It’s official, the state of California now officially recognizes my husband and I as the adoptive parents of our children!!! In our minds, they’ve been our children since last year, but now it’s official, no one can take them away from us, and that in itself, is a reason to celebrate!
Our court date was given to us; only a few weeks ago and so planning had to happen quickly. It’s amazing how in moments like this; people will drop everything to be there. Almost everyone attending drove between 3-5 hours each way to share our big day with us!
We arrived at the courthouse for our morning appearance, and that in itself, is nerve wracking. Although we left early, somehow we were still pushing it to make it on time. I would use the old excuse, we have kids, but it was our fault since we had to stop for gas. Once we arrived at the courthouse, we had to wait in the morning line to get through the metal detector. I had prepped my kids about what a courthouse was and what a judge looked like, thanks to Google images. I had forgotten about the metal detector however, and as we headed through it I related it to when we go on a airplane, only to realize that we only pick people up at the airport, (so that was a useless comparison), and instead promised them that someday we’d go on a plane. I mean I have the rest of their lives now to take them places! (And I won’t need court permission!)
I had dressed all of us in a matching color and I admit we were dressed up for the occasion, so the nice people at the front were all asking if we were heading to adoptions. Was it that obvious? Apparently people don’t color coordinate for most court hearings.
When we arrived upstairs, we were ushered to the courtroom door by my cousins and their children who had driven four hours that morning to be there to celebrate with us. They brought with them 2 large stuffed animals, easily the size of my children, it was a joke gift to honor my mother who passed away several years ago. The kids were in heaven and nicely distracted from the cold courtroom! The rest of our 19 friends and family were either parking or in line with security but court was getting ready to start and I was getting nervous. My 94 year old grandma had even come for the event, but wasn’t in the room yet. The bailiff began to get the court ready and asked if everyone was here. I told him we were still waiting and to my surprise, he told me to just let him know when everyone arrived. The judge went ahead and heard other cases until everyone with us, made it to the courtroom. It turns out that it was actually great that we waited because by the time the judge got to us, we were the last case for the morning and so he really took his time.
Our entourage was lead back to the judge’s chambers where my husband, and I were told to sit down at his desk. With the kids on our laps, he began by having us swear in, the kids raised their hands too, for fun. The judge began by informing us that our children we ready to be adopted and that it was the court’s job to determine the best adoptive placement for them. The judge had reviewed our case and determined that we were the best placement for our children. Then he went on to begin the signing for each child. He told us that by signing these papers, we agreed to take on all rights and responsibilities for these children. We are to treat them as our birth children and we are expected to give them a good home and they are to receive any inheritance. I wish I had the exact words the judge used, but it was just amazing. The court really took care to choose the words that made sure people understand what they were undertaking and my favorite part was how they were to be treated as if birth children. This does not negate the fact that my children will always have birth parents, which are not my husband and I, but in our minds, we are to treat them as though we brought them into this world.
The wonderful ceremony was followed with a reservation at a local restaurant. The lovely restaurant manager, who I made the reservation with, had found out why were coming and gave us the whole private back room. Hours passed as we ate and visited and made sure to get the kid’s pictures with everyone who came.
It was the perfect peaceful end, to a journey, which at a few points had me unsure of the outcome. And now, after it’s all said and done, my husband and I are getting antsy to adopt again. My daughter has been asking for more siblings, and who can say no to a cute 5 year-old! I’m sure people will ask, why we would want to go through all that trouble again, and I equate it to mom’s who have just given birth. They don’t remember the labor pains they only see the beautiful child they’re holding. There are more children out there who need us to hold them.
Copyright 2012 Courtney Vallejo
As we approach the end of November and prepare for our Thanksgiving feasts, I wanted to take a quick moment to recognize National Adoption Month. This year, my husband and I are most grateful for the gift of adoption in our lives. Many are curious about adoption and what it means and what kinds of kids people end up with, when they adopt. Personally, I can tell you that while the last year has been filled with new experiences and a few roller coasters, I have been given two amazing children who are busy learning their letters, how to dress themselves and preoccupied with finding super letters on Super Why.
