…my true loves gave to me…
Fun at MorMor and MorFar’s House!
My father. Anyone who knows him knows how adored, revered, and held-up-high this man is. As the result of a stellar career (that is still going at full tilt), a lifetime of community service (his resume of commitment to social, political, and environmental causes boggles the mind), and mentoring to the masses (and I do mean masses), my father is beloved by many. Despite the sheer numbers, I’ve known my whole life that nobody could compete with my own level of love for my dad. And for most of my life I’ve thought that no one could ever be-love my father more than me, but then I became a mom, and my kids have proven me wrong. They are gaga for MorFar; just smitten with him; and I have to admit that their adoration for him is fully on par with their mother’s. I observe them from a distance, interacting with their MorFar, and the look that I see in their eyes is a familiar one. I know it well, and I know what I see: three kids who absolutely adore my dad. And so they savor their time with him, eagerly attempt to emulate him, and seek his attention in a way that you’d have to see to believe. And he returns the love with a graciousness that is truly inspiring to see. He is free-flowing with his time and talents, his jokes and laughter, his patience, and his seemingly boundless energy. He is the one who gets down on the floor and plays dolls with Meera; talks baseball for hours with Kyle and Owen; plays dog-catcher when they all become barking puppies; and jumps on his tractor first thing in the morning to drive them around the field at full speed. The spirit of Christmas is perfectly embedded in moments like these.
…my true loves gave to me…
The Bambinos Ready for Our Magic of Christmas Day
This was the Portland Symphony Orchestra’s 32nd year of their Magic of Christmas concert. My parents bought tickets for our family the very first year. We’ve gone every single year since (with only one exception; we skipped it a couple decades ago on the year they were renovating the concert hall). I’ve been going since I was Kyle and Owen’s current age. They’ve gone every year of their lives except for their first Christmas (only because they were still in Haiti). Meera has gone since she was born. Braydon has gone since he met me. The Magic of Christmas kicks off the whole chain of events which is The Johnson Christmas Festivities. As is tradition, we met for lunch at Gilbert’s before the concert. MorMor, MorFar, Auntie Stina, Sadie, Uncle Mark, Alice, and us five J-Ms launched our Christmas together over seafood chowder on the Portland waterfront. Then it was onward to this year’s Magic of Christmas concert, which was the best yet. The day ended with the final leg of the pilgrimage — the drive to MorMor and MorFar’s house — then the grand arrival to their cozy Christmas house that literally looks like a film set for a Christmas-movie-in-the-making. There is magic in our Christmas. We are so lucky.
…my true loves gave to me…
The Christmas Road-trip!
After weeks of planning, prepping, on-line shopping, and To-Do-list-checking; days of anxious anticipation building and mounting; several very late nights of making, wrapping, organizing, preparing, and packing; and a big push in the final 48 hours pre-departure; this morning, bright and early, we HIT THE ROAD right on schedule! With three beaming bambinos in the backseat we embarked on our J-M Family Christmas Extravaganza! Plowing forward through the string of states of our northernly migration (oh, they know the order so well: “Pennsylvania! New Jersey! New York! Connecticut! Massachusetts! New Hampshire!”… we cheer like crazy at each highway-side sign marking our entrance into a more northward state!… and finally… Maine!). Driving along our three eat special snacks and watch DVDs while we two up front talk non-stop about life’s ups and downs, this year’s Christmas, and the ritualistic nature of it all.
All day long it is, “Merry Christmas!”, “Merry Christmas!”, “Merry Christmas!” back and forth amongst us five. And it is very clear: Christmas, for us, is not just a day, it is a whole experience.
We check into the hotel in Portland, swim in the pool, then order room service and a movie. Once they are tucked in I can’t help but marvel at our threesome, and wonder what they’ll remember of their childhood Christmases. So much work to make this magic happen. But so worth it when it all unfolds with humungous smiles on their faces and stars in their eyes.
…my true loves gave to me…
Meera’s Daycare Christmas Show!
…my true loves gave to me…
Dear Santa Letters 2011!
“Dear Santa, I have been good. Can you please give me a basketball pinball game. I hope you have a good time eating cookies! I will give you a present!!!! Love Kyle”
“Dear Santa, I have been really good this year. Can you give me a baseball pinball game please? Can I look through your glasses please? Is that how you see everyone? Enjoy your cookies! I hope you come to our house first. Me and Kyle will give you a present! Love Owen. You rock Santa”
…my true loves gave to me…
Nothing like curling up with a good book: I buy a new Christmas book each year, and this year’s is a real winner! We highly recommend Christmas Soup, by Alice Faye Duncan and Phyllis Dooley, illustrated by Jan Spivey Gilchrist (published by Zonderkids 2005).
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And on that note– here’s a link to an oldie-but-goodie-post-from-the-past: “White Christmases for Black Boys”
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And speaking of that– you’ve got to check out this article, by Lori Tharps, from today’s Philadelphia Inquirer (in which us J-Ms are mentioned!): “A Bit of Home for the Holidays: Blending Adopted Child’s Cultural Heritage into Family Traditions”
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Merry merry merry!
