Friday, January 8, 2010

I don't embarras easily...

I have to face facts.  The Kid has his own agenda and a lot of it includes embarrassing/humiliating his mother and father.

The other night, we didn’t feel like cooking so we went to our local sushi restaurant for dinner. The Kid said that he had to go to the bathroom. This sushi restaurant is particularly small – just a few tables and a sushi bar. Because of its size, we have a view of the bathroom and who goes in and out so we let him go alone - with the requisite reminders to flush and wash his hands.  He came out proudly a few minutes later and as he walked to our table he found it important to announce (in his outside voice)  “I went poo!”  The funny thing is, we are so used to being embarrassed that this hardly fazed us at all.  However, the childless young couple seated next to us seemed less than amused.

I’m going to lay a few more on the table for you – so next time your little one decides to humiliate you; you’ll know you aren’t alone…

We are on vacation and trying to catch a boat to an island which will be our home for the next 5 days.  We park our car about a half mile away and begin the walk to the boat dock with our bags and The Kid in tow.  Did I mention it was hot?  Before we get to the docks, The Kid is complaining that he can’t walk because it’s too hot.  My husband picks The Kid up, puts him on his shoulders and we keep going. By the time we get to the docks we’re sweaty – and late.  We were told to go to “Dock H”.  If we miss this boat we’re screwed so we begin to run – past docks A, B, C, D, E, F, G, I – wait – what?  My husband who is voicing exactly what I was thinking says “Where the fuck is H?”  We run up and down the docks a few more times and finally see our boat – on dock C.  Once we’re on the boat, we realize that we’re headed to a seriously swanky place. We are the ONLY ones on this lovely yacht and they greet us with champagne and orange juice.  We are taken up to meet the captain and he greets us one by one.  The Kid then tugs on the captain’s sleeve and says in the sweetest little voice “excuse me”.  My husband and I smile at each other because we’re so proud that we have a child with such great manners.  When the captain looks down The Kid asks “where the fuck is H?” 

Yet another.  I’m sitting on the steps of my sister-in-law’s front porch.  The kid is next to me and has decided that it would be fun to look through my purse.  When it is time to go, I ask him for my purse back to which he responds “no!”  I ask him again with the same response.  As I am not a particularly patient person, I lean down and pull the purse from his sweaty little hands.  As he loses his grip, he also loses his balance and rolls - in slow motion down the two steps.  There is much crying, lots of hugs and the drama is over.  Fast forward two hours and we’re at the grocery store – kid in cart in the cereal aisle with 5 other people. In this moment, he takes the opportunity to ask “Mommy – why did you push me down the stairs?”

Of course there are more – and more to come I am sure… Feel free to share yours! 

Tuesday, January 5, 2010


No – not in THAT way…

On Sunday morning we were partaking in one of my favorite activities – family snuggle.  My son, my husband and I cuddle up in bed and just talk.  I love this time of day because everyone is relaxed and kind of silly, there are no distractions, no TV, no chores, no rushing around to “get things done”. We bond (I know that word is so cheesy). 

This particular Sunday, my son made up a new game that I’m not sure I like – I call it the flying headbutt.  Now to be fair, he didn’t do it on purpose. He was evading his tickling daddy with some cool ninja-like moves and slammed his head into mine.  How he came out of this whole thing without a scratch is beyond me.  When he hit me, I actually saw stars and almost vomited right then and there from the pain. I ended up with a giant blue lump above my right eye.  It looks like the nub of a horn, like you would see on a baby deer but less cute.

Today is Tuesday and my horn is no less prominent, in fact my boss called me a unicorn.  I have no idea how long this thing will be around. What I do know is that there will be no more ninja moves during family snuggle.  Unless I’m wearing a helmet.

Monday, January 4, 2010

The year of the search

It happened again, right before the holidays I was at a doctor’s appointment and had to fill out one of those “new patient” forms. You know the one – the seventeen page document asking questions about you, your health history and your family’s health history.  This time it was at the dermatologist and the questions were based around my family history of skin cancer. As usual, with a vague sense of uneasiness, I wrote “I don’t know” on the forms. 

I was adopted.  In general, this isn’t something that preys on my mind. I have always known I was adopted – I don’t even remember being told – I just knew.  My older sister was also adopted while my younger brother and sister were not.  I have never felt like an outside in my family, or that the other kids were more loved, we were just a family.  However, I have always wondered… what do my biological relatives look like?  At almost 5’11, I’m the tallest person in my family and the only physical characteristic I have in common with them is eye color – all the females in my family have blue eyes. Then again, so does a LARGE chunk of the population!

Now that I have a son of my own, I would also love to have family health history.  My biological mother was 16 when she had me and I was told that she was “healthy”.  Well no fricking kidding!!! She was 16!  After my teens, it was determined that I have a faulty heart valve, and an underactive thyroid.  I certainly didn’t have that information when I was 16.  Two of my girlfriends were diagnosed with breast cancer before they were 40.  Then again, they have a family history of breast cancer so they knew to be vigilant. 

I’ve decided that 2010 is going to be the year of “the search”.  I have gotten a lot of conflicting information on my biological mother. She lied a lot.  She and her boyfriend were living in IL when she got pregnant. They packed up and ran away to CA – they were young and in love, and thought that they would get jobs and raise me.  That pipe dream lasted all of about 2 weeks before they ran out of money, she moved into a maternity home and he moved into his car.  When they got to CA they lied about their ages, where they were from, and even their names.  Imagine the elation I felt when I found out her name and then the unbelievable frustration I felt when I found out that I had spent 3 years searching for someone who doesn’t exist.  I do have some new leads and will follow them up, knowing that I’ll most likely hit a lot of dead ends in the process.

I’m very nervous about this search. I don’t know what I’ll find and honestly, I don’t know what I want to find.  I could spend a lot of time searching and not find anything, or this could turn into a Pandora’s box of drama.  With the possibility of disappointment, rejection, or worse – finding someone who overwhelms me – I am not sure why I’m doing this.  I would be MORE than happy with a stack of photos and and up-to-date health history but I’m not sure that is possible.  Either way, I’m going to try.

The funny thing is, I do have one biological relative – The Kid – and he looks NOTHING like me!  He is a clone of his father.  I wonder – if he looked like me, would I still want to proceed with this search or would I let bygones be bygones?