Roses are Red, violets are Blue. Mom and Dad are White, WHO ARE YOU?!?!?
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At five months of age, a baby acquires the ability to distinguish between colors. This was very evident with Ollie. When The kids and I would play with him, he’d pull his head back with a start, look from face to face, trying to figure out why I was apparently well lit, and they were in shade. It didn’t take more than a day or two for him to accept this as the status quo and move on, but one day, we will have to explain adoption to the lad.
I don’t expect it to be a difficult conversation, but it is funny to have the conversation in that order. Mia & CJ were old enough to understand they were getting new parents. To Ollie, he’s always had a brother and sister. In our world, OLLIE is the one who was adopted into an already established unit. Let’s face it, just because a baby is born, doesn’t mean you keep it. Otherwise how would all these rich white people buy their perfect little bundles of joy?
We CHOSE to keep Ollie. To accept Ollie. Allow him to crash our party. My kids adApted to the idea of a baby brother, therefore adOpting him into their hearts.
It’s really quite wonderful when you think of it that way, huh?
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When your kid’s ask you a question, verify what you’re signing up for. If you give the affirmative without sufficient details, you only have yourself to blame.
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True, a man’s word is only as good as his actions, but there are so many actions ascribed to some words.
It’s bad enough kids have to learn the difference between their/there/they’re (of course based on Facebook posts, they never do). My kids also have to wrestle with the word adoption. Last week we tackled the adoption of pets. This week, we look at the idea of adopting someone by way of gifts or help. I guess I could have highlighted how we ‘adopt’ kids in Africa on 7 cents a day, but I couldn’t bear drawing an emaciated lad with flies around him.
I also don’t want to imply the work being done by some people and organizations isn’t worthy of our support, but my kids appear mighty confused on what adoption really means.
I did get a kick out of drawing this week’s comic. When it was complete, I stepped back and though, “Oh, man. I may have just drawn Comic CJ’s, Comic Birth Dad.” Even in cartoon form I felt fat and unworthy. When this boy grows up to tower over me, (which will probably be around the age of 12), I sure hope he understands that size doesn’t matter in the household chain of command. Hmmmm. Maybe we should bring a soldier in the house to teach him a few things.
After all, “knowing is half the battle!”
Happy National Adoption Month & Veterans Day.
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I can’t say I haven’t thought about doing both of these. Between their sloppy table eating and curbing the possibility of becoming an early Grandparent – these options may be on the table.