I have a confession to make. I still haven’t done Boo’s life story book yet. I was supposed to. I swore up and down I’d do it 2 years ago. I just kept meaning to and had it all sorted out in my head and I always had some excuse. And now the questions are starting. And we’re filling him in on more and more. We told him about his birthmother a long time ago, but as he’s getting older, the explanations are getting longer and longer and now he knows he has 2 brothers. And though he often just wants a short answer before he changes the subject, I sense that his lifebook would come in handy right about now.
He’s always been the kind of kid that would make a great big brother or little brother. Pretty much where he fits in the life he could have had. He remarked recently that he would like to have a younger brother to play with; just like his friends/cousins who share a room. Recently, hubby split with his best friend/partner in business and since they’re not really on friendly terms at the moment, we haven’t seen a lot of his boys. And for the first time ever, the ex volunteered to have Boo over for a sleepover so they could spend time together. Sigh. I really wish we could have had another child but life just didn’t turn out that way.
I think the reason I just didn’t do the book was I started out being so insecure as his mother. When he was tiny, it was it was all I could do to concentrate on just the mechanics of being a new mother, creating new family traditions, building our family unit. Then came the toddler years of just trying to keep him alive. Then school started and new routines were established and the engine of family life just shifted into high gear. Oh, I read him adoption stories and told him he was adopted but he just wanted reassurance that he was ours forever. It wasn’t until he became older that he became very curious about his origins. His questions are quite random but persistent as he navigates through his world.
While we were in a dollar store the other day, he sat down in an empty carton and I joked oh, my how much is this little boy and he joked he was $10. Then later in another store he asked me how much he cost. Like, when we were in the dollar store, $10? No, he said, when he was with his birth mother, how much did he cost? Who asked you this? Nobody asked me, I just want to know. You didn’t cost anything, I never paid for you – you’re priceless! He smiled shyly and then we looked for marshmallows.
Some days he asks about the nature of death, how long will I live, or how tall he will be or why I have bumps on my face. He asks why was he born black though people say he’s brown. He wants to know a lot of things.
I started his book tonight and instead of trying to make it perfect, I’m just going to do the best I can.