Returning home from fixing Jory's hair, my mom told me that Jory had to finish his math from class and had math homework because he took hours upon hours to do a few problems in class. When Jory gets in one of his moods, it will take him a gazillion years to finish the simpliest of tasks. I guess in his own mind, he thinks the adult in question will cave. This kid doesn't know who his mother is.
I sat Jory down and had him start working on his math problems it was a combo of double digit addition problems that were either in column form or in row form. The row form was giving him problems. I explained to him about the world of scratch paper and how he could use the scratch paper to turn the row addition problems into column ones in order to solve the problem.
Jory wasn't in the listening mode so he pretended like he didn't understand the scratch paper concept. I went over the problems he got wrong and we went over them. Simple math errors like not carrying the one and such. He was being completely unresponsive and playing dumb. I felt my temperature rise and I had to walk away. God, so are you sure about the homeschooling thing? Cause maybe I misheard you.
I went and bathed the girls, let them played, packed clothes, ironed clothes, read bedtime stories, had devotionals, put the girls to bed, and Jory was still working on the same six problems.
I heard everything, he was cold, he was hungry, he was thirsty, he was sleepy. I tried to conjole, threaten, everything I could to motivate him. I used the timer, but nothing worked. I went to take a shower and came back and he was still dilly dallying around. At 11:30, he was in his sleeping bag sleeping fully dressed in his uniform. I moved him to the bedroom and let him sleep so we could begin it all again in the morning.
Oh what joy.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Where did it go wrong?
I was driving home after church and a wonderful fellowship time, when I noticed a hairstyling salon. I thought why don't we go here instead of me driving on the other side of LA to go to our usual place, well our sort of usual place. Why must places charge so much to cut kids' hair?
I turned into the strip mall and went inside. Yes, they cut boys' hair. I saw the woman's cosmotology license sitting against her mirror. She asked me what length cutter she should use.
She asked, "Half inch?"
I wasn't sure if that was the right one. So in her broken English, she told me she would show me on the side of his head. She shaved a tiny part above his ear and it was the right cutter.
I watched his hair fall to the ground, as the girls played. The hairstylist asked me about my kids as her own slightly older kids prepared to leave the salon with their dad. She was nice, friendly and made a super squirmy Jory laugh. And before I knew it she was done.
That quickly I thought. Then I saw bits of hair left. Yikes! I didn't think it was that difficult to shave all of Jory's head of. My rule of thumb is if Jory has to use a brush, his hair is too long and it's time for a haircut. She just botched my son's hair. She didn't seem to notice the mess that was his hair and I thought it best was to politely say, goodbye, grab my son, and make a run for it.
Lesson learn, I'm sticking with my regular woman and paying the gasp- - $8 - - to cut Jory's hair. Maybe I need to be cutting his hair myself. Save myself some money. I'd have to do a better job than the nice hairstylist from the OC.
I turned into the strip mall and went inside. Yes, they cut boys' hair. I saw the woman's cosmotology license sitting against her mirror. She asked me what length cutter she should use.
She asked, "Half inch?"
I wasn't sure if that was the right one. So in her broken English, she told me she would show me on the side of his head. She shaved a tiny part above his ear and it was the right cutter.
I watched his hair fall to the ground, as the girls played. The hairstylist asked me about my kids as her own slightly older kids prepared to leave the salon with their dad. She was nice, friendly and made a super squirmy Jory laugh. And before I knew it she was done.
That quickly I thought. Then I saw bits of hair left. Yikes! I didn't think it was that difficult to shave all of Jory's head of. My rule of thumb is if Jory has to use a brush, his hair is too long and it's time for a haircut. She just botched my son's hair. She didn't seem to notice the mess that was his hair and I thought it best was to politely say, goodbye, grab my son, and make a run for it.
Lesson learn, I'm sticking with my regular woman and paying the gasp- - $8 - - to cut Jory's hair. Maybe I need to be cutting his hair myself. Save myself some money. I'd have to do a better job than the nice hairstylist from the OC.
Car singing
Driving home on Friday night from AWANA, I parked in the driveway and turned to the kids and sang along with the radio,
"I could stay awake just to hear you breathing
Watch you smile while you are sleeping
Far away and dreaming
I could spend my life in this sweet surrender
I could stay lost in this moment forever
Well, every moment spent with you
Is a moment I treasure"
When I first heard this song on General Hospital, I thought while it was a very mushy, romantic love song, it worked better as a song from a parent to a child. A new parent would stay awake to watch their baby smile while he or she is sleeping.
Now here I was singing to my own children. It's a little over the top, but it was great to sing to them,
"I don't wanna close my eyes
I don't wanna fall asleep
'Cause I'd miss you, babe
And I don't wanna miss a thing
'Cause even when I dream of you
The sweetest dream will never do
I'd still miss you, babe
And I don't wanna miss a thing"
Layla, who was right beside me, I turned to her and said, "Layla,
Lying close to you
Feeling your heart beating
And I'm wondering what you're dreaming
Wondering if it's me you're seeing
Then I kiss your eyes and thank God we're together
And I just wanna stay with you
In this moment forever, forever and ever
Then I turned my head so my gaze could encompass all three and said, "Jory, Rowan, and Layla,
I don't wanna close my eyes
I don't wanna fall asleep
'Cause I'd miss you, babe
And I don't wanna miss a thing
'Cause even when I dream of you
The sweetest dream will never do
I'd still miss you, babe
And I don't wanna miss a thing
"Jory,
I don't wanna miss one smile
I don't wanna miss one kiss
Well, I just wanna be with you
Right here with you, just like this
I just wanna hold you close
Feel your heart so close to mine
And stay here in this moment
For all the rest of time
"Rowan,
Don't wanna close my eyes
Don't wanna fall asleep
'Cause I'd miss you, babe
And I don't wanna miss a thing
'Cause even when I dream of you
The sweetest dream will never do
'Cause I'd still miss you, babe
And I don't wanna miss a thing
"Layla,
I don't wanna close my eyes
I don't wanna fall asleep
'Cause I'd miss you, babe
And I don't wanna miss a thing
'Cause even when I dream of you
The sweetest dream will never do
I'd still miss you, babe
And I don't wanna miss a thing
"Guys,
Don't wanna close my eyes
Don't wanna fall asleep, yeah
I don't wanna miss a thing
The kids smiled at the end of the song, then Jory got into my lap, drove us up the driveway, and safely home. I'm madly in love with these rugrats!
