their cheatin' hearts

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See these two? That's Jafta and Ryder. They have been best friends for five years. They met each other as babies and they love hanging out together. They are the same age, and Ryder lives down the street. All day, every day, Jafta is asking to hang out with Ryder. But . . . they go to different preschools. Jafta goes in the morning. Ryder goes in the afternoon. It's all very complicated and sad for these two.

Now, see this?

This is what happens when I have a desperately bored 3-year-old who mopes about while his siblings are at preschool all morning. He's been having clandestine playdates with Ryder, while Jafta is at school. If Jafta ever finds out about this, it would devastate him. Please don't tell.

It only happened a few times.

It doesn't mean anything. I promise.

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rage against the minivan

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It has happened. I own my very own minivan. In my heart, I'm still rebelling against it. There is rage. Oh yes, there is rage. But also, there is a sliding door that closes with a button, and a trunk that fits my ginormous stroller. So there you go.

And really, how mortified can I be about my own ride when my new son is rolling the neighborhood on a princess bike? It's all about perspective.

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bigotry, blindness, & basketball

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I signed all three of my "big kids" up for a basketball class. I thought it would be really fun to put them in a class where they could learn together, so I searched for one that accepted kids age 3-5. The class was held at a upscale community center in one of the swankier areas of Newport Beach.


(I was also hoping to get India interested in something other than dressing up in princess costumes. This is here "I can't believe you are making me wear pants" face.)

As soon as I pulled up, I got a knot in my stomach. I just had this feeling - an intuition - that this may not be the most welcoming place for two black kids. I literally had this thought as I walked through the door, and had a moment where I tried to put my cynicism and paranoia in check.

The other kids started arriving, and everyone played for a little. India was suddenly feeling shy and clingy, so I was standing in the middle of the court, holding a baby and trying to loosen India's grip on my pantleg, while most parents were in the bleachers. There were two young coaches, and they called for all of the kids to circle up and hold hands.

And that's when things started to move in slow motion.

I see Jafta grab the hand of a boy nearby. We'll call him Jimmy. Jimmy looks at Jafta, and laughs nervously, and said, "That's a black kid!" Okay, no harm. He is a black kid. But then Kembe tries to hold Jimmy's other hand, and he refuses, saying "Another black kid? I don't want to hold hands with another black kid!"

I am mortified. I look at the coaches, but can't tell if they have heard. Another kid moves into the line and grabs Jimmy's hand. He reluctantly remains holding hands with Jafta. I don't think Jafta caught what he was saying. Kembe looked clueless. Since he still speaks primarily Creole, I don't think he understood. Crisis averted. Sort of?

But then . . . enter another boy. We'll call him Timmy. Kembe is still standing there looking to hold hands with someone, and it's the only opening in the circle. Timmy sees this, and the coaches encourage him to grab his hand. But Timmy says, verbatim, "No! I don't like the brown. I don't want to hold hands with the brown kid."

I am stunned. I say, to no one in particular, "We can all hold hands with each other, no matter what color." One of the coaches coaxed him to hold hands with Kembe. He is still protesting, but holds his hand and finally quiets down when the coach starts talking.

At this point, I'm having of those moments when you can feel the back of your neck getting hot, and your heart rate increasing. I was PISSED. But also, really hurt for my kids. I needed to do something. I took a deep breath and identified the parents of Jimmy (the first kid). Once the kids were distracted and playing, I approached Jimmy's dad and quietly told him what happened. Jimmy's dad got immediately defensive. He told me I was wrong - that it hadn't happened, even though he wasn't standing close enough to hear the incident. Jimmy's mom approached and when she heard what I was saying, she got even more hostile. She basically took a "how dare you suggest my son is a racist" approach. I tried to calmly tell her that I didn't think it was an indictment on her parenting or a reflection of their views. I tried to explain that kids sometimes experiment with power by being exclusive over gender, disability, and race, and that they just need encouragement to be more inclusive. She was totally angry with anything I had to say. It ended with them basically calling me a liar.

Another mom standing nearby approached me to tell me that she heard the whole incident, and that I was right. (Not sure why she couldn't say that in the presence of these other parents to back me up, but whatever).

At this point, I thought about just scooping up my kids and leaving. It's one thing to have your kids treated poorly, but it is entirely another when parents refuse to acknowledge or hold them accountable. But my kids seemed to be having fun - I'm not so sure they were even aware of what went on.

I thought about approaching the other boy's mom, but I just felt defeated from the first conversation. There have been a few times where I've had to approach a parent about this kind of behavior towards Jafta. It always goes the same way. Parents are always incredulous that their child could behave in such a way, so they accuse me of lying or exaggerating, or throw my kid under the bus as somehow "bringing it on himself". After a while, it doesn't even feel worth it to engage with other parents. It never ends well. No one wants to believe that their kid could be exclusionary about race. Even though most of us watch kids of this age spend a considerable amount of time excluding each other on gender. But somehow, people assume the school-aged sorting and exclusion game magically glosses over skin tone.

After the practice was over, the kids had some free time in the gym, and Jimmy's mom approached me again. Not in an attempt to apologize, but in an attempt to defend her kid. Because, in her words, "he needs to be protected, too". (Not sure from what).

What she said next, in my opinion, illustrates the root of the problem. She told me that her son has always been instructed to never point out another person's skin color - so she was having a hard time believing that he said out loud that my son was black. This was the point where I might have lost my patience a bit, and through gritted teeth I reminded her that he IS black, and that pointing out that he is black is perfectly fine with me and NOT AN INSULT. What was insulting is the fact that he didn't want to hold the hand of another child because he is black. Probably because he has been taught at home that saying someone is black or brown is something taboo. Therefore, the message sent is that black people are inherently problematic and scary. Too scary to even talk about or name.

Needless to say, I went home feeling pretty sad, and worried about how this dynamic will play out for Jafta as he starts school next year. I won't always be there to protect him, and teachers are not always equipped to deal with this stuff, either. I've certainly sat in a parent-teacher conference where a preschool teacher patted my hand and assured me that "these kids don't notice that stuff."

I will say this: if you read this and it makes your heart hurt a little, and if you have children of your own, think about how you can prepare them to be better citizens of the world. I truly believe that our colorblind era of denial is not serving our children well. Kids do see color - and when parents ignore it, the result is that MY KID gets to become the object lesson when parents finally recognize the narcissism and xenophobia in their own child. Children are social beings, and one of the first social lessons they learn is to sort and group. Boys hang out with boys. Girls hang out with girls. If your children shows these preferences, chances are they have racial preferences, too. This doesn't make them little racists. It doesn't mean they have a future in the KKK. It just means that they need some gentle guidance from you to be a little less self-centered. And really, is that last sentence what parenting is all about? Training our kids to move from a self-centered infant into a more respectful and empathic person . . . that's the stuff of raising kids. Racial acceptance should be a part of that.

