Forever Family

As I hang up with the social worker, I’m feeling so confused and full of angst.  I wonder if I can really get involved in this again.

It would seem that birthmom has requested some pictures of our Kiddo.

Sounds like a fairly harmless request, right?  Well, that’s what I was trying to figure out.  I suppose I can understand why she might want pictures.  Her biggest fear was always that Kiddo would have a miserable life in foster care, and perhaps she wants some reassurance that he’s healthy and happy.

My initial reaction is that it can’t really hurt.

But then I start to worry.  What if we’re just opening a can of worms?  What if the thing I’m hoping will give her closure and help her move on, really just opens old wounds and makes things worse?  Clearly she’s still struggling with some issues, otherwise she wouldn’t have lost custody of this second child.  She’s not healthy yet…physically, mentally, or spiritually.

Hubby and I have worked very hard to ensure a happy and safe environment for our kiddo.  We’ve made some major life changes and gone great distances to do so.  Would sending a picture jeopardize it?

Hubby and I discuss that night.  He has the same initial thoughts I did, and his ultimate inclination is to not send anything.  It’s not worth the risk.

At first, I agree.  But then, I’m fairly convinced that birthmom and I connected on some level he can’t understand.  I really feel like she liked and trusted us, as much as she could considering the situation.  She knows Kiddo is in a great place.  I don’t think she is asking for the sake of reassurance, and I don’t think social services would contact us for that reason.

Ok, so if I rule that out, what does that leave me with?

Well, maybe she really is just curious and a little nostalgic.  I can’t blame her, and I’m sure a new baby would definitely bring up old memories, but I don’t think social services would play along.

Then, after a long sleepless night, my exhausted brain starts taking me down dangerous paths.  After all, she wanted to relinquish custody to us the first time…maybe she wants to again.

Could it be a crafty way to pull us in?  For all her faults, I never doubted that she always wanted what was best for Kiddo.  I would be willing to bet she’s feeling the same way about the new baby.  Maybe she wants them together.

But then there’s these paternal relatives.  From what I gathered, it sounds like there is some strife between her, the birthdad and his family.  Maybe she’s just trying to manipulate the situation and exert some sort of control.  I don’t want to be a pawn.  Pawns rarely win the game, and I don’t have the energy.

Then was the social worker reaction when I told her we would absolutely take the child.  Her mood changed and she said she was “grateful” to hear that.  Why would she say that?  Could it be that she knows some kind of alternative permanency plan was needed for this child, and ultimately we could adopt?

Here’s part of the problem.  Once our adoption was finalized with Kiddo, we moved out of state.  It was a good decision, and our life has been better for it on several levels.  However, we knew that by doing so, we would complicate the situation if there was to be any other children.  Being so far away, we could never foster a child of hers that she or birthdad were entitled to visit.  We would have to wait until parental rights were terminated.  That can take a year or more after a child has been removed.  That’s a lot of time to miss.

So no matter what, the baby could not be given to us until parental rights are terminated.  The social worker indicated to me that they were still several months away from that happening.

After a couple of days of willing myself to not obsess on this new baby, I had another talk with my Hubby.

I told him I thought we should send a picture.

So by now, I’m pretty much in some sort of emotional overload.  I don’t know much, and I am extremely hesitant to be hopeful, but my multi-tasking skills come in handy as I manage to make a lengthy mental baby prep checklist and come up with a whole slew of baby fantasies.  I’m already making an inventory of the baby stuff we’ve kept as Kiddo has grown out of them, and wondering how much a can of formula is going for these days.

No no.  Cannot think like that.  That’s how I got in so much trouble last time.  Be cool…chill out.  Breathe!

I look down at the phone number, and I begin dialing for the social worker.

Oh yeah, now I remember how it’s supposed to work with these guys.  Does she answer?  No.  Can I leave a message?  No.  Her mailbox is full.  Dammit.

Do you doubt that I didn’t dial that number every 30 minutes until I could either a.) speak with her, or b.) leave a message?  You bet your a** I did.

Surprisingly enough, I get through that afternoon.  Immediately I think, “It’s meant to be!”

Stop thinking like that!

