Heather is really, really ready. The baby is clearly not.
Braydon
While Heather napped a little on Mother’s Day afternoon, the boys had a little kite-flying fun in the front yard. Â After that we played whiffle ball (which means I pitched the ball to them for about 45 minutes).
It’s the final countdown – one week to go until Baby Sister is due! Doesn’t Heather look AWESOME?!?!? I can’t believe how amazing my wife is. I know men often say this, but wow – I am really in awe of her. Not only has she taken incredible care of herself and our baby, but she puts on a happy, energetic face for the boys everyday, she creates wonderful birthday parties, she maintains her enormous career, keeps our social life intact, plans and cooks for all of us. She is an amazing wife, she powers through pain, discomfort, sleeplessness (and there is not a whole lot of sleeping going on around here at the moment) and she looks beautiful. (and truthfully, I am quite sure I don’t know everything she does.)
Incredible.
We like to expose K & O to a wide variety of music. I in particular like them to hear lots of “classical” music for a whole bunch of reasons. I tend to do this in the car – where I have a captive audience! 
Fortunately they are totally into it. Here is a list of some of their current favorite “classical” (only two of these are actually classical) music:
- O Fortuna – Carl Orff
- Short Ride on a Fast Machine – John Adams
- Symphony #9, 2nd and 4th movements – Beethoven
- Eine Kline Nacthmusick – Mozart
- Alexander Nevsky – Prokofiev
- Variations on “Simple Gifts” – Copland
- Fanfare for the common man – Copland
- Overture to Candide – Bernstein
- Now lettest thou be thy servant – the Glinka Choir, Lenningrad
And if I can figure out how to get my MP3 player to work in the car better, there will be a lot more soon.
So we were in the car the other day listening to “The Germans fall through the ice” (I don’t know what the real title is) from Alexander Nevsky and Owen says:
O: “Papi, I like that!!!”
P: “Oh good, I am glad to hear it!”
O: “Papi, who wroted that music down?”
I was stunned. I told him and tried to plumb the depths of his brain to figure out how he knew to ask that. I have been trying to say “this piece is by so and so” but I never put it into those terms. I mean – it’s really nutty when you think about. To get there, here’s what he had to do:
- Realize that we were listening to a recording of a performance of music (which is not an object unto itself)
- Realize that the music was performed by a group of people
- Understand that the music doesn’t just happen, that it is planned
- Understand that someone had to plan it (or “compose” is as the case may be)
- Realize that the planning of it comes before the performance, which comes before the recording
- Realize that in order for the plan to be executed, it must be communicated, and that is most likely on paper (like reading books)
- Realize that someone who (most likely planned it) had to write it down on paper to give to the people performing.
Now, I am no cognitive development expert, and I realize this is normal, but wow – it’s so cool when you get to see this kind of thing happens!
O: “Papi, who wroted that music down?”
We’re an appreciative family. We look around and see the world for what it is and are generally thankful for what we have. Not that we don’t work to make things better, or see the ills needing to be fixed, or work hard for our futures, because we do. But we appreciate the luck we have, the opportunities we’ve been able to maximize upon and the people in our lives.
That said, Kyle and Owen seem to be particularly appreciative. We’ve mentioned before that they just are, and always have been. They don’t want much, they almost never ask for anything material, and they love what they have. For example, when we were in New Hope , and we did a little shopping for baby sister, there were stuffed animals all around and they never asked for any of them. The only thing they ever ask for are experiences, like riding the train.
Anyone who has been around them will attest that they are some of the most polite boys and almost always say please and thank you. Mostly that is our doing – we work hard to make sure they say their please’s and thank you’s.
But sometimes it just comes so unexpectedly, so genuinely, so amazingly so joyfully.
When I was putting Kyle to bed and I was done “talking about the day” I said to him: “Kyle, do you have any questions for me?” Now, he doesn’t seem to know what a question is – he thinks it’s some kind of statement.
Lying there in his single bed, about half the length of it, two honey bunnies, one sheep, a stuffed fish and his pillow, wearing his frog covered PJs and having just read his favorite Marching Band book, He got a huge grin- I could see his white teeth in the dark:
“It was a great day. I loved to ride the train. Thank you Papi for the train. I love you.” and gave me a big kiss on the cheek.
