On Comments, Questions, and Responses

This subject has surfaced once again-most times I can see it coming.  I usually have an idea of what kind of comment it will be, based on previous experience.  Are they yours?  Are they adopted?  Are they brothers?  Are they biological?  These are by far the most common questions I get.  Is it appropriate?  Or maybe I should be more to the point: Is it essential or even relevant information for a complete stranger to know the answer?  At times I feel as if I am in the minority when I say absolutely not.

Let me be clear, I understand the curiosity and am more than willing to talk about our adoption experience.  When were completing our dossier and waiting for a referral, I loved to browse adoption blogs for more information, or just simply to see what life was like after all the hoopla was over.  Was it possible for us to lead a normal life again?  Were families happy or unhappy?  I found myself looking at other multi-racial families and wondering what their story was.  I get it.

What I don't get is a person's lack of sensitivity around my children and the setting in which they choose to approach me us. 

Are they yours? (Usually a grocery store comment)

I am most likely too wrapped up in trying to keep Boy O from man-handling the hot wheels at the check out line and Baby O from grabbing anything (and I mean anything) in his grasp and promptly throwing it on the ground.  Any parent can attest to how hard this is given how narrow the space is.  And yes, of course they are mine.  I don't think I would 'borrow' someone else's children just for the experience.

So, uh, is he, like, adopted? (Usually a question in where both Daddy O and are both present.  Interestingly-they do not approach Daddy O, but me-that's a whole other interesting social issue in itself)

I don't want to have this conversation at my son's soccer game when I am trying to cheer him on and/or  trying my best to mollify a baby who doesn't feel like being stationary.  Again, I don't understand what a person gains from knowing this, it would seem to me that this might be somewhat obvious.  It just isn't the time or place.

Are they brothers?  Are they biological?  (This is the most common question we get-it used to happen more often when I responded to the previous question with a simple yes)

I like Daddy O's response, but was never able to master the blank look of disbelief when he replied with Well, of course-their names are Boy O_____ and Baby O______!  And then seemlessly without a further glance or thought, would keep on walking.
This question perplexes me, because most people see nothing wrong with it, but how comfortable would they feel if someone asked them the same question about their children that were in the grocery cart?  I have a feeling it might not go over so well.

How much do you charge? (Okay, I just got this one last week at the library and had to share it-but wow-did it catch me off guard)

No, I am not a nanny, I am in fact their mother and my services would probably be too expensive anyway.  This one seemed to come out of nowhere and took my breath away-I actually had to think about what she might be referring to.  I recovered pretty quickly, but I think my initial response was a sputtered HUH? I will say for her part that she was properly horrified in realizing her error and at least I can rest easy in the fact that if I need a job, child care services might be a lucrative option.  Wink.

In conversations with many adoptive parents, I have found that each person usually has a unique way of responding to questions and comments they feel comfortable with and I think I have found mine.  I always, whether the person is well-meaning or not, reply by saying, This is my son or These are my son's.  Sometimes this is not adequate for the inquisitor, who will then follow up with another comment (as if I didn't understand the first question) and I simply repeat it over and over until the questions stop.  So far I have not had to repeat it more than three times.  Eventually, even though they may not understand they have crossed a boundary with me or it is just not the right time or place, they understand that they aren't going to get another answer.  It works for me.

Any stories you would be willing to share? What works for you?

Too Much Love

For the past six weeks or so, I have been writing fast and furious in my journal every evening.  I have written several posts and am thankful I chose not to click on the publish icon.  Something about the tone was just negative and angry.  Certain situations were beginning to seep and fester right down to my core.  Adopting transracially, I anticipated intrusive and possibly rude comments from people concerning our family, but could not foresee or understand how awkward I would feel in trying to find a graceful response in order to make a quick exit.

More often than not, my sons are present and putting me on the spot (especially in their company) leaves me incredibly flustered.  My older son can understand enough of the language to know what's going on and both can see that it makes me uncomfortable.  I am struggling to overcome the anger I feel at a complete stranger approaching me and asking personal questions concerning race and/or adoption. I do feel the need to be polite and teach my sons that anger is not a useful tool in dealing with these folks, but interestingly, it is my initial emotional response when boundaries are crossed.  I am learning with each new question and comment (you would not believe some of them if I told you) what responses work best and am also discovering that telling people a question is inappropriate and highly personal can be an educational moment for them, myself, and my sons at the same time.

Not only am I perplexed when searching for responses when dealing with adults, I have found answering questions from children to be equally as difficult.  These types of questions don't make me angry, but I just can't seem to find an answer that is satisfactory for young, inquisitive minds.  In responding to adults and children alike, Daddy O has demonstrated tremendous reserve, grace, and creativity-I continue to observe each day and hope that I can follow in his footsteps at some point.  One scenario that kept repeatedly confounding me last week was a little boy who would stop in front of our house on his bicycle as Baby O and I would play on the front lawn.  He would stop and stare at us for a few seconds, furrow up his brow, and say "Why do you have that baby?".  I would usually respond with something along the lines of "Because I love him.".  This of course was completely inadequate for his 5 year old mind and his next question would be "But why do you have THAT baby?".  My next response: "Because I do, I guess.".  Still unsatisfactory, but he would take off down the block and be back the next day with the same line of questioning.  This went on for about four days until Daddy O was present for the question.  I knew it was coming and was cringing at what might come out of Daddy O's mouth (I know, I know, where is the faith, Mommy O?).  Here is how the conversation went:

Boy on bike:  "Why do you have THAT baby?"

Daddy O (without hesitation): "Well, we just had too much love in our house and needed to spread it around."

Boy on bike: "What do you mean?"

Daddy O: "Well, our whole house was filled with boxes and buckets of love-so much so that it started to spill over into the garage and we had no room to park our cars.  Love was everywhere and we were running out of buckets and boxes, so we needed a family to soak up some of the love.  That's why we have THIS baby."

Boy on bike (eyes wide, looking at all the boxes and buckets in our garage): "Oh.  Okay."

He hasn't asked the question since.

Being witness to this short conversation completely washed all the anger right out of me. I will never be able to control or predict when and where questions/comments are going to present themselves, but what my husband taught me in that moment was to take a deep breath, don't hesitate, have courage and be honest in the moment-if it takes a bit of creativity and humor-even better.

Please let me clarify that my definition of honesty in this case is being honest with myself-this doesn't mean that I need to feel any obligation to respond or answer.

I love THIS baby.