This social worker can’t be more than 22 years old.  I wonder how she asserts herself in this very difficult job sounding so young.  But she’s crafty.  She doesn’t tell me much, other than a name, sex, and age.   She assures me that he’s safe.  The paternity of this child is different, and this time there are some relatives who can be trusted.

She can’t tell me much about the progress of the case, because it is till so very much in progress.  She can’t really even indicate to me that parental rights will be terminated.  The only information I can infer is that birthmom and birthdad have disagreed about what to do with the baby.  I sense there is some tension between birthmom and the whole birthdad family.

What I can guarantee you is that this social worker doesn’t think much of birthmom.

I ask her why we’ve been contacted.  If we’re not needed, then why get us involved?  We’ve taken great lengths to distance ourselves, and now we’re being pulled back in.  I appreciate that they let us know that Kiddo has a bio-sibling, and someday we’ll share that with him.  However, something else is going on here.  What gives?

She doesn’t really answer me.  She says that birthmom requested it.  I laugh and tell her I know they are not stupid enough to contact us just because birthmom may have some unresolved issues and needs some closure.

And yet, for sounding so young, she’s really good at evading me.

So I decide on a new tactic.  I decide to talk about us, and how well things are going.  I tell her how happy we are, and share some cute stories.  I point out how healthy Kiddo is and how far he’s come.  I hope I can maybe dazzle her with our parenting skills, in hopes that it might put some positives in our column if they’re considering what the permanency plan for this child should be.

I ask about birthmom specifically.  I hope SW can pick up on the bond (however strange it may have been) that b-mom and I had.  I tell SW about the conversation b-mom and I had about future children, and I told the SW that we would absolutely adopt any more children.

I even tell her that Hubby and I actually just had a conversation about working on child #2.  In fact, I had just been online the previous week looking up how the foster process works in our new state.  No joke!

All of a sudden, the mood of this girl changes.  She goes from somber to happy.  She’s “grateful” to hear that.  Grateful?!?!  What does that mean????

She then makes a request.  It’s on behalf of birthmom.  I need this conversation to end, because I’m getting all mixed up and my head is starting to ache.  I tell her we’ll talk it over, and I’ll call her back.

I’m not much of a phone person, but my need to know exactly what was going on with this baby situation far outweighed my awkwardness to dial the number.  Besides, past experience would suggest that the social worker wouldn’t answer anyway.  I could leave a message and wait for her to call me back, giving me ample time to calm down and get my wits together.

I mean…a baby!  She had a baby!  Clearly she was struggling with it, otherwise there wouldn’t be another social worker involved.  Plus, she wanted us to know!!!  She was reaching out to us!!!

Amazingly, the above thoughts raced through my head in less than 15 seconds, which proved to be just enough time for me to become really overwhelmed, and for the phone to ring exactly 2 times before the social worker answered.

Dammit!  She answered!  No time to recoup.

I pulled it together as fast as I could.  I used inane pleasantry babble as both a cover for my anxiety, and as a time staller.  I shared a couple of cute stories about my Kiddo and how well he was doing.  In my mind, I applauded myself for accomplishing the ulterior motive of proving what fantastic parents we were.

Then we come around to the email.  Social worker knows nothing.  The new worker had contacted her at request of birthmom, because birthmom knew that old worker would be able to contact us.  However, she feeds into my speculation.  Perhaps new baby needs a home.  I remind old worker that of course we’d take the baby (and how wonderful it would be to keep the siblings together!), and that birthmom and I had a chat about that (once upon a time).

She wants to know if I would like to be in contact with the new worker.  In my nonchalant and cool way (it’s important to not appear overeager), I say “sure!”  She gets my new phone number and agrees to pass on to new worker with my email.

“Well, do you think you could give me her name and number, too?  That way I can just call her directly.”  Again, I didn’t want to wait for them to call, and especially on their time.  It could be weeks before I knew anything more, and I was pretty darn sure I wouldn’t be able to stand it.

Fortunately, she agreed in a way that was more like “duh, why didn’t I think of that,” instead of “gee I really shouldn’t but I will anyway.”  I was feeling good.

