celebrations

Today my girl turned eleven.

Eleven?!  How did this happen?!

I got up early this morning so I could steam dumplings for her breakfast. Yeah, I know. This is how I roll. The Husband groans at my celebrating antics.  He is the eldest of four, his mother having all her babies before she was thirty. Birthdays are not a big deal for him whereas I, on the other hand, was like an only child my brother being 9 years older than me. The Husband says my mother spoiled me and I used to get defensive about it, but now I say if showering someone with love and attention is to spoil, then spoil away!

So while Cowgirl is at school, I've been hiding her birthday presents around the house. She requested a scavenger hunt for her gifts and as I am still working on completing one, I am grateful for the extra few hours. Later in the day, I went to write up the clues when I drew a complete blank on where I hid her big gift! I mean for a good five minutes I could not remember where I stashed the-one-gift-she-really-really-really wanted!

It was both hilarious and horrible. A menopausal mommy moment of utter terror and angst.

So I walked around the house, retracing my mental dialogue (yes, I could remember the spots I chose not to use ... inside the grandfather clock ... in a desk drawer ...) until finally I stumbled upon it!

I got to take a break to go buy her a sub sandwich for lunch and then bring it to her at school. I love sitting with her classmates in the lunchroom and seeing her in her element. She sits with the boys and one new friend peppered me with questions. "Are you both from China?" I explained I was born in New Jersey and isn't that equally exotic? He then deemed it "cool" that Cowgirl got to live in China first.  

It is hard to remember those years waiting for Cowgirl, wondering about the child living in China who would one day be my daughter. Eleven years ago I stood outside under a full harvest moon and offered up my prayer for a healthy child. At that time, I had no idea we would be adopting. 

Eleven years ago, just two days before that same full moon, Cowgirl was born. In China the eight full moon of the lunar year - our Harvest Moon -  is known as the MId-Autumn Moon Festival or 中秋節 Zhong Qiu Jie. It is the second most important holiday and traditionally a time for family reunions and celebrations. It is said that under the full moon, we are reunited with all of our loved ones as the moon shines down upon us all.

In our family we talk about the Moon Goddess, 嫦娥  Chang-e, who brought us together as a family.  I tell Cowgirl that she was the one reaching out to me under that full moon all those years ago. As we celebrate her 11th birthday, this year we will celebrate the Moon festival just a few days later. We have moon cakes - 月饼 yue bing - which we've already tucked into. Cowgirl and I like the red bean or lotus paste ones; the traditional cakes have a hard boiled egg inside which we don't like; the Husband shuns them all!  

We combine these traditions from her birth country with new traditions of our own. This morning she chose to wear her Chinese Camp tee shirt. It could have easily been her beloved Kansas Jayhawk tee. She doesn't like cake, so I bake her a birthday pie. This year she wants a strawberry refrigerator pie.  She has also requested steak for her birthday dinner. Last year, it was sushi. That is how she rolls ...

So yes, I will spoil her on this, Her Day which actually is not all that different from other days. With the exception of me getting up early for the dumplings. 

I wouldn't have it any other way. For she has given me so much more than I could have ever imagined 11 years ago under that full moon. She is my reminder to leave open ended the manner in which I want my prayers answered. Why put limits upon what the Universe can conjure up? 

Eleven ... I still cannot reconcile how this little girl ...

turned into this no-longer-so-little girl?

 Thankfully, she is keeping me young-ish ... at least in body, if not mind!

the a-ha moments keep coming (summer camp reflections)

It's hard to believe but this was the fifth year of Chinese Heritage camp for Cowgirl and myself.

My, how things have changed! 

And yet some things, sweetly, appear to be eternal.

Every summer we make the 500+ mile drive to Colorado for Cowgirl to spend time with old and new friends.  Camp is not only about crafts and field day and songs and goofing with your friends (although that all is a big part of the fun) 

It is also about exploring Chinese heritage and culture ...

