There is a lot of hot buzz in the adoption community. I have not commented on it because I have been sitting tight to see what, if anything, settles. The office of Ministry of Women, Children and Youth Affairs is the governing agency that handles adoption paperwork in Ethiopia. It issued a statement a few weeks ago that the number of adoptions that will be processed per day will be dramatically reduced. Once it showed up as an alert on the State Department's website I knew to take it seriously. Since then there have been many unofficial and official conversations about how this may impact Ethiopian adoptions. It appears that MOWCYA will receive much needed assistance to help process adoptions faster, but most information is speculative at this point. All things considered, it will likely slow down the already long adoption process.
I fully support Ethiopia making these changes in an effort to secure that every adoption in Ethiopia is ethical. MOWCYA is a small agency that has been overwhelmed by the recent surge in adoptions, working hard to make sure that paperwork such as death certificates and abandonment police reports are not falsified. And where there is an increase of families looking to adopt a child, there is undoubtedly an increase in greed and corruption. MOWCYA is putting on the brakes in an effort to correct this. Unfortunately, the result of a slow-down means that children may wait in orphanages for a substantially longer time and families will wait accordingly for their child to come home. Orphanages will be caring for children longer, meaning more of their resources will be tapped. Of course we expect all adoptions to be ethical. And of course we want to minimize the time a child receives institutional care. So this is sticky.
Icky, ooey gooey sticky.
International adoption is complicated and takes a long time. For this reason, our intention was to start the adoption process for a second child shortly after Noemi came home. We completed the initial application, but our process soon came to a screeching halt. If you have read this blog for any length of time then you know that we have had to place all of our energy on helping Noemi transition. We knew that SHE and that WE were not ready for another child as soon as we had originally thought. But as we prepared to jump back into the piles of paperwork for bambino #2 a few months ago, I felt unsettled. The unsettled feeling grew. We decided to wait. And then the MOWCYA announcement came.
Now we are not sure what to do.
If I have learned one thing through our long family building process it is this: I can expect God to faithfully reveal his plan for our family, but I can't expect him to do it in my timing.
Noemi is getting older. The process is taking longer. How to build one's family is a very personal decision, and every family is different. Our family is now part Ethiopian. We feel connected and committed to that country for obvious reasons. But Ethiopia does not owe our family its children. And we have many things to weigh when making this decision. Noemi has needs to consider. My burned-out ragged ol' self has limitations to consider. Risk is an ever-present force in the land of adoption; it's just choosing which risks to take on given our family's current needs. There is much. much. much to consider.
We have begun looking into all options again. A blank slate. Starting over is a daunting process. Donovan and I chose to adopt through our placing agency because we knew that they had a long history of humanitarian work, they support hard-to-place children and adhere to strict ethical practices. They are well respected by governmental officials in Ethiopia. I spent months researching agencies, reading mission statements and asking hard questions. I was shocked by how many adoption agencies couldn't tell me where each penny went and how they chose to help countries and families prevent adoption from ever becoming necessary. Above all else, I was disheartened by how many agencies stress the speed of the adoption process rather than the truthfulness of it.
A few weary tears were shed over the confusion of this process, but we know we will find the best answer for our family. Things may smooth out with Ethiopian adoptions. Or they may not. But finding the best path for our family is not a logical decision by any means--there are too many variables that can go one way or another. In order to survive building a family through adoption I have to surrender my inner-planner and (try to) trust the inner voice of God's guidance--even when I think his timing sucks.
For all of you out there looking for a bathing suit for your daughter, run to Gymboree and get THE ONE THAT COMES WITH THE (dare I say freakin' adorable?) SWIM CAP. And it's on sale right now...so use those legs and get going!
Just think...
...less water in her recently tubed ears.
...less sand in her freshly coiled hair.
...less chlorine on her fragile little curls.
What could be better than a bathing suit with a swim cap? The even cuter bikini that coordinates with the swim cap. You betcha--had to get both. I would have just gotten the bikini if the swim cap had been sold separately; but I'll forgive Gymboree for the marketing ploy. I'm just the kind of sucker they are looking for. I'll be exchanging the bikini for a smaller size because Noemi does not require nearly as much fabric when her kissable Buddha belly is left to bulge free.
Genius.
You're pure genius, Gymboree girls' bathing suit designers.
One of Noemi's greatest joys? Her recent obsession with candy.
Not actual candy (though she digs that, too) but the play kind. We bought her a pretend birthday cake for her birthday, complete with jelly bean, gummy drop and strawberry velcro chips that decorate the cake slices. Seems odd to decorate a cake with such things, but she's borderline obsessive about these (what she collectively refers to as) "candy" chips.
