A Weird Day

My Grandma called this morning. Not unusual. She asked me what I was doing and would I like to go with her to a picnic. Even though I had extensive plans for my day (which included going to the fabric store, Lowe's, K-Mart, putting the kids' furniture back in their room and organizing some of their clothes) I agreed. I've been agreeing a lot lately. I think the realization has set in that my grandma will not be around for a lot longer so I want to spend as much time with her as I can. She's 78, pretty young for a grandma and she looks great with only a few minor health problems. Let's see if I can find a picture of her....


That was taken a couple weeks ago. Here's another one. Just for fun. And because I love pictures of my darling kids and stylish grandma.




Pretty good for 78, huh? Anyway, back to my story... She called to see if I wanted to go to a picnic at some friends' mountain property. I went there a lot with my grandparents when I was a little girl and have fun memories of camping with them over various holidays. My grandpa was a really charismatic guy and everyone loved him. When he was around there was always laughter to be had. I loved my grandparents friends - some of them are still very special to me - I babysat their kids and grandkids. Many were like extended family to me. These were always the people at "the property".

So, when she asked me to go with her today this was the picture I had in my mind. Now, I know a lot has changed. Many of my grandparents friends have passed away. My grandfather has also passed away which is part of the reason I attend a lot of these functions with my grandma. The kids and grandkids I used to babysit are married now and some have children of their own. They're now the ones that camp up at the property. As these thoughts flashed through my mind, combined with the fact that Justin is working, I decided to go along.

I should have known from the start that things might go a little awry. The only thing I had for the potluck was a half eaten bag of salt and pepper kettle chips. (Which, right at this moment, I'm totally wishing I hadn't left up there.) I was leaving just as Adia needed to eat and about an hour before the kids usually go down for their afternoon naps. But we've skipped naps before - and in a fun place it usually works out ok. I figured both Steele and Adia would fall asleep in the car and Adia would hold out until we arrived. I picked up my grandma, stopped by Lowe's to get a few paint chips, popped into K-Mart for barrettes and some Mr. Potato Head accessories and headed up to the mountain.

When we got there we/I clumsily parked while everyone was watching me and trying to figure out who the heck it was driving a gold volvo wagon. I unloaded Adia and went back to unload sleeping Steele. Everyone ooohed and ahhhed at my cute kids and things started off on a good foot. Adia started to fuss and so I got her bottle prepared and my grandma graciously offered to feed her.

With Adia still being so young the "adoption" talk invariably arises. I have to give my grandma a huge gold star in this area - her wisdom and comfort level with adoption has far exceeded any expectation I ever had. She has gone from a woman who verbalized to me before my son was born that she was not sure she could love an adopted child the same (no, I'm not joking) to an adoring woman who protectively defends anyone that might ignorantly question their place in our family. I understand peoples' ignorance in the area of adoption and generally politely answer the, "oh, so they're not yours, are they brother and sister, do you know their mom?" questions so as to educate them without embarrassment. Usually something along the lines of..., "Well, yes, they're mine but I didn't give birth to them. No, they are not biologically related but they are brother and sister. Yes, we still have communication with their birthmothers. Come to mama, son." If I'm being honest I do sometimes want to say, "Let's see, what qualifies them as mine? Poopy diapers, spit-up, puke, bloody lips, knees, making dinner, doctors bills, a heart full of LOVE for them. Brother and sister? They're birth certificates both say insert our last name here on them. Do I know their mom? Um, I'm her." But I don't say those things. Obviously. 'Cause it would be rude. Just like their funny questions.

Most of you reading this know that I am not uncomfortable with the topic of adoption one bit. My kids will never remember a time when they found out they were adopted. To me, it is like having a different color hair, being born in a different hospital. Some kids come out of their mama's tummies, some don't. I'm also not uncomfortable talking about our attempt to have biological children. Probably because it doesn't matter me. I've said time and time again that I don't care how God builds our family, just as long as He does. I never, ever had it set in my mind that I needed to give birth to my kids. In fact, the more births I watch (4 now), the more I think I have it pretty good how it is. If I get pregnant some day I will be no more excited than I was the day we found out we were getting Steele.

So, I'm sure you're wondering about the "weirdness" part of this whole post. Well, you'll just have to wait until next time. It's close to 10:30 and I've decided I'm way too tired to finish this in any way worth reading. And, I have church clothes to get ready for tomorrow mornin'. I know, you're all hating this - especially Jodi I'm sure. It's really nothing that exciting, just a little comical to me and somewhat like a movie scene that makes you uncomfortable just watching it. You know, just the way you felt as you were watching Ben Stiller embarrass himself in front of his would be father-in-law... ouch.