Last night Miss Little One disappeared shortly before bedtime. She's mastered the art of making herself scarce around that time every night, so I didn't think much of it, until I noticed the shepherd, the infant Jesus, and a donkey missing from the nativity.
I found Miss Little One in her room and she informed me (with an unmistakable tone of authority) that she couldn't go to bed just yet. "I'm very busy adopting them."
What does it mean to adopt them, Sweetheart?
"It means they grew for me in another mother's tummy so I can be their mother. And Daddy and I love them bigger than the moon."
I let her stay up way past bedtime. Wouldn't you?
Sally Bacchetta
The Adoptive Parent
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Sally Bacchetta's YouTube Channel
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Adopting Snowflakes
People often ask if waiting for our second child is easier than waiting for our first. Absolutely. And no way. It's just different.
I had no frame of reference the first time. I knew I wanted a child, but the want was a general feeling of wanting to grow my family. I wanted a baby to hold, a toddler to play with, a child to teach about faith and integrity.
Now I know the intimacy and intricacy I was missing. Now I know that I want a baby with spring-loaded fingers and translucent eyelids. I want chub-a-licious drumstick thighs and a sweet-smelling head. Now I know that I want a toddler to pee all over the bathroom and mop it up with my pillow and proudly announce "It's OK, Mama. I cweaned it all by myself!" Now I know that I want a child to say "Even when I'm upset, Mama, I always love you."
Now I know what I was missing, and that makes the second wait more painful. At the same time, it's much, much easier waiting for my second child, because I have been blessed with my first. By turns captivating, aggravating, inspiring, and tiring, she will always be My First.
Every adoption experience is different. Every one is unique and beautiful in its way. Just like snowflakes.
Sally Bacchetta
The Adoptive Parent
My Google Profile+
Sally Bacchetta's YouTube Channel
I had no frame of reference the first time. I knew I wanted a child, but the want was a general feeling of wanting to grow my family. I wanted a baby to hold, a toddler to play with, a child to teach about faith and integrity.
Now I know the intimacy and intricacy I was missing. Now I know that I want a baby with spring-loaded fingers and translucent eyelids. I want chub-a-licious drumstick thighs and a sweet-smelling head. Now I know that I want a toddler to pee all over the bathroom and mop it up with my pillow and proudly announce "It's OK, Mama. I cweaned it all by myself!" Now I know that I want a child to say "Even when I'm upset, Mama, I always love you."
Now I know what I was missing, and that makes the second wait more painful. At the same time, it's much, much easier waiting for my second child, because I have been blessed with my first. By turns captivating, aggravating, inspiring, and tiring, she will always be My First.
Every adoption experience is different. Every one is unique and beautiful in its way. Just like snowflakes.
Sally Bacchetta
The Adoptive Parent
My Google Profile+
Sally Bacchetta's YouTube Channel
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Adoption Frame of Mind
Last night my daughter heard me talking on the phone to a friend, Lindsey.
"Who was that, Mama? Lindsey?"
Yes, it was Lindsey.
"Who's Lindsey?"
You know her as Mrs. Carr. She's Abby mother.
"Lindsey is Abby's mother?"
Yes.
(thoughtful frown) "Who's Abby's birth mother?"
Lindsey is her birth mother. Abby came out of her tummy.
(another thoughtful frown) "Do you mean Abby's birth mother and her mother is only one person? It's both Lindsey?"
Yes, Babe.
"Oh, that makes me so sad for Abby. She only has one. Poor Abby!"
Sally Bacchetta
The Adoptive Parent
My Google Profile+
Sally Bacchetta's YouTube Channel
Parenting
Motherhood
"Who was that, Mama? Lindsey?"
Yes, it was Lindsey.
"Who's Lindsey?"
You know her as Mrs. Carr. She's Abby mother.
"Lindsey is Abby's mother?"
Yes.
(thoughtful frown) "Who's Abby's birth mother?"
Lindsey is her birth mother. Abby came out of her tummy.
(another thoughtful frown) "Do you mean Abby's birth mother and her mother is only one person? It's both Lindsey?"
Yes, Babe.
"Oh, that makes me so sad for Abby. She only has one. Poor Abby!"
