My Midlife Musings

Christmas Shop with Purpose this Year!

Make a difference with your holiday shopping this year.

Support organizations that help children, promote free trade, and empower women around the world. Check out these websites for beautiful handmade jewelry, clothing, home decoration items, and much more. Or, purchase a gift in honor of someone here that will really change the life of someone “over there.” A goat, a rabbit, a vaccine or a mosquito net can literally mean the difference between life and death for a child, a woman, or an entire family in some countries. Isn’t that better than buying another sweater for your sister or a board game for your grandkids?

 

FAIR TRADE & EMPOWERING WOMEN

Global Girlfriend

Ten Thousand Villages

SERRV

 

FAMILIES & CHILDREN

Save the Children

World Vision

 

CHILDREN

St. Jude's Children's Research Hospital

The Silent Children Project

 

My Life Would NOT Have Been the Same

November is National Adoption Month.

There are 115,000 children in the US waiting to be adopted.  www.adoptuskids.org

There are 150 million orphans in the world who need your help. www.silentchildren.org

If you know me, you already know my Natasha story. But there are a few other adoption tidbits in my family I probably haven't shared. It's funny when I think back on my life  now, but it seems that I was surrounded by adoption stories growing up and didn't realize it until I adopted myself. That's the great thing and the bad thing about adoption--we're all probably surrounded by adoption stories but don't notice. That's because adoption is just another aspect of life. It's normal. It's people reaching out to help, to love, to fulfill, to save. It's people making a family. It's what we all try to do every day.

I first remember the word "adoption" when my mom told me about  the son of her best friend. Aunt Marian, as I knew her, adopted her son as a baby. I don't think it was ever discussed openly as some oddity, but when Aunt Marian gave birth to her second child, it seemed to be necessary to clarify some questions. Thus, I had my first discussions into "forever homes," "birth moms," and what constitutes a family.

Not long after that, my parents split up and my definition of "family" would forever be changed. It became clear that family wasn't defined by blood ties or legal bindings--it was defined my love, support, and trust. My mother eventually met and married Tony who brought three daughters of his own to the relationship. As it turned out,  two of Tony's daughters were adopted as infants.

Not only did I have a new step-family, but adoption touched my life again. The fact that two of my new sisters were adopted, however, was not really a big deal at all. It was not something we pointed out or used to distinguish them--unless we were trying to impress someone. Yes, pointing out that your sisters are "stepped" and "adopted" was quite a conversation starter in those days. Remember, most people only had Disney's nasty fairy tales and the unrealistic Brady Bunch as their reference into the world of step-families and adoption.  Anyway, it was very matter-of-fact for us and more discussion took place over who sat where in the family car than about anything else.

In high school, I "went with" a few boys freshman and sophomore year, but my first real serious relationship came in my junior year and lasted into college. John was the best 1st boyfriend a girl could have. He was respectful, polite, and thoughtful. He had a job and a car which made dating much more fun. He was a year "older" and even had facial hair so that made him interesting. And, as I found out a few weeks into our relationship, he was adopted. As was his sister. 

Growing up when I did, being from a "divorced" family was still an oddity. When you found out someone was like you, you formed an immediate "kinship" based on nothing more than being out of the norm. I imagine it's the same way for adoptees. Although I wasn't adopted, John seemed to be more at ease knowing that the concept and the vocabulary were not foreign to my family.

Not until the early 90's did adoption enter my consciousness again. The Romanian orphan crisis was making the 24 hours news cycle as my husband and I grappled with infertility and the decisions that come with that. I would become well versed in the language of foster care, the benefits of local and foreign adoptions, the risks of open and closed adoptions, attachment disorders, revoked parental rights, so on and so forth. 

Well . . .you know how it goes from here. Eric and I adopted Natasha and so began my Natasha story--my beautiful adopted Natasha story. You can read earlier posts to get caught up then keep reading as I update you on that journey still in progress.

During National Adoption Month, I just wanted to share how adoption has touched my life. In small ways and one very large (well, 98lbs worth) way. Adoption isn't a foreign concept. It's nothing to be scared of. It surrounds us whether we know it or not. Talk about it. Read about it. Encourage it.  Spread the word. Every child deserves a forever family. Maybe it could be yours.

Proud to be an American!

In 1997, I took this picture of my adorable 4-year-old Russian daughter in her Winnie the Pooh dress as she entered Ring Factory Elementary School for her 1st day of kindergarten.  She couldn't speak English and understood even less. But we explained, as best we could, that getting an education and being a respectful citizen of her community was her job. That, and playtime of course!

