Ruth Ayres hosts a weekly celebration on her blog. I appreciate this reminder to reflect on the positives of my week.
1. I brought another pile of books to Maggie’s classroom, did my best booktalking song-and-dance, and had the satisfaction of seeing many books connect with kids. How I love getting books into kids’ hands! My favorite part was watching L. start reading Yummy when he finished his work. He is a slow reader, mouthing each word to himself as he reads. I so wanted to get a photo of his tattooed arms holding the book while he read. But he already seemed shy, and I worried he might start feeling self-conscious about reading if I made a big deal out of it. My Friend Dahmer, Gabi: A Girl in Pieces, Yaqui Delgado Wants to Kick Your Ass, and Crazy Horse’s Girlfriend generated the most interest and checkouts (I had multiple copies of 3 of the 4). #bookpusher4life
2. I guest blogged about a life-changing book I first discovered when I was 16 years old for Katie’s Falling in Love With Books series at Bookish Illuminations. The Day I Became an Autodidact is a book I know many in my PLN would enjoy and connect with.
3. I listened to the soundtrack to Amelie, one of my favorite movies–over and over. I mostly listen to audiobooks during my hourlong commute, but this week I gave myself the treat of music. Amelie’s quirky soundtrack is such a delight.
4. I received a box of mail-order injera and shiro from Ethiopian Spices and cooked Ethiopian. I’m more of a one-pot soup, stew, casserole kind of cook, so making 5 different dishes for one meal is a lot to tackle. But I always feel like the best mom in the world when I cook Ethiopian for my son. It’s never pretty, but it’s always delicious. Abby was also delighted with the injera order since it came in a perfect cat-sized box.
5. My son acknowledged me in public. He plays every sport, and I go to every single event, where he struggles to even make eye contact with me and my husband. This isn’t a tween thing: it’s an adoption thing. And I get it. I do. Being seen in public with his white parents is an announcement to the world that he’s adopted, that something bad happened to him—so bad he couldn’t stay with his family. Seeing us in the stands cheering for him is a painful reminder that he doesn’t have his real parents anymore. This is one of the harder things about being an adoptive mom. Knowing that if my son had the choice, he would always, always go back to his birth family. Doesn’t matter how much I love him. Doesn’t even matter how much he loves me. Still, he has wanted to start working on acknowledging us in public. He told me he was going to hug me at his next game, but I didn’t really believe him. At yesterday’s basketball game, however, he came over and gave me a hug when I arrived at the gym, then during the game he waved at me AND blew me a kiss! He was very proud of himself for doing this. When I asked him how he managed to do it, he said, “I just blocked everybody out and pretended it was just us. Plus, everybody knows you’re my mom anyway.”
the dirigible plum 
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