There are a few types of adoption. First there are Birth mother adoptions, where the birth mother makes an adoption plan for her child generally while still pregnant. Domestic adoption includes birth mother adoption as well as private adoptions of children from birth families for children residing in the United States. International adoption is adoption of children from other countries who are adopted by US families and brought to the United States once the adoption is complete. There is foster-to-adopt where families adopt children that have been taken into child protective services and placed in foster families while reunification services are offered to the birth parents. If the state determines the children are not safe in the birth parent home, the parental rights are terminated and the child is freed for adoption. Depending on how the state views the relationship between the children and the foster family, the foster family may be given the choice to adopt the children. Generally in foster-to-adopt, the family’s goal when accepting foster children is with the intention is to adopt.
My husband and I chose to go with foster-to-adopt. We used a Foster Family Agency (FFA) but families can also go through their local county foster care system. Our agency acted as a liaison between our family and the different counties. When we started the foster-to-adopt process we were given a packet of information to fill out which included a personal analysis of our backgrounds, our families, our parenting expectations etc. We had to get fingerprinted, obtain DMV driving records, get health physicals, take a CPR-First Aid class, have our home inspected for safety, and attend adoption classes through our FFA. This may sound daunting, but please understand it only took a few months, if that, and we just did a few things at a time. All of this paperwork is done for the children’s benefit. These children have been through enough, and the state wants to make sure they are placed in healthy, safe and loving homes. Many people ask how long the process takes to adopt. Each case is different and each family is different. For us, we started the process, by attending our first FFA meeting around February; we completed the paperwork in August and began receiving profiles immediately. Let me explain profiles – we told our FFA what we were looking for as far as age, gender, race, etc. The county sends profiles of the children who are looking to be placed in foster-to-adopt homes and then the FFA determines which children would match the preferences of their adoptive families. We were sent a variety of profiles to review. If we thought the children might be a good match for us, we asked our FFA to send our home study (a compilation of information about us) to the child’s social worker. If the social worker thought we’d be a good match, they asked to meet with us. We sent a few home studies but didn’t hear back from the social workers. In September our FFA called and told us they think they had found a perfect match. By the 27th of September we had already met with the children’s social worker and we were sitting in a “full disclosure meeting,” where they tell you most of what they know about the children and allow you another chance to decide if this sounds like it would work with your family. Our full disclosure meeting didn’t tell us too much, except the fact that really let me know these were my children! Both my children were born prematurely, so was I! The social worker told me how small my daughter was when she was born, turns out we weighed the exact same amount, down the ounce. YEP, that’s my daughter!
We agreed that these were our children and we met them at the park later that day. I’ve discussed that story before in other blogs, so I’ll skip that this time. We had two, weekend visits, with our children and by the middle of October, our children we’re living with us! The process took about 8 months, not quite the nine months of pregnancy, but close J
It’s been 13 months since and we’re looking forward to getting our finalization date this week. That’s the day that the court system will sign our adoption paperwork and make our children “officially” ours! We will even get an amended birth certificate, listing us as their parents.
Adoption has given my husband and I the gift of children. It was a road with bumps, tears, joy and laughter. If any of you are considering adoption and have any questions about the process, please do not hesitate to email me at email@example.com. Remember I’ve asked a thousand questions, so anything you’re wondering is worth asking J
During this Thanksgiving, please pray for birth parents and as they make decisions to give their children the best lives possible. Please pray for families who have lost the rights to their children and for the wounds that that causes. Finally, please pray for children in the adoption system, that they will grow and prosper throughout their lives.
Happy Thanksgiving! And Happy National Adoption Month!
Copyright 2012 Courtney Vallejo
Fall has seemed to finally arrive! It felt like it happened overnight. In our town on Saturday it was at least 70 degrees and t-shirt weather and then by Monday it was 50 degrees and I was layering my kids in all kinds of winter clothing! The leaves have begun to change color and it’s just another outward sign that there is change all around us.
After being foster parents for exactly one year and 2 days, we have finally singed adoption placement paperwork, which is a fancy word for – we’re ready to set our court date to finalize our adoption! We’re hoping that by the end of the year our children will, in the eyes of the state and the courts, be our children! The strangest part about this whole adventure is that I don’t remember my children not being my children. From the first day I heard about my children from the adoption agency, I had an attachment in my heart to them. I dreamed of them, hoped of them and shopped for them.
