She’s a reader, that one

So what if it’s in her laundry hamper,
placed at the foot of my bed, with my comforter pulled over as a backrest.
Reading is reading, right?

Tea … and tidy hair

Daahling, let’s have tea … yes?
And don one of those headbands you so adore. In fact, wear them all!
And why not layer those shirts, too?
(A lady should be at the ready should it get chilly …)

An omnium-gatherum

Ever feel like you have so very much you want to say but the effort it would require to give it the respect and time it deserves is totally beyond your current energy reserve?

Frankly, the very thought of buckling down, sending home and publishing as posts the myriad drafts I’ve got in the hopper –  having to spill out all the necessary verbs, pronouns and conjuctions and then string them together in a reasonably prolific and comprehensive way — exhausts me.

And then there are lots of other thoughts in my pea brain bouncing to and fro, projects and plans in the pipedream stage, concerns and frustrations about certain adoption-related situations, pleasure at having met some interesting online folks recently through their comments or private emails, and then the usual drama of parenting an adorable, independent and feisty toddler who’s just moved into her “Big Girl Room” (oh, just wait for those pics – my mother and I were armed with paint brushes and drunk on creative kool-aid) and as a result, now pops up at an unreasonable early time each and every stinkin’ day (OK, I must admit she’s always been a late riser as 10 am on the weekends was not, ahem, unusual, because she’d sit in her crib, then later in her three-sided crib, for more than an hour after waking, just looking at books, sing-songing and talking with herself!) and so I’m now incredibly morning-sleep-deprived. (Airquotes on sleep-deprived because a certain friend of mine would growl at that notion, sure to remind me she’s had an early riser since her daughter was born and I actually know nothing of sleep-deprived.)

Plus … I’ve  got photos to edit and share! Photos I love!

Ah, so much I want to do yet such a dearth of creative energy. It’s a pickle.

But! I have a solution! My birthday is just a couple days away and so I’m treating myself to a mani and a horribly needed pedi and I’m sure this bit of pampering will spark my creative soul and provide a refuel of sorts. Yes? (On a pathetic note, that pampering is courtesy of a gift card from my birthday last year and I’m just now getting to it.)

So I shall be back, armed with stories, melt-my-heart photos and blathering opinions, and will stand at the ready, fountain pen in my newly manicured paw.

Perhaps y’all (shout out to my Southern Illnois childhood right there) could re-ink your own wells and leave thee a comment once in a while. My stats don’t lie — I see you’re out there, you quiety-mcquiets.

After all, a girl needs to feel loved. Especially as she’s on the cusp of officially turning another year older and beginning the slide dooooown toward a big, scary, this-can’t-really-be-happening number she’s finding herself seriously annoyed about. (And, not for nothing, but thinking of that number has her thinking about other kinds of ink, too. As in the permanent, oh-just-live-a-little-and-ignore-all-the-cellulite kind of ink. Design ideas are always welcome and, frankly, encouraged.)

There. I’m. Done. Me and my run-ons (yet with accurate hyphenations, aren’t you impressed?) are outta here. For now. I’ve got my dog-eared Sark book on Living a Succulent Life before me, my favorite source for handmade goodness loading as we speak, and I’m counting the minutes until my solitude and salon-time.)

Bring on the creative juices.

 

Frosty reminder (or “Good calories!”)

This weekend Wendy’s will be donating 50 cents from every Frosty sold to the Dave Thomas Foundation for Adoption.

With the nasty heat wave currently frying my brain here on the East Coast — good goddess, will it ever break? — a cold, chocolaty ice cream treat benefiting children in foster care sounds like a mighty fine idea.

Check out rockinfrosty.com and find the time to swing through the drive-thru this weekend.

Considering adopting? Look and learn.

At face value, the list you’ll find below is written most especially for the folks – as prospective adoptive parents – searching adoption-related keywords who find themselves landing here at musings:mamahood&more. Since I see your searches and know you’re here, I’ve got something to share with you that I, as an adoptive mother, believe is truly invaluable.

Yet much of this also will benefit those on the fringe of adoption – someone who knows someone who …, or someone who’s watched one too many Lifetime movies (just one is too many, by the way) and thinks they know all about adoption thankyouverymuch.

