a mother is a mother is a mother

rob-sheridan.com

I've been thinking about women.  I've been thinking about how throughout the world we are so different. We lead such different lives. And yet, we are fundamentally all the same.

Did you see the documentary called "Babies"? It illustrates this point beautifully.

If you are a mother, or even if you aren't a mother but someone who has loved a child more than yourself, you are part of the collective.

Your skin might be different. Your clothes might be different. Your religious beliefs might be different. But when all that is stripped away and you are left with only your soul, I think we will see that we are daughters of one God. Sisters.

I honestly believe that the love parents have for thier children is the strongest force on Earth.  It matters not if you live in Chicago or Peru or Russia. I wish that I had more oppurtunity to meet women from other walks of life that are crazy about their children the way I am crazy about mine.  Motherhood has a way of creating insant friendships.

Anyway, these are the things that have been on my mind.

Also, I'd like to add that the two babies at the beginning of the "Babies" trailer act exactly like my two babies. That fight plays out in my house everyday. Only the skin color is different.

love tokens

What tiny treasures rattle around in the bottom of your jewelry box? In your travels, have you ever picked up a shell, a cool pop top, a postage stamp, a skipping stone? Do you keep your children's teeth as they fall out?

I find that for most of my life I have been a bit of a squirrel. I gather and stash all sorts of tiny things. To me, they are like the crumbs of bread that Hanzel and Gretel dropped to find their way back home. My little treasures lead me mentally back through the years, back to my childhood.

Some of my most treasured possessions would be worthless to anyone else. I have a small crumpled paper with the name “Ben” and a phone number scribbled on it. It was the first thing he ever gave me. I have a stone he found in the forest. It is shaped like a heart and I was delighted when he left it on my pillow. I have a tiny withered daisy that my son gave me one afternoon. I have a small wooden spoon my best friend carved.

They are just things. But every so often I hold them in my hands and I feel loved.

Someday, I will write down what each love token means to me, where I got it and who gave it to me. And in the mean time, I will continue to keep and treasure and hopefully give a few love tokens in return.

drifting

Sometimes I get lonesome for the Sugar Daddy. Even when we are together. 

And by together, I mean, padding around in the same house. Passing each other in the kitchen.

The Sugar Daddy likes to unwind his curly thoughts by watching strange old movies that usually have subtitles and orchestra music with lots of sharps. I do not share this affection. And so we are seldom together during those hours of the evening when we both mentally check out of life as we know it.

And sometimes I miss him. But not enough to endure a Korean war film circa 1956. Not even Junior Mints could get me through that.

I have a low rumbling in the nether reaches of my brain that is telling me that the two of us need to get away. We need to check out of life as we know it for a few days. Maybe a week.

We need to be together, together. For real. Not just in the same house.

It's so easy to drift away from each other. Especially in these stormy seas we are navigating. And the bottom line is that the Sugar Daddy is too good looking to watch from afar. 

I need him up close.

bliss

Sometimes bliss is work.

This is true.  Did you know that Van Gogh painted some nine hundred paintings during his lifetime and only sold one?  Nine hundred paintings people.  No wonder he went insane and ultimately took his own life. I believe he literally painted his heart and soul out onto the canvases.

A few years ago one of his sunflower paintings sold for close to forty million dollars.  That's the going price for heart and soul these days.

Unless you read this blog. Then you get heart and soul for free.

I'm in Houston, following my bliss.  I've been blogging for a long time.  A door has opened and I thought I'd come in and take a look around.

I'm not sure where this path will lead but I do know one thing.  When I write I don't loose my heart and soul. 

I find it.

“When you follow your bliss... doors will open where you would not have thought there would be doors; and where there wouldn't be a door for anyone else.” -Joseph Campbell

twenty-ten, the year of Ben

Music Playlist at MixPod.com

Okay so the recession has really kind of sucked. Is that an understatement? I think yes.

Anywho, things have been a bit of a struggle for all of us and it has put an extra strain on Sugar Daddy who takes his job as provider and sugar daddy extraordinaire very seriously.

Last New Years, he declared twenty-ten to be the Year of Ben. He was going to kick some business butt.

And so far he has made good. The meetings in China and Taiwan were a success. He hasn't even let up during all our major craziness over the last month. The guy's an animal. Oh, my in more ways than one.

