My mom has a real problem with some of the antics that we allow to go on around here — specifically the dangerous ones. I’m sure a lot of people would agree with her. But the boys love it so. They are real thrill seekers. And Braydon is right in there with them. When he throws them in the pool he throws them a bit… um… well, a bit HIGH. I know my mother would have been mortified (I am positive that she would have fled the scene immediately and hid in the house until someone went to fetch her with promises that it was all over). Mom, if you’re reading, just don’t scroll down — just go ahead and skip over the next four pictures. ;-0
So, yeah, Mom, if you’re reading this, just go ahead and skip over this post (for the same reasons mentioned in the previous post). So, anyway, we decided it would be fun to get out the boys’ old baby slide to use as a pool-side-slide (o.k., I admit, it was me who came up with this idea). Owen and I found it in the attic. He was thrilled with the concept right from the start. The boys got a big kick out of sliding down it into the pool. They did this over and over and over…
Until… they came up with the bright idea (o.k., I admit, it was me who came up with this idea too) to turn it around backward… and use it not as a slide, but as a high dive. Kyle went first, of course:
Then Owen:
Over the course of the rest of the afternoon they did this about a million times… each. They are really good at high diving. ;-0
Over the course of the rest of the afternoon they did this about a million times… each. They are really good at high diving. ;-0
This photo has nothing to do with the quote of the day, except that this photo shows one of the many wonderful aspects of Kyle that make him one of my best friends in the whole wide world: his expressiveness for his love of life. If you click on the photo you can see it larger to get a sense of the expression on his face. He was riding his scooter in our driveway, at the end of a long day, in the pouring rain, and he was just loving life. Being around Kyle is like being with someone who’s emotions are transparent. He’s just right there, right at the surface, almost all the time. It is one of the things that make him so easy to love. Anyway… the quote of the day is from Kyle~~ This evening the four of us were driving in the car to a Housewarming Party for Alex and her roommate Esther (they recently moved into a new house). We were talking about who would be at the party, etc. To Kyle and Owen I said, “Boys, who is Alex’s best friend?” They both said, “Esther!!!” I said, “Yes! That’s right!” Then I asked them, “Who is your best friend?” Without any hesitation, Kyle immediately said: “Mama and Papi.” Braydon and I thought we were going to die of love for this child. (Note: Owen said his best friend was “Ta-vik-a” — click here, and then shortly after Kyle changed his mind and said his best friend was “Ta-vik-a” too. ?!)
So, as you can see our blog has a new look! I suddenly felt that we needed a face-lift. We’re in emotional upheaval right now given our past week… and we’re also on the verge of the start-of-the-new-academic-year (which, around here signals major moving and shaking). Lots is happening and lottsa lottsa lots will be happening over the next few weeks. As Kyle and Owen are fond of saying: “IT’S A BUMPY BUMPY RIDE!!!!” Hold on tight folks! And thanks for following along with us on our wild and crazy journey!
Cloudscome at Sandy Cove Trail has tagged me for an Anti-Racist Parent meme (click here for Cloudscome’s answers on her blog; click here for Carmen’s answer’s on the Anti-Racist Parent Blog).
I’ve been tagged for memes a few times but, with the exception of two previous occasions, I haven’t actually done them (I know, I know, I’m a bad bad blogger girl!)… But I love doing them, so don’t stop tagging me my blogger friends! This is my second meme that I’ve done from Cloudscome — click here for my first. For the only other meme I’ve done, click here.
Anti-Racist Parent Meme
1. I am: Swedish. Almost 100% Swedish. Both of my parents are Swedish. Both sides of the family are Swedish. Almost all of my grandparents and great-grandparents are/were first or second generation Swedish. For more details I’d need to ask my parents. Ethnically, growing up, we were very, very Swedish… specifically Swedish Lutheran. On both sides of the family they were all very, very Swedish Lutheran. In terms of race, I think of myself as white and incredibly racially privileged.
2. My kids are: Haitian-American. Kyle and Owen, age 3, twins. I usually don’t think of them as “African American,” although I’m consciously aware that many (if not most) people do. I think of them as Haitian or Haitian-American or Caribbean-American or Afro-Caribbean-American. In terms of race, I think of them as black… or again, Haitian or Haitian-American or Afro-Caribbean-American. Ethnically, I think of them as Haitian, but it is complicated because we adopted them at age 8 months, so everything they are learning about their ethnicity (right now at least) is heavily influenced (if not entirely controlled) but us. When people ask me “Where are they from?” I proudly answer, “Haiti!” (My response to the worst version of that question: “What are they???” is always the same: I tilt my head to the side, squint my eyes to look confused, and say with a tone of fake sincerity, “What do you mean???”) Kyle and Owen know that they were born in Haiti and now they are beginning to proudly say “Haiti!” if they hear people ask where they are from.