I hung up with her and immediately called my hubby.  The thing that really sucks about being adoptive parents is that we are NEVER together when we get baby news.  It’s always over the phone while we’re at work.  What a bummer!!!!

Was he excited?  Most definitely.  Was he now wondering all the same things I was?  Absolutely.

Now I start dialing the new worker.

Being a parent is H-A-R-D.

Duh, right?

And yes, no need to remind me.  It ain’t gonna get any easier.  Just when I think I’ve got it nailed…when I think I know what I’m doing…when I’m feeling confident about how things are progressing…WHAM!!!  I’m gonna get nailed in a blind spot with something new.

I always said I was up for challenge.  I’m sure the moments when I will want to eat those words will be haunt me to the end of days.

Outwardly, things have been great.  People ask me how I’m doing, and in a chipper voice I respond with “Great!” or “Fantastic” or “Things are swell!”  I have so many blessings to be thankful for.  I have my health, my family, employment, and a roof over my head that I can afford.  I’m living the American Dream, while so many others have stumbled and fallen on it.

I am head over heels in love with my Kiddo.  He’s the best kid.  Ever.  Sure, I’m slightly biased, but pretty much everyone who comes in contact with him agrees.

And yet, I’ve been struggling inwardly with a very simple problem.  Something is missing.

Fortunately, my psychosis is easily diagnosed.  I pretty much know the exact moment that my brain went into a cluster.  I received an email from a very unexpected source.

I hadn’t realized just how much I had packed away into tiny dark recesses of my mind how emotional our adoption journey was, until they all came flooding forward when I saw an email from Kiddo’s old social worker.  I really do think my heart stopped.  She had not included a subject, so my inbox was good enough to point out the lack of subject by stating (No Subject).  Yeah, thanks MSN for the head’s up.

My mind raced through the options.  What could she want?  Are they coming for him? (impossible, but you fear it like some people fear giant man-eating spiders)

It was only a paragraph.  She started sweetly enough.  She thanked me for some pictures I had forwarded along over a year ago, and gave me a brief status report on her promotion.  Two sentences into the email, she dropped the bombshell.  Kiddo’s mom had another baby.  The new caseworker had notified our old worker at the request of the birthmom, because she wanted us to be notified.

That’s all she knew.  We were to email her back if we wanted more info and she would put us in touch with the new worker.

Ok, so my first reaction was relief.  Nothing was wrong.  The paperwork was done and some loophole wasn’t setting us up to be the next Lifetime movie.

But then, my heart starts racing.  Another baby?  I knew it!!  I knew that girl was pregnant again.  But why does she want us to know?????????????

Let’s step back in time for a moment.  If you recall, Hubby and I agreed to meet Kiddo’s birthparents back in our foster parent days, because we were hoping it would help out case.  At one point during our visitations, I had a little tete-a-tete with b-mom.  I told her if she ever needed us again, and if there was another baby and she just wasn’t ready, we would absolutely take it.  She seemed to be relieved and happy to hear that.

Could this be why she was looking for us?

Email’s too slow.  I picked up the phone and called the social worker.

And yeah, I’m gonna do that to ya.  I’m gonna leave you hangin’.  You’ll have to check back for more.

Well whaddya know.  Madonna flew home this weekend…without a new daughter.

Huh.  Who woulda thunk it.

My first reaction was surprise.  I didn’t honestly expect a country struggling like Malawi to turn away from a gift horse and not take advantage of the money and notoriety someone like Madonna has to offer.  Can’t say I really blame them for wanting a piece of her very extensive financial pie.

My next reaction was happy.  Good!  See?  Fame and fortune really can’t buy you happiness!  Take that, Madonna!  See what it’s like to be the rest of us that have to play by the rules.  We don’t get little inconvenient laws bent and an army of lawyers at our beck and call to exploit loopholes.  Now she knows what it feels like for thousands of other adoptive parents who’ve waited months, even years, for a court in another country to rule in their favor or paperwork to get sorted out.  It SUCKS!  It’s incredibly taxing, emotionally draining, and just downright exhausting.

