Well folks, I’m off on my long awaited vacation today!

So there won’t be any updates here, as I don’t intend to be anywhere near a computer for the next week and a half (well, except to maybe shoot off a quick email to my Mom so that she knows I’m alive and to Long Board who has requested a similar “I’m alive” udpate so he doesn’t worry – huh? – I’m not used to this, but I could get used to it!)

Anyway, I thought I’d give y’all something to think about for me while I’m gone.

And, sicne they’re fun, a little poll to track your thoughts

I started off writing about adoption. And that’s it. Then some other stuff started to sneak in. Dating adventures, family stories, work vents. Recently I think I write even more about the “other stuff” than I do adoption….I didn’t intend for it to go that way, it just did. But I thought I’d check in and see what folks thought about that. This blog will NEVER leave adoption entirely. It’s the reason it started and who knows? It could sway WAY back to adoption in a second depending on my mood, my daughter, etc.

Anyway, enough rambling. Time to take the pulse of my readers!

Thanks you guys!

And I’ll be back in a couple weeks!!!!

 

I’ve said it many times – just about every time I’ve got a visit coming up or when I’ve just had a visit or when I’m thinking about emailing Dee. I struggle to find “me” in our interactions sometimes. I’m much better at doing this when Cupcake and I have our little alone moments – no one watching, judging, observing my every move. No one potentially making decisions based on my behavior, movements, words. It’s nice to give Cupcake the real me.

And I want so very badly to give that to Dee….and I get closer every time we have a visit (I think).

But this behavior of not being myself isn’t exclusive to my relationship with Dee. I’ve tended to be a bit of an…..accomodater in other relationships. It’s often caused a problem, mostly between me and my Mom, because she’s quick to weigh in on the slightest change in my behavior.

In the past, she’s accused these changes on many things. I’m not eating enough. I’m not getting enough sleep. I’m doing drugs. There’s “some guy.”

It’s incredibly frustrating….sometimes people just change. Sometimes people are in different moods. Sometimes there isn’t some magical answer you can point to.

And sometimes Moms are right.

There was a while where I was the “change for a guy” girl. Thinking about that now? Makes me so angry at myself. I wish I could grab seventeen year old me by the shoulders and say, “What the hell do you think you’re doing??”

But I can’t.

What I can do is grab my twenty-seven year old shoulders (it’s been ten years????) and make sure that I don’t make the same mistakes that past TG did.

Which is how Long Board and I got into this conversation the other night as we lay in the dark:

TG: So…….you asked me what my friends thought of you the other day….did your friends say anything about me?

Long pause

LB: They said…….they said that I was more myself with you than I’ve been in a long time.

TG: Yeah?

LB: I can…..well….sometimes I just get different. More subdued when I’m with a girl.

Long pause

TG: Well that’s really about you – come on – what did they say about me?

LB: No, that is about you. That’s entirely about you. Because I can be myself around my friends – that I can be myself around you. I don’t know……I just haven’t been this comfortable to do that…….in……..I don’t know…..

Long pause

TG: That’s funny……

LB: Why?

TG: Because my Mom said the same thing about you – or me – or us, kinda.

LB: Oh yeah?

TG: Yeah. Well actually she said it before she even met you.

LB: How’s that?

TG: She just said that she knew she was going to like you and that you must be a good guy ’cause I was acting “normal.”

LB: You don’t usually?

TG: I guess not…..

LB: Like how?

TG: Like I just am different. I’ll like things I don’t really like, or….I don’t know, I’m just more…….agreeable.

LB: I know what you mean.

TG: I’m glad you don’t change who you are around me though….cause I kinda like you the way you are.

LB: Me too.

And then he rolled over, gave me a hug, kissed my forehead and we went to sleep.

 

It was the kind of honest and open conversation that can sometimes only be said in the dark. The kind where you don’t say that much, but you understand that you’re saying a lot more. The kind that’s inevitable if you want to move forward.

