This afternoon we were playing at the pool. I was in the pool holding my arms out for Owen to jump to me from the edge. He likes to dive and jump and cannonball by himself and definately does not need me there (and rarely wants me there) to jump to… however… this afternoon he said: “Mommy, I will jump to you and you will catch me!” I said, “O.k.!” He stood on the edge of the pool, directly facing me in the water, with his beautiful little arms outstretched, full eye contact with me. I said, “I will catch you and then I will hug you!” He said, “Yes Mommy! I need love.”
Kyle & Owen after a visit from MorMor (i.e., after MorMor left us with literally dozens of loads of clean and folded laundry), March 2006.Through the blogosphere, via email, from far far away (at home in New Hampshire), MorMor has requested a post on the blog! This is a first for the Johnson-McCormick Family Blog! A Guest Blogger From A Distance! Here’s MorMor’s blog post for today:
How many mother-in-laws have gotten the following phone call?….
I answer the phone in NH
Janet: Hello
Braydon: Oh my gosh, the washer and dryer came today and I just have to say thank you for shaming me into buying new ones.
Janet: They came today?
Braydon: I just put in at least 20 towels from the washer into the dryer. It’s so quiet. Now I’m putting “all” the boys clothes in the washer right now. Oh my gosh it’s so quiet, listen can you hear it? No you can’t because it’s so quiet. I should have done this a long time ago. Holy crap this is amazing!!!
Janet: laughing hysterically, Oh my gosh Braydon, you are so funny!
PS The washer they have had for the last 10 years was an apartment size for one or two people. Braydon, who is responsible for all the cleaning and laundry in the house, was stuffing so much into the washer that the clothes never got to agitate and even with a dryer sheet in the dryer (which rumbled, and I mean so loud that we couldn’t do laundry when the boys were asleep) the clothes always smelled bad. Last week when I was there it took 3 loads to do the boys laundry basket (Braydon would have considered it one load). The next day Braydon was cuddling one of the boys, I can’t remember who, and he says to me “the clothes smell so good”. At that point another discussion was had about the new large capacity, low water washers and dryers. Right then and there he went online and ordered them!!!
Kyle and Owen know this… your Papi is my laundry hero!
I just have to post an addendum to my Love Thursday photo post from this week (click here). I had purposefully just left it as a photo alone with no text. But for whatever crazy reason(s) it has been nagging at me and pestering me every day since, and I feel like I need to write something to explain that moment in that picture.
Here’s the thing—- blogs are like photo albums in many ways. In our blogs we create the imagery and story that we want to convey to ourselves and others. We choose what goes in, how things are spun, and what is left out. I don’t focus much, for example, on the times I lose my temper at K & O or the times I cry on Braydon’s shoulder out of sheer exhaustion or the times I want to just explode in frustration at x, y, or z. I don’t write much about the boys’ bad behavior or my to-do-lists that just keep getting longer or the fights Braydon and I have over any number of things. Those things are part of our life. For sure. The reason I don’t focus on them in the blog has nothing to do with trying to present a glossy “picture perfect” version of our life. The reason is I don’t focus on them in the blog is simply this: I am a person who has always seen the glass as half full. Or, as my dad explains it: I am a person who always “makes lemonade out of lemons.” In terms of this blog as an historical ‘document’ for my boys… well, I figure that they’ll remember well enough all the bad parts about our life — all the times I lost it on them, all the times they saw me cry to their papi, all the times that I did __whatever__ ‘wrong’ and it stuck deep with them. As a mother I try to do the very best I can knowing full well that it will never be good enough, and knowing full well that some things that I can’t possibly predict will surely come back to haunt me when my boys are going through teen angst or going through twenties therapy or, God willing, going through their own raising-of-their-children. But still, it is very easy for me to sincerely feel that life is, indeed, good. That comes naturally for me. And it is genuinely an organic way of being for me to focus on the positive.
When you, as a blog reader, look at that photo from Thursday (here), you will see whatever you see. I can’t control your reactions to the photo — even if I do write in text. But I do want to write briefly what I see in that photo when I look in it… mostly for the sake of Kyle and Owen if they ever happen to read this later in their lives. I want them to know honesty.
