All this talk about what to call the various moms in our children’s lives reminded me of how many crazy ways I’ve been asked about how LuLu got into our family.

Because she’s Chinese, it is very apparent that she does not look like us. We have been stared at, talked down to, asked all kinds of inappropriate and nosey questions.

“Is she yours?” is the most common one.

“Where’s she from?” is another subtle way of asking us if she’s adopted.

But when someone asks about how much she cost, it still gets me.

I am usually very open about answering questions, as long as they aren’t rudely worded or too intrusive. I’m cognizant at how eager we were as pre-adoptive parents and how excitedly we approached every family with an Asian-eyed child who looked starkly different than they did. And because, deep in my heart, I am pro-adoption, I would never want to shut down a sincere inquiry about forming a family by adoption.

But some of the ways in which people ask about the obvious are incredibly amusing. Children ask in the most innocent, and frequently entertaining, way. Very often they just follow us around, hovering and staring until they catch my eye. But, nothing beats the one that happened just the other day.

LuLu’s been going to this day camp/socialization program for special needs children. One of the other children there saw me for the first time the other day. There are several adopted children in the program, so I frankly thought he was probably adopted. I quickly changed my mind.

He said, eyeing me suspiciously, “Who are you?”

“I’m LuLu’s mom.”

“Wow,” he studied us for a while.

Then he exclaimed: “I’ll bet you never expected to give birth to a Chinese girl, did you?”

I was speechless!