Helpful hint: don’t ask adoptive moms how much their kids cost

Just because we like to shake things up around here, today the Mother Tongue welcomes guest blogger Skila Brown, an awesome local mom who has a lot to say about adoption. Personally, this is a subject that interests me a great deal since my own brother and his wife are in the process of adopting a baby girl from Ethiopia. You can follow along with their “paper pregnancy” here. In the mean time, let’s give it up for Skila!

Talking Adoption: A Primer for Non-Adoptive Families

November is National Adoption Awareness Month! As a local adoptive mother of three, I’d love to take this time to get on an adoption soapbox for just a minute or two. And you, the people of Lexington, need to listen. I know this is true because I see you in the mall. I talk to you in line at the grocery store. And I sometimes try to run and hide from you on the soccer sidelines. You need help, my fellow neighbors. Help learning how to talk to adoptive families about adoption. And I am here to be your guide.

For starters, let me get one thing out of the way right now. There’s a difference between asking questions about my family because you (or someone you love) are starting an adoption or are seriously considering it or simply because you are just nosy and curious. It takes me about three seconds to figure out, just by sniffing, which category you fall in. If you are in the former, by all means—ask away. But if you fall in the latter, I must shake my head and wonder why your parents failed to teach you any manners. Why you feel justified in asking me personal questions about my family when I wouldn’t dream of doing the same about yours. And why you are rude enough to do this in front of my children.

Here’s a list of questions you have asked me while you met me in some public place here in town:

Are they adopted?

What are they?

Where’d you get ‘em?

Where are they from?

Are they related?

Do they know they’re adopted?

Are the real?

How much were they?

Do you know anything about their real mom?

Why did she give them away?

And…some of my favorite unsolicited comments from you over the past few years:

Too bad you couldn’t have any of your own!

That’s so sad that their mother didn’t love them.

They must look like their Daddy!

I could never love someone who wasn’t my blood.

And…comments made directly to my children:

You are very lucky to be living here with these good people!

DO…YOU…SPEAK…ENGLISH??

Although it’s humorous to read back through these now and roll my eyes with a sigh, when I am waiting in line in a store with my three little ones, who are busy bouncing, singing, jumping, and testing out the candy bars, it’s anything but.

If you are curious about adoption because you think you may be interested in it, then by all means, ask advice from those families you see at the mall. But if you’re simply trying to make “small talk,” then take a minute to breathe deeply and ponder whether your question is any of your business.

I’m happy to talk about adoption in general with anyone at any time. But I would never give out personal information about my child’s own adoption story to another person, least of all a stranger. If the question feels like it’s none of your business, then it probably isn’t.

If, after reading this and sitting in the naughty chair for two minutes, you still cannot control your nosy instincts and must proceed with the Twenty Questions while we are waiting in line to pay for our milk, then try to be a bit more choosy with your words.

Instead of: Real parents, Try Saying: First parents/Biological parents/birthparents

Instead of: He’s an adopted kid. Try Saying: He joined their family through adoption.

Instead of: Are they real sisters? Try Saying: Are they biologically related?

Instead of: Did they cost a lot? Try Saying: Is adoption expensive?

With the number of adoptive families in the US continuing to grow rapidly, the day will come when I can run an errand with my children and no one will seem to notice or care. I can see that golden sunrise in the near future.

But in the mean time, try to control yourselves when we meet on the streets. Use your good manners, watch what you say, and please. Stop. Touching. My. Children.

So you think you might want to adopt

Here’s another great piece from guest blogger Skila Brown on the nuts and bolts of the adoption process:

HOW TO ADOPT
So you think you might want to adopt? Well, you aren’t alone. A 2002 study showed that nearly 41% of American adults—over 81 million people—have considered adoption. Most of those people won’t go beyond considering it. But for those who are ready to find out more, adoption can be an overwhelming thing.

