In case you were wondering what the girls want to be when they grow up…

Spice wants to be an entomologist. Sometimes she wavers and wants to "work with frogs and lizards too", but most of the time she's into bugs.

Up close:

And Sugar?

Well, she wants to be a chef. These are some of her first creations – corn tortillas that she made from Gramma this summer. She always talks about owning her own restaurant, and what she's going to make us when we visit!

Children are pretty amazing, aren’t they? Some people think twins are alike, but even if our girls are identical, they are such their own souls. It’s amazing seeing them flourish and grow… and I wonder what they will be one day.

We gave Spice a bug house for her birthday, to go with her net and magnifying glass. Spice got her first cookbook. Their teacher came over for tea this past week, and they both got to show her their treasures. I think their teacher was pretty amazed how long Sugar could talk about food!!!

Tomorrow I head back to Canada – but not without having made a shopping trip today. One of the interesting things about Pittsburgh (sorry, I just didn’t think this when imaging Pennsylvania) is the number of black people who live here. At least in the downtown where I am staying, it’s been an eye candy festival of hair. (Yes, I know, Kelowna is way too white and I am way to excited about this.)

The coolest thing is that there are four different storefront schools on my walk to the conference each day, so I’ve seen countless preschool and elementary age kids – and their hairstyles. I’ve got  few new ideas… and its also nice to affirm that even if I am not a curly-whirley haired mama, I keep up with the Jones. In a totally vulnerable self-image way, it makes me feel like a good Ethio-Canadian mama when I know I’m taking good care of the girls’ hair.

I got to visit a few haircare stores within a few blocks of my hotel – but honestly most of those stores are focused on straightening and treating and chemicalizing. So I didn’t buy anything.

BUT I also went to Target – and got some cute Barbies for the girls. I probably won’t give them to them until Christmas or even next year (I don’t know – 5 is still to young for Barbies, isn’t it?) but it’s just nice to have them in the closet when they get to be a bit older. Especially since there is no way to find Barbies of colour in my home city. Now, they don’t have super curly hair, but they aren’t blond and do have darker skin – so it’s a start, anyway.

Meanwhile back at home – Jrock told me it took 3 hours to take out the girls braids and wash their hair last night. tee hee.  I thank him! first and foremost, since this is not his forte. Then I have to laugh… it takes me like 1/2 hour.

THANK YOU also to J&G for taking the girls for two nights, and for my dear friend T, who is driving to my house early tomorrow to put the girls’ hair into nice puffs for their school pictures. We couldn’t figure out how we were going to handle those school pictures (even if I did the braids before I left they would have been fuzzy 5 days later) and she totally is saving the day!

Our kids – all ready for cake.

Happy New Year!

OK, o it speaks to my current state of business that I’m writing this two weels late. But accept my belated felicitations!

On our way to the New Year's celebration.

We had a really great new year – we got together with a bunch of other Ethiopian families.Sadly, the party was also to say goodbye to one really awesome family who are moving to Toronto soon. But each time we get together, there is always a new face or new family joining us. Our small community continues to grow.

I know I’ve said it before, but it is such a blessing to be included in our Ethiopian community. They call me an honorary Habesha – I know they are just being nice, but it feels good anyway.

The girls got to wear their fancy dresses and eat food and, best of all! learn some Ethiopian dancing from a few friends in the living room. (Video below – so cute!!!) Bless his heart, the young man who patiently showed Spice how to swing her skirt. I hung out with the ladies, and sometimes a bit with the men. There are a few of the men who are in the same profession as I am, so we talk shop a bit. It’s a pretty gender-divided gathering, though, usually. Not by any design, but rather that the women hardly leave the kitchen.

Some funny moments from New Year – the first was when we were walking/biking over there to our friend H & M’s house. Here the girls were in their uber-traditional dresses, flying down the street on their pink “pixie-dust” BMX bikes. Talk about a bit of a culture mash.

The manditory coffee ceremony. She borrowed my scarf

The other super funny moment was when the dance lessons were happening. My friend W was asking up a bunch of guys to dance – this one fellow starts boogying in a pretty uncoordinated fashion. They told him he danced like ferengi – I objected! and said most of us dance better than that.

The funny thing is that they were speaking Amharic, but I get enough to follow some conversations. It’s really thoughtful though – if someone says a prayer or gives a toast, they often switch back and forth to English and I know it’s for our benefit. They don’t have to – Jrock and I are happy just to blend and nod – but it’s appreciated non-the-less.

