Nothing screams “summer!” like spin art! (Don’t forget, I grew up at a camp!) Today we got out our little spin art machine and had some summertime fun~~
A certain someone veered just a bit off course~~
And a couple of others got really into it~~
And in the end we had some super summery works of spin art! (…and a big huge mess… but it was totally worth it!)
This was our 6th year attending our Pennsylvania-Area Haitian Adoptive Families Reunion. This yearly tradition has, for us, come to feel like much more than a gathering of adoptive families. These families have come to feel like kin. It feels like kinship.
kinship [kin·ship] noun
- The state or fact of being kin; a group of persons descended from a common ancestor or constituting a family, clan, tribe, or race.
- Relationship by nature, qualities, affinity, etc.
- Someone or something of the same or similar kind.
It is impossible for me to articulate this well, so I hope that the photos can speak to it in a way that I can’t. There is an affinity with these families that is indescribable. There is a sense of ‘at-homeness’ with them unlike any other. And this year, even more than in previous years, I can see in the past couple of days post-reunion a sort of ‘homesickness’ that my kids are feeling in their post-reunion let-down. Being at the reunion feels like being with our people. There is a common bond. A sort of mutual unspoken understanding. An ability to let our guard down, be at ease, and be unquestioned. A sense of one-ness. A connectedness. It is kinship. I feel it with this group more than I’ve felt it with any other group in my lifetime. I know my kids and Braydon feel it too. It is a gift to us to have this in our lives.
And it is hard to come back to reality after a weekend like that. It is hard to come down from such tremendous joy. There were a lot of tears shed in our car as we drove away this year. And finally the boys are getting old enough now (Meera is still too young), to be able to verbalize it a bit. “It is just totally different than school friends,” Owen said, with tear-stained cheeks, crumpled up in the backseat, exhausted and filthy from playing hard for about 8 hours straight. “It feels awesome to be with all other families that are just like us,” said Kyle, eyes pooled with tears, bottom lip quivering, soul filled from such a special day, but heart broken to have to leave. We tried to talk through it a little as a family. But the bottom line is that our Haiti Reunion is one of the highest highs of our year. And it is hard to have it end.
There was so much anticipation leading up to it. You have to understand that our kids — all three of them — wait excitedly for an entire year for this weekend to come. By the time we reached our hotel this weekend they were overflowing with excitement. {below: in the hotel room, the night before the reunion, uncontained through-the-roof excitement}
The next morning, they put on their new Haiti shirts. This is a yearly ritual for me– I always buy a new set of Haiti t-shirts for the reunion– the bambinos have caught on and they now get excited to see what I have found each year. This year’s shirts are extra-special because the money raised from the sale of them helps to support the adoption of a very special, soon-to-be-coming-home, Haitian Sensation. You too can buy one of these hand-made t-shirts at Kate’s Etsy Shop “Haiti To Home” (link here).
And then we got to where we were going. The Haiti Reunion. And all the build-up, and anticipatory off-the-wall excitement, and the year of waiting, suddenly, in an instant, all just centers in on the little tiny microcosm that is our entire world for one full day. Everybody is arriving, hugs and hugs and hugs, and quickly everything dissolves into that moment– and we are there, together, and it is as if we never left, and suddenly we are just picking up where we left off. The parents are catching up on a year’s worth of growth and grief and terrific achievements and tumultuous turbulence and parenting and family life and challenges and accomplishments and just soaking up what it feels like to be with other parents who really ‘get’ what it is to be a Haitian Adoptive Family. And the kids are off and running, and splashing, and climbing, and jumping, and they are like the best-case-scenario-of-the-cousins-you-always-wished-for-but-even-better, and the boys are just rippling with muscles and the girls are just ridiculously gorgeous and all of them are just so incredibly happy to just be together for this long-awaited-gathering-of-other kids who really ‘get’ what it is to be a Haitian Adoptive Family. There is a sort of quiet loudness to it all. And there is a calmness and a frenetic energy all at the same time. The parents are committed. The kids are incredible. Everyone is struggling and thriving all at the same time. And all year long we are different, but for one day we are the same. And in that day we really feel what it is to be in it together, and not alone.
We are reminded that there are other kids who were in Haitian orphanages who are now here. Kids who now have an excess of clean water — so much that they can play freely in it. We are reminded that there are other kids who know what it is like to be the white sister of a black brother. We are reminded that there are other parents who have chosen this journey — and are doing everything it takes to try to make the right turns. In sociology we have a word for what it is to have experiences like ours— it is called marginality. Kinship erases marginality, if even for a day, and makes us feel completely connected.
This year our reunion was in a new location. There was a creek.
And this year there was a feast of unbelievably delicious, homemade, Haitian food.
And there was a playground.
There was even a hayride!
And this is a snapshot of Owen on the hayride— If you know Owen in person, you might notice the look he has here. This is a look of:
- pure contentment
- centeredness
- happiness
- peacefulness
- what it feels like for our kids to be at the Haiti Reunion
This was not because of the hayride. Owen has been on hayrides before. This was because of the Haiti Reunion. It was because of the kinship he/we feel. It is powerful.
