I'm Just Assuming Here...

Today at the Commissary a woman came up to me and brightly said, "You home-school your children, don't you? I can tell; both my daughters home-school and all my grandchildren are home-schooled." I know why she said this: I speak intelligently to my children. I am a firm believer in using every moment to teach. Brendan is exceptionally curious. I don't know him well enough yet, so I don't know if it is just his nature or if it is his way of trying to have some control over his life--I suspect it might be a little of both. Nonetheless, I had been talking to Brendan about George Washington. I didn't mind that she assumed I home-schooled, what irked me was how her sunny demeanor changed when I responded, "No. I don't home-school." I felt like suddenly her impression of my parenting went straight from positive to negative when she learned that I (gasp!) send my children away to public school each day. It is a similar response that I receive when I am asked, "Where is he from?" and I respond, "Tampa." Not exactly the exotic location they were assuming, and suddenly my American-made boy isn't nearly as intriguing. I suddenly feel like judgement is headed our way. But, to be honest, you can't please me--the other day, a person actually said what I assume most people think and that both shocked and offended me. I said that Brendan never knew his birth mom (which isn't exactly true--really he was with her for 10 days, but I don't get into specifics with total strangers), and this person responded, "Oh, yes, they test positive for drugs, and the babies are taken right away."

I won't say that I am getting used to assumptions as much as I am trying to learn not be on the defensive. One of the most challenging aspects of being a transracial family for me is being looked at in public. We look different, and despite what many of you may think and some of said to me, in general, Americans really aren't as socially advanced as we may like to think. Let me remind you though, as I have said in other posts, this is still very fresh to me--adoption is a journey.

Even though I know my siblings would call me a bald-faced liar, I actually do not like attention. I like to know what is going on, I like to lead, I even like to delegate, but in fact, I actually dread attention. This particular characteristic of mine does not mesh well with transracial adoption. People are curious by nature--I am not ever offended by curiousity. It is the manner in which the curiousity is communicated that is really the issue. For instance, children are completely honest with their curiosity and carry no judgement. Brendan has been asked by children where his "real" Mommy and Daddy are and if he is adopted. Aidan and Cole Patrick have been asked numerous times--sometimes several times by the same child--if Brendan is their brother. Children are curious--they mean no harm, and I am always right there to help explain until Aidan, Cole Patrick and Bren learn what they are comfortable discussing and how to properly discuss it. Brendan has no clue what "adoption" is, and he doesn't know what "real" means yet--we will cross that bridge in time.

What does upset me is the assumptions. Every scenario is unique depending on who is with Bren, different assumptions for different situations. People assume I am babysitting, he is a foster child, my husband is black, he is adopted from Africa or that he is just adopted. Generally, people don't ask--we certainly get more stares than questions, so in actuality, I am merely assuming what they are assuming...! The irony of my situation is not lost on me.

I can't say that assumptions ever accomplish good--it usually just stirs up trouble. In reality though, we have a lifetime of assumptions ahead of us, no matter how smart, how cute, how talented Brendan is, I will always have to work harder to advocate for him than I will for Aidan and Cole Patrick. He is a black male who was adopted from foster care into a military family--there are so many assumptions to be made. God give me strength.

Brendan's Own Family

Perhaps I have mentioned it before, but I am not asked many questions. Perhaps people don't find me approachable (although I get asked for directions ALL the time), or maybe folks just aren't interested...either way, I am certainly not up on my correct adoption-speak answers.

This morning we started a new session of swim lessons. Bren has been doing fabulously at swim lessons; in fact, he may even be overconfident. He is bobbing under the water, hanging on the edge of the platform; generally, making the lifeguards nervous. He was getting a little too rambunctious today, so I called him out of the water to let him know it was time to take it down a notch...or twelve. As I told him to calm down and be careful, he stood straight up, looked me in the eyes and said, "Yes, Ma'am." When I sent him back to lessons, the other Moms were impressed with his immediate obedience, "How old is he? Wow! He handled that well."