At a certain age, all kids are prone to leaving others out based on external factors. This can be gender, race, disability, etc. I think kids need help to overcome this natural tendency to seek out "sameness". I also think they need intentionality, especially when living in non-diverse areas. The kids who were so cruel today? I bet they've never played with a black child before. They've probably never been in a situation where they were the minority - which is such a valuable experience. The parents have the privilege of thinking that none of that matters, because it doesn't affect their child.

There is a new book called NurtureShock that puts this well:

How to Raise a Racist

Step One: Don’t talk about race. Don’t point out skin color. Be “color blind.”

Step Two: Actually, that’s it. There is no Step Two.

Congratulations! Your children are well on their way to believing that [insert your race here] is better than everybody else.

What NurtureShock discovered, through various studies, was that most white parents don’t ever talk to their kids about race. The rule is that because we want our kids to be color-blind, we don’t point out skin color. We’ll say things like “everybody’s equal” but find it hard to be more specific than that. If our kids point out somebody who looks different, we shush them and tell them it’s rude to talk about it.

It's kind of like the sex talk. If we never talk to our kids about sex, they are gonna have to figure it out on their own. Which will probably lead to some not-so-great influences filling in their gaps of knowledge.

So talk to your kids about race. Please. Have an ongoing and frank conversation, and observe their interactions with children who are different. Assume that they will have biases, and confront them when they emerge. Before another humiliated child becomes a public object lesson.

Oh, and by the way. Those brown boys that got rejected in the circle? They had a great time.

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would ya, could ya?

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I have a couple requests. I am gonna be messing around with some technical stuff on my blog soon, including officially dropping the current domain host so it is no longer my last name. (And yes, I might be driving a minivan now. And no, I'm not changing my blog name. My feelings remain.)

Some of you have kindly linked to this blog from your own blogs, and I am so flattered. If you have linked to me, would you mind making sure it is linking to rageagainsttheminivan.com, and not to howertons.blogspot.com? Once I get my act together and make the switch, the blogspot will no longer work.

Or if you want a fancy button, I whipped this up:

<center><a href=" www.rageagainsttheminivan.com /"><img border="0" src=" http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y51/howertons/rageagainsttheminivanbutton.jpg " /></a></center>
(That's a sneak peek of the photos my new friend Drew took. Is she amazing or what?)

Also, if you read this in a reader (which you should, because it makes blog-reading sooo much easier), then do me a favor and subscribe to my new feed. Or you can subscribe even if you don't use a reader - and then nothing will happen other than boosting my numbers and my self-esteem (which is precariously low on account of the minivan I'm driving now). You can do that by clicking here. This will make sure the feed stays the same as I'm making these changes.

Okay, one last request, and this might steal ten minutes of your time, but I would really appreciate it. I've been asked to be a contributor at a collaborative adoption blog called Grown In My Heart. I am so excited about this, because it's an amazing group of smart women, writing about adoption from all aspects of the adoption triad. Grown In My Heart is trying to get a workshop/session slot for the upcoming Blogher conference, which is a big-time blogging event. I know there are so many women online that have formed bonds by finding other women dealing with infertility or adoption issues. Wouldn't it be great for us all to get to sit in a room together? If you would take a minute and vote, I would really appreciate it. You have to register, but it is SO fast. CLICK HERE. Register or sign in. Then just click on "I would attend this". (You don't have to actually attend to vote). Once the link switched to "I would NOT attend this", it means you're done.

Thank you!

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UNICEFED

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A couple weeks ago I had a talk with myself, where I said, "Hey grumpy lady, you need to stop ranting so much on your blog. Cool it with the UNICEF talk. You sound like a conspiracy theorist. Stick to safer topics that make you sound less crazy. Like poop."

But I find I just can't. The mistreatment of children makes my blood boil. The corruption of power makes my blood boil. The combination of these two things together, funded by the wallets of clueless and well-meaning Americans . . . is killing me. So, as a public service announcement, let's have a look at This Week In UNICEFED.

(Hopefully not to become a weekly feature here. But I make no promises)

First, we find an article in Time magazine with the title Unicef Against Orphanages. In it, UNCIEF is widely quoted, suggesting that orphanages are too dangerous, and that children could be subject to trafficking or child slavery if they were cared for at orphanages. There was a brief quote from a voice of reason, an American Christian missionary who helps run an orphanage in northern Haiti "You can't let a few misguided people like [the Idaho Idiots] cast a shadow over the genuinely good work others are doing with Haitian children."

Then the article goes on to say:

That's true; but the UNICEF registry, if it can really reach out to an appreciable number of Haitian kids, could at least show Haitians an alternative to their troubling tradition of discarding children in the face of poverty and all the country's other hardships.

This is where the author may have lost some critical thinking points. Because "registering" a child, while important, is not the same thing as "caring" for a child, nor does it solve the problem of children who have lost their parents. There could be a long, long wait between registering a child and finding a living person to care for that child. Why can't a child be registered, and then placed into the care of an already established orphanage until the parents are found? Why would UNICEF assume that reputable orphanages, registered with the Haitian government, can't be trusted to care for children? Adoptions in Haiti are closed, and registered orphanages are very aware of this fact.

Most people I know who do relief work would agree that a sign of an effective relief organization is its ability to work WITH already established and trusted charities, organizations and people already in the country. If I've ever seen a place where people need to pool resources, it's Haiti.

And yet, what is UNICEF doing with longstanding orphanages? The BRESMA orphanage has been highly publicized due to the dire condition their children were in after the quake. Their buildings were uninhabitable, they had no food and water, and many children were sick.

Their story was all over the news. Did UNICEF visit these children with relief? No. But once the children were taken to another orphanage that had space, UNICEF showed up. God's Littlest Angels had space, and beds, and these two orphanages made the logical decision to work together. Dixie Bickel is the founder of God's Littlest Angels. She has been in Haiti for 13 years and has a solid reputation. Here's what she said February 3rd:

I have really been praying about the problem with UNICEF. When I was downtown today, I talked to other schools and orphanages and they are having problems with UNICEF representatives too. It is like they have taken over in Haiti and appointed themselves as controllers of all activities for children! But I have given this problem over to God. I still feel some anger with them because of the injustice of having small children sleeping outside in poor conditions when there are orphanages that have empty beds waiting to take some children in, but I have given this over to God. He does not need my help in getting these children out of the camps and into childcare facilities! I have made everyone aware of the problem including UNICEF and IBESR staff. . . . . As the babies come in, we will do our best to care for them and keep them safe and healthy until their mothers can take them back with them again. I almost said...back home...but most do not have a home anymore.

And then on February 11th:

All I can think about is children and babies sleeping out on the ground in the rain. All I can say is PLEASE UNICEF and PLEASE Haitian Social Services, BRING THE BABIES TO GLA! They will eventually decide that they must do something with all of these orphans and place them in orphanages but how sick will the children be by that time?

