Amharic to America

Whistling tunes we're kissing baboons in the jungle

2012-01-04T10:44:00.000-08:00

All you Peter Gabriel fans recognize that line.

So here we are in lovely Arba Minch, Ethiopia, enjoying an afternoon siesta in our bungalow. Emmy is on the front porch, humming softly to herself, and enjoying the bright Africa sunshine while Colleen lounges on the bed with the front door open so she can keep an eye on Emmy.

Emmy casually turns to look at her right, leaps to her feet, sprints into the bungalow, slams the door behind her, and braces the door.

Colleen, alarmed now, bolted from bed and asked Emmy what is wrong. Emmy responded, cool as a cucumber "Mommy, get a camera because nobody will believe me."

Colleen looked out the window to see an adult Baboon enjoying fresh flowers from the garden no more than 15 feet from where Emmy had been sitting.

We almost vomited with the thought of what a baboon could have done to little Emmy. We notified the park ranger who told us the reason the baboon did not bother Emmy is because she did not have any food with her. What a miracle, because the kid is always snacking on something.

Meds

2012-01-04T10:40:00.000-08:00

Before we left for Ethiopia, Emmy had a lot of congestion and sinus issues. Colleen was using different OTC meds to clear her up before we had to fly.

One night Colleen had given Emmy the usual regimen and then remembered "Oh, yeah! I wanted to try this new one! I'll go get it."

While Colleen was downstairs, Emmy leaped into my arms in a full blown terror panic. "No Daddy. Don't let Mama touch me. I don't want her medicine. Don't let Mama touch me. Promise you won't"

The poor kid was sobbing and trembling. When I finally got her calm enough so she could speak coherently, I asked Emmy why she was so afraid.

"You know why, Daddy. This is just like they did to Micheal Jackson! Too many medicines!"

Death in the Family

2011-06-02T11:27:00.000-07:00

We lost my Aunt Joy this week, the first death in the family since the kids arrived home. We had long emotional discussions about death, heaven, funerals, etc. The kids decided they could write notes (actually little books) to their parents in heaven and have Aunt Joy deliver the notes to their parents. The notes are adorable and heartbreaking. We want to keep them for the kids 'lifebooks', but we are afraid they will feel betrayed if they later learn we did not put the letters in Aunt Joy's coffin for delivery to heaven.

Here is Emmy's:

Dear Mom and Dad. I miss you. I was crying cause you died. I will miss you. I wish I could celebrate your birthday. I love you. I hope you like heaven (drawing of heaven). You will be in my heart always (drawing of heart). I have wonderful cousins and uncles and aunts that love me (drawing of peace). My favorite things is math (drawing of Emmy in school). Love Emmy and Emnet

Here is Marin's:
Dear Mom and Dad. I miss you and I love you. My favorite sports are soccer and basketball (drawing of two balls labelled soccer and basketball). My favorite food is injera and fruit (drawing of injera and fruit). My favorite subject is math and reading (drawing of two schoolbooks labelled math and reading). My favorite teacher was Mrs. Cohen (drawing of Marin and Mrs. Cohen). I have good parents in America. I have a good family in America and a new baby cousin (drawing of family). Here are my new parents and me and Emmy (photo of us pasted in). Love Marin and Meron

April Fools Day

2011-04-01T10:51:00.000-07:00

So proud of Marin. She has been planning this elaborate trick for weeks and pulled it off like a champ today. About 4 weeks ago, while driving in the car............... Marin: Daddy, when is April Fools Day Me: About a month, why? Marin: I know what I want to do for a trick and I need you to help me, but you have to promise not tell anybody. Me: OK, what Marin: I want to break my leg. Just pretend, though. I need you to get me some crutches. So I make a few phone calls, find a leftover pair of kids crutches, and I dug up one of my leg immobilizers from when I used to be a jock. Voila. April Fools trick. So Marin hobbles into day care this morning (schools were closed for snow) and starts hamming it up. I knew she got the caretakers because they suddenly started arguing over who would get to stay inside with Marin while all the other kids went out to play in the snow. Marin looked at me in disbelief at how easy it was to trick people. She had a grin a mile wide. Finally, Marin holds the crutches up in the air and yells "April Fools!!!". Then one teacher said "No, it isn't. You have a temporary cast. You can't just go get one of those anywhere" She still believed!! Marin face expression was "Crap, now what do I do. This dumb teacher doesn't even believe that I tricked her."

Tooth Fairy

2011-04-01T10:44:00.000-07:00

Emmy lost her first tooth. And she demanded compensation. This created a little rift in the children's bedrrom because, you might remember, Marin had written the tooth fairy a letter asking him (her, whatever) never to visit because Marin did not want strangers walking around her bed at night while she sleeps. Emmy solved that by assuring Marin the tooth fairy would enter and exit via the window on Emmy's side of the room. Problem solved. Next morning Emmy is describing the tooth fairy. The fairy is a her. And the tooth fairy is so small, only about the size of Emmy's thumb, that she could not lift the money out of her purse. So the fairy woke Emmy up and asked Emmy to help her. Then they shared a girl scout cookie together and exchanged email addresses. (toothfairy@yahoo.com if you're interested) Marin just sits there listening, nodding her head, and finally says "Emmy, I don't believe you. Because if you really helped the tooth fairy lift the money out of her purse you would have taken all the money, not just a quarter."

For Christ's Sake

2011-01-05T08:01:00.000-08:00

Can I rant a little here?

I am not a religious person. I am spiritual in that I believe there is a greater purpose, there is karma, I embrace the core virtues of most faiths, I believe in justice and I try to live a righteous life. On the other hand, I am a sporadic church goer and I am dismissive of attack dogs who insist their religion is the only acceptable religion.

Because of all the questions and anxiety our children have around death, afterlife, and heaven, we recently started to re-establish a family church going habit. We picked a small UCC church in our hometown that has a good music program and some kids that our kids go to school with.

It's only been a few weeks, but so far so good. The people are nice, the church does interesting missions, and our kids are enjoying the Sunday School. I actually like the Sunday School lessons. For example, Marin's lesson last week was about Noah having to budget, count money, and make change when buying food for the animals on the ark. So it combines bible stories with practical skills. A nice balance that even an agnostic could appreciate.

Fast forward to this morning as we are driving to school.

Emmy: Me and Delana were talking about Sunday School.
Marin: When?
Emmy: Yesterday on the playground.
Marin: You can't do that Emmy. It's against the rules.
Emmy: No it's not.
Marin. Yes. My teacher said. No talking about Christians in school. It's against the law and you will get sent to the Principals office. Right Daddy?
Me: thinking (What the eff? Now what are these knuckleheads talking about?)
Marin: Daddy. Tell Emmy it's against the law. I know it is. All my teachers told me that. And Brady got a red card for talking about Christmas because maybe some kids don't have Christmas.

As if my kids don't have enough 'fitting in' issues to stress about, now they think it's against the law to talk about what they do on Sunday mornings and the can't talk about Christmas.

So it's OK for the Islamic women to wear their full headress at the airport, in the bank teller line, and other places where being incognito presents genuine safety risks - but kids are frightened to talk about Sunday School on the playground and the school goes to DEFCON 5 if someone mentions Christmas.

I have half a mind to phone this in to Rush and Beck.

opposite man

2010-12-30T05:22:00.000-08:00

Santa brought the kids a Wii this year. After a couple of days of demonstrating my incompetence at modern electronics, I finally got the darn thing working. (bonus points - I did not have to buy a new TV for it. We used the TV my brother gave us for a wedding gift 20 years ago- YES!!)

Anyway, one of the first things you have to do is design your Avatar (I'm sure most of you already knew that). Marin designed a beautiful brown skinned avatar for herslef. Then Emmy designed a beautiful brown skinned avatar with big blue eye shadow and big red lips. It was hilarious. Then I designed my avatar to look like me. The kids said "No, make him taller.", then "No, make him skinnier." Finally, I was about to hit the save button, and both kids looked at me, drop dead serious, and said, at the same time "Daddy, aren't you going to make him brown skin like us?"

So here I am - opposite man. A short, fat, bald, white guy with a tall, thin, brown, hairy avatar.

Blue Christmas

2010-12-28T19:27:00.001-08:00

Blue was my family's Christmas colour when I was young. Grandmother's tree was trimmed totally in blue lights. My grandparents' parlor in which we trimmed the tree and exchanged gifts had blue carpet and blue wall paper. Elvis' Blue Christmas was the family Christmas carol. Most of the gift wrap was blue. And on and on.

Fast forward to a few weeks ago we are at the florist choosing a wreath for my mothers' grave. (reminder that we had a stone carved for our childrens' birth parents and placed it next to my mothers' stone) We asked the kids if they wanted to choose the wreath because it was for their parents, too. Out of hundreds of wreaths, what do they choose? A beautiful wreath made of blue spruce, decorated with blue ornaments, and a large blue and silver bow. It made a lump in my throat.

Unfortunately, the wreath also set off a two week period of mourning, especially for Emmy. She cried herself to sleep every night and woke up crying each morning. She wanted to know why we had not taken her African parents to America so we could all live together (they are deceased). And why we did not pay for doctors to save her parents. And its' not fair that other kids get to see their Moms and Dads at Christmas by Emmy does not. Emmy asks the deepest most heart breaking questions about sickness, death, afterlife, heaven, and so on. It was a truly blue Christmas.

Conflicted

2010-12-28T19:21:00.000-08:00

The kids are really self conscious lately about being brown. Marin always wears long warm ups (instead of gym shorts) to basketball and to indoor soccer. She says it is because she wants to cover her brown skin. I told her the kids can still see her face. Instead of helping her understand how irrational she was, it just bummed her out. Then I felt even worse.

Last night Emmy and I were snuggling before she went to bed. She pulled my head under the covers with her and whispered " I don't like my brown skin. When I go back to school I am going to cover my whole face with a white permanent marker. "

We are constantly telling our kids how beautiful their skin is (it really is), and how much we love it (we really do), and we kiss them all the time and we tell them white people spend all their money going to tanning booths so they can have beautiful brown skin. It isn't working. Suggestions welcomed.

Whooopieeee

2010-12-28T19:15:00.000-08:00

I took the kids to one of those arcades that spits out tickets and then you use the tickets to claim a crummy prize. I know, total ripoff, but the kids had a ball. What do they choose for prizes? Whoopie cushions.

I gotta hand it to my kids. Instead of just farting and giggling like juveniles, my kids created little skits incorporating the whoopie cushions. For example

1. Excuse me. I'd like to speak to the members of the town council. You're all a bunch of ............................

2. Good afternoon. This is Barak Obama and I want to talk to you about ..........................

3. Good morning. This is Dr. Rhoads (school principal) and I want to tell you.......................... Wait, was that you Miss Maggie (school secretery)?

I had to pull the car off the road I was laughing so hysterically. My stomach was cramping and I was crying.

Google it

2010-12-02T17:19:00.000-08:00

So here we are, watching the Christmas special "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" on TV. The kids are watching intently, trying to figure out exactly how all this happened. Finally Marin says "Daddy, Google where did Santa come from".

American History Museum

2010-12-02T17:14:00.001-08:00

We all went to DC for Thanksgiving. Like any family with kids knows, you have to get a hotel with a pool in it. So there are the kids in the pool, making friends with another little girl about Marin's age. You just never know where these new friendships are going to go.

Marin: Where are you from?
Friend: Georgia. Where are you from?
Marin: Ethiopia.
Friend: What? Is that in Africa?
Marin: (encouraged) Yes!
Friend: Wow, you are so lucky you got out of there. If you lived there a few years ago you would have been a slave!
Marin: What?
Friend: You know, a slave. Where white people beat you and make you work and buy you and sell you and you can't go to school or have friends or anything
Friends Mom (as alarmed as I am and trying to recover) No sweetheart, that was a long time ago and it doesn't happen anymore. Your new friend has nothing to worry about.

We spend the next three days reassuring Marin that she will not become a slave.

This is my house??

2010-09-07T07:44:00.000-07:00

Over the weekend Marin and I were enjoying a quiet breakfast. She had this peaceful, confortable, satisfied expression on her face. I asked her what she was thinking about.

Marin: I can't believe this is really my house.
Me: What do you mean?
Marin: I just can't believe it.
Me: I still don't know what you mean.
Marin: It is so different from my house in Ethiopia.
Me: Tell me about your house in Ethiopia
Marin: It was like a three little pigs house made from pieces of wood and grass and leaves
Me: What else do you remember?
Marin: It had a hole for a door. Not a door that you can close or lock. Just a hole in the wall that you can walk through. And it had windows. Not with glass or curtains, but a hole in the wall so the air and the light can come in.
Me: Do you remember anything else?
Marin: It was pretty tall inside. I could not reach the ceiling. Sometimes it was really quiet and peaceful. Other times it was really noisy, like when the chickens and the goats wanted to come inside.
Me: Do you remember anything else?
Marin: I remember the smell. Our house today always smells clean like the stuff under the sink. My other house smelled like outside. Mostly dusty and like grass, and sometimes like smoke if the Mamas were cooking.
Me: Do you miss your other house?
Marin: No. I like this house. But I hope I can see my other house again some day.