When I look at that photo I see the sheer intense love of a mother-child bond. I see myself holding my precious baby boy. I see a perfect corn-rowed child in a cozy winter sweater, whole-body-relaxed in the arms of the only mama he’s ever known. I see calm. I see contentment. I see love. I see myself, a mother who can’t help but smile. And I see myself, a mother with complete determination glowing out of my icy blue eyes. I also see that moment as I remember it… We had just come home from Doylestown where we had been before a judge in a formal Bucks County courtroom. Braydon and I had taken the day off from work, we had all dressed up, we had brought the camera, we were ecstatic to finally be taking the last step of a long and painful and — at times — truly torturous adoption process. It was the day of our final court hearing. This court hearing would officially proclaim Kyle and Owen legally adopted by us under U.S. law. A huge day in the life of any adoptive family. We had gone to the court, tried to keep the boys quiet through the proceedings, and waited on the edge of our seats for this whole entire paper-chase-red-tape-home-study-adoption-agency-check-writing-immigration-visas-fingerprinting-heart-wrenching-up-all-night-with-anxiety-trip-to-Haiti-re-adoption-U.S.-citizenship-doctor’s-visits-transition-attachment-social-security-fill-out-the-forms-never-ending-phone-calls ORDEAL to be done for once and for all. Then the judge denied our adoption. His ruling was not what we had expected: he ruled that we were not their parents under U.S. law. “Well, who’s children are they if they aren’t ours?” we asked ourselves. Under Haitian law they were already our children. But in our own country they were officially nobody’s. Yet again, our adoption had not gone according to plan– yet again, another bump in the road. Yet again, our hearts and spirits were shaken. The problem that the judge had found (a technicality that even our lawyer — someone who had practiced adoption law for over a decade — told us was “ridiculous”) was resolved and a couple of months later we were officially declared a legal family. But that moment in the picture — that moment we had come in the door, my baby sleepy from our car ride home from the court house, my husband capturing it with the camera lens — that moment is much more complex than it may first appear. Still, however, it is the honest truth — when I look at this photo what I see is the sheer intense love of a mother-child bond. I see myself holding my precious baby boy. I see a pefect corn-rowed child in a cozy winter sweater, whole-body-relaxed in the arms of the only mama he’s ever known. I see calm. I see contentment. I see love. I see myself, a mother who can’t help but smile. And I see myself, a mother with complete determination glowing out of my icy blue eyes.
It feels like summer is in full swing now. The boys basically wake up, eat breakfast, and then head for the pool. It would be hard to pry them away from the pool — but we don’t even try. This weekend I taught Owen the phrase “Now this is the life!” Every now and then if he’s in the midst of lovin’ life at the pool he’ll casually say, “Mommy, this is the life!” Kyle barely ever utters a word these days since he’s literally under water more than he’s above.
This afternoon Kyle and Owen were pretending that they were setting off fireworks. They would run back and forth from the deck to the middle of the yard where MorFar had set off the fireworks for the 4th of July. They told me over and over that they were “pretending to be MorFar!” They had me standing on the deck and I was repeatedly instructed that I was to “pretend to be the Waters!” This went on and on and on for about 20 minutes. After about the millionth time of this fireworks-pretending-routine, as we were standing on the deck, Kyle said: “Mama, I want to really do the fireworks. Not pretend. Real. I want to be MorFar.” I said, “Kyle, when you are a big man, just like MorFar, then you can do fireworks for real. But now you can only pretend.” Kyle said, “But I am getting big. I am getting to be a big man just like MorFar.” I said, “No, Kyle, you’re not old enough yet.” He came right back: “But, Mama, how old is MorFar?” I said, “You want to know how old he is? Kyle, MorFar is SIXTY! Sixty years old!” He thought about this for a second, then he said, “Yes, Mama, MorFar is sixty years old. And MorMor is twenty years old.”
