Dominion--The Alpha and Omega (or Beginning and End)

We had a long and full weekend, and I debated not blogging about it because I don't have pictures and really who wants to know what we did last weekend.  Then I realized this is my blog and I can do what I want.  Plus our activities are not any more or less boring than my opinions--in fact for the few family members swinging by our activities are more interesting.

Friday was playing Dominion at a friend's house--totally fun because I wasn't the one taking care of her sick kids while her husband is out of town.  I'm really not a very good friend.  I even won most of the games.

Saturday morning was toddler gymnastics for Sunflower with Daddy, swim and snorkeling for the boys, and elliptical and bike for me--all at the Y.  Then drive by two houses for sale which we will not be buying.  

Around noon we arrived at the 13th Annual Asia Pacific New Year put on by the Asia Pacific Cultural Center.  We didn't know what to expect, but we wanted to go.  There was a stage with different performances throughout the day.  The ones we were able to see where from Thailand because this year's focus was Thailand.  There were booths sponsored by different groups.  There was food, crafts, and clothes from a variety of Asian countries.  We bought food from 5 different places trying a variety of things--all of which were very tasty though recalling the name of some of them is difficult.  The boys really enjoyed their Samoan pancakes and I loved my potsticker from the Chinese Christian Church booth.

 

The children made lanterns at the Korean Buddhist Temple booth.  Sunflower started one with the help of the lady running the table.  The lady would put the glue on and stick the paper next to the glue and then tell Sunflower, "Push it, baby."  After awhile Sunflower got bored and Huckleberry finished it.  They were out of the colored paper at our table, so their lanterns didn't look quite as amazing as some of the other ones we saw, but it was a cool project and the kids had fun.

Overall we had a good time though it was a little crowded and we had to leave before the Chinese Language School kids did their dance.  I did see the children in their outfits and with their parents, several of which were Caucasian.  The school teaches Mandarin, art, and dance for all ages.  It is probably where we will go with our children someday.  It made me a little sad we aren't there yet.  We might have Huckleberry and I take some classes there this summer or next fall.  SnapDragon said he'd like to learn the dance but he didn't want to learn Mandarin yet though he is probably the one that would find it easiest to learn.

Then we met my dad at my grandma's new assisted living apartment.  It is a nice place and she seems content.  Really making it until 91 in her own place was an amazing achievement and mostly do to my aunt's hard work.  Then Dad took us out to Red Robin for dinner, and I had the Teriyaki Chicken Burger.  I thought about ordering something different but decided I had expanded my openness to different food enough for one day.

Sunday was another nice day--church, talking to friends, a quiet afternoon at home with the boys actually cooperating with the cleaning and Sunflower sleeping.  In the evening we went to the first in a six week small group series for church.  The kids went to childcare at the church while the adults met at a house.  A lot of people were there, so a little overwhelming, but a challenging video and open discussion, plus nice people many of them I do know.  I am looking forward to the rest of the sessions.  

The weekend ended with 2 games of Dominion--the board game!--with my husband in which I crushed him and a little T.V.  Here's to more nice weekends--though I promise not to blog about each one.

 

I Believe in Bribery

If the 2 year old goes potty in a plastic recepticle can we rejoice in her potty training triumphs as she shouts "I pee, I pee!", or do we have to take into account that she was standing in a plastic wagon and had all her clothes on?

Sunflower sure seemed to think she should still get her "pee candy."  I may forget the real name of Reeses Pieces when this is finally over.  Not really sure when that will be since SnapDragon sometimes still asks for candy for doing his business.  

"Ummm, no, you are seven."

Adopting an older child, say 12, is more and more appealing everyday.

What Would You Do?

It is pretty obvious that I am currently obsessed with adoption and all things adoption related; or not all because I couldn't care less that Jillian Michaels is adopting.  Because of this obsession I have come across the illustration of getting married but the next day being told you have a different husband and then a few years later a different husband.  For some reason you do not fight this and eventually happily accept it only to have it torn from you one more time.  The point of this illustration is to help pre-adoptive families shift the focus of adoption from themselves--ie joy and love in a new eagerly anticipated child--to the child herself--total world shift for no apparent reason.  I read it with interest the first time, but now I have seen it no less than 4 times and possibly up to 7 times.  However, as is true for all analogies it only makes sense to a certain point.

