Here is a mixed media piece I made this month of my high school art teacher circa 1988. Below is the original pen and ink drawing I based it off of. I’m submitting them both to an All School Alumni-Student Art Show happening in early August. This teacher is still there! Do you think he’ll be surprised?
I love being in the beauty of nature and visiting state and national parks. In June I visited Joshua Tree and the Grand Canyon National Parks which were both breathtaking. I sat at the rim of the canyon and sketched a rough pencil sketch of the canyon. On my return home I colored and painted it and did one of Joshua Tree National Park as well. (see below)
Two years prior I had visited the Grand Tetons. I did this painting in a different style but I still like how it came out.
This past weekend I crushed my 7 year old’s heart…and my husband’s…and mine too while I was at it. It was quite the productive weekend.
This heart bashing event was the grand finale of my son’s begging for a dog which went on for months and intensified as the weeks passed by. I felt massive guilt with this dog begging because I knew a pet would be good for my son as he’s an only child – it would be a sibling for him. However, I really did not want a dog. I know dogs are cute and sweet and you get attached to them and I hear you learn to ignore the mess and inconvenience but frankly I didn’t want to deal with the walks, the poop, the mess in the house, the scrapes on doors and furniture and basically all of the added responsibility and expense that dog ownership brings. I was finally gaining some freedom back in my life from years of raising a young child and I want the ability to be able to just go somewhere when I want to go and not have to come back to let the dog out or arrange for a dog sitter. And unfortunately cats and any other dander producing, furry friends which might be less impacting are not an option for us due to my allergies.
So weeks and weeks of my son’s begging finally caused me to cave and I said I’d be open to a dog under the stipulation that the dog was a smaller, non-shedding dog. And we began our dog hunt.
The whole dog search experience brought back memories of our adoption search for our son. I know this sounds crazy but it’s really not that dissimilar a process although on a much less expensive and shorter time scale. Like adopting a child, adopting a pet is an overwhelming process for a new pet owner as there is so much to learn and decide. First you need to research breeds of dogs you want which isn’t much different from deciding the race of your child. There is also much to learn about the differences between shelters and other rescue organizations you choose to work with much like differences I found in organizations in adopting a child. You feel good about certain organizations and not so good about others. How the organization operates is super important as well and how they handle placements that don’t work out. Also, after looking around and waiting for awhile your criteria for what you will accept in your animal (or adopted child) begins to change. So after several weeks of looking around for a non-shedding, small dog which are hard to find I realized that perhaps it was more important and cost effective to have a shedding dog with a mellow personality from an organization that we felt good about.
So after picking the organization we liked, which primarily accepted well tempered rescue dogs, we chose to visit their most recent batch of dogs. That’s when we met Luke. Luke was a mixed breed shedding dog and couldn’t have been sweeter. We got to visit with him at a neighborhood home in a peaceful environment and take him for a walk. We all got good feelings about him and liked him very much so we decided to give it a go.
Once we got Luke home it became very clear that having a dog was going to completely change our lives. Our son was no longer the center or our world – now this dog was. We learned right away that Luke must have been cared for at his shelter by a female as he followed me around (the only female in the house) like a shadow. At first it was very cute and endearing but then the reality of what I had just agreed to take on became very overwhelming to me. I began to retreat and I froze up. I felt paralyzed in my own home and this sweet, loving creature somehow made my living space feel very small. I began to wonder if I would get used to things over time but inside my gut was screaming that I didn’t want to get used to this. All the while my son and husband were bonding more and more with this loving new found furry family member.
After one very restless night and after going to church solo the next morning and reflecting on my predicament, I decided I needed to be honest with myself and my family and fess up about my feelings. Telling my son and husband that I didn’t want this dog was quite possibly one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. In just a few short minutes my son’s innocent little heart and dream of having a dog was squelched. I saw visible disappointment from my animal loving husband. I truly felt like the worst person in the world.
After lots of crying from my son, myself and misty eyes from Scott after dropping the dog off at a foster home, we are all recovering from this today. We truly hope that Luke lands in a good loving home where ALL the family members are on board – he deserves nothing but the best.
Some of my most interesting work comes from when I don’t know what to draw in my sketchbook – which actually happens often. These two pieces are an example of just that.
The one on the left I simply drew my paintbrush then later I felt the painting needed more so I added the paint on the top of the page which helps finalize the piece.
