Seeing

I grew up with the message that we shouldn't point out differences in people, especially when it comes to a person's race.  I grew up hearing that love is colorblind and that race just shouldn't come into the equation of who a person is at all.  Granted, I also grew up in an area where it was easy to have that mentality.  After all, we were a bunch of white people living in a town, with little to no diversity to ever question our feelings on race relations.  It was an easy existence.  I do remember my first interaction with an African American.  It was a girl around my age (I was around 12 at the time) and she was visiting my little town to visit extended family.  I was fascinated by her! I had never met an African American. The whole experience was exhilerating.  It was a hot summer day, and she mentioned to me that she couldn't play outside for too long because her mom didn't want her getting too dark, which was a concept that confused me completely.  Afterall, she was already dark.  I being around 12, of course asked for clarification, and she said that her mom doesn't want her being one of the dark black girls.  I looked at her, shocked.

"What are you talking about?  You're black?"

Yep.  I asked that.  And I of course knew she was African American.  But I thought by noticing it, that it somehow made me prejudice or racist, so I pretended that I didn't notice it.  Looking back, that's pretty silly if you ask me.  She noticed I was a pale freckled face girl.  Why wouldn't I notice that she was an African American girl?

Because we should all be colorblind, right?

I went through a lot of my life with these ideas.  And then came the adoption of Nur, and I found it important to learn everything I could about parenting a child of a difference race than my own.  I took classes through my adoption agency, reached out to other parents who have children of a different race, and did research on race in general.  The overwhelming consensus was that race should be discussed.  That pointing out differences doesn't make us racist.  In fact, acknowledging differences without allowing those differences to form a certain view of an individual is how we overcome racism. 

We talk about race a lot in our home.  Nur actually began the conversation a long time ago when we were studying colors.  He looked in the mirror and said to me, "Nur is brown."  That was the beginning of an ongoing conversation in our household.  I told him that Nur is brown.  I also told him that he is beautiful.  I also pointed out that TT is very light brown, but that Nur and TT share the exact same eye color.  I also pointed out that Mama is a peach color, and that Baba and Nur have the same hair color.  My objective of these conversations is so that Nur knows that being brown is beautiful, and that although there are differences between us, there are also many similarities as well. 

Many people seem uncomfortable by how openly my family speaks about race.  We were at Sunday School several weeks ago, where I am a teacher.  All 20 kids were sitting around eating their snack, and I was talking to a couple other teachers.  I mentioned that 18 of the twenty kids in the room were all blond haired, and then there is my brown haired TT, and then there is Nur, who is the only African American in the room.  One of the teachers looked at me shocked.  She had a similar reaction that I had when I was 12 years old.  Did she really want me to believe that she hadn't noticed that my Nur was an African American child?  Or was she shocked that I openly said it?  Either way, I found the reaction silly.  There is nothing wrong with pointing out contrast. 

I've also been questioned by many family and friends about openly talking about race.  We celebrated MLK Jr day and I had many people mention that we shouldn't make race too big of an issue in our house because "love is colorblind." I've also had people question why we talk about Nur being brown.  I have many people in my life who seem to be of the opinion that we shouldn't talk about this at all.  At least not until Nur has a better understanding of it all.

I am of the opinion that both adoption and race need to be a conversation from day one.  Nur is a very bright 3 year old, and TT is a very bright 2 year old.  They get that we all look different.  Nur completely understands that he looks more like the Somali family in school than he does his own parents.  They get that TT looks just like her half Egyptian cousins where Nur doesn't look much like any of us.  Nur understands that he was born in Ethiopia and TT was born in the United States.  These are all conversations we choose to have, and I believe we are doing it the best way we know how.  I believe that we are fostering a relationship with our kids where race discussions are not taboo. 

It's okay if you notice Nur doesn't look like his parents.  It's okay if you notice he's African American. 

Because let me tell you. . . He notices.

Celebrating Diversity

Martin Luther King Jr. Day.  President Barack Obama's inauguration.  The 150 anniversary of the Dakota War in Minnesota.  These are all conversations I want to have with my children, and I'm trying to find ways to do it in the most age appropriate way possible.

