Rosie wants me to adopt her.

The other day Lucero and Rosie were sitting at the table eating tacos with two of their friends who live in our building, who I shall call Hope and Mila. Hope is adopted, and her family is very open about it. Mila is not adopted, and I don't know how familiar she is with the concept. I was standing by the stove heating up tortillas, and I got to listen to their conversation. 

The four girls were laughing and talking, when Hope brought up the fact that she is adopted.  Lucero tells her that she, too, is adopted. From the stove, I chirp in with, "Yep, by me!" Next, Mila, who is just 6, says in the not-very-nice sing-song voice that little girls have been using since time immemorial, "I'm not a-do-opted! Hoo-ray for me-ee," ending with a final cheer, "Woohoo! Not adopted!"  So I butt in with, "Adoption is awesome! When I adopted Lucero we got a stuffed animal, and Lucero got to sit in the judge's chair and hold the gavel!" Lucero says, "Yeah!" Then she adds, "It's not our fault, she's still my mommy!" I overlap with, "Yep, it was one of the greatest days of my life." Then Mila says, "I'm glad I'm not adopted because I love my mommy." I then realized that Mila wasn't gloating about the fact that her relationship to her mom was biological--which still would have been completely understandable because after all these are kids--she was just happy that her mom hadn't given her away. I couldn't very well say that Lucero's first mom had not, in fact, given her up for adoption, but had died. Because then what about Hope, whose biological mother is still alive? So, I try to smooth things with a spiel about how families come in all shapes and sizes, and what matters is the love, etc., etc.

Just when I think we've gotten back into the safe zone, I see that Rosie is sulking, looking sort of like this:

I say, "Rosie, what's wrong with you?" And she says petulantly, "I want you to adopt me, Mommy." I started to counter with why that wouldn't be necessary, but it just wasn't the time. So, defeated, I said, "Okay, honey."

Maybe Magdalena will be the judge, and she'll sit in a chair like this:

You really can't win for trying. This incident was proof that no matter how much you ruminate on all the possible scenarios in which you will have to run interference on the topic of a blended family, you can't anticipate what kids will hone in on. I've always feared a day would come when Lucero would say, "You're not my real mommy!" or "You don't love me as much as you love Rosie and Magdalena!" Or the day that Rosie says, "Ha, ha, Lucero, I was in mommy's tummy and you weren't!" Oh, don't get me wrong, the girls already have their measuring sticks and scales, and are ever vigilante of who gets more of what, but it's just in the way that all sisters do. I can handle that. It's never about one child being more truly mine than the other. 

I know that the future has many adventures in store for us, and I also know that my daughters will manage to create excitement that all of my various contingency plans won't anticipate. In fact, remind me to tell you about Rosie's questions and conclusions about Vanessa. It's kinda beautiful and deserves its own post.