31 hours

My dad came to visit after spending a week golfing in the heat of the valley of the sun.  It's a straight shot from his home in western Montana down the highway to the desert where, in 115 degree heat, you can golf for a steal in the middle of summer.  Five days of 18-36 holes a day, grubbing on Phoenician delectables and improving his game little by little. 

His friend, Betty, accompanied him on the trip south.  Handsome and I met Betty and her then husband, Bob, when we traveled to MT to introduce my future husband to his future in-laws.  I liked Betty a lot.  Apparently she is a great road warrior and obviously decent golfer.

They rolled in, road weary, about 9:00 on Saturday night.  Showers for them both, blowing up the aero-bed, hugs all around and a 10:00 bed time cut the night short.  Sunday morning was coffee and breakfast on the deck in the shade of the monster umbrella.  A scorcher was on the way.  Packed up everyone and their hats and sunscreen and off to pick up the youngest of our family line for a day watching America's favorite pasttime.

What a warm one it was!  The 4th inning brought a cloud that seemed a worthy size and as it passed over the stadium, various sections cheered its arrival.  We chugged gatorades and ate dippin dots and barely survived the loss to the opposing team.  We moseyed over to our adoptive family's house for a pick-me-up dinner of bbq beef sammies and corn on the cob with a tossed salad.  It was delicious and the company was delightful.

Exhaustion set in after a day in the sun and with company so after we got home, showers all around, last minute alarm clock checks and hugs all around with promises to say goodbye in the wee hours of the morning.  4:05 came after a night of tossing and turning but that coffee maker was ready for action.  Hugs all around, tamales packed in the cooler, promises to visit again soon, for longer, and the van pulled away for a long drive back to the Bitterroots.

I glanced around thinking, "I mopped for that?"

Happy anniversary baby, now where's my wood?

Heh, heh, the double entendre doesn't escape me.

Happy fifth anniversary to my wonderful husband.  You give me so much to be thankful for, and making me laugh is at the top of your best trait list.

Thank you for making me a better person for the last five years.  I love ya!

Tonight we will celebrate with my mom and her husband and our long-time good friends from California.  Dinner on the deck is in the works, if Mother Nature agrees.  It poured and lightning'ed like mad last night.  Crossing my fingers!

Happy Mother's Day!

To my mother, who raised a strong-willed, open-minded fireball who loves you anyway.

To my son's mother, who is raising a strong-willed, open-minded loving boy and giving him so much more than I ever could.

To my grandmother, who raised two girls through hard times and taught me the strength of family.

To my aunt, who wished, and experienced, and lost her chance at permanent motherhood.

To my cousin, who is a new pro at motherhood with a beautiful daughter afflicted by cystic fibrosis.

To my cousins-in-law, who all allow me to reflect on their perspectives of motherhood, young and experienced.

I love you all.

Happy birthmother's day!

The day before Mother's Day is traditionally celebrated as Birthmother's Day, to thank all of the women who have selflessly made the choice to place their children in a loving home other than their own. 

Some birthmoms hate this day, and Mother's Day, because it is painful and reminds them of the absence in their lives.  Others celebrate, because we are cherished for providing a child to a family who desperately wanted one.

While adoptive families struggle with their own emotions during Mother's Day weekend, please don't forget the woman who gave life to that child you love so much.

I tip my hat to all my fellow birthmoms out there and wish you a lotta love on this day. 

Openness

The one thing that really kept me grounded through this whole adoption process was that this is an open adoption. While relatively new, I think open adoption is gaining huge strides in being a preferred method of raising adopted children.

I know more about Caden's mom and dad than I would have 20 years ago. We see each other often, many times including my own family (mother, grandmother, aunt, cousins, etc.) so Caden has this enormous extended family.

People ask questions about confusing the child by having so many people who love him. (Huh? Really?) My dad, for instance, did not want to be an active part of my son's life because he thought "he'll have enough grandparents".  Oh well, I think that's my dad's loss, not Caden's.

Or am I co-parenting Caden? Definitely NOT, I allow Sally and Dan all the joys of parenting! I just get to hang out and be the cool birthmom!  It is not my job to parent, those were rights I gave up in court.  It is my job to let this little boy know how much I love him, and how I am forever grateful that I can still be a part of his life.

Semantics cause issues sometimes.  I've fielded questions and comments from people that blow my mind.  One lady, super nice but obviously ignorant, was asking about Caden when I referred to him as "my son."  (I get this a lot.)   She said "Oh, you gave him up for adoption?  Then he isn't really your son."  I calmly explained that until the day I die, he will always be my son.  I may not be his "mom", but I will always be his "birthmom". 