It was the kind of conversation that made me wish that Dee and I could have some “dark.” A cover in which some honesty could come out…..not that the light isn’t honest, that’s not what I mean, and I’m losing myself even….but it’s just that especially honest and pure self that comes out when the threat of detection is taken away.

The kind that we need in order to to move forward.

Around the time of my last visit with Cupcake, I was dangerously close to having to cancel the visit. I was stressed out, worried, and afraid of the ramifications. In the end, things worked out. I had a wonderful visit with my daughter and was able to fulfill all of my familial obligations.

But I have to recognize that it won’t always be that way. I can’t always do everything, be everything to everyone. I need to be able to stand firm and draw the line in the sand.

And now is the time for that line.

Because Dee and I have two tentative dates floating around for a possible visit. And the first  of those is coming up – fast. We left off with a “these two dates are great, we’ll firm up closer to them” type of email. Since I’m leaving in three days and won’t return until four days before the first suggested date? That “closer to them” time is NOW!

And I can’t do it.

It’s too much, too fast, with too many other things going on.

I have to realize that I’m coming back from a long-ish international trip and that I’m going to be jet-lagged and time-confused for a few days. I have to realize that in the days following my return, I have to move everything out of my apartment and into my new apartment. I have to realize I need to schedule the walk-through of my old apartment with my landlady. I have to realize that I’ll be getting used to my new roommate. I have to realize that I’ll be seeing Long Board. I have to realize that there’s just too much going on that weekend.

Which sounds bad.

There should never be too much going on for me to see my daughter!

Right?

Well, there is.

Not because my daughter isn’t of paramount importance. Not because I don’t want to see her. And certainly not because I don’t love her immensely.

I just can’t do this visit on this one particular day.

And for the first time? I don’t feel guilty about that.

Quite often there’s too much going on with Dee and Cupcake for them to have a visit. Heck, quite often there’s too much going on for me to receive a full email update. Or pictures.

And so, on this one occassion, I’ve got too much going on.

I’m more than happy to move things around the next weekend to accomodate the visit. But the particular weekend that we thought was going to work? Isn’t.

So now I must send an email to Dee. And hopefully she’ll be understanding and stick to the second date we selected. If not? I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.

I found a new apartment

 

AND

 

*wait for it*

 

it comes with a new bed and mattress!

***********

 

I am freaking out excited. Once Husker dropped the bomb that he would be moving in with his girlfriend I was completely taken by surprise and was immediately thrust into emergency planning mode. I had very little time to figure something out, so I headed to the land where roommates (and the occasional serial killers) are found and spent hours scouring Craigslist. I was really just looking for examples of other people’s posts so that I could find the *perfect* way to describe my current apartment. The *perfect* way to describe what I was looking for in my third roommate.

I knew the odds were not in my favor. Two years with two excellent roommates? Statistically it was time for a doozy.

In looking for the description of my dreams, I ended up reading some ads for apartments in my hometown. Before I knew it, I found myself responding to one that sounded perfect. Close to the beach, close to a “main street” sort of place with bars and restaurants and shopping – even a bakery called the Cupcakery! I got the address and drove by the sweet little duplex, picturing me living there. And I hoped. I hoped that this would work out for us. 

Oh, and if this feels repetetive, yes, I’ve said most of this before…

But that was before I met her.

That was before I went inside the apartment.

That was before I saw the fireplace (!) and the little patio and the fact that the room comes complete with a Queen sized memory foam mattress and bed (that the girl living there bought for her sister thinking she was moving in – but she didn’t – and I reap the reward!!!!) For the record – Long Board could NOT be more thrilled about that part….I think he’s hoping that we get rid of the futon in some sort of burning ritual……

But more than any of that? That was before this was a locked up done deal.

I’m moving in the weekend of November 15 and I could not be happier.

I’ll come up with a nickname for new roomie soon enough I’m sure, and provide an adequate description for the new apartment so that Mama2Roo can have a clear picture of what life is like to replace her vision of me living next door to Jack Tripper in my beach apartment But before that – I gotta pack up everything for my trip AND for the big move – and quick!!!

