Today we took a break from the drama going on in Russia and a break from work and we drove up to the Hudson Valley to go apple picking. It was a beautiful day, Wonderdog got to come, and Boo had a great time running through the trees, picking one "perfect" apple after another, eating the best fresh mozzarella we've ever had and freshly cooked, still-hot donuts, and drinking "butter beer" (disguised as Boylans Cream Soda so Muggles wouldn't recognize it), listening to the band and playing with the bunnies.
It was awesome. I love being on a working farm. I love the Hudson Valley, which is where I went to college. And I was pleased that this farm is working toward becoming organic. They also have chickens who are allowed to graze under the apple trees, where they eat pests and (I imagine) enjoy themselves immensely. (They weren't out under the trees today, with the hundreds of city people flooding the orchard.) So we bought eggs, too, and they're blue on the inside!
Apple recipe #1 was apple/cheddar omelets that Hopper made for dinner. Apple recipe #2 is an apple crisp that I threw together after dinner. We're going to throw it into the oven while we watch Voyager, and when the episode is over, the crisp should be ready to come out of the oven. I have some heavy cream we can pour over it, too.
Tomorrow we're making baked apples (me), apple pie (Hopper) and probably I'll make at least one batch of applesauce since we have a bushel of apples and the apple peeler/corer/slicer is very easy to use, but hard to clean, so once it's out we like to process as many apples as we can. And I can probably send some applesauce home with my parents, who are coming over in the afternoon.
Apple picking is one of the reasons I love seasons.
Showing posts with label Boo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Boo. Show all posts
Saturday, September 28, 2013
Sunday, September 22, 2013
Our Special Group
When Hopper and I decided to adopt, I started to do research, because that's how I roll. I looked at websites for adoption agencies and read about the differences between domestic and international adoption and talked to my cousin who had adopted from China and, once we settled on international adoption, read the State Department website for every country it's legal for Americans to adopt from.
And I found adoption.com.
I've heard that things have changed over there, but in those days (lo, these many years ago) there was a great community in the forums at adoption.com. I made a couple of internet friends with whom I'm still in touch online (Hi, Andy, Heather and Crick!) and then one day somebody noticed that everyone in the Russian adoption forum was from New Jersey.
Long story short, we started a support group. There are currently nine families in the group. Six of us were from that original group. One came along a couple of months later. One joined us a few years after that when her two boys came home, and one is a recent addition whose prospective daughter is one of the 300.*
Over the years, this has proved to be a priceless connection. Not only because all of these families have become dear friends, but because of the support the group provides. It is refreshing to be with a group of people who understand and value your family structure. I remember the first time I met these women in person, one of them asked me, "Why did you decide to adopt from Russia?" And I realized that she just wanted to know. She wasn't saying I shouldn't adopt, or should adopt from somewhere else, or should know this or that about Russia. She just wanted to know because she was also adopting from Russia. And I relaxed parts of my brain that I didn't know were stressed.
Since that time, we've been through babyhood and preschool and now most of our kids are in fourth or fifth grade. October marks the tenth anniversary of one of our kids coming home, and over the next year most of the children in the original group will mark their tenth adoption anniversaries. It's been fascinating watching this group of kids grow together. My favorite, now, are the pool parties, because Boo loves swimming so much and it's fun to watch all of the kids having epic water battles or teaching each other to do cartwheels off the diving board.
All of the kids are doing well. One, who was adopted at age five or six, has some serious psychological issues, but I imagine she was removed from her birth parents for a reason, and she has traumas other than an orphanage in her past. However, she has discovered a tremendous artistic talent which her parents have nurtured and her talent has gotten her into a specialized high school program where she is flourishing. Update: 9/23/13 This girl's mom points out to me that she knows about ten other kids in her daughter's grade who have the same psychological condition her daughter does, none of whom was adopted. And that with the help she's been able to get, her daughter has bonded with her family, learned English, worked hard at her talent--really hard--and is doing well in school. She also has normal friendships, age-appropriate levels of drama, and a good relationship with her brother who was also adopted from Russia at age 3 a few years ago.
And that is our "worst case scenario." Other than that, we've got a totally normal group of kids. Perhaps there's a higher than average rate of ADHD diagnosis in the group. A few kids are on medication for it and get special help in school. A few see therapists. Out of eleven kids we have six IEPs, including the girl I described above. We also have one child who is classified as gifted and who skipped a grade. But all of the children are in regular schools, mostly public schools. All of the children are in intact families. No disrupted adoptions. There have been no calls to the police or DYFS. No trips to respite care.
Update 9/23/13: Another mother in our group pointed out that we have three moms in the group who adopted/are adopting as singles. One of them got married after her first adoption and went back with her husband to adopt a second child from Russia. One has been a single mom for ten years. The third is the one caught in the ban. But my friend points out that some people find it hard to socialize in a mixed group of singles and couples. We never have. Sometimes we meet just moms, sometimes whole families. Whoever can come, comes, and we hang out.
I don't mean to suggest that adopting a child from an institution is easy, or that we haven't all had our moments. One of the great things about having a support group is having people you can say the horrible things to--the things you think at your worst moments--and know you won't be judged and your words won't be thrown back at you later, because your friends have all been there too. When one of us does have a problem or a worry about a child, it helps to be able to mine our collective brains which are chock full of information about post-adoption issues from attachment disorder to post-traumatic stress to every learning disability you can name. Whatever the problem, one of us has consulted a Social Worker or an adoption agency or a book or a website or a Teacher about it. Together, we know pretty much everything, and we can always come up with a plan of action.
But really, that's just that village Hillary Clinton wrote about, right? Because parenting, like life, is a series of problems you have to solve. And I'm glad I'm not in it alone.
-----------------------
*If you're not up on international adoption politics, Russia has banned adoption by Americans and about 300 children who already met their prospective parents are not able to complete their adoption processes. Sadly, my friend is one of the prospective adoptive parents who got stuck in this torturous limbo.
And I found adoption.com.
I've heard that things have changed over there, but in those days (lo, these many years ago) there was a great community in the forums at adoption.com. I made a couple of internet friends with whom I'm still in touch online (Hi, Andy, Heather and Crick!) and then one day somebody noticed that everyone in the Russian adoption forum was from New Jersey.
Long story short, we started a support group. There are currently nine families in the group. Six of us were from that original group. One came along a couple of months later. One joined us a few years after that when her two boys came home, and one is a recent addition whose prospective daughter is one of the 300.*
Over the years, this has proved to be a priceless connection. Not only because all of these families have become dear friends, but because of the support the group provides. It is refreshing to be with a group of people who understand and value your family structure. I remember the first time I met these women in person, one of them asked me, "Why did you decide to adopt from Russia?" And I realized that she just wanted to know. She wasn't saying I shouldn't adopt, or should adopt from somewhere else, or should know this or that about Russia. She just wanted to know because she was also adopting from Russia. And I relaxed parts of my brain that I didn't know were stressed.
Since that time, we've been through babyhood and preschool and now most of our kids are in fourth or fifth grade. October marks the tenth anniversary of one of our kids coming home, and over the next year most of the children in the original group will mark their tenth adoption anniversaries. It's been fascinating watching this group of kids grow together. My favorite, now, are the pool parties, because Boo loves swimming so much and it's fun to watch all of the kids having epic water battles or teaching each other to do cartwheels off the diving board.
All of the kids are doing well. One, who was adopted at age five or six, has some serious psychological issues, but I imagine she was removed from her birth parents for a reason, and she has traumas other than an orphanage in her past. However, she has discovered a tremendous artistic talent which her parents have nurtured and her talent has gotten her into a specialized high school program where she is flourishing. Update: 9/23/13 This girl's mom points out to me that she knows about ten other kids in her daughter's grade who have the same psychological condition her daughter does, none of whom was adopted. And that with the help she's been able to get, her daughter has bonded with her family, learned English, worked hard at her talent--really hard--and is doing well in school. She also has normal friendships, age-appropriate levels of drama, and a good relationship with her brother who was also adopted from Russia at age 3 a few years ago.
And that is our "worst case scenario." Other than that, we've got a totally normal group of kids. Perhaps there's a higher than average rate of ADHD diagnosis in the group. A few kids are on medication for it and get special help in school. A few see therapists. Out of eleven kids we have six IEPs, including the girl I described above. We also have one child who is classified as gifted and who skipped a grade. But all of the children are in regular schools, mostly public schools. All of the children are in intact families. No disrupted adoptions. There have been no calls to the police or DYFS. No trips to respite care.
Update 9/23/13: Another mother in our group pointed out that we have three moms in the group who adopted/are adopting as singles. One of them got married after her first adoption and went back with her husband to adopt a second child from Russia. One has been a single mom for ten years. The third is the one caught in the ban. But my friend points out that some people find it hard to socialize in a mixed group of singles and couples. We never have. Sometimes we meet just moms, sometimes whole families. Whoever can come, comes, and we hang out.