Amharican Chop Suey

2010-09-02T09:58:00.000-07:00

OK, I invented this myself, so I'm pretty psyched about it.

In the grocery store I saw a box of german dumplings (spaetzel) and it had a photo of beef stroganoff on it. That was one of my Mom's best home made dishes when I was a kid and it brought back a flood of memories, so I bought the spaetzel.

I get home, and remember no one else in my family likes sour cream, or gravy, or mushrooms - three important ingredients in stroganoff. Now what? Ta da! Amharican Chop Suey!!

1. Boil the spaetzel per directions on the package until plump and tender. Then drain.
2. Add about 1 lb of cooked meat (ground beef, or ground turkey, or ground pork, or shaved steak (like in a cheesesteak sandwich)) I used shaved steak.
3. Add one or two cans of spicy tomatoes. I used Hunts chili ready tomatoes.
4. Add spices. I used a little cumin and a little berbere.
5. Toss ingredients until blended thoroughly.
6. Serve piping hot in a big deep pasta bowl.

For vegetarian use peas, green beans, carrots, eggplant, zucini, broccoli, cauliflower, cabbage, tofu, etc instead of meat.

DEEEEEEELISH!!!!

Tool time

2010-08-29T01:43:00.001-07:00

Obviously, the kids are spending a lot of time with their handyman grandfather and homebuilder Uncle David. Yesterday the kids were in the yard pounding a couple of pieces of wood with a couple of different rocks.

Me: What are you doing?
Them: Building a strong fairy house.
Me: Strong?
Them: You know, so it won't blow down in the winter.
Marin to Emmy: Get me that special rock.
(Emmy hands Marin a rock)
Marin: No. That's a regular rock. I need a Phillips rock.

Cheater

2010-08-20T19:36:00.000-07:00

I was away on business recently and called the kids around bedtime to say goodnight. Emmy was very curious about where I was and what I was doing.

Emmy: Where are you?

Me: In Chicago in my hotel

Emmy: No, exactly where are you? Are you in your bed?

Me: Yes

Emmy: Is you bed bigger than Mama's bed?

Me: Yes

Emmy: Who is with you?

Me: Karen.

Emmy: Do I know her?

Me: No

Emmy: She's with you in Chicago?

Me: Yes.

Emmy: In the same hotel?

Me: Yes

Emmy: (in a hushed secretive tone) Daddy. Does Mama know about this?

Me: Emmy. It's a business trip. Karen is about business.

Emmy: Oh. Goodness. I though you and Mama broked up and you forgot to tell Mama.

This is the job of a parent

2010-08-12T11:41:00.000-07:00

We are spending this week with a family that recently adopted a wheelchair bound child. Great kid, great attitude, great family. The reason for my post is the way the Mom handles well intentioned people.

For example, I found myself wanting to help this kid at every turn. You know, wheel him around, lift him, get him water, whatever. His Mom was constantly reprimanding me (and others) to let him do it himself.

Finally, I gave her this exasperated look. Whereupon she oulled me aside and gave me 'the talk'.

"Listen, I know you mean well. But someday I won't be here to fend for him. My most important job is to prepare him for that day. That means teaching him how to do things for himself and then giving him the room to do it for himself so he can gain confidence and become a problem solver. I know it is hard to watch. I am always catching myself about to jump up and help him. But, trust me on this, every time you do something for him that he can do himself or should be able to do himself, then you are destroying his future. And I know you would not want to be complicit in destroying his future."

Wow. That is one smart parent. When you look at the thousands of spoiled brats walking around today, don't you wish they had a mother like this mother?

Fresh Air

2010-08-02T06:30:00.000-07:00

Last weekend we had an awesome camping event in NH with about 15 other Eth families. Swimming, fishing, ball games, hay rides, carnival games, campfires, etc. It was a ball!

This campground is quite large and has a number of full season residents - seems like mostly retirees and empty nesters. They were very friendly - too friendly. Telling us how wonderful we are, how kind, generous, etc. I thought "That's weird, why would anyone say that to a perfect stranger?"

Then it occurred to me, these other campers think that our families are hosting"Fresh Air Kids" (see www.freshair.org) and we're so nice to take them out of the ghetto for a weekend in NH. I took this little theory back to a couple of other parents and they said I was crazy.

Sunday Morning. Lovely, sunny, mild breeze, I am walking on one of the campground roads and a couple of older women stop me to talk:

Them: We just think its' so wonderful what you all are doing.
Me: Thanks.
Them: How did you get involved in this?
Me: Well, we did some research online and met with some other families to ask them about it.
Them: That's all?
Me: Oh no, that was just the start. Then we had to do background checks, home inspections, a financial review, job verifications, references, all kinds of stuff.
Them: Wow, all that for just a few weeks?
Me: Huh?
Them: I mean, you only have these kids for a week or two, right?
Me: Why do you think that?
Them: Aren't you all the Fresh Air program or something similar?
Me: Oh, OK. No, all of these children are our children adopted from Ethiopia.
Them: Really? All those kids are adopted?
Me: Well, not the white ones. Those are birth children. But all the brown ones are adopted from Ethiopia - many of them from the same orphanage - which is why we arrange to have them see each other every now and then.

Race Relations

2010-07-30T06:24:00.000-07:00

Nto sure what is going on with Marin, but she is peppering me with questions about Rosa Parks and Martin Luther King. Basically, what was going on with white skinned people to the extent that Rosa and Martin had to do what they did.

I explained it in the context of bullies. You know, the white skinned people used to bully the brown skinned people until the brown skinned people decided to not take it anymore and the brown skinned people got all the rules changed so no more bullies are allowed.

Marin understood that, then asked why the bullies still happen.

Me: It doesn't happen much anymore, Marin. The while skinned people and the brown skinned people get along now. Look at how many white skinned people love you and Emmy.
Marin: Only in my family.
Me: What are you talking about?
Marin: Not at school. It's not like that at school.
Me: What do you mean?
Marin: Well, on the last day of school, a lot of kids come up to me and said "I didn't like you at the beginning of school because you had brown skin and I thought it was gross, but I like you now."
Me: Seriously? Who said that?
Marin: Everybody except Molly and Vee.
Me: speechless

So here I am thinking everything was great at school. Marin loves school. She actually is bummed when she has school vacation. She seldom shows signs of being bullied. I am not sure what to do with this.

Mother Daughter Dance

2010-07-30T06:17:00.001-07:00

Marin and Emmy were supposed to run in their first track meet last week. Just the relays, but I was really excited about watching them. Alas, my car battery dies and I cannot get there. Colleen volunteers to pick up the kids and take them to the meet.

I get a phone all. The kids will not get out of the car at the meet. They claim the crowd is too big, it is scaring them, they think its a bad idea. And they are inches away from a meltdown. I tell Colleen to abort and take the kids home. She does.

Later that evening, I take Marin to the high school for her field hockey clinic and the track meet is still going on. I suggest that Marin and I go watch for a little so she can see a real meet and not be so scared next time. She agrees.

So there we are, standing at the rail, right where the relay baton handoffs occur. I explain to Marin what is happening and she is nodding her head and smiling. She sees some of her friends run the relays and she cheers for them.

Me: So Marin, do you understand what is happening here?
Marin: Yes.
Me: It looks like fun doesn't it?
Marin: Yes
Me: You could do this
Marin: I know
Me: You could have won a ribbon on the relay team
Marin: I know
Me: So what went wrong? I thought we had you all ready to race today?
Marin (shaking head wearily) Daddy, you just don't understand. Sometimes Mama brings out the worst in me.

Seize the moment

2010-07-21T05:35:00.000-07:00

Marin has field hockey practice in the evening this week. Last evening, I decided to leave her at practice and go run some errands. When I returned, there were no players on the field. After a mad scramble, I learned there had been lightning sighted nearby, the coaches cleared the field, and had the kids all sitting in a van on low ground.

As I approach the van, I see Marin sitting in a folding chair, arms crossed, big pout, and ugly look on her face.

Me: Hi Sweetie. Are you OK?
Marin: No
Me: What's the matter?
Marin: I've told you I need my own cell phone for situations just like this one. But you don't listen to me. What if my coach had to leave? I would be here all alone. How can you do that to a little kid? It is too dangerous for me to be out here with no cell phone.

Wow. She ripped that off like she had been rehearsing it for months and just waiting for the perfect moment to serve it up.

The Lonely Goatherd

2010-07-20T10:08:00.000-07:00

We were at a large Eth gathering earlier this month and some of the children were recent arrivals. One little boy, who came from a family of goatherders, was picking up the pet cats and dogs by their ankles, slinging them up over his shoulders, and carrying them around the yard draped across the back of his neck and shoulders. Another little boy watched while his mother patted a goat. The mother said "Oh, isn't he a cute goat!" to which the boy responded "When are we going to eat him?"

The Great Debater

2010-07-15T07:50:00.000-07:00

We're working with our kids to make good decisions about needs vs. wants. You know, so when they say they really need an iPod, we can counter with "No, you really need food and water, but an iPod is a want" kind of thing.

Apparently, Emmy, our five year old, was paying close attention. It is my habit to be in my office on Sunday mornings from about 4AM to 8AM. It's my quiet time to think clearly about strategic questions, tie up loose ends from the week before, and plan the coming week. Last weekend, about 7:30, my cell phone rings.

Emmy: Daddy, I want breakfast. Where are you?
Me: Emmy, I'm at work.
Emmy: Why are you at work. Today is a no school day.
Me: I have to, buddy.
Emmy: You have to?
Me: yes
Emmy: Is anybody else at work?
Me: No
Emmy: Did your boss make you work today?
Me: No
Emmy: Oh, so you want to work?
Me: Huh?
Emmy: You don't have to work, Daddy. You want to work. It's not a need. It's a want.
Colleen: (in the background laughing hilariously)

speechless in sebago

2010-07-09T18:42:00.000-07:00

So there we are at the playground. There was another little boy about Marin's age and the kids started playing with him. He starts doing the 'eeny meeny miny mo' rhyme and goes with the 'catch a nigger by the toe' version. You know, it's Maine. I'm not gonna lie. Me and my friends used to say that all the time in elementary school. There were no blacks in our school. But it's been about a hundred years since I heard a kid say 'nigger' so I just kind of stood there hoping the moment would blow by. No.

Marin: Daddy, what's nigger mean?
Me: (crap - trying to buy time because I had not previewed this situation in my head) Marin, I'm not sure, let me think about it.
Marin: you know Daddy, tell me the truth

Parents of Ethiopians know that these kids don't come with the baggage of slavery and discrimination that many black Americans grew up with. Eth kids can't get their heads around it because where they come from, brown skinned people are all up and down the social and economic ladder and there is are no white skinned people to practice discrimination. Back to the playground.

Me: (to the little boy) Do you know what a nigger is? (hoping he doesn't)
Boy: Yes. You're one (pointing at Marin)
Marin: What is he talking about?

By this time, the boy's mother can see he is getting uncomfortable so she walks over (after snuffing out her cigarette, shutting off her iPhone, and dumping out her beer - OK I made up the beer part).

Mom: What's wrong honey?
Boy: This man is asking me questions.
Mom: Why are you bothering him?
Me: I'm not. Did you hear what he said?
Mom: I did.
Me: Can you help me out here?
Mom: You leave my son alone.
Me: I will, I am just wondering how I should explain this to my kids. Can you help me?
Mom: Listen buddy, if you can't solve your own problems, maybe you shouldn't have kids. (grabs son by elbow and walks away)

So, I guess I got told by the white trash Mom. I actually felt a little bad for the kid. He recognized he had said something inappropriate, but he could not figure out what it was or why. I imagine this word gets used regularly around his house and he is insensitive to it. His Mom is obviously not going to inform him.

I guess I should feel fortunate it took us 3.5 years to encounter the N word. I still have not told Marin what it means. Any ideas re how to address this?

The Sudan

2010-06-28T07:49:00.001-07:00

So there we are, wandering through the produce aisle, and Marin spies a couple of tall dark women dressed in the really colorful traditional African dress and headscarf. Marin laser locks on these women and insists on talking to them.

Turns out they are from Sudan, but when they learned Marin was Ethiopian, they said they were from Addis. So I asked "Wait a minute, I thought you just said you were from The Sudan?" (and, by the way, they looked way more Sudanese in appearance than Ethiopian) Big mistake my asking. Now we get the whole Sudanese refugee story.

The women speak: "We are from Sudan, but conditions there are terrible terrible. Soldiers are killing our families, burning our houses, and stealing our livestock. There is no jobs, no food, no water. This women here, my sister, and me, we packed our belongings on a donkey and walked to Ethiopia. We can travel only at night to avoid the soldiers, but we can travel only in daylight to avoid the lions and hyenas. It is very dangerous. Many of us were lost. Once inside Ethiopia, we found a bus ride to Addis. Once inside Addis, we must do unspeakable things to earn money to go to London and then to America. " And on and on and on.

