Vegetables then Dessert

M stares hard at his plate. "Can I eat whatever I want?" The answer is the same, "Eat your veggies first." His little face scrunches up into a scowl as he stabs his lettuce with a fork. Finally, his plate is clean. "Can I have dessert?" 

...

In our home vegetables come before dessert. That is the rule. Otherwise my sweet loving M would fill himself with sugar and not look back at the green stuff on his plate. I have a sweet tooth too. I understand his pain.  

Life is like that. There is a way to things. Usually, the unpleasant bits come first and then we get to experience the pleasures. We work to earn a paycheck. Then we go shopping. We eat veggies then dessert. Clean then play. Love then loved in return.  Eating veggies first makes dessert all that more enjoyable. 

Life is like that. My life is like that. There are moments so beautiful that I can't contain my joy. Moments so precious my heart could burst. Every morning I wake up to wonderful possibilities. 

Every morning I wake up knowing that there could be pain. I could get a call from the school, again. I could be hit or bit. I could experience loss or sadness. And sometimes it happens. And it hurts. And I blog about the ugly so that people will know and be a little more careful. 

But life, my life is so much more than heartache and pain. I have so much more than a plate full of vegetables. Yes, I have to eat them. Yes, I have to take it. But dessert is soooo worth it. It doesn't matter if M sinks his teeth into me.  If someone rejects me or M. If the school calls one more time. My life is precious. And joy is there. Always. 

I am linking up here

Family Traditions

"Who's turn is it this week?" A question that is often asked in our home. 

I don't remember if it was the 1st week we brought him home or sometime after that.

Some people may think that we are encouraging bad habits, and maybe we are. But hey if bad habits work then why not! (at least sometimes). 

Every Saturday night after dinner and before bed time our family pops a giant bowl of popcorn and cuddles up on the couch. We take turns choosing. This coming Saturday is M's turn. I am guessing that at some point he will mention Rapunzel (Disney's Tangled) or Ice Age. He doesn't always choose the same movie but enough times that we can quote them fairly well. 

It is one of those things that you do that just sticks. We all love it. M says often that he wishes every day were Saturday. I would like to think that it isn't just watching TV for 90 minutes that makes it such a family favorite. We laugh together, we snuggle and chat. We have fun. 

We have watched almost every decent movie on Netflix and I am not sure what we will do when we get through all of them, but I suppose M won't mind if we repeat a few. :) 

I am linking up here

What It's Really Like Wednesday #2 ... Popularity Contest

"Ahhhhhhhhh!!!!" M's scream ripped through the room. He ran in, tears streaming down his face, grasping one hand in the other "Momma! Ahhhhhh! Momma!" The hubs was standing closer but M bypassed him and made a frantic beeline to me.  My arms encircled him, pulling him in close and tight. "What happened? Are you ok?" He was incoherent through his tears and intermittent sobs. Finally someone explained. M, my rambunctious boy was playing hard. He had met the pavement and found it wasn't kind. He held his little hand close to his body protecting it. Gently, slowly I coaxed him into showing me. He held it out tentatively, like a skittish animal, ready to run at any moment. The skin was broken, like a skinned knee would be. "Can I kiss it?" He nodded his head slightly and I softly touched his hand to my lips. "I love you forever," I whisper.
...
A silly story, a silly memory but it is burned into my memory as few others will be. It was the first time. The first time my son chose me. For so long no matter what I did, or said or tried it was always Daddy. He wanted Daddy. I was just a woman, just another woman in a long line of them. Not the woman he wanted but the one he had. A poor replacement in his mind. The loser in a very important popularity contest.
Sometimes I understood. My brain would tell me what my heart couldn't understand. Time, it would take time. And time was something we had. Forever in fact. Forever Family. He didn't know, how could he. Promises broken by so many, by the people he loved. Why would we be different? Why would I be different?
So many times I bit my tongue and let the tears burn my eyes and throat. "I can do this. I can do this. He needs time. He needs time. Oh, God help me. " Over and over my brain repeated, only sometimes getting through to my wounded heart. The pain seared. Knowing your son doesn't want you. But he was just a little boy, lost in a world of adults doing what's best.
Time. Love. Faithfulness. All working to heal a little heart. I can smile. It isn't hopeless. The moments are more frequent now. He seeks for me. He loves me. Forever family. It slowly sinks it, settling in his heart and mine. "I love you forever."

I am linking up here...

