Growing Family

Sinterklaas!

Every year I am super-excited about Christmas and The Captain comes along for the ride. This year I asked him to rate his excitement about Christmas verses his excitement about Sinterklaas. He explained to me that Sinterklaas is what all of his childhood holiday memories are of, and what he misses. So, I decided to make a real effort to create an authentic Sinterklaas celebration this year, and to try to invest more time in this as one of our family traditions.

I was busy for about a week, preparing. Of course, like any holiday celebration, hours of work burn up in consumption of minutes, but I am pleased with my efforts and the results.

We celebrated with some lovely friends here, who also celebrate their Dutch heritage. In fact, we went with them to a nearby (45 minutes away) "Holland House" where we were able to stock up on everything we needed! So, here are the results.

Working on two tutus, one for Sprout, and one for a friend.

The meal: Erwtensoep (Pea Soup) which is the traditional thing to have, along with bread and Edam cheese. For dessert, in addition to tons of snoepjes (sweets - thanks Dutch family and friends for sending them!), The Captain made griesmeel (a kind of firm pudding) and gluhwijn (spiced wine, made by my friend).

Here's a close-up of the soup which is more tasty than it is photogenic. Trust me.

It's a lot more than just peas. There's sausage, bacon, and ham chops so it's right off the menu for vegetarians like myself. In addition, you'll find celeriac (new to me), carrots, leek, parsley and celery leaves.

I made two Suprisen (presents wrapped in interesting/creative ways).

For Small Sun:

Lightening McQueen

And for The Sprout:

 

A strawberry.

We listened to Sinterklaas liedjes (songs), thanks Oma! Ate way too many sweets, opened presents from Holland, and had a wonderful time together. I think our first real effort was a success and also left room to grow for next year. :)

The Captain even wrote me a Sinterklaas poem, delivered in a fashion magazine (a favorite indulgence of mine). So, all in all, I'd say we did pretty well! A big huge thanks to Oma and L&E for supplying us with so many treats to help us celebrate.

Good Advertising

While I was in Holland we were snacking away on these yummy biscuits (cookies) when the wrapping caught my eye. Kudos to Noddy for featuring a child with dark skin (not just mocha) on their package and for making a delicious cookie!

No Zwarte Piet for Us

You know, sometimes it takes a long time for the offensive things present in your own life and household to come into focus. Even if they're right in front of your face like our Verjaardag Kalendar. A Verjaardag Kalendar is a staple in every dutch home. It is a birthday calendar that is not year specific, that lists the birthdays of all your friends and family. If you're Dutch, you NEED this calendar because birthdays are A BIG DEAL and even as an adult you will take sweets to everyone at your office to celebrate your own birthday.

Our calendar has a picture from The Captain's childhood at each month and it was a wedding gift from his family. Recently I've read some interesting comments about black face. I had never spent much time thinking about it. Well along comes April and one day it dawns on me that the picture of The Captain, painted black, sitting with Sinterklaas (St. Nicholas) is black face and it is offensive. My eyes widen in horror and I realize that I'm going to have to rip that picture out and explain its absence to my children.

In Holland people celebrate Sinterklaas on December 5th and it is a bigger day than Christmas. There are all sorts of legends and traditions. Sinterklaas is said to arrive on horse from Spain (and he then mounts a boat or barge and an actual man, aka Sinterklaas makes his public appearance arriving in Holland every December. It is broadcast on television and published in the newspaper, so children can't really say that Sinterklaas isn't real because there he is on the 8 o'clock news!).

Children put their shoes next to the chimney filled with a straw and a carrot for Sinterklaas' horse. In the morning they find presents and candy in their shoes.

The person that is disturbing me (and has for some time) is Sinterklaas' assistant, Zwarte (black) Piet. His job is to keep the record on children's behavior and sometimes he disciplines the naughty ones. Most Dutch people today claim that Zwarte Piet is dark from coal dust because he is the one who climbs down the chimney to deliver the gifts. That does not explain his curly hair and red lipstick. No, this is black face and the whole of Holland embraces dressing someone up like an oafish and mean dark skinned person.

