Learning to Love

Adoption is full of surprises, and unknowns, and until one adopts a child, they really don't know what those unknowns will be.

One of the biggest surprises that I have experienced with this adoption, is that I have had to learn and choose to love Nur.  My love wasn't this biological response to a pregnancy.  My love had to be more deliberate. 

The above picture is the first time I ever laid eyes on my son.  I'll never forget how emotional that day was.  I called my adoption agency that day and accepted the referral.  What I was actually doing that day, is making a life long promise that I would be Nur's mom.  He would be my child.  I would raise him and provide for him my entire life.  Out of all the babies in Ethiopia, Nur was given to me.  And I chose him. 

Then there was the day we met.

I sobbed the moment he was placed in my arms.  I'll never forget his soft skin, his baby scent, his big eyes, his hair, or the bracelet he wore on his arm.  Nur 4398.  I sat ackwardly with my son on a couch.  At first, I held him facing me.  But he was visibly uncomfortable with that amount if intimacy, and honestly, so was I in some ways. 

We were complete strangers, brought together by circumstances out of both of our hands.  Brought together by choices made.  Nur felt nothing for me.  I felt a strong urge to protect this child for life.  To raise him.  To be his mom.  But love?  Not quite yet. 

There are so many things that can't be taught to an adoptive parent because we are all on our own journey, and no two people will experience adoption in the same way.  I often felt shame because of how I felt initially.  I felt that this couldn't be normal.  Why aren't my maternal instincts kicking in?  But I've also learned through adoption that I needed to have grace with myself.  This was new for me, and I shouldn't apologize for how I feel. 

In the days following Nur being placed in my arms, I woke up and chose to love this beautiful child.  And as days turned into months, there was no choice anymore.  I just simply loved my son. 

My heart smiles when I think of my son, and his eyes light up in my presence.  We both fell in love with each other.  There wasn't one defining moment in the process, instead, there were hours, days, months of building a relationship and trust.  And now?  I am so in love with this son of mine.  At first, my love was a choice, but that choice was quickly taken away from me by the overwhelming sense of gratitude that I was given the opportunity to be this beautiful child's mom.

"Love, is above all else, the gift of oneself." - Jeanne Moreau

What Would These Two Do Without Each Other

When our family planning took a turn, and it was discovered that we were expecting 2 kids instead of 1, we were met with many questions and a lot of trepidation.  I knew it was going to be hard, and you know, it is hard!  At times, I feel like having one child would be so much easier.  But easiness doesn't equal happiness.  I can't imagine life without both of these children. 

Sure, outings are harder.  In fact, some times, they are just impossible which means they don't happen.  Sure, meal times are not fun, sleeping can be a pain, figuring out special things to do with each independently is hard.  There are a lot of hard things about having babies 7 months apart.

But the joy outweighs it all.

These two have known and loved each other for a lifetime.  When Nur was unsure about his new surroundings, TT was there to show him the way.

When Mama and Baba have to leave for work most days, there are less tears because these two have each other. 

They can be silly together, and are truly each other's best friends.

There are rough moments too. 

But mostly a lot of love.  I imagine these two as teenagers, hanging out in each other's rooms, and complaining about T and I.  And I'm okay with that.  I'm just so grateful that these two get to do life together.  The things they will learn from each other. . . My Nur and TT.

Enjoying Life

Two weeks ago, we had our first snow storm of the winter.  That's saying something for Minnesota!  And where I ive, we really only received about 6 inches.

Two weeks ago, we bundled the kiddos up, and we built our first snow man.

Yesterday, on St. Patrick's Day, we ended an 80 degree day.  For parts of this country, that is normal, but 80 degrees in March in MINNESOTA, not normal.  I keep going back and forth.  In one moment, I'm enjoying it, and in the next moment, I fear this isn't right.  It just isn't right to have this warm of weather in March.  It's weird. . . and it's OFF.

But anyway, the kids are happy.  We go outside constantly.  That is all they want.  I had to go through their clothes and start putting some of their summer clothes in their closets.  It's been that warm.