O.k., seriously now, y’all know my boys… y’all know how NOT crafty they are… y’all know how much they are the antithesis of craftiness. They just can’t be bothered to sit still long enough to do any serious crafting. I mean, really, why take time out from terrorizing the cat, or tearing down the driveway on a scooter, or triple-twist-flipping-into-the-swimming-pool to do something like coloring? or pasting? or any-kind-of-crafting? Why interrupt the non-stop extreme action for something that requires such extreme calm??? B-O-R-I-N-G. Let’s be honest: for them one of the highlights so far of their summer-out-of-daycare has been the heavenly release from the daycare-craftiness-grind. It is sad. Especially for me. Since I actually really love doing crafty things myself. In my feeble attempt to round them out a bit (i.e., keep them from becoming entirely immersed in a life of nothing-but-intense-brutal-physicality), and in an effort to share my enthusiasm for creative craftiness (hoping someday something might wear off on them), I have tried to do one visually creative/”crafty” activity with them each day this summer. I’ve tried everything that kids their age are supposed to love: coloring, painting, cutting, gluing, play dough, those foam sticker things, ETC. They like it. For all of about five minutes. I try to stretch it to ten minutes just to make the set-up-and-clean-up-efforts at least semi worth it. But by ten minutes into the craft activity du jour they are more than ready to BOLT out of their seats to run-jump-stomp-run-skip-ride-roll-run-sprint-swim-climb-run-slide-hang-run-run (did I already say run?). To be honest, I had sort of given up on any serious crafting with them long, long ago. But, folks, I think it is safe to say that we have had a major breakthrough!!!!!!! I think I may have found a craft that these boys actually like!!?!!!!!!! BEADING. ?!?! I had bought the supplies last week, attempting yet again to find a new craft that they might actually like. I had not yet gathered up the gumption to try it out on them. But last night Kyle and I sat quietly in the playroom together for 30 minutes straight while he made a bead necklace for MorMor. 30 minutes of uninterrupted focused crafting with my boy. I couldn’t believe my own eyes as I sat on the couch with him and watched his little fingers pick up each bead and carefully, pain-stakingly work patiently to string it onto a piece of gimp. I thought it was some sort of fluke. My theory last night was that it was a one-shot-deal — perhaps Kyle’s way of working through his post-traumatic-shock-of-MorMor-leaving-to-go-home induced state? But then this morning (after they jumped maniacally on the bed for a full half hour doing all sorts of incredibly dangerous “tricks” and working themselves into full-blown-sweats), Kyle suggested that we “do beads!” I almost fell on the floor in shock. “O.k.!!!!!” I said. Owen said, “No, I don’t want to! Let’s ride our trucks over the bump bumps Kyle!” And Kyle said, “No, beads Owen. It is fun Owen. I like it!” I ran for the supplies. Sure enough, for 30 minutes straight (yes, THIRTY MINUTES straight!!!!!) we three sat on the floor of the family room and my boys carefully, pain-stakingly strung plastic beads onto black pieces of string. The focused concentration was unlike I’ve ever seen from them before. They sat right next to each other and quietly, calmly, patiently each made a beaded necklace for Alex. Multiple times I overheard them as they proclaimed their love for this craft to each other. “Owen?” Kyle said. “Yes Kyle?” said Owen. “Owen, I like this! I like doing these beads!” “Yes, Kyle, I like it too! I like it! I like it! I like it!” I tried to play it cool, but as you can imagine, I could barely contain myself. All I could think was ‘a crafting breakthrough! a crafting breakthrough!’ Yes folks, a crafting breakthrough indeed!!!’
Heather & Kyle, December, 2005
Owen and Kyle’s new favorite pastime: Playing With Papi’s Old Ties. They each have one. They spend long extended periods of time “tying them” onto “button shirts” and “wearing ties” to go to “the airport” and “to work” and “to the big organ music church” and “tying them” and “making them on button shirts so tight on the neck” and “wearing big nice ties” to “go on the airplane” and “wearing ties that are tied” to “work at a restaurant” and “wearing ties as cookers at Carrabas Restaurant” where they “wear ties to make pasta” and “wear ties to make salad and bread and everybody eats it and it is so good” because they are “good cookers!” and then they “tie ties onto button shirts” to “drive the ferry so fast” and “tying the ties” to “be pilots driving big airplanes up in the sky” and “tying the ties” and “tying the ties” and “tying the ties.”
We spent our Fourth of July yesterday with K & O’s most adored two people on earth: MorMor & MorFar, and with K & O’s most adored family on earth: The Waters. If you read this blog you know about my parents (MorMor & MorFar) and you know about our friends The Waters. The big downer was the rainy-yucky weather. Not exactly the 4th of July pool-bbq that we all had imagined. Highlights, however, included: crazy-crazy-Waters-Johnson-McCormick MARCHING BAND, big bowls of summer fruit, MorMor’s-awesome-ice-cream-cake-dessert, and a fireworks display put on in our own back yard by none-other-than-MORFAR! He’d light one off; the kids would all go nuts watching it from our deck (with the exception of Owen, of course, who was deathly afraid and in the house getting loved on by Corey); and then the entire ‘audience’ would loudly chant/scream “MorFar! MorFar! MorFar!” (although when we listened closely we noticed that some of the younger kids were actually chanting “More Fire! More Fire! More Fire!”); then MorFar would light another one off. The level of excitement for this fireworks display seriously rivaled any major city’s fireworks shows yesterday, I’m sure of it. Anyway, we had a blast (no pun intended!). Hope your 4th was fun too.
