Too big.

     In the past month or so,  I feel like Zeke has lost some of his innocence.  I know that I have shared before that when Zeke sees pictures of Blake as a baby, he has always said "There's me!"  So secure is he in his family, that his eyes see a baby and he knows that he is the baby in this family, so that baby must be him.  Disregard the fact that Blake is a toe-headed white boy and Zeke is Rwandan.  Love that!

    Last night, Zeke was describing something at school and he said, "She is white like you," using skin color as a descriptive in a story.  This is new.  Normal and expected, I know, but still a bittersweet change. What little change in his brain suddenly made him register this objective?  

     When Ryan and I jumped on the adoption boat, believe me that we had plenty of heart-to-hearts regarding trans-racial adoption.  We'd be fools and our social workers slackers if we hadn't.  Deciding to bring African children into a Caucasian family is a big deal and an issue that my thinking has changed a lot on since doing so.  I used to think that "love is blind."  We would love all of our kiddos the same and we would raise them focusing on the similarities; that we are all God's children: with two eyes ("Mama's the only one who doesn't have brown eyes in our famly!"), two elbows, one heart, one family.  This is true, don't get me wrong!  However, I noticed quite soon after coming home that if there was another dark skinned person in the same space as us, Etienne would find him.  Of course he notices the differences and of course he wants to feel included!  This is why I choose to drive to our fabulous black barber shop every couple of weeks rather than save the $10 and have daddy do it.  If we never acknowledge or embrace that our boys' hair is high maintenance, that their skin is darker or their features are different, than I believe that by not talking about it, we run the risk of implying that it doesn't matter, doesn't exist or is shameful.  Does that make sense?  Ultimately, as Molly, Blake, E and Zeke's mama, my goal is to lead them to the cross and that at the cross, they will find security in their Savior alone.  I will do whatever I need to do to get them there.

And now, back by popular demand, our bald headed boy!

Before 

After

     It happened.  Zeke decided for an early birthday celebration that he wanted his haircut.  All morning, he insisted he wanted to be bald.  I gave him a few hours and a few conversations, but he insisted.  He even  went and dug out his daddy's clippers.  One shave in and he was in tears.  "I changed my mind! Stop!"  Too late and what a lousy way to learn a lesson.  Today is now day 1 of "Growing My Twisty Curls Back."
   

Lots of tears here.