I don't mean to suggest that adopting a child from an institution is easy, or that we haven't all had our moments. One of the great things about having a support group is having people you can say the horrible things to--the things you think at your worst moments--and know you won't be judged and your words won't be thrown back at you later, because your friends have all been there too. When one of us does have a problem or a worry about a child, it helps to be able to mine our collective brains which are chock full of information about post-adoption issues from attachment disorder to post-traumatic stress to every learning disability you can name. Whatever the problem, one of us has consulted a Social Worker or an adoption agency or a book or a website or a Teacher about it. Together, we know pretty much everything, and we can always come up with a plan of action.
But really, that's just that village Hillary Clinton wrote about, right? Because parenting, like life, is a series of problems you have to solve. And I'm glad I'm not in it alone.
-----------------------
*If you're not up on international adoption politics, Russia has banned adoption by Americans and about 300 children who already met their prospective parents are not able to complete their adoption processes. Sadly, my friend is one of the prospective adoptive parents who got stuck in this torturous limbo.
Thursday, September 19, 2013
Oops!
I forgot to post last night! So much for resolutions.
However, I have the best excuse ever.
I was snuggling and reading books with Boo, so my computer wasn't on.
Tonight, however, I will be better. I will be writing about another rescue pet, redshirting in education, or sequestration. I haven't decided yet.
However, I have the best excuse ever.
I was snuggling and reading books with Boo, so my computer wasn't on.
Tonight, however, I will be better. I will be writing about another rescue pet, redshirting in education, or sequestration. I haven't decided yet.
Monday, September 9, 2013
September Melancholy
It started as I got my first glimpse of the school this morning. I thought it was odd, since I was at school yesterday and Friday, and the week before. But today was the first day of school, and the feeling started.
At first I thought it was the typical bittersweet feeling. Boo is getting older, and although I love who she is now, and I'm proud of her, and I know she'll have a great year, I miss my little(r) girl, my toddler, my baby.
But it persisted a little bit throughout the day as I was making invitations and prototypes for Boo's upcoming Harry Potter birthday party.
And then, when I was walking Wonderdog through the park I passed a small child hanging from a chin-up bar. He was shouting to his mom that he wanted to hang there for ten minutes, and she was explaining how long that would feel, and they were just discussing things, hanging out in the playground.
I remembered how lonely the playground used to feel at this time every year. One day the playground and the pool beside it would be packed with kids, and the next day they'd all be at school, and Boo and I would be left to play quietly by ourselves, without being bombarded by the big kids. It always made me a little bit sad.
And that's when I realized that I'm not sad because Boo is getting older, not really. I'm sad because summer is over. Today I took a vacation day so that we could spend time together on her first day of school. She had a half day, so it was easier to take the day off than to try and arrange someone else to pick her up, but also I really wanted to spend this day with her. We went out for ice cream and delivered her party invitations before she got involved in homework and projects and playing with Neighbor. It was nice. And I was the first one to hear all about her first day of school, which is important to me.
But after today, I'll be at work four days a week, and I won't hear about things until dinner time. I know, it's not like I'm moving to another city, and Boo is in fourth grade, which means she can handle staying for after-care sometimes when Hopper has to stay late at his school to do Teacher stuff, and the rest of the time she'll be with her dad. But it's a change for us. I won't be picking her up from school. I won't be around for homework time.
And summer is over. No more vacations. No more pool. No more hanging out in the evenings with no homework to worry about. No more fireflies. No more barbecues.
I know a lot of parents are happy that school has started. I guess I am too, in a way, because I know that Boo was getting bored having had no activities for the past two weeks. And Boo had a great first day of school and I'm looking forward to all she'll do this year. And I like my job and will be doing rewarding things there. But I'm sad that we're getting back to the grind, sad that we'll be spending less time together doing nothing.
At first I thought it was the typical bittersweet feeling. Boo is getting older, and although I love who she is now, and I'm proud of her, and I know she'll have a great year, I miss my little(r) girl, my toddler, my baby.
But it persisted a little bit throughout the day as I was making invitations and prototypes for Boo's upcoming Harry Potter birthday party.
And then, when I was walking Wonderdog through the park I passed a small child hanging from a chin-up bar. He was shouting to his mom that he wanted to hang there for ten minutes, and she was explaining how long that would feel, and they were just discussing things, hanging out in the playground.
I remembered how lonely the playground used to feel at this time every year. One day the playground and the pool beside it would be packed with kids, and the next day they'd all be at school, and Boo and I would be left to play quietly by ourselves, without being bombarded by the big kids. It always made me a little bit sad.
And that's when I realized that I'm not sad because Boo is getting older, not really. I'm sad because summer is over. Today I took a vacation day so that we could spend time together on her first day of school. She had a half day, so it was easier to take the day off than to try and arrange someone else to pick her up, but also I really wanted to spend this day with her. We went out for ice cream and delivered her party invitations before she got involved in homework and projects and playing with Neighbor. It was nice. And I was the first one to hear all about her first day of school, which is important to me.
But after today, I'll be at work four days a week, and I won't hear about things until dinner time. I know, it's not like I'm moving to another city, and Boo is in fourth grade, which means she can handle staying for after-care sometimes when Hopper has to stay late at his school to do Teacher stuff, and the rest of the time she'll be with her dad. But it's a change for us. I won't be picking her up from school. I won't be around for homework time.
And summer is over. No more vacations. No more pool. No more hanging out in the evenings with no homework to worry about. No more fireflies. No more barbecues.
I know a lot of parents are happy that school has started. I guess I am too, in a way, because I know that Boo was getting bored having had no activities for the past two weeks. And Boo had a great first day of school and I'm looking forward to all she'll do this year. And I like my job and will be doing rewarding things there. But I'm sad that we're getting back to the grind, sad that we'll be spending less time together doing nothing.
Sunday, June 23, 2013
Ten Reasons Dogs are Better Than Children
1. They are always happy to see you.
2. They never talk back.
3. They enjoy being trained.
4. They sleep through the night by 3 months old, and are potty trained by 6 months old.
5. You can leave them alone in the house.
6. Or put them in a crate.
7. They never complain about the food you made them.
8. You can smother them all you want without worrying they'll grow up emotionally stunted.
9. They clean up food you spill.
10. They don't go to camp.
I miss Boo. Hopefully she's having a great time. Hopper and I are watching obscene amounts of Doctor Who already. It doesn't bode well for our productivity this week.
2. They never talk back.
3. They enjoy being trained.
4. They sleep through the night by 3 months old, and are potty trained by 6 months old.
5. You can leave them alone in the house.
6. Or put them in a crate.
7. They never complain about the food you made them.
8. You can smother them all you want without worrying they'll grow up emotionally stunted.
9. They clean up food you spill.
10. They don't go to camp.
I miss Boo. Hopefully she's having a great time. Hopper and I are watching obscene amounts of Doctor Who already. It doesn't bode well for our productivity this week.
Friday, June 21, 2013
Adoption Day
Monday was our Adoption Day.
For those of you who aren't part of the Adoption community, Adoption Day is our anniversary. I've heard other families refer to it as Gotcha Day, Airplane Day, or Family Day, but it amounts to the same thing: a celebration of the day we became a family.
We have traditions in our family.
We eat vanilla fudge twirl ice cream. It symbolizes our family: we're stuck together forever, and you can't get us apart, and while you can still see the differences among us, we're better because we're together, just like the chocolate and vanilla ice cream.
While we eat, I tell this story:
Once upon a time, Daddy and I decided that we needed more love in our lives, so we went out and adopted a dog.
[Boo: What?!]
Yes, we adopted Darwin (of Blessed memory,) but that didn't do it, so we decided we should have a baby. We thought about all the different ways to have a family. Some people grow their babies in the mommy's tummy. Some find their babies in America, but we were looking for one special baby, and we didn't think we'd find her either of those ways.
We were looking for a special baby who would grow up to love music and animals and swimming. She'd be smart and funny and stubborn as a mule, and sometimes waiting for things would be hard for her, but we'd love her forever and her name would be Boo.
So we started our search. We asked advice from our cousins who had adopted before us. We checked out every adoption agency we could find. And finally we met a woman named Mrs. Mason. Mrs. Mason had met a baby in St. Petersburg, Russia who she thought might be the right Boo for us, so we got on a plane to go check.
We met the baby and she was just right, so we asked her if she wanted to come home with us and be our Boo and I would be her Mama and Hopper would be her Dad. And she said, "Booma!" Because she wanted to be Boo and she wanted me to be her Ma.
So we signed the paper saying we wanted to adopt her and we said goodbye and went home, and a few weeks later we came back and asked the Judge if we could be Boo's forever family.
And the Judge said yes, and that was on this day, nine years ago.