Everywhere I turn...candy chips. It's like Candy Land puked in unsuspecting places throughout the house.Mommy, you want candy soup?Here you go, Mommy, candy for you! I have woken up most mornings in the past few weeks to candy being pushed against my lips or placed on my pillow for later. I don't dare leave my dinner unattended or candy will surely be added to my plate. Or, she may just move her peanut butter sandwich aside to make room for candy on her plate. I find them in most every pocket of her sweaters; and she is constantly trying to smuggle them out of the house. When I changed her out of her footed pjs yesterday morning, two candy chips fell out of her footies. Hmmmm...now she's sleeping with them, too. My diplomatic Noemi is an equal opportunity lender, making sure her stuffed animals and the cats have a sufficient supply of candy. She put one piece in the cat's food bowl the other day-- Layla approached the bowl, sniffed it and walked away. Noemi decided Layla's lack of interest was because she wanted more candy, so she dumped a handful in the bowl.So if you're interested in candy on your pizza--or pizza toppings chips with your candy when candy just isn't enough--I know the girl for you. These are the very things I love most about her. Our Secret Candy Fairy is using her creative noggin' each time she sprinkles them here or there, tucks them in hard-to-reach places or tries to flush them down the toilet. Whatagirl.
My girl has been sick. More ear infections coupled with more allergies... throw in another asthma flare-up and it resulted in a small pharmacy on the kitchen counter. She was on Prednizone for the week (reallllly? Prednizone for an already anxious kid...I won't even begin to describe the chaos that ensued. Just picture her opening the front door and frantically chucking her toys like an ultimate frisbee player onto the sidewalk while belly laughing) and she is scheduled for another ear tube surgery next week. The doc confirmed that she's not hearing well--I've been noticing that she has been dropping speech sounds that she used to make consistently--too much ear nonsense going on. And so, Noemi and I have been busy picking up the toys from the sidewalk...
Today was hair day! Watching her new Betty Boop DVD while I coiled her hair. You can't see the ocean of products because they are well out of her reach.
Last week marked 18 months that Noemi has been home. That's 18 months of me washing, conditioning, deep conditioning, finger-detangling, product slathering, primping, experimenting with styles, attempting to fix failed attempts at styles and more primping her hair. It's been an adventure for this white mamma with straight, fine hair. Up until this point I have relied on the kind advise of strangers in the aisles of Sally's, pouring through websites on natural African hair and anonymously stalking Youtube videos to learn how to best care for Noemi's beautiful curls. I've found a few styles that suit Noemi's hair-type and her intolerance for sitting for long periods of time (and mine) and I've stuck with them.
Hair is a funny thing. It's so public. I can hide the fact that I skipped Noemi's bath the night before or that I forgot to turn on the dishwasher so, hey, her cruddy sippy cup was rinsed rather than washed. But you can't hide hair. Unless you're a white girl, and then you do the ponytail or throw on a hat. Easy-peesy. But with Noemi if I am running late getting out the door I'd sooner skip brushing her teeth than fixing her hair. Her hair is to be respected. Plain and simple.
I have been graciously told what I should or shouldn't be doing with Noemi's hair; and I've realized these comments are conflicting as people have strong personal opinions about hair. Such comments have made me feel like I should doubt my abilities to manage her hair, simply because we are different races. But that's a load of bunk. Sure, it's been tricky to learn something new, and it is my responsibility to figure out how to care for her hair well, but c'mon, I'm capable. My out-of-touch WASPy grandmother acts like it must be an impossible feat to care for Noemi's hair. Oh my. It's just hair, Oma. Be not afraid. Careful...but not afraid. This is not nuclear physics.
My time in the shadows is over. I was tired of wondering if I was truly caring for her hair well. It was due time for me to consult a professional. Noemi's not nearly as sensory defensive now, and her ability to sit still has improved to being mildly better than that of a fly, so I figured she might be ready for someone else to fiddle with her curls.Noemi recently took her first steps into a salon and allowed the stylist to do the Disco on her hair. She was such a champ, albeit a nervous champ. But in the end, she emerged with a fresh wash, trim and style and, most importantly, the candy necklace I stash in my purse for emergencies. I walked out of Jas It Up! with renewed confidence as a mother from being told that I am doing a great job keeping her hair healthy. I was concerned that she had breakage around her hair line, but the shorter hair is just baby hair yet to have grown in, so big sigh of relief. Noemi just loved the stylist and was so proud of herself (Mommy, I be brave!). And I was extraordinarily proud of her. My typically chatty gal didn't open her mouth once while in that chair; but it was all she talked about for days after the appointment. I know we'll be back.
The stylist's one suggestion? To purchase a silk sleep cap for Noemi to preserve her styles and help reduce drying out/breakage while she sleeps. Done. I had just ordered one weeks before from Pretty AnntoiNet's. Noemi was thrilled to pic out the color bow online and then watch it show up in her mailbox a few days later. She asks to wear it most every night--couldn't be any cuter. And so, I have officially crossed over into confident I-can-manage-my-child's-hair-just-fine-and-need-not-be-worried-in-public-or-have-a-complex-that-I-may-be-doing-something-wrong zone. Still seeking help, still in trial-and-error mode, but perfectly capable. No reason to doubt myself anymore.