WHERE TO BEGIN
One of the first steps is deciding what kind of adoption you may want to pursue. Private domestic adoptions are usually done through attorneys. A searchable database of adoption attorneys in your state can be a good place to start. Or you can call a homestudy agency, which can help you get started with your profile. Since first mothers usually choose prospective parents based upon their profiles and letters, the wait time can be varied and unpredictable.

International adoption continues to grow in popularity. Each country has different eligibility requirements and adoption procedures. Deciding your flexibility level and desired age of child will help to determine which country is a good fit for your family. By calling an adoption agency or looking over this chart, you can narrow down which countries might be a good fit. Once you think you’ve found a country, then you are ready to find an agency with solid experience and a good track record in that country. Be careful when choosing an agency! There is no strong federal regulation on international adoptions, and some agencies are much better than others. Follow this checklist and get good references.

Adopting through the foster care system can sometimes seem complicated and confusing, although it is usually the option with the smallest impact on your bank account. To begin, call your state’s department of social services. They can walk you through the required paperwork and classes and give you a better idea of what kind of children they have available.

THE HOMESTUDY
If you’re a filling-out-forms-geek like me, now comes the fun part. You’ll be required to get birth certificates, marriage certificates, background checks and more. And then there’s the homestudy. (Cue scary music.)

Having a social worker visit your house can seem intimidating. But most families find that no one is inspecting corners for dust with a white glove. The homestudy visit can be a great chance for families to have a conversation with an adoption professional to determine what kind of child would be a good fit for their family. Special needs, race, age, and amount of contact with the first families are all factors influencing what kind of adoption is best for you. Think of it less as an inspection and more as a chance for everyone to get to know each other better, ensuring for a smoother process.

THE WAIT
Naturally this is the worst part. And it can stretch for days, weeks, months, and years - all depending on what kind of adoption you pursue. Use this time to read about adoption, tidy up your nest, and sleep. Any parent can tell you that once children enter your life, you will never sleep the same again.

If you’d like to start getting in touch with other like-minded parents, Southland Christian Church has an adoption support group. You can reach them at (859) 224-1619, ext. 315.

THE HAPPILY EVER AFTER
Many people are hesitant to pursue adoptions because of the fear of the unknown. Can I love someone who is not biologically related to me? (Umm….well, is your spouse biologically related to you?) Will this child come with a host of issues? (Heck yeah! Every child does, whether they arrive through birth or adoption.) Adoptive families all over the globe report that their families love and argue like any other.

Still, to prepare for some of the issues you may face once your child is home, read up on any conditions your child may have been diagnosed with. Consult an International Adoption medical specialist for a thorough check-up once your child is home. And then give yourself time to adjust to your new family. Instant attachment happens about as often as love at first sight. For some people, families are formed that way. And for others, time and memories build that bond that makes us a family.

As National Adoption Awareness month comes to a close this November, take the time to explore adoption a little bit more. You may find yourself blessed in ways you cannot begin to imagine!

Be glad cows are vegetarians

Last year, when the Sprog was two years old, explaining the meaning of Christmas to him was easy. “Son,” said we. “Christmas is Jesus’ birthday party. You remember Jesus? God’s son that you learned about in Sunday School? Right. Him. Christmas is his birthday.” And we were done. No more questions from the peanut gallery.

This year it’s a bit different. His little mind has gone through some kind of nutty Flowers for Algernon transformation, and now he’s all full of questions about everything. What’s a rainbow, Mommy? What are toes for? Why doesn’t Victoria Beckham eat a sandwich? So of course this blooming curiosity also applies to the Christmas story. Hence the following conversation last night at bedtime:

SPROG: Mommy, what’s ‘O Holy Night’?

ME: It’s a Christmas song.

SPROG: I know, but what’s it for?

ME: Well, it’s about the night Jesus was born. Holy means special, so the song is saying that it was a special night when Jesus was born.

SPROG: Where was he born?

ME: In a barn. Like on a farm with animals?

