momafterthestorm

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Jan. 2018 to Jan. 2022

on February 07, 2022

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best fit.

If you like bulleted note-versions of thoughts, scroll on. If you want verbosity, I’m your gal. This is a response to some of the divisiveness that is permeating our feeds of late. Buckle up? Our world has myriad educational options. Homeschool, public charters, public non-charters, micros, macros, un-schools, private Christian, private non-Christian, and I’m sure we’ve got some partridges teaching in some pear trees somewhere. Pretty cool thing is that we now have so many choices. Funding aside – that’s a writing for another day – parents now have the beautiful option to decide what they want for their families in ways that haven’t been available before. This post,...

7.5 on the family scale.

freshie me, first few days home. 1974 Until 2022, I'd had 48 years of knowing someone gave birth to me somewhere, not quite understanding the gravity of that situation, and loving her anyway. 48 years of vitriol in the forms of: "but she gave you up," "you must not have been wanted," or "what kind of person has a kid and gives it away?" Third grade, the note passed in class that said "That's why her mom gave her away- she didn't love her..." 48 years of "Do you have any medical history of x, y, or z? No, I have no idea, I'm adopted..." Then, praise God, in 2022, I found her. My OG mama. She loves me - always has... And, she has a story. She has a perspective vastly different from mine or from anyone else's - anyone who's been through adoption or anyone who hasn't. ...

860. revised.

**June 2025 update (first draft is below): Maureen and I are still going strong. Well, maybe not strong- that's probably not the right word. Life, age, loss... we've been hit by all of that. Our love for each other, though, THAT's strong. That's constant. That's her, to me. Stalwart, firm, foundational. I just opened facebook a few minutes ago and saw that she had tagged me... apparently today is National Best Friends day or something? Seeing her post slammed me with nostalgia, remembering all the crap we've been through in our 46 years as friends. 46 years. Whoa. Both of our daddies are gone now. Sickness has wreaked havoc on people we love, to the nth degree. Families have shifted, moving and changing, growing, shrinking. Age is - in the words of Truvy Jones- "marching across my face," greying my hair, wrinkling and creping my skin, and I can't skip like Wink and I used to- I'll either hurt something or pee in my pants (having babies'll ...

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Jan. 2018 to Jan. 2022

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