"I could stay awake just to hear you breathing
Watch you smile while you are sleeping
Far away and dreaming
I could spend my life in this sweet surrender
I could stay lost in this moment forever
Well, every moment spent with you
Is a moment I treasure"
When I first heard this song on General Hospital, I thought while it was a very mushy, romantic love song, it worked better as a song from a parent to a child. A new parent would stay awake to watch their baby smile while he or she is sleeping.
Now here I was singing to my own children. It's a little over the top, but it was great to sing to them,
"I don't wanna close my eyes
I don't wanna fall asleep
'Cause I'd miss you, babe
And I don't wanna miss a thing
'Cause even when I dream of you
The sweetest dream will never do
I'd still miss you, babe
And I don't wanna miss a thing"
Layla, who was right beside me, I turned to her and said, "Layla,
Lying close to you
Feeling your heart beating
And I'm wondering what you're dreaming
Wondering if it's me you're seeing
Then I kiss your eyes and thank God we're together
And I just wanna stay with you
In this moment forever, forever and ever
Then I turned my head so my gaze could encompass all three and said, "Jory, Rowan, and Layla,
I don't wanna close my eyes
I don't wanna fall asleep
'Cause I'd miss you, babe
And I don't wanna miss a thing
'Cause even when I dream of you
The sweetest dream will never do
I'd still miss you, babe
And I don't wanna miss a thing
"Jory,
I don't wanna miss one smile
I don't wanna miss one kiss
Well, I just wanna be with you
Right here with you, just like this
I just wanna hold you close
Feel your heart so close to mine
And stay here in this moment
For all the rest of time
"Rowan,
Don't wanna close my eyes
Don't wanna fall asleep
'Cause I'd miss you, babe
And I don't wanna miss a thing
'Cause even when I dream of you
The sweetest dream will never do
'Cause I'd still miss you, babe
And I don't wanna miss a thing
"Layla,
I don't wanna close my eyes
I don't wanna fall asleep
'Cause I'd miss you, babe
And I don't wanna miss a thing
'Cause even when I dream of you
The sweetest dream will never do
I'd still miss you, babe
And I don't wanna miss a thing
"Guys,
Don't wanna close my eyes
Don't wanna fall asleep, yeah
I don't wanna miss a thing
The kids smiled at the end of the song, then Jory got into my lap, drove us up the driveway, and safely home. I'm madly in love with these rugrats!
Friday, May 13, 2011
My baby is a,,,,
Rock Star! Layla is a rock star!
Several weeks ago, Layla asked if she could go to Cubbies with Rowan. I didn’t think she was old enough for a school-like environment, but she insisted she wanted to go with her big sister. So I decided to let her go and I told one of the leaders that I would be in Sparks helping out, just in case Layla decided Cubbies wasn’t for her.
There were no calls on my cell. No one came down to Cubbies. Layla had done it. My baby made it through Cubbies all by herself. My baby truly is growing up, I thought. So each week after that I’ve been letting her go.
A few days after Easter, I said something to her and she started reciting her Easter speech and then to my surprise she recited Rowan’s too. She knew Rowan’s speech? And got it right? Was I underestimating my baby’s abilities because I still saw her as a baby? I didn’t dwell on that question long, but thought maybe she could learn the verses she needed to say in order to graduate to the Cubbies book. I figured a verse a week would get us to the point where she could say all three verses right as Cubbies was ending for the year.
After dropping off the older two, Layla and I practiced her verses.
“I John- -“ I began.
“I John 4:10. Godlovedus and sentHisSon.” (In English, God loved us, and sent His Son.)
“Good job, Baby!” I was impressed. “Romans 3:23, all- -“
“All have sinned.” (Or rather it was a word that sort of sounded like sin.) “Rom 3:23.” (Or something that sounded like 23.)
“Way to go, Baby! Romans 5:8.” This time I decided to let her start by herself.
“While we- - were sinners- - while we- - were sinners- - “
I taught her the verse two words at a time and that’s exactly how she repeated it back. I noticed she seemed to be stuck on the first line. “While we were sinners, Christ- -“ I said.
“Christ died- - for us!” she shouted.
“Baby, you’re a rock star!” I told her and then turned in the car to give her a high five.
My baby is a rock star! Though I think I’m going to have to go to Cubbies to make sure they understand what she’s saying or translate as needed. I’m the mother of a rock star! Three actually.
Several weeks ago, Layla asked if she could go to Cubbies with Rowan. I didn’t think she was old enough for a school-like environment, but she insisted she wanted to go with her big sister. So I decided to let her go and I told one of the leaders that I would be in Sparks helping out, just in case Layla decided Cubbies wasn’t for her.
There were no calls on my cell. No one came down to Cubbies. Layla had done it. My baby made it through Cubbies all by herself. My baby truly is growing up, I thought. So each week after that I’ve been letting her go.
A few days after Easter, I said something to her and she started reciting her Easter speech and then to my surprise she recited Rowan’s too. She knew Rowan’s speech? And got it right? Was I underestimating my baby’s abilities because I still saw her as a baby? I didn’t dwell on that question long, but thought maybe she could learn the verses she needed to say in order to graduate to the Cubbies book. I figured a verse a week would get us to the point where she could say all three verses right as Cubbies was ending for the year.
After dropping off the older two, Layla and I practiced her verses.
“I John- -“ I began.
“I John 4:10. Godlovedus and sentHisSon.” (In English, God loved us, and sent His Son.)
“Good job, Baby!” I was impressed. “Romans 3:23, all- -“
“All have sinned.” (Or rather it was a word that sort of sounded like sin.) “Rom 3:23.” (Or something that sounded like 23.)
“Way to go, Baby! Romans 5:8.” This time I decided to let her start by herself.
“While we- - were sinners- - while we- - were sinners- - “
I taught her the verse two words at a time and that’s exactly how she repeated it back. I noticed she seemed to be stuck on the first line. “While we were sinners, Christ- -“ I said.
“Christ died- - for us!” she shouted.
“Baby, you’re a rock star!” I told her and then turned in the car to give her a high five.
My baby is a rock star! Though I think I’m going to have to go to Cubbies to make sure they understand what she’s saying or translate as needed. I’m the mother of a rock star! Three actually.
She did it!
The baby told me she wanted to sleep in Rowan's room. I tried to talk her out of it.
"Baby, you never sleep the whole night. You wake up crying."
"I not going to cry anymore, Mommy," she insisted.
"Baby?"
She shook her head vehemently. "I not going to cry anymore."
"Okay."
She and Rowan jumped for joy.
Bedtime came, I put them to sleep and left out the room- - suspicious.
Around 5AM, I heard a piercing cry. Baby's up. She was calling for me. Looking for me. I laid in bed wondering if I should let her come to me or if I should go get her. A few minutes later, I heard silence. My baby is growing up, she let Oma comfort her. Usually even Oma can't hold her when she wakes up without me.
