When Push Comes to Shove

They’re not crazy about each other at the moment.  They’re kind of going their separate ways.  But I can predict, as sure as the sun will rise tomorrow morning, that when push comes to shove, one of my adopted Nicas will throw down for the other.  No questions.  No analysis. They are each other’s – ‘just call and I’ll be there.’

And thank God.

Thank God we were smart enough to know that the greatest protection we could give our kids was their own little coalition.  Each one has two other people who are in the same boat – adopted, from Nicaragua, raised as Jews in Milwaukee by a gentile mom and a Jewish dad.  The smallest minority on earth, maybe, but not one of them is alone.  Ever. 

This is a picture of the three of them taken about 6 months after Jhosy, our daughter, arrived.  You can already see her position in the hierarchy.  And you can see in their little happy faces — they had it going.  Our kids — they ended up in our laps for who knows what reason — they figured it out.   They are connected.

One thought on “When Push Comes to Shove

  1. My dad went to great lengths to try explaining that to my mom: sometimes my brother and I just had to work something out on our own. Sending us to our room wasn’t always the answer and talking with us wasn’t going to help. Unfortunately, she never chooses a battle; she tries to squash the entire war. I’m not a parent yet, but I have a feeling that you can’t do that when raising children.

    On a positive note, my brother and I have always gotten along just fine. Those were just childish squabbles.


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