Anyway – happy new year! Hope you enjoy the pictures and the video below (which has dancing footage!)

Catching up – we're really good friends with H & M especially.

M presiding over the cake – and the rest of the feast!

My friend W – her husband founded Partners in the Horn of Africa.

H organized a big lotto pool from New Years – but despite all the good vibes, we didn't win.

So cute! And not one drop of icecream cake spilled!

Spice beaming from ear to ear, learning to dance!

  The dance footage: Notice the proud chin and big grin!!! lol

Remember that old Will Smith song? Well, that’s how I feel!!!

What a whirlwind of a week it has been. It’s not often that I don’t post for a week. You can tell I’ve been insanely busy. My laundry is sitting undone in our room. The onions are going to rot in the garden if I don’t harvest them right away. Ekkkkkk…..

but the kids are happy and have their hair done in their beds. I did this cool thing with Spice’s hair, where I wrapped up a bunch of yarn in the bantu knots – it turned out really cool. But you’re going to have to imagine it since I didn’t get a picture, nor seem to have the time to post it. Sorry. It looks good though.

The girls are both adjusting well to school. They like thier teacher, and I do too. We already had a chat about adoption stuff in the classroom, privacy, and how we don’t share about the girls’ birth family.

Funny, I was planning on making an appointment, but when I dropped off a basket of apples (I am at least getting the fruit picked) she said they already were doing family stuff in class, and what exactly did the girls mean that they have a brother in Africa that they don’t know yet? lol So I told her about our adoption from Lesotho and how that is very exciting for the girls. Then, she said they are doing an assignment next week about “my house”. So instead of a family tree (this is her idea, btw, not mine) they are doing a “house of love” project. The kids draw their house or houses, as the case may be, and all the people in the house who love them. Pretty good idea, I thought! She said she was open to other ideas etc for other projects, so I’ve slipped the package of documents I posted here in August into Spice’s backpack for Monday.

Well, the dog needs a haircut (ok , they both do), I need a haircut, and there are dishes int he sink. But the kids’ lunches are packed and clothes laid out, I got some new sleepcaps ordered, and I am posting some “falshback to summer” posts. Before bed.

Now all I have to do is figure out how to cram full-time working in before 2pm each day. Whew.

Besides the new clothes and reuseable lunchware, one thing I’ve been getting ready for school is a small info package on adoption for the girls’ teacher.

I have compiled a few one-pagers that I thought were helpful and informative. I realize that she will have 20 little students to worry about and don’t expect any special treatment for my girls. That said, being a teacher and an education expert doesn’t mean you are an expert in adoption. So I figured a little food for thought couldn’t hurt.

Here are the handouts I’m passing along.

• Adoption in School Overview and Resources
• Memo To Teachers
• Tricky Assignments (I really like this one)
• Speaking Positively (compiled)

Any suggestions for approaching a talk with a Kindergarten teacher? Basically, I just want to put some parameers around the girl’s privacy, and to help her already welcoming classroom be adoption friendly too. Suggestions? Anyone have good success with your K+ teacher?

Today is the scheduled guest appearance of my post about the 1000+ questions people ask about adoption and our kids. (First seen here on this blog.)

Check it out! Adoption Magazine

There was a popular post on-line where an adoptive mom (UK/Ethiopia) challenged her readers to open up the discussion on attachment.

Here is my answer, for what it is worth. There are 40+ answers to far to read too!

How has attachment with your adopted child been different to what you expected? How has it been exactly the same?

I didn’t realize that attachment was such an ebb and flow of a process. I guess it is like that in other relationships as well, but I really thought there was a means to the an end (or some other mixed metaphor.)

What I know now is that my daughters’ individual attachments to me have grown over time. It takes time. (That I knew.) But as they grow and learn new things, or as new situations present themselves, we have to redefine and reshape that attachment continually.

For example, when one of my daughters turned three, she suddenly could “figure out” memories that had been sitting way deep within her. Those memories challenged our attachment because of her feelings of loss. All the sudden, we were in the middle of raging and not trusting again. We worked through that – but I know we’ll have many of those stages over the years.

 Has it been a really big deal in your house, or not at all?

Um, big. I mean, it shaped the way we parented  and continue to parent the girls, to a large degree. Luckily Jrock and I were pretty much on the same page with that one.