That was all fine and good, until I saw this article this morning.  Then, being the girly sucker I am, I started to feel bad.  Check out this picture.  I know that look.  That look is layered sadness, dejection, hope, and perseverance all mixed up.  I think this really hurt her.

I wouldn’t wish that kind of pain on anyone.  It’s hard to describe the hurt of being within grasp of taking a child into your family, only to have it snatched away by a court.  It’s so difficult to meet and spend time with that child, working towards finalizing that adoption, but not knowing.  You want to just sweep that child up and reassure them that you will always be there to love them, but don’t yet have the approval of some judge in order to do that.  This small innocent face just looks up at you, not knowing what to do or how to think, but wanting so badly to have you be the one that returns some love and sense of family.

I’m starting to think she really wanted this.  No doubt she was hoping for a shortcut, but I’m guessing her heart really was in the right place.  I’m so sorry for her.

However, it’s really Mercy that’s getting hurt through this whole mess.  I doubt she knows what is really means to be Madonna (the whole fame thing), but she does know about mothers.  She knows she needs one, that one was there, and now she’s not.  Mercy doesn’t understand about courts and laws, but knows she’s still waking up each morning in an orphanage.  How confusing and painful this must be for her.

Madonna will appeal.  It will be interesting to see if the Malawi court will continue to stand their ground.  How far will she be willing to go?  How far would you go if you were her?  Would you follow their rule and take up residency in Malawi for at least 18 months?  No tours…no press junkets…no flitting about with A-Rod.  Will she put that all on hold?

If she does, I may resurrect my old 1980’s old school Madonna collection and become a fan all over again.

In case you missed SNL’s weekend update, click here for your enjoyment.   I tried to embed the video, but I’m having problems and got tired of fighting with it.  Old fashioned links never fail!

I have nothing revolutionary to say today.  Pity, huh? 

I had a hankering to write anyway, so I went surfing for something to talk about.  Google searches for adoption turned up lots of articles about Madonna and pets, but I’m not interested today.  After all, I’ve been there and done that in these posts.  I need some new material.

Scroll scroll scroll…click click click

And repeat.

Then I found this article .  I saw the byline that it is from Science Daily, so I figured it had to be somewhat interesting.  At least I could count on it not mentioning Madonna.

The thing that gets me about some of these studies is that someone actually spent 3 years of their life engrossed in something we all kinda know anyway.  When it comes to parenting, why do some people prefer boys to girls, and vice versa?  

Adoptive parents make a perfect subject to study this question, since we’re not forced to play gender roulette like biological parents.  We can be choosy.  

Dr Goldberg concludes: “This study represents the first investigation known to date that explores the child gender preferences of both heterosexual and sexual minority preadoptive parents. The data suggest that both the adoption context and the sexual orientation context may have implications for how men and women think about the gender of their future children.”

Thanks Dr. Goldberg for scientifically proving that conclusion.  I’m pretty sure all parents, adoptive or otherwise, tend to obsess over the gender of their child.  It’s kind of like ground zero for future development.  Most of us would consider it a pretty big deal.

And no, this picture has nothing to do with genders and our babies.  I just thought it was funny.

In case you’re concerned and despite the total lack of quality of this post, I’m not losing my marbles.  I’m just a little punchy and I’m cooking up a new project.  The reallocation of my brain power resources causes strange disruptions at first, but it will correct itself eventually.  Have hope for tomorrow.

Plus, I’ll have a big announcement about the aforementioned project.  Aren’t you excited?? 

Ahhhhh…to be a celebrity.  Talk about living the good life, Robin Leach style.  Big houses in exotic locations, fancy cars, a small army of assistants to do all your dirty work, and cadre of cameramen following in your wake to document it all for our consumption.  After all, if we didn’t long for the good life of a celebrity, what else would we have to rot our brain with?

And so we’re taking in our hot gossip and waiting for the Madonna adoption saga to unfold.  We do have to wait all the way till Friday for any developments, so in the meantime let’s obsess over other aspects of her life.  Apparently the entire paparazzi population is in Malawi to photograph her every move (which must be somewhat of a relief in pressure to other mega stars that grace the tabloids frequently), so we’re going to get days of exposure into her life.  Grab your Pepto Bismal…nausea could ensue.

