Production, Not Reproduction

Three Beautiful Things #16

2009-11-08T21:46:00.000-08:00

Three beautiful things on a November evening...

Children giggling as they lie down to sleep
A tart sweet warm caramel-ly bite of apple crisp
Kind words in my inbox

What is beautiful in your world today?

EnviroMom Meatless Supper Club: Spicy Black Beans & Rice

2009-11-05T00:40:00.000-08:00

This has been one of Those Weeks. The kind in which just making it to the dinner table at the end of the day feels like an accomplishment. So any meals hav to be (1) fast and (2) made of ingredients already in our pantry or freezer.

Our trusty black beans and rice recipe fit the bill on both counts. You'd probably never serve it guests--it's too ugly for that. But it's warm, comforting, filling and beyond easy to make. The most complicated step is chopping up an onion.

It's really not that spicy, despite its name. I use a minimum of cayenne pepper to keep it kid-friendly. Upping the rice-to-bean mixture ratio also helps if children complain about it being too spicy. But everyone ate it and was happy this time around. It pairs well with a green salad or even just a bowl of baby carrots. We also sometimes substitute cornbread for the rice, just for a change.

But not this week. I am way too tired to make cornbread right now.

Recipe below, plus more meatless meals at EnviroMom...

SPICY BLACK BEANS AND RICE
(from the Better Homes & Gardens New Cookbook)

1/2 c chopped onion (1 medium)
4 cloves garlic, minced
2 T olive oil or cooking oil
1 15 oz can (or 1 3/4 c cooked) black beans, rinsed and drained
1 14.5 oz can Mexican-style stewed tomatoes
1/8 to 1/4 t ground red pepper
2 c hot cooked brown or long grain rice

In a medium saucepan cook the onion and garlic in hot oil till tender but not brown. Carefully stir in beans, undrained tomatoes, and ground red pepper. Bring to boiling, reduce heat. Simmer, uncovered, for 15 minutes.

To serve, mound rice on serving plates; make a well in each mound. Spoon the black bean mixture into wells. If desired, sprinkle with chopped onion, cilantro, and/or sour cream.

Makes 4 main-dish servings.

Open Adoption Roundtable #9

2009-11-04T13:32:00.000-08:00

"We have medical histories and can share the information we have about their birth parents with our children now. If they feel a need to initiate contact with their birth families when they are adults, we will fully support them."

"The decision to have a relationship with her bio family should be hers when she is ready. Creating a relationship between them before she wants it might cause issues in the future."

"Children deserve to have just one family during childhood and not to deal with anything adoption-related until they are more mature. A fully open adoption robs a child of a normal childhood."

These statements are from people participating in closed and semi-open adoptions. I paraphrased them slightly, but left the meanings intact.

The writers share a certain point-of-view: that direct contact during early childhood between birth families and children placed for adoption may not be the best idea. Adopted persons should be free to initiate relationships with their first families--or not--on their own timetable. The parents (first and adoptive) in an adoption shouldn't make such an important and personal decision for them.

What is your response? Do you agree or disagree? Why?

***

Susiebook (first mom) at Endure for a Night: "Your child can’t create familial relationships on his or her own—by leaving it up to the adoptee, you make a relationship impossible at first and then merely difficult, handicapped by the years spent in the dark."

Ginger (first mom) at Puzzle Pieces: "I think when parents say this, they usually mean something like,'We can't decide if openness is good or bad so we just won't decide now. Instead, we'll push these adult decisions off on a child.'"

Elly (adoptive mom): "I get the feeling that too many a-parents who are fixed on a closed or semi-open adoption are doing it because they aren't comfortable with the child's birthfamily. But his (our son's) birthfamily is his family. I don't want him to be afraid to be curious, or interested. Or surprised. Or try to figure out himself how to 'make contact'."

KatjaMichelle (first mom) at Therapy Is Expensive: "All in all adults are uncomfortable with open adoption because its a foreign concept and if we raise our children to view it as an unusual occurance they will be uncomfortable with it as well. If we raise them to know that differences in families are normal, that they have extended family connects that their friends may not, they can grow up embracing all of who they are."

Leigh (first mom) at Sturdy Yet Fragile: "My initial reaction is that I can't disagree entirely with these statements. I think that they represent a fair argument, which is to say that a child may not be mature enough to fully comprehend such complicated relationships as are present in open adoptions. However, from what I've read from several families participating in fully open adoptions, there seems to be an organic level of understanding, and of love, that takes place for the child, even if he or she does not have the adult words or labels to explain those relationships."

Rachel (adoptive mom) at Henry Street: "I truly have some mixed feelings when it comes to full openness, but I would never dismiss it as bad for the kids. Adoption is complicated, period."

Dawn (adoptive mom) at This Woman's Work: "Well, obviously I disagree. And these kinds of arguments drive me crazy."

Valerie (first mom) at From Another Mother: "At first, I'm not really going to have a choice whether [a hypothetical aunt is] in my life--and I'm probably not going to care. However, it's still my choice whether to have a relationship with her. I still get to decide--whether consciously or un--whether I like her or not. My parents may dictate how often I see her as I grow up, but that doesn't mean I'm going to go out of my way to talk to her or bond with her. It's my choice. And as I get older, the choice becomes more and more my own."

Barely Sane (adoptive mom) at Infertility Licks: "Bonds are formed over time. It will take time for MG's birth family and myself to form a relationship that all parties are comfortable with. We need that time now, while MG is still too young to recognize the awkwardness of it."

Luna (adoptive mom) at Life From Here: "To those who say that contact would be confusing for the child, I fail to see how spending time among family would be any more confusing than trying to understand later why your parents never made that option available, if it was possible."

Shmode (adoptive mom) at Frogged Mind: "I do not look down upon those that have decided against open adoption as it is more than just the best interest of the child at stake. I’m sure a lot of people will disagree, but the adoption itself isn’t solely a single individual’s life experience. There are a mass of people surrounding the child that are affected on a daily basis by his or her presence, so you cannot tell me that a serious decision like this should only consider the needs of the child and the child alone and ignore the persons that will surround him in his daily life for years to come."

Lavender Luz (adoptive mom) at Weebles Wobblog: "We do better to normalize our children's adoption from as early as possible. Our children come to us living in a gap between their biology and their biography. The sooner this schism is addressed and the less spread open the cleft is, the more likely it is to heal well and completely. Integration of the two parts of an adopted child's identity should, in my mind, be the responsibility of the decision-makers (parents) from Day 1 with their new child."

Andy (adoptee/adoptive mom) at Today's the Day!: "Mine was a closed adoption, so this is mostly theoretical. But I would have been PISSED if I had found out as an adult that my parents had either known my first family, knew how to contact them or kept them from me in any way."

Sustainable Families (adoptee): "Taking a quick glance over at open adoption research over at the Adoption Institute, we find that their conclusion seems to be that semi-open adoption is in fact, the hardest. Going on adecdotal evidence, I would agree. Semi-open adoptions and open adoptions with limited contact are, I believe, harder for children and biological parents"

Quick Birthday Follow-up

2009-11-02T23:55:00.000-08:00

I forgot to tell you we came home one night last week to a message from Ray saying that he wanted to wish Puppy a happy birthday. Just to close the birth parent birthday loop that I thought was closed but was apparently half-dangling.