That’s not why we do it, but wow does that make it all worth it.
In this world, among the various types of people, there are those who consume and those who create. That’s not to say that people who consume do not create, nor that people who create do not consume. It’s to say that people come at the world from the perspective of consumption or the perspective of creation. And you can’t have it both ways.
People who foundationally understand the world through the lens of consumption are those who believe that the work they do is intended for generating a reward they can gather as a result of their labor. And at the end of successful work, they believe they deserve the fruits they have gathered.
People who foundationally understand the world through the lens of creation are those who believe that the results of the work they do is intended to be consumed by others. At the end of successful work, others receive the fruits of their labor.
There are few people in the second category. And honestly, I am not sure I am one of them, although I think I might be, I want to be and I try.
But what I have noticed is that the people who fall into that second category, and I mean really fall into that second category, like at the bottom of an enormous pit, fall into that second category – are really rare.
The work these people do ranges widely – artists who create for the pure human connection their work; aid or missionary workers in Haiti, or Africa, or even modern ghettos in New York; social workers, crisis hotline staff, shelter workers, – people who give unglamorously of themselves for the betterment of others. It can also be someone who reaches out to a friend and suggests they meet another person whom they would like. Then step out of the middle and let it be. It could be a cup of coffee bought by a stranger. It does not have to be a big thing to be a big thing.
Of course, all those things can be done by someone who is really a consumer. The creation is not just in the act, but in the attitude and how it informs every decision, every action, every reaction that someone does. And that attitude directly affects the recipient of the creation.
If it’s done out of a desire for reward, then it has one meaning. One that requires something back from the recipient. If it’s done out of creation, it requires nothing in return. For people in the consuming category, it’s about them. For people in the creation category, it’s about you.
People who are true creators, in addition to the work they do, create a web around them. A web of people who tie into them and give back into the web. A web that feels so fragile, so tenuous, but when push comes to shove, is stronger than any contrived hierarchical web created to give power.
If you are lucky enough to have become entangled in such a web, don’t let go. If you are so lucky a person has created such a web around you, be thankful and appreciative. If you are so lucky that you have an opportunity to give back to this web, do it without hesitation.
In addition to my wife Heather, I personally really only know a few other people who are genuine creators.
Janet and Don just left after visiting for 5 sleeps. It’s not just that Janet washed every single piece of baby clothes, cooked for all of us, cleaned and loved the boys. It’s not just that Don gutted our front garden and redid the entire thing, or did a major overhaul on the sandbox, or built the new Adirondacks, or loved the boys. It’s not that when from the moment they arrive to the moment they leave energy and fuel is poured into our lives.
It’s not just that they did those things. It’s that when they did them, they did them for us. They gave to that web, they gave not for them, but for us. They entangled us in their steel gossamer web. And they are like that all day, every day.
And for that we are all thankful.
This morning Kyle was up before Owen and we had breakfast together. After we ate, he wanted a little snuggle and while filling his love tank, I said: “You are such a smart and nice boy! HOW did I get such a smart and nice boy? How? Do you know how I got such a smart and nice boy How did I get so lucky!?!?”
Kyle: [grinning ear to ear, basking in the glory] “When I was a little baby, you adopted me!!!”
Later, when I was giving Owen breakfast, we had a similar discussion: “How did I get so lucky? How did I get such a smart and nice boy? How, how, how???”
Owen: [also grinning ear to ear, basking in the glory] ” Yooooooou knooooow, you crazy papi!!! In Haiti!!!”
So – after a number of questions about our new camera, this is the story.
We had wanted to “upgrade” for a while, and when bonus season came around and our camera bit the dust, we decided to do it.
I did a lot of online research and we ultimately went with the Nikon D40, with the included kit 18-55mm lens (28-80mm equiv). We also got the Nikon sb-600 flash (but it has not arrived yet). I suspect we’re going to get the 18-200mm lens at a later date to give us more zoom.
It’s easy to use, has an auto setting for Heather, is super light, and way way way way fast. Feels like instant on, instant taking a picture. There feels like no delay from when you click the shutter release to when the picture is taken. This is our first Digital SLR, so it’s new for us to have such quality. Our previous camera (that’s being repaired) is a Canon G7, which is a very good point and shoot – but there are delays when starting and taking pictures. We were ready to upgrade.