Sally Bacchetta
The Adoptive Parent
My Google Profile+
Sally Bacchetta's YouTube Channel
Parenting
Motherhood
Saturday, October 4, 2008
"You Can't Imagine Me!"
One of my favorite things about three year-olds is their absolute conviction when using words incorrectly. A recent example is when my daughter - whose paint-the-refrigerator-door-with-ketchup plan I thwarted - planted her hands on her hips and shouted, "You can't imagine me!" and stomped out of the room.
She has no idea how right she is. All the time I dreamed of a child, all the waiting and anticipating, as often as I pictured myself in moments with our child... none of it even comes close to the reality of her.
Sally Bacchetta
The Adoptive Parent
My Google Profile+
Sally Bacchetta's YouTube Channel
Parenting
Motherhood
She has no idea how right she is. All the time I dreamed of a child, all the waiting and anticipating, as often as I pictured myself in moments with our child... none of it even comes close to the reality of her.
Sally Bacchetta
The Adoptive Parent
My Google Profile+
Sally Bacchetta's YouTube Channel
Parenting
Motherhood
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Adoption: Tell Me The Story...
Mama, can you tell me about when God was ready to make me and he knew your body couldn't make a baby, so he put a little tiny Erin seed into Meghan's belly and I grew and grew in Meghan's belly until I was ready to be born and then when I was big enough the doctor helped Meghan push me out, and then she held me and kissed me on my head and named me Erin and told the nurse to call Sally and Dennis and tell them their baby girl is ready? And you and Daddy drove fast and carefully to the hospital with your social worker Barb, and you waited and waited in the room and then suddenly the nurse came in pushing a cart with something in it... and you looked and looked but you only saw blankets and a little bit of brown hair? And then she picked me up and put me in your arms and you cried happy tears and said, "Oh, my baby girl, my baby girl. I'm your Mama and I will always love you" and then Daddy held me and he smiled and smiled at me and said, "I'm your Daddy, and I will always keep you safe." And then you changed my diaper and you were surprised that someone so sweet could smell so stinky? And then you and Daddy tucked me into the car seat with two blankets and a tiny baby hat and you drove all the way home but you stopped at Grandma's on the way and Grandma said, "Whose baby is that? Are you babysitting?" and you and Daddy said, "No, this is our baby Erin. We're adopting her." And Grandma screamed and held me and said, "Oh, what a beautiful girl, beautiful girl. God bless her." And then my cousin Mike was there and he said, "Where did that come from?" and everybody laughed! Except I didn't laugh because I was just a baby so I just kept sleeping. And then when I was bigger Daddy showed me how to hold my bottle by myself. Can you tell me that story, Mama?
Sally Bacchetta
The Adoptive Parent
My Google Profile+
Sally Bacchetta's YouTube Channel
Parenting
Motherhood
Sally Bacchetta
The Adoptive Parent
My Google Profile+
Sally Bacchetta's YouTube Channel
Parenting
Motherhood
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
What No One Tells You
What surprised me most about instant parenthood was the realization that other parents are cruel with a sick sense of humor. Yes. It's true. They make a big production of giving you all kinds of advice - in elevators, at your mailbox, over the dressing room wall, at the gas pump - but what they tell you is the kind of stuff you figure out on your own anyway. "Don't trim your baby's fingernails while she's in the Jolly Jumper." "You have to feed them during the night." OK. Thanks, Ace.
But no one tells you about the stuff that can knock you to your knees if you're not prepared. I came across this piece written by Craig Playstead, a writer and father of three, and I'm gifting it to you so that you can prepare yourself for the real deal of parenting. I think he's absolutely right!
Peace,
Sally
1) The way you view the world changes
When you bring someone into this world, things like global warming, war and women in beer ads have a whole new meaning. You start actually looking at the impact these things have, and what the world will become after you’re dead and gone. Leaving a better place for your kids and grandkids becomes more than just talk.
2) You’ll feel like a failure
There will be times when no matter how hard you try, your kids are never happy. You feel you’re telling them “no” too much, constantly harping on them to clean their room, or dashing their dreams of lowering their brother down the staircase on a rope. While they may complain they don’t have a Wii or that “so and so’s” mom let’s them see PG-13 movies, you need to stick to what you believe in and what you feel is best for your kids.