It was late, so Todd called him back on another evening. Ray and Puppy had one of those five-sentence conversations before Puppy decided he was done, which is so typical of his phone skills right now. Very charmed by the idea of talking on the phone, not so great with the execution.

My reaction was...neutral, I guess? Relieved a call eventually come, but not so much that it erased my disappointment from two weeks ago. All in all it was rather anti-climatic. But, really, my reaction is quite beside the point. What matters is what kind of building blocks Ray is laying down in his relationship with Puppy right now, and this was one of those. Puppy has been planning his fifth and sixth birthdays since pretty much the minute after this year's party ended. So that idea that someone was calling about the birthday that just went by was a little "huh?" for him. But he bounced up the stairs with with a goofy grin when I asked if he wanted to talk to Ray. And surely that is worth something.

Obligatory Halloween Post-Mortem

2009-11-01T23:55:00.000-08:00

For Halloween, Puppy dressed up as a Holy Crusader and Firefly went as a monkey.

I kid, I kid!

Puppy was a wizard, Firefly was a cat and it was all quite fun. Although Todd tells me the wizard costume would not have flown with his parents during his childhood years. Too evil, apparently. But they actually did dress him as a Crusader one year. The calculus on that one is a little fuzzy for me.

This year was the first time we tried that popular candy swap/fairy/game/bribe thing in which the kid gets a toy in exchange for their candy. Firefly turns into an itchy, miserable mess (or worse) whenever she ingests even a small bit cow's milk right now. That rules out pretty much all Halloween candy involving chocolate or caramel. She didn't give a rip about the candy this year, aside from playing with the crinkly wrappers. But I had visions of future Halloweens with Puppy gloating over his giant haul and her with a sad little pile of Skittles and those awful Smarties (Rockets, for all you Canadians). We thought we'd offer Puppy the choice of trading his stash for a toy, to see if we could get a little pattern going for next year.

I honestly thought it wouldn't work. Who would willingly give up big bag of candy for some little toy? I love me some candy! Especially fun size candy! So tiny and tasty! But Puppy was really excited about the whole idea and woke us up early babbling about the toys that magically appeared in the candy basket overnight. It was like it was Christmas morning. Actually quite fun.

His biggest question was where exactly all the candy had flown off to. I told him his guess was as good as mine.

That may not have been entirely true. (Burp.)

An Adoption Photo

2009-10-29T14:17:00.000-07:00

Football has always been something Ray and Todd shared in common. They were both coaching high school teams the year Puppy was born; I remember Ray coming back to the hospital room late one night after a game (which he and Todd promptly spent the good part of an hour dissecting play by play). Every phone call between them eventually turns to football.

Puppy recognized this commonality early on. Not surprising, given that it's nearly impossible to miss. I think it's important to him as a way he can connect with his two dads at the same time. Footballs and football teams and football shirts and football love are something the three of them can share, an overlapping space all of them can comfortably occupy. They throw the ball around in some fashion every time we get together. He can pick out Ray and Todd's favorite teams on the television and roots for them by color.

This picture is from Ray's visit in August. Football was a major theme of the visit. The three of them tossed a ball around in the yard more than once and went to one of Todd's practices together. On this evening, a pajama-ed Puppy had toddled over to where Ray and Todd were talking with this helmet in his hands. I love the symmetry in Ray and Todd as they gaze at Puppy, they way they share the same tilt of the head, the same proud smiles.

I treasure this picture because it reminds me that, as bittersweet as it sometimes is, open adoption makes this sort of overlap possible and real. It's not just us telling Puppy that his birth dad likes football, too. It's him experiencing that for himself, seeing the similarities and differences between his fathers, watching them enjoy each other as peers.

(I'm password protecting the picture because I'm shy like that, but just contact me for the secret code if you don't have it already.)

Enter password to show picture

See other entries in the latest GIMH Adoption Carnival here...

EnviroMom Meatless Supper Club: Autumn in a Squash Bowl

2009-10-28T23:54:00.000-07:00

I feel like a big cheater this week. First I took a perfectly good recipe that called for tofu and made it with chicken instead. And now I'm giving you a favorite recipe for stuffed acorn squash that's only meatless because I swapped in a fake meat substitute (in this case, faux sausage).

I'm not sure how I feel about things masquerading as meats. We eat them semi-regularly: Morningstar "chicken" nuggets, Boca burgers and such. They're almost always lower in fat and calories than the real thing. And the enviromental impact of growing items like soybeans and mushrooms is smaller than growing a cow or pig. But then you factor in all the processing and added ingredients...and they always come in so much packaging...like I said, I'm torn.

(While we're on the subject of cheating, I do have a quick tip for faking spaghetti with meat sauce. You can swap out the ground beef for bulgur--1 cup dry bulgur for every 1 pound of meat. Add 1 cup boiling water--or beef stock for more flavor--to 1 cup bulgur, cover and let sit for several minutes. Very similar texture but more fiber, less fat, less money. It works in soups, too.)

Enough guilt. Back to the stuffed squash. I love this meal. The combination of the squash, sausage, cranberries, apples and pecans just captures autumn perfectly. It's pretty enough to serve to guests (it looks more impressive in real life than in my picture) and not very hard to make. And it's a dinner recipe made with maple syrup. How can it go wrong?

The results: Everyone ate it! Whoo! I fully expected the four-year old to turn up his nose, but he was chowing down. Maybe it was the novelty of the little squash bowl? I wasn't about to question it. Four year olds--who can understand them?

The verdict: The change to the faux sausage in this recipe is one we'll keep. It's healthier without the pork and it didn't change the favor or texture of the dish at all.

Recipe below the jump, plus more meatless meals at EnviroMom...

STUFFED ACORN SQUASH
(Very slightly modified from a Sunset recipe)

2 acorn squash (about 1 1/2 lb. each), rinsed
8 oz. bulk ground sausage substitute (we used Gimme Lean)
1/2 c chopped onion
2 sweet apples such as Fuji (1 lb. total), peeled, cored, and chopped
1/2 c dried cranberries
1/4 t dried thyme
3 T chopped pecans
1/4 c maple syrup

Cut each squash in half crosswise; scoop out seeds. Cut a thin slice off the bottom of each half so it can stand upright. Place each half, cavity side down, in a 9- by 13-inch baking pan and cover pan tightly with foil. Bake in a 350° regular or convection oven until tender when pierced, 45 to 60 minutes.

Meanwhile, in a 10- to 12-inch nonstick frying pan over medium-high heat, stir sausage until it is crumbly and just slightly pink, about 5 minutes. Drain off and discard fat. [Note: the fake sausage doesn't really generate fat to drain off.] Add onion, apples, cranberries, and thyme; stir often until apples are tender when pierced, 8 to 10 minutes. Stir in pecans.

