I Wanna Do Dat!

Noemi's first prayer (which I regrettably don't have on video) is when she thanked God for "ketchup, mustard, ketchup, mustard, mustard and ketchup." Well done, baby. Nothing is a more genuine prayer for a 2-year-old than that.

Since that celebration of condiments, Donovan and I have tried to get video of her saying "grace" at the dinner table. But she's on to us and is refusing to say much of anything these days. oops. Way to kill a good thing, mom. So...this is what we have to date but we'll keep trying for more. We eat a lot of grilled cheese and tomato soup now that she is a part of our lives. Somehow me slaving over eggplant rollatini just doesn't happen with the frequency that it did before Little Miss Busy Booty came along.

It's hard not to miss how annoyed she was that I, too, said "amen." Heaven forbid, my dear. Don't cross my girl--she has chutzpah.

Walking Some Talking

In my last post I meagerly attempted to raise awareness of the church's "orphan care movement" and how some of the language used can be harmful to adoptive families, specifically adoptees. I've never intended to have a political blog, and I'm not about to start. I'm no activist, just a mom who loves her daughter. Now that I am off of my soapbox (well, maaaaybe), I'd like to follow-up.

I mentioned that there are many ways people can care for the millions, yes millions, of children who are without families here in the US and abroad. This staggering tragedy should not be ignored. Children are suffering. And though I am not interested in twisting anyone's arm by posting shocking photos that trigger guilt, those photos accurately represent the reality for millions of children. Noemi eventually found a family again. But there are many children who wait. And wait. And eventually reach an age of no longer being allowed to be adopted. They simply "age-out." And though I would strongly suggest adoption for people who are in the position to expand their family, it may not be possible for everyone.

But caring for the children on this planet IS for everyone.

Noemi's hometown, Dire Dawa, Ethiopia, is stunningly vibrant. It is also extremely poor. It is the second largest city in Ethiopia and sits near the Somali border. It has been hit hard by recent droughts. While we were there, we were witness the effects of a devastating flood that happened years prior. Nothing could prepare me for the things we saw during our short visit and for the emotions we felt while absorbing Noemi's people. It was hands-down the most beautiful and agonizing day of my life...and I am only now beginning to process much of it.Our adoption agency recently started expanding its work to Dire Dawa. They now have programs that sponsor at-risk children so that they can remain living with their families and go to school. They also provide social supports to help prevent the cycle of poverty and disease, specifically for girls--which, ultimately, prevents children from loosing their families and needing to be adopted in the first place.

If you feel compelled to act, you can read about some of the sponsorship students here and related programs in Dire Dawa here. For our family, it is our way of honoring Noemi's hometown and the people who gifted her to us. It is our way of caring about what put her in the position of ever needing to be adopted.

Lucky, and Other Potentially Frustration-Producing Thoughts

Orphan care. Jesus commands us to take care of the fatherless and the least of these. Certainly, for those of us who profess a personal relationship with Jesus, we are called, all of us, to be a part of and care for our global family. We are not to turn our eyes away. We are not to make excuses and expect someone else to do the dirty work because our lives are just too comfortable.

But here's where I get all grumpy in the pants over this important topic.

My daughter--any child--is not a charity case. This, unfortunately, has become the predominant narrative surrounding orphans within the church. My daughter never was someone to be "saved" (after all, it could be argued that she saved me). She is not the dirty work. And I am not a savior or someone who is a good person because of adopting my daughter. Though there are many valid points to be made in this "orphan care movement," the movement can have some dangerous elements. It often elevates the adoptive families and the developed countries that house many of them to savior status, consequently deeming the birth family and its culture as lesser-value...something that is not worthy in its own right. That living with significantly less is somehow a worthless life. It puts us in "helping" mode, which ultimately assigns us the power position. And when one race, class or culture is in power, no one wins in the eyes of God.

Let's just review, for a moment, comments that Donovan and I have recently received by complete strangers in (most often) check-out lines at your average retail establishment. Have I mentioned that we are magnets for bizarre-o Costco patrons?

