Sunday, April 29, 2007
Faith
After
working our way through the illiteracy issues the church threw at us,
Pipo will be making his First Communion in 2 weeks. But first, we had
to take care of his Baptismal certificate. He is pretty sure he was
baptized, as he remembers pictures back in Haiti and has godparents as
well. But as is the way in Haiti, record keeping is not a priority. We
had friends going back to Haiti this year make a couple of attempts to
track down some paperwork, but we knew it was pretty hopeless. So in
order to get the required certificate to move on with First Communion,
we needed to have a conditional baptism done.
Our good friend,
Fr. Austin Fleming offered to baptize Pipo on Saturday. Fr. Fleming had
baptized Charlie and Emma as well, and we knew he would make this very
special for Pipo. And he did. But what was really special about this
was hearing how Pipo reacted to the questions he was asked. With each
question Fr. Fleming asked him, Pipo responded quickly, eagerly,
incredibly sincerely. "Do you love God?" "Do you know God loves you?"
"Do you love Jesus, his son?" Do you believe the spirt of God is inside
you?" Each and every time, Pipo didn't hesitate for a second and with a
big grin, said "Yes, of course!"
It just blows me away every
time I experience this kid's faith. So many times, when life gets hard
or tiring, when finances have us feeling down, when it seems like each
week I am taking another kid to the doctor for this sickness or that,
when any kind of stress is thrown at us, I know sometimes I feel my own
faith wavering. I will find myself thinking "Why me God? Why us? God,
can't you just cut us a break?" But to think of what Pipo has been
through in his 10 short year, and to hear him so quickly affirm his own
faith... it is truly humbling. This child has experienced war, famine,
disease, hunger, poverty, death, you name it, he has experienced it
first hand. And yet his faith is stronger than just about anyone I
know.
I watched my son stand there and proudly have holy water
poured on his head, hold himself high when he was annointed in the oil
and say "Amen" right along with the priest, and mean it... really mean
it. And I know I have seen true faith. I know this is the kind of faith
I need to work at.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
"Adopting is the New Black"
Every
once in a while, you come across some type of marketing ploy that is so
utterly tasteless it's unbelievable. Usually, I walk away shaking my
head. But a look at a clothing ad for Urban Outfitters has me shaking
my head...but not walking away. I know how much adoption is in the
media these days, with big name celebrities like Brangelina and Madonna
parading their new children through the spotlights. Its the new
"trendy" thing...everybody's doing it.
In some ways I look at
this media hype and think, hey..maybe a few more people will think
about adopting, maybe they'll realize what a wonderful thing it is,
maybe a few kids will be saved. But I'm not stupid. I know the
realities. For all the loving adoptive families out there, there will
also be those people out there who jump on the 'trendy' bandwagon, and
go out and get themselves a cute new accessory. It's a frightening
thought that there could be people becoming parents because they think
it's cool, and they want to 'go hollywood'.
We didn't come about our adoption in the usual ways. (Are there even usual ways?)
Ours was an unplanned, fly by the seat of our pants, I am still amazed
it's even real adoption. But that's a story for another day. What I
mean is, we had no intention of being trendy. Of all of my friends and
family who have adopted, I can't think of a single one who was
following a trend. Maybe there are people out there who did this, but
not the ones I know. But that doesn't stop the occasional lame brain
with diarhea of the mouth from throwing the " aren't you guys trendy"
comments our way.
It's one thing for me to hear stupid
comments or jokes about this. It's another thing to display it loudly
in black and white for all to see. I think about how offended I was
when first seeing this shirt. But that isn't even the beginning of it.
I think about the young birth mother who made an unbelievable
sacrifice, and what does she think when she sees this shirt? And I
think about my 10 year old son, and I am sickened by what he might
think. Just sick.
Monday, April 16, 2007
Doing hair...