Our choice was between the Nikon D60, D80 and the Canon Rebel XTi. If we had wanted to spend twice as much, I would have gotten the D200, but we didn’t. Those cameras have more megapixels than the D40, but since we’re not making poster sized prints, we don’t really need more than 6 (which is what the D40 has), and the D40 has better color and exposure quality than the D60 and D80. Not being a camera expert, that’s what I read in reviews anyway.
I used these two sites to help with the research:
And we bought it at Circuit city. The prices online were comparable, and with no shipping, automatic 10% off on the flash and memory card, it simply came in at the best price. We also got the 2 year extended warranty, since our last 4 cameras have all broken within two years.
We’re loving it so far.
We have always been highly motivated. This motivation comes from a variety of places, some external forces and some internal. Some sources are more influential than others and some are more comforting influences than others. But whatever the genesis of our motivation, the outcome is the same: we are driven.
This drive is not limited to any one thing, it cuts across everything. And it’s not just driven to succeed in the traditional career sense. It’s driven to be engaged in life fully. To find the daily experience that engages us, propels us and unites us. It is to be unequivocally moving forward, progressing, creating, and improving. To be a life force.
***
When we decided to adopt, we did our paper work, we went through the motions. And then, as many adoptive families have experienced, things came to a griding halt. At the end of 2004 things were bad in Haiti. Not that things are wonderful now, but that period was particularly bad. And we were adopting in the middle of it. Along with many other people. It was winter, and snowing here. It was falling apart.
The advice we received was to wait, to not rock the boat, to let things take their course. It would all pass and get done. But in our mind, each day, each minute, each second, our baby boys were getting older. They were not getting the love and care we could provide, that they needed. They were alive, and relatively healthy as far as orphans in Haiti go, but when your children are waiting, that is no comfort. Each moment was an eternity for us and although the boys didn’t know, those moments slipping away were immeasurably valuable in so many ways.
Right or wrong as you may think, we took matters into our own hands. We called the head of Haitian social services. We called him daily. We called the Department of Homeland security daily. I connected with the DHS director for Latin American (who covers Haiti). We put the welfare of our children above all others. We were warned off by Haitians to not disrupt things, we were warned off by US services to not disrupt things. We pushed harder.
Things were hung up. Our paper work was not ready. Violence was erupting daily on the streets. It was chaos, there were concerns about over all country stability. We couldn’t wait any longer. We bought plane tickets. We would not come home without our babies.
***
We arrived in PaP and Rock, the incredible man running the orphanage and facilitating things on the ground, picked us up at the airport. We could tell he didn’t think much of us coming down here now, without everything complete and with the situation as it was. What did we expect to be able to accomplish. We gave him a wad of money and told him to use it to make things happen.
One day hours passed as we waited sitting in a steaming jeep in downtown PaP waiting for an Haitian ID to be finished. I had Owen in a front carrier, Heather had Kyle. We were all dehydrated and H and I fed the boys dried cheerios. Street vendors carrying their wares on tall sticks walked by hawking things at us. A woman cooked beans and rice in an aluminum pot over a rubber tire fire.
Before the ID was finished, shots rang out next to us. Everyone ducked, scattered; the streets cleared. Rock’s cousin jammed the jeep into drive and sped off, counting all along the way: 10% safe, 20% safe, 50% safe, until we arrived at our UN protected, walled hotel where he said we were 80% safe. We found out we had the ID. Heather and I each drank two rum punches that night, I fell and bruised my bottom.
The next morning, the Haitian paper work was done, but we had to wrangle the US side to get visas. It was the day before Carnival and we were strongly advised by everyone to get out of the country before this particular Carnival. I called to get airline tickets – all flights were 100% booked. But sometimes, you can find the right person. Sometimes that right person hears you, connects with you and moves mountains for you. I found that person and we secured 4 tickets on the day Carnival starts.
We got into the jeep wearing our babies on our chests. The consulate had removed all non-essential personnel and was closing. Our facilitator had given up on getting the visas and told us we would have to wait until next week. We convinced him to head to the consulate anyway. Using his cell phone as we drove into PaP I got someone at the consulate. And then I got the right person who agreed to meet us before he was evacuated.