Here we are. We now have three kids. It's forcing me to feel like a grown up. I'm a little scared heading into this new frontier. And I'm so glad that I have this man to walk by my side.

I know that he will make sure that our bellies are full and we each have a warm place to sleep each night.

Henry was sleeping in a drawer, but he must give it up and move into the crib when we get home.

Amelie will be sleeping in her new bed which is the cutest bed ever made for a little girl. I think I will take naps on it and pretend that it's mine.

Thom will be back in his room with the solar system glowing on the ceiling as he sleeps.

And I will be cuddled up next to Sugar Daddy, warm and happy and ready to nudge him to go get the baby.

concerning the girl we don't call birthmother

Here's the truth.

Sometimes it is hard to see the truth of a situation because of the circumstances.

Sometimes the facts muddle everything up and make a tender berry plant look like a pesky weed.

Sometimes the judgements of men destroy the beauty of truth.



We don't call the girl who gave birth to Henry "birthmother". She prefers we didn't. She has made it quite clear that the title of mother isn't hers to claim. She sees herself as a vessel in the hand of the Lord. Even in her darkest hour, she listened to the still small voice. She agreed to the path less taken. It is a path fraught with emotional brambles. She answered yes to this course.

She sacrificed her story so that we might begin ours.




The facts of the story are amazing and make for great chitter chatter. "She did what? And then this? Oh and did you hear..."

But here's the truth.

This our story. This is the story of the way our children came to our family. As a mother, this story sits deep in my heart. It is beautiful and miraculous and framed with type of love that only the people involved will ever experience. I would fight to the death to preserve the sanctity of it.

The true nature of adoption seems to be lost on most. It is a complex principal. It is an extended course of study for those that choose to undertake it.

The hospital social worker came by. She congratulated me on not having to go through the pain of birth. She questioned me down on the facts surrounding our sons birth. She made some observations.

I stood blinking back rage and wondering if she also pops into random offices on the University campus to offer up opinions on biomechanics and advanced engineering.

This is what I really want to say. This is what I want the girl we don't call birthmother to know. It's the truth as I know it.

Hey- It's you and us and the Lord. Everything else is confetti.

All photos by the photo zoo. Available here.

having it all, and a little bit more or maybe more aptly titled "second brother"

Sometimes I really think God is sitting up there in heaven missing me like crazy. He's doing his best to shock me to death.

The story I am about to relate is totally unbelievable but one hundred percent accurate. Make no mistake about it, humans couldn't think this up. Only God is capable of spinning a yarn so convoluted.

Last Thursday I was trying to figure out how to grow my business with a ten month old at my feet. Last Thursday I was sitting on my sofa lamenting my lack of time and energy to a dear friend. What a foolish girl I was.

At 1:24 a.m. Friday morning I learned that a girl had given birth to child. A boy.


A little boy was delivered via c-section around midnight. He was 4 lbs 10 oz. He was 17 inches long and perfect in every way if just a little underdeveloped.

And so I was notified in the middle of the night. I sat alone on the edge of my bed staring at the slanting street light streaming through my blinds.

I texted Ben. "Call me." He texted back. "I'm in a meeting." (He was in Taipei) I texted. "Call me now."

He said exactly what I had known he'd say. "She wants us? Is she sure she wants to place? I'm coming home. We are going to get our son."

We threw everything in the car, bundled up the boy and the bird and drove twelve hours to Utah.

I've been trying to put words to my emotions. Dazed doesn't cover it. Neither does shocked. Scared is an understatement. As is happy. It's a feeling I've never experienced and I wonder if it is similar how someone might feel when they die suddenly and find themselves surrounded by loved ones since past.

We named him Henry Wyatt Meeker.

When we laid eyes on this little piece of heaven, we knew that he was ours. It's an experience every person should be so privileged to experience. It's like smelling your mother's perfume or riding a bike down your childhood street. It's home.

He needs a little help breathing and eating. He will be in the NICU for a little while yet. And everyday I will drive a hour to see him, hold him and kiss him. And then I will drive an hour back to my parents house. Back to my other children, who are also riding this wild ride, but harbor no fear, only excitement, as children are want to do.

I tell ya, I feel some kind of stupid for writing the previous post. I'm a different girl today. Jewelry business? What jewelry business? Clean house? Tidy yard? Skinny jeans? Poohey.

