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On the 10th Day of Christmas…

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…my true loves gave to me…

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Cousins Time!!!

A long Christmas trip in New Hampshire means plenty of time with Cousin Sadie! The bambinos love their cousin, and their cousin loves the bambinos. They are non-stop fun together. This morning Braydon and I took these four cousins to swim at The Mill at Purity Spring (just down the road from MorMor and MorFar’s house). Much swimming and splashing were enjoyed by all. This afternoon (while Meera napped), the three eldest cousins had a long hike with MorMor and MorFar. Peppered in amongst their very active activities these kids also manage to create all sorts of artistic masterpieces (ranging from letters to Santa to full-scale dramatic productions of “Shows!” complete with singing and dancing and charging-for-admission), cause quite a ruckus, laugh up a storm, and have a generally-very-good-time. Christmas wouldn’t be Christmas without Sadie.

On the 9th Day of Christmas…

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…my true loves gave to me…

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Skiing at Bretton Woods!

This was our 2nd Annual Day at Bretton Woods. This day was much anticipated by K & O, who had been waiting for it for exactly one whole year. We were very worried when the weather report was for rain, but, given the level of excitement, we could not — under any circumstances — forgo this day trip. So, we left Meera at home with MorMor and MorFar and the Original Four J-Ms hit the slopes at our favorite mountain. We had some snow flurries early in the day, but then it did indeed rain for most of the afternoon (imagine! skiing in the rain!!!). Despite that, for the 2nd year in a row, it was an AWESOME day and there was not one complaint from any of the four of us.

Highlights from this year’s Day at Bretton Woods:

  • This year Owen mastered the art of The Parallel Turn. This, to me, is just amazing given that: a) he is only seven years old, and b) he only skis two or three days a year. Early in the morning Braydon gave him some pointers on parallel turns, and he proceeded to focus intensely on his technique for most of the rest of the day. Carefully, rhythmically, winding his way down the mountain in a perfect zig-zag pattern, Owen is a joy to watch on skis!
  • This year Kyle mastered the art of Bombing Down The Mountain So Fast That His Parents Could Barely Keep Up With Him. Seriously, we had to work extremely hard (and our sore bodies are the proof of it) just to try to keep up with this kid. He is fearless, a speed demon, and is ridiculously dare-devilish, constantly on the prowl for a ski jump to hurl him into the air. Bombing down the hill at mock speed, but in utter control of himself, Kyle is a joy to watch on skis!
  • We had lunch at the restaurant at the top of the mountain again this year (K & O love that we “ride the chairlift to the restaurant!”), and the boys got to order Coca Cola — a very rare and savored treat!
  • Keeping with the tradition we began last year (because K & O insisted), we met up with MorMor and MorFar and Meera at Red Parka Pub for dinner at the end of the day. My parents’ god-daughter, Betsey, joined us too.
  • This was our second year at Bretton Woods, but our fifth year skiing with K & O, and each year it just gets more and more fun.

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On the 8th Day of Christmas…

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…my true loves gave to me…

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Meera’s First Day Skiing!!!

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My mother. She makes our Christmases happen. She makes everything happen. She’s the quintessential Family Matriarch (in the best possible way). And today she taught Meera to ski. She taught Kyle and Owen to ski too (the winter they were three). And she taught me to ski too (the winter I was three). She is AMAZING. Today was incredible– watching my mom with my daughter, on the slopes, both of them with huge smiles plastered on their faces, skiing together. My mom cheering on Braydon as he gently pushed his baby girl forward on the snow. Kyle and Owen, bursting with pride at their sister’s first day on skiis. My dad, watching on in amazement at my 60-something mother, as she did what she does best: be amazing. All of us, having an absolute blast together. Three generations skiing together. One of our most favorite annual Christmas traditions. Words can’t do it justice, so I’ll post pictures instead.

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On the 7th Day of Christmas…

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…my true loves gave to me…

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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.

On the 6th Day of Christmas…

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…my true loves gave to me…

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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.

On the 5th Day of Christmas…

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…my true loves gave to me…

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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.

On the 3rd Day of Christmas…

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…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”

On the 2nd Day of Christmas…

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…my true loves gave to me…

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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!

Crash and Burn

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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

Technical Difficulties

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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.

Celebrating Adoption: Instilling Haitian Pride

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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”:

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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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Celebrating Adoption: Attachment Both Ways (and the "Things We Did" post)

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aFebruary 10, 2005 – just a couple of weeks into familyhood

Four years ago I wrote a big post on the topic of: “Things We Did In the Very Beginning with Kyle and Owen” (click here for the link). For a long while that post was the most visited post on our blog. And then, somewhere along the way, other posts took over in the top tier of ‘Most Viewed’ in our site stats and the “Things We Did” post got lost deep in the blog archives, rarely to be viewed again. All along the way, though, whenever prospective adoptive families or waiting families have emailed me for insight or advice, I’ve sent them to that post.

