First meeting: May 23, 2009
Tuesday night: November, 24, 2009
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Thoughts at 6 months, part 1
It has been 6 months since we first met Buturo. Half of a year has already flown-by. Six months of delight, change, attachment, giggles, play, tears, learning, growth, silliness, adjustment and love. Lots and lots of love. This time has been so pure and simple. Jose and I often remark that it almost feels too good to be true. Can life really be this incredible? For 182 days we have delighted in our son, in his laugh, in his hugs, in his every expanding understanding of the world. We cherish these days because there are more challenging days on the horizon. That’s life. Things change, tough stuff happens. So each day we are grateful for these moments of sweetness. And we breathe them in, in hopes of collecting them for a time when joy may be harder to find.
First post-referral purchase, January 2009
November, 2009
Friday, November 20, 2009
Reason #3289
There are lots of reasons why I love Jose. He is a great friend, husband and father. He is funny and witty and smart. He knows lots about politics, football, current events and pop culture. But one of my most favorite thing about him is that he has a huge heart.
So here is reason #3289, installed in Kechene...
When we were in Ethiopia touring the government run orphanages, Jose spent at least an hour playing basketball with one of the girls on the concrete basketball/soccer area. At the end of the visit, he asked the in-country head of our agency if there was anything they needed. He discovered the older girls needed a copying machine so they could duplicate pages of academic materials. Jose pledged to help bring the copier to the girls. When we got home, Jose helped raise a big chunk of the money needed for it (while also figuring out fatherhood, moving across the country, leaving one job and starting another).
Sunday, November 15, 2009
road trip
This weekend Jose, Turo and I embarked on our first family road trip. We headed to Madison to catch the Wolverines play the Badgers. We debated the sanity of taking a toddler on a six hour one way car trip to watch football, but decided the potential fun was too much to resist. Here are some highlights of a great 36 hours:
- Twelve hours confined to a car provides a great opportunity for a wide range of discussion. Jose and I reflected on Ethiopia, pondered whether or not we wanted to include Santa in our holidays, processed some stuff, sang Row Row Row Your Boat in a round to Turo countless times, analyzed the likelihood of Michigan’s football coach keeping his job and played a rousing game of 20 questions at midnight to stay awake.
-Turo wooed Michigan and Wisonsin fans alike. He was greeted with many high-fives on our journey to the stadium and won over our very red section despite his maize and blue outfit.
-I loved watching Turo take in the game. He was very quiet for the first quarter. He sat on my lap and observed. By the time the band took the field at half-time, he was enthralled. He kept saying “more please” each time the band stopped in between songs. When the game resumed, he provided commentary like “throw” and “band.” It was like he was figuring it out during the initial quarter and once he understood what was happing he was eager to participate. He cheered, danced and sang along with the crowd (despite our protests that he was rooting for the wrong team).
- Madison is a great college town and it’s setting on a lake is lovely. We were impressed with the campus and the friendliness of the people (other than the drunk guy who almost steamrolled Turo on the way to the game.)
-Turo travels like a champ. He was only fussy a couple of times and overall he just rolled with it.
- It was nice to see that we can do pre-Turo-like stuff and with a few modifications still have a blast.
- Twelve hours confined to a car provides a great opportunity for a wide range of discussion. Jose and I reflected on Ethiopia, pondered whether or not we wanted to include Santa in our holidays, processed some stuff, sang Row Row Row Your Boat in a round to Turo countless times, analyzed the likelihood of Michigan’s football coach keeping his job and played a rousing game of 20 questions at midnight to stay awake.
-Turo wooed Michigan and Wisonsin fans alike. He was greeted with many high-fives on our journey to the stadium and won over our very red section despite his maize and blue outfit.
-I loved watching Turo take in the game. He was very quiet for the first quarter. He sat on my lap and observed. By the time the band took the field at half-time, he was enthralled. He kept saying “more please” each time the band stopped in between songs. When the game resumed, he provided commentary like “throw” and “band.” It was like he was figuring it out during the initial quarter and once he understood what was happing he was eager to participate. He cheered, danced and sang along with the crowd (despite our protests that he was rooting for the wrong team).
- Madison is a great college town and it’s setting on a lake is lovely. We were impressed with the campus and the friendliness of the people (other than the drunk guy who almost steamrolled Turo on the way to the game.)
-Turo travels like a champ. He was only fussy a couple of times and overall he just rolled with it.
