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...
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...
"To girls everywhere, I am with you." This is how a woman who was assaulted and raped behind a dumpster at Stanford University ended her statement to her attacker at his sentencing hearing. My admiration for this woman is seeping out of my pores. If this were me,...
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 tricycles to bikes, from building blocks to creating airplanes, from Thomas the Tank Engine to his own You Tube channel.
It was bound to happen – and it did.
Puberty. The big P.
His voice lowered, he grew right past me in height, and his shoes look like canoes. Jax is 14, puberty wasn’t a surprise.
Actually, nothing with my son is a surprise because my son has never had a thought he didn’t verbalize. My friends, I mean that literally. I am very aware that Jax has discovered the human body in all its forms and glory because he tells me.
It’s refreshing, actually. I envy it. Jax has no shame. His brain just isn’t wired that way, his awareness doesn’t extend that far. It would not cross his mind that anything he feels, experiences or thinks would be shameful. When he was younger, I tried to explain the word “embarrassed” because it’s not something he feels. I said, “imagine you’re at school and your pants fell down in the cafeteria at lunch time.” He practically fell over in laughter. “That would be the best!”
(Can you imagine? This is a post for another time, but can you imagine living with the security that every part of you is intentional and acceptable and glorious? I can’t, but I get to hang pretty close to it every day. It turns out shame is for suckers.)
Back to the point.
Jax is a teenager, he has hormones, and he wants to check out some photo-nakedness like every other teenager in the world has since the inception of humankind. It’s normal, it’s natural, go for it, kid.
And therein lies my question: HOW? How can he engage in this time-honored viewing tradition?
Most kids these days have the internet. For us, the internet is a whole abyss of no-can-do. For obvious reasons, I don’t need my extremely literal son thinking that plumbers routinely show up to houses to do things, uhhhh, other than plumbing. You get my drift. For special needs kids, especially, the internet is scary and creepy and no.
Go old-school and buy some magazines? Not into it. Over-sexualized, rail-thin women are not my goal. In fact, that is the opposite of my goal.
Art? Been there. Catalogs? Sorta. Textbooks? Educational, but diagrams aren’t exactly over the target.
I had an idea for a digital book of artsy nudes with a diverse and beautiful collection of models. Think of it as a celebration of the human body in all its forms – that, yeah, Jax could hide under his bed.
I know, you’re all like eeeeek. I know this because eeeek is the reaction I’ve gotten from everyone I have floated this idea by.
“So, Becca, basically, you want to make a book of tasteful naked people for your son with autism.”
“Yes.”
(Awkward pause)
“So this has been such amazing weather, hasn’t it??”
Right.
This whole issue is a little weird, I get it. But it’s a real question for real kids. I’m thinking I can’t be the first special needs parent to run into this.
So I come to you, people of the internet, with my shoulders shrugged, with my mind open, and with pen and paper ready to note all the ideas you’ve got.
But I come with no shame, man. No shame.