Page 1 ~ Fall 2014
Art
Photography
Poetry
And More
Page 2 ~ Fall 2014
Page 3 ~ Fall 2014
Page 4 ~ Fall 2014
Page 5 ~ Fall 2014
Page 6 ~ Fall 2014
Dear Readers,
T his has been a wild ride! Everyone came down with the flu right before production was to begin and that messed
up the whole schedule. However, it was a fantastic lesson in perseverance, prioritizing of goals, and what we really want to do with this brain child of Parents Ink!
I’m so pleased that we were able to come together and give you a beautiful, thoughtful magazine that we hope will enrich your lives and encourage you to view parenting as a creative adventure. Everyone here is a parent or grandparent simply wanting to share their gifts and talents with you. Enjoy!
Best,
Jeni Tetamore Editor-in-Chief
PARENTS INK ACCEPTS:
● Fiction
● Creative Nonfiction
● Poetry/Prose
● Essay
● Article
● How--To Article
● Recipes
● Product/Book/Movie Re-
view
● Photography
● Graphic Art
● Cartoon/Comic
● Images of physical art
such as:
Painting
Sculpture
Jewelry
Pottery
Quilting
Needlework
And More
Send all submissions to:
Page 7 ~ Fall 2014
Page 8 ~ Fall 2014
HELLO NUMBERS DISCOVERY PACK is a portable multisensory learning tool that reduces math anxiety by turning numbers into “friends you can count on.” Each plush number includes magnets on both sides of its “head,” allowing the creation of multiple-digit numbers, and embroidered dots on the back link the number shape to its quantity. The number characters also appear in the associated book Hello Numbers and free tablet app for iPads. The book includes 72 stickers and a decoder in the shape of Zero that allows children to create their own numbers and discover secrets on each two-page spread. The combination of book, plush and app makes this a great way to introduce children to the fun and friendly number characters!
Page 9 ~ Fall 2014
Page 10 ~ Fall 2014
Page 11 ~ Fall 2014
Page 12 ~ Fall 2014
I have to think to breathe; I keep glancing at the funeral home.
Mom and Dad are sitting in the front. Mom turns and looks at me,
“Are you ready?”
I glance up at her and mutter, “As ready as I can be.” Tears form in my eyes.
They get out of the car and wait as I force my body to move. My legs feel as though
they are bricks. My heart stops as I close the door; Mom walks over to me and puts
her hand on my shoulder, “Shawntee, just remember all the good times you had with
Page 13 ~ Fall 2014
Michelle. She would want that.”
I was five years old when I first
met Michelle Anderson, Jesse her
husband, her children David and
Adrianne. Adrianne was eight years old,
the same age as my sister, Niki. They
quickly became friends, and soon our
whole family became friends. While
following Niki and Adrianne around all
the time, I got to know Michelle better.
Michelle was in her mid-thirties.
Long brown hair, incredible dark brown
eyes, with a kind and loving face, she
had a bright big smile and a laugh that
was contagious. She cared about all the
people in her life. In my eyes, Michelle
was a wife, a mother, and a good friend;
she was absolutely perfect to me. Her
soul and heart were strong. She was
once in the military and very proud. I
thought that was the coolest thing in
the world. She quickly became one of
my favorite people to be around. She
was there for me and would help me
when I needed it, especially when it
came to Niki and Adrianne.
Niki and I were playing at their
house one time, and Niki decided to
spend the night with Adrianne. I asked
if I could stay, but both Niki and
Adrianne said no. Michelle heard me ask
them if I could stay. She told them they
had to be nice and let me spend the
night too. It was one of the worst nights
that I can remember from my
childhood. That was the night Niki and
Adrianne convinced me they were
powerful witches by calling upon Jon
Benet Ramsey. They wanted to know
how she was killed. It was the biggest
story on the news. We sat in a circle in
Adrianne’s room with a box in the
Page 14 ~ Fall 2014
middle of us and a candle. The lights
were off only the candle gave us a little
flickering light. Niki’s face was dark, and
Adrianne’s was coming in and out of
darkness from the candle. Niki looked at
me and laughed, “Are you sure you still
want to be here?”
“I’m not afraid. I can be a big kid
just like you!” I tried very hard to sound
confident, but I was trembling.
Adrianne just looked at me and
rolled her eyes, “Let’s get started.”
“Okay, everyone grab hands and
make sure you close your eyes. We need
to all whisper her name over and over.
When I feel her presence I will ask her
the question.”
I nodded still pretending I wasn’t
scared. I grabbed one of their hands on
each side of me and closed my eyes. I
did what I was told and whispered her
name over and over. Everything from
that point on made my stomach turn.
Niki stopped chanting her name,
“Jon Benet Ramsey, we want to know
who killed you and how. Please tell us.”
I continued to chant until I noticed
that Adrianne also went silent and they
were no longer holding my hands. I
opened my eyes to find Niki acting as
though she had a knife in her hands and
Adrianne was on the floor under Niki.
Niki started to move her hands up and
down as if she were stabbing Adrianne
over and over. I screamed and ran out
of the room. I was in tears; my heart
was racing as I ran downstairs to
Michelle.
“What’s wrong, Shawntee?”
Michelle hugged me as I ran into her.
“Jon Benet Ramsey possessed Niki
and Adrianne and showed us how she
Page 15 ~ Fall 2014
was killed.” I looked up at Michelle and saw her smile and slightly shake her head.
“Oh honey, they were just teasing you. Let’s watch a movie.” We sat down on
the couch and watched until I fell asleep.
I started going over to their house not to play with Niki and Adrianne, but to
hang out with Michelle. I remember
sitting at her bar watching her cook
in the kitchen.
“I asked Bobby out today.” I couldn’t
hold back my giggle.
Michelle looked up from the counter,
“Well what did he say?”
“He said it’s still the beginning of the year. He wants to get used to school again
before he gets a girlfriend.” I looked down at the counter and started playing with my
hands.
“Maybe he has a point. School is the most important thing right now. You
shouldn’t even bother with those silly boys.”
“Not bother with boys. Are you crazy?” I jumped out of my seat and laughed.
“Shawntee, you’re young and have a lot of life ahead of you. To worry so much
about boys right now could make things harder for you. An education is important.”
She wasn’t smiling anymore. I could tell she was being serious, but I didn’t like it
when she was serious; I got enough of that kind of stuff from Mom. That was the
Page 16 ~ Fall 2014
thing about Michelle though; she always
gave good advice.
When I was in the fourth grade I
switched to a new school, and Mom
made plans for Michelle to watch me
once in a while when I was off track. I
loved it. I would go over to her house
with a bunch of activities and she would
always do them with me. I remember
one activity I brought over was this
mermaid fish tank. It was supposed to
be one that lasted forever. The water
was actually gel. Once we put the sand
in the bottom and got the gel to the
correct consistency we put the fake
plants and mermaid in. “This can last
forever just like our friendship.” I ran to
Michelle’s side and gave her a hug. I
must have startled her because the way
she flinched when I touched her was a
little weird.
