A Bicycle Built for Three

24 weeks.   That's how long we've been parents.  The day we met Little Man seems like a lifetime ago.  We often find ourselves looking at pictures from that time, and every time we are shocked at how much he has grown.  We miss the days of cuddling him all day long...until night comes and we realize how amazing it feels to put him in his crib, watch him over the monitor as he gets comfortable (often with his butt up in the air), and we all go to sleep.  This age is so fun; we love making him laugh and smile, and we are so excited as he races through milestones.  Being home with him has afforded me the chance to observe the minutiae of each little change. However, all good things must come to an end.  Little Man starts daycare tomorrow, and a few days after I head back to work.  These last few days have been odd as I alternately soak up the moments with him and prepare myself for having to say good bye each morning.  I've always been a "r...

Recently Husband and I had to confront the first real pushback against our family.  It's hard to relive the details here, but we were reminded why adoption is considered traumatic and why transracial adoption is seen as unethical.  Instead of racism against Little Man, we are battling those who see us as the racists.  How dare we rip Little Man from his Black community in a show of white saviorism?  Clearly we used our power of position and wealth in society to get what we wanted, consequences be damned.  None of this was said to our faces, but the message was clear. If this was a movie, this is the part where I (as the protagonist) would give my impassioned monologue to a hardened and cynical crowd. Soft music would crescendo as those who doubted me would begin to murmur and give each other glances that indicated their emotions were softening.  As the music culminates into a triumphant roar I'd smile warmly, grateful for the resolution and shared understan...