The Stars Were all in Alignment

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Originally uploaded by nibbuccms.

When....when will all five kids be dressed in clean clothes, with their hair lookin' so perdy again? The next time might be a long time from now, so I though I'd better capture the moment. For posterity...

One of these things is not like the Other

What's it like being a part of a transracial family? From the inside looking out, we see nothing different about our family from other families we encounter on a daily basis. We do the same things: we love and care for our children equally, regardless of color. They misbehave? We redirect. They accomplish something? We're proud of them. On the inside looking out, we're the same.

From the outside looking in, we are much like the picture above. WE ARE different. We no longer look like everyone else. Our family is the spectacle, much like the squirrel is the focal point in the picture above.

The ramifications are not subtle. We've given up our ability to blend into the crowd. Anonimity? Forget it. People know US, but we have no idea who they are. In a sense, we have celebrity status, and as you know, people have differing viewpoints about celebrities. The can be loved and admired, or hated and despised.

We've come to terms with leaving the majority and becoming a member of a minority group. It's who we are. Hopefully we're here on this earth not to be judged, but to be a role model for others. I know we make an impact on a daily basis. Today....I'm going to put one in the "For" column, and hope that in the end, the "Against" column will be a barren wasteland, where all the tally marks of the early years become erasures...migrating little by little, mark by mark...towards equality.

What a Lovely Duet

My little LayniBug has finally discovered her musical side, which I knew was there since she was three. I'm not sure of the magical ingredient, maybe a very supportive music teacher in 5th grade who turned her onto playing the Recorder, but she practices quite a bit. I heard her upstairs last night before she went to bed playing Amazing Grace :)

 

As a child I used to spend hours and hours playing my recorder. I remember purchasing my wooden recorder from the music store with my own money....boy was I proud. (anyway...)

 

Today, another momentus occasion for her, I brought home her very first trumpet. This is the instrument she's elected to play in the band, simply because there's no need for any guitarist or recorder players...(is that what you call them?)

 

Those of you that know me will say, "why did you just let her use yours?" Are you all kidding? I have a Getzen Doc Severensen!! They don't make those anymore!

 

So..we played the trumpet for a while, and then in looking through one of the music books I bought her found that the recorder book had some recorder duets. We switched to our recorders, practiced for about 10 minutes and then threw down the track on the computer!!

 

Hope you enjoy our merriment!Click here to play our masterpiece..

Kindergarten..the Final 13 Days

Tonight was the Kindergarten program....where all the kindergarteners get the opportunity to wave to their parents from the stage.

We waved...until we started laughing, which was the direct cause of the shaky video. Our little Chatterbox...can she dance!!

Family Moments we Won't Forget

This weekend at the beach house we had one of those priceless moments...one just made for learning.. Take a look at the video we created from our experience.

If you're trying to view this video where YouTube is blocked, click here.

Let me Inform You

What's it like to have children that don't conform to society's expectations? Let me say that it's very hard. Not just on us as parents, but it affects every family member in some way. I've decided that sometimes, to let the pressure off the kids, people who are less understanding, need a little bit of understanding "help". Not all children are perfect.

Have you heard of Gardner's Multiple Intelligence Theory? He lists 7 different ways you can be gifted. But I think he'd might discover more ways of giftedness if he studied my five adopted children, on any given day. The trouble here is that the ways my children are "gifted" are not ways that society understands.

So...let me inform you. If you see my children out in public, and I hand you a card..accept it gracefully, read it...and internalize that my children are doing the very best they can.

The Bride of Frankenstein

Braids for my girls seem to be the bane of my existence these days. I know I should love them, since they prevent me from having to comb, condition and try and tame three girl's hair each and every morning, but I can't seem to get out of my no braid rut. Why? It all stems from a little bit of a substance that strikes fear in every mother of African American girls who get braids. WATER....

It all started with Chatterbox playing "beauty shop" one late summer evening. After all the lights were dimmed, she decided to get our hair box and make her self beautiful. What ensued was one 5 year old little girl with several rubber bands that were stuck in her hair, and rather than leave them in until morning, she thought she'd do me a favor and cut them out. She cut them out all right, right along with all her hair surrounding the rubber band, leaving little but a scant 3/4 inch of hair with which to work. She repeated this hair cutting fiasco several times, leaving me with a child that had no workable hairdo...and this was DAYS before she started Kindergarten. So much for being that cute little Chatterbox we all know and love. She was still the chatterbox, but cute???

In desperation, I decided to put braids in her hair...but the forces of nature were working against me. Saturday, when I got to the braid shop, they had no synthetic hair for use, but only real human hair. To put freestyle braids in her hair with human hair was going to cost me $170! Here were my choices...start kindergarten looking like a chemo patient? Or...pay $170?

Seven hours later, I emerged from the shop with my beautiful little Chatterbox, swinging her gorgeous locks from side to side. She was so excited to have hair down to the middle of her back. It was the first time she'd had braids this long (and this expensive)!

As I departed on Monday morning from the child care center at our gym, I cautioned Chatterbox as I had done about 100 times earlier that morning, "Chatterbox, don't under any condition, go swimming today. Do you understand?" I reiterated that same sentiment to the teenager doing childcare duty that morning, having great faith in Chatterbox, that even if her childcare provider broached the swimming pool with her, she'd be fine...she loved her brand new (expensive) locks. I went off to work without a worry. Kindergarten would be fine. Chatterbox was back to having hair which I could style and manage. All was right with the world......

....until I arrived to pick her up. What I saw when I looked at her, resembled that much abused Barbie doll at the bottom of the toy box; the one the girls practiced teasing with a comb, and the one the boys swung around by the hair. My beautiful Chatterbox had been replaced by....the Bride of Frankenstein.

What else was a mother to do but use her fingers as a wide tooth comb? I frantically attempted to smooth the tangled mess into submission, but what I received was a pile of discarded hair strewn about the floor at my feet, like an offering from the braid goddess of unsuspecting white mothers.

So, with all I could muster, I picked up the braids from the floor, while nonchalantly asking Chatterbox what had happened to her hair. "We went swimming, Mama! Are you mad?"

Poor Chatterbox. I'm sure what ensued as we drove home will be one of those times she'll remember as a grown up. It'll be something talked about during family gatherings...."Mom, remember the time you (traumatized me after you) spent $170 on braids and then I went swimming?"

What a poor white mama to do? Learn from the experience....get really good at twisting hair, and know that NEVER should you spend $170 on hair for a five year old.