"I'll be your cashier, whenever you're ready."

I don't believe in coincidences.  Not at all.  These are Divine interventions (albeit small ones), I can't/won't be convinced otherwise.  There is a reason.  It might not be revealed immediately, or even directly, but it has an impact or a reason.  The term i've adopted : 'Godwink' does not belong to me, it's from a book I'm reading by SQuire Rushnell: When God Winks at You.  "When God winks, He is reaffirming that there is absolutely nothing about us that He does not know - our every hurt, our every desire. And that to me is very comforting," SQuire Rushnell.

The past few days, a particular Godwink of mine, has been floating in my head.  Since I don't believe in coincidences, it must mean something, I think I'm supposed to share it.   Take from it what you will.
Here goes:

Backstory: I'm adopted. This has always been a big part of me.  My parents* have always been open and honest with me.  As a child, I attended many adoption seminar, to help kids cope with the ramifications of adoption.  I have always been curious about my birthparents**. I always knew in my heart I would search someday, when I was ready.

~2001 I found an attorney in San Antonio (where I was adopted from) that helped with adoption records being unsealed*** through the courts.  Part of the process for unsealing records is: having one hour of post-adoption counseling.  I kept that information and filed it away, thinking that someday when I was ready, I would use it.

2003, ~ May
I'm working as a waitress at Chili's.  I'm pregnant with Aidan.  I am elated, overjoyed, petrified that I am going to be a mom.  I am overjoyed with the possibility that I might have someone that looks like me in my family.  I am very curious medically speaking.  (Something non-adoptees probably take for granted: medical history.  It's a jab every time you fill out medical history: adopted.  Having limited health information for me was okay.  It was certainly NOT acceptable for my unborn child. I prayed to God that morning, before my shift, 'God, if I should go ahead with getting my adoption records unsealed, please give me a sign.'  I carried on with my shift as usual.  When I presented the check to a table of ladies, with my closing line, "I'll be your cashier whenever you're ready."  The lady handed me her credit card, and I took it and read the name: It was the lady that had done ALL my adoption seminars as a child.  WOAH.... OKAY God, got you sign... Guess I will go ahead with that 'post adoption counseling' requirement....   I asked for her card, re-introduced myself, and set up a time for the 'post adoption counseling'.

I did fulfill the requirement.  I did hire the attorney, and I did have my records opened.  That was merely the beginning, rather than the end of the story.  To be honest, I'm still not sure how the story ends, but I know this, I love where it's going.

Again, I don't know why that story has been floating around in my head.  Maybe because I've been reading that book, but I feel that I'm meant to share it.

Footnote:

*When I refer to my 'parents', I am referring to my parents.  The ones that raised me.  The ones that adopted, loved, supported me unconditionally everyday since May 5th, 1977.

**I use (probably an outdated term) birthparents to mean: the DNA contributors of my being, the people that conceived me, the womb that served as an incubator.  Tony, I still thank God EVERY day for having led me to you.

***An unsealed adoption record meant having the full names (first, middle, last) as well as birthdates of my birthparents.

It is impossible for me to ever consider Tom & Lynn Jorgensen as not being my 'real parent'.  God's divine plan, was for me to be placed with them.

My parents and I ~ 1980

Oprah & the Arsenic hour

"..turn on Oprah, and call me back."

"Do you have yesterday's Oprah? Can I come over and watch it."

MOM.... are you watching Oprah?

Jenn, did YOU watch Oprah?

and lastly my husband's FAVORITE start of a conversation, "Today on Oprah...."

We've all had similar conversations.  I know I've used it as a conversation starter (on the unusual occasion, I DON'T know what to say.)  We've grown up with her.  She was there telling us, "You ARE enough".  Now, whether or not we listened: that's another post.  How many of us have had an a-ha moment during one of her shows?  I've scoffed at many of her shows too (Tom Cruise: really Tom?).  At least it WAS there for me TO scoff at.  Let the record reflect: I am not sad.  I have regrets, and concern.                        
Regrets:
1. I've never been a guest on the Oprah show: I don't have a product/book/business I can promote, and benefit from the 'Oprah effect'.
Damn it, I JUST found my voice, and NOW it's too late... Now, I'll never amount to anything... (i suck).

2. I've never been an audience member on her favorite things episode.

Concern:  What are all the new moms out there going to watch during the arsenic hour?  Those wicked wicked hours between 4-6, Oprah saw me through those tough days.  It was only an hour a day, but it gave me the extra strength knowing I could persevere until the husband got home.  I was tired of the one way conversations.  I was tired from giving so much of myself and being paid in spit up.  I needed some adult interaction.  Jeremy would look at me with a placating look when I began my sentences with, "Today on Oprah".  I took offense, here's why: some days, that was my only adult interaction.   Some days O was my only adult point of reference for the day.  I had NOTHING new to add otherwise.  Sure, I could talk anecdote all day, but not much of substance.  I'm not complaining about being a stay at home mom.  It was the right decision for me.  It's not for everyone.  Loneliness is a risk for the stay at home mom.  Oprah was my prescription.  Hence, the worry about you new moms out there..  If you need some adult interaction, just call me..
 
