Perfection

Ever had a perfect day?  I have.  Many times, except sometimes I forget to be present in the perfection and instead find every flaw.  I have said it before, I will say it again.  I am a control freak, perfectionist mother who needs to make sure everything is going as planned.  Plan.  My husband is a willy nilly pragmatist who knows that nothing will go as planned, especially with four children 8 and under and a wife who has her panties in a bunch more often than not.

 

This weekend however I promised myself I was going to find perfection.  Perfection in the normal.  The normal that is a basket of clean clothes sitting next to the bed, waiting to be folded.  Perfection in the Friday that changed because a friend from 600 miles away was in town and time needed to be spent.  Perfection in dinner out and ordered dessert for the first time in years.  Perfection in a Baptism that was too hot, too long and just too boring for my four children to keep it together the entire time.  I found perfection in a backyard barbecue that had rain pouring down upon it and children rushing in and perfection again in the mud covered babies I took to mass because I wanted to sleep in today.  I found perfection in the frogs chirping as I fell asleep and the birds chirping as I woke bathed in sun with two children at my side and one wiggling within.  Today, I found perfection in a little cardboard box, unwrapped but holding a special gift.  There was perfection in Shop Rite Bagels, bottled water and a trip to the Duke Gardens in Hillsborough.  There was perfection in an overpriced Virgin Margarita at a little Mexican joint along 22.  I found perfection in a walk, cut short by mom because it was obvious kids were getting worn out and there was perfection in stopping by another mother's house to try and make her day more special.  I found perfection in ordering groceries because going to get them today just wasn't on my list to do and finally, I found perfection in a toasted PB &J that I didn't have to make or clean up.

Today was simply perfection.  If I HAD planned it, something would have gone wrong.  Today some things did go wrong but I wasn't about to allow it to ruin my perfection and to be honest, days full of perfection feel a lot better than days of planning imperfection.

Happy Mother's Day to all those who remembered to live their perfection even if it wasn't planned!

 

Mother's Day

Tomorrow is Mother's Day.  I have two.  Makes me doubly blessed...but in reality its so much more than that.  I am blessed by my mother's.  Both of them.  One for giving me life.  One for raising me in it.  I am blessed by my past through my grandmothers, two who have passed and one I can still call.  I get my strength and stubbornness from them.  I get my ability to stay true to my convictions, even in the face of adversity from all these incredible women, but that isn't it.  There are aunts.  All of them whom have taught me something.  Perhaps they lived with me as an infant, perhaps as a toddler, perhaps I didn't meet them until  was 18.  In any case, they all have a piece of me from them...I am pretty certain my Aunt Claudia will denounce any of the negative qualities I have ;)  but maybe I have learned to have more of a sense of humor from her.  There have been cousins.  A few in particular who have taught me.  In their lives, in their actions.  Then there are the people that have probably taught me the most out of anyone......and they aren't mother figures, they made me a Mother.  This Mother's Day, I am proud to be the mother to 4 amazing children here on earth, one heavenly angel and one wonderbundle brewing within.  Its simply my best Mother's Day yet.

 

 

 

 

Adoption (CONTROVERSIAL)

In the past 33 years (since I was adopted), adoption has changed both internationally and nationally.  The changes made have never really said anything to me personally but as I have watched, I have continued to sit back and wonder is this another area that we must look at and ask ourselves, are we moving forward to better life or are we just making changes to make things better here on earth?  Truly are we living for this life or are we focused on what we seek in the future, eternal rest?

In 1979, when my mother got word that I was available she and my father had been waiting and saving for years.  They had baby rooms planned in their heads, they watched as tiny children ran around beside them wherever they went.  They shared joy as other family members welcomed new life.  Struggling to give birth to their own biological children my parents turned to God and asked him to create the family that was best for them.  On that hot August day when my parents arrived to pick me up, the sheer joy my mother felt in the blessing and opportunity to be called "mom" is something I can never understand.  We, as biological mothers wait 9 months for a child to be born, certainly sometimes more with trying to conceive and pregnancy loss but 10 years is beyond my personal understanding.  My mom, so filled with joy could not put me down.  She held me as my dad carefully navigated the roads back to their quaint home near the lake.  What was to come never crossed her mind.  She lived in that moment and felt the presence of the gift of life in her arms.  She never knew who my birthmother was or who the woman was that carried this life but she assumed with the notations from the agency that she was someone special, from a special family.

