I recently read an article on another blog entitled, "In Adoption, Love Means Never Having to Say You're Grateful." It really resonated with me as I hear often, "oh they are so lucky" or people telling my girls "you're so lucky." I always answer, quite truthfully, "no, we are the ones truly blessed!" The older my Sweetness and Sunshine get, and the more they understand the ramifications of how they came to be our precious daughters, the more I cringe when I hear the lucky comment.
I am sure, beyond a shadow of a doubt, there are days they wish they weren't so "lucky." Just like my biological children, they have a deeply flawed, sinful mom who messes up this motherhood thing on a daily, (even an hourly!) basis. They have an impatient mom with unrealistic expectations; a mom who wants them to act grown-up and not make mistakes; a mom who sometimes yells at them; a mom who gets weary and doesn't always give them the time they need and deserve. Unlike my biological children though, these girls can imagine another mother somewhere. One who would behave so much better. One who would love them better, never make mistakes, never fail them.
As we enter the teen years and my girls are grappling with their own independence and finding their own way, this other mother is even more enticing to imagine. I am certain they love me. I also know there are times they wish they weren't so "lucky" to have me. And I want them to know that is okay. Pre-teen and teen girls don't always like their moms. (And if we're honest, not all moms "like" their pre-teen and teen girls 100% of the time either.) My girls don't need anyone putting any extra expectations or guilt on them. My blessings came from someone else's great loss. It is a great loss that has also left scars on their hearts as well. Adding a burden of expected gratefulness is not only unnecessary, it is also unkind. They are first and foremost our daughters and are as entitled as Clone, Swan and Frog to feel we are unreasonable and horrible parents. Each of our five children is equally "lucky" (or "unlucky" depending on their perspective that day) to have us for parents. The only difference in their lives as our children is the means in which they became part of our family.
I know this mythically perfect mother looms large in their minds regularly. I am not threatened. I have the wisdom to know what they do not, she is not perfect either. Life with her would have its good days and bad days, just as they do with me. I also know, with 100% certainty, no other mother, mythical or real, could love any of my children one iota more than I do, and that I am lucky and blessed above all moms to call my children mine.
I am sure, beyond a shadow of a doubt, there are days they wish they weren't so "lucky." Just like my biological children, they have a deeply flawed, sinful mom who messes up this motherhood thing on a daily, (even an hourly!) basis. They have an impatient mom with unrealistic expectations; a mom who wants them to act grown-up and not make mistakes; a mom who sometimes yells at them; a mom who gets weary and doesn't always give them the time they need and deserve. Unlike my biological children though, these girls can imagine another mother somewhere. One who would behave so much better. One who would love them better, never make mistakes, never fail them.
As we enter the teen years and my girls are grappling with their own independence and finding their own way, this other mother is even more enticing to imagine. I am certain they love me. I also know there are times they wish they weren't so "lucky" to have me. And I want them to know that is okay. Pre-teen and teen girls don't always like their moms. (And if we're honest, not all moms "like" their pre-teen and teen girls 100% of the time either.) My girls don't need anyone putting any extra expectations or guilt on them. My blessings came from someone else's great loss. It is a great loss that has also left scars on their hearts as well. Adding a burden of expected gratefulness is not only unnecessary, it is also unkind. They are first and foremost our daughters and are as entitled as Clone, Swan and Frog to feel we are unreasonable and horrible parents. Each of our five children is equally "lucky" (or "unlucky" depending on their perspective that day) to have us for parents. The only difference in their lives as our children is the means in which they became part of our family.
I know this mythically perfect mother looms large in their minds regularly. I am not threatened. I have the wisdom to know what they do not, she is not perfect either. Life with her would have its good days and bad days, just as they do with me. I also know, with 100% certainty, no other mother, mythical or real, could love any of my children one iota more than I do, and that I am lucky and blessed above all moms to call my children mine.
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