So for the first time ever, my baby slept a whole night without me.
And I'm getting older too
"Baby, you never sleep the whole night. You wake up crying."
"I not going to cry anymore, Mommy," she insisted.
"Baby?"
She shook her head vehemently. "I not going to cry anymore."
"Okay."
She and Rowan jumped for joy.
Bedtime came, I put them to sleep and left out the room- - suspicious.
Around 5AM, I heard a piercing cry. Baby's up. She was calling for me. Looking for me. I laid in bed wondering if I should let her come to me or if I should go get her. A few minutes later, I heard silence. My baby is growing up, she let Oma comfort her. Usually even Oma can't hold her when she wakes up without me.
So for the first time ever, my baby slept a whole night without me.
And I'm getting older too
Thursday, May 12, 2011
I think my new favorite
phrase is going to be, "Did I sign up for this?"
Jory shouts, "Mommy! Mommy! Come here! Come look at this! I tried, but I didn't make it to the bathroom on time."
I reluctantly left the dining room, slowly journeyed through the kitchen, the family room, and it hit me as I stepped into the hallway. A trail of his red dessert went down the hall into the bathroom, on the side of the toilet, and finally in the toilet.
Is he excited because he threw up on the floor? Seriously?! Six-year-old boys are such interesting little creatures.
I looked in amazement then asked myself the now familiar saying, "Did I sign up for this?" And wondered, why didn't anyone tell me about this side of things? I took a deep breath and started cleaning, making sure the girls stayed out of the hallway. As I got my rag to clean- -
"Mommy! Mommy! Come here! I threw up again."
I took wide steps over the red dessert and followed the voice to the other bathroom and there it was on the carpet right before the doorway to the bathroom. What joy, what bliss!
I took a deep breath, stepped away from the mess, and went back to the other bathroom to start my clean-up.
Man, this kid better be glad I'm madly in love with him.
Jory shouts, "Mommy! Mommy! Come here! Come look at this! I tried, but I didn't make it to the bathroom on time."
I reluctantly left the dining room, slowly journeyed through the kitchen, the family room, and it hit me as I stepped into the hallway. A trail of his red dessert went down the hall into the bathroom, on the side of the toilet, and finally in the toilet.
Is he excited because he threw up on the floor? Seriously?! Six-year-old boys are such interesting little creatures.
I looked in amazement then asked myself the now familiar saying, "Did I sign up for this?" And wondered, why didn't anyone tell me about this side of things? I took a deep breath and started cleaning, making sure the girls stayed out of the hallway. As I got my rag to clean- -
"Mommy! Mommy! Come here! I threw up again."
I took wide steps over the red dessert and followed the voice to the other bathroom and there it was on the carpet right before the doorway to the bathroom. What joy, what bliss!
I took a deep breath, stepped away from the mess, and went back to the other bathroom to start my clean-up.
Man, this kid better be glad I'm madly in love with him.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
My baby is a big girl
This morning I told Layla to take off her pjs and put on her underwear and t-shirt. When I came back in the room, she hadn't done this.
"Layla, what are you doing? Are you playing with Jory over there?" I questioned as she and her brother were on the opposite side of the bed.
"I get my pants," she answered.
"Okay."
A minute later, she walked up to me with a shirt and a pair of jeans in hand. I left her to her own devices and went to brush my teeth. When I returned to the room, my baby was dressed. My baby dressed herself! All by herself!! I didn't check to see if her t-shirt or her panties were on the right way. She knows the tag goes in the back, even when she doesn't do it.
My baby then put her socks on and her shoes by herself. What's going on here? My baby has turned into a big girl. I'm in awe. Did I mention what she was wearing actually matched? But then again, everything matches when you wear blue jeans. But still, my little pequena dressed herself.
"Layla, what are you doing? Are you playing with Jory over there?" I questioned as she and her brother were on the opposite side of the bed.
"I get my pants," she answered.
"Okay."
A minute later, she walked up to me with a shirt and a pair of jeans in hand. I left her to her own devices and went to brush my teeth. When I returned to the room, my baby was dressed. My baby dressed herself! All by herself!! I didn't check to see if her t-shirt or her panties were on the right way. She knows the tag goes in the back, even when she doesn't do it.
My baby then put her socks on and her shoes by herself. What's going on here? My baby has turned into a big girl. I'm in awe. Did I mention what she was wearing actually matched? But then again, everything matches when you wear blue jeans. But still, my little pequena dressed herself.
My new saying...
should be, "Did I sign up for this?" As my kids get older I ask that question more and more.
I sent Jory to take a shower while I finished cleaning the kitchen. As I was cleaning, I heard Jory shout out- -
“Mommy! Come here! Come look! I didn’t make it to the toilet,” he exclaimed.
I walked out of the kitchen, through the family room, into the hallway, where it hit me. There on the floor was Jory’s red dessert. I followed the red dessert down the hallway into the bathroom, on the rug, side of the toilet, and finally in the toilet. Yes, my son tried to make it to the toilet but didn’t quite succeed. But why was he shouting with excitement? Was it fun to see your vomit on the floor? Six-year-old boys can be quite the interesting creatures.
I took it all in and decided to start at the toilet and work my out to the hallway. I got my rag, got on my knees ready to work until- -
“Mommy! Come here!” Jory shouted again.
Oh joy. I took wide steps over his vomit, told the girls to stay in the living room, and continued my walk to the shouting voice. As I was about to step into the bathroom, there it was on the threshold of the entryway into the bathroom. More red dessert. Did I sign up for this?
I started the shower for Jory and got him in and bathing, while I went to tackle the other bathroom and hallway first. Why didn’t anyone inform me about these joys of motherhood? Why must mothers lie and withhold the truth from the newbie moms?
I sent Jory to take a shower while I finished cleaning the kitchen. As I was cleaning, I heard Jory shout out- -
“Mommy! Come here! Come look! I didn’t make it to the toilet,” he exclaimed.
I walked out of the kitchen, through the family room, into the hallway, where it hit me. There on the floor was Jory’s red dessert. I followed the red dessert down the hallway into the bathroom, on the rug, side of the toilet, and finally in the toilet. Yes, my son tried to make it to the toilet but didn’t quite succeed. But why was he shouting with excitement? Was it fun to see your vomit on the floor? Six-year-old boys can be quite the interesting creatures.
I took it all in and decided to start at the toilet and work my out to the hallway. I got my rag, got on my knees ready to work until- -
“Mommy! Come here!” Jory shouted again.
