So #2 has a name change today…”Monkey” is now his name instead of “gymnast”. I had forgotten how we call him this, because he has climbed things from the time he could crawl. He is wiry and lean, and while not very flexible, can shimmy with the best of them. Hubs has now figured out (okay, I told him) that I am writing in blog form, and the look on his face was not exactly overflowing with joy for my new endeavor. And when he heard the nicknames I have given our family, well, the look grew in intensity. I told him he was plain Hubs, at which time the look did not decrease, because he would rather I not write about him at all. Oh, well, if I am crazy, he married into it.
Family…I think to start with I should aquaint people with family. My family. I do not think anyone has a “normal” family anymore, but what is normal? I do know that at my kids’ school, my children are in the minority, living in a home with both original parents. When did that become a minority? My own parents were divorced by the time I was a little older than Weatherman, but the Hubs parents have been married 37 years (to the same person); thank God they are not divorced, because if we added one more family to the holiday routine, well…
So me and the hubs celebrate 11 years of marriage 8/18/2012, and we are each other’s first (and last, I assure you on my end) spouse. I am adopted, and the adoptive parents divorced, leaving my poor husband with 3 mother-in-laws, and two of them are a little crazy. I was the result of a one night stand at the end of the free love era, and only know my Birth Mother, who is a terrific, though a little quirky, lady. I have an adoptive mother and a beautiful Stepmom, not evil at all. My dad (adoptive) is still my dad, and I lost my step dad in 2004. Now do you see why it’s a good thing the in-laws are still together?
Being adopted has affected me in ways that are hard to explain, but I will always belong to my dad (the one who adopted me). I am a Boshell through and through, and when I married my husband, I took his last name, but I still introduce myself as Boshell, unless I don’t want the person to know who I am (my last name has a little recognition in the very small town we live in). I define myself as being adopted but I blame that on my adoptive mother, who ingrained in me that identity of being “adopted”. She did instill in me a sense of gratitude for my Birth Mother, explaining that she loved me so much, she sacrificed her love for me to give me up. How cool is that? I am a strong advocate of adoption, and think that if you are 16 or younger and are not prepared to raise a child, you could give them a heck of a life by allowing them to be raised by parents who can give them what you can’t.
Okay, off the soapbox. You have met a few characters in this cast, and I hope you stick around. I’m not as funny as I think I am, but I think I’ll have some brilliant moments, so wade through the dull to hit the rainbow. I’m like Skittles…stick around and you’ll get a different part of the rainbow. You might not like all the flavors, but without them the rainbow wouldn’t be as beautiful.