I Don't Want to Turn In To...

   For all of you who had cozy holidays with no family conflict, skip this blog post.  For those of you who have utter confidence in your parenting, you can skip it too.   For those of you who came home to your own beds, own kitchens and own schedules and said, "Thank God"...welcome to my world.

    Beloved Child and I went to visit our family on the West Coast during the holidays.  We are the only members of our kin to live in the East.   Seldom, if ever, does West come East, so we travel to see them.  Last year we skipped due to family angst and poor communication.  It was ugly to say the least and going this year was done with trepidation and low expectations (high expectations are just a recipe for disappointment).  We brought our bags and baggage, hesitations and hopes, and a firm grip on each other.  Beloved Child and I had each others backs.

     Within 24 hours I had managed to disappoint my mother and have her unhappiness pouring upon my head.   Within 5 days doors were slamming, tears were flowing and bags were near to being packed.  Christmas had not even arrived yet.   Beloved Child was trying to be "Switzerland" and stay out of the fray.  Unfortunately her teenage interest in her phone/computer/ipod were part of the problem in my mother's eyes.   The hardest thing is that my mother does not say "Please be available at these times to do "X"."  Or, "I would like to have dinner with you most nights while you are here."  It all gets saved up and then dumped into "Your friends are more important than I am and I don't know why you even come here in the first place!"  I hear echos of my mother making these accusations to my teenage self, and it does not feel any different now. 

     I don't want to turn into my mother and end up screaming at Beloved Child during holiday visits.   I don't want to have my expectations become her problem during the times we are together.   I want her to want to visit me, hang out with me, share her life as she is able and willing to, with me.  I am terrified that I will morph into my mother's behavior and Beloved Child will have the same dread of holidays that I do.  I hate feeling this way.   I do disappoint my mother.  My child will occasionally make me tear my hair, even when we are both adults.  I am imperfect and do stupid things.  I will not scream at my child.   I am thankful to be home.   We need a new model of holidays and family visits.  We need to make our communication better than the communication of my mother and myself.  I am hopeful and I am terrified.    I am sad and I am relieved to be home.   Beloved Child has my back.  I have hers. I am thankful.

11 a.m. 12-16-12

  I wish praying was enough.   I wish praying was enough when parents have lost their first graders to gun violence, when moms can't get mental health services for their kids, when our own kids ask "why?".

   I wish my prayers gave comfort to a dad this morning who is trying to explain to his 3 and 4 year old daughters why their big sister died.
  I wish there were enough candles to light up the homes that are swamped with a darkness that is internal and feels eternal.
   Everywhere I look this morning, Facebook, the newspaper, emails, people are asking "why", are raging against the unfair and  the unthinkable.  Everyone is wondering, "what will make a change?".

    I send you my prayers.  I light a candle for you.   I hug my own child tightly, more tightly than she would prefer.  I thank God for sparing my child from disaster.   I will try harder to be the change that we all want to see in the world.

Beit Shalom - House of Peace

   There is a fire in the wood stove. Beloved child is making her own supper. I have warm tea in my mug and classical music on the computer. Peace at home.

     I volunteered on the Polar Express today. Six hours of serving hot chocolate and cookies and singing Christmas songs with train loads (4 separate trips) of families with small children.  Most every family comes ready to be a part of the magic. They come in their pajamas or holiday sweaters (you have to wear them somewhere I guess). We volunteers greet them upon arrival, settle them in their seats, facilitate the taking of family photos and then serve drinks and treats, all the while smiling, trying to talk over the recorded Polar Express soundtrack and being unceasingly cheerful.  It is a LOT of fun!  It is also a lot of work.   Some children are shy and don't readily interact with strangers.  Some children are ready to jump into my arms and dance in the aisles.   By 4 p.m. my throat was sore from singing/yelling and my ears were tired of the musical assault caused by enthusiastic people who cannot carry a tune.   All said, it was a good day and I am happy to be home.