 

Heather @ PNR has posted the most recent addition to the OA Roundtable (we’re on eight of them already!!!) so I’ll try to post my most recent addition! (Older contributions to OART found here).

This week’s prompt:

Write about a blogger (or bloggers) who influenced your real-life open adoption, and how. It might be someone who became an offline friend who supports and challenges you. Or a writer from a different perspective who makes you uncomfortable, but gets you thinking. Maybe a blogger who doesn’t even know you are reading. Tell us about them and how they’ve affected you.

I started blogging before I even read blogs. I perused the occasional blog here and there, but basically my introduction to blogging was my own writing. I was using this as my journal – as my outlet – as a place to figure out what in the hell was going on sometimes.

There’s no “how-to” guidebook on being a first Mom.

And I sure as heck haven’t found one about how to be a Safe Haven using first Mom that ended up in an open adoption when she had no idea what she was getting herself into!

Some of the blogs that I latched onto, in the beginning especially, came from people that commented on my posts. Or from the links I found on the blogs of people that commented on my posts. I wasn’t  the most….er…..techie blogger there was. I didn’t “get” GoogleReader (and let’s face it, today I’m not that much better) and I didn’t search for adoption blogs.

But I remember finding Coco.

Posts like her Open Letter to Adoptive Parents, made me realize that it was okay to have, and to talk about my thoughts that are “sad, depressing, or even angry.”

When I felt like society didn’t know what to do with us, Coco’s words made sense to me:

We are struggling to be heard in a society that still views us as “fallen women”. It is incredibly hard and lonely to keep putting ourselves out there, day after day, knowing that there are people who are reading these thoughts and scoffing at them, at us.

I still felt lonely, but I didn’t feel alone…..

Our stories aren’t the same, but her stories made sense to me. We’ve both had those moments, holding the physical representations of our memories, and crying. We’ve both vented about similar issues and hearing her use her voice, I believe helped me to find mine.

And today, Coco doesn’t write about adoption as much. But that’s okay. Because we all ebb and flow with what we write about. That’s part of what makes her so real. And that great writing? Well that keeps me hooked whether she’s sharing a story from her past or posting hilarious/terrifying looks at advertisements from our Dark Ages.

And while she might not write about adoption constantly – the comments she’s made for me when I write about adoption? They’ve led me to email Dee when I was scared to, to think about things and deal with them when I needed to, and to be okay with who I was when I didn’t know how to.

I’ll stop now, before she thinks I’m a crazy Cyber Stalker, but there it is. Coco is an amazing blogger and was someone that I needed in order for me to get to where I am on my journey today.

 

Thanks Coco!!!

Some of the “birthmom stereotypes” just roll off my back. Because I’m so far from being that. Call me a crack head, that’s okay – because I wouldn’t know crack if it landed in my lap! Talk about me having no drive or ambition because I’ll gladly print you out a copy of my resume. But, I have to admit, there are some stereotypes that…..concern me.

Drinking is one of them.

Like some alcoholics, I’m eager to say that I don’t have a drinking problem. But unlike an alcoholic – I really don’t! (Which is was an alcoholic would say, but we can go round and round like this forever unless you just decide to take my word on it!)

Drinking impacts the first parent in two ways: the judgements about us drinking in general, and the judgements about us drinking while pregnant.

Both of them are on my mind right now.

I got a little triggered yesterday when I read someone basically saying that birthparents drink during pregnancy because they know they’re not going to parent the baby – so who cares? It won’t be their problem.

Yowsa – that’s a bold statement to make. Of course, it wasn’t backed up by any data other than the tried and true, “you know, I’m on a lot of forums and that just seems to be the case.” Ah yes, the report on the tiny percent you’re exposed to.

And here’s the thing – I’m no different. I’m going to report on the percent that I’m exposed to. And I can say without pause, that wasn’t the case for me, or for any of the women that I’ve ever spoken to about this that are first Mothers.

