the family we choose
 
While I’ve been at my job for a month now, The Pumpkin’s been at her in-home daycare for a bit less than that (though she’s not crying anymore, knock on wood for tomorrow).  Besides pre-planned trips and mom’s days off, the daycare was closed before and after Thanksgiving, and one day I had to pick her up early because the daycare provider didn’t like the look of her runny nose [she’s a bit strict on the hygiene tip, but hey, I understand].  Each time we’ve had to deal with one of these unplanned no-daycare-but-we-still-have-to-work days, our daycare provider likes to comment that she usually doesn’t take families that don’t have back-up, meaning relatives in town.
 
But these little challenges have just served to underscore that we do have family here.  Three-and-a-half years ago, we moved here not knowing anyone.  We were 2-to-3 hours away from our parents, and didn’t really know what that might mean when we finally did have a baby.  But somehow, something amazing happened.  We found a group of friends who pretty quickly became more than that.  They became family.  Though we are not related by blood or legal adoption, we are family by luck and by choice.  We depend on each other, and we want to be there for each other.  Sometimes, when we call on them as we would call on siblings for help, to watch our babygirl when an emergency’s reared its head, we may feel guilty that we are imposing on them—but never do we worry, for one second, whether our daughter will be happy and safe and loved.  We don’t have to.
 
Watching our kids play together, like at the bookstore’s nighttime pajama storytime last Friday [movie—by la dra.—viewable on the full entry page], la dra. likes to say that she can tell that these kids love each other like family.  I feel it too.  They have been bestest friends since birth, and we know that they will love our little family’s newest arrival, in just a few short months, as intensely as they love each other.
 
I’m an only child.  I don’t know what it’s like to have siblings, and contrary to what some of my closest friends may think about me, I don’t find it all that easy to make and keep friends.    All I know is, when we gather at one of our homes for a meal, even on short notice, it feels good, it feels right, it feels like home.  And when we go too long without seeing each other, without playing with each other’s children and feeding each other, it feels wrong.
 
I don’t know if any of us are really planning to stay here for the long haul, and it makes me sad to think that one day, our kids may only remember each other as their parents’ friends kids, whom they used to play with, a long time ago.  I don’t want that to happen.  But whatever does happen, we will have CD-ROMs full of pictures and videos of laughing children, growing and dancing and playing with each other, and we can say, Look, those are your brothers and your sisters, those are your aunties and your uncles.
 
Those are your family.
 
 
 
Sunday, December 3, 2006