SPROG: *nods* Why was he born in a barn, Mommy? That’s silly!

ME: Mary and Joseph were far away from their home when Jesus was born, and there wasn’t enough room for them to stay in the hotel where they were. So they had to sleep in the barn.

SPROG: Ohhhh. Where did Jesus sleep in the barn?

ME: In a manger.

SPROG: A what?

ME: A manger is a…hmm…like a big bowl up on legs like a table, and farmers put food for cows in it.

SPROG: *gasp* DID THEY EAT GOD???

Discuss: How do you explain your holiday traditions/beliefs to your small children?

Beware the evil influence of Oscar the Grouch

Was just reading Fark and came across this story in the New York Times. I will do my level best to not beat my forehead against the keyboard until I’m done with this entry.

According to the article, Sesame Workshop is getting ready to release a 2-volume DVD set of some of the very earliest Sesame Street episodes. But there’s a warning on the DVD telling parents that “These early ‘Sesame Street’ episodes are intended for grown-ups, and may not suit the needs of today’s preschool child.”

Say what? Sesame Street is inappropriate for little kids? According to the executive-producer of Sesame Street, it’s partly because of the send-up they did of Masterpiece Theatre. You know, the ones with Cookie Monster playing Alastair Cookie. Problem is—gasp!—Cookie is smoking a big old pipe, which he eats at the end of the sketch. As you do.

Anyhow, they fixed that scene and took out the pipe, then dropped the sketch altogether. But they think Oscar the Grouch is still too, well, grouchy for children.

You know what? I love it that Oscar is grouchy. I always did. When I was a little girl, Oscar showed me that it was okay to show negative emotions, and the reactions of other characters gave me a good example for how I should respond to such behavior.

You know what really scares me? Barney. That sugary sweet glurge makes my IQ drop within seconds. And as if the original isn’t bad enough, his sidekicks Tommy and Baby Bopp set my teeth on edge. Everyone is always so hap-hap happy! And they have the cute songs to prove it! And if there is ever a frowny face, then by golly Barney is simply bouncing with his excitement over a super-de-duper solution.

I just don’t know. None of that feels real. Sesame Street always felt real to me, though. The episode where Mr. Hooper died was selected as one of the top-ten most influential moments on daytime television for a good reason: It took on the subject of death in a way that was sincere but accessible to kids. I cried watching it as a little girl, and I cried watching it just now on YouTube.

Sesame Street is not as relentlessly cheerful as Barney et al., but it has always been loving and honest, and that is a much better thing. And this is somehow inappropriate for young children?

I need a whole stack of keyboards to beat my forehead against now.

Discuss: Did you watch Sesame Street as a child? Why did you like it? What was your favorite celebrity cameo? (REM or Johnny Cash, duh.) And did the show jump the shark with Elmo or what?

Will you still need me, will you still feed me

Saturday was the Drummer’s 33rd birthday. We were sitting companionably in the living room talking about birthdays and getting older, etc., when he got a faraway look in his eyes.

Husband: You ever regret listening to that little voice in your head?

Me: You mean the one that tells you, ‘Hey, you’re closer to retirement age than birth now’?

Husband: Uhhhh…no. The one that told you it was a good idea to eat at Taco Bell for lunch.

Me: …oh.

*awkward silence*

* * * * *

Hee. Happy Birthday, sweetie. *smooch*

P.S. We went to a hibachi restaurant for his birthday dinner, and you have not seen hilarity until you’ve witnessed a 3-year-old determined to eat Cheez-its with chopsticks.

Getting the lead out

You know, there’s nothing in the world that brings out my inner curmudgeon like the sight of Christmas decorations the day after Halloween. Or the warm glow in my son’s eyes that can only be described as rampant, unfettered greed.

I really, really don’t want to talk about Christmas yet. It’s just too soon, but the rest of the world seems to be ignoring me, so I guess I’d better get a move on. And realistically, those of us with tight budgets have to spread out the shopping, so it’s probably time to start thinking about that sort of thing anyway.

