Bowen, FPD

Have Sport, Will Travel. This Time.

FullPlateDad (FPD) and I have spent a parenting lifetime avoiding club sports, sometimes to the chagrin of our children. AJ, our 14-year-old son from Ghana, is very sad to never have participated in the highest level of soccer achievable. We put him on the mid-level, non-traveling team, on scholarship. When he asked why we wouldn’t apply for the scholarship for a higher level, we told him we didn’t personally agree with the culture of that particular club, it didn’t feel very diverse, and we weren’t going to spend our hard earned dollars traveling all over the Midwest for one child.

Ultimately, he understood. When we do participate in a sport, we try to get multiple kids involved in it. Everyone is on the swim team. Even if they choose not to compete, we have them get in the water for practices so they learn good habits when it comes to exercise. We choose sports where individual times are measured, but there is a team atmosphere. We tell the kids we don’t expect anything of them other than improvement in their own performance.

Ally runs cross country, as does Cam. Ally will never win anything. Sometimes, she is close to last one in from the course. Cam wins quite a bit. He narrowly missed making Varsity his Freshmen year. He did letter in both swimming and track. Ally won’t have a letter.

I am so proud of Ally. I am so proud of Cam. They are both working to their fullest potential.

Then Bowen entered our lives. He loves sports. He loves them the way Cam loves them, the way you love them when you have that innate drive to WIN, and I mean WIN with capital letters. He wants to get out there and blow away they competition.

His predicted adult height is 4 feet tall.

Bowen has Achondroplasia, the most common form of Dwarfism. His head and torso are average-sized, but his arms and legs are short, approximately half the size of other kids his age. As you might imagine, this makes truly competing in any sports very difficult. It makes winning anything nearly impossible.

Swimming is an excellent sport for Bo. It puts very little wear and tear on his joints. He gets to be part of a team, and he has individual times to help him measure his own performance. When he’s participating with average height kids, we make sure he understands that the only win or loss comes with a time drop on his own personal best. He understands and embraces that.

It took Bowen a very long time to even learn to swim. We put our other kids in the water as soon as they got to us, swam year round and most had mastered it within a year or by the time they were 5-years-old. That wasn’t the case for Bo, and largely, that wasn’t his fault. People are taught to swim by people who have been taught to teach average height children to swim. Bowen has to balance his short arms and legs against the weight of his head and torso. He had to learn how to accommodate for that. Accommodations like that can’t really be taught, it just takes time and getting comfortable in the water.

Two summers ago, it began to click. We put him on our summer team, and he made his big swim.

Last year he swam year round, on a summer swim team and over the winter with a club on a scholarship. Our winter club held a Paralympic swim clinic for athletes with disabilities and Bo got to meet a Paralympian.   He got to touch Paralympic gold and it was decided in his mind, that was his goal. So, this summer we took him to a local qualifying event. We had looked at the time standards and thought he stood a good chance of qualifying.

He did.

At the beginning of this week, Bo and FPD traveled to Fort Wayne, Indiana for Paralympic Junior Nationals. We traveled 5 hours to get him there. We wouldn’t do that for any other kid in our family. There wasn’t one word about why Bo got this and the others didn’t. There wasn’t one bit of whining.

Instead, we painted the windows on the car to make him feel so special, to let him know that this is what matters, doing your best on that level playing field. In our pajamas, in the wee hours of the morning, the driveway was filled with FullPlateKids waving to the retreating silhouette of a sedan containing one very excited 8-year-old.He brought home some major hardware. Two golds, two silvers, and a broken record. Yes, our Bo broke a record at U.S. Paralympic Junior Nationals in short course swimming.

We couldn’t be more proud of him as an athlete.

–FullPlateMom, who can’t wait to see where his next competition takes us.


Adoption, AJ, Ally, Bowen, Cate, FPD, Gigi, Isabel, Jax, Juliana, Tess

On Top Of The World–Day Two.

We rode the ‘funicular’ (it’s like a train) up the side of a mountain today.  It is a beautiful mountain, with a church at the top, called Monserrate.

The only rub was, half of Bogotá decided to ride with us.  Seriously, the line to go up the mountain was 1.5 hours long, EACH WAY.  It was like the world’s worst line at Disney World.