After all…we should bask in the glow that is Lourdes new found womanhood.  Poor kid.

We have to admit that Madonna is a marketing genius.  She’s been famous as long as I can remember.  The value of her name alone would probably put a major dent in our country’s trillions of dollars of debt.  I doubt she really remembers what it’s like to be “normal.”  Her wish has been the command of many, and it appears that even impoverished African countries are willing to do whatever they can to share a small bit of her limelight and fortune.

With stories like this, it’s no wonder we long to be famous ourselves.  Caviar wishes and champagne dreams, baby.

That is, of course, unless you plan on adopting a pet.  Apparently the rescue and shelter managers are the only ones in this whole world capable of keeping a level head.

I came across this story regarding Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt back when I was writing a post about adopting pets vs. kids.  I remarked then about how flip-flopped it is that we have extensive campaigns to adopt pets, but the same doesn’t seem to go towards adopting children.  This story is old and I’m not even sure that it’s true, but it’s somewhat interesting, in a comical and ironic sort of way.

It would seem that Brangelina got a hankering to add to their family and adopt a dog.  I think most of us would expect a loud and amorous reaction, should Brangelina walk into our office.  Most people would be more than willing to give them anything and everything, too starstruck to even consider anything more than the fact that Brangelina is standing right there in front of them, although they would likely be thinking of ways to share the news and gloat to all their acquaintances.

Surprisingly enough, it would seem that at this particular shelter, they really are more concerned about the overall well being of their dogs, and not of the star power of who wants to adopt them.  Brangelina were DENIED as doggy parents.  Go figure.

It’s interesting, isn’t it.  Apparently there are more guidelines being adhered to in order to adopt a Labrador Retriever, then there are to adopt a human child.

Lesson learned?  If you’re a dog lover, being a famous person isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.  You’ll get no shortcuts when you want to get another dog.  All that money and celebrity just wasted.  It hardly seems worth the paparazzi drama.  If you don’t get to have EVERYTHING you want, then why bother?

This post is hurting my head.  I need an aspirin.

By now I’m sure you’ve heard that Madonna is in Malawi, planning to adopt a little girl.  If you’ve been buried under a rock, or avoiding the news all weekend (and good for you I say), then here’s a link to an article. 

This is an interesting article from the BBC.  They interviewed Dominic Nutt, who is spokesman for Save the Children.  They disagree with adoption, and he is quoted as saying:

 You cannot literally take every poor child who may only have one parent living, or no parent living, across the world and transport them all into Kensington in London.

Touché Mr. Nutt, but you’re treading into dangerous territory.

We all know this is true.  We can’t expect to save the world Westernizing everyone.  Who’s to say that our lifestyle is any better than that in places like Malawi.  As we all know, having “things” doesn’t really amount to a better life.

I’m also going to infer something that he says about taking kids out of these countries and that they may have living relatives there.  The quote the BBC uses from him makes him sound a little dense, and I think misses a point.  In some of these countries, adopting kids has become a trade.  Orphanages and even government officials are making a tidy little profit off of adopting kids out of the country.  Guatemala has been in the news recently for this very thing.  Desperate parents make easy targets for a greedy official with no heart.

Kids are being taken and adopted, but without the consent of relatives who may be perfectly willing to raise the child.  There is a word for this…it’s called kidnapping.  Mostly the adoptive parents know nothing about it, but can become victims to ugly international custody battles.

So yes, Mr. Nutt.  Considering those things, I agree.

However, if this girl is truly an orphan (the article states that her parents are dead), and a good search to find a living relative has turned up nothing, then she is entitled to be raised by a loving parent in a good home.  To not allow her that chance because that home happens to be in another country and from a totally different culture is not fair to her.  Should she live out her in an orphanage, simply because no one in her community is willing to give her a home?  Is that better for her?

But these are the least of my concerns in this story.  Here are some quotes…

-”Writing in response to e-mailed questions from Nation readers last week, Madonna said: “Many people - especially our Malawian friends - say that David should have a Malawian brother or sister. “

-”After the adoption (in 2006 of David) was legalised, Madonna said the difficulties had arisen because “this adoption essentially was the beginning of the creation of adoption laws in Malawi”.

