It's you. Totally knew it!

I remember the day Ben was born. I remember staring down at him and thinking "Oh hi you! Of course it's you." Like we were old friends. Like we'd always known each other. Like we had always been connected. Like we shared a secret. And, we did.

He captivated me. He was perfect. And he was only mine for 48 hours. And then, he was theirs. Letting him go began well before his birth. Still there are not words for the kind of grief that held me for many days following his adoption. And then, one day, months later, it lifted and now what I remember most is not the pain, but instead I remember that I knew him and that he knew me and we had a secret. We had an agreement.

I work with a sweet girl who has been chosen with her husband to adopt a baby boy when he arrives in December. She met the birth mother recently and she had that "Oh hi you! Of course it's you" moment. What could be more comforting to a young woman not yet ready to be a mother and a woman who has tried for many years in vain to have a child? Like a friendship had been renewed and an agreement remembered.

I struggle with God daily. I struggle with much of the organization in the church I was raised in. But, oddly, I never struggle to find or recognize what I know can only be the hand of something much greater in my life.

I have girlfriends that I have looked at and said "Oh hi you! Of course it's you." Like how the hell did this reunion take so long? These women... I love them. I love them with that deep choked up grateful kind of love.

I have a brother who I know I've been connected to for time that spans far beyond this life. And I have these children who are so totally mine. As they grow I have those "Oh hi you!" moments often.

I wonder if they'll have that with Ben. I know they have it with some cousins and a couple of my friends who have firmly planted themselves in to our inner circle, and they have an unbreakable bond with their uncle. Odds are pretty good.

I'm kind of a girl about this mushy stuff. But, I'm not a Candyass. Wussy girl, yes. Candyass, no. 

Dear Summer, your days are numbered.

The kids class lists were posted this morning. Three weeks and they're back in school. I can't wait. I love the schedule and the rhythm of a school year, but I am sad that this summer has passed so quickly and I feel like I've missed so much of it. Maine and my beautiful town South of Boston are long gone.

We've had cousins visiting from Beijing and they've kept my kids busy with every activity a kid could imagine during the summers here. Rock climbing, swimming, hiking, swimming, camping, swimming, skating, night games, sleepovers at grandparents, golfing, baseball games, and swimming. And, bunches and bunches of other things.

Mojo tackling a steep wall in American Fork Canyon, July 2011

If you know me well, you know that I've recently been a tiny bit sick again and that my Mojo had surgery two weeks ago and her summer was halted quite suddenly with the new piece of hardware in her chinny chin chin. I've wanted to throw in the towel and quit working full time and just hang out with my kids. And, to be really honest, to also spend more time with my friends. Have I ever told you that I have the greatest friends ever. I do. They are smart and funny and SMART and they always show. Always. And, guess what else. I love their kids. (The ones that don't have kids get mine by default, so I REALLY love their kids.) Their kids are adventurous and clever and kind and one gives the best kisses on the planet.

For mine, summer has been made better by their deep connections to their cousins, all of these new friends, my mother and her beautiful yard built for her 16 grandchildren and the cinnamon rolls that seem to appear magically in her kitchen, and by a swing that makes butterflies and belly laughs in Kalli's backyard.

Grandma makes great comic strip hats and her poppies are the MOST beautiful in Alpine. We love the trees in Kalli's backyard and love that we get to play there often. We also love how close we are to the mountains for hiking and campfires and, most of all, for s'mores.

 For years I have wanted only to get out of this state and head back to my beautiful New England. Both for me and my children. I have always felt that they would thrive away from here and away from the things I find challenging and frustrating about this place. But, they have much here that would be greatly missed if we were to leave. And, so do I. So, for now... we stay and love it.