Blue Collar Adoption

4.04.2009

An amazing photographer

I had to pass on this link to some breathtaking photographs of Ethiopia. This is a fellow adoptive parent from Ethiopia that used the same agency we did; Wide Horizons For Children. He photographed humanitarian work that the agency is dedicated to. I cant wait for the multi media project to be released. I think his work is simply stunning.

http://www.tylerstableford.com/portfolio.php?dirid=10&img=149

3.27.2009

Thought I forgot photos?!?

Artistic drinking shot by Kiana.

KaiMisikir loves the tunnel.

Kai with his best friend :)

Kiana and Kai riding scooters.

Tea time!

Kai admires art while the other children squabble over plates.

Please stand still so I can get a picture of you with Tarikua!

Kai loves any music making.

Intense handy work.

Older girl crush on Lidia?

Kiana posing on her dirt bike.

She's a pro.

Walking out to the corn fields to watch Kiana ride.

2.26.2009

2009

2009

2009

It's come in like a hurricane- ferocious, amazing to watch, but really scary.

The election of President Obama? So fantastic and such a huge relief! It was historic, ground breaking, inspiring. Watching the results come in, waiting to hear them say, without a doubt, that Senator Barack Obama was now our President?!! I had to cry. The happy kind.

And my children?! They are so great, such a riot and with such interesting and continually developing personalities.

Kiana is almost twelve and a half. The half is important as it is clearly half way to thirteen. For me thirteen is the actual teenager stage, the other side of that boundary that was pre-adolescence. She is some what moodier these days, with some eye rolling and sighing thrown in. I have to encourage her to keep her door open because I miss not seeing her! She is navigating her way through friendships, school and boys. Thankfully the latter of which is not too enticing as of yet.

She is doing well in school and enjoying aspects of math she didn't think she would. She finished up with basketball and downhill skiing and wants to go back to swimming lessons. Last year Kiana got to the highest level but needed to complete some challenging time limits of strokes to have an individual instructor work with her. She wasn't interested in joining the swim team so she decided to stop going. Now she is starting to think of summer jobs for the next few years and what she might do, the thought of life guarding is looking pretty enticing. I'm not pushing her either way, I'm completely open to whatever choices she makes and I'm happy to have her start lessons again and work on her stamina.

The self consciousness that comes with being a middle school breaks my heart. When she thinks shes unattractive or doubts her abilities, I try to encourage her to see all the bright spots too. But I cant protect her from having her feelings hurt, or experiencing all those things that shape the people we become.

Kai Misikir is the funniest, most determined, affectionate and animated little kiddo. He is walking, climbing and almost running. He knows so many words and can say daaaddy (he says that one alot), kitty, mama, more, doggy, cheese, some, mine, a resemblance of Kiana (it sounds like na naah na), cup, as well as other attempts that make him sound like he has his own foreign language, with intonations and facial expressions to match.

Occasionally Kai Misikir will say what sounds like "ishe" which is a word commonly used in Ethiopia meaning "OK" as in that's OK, every thing's OK, OK I heard you- you get the point. Its been just about eight months that Kai has been in our family, so it seems impossible that this is what he is actually saying. But you never know.

As you may have guessed I have struggled with writing. I think there is quite a few reasons why this may be.

I have lost those quiet, empty blocks of time where I could leisurely write away when ever I wanted. Being more disciplined about sitting down and writing hasn't gone so well. I'm either so tired at night I just go to bed, or surf the net, or read other peoples blogs (thank god julie is still writing). I'm at work during the day with Kai Misikir and the week ends get filled up with laundry and running Kiana around.

I have faced real challenges within my family recently with lay offs and economic struggles. My husband, my father, my daughters father, are all in the construction trades. Except that no one is building anything, therefor no one is able to work. I have never in my life experienced being around so many different people who are able and desire to work, and yet are in limbo, unable to find any work. I hesitate to go into this further which brings me to my next reason for not blogging lately;

people actually read my blog. Maybe that's putting it into too simplistic of terms, but it hit me one day when I received an e mail from my blog counter website. It was letting me know that the counter had hit 11,500. Now, don't get me wrong, I know many of those numbers are from the same people checking in, and some are clicks from people stumbling upon the blog in a search for something else. And relative to other, more successful blogs the number is low. But seeing those numbers somehow made it real for me.

What exactly is blogging about? I read an article recently (that I cant seem to find now) that discussed blogging as the ultimate vehicle of ego and self interest. The idea that what your life experience and family activities are constitute interesting reading for others.
And yet I've "met" some really cool people through my blog. I've met other parents who have or are planning on adopting. I've connected with people that have similar political and life views. But- I don't really know them. I know what they choose to post about on their blog, what they are willing to share. I am pretty sure that we would get along quite well were we to actually meet.
So blogging cant be all bad if Ive made these pseudo connections. I can honestly say if my car broke down some where near a blogging friend, lets say Shrijnana, I could jot off an e mail and she would call me a tow truck and offer some yogi tea.

So do I want to write about what it felt like to be laid off from the hotel company where I worked for seven years by e mail?!? Because my whopping $13 an hour was killing their payroll in "these tough economic times"? Yes of course. However I need to keep my contacts and bite my tongue and fiercely believe in karma. Who knows who could be reading...

Maybe I should write about the nightmares I have. The little girl in Addis Ababa at the top of the hill where our van momentarily stopped. In my dream she stands and stares at us, slowly sinking into the mud until it envelopes her- and I cant do anything. I just sit there and watch her disappear. In my mind I am screaming, desperate to help her, but my body stays motionless...
Or maybe my guilt over bartering with the weaver for her scarves- how many birr to a dollar? Whats wrong with me anyways, I wish now I had paid her double.
All the things I would have done differently while in Ethiopia if I had only known better.
Or perhaps I should write about the heartache I feel for the "waiting" children, the lump that starts in my throat when I remember visiting the big kids house at the orphanage. How I feel we live in such abundance in America, we could certainly adopt again- an older child this time. Or a child with HIV. And how adopting again scares my husband and causes disagreements between us. He is convinced at 40 he's too old. Ridiculous.

Should I write about my struggle to save my friendship with my bestest friend? How living all together in a 1200 square foot house has been really challenging? 3 adults, 2 children (including a pre-teen), 3 dogs and 3 cats (two are hers). At this point I'm not even sure its saving us any money. I don't think its easy for any of us, perhaps not the best thought out plan. Like Bush, we had/have no exit strategy.

And yet I'm really grateful. I am especially grateful that our current challenges didn't happen six months earlier which would have interfered with our adoption. I am eternally grateful for the gift that is KaiMisikir, for being able to pick him up before the late summer court closings. For how healthy he was when he was relinquished to the orphanage. For the sacrifice his mother, and then grandmother made. For the transparency of the process of his adoption.
I often think about the afternoon I shared with his favorite nanny, how we cried and hugged regardless of the language barrier. Would he know the nannies now? Their smile? their smell? the octaves of their melodic voices?

My favorite thing to do is to watch Kai fall asleep. Sometimes I will lay down with him and watch as he slowly succumbs to the warmth of the bed. His baby fingers wrapped around mine, his little chest rising and falling. Eventually I pick him up and place him in his crib at the foot of our bed. He rolls to his side and reaches one hand out, grabbing at nothing in particular. I take a last look at his round, caramel cheeks and long, curly eyelashes. So quiet, so serene, so at peace.