If I don't write first thing, then the day somehow slips away, making my thoughts all jumbled up in my head, un-thought through and unreleased, like a puff of air leaving my brain, but unfiltered and unprocessed.
I sat in church today between my two oldest daughters, Sarah and Deysi, then Marcela, Deysi and their kids came back to the house with me, the kids played all afternoon, cried when it was time to leave, and now it's time to cook up some garlic-soaked lentils for dinner.
I'd had a rare show of help yesterday as we've been cutting some waist high grass, and I don't wanna say he's moody, but happily he's smiling this week, Chuy, that is. Still upset at birth siblings that are costing themselves so much by their behaviors that most likely are not a choice.
From an email: Having taken care of 52 traumatized children, 17 of whom we've adopted, I get your feelings and your struggles. For the first time in almost 30 years, I took my valuable time to start reading stuff written by others who might understand my life. I don't personally know a single person who is mothering so many traumatized children and has been doing it for so long. To many, my husband and I just look crazy. When I stumbled upon your blog, I recognized myself in so many ways. There is such irony between the commitment, endurance and perseverance and the anger, bitterness and resentment that comes in spurts - sometimes lasting months or even longer. But something keeps us going back to help more. To endure more. To try again.
She writes a blog here.
I'd been asked, "What does Dr. Mandy think of your isolationist philosophy?"
I had no clue, we'd not talked about it ever, and so I asked her this week. "Is it normal to be so socially withdrawn?'
"Were you like that before you parented so many traumatized kids?" She asked me.
Yeah, I kinda was. Bookworms aren't known for dancing on tables you know.
"Then it's not abnormal now, it's not a response to what all has happened, but just rather it is how you cope, how you've always coped."
That was incredibly reassuring to me, not that I feel I'm losing my marbles, but I do comprehend that I can be rather eccentric...thus reinforcing my desire to be alone.
Daniel's been over this weekend also. I find solace and comfort in the majority of my grown kids certainly, they truly do understand. Sarah's been super busy with her Yoga Teacher Training Class but she's learned and shared so much that now Marcela, pictured below with CW, also is intrigued with aiming to be vegan.
She was telling her many memories of Uncle Jimbo cooking at the beach house at Nags Head during her childhood, so I found a link for her to pursue, as Jim cooked straight from The Moosewood Cookbook. It's interesting to hear their memories. We planned our 25th celebration for October, that's when they came to America, we'd met earlier in 1987 when I'd flown to Honduras for the first time.
We've had our ups and downs, our conflicts and struggles, but hey, here it is 25 year later and we're still standing.
Jack's in a Mexican Recliner - our version of a Lazy Boy - and Alexander played boy games with all his uncles today involving light sabers bought for a buck at a yard sale. Most photos today are courtesy of Tia Tabby.
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