My Overthinking

Philly Area mom, Life forever changed by adoption

Archives for June 2012

A Family Comic Con Top 10

1. Blame it on your kids. You can totally roll your eyes when you tell people you are heading to Comic Con and make a big deal about the things you do to make your kids happy. You are under no obligation to share that you think seeing the real superman, one of the heart throbs from old favorite 90210, the man behind Kung Fu panda’s Mr. Ping, and the nerdy kid from Sixteen Candles and The Breakfast Club would be a little bit cool.

2. Do not bring a stroller. Don’t even think about it. If you have one young enough not to be able to walk around all day (or one crazy enough to bolt and try to join the circus), strap that kid to you. Maybe you can get creative and make that child wearing part of some superhero get up. I tried (picture wristbands and a cape on the hip carrier). Mark said I looked ridiculous. I wore the wristbands for most of the day regardless. I’m so on the in.

3. Do bring a camera. And, prepare yourself to take pretty much the same picture of your children over and over again with different characters–most of whom are just normal people coming for the convention who love having their picture taken.

3. Ask before taking a picture. Minimize risk by trying to make sure that the person you are asking is actually wearing a costume.

4. Hang out near the bathrooms and exits. Seeing Captain America coming out of using the facilities or a villain texting can provide a good bit of amusement for children and adults alike.

5. Prepare yourself for a lot of “What’s that?” questions. Over and over and over again.

6. Prepare to feel old when those “what’s that?” questions are directed towards what you may consider pillars of your adolescent years.
7. Get ready to say no. No, you can’t have that light up hat that Mr. Ping is wearing. No, you can’t buy a $50 Batman belt. No, you can’t join the 501st and spend $5,000-$10,000 on a Star Wars costume.
8. Be on the lookout. You may need to stay away from some a lot of scantily clad women (who I did not photograph for obvious reasons) and some creepy things. This one actually caused some tears, understandably. Ick. I’ll go back to Superman, thank you very much. 

9. Be prepared to lose someone. Comic Con can be a long day. By the afternoon, we think a stormblaster got her.

10. Go home thankful. 

Comic Con 2012 in Philadelphia

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Searching

With Mark’s return from China has come a lot of questions from our oldest daughter.

Some questions that I can answer; and many I cannot. Questions about Lydia and her first family. Why questions, who are they questions, what do they look like, where do they live. Questions about the details of Lydia’s story.

“Do you think she’ll remember China and be able to tell us about it and her first family when she’s a little bit older?”

“No, honey, I don’t think so. She was too young to remember it.”

. . .

And, then she cried. She cried.

I’m not sure why it made her so sad except for the reasons it makes me sad too.

There is so much we just don’t know. I want to know, but I likely never will despite my efforts to learn more and find someone who knows something more.

I read an article today. A young college girl who was adopted from China as an infant is in China now searching for her foster family and her birth family–she’s now already found her foster family from 20 years ago. She’s gotten a lot of media attention there for her efforts. And lots of different reactions. Some support her searching and encourage her. Others like 鱼不离水 think otherwise: “I advise that you stop trying to find your birth parents. I believe that they don’t have nearly the compassion and broadmindedness of your adopted mother, or else why would they have abandoned you in the first place? Even if you find them, it will only bring them regret and humiliation. Why bother?”

Let me show you why.

Maybe she won’t want to know. Maybe. And, if she doesn’t, then I will not push it on her. My desire to know more will not eclipse her desire or lack of desire to know more. 
But, if she does, this Mama is laying the groundwork for her. It’s my job. 
Ashlyn started to say to me last night, “I want to know something about her r…, I mean Chinese parents,” stumbling over the word “real” no doubt. 
And, I do too. 
Then, she said, “I already know about her real parents. They’re named Mommy and Daddy.” 
Absolutely.

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