The kids have been sleeping so well.  They actually ask to go "night night."  All this running and playing outdoors has been great for the both of them.

And I just have to say, is this boy handsome or what?  I just marvel at his beauty, and wonder about what his first mama and baba must look like?  He is one good looking child!

Funny story. . . TT got a timeout yesterday for throwing food on the floor.  Our timeouts aren't real harsh.  We just put them in their cribs for about a minute (where they usually just play) and then we explain to them that what they did isn't appropriate behavior and we make them say sorry.  So, I get TT out of her timeout, yesterday after explaining that we do NOT throw food on the floor and she walks out of her bedroom and gives Nur the biggest hug ever.  What's so funny about this is that 99.9% of the time, TT is in a timeout for hitting her brother, and we make her say sorry to him afterwards and then hug him.  Well, she forgot that wasn't the reason for this timeout.  Creature of habit I guess.

Oh, and anytime I tell TT that before we go outside, Mama needs to put my shoes on, she brings me my red high heels.  I think I have a diva in the making.

Hope everyone is having a fabulous day.  I'm off to clean the house in preparation of my in-laws coming over in a couple hours.  They just arrived back from Egypt, where they were for several months, and we are so happy to have them here again.

The Day You Came Home

I was reading my friend's blog yesterday and it really hit me hard.  She was talking about pieces of the puzzle she is trying to put together for her Ethiopian born son, and a sadness came over me.  Right now, we are in the middle of dealing with the terrible 2's, sleep issues, tantrums, etc, but these things are easy compared to what we will deal with in the future.  In the future, there will be a lot of questions by my son.  And I just don't have the answers.  To hardly any of them.  We know so little of his story, and it kills me. 

Every year on my birthday, my Mom emails me about the day I was born.  From what the weather was like that day, to who babysat my older sister while she and my Dad went to the hospital.  To who was working at the hospital that day.  To what was on TV.  Everything.  Sometimes the gravity of the things I won't be able to tell Nur kill me.

I know I need to refocus my energy on the things I can tell him.  It's the only way to make this situation more positive.  So, for the first time, here it goes. 

October 16th, 2010 was the day we were scheduled to leave.  There was a certain melancholy in the air that day.  I was so excited to be going home and having my entire family together for the first time, but I was sad to be leaving Ethiopia.  I was sad to be leaving the people I had met, and sad to be taking you away from all you knew. 

I was also feeling very anxious.  We had a very long trip ahead of us.  And I wanted to leave NOW.  Instead, we had a flight leaving the Addis Ababa airport at 10:30pm  We didn't even have to be at the airport until 8pm.  My longing to be home was intense. 

You woke up at your usual time of 6:30am and you had slept with me that night, cuddling in bed, with the sound of wild dogs fighting below.  Grandma Su and I got you dressed, and we headed down for breakfast, where the other American families, now our friends, were also congregating to eat breakfast together.  We had a nice meal of eggs, bread, and pourage, and then we headed back to the room to get packed.  Grandma Su and I had so much packing to do.  Somehow, in the 8 days we spent in Ethiopia, we managed to accumulate a lot of stuff. We didn't know what to do with you.  So, we put you in your crib with a couple of toys, and turned the TV on.  Only one TV station came in, and it was very blurry, but you were so content.  Everytime I would walk into the room, you would smile your million dollar smile at me.  We had only known each other for a few days at this point, but in your eyes, you seemed to recognize that I would be someone significant in your life. 

The other American families started bringing their stuff into our room. We had to be checked out by noon, but we didn't leave for the airport until 8, so we needed a place to hang out during that time.  So, we all chipped in and decided to share a room for the last few hours in Ethiopia.  We all went downstairs, and had our last Ethiopian meal.  We sat outside on the patio, and it was another beautiful, Ethiopian day.  Every day we were there, it was about 80 degrees, and sunny, with a light, gentle wind.  After lunch, we all took turns settling our bill and saying goodbye to everyone.  I brought you around to the staff so they could all say goodbye to you. 

