Vroom, Vroom

November used to remind me of cooling temperatures, Thanksgiving and preparing for the Holidays. Now, it includes a less enjoyable observance. Yep, it's good, old National Adoption Awareness Month and time for the farting of rainbows by clueless unicorns. But I am revving up to do my snarky best to keep the truth about adoption an obtainable commodity.

It's kind of like a drag race between us and them. Now, if I were a dragster, I would probably be a Funny Car, but when it comes to this issue, there is no mistaking the passionate power behind the rumble from my glass pack muffler. I just have to watch my fuel mixture because I can explode.

I intend to do my share of blogging in direct contradiction to the posies and idylls from the creators and sponsors of this annual farce. I love the fact that, at SMAAC, we have dubbed November to be National Adoption BEwareness Month. For us, this is a month for wearing our ribbons, for observing National Strange and Mournful Day (from a line from Paul Simon's "Mother and Child Reunion") and getting in your face with the Industry that trades in the flesh of children.

The lobbyists and the National Council For Adoption and other facilitator groups have done a good job of buying off legislators and conning the public with warm, fuzzy images that are anything but reality. We just came out of the fog an average of two decades ago. The adoption engine has been humming merrily along during that time. The Industry counted on our silence to keep their numbers up, but the supply dwindled while the demand remained strong so they had to adapt. Their marketing and PR techniques are top of the line. All we have are our individual voices.

I got my ribbon badge out of my jewelry box and am freshening it up. It's simple enough to put together with black ribbon for grief and loss, red for passion and righteous anger and white for hope. Most of us pin ours on with a stud earring with the birthstone of our child who was appropriated for adoption. In my case, that is a diamond (April) for my daughter and a pearl (June) for my son. I wear it everywhere and am happy to explain its meaning to anyone who asks.

I invite all my sister mothers, especially those from the EMS/BSE, to write letters to the editors, engage in discussion, write their elected representatives, blog, if you like, add this to your facebook page and get the word out. This is a race we need to win and it's not won in just one heat.

So, Ladies, start your engines, watch for those staging lights on the Christmas Tree and show the industry your rear bumper. Vroom, vroom.