I took the top picture yesterday. It's my 18-year old still adorable American citizen daughter as she entered Ring Factory Elementary School to vote for the very first time. She does speak English now and is beginning to understand the complexities of living in this great country of ours. We explained that voting is her duty as an American citizen. (That, and shopping of course!) That it doesn't matter who you vote for but that you engage in the very freedom we fought to establish so many years ago. She was nervous--as I believe she should have been because voting is important. But, she did her best with the knowledge and feelings that she had. That's really all any of us can do.

I'm very proud of my Russian Monkey. She is truly an American!

God I love October!

I drove Natasha to school as usual this morning. Wish I was the photographer in the family today. Beautiful colored light was breaking through the clouds as the sun began to rise. Pooled water from the recent rains on the tennis courts were reflecting the still nets. A gray mist was floating effortlessly across the fields and into an empty soccer goal. Fall colored leaves were clinging to fences and tree trunks as if to say "just a little while longer!"  Lacking a camera at that moment, I took a picture with my eyes instead and filed it away in my memory scrapbook

Later this morning, I took a drive north of Wilmington to a little town called Aston in PA. I met a client for an early lunch at a local Mom & Pop cafe where they serve breakfast all day. They close at 2pm. :)

It was a straight shot up I-95 which is usually so boring it's hypnotic. But, with Mother Nature's splendid Fall bouquet on display, it was like a symphony for the eyes! Like any good composition, the tempo would change from adagio to allegro as the trees whipped past my view. I was worried that with the extremely dry summer and very wet early Fall that we wouldn't get a colorful change of season this year.  I was wrong.

God I love October. It's my favorite month of the year. It seems like it takes forever to get here after each more intolerable Maryland summer. I wish it would take as long to leave. 

My Baby is 18 Today!

My baby is 18 today (we think.) The adoption paperwork actually had three different dates scattered throughout. The October date was listed the most often, so we all decided that was probably the most accurate. If you believe in astrology, that makes Natasha a Libra—kind, gentle, charming, and easy to be around. If you know Natasha, you know all that is true.

She was born two months premature which might account for the conflicting birth dates. We hypothesized that she was named “Natalia” since her original due date would have been so close to Christmas. In Russia, “Natasha” is a nickname for the more formal “Natalia.”  

Also, according to the limited paperwork we received, she weighed less than 5 lbs. She probably could have fit in your hand. I often wonder if the women who took care of her in Russia realized how lucky they were. They got to take care of her and hold her when she was born. To rock her while she was being fed. To see her learn to sit up, then crawl, then walk. To see her first smile.

She slept alongside 75 other children in matching purple quilted toddler beds, but surely someone there knew how lucky they were?

Natasha asks me all the time about those early days, as if somehow I have magical access to someone’s memories. Did I have hair when I was born? Did I eat a lot? Did I play with dolls? Unfortunately, I don’t have those details, but I explain to her that it must have been good there, because she is good here. That I imagine she had a head full of beautiful hair when she was born, because she does now. That her smile must have lit up the nursery more than the other babies, because she can light up a room today. That she must have been funny then, because she makes us laugh now.

Sometimes she’ll ask, “Why didn’t you get me sooner?” I tell her we got her as soon as we knew she was there.

I have a photo of myself holding every one of my nieces and nephews as infants, but none of my daughter. I have family full of photographers who have captured every second of their children’s lives since they were born. They could fill a room with their collected memories of their children before they’ve reached the age of 5. Yet, as we celebrate Natasha’s birthday today, I have none of her. It makes me sad that I can’t fill in those years for her—in her memory or mine.

My baby is 18 today. In the past 14 years, there have been countless vacations, school events, personal milestones, family gatherings, and holiday celebrations. We’ve made a lot of new memories together. We’ve taken a hard drive full of pictures that we look at, laugh at, and share. Natasha had lots of “firsts” in those years, and I’ve seen them all.

My baby is 18 today. I know how lucky I am.

Happy Birthday, Natasha. I love you very much.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Today is my 21st wedding anniversary!

Today is my 21^st wedding anniversary. It will be a quiet celebration this year. We’ve been quite indulgent lately with short trips and elegant meals, so we’ll spare our budget any additional extravagances. In years past, though we’ve been known to show some real creativity.