Reading
up on older child adoption before Pipo arrived, one of the main things
I saw over and over was the word 'attachment'. I wasn't all that
worried about him, as I knew he was coming from a home where he was
well loved, with family who had always been close. Most severe
attachment issues come from situations where there has been abuse,
neglect, or institution-like settings. But it was always in the back of
my head, and I knew it may take a while for anyone to bond with a group
of complete strangers after going through a tremendous upheaval.
Looking back, I am still amazed at how quickly Pipo just jumped right
in here. But even so, I still like to reinforce things as often as I
can.
One of the greatest ways I have found to build in some good
bonding time is by doing his hair. I didn't plan this...especially with
a boy. But Pipo himself decided to let his hair grow out last summer,
and so I had to learn pretty quickly how to take care of all that hair.
At camp this past summer, I had a counselor (who became a good friend
very quickly!) sit with me and walk me through doing "coil twists". 3
very long hours later, Pipo looked great. Unfortunately, 3 days later,
after running around, swimming and rolling in the grass...the twists
were gone. Since that first attempt, I have experimented a bit, and
Pipo and I have compromised a bit. He allowed me to shave off a good
portion of his head, and now we do 2 strand twists just on top. Even
with all my practice, and twists only on top, it still takes close to
an hour. But it is a solid hour of just 'me and Pipo' time. Hands on,
one on one, serious bonding time.
Tonight, he was in a grouchy
mood heading up to take a shower, having had his TV time interupted.
When he was done, I told him I needed to put lotion in his hair. He did
the usual eyerolling, and heavy sighing, but came and stood still for
me. Sneaky mom started to re-do a few twists, and before you know it,
he was relaxed against my knees, sitting on the stairs, and chatting
away. One thing that helps is that this kid loves to look good. And he
knows when he is done that he looks great. This picture was taken
immediately after I finished tonight... when he ran to look in the
mirror, and said "Quick, get the camera, I look good!"
Friday, April 13, 2007
Soccer...
So tomorrow starts the Spring soccer season in Fitzville.
Let's talk numbers here...
7 kids
6 soccer players
5 teams
4 schedules
So
by 8:30 am tomorrow I need to have 6 pairs of cleats, 6 pairs of
shinpads, 6 pairs of soccer socks, 6 soccer shorts, 6 shirts, and
because of the lovely New England weather we have been experiencing, 6
pairs of sweatpants and turtlenecks. If you add all of this up... it
equals 1 set of insane parents.
Wednesday Nights
Every
Wednesday night here in Fitzville is spaghetti night. For the past 3
years or so, I get up early, and make a huge crockpot full of homemade
sauce and meatballs. It started as just a couple of friends coming each
week to dinner. Then a few more started to come, and then a few more.
Now we have 5-6 people who come just about every week, and then a whole
crowd that shows up occasionally. All our friends know the door is open
that night, and there is always room at the table. some nights are
quieter, some nights there will be 15 people or more squeezed in. We
usually feed the kids a little earlier, and then the big people sit
down. It always ends up in loud laughter around the table.
And
some nights, if we are lucky... people will start to break out the
instruments. This past Wednesday, our friend Ricardo stopped by with
his fiddle, and before we knew it we had a full on jam session in the
dining room. Our good friends Kate and Mike had come by as they are
still awaiting a new oven, and Mike surprised us with some awesome
piano playing. As they jumped right into a loud, raucus version of
"Friend of the Devil" I wondered if any of the neighbors would call. No
worries, there was plenty more meatballs and wine to give them too!
People
are always shocked when they learn we do this. "You have 7 kids, and
you have a big dinner party each week???" I know they think we are
insane. But the truth is, Wednesday nights are what keep me
sane. As tired as Fitz and I might be, whatever has gone on during the
week, we never fail to start smiling sometime around Wednesday
afternoon. It's our one night to put evrything else aside, and remember
why we love this life. Whatever struggles life may throw our way, we
have been incredibly blessed with some amazing friends. It's nice to be
reminded of this every week.