But all those associations of loss and trust and belonging are much more top of mind in our family than in others. I have seen other little girls play who don’t share our girls’ history of loss or adoption, and the themes aren’t there to the same degree. They play “this bear doesn’t have a family. He lost his family. Will you be part of my new family?” and such thing, every day. These aren’t raw wounds – just part of their experiences.

What have you found easier – personally bonding to your kid, or helping your kid to bond to you?

I loved my girls from the start – just like “falling in love”, I guess. The true loving, though, developed over time… including the attachment.

I found it hard to attach more to them when I was sick and barely surviving the first few months home. I still don’t know how I did it. And that inability to be on top of my game also affected the rate that they attached to me.

It was polar opposite different with my two daughters, though. Sugar slowly but surely grew in her attachment. She didn’t start to attach to Jrock at all until she had known him a few months. But with both of us, although with different start times, she hasn’t really waivered, and is very secure.

Spice, on the other hand, has been a rollercoaster. At first it looked like she was attaching, but now we know that being sweet and lovely is her coping mechanism. In a secure relationship, she’s actually not that pleasant all the time. But a few months in, the gaps started to show, and we knew we were in a for a ride. She now trusts us more than she ever has, and feels secure in the family make-up. BUT, she still worries when Daddy goes to pay the bill at a restaurant that he won’t come back for her. Time – I think that’s the only real answer.  

If you have an other half, does your child have a favourite parent? If it’s not you, what do you do about it?

Lots of kids have favourite parents. And they cycle through them over time. At first, Sugar wouldn’t have anything to do with Jrock. The only time she let him hold her the first few months was when there were wild animals running around and she was afraid of being eaten. And he’s tall.

The downside of Sugar’s preference for me was that I almost never got to spend one-on-one time with Spice. I think that was tough in the beginning. I tried to carve out time with her, but it took a while. That probably held our attachment to each other back for awhile. Now, we try to spend time with the girls separately once every two weeks – just for that reason.

How have siblings affected your family attachment dynamics?

See above!

A few days ago on March 11 was international women’s day. There is a campaign from Plan Canada that really struck a chord with me. In Canada, for the most part, I can live the life I want. I don’t really have a lot of constraints around my decisions because of my gender.

But in many parts of the world, and indeed, in some parts of this country, women still don’t have the same rights as men. I remember one day in Morocco quite a few years ago that I was traveling around Marrakesh with a Moroccan friend. He was taking me buying carpets. I was careful to wear appropriate clothing and not to offend anyone, since the country is a moderate Islamic state. I thouroughly enjoyed Morocco and felt so welcomed by the men and women I met.

But there was this one shop high above the other houses, deep in the souks. We must have climbed four sets of stairs to get up there, with each level getting several degrees warmer. Finally at the top, there was a dark room filled with looms and weavers. They were all women… all weaving and sweating away. The one man up there was obviously the business owner, and he started to throw carpets down on the floor for me to see, as is the custom. I was distracted by the ladies, weaving and wondering about me – this bold female who dared come and barter with their boss. I found some nice carpets, but the man didn’t want to move much on the price, and I knew we weren’t getting anywhere. My friend grew more nervous, and the man spoke with more distaste ever growing minute. Finally – I had a feeling. I didn’t realize what it was at first… but then I recognized it. This man thought  I was completely inferior to him, because I was a woman. And he would have no trouble whatsoever hurting me if I didn’t act as I was supposed to and buy a carpet.

I spoke quickly in English to my friend (we had been speaking in French with the man,) and he made some excuse about having to run and how we were behind, and so and so would be looking for us soon. Or some other lame excuse. We hustled down the stairs, with the man throwing insults down after us. I have rarely been so frightened in my life.

I guess the moral of my story is that for that brief minute, I felt the fear and subjugation that the weavers in that horrible man’s shop felt every day. And there are many many women in the world who simply aren’t given any chance or opportunity at life – simply because they are girls. Or women.

Have a look at this video, and think about ways you can help.

1. Raise strong, capable daughters. Show them that they can do anything.
2. Consider donating to an organization that empowers girls, such as Plan Canada, Vulnerable Children, or any other.

[pre-posted]

I don’t mind snow that much – but after several months of the stuff, I’m glad spring is just around the corner!!

The girls have progressed to their size 5 jackets. Not that they aren’t too big – but the size 3s just really were not covering their wrists or ankles and more. Can you believe these kids were in 18 month clothing less than two years ago? Yikes!

