So I Can't

It's not necessarily the guilt of revealing so much of another person's story - I mean, it's my story...but that's just it - I haven't been adding much to the facts. The dialogue exists - and surely it's "entertaining," but I'm not really taking you there. And, I don't know if I'm ready to go there.

I think it's a process - a process I'm going to take offline for a bit to figure out. I think I've come to the realization that I'm still not entirely ready to "comment" on it all. Or maybe just scared of who I might discover.

There are so many perspectives to being an adopted child - nearly daily choices on how I want the experience to feel. One day I'm logical, matter of fact and practically cold. The next I'm someone so fearful of being left behind and certain that it's bound to happen again that I hide thoughts and conflict under my breath. I think I'm always grateful. But I also think I the many open doors and new relationships my reunion uncovered are missing some great honesty.

And so I can't. Not yet.

It Doesn't Get Any Better Than This

My son snuck into our room and strategically placed a note on our bed last night. It is so darn sweet.

Dear Mom and Dad,
You guys rule. You take me places, feed me food, buy and wash clothes for me, buy me tons of toys, find my things, wash me and help me with tests. In fact, you probably spend half your life on kids. I'm kinda sorry you do all that and we don't give you that much in return, even though almost everyone does that. But still, I made a poem for you.

Roses are red,
Sad people are blue,
and no one is better
than the awesome you.

P.S. Thanks for the Boosterthon $!!!

So today is going to be a good day.