The birthday still in my heart

My three fave pictures of kiddo on his birthday!!!

Because  I know tomorrow will be hard and sorting through my emotions with a concussion even more, I sit in the quiet today and try to just let the wonder of my son and his excitement for life flow. Last night we saw a falling star, clear , steady in course. I am sure it was kiddo , giving us the reminder he is still with us.

Tomorrow December 27th , our baby should be turning 20. More than any holiday or lost night wandering the house searching for him, this day hurts the most. Birthdays the celebration of life and creation. And here it is my crisis of faith again : knowing my son is eternally safe and loved and knowing him , having himself one big glitter dance party, and yet I want my son here, I want to see my son become the man he was destined to be.

Michael more than anything loved his birthday. We talked about it once: after years of being in care where you were never celebrated , never felt wanted anywhere, to have family and friends be there because he existed was pretty cool to him .His birthdays were a validation to his heart  that he did the right thing by never giving up and holding hope his tribe was out there .

In some ways with birthdays we did go overboard, they were in our way the way of making up for years of crappy foster care birthdays. .We made it about him for several days. His first party started the tradition. It was in some ways magical. we had a to be 17 year old acting in some ways like 6. His self and inner Michael running in joy . Much like a toddler going "i want a batman cake, no a dinosaur cake, no a minion cake, the picking out of the cake could have made any bridezilla jealous. What other kids took for granted, picking out your own cake, he had never had. When he could not decide , we bought both .You would have thought we just handed him a million dollars. I remember him saying but mom my cakes are not you or dads favorite. Baby we told him, that is  fine , its about you today, what you like. His beaming could have lit up a small village.

Getting ready for his first party was epic proportions. Since we had so many people coming we rented out a room at a local pizza place.. No one would ever know but he fretted so hard before the party.The kid whose 16th birthday was cake with a foster parent thats it, did not really believe folks were going to show . He changed outfits about 6 times and paced until we got in the car and picked up Brandon and Arik.It was a great night , about 30 people, pizza, cake , laser tag and then his buddies sleeping over.Each time we had these milestones you could see the parts of my sons heart that had gone dark form lack of nurturing light up, each time it created a better part of him he shared with all of us .

The next year , still epic. And we began what he told us was his birthday tradition. Family and friends party , then him off to cerebrate with his buddies. but always mom he said  first with you and dad and grandma and everyone.We spent 3 hours before his party getting his tattoo and him then finding a shirt to hide said tattoo from grandma at the party. Still pizza , still laser tag but the next day out dancing with friends.

This past year not so great , we had just came home from losing my mom and experiencing family freeze . Mike did not want to have a party , he loved my mom  his grandma in a way I do not think he understood and he just wanted low key.We kept the tradition low key: dinner with dad and I then he went and hung with friends. His sadness over mom was that he had not known my mom for long but was enamored with her as much she to him. But we kept our tradition time with us then time with friends. Next year mom he would say , we are whooping it  up. I think after my pizza party and friends we should all go to Seattle for a day and dad and I can take pics.Next year it will be amazing.

If you take nothing else away form our life with Michael please take this : no matter how blessed you feel , life is not guaranteed. Good people die before you are ready . Dont take these days for granted We thought we had this year, we were wrong.

I know with Leonard Cohen, Prince and George Michael gone, kiddo is having one heck of a party tomorrow.,  Dad and I maybe not so much. For me the loss on his birthday is the loss of time with me son. I do not get to hold him, hug him, hear him, smell his cologne , watch him dig for outfits. I do  not see him achieve his goal of being a trauma nurse, graduate college. i never get to be mother of the groom, grandma, the mother in law. Selfish I know but they all stem from watching my son have milestones I wanted so badly for him .

So today let me introduce you to what Michael achieved this year , what gifts he had before he turned 20. Some  he shared some he just did.

• He aced organic chem 
• He decided that because of his moves in care he did not have an internal structure needed to compete in nursing school. He researched, applied and was accepted into a medical tech program in WA to get a leg up before he went into his nursing programs.He would have been 6 months in this month.
• He gave blood twice this year
• He volunteered at 2 homeless youth events 
• He began not to just listen to opera but study it 
• Just in what I knew with him he has bought lunch for folks on the street 15 times.
• He was actively addressing his PTSD from childhood abuse
• He was steadfast in his promise that if he was unable to drive he would text me and tell me he was staying the night
• He kept a friend from committing suicide
• He jumped into the dating pool
• He began perform drag and went dancing every chance he got 
• He found a job he enjoyed with people he enjoyed 
• He learned to change his tire, his oil and his headlight
• He began not to just reconnect with his sisters but know them on a deeper relationship
• He no longer feared his bio sperm donor
• He created a recipe for salt and vinegar fish tacos which is freaking awesome
• He had more than one of his moms friends wrapped around his finger enough to get them to make him pozole anytime he smiled and begged
• He was learning to sew
• Apparently he rocked a pair of camo ledderhosen 
• He saw Rocky Horror 2 times
• He still held Ty or my hand out in public
• He still hugged us both 
• He taught OZ to sit and wait for his food.
• He saw grandma and papa wayne at least once a week 
• He was starting to run again
• He had began to edit alot of his pictures in Photoshop and created some amazing art, he would just take off with his camera and capture what captured him
• I know he had at least 2 but probably more nights him and friends slept in the car at the beach , just to hear the ocean and see a sunrise.
• He and I healed the biggest fight we ever had. He admitted to me that at times he did not know what to do with how much I loved him , dad loved him. He said if his bio threw him aside , why did I stay. He told me I was his real mother point blank and he was testing me to see if I really would always stay. I passed.
• He became Ty's biggest supporter telling him not to cave in and be happy and be himself or Mike would be mad at him .
• A friend told us after he passed that he did not move out like he planned. he told us the deal fell through, the friend he was renting from told us  he told her he changed his mind. he was not ready he wanted to stay with his parents longer, he still wanted to be with us . 
• He lived a life that had challenges and sadness, he liked at times the drama but in the end his desire to be present in life always trumped the crap .
• He is amazing, he is our baby 