After lunch we all congregated in the one hotel room.  It was naptime, but there were too many people around to attempt naps.  We continued to pack, ran to the local internet cafe, got all of our documents together, and played with the other babies.  As night time was upon us, I put you in warm pajamas for the long trip home.  About 10 minutes later, you pooped all over your pajamas, so I put you in another pair.  Here you are, sitting with your friends, waiting to leave for the airport.

It was finally time to leave for the airport.  It took two large vans to bring us all, mostly because we all had a lot of luggage.  You sat on my lap and we traveled in the dark towards the airport.  When we got there, there were people in the parking lot begging for money.  I know longer had any use for my birr, so I gave it all to a begger before entering the airport. 

We went through security very quickly.  We then checked in for the flight where I fought hard to get us bulkhead seating.  We secured it for our flight from Amsterdam to Minneapolis, but unfortunately, all the bulkhead seats were full from the flight from Addis Ababa to Ethiopia.  At this point, it was past 9pm, and you were so exhausted.  I don't blame you.  I was exhausted, but you were just a little baby.  We sat at the gate for what seemed like forever, and finally, it was time to board the plane. 

Once the plane was in the air, one of our new friends Chuck told us that you could sleep in the bassinet as his daughter was laying comfortably at his feet.  You were the smallest and youngest baby traveling home, and I gladly took him up on that offer.  Your mama was too tired to even think of taking pictures, but there you were, sleeping soundly in a bassinet, while I looked out the window as we flew over Alexandria Egypt.  The lights below us were so bright as we sailed above the Mediterrean and left the continent of Africa.  I dozed in and out of sleep.  It was the middle of the night, and by about 5am, there we were in Amsterdam.

The Amsterdam airport is usually so busy, but at 5am, it was fairly quiet.  We had about a 4 hour layover here, and this is where we said goodbye to the other families.  They had other flights to catch home, and we were the only family traveling to Minneapolis.  We found a family room with a crib, and we played in there for a while.  Your Grandma Su was starting to feel very sick.  I felt horrible for her.  Her ears were really hurting bad, and she did not look good.  We decided to eat at McDonald's.  Imagine us, with a ton of bags, holding a baby, and trying to carry food.  It wasn't pretty.  The layover seemed like it was taking forever.  I just wanted to be home.

It was finally time to board the plane.  This was my first time traveling with a child, and I realized all the special attention I got because of it.  We got to go to the front of the line and board the plane.  We had bulkhead seats, and you took a nap in the bassinet.  You were sleeping so soundly, but then the flight attendant made me pick you up because you had to be strapped in while we took off.  We were sitting with a young Ethiopian Mom and her young son, who screamed the entire 9 hours to Minneapolis.  You were excellent.  You sat on my lap so well, and we watched the TV screen together.  You took many naps on my chest, and everytime I had to use the bathroom I brought you with.  Your poor Grandma was fading fast.  She looked miserable and barely had a voice.  I've been on some long flights, but to this day, the flight from Amsterdam to Minneapolis on that day, felt like the longest flight ever experienced.

We landed in Minneapolis, and when I got the okay to turn my phone on, I quickly did, and was so relieved to have a working phone! One of the hardest things about being in Ethiopia was how unreliable the technology was.  Your Baba and I would often get cut off on the phone and we'd have no power for hours.  There were some days where they internet in the entire country was down.  And now, I had a working cell phone! I quickly texted your baba that we landed.

We had to go through customs, and we had to go through an aisle especially for new citizens.  You and I stood in front of the customs agent, and handed him the sealed envelope that I was instructed over and over again not to open. . . under any circumstances.  I answered a few questions for this nice man, and then he told me congratulations, and we were on our way. 

We collected all of our luggage, and walked towards the elevators.  I had been through the international entrance at this airport, many times, and I knew that as soon as we got out of the elevators, our family would be there waiting. 

