A few of my favorite things

My name is Shannon...

and I am a procrastinator.

You guys are so encouraging and supportive. I really appreciate your kind words on my last post. The good news is, I know what the problem is. Procrastination has always been an issue for me. One year at church on Good Friday we could write something down and nail it to the cross--procrastination was on my paper. Man, it felt good hammering the heck out of that word. Obviously that wasn't the end of it though. In the past I have been able to get away with it. The important stuff would eventually get done just in the nick of time (this served to annoy my friends in college immensely), and I told myself I worked better with the pressure of a looming deadline. I could get away with this strategy (or non-strategy) until the arrival of Princess Amelia.

Guess what. Procrastination does not work when you are the mother of three with a husband who works 14 hours a day and occasionally gets one day a week off (Particularly when 2 of them are L. and A. Really, I have just scratched the surface here of the havoc they can wreak.) It especially doesn't work at Christmas. And newsflash to Shannon--it doesn't feel good not to do your best, to do less than you are capable of. So. No mystery.

I don't have unrealistic expectations, I am not trying to conform to some impossible standard of motherhood and homemaking and um wifelihood (? what word do I need there, lol). But I know that I can do better. I CAN manage my time so that I get done the necessary stuff and still play Balloon Lagoon and read Snugglepuppy without looking at my watch. Amelia certainly needs to hear the word "no"--but that shouldn't be all she hears. I can take the time to feed my family healthy food and not crap. (Thank you Jen for sending me Deceptively Delicious! So excited to start pureeing up a storm!) We can have a peaceful home. And I CAN finally get the special needs ministry at church going so that the kids who need it can attend Sunday School with trained buddies and their families can get a break. I can make time to exercise so I don't feel like a big ole' blob of wobbly cellulite. I can make time to pray and read the Bible daily. (Hmmm...should have put that first. Perhaps that is the problem?)

Of course even if I do what I need to parenting 3 little ones is a challenge and the best laid plans yada yada. But it is a very different feeling going to bed at night knowing that regardless of the outcome, I really did use the gifts that God gave me to the very best of my ability.

So being positive, a highlight:

* Kids are eating lunch, I go out to the mailbox. By the time I get back, Amelia has climbed out of her high chair, taken her diaper off, and is sitting on top of the table naked eating off of L.'s plate. Totally hysterical.

M.s' letter to Santa:

dear Santa
Thank you for the good presents you give us at christmas. how many cookies would you like? how many carrots would the raindeer like? would you lik a beer? [see I wasn't kidding on Laurie's kegerator contest, we really do leave a beer for Santa--according to my husband Santa gets enough milk on Christmas Eve] Please send a Letter back. I might give you a present.
from M.

[Pictures drawn of each child with list below]
Amelia would like an Asian baby doll.
L. would like a flashlight [he came up with that himself] and a wide based scooter and helmet.
I would lika a uniqe American girl doll bed [mommy explained that the elves don't always make the beds exactly like in the AG catalog...sometimes they much more closely resemble the beds at Tarjay]
the Samantha Christmas dress [first Santa heard of this--and Santa thought he was all done with the toymaking]
and Little House on the Prairy Season 2

So, I think I have found the Christmas spirit, with a little help from Charlie Brown, hot chocolate (peppermint schnapps optional), L. singing and signing Silent Night, and the sugar cookie decorating extravaganza. Thank you again for your kindness and support!

p.s. Amelia tinkled on the potty twice last night...I don't think it will be long until she can really sing "no more diapers for me"!

p.s.s. Please help--I need just one good easy recipe for cookie exchanges. what is your favorite?

And finally, from Emily and baby Abe (go check out this adorable little guy and say a prayer for him, they are facing an unexpected diagnosis with grace and strength)

Struggling

OK, just had to post that--we already had our annual family viewing of Christmas vacation...although we don't confine quoting this classic to the holiday season.

