Tag Archives: Friendship

Riding in Cars with Boys

21 Aug

You soooo don’t want to know this (I have future visions of you plugging your ears and singing, “la la la la la” every time I bring it up), but I’m going to tell you anyways. I’m telling you this info partly in the spirit of full disclosure and partly because it was a highly educational experience.

Mama’s got a boyfriend. He’s caring and respectful and stable and handsome and he makes me ridiculously happy and I’ll stop being gushy now. Let’s put our creative powers to work and call him…The Boyfriend.

You’ve met him twice. He was nervous at first — I kept having to remind him that you were two and probably wouldn’t remember if his first impression totally sucked. But you two took took each other, and the fact that he cared about a toddler’s first impression of him was adorable. He helped you play baseball and tossed the football with you and dunked you in a giant tub of water at Grandma M and Pop Pop’s house. Also, he bought you a “bubble gun” for your birthday. Automatic win, I know.

A few days after I returned from my summer internship in New York with NBC, he took me to the beach. Yaaaay five hour road trip. But I’ve always been a fan of road trips and The Boyfriend has a good CD collection, so I was ready to spend a good ol’ five hours jamming to music (yes, I jam) and talking to my guy. We get along unbelievably well and I figured we’d just talk, talk, talk until the beach showed up on the horizon.

Except for here’s something I learned about riding places with boys for extended periods of time: they don’t talk in cars. Boys are perfectly content with silence. Well, music and silence. After road trips full of girls and chatting and rolling the windows down and more chatting followed by obnoxiously singing along to Prince or “Baby Got Back” (I know every word and I’m really proud), “quiet” was a new concept. One that didn’t last too long either because I decided that this whole “quietly observing the rolling countryside in peace” thing was highly overrated. But there was relative quiet for at least two-ish hours. I mean, I actually twiddled my thumbs in the car at one point. Literal thumb twiddling. Sad face.

Once I brought it up to The Boyfriend when we finally reached the beach, he laughed (because my neuroses are so adorable) and said guys would be guys. And then I tried to dunk him in the ocean. That’s unrelated to the story, but it was fun.

But sometimes I look at The Boyfriend and I think of you. Not because you look alike, but because one day you will be a taller-than-me, probably-still-blonde, hunky 23-year old. You will probably jam out to music and not talk unless spoken to. Maybe you’ll even fall in love when you’re 30…or older…and you’ll take her to the beach. But it’s instances like that with The Boyfriend that remind me just how much I have to learn about boys. It’s a lot. A whoooole lot to learn. I truly know nothing about boys — having you has been a learn-as-you-go experience. I’ve still got a ways to go knowledge-wise, but I have a feeling you’ll be a wonderful teacher.

On the bright side, at least I’ll know that when you and I go on road trips together and it gets quiet, you’re not giving me the silent treatment.

The Boyfriend helping you into the swing!

You are SO my kid.

This photo does a heart-melty thing to me.

The ultimate reason why you like him ;)

The E-mail That Changed the World

10 Aug

Thank You Gmail

Well…it changed my world anyways. Nothing like a little hyperbole to get the day started off right.

After I signed adoption papers and you were handed over to the interim care mom (whom I LOVE to this day), I didn’t talk to The B’s for almost a week. We’d text here and there, but I didn’t really talk talk to them until exactly one week after you were born.

This would be totally normal and okay. Except for I had told The B’s that I wanted to be in constant communication with them after you were born. I figured it would be easier for me to stick to my choice knowing that they would always be there. And then you born. And then I wanted to keep you. And then I felt bad about it because I knew they were expecting you. So I didn’t return their phone calls, only occasionally returned texts, and was all but basically silent.

Yikes.

I still feel bad about this, I really do. I would have been seriously annoyed with me if I was them. But as a birth mom, you really don’t know how you’re going to react until you get there. And once I “got there,” I felt…sad. Really, really, really sad. I missed you. I wanted you. I needed you. But the fact that YOU did not necessarily need me (and actually needed people with much more resources at their disposal) kept me from calling my social worker and demanding you back. You deserved better than what I could give you, and no matter how badly I wanted you, I wanted you to have better more than I wanted to be contented with your presence. And “better” was The B’s.

So after a week (and a couple of therapy sessions) I came to a realization: J had told me that she wanted to hear from me. Up until the adoption, we had talked multiple times a week via e-mail (and a couple of times in person during visits) about everything under the sun — our favorite movies, the best ice cream flavor, summer camps Sports Man was involved with, etc. It suddenly dawned on me that The B’s wanted our relationship to be open. So that meant that I could tell them anything I was thinking…even if I was thinking about keeping my son.