In either case, the list that follows is a must-read. For the former, there are things you must understand before you adopt. It’s that simple. Things that, for the good of the child you will love and should want to raise to a healthy adulthood, you must understand — and embrace. For the latter, consider this a crash course on some realities of adoption. Perhaps you will better understand its nuances and realize that no one person in an adoption is better, or more worthy, or more deserving of respect, or, or, or … than the other.

And although it feels like the words that follow surely were stolen from my own mouth, mind and heart while I slept, these truths actually come from Tina of Hearts Wide Open — she is both an adoptee and an adoptive parent. Brava to her for succinctly and smartly putting it all out there.

She describes her list as “ideas and concepts to reconsider during your wait.” With her permission, I’m publishing it here because I believe so very heartily in its message and its import.

***

VERNACULAR:
1. She is not a birth mother if she hasn’t given birth or signed termination of parental rights. If you are ‘matched’ with a pregnant woman considering adoption, she isn’t ‘your’ birth mother and the baby isn’t ‘yours’ either.

2. Let’s give the terms original mother, first mother and other mother a fighting chance. Consider a woman’s feelings and worth and how you’re reducing her role when you call her ‘birthmother’.

3. Don’t ever breathe one single negative word about your child’s mother, father, state, country, race or culture. Not for any reason. If there are disturbing facts in the situation, state them plainly and support the feelings that may come. But don’t add commentary.

EXPECTATIONS:
1. Tough, but the truth. No one owes you anything. Infertility does not buy you the right to parent someone else’s baby. This fact sucks, but there it is.

2. This isn’t going to win over any friends, but here it goes: God did not handpick or decide to have someone else get pregnant for your benefit. Believe me, I understand how it feels that your child is perfect for you, was the missing piece in your family, or is spiritually connected to you. That still does not mean there was a grand, benevolent or divine plan to have a misfortune befall a woman so a child could fulfill your family, or so that you could feel as though you are doing what your church teaches you is right. Children are not pawns. Neither are their mothers. Also, just because you believe that children ought to have a two-parent home in which the parents are married, this still does not earn you the right to dictate what ought to happen to that child.

3. Along these lines, later in life, do not tell your child he or she ‘grew in the wrong tummy’. Do not tell them that he or she was ‘chosen’. Do not tell him you were able to give him ‘a better life’. It’s a different life. You can’t know that your family and life would be better. [My added qualifier here: This, of course, does not refer to a child experiencing abuse.] Don’t go into an adoption without the implicit understanding that your family will be different than if you had children biologically. You are taking on extra responsibilities [My emphasis added]. This means that your child needs nurturing that encompasses their feelings which typically include, but are not exclusive of: lifelong feelings of rejection, insecurity, a certain ‘otherness’ and also feelings of grandiosity. Do you have a long-term plan to support your child if you begin to see these things creep up? Do not minimize the impact of adoption. (Yes, even if you adopted at birth.) If you could, ask any newborn baby who they want to be with. They want to be with that lady who sounds familiar.

4. Put your infertility issues in the past. If you are adopting straight out of your doctor’s stirrups, you are setting up a highly charged situation which can propel you into unethical behavior such as coercion of a pregnant woman. It isn’t appropriate for a woman to decide on adoption until after her baby is born, [and she should have] an advocate who is talking with her about all her options and telling her of the support available to her. If you have a serious broken heart and a houseful of baby stuff — that’s some serious danger! A child you adopt should not be put to work by being there to heal the serious and lingering pain of infertility. Besides, healing doesn’t work that way, anyway.

5. Do nothing but encourage honest feelings from your child about how they see their adoption.

6. Do not lie or misrepresent facts to your child. Adoption happened to your child and they had no say in the matter. Honor your child with the truth. Do as much as you can to obtain their original birth certificate.

7. If your child is old enough to know their name, which is probably younger than you might think it is, don’t change it.

8. Just because you see the world and people of color as being represented by a beautiful rainbow of colors does not mean the rest of the world does. The public can be a cruel place for your child. People say stupid and racist things. Be prepared for this if you have adopted a child whose skin color does not match yours. How will you teach your child tolerance while others are being intolerant?

GET BRAINY:
1. Read Twenty Things Adopted Kids Wish Their Adoptive Parents Knew by Sherry Eldridge. [Edited to add: There are other such books worth a read – look hard for them. Some parts might be tough to read, but they are a necessity. One of Tina’s commenters recommends Outsiders Within to anyone involved in or considering a transracial adoption.