I am struggling. We are abundantly.blessed. I know this. We have everything we could possibly need materially (although, tuition for the next half of the year would be nice). I have three beautiful children, each a miracle (I mean I know all children are, but really? the fact that our kids are here and healthy is a miracle).

What I don't have now is joy, which has never been a struggle for me. Even during some really challenging times, I enjoyed my life. Now, what I mostly have is a constant feeling of inadequacy, that NO.ONE in this family is getting the attention they need from me. I have to change, and be more disciplined, more intentional. I always felt like a decent mom and wife before...not so much now. And it is showing up in the kids. (Exhibit A--Amelia is currently saying "NO.NO.NO" to her lovey. Wonder where she hears that from?) And I feel stupid. Because really. There are people with real actual problems. There are moms of more than 3 kids. There are moms who have lost children. What a loser I am to not be stepping up to the plate. Except I am not supposed to be having thoughts like that. Must.not.call self a loser.

BUT. I have hope. Because I know with God's grace (I can certainly NOT do this on my own, I have tried) I can get my $hit together and that I have the potential to be the wife and mom I need to be. I am trying to make Advent meaningful, and until I can be more disciplined about time on the computer I will be blogging and commenting less--BUT. I love you all and wish you a meaningful holiday season, filled with peace and joy.

Edited to add: you know the glass ornaments? the ones we didn't put on the tree this year for obvious reasons? guess who must not have put the lid properly on the bin they were in? and guess who discovered this opportunity to see what happens when you throw them? (this was literally about 2 minutes after I checked on them happily playing.) And you know those three full laundry baskets of clothes I just finished folding? Guess who dumped those out while Mommy was sweeping up the ornaments? One day I will look back and laugh right?

Charlie, that hurt!

Just in case I am not the only one who hadn't seen this, too good not to share. If this doesn't make you laugh you have a heart made out of stone!

Why I put my Down's syndrome baby up for adoption... and the loving mother who took him in

By Amanda Cable

When Nathan was born with Down's his horrified mother gave him away - a decision that's left her scarred by guilt. But for the woman who adopted him, he's been an endless source of joy. Here both women tell their haunting stories

THE BIRTH MOTHER
Sue, 45, lives near Bristol with her second husband, Simon, and two of her children, Leanne, 24, and Jake, 18. She says:
A photograph of Nathan and myself is kept by my bed. It was taken last summer, when I took him to Disneyworld to celebrate his 18th birthday. I've always kept in contact with my son and seen him on his birthdays, but this was extra special - the holiday of a lifetime.
In this snapshot - my favourite picture - we are both looking horrified and thrilled as we plunge on the rollercoaster together.
Nathan with birth mum Sue, who gave him away for adoption 20 years ago

Those two weeks that I spent with my son were the happiest days of my life.

It was as if I had been taken to heaven - to be able to hold him, smell him and enjoy my boy again.
But at the end of each day, Nathan would walk to a window, look out wistfully and say: 'Can we ring Mum today? Can I speak to Mum?'
And, of course, he meant Alex - the woman who adopted him after I gave him away.

Since Nathan was born, so many knives have twisted into my heart.

But, strangely enough, I didn't feel jealous that he loves Alex more - or that she is 'Mum' to my son - because I was the one who handed Nathan over as a baby. I handed over the right to that intense love.
All I wanted was for him to be happy - and I'm happy that he has found someone he truly loves to raise him.
Perhaps the real sadness of my situation is that my decision to give Nathan up for adoption was made at the loneliest and most terrifying point of my life.

'The thought made me shudder'
I honestly believe that if just one person had said to me: 'Sue, you can cope. You can manage with this baby', then I would happily have kept him and both our lives might have been so different.
When Nathan was born, I was 25 years old - I had no life experience whatsoever. I had grown up in a small town outside Bristol, left school to work in a factory and at the age of 20 married my childhood sweetheart, Trevor - my first and only boyfriend at that time.
A year later, our daughter Leanne was born. All our friends were having babies at the same time, and soon I was pregnant again. When I was six months gone, I went to a shopping precinct.
There, walking towards me, was a woman in her 60s, with a tight perm, looking exhausted and haunted.