3) You have no time
This seems obvious, but you can’t believe just how little time you have. You start to measure things out in minutes and seconds. “If he watches Curious George for 20 more seconds, I can go to the bathroom,” or “If his nap lasts another 10 minutes, maybe I can get in a shower today.”
4) Not going to the bathroom by yourself
When your kids are babies, the bathroom is the only place you can get your head together. It’s also one of the only places you can actually read. I read ESPN’s Bill Simmons’ entire book over the course of the week in the bathroom when my youngest was a baby. And then he turned two. If he’s not forcing his way in to watch “how it’s really done” he’s banging on the door screaming “lemme in!” or sliding all his books underneath. There is no peace with toddlers.
5) Parenthood will turn you soft
This one hits the guys especially hard. You’ll find yourself tearing up at any dumb movie that has anything to do with parenthood, and if you have a daughter, don’t be surprised to find yourself playing “My Little Pony” before heading off to work. The icing on the cake is hawking Girl Scout cookies in front of your local grocery store annually.
6) They will embarrass you
This is a big shock, and you’re never ready for it. In your mind, they are perfect little angels; in reality, they’re little people trying to figure out their way in the world. Unfortunately, they say what they want—when they want. It can be something that’s funny like announcing to their pre-school class that Daddy farts all the time, or it can be humiliating like a temper tantrum in a grocery store or having them tell your parents to “get me a toy next time” after opening a gift containing pajamas. You’re prepared for the fact that you’ll embarrass them when they get to a certain age, but you’re never ready to be the one that’s humiliated.
7) Worrying
This is the one that stings from the day your child is born until the day you die. From the start you worry that they’ll stop breathing in their crib, then you obsess about getting the damn car seat in correctly. They get a little older and you worry about them falling down the stairs or choking on a Polly Pocket. As the years go on you lose sleep about dating, not fitting in, or getting into a situation that they can’t handle. Then there are the worries that never go away: providing enough, paying for college or not teaching them the right things. The list goes on and on and on, and it takes a major toll on you. But you worry because you love.
8) You won’t be the parent you think
We all had visions of the kind of parents we would be to our kids. Now, as battle tested Moms and Dads, we’ve heard the prospective parents spouting off advice. Those hollow words of wisdom come even though they’ve never gotten up at three a.m. to do a load of laundry with more vomit on it than a frat house floor. Nor have they tried to cook dinner with a screaming baby in their arms, a toddler doing cartwheels off the couch, and the phone ringing. It usually goes something like this: “I’d never let my kids watch TV before they turn three,” or “I would never raise my voice at my child,” or “My toddler won’t ever eat sweets.” Uh huh, and I said I’d never own a minivan. You have this great picture of the kind of parent you want to be, and how picturesque your family will become. You try to live up to that vision, but you also have to survive. So, snickering at a prospective parent spouting off advice is not only allowed, but encouraged.
9) Sickness
Let’s start with pin worms. They are small parasitic worms that live in the human intestinal track. The worms crawl out of the child’s anus at night and lay their eggs in the diaper, pajamas and other areas around the bed or crib. The eggs are then passed to others and ingested unknowingly. The worst part? You have to go in there and grab them while your kid is asleep. It’s a damn horror show. It’s also not something I had any idea about before having kids. Sick kids take a toll on the entire house. Even the typical cold has taken on a whole new meaning, especially with toddlers. It can require being up in the middle of the night for days in a row, missing work and acting as one giant Kleenex. The numerous slug trails across your shirt are always a nice touch.
10) The feeling of unconditional love
You assume that you’re going to love your kids, but what you end up feeling for them is unlike anything else you’ll ever know. Just a simple smile from your offspring can erase a really crappy day at the office. This is the reason why people rave about having kids while they look exhausted and have a fresh batch of spit-up running down their back.
Craig Playstead is a freelance writer, husband and father of three living in the suburbs of Seattle. In the past he's also been a sports writer, a game writer and a talk show host. You can reach him at playstead@hotmail.com.