And now you're stuck with us.
Now, finish your ice cream and go to bed.
For those of you who aren't part of the Adoption community, Adoption Day is our anniversary. I've heard other families refer to it as Gotcha Day, Airplane Day, or Family Day, but it amounts to the same thing: a celebration of the day we became a family.
We have traditions in our family.
We eat vanilla fudge twirl ice cream. It symbolizes our family: we're stuck together forever, and you can't get us apart, and while you can still see the differences among us, we're better because we're together, just like the chocolate and vanilla ice cream.
While we eat, I tell this story:
Once upon a time, Daddy and I decided that we needed more love in our lives, so we went out and adopted a dog.
[Boo: What?!]
Yes, we adopted Darwin (of Blessed memory,) but that didn't do it, so we decided we should have a baby. We thought about all the different ways to have a family. Some people grow their babies in the mommy's tummy. Some find their babies in America, but we were looking for one special baby, and we didn't think we'd find her either of those ways.
We were looking for a special baby who would grow up to love music and animals and swimming. She'd be smart and funny and stubborn as a mule, and sometimes waiting for things would be hard for her, but we'd love her forever and her name would be Boo.
So we started our search. We asked advice from our cousins who had adopted before us. We checked out every adoption agency we could find. And finally we met a woman named Mrs. Mason. Mrs. Mason had met a baby in St. Petersburg, Russia who she thought might be the right Boo for us, so we got on a plane to go check.
We met the baby and she was just right, so we asked her if she wanted to come home with us and be our Boo and I would be her Mama and Hopper would be her Dad. And she said, "Booma!" Because she wanted to be Boo and she wanted me to be her Ma.
So we signed the paper saying we wanted to adopt her and we said goodbye and went home, and a few weeks later we came back and asked the Judge if we could be Boo's forever family.
And the Judge said yes, and that was on this day, nine years ago.
And now you're stuck with us.
Now, finish your ice cream and go to bed.
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
Lifelong Dreams
I finally saw Annie on Broadway.
It's moments like this where I see the fundamental differences between myself and Boo. Boo really enjoyed the show. When she goes to the theater, she's most interested in the technical aspects, and she gets engaged watching what goes on so that she can figure out how everything was done.
I really enjoyed the show, too. And I am still hoping that someday I'll be discovered and cast as one of the orphans. In the meantime, I've been dancing around my house singing "Little Girls" in full Broadway belt. I suppose I have a slightly greater chance of being discovered in my living room and cast as Miss Hannigan.
We grow up thinking that everything we do and feel is normal. For me, that meant horses and theater and books. My brain runs a constant narrative in my head, describing in the third person whatever I'm doing. (These days it tends to take the form of Facebook posts.) Frequently this comes with background music and often appropriate song and dance numbers will be inserted, to be performed or kept secret, depending on my surroundings.
I suppose I knew long ago that not everyone has this way of experiencing life. But it's interesting to raise a child who is so similar to me in many ways (bright, full of ideas, loves books, stubborn as hell) but whose driving passions are fundamentally different. It's not that I have a problem with it--Boo loves some really interesting things--it's just fascinating to know someone so intimately and to see her react to some things in a way that's completely different to the way I reacted as a child. Or the way I react now.
For me, seeing any live theater, really, but Broadway especially, and musicals double-especially, feeds my soul in a way that nothing else does. I relate to every actor on the stage. I suck whatever energy I can from every aspect of the performance. I watch and I learn and I absorbed and when I get home I want to reenact the entire show from start to finish. Just let me near a theater in any capacity and I light up like a Christmas tree. Spending time with horses, or any animals, really, quiets my soul. I'm able to tune in to their rhythms, and when I'm with a calm animal, I get calmer, too. When I went to riding camp, I used to love just spending time with the herd, watching them and learning about their interactions, learning to understand their body language. I could (and still can) spend hours with animals, just being together and being company for each other. I'm not saying that I have any magical powers or anything, but I've always been told that I communicate well with animals. It's just a way of attending to the signals they're sending that seems to be a talent I have.
When I see Boo engage her passions, I know that she must be experiencing something similar, but of course all of this is so internal that it can't really be shared. But I can see her engage with certain activities in a way that seems...different. More, somehow.
I'm glad I get to share my passions with Boo, even if she doesn't experience them the same way I do. It's interesting to note her surprise that I don't feel passionately about them. After all, she's a kid, and everything she does is normal.
It's moments like this where I see the fundamental differences between myself and Boo. Boo really enjoyed the show. When she goes to the theater, she's most interested in the technical aspects, and she gets engaged watching what goes on so that she can figure out how everything was done.
I really enjoyed the show, too. And I am still hoping that someday I'll be discovered and cast as one of the orphans. In the meantime, I've been dancing around my house singing "Little Girls" in full Broadway belt. I suppose I have a slightly greater chance of being discovered in my living room and cast as Miss Hannigan.
We grow up thinking that everything we do and feel is normal. For me, that meant horses and theater and books. My brain runs a constant narrative in my head, describing in the third person whatever I'm doing. (These days it tends to take the form of Facebook posts.) Frequently this comes with background music and often appropriate song and dance numbers will be inserted, to be performed or kept secret, depending on my surroundings.
I suppose I knew long ago that not everyone has this way of experiencing life. But it's interesting to raise a child who is so similar to me in many ways (bright, full of ideas, loves books, stubborn as hell) but whose driving passions are fundamentally different. It's not that I have a problem with it--Boo loves some really interesting things--it's just fascinating to know someone so intimately and to see her react to some things in a way that's completely different to the way I reacted as a child. Or the way I react now.
For me, seeing any live theater, really, but Broadway especially, and musicals double-especially, feeds my soul in a way that nothing else does. I relate to every actor on the stage. I suck whatever energy I can from every aspect of the performance. I watch and I learn and I absorbed and when I get home I want to reenact the entire show from start to finish. Just let me near a theater in any capacity and I light up like a Christmas tree. Spending time with horses, or any animals, really, quiets my soul. I'm able to tune in to their rhythms, and when I'm with a calm animal, I get calmer, too. When I went to riding camp, I used to love just spending time with the herd, watching them and learning about their interactions, learning to understand their body language. I could (and still can) spend hours with animals, just being together and being company for each other. I'm not saying that I have any magical powers or anything, but I've always been told that I communicate well with animals. It's just a way of attending to the signals they're sending that seems to be a talent I have.
When I see Boo engage her passions, I know that she must be experiencing something similar, but of course all of this is so internal that it can't really be shared. But I can see her engage with certain activities in a way that seems...different. More, somehow.
I'm glad I get to share my passions with Boo, even if she doesn't experience them the same way I do. It's interesting to note her surprise that I don't feel passionately about them. After all, she's a kid, and everything she does is normal.
Thursday, June 13, 2013
Don't worry...it has a happy ending
I met a kid today who had never tasted fudge. She didn't know what it was.
See, every year, Boo and I make food for her teachers--blondies at Christmas time, and fudge for the end of school. Today we were making fudge, and she wanted to invite a friend over to help. Her friend called when she was ready to come over.
"Boo said I could come over to help you make sponge cake. I'm on my way."
"It's fudge," I replied. "See you soon."
When she arrived she asked me, "So, we're making fudge cake?"
"No, fudge."
"Fudge brownies?"
"No, just fudge."
She honestly had no idea what I was talking about. She had never even seen fudge, she said. Not at the mall, not at the seashore. Never seen it, never tasted it.
It made me sad.
So everyone: go make fudge with someone you love. Then eat all the fudge. There's a recipe for you here, and it couldn't be easier. I even found organic chocolate and organic condensed milk at Whole Foods today. And here's a vegan recipe, for those of you who are more vegan than I am. I haven't tried the vegan recipe so I can't vouch for it, but it looks pretty good, as vegan desserts go.
By the way, I have fixed Boo's friend. She now not only knows what fudge is and how utterly delicious it can be, she knows how to make it.
Another wayward child saved by Xanny.
See, every year, Boo and I make food for her teachers--blondies at Christmas time, and fudge for the end of school. Today we were making fudge, and she wanted to invite a friend over to help. Her friend called when she was ready to come over.
"Boo said I could come over to help you make sponge cake. I'm on my way."
"It's fudge," I replied. "See you soon."
When she arrived she asked me, "So, we're making fudge cake?"
"No, fudge."
"Fudge brownies?"
"No, just fudge."
She honestly had no idea what I was talking about. She had never even seen fudge, she said. Not at the mall, not at the seashore. Never seen it, never tasted it.
It made me sad.
So everyone: go make fudge with someone you love. Then eat all the fudge. There's a recipe for you here, and it couldn't be easier. I even found organic chocolate and organic condensed milk at Whole Foods today. And here's a vegan recipe, for those of you who are more vegan than I am. I haven't tried the vegan recipe so I can't vouch for it, but it looks pretty good, as vegan desserts go.
