Posts Tagged Under Guatemala
Biological is Not the Definition of Family
It happened again on Saturday morning after Olivia’s ballet class. A woman I have never met before, the mother of another dance student, saw me with Olivia and Mateo and out of nowhere asked, “Are they really brother and sister?”
I gulped and took a deep breath, after which I smiled and replied, “They are now.”
This particular question is the one I get asked most often by all kinds of people—from strangers in the grocery store to teachers in my children’s classrooms—and the one to which I still haven’t found the correct answer. I’ve heard other adoptive parents recommend saying, “Why do you ask?” or “They’re not biologically, but otherwise, yes.” Although both of those options seem like good answers, I haven’t yet found a way to make them roll off my tongue. Continue… »
By Jessica O'DwyerSwimming Back to Myself
Whenever my husband, Tim, and I reminisce about activities we used to do B.C. (before children), one of the first to come up is swimming. I don’t mean splashing around in the shallow end playing “motorboat, motorboat,” or sitting on the pool deck and clapping during our kids’ swimming lessons (as much as I relish both of those activities). I mean getting in the water and swimming laps hard enough that you elevate your heart rate and get that longed-for endorphin hit, the one that leaves you a much calmer and happier person than when you started.
I grew up around water, in an old stucco house in New Jersey a block from the Atlantic Ocean. Summers, I spent every day fully immersed, riding waves for so many hours that when I finally emerged late in the afternoon, the tips of my fingers were shriveled and my throat was raw from swallowing so much salt.
By Jessica O'DwyerWhen Will People See?
Recently, I was at Home Depot when a white man came up to me in the aisle and jerked his chin in the direction of my shopping cart where my two children, ages 7 and 4, sat chomping on hot pretzels.
“Where are they from?” the man asked. “Mexico?”
“Guatemala,” I said uncertain where the conversation was headed.
“Well,” said the man, folding his arms. “Let’s hope they bring something good to this country, instead of just taking everything.”
When I told this story to a friend in my neighborhood, another adoptive mom with a daughter from Guatemala in addition to two blonde-haired biological kids, she nodded.
“I was at Walgreen’s with the girls, and Maria wandered down the aisle with a candy bar in her hand. A man came up to her and said ‘You know you have to pay for that, missy.’” My friend shook her head. “Mind you, Maria’s two blonde-haired sisters were walking around with candy bars in their hands, too, but he didn’t say a word to them. Only to Maria.”
By Jessica O'Dwyer