Uncover squash and turn halves upright; fill equally with sausage mixture. Drizzle equally with maple syrup and bake, uncovered, until filling is slightly browned on top, about 15 minutes longer.

Little Church

2009-10-25T23:56:00.000-07:00

Today was a Little Church day, a Sunday we worshiped at the AME Zion church in town. We've been alternating weeks between that congregation and (what used to be) our usual church since mid-summer. Puppy dubbed them Big Church and Little Church based on the size of their buildings, but I'll bet most adults observing the two would think of them as "white church" and "black church."

There is an imbalance right now in our involvement between the two churches, since we've got a couple years' head start at Big Church. But our goal, in the near-term at least, is to be equally invested at them both. It's important to us that the kids see us parents giving and receiving instead of merely attending--especially at Little Church, so they can know that we're there because it's important to us, too, and not just for Firefly's sake. It's been slow-going. Todd joined a men's breakfast one weekend and bonded with a couple guys in that way he has. He has helped out in kids' church. We went to the big annual church picnic, where I got to know the family of a little girl Firefly's age and Todd somehow managed to inspire a giant game of football. We've started to learn people's names and have conversations that go beyond banal pleasantries--small things, but ones that feel like a big deal when you're getting to know a new community. Todd and I attended a fundraiser on Saturday for a local group researching the history of African-American pioneers in our state. We'd been to their events before, but this was the first time we've walked in and been able to greet people we knew. It feels like our baby steps venturing out are beginning to pay off in small ways.

There is a certain self-consciousness walking into a black church that first time as white parents with a black child in your arms, at least for me. It's easy to convince myself that everyone is looking at us and thinking that we're only there because of Firefly. But that was more or less true in the beginning, so I figured I might as well own it. And the members have been nothing but welcoming of our whole family. Not that I expected them to not be rude, but it really is a particularly warm congregation. (I've visited umpteen churches in my day, so I've got some basis for comparison.) Smaller churches often are.

We received an extra dose of that warmth today after the service. A woman came down the aisle as we were working to gather our things and hungry children. I apologized for the lot of us blocking her way and moved aside. "Oh, no," she said. "I actually came to talk to you."

She looked like she was in her mid- to late-forties. "I'm biracial," she continued, after we exchanged names. "My mom raised three of us biracial kids on her own. I've seen you here a few times now and I wanted to ask if you had any questions about how to do [Firefly's] hair. I know how hard it was for my mom."

She did a quick look and touch appraisal of Firefly's curls and deemed them well-tended (whoo). She quizzed me on a few of the basics of care and combing, I think mostly to make sure I wasn't torturing poor Firefly. We laughed about the total paradigm shift it is for women with fine, straight hair like mine (and her mom's) to deliberately work oil into hair.

We talked briefly about some of the tensions she felt growing up and what it's been like for her to live in our predominately white city. "Please, if there is ever any piece of advice or comment you'd like to say to us, feel free to just put it out there," I told her. "We won't be offended. We need people to tell us what we're doing wrong."

"I don't think it's a matter of right and wrong," she answered. "Maybe better and worse. What's most important is that love is underneath it all. I've watched you and it seems like you've got that part right. I just wanted to let you know I'm here. I've thought a lot about my experience growing up biracial and I feel like it's my mission to do something with that."

What a gift, you know? This woman saw Firefly and felt a kinship, and wanted to love on her by offering up her own experience and making sure we had our basic act together. She certainly didn't have to do that, but she chose to, and that means so much to me.

There is no grand point to this post, and I hope it doesn't come across like I'm patting us on the back. Lord knows we haven't earned the right to do that yet. These are teeny tiny steps we're taking, but ones that feel increasingly right.

Enviromom Meatless Supper Club: Pad Thai

2009-10-21T23:55:00.000-07:00

I had a hard time deciding what to post this week, because we actually lucked out with a string of tasty vegetarian dinners. (I think my family got a little tired of me taking pictures of our food.) So I'm going with the one that was a surprise to us and saving my all-time favorite autumn meal for next time.

When I came across this pad thai recipe awhile back, I was reluctant to try it. Pad thai conjures up memories of fun late night food runs with roommates and relaxed meals out with my husband during the childless days of our marriage. I didn't want to ruin those associations with some bad homemade attempt. But the point of this EnviroMom project for me was to try new vegetarian recipes, so we plunged ahead.

The results: My husband and I were both pleasantly surprised by how good it was. The sauce was flavorful without being too powerful, with just the right tang from the lemon lime juice. The eggs and peanuts made it a filling meal. It probably took about 30-40 minutes to prepare, from start to finish.

The four-year old flat out refused to eat it. We tried calling it Peanut Noodles, but no dice. He's just determined not to like anything new right now. The one-year old, on the other hand, liked it so much it was almost disturbing. She kept stuffing noodles into her mouth and frantically signing, "More, more, more, please, please, more!"

The verdict: Definite keeper. I'm already craving it again.

Recipe below the jump, plus more meatless meal ideas at EnviroMom...

PAD THAI
(from the never disappointing Moosewood Restaurant Cooks at Home)

3/4 lb. mung bean sprouts
6 oz. rice noodles (1/4 in. wide) [I found them at Safeway. Trader Joes also carries them.]

Sauce
3 T fresh lime juice
3 T catsup
1 T brown sugar
1/4 c fish sauce or soy sauce [We used soy.]

3 T peanut oil or vegetable oil [We used peanut.]
3-4 garlic cloves, minced or pressed
1 T minced fresh chile or 1.5 t crushed red pepper flakes
2 c grated carrots
4 large eggs, lightly beaten with a pinch of salt
2/3 c chopped peanuts
6-8 scallions, chopped (about 1 cup) [We used green onions.]

In a covered pot, bring 2 quarts water to a rolling boil. Blanch the mung bean sprouts by placing them in a strainer or small colander and dipping it into the boiling water for 30 seconds. Set aside to drain well. When the water returns to a boil, stir in the rice noodles and cook for 3 to 5 minutes, until tender but firm. Drain the cooked noodles, rinse them under cool water and set them aside to drain well. Meanwhile, in a small bowl, mix together the sauce ingredients.

Prepare the remaining ingredients and have them near at hand before you begin to stir-fry. Heat the oil in a wok or large skillet. Add the garlic and chile, swirl them in the oil for a moment, and stir in the grated carrots. Stir-fry for 1 minute. Push the carrots to the sides to make a hollow in the center. Pour the beaten eggs into the center and quickly scramble them. When the eggs have just set, pour in the sauce mixture and stir everything together. Add the drained rice noodles and mung sprouts, and toss to distribute evenly. Stir in the peanuts and scallions, and serve at once.

Makes 4 servings.

Open Adoption Roundtable #8

2009-10-20T23:55:00.000-07:00

The Open Adoption Roundtable is a series of occasional writing prompts about open adoption. It's designed to showcase of the diversity of thought and experience in the open adoption community. You don't need to be part of the Open Adoption Bloggers list to participate, or even be in a traditional open adoption. If you're thinking about openness in adoption, you have a place at the table.

