Letters to Elijah... Thanksgiving Edition

Dear Eli-

Well son, we’ve moved up on the list! We’re now number 60. That was quite a leap we made in one month! I don’t expect it to move that quickly all the time, but it’s very good news.

We’re coming up on Thanksgiving—a holiday that you’ll learn more about when you arrive. It’s meant to be a time where we reflect on all of the things that we’re thankful for, a time for family and friends to enjoy one another’s company and, of course, pie.

I thought I should introduce you to some of the people that I am most thankful for—your soon to be family. I’ve never believed that you had to be blood to be family. You know that I am not your birth mama.. you can take one look at the colors of our skin and know that. But that doesn’t make me any less your mom. You were born in my heart so many years ago. You have been with me for as long as I can remember; you couldn’t be more mine or I, yours.

The family that you are coming home to is quite a cast of characters. We are Southerners by way of the Detroit area but further back we are Scottish/Irish. Our people were fierce warriors and.. well.. criminals (you’ll figure it out). We may not always agree or get along but we love each other through and through.

Your Yaya and Papa are my parents. Papa is my dad by marriage but I couldn’t have asked for one better. He’s playful and silly but also very smart about business and politics. He is very much looking forward to teaching you how to metal detect (his favorite hobby). You two will get along like peas and carrots.

Your Yaya, or my mom, is one of the strongest people I know. For the longest time, it was just the three of us, Yaya, Aunt Sassy and me. And we struggled, a lot. Your Yaya never lost her faith in God; it was almost as if the hard times made her believe more. She is a true believer in God’s plan for us and has been one of the biggest supporters of your coming home. She has the kindest, most tender heart and I can’t wait for you to meet her.

Aunt Sassy, is my older sister Michelle, and she is a mess! (in a great way but you’ll figure that out too). Someone once described her by saying that God filled her to the brim with laughter and tears; I can’t think of a more perfect description. She’s a beautiful person inside and out. We didn’t always get along growing up that’s just how sisters can be, but these days we are thick as thieves.

Aunt Sassy lives way down south with Uncle Eric and your cousins, John Henry and Luke. Uncle Eric is always good for a laugh or a big old bear hug. John Henry is going to be 16 next month, I can hardly believe it. It seems like just yesterday I held him for the first time and danced him around the living room. Luke T. is getting more grown by the day—my beautiful little weirdo. They are both outstanding young men who I love dearly and I have a feeling you will too.

There are lots of aunts, uncles and cousins here who are waiting for you to come home. There are 38 of us in all though we’re hardly ever all together in one place. My granny and papa, your great grand parents, went home to Jesus years ago but we can feel their presence when we’re all together. I’d like to think they are watching over us, smiling.

I am so blessed to be adding you to my little chapter of our family story. We may not be the most conventional family, but we’re family nonetheless and for that I am thankful.

Until Next Time, Precious Boy-

All my love!

Mom

Next Up on the Soap Box...

I’ve tried a few times over the past couple of weeks to sit down and write a letter to Elijah. Somehow writing letters to my boy so far away helps me feel connected to him. It helps me to think that somewhere he knows that someone loves him. As of yet, I’ve been unsuccessful. It’s hard to write something tender and loving when I’m worked up. And I am worked up!

Since this adoption process started, and more recently since I’ve made the waiting list, I’ve noticed a very interesting phenomenon. Suddenly, people around me that already have kids turned into experts in parenting. I had no idea! They gladly dole out their thoughts and parenting advice—their unwanted, unsolicited parenting advice at every turn. Now some of them, I would willing and gladly take parenting advice from. Others? Not so much. It’s not because I don’t fully believe them to be good parents, I’m sure they are. It’s the way they do it.

Usually the comment is made after I make a statement about the type of parent I want to be or share my feelings on some parenting matter. It’s then that I hear “just you wait, Amy” or “I can’t wait for you to get your kid” shaking their head and rolling their eyes. They respond like I have no idea of what I’m talking about, like I’m some cock-eyed optimist with rose colored parenting glasses. They’re not wrong—I don’t know what they are or have gone through as a parent, much less a single parent. But I’m not devoid of the mothering instinct at some point it does become second nature.

All the crappy stuff they dislike about parenting: the sleepless nights, the tantrums, the loss of personal freedom, the sacrifice-- all the stuff they are warning me about, all the “just you wait” stuff-- I’m actually looking forward to. I'm looking forward to taking care of someone other than myself and my grumpy, old cat. I never thought I was going to GET to experience it for myself. I thought I was going to live this selfish existence and never get to experience the joy (and pain) of being a parent.

It’s like years of hearing about a super exciting yet terrifying roller coaster and all you want to do is ride it. Then you get there and find out you’re not tall enough.

If you’ve made comments like this to me, perhaps you didn’t know how personally I take them. Maybe you didn’t know that this issue has been a struggle for me. I'm willing to let it go. But going forward, if this is your way of giving me parenting advice, do me a favor, shut up. You’re not being supportive.

Maybe you are doing me a favor because what you fail to realize is your challenging me is only going to make me work harder—to want it more. If that’s even possible in this case.

Rant over.

Letters to Eli page 2

Dear Eli-

I spent last weekend in Indiana with your cousin Sarah and her two little ones, Caroline and Alex. Cousin Nick was out of town at a conference, so I went down to lend a hand. We had a blast! Your cousins are so beautiful and so smart—we played and played. It was awesome to see my younger cousin mother her children. She is a gorgeous example of motherhood.

I don’t get to spend too much time around children in my normal life so I thought this would be a good time to practice my parenting skills. All in all, I don’t think I did too badly. The car seats were a bit of a struggle and Caroline tipped over in her chair but there were no major incidents otherwise. I learned I have a lot to learn about parenting.

See, I have some pretty grand ideas of the type of parent I want to be. I want to be the type of mom that doesn’t sweat the small stuff. Years ago, I was out to breakfast with your Yaya and Papa, and a little boy- maybe four or five years old- came into the restaurant. He was wearing shorts, a t-shirt and red galoshes. He also had a blue bath towel tied around his neck cape-style. I thought “if my son wants to dress up like Superman and go to breakfast, then let’s go to breakfast.”

I’ll be that type of mom, because wearing a bath towel out to breakfast seems perfectly normal to me. But there will be bigger “small” things that are going to be tough not to sweat. Your mom is not perfect, in fact, she can be a real hot mess. And no matter how much she would like people to think she has it together, some days she is really…. not… together. You'll figure out what days those are.

So to that end, I’ve started working on some guidelines for us to follow. We’re a team now you and I. I can’t promise that I will always get it right, I can’t even promise I’ll get it right 75% of the time. But I’ll promise to try and not make a total mess of it. Here is what I’ve come up with:

Mom and Elijah’s List of Truths:

1)      I love you very, very much. Just as you are—a complete and incomplete little puzzle. A wondrous, unique snowflake created in God’s image.

2)      I will always let you be who you are. I’ll help shape you into the person you were meant to be, not bend you or break you into a mold you were never meant to fit.

3)  There is always grace.

4)      Music and dancing are always allowed and encouraged—at the dinner table and otherwise.

There will be more to come. But until then, little one, you are always in my heart and never far from my mind.

All My Love-

Mom