Normally, I would be fascinated and heartbroken by such a life history and would have invited these women someplace for dinner to get the time to hear all the details. But in front of Marin? Shheeeesh. I could see her little head about to explode. So now we are in the car. Marin..........

"Why did soldiers burn them house down?"
" What did they eat when they walked a long time?"
" What does the word unspeakable mean?"
" What did they do that is unspeakable?"
"Daddy, tell me the truth, is this what really happened to me and Emmy?"
" Were we in Sudan and had to walk to Ethiopia before you found us?"
" Daddy, did the soldiers have guns or knives?"
" Did they hurt kids or just grown ups?"

And about a million more questions. I am exhausted.

Focus

2010-06-23T07:41:00.000-07:00

So there we are, Marin's first track practice.

The coach asks the kids to run at medium speed twice around the track to warm up. Marin is walking.

The coach divides the kids into relay teams of about 20 runners each, and tells the kids to sit down after they have run to help her keep track of who has run and who has not. Marin, about 5th in line, casually looks around, sneaks her way to the back of the line, and sits down before having a turn at running.

At water break time, I ask Marin if she is having fun.
Marin: An enthusiastic "Yes, Daddy! I love this track game!"
Me: Then why aren't you running?
Marin: Huh? I'm running really hard.
Me: Marin. I watched you. You walked while the other kids ran and you sat while the other kids raced.
Marin: Really, you were watching me?
Me: Yes. So what is it you love about this track game?
Marin: (looks around carefully, leans in, and whispers) I get to talk to all the boys.

Thinking quickly, I informed Marin that boys like girls who run fast. The faster the girl, the more the boy likes her. Marin looked cynical. Thankfully, one of the Mothers had overheard the entire conversation and piped in "Oh yes, Marin. I learned in third grade that boys like girls who run fast and I started practicing my fast running and always had lots of boyfriends."

Well, that was all Marin needed to hear. She burst back on to the track and instantly became the Usain Bolt of third grade!

Determined

2010-06-22T20:26:00.000-07:00

Emmy's newest weapon of tantrum is to threaten to kill herself.

So there we are in the kitchen, she asked for something ridiculous (I honestly don't remember what it was) and I said no or not yet.

Emmy: That's it. I'm really going to kill myself now.
Me: No you're not. I'll miss you too much and I love you too much. And Mama will cry.
Emmy: Yes. I'm going to sit in the road and wait for a car to run me over.
Me: Emmy. The car will see you and stop.
Emmy: Oh. Then I have another trick.
Me: Emmy, please just stay here with us.
Emmy: I'm going to wait for the leaves to fall from the trees and the hunters come. Then I'll go in the woods and pretend I'm a deer and they will shoot me.
Me: Emmy. How do you pretend to be a deer?
Emmy: I'll put on a big red nose from the dollar store and walk like this (prancing leaping motion) and go 'beep! beep! beep!"

(I think she was trying to be Rudolph the reindeer)

Dear God. OK - I know she's goofing, but at what age do we have to start taking these conversations seriously?

Lighten up on the Sarcasm

2010-06-10T06:46:00.000-07:00

This morning Marin came down to breakfast in a foul mood.

Me: "Marin, why are you so upset?"
Marin: "Mama said 'Ooohhh, you're hair looks soooo nice today'.
Me: "Why is that upsetting? Mama is telling you how pretty you are."
Marin: "No, Daddy. Her words were nice, but her tone was mean. She wasn't telling me the truth. She was teasing me. Grown ups do that all the time. They think they are tricking kids but we no for real when they are being mean."

Wow. That was a mouthful. Even though Colleen was being sincere (I learned afterward), the fact that Marin faces sarcasm so often, and has now caught on to it, has compromised her ability to differentiate sincerity from sarcasm. I am really bummed by this. Colleen and I took the anti-sarcasm pledge. The most difficult challenge will be another close relative - who has a highly acid tongue even when she is being sweet.

Decisions Decisions

2010-06-08T05:06:00.000-07:00

So there we are at the voting booth and there is a giant candy dish. Emmy stares at me with this pleading look in here eyes. "OK, Emmy, but just one piece." She took a peanut butter cup.

Fast forward ten minutes I am getting ready to drop Emmy off at daycare.

"Daddy, I want to take this inside. No wait, then I will have to share it with everybody."

"Daddy, I want to leave it in the car and eat it tonight after dinner. No wait, it might melt in the car."

"Daddy, I want you to hold it for me. No wait, you might eat it first."

Then Emmy plops down in the middle of the daycare parking lot and starts sobbing. She can't figure out what to do with her peanut butter cup. Finally I said, Emmy, why don't we go sit on the bench for a minute, I'll unwrap this for you and you can eat it now.

"Really, I can eat candy this early in the morning?" She sat down, ate the candy, licked her fingers, looked up at me with a big smile and said "You know, Mama's gonna kill you for this."

My pee is red!

2010-06-06T15:22:00.000-07:00

I was preparing dinner today and beets were on the menu. The kids have never eaten beets before and they had a ton of questions. Marin said "Hey, William (her cousin) told me beets make your pee turn red. Is that true?" I said it can be true if you eat enough beets.

Fast forward, the kids are wolfing down the beets. They didn't eat anything else. Beets everywhere. Colleen, who was not in the room during the whole beets conversation, asked "What are you girls doing?" The answer "Making our pee turn red!"

As soon as they were excused from the table, the kids bolted to the bathroom. We could hear them in there>

"Hurry up I want a turn"
"Look, I think I see red"
"No its not"
"Yes, look right there, see?"
"Flush that, I want to try"

So, parents, now you know how to get your kids excited about beets.

Political Animal

2010-06-01T05:37:00.000-07:00

It's Primary Election season and there's a lot of talk about it on the radio. Today, I'm driving Emmy to preschool and she asks me "Daddy, what's a Democrat?" (OMG - the opportunities to go nuclear on the editorial scale!)

I explained "Emmy, you know when we go to vote? Well, there are usually two teams trying to win. One is the Democrats and one is the Republicans. They are two teams playing against each other trying to win the most votes."

Emmy "Oh, who usually wins these games?"

Me: " In Maine, usually the Democrats win"

Emmy: "Which team do you like?"

Me: "Usually I like the Republican team."

Emmy: "That's because the Democrat team makes you pay too much money to the man, right?"

Awesome.....Is it possible Emmy has the only Republican preschool teacher in the whole state?

Fake right shoot left

2010-05-10T05:53:00.000-07:00

So there is Emmy, warming up for her pre-K soccer game. The opposing coach is in his own goal letting his players warm up on him. Naturally, he is playing very soft, letting everything go in, as he should with players this age.

Emmy makes her way down to his end of the field and asks if she can score in him. He says "Sure!" but something about Emmy must have rubbed him the wrong way because he suddenly decides to play like its the Olympics. Emmy comes in with the ball on her right foot and the coach sells out right, I mean lays right out horizonally. Emmy shifts the ball to her left foot, and toe flips the ball into the upper left corner, making the guy look like a fool. He turns bright red and being sold out by a little girl. It gets worse.

Emmy falls to the ground, holding her belly laughing, and starts yelling at no one in particular "Oh my God, did you see me fake that guy out? That was so hilarious." The parents in the lawn chairs were all asking each other "Did you see what that little girl just did?"

At this point it was getting embarrassing for me. Thanks goodness most of the crowd don't know we're Emmy's parents.

Opposite

2010-05-06T12:33:00.000-07:00

So there we are, tucking the kids into bed, having our 'calming down' conversations to get the kids into the right frame of mind to go to sleep.

Marin: Daddy, what do you want from me?
Me: Marin, I want you to be nice and love me forever like I will love you forever.
Marin: Mama, what do you want from me?
Colleen: Marin, I want you to be nice and love me forever like I will love you forever.
Marin: Emmy, what do you want from me?
Emmy: I want you to be super mean to me and always push all of my buttons all the time.

One Moon Ethiopia

2010-05-03T10:23:00.000-07:00

Last weekend we attended and participated in an exhibit of artwork created by the children of adoptive parents from Ethiopia. About 15 families from southern ME and NH participated, and all the kids had a total blast.

On the ride home, it got me thinking.

What is it about these 15 families that motivates us to seek each other out, gravitate toward each other, and in some cases, cling to each other? The surface answer is we have a common bond, children from Ethiopia, and that is obviously a part of the answer because we probably would not even know each other if not for that.

But this phenomenon runs deeper. We seem to be building, or striving to build, something deeper and enduring. A permanent community of sorts. A legacy for our children so they will have roots after we are gone.

We sense, on some level, that our children do not, and perhaps will not, have the deepness of roots we thought they would have in America. That even in our biological families, there is transracial undercurrent that anyone other than the parent(s) cannot fully appreciate. But other adoptive parents do understand and can shed light on solutions. Our kids feel comfortable being with the other kids that have experienced substantially similar life trajectories. The kids are approaching an age now where they can compare notes and begin to explore unanswered questions for themselves. Having good relationships with their fellow Eth orphans helps get them through this.

I'll close with one cute example. This weekend we saw a little girl that shared a dorm room with our girls at the orphanage in Addis. They have had no contact at all in almost 3 years. They looked across the beach, recognized each other, ran to each other, gave each other a long embrace, and played together the entire day as though they had never been apart.

Only these kids know what they left behind. Only these kids know what it took to survive that. Luckily, the parents get it, and the parents know it is these kids that are the support network our kids are going to need feel connected, supported, and affirmed into adulthood.

Showing early promise

2010-05-02T18:31:00.000-07:00

Today was opening day of spring soccer.

Marin plays in the 2-3 grade bracket. Her team lost 3-1, but Marin had a decent game and scored her teams' only goal.

Emmy plays in the pre-K league. She probably should be in the first grade league. Today Emmy scored six goals in the first five minutes of the game. The opposing coach and I talked it over, decided the field sloped in a direction that favored Emmy's team (it really did - it's a crummy field), and switched goals so Emmy would have to score uphill. No problem. Three more goals in the next five minutes. I sent Emmy to the bench so other kids could touch the ball.

When Emmy returned to the game, we were leading something like 10-1. I told Emmy "No more goals for you, you wait for one of your team to get to the goal with you and pass it to her". Emmy responded with a cheerful "OK, Daddy."

Emmy takes the ball, zip zip zip, and is at the other goal waiting for someone on her team to catch up. She turned around and yelled "Hurry up and I'll shoot it to you and you can score a goal." And she did - about a dozen times. It was just ridiculous. Thankfully, all the parents knew I was doing everything I could to take the attention off Emmy, but it just wasn't working.

It is really exciting to watch her play.

Is that you, Uncle Jim??

2010-04-23T19:17:00.000-07:00

So there we are, watching the Celts in the process of stealing game three in Miami. Every time Jeff Van Gundy says Glen 'big baby' Davis, the kids roll on the floor laughing and ask me "What's big baby's number again, Daddy?" Eleven. "Oh, yeah, a waaahhh and a waaaahh, big baby". Giggling their heads off.

Anyway, they cut to Rick Pitino (former Celtics coach) in the audience and they interview him for about 60 seconds. Suddenly, Emmy and Marin are motionless, silent, watching intently. Finally Emmy asks "Why is Uncle Jim not wearing his glasses?"

I'm thinking "What??!!??" Then I look at the TV again, and Pitino does look like Colleen's brother Jim, but with a few more wrinkles. Colleen starts cracking up. I can't wait to tell Jim about this.

What's the Frequency, Kenneth?

2010-04-21T06:25:00.000-07:00

So here we are at a large family gathering, about 80 of us, for a special event. Some of us, including my Dad and I, arrived early to verify things were arranged as we had planned, check in with the caterer, etc.

My Aunt pulls my Dad and I aside and starts talking in a wierd blend of hesitant, apologetic, defensive tone. I can't imagine where this is going, and she eventually cuts to the chase.

Aunt: Well, my daughter has sort of become a foster mother to one of the boys who is friends with her son.
Us: Oh, wow, congratulations.
Aunt: Well, it's likely he will be joining us here today and I want to be sure its OK with you that we have one more guest.
Us: Of course.
Aunt: Well, he's a black kid.
Us: OK
Aunt: Really? You mean thats OK with you?

At this point, my Dad and I look at each other trying to read each others reaction and determine whether my Aunt is pulling our legs or not. Could she possibly be serious? Has she forgotten that my children and my Dad's grandchildren are African? Apparently, she did not make that connection. So, how to process this conversation?

On the one hand, I am thrilled that my Aunt does not even think of my children as black. That she is totally oblivious to my kids skin color is incredible, astounding, and exhilarating. My kids are totally and unconditionally accepted by the older generations in my family, and that is awesome.