Sally Bacchetta
The Adoptive Parent
My Google Profile+
Sally Bacchetta's YouTube Channel
Parenting
Motherhood
But no one tells you about the stuff that can knock you to your knees if you're not prepared. I came across this piece written by Craig Playstead, a writer and father of three, and I'm gifting it to you so that you can prepare yourself for the real deal of parenting. I think he's absolutely right!
Peace,
Sally
1) The way you view the world changes
When you bring someone into this world, things like global warming, war and women in beer ads have a whole new meaning. You start actually looking at the impact these things have, and what the world will become after you’re dead and gone. Leaving a better place for your kids and grandkids becomes more than just talk.
2) You’ll feel like a failure
There will be times when no matter how hard you try, your kids are never happy. You feel you’re telling them “no” too much, constantly harping on them to clean their room, or dashing their dreams of lowering their brother down the staircase on a rope. While they may complain they don’t have a Wii or that “so and so’s” mom let’s them see PG-13 movies, you need to stick to what you believe in and what you feel is best for your kids.
3) You have no time
This seems obvious, but you can’t believe just how little time you have. You start to measure things out in minutes and seconds. “If he watches Curious George for 20 more seconds, I can go to the bathroom,” or “If his nap lasts another 10 minutes, maybe I can get in a shower today.”
4) Not going to the bathroom by yourself
When your kids are babies, the bathroom is the only place you can get your head together. It’s also one of the only places you can actually read. I read ESPN’s Bill Simmons’ entire book over the course of the week in the bathroom when my youngest was a baby. And then he turned two. If he’s not forcing his way in to watch “how it’s really done” he’s banging on the door screaming “lemme in!” or sliding all his books underneath. There is no peace with toddlers.
5) Parenthood will turn you soft
This one hits the guys especially hard. You’ll find yourself tearing up at any dumb movie that has anything to do with parenthood, and if you have a daughter, don’t be surprised to find yourself playing “My Little Pony” before heading off to work. The icing on the cake is hawking Girl Scout cookies in front of your local grocery store annually.
6) They will embarrass you
This is a big shock, and you’re never ready for it. In your mind, they are perfect little angels; in reality, they’re little people trying to figure out their way in the world. Unfortunately, they say what they want—when they want. It can be something that’s funny like announcing to their pre-school class that Daddy farts all the time, or it can be humiliating like a temper tantrum in a grocery store or having them tell your parents to “get me a toy next time” after opening a gift containing pajamas. You’re prepared for the fact that you’ll embarrass them when they get to a certain age, but you’re never ready to be the one that’s humiliated.
7) Worrying
This is the one that stings from the day your child is born until the day you die. From the start you worry that they’ll stop breathing in their crib, then you obsess about getting the damn car seat in correctly. They get a little older and you worry about them falling down the stairs or choking on a Polly Pocket. As the years go on you lose sleep about dating, not fitting in, or getting into a situation that they can’t handle. Then there are the worries that never go away: providing enough, paying for college or not teaching them the right things. The list goes on and on and on, and it takes a major toll on you. But you worry because you love.
8) You won’t be the parent you think
We all had visions of the kind of parents we would be to our kids. Now, as battle tested Moms and Dads, we’ve heard the prospective parents spouting off advice. Those hollow words of wisdom come even though they’ve never gotten up at three a.m. to do a load of laundry with more vomit on it than a frat house floor. Nor have they tried to cook dinner with a screaming baby in their arms, a toddler doing cartwheels off the couch, and the phone ringing. It usually goes something like this: “I’d never let my kids watch TV before they turn three,” or “I would never raise my voice at my child,” or “My toddler won’t ever eat sweets.” Uh huh, and I said I’d never own a minivan. You have this great picture of the kind of parent you want to be, and how picturesque your family will become. You try to live up to that vision, but you also have to survive. So, snickering at a prospective parent spouting off advice is not only allowed, but encouraged.
9) Sickness
Let’s start with pin worms. They are small parasitic worms that live in the human intestinal track. The worms crawl out of the child’s anus at night and lay their eggs in the diaper, pajamas and other areas around the bed or crib. The eggs are then passed to others and ingested unknowingly. The worst part? You have to go in there and grab them while your kid is asleep. It’s a damn horror show. It’s also not something I had any idea about before having kids. Sick kids take a toll on the entire house. Even the typical cold has taken on a whole new meaning, especially with toddlers. It can require being up in the middle of the night for days in a row, missing work and acting as one giant Kleenex. The numerous slug trails across your shirt are always a nice touch.