In the last few weeks, we’ve been making the best of the last days of winter. Sugar (blue) and Spice (pink went outside at every opportunity to play in the snow. you can see a feeble attempt of ours below to create some snow bunnies out of the completely wrong type of snow. But when you only get a few dumps of the white stuff each year…

The other way they’ve been enjoying the snow is going skating each week with Jrock, while I’m at work. One night, they decided to take me out to the rink, just so I could see their progress. Well – they can skate now! Better than I can. They can slide and make their way from one end of the rink to the other without more than one fall! Here are some pictures of the girls, proud as punch out on the icerink downtown. I just read in the paper today that they don’t expect to cool the rink past the end of the month, so maybe they will have to move to an indoor arena then. Too bad – the outdoor rink is fabulous, because of all the benches, and that it’s much warmer than inside. (Yeah technology.) It’s also just been great for Jrock to have something special to do with them each week, that is just the daddy/girls thing. For me as a little girl, it was going hunting with my dad. For them – skating. And since Jrock didn’t play hockey this year, it’s nice for him to get out and do something he enjoys too.

I remember my dad telling Jrock pre-kids: “Don’t worry if they are boys or girls. When you have kids, you will develop interests together.” How true – it’s nice to see his wisdom in action! Go daddy go!

We got this cute yoga DVD that the girls have really been enojoying doing. It’s called and it’s full of animals and kids doing fun stuff.

Daddy was particularily glad we got this DVD. You see, the girls don’t watch TV – only when I do their hair, or if a parent is sick. 

BUT since Jrock started being the primary caregiver two days a week, he’s found that a bit of a challenge. Enter – yoga! If he’s really at a loss what to do with them, he pops this DVD in and they have a blast.

Enjoy my bits of video from one of their sessions!

Race, ethnicity, colour, culture… they are all different things. When I think about how these ideas factor into our daily lives, I think first of my daughters as Ethiopian Canadians (culture), and then think about that they are brown-skinned (colour), then I remember that they are Oromo (ethnicity)… and sometimes it crosses my conciousness that they are black (race.) But not often. Of course, that is part of white privilege (see below.)

What about our self images? Well, I think of myself first as Canadian (culture,) and often I think of the Italian, Ukrainian, Scotttish, etc. – the 14 pieces that make me up (culture / ethnicity.) I never thought about my own race much until I was having brown skinned kids and noticed my own “pink”ness for the first time. I mean, I noticed my skin colour when I traveled, but not as my own identity. Ditto with being white – I still don’t like it. I’m uncomfortable with racial terms because they genetically / scientifically don’t exist.. but in social constructs and culture, they do.

I asked the girls this morning about which of these things they saw themselves ask…
Sugar said “brown skin, then part of our family, then Ethiopia, then Canada. I’m not black.”
Spice said she saw herself as “first part of our family, then brown-skin, then more Ethiopia and Canada, then a little bit black.”

They know that people called others with brown skin black, but not all brown-skinned people, like their Indian teacher. They’ve figured out she is omitted from the term, somehow. And then I asked them: “what am I first?” So according to the girls, I am “first Canadian, then white, then pink-skinned.” No ethnicity, apparently.

Hmmm…

I mention all this because Black History Month is a good time to think about these terms of ethnicity, race, colour and culture – what do they mean to us? What associations do we have with the words black, white, Indian, Asian, Chinese, brown, pink, First Nations, Cree, Ethiopian, African, Canadian, etc?

I think it’s also a good time to remember our Canadian, US (because we see so much of their media,) and even African histories of slavery and subjugation, and what those inequalities mean to individuals and cultures.

The girls and I have had a couple of good talks lately about racial equality based on the movie “Legend of the Guardians: Owls of Ga’Hoole.” Now you’re probably thinking, what has that got to do with anything? But the theme of the movie is that the “bad owls” are rounding up and making slaves of other owls that aren’t of the same species… it’s a pretty obvious starting point for discussion when you see the movie.

I’ll leave you with something that made me really think and changed the way I saw the world. It’s about white privilege, and until I read this, I didn’t realize all the things that come with the colour of my skin.

Daily effects of white privilege

As compiled by Peggy McIntosh

1. I can if I wish arrange to be in the company of people of my race most of the time.

2. I can avoid spending time with people whom I was trained to mistrust and who have learned to mistrust my kind or me.

3. If I should need to move, I can be pretty sure of renting or purchasing housing in an area which I can afford and in which I would want to live.

