Growing Family

A Stone's Throw

It is amazing how little I actually know. Sometimes I am just shocked when I think I have things all figured out, and then the situation spins and I get a peak from another angle and realize, I had that so wrong. 

In the last three days I have discovered that there are three transracial adoptive families living on our street and a street in our neighborhood. Two are across the street from my house. Literally, I could hit them with a stone's throw. How did I miss that?

How often are the things we need in life right under our nose?

So there's this family that sometimes comes to stay across the street from us. I'd noticed them before because it's not every day you see a black woman with dreads, and a white man with long hair, and a beautiful, brown curly headed child walking down our street. You other transracial families will know what I mean when I say they showed up on my radar! Anyway, they come and go, and eventually I learned that they are the children and grandchild of the retired couple who lives across the way. Recently we bumped into them when my children were hanging out in the eucalyptus tree in front of our house. Their daughter came over to play "monkeys" for awhile and we promised we'd hang out again soon.

That was several months ago but this week they came back to stay for a bit. In the last three days we've probably spent a cumulative six or seven hours together. We've been on long adventures in the reserves around our neighborhood, and had relaxed cups of tea on the verandah. My new friend has worked her way into my baby's heart even though he is reluctant of strangers. 

Yesterday we were at the park and Small Sun was talking to The Mom about a movie character and saying, "you know, he's brown, like us..." How often will my son get to have a brown "us" to identify with? It thrilled me, and brought me pain at the same time. As I pushed the stroller with my two light children, and her daughter and my brown son ran ahead, I felt the pang as people smiled at them charging by. Any casual observer would probably think they were both her children.

To be honest, I have had very, very few moments where I felt like I missed out on something by not being Small Sun's biological mom. I've heard lots of other mothers through adoption talk about little stings and pains they experienced, and I really haven't related. In that moment though, when I assumed that other people thought that The Mom was Small Sun's mom because they were both brown, it hurt me. For once I felt that there was something I missed in not being genetically linked...for once I found myself wanting to "match".

Imagine my surprise when today The Mom told me that her daughter also joined their family through adoption. I just assumed that they "matched". It never crossed my mind that The Mom and I might have so much more in common than I thought. It really just astounded me how inaccurate my perceptions were.

In my whole experience as a mother through adoption (a sage five years, next month), I've read and read and thought about what my son "needs" to be a healthy, well rounded individual despite being transracially adopted. In my head there's this formula: x number of same-ethnicity mentors, y percent saturation of people of color in main environments, + parents who are completely educated on every important piece of African American history and literature, EVER = happy, well adjusted adult. I'm being silly...but I'm not. 

Recently I had the thought "what if instead of coming up with what I think Small Sun needs, and asking God to provide that, I ask God to meet Small Sun's needs without dictating what those needs are?" 

At our church's weekly gathering to encourage and connect women, the speaker taught about directing our own "self-talk" to be empowering us rather than tearing ourselves down. She said "when you have attempted something and given it your absolute best effort, it is WRONG to then berate yourself for not having done it better or achieved more." Of course we are always trying to improve and grow, but hating on ourselves for the distance between the mark we're hitting, and our ultimate goal, cuts our feet out from under us. I was so convicted when she said that.

There really is a big challenge for me there, to have my goals in mind, but to also pray with God for His goals for my son (all of my children, but I'm talking about adoption here). And while I'm praying, to not direct my focus on where I'm not, but rather on where I am going. 

My perspective is so narrow, and limited. And sometimes, like this week, I get shaken and spun, and it all ends up looking so different than I thought it did. 

From These Parts

When I was fourteen my family moved to St. Petersburg, Russia. Growing up, I'd lived in a number of houses and moved from Michigan to Tennessee when I was six. Because we did school at home, the many transitions weren't disruptive, they were more like adventures. Moving to Russia, at fourteen years old, was huge.

I really credit that life experience as being the doorway to where my life is today. When we left the States, I was in junior high school, attending group tutorial classes with other home-educated students, two days a week. I was drifting, reaching farther and farther to find what I could call "me". Like most adolescents, I felt myself to be firmly at the center of the universe. Moving to a post-communist country kind of messes with the me-centered paradigm.

I hated the time in Russia. I didn't have any friends in St. Petersburg. I was angry at my parents for uprooting me. I stayed in my room for the better portion of the year we were there, lying on my bedroom floor, listening to U2 and crying over how much my parents didn't understand me. Wah, wah, wah.

And yet, to this day, some of my most vibrant memories come from that year.

A day-long picnic by a lake, in the middle of the woods, somewhere in the countryside within a train's reach of the city. Walking, singing, with a group of friends from our congregation, through the black-barked evergreens with the dark green needles blocking out the sun overhead, except for piercing shafts of light that left pools of gold on the forest floor. The yellow sand of the dunes surrounding the lake. Russians swimming in speedos and bras and panties. Young boys in their white underwear, splashing through the silver water. A picnic of hard boiled eggs, cold salads, Fanta, and dark bread, held in glass and metal containers, the picnic supplies that were pre-disposable plastics.