Our first anniversary was hysterical. For those of you who follow traditions or allow yourself to be influenced by Hallmark’s advertising, paper is the commemorative gift your first year. I thought I was clever and insightful when I purchased Eric a beautiful black Mont Blanc pen. But he totally out maneuvered me. He gave me a beautiful wine colored Mont Blanc pen AND personalized stationery!

On our 10^th anniversary, Eric and I renewed our wedding vows at the same chapel we got married in. We cried through the entire ceremony. He wore the same bow tie he wore at our wedding. I wore my wedding gown sans the shoulder padded princess sleeves. He surprised me with a mini bouquet that was reminiscent of my original bouquet 10 years earlier. I surprised him with a 40^th birthday party when we got back to the house! It was one of the best days of my life.

My mother and Tony got married on the 15^th, so many anniversaries we’ve spent together celebrating over dinner at Josef’s Country Inn, one of our favorite restaurants. We’ve also spent many years down Ocean City or at the Hyatt in Cambridge basking in the beautiful October weather and seeing the sites.

A couple of weekends ago we spent the night at the Vandiver Inn in Havre de Grace. We had a wonderful time and started talking about what we might do for our 25^th anniversary. If everything falls into place, we may just celebrate it in grand style at the Vandiver on their beautiful grounds.

I’ve always felt that anniversaries should be celebrated with more than the perfunctory card and cheek peck. Getting married is quite easy, but staying married is hard work. Probably the hardest thing you will do in your life (besides raising children).  You have to work at it every single day.

Why are we still together? Because, on October 14, 1989, we made a promise to each other to work at it.  And we have. Yes, Eric is my husband, but he is also my friend, my confidante, my scapegoat, my hero, my sparring partner, and my sex-kitten. He knows me better than I know myself. And, as his confident wife, I can say the same about him. Oh yeah, one more thing.  I love him.

I love how his hand fits perfectly in mine. I love the soft skin on his shoulders. I love that his feet NEVER stink. I love that he smells like cologne on his cheeks and earlobes. I actually think that he’s smokin’ hot—even after all these years. But that’s not all.

I love how he laughs at Family Guy and The Simpsons. I love that he and Natasha go on “dates.” I love that he coached soccer and roller hockey. I love that he loves to wear suits, and ties, and cuff links, and suspenders. I love that he loves his home. I love that he cries at sad movie endings. And, during Extreme Makeover. And, at the dog rescue commercials. I love that when he speaks of his children, he tears up with pride and love. And, if you mention our deceased dog’s name, get out a hanky.

I love that he loves music and helped me discover many artists I had previously ignored. I love how he loves Christmas and takes care in making it just right. I love how he helped ferry my dad during his radiation treatments; installed light fixtures for my sister; played hockey with my brother-in-law; and secured a job for my sister-in-law. I love how he expects to mash the potatoes at Thanksgiving dinner, and always does the dishes for my mother.

I love that he’ll get milk whenever I ask him—no matter how late it is. I love that he’ll split dessert with me. I love that he lets me pick me the movie—every time. I love that he offers me my choice of the aisle seat or the window. I love that he holds the door for me. I love that he always walks on the curb side. I love when we travel that he’ll take care of getting us there. I love that he thinks things through. I love that scary movies scare him. I love that he likes the bed made.

And, in those rare moments in a busy life, when the worries, expectations, and next day preparations fall by the side and leave the consciousness, I can feel him. Really feel him. Deep in my heart. Nestled in my soul. Right where he belongs. I love you, Eric. Today and always.

Happy Anniversary Boobie!

 

1st Day of School

What is it about the first day of school that turns the melancholy of summer’s end into excitement about glue dots and colored binders?  Kids across the world—many right here in my own family—had 1^st days of school from kindergarten to graduate school and everything in between this week. Facebook was abuzz with pictures, and comments , and reminiscing. Everyone was excited—parents and kids alike—as they embarked on another year of school. Is it the prospect of adventure? Is it the idea of a “new beginning”? Is it a way of keeping track of time, marking the milestones?

 I can remember the first day of kindergarten for my three kids like it was yesterday. For me, it is akin to those nature videos of the mamma bird gently pushing her babies out of the nest as she seemingly says, “Fly, little one, fly!” You get them dressed. You make sure they have all the right supplies. You review things like phone numbers, and teacher’s name, and bus numbers. You tuck a note inside their lunch. You secretly wish for them all the wonder that is the world we live in. The first day of school is like the beginning of their life. It’s no longer yours alone to manage alone. You’re releasing them to the world to become their own person. It’s exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.