I had MLK Day off, and wanted to do a couple activities with my children to really talk about him and how important he was for not only this country, but for my family specifically.  We read this great book and we really talked about it.  I explained how important this man is and how he did so much to get us to where we currently are.  Sure, I over simplified.  A lot.  I told Nur and TT that this man wanted everyone to be judged fairly, and that he said that no matter what we look like, we should only be judged by how nice we are.  The kids seemed to grasp that as much as any 3 and 2 year old can grasp that concept.  We also listened and watched his "I Had A Dream" speech during the march on Washington.  We also did a craft project and made the freedom bell with MLK Jr's picture on it.  I think this was enough for this year.  They can only grasp so much.  I understand that.  But I do often wonder about how to teach about racial issues to my kids.  And do I teach it to them differently because I'm raising one African child and one. . . wait?  One half African child. 

Racial issues in this country are complex.  Not only are the issues complex, but they are embarrassing.  To me, it's unfathomable that we judge people based on their looks.  I really can't fathom that we think differently of people because of the color of their skin.  I also don't get why we limit freedoms of those with a different sexual orientation.  I flat out just don't understand these things.  I don't get hatred and anger, and all I can say is that people who are so cruel and unjust to others must just have a lot of fear in their life.  That's the only explanation I can think of.  

I do feel like raising Nur and TT, I do have a greater responsibility to teach these serious issues than average people.  Look. . . I'm a white girl from small town USA.  I have white privilege, and I will never understand what it feels like to be watched a little more closely in a store for fear of shoplifting.  Or people who hold their purses a little tighter as an African American walks by.  I'll never know what it's like to be profiled everytime I travel, although with my last name, I admit, it's happened to me once or twice.  I will never KNOW what it's like to be an African American, but my children, Nur especially, will know what that feels like, and it's my responsibility as his mother to understand these complex issues as much as I possibly can.  Being part of a diverse family doesn't even necessarily mean that I understand racism more than the average white person.  But I do feel that I have a greater responsibility because of my diverse family to keep these issues on the table always, and to talk about them constantly. 

Happy Tuesday! (And I hope my readers in MN are staying warm in these sub zero temps!)

Life as a Princess

Anyone who knows me, knows that I have progressive views about women and their roles in life.  I don't buy into typical gender roles.  I think women can work outside of the home and be anything they desire to be.  I think men can stay at home.  I think little boys can be dancers and little girls can be athletes.  I refuse to put limitations on what my children should do.  I want them to be happy.  And if that means Nur is a ballerina and TT is a football player, than so be it.

Imagine my surprise when from a very early age I realized that TT was going to be all about dolls, barbies, and most of all. . . PRINCESSES!!!  She is obsessed.  Absolutely obsessed.  She owns many play dresses, and everyday, she is wearing a princess dress.  For Halloween, she wanted to be Cinderella.  For Christmas, she wanted a Cinderella barbie.  On TV, she want to watch Cinderella, or Tangled, or Beauty and the Beast, or her new favorite, Sophia the First.  She loves EVERTHING princess, and I truly did nothing to push her towards that.



In a couple of weeks, I am taking TT to a Princess Ball.  The city of Minneapolis has this annual event and I thought it would be fun for TT and I to experience together.  Kids get all dressed up, and it's a dance, and they get to meet Cinderella.  So today I ventured out to the mall (aka the Mall of America, where someone apparently famous was performing, and therefore it was nuts!) to visit the Disney store and get TT a princess dress for the occassion. 

I was looking around the Disney store, and trying to figure out if I wanted TT to be Belle, or Tinkerbell, or Ariel, or. . . . . . .   And I got really philosophical as I looked for the perfect dress.  Life is hard.  Really really hard.  We go to college and hope to get good jobs, and then we spend our lives working really hard, for sometimes not a lot of money, and trying to enjoy our free time when we can.  We have bills, and responsibilities.  We have compex relationships that we try our best to navigate, but that often leave us feeling defeated.  We have daily, human struggles.  As we get older, we learn more and more truths about life, and sometimes those truths aren't pretty.  The older we get the more we also realize that we are in so much of this life stuff alone, and that we need to be strong and soldier through. 