And there is a picture of my husband, as a boy, dressed in that costume. I am appalled and so embarrassed.

I've tried to address this with Dutch friends and family in the past. I've tried to explain how ugly and racist this tradition is. They have brushed me off, telling me that it is innocent, that really Zwarte Piet is more important that Sinterklaas and sometimes he even bosses Sinterklaas around.

To put it frankly, giving a racist caricature power does nothing to undue the harm the caricature does in the first place. So, in my efforts to connect my children with their Dutch heritage, this is one tradition I will be decrying at every opportunity. Becoming aware of racism in myself and my surroundings is hard, but I am intent upon eradicating it as I become aware of it.

The Language Explosion

Cloudscome said she was interested in Small Sun's language acquisition so I thought I'd write a little something about that.

In our house I speak English nearly all the time with the kids. The Captain speaks ONLY Dutch with them. Our family often speaks Dutch when we are out in public because it gives privacy to our conversations, and it makes me look really cool in front of my friends. Ha.

The week before we went to Holland Small Sun was gaining a lot of new words. He also started putting some words together, which he hadn't really done before.

In Holland he was hearing a lot of new words and he was repeating everything over and over. Of course our family was excited that he could say things in Dutch so they kept encouraging him, which made him use Dutch words even more. By the end of the week he was using sentences like "Oma, auto, bye bye" which described Grandma getting in her car and us saying "bye bye" and waving.

In school (I studied child development) we learned that children raised in bilingual households "code mix" when they are learning to speak. That is, they use words from both languages, sometimes in the same sentence. Children as young as two years old begin to understand that the two languages are separate, at which point they "code switch", speaking the appropriate language to the appropriate parent, for example.

Small Sun has been behind his peers in language acquisition and I've long thought that our bilingual household might have something to do with it. He is learning two words for everything, and hearing two different languages, each with a unique set of rules. First I saw a leap ahead in his English language acquisition, and then a rocket ahead with his Dutch. He is still code mixing most of the time, but at least once he asked me first "auto?" and then repeated "car?".

I am always amazed when the Captain is carrying on a conversation with Small Sun in Dutch, using vocabulary that I don't know. I am amazed at how rapidly vocabulary is gained. Small Sun is getting in weeks what I have worked years to gain.

Journey to the Mother Land - 16 Days and Counting

That's right, it's time for our annual trip to Holland, aka The Netherlands. When we went this time last year I was starting, in the middle of, somewhere around in my second trimester. I hadn't gained any weight yet because I'd been puking so much. Then, in Holland, I was still puking, but in between bouts I was eating. Kaas (cheese), and more kaas, vla (similar to pudding), fritjes (fries), croquettes (fried dumpling type things),  aardapellen (potatoes), appeltart (apple pie), and chocolate, glorious chocolate. I gained 5 lbs. In one week. The Captain is a carnivore (and I am not) and he will be eating herring (the Dutch love it! The Captain buys it from stands on the beach, so stinky and fresh!), meatballs, and we will all be eating Spanse Pannekoeken (Spanish Pancakes) and any other pancakes we can get our hands on.

This makes me a little nervous. I'm still holding on to five pounds of baby weight (for those of you who are reading carefully, yes, I did gain BACK two pounds - blame the Easter Bunny). What am I going to do? This is food that I only get to eat once a year, that I love, that I can't get in the States unless I pay an arm and a leg. (Which we do for Calve peanut butter, Nutella, and imported cheese.) I just eat everything in sight there, like I'm about to get dropped on an island or something.

The week before we go to Holland, the Captain is going to a Java conference on the West Coast. We fly out the day after he gets back. I'm going to pack up the kids and stay with my parents for the week he's gone so that I have some help. So basically, everything needs to be ready to go for our trip by the end of next week.

