Spiderman's Mom

Here goes something...  I cannot say "nothing" because this is about my life and my life is something.  Tomorrow is my first official day of a new beginning.  Foster Solutions, llc has been formed to help address all of your water consulting needs.  It is my goal to have a client signed in December.  I basically have until Dec. 21 to make that happen.

In addition to consulting my heart and mind continue to wander to other areas where I would love to play.  My end goal has always been to pick Ella up from school two days a week.  That has not changed but I am adding to the list.  I want to empower women to realize their dreams.  Yes, I have been reading Brene Brown and Whitney Johnson but my head has always been in that space.  Those two among others that are filling it with amazing stories of strength and courage.

Santa is not the only one who can make his list and check it twice.  I am making my dream list and will be dream dating them one at a time.  Perhaps I will end up where I started on this journey with a better appreciation for it all.  Or maybe, just maybe I will introduce to you a more defined and refined me to you.  Either way, I determined to continue to make my life something.  Nothing is not an option,  especially with Spiderman as a son.

A Mother's Love

I just read my cousin's story of finally getting their baby girl in her arms after an adoption half way across the world (see MotleyCrew.com).  I am lying in bed, crying like a toddler myself. It is an ugly cry that is requiring me to sit up because all the tears and snot are not allowing me to breath. 

Heather, my cousin,  has been in knots for months because she just wanted her baby home. She and all of her family wanted their new family member to join us.  She just wanted her baby girl.  

In following their story,  my mind was transported back to when Boone was in the NICU.  Obviously, it is not the same thing but bear with me.  I remember getting the call that despite his nurses saying he may be able to come home just the day before that Boone needed another night with them.   This happened more than once. The NICU staff was top notch but they cannot control a hormonal, emotional new mother. Especially one that just spent over 4 weeks on strict bed rest to get him here safely. No, there is really no match for those emotions. At least I did not think so til I read Heathers story. 

It seems to come down to this:  our babies really are pieces of our heart that walk around outside of our bodies.  We, as mothers, are never really whole again after we love a baby whether we physically birthed that child or prayed for their arrival from across the globe.   We are made whole again only in the brief moments when they let us hold them in our arms. 

When I got that call on that day, that B was not coming home,I broke. I had stayed so strong throughout the bed rest, his emergency birth, the initial stages of my recovery but in that moment I was broken. 

I wanted my baby home. I wanted him with me, home, not in a bed that was not his own, not in a room that wasn't in my family's home.  I wanted him for all selfish reasons because obviously he needed to stay and get stronger.  I can't argue that breathing on your own is overrated.  But the thought of one more night of not smelling his baby head or studying his little hands and feet for hours on end was a lot for me to take. Not too much but a lot.  

Weeks ago Heather finally got her call to come get her baby.  Their journey was a bit more involved than 20 minutes up Mopac but the emotions the same.  

Yesterday Heather and her family got to bring Amelia "home".  Not yet toAmerica but one step closer.  The pics and videos of the "final scoop up" amid Amelia's cry is a lot to take in especially when there is an emotional connection. But the smile on Heather's face and the worry/exhilaration in her eyes is that of a mother plain in simple. I know it well.  Our babies are home. 

Welcome to the family, Amelia!  

South Plains Stories

One sign of a good, loving home is the ownership of rooms.  The room I claimed as a child is still “Wendy’s room”.  My trophies line its bookshelves and my pictures hang on the wall.  In the closet, you will find each and every one of my Michael Jordan posters safely stored.  He will always be a hero to me despite his little gambling problem.  Who can ever forget the poster that was the length of his arm span (i.e. big) with the William Blake poem printed below Jordan’ image: “No man soars too high if he soars with his own wings”.  Good times.

This weekend my family was welcomed into the childhood home of a friend.  I was a little nervous about being company for 4 days in anyone’s home but my worries were misplaced.  I knew it would all be okay when I was shown around and introduced to the three spare bedrooms each decorated in the personality of the child that once lived there 30 plus years ago.  It was in no way creepy; Fluffy the childhood pet was not stuffed in the corner with glass eyes.  My friend’s room had light and airy linens and a white down comforter.  It was so her, even today.  There were tons of pictures of her 80s big hair and stylish hats that made their appearance in the early 90s.  To her it was home, to my family and I it was comfort.

I was then shown her sister’s room and her brother’s room both decorated as an older brother and sister’s room should look.  The love was evident in the care her parents showed in keeping their kids welcomed in their home.  It then hit me, that this small token is a sign of a loving family and a healthy home.  There are other signs; I know that but this is one that stood out to me and one I needed at the time.  

My mom and dad’s house is comfort for me.  My home is in Austin but my roots are buried deep in South Texas and it is there that I turn to for strength.  This weekend I could not be in my parent’s home but my friend’s was the next best thing complete with Josie’s burritos for breakfast (if you know anything about Lubbock then you know what I am talking about).  

We ended the weekend with big hugs and a promise to return.  I have a new “home” on the South Plains and another blessing to add to my long list in this life.  

PS: They even loved having Boone around..... which proved our hosts were also solid grandparents.  He is easy to love but his energy is hard to accept at times.  I am his mother so I can say that- don't judge me.