Well, it’s a good thing I don’t put much stock in Hallmark Holidays (i.e. mother’s day, father’s day and valentines day). Because let me tell you, this weekend went nothing like we envisioned.
Thursday we discovered our crockpot was broken. Our crock pot is used a least once a week, and some weeks it’s used twice a week. It allows us to make simple meals on busy days. Thankfully, replacing a crockpot is rather simple, given that a new one is less then $100. It was just a matter of going shopping. But oddly, so far, I hate my new one and miss my old one.
Saturday, our dishwasher died. It had been on deaths door for a few weeks – the repair man told us the motor was going and the cost of a new one wouldn’t be worth it. He also said we’d probably have about 6 months before it fully died. Well, it’ didn’t last 6 months. And, on Saturday we begrudgingly became the proud new owners of a new dishwasher, which thankfully was last years model and on a blowout sale. But, still, my little life lesson is that dishwashers aren’t cheap!! $1500 gone and an entire day wasted on an install gone horribly wrong. I felt terrible for Mr. MPB as he had to spend the day trying to sort out water and electrical problems, while I spent the day playing with Little MPB. Thankfully, by 10pm the dishwasher was finally working and at least I don’t have to find time to start hand washing dishes every day. Thank god for modern conveniences.
And Sunday, our microwave died. Mr. MPB and I have a history with microwaves (in our life together we’ve had 5 microwaves, apparently we are very good at ruining them) so we probably shouldn’t be surprised that we randomly lost another microwave. But this one was fine yesterday and now it’s not, so we were rather surprised that it stopped working. So, we are hoping to put off buying a new microwave for a few weeks as our VISA cards need a break. I’m curious, how long will we last without this daily convenience?
They say things happen in threes. So, I really hope this means we are done with broken appliances!
But, there were good things about our weekend too, thankfully.
- Little MPB is feeling better and went back to daycare on Friday.
- When I picked up Little MPB from daycare on Friday, he gave met he most wonderful gift. #DaycareForTheWin
- We did manage to go for a wonderful family walk on Sunday and a play at a nearby playground. It was a surprisingly relaxing day.
- Mr. MPB made me the most delicious raspberry chocolate mousse.
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I will never profess to be an expert in adoption language. In fact, I know I’ve gotten it wrong before. And I’m okay with people correcting me. In fact, so long as it’s polite and constructive, I’m always open to learning. And my theory is that anything I can learn to help my son navigate his feelings around adoption, can only be good for him and our family. And so, I expect this continual learning to be a life long endeavour.
Anyways, most recently I’ve been thinking about the normal comment of Little MPB is adopted or Little MPB joined our family through open adoption or any variant of these comments. While we don’t advertise Little MPB’s adoption with a sticky note on his forehead, it does come up in conversation from time to time. We are open and honest about his adoption, while also protecting some more confidential pieces of his story for him to choose to share one day. But, when it comes up it seems like we always say he is/was adopted. And in doing so, it feels like we always make it about him.
Which makes sense and yet doesn’t.
Yes, he was adopted, obviously. But, he had absolutely no voice in his adoption. In fact, it was as his birth mother, myself and Mr. MPB, who made all of the decisions around his adoption. In fact, as with all infant adoptions, he had absolutely no voice.
So, while I may be over thinking this, because I’m known to do that, I’m starting to wonder if always pointing a finger at Little MPB is going to ostracize him in some way, shape or form. As if somehow it will make him feel different every time it comes up. And while yes, his adoption makes him different, it doesn’t have to be a bad thing. And, the last thing we want is for him to feel like he’s all alone in this, because he’s not. While Mr. MPB and I cannot pretend to understand the emotions he may face as he grows up and understands adoption, we can make sure he knows we understand our own set of complex emotions about adoption. And, we can make him understand that no-matter what, it’s the 3 of us who are in this together and we will always support him and love him, no matter what.
So, I’m thinking we should say something more like our family was brought together through open adoption. Something that binds the three of us, rather then isolates him.
Like I said, maybe I’m just over thinking this. But I also think, what’s the harm in using language that doesn’t make him the odd one out. Rather our family can be the odd ones out. and we can build our family narrative accordingly.
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My Perfect Breakdown 