The story says to imagine how you would feel.  I imagine I would feel anger, fear, grief, frustration, like maybe I'm crazy, sadness, terror, and anger, as would a child whose whole world changed in an instant.  However, it cannot go on to say imagine what you would do, because what an adult woman would do is very different from what a child would do.  I would have options that are not available for a child.  If I cannot find my original husband and demand explanations, at minimum I do not have to accept this new life.  I can leave, find a job, start over.  My grief and fear would not go away, but my anger would give me the oomph to get past it and do what needs to be done to control my life.  Okay, just thinking about this helps me see why so many adopted children have "control issues."

My point is, that as valuable as I found this illustration, it is thinking about how my two year old would respond if she was suddenly sent to China with a new family that gives me an even deeper insight into the adopted child's perspective.  I think I'll share what revelations that gave me in a different post because my husband says my posts are too long* but if you have a child, adopted or bio, or know a child try to envision what she/he would feel or do if sent to live with another family.  I think you will have a similar list to mine and a broken heart; and a heart broken with compassion for our children can only make us better parents.

* I have only posted my status on facebook about 10 times, and twice it was with a note because the status space was too short, so I switched to blogging.  What is longer than a blog?

Creamy Tan Until I'm Older

It may not appear so from my blog, but I haven't actually had very many conversations with my children about race.  Partly because I haven't really figured out what to say, as evidenced by this conversation I had with SnapDragon 5 months ago.

The books say children don't connect skin color with race until age 4-6 and that children under 6 will often answer the question of their color or another's color with the color of their shirt.

Me:  What color are you?
SnapDragon:  What do you mean?
Me:  What color is your skin?
SnapDragon (looking at his arm pensively): a creamy tan

SnapDragon was six.  The books also say that until about age six they don't know skin color is permanent that perhaps is changes with age like height and hair color.

Me:  Do you think you'll always be creamy tan?
SnapDragon:  No.  I think I'll be darker when I grow up.
Me: Darker, how?  Like the people at the next table?  (They were Latino)
SnapDragon:  Darker like you.  (I think I'm about the same color as SnapDragon).
Me:  What about Sunflower?
SnapDragon:  I don't know.  I don't know what color she wants to be when she grows up.  Maybe darker like you and me. (I think she is already darker than I with her tan Sicilian skin, but who am I to correct the artist in the family?)

This first conversation with SnapDragon clearly did nothing to further his understanding about skin color and race.  I didn't even correct his odd misconceptions because I didn't know how.  I didn't want to take away his innocence or force him to start seeing race and perhaps take away the wrong message from it.  Yet the books say that not talking about race is in itself an aspect of white privilege.  However, I do want him to learn about race and racism from me and my husband, so we'd better read some more books and start talking.  What book would you suggest?
 

100th Post

Our Little Tongginator (and apparently other blogs) listed 100 things for their 100th post.  I thought I would do the same.  Let's start with that:
1.  I want to be Tonggu Mama when I grow up;
2.  I'm two years older so that will be difficult.
3.  I really, really dislike animals;
4.  Even dogs.
5.  I took 7 years of piano lessons.
6.  I love playing piano but...
7.  I cannot retain a proper tempo.
8.  I find typing relaxing.
9.  The book I read over and over is "The Blue Sword" by Robin McKinley.
10.  I have read the Bible, but some parts not as frequently as "The Blue Sword."
11.  I do not have a cell phone which means
12.  I have never sent a text message.
13.  I spent a month in Japan
14.  as an exchange student
15.  with my cousin's high school
16.  when I was 12.
17.  My favorite food is pizza and
18.  peanut m&m's.
19.  I am addicted to coke--the beverage.
20.  I was an English major in college but
21.  love math
22.  which is why I know I'm two years older than Tonggu Mama
23.  not because I am a stalker mama at all and
24.  love numbers
25.  which is why I hate my first post of every month because
26.  it means my lovely growing number of posts goes back down to one and
27.  love patterns
28.  which makes me wonder if FDB had the same number of posts for 2009 and 2010 on purpose.
29.  My secret career dream is to be a stand-up comedian but
30.  I say ummm too often and
31.  what I think is funny often differs from what others think is funny.
32.  I went to school on Senior Skip Day because
33.  I had skipped an assembly once and 
34.  I was such a kill joy my friends didn't want me to skip school again.
35.  I love school.
36.  I used to say I wanted to be a professional student when I grew up but
37.   that is because I went to public school and didn't realize you had to pay for schooling after 12th grade.
38.  In 7th grade I begged to be sent to private school so I could wear a uniform and fit in.
39.  My favorite color is burgundy.
40.  Burgundy is the first color Huckleberry learned.
41.  My sister and her family just moved into their first home which
42.  was built for them by Habitat for Humanity
43.  in Minnesota.
44.  She is very thankful for the great insulation on her new home.
45.  We just watched Despicable Me for the first time.
46.  I don't know what I think about it.
47.  It made me cry and
48.  I'm a little tired of crying.
49.  The boys thought it was great.
50.  I got kicked out of ballet when I was 7 for not knowing how to skip.
51.  Okay, that was a lie.
52.  My ballet teacher was very mean and I wanted to quit because she made me feel bad about not knowing how to skip.
53.  My mom told me I could quit ballet once I learned how to skip.
54.  I learned how to skip that week and 
55.  sometimes still get around by skipping--you go so much faster.
56.  I showed my teacher I could skip and quit.
57.  My mom probably did not get a refund which would have annoyed her.

