Tag Archives: parenting

How do we date our future children??

Posted on
14

So far, compartmentalizing and minimizing has kept me sane. I tell myself we aren’t going through all the stages of adoption in one big chunk. First we tackle step 1, then 2, then 3, then 4. One decision at a time. This tactic has proven to be an effective method for me to avoid being overcome by thoughts and losing all function and usefulness in society. But, soon we might face the part that I still can’t quite wrap my mind around—the part about meeting and play dates and sleepovers.

Drew says I need to process this one. I need to think this through and prepare for it, even though this could go a number of other ways, like getting a call that a newborn needs a home, or having DFCS bypass the “meet & greet” stage with a kid who’s immediately ready for a new set of parent figures.

So, here we go.

Let’s think about the moment where I hug them and smell the smell of someone else’s house on them. Not their house. Not our house. And then I will know their faces and names and what the color of their eyes are. And they will know my name. And we will talk about school, or toys, or drawings. Or something. Will they be old enough to talk?

Let’s think about the Friday when their caseworker brings them to our house for the weekend. I open my front door to see them and their little backpacks and teddy bears walking slowly up to our house and my heart will leap out of my chest and I’ll blink back the tears like I’m blinking them back right now.

And then there’s bedtimes. And mac and cheese. And chicken nuggets. How many chicken nuggets are too many chicken nuggets? Or should we have hotdogs instead? And what if they just want to watch TV all day? And what if we take them to the playground and they fall down and break something? And what if we want to take them to the zoo? Maybe we shouldn’t take them to the zoo since it’s in another state. Yes, let’s not get arrested for child-abduction.

What if there are diapers involved? When am I going to learn how to change them? And what time is a three-yr-old supposed to go to bed? And what do we do if they cry all night?

Or if I cry all night?

And what do I do when the caseworker comes to pick them up to take them back to that other house? Do I use all my nervous energy to rush to Lowe’s to buy gallons of their favorite colors?

Or do I wait?

I’m beginning to hate that word.

“Piling” is a perfectly acceptable form of organization, no matter what the Social Worker says.

Posted on
22

It’s time that I just come right out and admit that I’m a pile person. And Drew is a pile person. And we get along just fine. And my mom, the mind-reader, knows this about us and gently reminded me that I needed to clean up all the piles before The Social Worker came for our home evaluation because most people don’t consider “piling” to be a legitimate or effective form of domestic organization.

I have no choice but to accept that the world is not ready for Piling, even though these piles have worked for me my entire life.

They are quite helpful when used correctly. For instance, there’s the Adoption Pile on the other side of my dresser (you know, in that place that’s dim and dusty and hidden if someone nosily glances in from our bedroom door). And there’s the To Do Immediately pile that’s got my “Happy Birthday, now go renew your license” postcard from the DDS and also both of our physicals to be added to our inch-high-and-already-turned-in-folder (ding! ding! organized!) of adoption paperwork. Yes, my dear dear Type A readers, please ignore the fact that these two adoption items are not in the Adoption Pile, lest you break out in hives. And, for the sake of argument, we will also ignore the fact that this To Do pile has migrated from coffee table to kitchen to coffee table in the past week or so, without diminishment.

Immediately–ok, I will admit that was a poor choice of word. All better? Even so, this pile is necessary because as soon as I come up for air I’ll get my almost-33-year-old self over to the DDS office and smile pretty for the camera. And this migrating pile (almost typed migraining) helps me remember that The Social Worker is coming and My Birthday Clock is ticking.

Nevertheless, like a good daughter, I did get rid of some piles. Por exemplo, the Flip Flop Pile that usually grows outside our bedroom door. And the Digital Camera With Gear Pile that somehow escaped from the guest room storage and set up residency in front of my dresser.

Confession: By “get rid of” I actually meant “relocate.

And where did these piles relocate?

If you guessed “The Floor of Mandy’s Stumble-In Closet” you are absolutely correct! And possibly a mind-reader.

Speaking of mind-readers, my mom didn’t remind me to clean out my closet.

The moral of the story? I hope I will grow to read the minds know & love my future son and/or daughter as well as my mom loves me.

(Home Eval is scheduled for Thursday. And I’m ready. Sort of.)

Do kids go pee?

Posted on
41

I don’t have particularly bad language, but I should probably remove the word “crap” from my vocabulary altogether. I mean, can you imagine a little Thompson going to hang out at a friend’s house and saying that word. And then their friend says that word. And then their friend’s mom says “where did you hear that word honey?” and the friend says “from Little Drew” and the mom says “isn’t Little Drew’s dad a pastor?”

:shock: crap…

And what if they have to use the bathroom? I don’t anticipate that maternal language of “do you have to go potty?” naturally flitting out of me. It’s gonna sound more like “You gotta pee?”

geeze.

Is that even a decent description of urination? (Note: I refuse to say “Do you have to urinate?” no no no…)

Oh. And geeze? And holy crap, which is a personal favorite? And dangit? And dang? And …. sigh.

These are the questions that role through my head when I imagine how this will all play out. I don’t worry over all the weird obstacles that come with any adoption story, because every adoption story has some drama. I expect it. I roll with it.

But, as for the parental role? There’s my “unknown” right there.

So, hit me with it: what words do I need to nix?

What’s on my mind. What’s on your mind?

Posted on
15

I’ve missed out on a bit of sleep lately. Not because of worry, or fear, or anything. It just happens sometimes.

And this week was one of those times.

And, when everything else is quiet and my mind has nothing but space to fill, I start thinking about kids. Kids who are old enough to know that the adults caring for them are not their parents and might not care for them forever. Kids who wonder who they’re supposed to call mom & dad. Who have feelings and favorite colors.

Or I think about those who will be born into a world they can’t understand. And who won’t be able to process their first few months of life. Who’s hearts are beating quickly and quietly, and might soon face a breaking.  Who have fingernails and faces.

Then I think about buckets of Favorite Color paint. And skinned knees. And endless bowls of Kraft Mac&Cheese, and tiny shoe laces, and hugs that say “I am yours and you are mine, no matter what the other kids say.”

And then I try to stop thinking. I try to open my eyes and return to reality and remind myself that there will be months of ups and downs and frustrations and questions before …

before the unexpected happens. And the expected happens. And it all happens.

That’s what’s on my mind.

What’s on your mind this week?

The Next Best Me

Posted on
4

Debra is one of the first bloggers I came across and we immediately connected. She’s a photographer from Houston – crazy talented. Loves her family. Loves Jesus. And I love her. I always feel like my soul has sipped a cup of warm tea when I visit her blog…

So, back to those fantabulous questions y’all asked:

Debra Parker: what is the one dream that you would lay all others down for?

Debra, at first glance, this struck me as a VERY complicated question. I had to think on it for a minute before I had the answer – but the answer is so clear and simple:  I’d be willing to do just about anything so that my children would have a better future and a more healthy life than me. Not that my life has been unbearable, but I think we all want the next generation to experience a life that is better than our own. I know I do. And I’d be willing to sacrifice much for the sake of my descendants’ future…

So, here’s a follow-up question: How do you think we can make that dream a reality?