The elevator doors opened, and there everyone was.  Your Baba was holding your baby sister Scarlett.  Grandpa Paul, Your Nana and Gidu, your Aunts, and Uncles, and Cousins.  We walked through the doors and your Baba quickly grabbed you out of my arms, and I grabbed your sister.  I just cried.  There was such a buildup to this very moment.  I waited so long for you Nur, and I waited so long for us all to be together.  Everyone looked at you, and hugged and kissed you, and welcomed you with open arms into our family.  It was a short gathering, as we were all so tired.  Your Baba had brought the double stroller and we put you in it.  Your first stroller ride.  I held your sister, and I remember her feeling so little compared to you.  You were afterall a grownup 10 month old. :)

We got you and your sister in the car, and I remember looking back at both of you.  Sitting so nicely in your careseats, and I was thinking, this is the first day of the rest of my life.  And it truly was.

I will love you forever Nur.

Seeing Color

A couple of weeks ago, I brough my kiddos to an Early Childhood Family Education (ECFE) drop in and play.  I was taking their coats off, and a fellow mom of a toddler came up to me to comment on how cute my kids are.  I smiled and thanked her.  She then asked me if they were twins.  I said that they were not, and that I had adopted from Ethiopia.  She then asked which one was the adopted one.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't chuckle on the inside and wonder how this woman could ask such a question.  Although it's true. . . neither child looks just like me, TT definitely resembles me more than Nur.  We can all agree on that, right?

I was telling this story to my mom this past weekend, and my mom said that perhaps this other mom was trying to be politically correct and didn't want to point out that she realized it was Nur I was referring to.  Perhaps.

I remember the politically correct "love is color blind."  And you know what, Love IS color blind.  But that doesn't mean that I'M color blind.  So many people think that by acknowledging differences, we are racists, or judgmental based on different races.  I used to do that to.  I'm from a town where diversity doesn't exist much.  I remember a black family visiting town one time as they had relatives there.  I was playing with this black girl at the park, when someone approached us and started saying not nice things to my new friend.  I remember turning to her and saying, "What? You're black? It doesn't even matter to me so I didn't even notice."  Okay. . . I clearly noticed.  What I should have said, is that I simply didn't care. 

Since becoming a multiracial family, I see the importance of acknowledging the differences.  Have open dialogue about them.  Acknowledge the beauty in absolutely every shape, size, and color.  Acknowledgement isn't judgment.

And let's be honest. . . no one believes for a minute that you didn't notice.  We all notice.

TT - 20 Months

TT is 20 months old, and growing right before my very eyes!

TT is smart, and funny.  She can be so outgoing, yet so shy.  She reminds me a lot of myself when I was young.  TT will shy away from people she knows well.  People she sees pictures of and smiles, and asks about.  Yet when they are right in front of us, she plays hard to get.  Very hard get.

TT is fiercely independent, and she's at that age where she can pretty much accurately communicate her wants, yet she doesn't always get what she wants, and then freaks out.  Oh, I can't wait until no's are handled better!  TT always wants to dress herself, which includes a lot of jewelry on most days.

TT is also in a stripping stage.  Yes, she takes her clothes off all the time.  I was home with the kids yesterday and she ate her lunch completely naked. . . Oh, except for socks and jelly shoes.

This girl is a sponge.  Today when she woke up, she pointed to the fan and said fan.  Then pointed to Nur's bedroom door, and said, "night night.  Shh." I don't know where she hears these things, but I'm at this amazing point of motherhood now that my kids can somewhat communicate with me.  It's remarkable.  They are becoming real people. 

TT loves to be held a lot, and she's getting heavy.  Far too heavy to carry around everywhere.  She loves to cuddle, and her biggest soother is playing with hair. . . either her hair or someone else's.  She loves watching a cartoon called Calliou and gets to watch it before bed each night. 

20 months for TT is a pretty difficult age.  But it's also been a really fun age.  I love watching TT discover new things on a daily basis.  I love how independent this girl is, and how she'll just go play independently for a few minutes at a time.  I love peaking in a room that is quiet, and findingTT picking out a book to read.