Since that time when closed adoptions were common (almost exclusive outside familial adoption) things have changed. There are new options for adoptions that allow adoption to be more fluent, easier to achieve and more common to see.  This is great.  Or is it?

Open adoptions have changed the culture of adoption.  There are opportunities for relationships with biological families but what does this do to the child who is adopted?  Do the feelings surface every time the child anticipates a letter, a call, a visit?  When the birth parents leave is there pain?  How do the adoptive parents who must assimilate the children back into their everyday lives as they question their value and reasoning as to why they have been adopted or why they have the opportunity to "know" their parents when they have to return home with another set of parents?

This is all based on what I have seen through other families who have adopted in more recent years.  Then there is the ability to adopt outside the United States, to give a child from another country a better chance.  It can be done well.  I have a friend in Texas who amazes me with the love, desire and devotion for her little one that she yearned for when she and I first met.  I have also seen it turn into a propaganda or because its easier or even worse, because they are trying to fill a void, trying to make their family "more complete", trying to seek out personal gratification as a parent.

In recent time I have seen a number of articles about parents returning those babies because adoption wasn't what they expected.  These children, who are sometimes adopted at birth, other times adopted later in life, come with baggage.  Yes, each child is a question when we welcome them into our lives but those who are adopted have a little extra to deal with.  There are numerous studies that show emotionally, we adoptees bear a loss, similar to the death of a parent when we are placed into the arms of our adoptive parents.  For months, we had the voice of our birthmother.  For months we heard her heart beating.  For months we felt her love, even when she may have known our life was not intended.  After those months, and the birth experience we are whisked away into another family's arms.  They love us.  Unconditionally.  Or do they?

Yesterday yet another article surfaced about a mother realizing she would not make a good adoptive mother so she returned the child.  I posted the controversial article because it ate at me.  This was yet another person who adopted for the wrong reasons.  She chose to adopt for her own selfish needs.  She struggled with infertility and felt adoption would heal her.  Adoption isn't meant to heal the parents.  Adoption is meant to become parents to children who need additional healing.  These children need additional love.  They need additional care and concern that only carefully chosen parents should be able to welcome.

So is this mean?  Perhaps, but its true.  The reason adoption is such a struggle, the reason there are so many hoops, so many challenges is because parenting isn't easy and parenting an adopted child is that much tougher.  When done well, these children flourish.  These children heal their hurts.  These children become amazing adults who will go on to challenge and change the world, but adoption isn't for the parents, its for the selfless adults who realize that you must wait, you must jump through hoops, you must feel sadness and pain to reach the realization of your child.  And if that isn't something you can manage, if that isn't something you can bear, that isn't something you should seek out. 

So, for all my friends who are about to smack me, feel free, but until you have walked the shoes of an adoptee, until you have been through counseling to heal the pain, until you have been adopted, don't tell me what is right. Sometimes the truth hurts and to be truthful adoption is no fairy tale. 

Finding the Good in the Not So Great

Today I found out my second oldest, our Fun Sized gal actually didn't have strep like first diagnosed on Tuesday but is probably battling the same virus my week gal was taken out with last week for 7 days.  My heart seemed to give out with the thought of the oldest and the youngest also getting it and the possibility of myself contracting it as well. 

I am feeling overwhelmed.  I wish I could say I was taking it in stride but truth be told, I burst into tears after taking 2 hours to make a baptism gift, which I promptly messed up, tried to fix and Gorilla Glued my fingers to.

The last three weeks have been dotted with illness, and when I told my husband I was tired of it last night, he told me I wanted a big family. I suppose this comes with the territory.  Ups.  Downs.  Struggles.  Smooth sailing but in the end, we're blessed.

I am blessed because I don't have a career outside the home.  I certainly miss my old career at times and wish I had more "thank you notes" like I used to received after weddings and events but we don't have to worry about childcare when our kids go down for the count. I make the beds, fill the waters bottles, turn on the TV, read, pass out Popsicles and collect bags of puke.  My husband can continue on in his career uninterrupted (except for those rare occasions that I get the ickies myself).  This is a blessing.

