Seattle Mom Blogs

Three months? Seriously? Has it been three months since my last entry? It’s even a little over three months. That’s just nuts!

I’m surviving, I swear. And it’s not all horrible. Things are much better than they were when I wrote my last entry. The meltdowns have greatly reduced and we continue to feel more and more like a family. All things considered things are pretty good. It’s just such a huge life change. I can’t really stress that enough. Huge, I tell you! HUGE! Taking this particular path to parenthood is not for sissies, I’ll tell you that much.

In a way I feel like I’m the one who’s been hit the hardest by all this change. Maybe I’m underestimating the stress everyone else is feeling, I don’t know. All I know is that I feel overwhelmed most of the time. I feel like I’ve been inundated with a million new tasks and there’s an increased busyness to my life. There’s more laundry, the house is a cluttered mess, and I actually have to cook now (and lord knows cooking is not my strong suit). There’s homework and sports and afterschool activities and doctors appointments and the PTSA. But it’s not just that. There’s something more. Something bigger. There’s a huge amount of pressure hanging over my head.

I’m the mom now.

I never could have understood it until now, but there’s something about motherhood that carries with it an enormous burden. It seems in most two-parent families one parent takes on the role of the central person in the family. And in most families that person is usually the mom. She’s the nurturer, the caregiver, the organizer – the one the rest of the family trusts to make sure everything is taken care of. Each person has a unique and important role in the family, of course, but it seems in most families the mom is the glue that holds it all together.

Now that person is me, and I feel painfully inadequate. I pretty much have no idea what I’m doing. Now I know what you’re thinking: all new moms feel that way, right? Well I’m sure they do but most new moms don’t have kids who have already been parented by multiple other parents, both good parents and – well let’s just say – not-so-good parents. Most new moms don’t start out with kids who have thoughts and opinions about the job they’re doing. It’s hard for me to fake it with these kiddos.

You know those “super moms”? The ones who volunteer for every committee? The ones who prepare gourmet meals? The ones with the perfectly kept homes? Well I am far from a super mom. I’m more like a barely-keeping-up mom. At our house on an average day you’ll find dust on the TV, dog hair collecting in every corner, and clutter everywhere. The other night dinner consisted of ramen noodles mixed with peas, corn, and sliced up kielbasa (I told them it was called “Super Ramen”). And don’t even talk to me about the PTSA. I just don’t have the energy for it. Admittedly, I am completely winging this mom thing and parenting by the seat of my pants.

This may be my first crack at motherhood, but it bears and uncanny resemblance to one particular time when I started a new job. Shortly after quitting my job at Microsoft to go work at the Humane Society I can remember asking myself what the hell I was thinking and, in a moment of panic, I wondered if it was too late to go back to my old job.

Truthfully there have been times since the kids moved in that I have wondered if there was a way I could go back to my old life. I feel guilty about that, but at the same time I have an inkling I’m not the only new mom who has ever felt that way. Especially a new foster-adoptive mom. But just like my job at the Humane Society I feel confident if I hang in there long enough it will eventually become my most rewarding job yet.

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In addition to being a writer and adoptive mom, Susan Metters also carries the distinguished title of Cancer Survivor Extraordinaire. Some of her secret ambitions include meeting Dr. Phil, hosting Saturday Night Live, and rising to the top as a rock star. You can read more about Susan’s life adventures by visiting her blog with the Seattle P.I., Lemon Margaritas. If you have ideas, questions, rants, or ramblings feel free to email susan [at] seattlemomblogs [dot] com.

Things have been getting rough lately. Really rough. And I mean really really.

The week before last started out with five meltdowns in two days. Five! In two days! (The kids, of course, not me. Although by the fifth one I swear I nearly had a meltdown myself.) Then we had a couple of good days with some drama and at least one more meltdown sprinkled in. Then we topped the week off with a sibling spat that ended in a split lip, one kid screaming bloody murder, the other one swearing it wasn’t their fault, and two frazzled parents at their wits end.

This past week has been only slightly better. Seems like at least one of the kids has a tantrum or meltdown at least every other day. And the fighting between the two of them is an every day occurrence.