On the other hand, there is still this latent attitude - I don't even know how to describe it - that the older generations have about blacks. It's really subtle. It is not evil; they wish no ill will to blacks. It's more like "I like blacks better when they keep their distance" and "I am concerned you will not accept me if I am associated with blacks." I think America needs to lose two more generations - say 40 more years - before these attitudes will be largely extinguished.

Unbreakable

2010-04-07T12:14:00.000-07:00

Emmy is a little more than 5 years old.

Yesterday, she went to the car to get her sunglasses, and accidentally slammed her fingers in the door of the car, tearing off a small piece of flesh. Correct me if I'm wrong, but wouldn't most kids age 5 stand there with their fingers stuck in the door and scream bloody murder?

Emmy reached over with her other hand, opened the car door, and removed her injured hand. Then she walked into the house, held up her bloody hand for us to see, and calmly asked for an icy bear (ice cube) and a bandaid. Only after we got her hand all cleaned and bandage did she go lie down with her doll and stuffed animal and begin to sob quietly.

March Madness 2010

2010-03-22T06:02:00.001-07:00

I am having a blast introducing the girls to March Madness. I showed them the brackets and asked them to pick a couple of teams to cheer for.

They picked Temple because they liked Hootie the Owl Mascot, so I taught them the Cherry and White fight song. And they picked Syracuse because we have been following the Orange all season and their favorite player is Scoop Jardine. Temple lost its first game, so I asked the girls to pick another team to cheer for. They liked the Xavier cheerleaders, and now they run around the house with their forearms crossed in the shape of an X chanting "Lets go X! Lets go X!"

They are so into the games - asking questions like what's his name?, what's his number?, is he a big man or a little man?, whose cheerleader is that?, which team are the most people cheering for?. Then they start mimicking the announcers - from downtown, in the paint, for the jam, tough D, and the foul, for three, travelling violation, airball - it is awesome. Who needs sons to enjoy march Madness? Last night, we were watching Purdue v. Texas A&M, and one team committed a horrific turnover so the coach called a time out. Emmy turns to face me, dead serious, and says "Coach wants to talk it over, right Dad?"

Now weneed them to grow to 6 feet so we can pursue that hoops scholarship!

GriefStorm Part 2

2010-02-26T06:29:00.000-08:00

This was Emmy, crying and crying and crying herself to sleep last night.

She wants to believe her African mother is still alive and we can go back to find her and bring her to America. If I didn't think it would create even more issues later on, I would be fine letting Emmy believe her mother is still alive. We finally talked her back down to the point where she acknowledged her African mother is not alive.

At that point, she suddenly turned on us, sobbing bitterly, and angrily accusing us of not doing enough to save her mother. Why didn't we bring medicine to the mother? Why didn't we pay for her doctor? Why didn't we bring her to America to get healthy?

Aye aye aye.

Still puzzling over why this is happening now, and with such frequency, and with such raw emotion, we called our friends the O'Connors. They suggested two theories..........

1. February is the third anniversary of the adoption. Jeff said all their kids got depressed or homesick around their anniversaries. I asked "How do they know? We don't celebrate the anniversary. We don't even acknowledge it in front of the kids." Jeff said they just know. Maybe they recognize the season or something, but they just know.

2. Eyob. At our house we talk a lot about the O'Connors pending adoption of Eyob and one the reasons for that adoption is to get a lot of medical attention for Eyob. Emmy, listening to that story as often as she has, probably wonders why the same effort was not made for her Mother, and the fact that it wasn't strikes Emmy as frustrating and profoundly unfair.

GriefStorm

2010-02-20T18:59:00.000-08:00

Don't know what triggered this - maybe a dream or something - but the girls were in full blown grieving this morning. Bodies shaking with sobs, contorted facial expressions, flailing limbs, ear splitting wailing, pillows soaked with tears, inconsolably begging to see and hold their Ethiopian parents. I'll tell you what, I am having a hard time coming up with words or analogies to describe the shock value of such an emotional display and the helplessness that we, as parents, were feeling.

When we finally got them calm enough so we could reason with them, we told the kids we would take them to their parents grave to spend time with them. (readers of the blog know we had a stone carved for the girls' parents and placed in Leo's family plot)

So this afternoon, I took the kids to the graveyard. The kids can find their parents' stone by themselves now because they recognize some of the names on nearby stones.

Marin stared at the stone for a few minutes and read it out loud to me. Then Marin said "I think I feel my mother here". I said "Marin, if you feel her here, then talk to her. I'll stand over there and give you privacy."

Marin kneeled in the grass and bent over to kiss her mothers' name on the stone. Then she said, in the sweetest sounding voice, the kind of voice used when people see someone they really loved for the first time after a long absence and they aren't really certain how the other person is going to respond. "Hi Mama. This is Marin. I want you to know I am having a good life in America. Emmy too. I hope you are having a good life in heaven. I miss you. This man behind me name is Leo. He is my new Daddy. He is doing a good job. He treats me and Emmy good. I love you and I miss you. From Marin."

Then she bent over and kissed the stone again, and we left.

The Adults are Coming!!

2010-02-13T19:14:00.000-08:00

Emmy needed a neck and throat Xray. Turns out we know the Xray technician, and it was a slow time of day, so she let me and Emmy come back to see Emmy's xrays on the computer screen. It was fascinating to show Emmy her skull, neck, collarbone, ribs, etc. in the photo and then trace her finger along the bone through her skin so she could feel the bones she was looking at. While showing Emmy her teeth, I saw this second row of teeth directly underneath them. I said "Emmy, look, these are your grown up teeth getting ready to push your baby teeth out of the way. Wow. Look how close they are. I'll bet you start losing some teeth soon." Emmy was speechless.

When we got in the car, Emmy wanted to call Mama and tell her all about the xrays. She was so excited, all she could say was "The adults are coming. The adults are coming. The adults are coming!"

Cambodia

2010-02-10T11:17:00.000-08:00

Last weekend we entertained the family of one of Marin's classmates. They are interacial - the wife white american and the husband cambodian. The wife was particularly interested in Marin and Emmy's story - down to the details.

As we were talking about the severe malnutrition and the fact we left an older sister behind, the husband started crying. I was a little surprised and uncomfortable and tried to look away. The wife was consoling him and telling him it would be OK. The husband continued sobbing and excused himself from the room.

I looked at the wife as if to say "What was that all about?" Turns out the husband lived his very early years the same way Marin and Emmy did, just working for food and looking for food. Then he spent several years in a refugee camp where he lost two siblings to starvation. The story of our kids brought all those memories right back to life for him. When we realized what was happening, we almost started crying, too. It was heartbreaking to see a man get transported back decades in time to a living hell right before your eyes, and it is heartbreaking to see the first evidence we have seen that our kids may never outgrow the hardships they survived.

Eff Bomb

2010-02-10T11:12:00.000-08:00

So Marin finally heard it on the playground at school last week. She comes home, sits quietly at the table coloring, then looks up to address Colleen.

Marin: (tentatively) Mom, what is fuck?
Colleen: What?
Marin: (cautious and puzzled) I heard a new word on the playground today. Fuck. What does that mean?
Colleen: (cool as a cucumber) What do you think it means?
Marin: I think it means run as fast as you can. But I'm not sure because the playground lady said it is a bad word.
Colleen: Why do you think it means run as fast as you can?
Marin: Because when the boys say it, they are doing something naughty, then the say 'Let's get the fuck out of here', then they run away as fast as they can.

What next??

2010-01-26T04:59:00.000-08:00

Readers of this blog know that Marin periodically has episodes of badly missing her Ethiopian mother, and these episodes have become more frequent recently. We comfort Marin by reminding her that a Mother's love for her child never ends, and her mother is loving her from heaven right now and forever, and some day Marin will see her mother again in heaven, and she has to be patient for that day.

Saturday evening we entertained an Ethiopian immigrant family at our house. The husband began speaking Amharic to Marin to see what she remembered. Marin remembered a little, but not much. She went back to playing with the other children and we all enjoyed a very nice evening.

Sunday morning, Marin awoke in a bad state of distress. After getting her calmed down, she explained she is upset because she forgot her Amharic, and how will she speak to her mother in heaven if the mother speaks Amharic and Marin speaks English? OK, I'll admit, I am not fast enough on my feet to come up with a credible answer to that question.

MLK Day

2010-01-15T18:29:00.000-08:00

It occurred to me that Marins' class might discuss race issues next week, so I thought I better get a preview. Marins' teacher was great. She said "I'm really glad you called, because I have been a little anxious about this, too. Will you come in Friday AM before school and review the lesson with me?" Boy, am I glad I did.

First, a little context. Ethiopia is the only African country that was never colonized and one of the few regions that was not involved in slave trade. Marin saw brown skinned people in all positions of power, wealth, and poverty. There was no marginalization based on skin color.

Back to the classroom. There were two basic books. One was a biography of MLK that spent a fair amount of time describing the isolation and discrimination he endured as a child. It is so different to read these stories know as the parent of an African child. All I think about is how she is going to feel being the only black kid in the room when they talk about black kids being picked on. I asked the teacher how she is going to teach this. She said she is going to focus on respect. That people in the past were not respectful but now we spend a lot of time teaching respect. Be respectful is one of the key precepts in our primary school.

I decided I was OK with that, as long as she kept an eye on Marin and Marin did not show any visible signs of distress.

The second book was the story of Ruby Bridges, one of the first black girls to attend a white school during the school integration movement. This book was pretty intense. It told about courtroom battles where lawyers argued to keep blacks out of white schools. It had photos of riots and protests. The upshot was a real newsphoto of Ruby climbing the steps of the white school escorted by armed soldiers. Ruby looked like Marin. The teacher turned to me and said "I am not at all comfortable with this one. That little girl looks so much like Marin." I'm thinking to myself "Holy cow, that IS Marin." So we agreed she would not teach the Ruby Bridges book.

This is the conflict. On the one hand, you can't hide from history and all these kids are going to learn about these events some day. On the other hand, Marin is the only black kid in her class and she is really sociable and well liked. Do we want to risk upsetting that supportive environment by introducing all the hatred and unfairness of past generations?

I'll tell you, America's history takes on a whole different hue when viewed from the perspective of what it could do to your child's self esteem and relationships with classmates when she is sitting in a room full of whites learning about all the past crimes and injustices committed against her people only because of their skin color. It is painful.

Baby Einstein????

2010-01-13T02:55:00.000-08:00

OK, we all know parents who think their kids are genuises, but Emmy (just turned 5) is doing things that flabbergast us. Three examples.

First, she recently beat me in checkers, and I was trying to win. I showed her the basic rules and she intuitively figured out how to split defenses, set traps and lures, and prevent me from battling to a draw.

Second, last night she was lying in bed counting her fingers when she asked me how to know when to stop.
Me: What?
Emmy: What is the biggest number? How do I know when I am at the end?
Me: Google. Google is the biggest number.
Emmy: Daddy, you're wrong. (staring at her fingers) Google and one, google and two, google and three. See Daddy, whatever number you say, I will just add one to it and make you wrong.

Is it common to self-discovered the concept of infinity at age 5?

Finally, when we are driving on the highway, Emmy will stare at the oncoming traffic and have a dialog with herself.
- We're gonna beat that car to the sign
- That car is speeding, it's gonna beat us to the tollbooth
- That truck will beat that car before it goes under the bridge
- When I look out my window, the trees that are close to me are speeding but the trees far away are moving slow.

Is it common to ponder concepts of relative position and relative motion (differential calculus) at age 5?

Sen Harry Reid

2010-01-12T05:55:00.000-08:00

This is typically an apolitical blog, but Harry's comments are so insidious that I feel he needs to be called out. For those not familiar, Sen Reid's comments about Obama during the 2008 primary process were recently exposed. Reid said (paraphrasing) " Obama is electable because he is light skinned and he doesn't speak with Negro accent, unless he wants to."

So why is this political analysis objectionable? Aside from being brazenly calculating and showing how ugly the depths of his mind truly is; to understand, you must understand the history of light brown vs dark brown.

In the colonial south, the light skinned blacks were usually the offspring of a male master and a female slave. As the masters' offspring, the light skinned blacks were afforded preferential treatment - usually given light duty, were given proper nutrition and medical attention, often received an education and taught to speak proper English, and basically had all the priveleges and liberties of a white. This is where the expression "raised white" originated. On the other hand, dark browns had the hard labor in the fields and barns, were beaten and fed poorly, kept uneducated, and really lived the hard core life of a hard core slave. This is where expressions such as "black list, black ball, black mark, etc" originated.

Even today, when you look at female black models, the more successful ones (Tyra Banks, Iman, etc.) have light complexions, straighter hair, and anglo facial features. When you look at a criminal suspect lineup, the blackest faces with the blackest facial features are perceived as the most menacing.

So Sen Reid, as a Senate Majority Leader, and in all his clumsiness, basically validated the racist perception that lighter skinned blacks are more 'acceptable' than darker skinned blacks because lighter skinned blacks may have caucasian genes (as Obama does) and may have been 'raised white.' His ham fisted statement of fact, that these unfair perceptions dating from 200 years ago, are still valid today, makes him unsuitable for a leadership position in he US government.