Monday, April 9, 2007
Working it out
Recently,
Fitz was reading to me from a study about kids sharing rooms... how
kids growing up with siblings and sharing rooms do better in college,
when they need to live in dorms and get along with new roomates. When I
stop and watch my kids, it's true... it's amazing the negotiating
skills even my 4 year old has.
People often comment on how well
the kids all get along. I always laugh and explain that when there are
7 of them, there really is no sense in fighting... it's a waste of
time. If you aren't getting along with one sibling, just go and find
another to play with. It all works out in the end.
In some
instances, this is all the more obvious. I can actually see the lessons
being learned, the art of compromise and negotiation being worked out
right there before my eyes. Tonight the kids all decided to play
charades after dinner. Margaret, as typical of her, is the one who came
up with the idea, and got everyone going with it. For a while, it was
all good and fun, with lots of laughter and shouting, and "Mom look at
this one!" But eventually, (as typical of her) Margaret began to revise
the rules to suit her own purposes. This didn't go over well. And it
didn't last long.
Very quickly, the boys caught on to the fact
that the game was leaning heavily in Margaret's direction, and they
began to quit the game one by one. But as soon as 3 had quit, they
realized they had enough to start their own game. And because they were
loud about it, and boasting how much more fun it was, the youngest kids
quickly jumped ship and left Margaret stranded, alone in her own game.
Wouldn't you know it... she had a change of heart, and suddenly decided
maybe there rules weren't so bad after all.
This all happened
within the course of 15 minutes. No input from Mom was needed (or even
asked for!) and the problem was resolved with no tears being shed. Life
in a big family lesson #1... It all works out in the end.
Saturday, April 7, 2007
Angry...
I
have been wanting to post this since yesterday, but wasn't sure if I
could find the words. It is still making me uncomfortable, sad, and
yes, angry.
As I was getting the kids off the bus yesterday, the
busdriver asked to have a word with me. It seems that the parents of
two little first graders on the bus had "come home in tears" because
Pipo had been "saying things to them, and said he would send them to
the principal." I told the busdriver I would speak to him, but that I
was very surprised, as it was very out of character for him. She
agreed, and said that is why she wanted to talk to me before she
responded to these parents. I said to her that sadly, I know that
sometimes people may see the color of his skin and assume he is the
'bad' kid. I wasn't sure how she would respond to that, but she
immediately agreed, and said that was what she was afraid of, so she
wanted to give me the heads up. I love this busdriver, and am so
thankful she knows our family, but more importantly knows Pipo and
knows he is a good kid. And she was just as angry as I was about the
possibility of parents seeing him as "that black kid".
So I
spoke with Pipo and wasn't surprised at all to hear him tell me (with
EJ backing him up) that the two little girls were laughing at him so he
told them if they didn't stop he would tell the principal. I told him I
was proud of him, and that that is exactly what he should have done,
and that he can also tell the busdriver next time. I also had a longer
conversation with both he and EJ about how sometimes people will say
mean things or laugh at people just because they look or sound
different, and that that is WRONG and they should always stand up to it.
I
know this is only the beginning...I know we will have many more
discussions that will be a little more detailed. I know my son is only
beginning to understand what racism is all about. But it breaks my
heart that this beautiful little boy has to learn it now. I wish I
could protect him forever, but I know that's not the way. I need to
teach him to be proud of who he is, and to be strong. And somehow I
need to teach him to educate through the anger. And somehow I need to
teach myself to educate through the anger. But it's hard...it's just so
damned hard.
Tuesday, April 3, 2007
Old Blue
So,
the final tally is in, and Kaleigh is the only one in the house who has
escaped antibiotics. We are all home for the day, wrapped in sleeping
bags, watching the Jetsons. All in all, sick days aren;t too bad!
Having
most of the crew home on a lazy rainy morning has me dreaming about the
summer. And what would our summer be without Old Blue. I love this old
bus almost as a member of the family.