So that’s what I told them.

Exactly one week after you were born — one week of the worst kind of internal tug-of-war you could imagine — I sent J the longest, most emotional, most raw e-mail I’ve ever sent to anyone. Maybe I’ll post it one day. But it was all about how much I missed you and how I’d always feel like your mom even when she was, and how I felt like I wasn’t good enough for you and that I wanted to keep you so, so bad but I couldn’t find a way. I told her how I felt when I first saw your face and how broken I felt without you. I told her how I felt about adoption. I told her everything.

But the e-mail that changed everything wasn’t the one I sent to her. It was the one she sent to me in response.

The first thing she did was thank me for being open with her. She told me she thought of me as “her Renee.” She told me she ached for me in all that I was feeling. She told me she never, ever wanted to take away the fact that I was your mom too. She told me I was not alone. She told me a lot of things that I have since saved, re-read and cherished for the past two years, and will continue to cherish for all the years to come.

Everything changed that day. The pain, the hurt, the horrible tug-of-war…it all kind of dulled after The E-mail. It all became more of an echo than a reality, because I knew everything would be okay. I felt reassured. I felt like this family, The B’s, really, truly did understand my desire to be a part of your life and their family. A desire that was, thankfully, mutual.

My erratic heart, my frantic mind, my up-and-down mood…they all calmed that day, the day I read her response. That e-mail was one of the many small things The B’s did that made all the difference, but it was the last thing. From there on out, I was okay with my choice, because I knew I would never have to leave you. I would get to be a part of you forever, not just because wanted to be, but because they wanted me to be as well.

Which is awesome. Because now I get to see all of your cuteness on a regular basis. And you are really, really cute. Not that I’m biased. But in all honesty, I’ve never looked back. I never miss a beat when anyone asks me if I regret it. Because I don’t. Not for a single second have I ever regretted it. I love them with my whole heart. And you. And your cuteness.

So I’m just saying…anyone who knocks technological advances should rethink the wonder of e-mail. You’d be amazed what it can do for a girl.

Gotcha Day

3 Aug

Two years ago today, you were adopted. The B’s call it Gotcha Day. I think that’s adorable.

The day itself wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. There was an official ceremony at the adoption agency and everyone was there — me, Pop Pop, Grandma M, Aunt S, The B’s (I finally got to meet Sports Man that day — Happy Second Anniversary of Knowing You, Sports Man!) and your foster family whom we all still love dearly and talk to frequently. There was also cake (not a terribly important detail, but it was delicious). The B’s had to sign their half of the paperwork and that day, you became theirs.

The wonderful thing? That was the day I became theirs too :)

We all became each others family. It’s been two years of tears and adjusting and overwhelming love and getting to know each other and learning new things and becoming sisters and brothers and daughters and mothers and friends. If it were possible for me to be any more thankful, I might try. But I feel so fulfilled, I truly don’t believe it could be any better than it is.

All because of you, Little Man. All of this — this family, this love, these lives that you have completed — is all because you exist. You are beautiful. You are incredible. You are a miracle. You are everything everyone needed. You brought us together. You are my angel for that, and so many other reasons.

So Happy Gotcha Day!

Happy Family Day

Happy Anniversary

Happy Day-You-Met-The-B’s

Happy Day-Renee-Got-the-Sister-She’d-Always-Wanted

Happy You-Are-Not-Alone Day

Happy Day-We-Started-The-Best-Adventure

Happy Beginning-of-a-Wonderful-Journey-Day

Happy First-Day-of-the-Rest-of-My-Life

Happy, happy, happy day. What a beautiful thing it’s turned out to be.

My Family. I Gotcha <3

Mama’s Makin’ a Change

30 Jul

This summer, I’ve been interning. It’s one of those lovely things you do to try to integrate yourself from college-world to real-world (not MTV style. Also while, we’re on the subject, never watch The Real World. Ever.)

During this wonderful, amazing, incredible experience of interning, I’ve been doing a lot of research — one of the many tasks I’ve been given. And the cool thing about this research is that a lot of it is researching blogs. Lots of parenting blogs to be exact. It’s been eye opening, let me tell you. Everyone has a different style. Everyone has a different voice.  Lots of people have some seriously cool photos. Some people have interesting advice while others have humorous anecdotes. But all of the blogs are about the people who write them, the people they love and the people who read them.

That last sentence probably shouldn’t be an earth-shattering realization. But it kind of was (no judging my slow uptake…you may seem on top of things at the age of two, but you probably inherited it). So, after coming to my not-so-novel conclusion, I’ve decided that I’m going to be adding something to your letters — a little bit more of me.

