I’ve been waiting on myself to begin. I knew it was time to get back to this and I knew it was time for a shift. I shut down the old blog, bought a new name, and created a new site. A new chapter. But how to begin, Becca, how to start. The pressure. Y’all are like,...
My mom died on April 1, just a little over two weeks ago. I don’t know which cliché to use – does it feel like yesterday or years? Both, I guess. My mom was a young 74 and did all the healthy things – the exercising, the kale, the vitamins, the check-ups. I look like...
Well, it had to come. Some of you readers have been with me for a while now. You’ve read these random blogs and followed along on Facebook as Jax came home from China, was diagnosed with all the things, and proceeded to grow up into a teenage boy. He’s gone from...
So we’re homeschooling over here. It’s going really well, I’d say. We have great people, Jax’s anxiety is at an all-time low, he’s happy, he’s inquisitive, and importantly, he’s learning things that are relevant to his 14 year-old-life and skills he’ll use for his...
I have sucked as a parent lately. Truth. 'Tis the season for holiday lights and wrapping paper and for mom to be a stressed out asshole. That should be a Christmas carol. “Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the waaayyyyy. My mom’s annoyed at everyone, please bring...
Dear Jax,It's Gotcha Day, little dude. We adopted you eleven years ago today. I love this day, but this year's celebration is bittersweet. Your grandmother died on Friday night. Your dad's mom, Grandma Mary. This year's Gotcha Day will be a little less inflatable...
Johnny made it to his Army base on Monday. Other moms are messaging me tips to survive boot camp, linking me to Facebook groups, introducing me to people who can show me the ropes. It's lovely, but I’m in a different sort of situation. “Hi Martha with your...
A day or two ago, Jax had an appointment with a psychiatrist. Jax has never met this man before, but I have, and I like him a lot. He regurgitates mountains of stuff from memory, has a Harvard degree, and is smart, smart, smart. All good stuff when you’re a mom...
Johnny, I've been down at the Capitol this past week fighting for a bill that would expedite the adoption of older kids. I'm pretty invested in it because you and I went through this. We had nine months to make your adoption happen, and had I not already had a giant...
And I quote: "And after fourteen years of foster care, Johnny was getting all As and Bs in school, happily helping around the house, had checking and savings accounts, and looking for his first job - all within just a few months of being adopted into a family. "...
I've spent the last few days outlining an open letter to the person who hurt Jax. A real doozy of a piece, cleverly called "Dear Person Who Hurt My Child." I was going to write and publish it this morning, throw it all out there and let the internet lovelies react to...
The adult who hurt my son will not be charged. I'm a lawyer. I get it. There are no witnesses, no physical evidence, and Jax ...well, Jax isn't the best witness. At 13, Jax still believes that Noelle the Naughty Elf stole my car keys and tried to take my...
I am a Helicopter Mom. No shame here, no self-deprecating humor, there is really no other option for this child tornado of mine. Maybe helicopter isn't the right word, I think I'm more like the car with the flashing lights that travels behind the Wide Load truck on...
I was coming out of an Ace Hardware the other day - feeling super handy, I might add - and on the way to my car, I saw a woman standing by a table raising money. It was a legit 100-gazillion degrees in Phoenix and I was entirely prepared to do the polite smile...
I was sick this week. Throwing up throughout the night, curled up in fetal position at the base of the toilet, not sure how clean the bath mat is, I do not even care, I will never eat blue cheese in a salad again, SICK. Being sick as an adult is lousy. Being sick as a...
Dear Johnny, I know this isn't where you thought you would be at age 17. Still in the foster system, a day pass on your birthday, preparing to be shuffled around again, and then again and again. I know. As a child, you must have thought ahead to 17 and pictured your...
Last week, a family asked about adopting my foster son, Johnny. A family. Adoption. This was a big deal for a sixteen year old foster kid who moved in with me last month because he had nowhere else to go and had every intention of aging out of the system as an orphan....
I had a moment recently. My son, Jax, and I had been in the car running errands for a few hours. I was singing along to the Beatles channel when Jax said, "Mom, I'm hungry." Well, yeah, breakfast was a hurried cup of yogurt three hours ago so that's reasonable....
A teenage boy is coming to live with me. Today. In eight hours, I will be an official foster parent. It's been only a few months, but I have notes upon notes about my short experience so far with this child welfare system of ours. I can't wrap my head around how we...
Last week, I was in my favorite place in the world with my 15-person family. Every few years, we head to a ranch in the mountains of Colorado. We've been going here since I was a little girl, and there is truly no place I would rather be. I told my clients I was out,...
I volunteered to go to an education meeting last week with a foster kid. This kid was in high school and not too interested in me at first. I didn't blame him, I'd never met him before and this was a child who lives in a constantly-changing world with...
It was late-September of 2008 when we brought my son home from China, just two months before December and our sparkly, over-the-top, American-style Christmas season. My little boy had no idea what Christmas was. He had no idea who Santa was. Hell,...
This time of year, man. It’s stressful and chaotic and my annual intention of providing a Pinterest-perfect Christmas lasts about a day and a half until I decide that F-bombs will definitely help me assemble the gingerbread house. Ahhh, December. This year, the...