Almost 3 years ago, I was
driving through town dropping one of the kids off at a friend's house,
when I saw this giant blue and chrome beast sitting on the side of the
road. I literally stopped the van, catching my breath. It was truly
love at first sight. After drooling over it for a minute or two, I went
on about my day. But that night, I remembered it, and was telling Fitz
about it. About this amazing old bus I had seen, that looked like Willy
Nelson should be touring the country on it. Of course he had to see it,
so we took a ride over to where it had been parked. Unfortunately, it
was no longer there, and we laughed about how I must have imagined it.
Over
a month later, Fitz was down at the Inn getting ready to play. An old
friend stopped by with a neighbor, Bill, who Fitz had never met. They
got to talking, and somehow came around to summer plans. Our friend
mentioned that we should think about getting an RV someday, how it
would be perfect with all the kids. Fitz laughed and told him that we
had never even considered it, although "Denise saw some old bus on the
side of the road last month that she fell in love with." Bill said
"Maybe that was mine..." Fitz laughed and said it couldn't have been,
that I had told him this was some old retro chrome beast. The guy said
"then it definitely was mine." After much laughing about coincindences,
Fitz was talked into going over to look at the bus at Bill's house
later on.
I had been down on the Cape at the time with all the
kids. While Fitz was looking at the bus, Bill asked if he wanted to
come back with the family to take it for a ride. Fitz thanked him, but
said that the family was down on the Cape, and that he would be joining
us the next day. Bill, who Fitz had met just that night, tossed Fitz
the keys, and said "Why don't you surprise them all."
Surprise
doesn't come close to describing what I felt that day hearing that old
diesel engine rumbling up my parents road. If it had been love at first
sight for me, the second sight nearly bowled me over. I honestly can't
explain what I felt, or how I still feel about an inanimate object. At
the time it seemed completely irrational, but after 3 years, I am
beginning to understand my feelings.
After spending a weekend on
the bus, constantly reminding all kids that we were "just borrowing
it", Fitz dorve the bus back to Bill's house. I thought that would be
the end of it. But an hour later, Fitz is back at our house with the
bus. It turned out that Bill and his wife had been trying to sell it
for a while now, and really just wanted a family in it that would love
it and appreciate it. Fitz tried again and again to explain we were in
no position to buy something like this bus, but Bill insisted he could
make it work. He told Fitz that we could just pay him along the way,
when we could and to not worry about it. Fitz knew he couldn't turn
this offer down, and with that, Old Blue became part of the family.
Since
then, we have spent a good prtion of every summer on that old bus. We
live on it when we are working up at camp in New Hampshire, we take it
down to the Cape to have some extra sleeping room when the whole family
is down. We take it for day trips to random rurual roads to just park
and let the kids run wild. We spent 2 glorious weeks pulling the kids
out of school and driving down south to the Outer Banks one Spring.
Drove that bus right onto a ferry and over to the little Island of
Ocracoke. This bus gives us memories that I know the kids will be
sharing with their grandkids many, many years from now.
But more
than those trips, more than those memories, this old bus makes us such
a tight unit of a family. After spending the whole year running kids in
7 different directions, from school, to soccer, to tae kwon do, to
Irish step, to fencing, to track, etc.... We get on that bus and move
as a unit. From late June to September, we are Team Fitz. All 9 of us,
moving as one. I live for these summers. I live for this bus.
Monday, April 2, 2007
House of sick
Well,
after slowly working our way through strep the last couple of weeks,
the real germs have decided to make themselves at home here. Last night
Emma spiked a fever of 104. I stayed up a while, rechecking her, dosing
her up with Tylenol, and finally sent her to bed when it was down below
102. This morning, Margaret woke up crying her throat hurts, so I sent
her back up to bed with some tylenol, and went on to wake the rest of
the crew up for school. They came down stairs with a rousing chorus of
coughing. Checked temps all around, and only Charlie and EJ wer okayed
to go to school. So I am off to the doctors for some more throat
cultures this morning, and then amybe to buy some industrial sized
bottles of tylenol, robitussin and maybe even amoxicillan if they'll
let me!
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