The post office box was empty again. Little Lassie’s birth parents have not contacted us in several months. I’m ashamed to say a part of me was relieved, but a larger part of me was angry and disappointed to see the vacant box. I imagine they will come back into our lives when they are ready, but what about us? Are we supposed to wait around until they are ready? Logically, I know the answer to that is yes, but I’m not a big enough person to like the idea.

I’m not ignorant of the trauma that Little Lassie’s birth parents have experienced or are experiencing. I’m just being honest about how it feels to be me, an adoptive parent. I’ll leave it at that for now.

I woke up sick at 2am. My throat is painful and my joints are aching. FlyGuy is out of town until tomorrow night and I have a busy day ahead of me. I feel like I’ve already lost the battle today and want to go back to bed, its 7:30am.

This sick feeling always brings me back to my (strained) relationship with my mom. No matter how evil she (or I) had recently been to each other, if I was sick and she saw me I’d start to cry and begin to feel all infantile and pathetic, wanting her to comfort me. She would. She always says, “I know when Lassie is sick, I can see it in her eyes.” Then she would set me up on the couch with an array of comforts, books, magazines, crackers, vernors etc. FlyGuy needs to see me bleeding from a head wound to offer sympathy. I’m chalking that up to being a man.

I wonder if Little Lassie will feel the same need for comfort from her mother (me) throughout her life. I hope so.

I watched the election coverage last night and knew history was being made. I’ve always been interested in politics and am grateful that I have the opportunity to vote my conscience and values. Living in Chicago made last night even more exciting. We only live 3 miles from Grant Park and by 3 in the afternoon they started closing streets and bridges surrounding the event. In the evening, traffic was outrageous. FlyGuy and I opted to stay in and watch coverage on TV.

As I watched Obama give his acceptance speech I felt many emotions - including fear for Obama’s safety. I trust our secret service, but he seemed so vulnerable on that stage. I’m worried that somewhere in America someone is becoming unglued because an African American man is going to be President.

The good news is Obama’s message of hope and change are a breath of fresh air for my city and country. I’m excited to watch the change unfold.