Brothers and Sisters
Davis and Faith pray for an older sibling. It is a side-effect of adoption that they are aware that you can build your family in a different order than those who go the traditional route. I tell them that we don't have that plan yet, but to keep praying because I would never say never. Never.
Here is one from the vault that celebrates our little brother/sisters team. A few of the photos in this slideshow illustrate the collective personality of our threesome and how well they bonded from the start of being in that number:
Friends from Leslie Bullington on Vimeo.
Wednesday, October 8, 2014
Tuesday, October 7, 2014
Day 6 of Writing on Heritage
Photo Essay
I was going to try to skip today's writing by finding a bunch of cute photos of the kids and throwing them on here as my heritage post-of-the-day. There is a nice stretchiness to this word that I thought I could (and may yet) expand to cover our everyday life. But when I was looking back over the last few years in pictures I stopped on this and wanted to think about it a minute.
This is a photo of the civil office where we signed our paperwork for Pearl. She was getting her footprint taken - tiny, in red ink- for some document. This photo seems to mark a passage in more ways than one.
I had more words for this, but I think they are mostly written. In the ancient landscape behind. In the two of us bending over Pearl. Caring for her together for a moment.
This is a photo of the civil office where we signed our paperwork for Pearl. She was getting her footprint taken - tiny, in red ink- for some document. This photo seems to mark a passage in more ways than one.
I had more words for this, but I think they are mostly written. In the ancient landscape behind. In the two of us bending over Pearl. Caring for her together for a moment.
Sunday, October 5, 2014
Day 5 of Writing on Heritage
Caublinasian
I remember when Tiger Woods made up this word - a hybrid of Caucasian, Black, Indian, and Asian to describe his heritage and there was a national. . .discussion. I can't recall much about the details of the controversy, but I think it may have been one of those situations where some people saw denial, some people saw confusion, and some people saw no-big-deal-why-are-we-talking-about-this. I probably fell into the third group at the time. The conversation didn't resonate with me much.
Today I find this word useful. I sometimes say I have a Caublinasian family, though the only Indian part of us (that we know of) is just a trace of American Indian that comes from a some-number-of-greats (three, I think) grandmother on my mother's side.
Typically people get their racial identity from their ancestors, but I feel I have received mine in part from my descendants. A reverse inheritance? I wonder if it is as controversial for me to claim their race as my own as it was for Tiger Woods to want to include more than the world could know about him in his self-identification. My claim might give worse offense, since my inclusion has nothing at all to do with my actual bloodline. Or it might give no offense, because I am not quite as famous.
It was very surprising to me how different the world felt after I had a child of another race. I always thought I had a good understanding about the issues surrounding racism and prejudice, but that understanding did not run as deep into my heart as it does now. I did not hurt as I should have before for the major and minor injustices still being perpetrated. I didn't feel sick over these things like I do. Today.
It shouldn't have taken adoption to give me a tender heart. It shouldn't have taken watching the news and fear for my own son to wake me up to the danger that so many mother's sons face in the world. There are a few ways I use the word "we" now. And we have a ways to go.
I remember when Tiger Woods made up this word - a hybrid of Caucasian, Black, Indian, and Asian to describe his heritage and there was a national. . .discussion. I can't recall much about the details of the controversy, but I think it may have been one of those situations where some people saw denial, some people saw confusion, and some people saw no-big-deal-why-are-we-talking-about-this. I probably fell into the third group at the time. The conversation didn't resonate with me much.
Today I find this word useful. I sometimes say I have a Caublinasian family, though the only Indian part of us (that we know of) is just a trace of American Indian that comes from a some-number-of-greats (three, I think) grandmother on my mother's side.
Typically people get their racial identity from their ancestors, but I feel I have received mine in part from my descendants. A reverse inheritance? I wonder if it is as controversial for me to claim their race as my own as it was for Tiger Woods to want to include more than the world could know about him in his self-identification. My claim might give worse offense, since my inclusion has nothing at all to do with my actual bloodline. Or it might give no offense, because I am not quite as famous.
It was very surprising to me how different the world felt after I had a child of another race. I always thought I had a good understanding about the issues surrounding racism and prejudice, but that understanding did not run as deep into my heart as it does now. I did not hurt as I should have before for the major and minor injustices still being perpetrated. I didn't feel sick over these things like I do. Today.
