My first blog award! Thank you Leslie! Can you see me blushing through the blogosphere?!!!
Executive Chef: The executive chef is in charge of everything related to the kitchen, including menu creation, staff management and business aspects. The position requires extensive cooking experience and often involves actively cooking. They can also be referred to as the “chef” or even “head chef.” Although “head chef” may seem redundant, the word “chef” has come to be applied to any cook, kitchen helper or a fast food operator, making the distinction necessary.
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I am the Executive Chef around here. Executive Chef And Then Some. Once, back in the day, when we threw dinner parties on a weekly basis and had a constant streaming social life, we had a landlord in Boston who accused us of (and I quote) “running a hotel and a restaurant” out of our apartment. We weren’t — at least not officially. But our landlord was definitely onto something. These days I don’t so much feel like I’m running a hotel. But I feel like I’m running a restaurant now more than ever—- a one star, short order, fast and furious, catering to the toddler set kind of restaurant. This is not gourmet. This is nothing fancy. It is “family friendly” in the worst sense of the term. In my past life (i.e., Pre K & O) in preparation for cooking for others, I’d spend hours scouring my Silver Palate and Jacques Pipen cookbooks for fantastic menu and recipe ideas. Now, I rarely open a cookbook. But if I do crack one open it is Rachel Ray for a “30 Minute Meal.” I used to watch her Food Network show and think things like, “Gosh, why even bother cooking if you’re going to cook like that??!” Now if I catch a glimpse of her I think, “Gosh, can’t we make it a 20 Minute Meal?! Who has time for THIRTY minutes????????!”
Ok, seriously… is it normal for 3 year olds to eat this much? I sometimes feel like my primary job in life is simply keeping them fed. I know I’ve blogged about it before (I should probably just make it a whole blog post category called “FOOD”), but for the sake of our family history I feel the need to record this in detail. It is a primary aspect of K & O’s childhoods. Plus, someday when the boys are older and mouthing off to me I want to be able to show them who’s been keeping their big mouths fed all this time…
I swear every other day I’m saying to Braydon, “God help me! If they eat this much now, what on earth are they going to be eating when they’re sixteen?!” He just laughs like a proud father of a man. Yeah, he laughs. Just like all the other men who witness Kyle and Owen eating. That’s because he/they are not in charge of food around here. Women who witness it have a different reaction. They look at me with raised eyebrows, kinda like an unspoken female-to-female “I feel your pain sister.” To give Braydon his due credit– he’s in charge of laundry (which they create a lot of too, for sure), and cleaning (which they definitely keep him busy with), but me… my household job is FOOD. All things food. And it is a big job. I have a little family with a big appetite.
In an attempt to chronicle just how much my darling sons eat I decided to photograph a day of meals yesterday. I am not including snacks here — just actual meals. And you can’t tell from the photos how much or how often the two of them asked for second helpings of any given thing (or third helpings or fourths, fifths, etc.). Obviously this does not document my food production situation in detail. But it does at least give you an idea of what it is like around here.
Breakfast: Cereal (Kix and Cheerios mixed together — for whatever reason they’ve both always preferred multiple cereals mixed together in one bowl ~ My job is not to question, only to serve, so I just keep my nose to the grindstone and try do my job as best I can); bananas; OJ. We are currently going through 2 gallons of whole milk per week and 2 gallons of OJ per week and 2 big bunches of bananas per week. (Note: Braydon and I only drink skim milk, we rarely drink any OJ, and between the two of us we probably eat 2-3 bananas per week max).
Lunch: Whole grain bagel; strawberry cream cheese; deli turkey meat; cut up fresh tomatoes; grapes; apple juice to drink. When they eat turkey from the deli they’ll easily polish off 1/4 pound of it. They also can’t get enough fruit. At this particular lunch, for example, Kyle went through 4 helpings of grapes (Sweetly: “More grapes please Mama?!” Fake Cheerily: “O.k. Kyle!”) and 2 helpings of tomatoes.