Camp is also a place where we explore what it means to be a family brought together through adoption. While we attend camp for our kids, I know for myself it is a place where I can share freely with other parents the gifts and challenges I experience raising my girl. It is also a place where I find and pass on valuable resources and perspectives.  (I've shared in past years the role camp plays for both of us in cultivating a sense of belonging.)

I shouldn't be surprised, but I always am by the a-ha moments that arise, especially in ripe and emotionally rich situations like camp. It is a time when I see my girl through the eyes of other families who understand. 

While I strive to share here the experiences of my life that help me learn and grow, the details of my girl's story are hers to explore, define and share should she choose to do so.  Trickier is knowing when my story - or rather, my wounds, my triggers -  have become entangled with hers. The a-ha moment (or duh! as I have come to think of such realizations) came to me in an adult workshop entitled Will the REAL Mom Please Stand Up?  

Presented by a family communication scholar/educator Beth Suter Trautman, who is also a camp parent, this workshop considered the deeply rooted assumption that authentic motherhood is typically viewed as stemming from a particular set of biological processes which are believed to induce an irreplaceable, biologically-based mother-child bond. U.S. culture continues to remind us: real mother = biological mother. (Beth Suter)

One important tool I've gained through camp and presenters like Beth is to make obvious the assumptions. While The Husband and I were waiting for Cowgirl, many people gleefully would say "Now that you are adopting, you will get pregnant." While the intention was harmless the underlying assumption is anything but.  I finally pointed out to a friend why that comment was so hurtful: it implied that what we really wanted was to get pregnant -  to have our own child (another injurious assumption; as if our adoptive daughter would be something other than our own) - and that adoption was our second and less desired, alternative.  The reality was we felt in our hearts, and then actively chose, adoption as the means to build our family.  

A particularly painful experience happened shortly after we had come home with Cowgirl. A woman came over to my home to show me some educational materials and she brought her young daughter. Cowgirl was napping when they arrived but woke up during the visit.  She saw the two strangers in her space, the girl playing with her toys, and Cowgirl reacted with an epic meltdown.  As I tried to calm her down, the woman remarked that having breastfed her child meant she was better able to soothe and comfort her child. What went unstated - but implied - was my deficiency and lack.  If didn't give birth to my child, I couldn't be a full or authentic mother.

While I have been aware of reassuring my girl that I will always be here for her - that my bond and commitment to her is and always will be solid and eternal -  I have failed to fully acknowledge my own anxieties.  The a-ha for me was to realize that my wounds require tending to -  or at the very least -  must be recognized in order for me to parent my girl from a place of love and strength. Otherwise, I will forever and always be tripping across my own shadows and triggers.

I belong heart and soul to my girl.  But the fear that lies hidden way way way deep within is that I am replaceable; that I am somehow deficient, not a real mother.  The threats to my "realness" come not only from the assumptions of a culturally idealized monomaternal motherhood form  (the assumption we can have only one true mother - Beth Suter) but from the deeply embedded roots this ideology has woven within my own consciousness.  My girl is on her journey of identity involving a complex and emotionally charged set of ideas to understand, reframe and claim, but I am also on a journey of my own. 

One exercise we did in another workshop (Taming Your Triggers) was a two minute silent meditation.  The point of the exercise was to become aware of how easily we give in to reflexively reacting rather than witnessing what we are feeling/experiencing and holding all that in spacious and nonreactive awareness.  It was also a chance to sit and become aware of all that was bubbling underneath the level of consciousness. For me, I was aware of immense fatigue (from a long drive), sadness over my own short fuse that morning (rushing to get to camp), and the harsh criticism I leveled at myself. 

The a-ha for me was recognizing that while I often consider the underlying factors at play in Cowgirl's reactions (she is hangry - hungry angry - or tired or stretched thin emotionally or confused, overwhelmed etc.) I rarely give such consideration to myself.  My eruptions (yes, I know all parents have them) are seldom due to the circumstances that provoked them - Cowgirl dawdling when we need to get going - but fueled by the toxic pool of unexpressed, unacknowledged  or uncared for feelings, fears, and misguided beliefs that have been simmering within me for days/weeks/decades. These weeds, as my friend and mentor Nissa would point out, leech vital nutrients from the soil of my being, depleting me and my ability to nurture my child and myself. 