I would help her clean around
the house, something I didn’t really do
at my own house. I would follow her
around to each room talking nonstop,
“Cleaning at your house is way more
fun than at mine.”
Michelle laughed, “Yes, but you
should still be nice and help your mom
and dad out. You don’t want to live in a
messy house do you?”
“I guess you’re right.” That
was a conversation my mom was happy
for because I actually did start helping
around our house a little more.
Michelle would take me shopping,
and since she was a veteran she was
able to go to certain stores that were
on a base. There were a lot of other
veterans there. I would see all the men
and women, walking around and
wonder what happened to them. Some
Page 17 ~ Fall 2014
were hurt, some missing
limbs, made me sad but also
happy because they were
willing to give up so much
for us. Michelle always told
me, “Don’t feel sad for them.
Be thankful that they were
willing to fight for America.
Be grateful for what they
have given up for you and
their families. People who
choose to go into the military
know what they are getting
into, and they do it proudly.”
I looked up at her,
“Just like you?”
Michelle grabbed my hand and squeezed, “I was willing to give up everything.”
“You don’t look like you’re hurt though, you look nothing like some of
these men and women.” I pointed to some of the people around us.
“No, but the damage isn’t always visible. Now let’s leave and get other
errands done.”
Page 18 ~ Fall 2014
I didn’t understand what she meant. How could damage from the military
not be visible?
I thought I knew her well, but there were times I would walk into a room
and notice her acting different than normal. One time I looked at her face and it was
almost as if she wasn’t really there. The moment she saw me though, it was as if she
was back to normal and nothing ever happened. I never asked because I wasn’t sure
I actually saw anything.
One night, I woke up to
flashing lights coming from
outside. When I got up and
looked out the window
there was an ambulance at
the end of the block. Jesse
was standing there by the
stretcher. Michelle was on
the stretcher, but she wasn’t really moving. I could see little straps around her waist.
It scared me; I wanted to cry and run to my parent’s room, but I couldn’t tear myself
away from the window. After that night Michelle stopped watching me. No one told
me what happened that night or why she wasn’t able to watch me anymore. That
was in the middle of fifth grade.
The last time I saw Michelle was when, my oldest sister Ilea went into labor,
Page 19 ~ Fall 2014
and both my parents were at the hospital
with her. Mom made arrangements with
Michelle for me and Niki to stay at her
house that night.
After that Michelle and her family
moved I lost contact with her because I
was getting older and busier with soccer,
friends, and school. I was finally in sixth
grade. I loved it, and I was excited because my teachers had both my sisters at one
point so they knew me. I was ready for a good year. I kept my grades up and played
soccer. I didn’t think much about Michelle, and I feel horrible about that. I had my
own friends though, so going over to Michelle’s wasn’t something I even thought
about.
One Sunday, I was at my friend Shannon’s house waiting for my parents
to come pick me up. I was getting anxious since they told me they were going to be
there at eleven and it was already one. They were never late. It was an extremely
hot day. The sun was out and shinning brighter than ever, not a cloud in sight. I was
in my favorite dark blue jean shorts with stars on the back pockets and my favorite
turquoise tank top; I could smell the fresh cut grass from all around. When my
parents finally came, both my sisters and my nephew were in the car. Niki was in
tears, and everyone else was really quiet. Mom said hello, opened up the back door
Page 20 ~ Fall 2014
and helped me get in. It was the
quietest ride home I ever
experienced. My family was never
quiet. I knew something was wrong,
but I had no idea what. I was staring
at Niki, but she wouldn’t return the
look. Ilea kept glancing back at me,
but no matter how much I smiled she
wouldn’t. She wouldn’t talk to me
either.
I finally gave up trying to get
someone to tell me because I was
starting to feel uncomfortable. I just
sat back put my legs up and held on.
When we got home everyone quickly
got out of the car and went inside. I
waited for mom to come open the door;
it felt like hours before she got to me.
When she opened it she looked at me
with sad eyes. As I started to get out of
the car I grabbed her hand, “What’s
wrong mom?”
She put her other hand on top of
mine, “Sweetie, Michelle died
yesterday.”
The words came out of her
mouth. I saw her lips moving, but I still
didn’t believe it. “No! You’re joking. This
is just some horrible joke!”
Page 21 ~ Fall 2014
May 8th, 1999 is the day that my
second mom, one of my best friends
died. She died a horrible death. There
were things about Michelle that no one
ever told me, because they didn’t think I
would understand. She was in a hotel
room and had an PTSD episode, and she
fell from a sixth floor balcony. No one
really knows the full story, because
Adrianne wasn’t in the room at the
time. It was all just a guess. It was
something I didn’t want to believe
“Shawntee, are we going in?” Dad
pulls me from my thoughts.
“Yes, I have to say good bye.” With
Mom on one side and Dad on the
other we slowly walk into the funeral
home.
As we walk into the room, there
are flowers and candles all around,
rows full of people crying. I look up at
the front of the room where the casket
sits. It’s open, and knowing that her
body is laying there lifeless, tears fall
down my cheeks. Calm quiet music plays
as whispers, and whimpers come from
the people in the room.
I see Adrianne and David sitting in
the front row both crying. I’m not able to
Page 22 ~ Fall 2014
talk to them. I don’t want to upset
them anymore, and I’m afraid I will
start crying. She was their mother. I
feel like if I cry more than them I’ll look
like a fool. Jesse wasn’t crying, just
standing at the end of the row talking
to some friends. A picture of Michelle
stands next to the casket. It’s a military
picture; her holding a gun her hair
pulled back, a serious but calm face.
She was beautiful, proud as she
would’ve said. As I walk up to the
casket I grab Mom’s hand and squeeze.
My heart is throbbing. I feel light
headed like I’m going to pass out, but I
have to go see her. Mom pulls me back,
“Now Shawntee, don’t forget, Michelle
isn’t going to look like herself. They had
to do some work to help her look as
normal as possible.” I nod, let go of her
hand and walk up to the casket. It feels
as though the casket was miles away.
I have my eyes closed as I step
up to the casket. I take a deep breath
in and open my eyes. To look down on
her peaceful body makes my stomach
turn. She is laying there with her hands
on her stomach. She is wearing a light
blue dress suit. She has make-up on, I
can tell they used a lot because they
want to cover up bruises and make sure
she looks as beautiful as she did when
she was alive. She never wore make-up
when she was alive, so no matter how
much they put on or try she doesn’t
look like herself. It takes me a minute
to notice that she has no neck. At that
moment I freak out and turn into Mom
crying hysterically, I can’t hold it in
anymore.