I wrote that post in January of 2007, when Kyle and Owen were just two years old, and Meera wasn’t even born yet. When I re-read the “Things We Did” post (which I do from time to time), what always strikes me most is how, if I were to re-write it today, four years deeper into parenting, I’d probably write the same thing– but just add more to it. My core thoughts and feelings about attachment in adoption have been relatively unwavering, despite the ups and downs and ebbs and flows of the past seven years of my experience of motherhood. However, I’ve learned a lot along the way.

If you were to ask me what the most important piece of my own adoption experience has been, I’d say this: what I’ve learned, above all else, is that attachment is a two-way-street. In the “Things We Did” post I wrote: “…Attachment goes both ways. It isn’t just a matter of the baby attaching to the parent, but of the parent attaching to the baby too.” Now, seven years in, I feel that in my heart, and think that in my mind, more than ever. As I reflect on our own experience of adoption, live out the present-day real-life living of being an adoptive family, and witness other adoptive families, I know it more than ever: attachment goes both ways. And just as it is challenging (to say the least) for a child to attach to a parent, it is challenging for a parent to attach to a child.

So, what are the things that we can do, as parents, to purposefully and deliberately and intentionally build attachment to our children? This is something I’ve been thinking a lot about in more recent years. In the early phases of my life as an adoptive mother (particularly while planning our adoption, going through the actual adoption process, waiting for Kyle and Owen, and then the first few weeks of bringing them home), I was so focused on K & O that I thought almost exclusively about attachment as a one-way thing. But as our bond began to grow, I consciously thought more and more about how I was attaching to them. By the end of the first couple of months I was very conscientiously understanding the attachment process as a two-way street; as a bond that goes both ways. And while some of the bond can (and often does) happen organically, some can (and often does) require hard work on both sides.

If I go through the “Things We Did” post, I can now see how each of the things we did to foster Kyle and Owen’s attachment to us also fostered our attachment to them. For example (from that post):

  • ‘We didn’t let anyone but us feed them.’ I could easily argue that in us, exclusively, feeding them, we attached to them just as much as they to us.
  • ‘We worked on having eye contact.’ By forcing ourselves to hold eye contact with our babies, we laid down the building blocks of our own attachment to our children.
  • ‘Other cues for attachment with babies that we used constantly: rubbing cheeks, and rubbing the inner palms of hands.’ I can remember doing these things, especially in the beginning, because I knew these were healthy attachment cues. But I can vividly remember my own experience of these things as profound: the feeling of their soft skin, the fine lines in the skin of their palms, studying the exact color of their cheeks, noticing the tininess of their vulnerable powerful little hands compared to mine. In doing these things “for” my babies, I also attached myself to them as their mother.
  • ‘In the beginning we held the boys non-stop.’ Again, we did this under the premise that it was for them. Looking back now, I see how much this benefitted our own attachment to them.
  • And it goes on and on…  I can literally go through the “Things We Did” post item by item and see – now – how each thing we did to foster our boys’ attachment to us, also fostered our own attachment to them—  ‘We slept on the floor in their room’; ‘We didn’t let anyone visit’; ‘We made a big production about what a “home” is’; etc.

What I know now, more than ever, is that our own attachment to Kyle and Owen is just as important as their attachment to us. Of course I knew this, theoretically. But it is another thing to experience it, conscientiously. Attachment is a bond. A bond that goes both ways. And it isn’t always easy to bond with a child. Attachment can be challenging in the best (and most traditional) of family circumstances. But add adoption to the mix and chances are it is going to be even more challenging. Layer on things like wet infectious smelling snotty runny noses, or horrific parasite-induced diarrhea diaper explosions, or defiant testing-the-limits kicking punching pinching spitting… and factor in that you literally just met this little person, and they don’t resemble you in any physical way whatsoever, and they smell completely unfamiliar, and you have no idea their rhythms, routines, or rituals… and seriously… it is challenging. Attaching to a child can take a lot of work. Hard work. Hard work that nearly nobody acknowledges or even recognizes. But hard work that – I believe – really needs to be done in order to pave the way for a healthy family.

And so, four years after I wrote the “Things We Did” post, I can see more clearly how much work Braydon and I really did. I don’t write this to pat us on the backs (not at all, trust me). Rather, I write it because I think that while this “attachment-as-a-two-way-street”-thing might seem obvious, in my own experience I have found that it isn’t actually brought up to the surface very often – even in the adoptive family community. And so I write this to surface it. I also write it so that from this point on, whenever prospective adoptive families or waiting families email me for insight or advice, I can send them to the “Things We Did” post, but also link them to here. Because I think my biggest insight from my own experience with adoption is that purposeful intentional attachment – both ways – is key, and that this is critically important for adoptive families, and for those who are trying to support them, to recognize and acknowledge.

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