Amharic Yenta Sisterhood

2010-01-11T05:13:00.000-08:00

Yenta - Yiddish - Meddler, gossiper, meddlesome, busybody, nuisance. Mostly Judaic and female. (from the Urban Dictionary)

Back to this Ethiopian Party, there was a group of about six mature Eth women and they wanted to meet all the adopted children and their parents. Out of respect, and believing we may learn some important cultural things, we parents complied.

Two of the women stroked and stroked and stroked the hair on Marin's and Emmy's head.
Yenta (frown on her face): Who does this hair?
Colleen: I have it done professionally about every second month and I do the daily routine.
Yenta (still frowning): Hmmmmmm.........this is not a good job.
Colleen: What do you mean?
Yenta (now smug): It is not how I would do it.
Yenta (asking another Yenta): What do you think of this hair?
Other Yenta (shakes head and clucks tongue): Such a shame because her hair could be so beautiful if the mother did it correctly.

Holy Cow! I really wish Seinfeld were still airing because I would submit this script! Anyone who knows Colleen knows she spends way way way too much time and money on our girls hair. I didn't know whether to laugh my butt off at the ridiculousness or cry for Colleen because I knew it must be killing her to hear this nonsense.

So the next day, Colleen was on the phone comparing notes with the other adoptive mothers.

One mother was scolded for picking her daughter up to hold her too often (remember these are orphans who often suffer abandonment anxieties).
Yentas: What are you doing? You should not hold her so much. You will ruin that child. Let her cry. Let her learn to do by herself. She does not need you hovering over her all the time. You are a smother mother. Go relax somewhere, drink your wine, and nothing will happen to your child.

Another mother was lectured because her daughter was not particularly eager to return to Ethiopia for a homeland visit.
Mother: Well, my daughter was very hungry in Ethiopia and she was worked very hard. Her memories of Eth are not that pleasant.
Yentas: She is playing you. African children are very clever. Do not believe her. Somebody was whispering in her ear before she came here. She was coached what to say and what not to say. You must get to the bottom of these lies or you are not a good mother. You come see us in a few months and tell us what you have learned. If you have learned nothing, then we will figure this out for you.

So, fair warning to all you adoptive parents, if you encounter the Amharic Yenta Sisterhood, make sure you have taken your self- esteem supplements beforehand. And before you take even one work of their advice, post on your adoption yahoo group or chatroom to make sure you get the reall skinny from other adoptive parents. Good luck to all.

Homesick, Part 2

2010-01-10T18:39:00.000-08:00

Saturday we were at an Ethiopian Christmas (Feast of the Epiphany) party. There must have been at least 60 ethiopians there spanning all generations from toddlers to grandparents. It was pretty cool and our kids had a ball.

Sunday morning, all Marin wanted to talk about was Ethiopia, her adoption, and how we found each other.

Marin: "Daddy, tell me the whole story, from the very beginning, about how you met me."

Me: "Well, we flew on the airplane.........

Marin: "No, before that. All the way from the first time you thought you wanted to adopt a kid."

Me: (tells the entire story a to z)

Marin: Tell me everything you know about my Africa Mom and Dad.

Me: (tells the entire story, which isn't much)

Marin: And when can I see them again.

Me: Sweetheart, you know what happened to your Africa Mom and Dad, right?

Marin: Yes.

Me: Were you there and do you remember?

Marin: Yes (getting choked up)

Colleen: Marin, we will see them again in heaven. Just be patient. They are watching out for you from heaven and they will be excited to see you.

Marin: OK, Now tell me about my brothers.

Me: Marin, I don't know of any brothers. Do you remember any brothers?

Marin: No, but just checking, you know, in case you forgot to tell me. Tell me about my sister Genet.

Me: (tells all I know, again, not much)

Marin: But Genet is your daughter, too, right?

Me: No, Marin, we did not adopt Genet.

Marin: (tears welling up) What? Why, Daddy?

Me: (caught totally offguard) Well, Genet, is a teenager. She could take care of herself. You and Emmy were just little kids and you needed someone to take care of you.

Marin: (falls into my arms, full blown bawling her eyes out) But Daddy, how do we know Genet is OK? We need to find her. If we find her will you adopt her, too, so we can be all sisters again?

Anyway, now Colleen and I are discussing whether I should take a fact finding trip to Eth this year. Just to see if I can locate Genet, take some photos and video, and set the stage for a visit with Marin and Emmy. I think it's a bad idea to take the kids over there and conduct the search with them in tow. We need to know beforehand whether Genet is still alive and where she can be found.

Brown skin girls

2010-01-10T18:36:00.000-08:00

I had womens basketball on TV, UConn vs. Carolina, but no one was really watching it. It was background noise to all the stuff we were doing around the house. Suddenly Marin perks up.

"Daddy, on the TV is all brown skin girls."

"Yes, Marin, sometimes in college the brown skin girls are the best basketball players."

"Daddy, brown skin girls rule."

Eighty Eight

2010-01-04T05:54:00.001-08:00

Continuing on this homesick theme the next morning, Marin asked a lot of questions about death and heaven, and whether I promised to take care of her the rest of her life.

I told Marin I promised to take care of her for as long as I live, which then prompted questions about how long I will live (Marin is very alert to possible double talk and digs for the truth). Unbeknownst to Marin, longevity is something I obsess about because it is linked to my determination that we not outlive our wealth. I have gone so far as to have my life expectancy scientifically projected using data points like my health and safety habits, blood and urine test results, family history, and genetics. So, I have a very good idea about how long I will live and a financial plan for supporting that life span.

So then I ask Marin "How old do you think you will be when you die?" Without missing a beat, she shoots right back "88" (which happens to be my number) . I looked up at her, to see if she was smirking or laughing - you know - anything to signal that she had overheard me saying that number to someone and was trying to push my buttons - but she was dead serious. That was her real answer.

It's creepy. Marin is not that good at math (yet), and of all the numbers she could have said, she just pulls that one out of thin air.

Homesick

2010-01-04T05:46:00.000-08:00

We had a great New Years Eve celebration with two other adoptive families and one waiting family - a total of ten Ethiopians in the house - with Injera bread on the buffet and Ethiopian pop dance music on the CD player. The waiting family, naturally, talked a lot about their prospective visit to Addis and asked the kids what they remembered about Eth.

During our ride home, Marin was very quiet, with a pensive look on her face, then she started asking a lot of questions.

When will she go to Ethiopia again?
Can we find her sister?
How will we know where to find her?
If her sister wants to come to America will we take her?

Then Marin started talking about all the people in Eth she missed, which brought the discussion around to her mother. I asked Marin if she remembered when her mother died and to tell me about it. Marin said she remembered all the family standing in a circle holding hands, saying prayers to her mother and telling stories about her mother.

We are starting to realize this wound may never heal, it can only be managed, as positively and constructively as possible.

Conflicted Christmas

2009-12-25T05:38:00.000-08:00

First let me say we had a wonderful Christmas Eve and Christmas Morning. The kids were great, the tree looked great, we spent time with everybody we wanted to spend time with, and everyone seemed to genuinely enjoy the two days. So why the conflictedness?

I think its something every parent who has adopted from a poverty stricken country is feeling today. It really hit me when that song "Do they know its Christmastime at all" played on the radio. I mean, talk about a stupid song. The lyrics (when you can understand them) attempt to paint this dreadful portrait of a poor and starving Africa that we all witnessed when adopting, but trivialize it by way overdramatizing. In contrast, the melody and rhythms are joyous Christmas bells and upbeat rotodrums. Weird contradictions. Anyway, in the middle of all this nonsense, one of the singers belts out, clear as day, "Tonight thank God it's them instead of you."

That's the line that grabs me. When you think about it, the only thing that seperates us from some poor Asefa or Ketemash living in a dung hut spending Christmas morning looking at their drought and insect decimated crops and their starving children is where we were born. Doesn't that seem capricious? Doesn't that seem tenuous? Isn't that the most random thing in the universe, when you really think about it? Makes me feel like a lottery winner instead of someone who knocked himself out in college, grad school, and building a career.

So then I look at our girls. They are now normal size for their ages, totally healthy, comfortably playing with their new dolls in a warm house and enjoying a balanced breakfast. Three years ago they were starving and filthy, earning their own way in the village by tending chickens, collecting firewood, washing clothes and dishes, sweeping floors, fetching water, etc. Today, their are countless orphans in Ethiopia and other countries living exactly like our kids once did.

"Tonight thank God its' them instead of you." It's enough to make you cry.

Defending home field

2009-12-23T09:35:00.000-08:00

I was holding this story from Panama because I could not decide whether it belonged in the blog. What the heck, we are recording history, right?

Marin and Emmy were playing in the pool. A group of boys a little older than Marin jumped in the pool and started playing rough, so Marin spoke to them about safety. This was the opening the boys needed to start teasing Marin.

Emmy, watching carefully, began to see that Marin was getting upset. I was about to intervene on Marins' behalf when Emmy unleashed a barrage of angry F-bombs and other choice words at the top of her lungs that set the boys back on their heels for a minute (FYI, she is not learning these words at home). While I sat in stunned silence watching from a pool chair, the boys regrouped and began teasing Marin a second time.

Emmy looked up at them, smiled sweetly, and informed them that she had just peed in the pool. The boys recoiled and moved on to another swimming pool.

Then Marin turned to Emmy, drop dead serious, and asked "Emmy, did you really pee in the pool?". Emmy burst out laughing and said "No, Marin. I was trying to trick those mean boys."

I really don't know where she learns these tactics, but Emmy is one little firecracker.

Why I don't share

2009-12-08T22:22:00.001-08:00

Emmy has been reluctant to share with one of the kids at preschool. We talk to her about it, explain why it's good to share, why it's important to have friends, etc. Emmy has humored us for a few weeks but not changed her behavior.

In the car this morning I was lecturing Emmy again when she blurted "You don't know it, but (kids name here) sticks her hand down her pants to scratch her butt and then she doesn't wash her hands. It's disgusting. I will never touch anything she touches in my whole life."

Well, that little piece of information helps put things into perspective.

Santa's Village aftermath

2009-12-08T22:03:00.000-08:00

Each Monday the children in Marins' class have a 'sharing minute' in which they bring something to show the class, or a story to tell. (I think we used to call this show and tell).

Anyway, Marin brought the photo of her and Santa taken at Santa's Village over the weekend. Unfortunately, I did not anticipate the controversy.

The kids peppered Marin and challenged her credibility.......
- Was he real or fake?
- How do you know?
- Did you see Rudolph?
- Isn't Santa really Mom and Dad? and on and on and on

Marin stood tall. After realizing she was getting no help from the adults in the room, she said "Listen kids. I sat in his lap and I heard him talk and he looked right in my eyes and told me I am a good girl. I gave him a picture I drew and Santa said Mrs. Claus was going to hang it on the wall in the North Pole. So he is real. I saw him myself."

That's my girl!

Santa's Village

2009-12-06T15:19:00.000-08:00

Last weekend we took the family to Santa's Village (www.santasvillage.com) to get into the Christmas spirit. I am writing because our girls were so well behaved I want to tell the world.

First, it was a very long day for us. We drove 2.5 hours to get to the place, then there was a long line to get in and a large crowd inside. Kids were melting down all around us. After a few hours of waiting in lines and listening to kids throw tantrums and scream for this that and the other thing, it dawned on me that our kids were behaving wonderfully.

They lasted until the 7pm closing time and then were very well behaved on the car ride home. After putting the kids to bed, Colleen and I talked about how lucky we are our kids behaved so well and how that really added to making a special day even more special.

Candor

2009-12-06T15:16:00.000-08:00

We were driving slowly through the center of town this weekend and someone was on the sidewalk dressed as Frosty the Snowman and waiving at the passing cars. I slowed and rolled down Marin's window so she could wave to him. Marin was all excited and said "Hello Mr. Snowman. Merry Christmas!"

Emmy was bummed that she was on the wrong side of the car, so I turned around and gave Emmy a chance to say hello to the snowman. As I rolled down the window, Emmy stuck her head out and screamed as loud as she could "You're a fake!!"

Chick magnet

2009-12-02T11:06:00.000-08:00

Recently we were checking in at the Panama City airport for our flight home and there was a very attractive woman in the line beside us. Marin starts asking me questions about this womans' hair, nails, etc. Finally I said "Marin, go introduce yourself to her." To my surprise, Marin does. Even said "Mucho Gusto" which is a phrase we had worked on all week.

Anyway, they're getting along pretty well and I thought I should get a photo of this woman with the girls, so I asked. She says "Sure" and whips out a ..........drum roll........... Miss Panama sash. Now, suddenly, it all makes sense.

Attached is photo of Marin and Emmy with their new friend, Miss Panama.

National Geo comes through again.

