Madison was happy that it’s going to be cool enough for her favorite outfit — a flippy purple skirt and a matching striped top with long sleeves. She’s about to outgrow it but loves it dearly. She practically skipped into preschool this morning, carrying a card she made for one of her teachers who just lost her dad.
Last night I was showing Brett facebook and myspace (because he’s fascinated by this stuff but has no interest in creating anything like for himself — smart boy that he is) and I showed him Jessica’s and Madison said, “Mommy!” then got shy and embarrassed. And she did what she did before, which is to rapidly try to cover and pretend like she was talking about me.
So this morning on the way to school as I was strapping her into the
carseat I brought it up. (I find that bringing big topics up on neutral territory makes it easier for kids to talk.) And I repeated that it’s ok to call Jessica mommy because Jessica is also her mommy and that what she calls Jessica is between her and Jessica and that I’m not bothered by this because it’s between the two of them. (I’ll add that Jessica is not too hip about being called mommy and we’ve talked about how she can handle this in a positive way that honors Madison’s need to try this on while still setting down the boundaries that work for the two of them.) I said, “You have two mommies and one you call mommy and the other you call Jessica [well, insert the name we actually call Jessica].” Then the conversation went like this:
Madison: You’re my mommy?
Me: Yes, I’m your mommy because you live with me and I take care of you.
Madison: And Jessica is a mommy, too?
Me: Yes, because you grew in her uterus where she took care of you until you came out and came to live with us.
Madison: And I come back home.
Me: That’s right. You go and visit Jessica and then you come home.
Madison: And Jessica brings me home, right?
Me: Yes, because Jessica knows you live here and that I’m your mommy who takes care of you at home. Remember Jessica picked me to be your mommy so she would never forget that.
Madison: Because I live here.
Me: Right. You live with us and you’ll live here until you’re a big grown woman and then if you want, you can move out.
Madison: And I’ll buy a car so I can come over and visit you.
Me: And we can make muffins.
Madison: OK!
Later on during our drive we talked again about how we met Jessica and how she said (obviously edited for preschooler understanding): I am having a baby girl and she is in my uterus and her name is Madison. I love her very much but I can’t take care of her right now so I would like you to be her mommy and daddy. I feel sad about missing her because I love her very very much but when I think about her having a good time at your house, I feel happy about that.”
The reason I break down this way complicated story with way complicated emotions to this is because I want to send Madison these messages:
–Jessica loves her.
–Jessica took care of her.
–Our adoption has Jessica’s blessing.
–Jessica WANTS Madison to be happy with us.
–She was always Madison (she was always her Self), pre and post adoption.
What I’m hearing from her is that she’s worried that we — the grown-ups — will get mixed up and send her to live with Jessica or Jessica will forget to bring her home. And this probably has to do with a lot of things, like preschool (she says, “And you won’t leave until I get into preschool, right?” meaning that I won’t just drop her off in the hall without any grown-ups to watch her) and having a special day with Jessica for the very first time.
I don’t think this is unique to adoption since Noah at about this same age wanted to make sure that I wouldn’t forget him at Grandma’s or at preschool. The part that’s particular is how she wants reassurance that she can think about Jessica as a mommy without worrying that it’ll
rock her world and actually make it so her Thomas the Tank Engine pillow and favorite pink shoes suddenly end up at Jessica’s house and she’ll find herself living somewhere else. I think she wants to hear that her life is sturdy and permanent and can withstand her struggle to understand things.
(originally published at my blog)