By the way, I have fixed Boo's friend. She now not only knows what fudge is and how utterly delicious it can be, she knows how to make it.
Another wayward child saved by Xanny.
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
One singular sensation
I recently wrote about why people should have fewer kids, from rather a negative perspective. But Lauren Sandler is inspiring me to write the flip side.
While it is true that I always thought I'd have two kids, it's not actually true that I said that. What I said was that it was our plan to have two kids, but you never know. When Hopper and I got to choose the sex of the baby we would adopt (one of the many advantages of adoption) I thought long and hard. I really wanted a daughter, so adopting a son first would practically ensure that we adopted again.
We adopted a daughter.
And there are many advantages to having a single child. Our house is (fairly) peaceful. Boo's whole life, people have been amazed at how much time Hopper and I spend together. We're big believers in scheduling, particularly for a baby, and Boo went to sleep very early when she was young, so we ate dinner together and spent our evenings together. Because there is one child, one of us can help Boo settle into bed while the other does the dishes, and then we can relax for the rest of the evening.
Just tonight I heard a mother complain that her two kids have swim practice at different times because they are different ages. We don't have problems like that. When Boo is out, all our children are out. There's no juggling of playdates or practice schedules.
It's easier to get a babysitter with one child.
We have two small cars, and that's no problem. Even when we take Wonderdog on vacation with us, we can all fit with our luggage. Hopper's car is a hatchback, and while Boo doesn't love riding in it because she has to climb behind the seat, when she has to, it works. (When she was in a carseat, she never went in that car, which we were able to arrange by leaving the four-door car wherever she was--another thing we wouldn't have been able to arrange with two kids.)
And then there's the resource issue. We've chosen to do two very expensive things--have me stay home with Boo, and send Boo to private school. Since Boo has been in full-day school I've been working part-time. Because of those two commitments, we don't have a lot of money for extras, but there's no way we'd be able to manage private school with more kids, even if I worked full-time. And we're able to afford the extras we see as most important, like swim lessons. When it comes time for college, the idea of paying for four years is much less daunting than paying for 8. And I was able to stay home when Boo was little, which was important and rewarding for me, and now I'm able to go back to work and enjoy a different kind of challenge without feeling like anyone is getting short shrift.
Having a single child is a great option for people like us who have limited resources and energy and who also are trying to be environmentally responsible. We can have a smaller house and car and save the planet from the impact of another human being, all at the same time.
While it is true that I always thought I'd have two kids, it's not actually true that I said that. What I said was that it was our plan to have two kids, but you never know. When Hopper and I got to choose the sex of the baby we would adopt (one of the many advantages of adoption) I thought long and hard. I really wanted a daughter, so adopting a son first would practically ensure that we adopted again.
We adopted a daughter.
And there are many advantages to having a single child. Our house is (fairly) peaceful. Boo's whole life, people have been amazed at how much time Hopper and I spend together. We're big believers in scheduling, particularly for a baby, and Boo went to sleep very early when she was young, so we ate dinner together and spent our evenings together. Because there is one child, one of us can help Boo settle into bed while the other does the dishes, and then we can relax for the rest of the evening.
Just tonight I heard a mother complain that her two kids have swim practice at different times because they are different ages. We don't have problems like that. When Boo is out, all our children are out. There's no juggling of playdates or practice schedules.
It's easier to get a babysitter with one child.
We have two small cars, and that's no problem. Even when we take Wonderdog on vacation with us, we can all fit with our luggage. Hopper's car is a hatchback, and while Boo doesn't love riding in it because she has to climb behind the seat, when she has to, it works. (When she was in a carseat, she never went in that car, which we were able to arrange by leaving the four-door car wherever she was--another thing we wouldn't have been able to arrange with two kids.)
And then there's the resource issue. We've chosen to do two very expensive things--have me stay home with Boo, and send Boo to private school. Since Boo has been in full-day school I've been working part-time. Because of those two commitments, we don't have a lot of money for extras, but there's no way we'd be able to manage private school with more kids, even if I worked full-time. And we're able to afford the extras we see as most important, like swim lessons. When it comes time for college, the idea of paying for four years is much less daunting than paying for 8. And I was able to stay home when Boo was little, which was important and rewarding for me, and now I'm able to go back to work and enjoy a different kind of challenge without feeling like anyone is getting short shrift.
Having a single child is a great option for people like us who have limited resources and energy and who also are trying to be environmentally responsible. We can have a smaller house and car and save the planet from the impact of another human being, all at the same time.
Friday, June 7, 2013
Montessori
It seems odd that the wife of a public school teacher who is also the daughter of a public school teacher chose to send her child to private school. And perhaps even odder that Hopper also made that choice.
We believe in public education. We believe that it should be there for everyone. We believe that it should be fully funded, and that teachers should be paid more than they are so that we can get and keep the best and the brightest in the profession. We also believe that schools should be fully funded so that they have sufficient support staff--Social Workers, Psychologist, Special Ed Teachers, and so on--so that every kid in this country has a fighting chance at an education.
As parents, though, our one job was to find the right school for Boo. When she was four, we enrolled her in a Montessori school two towns away. It's the perfect match for her. We kept her there because they have all-day kindergarten (which our local public school does not) and then we had to make the big decision for first grade.
It was tough. Our local school was good. The Principal was organized and thoughtful. She knew the children when she took me on a tour. She knew the philosophy of each teacher, and was willing to experiment with different set-ups to see what worked best for different kids. There was a looping class (that stayed with the same teacher for two years) in first and second grades. The beautiful library had a full-time Librarian. The cafeteria had hot food. There was instrumental music starting in fourth grade and either French or Spanish starting in Kindergarten. The first grade classes had between 15-17 students per class. It was a really good public school.
But I love Montessori. Boo's school has the most amazing feeling when you walk in. It's quiet and calm, and every child knows exactly where she is supposed to be and what she is supposed to be doing. The children are taught to take responsibility for their own work. They have jobs inside the school, helping out with younger children, delivering lunches, or collecting compost to take out to the bin. They are in multi-age classrooms, which I think is one of the most brilliant ideas that has ever existed in education. Why are so many people opposed to multi-age classrooms? Boo has learned so much about helping younger children and getting along with older ones. She has had the opportunity to stretch by working with older kids on things that come easily to her, and to practice ideas that are harder for her by teaching them to younger children. When she's one of the older kids in the room, she gets to practice her leadership skills. And when she's one of the youngest, she struggles to learn the social rules of the game and how do deal with kids who are more sophisticated than she is.
So we decided to send her to the private school.
And then Chris Christie got elected. Now, the public school has no Librarian. The principal left. Teachers were let go and the first grade had 25 kids per class the year Boo would have started. The looping class was cancelled. French is gone and Spanish starts in fourth grade. And don't get me started on testing.
For that reason, and many others that have come up over the years but which I'm keeping confidential to respect Boo's privacy, we're so glad we chose the private school. It's the right thing for Boo. And we're her parents, so it's our job to do what's best for Boo.
We believe in public education. We believe that it should be there for everyone. We believe that it should be fully funded, and that teachers should be paid more than they are so that we can get and keep the best and the brightest in the profession. We also believe that schools should be fully funded so that they have sufficient support staff--Social Workers, Psychologist, Special Ed Teachers, and so on--so that every kid in this country has a fighting chance at an education.
As parents, though, our one job was to find the right school for Boo. When she was four, we enrolled her in a Montessori school two towns away. It's the perfect match for her. We kept her there because they have all-day kindergarten (which our local public school does not) and then we had to make the big decision for first grade.
It was tough. Our local school was good. The Principal was organized and thoughtful. She knew the children when she took me on a tour. She knew the philosophy of each teacher, and was willing to experiment with different set-ups to see what worked best for different kids. There was a looping class (that stayed with the same teacher for two years) in first and second grades. The beautiful library had a full-time Librarian. The cafeteria had hot food. There was instrumental music starting in fourth grade and either French or Spanish starting in Kindergarten. The first grade classes had between 15-17 students per class. It was a really good public school.
But I love Montessori. Boo's school has the most amazing feeling when you walk in. It's quiet and calm, and every child knows exactly where she is supposed to be and what she is supposed to be doing. The children are taught to take responsibility for their own work. They have jobs inside the school, helping out with younger children, delivering lunches, or collecting compost to take out to the bin. They are in multi-age classrooms, which I think is one of the most brilliant ideas that has ever existed in education. Why are so many people opposed to multi-age classrooms? Boo has learned so much about helping younger children and getting along with older ones. She has had the opportunity to stretch by working with older kids on things that come easily to her, and to practice ideas that are harder for her by teaching them to younger children. When she's one of the older kids in the room, she gets to practice her leadership skills. And when she's one of the youngest, she struggles to learn the social rules of the game and how do deal with kids who are more sophisticated than she is.