Dinner: Rice pilaf; blackened tilapia; steamed green beans; “salad and dip” (“salad and dip” for K & O = salad minus the lettuce — i.e., all the cut up veggies — with some salad dressing on the side to dip the veggies in. The only exception to this is caesar salad at Carrabbas or the fuji apple chicken salad at Panara Bread… they’ll eat both of those lettuce and all.). To drink: water and “wine” (i.e., a Dora the Explorer cup with some watered down wine in it). When I was preparing this meal I was getting out that classic ol’ box of Near East Rice Pilaf and I actually thought to myself, “I should probably make two boxes of this.” And then I thought to myself, “No! That is ridiculous– they’re only 3 years old! I’m not making two boxes!!!” So I only made one box. Big mistake. Braydon and I only had small spoonfuls. The boys devoured the rest of it and would have had more if there was more to be had. Toward the end of dinner I said to Braydon, “God help me! If they eat this much now, what on earth are they going to be eating when they’re sixteen?!” He just laughed. Of course. I said, “No, seriously Braydon. I thought about making two boxes of rice pilaf but then didn’t. I should have! If I have to make two boxes of rice pilaf when they’re three, how many boxes will I need to make when they’re sixteen?” He said: “Three boxes. One for us. One for Kyle. And one for Owen.” Anyhoo… When we were in Virgin Gorda we discovered that Owen loves fresh blackened fish. He now requests that we get “fish” when we go to the grocery store. Go figure. Kyle now eats it too. And they love green beans. As you can see in the picture below, Kyle loves green beans so much he eats them double-fisted shoving them in one by one as fast as he can swallow. Oh, and after dinner they each had strawberry ice cream and whipped cream for dessert. Then each requested milk… and each guzzled down a large sippie cup full before heading off to bed… Thank heavens that at least they do sleep ~~~ that gives me a chance to rest… after all, it is only a matter of hours before breakfast begins another day of steady work for the Executive Chef.
Dinner: Rice pilaf; blackened tilapia; steamed green beans; “salad and dip” (“salad and dip” for K & O = salad minus the lettuce — i.e., all the cut up veggies — with some salad dressing on the side to dip the veggies in. The only exception to this is caesar salad at Carrabbas or the fuji apple chicken salad at Panara Bread… they’ll eat both of those lettuce and all.). To drink: water and “wine” (i.e., a Dora the Explorer cup with some watered down wine in it). When I was preparing this meal I was getting out that classic ol’ box of Near East Rice Pilaf and I actually thought to myself, “I should probably make two boxes of this.” And then I thought to myself, “No! That is ridiculous– they’re only 3 years old! I’m not making two boxes!!!” So I only made one box. Big mistake. Braydon and I only had small spoonfuls. The boys devoured the rest of it and would have had more if there was more to be had. Toward the end of dinner I said to Braydon, “God help me! If they eat this much now, what on earth are they going to be eating when they’re sixteen?!” He just laughed. Of course. I said, “No, seriously Braydon. I thought about making two boxes of rice pilaf but then didn’t. I should have! If I have to make two boxes of rice pilaf when they’re three, how many boxes will I need to make when they’re sixteen?” He said: “Three boxes. One for us. One for Kyle. And one for Owen.” Anyhoo… When we were in Virgin Gorda we discovered that Owen loves fresh blackened fish. He now requests that we get “fish” when we go to the grocery store. Go figure. Kyle now eats it too. And they love green beans. As you can see in the picture below, Kyle loves green beans so much he eats them double-fisted shoving them in one by one as fast as he can swallow. Oh, and after dinner they each had strawberry ice cream and whipped cream for dessert. Then each requested milk… and each guzzled down a large sippie cup full before heading off to bed… Thank heavens that at least they do sleep ~~~ that gives me a chance to rest… after all, it is only a matter of hours before breakfast begins another day of steady work for the Executive Chef.
I’ve been reading her blog for awhile now… and love it… here’s a post that helped me end my day today feeling significantly less misunderstood than I have the past few nights: click here. And sometime soon I’m also going to be posting about the awesome camp songs CD that this same Blogger Girlfriend of mine sent us too!
