Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Last August, when we brought Meazi and Melese home to America, Meazi continually spoke the words ‘lijoch’ (Amharic for children), and ‘school’. School was one of a handful of English words that Meazi knew. Meazi had experienced huge losses, was unable to communicate her needs to us, and was very, very, scared. We hadn’t expected to put her in school right away. Her paperwork said she was two, and we figured we had plenty of time to think about school after she had been home with us for a while. Upon meeting her in Ethiopia it was clear that she was older. Her requests for ‘school’ were constant and emphatic. Dr. D, another first responder, saw what we saw, and managed to enroll her in your four-year old classroom with a two-year olds birth certificate. It has been, to date, the best decision we have made for Meazi. The four of you have made a huge difference in Meazi’s life. We are forever grateful.
Like every other parent of a Pre-k’er in room 11, we are thrilled that Meazi knows that bats are nocturnal, that pumpkins decompose, and that dinosaurs are oviparous; more than that though, we are so thankful that you L, M, T, and L were there to tend to wounds, to speak words of comfort, and to even restart a heart.
Meazi on her first day of school...
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Meazi and Melese came to us with grief. Steven and I have had losses of our own. Moses, (and I realize he is a dog, and that this is a lucky, privileged, women's lament), was the first loss we shared together. It's like we took a black sharpie pen to our family's growth chart, and added a new marker.
On the day following the evening of the sadness, we knew we would have to do something fun and life affirming for the kids. Steven went into work late. After breakfast, the four of us went to the hospital where we were lucky enough to meet two new friends.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Saturday, June 19, 2010
They are cute little books. We have taken dozens of them out from the library.
I was going to post everything she wrote, but I think I'll just keep it between them.
Friday, June 18, 2010
Moses is nearing the end of his life. It is clear that we are soon going to have to put him down. Steven is ravaged by severe stomach cramps, which I am pretty sure are caused by this sad truth. I am so grateful that these children got to meet our dogs. The cancer vets predicted they would both die years ago. Their lives have not been as much fun since they have been demoted to dog status. They are not invited to co-sleep, and the daily walk is long gone. So we hug them, and we wait for Moses to tell us when he is ready. He is still eating, and wagging, and rolling in the grass, so we know it is not today. But it will be soon. Steven wants the whole family there when we have the vet come to the house. At first I thought that this was a terrible idea. Now, I am not so sure. What is the alternative? Take the kids to the park, and when they come home say, "Moses has died"? These kids know about death. They have seen it firsthand. It seems unfair to come up with something other than pure honesty in this situation. It seems like they should be there with us. I don't know. I am willing to listen to advice on this one. Anonymous comments are still open, despite the fact that I have to delete about a dozen comments a day from the Japanese bathhouse site.
Meazi graduated from Pre-k. My mom came out for a week. I always feel sad when I take my mom to the airport. She is so great with the kids, and they love her so much. Melsese stayed with her for a half an hour without me. He didn't cry. This is huge.
Meazi continues to amaze me. She is so smart. She has an incredible sense of humor. Everyone loves her. Why then am I filled with anxiety about what kinds of things she'll face in the future? I think most of you know through Facebook about the, "Only blond kids on the slide!" incident at our local park. I think I may have overreacted, and perhaps it wasn't racism, but I am wondering how on earth I will ever protect these children from all or the perils that lie ahead. Is it possible that my childless depression has been replaced by pure anxiety? Not good. Am I the only one who feels this much anxiety about her children?
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Sometimes a plea you send into the universe is answered. Every time Mama Dog posts something on her blog, I think, "I wish I could read more of her words." This woman makes an article about Sandra Bullock sound like poetry. She is amazing. I can't wait to devour her first novel. You can order it here.
Next (or maybe even simultaneously):
Theresa and Julia have put together a great blog for families like ours. I am not sure how much time I'll get to participate, but I am really loving the dialogue over there. Join us.
One of my favorite writers.
Written by the father of one of our Ethiopian buddies.
Then, if time permits, I'd really like to read this....
Jillian also adopted a child from Ethiopia through CHSFS, and like me she went to NYU to study acting. Unlike me, she dropped out and joined a harem. Wowza. She also has a blog. At first glance you might hate her ( beautiful, wildly successful, smart, married to a rock star) but she is actually lovely in person, and you can't help but root for her.
Think I can read all of that?
The other day Meazi had a dream that Todd Parr was her father. I wonder if it is possible for a kid to read too much? Melese still loves this, and squeals on page five when the pup rolls in the mud.
What are you reading this summer?