Every year at camp I take in the beauty and power of my girl finding herself in her community, blooming and thriving under the love and care of this village of virtual sisters, brothers, cousins, aunts and uncles.  

For both of us, our journeys represent a widening of this circle of belonging: acknowledging and fostering polymaternalism (the reality that my child is connected to and has two mothers) which is an essential piece in the larger picture of connection and identity. For both of us it will require weeding out limiting notions and beliefs about who we are, who we can be and how we will co-create family, community and connection.  As I tend to the small plot that is my garden - myself - I  hope and trust that by clearing my weeds, sunlight will fall more evenly upon the patch of soil that is my girl's so that she can see clearly where the blooms and where the weeds lie. 

May the a-ha's and the bright moments keep coming!

belonging ...

Just as I predicted, I set down my thoughts on tribe only to glimpse a more profound expression of what it means to belong.

 

I believe it was The Man (Mr. O'Donohue) who points out that belonging can be broken down into be longing ... 

Distance awakens longing; closeness is belonging. Yet they are always in dynamic interflow with each other. When we fix or locate them definitively, we injure our growth. (Eternal Echoes:Celtic Reflections on Our Yearning to Belong)

 

This past weekend, Cowgirl and I were at Chinese Heritage camp.  It is specifically for children adopted from China (there are other camps for different heritages such as Korean or Latin American) and their families to come together to celebrate and share what it means to be a family blending two cultures, two racial identities. Camp is a place where we discuss how we navigate the turbulent waters of belonging that our children face and which our families strive to fashion and understand. The children learn about their Chinese heritage and they have sessions where they share and examine their experiences and feelings about being adopted and their Chinese American identity.

A place where I belong ... Family was the slogan on this year's camp t-shirts. This was our fourth year attending camp; we have attended with friends we have known since China and our adoption trip.  This year we were joined by two other families from our adoption travel group and whom we haven't seen in seven years, since that initial trip. 

I have always thought of Cowgirl as fairly outgoing, friendly, and talkative.  I watched her this year fall into her daisy group with ease.  Of course, the routine was familiar to her and she was with her good friend (we make a point of our two families visiting at least once a year beside meeting up at camp) and the group of four girls banded together in after camp play at the motel swimming pool.  I forwarded pictures onto the Husband who is away for the month for a work project.  I got to spend time with the mommies and catch up on our girls' experiences, stories and growth, sharing insights and latching on to tools and tips for parenting the strange creature that is a pre-preteen. 

Upon our return, I am aware of how deeply I miss and long for the environment of camp.  I miss my mommy posse and the conversations where I don't have to explain the deeper layer of anxieties, the questions and concerns that we all struggle to integrate into our parenting toolbox. At camp, I am free of the assumptions and misperceptions faced in my everyday world.  No, I am not her Grandmother.  No, we chose adoption and it was our first choice, not a second option.  No, we are the lucky ones.  How much did your biological child cost you?

But that all pales in comparison to the well-meaning but intrusive questions and comments my girl receives on a regular basis. Aware of my deep longing for the community of adoptive families experienced at camp, I realized the obvious joy and ease Cowgirl expressed throughout the weekend was in no small part due to her being in an environment where the other campers and counselors look like her and where all the families resemble her family.  

The Husband commented "In every photo, her smile steals the show."  Her smile.  I look at the pictures and I recognize a buoyancy and brightness in her smile, in her movement and being,  that goes beyond her normal outgoing nature.  What I see is a girl completely at ease in herself and at ease in her world.  I doubt she is even aware of it, but I can see how she is able to let down her guard and just be in a way that she does not enjoy in the predominantly white community where we live. While we try to bridge the gap, there will always be a gap.  

