Growing Family

Going for Gold

Sometimes, as a mom, I hit a low. You know those days where you are so busy doing everything for everyone? By the time you get to eat your food, it's cold. You're trying to use the bathroom and kids are climbing on your lap. After making a great dinner, and feeding everybody there's still cleanup and bedtime to get through. Those days where it feels like a week from wake-up till bedtime.

One day like that this week I just took a little time out (hubby was home) to go cry in my pillow. I'm learning to acknowledge that my own needs for care are real and important (I'm actually pretty good at taking care of myself but I also try to be unselfish and take good care of my family). Also I'm learning that sometimes it's appropriate for another person to help me meet those needs and sometimes I can ask God to meet my needs. (I know, here I go turning off my readers who aren't into God!)

So as I was crying in my pillow I started to tell God about how tired I was and how I wanted someone to mother me for a change.

God speaks to me with pictures. First I became aware that I could sit on God's lap like a child and He was taking care of me. Literally, I felt warm and comforted, and like my hair was being stroked. I instantly began to relax and find peace.

The next thing I saw was a kind of movie of me taking care of my kids. I saw myself doing the mundane tasks of motherhood (feeding Sprout in her chair, changing diapers, picking up toys), except liquid gold was pouring out of my hands and coating everything I was touching. The most basic actions were immensely valuable.

Sometimes I need that reminder - that these often boring and mundane activities are actually life-giving, and that I am creating an environment that teaches my children that they are valuable.

I'm glad that I am learning to let the God-head meet some of my needs because they can meet them so completely, and I can be filled and move on, instead of pulling and pulling on a person to fill a deep need. There are many, many needs that are met interpersonally, but sometimes you just can't beat Father God's hugs.

How many of you have I scared off?

Fending off Fawning

For the most part, our multi-hued family goes through daily life without major incident. People do always comment on how handsome Small Sun is, and how much they love his hair, but it is usually within the realms of propriety.

When we experience a serious response, it is always "positive" attention. Today we experienced probably the most flamboyant display yet, and Small Sun's response is what took me a bit by surprise.

I've decided to take my queues from him when someone is goo-gooing in his direction, and to draw boundaries appropriately. Today a sales woman started gushing at him the minute we walked through the door. She hugged him several times and kept tousling his hair.

!Alert!Alert!Alert!

I know what you other moms are thinking. "You let her TOUCH him!!!"

Well yea, I did. He was grinning at her and hamming it up and not acting scared or shy or overwhelmed. And while she was way too much, she didn't set off my radar as an icky person.

Her actions and words turned me WAY OFF, what with the "I want to take you home" and "can I have you, please?" and coming around from the sales counter multiple times to get close to him. She instantly jumped into letting him smell soaps (it was a cosmetics/skincare store) and stuff.

I guess I kind of felt for her because she was obviously one of those people who really wants kids and is just all about kids. She said she wanted to adopt and I said she probably could. She confided that she is just finishing a divorce, and that they had been matched with a child when it all fell apart. As soon as she gets on her feet she wants to adopt. So...it genuinely felt like she was just really into children and transracial adoption, not like she was a predatory baby snatcher adopter.

ANYWAY. She also gave the obligatory "oh, and you're certainly cute too" to the Sprout, before lunging back for another squeeze of my son. You've all heard before how I feel about that, Heh.

ANYWAY-Take-II. After we left the store I asked Small Sun "did you like that lady or not like that lady?" I wasn't really sure if that question was too vague and open-ended for a two year old and was wondering how to phrase it better when he shot his answer back without pausing "don't like that lady".

Well, he had me, and her fooled.

The lesson I learned and am mulling over - regardless of how Small Sun is responding, I need to put up some boundaries in those situations. I usually do because he is obviously uncomfortable with people's obnoxious attention, but now I see that he may act pleasant even if he's feeling uncomfortable. I don't know why and he hasn't done it before, but now that I know...