Oh joy. I took wide steps over his vomit, told the girls to stay in the living room, and continued my walk to the shouting voice. As I was about to step into the bathroom, there it was on the threshold of the entryway into the bathroom. More red dessert. Did I sign up for this?
I started the shower for Jory and got him in and bathing, while I went to tackle the other bathroom and hallway first. Why didn’t anyone inform me about these joys of motherhood? Why must mothers lie and withhold the truth from the newbie moms?
Happy Mother's Day
It started off strangely. I woke up feeling refreshed. My neck didn't hurt. I felt like I slept on the right pillow and comfortably. I opened my eyes and saw that only Jory was in the bed with me. Happy Mother's Day, Yash! A nice rejuvenating sleep is the way to start the day.
Where do I go from here? Do I start when I called Mijo asking him what he wanted to buy his mother for Mother's Day a few days before? (I got a late start. Easter coming so late in the year completely threw me off.) I was ready for him to say perfume, a dress, some crap from Bath & Body Works, instead he hit me with "I want to take mom to Red Lobster for lunch." Okay, now I needed to find a Red Lobster and send him a gift card. Now he tells me this with Jory hacking like a banshee in my ear. Next year, Mijo will be 13 and will have to be a bit more proactive in the planning of Mona's Mother's Day gift. I can't get to Red Lobster, can't remember which store sells gift cards for restaurants and stuff so I figure I'll call the restaurant have them charge the meal on my credit card. I told this to Mijo and he informed me that he wanted to pay for the meal too with the money he won in a contest. I love this kid. I told him, I'd cover his mom's meal, since he told me she wanted lobster for lunch, and he could pay for his, his brother's, and his sister's meals.
We also had a discussion about being responsible with carrying around a fifty dollar bill in his wallet before the Mother's Day lunch. The he informed me, he wanted to get her a cake from Maggie Moo's.
After a horrific time on Maggie Moo's website where every cake offered had some type of chocolate in it and Mijo gets headaches from chocolate, I called the store and things turned around. The person at the store told me you could order any kind of cake, but you usually had to call the store to do that. Uh, shouldn't that be on your website? I ordered the simplest cake that the whole family could enjoy, after some input from Mona who overheard some of Mijo's plans, set a time for Mijo to pick it up under his name and I was done. Yippee!!
Sunday morning, I called Red Lobster to make sure everything was okay and I was told they couldn't take my credit card number over the phone due to credit card fraud. Are you kidding me?! Are you telling me this when my nephew is a few hours from arriving at the restaurant? I explained the situation to the waiter. I'm in LA, my nephew is 12. He talked to his manager, got back on the line, and told me I'd have to fax a copy of my Drivers License and credit card to him. Okay this was fine, but where was I suppose to find a place where I can make a copy and fax at 10AM on Sunday, on a Sunday that was Mother's Day. Does he know church starts at 11? I said okay.
Thankfully I had already found similar pink dresses for the girls to put on and something for Jory to wear that I didn't have to iron. I quickly got them dressed, did their hair, even though I could tell Oma was not feeling Rowan's hairstyle. I threw on my sweaterdress (thank you God for creating the person who created them) and ran out the door to Thrifty's. I knew I could make a photocopy there.
I made my copies, then I saw the manager. I asked him if he knew a place where I could fax my one page photocopy. He walked me outside the store and showed me the stores which sent faxes, but being 10:30AM on a Sunday they of course weren't opened. We walked back in the store and he said, I'll fax it. Thank you God! I prayed it would go through with no complications and my prayers were answered. I gave him the seventy-five cents for my copies, thanked him, and quickly called Red Lobster to make sure they received the fax and everything was okay. And it was. SCORE! I called Mijo and told him all systems go, ask for Jeff, then I drove home to pick up Oma and the kids.
We were slightly late for church which meant we had to separate in order to find seating. Rowan made a bee line for Happy while Baby and Jory squeezed into a pew in the front with me. Service was good, then they broke in with a Mother's Day tribute. Every woman with a mom there, stood up and said what she loved about her mother. One of Happy's daughter ended her speech by saying that she heard other kids say when they were teens they wished they had another mother, but she and her sisters never did.
So when it was my turn, I said, I wish I did have a different mother. One named Oprah. I made the analogy that my mom is like a piece of hard chocolate candy. She can seem stand-offish, not friendly, but if you break through you'll get to the gooey carmel middle. You get passed my mom's shell and she's lovable. I said, she stood her ground and you never had to wonder where you stood with her. I got a few Amens off of that one. And I praised and thanked her for being such a rock star when she found herself surrounded by three grandkids and how great a grandmother she is.
Side note, I loved my Grandma, she rocked my world. But I only saw once every two years or so and I am so glad TTT will know their grandma intimately, in ways I never knew mine. Their relationship with their Oma will be completely different than mine was with my Grandma because their grandma is just down the hallway from them.
At the very end of the speeches, my mom asked if she could speak. She talked about what a great, wait this is my mom we're talking about, what a good mother I was and how I have this open heart and she could have never done what I did. To which I said, amen. She then went on to say, she never could have taken in other people's children.
Really mother?!?! Not shocked or surprised, but I am amazed and how her brain and her heart don't speak. She loves her grandchildren like there's no tomorrow, yet her "I don't support adoption" brain can't gel these two worlds together. I made a note to myself to talk to her language after church and I was grateful that Jory was sleep and the girls weren't paying attention to their Oma's speech.
Then it was time for the kids to sing, Jory woke up but his heart just wasn't into it. So their performance of DC Talk's version of In the Light was soft and sort of lack luster. But they did get 99% of the words right. Yippee! And I enjoyed their singing and videotaped it.
Jory went back to sleep as the minister began and the two girls started acting fussy. The baby wasn't happy Jory was in my lap until she noticed something on the wall behind us and started trying to bother it. We were in a tight space, but when I noticed my cousin felt the best way to sit in church was with his legs spread I didn't feel the need to apologize for Layla's heel digging into him as she kept trying to move about. Rowan kept complaining about Jory being on her. Then she and the baby both said they had to go to the bathroom. Are you serious? Both of you?
I looked to my left, then to my right, there was no one near by who could hold Jory while I took the kids to the bathroom. I sent Layla to her Oma so she would take her, but it seemed like Oma sent her back to the front of the church, so my aunt kindly took the girls to the bathroom. Then ten minutes later, they had to go again. Really?!?