My heart and my hands are very full with TT.  She is the most wonderful daughter I could have ever imagined.

Nur - 27 Months

When Nur turned 2 in December, I quit referring to him in months.  He is simply 2.  However, I somehow also stopped doing monthly updates on him, which was just wrong!  Every day this boy is learning and growing, so once a month, while I update this blog, Nur will be referred to in terms of months again.  :) 

So, my very grown up boy is 27 months old!

I am so impressed with how much he is speaking.  He is attempting to say words, and sometimes they sound exactly like they should, and sometimes they don't, but most words I completely understand no matter how accurate they are.  Nur loves being able to communicate and talks constantly, whether it's babble or actual words.  He is always talking.  He's really turned a corner in the area of speech, and I think by the time he is 3, he will be so vocal.  But 3 can wait! This boy of mine is already growing up too fast!

Nur remains the sweetest boy. . . ever.  He loves giving hugs, and kisses, and will at times walk up to me with his lips puckered to give me a spontaneous kiss.  He has the best little giggle I've ever heard, and most of the time, is the happiest child I've ever seen.

Nur has gotten tall.  And thinned out.  There is no evidence of baby left, and when I look at him, I only see little boy. 

He naps well, and continues to sleep from 7pm to approximately 5:30-6am.  He loves food, and is getting so much better at chewing.  He now can ask for milk, or nuu-nuu's.  (noodles)  I love that he can ask for what he wants.  His world is opening up, and I'm so happy to be a part of it. 

Nur is a wonderful big brother.  He looks out for TT, and she looks out for him.  They are happiest when they are being silly together.  Nur loves to sing songs, and often comes up to me and requests the "bus" song.  (Wheels on the bus)  Garbage pick up day is his favorite and he stands at the window in amazement. 

He is starting to exercise free will, and he knows how to be naughty.  He likes to test the limits, as I'm sure most toddlers do.  When he is tired, he absolutely melts and it's not pretty.  He also melts when he doesn't get his way.  He'll stand in front of me and stomp his feet and then arch the back and scream.  Unfortunately this has happened in public. . . a few times, and I try not to react too much and to let him has his tantrum.  I know he'll grow out of the tantrum phase, and I daily pray for an inhuman amount of patience. 

Nur continues to love trucks, and cars, and buses.  He always has one in his hand.  He also loves picking out his pajamas. . . and green seems to be his favorite color.

I couldn't have asked for a better son.  Nur is a wonderful, thoughtful, smart, funny, and kind human being.  I am SO lucky to be his mama.

A Day in the Life of a Mom, Weekday Edition

Happy March!  Last March, days were very different than how they are today.  I had an 8 month old, and an 15 month old.  Today, I have an almost 20 month old, and an almost 27 month old.  I don't miss those days.  Those were hard hard days.  And I definitely wouldn't want to go back to our first month home.  Those were REALLY hard days. 

Last year around this time, I talked some about how my days looked back then.  I thought I would document how days are now. 

I will start with weekday, and then do weekend in a few days, as weekdays and weekends vary greatly in our household. 

Anywhere from 4:30-5am.  I wake up.  Hopefully, not to a child up, but by my own internal clock.  I actually haven't set an alarm since TT was born!  (Oh, how I wish I still had a use for an alarm)  If no babies are awake, I grab the monitor, hop in the shower, and hope they are still sleeping when I get out of the shower.  Usually, I get out of the shower, to the noise of TT up.  Total bummer.  I mean, I want to hang out with TT, but I also want to apply makeup, blowdry my hair, and try to look presentable for the day.  But this usually doesn't happen, because apparently, my daughter also has an internal clock that tells her to wake up at 5am everyday.

I go in TT's room, where she is usually standing, baby in hand, nuk in mouth.  I pick her up, and the first word out of her mouth is usually, "juice."  (I give her juice in the morning with her multivitamin droplet) The second word out of her mouth is usually, "barney."  So, I grab the juice, go to our lower level, and turn Barney on.  Thank goodness for DVR.  I currently record every Barney episode. 

