Dear Bully

Dear Bully,

I know that you didn't intend the harm that you did today at recess. I am sure that it was derived out of ignorance and your inability to yet put yourself in someone else's shoes. If you knew how much my child had already endured in their short time on earth, I know that you would not have said the things you said. Surely, you fail to realize that I held this child, hugging me tightly until they were so tired of crying that they were exhausted and needed sleep more than their mama's hugs. See, my children's story is hard. Real. Hard. More difficult than most issues a lot of people face in their entire lives. My children live their story every day. Staring into faces that do not reflect their own. Having a snapshot of our family that only entices more questions. I know you don't understand that it must be hard; to you it is only different. But different is SO. Very. Good. 

My daughter can make someone laugh to the point of choking; her spirit of fun lights every room she enters. My son. Wow. Talk about the life of the party. He is the most energizing hours I've ever spent. You only see them in a school setting and you miss out on all the beautiful that they bring to my life. 

Which is why tonight was so difficult. Gut-wrenching as I watched my child recount their day to me and then you came up. You, as someone we've never had in our home, never had the opportunity to know. You were a very big topic in our house tonight. And for the first several hours after: I wanted to punch you in the mouth. I know that I am an adult and you, but a child, but the mama bear in me came out. 

But then I started praying for you. Most fervently praying for you and your home life. I pray that you are as cherished and adored as the child that I comforted tonight. Sobbing, through their tears, they could not have told you how much they love to make people laugh, the hurt that they have undertaken in their lifetime or the pain that learning everything new in a new world and a new language might effect someone. You weren't there to see the pain and agony you caused by your lack of understanding and grace. 

I pray that your parents spent their blood, sweat, money and tears to bring you into this world only to tell you each and every day that you are one of the most amazing gifts that the world has ever been received. Because you see, adopted or not, our child, the one you reduced to tears tonight, the adopted daddy and I; we fought for these kids. Traveled miles and spent money that we didn't have for these kids and for you to diminish that in anyway; well tonight, I'm chalking it up to your age and your ignorance. And I'm praying that your parents fought that hard for you. So that one day you will know what a gift to this world that you really are and you will stop using words and actions to hurt others; ALL who are considered gifts to those who love them.

Love, 

A Very Heartbroken Mama 

Dear Trevor Knight

Trevor,

We don't know each other. We have little in common but for our Oklahoma addresses. You would know nothing about me and truthfully, though I'm a graduate of The University of Oklahoma and an avid football fan, until last night, I knew very little about you. I am the mother of a 5 year old son. He has been acclimated to football since his adoption four years ago. Living in the Bible belt, it was expected that we redefine their definition of "American football", as 'football' in Ethiopia is the American equivalent to soccer.  It didn't take long to make him a believer. My husband has worn black and gold as a Saints fanatic since childhood and I ate oysters at Acme once and fell in love with a city that never gives up. 

So between OU Saturdays and Saints Sundays, our kids have become overrun with football. While he still loves soccer, the five year old has been asking for the last two years to play on a team. The fan in me is ready to sign him up, but the Mom in me has countless reasons to say "not yet".  Safety concerns, his age and the aggressiveness of the overall sport will make me keep searching for flag football teams for several more years to come. 

But there is another aspect of the game with which I struggle. As with most high profile positions and situations in life, the bad seem to dominate the headlines and unfortunately are most of what my kids see. Players and actors making news primarily for their wrong choices and not the right ones. Last night Allstate honored players at half time for their activism off the football field and last night you were rewarded for all your hard work on the field. 

What struck me when it was all over and the mics were crammed in your face was not your stats, it was your humility, your grace. It was absolutely refreshing to watch. Completely reminded me of a mutual hero, Drew Brees. It made me want to hug your mama. 

And while my five year old tuckered out before halftime, you can be sure next season when Sooner Nation dones your jersey because of your on field actions, there's a 5yr old in OKC who will done one because of your off field moves. 

Hugs, 

A Future Football Mama 

2013 in Pictures.

I had so much fun writing my tribute to 2013 last night that I couldn't help pulling up some of my favorite pics from this last year. So for one more blog post, indulge me as I relive our 2013.

We traveled to see old friends.

Walter tried to make a new one. 

Two of our favorites moved back closer to home and The Dinosaur lost his mind.

We grew!

And did this:

And grew some more!

I have no words for this one.

We took off to the beach.

Became super heroes. 

Fell in love all over again.

Started Kindergarten.

And closed the year with making it to our 1st Thunder basketball game. 

Thanks again 2013.

Dear 2013!

Dear 2013,

          Thank you for blessing us with your presence. I am so grateful for all the time you allotted to my little family these previous 365 days. It was an honor denied to several we loved and lost this year and we do not reflect back on the gift of the present lightly. While your brother 2014, is currently among us, The Andrews Clan wanted to take a minute to personally thank you...2013. There were laughs and tears, screams of cries and peals of laughter. A fun vacation made better by having out of town friends arrive the day after we returned for a week long adventure of friend fun. There was wine and whining, winning at game night and losing at friendships and yet through it all, we were together. 

