Tattoo Momma!

Yup, in a highly unanticipated move this momma gotta tattoo!

Although, unexpected, I can assure you that I did not enter into the decision lightly or without plenty of forethought. Ever since I adopted my sons, I've been struggling for a way to express how the experience has changed me. Much of the writing I do in this blog has helped me to articulate the profound affect my boys have had on my life, but even my own words have not seemed like enough at times.

Mothers who give birth to their children usually have stretch marks, incision scars or their bodies have simply changed in some way. And although they might find their battle scars unsightly, they are symbolic of the lives they have brought into this world. Adoptive mothers have scars, too, but they wear them on their hearts. And, although I have my fair share of those, I am an artist who is very visual. For me, seeing is believing or in this case, remembering.

The intertwined "heart & triangle" are the international symbol for adoption. The "heart" represents the love that must be present for an adoption to take place and the three points of the "triangle" represent the birth parents; the adoptive parents and the adopted children. I added the "butterfly" as a way of honoring my boys' birth mother, Amy. I think of her as a free spirit, who gracefully floated into our lives, leaving behind two little miracles. Without Amy, I would never have had the opportunity to become a mother and for this I am eternally grateful. I hope in some small way, this gives her an idea of how much she is a part of me.

[Special thanks...To my friend Megan Gibson for the moral support during my appointment and for the margaritas afterwards!  Tattoos hurt—don't let anyone tell you different!  To my friend Deanna Ryan who took the photo of the tattoo with Ty's hands on each side. And, to my friend Carrie Schaetzke who helped me bring my concept to fruition in Adobe Illustrator. The tattoo was inked by Michele Myles of Daredevil Tattoo, New York City, New York.]

The Bedtime Blues

Just before bed each night Ty has a little crying spell—we call it his bedtime blues. The crying has nothing to do with having to go to sleep, it's more like a tiny bout of depression he goes through as he recounts the things he'll miss from that day.  Most of the time it's Mema that he cries about. He tells us how he misses her and how he simply can't wait all night long to see her again. We remind him of the fun they had that day and that like the promise of the sunrise, she will come again. 

Other nights, Mema is replaced by a fictional character from a movie we've seen that day like E.T. the Extra Terrestrial or Wall-e.  He genuinely cares about the characters in the movies we watch. He wonders if E.T. will get home okay or if he'll come back someday to visit. 

And yet, other nights, his sadness is spent on someone or something new that brought meaning to his day. Tonight it was the fireflies. After we spent an hour in the yard catching the little buggers, it was time to release them back into the summer air. I had wrongly assumed that Ty was aware that we wouldn't keep them forever. His face lost all expression when I exclaimed, "Okay boys—now take the lids off and let 'em go"! As heartbroken as he was he understood. So, with tears streaming down his face he popped off the lid and shook his plastic cup. As each glowing firefly flew into the darkness he asked if they would remember him.

I answered, "How could they forget? They just met the most amazing, sensitive little boy on earth. They'll never forget you, Ty."

Outer Banks Vacation 2008

We wearily returned home from the Outer Banks of North Carolina at 4:00 this morning.  Even after a nine hour drive—too and from—we were disappointed at the realization that this year's vacation was once again behind us. 

Anyone who knows me knows that I hate this drive (even if I do sleep the entire time while my dutiful husband does all of the work), and yet it's been the highlight of every summer for the past eight years.  I guess you could say that like all vacations: it gives us the opportunity to spend quality time with our children and each other, and simply breathe in the fresh ocean air.  But for anyone who's been lucky enough to share in this week with us, you know that there's a little more to it than just that. 

The week has been described by John's parents as heaven on earth.  And, although I can't tell you exactly why, I think it has something to do with chemistry.  This is a family who, in addition to loving each other, really likes each other.  Starting with the children, who range from three to eight years old, and play together famously; to the the brothers who truly appreciate and respect each other; to the sisters-in-laws who genuinely share a deep and meaningful friendship—there is nothing forced about this family coming together under one roof.  Understandably, my mother and father-in-law take great pride in the way that their children and grandchildren interact and love each other—so much so, that that they give this week to all of us as a Christmas gift year-after-year.  This year, we were joined by the Hess family (Terri's niece and her immediate family), rounding out our group at 19!

Summer 2008 brought a week of perfect weather, including a perfectly placed thunderstorm!  We spent our days on the beach and our afternoons in the pool.  Each family took turns making themed dinners, complete with signature drinks and specialty desserts.  There were several game nights (girls rule, boys drool), a karaoke and limbo contest and we even managed to fit in a movie night during which we consumed a one-gallon bowl of Joe's homemade guacamole. 

We spent our last moments together in a big circle, holding hands as we sang happy birthday to Great Grandma who will be turning 90 later this month; thanking God for a great week and finally praying for our safe return home.  As always, it was hard saying good-bye to everyone returning to their home states of North Carolina, New York, Pennsylvania and one TBD (Brian and Sam—our resident travelers), but we know for sure that we'll be together again next year.  Despite the drive, I can't wait!