Oh baby

I think about adoption all the time. What right did I have to bring a baby into this world when there are so many already here that nobody wants. Can you imagine that? Babies that nobody cares for. Babies that nobody loves. Perfectly good babies.

It's probably unfair for me to voice an opinion on this, but I think having "one of your own" is overrated. That's easy for me to say since I already have Evangeline.

Despite my guilt for not adopting I know we'll have another one. Adam longs for a boy. A son to carry on his name, his bloodline.

I am impressed by her determination to procreate. I say a little prayer for her every time I think about her struggle to get pregnant.

Said the mother said.

I hate writing dialogue. Probably because I'm no good at it.

Said the mother said.

I caught my daughter pretending to read to herself the other day. She is 3, she can't really read. It was Madeline by Ludwig Bemelmans. Great choice. Anyhow I hear her making up the dialogue and then say, "Said the mother said". I guess she couldn't decide if it was "said the mother" or "the mother said" so she mashed them together.

Can I do that?

Sixth sense?

The wind blew gently and the door moved slightly. Evangeline looked up. "We're eating dinner, please go now", she said to the empty doorway. Adam and I exchanged glances, and continued with our dinner. Minutes passed. Evan looked up again,"I said, please go we're eating our dinner". "Evan, who are you talking to?", I asked her. "The little girl, "she replied. My eyes widened. I looked desperately to Adam. "What little girl Evangeline", he asked her. "The little girl that comes to play with me." I was terrified.

Fast forward three nights. "Daddy," Evan asked, "Why is that lady calling me?" "What lady?", he inquired. "The lady over there", Evan said as she pointed to nothing. "What does she say, " Adam asked. "She said not to listen to my mommy and daddy." Adam's face showed concern. "Don't listen to her honey", he told her. "Whatever you are, you stay away from my baby," my dad said out loud, "This is Jesus' house".

And the last straw. I was making dinner the other night at the neighbor's house. I ran out of garlic. "Evan, " I called, "Mommy has to to run home and get something. Let's go. We'll be really fast." She met me at the door and followed me back through the gate to our house skipping and prancing. She stopped abruptly fifteen feet or so from the front door. "I'm not going with you mommy", Evan said, her smile had vanished. "I'm not going with you, there is a man in my house". I picked her up and whisked her inside. I was trying to make dinner. I didn't have time for games. She was whimpering and her body was shaking. Chicken skin as I entered the house. I carried her through every room, showed her there was no one there. As soon as I put her down she ran from the house. I followed after her. I didn't ask her what was wrong. Maybe I didn't want to know. She didn't mention it again. We returned home hours later. Just as I was about to turn the knob on the door she said, "We can go home now mommy, the man is gone". Chicken skin all over again. I called Kalehua the next day.