The piece below was the way the watercolor tray and pen were situated on the table in front of me when I was pondering once again what to draw.
What to draw? Start with what is sitting right in front of you.
By Birthmother – My first child turned ten years old in May. It’s December now, the very LAST day of December. I’ve been putting this journal entry off for THAT long, not because I’ve had anything better to do, but because I’ve been afraid of addressing my feelings and maybe even more afraid of sharing them.
There’s so little I can do now where my children are concerned. At the beginning, when I was pregnant, my role was so clear: Keep the baby healthy. Find loving parents with all the awesome parenting qualities that my husband and I did not have. Sign the paperwork.
And now… legally, I have no role and no responsibilities. My work is done.
The easiest thing to do is disappear from the picture. I don’t think anyone would blame me, and perhaps it would be easier for everyone involved. My life goes on and so does theirs.
But, first of all, that’s not what we signed up for. Open adoption implies a continuing relationship. The details vary from family to family, but the principle remains that there is value in keeping the channels of communication open.
…and somehow I suspect that the disappearing act is only ACTUALLY easiest for ME. Because I HAVE been offered channels of communication. I HAVE been offered pictures and phone calls. I have not been ignored or neglected. And when those channels open… and I am offered glimpses of my children… I’m the one who doesn’t always respond. I’m the one who rarely reaches out. Why?
I chicken out, that’s why. I love seeing that my children are ok, watching them grow, but actually TALKING to them? Talking is terrifying! What do I say? What if I’m so happy to see/hear them that I can barely talk? What if I say something stupid, or say something that upsets them? What if the emotions are so strong that it becomes hard to say goodbye?
I send my children letters at Christmas and on birthdays. It’s old-fashioned, I know, but in addition to being something concrete to put in their hands, letters are also very safe for me, the same way emails and blogs are safe. I can type out each paragraph as slowly as I need to, editing as I go.
At this point in my typing, I’d really like to do a little editing to make myself sound like a better person, but somehow it seems more important to share, honestly, that open adoption can be terrifying at the same time it is rewarding. Seeing my children grow means seeing what I lost.
I’m not GOING to disappear, as tempting as it might be. When the children call, I will do my best to answer. When they ask questions, I will do my best to find something to say. Because they deserve whatever attention they ask for. Because they are beautiful and I would be a fool to pass up any chance to get to know them.
I heard an interesting talk a few Sundays ago from the reverend at my church (cslsj.org) about a monkey trying to get a donkey to climb a tree. The monkey kept getting frustrated again and again in his seemingly endless pursuit. The reverend’s point in short was that often we, monkeys, try to get others, donkeys, to do or think what we want them to do or think when really what we need is more monkeys. That’s so true. How many times in our lives have we wanted donkeys to be monkeys and visa versa? I’m totally a monkey and I’m trying to push my son, the donkey, up a tree. I want him to be more like me when he’s not.
My son is GREAT just as he is. He’s an adorable, healthy, innocent boy with lots of personality, energy and intelligence. I’m truly blessed. Yet as his parent there is sometimes a contradiction going on because I think that he would be great IF he actually tried at things he did, or IF he actually listened to me. (AKA: came up in the tree with me which mostly he does not do because he’s doing his own darn stubborn thing on the ground!)
As an adoptive parent of a child who is quite different from me, it’s easy for me to get wrapped up in the fact that my son does not have my genes and therefore is not like me in many ways. But really, as my husband pointed out, does this matter when raising a child? Isn’t the point of raising a child, any child not just an adopted one, to raise him or her to be the best person that he or she can be even when sometimes he or she seems nothing like you and pushes you to the limit daily. I have friends with biological children that might attest that their children too can be donkey’s in their lives and I’m certain my parents would tell me at many points while raising me and even today that I was or am a donkey in their lives.
I believe it’s the ego that desires the children we raise to resemble ourselves. To be Mini-Me’s, which is why I think many adoptive parents need to mourn the loss of having their own biological children. I know first hand what that grieving period was like, yet I didn’t expect that after 6 years of raising my adopted son my ego would still being desiring that my son take after me at least a little bit.
I wonder if my path would be an easier one if I lived with someone who was more similar to me vs. living with someone who’s sometimes more of my polar opposite which can be utterly exhausting. Being female and raising a boy can feel overwhelming for any mom; we all know the saying, “Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus.” Well having an adopted child of the opposite sex sometimes adds complexity to this saying because it can feel like your child is not only from a different planet but is also from another galaxy!