My children, outside the flu, the viruses, the bacterial infections are healthy.  Period.  My children have no major illnesses.  They do not struggle physically with any ailments and their traditional growth continues on without any sickness their little bodies have to ward off.  THIS is also a blessing.  A big one.

I have friends who let me vent.  They listen, remind me how it will pass and allow me to be a little sad that we are stuck at home for the third week in a row.  They too in fact are stuck at home too.  Sickness in their house.  Living the same life I am.  Understanding exactly what I am going through, so even though I am alone with the kids, I am not alone.  They get me. 

I also have parents willing to help. Last week when my youngest gal was down for the count, my mom and dad drove eight hours to help me.  I was in a bad place.  I was worried about my wee one battling a fever of 105.  I was worried about my others getting it.  I was worried about my pregnancy and how it may affect it.  They came in, helped and allowed me to get breaks.  It was a blessing.  It was a gift.  A gift better than any tangible present I could have ever accepted.

The biggest blessing of all, is one I am contemplating because I have friends that would do anything to be a mom.  I am.  A mom.  One who wipes bottoms, clears tables, cleans houses almost 24 hours a day.  I have had the blessing of being pregnant 6 times. I have had the blessing of giving birth to 4 amazing children.  I have the blessing of being called mommy....even when mommy seems to be overwhelmed.

So today, I am looking hard.  Looking hard for the good in the not so great, and hopefully tomorrow will be even better.

I hope on days when you are down, days when you feel like you can't move forward, you too will find the good in the not so great.  It took me a bit but I did today.

Happiness...

Will Never Come to Those Who Don't Appreciate What They Have.....

I read this quote this morning as the sun shone brightly in the sky and I had just finished 20 minutes of Pilates, all before my husband handed me a steaming cup of coffee.  It was the beginning of the day that I had hoped for.  Laundry was in.  My children were here with me and my husband was willing to hit the post office for me so I didn't have to drag all four.  Outside of the wee one sleeping within my womb (I love to wake to baby kicks), my day began perfectly.  With happiness.  With contentment.

What about those days that don't start out so happily?  What about the days when the sun doesn't come up over the mountains and you wonder how you'll make it through?  Those days hit me too and sometimes they hit me harder than I ever want to acknowledge.

I am a glass half empty kind of girl.  Instead of living with and dealing with the moment, I allow everything that has happened in my life to dwell with in the back of my mind and sometimes I forget to be happy sometimes one must create happy. 

Life isn't always perfect.  This weekend we got some terrible news.  Its not my news to share, so I won't but I am looking at my mom with hurt and sadness in her eyes and I want to just fix it.  Since I can't fix it, I just want to run away.  Fight or flight.  See ya!  For once, instead of my mom consoling me, it was me who had to act like I had any wisdom, and perhaps the news wasn't so bad because it reminded me that we need to find joy and happiness in each day. 

This isn't the first time I have gotten this wake up call.  I am sure you all recall my stories of Clare.  Its not uncommon for me to remind the kids, we have today.  Live it Like Clare!  Are you happy?  Are you sharing joy?  Are you loving? 

Who are you today?  These little signs keep coming up in my life.  First of course, Clare.  She changed my life immensely.  I don't have all the words to carefully share what her illness, her battle and her conquering our crazy world with love, grace and perseverance really taught me.  I seriously don't have the ability to put it into words.  Since then though its been smaller things.  Then, last week, it was the news we got of a dear family member.  Her strength, positive attitude and ability to love with a firm hand will always remain close to me.  At my toughest times, she hugged me, she loved me and she cared, even when caring wasn't so easy because I wasn't easy to care for.  Then yesterday, my kids finished dance.  We stopped at the library and a woman, who reminded me of my Mother In Law followed us out.  She had no books and part of me wondered why she was there.  She watched my kids frolicking in the long grass and noted how wonderful it was to watch them.  I looked back and smiled "they find joy in nothing".  She then said "don't you?"  "I'm working on it." I responded.  "I worry too much".  She told me to get rid of that worry.  Then this morning I saw the happiness quote.  Today I did my morning a little differently.  I got up, had time for me and felt joy.  I felt happy and had faith that today might not be perfect but I could create joy.  Happiness.  Good feelings in my house.