Alex, I know you’re on vacation but are you reading this while you’re away? Today I took K & O to their beloved “Castle Playground” in Doylestown (for those of you reading this who are unfamiliar, see photo above and click here). Alex, I know that you go there all the time with the boys, but I hadn’t been there with them for awhile. Today, Kyle went down the “big slide” (the huge spiral dark tunnel slide) all by himself over and over and over. Owen was still too scared to do it. But Kyle finally mustered up the courage — and he was all about that slide today. He was right in there with all the other 10 and 12 year olds (uh, yeh, I didn’t see any other three year olds anywhere in sight). Anyway, tonight after dinner he told me that he “wants to tell Alex” about how he “did the big slide today.” He wanted to call you on the phone but I wouldn’t let him because I wasn’t sure your cell phone would work all the way on the other side of the country. But I swear, it was one of the sweetest things ever… he really wants you to know that he did that slide today. We miss you and we (me especially!!!) can’t wait for you to be back on Thursday!!! Love, Heather (and Kyle)
Well, as a sociologist (a sociologist whose training and expertise is in the areas of: 1] race-class in the contemporary U.S., and 2] sociology of children and childhood) it is very hard for me to not be totally fascinated by some of the dynamics in my very own little family. I am committed to never writing a book about it. I am absolutely determined to never sociologically or professionally exploit my children. And I have promised myself to try my darndest to not let my sometimes-too-complex-thinking get in the way of the simple gut-level-basics of my parenting. However… at times it is almost impossible for me to not deeply ponder some of the stuff that is going on in my only tiny little universe because, really, it is all so totally sociologically fascinating. You’d have to have zero sociological imagination to not be at least a little bit intrigued. And my sociological imagination is definitely not in the zero category (actually, it is probably located quite firmly in the “overactive imagination” category). Long before K & O were ever on the scene I had read more than most human beings ever will about children and racial identity formation. Since Day One with K & O in our lives I have been really curious about(amongst many, many other things) when — exactly — they’ll start verbalizing their recognition of our family as an inter-racial unit. My assumption is that they’ve noticed for quite a long time now (if not since the start), but specifically, I’ve wondered when they’ll note — out loud — their awareness of our racial difference. When will they actually verbalize their recognition that we are an inter-racial family? Today, we were driving in the car. We were driving on the same road that we used to take to go to/from the boys’ daycare. We were talking about how “it is summer!” and that means “no daycare!!!” Then, suddenly, out of the blue, the following happened… (background note: there were two “Miss Jen’s” who worked at the daycare)…
Owen: “Mommy, do you remember the other Miss Jen at daycare? Do you remember?”
Heather: “Yes.”
O: “The other Miss Jen was black like me and my brother.”
H: “Yes Owen! She was!”
O: “Mommy, you are not black like me. You are not. You are different color skin. Your color is different than mine’s.”
H: “That’s right Owen!”
And we left it at that.
The other day I was in Target and I saw these penguin pool toys that I just knew K & O would love. On a whim I bought them each one. With Owen having been sick yesterday and still not 100% today (Braydon is going to post about that soon), today was purposefully a low-key day at home with no plans and no outings. I thought it would be the perfect day to bring out these little penguins. Seriously… NEVER have the boys been so enamored with any one toy. Ever. We were at the pool by 10:00 this morning, and other than taking time to eat lunch and nap the boys played with these penguins in the pool non-stop the entire day until 6:15 p.m. I have never seen anything capture their attention like these two penguins did today. The penguins were cheap — like $3 each or something — and they have battery operated propellers that make them swim underwater. Seriously, the boys adore them. All day today they played with “Black Penguin” (Owen’s) and “Red Penguin” (Kyle’s). Granted, Owen was not at full throttle today, but still… for two kids with an attention span of about 10-15 minutes MAX… the Day of the Penguins was quite something to witness.
We have an apple cart; a very beautiful, solid apple cart. Maybe it’s maple, maybe it’s oak. An apple cart a collector would love. An apple cart many people would love to have, but most will not. An apple cart people dream about. It’s our apple cart and we built it from scratch.
It took help from family and friends, and taking advantage of materials that came our way- both found and given. And when we had what we needed, we set our hands to build the best one we could. After many a splinter, bent nail and splashes of paint we got it into some reasonably good shape and ready to carry a load.
