Open

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.

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.

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.

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.

How To Celebrate, continued

7. Shop at new Crate & Barrel store
8. Take self out for yummy lunch
9. Enjoy pampering at swanky day spa; feel like spoiled housewife; soak up compliments that you "don't look 40" from technicians who are hoping for big tips (it works)
10. Walk to car in disposable flip-flops so as not to ruin pedicure; drive home
11. Eat big old burger at favorite family-type restaurant while 2 year old blissfully stuffs her face with mac & cheese
12. Fall into bed exhausted and happy

How To Celebrate Your Birthday, The 40-Year Edition

1. Get up with 2 year old at 5:15, lay on couch while she sits on you watching Caillou, drift off to sleep until she shifts her weight, then practically jump off the couch from being startled
2. Fix 2-year old breakfast, make her lunch, get her dressed, see her and hubs out the door
3. Fold a load of laundry while watching the Today show (I SWORE I wasn't going to do any housework, but I couldn't help it; I promise that's all I'll do)
4. Take shower, shave legs so as to not disgust massage therapist this afternoon
5. Dry hair, put on makeup, get dressed, gather laptop, leave house
6. Go to Panera to write and end up on Facebook for two hours instead

To be continued...

2009 is off to a bit of an odd start. I just discovered how FREAKING GOOD celery dipped in red pepper hummus is. I already knew that I liked hummus, especially if it's got olives or garlic or red peppers in it, but celery? Who'd a thunk? I have carrots and crackers here, too, but they're just not as good.

And no, I am not dieting. But I did bring my lunch today, and it was (mostly) healthy. And I am planning to make use of my Y membership this week. I've committed to going one time this week. I know better than to proclaim in the first week of January that I'm going to work out five times. Once it is, and I will be happy with that.