Our facilitator was clearly amazed. Owen and Kyle were sweating in the morning heat, pressed to our chests.
There were no US Marines at the consulate, only Haitian guards. We waited for a long time. There was a 3 year old Newsweek in the lobby. A Dartmouth grad came out to sign out paper work. We played the name game, it was really weird. We had the visas.
The last stop was Department of Homeland security. We were an hour late for our appointment. They had been sticklers about every detail. Eventually they let us in (there was a line out the door). In an amazing coincidence, the DHS Director for Latin American happened to be visiting Haiti that week. He saw our boys. There was a document still missing. We had the document but it needed something, I can’t even remember what. He looked at us, he looked at the boys, he signed the document. We were ready to go.
Before we left, our facilitator said to us, “you have passion”. That was his explanation for how we accomplished everything in a week. He was astounded.
Some people are highly critical of our decisions on how to go about doing things and how we did it. Some are bitter that we were able to get our kids faster. Some think the way we did it was right. After we came home, a number of communications came out that nobody under any circumstances should call the Haitian social services department. I am sorry if we caused any problems for anyone else.
***
This is how we live our life. Daily. Find the things that really matter.
Do whatever it takes.
In July we bought a Ford Explorer. Used, but in great condition, not a scratch on it. The boys love it – it’s the “Big Red Truck” for them. They love for me to drive on the grass, to go through big puddles, they love to start it (yes, I give them the keys and let them start it – I know it’s nuts). I love the truck, I have always loved trucks, that’s just the way it is.
K & O also love golf. They love their golf clubs. They love to hit the ball. They love their 5 woods (which is one with a large metal head). They also love to pretend their golf clubs are other things sometimes – a broom, a snow plow, a baseball bat – I am sure there are many others. They sometimes love to slam them on the ground.
The other day, K & O were pretending the golf clubs were the brushes they use at car washes. They decided to wash they truck with these brushes; these brushes that really happen to be golf clubs. They did this on the doors and the rear quarter panels. They did this up and down and side to side. Over and over.
I haven’t taken a picture because I am still trying to not be angry. They did it to be nice – to wash the Big Red Truck. It just happens that golf clubs used as brushes create really big scratches in car paint.
Around these parts we’ve been looking forward spring a whole bunch – and today was a great way to begin ushering it in. A nice leisurely breakfast and playing in the morning (playing included vacuuming…) then off to Friendly’s for lunch which included the boys current fav – mac and cheese, and a burger for us and Heather’s current fav (and by current = while pregnant) Reese’s sundae. Then we went to the Castle playground and had a wonderful afternoon playing and watching and chatting and playing some more.
We took a nice walk around what Kyle called the “perfect pond” where K&O splashed the water with long sticks (like about 4-6 feet long) – a favorite type of past-time. While there, some kids came by on skateboards; you can imagine what transpired next. Or if you can’t you can look at the picture below. Please forgive the lousy quality, as you know, our camera died and this was with my cell phone.
All in all, a great, great J-M Family day – right up our alley.
One of the boys’ favorite things to do is have us watch them do things. “Papi/Mommy, watch me!” is a common refrain heard in these parts. Whether it’s for jumping on the bed, thowing rocks, riding a scooter, or flying their airplane or writing their letters, they always love to have us “watch them”. And watching them really means: Mommy/Papi, tell me that you see me doing something and tell me that you are proud of me. The reponse to the call is “I see you! Great job!” I am sure most parents can totally relate to this in some way.
—
Recently things around here have been pretty dicey. We’ve been flat-out with work, I’ve been seriously distracted, Heather’s pregnant (and been sick), we’re a family that loves to be outside and the weather’s been nasty, it’s the dead of winter, tensions have been high, stress has been high, tolerance – low. We have not fully gotten back into a routine after the holidays, we’re just not quite in sync.
—
And we have not heard “Watch me!” as much. And for me in particular, I almost never hear “Papi, watch me!” When they do say it, they almost always say “Mommy, watch me!” They have just not been getting the attention they need from me. They were not even asking for it, since they were not getting it. And worst of all, I have not even been fully aware this was happening. It had just been slipping away.