We’ve filled our cart with tremendous bounty of all types and where ever we go we try to share that bounty and be thankful for it. What we carry is live and thriving. It has a clean scent and a crisp sound like laundry on a windy line. It has substance and heft – like a sun-warmed river rock. It’s many things in many ways and has many meanings. It’s rich in spirit, in life and in love.
It can get heavy and it overflows sometimes, but we try to remember that most people don’t even have a cart, let alone a full one. We try to always be happy with our cart and what we put in it. Generally we do ok with that.
We try to remember to do regular upkeep on our cart. Occasionally we oil the wheels, and put some paint on the sides. We leave the handgrips untouched, they are worn, woody, and smooth. But they are warm to the touch and have a sense of trust and ease of being held.
Sometimes we forget to do the maintenance. When we’re running with a load, and sharing and giving, and filling and enjoying, sometimes we just forget. But we trust the hard work that went into building it, so we’re confident it’s still solid. Occasionally we give it a hard knock, but so far it just gives a sharp crack when you rap it with your knuckles – not a soft thump. Like a fresh, ripe apple.
There is another little thing about our apple cart though. Our apple cart’s on rails. Thin train track rails. Smooth rails. Strong rails. But it’s very hard to keep the cart on these rails all the time. We do a pretty good job of it, even in inclement weather, or up hill, or down hill. We focus together and keep it going. One person often guides while the other pushes, and then we switch places. But it really really takes both of us to keep it on the rails. Sometimes we feel we could use help – but there are only two handles and it’s hard to have more feet pushing forward.
You might ask why we put it on rails, when we could have it on stable ground. The answer is only that our path is on these rails and the stops to our destination are on these rails. Any other path and we would be who we are, nor would we be as fulfilled with life as we are. It’s just like that. For us, these rails are our rails.
And from time to time, our cart goes off the rails and the front wheel gets mired and stuck. It just happens. It happens to everyone in any circumstance of course, and it happens to us too. Contents in the cart shift dangerously, things tip precariously, and more contents in the cart fall off than usual. Sometimes it tips over completely and everything is dumped out. Sometimes it’s raining and everything gets muddy – the earth clinging in an attempt to reclaim what’s rightfully hers.
And in our case, because we are on our own rails, most of the time there is no one around to see it or help. We’re never sure if we should call out for help, and so we don’t. Maybe it’s the pride we’ve put into building the cart, I am not sure. And it doesn’t matter really, that’s the way we are.
So, after we make sure no bones are broken, we shake ourselves off, right the cart, and put everything and everyone back in. We then look around, find a branch to lever our cart back onto the rails and push forward. It can take 5 minutes, it can take 5 days. It has never yet taken 5 weeks. Let’s hope it never does, I feel deeply for people who take even longer, and some never get back on – for all kinds of reasons. Maybe they didn’t have help. Maybe their foundation was not strong enough. Maybe they didn’t have the strength. Maybe others wouldn’t let them.
We work so hard to keep our cart on the rails. And it’s completely worth it. The extra effort, the tired arms, legs and backs. It’s worth it and we’re glad we have a full cart and rails on which travel.
I do worry that we will get tired. I do worry that we will slip off and need some help, but we will be to far for that help to arrive. I do worry that we are too far from help now. Right now it is just a worry, but we see glimpses of it from time to time.
Although Owen was only sick for 36 hours, and the clinic visit only took a couple hours this time, there was something that really struck me. It was Heather, scrambling to check her email and put out a fire at work. It was the first time she had been able to work at all that day, and she had about 15 minutes in between Kyle going down for a nap, getting Owen down, and trying to get a shower, eat something, clean up and get ready for the next round of Sick Toddler.
I could see the stress and anxiety. Our babysitter was on vacation, I am flat out on work and we have twin three year olds. Work wouldn’t wait, but neither would Owen. Of course there’s not even a choice there – Owen comes first. But I could see the strain. The apple cart had slipped off and took a bounce. We caught it and got it back on the rails, but in that brief moment it made me worry about a blind trussel that could be around the corner.
It’s a beautiful, full apple cart, I treasure it and everything in it more than anything else and I want to make sure it’s safe for my family.