2009-12-02T06:29:00.001-08:00

Emmy has little scars on her cheeks. Nobody at horizon house could tell us what caused them, other than to say they might be tribal markings (like Sister Tyrhaz has in her eyebrows). We've always wondered, because Emmy's scars do appear to be intentional.

The Dec 2009 issue of Nat Geo has an article on page 94 about the Hadza tribe in East Aftrica.

One of the photos has faces of children with scars cut into their cheeks. The explanation is it conditions the children not to cry because the salt from tears will sting the small cuts in their cheeks.

Curiousity

2009-11-13T05:49:00.000-08:00

Marin had a day off from school last week, so we left her with a dear friend and her high school daughter for the day. Marin cornered the daughter, thinking the mother was out of earshot, and began - ummmm - interviewing her.

Marin: Do you have a boyfriend?
Megan: Yes.
Marin: What's his name?
Megan: Seth. You met him before.
Marin: Oh yeah, Seth. He's cute. Do you kiss him?
Megan: Sometimes, a little.
Marin: Do you kiss him on the lips?
Megan: Marin!!
Marin: OK, OK, sorry, sorry. Do you kiss him in front of other people?
Megan: No
Marin: Only in privacy, right?
Megan: Yes.
Marin: Do you stick your tongue out when you kiss him? Like this. (demonstrates with a french kiss into the air, complete with eyes closed and moaning soundtrack)
Megan: Marin, I am not answering any more questions. Where did you learn about this stuff?
Marin: I watched my cousin do kissing with her boyfriend. But she is in college now.

That clinches it. I am locking her in the attic.

BUMmer

2009-11-05T08:11:00.000-08:00

OK, Colleen did not find this to be amusing, but I ran to my office, shut the door, and was rolling on the floor laughing.

Apparently, Marin and Emmy had located one of my old digital cameras (that I thought I had lost), slapped a couple of batteries in it, and were experimenting.

The kids were so proud of their work they handed the camera to Colleen to take a look. Next I hear Colleen in this really serious tone asking the kids when did this happen, how did this happen, where was Mama and Daddy when this happened, etc. Then I hear Marin and Emmy giggling and wondering why Colleen is not as pleased as they are. So now I am obligated, you know, as a father and husband, to go downstairs and investigate.

I see Colleen browsing through the viewer and looking at a series of Ethiopian moons. Apparently, Emmy would bend over to moon Marin while Marin took the photos, then they exchanged positions, and Emmy took the moon photos of Marin. We're talking about a dozen of just butt shots - and nothing else.

Emmy: That one's my bottom, mama.
Marin: That bottom is mine, mama
Emmy: I took that one, mama
Marin: No, that one's mine. My bottom is bigger and browner. (well, at least she is very comfortable in her own skin!)
Emmy: This one is mine.

The cutest part was Marin and Emmy were so proud of themselves. They had figured out how to use the camera with no adult help and then they took lots of pictures of each other. Naturally, after seeing Colleen get upset, they each were eager to give the other credit for the pose idea. I had the hardest time not bursting out laughing and pretending to be mad. I had to excuse myself.

Election Day

2009-11-04T05:54:00.000-08:00

Our kids have been so into elections this year. Their grandfather is heavily involved in town and state politics, and a lot of people stop by his house for discussion and advice during the day and evening, and Marin and Emmy are often present to observe this. Additionally, the kids can read now, so they see all the names and referendum questions on road signs and they pepper us with questions about it.

So fast forward to this morning. I had the TV on at breakfast (something I NEVER do) in order to see the election results. The kids asked why the TV is on and I explained everybody voted yesterday and today we learn what the new rules will be.

Emmy starts in with
- What about Tracy, did she win?
- What about Noel, did he win?
- What about the farm? Will the people buy the farm? (referendum on a land conservation trust)
- Can two mommies get married now? (the gay marriage referendum)

And on and on and on. The kids have a remarkable memory, especially for names.

As I was about to lose my patience with the unending questions (while trying to pay attention to the TV so I would have the information to actually answer the questions), it occurred to me that here are two kids who will be voting here in less than 15 years, who may never have had an opportunity to vote if they had stayed in their rural village. In fact, they may not have even known the concept of voting, the democratic process, and one person/one vote equality.

What makes her tick??

2009-10-16T12:22:00.000-07:00

This AM we had one of those dramafests that mothers and their daughters seem to get drawn into. The climax came when Colleen was buckling Marins' seatbelt. Somehow Colleen's thumb became entangled in the belt. At that instant, Marin decided to become resistant and tugged powerfully on the belt, spraining Colleen's thumb. Colleen, naturally, screamed out in pain. The interesting part is what happened next.

Colleen abruptly returned to the house to get an ice pack and an ace bandage. I put Marin in teh car and drove her to school. Marin was overcome with panic.

First, Marin thought she had killed Colleen. She made me promise her that Colleen was not going to die and asked me over and over "How do you know, Daddy?" "How do you know?"

Once, I got her off that, Marin continued her panic session expressing fear that Colleen would not want to be her Mother anymore. Again "How do you know, Daddy?" "How do you know?" The poor kid was like nearly suicidal until I finally dialed Colleen up on the cell, explained the situation, and Colleen got Marin calmed down.

Some thoughts....................

1. Even after three years in America, Marin's first reaction to even the most routine illness and injury is that the person is going to die. It's just unbelievable to think about how many people she saw die in her young life in Ethiopia. And its' equally unbelievable to think about how totally preventable those deaths were if the country had any kind of living standards.

2. Even after three years in our care, Marin fears abandonment. This really caught me by surprise. We have been totally diligent about hugging the girls every day, several times, telling them we love them forever and we will always take care of them. Never once using corporal punishment. And when we have ourselves convinced that the kids are totally secure with our love and commitment, something like this happens to make us realize they still live in fear of our abandoning them. Bummer.

When does the hungry train stop??

2009-10-11T07:42:00.001-07:00

Yesterday we were driving in the car and we saw a homeless person standing with a "hungry" sign at a busy intersection. Marin saw him and asked about it. So I gave a rambling explanation of what a homeless person is and why some people are hungry even in America.

Marin: But where is his guitar?

Me: What?

Marin: I know hungry people, too. But they play songs on their guitar and have a box to put the money in.

Me: Where did you see this?

Marin: At the Sea Dogs game ( local baseball team to which Marins day care went last summer)

Me: Tell me more about this.

Marin: Remember you gave me five dollars in case I needed to buy a snack at the Sea Dogs game.

Me: Yes.

Marin: Well I bought something to eat, but it cost only two dollars. So I had three dollars left, and I gave it to the hungry man who was playing his guitar.

Me: Why did you do that?

Marin: Daddy, listen, I know what it feels like to be hungry. It hurts and hurts and hurts in my belly. So I felt sorry for the man with the guitar and I wanted him to buy a sandwich.

The Story

2009-10-06T09:42:00.000-07:00

There's been a lot of traffic in the Eth adoption chat rooms about 'the story'. That is, what were older children told by their own families as the explanation for why they were getting into a van with a stranger to go someplace? Many were told they were going away to school and some were told they were going to visit a distant relative.

This is a great question, and one I wish we had asked when we were in Eth. It is a great question because it helps you to understand your childs' behavior. For example, if the child freaks out whenever you try to leave him or her at school, and you know that school was the story the Ethiopian family used to get the child into the van, at least you understand there is a rational reason to freak out from the childs' perspective. Without knowing the story, you would probably misdiagnose the situation.

So last night I asked Marin if she remembered what she was told when she got into the van with Solomon (I happen to remember her driver's name).

Marin said "They told me we were driving to the next village to get water."

Me: Really? Did you believe that?

Marin: Yes.

Me: Why?

Marin: Because that was one of my jobs to get water for some of the Mamas in the village so they would give me and Emmy food. I was happy we were driving because all the other times I had to walk. Then after we were in the van a long long time I knew they tricked me so me and Emmy started crying.

Unkissable

2009-09-29T12:50:00.000-07:00

Emmy is such a teaser. Whenever I try to kiss her, she runs away. If I catch her, she wipes her face where I kissed her and says "Off. Off. Off. Off."

This morning I went to her room to wake her up. She was quietly snoring away. So peaceful. She was adorable. I slowly bent over and gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead. She smiled, pulled her blanket up over her face, wiped her forehead, and slowly said "Off. Off." and started giggling to herself under the blankets.

Channeling

2009-09-28T17:24:00.000-07:00

Marin is getting very philosophical lately. Always asking about death and heaven and God. Is this normal for a seven year old? This morning at breakfast.....................

Marin: Daddy, tell me all the things you think about God.

Me: Why?

Marin: Because I really want to meet her. (her?? where is that coming from!?)

Me: Why?

Marin: I want to ask her why I was born in Africa and why did she let my Africa Mommy and Daddy die and why do I live with you now and how did you know about me to want to be my Daddy.

Me: Is there anything else you want to ask her?

Marin: I want to know how far I am from heaven.

OK, anyone out there want to take a shot at these questions?

Fast forward, I have dropped Marin off at school and driving to work, radio blasting. And this song on the radio is playing............

Tell me all your thoughts on God
Cause I really want to meet her
And ask her why we're who we are
Tell me all your thoughts on God
Cause I'm on my way to see her
To ask her am I very far. Am I very far now?

Holy crap. Once it clicked with me what these lyrcis were saying, I almost drove off the road. What are the chances that this is a coincidence? What does this message mean? How spooky. Even tonight it gives me goosebumps thinking about this.

Ban the Nanny

2009-09-17T05:50:00.000-07:00

About a year ago, we hired a wonderful on-call Nanny to spend overnights and help Colleen manage the kids when I am away on business travel. The Nanny is wonderful - an empty nester woman with a sweet disposition, patience of a saint, and totally kid centric.

We struck gold with her. Marin was miserable toward her.

Marin did and said mean things to the Nanny. Was often a terror to her. It was just ridiculous.

So last week I was away, and the Nanny arrived with a small wedding cake that was left over from her own wedding. WHAT????? We didn't even know she was dating anybody.

Marin leapt for joy. She was so sweet. Snuggled in the Nanny's lap. Showed the Nanny her presents from her own birthday early this month. And on and on and on. Marin could not have been a nicer kid.

Later on, I quizzed Marin about her behavior.

Me: Marin, you used to be so mean to the Nanny.

Marin: I know

Me: But this time you were super nice.

Marin: I know.

Me: Why?

Marin: Because all the times you went away I didn't know if you would come home and Nanny would be my new Daddy and I did not want that. Now I know Nanny will not live with us because her husband won't let her do that and she wants to sleep in the same bed as her husband like you and Mama do.

I post this so you will know that every time your kid is acting out, there is probably a very rational reason inside the kids' head that is driving the behavior. It is our job as parents to question carefully and skillfully to draw out the reason for the behavior, and thereby enable ourselves to address the root cause of the behavior.

The Cutest Soccer Player

2009-09-14T05:56:00.000-07:00

Emmy had her first soccer match Saturday. She plays in the 4 yo league. You know, 8 kids cluster around the ball like a rugby scrum for 30 mins?

Emmy finally broke the ball out of the pack and started heading toward her own goal. I yelled to her "turn it around Emmy turn it around!". Which she did, and then dribbled the ball the entire length of the field into the correct net and scored her first goal.

Emmy then proceeded to do the exact same thing a second time and a third time. Now our team was ahead 3-0 after about 3 minutes of play.

On the fourth time, as she crossed midfield, I yelled "Emmy, no more kicking into the net. Pass the ball to one of your team mates."

So Emmy dribbled the ball down into the box, to the mouth of the goal, and stopped about 5 feet short of the goal line. There she stood, patiently waiting for one of her team mates to come kick the ball into the net. It was so fun to watch and Emmy was too cute.

Unforgiven

2009-09-09T07:10:00.000-07:00

First, a little back story. Emmy took a wicked tumble on her bike over the weekend. No stitches and no broken bones, but dozens of cuts, scrapes, and bruises that required a lot of cold packs, childrens aspirin, band aids, and good old fashioned 'spoil the child' therapy.

This morning, Marin and I had the following exchange, which I post here just to show people how these kids think sometimes.

Marin: How long have we lived in America now?

Me: Over two years

Marin: Oh, that's not a long time.

Me: It's long time for Emmy. It's more than half her life.

Marin: Huh?

Me: You know, Emmy was only two when we got her and now she is almost five. That's more than half her life.

Marin: Is that a good thing?

Me: I think so.

Marin: I don't

Me: Well, we love Emmy. We send her to school, give her good food, she has her own cozy bed, and warm clean clothes. Don't you think that's all good?

Marin: But you made Emmy have an accident?

Me: Do you mean the bike accident?

Marin: Yes

Me: Do you think if Emmy stayed in Africa she would not have any accidents, ever?

Marin: Yes. That's what I think.

Stuart Little

2009-09-06T19:19:00.000-07:00

We teach our kids that all life is precious.