I can feel Dixie's frustration, as someone who advocates for orphan care. It makes no sense. Her facility is top-notch for caring for sick babies. They have ample staff, incubators, and the ability to do IV drips. Why should children be sleeping outdoors in UNICEF camps when they could be registered and sent here until family is identified? Some of these children will be waiting so long. I'll show some pictures of UNICEF camps, too, but here is Dixie's facility. Again, remembering UNICEF's "against orphanages" stance:





And then this happened to Dixie on Friday:

I am angry today. BRESMA brought 32 children to GLA to get them inside and out of the weather. The children were getting sicker and sicker. Several had been in hospital and one had even died. The older children can tolerate being outside better than the babies. To save her children, the director of BRESMA made the decision to put them in GLA for 3 months until repairs could be made to her orphanage. Sounds simple, huh?

Well, UNICEF talked to Margarette and I on the phone Friday evening while Margarette was at GLA delivering the children. UNICEF knew that the children were being transferred to GLA. Today, UNICEF came on their own. No IBESR representative was with them. . . . Who is running Haitian Social Services? UNICEF? Can we not act to save our children and do what is best for them without the permission of UNICEF? All of these 32 children have adoptive families.

Unfortunately, the 10 American missionaries seem to have cast suspicion on everyone. But Dixie has been in Haiti for years, and is registered with IBESR (the Haitian version of social services). It's unbelievable to me that she would be treated this way, instead of being used as a resource for the THOUSANDS of displaced or orphaned children.

Then on Saturday, six children who were legally adopted and bound for the United States were stopped with their caregivers at the airport. A riot broke out when some Haitian men saw the children and assumed they were being kidnapped. These children had papers from the US Embassy and signed papers from the Haitian prime minister. They have been waiting to go home to their parents for weeks. Instead, the caregivers were detained and questioned for eight hours, and the children sent to a UNICEF camp. Now, obviously the riot is not UNICEF's fault. But why are this children being kept in a camp, instead of released back to their orphanage caregivers? The orphanage responsible for these kids is Children of the Promise. They have a great reputation and have been operating in Haiti for a long time. They are furious that the children are being held at this camp in these conditions. Here are some photos they posted of the children in the UNICEF tent. They report that there were no bottles or diapers for the babies and very few adults. The tents are hot and the babies are being cared for by older children.

Hopefully, the situation for these children will be resolved soon, and they will travel to the US to be with their families. But for the thousands of children orphaned or displaced in the quake - they will not be so lucky. If UNICEF continues to call the shots, child will live in these conditions indefinitely - sleeping in crowded and sweltering tents while IBESR registered orphanages have empty beds . . . all so UNICEF can maintain control.

I am beyond frustrated that they are wielding political power in ways that put vulnerable children at risk, and I'm angered that it is being done in the name of social justice.

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nothing like a little monday morning politics to get the juices flowing . . .

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I thought this was an interesting interview with Colin Powell. First of all, I am intrigued by anyone who is able to hold some objectivity in the polarized political climate our government seems to favor. I get increasingly frustrated with the two-party, "I'm always right, you're always wrong" rhetoric, and the shifting of blame and unwillingness to work together. I appreciate anyone who is able to rise about the groupthink at this level of power. I think he makes some good points.


Watch CBS News Videos Online


Thoughts?

Thanks to blurbomat for the link.

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cheaper than therapy

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I went on a run today. It was my firs run since the half-marathon in January. My first run since Haiti. Oh, it felt so good. If I can manage to do it every day, I know I would feel better. I did (reluctantly) have a five-year-old tag-a-long and it would have bit a little bit more peaceful had I been alone. But still . . . it was awesome. Jafta and I hit the bike path, and there were only about five professional-looking bikers that had to swerve from his unbalanced path. Kind of a record for him. He talked the ENTIRE TIME, but I turned my ipod up and gave him the occasional "Really? Uh-huh . . . yes". A few times I would turn the volume down. He was mostly talking about alligators and what they like to eat. I'm not even sure he was talking to me. Just talking.

It was weird to be running again. I had a rocky start, because I am breaking in a new pair of running shoes. At first my knees were really hurting, and I think I looked Phoebe from friends. But after about a half mile, I felt pretty good, and managed to finish three miles feeling decent.




This morning was my first time to really assess my running gear since my Haiti trip. I flew down just after our half marathon in Florida, and I had all of my running stuff with me. I had done what I do when I am stressed and packing - I just kind of threw everything into a bag and figured I would sort when I arrived. Unfortunately, that bag had to be abandoned at the embassy - which is really not a big deal given the circumstances. But I do have to laugh at myself a bit, because in the frantic five minutes I had to try to shove a few items from that big suitcase into a backpack for the evacuation, I made some very poor choices. In the stress of the moment, I remember thinking that I needed to have plenty of stuff for Karis in case we got stuck somewhere, and that I should try to grab anything that was really expensive. For some reason, the only thing that popped into my mind was a pricey hot pink thermal hoodie that I bought from the Nike store when I learned that our race would be in frigid weather. It is something I will probably never wear again - unless I go jogging in the frozen tundra of Alaska. It is one of the few personal items I made it home with, and now it is the running joke whenever I am at a loss for something to wear. I just hold up the pink monstrosity and remind Mark, "well, at least I have THIS!"

So, just to recap:

*things I shoved in my backpack - 20 diapers, 5 footed pj's, a tacky but spendy pink sweatshirt, and a technical running shirt I got free from Disney

*things I left - all my bras, my navigational system, my nike running sensor, four pairs of jeans and many shirts I would actually wear every day, and any running clothes I owned that are appropriate for SoCal weather.

Oh well. Not a single regret when I hear that commercial flights are just now resuming to Port-Au-Prince.

I am still trying to process what's going on in Haiti right now. I am trying not to rant about UNICEF again. I am probably going to rant about UNICEF again. But for now, if you are following what is going on in Haitian adoptions and want to stay informed, you can check out what Tara and Dixie have to say.

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adoptive parents and children detained in Haiti

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This was forward to me by my friend Debra. Sarah Thacker is in Haiti right now. She went down to try to bring their child home - a legally adopted child who had permission from both Haiti and the US to leave. Instead, she found herself detained and her child was taken to a UNICEF camp. She wrote this today:

On Friday morning, I flew into PAP on an Agape flight. I was met at the airport by two escorts from the orphanage and six children. I was coming to help escort my son, Reese, age two, and five other children home to the United States. We waited all day at the US Embassy for the last military flight out of there. (It was so wonderful to be with Reese) All of the children were cleared to leave, signed off by the Prime Minister, etc. The flight was cancelled. Big surprise. We were told we could make our own private arrangements b/c there would be no more military flights out. We arranged to have Agape flights fly us out on noon on Saturday. We stayed with the children in a guest house on Friday night.

On Saturday morning, we packed up the kids in a taxi and headed to the airport. Minutes after the taxi dropped us off, we were attacked by an angry mob of men saying that we were trying to steal the children. They tried to take the kids from us. The Haitian police came and detained all of us. It was horrible until the US Embassy got there. They were pretty worthless though. We sat on the street with the children outside of the airport for six hours while the Haitian police, border patrol, immigration, and the US embassy had a huge pissing match. It was unbelievable. Then they took us down to a police station for three hours while they continued to sort things out. They let us go, but they took the children from us and they are sitting in a UNICEF tent camp. I'm writing this out and I can't even believe that this has happened. I am staying at an international doctor's house. The US Embassy is "working" on it. Actually, I'm pretty sure that Hillary Clinton has gotten involved. It escalated quickly. I know for sure that my senator is heavily involved. My husband is in Florida right now waiting for us to get out of Haiti. He was going to meet the plane on Saturday afternoon.