I should never have gone to the
wake. I know that now. I was too
Page 23 ~ Fall 2014
young to really understand what was
going on. I now have two pictures of
Michelle engraved in my mind, and one
of them I wish so much that I could just
throw away. Losing her was a shock,
and it was hard enough to go through.
The wake was the hardest part of it all.
Seeing her lifeless body in her casket
tore my heart from my chest, and made
my legs feel like jelly. Knowing that I
was never going to see her again was
horrifying.
The next day was her funeral, and
since she was a veteran she received
the military salute and send off. I went
through this type of funeral before when
my Grandfather died, so I was ready for
the gun fire. They cremated her body
after the wake. Seeing that little urn full
of her ashes compared to the big casket
she was in the day before, killed me on
the inside. By that point I wasn’t able to
stop crying, my body finally gave up. I
was no longer the strong girl. I wanted
to run away, and pretend none of this
was happening. I was hurting worse
than I thought possible. I kept hoping,
Michelle would come out and say it was
all a joke that she was okay, but of
course it never happened.
I will always hold on to her
memory. She was an amazing woman,
and I am truly grateful to have met her.
Page 24 ~ Fall 2014
Page 25 ~ Fall 2014
Page 26 ~ Fall 2014
Page 27 ~ Fall 2014
Page 28 ~ Fall 2014
Page 29 ~ Fall 2014
It seems like there’s always more to the story…
I last wrote on changes and transitions. I was planning for retirement, thinking of
selling our house, being an ‘empty-nester’ and filled with plans and dreams. I still
have all of the plans and dreams…we still have all the plans and dreams, but they are
farther in the future than we first thought!
You have probably heard the statement, ‘Man makes plans and God laughs’. It’s true!
In our planning, we forgot to consider the ‘God factor’, and had followed our own
way. Here’s what happened…
Over a period of 8 or 9 months, I came to the end of all of my commitments. I was a
‘Mentor Mom’ in a long running morning Bible study. Over the past couple of years
there have been no new younger moms for us to mentor. Our ‘veterans’ were well
trained and reaching out both at church and in the community, which was the goal of
the program. The Mentor Moms realized the need for the group was nearing its end,
so we prepared a grand finale and called it finished. End of my commitment.
I attempted to contact a couple of the younger women in church to participate in an
ongoing fellowship group. Every time I attempted to connect with one of the women
involved, they were somehow unavailable. Roadblock to me…
My husband and I had been involved in a Bible study/Fellowship group with other
couples in our neighborhood for several years. We decided at the end of a school year
to stop meeting for the summer and see
what the Lord had in store. All were in
agreement to break for the summer.
Another ‘end of commitment’ for me.
My husband thought we needed a 2nd
vehicle. An SUV, exactly with all of the
‘bells and whistles’ he deemed necessary
‘just happened’ to be available when he
was out car shopping one Saturday. He
called a dealership on a whim and was told
Page 30 ~ Fall 2014
they did not have what he was looking for…a salesman called back within about 5
minutes and said they actually DID have one, but it wasn’t even in their system and
hadn’t been prepped or detailed for the sales yard! He drove over, looked, found it
perfect, and at the exact right price. SOLD! Planning ahead for the future while God
looks on, laughing!
My husband also tried very persistently to purchase a tow-behind travel trailer for
our next stage of life. He drove all over the area looking at trailers and refining his
vision for what our needs would be. He drove to a few other states following up on
phone calls – salesmen who told him they had exactly what he wanted for exactly
the right price. We took a few road trips to view these trailers and, imagine! NONE
were the right trailer or the right price. He even found a few that were ‘good enough’
and tried to purchase. Each deal fell through for one reason or another.
Roadblock!
Fast forward a few months and we
became new grandparents! Our
children were in need of childcare for
their new baby and without the
resources they needed in their area.
Let’s see…
1) No commitments or
obligations.
Check.
2) Second car.
Check.
3) Availability and willingness to serve.
Check.
Everything lined up perfectly so that we could be available to help our loved ones
during a time of transition. Sometimes God lays things out so plainly – in neon
footsteps - you just can’t miss it!
Page 31 ~ Fall 2014
Page 32 ~ Fall 2014
Page 33 ~ Fall 2014
Page 34 ~ Fall 2014
Homeopathy and naturopathy have been around since man first figured out chewing mint would freshen his breath, willow bark would relieve his pain, and crushing certain herbs together would ease digestion. There is literature from thousands of years ago, written on papyrus or carved into stone, illustrating remedies that one could derive from natural resources by the doctors and shamans of the time. In more recent years, people have again begun to turn to natural remedies in an effort to cut some of the chemical dependence from their daily lives.
However, there is a common misconception that the shift toward homeopathy and naturopathy is recent, or at least something that has really only been become popular again in the last thirty or forty years except this is not the case at all. With companies like Boiron being around since 1932 (that's 83 years ago, folks!), the truth is homeopathy and naturopathic medicine has been on the public market for quite a while!
Boiron is one of the longest run homeopathic pharmaceutical companies in existence. It was started by twin brothers and pharmacists Jean and Henri Boiron in Lyon, France with a commitment to ensure they only produced high-quality medicines from plants harvested in the French Alps. Obviously, since then they have expanded to become a global company with corporate presences in the United States, Africa, India, Europe, Asia, and Eastern Europe.
One of the aspects I appreciate about Boiron is there line of products for infants and children. We've used their products as a family for years, and life would have been significantly more uncomfortable without things like Chestal, Camilia Teething Tablets, Oscillococcinum Cold Care, and Arnicare Pain Relief. Here we will explore some of these products, their reviews, and how they might benefit your family. Keep in mind, this in no way constitutes health care advice and should not take the place of visiting your physician or pediatrician if you or your child is sick.
Page 35 ~ Fall 2014
CHESTAL COUGH SYRUP
*Appropriate for ages 2-years to adult
Probably the most significant aspect of this medication is the fact that it does not contain any of the ingredients recently questioned by the U.S. Food and Drug Administrations for use in little ones. There are no known side effects (including drowsiness), nor risk of drug interactions or overdose if used in conjunction with other cold medication, yet it soothes dry, irritated throats while making coughs more productive. The goal of a good cough syrup is to make the cough productive while not weakening the person, so what Chestal's homeopathic medicines do is loosen chest congestion and thinning the bronchial secretions so that it makes the cough more productive with less work allowing the person to expectorate.
What we've especially liked is that it tastes good and works so the little ones don't fight us when we feel like it's time to give them the medicine and they experience quick relief. While the medicine itself doesn't make them drowsy, since they are soothed, they are more ready for sleep and certainly sleep better than with other options we've tried. One thing to note is that it's definitely not appropriate for children under one because the main ingredient is honey and they should not have honey period.