Lastly, I was talking about his hair with another mom at playgroup today (she has super curly hair) and I saw him get quiet and start listening. (Just FYI, I never talk about "good" and "bad" hair and most of the time I don't discuss it in front of him at all.) Later I asked him if he liked or didn't like me talking about his hair and he said "like it".

I'm thankful he's getting verbal enough to tell me how these situations are affecting him.

Living in "Diversity" - What does it even mean?

As the move draws closer, (62 days left, but who's counting?) I've been thinking about the potential affect on Small Sun specifically and all of our children in general.

The word "diversity" seems to be a blanket that gets thrown wide to cover all sorts of ideas and ideals. In moving to Sydney we are moving to a city with greater statistical cultural and linguistic diversity but what will that mean for our lives? Small Sun will be leaving a city that is roughly 26% Black, and a place where he has Black friends, to a city where his ethnicity doesn't even show up on the census.

We want to live in a "diverse" city in that we want to be closer to a wider variety of languages, religions, and cultures, but in so doing we are potentially alienating our son from his heritage. How will that affect him?

What will it be like to go to school where there are children from many different backgrounds in the class, but none of them share his ethnicity? We have been told there are many mixed-race families and children so he will have that commonality, but how much will he relate to a friend with a Chinese-Australian parent and a European-Australian parent?

I am also concerned about the injustice that has occurred between the Aboriginal people and the European Australians. Will Small Sun be perceived as mixed-race Aboriginal? If so, how will that affect society's reaction to him as part of our family?

From my understanding (and small amount of experience), Australians are like the Dutch in their direct way of stating an opinion or asking a question. I am trying to prepare for questions and statements. I am trying to thicken my skin in anticipation.

In one way I think living outside of America (and especially the American South) will be advantageous to Small Sun. I hope he will have more opportunity to define his Blackness on his own terms, instead of coming under the weight of cultural expectation. At the same time, the assumptions about who he should be as a Black male may be even more stereotypical in OZ, if all they're seeing is American TV representations.

What if we choose a neighborhood where we are in the minority, but that majority ethnicity isn't necessarily keen about our family? I think as educated white people we have this ideal of living in diversity and we assume that everyone wants that. I think even in trying to reach out, we have walls all around us in the shape of mis-assumption and mis-application of ideals.

While I'm preparing the details of the move, the ramifications of the move are also rolling around in my head like golf balls in a shipping container. I guess someone should ask me about it in a year and I might have learned something.

Privacy Bites

I use a false name for my magazine subscriptions so that my real identity doesn't get profiled by the sales mob. It freaks me out how much info they gather.

This was working out just peachy until I started cancelling subscriptions...A refund check made out to my alias won't do me much good.

Smart thinking there, old gal.

Does my Brain have an Off switch?

My brain is on channel Australia, all of the time. My adrenaline levels seem stuck on a permanent high. I'm one of those (un)fortunate people, emotionally affected my my physical space. The clutter of an impending move is resulting in a lot of inner noise for me. I'm feeling worn out.

The Captain mentioned that I am "preoccupied" with the move, zeroing in one one task to complete and then moving with equal intensity to the next. I said "after we get our tickets I'll feel better and relax". Then it was getting temporary housing lined up. The Captain noted that so far I haven't relaxed at all. I told him that I WILL relax - after we're in our Sydney house with our boxes unpacked, and something of a routine falling into place. My friend Jen, who knows me SO well, laughed and said "you mean after you've rented for a year and you've bought a house to settle into!" Hmf.

I've been thinking about it - how I am going to handle the next good year or more of transition and change. I thrive on order, structure, and routine, and I am constantly trying to create that out of this big sloppy thing known as migration. Is there a way I can turn my brain off, finding peace in the interval between a task completed and a task yet to begin? Must I fall asleep thinking of details, and wake up with my stomach a pit of acid that is giving me flashbacks to the first trimester? I actually ate saltines this morning.