It shouldn't have taken adoption to give me a tender heart. It shouldn't have taken watching the news and fear for my own son to wake me up to the danger that so many mother's sons face in the world. There are a few ways I use the word "we" now. And we have a ways to go.
Saturday, October 4, 2014
Day 4 of Writing on Heritage
Good Hair
A few years ago we were going somewhere in the car and Davis asked me when his hair would be like Faith's and Pearl's.
Wow. Here it is. The moment when Davis has the sense that he is not alright. That he does not fit in our family. This is sad, but I am so ready for it! I affirm the beauty of his gorgeous curls, brown eyes, brown skin. I talk for a while about how even though we have differences there is more that is the same. I talk.
And Davis listens.
And then he speaks again. "But when am I going have pigtails." And he said a few more things I don't remember that told me that this was not that moment. This was not that conversation.
And that conversation has not come in that way yet, but we have spoken a lot about race. I try to stay ahead of my children's questions in case they are wondering about things for which they don't have words.
But not that far ahead.
There are some books that we have read together that have helped. This one is one that we have.
There are a bunch of other good books and resources for kids about adoption listed here.
A few years ago we were going somewhere in the car and Davis asked me when his hair would be like Faith's and Pearl's.
Wow. Here it is. The moment when Davis has the sense that he is not alright. That he does not fit in our family. This is sad, but I am so ready for it! I affirm the beauty of his gorgeous curls, brown eyes, brown skin. I talk for a while about how even though we have differences there is more that is the same. I talk.
And Davis listens.
And then he speaks again. "But when am I going have pigtails." And he said a few more things I don't remember that told me that this was not that moment. This was not that conversation.
And that conversation has not come in that way yet, but we have spoken a lot about race. I try to stay ahead of my children's questions in case they are wondering about things for which they don't have words.
But not that far ahead.
There are some books that we have read together that have helped. This one is one that we have.
There are a bunch of other good books and resources for kids about adoption listed here.
Friday, October 3, 2014
Day 3 of Writing on Heritage
Love Makes a Family
Permission to love is one of the greatest gifts of family. This may not be the most romantic language, but the vows we take as marrying couples establish a set of permissions - each promises to allow the other to be the one who loves, honors, obeys, comforts in sickness, to be the companion through all the circumstances of life. Sacred permissions. Responsibilities are also rights.
Same goes for parents and children, even though the permissions are born with the child instead of in ceremony. Most of the time. We had ceremonies! On three continents! And through these we gained all new permissions! Rights! Responsibilities!
We were strangers and now we had all these claims on each other. Beautiful claims.
Pearl was so sad when we first held her. The information we received on her before we met her said that she was afraid of strangers, and that held true for her. I was so sad for her and prepared myself to patiently wait out the days (weeks?) while she slowly warmed up to us.
It took about 24 hours. This 11-month-old baby girl who had never been able to claim anyone as hers took one day to settle herself into our arms and us into her heart. In one day she made the distinction between us - family - and everyone else. She was her whole sweet affectionate self with us. She had only tears for anyone else who as much as looked at her.
It was astounding to me that she had this enormous capacity to love that she so freely gave to us so quickly. It was obvious that she had had all of this affection that she was just waiting to share with her family.
I know it does not always happen like this - that there is often a longer time needed for a child to learn to trust, and those for whom affection comes too easily and is a sign of other difficulties - but there are so many like Pearlie. So many with a healthy desire for connection just waiting for someone to extend to them the permission to love.
The good news of the gospel is that we have the right to love God. Not only the right - we are commanded to love Him. All of us were created with this capacity to worship, to love, to adore. Originally we were in sacred relationship with Him. We lost permission to the relationship through our disobedience, but He sacrificed to restore this. To give us an inheritance through Christ. To permit us to love Him and be loved by Him. To claim us as His.
Permission to love is one of the greatest gifts of family. This may not be the most romantic language, but the vows we take as marrying couples establish a set of permissions - each promises to allow the other to be the one who loves, honors, obeys, comforts in sickness, to be the companion through all the circumstances of life. Sacred permissions. Responsibilities are also rights.