So, here I have this two year old that thinks life is magical.  She thinks that she is beautiful, and a princess, and that if she projects kindness into the world, that all of her dreams will come through.  She has an innocence that I envy, and that I never want her to lose.  Life is simple to her, and there is something magical about putting on a beautiful gown, and getting "pretties" in her hair, and swirling. 

I want to bottle up her dreams and possibilities.  I want her to believe in the power of princesses if it helps her to believe in herself.  I want her to believe in all of this.

So, I'm okay with this princess obsession.  I know she will have the rest of her life for reality.  I want her to believe in make believe for as long as she is able.  I truly want all of her dreams to come true.  

This Age

I get asked on a regular basis if I plan to have more children.  T even asks from time to time if I want a 3rd.  And naturally, if I wanted another baby, it would happen with no effort at all.  (note sarcasm)

Growing up, I loved children! I was a babysitter to many kids, and mostly, I LOVED babies.  I've always been such a baby person.  Really, is there anything more adorable in this entire world than a baby?  And as much as I'll always look back on baby TT and baby Nur with fondness and adoration, mostly, those early days are plagued by a lot of stress and uncertainty.

I look back on those days, and remember how difficult TT could be.  She would cry constantly, and T and I would walk her back and forth in the hallway until our heals were black and blue.  She'd finally go to bed at 11pm, only to wake up 2 hours later.  Most days, I was up at 3:30am with her, couldn't get back to sleep, and then would head to work blurry eyed.  Nur had trouble sleeping, so I would kneel by his crib and rub his back, counting in my mind how strokes I had rubbed his back.  (I usually counted to 350 before I thought he was finally down)  Then I would literally crawl out of his room, only to get to the door, and have him pop up and start screaming.  Meanwhile, the girl in the room down the hall, would only nap in her swing until she was about 7 months old.  So, I would kneel by her swing, as it was moving, and would bottle feed the moving target, until her eyes got heavy, then I had to smoothly remove the bottle, and insert the nuki, in hopes that she wouldn't wake up.  Then T and I would go in front of the TV, and try to spend quality time together, and one of the kids would wake up screaming. 

I was really tired those early days, and I second guessed everything I did as a mom.

So, I am 99.99999% sure that there will not be a 3rd child anytime soon.  (aka. . . ever)  People say that once your children get a little older, you forget how difficult the early days were.  Well, I haven't forgotten.  I'm not sure I'll ever forget.

The truth is, is that I love this age.  I look at Nur and TT and think to myself, "You are growing too fast! Slow down!"  But then they grow some more, and I love the new age even more.  Sure, I look back at their first birthday pictures, and nostalgia takes over.  Oh, they were so little, and so cute.  But I still love this age more.

I love how irrational this age can be at times.  Like our conversation at dinner last night.
Nur. "Mama, I want milk."  So I go and bring the boy some milk, and he completely melts down.
Nur. "I wanted the blue cup mama." Boo hoo hoo.  I just had to smile and laugh.  Then TT wanted a pickle, so I nicely went and grabbed one.  She started hysterically sobbing.
TT. "I wanted the big pickle mama."

I even don't mind that they both always want to play with the same toy, and our play time right now is me standing in the middle of these two so they don't fight. 

My most favorite part of the day is the moment I walk through the door.  The kids are usually waiting at the window for me to come home from work, and the moment I walk in the door, they both scream, "mama!" They then shower me with hugs and tell me about their days.  These stories are often hilarious, because they are mostly false.  Yesterday, TT told me she went swimming outside.  Let me tell you, no one is swimming outside in Minnesota right now.

