Lost

I've forsaken my evening blogging by watching back epidsodes of Lost of DVD.

Love this show! Great acting and dialog, interesting plot, awesome character development. Good stuff. My husband and I are totally hooked. Well, I'm off to wash the kids, put them to bed, and watch the 4th DVD of Season 1.

Oh, and I also joined the Busted Can of Buscuits community blog to help me lose some of the pounds I've gained over the past few months. Twice I wrote the first two paragraphs in this post and published in that blog. See how excited I am about seeing that show tonight?

Stranger Danger

My little girl is the friendliest person I have ever known. It's amazing to see her approach nearly everyone in her path, whether they be a haggard old homeless person or a child her own age with the same thrill and enthusiasm. I'm a bit shy by nature, and so is my son, so it's almost comical to see us nearly bow our heads in embarrassment and feign polite smiles while my daughter fearlessly introduces the entire family and tells her life story. It's also very scary.

I can't begin to count the number of times she has invited people over to our house. I tell her afterward, "You can't invite people over!" She says, "Why?" in a most perplexed voice. I say, "Because we don't even know their names. They are strangers." This means nothing to my little girl.

Some strangers great my daughter's friendliness with cheer in return, some ignore her, and others really don't know what to make of it. I notice that as she gets older (she's 4 but pretty tall for her age), many people, especially other mothers, shoot me a look of concern. I understand the look to mean, "This is dangerous."

Yes, it is very dangerous. I have nightmares right in the middle of the day of my daughter slipping away from me, only to be quickly lured by promises of candy or puppies, or simply a bit of friendship. Right now my biggest concern is how to create a little fear into my innocent little girl. I feel like a big ol' meanie, a Mr. Grinch, but I don't see any way around it. I've got to make her a little bit afraid of people. I just don't know how, or even it that is very wise.

I've spoken to other mothers, friends of mine who have children, and they say to do it, instill the fear, make them afraid. Exactly how healthy is this? I don't know. I'm confused.

Reflections

There was a time I drank to drown my sorrows. I drank during the day, every single day. I would finish my chores, then pour myself a couple of very tall, stiff drinks. I ruefully called this time of day my happy hour, and I actually looked forward to it. It makes me sick to think of that.

It was sad, self-pitying, lonely time. I had left my job in the anticipation of an adoption that never happened - we were ready to receive a brother and sister, 1 and 3 years old, overseas.
When that fell through I found myself very depressed with a lot of time on my hands.

I am a person who has trouble sharing my pain, and with the exception of my mother and my husband, no one knew how messed up I really was. I was angry and hurting deep, and I turned to the bottle to numb myself. Dumb.

At that time I had no supports, however that was my own fault. My friends knew what I was going through, but not what was happening inside of me. They didn't know about he dank, ugly mess that was my soul. I think they would have turned from me to avoid seeing a person who had become a black hole.

I didn't know about adoption message boards at that time. I didn't find them until after we had adopted our children. I wonder if it would have helped. On the other hand, with so many trolls and anti-adoption voices, maybe I was better off. I was way too fragile to know about the existence of birthmothers and adult adoptees who choose to view adoption negatively.

During the time when we waited for our children I developed many deep wounds that I thought would never heal. I lost myself completely. I thought I'd never return from such an lightless place, but my children saved me. Those adoption boards who repeatedly claim "adoption doesn't cure infertility" really do not know of which they speak. I needed children in my life. I needed a family of my own. The fact is that I have what I am looking for. I finally have the purpose I waited so long for.

I can't say that it doesn't matter that my children have biological parents other than my husband and me. Of course it matters. They matter. The kids' biological parents are an addition to our lives - they do not subtract what we have as a family. I wish I knew that during that difficult time when I very mistakenly viewed adoption as the alternative to a "real" family. I wish I knew. It would have saved a lot of wear and tear on my heart and my soul.

Very slowly, very surely, I am regaining myself. I am coming back to that place where I feel secure in the world, where I feel that pain does not lurk around every corner. I am feeling a bit of self confidence coming back to me.

The positive side to all those experiences is that my scars have made me a much stronger person. As they heal, I can feel the pain in every stitch. The memories of all those experiences have become physical entities sewn right into my body. These scars have made me tougher - so much tougher, but more importantly, I can see the silver lining where I never really did in the past. I finally understand the sayings Everything Happens for a Reason, God Has a Plan, and This Too Shall Pass.

I thank God for my infertility, for the years of heartbreak and sorrow. Without them I wouldn't have my children, these gifts from God, and without them I wouldn't have the new and improved me. Thank God.

