On Being a Mother

To me, being a mother means

not just wearing my heart on my sleeve, 

but having it tucked into the pockets

of the little people who call me, 

"Mommy".

It means worrying about things

that never crossed my mind before.

To me, being a mother means

really loving others

more than I love myself.

It means seeing the future through the

eyes of my children.

For me, being a mother means

knowing that my heart will break

when their hearts break.

Being a mother means knowing that they 

will grow up, leave our home,

search for their birth families.

For me, being a mother means laughing at

the silly things that they say,

feeling like they are the four smartest kids

in the whole world,

talking about them non-stop to everyone.

For me, being a mother means

sharing in their lives,

their laughter,

their joys.

It means crying with them when they cry,

encouraging them to keep trying even when they feel like

giving up,

rejoicing with them when they succeed.

For me, being a mother means living

each and every day for them.  It means seeing the world through

their eyes.

For me, being a mother is by far the best

job ever.

Wedding Pictures

So, later than the rest of the world, I have learned how to

scan photos onto my computer.  I found

some old wedding pictures.

I couldn't resist.

Marrying Jon was one of the happiest days of my life.

Our marriage has been blessed with happiness, love, and

laughter.  I am blessed, beyond words, that I met

and married the man of my dreams.

Dr. King

Before I was a Mom, I was a teacher.

Sometimes it feels like it was a million years ago.

My favorite teaching job was in the inner city.

I taught in an impoverished, primarily black area,

for four years before we adopted our kids.

I had learned of Dr. King and the civil rights movement, but

until my face was the only white face in a sea of black children,

families, people, I never understood the impact of the civil rights.

Until I saw the pride on my teaching assistant's face as

she spoke of Dr. King and the opportunities he gave, I never

realized how lucky I was and what a sacrifice he, and so many others, made.

It was at that job that I realized the beauty of Dr. King's dream.

The beauty of people being judged by

"the content of their character, and not the color of their skin."

Dr. King made it possible for me, a white woman, to go into a black school

and teach.  Dr. King made it possible for the children

in my class to grow up to be anything.

Most importantly, Dr. King and all of the people that

fought for civil rights, made it possible for me to adopt two 

African American children.

Two children whose skin is a different color than mine.

It is with joy that I think of Dr. King on his birthday. I think of his sacrifice

and the sacrifice of all of those men and women that fought

so that we, people of different colors, could become a family.

A Trip To Sumo

For Christmas, the kids gave Jon a trip for lunch at

Sumo.

Sumo is a local Japanese restaurant that has a hibachi grill.

The chef comes out to your table, prepares the food for you, 

and does all of this entertaining stuff designed to make you laugh, or perhaps

humiliate you.

What made this a gift to their Dad was their willingness

to go somewhere out of their comfort zone.

They tried food they weren't familiar with

and endured all of the silly stuff that the chef did to them.

They put up with having food thrown at them,

orange juice squirted in their mouth,

and a chef that seemed to enjoy making them smile.

He really was good at his job.

I hate having food thrown at me, juice squirted in my mouth,

and going someplace that is out of my comfort zone, but I really

enjoyed this trip with our kids.

I loved watching them sample all of the new food.

I loved their curiosity about the art that hung on the walls,

the way that the grill worked, and how the chef learned to throw an

egg into his hat without breaking it.

I loved seeing their horizons broadened. 

I loved that they loved their Daddy enough to do something for him

that wasn't something they would want to do on their own.

At the end of our meal, Jon asked them if

they would ever go back there.  All four of them said that they would.

I imagine that we will be going to Sumo again sometime soon.

My Doodle Bug

She once shared that she was afraid she wouldn't

be a good mother because she had been taken away from

her birth mother.

Funny what she thinks about.

Funny what she worries about.

She, who can entertain toddlers for hours

with arts, crafts, games and ideas.

She who is patient through all of their tantrums, screams,

and demands for more.

She, who stays with them, even when offered the opportunity to escape.

My eldest. My only girl. The light of my heart, of my life.

She will make a wonderful mother some day, if that's what she

chooses.

For she is sweet and kind and loving.

She is patient and fun and funny.

She is a blessing in our home, in our lives,

and in our family.

I told her all of these things. I hope that she believed

me.  She doesn't need to worry about being a good mother.

She will be.

Ode to My Brother

My Mom was an only child.  More than anything, she wanted

my brother and I to have each other.  Growing up, Tim and I would

fight, and my mother would say time and time again, "You are so lucky

to have each other."

Of course, when we were younger, we didn't believe it.

Then something happened.

We became friends.

The kind of friends that grow up together, share the same memories,

schools, parents.

The kind of friends  that support one another through

good and bad.  Best friends.

My brother was the person that I turned to when I was

getting divorced, when I was struggling in my faith,

when I was raped by my first boyfriend.  My brother was

the person I went to for everything.  He was my friend.

Life, jobs, and distance separated us, and yet through

everything we remained friends.  When Jon and I made

the decision to adopt siblings it was because of our relationship with

our own siblings.

I wanted children that would be able to grow up together like

my brother and I had.

