Summer Camp

Noah left for summer camp today. His first sleep-away summer camp. Three and half weeks in rural Mississippi. It's a big milestone. 

Everything was neatly labeled, bagged, and crammed into three bags, but I have a hunch it won't come back that way. And that's ok. As long as he has more fun than I did during my miserable week at 4-H  summer camp and as long as he comes back in one piece, I will be happy.

 It's funny how camp can be such a defining and unifying experience for some people. I always get a bit jealous when I listen to Adam's camp stories or listen to him singing Jewish camp songs with strangers who didn't even go to the same camp and yet they still share a common lyrical bond. We all have a good feeling about Jacobs Camp since we did their Winter Family camp this past December, but it still has me reeling a bit. My baby monkey boy heading off on his own for a big chunk of time.

His departure day had a bit of a rocky start which didn't help to soothe the nervous energy that was already descending and swirling around us. I took the kids out for a celebratory/good-bye breakfast and when we exited the pancake house, we couldn't find the van. Turns out we parked in the wrong spot.Thank goodness, I hadn't already loaded his camp luggage, because they towed the van to a different city and we weren't able to pick it up until this evening! 

Happily, we made it to the airport on time,we had a nice visit with the other camp family who is flying down with Noah, and a few hours later we got confirmation of their arrival. The adventure has begun!

And speaking of camp, here is a little camp list:

A Summer Camp Lesson
Notes on Camp
Thirteen Signs You May Have Attended Jewish Summer Camp in the 1980s
Tinker Camp
Homesick and Happy
Why a Widowed Mom Sends Her Son to Camp All Summer Long
The Parent Trap

Have any good camp stories or links? Please share!

Somewhere Between

As parents, we have on-going discussions about how things are going with our kids. Sometimes we have little strategy sessions when it seems like we need a new approach to a particular issue. Sometimes we pat ourselves on the backs when our kids shine. Sometimes we worry. Sometimes we seek advice from others. Sometimes we just laugh at ourselves. 

Most of the time we are just hoping and waiting to see how all of this will work out. It sort of feels like cooking with a vague recipe, tweaking ingredients, tasting along the way, periodically peeking through the oven door, but never really knowing how it will all come together until that timer beeps and we burn our fingers as we eagerly break off that first little piece.

Parenting certainly isn't an exact science and adoptive parenting has its own unique set of flavors. In the past year, adoptive issues have become much more intense for all of us. Camille has had more questions, more emotions, and more stories than ever before. Sometimes we have been ready and waiting to give her answers and comfort, other times we are caught off guard and feel as if we have had the wind knocked out of us...gasping, tearing up, and sputtering to say the right things. Reading and knowing what and when and how to say things, is very different from actually doing it, especially when there are so many tender layers. We crave a specific and precise recipe, but there really isn't one.

This past weekend Adam and I had the chance to see Somewhere Between. It's a beautiful documentary that follows four Chinese adoptees over the course of three years. Four teens living in four different parts of the United States who bravely allow us to peek into their lives. There are plenty of books and films about adoption, but almost all of these are created through the lens of adults (experts, parents, adult adoptees). Even though we were late and that meant we had to sit in the very first row and my neck was killing me from the awkward angle, I was glued to every word. Hungrily, soaking up their stories and trying to digest them, several days later I still find myself thinking about the film. Trying to add it into the mix of things I want to carry with me. The title alone is rattling around in my head and heart. Somewhere Between. Not fitting into one specific box or identity. Looking like one person, feeling like another on the inside. Between two families, between two countries, and between childhood and adulthood. Plenty of very good food for thought.

 If you are in DC, the film has been extended until Oct.25th. If not, check the website for listings in other cities (including opportunities to meet the director and/or some of the girls...that really made our experience very memorable.)

The Magic of Cleveland and Miss Piggy

Once upon a time in South Louisiana two little girls eagerly pressed their faces to a big window and watched airplanes taking off and landing. They had been so excited when their parents proposed the trip to the airport to watch the planes. They had never done anything like that before and then the parents suggested that they all get on one of those departing flights. The girls couldn't believe their luck. It was one of the first flights that they remember ever taking. And then as if things couldn't get any more exciting, they arrived in Cleveland, Ohio. Yes, Cleveland, that thrilling city in the far north. It was if they had been magically transported into a glittering snow globe...the glowing Christmas lights, the bustling shoppers, and big, fluffy snowflakes. It was the first time the sisters had ever seen snow and they set right to work. In the middle of a busy square they built their first snowman. Which actually turned out to be a female snow pig, more famously known as "Miss Piggy". 


That's the true of story of why I will always love Cleveland, Ohio and my parents. I don't know how they pulled it off so smoothly, but that's how I remember it. The trip was fairly short and it included a visit to the art museum which is what initially prompted the trip (my dad wanted to see a specific exhibit, but I can't remember what it was). In addition to the snow and staying in a fancy hotel, the other highlight for me was seeing Lucy's bones. I was a bit obsessed with the famous Australopithecus and to see her bones on display was very exciting. After doing some research, it seems that I was very lucky to have seen those bones then, because they are now back in Ethiopia. 


I have always treasured the memories of that trip to Cleveland, but for some strange reason I hadn't shared that story with my own kids until our recent trip to Austria. I think seeing my kids reveling in all of that beautiful Austrian snow reminded me of how much I loved that Cleveland snow. After I told them the story, Camille couldn't wait to build our own Miss Piggy which was kind of timely since we have all been singing the Muppet Movie songs non-stop. So that's what we did, we built Miss Piggy in Lofer, Austria. 