The boys love to pretend/play that they are “going to work!” Here is Kyle “checking his email!” and “having a meeting on the phone!”
Yesterday we went to Joy Lin’s 5th Birthday Party. We love Joy Lin. In my opinion (as a mother of two boys longing lately to add a little sister to the mix), Joy Lin’s the coolest kind of little girl there is: sweet and cute and considerate and also a rough and tumble tomboy at heart. Joy has almost as much energy as Kyle and Owen — so even though there is a two year age difference, the three of them get along brilliantly. The birthday party was at Bounce U (click here). We hadn’t been there before. It is a massive play space with tons and tons of huge blown up jumping/sliding/climbing/bouncing contraptions. The minute we walked in I said to our friends Lisa and Chris (Joy’s parents) “Is this a party for Joy Lin or for Kyle and Owen???!” (it was in indoor air-conditioned version of heaven for K & O). They loved it. In fact, Kyle said to me about halfway through, “Mama, I want mine birthday party to be at Bounce U when I will be five! I want mine birthday party to be right here!” There were a lot of kids at the birthday party, but at one point I found K, O, and Joy sliding together over and over and over down a little slide:
By far the boys’ favorite thing at Bounce U, though, was the “BIG HUGE SLIDE!!!” They seriously went down this thing at least 20 times in a row…
It looked … so fun! And it was!
After all the sliding and jumping and bouncing it was time for cake and ice cream. They brought out a big liter of Coke. All the kids were having it. We couldn’t bear to keep it from just our two. So… K & O had Coca Cola for the very first time!!! This is newsworthy stuff; Kyle liked it; but for Owen, especially, this was a big deal. He did not touch his cake or ice cream. He just savored that Coke. And then he sweet talked the Bounce U staff into giving him a second helping. In this photo he is holding his precious Coke and saying to us, “Here is my beer. It is just like beer. Just. Like. Beer.”
And here is Owen, about 30 minutes later in the car heading home, passed out from his “beer”/post-Coke-sugar-crash:
On the ride home Kyle talked on and on about how he wants his birthday party to be at Bounce U. He also talked at length about the fact that “inside his present will be a trombone.” He also wanted to be clear that “Joy Lin will be there at his birthday party.” Happy Birthday Joy Lin!
When they’re good they’re very, very good and when they’re bad they’re horrid. So far my biggest challenge as a mother has been keeping my cool in moments when I’m seriously mad/frustrated with my children. I know all kids test their parents’ patience. But I swear, Kyle and Owen are — in some ways — more challenging than most… because: #1) they are conspiring twins who just feed off of each other in good times and in bad, and #2) they each have more energy and physical brute strength than the average human being [let alone the average 3 year old] and TOGETHER their level of energy and physicality is enough to exhaust anyone’s capacities [just ask anyone who has ever had to care for them for more than a couple of hours]. These boys know how to push my buttons. They know how to work together to seriously piss me off. They know how to ramp up my blood pressure through the roof in zero seconds flat. But I’m a pretty laid back mother. In some bizarre way (not sure what this actually says about me…) I can totally get into the mindset of a three year old. I totally “get it” a lot of the time… so, all things considered, I am probably able laugh at their antics a lot more than most people would. There are things that these two do that make me really fuming angry. And things that they do that just make me laugh. Luckily for all of us we’re finally reaching a point now where differentiating between the two modes of misbehavior-and-mama-madness (“madness” as in fuming angry vs. “madness” as in flippin’ CRAZY) has gotten to be pretty simple. Yesterday I took it upon myself to try to consciously note in my own mind a couple of the things that occured in each of the two catergories.