Sarah is just one of many families affected by this. I haven't seen this on the news yet, but I suspect it will be soon.

With so much suffering going on in Haiti, focusing on legally adopted children seems senseless. I am at a loss for words. Please pray for these families, and for the children who have been separated from their new parents. I can't imagine how traumatic this is for all of them.

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highs and lows

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It's been almost a month since Kembe came home. It's hard to believe . . . it feels like he has been here forever, and yet we still feel like we are in transition mode as a family. I definitely haven't found our "new normal" yet - so far life feels more like a triage situation, where we are just reacting to chaos and crisis as it comes. And it does seem to keep coming. I'm hoping things settle down soon.

Our house is finally feeling well. Mostly well, that is. All of us fell sick over the past month, many of us more than once. I'm happy to report that we've gone a week without anyone puking on their bed.

Kembe is adjusting to the family remarkably well. He is a very loving and affectionate kid, and seems to be bonded to us already. He hugs us (especially the baby) and tells us he loves us often. He has been grieving, to be sure. I know he misses his nannies and his friends, and this sadness is very present when he is tired or upset. Over the first few weeks he had crying spells each day - those have decreased to a few times a week. He seems happy and excited most of the day, and is such a great fit for our family dynamics. He is even begging to go to preschool with his siblings. He is picking up English very quickly, and my other two are picking up Kreyole. Bedtime is now called "domi time", and all three say "mwen vle dlo" when thirsty.

The other three kids have transitioned very well, too. I think there was some initial disappointment on Jafta's part that Kembe didn't walk in and immediately take to playing Transformers and dressing up in Spiderman costume, and all the other things he loves to do most and pictured himself doing with a new brother. I had to do a lot of explaining about a)the age difference, and b)Kembe's lack of exposure to American character branding. They are figuring out how to play together in ways that are mutually enjoyable - it usually involves wrestling or pretending to be lions. India and Karis think that Kembe is the funniest kid on the planet (and really, he is). They just giggle and laugh at him all day.

If I am gonna be totally honest, I think the transition has been most difficult for me. Most of this is due to a convergence of ridiculously ill-timed issues that should only be mildly stressful, but that seem overwhelming when combined with a lack of sleep, a complete void of free time, a perpetually messy house, and some serious PTSD that I've been too busy to deal with. Every day there seems to be a long list of phone calls and paperwork, whether it be calling USCIS looking for lost papers, or calling Refugee Resettlement to get a medical referral, or filling out insurance forms, or scooping poop into a test vial, or filling out tax forms, or making fingerprint renewal appointments, or filling out kindergarten applications . . .etc etc etc. I simply cannot express the amount of phone calls I have made trying to figure out Kembe's refugee status and how to proceed with adoption (or even show that we are somehow his legal guardians until that time). Then there is the minor issue of trying to buy a new car - which I got such good feedback about, thankyouverymuch. But even armed with some realistic parameters of what I want, I am at a loss at how to actually go look at these cars with four kids in tow. We are planning on going to look at a few tomorrow while Mark is home, which is probably not the best use of my small window of sane time with another parent around, but it is what it is. I am really, really hoping we find something. As a friend helped me articulate today, I just need to nest in a car. I have been very fortunate to have people generously loan me cars to drive - but I need to settle in and get used to a car that is mine. Probably one of the reasons I've been feeling so crazy in the last few weeks is that I've felt very paralyzed to leave the house - partly out of fear of loading all these kids in and out of the car, and partly because the "adoption experts" say that we should be staying home. I think we've done a good job of that, and I think, for everyone's sake, it's probably time to start venturing out of this 1400 square foot box of crazy.

I believe my 20-year-old self might have considered hurling herself out of a window at reading the paragraph above. But yes, I just implied that my quality of life will change with a car that allows better loading and unloading of children. And yes, that car probably means a minivan at this stage. My rage against the minivan is turning into a quiet, bitter acceptance.

I'm hoping in the following month I can gain some confidence in venturing outside the home, and that a lot of this administrative stuff will be over, because it is a whole new level of mommy guilt as I sit on the phone for hours only to be told to call the next office, or to be met with an automated message in Vietnamese after pressing one for English, all while my bored son watches his new mommy scream "agent! agent!" into the phone in some futile attempt to get USCIS/ORRS/DHS/DHHS/DOJ/DMV/DCFS to allow me to talk to an actual person to get an actual answer.

I think my rage against the minivan has turned into rage against the government office phone loop system.

Nevertheless, I envisioned my son's homecoming involving much more cuddling and playing, and much less of me frantically making copies and filling out forms, and that reality is making me uneasy. I am so thrilled he is home and I am looking forward to getting a lot of this business behind us so we can relax and get into our groove as a family.

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keeping it real (nobody puts baby in a corner)

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I have a love/hate relationship with mom blogs. On many levels, I love it, because it allows me to feel connected to other moms during this season where I am rather isolated at home. I appreciate hearing that I'm not alone, and reading that others are having similar experiences. At the same time, I am also aware that blogging can become a medium for us to present our "best selves": from detailing homemade crafts to posting stunning photos of our kids, a blog can become a show-and-tell for moms that glosses over the hard parts with good lighting and soft filters. I love reading blogs and feeling inspired - really I do - but I sometimes wonder how all of this is setting up our expectations for the daily grind of motherhood.

So . . . I've decided to host my own linkup/blog carnival/McLinky/what-have-you. And instead of asking you to link back to your best recipe or your cute homemade birthday party invites or your adorable handmade . . . I'm gonna ask you to link back to a post where you are keeping it real. Maybe you've had poop flung at you from the tires of your son's bike, or dropped raw egg on your shoe, or flashed the audience of a circus while nursing, or spilled a drink down your pants at your child's birthday. Or maybe it's just me.

But something tells that, while the specifics may vary, we've all been there.

So, I'll start. My "keeping it real" moment this week occurred when I was attempting to clean out my garage. Posting pictures of my garage alone could suffice - I believe I could be a candidate for a Hoarders episode with my garage in its current state. I was trying to at least pave a path for the children to play, and Karis was crawling all over the place, finding stray leaves and twigs (and silverfish? perhaps?) and attempting to put them in her mouth. I thought that I should go grab the excersaucer so I could have a way to keep her contained. But the excersaucer was all the way in the house . . . and so bulky and heavy . . . and here I was in a garage full of plastic boxes . . .

So what do you think I did? I put my baby in a box. In the corner. And then I let her play with a knife. BECAUSE IT WAS THERE, AND IT MADE HER HAPPY.

(Please also note the graveyard of infant carseats behind her).

So that's my shining moment for this week. Well, one of them anyways. Wanna play? Just link back to your own blog below. Write a post, or find an old post, and give us your best moment. Or should I say not-so-best moment.