I guess God doesn't really want me back anytime soon. He's keeping me pretty busy down here.

amelie

This is what I know about her so far:



she hates getting dressed
she loves bananas
she hates her car seat
she loves her brother
she hates having her nose wiped
she loves to watch people in public
she hates being put to bed without being rocked
she loves to cuddle
she hates to hold still for a diaper change
she loves to get in the bath
apricots give her diaper rash
her eyes are bluer than anyone I've ever known
she is shy and afraid of strangers
she says "mama"
she makes me so happy my heart feels too big for my body.

these boys

You see these boys?

They make me laugh all the time.

They tease and tickle and sometimes, just sometimes, they pout.

Both these boys love to be in the kitchen making something delicious.

Both these boys hate to make their bed in the morning.

Both these boys cuddle up to me and flash a big smile when they want something.

They have the exact same color of eyes and their ears are identical.

Every night they have a man talk. No girls allowed.

But sometimes they talk about me and I listen at the door and I realize that these boys hold my heart in their hands.

photo by tara whitney

coming home

Music Playlist at MixPod.com

Let me set the scene.

Sugar Daddy pitted against a large L.A. firm with lawyers so slick their suits glimmered in the sunshine. It was an ugly, personal struggle. It was family members on either side of the fight. Millions were at stake and an 85 year old mother was relying on Ben and his partner to bring justice to light.

This is what it meant to our family:

No daddy for three weeks.

He worked all day every day and I awoke in the wee hours of the night to find him finally returned to me, tired and beat.

In the morning he'd be long gone.Yesterday was magical. Yesterday Sugar Daddy, the love of my life, a talented lawyer and amazing father, triumphed.

Yesterday the jury saw through all the fancy foot work of the L.A. firm and delivered justice.

Dearest,

Come home now. I feel like you have been away at war. I know you are weary. Let me hold your head in my lap and kiss your temples. The children need to hold your hand and feel your presence. We need you
back. We have missed you.

Well done Counselor.

-A-

you ain't seen nothing yet

You may think you've seen some cute things here on Suaviloquy, but let me tell ya, you ain't seen nothing yet.


Ba ba ba baby, you just ain't seen nothing yet.



Amelie was born on Monday the 18th at 12:45 p.m.. She weighed 7 lbs 3 ounces. She is 20 inches long. She is the most beautiful baby ever born. I know you probably think that your kids were the most beautiful, and I'm sorry to burst that bubble, but the facts are the facts.


I want to bear testimony to you that placing a baby for adoption is an act of indescribable love. It can only be done right when the birth mother allows Christ into her life. Amelie was always meant to come to us, but without her birth mom's strength and faith she might not have found her way.

I stand all amazed.

amour cliche'

Sugar Daddy and I aren't too much with the romance. Never have been. I don't mean to say that we don't try to seduce each other. We do. It's just a little more subtle than average.

For instance, I might say, "You know, you're a real smart ass." And he will respond, "Why thank you. You crafty little minx." Then, well, it's on.

So Valentine's day really isn't our "thing". We might exchange little token gifts, but for the most part, we don't make a big deal about it.

BUT- what I do love about Valentine's Day is the kitchyness. I relish the cheesy cards and the campy store bought goodies. I mean, who doesn't love conversation hearts? Really.

Is Valentine's a Hallmark holiday? Why yes it is! And that's what is so great about it! Elementary school would never have been the same without chintzy little cards made from red doilies and decorated shoebox mailboxes.

Thom and I are all over it, getting ready for the big day. We have all the Valentine's ready to take to school.

The hearts are hung in the window with care, in hopes that St. Valentine will show up and leave a couple hundred bucks on the counter.

The big pink sugar cookies are frosted with almond buttercream and ready to deliver. Scrumdillyumptious!

And the campy handmade Valentines are in the mail to their intended sweetheart.

Here's Cupid himself, lips pursed in concentration, crafting a card for his cousins. Notice the chocolate smears all over his shirt? We needed sustenance while we worked.

This is my mantra for today: Let. Love. Live. However you do it. Don't quash the vibe. If you are fancy pants lovey dovey, do that. If you are simple and sweet like Sugar Daddy and I, put the kids to bed, break out the Netflix and Ben and Jerry's and nestle in.

tokens

In honor of Valentine's Day, which is quickly approaching (I better get crackin on my gifts), I give you 5 little things that make me feel loved in a big way.


#1. When Sugar Daddy asks for my opinion on certain things and he listens to what I have to say, I know he sees me as not just his wife, but as person with equal life experience and good judgement.