…my true loves gave to me…
All dressed up, with somewhere to go: one of our favorite annual traditions– the Kulp Family’s Holiday Party! (check out those cheesy grins!)
Note left from Owen to me recently, on the garage door, on one of my (many) late nights at work (i.e., the kids were long in bed once I got home, thanks to my amazing husband): “Welcome home. I hope that work was really good. Owen”
Update from the land of Never-Dull-Moments: Since my last post, “Technical Difficulties,” things have gotten much worse because, A) my technical difficulties have not been dealt with [i.e., I have not mastered blogging via Mac at all], since, B) I’ve been trying to wrap up the most intense [work load] semester of my 10-year professing career while also trying to do what needs to be done to make Christmas [which is looming ever so closely on the horizon] happen for my family of five, and, because, most importantly, C) Friday I crashed and burned. I mean, really, crashed and burned.
It has been six months since I’ve been sick (hooray!), and while every other member of the J-M family was sick at some point this fall (boo!), I was spared. I take great pride in this given that for the 18 months prior to those past 6 I was pretty much non-stop sick. Anywhooo (ah! “Whoville”; The Grinch Who Stole Christmas!; we watched it this past weekend and I just love that Cindy-Lou-Who!)… anyway… as I was saying… I have not been sick for 6 months, but I got sick Friday. It is no coincidence that Thursday I finished my Last-Class-of-the-Semester (Graduate Social Theory; they had their presentations Thursday night and class ran FIVE hours long; no joke!), and I also finished a Huge-6-Month-Long-Project (my first time Chairing a Search Committee; OMG). I called Braydon, at 9:45pm Thursday, walking from class to my car, and told him, in a state of euphoria, that “it is done! this FLIPPIN’ semester is DONE!” He had a cosmo waiting for me upon my 10:15pm arrival home (another 14 hour work day in a looooooooooong string of them spanning September through December). I went to bed dreaming of the days ahead of Christmas prep (work, yes, but FUN work!), making Christmas crafts with Meera (all fun!), catching up with my boys (all fun!), etc. And then… I woke up Friday morning… sick as a dog. It was the classic Crash and Burn (burn, literally, as in feverish burning up achy all over and the whole nine yards).
The past few days have been tough around here. But today I dragged myself into our angelic family doctor, who promptly diagnosed me and put me on heavy duty antibiotics and things are on the up-and-up now with a prognosis for more energy in the days ahead. More energy to be Santa, more energy to fully wrap up this semester (grading! deadlines for projects! final over-scheduled week of the semester! etc!), more energy to overcome the Technical Difficulties standing in the way of my blogging.
This is all to say: things are gonna get better, people, I just know it!
However, I am way behind on blogging, and therefore, I have made an executive decision that I will not be able to finish up Adoption Week (instead, I will do more of those Adoption posts that have been clanking around in my head in January around our Adoption Day). Instead, I’ll just move forward with blogging as usual in the days to come (hopefully!).
Thank you for your patience. And, as always, thank you for reading!
Signing off, to try to get some sleep (it is, after all, 11:03pm, and I do have a sinus infection, and I do have to be up at the crack of dawn with 3 bambinos tomorrow),
Your loyal blogger,
~Heather
Amidst everything else that is going on (and believe me, a LOT is going on; ‘Tis the Season!; and this is, after all, Crunch Time #2 of our Triannual Crunch)… I am now trying to get my bearings with a new computer (which is wreaking havoc on my current blogging capacity since I am probably the least tech-savvy-blogger in the whole entire blogosphere). My computer had been on the fritz for several weeks now, but then became unbearable in recent days as it began totally freaking out on me. Braydon convinced me to go back to a Mac (I had been using non-Apples for the past few years), and although I’m accustomed to iPhone, iPod, and iPad, I’m having a hard time transitioning my blogging over to the new sweet-Apple-computer. (New photo editing programs and processes; new blog editing programs and processes; new everything blog-related.) I will figure it all out and things will be smooth again, eventually. But right now I’m struggling to get a grip. And given the horrible timing (Crunch Time), it throws everything into a big blogging mess. Sorry! I’ll do my best to get up and running ASAP.
Instilling in Kyle and Owen a deep and wide pride in being Haitian-American has been one of my central parenting goals, from the very beginning, in being an adoptive mama. For so many reasons I want them to grow up being proud to be Haitian. This is something that is right at the surface of my mind all the time. Most days I feel like there is just never enough I can do in this arena. But then, every once in a while, something happens that tells me that we’re on the right track.
This fall Kyle came home from school with this “self-portrait and auto-biography”:
It warmed my heart and soul.
At age 7, Kyle and Owen are proud to have been adopted. And they are proud to be Haitian. Meera, at age 3, is proud to be their sister. I know those things for sure, and these are things that make me very, very, very proud of them.
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