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MorFar & Meera on the 4th of July

My family has had a tough year. That’s the understatement of the year. Just over a year ago my cousin Karen (my parents’ god daughter) was diagnosed with colon cancer; right at the same I gave birth to Meera via emergency c-section; 12 weeks later Karen died of colon cancer; 6 weeks after that her brother–my other cousin–took his own life; soon after my sister went through a separation from her long time partner (my niece’s father); and then my dad was diagnosed with prostate cancer. It has all been a lot. And for a lot of reasons it has been especially a lot for my parents. But it is what it is. And here we are.

Today my dad is having surgery to remove his prostate. This is the treatment option that he and my mom chose. I am so thankful to him for being willing to do this for all of us — with this route he is guaranteed to be “cancer free” by the end of the day. We will breathe a deep sigh of relief to know that it is no longer in his body. And then we’ll do whatever we need to do to support his full recovery.

Up until now we have been a very healthy bunch, with no major health crises, and my father –in particular– has always been extremely healthy. He’s a rock to many. And nobody is accustomed to seeing him in any way vulnerable. My parents have a million friends and loved ones (literally… that is who they are… if you know them, you know that about them)… and that fact made Braydon feel even more honored when they chose him — out of everyone — to be the one person there with them at the hospital today and tonight. He is the right person to play this role for so many reasons.

Today, if you’re reading this blog, please send up prayers and hopes and thoughts and positive meditations that my dad gets through this all o.k., that my mom has the strength and fortitude to get through it too, and that Braydon can give them the solace and peace that they need during the moments that they need them.

MorFar is the best. And we need him around for a long, long time. Prayers and good vibes are much appreciated right now as we walk this part of our path. Thanks for reading, ~hbj

Meera at age 13 months– The good, the bad, and the ugly.

First, the good:
Um, seriously people– is it normal for babies to be able to eat with forks at age 13 months? She’s been doing this for a couple of weeks now. She eats with a fork. For real. What’s up with that? K & O didn’t do that ’till they were twice her age. And really, who am I kidding?– they still often “forget their manners” (they “left them in their pockets” they are fond of saying) and eat with their hands. This girl prefers the fork. ? Do I just have unreasonably low expectations because my only prior experience with mothering is with my two crazy little men? Or is this girl doing something out of the ordinary here? She uses a fork very well and with ease. She seems to actually prefer the fork to eating with her hands. She doesn’t mind getting her hands dirty (more on that under, “the ugly”), it is more that she prefers the challenge of the fork. And she’s pretty much mastered that challenge at this point. Not sure what to make of it. But it is all good.

The bad:
At age 13 months we finally had to lower the crib down from the upper deck “newborn infant setting.” Yes, folks, she slept in it at the newborn level for the full first 13 months of her life. She just laid there and never even rolled over until she was well into her 11th month. I know, I know, it is bizarre. It wasn’t until this week– yes, this week— that she showed any signs of desiring to pull up. On Tuesday Margie told me that she thought we should lower the crib because she was going to pull up “any day now.” So, on Wednesday Braydon lowered the crib. And today (Thurs), when I went to get her after her afternoon non-nap (nap that she did not take because she was having too much fun in her crib for the first time ever)… this is what I found. Yup, standing there in all her glory. Our previously-perfect-sleeper screaming her head off because she couldn’t figure out for the life of her how to get herself back down. And at bedtime tonight she screamed, bloody murder, standing up over and over and over again (after I went in and laid her back down over and over and over again), for a full 1.5 hours before she finally fell asleep. Our good girl’s first bad behavior. The tide has turned. Of course, it couldn’t have lasted, but still… it is so monumentally sad. Anyway… back to the afternoon nap today… so I found her screaming, standing up in her crib, which is in itself so bad (because she was supposed to be sleeping), but making matters worse was that she had pulled the ponytail/elastic band out of her hair for the first time ever…. and…. the elastic band was nowhere to be found (I searched and searched and searched). Which leaves me to believe (because there is no other explanation) that she ate it. Nice. So, from this bad experience I learned three things: 1) Always take the elastic bands out before putting her down for a nap, and 2) Always listen to Margie [thank God we had], and 3) Meera’s got a bad streak after all. It was bound to happen. But still… couldn’t we just go on all bliss and innocence forever???

Lastly, the ugly:
We’re convinced she gets this from Owen, but wherever it comes from, it is just plain ugly: her terribly, terribly messy-eating-ways. We did not think that there could possibly be any human being on the planet that was more messy at mealtime than our Owen. But, alas! There is Meera Grace. She rivals Owen in the messy eating department. A simple bagel and cream cheese results in extreme mess. And that, believe me, is just the very very tip of the messy-messy-iceburg. It is not pretty. Not pretty at all.

So, there you have it: the good, the bad, and the ugly.