A particularly nasty lady I used to work with, who, coincidentally, was going through the process of adopting a child, would say the most hurtful things to me about being a birthmom.  Surprisingly, my mind must have cleansed itself between then and now because I can't recall any specific thing she said, just that she was hateful.  So, you'll just have to trust me on that one.

I wrote my master's thesis about openness in adoption.  Language that we use is a huge issue in adoption.  Examples are saying "Placed for adoption" instead of saying "Gave up for adoption."  This is because I didn't "give up" anything but my right to be Caden's parent.  I "placed" him in a loving home with wonderful parents who would give him the life I know I could not. 

Or "birthparent" instead of "biological" or worse, "real".  Yes, biology plays an

I encourage you to email me if you have any questions about my experience with open adoption. I think we are a success story. I've been on a lot of message boards and in a lot of online communities where people haven't had such warm, wonderful experiences. Talk about it! We can all learn from each other!

Details

I named him Dominic James at birth. He got his little footprints printed and a birth certificate with that name (and my last name) on it. Sally and Dan renamed him Caden James. They also got his footprints and birth certificate with that name (and their last name) on it. He was a hefty little guy, probably because he ate too much turkey!

Caden and I spent two days together at the hospital. We were both fine, and the nurses were so supportive of me and the decision I was making for that little boy. That was so important to me, being treated with respect. You hear horror stories of nurses who berate and belittle birthmoms because they're placing their children for adoption. I will be forever grateful to the nurses at the hospital where Caden was born!


Adoption is a decision I do not regret. I am so blessed by being an active person in Caden's life. I'm not saying that there weren't bad days. Of course there were. Leaving the hospital empty-handed was absolutely the hardest step I've ever had to take. Some days I would get so angry that they were getting to raise my boy and I was not. But every day things got a little bit better.

I think the sleep that I was able to get immediately post-hospital was a huge life saver!  I spent about 4 days recovering from the whole birth experience before I couldn't stand not seeing that baby any longer.  I had been a weepy pained emotional wreck for that first week but I needed to see him and hold him and love on him.

I called Sally and asked if I could come visit.  She agreed and I drove to their house and spent, oh, the next seven hours just hanging out with all of them.  I fed Caden, changed his diaper, hung out in the nursery, read him stories, and he just ate, slept, and pooped like a champ!

As I was driving home that night, my eyes were dry.  My heart was full.  I knew, without a doubt, I made the correct decision.  Also, I got to look forward to the next time I could see them!

Creating a family

After it was judged that I was firm in my decision to do an open adoption, I started looking through books that these prospective adoptive families had prepared, portfolios of their lives. It was very touching, how these people just opened themselves up, wrote letters and shared pictures of themselves, their lives, their past and their dreams. I tried to picture myself having a relationship with each of these families, so if that was okay, I knew this baby would be okay in their home. I chose Sally and Dan.

I met them in September, while I was seven months pregnant. I felt I had totally prepared myself for this first meeting. Then, when I was driving down to the restaurant, I was talking to the baby, and I said, "We're going to go meet your mom and dad now." And it hit me like a fist. It was real, I was changing lives, life was changing me. I was going down a path that I'd never dreamed of taking, but there I was, foraging my way.

I loved them! They were not perfect, but they were nice and they liked me. They seemed like good people, and my first impression was very favorable. I decided that Sally and Dan would be my baby's parents.

We spent a lot of time together after that first meeting. I got to know them better, they got to know me better, and I felt so good. They treated me like a queen, asked my opinion on important issues like what to name him, and I even brought Sally with me to a doctor's appointment so she could hear her son's heartbeat. They were like a second family to me, which was important to me, because I needed to feel like I could be open and honest with them.

My son was due to be born on Nov. 17, 1998, but he wasn't ready until December 2. I think everyone was frustrated. Sally's parents came across the country for Thanksgiving, expecting to see their new grandson. I felt I had disappointed everyone. Finally, it was time to go to the hospital. I called Sally and Dan and told them what was happening and to come the next day, when hopefully, we would be celebrating a birth! Everybody was in the hospital room with me when it came down to the wire. And I mean everyone! It was pretty crowded in there, and there was soon to be one more!


I will never forget the look on my mother's face when she caught the first sight of my son's head. That look will live forever in my heart. I'm so glad that Dan and Sally were present to watch their son being born. I think that was very important to them, too. Sally cut the cord, and our little boy was finally in the world.