4. I can be pretty sure that my neighbors in such a location will be neutral or pleasant to me.

5. I can go shopping alone most of the time, pretty well assured that I will not be followed or harassed.

6. I can turn on the television or open to the front page of the paper and see people of my race widely represented.

7. When I am told about our national heritage or about “civilization,” I am shown that people of my color made it what it is.

8. I can be sure that my children will be given curricular materials that testify to the existence of their race.

9. If I want to, I can be pretty sure of finding a publisher for this piece on white privilege.

10. I can be pretty sure of having my voice heard in a group in which I am the only member of my race.

11. I can be casual about whether or not to listen to another person’s voice in a group in which s/he is the only member of his/her race.

12. I can go into a music shop and count on finding the music of my race represented, into a supermarket and find the staple foods which fit with my cultural traditions, into a hairdresser’s shop and find someone who can cut my hair.

13. Whether I use checks, credit cards or cash, I can count on my skin color not to work against the appearance of financial reliability.

14. I can arrange to protect my children most of the time from people who might not like them.

15. I do not have to educate my children to be aware of systemic racism for their own daily physical protection.

16. I can be pretty sure that my children’s teachers and employers will tolerate them if they fit school and workplace norms; my chief worries about them do not concern others’ attitudes toward their race.

17. I can talk with my mouth full and not have people put this down to my color.

18. I can swear, or dress in second hand clothes, or not answer letters, without having people attribute these choices to the bad morals, the poverty or the illiteracy of my race.

19. I can speak in public to a powerful male group without putting my race on trial.

20. I can do well in a challenging situation without being called a credit to my race.

21. I am never asked to speak for all the people of my racial group.

22. I can remain oblivious of the language and customs of persons of color who constitute the world’s majority without feeling in my culture any penalty for such oblivion.

23. I can criticize our government and talk about how much I fear its policies and behavior without being seen as a cultural outsider.

24. I can be pretty sure that if I ask to talk to the “person in charge”, I will be facing a person of my race.

25. If a traffic cop pulls me over or if the IRS audits my tax return, I can be sure I haven’t been singled out because of my race.

26. I can easily buy posters, post-cards, picture books, greeting cards, dolls, toys and children’s magazines featuring people of my race.

27. I can go home from most meetings of organizations I belong to feeling somewhat tied in, rather than isolated, out-of-place, outnumbered, unheard, held at a distance or feared.

28. I can be pretty sure that an argument with a colleague of another race is more likely to jeopardize her/his chances for advancement than to jeopardize mine.

29. I can be pretty sure that if I argue for the promotion of a person of another race, or a program centering on race, this is not likely to cost me heavily within my present setting, even if my colleagues disagree with me.

30. If I declare there is a racial issue at hand, or there isn’t a racial issue at hand, my race will lend me more credibility for either position than a person of color will have.

31. I can choose to ignore developments in minority writing and minority activist programs, or disparage them, or learn from them, but in any case, I can find ways to be more or less protected from negative consequences of any of these choices.

32. My culture gives me little fear about ignoring the perspectives and powers of people of other races.

33. I am not made acutely aware that my shape, bearing or body odor will be taken as a reflection on my race.

34. I can worry about racism without being seen as self-interested or self-seeking.

35. I can take a job with an affirmative action employer without having my co-workers on the job suspect that I got it because of my race.

36. If my day, week or year is going badly, I need not ask of each negative episode or situation whether it had racial overtones.

37. I can be pretty sure of finding people who would be willing to talk with me and advise me about my next steps, professionally.

38. I can think over many options, social, political, imaginative or professional, without asking whether a person of my race would be accepted or allowed to do what I want to do.

39. I can be late to a meeting without having the lateness reflect on my race.

40. I can choose public accommodation without fearing that people of my race cannot get in or will be mistreated in the places I have chosen.

41. I can be sure that if I need legal or medical help, my race will not work against me.

42. I can arrange my activities so that I will never have to experience feelings of rejection owing to my race.

43. If I have low credibility as a leader I can be sure that my race is not the problem.

44. I can easily find academic courses and institutions which give attention only to people of my race.

45. I can expect figurative language and imagery in all of the arts to testify to experiences of my race.

46. I can chose blemish cover or bandages in “flesh” color and have them more or less match my skin.

47. I can travel alone or with my spouse without expecting embarrassment or hostility in those who deal with us.

48. I have no difficulty finding neighborhoods where people approve of our household.

49. My children are given texts and classes which implicitly support our kind of family unit and do not turn them against my choice of domestic partnership.

50. I will feel welcomed and “normal” in the usual walks of public life, institutional and social.