Picture, Picture

One of the things we're privileged to have is a set of pictures featuring William, his Taiwanese mother, and a few of their relatives. Considering that many international adoptees don't even know who their biological parents are, having these photos is like holding several lotto tickets worth millions each. It's a blessing to be able to note their resemblances and to have something concrete to show him one day if he ever wonders about his past.


I took what I considered to be the best picture of William and his Taiwanese mother and framed it. The image now sits atop a bookshelf in his bedroom next to a photo of William with some of his St. Lucy's Center roommates and caregivers. In the months shortly after he came home, I refrained from showing him The Picture. I knew he had just undergone a difficult time, living in an orphanage one day, then being whisked away by unfamiliar faces to a foreign country the next. Leaving his biological family must have been traumatic enough. I didn't want to cause him further pain by showing him his mother's photo and reminding him afresh of all that he had lost. 7 months-old as he was at the time, I don't doubt that he was capable of registering the hurt of separation deeply.

Several months later, I came to regret my decision. I realized that the longer William went without seeing images of his Taiwanese mother, the more likely he was to forget her face. Not wanting to perpetuate that forgetfulness, I put The Picture on his shelf where he could see it across the room from his crib. We sometimes pass by the photo and take the occasion to "speak" to her. "TaiwanMama, how are you? We're going to go change my diaper now." "TaiwanMama, what pretty hair you have."


Like most adoptive parents, I can be fiercely protective about my child's adoptive history. After all, that information belongs to William and is his to share when he's ready. He doesn't need people surprising him with details he didn't know or making unwanted pitying remarks towards him.

That same guardedness applies to sharing the pictures of his Taiwanese family with others. When I am thinking two steps ahead and anticipate having company who will for one reason or another wander through his bedroom, I make a point to hide The Picture. However, I don't always think ahead. It would not surprise me to learn that others have seen it in their travels upstairs.

Not too long ago, we had visitors. While I was downstairs feeding William a snack, they decided to tour our second floor. They were up there for much longer than they needed to see the girly-girl hand-me-down furniture in Andrew's bedroom, the mirror in the bathroom crying out for Windex, the cheap folding tray tables that serve as nightstands in our master bedroom (which, by the way, are an upgrade from the cardboard boxes we used a year ago). It occurred to me that at some point, they had probably looked long and hard at The Picture, sating their personal senses of curiosity about William's biological family. I don't half blame them; it's only natural to wonder. Plus, how could I reasonably expect them to understand the significance of what they saw?

Still, the very thought of it made me fume. I was tempted to leave William downstairs, nibbling away, while I sprinted upstairs to hide The Picture. However, I had visions of him choking on his grapes while out of my sight. I also didn't want to put on a freak show as I swiped The Picture off the shelf, fire blazing out of my eyes and smoke heaving full-force from my nostrils.

Instead, I remained downstairs and did a Chris Farley, mentally slapping myself for leaving The Picture out where it could be seen by curious eyes. William continued to snack away, oblivious to how I had failed him.

Am I being over-dramatic? Yes. And no. The future of any child, biological or adopted, is so full of unknowns. Who knows how William will one day react to the reality of his adoption. What will those pictures mean to him, if anything? How much, if at all, will he smart from his adoptive losses? Because none of us knows yet, the safe road seems the best road to take. When I signed the mountain of paperwork to become his other mother, I committed to protect and nurture my little boy in whatever way necessary. A little paranoia just may come with the job description.

Exactly

I don't know when it happens exactly, but at some point, parents lose the social right to speak of their children's ages in terms of months. You simply can't introduce your 2 years and 8 months-old child as as your "32 months-old." People would silently mock you, filing you away as the obsessive type. If you referred to your 8 years and 11 month-old child as your "107 months-old," you'd get a lot of puzzled looks as people tried to crunch the numbers in their heads. Parents are left with no recourse but to speak of their children's ages in vague terms: "Oh, Darling is almost 10." "Junior will be 2 in April."

That's why I love mid-January. On January 9th and 19th, I can say in no uncertain terms that my boys are 6 1/2 and 2 1/2 years-old respectively. If only for those two days, there are no vagueries, no approximations, no somewhats. For someone who is precision-averse, that exactness gives me an unusual sense of satisfaction. Of course, I also love January 9th and 19th because of certain family traditions involving donuts and ice cream. Witness below:




















Happy half-birthdays, boys. We love you so much and couldn't be prouder to be your parents.

