helper
Kembe takes his role as "helper" very seriously. Sometimes I have a hard time believing this kid is the same age as India, because he acts like such a little adult. One of his favorite pastimes is sweeping. I promise - he does this of his own will. And he is remarkably good at it. My other two kids like to pretend to sweep - they sort of push the broom around and then call it a day. Kembe is serious about it. He edges in from the corners and even uses the dustpan. And then he grabs the . . .
on preschool & parenting other people’s kids
Kembe has been watching his brother and sister go off to preschool for a month now. To be perfectly honest, those mornings have been tough on both of us. He always seems really low when they are gone. Karis naps half the time, and I think a quiet house where he is the only kid is not a familiar scene for him. When we pick the kids up, he seems so relieved. He has also seemed curious about the preschool thing, and recently started asking to go. Last week, he started crying every time they . . .
hoping for a parasite
Do you have any big goals for the week? Something daunting on your to-do list you are really hoping to accomplish?Here is mine:I am now in the possession of ten (yes, TEN) specimen containers that need to be filled and returned to the local children's hospital. Kembe had some bloodwork done last week at the free clinic. It came back with some wonky levels of eonosphilsomethingorother. The doctor said it could be an indicator of some serious conditions, including leukemia. Or it could just . . .
quotable
I love this quote, and I think it's important for all parents, not just parents of children of color:We can choose to actively influence our children's attitudes. With our encouragement children will test and think through their beliefs about race, ethnicity, and religion. They are unlikely to ask the necessary hard questions without our help. It is up to us to take the initiative!Children care about justice, respect, and fairness. Squabbles about sharing, concerns about cliques, and . . .
the other side of the couch
Mark and I went to see a therapist today. We made an appointment with a great gal who helps adoptive parents with the attachment process. We aren't really having significant attachment issues with Kembe - we just wanted to make sure that we were on the right track, and to see if she had any advice on a few behavioral things we are dealing with. Kembe is transitioning so well- he is an amazing kid and I attribute so much of that to the loving care he had at Heartline. But any child adopted . . .
weaned.
warning: boob talk ahead. Dad, go read this.Karis and I have officially said goodbye to our nursing relationship. I didn't expect it to happen so soon. I thought we would go well past her first birthday - especially since up until my Haiti trip, we had been pretty exclusive. I was rather dedicated . . . even taking her along to a half-marathon girl's trip and a trip to Haiti. It's a little frustrating that the whole thing fizzled just a few weeks later, since both of those trips would have . . .
their cheatin’ hearts
See these two? That's Jafta and Ryder. They have been best friends for five years. They met each other as babies and they love hanging out together. They are the same age, and Ryder lives down the street. All day, every day, Jafta is asking to hang out with Ryder. But . . . they go to different preschools. Jafta goes in the morning. Ryder goes in the afternoon. It's all very complicated and sad for these two.Now, see this?This is what happens when I have a desperately bored 3-year-old . . .
rage against the minivan
It has happened. I own my very own minivan. In my heart, I'm still rebelling against it. There is rage. Oh yes, there is rage. But also, there is a sliding door that closes with a button, and a trunk that fits my ginormous stroller. So there you go.And really, how mortified can I be about my own ride when my new son is rolling the neighborhood on a princess bike? It's all about perspective. . . .
bigotry, blindness, & basketball
I signed all three of my "big kids" up for a basketball class. I thought it would be really fun to put them in a class where they could learn together, so I searched for one that accepted kids age 3-5. The class was held at a upscale community center in one of the swankier areas of Newport Beach.(I was also hoping to get India interested in something other than dressing up in princess costumes. This is here "I can't believe you are making me wear pants" face.)As soon as I pulled up, I got a . . .
would ya, could ya?
I have a couple requests. I am gonna be messing around with some technical stuff on my blog soon, including officially dropping the current domain host so it is no longer my last name. (And yes, I might be driving a minivan now. And no, I'm not changing my blog name. My feelings remain.)Some of you have kindly linked to this blog from your own blogs, and I am so flattered. If you have linked to me, would you mind making sure it is linking to rageagainsttheminivan.com, and not to . . .
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