I know what you’re saying. Welcome to parenthood, right? Sigh

My kids are good kids. Really they are. But they are kids with a lot of emotions and feelings inside them that they don’t know what to do with. In their short lives they’ve been through more than a lot of people go through in a lifetime, not to mention that they’ve had very little control over the things they’ve had to deal with. Now they are in yet another new home, with yet another set of grown-ups in charge of their lives. I can’t even imagine what that must feel like.

According to our social worker the fact that the kids are acting out is actually a good sign. She said that means they feel safe enough with us to share their honest emotions. While intellectually I was glad to hear that, the honest truth is that it doesn’t make those meltdowns and tantrums any easier. Emotionally it’s still incredibly draining. I’m exhausted every day.

But never fear, my friends. Reinforcements are on their way. We’ve got an appointment with a family therapist who has specific training and experience working with foster and adoptive families. I talked to her on the phone the other day and she seems to know her stuff. Which is good because we need a pro! Interestingly enough we had planned to get therapy during this transitional period anyway, even before we knew who our kiddos were going to be. We thought it would be a good thing to do to get us off on the right foot and set our family up for success. Little did we know then how necessary it would be!

I have every confidence that the family therapy will be invaluable, but I also know that a large part of this is just a matter of time. Not only are we still getting to know each other (it hasn’t even been 2 months), but I’m certain the kids must be wondering if this is really their forever home. After so many moves is this really the last one? Living with that kind of uncertainty must create incredible anxiety; the kind of anxiety that no reassurances from us can ease. Only time and an adoption decree will be able prove our unconditional love and commitment.

While it’s been really hard, I don’t want to make it sound like it’s all bad all the time. We also have a lot of fun together. In fact, the last three days have been relatively drama-free. That said, I know this is just a brief calm before the next storm. There’s lots of healing to do before things can stabilize. For now we just need to savor the good moments and hang in there and ride out the rest.

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In addition to being a writer and adoptive mom, Susan Metters also carries the distinguished title of Cancer Survivor Extraordinaire. Some of her secret ambitions include meeting Dr. Phil, hosting Saturday Night Live, and rising to the top as a rock star. You can read more about Susans life adventures by visiting her blog with the Seattle P.I., Lemon Margaritas. If you have ideas, questions, rants, or ramblings feel free to email susan [at] seattlemomblogs [dot] com.

I bet by now youve started thinking Ive dropped off the face of the earth. I havent, although my world has turned upside down.

After 5 months of waiting and wondering (which in the adoption world actually isnt that long), we found our children. Were parents! YIKES!

We first received info about them from our agency on July 14th; an 8-year old girl and 5-year old boy. (Cmon, admit it. Youre relieved we didnt end up with 3 kids.) Their social worker had read our home study report and asked about us specifically, wanting to know if we might be interested. Their description sounded good (and as an added bonus their pictures were pretty cute), so we said yes, we were interested in more info. Our agency sent along a summary of their foster files.

Now we didnt think much of it right then. Wed gotten to that point with other children several times and they didnt pan out for various reasons. So having a social worker interested in us and getting to read a foster summary didnt necessarily mean anything would come of it.

But then we read their summaries. There wasnt anything that jumped out at us as something we couldnt (or werent willing) to deal with. They sounded like good kids who had been dealt a bad hand. And with a bit of curious wonderment we looked at each other. Could these be our kids?

We called our agency and said we were still interested, and from there things started accelerating much more quickly than expected. We talked to their social worker and then their current foster mom, and before we knew it we were driving 3-hours from home to meet them.

First we had a one-hour meet and greet, then a half day at the park the following day. A week later we spent a full day at the beach. Less than a week after that they joined us for a 5-day overnight stay in our RV. Then Monday August 11th they came home. Home with us. Home for good. Home to their forever family.

And it feels like my life has gone from zero to sixty at lightning speed.

Parenthood has hit us like a ton of bricks. All things considered we are doing pretty well, but we are exhausted. Thus the reason for no blogs. Trust me, I have more than enough fodder for blog after blog, but little time and even littler energy. (Littler? Who uses a word like littler? A frazzled mom, I guess. Sheesh, I need a nap.)

But its all good. Well get there. School started after Labor Day and it brings with it a welcome (and healthy) respite from the new kiddos every day. They are great kids, really they are, its just that were still getting used to each other.

