We don't like our neighbors across the street though we are polite; waving when we pass, etcetera. But the way that they interact with their children (er, fail to interact) drives J and I up a wall. But what can you do?

Today, as posted previously, we were fixing up the front flower garden. (Though, it only has two rose bushes as of yet. With my previous Black Thumb history, we're starting slowly. I don't feel like killing one hundred dollars worth of flowers at a time. I'm thrifty.) I was inside feeding BigBrother who had just decided that nap time was, in fact, over. J was digging out the old mulch.

To tie in the fact that we don't like our neighbors, here we go.

The MeanLadyNeighbor was also outside with her kids as well as a few neighbor kids who were playing. One child was teasing another and said, "You got dirt on your white shirt!" To which the MeanLadyNeighbor replies, loudly and in the direction of our home, "I don't like the color white! Literally!"

Now, what the heck? Racism, of any damn kind, gets me ten different kinds of riled up. But, to be honest, this is my first outright experience with it. Even when Lincoln and I were together, no one audibly said anything about our interracial relationship. My Parents, bless them, didn't even have anything overtly negative to say because they had raised me to see past skin color. (Of course, they didn't like Lincoln because he was totally not the right person for me but it took me awhile, er, a bit too long… eh… to find that one out.) Anyway…

What if Munchkin was here with me, being parented by the two of us? Would MeanLadyNeighbor have still said something? Would we be more accepted because of her biracial status? Would we be less accepted because of her biracial status? Would they be mean to her? If so, I'd have to go to jail because I'd fight to the death for my daughter.

I just have a problem with racism. I don't understand it. It breaks my heart that it still exists, in great number. It hurts me that Munchkin will definitely, at some point in time, experience some form of racism. I just don't understand why people can't see past color.

I just don't understand.

I must write this post haste before it slips my mind… and also in a quick manner so that I can get my rear end outside and PLANT MY ROSES! You have no idea how truly exciting this is for me. Not only do I have my own house. Now I have my own rose garden. There are joys in my life.

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I met an online adoptive Mom friend of mine yesterday. She's hilarious to me. We'll call her Snarky Librarian because, well, she is, ya know. Her smile and laughter are contagious and you can see a glint of mischief in her eyes. J and I did not have BigBrother with us (he was spending the day with Grandma so we could catch a movie) but Snarky brought her son… Jr. Firefighter. (I love names.) A sight to behold. I wanted to sit and play with his hair all day long. But he was more interested in the tractor and construction books at the Barnes and Noble at which we met. We did have some Very Important Conversations about J being a firefighter and how he could come to visit and sit in the truck. Wide, wide eyes. His four year old exuberance was invigorating. And really, sheesh, minus a bit of impatience, he was beyond well-behaved. I mean, I know adults who are less patient and far less behaved.

Snarky gave us a gift for BigBrother (more learning balls! ones we didn't have!). Actually, Jr. Firefighter handed them to us when we first met … and he was still quite shy. Then he handed me a double frame that was folded over on itself.

Do you know how hard it is not to weep, loudly, in a Barnes and Noble entry way?

Snarky brought me a double frame. On one side is a current favorite picture of Mr. BigBrother, grinning with sheer six month old glee in the bathtub. The other side? My current favorite picture of me and Munchkin during our visit in January. She is leaning back against me, comfortable as can be, watching television, as I'm smiling at D's camera. The look in my eyes is … hard to explain. First of all, it's tired. BigBrother wasn't even two months old at that point so we were still not getting much sleep. But the joy is there. Having her in my arms. Having her so comfortable with me. Knowing that while I am not her Everyday Mom, I am forever her Firstmom and we have that bond. A bond unique to the two of us. I was moved. I fought my tears though. I mean, in public!? What about my mascara?!

I have been blessed to meet such awesome adoptive parents. First there was Afrindiemum who is one of the hippest Mommas I know. And now Snarky, who, thankfully, lives closer than Mrs. Afrindiemum. I'm hoping that we can have a barbeque here or there or just sit in the bookstore for hours on end. I mean, AH! She's a LIBRARIAN folks. RIGHT UP MY ALLEY! (I'd link you to my new friend Snarky but I'm not sure she's down with that; let me know if you are, hon.)
I love new friends. Okay! Husband says it's time to plant the roses! Everyone cheer! Pictures later? Mmmpictures.

(PS - Obviously, my med change is working. I just met a new friend, called someone on the phone yesterday and asked for help in Lowes. *blinks in disbelief* Yeah. Can we say WHOA!)