They both sponaneously hug my leg and tell me they love me so much.  TT tells me I'm pretty and wants to dress like me, Nur is always asking me to sing his favorite song. (Away in a Manger)  TT spends her days pointing at objects that I have forbidden her to touch, and looks at me and says, "Mama, I touch when I am older."  Nur is always bringing me our globe, and pointing out the continent of Africa, and then he goes down to even more detail to show me Ethiopia.  TT is always drawing pictures, and then finding magnets and putting them on our fridge.

I LOVE THIS AGE.  I love discovering new things on a daily basis through the eyes of my children.  I love that they can communicate almost all ideas to me, and I'm no longer guessing why they are crying or cranky.  I love that they are a bit more independent and I can sit down (in about 5 minute increments) and flip through a magazine.  And as much as I love this age, I'm also looking forward to all the ages that come next.

So, I think a family of 4 is the perfect size for us, and I don't see that ever changing.

Happy Thursday! :)

A Story of Many Stories

I know it's hard to believe sometimes, but I do have a bit of a life outside of my kids.  But yes, this blog has really been my outlet to discuss all things Nur and TT. Because well, I'm not that interesting.  But I do have one story I want to share that occurred year before the thought of Nur and TT even existed. 

My sophomore year of college, a friend and I were trying to decide where to live the following year.  We knew we really wanted to live together on campus, but we also knew we wanted to live in one of the 4-bedroom, 2-story townhomes that were available on campus.  The problem was, is that you needed a theme to live in those apartments.  (Oh, how I love my college in the city and their progressive dorms) So, this friend and I decided to have a US/International  theme where the two of us would help welcome international students into the community. 

That entire summer before my junior year of college, I could not wait to see what 6 other individuals we would be placed with.  Where would they be from? Would we all get along? Before I knew it, it was time to move into our new on campus apartment and meet the roomates.  And what a group it was!

We had 4 roommates from Norway, 1 from Estonia, and another fellow American who is not pictured.  We were a melting pot of cultures and languages.

I loved this group of women.  Besides a trip to Canada while in high school, I had never traveled internationally, and was intriqued by the different cultures and intrigued by this beautiful group of women who went outside of their comfort zone to study in a foreign land. 

These women taught me so much.  For one, they helped m to dress more "European."  I didn't know what that meant, but they assured me that they were way ahead of the U.S. in terms of the fashion game, so I should follow their lead closely.  (This meant wearing a lot of black and gray, and throwing away every white sock I owned) They taught me about having a global perspective, about realizing that the U.S. is not the center of the universe, that many other countries exist and flourish. They told me that almost everyone in Norway speaks 3 languages and know so much about foreign policy compared to my limited exposure to anything outside of the U.S.  I fell in love with this strong group of women.

The months went on and they became my best friends. We shared everything. I would often find these women turning to me to speak Norwegian, forgetting that I didn't know the language.  (Although after a glass of wine or 2, I always seemed to pick up the language) I brought them home for holidays, we talked about boys and heartaches, we spent every moment while not in classes together.  They taught me how to be a strong woman and to get out something that I shouldn't be into. They were my best friends. 

Unfortunately, the year had to end, and my friends had to go back to their homes.  It was my saddest goodbye to date. 



These friends had sparked so much in me.  That summer, I applied for my very first passport, and headed to Europe for the first time, and have enjoyed traveling ever since.  I've been to Norway twice to visit these beautiful people and they've been here a couple times to visit me. 

It's interesting to how every experience in our lives shapes and molds us.  I don't remember having a lot of interest in things international before my junior year of college.  They opened a whole new exciting world to me, and I often wonder if I would have been so open to international adoption without this new, global perspective.  These people were put in my life for a reason, and even though an ocean separates us, I still love them all dearly and consider them some of the best friends I've ever had. 

And the reason this story is on my mind heavily today, is that there is a very good chance that they two of them (the two in the very last picture) will come visit me this summer! Oh, how I"m hoping that happens.  I need these girls in my life. :)

Happy Wednesday!

Making Life Easier

I don't like asking for help.  And I certainly don't like accepting help.  But, life lately has gotten busier than usual. 