When my Mom was diagnosed with cancer,

it was with my brother that I cried.  We sat in the waiting

room together.  We talked about what would happen to

Dad.  

Together, my brother and I planned what would be

my Mother's last holidays.  We shared memories

of times together.  We talked about what it would be like if and when she

was gone.

He held me as I cried.

Then, as only a brother can, he rolled his eyes, laughed at me,

and asked me if I was done.

My Mother encouraged my brother to become more involved

in the lives of my kids.  She told him how important he was to them.

Despite his natural inclination to remain distant, he tried.

He spent time with them, took them out, listened to them

when they talked to him.

On the day that my Mother died, it was my brother that was the 

first person to make me laugh.  He told me ridiculous stories

about being a white boy with red hair in a Muslim nation.

It felt good to laugh instead of cry.

When my Dad decided to remarry, it was my brother that

told me all of the good things about it.  He was with me during the wedding.

He brought tissues for me, because he knew that I would be crying.

Despite our many differences, one thing remains

true. My brother is one of my best friends.  I may not understand him,

but I will always support him.

My heart hurts for him as he seeks his way in this life.

I am proud to have him as a sibling. I am proud to have him remain a part

of my children's lives.  More than anything, I love him. I would do

anything for him.  I will forever be there for him.

He is my brother. My mother was right.  We are so lucky to

have each other.

I love you Tim. I'm proud to have you as my baby brother.

Baby J.

Love this baby.

Can't believe he's ours forever.

He still looks like such an angel when he sleeps.

Siblings

Adoption makes people, who do not share blood,

DNA, or genetics a family.

Having adopted two sets of siblings, each of our children

share the genetic qualities and traits of their full sibling.

They also share a bond with their adopted sibling.

One of our challenges has been helping our four children bond

as brothers and sister, while allowing them to maintain that

close relationship with their genetic sibling.

The Big K. and Doodles have always been close.

They love doing things together.  They are constantly wondering

where the other one is if they are apart.

One night, after singing at church, they shared milkshakes and a movie

at the computer.  I loved how cute the two of them looked

all cozied up together.

I loved that they were able to be adopted together and

that they will grow up sharing a bond that only

siblings can share.

New Year's Eve At Our House

This year, we let all four of the kids stay up to ring in 2011.

Jon and I had a running bet about how long Baby J. would make it.

He surprised us both by staying awake the whole time!

He LOVES to do just what the big kids are doing.

Each hour, we gave the kids a small gift to open as they

counted down to midnight. Nothing big, just little activities

that they could do on their own, or we could do together with them.

It really was a lot of fun.

Jon and I couldn't help but think about New Year's Eve ten years ago.

We celebrated together in Niagara Falls.  We watched fireworks, explored

the shops and exhibits, and just enjoyed each others company.

This year, surrounded by four squealing children, poppers,

confetti, noise makers, and more confetti, we rang in

the New Year with the four greatest blessings in our lives.

Happy New Year, from our family to yours.

Their House

They built a house, out of snow.

It had a living room, bedroom,

guest bedroom,

attached garage, and

some furniture.

Their house even had a television, that they

were watching, while waiting for dinner to cook.

They invited me to come stay with them, for a while.

I might stop by for dinner, but it

seems a little cold.

Christmas At Our House

After months of preparation, weeks of excitement, and

memories made together, 

Christmas came a went.

We enjoyed a visit from Santa Clause.  He rode through our

neighborhood on a firetruck. Now, whenever Baby J. hears

the sirens, he's convinced it's Santa coming back to take him

to the North Pole.

The kids sang in our church's Christmas program.

We enjoyed a very fun and relaxing Christmas Eve dinner with

our kids.  We all shared memories of the first Christmas

when P. and Baby J. lived with us.  The boys loved hearing

our memories of them.  We all loved knowing that the

boys would be with us for many, many more Christmases.

Christmas morning was a wonderful and exciting time.

With four kids in the house, the noise level and excitement level

was really high.

I thought of my Mom often in the weeks and days that

led up to Christmas.  I thought of her on Christmas Eve and on Christmas 

morning.  I couldn't help but think of how much she would

have loved celebrating Christmas with her grandchildren.

Our family was blessed on Christmas morning to be surrounded by

people that not only loved  us but loved my Mom too.

I couldn't help but think of how 

happy Mom would be to see us so happy.

To see us crying less, laughing more,

and really celebrating the holiday together.

After the presents were opened, and our visitors went

home, this is what our house looked like.

The boys' room looked like a Christmas tornado came through.

Like boys everywhere, they went from toy to toy to toy.

The ripped open packaging, put together race car tracks,

shot guns, screamed, played drums, and

made a mess of their room.

Sweet Doodles spent her morning enjoying her American

Doll Molly and the matching pajamas that Aunt Pammie

sent her.  Her toys were opened carefully and neatly.

Each item was put away before a new toy was brought out.

Yet another reason why every family needs at least one daughter.

This Christmas was truly Merry.  It was a wonderful thing

to spend Christmas with my four children, to count my 

many blessings, and at the end of a very busy day to fall in to

bed exhausted and overwhelmed by the many gifts that I have

been given in this life.