So stay tuned. Now that Ive got 3 and a half hours to myself every day (all-day Kindergarten was full dang) I should be able to start blogging again. That is, if I dont fall asleep at the keyboard.

This entry also posted with the .

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In addition to being a writer and adoptive mom, Susan Metters also carries the distinguished title of Cancer Survivor Extraordinaire. Some of her secret ambitions include meeting Dr. Phil, hosting Saturday Night Live, and rising to the top as a rock star. You can read more about Susans life adventures by visiting her blog with the Seattle P.I., Lemon Margaritas. If you have ideas, questions, rants, or ramblings feel free to email susan [at] seattlemomblogs [dot] com.

Up ’til now I’ve pretty much only shared the fact that we are adopting an older child from foster care, but not much more beyond that. I had a curious reader ask me for more specifics: What age range? What gender? What race?

Well from the get-go we knew we wanted to adopt siblings. It’s harder to find families to adopt groups of siblings; most people, understandably, only want to take on one child at a time. We don’t have any kids, though, and we’re a bit older, financially secure and have a solid relationship. Why not take on more? After all, who wants to go through this entire process a second time?! And at the same time, we can feel good about giving a home to children who might otherwise not get chosen.

At first we thought we’d look at groups of two and three, but our social worker suggested that since we are first-time parents that we might want to stick to just two. So we took her advice and have been focusing on sibling pairs.

Gender? We really want to experience raising kids of both sexes. Since we can choose, why not? I grew up in a home with all girls, and always wanted a brother. (According to my parents, being the 3rd kid I was their last ditch hope for a boy oh well.) A brother never happened so I’d really like to experience having a boy running around the house. As for the girl, what can I say? Being a woman I’d like to have a girl to share those girly experiences with. (No need to worry, I won’t dress us in matching outfits. I’m not that girly.)

Race? No preference. A child is a child and we know we’ll have no trouble being able to love a child of another race. Cultural background? Religious background? We are very open people and also have no preference for these either. We will love our children for who they are, unconditionally, and will nurture their individuality.

Our age range is 3 10. After The Great Diaper Debacle of 2008 I realize a 3-year old is pushing it, so I’m secretly hoping we won’t end up with a kid that young. Ideally our age range would actually be 5 8, but the smaller we make our range the harder it will be to find a match. In the end what matters more than anything is that the children are a good fit for us so we can be the best parents we can be for them. So if we end up with a 3-year old I’ll deal with the possibility of potty issues. Maybe I’ll just need to keep a bucket handy while I change a diaper or wipe a bootie. Ewww.

So we’re set, right? Our agency knows our preferences and started searching on our behalf. We began scouring the online photo listings looking for our future kids. But we kept seeing groups of three. The bigger the group the harder it is to find families willing to adopt them. Is three really too much? Well sure, it probably is for anyone, but could we do it? And more importantly, do we want to do it?

As Bill and I discussed it he said something that really touched me. “I feel like it’s our calling; to adopt the kids that no one wants to adopt.” I feel exactly the same way. We are realistic, though, and know we have limits. There are certain special needs we just can’t take on. But if sibling sets of three are hard to place, then we’re willing to step up to the plate for those kids. That’s something we feel we can do. So we talked to our agency and widened our search.

I told another writer pal (Janna over at Moms Like Sex Too) about us considering sibling groups of three. Just about every person we’ve told looks at us with wide, disbelieving eyes and a look on their face that says, Are you insane? Janna was no exception. “You probably think we’re crazy, right?” I said, expecting her to be polite and tell me we’re not.

Instead, she surprised me. “Oh, you are crazy,” she said assuredly. “But that just means you’re exactly the right people to do it.”

She has a point.

I don’t think it’s the fact that we are considering three kids that freaks people out, but the fact that we would be adopting all three at once. Yes I know it’s a little crazy. Maybe a lot crazy. Maybe we are, in fact, insane. But when I picture our future family I don’t see one kid sitting with us at the dinner table, I see many. Maybe even more than three. (Oh don’t worry. We won’t take on more than three at once. We’re crazy, but not that crazy.) Maybe after this first round we will adopt again. I don’t know. Only time will tell what the future holds. But for right now, at this time in our lives, this feels right. Maybe Janna is right. The fact that we’re crazy enough to even consider it just might mean we should.

