Mayhem and Magic

Holy...

I found Sparkle's foster mom on Facebook... 

I want to email her right now but...  I know the adoption agency told us that South Africa does not allow contact between us and Sparkle's first mom until Sparkle is eighteen.  But I'm trying to remember if that applied to his foster family as well?

And I had mostly given up on finding anyone who knew Sparkle in South Africa.  Now that there's this bit of hope I'm scared I'll do something wrong and she'll disappear. 

Just today we talked to Pumpkin's first mom on the phone.  It's his sister's birthday and she had a Tinkerbell party.  While Pumpkin was talking to them I gave Sparkle a hug and kiss and said, "You know what I wish?  I wish we could call your brothers on their birthdays."  He just said, "Yeah..."  He was busy listening to what Pumpkin was saying to his sister.  (She turned two today, so it's not much of a conversation but they both enjoy it.)

I know it's hard for Sparkle not to know his first family, especially because Pumpkin does have that opportunity.  It would be so cool for him to have even the tiniest connection to someone who cared for him before we met him.

Oh God...  (Seriously, this is a "help me, help me, help me" prayer.)

Rocking My Baby

Two nights ago I was up too late.  I couldn't sleep and I hate laying in bed not sleeping, so I got up.

Pumpkin woke up (well, kind of half woke up) to use the bathroom.  I went to check on him and startled him when he came out of the bathroom.  He was tearing up a bit because he was startled. And he really began to cry when I told him he needed to lay back down in his own bed and not come lay with Daddy and me.

His sweet little half-asleep sad face!  Oh!

So I asked him if he wanted to rock for a while.  It has been a long time since we rocked.  If he curls up just right he still fits on my lap in the rocker.  So he put his little head on my shoulder and we rocked for a while. 

It was very sweet.  I wondered if it could be the last time I rock him back to sleep.  He was breathing deeply and totally relaxed, but I whispered to him, "I might not get to rock you very much any more because you're so big, but thanks for letting me rock with you tonight."  And he mumbled, "You're welcome, Mama." 

Even mostly asleep my baby is so polite!  I was surprised he even heard me! 

I just want to remember what his head smells like and how he feels so much heavier when he's sleeping.

Then...

Last night Pumpkin woke up again, fussing about something.  I went to check on him and he was cranky and whiney.  He kind of stomped his little feet and held up his arms and demanded, "Rock me!"

Huh.

I did rock him, but it was much less sweet the second time!

Still, how lucky am I that I have an almost-five year old whom I can still comfort, who feels better if he is near me, whose little hand reaches over to pat my face as he's falling asleep?

Crazy, crazy lucky, that's what I am!  But I'm hoping we'll both sleep through the night tonight.

Then and Now: It's That Time Of Year Again

Beloved is doing a lot of lawn care again.  Sparkle is old enough that he really wants to help.  Beloved let him push the mower  with him, thinking that he'd lose interest pretty quickly but he stuck  with it until the mowing was all done.

Here's a post with them mowing two years ago.

And here's another, from three whole years ago!  (You really should click on this picture to see Beloved carrying both boys!)

Oh my, how my babies have grown!

Being a Conspicuous Family in South Africa?

We're planning our trip to South Africa now, which is very exciting.  Someone else (a travel agent we know in South Africa) is going the nitty-gritty stuff for us, like making reservations at places where we'll stay, getting a car, and that kind of thing.  Nice... 

I've been thinking about what it will be like to be a conspicuous family in South Africa.  When we met Sparkle there, I occasionally felt surprised by reactions we got.  Looking back, I'm not sure if I was surprised by the responses themselves, or just surprised because being conspicuous was new to us. 

And actually, there really were not that many times when anyone seemed to care in the least.  No one congratulated us or thanked us (like I've heard adoptive parents with children from China talk about).  A few (Black) workers in a restaurant were curious about our story and asked us if we really loved Sparkle.  They made mildly disapproving noises about the idea of a mother placing a child for adoption.  Once an older white lady kind of hissed at us when she looked in our stroller and saw that our baby wasn't white.  Very weird. 

But overall, not that many people seemed to notice our family, which was fine with us.  Except that sometimes I could not believe that not every single person wanted to stop and coo over this baby who was clearly the most adorable infant ever.

Here in the U.S., I think we handle being a conspicuous family pretty well.  Mostly, we just...  act like a family.  I don't want to blow off the significance of being aware of surroundings and aware of trying to make sure our kids don't get the spotlight put on them, but sometimes (often, even) what works best is to refuse to be uncomfortable.  We mostly do our thing, expecting to be treated well and not be questioned.  If someone wants to act like our family is odd or whatever, we don't necessarily make it easy for them. 

When someone asks, for example,  "Are they brothers?"  we feel totally okay with giving them a long, confused, blank look...  (long enough for them to feel just a bit uncomfortable)  And then saying, "Yes!"

(Here's another post about that question in particular, from a mini-set of postings in the category Adoption FAQ.)

That's kind of a simplistic summary, but you get the drift. 