What It's Really Like Wednesday #1 ... It happens at bath time

I have decided for my sanity and the salvation of yours (ok maybe I am exaggerating just a little) that every Wednesday I will blog about the nitty gritty (aka ugly bits) portions of parenting, and specifically parenting a child with a tragic past. I do not want any of my readers to think that I am downplaying or disregarding the difficult parts of parenting in general, I realize that being a parent, no matter where your child came from, is a difficult job to say the least. I know from experience that raising a child with "special needs" (a term that implies some sort of medical or mental need, actually is used to be all inclusive for any child that has had a difficult past and lives in a family that is not theirs biologically) has some unique qualities.
I have debated what particular story to relate to you, and I think I have decided to start at the beginning, or very nearly there.
Shortly after M moved in with us our happy little bubble was popped.
The hubs and I were still on cloud 9. We were so happy to be parents that we walked around in a glowing haze of giddiness, not realizing that our little boy was scared practically spitless. We were nice, but we were strangers and he missed the people he knew and loved (this unfortunately, did not include us).
...
M and I watched as the water drained from the tub, swirling and whirling down the small hole. I braced myself for the words I knew were coming. M put as much of his hand as would fit in the drain, "I am going down there and I am NEVER coming back! You will never see me again!" I replied the same way I did every night, "Where would you go? You don't want to go down there it is icky and slimy." "I am going to go live with P, not with you." The words cut. My sweet precious M didn't love me, he wanted P the foster mom he knew and loved, the woman he considered his mom. I grabbed his foot and playfully pulled him towards me, "No! I won't let you. You are mine forever!" He pulled back, less playfully, truly wishing that he could somehow leave his new home and go back. I pulled again, this time pulling him out of the tub, wrapping him in a towel and my arms "You are mine forever. I will never let you!" This time he let me hug him, "I have lived a lot of different places," he said sadly. My heart broke again, this time for him and not for my hurt feelings. "I know bud, I know. It must be so hard." In a small voice he agreed. Then with his usual swiftness he replaced his frown with a smile and asked if he could help with the lotion. The moment was over and we moved on chatting and smiling building on a fragile foundation, building a new foundation really. It was over for the moment, but I knew that tomorrow would be the same. We would repeat again and again the painful conversation, a little differently maybe, but always the same underneath cutting for me and sad for him.
...

I read once that the adoption relationship is unique because it begins with loss. Loss for the child- they have lost their biological family and the security that most children have of taking for granted that their family is their family forever. Loss for the parent- instead of the idealic dream of little mini me's running around, the parents must come to terms with the fact that they will likely never have biological offspring. Loss for extended family/community- people must let go of their envisioned plan for the people that they know and love and accept a child that may be less than pleasant or not match the parents physically.  I will be honest, when I read the description of adoption as a loss based relationship, I hated it! How dare someone describe my family as something less than wonderful. But as much as I hate to admit it, there is truth in the statement. Our family is different, it is wonderful, but it is different.

My son's relationship with us, his parents, is founded on the loss of people that he knew and loved. It isn't the way I want it to be. This is a hard truth for me to swallow but I have realized that if I can't acknowledge that he did love other "mothers" before me, that they are important, then I can't fully appreciate when he says, "You are my bestest momma ever."

I am linking up here...

http://www.awisewomanbuildsherhome.com/

A Happy Birthday

Hello,
It has been a while. Sorry. My intent is to be consistent with these posts (3x a week is the plan). I will do my best to maintain this schedule. Thank you for your patience...

And now on with the fun stuff...

M just had a birthday! I can't believe how big he is getting (something I think every mother has said at least once while looking at their child). For me though, I feel a little cheated. I have only been able to spend the last 2 birthdays with him, so in a weird sort of way to me he is just two (and actually he hasn't been with us for two years yet, figure that one out). Anyways, as you will soon find out about me I love to plan things. I am a firm believer in the birthdays-are-meant-to-be-memorable-and-fun rule.

M has been loving all things spys for quite some time (why yes, I have seen all 4 Spy Kids films thank you very much). We decided to throw him a spy party, and when I say we, I really mean me, because when I suggested the idea to the hubs he looked at me like I was crazy and double checked that I would be doing all planning and organizing of said event. (He really is wonderful, don't get the wrong idea, he was invaluable for the party, but the planning was hands off for him).

The party was soooooo much fun!

  The idea was that M's stuffed monkey, Darryl, was captured while on a super secret spy mission. The agents (kids at the party) were assigned to rescue him from the evil Bad Bart Bomber (aka the hubs).

The kids had clues for each step, beginning with a video message from the President of OSS and Darryl. They played my version of "I Spy", received a clue and a shovel from Agent Lewis, dug up a clue down by the river, went to the local market, diffused a bomb (a piñata painted black), put on disguises, climbed through a laser field (yarn stretched across a hallway) and finally rescued Darryl in Bad Bart Bomber's lair (a bouncy castle).

I had fun, the kids had fun. I have no idea how I am going to top it next year.

Have a wonderful day and happy party planning!

I am linking up with The Life of Faith at ...
http://the-life-of-faith.blogspot.com/2014/01/mommy-moments-77.html