-Wow--she's such a lucky little girl.
-It takes a special person to do what you are doing.
-Awwww...(sad, puppy dog eyes)...are you a missionary?
-You are doing a really a good thing. Bless you.
-You know, I have a special place in my heart for the blacks, too. (cue gasp--I can't make this crap up)

When we use words like "lucky" we negate our child's tragic history and dismiss the life-long process that our children will need to go through to process what has happened to them. It invalidates their experiences at the deepest of levels. It also heaps expectations on them that they are supposed to be grateful to their adoptive parents for something they did not choose.

Would you call me lucky if I told you that I lost my parents when I was a baby? Then I was taken to multiple orphanages where many strangers were caring for me--I didn't have a family--just strangers taking turns being nice? Then I became sick, but went virtually untreated because, well, there were other babies in life-threatening situations so the resources had to go to them instead. I was sick and scared without a mamma until one day a stranger came along and took me to (let's just say for argument's sake) Mongolia where nothing was the same. And I was supposed to love and trust these strangers who didn't look or talk like me. And everyone, upon arriving to that strange place with my strangers, told me I was lucky.

Give me a break. I cannot support the over-sentimentalized statement that Noemi was meant to be mine from the start. I am just a hell-of-a-good Plan B. Plan A was for her parents to be living, healthy and loving on her. Plan A was for her to be raised with her family in her culture. But given what did happen to her, we are blessed to have found each other. God gave her to me and me to her --we were chosen for each other (I believe that)--as a result of the ugly that happened in her life.

I don't want to mince words here. There is tragedy happening to children, to families, all over this planet and we are called to do something about that. Yes indeedy.

We are to care...to align...to live with...to get dirty together. We are not to stoop down, swoop up and fly away with eyes closed while claiming victory. Caring takes many different forms and we should not negate the importance of the role that caring can take outside of parenting. If we bring a child from difficult places into our life because we feel like we "should," not because it is something we want to do with all of our might--if it is about a feeling of convicted-duty to take care of an orphan rather than a burning desire to parent a child--we and our child just may struggle to survive the deep valleys of the relationship.

Dire Dawa, Ethiopia, August 2009

Of course it is better that Noemi is no longer living in an orphanage or in poverty where hunger and preventable diseases riddle the population (but let's not forget that not ALL of Ethiopia lives this way--lest I reinforce any inaccuracies). But doesn't every child deserve to be loved, fed and free from hepatitis and HIV? Shouldn't such things be basic human rights? I would dare to say those are some pretty meager expectations if we consider having basic human rights "lucky." We should all be able to live in the family in which we were born, in our country, thriving and learning and growing up strong and courageous enough to do good--to be good--in this world. My wish for my daughter was that she had that in Ethiopia. So let's place our focus on preventing children from ever becoming orphaned in the first place. But that's another post for another day...

I will not argue that we are a pretty dang good Plan B. I intend to attempt to help her fulfill the rest of the aforementioned sentence (...thriving and learning and growing up strong and courageous enough to do good--to be good--in this world). But don't call me a missionary because I wanted to parent a child. Don't put Noemi in the position of feeling like her heritage is something of lesser value and that her loss is--ehhhhhh--probably for the best. And please don't infer that God intended it to be this way. Our children may grow up to resent this Christian movement because of certain pieces that can gravely misrepresent the work and words of Christ. So please, let's be very careful as we learn, together, how to care for the growing number of orphans on this planet, Christian or not.

Because sometimes, just sometimes, the timer works...

...even if our heads are chopped off. i can't even stand that Noemi has her arm around Donovan's neck. we didn't ask her to do that. can't even stand it.

may the days of happy keep on rollin'.

Operation GetOuttaDodge

Just a little bit o happy

Operation: Successful

We stayed in Deerfield Beach, Florida for (thanks to the great ice storm of 2011) 9 glorious days. I say glorious because frankly, they were the best 9 days we have had as a family in (quite possibly) ever.