I'm packing, I'm shopping, I'm making cards for Mother's Day. And there's lots more packing and shopping to do. I had so much fun going through the toy store buying special plane toys for Small Sun. In the past I've been really stressed about transatlantic flights with the kids but this time I'm so excited. I know I can nurse The Sprout to calm her and help her sleep. I know Small Sun will be excited about the plane, the new toys, and Curious George on the laptop. Ha! He also has his own seat, which makes a big difference.

Once there we have a car, and a cottage rented. We have a schedule (as all good Dutch families should) outlining who is coming to visit when. Each day is already booked up with entertaining guests, visiting friends and family, and sightseeing and shopping. The fact that we have a house makes all the difference. We can continue to have nap times and regular bedtimes, albeit all turned topsy turvey from jet lag.

The Captain's mother and oma are staying with us as well so they will dote on the kids. And the kids have their own room so we might actually get some good sleep! And did I mention we're staying in a water park resort that has all sorts of kids activities and childcare? Yea, I'm pretty stoked. Prepare for 16 more days of blogging anticipation and then an enthusiastic report afterwards.

Forgive Me

For my lack of references and forethought but I'm going to blog this topic anyway.*

I've been following Nicole, aka Paragraphein and her experience being censored by the administration of the Bethany Christian Services forums. I've been listening to Nicole for a long time. Like many others, I'd have to say that my ideas of adoption were all positive (that is, I thought adoption was a purely positive thing - a good solution to bad situations) before I started paying attention to what she had to say. Now, my perspective is drastically different. As you know, if you've been reading, I don't really know what I believe about adoption these days. It tears me up.

A long time ago Nicole mentioned something about countries like Holland and Australia have minuscule numbers of domestic voluntary adoptions compared to the U.S. The Captain did some digging around in some Dutch language resources (and here is where my lack of references comes into play) and he found that in Holland, there are approximately 50 in-country adoptions a year. 50 The Dutch adopt internationally, but the kind of domestic voluntary placements we have here are quite uncommon. They do keep track of the numbers, and that's what they are...50.

Why? What's the difference?

Off the top of my head (where this all comes from anyway) I think of a couple of things.

1. State funded (read: crazy taxes on higher wage earners and everyone else) health care.

2. Free birth control pills to women under 21 (the age cap is a new regulation, it used to be for all women, period).

3. The normalized use of birth control for all women (single and married professing Christians not excepted).

4. A silence surrounding abortion - for better or for worse, it's a silent issue.

5. State subsidization of housing for 20-40% of citizens with less than average income.

6. The absence of private schools and homeschooling being against the law leading to greater homogeny in the education system which is one of the best in the world.

Okay, so what am I saying here? (That question is for myself) First of all, women and girls are less likely to get pregnant unintentionally in the first place. They have greater access to birth control and there is less stigmatization in using it. If a woman becomes pregnant and decides to terminate, that option seems to be more easily available to her. If a woman becomes pregnant and decides to carry the baby, issues like health care, access to education and housing for herself and the baby are less of a factor in the decision making process. They may still be factors but I think that they are less.

If we had some of these same systems in America would we see plummeting voluntary placement rates? How many would there be? 50? I wonder.

*And to any of my Dutch family reading, or to the Captain, please feel free to chime in with why you think Dutch women don't voluntarily place their children for adoption as often as American women do, or more accurate statistics if I have misrepresented these.

Our Family Dynamic

I've had something muddling around in my mind for awhile now and have been waiting for it to become clear before I try to articulate it. Well, it's taking too long so I'm going to go ahead and write about it anyway.

