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...
I have been putting this post off for weeks. I’ve told myself that I have writer’s block, that I’m too busy, that life, you guys.
Really, I am just hiding out. From myself and from you and from this blinking cursor who knows that I won’t write another thing until and unless this comes first.
Deep breath.
Today, I am meeting an estates and trusts lawyer. In 33 minutes, I will put on some nicer shoes, hopefully remember some earrings, and get in my car to meet my parents at the office of their lawyer and discuss my son’s future.
Today, a man I have never met will ask me, “Do you think your son will be able to manage his assets when he reaches age 18?”
I will look at this man, a stranger until today, and say, “No. I don’t think so.”
I wonder if this man will know that I feel like I’ve stabbed myself in the heart with those out-loud words.
I can already hear my inbox dinging with messages. “No limits!” and “Don’t give up!” and “He’s just differently-abled!” I hear you, and I want you to know that it makes this worse. This has not been a quick or easy realization. There is a time to fight and a time to advocate, and there is a time to face every possible reality and plan for it. Today, I am planning for my son’s possible reality.
Here’s the truth. Yes, we have lived in special needs world for several years, but I honest-to-goodness thought it was temporary. I really did. I thought with enough work, enough therapy, enough motivation, in time, I could get Jax to that finish line that said “typical-ish.” I thought he might hover at that line, he might take a few steps forward, one step back, but that line was the goal, the only goal. I did not allow myself to consider the chance that he wouldn’t reach it.
After watching my son this year, and watching the gap between he and his peers grow, watching his struggles in school, watching his comfort zone shrink, I think we might be here to stay in special needs world. I think I better get rid of this movable camping chair and buy myself a Barcalounger.
I’m going to go tell a stranger to set up a trust for my son because he might never make it on his own. I will designate someone to manage the trust, and I will work my ass off to fund it. I will come home and I will hug my son fiercely and tightly and tell him that he is my favorite thing. I will send him off with the sitter so I can have an hour to myself.
Then I will be honest with myself, I will think about the magnitude of this, and I will let myself be absolutely terrified.
Sincerely,
Becca
Your candid words on your struggle is inspiring. I have no idea how you’re feeling but I hope to hell it gets better soon. All the best xx Jackie
Your candid words on your struggle is inspiring. I have no idea how you’re feeling but I hope to hell it gets better soon. All the best xx Jackie
That is such a hard call to make. While I agree with everyone on the idea of no limits, I also know there is a difference between limits and being prepared. I spend a huge chunk of my time working with my son toward independence and being able to do self-care stuff, teaching him what he needs to know to be on his own. And I spend another chunk of time planning and preparing for what we do if that doesn’t end up working out. Because as much as you want to just keep hoping, there’s also the responsibility as a parent to make sure they are safe and have their needs met. Today you’re brave, even while you’re absolutely terrified.
That is such a hard call to make. While I agree with everyone on the idea of no limits, I also know there is a difference between limits and being prepared. I spend a huge chunk of my time working with my son toward independence and being able to do self-care stuff, teaching him what he needs to know to be on his own. And I spend another chunk of time planning and preparing for what we do if that doesn’t end up working out. Because as much as you want to just keep hoping, there’s also the responsibility as a parent to make sure they are safe and have their needs met. Today you’re brave, even while you’re absolutely terrified.
Hugs. For me, the hardest part of my son’s diagnosis is knowing it doesn’t end. Thank you for sharing this part of your story.
Hugs. For me, the hardest part of my son’s diagnosis is knowing it doesn’t end. Thank you for sharing this part of your story.
You are much braver than I. I’m just gonna live forever.
You are much braver than I. I’m just gonna live forever.
Hugs to you.
Hugs to you.
I think you are An amazing mom I think planning for the worst is not wrong or giving up, it’s just being a responsible and good parent. You are his warrior his protector and protecting his future no matter what his future holds is the most important thing you can do for him. Don’t look at this as giving up or giving in just look at it as peace of mind. He is an amazing boy, maybe not on the soccer field like you dreamed of but he is an individual that is being formed and molded by your loving hands and hard work. He is going to be great just because you have devoted your life to him and have made a difference in his life and will continue to. So maybe this wasn’t what you planned or dreamed of but also look at it this way you have and will make dramatic changes in what his life may have been. You matter, he matters and his awesomeness may never be on the range of what people say is “normal” but he will still be awesome because he has you and you have made important and difficult decisions for him. Love and trust in what you do for him and take peace in knowing that no matter what his abilities are he is going to be taken care of.
I think you are An amazing mom I think planning for the worst is not wrong or giving up, it’s just being a responsible and good parent. You are his warrior his protector and protecting his future no matter what his future holds is the most important thing you can do for him. Don’t look at this as giving up or giving in just look at it as peace of mind. He is an amazing boy, maybe not on the soccer field like you dreamed of but he is an individual that is being formed and molded by your loving hands and hard work. He is going to be great just because you have devoted your life to him and have made a difference in his life and will continue to. So maybe this wasn’t what you planned or dreamed of but also look at it this way you have and will make dramatic changes in what his life may have been. You matter, he matters and his awesomeness may never be on the range of what people say is “normal” but he will still be awesome because he has you and you have made important and difficult decisions for him. Love and trust in what you do for him and take peace in knowing that no matter what his abilities are he is going to be taken care of.
This is something that I must do. You were strong enough to actually take care of this. I wanna be like you when I grow up.
This is something that I must do. You were strong enough to actually take care of this. I wanna be like you when I grow up.
Becca, you are the best of moms. You are looking after the best of interests of your son. Love is more than just hugging, but you got the hugging part right too. You are a credit to him. BTG
Becca, you are the best of moms. You are looking after the best of interests of your son. Love is more than just hugging, but you got the hugging part right too. You are a credit to him. BTG
Well said
Well said
I’m a “special needs” myself, i’ve been in n’ out of places my parents thought would help. They all did, to a point. I’m still in what i would call a “recovery house” It’s been in places like this for 27 years, give or take. I can understand partially because i had a gran mal seizure and your son is showing some signs of that.
I’m a “special needs” myself, i’ve been in n’ out of places my parents thought would help. They all did, to a point. I’m still in what i would call a “recovery house” It’s been in places like this for 27 years, give or take. I can understand partially because i had a gran mal seizure and your son is showing some signs of that.