Adoption Reunion Stories Needed

You’ve probably already heard about this since Claudia is the Undisputed Queen of the Internet, and beat me to it, but we’re going to edit a book.  A book about adoption reunion.  A book that is going to feature stories from you.

This is something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.  When I started searching, I found a lot of information on how to find my birth parents, I got lots of help from search angels, first parenrts, fellow adoptees, even a social worker and an adoptive parent or two.  I would have not found my first mother without them.  They gave me a map, let me know what to expect, and provided me with a sense of community. It was good and I’ll forever be in their debt.

But once I found my first family, I felt like I was on my own.  There were a few blogs out there, a few folks on message boards who were talking about their reunions, but at that time it was still pretty thin.  I couldn’t find many books that dealt with how to handle reunion, so many just stopped at found.  So I proceeded without much of a map.

Luckily when things really started to go south in my reunion I had found a community.  At the time there weren’t many of us but enough to get me through a rough patch. I think those folks saved my life.

Now there is a lot more information out there.  More people are talking about reunion past the first hugs and honeymoon period, more people are blogging, more people are sharing.  That’s good. Their stories are wonderful, painful, amazing, inspiring, crazy making, and every other feeling imaginable.

I wanted to bring these stories together, in one place, for those just going into reunion, and for those who are finding their way through reunion.  Some of the best stories can be hard to find, and I know, there are new stories out there that need to be heard.

I knew that I would need help with this, another perspective, someone knowledgeable that had been through the experience.  Claudia was the first to come to mind. She was a first parent, in reunion, and has a deep understanding of issues surrounding adoption.  She’s also a hell of a writer, gorgeous, and way cooler than me.  I wasn’t sure I could get her on board., but I thought I’d give it a try.  I was pretty sure if she thought it was a dumbass idea, at least she’d tell me nicely.

She liked the idea and we were off.  I had contributed an essay to Pieces Of Me; Who Do I Want To Be, the teen book from EMK Press.  I loved that book, it let adoptees say what they needed to say, it was honest.  I wanted the reunion book to be like that.  So I put on my confident writer persona and brought the idea to Carrie Kitze, the publisher at EMK Press.  She’s way cooler than me too, so I figured if she thought it was a dumbass idea, she would also tell me nicely.

Carrie liked it.  I can’t thank her enough for giving all of us this opportunity to tell our stories.

So now we are really off.  I need your help too.  I need you to write about your reunion, the good and the bad.  I need you to be honest and not hold anything back.  I need you to tell others what you wished you had known.  This book is about you, and your experiences, your feelings, your stories.

Help me out here, please.  I know we can do something wonderful.

Below is a link to the call for submissions, it will give you some ideas, and the information you need to tell your story.

Pieces Of Reunion-Call for Submissions

Thank you.

Getting To Know You

When I was child my a-mom made me sing “Getting To Know You” from the musical The King And I every time someone new came over.  This was made even more traumatic by dressing me in a little fake kimono. It  made it more authentic, she said.  I suppose she figured that Japan was a whole lot closer to Thailand than Missouri, I don’t know.  I’m pretty sure I don’t really want to know what was behind her reasoning on that.

I’m thinking about that experience today because my first natural family reunion is approaching.  It’s a bit scary.  I fear that I may revert back to my grade school self and spontaneously break into show tunes.  That would be bad.  It would only take a few seconds of “Seventy-Six Trombones” to derail future relationships.

If I can overcome one of the very unique ways that adoption has scarred me, and don’t break into song, I’m not sure what to do.  Part of me would love to lay low and just observe.  Just watch them, see what they look like, how they move, hear their voices.  But I have a feeling I won’t get much of a chance to do that.  People are going to ask me who I am.  Ugh.  I’m not looking forward to that.  I suppose I should have some prepared.

How am I suppose to prepare something like that?  What am I  supposed to say?  And more importantly, can I set it to music?

Second Thoughts About Relinquishing Myself

As you all know I have been considering relinquishing myself to my governor, but now I’m not so sure.  It’s not that I don’t like my governor, I do, and it would be cool to be the governor’s kid.  I bet I could get into the state fair for free.  But, even with all the perks, I might be doing myself a disservice.

Since this would be a public adoption, it wouldn’t cost very much.  My states chief executive might even get paid to take care of me while the paperwork went through.  I think I’m worth more.  I think I’ll put myself up for adoption privately. Possibly internationally.