- It was nice to see that we can do pre-Turo-like stuff and with a few modifications still have a blast.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Toddler Offsets
I try to be good to the environment. We recycle. I turn the water off while I brush my teeth. I bring my own bags to the grocery store (most of the time). I’m trying to buy more local food. But I’m not sure if these things compensate for the less than green toddler activities that occur in our house. Here is a list of some of the things for which I need to buy toddler offsets:
Diapers - In my dream world, I’d be using cloth diapers that I’d hang to dry in the sunshine. In reality, I use disposable ones. I’ve read about cloth diapering and I totally admire those who do it, but I haven’t quite gotten there. Maybe I just need to potty train Turo soon, to ease my guilt.
Coffee – Getting out of the car for a cup of coffee is work. Unbuckle the car seat, maneuver Turo out of the car, hold child while paying, try to keep toddler from running around while adding cream & sugar, carry coffee and child back to the car while trying not to spill scalding beverage on child, buckle him back up, hope he doesn’t have a tantrum about sitting in the car seat… See it’s a pain. So there have been days I have driven out of my way for drive-thru coffee. My favorite spot is a local place, so I’m at least supporting that, right?
Water – Turo loves playing in the sink. He likes to fill up his cup, spoon, bowl (or other receptacle dug out of a kitchen drawer) and then pour it into other cup, spoon, bowl. This keeps him very occupied, which allows me to do things like empty the dishwasher. He also enjoys flushing, which I try to limit, but he’s quick.
Mother Nature must have had her own toddlers and perhaps will overlook these transgressions. Just to keep her favor though, I guess I need to send a donation to Green Peace or the Sierra Club.
Diapers - In my dream world, I’d be using cloth diapers that I’d hang to dry in the sunshine. In reality, I use disposable ones. I’ve read about cloth diapering and I totally admire those who do it, but I haven’t quite gotten there. Maybe I just need to potty train Turo soon, to ease my guilt.
Coffee – Getting out of the car for a cup of coffee is work. Unbuckle the car seat, maneuver Turo out of the car, hold child while paying, try to keep toddler from running around while adding cream & sugar, carry coffee and child back to the car while trying not to spill scalding beverage on child, buckle him back up, hope he doesn’t have a tantrum about sitting in the car seat… See it’s a pain. So there have been days I have driven out of my way for drive-thru coffee. My favorite spot is a local place, so I’m at least supporting that, right?
Water – Turo loves playing in the sink. He likes to fill up his cup, spoon, bowl (or other receptacle dug out of a kitchen drawer) and then pour it into other cup, spoon, bowl. This keeps him very occupied, which allows me to do things like empty the dishwasher. He also enjoys flushing, which I try to limit, but he’s quick.
Mother Nature must have had her own toddlers and perhaps will overlook these transgressions. Just to keep her favor though, I guess I need to send a donation to Green Peace or the Sierra Club.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Early Bird
We've been up since 5:20. I'm not a morning person. I'm a sleep-until-it-is-nearly-the-afternoon person. Granted when I worked I had to be up bright and early, but I had about 90 minutes to myself before I had to interact with anyone. I had time to slowly wake-up, drink coffee and listen to NPR on my way to work. Now, when I hear a little voice call out "mama" from the other room, there is no snooze button. He is ready to get up and start his day. On mornings when he wakes up before seven, I bring him back to bed with me in hopes that he will doze a little longer. I have pleaded with him, rubbed his back, taught him "cuddle and cozy," offered him hundreds of dollars, and even said a few choice words under my breath. All of these are lost on him because he quickly slides down the side of bed, heads towards the door and urges me to "come-on." On these extra early days, I make pancakes or waffles as a way to compensate for the fact that is still dark. Today I attempted French toast. Maybe tomorrow he'll snuggle for an extra few minutes...
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
adoption
There is a wide spectrum of opinions related to adoption. From Jesus put it in my heart to adoption is child slavery, there are many ways to think about adoption. When we started the process, I had no idea there were so many different points of view. In my mind, adoption seemed like a win-win for everyone. Not only would we become a family and a child would gain a home, but the icing was that we would help make the world a little better.
As we became more entrenched in the paperwork, waiting and more waiting, we began to uncover varying perspectives of adoption. Jose and I had long talks over the ethics of what we were doing. We fretted over the legitimacy of it. Days before our second court date, Jose discovered a couple of discrepancies in our referral paperwork. We freaked out, called one of our agency’s head honchos on the weekend with our worries. As we waited for a return phone call, we discussed postponing our court date if our concerns weren’t properly addressed. We couldn’t justify bringing Buturo into our family if there was any doubt he hadn’t been legitimately relinquished by his first family. After an agonizing weekend of what-ifs, our agency cleared up the confusion and we proceeded with our court date. But it was a reminder of the seriousness of what we were doing.