When surveying various websites, the average review was 4.5 stars with very positive comments!
CAMILIA TEETHING RELIEF
* Infant and up
Teething is tough, on everyone. I remember being a young mother and my grandmother (who raised 6 children) telling me to get out the whiskey, rub a little on the gums and then you take a sip... One of you would sleep through it! In truth, this isn't bad advice when I started looking at all the chemicals found in teething gels and I hated the idea of putting all that in my baby. Whiskey was looking like a much better, more natural solution. Frankly, it's what most parents used for hundreds of years because it's not like you were going to get your little one drunk on the minute amount of alcohol that you would rub on the gums to numb them.
However, let's be honest, people start to freak a bit when you mention bourbon and babies in the same sentence, so finding a natural alternative was becoming paramount. I had tried several natural remedies with varying degrees of success, but when I found Camilia, I found what I had hoped to find – relief for baby and me without troubling side effects.
Camilia does two things – soothes the gums and reduces swelling associated with teething while also relieveing tummy upset and the minor digestive issues that are often due to teething. It was voted as a best new product by pharmacists in France in 2004 after its launch. Each dose is an individually packaged liquid that is absorbed sublingually into the bloodstream, which also means it acts quicker than something that has to go through the digestive system.
Page 36 ~ Fall 2014
ARNICARE
* For anyone
This is one product I rarely leave home without! Seriously. When our boys were younger and playing sports all year long, Arnicare was in my bag at all times. The kids called it “The Magic Goo” (mostly because it looks disturbingly like snot!), but if they got hit by a pitch or banged up on the football field, they came looking for it right quick. Arnicare comes in several different forms – creams, gels, or homeopathic tablets that you take under the tongue – so you can choose how you prefer to use it. The best part is that the topicals are odorless and non-sticky, yet relieve muscle aches, bruising, stiffness, and swelling.
Arnica, also known as Arnica Montana or the Mountain Daisy, is a perennial plant found in the northwestern United States and central Europe. It has been used for centuries as a natural pain reliever, although caution should be practiced if the skin is red, irritated, or broken as this is meant to be absorbed through the skin and if placed on skin that is broken or irritated could cause additional problems to that area. If you feel you need a more systemic approach, try the pellets in conjunction with the gel or cream.
OSCILLOCOCCINUM
* Safe for 2-years to adult
* Pronounced either “O-sill-o-kahks-see-num” OR “OH-sill-oh-cox-see-num” (or if you're my oldest son, “Oh-so-silly-coconuts” - don't ask me, but it seems to work for him when he asks the pharmacist!)
Page 37 ~ Fall 2014
We love love love this stuff! Especially this past holiday season when we all came down with the flu for the first time in years and mine was compounded with a relapse in pneumonia, so I also had to be on super evil antibiotics that made me almost as sick as the pneumonia did! We gave Oscillo to our littlest guy (3-years old) all the way up to my mother (63-years old) and everyone in between.
This year the media is stating that the flu shot is not as effective as it has been in years past, so it could be a particularly nasty flu season. Speaking from our experience, the high fever, nasty cough, body aches, and chills were enough to make us all rather wish for death at least once. It was bad bad stuff, because we're generally a pretty happy crew. However, we went and got the family pack (30 doses!) and took it religiously at the first signs of being sick and none of us were truly symptomatic for more than about 2 days (except me, but there was the pneumonia to consider there, too).
Oscillococcinum has been on the French market for more than 75 years and just recently won the PTPA seal for North America (“Parent Tested, Parent Approved”). PTPA Media is North America's largest volunteer parenting testing community and to be awarded the seal, the product must be evaluated by independent parent volunteers. Additionally, clinical studies have shown the Oscillo helps reduce the severity and the duration of flu-like symptoms when taken within 24 hours of the onset of symptoms with nearly 63% showing “clear improvement” or “clear resolution” within 24 hours.
Since it doesn't cause drowsiness or interact with other medications or supplements, it's considered safe to use by just about everyone from 2-year olds to seniors. The pellets dissolve instantly under the tongue, making them very user friendly even for the most resistant child.
Page 38 ~ Fall 2014
Page 39 ~ Fall 2014
Page 40 ~ Fall 2014
Page 41 ~ Fall 2014
Page 42 ~ Fall 2014
Page 43 ~ Fall 2014
Page 44 ~ Fall 2014
I bet you’ve
seen the
magazines
or DIY programs
featuring big,
glossy spreads
of farm
kitchens. Shiny
appliances in airy
rooms, big windows
with acres of granite countertops just
itching to be the catalyst for meals prepared
with garden-fresh produce to delight the
palette. You could easily fit 10 people
around the island and dozens of dishes in
the deep, trough sink.
This is not what makes a farm kitchen.
The dingy white house on the gentle knoll
was nothing special to look at. It was like so
many small farms homes in northern
Indiana, gently dilapidated and lovingly
ignored. Every summer the crunch of tires
on this long gravel drive signaled the
beginning of culinary delights. It was a place
where maple basted hams, butter steamed
snow peas, and Polish fried zucchini were
regularly turned out. Meals fit for any
holiday feast laden the table. Many times,
food would be placed out at lunch and then
snacked on by every passerby throughout
the rest of the day.
But it was not a socially acceptable farm
kitchen.
My grandparent’s home lay on seven acres
of fertile soil, but with only about four acres
of it for their “garden.” My grandfather
would have my sister and I go out to help
him pick blueberries, snow peas, beans,
tomatoes and my grandparents would,
together, create scents and textures that we
couldn’t help but scarf down at every
opportunity. We would sit on the floor in
the living room watching cartoons or game
shows with a giant pot of buttered snow
peas and pop them in our waiting mouths
like other kids would popcorn. We didn’t
know then, being kids and on our own
Page 45 ~ Fall 2014
planets, that having a grandfather that could
cook as well as their grandmother was
unusual, but he could work magic in the
kitchen.
It was a real farm kitchen.
Even as a small child, I could stand in the
center of the peeling linoleum and reach my
arms out to touch my finger tips to each
counter. Those great big sinks in pictures? This
sink was so shallow you wouldn’t worry about
drowning a baby if you had to step aside for a
moment. There was a little jut at the back
door that held what we called the ‘breakfast
area,’ which is the hoity-toity way of saying
that’s where they shoved a two-seat diner
style table to give them extra work room and
a place to eat if they chose. It was at this table
where my Polish grandmother would carefully
bread her fresh zucchini with
unpronounceable names before she would
place them in the sizzling pan to fry up. She
would pull them out and we would dip them
while they were still scalding our fingertips
and munch down before we could even close
our mouths since they were so hot they took
the breath away.
