Raising a Colombian in the USA

Daniel looked down at his plate, grabbed a fistful of arepa and stuffed it into his mouth; but getting him to consume other aspects of his Colombian culture are more challenging.

Gotcha Day is ten months behind us and a lot has changed. First and foremost, Daniel is a full blown toddler. He runs. He plays. He talks. His personality shines more brightly each day and the pace of his learning has increased ten fold.

As adoptive parents, it's important to us for Daniel to remain connected to his birth country Colombia. We didn't change his name. We speak Spanish at the house. We attended Novenas during Christmas. We cook arepas and arroz con pollo. We listen to Colombian music and translate English books into Spanish while reading to him before bed time.

We're not abnormal. Many parents of Internationally adopted children do the same type of things. Why? It's because a child's native country is a part of him or her and should be celebrated and encouraged rather than to pretend otherwise. When we've explained our desire for Daniel to speak Spanish, for example, we've had more than one person make comments as though we're in denial of the enevitble and I feel as though I have to defend or explain our rationale. Sometimes it's unspoken and other times it's said out right, "well, he needs to speak English too."

The opposite is true. We want him to be bilingual, but Daniel is exposed to English so much that he is already displaying a preference toward it and could lose Spanish completely if we weren't on constant vigil. Here's a great example of a frequent exchange he and I have.

"Up," he exclaims to me with his arms outstretched.

"No entiendo," I reply.

"Arriba," he says, and I pick him up.

So despite the fact Claudia is from Colombia, we have begun to realize how difficult it will be for us to raise a Colombian in the United States. We admit, on the other hand, that we are blessed to be able to speak with him in his native language at all since many parents of adopted children don't have that resource.

I'm not admitting defeat, only acknowledging the challenge. Our culture has some great aspects, but so does Colombia and we want Daniel to have the best of both worlds.

Looking Back And Forward at the Midway Point

Standing over Daniel's crib, it occured to me that he is only a couple of weeks from being 20 months old.

There isn't much particularly special about that milestone for most kids. It's the equivalent to turning 22 years old - nothing special.

That's not the case for Daniel however. At 20 months he will have spent exactly half of his life with his foster mother and half his life with us, and each day going forward his time in Colombia will become a smaller and smaller percentage of his total life. With his time in Colombia quickly fading into the distance of the past, we enevietably ask ourselves, "what will he remember from Colombia?"

"Do you think if his foster mother walked into the room that he would recognize her,"asked Claudia.

I pause and reply, "it is hard to say. He is shy with strangers but warms up quickly to them."

"Do you think he remembers Colombia," she asks.

"I don't think so. Not at this point," I reply. "But we will go back to visit every couple of years. You still have family and friends who we can visit and we will take him to see places that were part of the adoption process like where we picked up his Colombian passport."

We try to maintain his Colombian heritage in the house. We participated in a couple of Novenas during the days leading up to Christmas. We play Colombian nursury music and we speak Spanish at home. We do what we can.

But the reality is he will only have photos and video to remember his days living in Colombia. Looking forward, he will have so many more opportunities than he would have probably had in Colombia. That's what is so exciting about thinking of his future.

Standing over his crib, Claudia and I watch him pull the blanket over his face and say, "night night."

He is completely happy. As I watch him fade off to sleep, I can't help but smile at the thought of watching him grow up. There are so many things I want to do with him when he gets older that he can't do yet like going for a hike or camping. Of course, I don't lose sight of enjoying Daniel's 20th month and all the other months between now and our first camping trip.

Creating Margin with a Child

With all of life's daily activities and obligations pulling us, often times in different directions, it is hard to take time to slow down and relax.

Every day is go-time when Daniel wakes up until he goes to sleep. I often recall our interview with his nutritionist just before we met him. She described Daniel as active, and then as if to emphasize just how active, she made hand gestures as though a child were climbing up over her shoulder and around her neck. Yeah, that active.

During the fall, Thanksgiving and Christmas times, we were either traveling, committed to some sort of activity or had family in town. The next thing we knew, we were spit out into 2012 and nearly through with January before we caught our breathes.

Which brings me to the point of this blog post. We are going to try making a more conscious effort to create margin in our schedules to relax, slow down and enjoy not doing anything.

It's a Biblical principle. God rested after probably the most productive week in history. Christ began his ministry with 40 days alone in the desert and frequently pulled back from the crowds to pray either alone or with his closest disciples.

And so, we want to follow our Lord's example as best we can.

What are the benefits of creating margin? For one, it will permit us to rest; the value of which shouldn't be under estimated. Secondly, we'll be able to spend more focused time with Daniel at one of the most crucial times of his development. Instead of filling our schedules with fluff, we intend to be deliberate in our interactions with him.

God has blessed us beyond our imaginations with placing Daniel into our lives. He is our answered prayer and it seems incredibly short-sighted to let life's distractions prevent us from being intentional with how we raise our son. At least on the weekends, for starters, no more frivolous Facebook, work email, twitter, etc competing with play time with Daniel.

For example, on Friday I left work early to pick Daniel up from day care. We visited a park on the way home. The weather felt like spring time instead of the typical freezing January temperatures. We walked on the dirt path until we came to a small wooden bridge that crossed a babbling creek.

There Daniel plopped himself down on the bridge with his legs pointing straight ahead. He loved watching the water. I noticed a bunch of pebbles by the foot of the bridge and gave one to Daniel to see if he would throw it into the creek.

Surprisingly, he didn't know what to do; so I took a rock and tossed it into the creek. Splash! Daniel grinned. I gave him another rock and he mimics my motion. The only problem was he didn't release the rock. So I repeated the example. Again, he mimics me but holds on to the rock. The third time I lead his hand and flick the rock out of it and watch it sail through the air and land into the water. 

Yeah! At this point, he understands how to throw the rock into the water. I hand him rocks one-by-one and he throws them into the water. We repeat this for a few minutes before continuing down the trail. 

The fact I actually taught him how to throw a rock into the creek really struck me. That's a skill, if you want to call it that, he will use the rest of his life. In fact, he'll improve on it and one day be able to skip the rock across the water. 

We never would have gone to the park if we hadn't created the time to do so. I would have missed out on that moment for who knows how long. How many other awesome moments and life lessons are just waiting to be experienced and learned?

I don't know, but we're going to make the time to find out. I promise.