On Being Adopted

It has been on my heart to write about my youngest and only adopted daughter, Soleil. We adopted her from Guatemala when she was 7 months old. She turned 10 in May. For those of you who don't "know" me, we have 3 older biological kids as well. Soleil went through a tender patch when she was seven when it suddenly dawned on her exactly how devastating it is to have been given up for adoption. It had actually started when she was just five. Evie, my then 8 year old, was asking me if she had ever been to New York City. I said, "Well, technically, no. But you were in my belly when we were there last if that counts for anything." As soon as I said it I saw the wheels start turning in Soli's head. "Was I in your belly, Mama?" We have always referred to Soli's birth/adoption story with as much candor as was appropriate for her age. So I said, "Remember you didn't grow in Mama's belly. You grew in your birthmother, Claudia's, belly. When you were born Foster Mary picked you up from the hospital and took care of you until you were 7 months old. Then Mama and Daddy went to Guatemala to pick you up and you have been with us ever since." She chewed on that for a minute, and then her little chin started to quiver and her eyes filled with tears as she leaned into me on the couch and whispered, "That's sad. They must miss me. I miss them, too." I expected that at some point the sadness of being adopted (or more accurately the sadness of having been given up for adoption) would hit her. But in my ignorance, I expected it to be...later. I expected the anguish to come during her tweenage years. I expected anger to come after that. At 5 years old I didn't think she would be able to wrap her baby brain around it. But she did. At least part of it. She felt the loss of both her birth mother and her foster mother profoundly. And it astonished me.

Fast forward a couple of years. Soleil was 7+ years old. She experienced a couple of months of heavy grieving. She was SO sad as she began to piece her life's puzzle together. The idea that she was born to a woman that didn't keep her was devastating to her. We had many heart to heart conversations during those months where she would crawl into bed with me and cry. She would say, "But why didn't she want me? Why didn't they keep me? Don't they miss me?" It was a helpless, heartbreaking realization to come to -- that I couldn't rescue my daughter from her pain. All I could do was hold her hand as she walked her path of grief. And I suppose that's the truth in parenting. We can't rescue our children from their paths. If we are lucky they will allow us to hold their hands as they navigate their own bumpy paths of life.

I was as gentle as possible saying, "I'm sure they miss you and think of you every day. In fact, Claudia might be thinking of you this minute and missing you as much as you're missing her. She was very brave to let you live with a family that could take care of you. She knew that she wouldn't be able to give you enough food and clothes and shoes."

"I wouldn't mind having no shoes if I could be in Guatemala with my birth family that matches me."

She was able to describe to me that she imagined her birth family in Guatemala complete with a brown mom and dad and a brown baby brother. All that was missing was her.

We have always spoken to Soleil with the utmost reverence for her birth country and respect for her birthmother, honoring her as a brave and selfless person. In doing so, I realized that we had inadvertently painted a perfect picture of life in Guatemala. And to a 7 year old adoptee that didn't make sense. If life in Guatemala is so rosy and my birthmother is so perfect then why couldn't I stay there? I understood that the time had come to introduce some of the harsh realities of life in Guatemala. I was delicate but clear as I described children eating from trash cans, sleeping alone and shivering in drainage ditches, begging and abandoned on the streets of Guatemala City. Things I had seen with my own eyes that had inspired me to adopt a child from Guatemala in the first place. I explained that Claudia did not want her to be alone and scared or eating from trash cans. So she made a brave and very hard but good decision to let her be adopted so that she would never be hungry, or cold, or scared, or alone. I could see that it hit home and the tears began to flow again.

Sometime later she wrote me a note. It said, "Dear Mom. I love you and our family. I don't ever want to leave." Initially, I thought she was worried that she had hurt my feelings by saying that she wanted to live in Guatemala with her birth family. So later I asked her, "Honey, what did you mean when you said you don't ever want to leave?" Her big brown eyes turned to liquid and she said, "What if they want to come take me away? I don't ever want to leave you." She crumbled into my arms. It dawned on me that although she will always mourn the loss of a birth family that she will likely never know, some of the torment that she felt during that time was the result of thinking that someone could show up at our house in the middle of the night and take her away from us. How terrifying to a little girl.