As we stood (and sometimes sat) in line, the kids doing beautifully, we met other families who were curious about ours.  We chatted, it was completely lovely.  The weather was beautiful too.  I can’t imagine asking for a better day.

The view at the top was absolutely beautiful.  The sky was beautifully clear and the metal rooftops of Bogotá shimmered in the sunlight below us.  We pushed our way through the crowds and I managed to get a picture of my whole family.  Well, whole for now.  We are still missing the person we came for.

At the top of the mountain, we all ate empañadas and drank soda from glass bottles.  Then slowly, we made our way back to the line.

On the way back down, when we got to the spot in line where we were stuck, couldn’t get out no matter what, Cate decided she had to pee.  For the next hour, I did dances and encouraged her to not pee down the side of me.

Poor little guy in front of us, started to look a little green as we stood there in the heat.  I thought he might have to pee too, that maybe all the pee talk was getting to him, even though it was in English, and he was the world’s most precious Spanish speaker.  But, then I saw him lean over and start to gag.  I dove to the side and shouted at the mom “Tú bébe va a vomitar!” But, too late.  I went into self-preservation mode and pushed all my kids out of the way, as the puke hit the floor with an epic splash.

We walked carefully around it, and smiled that, for once, it wasn’t us.  The crowd rallied for that mama and let her pass right through the rest of the line, onto the train, and down the mountain.  Cam thought maybe he could induce vomit to get us all to the front of the line, but we decided it wasn’t worth it.

After the mountain, we had our driver take us to Plaza Bolivar.  We walked past rows and rows of street vendors.

The plaza is beautiful.

After asking me every single hour for the entire day, Cate finally got her ice cream, and we made the day of some random ice cream man.

Cate gives Colombia a thumbs up.

–FullPlateMom, who can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings.

AJ, Ally, Bowen, Brady, Cate, Dessert, FPD, FPM, Gigi, Jax, Juliana, Tess

A Murder Mystery on NYE

2016 is about to roll out, and we’re anxiously waiting for 2017 to roll on in.  2016 hasn’t been the kindest of years.  We’re ready for it to end.  When we asked the kids how they wanted to kiss this year goodbye, they said they REALLY wanted to party.  This year Santa brought the kids a murder mystery game pack, so it seemed the perfect time to have a little family time with the kids while celebrating with some fancy fixins’.

When the package from Santa arrived on our fireplace it contained a game manual for me and envelopes for each of the kids.  I set the scene.  Each child was given an invitation to the Teen Idol Awards and the swanky Hollywood after party hosted by world famous photographer to the stars, Poppy Razzi (me), and her faithful and loyal assistant (Gigi).  For tonight only, each kid would get to play the part of one of their favorite celebrities.  They needed to prepare a costume and be ready to walk the golden carpet at precisely 5:30pm.  But, sadly, during the course of the evening, someone at the awards after party would meet their untimely demise, and we would all have to work together to solve the crime.

The tweens LOVED this.  They were SO excited.  Their excitement rubbed off on the littles, who had a BLAST choosing a costume.  Ally helped prepare a totally corny menu that had dishes with names like ‘Get a clue stuffed chicken’ and ‘Crime scene cake.’

Food gets the teens excited about almost anything, and really, they were good sports about the family fun.  They cheered their siblings on as we took pics of them walking the golden carpet, making their grand entrance at the awards.  This is Tess, entering the awards ceremony as Selena Gomez.  Sadly, tonight wasn’t her night to win the Teen Idol Award though.  Instead, Brady took home the Teen Idol Award, playing the part of Logan Lerman.

His story would come to a tragic ending though when he was strangled in the bathroom approximately one hour after this photo was taken.

He makes such a convincing murder victim that he made one of these once happy girls cry.  Whoops.  Sorry, Sofia.  We talked her through it by having him re-enter the game to help her solve the mystery as a friendly, and helpful, ghost.

This has to be my favorite pic of the night.  As Poppy Razzi, I roamed the room taking photos and helping the little kids who can’t read make sure they understood their clues well enough to give away the necessary info to help the other kids solve the mystery.  You see, I knew who the murderer was all along.