—
Then we went on our little vacation. We let everything go. We forgot about work, we forgot about stress, we doted on our little boys. We snuggled, we played, I threw them high in the swimming pool, we had special smoothies. It was everything we all needed and wanted.
—
About 24 hours into our get-away everything began to change. I started to hear “Papi, watch me!” and again, and again. It was as if a switch had turned back on. It was miraculous and wonderful. I had not even realized I was missing it. Papi watch me jump in the pool, watch me play in the sand, watch me make a face, watch me thow a frisbee, watch me throw a rock, watch me drink my drink, watch me write a letter in the sand;
—
Watch me just be me.
—
When we got home, we took an extra day off of work to get reoriented. At one point the boys were throwing koosh basketballs in the house into a koosh hoop – and having a great time. Owen wanted me to count how many times he was able to get it in the basket. And of course each time: “Papi, watch me!” After 31 times of getting the koosh in the basketball hoop and over 60 “Papi, watch me!”, he wanted me to start over from 1 and count again. By this time Kyle had gotten in on it and there were two sets of “Papi, watch me!” Lots and lots of watch me. And for every one, there was a:
—
I am watching you; great job!
—
And now we are home and back at it. And I don’t want the “Papi, watch me!”‘s to go away. And with our lives the way they are, I worry about that and fear they will. It’s entirely in my hands to make sure it doesn’t.
—
I (in particular) have to stay focused on the most important things in life – watching my boys.
I dropped the boys off at Heather’s office at 3:30 and drove to the airport. Boarded a commuter jet – what land is this where we have jet airplanes for commuting – and hopped to Cincinnati. The sunset at 26,000 feet was gorgeous, the man next to me moved to another seat and we both had more room. The clouds spread out like a blanket covering, warming, protecting the earth; shrouding it. Pockets of lights below, patterns of cities and highways, a police car, traffic, a baseball diamond. Another city, people going home. There were two small kids traveling with their mother in front of me. My family is getting ready for bed right now.
When I landed I called home to catch the boys before they went to bed – but missed them. Grabbed a Quizno’s sub for dinner. A long time ago I saw a travelling salesman driving in front of me, he had shirts hanging on a bar that went across the back of his car. They filled the car from side to side. His wardrobe on the road, his home away from home; his car. Where does he eat every night? I carry my bag, sit down and plug in my phone to charge it.
The woman across the isle from me on the next regional jet worked on her laptop, spreadsheets and powerpoint decks. Patterns of keys clicking; a splash of red and blue. Another person working. Landed in Greenville to dense fog. It covers everything in a hazy mist. The plane ducked out of it and the lights of cars and buildings emerged.
There is a line at the National rental car; I bypass it to go straight to the garage. The attendant: Yes Sir, No Sir; his neatly combed hair cut in a typical southerner’s style, his moustache short; Leave Me Alone Sir. But I don’t blame him, it’s 9 PM on a Tuesday, he’s married, clearly a father; doesn’t want to be there any more than I do.
The tall skinny long-needle topped pine slipped by as I drove behind a semi down the highway. I catch H on the phone before she cleans up and goes to bed. It begins to really hit me now. The glow of enormous Southern strip malls lighted the sky and the haze around so I could have driven with the headlights off. I pass a Honda dealer, a BMW dealer and a Jaguar dealer. I pass an Olive Garden and a Boston Market. What land is this that has these things?
I check in at the Embassy Suites, a nice young lady greets me “Good evening, do you have a reservation?” One of my staff was looking for me earlier, but there is no way I am going to talk to them now. There are a number of tables in the hotel bar with people congregated around them. They are all looking around to see who else is around. I wonder if they see each other – they clearly see me as I walk by. I see a man sit down among them with his laptop and a powerpoint presentation running. My room is on the 9th floor.
***
On the mirror in our bedroom at home, Heather has tucked in a card with a MLK quote: “Everything that is done in the world is done by hope.” I believe this to be true. I believe this to be true for everyone, for everything they want, for everything they do. For everyone. I believe that hope connects us together in ways that we often ignore, or at least forget to notice.
I have not been gone 12 hours, but the realization of hope and appreciation is acute. Our future baby girl, our now baby boys, my wife, our house, our careers. It is all done by hope.
Thank you Heather for hanging in there and supporting me so much in all I do with work. It is done by hope.
And love.
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