The Worst Adoptive Mama on the Planet

Quietness and darkness have enveloped our home.  Only because it’s 4:35 a.m.  Our house is rarely quiet, rarely dark and rarely active at this time of the morning.  It has been one week since my car accident that has driven me to sleep on the couch (I couldn’t even THINK of climbing stairs for the first four days home).  And as much as I love sleeping with my husband, I love sleeping …. without fearing that he will kick my battered legs, bump my aching arms, yank the sheets against my seatbelt bruises on my neck or snore and make me crabby.  I’m starting to understand why my grandparents had separate rooms.  (Don’t worry, Honey, I’ll come back upstairs eventually.)  Aching arms woke me up in these wee hours… and it’s not time for the wonder drugs yet.  The fact that I can wait it out gives me hope that I’m not completely addicted to pain killers. Even in weariness, I have some level of self control.

My six year old habitual pastime of reading adoption blogs is still a passion of my soul.  It always will be.  Reading about a young couple tonight faced with infertility who have chosen a child in Ethiopia makes my adoptive mama heart beat with glee.  Another baby will have a mama.  Another daddy will cry tears of joy.  Another child will be placed by God and the nightmares might just fade a wee bit, making life a better place.  A safer place.

As an adoptive mama, I have had the normal adoptive mama fears that I am the worst adoptive mama on the planet.  I have cut off the Colombian princess from sugar at times, even sending her to bed with no cake!  Imagine!!!  I have sent her to her room when I couldn’t think of answering one more question about heaven.  I have not taken her to Disneyland.  I won’t buy her cute clothes just because they are cute, when her stuffed closet has more than enough.  I am sure I have been caught on surveillance tapes more than a dozen times in the Walmart parking lot saying, “We are not here to buy anything for you today.”  And I’ve wondered if she was in a different home, would she be granted more stuff and have more privileges.  I have expressed this self-doubt to other mamas and one in particular has told me again and again, “You are the perfect mama God chose for your girl.  She is in the right home.  You are the right mama. You are loving her just the way she needs to be loved.”  And it does my heart good for about three minutes and then the doubts return.

The before mentioned car accident was actually a glimpse into my “good adoptive mama” side that I needed to see.  The crash happened in the blink of an eye.  The air bags exploded.  Stinky smoke filled the van. And all I could think to do was jump out of my door which only opened half way to get to my nine-year-old baby in the seat behind me.  We hugged each other and balled our eyes out together.  She was not hurt.  I quickly realized that my legs were not fine and I was needing to sit back down.  Yes, the metal hitting metal sounds were ghastly and hurt our ears, but I believe what scared her the most was hearing me cry for the first time.  The ugly cry with snorts and uncontrollable guttural sounds. She kept reaching up and touching my shoulders in the front seat. Through the tears and pain, we bonded at a deeper level.

On my girl scout sash of life, I feel like I earned my “Unconditional Adoptive Mama Love” badge.  And my bruised body is a mere side effect of the stamp of approval on my heart.

Back to Reality

My husband, daughter and eldest son have been gone to California for three days of Disney and the beach.  They will be home tomorrow morning… REALLY early while I’m still sleeping.

Wanting to try the other side of the fence where the grass is supposed to be greener, I lived these three days like THEY usually do when I’m gone.  I didn’t clean a thing.  The dishes stacked up 8 or 9 high.  The groceries are still in the bags on the counter from shopping two days ago.  We ate ice cream for dinner…. and peanut butter straight from the jar.  (like cavemen)  The kitchen table has everything on it that has been there since they left, plus the new things that Keeve and I added.  And after this brief experiment…. I don’t get it.  Being lazy is no fun.  Why would anyone willingly leave the house to chaos?  What’s the purpose?  Tonight I stepped into their shoes again and cleaned everything until sweat ran down the sides of my head, just like when I was a little girl playing HARD!  It wasn’t fun.  It took a long time.  It’s still not done.  I still don’t get it.