Friday morning, as we left the house, we saw a tiny little infant field mouse on our porch. I figured he was stillborn or something and continued on.

Saturday morning, the kids were playing on the porch and found this same mouse. Using two sticks, I attempted to move the mouse off the porch, and it moved. It opened its eyes, moved its legs, and tried to walk. Oh, crap. The darn thing is alive and the kids saw it.

Of course, they started in right away with "Can we keep him? Can we keep him? We can feed him and everything!" Right.

So I went off to work on my woodpile, but I couldn't get this stupid mouse out of my mind. I started thinking about that kids story Stuart Little. In the meantime, the kids are pestering me with "Daddy, you aren't going to let this poor mouse just die, are you? What is he gets too cold? What if a cat eats him? What is his Mama is looking for him? "

I remembered this guy in town, David Sparks, who rehabs injured animals and releases them. I called him with my tale of woe. He said to bring the mouse down to his house and he would do what he could. So I put the mouse in a salad bowl, strapped the kids into thei car seats, and off we went.

David was great. He gently picked the mouse up and stroked his fur. He said he would pop the mouse into the incubator, feed him with an eye dropper, and when the mouse got stronger, David would release him into a field.

My kids were beaming and so relieved. "You promise?" they said. And they asked if they could come back and see David's other animals some time.

The race card

2009-08-25T18:11:00.001-07:00

I never thought I would say this. I finally understand why some black people are so quick to draw the race card. Here's the situation.

We all know kids can be mean. It's like they have a sixth sense that can sniff out vulnerability in a heartbeat. Marin is just not yet equipped to successfully disarm mean or cliquish American kids. She does not have the verbal skills, the confidence, nor the combativeness.

The comments Marin faces most often are "You're stupid" "You're an idiot" "I don't like you" and "Your brown skin smells funny". Believe me. Marin is a smart, sensitive, and sweet kid. It's not just because I'm her father. Virtually every adult says these things about her.

We tell Marin that kids who behave that way really feel bad about themselves so they say mean things about Marin to make themselves feel better. Then we role play Marins' responses to these aggressions. Sometimes she pulls it off well, but many times she speaks with such trepidation that the bully would become emboldended. It's going to be a long road.

Back to the race card. I am so tempted to teach Marin to say, loudly "Look, I know the only reason you are talking to me this way is because I have brown skin and I am going to tell the Principal right now. You will be in the deepest trouble ever." Sometimes it feels like the only foolproof weapon she has. And its' kind of like verbal karate. You insult me because I am black, so I will use your racism against you. You try to isolate me because I am black, and I will use your racism to isolate you. You try to marginalize me because I am black, and I will use your racism to silence you. You try to degrade me because I am black and I will use your racism to minimize you.

I am beginning to realize the power of the race card. The beauty of its'design is that, in the proper hands, it cannot be successfully employed unless some racist first creates the opportunity for you. It is self governing in that way.

She got skills

2009-08-24T13:46:00.001-07:00

Can I brag on Marin for a minute?

Last week she participated in a weeklong soccer camp. On Wednesday, Marin came home and told us she won the MVP of the day (she doesn't even know what MVP means, just that everyone clapped for her and gave her high 5s). On Wednesday evening, I met the coach and asked him about the MVP. He told me they give one MVP award every day of camp and Marin won today because he had bumped her up to fill an open position on the 3rd and 4th grade team and Marin made some key contributions on defense and scored a goal. "Marin plays far above her age" the coach said.

Then on Friday, they held a mock world cup tournament of 16 teams and Marin's team (Hungary) won the mock world cup. She had a wonderful week and we are so proud of her success.

A Brilliant Idea

2009-08-19T05:36:00.000-07:00

Read "all my gold for a photo" two posts ago.

One blog reader suggested we could contact a police sketch artist to draw the African parents based on how our girls described the parents. Great idea that we took one step further.

We contacted the local college of art and asked to speak with a portrait specialist. The Artist agreed to draw a portrait of both parents based on (1) what our girls look like (2) photos of the siblings, newphews, and nieces of the parents (which we have) and (3) descriptions voiced by Marin and Emmy. So, using all three sources of info, the artist will create the portrait of an Ethiopian couple that we will then frame and hang in our home.

Let's hope this works!

Perhaps a game of chess?

2009-08-17T07:55:00.000-07:00

Over the weekend two of my friends visited and decided to teach Emmy to play checkers while I prepared breakfast. I am overhearing snippets of the coversation.

What really caught my attention was when the two adults said, in unison, "Wow, that was a great move. How did we miss that?"

Turns out they had told Emmy what move to make. And Emmy said "No. I want to do this one." And it was a way better move. The kid is amazing. She connects the dots so FAST!

All my gold for a photo

2009-08-17T07:48:00.000-07:00

Emmy cried herself to sleep last night. She said she wished her African mommy could visit her and see how much she has grown and what a good girl she is. She asked if her African Mommy could visit from heaven for just a few minutes and then go back before anyone knew she was missing.

Finally, we got to the bottom of why Emmy was so upset. She has forgotten what her mother looks like. Because her mother passed away before we travelled to Ethiopia, we do not have a photo of the mother. Poor Emmy. Her wailing was so pitiful. She felt so guilty because she has forgotten what her mother looks like.

Call me Amy

2009-07-25T19:13:00.000-07:00

Emmy had a new friend at school, Owen, and he is from Texas.

After playing with him all day, Emmy came home, exasperated, explaining that Owen was calling her "Amy" all day long even though she told him a hundred times her name is Emmy.

Perspective

2009-07-20T18:04:00.000-07:00

I was telling another adoptive Mom about what happened with Marin yesterday. She said "Let me tell you a story about my Mother."

"My Mother visited this morning and was all bummed about. I asked her why. She had been thinking about the baby she lost over 40 yeasrs ago. So here is my 75 year old Mom who has 8 kids, an army of grandkids, a house on the beach, a host of friends, is in good health, travels all over, and has enjoyed a wonderful life. But every now and then she gets gripped in a moment of sadness about the baby she lost. "

The point is there are sometimes holes in our hearts that cannot be filled. Not by new parents, not by America, not by time. Our job is to help Marin understand it is OK to feel what she is feeling, there is no shame in it, and to understand that feeling may stay with her throughout her life.

Give us strength.

Poor Marin

2009-07-19T19:41:00.001-07:00

This is sad story. You need two pieces of back information first.

1. There is a boy named Eyob in Ethiopia who is about 10 yrs old and quite sick because he was born with Spina Bifida. A family we know sponsors Eyob and brings us up to date on him from time to time.
2. I recently accumulated enough frequent flyer miles to take the four of us to Addis for free, and I am trying to convince Colleen that we should all do a homeland visit during April school vacation in 2010. Colleen is concerned it is too soon and will create too many emotions for Marin.

Fast forward to yesterday, we are all in the car and Marin starts asking questions about Eyob. We're having a nice conversation about Eyob and Ethiopia and I decide this is a good time to ask Marin if she is ready to visit Ethiopia "Not to stay, but just for a few sleepovers and them fly back to America". Marin was very excited and started talking about all the people she wanted to see, including Eyob, and using the few Amharic words she remembers. I looked at Colleen as if to say "and you were concerned about what??"

Suddenly, Marin fell silent and her face was expressionless. Then she burst into inconsolable wailing. " I miss my mommy. I want my mommy. I miss her so much." Whoa. We thought we were way beyond this. We had to stop the car and hug and rock Marin to calm her down. I think this is a new definition of powerlessness. When we have invested almost 3 years of bonding with a great kid, only to find out that when the chips are down, it is still her African mother that she will call out for, even when we are sitting beside her in the same car. We were heartbroken for her.

Emmy had a nightmare

2009-07-19T19:36:00.000-07:00

Emmy woke up crying and calling for Colleen. Colleen rushed to Emmy's bed to see what was wrong.

Emmy - I had a bad dream
Colleen - What was it ?
Emmy - Where's Daddy? I need to see Daddy.
Colleen - Daddy's in the shower. Why do you need to see Daddy?
Emmy - In my dream Daddy died. I need to see him.
Colleen - Emmy, can you hear the water running? Daddy is in the shower
Emmy - No Mama. I need to see him right now.

So Colleen relents and carries Emmy into the bathroom to see me. Emmy suddenly breaks into this huge grin, which Colleen thought was an expression of relief. Emmy looked at Colleen and said "Mama. I tricked you into letting me see Daddy naked."

I'm telling you, this kid is going to be impossible when she gets older.

Emmy Ninja

2009-07-19T19:30:00.000-07:00

Emmy and I were lying on my bed on our backs reading a book. Suddenly, Emmy asked me if I wanted to see her new karate move. Before I could answer, she was standing on the bed beside me as I laid on my back. She said "Ready Daddy?" And I thought to myself "she weighs less then 35 pounds, how much can this hurt?" So I said OK.

Emmy tucked her right elbow tight into her body and held her right wrist tightly so her right elbow was firmly locked. Then she jumped and did a flying landing with the point of her elbow jammed into my ribs. It hurt so bad I swore she broke one of my ribs. After catching my breath I asked "Emmy, where did you learn that?" She replied "The boys at school taught me. Want to see it again Daddy?"

Ants Marching

2009-07-05T18:00:00.000-07:00

You know how wet it has been lately. It has caused some big black ants to migrate into our house. I staked out a lot of ant traps over the weekend.

So this morning Marin and I are at the breakfast table and I spied an ant scurrying across the kitchen floor and I stomped on it.

Marin - What was that?

Me - An ant.

Marin - Did you kill him?

Me - Yes

Marin - Are we gonna eat it?

Me - Did you eat bugs in Africa?

Marin - Yes

Me - How did you eat them?

Marin - Cook them in a pan until they go pop like popcorn

Me - Did you like them

Marin - No. They don't taste good inside me.

Me - Then why did you eat them?

Marin - I was hungry.

Sometimes I wonder if I will ever get to the bottom of all her stories. So many divergent situations bring up a memory that takes is down a trail and I learn something new. I just hope I always remember to ask Marin questions instead of shutting down the conversation.

School Field Trip

2009-06-19T18:36:00.000-07:00

Today I helped chaperone Marin's class on a field trip to Boston. We all rode the train. I was surprised at how popular Marin was with the kids. They all seemed to want to sit with her and talk with her.

By the by I tuned into these conversations. To my surprise, it was all about Africa. For example:

Little girl eating strawberries: "Did you eat strawberries in Africa?"
Little boy playing his Nintendo DS: "What Nintendo games did you play in Africa?"
Older boy: " I saw giraffes and lions in a zoo. Did you have them in Africa?"
Older girl: "Did you watch Hannah Monatana in Africa?"

The kids are totally curious about Africa. And some of the questions they asked were so far out of context, it was hilarious.

Snapper Soup???

2009-06-19T18:28:00.001-07:00

While driving the kids to school, we crested the hill to see a car in the middle of the road, its emergency flashers on, and a large dark lump in the road in front of the car. As we got closer, I realized it was a really huge snapping turtle. Yippee! Science lesson for the kids!

I pulled the car over, unbuckled the kids, and headed for the snapper. Visualize now, I am doing my best Bill Nye the Science Guy. I'm telling the kids about the shell, pointing out the claws, showing how he snaps at a stick, telling what he eats, and describing how I am going to lift him by his shell and toss him back into the brook so he does not get run over. I go on and on and on, finally pausing for a breath and to ask if the kids have any questions I did not answer.

After a pregnant pause, the kids lifted their eyes from the turtle to me and asked, matter of factly, and at the same time "Can we eat him?" I should have known.

National Geographic

2009-06-09T05:28:00.001-07:00

Did anyone read the June 2009 issue?

There is an article about food scarcity beginning on page 26. As usual, there is a photo of a skeletal infant Ethiopian crying his eyes out from hunger but there are no tears because he is so dehydrated.

I walk into the kitchen this morning and Marin is sitting at the table with the magazine open to the photo I just described.

She asked me "Daddy, what is this?"

I said "Marin, do you know that family?"

Marin "No"

Me "Do you know what that photo is?"

Marin "It's not fair and it is scaring me"

Me "Do you know what it is?"

Marin "It's an Africa baby who doesn't have food. It's not fair. He's sad because his belly is hungry. His face is scaring me. I don't want to be hungry again."

It's conversations like this that send so many thoughts whirling through my head - like

1. Why don't we just sell everything and move to Ethiopia and devote ourselves to helping there?
2. Why don't the environmentalists give up their wacky 'corn for fuel' mirage and send some food overseas instead?
3. How can I make sure my kids excel in fields like science or medicine that can help some of these poor people?
4. How can a six year old engage in deep conversations as often as Marin does? What other ghosts does she carry?

Spring Soccer 2009

2009-06-09T05:14:00.001-07:00

Marin played spring soccer a year ago and was painful to watch. She was slow, passive, clueless and jsut happy to be out in a field with her girlfriends. This year is totally different. She hates to lose, loves to score, loves to play D, and is just passionate about this sport. Here are a few examples,

Week 2: Our team got killed and Marin was totally ticked off. She refused to leave the playing fields until I got her into another game. I looked around, found a team that was understaffed, and asked if Marin could sub in. The coach was psyched, and marin was psyched.