But, in the interest of full disclosure – I did drink when I was pregnant. Because – wait for it - I didn’t know I was pregnant. Which, for the record, also happens in pregnancies where the woman (or the couple) parents the child, and in pregnancies that were planned! So I’m not going to beat myself up about it. Cupcake is a perfectly happy, healthy toddler turned little girl – and thank goodness. I wasn’t perfect – but realistically, most people on the planet aren’t perfect. I’m okay with being among them.

I’m SO not perfect, that I even had a sip of champagne after I knew I was pregnant. Get out the pitchforks, it’s true. I was standing in my office with my three best friends as we prepared to walk up to get our diplomas. One of the girls poured us all glasses and we raised them in a toast. Terrified, I took the tiniest sip you’ve ever seen before walking outside. Once safely there, I did a flip of the wrist splashing the rest of the Dixie cup’s contents into a bush. Thus, the flip and splash was born – and was used at other outdoor parties through the summer. Another helpful tactic? Taking your drink with you to the bathroom. Drains make excellent receptacles for drinks.

The trigger-filled-commenter continued by talking about 5 drinks in one night being “binge drinking” and how that kind of drinking probably cant be stopped just because you see a little pink plus sign.

False.

It can be.

I certainly did it.

But the label “binge drinker” stuck with me…Today? It’s not all that uncommon that I could consume five mixed drinks at a party. I don’t feel like I need to, but just more of a “why not?” I maintain control, I don’t drive, and I’m not a total shit-show. I don’t do this often, but once in a while, sure.

That label though – “binge drinker” – it just feeds this fear of mine that my actions are somehow indicative of all first Moms. That I admit to having five cocktails at my best friends birthday/karaoke dinner (do people do karaoke with fewer than five drinks???? – joke by the way) and somehow I’ve admitted that first Moms are trainwrecks and I’m just leading the way. That I say Long Board and I drank a couple bottles of wine at home and all of a sudden I’m the poster (b)Mom for sucking the life out of a box of Franzia during some pathetic bender.

I don’t know why I take the drinking thing so personally….maybe because I have a brother that is an alcoholic. Maybe because I know all too well what the problem looks like – what it can do to a family.

But I also know that it’s because I’m haunted by the impression that Cupcake might have of me…that Dee might have of me….as some “binge-drinking-birthmom” that probably drank her way through her pregnancy. Cause, ya know, I wasn’t gonna parent anyway.

And that disgusts me.

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As promised, I’ve been monopolizing my own thoughts with concerns about Long Board and Cupcake. And since it’s Adoption Free Friday, I must shift the focus of my freak-outs.

And this weekend provides the perfect distraction: Long Board meeting my brother Ram, his wife, my Mom and Dad.

Holy. Shit.

My parents haven’t even known a guy existed in my life since Cupcake’s bdad, and that was four years ago (yes, you’re doing the math correctly, she’s not quite three, but he was gone about seven months before she was born and he’d met my parents a bit before that….)

Point being – everyone’s pretty interested in the fact that I’m bringing a guy home.

***********

Remember that thing making me a stressball? The whole being stranded without a roommate situation? Well, I started to look for a new roomate using Craigslist. Yes, people warn me about being killed from my post, but I’m naively confident that those things won’t happen to me – which is what every 20-something girl says before the worst does happen. But anyway, I had some SERIOUS writer’s block and couldn’t come up with a good way to describe my apartment! Which only was extra frustrating because the last time I advertised it I did an awesome job writing it up!

Hoping to find inspiration, I read some posts other people had put up….a few minutes later I found myself sending an email to a girl looking for a roommate in the city where my parents live. The city where I work. The city I lived for 25 years. All of a sudden, I realized I was really excited about the prospect of moving home to my hometown.

SO – after giving my 30 days notice at my apartment, I will be moving home(ish)!

LB is super excited for me, my parents are freaking out happy, and my brothers are even getting in on the excitement and forgetting that they’re supposed to play the role of “very cool older brother.” It feels pretty good – and I realize that Husker leaving was probably the best thing that could happen right now. Because I definitely feel like I have that whole door closing, window opening thing happening….