Even in Ethiopia, with our son in our arms, we still were grappling with the complexity of our family’s origin. In order to bring our adopted children back to the U.S, families have to obtain visas for them. Most of the paperwork for this visa occurred months before in the U.S, but the final stamp of approval had to happen in Ethiopia. In order to receive Turo’s visa, we joined at least 30 other mostly white families and a sprinkling of Ethiopians in a non-descript room at the back of the Embassy compound. Looking around the room at all these American parents with their Ethiopian babies, I felt unsettled.
Individually our stories all made sense. Just like Turo, these babies had been relinquished due to some tragic situation. And just like us, each family had a compelling reason for wanting to adopt from Ethiopia.
But when you put us all together on a macro level, we were picking up our new children because of injustice, poverty and inequality. We were picking up our new children because we had money and their first families did not. Combined we probably paid over half a million dollars in fees to adopt (times how many other appointments a week?). What did this say about us? About our role in creating a marketplace for these children? Were we doing the right thing? What was the right thing anyway?
Walking to our visa interview, we had to pass a group of Ethiopians waiting for their appointments. I wondered what they thought of the parade of Americans going by with their black babies. I wanted to tell them, “I’m sorry this has happened. I promise to do right by this child. I promise he will know where he comes from. I will teach him about this amazing country’s culture and history. I promise to continue to give back to Ethiopia so this doesn’t have to happen for future children. I will treasure and love my son with all my heart.” After a couple of minutes of basic questions, we were approved to bring Turo into the U.S. I was relieved to get back in our van. Back to just being a new, happy family of three.
Our family’s narrative is not just: childless couple + orphan = family. Two years after those initial thoughts about adopting, my viewpoint on adoption has become more nuanced than the idealistic version I held at the beginning. I’m still trying to find a way to hold total joy and happiness alongside the tragic parts of our story. And as I parent Turo, I want to make sure that I give him the support and space to develop his own thoughts and feelings on his adoption (even the less rosy ones).
As we became more entrenched in the paperwork, waiting and more waiting, we began to uncover varying perspectives of adoption. Jose and I had long talks over the ethics of what we were doing. We fretted over the legitimacy of it. Days before our second court date, Jose discovered a couple of discrepancies in our referral paperwork. We freaked out, called one of our agency’s head honchos on the weekend with our worries. As we waited for a return phone call, we discussed postponing our court date if our concerns weren’t properly addressed. We couldn’t justify bringing Buturo into our family if there was any doubt he hadn’t been legitimately relinquished by his first family. After an agonizing weekend of what-ifs, our agency cleared up the confusion and we proceeded with our court date. But it was a reminder of the seriousness of what we were doing.
Even in Ethiopia, with our son in our arms, we still were grappling with the complexity of our family’s origin. In order to bring our adopted children back to the U.S, families have to obtain visas for them. Most of the paperwork for this visa occurred months before in the U.S, but the final stamp of approval had to happen in Ethiopia. In order to receive Turo’s visa, we joined at least 30 other mostly white families and a sprinkling of Ethiopians in a non-descript room at the back of the Embassy compound. Looking around the room at all these American parents with their Ethiopian babies, I felt unsettled.
Individually our stories all made sense. Just like Turo, these babies had been relinquished due to some tragic situation. And just like us, each family had a compelling reason for wanting to adopt from Ethiopia.
But when you put us all together on a macro level, we were picking up our new children because of injustice, poverty and inequality. We were picking up our new children because we had money and their first families did not. Combined we probably paid over half a million dollars in fees to adopt (times how many other appointments a week?). What did this say about us? About our role in creating a marketplace for these children? Were we doing the right thing? What was the right thing anyway?
Walking to our visa interview, we had to pass a group of Ethiopians waiting for their appointments. I wondered what they thought of the parade of Americans going by with their black babies. I wanted to tell them, “I’m sorry this has happened. I promise to do right by this child. I promise he will know where he comes from. I will teach him about this amazing country’s culture and history. I promise to continue to give back to Ethiopia so this doesn’t have to happen for future children. I will treasure and love my son with all my heart.” After a couple of minutes of basic questions, we were approved to bring Turo into the U.S. I was relieved to get back in our van. Back to just being a new, happy family of three.
Our family’s narrative is not just: childless couple + orphan = family. Two years after those initial thoughts about adopting, my viewpoint on adoption has become more nuanced than the idealistic version I held at the beginning. I’m still trying to find a way to hold total joy and happiness alongside the tragic parts of our story. And as I parent Turo, I want to make sure that I give him the support and space to develop his own thoughts and feelings on his adoption (even the less rosy ones).
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