The beginning of the rest of my life

I knew before I ever took the test that it would come back positive. If truth be told, I knew "the morning after" that something was definitely different. I knew that I was pregnant. After the second blue line appeared, I looked at the world through a different perspective. For about a nanosecond, I thought, "Wow, I'm going to have a baby. I'm going to be a mother." Then reality kicked in and I thought "No way can I raise a baby now. I don't have the best job, I don't have my own place, what kind of environment will I provide?"

I was raised by a single mom.  I know it's tough work.  I was 21 years old, barely legal, and really wanted to enjoy being young and free of responsibility.  I was living with my grandma!  My totally ultra-religious, oh man am I ever gonna be judged, grandma! 

So I decided on adoption.

I know there's "the other choice." And I considered it. I have been pro-choice my whole life, fighting for women who needed the right to make decisions that are best for them.  It just so happens that at that point in my life, it wasn't the best choice for me.

What made me so sure that adoption was the right choice for me was that I had been so careless for so long, I considered myself so lucky to be in the position I was in, I couldn't terminate that pregnancy. I was out of school, a college graduate, making decent money, not your regular unwed mother statistic. I owed it to God and that baby to give it life.

I soon told my mother, who was very supportive of my decision to carry the baby and find it a good home.  I did have one chilling conversation with her, where she encouraged me to explore all my options.  At that point, there were no other options and it just pissed me off that she was asking me to consider anything other than adoption.  Sure, my body would not be mine for the next several months.  So, what?  Sure, I wouldn't be able to raise that baby as my own.  And?  I had considered all the options, and really, adoption was the best fit for me.

I started looking for agencies shortly thereafter. The first agency I called was a well-known national adoption agency, who asked me some simple questions. How old was I? I had just turned 21. Was I married? Well, no, and I didn't think many women in my situation were married. She said that she would send some information to me in the mail. I waited anxiously. When I got the package, it contained information about single people wanting to adopt children. Was I not clear that I WAS PREGNANT? Talk about asking the wrong questions!  My search continued.

In this high tech day and age, I found Creative Adoptions on the internet. I called and was given an appointment within the week, in person, at my house! I was not very familiar with the concept of "open adoption." It turned out to fit my needs like a glove.

I wanted more than pictures and letters. I wanted to be an active participant in my child's life. I wanted him to be able to know me, to ask me questions about where he came from, why I decided to place him for adoption. I didn't want his parents to speak for me, when I can speak for myself!

I didn't want to look into every stroller that passed by, into the face of every baby, asking myself "Is that my baby? Does my baby look like that now?" I didn't like the ambiguity that closed adoption presents. I needed to know my son, and needed him to know me.

Open adoption has been around for over 30 years.  There are several "degrees" of openness in an open adoption.  I wanted an adoption where I was able to see this beautiful child I helped create, and to make sure that he knew how very much I loved him.

I became a part of the family at Creative and settled in to a routine of talking with other birthmoms about our decisions and the paths that led us to them.  It was wonderful.

Thanks to Mom

Today I am thankful that I have a pretty great relationship with my mom. She was a single mom for most of my life and had to make a lot of sacrifices for me. We struggled, as so many other families do, during my adolescence, but I think she's forgiven me for pushing and stretching and testing all the boundaries.

We always came as a package deal, and it wasn't until the end of my college career and shortly thereafter that I was really able to stand on my own. My mom always has an ear for listening to me and is usually willing to head out for the next small adventure if I call and ask.

She has taught me more about unconditional love than any other human I know, because boy have I given her opportunities to rethink her stance! To this day, I know that I make her proud, and that I have a champion in my corner whenever I need her.

Love you mom!

Thanks to my husband

It's amazing when you realize that someone loves you so much, not because, like your "family" they are expected to, but because they choose to give you that love. Because they think you deserve it!

My husband is such a generous man, and he really adores me. I am thankful that he has such room in his heart for me and all my wacky ways, for our kitties who test his limits multiple times a day, for his family (who are much like the kitties in their testing of his limits), and that he selflessly gives of himself to just about everyone he knows.

I am thankful that he has such humor in his being and he sings to me, to the kitties, to his friends, just because it makes him feel good.

I am thankful that he is so handy and can fix anything, and he has the wherewithall to know what needs fixing!

Finally, I'm thankful that he chose me and this life we lead, and I look forward to all of our tomorrows.

Love you honey!

The Rubber Band Effect

It's funny, isn't it, how you tend to not see someone for a while and then you run into them and spend lots of time together, then you become distant and unresponsive again?