2. Don’t read books about how you can say and do things that will speed up the process. (Yes, there is a book like this.)

CHECK ON YOUR AGENCY:
Check with your state for any grievances or complaints on file regarding your adoption and/or placing agency. E-mail previous clients, find those not on the list given by the agency.

CONCLUSION:
This is not a transaction. We are dealing with human lives. And, as beautiful as you might see the whole idea of adoption, for those of us who have experienced the many feelings of loss because of adoption, we ask you to consider the above.

Don’t strip away or deny what is real and what may be troubling for the others involved, namely your child and his or her mother. Please uphold the bond between mother and child. Celebrate family — the one you’ve created and the family that your child also has somewhere else.

If you can’t do these things, or at the very least, aren’t willing to examine and challenge your given ideas and even your core beliefs, then you probably aren’t ready to be an adoptive parent.

Maeve’s First Joke?!

Move over, Sarah Silverman. Step aside, Whoopi Goldberg. Not so fast, Ellen DeGeneres. Make room for … Maevy Gravy. Maybe.

This was a conversation in our house a few days ago:

Miss M: Mommmmay!
Yours Truly: Yes, Maeve?
Miss M: Knock! Knock!
Yours Truly, after realizing my child is actually about to attempt a joke: Who’s There?
Miss M: MEEEE!!! (She smiles, bursts into giggles and bounds off, totally delighted with herself.)

* * *

Keeping with her new role as arbiter of humor, yesterday she and I were in Home Depot looking for paint for her new Big Girl Bedroom furniture (some funky vintage furniture we’ve had stored in our garage since before we ever were parents) and we were making our way down a main aisle along the plumbing department.

I was in the daze I tend to be in while shopping that store when suddenly, from her spot in the orange wagon, she jumped to life, pointed at a display we passed and yelled: “Mommmay! A Potteeeeee!”

She scared the you-know-what out of me and when I looked back to see where she was pointing, a man pushing his cart behind us also was laughing at her shock and, well, awe. I suppose when much of your life has become potty-centered, and you’ve only seen them in the context of bathrooms, it is a bit strange to see one perched high on a shelf in a store.

I laughed with the man as the look of surprise on her face really was something.

Then she suddenly got very serious, scrunched up her face, her little nose all creased, curls dangling above her big, brown eyes, and she said — as sternly as a toddler can: “Mommmay! Why laughing, mommmay? That no funny!”

Well, okay then.

It’s official! NJ has Paid Adoption Leave

At noon today Gov. Jon S. Corzine signed the paid family leave bill into law, calling it a “legacy moment” and a “moral necessity.”

Beginning January 1, 2009 payroll deductions will begin being taken, and employees will be eligible to take up to six weeks of paid time off beginning July 1, 2009.

More than 12 years in the making. But, finally, it’s law — and all employers are covered by it.

Interesting that under this new law, employers have the option of requiring the first two weeks of that leave be covered by vacation or sick time.  Sick time — precisely what I tried to wrangle every which way into an arrangement for me to spend those first weeks home with Maeve while not completely going cold turkey on a much-needed income.

At the time, I had accrued — through my more than 10 years with the company — 96 days of sick leave. 96 Days. I wasn’t asking to use all those days, but had offered to use whatever amount we agreed on, and then forfeit additional days for good measure.

No go. I was told that would be “setting a precedent” since I “wouldn’t be sick.”

Funny how the new law actually considers sick time a viable option.

Aint that a kick in the pants.

Oh, well, just Ignore my frustration and celebrate! This is indeed a very long time coming!

(For a history of the bill and its journey through the legislature, check out the Paid Leave Tab above.)

“Happiness Runs” (Smack Into) “Pony Boy”: A Review

I was uber-excited to receive my review copy of “That Baby CD” and “That Baby DVD.”

Like … Could. Not Wait.

Teased by the prospect of “acoustic cover versions of songs made popular by artists like Fleetwood Mac, Neil Diamond, The Pretenders, Joni MItchell and others. This is music the whole family can enjoy,” I worked to keep my expectations at a reasonable level and tried not to look too excited when I ripped open the packaging.

