Nature or Nurture…that is the question (Dateline December 2006)

Those of us who have adopted children who look nothing like us know the questions you will be asked by total strangers, even before they open their mouths. Some people phrase it better so it doesn’t sound as intrusive as it really is (try asking a family that does look alike the same questions and see if they don’t start throwing stuff at you). You just get used to it, or you go nuts. I’m too busy to go nuts, so I just answer the question as honestly as I can and go about my business. But sometimes I’m a little surprised with what actually comes out of my mouth, despite my best intentions.

Like the time I had five of my kids at Sam’s Club (warehouse wholesaler,) all riding on a flatbed cart. Easier to keep track of the kids, easier to buy cat litter by the 100 lb weight, easier to get people to get out of my way. I had successfully cleared a path to the cashier (visualize Moses parting the Red Sea and you get the idea) and was almost out the door with my load in tow, when an elderly couple stopped and started staring at the kids. I could just feel the questions coming (know the feeling?) You can almost see their brain shifting into high gear, getting ready for the eternal question “Are they all yours?” (No, I stole them…shhhh…don’t tell anyone). And out comes the question “Where did you get ALL THOSE KIDS???! (Meaning – “We raised two and never thought we’d live through it, and you have HOW MANY?)

Despite my best intentions (and my refined breeding, of course) out popped the only answer I could think of “Over in the produce section…better hurry! They’re going fast!!) The kids just looked confused. Heck, the old couple looked confused. I think I was the only one enjoying the joke…but it got me thinking about the kids and their relation to me. Obviously I don’t have to worry about them having their dad’s green eyes, my Irish complexion and quick temper (I mean excruciating wit). I just have to worry about them doing well in school and cleaning up their mess.

But the older I get the more I see their birth parents in them. For the most part it’s a great thing, linking the past to the present, and so on. But I also see a lot of me in them. Actually I’m starting to see my other relatives in them as well, people they have never met.

For instance, my mother (still alive and kicking in Florida…hi mom!) used to sleep with about 50 books, magazine, knitting and what not all over her bed. You couldn’t move anything off the bed, because she would immediately wake up and said something like “Put it back! I’m reading that!” Well, my daughter Annelise (age 9, from China) does the same thing. Don’t touch her stuff…she is reading that! I don’t care that she can’t find it under all the blankets on her bed (the ones she never folds), or that it has a months worth of dust on it under the bed…she knows where everything is despite never having picked it up in the last year.

Then there’s my daughter Alexandra (age 7, also from China). She has stubbornness down to a science. Much like my younger sister Cathy (living in Virginia, say hello Cathy!) Alexandra can turn from sweet little 7 year old to a stubborn mule in 2 seconds flat. It’s the most amazing thing. She juts her chin, squints her eyes and digs in her heels…just like Cathy did when she was growing up.

My son Tanner (also age 7, from Taiwan) reminds me of my sister Carol (living with aforementioned mother in Florida.) Whip smart, fast thinker and sometimes-slow learner about social mores. The highlight of his 1st grade year at school was the number of referrals (guess who blew it again for bad behavior) we received from the principal. I swear he set the local school district record for the number of dumb things he kept getting caught doing. By May I was halfway considering teaching him how not to get caught so I could spend some time at work in the afternoon, and not in the principals office. This year we have made it through almost four months of school with only one “referral” slip coming home for bad behavior. A big sigh of relief when we finally had him diagnosed as ADHD (emphasis on the H part) and got his meds straight. I had a friend once whose favorite phrase was “Without Chemicals Live Would be Impossible). At the time he was refereeing to illegal drugs (shhhh…don’t tell the kids), but it seems to be true.

As for the other four kids (yep, still holding at seven) I think they must take after my husband’s side of the family. Haven’t met most of them either, but I have my suspicions that somewhere in heaven there is gallery of dead relatives thinking up strange and wonderful things to share with my children.

As aggravating as it can be sometimes to see my kids do some of the dumb things I and my siblings got away with 25 years ago, it’s almost funny to watch. They may be adopted but yes, they are all mine. Funny quirks and all.

That’s it. Merry Christmas from Buckley.
Where we are still waiting for the rain to stop and the snow to fall.