Friday, December 21, 2007

Letter to Santa for my MUAA Sisters

Here is my version of the letter to Santa inspired by the email from Lisa earlier.

Dear Santa,

Becoming a new mother of an adopted African child has challenged me on several occasions to remain a good girl this year. Like the time when I had to remove my child kicking and screaming from a store after he had thrown his coat several times, poked holes in the meat packages with his fingers, and told me “NO” defiantly. Despite many challenges like these I do feel I have been a good girl.

My wish this year is pretty simple…

• I wish for the light switch to remain in the position I placed it, at least a couple of times a day.
• I wish to not have to wrench the flusher on the toilet out of his hands every time we enter any bathroom.
• I wish for just 10 minutes each day to elapse without hearing the bleating cry “Mommy come”.
• I wish to be able to take a shower or use the toilet without an audience.
• I wish that the term Mommy-O could be used in a fun manner and not just in the midst of shear meltdown as I would find this endearing and quite cute under the proper circumstances.
• I wish for all hand dryers to be made the same in public restrooms to eliminate the curiousity as this would be a definite time saver for me.
• I wish that I could stand and walk without having to drag my child with my body or feet. I realize this may be a tall request and so I would even be happy to simply have him stop clinging to my butt and pulling on my clothes.
• I wish for more singing and dancing and less meltdowns.
• I wish on two nights of every week to sleep in my bed and he in his all the way through the night. Even one would be okay if this is too much to ask.
• I wish for my MUAA sisters who have already brought their children home to be granted all of the above too as I am certain they would be oh so grateful. For those that are still in the process I wish for them to be spared the need to develop this list next year.

Mostly, I wish for him to be happy with his new home and new family.

Enjoy your trip this year and be safe!

A loving mother of an African Angel.

Something...

Just as we pull away from the daycare the conversation goes something like this...

"Mommy"? (Nearly in tears)
"Yes, baby".
"Mommy"?
"Yes, baby".
"Mommy, the school".
"The school?"
"Mommy, the new school, has your".
"The new school has what"?
"Mommy, (almost crying again) the new school, has your something".

OKAY, what the hell??? I'm thinking...

"It's okay the new school has my something". (hoping this will end the conversation because I haven't a clue what it is and why he is so upset about it).
Crying harder
"NO - Mommy, the new school has your something for the juicy". (circular hand motions)
MIND RACING...juicy....
LIGHT BULB... the juicy is pineapple.
"The new school has the pineapple"?
"NO, (getting angry that I don't get it and he doesn't know what it is called -really crying now) the new school has your something for the juicy".

LIGHT BULB - much brighter. The platter that the fruit including the juicy pineapple was on that I took for the daycare holiday party! WOW!!!

"The new school has my platter? The tray that I took the juicy on"?
"Yeah". (Sounds a little relieved)
"It's okay we can get it tomorrow, we have more".
"NO, I WAN' IT"!
"We have three more at home, I'll show you".
"NO, I WAN' THE SOMETHING".
"Okay, tomorrow you can show me where they put it and we can get it".
"Yeah".

WOW! I'm tired and we aren't even home yet...

New day...leaving the house to go to daycare.

"Mommy, I wan' to go to the new school".
"Okay, we are on our way".
"I wan' the something".
"Okay, show me when we get there".
We arrive - he races to the classroom to show me the disposable tray the fruit had been delivered on two days ago. It's now in my car, I guess we will be taking it back home.

For all the Mom's...

Compliments of my friend Lisa, here is a letter to Santa which most Mom's can relate too...

Dear Santa,

I've been a good mom all year. I've fed, cleaned and cuddled my children on demand, visited the doctor's office more than my doctor, sold sixty-two cases of candy bars to raise money to plant a shade tree on the school playground. I was hoping you could spread my list out over several Christmases, since I had to write this letter with my son's red crayon, on the back of a receipt in the laundry room between cycles, and who knows when I'll find anymore free time in the next 18 years.

Here are my Christmas wishes:

I'd like a pair of legs that don't ache (in any color, except purple, which I already have) and arms that don't hurt or flap in the breeze; but are strong enough to pull my screaming child out of
the candy aisle in the grocery store.

I'd also like a waist, since I lost mine somewhere in the seventh month of my last pregnancy.

If you're hauling big ticket items this year I'd like fingerprint resistant windows and a radio that only plays adult music; a television that doesn't broadcast any programs containing talking animals; and a refrigerator with a secret compartment behind the crisper where I can
hide to talk on the phone.

On the practical side, I could use a talking doll that says, "Yes, Mommy" to boost my parental confidence, along with two kids who don't fight and three pairs of jeans that will zip all the way up
without the use of power tools.

I could also use a recording of Tibetan monks chanting "Don't eat in the living room" and "Take your hands off your brother," because my voice seems to be just out of my children's hearing range and can only be heard by the dog.

If it's too late to find any of these products, I'd settle for enough time to brush my teeth and comb my hair in the same morning, or the luxury of eating food warmer than room temperature without
it being served in a Styrofoam container.

If you don't mind, I could also use a few Christmas miracles to brighten the holiday season. Would it be too much trouble to declare ketchup a vegetable? It will clear my conscience immensely. It would be helpful if you could coerce my children to help around the house
without demanding payment as if they were the bosses of an organized crime family.

Well, Santa, the buzzer on the dryer is ringing and my son saw my feet under the laundry room door. I think he wants his crayon back. Have a safe trip and remember to leave your wet
boots by the door and come in and dry off so you don't catch cold.

Help yourself to cookies on the table but don't eat too many or leave crumbs on the carpet.

Yours Always, MOM...!

P.S. One more thing...you can cancel all my requests if you can keep my children young enough to believe in Santa.

Thursday, December 20, 2007

The ONE.Org

As we approach the polls in January the ONE.Org is working hard to force our politicians to work together as one to eliminate poverty.


For those of us who have travelled to Liberia we have seen poverty in its meanest form! Here is a commercial that is running in Iowa in an effort to raise awareness.



For more information on One.org. follow this link.
http://www.one.org/blog/2007/12/18/weve-gone-commerical?id=172-3683323-zRJj_2&t=11

Monday, December 17, 2007

More AFAA kids coming home!

Sharon and Jessica arrived safely in Liberia last night and met their kids today. This will bring Jemama and Princess (Sharon) and Diamond and Florence (Jessica) home leaving only two more of my MUAA sister's children at the AFAA house. Assata will be coming homing with Jody January 25th and if all goes well Jody will escort Gormah and Kurker who got his passport today! Finally a big step forward!

Sunday, December 16, 2007

"Mommy it's no dark"

Today began like most weekend days. Akins wakes first and immediately states "Mommy it's no dark". Today he proceeded to get up, go over and turn off the closet light as if to prove the fact that it is no longer dark and therefore we should not be sleeping. I look at him and said "where are you going"? He says "Doria" this means Lorea and he is off to wake her, as once again I have been summoned to his room sometime in the middle of the night. I crawl out of his bed and follow him and find him peering outside to which he immediately states "I want to ride the snow". All very cute in his Liberian accent. I said "well go tell her". Off he runs and as I climb back into my bed he begins waking Lorea. I said "well tell her". "Doria, I want to ride the snow". Now that got her attention. "What"!? she says. Needless to say before it could even reach 8am we were bundled in snow gear and bouncing around the backyard on the sled.