That's how it is with my blog. Sorry blog. I really do love you. I just think you deserve more creativity than I can give most days.

And instead of giving you half-assed posts, I withdraw completely and you must think I've abandoned you.

On the contrary. I adore you and if the mundane is better than nothing, well, then here I am.

So, Handsome and I had a wonderful four day trip to NoCal to visit Cousins W and T and their spouses and kids. This family I adore so much. They are close in age and wry in spirit. They also make Handsome nervous or uncomfortable. I think because the two cousins are brothers to each other, there is an impenetrable field around them that Handsome has never felt nor been able to breach.

First we flew into Sacto and hopped in our rental Ford Focus (which was both quite adorable and very fuel efficient. Handsome loved it because "it's American, dammit!") We drove to San Francisco to meet a girlfriend who I went to kindergarten with and haven't seen or spoken to in, oh, about 25 years. She looked me up on Facebook a couple months ago and I thought a quarter century just too long to go between visits.

We met Francis in the City and walked to the Ferry Building which is like an enclosed open air market, full of shops carrying fresh cheese and fresh bread and fresh smoked meats and fresh organic vegetables. I was in heaven. Had I $500 and 3 hours and no restrictions on my flight back, we would be eating like royalty right now.

We settled on a seafood place and got a 1/2 bottle of wine and sat out by the San Francisco Bay to eat and drink and catch up over the last few decades. It was beautiful. There are some people that you can connect with again after forever has passed and you just feel comfortable with them. Francis is like that. I found and showed her some pictures of us when we were three or four and she laughed, just like I had when I saw them.

It was easy to be with her. I think we all need more people like that in our lives. Francis and her husband actually met in college in Colorado, about half an hour from where Handsome and I live now. We were 30 miles away from each other for several years, and had no clue. Strange, isn't it, how the universe plays these little jokes on us?

We should've gotten bread while we were in SF. We didn't, forgot, were in a hurry to get to Sacto for the surprise birthday celebration for Cousin T, who was driving with his wife and kids from Los Angeles. Apparently we missed rush hour (Hallelujah!) but beat the LA cousins by about 5 hours. D'oh.

Cousin W and his wife are renting a house that has a squat little orange tree and a tall grapefruit tree in their backyard. The oranges were as big as grapefruits (and so were the grapefruits!) and we had fresh juice every day we were there. Of course, I mixed mine with champagne and called it the thickest mimosa ever made. Surprisingly, it was the first time they had made juice from their fruit. They would buy a box of California clementine Cuties for $10 (!!) but hadn't ever eaten the fruit growing in their own backyard.

The surprise was pulled off without a hitch. Cousin T was excited that we had made the journey to come celebrate his birthday with him. The impetus for us was that Cousin T and his wife and kids are preparing to move to Australia. I figured the plane trip to California would cost far less than a trip to Australia, and we can afford it right now, so we'll be saving up some money before we can spring for the Australia trip. However, how freaking cool will that be? Flying out there will be our only expense - we will stay and eat with them while we are there.

The weather was great, kind of cool but not frigid like Colorado. And everything was so GREEN, it was such a fresh scene. The kids were fun, they tend to socialize with each other more than with anyone else. We went bowling, I bowled a 115 my second game (woo hoo!) and that was fun.

Ate, drank lots of wine, enjoyed some other recreational activities and really fell in love with California again.

20 Tips on Marriage

1. Remember what you like about the other person. Keep it in the back of your mind for those moments when youre angry.

2. Think not just about what the other person can do to make things better, but what you can do to make things better.

3. Couples are too busy these days. You've got to make protected time for each other, time just for the two of you, and you need to do this at least a half hour a week, preferably more. Many couples spend more time exercising than being with each other. One way around that is to exercise together!

4. Respect. Respect. Respect. Try always to treat your partner with respect. Repeated put-downs can become a habit and mark the beginning of the end of a relationship.

5. Play. Let yourselves set aside your inhibitions and be silly. Do foolish things together. Have a pillow fight. Play tag. Tickle each other. Tell jokes. Play pranks on each other. Never take yourselves too seriously. As long as you can laugh, you'll be ok.

6. Celebrate. Studies show that it is more important to be there for your spouse to celebrate good times than it is to be supportive in bad times. Of course, support in bad times matter, but it is even more predictive of success in a relationship if you can celebrate good times together.

7. Present a united front to your kids. Otherwise you will undermine each other. This is not good for you and it is not good for the kids.

8. Say something nice, something you like about your spouse at least once a day.

9. Feel free to make fun of tips on marriage like these but dont make fun of taking seriously the idea of each day doing what you can to make your relationship better.