I’ll be acting as my own facilitator, oh course.  So what does a white kid go for on the international market these days? $30,000 or $40,000?  Hey for that I can throw in a collectible Barbie Doll and a teddy bear.

So if you know anyone that might be interested in a bright, fairly well behaved girl, with a smile that can light up the room and melt heats, let me know.

Six Word Memoir For My Mother

Grown In My Heart is doing a Mother’s Day carnival, along with some great prizes, with winners chosen by you, the readers.  Head over here and check it out.  Grown In My Heart .

Basically all you need is a picture of your mom and six little words. It’s tougher than it sounds.

So here goes….

Weather’s here, wish you were fine.

I Wonder If I Can Relinquish Myself?

Since my state continues to treat me like a child that can’t be trusted with my records, I think I’d like to relinquish myself, to the state.  the problem is I don’t want to be a ward of the court.   Since I’m relinquishing myself I think I should be able to pick my new adoptive parents.

I was thinking the governor would be a good choice.  He can afford another kid, and let’s face it, the prestige would be nice.  I think it would be a mutually beneficial relationship.  He could get all kinds of publicity for adopting and I could live in the governor’s mansion.

I think it would be a great way to bring adoptee rights issues home to someone who could do something about it.  At all the family photo ops, conventions, and tree lighting ceremonies I could raise my fist and yell “GIVE ADOPTEES THEIR ORIGINAL BIRTH CERTIFICATES!!”.   I’m betting that could get something done fast.

We all should do it.  Just imagine if all the governors, in all the states that don’t allow equal access for adoptees, had tens of thousands adult adoptees trying to relinquish themselves to them…….

The potential news story.

Addie Pray Nixon, yeah that sounds good.

Boat Drinks and Bastards

Boat drinks.

Waitress, I need two more boat drinks.

Because we are building boats.

Like a lot of projects, this one started on a cold winter when anything seems possible in the coming Spring.  My husband ran across plans for simple boats on the internet, possibly after having a boat drink.  I have to admit it did sound fun to build our own boats and take them down the nearby river.  I’d probably had a couple of boat drinks.

Other than a one hour Mississippi River cruises on a paddle boat and an unfortunately dark lagoon cruise in Cancun, we’ve never really been on any other boats.  We’ve never taken a float trip or a cruise.

The sum of our knowledge amounts to the fact that both of our dads owned boats.  My dad’s boat looked like this, but with more sparkles….

Hubby’s family was always much more reserved, his dad’s boat was pretty much like this too, with less sparkles.  This isn’t the greatest knowledge base. Going down river boats are not like bass boats.  We are not about to let that stop us.

Hubby has gather wood, fiberglass tape, and assorted construction materials. I have gathered a fresh coconut, pineapple juice, and have checked rum supplies.  I think we are ready to get started.

What Do I Want?

Someone asked me today what I would buy if I had $1000 to spend only on things I wanted for myself.  I didn’t have a single idea.  There are things I want, most of them cost less than $1000, but I couldn’t think of a thing that I would actually commit to spending that money on.

I’d like an e-reader and several hundred dollars for all those books I want to read.  It just seems kind of stupid to spend money on that when I just go to the library and get any book for free.

I’d like an awesome set of watercolor pencils, some paint and brushes, and assorted art stuff.  I just already have quite a bit of that kind of thing, and can really do whatever I want to do without anymore.

I’d like to go away for a nice weekend.  I just don’t have time even if I did have the money.

I’d like some new clothes.  I just don’t want to spend forever looking around for just the right thing.

The truth is if I did have $1000, I’d probably give it to my husband to spend on his truck, or just pay bills with it.

There are a lot of things I want.  I just don’t want them that bad.  I guess I’m not very good at taking care of myself.  I feel guilty filling up the bath tub if I’m not going to stay in it for at least an hour.  I’ll opt for a less expensive entree on a menu, even if the difference is only a couple of dollars.  I have a hard justifying the money spent to get my hair done.

I think I need some help.  Is there some kind self indulgence therapy group I could join?

We could all sit in a circle passing around advertisements for perfumes, spas, cruises, and gadgets while being told over and over that these things are actually real.  Eventually we could be exposed to the actual products.

We could participate in Retail Clearance Sign Avoidance Therapy where we were sent into clothing stores and made to touch, and even try on, in season, full priced items.

We could go to restaurants where we would be required to order, and actually eat, without sharing, both an appetizer and a dessert.

Until I find someone offering this kind of therapy, I guess I’ll just have cheese sandwich and a glass of water.