She hoped it would make it easier for others to adopt from the country and explained: “I am the template or the role model, so to speak, for future adoptions.”

-”Malawi does not, as a rule, approve adoptions for single or divorced people, but the official at the country’s welfare department said that each case was considered on merit.”

First of all, adoption to give a child a brother or sister is not a good reason.  It can be one of the reasons, but it should not be THE reason.  I also infer that they mean to give David a sibling that shares his clearly different culture and heritage from his other siblings Lourdes and Rocco.  Again, this is treading on thin ice.  David (and eventually Mercy) need to be fully integrated into part of the family.  I hope that introducing Mercy into the mix isn’t meant to fill a gap in his heritage or give him someone to bond to.  Mercy should be a complement, but not a bridge.  If he’s feeling isolated and this is Madonna’s way of trying to appease him, it’s not going to work.  Now she’ll just have 2 children feeling separated from the family, instead of 1.

Second… well…I’m not sure why the second statement irks me so much.  Perhaps it’s thinking of Madonna as a template or role model.  I long to give her the benefit of the doubt, but I’m not entirely sure her first adoption was on the up & up.  I don’t think that adoption law should be based on how it works for a celebrity, as we’re going to see in my third rant.

My final problem statement is the exception Malawi is making to Madonna’s newly divorced status.  Cases are considered on merit?  Or are they considered by the size of the pocketbook?  I don’t necessarily agree that only married couples can adopt.  I happen to know some really fantastic single parents.  I also know some single parents who have longed to adopt and been frustrated by some countries/agencies that will not consider them because they are not married.  Then there are the same sex couples who are in a committed relationship but still do not qualify.  In my mind, none of this is fair.  However, if a country or agency makes a decision one way or another, then that needs to be the rule.  When I see things like this, it just tells me that celebrities get special circumstances, which then leads me to question the legality of the whole adoption to begin with.  Did she complete a home study or a background check?  What else is she getting out of, simply because she’s Madonna?

Ultimately, I hope this story goes away…fast.  This isn’t an overall upbeat article.  None of the ones I’ve read have been (this one is much worse).   There are holes and funky statements and suggestions that lead me to ugly conclusions.  I don’t think this is giving adoption a good name.  

However, my heart also breaks for Madonna a little.  I can’t even imagine what it must be like to live life for so long under the spotlight.  She’s been through some huge life challenges, and we’ve witnessed it all on the tabloids.  Even now, during what should be a special and private time for her family as they welcome a new addition, the cameras will snap and the rest of us will voice our opinion.  I hope they all find happiness and get some time to just be together without the rest of us watching. 

Do you have a secret?

Is it a tiny little secret, or a big whopper that haunts you in the dark?  Are you keeping it from someone you barely know, or hiding it from someone you deeply love?  Are you looking for the perfect time and place to tell someone your secret, or are you perfectly content to let it stay clandestine?

As you can tell, I have a secret.  It’s from my son.  I haven’t told him yet because….well…he’s not quite 3.  He wouldn’t get it.  But I will.  Yeah….I’m pretty sure I will.

No really…I will!  I promise!

But how?  How do you tell a little kid that they’re adopted?  What will that mean to him?

I have some great commenters.  On my post yesterday, Ken @ Dad to Two mentioned he found out about his secret when he was 39.  Kristy mentioned she found out when she was 7.  Shelly revealed she’s adopted, but didn’t mention at what age she found out.  Carl said that his uncle didn’t find out till he was 40.  I could go on, but the theme here is that there is no magic formula to follow.  When is the best time?  When is the worst?

This dilemma is something I’ve considered since the day I started thinking about adopting.  I know it’s something I’ve come to terms with, which I hope would be obvious.  I don’t care that my son is not biologically mine.  I love him with all my heart and soul.  But that doesn’t necessarily mean he will have an easy time dealing with it.  I sincerely hope our good bond and healthy parent/child relationship will mean something, but I can’t say we won’t have our challenges.

I know…I just KNOW…that day will come when we argue about something.  I’ll send him to his room or ground him, and he’s going to fire back with “you’re not my real mom,” or “I want to go live with my real mom.”

