Ukraine Adoption

That's what people do

Tara runs to her swing in the back yard and throws herself onto it, tummy first, arms dangling onto to the ground, hair flowing into her face. "That's what people do," she tells me.

She jams all kinds of things, like a small doll, a pencil, a key chain, a clown nose, into her fake leopard-skin purse and puts it on her shoulder. Then she struts outside and says "C'mon Mom." I smile, and tell her that's a lot of stuff in her purse. She says, "That's what people do."

I pull her in the red wagon to the park on a beautiful, sunny Sunday, she wears sunglasses and sits on a blue blanket like a little princess being carried to the ball. She brings her purse. At the park, she says, "Watch this," about 100 times, but she doesn't need to because I don't take my eyes off her. (I still marvel at her every move.) She jumpts to grab onto the bar and hangs down. "That's what people do," she says.

Indeed, this little three-year-old girl, a former resident of a Ukraine orphanage, has been home in the U.S. just one year, and has figured out what people do.

People ask me if she still speaks Russian or Ukrainian. No, she does not. She speaks 100 percent English. She is very chatty. She has opinions on most things. She does not like to be left out of a conversation. She tells stories with such excitement that you forget to pay attention to what she is saying because you are smiling too much.