Requiem for my Mother and Michael's Grandma

my last  picture of mom I have  I  see the grief from losing dad and still smile as she is wearing what see always called blind gypsy chic jammies

In two days, my mother will have been gone for a year. She passed away suddenly in her sleep, 89 days after we lost my father. Ironically our family had always prepared ourselves that if mom went first, dad was soon to follow. My dad, the wear your heart on your sleeve guy, made no bones he could not function without her. My mistake was my mom was more aloof but deep in her love but when he died, I really saw who she lived for. After my dad passed, mom lived with us for about 2 weeks while my brother got their place in California ready. I would hear her at night, after seeing her worn but still standing, talking to him .It was the most heartbreaking thing I ever heard and the most intimate pieces of their relationship, I was ever privy too. Her life was going on but not with him and she could not make sense of it. It was a frantic place for her trying to be strong but her heart just laid our flat for grief and God. It never in my wildest dreams occurred to me that 6 months later, I would be having the same conversations of loss, on my son’s bed willing him beyond hope to walk through the door. Even more devastating, my pleas to mom and dad, especially mom to help me live through this, were also conversations with ghosts and no answers. Most of the time , I am glad they are all together in the next life but sometimes so angry they left me to what at times feels like the wolves. I will not celebrate my parents 60th anniversary, dad getting a cancer free diagnosis, my son growing up, getting married. I will never be a mother or a grandmother to a child on earth. And the one person who knows me for my whole life, the good, the bad, the fucked up, the awesome, is now a conversation to nowhere in the still of the night. I lost my child and I want my mom to help me survive this.

Ironically though they did not spend a lot of time together, Mike and my mom were tight. Tight in that way that I was always like hmmm where is the pod with my mom? My mom did not cook, bake or be the “bestie” of her daughter. But she loved in a very straightforward way. She always said what was on her mind and she was always there for me, even when others gave up. Her love was whole and in some ways hurt me, she was so afraid of losing me that she did cave to various doctors who put me on large amounts of meds that we now know are bad for teens, damaged my liver and wreaked havoc on me. She taught me to keep it all a secret from folks, so they would not think badly of me. But hiding that secret, those meds, those effects, how they actually made me more insane than they helped, blew up my world, wiped out part of memories of childhood. We talked about it as I got older and it killed her knowing that drug after drug was causing me more and more violent reactions, but she trusted the doctors who were in fact wrong. I never blamed her because my mother with no medical background, she was trying to keep me safe. It was the wrong path but as I learned being Michael’s mom, sometimes you mess up out of love. In my mid 20’s she was terrified when I finally said no to the meds and terrified that she would lose me. She became more devastated when nothing happened, I became more level, more cognizant, and more Rachel than I had been in a decade.  She felt she had failed me and I spent years letting her know I was ok now and that’s all the mattered, When she came to Eugene and met with a top psychiatric doctor and me, she cried to learn that misdiagnosis back in my teen years was not uncommon and I showed no symptoms of bipolar disorder. The rapid cycling bipolar with stints of psychosis were in fact not organic to my brain chemistry  but the side effects of being on Lithium, Depakote, Trazadone, Paxil, Prozac and so many others when my body did not need them. They in fact caused the moods they feared and instead of stepping back the answer was always up the dosage. It took a long time for her to forgive herself, I was never mad at her. She did what moms bullied by doctors do, reacted to the threat and tried to keep her kid alive. I loved her more for helping me save myself. And I knew she always had my back.

So this very matter of fact, speak your mind kind of mom, became this gooey gooey mess with my son. I think she really saw his wounds deep in his heart and something about him brought our huggy grandma. My son in some ways was an open book, full of love. He sucked at lying or deception and while he thought at times he was getting over, he fooled very few. This led to a lot of very uncomfortable conversations at time about what was going on in his life, what he was doing. What he was not. It did make us stronger because we could get through those tough things to love. However my son was a child who grew up in no safety, no permanent love. He was as a small child abused and abandoned in horrific ways and as a teen left to rot in a system. He did not become bitter or a victim, yet there was a part of Michael that would always be his, his wounded little boy was never going to share that again. We talked about it once, ending in tears for both of us. I never felt cheated, I knew this was safety piece for him. But I always believed he would live long enough to figure out how to unlock it.

My mother came the closest to unlocking that piece even for a minute. Mike loved grandma’s no filter and no bs approach to life. My mother was always also the honey for gay men, they flocked to her mainly because she would care less about who they slept with and I think had some Bette Davis charm. But at times she would simply disarm him. In the most gentle voice ever, she would come up behind him and just say “Michael I just need to hug you, Love you so much , you are so much .” and she would just hold him and stroke his hair. My son’s eyes always gave him away. When my mom did that to him, every time I saw the eyes of a toddler. For those who have toddlers you know those eyes, full of wonder and joy in the moment. She for a minute could get into kiddos no fly zone. I loved her for that and that my mother just believed in finding happiness, sometimes she sacrificed it in her own life so she wanted it for me. If she ever had any qualms about her lesbian daughter and now trans gendered partner adopting a 16 year old gay male, she never shared it with us. Her only request was could Ty have his name Tim instead easier for her, of course. She said as a family we made sense and in her heart Michael was always supposed to be all of ours. She would tell me, I only have had him for 3 years but Rachel I love that child so much, my heart just melts around him. Mike was planning in February with her to go to California and spend just a weekend them together. He was saving money to take her to the beach.