Publish your response during the next two weeks--linking back here so we can all find one other--and leave a link to your post in the comments. If you don't blog, you can always leave your thoughts directly in the comments.

One common thread running through the last batch of roundtable posts was that, even though balancing privacy concerns can be challenging, we keep blogging about adoption because the connections we make are worth the challenges.

Blogging at its best is a conversation. An interaction between writers and readers who comment or even just mull over a post long after reading it. A paper journal gives you privacy, but it can never challenge your ideas or give you insight into another perspective. It never offers support in a difficult moment. Blogging--or rather, the people reading and writing those blogs--can.

There are people inside my computer--strangers--whose words have made a difference in my family's adoptions. That probably sounds nutty to those outside the blog world, but it's true. And I bet the same is true for many of you. In this round, I thought it would be interesting to recognize some of those people. Because I bet a lot of those folks don't even realize the effect they've had on us.

Write about a blogger (or bloggers) who influenced your real-life open adoption, and how. It might be someone who became an offline friend who supports and challenges you. Or a writer who makes you uncomfortable, but gets you thinking. Maybe a blogger who doesn't even know you are reading. Tell us about them and how they've affected you.

***

Adoptive mom Jenn Mc says Thanksgivingmom made her more aware of her own actions toward her child's birth mom.

Prospective adoptive parent Prabha at Baby Steps to a Baby Dream tells how stumbling onto Clio in an internet search completely changed her mind about open adoption.

Prospective adoptive parent Thorn at Mother Issues describes how an encounter with Dawn's family changed her partner's view of her decades-old adoption.

Adoptive mom Spyderkl at Evil Mommy shares how her friendship with Barb of Cigarettes and Coffee helped her keep the door open, even when it seemed like no one walked through it.

Adoptive mom Cynthia at In the Night Kitchen recalls turning to the internet to help her get over her fears--and finding This Woman's Work.

Adoptive mom Rredhead at the Adoption.com Open Adoption Blog rounds up her favorite first mom and adoptive mom blogs, plus two group blogs.

First mom Ginger of Puzzle Pieces finds parallels between her oldest daughter and Madison, insight into the adoption process at Hoping for Another Little One and Parenthood Path, and an example of the sort of cooperation open adoption requires at The Great Surro Adventure.

First mom Amstel of Amstel Life shares some of her favorite positive adoption blogs, while noting that it's the writers opposed to adoption who have forced her to really come to terms with the "what ifs."

First mom Leigh at Sturdy Yet Fragile tells how blogs like Weebles Wobblog and Parenthood Path allowed her to see adoptive parents as people and take a chance with her daughter's adoptive parents.

First mom Thanksgivingmom of I Should Really Be Working shares how the words and support of Coco at Mommyhood and Life help her make sense of her own situation.

Adoptive mom and adopted adult Andy at Today's the Day! says writers like M de P, Thanksgivingmom, Jenna and Dawn have helped her cope with the limbo of her family's lopsided adoptions.

First mom and adopted adult Valerie of From Another Mother is inspired by the advocacy of The R House.

Adoptive mom Barely Sane at Infertility Licks says the blogs of first moms like Brown, Thanksgivingmom and Valerie showed her new, practical ways to communicate with her daughter's first family.

Prospective adoptive parent Amy of Beanie Baby Blog says blogs like Heart Cries, Infertility Licks and Amstel Life have her rethinking their thus far conservative approach to open adoption..

First mom Susiebook at Endure for a Night appreciates the insight This Woman's Work gives her into adoptive parents, credits I Should Really Be Working with grounding her in the midst of her grief, and sees herself in The Happiest Sad.

Prospective adoptive parent Jacksmom at Hoping for Another Little One appreciates Ginger's honest appraisals of her very different open adoptions, my stories of thinking through adoption in our home, and being able to share in the growth of Luna's open adoption relationship from its beginnings.

Adoptive mom Lassie at Eggs Benedict Arnold shares how vital it has been for her to face up to the hard truths found in Not Mother.

Adopted adult Anonadoptee at The Adopted Feminist envisions being one of the first to have grown up in an open adoption to use her experience to support others--and generously opens herself up to questions.

Adoptive parent Sharon at What Else Do We Need? writes about the importance of finding a kindred spirit in Dawn.

Adoptive parent Momosapien joins the (well-deserved) Dawn love train, noting how much she's learned about creating space for conflicting emotions.

Settle an Argument

2009-10-19T12:41:00.000-07:00

A question for you, based on a recent conversation in which someone may or may not have been accused of being a curmudgeon:

Let's imagine there is a blog you enjoy that's built around a certain topic or theme. That topic is what drew you to the blog in the first place--you loved the recipes with their gorgeous photos, say, or reading about what it's like to live in a wee log cabin on a mountaintop.

Now the blogger, whether from boredom or distraction, is veering off topic. The recipe blogger writes about politics and her new kitten. The log cabin dweller offers movie reviews.

A blogger can write about whatever she likes in her own space, of course. But how do you react as a reader? Are you annoyed or bored by the shift? Do you keep happily reading?

Feel free to explain your vote in the comments.

ETA: Forgot to mention that the actual question at hand was is it better to post frequently and give visitors fresh content, even if it's off-topic, or post infrequently but have a clear theme.

A Chicken in Every Pot!

2009-10-18T12:39:00.000-07:00

Six reasons I'm voting for This Woman's Work over at The Bump's Best Adoption Blog contest:

Dawn started writing about adoption in 2002. In blog years, she's way overdue for a Lifetime Achievement Award.
She gives of her own time and money to run Open Adoption Support, so that those of us in open adoptions can have a safe place to give and receive help.
Her writing kicks ass.
If she's named the overall best blog, she'll donate the $1,000 prize to Ethica, an independent group doing great advocacy work on behalf adoptees, children in care, first parents and adoptive families. They're a rare jewel in the adoption world.
For once I'd like to see this sort of messy adoption narrative get mainstream recognition (and The Bump practically defines "mainstream"). I don't think she knows this, but waaay back in the day, reading Dawn's blog made me really defensive. I was wholly invested in the idea that there was a Right Way to do adoption that could make it positive for everyone involved, and that there were black-and-white distinctions between birth parents and adoptive parents and their place in an adopted child's life. Everything I heard from Agency #1 or was reading reinforced that. But here was this adoptive mom who was totally my kind of people in her parenting and politics and feminism, with an adoption that looked a lot like ours on its face. And she was arguing that there is actually a whole lot of grey--advocating for openness while pointing out that it doesn't make everything better, pushing at the boundaries of my ideas about everything from naming to sharing motherhood to revocation periods. It took awhile sitting with those thoughts--and experiencing the reality of our own family's adoption--but eventually my own ideas became more nuanced and flexible. And I really think I'm a better adoptive parent and open adoption participant for it (although heaven knows I still have a ways to go). I can't help but wish that voices like hers were out in the mainstream where I could have stumbled easily across them in the vey beginning.
If she wins, adoption blog trolls will disappear.*

So, please vote (many, many times) before 11:59 PM EST Monday!