Joe played a helpful and friendly police officer, Officer Nelson.  Every time Tess got a clue, which inevitably contained some sort of criminal activity, she wanted to report it to Officer Nelson.  “Officer Nelson.  You can’t tell the others, but I’m being blackmailed.  Help me.”

This had Joe and I guffawing.  It didn’t take long for us to arrest a suspect.  Poor Ally, otherwise known as Taylor Swift, will be doing hard time.  Apparently she and Logan lived next door to one another, her dog peed on his yard regularly, and he was threatening her poor pooch.  So, she decided to take matters into her own hands.  Here she is being read her rights.

She is not resisting.  She simply can’t breathe, she was laughing too hard.

All and all, it was a GREAT way to end an otherwise pretty stinky year.

The kids were already begging to have Santa bring another mystery again next year.  That’s not the way Santa rolls though.  Every year there is a new adventure or experience to be had.

I can’t wait to see what 2017 brings.

–FullPlateMom, who doesn’t want anyone to think that this sort of family fun is a one time occurrence.  It’s not.  It happens pretty regularly around here.  One time, we threw a wedding for two stuffed dogs so that they no longer had to live in sin.  God, that feels like a lifetime ago, and yesterday, all at once.

Deafness, FPD, Gigi


There is a point in every single one of our adoptions that our children begin to emerge as people.  It’s an odd feeling during these few months at home, almost like a fog.  We operate in a constant state of haziness.  We’re strangers when our children arrive.  They don’t know us, we don’t know them, and lots of times, they don’t know themselves.

Gigi didn’t know herself.  I know she didn’t.  I often try to put myself in her place during those years she spent in an institution.  Locked inside herself, no way to communicate.  I think in English.  I have a constant internal monologue going.  Don’t we all?  “Oh, man, the laundry.  I forgot to change it over to the dryer.  The kids school supplies, I need to find time to buy them.  Tuesday? Yeah, I think that’s free.  Put it in the Google Calendar before you forget and they go to school with empty backpacks.  Everyone will assume their backpacks are empty because you’re too poor to buy the supplies.  How are you going to pay for those?  You owe Bowen tooth fairy money too.  Damn.”  Yes, my inner monologue comes with negativity and curse words.

Joe (aka FullPlateDad) once told me that he felt truly bilingual (he is an interpreter) when he began to think in the language he was attempting to master.  Joe’s inner monologue occurs in Spanish.  That made me wonder, in what language did Gigi think?  She had no language.  So, what did her inner monologue sound like?  What does it sound like now?

Gigi on the TrainI can almost see the wheels turning in her head.  We were riding the train at the zoo in this picture.  A few seconds later the train began to move and she looked up at me.  Her face registered pure excitement.  Then her hands began to fly.  “Train! It’s going!”

She was thrilled.

And she was able to tell me all about it.

The fog is lifting.  I am beginning to see her emerge.

And, she is beautiful.  

Someday, a very long time from now, when all this is done and I’m old and gray, I know I’m going to look back at these moments, the moments when the fog lifted, as some of the most amazing moments of my life.

I am so profoundly lucky to get to witness this.

–FullPlateMom, who can’t wait to see who she becomes when she’s finally truly done becoming exactly who she is.

Adoption, Advocacy, FPD

How Did You Talk Him Into It?

When I was at the retreat this weekend there was, of course, a lot of talk of husbands and kids.  I have a large number of them.  Not husbands, thank God, just children.  I got asked, again, how I managed to talk Joe into adopting that large number of children.  I have been asked it many, many times.  Not to stereotype anyone, but statistically, wives seem to be the driving forces behind the idea of adoption.  There are husbands who first lay out the idea, don’t get me wrong, but it’s wives who usually come to me and say “Help me talk my husband into this just ONE MORE TIME!”

While it is absolutely true that I have been the driving force behind each and every one of our adoptions, I didn’t have to talk Joe into it.  Mostly, because I can’t.  Please don’t think I didn’t try.  Tess’s adoption was a true lobbying effort.  We were supposed to be done.  I had PROMISED.  And, let’s be real, her medical needs scared Joe.  I tried everything short of signing paperwork for him.  I made sure he met other people who were parenting kids with congenital heart defects.  I read him research.  I even hung Tess’s tiny picture on our refrigerator.  JoeHe just smiles at me, tips his beer and says “Stop it, Becky.”