So we decided to send her to the private school.
And then Chris Christie got elected. Now, the public school has no Librarian. The principal left. Teachers were let go and the first grade had 25 kids per class the year Boo would have started. The looping class was cancelled. French is gone and Spanish starts in fourth grade. And don't get me started on testing.
For that reason, and many others that have come up over the years but which I'm keeping confidential to respect Boo's privacy, we're so glad we chose the private school. It's the right thing for Boo. And we're her parents, so it's our job to do what's best for Boo.
Monday, April 29, 2013
Book Fair
I just got back from volunteering at the Book Fair at Boo's school. I love working at the Book Fair. First, you get to hear the parents of young children wandering through with their kids, each family speaking in their own language.
Do you think George Monkey might be in here?
I want that train book!
Let's look for one we don't have at home.
Then you get to hang out with the other volunteers, who may not have a lot of experience with volunteer work. They want to organize and divide the work sensibly, which is fine, but I find it amusing when they don't want to step on my turf. "Oh, you're putting stickers on those books? You do that shelf, and I'll do this shelf, then."
Really ladies, the job is to get it done. There will be more to do (and more after that) so go ahead and jump into my shelf. I don't mind at all.
After that, the kids start coming in. At Boo's school, students aren't allowed to bring money when the classes visit the Book Fair. Each child gets a clipboard with a form on it so they can make a wish list. The lists are then sent home to parents. I love watching the younger kids make recommendations to one another. This morning I was working at a table full of LEGO and Star Wars books. Some of the boys were reading jokes to one another out of the joke books.
When the Middle School students arrived, it was a whole different thing. They handled the books with care, always putting them back where they belonged, and of course they used more discrimination in their shopping. And yet, their unfettered joy when finding a favorite author, a book they enjoyed when they were younger, or a funny poster was a pleasure to see and a reminder that they are still children and not yet fully teenagers.
I already bought a pile of nerdy books that I want to have around for Boo's reference as she gets into more complicated writing and learning. This afternoon, I get to take her shopping for keychains and erasers, and maybe she'll even pick out a book or two.
One never knows.
Best week of the year!
Do you think George Monkey might be in here?
I want that train book!
Let's look for one we don't have at home.
Then you get to hang out with the other volunteers, who may not have a lot of experience with volunteer work. They want to organize and divide the work sensibly, which is fine, but I find it amusing when they don't want to step on my turf. "Oh, you're putting stickers on those books? You do that shelf, and I'll do this shelf, then."
Really ladies, the job is to get it done. There will be more to do (and more after that) so go ahead and jump into my shelf. I don't mind at all.
After that, the kids start coming in. At Boo's school, students aren't allowed to bring money when the classes visit the Book Fair. Each child gets a clipboard with a form on it so they can make a wish list. The lists are then sent home to parents. I love watching the younger kids make recommendations to one another. This morning I was working at a table full of LEGO and Star Wars books. Some of the boys were reading jokes to one another out of the joke books.
When the Middle School students arrived, it was a whole different thing. They handled the books with care, always putting them back where they belonged, and of course they used more discrimination in their shopping. And yet, their unfettered joy when finding a favorite author, a book they enjoyed when they were younger, or a funny poster was a pleasure to see and a reminder that they are still children and not yet fully teenagers.
I already bought a pile of nerdy books that I want to have around for Boo's reference as she gets into more complicated writing and learning. This afternoon, I get to take her shopping for keychains and erasers, and maybe she'll even pick out a book or two.
One never knows.
Best week of the year!
Sunday, April 21, 2013
Useful Assessment
On Thursday, we went to see Boo's Third Grade Presentation. Each third year student at her school has to research and write a report on an assigned topic (this year they were all about plants) and then present the report to an audience of parents, school staff, and first through eighth graders.
During the Presentation, the second graders each stood up with a first grader and read a "Who Am I?" about a specific plant. Then the first grader would hold up a picture of the plant and say its name.
From first through third grades, the children learn about public speaking in a step-by-step, age-appropriate manner. They learn how to be a good audience. There was no teasing or jeering from the older students at the presentation. In fact, there wasn't even talking or obvious distraction. They were a respectful audience, probably because they had all been there and empathized with the experience of the first through third graders and the nerves one has getting up before an audience for the first time.
They also, of course, learn about the research topic each year. Boo has had the Solar System, The History of Communication, and Classification of Plants. She learned a lot from each presentation.
This is how you tell whether children have learned something. Incidentally, it's the same way we find out whether adults have learned anything. I work at a university. I watch adults give reports on their research all the time. The grad students I work with are jealous that Boo is learning this skill so early--some of them didn't learn it until graduate school.
In participating in these projects over three years, Boo has learned research skills, she has worked with others and individually. She has learned about non-fiction writing. She has learned public speaking skills and how to be a good audience member. She overcame her nerves and felt successful. And she worked hard and then had that work acknowledged by her learning community.
I suppose that some people might say there is no way to quantify what the children have learned from this process, or whether or not their teachers are effective. Boo has never taken a test in her life. She has never received a grade or a report card. And yet I feel confident in saying that she has learned a great deal at her school and her teachers are very effective. How do I know? Regular conferences with the teachers that take about 45 minutes twice a year. Constant additional communication via e-mail, phone, and in person. Displays of student work around the school. Presentations I'm invited to like this one. Watching Boo grow and develop and engage with the world in a different way than she did before.
That's how you evaluate a school. It's also an assessment of student learning, but one that teaches useful skills at the same time. Nothing about that Presentation was a waste of time.
So why isn't any of this happening in public school?
Oh, and all the work for the presentation happened in school. None of it was homework.
During the Presentation, the second graders each stood up with a first grader and read a "Who Am I?" about a specific plant. Then the first grader would hold up a picture of the plant and say its name.
From first through third grades, the children learn about public speaking in a step-by-step, age-appropriate manner. They learn how to be a good audience. There was no teasing or jeering from the older students at the presentation. In fact, there wasn't even talking or obvious distraction. They were a respectful audience, probably because they had all been there and empathized with the experience of the first through third graders and the nerves one has getting up before an audience for the first time.
They also, of course, learn about the research topic each year. Boo has had the Solar System, The History of Communication, and Classification of Plants. She learned a lot from each presentation.
This is how you tell whether children have learned something. Incidentally, it's the same way we find out whether adults have learned anything. I work at a university. I watch adults give reports on their research all the time. The grad students I work with are jealous that Boo is learning this skill so early--some of them didn't learn it until graduate school.
In participating in these projects over three years, Boo has learned research skills, she has worked with others and individually. She has learned about non-fiction writing. She has learned public speaking skills and how to be a good audience member. She overcame her nerves and felt successful. And she worked hard and then had that work acknowledged by her learning community.
I suppose that some people might say there is no way to quantify what the children have learned from this process, or whether or not their teachers are effective. Boo has never taken a test in her life. She has never received a grade or a report card. And yet I feel confident in saying that she has learned a great deal at her school and her teachers are very effective. How do I know? Regular conferences with the teachers that take about 45 minutes twice a year. Constant additional communication via e-mail, phone, and in person. Displays of student work around the school. Presentations I'm invited to like this one. Watching Boo grow and develop and engage with the world in a different way than she did before.
That's how you evaluate a school. It's also an assessment of student learning, but one that teaches useful skills at the same time. Nothing about that Presentation was a waste of time.
So why isn't any of this happening in public school?
Oh, and all the work for the presentation happened in school. None of it was homework.
Saturday, April 13, 2013
A long day of hoeing
Chalk up another active day with Boo and Wonderdog for me! We prepared the garden today (mostly) and we're trying living mulch this year. Basically, we're planting a carpet of lettuce, arugula, mesclun and basil all over the garden.
Preparing the garden is always a lot of work, but it was fun today. Boo was building fairy houses, Hopper was destroying the roots of weeds, and I was planting the living mulch. Meanwhile, Wonderdog was enjoying just being outside with the family. He didn't even get a walk today and yet he's sacked out on the couch, totally exhausted from all the fun he had.
I'm really excited to see what grows from all the seeds I planted today, if anything. It's a risk--the planting date around here is May 15th--but it's a small risk. We spent about $9 on seeds today.
Tomorrow when I finish the job I'll take some "before" pictures so that you can enjoy my garden along with us!
Preparing the garden is always a lot of work, but it was fun today. Boo was building fairy houses, Hopper was destroying the roots of weeds, and I was planting the living mulch. Meanwhile, Wonderdog was enjoying just being outside with the family. He didn't even get a walk today and yet he's sacked out on the couch, totally exhausted from all the fun he had.
I'm really excited to see what grows from all the seeds I planted today, if anything. It's a risk--the planting date around here is May 15th--but it's a small risk. We spent about $9 on seeds today.
Tomorrow when I finish the job I'll take some "before" pictures so that you can enjoy my garden along with us!