I really wanted to hear what the pastor was saying, but it wasn't happening and I was started to feel frustrated. Then it came to me, this wasn't my season. This wasn't my season to hear every word Pastors say. I've got little kids who need to be taken to the bathroom, who get fussy in church, complain about not having enough space, who need to be held on occassion, and all too soon this season will pass. All too soon, the Irish twins won't need me to take them to the bathroom. All too soon, I won't be able to hold my ailing baby boy in my lap and gently rock him. This is our season. So I went with that and changed my attitude.
The sermon concluded and now Layla was asleep on the side of me. Two sleeping babies and Oma was the first person out of the church. Luckily, John, Happy's husband, was near and picked up Jory and my aunt picked up Layla, while I hustled to the car to bring it around to the front of the church so they could continue to sleep. As I was going to my minivan, Mona's words were proven true when I heard my cousin say, we're going to a buffet in Norwalk. Norwalk?!?!? I heard we lived in Los Angeles. A place that has tons of restaurants so why are we driving to the edge of the universe to eat at a buffet on a Sunday, when every other church in the city is out, and on Mother's Day?
John and my aunt put the kids in the car with Rowan lagging behind. Thirty minutes later, we were in a caravan heading to Norwalk. As we pulled into the parking lot, there were lines of people standing in a line outside of the restaurants. This was not going to be good.
My cousin rushed me inside to order since his girlfriend was already inside. I discovered inside, where people were packed tighter than a can of sardines, that first you had to pay for your meal, then you got a number to wait for your number to be called. I ordered, saw the total, and said, "Oh, I"m not eating." Come on, woman, I'm on the detox cleansening regiment and if a hot, cheese oozing burger from McD's with the smell of their french fries enticing me didn't break me, your restaurant sure won't. She informed me I wouldn't be allowed inside to the eating area if I didn't pay. I love my mother, but I'm not paying $15to watch other people eat and drink water. I paid for my mom and Rowan and left.
When my mom heard it was going to be at least an hour wait, she wanted to leave. But I didn't want her to leave. I know she says it doesn't matter, but I like her spending Mother's Day and other holidays with her sisters. She's very blessed that they live so close. I would love to spend a Mother's Day with Mona and not just hear about her day over phone lines.
I did suggest to my cousins that we go to the Italian restaurant catty corner from the buffet place. The Italian restaurant was also having a buffet, for a cheaper price, and there were no long lines over there. Plus everyone loved pizza and pasta. They laughed. I think they thought I was joking. I was dead serious.
Jory woke up and so he, the Baby, and I walked to the donut shop to get snacks to tied them over. Seven dollars later. Rip off! Everyone had chips and a drink to share. We waited, waited, and waited. I got in the car and found the books Oma informed me were in the car. Read a little, then thought if I can't go in the restaurant, Jory's too sick to eat, why am I sitting here? I told my mom we were leaving but since my aunt had room for two in her car, I gave her a carseat and told Rowan to hop out the car, which caused the other two to cry. I told Jory and Layla they could go to McD's, which softened the cries. Lucky for me it was next door so with cheeseburgers in hand, they quickly quieted and ate.
Minutes after getting home, Jory barfed his burger on the ground. Please God, please let this be a 24 hour thing. I was glad that Jory was in good spirit and wasn't channeling his grandpa ie "I'm sick and dying" per usual. Nothing ends a Mother's Day like cleaning up your son's vomit.
And when Oma came home a few hours later and said that the food was horrible, I was very glad I was doing my cleanse and got to skip out on the meal. Well, my mom is never a fan of any restaurant, but if my uncle who will eat anywhere and anything says it's bad, then it's bad. For the first time in a while, I let the kids entertain themselves while my mom and I talked. We've come a long way, once upon a time there was just the two of us and now it's just the five of us.
The perfect way to end the day, a blessed way to end the day, talking to my mommy, while my kids could be heard in the distance. I am truly a blessed woman.
Where do I go from here? Do I start when I called Mijo asking him what he wanted to buy his mother for Mother's Day a few days before? (I got a late start. Easter coming so late in the year completely threw me off.) I was ready for him to say perfume, a dress, some crap from Bath & Body Works, instead he hit me with "I want to take mom to Red Lobster for lunch." Okay, now I needed to find a Red Lobster and send him a gift card. Now he tells me this with Jory hacking like a banshee in my ear. Next year, Mijo will be 13 and will have to be a bit more proactive in the planning of Mona's Mother's Day gift. I can't get to Red Lobster, can't remember which store sells gift cards for restaurants and stuff so I figure I'll call the restaurant have them charge the meal on my credit card. I told this to Mijo and he informed me that he wanted to pay for the meal too with the money he won in a contest. I love this kid. I told him, I'd cover his mom's meal, since he told me she wanted lobster for lunch, and he could pay for his, his brother's, and his sister's meals.
We also had a discussion about being responsible with carrying around a fifty dollar bill in his wallet before the Mother's Day lunch. The he informed me, he wanted to get her a cake from Maggie Moo's.
After a horrific time on Maggie Moo's website where every cake offered had some type of chocolate in it and Mijo gets headaches from chocolate, I called the store and things turned around. The person at the store told me you could order any kind of cake, but you usually had to call the store to do that. Uh, shouldn't that be on your website? I ordered the simplest cake that the whole family could enjoy, after some input from Mona who overheard some of Mijo's plans, set a time for Mijo to pick it up under his name and I was done. Yippee!!
Sunday morning, I called Red Lobster to make sure everything was okay and I was told they couldn't take my credit card number over the phone due to credit card fraud. Are you kidding me?! Are you telling me this when my nephew is a few hours from arriving at the restaurant? I explained the situation to the waiter. I'm in LA, my nephew is 12. He talked to his manager, got back on the line, and told me I'd have to fax a copy of my Drivers License and credit card to him. Okay this was fine, but where was I suppose to find a place where I can make a copy and fax at 10AM on Sunday, on a Sunday that was Mother's Day. Does he know church starts at 11? I said okay.
Thankfully I had already found similar pink dresses for the girls to put on and something for Jory to wear that I didn't have to iron. I quickly got them dressed, did their hair, even though I could tell Oma was not feeling Rowan's hairstyle. I threw on my sweaterdress (thank you God for creating the person who created them) and ran out the door to Thrifty's. I knew I could make a photocopy there.
I made my copies, then I saw the manager. I asked him if he knew a place where I could fax my one page photocopy. He walked me outside the store and showed me the stores which sent faxes, but being 10:30AM on a Sunday they of course weren't opened. We walked back in the store and he said, I'll fax it. Thank you God! I prayed it would go through with no complications and my prayers were answered. I gave him the seventy-five cents for my copies, thanked him, and quickly called Red Lobster to make sure they received the fax and everything was okay. And it was. SCORE! I called Mijo and told him all systems go, ask for Jeff, then I drove home to pick up Oma and the kids.