I started these letters because I didn’t want you to go through a single day wondering whether or not I loved you. It’s a common birth mom fear…that as you grow, our choice will seem less like a sacrifice (which it is…wow, let me tell you) and more like “giving up.” And the last thing I would ever want you — my sweet, gorgeous, incredible baby boy — to think is that I gave up on you. I never have and I never, ever will. I love you entirely too much. While you may no longer be literally linked to me, my lifeline is intertwined with yours; what hurts you, hurts me and what makes you smile, makes me the happiest girl in the world.

But I also want you to know me. And every now and then, I just want to talk to you about what’s going on and what I’m doing and how I feel and why it makes me think of you, or how I wish you were here to see something I really want to show you. But I generally don’t, because I think to myself, “That’s not the point of the letters. These are about him, not you.”

But then I realized you are 50% me, and that maybe one day — if I’m lucky — you’d really want to know me.

I also realized that I am the writer, and you are who I love and the people who read about us are the people that love and adore us both (well, maybe just you. You’re more photogenic and you’ve got the whole “I’m-a-baby-and-therefore-automatically-adorable” thing going for you). And since these are my letters to you, I can put in them whatever I’d like. And what I’d like is for you to really know me, as deeply and as much as you can, because that’s how I plan on knowing you: wholly, completely, entirely, truly.

So just a heads up, you’re going to get to know me very well. I’m determined. I’m also very talkative and thoroughly enjoy talking to people who have yet to develop the ability to tell me to shush.

A.k.a you :)

I love you. Thinking of you always.

Why yes, I’d love to hold you :) anytime.

We’re so gonna be BFFs. I can tell.

You got a kick out of spraying me with water. It was adorable. Also, when did you learn how to aim accurately?

To My Handsome, Little Valentine

14 Feb

Hey there, handsome little man. Today is Valentine’s Day! I know that doesn’t mean much to you yet, so I’ll tell you a little bit about it.

Today is all about love. Love for your family, for your friends, for someone special. It’s about celebrating the people in your life that cherish you, and that you cherish back. It’s about loving yourself for who you are. It’s about realizing how much love you are surrounded by, period. Again, I know this doesn’t mean much to a one-and-a-half year old, but I find it to be very convenient since I am crazy, madly, head-over-heels in love with you.

However, when most people think of Valentine’s Day, they think of romantic love, which is also lots of fun. You won’t have to worry about this until you’re at least 45, so don’t think about it too much yet. But today E may be gifting J with a card or some flowers (or vice versa knowing how creative J is). Somewhere right now, a girl is getting chocolates in a heart-shaped box and a guy is planning a romantic evening. As you get older, things like this are what Valentine’s Day will be about.

I, however, like to think of Valentine’s Day as how I said it earlier: “It’s about celebrating the people in your life that cherish you, and that you cherish back.” I don’t save my love for one person (although if there was a list, you’d be at the top…sorry everyone else!), I like to give it freely to everyone important to me – my mom and dad, my beautiful friends, The B’s.

In a way Valentine’s Day is like Thanksgiving for me – it makes me realize how many people love me and care about me. It’s a day when I realize how wide my support system is and how lucky I am to have everyone in it. I have some of the best friends in the world, friends who have known you since you were just an 8-week old ultrasound picture, who love you almost as much as I do. They have always been there for me, whenever I need them. I adore them. They make my world go round, just like you do. Never underestimate the power of support.

So on this lovely Valentine’s Day, I want you to know that if you choose to celebrate Valentine’s Day the way I do, you are going to have the world’s biggest support system to be thankful for. You will have The B’s who already love you beyond words. You have J and E’s parents who think you are one of the world’s coolest kids. You have my parents you already brag about you endlessly and have their home wallpapered with photos of you. You have my friends who ask to tag along on every visit I take to see you and swarm my house whenever you come to town. You have your awesome big brother who already loves teaching you things and playing with you. You have everyone you’ve touched along the your journey from me to the B’s.

And lastly, you have me – no matter where you go or what you do. No matter if you want to be a rock star one day and football player the next. No matter where your dreams take you or what your interests are, I will support you. I will help you reach those dreams and explore those interests. Whatever you want to do or be, I want you to do or be. I am proud of you and I always will be. It is vitally important to me that you know how much I love you. Which part of the reason I started this blog – so I can tell you every day. Not just today, which is dedicated to love, but every day I possibly can, whether I’m with you or not.

So Happy Valentine’s Day, my handsome Little Man. I’m so happy to be yours.

You and I last Valentine's Day :)