Adoption

In Honor Of

/ Dawn Kasal-Finley / 1 Comment

those who have in any way been touched by AIDS.  Today is World Aids Day, and I write in honor of the mothers around the world who see their only choice to give up their children while knowing they themselves are going to die.  In the US, HIV/AIDS is not a death sentence.  In the developing world, AIDS is just that–a death sentence.

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There are children whose life’s are changed each day by AIDS–they watch their parents and loved ones die.  They themselves get sick and perish.  It is a travesty that this disease that can be managed is allowed to ravage those who we don’t see as fit to be saved.  These could have been my children.   By 2010, there will be 20 million AIDS orphans around the world.

I can only imagine the fear that HIV+/Living with AIDS birth mothers live with on a daily basis–worried about passing the disease onto their children/babies.  Having to give them up/abandon them because they cannot breastfeed because of the disease and knowing that their babies will die if they don’t give them up–from lack of food.  This breaks my heart.  While I have a family built through adoption, I wish that no woman/family have to give up their children because they can’t get medical care or have access to other ways to nourish their children.

What can you do?  What will you do?

1096 Days

/ Dawn Kasal-Finley / 2 Comments

since we got to hold Noah as our son forever.  Bill fought tooth and nail with the doctor at the hospital in Addis Ababa to keep Noah with us and not send him back to the hospital for one more night.

What a journey it has been.  Happy day Noah.  We love you…picture-036.jpg

Damnit, I Thought I Had More Time

/ Dawn Kasal-Finley / 10 Comments

before I had to deal with one of the toughest questions I imagine will come my way.  We were on our way to the park yesterday and we talked about playing with the other kids and this is what my 3-year-old (not every 3 1/2 yet) asked–“Mom, will the other kids think I am different because my skin is brown?”  This comes on the heels of this comment the night before–“Mom, I want to be white like you.”

Both of these comments from my son who is only 40-months-old, literally broke my heart.  I just kept thinking, he is too young to deal with these issues yet.  I am not ready for him to be dealing with these issues.  There is nothing like feeling you are prepared and then finding out that you brought a knife to a gun fight.

We talked about being different and being the same and that there are lots of ways that we are different and lots of ways that we are the same.  We talked about how he was born in Ethiopia and that the amazing people in Ethiopia all have shades of brown skin and how his sister is also brown but a lighter brown and how his skin color is a way to always feel connected to Ethiopia and the woman that gave birth to  him and land that gave birth to all of us.

I asked him why he asked if he was different or if kids would think he was different?  Well, his best friend who will be 3 next month is a very very white little girl and they run around together all the time-mostly in as few clothes as possible and it is easy for him to see the difference in pictures of them.  I asked him how it made him feel to be different and when he sad said I asked him why.  He wants to be just like his friends.  So, I asked him if he was sad that Dayton didn’t have a penis?  I know a weird question, but when you are dealing with such complex issues with a kid who can only really see the surface–I needed something.  He laughed and said “No, she’s a girl.  Girls don’t have penises.”  We talked a little more about it and pointed out as many differences as we could about all of us and about how it is important to have people be different.

I think it went well, but it makes me realize how viciously I want to protect him from everything and how I can’t and most importantly how I don’t and can’t understand how he feels being a brown kid in a mostly white world.

So, Internets–give me your words of wisdom and experience.  Let’s help each other out.

40-Months-Old

/ Dawn Kasal-Finley / 1 Comment

Dear Noah,

You are now 40-months-old.  I know that means nothing to you–because you’re 3 and that’s a cool age.  I think back to when you came home (not quite 3 years ago) and I am amazed at how you have flourished and grown.  You and your sister have made me so happy to be a mom–so much so that I am having baby feelings as I love parenting you two so much, I can’t imagine not having more kids.  You’d like a brother but you have made it clear that you don’t want a baby brother.  You want on you can play with–so Dad and I will stick with our original plan of getting you and Bo-Bo siblings when you’re a little older.