We were slightly late for church which meant we had to separate in order to find seating. Rowan made a bee line for Happy while Baby and Jory squeezed into a pew in the front with me. Service was good, then they broke in with a Mother's Day tribute. Every woman with a mom there, stood up and said what she loved about her mother. One of Happy's daughter ended her speech by saying that she heard other kids say when they were teens they wished they had another mother, but she and her sisters never did.
So when it was my turn, I said, I wish I did have a different mother. One named Oprah. I made the analogy that my mom is like a piece of hard chocolate candy. She can seem stand-offish, not friendly, but if you break through you'll get to the gooey carmel middle. You get passed my mom's shell and she's lovable. I said, she stood her ground and you never had to wonder where you stood with her. I got a few Amens off of that one. And I praised and thanked her for being such a rock star when she found herself surrounded by three grandkids and how great a grandmother she is.
Side note, I loved my Grandma, she rocked my world. But I only saw once every two years or so and I am so glad TTT will know their grandma intimately, in ways I never knew mine. Their relationship with their Oma will be completely different than mine was with my Grandma because their grandma is just down the hallway from them.
At the very end of the speeches, my mom asked if she could speak. She talked about what a great, wait this is my mom we're talking about, what a good mother I was and how I have this open heart and she could have never done what I did. To which I said, amen. She then went on to say, she never could have taken in other people's children.
Really mother?!?! Not shocked or surprised, but I am amazed and how her brain and her heart don't speak. She loves her grandchildren like there's no tomorrow, yet her "I don't support adoption" brain can't gel these two worlds together. I made a note to myself to talk to her language after church and I was grateful that Jory was sleep and the girls weren't paying attention to their Oma's speech.
Then it was time for the kids to sing, Jory woke up but his heart just wasn't into it. So their performance of DC Talk's version of In the Light was soft and sort of lack luster. But they did get 99% of the words right. Yippee! And I enjoyed their singing and videotaped it.
Jory went back to sleep as the minister began and the two girls started acting fussy. The baby wasn't happy Jory was in my lap until she noticed something on the wall behind us and started trying to bother it. We were in a tight space, but when I noticed my cousin felt the best way to sit in church was with his legs spread I didn't feel the need to apologize for Layla's heel digging into him as she kept trying to move about. Rowan kept complaining about Jory being on her. Then she and the baby both said they had to go to the bathroom. Are you serious? Both of you?
I looked to my left, then to my right, there was no one near by who could hold Jory while I took the kids to the bathroom. I sent Layla to her Oma so she would take her, but it seemed like Oma sent her back to the front of the church, so my aunt kindly took the girls to the bathroom. Then ten minutes later, they had to go again. Really?!?
I really wanted to hear what the pastor was saying, but it wasn't happening and I was started to feel frustrated. Then it came to me, this wasn't my season. This wasn't my season to hear every word Pastors say. I've got little kids who need to be taken to the bathroom, who get fussy in church, complain about not having enough space, who need to be held on occassion, and all too soon this season will pass. All too soon, the Irish twins won't need me to take them to the bathroom. All too soon, I won't be able to hold my ailing baby boy in my lap and gently rock him. This is our season. So I went with that and changed my attitude.
The sermon concluded and now Layla was asleep on the side of me. Two sleeping babies and Oma was the first person out of the church. Luckily, John, Happy's husband, was near and picked up Jory and my aunt picked up Layla, while I hustled to the car to bring it around to the front of the church so they could continue to sleep. As I was going to my minivan, Mona's words were proven true when I heard my cousin say, we're going to a buffet in Norwalk. Norwalk?!?!? I heard we lived in Los Angeles. A place that has tons of restaurants so why are we driving to the edge of the universe to eat at a buffet on a Sunday, when every other church in the city is out, and on Mother's Day?
John and my aunt put the kids in the car with Rowan lagging behind. Thirty minutes later, we were in a caravan heading to Norwalk. As we pulled into the parking lot, there were lines of people standing in a line outside of the restaurants. This was not going to be good.
My cousin rushed me inside to order since his girlfriend was already inside. I discovered inside, where people were packed tighter than a can of sardines, that first you had to pay for your meal, then you got a number to wait for your number to be called. I ordered, saw the total, and said, "Oh, I"m not eating." Come on, woman, I'm on the detox cleansening regiment and if a hot, cheese oozing burger from McD's with the smell of their french fries enticing me didn't break me, your restaurant sure won't. She informed me I wouldn't be allowed inside to the eating area if I didn't pay. I love my mother, but I'm not paying $15to watch other people eat and drink water. I paid for my mom and Rowan and left.
When my mom heard it was going to be at least an hour wait, she wanted to leave. But I didn't want her to leave. I know she says it doesn't matter, but I like her spending Mother's Day and other holidays with her sisters. She's very blessed that they live so close. I would love to spend a Mother's Day with Mona and not just hear about her day over phone lines.
I did suggest to my cousins that we go to the Italian restaurant catty corner from the buffet place. The Italian restaurant was also having a buffet, for a cheaper price, and there were no long lines over there. Plus everyone loved pizza and pasta. They laughed. I think they thought I was joking. I was dead serious.
Jory woke up and so he, the Baby, and I walked to the donut shop to get snacks to tied them over. Seven dollars later. Rip off! Everyone had chips and a drink to share. We waited, waited, and waited. I got in the car and found the books Oma informed me were in the car. Read a little, then thought if I can't go in the restaurant, Jory's too sick to eat, why am I sitting here? I told my mom we were leaving but since my aunt had room for two in her car, I gave her a carseat and told Rowan to hop out the car, which caused the other two to cry. I told Jory and Layla they could go to McD's, which softened the cries. Lucky for me it was next door so with cheeseburgers in hand, they quickly quieted and ate.
Minutes after getting home, Jory barfed his burger on the ground. Please God, please let this be a 24 hour thing. I was glad that Jory was in good spirit and wasn't channeling his grandpa ie "I'm sick and dying" per usual. Nothing ends a Mother's Day like cleaning up your son's vomit.
And when Oma came home a few hours later and said that the food was horrible, I was very glad I was doing my cleanse and got to skip out on the meal. Well, my mom is never a fan of any restaurant, but if my uncle who will eat anywhere and anything says it's bad, then it's bad. For the first time in a while, I let the kids entertain themselves while my mom and I talked. We've come a long way, once upon a time there was just the two of us and now it's just the five of us.
The perfect way to end the day, a blessed way to end the day, talking to my mommy, while my kids could be heard in the distance. I am truly a blessed woman.