          The Hero and I were blessed by a work/play trip to the beach and the kids were slathered all year by family members who adore them well. We lost a beloved family member this year too 2013. Our beloved fur baby Bentley, the start and witness of The Hero and I's relationship and one of the only ones who knew us from the beginning. He is missed daily and The Dinosaur still gets confused and to why Bentley won't leave Heaven for an afternoon and come visit. Honestly, sometimes I wonder that too. 

           There were ticks up the growth charts and pounds added to the scale (parents included) and while the sadness of us all aging is real, it is also more proof that we are blessed. 

            Again 2013, you have my purest thanks. While I am excited for whatever our future brings, you were definitely one for the books and we were honored to be with you. 

Sincerely,

The Andrews

The Best Kind of Fairy Tale.

There are a lot of challenges to being a divorce attorney. I meet some of the best people at the worst times in their lives. Emotions run high on both sides and I often remind my clients that my job is to not be the emotional one, but to bring calm to where I can. I am entering into my tenth year of practice. I am impressed I've been able to do anything for ten years, especially in such a highly emotionally charged field.
Also, in just a few days, The Hero and I will celebrate nine years of marriage. Being married and surrounded by so much divorce sometimes has its advantages. I think it has given me a good barometer of what is worth fighting about and what is better to just let go. The Hero and I also are a great balance for one another's personalities.

My father use to be fond of saying that when most of the struggle is gone out of a marriage, most of the fun is as well. That resonates for me. The first real fight The Hero and I had, he was terrified that I would call it quits. After the situation had mellowed and we had asked for one another's forgiveness, we acknowledged that if we were going to get gray together, another disagreement was bound to occur. And we were worth fighting for, as long as we were respectful and didn't mistake passion for being personal. If the last nine years had been sunshine and roses and The Hero rode home from work on a white horse, I would still love him. But it has been watching him and struggling through the hard times with him that have deepened my respect and love for him. We know so much more about one another because there have been hard times and we are more confident than ever that we are worth fighting for.

While the world throws so much temptation our way and is consistently reminding us that I will never look like a supermodel and The Hero and I are exhausted from work, kids and bills at the end of every day. Sometimes we take the bait. We debate about buying something we don't need, just because it's cool or we believe for an instant that we "need" it. I struggle with my self-esteem on days when I remember I'm not the size I was nine years ago. We grumble as we hit the couch after an entire day of not seeing each other and barely touching. But when we steal kisses and our kids gag, when he brews my favorite pot of coffee or when I hear a client describe a horribly abusive marriage, I am reminded that we are living a fairy tale. I don't think Cinderella had a mortgage on her castle, but for us a house with a mortgage means we are blessed to be working and two kids at soccer means they are healthy enough for sports. And curling up together at the end of a long day is a reminder that after nine years, it isn't always bliss, but it is most definitely a fairy tale. 

This Mama's Boy

I wonder if all parents have ridiculous expectations of their children.

I know I did. 

Ok. 

Most days, I still do. 

Adopting The Angel and The Dinosaur was The Hero & I's first foray into the world of parenting.

I had amazing hopes and dreams.

Crayons, giggles, painting toe nails, family vacations, attachment with cuddles and perfect family pictures.

When we discovered from our referral that we would have not one child but two, I was elated. 

I secretly hoped our little boy would be a mama's boy.

I was devastated to learn that our son was anything but. 

Daddy was needed for everything. 

Sports, cutting his steak, tying his shoes, watching him do a number of jumps off our furniture. 

He only asked for one person.
 

Daddy.
 

It was like a cuss word to me in our house. 

Almost four years later, The Dinosaur is still Daddy obsessed.
 

Daddy is still requested for almost everything.
 

Except in the still of the morning when no one else is awake but he and I. 

When he grabs a blanket and asks to be cuddled just a little longer. 

When tired still grips him and he takes me by the hand to help him get dressed. 

Or when he wants to be swaddled after a bath and asks if I'll sit next to him.

Nights when he can't fall asleep and he asks for me to hold his hand until he closes his eyes.

These are the moments I treasure the most.
 

And although sometimes it does hurt that in public he defers to Daddy always,

I'll keep his little secret.
 

I heard the amazing Kristen Howerton lead a small breakout session at Idea Camp back in September and she discussed how attachment for adopted children is different that what we normally think it should look like for biological kids.
That attachment isn't always hugs and cuddles.

The relief I felt in that moment was three and a half years of guilt flowing out of me.
I fought back tears as she described the expectations we have for our adoptive children.
And WE want it to look/feel/be a certain way.
 

He and I's relationship is supposed to look different. 

Because it is different. 

I am still his mama. 

And he is still my son.

And THAT makes him this mama's boy.
 

November: National Adoption Month

November is National Adoption Month. 

Oklahoma has a great website that highlights children currently 

legally available for adoption and are waiting for a family in the State. 

As we enter the holiday season, please use this time of Thanksgiving to pray over those who

are without this holiday season.

Oklahoma's website is: http://www.heartgalleryofoklahoma.com/

And the National Photo list of children available for adoption can be found at:

www.adoptuskids.org