Week 3: Same situation, but this time Marin got to play with 3rd graders. She loved playing with kids who kind of understood the game and she learned a ton.

Week 4: Practice got rained out. Marin went upstairs and cried for 15 minutes because she could not play.

Week 5: Our team finally jelled. We scored about 15 goals and Marin scored about 5 of them. She was so excited. I gotta admit, I was really proud watching her take the ball end to end, her braids bobbing around, dodging defenders, and just powering the ball into the net. She looked like one of those Jamaican Olympic sprinters. It was cool. Then on defense, Marin would start screaming NO! NO! NO! NO! whenever an opposing player got into the box. I think she scared the hell out of a few of those kids.

Week 6: Our team had the last game, so there was no other game for Marin to get subbed into. She was looking around the field for another team to play for and everyone was leaving. Marin looked at me and asked "What are we going to do?" I told her we played late today and there are not more games, so let's go home. She said "Well, we're not going home. You stay here and practice with me." So Marin and I kicked goals for another 45 minutes before she was ready to go home.

We are having a ball. Both Marin and Emmy are great kids.

Ethiopia Day at school

2009-05-13T19:03:00.000-07:00

Last week we hosted an exciting event for Marins first grade class. We live in a very non-ethnic place; and even though Marin has been largely welcomed, she is still obviously foreign and not well understood. We talked to her teacher about hosting an Ethiopia culture day which came together like this.

First, for about a half hour, we talked about our experiences in Ethiopia, showed a few photos, and displayed some of the items we brought home from Ethiopia. The kids asked lots of kid questions about climate, language, animals, typical daily activities, etc. They asked about life in a village vs. life in an orphanage. This gave Marin an opportunity to tell her story in her words with the safety of teachers and parents around her.

For recess, we led the class in some of the kids games and dances that they do at HH. Marins friends really enjoyed these.

Then we arranged for the head of the African Culture Museum to come in and present. He is a tribal chief from Nigeria who brought a large collection of ceremonial masks and drums. He told stories about the masks, then let the kids try them on and pose for photos. Then he taught a few drum rhythms and invited students to take turns accompanying him on other drums. The kids were having a ball.

Finally, we wrapped it up with a catered Ethiopian lunch from Asmara Restaurant. FYI, the chicken legs and injera were a smash, but everything else became leftovers (which we are still eating).

Here's the best part, Marin came home from school that day with a big manila envelope full of thank you notes written by each of her classmates. At dinner Marin read every one of them to us. The most common comment was "Ethiopia is so awesome!" and three of the boys asked Marin to be their girlfriend. Then we had to explain to Marin what a girlfriend is. It's a girl you play soccer with or ride bikes with, right?

You tube videos

2009-05-04T17:44:00.000-07:00

People who follow this blog know that we do not have a television, but sometimes as a special treat, we will let the kids watch a few you tube shows. Tonight Marin wanted to see videos posted by people who had traveled in Ethiopia.

While watching these, a serious and sad expression came over Marins' face. I was afraid it was bringing back too many memories. I asked her why she looked sad.

Marin " I just feel so bad for all these poor kids"

Me "Why?

Marin " All their Moms and Dads are dying."

Me "How do you know that?"

Marin "Because they are in Africa. The Moms and Dads always die all the time. That is what African Mommies and Daddies do."

things that scare us

2009-04-26T18:59:00.000-07:00

Every now and then we still get some good nuggets from when the kids first arrived here. Turns out they were afraid of trees and white hair.

Their home area was barren. The only trees they knew were banana trees, which are not tall and do not have long branches. Then the kids saw our trees, so tall, with so many long branches - and when it was windy - the kids thought the branches were trying to reach out and grab them. Looking back, it makes sense why they were afraid to go outside for about three months after arriving here.

They had never seen white hair before. Nobody they knew grew old enough to have grayed. So when they saw white hair, they thought it was a ghost.

Giving Mom a stroke

2009-04-26T18:51:00.000-07:00

A few nights ago Colleen walks into my office and Marin is on my computer. Colleen looks closer and Marin (age 6.5) is on Facebook.

Colleen (horrified): Marin, how did you do that?

Marin (non -plussed) : f-a-c-e-b-o-o-k dot com

I mean, what did Colleen expect Marin to say?

We're just mystified because we thought we had done such a good job of sheltering our kids from the worst America has to offer. For example, our TV has been unplugged and dark for about 30 months. Our kids have never been to a Mall or a movie theater. They don't even know to ask about DisneyWorld. No nintendo, wii, ipod, or cell phone.

And then - boom - facebook. Like who left the back door open?

Sister Tyrhas

2009-04-17T18:56:00.000-07:00

Last week Marins' first grade teacher sent home a memo that she wanted all the students to dress like their role model on Friday 4/17. It would be a class project/ show and tell. We explained to Marin what a role model is and asked who she wanted to be (figuring she would say Hannah Montana or something).

Marin asked to see her scrapbook, turned some pages, and found Tryhas. Marin said "I want to be her. She was my doctor in Ethiopia. She gave me medicine and bandaids. Do you remember her name?"

So we dressed Marin up in a beautiful headscarf, put a little makeup and an ethiopian necklace on her. Then we had the photo of Tyrhas laminated with a brief description of who she is, tied it to a ribbon for Marin to wear around her neck, and sent Marin to school.

Marin was the belle of the ball. Everybody wanted to know who she was and wanted to look at the picture. The teacher even went to get the Principal so Marin could tell her story to him. It was a great day for Marin and the teachers did a wonderful job of reaffirming Marins' heritage for her.

The water hum

2009-04-17T18:46:00.001-07:00

Ever since we met Marin, she always hums when there is moving water.
- washing dishes
- in the bathtub
- rinsing hands
- wetting the toothbrush
- a running hose

It doesn't matter, whenever there is moving water, Marin will hum. Just a soft pleasant monotone hummm.

I've asked her several times what that means or why she does it. She says something like "In Africa we sing when we carry the water."

I was recently reading a National Geographic that described "The Singing Wells of Southern Ethiopia". Apparently, in order to get water, the tribes dig wells deep into the earth, then lower ladders into them, then pass buckets up and down the ladders to get water. The work is very strenuous, so the men often sing in harmony to encourage each other and ward off fatigue.

I'll bet Marin was one of the little kids at the top of the well filling up jugs to take back to the village.

Hamdi

2009-04-08T18:38:00.000-07:00

We found this little East African cafe in town last weekend. Trust me when I tell you this place is pure Africa. I felt transported in time.

The front room is this tiny space with a dirty floor, a couple of tables and a couple of chairs. It is full of men of all ages drinking soft drinks and tea, eating rice and flatbread off a communal plate, and watching English soccer on the TV.

Behind that is a little tiny kitchen in which 4 woman wrapped in layers of robes slaved over a tiny stove.

Behind that is a cleaner dining room where families with children sat. We sat there. It was 3 or 4 men with lots of children. All the men were yapping on their cells in some foreign language, and all the children were silent, staring bug eyed at us. I am the only white person in the place.

Finally, a boy about age 10 approaches Marin and asks her "Is that guy your friend?" nodding toward me. Marin said "No, that's my Dad." The boy scrunched up his face and said "That's weird. His skin is a different color." Whereupon Marin looked at me as if to ask "Now what do I say?"

Nice to meet you, too

2009-04-08T18:32:00.000-07:00

I was away at a business dinner, meeting a new client for the first time. I was seated at the table next to a very stylish woman, younger than me, and we were making ' get to know you' type conversation. One of my best friends, Kevin, was seated on the other side of her.

Denise asked me about my kids, and then how old they are. I told her 6 and 4.

She looked up like she had seen a ghost, nearly spit her wine back into her glass, and blurted "Oh my God. You have a 4 year old?" I'm thinking to myself "Wow, do I look that old?" but I gently said "Yes, and she is wonderful". My friend Kevin was almost passed out from laughing so hard. I don't think Denise realized how horrified she looked because she turned to Kevin and asked "What's so funny?" Then Kevin had to quickly make up a lie so as not to offend Denise.

New Preschool Research

2009-04-08T18:27:00.000-07:00

Colleen really wants to put Emmy in a kindergarden program, so she took the girls to scout out a place the other day. Marin and Emmy were walking around testing out all the toys, and finally Marin approached the owner and said "Excuse me, can I ask you some questions?"

- Will you feed Emmy lunch?
- What about Emmy snacks?
- Can Emmy take a nap when she is cranky?
- Can Emmy go outside for fresh air?
- Do you have a computer here?
- No dogs gonna bite Emmy, right?
- Are your neighbors nice people or bad people?
- Tell me about the other kids in this school?

and on and on and on and on.

When Marin was finally finished, the owner looked at Colleen and asked if she had any questions. Colleen said " I think Marin covered everything."

Marin still thinks she is Emmy's mother.

April Fools Day

2009-04-08T18:08:00.000-07:00

Remember when, as a child, you first learned about April Fools Day? If you were like me (and most kids) you said ridiculous stuff like "There's a chicken on your head" and your Dad said "Oh no! Oh my Gosh!" in mock horror.

Emmy (4 years old) played the most sophisticated tricks on me. She is scary.

First, Emmy talked me into buying a Milky Way bar for her preschool teacher Carla (who happens to love them). When we got home, Colleen pulled the Milky Way from the bag and put it in her purse, probably anticipating that Emmy would eat it before it made its way to Carla. The next morning, we were driving to preschool and Emmy, in her best whiney voice, said "Daddy, we forgot Carla's Milky Way." So I turned around, drove home, ran up the stairs, and tore the house apart looking for this stupid Milky Way. Can't find it. Go back to the car and tell Emmy it must be in Mama's purse and I start to call Colleen on the cell. As I am dialing, Emmy says "Daddy, look in the mirror." And there she is grinning and holding the Milky Way bar. I am about to erupt as she has wasted ten minutes of morning commute time and she says "Daddy, I April fooled you." Just think about the premeditation it took to pull this off. First she stole the Milky Way from Colleens purse and smuggled it to the car without us noticing. Then she waited for the right moment to start whining, because if she waited too long, I would not have turned the car around. Then she maintained composure as I drove like a madman back to the house and ran up the stairs. Then she waited til the very last second, just as Colleen's phone started ringing, to reveal the trick. I am very afraid.

For her next trick. Emmy noticed that whenever I read a magazine, I fold down the corners of the articles I want to keep or send to friends. The day after April Fools, I picked up my Forbes, that I had just finished reading, and found the corner of every single page was folded over, very neatly, at exactly the same angle I fold my pages. I was furious and started yelling for Colleen. Emmy walks by, non-chalantly looks over her shoulder and as she walks away and says "Daddy, that was my April fools trick to you."

Tooth Fairy Part 2

2009-03-18T20:24:00.000-07:00

Poor Emmy. She developed an abscess tooth which required emergency oral surgery for extraction. Colleen and I were beside ourselves thinking about putting our little baby under anesthesia. You know how they scare the hell out of you by telling you "in rare cases, patients do not wake up. And with this child, because there is no medical record, the risk is much higher, so please sign all these papers promising not to sue our asses. " So reassuring.

We spent the evening before the surgery talking Emmy through all the steps and what was going to happen. She awoke the next morning begging for breakfast, but we could not feed her because of the surgery, so we promised to pack her a big snack for after the surgery.

Now at the Doctor office, Emmy was a champ. Very calm and pleasant. The nurses could not believe she is a 4 year old. They said over and over "Four year olds just do not behave this way. She is remarkable." She really is. Emmy has an amazing tolerance for pain.

About to go under, the Doc is holding the mask near Emmy's face and gently wafting the anesthesia toward her nose. He is telling Emmy about the wonderful strawberry smell and how much Emmy will enjoy that. Emmy scrunches up her nose and asks Colleen "What is this stuff?" Colleen says "It's gas." Emmy about fell on the floor laughing. "Gas Mama? It not gas! Gas really stinks. You're tricking me Mama!" and she went on and on like Beavis and Butthead until, like in mid-laugh, she suddenly passed right out.

Surgery successful. Big fat molar extracted. Emmy to recovery.

As Emmy awakes, still super groggy, the Doc shows Emmy to the tooth. Emmy, even though she is cross eyed and silly, doesn't miss a beat and says "Does this mean the tooth fairy will come visit me?"

Our final sledding party

2009-03-18T20:19:00.000-07:00

The snow is disappearing fast. Last Sunday was probably our last sledding day of the season - so we made it a special one.

First, it was almost 60 degrees out, so we let the kids take off their coats, hats, and mittens.

Second, we sled on a golf course, and the clubhouse restaurant had just opened for the season. After sledding, we visited the restaurant for a pizza party.

It was a memorable way to end a wonderful sledding season.