I have seen Mike cry a few times in our life but the sobs when grandma passed, he was incoherent for about 2 hours. When I went in to say goodbye to mom at the funeral home, my child became a man and he held his mom up while I fell apart holding my mom for one last time. 6 months later when I fell apart holding my child in the mortuary, I had a distinct feeling they were both there physically keeping me standing and willing me to breathe.

My mom was a damn good mom, not perfect but mine. The things she did with me that mattered: open door communication even if it was sucks, unconditional love, unconditional support: I kept those pieces and used them to help my son blossom and find himself. The things that did not work I used as growth when I became a mom. I never took for granted what an “expert “told us about our son. We learned together what he needed, what worked and fought to find options and not make decisions out of fear.

I talk about missing Michael a lot and it’s not for lack of missing mom and dad. However I look at trauma from a new school of therapy which is essence illumination. Studies show that emotional trauma in the body really lasts for about 90 seconds. If you can allow that pain to pass through you, it helps you heal. When we fear the pain it gets trapped in our bodies and we replay it in detriment to ourselves. I do a lot of daily 90 second breakdowns about Michael, sometimes hourly. The release when the heartbreak and rage comes keeps me standing, keeps me functioning, keeps me keeping his love in me, and keeps me alive. Combining all 3 losses is something that is so physically painful that in working that out I have lost my voice for few hours or have dry heaved blood. My parents and child may now be celestial beings, but I am still human and the combined loss at this time does not flow throw but tears holes like bullet piercing armor. Like Mike, I am always ware of mom gone. No weekly phone calls, so 6 am I just want to vent to you calls. No hearing “how are you my love’ No mom. My son shares a lot in common with my mom, meet them once and you never forget them. I love you mom, I miss you mom and if you ever had any misgiving just like I was the mom Michael needed, you were the mom created for me. I love you and miss you so much, take care of kiddo for me , ok .

I go back to our first real christmas

Michael’s stocking is 3 times larger than mine or Tys, blue sequins, fur trim. It is the hard to contain joy that was Michael. Like us all he had his dark times, lost thoughts, feelings of less than. But his heart was joy and that often filtered over the brain, the overthinking, the past loss.

Watching a child who had holidays in almost 25 different places, with often strangers, with people who treated him different than their own children, is a lesson in being present in the moment. Michael's last Christmas before us, was so hard. We knew about him and paperwork was moving but he had no idea we were out here, waiting and praying for him. My babies last Christmas in foster care was in some ways harder for us, he had adjusted to institutional holiday cheers,  but we knew we were moving to bring him home and I just wanted to be with him , have him feel our love, let him know he would never be without family again. I cried that first holiday without him because I yearned for the child alone in North Dakota. This year I cry because I yearn for my son, this time though he is safe with God, my mother, my father and Ty’s dad. He is in love and support. It is now us, feeling the emptiness, not sure how to be in this moment, be without you this holiday. If tears could form a river truly, dad and I would have wept enough to flow to heaven to see you several times over. 

To not self-destruct this season, I am opening the heart and floodgate to the deepest parts of memory about your first Christmas home. For most people the thought was we created this wonderful life version of Christmas, big, flashy for him. We did not, instead we focused on using some of my families’ traditions building on them. Like any teen he liked stuff, swag but for him his anxiety showed in he just wanted us, the family, traditions and memories that were finally his, never to leave. 

From making cookies to trimming a tree (complete with his chosen Halloween lights too) he just wanted us close. He wanted to absorb his family and make his mark in it. From using his great grandma Marion sugar cookie recipe to  pacing until everyone hot here for Christmas eve dinner , his moments very so very focused on what sales, and stress, and consumerism sometimes take out of us. His love was in feeling where he was, how he was with and connecting in deep moments. At 16 he had in national average less than a 5% chance of finding his family. We found each other that is a miracle. His first Christmas and all our others always brought us back to power of family. That in the end family, your tribe, not always blood but your people, we stay no matter what. Last year, kiddo and I had a big fight around the holiday, it was bad. But mom died, and our Christmas Eve was spent in a hotel in Calif , cut off by other family and seeing grandma at the funeral home for one last time.  But again as we mourned my mother and his grandma, Mike and I came back to love and again he learned that there was nothing he could do that would change my love for him. This year I am without them both, but they together and my love for both still as fresh as yesterday.

But I always wander back to his first holiday and how it has set the tone for each milestone in our life. Michael gaining more confidence that we are where he always had a safe landing of love, we are his parents and family. We are always his, and he ours. That we were given a child who was raise literally with very little and for most times without true love, safety or security. Yet instead of making him cold, his heart expanded to others in a divine way. My son was not religious, just figuring out his spirituality, but there was alight of God deep in my child, he just did not know the words for that.

I found a Facebook post from our first Christmas that set the tone for how Mike looked at the holiday season. Each year kiddo did a lot of random acts of kindness, many never advertised, quietly leaving presents, buying a solider a meal etc. Him just wanting to share the peace he had in his heart.