***********

And because I feel like it, I’m also going to toss out an honorary face slap. No, I’m not doing the whole list of people that deserve a good slap, but a “friend” of mine recently pulled some BS and I just have to send the slap out into space….possibly to keep me from actually hitting him.

Two weeks ago I took Long Board with me to a friend’s birthday party. These friends were all really excited to meeting him – because they too haven’t met a guy I’m dating in YEARS. Like longer than Mom and Dad actually….Anyway, one “friend” came late-ish with his girlfriend, strutted in wearing the tightest pants I’ve ever seen on a man, and began regaling us all with stories about the Hollywood party he’d just attended, playing the worst version of the name dropping game I’d ever seen.

He proceeded to introduce me to his girlfriend, and I introduced him to LB.

I thought it all was okay.

Apparently the next day he called the Birthday Boy to talk about how I apparently couldn’t keep my eyes off his pants and was completely enamored by them, was totally enthralled with his stories about celebrity, and then began to bash LB.

And it’s not like he said LB had a bad personality, was rude, nothing. He went for his looks.

?????

What guy starts digging on another guy’s appearance? And to be honest, the thing he said is kinda true…it’s something that LB is pretty self-conscious about too – which made it an extra dick move to me. He basically said (though I’m using an example body part, cause this isn’t what it is), “And what’s with LB’s nose? It’s HUGE! I mean seriously – how is TG dating a guy with that nose? What is she thinking? Didn’t you notice it? He has a ginormous nose!”

Whatever made him think that it was appropriate for him to call up our other friends and say this? I have no idea.

But I know this – it deserves a slap in the face. Asshat.

So yeah, that’s what’s on my mind in Non-Adoption Land today….I’ll let y’all know how the big “meet” goes tomorrow night! Until then, I’m off for a couple days to spend time with my beau.

I’ve always been a sort of “denial” girl. If it’s bad news? I don’t really wanna hear it. I told Long Board not long ago that I don’t often want the ugly truth, but am very content with the pretty lie. Not on the big things – but with the little things? Absolutely!

So “honesty” doesn’t seem as black and white to me as it does to some people.

Now I realize this next part is going to sound absolutely nutball coming from a girl that hid her pregnancy, never told friends or family, and is now in a secret open adoption! However, when it comes to adoption – my instinct is to say that honesty is the best policy no matter what! (Which I realize means I’m breaking my own policy).

And sometimes I believe that…..but I’m the first to admit that I am susceptible to falling into that dark world of denial. That world where the pretty lie is better than the ugly truth. And I don’t think that I’m the only one.

I do think that there are some truth’s however that need to be upheld no matter what.

I believe that a child has absolute rights to know that he/she is adopted, and to have access to as much of his/her biological familial history, medical information, etc. No questions asked. That’s their truth and they should know it. If their parents (aparents, bparents, whatever letter you wanna put in front of ‘parents’ – whomever it is) are scared to tell the child the truth? I think that’s something that they need to work out. It’s not fair to the child.

So – with such a strong stance on that particular bit of truth, how can I find the rest a little hazy? How can I sit here day after day babbling about my fears of telling Long Board about Cupcake?

Because it’s different.

Cupcake is my daughter. My daughter that never asked to be adopted. My daughter that will always be my daughter no matter what. Her adoption impacts her directly. It’s a part of her story. Keeping that from her is a lie by omission – but I think it’s also more than that. It’s a constant deception about who she is.

Long Board is my boyfriend. He never asked to date a woman with a daughter (that I know of) but he did choose to date me. When he chose to date me, there was a lot that he didn’t know about me, and a lot that I didn’t know about him. There’s a lot we still don’t know about each other…but that’s the point of dating, right? To learn those things. Long Board will not always be my boyfriend no matter what. Now I’m not forecasting a breakup at this point – but let’s be realistic. Of all the relationships one has in their life, very few of them end up being the long-term-love-of-your-life-picket-fence-golden-anniversary-die-in-each-others-arms deals. I’m not saying LB is or isn’t this, but that I certainly don’t know yet! We’ve known each other for three months and thirteen days. And we’ve been dating ever since. Yes, I am keeping something from him. I am lying by omission…..but I think all dating is at some point lying by omission….right?