Recently Being Mama Daily republished my blog piece about my parenting philosophy. The feedback the piece received gave me some really good food for thought.  I was also a part of a discussion on the Bethany Forums where someone asked why some (white) adoptive families are more comfortable adopting a biracial child instead of a full African American child. When I thought about that question I realized that my answer was very different than it would have been a year or so ago (or pre transracial parenting experience). Before I would have thought that an adoptive family who would adopt a biracial (half AA) child but not an AA child wasn't really comfortable with the racial difference or was trying to get a child that would "pass" or something. Thinking about it now I realized that since bringing Small Sun into our family my confidence that I can raise him to be black and proud has been replaced with a looming question mark instead. On one hand I am encouraged that strength of character, self esteem, confidence, honesty, etc, are traits that will make him a strong black man and I don't need to be black to teach him those. At the same time I realize how many things I CAN'T teach him that will help him feel confident in American black culture. The fact that he is half white makes me feel a little better. Like I know I can't really fail him on that account. I wonder if other families who adopt biracial children feel like that? Like they need to cling to the fact that they can get at least half of the race identity thing right for their child? I know it's so simplistic...but for me it helps.

So this all got me thinking about another aspect of our family dynamic. That is, we are Dutch-American. At least the Captain is, and our children are. I am probably about equally well equipped as an individual, to teach my children to be proud of their Dutch heritage as I am Small Sun's black heritage. I can speak enough Dutch to communicate. I have been in Dutch culture long enough to know and understand nuances that most foreigners miss. I can cook Dutch food. However, I am still a non-Dutch person trying to connect our children with a part of their heritage that I don't share. I doubt our children will identify themselves as Dutch or that they would "fit" in Holland without a lot of effort.  There are lots of things about Dutch culture that we don't want to pass on to our children. That's why we're not living there. So while our house includes Dutch influences, we're making our own dynamic. Our house isn't particularly American either. We're both "Third Culture Kids" if you're familiar with that concept.

So, I guess I'm just working out in my mind the similarities between Small Sun's connection to black culture through our initiatives and all of our connection to Dutch culture. Again, our kids won't be culturally 100% Dutch but they'll have a Dutch passport, and Dutch language skills, and Dutch family to support them. Who's to say what makes a person really Dutch...or really African American?

The Captain recently found Light-Skinned-ed Girl . I can't tell you how refreshing it was to read an adult transracial adoptee perspective that wasn't angry or bitter or depressed. She emphasized that our mixed up families may not fit the molds that are present in American society, but that is because we have a hand in changing the shapes of those molds. The fact that we don't "fit" into one category or another is not cause for upset, but something to be explored as the categories are rapidly changing. I actually cried as I accepted the cyber "Mocha Baby Nod" from her, in acknowledgment of our wonderful family. I really don't have the answers, for us or for other people, but I'm so happy that we're black and we're white and we're Dutch and we're American and all of the other things that make our family specifically us.

Home Again, Home Again, Jiggidy Jig

Well our trip was a success. Small Sun was a magnificent trooper. He didn't cry on any of the flights, even though we were traveling for a total of about 12-15 hours each way. Poor guy was coming down with something before we left and by the time we landed he was SICK. Then, poor me, I caught it from him. We spent the whole week wheezing and coughing and crying because our throats hurt so badly. However, when you have only one week in which to see all of your family and friends you there's not much to do but power through. Even being sick he charmed the family (he was meeting most of them for the first time) and that was really the point of the trip.

We rented a car and drove all over the place visiting great grandmas, aunts and uncles, The Captain's mom and dad, and our beloved friends. It was so good to be back. After just a week our link with America felt so thin and we were ready to fly home, home being somewhere else other than small-city Tennessee. It's odd - we don't want to move back to Holland but being there reminds us of all that we value and love that we're not experiencing in our current life. We spent some time with American friends in Amsterdam. They've been there for ten years and are getting ready to move, with their two small children, to Belgium to "get out of the city" for awhile. They were very enthusiastic about our desire to move to Australia and kept saying "do it, now's a great time, go for it".