The post:

Ok there are so many reasons I love my kid but one of my favorite things is the empathy, kindness and love that the system could never suck out/beat out of him. Ty works this Christmas day, Mikes idea first we are doing serving at a shelter then we adopted a group home and are doing a secret elf bombing of gifts and stockings. The system did not raise my son, the love and light in his soul is all Mike !!!!

My son’s first Christmas his actual favorite gift was a

 hat knitted by Aunt Miranda. I found it recently, still smelling of my kiddo and I smiled. I have included picture of the first Christmas. I look at them and smile because of the pure radiance emitting from him. In this picture I see my 16 year old but I also see 3 year old mike, 5 year old mike, and 10 year old mike. My baby’s inner child getting his needs met, coming out of the shadows and sharing light.

Folks have asked me what they can do to make our

 holiday easier. In truth just the ask is enough, the thoughts for us because what I want I can never have again on this life. But what you can do is just be in the moment, be the magic my son finally got. Stop worrying about if the tree is perfect, if your child needs one more gift, or if someone is saying happy holidays or merry Christmas. That’s all just noise. For us be in the minute of the lights twinkling at night, your child’s laughter and that a stranger engaged in kindness or in vocabulary. Stop being consumed by stress, or petty dogma, see the people in your life because when they are gone tinsel and gifts are for naught.

Michael one day I can  celebrate again , this year 

though my heart is too heavy , the weight  of losing you too crushing but to help mom out , have God give extra blessing to our friends and family this season.

We love you son

Baby's First Tattoo and what's drawn on my soul

This month our son should be turning 20. Its surreal , I have said it before , to know you’re going to age and change , yet your loved one , a non malicious portrait of Dorian Grey on your wall. I should be getting ready to drive to Washington, to pick Michael up from his med tech program, reserving space for his birthday, and most likely checking out his new tattoo. With the anniversary of losing mom 3 days before Christmas and your birthday the day after, kiddo all I want to do is blow off bills and get a tattoo on your birthday. Shit we all know I would tattoo every memory of you onto my soul if I could. You’re already there but I think you would appreciate the artistic touch.

You liked hearing tattoo stories, especially that both dad and I have many and that it makes grandma nut. My first tattoo cracked you up because it came from an early love in my life, my first boyfriend. You loved that your die hard lesbian mom had boyfriends and that she did care for them and in the end, I had a boyfriend again. And that love was now your dad. You liked that I understood having a cool first tattoo. Mine for me was a reminder, I kept so many secrets from friends and loved ones as a teen. I thought the insanity I never talked about or shared was mine to bear because I was somehow less than. I kept those secrets in silence for years and paid dearly for it, so did others when the shrapnel exploded. But that ink, it always reminded me that in that mess, there was lovely lovely moments with some beautiful folk.

Since before you came home, you loved to talk tattoos. We knew the day you turned 18, you were getting inked. So like any responsible parents we wanted to make sure, that first ink did not suck. To be honest I loved watching your process, an 800 dollar tattoo budget is the stuff of dreams. I loved watching your brain work. You spent days going back to old sketchbooks, looking at different stages of the drawing that became your first piece. Talking to the tattoo artist, revamping your design. In the beginning your piece was a bit darker, torn flesh and such. You went more for a mechanic version, clean sharper. I asked you about the change and you told me, the cleaner lines made you feel more like you, moving ahead, no scars. It was your art on you and for you that piece made sense.

You thought I was weird, I know taking 3 million pictures of babies’ first tattoo. Look I did not get the first bath or kindergarten, I needed to document my baby’s milestones that were as unique as our family. I just recently learned in conversations with Lisa, that you really loved these. You knew I was mom and that was great. I never knew until after you were gone and it was shared with me that in those moments little Michael was getting his needs of mommy met. I am honored that I was part of your journey to manhood and that with love and safety you bloomed. But I am honored that my love touched the little lost child in you too. I love my artist and that your first piece was with dad and I, and a great story and memory for it.

My child had 2 other tattoos. His infinity spiral and his haunter. We had the mortician take some up close pics of the spiral. It is the tattoo you wanted all three of us to get, our family crest if you will; A sign of balance: representative of the bridge or the passage between heaven and earth. Eternal spiritual love. Again given our life circumstance, I think kiddo what did you somehow know without knowing. This year you wanted dad and I to get it from you for Christmas and you get some more design around yours from us, on your birthday. Just a simple family outing. Dad and I will be getting this ink but I need to do it when I know I won’t weep through it. You my child are my infinity, my bridge between heaven and earth, our purest love.

Your last tattoo was in fact the last. I was your haunter. Before Pokémon go, my child was an animae fan, big time. We spent many nights him trying to explain the cartoons to me and me tormenting him by asking “is that a Pikachu? I see that tattoo a lot now. Dad, got one. And in acts of love and remembrance your friends have a mini army of haunter ink. Some pastel, some classic, some over the heart, in your spot, on the leg. All bearing slight and bittersweet tweak RIP MIKEY. You always worried, as the foster kid who never got to have friends, in your new life would you? You were loved so much child that people put memories of you on their body, you are a person they never want to lose.

I get that. I have not gotten a tattoo in over 15 years. But then my son drew me one, celebrating us as family. You again drew and re drew until the end result showed what was in your heart, hearts, flowers and a simple “family is forever”. Your art and your handwriting on me forever. On my skin like in my soul: bright, vibrant, beautiful and with so much life.

We love you kiddo, every day  

                    

my journey to mom, mom , MOM!!!!!!!

even when it was a exasperated moooooooooooooom, I loved hearing my son call me mom. I put in a lot of work and self healing , growth to get myself to the place to deserve the honor of that title . For us it was more than a word , for my son it was an evolution of learning a meaning behind a word . That certain words had power that he never believed would be for him.Just like I was never sure I would hear it applied to me, he never thought he would apply it with heart. We did good for two lost souls.