Same goes for parents and children, even though the permissions are born with the child instead of in ceremony. Most of the time. We had ceremonies! On three continents! And through these we gained all new permissions! Rights! Responsibilities!
We were strangers and now we had all these claims on each other. Beautiful claims.
Pearl was so sad when we first held her. The information we received on her before we met her said that she was afraid of strangers, and that held true for her. I was so sad for her and prepared myself to patiently wait out the days (weeks?) while she slowly warmed up to us.
It took about 24 hours. This 11-month-old baby girl who had never been able to claim anyone as hers took one day to settle herself into our arms and us into her heart. In one day she made the distinction between us - family - and everyone else. She was her whole sweet affectionate self with us. She had only tears for anyone else who as much as looked at her.
It was astounding to me that she had this enormous capacity to love that she so freely gave to us so quickly. It was obvious that she had had all of this affection that she was just waiting to share with her family.
I know it does not always happen like this - that there is often a longer time needed for a child to learn to trust, and those for whom affection comes too easily and is a sign of other difficulties - but there are so many like Pearlie. So many with a healthy desire for connection just waiting for someone to extend to them the permission to love.
The good news of the gospel is that we have the right to love God. Not only the right - we are commanded to love Him. All of us were created with this capacity to worship, to love, to adore. Originally we were in sacred relationship with Him. We lost permission to the relationship through our disobedience, but He sacrificed to restore this. To give us an inheritance through Christ. To permit us to love Him and be loved by Him. To claim us as His.
Thursday, October 2, 2014
Day 2 of Writing on Heritage
Who Do You Think You Are?
I haven't seen a full episode of the TV show with this name, but I've seen enough to be bothered by it - this title, the suggestion by this program that you find a form of identity through ancestry. Shouldn't it at least be "Who Do You Think They Were?" (I know, not as cute.) I do appreciate genealogy. I am just not sure what importance should be placed on knowledge gained from it. Definitely not enough importance to be the answer of the question of who you really are.
But maybe this is the hypersensitive rant of someone whose reality as a parent is sometimes questioned.
Where are his real parents?
But what is her real name? (yes, oddly that)
I used to think parents who fretted over family tree assignments for their kids who came to their family through adoption at a very young age were over-complicating things. Adoption grafts our kids right into our family tree, right? No problem. Fill in the boxes, done. I would still handle the situation like that for us, but I do have a greater appreciation for the thoughts and feelings that some bring to any representation of family that doesn't tell the whole story. I can understand why some might think it dishonest not to admit that our family tree does have connections that don't fit the typical diagram. Dishonest or disrespectful. Or ungrateful.
How do I clarify this for myself and my children? This generation on our family tree is like the canopy of the rain forest - twisted and tangled together with other families, nations, people groups?
Twisted together, but not really one. Rooted in different places.
Everyone's family history is full of surprises - I guess Who Do You Think You Are shows that? Sometimes it takes generations for mysteries to develop. Sometimes they develop in an instant.
How do I practice good stewardship of our family story? How do I avoid oversimplifying or overemphasizing any one part? Above all I want to continually remind myself and my children of the truth. That the really real, complete story has room for all of this. All the hard and the beautiful. That there is an Author of Everything who is bringing a new people group together, a new kingdom, a new family.
A new heritage for all who will receive it.
I haven't seen a full episode of the TV show with this name, but I've seen enough to be bothered by it - this title, the suggestion by this program that you find a form of identity through ancestry. Shouldn't it at least be "Who Do You Think They Were?" (I know, not as cute.) I do appreciate genealogy. I am just not sure what importance should be placed on knowledge gained from it. Definitely not enough importance to be the answer of the question of who you really are.
But maybe this is the hypersensitive rant of someone whose reality as a parent is sometimes questioned.
Where are his real parents?
But what is her real name? (yes, oddly that)
I used to think parents who fretted over family tree assignments for their kids who came to their family through adoption at a very young age were over-complicating things. Adoption grafts our kids right into our family tree, right? No problem. Fill in the boxes, done. I would still handle the situation like that for us, but I do have a greater appreciation for the thoughts and feelings that some bring to any representation of family that doesn't tell the whole story. I can understand why some might think it dishonest not to admit that our family tree does have connections that don't fit the typical diagram. Dishonest or disrespectful. Or ungrateful.
