mothers' day

My friends had sweet, all-smiley pix with their kids for Mothers Day.
This is our best take...Tagg wishing he was throwing rocks in the pond,
and Sloane going for my bracelet. At least my eyes are open.
Welcome to my mom life! I L-O-V-E it.

Mother's Day, for me, is an incredibly special day. There were days, years even, where I never thought I would be somebody's mom. I love my mother so much, and my mother-in-law and my aunts and so many of my friends are amazing, incredible and inspirational moms that I feel honored to be in "the club." Scott and I had a little romantic escape at Snowbird that included a lovely dinner, a hot tub with mountain views, and much-needed massages in the morning, and then we spent a fun-filled day with the kids. Perfect Mothers' Day in my opinion.

And then I got this text from Juno: Happy Mother's Day! I hope it is a great one :) love you all so much!

AND this Facebook message from Bella: I hope your Mother's Day is wonderful [: You deserve it! I think I could have interviewed every mom in the world, and still never found one that came close to you!

I cried a little. Happy tears. They made me feel...like a Mother. I'm not sure how to describe this exactly, because I feel like a mother every day when I'm with Tagg and Sloane. But I think somehow when you're an adoptive parent, especially one with such an open relationship with your birth parents, you feel like you share these children in a way. At least that's how it is for me.

Sure, you're their mom. You do all the hard stuff - diapers and discipline, patience and potty training, late nights and last-minutes, college savings accounts and clean up. But you get all the good stuff too - the hugs, the night-night kisses, the "firsts," the giggles, the random and hilarious comments and dances, and all those moments that make parenthood so delicious. But for me, I share these children with their birth moms. I'm aware, always, that I made a pact with them and our babies to be not just a "whatever" mom, but a great mom. And that's not always an easy promise to live up to.

So knowing that I not only get the joy of this handsome, clever, hilarious boy and this adventurous, lovely, whip-smart girl, not to mention the entire "mom" experience...and that they support me in the journey? That they appreciate me and respect our relationship enough to send those messages? Next to my children, that is THE best Mothers' Day gift I could ever hope for. And every success that these girls have in their lives is just a special bow on top. A bow that makes me proud and warm inside. I hope to get the same gift every year. It will just get richer and more special as time goes on.

I still never know exactly how to respect their place in this relationship. Hallmark doesn't make "birth mom" Mothers Day cards. And it seems like it could be offensive or hurtful, or something not right, to send them a card or an email acknowledging that it's their day too in a weird, unconventional way. No matter what, I hope they know that every moment of every Mothers Day and most days, we have them in our hearts and minds. Because without their mother's love, I would not be celebrating this very special day.

*There's an Open Adoption Round Table blog about Mothers Day...lots of great conversations that we are now part of...

how does it feel?

The Open Adoption Roundtable posted a discussion topic today...how do you feel after a visit? A little like you've been through an emotional sausage grinder, I think but hey! sausage is pretty yummy when it's done. Let me see if I can capture some of the feelings that ricochet around your heart and head and family after a visit.

Full of Love. We always say that you can't ever have too many people to love you. We are extremely lucky to have these amazing people who started as strangers and became part of our family. Our love for them is genuine, and so is their love for us. It's amazing how much love is out there when you open your heart to it. We chat about life and the weather and marvel over how amazing our kids are, like we would with aunts and cousins who live out of state. Thoughtful little gifts show how much they care for our whole family whether it's a special book that Bella knows Tagg would love, or a cute outfit that I know Juno picked out specially for Sloane. Sometimes my heart practically hurts and my eyes well up with tears, I'm so overflowing with love.

Blessed. How on earth did we get so lucky to have these amazing, perfect, beautiful children?! These people. That's how. These selfless young women and men, and their families, who gave us a gift for which there will never be enough thanks. We are blessed that they chose us, blessed with these amazing babies, and blessed that they are now part of our life and are willing to figure it all out and make mistakes and enjoy the wonderful...together.

Insanely lucky. We'll probably never win the Lotto. We must have used up a lifetime of good luck getting these adorable kids. But to get the extended family too? They are all, all of them, so special and wonderful and loving and normal (let's face it, that's a big one!). They are beautiful and smart and funny and fun. And they could have done this. But they made an incredibly hard decision and took a huge gamble on us. And I guess we gambled too. Open adoption takes a lot of trust, and a lot of openness. We've been lucky that everyone in this crazy relationship respects the relationship, and puts the kids first.