Mike had a lot of "moms". Sadly once he turned 7 he stopped thinking of his bio as mom and just used her name, That to me is a tragedy not just for Michael but the woman who by circumstance or choice missed one amazing kid. But 24 homes in 10 years he had a lot of people who wanted him to call them mom, sadly none of them mothered him . The foster system that fails children , sadly failed my son year after year. Mom was word , a person who had control over his life and control to unroot , unnerve or send him away. That my friends is the suckiest word association ever.

Before Ty was dad, we originally told Mike he did not have to call us mom until he wanted to . For the first time it was on his terms .I won't lie , it was hard and weird to be so in love with your child and have to restrain yourself, to let him come to you. To have him believe you are different than every other mom that came in and often wrecked him.He was my son from day one , him seeing us a parents not caregivers took a bit.I prayed those first few months to give me the strength to go slow , to not overwhelm him, to let him see through actions not words that he had us forever.

The first time he called me mom took me by surprise. It had been Rachel pretty steadily and sadly "mom sandy" ( his foster mom) and trust me so jealous. We skyped 2-3 times a day until he came home , often for hours,watching him do homework , sharing weird teen humor and culture or just answering questions. He had sent me a link I was watching and I guess he said my name a few times while I was watching it . Than BAM he slammed his palm on the desk and said "MOM !!!!!"
He was annoyed but it was the best sound in my life , teenage angst and all.

Mike was very quick to say I love you after he came home and you could feel that love . Mom at times though seemed tentative , like something that could and had been taken away or denied. He never understood he made me a better parent because we had to learn to not parent to our preconceived notions or beliefs but instead parent to his needs of boundaries, safety and love. We parented not for us but instead parented to help him find the best version of him. Like any teen he faltered and made dumb mistakes but he was understanding that path. More importantly he wanted that.

4 months into being home kiddo had a scope done because of severe stomach pains. Sadly like many kids in prolonged care, stress had damaged his body . In care ,Mike's case notes of him "faking stomache aches for attention" turned out to be an ulcer.I am proud to say a year into his new life , his real life ,the ulcer was non issue. Babies first medical procedure and Ty and I were flipped, Mike by the way lightweight with anesthetic.After the procedure he crashed for like 6 hours  and woke up starving. I remember  saying baby what do you want ? He wanted paprikash and he thought of that as the comfort food dish that tied him to home. After he ate he came and laid on the couch and me . He looked at me and said "mom your never leaving me " My response given our reality right now stands out. " love I  am never leaving you , your ours forever this life and next "  Cool mom he said.
From that moment on when he said mom, when he said dad ,the inflection was different , there was meaning and association he never had before. A realization of us being the who in his life not that what. Mike was always meant to be ours and us his , in that moment though he understood it , his heart told him it was safe.
That was my baby's first word to me , the first time he understood the power of his word.
I thank God that he lets my son come through to me and in my heart I hear mom .

College, My Kid and a Low Carb Crunchy Chicken Recipe

In my college years,I studied anthropology with a focus on evolutionary biology and forensics. My minor: planning , public policy and management, has kept me employed my whole life ( thank you ).
What fascinated me about evolutionary biology is that as a species, we really are not very advanced. Oh we put up a great show but as this last round of politics has shown, our reptilian brain collectively is in survival mode for both teams. As a collective we are only 200,000 years old give or take, with our ancestors being 6 million years old . In the span of life, that's a drop in the primordial ooze bucket. 

Hunters and gatherers became agricultural and fixed. As we have progressed our food has become more factory and less food. We have fake liquid eggs because somehow we have convinced ourselves that the  all mighty General Mills could make it better than God and nature.Eggs are a rich source of complete, high-quality protein and essential amino acids. These acids are the building blocks of protein which is used to make nearly every tissue and organ: bones, skin, hair, digestive tract, enzymes, blood cells, antibodies, other immune cells. It also contains 14 essential nutrients needed for normal growth, development and repair. Before big factory inhumane hen houses you popped over to the coop for a few extra eggs as needed. I love the trend back to grass feed, pastured, small batch , local farms.  I am Ok eating meat but I do buy local and grass fed when I can because if an animal is dying for me, I want it to have a happy life and to lose its life as quickly as humanly as possible.

The reason I share these thoughts is a recent dream encounter with my child. For those who have loved ones visit in your sleep, you know that feeling of not just dreaming about them but having them come through the veil. Last time my son did I was really sick sleeping off a low blood sugar that for 3 hours I could not get about 59. Michael, I told him, I am so tired. Mom he said it's ok, I am ok, but it's time for you to get it together.That smarmy grin and wave, then just a flash of light. With each death this year, while I have not been depressed, I have not been engaged and my health has suffered majorly. My body is not right now a temple but an alley with back lit shady cock fights. Not good. For the mom who packed  my teens lunch every day in high school and college so he had healthy choices, I am failing myself on an epic level.

So I thought back to my healthier body. It was in my mid 20's . Real food , lower cards, lots of  veggies. Walks, hikes, swims and daily sunshine. Play. Community . It's time for me to get me back, health wise and give the gift of nutrition and movement I always wanted kiddo to have. So going back to it those younger years before my mistress was Jenny Craig ,Weight Watchers or the belief of any quick fix out there. When I used science and intuition to feed my body what it needed, to make it move the way it felt good. 

So I pulled out an old favorite from back then and made it tonight, made me smile, made me let kiddo know mom will be ok.  