She wore a cheap elasticated skirt, had sandals on over swollen ankles and her shoulders were slumped. She looked despairing. Holding her hand was her son - a man of about 30, with the distinctive Down's syndrome features.
It was the first time I had seen anyone with Down's syndrome, and I couldn't get the image of this boy-man and his mother out of my mind.

I just remember thinking: 'He's never going to leave home.' The thought made me shudder.
Nathan: His adoptive mother said 'He was the most beautiful baby I had ever seen'

Nathan was born on March 9, 1988. They wrapped him in a blanket, put him in my arms, and my husband took a photograph. I remember thinking: 'We've got a little boy - lovely'.
Then, suddenly, the midwife took him from my arms and walked out. For three hours, I kept asking for my baby whenever a doctor or nurse came into the room, but no one would tell me what was going on. I could only see the pity in their eyes. I felt terrified.
Finally, we were taken to a special care baby unit, where Nathan lay in an incubator.

A nurse took my hand; the doctor said: 'Nathan isn't going to die, but he's a Mongol - he has Down's syndrome.'

With that, he handed me three leaflets - with awful old-fashioned images of children with their tongues hanging out. All I could think of was the woman in the shopping precinct with her grown son stumbling beside her. I thought: 'Was that an image of me in the future?'
I was in shock. I couldn't bring myself to ring my mum. I didn't even know what to say to Trevor, and he couldn't find any way of comforting me. I actually thought: 'I'll tell people he has died, then we can walk away from the hospital and pretend this has never happened - but I realised I couldn't live a lie.'
I couldn't bring myself to hold my baby either, though. I was terrified of falling in love with him - and I knew that there would be no choice. Already, someone had mentioned adoption.
The next day, my mother and family came in to see the baby, and someone took a photo of us all together. I remember looking around and thinking: 'You are never going to be part of this family.'
Deep depression
We left hospital 24 hours after Nathan's birth - and left him there. He was still in special care, where he remained for a week. It was almost accepted that I should just leave without him.
At the end of the week, someone rang me and said: 'We can't keep him at hospital, he's fit now. If you want him to go to foster care, we will arrange it.'
So it just all happened, while I sat in shock. Not one person - the medical staff, my husband or friends - even hinted I should bring Nathan home.
Leaving hospital without a healthy child was perhaps the most miserable experience of my life.
Going home to the nursery we'd prepared was so hard. My next-door neighbour had just had a baby.
At night, I heard a baby crying and I would run into the empty nursery, looking for my son. Then I would remember that he wasn't perfect, and he wasn't here - and it would hit me like a physical pain.
My arms ached to hold Nathan again. But I knew nothing about children with Down's syndrome, and it terrified me.

It only would have taken one person to say: 'Come on Sue, let's love him, you can do it' - but no one did. My friends melted away from me, and my husband wouldn't say those words that I needed to hear.
Nathan was taken to a foster home after a week, and I was allowed to visit. Even so, by then I'd made my mind to have him adopted. I tried to cram all my motherhood into those few hours - bathing him, feeding him and smelling his beautiful baby smell.
One minute I thought I would keep him, the next I swung, like a pendulum, into a deep depression.
Nathan (right) and Chloe, another Down's baby adopted by Alex Bell

I was still in shock, and was left to make the biggest decision of my life with no support. I went to see children at a local special school, and one boy with Down's syndrome ran over and gave me a huge bear hug. It terrified me. At that moment, I realised I couldn't keep Nathan.
I can't remember the moment I told the social workers I wanted to put my baby up for adoption. But the decision had been made when I first heard of Alex Bell.
I was doing my ironing, crying - I wept constantly - and watching daytime TV. There was a feature about this amazing mum from Manchester who had adopted three boys with Down's syndrome and was looking to adopt one more.
She said: 'Somewhere out there is a baby which has been born and is destined to be mine.'
I started to shake, and I taped the rest of the programme. I watched it over and over again. Six weeks later, the social worker arrived to update me on Nathan's adoption. They had put his picture in an adoption magazine, and 200 people had applied to take him.
There was a shortlist of three, and the social worker read me brief details. When he came to the last one, he said: 'There's a single mother who has adopted three boys with Down's syndrome.'