I will keep this up for about a week, and post another one in a few weeks. Or months. Or I might just get distracted and forget about it completely, but for now I'm a little giddy about the spree of mediocrity this experiment might inspire.

You can copy the code below into your post to get the title graphic for your own post. Or not. The bar is very low here, gals.






<center><a href=" http://www.rageagainsttheminivan.com"><img border="0" src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y51/howertons/keepingitreal.jpg" /></a></center>

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psychological interpretations of public questions at kindergarten information night

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I went to the Kindergarden Informacion Night at the public school I'm hoping Jafta can attend in the fall. This is not our neighborhood school (and to their credit, they did spell Information correctly). This school is a fancy new magnet school that all of the greater Newport area wants their kids to attend. There were A LOT of people there. And like many public meetings, the Q&A part went on for way too long, and so I got bored and started pscyhoanalyzing the intent of the questions. And perhaps mocking them a bit, too. Psychoanalyzing . . . mocking. It's a fine line.

I quickly learned that a public Q&A can be more than just a chance to have your questions answered. It can be a way to send a subtle message to everyone in the room about just how much YOUR KIDS deserve to go to this school. For example:


When you ask:
Is there going to be some sort of aptitude testing for kids to get in?

What you are really saying is:
How can we make sure to weed out the stupid ones?



When you ask:
In what ways will the school be able to quantify the unique outcomes of this particular learning style in contrast to other schools in the district?

What you are really saying is:
How can I have concrete evidence that my kid's school is better than my friend's kids' school when I am in a group and need to brag?



When you ask:
Will you be offering a state-funded lunch program?

What you are really saying is:
Are you gonna let those kids in?



When you ask:
Will there be a gifted program?

What you are really saying is:
I know they are only five, but my kid is totally smarter than yours.



When you ask:
How will you deal with advanced learners?

What you are really saying is:
No, my kid is smarter than YOURS.



When you ask:
What doors on campus are open to the public? Are the kids allowed to use the bathroom by themselves? Where are the bathrooms? Are there individual stalls? Do adults have to check in before walking on campus? (And then, once answered, you ask the very same questions of another teacher in a different room).

What you are really saying is:
I have watched way too many Lifetime movies.



When you ask:
What happens when the kids graduate to middle school? They don't just go back into a classroom with the "general public", do they?

What you are really saying is:
I am an elitist moron.


When you ask:
Will kids who need an IEP be sent back to their home school?

What you are really saying is:
Seriously, this is just for the insanely bright and gifted children like mine, right?


And finally, when you are afraid to ask:
How are you making sure to live to the original values of a public magnet school, which is to bring a wide variety of kids from various racial and socio-economical backgrounds together? And why are there no Mexican families here when the closest neighborhoods are predominantly Mexican? And why did the parents at the elite preschools get letters about tonight's meeting, but not the parents of kids at the lower SES preschools?

What you are really saying is:
Perhaps this is not the right school for my child.



** Disclosure: Moronic nature of questions may have been exaggerated as a literary device. Just a tad. But for real, these people were taking themselves way too seriously and OMG I cannot send my kid to school with the offspring of these neurotic self-absorbed parents, can I?

***And the paranoid lady asking about the bathrooms and all the ways children will be violated in them? Multiple times? Yes, that really happened.

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this.

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When Mark and I are "on our game" (which we are not right now), we like to do affirmations with the kids at the dinner table. Generally it involves us going around the table and saying a few things we like about each kid, and a few ways they have made us proud that day. We haven't done this since Kembe came home, and the other night as we were eating it occurred to me that we needed to include him in this tradition. I went around the table, saying the usual things. As we affirmed Jafta, and then India, and then each other, Kembe sat there quietly, with wide eyes and a curious look. I could tell he understood what I was saying and was watching with anticipation. Then, it was his turn. I told him in my best Krenglish how much I loved him, how funny he is, how nice he is to the baby, how handsome he is, and how happy we are that he is in our family.

Oh my word. If I could have somehow captured the look on his face at this moment, it would melt your heart. He just got this look about him that I've never seen. It was pure joy . . . just unadulterated excitement and pride and happiness. He was BEAMING. And seeing him, I just thought: this.

This is what every child longs for and deserves . . . the adoration and affection from a parent. This is why I spent the better part of a day sounding off at a small portion of a news program dissing adoption. This is why I get so frustrated with attempts to shut down children being placed in the home of a loving family, because of something like race, or location, or sexual orientation, or finances, or home size.

When you see a glimpse of a child getting it - this. This family thing. When that starts to click and you get to bear witness to it . . . I just don't think there is anything more beautiful.

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ruska village

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I just saw this special that AlJeezara did on the Ruska Village orphanage in Haiti. It's definitely worth a watch. I think it is some of the most comprehensive and honest coverage I have seen about life post-earthquake, and about how difficult things are for those who live in Port-au-Prince.

It was surreal to watch this, because we visited this orphanage the night before the earthquake. I spoke with all three of the women interviewed here. I can tell you that they were very different that night than they are in these interviews. I think anyone in Port-Au-Prince right now has to be struggling with some post-traumatic stress. If you watch all the way through (which you should), there is a poignant segment where one of the American missionaries discloses how desperate she is to go home and see her family, and yet how convicted she feels to stay and care for these children. There is also a rather funny moment when Barbara announces that one of the children has been given a visa to go to the US, and one of the nannies pretends to dramatically cry that it isn't her turn to go.

Barbara Walker is a person of legend in Haiti. She has lived there for 20 years. I've met her a few times and she is tough as nails. She wears a blue housedress every single day, and rumor has it she carries a pistol in her bra. She cares very deeply about the children of Haiti, and I think it's inspiring to see the way her orphanage is now caring for her surrounding community. At the same time, my heart continues to break for the hardships the Haitain people continue to endure.

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comic relief

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Okay, I apologize for yesterday's rant, and for the long list of citations. I guess I'm giving you fair warning. If you make me mad, I WILL come at you with academic literature. Watch your back or I will pop some research on your @$$!

I was thinking perhaps I should post something light and fluffy today. I've got nothing. I am tired and lost in a groundhog's day of laundry and swiffering. So I will point you to some things that make me smile:

Dooce is always hilarious. But her post about a fight with her husband made me laugh - and also made me feel a little less alone in my marital dynamics. I actually made my husband read it. And he never reads blogs. Not even mine.

If you are a fan of Maya Angelou, you need to check out FakeMayaAngelou on Twitter. Actually, maybe you shouldn't check it out if you adore Maya Angelou. It's a bit heretical. But dang, it's funny.

If you haven't before, you need need need to read the comments on the following products for sale at Amazon:

Three Wolf Moon T-Shirt
Bic Ballpoint Pen

The website Unhappy Hipsters has me cracking up. But in a morose, emo kind of way.

Amalah's presentation of the book 1962 book When You Marry is both hilarious and slightly terrifying. But her commentary is the best part. And speaking of Amalah and how funny she is, her Project Runway recap on Mamapop . . . pretty sweet too.

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Et tu, Anderson Cooper?