The last sign that God was challenging m to find joy and happiness was a prayer.  It was posted by a friend on a Catholic Mom's Site.  "Father, help us to be the kind of parent, spouse, friend, and even stranger who shows people their potential to serve You."

It was perfect for today.  I find joy, happiness and peace in serving others but how many times do I turn away from that opportunity to serve others for what feels like my own gratification and find myself in sorrow.  Today my friend, I challenge you.  Serve others.  Create happiness.  Find joy.  For we all have today.  We are not promised tomorrow.

Where Are We Letting Our Lives Go?

I am certain SOME people are sick of my continued rants about life.  The gift of life, the opportunity in life, and the struggles we each face in life but truly, we have so much to be aware of one post isn't sufficient. 

Two days ago we learned of the ability for individuals to purchase a life ending drug over the counter at the age of 15.  I am and was appalled.  I stood stunned that our government has allowed for this to occur.  I am amazed we, as a society have allowed our government to take over our parenting and enable our children to choose life or potential death prior to being able to vote, consume alcohol, move out of their parents home legally or even drive a car.  Two days ago, our government gave CHILDREN that right.

My husband, very pragmatic in all he does reminded me that the FDA approving this drug is NOT giving children the okay but only stating that this drug is safe enough that it can be permitted in a drugstore setting, easily accessible at 15.  Is it really?  What are the ramifications?  I have considered a few potential concerns.

We are giving our children one more reason to assume sex is safe, okay, permitted.  Yes, I know, teenagers have sex.  Yes, I know that they will with or without parental consent.  I get it.  I also know that we have seen the rise of teen sexually transmitted diseases since the introduction of birth control and I personally believe that we will continue to see an upswing by giving children this "emergency" contraceptive at their finger tips.

We are also taking the talking out of family.  If a 15 year old wants to have sex, he or she may.  If he or she chooses this and then reconsiders or worries they made a mistake, perhaps they may come to their parents with their fears and concerns.  At that point, the parents can openly dialogue with them regarding their experiences and hopefully guide them to return to waiting until they are older, if not until they are married.

We are also unable to predict what use, overuse, overdosing or continued exposure to this drug will do to children in the future.  The fertility of their bodies when they are truly ready to conceive?  Will this cause an increased risk for cancer?  We do know that certain STD's do increase your chance of developing cancer, so if they are more willing to participate in sexual activity will we not see a increase in cervical cancer with the introduction of this drug into mainstream society?

These are just a few of the possibilities that don't even touch the big picture or exactly where our society may go if we continue to let these types of drugs into our mainstream life.  In the last 40 years we have seen a great demise in society.  First with the permitted abortion.  Since its introduction, we have missed 56,176,423 children in the United States alone.  Could one of these children change the world significantly?  My guess is yes, perhaps many could.  Yes, their lives may not have been easy, they may have changed the life of those who had to give birth to them, but they were humans we have allowed to die.  Since the introduction of abortion legally in the US in 1973, our society has changed.  Our family life has changed and our mindset has changed.  We need to realize that we must work to keep our society moving in a positive manner and allowing opportunities for children to choose life over death, sex over abstinence at younger and younger ages means that our country will suffer, our society will suffer, our future will suffer.

We must reclaim our lives.  We must stand up to things we believe are wrong and we must raise our voices to be heard because when we do not, we are letting our lives go.

Where the F*&K is my Mommy Manual?

Nine years ago, I was the mom of the year. Seriously. Kids loved me and I was often told "you should have twelve of those". I have mentioned before I also had a full time career, nanny and Porsche Cayenne. Now, I am rockin the Odyssey and struggling to keep sane while maintaining friendships, keeping my marriage up and hanging on to any part of me that once was.

Through tears yesterday I told my husband "I feel under appreciated". Yes, I said this only 4 days after coming home from my Mother's Retreat away overnight. I enjoyed myself but when I returned to reality the week started with fevers, throw up and the exclamation that yesterday was "the wost day in my hoe entiwe wife".