The big topic among parents this year is, of course, toy safety. Chinese toy factories are spitting out lead faster than an AK-47, and the acting head of the Consumer Product Safety Commission opposed the bill that would give her agency some real muscle. Instead, she favored voluntary self-regulation by the toy manufacturers, even in the face of evidence that such self-policing is wildly ineffective. Why, it’s almost as though she were somehow biased in favor of the toy manufacturers. Oh, wait.

So we can’t trust the toy manufacturers to effectively police their foreign factories, and the CPSC currently has only one toy tester, so we can’t trust them to keep the dangerous stuff off the shelves, either.

But…what to do? You can be the nerdy aunt (like me) who buys books for all the kids, or you can get them all gift cards or cash. Or—my favorite idea—you can give your business to manufacturers that pledge to produce quality toys (which are preferably made in America).

After doing some digging around online, I’ve found plenty of sites that sell such toys, and some of them have pretty cool stuff. I won’t lie, some of them are a little more expensive…but you get what you pay for, don’t you? I bet Aqua Dots are going pretty cheap right at the moment. And honestly, I’d rather spend my Christmas shopping money on one quality toy than on four cheapo toys that will poison my kids or break, and that’s only if they don’t lose interest by February.

Beyond that, our kids do not need all the trendy cheapo toys. Every kid I know has cartloads of loot, most of which they barely play with. The Sprog alone has four Rubbermaid tubs full of toys, plus a few Fisher-Price play sets and a train table. And do you know what he really loves to play with? Toilet paper tubes and my cookware. Dress-up clothes. And his Fisher-Price castle—he got that for Christmas last year, and he still plays with it every day. Let’s just hope it’s not chock full of lead paint, yes?

Anyhow, there are a few places in Lexington where you can buy toys that are a bit more reputable and won’t break the bank. Children’s Orchard on Richmond Road has a limited selection of non-toxic, Made in America toys, including paints, wooden puzzles, and other classic toys. Mother Nurture sells hand-made baby toys made with organic cotton (I keep meaning to buy the froggie for Baby Girl). And there are several big name toy manufacturers that are committed to making high-quality products, which you can find at most any large toy store (see below).

So here’s a handy list of links to help you in your quest for safer toys. Most of this stuff is made in America or Europe, and all the sites linked have pledged to conform to stringent safety standards. And please note that I’m not personally guaranteeing their safety; this is going off of the manufacturers’ claims about their toys and independent certifications. You should always, always follow up on this stuff. Also, I only included sites that have toys that are actually attractive, fun to play with and won’t break the bank. Now get clicking!

Of general interest:

The US Consumer Product Safety Commission toy recall list

Sign up for automatic e-mail notification from the CPSC whenever there’s a recall

Consumer Reports

The Consumerist: Shoppers Bite Back

Websites for toys:

Hyena Cart

Turner Toys

Hearthsong

Etsy (millions of cool, hand-made items)

Corolle

Oliebollen

IKEA

Moolka

Roy Toy (aka Lincoln Logs)

K’NEX

Step 2

Zome

Back to Basics Toys

Playmobil

Oompa

Maukilo

Melissa and Doug toys (at Toys R Us)

Kidkraft

Bright October

Made by Yankees

Hip to be square

So today I found myself making plans for lunch tomorrow with a friend who has recently moved back to Lexington. It’s been about 10 years and three dress sizes since I’ve seen her, and all of a sudden I’m getting nervous.

The problem is, I just realized that I’m not current on most of the topics single women might like to talk about. I don’t watch TV and I don’t read People magazine, so my knowledge of pop culture is total pants. I haven’t bought a new CD in months, and I just now saw Spiderman 3. I’m a newshound obviously, so we could hash out the political unrest in Pakistan all day, but for some reason not everyone likes to do that over lunch (What? It’s fascinating!).