TT is a slow waker.  She doesn't want me to talk to her, or really even touch her immediately.  I sit her on my lap, turn on Barney, and just sit their in silence while she watches.  It's so funny, cause once she has that first drink of juice, I know she is ready for the day.  Diva in training?  Or perhaps just a slow waker like her Baba.  Only time will tell.  Oh, and this girl won't touch breakfast in the morning.  She truly eases into her day.

At about 5:30am, I start to hear pounding coming from Nur's room.

Before I go in and get him, I prep his breakfast.  His favorite these days is a bowl of oatmeal with peanut butter toast and a glass of milk.  I have to have it ready for him, cause he will freak out if he gets to the kitchen and his food isn't ready.

Once the food is ready and on the table, I go in Nur's room, change his diaper, put him down, and he runs to the kitchen.  No really.  He runs.  He gets to his chair, and says, "eat."  So he eats breakfast. 

While he eats breakfast, TT usually runs around and plays.  I sit at the kitchen table usually with my makeup bag and put on my makeup.  Some days I even bring my blowdryer to the kitchen if my hair is still wet at this point.  I also go wake up T, who after waking, jumps in the shower. 

By this point, TT is starting to get ready for breakfast.  What does she want for breakfast most days, a "cookie."  Only it's not really a cookie.  It's a Nutri Grain bar, but that's what she calls it.  We recently transitioned TT to a booster.  Well, she demanded that transition actually.  She started refusing to sit in her high chair.  So, two babes in boosters.  We do not have any more babies left in our house!

After breakfast, it's time for me to walk out the door.  T stays behind with the kids until 8am, while I leave the house anywhere from 6:30-6:45.  TT usually cries, Nur just hugs me and says, "bye."  And then they both stand at the big bay window and watch me pull out of the driveway.

I get home from work by 3:45-4pm daily.  Usually, the kids can be found standing at the bay window watching for me.  (I certainly hope they haven't been standing their all 8 hours! Hmm)  I walk in, and they both run to me and hug my legs, and it is hand's down the best moment of my day.  I make small talk with the nanny, "how was your day?" "Did they eat well." "Nap well?" And then the Nanny goes on her way.

We play for a bit. I give a lot of hugs to make up for the past few hours I was away from them.  And before I know it, it's time for dinner prep.  Lately on the weekends, I spend some time preparing a few good meals that we can eat throughout the week to make the weekday easier.  This week, I made Lasagna, Egg Bake, and homemade chicken noodle soup.  So, I usually just warm one of these options up. 

By 4:30pm, it is time to eat. 

After dinner, the kids eat, I do cleanup. . . if T is home. . . we do cleanup.  I try to sweep the floor (dinners can be a disaster), do the dishes, wipe down the table, and things like that.  By 5pm, it's play time!  The current favorite toy is a kitchen.

While the kids play, T and I take turns being on the floor and playing with them, while one of us throws in loads of laundry, puts away laundry, and things of that nature.

About 6:15pm, it's PJ's time.  Both kids pick out their own PJ's.  They love the responsibility in that task.  At about 6:30pm, we snuggle into bed together, and watch the goodnight show on Sprout, followed by Calliou, who is the current favorite with my kids. The show lasts until 7, then it's time for bedtime.

T usually puts Nur down, I put TT down, and after that process, we usually collapse in front of the TV.  I continue doing laundry and picking up.  I iron most evenings as I like my mornings to run smoothly, and I find having a work outfit picked out and ironed helps my morning routine to go better. 

We usually watch a show, and then I'm beyond exhausted by 8:30pm. . . 9 at the latest.  I give T the monitor, and he is on baby duty until he comes to bed. . . which is usually 10-10:30pm.  We have a deal that if the kids wake up anytime before midnight for any reason, they are his!

I fall asleep in about 5 seconds.  And in a very short 8 hours, the routine begins again.

Stay tuned for a Day in the Life of a Mom, Weekend Edition.  Coming soon!