Maia makes me laugh

I decided to make good on a promise and take Maia to Kakaako Beach Park today. We had been there about a month ago, she had seen kids playing in a man-made lagoon bounded on three sides by huge lava rocks and had wanted to join in.

Before we went, I rounded up some things at Safeway for our lunch, including Doritos, which Maia loves. This was to make good on another promise. Recently, Kristina had bought Maia a big bag of Doritos and had apportioned these to little baggies for Maia's snacks at school, but the Doritos had promptly gotten soggy in our humid air. Kristina, ever thrifty, had baked them to take out the moisture, and Maia had dutifully taken them to school. But she had asked if I could get her some new ones.

At Kakaako Beach Park, Maia honed in on the Doritos.

"Try these, Mommy, they're crunchy!"

"Well, the ones you take to school are crunchy."

"But they're not supposed to be all burned up!"

Something about the way she said that got me laughing, and I couldn't stop. They had come out of the oven with some dark accents.

"Stop laughing!" she said. Kristina was laughing, too.

"When Daddy laughs, his nostrils go like this," she said, making them flare in and out.

"Well, at least you don't have to share your snacks," I said. "'Oooo, Maia's got those burned up Doritos again!'"

"Stop laughing! Not funny!"

John, Saturday, April 26, 2008

"I didn't know a lot of people"

I was working last night, and so Kristina went to sleep with Maia.

While they were lying in bed, Maia began to ask Kristina about people she had known when she was one year old (we adopted her at two).

"Did I know Wakaia?"--a preschool classmate. "Gosha?"--a kindergardten classmate. "Mrs. Gomes?"--her kindergarten teacher. And so on.

Finally, "Did I know Daddy?"

"No, Maia," Kristina says she told her. "You didn't know anyone here. You were in Kazakhstan then, and you didn't come here until you were two."

"I didn't know a lot of people," she said.

I'm glad we started her thinking about these things. She's been up and down it many different ways. I think all of that will help her.

John, Friday, April 25, 2008

Maia asks a question

A couple of days ago, Maia asked, "Did you have a Mommy and a Daddy?"

I think there was a parenthetical there--"(real)".

I said, "Yes," and I showed her a photo of my mother (who she knows) and also one of my father, who died many years ago.

The conversation nosed off into questions about who else was in the photo with my father.

Not too many days ago, she said she wanted a brother or a sister. "Our own," she said. Meaning--at least, I took it to mean--not adopted.

Our age troubles her a little, too. Children have been telling her that we are old, and she can see it herself. Kristina asked her if it made her feel bad that we are old, and she said, "Yes. Sometimes."

John, Thursday, April 24, 2008

A question about doggies

This was at dinner on Sunday night. I had spent the day doing yardwork, but then Maia had wanted to go to the pet store. She likes to go and visit with the puppies, hamsters and dwarf rabbits. They put them out in little petting structures with walls not so high that children can't reach in. Clever.

Her question came out of the blue while we were eating.

"Where do the doggies go at night when the store closes? Does someone take them home?"

Kristina and I were both impressed with her curiosity.

"Maia, that's a great question. They probably stay in the store in cages."

"We can ask the next time we go," Kristina said.

I've missed writing in here. Stupid and unimportant things, like fighting with my former partner, have kept me away.

John, Monday, April 21, 2008

We watch Land Before Time II

She had found the video of Land Before Time II it at the Goodwill Store. We were killing a little time before the restaurant opened--Auntie Pasto's.

We watched it last night. The kid dinosaurs get in trouble in the movie by not listening to their parents.

"See," I said. "They didn't listen and look what happened."

"Just watch," she said.

John, Monday, April 14, 2008

"I was in somebody else's stomach?"

We were at the Mission House. It was Family Day.
The Mission House is across from what became Iolani Palace and was the first house in Hawaii to have windows and doors.
We were eating shave ice and watching a mother walk down a path with a baby in her carrier. The baby was facing out from the mother's chest and was very cute.
"Yes," Kristina said, responding to you.
"Where were you?"
"I was here," Kristina said. "Let's see--July 15th, 2002--I was working."
Kristina thought more about it but nothing couldn't capture any more detail.
You got distracted, then, by the fire truck, that was giving people rides. You wanted one.
You say things like that every once in a while that let us know that you're thinking about things, and what it means to be adopted.
I wondered not too much later in the day if we shouldn't put you in an all girls' school. There are boy issues in your kindergarten class. And I remember my brother, Mark, saying once that he wished that they had put their girls in an all girls school.
But Mommy didn't think that was a good idea.
She's right. You should grapple with all of this with a full deck of the situations and relationships you will need to learn to deal with.
You continue to surprise me with how much you are learning.
Earlier in the day, on the way to Mission House, you told me that you knew how to spell, "juice." You were cheating, I think, because you were reading it from the juice box you were drinking from. And I told you so.
"But you read, 'juice,' and you knew what you were reading," I said.
And then we spelled "ice," "mice," and "nice." And then I asked you to spell, "twice."
And you did it.
John, Saturday, April 12, 2008