Donovan and I were fully prepared for Noemi to feel anxious by the change of routine, but she proved us wrong. I'm not sure what made the difference for Noemi. That little comfort switch in her head flipped within a few days of us going and has been on since. We've had wonderful periods before, but each time they feel more complete and our overall hope increases. And the sunshine didn't hurt any of us, either.

Our 4 suitcases were chuck full of half of the crap in our house. Included were her favorite toys, books...you name it...as well as all of her bedding in an effort to recreate Noemi's smells-like-home sleep space. Schlepping the obnoxiousness of all that loot through the airport was a bit embarrassing (we only took 3 suitcases to Ethiopia), but worth it. After the first few nights she slept well and even came into bed with us to sleep and snuggle. Snuggle? Whhhhat? And in the morning I would wake up to a little nose in my face happily saying, "Morning, Mommy! Howbout beach?"

Another happy choice? The small apartment we rented half of a block from the beach. We went to the grocery store so that we could eat in, keeping routines with familiar foods. With being so close to the beach we walked back and forth for naps, making the little space our constant touch-down pad. Noemi obviously felt very at home there, but aptly understood it was temporary. Any time I referred to it as home she promptly corrected me, "No Mommy, not home. Hotel."
More than anything else, I wonder if the low stimulation, uninterrupted Mommy and Daddy time was just what Noemi needed. No phone calls, no errands, no visits from family and friends, no leaving the house for work...just play, play, play with us. She had both of us all to herself. She didn't know anyone else around, so she trusted us as hers. There were few triggers of panic--and each time she recovered before it switched into epic, no-return mode. She allowed us to consistently be her parents without fearing and challenging it. I didn't need to say things like, "It's OK for Mommy to hug you-- that's what Mommies do with their little girls" the way we have been doing for months. We could feel that she was trusting us at a deeper level. It's like she has a new understanding of membership in our lives. No lines blurred--we are family--she is ours and we are hers.

"Look, Daddy, Look!" She begged us to watch her dance. And hop down the steps. And jump in the water. And swim. And throw her body into sand castles. And spin. And fly like a birdie. And, and, and...just as long as we didn't stop watching her. And we were happy to do so.The constant water time sure was therapeutic. Between the ocean and the pool at the "hotel," Noemi was wet for a solid 50% of our trip--that's her kinda vacation. Our little fish has been asking to go to the beach since arriving home. Sorry, baby, It'll be a few more months until the Jersey shore warms up enough to show it our bathing suits.

sporting her "hip hops"

Noemi was only sometimes bossy with her new beach friend, Anna.

Digging "pools" in the sand--and "decorating" with shells--a girl of detail.

Noemi loved that blow-up boat. Possibly the best $6 we ever spent.

I kept our calendar empty for the days after homecoming...buffer days. Necessary? Nope. The coming-down crash never came. Instead she settled right into our routines at home all while maintaining her playful and affectionate mood. It's been days...and we're still holding strong.

Here is where I let out my deep, satisfied, happy sigh and thank the good Lord for the many blessings of this trip--mainly, allowing my bones to warm up--and the many blessings of my husband and daughter. Do I hear an Amen?

beach stance, yo

Pop

We're home.

It was a therapeutic trip for our little family-o-three. Just what the doctor ordered.

I'll make you Northern dwellers jealous with warm-weather photos and provide you with plenty of cutie belly-in-bikini shots (of her, of course..this belly's not as cute as it used to be). But only after I finish washing the pile of sunblock saturated laundry.

For now, a teaser of the playfulness that has taken over my daughter will have to do.

These Are a Few of My Favorite Things

...I just wanna nibble on them.

We're not coming home quite yet

The clan has been enjoying the Atlantic coast of Florida, hence my absence from Bloggerland.

Here is a little tease of the sunshine happy that has been going on for the past week...




And here is a peek as to why we have to extend our stay for a few days. You know, until the ice storm passes. Mwwwwwwaaaaahhhhhhhhh....