This poster shows what my sons didn't get to do this weekend.
J-son's former foster mom had called about a week ago, asking if she could take both my boys to see a Christian Wrestling Extravaganza at her church this past Saturday. I am a Christian. I actually wrestled for a while with a team while I was in grad school. In spite of those two facts, I think this group is, um, outside of my own usual definition of "family fun". Even, possibly, outside of "normal".
But practicality trumps philosophy. Since I had a huge pile of math papers to grade, I enthusiastically agreed to let her take my children away. The boys were thrilled. All was good. But at the last minute, the church got flooded out. I don't know if the wrestlers were related to Noah, but the event got cancelled.
Instead, the boys got to have what one of my friends affectionately calls an "All Sports Saturday" (and, yes, my friends usually abbreviate the name). The boys played in a league basketball game. We went to a wrestling match at my college (much less colorful than Plan A would have offered, alas). The boys played football with a friend. They went running with my husband. We did our best to wear them out.
In the meanwhile, I got an email from our social worker asking us if we're interested in finding out more about a 14-year old boy currently in a group home outside of Pittsburgh. There are things about this kid that make the Christian Wrestlers look tame . . . but we said, sure, let's meet the kid. More family, more fun. But definitely not normal.
J-son's former foster mom had called about a week ago, asking if she could take both my boys to see a Christian Wrestling Extravaganza at her church this past Saturday. I am a Christian. I actually wrestled for a while with a team while I was in grad school. In spite of those two facts, I think this group is, um, outside of my own usual definition of "family fun". Even, possibly, outside of "normal".
But practicality trumps philosophy. Since I had a huge pile of math papers to grade, I enthusiastically agreed to let her take my children away. The boys were thrilled. All was good. But at the last minute, the church got flooded out. I don't know if the wrestlers were related to Noah, but the event got cancelled.
Instead, the boys got to have what one of my friends affectionately calls an "All Sports Saturday" (and, yes, my friends usually abbreviate the name). The boys played in a league basketball game. We went to a wrestling match at my college (much less colorful than Plan A would have offered, alas). The boys played football with a friend. They went running with my husband. We did our best to wear them out.
There's part of me this weekend -- a large part -- feeling like a pitiful excuse of a mother. I was thrilled when I thought I'd get to hand off my boys so I could grade a bunch of papers. Maybe I'm the one who is far from family fun.
And yet, I graded my papers. I worked a bit more on the Haiti adoption process. On Sunday, I went to church and got to hear my boys singing in the choir. And Sunday afternoon, I got to watch them wrestling on the living room rug.
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