Having an adopted child means that we talk about adoption in our house a lot. And I really thought that each of my kids had a good, age appropriate understanding of what it means. But apparently I was a little wrong on that count. Because a few weeks ago Ezra came up to me asking:
“Mom, was I adopted from Queens?”
Now he knew that he was born in Queens but somehow that information got turned around in his little head. Until he started to believe that we adopted him from Queens. After trying my hardest not to laugh at his question we talked about it until he understood that he was just born at a hospital in Queens. But ever since that conversation he has been obsessed with going to back Queens to see where he is from.
Since we were in the city the other day we decided to drive through Queens so he could satisfy his need for finding his roots. He was really entranced watching Flushing from the car window. We even stopped outside of the hospital he was born in so he could take a picture.
In the end I don't think it was quite the experience he was expecting. He did mention that he wished Queens looked more like Manhattan. But it settled some questions for him. Sometime I marvel at how complex these little people really are.
Until next time.....