Eric made Christopher his favorite breakfast the morning of his first day of kindergarten. Both Chris and Eric were excited and nervous, but I think Eric cried more when it was time to say good-bye. Nicholas fussed about his outfit on his first day. We had vacationed in Ocean City that summer, and I had taken the boys to Frontier Town. Nick insisted on wearing his cowboy hat, vest, sheriff’s badge and gun belt. We tried to explain that it wouldn’t be allowed in school, much to his chagrin. We finally talked him in to just wearing the gun belt—sans the gun. Natasha couldn’t speak English so I was very anxious on her first day. I was more worried for the teachers than her, though. I made sure they knew the Russian words for things like “bathroom,” “eat,” “drink,” “yes” and “no” so they could respond to her basic needs.  I should have taught them “stop,” “get down,” “get back here,” and “don’t eat that”! Apparently, as I sift through the memories that time has made funny, those words would have served them better. Alas, Natasha started kindergarten AGAIN, the following September.

I don’t know what they remember about their first day of school. I know I can’t remember mine. I do know that the years flew by in a flurry of other firsts, all recorded with a photograph or scrapbook page. Today, Natasha starts her senior year at Patterson Mill High School, Chris starts his graduate program in Singapore, and Nicholas starts a new position at his job. No special breakfast. No fight over clothes. No cheat sheet for the teachers. They may not be parent picture-taking firsts any more, but exciting firsts none-the-less! First graduating class to attend all four years of the new high school. First time living abroad. First time supervising other employees. New. Different. Scary. Tolerable.  However time decides to define them for my kids, there’s no denying that the excitement of their new firsts will be memorable—at least for me.

My wish for them is a life full of moments as exciting as their firsts! 

What do you take for granted?

Your spouse's kiss at the end of the day? Your child's perfunctory "I love you" as they go to bed? Getting in your car to run an errand? Turning on the light switch when it's dark? Opening a can of your favorite soda?

Watch these 3 short videos:

1. NICK VUJICIC 
2. SERMONSPICE
3. THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE  HOME

Whether it's something you have, something you can do, or someone you love, there are a million things we take for granted every day. We don't mean to. But "life" get's in the way of living all the time. When you watch these videos, maybe you will stop for a moment to remember what's important. For me, each one had a message of love and gratitude that I will work hard to live every day. There's no dress rehearsal in life. Each day is what you make it.

Nick Vujicic reminded me to not take myself for granted--or to take myself too seriously. To create a happy hopeful world that I live in by seeking the joy in every situation. To find gratitude in what I CAN and HAVE accomplished--not what I haven't. To inspire people and surround myself with those who inspire me. To laugh, to smile, and not be afraid.

The SermonSpice video reminded me to be mindful and grateful for people who give of themselves. People who act without incentive and sacrifice without regret. It reminded me to say "thank you." It also reminded me to be grateful for the wisdom that comes with age AND the naiveté of youth. Without both there'd be no tomorrow for the fear of the known or unknown alone would stop us cold.

There's No Place Like Home reminded me that you should never take love for granted. Love of a spouse. Love of a parent. Love of a child. Love of a friend or family member. When you watch the video, pay special attention to the scenes where the parent surprises the child. There's no hesitation from the children once they realize what is happening. They leap. They run. They cry. They cling. Those are the ones that got to me the worst. For me, there's enough love in that one final moment before their feet leave the floor that if captured would envelope the world in a warmth and peace it's never known. That's the feeling I want to carry in my heart every day of my life. That's the feeling I don't want to take for granted. When you know that feeling, you are blessed.

I am blessed. 

My Favorite Natasha Saying #2

July 2005

Natasha was listening to news radio as she was dressing for school one morning. The host was discussing the nomination of Judge Roberts to the Supreme Court. Natasha asked me if I knew about this and what it meant to which I replied, "Yes. President Bush named Judge Roberts as a replacement for one of the other judges who is retiring." My brief moment of parental pride to my daughter's apparent interest in current events was shattered when Natasha then asked, "Which one? Judge Judy or Judge Joe Brown?"

Natasha M. Rebbert

Since I write about her so often, I thought I should post a picture. I took this today after we got home from having her SENIOR yearbook picture taken. The picture below was her fist "official" photo in her life--her Russian passport. Beautiful then. Beautiful now. How did I get so lucky??!!