The counter was cracked Corian and the space
so limited that if there were more than three
people in there they would be living in sin.
The shelves were packed with home-canned
goods and cooling blueberry pies. The
incongruities of the abundance in the kitchen
and the lack of communication were
profound. While my grandfather could cook
and farm, he couldn’t relate to us. While my
grandmother was a gentle soul with a heart
that none could compare, she couldn’t soothe
the hurts that his emotional distance caused.
But they could feed us and make every meal a
memory.
They are both gone. Many years have passed
since first my grandmother and, not even two
years later, my grandfather died. But when I
think of a farm kitchen I don’t see pretty
rooms with shiny things. It is a dark galley
with two stingy windows that is my
benchmark for greatness. A kitchen isn’t a
place - it is a heart where people share
intimacies and pains, where the soul should
be fed at least as much as the belly. That is my
farm kitchen.
Page 46 ~ Fall 2014
Page 47 ~ Fall 2014
Page 48 ~ Fall 2014
Page 49 ~ Fall 2014
M ore than 23
years ago
the little pink
plus sign
changed my life. I was
not quite 19, unmarried,
living at home, and
completely overwhelmed
by the notion that my
single excursion into the
land of physical
relationships was going
to affect me for the rest of
my life. At that time in
society, however, the
growing commonality of
teen pregnancies during
the late 80s and early
90s, which was the only
time in our history that
the statistics went up
since they started
tracking back in the 50s, I
was one of those girls
who got knocked up and
would be forever known
as a ‘teen mom’.
Page 50 ~ Fall 2014
They still don’t know why there were so many girls who got pregnant before they were
20 in those about 6 years. No one has ever been able to explain what was happening
in the microcosm of teenage social and sexual development. To this day, I have no
idea either, but I can tell you that my best friend and I had our first babies two weeks
apart and we weren’t the only ones. I can also tell you that we were the lucky ones.
We had families who loved us and supported us and didn’t kick us out for getting
pregnant.
Unfortunately, the opposite was the norm back then.
While there wasn’t the extreme shame as there was in years past where girls would
be shipped off to have their babies in secret and then forced to give them up for
adoption or pass them off as their mother’s, it was still socially unacceptable and
many girls were booted out of their homes by outraged parents who had no desire to
be associated with someone who “slept around”.
My parents, on the other hand, not only let me stay, but encouraged me to not marry
until after the baby, which was the best advice I’ve ever been given since we broke up
before I was even half way through my
pregnancy. And he was gone for good before
our son was 6-months old. They suggested I
only work part-time so that I could be more of
a parent than not and supported my effort
(albeit failed effort) to go to college.
Regardless, I thrived and made the best of it,
and now I’m watching a new generation of
young women faced with many of the same
challenges and obstacles that I had to
overcome.
But with some significant differences.
WHO’S YOUR DADDY
These girls are making active, purposeful
decisions to not only acknowledge the
fathers, but hold them accountable. The
relationships themselves may not have
lasted, and to be honest, most of them didn’t,
Page 51 ~ Fall 2014
but they have sued for child support and most insist that they co-parent unless there
are reasons to distrust the fathers. In those cases they still insist on financial support
with the caveat that all visitation be supervised in some manner. They aren’t willing to
take all the blame or all the responsibility the way my generation did.
PRE-NATAL CARE IS A PRIORITY
One of the reasons my parents
didn’t want me to get married is
that I was still covered on their
health insurance and the baby
was, too. In recent years, that
has changed, where the
underage mother is covered,
but the baby is not. These girls
are recognizing the need to
care for themselves and their
babies from the get-go. They
are applying for Medicaid if they
need to so that they can
receive the care necessary to
ensure a healthy pregnancy and baby.
My niece was 15 when she got pregnant and we were (justifiably) worried given her
past behavior and the choices she had made that led to the pregnancy. But, when she
discovered that she was, indeed, expecting, her universe realigned itself. All of a
sudden it wasn’t about her any more, it was about something, someone, bigger, or
smaller as the case may be. She quit smoking, she stopped getting high, she went to
her doctor’s appointments with an almost religious fervor. She recognized the
necessity of proper care for herself and her baby in ways that most of the single
moms I knew way back when did not understand.
AND BABY MAKES THREE OR FOUR OR FIVE OR…
Unlike when my friend and I were accepted into our own homes when that was the
exception, it is now more the rule that these young women and their babies either stay
with their parents or move into the fathers’ parents’ home. No one expects them to be
able to support themselves, and their babies, in such a way that is safe or nurturing.
Page 52 ~ Fall 2014
This is a good thing because they need to be able to finish growing up before they are
faced with the full implications of parenthood and adulthood. Many of them are still in
high school or barely graduated like I was. Their life experience is limited and they are
often only qualified for minimum wage jobs which is not enough to be fully
independent, which only puts them at greater risk of being dependent on government
assistance.
I would like to think that it is better for our society when we take care of our own rather
than expect them to get on the public roles. It is nice to have a safety net, but if we
help those who need it ourselves, it often gives them the better opportunity and, more
importantly, the confidence to go out into the world and support themselves. It is about
relationships above the hardships.
And for girls who are not fortunate enough to have families who will help them, the
resources are so much more available with programs designed to let them live there,
job training, parenting classes, and regular classes to help them keep moving
forward. They can continue to live there even after the baby is born. Those kinds of
programs were few and far between when I was eighteen.
DIPLOMAS MATTER
I was lucky, or smart,
or whatever, to have
already graduated
high school when I
faced motherhood, but
many, if not most, girls
weren’t that lucky/
smart/whatever then.
We had a school
where they could go,
but getting there was a
near impossibility and
the stigma attached
was tremendous. Not
that they didn’t, but it
was a chore that few
could overcome.
Page 53 ~ Fall 2014
Girls now have so many better options and are choosing to take advantage of them,
which is the key. Resources don’t matter unless they are used. And they are using
their options for public online school, working with their neighborhood school to
continue their education, or even pursuing their GED which is just as effective as a
regular diploma. ‘How’ doesn’t change ‘what’ as far as they are concerned as long as
it gets done.
And it’s not just high school, more are going to college, too - 1.9 million parents in
college are single parents. While many traditional colleges are still slow to catch up
with the times with classes and times still geared toward kids who have no other
responsibilities, many campuses not only offer discounted or free childcare for infants
through pre-school, but are adding more night and online classes to their schedules
for those who can’t attend during the day. There is still a lot of room for improvement,
but these young women are going to college online or enrolling in trade school
programs regardless of how traditional colleges and universities function.
HAVING IT ALL
These girls are the granddaughters of the women who rocked through the 70s and
80s as the women who wanted it all – children and career. They are the daughters of
the women who faced the largest generation of single, teen motherhood since before
the Baby Boom. They are benefiting from these experiences in that they understand
that no one else is responsible for them except themselves.