   I came home to the beloved child cleaning her room.   She has her laundry done, homework almost done and is in a fabulous and relaxed mood.  No one needs anything from me tonight.  I can sit in the chair with my book (Flight Behavior by Barbara Kingsolver) and not move, if I so choose.

                 Tonight I am living in the House of Peace.    I'm feeling thankful.

A Little Confession

     I just read on Tracey's blog "Linguine or Lo Mein" that they are adopting baby number two from China.  It is a wonderful thing and I am happy for them.  Although I don't know them, I read about their family and their little girl Emmie and wish for them only the best in this newest adventure. 

      As I celebrate all of you who are just starting out as new or growing families and send messages of support and encouragement to those of you who are finding the challenges of tiny little people to be exhausting as well as a joy, I also have a bit of kid envy and sadness.   Even if I wanted to start over again (and some days I really do), the Chinese government would not allow me to bring home another daughter (or son) from China.   I'm not too old (just barely), don't have a disability or disorder that would bump me off the list, I have enough resources to care for another child, but China made a rule that bumps me into the "never" category and this "never" is something that I can't change. 
     China doesn't allow gays and lesbians to adopt.   Early on, when I adopted almost 18 years ago, the Chinese didn't have this rule because I doubt it occurred to them that gays and lesbians would want to adopt or that they would ever apply to create families through adoption.  Single women, both heterosexual and lesbian, joyfully adopted in large numbers from China in the early and late '90's.  China was a terrific option for building my family and I brought home beloved child with great joy in 1995.
    Being gay is such a small part of who I am.   I am a mama, a social worker, a (now) spouse, a childcare provider, a volunteer and so much more.  I created a home for us, work to make a living and do the things that most other people do in their day to day lives.   We live in a small town.  I know 10 people in the grocery almost every time I go to shop.   When I got married a few years ago, my community welcomed my new spouse without hesitation.   But, I cannot adopt again.   Not from China, not ever again.

      My happiness for all of you who have new children, who have older children, who are reading because you want children, will never cease.  Today though, as I send happy and warm thoughts to Tracey and Patrick, I am a little sad.   Today, I wish I could have adopted again too.

Sunday Morning

   It is a grey and peaceful Sunday morning.   There is a little snow on the ground, but it will be gone by this afternoon if the predictions are correct and the temperature rises into the 50's.   The dog is snoring on her pillow and the fire is burning in the stove.  It is quiet here.

    I had NPR on until a moment ago.  I was trying to read, listen to Weekend Edition Sunday and appreciate the aloneness when I realized that I really am a terrible multi-tasker.   In our current culture, multi-tasking is the norm.  Work, text, parent, e-shop, cook all at the same time is revered, encouraged and even promoted.  Books are written about how to be more efficient in doing multiple activities.  Women's magazines are constantly telling me that being able to lose weight, work full-time and make artistic holiday cookies can be done.   And yet, as I sit here, quietly, I realize that I will never be good at it and in truth, I don't want to be.

    If you have read any of the previous blogs you know that the beloved child is getting ready to fly from the nest.   She is longing for adventure, freedom and all that becoming an adult on her own will offer her.   I watch her grow and I find myself becoming more focused on one thing at a time.  I want to be here WITH her when she is here.  I want to hear her words.  I want to make grilled cheese and watch her eat.  These precious minutes are going too quickly.

   Multi-tasking is just not on my agenda.   As we enter the full chaos of the holiday season, I am more aware than ever that I don't want to shop 'til I drop, worry about who is getting what and when and stressing about getting the cards done "on time".  I want to hang out with beloved child.  I want to  have peaceful mornings.  I will make soup, read a book, write letters to friends, each thing in its own time.

   I feel the anxiety that this declaration brings, down inside my chest somewhere, but I can push it away, for now.    This moment I want to appreciate the grey morning, listen to the dog snore and breathe slowly.