I didn't always get to watch it during the 4 o'clock hour.  Allow me to paint the scenario:  Aidan standing looking at a paused screen asking, "Uh, is this appropriate for ME?  It doesn't sound like it's appropriate."
[Thanks A, for being my moral compass.]  "No, Aidan, probably not, I'll record it, and watch it later."  Let me turn on PBS.. I think Martha Speaks is on.

footnote: my kids (ages 7,6 still love PBS in the afternoon.  I don't try to skew them either.  I openly admit trying to keep them young & innocent as long as possible.  I do it unabashedly.

Parenthood & Harper Valley PTA

 In 1989 when Parenthood came out, it quickly became one of my favorite movies.  At the time, it was a strong crush on Leaf Phoenix.  I won't delve into my two decade crush on Joaquin in this post, due to the fact I think that deserves it's own post which shall aptly be titled: Dirty Boy Sexy, and address the qualifications for DBS (although I don't think qualification nor definitions are necessary). I digress.

Back then, it was just a funny movie with vomit, uptight parents, and something phallic looking that buzzed.  Today the movie has entirely different meaning.  I have a new found respect for the movie.  I'm on the other side, and take interest/identify with the adult dialogue.  Last night, my oldest had his first grade program.  [I'm so blessedly oblivious sometimes.  I didn't realize it was a PTA meeting beforehand.  I should've known better.  Of course, that's how the PTA is going to sucker you into attending the PTA meeting.  (I forgot to join the PTA this year [GASP], and I didn't get the school directory- they showed ME!  Look, I've lived long enough to know not to trash certain things, because who knows what the future holds?  It might very well be me up there next year, with no microphone, assuming I'm speaking loud enough for the entire cafeteria to hear me, following parliamentary procedure, voting on school historian.  BUT, because I still have the maturity of a teenager, my friend and I were texting another friend sitting attentively in the front row.  Our goal, of course: to get her to laugh at our texts.  We couldn't hear what the PTA lady was discussing, but I'm sure it was of utmost importance.  [Which, by the way: where were cell phones and texting when we were in school?  It would have made assemblies and lectures SO much more tolerable!  No need for passing notes.... again, my apologies, I digress.]]

Let me get to the point.  Why is it so hard to enjoy certain activities?  We, as parents, LOVE to see our children perform, but let's face it, we don't love to see other parents' kids perform (family & friends' kids excluded of course)!  These programs can be such an ass whip.  As an adult with ADD (on a non medicated day, especially), I find it hard enjoying a program like last night.  I'm incapable of filtering out all the surrounding noises and goings on.  Allow me to elaborate:  We've got the toddlers versus the older siblings: (The older siblings are annoyed by the toddler duty, and the toddlers are pissed at the restraints of the strollers.  On the off chance that the stroller is not pulled out for this occasion, they're likely to high tail it to the stage towards the program.  I think I watched 3 moms wrangle their toddler and pull them back to their aisle (which is an impressive feat, watching a mom hunched over like a gorilla so she won't be in someone's video, carrying her child, the child also dangling- been there done that.)  I've got the grandpa needing to get in and out repeatedly, requiring you to move your legs to the side each time.  I've got the mom in the row in front of me, continuing to lean to her right (right in front of my view), to try and see her kid, because the woman in front of her, is allowing her 4th grader to knee stand in their chair to better see their kid.  I'm the annoying mom looking backwards every 2 minutes, trying to find the husband coming straight from work.  Look, I just want to see my kid perform his 2 lines about a carrot and his orange socks!  Oh, but we're not done yet.  What about these sweet songs that have the ten versus!  Oh my gosh!  They are so long.  One repeat is plenty, but 4?!

Perhaps that's why school programs are covered in movies, and sitcoms continue to dedicate entire episodes to the subject.  They are an ass whip, nobody wants to acknowledge.  Does this mean I love my kid any less? Uh, no... Does this mean I don't appreciate all the time the music teacher spent, or other teachers spent? Absolutely not~ I totally appreciate it.  [An ADD side note: the music teacher plays the zither, [strum strum strum strum....]  As a former dancer (not stripper), I would suggest shorter programs, songs, etc.  My ballet teacher loved the 15 minute pieces, the audience, not so much!  I don't mind the last minute scavenger hunts for certain clothing.  I take pride in a task such as that.  I struggle with my inability to filter out or concentrate on school programs without noticing all of the above.  The other bad part is that I don't hide my emotions well.  I have little filter on my face.  I looked thoroughly disgusted, because I was.  In a few weeks, when my kindergartner has his program, I will try to remember to take my medicine. Maybe that way I will be able to filter out all those other annoying parents there, and feel less like Steve Martin, wanting to explode, unable to enjoy these parental rites of passage.

I understand the big smiles of the parents as we're all walking to our cars.  We're relieved we survived another program without making a scene.  I tell my son how proud I am (because I GENUINELY mean it), and re-live HIS favorite parts with a genuine smile.

Blessing footnote:  After all of this is written and re-written, I still maintain the outlook, whilst an ass whip nonetheless, I wouldn't trade it for the world!  It's my ass whip to endure.