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 | Hands Off My Mom!
by Amy Shore |
It’s interesting having two children 10 years apart. The other day, my 11-year-old wanted a makeup lesson because everyone at school is now wearing makeup. While I gave her a crash course in eye shadow and blush application, my 15-month-old was trying to take off her blanket sleeper. She had it completely unzipped, exposing her flowered undershirt, which she wrestled with. She had no luck freeing herself from the confines of her clothing. So at 8 a.m., my half-undressed little one and I waved bye-bye to my sixth grader who proudly showed off to the neighborhood girls her sparkling eyelids. What a dichotomy.
In some ways, my girls are similar. They are both affectionate and love to hug their mom. But this can bring controversy. We discovered this during a weekend when Miranda and I sat down together on the couch and held hands while we talked. Lucy toddled over and started to stare at us. Then she started to yell. Then she tried to push our hands apart. “Hands off my mom” she seemed to say in babyspeak.
Miranda was shocked. She couldn’t believe it. “She’s my mom, too,” my eldest said to her little sister, laughing at the burst of emotion this affection was causing. Miranda again held my hand, and again Lucy forcibly pushed our hands apart. Then Miranda hugged me, and that made Lucy even more angry. All 19 pounds of her tried to push our bodies apart, yelling the whole time until Miranda and I were untangled.
In an attempt to appease both girls, I lifted Lucy onto my lap, and we did a “group girl hug.” Lucy tolerated this for a moment and then again pushed Miranda away. “Hands off my mom!” she seemed to repeat again.
When I looked into Lucy’s stern face as she was defending her claim on me, I couldn’t help but feel proud and happy that my little one’s bond with her mother was so strong. After 13 months in Guatemala with her foster mother, she had to start all over again with a new female caregiver. She seemed to instinctively know that this one was for keeps. Or maybe she thought the first one was gone, so she better fight harder and stronger to keep this new one. Whatever the case, I reassured my girls I loved them both, kissing their soft cheeks and holding their hands in mine.
It’s amazing the amount of love we feel for our children and our children feel for us. In a topsy-turvy world where so much changes so fast, it’s wonderful to know some things never change. It’s important for Miranda to know that despite adopting a daughter, I still adore, cherish and fiercely love her with all of my heart. I told her how proud I am of her to share her parents.
After 10 years as an only child, it took a great deal of guts on her part to open her heart and willingly let someone else love her mom and dad. Sure, biological siblings do this all the time, but they don’t have a choice. In our case, Miranda had her eyes wide open. For her, it was a conscious choice. We discussed as a family our desire to adopt a child, and at age 10, Miranda was in the driver’s seat with us when it came to making decisions.
I remember feeling an incredible rush of love for her when her eyes softened as she thought about how special it would be to have a little sister because for her a brother was out of the question. She understood how wonderful it would be for a little person without parents to have parents and opportunities like she had. My Miranda is a generous, caring girl, and she felt secure enough in her world to give us the OK to move forward and open our hearts to another daughter. That is special indeed.
When Miranda comes home from school, she kisses her little sister. Lucy smiles at “Da” — her name right now for her big sister — and her face lights up. It’s playtime, she thinks, immediately running to the nearest wall so they can play hide-and-seek. When Miranda is practicing piano, Lucy listens, thrilled when her big sister finally lets her sit on her lap, and they play the keys together. Mealtime is fun for both girls because they share food and laughter. There is a mischievous, loving glint in their eyes when they look at each other. They are true sisters, despite the age gap. Their love for each other grows daily. It’s heartwarming to watch.
So until Lucy gets old enough to realize her mom is also Miranda’s mom, Miranda will giggle when Lucy tries to ply us apart and say, “Not fair” when Lucy is exclusively in my arms. It’s great to have the love of two different daughters, one in sparkling eye shadow and one in disposable diapers. They will both realize in time that there is enough love in my heart to cherish them both forever.
Amy Shore is a freelance writer and newspaper columnist who recently wrote the book “Waiting for Lucinda,” chronicling her daughter Lucy’s adoption from Guatemala. It is now available through www.publishamerica.com. Shore lives with her husband Dave and daughters Miranda and Lucy in the Houston area. To contact Shore, write to AShore75@houston.rr.com.
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