Seasons

I'm sure you've noticed that my last few months of posts have been heavy on pictures and light on writing. If you're not a fan of long-winded ramblings on family, faith, race, and adoption, then you're probably breathing a sigh of relief. If, for whatever reason, you miss the good ol' days of texty posts, I'm sorry to say that the next three months might leave you wanting.

You've likely noticed that your own life undergoes seasons in which certain commitments and interests dominate, only to be displaced in time by other things. For me, photography has claimed much of my free time over the last several months, edging out writing. Remember that novel I was working on? I advanced a measly 8 pages in November and haven't touched the draft since. The book remains at 2/3rds completion at an awkward 332 pages. (Don't worry; I'm not planning on re-writing Ulysses; at least 1/3rd of the draft will wind up in the recycle bin.)

As someone who appreciates closure, having so many projects unfinished feels like living my life with a league of wasps constantly buzzing round my ear. I want to roll up whatever publication is nearest to my grasp (the Crate and Barrel catalogue is exempt) and whack at the little critters one by one until the ground is littered with their motionless bodies. (Okay, now the metaphor has grown uncomfortably cruel. The clicking sound you hear would be readers collapsing my blog and moving on to the next blog in their RSS feeds.) Still, I think you get the idea. I don't like unfinished business.

But I'm learning to live with it. I'm learning to accept that I can't always see things to completion when I want, especially hobbies that should take a back seat to my everyday duties. I have two kids and a husband and toilets that threaten to sprout legs and walk out on me if I don't scrub them on a routine basis. Equally, I'm coming to grips with the fact that I can't do everything well at the same time. No one appreciates a sub-par effort. I don't, and I know that God, who is glorified by excellence, certainly doesn't.

So, will the next couple of months of AoF be solely visual? Probably not. I'm tinkering with the idea of keeping this blog running and opening up a separate photo blog. At the same time, I can tell you that the next three months may be quiet ones as far as any blogging goes. I've recently joined the question writing team for my church's women's Bible study, a commitment that involves late night meetings, reading Biblical commentaries, and reviewing and writing thought-provoking questions for distribution. In a temporary fit of insanity, I've also agreed to prepare and deliver a thirty minute lecture in March on a mere 7 verses from the second epistle of Peter. Photography and writing will likely take a backseat until I've delivered that lecture.

But until I screw together my courage and unseal the manila envelope of Biblical commentaries I was handed, I'll leave you with some pictures taken a few days ago. They feature some friends of ours, a genuine and genuinely wonderful family of five, whom we met through church. They returned to the area last Saturday for a 6-day visit. We were blessed with the opportunity to host them for that time and are already looking forward to their next visit out this way.

Mother Superior. If I ever become half as good a mom and wife as Lise, then I can die in peace.

Quick Trick Block Stack. Boaz, Andrew's like-minded, Lego-loving friend.

Oh, Susanna! Sorry. I couldn't restrain myself from belting out in small-font song.

William and Mary. Dork that I am, I had to take a picture of the two kids together just so I could caption it as such.

Surprise!

Craig's parents flew back home to New Mexico yesterday. They stayed with us off and on over the last two weeks. During that time, we had the opportunity to celebrate his mother's 60th birthday on three occasions.

One of those occasions was a surprise party ably coordinated by Craig's younger sister, Kaity. The party was supposed to happen a week before, but the snowstorm that hit Philadelphia stranded his parents in Texas for two days, causing them to miss their own party. But never fear: the event was rescheduled and yours truly went shutterbug crazy throughout the afternoon. You didn't really expect me to sit by idly, did you? Come on. You know me better than that by now.

Post O' Plenty: The K. Family

It was death by chocolate this past week. White chocolate. Melted chocolate. Dark chocolate. I went into a baking frenzy preparing gift boxes for Andrew's different teachers. Big Bro. and I also baked up a truckload of decorated Christmas cookies for his class party. To top it off, I made a ton of white peppermint chocolate bark for a holiday cookie exchange (no, chocolate bark isn't cookies, but when the craving strikes, I bend the rules). I never want to see any more melted chocolate again. Well, not until tomorrow.


I've been working on an update letter for William's Taiwanese family and the staff at St. Lucy's Center in Tainan. Each time this year, our adoption agency collects letters and pictures to be sent to Taiwan. And as always, there's so much to say. Weeks after hitting "send," I always kick myself for forgetting to leave out an important detail about William's development, a funny anecdote, or a cute picture I took a few days too late. I know how much the brief orphanage reports we received about William meant to us. We clung to the sparse statistics about his height and weight and savored the brief insights into his personality ("he loves to interact with others, loves to smile"). If that is how I felt being his adoptive-mother-to-be of just a few months, I can't imagine what our 3-page update letter would mean to his Taiwanese family. I want so much to get everything right, to capture every detail for them. That's not too much to ask, is it?