Well, you’re stuck me, Kiddo.  You’re wasting your breath.  After all, I’M your real mom, for better or for worse.

Anyway, I’m slipping off subject.  What I want to know is when I should tell him.

I did a lot of research on the subject before and during our license process.  The experts generally agree that the child should be told early and often.  It should be treated like it’s no big deal, and just a part of who they are.  One suggestion was to start telling to them as infants like a bedtime story.  Sure, they may not understand what you’re actually saying, but to think of it as a rehearsal.  That way, when they were finally old enough to understand, you are so used to telling the story that it’s not a big deal.

At first, I liked this option.  I thought for sure I could do that.  But the more I thought about it, the more I decided against it.  First of all, you’re then talking about adoption with your kids ALL THE TIME.  It’s like you spend time every day pointing out the differences in your family.  Then your kids are always thinking about it, then comparing themselves to the kids around them, and constantly dwelling on something that makes them different.  I don’t want him to do that.  I want him to enjoy being a kid.  I want him to know, but not obsess.

Then there’s the “son we need to talk” approach.  Wait until they’re of an age they can comprehend these kinds of things (like Kristy’s 7 years) and sit them down.  I’m not sure I like that approach, either.  How do you determine that magic age?

My approach thus far has been to document.  I have scrapbooks about the early days, with bubbles of dialog filled in that say things like “Our first visit” and “The day you came home.”  The picture that follows is clearly NOT that of a newborn.  His previous foster mom was good enough to give us a few pics of some of the firsts we missed, and those are in his scrapbook, too.  My labels says “Even though we weren’t with you yet…”

Kiddo loves to look at these books.  Although it’s somewhat accidental, I suppose this will be the tool we use to help start that understanding with him.  We’ll see how well that works out.

I’m feeling the need to confess, and I’m not even Catholic.

 In the post before my rude Entrecard interruption, I delved into our experience meeting Kiddo’s birth parents.  The comments to that post got me thinking.  Thanks for all the comments, by the way.  Without you guys, my brain would just stutter and stop.

Actually, this is a thought I’ve been toying with for some time.  It’s a very naughty little thought, and you’re going to demand lots of penance.  

Here it goes…I have actually considered not telling my kiddo about the adoption.

Yes, I know.  It’s horrendous.  How could I even think such a thing.  Go ahead…judge me.

But it’s soooooo tempting.  If you saw a picture of us all together, you would never guess he’s not my biological son.  In fact, I found a picture of myself when I was one year old.  We all thought it was a picture of him.  He has the same coloring, and even a scientifically inclined person with some knowledge about dominant and recessive genes would look us and never guess.  

Plus, he was so tiny when he was placed with us.  His adoption was finalized not long after he turned a year.  He will have no memory of any of that.

Then there’s the whole being a kid thing.  It’s HARD to be a kid.  Other kids are cruel.  It’s difficult enough trying to find your place, fit in, and just be a normal child, without a monkey like adoption hanging off your back.  

Our family is so perfect.  We just fit!  I don’t want to disrupt that.  I want him to be happy and loved and have a great life.  I want to protect him from pain whenever I can.  Telling him just irks my sense of mommy.

But, I’m also a semi-intelligent and logical person.  I know that would backfire horrendously, and I may end up losing him all together.  I should not deny him his heritage or his identity.  There’s more to him that meets the eye, just like his beloved Transformers.  What a terrible crime it would be for me to try to keep that from him, just to satisfy my selfish need for a perfect family.

So calm down.  I won’t keep it a secret.

What I am thankful for is that it will entirely up to him to share that info with other people.  Since no one will know by looking at us, it will be his little secret to do with as he chooses.  The big bad bully at school doesn’t need to know (and it’s not his business, anyway).  If Kiddo decides to share with someone, then that’s his choice.

Are we ok?  You still like me?  After all, if we punished everyone for having a bad little thought, we’d be way too busy giving out spankings to worry about pesky things like bank bailouts and stimulus packages. 

Actually, it helps to document my thought and post it out there for the world.  I’m releasing it, and now I won’t think of it again.  See?  Therapy is a good thing.