Our Seasonal Visitors

They arrived last night—on the heels of subzero temperatures and flurries. Four wee elves. (Sometime after the Colts lost a painful game in overtime to the Cowboys.)

The Christmas season has officially begun, now that the elves are ensconced safely within our home quietly observing the happenings and behavior of the kids and giving Santa daily reports through Christmas Eve.

The elves, heads just peeking out of some of the stockings “hung by the chimney with care” in hopes that Santa will see fit to fill the colorful oversized knits full-to-bursting on Christmas morning, were found by Greyson this morning. He was giddy with happiness over his discovery and immediately soared into his annual “hyper-drive.”

 Perfect! ; )

Only the presence of his elf will help Greyson “maintain” himself and my/our sanity through the holidays. I remember well the feelings: the giddiness, the magic, the sacredness of the season. I am thankful that my mom instilled such a sense of wonder and appreciation in me and kept it going for so any years. ( Junior high. Yep. No need to comment…)

Aubry. That’s another story. She discovered this past summer that the Easter Bunny, Tooth Fairy and Santa don’t exist in the real sense of how we exist. Aubry had left her years of loving fairies, make-believe and dressing up. She was thrilled to be “in on it.” Well, she thought she was… But disappointment lurks as she adjusts to what knowing the truth behind the magic means. Aubry has become a keeper, like the rest of us. A keeper of tradition and the sacred knowledge of that special magic. And because she loves her brother, she will embrace perpetuating the magic for him.

Thankful

Like many I reflect on what it means to be thankful as we arrive at the American holiday and tradition of Thanksgiving. Weeks ago Mark traveled to China for business, his first trip back to the birth county of our daughters. I know my husband’s perspective was vastly different than those he traveled with, because his previous trips were with me and were profoundly emotional and sacred. His thoughts of how we became parents again, savoring the memories of meeting each of our girls (then infants), adopting them, spending concentrated time in their birth provinces, and arriving home, were ever present.

In the two-year span between the girls’ adoptions, China changed at a speed that stunned us. We knew it was likely we would have difficulty recognizing China when we would return in the future, with our entire crew.

Mark arrived home last week with conflicting feelings and few keepsakes because, as he said, “There is nothing you can’t get here (in the U.S.). China has become so westernized, that it has lost itself.”

I feel beyond sad. My daughters’ birth culture is changing or disappearing at an alarming rate. Their birth language (Mandarin) still remains—even as the trend to speak English picks up, as does the rich folklore and traditions. But westernization, “progress,” is everywhere.

There is so much to be thankful for—our health, our incredible family, friends…I could go on. But what I am also thankful for is travel. Parenting children of other races, ethnicities and culture takes some “doing.”  I am thankful we were able to travel when we did (it was required, although we would have gone even if it wasn’t). I am thankful we continue to travel with the kids instead of spending our vacations at amusement parks and U.S. resorts, enriching ourselves and our children with their birth cultures and other cultures too.

We have fought hard to keep those memoires—sights, sounds, smells, and tastes of China—for our girls, because we knew they would likely disappear before they again experienced the country of their births and because they are part of our daughters’ birth histories. While we watch the growth of China and her related aches and pains as she rapidly moves forward eclipsing her ancient history, we are excited at the prospect of doing more with her, but we also ache for what was, the visage hard to ignore.

When Mama’s Relaxed…

Like Mark, I take several days to unwind before I can embrace relaxing when we travel with the kids (I know, I know, travel with kids and relaxation is a dichotomy…). But this time was different. Vacation actually kicked-in before we hit the road, even though we had another seventeen year-old with us.

I was challenged by Mark not to write while we were on vacation. As hard as it is to admit, I needed to take a break.

Very difficult, but it turned out to be the best thing because I could turn off my head, sleep and replenish. Seems my resting follows along the lines of, “When Mama’s happy, everyone’s happy.” The difference was evident and the kids followed by example, embracing their time with one another and sleeping in.

Of course, the fact that I was available made me less “popular” with my four. Haven’t you found that your kids need you the most when you are the least accessible?

The “handsomes” (Holden and his friend) spent time sleeping, eating obscene amounts of food (as usual), networking with other vacationing teens (primarily of the female persuasion), and playing pick-up games of beach volleyball and soccer. I was lulled into a peaceful state as the South Carolina wet heat seeped into my body through my fingers that trailed through the waters of the estuary. Further contentment issued forth as I dug my toes into the fine warm sand, occasionally cooled by the Atlantic Ocean waves, or played a game of bocce with the kids.

Next year I’m leaving my computer. Yep…