No Small Feat

Purple Power!

Today is Spirit Day where individuals are asked to show their support for victims of bullies by wearing purple. I say it is about time the nation stand up and take notice of exactly how damaging bullying can be... and with the recent suicides of several victims of bullying, how dangerous.

I was the victim of bullying. I imagine people didn't really make much of it. They made fun of my hair, height, overall appearance, said I'm ugly, not worthy of talking to, isolated in the classroom, my BFF suddenly walking away from our friendship in 6th grade because the popular kids liked her and I was a liability. 

All of that happened to me - and then some.  And I kept it ALL inside and was hospitalized at the ages of 9 and 11 for stomach issues that were never diagnosed. Pardon the pun, but my gut tells me that it was a physical reaction to my emotional stress. I distinctly remember thinking about suicide in my early teen years and also began using drugs about the age of 13. 

So. This is not just a gay/lesbian student issue, though that is the focus and I have no problem with that. But, ultimately, this is a call of support for ALL victims of bullying. 

Below is a video of Enimem's that spotlights the bully/victim relationship.  Below the video is a portion of the lyrics of the song. I love it because it tells the bully to go f*ck himself (or herself). Empowerment is the best anticdote. Let's help these children become empowered!

It's a little too late to say that you're sorry now
You kicked me when I was down
Fuck what you say, just (don't hurt me, don't hurt me no more)
That's right bitch: and I don't need you, don't want to see you
Bitch you get (no love)
You show me nothing but hate
You ran me into the ground
But what comes around goes around
I don't need you (don't hurt me)
You (don't hurt me no more)
That's right, and I don't need you, don't want to see you
You get (no love)
Bitch you get (no love)
And I don't need you

The Inner Voice

 

I just finished reading Speak, a novel by Laurie Halse Anderson about a 14 year old girl named Melinda who is an outcast in high school after an incident that occurred over the summer which I will not reveal here and spoil.  If you have not yet read this book, please do.  This book does not contain fairies, vampires, werewolves or angels. What it does contain is far more frightening as it brings you back into that intensely uncomfortable skin we may have worn as teenagers.

I sobbed at several parts of the book and, no, I did not have the same experience as Melinda but I did have the isolation, awkwardness, and loneliness.  I was bullied and made fun of relentlessly and I specifically remember being in the gymnasiam in elementary school where everyone was signing yearbooks and almost no one signed mine.

Which brings me to my last point. Bullies. I was bullied. They exist in every generation from the Cleavers to the world that our children currently live in.  I wish I could blink my eyes like a genie and make them all disappear, but I do not have that ability. What I can hopefully provide a child who thinks death is better than being bullied is this.... persepective:

All the kids who made fun of me in elementary school are now "Facebook friends."  We all casually keep up with each other's lives and all the hurts have been healed. And my primary bully is said to have somewhere around 5-6 daughters which I find to be perfect revenge for him.

Look for the signs in your own children that something is causing them to withdraw.  Please remember; it is just as important to listen to what your child does NOT say as what they do.

The real gift.

The Christmas season is such a fun and festive time full of anticipation and surprises.  I fully embrace all aspects of this holiday but I never lose sight of why I celebrate Christmas.  I am so proud that even as our children are writing their "wish list" to send to Santa in the North Pole, they are asking us to read them the Bible story of when Baby Jesus was born and they want to talk about what He means to us.  They are learning what we know to be true; that the true gift of Christmas is not wrapped under a tree but is God sending Christ to walk among us and bring what we needed most, a savior.  The only gift that keeps on giving. 

Happy Christmas, everybody!

 

Unwrapped.

Tonight as we all sat around enjoying our Christmas tree I commented to the kids that there were no presents under the tree.  They both jumped up and ran to the tree and climbed underneath it.  Giggling they shouted "we're presents."  What they could not realize in this moment of playfulness is just how they are exactly that -- they are such a gift to us and there is nothing that can be placed underneath that tree with more value and worth than Mimi and Max.