Things That Made Me Really Fuming Angry Yesterday:
- K & O’s friend Ben Uhrig and my friend Stacey Uhrig (click here) came over to our house for the morning. Shockingly, all three boys played very nicely more-or-less-by-themselves while Stacey and I talked all morning. It was great! After lunch, when it was time for Stacey and Ben to go home, Owen — in a very rare twist of character (it was actually the first time that I ever remember) — absolutely refused to kiss/hug them goodbye. I take human niceness and basic social respect very seriously around here. My boys know to say goodbye when a visitor is leaving our house. Even after some prompting and probing Owen flat out refused. He sat himself down on the floor, would not even look at Ben or Stacey, and fussed. Ben’s feelings were hurt. Stacey was surprised to see Owen acting this way. And I was really fuming angry. I told him to “go to his room” and he stormed up the stairs and slammed his door. A few minutes later, after Stacey and Ben had driven out of the driveway, Owen fell apart in hysterics when he realized they weren’t coming back and he had lost his chance to say goodbye. In a full blown meltdown he cried: “I’m so mad at myself!” My own anger toward him immediately dissolved at that point, of course, but really — that kind of thing — acting like a little bugger who doesn’t have the heart to say goodbye like all the rest of us… that kind of thing seriously pisses me off. Yes, yes, yes, of course I know it is normal for a three year old. Still. It makes me mad.
- Yesterday afternoon the boys were getting ready to go golfing (i.e., go to the driving range) with Braydon. Kyle loves to go. He was all wound up about it. He was jumping up and down like a crazy person. He ran in an hysteric state and slammed his body into Owen’s, kissing Owen on the head. Owen shoved him off and said, “No Kyle, no thank you!” Kyle said, “Owen I was kissing you Owen!” And Owen said, “No thank you Kyle!” Kyle tried to kiss him again and Owen tried to escape. It is a huge no-no in our house to do something after someone say’s no (“‘No’ means no, boys, ‘no’ means no!”) I intervened: “Kyle, Owen said no. He doesn’t want you to kiss him right now.” “But I waaaaaaaaaant to kiss him” fussed Kyle in a whiney whiney voice (uh, I cannot stand whining). “KYLE,” I said, “do not kiss him, and do not fuss!” He stomped his foot and screamed “BUT I NEED TO FUSS!” Then he took off after his brother, yelled: “I NEED TO BE RUDE AT YOU!” and then grabbed hold of three of Owen’s dreadlocks and pulled them so hard that Owen’s whole body fell off balance and he landed on the floor. Owen wasn’t hurt. But he was pissed. And so was I. “TIME OUT KYLE! GO TO YOUR ROOM!” Yes, yes, yes, of course I know it is normal for a three year old. Still. It makes me mad.
Things That Did Not Make Me Really Fuming Angry Yesterday:
- Yesterday morning the boys were happily playing with play dough at the kitchen table. We have tons of play dough toys and they’ll sit for long stretches of time (long stretch of time for K & O to sit = 10-15 minutes max) playing with play dough. They seemed content. I said, “I’m going to be back in 2 minutes! I just need to check my email real quick!” and left them alone in the kitchen to go to my computer. When I returned 2 minutes later, this is what I found:
- While we were waiting for Stacey and Ben to arrive the boys were playing in the garage/driveway while I emptied the dishwasher. The kitchen door was open and I could hear them playing happily out there. I kept hearing something about “the tea”/”let’s pretend we’re having teas!” Etc. I figured they were pretending something about making tea/pouring tea/drinking tea/etc. Then they started yelling in for me: “MAMA! Come see us! We have tea in our hair! We have tea!!! We have tea! leafs! Come see our HAIRS!!!” I went out there thinking “tea” and “tea leaves.” Honestly, “golf tee” and “tree leaves” had never even entered my mind. This is what I found:
We have been talking a lot about the concept of memories around here lately. The boys love the classic children’s game Memory and when they match the game pieces correctly (which is almost always) they love exclaiming “I remembered!” and hearing us cheer “You have such a good memory!” They love hearing stories of our family adventures over and over and over and saying, “Do you remember that?” They often bring up experiences and events from the recent past and say “Do you remember when we ____?!” (for example, “Mama, Do you remember when we went to the ocean?! We did that yesterday! Do you remember?”)