3. I first started thinking more about race, culture, and identity when: Honestly, in all all all honesty, I cannot remember a time that I wasn’t thinking about race, culture, and identity. I get asked a lot by my students why I think this is (that I started thinking about it so early on in my life). I truly don’t know why it is. I have some ideas– my parents were very progressive, I was raised in a semi-cooperative-communal sort of ‘campy’ environment, I was exposed to some racial diversity and multicultural philosophies early in life, etc… but really there is not a good answer for why it is that I’ve been so pre-occupied with it my entire life. In college I majored in sociology and focused heavily on, amongst some other things, the sociology race, culture, and identity. Then I went on to get a PhD in sociology focusing on — in layman’s terms — the same general areas. Now I’m a university professor trying to teach and write about this stuff. And, like everyone else in the world, I’m currently living this stuff too.
4. People think my name is: Heather. And they are right. The only thing people get confused about is my last name. My legal last name is Johnson. And that is my official “author” name (the name I publish with in my professional/scholarly work). I started publishing before I got married and long before K & O were on the scene. When we got married, I stuck with “Johnson,” but Braydon officially changed his name to “Johnson-McCormick” and began using that name professionally as well as socially. Then Kyle and Owen joined us and we became a family. K & O’s last name is “Johnson-McCormick.” So now, in order for it to be as clear and simple as possible for K & O, I use “Johnson-McCormick” as my last name in every sphere of life except for my publishing/professional life. Right now the boys have no comprehension that I am an author — let alone that I use “Johnson” in the publishing world but “Johnson-McCormick” in the rest of the world.
5. The family tradition I most want to pass on is: I can’t limit it to one. I had a wonderful childhood and have amazing parents who instilled strong traditions. I’ll do my best by limiting it to my top three: 1) Lots of “I love you’s” each and every day. 2) Tucking my kids in at night until they are too old to tolerate it any longer — whatever age that is, but I’m shooting for that tradition ending when, and only when, they start sleeping w/ someone in their bed who is not a family member… and they want that person, instead of me, to be the one to “tuck them in.” 3) Eating dinner together almost every night and talking, as a family, around the dinner table.
6. The family tradition I least want to pass on is: sibling-relationship-angst.
7. My child’s first word in English was: Kyle: mama Owen: kitty
8. My child’s first non-English word was: K & O were 8 months old when we adopted them so they were not speaking yet. But they were hearing Creole, and only Creole, for their first 8 months. They didn’t understand the word “no” with an English/American accent… but we quickly realized that they fully understood the word “no” if we said it firmly with a Creole accent.
9. The non-English word/phrase most used in my home is: “Vamanos Amigos!!!”
10. One thing I love about being a parent is: watching my boys eat — with gusto — something that they love that I made. Nothing gives this mom greater satisfaction!
11. One thing I hate about being a parent is: feeling responsible for the grind of getting three whole healthy balanced meals on the table each and every day.
12. To me, being an anti-racist parent means: being as conscious and cognizant as possible of racism, constantly. And teaching my children everything I possibly can about racism, every single step of the way. My goal at this point is to: 1) instill in my children as much self-confidence as humanly possible, and 2) help them to understand that it is the world that is crazy, not them. As we proceed, my goal is for our family and home to be a steady compassionate oasis in the world for my two beautiful black boys.
I am tagging: Every blogger reading this who considers themselves to be an Anti-Racist Parent. You know who you are. Leave a comment here so that I will know when you’ve completed this meme.
Today Alex and Esther took Kyle and Owen to Dorney Park (click here). If you read this blog you know that Alex is the boys’ babysitter/nanny. She’s caring for them 30+ hours per week this summer while they are out of daycare. She’s the best. Esther is a graduate student at Lehigh, she is Alex’s roommate and very close friend. Esther spends a lot of time with K & O when they’re with Alex, and they know her well. Today it was super hot here (high 90s, and humid). Alex thought it would be fun to take the boys to Dorney and she convinced Esther to go with them. The four of them had a fun and special day together. I think they spent almost the entire time in the “Wildwater Kingdom” part. The boys clearly had a blast. They were totally exhausted when they got home. They had a quick swim, ate supper, and were sound asleep just a bit past 7:00. Today Alex took our camera with them. In the photos Alex has on brown sunglasses; Esther has white sunglasses; Kyle is wearing a blue swimsuit; Owen is wearing a red swimsuit. I love it that my boys have Alex and Esther in their lives.
(note: click on this photo to enlarge — Owen literally has stars in his eyes!!!)
Alex and the boys — the best nanny ever!This morning K & O were playing with their baby dolls (their current favorite thing to do). This time they were in the playroom holding their babies’ faces upward toward the light that hangs from the ceiling. They were pretending that the “ceiling is the sky!” and the “light is the sun!” They were both looking up, squinting their own eyes, and holding their babies’ faces directly upward toward the light. They were being super dramatic saying, “ooohh!! baby! baby! don’t look right at the sun baby! it will hurt your eyes baby! you will be BLIND baby!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Then they’d dramatically fall to the ground, kicking and bucking, holding their babies to their chests, screaming, pretending that they were all blinded by looking too directly at the sun. ????!!??? They are both rolling around on the floor, dramatically clutching their babies, screaming about being “BLIND!!!!!!!!” Suddenly Owen comes to a complete stop. He sits up. He holds his baby’s head to his neck, soothingly rubbing the baby’s head, cooing and gently looking down at his precious baby doll. Then, very exaggeratedly cheerily and happily-chipperly he says to his baby: “It’s o.k. baby! It’s o.k. Douglas James! It’s o.k.! You’re just blind!”