"Honey, no one can take you away from us. Even if you wanted to go, we wouldn't let you. You're our daughter and you belong with us."

"But what if they changed their minds and came to our house to take me away?"

"Even if they came to our house they can't take you away. No one can ever take you away just like they can't take Evie or Emerson or Cole. You are legally our daughter." (That word legally is so abstract to a 7 year old.) "We have the paperwork that says so."

Her eyes lit up. "You have paperwork?" (Aside - Soli LOVES paperwork. She can often be found sifting through the recycling bin by Dave's desk, rescuing bills and payment stubs and envelopes to add to the clipboard that she carries around to take "notes".)

"Yes. We have the paperwork. From Guatemala. That says no one can ever take you away."

"Can I see it?"

"Yes. And I can even make you a copy that you can have for your clipboard."

"Thanks, Mom."

We met Soleil's birth family in Guatemala for the first time in October of 2015. Soli was 9 years old. It was a heartbreakingly beautiful reunion of the likes I am certain I will never experience again. I was stunned and amazed by her grace and poise and her ability to give and receive love unconditionally. And I was equally amazed that her vision of having a brown family, all matching her, was absolutely accurate. Her birth father and birth mother are still together. And she has not one baby brother, but two (100% biological siblings), as well as two older half brothers. One is also adopted to the States and the other is still living with the family in Guatemala. After meeting them, I watched a very visceral peace come over Soleil. It's as if she now has all of the pieces to the puzzle of her life and can put them together and see the beautiful image of Self take shape in her mind's eye.

Recently, while cleaning out her room, we came upon the clipboard. We looked at each other and smiled. And she said, "I don't need that anymore, Mom. Will you save it for me in my baby book?"

For sure.

Brown is Beautiful

We were on our sailing trip in Central America in 2012, and out of the blue Soleil said to me, "Mama, I wish I was beautiful like you."

"What?! Honey, you are gorgeous. What do you mean?"

"I wish I had pink skin like you guys."

Uhhhh. My worst nightmare. My absolute worst nightmare. There's no dancing around this topic with a child in a mixed race family. ESPECIALLY, when she is the ONLY one! I tried to convince her that it's not the color of your skin that matters but who you are on the inside that counts. She didn't buy that for a second. With the look on her face she said to me, Mom, seriously. That is SO cliche. Next I tried to convince her that we all have different color skin. We lined up our arms. See? Mine is quite pasty, Daddy's is more tan, Cole's is quite pink, Evie and Emerson are a little yellowish, and yours is a beautiful shade of chocolate-mocha-latte-brown. But she and I both knew that was a bunch of crap, too. You are all pink and I am brown, she said.

I decided to change tacks. Cole had been given the equivalent of a Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition from Latin America. The women were stunning. And they all had varying shades of chocolate brown skin. The pictures were very tasteful and exquisite. I showed it to her and asked her about the women, "Do you think she's beautiful?"

"Yes."
"What color is her skin?"
"Brown."
"What about her? Do you think she is beautiful?"
"Yes."
"What color is her skin?"
"Brown."
"What color is your skin?"
"Brown."
"Brown skin is beautiful. YOU are beautiful. Brown is beautiful."

Cole gave her that magazine and for the next few months she would thumb through the pages and admire the beautiful brown women. "Brown is Beautiful" became our favorite family saying as we traveled through Central America. Everywhere we went we made a point to notice beautiful brown people and whisper to each other, "Brown is beautiful".

A turning point came one day on the boat when I was downloading pictures to my computer. I came across one that I had taken of Soleil on the beach. The setting sun on her face was stunning. I called her to me and said, "Look at this girl." She stared at herself for a long moment and said, "Brown is beautiful, Mama."

It sure is, my sweet girl.

Soleil - Sayulita December 2011

Birthday Girl....

My baby girl turned 6 yesterday. She's so big. I can't believe it. Happy 6th birthday to my sweet Soleil. We celebrated with a visit to the zoo and a road trip through the Belize countryside. Here's my girl on her special day.  

Our boat was so very festive for Soli's birthday morning. 

 A special package from some special grandparents arrived just in time for the special day.

 Fruity Pebbles and Polly Pockets. It doesn't get much better than that, does it? 