I ran to the video tape, put on the programme and pointed to Alex. I was shaking, and I said: 'It's her, isn't it.'

'I was a nervous wreck'
The social worker just threw his papers in the air and smiled.
The thought that Nathan would be loved by this incredible woman made such a difference.

Weeks later, when the adoption had been approved, I was told that Alex wanted to meet me. I was utterly terrified. I thought she'd walk into my immaculate house and see all my nice things and think: 'She has a lovely home. Why is she giving away her baby?'
I was a nervous wreck. But Alex walked in through the door and said: 'Put the kettle on and make me a tea.'
It was the first time, since Nathan had been born three months earlier, that anyone had said anything normal to me - the first time I felt I could breathe.

Looking back, at the time, I was falling apart. Alex saved me. She mentioned open adoption - giving me the chance to stay in contact with Nathan - and although the social workers weren't keen, we both insisted that this was what we wanted.
Nathan went to Alex when he was eight months old, having remained in foster care up to that point. Even up until the final hour, I kept having panic attacks.
Marriage split
I can't remember the time I saw him last before handing him over - I was too grief-stricken. By now, I was pregnant again. I didn't want to replace Nathan, but I felt that without another baby to hold, I would just fall apart.
Alex sent me a postcard after a few weeks, and said Nathan had settled down. On Christmas Day, she rang to thank me for a gift I'd sent to Nathan.
On Nathan's first birthday, she caught the train from Manchester and we met for three hours.

I hardly recognised my own son. He was so happy and healthy, and was lying on his front and lifting his head. I was buzzing with happiness just to see him again.
Over the years, I continued to see Nathan on his birthdays, just before Christmas, and once for a summer party at Alex's house. It was wonderful to see him growing up so happily - but each time I said goodbye, I would fall into an awful, catatonic depression.
My marriage split up within two years of Nathan's adoption and I know it was largely because of my husband's failure to support me over our baby. I resented the fact that I had been so alone and so vulnerable.

I still live with the guilt that I gave Nathan away. I think of him every morning when I wake, and every night as I go to bed.
When we are with him now, we have such fun together as a family - myself, my second husband Simon, Leanne and my son Jake. I often think: 'This is what life would have been like for us. We could have been a proper family.'
THE ADOPTER

Alex Bell, 53, has adopted eight children with Down's syndrome, and cares for her family in a ten-bedroom home outside Manchester. Nathan was the fourth child she adopted.
I first saw Nathan beaming up at me from a photo in an adoption magazine.
Here was this beautiful happy little baby, and just three lines written underneath, saying: 'Three-month-old baby boy needs a new home. Down's syndrome. No complications.'
Alex Bell with Matthew (left) and Nathan aged 13

It was as if the photograph had jumped up and grabbed my heart - I just knew that he had to be mine.
I had already adopted three older boys, all with Down's syndrome, but I was longing to hold a baby in my arms for the first time. I had already been approved to adopt again when I happened by chance to see Nathan's photograph. I immediately rang up.
I don't judge people who hand over their babies for adoption. How can anyone say how they would feel in that situation, if their hopes and dreams for a perfect child had fallen apart.

Often, they have their marriages and other children to consider. Not everyone has the support that they need to raise a child who may have challenges.
But I really wanted to meet Nathan's mother before he became mine. I wanted to know who she was, what she was like - and get some sense of why she had come to the decision.
My chance came when I met Nathan for the first time. The adoption had been approved, and the social workers arranged for me to come and see Nathan at his foster home.