* What? You've never heard an impossible campaign promise before?

If Only

2009-10-15T03:32:00.000-07:00

Nothing.

This is parenting in a nutshell, isn't it? Bearing witness to the hard and to the good in our children's lives and not being able to do a damned thing but be present with them in the middle of it.

Back when we were hashing out the details of our open adoption agreement with Beth, I was thinking a lot about things I wished we had done differently in our first adoption. I got fixated on this idea that the agreement needed to somehow reflect the fact that child centered open adoption is a two-way street. (Which morphs into a multi-lane intersection as the child grows up.) I didn't want the agreement to only be about protecting Beth's rights to visitation and communication, as important as those things were. I wanted her commitment to stay in Firefly's life written down the same way as our promises.

Todd and I decided that, worst case scenario, we hoped Firefly would at least hear from Beth on her birthday and at Christmas. Nothing like that was in the agency's standard agreement template, so we asked them to add it. And there it now sits, in sparse legal-ish language, right after our promise to let Firefly to send and receive communication from Beth: "Beth agrees to provide the child with a letter at least two times a year."

As it turns out, Beth is the type who not only never fails to have a present at appropriate points for Firefly, but brings one for Puppy, too. Even so, that one stupid sentence relieves me of a lot of worry. Not that we'd ever actually haul Beth into mediation if she missed a few birthday cards. But at least I'd be able to say, "Hey, you promised."

I suppose it's obvious why I'm thinking about that tonight.

EnviroMom Meatless Supper Club: Ridiculously Healthy Crockpot Burritos

2009-10-14T01:42:00.000-07:00

The weather turned deliciously cool this week I'm wearing my fleece, watching the leaves change color and breaking out the crockpot again. Love it.

This week we pulled out an old favorite, a black bean/barley/corn/tomato burrito mix made in the slow cooker. Low-fat, full of protein and fiber, and nicely flavorful. It makes a ton of food, so you can serve a crowd on the cheap or put half in the freezer for another week.And it only takes about ten minutes to put it all in the crockpot. (It cooks for around four hours.) Totally my kind of meal.

The results: My husband, daughter and I all gobbled it up. It has a wee hint of spice, so I wondered if the toddler would like it, but it didn't phase her at all. (She ate her burrito deconstructed, with the tortilla on the side.) My son decided the burrito mix was too jumbled up for his tastes this time (sigh) and filled his tortilla with cheese and sour cream. Frankly, at this point I 'm considering that a success with him. His tastes are terribly fickle lately, but as long as he's polite about it, I'm letting it go. Serenity now, etc.

The verdict: Total winner.

Recipe after the jump, plus check out more meatless dinner ideas over at EnviroMom...

BARLEY, BLACK BEAN & CORN BURRITOS
(adapted from In Good Time)

1 can black beans, rinsed and drained
1 10-oz. can diced tomatoes with green chilies, undrained
1 c uncooked fine barley
2 c chicken broth (or vegetable broth, for a truly meatless meal)
3/4 c frozen corn
1/4 c chopped green onions
1 T lime juice
1 t ground cumin
1 t chili powder
1/2 t cayenne pepper
1 garlic clove, minced
1/4 c chopped fresh cilantro
18 6.5" whole wheat tortillas
Optional: salsa, cheddar cheese, lettuce, sour cream

Place first 11 ingredients (beans through garlic) in a 3- to 4-qt. slow cooker; stir well. Cover with lid; cook on low-heat setting 4 to 5 hours or until barley is tender and liquid is absorbed. Stir in cilantro.

An official serving is two burritos, with 1/3 c. barley mixture per burrito, but we just eyeball it. Add salsa, cheese, lettuce, sour cream, etc. as desired.

Makes 9 servings.

Waiting, Watching, Hoping

2009-10-13T03:44:00.000-07:00

There is just one link left in the paper chain hanging in Puppy's bedroom. We've taken a link off every night for over eighty nights, counting down the days until his birthday. We made the chain nearly three months ago to try to channel some of the constant birthday talk that was already coming from the little guy. This birthday is a Very Big Deal. The source of much planning and enthusiasm. He could barely stay in bed tonight, so wriggly with excitement was he at the thought that his birthday was only one more day away.

Meanwhile I am busy prepping decorations and designing cakes. Wrapping presents and planning parties. And holding my breath to see if this year his first parents will remember him.

"Remember him" isn't the right phrase to use, I know. I shouldn't question that. Of course they will think of him on Wednesday; I'm sure they could never forget him any day, much less his birthday. But when a birthday or holiday passes with no card or gift or phone call, forgetting is how it seems to come across to Puppy, a little boy for whom it's so very important to know that people miss him.

Some years either Kelly or Ray will call but not the other. One year Kelly was here in person. Once there was an unwrapped box, delivered two months late, with an unsigned card and its envelope tossed in the bottom. Christmas has been even more spotty.

Part of me understands, or tries to. People can be busy. First parents have told me that birthdays and holidays can be difficult, as painful emotions and events are revisited. Maybe they think he is too young to care, although we've said as explicitly as we can that acknowledging his birthday seems to be more significant to him than anything aside from visits. But another part of me, the protective parental part, struggles when faced with a crestfallen child who sees all his other far-away relatives reaching out to him on birthdays and at Christmas, and notices who is missing. Notices and asks why. Asks me, who has no good answers.

I know not every child notices the way Puppy does, or as young as he started to. Firefly is closing in on her second birthday and couldn't care less about gifts or who they are from (she chooses to see everything in the world as hers for the taking). But not Puppy. As soon as he began speaking, he could tell you who gave him a certain item. He remembers long after I've forgotten something was even a gift. He thrills at mail addressed to him. He keeps his birthday cards in a special cabinet and looks through them from time to time.

We're only on our fourth birthday. I keep telling myself that. There is time for new patterns, for these few years to just be a blip. I'm trying to be hopeful. I'm trying really hard. And also thinking about how I'll talk with him this year if nothing comes.

Boundaries

2009-10-09T14:38:00.000-07:00

My own contribution to the privacy roundtable (insert usual disclaimer that these are boundaries I've set for myself personally and not commentary on choices anyone else has made)...

As far as I know, no one I talk to face-to-face--save Todd and online friends I've met in person--knows about this blog. (If you do, please tell me.) I told Kelly and Beth about it a long time ago, without specifics, and both more or less shrugged. One is barely online at all, much less reading blogs. The other is part of a social group that regularly spills its secrets all over the internet, so she didn't really care. I've nicknamed some people and stayed vague about our location to keep away anyone Google-ing our family.

Even though I hide my blog away, I've always written with the assumption that everyone I know will one day read it. Realistically, I know it's highly improbable that everyone will read it. But the fact is that one day someone--probably one of the people I most hope won't--will stumble across it somehow. So I choose to write as if everyone will.

That influences my writing pretty significantly. I've had the experience of discovering blog posts written about me. It stung, and it changed my relationship with the author. To me, there is no sort of public writing worth harming relationships. Especially not relationships with the children's families of origin. I can't quite imagine explaining to them one day that we're estranged from their first family because of a blog.