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Dear Anderson,
It's me, Kristen. Your #1 fan. I have loved you for a long time. I still do. When you decided to go back to Haiti to continue to tell their story, I was deeply moved. You are everything I appreciate in a journalist: smart, articulate, compassionate, adventurous, and quick-on-your-feet. One of the things I've always enjoyed about your show is your willingness to present multiple layers of complex issues. But last night. Oh, Andy. You made a misstep that had me considering a break-up, and that left adoptive parents, child therapists, and orphan advocates scratching their heads.

Following an update on the Idiot Idaho Ten (I made that name up, but you can use it), you began a discuss on the plight of the orphan in Haiti. Let me first express to you how tired I am of this group of missionaries being the springboard for discussion on orphans in Haiti. After the obligatory "let's let dumb American people upstage the Haitian children" update, you featured an orphanage that seemed to be doing great things in Haiti. In doing so, you personally cited UNICEF's position that orphans should not be adopted to other countries, and suggesting this orphanage was "doing it right" by keeping children in-country to grow up in their orphanage instead of being adopted. You then allowed several staff of the orphanage to make similar statements about how children in orphanages will be the future of Haiti, and that removing orphans from Haiti will strip Haiti of its "natural resources".

These are pretty ideas, to be sure. But as with any opinion that affects people on a broad scale, it's important to do some investigation. You know, like if you had a show that had a "Keeping Them Honest" segment . . . ? Oh wait. YOU DO.

I realize you are tired. I realize you don't have a background in child development. I realize that it may be convenient and easy to just read off the policies UNICEF has readily available for you, and to speak with UNICEF's ample spokespersons and PR reps who seem to be making the rounds. I realize it may be difficult, radical even, to question the policies of such a large and seemingly benevolent organization.

However. May I suggest a bit more investiation before you support a broad-stroke ideology that leaves orphans to grow up in institutions, or before you allow someone to suggest that a generation of institutionalized children will be the hope of an already struggling nation. Just a precursory examination of the literature will make it clear that even the best orphanage is no substitute for the familial developmental needs of a child.

Unfortunately for most children in Haiti, loss is an overwhelming reality right now. Many have lost homes and friends, and even been separated from their families. I applaud the efforts UNICEF is making to reunite displaced children with their families and to house children. I wholeheartedly agree that adoption is not the best option for all Haitian children, or even all orphaned children. I do think there are some amazing orphanages raising great kids. But for those children who have lost both parents in this earthquake, categorically relegating all of them to a life in an orphanage , in a country already struggling to care for an overwhelming number of orphans before this tragedy? This seems devoid of compassion.



I am cognizant of the losses involved in adoption, and specifically the cultural losses involved in international adoption. However, children who never form loving attachments with adults are at risk for much greater losses than cultural identity. Studies show institutionalized children are at high risk for incarceration, and may exhibit developmental delays, hoarding/stealing, hypersexual behavior, habitual lying, outbursts of rage, autistic traits, and cruelty to children or animals. Parents who have adopted older children from orphanages know the harsh reality of attachment issues, and are doing the difficult therapeutic parenting required to reverse these effects. You have likely angered many of them with a casual endorsement of UNICEF's anti-adoption stance, when they observe the far-reaching issues their children face even after adoption.

Anderson, for the sake of these kids, do your research. Don't allow UNICEF or other organizations that benefit from the dependency of orphans to speak for them. The risks orphans face are much greater than a sweeping policy of "keeping kids to their own kind", and there is a wealth of literature to inform us of the real issues. Here are a few places to start:


Achenbach, T. W.; Edelbrock, C.; and Howell, C. T. (1987). "Empirically-Based Assessment of the Behavioral/Emotional Problems of 2–3-Year-Old Children." Journal of Abnormal Child Psychology 15:629–650.

Ames, E. W. (1990). "Spitz Revisited: A Trip to Romanian 'Orphanages.'" Canadian Psychological Association Developmental Section Newsletter 9(2):8–11.

Ames, E. W. (1997). The Development of Romanian Orphanage Children Adopted to Canada. Ottawa: Human Resources Development Canada.

Bowlby, J. (1953). Child Care and the Growth of Love. Baltimore, MD: Penguin Books.

Broussard, M., and Decarie, T. G. (1971). "The Effects of Three Kinds of Perceptual-Social
Stimulation on the Development of Institutionalized Infants: Preliminary Report of a Longitudinal Study." Early Child Development and Care 1:111–130.

Carlson, E. A., and Sroufe, A. L. (1995). "Contributions of Attachment Theory to Developmental Psychopathology." In Developmental Psychopathology, Vol. 1: Theory and Methods, ed. D. Cicchetti and D. J. Cohen. New York: Wiley.

Chisholm, K. (1998). "A Three Year Follow-Up of Attachment and Indiscriminate Friendliness in Children Adopted from Romanian Orphanages." Child Development 69(4):1092–1106.

Chisholm, K.; Carter, M.; Ames, E. W.; and Morison, S. J. (1995). "Attachment Security and Indiscriminately Friendly Behavior in Children Adopted from Romanian Orphanages." Development and Psychopathology 7:283–294.

Crittenden, P. M. (1988a). "Relationships at Risk." In Clinical Implications of Attachment, ed. J. Belsky and T. Nezworski. Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.

Crittenden, P. M. (1992). "Quality of Attachment in the Preschool Years." Development and Psychopathology 4:209–243.

Dennis, W. (1960). "Causes of Retardation among Institutional Children: Iran." Journal of Genetic Psychology 96:47–59.

Dennis, W. (1973). Children of the Crèche. New York: Appleton-Century-Croft.

Fisher, L.; Ames, E. W.; Chisholm, K.; and Savoie, L. (1997). "Problems Reported by Parents of Romanian Orphans Adopted to British Columbia." International Journal of Behavioral Development 20(1):67–82.

Goldfarb, W. (1945a). "Psychological Privation in Infancy and Subsequent Adjustment." American Journal of Orthopsychiatry 14:247–255.

Goldfarb, W. (1947). "Variations in Adolescent Adjustment of Institutionally Reared Children."
American Journal of Orthopsychiatry 17:449–457.

Goldfarb, W. (1955). "Emotional and Intellectual Consequences of Psychologic Deprivation in
Infancy: A Re-Evaluation." In Psychopathology of Childhood, ed. P. Hoch and J. Zubin. New York: Grune and Stratton.

Groze, V., and Ileana, D. (1996). "A Follow-Up Study of Adopted Children from Romania." Child
and Adolescent Social Work Journal 13(6):541–565.

Handley-Derry, M.; Goldberg, S.; Marcovitch, S.; McGregor, D.; Gold, A.: and Washington, J. (1995). "Determinants of Behavior in Internationally Adopted Romanian Children." Paper presented at the annual meeting of the Society for Behavioral Pediatrics, Philadelphia, September 1995.

Hunt, J. M.; Mohandessi, K.; Ghodessi, M.; and Akiyama, M. (1976). "The Psychological Development of Orphanage-Reared Infants: Interventions with Outcomes (Tehran)." Genetic Psychological Monographs 94:177–226.

