I am at the point where I wish I had never heard the word adoption. I get to this point, often, and have to back off and spend more of this energy on the rest of my life.
Yes people. It's true. Adoption does not consume my life, 24/7. I am not embittered and obsessed. I go to movies, I make great muffins and soups, I paint pictures, I read books, I walk along the beach, I work out at the YMCA, I talk to my children and other family members on the phone and in person and I mess around with my husband as often as we can. This usually depends on whose arthritis is acting up the worst.
I think people get a picture of a bitter old bitch "b****"mother, campaigning against the warm, fuzzy institution of abduc...er, I mean adoption when she is not kicking puppies or taking candy from toddlers. Rather than listen to what is being said, they want to object to how it is being said. I can just see it now..."Gasp! Did she say she was against ADOPTION??????"
So we explain ourselves and explain and explain and explain and no one wants to understand what we are saying unless it is in synch with their acts of adoption, desire to adopt or need to defend a friend/relative who has adopted. THAT is when I wish I had never heard the word, indeed, I wish that such a painful, unnecessary thing had never come to be a part of our civilization. Because, then, I wouldn't have to try to explain what should be evident, obvious and realistic.
So, we rented "Sweeney Todd." I figure that a dark musical about a murderous barber and a demented "people meat pie" maker would be better than another frustrating, heartbreaking sojourn on the 'net, reading "Dear Barfmuggle" letters, watching the self-entitled troll for babies and the brainwashed future beemommies falling for the fantasy. In fact, a few straight-razor slashes across the Adam's apple was just what I needed. That is the first "R" rated musical I have ever seen. It was Tim Burton bleak weirdness for sure but very well done, I thought. Tonight, I am curling up with a Nora Roberts novel. Maybe some more murder and mayhem mixed in with a sexy, improbable romance will be as big a relief from the world of baby-snatching as Johnny Depp waving his blade and singing to it as "My Friend" was, last night.
I am refreshing and recharging the old batteries because this old broad will be back in the fray within hours, calling a spade a spade. But, for now, the "A" word is not to be spoken in this house. Ah.....blissful silence and peace. I wonder how hubby's arthritis is, tonight?