Crunch Chicken with  Spinach and Kale ( keto friendly, paleo friendly, gluten free for those interested) 

1 pack of chicken tenders  6-8 

I cup pork rinds ( love Epic Bars BBQ rinds)

1 tsp coconut flour

1/2 tsp black pepper

1/2 tsp garlic

1/2 smoked paprika

1/4 tsp sriracha powder ( can substitute  cayenne) 

1 egg whisked with 5 tsps water

Take your pork rinds and all spices and either pulse in food processor until it looks like bread crumbs or for stress therapy ( I highly recommend) use a baggie and a meat mallet .

Coat tenders in egg then dust and drop into a pan with about 1/2 oil (  faves are better oils with high smoke points : avocado or peanut ( not for paleo peeps) 

Cook on both sides for 3-4 minutes until crunchy and brown , place on wire rack with towel under it to shake off any excess oil.

For greens 

3 cups spinach

2 cups Kale 

2 tsp sesame seeds 

nutmeg and lemon to taste

in frying pan heat  3 tsps of coconut oil or ghee ( I love ghee , other story lol) quickly pan toast 2 tsps sesame seeds .Sesame seeds are full of calcium, magnesium, copper, vitamin B1, zinc and dietary fiber. They offer the most nutritional value when the entire seed is used (un-hulled). Whole sesame seeds contain about 88 mg of calcium per tablespoon of seeds. Skim milk has about 300 mg , so 3 tps of great flavor can add bioavailable calcium , cool huh. Thank you vegan buddies for sharing this tip.

Add greens and cook until wilted but not soggy mess. add nutmeg and  squeeze a fresh lemon over the lot and enjoy.

The chicken is 2-3 tenders per person  , greens galore and add a a mixed green salad with other veggies and yummy. 

leftovers yum

How to be thankful 166 days in

Michael with Grandma and Papa, First Thanksgiving 2013.

166. That's the number of days since I last saw my son in flesh and blood.166 days ago I woke up to Mike stumbling about getting dressed, heading out to friends and then his sisters. Basketball shorts, Simpsons Tee, Hoodie from Mexico from Grandma. So excited becasue in 2 weeks he was gearing up to do a medical training program for a year that would give him an edge to nursing school. To be an ER nurse or work with places like Mercy Corp,. A person who wanted to run and give help in places of the world others were fleeing from. 166 days ago your singsong voice , head on my shoulder , coquettish batting eyes., "mom could we run to the market and get breakfast"For all the moms you know we meant me. But I had time before work so coffee  for me and a bean burrito and ice tea for kiddo. A hug , love you , will call you if I stay over at my sisters or friends tonight.\

Dad called later asking me to come home, saying he needed me. I asked if he was ok and he said yes just come home, I asked if you were ok , no answer. That was the first pit drop in my stomach. I texted and called you, no answer, second pit drop. In all honestly kiddo I thought there was an accident that dad was having me come home to go to the hospital or that you were home shaken with a wrecked car. I never expected the next time I saw you , the mortuary would be letting me in. I have talked with others who have lost and shared this same phenomenon , I was insane , I needed on my whole core of self to get to you. I remember very few clear details, grandma coming in with me , her sharp intake of breathe and her saying Oh Michael. I just remember holding you , stroking your hair, kissing your eyes . I saw the injuries they tried to hide from me , the damage . Someone spared us something kiddo some mercy. I felt your injuries, sadly due to social media I say the car. Somehow kiddo there were no injuries save a small bruise to your face. You were recognizable. Baby if you had to go back to God , I am thankful that it was without a doubt instantaneous.166 days ago I was thankful that my baby did not suffer . 166 days ago despite my crisis of faith, visceral searing heartache and black depth of loss, I remembered that 3 years , 5 months and 27 days my life changed in a way I could have never seen. I loved more, deeper and honestly than ever before. The sense of true joy and contentment woke up . 1274 days before that black day , God gave dad and I our greatest gift and commitment in this life, he gave us you.The reason I miss you so deeply and actually , the reason I have cried for 166 days straight , is because my son you were loved with every fiber of our beings, unconditionally without restraint or hesitation. You were and still are the child of my dreams , I worked my ass off to conquer my own shit, to grow up and become a person worthy of being a parent and my love  worthy of parenting the awesome and sometimes complicated you . 

Tomorrow starts the holiday season, I am not dreading it but not embracing it either. I know my lover of this season that may disappoint you but son , the wound is still raw. I loved how you hated commercialism or holiday or buying for buying sake. I love how for you a child who searched for us for so long , this connection to holiday plus kick ass birthdays was enough, now stocking was still your favorite part and that you would pace until the first guest :friend family or both would arrive for holiday dinner..That you would eat anything gourmet but wanted stove top stuffing. That family you never took for granted.

This year I still give thanks  to friends and family who have walked along side of Ty and I during this hell on earth. That in 166 day, people we loved and know have given us millions of reasons to continue on, room to grieve and spaces to heal I am thankful that folks let us share your stories with love and no trepidation. I am thankful because my son without you my life would have been less, diminished and always incomplete. While grieving and missing you is a daily struggle please know my child you are the piece that completed and healed moms heart . I am lost without you to be honest but always thankful  you are ours.

miss you you baby

love mom

#nomikeiam not making stovetop

#sleepinblackfriday

The speech I never thought I would have to write

On November 10th our adoption agency family will be hosting their 10year gala to celebrate over 5000 children finding forever homes. Works out to like 500  children a year who will hear  " I love you, we are here for you " once not said now said daily. One of those 5000 was our Michael. the most amazing , spectacular and beautiful part of our lives.
On this very joyous occasion our AFFEC family is honoring our son.