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Screens are bad, except when they're not
Recently I was asked how I feel about screens in classrooms.
I can't answer that.
You may have noticed that I tend to have opinions about things, and I'm generally not shy about sharing them, especially when my opinions are well-researched and science-based. If you ask me about children zero to three and screens, I'll tell you my opinion:
TURN IT OFF.
I don't care if it's an educational game on the iPad, or Sesame Street, or Angry Birds. It's not good for your child's brain. I feel so strongly about this that I made Boo turn off the iPad when my 1-year-old niece was attracted to the screen.
There are exceptions, of course. Boo watched a few hours of TV in her 0-3 years when we were on an airplane, when she was sick and screaming while I waited for the Tylenol to kick in, and (of course) the Olympics. And I was able to take this principled stand because my husband came home at 3:45 every day and took over baby care. And I have only one child. So if it's 4:30 and you're going to kill your three kids if you don't turn on the TV, then by all means--turn on the TV. It's easy for me to say I didn't have to--I didn't have to.
As Boo has gotten older, we watch more TV together. She loves movies, so we watch a lot of those. We also like watching some educational stuff together--nature shows, shows about Ancient Egypt, and science shows. Sometimes when I can see that Boo is too tired to handle herself well, we even watch these things on school nights. And she loves Tabletop.
And this is why I can't answer the question about screens in classrooms. Because every situation is different, and while it's clear that very young children learn by doing things and don't learn by watching things (screen-type things. They do learn by watching actual things, like a person building with blocks) this becomes less true as kids get older. However, it is pretty much always true that people learn better by doing than by watching and so there should always be a healthy dose of doing in the classroom.
On the other hand, some things have to be demonstrated ahead of time, and video or computer-based animated text can be good at that. Some things you can't bring into the classroom, like Tibet, and photos or video are great for showing those things. Some things need to be documented, and SmartBoards allow the teacher to keep a record of what was written on the board, which is really useful sometimes. And some things are just too dangerous, too expensive, or too restricted for kids to do themselves. (Just try getting a permit to take a field trip to a construction site.) Video is great for those things.
SmartBoards are also a great way to teach kids how to use computers, which is something we want kids to learn before they graduate high school.
Can you teach these things without SmartBoards? Of course. Can a SmartBoard be a total waste of money? Absolutely. But in the hands of a masterful teacher who knows how to use a SmartBoard well and integrates that tool into a lesson, it's a great thing (for older kids.)
I would NOT want to see a SmartBoard below first grade. Younger than that, kids should be doing things: building, practicing reading and writing skills, counting, making things, and playing with other children to develop social skills. I would want to see it used sparingly in the younger grades for the same reason. Up to about age 9 kids have not fully developed abstract thinking and still need concrete examples (doing things) in order to learn. And they need lots of time to play.
But after about age 9, most children have developed the ability to think abstractly, and they can then learn from screens quite well, although as I said, learning should always involve a healthy dose of doing stuff.
So how do I feel about screens in classrooms? If they're used well, they're great. If they're not, then they are a waste of money. What you need in a classroom is a great teacher, and then you should buy that teacher the tools she needs to teach the way she teaches best. It's really not about the screens.
But at home, less is more. I should say that I love TV. I considered getting a Master's in it. Seriously. So it would have been really easy for me to turn on the TV when Boo was little and watch all the kid shows. I would have enjoyed it. But whenever I was tempted, I thought, "What will we do if I don't turn on the TV?" Again, if the answer is, "I'll beat her to death," then please--turn on the TV. But if the answer is frisbee (as it was for me on Monday, when I played this game with myself for the eleventh-billionth time) or reading a book, or having a chat, then don't turn it on. Do the other thing instead.
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
Free Cone Day
You know what makes me mad? Free Cone Day is always on a Tuesday. It's like some kind of conspiracy against Religious School Teachers.
Probably not.
But since I started working at Columbia during the day, I can never go, because I don't have time between working in New York and teaching in New Jersey, and I don't have the heart to ask Hopper to stay home with Boo after she's in bed so I can get free ice cream without him.
Although today that would have been slightly more legit since he's on break this week and totally had an opportunity to get free ice cream any time between store opening and whenever he started making dinner. And he forgot to go.
So no free ice cream for me except for the ancient ice cream bar I found in the Temple freezer that was left over from a party two months ago and clearly melted and refroze at least once.
I enjoyed it.
Here's my best Free Cone Day story.
It was about 1999 and some friends from work and I decided to head down to the Times Square Ben & Jerry's to pick up our free cones. The line was long, as you would expect on Free Cone Day in Midtown at lunch time, but it was really well organized--workers were handing out flavor lists all along the line so everyone could decide what they wanted before getting into the store. The line moved quickly, but it was long enough that you didn't really want to stand on it twice.
When I got into the store, I saw my cousin, whom I hadn't seen in years. I had heard he was working there and that he was living near my brother in Brooklyn, but it was still really cool to see him. His family and mine hadn't been close in a long time, but when I was a kid he used to come by sometimes and he was always fun to be around. And I knew that he always made a point of being in touch with my Nana, and that meant a lot to me.
He saw me and I introduced myself and then he recognized me. He was crazy busy managing the store, but he grabbed me and asked me what I wanted and while he scooped my cone he asked me how life was going. I gave him the quick update, and then he told me that he and his wife were waiting for a baby girl from China. Seriously awesome news, especially since I was planning on moving in with my brother soon, which meant we'd be neighbors and I'd have a baby to play with!
It was a conversation that would change my life, and I didn't even know it. They did adopt the baby from China, and she's an awesome teenager now who I'm proud to be related to. But a few years later I got married, and when Hopper and I decided to adopt, we went to my cousin for advice. Because of his advice to attend an adoption conference, we discovered our agency.
I can't draw a straight line from an ice cream cone to Boo, but there's a distinctive knotty string that gets from point A to point B.
I owe it all to Ben and Jerry. Thanks, guys!
PS: Free Cone Day is my favorite Humanist holiday. What could possibly bring people together in a spirit of friendship better than free ice cream?
Probably not.
But since I started working at Columbia during the day, I can never go, because I don't have time between working in New York and teaching in New Jersey, and I don't have the heart to ask Hopper to stay home with Boo after she's in bed so I can get free ice cream without him.
Although today that would have been slightly more legit since he's on break this week and totally had an opportunity to get free ice cream any time between store opening and whenever he started making dinner. And he forgot to go.
So no free ice cream for me except for the ancient ice cream bar I found in the Temple freezer that was left over from a party two months ago and clearly melted and refroze at least once.
I enjoyed it.
Here's my best Free Cone Day story.
It was about 1999 and some friends from work and I decided to head down to the Times Square Ben & Jerry's to pick up our free cones. The line was long, as you would expect on Free Cone Day in Midtown at lunch time, but it was really well organized--workers were handing out flavor lists all along the line so everyone could decide what they wanted before getting into the store. The line moved quickly, but it was long enough that you didn't really want to stand on it twice.
When I got into the store, I saw my cousin, whom I hadn't seen in years. I had heard he was working there and that he was living near my brother in Brooklyn, but it was still really cool to see him. His family and mine hadn't been close in a long time, but when I was a kid he used to come by sometimes and he was always fun to be around. And I knew that he always made a point of being in touch with my Nana, and that meant a lot to me.
He saw me and I introduced myself and then he recognized me. He was crazy busy managing the store, but he grabbed me and asked me what I wanted and while he scooped my cone he asked me how life was going. I gave him the quick update, and then he told me that he and his wife were waiting for a baby girl from China. Seriously awesome news, especially since I was planning on moving in with my brother soon, which meant we'd be neighbors and I'd have a baby to play with!
It was a conversation that would change my life, and I didn't even know it. They did adopt the baby from China, and she's an awesome teenager now who I'm proud to be related to. But a few years later I got married, and when Hopper and I decided to adopt, we went to my cousin for advice. Because of his advice to attend an adoption conference, we discovered our agency.
I can't draw a straight line from an ice cream cone to Boo, but there's a distinctive knotty string that gets from point A to point B.
I owe it all to Ben and Jerry. Thanks, guys!
PS: Free Cone Day is my favorite Humanist holiday. What could possibly bring people together in a spirit of friendship better than free ice cream?
Monday, April 8, 2013
Update
I took Wonderdog on a nice, long walk with Hopper today AND I played in the park (frisbee and soccer) with Boo today.
And this is my second blog post.
Take THAT, resolutions!
Also--beautiful spring day today. Huzzah!
And this is my second blog post.
Take THAT, resolutions!
Also--beautiful spring day today. Huzzah!
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
The best way
Hopper went out tonight, so I couldn't watch The Guild. As I often do when Hopper goes out and I'm spending an evening alone (since Boo is in bed,) I went on YouTube and entered "Dan Savage." I found this conversation about adoption, which is excellent if you've got an hour to kill and want to learn about adoption.
