Baby girl is learning to defend herself. Scratching and biting are her favorite modes of deterring an older brother to leave her alone. This post should have been first because this story gets to the heart of the "What Color is Love" post.
So, to start off with, although perhaps it's evident, we love pigment. We have all types of shades of skin tones, not only in our immediate family but extended as well. Nationality and race are also not an issue. Although I do not understand when someone has a differing pigment opinion I am respectful of their beliefs and choices. Now back to Loaf.
At some point during Loafie's adoption process we learned (from our birthmother's lawyer) that Loafie had been matched with another family who at the last minute, prior to her birth, decided that they didn't feel confident or comfortable in raising a child who was black. I remember being stunned and grateful all at the same time.
Stunned because I did not understand how someone could feel that way, but appreciative and respectful of their choice because they are living true to their lives and feelings. Grateful, because their decision enabled me to have a most beautiful and precious daughter.
So back to the color of love, sometimes I look at Loafie and giggle. I feel like I've won some sneaky prize. I wonder what that other family would say if they saw her now. I'm sure nothing because this little hot-blooded baby girl is exactly where she should be, and I am confident that other family is perfectly matched with a child that is exactly who God intended for them.
But sometimes I can't help but giggle (which probably makes me a bit petty) because she is the color of love.