What's in a name?

I wonder if Kofi will forgive me his name?

When he was first born, I wanted to call him my little Coffee Bean (a cute version of Kofi Benjamin) and "my little monkey," each of which was vetoed by my sensible friend Marsha. So, I've been left calling him Kofiman (with a slight Jamaican accent), and occasionally the Kofinator (thanks, David), but mostly, just Kofi, or Kofi Benjamin, or Kofi Benjamin Ralston (often sung and I would post the music here, but I'm waiting to copyright it).

SO:
Much to my dismay, I was in Walgreen's in Brookline two weeks ago and woman came up to me and said, "Your son is so cute" -- (we get that a lot) -- "What's his name?" And when I told her "Kofi" she said, "Oh, that means 'little monkey' in Hebrew, or more literally, 'my monkey'."  Well, needless to say I was struck with panic and immediately emailed Eve who confirmed what the meddlesome Brookline language maven told me. I then reconfirmed it when I ran into a neighborhood Israeli acquaintance of mine: Yes, it means "my monkey."

Well, it was supposed to be Ghanaian, not Hebrew. Born on Friday. Like Kofi Annan (DOB 4/8/38 -- yes, a Friday: don't you love the web?) Not that he's Ghanaian. He's American. Born in Houston. But I liked the name, and will stick by it and make him proud to be my (well, now our) little wonderful-joyful-playful-bursting-with-energy son.

For those who are still following this blog:

http://stevenandrobsadoption.blogspot.com

He's walking, he's talking, he's wearing my glasses. So far, so good. A fever to 104 a few weeks ago, but we all survived. The most recent major frustration is trying to get a birth certificate so we can take him out of the country (Montreal, for God's sake!) and between the Massachusetts Courts ("We sent the paperwork") and the MA Registry of Births ("We never received the paperwork") and the Texas Registry ("Kofi?? What an INTERESTING name! But no, you're not the legal father, we can't issue you a birth certificate... but I LOVE that name, I'm so bored with all the James and Davids we have to do." -- imagine it all in an annoying drawl), it has been a lesson in bureaucratic insanity.

Well, if we can't do Montreal, we'll go to Vermont to the Von Trapp Family Lodge. Does it get gayer than that?

Yes, technically, he's Jewish (Kofi, not the Santa). But, who could resist the first Santa photo op? As you can tell, it didn't go all that well.

And, yes, I've missed blogging about his first birthday which was great. We had a lovely party which doubled as a holiday party (meaning we could serve both cupcakes AND cocktails) (and, yes, I made the cupcakes from scratch, and the frosting too) (and will probably use a mix from now on, because, let's face it, do kids really care??).

So, a year ago, I barely had a child and now a year later, I have a whole family. Rob moved in a few months ago and it's as though he was here all along (at least, all along the Kofi adventure) and it seems as hard to imagine my life without him as it does imagining it without Kofi. We make a good team, relieving each other of the Kofi-burdens when they (rarely) occur, and sharing in the Kofi-joys (of which there are many). He is both patient and firm (good traits in a co-parent and a principal, which is his day job). But most of all, Kofi adores him and he's great with Kofi. And he's great with me too.

So, I know I keep threatening to end this blog... we'll see where it goes from here.

Happy Holidays, Happy New Year to all!

Adoption Day: October 29, 2009

Should I stop the blog?

The adoption is final. Actually, final and irrevocable according to Judge Armstrong. It feels great. Kofi had a mild diaper disaster (up most of his back, if you must know) just before we went into the courtroom, so he wasn't wearing the very cute outfit I had picked out for him when we finally went before the judge. She (the judge) was terrific, clearly happy to being partaking in a joyous occasion. Even let me sit in her chair with Kofi. [I told her that it was every doctor's fantasy to sit in the judge's chair; she laughed.]

But I'm ready for another. I called my social worker this afternoon to set up an appointment to start the process for Kofi's little brother/sister (or maybe older brother/sister??). I think I'd like another baby, as hard as that was. Rob being with me during this has been such a godsend. I'm not sure how I could have done it alone (what was I thinking???).

Anyway, thanks to EVERYONE who has been supporting me during this and helping me out in countless ways from last minute babysitting to generously supplying me with car seats and swings to throwing showers to countless books, outfits, CDs and stuffed animals to all the moral support of even attempting this to all the love extended to my little bundle of Houston-born joy. You know who you are.

And, again, thanks to Marsha and Josh who were there in Houston at the beginning, well before Kofi's insane growth spurt, before he could do anything other than sleep and eat, pee and poop, before I realized how quick and deep love for a child can grow, before his first fall, before his first tooth, his first fever, and the pain he had teething that made me think I would do anything to take the pain away and made me so grateful for baby Tylenol and Motrin and perhaps gave me an inkling of another reason (other than the obvious) that parents try to protect their kids: it's horrible to see them in pain.

And a special thanks to my family who have been supportive in countless ways.

I should be studying for an exam tomorrow... but I couldn't resist posting this. We're off to court tomorrow (Kofi, Rob, and I). Unfortunately, the little one is sick... fever and diarrhea... and teething too. We'll have to pump him full of Tylenol and Motrin and maybe a dab of Anbesol for good measure, but we're quite excited. Still haven't picked out an outfit (for either of us).

OK. Three gates down, one, maybe two to go. Let's just say, it's been educational. Each one is easier and looks better than the last; I would post pictures, but I'm a bit embarrassed by some of the results. My tool hand (the right one) has suffered minor injuries only (one blister, one abrasion, and one bruise) and my left hand had a splinter a few weeks ago. Which reminded me of the times my mother used to take splinters out with a straight pin that had been passed through a burning match to sterilized it. It made me wonder when Kofi would get his first splinter and the tools I would use to remove it (I'm envisioning supplies stolen from the hospital: a packaged sterile needle, an alcohol swab, and of course some topical anesthetic cream probably left over from a circumcision).

The adoption becomes final in 5 days. I'm so excited, much more than I thought I would be. I guess I feel that Kofi is already my son, that the legal event sealing him to me and me to him should not seem that important, but I guess it is. Anyway, I've taken most of the day off for the event and will celebrate in the evening with friends...