A little sad. Like I said, they could have done this. And I know that after every time we talk or meet for a picnic in the park, they have to leave their kids, and deal with the separation again. They have to file away those fleeting moments - a hug, a facial expression that reminds them of themselves as a child, the chime of a giggle that sounds familiar. Trying, in a few minutes or hours, to absorb all the change that weeks or months of growing up has affected on the baby they placed so lovingly in our arms. Hoping that they didn't say or do anything awkward, that they didn't push too much, hug too tightly. And wondering how long it will be till they can do it again. It makes me feel a little sad.

Relief. I think before every meeting, you work up in your head a list of all the worst things that could happen. From a bad hair day or an awkward conversation to a full-on meltdown or...who knows, random kidnapping attempt. Seriously, your head can get a little crazy. And when it all goes well, and you've added another brick to the foundation of trust you're building together, it feels good. And right. And you're relieved.

Wonder. How on earth are we doing this? How are we making it work? There's no book. No instruction manual. There are hardly even any good conversations online to help guide you (except this one of course). We're just winging it. And what's next? What happens when the kids are old enough to understand who Bella and Jacob and Juno and Paulie are, and how they fit in our family? How are we going to explain adoption to them? How do we make sure they know how much they're loved by all of us? What if, in their teen angst years, they don't want this relationship anymore and how do we help them and the birth parents deal with that? What if their birth parents "move on" and don't stay in touch, or what if some do and some don't? And when they have children that they parent, how does that relationship work? We know it's going to get easier in some ways, and harder in lots of others. I suppose we're going to keep walking ahead blindly, guided by nothing more than love and faith.

the fine print...

I've been doing what I can to get my kids to brush their teeth regularly. For Easter, they got Dora and Cars toothbrushes with corresponding toothpaste. Cute, right? And the kids LOVE it.

We brush their teeth first to get a good clean and show them how it's done, and then we give them two or three chances to brush by themselves. This usually equates to them sucking all the toothpaste off the brush and then playing in the water till they get a refill. Suck, "brush", rinse, repeat. I was feeling pretty good about this. They love brushing their teeth!

Last night, while this was going on, I started reading the toothpaste label. Are you kidding me?! It actually says this:


"Keep out of reach of children under 6 years of age.  If more than used for brushing is accidentally swallowed, get medical help or contact a Poison Control Center right away."

The Poison Control Center?! For Dora toothpaste?! What in the hell is that all about?! Healthy Smiles my ass, Dora. And apparently the American Dental Association knows all about this, publishes the warning on their website and still...STILL gives it their approval:

"The ADA Council on Scientific Affairs’ Acceptance of Colgate^® for Kids Toothpaste (Dora, Littlest Pet Shop, Bakugan, Transformers and SpongeBob) is based on its finding that the product is effective in helping to prevent and reduce tooth decay, when used as directed." 

Used as directed? Are you kidding me? What 2 to 4 year old is NOT going to chow down more of this bubble-gum flavored, cartoon-endorsed dental goodness than is "directed?" NONE. No normal kid will abstain from the yummy probably-tooth-decay-preventing toothpaste because the label says just use a "pea-size amount". Especially if their parents don't read the damn fine print! Let's face it, most kids don't even know what a pea is and if they did, they probably wouldn't need the candy-flavored toothpaste in the first place.

So my kids have sucking down what I thought was an ADA-approved, child-safe toothpaste that would keep them from getting cavities and instead, they're ingesting something that is apparently the equivalent of lighter fluid. Thanks, Colgate, ADA, Dora and whoever else has been promoting this.

I am becoming more of a hippie, naturalist every time I get blindsided by this kind of stuff. Organic toothpaste, anyone? And read the fine print on that...you just never know.

Me, Tiff and Natalie...my crazy running girls.
That look on our faces is "it's 21 degrees and we are shivering
and not trained enough. Let's GO already!"

The first race of my 4 half-marathons in a month was Saturday. In spite of the 4:30am wake-up call, the hour and half drive (with stops) to get to the race, and the 21 degree temperature at the start. I couldn't feel my fingers or toes for about the first 2 miles.