It looks like we're in for a white Christmas tomorrow. We've still got several inches of snow left over from last Saturday's storm, which dumped a good fourteen inches on our town. Andrew had a blast playing in the winter wonderland. William, though eager to suit up and get outside, was wary of getting the white stuff on his mittens. We've noticed that he has an aversion towards getting his hands soiled, whether it be from dirt, food, or sand. Snow may be cleaner stuff, but he makes no exemption for it.



Oh, Costco tree, oh Costco tree! We set up our Christmas tree a few weeks ago. In past years, we've traveled to a local farm to harvest our own tree. However, since William was beset by bronchiolitis for a week (hello, nebulizer!) and because the weather was so cold and rainy, I sent Craig and Andrew out to Costco to buy a live tree. Ah, Costco.... what can you not find there? Now that I think about it, I should have taken advantage of their liberal return policy and brought the tree back. Though fairly jumbo sized, the one we purchased didn't come in triplicate and packaged in a plastic shell like everything else sold there.

Speaking of Christmas trimmings, we've really enjoyed opening our post office box every day to find so many wonderful Christmas cards from friends and family. The boys and I have gotten a kick out of hanging the cards around the door frames in our kitchen. Thanks to all of you who have blessed us with your holiday greetings, letters, and precious pictures.

I don't want to speak too soon, but we may just be on our way to something beautiful with William. Over the last few weeks, he has taken the initiative to use the potty a few times a day. We've been rewarding him with a chocolate chip every time he produces. This has sometimes led to his sitting down to squeeze out less than a 1/16th of a teaspoon of pee to get chocolate. Other times, his quest to satiate his sweet tooth yields nothing. Still, it's progress. (By the way, I'd show you the picture I took of his first pee in his little potty, but I suspect you'd rather view option B below.)

Craig took the whole week off of work this week. Earlier today, we went to the Adventure Aquarium in Camden, New Jersey. Animal lover that he is, I thought William would've gone nuts over the tanks teeming with aquatic life. However, apart from the swimming hippopotomus, the only thing that seemed to catch his fancy were the interactive displays with buttons. He was happy to smack away at them all morning. Andrew, on the other hand, had a fun time attempting to pet miniature rays, walking through a tunnel full of small sharks, and feasting his eyes on all manner of predatory creatures. (What is it about young boys and the concept of danger?)



After our trip to the aquarium, we drove into Philadelphia's Center City to visit my younger sister, Jenny. The boys enjoyed petting and feeding Auntie Jenny's lion-sized kitties and chowing on some tasty Chinese food.

Jenny wanted me to take a "Mommy/Daughter shot" of her and her cat, Emma. Given the affection she has for her felines, I don't think she'd be offended if I noted the resemblance between "mother" and "child." Looking at the pair, I see it's quite true what they say about pets looking like their owners. Or is the other way around?




"Meow!"

That's cat-speak for "Merry Christmas Eve" to you all. May your hearts be filled with joy as you celebrate Christ's birth.

Analyze This: The In-Laws

This past weekend's models are quite familiar to our family. Craig's sister, Christine, her husband Dave, and two children, Isaac and Allie, agreed to go in front of the lens for me on Saturday. I had planned to photograph them at their house in the morning when daylight was more plentiful, but my sudden sinus infection had other plans for me. So, we seized the day (or what was left of it in the waning afternoon) and set up studio in the spare bedroom of my house.

Look at those angelic faces! The melt-your-heart smiles! Those squeezable cheeks! (Sorry, Chris and Dave; I'm referring to your kids, though you are laudable in many other ways.) Isaac had the sort of patience uncharacteristic of most 3 year-olds, and little Allie rocked the Santa hat like no other 7 month-old. Working with their family was like playing with silly putty; I could have told them to hang upside down from the chandelier and they would've, flashing 10,000 megawatt smiles the whole time.



With each family I've had the privilege of photographing, I've learned gobs and gobs. Here are some of my "a-ha!" post-shoot reflections:

- I need not be afraid of going for a wider shot when I have room to spare. I can always crop in the post-processing phase. I cannot, however, add extra room to a picture that wasn't there to begin with. I'm still kicking myself for not having done so on many of the close ups.