Many things they talked about were familiar to me, but what inspired me to write tonight is the notion they mentioned that many people assume adoption is "second best" or "a last resort."
It's not.
Oh, sure, there are many, many people who come to adoption because they have tried every possible treatment for infertility and it didn't work. I'm not denying that.
But if you were to ask around (and you shouldn't--it's none of your business) you'd find a surprising number of people who, like me and Hopper, just wanted to adopt.
We wanted to adopt for many reasons. Personally, I could never understand why anyone would endure infertility treatments. I understand more now, but when I first learned about the idea, I was somewhere between twelve and fourteen and watching a story unfold on a soap opera. A couple was trying everything to conceive, and it made no sense to me. I simply couldn't understand why, with so many children in the world, anyone would go to extremes to get pregnant. I decided then and there that I never would.
And then in college and during my twenties, I started to think about the state of the world, and the number of people on this planet, and I wondered why I should ever want to bring another person into it. (I'm going to leave my personal feelings about pregnancy out of this, because that's enough for another post, or maybe a book.) I simply don't understand why a biological child would be preferable to any other child--why anyone would think of adoption as "second best."
Of course I'm able to reason out why people would feel that way, but it doesn't resonate with me. To me, what makes a family is love and a shared story. If those things aren't there, then it doesn't matter how many genes you have in common--you're not really family. And if they are there, you're family forever, genes or no genes. I didn't figure out that my Uncle Phil wasn't actually a relative until I was about nine or ten, and then later on, I realized that he's more a relative to me than some of my biological relatives are, which is why my parents told me to call him "Uncle" in the first place.
I guess that's why I have so much faith in my marriage--Hopper and Boo and I are a family, so divorce isn't really an option for us, any more than I could divorce my brother. Yes, there are circumstances under which I'd throw my brother out of my life, but they are few and kind of hard to imagine. So the same goes for Hopper. Whatever happens to challenge our marriage, we'll just have to work it out. Unless he starts beating me up or something, he's stuck with me.
It's also why I don't really understand people who search for their birthparents relentlessly. I understand the basic impulse--to find out more about oneself, one's history, or a medical problem. And I love meeting family members I never knew before. A couple of years ago we were reunited with a branch of the family I had never met before. It turned out I had a cousin who lives about a mile from us who has two internationally adopted children about Boo's age. That was really cool, and I enjoy getting to know that branch of my family. If an adult adoptee finds her birth family and makes a connection like that, great! More people to love is always awesome. But I don't understand the need to search for people who don't want to be found. In my book, people who don't want me around just don't matter. [Update: 4/4/13 I am specifically referring here to birth families who don't want to be found or who reject the biological relative once contacted. I do not mean to suggest that birthmothers relinquish their children because they don't want them around. Placing your child for adoption when you cannot care for him or her is possibly the most loving act a parent can perform, and I would never want to belittle that or make adoptees feel like they were rejected at birth.]
All of this is really opinionated, and I want to make clear that I'm not judging other people's decisions and life choices. I'm just giving my perspective, and talking about what resonates with me and what doesn't. I have empathy for someone who wants to conceive and can't, or wants to make a connection with a birth family and can't, or feels the need to divorce. Putting myself in their shoes, I can understand what they feel and why they make the choices they do. I've had dear friends in all three of these situations and I support the decisions they've made because those are their decisions. But they're not the decisions I would make, and in this post, I'm only trying to talk about me and my feelings.
To me, adoption isn't second best. It's just another way to make a family. There are lots of ways to make families, and they're all good. (Well, you know--the legal ones. I'm not advocating kidnapping or rape or incest or whatever other horrible ways there are that families come to be.) For us, international adoption was the right way. I always tell Boo, "You're the best kid in the world. We know--we checked." And it's true. She's the best kid in the world for us. Our family just wouldn't be the same if we had come together any other way. For us, adoption wasn't second best, it was (and is) just right.
So please don't feel sorry for adoptive families you may know. And if you are an adoptive parent, make sure you express to your child that your family is just right the way it is, no matter what you thought would be the way you'd make your family when you started. Looking back, could you really imagine it any other way? Adoption isn't better or worse, it's just different. And different is cool.
Many things they talked about were familiar to me, but what inspired me to write tonight is the notion they mentioned that many people assume adoption is "second best" or "a last resort."
It's not.
Oh, sure, there are many, many people who come to adoption because they have tried every possible treatment for infertility and it didn't work. I'm not denying that.
But if you were to ask around (and you shouldn't--it's none of your business) you'd find a surprising number of people who, like me and Hopper, just wanted to adopt.
We wanted to adopt for many reasons. Personally, I could never understand why anyone would endure infertility treatments. I understand more now, but when I first learned about the idea, I was somewhere between twelve and fourteen and watching a story unfold on a soap opera. A couple was trying everything to conceive, and it made no sense to me. I simply couldn't understand why, with so many children in the world, anyone would go to extremes to get pregnant. I decided then and there that I never would.
And then in college and during my twenties, I started to think about the state of the world, and the number of people on this planet, and I wondered why I should ever want to bring another person into it. (I'm going to leave my personal feelings about pregnancy out of this, because that's enough for another post, or maybe a book.) I simply don't understand why a biological child would be preferable to any other child--why anyone would think of adoption as "second best."
Of course I'm able to reason out why people would feel that way, but it doesn't resonate with me. To me, what makes a family is love and a shared story. If those things aren't there, then it doesn't matter how many genes you have in common--you're not really family. And if they are there, you're family forever, genes or no genes. I didn't figure out that my Uncle Phil wasn't actually a relative until I was about nine or ten, and then later on, I realized that he's more a relative to me than some of my biological relatives are, which is why my parents told me to call him "Uncle" in the first place.
I guess that's why I have so much faith in my marriage--Hopper and Boo and I are a family, so divorce isn't really an option for us, any more than I could divorce my brother. Yes, there are circumstances under which I'd throw my brother out of my life, but they are few and kind of hard to imagine. So the same goes for Hopper. Whatever happens to challenge our marriage, we'll just have to work it out. Unless he starts beating me up or something, he's stuck with me.
It's also why I don't really understand people who search for their birthparents relentlessly. I understand the basic impulse--to find out more about oneself, one's history, or a medical problem. And I love meeting family members I never knew before. A couple of years ago we were reunited with a branch of the family I had never met before. It turned out I had a cousin who lives about a mile from us who has two internationally adopted children about Boo's age. That was really cool, and I enjoy getting to know that branch of my family. If an adult adoptee finds her birth family and makes a connection like that, great! More people to love is always awesome. But I don't understand the need to search for people who don't want to be found. In my book, people who don't want me around just don't matter. [Update: 4/4/13 I am specifically referring here to birth families who don't want to be found or who reject the biological relative once contacted. I do not mean to suggest that birthmothers relinquish their children because they don't want them around. Placing your child for adoption when you cannot care for him or her is possibly the most loving act a parent can perform, and I would never want to belittle that or make adoptees feel like they were rejected at birth.]
All of this is really opinionated, and I want to make clear that I'm not judging other people's decisions and life choices. I'm just giving my perspective, and talking about what resonates with me and what doesn't. I have empathy for someone who wants to conceive and can't, or wants to make a connection with a birth family and can't, or feels the need to divorce. Putting myself in their shoes, I can understand what they feel and why they make the choices they do. I've had dear friends in all three of these situations and I support the decisions they've made because those are their decisions. But they're not the decisions I would make, and in this post, I'm only trying to talk about me and my feelings.
To me, adoption isn't second best. It's just another way to make a family. There are lots of ways to make families, and they're all good. (Well, you know--the legal ones. I'm not advocating kidnapping or rape or incest or whatever other horrible ways there are that families come to be.) For us, international adoption was the right way. I always tell Boo, "You're the best kid in the world. We know--we checked." And it's true. She's the best kid in the world for us. Our family just wouldn't be the same if we had come together any other way. For us, adoption wasn't second best, it was (and is) just right.
So please don't feel sorry for adoptive families you may know. And if you are an adoptive parent, make sure you express to your child that your family is just right the way it is, no matter what you thought would be the way you'd make your family when you started. Looking back, could you really imagine it any other way? Adoption isn't better or worse, it's just different. And different is cool.
Sunday, March 31, 2013
The day is looking up!
I'm always hearing jokes about New Jersey being one long highway, or full of pollution, or only good for malls and diners. To the people who make those jokes, I'd just like to say:
We had an amazing hike today at Norvin Green State Forest. I had never been there before, but I found it online, it's only 35 minutes from our house and the description looked good. It was better than good. Boo kept saying it was the best hike we'd ever been on, and she's been hiking quite a bit for a suburban nine-year-old. There were rocks to climb, views, streams to rock-hop across, and places where Boo and Wonderdog could run. We had a picnic lunch in a big rocky place surrounded by trees, and a snack with this view:
We did have to portage Wonderdog across a couple of streams, but it was worth it:
On our way back to our car, we saw a black bear, but we weren't able to get a good picture. We were just as interested in staying away from it as it was interested in staying away from us.
