Phenomenal Woman

A beautiful angel earned its wings today.

Maya Angelou had a magnificent impact on my adolescence, education and attitude. She gave me the greatest gift you could ever give a young woman-- insight. To someone who is in love with words and feels the weight and depth of what they mean and how you say them, I was captured by how she organized hers onto paper. How she seemed to so easily and perfectly explain to me how I was feeling. Her art was like therapy for me. I used to read some of her stuff and feel validated afterwards. As if she had just given me the courage to love who I am. It is as if she raised me from a girl to a woman.

Her earthly accomplishments don't even begin to compare to her unending spiritual initiatives. Words live forever. And they can pioneer equality, tolerance, peace.

Rest in Paradise.

You were a Woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal Woman, that's you.

Observing the Orphan Boy

I was watching you, you know,
when you were sitting. Obinere.

Sitting in the corner.

Sitting in the dirt.

Sitting on the front step watching flies fly by.

Sitting on the floor you slept and swept.

On a handful of black rags that was called Your Mattress.

I was listening when you were singing.

I promise not to tell. 

That you sing yourself lullabies in grunts and growls.

That ever so quietly you buzz

to hear something.

To hear yourself maybe?

Or maybe to prove that

you exist where you are sitting. Yamawe.

The whale song of a small invisible boy

with an invincible soul

that is so unsure of its invincibility.

I was crying for you when I saw your skin.

Marked and scared with Disappointment, Burden, Accident, Grief.

The coarse roads across your back that paid the debt of your rent as Orphan Boy.

Lost Boy. Pest. Scavenger.

Blistered and peeling from sleeping beneath the Equator's Wrath. 

Whithering away where you fell in boiling water. Where you burned with bleach. 

Twisting and racing in spider webs across your chest,  

being sure to steer clear of your never touched heart.

Pink and raw  where you were once creamy and oh so chocolate.

Scabies and ringworm and lice and fleas tell you

I Am A Street Boy
and selfishly find their home inside your skin.

As they say where you are from, It Has Remained.

I was celebrating when you found the scraps of mango.

A candied delight on a surprise Wednesday night.

Forgotten and left behind by Eating Men who no longer taste mangoes but have left there for you leathery skins to suck on for hours.
The skeleton of the meat you wished to eat.

A glimpse of something Sweet.

I was dancing for you when the others were dancing.

When you sat and you sat and you sat.

When you sat where you exist.

In the back. Behind the kitchen. In the dark.

It is the burden of the Orphan Boy; that sitting.

Wasting and watching and wishing the days away.

Melting in the lazy heat of days that bring nothing.

Why should you dance?

Would your muscles be stronger if they had things to do?
Your bones would be taller if someone spoke to you?

Only by miracle, your body grows.

Another year older and wiser.

in survival.

I am loving you now from Here.

In this Plastic, Gluten-Free, Buy One Get One Free, MTV, Do You Have Two Cars or Do You Have Three? country.

Where we print and sell your pain on ORGANIC 100% Cotton All-the-proceeds-of-this-purchase-save-a-life-in-Africa T-shirts.

V Necks with the silhouette of an entire continent stamped to our chests.
Our badge of servitude to The Least Of These. The Lost Continent.
As if you are not from that small Pearl of a country that rhythms your veins and bleeds Bakiga.

Because in our country, you are from Africa. As we understand it:
That Wave Your Flag, Waka-Waka Ay-Ay, Hakuna Matata, The Lion Sleeps Tonight, with no worries, Rastafari, let's go see the elephants, Garden of Eden where little dark children have names with too many vowels, stretched earlobes and protruding stomachs filled with worms.
Where little boys and little girls sleep on the street and dream of AK-47s and we say

That is life over there.

Here you are African Orphan Boy as the American sees you.
Not Mutungi. Not Moses. Not Manzee. Not Clever.
Here where we buy bracelets and stainless steel water bottles and trendy canvas-wrapped shoes with Your Continent as our logo and bumper sticker. 
So we can buy without The Guilt.
We buy tote bags and stuff them with food (we pay extra so it is organic)
That we are sure to waste.
The Civilized Ones.

I am loving you still even though I am embarrassed to tell you that  

I was born here.
In this Botox Twittering Empire.
Where we starve to be beautiful and put clothes on our dogs.
Where our government passes out food to people that do not want to work.
And it is destroying me.

Me? Destroying me?

And I sit and I sit on it.

Never knowing what to do.

I visit and I visit and I visit you.

I feed and hug and wipe and bathe and kiss and dance and twirl and jump and sing and laugh and cry and hold you.
And then I leave.
And that's never going to been enough to show you that I love you.
Orphan Boy.

Nimbakunda Munonga. Omugiisha.