And who knows. Just because we widened our search to include groups of three doesn’t mean the children we are matched with will be three siblings. We might get chosen for a set of two. But part of me is really hoping for three. What can I say? Call me crazy.

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In addition to being a writer and aspiring mom, Susan Metters also carries the distinguished title of Cancer Survivor Extraordinaire. Some of her secret ambitions include meeting Dr. Phil, hosting Saturday Night Live, and rising to the top as a rock star. You can read more about Susans life adventures by visiting her blog with the Seattle P.I., . If you have ideas, questions, rants, or ramblings feel free to email susan [at] seattlemomblogs [dot] com.

Well it’s official: I should not adopt nor give birth to an infant. For me older child adoption is the only way to go. Why? Well let me tell you

Recently my hubby Bill and I were babysitting for his brother and wife, Mike & Ronda. Their little girl Emma is the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen (yes I know, I’m biased.) When Mike & Ronda asked if we would take her for an afternoon we jumped on the chance to spend the day with her. We also thought it wouldn’t hurt to get some more kid practice before we adopt.

Emma is a year and a half and therefore still in diapers. I often joke that , and while it’s not really a phobia, I honestly do have a hard time with them. Mike & Ronda know this, but when they dropped her off they were happy to report and we were relieved to hear that she had already pooped that morning. Whew! We should be poop-free for the rest of the afternoon.

Not so fast! Sure enough, she gets a poopy diaper. Now the thing is I’ve actually changed a diaper before ONCE. And I could only manage to do it by NOT LOOKING. (Yes, it’s actually possible to successfully change a diaper with your head turned and a horrified look on your face.) I think since I got through it once before I was a little overconfident with Emma that morning, because when I went to change her diaper I made the mistake of LOOKING.

As soon as I saw the poop I quickly looked away, said to Bill something to the effect of, “Oh my God, that’s SO GROSS!”, and then I started gagging. And then I actually threw up in my mouth a little. And then my eyes got huge and I looked at Bill with a deer-in-the-headlights look on my face as I realized the inevitable. And then I dashed for the bathroom and HURLED.

Yes, I ACTUALLY VOMITED. And the worst part is that it hit me so hard and so fast that I didn’t make it all the way into the toilet before I tossed my pancakes (we did indeed have pancakes that morning). I managed to barf mostly in the toilet but partially on the bathmat. NICE.

So I hurl one big hurl, and then I start laughing because I know how ridiculous this whole freakin’ scenario is. People change millions of diapers a day without barfing! I scooped poop every day for four years working at the animal shelter and NEVER barfed! But I look at poo smeared on a kid’s booty and I projectile vomit? WHATEVER!!!

So I’m laughing, and laughing HARD. I’m laughing so hard that I start crying. Laughing so hard that it took me a minute before I could even stop to talk. Then I yell down the hall to Bill, “OMG dude, I just hurled!” And Bill yells back, sounding a little miffed, “Yeah I know, I heard it.” And that makes me laugh even harder. And all the while my poor hubby is in there having to step up and do what I couldn’t do without barfing. He deserves a gold star or something.

Later on he says to me, “You always know it’s a good party when someone hurls.” Ha! And of course Mike & Ronda laughed their keisters off when we told them. They felt a little bad of course, but it’s too funny not to laugh.

And that, my friends, is why it’s a good thing I’m not having a baby or adopting a baby. The Great Diaper Debacle of 2008 (as I have since dubbed it) pretty much confirmed without a shadow of a doubt that adopting an older kid is definitely the right choice. Yes I know I will still have to deal with some poo, snot, and puke, but at least I won’t have to do it several times a day.

Actually, the truth is I probably won’t end up having to deal with that stuff at all. One glimpse of bodily goo and I’m likely to barf and then Bill will have to deal with it instead. God I love that man.

(Yeah I know, I’ve already been told a thousand times “It’s different with your own kids”, but honestly, I have no desire to find out if that’s actually true!)

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In addition to being a writer and aspiring mom, Susan Metters also carries the distinguished title of Cancer Survivor Extraordinaire. Some of her secret ambitions include meeting Dr. Phil, hosting Saturday Night Live, and rising to the top as a rock star. You can read more about Susans life adventures by visiting her blog with the Seattle P.I., . If you have ideas, questions, rants, or ramblings feel free to email susan [at] seattlemomblogs [dot] com.