What I could feel was my belly. For the second time in a dozen races, I had to pull a pit stop at mile 3. I am oddly proud of this fact because I no longer have some of the inner pipes that most people do and digestion can be a challenge on a regular day. Most runners deal with "emergencies," waiting anxiously in line at port-a-potties along the route, dancing from foot to foot battling an urgent inner turmoil that could end with some serious embarrassment, and an equally urgent desire to be back pounding down the course chasing all the people who passed them while they were waiting. Anyhow, it goes without saying that joining that line was a "bummer." I never really recovered after that and the run was a slog. A beautiful slog.

I really thought this was going to be the perfect carb-loading,
belly-friendly, pre-race meal. It was delicious and easy to make.
The results were not so great. I do not blame the turkey tetrazzini.

Running is funny. You spend so much time in your head, having a conversation with yourself about everything - life and death, inspiration, going faster, not quitting, not stopping. That ache in your right hamstring, that hill you're going to have get over, a lovely old barn that makes you want to stop and take a picture because it reminds you of Girl Scout camp. Why can't people decide which side of the road to run on? How come people are tent camping when it's this cold? How come that woman is snorting and grunting like a pig? How anyone could run in shorts in these temperatures? Realizing your half-assed-I'm-busy-excuses training program was, as always, insufficient so you start making deals with yourself about how you'll do it better this time, starting tomorrow. The to-do list for the day, the month, for your life is flying through your brain like an old-fashioned stock ticker-tape and then it's completely erased by the sight of three horses galloping through a field, breath misting from their nostrils, a glassy lake, barren trees and snow-covered mountains serving as a postcard-perfect background and you think you know what life is all about.

For the first six miles you think you're going to PR (get a personal record), for the last 7 you're wondering why the fuck you even got out of bed this morning for this insanity and if that one, lone cheerleader on the road might give you a lift to the finish line.

And that's life, isn't it? Maybe that's why we do it. Because you get out of bed, when it would be easier to pull the covers around your head and hit snooze, to get on the roller coaster. That up and down, wild journey where pain meet beauty. Where your weakness meets your strength. Where your perfect inspired dream-life meets the have-to's of every day life. Where you get to talk to you for a couple of uninterrupted hours and figure out some things about life, and yourself. Where you know that, no matter what, you have friends who are with you for different parts of the ride, getting your butt out of bed, shouting encouragement along the way, walking by your side when you need them, and cheering for you when you cross the finish line...always thinking you are an amazing, powerful woman.

For a little race of 600 people, this run was so
professionally run. Water, bathrooms, transportation, medals,
breakfast at the end. Very impressed by Striders Winter Racing Circuit!

And at the end of 13.1 miles (don't discount that last tenth...it's a bitch), you get a medal. It doesn't matter if you ran your best race or your worst. All that matters is that finished. And hopefully you had fun doing it. I know I did.

the principal's office

Tagg has been in pre-school for about 6 months and we already had our first visit to the principal's office. Well they don't really have a principal at our pre-school but the experience is the same. Here's how it went down...

I pick Tagg up from school and ask how his day was. "Good!" he pipes up from the car seat.

"What did you do today?"

"We were hitting and kicking and punching Bobby," he boasts, in his sweet little chirpy voice.

"You did WHAT?!?!"

And he kindly repeated it for me. Thank goodness he doesn't get the concept of lying yet. I immediately picked up the phone and called the school and sure enough, they thought we should come in for a "talk." Apparently there are four boys in his class who are having some kind of Lord of the Flies moment where they take turns beating the snot out of each other and playing king of the class. One, the little kid, has resorted to biting, which has his parents completely freaked out and desperate. And here's my little hellion, in desperate need of...something. On the flip side, I was strangely happy that it wasn't just him beating up other kids. I mean, at least he's not a bully. Yet.

So how do we change the direction? Well, first of all, we think he's bored and is acting out to get attention. In about a year and a half, he went from being the only child, and then one of two kids with someone dedicated to his every need, thought or question, to one of a dozen little people all trying to figure out their place in the world. And he's really wicked smart. When the class is learning that "red means stop," he knows that a stop sign is a hexagon and stop is spelled s-t-o-p. So we put him in some special programs at school that give him a little more challenge and personal attention. But what else?