I keep a notebook on my desk next to my computer at home. On one of the pages I keep a list of things that I want to blog about. These aren’t day-to-day quick-and-easy what-we’re-up-to blog posts, they are ideas that I want to write about that will take more time than a quickie-upload-some-photos-and-be-done-with-it post. I just now counted the topics on that list– there are currently 28. And that is just what is jotted down there (doesn’t include all the stuff bouncing around in my head). Life is just moving way too fast. I hear about people who can’t think of what to write about on their blogs; people who struggle to come up with stuff. Around here, trust me, there is no lack of blogging material. In fact, the sheer bulk of blog material is totally overwhelming at times. Times like right now.

I’ve been doing this regularly since K & O were about 18 months old. If you have little kids who love pizza, and you aren’t doing this yet, start now!– it is a winner!!! K & O, and now Meera too, love “Baby Pizzas.” I make them in big batches (like, tonight, I made 3 dozen). You can do it however you like, of course, but I use whole-grain English Muffins, chunky veggie tomato sauce, and whole milk shredded mozzarella. I freeze them on sheet pans with wax paper beneath them (just like they are above); once they are frozen solid I then remove them from the sheet pans/wax paper and put bunches of them together into zip-loc bags and store in the freezer. Then they are ready to pull out at a moment’s notice for quick dinners, lunches, or snacks. While they are heating up in the toaster oven we can quickly put together a little side dish. Tonight Owen tossed baby greens and croutons in the boys’ favorite Caesar dressing.
Add a glass of milk, and voila! a really simple, relatively healthy supper that all three of the J-M bambinos LOVE. As always, I’d be thrilled for you to leave your comments — what are you doing lately for quick and easy kid-tested and parent-approved meals?

Today our very dear (dearest of dear) friends, Roxann-Clifton-and-Catherine came by for a visit. They live in Massachusetts now, but have family in Georgia, and stopped here in Pennsylvania on their way through. Roxann is my old friend from college… one of my best friends in the world… a true sister-friend who has stood the test of time. We were at each other’s grad/law school graduations. We were in each other’s weddings. Her daughter is our God Daughter. And we’ve been there in between every milestone too. We’ve weathered the storms. We’ve seen each other change and stay the same. And now, we go for long stretches of time without seeing each other. But then we get together and -BAM!- it is as if we saw each other the day before and every other day before that. The funniest thing is that now, amazingly, and wonderfully, it is just the same with our kids!!!!?! Catherine, Kyle, and Owen are like 3 peas in a pod, like old old friends who –despite time and distance– don’t skip a beat when they get together… Maybe they get that from their mothers? But maybe there’s more to it too. We’re raising spirited, full-of-it, larger-than-life kids… and they have a kinship with each other that is easy, breezy, and wonderous. I won’t go on and on about it. Suffice it to say, it is very cool. It is also very cool to see K & O meet their match with a girl who has no problem showing them who’s boss! Granted, Catherine is two years older than them, but still… this girl knows her stuff. She knows how to get these two going while also keeping them wrapped around her little finger. And that is more than I can say for most all of their other peers. And I just gotta say: I love watching it!!!! The energy of the three of them goes through the rooof. Like Roxaan said today, spending an hour with them is like spending an hour with 30 kids (not 3). And, really, it is so true. Gosh, we love these old friends. Tonight, when we were eating dinner, Kyle and Owen were asking me about how long I’ve been friends with Roxann. They know we’re old friends from college, but they wanted to know exactly how old. Braydon and I had to think about it a bit and then we did the math and it totally shocked me— Roxann and I have been friends for 18 years… which is how old we were when we met. CRAZY. In another year we’ll have been friends for more years of our lives than we weren’t. I hope that Kyle and Owen (and soon enough Meera too) will learn from us that old friends are as good as gold. It is important to make new friends, but it is just as important to keep the old. Love you Rox (I know you’re reading). xoxo

Even though Meera slept through the visit from Roxann-Clifton-and-Catherine (because she took one of her marathon 3.5 hour naps), she is –of course– never to be forgotten. Later in the day we went to the Tinicum Arts Festival, where Meera was happy to take it all in from aboard her mode-of-transportation-of-choice: the backpack. (she likes it so much she even says the word –one of her first 20 words– “ba pa”/’backpack’). She had a bottle of her fav: organic whole milk… while the rest of us had fresh squeezed lemonade and fresh brewed iced coffee. While K & O watched magicians and kissed monkeys (for real), Little Miss just observed it all from her perch high above. This girl doesn’t miss a beat, but she doesn’t necessarily need to be in the center of it all like her brothers do. While her bro’s need to be right in the middle, she’s just fine with being a tad bit above the fray.
Later, after arriving home, we set her free in the comfort of her own yard. Where she went crazy with her latest trick: walking. She loves walking. And she’s uber-proud of herself for being able to walk. The other four members of her family seem to have a love-hate relationship with her walking… we love it because she so clearly loves it, but we hate it because it means our little tiny baby is movin’ on up in the world (and why oh why can’t she remain our little baby bundle forever????????)
But really, with a smile like this, what’s not to love?!