The process of preparing for children is a process of expecting a season of change but not really knowing what that season of change will hold. In an odd way, it’s kind of like packing for a vacation to a place you’ve never been. Sure when my husband and I went to Europe, we read travel books, much like expectant parents read “What to expect” books. We checked the weather on the Internet, just like any parent can read about how to raise kids on the Internet. (We even read adoption books on what to expect from foster kids and possible issues through the process.) Nothing however could quite prepared us for getting lost the first time we stepped off the train in Rome. And bigger than that, nothing quite prepared us for the last year and the journey taken. Each child is different and so we’re realized that we can only take advice with a grain of salt and usually it only works on one child while it’s useless with our other. I think one of the funniest parts of parenting is the desire to conquer an issue with your children like potty training or nap schedules, just to come up to the next issue. Children are such quick learners and it seemed like overnight my son became potty trained and only a few occasional accidents remind us of our potty training adventure. But now we’re on to altering nap schedules and learning to behave in preschool. I think I thought once we overcame one battle, that we would be home free, but as parents of older children remind me, it’s only just beginning. So I’ll await the next season of change for my kids. I’m hoping it includes learning letter sounds for my preschooler and writing letter for my pre-k kid. But most importantly I have to make sure to get those sweaters out because I’m attempting to avoid the toddler cold this winter! Feel free to wish me luck, or just laugh at me!
Copyright 2012 Courtney Vallejo
A few weeks ago I had to take my son to Children’s hospital because his pediatrician had found a heart murmur. We’ve had physicals before, but the doctor’s hadn’t heard anything before. I had thought he might have an ear infection, but the nurse ruled that out pretty quickly. She continued checking the rest of his body and after listening to his heart, for a time that is a little longer than is comfortable with a mom – you know those long pauses when you’re standing there wondering if something is wrong, she looked up and asked if I’d ever heard the doctors mention a heart murmur. Thinking back, I had remembered the social worker had told us he was born with one but I didn’t know the extent of it. The nurse called the doctor is and he listened and was rather confused about why he hadn’t heard it before, he said he’d prefer to send us to the local Children’s Hospital for an EKG and an ECHO. These are never words a mother wants to hear. Of course it would take at least a week to get the referral and then who knows how busy the cardiologist is at the hospital. Within a week and half, however, my husband and I were sitting in the waiting room of the heart clinic at the hospital – another place I never wish to return.
My son was taken back to the exam room and put in a little green shirt that tied in the back for easy access during the medical procedures. The shirt made him look like the pictures I’ve seen of children with terminal diseases and my heart ached for those children and their families. The cardiologist came in and checked him and although he looked like he was about to deliver gut wrenching news, he said he thought it was either an innocent murmur, a sound the heart makes that sounds just like a murmur or a murmur that we wouldn’t need to worry about. What a relief, but he still wanted the ECHO ultrasound done. We had to walk our son over to a different office for that procedure. As I walked out into the waiting room to head across the hall, I felt like everyone in the waiting room paused when they saw my son in his little green shirt. No one spoke as they watched him walk. It was a paralyzing moment watching this happen. I just wanted to reassure everyone that he was ok, that he wasn’t sick, but who addresses a group of strangers, and what if their kids really were sick… I chose to say nothing and instead headed to the ultrasound.
As we walked into the room, the ultrasound tech began to explain the process to us. He smiled as he told us this was a regular ultrasound, and he told my son that mommy would remember the first time I had heard his heartbeat at my first ultrasound. It took me a second to realize he was talking about a pregnancy ultrasound and I just laughed, I adopted my children so I never got to hear his heartbeat because I was never pregnant with him. Some adoptive moms are give that opportunity if they know the birth mothers during their pregnancy, but I didn’t know my birth mother. The tech knew how to work with kids and immediately turned on a cartoon so my son would be entertained during the procedure. He would be preoccupied for the next 30 minutes, as we watch only a small amount of TV at home, so he thought this was real treat.
The ultrasound tech began the ultrasound, and I started to notice this muffled sound coming from his machine, it took me a minute, and then I realized I was hearing my son’s heartbeat.
At first I marveled at modern medical technology and the fact that we could even hear a heart beat, let alone watch the blood flow in a out of his heart and then I got a little teary eyed as I realized I was getting my very own ultrasound experience of hearing his heartbeat for the first time. Thanks to the wonderful ultrasound tech for mentioning how it would be just like when I was “pregnant”, although I never got to do that when he was only a few weeks old, I was getting to listen to it today. I will treasure that moment even if it happened when he was 3. What a gift in the midst of a scary time. My son is fine, the doctor told me we don’t even have to follow up, and continued to reassure me that he is fine. Even as I write this, I have to stop and take a deep breath and simply be thankful that he’s healthy.