First, I try not to write about any issue, disappointment or frustration unless the other person is already aware of it. I don't want someone to be completely blindsided.

Second, I try to portray people as generously as I can. I'm keenly aware that I've got a monopoly on this space. It's important to me to write about my children's first families, because I want them to be real people to all of you. So I give folks the benefit of the doubt and then some. Sometimes when I know I've got a lot of emotion surrounding a particular person or interaction, I'll ask Todd to read a post before I publish it, to make sure I'm not being unfair.

Third, I do my best to speak about my kids and their first families, not for them. I try not to make assumptions about what they're thinking, and qualify my words when I do. I use the kids' own words when I'm writing about them processing their adoptions. I don't get into quicksand areas like why Puppy and Firefly were placed. And if I can make my point without using a detail from their lives, then I leave out that bit of information. No one reading here needs to know, for example, the play-by-play of Puppy or Firefly's births. I can write about what those days were like for me without including those things.

Finally, I keep many adoption-related moments, both big and small, happy and difficult, to myself. The kids are still too little to remember much of this time of their lives. The first time I tell them certain stories, I don't want to know that I shared them with the internet first. Nor do I want them to feel, years from now, that I put the entirety of their adoption stories out for public consumption.

All this means that there are many things I don't share, both good and bad. Right now there is more that you don't know about our open adoptions than you do, simply because I haven't found ways to write about them that feel fair. There are gaping holes on this blog from this past year, especially. Things that have been happening with Firefly's birth father. The effects of Puppy's sister's birth and everything that led up to it. Changes in our relationship with Kelly.

This semi-private space gives me an outlet and means of emotional support in our adoptions that I wouldn't have otherwise. That has been so, so important to me. But assuming it will not always be private means it has not been as catharic or helpful (or interesting) as it possibly could be. That's often deeply frustrating. So many times I've wanted to come here and shake my fist, work through a sadness, or seek advice. I envy people with the guts to write openly and honestly about their lives, with full knowledge of family and friends. But, for now, that is not me. I can always become more open. It is hard to go the opposite way.

EnviroMom Meatless Supper Club: A Vegan Risotto

2009-10-07T23:50:00.000-07:00

I love risotto. Creamy, cheesy rice--what's not to like? Unless you have a dairy allergic kid, in which case it's off the menu. So I was intrigued by this meatless, dairy-free risotto recipe that promised all the creaminess without the cheese. It was from a Moosewood Collective cookbook that has rarely steered me wrong. (If I ever make a life list, eating at the Moosewood Restaurant will be on it.)

The results: It took about 30 minutes to make, from start to finish. We ate this meal twice, once fresh and once as leftovers, with a garden salad. Both times my husband and I agreed that we liked the dish--both flavor and texture--but it wasn't super filling. Our toddler thought it was great. Our preschooler took one bite and decided he didn't like it. The taste was pretty mild, so I don't think there would be anything I could change in the recipe to make it more palatable. He's just in a phase where he doesn't like his foods all jumbled up together.

The verdict: I'll keep this one in mind for when I need something fairly quick and easy, but it probably won't go into regular rotation. At least not as a main dish. Tasty, but not satisfying enough to be the star of the meal.

Recipe below the jump, plus check out the other Supper Club participants' recipes over at EnviroMom...

MIDSUMMER RISOTTO
(from Moosewood Restaurant Low-fat Favorites)

Ingredients:
2 c tomato juice (can replace up to 1/2 c with white wine)
3 c water or vegetable stock
1 vegetable bouillon cube
3 c fresh or frozen corn kernels
1 c minced onions
2 t olive oil
1.5 c arborio rice
2 c diced zucchini
1 t salt
1 c chopped tomatoes
2 T chopped fresh basil
ground black pepper to taste

Cooking instructions:
Combine the tomato juice, water or stock, and bouillon cube in a pot and bring to a simmer. Transfer 1 cup of the broth to a blender, add 1.5 cups of the corn, and purée until smooth. Stir the puréed corn into the simmering broth. Set aside the remaining corn kernels.

In a separate, heavy saucepan, preferably nonstick, combine the onions and the oil and sauté for about 5 minutes, until softened. Reduce the heat to medium-low. Add the rice, stirring with a wooden spoon to avoid breaking the grains, until the rice is coated with oil.

Ladle about a cup of the broth into the rice and stir constantly for several minutes, until the liquid has been absorbed. Add the zucchini and another cup of broth. Continue to stir frequently, adding a cup of broth every few minutes for the next 15 minutes, until all of the broth has been added and the rice is tender and firm. Add the reserved corn, the salt, tomatoes, basil and pepper to taste. Cook for another minute or so and serve immediately.

Makes 4-6 generous portions.

For Your Amusement and Inspiration

2009-10-05T01:05:00.000-07:00

I recently discovered that my 96 year old grandmother carries a subscription to Vogue.

This? Is about seven different kinds of awesome. (And I say that as someone who doesn't even like fashion magazines!)

Open Adoption Roundtable #7

2009-10-03T01:36:00.000-07:00

The Open Adoption Roundtable is a series of occasional writing prompts about open adoption. It's designed to showcase of the diversity of thought and experience in the open adoption community. You don't need to be part of the Open Adoption Bloggers list to participate, or even be in a traditional open adoption. If you're thinking about openness in adoption, you have a place at the table.

Publish your response during the next two weeks--linking back here so we can all find one other--and leave a link to your post in the comments. If you don't blog, you can always leave your thoughts directly in the comments.

I don't know how this happened, but it's been over a month since our last roundtable. Yikes! September went by faster than I thought. Let's get back to business, shall we?

This round's topic was suggested by adoptive parent blogger Rebecca: privacy, blogging and open adoption. Figuring out boundaries is difficult when you write about your personal life. Any on-blog mention of family, friends or co-workers risks invading their privacy. Bloggers who write about or post pictures of their children are accused of exploitation. Where is the line between your own experience and other people's personal lives? What information is yours to share and what rightfully belongs to someone else?

Add the overlapping relationships of open adoption to the mix and you've got yourself a potential ethical and personal mess. And yet it's impossible to talk about one's open adoption experience without mentioning the people involved. Where do you draw the lines--on your blog and in your personal life--and why? What, if anything, don't you tell?

***

First mom Ginger at Puzzle Pieces: "I write knowing that the world could be reading."

Adoptive mom Spyderkl at Evil Mommy: "The only thing I care about is that nothing happens to my family because of what I’ve written. It’s so much more difficult in an open adoption, when there are other people not actually living with you who are directly affected by what you might say. It’s caused me to want to stop blogging altogether several times."

First mom SJ at From the Mind of a Bmom: "Part of how I cope is letting my moments of grief and times of joy be useful or encouraging to others. If I change the life of only one person by writing about my experiences then this is worth it (I know that is cliche!)."