 

Mind the gap - that is what the recorded announcements say in the London subway stations.  The danger being one of getting a foot caught in the gap, tripping or falling.  I'm not sure how we will mind the gap.  Perhaps the bridge over that gap is the family -  and the tribe - we find and create for ourselves and our child through communities.  Camp, martial arts, other families and groups where we feel seen and loved and safe enough to be our unique selves. There is also the invaluable gift of role models  - the generous, loving, attentive counselors - who provide my child clear image of who she can become. One child at camp told her mother "I can tell there are people here who really care about me." It is in that care that we take shelter and then grow.

The arduous task of being human is to balance longing and belonging so that they work with and against each other to ensure that all the potential gifts that sleep in the clay of the heart may be awakened and realized in this one life. (Eternal Echoes)

Family and friends who see us for who we are and love the crazy, fragile, magnificent and wild beings that we embody ...

Such a gift I never want to take for granted. I am grateful ... and yet I hunger for more ...

camp fun (dragons & ♥)

For the fourth year in a row, Cowgirl and I have headed to Colorado for Chinese adoption heritage camp. Initially, we went out to spend time with friends we have known since our families were formed almost six years ago in China. 

 

This was our third year attending Heritage Camps and it is now a tradition for us to make this journey every year.  The highlight of the weekend for my girl is the time she gets to spend with the energetic and enthusiastic counselors, young adults who share with her the experience of international adoption. 

 

It is an exhausting but rich experience.  In addition to classes geared toward Chinese culture, there are crafts, field day, and a session where the children have an opportunity to discuss with their peers their feelings regarding adoption.  For the adults there are workshops and panel discussions with adult adoptees, licensed child/family therapists as well as sessions covering Chinese culture and traditional medicine.  It is a chance to gather new tools and resources as we wade into uncharted emotional territory.  I am grateful for the generosity of so many young people who are reaching out to support our children. (An incredible resource is this website created by two Korean adoptees who offer free support for families both online and in person as they travel to events like Heritage Camp speaking to young adults and parents.)  

The overall tone of the weekend is one of chaotic play as the kids spend hours away from their parents and in the care of patient and able-bodied counselors. 

Parents participate in camp and this year I was enlisted to help make not one, but multiple dragons!  I helped Cowgirl's group make dragon puppets ...

 

...  which they quickly turned upon their counselor.

I assisted the middle schoolers in making 3 large dragons for the end of camp parade.  Cowgirl's group raised the most funds for the camp charity and were the first to perform a dragon dance with their creation.

 

The highlight of camp is the dim sum farewell gathering where Cowgirl makes the rounds sitting in the laps or climbing on the backs of her favorite counselors. Her favorite is the young man who was her counselor for her first camp 3 years ago.  

Apparently there was a surreptitious "half belly kiss" delivered while saying goodbye and my girl and her best friend reenact the giddy moment. (I remember how they used to declare that they would marry each other ... oh, how quickly they grow up!)

There is much to digest emotionally, and slowly deeper issues rise to the surface as we process our mutual camp experiences.  I am grateful for the friends my daughter and I share, for their love and support as we unravel our family's story.  

We are blessed to have their presence in our history ... and in our future. 

(Any pictures of the mommies wait patiently upon our girl's disposable cameras, although I suspect we may have been overlooked in the glee of photographing their beloved counselors!) 

joy-filled presence (august art bash & family celebrations)

We have been partying hard my friends. There has been much celebrating – balloons, cake, dancing and beaucoup arty goodness spilled across the table. We surpassed our initial goal and are working diligently towards our new goal of raising $1400 for Half the Sky foundation. There are two weeks left in this art marathon and each step, each painting, each and every donation matters.

But we haven’t forgotten this marathon is also a celebration of the connections and inspirations that have brought us to this place in our journey. And it seems fitting that this month-long festival of art and joy encompasses another significant celebration for today is the 5-year anniversary of our family.