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I just want to congratulate you on being completely potty-trained.  It is so awesome.  I love not having to change your diaper–maybe even more than you love not having ot have your diaper changed.  You are a pro at the potty and it’s like you have always just gone on the potty.  It frickin’ rocks.  You are saving us a ton of money on diapers–thank you for that.  Now, I might be able to get the iPhone 3Gs.  Just maybe.  We do have private school to pay for and even though I am gone a lot—none of my jobs pay me much money.  It’s funny now that you are potty trained fully–you often wake up with a slightly wet pull-up where as before you were potty-trained your pull-up was usually completely dry in the mornings–very bizzare.  But he we got time for night-time potty training later.  Your pricy private school doesn’t care if you pee in a diaper at night.

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School…I can’t believe that you are just two shorts months away from starting school.  You are excited about the prospect of going to big-boy school and getting to hang out with other kids your age and making new friends.  It’s exciting but it hits your mom a little hard in the heart that you actually old enough to go to school.  It seems crazy to me, but I do often forget how young you really are–as you carry yourself well and your conversational skills are pretty great.  You talk a lot about your ideas–“Mom, I have a good idea…” or “I was thinking mom and I have an idea…” etc.  You are full of ideas and plans and it will take you far in life my little man. When I asked you what to get your daddy for his birthday you were pretty sure that he would want a race track and some cars or a badminton set.  When asked if those things were for daddy or Noah-you simply replied, “Noah–but I will share them with daddy and he can play with me.”  Ah, the ideas.

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Now, there is something that we need to address–your new love/desire for sleeping in our bed.  I know you are at the age where your imagination runs wild. all. the. time.  But you will need to start sleeping in your bed.  Your dad and I have come to the conclusion/understanding that you don’t like sleeping in your room by yourself.  Your room is upstairs–far away from mommy and daddy, but you were sleeping in your bed fine.  I know we took your binky away months ago and that has been great but this whole refusal to sleep in your room in your own bed is getting a little old–although I do love it when you snuggle up against me.  I am torn.

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You have discovered a love for badminton–thanks Uncles Jay and Curt–and have become quite the baseball player.  You have been in your first kayak on Lake Michigan–while you didn’t go far–you loved every minute of it.  The love you have for your sister is amazingly strong and you attempt to be patient with her as she attempts to play with you.  You are an amazing big brother.  You are an amazing son.  Your are amazing.

Love you tons,

Mommy

367 Days Home/20-Months-Old

/ Dawn Kasal-Finley / 2 Comments

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My little Bo-Bo has been home a year now and I can hardly believe it.  There is so much I want to say about her, but I am so busy that I don’t have the time right now to do it.  I have 5 minutes while my student are on break, but I just wanted to post a few things about Zoë.  She is such a special little gal….

Dear Zoë,

You have a spirit that shines at least as bright as your brother’s–if someone had told me that a year ago I would have laughed at them.  But you are just as special as your brother and the people flock to you as they do to him.  It’s great.  The kids at daycare absolutely love you.  As soon as you enter, all I hear is “Zoë, Zoë, Zoë, Zoë!!!” and you laugh and smile and say “Hi.”  Too flippin’ cute for your own good.

You still follow your brother and mimic everything he does–maybe even more so now that you are getting older and are able to do more of the things that he can.  You try and jump and often propel yourself with such force forward that the opposite happens and you fall backwards.  You laugh uncontrollably and your laugh is so bright, happy, innocent and full of life.  It is infectious, mischievous and brilliant.

Now, there is one thing that I need to talk to you about–this whole taking your diaper off at night and peeing all over your bed has to stop as does sticking your hand into your pants after you have pooped and then wiping your hands on things and crying that you have poop on your hands.  Really–everytime you do this–and it is often (sadly–I promise to pay for therapy later since I have aired your dirty laundry online)I just want to scream at you “Don’t you remember the last time you did this?”  You will make me work as a parent.

There is so much to say–you have blossomed into an amazing little girl–with so much spunk and volume.  I don’t know how all of that life is wrapped up in your itty bitty body.  You make us all laugh and you have learned the art of standing up for yourself with the bigger kids.  You spend a bit of time in “time-out” at daycare because you hit a kid who took something you wanted or wouldn’t share with you. right. now.  But your joy and spirit ensures that everyone loves you regardless.

I look forward to watching you grow and becoming that stubborn little class clown that you will certainly grow into.  You make me laugh and make me want to get up every morning and be the best mom I can be.  You deserve it as you are the most special little girl a mother could as for.

I love you baby–more and more each day,

Mommy