Thursday, February 26, 2009

My Album

Yes, I'm posting twice in one day. Anyhoo, this cracks me up. It's a Facebook thing.

What would your own album look like if you were in a band?

Follow the directions below and find out...Here are the rules:

1 - Go to Wikipedia. Hit “random”or click first random Wikipedia article you get is the name of your band.
2 - Go to Quotations Page and select "random quotations"or click last four or five words of the very last quote on the page is the title of your first album.
3 - Go to Flickr and click on “explore the last seven days”or click picture, no matter what it is, will be your album cover.
4 - Use Photoshop or similar to put it all together.

I don't have Photoshop on this computer, so I just used Paint. Here's my album:

Obviously, my band is some sort of eastern European/British new wave hybrid. Pick it up today -- A Good Deal of Rubbish -- new from Bank of Slovenia.


I added some new blogs to my Sites I Like section to the right. I found some fantastic blogs written by moms who've adopted -- they're smart, funny and real. One is Production, Not Reproduction and the writer of that one is inviting anyone who blogs about open adoption to join her blogroll. Hence, the pretty new button at the top of this page.

I've written a bit about adoption here, but not about open adoption. We do indeed have an open adoption -- open can mean anything from knowing the birth mother's name to having frequent visits with both birth parents. For us, it means that I know who Lauren's birth mother is (I know who her birth father is too, but that's a story for another day). We met her before she gave birth. We were in the hospital room with her within an hour after she gave birth. We hung out with her on and off for the two days she was in the hospital, even though our social worker yelled at us for doing that. We send her pictures whenever we get new ones of Lauren. And she's been to our house four or five times to visit.

The concept of open adoption tends to freak most people out. They think it's giving the birth parents too much power, or that it's unhealthy, or that the birth parents could "take away" the child. I wasn't sure exactly how I felt about it when we started the adoption process, but I have come to understand a few things -- that a child can never have too many people who love her. That Bret and I are the mom and dad and we call the shots -- if we ever think it's a bad idea for Lauren to see her birth mother, we won't allow it (thankfully this has not been the case). And, from my own experience I know that it's better to have things out in the open. My parents divorced when I was three, my mom remarried when I was five, and no one ever spoke of my birth father again. There were no visits, cards or phone calls. It was as if this part of my life was a dirty secret I was not to think about. But of course I did think about it. And thought there must be something wrong with me if no one would talk to me about it So I just want Lauren to know all about where and who she comes from -- it's her story, and the way we became a family is not a dirty secret.

I don't claim to have all the answers on open adoption. I don't know what the future holds as far as a relationship for Lauren with her birth family. But I will always be honest with her about the people and circumstances surrounding her birth, her family, our family.

Friday, February 20, 2009

The Short Bus

The highlight of my week -- nay, my month -- is that I was assigned to a parking lot closer to work. For 10 months I've had to take three highways, drive past the hospital, park in a lot downtown and take a shuttle the other direction, back to the hospital. The shuttle came every 20 minutes, so if I missed one that had just left, I could be sitting there quite a while waiting for another one to arrive. This made my commute about 2-1/2 hours a day, which drove me insane. Such a waste of time. And in the evenings I would fly in the door at 6:15 or so and slam some pans around trying to make dinner as fast as I could because I had a toddler saying "Mama, num-nums!" over and over.

The new lot is still not on-site; I still have to take a shuttle. But I only take one highway to work, park quite close to the hospital and the shuttle arrives every 10 minutes. This is going to save me 40-60 minutes a day in commuting. I am giddy.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

More Ways In Which It Is Not 1976

It’s starting already. I opened Lauren’s school bag this morning to find Valentines from her classmates (their party was on Friday and since she only goes on Tuesdays and Thursdays, she didn’t get her stuff until yesterday). I had sent cute, age-appropriate Valentine cards for all the kids in her class. Nearly all the other parents sent Valentine PRESENTS. Candy, toys, homemade cookies, even a heart-shaped water bottle. Now I look like the cheapo, dork mom who doesn’t know the protocol of Val Day.

These are two year olds, people! If this is what we’re doing now, what the heck is it going to be like by the fourth grade? I’ve only met a couple of the parents and they seem nice enough. But by giving stuff, instead of just cards, are we all trying to impress one another? I really want to try to avoid all that one-upping each other I hear that parents do with over-the-top birthday parties, bringing gifts when the invitation clearly says not to, etc. But you better believe I would’ve thrown in a little piece of candy or something had I known everyone else was going to give gifts. Just to avoid looking like a moron.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Yes, I am the world's worst blogger. The inability to post something seems to have struck many of the bloggers I follow, too. Winter blahs, maybe? Dunno.

Anyway, same old, same old around here. Commuting, work, commuting, kid stuff, TV, laundry, sleep. Lots of snow, then lots of rain. Another cold that's hanging on. Death of the hot water heater. Loss of a large tree branch during ice storm. Toddler talking up a storm, the highlight of my days.

My dear friends came for a weekend visit and belated birthday celebration. Lauren joined in. A good day.