- Every milestone is worth celebrating. It doesn’t matter how small.
- Perfect is not real.
- Sometimes, my self-care is THE most important thing.
- Take the long view. Big picture is everything.
- This, too, shall pass. It always does.
- Humor goes a long way.
- Be responsible for the energy I bring into a room.
- Be gentle.
- Notice what my face is doing.
- I get to be human. I get to be human. I get to be human.
- Forgive myself.
- Forgive my kid.
- Other kids and families might do things differently not better, not “normal” just different.
- Advocate for my kid with persistence, patience, and love.
- Saying no is really important.
- Saying yes is really important.
- Get on the floor and play.
- I’m not in control of, well…barely anything.
- People act out when they are afraid.
- I act out when I am afraid.
- People stare. Smile back.
- I am a superhero.
- My kid is working as hard as I am.
- Hold onto joy every time it shows up.
- Get help.
- Join in. When you are part of a community, show up and help.
- Fridays are for take-out. Period.
- It’s okay to laugh so hard you cry. Or pee.
- Swim as much as you can.
- Ride horses in the summer even if you are scared.
- Pie is a great way to celebrate most things.
- Learn how to make chicken soup from scratch.
- If you fall in a lake, just laugh at yourself.
- Pray. It helps.
- Notice who needs help around you.
- Mothers are always there for their kids. Period.
- School is your job. Work hard.
- Find out which activities make you happy and do them.
- I will love you no matter what you do.
- Take charge of a group, even if you’re shy.
- Hold babies every chance you get.
- Blankets and scarves snuggle better if knitted by hand.
- Let people celebrate you, even if it’s hard.
- Singing makes things better.
- Make something and enter it into a contest.
- Read everything you can.
- Get excited about giving people presents.
- Decorate your house for every single holiday.
- Learn the names of trees.
- Let your kids be whoever they are and don’t judge them.
Alarm goes off and all
Beings pile into the big bed
Mama, Mommy, Roxie, Rufus
Kisses and puppy games
A little morning light
Kitchen pajama dances
Cause all I want for Christmas is YOU
Nursing colds with hours and hours and hours in bed with books
Sipping tea from gold mugs on saucers
Sweet orange oil in her bath and mine
Smudge with sage and sweet grass and lavender
Let’s make posters about what we believe in, Mama
Give our money where it counts
Breathing in fear, breathing out safety
We’re all working hard to make sure the leaders we choose do what’s right, love
Smoothies with beets and pasta with bacon
Real wood in the fireplace
Hot water bottles
And so many twinkly lights
New running shoes for the Revolution
And daily walks, walks, walks
Family hugs inside a redwood grove
Can you feel the roots entwined under our feet?
Close friends close
Smiling at neighbors
Keeping the house clean, clean, clean
Keep laughing, Mommy
I love it when you laugh
You know the moment. When your child’s eyes glaze over and they gear themselves up to throw an epic fit in Target…in the grocery store…at a friend’s house…on an airplane…and there you are: heat rising up the back of your neck, cheeks flushed and mind racing as all eyes turn on you. What’s she going to do? The adults nearby want to know. What’s Mommy gonna do? Your kid wants to know. What am I going to do? You want to know too.
These moments are the stuff mothering is made of. What happens next? For me, my thoughts turn quickly into action, so I’ve learned to pay attention to what I tell myself during tense parenting moments, especially when I’m in public.
Wanna know the things I say to myself when I’m embarrassed about my mothering in public? Check out the post I wrote for Rookie Moms this week! So honored I got to be a guest writer on this awesome site and give an adoptive mama’s perspective.
I like to think that I’m really playful with my daughter. After working with other people’s children for a decade facilitating play and drama classes, I pictured myself being the kind of mom who gets on the floor and plays, you know?
The kind of mom who chases her little one on the playground pretending to be the monster that all the kids run from. The kind of mom who is happy to become a fairy princess with hot lava power anytime her child asks. Continue Reading
This class has
Going on Continue Reading
“Do one thing everyday that scares you,” Eleanor Roosevelt said.
Some days, for me, that means adopting an older child, or publishing our journey on this blog, or advocating for her special needs. Other days, it’s making caramel corn.
That’s right. I’ve been mustering the courage to make this recipe in my favorite cookbook for, like, a year. What makes caramel so scary? The way it bubbles? The fact that it can burn and stink up your house or worse, ruin your saucepan? Squirrel wanted to make it with me but her energy is too frenetic for me to include her this first time around. So I waited until the hour before she came home from school, buttered the biggest bowl I could find (and then a second one when that still wasn’t big enough) and got poppin’.
I have to tell you that I felt the joy of a little kid doing their first science experiment. Watching butter and maple syrup and raw sugar melt together is fun as it is. But when you add baking soda and almond extract (I was out of vanilla) then BAM!
It spits and fizzes and swirls. It makes your home smell like heaven. Even if you spill half of it on the floor as you try stirring the gooey treat and your dogs get more of it than you do, you can still feel proud. Even though your kitchen might be trashed and you’re way to tired to deal with it anytime soon, you still deserve to celebrate.
Your kid and wife will walk through the door and smile in surprise at the scent of sugar in the air. “What is that!?” they’ll ask, beaming. You get to be smug and satisfied. You did something that scared you. You turned a regular afternoon into a memory. You made…caramel corn. Enjoy!
Spring is trauma season at our house. This means that along with flowers blooming, spring vacations, and deep cleaning, we are also tending our daughter’s wounds. We’re immersed in self care and holding onto the bright spots. We’re reminding ourselves that all things move and change. This poetry series is my way of wrapping love around a challenging time and documenting our journey of building a family through adoption. Enjoy!
This the eleventh installation of an ongoing series of adoption poems by Allison Kenny. Read the rest of the series here.