Yogi Soldiers

Loved this!

Yoga catching on with soldiers

My evil thought of the day

When I read this headline...

Hooters chairman Brooks found dead

I thought, "Good!"

Yes, I know that is totally evil, but the idea of exploiting young women's bodies to sell chicken wings really pisses me off.

Meme!!!

I lifted this from Joy.

In My Purse
Diapers, baby wipes, inhaler, a pen, a pad of paper, crayons, keys, sunglasses, several lipsticks, bandaids, wallet, cell phone, Purell.

In My Refrigerator
Milk, yogurt, sliced pineapple, leftover chicken, green beans, a couple of beers, garlic, onions, orange juice, lemonade, apples, eggs, cheese, butter, and about 2 dozen assorted condiments.

In My Closet
Lots of shoes, a case of my daughter's dress-up clothes, ironing board and iron, my clothes and my husband's clothes, belts and ties.

In My Car
Several children's books, 2 Magnadoodles, 2 car seats, 1 stroller, 1 first aid kit, 2 umbrellas, Purell, pens, bank deposit slips, nail file, nail polish, Clorox wipes.

Man oh man, I didn't realize what a high maintenance gal I've become.

It's a Boy!

When we were trying to conceive a baby, then when we were trying to adopt, I secretly wished for a girl. Actually, I'm terrible at keeping secrets from hubby, so I did tell him.

My husband was horrified. "Don't say that! What if we have a boy?" He feared that I wouldn't love the baby as much if it were a boy, which is of course not true. I knew I would love either gender, but if I had to choose, I would want at least one girl to add to the family.

When my daughter was born I was ecstatic. I would have been thrilled with a boy too, but I had the little girl I had hoped and prayed for so many years. When we were ready for adoption #2, I secretly hoped for another girl. I didn't say anything to hubby this time.

I think I wanted a girl again because I knew what to expect. My daughter is a typical girly-girl (I could go into an analysis here on nature vs. nurture creating gender-specific qualities, and I would like to, but I think I'll save that for another post), and I enjoy every part of that. My husband and I are far from being sports inclined and we are definitely not aggressive by nature. I think I was a little nervous about the possibility of a little tasmanian devil-type character. I was happy when we learned that my son's birthmother would be delivering a boy, but I was a little unsure as to how I would fare as the mother of a son.

As Karma would have it, my boy turned out all the rough-and-tumble you could ever expect. He's more boy than I think I've ever even seen at that age. Though our TV has never shown a sporting event (except to channel surf right on by it), at 2 1/2 years of age my son knows how to hold a bat and hit a ball. He's obsessed with wrestling, dinosaurs, and trucks. He is fascinated by anything S-C-A-R-Y. He has brought a whole new world into our home. And it is wonderful.

The most beautiful part of having a son, for me, is the intensity in which he gives his love. As severe as his temper tantrums can be (though thankfully those have declined drastically), the other side of the coin is the depth of emotion contained his kisses and hugs.

I have been blessed to have an abundance of loving people in my life, but nothing holds a candle to the way my son looks at me, the way he hold me face in his hands and presses his lips to me, the way it seems the world would shatter if I looked at him the wrong way or if I leave the house without him.

My son can be a very greedy little boy. Touch the food on his plate, and you'll likely lose a finger. Mess with his blankie, and you'll get what's coming to you. But somehow it's different with Mommy. If I'm laying down, he often runs over with his blanket, tucking me in and making sure I'm comfortable. If I'm sitting down while he's eating, he'll offer me the food on his plate and insist that I try a bite. His Daddy just looks and shakes his head because he does not get near the same treatment.

Yes, my son is little bit of a mamma's boy. He's also a bit of a tasmanian devil. But I wouldn' t have it any other way.

And we're off...

My apologies for not keeping up here. Once we get back from our trip to the Lake next week I will look forward to posting, reading everyone's blogs, and seeing what you all are up to.

This summer has been a busy one so far. And by summer, I'm talking about the period of time since all the rain stopped - about a couple of weeks ago. We're in the yard, we're off to the park, we just can't sit still. I love this warm, sunny weather.

Today we are indoors. I am packing for our getaway. It'll be a family event - my MIL, my parents, and a couple of brothers-in-law will be with us too. It'll be one of those fun but irritating vacations. You know how it gets when you get too many family members in close living quarters for extended periods of time. Hmmm.

Oh well, I'll just try to focus on the fun. Thank God I don't have PMS. Somebody would kill me by the end of the trip.

Oh, I forgot to mention that I finished a fantastic book - The Time Travelers Wife. I couldn't put it down.