When I said I wanted to do more active things with Boo and Wonderdog, this is just what I meant. Here's to many more!
We had an amazing hike today at Norvin Green State Forest. I had never been there before, but I found it online, it's only 35 minutes from our house and the description looked good. It was better than good. Boo kept saying it was the best hike we'd ever been on, and she's been hiking quite a bit for a suburban nine-year-old. There were rocks to climb, views, streams to rock-hop across, and places where Boo and Wonderdog could run. We had a picnic lunch in a big rocky place surrounded by trees, and a snack with this view:
We did have to portage Wonderdog across a couple of streams, but it was worth it:
On our way back to our car, we saw a black bear, but we weren't able to get a good picture. We were just as interested in staying away from it as it was interested in staying away from us.
When I said I wanted to do more active things with Boo and Wonderdog, this is just what I meant. Here's to many more!
Monday, March 4, 2013
Settling in
I cannot believe how tired I still am from the move this weekend. I don't know if it's the physical work, because I'm so out of shape, or the stress of causing disorder in my house, but either way I'm SO TIRED.
On the plus side, Boo is still incredibly happy. She gleefully took her homework up to her room to use her "desk" this afternoon. At bedtime, Cat curled up on Boo's bed, and Boo requested that we leave her there when we turned off the light. Cat will need to be moved in a few minutes when we bring Wonderdog up for the night because Boo has a gerbil in her room, and Wonderdog cannot contain his excitement when he encounters the gerbil. We're not sure whether Wonderdog wants to eat the gerbil or play with him, but either way, I don't feel like dealing with a howling, dancing dog in the middle of the night. It's easier to close Boo's door to keep Wonderdog away from the gerbil, and Cat won't appreciate being locked in all night, so we'll let her out of Boo's room before we close the door.
*The gerbil is safely contained in a fish tank. Wonderdog cannot get into the tank to hurt the gerbil, and the gerbil seems to know this--although he used to be afraid of Wonderdog, he is not bothered by him anymore. So no harm will come to the gerbil.
Getting to fall asleep with not one, but two pets in her room is a new treat for Boo and she seems to be enjoying it.
Hopper and I still have a lot of work to do on the new family room, but we made some more progress today. I have learned over many moves that the secret of success is to do something every day, even if it's only to empty one box. Momentum is key.
As our friend Wilkinson used to say, "Onward!"
On the plus side, Boo is still incredibly happy. She gleefully took her homework up to her room to use her "desk" this afternoon. At bedtime, Cat curled up on Boo's bed, and Boo requested that we leave her there when we turned off the light. Cat will need to be moved in a few minutes when we bring Wonderdog up for the night because Boo has a gerbil in her room, and Wonderdog cannot contain his excitement when he encounters the gerbil. We're not sure whether Wonderdog wants to eat the gerbil or play with him, but either way, I don't feel like dealing with a howling, dancing dog in the middle of the night. It's easier to close Boo's door to keep Wonderdog away from the gerbil, and Cat won't appreciate being locked in all night, so we'll let her out of Boo's room before we close the door.
*The gerbil is safely contained in a fish tank. Wonderdog cannot get into the tank to hurt the gerbil, and the gerbil seems to know this--although he used to be afraid of Wonderdog, he is not bothered by him anymore. So no harm will come to the gerbil.
Getting to fall asleep with not one, but two pets in her room is a new treat for Boo and she seems to be enjoying it.
Hopper and I still have a lot of work to do on the new family room, but we made some more progress today. I have learned over many moves that the secret of success is to do something every day, even if it's only to empty one box. Momentum is key.
As our friend Wilkinson used to say, "Onward!"
Sunday, March 3, 2013
Not a Fan
While I am thrilled that Boo is so happy with her new room, and I recognize that we're going to have a lovely family room at the end of this, I am not enjoying the process.
We're all bone tired, and it occurred to me that Boo needs an orderly room to sleep in much more than I need a family room, so we've been concentrating our efforts on getting everything done in there as quickly as possible. We've made a lot of progress--all the furniture is in place, the books are on shelves, the gerbil has been relocated to another part of the room, pictures are on walls, and this afternoon we purchased cork squares and adhered them to one wall. All that's left to do is hang up one more picture that Boo just decided she wants after all and clean out the cabinets in the built-ins, which we left for last because they don't show.
But the family room is a MESS. It looks like it did when we first bought the house and used that room as a swing room. Today I went in and unpacked 5 boxes, plugged in a lamp, and moved some things around in the closet, but there's still a lot to do, including re-assembling the wall of family pictures that used to hang in the office, which is a big job all by itself.
Hopper got the WiFi relocated today, and hopefully tomorrow after work he'll be able to run the wire from the antenna in the attic and we'll set up the TV, although that's not really a priority. The rest is just work. I'm trying to do another round of purging as I unpack boxes because there is just SO MUCH STUFF. But with only one closet instead of two and no built-ins, we're going to have to figure something out. Some of the stuff is going (and already has gone) some can find homes in other rooms, but I think we're also going to have to purchase some kind of storage or put shelves in the closet to accommodate some of the stuff.
SO...MUCH...STUFF!!!
And the worst (or best) part is, purging this stuff makes me want to go through the house and purge even more. We have a bookcase in our bedroom that is full to bursting--maybe we can make room there. And the basement is a mess again with stuff that Boo took out of her room, so maybe we can get rid of more of that. And I know there's a crib in Hopper's closet, but I don't know if we can get it back out because we installed a support pole after we put the crib in there.
I don't like change. I find transitions unsettling and difficult. Also, I like to keep stuff and so does Hopper, so all this purging is hard on us. It's disconcerting having so many rooms in an unsettled state and I keep noticing the regular cleaning that's not getting done.
So I'm trying to focus on what IS getting done, day by day, and committing to doing something every day, even if it's just one box. I have found over many moves that as long as you keep moving, it all gets done more quickly than you think it will. And I'm also focusing on Boo, who stopped in her doorway on the way to take a shower and said, "Wait! I'm enjoying the roominess of my room!"
Because it's not often you can make your kid that happy.
Eyes on the prize! I'm going to relax this evening and get a good night's sleep so that we can make more progress after work tomorrow.
We're all bone tired, and it occurred to me that Boo needs an orderly room to sleep in much more than I need a family room, so we've been concentrating our efforts on getting everything done in there as quickly as possible. We've made a lot of progress--all the furniture is in place, the books are on shelves, the gerbil has been relocated to another part of the room, pictures are on walls, and this afternoon we purchased cork squares and adhered them to one wall. All that's left to do is hang up one more picture that Boo just decided she wants after all and clean out the cabinets in the built-ins, which we left for last because they don't show.
But the family room is a MESS. It looks like it did when we first bought the house and used that room as a swing room. Today I went in and unpacked 5 boxes, plugged in a lamp, and moved some things around in the closet, but there's still a lot to do, including re-assembling the wall of family pictures that used to hang in the office, which is a big job all by itself.
Hopper got the WiFi relocated today, and hopefully tomorrow after work he'll be able to run the wire from the antenna in the attic and we'll set up the TV, although that's not really a priority. The rest is just work. I'm trying to do another round of purging as I unpack boxes because there is just SO MUCH STUFF. But with only one closet instead of two and no built-ins, we're going to have to figure something out. Some of the stuff is going (and already has gone) some can find homes in other rooms, but I think we're also going to have to purchase some kind of storage or put shelves in the closet to accommodate some of the stuff.
SO...MUCH...STUFF!!!
And the worst (or best) part is, purging this stuff makes me want to go through the house and purge even more. We have a bookcase in our bedroom that is full to bursting--maybe we can make room there. And the basement is a mess again with stuff that Boo took out of her room, so maybe we can get rid of more of that. And I know there's a crib in Hopper's closet, but I don't know if we can get it back out because we installed a support pole after we put the crib in there.
I don't like change. I find transitions unsettling and difficult. Also, I like to keep stuff and so does Hopper, so all this purging is hard on us. It's disconcerting having so many rooms in an unsettled state and I keep noticing the regular cleaning that's not getting done.
So I'm trying to focus on what IS getting done, day by day, and committing to doing something every day, even if it's just one box. I have found over many moves that as long as you keep moving, it all gets done more quickly than you think it will. And I'm also focusing on Boo, who stopped in her doorway on the way to take a shower and said, "Wait! I'm enjoying the roominess of my room!"
Because it's not often you can make your kid that happy.
Eyes on the prize! I'm going to relax this evening and get a good night's sleep so that we can make more progress after work tomorrow.
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