Jr is practically seven months old.
I can't believe it!
He sits up on his own (sort of).
He eats squash, sweet potatos, peas, and appears allergic to bananas.
His two bottom front teeth has broken through.
He's the light of my life.
I don't know what to say. I'm just being a parent. I don't think about the adoption all that much. I tell him about his birthparents. I wonder about his birthparents. I try to decipher their FB stati (plural of status). I cringe when I get an email from them because it's usually a plea for money. I did send her a phone card last month. I helped her to find local resources to help her out. I did not give her cash like she requested repeatedly. She told me she loved us anyway.
I can't make her make good choices.
I think about the type of relationship we have. I don't know what it is. I send her updates and pictures monthly. She asked for videos of him. I took a bunch and sent them today. She doesn't share much - which is her right. I wish I knew more about her. Things I could tell her son. She's not a letter writer or an emailer or much of a talker (at least with me). Truth be told I don't think we have much of a relationship.
So these are the things I do think about. It's draining. I know she misses him and loves him.
I read a birthmother blog today where the write posted that she believes adopted parents realize that the child is never "fully theirs". So now I'm ruminating on that.
I know this is all over the place. Maybe because I'm out of practice.
