Team Gray!

I remember meeting her like it was yesterday. Two parents in the nursery on a Wednesday night? It was obvious that we weren’t nursery volunteers; we were both chasing around our specific children. I was with Imani, who, even though she was now a year old, had never gotten used to the nursery. She was with two small boys, Isaac and Simeon. Isaac was 3, Simeon, 1, they were around the same size.

Our church is very multi-racial, so it’s nothing to see a white woman with black or brown children. I assumed I would see some sort of family resemblance when I met Miriam’s husband. When I met Don, he looked more like Miriam than the boys.

I realized that they were a different kind of a family. An adoptive family. I never said anything about it, although I had many questions. “How did your family come to be?” was chief among my questions. But I’m not so good at asking questions. I did more observation.

When we met, Don and Miriam were transitioning out of their old church to come to ours full time. At the time, they only came on Wednesday nights, but because their younger daughter Linnea was feeling isolated at their old church, they decided to make the leap to our church full time. They had just lost some close friends to a move. They were in the market for new friends for their family. Miriam reached out to me.

I wasn’t quite sure what to do, being awkward at the friend dance to say the least. Our first big outing together was a trip to the zoo. I had hurt my knee running or something, and had just started walking without crutches the day before or so. Imani had just turned 1 and wasn’t walking much, and she was prone to too much sun, so we had her in a huge bonnet and a pink umbrella stroller. I fed the kids at McDonald’s before getting to the park. I traveled that light. Miriam had four kids, a wagon, a cooler full of snacks, various toys, cups, backpacks, etc. It made my head swim to see it all. Her daughters, at 5 and 7 cheerfully greeted us by name. “Hello, Mrs. Gray! Hello, Ayanna, etc,” despite the fact that this was our first time meeting them.

I was impressed at her advanced preparation. Well, I was impressed by her ways. She knew her children so well. When Annalise, her oldest daughter started getting anxious, Miriam calmly insisted that she get some water to cool down. When she dawdled at the water fountain, Miriam joked that we’d all gotten older while waiting for her to finish.

It was a long, hot day at the zoo. Isaac got cut on a prop in the safari exhibit and threw up from the sight of blood, or the heat, or the shock of it all.

We started getting together regularly. For a few years, we committed each Thursday to each other, usually hanging out at her house, or one of the many parks in the area. We swapped children. They have known Joy and Esteban their whole lives, and Miriam was one of the few people that babysat Yasha for us as well.

Their family has grown since we’ve known them too. They had an exciting family adventure in Columbia in 2003, when they adopted Camilo. He was almost 8 years old, making him their second oldest child. When they brought Camilo home, there was so much to do, teaching him English, changing the family dynamic, as well as his education. Miriam homeschools all the children, but Camilo has special needs that require extra tutors and institutions. He is blind, like Miriam’s father. Now he is a well established member of the family.

And this January, the family embarked on another adoption adventure. They’re back in Columbia adopting a little girl. Shaleah is also blind, and from all accounts, bursting full of life and energy. Miriam sends the most wonderful accounts of their adventure, complete with pictures and video. It is so cheery to look at the pictures of exotic birds and flowers while snow and wind blow in your background. I am trying hard to imagine little Shaleah in the snow, and it’s hard to see right now. But their journey towards bringing her home is coming to an end and we will see them soon. I hope my little girls and her little girl can be good friends.

A recent post sent me on an ebay odyssey.

I wanted, no NEEDED to complete that Kenya collection. I mean, I had never intended to have just the one complexion of doll if she came in 3 complexions. Who does that? Don’t answer that. So anyway, the first time I searched ebay for my illusive 90s friend, I came up empty. Then I looked again, and found a few dolls.

I decided to watch one, and then forgot all about it and lost it at auction. Boo. So I got serious and searched again. I found two dolls–one dark and one medium brown, with reserve prices. So I said later for the auction, and I just bought them outright. We were so excited when the first one came in the mail! We even took a picture of her box, but we’ll spare you that madness.

This first Kenya doll that came was the darker doll, who cost a little more than the medium one. She was brand new in a box that said it was made in 2001. I had no idea. She came with hair lotion! And beads! And rubber bands! The only problem was her hoochie clothes that showed her belly, 90s style. We put the dingy kente dress from another ancient doll upon her body, and the babies happily did and undid her hair for days.

Yesterday, the babies received a Valentine’s Day gift: Kenya #2. She came in a beautiful kente ensemble, with hoop earrings and painted on shoes. (the other new Kenya had detachable shoes). Her box was very old, ala 1993, and her hair looked like it had been styled numerous times before. She was gently used. Here she is with her new sister.

and here’s the complete set

In a related note (sort of), Curtis found this cultural curiosity while I was scouring ebay for my little pieces of nostalgia.

“Of course you must get this doll,” he informed me. Whose doll collection can be complete without the Cookie Oreo Fun Barbie? Mattel actually recalled this doll when they found out that calling a black person an oreo is not a good thing. hmmmm. Now they’re collectibles. I won her in an auction, and she arrived today. The babies had started taking her out of the box when I told them to stop. Maybe someday I’ll let them play with her, but now I just want to savor her oreo cookie goodness for myself.

Yes! It is cold and flu season, thankyouverymuch. But I don’t mean that time of year. . .

Yes! It is snowed in season, as a view from any window will attest. But I don’t mean that time of year. . .

It’s proof that snowflakes and hearts don’t mix. . .

and you have little hearty scraps all over the place. . .

it’s the time that valentines explode all over the room

and little people are intently concentrating on creating beauty with scissors and paper

and I make them write all over it. (See how I wrote it out first and told Joy to copy? That’s how I teach writing!)

Esteban working on his preschool “E”

Finished at last! (Because Mommy put away all the scissors and the paper)

until. . .

“Mommy, can we play with play doh?”