To learn what I found inside the cool earthy cover with a brown and orange swirl vintage vibe, head on over to my Reviews page.  There’s also a discount coupon code and a chance to win an iPod Nano lurking there.

Is it your day or what?

Scaring Away the Adoption Goblins

As published in the Spring AFTH newsletter — click my mama column logo at the right to access the complete newsletter:

Every so often I read — or even am told by virtual strangers — that adoption is scary. Some of these folks are prospective adoptive parents considering whether or how adoption fits in their lives, and others have little knowledge of adoption outside of the relatively rare — considering the number of adoptions annually — stories of scams or situations gone awry picked up by the media.

So, is adoption scary? Yes.

But not for what might be considered the “obvious” reasons. Let’s start at the beginning.
Adoption means opening your heart to a child that didn’t come from your womb, loving a child not created with your own genetic contribution.

(Nope. Not the scary part.)

Although my husband and I did the obligatory research at the start of our adoption process, we actually brought to the table experience from another side of adoption. My husband was adopted in the 1970s, the era of closed records, and knows very little about his story, his own nature versus nurture, and the people responsible for bringing him into the world. Between everything we learned about openness in adoption, and everything we already knew about being part of a closed adoption, our choice and preference for openness was clear.

The agency classes that followed explained the practical parts of an open adoption: a minimum of letters, photos and an annual picnic visit.

(And no, that’s not scary either.)

After all, my own longing to become a parent and the loss in not yet having a child in my life made me acutely aware of the intensity wrapped up in motherhood. As much as I wanted to be a mom, I couldn’t let my own motherhood somehow negate another woman’s. So cultivating a relationship between my child and his or her other mother was something I hoped for.

(Still not shaking in my boots.)

Truth is, after placement, I made it through all that without any trouble. After all:
• Loving Maeve? Piece of cake!
• Writing long, lovingly detailed letters to her first mother? Not a problem!
• Sharing copies of the loads of photos we were taking? Nothing to it!

At our first picnic, I watched with awe as my 11-month old interacted with her first mom. Like the paparazzi, I snapped photos all afternoon, capturing moments I knew only they could share.

When it was time to say goodbye, the tears pushing themselves from my face reflected the sadness I hadn’t realized was building inside me that day. My daughter would have no recollection of that sweet afternoon in the park, or the time spent in her first mother’s arms.

(Now that? That scared me.)

I was scared of losing contact with Maeve’s first mother, scared she would decide it was too hard and pull away, scared she would decide to close any openness we had and Maeve would lose the vital connection to her story.

Since my daughter was born two and a half years ago, our relationship with her first mother has grown — especially so in the last year.

Although Maeve’s first mom may need a break periodically, I’m trusting in the conversations we’ve had about communicating that and other needs as they arise. While I’m aware there will be an ebb and flow to this special relationship, I also know we all have Maeve’s best interests at heart. Last week we sent a rainbow Maeve painted to her first mom, as well as a little gift for a special member of her first family. We’ve exchanged full names, addresses, phone numbers and I created a special e-mail address just for our communications.

We’ve chatted by instant messenger — sometimes just to simply say hello — and we’ve begun to talk about getting together this summer for a weekend.

Doing these things erases nothing from me — rather, it brings me more fulfillment as Maeve’s mother because I see all the parts of her present in her life and know I’m doing everything in my power to raise a happy, whole child.

Go ahead. Ask Maeve whose belly she grew in and she’ll tell you.

Ask her how much I love her and her arms fly open wide.

These are the moments and conversations of her truth that remedy even the most scary adoption goblins.

Me, flaky? No. Sweet? Yes!

I have to be honest.

I’ve never liked flake cereal. Corn flakes, flakes with nuggets of granola, heck — put a box of flakes with nuggets of actual 24K gold on the grocery shelf and I’d still likely push my shopping cart right by. I see cereal flakes and something in my brain shuts off dies.

So you can imagine my skepticism when I received a box of Kellogg’s new Frosted Flakes Gold for my review here on mamahood:musings&more’s Reviews page. I didn’t exactly tear into the darn thing. (It was slower and more methodical. Like getting a bill you really don’t want but you know you have to pay.)

Still, the box was opened and eating ensued. For all the flaky (and sweet!) details, head on over to my Reviews page.