So I'm trying to figure out what I'd like to know if I were in your shoes, a woman deciding if she is going to make an adoption plan or what she's going to do. I'm sure you'd want your baby to grow up safe, happy, and loved. I can promise the third, and will do my best on the first two.
But after that... well, I turned to Lifelong for guidance, and found something that can at least serve as a starting point.
How do you imagine spending time with your child?
To answer this, I end up looking back to how I spent time with my parents growing up, because I'd like to have the same sorts of memories with my child.
(Despite our expressions, I promise that we did actually like each other!)
Weekends were, of course, my favorite time. Saturdays were usually the day that Mom and Dad took us out to breakfast. It was good bonding time, because we could all just sit down and relax- no one had to cook. I think that was the start of "four wall conversations", when we were able to talk about anything and everything, with the understanding that it was not to go beyond the walls of the room- or restaurant- that we were in. It wasn't until I was much older that I was realized how truly special those mornings were- I don't know of very many families who regularly sat down and spent time together, or who could talk about anything. (Incidentally, those breakfasts continued until well after I'd moved out, with my brother too. Dad always says, it was his way of making sure we had at least one meal a week, but I know he really just missed us.)
After breakfast, Saturdays were usually chore days. It was a mix of house cleaning, yard work, laundry, and usually a project or two. At different times while growing up, my parents refinished the kitchen, the family room, a bathroom, built a storage cabinet, a shed, and more, all on top of the other minor repairs that the house needed. My brother and I absolutely hated the weekends where we had to go to the home supply stores, because we knew it meant another project that we would be helping with instead of playing or doing our own thing. Looking back, I think it was a smart move by my parents- we learned how much work it was to have a home, and what it took to keep it in a condition to be proud of, and we definitely learned a lot of skills.
Some weekends we would go with my parents to help with their local volunteer group. The club sponsored a park in the city we lived in, and we had several weekends where we helped put in playground equipment. Other years we would help when the club was running an event, and sometimes the extended family would be there to help too. I played the Easter Bunny for a few years, and was very disappointed when I outgrew the costume and had to give it up. My brother took over from me after that, and I acted as his guard, helping him out when the kids became overzealous. As we got older, we continued helping out but acted in different ways- we did everything from directing traffic to serving food to setting up tables. Mom and Dad thought it important that we served the community we live in, and I hope to share that with my child some day.
On the weekends where there was nothing going on, we'd frequent the library and book stores. I mentioned it before, but we all loved reading, and none of us left the house without a book or something to read.
We were also card players- a variety of games, but as my brother and I got older, we started playing double deck pinochle with my parents, and even now we'll sometimes pull out the cards to play on a quiet day.
I really hope that my child will look back with the same fondness one day. I am okay if they don't remember every detail of their days, as long as they remember it with an overall sense of "good".
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