WordSisters

Category: Adoption

  • “Your Moms Can Get Married Now.”

    Dsc00218I imagine someone at school saying that to Antonio and Crystel and them responding, “Huh?”

    As far as they are concerned, we are already married, and Crystel, much to her chagrin, wasn’t a part of the wedding that we had before she and Antonio came home from Guatemala. She can hardly believe that we had a life before them.

    Our wedding was 11 years ago this August. Some folks would ask us, “Is it legal?”

    It was to us. Still we had our personal wills drawn up. We weren’t leaving our children, our money, or our belongings to chance.

    Jody and I aren’t political or activists. We live our life the best that we can and hope that people will figure out that we are pretty normal. I think we have the neighbors convinced. We hold the yearly Neighborhood Night Out gathering in our backyard. We have come to think of them as normal, too. That’s what sharing a pan of brownies will do.

    DSC00234On May 13, 2013, I got a text from Jody saying, “It passed.” I was confused and sent a text back, saying, “What passed?”

    A kidney stone, a car, a semi, what??? It took an hour before it came to me.

    Since she was the one who asked me to marry her eleven years ago, I figured I better man up.

    I sent her a text, “Will you marry me? August 10, 2014?”

    Aunt Jo, Our Unity Minister.
    Aunt Jo, Our Unity Minister.

    I didn’t hear from her for a while and wondered if she was re-evaluating our relationship.

    But then came the “Yes!”

    Later with Antonio and Crystel around the dining room table, I said, “You know a law passed and your moms can get married now.”

    Antonio said, “Yeah, I know what that is. It’s the … what’s that called … same …” He was stumbling on the word “sex” and I came to his rescue. “That’s right,” I said. “It means two moms and two dads can get married.”

    “I asked Mama Jody to marry me and what do you think she said?”

    Crystel laughed leaned conspiratorially over to Jody and said, “She said, “No.” If drama is to be had, Crystel is there.

    married
    married

    “No, I did not,” Jody said, “I said “Yes.” Crystel you can be our flower girl. You always wanted to be a flower girl in a wedding.”

    “Oh, no,” I said. “She and Antonio will have to give us away.”

    In one year, twelve years from the date of our first wedding, we will be married again. This gives us plenty of time to work out the details. Save the date.

  • The Importance of Friends

    Oliver and Antonio
    Oliver and Antonio

    Before Antonio’s soccer game, I told him that we wouldn’t be able to stay after the game. He groaned. Two days ago we stayed late giving him a chance to play with his friends on the field. They took turns shooting the soccer ball into the net with one of them guarding. I enjoyed watching his fun and he relished playing with his two friends.Every parent wants their child to have friends and I was delighted watching Antonio with his.

    Today, after Antonio’s soccer game his friend Oliver asked if Antonio could stay and play. “My parents will bring him home,” he said. Antonio’s eyes shone when I said, “Yes”, and he quickly became so immersed in his soccer playing that he couldn’t hear Jody saying goodbye to him.

    Nattie, Crystel, Ally
    Nattie, Crystel, Ally

    Antonio is interested in soccer this year because that is what his friends are doing during recess at school. I was shocked when both he and Crystel said they wanted to join the spring recreational league. For years, they had shown no interest.

    His coach this year, remembered Antonio when he was four years old playing soccer at YMCA.

    I sighed.

    “Antonio was more interested in sitting on your lap then playing soccer,” I said to the coach.

    The next time he played soccer he was six years old and he would come off the field during a play and say, “Crissy you go in for me.”

    Crystel and Gabby
    Crystel and Gabby

    “Antonio she not only isn’t on your team,” I said. “She’s not even signed up for soccer.” Still, no one seemed to care when she bounded on the field taking his place.Children’s friendships are important to parents. Once in a while a parent will comment that they hope their children keep the same group of friends throughout all of their school years. “It’s a great group of kids,” they will say.

    Jacob and Antonio
    Jacob and Antonio

    I must confess that I wasn’t prepared for the mother who wondered if Antonio would date her daughter-espeically since her daughter and Antonio were only in preschool. I’m sure she meant it as a compliment, but I hadn’t taken that leap in my mind yet.

    Now that the kids are ten years old, I allow myself to wonder about that occasionally.

    I am interested to see who they gravitate to in their friendships and in their ‘special’ relationships. They were both born in Guatemala and are being raised by two white women in an English speaking household. Are they drawn towards Hispanics or whites in their friendships? Who will they choose for a partner?

    Tinsae and Antonio
    Tinsae and Antonio

    Both Antonio and Crystel are attending a Spanish dual language school. This helped them be comfortable around Hispanics. I used to have to remind them that they were brown and Hispanic which is why they needed to learn Spanish.

    This past winter when the cold seemed like it would never end and they were whiny, I asked them if they would like to move to a warmer climate. They both immediately said, “No.” Their friendships have become that deep.

    I have been happy to observe that they have friends who are of mixed races, white, Hispanic, and African American. They are friends with children from divorced families, families with only one parent, and children from families who have two parents.

    In other words, they are perfectly normal.

  • Perils of Being a Writer

    OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERACrystel shuffles out of her bedroom, rubbing her eyes. The rest of us have been up for hours. In fact, Antonio has about used up all of his allotted time with electronics. I briefly look up at her. She’s grown taller in the night, I think. She stretches out her form before flopping down next to me on the couch.

    “Good morning, dear.”

    She mumbles, “Good morning.” She leans casually towards me. We’re now bumping shoulders.

    I return to reviewing my manuscript and drop my eyes to the computer.

    “I knew it,” she says. “I knew it! I knew you were going to say it one day!” She jumps up and runs out of the room.

    “What!” I say, alarmed.

    I look down at the writing on my laptop and immediately know what happened. There in black and white it says Antonio and Crystel aren’t my children….

    “Crystel! Crystel! Come back here!” I leap off the couch. Yelling upstairs, I say, “Antonio is Crystel up there!”

    “No, she’s not.”

    Rushing down the basement steps, I holler, “Crystel, you need to come back and talk to me. Crystel, where are you!” It’s dark and quiet in the basement.

    I rush back upstairs to where Antonio is. “Antonio are you telling me the truth? Is Crystel upstairs?”

    “She’s not up here. She never came up here.”

    I’m in a bit of a panic. What could Crystel think, and if she won’t talk to me, then what? And is it true that she has always thought that I was going to say that she’s not mine?

    “Crystel, you need to come here.”

    I hear behind me, “You couldn’t find me.” She seems pleased with this.

    “No, I couldn’t find you. Now, sit down.” I’m relieved she actually does.

    “If you are going to read something that I am writing, you need to read all of it or ask a question. You reading part of a sentence is like coming into a conversation part way or seeing only part of an elephant. You aren’t getting the whole story.”

    “Now, look at this.” I point to the paragraph: Antonio and Crystel aren’t my children to own or to have or to keep. Finding their birthmoms, reuniting the mom with their child, promising to bring Antonio and Crystel back every two years to Guatemala continues restoring me to health.

    “What this means is that you aren’t an object for me to own. You are your own person. Not mine. Now if we scroll up here, it says, When I say to them, you can count on me, I absolutely mean it.” I look in her eyes. “You are my daughter. I would do anything for you.”

    This seems to satisfy her. Crystel is often interested in what I write. When she came upon me reviewing the last blog I wrote about her being interested in the bathroom scale, she read it. She laughed and laughed. Now she will have another blog to read: The Perils of Being a Writer.

    At bedtime we will have that other talk, in case she really is expecting to hear me say she isn’t really my daughter. Hmmmm.