Finding Another New Groove

I'll have to update my profile soon...but not tonight. Tonight, I'm running on pure adrenaline and the moment my body realizes what my brain already knows (that it [my body] is on E and the fumes aren't going to get it much further...), I'll be collapsing.

Today was the first day, since she was 5 weeks old, that A has had a dual-working parent family.

I get it now. I get all of it. I understand the pangs of regret that happen when you get home in a flurry of activity, cooking, cleaning, and suddenly - it's bedtime.

It took us a little bit to get into our groove when she started Play Skool. After all, I was suddenly getting home an hour and a half later (5 instead of 3:30), with toddler in tow no less. Now, with one car and the three of us car pooling, it's later still.

Did I mention that we get up between 5 and 5:30 in the morning? No? Well, we do. [falls down]

It'll work out of course. It always does. I found my groove after only a few days last time. It's just a shame that I have to leave for the field for almost a week just a few days into this new routine.

I keep reminding myself that when she starts elementary school, I can go back to my old schedule. Then again, she won't be a toddler anymore and, for all of the tantrums and messes and lumps, I really don't want to rush her out of this stage of development just for a schedule change. It's entirely too much fun. After all, having a 2-year old teach you a new dance just before bed absolutely cannot be beat.

Only but Not Lonely

"So. When are you going to give A a little brother or sister?" This, mind you, isn't from my mom or M's mom or any actual relative at all. This is the mantra of older friends, neighbors, and general acquaintances since A is now 2.

"Oh, how about never?" is my pre-recorded response. Always, I'm met with protest. Kids should have siblings, families are to be treasured, blah, blah, blah. I've found that the best way to end the conversation (short of a beer bottle upside the head) is to say, "Fine. You pay for it, I'll do it. That means diapers, food, clothes, toys, birthdays, Christmases, after-school activities, college...you know. The works."

But now I've committed the Ultimate Sin. I've ensured, surgically, that I will have no more children. I just turned 35 myself; I have an amazing son in the world and my own little 2-foot tall Viking Horde in the house. Children, the having of, was never an imperative for me to begin with. We are happy just the way we are and A is certainly not wanting for playmates or, presently, for material things.

But why...why is it the wont of some to push their family ideals on others? I find that the most vociferous of these people are those who came from a large family but don't, themselves, have an immediate family of their own.

Let me give you the short and sweet when it comes to my opinion of living vicariously through others, whether it be your friends, your children (especially your children), your favorite screen character or author: STOP. You have your life, with all of it's lumps, corkscrews and bumps. STOP living through others. Live what you've been given and if it's unsavory, change it. It's your life. Get your grubby paws off of mine.

We don't want more children, no matter what anyone else thinks for us. We love the one we have. We can provide for her. Maybe her experience as an only child will make her want a large family in the future, but so far, she's on par with her peers socially and intellectually. It hasn't hurt her, neither has it spoiled her.

What about you? Is less more or do you think that everyone should have lots of children to love?

Adoption - It's For Life, Not Until the Warranty Runs Out

I've been largely offline lately, owing to a recent surgical procedure and subsequent regimen of medication that has rendered me useless in any venue requiring coherence, so this morning, I thought I would catch up on some news over breakfast.

What a mistake. After seeing this headline, Russia Furious Over Adopted Boy Sent Back From US, I choked on my eggs. My blood pressure rose and parts of my body that were only throbbing twanged with renewed pain. It's true, stress and anger manifest themselves physically.

The crux of the story is this: A woman in the US adopted a boy from Russia who, after a period of time, she claims became too violent and difficult to handle. So, she bought him a one-way ticket back to Mother Russia, with the equivalent of a "Return to Sender" note pinned to him.

As adoptee, birth mother, and general advocate for adoption in general, I was outraged. I've seen it too many times in forums and in anti-adoption websites (Google it. Have fun reading)..."it" being this notion that adopted children are malcontents who come pre-packaged with issues beyond the norm and no reasonable parent-in-waiting should be asked to burden themselves. It doesn't matter whether the child is adopted later in life or as a newborn, it's an industry we must not feed, producing demon spawn that will eat our generous souls.