Teen moms are still at the greatest risk of poverty and unemployment, among other
things, but more are viewing the situation they are in as a temporary set-back, not the
end of the world. If they are the children of parents who value education and hard-
work, they are more likely to continue on that path regardless of their new
responsibilities. Or maybe because of their new responsibilities.
Going back to my niece, she hasn’t finished high school yet, but she has been
working full-time since her son was a year old. She still lives with her mom and they
share the house and bills. She is looking seriously at medical technician school now
that her little guy started first grade this year. She still has a tough road ahead of her,
and she knows it. She needs to get that diploma. She needs to get accepted into
school. She needs to make sure she is still balancing life with her super intelligent
boy, work, school, and personal life. But once she set her mind to do something and
do it right, she did amazing. And I know she will continue to be amazing with these
next steps, too.
Page 54 ~ Fall 2014
How Sleep’n Sync is Revolutionary
Mission
To help children excel when facing challenges and improve their functional skills and their wellbeing
Sleep’n Sync’s objective is to help the child achieve their goals fast. It does this through an audio designed to help the
child with the specific issue being addressed, which is played at night, as the child sleeps, every day for six weeks. Sleep’n Sync uses the power of the mind and empowers the natural motivation in children to do well. It does this by integrating to the audio positive suggestions and messages that reach the subconscious mind of the child at a highly receptive state: sleep. Non-Invasive
Non-confrontational: with Sleep’n Sync there is no need for negotiating or convincing the child to do the program every day, no need to use their valuable fun time for it.
Easy to use: the program’s implementation does not affect your child’s schedule, it is at night during sleep time, no need to set time from the child’s busy day for this. Program the alarm with Sleep’n Sync’s audio at a time the child is asleep, and set it to repeat every night.
Based on extensive scientific research and best practices: each Program is designed based on extensive scientific research and best practices, so that the messages and recommendations contained in the program are effective and to the point of the specific goal of the program.
Sleep’n Sync uses: Principles of hypnotherapy by designing the necessary messages the child needs in the form
of positive suggestions tailored to be easily absorbed by the subconscious mind of the child.
Page 55 ~ Fall 2014
Sleep, as it provides a highly receptive state of the subconscious mind. The subconscious mind is always awake and receptive, however this receptivity is increased when the conscious mind does not interfere/ is resting/cooled down, as it occurs during sleep. In addition, sleep is a time when the outside input is minimized, and the information received during the awake time is sorted, organized, evaluated, linked with other memories, and stored or discarded according to its relevance. Sleep’n Sync takes advantage of sleep as a natural receptive state for its messages to effectively be absorbed by the subconscious mind, and the natural function of sleep in building and solidifying brain connections, and its natural role as self-therapy since it processes and links negative feelings and experiences with positive feelings and previous experiences, diminishing their overall negative effect (Rock )
Neuroplasticity: which is the changing of the strength of neural connections, the adding or removing of connections or the adding of new cells. Thinking, learning and acting actually changes the structure and functional organization of the brain.(Christiansen & Baum, 2005).
Principles of neuroplasticity: The brains ability to act and react is ever-changing. It is constantly laying down new pathways for neural communication and to re-arrange existing ones. The changing of neurons, the organization of their networks, and their function changes via new experiences
Repetition: It is well known that repetition wires the brain. It is repetition that allows a person’s brain to esptablish the necessary connections or synapses between the brain cells. Learning occurs right where neurons meet. Without these connections, the brain cells are useless. It is known that what wires a person’s brain is repeated experience, and without it, key synapses do not form. And if such connections, once formed are used too seldom to be strengthened and reinforced, the brain eventually elliminates them. Therefore, repetition of the desired messages in the suggestions in Sleep’n Sync audios is a key element for the effectiveness of the message incorporation into the subconscious mind of the child.
Binaural Beats in the background music: Optional. Binaural beats work by sending two different tones to each ear. The frequency difference between the tones is created by the brain as a “binaural beat”. With this technology, one can take the mind into a relaxed and receptive state, allowing easier connections between the brain cells. This is optional since sleep is already a receptive state for the messages to be absorbed, however its use can help.
Connecting the subconscious mind with the conscious mind: This is what Sleep’n Sync’s audios facilitate, so that when the child is awake, he/she has the self confidence, skills and tools to use in order to get his/her desired goals.
Page 56 ~ Fall 2014
Page 57 ~ Fall 2014
Page 58 ~ Fall 2014
F amilies today come in all shapes and sizes. From the
couple just starting out, to blended families, single
parents, and everything in between, the definition of
‘family’ isn’t as cookie-cutter as it may have seemed half a
century ago. Today, families are grown through natural
pregnancies, medical procedures, surrogate, foster care,
international and domestic adoption. Each family’s relationship is
as unique as a finger print.
Life often teaches us that good things often come from bad situations.
In the case of adoption, often the best things come from what might be seen as the worst situations.
Adoption isn’t most people’s “plan a” when it comes to family building. Often, those choosing to build their
families through adoption have had some challenges in life that lead them to that path. Maybe it was
infertility. Maybe they are building a family later in life. Maybe they are a same sex couple looking to grow
their families, or a single adult looking
to start a family on their own.
Often, for children placed for
adoption, the pregnancies are
unplanned, or parents who
couldn’t continue to raise them for
a vast array of reasons. A few are
actual orphans, with nowhere left to turn.
“What’s it like being adopted?”
There are certain labels in life that stick with us forever. Sometimes, they are merely descriptive, such as
“tall” or “short”. Some show our relation to others, such as “mother”, “father”, “brother”, “sister”, or
“friend.” Some labels we outgrow, like “kid” or “teenager’. But there are some that stick.
A few of the common labels used to describe me have been: tall (I stand about 5’8”, which is considered
relatively tall for a woman), blond, blue eyed, brown, confident, sister, daughter, and, oh yeah, adopted.
I came to my parents via the California State Department of Child Welfare. My biological mother was a 16
year old girl who had sworn that she’d been raped. Hiding her pregnancy for as long as possible (and
My journey as an adoptee is just one of many.
Page 59 ~ Fall 2014
probably doing everything a scared 15 year old girl could do to be quietly rid of me) the problem of me
eventually became unavoidable. I wasn’t disappearing . When her mother (a single parent of three girls)
became aware of the situation, I was put up for adoption.
Before my cells had even started dividing, my parents (an infertile couple who had already adopted a baby
boy in 1976) filed for to adopt me. After being matched with my brother, they already knew they wanted a
baby girl. The order for a Caucasian infant girl was tough to fill. While many couples wait 9 months for their
child to be born, my parents waited about 4 years.
