I met with the new caseworker for Adam on Friday. Adam is our one year old foster child, and we are still not sure if we will be able to adopt him. The current word is that the goal for the case is still adoption, and the caseworker - who only does adoptions - said that she wouldn't have the case at all if they (The State) didn't think he'd become available for adoption.

Anyway, while she was here, Anna popped into the living room to give the caseworker the third degree: What's your name? What's your middle name? Do you have any brothers? Why not? What's in your pocketbook? Can I look at that? Do you have a sister? What's her middle name? (As you can see, we are still working on the idea of not talking to strangers...)

While we were discussing Adam's case - that is trying to discuss Adam's case while trying to get Anna to stop interrupting - she asked if Anna was our daughter. I answered in the affirmative - and explained that she too was adopted through the foster care system. The case worker then asked in surprise if Anna knew she was adopted. I, in turn, was surprised at her surprise. Of course Anna knows she's adopted. Do you remember when you were told what your gender was? Since being adopted is going to be very much part of her identity as she gets older, we wanted it to be woven into the fabric of who she is as much as possible. Meaning that we didn't want it to be as if it was an add-on - something we were afraid or waiting to tell her.

The same thing with being Jewish. Anna has known for a long time that she's Jewish - and it's something that as she gets older she will be able to say that she's always known. It is our hope that it will help to make her "labels of identity" less label-like and more just part of who she is. When a person is at peace and well adjusted, I would hope that it is easier for others to accept them for who they are as well.