Today just after their naps Kyle, Owen, and I were lying together in Owen’s bed. The boys were cuddly and still just waking up. Kyle and Owen’s bodies were all entwined together –arms and legs wrapped all around one another, torsos touching– and when they are so intimately physical with each other like this I’m often reminded of how special it must be to experience life with a twin. As we were lying there our lazy summer afternoon conversation turned to one of their current favorite subjects: talking about when they were babies. Owen said, “When I was a little tiny baby I was in the orphanage.” Kyle chimed in, “Me too!” We talked a bit about when they were babies in Haiti. I was telling them about how they shared a crib in the orphanage and never slept a night apart until they came home to our own house. We were talking and it was a slow, easy, quiet kind of talking. No real point to the conversation. No real destination that any of us seemed to be trying to get to. No agenda, just wandering. The kind of conversation you really only have when you’re lying in bed with someone having just woken up. Then Kyle very calmly but deliberately said something ~~ and suddenly the moment felt stunning and profound for me:
Owen was lying between Kyle and I, and Kyle purposefully lifted up his head to have eye contact with me. He looked right at me and completely out of the blue he said: “Mommy, when you were coming to get me, I heard you coming. In the orphanage. I heard you when you were coming to get me.”
It felt like time stood still for that second — like he was telling me something really, really important to him. To me it felt like he was choosing to share something special with me. Intellectually I know that it is probably impossible that a three year old child could remember an experience from when he was an eight month old baby. However, given the intensity of the experience, the huge life-changing character of it, the trauma-and-relief of that single turning-point moment in his life, the extreme nature of that moment… maybe it is possible that he indeed does have the memory? There was something about the way he said it, something about the way he shared the memory with me, that made me feel deep, deep inside that he was telling the truth — that he really actually does remember hearing us when we were coming to get him on January 31, 2005 in Haiti.
When we went to the orphanage to get the boys Kyle was in a side room lying on a bed mattress completely and utterly alone. It is very possible (probably likely) that even as an eight-month-old baby he had sensed all day that it was a different kind of day. The nannies had cleaned him and braided his hair and dressed him in a full set of clothes (all of those things were unusual for a typical day). Rock (the orphanage director) had left and surely everyone was in a flurry of excitement knowing that he was on his way to the airport to pick up someone’s adoptive parents. And surely the children in the orphanage were all revved up — it isn’t every day that someone gets taken home, never to return. As I think more about it, I actually believe what my three year old boy told me this afternoon. I’m sure as a baby he knew the day was something out of the ordinary. And then he heard the commotion in the main room of Braydon and I arriving. And then, just a couple of minutes later, Rock entered that side room, and picked him up, and then without any hesitation Rock placed a-tiny-hungry-baby-Kyle into Braydon’s arms. And Kyle’s life was changed forever. I think that today Kyle shared a memory that is profound: “Mommy, when you were coming to get me I heard you coming. In the orphanage. I heard you when you were coming to get me.”
“You did?” I said. “Yes, I did. I heard you coming.” said Kyle. “I believe you,” I said, “thank you Kyle, thank you for telling me that you remember that.” He laid his head back down next to Owen’s and said, “O.k. mommy.” And the conversation drifted onward.
Today we all played hooky and had A quintessential Day At The Beach. Complete with stop for ice cream on the way home (K & O still choose milkshakes over ice cream in a cone or cup… am I the only one who thinks that a bit strange for two three year olds???). Anyway, it was a really wonderful summer family day. Not a cloud in the sky. And great fun was had by all. Owen was basically on Cloud 9 from the second he stepped foot on the sand. He owned the beach. Kyle, however, had fits and starts of enthusiasm the entire day. He informed us over and over again that he likes “Virgin Gorda beach better” and that “Virgin Gorda beach is his favorite — not Jersey Shore Beach” and he was totally obsessed with the lifeguards and made it known that he “does not like lifeguards.” I totally get the Virgin Gorda part. But the lifeguards part?? Anyway, for as much as he made clear his strong preference for “Virgin Gorda beach” he spent plenty of the day enjoying the “Jersey Shore Beach” for what it’s worth. Today was a splendid, splendid day and we’re all going to bed feeling sun-drenched and family-bonded.
P.S. As much I have a hard time understanding how anyone can’t tell them apart… over the past few weeks several people have emailed me asking me to identify who is who in the blog photos because they can’t always seem to tell the difference between K & O. So, I’m going to start noting it sometimes. In these photos from today– Kyle is in the blue/white swimsuit and Owen is in the brown/white swimsuit. In the photo with Braydon, it is Kyle. In the photo with the milkshakes Kyle is in yellow shirt and Owen in orange shirt.