There was one more gift that came from our visit to the hospital. The show we were watching was one I’d never heard of, it’s called Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood. It’s created by the Fred Rogers organization and is a cartoon spin off of Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood. Each episode has a little theme song that teacher the kids a lesson for the day. The episode we watched was about the parents going on a date and Daniel was left with a babysitter. The song that kept being played said something like – grownups come back! What a great way for kids to learn some important information and have a little jingle to remember it. Last night I watched the pilot episode, which can be downloaded on ITunes for free. (Each subsequent episode is $2.99 – check out PBS for more info on the show as well as it’s airtime) Turns out last night’s song, which my daughter is already singing was about finding the silver lining. “When something seems bad, turn it around and find something good.” Talk about words to live by! Thanks to the ultrasound tech and his comment about the ultrasound, I was able to find something good in our visit to the hospital – getting to hear my son’s heartbeat! That moment was just another gift, in our adoption adventure! Of course there is the obvious good thing – that my son is nice a healthy too!
Copyright 2012 Courtney Vallejo
I’ve only been a mom for 10 months, but somehow, here I was in line with all the other Kindergarten parents getting ready to send my little baby into the great abyss that is school. My husband dropped our son off at the preschool building, before joining me for the “final farewell.” I was in a daze as I worried about whether she was ready for Kindergarten. Would she be academically ready? Would she excel or fall behind? Will she make new friends or will the other students make fun of her? Will her teacher take care of her and watch out for her? Will she remember to ask to go potty and will she know how to open all the containers in her lunch? Will she even eat her lunch? Man, how do you moms do it? All I’ve done for weeks is worry!
The worrying didn’t stop with how she’d be at school – it continued onto apparel choices. Flashback a few days ago – there we were, the day before school started, returning from a weekend camping trip, which I’m sure is against the parent rules for “things you’re not supposed to do the day before school starts,” but at least we were home by 6pm. However on our was home I started to panic (I know it’s a recurring theme), I realized I didn’t buy them some brand new perfectly matched outfit for their first day school. Growing up, it was a tradition, in my house, to stand by the front door or on the staircase and take a picture on the first day of school. Now it was my turn to start that tradition, was I blowing it by not having them wear a new outfit? And school shoes, (don’t get me started), I went to Payless, but nothing fit them because they’re in between sizes. Again, growing up, I always had a new pair of shoes for the first day of school, but I can’t in good conscience, buy them shoes that will either only fit them until next week, or will fall off until they grow again next week. So again, I’m feeling like I let them down.
I went to sleep thinking, where do I drop her off in the morning? I suppose I take her to her classroom but I have to drop my son at the same time, how do I do that?…. The worrying had gotten out of control. I even worried she would sense the worrying and start it herself (a trait I refuse to pass onto her) and so I took a deep breathe, and decided to let the worrying go.
What happened the next morning was a gift! It was probably about 6:20am and I had to go out to the garage to get something. As I walked out of the door I was taken aback by the view that you see from the picture at the top of this post. The sun was just rising and the sunbeams were reaching across the sky. I felt the Lord’s presence as He used His creation to remind me of His control over everything. How could I worry about clothing when the Lord was making the sunrise? I took another deep breath, called my daughter outside and shared the morning sunrise with her. Now that’s a way to start Kindergarten!
After school she came home and told me about how they learned the letter A. She told me that she had asked the teacher to go to the bathroom. She even got to go with another girl in her class. So yes, she asked to go potty and she even made a friend. What I didn’t hear was about how somebody noticed she was wearing last season’s Dora tennis shoe. I didn’t hear about anyone making fun of her and she even ate all her lunch! Her teacher even said she’s right on top of things. And so, as I breathe a sign of relief, I am reminded of Padre Pio’s famous quote – “Pray, Hope and Don’t Worry.” Perhaps my previously mentioned “worrying” needs a little adapting, but I plan on making that my resolution for this school year. My children have dreams and aspirations for what’s ahead of them this year and what they’ll achieve. I am going to worry less and trust more. What’s your spiritual resolution for the upcoming school year?
Copyright 2012 Courtney Vallejo
“You are, I admit in a better state than if you were satisfied with yourself.” – Blessed John Henry Newman
Have any of you ever had a moment when you were disciplining your child and you can hear your own voice and you think to yourself, I sound mean? But worse still, you hear that other voice in your head that says to calm down but you ignore it and keep using “the voice.” You now the voice I’m talking about, the one a teacher uses when he or she is about to send a kid to the principal’s office.