I have a career that involves working more than 40 hours a week.  I would say most weeks, I work around 50 hours.  My children are involved in weekly school, and I also teach Sunday School twice a month.  T also recently got a new job that has him working many nights and weekends.  And in between all of this, we try to put healthy meals on the table, do fun activities with the kids, have a clean and safe house for the kids, and a lawn that is satisfactory for our neighbors. 

We are not unique in getting pulled in multiple directions.  I know people who are much more capable than me at keeping it all together, and making it look easy.  But I decided 2013 is the year I get help!

One of biggest struggles is keeping up with the laundry in my household.  I feel like all I am constantly doing is laundry.  So, this year, I asked our nanny to do the children's laundry twice a week.  I felt bad asking, but why?  My kids nap every day, for at least 2 hours, which means she sits and catches up on shows, etc.  I don't have a job where I get to sit for 2 hours and not work.  So, at the end of the day, I decided to ask.  She was more than willing to take on this added responsibility, and it has helped out tremendously.  She does their laundry every Monday and Thursday, folds it, and puts it away. 

I've also been struggling with the state of my house.  By many people's standards, it's clean.  We keep toys picked up and organized, I scrub the floors twice a week, but these things take time, and most importantly, it's time away from the kids.  Cause well, 2 and 3 year olds don't always want to help mama clean.  So, as of yesterday, I ordered a cleaning service!  I've never had one, but always wanted one, and I figured this is the perfect time to do this!  It's amazing! I'm having them come every other week.  It's two ladies who deep clean my house, scrub toilets, and showers, and flowers, and baseboards. Dust and swift, and vacuum stairs.  IT IS AMAZING AND WHY DIDN'T I DO THIS SOONER? 

Now, I just need to hire a cook and I'll be set. :)

At the end of the day, I want a household that is running well.  I want a clean house for T and I, and also for the kids.  I want to take stress off of myself and all the responsibilities that come with being an adult.  But the most important thing at the end of the day is that I spend the quality time I want and need to with Nur and TT, and if this means paying a little more for this and that, I think it's well worth it in the end.

Being 2 is Hard

This picture is typical TT.  Oh, this 2 year old of mine can be a little (big) stinker.  She wears us down pretty heavily, but then in the next breathe, she loves on us so perfectly, that all else is forgotten. 

Consistent parenting is difficult.  Sometimes, I just want easy.  And easy can sometimes mean macaroni and cheese for dinner and a lot of Curious George on the TV.  It can also mean giving into this child's many many demands, and attitude, and whatever she chooses to bring on that particular day.  Yes, this parenting thing is not easy.  Some days are better than others.  



But I love being this girl's mama.  She is a special child.  Yes, my 2 and a half year old is nuki obsessed.  So much to the point that she now color coordinates her nuki to whatever she is wearing.  It's pathetic actually.  She's smart enough to color coordinate and make her nukie and accessory, which makes me think it's BEYOND time to get rid of it.  Consistent parenting.  Following the rules I set out for myself.  And one of those rules is nuki at bedtime only! I will follow through with this until her two remaining nukis disappear. FOREVER. Mark my word. 

TT loves so well.  The other day, the song "You are my Sunshine" came on.  She ran and embraced me, held my face, and said, "Mama, it's our song!" And it is our song.  I sing it EVERY night before bed.  I have for the past 2 and a half years.  Our song.  She also wants to dress just like me.

I laugh that she has a closet full of clothes, because the only thing she will wear these days is he dress up princess dresses.  Her favorite one currently being Rapunzel. She even sleeps in it half the time.  She's going to freak (in a good way) when she realizes that I'm bringing her to a Cinderella Ball in a couple of weeks.  She will be the bell of the ball.  

My TT.  She is my girl.  She is a little me in so many ways, minus the looks department. As she gets older, she starts looking as far from me as possible.  Someone asked me the other day if she was adopted.  

TT is a wor in progress, just like we all are. I'm trying to set hard limits for her, even when she embraces me and says, "I love you so much." In the back of my mind I remind myself that boundaries are good.  Rules are good.  Rules build character.  Consistent parenting.  I'm working on it.  Every day, with this child.