10. Give your spouse permission to have a life of his or her own outside the marriage, be it friends, groups, career, hobbies, or other activities.

11. When you see an argument or fight getting started, try to catch yourself and say to yourself, "Let me try to do this a little differently this time." If you usually yell, fall silent. If you usually get quiet, speak up. If you usually cry, dont. If you usually rage, try negotiating or listening instead. Just try to vary your usual way of responding.

12. Pay compliments. You can never pay too many compliments. Even if they are mocked or rebuffed, they will be appreciated.

13. Pay attention to the family of origin of your spouse. When you get married, you not only marry your spouse, you marry your spouses family. The old cliché of the terrible in-laws is a destructive one. Make friends with your in-laws and try to have fun with them. Remember, also, they are your childrens grandparents.

14. Try never to use money as a tool of power. This builds huge resentments over time.

15. Try to keep up an active sex life. If sex tails off, this may indicate conflict. Try to get at the heart of the conflict. Usually, sexual activity will pick back up.

16. Avoid the pattern of The Big Struggle. Attack and defend, defend and attack. This can become a habit, a very demoralizing and destructive one.

17. Get to know about your spouses childhood enough that you can understand current patterns in terms of what happened growing up. No one hit adulthood without having had a childhood first. And the child is the father or mother of the man or woman.

18. Have fun together. Do it however you want to do it, but make time to have fun. Sounds obvious, but many couples don't do this.

19. T.I.O. Turn It Off. When you are together, turn off your electronic devices, at least for some of the time.

20. Remember, no marriage is constantly happy, perfect, and blissful. When times are tough, hang in there with each other. Get some alone time, but dont go into hiding. You need each other. It is easy to be there for each other in good times, but in hard times, this is when you really need one another. This is when you just plain do it, whatever it is, for the sake of the person you married and for your own sake as well. Please don't give up. There is always hope.

by Edward M. Hallowell, M.D. and Sue George Hallowell, LICSW

Catching Up

Like writing in a journal, it's hard to pick up where you left off. So much has happened over the last few months.

In August, I divorced my father. I turned it ALL over to God, because I was done. This email I received was the last communication before I decided I didn't need those brick marks on my forehead from running into the same wall over and over and over again:

I can’t believe I’ve let this go this far. Just when I think there’s some hope for us you show me that the road is much longer than I could imagine.

This year has been horrifying. I’ve never been more at war spiritually than in these last eight months. Your stepmom has been fighting for her life and I’ve been fighting for my sanity. I’m proof that God never gives us more than we can handle, but believe me He better have His hand on you while you’re going through it. But this letter isn’t about me. It’s about you.

I have never really looked at your selfishness in quite this bright of a light before. I’ve prayed to God plenty about you and He’s told me what I know, and that’s that I love you with all my heart. No matter how you act. But I don’t have to like how you act. And over these last months I’ve really gotten to dislike how you act very much. I can’t believe you’ve sunken to the depths of self centeredness as far as you’ve gone. I can take a lot of what you dish out in my direction, maybe because I’m your father, but this time you really screwed up. My wife was laying there in the hospital struggling to live and not one card, not one call, no flowers, no concern. And I know where you’re going with this right now that I should have called you and kept you informed. I don’t have to call. You do.

This world does not revolve around you as you think it does. You have this self centered sense of entitlement about you that really fowls the air. Today it is really showing up strong. I’m emailing this to your office because I don’t think you’ll read it if I send it to your home email. I don’t want you to get fired for using company email for personal use, and you will be fired because even that boss you have won’t tolerate an employee that has a sense of entitlement like you have for long. And they will probably use your personal usage of company email as the excuse without having to confront you with the truth as I am now.

So go ahead and bond with your support group and cry about this letter to them. They’ll all feel sorry for how your father has hurt you again, and sit around and agree how bad he is, again. And nod in subtle agreement.

I pray that you discover the truth abut yourself, and soon. I pray God will show you that you can be loved without being liked. That love isn’t a ticket to act any way you see fit.

Yours in Christ,
Dad

As vitriolic as this email was, it was also freeing. It let me know that I could go on with my life, be free of the guilt that my relationship with my father was a failure.

But really? How does somebody rip someone a new a$$hole and then sign the letter "Yours in Christ"? I don't get it.

So, of course, when we found out she was sick, we sent a card to the hospital and again when she got transferred out of the hospital. My dad and I didn't talk again for another couple of months.