Mother's Day

Scientifically speaking, moms are just remarkable. Somehow, her DNA was spontaneously and magically designed in this universe, just how it is. Just for you. And it will never, ever again be replicated. She is the only woman who exists the way that she does. And by a series of unexplainable experiences and circumstances throughout her life, she then created you. And no matter how extremely different you may be, how vary unique your existence is as well, in every practical way, you are half of her. And your sequence of DNA is purely magical to her. She watched her body design and create you. And now you are a physical being which stretches and grows her experience here on Earth. Your mother is the anchor which holds you to the ground. She is your point of reference in a spinning chaotic world.

And we must remember that mothers are human. That they have their own lives they are living. And that they have sacrificed a sufficient amount of years, a major chunk of their existence, to ensure that we do. We think of our mothers as superhuman, because they are so fast to protect and save us. Now that I am an adult who has parented,  I suddenly see--- my mother is human. And now the life she has created for me seems infinitely sweeter. 

If there is a single thing I have learned from my work in Uganda, teaching in public school, working in crisis intervention at a homeless shelter, fostering children removed from their homes, nannying young children in perfectly healthy situations----there is one thing I can say with absolute confidence, that I vow is unequivocally true and absolute---children crave their mothers. It is evolutionary and natural and magical. Somehow, as a living and surviving species here on Earth, we innately understand that we need our mothers in a way that food and water doesn't do it.

I am loving and grateful for the speck in this universe my mother and I subsist. In this giant, scary, confusing world, I always have a 10-digit number that leads me to the secure haven only mothers provide. That sequence of numbers, my mother's cell phone, feels as warm to me as a lullaby. I cannot wait until I have a child to love the way that she does. Hopefully my daughter is slightly less stubborn, selfish and spoiled then I was.

Love you mom. Everything I have accomplished this year would be impossible without you. I hope you understand that what was done in Uganda was done through you. 

Love always from your living monuments,

Tiff, Taylor, Michael, Gilbert, Bibianah, Kevin, Easter, Rehanna, Ollie, Chase, Ricky, Carson and the future grandchild your daughter is already secretly planning to adopt from Uganda in the next year or so. Seriously tho.

We couldn't possibly be here without you.

Another Goodbye

So my two weeks with Ollie have come and gone. They flew by very fast. It feels as if we hardly saw each other. The time we spent together early in the morning was usually with my falling asleep in a bowl of Fruit Loops. And the time we had together in the evening usually involved Ollie falling asleep in spaghetti. We were busy to say the least.

We did have a lot of fun on the weekends. We went downtown, the beach, the zoo, to play places, Target and the park (A LOT). We had a picnic and scootered and watched Dora too much. I am so proud of her. She is so little and young. And yet so brave. Not a single tear was shed during her "vacation" at my house until it was time to say goodbye to Cash Money. That was ruff.

And now, I've found myself childless again. "Single" again, as I've begun to call it.

I never know what to do with myself once they leave. Usually, I spend a whole weekend deep cleaning the apartment. You'd be amazed the different crevices kids can spread peanut butter and hide Barbie shoes. 

People are reminding me that now I can finally have some "me" time. I was soooooo looking forward to it----and now I have no idea what to do. I painted horizontal stripes in the living room. I reorganized kitchen cabinets. I threw away IKEA crap. I bought a Swiffer and changed light bulbs and got an oil change. I'm about to break out the sewing machine if something exciting doesn't happen soon.

I think the universe is trying to scream at me that I am just happier when I am being mom.

Round 2

Call me crazy, I've done it again.

Let's call her Ollie to protect her privacy. She is three years old going on sixty-three. She's dainty and polite and delicate and sips (lactose free) milk with her pinky up. She is an old lady.

Ollie's situation is much, much different than Ree's and she will only be with me for a short time. I definitely did not see myself fostering again so soon, but because I cannot say no, I continue being blessed.

Everywhere we've gone so far strangers stop to remind me how beautiful she is. She always responds, "yessss I am," heavy on the lisp. We got a princess scooter at a garage sale this morning and she firmly refuses to ever take it off. Can you put a toddler to sleep in a helmet?

So far she has been a gem. BUT. There is a huge difference between Ollie's 3 and Ree's 4. HUGE. 

Human beings are simply miraculous; that our brains can change so drastically in just several months baffles me. Ollie walks like a drunken sailor, and just a year her senior Ree was doing the splits, cartwheels and break dancing. And I went from arguing with Ree over "international spy kid stuff" to convincing Ollie to "eat eat her nana's cause they're yum yum in our tum tum." How significant the first years of life are for our babies' development!

So yea, 3 is much different than 4. I'm exhausted. Word on the street is the Terrible 3's are even worse than the Terrible 2's. We shall see.

Cash Money was terrified of Ollie, maybe because she's so small and wild, or possibly because she's not Ree and he's confused. Oh how he has missed her! Whenever her bedroom door is closed he wants me to open it, only to find an empty bed. 

Ollie's ear-shattering screams and unpredictable movements just plain freak him out. He spends most of the day with his nose in the couch cushions. The saving grace? Ollie drops more Goldfish.