- On the other hand, a wide angle lens would be oh-so-nice. When there's no room for me to back up, such as in the shot where Dave is tossing Isaac up in the air, a lens allowing me a wider shot would be handy. Please, Santa Craig, make a very irresponsible move and gift me with a ridiculously priced 16-35 mm 2.8 lens. As girls go, I've been a fairly good one this year. Please? Pretty please?

- With each shoot I've done, I've sprouted a new pair of eyes that keep watch for sources of unwanted shadows on faces, distracting background objects, and wardrobe malfunctions on my models. However, I still need a bajillion pairs more. I look at some of the shots and rue the lamp peeking out awkwardly in the background, the crown molding jutting in at a critical corner of a shot, the tree branches rising from behind a subject's head like a massive pair of antlers.

- Slooooow down. Before each shoot, I have so many ideas of fun shots I'd like to do with my models. However, in the rush to meter perfectly, to take the shot before the kids lose focus, and to maximize the environment, I forget about most of those ideas. I'm sure that with more practice, I'll get it under control. One day, I may even be able to carry on a running conversation with my subjects at the same time.

- I'm figuring myself out, too. I'm learning that I'm not a literalist as far as pictures are concerned. Some photographers are content to keep the colors in their photos as close to real-life as possible, to do a minimal amount of touch-ups. However, I prefer a more interpretative approach. I love to saturate my colors and to render my images with an edgy, yet dreamy treatment. I'm finding the creativity of the post-processing phase to be just as fulfilling as the actual photography session. The Photoshop class I was enrolled to take was cancelled a few months ago, but I'm still making it a goal to learn the program since I know doing so will fling wide the doors of what I'm really able to do with my images.

So, there we have it. Thanks to all the families who agreed to sit still and say "cheese" for me over the last couple of weeks. You've advanced my ability by leaps and bounds and I thank you for it. By the way, for anyone else who's interested in being my newest muse, 2010 is just around the corner. My camera is locked and loaded and I'm prepared to shoot.

Testing, Testing: The B. Family

Vel-come back to my la-bo-ra-to-reeeee...

For last Saturday's experiment, I took one willing family, added one historic farmstead, threw in a bucketful of novice photographic ambition and - kaboom! I created a monster, I tell ya! Well, no, I didn't quite, but here's what did spring forth:

Our friends, Nate, Katie, and Baby James were so much fun to work with. They're social workers, so how could you not like them? I constantly marvel at how laid back they seem for parents of a new child. They make me look psychotic by comparison. He's a diehard Ramones fan with humongous tattoos, she's a soft-spoken vegetarian, and between the two of them and through the magic of an amazing God, they've produced a beautiful baby boy with the most hypnotic blue eyes.

Katie gave me one directive: she didn't want a traditional family portrait. I was more than happy to comply. In the end, there are no shots of anyone wearing matching polo shirts and jeans while posed on a beach with a yellow labrador sprinting off into the sunset. Okay, okay, there are a few shots of the three of them walking off into the approaching dusk. I couldn't help myself. But those two pictures aside, what hopefully remains are images of a young couple in love with one another and in love with their little boy. After all, that's what I saw that day. I'm just shooting it like it is.

Get Your Click On: The C. Family

I've been a very good girl lately. Notice I haven't uploaded any new pictures of my family over the last few weeks? (The one of William in the post below was shot a month ago.) Last Saturday, we even took the boys to The Crayola Factory to celebrate Andrew's good first report card scores. In an act of extraordinary self-control, I left my camera at home and denied myself a myriad of photographic possibilities (oh, the colors there!)

But that doesn't mean I haven't been getting my shutterbug fix elsewhere. I've had a couple of local families express an interest in serving as my new models while I try to learn my way around my camera. Below are pictures taken of one of those families, the Cs.

I couldn't have asked for a better family with whom to work. The Cs were a gracious and very photogenic bunch. Don't hate their mom, Daisy, who should be a hair model. N., their son, was born to live in front of a camera. I've never met a kid like him who could stand so patiently and smile so winningly on cue time and time again. E., their eldest daughter, was similarly forebearing and lovely, despite being chilled to the bone. Even K., their 2 year-old, managed to turn on the charm once she got over being wakened from her nap (you did better than I would've under those circumstances, sweetie).

Thanks, C. Family, for being such wonderful guinea people.

O, Happy Day!

Happy National Adoption Day!

William Szu-Chuan: adopted into our hearts and home on March 3, 2008.

I Told You So

Lest you were tempted to doubt that William is a genius, here's further proof:



Full-ride scholarship to Harvard, here we come.