“L’Union Fait la Force” (in union there is power; in union there is the strength to overcome)
(Above right photo is so striking to me.) Our little boys have big boys to look up to– big boys who look like them and share the same roots with them.
Families are newly formed. (Below left photo: these two beauties were just adopted in May.) And it is tough. But kids can grow and thrive. (Bottom right photo: our boys, who used to be the youngest at the reunion, are now flourishing and thriving and right smack in the middle of the kids’ age spectrum.)
What struck me most this year was just how much our kids (not just our J-M kids, but all these kids) are growing and thriving. When we first started attending the reunion Kyle and Owen were three years old. The oldest kids then were 8-9 year olds. Now, six years later, the older kids are in the 14-year-old range. We’ve now got a whole subset of teenagers at our reunion. Somehow it really struck me this year that these kids aren’t going to be children for much longer. And it is totally exhilarating for me to think about it: what is going to become of them? Where will they go to college? Who will they marry? I have been so grateful to see them grow for these years– and I cannot wait to see what is soon-to-come. I am giddy at the thought of all of us celebrating each others’ kids’ graduations, and inevitable fantastic successes, and inviting each other to our kids’ weddings. Yes, there will be challenge, and pain, and grief, and heart-break. There always is. But the sheer happiness and goodness is there too.
This is pure joy.
It is a good, good thing.
Thank you, so much, to our dear beloved friends —
—No.
Thank you, so much, to our kin — our inner circle of Pennsylvania-area-Haitian-Adoptive-Families — for your fellowship, for your continued commitment to this yearly gathering, for your inspiration, for your kinship.
This has been a love letter to you. We love you deeply.
Love,
The J-Ms.
Kyle and Owen were mesmerized by Isaac’s answer to their question— you can see it here:
We love this kid-to-kid-international-video-blogosphere-thing! ‘Pen’pals of the modern era!
We have been reading the Livesay Haiti Weblog for years. This video contains a question from Kyle and Owen for Isaac Livesay’s summer project — “Ask Isaac” (click here). In case you are in need translation after watching, here it is in writing–
“Dear Isaac: We were adopted just like you. We were born in Haiti. We are 8 years old. We live in Pennsylvania in the United States. Someday (hopefully pretty soon!) we want to go back to Haiti to visit. What is your advice for what we should be sure to definitely do while we are there!? Also, we’d be thrilled if we could meet you when we come to Haiti! Love, Kyle and Owen Johnson-McCormick.”
Our dear friend Gaby came yesterday for an overnight visit. It was so good to spend time with her. We had such a great time playing, eating, and drinking. There is just nothing like old friends.
And, sorry, but I just have to brag on her a little tiny bit. In addition to all of the other amazing things she is currently doing with her life (including, for example, her highly important work at a very prestigious school; coaching; and regular trips to lead volunteer work in Africa), Gaby was stopping at our house on her way back from — get this! — racing in the 400 Meter Master’s Exhibition at the U.S. Olympic Trials. She placed 6th. Which means that in the entire United States of America Gaby is the 6th fastest female age-40-and-over in the 400 Meter. Awesomeness!
(You can see a picture of Gaby running at the recent Olympic Trials by clicking here — she is on the far left!)
Summer at the halfway mark, and we are deep into the thick of it. Summer soccer (photo above) gives us a little bit of a routine– two steamy hot nights a week our little athletes rock the soccer field while us other three J-Ms cheer them on from the sidelines. It is just enough of a ‘schedule’ to keep us on our toes. The rest of the time — at least for the bambinos — is purposefully unstructured. And the desired effect has begun to take root: summer boredom has started to set in. This is a good thing. It gives them time to let their minds wander, gets their creative juices flowing, and allows them the space to soak up every little bit of summer.
Summer, to me, feels like a delicious treat, that we only get once a year, so I always feel compelled to try to make the very most of it. Especially for my kids. I want them to taste every bite, savor every morsel, and lick the plate clean.
I want summer to settle into their souls to sustain them for another big year. I see that year coming — I’m already scheduling fall piano lessons for Owen, a regular babysitter for Meera (her preschool program this year will only be three days a week), and I just ordered new Wrap-n-Mats for school lunch boxes — but I try to buffer them from that looming-start-date where we’ll begin-it-all-all-over-again. For now, my most important job is to keep them firmly in the grips of summer.
Summer days of so many hours in the pool that skin is pruney, eyes are bloodshot, and every possible jump, dive, and underwater trick has been attempted.
Bikes and scooters and sidewalk chalk are in full use in the driveway. Toys and games that have gone unused for months have been rediscovered. The basket that holds our bandaids and Neosporin is pulled off the shelf at least once a day.