My favorite TV shows from the past that I'll watch again are:
58.  Scarecrow and Mrs. King
59.  Boy Meets World
60.  Friends  
61.  Monk

My current favorite TV shows are:
62.  Psych
63.  Lie to Me
64.  Chuck (because it is based on my life story--really!)
65.  NCIS
66.  Bones

67.  It is really hard for me to come up with 100 even partially interesting facts about myself and
68.  I'm still not done.
69.  I have read the entire Chronicles of Narnia series a minimum of 10 times.
70.  The first one I read was "The Horse and His Boy" because I was looking for books about horses when I was 7.
71.  "The Magician's Nephew" is my favorite.
72.  My real name is Nora.
73.  I figure if you have read this far you deserve to know it.
74.  My children's names are--just kidding, but I am getting desperate.
75.  I plan to eat left over Chinese food for lunch
76.  once I put Sunflower down for nap.
77.  My favorite book of the Bible is Philippians. 
78.  When I feel overwhelmed I say I'm moving to Texas.
79.  It has been Texas since at least high school.
80.  High school was a long, long time ago.
81.  I dreamed about my 20th high school reunion last night.
82.  It was this last October and
83.  I didn't go though I could have gone.
84.  Maybe I regret that.
85.  I love furniture.
86.  I laughed when my sister tripped once.
87.  She was 11 and I was 13.
88.  It was quite funny because her salad flew in the air all together and landed together.
89.  Truly it was a great demonstration of the laws of motion but
90.  I feel bad for laughing--now.
91.  I was in girl scouts from 1st grade until I graduated high school.
92.  I learned to use a compass, build a fire, and canoe in girl scouts.
93.  I am afraid of heights though I am getting better.
94.  On the other hand, I love flying.
95.  I have never felt more boring than at this moment.

My family's favorite games are:
96.  Settlers of Catan
97.  Dominion and 
98.  Blockus
99.  Only one more left.
100.  Did I mention that I love math?

 

What Can I Do?

When I was five we went to Disneyland--my two older foster siblings, my younger sister, my dad, and my mom who was pregnant with my little brother (and didn't tell the workers so she could still ride all of the rides.)  Mostly it is all a blur of running from place to place and fun.  However, I have a few clear memories of that day, and one that has nothing to do with Disneyland being the happiest place on earth.

Since I was only five most people were taller than me and all I remember is a rush of different colored shirts swirling around me.  We were standing in a line that wrapped back and forth through horizontal barred fences when I saw a little girl just my height.  Her family was directly in front of us in line.  She was the most beautiful little girl I had ever seen and she had the most beautiful white princess dress on and pretty shoes.  She was also African American.  The year would have been 1978. 

I do not remember what anyone said, but I still remember a few things clearly from that moment.  I said hi, and she turned away.  When we went around a corner we both had our hands on the bars and touched.  She pulled her hand away like I had burnt her.  At some point my parents moved me away from the front of our family to the back of our family (I think I was asking why won't she talk to me?), and I could only see the little girl as we went around corners.  Then finally I got on the ride convinced of two things--this little princessy girl didn't like me for some reason and it hurt.

At some point, I don't know if it was the same day or months or years later, I decided this little girl's response was because I was white and she was black, possibly because of conversations with my mom that I don't remember.  As I grew I would "learn" it was because I was Caucasian and she was African American.  And I became convinced deep down in my soul that if racism is defined as judging someone by the color of their skin then it hurt and it was wrong!