My beautiful girl.

At the Belize Zoo. We have a hard time following rules. Like don't touch the animals. I'm so sorry.
We can't help it.

How old are you? How old? Oh. Six. 

The water slide and "beach" where we are staying at the Cucumber Beach Marina here in Belize City.  The kids are playing there now for a post birthday activity (we celebrate the whole month long) while I enjoy internet and a pina colada at the overlooking restaurant. Ahhh. Heaven. 

Rock on, Sista!! 

We love you, Soli May! Happy Birthday, Baby Girl.

*We've been having the most delightful time sailing through the islands off of Belize. We are here in Belize City for some internet,  reprovisioning, and repairs. Pictures of our island adventures to come. Stay tuned...

Hair Brained...And Five Years Ago Today

Three days 'til we embark on the adventure of a lifetime.

And am I ever hair brained!

Let me explain.

Being that my list is about 7 iPads long, time is currently one commodity that cannot be wasted. Gas, on the either hand, is not nearly in such short supply. So this morning I needed to run to school to snap a quick picture for yearbook (remember when I had all that "free time" for things like yearbook?). Anyway, I decided that I was far too busy to walk the two and a half blocks to school. Better to waste gas over time, I reasoned. So I drove. And parked right in front of the school. Before long "snapping a quick pic for yearbook" turned into "snapping a quick pic for yearbook, then sorting through a monster pile of lost and found (yes, found it), and then discussing the ins and outs of my homeschooling plan with the principal". By the time I left the school I was so short on time that I nearly ran all the way home. Only to find that my car had been stolen!

Honestly, if my brain weren't attached I may forget to pack it. But, at least the yearbook will be done.

On another note entirely, five years ago today we landed in soggy San Francisco.  After living in Guatemala for two months, we were finally bringing home our brand new baby girl. It was such a happy day. We love you, Sunshine. Check out that story here.

Fall

Let me tell you a little something about myself. And I'm not proud. I may need medication. Or an intervention.

Every year in August the kids go back to school. Like clockwork. And sometime shortly thereafter I go to "Back to School Night". This year I went to four "Back to School Nights". And I, like clockwork, feeling delightfully rejuvenated and full of myself after a nice sunny summer, was ready to conquer the world.
 Halloween Party? Sign me up.
The kindergarten Harvest Festival? Sure, I'll do that. Sounds fun.
Yearbook? Why not? - I already take a million pictures.
Volunteer in the classrooms? Yes.
Help with the Golf Tournament. You bet.
You need an Airband Chair Person? I can do that.
Team mom? Yes.
Brownie leader? Of course.
Anything else? Oh, yeah. This year I thought it would be fun to teach the fifth graders Spanish. (I don't even have a fifth grader.) You know what? Throw in the fourth graders, too. (I don't even have a fourth grader.)
And, then like clockwork right about this time of year, every year,  it all starts falling apart and I start sprouting new gray hairs as I realize I can't be in two places at once. Or three. Like the Third Grade Halloween party and the Kindergarten Harvest Festival and taking pictures of the Halloween parade for yearbook.
When will I learn? But now you know what I've been doing instead of Blogging.

But I will tell you this. Our urban farm has reached a new "egg"cellent level of existence.

I'm so pleased. Happy Fall. 

And here are a few more pics just because I love you and who knows when I'll be sitting here again...

 We went to a beach wedding. 

  Took the kids to Disneyland. Name that ride.

 I'm pretty sure I had those exact sunglasses when I was his age. Loved 'em. 

 We grew this singular, darling fig on the fig tree we planted last spring on our "farm". (Disclaimer: the fig was already on the tree when we bought it so I don't know if we can really take credit for "growing" it. But we did ripen it. And it was yummy. 

Look at my "tough as nails" 8 year old daughter going head to head with a big ol' 7th grade boy!

You wanna know where she gets her toughness? I'll give you one guess...

 Ahh. How sweet is he? He gets that from his dad. Thank goodness. 

Another one from "Team Mom". Feisty as they make 'em. But such a great kid. (Warning: I'm about to brag. Feel free to avert your eyes.) He got almost straight A's on his first report card in high school including 3 A+'s (P.E., Geometry, & Biology). We won't talk about that B- in English. 