Rowan's Thursdays
Every Thursday, Rowan goes to a speech class. She has a language issue that I can’t think of the name of right now, but basically instead of making two constant sounds in certain words, she makes one. Most kids take the first syllable of a word and move it to the back of the word. For example, the majority of children will say, “Doddy,” instead of “Doggy.” My kid, who doesn’t like following the crowd, does the reverse. She says “Goggy,” instead of “Doggy.” Her speech assessor found this interesting.
Every Thursday, my mom graciously takes her. My mom describes Rowan’s behavior as this. She sits there, sucks her thumb, twirls her hair, doesn’t speak; then when it’s time for snacks, she jumps up and tries to get to the front of the line. Ahh, that is the perfection description of my oldest daughter. Doesn’t know you or playing shy, she says nothing, but you mention or show food and she’s your BFF. I love that kid. She cracks me up.
Every Thursday, my mom graciously takes her. My mom describes Rowan’s behavior as this. She sits there, sucks her thumb, twirls her hair, doesn’t speak; then when it’s time for snacks, she jumps up and tries to get to the front of the line. Ahh, that is the perfection description of my oldest daughter. Doesn’t know you or playing shy, she says nothing, but you mention or show food and she’s your BFF. I love that kid. She cracks me up.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
I'm so blessed
I woke up this morning with a headache, a sore neck and back, and slightly cold. The terrific threesome destroyed the bed the night before and Jory tried to repair it. Yeah, that skill needs some work. On each side of me are my babies, my oldest and my youngest, and both abhorring blankets. And since I’m in the middle I’m pretty much blankletless since they both have pushed and kicked the blankets down.
My neck and back were hurting because I was sandwiched between the two of them, laying at an awkward angle to compensate for their horrible sleeping positions. And on top of that, I fell asleep on my reading pillow and not my sleeping pillow. UGH! I hate when that happens. I’m very much a princess in the pea when it comes to pillows. But I won’t get started on that.
So with all that going on, I looked to my right and there lay my beautiful baby boy. I kissed the top of his forehead, kissed his left cheek, kissed his sweet little lips. Looking at him, I remembered the baby who would lie on my chest and eat while we watched Conan together at one in the morning. He was no longer that tiny baby anymore. He is a big boy, but he will always be my baby. My first. And I love him endlessly.
I turned to my left and watched my youngest baby sleep. Taking in the scratches on her face created by her too long fingernails, I marveled at how in her wonderfully made compact body lies one busy little girl who gets into things, more than her siblings ever did or do. I kissed her cheeks and her sweet little lips and pondered when it all changed. When my baby went from being more angelic in her sleep than during the waking hours.
I pulled up the comforter and electric blanket and snuggled down completely in awe I am to be lying in-between two such wonderful creatures.
My neck and back were hurting because I was sandwiched between the two of them, laying at an awkward angle to compensate for their horrible sleeping positions. And on top of that, I fell asleep on my reading pillow and not my sleeping pillow. UGH! I hate when that happens. I’m very much a princess in the pea when it comes to pillows. But I won’t get started on that.
So with all that going on, I looked to my right and there lay my beautiful baby boy. I kissed the top of his forehead, kissed his left cheek, kissed his sweet little lips. Looking at him, I remembered the baby who would lie on my chest and eat while we watched Conan together at one in the morning. He was no longer that tiny baby anymore. He is a big boy, but he will always be my baby. My first. And I love him endlessly.
I turned to my left and watched my youngest baby sleep. Taking in the scratches on her face created by her too long fingernails, I marveled at how in her wonderfully made compact body lies one busy little girl who gets into things, more than her siblings ever did or do. I kissed her cheeks and her sweet little lips and pondered when it all changed. When my baby went from being more angelic in her sleep than during the waking hours.
I pulled up the comforter and electric blanket and snuggled down completely in awe I am to be lying in-between two such wonderful creatures.
Grandpa
When we drive to our adoption support group, we pass the Inglewood Cemetery where my dad is buried. As we drive pass, I always say, "Kids say, hi to grandpa!" And they do. But this particularly Saturday, questions arose after they said, hi.
“Where is Grandpa?” Rowan asked.
“He’s in the cemetery,” I answered.
“That’s where dead people live,” Jory added.
Uh, you don’t really live in a cemetery, but I thought I would let it go. “That’s just where his body is. Where is Grandpa’s soul?”
“In Heaven with God,” Rowan and Jory replied.
I love these kids. “That’s right.”
“Grandpa is in the cemetery?” Jory questioned.
“Yes.”
“Uncle Bobby is in the cemetery?” he asked confused.
“No, Uncle Bobby isn’t in the cemetery.” Where did that come from I wondered?
“Aunt Lavonia’s- -“ he continued.
“No, baby. Uncle Bobby isn’t in the cemetery.” I thought on his line of questioning and it dawned on me the person he hears referred to as grandpa is Uncle Bobby. So he was associating the word “grandpa” solely with Uncle Bobby. “No, grandpa is the word you call your parent’s father, just like you call Oma, Oma. We were saying hi, to Mommy’s daddy,” I said, hoping my explanation cleared things up.
“Your daddy?” he questioned, not quite buying my answer.
“Yes, Mommy’s daddy. Just like Oma is my mommy.”
Silence.
I guess the subject was closed and I wasn’t quite sure he fully understood what I was saying. I decided not to press the issue. Maybe next time, I could explain it clearer as my son negotiated the tangled world of family relationships.
“Where is Grandpa?” Rowan asked.
“He’s in the cemetery,” I answered.
“That’s where dead people live,” Jory added.
Uh, you don’t really live in a cemetery, but I thought I would let it go. “That’s just where his body is. Where is Grandpa’s soul?”
“In Heaven with God,” Rowan and Jory replied.
I love these kids. “That’s right.”
“Grandpa is in the cemetery?” Jory questioned.
“Yes.”
“Uncle Bobby is in the cemetery?” he asked confused.
“No, Uncle Bobby isn’t in the cemetery.” Where did that come from I wondered?
“Aunt Lavonia’s- -“ he continued.
“No, baby. Uncle Bobby isn’t in the cemetery.” I thought on his line of questioning and it dawned on me the person he hears referred to as grandpa is Uncle Bobby. So he was associating the word “grandpa” solely with Uncle Bobby. “No, grandpa is the word you call your parent’s father, just like you call Oma, Oma. We were saying hi, to Mommy’s daddy,” I said, hoping my explanation cleared things up.
“Your daddy?” he questioned, not quite buying my answer.
“Yes, Mommy’s daddy. Just like Oma is my mommy.”
Silence.