Jax’s eighth Gotcha Day is coming up. “Gotcha Day” is the anniversary of Jax’s adoption from China. It’s the day Jax became our son, and like good adoptive parents, we celebrate. Jax gets a few presents, we decorate, we eat pizza and cake, we participate in general...
I was at a Ross the other day. I love Ross. There is one by my son's school, and on the days I don't feel like laptopping at Starbucks, I walk around in their exceptional summer air conditioning while having riveting conversations with myself about my need for their...
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This past Friday, my son, Jax, and I went to the park. It was early, around 9am, and we were the only ones there. It was quiet and calm, a complete contrast to our typical park visits. Jax was free to run up and down the play structure that, in his head, was now an aircraft, parachute-jump off the swings, and yell to the control tower. He was laughing, smiling, singing made-up songs about Han Solo.
His joy was palpable. I could see it, I could feel it. My kid was back.
How did I miss this?
Of course, I knew that he’d been getting better. We started a new treatment, a treatment we are unbelievably fortunate to get our hands on, and (knock on wood) it seems to be working. My son’s tics have decreased, we’re leaving the house again, Jax has been showing up to school for an hour or two at a time. It’s a big deal.
But the joy. The joy has always been the essence of my kid. He won’t wow you with his eloquence, team sports certainly aren’t his gift, but when’s he’s happy, it’s contagious. This joy has been missing for a while, on an unwelcome hiatus caused by a medical issue.
But here it was, his joy was right in front of me. I hadn’t noticed its return, but here it was. I wanted a photo or a video, I wanted to capture this. My phone was already in my hand.
My phone was already in my hand.
How did I miss this? This is how. Right here, this little contraption that lives in my right hand, or at its very furthest, the outside pocket of my purse. My phone.
Sometimes it’s necessary. An important work email, a doctor’s call, a quick text asking our sitter to please, pretty please pick up toilet paper and grapes on the way over, a therapist confirming a session, an insurance battle.
But an awful lot of the time, it’s an internet search for workout clothes I’ll never buy, a text about my inability to stop eating chocolate covered cranberries, Facebook, a coupon from the Container Store, the weather when I’m already outside.
In yoga, the hands are extensions of the heart. If this is true, my heart ends at my iPhone.
I missed the return of my son’s joy because I’m always looking down at my phone. I didn’t need a picture of my happy kid on the playground, I needed to be present with my happy kid on the playground. I put my phone away. Not in the easily-reachable outside pocket, but inside, zipped away, out of my immediate reach.
I sat and did nothing but watch my son. Without my phone, he was the only show on the stage. His laughter was not background noise to a google search, but sweet and musical. His monologue about crash-landing the play structure airplane was not interrupting a voicemail, but creative and impressively imaginative. It was a really good show. Why am I missing this show?
In yoga, the hands are extensions of the heart. If this is true, my heart ends at my iPhone.
On the way out of the park, on the way to the car, there was a huge grouping of birds on the ground to our right. Jax took off running at full speed towards them. As he approached them, the birds started to take flight, hundreds of them, flapping their wings and squawking, loudly taking to the air. Jax stopped, looked up at the flying cloud of birds, and reached his arms up towards them. His laughter, louder even than the birds, shook his entire body.
If the hands are extensions of the heart, my kid’s heart was wide open, full of joy, and pointed towards the sky. I could have missed this. I, so easily, could have missed this, and this feels important.
I want the image of my son standing in the grass, laughing, arms overhead against a backdrop of rising birds to stay with me. I need to remember this image.
Because I didn’t take a picture of it.
Sincerely,
Becca
Thank you for sharing and for the reminder to be present as much as our hectic lives will allow.
Thank you for sharing and for the reminder to be present as much as our hectic lives will allow.
Becca, I had fun reading your description. Joy. Oh what a wonderful feeling. I have not been a huge picture taker. You just defined why. Thanks for sharing and most of all thanks for Jax’s joy. Keith
Becca, I had fun reading your description. Joy. Oh what a wonderful feeling. I have not been a huge picture taker. You just defined why. Thanks for sharing and most of all thanks for Jax’s joy. Keith
Beautiful and inspiring. Enjoyed reading it 🙂
Beautiful and inspiring. Enjoyed reading it 🙂
As I sit here listening to my son getting ready for bed & reading your blog, a light goes off. Thank you for the much needed reminder my Dear Friend. I think it’s story time for us. Powering down.❤️❤️
As I sit here listening to my son getting ready for bed & reading your blog, a light goes off. Thank you for the much needed reminder my Dear Friend. I think it’s story time for us. Powering down.❤️❤️
Dear Becca,
You are a sincerely beautiful writer. Thank you for your words.
xoxo, Michelle
Dear Becca,
You are a sincerely beautiful writer. Thank you for your words.
xoxo, Michelle
Beautiful post. And a great reminder to us all. xoxo
Beautiful post. And a great reminder to us all. xoxo
Beautiful post. <3 You really have to live the moment and not try to capture it – sometimes.
Beautiful post. <3 You really have to live the moment and not try to capture it – sometimes.
Wow! That was beautiful, honestly. Good job.
D
Wow! That was beautiful, honestly. Good job.
D