My stepmom passed away Nov. 16. My dad left me a voicemail. Obviously sad, but not tragic. Handsome and I made plans to go to Montana for the memorial service. I was a bundle of nerves but very glad I went. Since then, I feel more free and expressive with my dad and our relationship. I loved my stepmom, but she was always intimidating somehow. I feel like I'm on level ground with my dad now. I text him on his phone (he hasn't learned to text back). He's grieving, and that lets me see his human side. I am a lot like him, I've learned. We both make assumptions that usually end up completely untrue. Shame.

I've grown a lot in the last couple months. I was struck down, afraid, sad, liberated and now, just trying to figure out this new relationship. I feel confident again. Whatever happens, I'm glad things have changed. Life is short, we must make amends while there are still people to whom the amends should be made.

Life in a tornado

Sometimes it's just all so overwhelming. The good, the bad, they all gang up on you and you feel small and kind of melty (it is too a word).

We had the midget this weekend, which I have been looking forward to for weeks. Spending time with a ten year old is such excitement. First there was a little league game. Parents can be totally crazy at little league games. A man argued with the umpire about a questionable call (apparently you have to slide into home plate if a play is happening at home plate, running across it means you're out) and I thought it might get ugly. Did I mention the kids are ten? I mean, really, let's try and set an example!

It was cold and windy at the game, but the sun shone all day and I didn't use sunscreen. I have a niiice farmer's tan going on.

About the third inning, I got a voicemail from my mom who had been crying. My great-uncle passed away. Sad, but neither tragic nor completely unexpected. He was the remaining half of a grandparent-esque couple I only recently got to know - my grandpa's brother and sister-in-law. Honestly, my first thought was relief. I know how much pain he has been in and how tough that is for an old body to handle. But also, I thought I was off the hook for feeling guilty about not visiting as often as I should wanted.

The family fell apart after my great-aunt died. She was truly the glue that bound the family together. Lord knows I fell apart after she died. Some people just show you what family is all about, and Marge was the epitome of the word. Harry, her husband, bless his heart, couldn't hear a damn thing anyone said for the better part of 20 years because he refused to get hearing aids. Finally, he gave in, and they arrived in the mail in time for him to hear the eulogy given for his wife.

Having the midget around for the weekend left no time to really grieve, which I took as a good thing. It seemed my mom was crying enough for all of us. After the little league game, the midget and I high tailed it to Tar-Jay for a gift for a four year old. My girlfriend from college, Alaina, whom I haven't seen in YEARS was having a party and I was excited to see her! The midget popped open the Transformers pinata and played with some other kids kicking ball, throwing the Aerobie and apparently cavorting with real-live chickens. The two other children there who were his age were from Korea. As I was thinking about it all later, I realized I totally missed my opportunity to talk to their parents as the third member of the adoption triad. I guess it never occurred to me to bring up adoption with them. Maybe the opportunity will present itself again soon.

We took in a movie that night - grumpy Handsome, the midget and me. We saw Monsters vs. Aliens, which was pretty cute. Handsome laughed out loud during much of the movie, which is always a good sign.

The next day, the midget helped me make Blueberry Cream Cheese Coffee Cake for breakfast, which was so delicious! I love that he's old enough to help cook, or do yardwork (I think Handsome had him mow the yard for a little while, too). I'm not sure if his parents give him such responsibility. I was thinking about when I was ten, we were living in Christiansburg, VA, and I came home from school and spent about 2-3 hours all by myself. I'm sure I fixed snacks and who knows what else. Ten back then seemed a lot older than ten does on the midget. He'd probably do all right.

It was little league day at the Colorado Rockies so we went to the baseball game. What a madhouse! There were at least 500 little leaguers all excited to be there. The midget, however, was the only one we could find from his team. The fun part was they all got to walk around the warning track on the field. I was worried if he didn't see any of his teammates, he might not want to participate. Handsome came to the rescue, saying that since even the coach didn't show up, Handsome himself would walk around with him. Well, that sealed it. Eventually, three more kids from his team showed up, and Handsome wore the biggest grin of them all out on that ball field.

The Rockies did a great job, winning their 11th straight game. Of course, there was a 55 minute rain delay, but it was really because a tornado had formed just northeast of the stadium. Really, a tornado! We decided that, instead of hanging out for an hour in the concrete stairwell playing "I Spy", we should bail and see what the weather was like at City Park. Handsome had his usual panic in trying to drive downtown (why do I not learn and just commandeer the whole driving operation whenever we are downtown?) but we made it to the midget's house. We walked to City Park with our baseball gloves and ball and the Aerobie. We played and played and played. Then we fielded balls for some guys who were batting and pitching at one of the playing fields. The dark clouds started rolling in and I was getting hungry so we made the trek back to the house to change clothes and eat.