But other than that? My conversation tends to roll back into the black hole of kids and marriage. I try not to let it, because I’m very aware that not everyone is enamored of my gross domestic products, but it’s inevitable. Kind of like how all roads lead to Rome, except with me, all conversations lead to: “Oh, that reminds me of something the Sprog did the other day!”

Despair. How did I get to the point where my conversation is so kid-centric? I have got to get out of the house more often. Also, get some new clothes.

Discuss: How do you all avoid this trap? Or do you embrace it and mostly hang out with other parents?

Cold car keys and Karo syrup

Pressed for rules and verities,
All I recollect are these;
Feed a cold to starve a fever.
Argue with no true believer.
Think-too-long is never-act.
Scratch a myth and find a fact.
Stitch in times saves twenty stitches.
Give the rich, to please them, riches.
Give to love your hearth and hall.
But do not give advice at all.
—From “A Garland of Precepts”, by Phyllis McGinley

After a few weeks of howling misery, Baby Girl is back in fighting form, and the Chapmans did rejoice, yay. The colic, it turned out, was caused by a truly awe-inspiring case of constipation. Seriously, the Department of Homeland Security should take notes on her bowels, because None Shall Pass.

Fortunately, her pediatrician advised me to give her a little dark Karo syrup stirred into a few ounces of water every day. So I did, and WOW. All of a sudden, happy baby! Smiles and cooing! Dirty diapers! Lots and lots of dirty diapers! More dirty diapers! Wait, maybe this isn’t such a good thing…

In all seriousness, it cured the constipation (and therefore the colic) with the quickness, and I was only sorry I hadn’t heard about it earlier. Looks like I’m about the only one who hadn’t heard about it, too.

I have a broad spectrum of friends, age-wise, and I noticed that most of the over-50 moms I told about the Karo Syrup cure tended to look at me like I had taken a huge heaping helping of fresh stupid for breakfast. “Well, yeah. Everyone knows about that.”

Intrigued, I did some more digging on the internet, and discovered that, indeed, Karo syrup for constipation is one of those old-timey home remedies that people used to use. Obviously, some home remedies are better forgotten (like Windex for acne), but others are better than anything you could buy in a pharmacy. Chicken soup for a cold? The science says yes! Cold house keys to stop a nosebleed? Apparently so.

It got me to wondering what other bits of passed-down knowledge we younger moms are missing out on. So, how about it? To all you veteran moms reading this: what bits of truly helpful wisdom have you picked up over the years? And young moms, what’s a good piece of advice an older mom has given you?

I’m not just talking about home remedies, here; I’m talking about advice that helps you with day-to-day parenting. Any topic is fair game. Aaaand….go!

Edited to add: Has anyone heard about that weird cold remedy of putting Vicks vapor rub on the soles of your feet? Does that actually work?

Milk: It does a body good

Being a parent is a worrisome business. Really, there’s no limit to the span and scope of things we will fret about, like what if social services comes to investigate us because wee Jasmine has developed a habit of biting her own arm, or how about that one martini I had before I found out I was pregnant, or what if little Johnny develops some bizarre hairy ears disease that only three other kids in the whole world have ever been diagnosed with and my insurance thinks hairy ears are a lifestyle issue and therefore not coverable (it could happen)? You get my point.

Then there are the more pedestrian concerns, and one of the biggies among first-time moms is wondering whether pregnancy and nursing will totally wreck your body (particularly your breasts). According to a UK plastic surgeon’s new study, the answer is no. Well, probably not, if you don’t smoke and have nice, elastic skin.

Look, I’m all for encouraging women to breastfeed, but I’m inclined to take this study with a grain of salt. I’m not saying they’re wrong—it may well be that breastfeeding has little to no effect on breast sagginess—but I have a few reservations about the study. For one thing, the sample was extremely small (132 women), so I question whether that’s enough to draw any sort of conclusion with confidence.