First mom Valerie at From Another Mother: "I guess that's the measure I hold to, then--the adoptive mother's level of comfort. Because she is his mother, I think she has the right to decide (even implicitly) what level of privacy we'll all hold to."

First mom Thanksgivingmom at I Should Really Be Working: "At the risk of rambling, I wonder if we – on both 'parental' sides of the triad – relinquish some right to 'possess' our stories…"

First mom susie_book at Endure for a Night: "My adult compromise is to say everything–but not to everyone. My blog is a place for me to say everything without hurting anyone, which seems to me like the best of all possible worlds."

Adoptive mom Tracey at Grace Comes By Hearing: "My blog started out as an extension of my journal that I have kept since I was 12."

Adoptive mom Barely Sane at Infertility Licks: "I don't think it's right that folks out in cyberspace get to know all about my life and those that really should be privy to the information are left out."

Prospective adoptive parent A at A+A Adopt a Baby: "...I don't feel the need to be anonymous on the Internet. I find writing here to be an interesting personal discipline and a helpful place to express myself, developing a public life that is authentic, open, and honest without sharing what is actually private."

Prospective adoptive parent Prabha at Baby Steps to a Baby Dream: "To me, the web is unlike the real world. We have to be careful about the footprints we leave for they can live on in perpetuity."

Adoptive mom Shmode at Random Musings of a Frogged Mind: "I can’t. I can’t seriously post a single thing about her, or our, situation that would in any way harm her."

Adoptive mom Luna at Life From Here: "I feel the need to be authentic in telling my own story, but this must be balanced with the need to protect my family, including Baby J and her family of origin."

Adoptive mom Lavonne at Eyes Wide Open: "To keep everything to ourselves creates more suspicion and mystery about adoption than needed. And as it is, there are already too many adoption related myths that we need to work to debunk."

Adoptive mom Heather at Production, Not Reproduction: "Even though I hide my blog away, I've always written with the assumption that everyone I know will one day read it."

Prospective adoptive parent Linda at Karlinda: "If we continue to write any form of ‘open’ open adoption blog, you may well find you don’t recognise us."

Prospective adoptive parent Thorn at Mother Issues: "So am I blogging from the closet? Are we out here? I guess my answer would be that we’re out as much as we need to be. "

Oops, God Did It Again

2009-09-30T09:28:00.000-07:00

Probably everyone by now has heard about the inept fertility clinic which transferred another couple's embryos into a woman, forcing her to choose between becoming an unintentional gestational surrogate or terminating the pregnancy. (She chose to continue the pregnancy and the resulting baby boy was handed to his genetic parents at birth.) Just a pretty crappy situation all the way around. Most coverage I've seen agrees that (a) both families deserve a lot of sympathy and (b) the people running that clinic are idiots..

Every time I come across a headline about this mix-up, my mind jumps to adoption. The story fits best under the category of surrogacy on a technical level, but it's impossible for me to not read it through my adoption lens, because the intention of surrogacy was never there. Relinquishing a child was the furthest thing from this couple's mind heading into this pregnancy; it was a decision forced by crisis. (The crisis here being the clinic's inexcusable mix-up.) I hear such parallels of adoption loss in the interview with the couple linked above.

[T]he Savages say that the memory of the child they gave up will always linger. 'I know that tug will be there every day wondering if the baby's happy, healthy and OK," said Carolyn.

"We want him to know that it wasn't that we didn't want him, but too many people wanted him," said Sean.

Even more, it brings to mind those who try to explain adoption to children by chalking it all up to divine/cosmic will. As if a child's time with her first parents, however short, was only an unfortunate detour on the way to her ultimate destination, the family she was actually meant to be in. Perhaps most crassly summed up by Rosie O'Donnell's infamous comment that her adopted children "grew in the wrong tummy, but God fixed that." As if convincing children (and ourselves) that we have some retroactive claim to parenthood helps make sense of the complicated fact of their relinquishment.

I suppose I hope that this example of a baby who really did end up in the "wrong tummy" can help people see how the "meant to be" narrative simply can't encompass the entirety of someone's adoption story. How little room it leaves for those adoptees who want to consider the "what-ifs" or explore what it means to them to have two families. How much it diminishes the very real contribution birth parents make to adoptees' identities--even if there is no contact and that contribution is "only" genetic. If we can recognize the fuzzy emotional lines in the Savages' situation, how much more should we see how blurred the lines are in adoption. To honor my adopted children, I have to honor all of who they are. I personally can't reconcile that with saying that they may have grown in their birth moms' uteruses, but God knew they were really mine all along. They weren't in the wrong tummies, because if they had been in any other tummies they wouldn't be the Puppy and Firefly I know and love. Their first parents weren't God's unwitting surrogates and sperm donors.

If only we could find ways to talk about adoption and the ineffable mysteries of God's will without reducing God to an incompetant fertility doctor.

EnviroMom Meatless Supper Club: Northwest Vegetarian Chili

2009-09-27T23:55:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite online reads is EnviroMom, a blog by two Pacific Northwest women about the little and big steps they're taking to green their daily lives. On more than one occasion they've gotten me re-thinking my usual approach to something (like birthday parties).

Now EnviroMom has gathered a group of bloggers (including me!) who will post once a week for eight weeks about a meatless dinner our families ate--or, rather, whether they ate it. Todd and I have tried to do vegetarian dinners several nights a week for years now, a decision tied up in a lot of intersecting values, including living simply (sometimes out of necessity and other times out of choice) and concerns about the environmental and social impact of our diets. We've never made the jump to a full vegan or even vegetarian diet. (For mostly selfish reasons--we really, really like meat. And cheese. And eggs. And ice cream.) But it's one small way we try to live out our beliefs.

We had a solid set of vegetarian recipes that we used. Then we realized that our daughter is allergic to cow's milk protein. And suddenly any cheesy, creamy vegetarian dish wasn't going to work for our household anymore. So now we're on a quest for kid-friendly, dairy-free, meat-free meals that also make the adults in the household happy.

This weekend we made a vegetarian chili, one we've dubbed Northwest Chili because it includes an item held in great esteem by many in these parts: beer. Also because all the veggies in it are grown around here (and are in season right now). But mostly the beer.

The results: Two big thumbs up from the adults. The beans made it very filling. It was a success with the kids, too. Our preschooler actually complimented it, unasked. We strained away the broth for the toddler; she ate everything except for the beans. (She refuses to eat most all beans, so that wasn't surprising.) Our sides were corn bread and a tossed green salad (gotta use up those CSA produce box greens!) The corn bread was probably the highlight of the meal for the kids.

The verdict: A definite keeper. Filling, fairly quick to prepare and, except for the zucchini, it uses ingredients we usually have on hand year-round. It made enough for two meals for us.

Recipe below the jump!