Living in Russia meant that I had to recognize the world, and my relation to it. My spot at the center came un-stuck. It meant I traveled extensively, with my parents, and without, by the time I was sixteen. St. Petersburg at that time, was not "Western". I experienced life with lack, poverty, struggle, and a blurring of the lines between life and death. It shaped my future.

When I came back to the U.S. after that year, I couldn't relate to my old friends, and they couldn't relate to me. This huge, raw, crazy life-experience stood between us. I ended up in another school tutorial program and put my head down and worked. Once, in a composition class, we were supposed to write a short story, and provide illustrations. After struggling with the assignment for a week, the night before it was due, I stayed up late making a cardboard book full of my father and brother's photographs, about my time in Russia: how I met God, fell in love with a boy, and came unglued there. When it was my turn to present, I found my heaving soul on those pages, out of place with the comics, and lighthearted concoctions around me. My classmates probably thought they knew me. In the silence that surrounded the conclusion of my reading, I think everyone realized that they didn't.

Here I am in Australia. I am an American girl, but I'm not. I feel like a decoupage project: you can't peel away one set of layers without tearing off another. 

In anticipating a trip back to Nashville, back to "home", I'm thinking about these things. After two years here, this is my normal. The way my life is ordered here is...right. I wonder if I'll feel the way I felt before: on home soil, visibly blending in, but feeling like an alien.

My son can't remember America. He has no concept of the hugeness of the country. He wants to visit characters from American t.v. shows he's seen. He wants it to snow in June. I try to explain to him what America is. But as he says, he is a "Sydney boy" and he knows "100 things about Sydney.

I am not from here, but this is my home. Most of the time it fits like a glove, and sometimes I am betrayed. I feel wholly part of the group here, until friends return from trips to the U.S. and complain about the food, the fatness, the traffic, the excess. Then suddenly I feel small and cornered as if I am being attacked. The things I find offensive in my own country follow me here in the form of others' criticisms.

At other times my heart wells with pride and I plant my feet wide in defense of my home-land.

We are Dutch. We are American. We are Australian. We are Russian ballet school and cold showers in June. We are kindergarten in Germany with stern teachers. We are births with fireworks in the deep South, we are so many things all tangled up in this yarn ball: family. life.

Bits and Bobs

Lately I've been thinking in bullet points. Life these days is just too full for the flowing narratives I used to write in my journal. Life is full, but the record of it is becoming more and more abbreviated. I am thinking about trying to write down five bullet points about the day, every day before I go to bed. I find myself not writing because I can't find the time or energy to write it all out, so a lot is getting lost. Here are some of the bullets bouncing around in my mind from the last week or so.

29th Birthday

• when I was born the first tulip bloomed. This year the first autumn leaves fell. Upside down on the globe.
• bday brekky of fresh orange juice, chocolate croissants and hot cross buns
• Mum's beautiful birthday basket with heavenly chai spice candle filling the dining room with fragrance
• Sisterhood meeting with all three kids in childcare. Felt lighter than air
• Max Brenner chocolatey decadent girl's night out with my friends
• Sydney friends absolutely stunning women

School Holidays

• Crisp autumn days spent outside with friends
• Daily baths because kids are dirty head to toe from playing hard in the garden
• Garden class at Flower Power - lettuce on the window sill
• Finch eating sand
• Kids digging "nests-es" for the birds in the garden - one for "nests-es" and a separate one for eggs
• Playing with slugs, worms, rolly pollyies, and lizards
• Planting in kale, artichoke, spinach, sweet pee, carrots, and beets

Milestones/Happenings

• Sprout has been asking for "short hair". Impulsively took her for a cut today. She now sports a short, shiny bob. The floor was piled with her hair like golden straw. I was simultaneously clapping and gasping for breath with the pain of seeing it fall to the ground. Now I can see the back of her neck.
• Finch is nearly 11 months. He he pulling up to explore. Climbs stairs (up, not down). Feeds himself. Waves by opening and shutting his fingers. Plays peek-a-boo by holding up the backs of his hands to his eyes and then putting them down with hardly enough time to ask "where's Finch?" When asked for kiss makes kiss sound but doesn't make contact. Very independent and will go off to play by himself in another room. Still a happy nurser. Much adored.
• Small Sun is nearly 5 and oh, so big! Growth spurts all around. Clothes outgrown. Developing a very strong will, while maintaining a sweet spirit. Totally infatuated with Steve Irwin. Wants to be called Steve all the time. Yells "crikey" and jumps on imaginary crocs. Makes me lose my breath sometimes. I can hardly carry him to the bathroom in the night. His feet hit my shins when I hold him.
• Approaching boys' birthdays and planning a double party.
• Anticipating a trip to Nashville in June
• Working out every weekday to look good in my bridesmaid dress. Seeing results.
• Training to work as a volunteer helping immigrant families adjust to life here
• Improved mom-me balance, using more babysitters
• Hung up on wanting a house and a dog - obsessing a bit
• Sending in school applications

That's it for now, folks. I got a new book for my birthday and I think I'll go read until I fall asleep, as I have been doing every night since I picked it up!