For me being present with the world is tough, I put up a good face but there is little under it . Friends know its hard for me to respond to emails, texts or calls. To be out and present takes all of my energy. Work right now being mainly public relations is incredibly painful. I forget names of people I have known for years. I pull over a lot because at times my driving is not safe. an ipod not syncing can send me into a rage of biblical proportions. I am not ok but bless the people in my life  who love me , you all love me anyway and watch me go bat shit crazy. And hold the rope so I don't go too far over the edge .

They are doing a lovely video of Ty and I talking about who our son was , and AFFEC staff talking about him as well. I am sure I will weep copiously at it, prepared to be warmed and shattered by it. They asked me if I would speak about our son, our journey and our agency that helped us come together. My first reaction was hell no, pop tarts make me cry right now. If I cant make it through a phone call with a friend who wants to see tears and snot trying to talk. I thought about it and realized at this dinner so many people who helped Michael come home will be there, other families who adopted the same time as us, families from our AFFEC support group and most of all maybe some family that is on the fence about adoption . Who needs to see even in this unrelenting pain , we still were blessed with the greatest joy of our life, we were blessed by being his parents. If me standing there gives one more Michael a chance to be loved like we love him , ok game on.

I am still dreading this , it scares me .I am terrified that nothing will come out. I am dreading and prepping not just for the speech but the bittersweet emotional drain this  night will take. what it will do to my depleted energy levels. But I can't say no , my kids story that love wins is pushing me out of my comfort zone . I am pissed that I should even be making a speech in memory yet again of my 19 year old , it pisses me off that life is unfair , short and fleeting. Then I remember the 4999 other kids that had these folks give family to , and how many more to come  and yes even in my grief for my kid I will put on my big girl panties and fake 10 minutes of sanity and strength .

So some of the wording may be changed but here is the speech I never should have to make in its nutshell , I am sharing it cause after it is read , I honestly may not remember it

with love kiddo , mom misses you

Ty and I joined the AFFEC family in October 2012. We had been together at that time for 5 years and while we wanted children, birth was never our plan. Adoption was not our plan B but the main plan. We in our hearts believed our child (children) were already birthed and waiting for their family to find them. We bought our house with the sole purpose of having a permanent childhood home for whoever we adopted so they had that same sense we both grew up with. So many things happened in an order that proves to us that we were meant to be Michael's parents and AFFEC was meant to be a part of creating our family. We decided to work with AFFEC because it was a nonprofit who had a strong case record in creating thriving families. As a nontraditional couple adopting, AFFEC shows it values the diversity of all families and that finding a family to match a child is more important statistics. In October 2012 we had our first orientation with our caseworker. The original plan was to begin the process in 2013. We were lucky enough to have received a scholarship for our home study that speeded up our process, thankfully. In November 2012, our matching assistance caseworker, Nora reached out and asked if we would like to be one of the December featured families. We were and it was that post that Michael's caseworker in North Dakota saw. Michael was 15 and had been in foster care in North Dakota for almost 9 years. In his birth state of Oregon he had been in foster care for 2 years. She saw our post and saw we had no age limit as we believed we would let the universe lead us to who we were meant to parent. Michael was being prepped to age out. In rural North Dakota there is not a lot of adoptions over the age of 10 and for an openly gay young man the chances were less. 

Michael's file was over 200 pages. He was in a system he learned to work and exist in. His file stated he was anti-social, introverted and a clinician even put that his belief was Michael was un adoptable and any placement would fail. We read the file, talked to our caseworker Chris and Christy. There was something about him that drew us to him. We prepared for all the issues in the file, but we believed so much of this was coping skills of a child who had just been without safety and love for too long. We believed in us as a family and him. There were several other challenges, for as long as he had been in the system, he was not legally free. His adoption agency and the DHS there had never done an interstate placement or adoption. The team at AFFEC told us they would help that paperwork process and we just need to concentrate on Michael.

On 12/19/12 we were informed that AFFEC had gotten the DHS paperwork to place Michael into foster care with us, to begin the termination process and move him to adoptive placement. Again where DHS in ND faltered because this was so new, AFFEC took the lead. On Valentine’s Day 2013 we met our son face to face via skype. He was the most beautiful child we had ever seen and while DHS often treated him like an adult both Ty and I and AFFEC realized he was still a kid and needed to just be a kid in the process .He was very shy the whole call but excited to know he could Skype with us any time until we came to visit him in March. At the end of the call his caseworker asked him if he had any others questions for us. He looked in the camera on his computer and gave the smarmy little grin we now know so well and said "yeah what took you so long? ‘And that was it, done deal. He was our son.

We had 115 Skype calls between the month we met him and the day he came home. The original DHS plan was Michael was to finish school in ND then come home that summer. At 16 the stress of multiple placements and the fear of this adoption failing began to seriously impact Michael. His migraines, stomach pain and insomnia was daily. He would cry to us at times saying please don’t give up on me, please come. His caseworker, the AFFEC team us as his parents decided that his school could be made up. His wellbeing was more important. Our plan became if we could not take him home sooner one of us would get a part time job in ND and stay by him until he could come home. AFFEC worked with both states DHS to get his placement in place and on 3/23/13 what he thought was a visit was actually the last day he was in a foster home. From 3/23/16 he was ours and on 2/22/14, 10 months shy of his 18th birthday he legally became ours. But from first sight he was always ours, the paper was a formality and his safety net.