NORTHWEST VEGETARIAN CHILI
(adapted from the Better Homes & Gardens Cook Book)

Ingredients:
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 T canola oil

2-14.5 oz. cans stewed tomatoes: OR (if you have a little more time and some fresh veggies on hand); 3.5 c tomatoes, peeled, cored and chopped into large pieces; 3 T onion, chopped; 3 T green pepper, chopped; 1 T celery, chopped; 1 t sugar; dash salt

1 c water
12 oz fine Pacific NW microbrew (or any alcoholic/non-alcoholic beer)
8 oz. tomato sauce
3-4 t chili powder
1 t ground cumin
1 t dried oregano
1/2 t ground pepper
3-15 oz. cans beans (pinto and/or kidney beans), rinsed and drained
1.5 c summer squash or zucchini, chopped
1.5 c corn kernels, fresh or frozen

Cooking instructions:
Saute garlic in hot oil for 30 seconds.

Stir in undrained canned tomatoes, beer, water, tomato sauce, chili powder, oregano, ground pepper and beans.: OR (if using fresh tomatoes): Combine tomatoes, onion, green pepper, celery, sugar, and salt. Bring to boiling; simmer, uncovered, for 10 min. Stir in beer, water, tomato sauce, chili powder, oregano, ground pepper and beans.

Bring to boiling; reduce heat. Cover and simmer for 10 min.

Stir in corn and zucchini/squash. Cover and simmer for 10 min. or until vegetables are tender. Top with your favorite chili toppings (we like cheese and cilantro).

In Her Second Autumn

2009-09-26T23:55:00.000-07:00

(The password-protected post below is the same as this one, but with pictures.)

Firefly is one-and-a-half years old now, nineteen months to be exact.

She started the summer as a baby and ended it as a toddler,stretching out into the body of a little girl and hurtling around with a bow-legged walk. Now that she spends most of her time on two feet, she's interacting with her world in new ways, exploring shelves and rounding corners. At the library the other day she darted down a row of books while my head was turned and set my heart racing when I couldn't see her for several seconds. (This, from the girl who cries when we so much as leave her to go upstairs at home!) She loves the flat, wide aisles of stores, where she can trot along without tripping. She stops, smiling, to jog in tight circles, her little arms flapping.

I had forgotten how much I enjoyed this stage with Puppy. The stretch from right about eighteen months to right around the second birthday. The new ways they start to express themselves and interact are a hoot. Just one nap to plan the day around, finally. And, good heavens, are they ever cute at this age, all bobbling giggling miniatures.

She pats my arm when we hug, her arms not long enough to pat my back the way I do hers. Sometimes at bedtime we hear her singing wordlessly to herself in her crib as she falls asleep. In the mornings she stands up and holds her blanket out to us, asking to be wrapped up for a snuggle to start her day. She loves meat, fruits, tomatoes, and all sorts of carbohydrates, but acts offended if you serve her beans of any kind.

I think what I like the most about this age is the way different parts of children's personalities start to reveal themselves. Firefly is showing a certain carefulness of spirit more and more. Not so much a cautiousness born of fear (although she certainly wants us near at all times). More about wanting to take in as much as she can of a new person or situation before she decides what she thinks. It's something that's always been a part of her, but we're seeing it being expressed in new ways. We went to the park the other night, a gorgeous September evening that had drawn several families out to the playground. She spent a long time in the middle of the playground just watching, standing impassively while the other children swirled around her in play. Finally she was ready to put herself in motion and play in her own way. I think this will always be a part of who she is in life, someone who takes the time to study and think until she is ready to engage on her own terms.

The speech therapist was here the other afternoon, over enunciating and trying to convince Firefly to work on her basic sounds. She handed her a baby doll (B-B-B-baby) and a tiny toy bottle (M-M-M-milk). Firefly pulled the baby into her lap and worked very carefully to get the bottle into its plastic mouth. She fed the baby for quite awhile, concerned when the doll would slip a little from her lap, staying focused on it long after the therapist had moved on to other things. I had never seen her play that way before, practicing what it is to think about someone other than yourself and try to meet their needs. It was nothing exceptional, just a toddler playing in an ordinary way with a cheap doll, but I felt like I was watching her decide to take another small step forward into the world.

Protected: In Her Second Autumn

2009-09-26T23:54:00.000-07:00

Show protected post

One of 6.7 Billion

2009-09-24T23:33:00.000-07:00

"I love you, Mama."

"I love you, too!"

"But I love everybody."

What I Thought I Knew

2009-09-18T02:35:00.000-07:00

Today Grown In My Heart is hosting a carnival on the topic "what no one told me about adoption." Rather than reinvent the wheel, I'm pulling out something I wrote (and a meme at that!) way back in October of 2007, before we had even met Beth, much less Firefly. Hence the Puppy-centrism.

Four things I thought about adoption when I was a child:

For awhile I thought couples went into an orphanage and more or less selected a child off of a shelf. I used to play adoption agency with my friends. We'd line up all my dolls in pretty dresses, then one of us would be the adoptive parent and the other one would be the orphanage director. We even drew up little adoption contracts.
Because I knew all the words to the songs in "Annie," I felt I knew quite a bit about adoption. Clearly.
I thought adoptive children should be pitied for not having a real family and adoptive parents should be pitied for not having kids of their own.
I was glad I wasn't adopted.

Four things I've learned since then:

Movies and novels aren't the best sources of information about adoption.
A person's history from before they're adopted matters as much as their story after. Being adopted doesn't hit a reset button on their life.
There is still quite a bit of work left to be done to make adoption (both international and domestic) a more just system.
Adoptive families can be just as awesome as "regular" families.

Four silly things people have said to me about adoption:

"How did you manage to get a white baby?"
"You did it the right way--you got a kid and didn't have to be pregnant."
"It's almost like you're his real mom!"
"If you really cared, you would have adopted a foster kid or gotten an orphan from some poor country."

Four things that are hard about adoption:

Trying to act ethically inside a broken system.
Getting past cultural models of family, which don't really have a place for more fluid family structures like ours. Things made a lot more sense when I realized that we were a "non-traditional" family, despite our outward appearance.
Convincing people that open adoption isn't confusing, dangerous, or an act of charity.
Not knowing what Puppy is going to think about all this when he is grown.

Four ways my adopted child/placed child has surprised me (or how your adoptive/first parents have surprised you if you're an adoptee):

He has picked up some of our mannerisms. I had prepared myself to raise a child who was completely different than us. But he is like us in some ways and like his first family in other ways--and uniquely himself in still more ways.
He was white. I mean, we knew Puppy was going to be white, but we were expecting to adopt transracially.
He is starting to notice more about family structure than I thought he would at this age.
He makes parenting a lot more fun than I ever expected it to be.

Four things I wish everyone knew about adoption:

You don't have to be directly involved in adoption to care about adoption reform. If you care about reproductive rights, parental rights, family preservation, civil rights, poverty, racial inequality, or global inequity then you should care about adoption reform.
You can confront the darker stuff in adoption (loss, regret, need for reform, etc.) and still be optimistic about adoption as a whole.
Closed adoptions are a fairly recent invention in American history. Open adoption isn't some crazy new fringe idea.
All of us--adopted people, first parents, adoptive parents--represent a wide variety of backgrounds and circumstances. The stereotypes about us, both positive and negative, are pretty useless.