10) The feeling of unconditional love
You assume that you’re going to love your kids, but what you end up feeling for them is unlike anything else you’ll ever know. Just a simple smile from your offspring can erase a really crappy day at the office. This is the reason why people rave about having kids while they look exhausted and have a fresh batch of spit-up running down their back.
Craig Playstead is a freelance writer, husband and father of three living in the suburbs of Seattle. In the past he's also been a sports writer, a game writer and a talk show host. You can reach him at playstead@hotmail.com.
Sally Bacchetta
The Adoptive Parent
My Google Profile+
Sally Bacchetta's YouTube Channel
Parenting
Motherhood
Sunday, August 3, 2008
The Adoption Exponent
When women tilt their heads and say to me sympathetically, "I'm sorry you never got to experience the joy of pregnancy" I widen my eyes and say "I'm sorry you've never experienced the joy of adoption!" I truly am.
To these women pregnancy is the way to have a child. Two people who (hopefully) love each other join together and create an experience that brings a precious new life to both of them. They imagine anything else is somehow less - the life is less of a miracle, the experience is less profound, the parenting is less something... less secure, less bonded, perhaps less "real."
To me adoption is the exponent of the creation miracle. Adoption takes the superlative event of humanity and makes it even more so. More profound. More breathtaking. More incomprehensible. More everything.
It is the ultimate trust - very often forged by strangers who searched without knowing who they were searching for, yet found each other among everyone in the world. Birth parents and adoptive parents trust each other to be who they seem to be. Each trust the other to weigh their decision with the greatest care, and to speak only what they know to be true. Birth parents trust adoptive parents with the gift of a life they created, and adoptive parents trust birth parents to know their own hearts.
Experiencing adoption is akin to receiving an organ donation or being rescued from a burning building by a complete stranger. It is incredibly humbling to be chosen to receive a birth mother's grace. At the same time it is intoxicating to know that you have the power to change her life forever by accepting her gift.
If you think my life is less because I will not experience pregnancy, please keep that to yourself. And I'll hold private my thought that yours is less because you have not been blessed to witness the purest form of motherhood - sacrificing one's own heart for the sake of your child.
I will live the rest of my days amazed and grateful that our daughter's birth mother had the grace, maturity and love to give her child the life and the mother God intended her to have.
Sally Bacchetta
The Adoptive Parent
My Google Profile+
Sally Bacchetta's YouTube Channel
Parenting
Motherhood
To these women pregnancy is the way to have a child. Two people who (hopefully) love each other join together and create an experience that brings a precious new life to both of them. They imagine anything else is somehow less - the life is less of a miracle, the experience is less profound, the parenting is less something... less secure, less bonded, perhaps less "real."
To me adoption is the exponent of the creation miracle. Adoption takes the superlative event of humanity and makes it even more so. More profound. More breathtaking. More incomprehensible. More everything.
It is the ultimate trust - very often forged by strangers who searched without knowing who they were searching for, yet found each other among everyone in the world. Birth parents and adoptive parents trust each other to be who they seem to be. Each trust the other to weigh their decision with the greatest care, and to speak only what they know to be true. Birth parents trust adoptive parents with the gift of a life they created, and adoptive parents trust birth parents to know their own hearts.
Experiencing adoption is akin to receiving an organ donation or being rescued from a burning building by a complete stranger. It is incredibly humbling to be chosen to receive a birth mother's grace. At the same time it is intoxicating to know that you have the power to change her life forever by accepting her gift.
If you think my life is less because I will not experience pregnancy, please keep that to yourself. And I'll hold private my thought that yours is less because you have not been blessed to witness the purest form of motherhood - sacrificing one's own heart for the sake of your child.
I will live the rest of my days amazed and grateful that our daughter's birth mother had the grace, maturity and love to give her child the life and the mother God intended her to have.
Sally Bacchetta
The Adoptive Parent
My Google Profile+
Sally Bacchetta's YouTube Channel
Parenting
Motherhood
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