I’m back to being a clean example for my family tomorrow.  I think I’ll have to swear Keeve to secrecy.  He was a trooper and dried dishes while I washed dishes…. from five days ago.  I think every pot and pan was dirty.  Gross.  I don’t get it.  Anyone?

Small Things Amaze Small Minds

Here is a list of the current things amusing the three men in my home:  (ages 42, 12 & 10)

1.  Recording their voices speaking low and slow into a hand held tape recorder and playing it back at fast and slow speeds.  Seriously, they are killing themselves laughing right now… all three of them.  It makes them talk like Yoda     with    spaces    between    the    words.

2.  Sucking helium balloons and talking like Mickey Mouse.  We were at my niece’s jr. high graduation and they stole the decorations and sucked air in the van all the way home.  And they ALWAYS yell in the squeaky voice, “I’m going to Disneyland!”

3.  Laughing like clowns in funny vibrato voices until everyone is laughing.  Keeve is the master at this one.  He sounds like Woody Woodpecker having an attack of the laughs.

Here is a list of the current things amusing the two women in my home: (ages 43 & 15)

1.  Asking Rick over and over why we have to drive 5 miles to pick up free flea treatment for our dog that doesn’t have fleas.  Seriously, I asked him this three or four times and he was getting mad at me, because he was distracted and doing something else on the computer at the time, and didn’t realize I was egging him on.  Larisa and I thought it was hilarious.  I kept saying, “But she doesn’t have fleas!”  He kept insisting, “But we take her places!” 

2.  Listening to Rick explain how he knew he was eating macaroni and cheese because he saw the box!  I told Larisa it was perfectly al dente and Rick refused to believe me… IT WAS MAC-N-CHEESE….. not al dente… HE SAW the BOX!  He was not going to be fooled by his women!  Again, Larisa and I couldn’t stop laughing…. at my dear husband’s expense.

Never a dull moment here at the Crosby house.

Hotel Amenities

Yes, we are in Anaheim, my two girlfriends and our three teenage daughters.  The girls are attending the Revolve Tour and got to meet Hawk Nelson last night (a Christian rock band from Canada).  They were thrilled.  Forty-five minutes of their five hours in California Adventures yesterday was spent helping three-year-old Mason find his mom and dad.  Talk about horror at Disney for that poor family.  The girls said the mom was hysterically crying…. as expected.  Anyway, it all turned out, fortunately.  Our girls found security and reported the kid’s name…. that was thankfully sewn on the back of his Mickey Mouse ears.

On to hotel amenities….  one of the choice amenities this establishment has to offer, as is expected these days, is HIGH speed Internet.  Well, this is a farce.  There ain’t nothin’ highspeedy about this connection.  I’ve typed this blog up until now and my email page still hasn’t loaded…. good grief.  And there should be an international thickness regulator for oatmeal.  Good grief, again.  This stuff was like weak soup with the occasional oat flake.  Being that I’m with two of the pickiest eaters on God’s green earth, the management was notified of the oversight on the breaky buffet, but alas, this morning there was not much of an improvement. We can’t complain, though.  The room is decent…. minus the few bugs that we’ve located and killed.  The location is KEY, which is why we picked this place. 

And a special bonus for us… there is a “Gamers” convention going on across the street.  So, needless to say, if you’re not wearing black, you’re so not cool.  We’re not cool.  We keep wondering what in the world they do at a gamers convention?  Play games?  Watch video clips of how to beat the latest games???  Meet people dressed up like the mythical characters in the make-believe video games???  They’re here.  We’ve seen them.  Makes me wonder.

OH!  Yesterday Jill dragged us through Mexico City, right here in Anaheim.  It is the oldest indoor swap meet in the world, or so they say.  We did purchase some unique items for those we love, as well as taking cell phone pictures of lizards on skulls, wacky sunglasses and the general folklore that surrounds Mexico… right here in the good ol’ USA.

We dropped the girls off this morning and we’re off to the beach.  Wooo HOooo.  This is just like Thelma and Louise on their vacation: carefree,  wonderful, and the beach.  Oh to feel the sand between my freezing toes. 

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