Adoption

The Flow Chart of My Family

I met all the kids, their Dad and their step-mom a super funky vegan restaurant for lunch. It is the kind of place that woman have body hair and my son with dreads is the “norm”. Not the kind of place I expect my family to be the “odd ones out”…

As we are siting having lunch I heard people behind us trying to “place” all the children-

“Well those blondes are theirs (referring to my ex and I)”

“That one (pointing at Tennyson) must be hers (pointing at their step mom)”

Later on Tay was holding the baby and they asked “do you think the baby will have red hair?” clearly trying to put together if Tay and Tag were siblings…

Let me draw this out for everyone-

My Ex and I are the biological parents to-

  • Tajh
  • Teagan
  • Tayer

Together we adopted-

  • Tennyson
  • Tru

My Ex has no relation to-

  • Taggart

I get where it is confusing, all white people with blonde hair look alike and all. This means, Tajh, Teagan, Tayer, Tru, and Taggart all look like my ex and I. Tayer’s hair is a little red which could be confusing, but he gets thrown in with the “all white people look alike” thing most of the time.

Where this is most confusing for people is Tennyson. Tennyson is hispanic, just really dark skinned. My children’s step mom is black and most people assume Tenny is as well, so they “match”.  While I can understand normal curiosity, at some point it’s just frustrating that strangers need to make sense of my family. More then that, it’s frustrating that people like to point out how different one of my children is from the others. As an adult, you should know better. Most likely if you are a stranger and question why one of my children looks so different from the others I will do my best to politely change the subject. There may be a point made of how I did not give birth to all of them, and I will move on… But if you catch me on a bad day politeness may allude me.

 

 

 

Categories: Adoption, Parenting | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

A daily dose of cuteness.

Tennyson came into our lives at 5 weeks old. She spent that entire 5 weeks in the NICU due to some unfavorable womb conditions.Then she was a tiny 5 pound alien. She slept and sometimes ate, never really growing too much. Well into her 2’s her speech just wasn’t there and, as a mom, I stressed. During this time we happened to be very into listening to Adele as we played, cleaned, and went about our business throughout the day. One day something happened, my baby started to sing. Adele came booming out of this tiny 22lb soaking-wet frame. From that day on, my little sings all day every day. Here’s a little share, the second half is when she really gets into it. And also please note, little brothers are not conducive to adorable sister moments!

Categories: Adoption, Parenting | Tags: , , , | 1 Comment

Waiting for Mommy

Any time I spend around other “average” children the age of my littles, I find myself jealous. Mothers especially love to a compare milestones, tell you how smart there baby is, and judge when yours doesn’t stack up. I find myself angry. Angry that their child, whom presumably has been offered all of the opportunities in life, is being compared to my littles who had all the odds against them from conception. I have “average” children, I know what it’s like.

Tiny Tru Dylan

Tiny Tru Dylan

Tennyson was my first real visit into the world of a delayed child. She didn’t talk for a very long time, and it was frustrating. You look at this little person and, just the same as every mother wants, you want them to say “Mommy”. Thankfully, Tenny happily learned to sign and used that as her way to communicate until she began talking. Tru is a whole new beast. The boy rejects signing, instead choosing to scream, constantly. At times I question is it being the youngest of 5 that causes this? Is it having 4 older siblings who will respond because, they too, do not want to hear the screams? Is it because, to them, a scream means something and they will talk for him? Or is it the massive amounts of drugs he was exposed to in utero? Or does it even matter? Fact is, my littlest little can’t tell me what he wants, and that breaks my heart. Less importantly, it means my littlest little does not call me Mommy.

With all the screaming he does he is lucky he is so darn cute!

With all the screaming he does he is lucky he is so darn cute!

So I sit and wait. I wait for that special moment when he looks into my eyes with his big
sweet adorable blue eyes and says “Mommy”. I wait for that moment like it will mean anything different for our relationship. Logically, I know he knows who I am. He has been mine since he was 5 days old. It’s the heart that hurts when the words are lacking. The other day I cuddled and tickled him in bed, just loving on my little having some special one on one time. I looked in his face, tickled his cheeks, and I asked him to say Mommy. Having spent nearly his entire life in speech therapy, he is very good at watching mouths and attempting to imitate. After a few encouragements from me, my little buddy looked and me and said “Mommy”! Did I cry? Absolutely! That magical moment I feel jealous of other mothers for happened. Since then he has only said it one more time, but twice is enough for now. I heard it, with my own two ears. I’m a pretty happy Momma.

Tru Love

Tru Love

Spending time with other mothers will still be hard. I heard that magic word, but, although it fills my heart, he is still behind the curve. I know he is not going to stack up for a while. I know for him everything will take a lot more work. Good for you your child knew his abc’s at 14 months and is reading at 16 months. I’m so happy for your little one that learned to ride a bike at 2 and was doing algebra by 2 ½. My little buddy is 22 months and he just said “Mommy”.

Categories: Adoption, Parenting | Tags: , , , | 2 Comments

My Day

The Tennyson

The Tennyson

Tennyson is hanging out in the playroom while I am getting some work done and I decided to listen in on her game. Apparently, she is adopting puppies, a lot of them. I turn to her and say:

Me: “Tenny did you know kids can be adopted too?”

Tenny: “No.” – and continues to play

Me: “Honey, you were adopted” – Sheepishly I say this as it may be the first time I have used that word with her

Me: “Who adopted you?”

Tenny: “Mommy!” – With a huge grin.

Me: “Do you know who else was adopted?”- Feeling slightly watery in the eyes.

Tenny: “Tru”- Again without looking up from her new puppies

Me: “Anyone else?”

Tenny: “Just Tru and me.”

Tenny & Tru

Tenny & Tru

At this point, of course, I scoop her up and cry, just a little (that’s a lie!). All of this still feels so new that I feel unprepared to answer questions from my little two. When I look into her little eyes, even though she looks so different than all of the rest of our family, it rarely occurs to me that she came from another woman. Tenny has always been my baby. From the moment I picked her up from the hospital, the tiny 5 pound, 5 week old, was attached to me. Although it took well over a year her for her to “officially” become ours, this little bundle of crazy could never have been taken from me.

Tiny Tenny

Tiny Tenny

I usually research everything. I over think, get stressed out, and over think some more. Why has this research, how to handle adoption talks with your children, alluded me? As I watch this little hellion that has my crazy attitude and her sister’s smart mouth (maybe they got that from me), I see no differences from the children I gave birth to. She hugs, kisses, and loves like the rest of them. As a mother, maybe I should read more, learn more, be better prepared, but that interaction shows me to her its no big deal. She knew from somewhere clearly. Somehow in our talks she heard the word and knew, but for her I am mom; a pretty thankful Mom to boot. I know one day things will get harder. I know the teenage years will be difficult for them all but maybe even harder for her. I am also excited. Excited to see who my smart, kind, loving, beautiful little lady becomes.

Adorableness!

Adorableness!

If I ever hear “now this one is a little darker…” from anyone again, be prepared for my fist and your face to meet.

Categories: Adoption | Tags: , , | 2 Comments

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