What We Did This Weekend

What a weekend! It was almost 70 on Sunday, with clouds, and just as warm with sun on Saturday. And so we spent some of the weekend outside.

Saturday was my second NVC course and so I spent the whole day learning more techniques of nonviolent, or compassionate, communication. We delved more into empathy and practiced honest expressions. And I spent the day pondering how to respond to grocery store questioners. You know, the ones who ask about the kids' parentage or origins while we're picking out grapes or standing in line to check out. Rarely hostile, these strangers are curious . . . and intrusive. We don't ask white families where they came from. Unless they have accents. But Mama, who is Chinese, gets asked about once a month if she is "from here." And she just smiles and says she was born in NYC. Some then persist, still wanting the answer to their unstated question "what are you?", and begin a litany of Asian countries. When they find out she's Chinese, they usually just nod, having figured her out, I guess. And that's what happens with the kids, except there are all these layers of possibility: are they "mine"? are they adopted? where did I adopt them from? if I didn't adopt them is their father Chinese? Nope, their other mom is Chinese.

Maybe that's my answer. I talked about possiblities with two women in similar situations--one was a single mom who had adopted her Chinese daughter and another was an aunt whose nieces were from Sierra Leone and had been adopted by white parents. Both agreed that questioning was constant and upsetting and that often the best answer was as little as possible. Every conversation does not need to be about education and outreach. Or I'd never get out of the grocery store. And so, using NVC, I pondered my feelings and needs regarding this situation. In classic "giraffe," I came up with "When I hear strangers ask questions about my children's origins, I feel anxious and protective because I am needing dignity and security for my family." Now, in true OFNR (observation/feeling/need/request), I need a request--but "so would you please mind your own business?" or even "why do you ask?" aren't exactly modeling positive behaviors for my kids (too defensive). But I don't really want a quality of connection with strangers all the time so, (still using NVC jargon) entering the connection with an energy of my own choosing, I choose not to connect. I might just smile and say, "They're great, right?" and leave it at that.

While I was pondering the way to work through racism and homophobia at the grocery store, Mama took the kiddos to Mystic Seaport, where they had a wonderful time in the art studio, children's space, and new outdoor wooden boat playset. It was odd that they were there without me, but I was really glad that they were doing something special and really proud of Mama for attempting the field trip on her own (funny, it's the driving that would keep me from doing it, while the driving is the easy part for her).

Then Saturday night was my Personal Renewal Group (PRG). This month's theme was "who I am" and it was reflecting on this that lead to all the recent posts on work. Next month's theme is self-care. But I think I'm mostly good at that, in the sense that I do devote time to my physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual health each week, if not each day. In fact, tomorrow, I have an appointment to meet my new GP. From there, I'm hoping for the referral to an orthopedist and then an order for my new orthotic lift in my shoe. And the okay to keep working on my 5K training. But the PRG is a good reminder to keep it all going.

Sunday was our special children's concert at a local nature center. We went early and visited all the animals: Sis loved the horses and bunnies but not the wandering guinea hens; Bud liked the super stinky pig and the ducks. And then there were all the reptiles! They both liked all the art on the premises, both the modern steel constructions and the more traditional wooden totem poles (which they recognized from AMNH and "Little Einsteins"). Before the concert, we had lunch at a local sandwich shop, though Mama and I had picked up some falafels for ourselves and relished having something different (we're hoping to go for Ethiopian on a date while my mom is here).

Bud really liked watching the musicians warm up for the concert--a trio with a violin, viola, and cello. He realized the musicians were all wearing black--"I'm not wearing black so I can't be a musician today." There were lots of songs about animals, some as solos and some with the whole trio. Plus discussions of each instrument. Both kids sat extremely still while the music played, absorbed in watching it live (because Bud had asked if he needed to go to the potty, if they would wait for him! ). At one point, the cellist asked the kids to imagine swans for the next piece. "Can you see them?" he asked. "No!" Bud answered, his eyes shut tight while he tried so hard. We all laughed goodnaturedly, but I think he was surprised at the response and a little shy. Sis, who had started the concert writing letters on a piece of paper, was soon absorbed in the music, sitting as still as a statue. They both said they liked it.

But they liked other things more, of course. They liked the little toy in the children's room that allowed them to make impressions of their hands . . . and faces! And they liked the little wooden outdoor stage where they sang and danced while Mama fetched the car. Bud made us swear we would build a stage in the backyard--"with several sticks and the one big piece of wood on top."

And so now it's Monday, with a big week ahead: Gommie comes on Thursday, as does our Miss T up from Georgia for the week. Plus school and Chinese. And a party and an outing this weekend. So, if the posts are fewer and further between, you'll know why. Just means I'll have more to tell you next week!

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Mama's Note: She would like me to mention that people don't ask if she is from here because they assume that she is not. They say, "where are you from?" And sometimes she says NYC and they still say, "no, really?"