What can I say, I’m thrilled. This result means I still need to watch my sun exposure, so my future will be full of wide brim hats and spf clothing on the beach. I’m going to find a way to be smart and look fabulous.

My splotch is gone and my stitches are healing. FlyGuy is back in a good mood. (Interesting how he was unbearably grumpy when i needed his help the most, then I get a clean bill of health and can finally walk a bit and he’s all smiles and rainbows. Whatever happened to “…in sickness and in health.”)

If you have a wanky splotch, get it checked out. I caught mine in time. If I had let it go longer, it may have taken a turn for the worse. I wish I had my splotch taken off when it was small enough to merit one stitch instead of 5 huge ones. Mostly, I wish everyone knew how easy it is to beat melanoma by simply getting your splotches checked out early.

My future will be shaded, but bright. Be smart, smarter than me.
Go to the dermatologist early and often.

Lori’s topic: Share your wish list for your open adoption

Here we go.

1. I wish I were invisible, so I could see my daughter’s birth parent’s often and learn things about my daughter and where she comes from.

2. I wish I could parent my daughter’s brothers.

3. I wish if my husband were to say, “that woman gave birth to my daughter” he would be pointing at me.

4. I wish the world would go away and stop judging my open adoption. FlyGuy and I are the captains of Little Lassie’s ship (for now) and we will always keep her in safe waters.

5. I wish LL’s birth parents could see how often LL has a bright, beaming smile.

6. I wish LL’s birth parents knew how often I think of them with gratitude and respect.

7. I wish my daughter could enjoy moments basking in her birth parents’ love and then come back to us knowing she belongs with us and everything is right with the world.

J is a jovial person. He is amusing and frank, the kind of person who can put everyone at ease. When I saw LL for the first time, she was a year old. J was holding her. FlyGuy and I walked into the waiting room of the adoption agency for our match meeting and I saw a man holding his daughter, Little Lassie and J. My breath caught in my throat when I realized this was the family we had been matched with. J recognized me right away from our profile. His smile lit up the room and he strode over and introduced LL to me. I thought I was going to be sick. They looked too normal, too happy to consider adoption.

I now know that they were a happy family, but they were also a family without the necessary resources to raise their daughter beyond her first year of life. J was unabashedly honest about their situation. He clearly cared about LL and remained very positive throughout the placement process. I remain grateful for that.

This is a difficult post to write because I don’t exactly like J. I know that is an ugly thing to say, but this is my space and I want to be honest. To be clear, I don’t like or dislike J. I respect him, I’m grateful to him, I honor his place in my family, but I don’t know enough about him or the year he spent raising LL to say I like him. I am, however, open to liking J. I am hopeful that our open adoption will include meetings where we can get to know each other. There is potential for J and I to make a connection beyond the one we already have and for LL’s sake, I hope we get the opportunity to develop that.

Finally, I know LL has J’s genes throughout her body and, in an odd way, that makes me feel very close to him. My daughter is a flesh and blood representation of J, which makes him one of my favorite people in the world. Adoption can be complex, but in the end it is simply based on love.

You may not be able to see this urban version of playing in the sun, if that is the case, click on the boxes for some Little Lassie love.

I think he is noticing this past month I have been making a point to cook and clean like a professional since I gave up my career when I became a mother a year ago. In my mind, I like to think I traded one profession, teaching, for another, mothering. I have a long way to go before I work the kinks out of my mothering style, but I’m enjoying the process. Even though motherhood is not exactly a profession, all the responsibility and accountability that go along with it makes it feel like a full time job. My bonuses don’t come in monetary form, but when Little Lassie sings, “Hi Mommy” when I greet her in the mornings, I feel like the most important woman in the world.