Protective
Jun 15, 2007 Adoption, Parenting
Madison is so out-going. She makes friends everywhere she goes and thinks nothing of joining another family for a picnic or seeing if she can wrest some snacks from a mom distributing crackers to her kids at the park. We’re working on being a tad more appropriate in our socializing. But meanwhile, her big-hearted interest in other people continues.
The hard part is that Madison looks at least a year older than she is. She also speaks so well that she sounds much older than she is.
“What is she, four? Five?”
“She’s three actually.”
And then much astonished reactions.
Sometimes they ask when she turned three and are even more astonished to hear it was at the end of March.
“She’s tall for her age,” we say.
“And so articulate!” they add.
So that’s the trouble — you expect 4-year old behavior from a 4-year old and a 3-year old — even a very smart 3-year old — will still act three. I kinda wish I could hang a sign around her neck that said, “I’m only three so I’m still figuring it out.” See, it’s cuter for a 3-year old to try to invade your picnic whereas a 4-year old just seems pushy.
The other thing I’m realizing (Brett and I were talking about this last night) is that because it’s harder to figure out to whom Madison actually belongs, she seems less supervised than she is. At baseball the other night a small gang of preschoolers was digging in the dust under a tree (”We were making smoke!” explained Madison). When one of the moms bought her kids ice cream from the ice cream truck and Madison tried to come along with them. She had dressed herself and was wearing a too-small orange and yellow tie-dye dress coming apart at one seam and these horrible hot pink velour flared pants. (She won’t give up either of these items of clothing and I keep removing them and they keep somehow ending up back in her drawer.) I turned to check on her and saw her eyeing one of the popsicles and her mom swiveling her head trying to figure out who this kid belonged to and we went and got her, pulling her attention away with the cookies we brought. And I know that her being a Black Child (especially at these baseball games where most if not all of the kids are white) has its own baggage for people although I’m not quite sure what this baggage is. (My sense is that the baggage is not exactly flattering.)
The gang of kids, that’s how it works at these events. The big brothers are on the field and the littles swarm around from place to place, circling the soccer ball someone brought or running over to see the dog someone else brought. The parents on our team know who Madison is because Noah has been on the team for about four years but on the other team, you can see the parents sometimes looking around puzzled trying to attach the very chatty little girl who has arrived at their blanket wondering if they have any extra juiceboxes.
This really came home last night when we were at Noah’s camp night at the swimming pool. Brett was in the water with Gramps and Noah. I was under the awning with Gram Pam. Madison was near the shallow end playing with a green ball. A woman was watching her and talking about how cute she is and then she said to the (black) man sitting hear us, clearly thinking he belonged to her but knowing that he has only two granddaughters at the camp, “I don’t know who she’s with. Do you?” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder to us. I waved. “We think she’s very cute, too,” I said.
Then later Madison tried to go out on the dock by herself.
“You have to be eight years old to be there alone,” I told her, bringing her back. “So you have five more years to go.”
“Is she only three?” I heard someone at a nearby table say to his companion.
“She’s tall for her age,” I called over to him.
I don’t know why it breaks my heart — I think it’s just a mother-thing, really, and not anything really problematic. But the other night it started to rain and the preschoolers were scattering back to their parents. It was a light rain, sure to pass quickly. One of the moms got out a sheet and gave it to her girls to hold over their heads. They were laughing, skipping forward with the billowing sheet above them. Madison veered away from her course to us to grab hold of the blanket, too, and she looked up at the bigger girls, smiling with them only they looked back annoyed to see this little girl invading their fun. As Brett got up to intervene I saw the mom scanning, brow furrowed, looking for the person who would come help her girls extricate themselves and suddenly Madison looked so alone. I wanted Brett to run to her instead of stroll and my throat clenched up to see her so joyful despite the glares of the other girls.
She is such a big-hearted girl and that seems so vulnerable. But I have to remind myself that she is nothing like me and two little girls who don’t want to share their blanket won’t break her heart the way it would have mine. She is made of stronger stuff. Still, I wish everyone knew that she belongs to us and isn’t being sent out alone to make her way with the other kids. It’s the first time I wished we (in Noah’s words) “matched.”