It seems when I start this debate in my head that my frustration only grows, if I continue to use “the voice.” In other words, I don’t feel less frustrated because I yelled at my kids. Instead my adrenaline starts to rise and them, being the young innocent beings that they are, seem to get confused by my attitude and become unsure of what to do next. In my particular case, being an adoptive mother, I worry that in their previous lives, (no I don’t mean the ones where they were a cat and came back as a human, I simply mean that they had a different life before coming to our home), I wonder what punishment came for them after their caregiver started in with “the voice?” I worry that their minds go right back to that moment and they’re more frozen in fear and unable to respond to my instructions, than the fact that they might just be toddlers who don’t want to listen.
So it’s in those moments that I’ve read I need a “mommy time out.” Of course, my time out today came right before I was going to sit outside with my husband and my kids, in our little plastic outdoor pool. So I feel guilty that I’ll miss that time. Then my husband says the was going to fold the laundry and now I feel more guilty for making him do it himself, but I know deep down what my family needs is for me to take a little time out and regroup.
I get overwhelmed with the tasks of the day and I’m already, at 2pm, planning the rest of the day and counting the minutes till my husband leaves for a work meeting. I consider telling myself to suck it up and skip the time out, but luckily, I ignore myself and the guilt, knowing there will be more of that coming later, and instead I find myself in adoration, sitting next to a Magnificat, that someone had left there. I open to today’s meditation and I find a meditation by Blessed John Henry Newman.
He is speaking of our constant battle with serving God, and our own desires, and how sometimes we see a problem in ourselves and we set out to change, we make a plan, and then watch as we fail to follow through and our plan crumbles. Often times, in the end, feeling worse about ourselves and our behaviors than, before we came up with the plan. But he assures us that we are in a “more promising state,” if we are working to better ourselves than we would be if we were always satisfied with ourselves.
So I am left to assume that my time out was well needed and has energized me to return home, hug my kids and my husband and start again with my resolve to stop using “the voice,” or at least count to 10 if I hear it coming.
Now off to do that laundry.
Copyright 2012 Courtney Vallejo
THIS ARTICLE ORIGINALLY APPEARED ON CATHOLICMOM.COM ON JUNE 23, 2012
I’m sitting at the kitchen table, eating a bowl of microwavable strawberry oatmeal and deciding if I should watch The Jane Austin Book Club on Netflix or finally begin blogging. I’m feeling rather proud of myself (clearly with my celebratory oatmeal) that both my children are sound asleep and it’s only 7:30pm, and most importantly, there was a minimal raising of my voice to pull of this accomplishment. My husband is a high school band director and so will be spending his evening conducting the high school band in Pomp and Circumstancefor the high school graduation. And suddenly it hits me that I graduated 14 years ago today, and I’m not sure if I should feel old or proud of whom I’ve become. Perhaps a little of both!
I’ve lived what I like to think has been an exciting life since high school, high school of course not being the most exciting having been raised in a small town, but I remember those times with my friends full of joy and excitement. I remember the way we worried if we were going to get pinned down in that small town or project out into that big world that’s talked about in every graduation speech. Since high school, I’ve graduated from college with a degree in journalism, gone on to earn my Master’s in Film Production, (a bill I’ll be paying until my grandkids graduate from college), had several different jobs along the way, and my path eventually leading me back to school at the age of 27 to pursue my teaching credential. Dropping off the application for the credential, during my lunch break from a teaching job at a small private school I caught myself asking myself as I opened the door to the administration building, WHY THE HECK ARE YOU GOING BACK TO SCHOOL AT 27? I’ll go for the safe answer – God placed the job in my lap. So I dropped off the application and headed back to work and it was at that moment as I was headed back to my classroom, that the Lord graciously sent me confirmation. One of my smartest students, the kind that I think could easily be smarter than me and I was always hoping wouldn’t ask me questions that proved that fact, ran up to me panicked …. “Ms. P, Ms. P, I have a question – was Anne Frank a Nazi?” WHAT I thought… “No, of course not, she was Jewish and was hiding from the Nazis!” I couldn’t believe he didn’t already know that, until I realized that no one had taught him that yet, and that he hadn’t been in my eight grade WWII class. He took a sigh of relief, turned to his friend and said, “See, I told you she’d know.” Those words still linger fondly in my heart. And that’s why I’m a teacher. Now if only I knew it all.