The reason for my blogging break was the death of one of my best friend’s husband. In high school Robin and I were BFF (for those of you under 30: BFF = Best Friends Forever). We remain dear, dear friends to this day. She is one of the very best kinds of friends — one who you feel connected to even when you’re miles and years apart. I’m being sincere when I say this: Twelve years ago, when she met the love of her life, and then seven years ago, when she married him, nothing could have made me happier. Nothing. To be the Maid of Honor in their wedding was one of the proudest moments of my life. I adored Joe. Absolutely adored him. For her I adored him. And I also just simply adored him. So did Braydon. When I got home from work on Thursday, and heard the voice mail message from Robin’s sister, telling me that Joe had been killed in a motorcycle accident on Wednesday night, I could not have possibly felt more stunned. Joe is larger than life. Robin is deep in my heart. Their two young children are two of the sweetest, most precious kids you can imagine. The thought of Robin and her babies losing Joe is still almost too much to bear. I simply cannot fathom what she is going through. (click here) We had to drive to New Hampshire, a 10+ hour trip if you consider twin three year old boys strapped into the backseat. We decided the only way to manage it was to break it up by doing an overnight on the way there. We turned it into an impromptu mini-vacation in Providence, Rhode Island. It made us feel good to do something that Robin and Joe would strongly approve of: focus on the love and joy of our little family. We let ourselves enjoy it. We took it easy. We took a ton of photos. We took the life we’re living and made the best of it. We took lessons from Robin and Joe and immediately put them into action. The four of us hugged and said “I love you” a lot. It felt right. Sunday we dropped Kyle and Owen off with my parents for a couple of days, and we went straight to Robin. There is nothing like running to hold one of your very best friends in mourning. There is nothing like trying to do the impossible: absorb some pain from your grief-stricken friend. Anyone who’s ever had to do it knows what I mean. We did the best we could. But nothing is good enough. The funeral was Monday morning. We spent the rest of the day at Robin’s house with about 200 other people. For most of the afternoon, off to the side, were five of us, a tight group of best friends from high school: Jamie, Jody, Kerry, Robin, and I. It was surreal. To say the least. It was not the reunion I had imagined. To have to leave Robin on Monday night was very, very hard. We spent that night at my parent’s house. Then made an 11 hour drive straight back to Pennsylvania on Tuesday. We got home at 9:15pm last night. It was hot and dark and the sky was full of stars. Our little family of four ran to the pool, stripped down, and went skinny dipping in the moonlight. It was magical for the boys. It was heavy with mixed emotions for Braydon and I. I’m self-conscious writing about all this here because it seems too sacred to put on a blog. And Robin is a regular blog reader, so I’m conscious of wanting to only honor her in what I write. But I wanted to be sure to be honest with people — because sometimes we need to take a break from “regular” life for all the wrong reasons. Life is too complicated to blog about sometimes. I am back again, blogging again, but nothing is the same for us here. And that is not a bad thing. Hopefully things will never entirely go back to “normal” again. Life has pivotal moments. This was one of them for us. What we have seen is our dear friend Robin be full of grace and gratefulness through the most devastating loss imaginable. It is almost unimaginable. But in the shadow of humility, watching your friend go through this, the unimaginable is the least that we can expect of ourselves when we have nothing but that for which to be grateful. Thanks for reading. Love to you all across the blogosphere, Heather
There is nothing our family loves more than to travel together, explore together, adventure together. Even though our trip to Providence was short (Saturday afternoon, Saturday night, Sunday morning), and even though it was for all the wrong reasons (our dear friend Joe’s sudden death), it was exactly the kind of experience that we so enjoy. And it was exactly the kind of experience that Joe would have wanted for our family: fun, love, and family bonding. We are committed to do as much of this as possible. And to never ever take one single second of our precious time together for granted.
Providence September 11th Memorial9-11 is especially poignant for Braydon and I since we got married on 9-15-01, just four days after. Robin and Joe were in our wedding. I was the Maid of Honor in theirs July 29, 2000. There was something about watching Kyle and Owen look at this memorial… it just felt… deeply touching in some way.
Kyle & Owen’s First Room ServiceThey had awesome home-made macoroni and cheese and milk.
They loved it.
Kyle Being Educated On The Rhode Island Capital Building(see post below)
Providence’s Waterfire
Asleep in a Luxurious Hotel BedOwen on left, Kyle on right
We cannot get over how incredibly sweet it is how they cuddle up whenever they sleep together
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