Maybe we’ll all have to start wearing matching t-shirts.
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Laundry rot
Jun 14, 2007 Blogging, The Story of My Life
I keep rewashing the blankets. I keep forgetting they’re in there because we don’t really need blankets right now but we do need socks so Brett will say, “Where did all my socks go?” and I say, “I’ll do a load while I’m downstairs” (because I work down here so the doing of laundry falls to me) and then I gather the socks and open the washing machine and there are the stinky blankets needing to run through again. It’s the third time. Perhaps it’ll be the charm.
And look here — They had just decided to be an only child family! They will give you the details later on down the line. It’ll have to wait because as you can see, their hands are full!
Speaking of adoption, my friend who recently brought her baby home from Ethiopia is visiting from the West Coast this week! I’m frantic to clear my desk so I can devote lots of time to her. Madison is very anxious to meet the new baby.
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Tags: Madison
Super Star!
Jun 13, 2007 Adoption, Read/heard/seen
I know, I know. Tinny sound, distant fuzzy super star. Still we are having fun with it! Also found out her little sister will be visiting next month and we’ll get to see her again! She’s about Noah’s age and looks an awful lot like Madison. As Jessica said in her email, lots of priceless photo opportunities!
edited to add: Tall guitarist is her fiance and the woman who gets up to take the pic is her future sister-in-law.
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Work to do
Jun 13, 2007 The Story of My Life
I just wrote one of the 100 Hats freelancers that I would pull the calendar together over the weekend then remembered that this weekend is full-up. I usually do it Sunday mornings. I guess I’ll do it Friday morning.
Noah is doing grandparent camp this week. It’s a thing that one of the parks has going on and it means that he’s gone with his grandparents from 9am to 4pm every day. Then last night he spent the night there and maybe tonight, too. I miss that kid. A Noah-full day is more fun than a Noah-free day but he’s having such a great time that we’ll all just suck it up.
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Tags: Noah
Oh and an update on Madison
Jun 12, 2007 Parenting
I just read in a “somewhat similar post” that I was thinking about how she’d be hell on wheels with “why” when she hit that stage. And I was right! Because she hit it and she is. Everything is why and what’s worse is that she’ll call us out as wrong all the time.
“Actually,” she says. “Actually Daddy is digging to find worms.” Not, as I would have it, to get the weeds out. But then what do I know? It’s the “Actually” that kills me.
Noah at this age was a different animal every day. He had it figured out into a tidy little schedule. Today a fox, tomorrow a rabbit, the next day a wolf. The order never varied although it sped up as he got older so by the time he was four I never knew what kind of animal would show up for lunch. Madison likes to be different people every day. She is imaginary people and real people — like cousin Lucia. We all have to be people who match. Today she was Laura, winner of the Grease, You’re the One that I Want show, which made Daddy Max. She let me be a runner-up.
She also enjoys being a mommy to my baby and being a baby to my mommy. When she grows up she’s going to marry Daddy and brother, in that order. She is going to be a mama and have a baby, a big girl and a brother, also in that order.
She loves to play in her water table and, alas, the bathroom sink continues to hold her in its thrall. Only now with the weather warm when we find her on her stepping stool singing while she wrings out toilet paper, pants still around her ankles and potty unflushed, it’s easy enough to clean her up and send her out to the water table outside. She digs in the dirt and turns the water into mud and then feeds it to her baby. All is good. She is a much better listener than she used to be and likes to hear about how I had trouble being a good listener when I was three, and daddy, too, and brother, too. It’s hard to be a good listener, we tell her, when the world is so interesting. But you’ll get better at it — it’ll be easier to remember the rules and easier to follow them.
Her favorite book right now is this one about two friends who have a big argument but make up. She is very very very interested in people’s relationships and their emotions.
One day I was lecturing Noah about “don’t use that tone with your parents, young man!” and Madison kept stepping between us to say, “But I am being a really good girl! Right, mommy?” Poor Noah. She was very smug.