Question: On social media, I posted a cute photo of my cute son doing a cute thing. My son’s mom commented:
It sucks to only see pix of him here. I wish you’d send me some. Oh, well, at least I get something.
I’m not really sure what to say? We’ve never had an agreement where I text her pics formally. But my relationship with birth mom includes connecting with her on social media so she can look at pix anytime and even screen shot them for herself.
I would love to text her every little moment but I just don’t have time. I understand that she is missing him. But the point of connecting on social media was for her to see him, like everyone else. I get a moment to upload a pic and everyone gets to see it, particularly her.
As children around the country head back to school, Adam Pertman shares an update to a post he initially published a few years ago. His original article on adoption in schools referenced a 2006 policy paper published by the Donaldson Adoption Institute. He laments that he didn’t have to make many changes because not much progress has been made to help educators better serve adoptive families.
I’ve saved voice messages from my son over the last several years. I wasn’t conscious why I’ve done so — space on my phone is limited so why keep mundane messages like “can I have a sleepover” when they are a dime a dozen?
I also saved a few voice messages from my daughter, but the urgency to do so was not as strong as it was with my son.
This is the Summer of the Voice Change
Now it makes sense why I felt compelled to save my son’s pre-pubescent voice digitally. His little boy voice is gone to me now, except for in these few recordings I hung on to.
There are fewer than three months between these two clips. My son is in the middle of the change now — his voice today isn’t the same as his voice yesterday. And his voice tomorrow will again be new.
For now, as he continues his one-way trip into manhood, I’ll play documentarian and treasure the moments I’ve captured.
And laugh a little at this memory, which I never got to experience up close until now (I have no brothers).
(By the way, do you realize that Marcia — Maureen McCormick — turned 60 earlier this month!?)
The summer of 2016 seems to be the one where I do a bunch of things I never thought I’d do. In June it was whitewater rafting, and in July it was fly fishing (full account over on MileHighMamas.com, with commentary from both of my kids).
In August, it is slated to be the mind-blowingest one of all: parenting a high schooler. How is THAT happening??
Anyway, my family was treated to a lovely weekend in Silverthorne, Colorado, just an hour up I-70 from the Denver area. People sometimes think of this town as a place you stop on the way to ski resorts, stopping at the Outlets for some deals, but we ended up loving Silverthorne as its own destination.
My Predictions About Fly Fishing? All Wrong.
I’d predicted I wouldn’t really enjoy fly fishing, but I did. I predicted my daughter would think it boring, but she loved it. I predicted my husband would be the only one to catch a fish, but he wasn’t (though his was the biggest). I predicted my son would love fly fishing, but he merely tolerated it.
I didn’t think I’d look good in waders, but damn if I didn’t rock ’em. I didn’t think I’d touch the fish I caught, but I did. I didn’t think I’d ever want to go fly fishing again, but I do.
We later tried stand up paddleboarding, and also I managed to embarrass my teens at an outdoor concert with my middle-aged (how did THAT happen??) singing and dancing. We toured a microbrewery, ate ice cream along the Blue River, grilled our own steaks, and made many memories together.
It was a super fun mini-trip. No wonder we’re hooked on Silverthorne.