Happy Birthday Cooper!!!

Or maybe not so much. The wonderful couple who squeezed Cooper's birthday present into their suitcase sent us this picture. They got to see him when they adopted their son a few weeks ago. Their exact words were, "Cooper is a chunky monkey with a strong set of pipes." Great. :-)

So I dug out the medical report they sent us when he was about 4 months old. If he stays in the same percentile on the growth chart by the time he's 15 months (desperately hope to be there by then) he'll be too tall for 18 month clothes. Move over Yao Ming!

Still no word on when we can travel. Our agency assures us we've not been forgotten. Our file is in "room 2" at the China Center for Adoption Affairs in Beijing which means we're simply waiting on the last precious piece of paper. Meanwhile, Cooper is quickly outgrowing every item of clothing in his closet.

When your family is biracial and you've become a family through adoption you have to pick and choose when to educate people, and when to "let it go." I've never given much thought to our blog address getting Cooper until last week. We were in Ikea when a woman stopped us (in the plant section if you want to picture the scene), looked at the girls and bellowed, "Where'd ja get em?"

First, I looked around to make sure she was really talking to me. Then I looked at the candles in my cart and said, "Over there in the candle aisle." (I know, I know. Sarcasm. But it's so fun sometimes.) She said, "No, I mean your beautiful China dolls. It's horrible how they just throw girls away over there."

Not fun anymore.

Of course, I knew she was talking about the girls and I am usually very patient and more than happy to help people understand adoption -- that Emily and Grace are my own ("Can't you have kids of your own?"). That I'm a mom just like you and that adopting my children wasn't noble or selfless. ("You have such a big heart. They are so lucky.") When you think of me as noble, you make me a different kind of a mom than you. And I'm not. I'm just their mom, just like you are your kids' mom. And no, they are not really that lucky. They lost their birth family, their culture, their language, their home.

I have to admit. That day, I wasn't very patient. I snapped at her, actually. "They're not dolls, they're children. And they can hear you." Nothing like teaching your kids how to deal with racism with grace and composure.

But it made me think of our blog address and I desperately hope getting Cooper doesn't offend other adoptive families. I didn't mean it like, "Where'd ja get em?" More like, "Tutor Time called. Emily is sick and I have to go get her."

Every day is an education. For me and those close to us. A woman we met at Chinese school, who has become a dear friend, just asked me last night if I was going to tell Emily and Grace they were adopted. (Head tilt) Huh?