1. Let’s get the touchy one over with first: remember the Top Ten Annoying Things People Say To Adoptive Parents That, Even Though They Mean Well, Drive Adoptive Parents Up A Tree? Well, an eleventh one, one that actually should’ve made the list but was inadvertently omitted, reared its ugly head a couple of times early last week. Permit me to address it here:
In the United States (and certainly in our situation), birthmothers do not “become rich off of adoption fees.” The considerable fee paid by adoptive parents is applied to adoption agency costs, payments for the services of adoption lawyers, court fees, and other costs associated with the facilitation of the adoption process. Birthmothers do not receive a dime of the money, as the buying and selling of children is highly illegal. Furthermore, the inherent implication that my child is a commodity, is, to put it mildly, hurtful.
2. Secondly, on a completely unrelated (and much happier) note, last night Marcus and I went to hang out (or “lime,” as we say in Trinidad) over at the home of some friends. It was the first time in the six months we’ve been in Trinidad that we limed with friends without Girlie-girl. Can I tell you how excited I was about this? I mean, while Marcus and I are pretty good about scheduling frequent “date nights,” this was the first night I had been out and socialized with a group of other adults in a VERY. LONG. TIME. I went out and bought a new skirt and shoes for the occasion, I was that excited. We talked politics! And travel! And current events! And not once did I have to change a dirty diaper, or respond to “Mummy!!! Mummy!!!! MUMMY!!!” during the entire evening!
Well, anyway, I thought it was a big deal.
3. And finally, today my cousin Jason came over with his beautiful wife and baby. I’m the oldest of the cousins on my mother’s side of my family, while Jason is the youngest, by 8 years. Notwithstanding our age difference, at one time Jason and I were quite close, having practically lived together for 2 years of our childhood with our grandparents. Today was the first time we’d seen each other since we had each married and become parents, so we pretty much spent the entire afternoon staring at each other and laughing to ourselves. I mean, okay, even I admit the concept of me as a mom is pretty damned funny, but little Jason as a dad? Come ON!
And incidentally, Jason’s 6-month-old son, Jamal, sets new standards of choonkocity, even given the little rug burn on his nose:
Even Alex couldn’t get enough (much to Jamal’s considerable consternation).