HAPPY FOURTH OF JULY EVERYONE!
Here is the YouTube link to a new video our friend Corey Waters has made: CLICK HERE. In addition to being a wonderful mom to her six kids she somehow makes time to be an incredible advocate for Haiti and Haitian Adoption. Please watch!
MorMor and MorFar arrived late Friday night for our 4th of July Visit. Kyle and Owen adore them, and are in heaven with all the playtime they are getting with their grandparents. Braydon and I adore them too, and are in heaven with all the playtime K & O are getting with their grandparents. đŸ˜‰ Since Kyle and Owen came home our tradition for the 4th of July is to have my family here with us in Pennsylvania and, importantly, to not allow my parents to “work” around here (i.e., we try hard to keep them from doing all the cooking, cleaning, yardwork, etc. that they normally insist on doing when they visit). As much as we appreciate them doing all those things (and Lord knows we do appreciate it!!!!!!), we try to keep it to a minimum for the 4th. Sadly this year my sister and her family couldn’t make it. But we’re trying to do our best to have a good time without them. In addition to all the pool-time and play-time (and exclusively eating out for dinner!!!) that we’ve been doing… we’ve also done a couple of really fun outings. On Saturday night we went to Tinicum Park for the annual Riverside Symphonia “Concert Under the Stars” (click here). This is a Bucks County 4th of July tradition. We had never been before. I don’t think we’ll ever miss it again for as long as we live here. It was awesome!!! Although the lobster salad picnic dinner we had was not well appreciated by K & O (they ate chicken and pasta salad instead), they absolutely loved the music. (and about 4,000 concert-going people absolutely loved watching them love the music). And they had a Love- (Kyle) -Hate (Owen) relationship with the fireworks (we four adults agree, however, that they were truly the best fireworks we’ve ever seen). The boys had their latest night yet — were wide awake until about 11pm. It was a good, good time. (and they slept until 9am the next morning — also a good, good time for Braydon and I who gladly slept in!). Here are a few photos.
Yesterday Braydon worked for the day and my dad treated the rest of us to a trip to the Lehigh Valley Zoo (click here). We’ve been to the Philadelphia Zoo (the “Big Zoo”) a couple of times with K & O, but had never been to the — much smaller scale — Lehigh Valley Zoo. I have to say that for Kyle and Owen, right now, at age 3, the “Little Zoo” was just PERFECT. Highlights for them were the river otter, running like madmen along the zoo paths, and a horse-drawn hayride.
Highlights for me were having my parents there to help me with these two tyrants. Seriously, sometimes (i.e., when they are overtired) they are so, so bad. And it is nice to have my parents around to: #1) help me keep them in check, and #2) help affirm for me that no I am not losing my mind and yes, indeed, they are super super super “active” and… uh… ‘challenging’ at times to parent. Most of all, though, it is nice to have my parents around to: #3) tire them out. There is no one on this earth (Braydon and I included) who can physically and mentally exhaust them like their MorMor and MorFar can. In fact, yesterday — July 2, 2007 — something unprecedented occurred. At the zoo, at about 2:00 in the afternoon, Owen stood by a tree and refused to move. As I walked toward him to pick him up he said to me: “Mommy, I’m sleepy. I need to go to sleep now.” I stood there in shock. Then picked him up and handed him to my mother. 
Oh, and also, it is nice to have my parents around to: #4) make me a margarita at 5pm.
Oh, and also, it is nice to have my parents around to: #4) make me a margarita at 5pm.
Last night my dad made margaritas for everybody. He and my mom suprised K & O by giving them theirs (don’t worry theirs were virgin margaritas) in cups with crazy straws shaped like glasses. It was an absolute hoot! The first thing I said when I saw this scene was: “Kyle and Owen, you are not bringing these with you when you go to college.”
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