Sometimes, I forget

As you might imagine, I (from time to time) make fun of people who say things that I think are whacked. But listen up all you hipper adoptive parents: feel free to make fun of me now.

I participate in several online adoption forums and I lurk on gabillions more. And I frequently hear parents (those of blended with adoptive kids and bio kids families) profess, "Oh, yeah, five of my twenty kids are adopted, but I keep forgetting which ones . . . " Sure, the sentiment is right enough (love all your kids equally, you're blessed to have 'em, however ya got 'em), but the saying is just so damn cheesy. Like anyone would really forget that. So I've always thought people who spouted off that particular saying were a little whacked in the head. But I won't be making fun of this particular subset of adoptive parents anytime soon, for reasons which will soon be made clear.

On a somewhat-related-yet-more-somber note, I often (during my bad parenting moments) have a fleeting "bad thought" of "Oh A's (or N's, depending on the situation) birthparents would be disappointed in me". This "bad thought" makes me feel not so good about myself, for just a bit, anyway. For example, when I let A and N watch two Spongebobs in a row (under the guise of quiet time) or when I try to pass off frozen pizza and applesauce as a well-balanced lunch for more than two consecutive days? Then the "bad thought" makes me feel oh-so sickish with guilt. Because I am quite sure that if I were a birth parent, I would totally expect that my children would be happily ensconced in a serene home with no television whatsoever, a wide variety of age-appropriate, intellectually stimulating craft activities, and a hot home-cooked meal always at the ready.

So anywho, back to my point.

Last night, as I was letting the baby gorge himself on a fudge-stripe cookie (because baby loves fudge-stripe cookies, it is sooooo cute, really it is) instead of the organic "chicken, brown rice, and carrots" dinner that I had prepared bought & nuked for him, the "bad thought" flashed through my head: "C's birthmother would be soooooo disappointed in me."

But HA! I am such a dumbass for thinking that bad thought just at that time! Because, um, I am C's only mother (unless he was switched at birth, which I am reasonably certain he was not)! This kid has no birthmother mentally looming over my shoulder, wagging her imaginary head in disappointment! Let the good times roll!

And there you have it: the reason why I can no longer make fun of those people who say "but I can't remember which kids are adopted". Hell, I may even go around saying it myself now. You just never can tell about me.