Moreover, a lot of the evidence was based on interviews. They did use standardized pre-operative photos of the breasts to measure the degree of sag at the time of the study, but that doesn’t tell me where the participants started out. I’d be more interested in a study that measured each woman before pregnancy, after the initial milk engorgement, and a few years down the road.

Finally, there seems to be a bit of a flaw in the design of the study: all of the participants are women who came in for cosmetic surgery on their breasts. The study found no significant difference in the degree of sagginess between women who had breastfed and those who had not, but how meaningful is that data when everyone in the sample thinks they have saggy breasts anyway? Their opinions on the subject are almost guaranteed to be variations on a theme of “I hate my breasts so much.” It would have been much more interesting if they had interviewed women who weren’t plastic surgery recipients.

Anyhow, the entire issue of whether breastfeeding is good for your figure is somewhat annoying anyway. Because first of all, breastfeeding burns massive amounts of calories, so it’s one of the best things you could do for your figure on that basis alone. And second, if you are so deeply concerned about your looks that you just don’t think you can breastfeed, perhaps you’re not quite ready to be a parent.

Don’t mistake me–there are many perfectly justifiable reasons women (including me) choose not to breastfeed. But pure vanity is maybe not the best one, in my opinion. It’ll get drilled out of you anyway after pregnancy—having a baby around the house generally means a season of mismatched clothes, under-eye dark circles, and somewhat ratty hair. And yes, maybe a bit of brand new breast sag.

But the bottom line is, whether breastfeeding causes a bit of sag or not, don’t let that stop you from doing it. Love your body, honor every stretch mark, every imperfect inch of it, because it has done something amazing: it nurtured and protected your baby from the day he or she was conceived. And now, even after the birth, your body knows just how to make the most perfect food in the world, custom-made for your baby. Now that’s a beautiful thing.

Pumpkin del Fuego

For some people, it’s the scary movies that freak them out the most on Halloween. For others, it’s the haunted houses. For me, the blue ribbon usually goes to some Discovery Channel documentary about Vlad the Impaler or the Highly Venomous, Mightily Irritable Tarantulas of the Amazon or whatever**. But for my husband, though, I absolutely guarantee you that the scariest thing he saw on Halloween night was the look on my face after I found out what he did to my pumpkin.

See, I took the kids trick-or-treating, and my husband stayed home to hand out candy. At some point he noticed that the pumpkin needed a candle, so he decided to remedy the situation. Because he could not locate the giant stash of candles in the pantry that have been there since the day we moved in omg are you flipping blind, he cast about for the next-best thing. Which happened to be my expensive Ginger-Peach candle from Pier 1. The one I love to light up for ambiance when I’m doing calligraphy or writing letters at my desk.

This candle, it is like seven inches across. I don’t even know how he got it to go in the pumpkin in the first place. Then he decided that the light from one measly wick was just not cutting the mustard, no sir! So do you know what he did? He went and fetched the rubbing alcohol from the bathroom and poured a good half of the bottle straight into the pumpkin. Yes he did. And then he threw in a lit match.

Obviously, I wasn’t there to see it, but he said the flames went like three feet high. Which is coincidentally what my head sort of looked like when I peered into the pumpkin later and beheld the molten lump that once was my candle.

Fortunately, in a burst of self-preservation, he installed a DVR drive and 2 gigs of extra memory onto my Preciousssss my computer yesterday. I think I can manage to be magnanimous about the candle for that kind of bribe.

* * * * *

On a related note: I think I just realized why November 1st is really called “All Saints Day”: because if you are a parent who knows how to take advantage of raw opportunity, then you will have put that giant bowl of Halloween candy up on top of the refrigerator and told the kids that they’d better behave if they ever want to see another mini Snickers bar again.

**For the curious: the scariest thing I saw this Halloween was when I walked into Rite-Aid on Halloween morning and it looked like Christmas barfed all over the store. TOO SOON.