Maia ruminates about Kazakhstan, her mother, and us

We went to Ala Moana today. It was rainy.
"I'm bored," Maia had said to me this morning.
We had fun there. Kristina was busy shopping, and Maia played with me. She would bounce against me in line, as we waited to pay for my mother's Mother's Day gift, and laugh. She likes to have fun, and she's funny. "I'm funny, yah?" she asked me to confirm not too long ago.
She's been insecure about the adoption, and it comes out in different ways.
The other day, she talked about a stuffed animal she had had in Kazakhstan. This was on our way to school. Her mother had given it to her, she said. "My other mother."
Tonight, when Kristina was putting her to bed, she told her she had made two wishes at Ala Moana--that there wouldn't be anymore whining or quarreling, and that we would always be happy. There have been ragged moments lately--but the kind that are common, I think, for children who are transitioning to being big kids as she now is--and the wishes reflected those moments.
Before Kristina left, Maia wanted to know whether she had been there when Maia was born. She said she hadn't, that we had only met her later.
She wanted to know why her mother hadn't been able to take care of her.
That is the explanation Kristina has given her for why she was in the orphanage.
"I don't know," Kristina said.
"She's not my mother anymore," Maia mused. "You take care of me now."
Sunday, May 2, 2010
ps I wish I had done a better job of recording all of your thoughts. It's work. It has been consuming all of time.