I was born on January 16th, 1980 and entered into foster care that same day. I was brought home by my
parents in April or May, and my adoption became official in October of that same year. I spent the time in
between in foster care. For those few months, a selfless couple cared for me, despite my ‘risk factors’.
According to doctor’s reports, I was a disturbing shade of blue when I was born. After some quick infant CPR,
I was breathing and giving my fresh lungs a work out. Since my biological mother had attempted to keep her
pregnancy a secret, she didn’t get regular prenatal care, so whether I would thrive or not remained to be
seen. But one thing was as true then as it is now,. Like so many other adoptees, I’m a survivor. Though
classified as a ‘high risk’ adoption due to possible yet-to-be-seen developmental delays, I survived my rocky
start into the world.
About a week after
my birth (and
immediate
subsequent
relinquishment into
foster care), my
foster family (who had
named me Virginia) was kind enough to take two photos of me and send them to my social worker. These
photos were eventually passed on to my eagerly awaiting parents – the people who would pledge to bring
me, a stranger, into their lives and call me ‘family’ – people who would give me the title ‘daughter’ and
‘sister’.
Little did my foster family know, those two grainy photos would be my first baby pictures.
A few months later, the paperwork was filed and I was taken home, with the adoption finalized later that
year.
My brother and I were lucky. We each went through only one foster home (which we were too young to
remember) before finding our forever families.
So many children in foster care aren’t so fortunate. Many see several foster homes before their second
birthdays. Still others are only in foster care temporarily while the adults work through whatever issues are
My journey as an adoptee is just one of many.
Page 60 ~ Fall 2014
keeping them from safely being a family. Unfortunately, those considered ‘legally free’ (whose rights have
been revoked or given up by their biological parents) by toddler hood and older are often considered
‘difficult’ to place. The older a child is when he/she enters the foster system, the lower the chance of being
adopted.
Closed or Open – What’s the
difference
A Closed Adoption refers to an adoption
where the contact information of the
biological parents is not disclosed to the
adoptive family and the adoptive family has
no further contact with the biological parent
once the adoption is finalized.
An Open Adoption refers to an adoption
where some form of contact agreement is
established between the biological family
and the adoptive family/child. This
agreement could be something more one-
sided (such as pictures exchanged through a
web site or a social worker), or it could
include visitation and open communication
on all sides.
Usually, Family Medical history is disclosed
either when, whenever available.
As was common practice in the 70’s and 80’s, all the adoptions in my family were closed adoptions. Once I
turned 18, I had the full support of my parents in finding my biological family. – a search which lasted a year
and a half. I located my social worker, who contacted my biological mother’s last known address. Eventually,
my biological mother consented to contact me. We exchanged a handful of letters and met face to face
twice. That’s when I learned that I was in fact not the product of an act of violence, but rather a product of a
night of passion with an older boy. Turns out, she even had the last known phone number. As luck would
have it, 20 years later, my biological grandfather still lived at that phone number. He was able to contact my
biological father, and we became friends.
My brother has yet to locate his biological family. His journey is just beginning. What little we know came in
the form of a story that his biological mother left with the social worker (a common practice back then).
Page 61 ~ Fall 2014
Which is better?
There are some that say open adoption is the way to go. Usually, the school of thought behind that is
something along the lines of, ‘It will keep them from fantasizing and idealizing their biological parents,’ or
“No child can have too much love in their life.’ I had a closed adoption and yes, I often wondered what my
biological family was like. I don’t believe that impeded me from bonding with my adoptive family though.
From where I sit, I can see where an open adoption might be the way to go for perhaps an older foster child
who still desires some relationship with their biological family. I can also see where a limited open
relationship (such as sharing pictures through a mediator) could be especially helpful and reassuring to the
biological family – to know their child is safe and well. I can also see who it would be confusing but, just as
each family is unique, I’d encourage anyone considering adoption to look over all of these options and
settling on the one that feels most right for their situation.
Speaking of Bonding…
Did You Have any
trouble Bonding with
your parents or vice
versa?
This is probably the number 1 fear
most adoptive parents have. ‘Will I
bond with my child? Will my child
bond with me?’ The media
generally doesn’t help dispel this
notion at all either. The news
seems always ready to report about a mismatched family, unable to bond, and the destruction it causes.
But more often than not, bonding happens. Not always instantly. Not overnight. But it happens.
For my parents, we were their children. We weren’t their ‘adopted’ children. We were just their son and
daughter, and that’s where the sentence ended. They never hid the fact that we were adopted. (Even if they
hadn’t we don’t resemble our parents physically much at all, despite sharing a basically similar skin tone.)
By sharing age-appropriate books with us, we learned what adoption ment.
Still, it was hard to learn to trust the world around us.
After all, our very first experience of the world was one of instinctive abandonment. For many adoptees,
that initial abandonment colors the glasses we see the world through.
Page 62 ~ Fall 2014
There were times we struggled more than others, but love and commitment saw us through those times. My
parents never waivered in their commitment to us as a family. That example made it easier for us to find our
roles in the family and to learn to trust.
Learning to trust is no small feat. It takes patience, consistency, understanding, and commitment on the
parents’ behalf.
Any tips for
those who
are having
trouble
bonding?
Three things – Find
Common Ground,
Create Traditions,
and Keep your Word
The first two tips go
hand in hand. I truly
believe our parents
did right – and I don’t
think they learned them in a classroom. They built little traditions into our lives. For example, we ate dinner
at the table every night, except for Friday nights. On Friday, we’d get to eat in front of the TV and watch a
few family-favorite shows together. (In our house, that ment Star Trek most of the time.) We also went to
local musical theater events every summer. By building little routines into our weeks, seasons, and holidays,
we had things to constantly look forward to. This created a sense of stability, even though my father traveled
for business often during my lifetime. No matter who was home, I knew I could count on Friday night fun.
These things created a balance for us that helped us find common ground, or build it when it wasn’t readily
available.
Keeping your word is harder than it sounds. Often we say, “later” when we really mean “no”. It sounds so
simple, but it’s those tiny easy little white lies we tell each other in an effort to avoid disappointment or
conflict that feed the seeds of mistrust. It’s cliché, but honesty really is the best policy. Deal with conflicts as
they arise. It’s always better to deal with disappointment than add fuel to the ‘adults can’t be trusted’ fire
that abandonment often seeds.
Page 63 ~ Fall 2014
How do you feel about your
adoptive family?
They are my parents. They saw me through my hard
grade school years, supported me when I needed it,
and taught me just about everything I know. I feel
nothing but love for them (and my brother). I know I
may not have been their ‘plan a’, but it’s clear that
being adopted really was the best way for me to grow
up. Rather than one parent who was very young and
didn’t really desire kids anyway, I got two parents
who were hungry to add a daughter to their family.
