I love talking adoption. Listening to stories from other people, sharing ours, and encouraging others to adopt. But sometimes I just want to have fun with Oliver at his gym class.
other mom "how old is she?"
me "(note so self, kola shirt is too girlie)
he is 23 months"
other mom "wow he is so small, I thought for sure he was younger than my 18 month old."
me..nothing
other mom "why is he so small?"
me "not sure, delay from being in an orphanage for most of his life, maybe his bio parents are small"
other mom "he is adopted?" "that's so nice of you"
me "yeah he is adopted"
end scene when Oliver finally decided that we could play elsewhere
Surly this is just the beginning, but I'd like Oliver's identity to not always be based on his adoption. He is a smart, strong, and happy boy that just happened taking a bit longer getting home. Obviously this conversation does not bother Oliver he was busy trying to take the giant 18 month old's pacifier, it might just be me that is overly sensitive.
Oliver was quite pleased that today's gymnastics practice involved hanging from a trapeze type bar. Most of the other kids like to play all around the gym doing various fun things like slides, jumping in the ball pit, playing basketball, or just general running. Oliver likes to follow the teachers to see what they are setting up. As soon a the trapeze bar was up he was there waiting in the arms up ready position. She lifts him and he hangs and swings with a big grin on his face. I have a matching grin, because I really am so proud of him and so happy that his makes him joyful. He proceeds to lift his feet above his head and place them on the bar as well. He is small, but he is really strong. I pry him off to give the other kids a turn and convince him that the other gymnastics station, balance beam, is just as fun as hanging...which it isn't. A couple minutes later all the others have had a turn and Oliver goes back to hang until it's time to put the bar away.
The "other mom" from the above conversation asks how I taught him to hang. He's Russian, I say, they come programmed to be gymnasts. No I don't say that. I say he likes to use the zip line at the park and the longer you hold on the longer the ride!
P.S. Oliver was wearing red sweatpants and a white and grey koala onsie (the koalas were hanging on to their trees, he wore it to inspire strong arms and good hanging) and was called a girl three times today. Apparently boys can only wear solids, stripes, and plaid. Last time he wore a tiger shirt and was also called a girl. I've got so much to learn... In my defense, these articles of clothing were purchased the boys section of Old Navy.