The look on the midget's face when we announced we had to go back to the house was priceless, just total defeat. Poor guy - he was having so much fun! But, we had a schedule to keep, and a concert to see! After a YUMMY Thai meal (where the waiters gave the kid no less than three full glasses of a caffeinated soda pop, ugh), we headed to Trinity UMC for a choir concert like no other.

There were five or six churches, each with at least 50 members, packed into the choir loft and the balconies of the church. It was totally beautiful. The acoustics were great, the choir members were amazing. The midget was bouncing off the walls. =)

Handsome and I fell into bed last night. He said, are you sure you want kids? I laughed and said, absolutely, we survived a lot this weekend, and I couldn't have done it without you, and kissed him good night.

A Conscious Marriage

Adapted from Getting the Love You Want: A Guide For Couples, by Harville Hendrix

A conscious marriage is a marriage that fosters maximum psychological and spiritual growth; it’s a marriage created by becoming conscious and cooperating with the fundamental drives of the unconscious mind: to be safe, to be healed, and to be whole.

What are some of the differences when you become conscious? The following list highlights some of the essential differences in attitude and behavior:

1. You realize that your love relationship has a hidden purpose—the healing of childhood wounds.

2. You create a more accurate image of your partner.

3. You take responsibility for communicating your needs and desires to your partner.

4. You become more intentional in your interactions.

5. You learn to value your partner’s needs and wishes as highly as you value your own.

6. You embrace the dark side of your personality.

7. You learn new techniques to satisfy your basic needs and desires.

8. You search within yourself for the strengths and abilities you are lacking.

9. You become more aware of your drive to be loving and whole and united with the universe.

10. You accept the difficulty of creating a good marriage.

Haiku

Cleaning house like mad
Mom-in-law staying tonight
Please, y'all, pray for me.

Life ain't like Ozzie and Harriet

I read a statistic recently that only 25% of families in America are of the "nuclear" variety. (That's nu-cle-ar, not like Homer Simpson's "nu-cu-lar") Mom, Dad and a coupla kids, all in the same house.

At first, I found this statistic to be kind of sad. My mind automatically wants to think that this is the appropriate family structure. Any other kind must be missing something.

I thought about single moms raising their kids. I was raised by my mom, by herself, for many years. I think I turned out okay. Bucking the statistics...

I thought about step-parents loving their blended families. Statistic shmatistic.

I thought about the new generation of grandparents raising their grandbabies, for whatever reason. Although I am eternally thankful that my grandma did not raise me while she was my grandma, I know that many of the grandparents did not have the proper choice as to whether or not they wanted to raise their grandbabies. And they're doing the best they can.

I thought about Matt Logelin, and others like him. Thrust into single parenthood without any say or choice. It makes my heart hurt.

Then I thought about what I go home to every day after work. Wait a minute, I'm not in a nuclear family! It's just Handsome and me at the ol' homestead. And it might be that way for a long time.

And I'm okay with that.

I wonder what effect watching Ozzie & Harriet (or Leave It to Beaver, or The Cosby Show, etc.) had on people who were not themselves part of a nuclear family. Did they think something was wrong with their family, because Dad had blazed out of the picture early (or, worse, stayed in it but in an alcoholic hurricane)?

Or maybe The Brady Bunch was the true trailblazer, showing that there is life after ... widowhood? divorce? Mike Brady was apparently a widower but there was never any mention of what situation Carol survived.

What's more intriguing is that that show was inspired because of a statistic from the Los Angeles Times produced in 1965 saying that 40% of marriages had a child, or children, from a previous marriage.

40% !!

But they never talked about it on the show. It was taboo.

So, news folks, don't make me feel like I'm some kind of weirdo for not having the proper American nuclear family. Apparently, it's never been that way.

Naming rights

The men in Handsome's family named their sons after their brothers. Handsome's cousin is named after my father in-law.

While honeymooning, Handsome and I were talking about names for our future children. Thankfully, he wasn't terribly excited to continue the tradition of naming our kids after his father's family members. The proverbial well was pretty dried up at that point, with Handsome and the cousins being the last of the lineage for a while.

Being of Greek heritage, Handsome wanted a son to have a heroic name, one with ferocity and fortitude. Something like Zeus or Hades. I'm kidding, not Zeus or Hades.

Actually, Handsome wants to name his son after his grandfather: Achilles.

I'm okay with familial names. But Achilles?

Maybe as a middle name.

