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,...
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,...
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 constantly-changing people. This was a kid who had no one, not a single person to show up for him to this school meeting. I was just another face.
I did my job. He had decent services, a caring team, and for better or worse, he was at a school with a lot of kids like him. The school knew that this kid probably wouldn’t be there in two months.
We were close to done with the meeting, but the kid wasn’t cooperating. He was being a little difficult, and I asked him to help out. In response to me, he looked at the ceiling and said, “Whatever. I’ll never see you again.”
I almost said, “Probably not.”
But he reminded me of my son. The way he soothed himself by repeatedly diverting the conversation to familiar, but irrelevant ground, the way he wouldn’t look at me when I looked at him, but stole glances when I looked away, the way he doodled fiercely and intently on the paper as he spoke, as if drawing was the engine that fueled his ability to think and process.
Neglect. I don’t care what the paperwork said, this was neglect. This was years of not having a family, living in and out of group homes, and having to lock up your belongings when you got “home” because your things had a way of disappearing.
So when he said, “I’ll never see you again,” I impulsively said, “Sure you will. If you pipe down, let us finish the meeting and tell us what you need, I’ll be back next year.”
“I won’t be here next year.” It was a challenge, a test to see how serious I was.
“You’re not that hard to find, kid. And we’re going to write on this official paper that goes in your file that in a year, someone needs to call me.”
He paused.
He started doodling again. “What do I have to do?”
“You have to tell us if anything would help you at school.”
“I want to sit by the window because it’s quieter.”
“Done.”
“It doesn’t matter that I can turn in homework late because my homework gets stolen.”
“From now on, you can do all your homework at school and leave it here.”
“I want to listen to my music when my teachers are talking.”
“Too bad.”
He didn’t smile, but he stole a look at my eyes.
As we walked out of the room into the outside courtyard, he said, “See you next year…?” It was a question.
“You’ll see me next year. It’s already on my calendar.”
“I might be in Yuma,” he said.
“I like Yuma.”
“Yuma fucking sucks.”
“Yeah, actually it does.”
Head down, kicking the ground, he said, “Thanks for helping me out.”
“You’re welcome.”
He turned and walked away, but I heard him mumble, “See you next year.” It was soft, under his breath, but I heard it.
And it was a statement.
See you next year, kid.
Sincerely,
Becca
Just another reminder of why I have so much respect for you.
I just put on my makeup and now I’m in tears. That could have been my son.
Awe. You did a good thing. Neglect was right on the money. Doing someone a solid. Serving the undeserved and underrepresented is what we need to do. Especially if we have a home, a job, a car and someone in our life that supports us.
Becca, once again you amaze me! Not only do you fight for Jax, but for every child out there. Arizona children with IEP’s are lucky to have you as their champion. You’re heart ❤️ is so big & I know without a doubt, you absolutely will see him next year. Hell nor high water will keep you away! Love you my friend??
As a former foster kid that aged out, THANK YOU! One of my brothers was like this kid, constantly being moved from one group home to another. He ended up being too difficult for staff to deal with so they would ship him off to somewhere else. I had to take a freakin boat ride to some island once to visit him at one group home. We dealt with abandon enemy issues and people constantly coming into our lives and leaving. What you did seriously makes a difference. I can’t thank you enough ❤
*abandonment issues
Definitely not abandon enemy issues.
As someone that used to work in the field, it’s so nice to hear the “good” stories. There are too many kids out there that have been neglected and need someone. I used to work on that side of the fence and now we have a child with asd that we adopted. That was a pretty badass story. Thanks for sharing and committing to being there next year. Once he sees that you’re there next year, you might give him a little hope for humankind.
Wow. You’re so amazing and an inspiration! I hope he remembers you next year.