Stickers. Yep. Stickers is what we came up with. (Bear in mind, I am beginning to loathe stickers. They are everywhere, on everything. Like mold or fleas. But they work.) We call it the "nice project" and he gets rewarded with a sticker every time he does something kind. The end game reward is Star Wars Legos (yes, I understand that these are the same devil as stickers, but worse because you step on them and they clog up the vacuum and they're just generally awful). I have never seen a kid more motivated to get stickers, and Star Wars, and legos.

No matter what, hopefully, the exercise is teaching him the value of being sweet, listening and helping. Fingers crossed.

run, run, run

I have not been running as much as I want to, or should be. I've let myself get swallowed up by work and life and excuses and the miles have drifted away while the pounds pile on. I promised myself that it's time to get back on track so I knocked out an 8-miler on Saturday and felt pretty good about it. Which is a good thing.

I've set myself a new, impossible, crazy goal. I'm going to run four half-marathons in a month. I didn't start out planning this, believe me. The Salt Lake Half Marathon, which I've done three times, was in trouble. Lots of management and financial issues and people weren't sure it was going to happen. That one is April 21st. I have some friends who are doing it for the first time so I finally signed up. But just in case it didn't happen...

I signed up for one on April 7th, in Heber, which is near one of my Ragnar runs. It's called Striders and it's small. But then I started thinking, hmmm...Utah, mountains, April...snow. I do not want to do 13 miles in the snow. And it's only 45 bucks so....

I signed up for the Thanksgiving Point Half Marathon on April 28th. I heard it was a good one and the odds of snow are slim. Plus, one of my Ragnar friends decided to do it with me so I'm now committed. Or triple-committed. But at this point I'm still thinking I'm probably only going to do one of the three. And then...

My friend Carrie gets a Groupon for half-price off another half-marathon on Cinco de Mayo. It's in Provo which is normally a serious deterrent to me (they have like one Starbucks in Provo, no tequila and tend to frown on tank tops and swearing) but she really, really wants me to sign up. What can I say? It's HALF-PRICE! Like 30 bucks. And I've already signed up for three halves that I'm mildly trained for. So, I'm in.

And then I think, HEY! If I run all four (A) I'll be better trained than I've ever been for most of the half-marathons I've run, (B) I'll be burning some serious calories for swimsuit season, (C) it's good training for Ragnar, and (D) I'll be able to say I ran four half marathons in a month! That's not too shabby.

Let the running begin. I'm going 4 for 4!

green thumbs & spray guns

We started another gardening project this year, buoyed by last year's mild success with a few peppers and some basil. I'm in the mood for fresh herbs and veggies that don't cost a fortune and the kids are in the mood for...dirt. We went seed shopping a few weeks ago and Tagg and Sloane picked most of them out, including corn (where in the hell are we going to plant corn?!) and peppers and pumpkins. Yep. Pumpkins. "Giant" pumpkins. That should be interesting.

So we started a bunch of seeds in these little planters. It was dirty business, but we got them planted. And nearly drowned a few in the process. My kids love to pour water on stuff!

And a few weeks later, we have little sprouts! Tagg shuffled all the name tags so it will be a guessing game to figure out what's what, but wow! We're growing stuff!

We had to move our gardening project inside this week due to a cold spell. 80 on Saturday, snowing on Sunday. Not so good for our little seedlings. I say this like I know anything about gardening, which I do not. But it sounds good, so now the little plants are living on our dining room table, all nice and toasty.

You have never seen anyone who loves to water plants as much as Tagg does. It might be the squirt bottle. Okay, it's definitely the squirt bottle. At least for once it's aimed at something productive, as opposed to my mirror, shoes, bed, his sister, the dog, the DVD player...

He is pretty proud of his green thumb. He likes to point out each new little sprout as it pops up and we talk about the differences between the way they look and how fast they grow. But they all need water. That much he knows! Sloane is still just fascinated by the dirt which does not bode well for the plants. Last year, she would pick every tomato, strawberry and pepper she could and start eating them right off the vine. At least she enjoyed our limited crop!

Plant-watering is serious business in our house. You have to FOCUS.

So we may be a little ahead of the planting season, but we've got a long journey to turn these little seeds into a bountiful crop. From a planter. Like I said, serious business.