At the time I was pregnant with the boy, I took great pains into picking out the perfect name for him. It was a family name, incorporating my great-grandfather who came to this country from Portugal. I never met that man, but he had a cool name and I changed it enough to suit that baby.

I knew his parents would change his name when they adopted him, but I do have a birth certificate showing the name I gave him and it does still hold significance to me.

The Duchess has a post about naming of babies and how some people don't seem to realize the significance it can have for the parents.

Handsome and I have agreed on names of our future progeny, and we've been keeping those names mum for just the reasons mentioned in The Duchess' post. I'm curious if any other folks have naming insecurities or other examples of blatant plagiarism when it comes to your kids' name?

Does this banner make me look thin?

Do you like the new header up top there? Cute, huh?

I found a new site called Scrapblog (HT to Midwest Mommy!) which allows folks to create digital scrapbook pages ... for free!

I scrolled through their designs and picked one I just adore. Mixed some features around, put in my own title and voila! Personalized uber-cuteness!

This weekend we are picking up the boy and heading to Heritage Square.

Heritage Square is a unique, delightful replica of a Western village with Victorian architecture and provides an affordable, fun experience for the whole family.

The boy has never been to Heritage Square so I'm excited to take him there. There is an alpine slide which you ride by taking a tram to the top and sitting in these wheelie scooters screaming all the way down. It is a blast!

There's also amusement rides, go karts, good food and ice cream... Can't wait!

Then, another Water World day on Monday. It has been in the 90s most of July and August, so spending a day in and around the water sounds delightful!

Have a terrific weekend!

Milk isn't the only thing that does a body good

Do you ever have those stupid fights with your spouse? The ones that, while they are occurring, you're thinking to yourself, I need to blog about this to get perspective because I can not believe how asinine this is?

Handsome is the type of person who tends to run late for appointments. He just doesn't have a concept of how long a task will take him. When working at a side job (he is a plumber), he'll tell me the job will take him an hour; I'll immediately place the time at 2 and a half.

I hate to be late. I feel like my life is out of control and I get all panicky and breathless if I am running late. I know how ridiculous that sounds, but that's just the way I am.

Last night, I left work early to catch a bus which would get me home early, because I volunteer at our church youth group at 6:00 on Tuesdays. Handsome was supposed to get off work (the punch-a-clock real job, not a side job) at 4:00. At 5:30, as the bus passed Handsome's place of employment, I see our vehicle in the parking lot.

Uh oh.

I call him, get his voicemail and leave a message. Something like "hello, you're supposed to be home right now, why are you still at work, you need to come home as soon as you get this message, it's important, I love you, call me, bye."

Of course, he didn't get home until 10 minutes to 6:00. And I was late to youth group.

I must be PMS-ing because I go from zero to ticked off in no time flat. All I wanted was an apology from him saying anything like "I'm sorry that I was late and made you late."

But NOOOO. I got silence. And brooding. And evil stares.

But apparently I had no right to be angry. I got the whole spiel about how he had no intention of staying at work an extra hour and a half past his shift, it's not like he WANTED to be there. Blah blah blah.

Finally, around 9:00, he gave me the sarcastic apology for making me late. But I was still supposed to feel sorry for him for having to stay late at work (his choice, not a boss's).

ANYHOO...

I feel better for having written it all down and living through the experience. I know I cannot control him or make him on time for things. I have tried (really, I have!) to be less anxious when it comes to keeping a schedule. It's just a character flaw in me, I guess.

This morning, a daily email I receive was just what I needed to read. Here it is.

Forgiveness is good for you — in fact, it may be the most selfishly selfless thing you can do. Study after study has found that forgiving those who have hurt us isn't weak — it's actually one of the best decisions we can make for ourselves.

People who are able to forgive experience lower rates of depression and have less chronic pain and stronger immune systems — as well as better relationships. Part of this can be explained by a decreased stress response. When you dwell on bad experiences, your body registers it as stress and launches a cascade of biochemical reactions. High blood pressure and elevated cortisol levels can result.

But forgiveness is also emotional — even spiritual. Many people learn to forgive when they are older and have perhaps had to come to terms with their own mortality. As we age we gain a different perspective on our problems and, often, on the person who has caused us pain. We are all human and we all make mistakes.

However, be careful of associating "forgive" with "forget." Forgiveness does not mean you forget what happened. Rather, you direct your energy to the future and leave the past where it belongs. Don't forget where you've come from, just keep moving forward.

So, Handsome, you're forgiven. I still love you, even if you totally drive me crazy sometimes.