A must-read

I'm only halfway through this book, but it is so outstanding that I wanted to share it. It's now on my must-read list for all parents, teachers, and care-givers.

The book is I'm Chocolate, You're Vanilla: Raising Healthy Black and Biracial Children in a Race-Conscious World, by Marguerite A. Wright. Of course, I am not raising a black or biracial child -- but because Anya Rashi has very brown skin, she will look different than 85% of her classmates at school, and already is the focus of many questions and comments in public settings. (The conversation in the grocery store a few posts back also reinforced to me that bigots don't care what your cultural heritage is, they just see the color of your skin.)

Truthfully, though, I'd recommend this book to every parent, even those who are Caucasian parents raising Caucasian children. There was a great Newsweek article (Sept. 2009) called "See Baby Discriminate" that mentioned that Caucasian parents do the worst job of talking openly about racial differences or discrimination, operating under the altruistic but dead wrong idea that children are color blind. The article detailed a variety of fascinating studies that show young children do notice differences in skin color -- they just don't attach any negative meanings to them, unless they've been taught to do so.

I'm Chocolate, You're Vanilla is actually fun to read, because in addition to the interesting and readable scholarly writing Wright does, she also cites many conversations with real children. Their answers are humorous, poignant and uncensored. She also includes memories of adults, some famous and some ordinary people, that shaped their racial identities and ideas about the world.

One of the most valuable elements of the book, though, is that it's broken down by ages and developmental stages. I was totally enthralled by her chapters on pre-schoolers, because it so closely mirrored our experiences and some of Anya Rashi's conversation. Just yesterday, Anya Rashi was building a play fort, and happily said, "I wish my skin looked like yours, Mama."

Many of us adoptive parents would be cringing and thinking, "What have I done to make her think white skin is better than brown skin?! I must tell her she's wrong, that brown skin is gorgeous, etc. etc. etc." Instead of unleashing all that, I asked her, "Why is that, sweetie?"

Her answer? "Because I love to eat vanilla wafers because they're so good, and your skin looks like a vanilla wafer." All with a beautiful smile. So I answered, "Your skin looks delicious to me because it reminds me of chocolate, and you know that's one of my favorite things." This isn't the first conversation we've had -- she usually tells me I look like a peach -- but I found it funny that she used vanilla (as so many pre-schoolers do) while I'm reading this book.

One of the book's main points (so far!) is that adults misread what children are saying at different developmental stages, and often ignore obvious differences in appearance that children are aware of, or overemphasize racism and instill fear and mistrust that outweigh what the child might actually experience in life.

Practically speaking, some of the most useful parts of the book are the quizzes, exercises and suggestions for parents and teachers. I love that the author doesn't just throw a bunch of theories and research on the table, but actually shows how to live out better ways of handling charged racial situations.

I hope you get as much out of this book as I am!

Diwali

This week we recognized the Indian holiday Diwali, that celebration of light winning over darkness, good over evil. With Indian food and candlelight, we placed our thoughts on the Light of the World, and read a few verses about light. I've been thinking a lot lately about the cultural part of adopting a child from one culture and raising them in another, entirely different one.

When we were in our first adoption process, a parent at our school asked us if we were planning to raise our daughter to be Hindu. The obvious answer is that, since we ourselves are not Hindu, we would have no idea how to teach her to be! Another reality to consider is that India itself is home to Muslims, Jains and Sikhs, as well as Hindus and Christians. We love India and are repeatedly asking ourselves how we can honor the traditions and holidays of her birth country (many of which are Hindu), while also teaching her about and including her in our own devotion to Christ. We want her to be proud of being Indian, and we want her to know the history and modern-day realities of the country we've grown to love.

We are still learning how to combine cultures. We want Anya Rashi to know about all things Indian -- and so we teach her what Diwali is about. In our own family celebration, we make Chicken Makhani and Pav Bhaji (full disclosure: the Makhani is homemade from scratch, and the Pav Bhaji is by our good pal Trader Joe), we light candles in Indian candle-holders, and we celebrate the victory of light overcoming darkness.

We think of our friends Usha and Murli, and other Christians in India doing amazing work caring for the poor, tending the sick, loving the abandoned, and feeding the hungry. We think about the boys from Mumbai who visited our church this summer, and marvel over their stories of rescue from the streets thanks to the love of K. K. Devraj and Bombay Teen Challenge. They are all living the victory of good over evil every day, and we pray for them.

So our Diwali is a bit of a mosaic. How about yours? I'd love to hear how other families navigate this part of parenting.