We often jokingly said that we were not given the child in his file. Our introvert was an extrovert who just embraced us, his new family and life. His laugh was deep, from the gut and true. His 5th grade reading ability was just undiagnosed dyslexia and he started high school with a 1.3 GPA. After 2 months of work on his reading with his disability he tested at a 12 grade reading level, He scored the only perfect OAKs test in science his school had ever had. When he graduated high school his GPA was 3.8. Michael had PTSD from horrific childhood abuse, he had abandonment issues. He tested us at times. And at times the PTSD took over  But each time he tested and no one came to move him, each time he had to work it out in a family, each time he was loved unconditionally a piece of him blossomed. His demons well he was learning how to starve them and he and his therapist made huge strides in him being present in his current life and not chained to his past. He had no clique, if he liked you, he spent time with you. He held his friend’s hands male or female in public, at 19 he still held our hands when he walked with us, still climbed into bed between us to watch TV. Still said I love you. For a kid who never thought he would be more than a fast food worker in North Dakota, he owned proudly his hard work and graduation, .It was many long nights of the 3 of us getting through homework. He went to Europe as a graduation gift and saw the world is a wonderful place. He wanted to be a nurse and with just adjusting to working in his dyslexia .He made a decision to join Job Corp for medical tech training so he could learn what other kids learned in years of stable schooling: scheduling and opportunity. He was set to go to his program in July for a year then come back and enter a pre nursing program. His dream job was to work overseas in programs like Mercy Corp or Doctors without Borders. He was and is the most spectacular and amazing thing ever to come into our lives. No matter the age or that he came with furry legs and face scruff, he is our baby. He completed us. He is our reminder in times of discord that love wins.

We will miss how he always made the rounds in town to see grandma, his aunt and a family friend at the hair salon. How he would have call of duty marathons with his two best friends, holed up with pizza and noise. But then his friends would come out from playing with charcoal facial because Mike told them they needed to take care of their pores if they wanted girlfriends. We miss the three of us grabbing breakfast, just heading out on the road. We miss that he was so strong he could pull you from a sitting position, straight up when he wanted a hug. We miss the "whatever’s" and the eye rolls. We miss every fiber of our child for all he was.

At his funeral over 100 people came to celebrate his life with us and story after story we were blown away by how much of an impact he made and created a legacy most adults will never have. Several of his teachers from high school came and one of his favorites told us he thought every time he saw Mike speak out in class or strut down the hall so comfortable in his skin, that he was in fact a badass. And Michael was comfortable in himself because he was loved without condition every single day he was with us and his family. He learned families could have different opinions but still respect and support each other. He knew no matter what he was loved and that would never change. He knew there was a long list of people behind his parents that would have to also die before someone harmed him ever again. He knew he was our everything and that allowed him to bring out the best parts of himself .At his funeral the pastor reminded us that the stories of Michael had a theme: love, joy and being present in your life. He challenged everyone in that chapel to remember that and as they left the service do to as Michael would, skip. To watch the very young to very old, skip for our son, it shows so many people not just us, really were touched by him.

 As parents we are living through the worst thing you can ever do, losing your child before you. Not a day goes by without him being so present and missed. But this is the price for unconditional love, to love fearlessly and without limits knowing you may also have to survive pain. The grief we feel every day and will until we see our son in the next life, is such a small price to pay for all the joy and love. We would rather have this pain and loss than never have had the blessing of the time and the love that was our son. What we created as a family is beautiful, what we had with him a gift.  As much as it hurts to have him gone, he left this earth not just another stat on foster care but he left knowing he was our son, he was loved for his whole being and he had a place in this world.

When we began the adoption journey, each snag, each roll of red tape, AFFEC was there for us. It was always "what do you need, how can we help" They took that stress from us and allowed us to focus on Michael.  This process was from them always focused 100% on what was best for our son. When Michael passed we decided in lieu of flowers we wanted folks to instead donate to AFFEC. So like us, someone else could meet their loves. So one more child or children would be out of the system. To have to call and tell people that donations were coming because Michael had passed was so hard. Christy and the team were there for us again "what do you need, what can we do?"

If you are a family because of AFFEC you know how wonderful this team is, how they live their mission and really hold and care for their families. If you are a donor to AFFEC, please know what you have given our kids, our families is beyond a thank you and there are no words to explain this gift.

We thank you all for giving us the avenue to find and love our son and we are humbled by your support and love in our loss. If you’re on the fence about adoption, please go find your Michael ( s) . Please remember love wins.

( Photography by Michael ) ART RULES!!!!

One of the things we did right as parents was we never said no to Mike expressing interest in arts or music. I have many glue, saw and weird stains all over to prove it . We still fling glitter no matter where or how much we vacuum. And now that he is gone we have art on our walls , some made for each of us expressly, tutus hanging in a room and a computer full of his photography. From the first night together, Mike like Ty has been bit by the photography bug. The first month he was home we used or tax refund to get him a kick ass digital like his dads. I have started going through his camera and literally thousands of pics. you can see his early work , where he was learning angles and lighting to his last pieces where he became more daring. It is literally watching my child become a man through his art, what a eye he had and how he saw the world and what he wanted to capture.
I don't have a gallery or fridge , so my blog so be it. I will have days and days for us to sift through all his photography but like Ty he loved doing it. as Julie Andrews said "lets start at the very beginning' ". These pieces are some of over 2300 photos Mike took in the first 6 months of being home.
For me this is a place to gaze at just one of Mike's many talents : ENJOY
You can click on each to make bigger or do scroll through