Let me be clear, I am not telling this story to "prove" white people experience racism, too.  I am not sharing because I am claiming this one incident scarred me for life.  In fact, while I thought about it a lot, I know it doesn't compare at all to what minorities experienced who grew up the same time I did.  I use it to illustrate that a child doesn't have to know all the history, or about institutional racism, or white privilege to know that racism exists; and I think that children, unless they are taught differently, will decide it is wrong.

The question then becomes what to do with their sense of injustice and desire to change the world?  I know that by the time I was in high school I was convinced I wasn't allowed to fight racism.  I think this mostly came from movies and tv--"Go home, white girl, you don't know what racism is.  We don't need your liberal, fake compassion, rich girl."  I would never label myself liberal, compassionate or rich, but I was white and thought, oh, I'm not supposed to get involved.  Maybe this sounds completely naive and ridiculous to you, honestly it does to me, also, but I was really convinced fighting against racism and for civil rights was something I didn't have the "right" to participate in because I was not discriminated against.  I thought my job was to stay away and just "not be racist"--whatever that meant.

I still don't know exactly what my role is.  I don't think it is writing powerful messages that change people's hearts because truly everything under the sun has already been written and others know a lot more about this than I do.  But I have learned a few things in my preliminary reading that have freed me up to at least try.

First, at minimum I need to root out prejudice and racism in myself.  This is not as easy as it sounds because our culture is rooted in racism and it is very difficult to identify while seeing things through my white lenses.  There is a lot to read that can help me start with this.  The blog "Resist Racism" for one.  I plan to create (or copy) a larger list as I expand my own reading.  Some of the things on the internet are difficult to read since it is written by hurting, angry people, but until I see racism I cannot fight it.  

One fun but challenging way I identified my prejudices was to take these tests created by Harvard.  I took the ones on Asians--no preference; African Americans--slight prejudice against; and President Obama vs President Kennedy--preferred Obama.  The last one quite surprised me since I wasn't really around during Kennedy's politics, but then I realized my preference wasn't political but that I believe Kennedy cheated on his wife and Obama hasn't.

Secondly, I need to stand up when things are said around me that are racist or even might be racist.   I really don't have people around me that tell racist jokes or at least not that I have noticed.  As my eyes are opened I might notice them more often or maybe my friends really are that enlightened (actually I think my closest friends are).  Either way, as I learn my friends will be hearing all about it.  That is just who I am.  I have already had several interesting conversations with people in the last few months about racism and race.

Thirdly, there are several things about racism that in America as the majority race Caucasians are the only ones with the power to change.  Peggy McIntosh's "White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack" was published in 1988.  Not enough things (if any) on the list have changed in the last 23 years to make it obsolete.  There is a lot to unpack, but one of the things I took from this article is that minorities can protest about how unfair things are forever, but at this time only Caucasians have enough power to change things in certain situations.  Therefore, we must find those situations and change things.

The more I read the more I realize how much I do not know and how far I need to come.  How I wish, I wish, I had started sooner--right after I met that beautiful little girl in her Sunday best who was afraid to say hi.

Just to Clarify

Reading through my past posts I realize my blog may give the impression that:

a. I am emotionally unstable and
b.  My children are the most intellectual, spiritual, perfect, and gorgeous children in the world

I thought I would explain why that may appear to be the case:

1. Because it is true.  I feel like I'm fairly even keel typically but adoption, spiritual conviction, two family deaths, and growing in compassion has brought me to weeping more often in the last six months than all of the years of my life.  And my kids--well, they are perfect.

2.  While in reality my children may not appear perfect to people who are not their parents, I don't like to share too many of their less than perfect moments on the blog because they would be embarrassed.

3.  The times I am able to sit down to blog almost always coincide with when I am feeling most fond of my children.  In other words, I can blog when my children are doing what I asked, sleeping, or playing quietly together, thus making it more likely I'll say nice things about them.

4.  As much as I want to be authentic and real on my blog because it is something I strive to do everyday in real life (often getting me in trouble), I am a little afraid to admit my parenting failures and childrens' faults in writing before we complete our adoption.  

However, in the interest of proving we are a "real" family and not a "made-up" internet family, in the last half hour we've:

gotten a phone call from school about a fundraiser we knew nothing about

had two of our three kids in tears, 3 separate times, make that 4--each

put one child in time-in for throwing a hard toy at brother

sent one child to his room to calm down after losing at his DS game

gotten kicked in the face by a two year old who laughed at our pain

had one--make that two--kids whine and pout when Daddy started a Blue's Clues at the end

I could keep going, but this really is NOT a good time to be on my blog.