 Another one from the Happiest Place on Earth. Name that location...

And to round out the family - another one for "Team Dad" so sweet and gentle (usually). How cute is she at the Harvest Festival? 

Now I'm really going. Hugs, H

I'm In Love with a Chick

Here's Cole with his choice - a Speckled Sussex.

We're having way too much fun with our new baby chicks.

Emerson went with a Sussex, too. 

Mommy and Soli lovin' on a little Dominique. 

Evie chose a white Silkie. 

Soli and her black Silkie. 

Silkies grow up to be super fluffy with feathers on their feet.  And they're a bantam breed which means they'll be smaller. 

I let the kids choose from breeds that are known for being good pets and are known for being quiet.  This is a Speckled Sussex and she'll grow to be a normal size hen. This breed is also known for being good "layers". 

We ended up with 2 Speckled Sussexes, 2 black Silkies (like this one) and 1 white Silkie.  Because the Silkies are a Bantam breed they can't be sexed. So we may end up with a rooster (or two or three) which we'll have to find a new home for. Against HOA's. It is an URBAN Farm after all. 

Here are the girls making use of their doll slings from Guatemala. I'll give you one guess as to what they're carrying around. 

On my Urban Farm all pets are required to get along. Here's Zona meeting the Sussex twins.  Do you see the other one nestled under her chest? So stinkin' cute. And she didn't even try to eat them. 

Jett, on the other hand, was licking his chops immediately. See his tongue and how Dave is keeping his hand between it and the chickie?  He'll be so busted if he eats one of my chickies. Forget that whole "Circle of Life" thing. 

Soli and I enjoying our sunny farm. You can't really see them, but my little brood is cozied in behind my back. 

We've been taking our babes out to the garden to let them scratch amongst the veggies.  They're completely contained in the raised bed and they are so stinkin' cute pecking around for....I don't really know what they're pecking for. We have to keep them in a box with a heat lamp in the kitchen until they are a couple months old. So it's fun to get them out of their box and into the sunshine. Hopefully the dogs will be used to them by the time they are ready for the coop and to be "backyard chickens". 

And here's our newest addition to the family. We should have named him Rowdy.  Or Naughty.  

And it's a good thing he's so cute because he is Trouble with a capital T. 

Here he is "herding" Soli. It's hard to tell from the picture, but he's actually moving her with his body. He is a cattle dog after all. 

Thankful...

...for sun kissed skin and knees with band-aids. 

And for this girl who adopted us 4 years ago today. Happy Gotcha Day, Princess Peanut Butter Cup!

...for polyester bell bottoms from Good Will.
And kids who are brave enough to wear them on stage for Airband and rock Stayin' Alive.
(Check out the YouTube video HERE. They won first place. We're so proud. )

...for a fall sport other than football and soccer.

And this second son; so much like his dad.

...for wigs.
And the kid with the mullet who's as tall as me.

...for hair scrunchies that match their soccer uniforms.
And this girl; my very best soccer player.


...for this Stewart Marine shirt that used to be Dave's.
And these grandparents who drop everything to come play with us.


...for waterpolo.
And this hotty who, at 41, still rocks the Speedo.

...for neighbors who take great pics of my kids.

And toothless grins. 

...for this awesome catch. (Click to make bigger.)

And a football season with no broken bones. 

...for roadside Taquerias.
And a lunch date with this Grandpa.

...for a strawberry, an Alice, an Earp, and a bling. 

And for these kids; still excited to dress up on Halloween.  

...for da Bulls and da Broncos. 

Can't we all just get along? 

...for six weeks in Mexico. 

And coronas with lime.
(We'll be home for Christmas.)

...for kid sized waves at Lancha.
And this surfer girl.


...for the sweet silence of the sea.
And this boy; he makes my heart smile.

...for the splendor of our Earth. 

And sharing it with magnificent creatures like this. 

...for sting rays whose stings hurt like a mother but don't do any permanent damage. 

And this boy who taught us that; the hard way. 

...for the Christmas picture; done for another year.

And for another year with this amazing family of mine.

Feliz Navidad,

Dave & Heather

Cole, Emerson, Eve & Soleil