One interesting aspect of adoption is the ability to choose. Having a biological kid, well, you kinda just get what you get. You have sex, the fastest sperm and the egg for that month collide, and you’ve got a baby in the making. (Yeah, yeah I know I’m oversimplifying the process.) What comes out roughly 9-months later is anyone’s guess. We can pretty much bet it will be human, of course, and a conglomeration of Mom and Dad’s genes. But what exactly those ingredients create really can’t be known until that bun comes out of the oven.

Will it be a boy or a girl? Will it have hair or no hair? Straight hair or curly? Will it have all 10 fingers and toes? Will your wee one be healthy? Free of birth defects? How about personality? Intelligence? Will your child grow up to be tall like dad or short like mom? There are a lot of variables, even within a known gene pool, and you don’t get to pick and choose the traits that you hope your little one will have.

With adoption you have a little more opportunity to choose. Do I want a boy or girl? Do I want my child to be the same race as me or am I open to (or even prefer) another race? Do I want to adopt from this country or another country? What age do I want to adopt? Do I want to adopt one child or siblings?

If the child is older there’s even more choice involved, mainly because more is known. Do I want my child to be a toddler, school-aged, preteen or teenager? Do I want a child that’s already been raised in my same religion? How about personality do I want an outgoing child or a reserved one? One that’s funny, brainy, gentle, or spunky? How about interests? Do I want a child that loves animals, likes camping, swimming, video games, or reading?

Oooh, this is fun, isn’t it? I get to pick and choose my family! Hmmm, not so fast

Here’s the thing admittedly it’s kinda cool to have some choice in the matter. Or so it seems at first glance. But as Bill and I got farther into it we quickly discovered that all this choosing isn’t so fun. Quite frankly it’s equally a blessing and a curse, especially when it comes to special needs.

At one point we were actually given a checklist of a whole host of potential problems. We were asked to go down that list and check the things we were willing to take on as an adoptive parent. Everything from asthma to Down Syndrome you name it, it was on the list. And you know what? For every box we left unchecked we felt like complete jerks.

Are we horrible people if we say we don’t want to parent a child with autism? Or a child in a wheelchair? How about a child with Fetal Alcohol Syndrome? Is ADHD something we’re willing to take on? What about blindness, deafness, seizure disorders, cleft palate, aggressive behaviors, depression, anxiety, self-injuring, Down Syndrome, etc, etc, etc??

How in the world can you pick and choose these things? I mean, on the one hand it’s a little bit of a relief to know that if I don’t want a kid with11 toes I don’t have to worry about that. (Obviously I wouldn’t care if my kid had 11 toes; I purposely chose a benign example.) But you know what? Who am I to choose that? If I had a biological kid born with 11 toes obviously I would love that child unconditionally. I would rise to any challenges that came our way. And because I would love a bio kid unconditionally shouldn’t I love any adopted kid unconditionally???

So faced with a checklist like that, what would you do? Would you check everything? Seriously, ask yourself that. If you could pick and choose, what would your checklist look like?

Let’s think of it in terms of biological kids for a minute. If it were possible to have a similar checklist before your child was born would you honestly check everything? No, you wouldn’t. You wouldn’t even check the box for 11 toes. If, for some reason, the kitchen got your order wrong and your bun came out of the oven with 11 toes, you’d rise to the challenge. But you didn’t choose it, and you would never choose it if you had the choice.

Picking and choosing children isn’t like picking out new pillows for the couch or a new paint color for the bathroom. These are people. And yet as part of the process our agency required that we fill out the checklist. Why? Because honestly, each of us has our limitations. There are some things we could deal with like champs and some things that would push us to the brink. If we take on a child with a special need that we know will push us to the brink, are we doing that child any good? Because you know what? It all comes back to the kids. It’s not really about what I do or don’t want in a child. It’s about my ability to parent that child and give them the best life possible. If I say I’m okay with a kid with 11 toes when I know deep down that 11 toes is going beyond my capabilities, then the person I’m really hurting is the child.