#2. When people love the gifts I give them so much they cry, I feel loved and happy. Not because they are crying of course. No, that can be a little embarrassing. Just because it reminds me that the things I do are valued.




#3. In our quiet moments, when Thom sits on my lap and plays with my hair and we talk about his day, I know that I am not just his mother. I am his mommy.

#4. Although it drives me absolutely bizerk, I know that my dog, Finnigan, is madly in love with me because he follows me EVERYWHERE.


#5. And last but not lest, I know Sugar Daddy is head over heels for me because when he comes home from work, and there is glitter all over the kitchen floor, canvases, brushes, paint and paper strewn around the table, no dinner in sight and the laundry is crawling up the wall, he kisses me and asks to see what I am working on. Then he clears a spot on the counter and makes us all quesadillas. Now that is love.

good fortune

Here's something I bet you didn't know about me: I used to be rich once.

About four years ago Sugar Daddy and his best friend, Andre, started a company training real estate agents. This was when the housing market was at it's peak. It was very successful. The money was rolling in. We were flush. We were dining out at the nicest places, shopping for furniture and living the high life. We were making big plans. Then the market crashed.

At this time we had just bought our current house and we put everything we had saved into it. We had banked on having plenty of cash to decorate the house and put in a killer yard. Like I said, we had big plans.

It is hardly a rags to riches (or riches to rags?) story because I still have a very nice lifestyle. I am not so skewed as to think that my life is anything like what some people go through. All my needs are being met and I feel very blessed. But, it was a little startling to go from nights out at Donovan's to cooking burgers on the grill. And I learned something about myself.

Last weekend we didn't go out. We stayed home and played with the boy. We put on our pajamas and had Vietnamese take out. Andre and Jenny came over and we sat around and talked and laughed at how our lives have changed. And at the end of the night, when I crawled into bed next to Ben and laid my head on his shoulder and wrapped my legs around his, it didn't matter that we hadn't gotten dressed up and gone out to some swanky place.


I am not any less happy now than I was then. Sure, I had a good time. We made some fun memories during our short stint of opulence. And I came this close to buying a really really great buffet for the dining room that I still dream about. Damn. But all in all, we are doing okay. Wealth is fleeting and can be taken away by the slightest of breezes. But I have Sugar Daddy, who is my rock, and Thom, who is my dream come true, and that, my dears, makes me feel like a Queen.

*************************************************************
Here are the winners of the Holly Golightly earplugs:

Mary Marsh of Meeting Street Designs

The cute flight attendant from Postcards and Coasters

Guinevere of The Fridge Door

Rene of Little Kiki's Blog

Tessa of How to Make Art

i got half

Do you see this incredibly handsome and suave guy? Take note of his kind eyes and strong Native American nose. This is my guy. As of today, he has been mine for half of his life.

Happy birthday Stinky Bear. I love you.

on an up note. . .

I know, I know, a Secondsister Jewelry giveaway has been a long time coming, but here it is! These lovely "Meadow" earrings are up for grabs! Leave a comment, and on Monday I'll use one of the weird little online random number picker thingys to choose a winner. Tell your friends! Shout it out! FREE JEWELRY HERE! GET YOUR FREE JEWELRY!

That's not all I have for you either. After a small stint of moodiness this past week, I thought I'd share a few more reasons to be happy about today.

Now available through Nendo- chocolate pencils. Yes, indeed ladies, chocolate pencils. Now, for all intents and purposes, these pencils were created to use as a baking tool to create shavings for desserts. However, I see no reason to spend time sharpening the pencils just so you can get a miniscule amount of chocolate on top of your molten lava cake. I intend to eat these pencils like a carrot. That's how I roll.

As long as we are talking about chocolate, and all things wonderful, check this. My baby sister and her hubby will be married 5 years this November and I happen to know that they are more in love today than they were on their wedding day. Believe in marriage.

Every parent, ahem, every good parent, thinks that their baby's bottom is the cutest thing around. We can't help it. It comes with the territory. I gave birth to my son and in the midst of all the emotion and commotion, I distinctly remember thinking, "Well look at that. That is about the cutest bum I've ever seen." And then I collapsed from exhaustion.

So in China, they put their children in bottomless pants. They say it is for practical reasons, you know, for potty training and all, but I'm not so sure. Baby bottoms- another reason to smile today.