Enjoy your weekend!

Dear Ree,

I wanted to send a letter home with you inside of your photo album because there is one very, very, very important thing that I forgot to tell you one last time: 

You are exquisite. 

Remember when you used to dress up in my high heels and try on makeup and wear goofy hats and dance in front of the mirror? Auntie Taylor taught you how to say, "My dear, you are exquisite." It is one of my favorite memories. You felt so special when we played dress up and danced in silly outfits. 

Exquisite means that you are SO special. It means that you are rare, that there will never be another Ree, ever. Exquisite means that you are super beautiful and fantastic, the very best and the most memorable. That is YOU! Your beauty, your charm, your excellence. You are honest and sweet and kind and talented. My dear, you are exquisite.

I know that things are getting confusing in your life right now. A lot of grown ups seem to be making decisions that sometimes might feel a little bit scary for you. Like when you came to stay at my house for three months. That decision was a fun one!

While you were with me we fixed 14 cavities in that tiny mouth of yours :) We continued going to talk to Ms. Cindy AND you started school! We also did SO MANY amazing things together. We painted pottery, went to a Bulls game, went swimming and to a water park. We ate sushi A LOT and we had play dates with friends and you took hip hop classes and drumming classes. We bought a goldfish, took Cash Money to the park, celebrated birthdays and St. Patrick's Day. You learned how to sleep in your own bed, dress yourself, and brush your teeth more than six times a day! You absolutely loved brushing your teeth :) We went to Target twice a week just for fun...because this mama loves her some Target. We saw Frozen in theater TWICE and went to jumpy house places to release your crazy energy. We went to the Children's Museum, Little Beans Cafe and even the Circus! In fact, when you got your face painted at the Circus you told Auntie Taylor, "I am exquisite."

I hope that you had a really fun time with me. You are my best friend and I hope I was able to show you that you are very loved. Life might get a little bit "weird" (as you would say) the next couple of months. I want you to remember that when you are mad or scared or hurt, that I am thinking about you and that someone deeply worries and cares for you. You are precious and you are special. I did not want for you to leave my house, but some very important adults, like a judge and case workers, make that decision for us. I had to do what they say because it is the law. They are making choices for you that they believe are the best ones to keep you safe. Remember that when you feel mad or sad about what is happening, that we want to protect you because you are so special. Our hope is to always keep you safe and healthy, and we try our very hardest to make you happy too.

Cash Money, my dog, is still "sleeping with his nose in your door," as you would often say. He misses you! You were very sweet to Cash Money. You let him outside the backdoor, you always pet him on the couch, and you gave him so many cookies! He followed you all over the house hoping you would drop your Goldfishies :) I can see that you are very sweet and kind, and you are an excellent big sister. I am so proud of you. I hope K and J learn how to be like their big sister! 

I love you very much. I miss you very much. And I hope that you can use my phone number to call me sometimes. I am going to miss your big loud happy voice!


Love you!

Tiffanie 
xxx-xxx-xxxx

P.S. I also wanted to remind you of something that you often tell me: "God is always inside of you." And He loves you!

When it is "Goodbye" and not "See You Later"

To the incredibly lucky person who now has Ree:

You have been given an absolute treasure. Ree is absolutely miraculous. She is one of the most beautiful, sweet, smart and kind little girls I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. She dances everywhere she goes. The last three months flew by way too quickly. I immediately felt the emptiness she left behind once she was gone. She was such a loud presence in my life.

Please, revel in and cherish the moments Ree gives you. She literally grows when she is being loved. Take the time to listen closely to what she is telling you. Sometimes her behavior speaks louder than her words. Sometimes she means the opposite of what she is trying to say--when she is angry she might be feeling sad. You might even catch her crying because she caught herself feeling happy. Be observant, be patient, be sensitive, and please, be gentle. Try to see the world the way that she sees it; it is such a pretty and simple place.

Ree is truly a priceless gift, and now she is in your care. She deserves the very best and more. She loves unconditionally, purely and honestly. Please, remember that when Ree is purposefully challenging you, she is only trying to discover if she can trust you. Praising Ree will help her blossom, and it is much more effective than punishing negative behaviors. Instead, make it point to tell her every day, "I am proud of you because...." She is brilliant and she learns immediately. She will follow safe and consistent role models.

Now that Ree is in your care, you have witnessed that smile. That ear to ear smile. Please, protect it and don't allow life to dim her sparkle. She is remarkable and you are the luckiest person in the world to have her.

If you ever need anything, and nothing is too petty or too large, please feel free to contact me at xxx-xxx-xxxx. I am proud of you for taking on such an enormous responsibility. I understand how much your life just changed. I love you and Ree loves you for it. You will have plenty of moments when you struggle. I promise you that when you do, Ree will promptly do something amazing to cheer you up. Focus on those moments.

Kiss her. Hug her. Celebrate her.

God Bless You Greatly,

Tiffanie