So with guilt washing over us, we went through each item on the checklist. We had a lot of discussions; we did a lot of soul-searching. And we checked our boxes. We felt good about the ones we checked, and felt like jerks about the ones we didn’t. But all the while we reminded ourselves that we are human, and we can only do so much. As much as it hurt, we had to be brutally honest with ourselves for the sake of our future children.

We are choosing adoption. We are choosing special needs. Though many boxes were left unchecked, many others were. Picking and choosing is hard, but I have to remind myself that the fact that we are choosing at all means that a child without a home will soon have a forever family. There should be no guilt in that.

I am only one, but still I am one. I cannot do everything, but still I can do something; and because I cannot do everything, I will not refuse to do something that I can do. Edmund Everett Hale

This entry also posted with the . Copyright 2008 Susan Metters. All rights reserved.
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In addition to being a writer and aspiring mom, Susan Metters also carries the distinguished title of Cancer Survivor Extraordinaire. Some of her secret ambitions include meeting Dr. Phil, hosting Saturday Night Live, and rising to the top as a rock star. You can read more about Susans life adventures by visiting her blog with the Seattle P.I., . If you have ideas, questions, rants, or ramblings feel free to email Susan at susan [at] seattlemomblogs [dot] com.

On Saturday we went to an event called “Kids’ Fest” hosted by Northwest Adoption Exchange (NWAE). It was an interesting experience.

So what is Kids’ Fest exactly? It’s an opportunity for prospective adoptive parents to meet children in the foster system. It’s a party with a carnival-type atmosphere where the kids are running around, engaging in different activities and having fun. The adults are joining in the play and hanging out with the kids. There is no talk about foster care or adoption it’s all about fun and playful interaction. The point is just to meet and mingle with several kids who are waiting for adoption.

Bill and I interacted with several kids. We started by shooting hoops with a 9 & 10-year old brother and sister, then moved on to eating pizza with a 10-year old girl, frosting cookies with a 12-year old boy, and playing bongo drums with a 7-year old girl and her 10-year old sister. There were other kids we met along the way too.

It’s a neat idea, but I have to admit it was weird at the same time. It was definitely cool to put some warm bodies to the faces we’d seen in the photo listings and to hang out with different kids. At the same time it felt very awkward at least for the adults.

Here’s the thing: we’re surrounded by all these kids, all currently in foster care, all hoping for a home. The younger kiddos are just having fun but you know the older ones understand the purpose of the party. What do they think about that? How does that make them feel? The sad part is you know that Kids’ Fest isn’t going to result in a new family for every kid that was there.

Some of the kids we met were very open and engaging, but some of the kids were quite closed. You’d try to talk to them and interact but they had no interest in talking to you. I had to wonder, are they so jaded that they feel like there’s no point? Have they already decided they’re not going to “get picked”? Have they been so let down by the adults in their lives that they just can’t trust anymore? It’s heartbreaking to think about.

Sadly, foster kids have a bad rap. People tend to think they are riddled with problems, that they’re “damaged goods”. But when you think about it, aren’t we all to some degree? These kids had a rough start, and yes, it’s affected them. But as we hung out with these kids it was amazing to see their resilience. Even those that were a bit closed were still enjoying themselves and participating in the activities. Despite what they’ve been through they still knew how to have fun.

While we don’t think any of the kids we met will end up being a match for us, Kids’ Fest was worth going to. If nothing else Kid’s Fest confirmed what we already knew in our hearts and minds: all of these children are still just “regular” kids. I just wish the rest of the world knew that.

This entry also posted with the . Copyright 2008 Susan Metters. All rights reserved.
_______________________________________________________
In addition to being a writer and aspiring mom, Susan Metters also carries the distinguished title of Cancer Survivor Extraordinaire. Some of her secret ambitions include meeting Dr. Phil, hosting Saturday Night Live, and rising to the top as a rock star. You can read more about Susans life adventures by visiting her blog with the Seattle P.I., . If you have ideas, questions, rants, or ramblings feel free to email Susan at susan [at] seattlemomblogs [dot] com.

I seem to have a thing for controversy lately.

At Microsoft there are email groups also called aliases for different communities. These are non-work related but supported by Microsoft due to their value to the employees. One of the email groups/communities is the adoption alias.