Brendan at swim lessons

I explained that Brendan is pretty new to our family, and he responds very well to rules. I've always known that children thrive on boundaries, but Brendan is pretty much a case study. I can pretty confidently say that he lacked any boundaries before joining our family. I believe his foster family let him have his way to avoid conflict--they weren't invested. Our family runs on rules and routines, and luckily for all of us, Brendan is like me, he thrives on rules and routine. I explained to them that I believe children often equate boundaries to love and inclusion, and many adoptive children are ripe to embrace that. This seemed to open the gate to questions: "Do you have other children? Are they adopted? Did he take to you right away? When did he start calling you 'Mama'?" Then the question that just didn't sit right, mostly because I didn't answer it like I should have: "Did he live with his own family before you?" I should have corrected her or at the very least responded using the term "birth family," but alas, I am not yet seasoned. "No, he has never lived with his own family," I responded. UGH!! The minute I said it, I wanted to change it, but I couldn't eloquently explain it. We ARE his own family. Giving birth doesn't make you family--but that is so hard to explain in a casual conversation. Before adopting, I would have struggled to understand the complexity of it, too. He has embraced every house rule we have--often being the ambassador for our protocol--because he is a finally a part of something; he is part of a family...his own family.

He's THREE!

Biblically speaking, three is supposed to be perfect and divine. Three as an age...not so perfect and not at all divine. With Aidan and Cole Patrick, I remember wondering, why does the "Terrible Twos" have such a bad reputation, three is the real bear. Brendan isn't any different, and yet he really is. Developmentally, three is when children start to figure out they are independent of their parents, so can you imagine what it is like to just find your parents a few months shy of three. Brendan is walking a fine line between learning independence while bonding with his new family. Well, I am a slow learner, so I am just starting to understand.

Aidan and Cole Patrick are 22 months apart--I highly recommend this approach because you don't have time to forget. Brendan joined our family just a couple weeks before Cole Patrick's 8th Birthday--I was clearly no longer in the zone. It had been years since I had to wipe a nose, bottom or any other body part. Now, I will be perfectly honest here, this was harder than I thought, too. Adopting, in general, is a complex mixture of emotions--especially if you already have biological children. Bren did not spend nine months inside me bonding, and he didn't come to me smelling, sounding or looking familiar. It is more like one day we had two children and then, BAM...we have three. As a Mom, I had to adjust at Mach speed; a true test of Mom skills. In my case, I had to fake it until it did feel natural. For example, when Brendan needed wiped, I couldn't be like, "I'm really going to need to ease into this--can you just do it until I'm there?" Do not judge, folks, this is not as simple as it sounds. It is widely known in my family that I am easily grossed out--in fact, my older brother used this to his advantage for years in order to have more food at the dinner table. Not only did I have issues with wiping certain parts, but at first, I never ate after Brendan like I do my other two. I had to laugh the other day when I realized that I am over that. Just another mark of how far we've come.

 Eight and ten year olds are AMAZINGLY easy compared to three-year-olds...of course, I didn't fully realize that until I was thrown back into the preschool years. There is something to be said about being thrown back into the preschool years, without the three years to ease into it...whoa! It definitely has been a test of my character, and I have not always passed. So poor Brendan, not only is he three, but he has been thrust into a new family who also doesn't look, sound or smell familiar, and on top of that, his Mom can't figure it out!

I think, however, that I finally got it...he's three! I say it to Cole Patrick all day long: "Mom, Brendan touching my Lego guys!" "Dude, he's THREE!" I have spent hours reminding Cole Patrick of what he was like at three. But now, I think maybe I have finally figured it out. Last week, Aidan, Cole Patrick and Brendan were signed up for British Soccer Camp. I thought, "This is going to be awesome! Brendan is going to be amazing with his kicking ability and advanced coordination." (I have, however, mastered my parental bragging rights.) Except, it wasn't awesome because Brendan is three. After two mornings of watching Brendan NOT loving it, I pulled him out after 15 minutes of the third day. At first I was upset--what is wrong? I put him in the stroller and went for a long run. I thought about Aidan at three. Jason volunteered to coach her soccer team--I remember us totally dreading going to practices and games because it was pretty much like herding cats. Three-year-olds don't really like organized sports. Seven years later, Aidan can handle just about anything, so Brendan not being ready for British Soccer Camp isn't an indication of his future success. Plain and simply, he is three.

So, I think I have had a breakthrough. Now that I am starting to actually realize Brendan is three and not expecting 8 and 10-year-old behavior out of him, everything is making more sense. Funny how that works, huh? I am sure he is greatly relieved that Mom is starting to get it, too.