What I don’t seem to quite know is how to raise children, be a loving wife, work part time, keep a clean house and somehow make wonderful homemade dinners with fresh bread and homemade chocolate cake for dessert. How did June Cleaver really cook all those nice family meals and still look so lovely in those fabulous dresses and why doesn’t every meal in my life end with a nice homemade dessert? Sometimes I feel like I would feel better about myself as a person, if only I could make a wonderful dinner each night for my family, cooked only with organic, fresh ingredients, followed with a slice of heaven doused with whip cream, but who has time?
My husband and I are part of the team that does Catholic Engaged Encounter for our diocese. We’ve been in the ministry for about 2 of our 3 married years. We knew we wanted to join right away and we just presented our first weekend of talks for a wonderful group of fiancés who will be heading to the world of marriage any day now. The good news for us as a world, is that they are wonderfully devoted to each other and ready to discuss and learn about their soon to be spouses so as to better honor them. I mention Engaged Encounter as a way to explain another “Oh My ” moment in my life.
We took our kids with us for the weekend, hired a babysitter that we knew to join us, packed almost every toy I think we own, in addition to a bike, an umbrella stroller, a few suitcases and enough snacks to feed a small preschool for a week. On the drive up we turned on the radio and our kids began singing along to their favorite song. No, not the ABC’s or the Itsy Bitsy Spider, while those are among their top favorites, they were singing Matt Maher’s Hold Us Together. My son is 3 and my daughter is 4 and for a mom who hopes to raise her children to be good Catholics, singing Matt Maher at the top of their lungs, felt like a good start! So here comes the “Oh My!” moment …. We were, as God would have it, driving through the town that changed our lives completely, just seven months earlier. Seven months earlier we had driven through this town but with children who were quiet and small and didn’t really speak much, let alone sing songs. My son, just looking like he was in a daze, although always with a smile. My daughter, who was a little more outspoken but still timid and shy, and busy looking out the window at a world she’d never seen before. Seven months earlier, my husband and I met our children, for the first time, at a park where they sat quietly on a bench on either side of their foster mother eating from the same bag of chips. The social worker asked our children if they’d like to meet a new friend. My son didn’t respond and my daughter only after finishing the chips, asked if we’d like to take her to the swings. Most people remember the first moment with their child, being in a delivery room being told “it’s a boy, would you like to hold him?” My first moment with my children will always be on that park bench. I did get to hold my son that day – he didn’t speak much, although he was 2, almost 3 but he did say bike and truck and would point them out to me and giggle. It’s hard to remember those children now. I only envision my two laughing and signing Matt Maher. I hardly remember the day when my son couldn’t carry on a full conversation, complete with 6 word sentences, although sometimes it would be nice if he took a little pause from talking. I can’t remember what it was like when they weren’t running down the halls to hide from my husband as he arrived home from work yelling and giggling “Mommy, tell him we don’t want any.”
My life forever changed seven months ago, so while I celebrate my 14th year since graduating high school, I think for now, I feel most confident that my children are tucked safely in their bunk beds, knowing that when they have a nightmare and yell for me that I will go running into their room to comfort them. Children who used to not even ask for a snack or tell you that they were hungry, but today as my daughter sat on the couch watching Word World, asked if she could have a snack and then informed me, so graciously, that she’d like cheese and crackers. My children will always have 2 families, their biological family and our family. I will always be eternally grateful to the people that gave my children their life. I will not take for granted the precious gift of life. I will try to remember these small victories like getting them both to bed by 7:30pm, but I will await the big victories, like when I sit at their high school graduation, or even their Kindergarten graduations. Those two shy, scared, children no longer exist, only in pictures where I can barley recognize them. My two are too preoccupied thinking about who they’ll play with at preschool tomorrow and how to convince me to take them to the zoo. They’re too busy helping themselves to the cheese sticks that they know are kept in the top drawer in refrigerator, and which my daughter has on occasion, gotten for herself for breakfast when I was taking to long in the morning, don’t tell Mrs. Clever. And most importantly my children will remind me that in the good and not so good times, “Love will hold us together, make us a shelter to weather the storm and I’ll be my brother’s keeper, so the whole world will know that we’re not alone.” (Matt Mather – Hold Us Together)
Copyright 2012 Courtney Vallejo