When I’m at home during the day they pester me incessantly — and I do mean incessantly — and I repeat my mantra over and over and over, “Go play!” But every 5 minutes or so, one of them is there again, asking for yet another snack, begging to play with the iPad, tattle-taling on their sibling, and generally acting agitated and bored. They never dare say, “I’m bored,” but they sure come close, and they drive me absolutely to the brink of insanity until… finally…. they eventually settle in. It is hard to settle into summer — with its relatively very slow pace and its unscheduled days. But inevitably, just when I think I might truly lose my mind, sure enough they sink into it. Without my help they find something to engage in. And the result is deliriously good as I see them get lost in their own worlds, deep inside their imaginations, doing summer just beautifully.
A lot of it is like a summer haze in my mind’s eye. But there are moments of crystal clear clarity. Like watching them run across the yard chasing fireflies at dusk. In pajamas and bare feet, running to me to show off their fistfuls of fireflies in their grubby little hands.
Summer is slower all around. The boys come down a notch. They are still over-the-top with their levels of energy and sheer commotion. But I do notice them easing up a bit on life. At a stop sign in the car the other day I saw this in the back seat (photo below). I turned around to take a picture and caught it before they even noticed me focusing in on them. This is a perfect summer scene– my boys, slowed down just a little.
And for Meera there seems to be a little extra time in the day to stretch out a bit. I can say ‘yes’ when she asks me to read a book to her at the kitchen counter while we wait for her omelet to cook.
And there is summer food too. It is a sensory reminder that we are in a special season.
Easy dinners on the deck.
And little bits of time here and there where we can steal one-on-one time for various reasons. A lunch out with Kyle while running errands; some time to chat with Meera while the boys play soccer. These little bits nourish us.
This is summer at the halfway mark. Soon I’ll probably get desperate for the school year to start so we can get back into a “normal routine.” For now, I’m trying my best to sustain — and savor — the non-routine; to be truly in the summer moment (despite a million things on my mind); to make the most of this season; to give them summers that will be good building blocks in their foundations.
I’m starting to get sentimental about moving. Our move-date is coming quickly, and now — just about a month out — I can feel myself trying to get us to soak up as much as we can of the things I know we’ll miss. We have this amazing little ice cream shop 8 minutes down the road from us. The ice cream they make is unbelievably good, all organic, and they heavily rely on small local farms for their ingredients. The place is such a treat. We’ll probably visit it every-once-in-a-while once we move, but it won’t be the same as having it close enough that we can spontaneously spring for ice cream after supper on a hot summer night. We will miss OwowCow.
I hate to complain, I really do, because our life is so very, very, very fully richly good. But every once in a while, I just need to be completely real about just how totally ridiculously exhausted I sometimes am. Because someday I’m going to look back at this old blog and I’ll want to remember the whole spectrum.
We have had 3 house showings in the past 5 days. One Friday, one Sunday, and one today. It is totally exhausting. I’m sure anyone who has ever tried to sell their house, By Owner, while living it, with three kids, during summer (i.e., kids are home all day so the house does not stay neat/clean for more than 5 minutes), while also fully in the throws of sorting/purging/packing/preparing-for-a-major-move-and-drastic-downsizing, while also in a full-time-dual-career situation, while also trying to make the most of summer (and trying to make the most of our last summer in this house), completely understands what I’m talking about here… seriously… it is INSANE. Totally exhausting. If I let myself sit still for more than 10 minutes in a row, I fall asleep.
P.S. for those wondering— over the past couple of months we’ve had lots of showings (which is good), but no offers (which is bad). Which all just adds to the very high levels of stress/anxiety/exhaustion.
This year us J-Ms were away in Colorado for Maggie & Eric’s wedding over the weekend during which much of the USA celebrated the 4th of July. So, we hosted our traditional 4th of July with my side of the family the following weekend. 4 days of “4th” festivities which included:
- A perfect heat wave just in time for a string of perfect pool days.
- By far MorFar’s biggest and best fireworks display ever!
- The traditional sparklers and snaps.
- A quickly developing relatively newer tradition — doing a puzzle — reveals the uber-intensity of the Johnson side of the family (!).
- A couple of Saturday morning “appointments” at “Meera’s Make-Up Salon.”
- Ice cream at OwWowCow.
- Glow sticks in the pool at night (does anyone else do this?! super fun to do!).
- Dinner out at K,O,M’s favorite restaurant– hibachi at Kome.
- And of course lotsa lotsa pool time & lotsa lotsa good food and drink!
When they all left this year it was bittersweet. Sweet because we had a great time. Bitter because this was our last time hosting the 4th of July at this house. One of the very best things about this house is how great it is for hosting guests… especially in the summer… and our 4th of Julys are the epitome of that! We will miss that. A lot.
Us J-Ms dream of keeping on hosting the 4th of July for the Johnson side of the family… so now we just cross our fingers and hope that they’ll keep on coming each year when we invite them… to wherever we are… for the 4ths in our future! (And when they come, we like to make it worth the trip, in hopes they will come back next year!)
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