Kaler, S. R., and Freeman, B. J. (1994). "Analysis of Environmental Deprivation: Cognitive and Social Development of Romanian Orphans." Journal of Child Psychology and Psychiatry 35(4):769–781.

Lieberman, A. F., and Pawl, J. H. (1988). "Clinical Applications of Attachment Theory." In Clinical Implications of Attachment, ed. J. Belsky and T. Nezworski. Hills-dale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.

Longstreth, L. E. (1981). "Revisiting Skeels' Final Study: A Critique." Developmental Psychology 17:620–625.

Marcovitch, S.; Goldberg, S.; Gold, A.; Washington, J.; Wasson, C.; Krekewich, K.; and Handley-Derry, M. (1997). "Determinants of Behavioral Problems in Romanian Children Adopted in Ontario." International Journal of Behavioral Development 20(1):17–31.

Marvin, R. S., and O'Connor, T. G. (1999). "The Formation of Parent-Child Attachment Following Privation." Paper presented at the biennial meetings of the Society for Research in Child Development, Albuquerque, New Mexico, April 15–18.

Morison, S. J.; Ames, E. W.; and Chisholm, K. (1995). "The Development of Children Adopted from Romanian Orphanages." Merrill-Palmer Quarterly 41(4): 411–430.

Morison, S. J., and Ellwood, A. L. (2000). "Resiliency in the Aftermath of Deprivation: A Second Look at the Development of Romanian Orphanage Children." Merrill-Palmer Quarterly 46(4):717–737.

O'Connor, T. G.; Rutter, M.; and the English and Romanian Adoptees Study Team (2000). "Attachment Disorder Behavior Following Early Severe Deprivation: Extension and Longitudinal Follow-Up." Journal of the American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry 39(6):703–712.

Pinneau, S. (1955). "The Infantile Disorders of Hospitalism and Anaclitic Depression." Psychological Bulletin 52:429–451.

Provence, S., and Lipton, R. C. (1962). Infants in Institutions. New York: International Universities Press.

Rosenblith, J. F., and Sims-Knight, J. E. (1985). "Deprivation and Enrichment." In In the Beginning: Development in the First Two Years. Monterey, CA: Brooks/Cole.
Rutter, M. (1985). "Resilience in the Face of Adversity: Protective Factors and Resistance to Psychiatric Disturbance." British Journal of Psychiatry 147:598–611.

Rutter, M., and the English and Romanian Adoptees Study Team. (1998). "Developmental Catch-Up, and Deficit, Following Adoption after Severe Global Privation." Journal of Child Psychology and Psychiatry 39(4):465–476.

Skodak, M., and Skeels, H. M. (1945). "A Follow-Up Study of Children in Adoptive Homes." Journal of Genetic Psychology 66:21–58.

Skodak, M., and Skeels, H. M. (1949). "A Final Follow-Up Study of One Hundred Adopted Children." Journal of Genetic Psychology 75:85–125.

Sloutsky, V. M. (1997). "Institutional Care and Developmental Outcomes of 6- and 7-Year-Old Children: A Contextual Perspective." International Journal of Behavioral Development 20(1):131–151.

Spitz, R. (1945a). "Hospitalism: An Inquiry into the Genesis of Psychiatric Conditions in Early Childhood." Psychoanalytic Study of the Child 1:53–74.

Spitz, R. (1945b). "Hospitalism: A Follow-Up Report." Psychoanalytic Study of the Child 2:113–118.

Tizard, B. (1977). Adoption: A Second Chance. London: Open Books.

Tizard, B., and Hodges, J. (1978). "The Effect of Early Institutional Rearing on the Development of Eight-Year-Old Children." Journal of Child Psychology and Psychiatry 19:99–118.

Vorria, P.; Wolkind, S.; Rutter, M.; Pickles, A.; and Hobsbaum, A. (1998). "A Comparative Study of Greek Children in Long-Term Residential Group Care and in Two-Parent Families: I. Social, Emotional, and Behavioral Differences." Journal of Child Psychology and Psychiatry 39(2):225–236.

Zeanah, C. H. (1996). "Beyond Insecurity: A Reconceptualization of Attachment Disorders in Infancy." Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology 64(1):42–52.

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car talk

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I need some help. We are still in need of a car that can fit all six of us. Obviously we thought we would have a bit more time to figure this out before Kembe came home from Haiti. We've been getting by with a very generous loaner minivan, but we need to find a permanent solution. The problem is, I am completely overwhelmed with the idea of choosing a car.

I am not a car person. I don't know about cars. I don't care about cars. Our strategy thus far has always been to pay cash for older Hondas and drive them for a long, long time. The only feeling I really have about cars is a mild disdain for minivans. Have I mentioned that here? I can't remember.

Anyways, we now have some rather specific car needs, and I have no clue where to start. And despite all my protestations about minivans, I'm pretty open to anything at this point. Getting my kids in and out of the car has become the bane of my existence. I am willing to put my ego aside. Take one for the team, if you will.

If you are a car person and have some ideas for me, I would love the feedback. If you aren't a car person, what I'm about to say will probably be the most boring thing you will ever read. I'm not a car person so I'm already boring myself.

Here is what I'm hoping for in a car:

1. (And this is most important): I need a car that allows the kids to get in and out on their own, where I can access their carseat straps without crawling into the back myself. Of my four kids, only Jafta can independently strap himself in. So I don't want a car that forces me to crawl into a third row to do the straps. Nor can I do a car that requires one of the first row seats to fold forward every time the kids get in and out. We still have toddler seats (not boosters) and an infant carseat, and I don't want to take one in and out every time we enter the car. So I'm thinking we either need bucket rows in the first row, with an "aisle" to the backseat - which I guess means a minivan? Or not? Or maybe there is a car that has a bench seat for the first row, where I could put the three smaller carseats, and then has a row behind it that could partially fold down, allowing Jafta access from the back of the car? (I know the Honda Flex has this. I need a cheaper idea than that). The minivan we are driving now is great because I can seat India in the back row and still reach her straps, and there are two bucket seats with room on either side for Jafta and India to get in themselves.

2. I need trunk space. My stroller is ginormous. I also need to pack groceries next to the stroller so I don't drop raw eggs on my foot when I open the trunk.

3. I need a car that's been around for a while. We have a limited budget. (And by limited, I mean we have no budget. We need to try to sell one of our cars and then use that money, which won't be much). I need an older-model car so that I can buy it used.

4. I actually do care about my environmental impact. Not sure how that works with a six-seater. Guessing I won't be able to afford a hybrid. But is there a happy medium between the Prius and the Hummer?

5. I need something low-maintainance. We've always been partial to Hondas. I don't wanna be in the shop all the time. A retro vw can is my dream car - but I'm hearing they are not so reliable. Or affordable.

6. As I said, I am open to minivans. But, if there is another option, that would be cool.


As I write this list, I get the sinking feeling that perhaps this car does not exist. If you have ideas for me, I would love to hear them. If you have a couple kids and a car you love, what is it and what do you love about it?

Also, does anybody know Oprah?

