Home
Well, this is it. We are moved in. We still have a thing or two to get for the house, but all boxes are unpacked and put away. This is home.
I like it. It's comfortable. And J seems content. I think this is going to be the nicest home we've had yet.
But there is something.
I don't regret for an instant the decision I had to have my surgery. My life is exponentially better than it was before. And truth is, surgery or no surgery, I wasn't having children. But it just feels like we are at a point in our lives when a child might be a welcome addition.
I guess what started it is my niece. We have a long history--too long to detail here. Just suffice it to say that she has a special place in our hearts. And while her home is not a. . .bad one, it's not the best place for her. I spent this summer in Michigan while J attended another school, and Kendall and I became even closer than before. And I want her to come live with us.
See, she is a completely different person when she is with us. Always has been. Mostly because J and I respond differently to her. We don't argue with her. We don't yell. We simply set rules and establish consequences ahead of time. And she doesn't often feel the need to challenge us. Of course, kids are kids. There are times when I could gleefully wring her delightful little neck. But mostly, things are constant--stable. This is what she needs. And it's not what she gets at home.
J and I have talked for years about wishing Kendall could be with us--mostly because we are much better suited to her than her own mother is. I'm not trying to beat J's sister up here, but it's no secret to anyone that she and Kendall are not good together. This summer almost broke my heart. It's an accident waiting to happen. So after J and I got to California and signed for our house, we bit the bullet. . .and told his sister that we would like Kendall to come spend some time out here with us.
It went much better than expected. But now I'm stuck in this political game. I have to watch my step and play these word games with his sister trying to set things up for my niece to come out here with us. We would like her until she's ready for college. But we can't say that. We have to say "for a little while" and play the pacifying game of "no, you're not a bad mom. she's very challenging. maybe this would give her the chance to see just how good she really has things at home." As if we really believe that.
I hate playing the game. It makes me sick. But I also see the bigger picture of this is what has to be done in order to accomplish the goal: providing Kendall the environment that she needs to succeed.
But then,
out of fairness,
I must question myself. Why do I want Kendall so badly? Is it because it's the right thing for HER, or am I trying to steal another woman's child because I can't have my own?
I want to believe in myself and my intentions. I truly believe--as does the rest of the family, because it has become a family discussion--that we can provide Kendall with the home that she so desperately needs. And we aren't trying to adopt her; we are only seeking an open-ended guardianship. We will still be aunt and uncle, and she will still have her mom and dad and have all the communication with them and holiday visits and whatever else--at our expense. So on the one hand, I can say unequivocally that I have the most honorable of intentions.
But I need to be sure. And there's always the "other hand" to consider. And that other hand holds the question of my motives to want to take on this responsibility. And it holds the fact that I will never have a child of my own.
Wow. My hands are full.
I like it. It's comfortable. And J seems content. I think this is going to be the nicest home we've had yet.
But there is something.
I don't regret for an instant the decision I had to have my surgery. My life is exponentially better than it was before. And truth is, surgery or no surgery, I wasn't having children. But it just feels like we are at a point in our lives when a child might be a welcome addition.
I guess what started it is my niece. We have a long history--too long to detail here. Just suffice it to say that she has a special place in our hearts. And while her home is not a. . .bad one, it's not the best place for her. I spent this summer in Michigan while J attended another school, and Kendall and I became even closer than before. And I want her to come live with us.
See, she is a completely different person when she is with us. Always has been. Mostly because J and I respond differently to her. We don't argue with her. We don't yell. We simply set rules and establish consequences ahead of time. And she doesn't often feel the need to challenge us. Of course, kids are kids. There are times when I could gleefully wring her delightful little neck. But mostly, things are constant--stable. This is what she needs. And it's not what she gets at home.
J and I have talked for years about wishing Kendall could be with us--mostly because we are much better suited to her than her own mother is. I'm not trying to beat J's sister up here, but it's no secret to anyone that she and Kendall are not good together. This summer almost broke my heart. It's an accident waiting to happen. So after J and I got to California and signed for our house, we bit the bullet. . .and told his sister that we would like Kendall to come spend some time out here with us.
It went much better than expected. But now I'm stuck in this political game. I have to watch my step and play these word games with his sister trying to set things up for my niece to come out here with us. We would like her until she's ready for college. But we can't say that. We have to say "for a little while" and play the pacifying game of "no, you're not a bad mom. she's very challenging. maybe this would give her the chance to see just how good she really has things at home." As if we really believe that.
I hate playing the game. It makes me sick. But I also see the bigger picture of this is what has to be done in order to accomplish the goal: providing Kendall the environment that she needs to succeed.
But then,
out of fairness,
I must question myself. Why do I want Kendall so badly? Is it because it's the right thing for HER, or am I trying to steal another woman's child because I can't have my own?
I want to believe in myself and my intentions. I truly believe--as does the rest of the family, because it has become a family discussion--that we can provide Kendall with the home that she so desperately needs. And we aren't trying to adopt her; we are only seeking an open-ended guardianship. We will still be aunt and uncle, and she will still have her mom and dad and have all the communication with them and holiday visits and whatever else--at our expense. So on the one hand, I can say unequivocally that I have the most honorable of intentions.
But I need to be sure. And there's always the "other hand" to consider. And that other hand holds the question of my motives to want to take on this responsibility. And it holds the fact that I will never have a child of my own.
Wow. My hands are full.
posted by Kyra | 13:08
1 Comments:
I'm glad that you've settled. I hope that means you'll be able to blog regularly. I think what you're offering is very generous. To take in a child of this age is a huge responsibility. It would be different if she was a young child. Then maybe, you might have to question your intentions. At this point in Kendall's life, the bonds have been made with mom. You've already established a special relationship as her aunt. If you are able to help her through these difficult years, good for you. It's the best of all possible worlds. A little distance will probably make her more appreciative and closer to her mom, in the long run.
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