Adoption, whether done here in the US or overseas, is expensive. Yes. It's no guarantee of familial bliss either. I can attest to that, remembering the own misery I inflicted on my family. But they didn't send me back with a note. They rode out the storm and are still my family to this day. They, unlike Ms. Nancy Hansen's daughter, understood that family comes in all forms and that adoption is an agreement to be that family, for better or worse. It's, in fact, a larger committment than marriage. You don't normally divorce your children when they lash out. Instead, you seek help.

Ms. Nancy Hansen, the returned child's adopted grandmother, vehemently denies charges of child abandonment. After all, she claims, the boy was under the charge of a stewardess for the entire flight, and her daughter, the boy's adopted mother, had paid a stranger some 200 US dollars to pick the child up in Moscow.

Think about your families for a moment, whether blended, adopted, or biological. Think about your special needs children, your children with emotional problems - especially those of you who gave birth to those kids. Are there days you wish you could return them? Of course! Do you find yourselves clambering over them, demanding they get back to whence they came, right now!! No. Responsible, loving parents, no matter how they came to be, weather the storms, understanding that parenthood is a sacrifice, but that ultimately, they are responsible for fixing what is broken.

This Russian child has already been "abandoned" in his own mind once, by parents who could not, for whatever reason, raise him and gave him over to the state. He realized a dream that many children in orphanages around the world, including here in the US never do, and that was to find a family of his very own. Now, he's been abandoned again, by a woman who clearly doesn't understand that parenthood, whether natural or adopted, is forever, bumps, scary emotional rides and all.

What sort of precedent will this set in the end? How many children waiting for adoption will be affected by this woman's now public rejection of "broken goods"? How many other adoptive parents will ultimately follow this lead? And what sort of renewed voice will this give to the anti-adoption set?

As a mother, an adoptee, a birth mother, these questions will haunt me - as will the fate of that troubled little boy.

Keeping Up With the Joneses isn't Easy to do in Uniform

It's been almost a month since A started daycare but only about a week since M started job hunting. As we've all finally adapted to the new routine and are finally getting comfortable, M was offered a job with the following hours: Noon to 8 pm, Sunday through Friday. He accepted the job but...

Talk About a Moot Point

See yesterday's post.

Today, our long wait for daycare at my place of work ended. It began before A was born and I was assured that though my records would remain on file, I shouldn't call them, they would call us. The waiting list for the Center was...long. (Oh, hello, Understatement of the Year.)

Thus began our new roles, M as the SAHD and myself as the so-called breadwinner.

And suddenly, it's over. A will start full-time daycare in less than a week and a half and M has 90 days to find employment (the Center's policy, otherwise, A gets the boot).

With this huge shift, the shift we'd been talking about and the shift that I thought I was looking forward to in a way, comes a larger than anticipated sense of loss. You see, I've learned that M and A are part of the fabric of this neighborhood now. The butchers at the meat market around the corner see her every day on her walk as she stops to moo at the cows in the window - and they give her a lolli. The women at the drapery shop anticipate the time she'll come by, press her nose against the glass door and wave. The women at the Dunkin' Donuts must watch the clock because when they get there, M's coffee is ready, along with a bag of goodies for A. They lavish her with adoration.

It's Her Story, His Story & Our Story

Whenever we endeavor to start something, we have a vision. We see how it “will” go, play out, and we set about to make that vision unfold outside of our heads, in real life. So it was that I had a vision for this blog and the vision inspired the name. I would write about all aspects of being a mother in the reserve, the wings, the auxiliary – and that also included blogging about being a birth mother, one of my two roles in the adoption triumvirate. On several occasions, I sat down to write about it. Something I saw, something I read, something that triggered a desire to talk, share my opinion, do what it is that a blogger should do.

Each time, I stopped. And chose another topic. I realized that my role as a birth mother to a wonderful young man (now – wow) was only a small part of the story and to take his story, and that of his family, and put it here for all to see was something of a violation of his, and their, privacy.