One Way Ticket

Saturday, July 19, 2008 was no ordinary day as it was the day that I met my daughter for the very first time at the airport, my delivery room - the place where I first held my son over two years ago.  I woke up early to "It's daytime, Mommy!  It's daytime!!!"  Over breakfast and other morning routines the conversation was centered around our trip to the airport to see Daddy and our newest family member.  The plane was scheduled to land at 1:00 p.m. so we left the house at 11:00 a.m. 

We got on the highway and drove until we saw a "parking lot" before us and I realized that we would never get to the airport in time if we tried to make it through the "weekend paving project" and did what many others drivers did -- made a U-turn to the only exit before the point of no return while frantically calling my father-in-law who gave this directionally challenged chick very clear (and embarassingly obvious and simple) instructions which got us to the airport at 12:20 p.m.

After we entered the atrium, I took little brother over to get a cookie and something to drink.  I was calm, relaxed even (for me, anyway).  Even still, I did not taste the cookie which I normally would do as my stomach was all a flutter with anticipation.  The plane landed on time and I eagerly positioned us front and center of the ropes waiting to greet our family and dear friends shortly thereafter ... and then it dawned on me: CUSTOMS!  I did not account for that in my "perfect timing" scenario, nor did I factor in waiting in an airport with a child who is potty-training AND wearing underwear (i.e., no safety net).  So, about 20 trips to the bathroom later I had gone from cool and calm to frazzled and tired. 

... then I heard the sirens and like everyone else my eyes turned toward the noise only to see my son standing just a few inches behind me with his hand on the fire alarm and a look of shock and horror on his face that could not match my own.  I turned toward the approaching security with a contrite look and many mouthed "I'm so sorry's" - thankfully they felt my pain and smiled in a way that revealed they too must have toddler boys.

We waited some more... and some more... and some more... and, then, finally the phone rang.  I think it was now 3:30 p.m.  It was my husband announcing they were through customs.  We waited another 15 minutes and then... I saw my dear amazing friend Heidi appear, her face obscured by a videocamera.  She hugged me and asked how I felt.  I have not yet looked at the footage but I know that I felt overwhelmed by the last 3+ hours and probably said something awkward as I tried to mentally cleanse myself from the challenging wait and stared ahead at the escalator waiting and holding my breath until ...

... she was before me and my beautiful sweet daughter took my breath away.  I did not approach her with a hug or a kiss as to not overwhelm her more than she was already.  I just stared.  I don't even think I cried, and I'm a crier.  I just was stunned by having this little person in my life, my heart and our home - her home.  Truthfully, she was not very interested in any of us.  She was obviously tired, emotional, exhausted and confused.  After a few photos and some time to say hello to everyone we gathered the 15,000 pieces of luggage (only one of which was my husband's, as only a (crazy) man can go to India for 11 days with a carry-on bag) and we went home. 

I did not yet know how easy this would ultimately be, how naturally she just fits with us.  I had no crystal ball at the start to see just how willing she is to accept love and give love.  How funny she is, even though we don't quite know what she is saying yet.  How sweet she is with her brother or how she enjoys calling the dogs and sending them out after they eat their food.  I did not know that she would be happy with us as Mommy and Daddy or with her little brother. 

All I knew was that I would do anything for her, die for her and live to protect her, keep her safe and make her know she is loved.  It was instant, as it was for our son.  When I first laid eyes on her I did not know that it would not be difficult and, in fact, I had been preparing for the worst case scenario of older child adoptions.  Going in I knew only this: we were going to make it because family always does, without fail.  Where there is love and commitment there is a way through any challenge.  It has been just 6 days since she joined her family and she has already gone from:

• not looking me in the eye to grabbing my face and kissing my nose. 
• wanting nothing to do with her little brother to being an instant playmate and kind/helpful big sister to him.
• standing before us with no betrayal of an emotion and void of expression to having the biggest smile that starts in her eyes and is not forced but borne from real joy and excitement, happiness and enjoyment. 
• not responding to me to having playful conversations using gestures and words that she knows. 
• breaking down in hysterics at the very sound of the dogs behind a locked door to petting them and laughing at them laying about. 
• not saying a word AT ALL to saying things like "baseball" (yup, fits RIGHT in!) "octopus" (??), "thank you" and our personal faves "Mommy" and Daddy." 
• crying the first time I took her in the car (probably thinking "where will I go now?") to loving the car rides, asking to come with and always exclaiming "Thank you Mommy" when we return home.
• being afraid to sleep alone and having to sleep with her to feeling comfortable sleeping by herself through the night.

Here's the bottom line: Our daughter came to us on a one-way ticket.  That is first a fact but it is also a symbolic statement.  This is her life.  This is her home.  This is her family.  No preset notions. No expectations.  No conditions.  I love her with all my life.  I am so glad she was hand-picked by God to be my daughter.  I have so much more to say but that's the story of how it all began.  And now, some pictures:

 

World Refugee Day

To get involved, please visit: www.unhcr.org

I am my son's mother.

I have a lot that I want to say about the fact that 2 years ago today our son was placed in my arms forever.  It's hard to believe he's been home for 2 years already and even harder to believe he was not always here in our lives and in our hearts.  I feel, however, that I need to use this as an opportunity to comment on NBC's Today Show's promotional contest with Teleflora for "America's Favorite Mom."  They listed adoptive mom's under the "non-mom" category (instead of the "mom" category).  After a flurry of complaints they changed the categories to read "Mom's" and "Adoptive Moms" and lumped us in with Grandparents, Neighbors and Step-Moms.  Why not just call us what we are,"Mom?" 

It breaks my heart that some people see me as an asterisk to parenting as it demeans and belittles the very nature of being a mother.  My son sees me and he sees his mother.  I look at my son and I see my child.  Adoption is just how we came to be mother and son.

But I didn't let this ruin my Mother's Day as we took our son to the zoo for a really fun day.  I will be posting a lot more pictures and stories as his Aunt Linda was in town to help celebrate but right now I have to put my son to bed, read his bedtime stories and settle him in for a good night's sleep.  You know, like a mother... only for real.

Pathmaker.

In 1958 a woman named Mildred Loving married the man of her dreams, Richard.  There was one problem, though.  Their marriage was illegal.  The reason: she was black and he was white (see Virginia's Racial Integrity Act of 1924).  They were forced to leave their home state of Virginia, the only home they ever knew.  But real love is blind and boundless.  They fought all the way to the Supreme Court.  In a 1967 landmark decision, the U.S. Supreme Court unanimously ruled "there can be no doubt that restricting the freedom to marry solely because of racial classifications violates the central meaning of the equal protection clause."  The Lovings finally returned to Virginia after the ruling where they lived with their three children until Richard passed away in 1975.  His faithful wife, Mildred, has now joined him.

This ruling was rendered just a couple of years before the writer of this blog was born.  This writer who would thankfully become the mother of a beautiful African child.  My life is possible because of the trailblazers of the 1960s who fought tirelessly, sometimes to the death, and refused to stand down to the ignorant bullies of their day. 

So I write this tribute to the Loving family and it is filled with thanks and appreciation for their paving the way for my beautiful and culturally diverse family as well as those of my many dear friends.

Dragon Slayer

On the way to preschool this morning our son looked over at this patch of unkempt land we always pass (unruly trees and weed growth) and says to me very matter of fact, "Mommy there are monsters in there."  So I said, "Really? Well, who protects you from these monsters?"  He answered without hesitation, "God."

Can I get you something to drink?

Every time you draw a hot bath "just to relax" or take a long shower in the morning as you wake up and then drink a cup of tea, coffee or glass of water remember this:

This is an illustration for the western world to consider what 1.1 billion men, women and children around the world must do every day to have access to contaminated water.  It should not be this way, and it doesn't have to be.  It can change with our help. So please give.