So far it doesn't seem like my stress levels correlate to the actually stressfulness of the situation. Things are progressing nicely, we are hitting no major snags. Any advice for dialing down the intensity level and approaching this with a level head? If not, I hope I lose some weight, I must be burning a zillion calories with my anxiety-o-meter stuck on high.

25 Hours of Travel, Here We Come!

Tickets Bought
Temporary Housing Reserved
House selling
Stuff getting sold off
Interview with career-making company, Friday
Dentist and Doctor visits scheduled
I am a planning genius
Tooting my own horn, yes I am! Honk honk!

One Jesus, Two Jesus, Three Jesus!

Small Sun received this pencil case for Christmas. One day he illustrated his improving counting skills by proudly showing me "one Jesus, two Jesus, three Jesus!" pointing out the people on the front.

The Captain and I looked at each other in disbelief. We don't know where the bigger problem lies: Jesus as the embodiment of eurocentric beauty, or Jesus as a woman. I know everyone sees Jesus differently, but a Disney princess is the last way I'd imagine him!

Running in the Wind

There have been at least two cases in the last several years where people I know have decided, abruptly, to make major life changes and have sold their houses in less than two weeks, for their asking price. Each time I was amazed at the rapidity of their process, that seemed aided by Providence. Each time I hoped that when the right time came for us to make our major life change, that I would see the same Grace at work.

I think we've sold our house. Papers aren't signed yet, but through a peaceful succession of events, we gave a price to some friends last night and today they agreed to accept it. I can hardly believe it. After years of testing the door to the future, only to find it closed, I am currently flying through the door frame.

Looking strong but not completely nailed down are: temporary housing, a six month contract job for the Captain (which is so ideal), tickets, and this house sold. Things feel different when the wind is at your back.

Losing the Trail

I spent time shopping for the perfect things for Christmas for Small Sun's first family. I knew that there was a chance they wouldn't get them, the last given address being a friend's house who was traveling overseas. Today the shipping facility called. They were not able to deliver the package.

We are in a wishing-it-was-open adoption. By some people's definitions our adoption is open. We know each other's last names and Small Sun's mother has all of our contact information. We have an email address that she opened specifically for mail from us. Most of our emails go unanswered.

I've been afraid of this day. Afraid of the day the trail might run cold. Afraid that while we want so desperately to stay connected, the tenuous connection might break. What do I do now?

I know that with some elbow grease and tenacity I could find and contact some extended family members. I know that's not what she'd want. What do you do when you are desperate to maintain a connection to your child's birth family and that might mean disregarding the preferences of their mother?

We're moving across the globe and my fear is that one day Small Sun's mom will want contact with us, only to find that we've gone. Of course we can leave our contact information with the agency, but I don't know if she would ever talk to them again. How can we preserve a connection that's hardly there?

Garden Emoting

For a gardener, winter can be a trying time. If your passion is design, then a withered yard with no snow shows up like a skeleton coming out from under flesh. Slowly the color and padding fades away until you are left with bones. shapes. solids.

When my yard is looking bleak and it's no time to be planting anything, I, along with many other gardeners, console myself by pulling out design books and seed catalogs. I make lists and draw plans. I make it through the winter on the dreams of the bigger, better garden that will emerge from the soil, and from my working hands.

I just got a new gardening magazine in the mail. Normally that would drive me to dig out plant encyclopedias and by this time tomorrow the kitchen table would be littered with pencils, paper, markers, and pictures cut out from catalogs. This year I am wrinkling my nose and scratching my head.

Last fall I planted a river of daffodils. Every year I plan for the early spring doldrums and coordinate a crash of color and fragrance to shake me out of the gray. Daffodils. Tulips. Hyacinth. Narcissus. These are my smelling salts.

Last fall I planted the river of daffodils to be my yard's goodbye. I might get to see the tulips or they may be closed up, tight, but I know I will see the daffodils. They will be my shout farewell.

What dirt will I get to play in this year? I'll go from winter to fall to winter again. I'll be in a rental property. Maybe daffodils will be both a parting and a welcome.