It was take your child to work day and because of it, I had two less children than I normally tote around. This year's home school experience has been eye opening as a simple trip to the grocery store with two or three is compounded by one or two extra kids wander and touching nearly everything. Don't get me wrong, my kids are good and often rewarded for things like "being cute", "having good behavior" or commended on their intelligence, but still, the woman behind it all stands in the shadows sometimes only hearing "what is wrong with him?" "why is she acting that way?" "do you know how you get that many kids?".

The answer is, I am the one they lean on. I am the one that does the good but messes up to. I am real. I don't wear make up everyday, and sometimes I am dragging myself around donning sweats hoping no one mistakes them for my pajama's. At times, I miss my career. Sure, it was hard but at the same time I was rewarded. Financially and emotionally when I received accolades from clients and every once in a blue moon, my boss.

After hear it was going to be the four year olds "wost day in my (her) hoe entiwe wife" I was bound and determined to save the day. It was shortly before 8:30 a.m. and though the small boy was screaming since 5:30 a.m. I was certain to turn things around with daily mass. The older congregants all meant well as they told me "you have your hands full", "wow, another?" "God Bless You". Inside I was wanting to cry. Shoving the comments to the side, I loaded the kids in the car, blasted some Taylor Swift and headed to the mall for some fun with the wee ones. Upon arrival, as I was setting up my Phil and Ted's (I hate that thing), the four year old curiously came to find me narrowly missing being hit by another mom out joy shopping on a day when she had less kids than normal thanks to this National Program. After collecting myself we buckled in and headed to the mall. As I picked up the front end to get up on the sidewalk the wheel fell off. So picture, a woman, slightly pregnant trying to maneuver the stroller up enough to put the wheel back on without flipping the stroller and causing closed head injuries to the occupants. As mother's walked by smiling, I wondered "are they laughing?" or "do they understand?". I went with the latter and continued my walk into the mall fully intending to hit Starbucks first. While waiting in line a wonderful old man looked at the kids and then my belly and noted "You know how that happens right? You playing Vatican Roulette?" Actually sir, we are Catholic, and yes, we know how it happens...my husband really likes it. He grew very quiet. I wondered if I overstepped but for pete's sake, sir???? Really???? Vatican Roulette???? Brushing that off too we headed to Build A Bear and I delighted in watching my sweet girl build her first "bear" or My Little Pony as she chose. She was delighted to experience the wonder of the fluff machine and we were saddened to hear the store was closing May 19. After, I realized I had to get to the bathroom. I wasn't able to stop, pass go, look anywhere else, or choose anything else, I had to get to the bathroom. As I whisked the stroller to the bathroom, purse over the shoulder I was totally lucky to get the big bathroom, kids and all. Within an instant, my darling child, enamoured with her Pinkie Pie began to exclaim "something smells", "Mommy the baby pooped", "Someone stinks". At this moment, I should have waved my white flag. Really, I should have looked for the nearest day care, found out about daily care and given up because this perfect day I had planned was somewhere between Warren and Hunterdon Counties and I was wondering where my good intentions went. After sheepishly finishing up in the restroom (which my husband thinks should become a comedy routine), I stopped at one last place. Crumb. Cupcakes. My favorite. And it was going to be a special treat. And then, the wheel once again fell off and I once again wondered exactly what to do. I carefully put it back together, took my treats and headed to the car. The sweet boy screamed wondering why he could have CAKE right now and the four year old shouted that she needed to eat or she would die. At that moment I put the two in the car and decided that I needed to look at the good, so we went over all the nice things. "Do you remember church? It was a nice mass. Father wore red." "Did you have fun at Build A Bear? I really like your Pinkie Pie.". "Where would you like to go to eat?" As we drove off, the boy fell asleep and the girl noted that the "High Diner" also known as The Fine Diner was the ONLY acceptable location for a special lunch, so we headed to Clinton trolling the street for a spot. Nine circles later we found it. I pulled in and we had lunch. The boy, still unhappy from his days tremendous trials fussed a bit through the meal and soon we finished up.

As I drove home I asked how the day was. This was my mistake. The girl noted "this was a bad day". I was deflated. Where the F*&K was my mommy manual because somehow in all my efforts to make it right it seemed to not be any good at all.