Is there a reason that my vocal comfort range fits perfectly into this song? Is there a reason that the notes drift from my vocal chords with such ease? Why was this song written? What does it mean? Why is it cutting me to pieces?

I was only a kid
When I said goodbye to you
Ten summers ago
But it feels like yesterday
Lost, scared and alone
Nothing I could give to you
I tried, I really did
But I couldn’t find another way

And I want and I need
Somehow to believe
In the choice I made
Am I better off this way

I can hear the voice inside my head
Saying you should be with me instead
Every time I’m feeling down, I wonder
What would it be like with you around

So I, I made my way
Cold and roaming in the wild
I’m forever changed
By someone I never knew
Now I’ve, I’ve got a place
I’ve got a husband and a child
But I’ll never forget
What I’ve given up in you

And I want, I need
Somehow to believe
In the choice I made
Am I better off this way

I can hear the voice inside my head
Saying you should be with me instead
Every time I’m feeling down, I wonder
What would it be like with you around

And I want, I need
Somehow to believe
In the choice I made
Am I better off this way

-Dixie Chicks, “Voice Inside My Head”

Screw it. I’m downloading the album. And maybe I’ll find the karaoke version. And maybe I’ll sing it one night at karaoke. Or something. But for now, it’s on repeat. For those who don’t understand why, read the lyrics again.

But it feels like yesterday
Lost, scared and alone
Nothing I could give to you
I tried, I really did
But I couldn’t find another way

Freaking a. Knife through my heart. Other lines.

I want, I need, somehow to believe… in the choice that I made. AM I BETTER OFF THIS WAY?

Sigh.

I’m forever changed.

No. No. It’s not a good night. I smell like bleach because I was trying to turn my negative, sad energy into something positive by sitting in the tub and cleaning around the caulking with bleach cleaner and a toothbrush. And the salty residue of tears splashing in the middle of the mess. No, freaking really. My hands are dry and cracked and I smell like bleach. But I have a clean bath tub. Something good came out of tonight’s utter despair.

Place your baby for adoption! Have really clean bath tubs as a result!

(I’ll be fine tomorrow.)

We buy (and borrow from the good ole library) a lot of books concerning diversity even though BigBrother is still very young. It is our goal and wish to expose him to a wide range of cultural issues from a very young age as that’s just who we are as a family, both in heart and the way we are made up sa a family in general. But, I’m stumped.

Books about families often show families of the same race. As explaining our family make up will be an interesting chore in itself since it’s compounded by adoption and distance, if no books are showing that it’s okay, normal and, in fact, cool to have family members with different skin tone, how am I supposed to have further teaching tools to show him that it’s okay?

So, in this thinking aloud segment, I have concluded that not only are books needed for parented children whose parent(s) have placed a sibling (half or whole) and still maintain contact via open adoption (as in, a children’s book) but more books that feature families who don’t all look like freaking carbon copies of each other.

It’s a shame I can’t draw anything but stick figures. HA!