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day in the life

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wake up at 5am - try to get Kembe to go back to sleep.

doze until 7am, discover both girls have peed through diapers.

throw crib bedding in washer. throw India's bedding near washer.

feed Karis while snuggling Kembe.

get kids dressed.

discover we have no breakfast foods.

remember valentines are due at preschool.

frantically address 24 valentines from Jafta, 18 from India.

plop Karis in an exersaucer while Mark drops off kids, take shower.

realize it was snack day for India.

find snack to have Mark take back.

get call from Mark - he forgot he had a 9am and missed his first client.

lament with Mark about what a hot mess we are right now.

blow dry hair while Karis tries to climb up my leg.

change a diaper, realize I have no baby wipes.

load Kembe and Karis into car to do a grocery/diaper run.

stop by Starbucks for the first time in months, feeling free with only two kids.

go to Target - debate taking in double stroller or chancing that a multi-kid cart will be available.

remember last week and the lack of multi-kid carts and the chaos in cause.

take stroller.

pass by 3 multi-kid carts at the entrance.

ponder how to fit all my diapers and groceries into teensy stroller basket.

get shadowed by a security guard who thinks I'm shoplifting.

become subject of stares as Karis has full-scale tired meltdown in Target.

do laps around store as baby cries for 30 minutes.

shove groceries around both kids and into every available space on stroller.

contemplate abandoning groceries and high-tailing it out of store when screaming escalates.

complete purchases while holding screaming baby and wondering why she didn't just take her nap while I shopped.

scold myself for trying to make a plan.

realize Karis will now fall asleep in car and leave me in a bind when I pick up older kids.

shove groceries into car around ginormous double stroller.

drive to preschool.

Karis falls alseep.

stroller falls over onto groceries as I drive.

arrive at preschool.

contemplate how to keep Karis asleep when stroller does not fit through doors of classrooms.

attempt to carry the carseat in my arms.

make it halfway across parking lot turn back for the stroller.

open trunk. groceries spill out.

raw eggs crack ON MY SHOE.

stash eggs in a bush in front of other preschool moms.

take off shoe.

open pack of baby wipes to clean it off.

wrangle Kembe and still-sleeping Karis into stroller.

abandon stroller (and children) outside classroom door while retrieving children.

decide to salvage eggs, because I don't want to go to another store with four kids.

find eggs, pull out shells, place the rest in a grocery bag.

head home. open trunk, snag sleeve of on-sale-but-still-spendy anthropologie shirt on trunk handle.

rip sleeve off new shirt.

unload four kids from car.

remember I haven't eaten lunch.

nor has Kembe.

start prepping lunch.

offer Kembe a peanut-butter sandwich.

deal with meltdown that ensues upon discovering I forgot to buy peanut butter.

console a grieving 3-year-old who just needed an out to let go of some very strong emotions about being homesick for his friends and nannies in Haiti.

hold Kembe for 45 minutes as he cries, thinking about groceries still in the car.

still hungry.

have panic attack about the state of the house.

need to pee.

get Kembe distracted with promises of goldfish.

bring melting groceries in from the car.

put away groceries while attempting to feed Karis.

abandon non-perishables for Mark, sit down to feed Karis.

check email. discover nasty comment on blog.

try not to let it affect me.

let it affect me.

stare at mess of house and wonder where to even start.

get pressured into playing Kembe's favorite "pretend you are asleep until I scream and wake you up" game.

kids bring ALL of their bedding into living room to play this.

another panic attack about the state of the house.

try to ignore it and play with them anyway.

put a grumpy Kembe down for his nap.

attempt to put Karis down, realize her bedding is still in dryer.

lay out a beach towel. emphatically request that India go poop on the potty instead of 2 seconds into her nap in her pullup.

she declines.

2 seconds into her nap, discover India has pooped.

change her diaper.

India and Kembe fall asleep.

Karis poops.

risk waking India to get diaper from the room.

put Karis down for her nap.

begin to get a bit giddy about potential for a simultaneous nap.

have a little quiet time with Jafta.

warn Jafta within inches of his life that he must enter his bedroom quietly and not call out during his nap, so he won't wake up his brother.

Jafta lays down, and then calls out for water, waking Kembe.

lose my cool with Jafta.

watch my only moment to finish laundry/return emails/make phone calls/clean house drift away.

try to coax Kembe into sleeping more.

accept defeat.

snuggle with a groggy and grumpy Kembe.

realize I still haven't eaten.

or peed.

hear Karis wake.

Kembe won't let me go.

Walk into nursery holding Kembe in one arm, grab Karis with another.

plop all of us on the couch.

snuggle.

think about all of the things that won't get done again today.

eye the thank-you cards, the filthy floors, the laundry on the sofa.

try to enjoy the snuggle.

breathe.

hope tomorrow is easier.

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just enough to be dangerous

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My Creole is improving. I know just enough to communicate most of what I need, in cryptic directives. I’ve figured out a pretty decent system, between searching for things on google translations, and reading out full phrases from my handbook for adoptive parents. The problem is, Kembe now thinks that I can fully speak Creole. When he first came home, I was impressed with his understanding of the language barrier, and at his attempts to communicate with me through signals and gestures. Now, though, he’s abandoned those efforts and just talks back to me in rapid-fire Creole, and then looks at me with annoyance when I don’t know what the heck he’s saying. It seems like our previous system might have frustrated him less. But, we keep trying. Jafta seems to really enjoy talking in Creole, and also enjoys making up words and then asking me what they mean in Creole. i.e. “Mommy, what does comapekapesa mean in Creole?” Also lost in translation.

I was also made aware of an interesting fact by the good folks at the church nursery. Apparently, a ration of 3:1 (three children to one adult caretaker) is what the government considers to be acceptable standard for the care of children under age 3. Most of my day I spend alone with four children, which is would be an illegal ratio in many settings. I’m not gonna lie. It feels that way. Just yesterday, I looked down at Karis and she was crawling up on all fours. I thought to myself, “Huh. When did she start doing that?” And I realized that Karis made the transition sometime in the past three weeks without me even taking notice of it. Her babyhood is very different from Jafta ‘s, who got so much undivided attention, and actually had this thing called a “baby book” devoted to recording his milestones. But . . . Karis seems to be having a blast with her big siblings, and especially with her new brother. They have forged an interesting bond, where he basically roars like a lion in her face, and she cracks up laughing. I spent the first week asking him to be trankil and janti with the baby, and then realized that she loves it and he loves it, and who am I to keep him from screaming in her face if it makes her so happy?

Our house is loud. We have a baseline of chaos. I am still not sure when I will feel like I am getting in a groove. This morning e realized we were out of groceries and had nothing to serve the kids for breakfast, that we’d forgotten to make valentines for the class party, I can't seem to find the time to return emails (or shower) and that we had skipped our turn to take snacks to preschool. Our house is a mess, our finances are a mess, and we still don’t own a car that can hold all of our children. I'm having doubts that I will ever be on time for anything again. But as I’m typing this, I just heard Kembe scream in Karis’s face, and then say, in perfect English, I love you, baby. And that just makes all this chaos worth it, doesn’t it?

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