He was the most beautiful baby I had ever seen - with enormous dark eyes. He was friendly, happy and well cared for.
I thought of the mother who was giving him up and realised she must be going through hell. I thought: 'She deserves to meet me, to see where her boy is going.'
So I asked the social worker to arrange a meeting. He rang Sue, and she agreed to meet me straightaway.
Alex and her seven adopted Down's children: Nathan is wearing the striped England football shirt

We went to her house, and when she opened the door I saw the definition of hell. Sue was in utter torment. The agony was there in her face.
This was not someone who was handing over a baby because she could not be bothered or because she wanted a perfect child. This was a mother who loved her baby dearly, and who was in an appalling physical and mental state.
We had a cup of tea together, and I told her about my life with the boys. Sue seemed to relax - I liked her enormously, and I had a strong feeling that if she had more support around her, she would be raising her son herself.
We both agreed that Sue should remain in contact with Nathan. I am always honest with my children. They know where they came from, that they had other birth mothers.
I wanted Nathan to grow up secure in the knowledge that his birth mum had loved him, too.
A month later, I picked Nathan up and drove him home as my own son. Sue had handed over all his baby clothes, and all the teddies and toys she had bought during her pregnancy.
At first, our contact was sporadic. But as Nathan settled, I started to write, or telephone, just to let her know how happy he was.

We were all so happy. For me, the joy of holding a baby in my arms and giving him his bottle meant so much. I had never known so much contentment.
I decided I wanted to adopt children when I was 22 and working as a teacher in a special school. I was single - I had boyfriends, but the rush of love in my life came from the children I worked with, not men that I dated.

I never felt the desire to marry, but I did want to care for a child who needed me.
It took four years to be approved as an adopter, because in those days it was almost unheard of for a single woman to adopt, and then another 12 months before they found me a child.
'I fell in love'
Finally, in the spring of 1984 the social worker called at my home, and said 'This is your child.'
She handed me a snapshot of Matthew, a little boy with Down's syndrome who was almost two years old. He was absolutely gorgeous, with light brown hair and blue eyes.
A week later, I was taken to see him at his foster home in Watford and I fell in love. The first six months were tough - Matthew cried a lot - but once he settled, I knew that I wanted him to have a brother or sister.
My next son was Simon, another boy with Down's syndrome. He also had a heart condition though, and a life expectancy of just five. I then applied for a third time and was given Adrian, who was nine; he has Down's syndrome, too, and autism.
I loved being a mother of three, but I really wanted to experience the whole baby thing - changing nappies, holding a little warm body in my arms.

That's when Nathan came into my life. It has been such an honour to be his Mum. I love him just as much as I could ever love a biological child.
Perhaps my only regret is the amount of pain that Sue went through after he was born. We both went on to have more children. Sue had another baby boy, and I adopted another four children with Down's syndrome.
Nathan is now a happy and much-loved brother and son. When I see Sue and him together, I see the pain washed away from her eyes. I never feel jealous about the time he spends with her - I want my children to feel as loved as possible. In the end, Sue and I just both want the same for Nathan. After all, we are both his mothers.

Advent Conspiracy

Happy Anniversary!

11 years. I could never have imagined the experiences we would share in those 11 years, but I am so thankful for my awesome husband. We agreed no gifts would be exchanged, but he came home with champagne, GORGEOUS flowers, a beautiful silk wrap, AND gift certificates for a pedi/mani. Lucky me!

Saturday night was the Gala Fundraiser for our kids' school at the hotel. Not so exciting for their dad to hang out at work, but we had a really great time. Prob. should have switched to water a few drinks earlier. I am hoping I didn't embarrass myself too badly, but I think everyone's attn. was on my friend's husband who was up on the stage belting out Journey with the band. Hysterical!

My parents, the kids and I are hitting the road for Thanksgiving to Charlotte. Dh has to work the entire time, and honestly I think he won't mind being able to sleep through the night and not hearing screeching bright and early in the morning. By putting in his time on Thanksgiving he gets to take Christmas Eve so it's all good. M. can't wait to see her cousins, so while I am sad to leave the hubby, we will make the most of it!