My parents have been a great example of love and
commitment to me. When my dad passed away this
passed April, any shadow of doubt that may have
been lingering in my mind were completely gone. We
are a family. While some are made by blood, it’s love
that truly binds us together. And that we have in
spades.
How do you feel about your
biological family? Are you upset with them for placing you for
adoption? How is your relationship with them now?
Even though I was told early on my birth story, there were definitely times when I was angry with the
situation. How could someone that loves you, give you away to strangers? But once I became an adult, I
understood. Child rearing is a LOT of work. It’s a 24 hour a day, 365 day a year job. And it’s a job my
biological family wasn’t ready for. But it was a job my adoptive family was ready for.
My biological father and I are friends. He has a daughter who is about 23 years younger than me. Explaining
my adoption out to her has been interesting (and a task I leave up to her dad entirely), but it’s fun to be
able to be a part of her life. I basically play the role of an Aunt, more than a big sister.
My biological mother and I exchange letters and pictures through her mother a few times a year. We’re all
comfortable with that level of contact, so it works well for us.
It’s a complicated ever-evolving situation, but I’m lucky to have my family’s full support on whatever
choices I make in these matters.
Page 64 ~ Fall 2014
Becoming an
Adoptive Parent –
Tips for Survival
1) Pack your patience. This is one big waiting game.
The road to parenthood through adopting/foster isn’t a quick one. While things
have become a bit faster than when my family
was adopting me and my brother in the 1970’s, to
someone hungry to grow their family, they can
still feel agonizingly slow. My husband and I
started our adoption journey in June of 2012. It’s
been one year and we have yet to complete the
second step of our journey – the home study
process. No matter what route of adoption you
plan to take, or if you plan to become a foster
parent, you must have a ‘home study’ approved
by the state. The requirements for a ‘home study’
are different in every state. In many states, many
of the classes required can be done online, as can
a lot of the paperwork. However, you’ll have to
Page 65 ~ Fall 2014
check with your state to see what’s required. In our state, we’re required to take
over 20 hours of in-classroom training classes. This has become a huge problem
for us because my husband is in the US Navy. Due to deployments and such, his
schedule is very unpredictable. I’m prepared to be the chief care-giver, however
the state requires we both take the courses. No doubt it would be beneficial for us
both to attend – and the desire is there! However, his schedule has not allowed
for days off which coincide with the dates of the seminars. But we’re hopeful.
2) Don’t be afraid to tell people you’re adopting/fostering
once you start the process to become a parent.
Support can come from really surprising places. My husband was nervous about
telling people about the adoption at first, but quickly found out that it was very
rare for people to have any disparaging remarks. Most people are genuinely
curious and excited to see where the journey leads. In fact, seeking out other
people who have been through the process already might prove very reassuring.
3) The more specific
your requests, the
longer the wait.
This is generally true. My
parents had very specific
requests (infants, boy, then
girl, Caucasian), which is
likely one of the reasons the
wait was so long (and one of
the reasons they grabbed me
even though I was
considered a risk).
Page 66 ~ Fall 2014
4) Respect the journey, both yours and your partner’s (if
applicable). It’s very common for adoptive mothers and fathers to have two
different experiences, just like with pregnancy. Women tend to undergo what’s
called a ‘paper pregnancy’, from the first moment they dedicate themselves to an
adoption. Nesting sets in, as does a lot of dreaming and talk about kids. Men are
often on the other end of the spectrum, enjoying the fleeting days of life without
kids while they can. It’s been said, ‘Women become mothers at the desire for
motherhood; men become fathers when they first hold their children.’ This can be
very true with adoption as well. Women often report feeling a connection with a
baby at just the glimpse of a picture. Men need to have that child in their arms
before they feel the fatherly glow. Talking often and respecting that your partner is
in it with you, but on his/her own unique journey can help communication flowing
during this stressful time.
5) Take care of yourself while you wait.
Page 67 ~ Fall 2014
When we first started the adoption process, I was afraid to plan a vacation or
spend a dime on something we didn’t need because we might be called upon to
throw a large sum of money down to complete it. (My brother and I cost a grand
total of $1000 to adopt in the 1970’s. Today’s adoptions are much more
expensive, with an approved home study alone running about $1500.) It’s so easy
to let your life revolve around the adoption.
This is truly is a marathon, not a sprint. We need to take care of ourselves along
the way. For me, that means making sure I work on developing healthy habits in
all aspects of my life so that
they can rub off on our next
generation, when the time
comes. Part of staying
healthy is knowing when to
take a break, a short
vacation, a night out on the
town, whatever it may be
to keep myself and my
relationship healthy.
6) Be realistic. This
is a child. Not a
Cause.
One thing that drove my
parents nuts is that people were often saying how ‘generous’ they were to take in
two unwanted kids. While, yes, they have very generous spirits, it’s not exactly like
we showed up on their doorstep as rain-drenched puppies seeking a new home
from anyone who would open up their door and give us a bed. They simply
wanted a family – and after infertility treatments failed, this was the means to get
Page 68 ~ Fall 2014
it. Adopting or fostering (especially traumatized) children doesn’t mean you’ll be
able to ever erase anything that was done to them. Love, while healing, is not a
‘reset’ button. It means you’ll be helping them learn to cope with their situation
(whatever that may be). Each situation is as unique as the child, and requires
different skills. For example, the danger in our household will be this- ‘I know how
you feel because I was adopted too.’ Truth be told, I might have some insight into
how our kids might be feeling, but then again – I might be way off base.
7) Where there is a will, there is a way.
Think adoption is too expensive? Consider foster-to-adopt programs. If one
agency seems too expensive, interview other ones. Don’t feel comfortable with
Foster-to-adopt? Consider private adoption agencies or legal firms. Adoption fees
aren’t inexpensive, but that doesn’t mean it’s completely out of reach. The
internet has a myriad of ways to raise funds. Seek out grants or fund raising
websites. Check into tax deductions that might help off-set the costs. Family and
friends might even be willing to help out as well.
8) Celebrate
every small
victory. Did you just finish
interviewing an
adoption agency or
going to an
informational
meeting? Celebrate
it! Celebrate each piece of paper you turn in. It may seem small, but these little
things feed hope. All of them can bring your one step closer.
Page 69 ~ Fall 2014
Page 70 ~ Fall 2014
Page 71 ~ Fall 2014
Page 72 ~ Fall 2014
Page 73 ~ Fall 2014
Page 74 ~ Fall 2014
Page 75 ~ Fall 2014
Page 76 ~ Fall 2014
Page 77 ~ Fall 2014
Page 78 ~ Fall 2014
Page 79 ~ Fall 2014
Page 80 ~ Fall 2014
By Alice Tetamore
EMILY DANCES
Top Related