Upon returning home and attending my doctor's appointment I heard the strong and steady "woosh woosh" of our baby's heartbeat. With it descended a powerful nesting instinct. Since we can't apply for visas while I'm pregnant our current plan is to wait until this fall to make THE DECISION. Do we stay here and buy a bigger house, or do accelerate our efforts to move to Sydney? Right now my nesting instinct is blind. It wants to do to this house all the projects we have in mind. It wants to buy every bigger house in the neighborhood and get settled before the baby gets here. It wants to hurry up and move to Australia so I can get that house settled...before the baby gets here. We've been waiting and waiting, for legitimate reasons, to move and right now I just want to do it. Ideally to Sydney, but soon. When I lie on my back at night (for short periods of time!) I feel like the baby is sitting cross legged on my stomach, pushing its head against my skin. It's telling me - "hey, this space is too small for us, we need to find a bigger one." Culturally, this space is to small.

Well I'm up writing all of this under the influence of jet lag. My brother Austin is expecting his baby girl any day now. My parents are globetrotting and keep calling us from their cellphone in Israel. The world we love and are connected to is so big, and we're living in such a small part of it. Anyway, Small Sun is responding to the time change with the desire to get out of his crib...at least it's 7 instead of yesterday's 5:45 am. Please forgive any blathering that has taken place here, I'm just trying to sort myself out. And yea, even though there weren't any sea storms, the trip was great.

Off you go then

So I don't know if I'll post while we're in Holland. We will be spending much of our time staying with some wonderful friends there who are both mega-geeks. That is, they're both in the computer industry. By the way, that's where The Captain's brains are. He's a programmer and a darn good one too. Anyway, I'll have lots of tech support but we'll see how we're doing in the sleep department and go from there. :)

I have been running around today amassing lots of stuff that will supposedly make our trip better. Granola bars, baby snacks, new panties. Anyway, all I have left to do (I think) is pack. I've been putting that off all day. :) So, I'm going to get to it now. I wish you all a good week and I'll return with pictures and hopefully humorous anecdotes. ;)

Sand Spitting on Windowpanes

So my husband, The Captain, is Dutch. To clarify, he is not technically a captain, he's simply the captain of our family and I think that's a bold and courageous position to take up every day. But as I was saying, he hails from the small land of windmills, dairy products beyond your wildest imaginings, and proclaimed open mindedness while bums are pinching creases into chairs. I love Holland. We lived there when we first got married (almost six years ago) and The Captain was finishing his undergrad degree. We lived in a snug apartment in a building called De Schelp (The Shell) in Zandvoort. Zandvoort is a classy beach town due west of Amsterdam. The North Sea is brown and green and freezing cold. The Germans come in the summer and dig holes in the sand and sit in them all day drinking beer. Families come to the beach with their children and their dogs. They don't come like Americans with buckets of beach supplies and sun tents and boom boxes. They walk there, or take the train. So they strip the kids down to their undies or less (the adults do much the same) and the children run wild with the strong wind whipping their blond hair about their faces and the salty spray crusting their bodies. I love Holland.

One of the best things about living in Zandvoort, or anywhere on the North Sea coast is the storms. They blow in with fury and last for days. Our little apartment was ground floor, on a hill, next to the dunes. One of my favorite memories is the way the wind would whip sand against our windowpanes and the rain would be driving sideways. Sometimes the storms scared me, they were so strange and alien. I am a southern girl used to rocking thunder, wild lightening and tornadoes. These were howling gales that screamed around the rooftops and beat against the doors.

I was so excited because they've been having sea storms in the last week or two and the forecast for next week looked like I might get to enjoy one. However I checked again today and now it looks like we'll just get to partake in Holland's usual snoggy rain that falls from a gray sky and chills your bones, summertime or not. We used to have an old Jetta where the back windows didn't quite close and the rain seeped into puddles in the back floorboard. When you braked you could hear it slosh around and sometimes mushrooms began to grow. This time we've rented some perfectly normal economy car. Even so you're always walking in Holland so I'm sure I'll get my share of the skin soaking drizzle. However, when you get home from being out and about in the bad weather, the houses are well built. The door closes behind you with a firm thud and you are enveloped in a warm atmosphere created by hundred of years of politeness and propriety. We drink tea, we talk for hours, we exchange gifts in every home, we are comforted by a culture that has been enduring through wars and oppression. I can't wait to be there. And who knows, we may get a good storm yet.