Finding a way to deal with and to embrace my child’s uniqueness has been a process for me, one in which I’m clearly still working on but I know it’s worth the effort or I risk being continually disappointed throughout my life. I believe all parents need to grapple with this at some point, both adoptive and biological. We all must let go of wanting our children to be carbon copies of ourselves and push our egos aside because there is nothing wrong with a child that is vastly different than us. On the positive side it can be very eye opening and enlightening seeing the world from such a different perspective from your own. Being able to let go of our own desires and expectations and embrace what we have allows us to stop fighting endless battles with our children and gives them allowance to be the unique beings that they are.
Whether our child is the donkey, the monkey, or a creature from a different galaxy altogether he or she can the live his or her life to their fullest potential without interference from us because we’ll no longer be getting in their way pushing him or her to be different; instead we’ll simply be watching our child shine.
We had time to kill in the car this past weekend during a recent road trip so my son suggested we play the 20 questions game. In this game a person thinks of someone and doesn’t tell the other person who they are thinking of and the other person(s) tries to guess who that person is thinking of by asking questions that are answered with either ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ I love and hate this game simultaneously (love because I like games but hate because if I don’t guess the person in a reasonable amount of time I find the game to be very annoying.) Keep in mind playing with my 6-years-old adds complexity to the game because I need to factor in that some of the answers he is providing me may not be accurate. Reluctantly I agreed to play. My son informs me he is thinking of someone.
“Is it a girl?” I ask, since we’ve just come from one of his girl friend’s birthday party. “No,” he replies.
“Is it a man?” I ask. “Yes,” he replies.
“Does he live in San Luis Obispo?” I ask, thinking it may be his girl friend’s father. “No.” he replies.
“Does he live in California?” I ask, thinking that will at least narrow down how I might know this man. “Yes,” my son replies. (Now a red flag should have come up for me when asking this question since I know that often my son confuses California with the greater USA; however, I mistakenly assume my son’s answer is accurate and I go on.)
“Does he live in our neighborhood?” I ask. “No,” he says.
“Does he have kids?” I ask. “No,” he says. What man without kids would my son be thinking of? Any California relatives on Scott’s side of the family that would be on our son’s mind would have kids. I need to take a new angle to figure this out.
“Does he work with Daddy?” I ask, taking a different tact and trying to figure out the connection of how I possibly know this man. “No,” he says.
“Is he friends with Daddy?” I ask. “He’s friends with ALL THREE of us,” he says (breaking the ‘yes/no’ answer rule.) This throws me for a loop. Now I am really confused.
A man, living in California, that doesn’t live in our neighborhood, doesn’t have kids, or work with Daddy, and is friends with all three of us… who is this man? I rack my brain for possible people repeating everything my son has confirmed about this man out loud a few times. Annoyed, I ask help from Scott who’s been listening the whole time from the driver’s seat. “Do you know of anyone that meets that description Scott, someone without kids?”
“Well he did HAVE a baby,” pipes up our son from the back seat, in which I respond, “Wait, you told me he didn’t have kids!” I’m feeling really annoyed now thinking how could he possibly get the answer to that question incorrect? I wonder if there are other questions he might have answered incorrectly as well. I’m processing this new contradictory statement in my head: he doesn’t have kids but he did have a baby. Did this man’s baby die? Before I could ask anything more, I hear Scott ask, “Is it John?” in which our son shouts triumphantly, “Yes!”
I’m dumbfounded. What? “Really?” I say. John, our son’s birthfather? Other than pictures we show our son we haven’t seen or talked with John in two years! I go over his description again: A man, that doesn’t live in our neighborhood, doesn’t have kids, or work with Daddy, and is friends with all three of us. He doesn’t have kids but had a baby. Of course! It all makes perfect sense now. Brilliant – minus of course the glaring geographical error of saying that he lives in California when he actually lives in New York!
It stuck me later how interesting the incident was because out of nowhere our son surprised us again by thinking of his birth parent at a time when we weren’t expecting it. He also showed us how unconfused and secure he is about his birth story which was evident through the answers he gave to simple questions about his birthfather which essentially described him perfectly: a man who doesn’t have kids, who had a baby, who is friends with all three of us.