Holidays

Our family recently returned from a spectacular, amazing holiday at Hamilton Island in Queensland, Australia. Seeing the Great Barrier Reef is the only absolutely-must-see on our list for our time here, and we celebrated the end of our second year here with the trip. 

When you approach the island you cannot see the runway as it is a small strip built out into the water. It looks like you're just going down into the water! And because we arrived within 24 hours of Cyclone Ului, there was flooding so there was high water on either side of the runway. That made is a little crazy!

We actually had to postpone our trip by two days because all flights were canceled because of the storm. In the end we took the earliest flight up because we had been marking days off the calendar for weeks and the kids had been asking "are we going to Hamilton Island now?" every five minutes for, I don't know, years!

The island was covered with downed trees and tiny leaf debris from the storm. It was like all the leaves got shredded and then shaken in an even layer over everything. Because it is a resort island, they put all possible manpower on cleaning up the damage. It was like an army of worker ants covering every possible surface. When we arrived at our hotel, located on the beach, the beach was completely covered with about one foot deep of debris. For the first two or three days they completely cleared the beach each morning, complete with giant construction rigs scraping the top layer of sand off. Each high tide would bring in another layer of debris.

It sounds like a kind of awful way to start a holiday, but nothing could be farther from the truth. The storm blew in tons of sponges, coral, and wildlife. Steve Irwin, I mean Small Sun, was nearly hysterical running from find to find, exclaiming. On the first morning I took the kids for an early morning walk down the beach. We were still wearing pjs, and he started picking up treasures until his arms were completely full, he was covered in sand, and his pjs were soaked. He was crying because he couldn't hold it all and things kept falling! I found an empty sand-bag and let him fill that up. Eventually the bag was too heavy for him to carry and I ended up dragging it up the beach for him. Before going up to the hotel, I had to make a new rule "if it's hard like a rock, we can take it up to the hotel balcony, but if it is soft like a plant, we have to leave it at the beach."

We spent hours building "aquariums", and sand castles. The plastic play equipment was happily forgotten as we traded it in for large stones, huge coconuts, and palm husks perfect for digging or riding in as small boats.

 

Every day the tide went out so far that a whole area of coral reef was exposed and we could walk out and examine it. There were hundreds of crabs and hermit crabs. It was really amazing.

In addition there were four different swimming pools connected to our hotel. They were designed to be part of the environment with large boulders to jump off of, shallow kiddie areas, waterfalls, and bridges. Have I mentioned that my kids love to swim? Love. love. love.

But of course, the major highlight was the Great Barrier Reef. We took a day trip out to see it. You ride two hours straight out on a giant catamaran and can I just say, after a tropical storm, the waves were huge! It was like a really long roller coaster ride. Thankfully I had remembered to bring some motion-sickness medication and I gave it to the whole family. I'm glad I did as people all around us were chucking and we made it through. I don't know how I made it. I get motion sickness and frightened on boats in big swell and these waves were massive. I'm pretty sure we got air in our seats a couple times. Finch and Sprout passed right out from the noise and the rocking and slept the whole way there!

The boat we took docks onto a permanent structure built next to the reef and from there you can go in a semi-submersible along the shelf, and also go down in a glass observation room so see huge fish all around. We assumed that is how the kids would see the reef, but when we got there we found out that they had child-minding on the boat, and gear small enough for Small Sun the Sprout. 

We left Finch with the babysitter and geared up in sting suits (really thin full body suits to protect from jellyfish stings), snorkel gear, life jackets, and noodles. The Captain took Sprout and I took Small Sun and we struck out towards the reef. There are strong currents there so you swim within a roped off area that runs along the shelf. In higher tide you can swim over top the reef but because we were there at low tide it was too shallow so you swim along the shelf.

Can I just say, this was one of the most incredible experiences ever with our kids? I never dreamed the four of us would be out there all together, right in Nemo's backyard! Small Sun and I were looking at each other underwater, holding hands, and trying to touch all the colorful fish swimming between us. Remember "the drop off" in Finding Nemo? Well that's where we were. It was so amazing that I just kind of lose words to tell about it. To see something so amazing, holding hands with my four year old son...wow.

We didn't stay in the water long as it was pretty intense for the kids. The Captain and I took turns doing a speed snorkel along the shelf before it was time to load up and head back to the island.

This post is already epic length so I'll close it there. I am speed-writing while my approved morning tv shows are running! And yes, the pictures are pretty gritty and vintage looking, aren't they? That's because our camera stopped working right before we left so we had 27 precious shots from a disposable film camera. Film, people, remember it? If you ever get a chance to go to the Great Barrier Reef, do it!