Five years ago in an office complex in Guangzhou China I became a mother. The moment Cowgirl was placed in my arms my life set off on a new trajectory. To say she has profoundly altered my understanding of myself is an understatement. She has moved my heart and soul into closer alignment with my truth. She has tested me, challenged me, inspired, humbled, awed and yes, frustrated me beyond belief. But being her mother has cracked wide open the shell I had unconsciously built around my spirit and I am loving every minute of this wild and crazy ride.

My life has been the clichéd experience of “when the student is ready, the teacher will come.” Repeatedly the teachers I need for the lessons at hand have miraculously manifested in my life, in my dreams and in my meditations.

This week’s special guest I feel very blessed to have in my life as I consider her a guide and peer on this spiritual/creative journey. The first time I came upon Pixie Campbell’s blog and etsy shop, I knew I had found a kindred spirit. In my own practice I had been experimenting with sacred rituals - attuning to the insights and teachings of the natural world around me. My habit had been to turn to books, to experts and teachers to teach me how to listen and know myself. I was breaking away from that and felt a little “out there” until I found Pixie.
Through her writing, her painting and now in her SouLodge Pixie invites us all to tap into the wisdom that is our birthright as children of this earth. While she offers the example of her practices - sharing what has supported and guided her on her journey - she encourages us to look within ourselves and to trust our intuition and instincts.

And like all of the contributors to our party, Pixie is generously offering two prizes … and she let me pick them out! I knew immediately the first prize has to be her deck of 30 totem cards.

image courtesy of Pixie Campbell

for more info go here

I love and use this deck regularly. On the back of each card is her reading for that guide and each image is taken from an original work of art. I prop my card against my altar for daily inspiration.

The second prize from Pixie is a print and I struggled to decide which one to pick! In the end the image and the message of this critter seemed tailor made for the spirit of our party:

Pink Fox by Pixie Campbell

"She is the voice of the conversation taking place in our hearts right now."

full description found here

Meanwhile, Cowgirl and I were inspired this week by one of our favorite birds, the small but fearless hummingbird.

hummingbird pin i rediscovered!

This summer we were blessed to see many of these little warriors of joy while on vacation in Colorado. Their presence always reminds me to savor the delights of life which are all too fleeting, remembering that magic is available to one who seeks it out with passion and energy.

Our offering this week is Joy-Filled Presence

6 by 6 inches mixed media on gesso board

The all-important rules (how to enter to win): if you haven’t already done so, get thee to our Half the Sky pledge page and make a donation. If you’ve already donated, then you are automatically entered into the drawing for one of Cowgirl and my paintings. (Only one more painting to go after this week!)

To qualify for one of Pixie’s prizes you must have made a donation and either leave a comment here on or email me at: Lishofmann(at)novia(dot)net. Receive additional chances to win by blogging, tweeting, linking on facebook or any other means of helping us spread the word. Be sure to let me know in the comments or through email.

For more information about this art marathon and Half the Sky foundation, you can go here. To catch up on the last 3 weeks of partying madness you can peruse all entries here (or click the cute little button I made on the right hand sidebar!)

We will draw the names on Sunday night and post the winners next Monday, August 29 when we will announce our final week of prizes.

It has been a whirlwind of emotions and energy ... thank you all for your continued support, encouragement and enthusiasm! I am taking time to savor all these gifts of connection: family, friends, guides, and sparks of inspiration that brighten my world.

"Your beloved and your friends were once strangers. Somehow at a particular time, they came from the distance toward your life. Their arrival seemed so accidental and contingent. Now your life is unimaginable without them."

- John O'Donohue, from Anam Cara

our first night, 5 years ago in China

What is calling for your attention? What guardian or guide is assisting you presently? Who would you like to call on for support?

Update: Congratulations to all our winners from last week! Mourning Dove Love - Diana; Faith in her Path - Karen; Awakening - Meegan and Effy's journal - Esther. Your prizes will be sent out soon!