New Year's Eve is always a good time for both remembering and looking ahead, isn't it? So here's my wish for 2012: make more magic. Surprise my kids, surprise myself, slow down the multi-tasking, make more time for savoring, and never forget the magic of Cleveland and Miss Piggy.

Identity Issues

Camille and I have had some interesting conversations lately. The first one came up a few weeks ago before she started school (which, by the way, is going fabulously well!). She was helping me bake lemon bars. It was like one of those Hallmark commercials. A mother and  a daughter baking together in the kitchen. Afternoon sun lighting up the whole scene as the daughter looks into the mother's eyes and says, " When I grow up, I want to be a mom just like you". That's exactly what Camille said to me and my heart melted. I smiled at her and said, "You mean that you will make special treats with your kids?". "No, I mean that when I grow up I am going to hide a bunch of chocolate by my bed and not share it with my kids." That's when the Hallmark moment detonated and fused into a comedy/training video on how to avoid being a bad mother. 

And then there was yesterday afternoon when Camille came into my room, climbed up on the corner of my bed and began to watch me put away the clean clothes. In a very serious voice she said, "Mama, what are you?". I asked her for a little bit of clarification on her question and she responded by saying "When you were a little girl, what did you want to be when you grew up? Is this what you wanted to be? Someone who just cleans and cooks?". I tried to explain that I loved my "job" as a mama and that I did more than just cleaning and cooking. She looked doubtful and wandered out of the room before I could think of all the perfect responses that a perfect Hallmark-made-for-tv mother would have given.

When Noah was around the same age, I remember we had some similar conversations about jobs.  He used to beg me to get a job so he could stay later at school with his friends in the after-care program. One day he proudly announced that he had the perfect job for me: a Costco sampler person...you know those people that hand out tasty little samples at the end of the aisles? He thought I'd be pretty good at that job.

I always thought I would return to work as a clinical social worker once both of my kids started school full time, but that's not really going to happen until we return to the States and I am not quite sure how or if that will happen then either. I like my current "job"...mama,wife, PTO member, library volunteer, gardener, yoga student, traveler, travel planner, photographer, reader and lapsed book club member (I promise to do better this year)cook, and housekeeper. I feel lucky to have this time at home with my family and for myself. But I am also aware that this isn't a job that is currently highlighted on career day discussions and I'll just have to work harder at coming up with a more satisfying answer for my five year old.

In the past year, Camille has been trying on different hats. She went through a period when she proudly announced that she wanted to grow up to become a baby sitter. After reading Pippi Longstocking, she was convinced that her calling was to be a "thing-finder" and in the past few weeks she has been telling us that she will grow up to be an artist. And I hope she does grow up to become all of those things including a mom who has a secret chocolate stash. And speaking of that...I am going to end here so I can find a better hiding spot for my chocolate before the kids get off the school bus. Chocolate is an absolute necessity when sorting out identity issues.

Getting on the Bus

Today was the first day of school. Noah eagerly hopped on the bus this morning and headed off for his first day of third grade. Camille hesitantly attended Kindergarten Orientation today. She's not sure about this whole kindergarten thing. It is quite a contrast to Noah who couldn't wait to start and spent the summer prior to Kindergarten studying the calendar and begging to start sooner. Camille has been adamant in her protest that she will not be attending Kindergarten. I know that underneath those strong words is a tender knot of fear and worry.

 Starting school gets built up to be such a big thing. Noah likes big things. He likes drama and excitement and new adventures.Camille is not built the same way. She's a bit more cautious, she needs time to warm up, and when she's ready, she's ready.School is a monumental milestone so I can understand why well intentioned friends and strangers keep beaming at her with a big smile and asking "Are you excited about school?". I am sure they are expecting that she will mirror their enthusiasm, like Noah did when he was five, but that isn't her response. I know that once she starts she will love it and she will embrace it with her spirited gusto, but for now we all just trying to help her ease into it. Attending the orientation this morning, a home visit from her teacher tomorrow, reading books about starting school, listing all of the friends who will be starting kindergarten with her, and savoring this final week at home with her. 

 I have been so focused on her anxiety about starting school, that it didn't really hit me until this morning that this is also a monumental transition for me, too. Starting next week, both of my children will be in school full time. I am not worried about filling up that time. I have a long and growing list of things I want and need to do during those school hours. But I have to admit that there is a bit of an emotional stew brewing in my gut. Change and transition does that. Watching the school buses pull up to their stops this morning not only marks the start of a new school year, but also a new stage of life.

Plastic Heels and Prayers

 

About two months ago, I listened to Garrison Keillor read Mark Jarman's Prayer for Our Daughters. I enjoyed it so much that I scribbled the name of the poem on the corner of the calendar in the kitchen. A few weeks later while doing dishes, I tuned into Terry Gros interviewing Tina Fey and I had a strange moment of synchonricity. I put aside the dishes, stood in the middle of the kitchen and listened to Fey read her own version of a prayer for her daughter. Both prayers so appealing in their sincerity, their humor, and their hopes that their daughters will be happy.

With those two prayers bouncing around in my head during the past few weeks, I find myself watching my own daughter more closely. Stopping to not only notice what currently interests Camille, but also wondering what will interest her in the future. Hoping that she'll eventually shed her love for those horrible plastic heels that she insisted on buying with her Hanukkah money, while also hoping she will always love libraries and books as much as she does now. 

Listening to her proudly announce to classmates that she has two mothers and two fathers, but knowing that it doesn't really make sense and that it may never completely make sense. Watching her play UNO with Noah and hoping they continue to grow closer as they grow older. Tucking her into bed each night as she clutches her bunnies and praying she will always feel safe, secure, and loved (also praying we don't misplace any of the bunnies during our upcoming travels since she is insistent on packing all of three of them).