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Continuing the series about our journey to Cj running the past days …
When we adopted Sam in 2003 we had no thoughts of eventually adding another child to the family. I was
fifty-one years old at the time and figured he’d be my last. I was more than happy with this idea, and with his homecoming I felt our family complete. For a while.
Sam was Mark’s first child, and the sun rose and set on that darling boy’s head as far as his father was concerned. Mark loves everything about parenting … except the stuff about dealing with sick kids, as it physically hurts him to see his child in pain … and because he’s having so much fun he doesn’t give what I consider to be enough thought to the results of some actions. Yes, this is my way around saying that he was spoiling Sam rotten, and my darling little boy was in imminent danger of becoming a monster.
Many discussions about child-rearing happened in our house, and emails between my office and his were full of articles about age-appropriate discipline, consequences of raising kids without rules, etc., and complaints of sleep deprivation (Mark loves having the kids in bed with us. I’m not so hot on it.) issued forth, from me, with regularity. Well, you get the picture … we had some differing opinions and issues relating to.
Not to say, however, that we weren’t a deliriously happy little family! We were three peas in a cozy, tropical pod and darned grateful about the whole situation. Smiles, laughs and loads of love filled our days, and we could sometimes not believe how amazingly lucky we were to have this wonderful boy.
Mark’s favorite way of summing up our life at that time was to say: Before, we were a happy couple … now we’re a happy family.
This continues in my next post …