I like to think that even if I was raising white children I’d be making a concientious effort to find books for them with black characters in the stories and images of black people on the pages. However, I surely would not be going so far out of my way to try to buy up every children’s book I possibly can that seems to me to specifically and proactively work to instill self-confidence in black children. Right now, in this stage of their lives, one of our major goals in raising our boys is the fostering and development of strong, in-tact self-images. Self-confidence is a primary goal for us at this point in our parenting of Kyle and Owen. That is just one of the reasons that we have so many books for them with positive black imagery and text. Currently one of their absolute favorite books (Kyle, in particular) is Shades of Black: A Celebration of Our Children by Sandra Pinkney with photographs by Myles Pinkney. When I first bought it I thought it was so beautiful that it really should be a coffee table book! And I thought the text was actually too simplistic. But I was wrong. This book is a beloved, constantly requested, must-read daily for us lately (over the course of today, for example, K and/or O requested that I read this book to them no less than 5 times). Kyle actually has memorized the book (as he has with almost all of their books) and over the past few days I’ve caught him reciting parts of it aloud in spurts throughout the day. One line, in particular, Kyle is reciting over and over and over and over: “I am black, I am unique.” If you’re raising young black children right now, I highly recommend this book! And for anyone who has kids with dreadlocks… there is even a beautiful photo of a young girl with dreadlocks ~~~ and you know how rare that is to find in a children’s book!!!!!!! (every time we get to that page K & O happily point to the girl’s hair and say “Dreadlocks! Just like mine hair!!”) For a great place to buy it, click here.
It is wrong to try to make claims about other people’s feelings. Even if those other people are people who just turned three two months ago. And even if you are those people’s mother. But I have to say, that if Kyle and Owen could articulate it, I believe they’d say that in their opinion today was a Perfect Day. Not the perfect day (I do believe that there are several versions of a perfect day for them)… but definitely a perfect day. I think they feel that way. I think they express that through their behavior and attitude — even if they can’t verbally communicate it. Today was the first day of a week with me playing stay-at-home-mom since Alex is on vacation. Believe me, they’ll be THRILLED to see Alex by Thursday of next week!!!!!!!! They’ll go screaming and running with complete delight the second she arrives at the door!!! They’ll be happy-beyond-belief to finally get a break from me! Seriously. I’m not at all kidding. However, like probably most kids of working moms, Kyle and Owen love having mom-at-home time too. And these times are very special for our family. The boys had a leisurely morning around the house and never got out of their pajamas until 10:30 (when they changed into their bathing suits). They got to do lots of their favorite activities at home today: beading (!!), play-dough, tons of swimming, and “cooking” (i.e., cutting up fruit for a fruit salad and then mixing it up). They both got rocked to sleep by their mama for their afternoon naps. We went to pick up Jessica Waters from her Engineering Day Camp (great excitement for K & O!!!), Jessica came home and played with us for awhile, and later in the day… major highlight: the Waters Family came over to swim. To cap it all off the boys got to have one of their absolute favorite dinners tonight: The two of them completely polished off an entire box of Annie’s Macaroni and Cheese (click) loaded up with tons of peas mixed into it (yup, it is true: that is one of their all-time-favorite foods in the whole whole whole wide world — they literally light up and start squirming with glee when they see those organic white cheddar shells and green baby peas mixed all up together sitting in the bowl). Anyway, all in all, it was a Perfect Day for K & O.
The start of the day involved something never-previously-experienced in the Johnson-McCormick Family home. The boys were standing up on their stools in the kitchen ready to make a yogurt smoothie in the blender. They were waiting for me to collect the ingredients so we could begin. I noticed them kissing on the stools (for the past few days they’ve been back in a TOTAL lovey-dovey kissing phase where they kiss each other randomly numerous times throughout the day). All of a sudden Kyle said, “Mama, take our picture with the camera! Take our picture kissing!” Owen said, “Yes! Mommy! Get the camera! Take our picture kissing!!!” Never before have either of them ever requested we take a picture of anything. I grabbed the camera and obliged their request.
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