Diets and donuts

After a little plateau, my diet is going pretty well. I'm down 22 pounds and I'm working out more than ever. The working out part is HIGHLY unlike me, so I'm very surprised by myself. I think I went about 15 years without stepping foot in a gym. Sometimes I'm really not sure what has come over me, but then I remember that it's all in the name of being able to eat more. Ultimately, it's always about food.

Speaking of food, we have an exciting event coming up in our family - a party to celebrate my parents' 40th wedding anniversary. Isn't that awesome? Forty years. My sisters and I are throwing them a dessert party next week and there will be about a dozen amazing, delectable, carefully-selected-from-Pinterest desserts. And I won't be having any. Well, maybe one.

I'll be making my mother's famous chocolate chip cookies (dipped in chocolate, because, why not?), individual pineapple upside down cakes, and donuts, among other things.

I have to practice, of course, so I started today by making these puppies...

I know the calories. 228. Is it bad if I use ALL 1200 of my calories on desserts that day??

I used this recipe and, as usual, I had a lot of help making them. Clara loves to bake. And cook. But, most especially, play in the sink.

I always let her help in the kitchen in the name of education. I figure if I don't work with her on anything else that day, at least she learned something through baking. And then there's less guilt for that episode of Sophia the First she watched that morning.

We had another helper, too.

And when he woke up from his nap, Luke was happy to help with the eating. Doing his part to keep his mommy on her diet.

I think he was actually sleep-eating, and woke up at the end wondering what had hit him.

 Clara, meanwhile, had three. 

 

I had half of one. And it was amazing. 

Next up - my own creation that I've yet to actually try out - German chocolate cake moon pies. I found a never-been-used moon pie maker at Goodwill (my new obsession) for $5! 

And how do I resist eating them all, you may wonder? Ummm.... the grace of God?? I really don't know. All I know is that I have incredible will power when I diet. And for that I am very grateful.

It also doesn't hurt that I have a lot of takers. Nothing lasts too long around here.

When the questions begin

The other day I was talking with Clara about where babies come from (you know...tummies), and we began discussing, as we do at times, how she was adopted.
 

She has all the answers down - that Luke came from mommy's tummy, but that she came from another mommy's tummy. She likes to name everyone in her life who is adopted (her friend E, his brother and sister, her uncle Joe, Essie). I even once overheard her telling her Nana how she was really, really small when she was born (we've told her about being a preemie and her hospital stay).

We talk openly about adoption when it comes up and don't shy away from age-appropriate discussions.

But this time, she didn't just accept that she came from another mommy's tummy. Which shouldn't surprise me, with how grown-up she has become.

"What's her name?" she asked.

My heart sank.

After my mind did momentary cartwheels, I told her that we don't know her name but that we can call her Tummy Mommy (first thing I could think of, which I must have read on other blogs. Why wasn't I prepared for this?).

"No, I don't want to call her that," she said.

My heart sank again. She can see right through me, I thought.

"I want to call her Big Tummy Mommy!"

Phew. She's still three-years-old and was only being silly. Or, actually, she was probably being literal. After all, a pregnant tummy is big.

Clara wasn't finished though. As she climbed up to cuddle in the chair with me, her sweet little-kid voice asked a very big-kid question: "Can I meet her some day?"

I honestly can't even tell you what I answered. I probably said something along the lines of "maybe..." or "I don't know..." And she was fine with whatever it was. Like I said, she's still three.

But some day she won't be three and she won't be fine with Tummy Mommy's and I-don't-know's. She'll want more information than I'll probably be able to provide her. At least, not until she's of an age when she can legally search for it herself.

Of course, it's not the searching and the wondering I have a problem with; it's my little girl's heart. We don't want our kids to ever suffer, you know? As parents, we tear up over shots and skinned knees and God forbid someone doesn't want to play with them on the playground. You might as well rip my heart right out and stomp on it. So I sort of dread the day when she, or Essie, will want more details than I have to give, or will want to really know her birth parents, and will be sad.

Realistically, I know all of my children will experience suffering in their lives. But a mom can hope to minimize that, right? So I tell myself I'll do my best to comfort them and use it as an opportunity to teach them about the value in suffering and turning to God. I'll be able to put my years of infertility to good use - not that I mastered suffering during that time, but I definitely learned what doesn't work (i.e.  fighting it with every fiber of my being despite it being something I have zero control over, just in case you're curious).

I absolutely love that we have two daughters whose stories include adoption, and I hope they will be a support to each other when emotions may become confusing in the future. One of the closest people to them in their lives will share a part of their story and will understand, at least on some level, what they may be feeling.

But it's also the differences that worry me. We know so much about Essie's amazing birth family, so much I'm excited to share with her one day. We were blessed with the opportunity to meet her beautiful birth mother and I treasure those moments we had with her. We know where she gets her blue eyes, and her dark, curly hair.

But we know next to nothing about Clara's birth family, and it tears me up inside for her. I can just picture, years from now, her sad pre-teen face, not understanding why I can't fill in more of the blanks.

Although it hasn't even yet happened, I can't do anything to change that it may. But what I can do is teach all of my children that everyone's story is different and special. That everyone has hardships. And that life isn't fair.

And that, also, life is wonderful and beautiful and a gift from God that is to be cherished and relished.

It may not help her avoid the sadness, but I can only hope it helps it to pass more quickly.

I also know how one processes something like this depends a lot on their individual personality. Being adopted could be the defining moment of her life, or it could be just one of many things that makes her Clara, depending on her temperament. I hope I can do whatever I can to help it be the latter, for her own sake. It is important, don't get me wrong. But I hope with any negativity it may one day bring, that she can see beauty in it too. That it can teach her, firsthand, that God can make all things new.

For now, I will try to preserve the carefree, silly nature of childhood for as long as possible.

I will take her questions as they come and try to do my best as her mama. I may not have been her Tummy Mommy, but I was put on earth to protect her, care for her, and love her. And that I can handle.