I bought Munchkin a few little things while we were on vacation. And the same number of little things for her little brother. I picked out some things that I would have bought for her if she was there but that were not overly expensive.

It’s always hard for me to pick out things for her. Will she like it? Does she have something like it? Will she think it is boring? Or silly? Or useless? Or? Or? Or? It’s not my favorite part of birth parenting.

And now, of course, I  have to get my act together, print out some pictures of the boys at camp and get everything mailed out. I thought I’d get to it today but I had so much work to catch up on (which I’m procrastinating on right now by blogging here) and I’m also babysitting for my neighbor and trying to get my boys back to some semblance of a routine and and and and. Sigh.

I hope she likes the stuff. I think I would if I was a girl her age. And I was once.

I got little to no sleep last night thanks to teething.

But my heart is breaking for adoptees everywhere.

I’m now learning that while I am stereotyped and judged and generally told to shut my mouth, adoptees are being dealt a worse hand. (Before you jump on my back that adoptive parents are as well, I need you to keep reading.)

If I see one more person tell an adoptee that they don’t have a “right” to feel x, y or z way about their adoption, my head is going to explode. I can almost understand when not-so-nice people tell me that I don’t have a “right” to feel sad (or enteremotionhere) since I “chose” this path for my life. But to tell an adoptee, who had no choice in the matter, that they are wrong for searching? To tell them that they’re wrong for feeling as though something is missing in their life? To tell them that they’re wrong to want to have a relationship with their biological families? Explode.

I mean, I can’t even grasp the concept of telling anyone, adoption or not, that they can’t feel the way that they do… but, you know, I have tact and compassion and what not. At the same time, I’m wondering what causes the inability to accept the fact that people feel differently? That unless their anger or sadness or enteremotionhere is directly caused by an action or inaction on your part, YOU have nothing to do with it. Where is this concept getting lost? And how can I teach my sons to realize this fact?

Also? I’m not packed. We’re leaving in the morning for eleven days. No internet. Sounds heavenly, no? And I want more cookies from Barb. That is all.