Well last week there was a flurry of activity on the alias. Teleflora in conjunction with Kraft, NBC, Redbook and was holding a contest called “America’s Favorite Mom“. Now I’m assuming this contest has been going on for a while, but someone on the MS adoption alias caught wind of it and, well, all hell broke loose.

Here’s the problem: in the contest there were the following categories, accompanied by the following descriptions:

The Military Mom She’s either far from home, the wife of a soldier, or works at home on her own to support our troops. She is a hero to her kids.
The Working Mom She works away or at home, all the while managing to balance career and family. Quite a feat.
The Single Mom She’s raising her child alone, whether by circumstances or by choice. Whatever happens, the buck stops with her.
The Non-Mom Mom Grandparent, stepmom, or mom to adopted children, each one raising and loving a child. A priceless gift for everybody.
The COE “Chairman of Everything” Mom She’s the “soccer mom.” She gave up her career to raise her family. Chauffeur, cook, tutor, nurse — she does it all.

Did you notice where the adoptive mom ended up? In the Non-Mom Mom category. Yikes.

I haven’t been at this adoption thing very long, and I don’t even have kids yet, but there’s one thing I learned very early in the process: if there’s anything that will raise the hackles of an adoptive parent it’s when someone refers to their child’s birthmother as the “real mom”. A question as simple as, “So was Johnny’s real mom from out of state?” will cause an adoptive parent to see red.

And it’s no wonder. Adoptive parents are real parents. They are the ones there for the first day of school, for every baseball game, for every school play. They are the ones standing there with camera in hand on prom night and proud tears in their eyes on graduation day. And let’s not forget the less glamorous times such as sleepless nights of vomiting and diarrhea. Adoptive parents are just as “real” as if they had given birth to their children.

Needless to say the adoptive parents on the Microsoft adoption alias didn’t take the non-mom category lying down. They told all their friends about it (I heard about it from hubby and another MS friend) and asked everyone to raise a stink with the people running the contest. I would venture to guess that other adoptive parents and groups across the nation did the same, because in short order the category was renamed and an apology showed up on the site:

Teleflora is immediately changing the name of our “Non-Mom” category to “Adopting Moms”. After closer examination, we can see how this may have been offensive to moms who have adopted children — moms who are indeed real moms to their children in every sense of the word. In fact, many of us at Teleflora are “adopting” parents ourselves, including our president and owner. The essence of this category still focuses on a grandparent, neighbor, step mom, or mom to adopted or foster children, each one raising and loving a child.

This show of insensitivity on our part was in no way intended and we deeply apologize for any concern or distress we may have caused. It was always our intent to salute and celebrate all moms.

Personally I tend to assume the best in people, and feel that most shows of insensitivity are due to ignorance. You can’t know how it feels to be in a certain position if you’ve never been there, right? When some people said some insensitive things, but only because they’d never been through it. I never held it against them, and when it was appropriate, I gently corrected them.

I don’t think Teleflora’s insensitivity was intentional either, but I’m glad people contacted them and corrected them. It’s important for people to realize that words matter. By calling an adoptive mom a non-mom they were negating the legitimacy of adoptive parenthood. Likewise, by calling a birthmother the child’s “real mom” you are inadvertently implying that the adoptive mother is a “fake mom”. Both birthmoms and adoptive moms are “real” moms; they simply have different roles in the child’s life.

So to help out those of you not familiar with adoption terminology, here’s some advice: when speaking to an adoptive parent or even an adopted child, never, ever, ever refer to the biological parents as the child’s “real mom” or “real dad”. The preferred terminology is birthmother, birthfather, and birthparents.

And what do you call the adoptive parents? Simply call them “mom” and “dad”. After all, that’s exactly what they are.

This entry also posted with the . Copyright 2008 Susan Metters. All rights reserved.
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In addition to being a writer and aspiring mom, Susan Metters also carries the distinguished title of Cancer Survivor Extraordinaire. Some of her secret ambitions include meeting Dr. Phil, hosting Saturday Night Live, and rising to the top as a rock star. You can read more about Susans life adventures by visiting her blog with the Seattle P.I., . If you have ideas, questions, rants, or ramblings feel free to email Susan at susan [at] seattlemomblogs [dot] com.

In honor of Mother’s Day, here’s a funny video of two brothers trying to take a picture for their mom for Mother’s Day. It makes me laugh every time I watch it!

