Archive for April, 2013



kiddo — Where is the north pole?

me — It’s at the top of the globe, at the very top of the map.  Let’s go look.

kiddo — Why Map come to see us that one time?  (Map, not what his mother or anyone outside this house calls him, is our case worker, and he’s come to see us twice.  He’s nice and we don’t mind at all when he visits.)

me — He just came to check on you.  He wanted to make sure you were doing alright.  He’ll come again to check on you one more time.

kiddo — Why he not check on the other kids?

me — He does.  He checks on other kids too.

kiddo — No, the other childrens at our school.  Why he not check on them?

Hmmm.  Why indeed?  A person can have a kid before he or she leaves middle school, or any other time after.  Want to try to raise her, great!  No questions asked, no classes required, no need to prove you can support the child, no need to prove you’re mentally stable and have no criminal history, no need to prove you have a home, and a safe one with a fenced back yard and the correct number of smoke detectors and carbon monoxide monitors and a fire extinguisher in the kitchen.  No need to prove you have health insurance and can and will arrange coverage for your child.  Nope, for you there’s no need for any of that.  For me and all those other parents who adopted, there’s all of the above and more and a massive pile of paperwork to go along with it.  Plus, someone will visit three times that first year to make sure all is well.  I’d do it all a hundred times over and of course it would still be a small thing to do for my babies.  I have no interest in starting a discussion or debate and I’m certainly not complaining at all about what I’ve done, what all has been involved and continues to be involved in this process, but really, why he not check on those other childrens?  Sometimes I can’t think fast enough to answer the questions of my three year old.  I won’t tell Map.  😉



good thing they’re cute

Some days are rough, really, really rough.  On those days it’s a good thing they’re cute, really, really cute.  On those days I’m reminded how great all those other days are.  There were tests before.  Tests to see if mama will still love even my most miserable me.  Now those tests seem like friendly and easy there’s-no-wrong-answer-here kinds of tests.  They seem like normal toddler tests that most (all?) kiddos use to see how much they can trust the stability, structure and consistency of the whole family set up.  I guess I’m glad that both of my kiddos feel secure enough to conduct the next round of tests, the sort of tests that kind of defy description.  They trust that I’m still going to love them and hug them and rock them and kiss them on the forehead.  I get that it’s important, essential even, for them to make sure.  Still though, on those days, it’s a good thing they’re cute.



good dinner mama

Granddad has a habit of clearing his throat if gushing about a meal he prepared doesn’t happen as soon as the first or second bite is enjoyed.  This throat clearing serves as our reminder to go on and on about how wonderfully talented he is in the kitchen and how we just can’t believe how perfectly everything has been prepared.  Fabulous!  Try to ignore it and it gets louder and more obvious.  He’s done it forever, as long as I can remember anyway.  It’s a joke, but an important and time-honored one.  Keta and Francine, of course, haven’t been in on the joke until recently.  Both are typically really good eaters and can’t be interrupted by a lot of exaggerated complimenting which means that often, the throat clearing goes unnoticed.  Not good.  We practiced once or twice at home so that response time improves and Granddad gets the appropriate level of enthusiasm.  How is it that it only took once or twice for Francine to learn that anytime (ANYTIME) a throat is cleared, meal time or not, the proper response is, “Good dinner Mama!” but it has been countless thousands of times we’ve practiced chewing with mouths closed AND swallowing before talking and she still cannot get it?  She’s been known to run to another room while brushing her teeth right before bed to compliment dinner if she even suspects I cleared my throat or coughed a little yet no amount of pointing at my closed mouth during dinner serves to remind her to shut hers and finish chewing.  I guess what she has to say is that important.  Oh well, manners schmanners, I’d rather laugh and hear her stories.

Just so we’re invited back someday, Granddad really is a great cook and the compliments are 100% sincere!  I’m sorry that when Granddad clears his throat Francine will immediately respond, “Good dinner Mama!” with her mouth full of whatever deliciousness Granddad made.



spring break (and other things i’ll miss)

New vocab terms I use so that correct modeling doesn’t make them history faster than growing up will:  shark knives, save my splace, let’s go outside and play with grisbees, moto-car-cycle, topatoes, bolleyvoll and others.