Cathartic journaling of an adoptive mom.
Latest Posts
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Smile more
“Fake it until you make it.” As a worn down mom, going through the motions is not a betrayal of truth, of self or of my family. Going through the motions, of serving, washing, cooking, working, reading, soothing, listening, praying, and then taking to heart the genuine feedback of my youngest daughter during the darkest…
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My experience was different
And there’s no better time to speak up than when the balance seems tilted in my favor. To be honest, in High-school I’ve witnessed the sexual harassment of my colleagues. The perpetrator was a teacher. Somehow I’ve dodged that bullet. Frankly I can easily pull off and mean look. I can easily give that vibe…
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Birthday party
The more enthusiastic Jackie was, the more I dreaded the planning of her birthday party. I felt her expectations were getting out of control. But I understand her genuine kid heart and joyful anticipation. When it comes to parties, I include all people out of a sense of responsibility and usually things turn out diluted.…
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Poetry or prose
I feel I can be more honest in poetry, because metaphor and fewer words use can hide and at the same time reveal so much more. Prose on the other hand, unstructured, poured out, takes me by surprise when it makes sense of my inner journey. But it’s messy and confusing at times. And cluttered…
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A date and a confrontation of self
…waiting in line to get a cup of coffee to go, on a Sunday afternoon. I kept a good attitude, light, grateful. We hadn’t planned our date. We never do. Therein lies out trouble. we walked aimlessly, from establishment to establishment, just to move on empty handed. We have barely scraped the surface of reconnection…
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Iron sharpens iron
Oh my goodness. For a few months I got a little worried. My eldest daughter would so easily get on my nerves. We would butt heads, and we would disagree too often for my comfort. And every day was the same. We would find something to cause disagreement. The feeling of helplessness or feeling trapped…
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Did she love me?
My daughters haven’t asked quite yet, this question about their bio mom. But all older adoptees have wondered this very thing. Some verbalize the question. Some are hunted by it. I met the other day with an adoptive mom whose daughter is 15 and who is a believer. Around age 8, her daughter asked her…
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What makes me come alive
I am lucky to have had low lows and high highs and the space to discern what I love to do and am good at. Passion doesn’t make us experts, it makes the learning fun and seemingly easy. But hard it is. I am not an expert about adoption, but I can speak from personal…
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humor and perspective
I went in to tidy up the girls room, and saw short black hair on ivy’s bed. I thought in might be Rufus’ and I brushed it off. But as I picked up more stuff, I saw chunks of other type of hair everywhere. And the Disney princesses mixed about the carpet. I thought they…
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Transformation
Returning home from school, ivy declares her expectations or wishes for the rest of the day. Taking a deep breath and letting the conversation unfold slowly is increasingly challenging with two kids. I agree but mention that jackie needs to eat lunch and then do her work before play. Tired after school, with a bucket…
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Adoption, motherhood and leadership
I am not maternal. As a kid even, I didn’t seek comfort, even when it was offered. I relished in it in small doses or got enough of it before I could even remember. I don’t ask myself about the past. Not anymore At least. Instead I’m finding my balance to do well in my…
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Deep silence
For months I felt like I can’t focus, my mind being called in too many directions. It is my first day alone in this house. And I love it. The dryer hums in the background like with a soothing productivity sound. We left the house before sunrise. We first dropped Conrad off at the hospital…
