Stiletto

Just a mom raising The Boy (adopted from Guatemala) along with my fabulous husband (MFH). I am a shoe whore, especially of the high heeled variety. Hence, the nickname.

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

I hate to even open this can of worms

When we decided to adopt our son I never gave much thought to the possible differences between us that are related to DNA.

When you have a bio child I suppose you say things like, "He gets his athletic ability from his dad" or "She would trip over her own feet just like her mom".

Or, yep - he is MENSA material just like his parents.

Right now we are struggling at our house. The Boy just doesn't get math. His dad is a mathematical genius and I was in advanced math all through high school. (Although I sucked at geometry and I don't care who knows it. It was a stupid class.)

I got out of him tonight that he talks and goofs off during math so he can bring it home and we'll help him with it. But he admitted, it's too hard.

We are both just sick about it. We spent 2 hours on math homework tonight and didn't even get it finished. I want to get him the help he needs and intend to start the wheels rolling in that direction tomorrow.

And I know there's no guarantee that our bio child would be a math whiz.

But I do have to wonder.

Friday, September 17, 2010

Lunch

Everyday The Boy takes the same thing for lunch - two pieces of salami and two pieces of Tillamook Cheddar cheese cut exactly to fit four Big Wheat Thin crackers.

Add in a fruit snack pack or chips, plus a drink.

That is all.

I'd hate for you to think that I raised a picky eater. It's not my fault. Really. When I was growing up, we ate what was on the table. Period. Or we went without and ate that same meal for lunch the next day. And dang it, if it was good enough for me.....

So this year dad made a rule that he had to eat cafeteria lunch at least two days a week. After all, they offer three different entrees each day. Find something you can eat.

Well who knew that a chicken patty sandwich was just a BIG ROUND CHICKEN NUGGET if you throw away the bun?

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

The rest of the story

I must have looked as if I was going to cry (and who wouldn't???) because he crawled into my lap. I was honest with him like I always am in matters such as this.

"Honey, we really have no way of knowing for sure because we didn't meet your birthmother, but your paperwork says that she just couldn't afford to take care of you. The people of Guatemala work very hard for not much money. According to the papers, she made in one whole month about what mommy makes in one hour at work. So you see, she couldn't buy diapers or formula or clothing or any of the things that a baby needs. I'm very sure she loved you and she thought she was doing the very best thing she could do for you by letting us be your parents."

There is more, but I know he couldn't process it. I don't know how we'll ever share all of it with him - but I've heard that sometimes the social workers just made up a story to appease the officials. Who knows. It's all we have.

He asked if I know her name. Then he told me he's happy he came here to be our son.

And he hasn't brought it up since.

Monday, September 06, 2010

He caught me off-guard

We have always shared our son's life beginning with him on a level that we felt he could understand at the time. There hasn't been a lot of conversation about it and honestly, he's been mostly disinterested.

Last night out of the blue I got this question.

"Mom, why didn't my birthmother keep me?"

Friday, September 03, 2010

Now I'm just annoyed

It's the last official weekend of summer.

The Boy's trip was canceled, and we didn't plan to go camping because of the trip. It's okay, though - we have plenty of work to do around home, and our hockey player just returned for the season.

My MIL bought supplies to finish the inside of the garage at their house since everyone was going to be here this weekend. Only now, everyone is not going to be here this weekend. So tomorrow my husband is going out there to do the job himself.

Some good friends of ours are having a pool party at their home.

The Boy and I will be attending without my fabulous husband, who will be spending this entire last weekend of summer doing not only the garage, but trying to find time to finish moving the fence to our property line before the farmer next to us sells his land along with a 14 foot wide strip of land that belongs to us but his fence is on it.

End of rant.

For now.