How many of us go on a first date and lay all of our cards on the table?

There’s lots I haven’t told LB….I haven’t told him about the guy I lost my virginity to. I haven’t told him about the fight my Mom and I had that changed our relationship forever. I haven’t told him about the abusive boyfriend I had. I haven’t told him how many guys I’ve slept with. I haven’t told him about the things I’m most afraid of or the things that I want most in the world.

And I haven’t told him about Cupcake.

All of these might be things he’d want to know about – and we’ll get there with most of them, but in due time.

It’s easy to point to Cupcake and say, “But that’s HUGE. How can you not tell him about that???”

And I don’t know what my answer is except to say that I’m not ready.

But that I’m putting more work into being ready for this than I’ve put into any emotional thing in a really long time – maybe ever.

Let’s face it – I over think things to DEATH. (I mean, I have a whole category about it!) So I think it’s safe to say that this will be the first of many posts that completely overanalyze my current plan to tell Long Board about Cupcake.

Phew.

Just saying that makes me need to sit back and breathe for a minute!

I’m sure I’ll tackle the myriad issues that accompany me telling him in an uber roundabout way, so if I lose you? I’m sure you’re not alone!

I mentioned yesterday (in a comment, so if you missed it, that’s why) that I probably won’t end up telling him until January….partially because of my fine skills as a procrastinator, partially because I’m scared to death, and partially because our schedules keep us pretty busy - and worse yet – pretty far away from each other sometimes! Couple that with the onslaught of the holidays, Cupcake’s birthday, vacations? I just haven’t found the “right” day to pencil it in.

But, I’ll take another stab at it – publicly – to see if I can come up with something sooner (pending of course that the nausea that comes over me when I think about this goes away to the point where I’m quasi-confident I could say the words without actually throwing up on him).

LB is coming up this weekend.

Friday afternoon.

I’m very, very happy and excited about this. And also a little sad as it looks like it’s VERY possible it’ll be the last time he’ll ever be in my apartment! The last time we’d ever be there together….kinda weird for me to think about….

Anyway, not gonna tell him Friday night cause I’m already an emotional mess about the apartment business. Also – he’s meeting my parents on Saturday. Speaking of nauseous….sheesh! So, I think it’s pretty safe to say that we’ve got this weekend pretty well booked up with things that have the potential to be emotionally exhausting!

The next weekend he goes out of town for a wedding, the next week I leave for my vacation (yes, dear bloggy readers, you get about a two weeks hiatus from me – enjoy!) Flip the page to November – yes, I’m really calendaring right now – and it’s the weekend of the 14th before I see him again. The weekend where I *might* be moving into a new apartment (again, details to follow once they’re firmed up) and catching up as we will have been apart twenty-six days….not exactly the longest time we’ve spent apart, but something we’re not looking forward to nonetheless!

So, not that first weekend back I’m thinking.

Then the next weekend? Potential visit with Cupcake and Dee. Also, her birthday is that Monday. Translation? I’m an emotional mess that needs to focus on myself, not on getting LB to understand the situation.

The next weekend? Thanksgiving. See above.

The next weekend? We’re in DECEMBER ALREADY. And I haven’t even started to point out that LB has committments too….family across the country, mid-terms and finals and stuff in there somewhere, his life stuff! December just gets busy – FAST. It’s holidays and misteltoe and Christmas trees. And it’s family and emotional and again, I’m not sure what I can handle to be honest.

So then we’re in January. And it’s a new year. And I know there’s no “right” time. No “easy” time – but I’ll have some distance from the visit, from her birthday, and who knows, maybe I’ll be inspired by all that resolution crap!

And January 2nd will be 6 months for us (knock on wood!) Which seems…..right-ish.

So there’s my justification for me being a giant procrastinator.

Now accepting alernate time tables!