And then there is T.  Constantly telling me, "we need to be consistent with TT. She needs discipline. She needs tough love."  I completely agree.  But here's a little secret about this husband of mine.  TT completely has him wrapped around her little finger.  She owns him. :)

Happy Monday!

Documenting Life

I had every intention to be one of those moms who was on top of the baby book, with every little detail documented, and like many moms out there, I have failed miserably.  When I was pregnant with TT, I would look at her baby book constantly, and be so anxious to know some of the details of her life so I could fill in the blanks of this beautiful book.  Then she arrived.  And I was too busy changing diapers, feeding her, rocking her, and keeping her out of harms way to even think about updating her baby book.  I got a few pages in, and then I just stopped. 

It's not like I didn't document anything. 

I took a lot of pictures
I had a calendar in both children's rooms documenting firsts
I've kept every piece of paper detailing stats from their wellness visits
I've blogged about their lives
I've kept special artwork
I have an envelope from the first haircuts

So, I haven't failed entirely, but none of this documenting was up to my standards.  So, I decided to create yearly review books for each child.  They aren't cheap, but I figured if I did one per child per year, it wouldn't be so bad.  (The initial startup cost will be expensive because I want to be caught up to their ages, and have barely even begun)

Last night after my angels went to sleep, I sat on the couch next to T as he did some work, and I created TT's year in review book.  It is 20 pages long, and starts on the day she was born, July 6, 2010.  It shows pictures of what her life was like the first year, and some things that she was doing.  It doesn't go into details, such as, On October 1st, you sat up for the first time, etc, but it does give her a good idea of how her first year was spent.  I think this is something my kids will really enjoy someday.  My mom wasn't much of a documentor (perhaps it was because she was busy raising 4 kids) and I know I would enjoy looking back on my life in detail.  I hope my kids enjoy it to. 

I wanted to show ya'll a preview of the book, but I'm having issues uploading pics from blogger. 

Happy Thursday!

My Nur

Something not unfamiliar to any adoptive parent is deciding if a behavior is adoption related or if there is something legit going on in your child that would have shown up regardless of adoption.  That is where I am constantly at with Nur.

Since the day I brought this child of mine home, I've seen some behaviors in him that I questioned.  I would bring these behaviors up to people, and was often met with a common response that adoption no longer plays a role in Nur's life and that his behaviors are all very normal.  I'd kindly nod my head and smile, and then make a mental note that that person, although loved and valuable in my life, is not someone I can talk to these sorts of things because they truly don't understand. 

Even though many in my life brush off my concerns, I still wonder about certain things on a daily basis.
"Did Nur do this because of this?"  That is a question I ask myself daily.  And am amazing thing happened over my Christmas break.  Other people finally started listening to some of my concerns, and even mentioned that they see some things in Nur also. 

So next week, I'm going to face my fears, and bring up to Nurs pediatrician something that I've been worried about almost since day one of meeting my son.  I'm going to ask my pediatrician if he thinks it's a good idea to test Nur to see if he is on the Autism Spectrum. I think he is, and perhaps the pediatrician will agree with me, or perhaps he'll agree to have him tested, and maybe even perhaps he'll assure me that he isn't.  Either way, it's something I need to start saying out loud now. It's something that I've been worried about, and as Nur continues to get older and smarter, and more adaptable, there are still some behaviors that make me think that we could be dealing with something that isn't adoption related, and something that is at least worth looking into. 

Here is the thing I've learned about parenting Nur.  My love for him only grows deeper and stronger as the days pass.  Early on, I sometimes struggled with attachment, but those struggles are long gone.  Perhaps I couldn't have dealt with the Autism Spectrum Disorder early on in our attachment process, but I'm more ready to deal with it now.  Because I love this child of mine so very much, and whatever he is struggling with, or not struggling with, I love him fiercely and perfectly, and I know I will work hard to get him the resources for these things. 

Here's hoping that I'm wrong! But if I'm not, we'll get through this as a family.