Parenting: a Triangle Tangle

The other night our family went out to eat with a good friend, her 10 year old son, and her new boyfriend (whom she was very excited for us to meet).

As always, being together was full of laughs and fun. The boyfriend, a charming, attentive and down-to-earth guy, passed muster.

After dinner, Tessa asked to speak with my friend and me privately. We three went outside the restaurant.

“So,” she said, “what I want to tell you both is that it’s time for you to switch.”

My friend and I looked at each other, knowing what is coming and trying to figure out how to handle it.

“Mom,” Tessa said, “It’s YOUR turn to be my birth mom, and Crystal, I want to come live with you for awhile.”

You’ve figured out that my friend, Crystal, is also Tessa’s first mom.

“Well, honey,” Crystal said, “it doesn’t work that way. I already gave birth to you and no one else can ever do that again. You’re too big!” We all giggled, a bit uncomfortably.

“But I want to live with you, just for awhile,” claimed Tessa, ever the persistent one.

“Why? How do you think life with me would be?” asked Crystal.

“We could play. I could have your purse and your keys and your cell phone and your lip gloss. All day!”

(See, I learned after the first time my keys got lost and I found my cell phone perched precariously over the toilet NOT to allow my children to play with these things. Tessa has always had a HUGE affinity for these accouterments of adulthood. Other people indulge her, but I do not.)

“Oh, Tessa. It’s not like that at my house,” responded Crystal. “I work much of the time, and when I’m home, Tyler and I do a lot of chores.”

Before long, Tessa brought Tyler out of the restaurant and into the conversation (I told you she’s a pitbull), and he vouched for the fact that there’s not a lot of play time in Crystal’s household.

Tessa hung on to Crystal’s keys, purse and cell phone for the rest of the evening. While out of Tessa’s earshot, Crystal offered to have Tessa over for a day just to see what a “typical” day in her house is like. I can see this scenario going so many different ways.

Part of me (a big part) wishes this were just about the purse, etc. But I know it’s really a deeper processing. Both Crystal and I have done some of our grieving and healing from the losses we endured. Now it’s Tessa’s turn. How do we help?

Any comments or suggestions from people not emotionally invested? I really welcome them.

Resulting post: Adoption Issue? Parenting Issue? Ego Issue?

Mishmash

Violet at Miserable Bliss directed me to this test:

 

INFJ – “Author”. Strong drive and enjoyment to help others. Complex personality. 1.5% of total population.

Free Jung Word Choice Test (similar to MBTI)

Reading further, I find my possible careers. Maybe I’ll pick something new when Reed hits first grade:

 

 

  • Clergy / Religious Work
  • Teachers
  • Alternative Health Care Practitioners, i.e. Chiropractor, Reflexologist
  • Psychologists, Psychiatrists
  • Counselors and Social Workers
  • Musicians and Artists
  • Photographer

 

 

 

On relationships:

INFJ is a natural nurturer; patient, devoted and protective. They make loving parents and usually have strong bonds with their offspring. They have high expectations of their children, and push them to be the best that they can be. This can sometimes manifest itself in the INFJ being hard-nosed and stubborn. But generally, children of an INFJ get devoted and sincere parental guidance, combined with deep caring.

Hey! I don’t remember answering Yes to the “hard-nosed and stubborn” question!

***

But really what I want to share tonight is a video I found for a song I love by a band Roger introduced me to. Apples in Stereo has had a prominent place in my playlists lately. How can a song called “Same Old Drag” make me feel so happy? Enjoy.

 

Tapping in to MomSense

A couple of weeks ago, I heard those words all adoptive parents dread.

With the kids in the backseat, I dropped off a bag of stuff at Goodwill. Among the things we gave away were some beloved purple sandals of Tessa’s, who left them on the stairs when asked to clean up (we practice Love & Logic).

Tessa began to have a fit when she saw the shoes transition out of her life. Can I just say here that Tessa is the Drama Queen of Fits? Reed, always her loyal Knight, joined in with the wailing:

“You’re a mean mom! We wish that our birfmoms and birfdads were our real parents!”

With Roger out of town and my temper rising to match the 100 degree day, I fortunately had the presence of mind to say, “We’ll talk about this in a little bit.”

Later, I gently asked Reed if he wondered what it would be like to live with his birfparents. He said no. I told him that I would probably wonder, and that it’s OK to wonder.

That was the end. For now.

But not forever. I’m gonna need some more tools in my tool kit.

So I posted the situation on a couple of adoption bulletin boards. Here are some comments with great insight and strategies (screen names follow):

1. “They ARE your real parents, just like we are.” Then have a conversation about the word real. (pnmomma)

2. “Tessa, your first mom, loves you very much and every good mom is supposed to teach you to be responsible, and I am sure that she would teach you this same lesson. Maybe you could call her and ask if she thinks it’s OK to leave your sandals out and not take care of them.” (Jensboys).

3. I always respond with a lick of the finger and an imaginary mark in the air and announce a point for myself for being one step closer to a perfect parent because all good parents are mean at some point. (Tudu)

4. Perhaps my favorite: “Well then you are in luck, they TOO are your real parents.. and the shoes are still gone. Maybe you should put them in your REAL closet next time.” (CLB)

5. This blow-up is actually a good sign. If your kid feels safe enough to lash out, it means they are comfortably attached to you. Kids will find your hot buttons and push them. That’s what they do. Think of them as small, very expensive personal therapists. You learn a lot about yourself in the process of raising them. (MomOf2)

I did cry myself to sleep that night, as Spyderkl thought she would.

Any other insights, suggestions, comments? C’mon, lurkers! I see you there on my SiteMeter.

Meme: 8 Random Facts

I’ve been tagged by Furrow.

The rules:
Let others know who tagged you.
Tell 8 random facts about yourself.
When you’re tagged, post these rules and 8RF about yourself.
Tag 8 other people.

My 8 Random Facts:

  • I have lived 8 time zones to the east of home (Syria) and 8 time zones to the west of home (Japan). Like those 8s.
  • I proposed to Roger. At a Bronco game. On the DiamondVision scoreboard.
  • I have never had a PBJ sandwich.
  • I played the piccolo in high school.
  • I would go to great lengths for a really good mojito.
  • I was told by a ski instructor my first time out that I had “rubber knees.” The nickname stuck (the comment was overheard by a member of the church group) and it took me two decades to get back on skis.
  • When I was a Brownie, I won a baking contest for a recipe called, “Rickety Uncle.”
  • I can usually guess the time within about 5 minutes.

So, if you’re reading and you haven’t already blogged 8 Random Facts, consider yourself tagged. Comment here when you post your own.