How do I clarify this for myself and my children? This generation on our family tree is like the canopy of the rain forest - twisted and tangled together with other families, nations, people groups?
Twisted together, but not really one. Rooted in different places.
Everyone's family history is full of surprises - I guess Who Do You Think You Are shows that? Sometimes it takes generations for mysteries to develop. Sometimes they develop in an instant.
How do I practice good stewardship of our family story? How do I avoid oversimplifying or overemphasizing any one part? Above all I want to continually remind myself and my children of the truth. That the really real, complete story has room for all of this. All the hard and the beautiful. That there is an Author of Everything who is bringing a new people group together, a new kingdom, a new family.
A new heritage for all who will receive it.
31 Days of Writing on Heritage
Scroll down for Day 1.
Day 2 Who Do You Think You Are?
Day 3 Love Makes a Family
Day 4 Good Hair
Day 5 Caublinasian
Day 6 Photo Essay
Day 7 Brothers and Sisters
Day 8 Closure
Day 9 Good Reads
Day 10 Inside Jokes
Day 11 Together for Adoption
Day 12 Heritage Begins at Home
Day 13 Posted, Painted, and Propped
I sort of quit blogging. I didn't intend to leave the Bullington Board behind, but there have been so many reasons not to take time to write here. Some of those reasons were practical - those two years where Pearl didn't sleep, for example - and some of the reasons had to do with my super slow mental processing speed (remember the time when I wrote about our Ethiopia adoption trip a FULL YEAR after it happened?) It also seemed like this blog lost its purpose when we no longer had a need to inform people about our steps along the adoption journey(s?) for Davis and Pearl. But I have been looking for a way back to the blog, so here it is.
My sister told me about the Nester's 31 day writing project a few days ago. I loved this idea, but I didn't know what subject I would cover or how I would ever have time to write. Then there was a conversation in the car this morning about animal topiary trees. (No, I am not going to write about topiary trees - though that would be awesome!) Davis has asked me many times lately about what type of bushes he would need if he were going to cut them into animal shapes. This morning he was on this again, and he told me that if he made animal bushes for our yard, he would make a dragon for Pearl since dragons "mostly come from China" and a giraffe for himself, for Ethiopia. It reminded me how much I find myself considering issues surrounding identity, culture, race, and family. Heritage. I often think better by reading (links!) and writing through things, so I am looking forward to spending some time (maybe not 31 times, and maybe not actually on time since this is a late start, but aren't goals great?!) writing on heritage and pinning my notes to the Bullington Board.
Day 2 Who Do You Think You Are?
Day 3 Love Makes a Family
Day 4 Good Hair
Day 5 Caublinasian
Day 6 Photo Essay
Day 7 Brothers and Sisters
Day 8 Closure
Day 9 Good Reads
Day 10 Inside Jokes
Day 11 Together for Adoption
Day 12 Heritage Begins at Home
Day 13 Posted, Painted, and Propped
I sort of quit blogging. I didn't intend to leave the Bullington Board behind, but there have been so many reasons not to take time to write here. Some of those reasons were practical - those two years where Pearl didn't sleep, for example - and some of the reasons had to do with my super slow mental processing speed (remember the time when I wrote about our Ethiopia adoption trip a FULL YEAR after it happened?) It also seemed like this blog lost its purpose when we no longer had a need to inform people about our steps along the adoption journey(s?) for Davis and Pearl. But I have been looking for a way back to the blog, so here it is.
My sister told me about the Nester's 31 day writing project a few days ago. I loved this idea, but I didn't know what subject I would cover or how I would ever have time to write. Then there was a conversation in the car this morning about animal topiary trees. (No, I am not going to write about topiary trees - though that would be awesome!) Davis has asked me many times lately about what type of bushes he would need if he were going to cut them into animal shapes. This morning he was on this again, and he told me that if he made animal bushes for our yard, he would make a dragon for Pearl since dragons "mostly come from China" and a giraffe for himself, for Ethiopia. It reminded me how much I find myself considering issues surrounding identity, culture, race, and family. Heritage. I often think better by reading (links!) and writing through things, so I am looking forward to spending some time (maybe not 31 times, and maybe not actually on time since this is a late start, but aren't goals great?!) writing on heritage and pinning my notes to the Bullington Board.
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