It never works.

The man does not budge.  I’ve had to accept that he isn’t going to do it just because I yell an enthusiastic “Let’s go!”  Joe has to get there at his own pace.  From the outside, our marriage looks like I run the show.  In some ways, he does look to me to do that.  In fact, it often causes a fight.  When there are this many kids, I need someone to take the reigns sometimes.  He does that, just sometimes not in the way I would have.  Then, because I’m a control freak, I yell at him for that too.  I am not easy to live with.  He has had to accommodate for that.

Marriage is a balancing act.  I learned that through my lobbying, and in many other smaller ways during the last twenty years.  If we were an automobile, then I am the gas and this man is the brakes.  The car can’t run without either one.  We balance each other out.  When he has absolutely said ‘no’ to something, I am mad.  I am hurt.  I tell him that.  Sometimes, I tell him loudly.  Sometimes, I even question if we want the same things in life.  Sometimes, I’ve even questioned his faith.

That’s not fair of me.  It’s not fair at all.

I’ve had to realize that if we added a child to our family because I lobbied hard, or the children lobbied hard, then that wouldn’t be good for anyone.  Not our current family, not the new child, and especially not our marriage.  In fact, it would be absolutely terrible for our marriage.

Realizing all of this has been a long time coming.  None of my lobbying was ever what made the difference.  In fact, it had the opposite effect.  It drove him away from the idea of ever adopting again.  Duh. No one likes pressure.  So, while I may tell him how I feel, I’ve given up on the hard lobby when it comes to anything in our relationship.  In other words, I’ve grown up.

When I wanted to adopt Gigi, and everyone knew that, I had to continually say “Joe isn’t where I am.”  During this time of not being in the same place, our lovely Social Worker, Jessica, came for a post-placement visit for Cate’s adoption.  These are the visits where she checks on everyone in our home, especially Cate, and sees if we need any support.  She can combine these visits though, and use them to start a new home study for another adoption.  When she came, Joe and I had been in deep discussions about Gigi, and whether or not we could give her everything she needed.  The visit was coming to a close and Jessica stood up from her chair at the dining room table, gathering her paperwork.  She looked at both of us expectantly and said “Is there anything else I can do for you?”  I looked up at Joe, silently pleading with him to please, please, please tell her he actually did want to bring Gigi home, to us.

“Nope. Thank you. We’re all set.”

He wasn’t there yet.  That moment was like a punch to the gut.  I had to accept the fact that maybe he would never get to where I was.  It had happened before.  He does have an excellent sense of what we can handle, and when.  As we approached Tess’s open heart surgery, I said nothing.  There was nothing more to say.  Yes, there were discussions about children who wait, there always are.  I see the files of 20-30 kids a month who wait, and wait, for families.  I can’t advocate without talking to someone about it.  My heart often aches.  It’s important to have a safe person to share with.  I shared.  He listened, just like he always does.  I don’t really know what changed.  You would have to ask him.  Shortly before Tess went into the hospital, he said, “I think we should do this. I think we can.”

It may take him awhile to get where I am, but when he does, he is all in.  Joe-2That’s so important.  Both of us have to be all in, all the time.

Week before last, he put his name on the official paperwork “accepting” Gigi into our family.  While the moment is documented here for her, the actual acceptance had come long before this.  Joe-1It came in the moments we began learning about Deaf culture.  It came in the moments we both started learning ASL.  It came in the moments when we accepted that we may spend even more time inside the Cardiac Intensive Care Unit that we’ve both come to love and loathe all at once.  It came in the moments when we said “Our daughter is technically deaf AND blind.”  It came a long time ago.

The children haven’t figured out that lobbying doesn’t work quite yet.  Recently, Bowen started talking about how he needs a “small brother.”  He means a brother with Dwarfism, like him.  In fact, he wants to name him “Baby Junior Bowen.”  Every time there is a boy with Dwarfism waiting he says “That boy be my Baby Junior Bowen?”  The kids usually jump on board.  “Yes! Yes! One more time! Let’s do it again.”

I stay out of it.  Joe knows what we can handle and when.  I just laugh as he has to say to them “Stop it, Kids.”

–FullPlateMom, who, if she’s being real, loves it that they never, ever stop.  Tiny advocates, every one.