A few weeks ago Owen and I had an “Alone Time” afternoon. We try to do “Alone Time” (K & O apart from each other) with Kyle and Owen whenever we can (although it is never often enough), and it is always very special for both us and them. Being a twin has got to be really tough in some ways– and the constant togetherness is definitely one of the hard parts. Anyway, Owen and I were going to go out to lunch at Cosi and then spend some time at the bookstore. As we were pulling into the Cosi parking lot Owen starts literally jumping up and down in his carseat in the backseat. He’s saying/screaming, “MOMMY! LOOK! LOOK! LOOK MOMMY! LOOK!!!” And he’s pointing maniacally out of the back window. I look and what do I see walking through the parking lot near us?–but a white woman holding a black baby boy! (clearly not bi-racial and it very much appeared from the way there were together that it was a mom-and-baby). Owen is yelling, “Quick! Hurry up and park it!! Quick Mommy! LET’S GO!!!” I parked as fast as we could and we high tailed it out of the car. Walking/running through the parking lot Owen says to me, “That is so interesting!!! They just look very, very interesting to me!!! It is just so interesting!” Sure enough the woman and baby were just entering the Cosi ahead of us. I asked Owen if he thought we should go meet them, and he definitely wanted to. Holding hands Owen and I walked up to them. I will admit, it was a bit nerve-wracking, but it just felt totally necessary; we see families like ours (specifically, white parents with black [non-bi-racial kids]) so rarely, and Owen was so extremely “interested” (and I couldn’t blame him). I initiated the contact but then Owen immediately took over… asking the mom right away what the baby’s name was, what her name was, and then — without any hesitation, “Did he grow in your belly?” She took it in stride (I could tell immediately that I loved her!), and she answered all of his questions perfectly and without hesitation. He asked if the baby had been adopted, and from where, and how old he was when he came home, and how old he is now. He told her that he had been adopted, that he also has a twin brother who was adopted too, and that they have a baby sister who grew in their mommy’s belly. Owen adored the little baby boy right from the start and I adored the mom. We exchanged contact info, have been emailing back-and-forth since, and last night we all got together for dinner (and lotsa margaritas) at our house. I have a feeling we’ll be great friends.

K & O rarely spend a lot of energy on their artwork (and believe me, it shows!). But on Thursday afternoon, when I told them it was “time to draw!!!” (as cheery as can be, because I keep on trying, regularly, even though I almost never get any real artsy spunk out of them), surprisingly, the artistic spirit moved them and I found them suddenly spending a large chunk of time (like, at least 20 minutes solid) working on these drawings. They both said they were drawing “the 4th of July.” When probed further they explained, in detail, that their drawings were of the fireworks we saw on the 4th of July. The fireworks were, for sure, the highlight for them. From what they explained to me, their drawings are a sort of fusion blend between the “big fireworks” (at the concert) and “MorFar’s fireworks.” Both of them drew the green grass on the bottom and “us sitting there.” And I watched, amazed, as they both chose their colors very carefully. Owen asked me to show him how to draw “stars” and then very quickly mastered the 5-point-star (when they are motivated, they are motivated) in order to draw the fireworks as stars. They both spent a lot of time and energy and thought on these drawings, painstakingly making the fireworks “shooting” and “loop de looping” “way high up into the sky!” In the end, I was really enamored with these drawings and genuinely liked them — as Art; actual Art. K & O were proud of these drawings, and I was proud of them for making them. I suggested we send them to their cousin Sadie, and although they weren’t thrilled about parting with them, they liked the idea enough to want to jump right in the car and bring them to the Post Office– which we did. But I was sure to take photos of them first.

Kyle’s drawing

Around here, we have some deep thoughts about the 4th of July. I’ve posted a tiny bit of them before — like last year, and the year before. This year what I’m thinking about most, especially as I look through the photos we took over our 4th holiday and reflect upon what they portray, is the concept of “Americana” or “All American.” The photos of our 4th of July festivities actually do it justice — it was pretty close to Norman Rockwell. It was pretty darn near perfectly idealistically glossy cheery red-white-and-blue All-Americana. Except one thing: the obvious– we are a Haitian-American/black-white/bi-racial/mixed-race/blended/however-you-want-to-call-it family. We’re as white-as-white-and-black-as-black can be. And we have a lot of friends who don’t look the part of “Americana”/Lilly White families either. In 2005 we immigrated two Haitian orphans. And we’ve fundamentally changed as a result. We’ll never be able to ride on pure privilege again. We’ll never look the part of the Norman Rockwell paintings. Our boys– as “All American Boy” as they are– will always defy the stereotype of the “All American Boy.” We’ll never just slip by unnoticed at the Bucks County Pennsylvania 4th of July celebration (or pretty much any other celebration in the country). And you know what? I am so proud of that. I am so very, very proud of that. We fully embrace that we defy the stereotypes. We wouldn’t want it any other way. It isn’t easy. It is actually really hard. But it is worth every second for the richness, the fullness, the depth that is our day-to-day engagement with the celebration of life. We had a really good 4th of July. I can’t imagine it any better. And each year our appreciation for what we’ve been able to be, as citizens of this country, grows deeper. Photos of two of the major highlights below. And for a whole slew of photos, click here.