Remind me not to adopt two boys. (Just kidding!)

Happy Mother’s Day to all you wonderful moms out there!

There has been a lot of hoopla lately about the recent release of the video game, (aka, GTA4). Many parents are up in arms over its raunchy themes and the constant bad behaviors displayed by the main characters. Behaviors like killing police officers, drunk driving, doing drugs, frequenting strip clubs and plowing down innocent pedestrians with various stolen cars. Oh yes, and let’s not forget the constant stream of f-bombs and offensive language.

In this recent stir of controversy surrounding GTA4, even Mothers Against Drunk Driving (MADD) has had . They’ve requested the Entertainment Software Ratings Board (ESRB) to reclassify the game as “Adults Only”; its current rating is Mature. In addition, they’ve called on publisher Take-Two Interactive and developer Rockstar Games to consider stopping distribution of the game.

I get it, I really do. The game is incredibly irreverent on many levels. How do I know? Because my husband bought the game and has been playing it for the last week.

So yes, I’ve seen it. I’ve sat alongside my husband for several hours, watching him play. Both of us periodically find ourselves saying things like, “OMG! I can’t believe he just did that! That is sooooo bad!!” in reaction to the antics of the game’s characters. And then we shake our heads and laugh.

Personally, I think MADD and all the other parents freaking out about this game need to chill out.

Now hang on a sec before you blast me for saying that! Let me explain my stance.

I think the critical problem here, the thing that parents are losing sight of, is the fact that not all video games are intended for children. Yet somehow many parents seem to think that they are, so they get upset when a game is inappropriate for their children. But you know what? Video games are like movies. Some are for kids, and some are for adults. Plain and simple.

The makers of GTA4 did not create this crazy game for kids. They made it for adults. (And yes, there are a lot of adults that play video games. My hubby and I included.) This is why the game is rated M, which means “mature”, which means basically the same thing as an R-rated movie.

And that’s what parents need to compare video games to: movies. Video games are not “toys”. They are a form of entertainment made for people of every age. Just like movies, you have to use your parental judgment to decide what your kids are allowed to play. Would you plop your 5-year old in front of an R-rated movie? Of course you wouldn’t. Neither should you plop them in front of M-rated games.

The ratings are there to help us, the parents. It is our responsibility to pay attention to those ratings and to supervise the games our children play. We need to teach our children to use sound judgment when playing games at a friend’s house. We need to foster relationships with the parents of our kids’ friends so that everyone is on the same page. And if the other parents don’t care and let their 10-year old play M-rated games, then guess what? I guess Johnny doesn’t get to go to Davey’s house anymore. You are the parent. It’s up to you to parent your children, not up to the video game industry to make games you approve of.

As for MADD, I do understand their concerns. The problem here again is that they are losing sight of another important aspect of video games: this is fantasy, it’s not real life. Just because I’ve watched a movie depicting someone driving drunk doesn’t mean I’m going to decide to go out and do it myself. I’m an adult and I know the difference between make-believe and real life, between right and wrong. Video games made for adults are no different. If you’re offended by the content then don’t watch the movie or play the video game.

My husband is one of the sweetest, most level-headed, gentle and responsible people I know. Trust me, I have no worries that after playing GTA4 that he’s going to somehow suddenly decide to become a gangster and start driving drunk. He’s not. He’s going to keep working at Microsoft making video games, and being the wonderful husband (and soon to be father) that I know him to be. And when kiddos finally grace our household, games like GTA4 won’t be anywhere to be found.

To familiarize yourself with game ratings, please visit the ERSB website. If you read the descriptions GTA4 is appropriately rated as M. Descriptions of movie ratings can be found on the Motion Picture Association of America website.

This entry also posted with the . Copyright 2008 Susan Metters. All rights reserved.
_______________________________________________________
In addition to being a writer and aspiring mom, Susan Metters also carries the distinguished title of Cancer Survivor Extraordinaire. Some of her secret ambitions include meeting Dr. Phil, hosting Saturday Night Live, and rising to the top as a rock star. You can read more about Susans life adventures by visiting her blog with the Seattle P.I., . If you have ideas, questions, rants, or ramblings feel free to email Susan at susan [at] seattlemomblogs [dot] com.