Costumes & grocery store adoption bonding

Just wanted to share a few photos of our fun weekend. Peter and I dressed as, umm, geezers for a costume wedding reception. Much of our costumes came courtesy of my Mom: I was sporting her fabulous cat-eye sunglasses from the 1960s, along with her hat, gloves, and fur-trimmed coat, while Peter carried my grandpa's cane.

The kids, however, were way cuter! Building off Anya Rashi's wish to be dressed as cheese, Aaron and Nathan agreed to be a mouse and a mousetrap. Nathan even made up a name for his rodent trap: The Mouse-inator 3000!

* * *

This morning brought one of those blessed moments that seem to happen at just the right time along this adoption journey. As Anya Rashi and I were headed toward the check-out at our grocery store, a woman in her late 50s stopped us.

"Excuse me," she said, "but is your daughter adopted from India?" She went on to say that she and her husband have two adult children who were born in Pune! Her son is now the director of aquatics at one of our local YMCAs, and her daughter works for a city Park & Recreation Department. Hoping to gain some wisdom from her, I asked how their experiences had been when their kids were older.

She said her kids have a positive view of being adopted, but ran into a few bumps in the road as they grew up because of other people's perceptions. When her daughter was in elementary school, she came home from school one day and innocently asked her mother "What does n----- mean?" She had never heard the word before, but another child had called her that at school. Her son has been subjected to extensive searches at airports EVERY single time he has flown. He gets profiled as a terrorist every time he sets foot in an airport, and once was pulled out of line for a second search after the first one.

She congratulated us on our upcoming adoption, and said she remembered how hard it was to wait -- she and her husband got the call about their first child during a New Year's Eve party at their house, and her eyes still glowed as she retold the story. She also showed me photos of her gorgeous grown children. It was such a joy to talk with a mom who has raised her kids and navigated some of the difficult parts of having children from another culture.

We said goodbye -- my frozen food was melting, and she was visiting the store with her clients (she works in an assisted living center) -- and both of us walked away feeling blessed, I think.

A year on the list

This was one of our family photos for our dossier.

Last year, on October 27, Peter and I were giddy with excitement to finally be "on the list." I posted that we were going to enjoy that feeling, because it wouldn't be nearly as exciting 12 months later -- and I was right. Here we are, in the same position on the list that we were in June -- frustrating!

Truly, adoption is a marathon, not a sprint. We will celebrate Diwali next Friday with some Indian food and lots of candle-light, but I will secretly be wishing for the holiday to be over so business can start up again in Kolkata and Delhi.

I keep reminding myself that we waited 13 months for Anya Rashi . . . and that turned out pretty well!

This week will be a good one for getting my mind off of the list. We have to start building an operational volcano for Aaron's homework (yikes!), and we need to do some Halloween costume construction. Last time I checked, the boys were going to be a pirate and a knight -- but Anya Rashi was still deciding between a princess, a fairy, a butterfly, a mermaid, a lion, a doctor, or cheese.

That's right, cheese. :o)

I'm a real girl!

At the library last week, we found a fun picture book related to adoption. In The Best Family in the World by Susana Lopez, a girl named Carlota finds out that a family will be adopting her. She fantasizes about her family being astronauts, tiger tamers, pastry chefs . . . and discovers that although they're regular people, elements of her fantasies are part of her new life. For instance, they may not work with tigers in the circus, but her new Grandma has two cats. I thought it was a great way to address the fantasies adopted children sometimes have about their birthparents, while appreciating what their adoptive families actually are like.

* * *

The title of this post refers to something I want to remember when the kids are older. Nathan often tells Anya Rashi "You're so cute!" Lately, she has started to object to being called "cute." Their conversation usually goes like this:

Nathan: "You're so cute!"

Anya Rashi: (fiercely) "I'm not cute! I'm a real girl!!"

After a moment:

Anya Rashi: "You can call me wonderful."

When we were driving and noticing all the spectacular fall colors, Anya Rashi said, "When I see those leaves, it's like God is hugging my eyes."

* * *

Much to the future embarrassment of my children, I am not above dumpster-diving. In our city, there's a kind of tradition that if you're getting rid of something usable, you leave it on the curb a day before garbage pick-up with a sign that says "free." Most often, someone will make it disappear, saving it from the landfill. Also, on the week when there is pick-up for bigger items, your stash on the curb is fair game for anyone who can make use of it.

Last week, we were on the way home from Aaron's boychoir rehearsal when something on the curb caught my eye. After many times on the "giving" end, it was my turn to be on the receiving end! I spied a nightstand that looked interesting . . . it definitely needed some TLC, but looked sturdy and well-made.