I guess the subject was closed and I wasn’t quite sure he fully understood what I was saying. I decided not to press the issue. Maybe next time, I could explain it clearer as my son negotiated the tangled world of family relationships.
Happy Two Week Birthday SG!!!
Two weeks ago today on April 17, a beautiful, precious baby girl I call SG or Ava came into the world. We’ll see which nickname sticks. She joined an awesome family with a mommy that kicks butts and takes names.
Her mommy, whom I call Chi, was in the same club as me in college. Our college put all the transfer and frosh students in a group/club to help them acclimate to their brand new college and give them a leg up of at least knowing some people on campus when school officially begins. Chi was in my club and also lived across the hall from me in Park Region B2.
We were friendly, but it was one Friday night which changed everything. She shared with me her grandmother had passed away. My beloved Grandma had died a few years before so I knew what that felt like and I knew I couldn’t leave her alone that night. I invited her to go on our Livedalen run, which was basically going over to the guys’ dorm visiting our friends over there which inevitably ended in watching a movie in someone’s room and eating pizza (the great college pastime) from the wonderful Pizza Patrol. (Man, I miss that place.) She joined us and that was the start of a beautiful relationship.
I remember the first night of college, walking into the gym with hundreds of people, listening to Pastor Carl Lee’s famous “Whobody” speech, and hearing the words, look to your right, to your left, your front, and your back because someone around you will be a friend for life. I never could have guessed that Hot Peppermint Tea Heather and Yum Yum Donuts Yash would be two of those people.
We have shared each other’s ups and downs. Our lives have not turned out the way we imagined, but we are exactly where God wants us to be.
There were times we stumbled
They thought they had us down
We came around
How we rolled and rambled
We got lost and we got find
And now we’re back on solid ground
If we lose our way
Any night or day
Well, we’ll always be
I’m there for you
And I know you’re there for me
As the years go by
You know you’re not alone
In this world of strangers
Oh how the years go by
Oh how the love brings tears to my eyes
All through the changes, the soul never dies
We fight, we laugh, we cry
As the years go by
SG, welcome to the family! We love you! We can’t wait to meet your little cute self in person! Good job, Chi and B. Good job.
Her mommy, whom I call Chi, was in the same club as me in college. Our college put all the transfer and frosh students in a group/club to help them acclimate to their brand new college and give them a leg up of at least knowing some people on campus when school officially begins. Chi was in my club and also lived across the hall from me in Park Region B2.
We were friendly, but it was one Friday night which changed everything. She shared with me her grandmother had passed away. My beloved Grandma had died a few years before so I knew what that felt like and I knew I couldn’t leave her alone that night. I invited her to go on our Livedalen run, which was basically going over to the guys’ dorm visiting our friends over there which inevitably ended in watching a movie in someone’s room and eating pizza (the great college pastime) from the wonderful Pizza Patrol. (Man, I miss that place.) She joined us and that was the start of a beautiful relationship.
I remember the first night of college, walking into the gym with hundreds of people, listening to Pastor Carl Lee’s famous “Whobody” speech, and hearing the words, look to your right, to your left, your front, and your back because someone around you will be a friend for life. I never could have guessed that Hot Peppermint Tea Heather and Yum Yum Donuts Yash would be two of those people.
We have shared each other’s ups and downs. Our lives have not turned out the way we imagined, but we are exactly where God wants us to be.
There were times we stumbled
They thought they had us down
We came around
How we rolled and rambled
We got lost and we got find
And now we’re back on solid ground
If we lose our way
Any night or day
Well, we’ll always be
I’m there for you
And I know you’re there for me
As the years go by
You know you’re not alone
In this world of strangers
Oh how the years go by
Oh how the love brings tears to my eyes
All through the changes, the soul never dies
We fight, we laugh, we cry
As the years go by
SG, welcome to the family! We love you! We can’t wait to meet your little cute self in person! Good job, Chi and B. Good job.
Questions and answers
I'm not quite sure what Jory and I were watching, but obviously it was something that prompted this conversation.
"Mommy, I was in your tummy."
"No, Jory, you were in your birth mother's tummy."
"Oh," he said, then was quiet.
My insides sighed with relief. I don't know why I feel different or tense up when he brings up questions about his adoption. He knows he's adopted, his sisters were adopted, like Moses, like Jesus. So it's not a secret, but still there is something there, not dread or fear, I don't think. Not sure what to call it.
He started talking again and I told him the name of his birth mother.
Then he asked, "Why did she give me to you?"
YIKES! I'd read the books, heard the discussions, read the message boards. I had to be truthful and keep it age appropriate.
"She didn't," I replied.
"Oh," he responded and he was back to watching the program.
Relief again. Truthful, age appropriate answers don't bring about questions the same way lies do. I was honest. His birth mother did not give him to me, the State did but that's a story for another day.
Maybe we should read his adoption storybook for a bedtime story one of these nights. I should probably get on writing one for the girls.
"Mommy, I was in your tummy."
"No, Jory, you were in your birth mother's tummy."
"Oh," he said, then was quiet.
My insides sighed with relief. I don't know why I feel different or tense up when he brings up questions about his adoption. He knows he's adopted, his sisters were adopted, like Moses, like Jesus. So it's not a secret, but still there is something there, not dread or fear, I don't think. Not sure what to call it.
He started talking again and I told him the name of his birth mother.
Then he asked, "Why did she give me to you?"
YIKES! I'd read the books, heard the discussions, read the message boards. I had to be truthful and keep it age appropriate.
"She didn't," I replied.
"Oh," he responded and he was back to watching the program.
Relief again. Truthful, age appropriate answers don't bring about questions the same way lies do. I was honest. His birth mother did not give him to me, the State did but that's a story for another day.
Maybe we should read his adoption storybook for a bedtime story one of these nights. I should probably get on writing one for the girls.
A big day
This morning while waiting for Jory's doctor's appointment, Jory, the baby and I watched the royal wedding on DVR. We watched the pomp and circumstance and it made me think of the other historic events Jory and I have watched together, like the funeral of Pope John Paul II. My baby boy and I sharing these moments together with him now being old enough to ask questions about what's going on. At three months or so, he wasn't asking too many questions about the funeral.
And while we were watching the wedding, I thought about my grandmother. Twenty years since I sat in a room with her as God called her home and she heard, "Well done, my good and faithful one. Well done." I still miss her. Praise God that I will get to spend eternity with her.
And while we were watching the wedding, I thought about my grandmother. Twenty years since I sat in a room with her as God called her home and she heard, "Well done, my good and faithful one. Well done." I still miss her. Praise God that I will get to spend eternity with her.
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