What with all this V. activity lately, Adinah--who may now also be referred to, regrettably or not, as "our first daughter"--has taken another morphtastic conceptual leap. She's started talking about, and drawing pictures of, her biological parents. Or as we refer to them, Deanie's first parents.
We were reading one of her favorite books the other night (Over the Moon by Karen Katz) and she pointed to the couple on the cover and said that that was a picture of her bio-parents. Then she brought home a picture she had drawn on a heart-shaped piece of paper at kindergarten. On one side it shows Anette and me and Adinah (as a tiny angel); on the other side is a picture of Adinah with her bio-folks. She confessed to Anette that she thought she didn't draw her first parents so good: "Schau (Look)! Their arms are coming out of their ears!"
Here's a front and back view of the picture.
I know I'm laying myself open for accusations of parental prejudice here, but holy shit, this seems like a phenomenal piece of poetry. Her Ethiopian family and us, together on paper, each the flip side of the same heart, all colors of the rainbow everywhere. The complexity and beauty of her story, and something almost untranslatable about international adoption in general, all said better than any book I've read or any sentence I've written.
This morning as I was on my way to work, Anette called to say that she's drawn another one since: a picture of a house with four doors, and standing in each one is Anette, myself, Adinah and...V.