Anya Rashi and I took advantage of a warm day and sanded, washed and cleaned it, then put on a first coat of white paint, leftover from when I painted the kids' rooms. I'm not sure where it's going to go in our house -- one of the kids' rooms, possibly . . . But it is a nice, solid piece of free furniture! I'll have to post an "after" picture when we're done.

* * *

We went to a state park two weekends ago to enjoy some of our last fine autumn days. The kids love that park, because there's a huge lake, an observation tower, a statue of a Native American chief, and lots of hiking trails (not to mention some impromptu rock climbing walls!). We have to soak up every last drop of good weather before winter comes . . . and it definitely helps me to stay busy with family things while we wait for our referral.

A timely gift

The scarf in the background is one that I found during our trip to bring home Anya Rashi.

Well, we are officially in October. Although I absolutely love autumn, I haven't been looking forward to it this year. This is the month when we can expect nothing to happen with our adoption, due to the Hindu holidays Diwali and Durga Puja.

In general, I've been handling the wait pretty well, but my friend Laurie totally undid me this morning. She brought a birthday gift to church this morning for me, and when I opened it I just started to cry. The photo doesn't do it justice, but the pendant shows a family of two parents with four children -- a little reminder of what our family will look like, hopefully sometime in 2011.

What a thoughtful friend -- and a truly beautiful reminder to keep my eyes on the finish line of this long journey that began in March of 2009. I treasure this gift even more because Laurie herself was adopted when she was an infant, and has been so supportive as we wait. She is a gem!

I also want to say thank you to everyone who left a comment about my last post. I was feeling the love from all of you who have been there (or are currently in the poopy-training trenches with me!). I was so happy to read them that Peter shook his head and said, "Only a mother would be this excited to read comments about poop." And he's right!

Fun times with Anya Rashi

Notice that she's stuck a playing card and a big flat magnet into the heating/AC vent. Everyone needs a hobby, right?

She's showing you her popcorn, before it's chewed, mercifully!

With the boys back in school during the days, I've had a few fun weeks of girl time with Anya Rashi. I think ages 3-5 are one of the "sweet spots" of parenting. Anya Rashi is so much fun right now, with many original ideas about how the world works.

She asked me to e-mail Peter at work and tell him that "we love him so much that we are going to croak."

Earlier in the week, she was talking about her baby sister, as she often does. In past conversations, she's asserted that her baby sister "will have black hair like me, and brown skin like me." Things took a turn this week, when she piped up from her carseat, "Mom? I hope my baby sister has white hair, or green hair. Or . . . maybe . . . hair like yours." It's nice to have my plain old brown hair lumped in with such exotic choices. :o)

Tonight at our nephew's soccer game, Aunt Mary gave Anya Rashi a sucker, and was joking with her about not sticking it in her nose because it might get stuck there. Then the conversation went like this:

Aunt Mary: So we don't stick suckers in our noses, right?

Anya Rashi: Nope! Only fingers!

(Eew.)

Amidst all the fun, I'm seeking advice from other mamas:

With school starting and our days less interrupted, I've been trying to close the deal on toilet training. You'd think I'd be a pro by now, since I've successfully trained two already . . . but you'd be wrong. Anya Rashi has a will of iron about going #2. Training for potty was a breeze, but she has some kind of major fear about going #2 where she's supposed to.

Compounding the problem is the necessity of running around with two older children (that's why I waited until our days would be free to focus on #2). Often, I have had to use Pull-Ups because we don't have the ability to do underwear clean up at, say, a baseball diamond or piano lesson. I detest Pull-Ups (and considered titling this post "Why Pull-Ups are of the Devil," but thought that was a little too dramatic!) because they prolong the training.

But I've been using them here and there -- until this week. We've been all undies, all the time . . . with zero success. Argh. This girl is stubborn. I've stolen an idea from another mom, who uses a discipline technique called "The Basic Plan" vs. "The Deluxe Plan." The Basic Plan is love and basic meals, but no other frills or treats (no desserts, trips to the library, wearing a favorite outfit, extra fun things like PlayDough, etc.). The Deluxe Plan includes all the trimmings and special privileges.

We're going to have the Basic Plan on days when she doesn't put #2 in the toilet, and hope that she figures out that life is a lot more interesting with the Deluxe Plan. (Don't know if I'm going to inflict Anya Rashi in underwear on the Sunday school volunteers, though . . . she will either have to stay in church with me, or wear the dreaded Pull-Ups.)

Does anyone out there have experience with a stubborn pooper? Please leave your advice in the comments -- I'm desperate! I'd love to have some ideas to try if a few weeks of the Basic Plan doesn't do the trick. Thanks!