I'm not sure if that's how it will work in South Africa.  I'm not sure what to expect.  Here, I don't feel too much obligation to satisfy people's curiosity.  But maybe in South Africa we might need to plan on being "adoption ambassadors" just a bit more?  Maybe we should be more open, knowing that many people in South Africa need to see a positive picture of adoption?  I just don't know.

(Are they brothers?  Are you kidding me?  They're so darn brotherly I can hardly stand it!  I so wish this picture was clearer because I love it!  But it's fun anyway, even if it is blurry.)

My Kids Rock

My kids are so great.

Yeah, lots of parents say this, and maybe I'm a little biased, and braggy moms are annoying.  But, jeepers creepers, mine are fabulous.

The boys and I went to a Superbowl get-together yesterday, and they were awesome.  They had a great time with the other little boy who was there.  They shared.  They played nicely.  They did not distract the adults from their conversations.  They entertained themselves.  Occasionally they came to me with some small crisis ("He's taking all the trains!"), but when I asked them to please work it out, they did.  Sparkle set a good example for the littler boys. 

I was so proud. 

Don't you know a few families that you would really rather not ever have over to your house, because their kids are unpleasant?  I do not think we are one of those families, and I'm so glad.  Small victories, maybe. ("Hey, we're not terrible!") 

I know that good behavior should be the default expectation.  And I know that bad days happen and they are still little ones.

But still, I was proud.  They made me feel like a good mom.  I know it's mostly that they are good kids, and we are a good team.  I can't take all the credit, but it was nice.

Then I yelled at them this morning.

Maybe not really yelled, but I definitely was not completely gentle and kind with them. 

You know Beloved is out of town, so I'm doing all the morning prep, getting the boys to school and then rushing too work.  (I take an hour off every AM and an hour off every PM when Beloved is gone, just to keep our schedule mostly on track, but still, it's just a bit of extra crazy in the morning when Beloved is gone.)  When we had 12 minutes before we had to be out the door, I was still wearing my pajama pants and none of us had brushed our teeth.  As I was trying to get dressed, both of them came running and crying to the bathroom door.  One was hurt ("I'm wounded!" he said), and the other was afraid he was going to be in trouble.  Meanwhile we were down to 11 minutes.  And I interrupted them and almost-yelled, "I can't deal with this right now!  I have to get dressed, BY MYSELF!"  And I closed the door.  And they both were devastated and crushed and horrified by the rejection.  Ack.  I was mad at them and mad at myself and mad at Beloved (for leaving me to deal with this, you know).  After about 20 seconds I opened the door and there were hugs and forgiveness all around.

We did manage to get to school on time, and it happened that they were coming out to the gymnastics bus as I was starting the car to leave.  They didn't know I was watching them.  Sparkle and Pumpkin were near each other in line, and Pumpkin got a little confused about where he was supposed to be going.  Sparkle was totally watching out for him, and ran back a few steps to Pumpkin, and put his arm around Pumpkin's shoulder and showed him where to go. 

Then on the way home at the end of the day, they were totally singing their hearts out and dancing in their car seats to a silly Hippopotamus Rock song.

They just melt my heart with their joy, and their kindness, and their soft, sweet, strong spirits.

   

Home Tour: Entry

Welcome!  Come on in!  The coffee's on and the banana bread is cooling, so I'll just show you around before we sit down for a nice chat.

The first view of the entry is what you see as you come in the door.  The living room is to your right. 

The second picture is of the entry from the living room.

As you go down the hallway toward the back of the house, you'll pass one of my favorite groups of pictures that we have displayed.  All of the pictures were taken near Duluth, Minnesota on the north shore of Lake Superior, which is where I was born and a special gathering place for my family.

At the end of the hallway is a little alcove thing which I think is intended to display great art, but we just have a little welcome sign.  The flowers in the basket are mostly dried roses that Beloved has given me.  (Um, he actually gave me fresh flowers, and I dried them.  Just in case that wasn't clear.)

The things I like about this part of the house are the tile and the banister, both of which we had installed after we moved in.  (Oh, I'll have to show you the Before pictures, too!)  I like that there is an entry, and a space for people to kind of be in the house without really being in the middle of our living area.  (You know how some houses have the front door that opens right into the family room?  That would drive me a little crazy.)

The things I don't like are that there's kind of a lot of empty wall space along the stairway.  The color was supposed to be a neutral, but in low light it looks pretty pink.  Hate the pink.  Hopefully we'll be able to have it repainted in the next year or so.  There's also a hole in the wall (I think you can see it in the second picture) where the doorknob hit the wall because the door stop fell off.  We should get that fixed, too, but we're kind of waiting until we do the re-painting.

Next up: the living room.

Old Photos: Ketchup 2003

I've been going through some old photos, and thinking, "Too bad I didn't have a blog back then, 'cause this photo is too good not to share!"  But, hey, I do have a blog now!  And sometimes older pictures are fun, too.  And I don't feel as nervous about showing older pictures of their full faces.  I don't know why.

So anyway, this picture was taken when Sparkle was eight months old.  It was one of those classic, "I just turned away for a second!" kind of moments.  I have no idea how an eight month old got into the cupboard, got out the ketchup, and unscrewed the lid all in less than a minute.  You've got to be impressed by that...