To my fellow shopppers

Yes, these are all my children.
They are all, all three of them, brothers. Real brothers. Just watch them fight over the best place to watch a movie.
They are from Heaven. Same place all children come from.
I am their real mother. I really wipe the noses, tears and butts. I really deal with the "we have no bananas-so-you-can't-have-one-for-breakfast-s". I really feed, clothe and bathe them. I give them real hugs and kisses.
I really love them with all of my heart so much it hurts. They really all call me mommy.

They do have a birth mother. She loves them too. We love her. I imagine I love her in the way a man loves his wife after seeing her give birth and provide life for his children.
Her personal history (and the boys' personal history) is none of your damn business. Are you prepared to discuss your personal and sexual history? All the foods/drugs/substances you take or don't take? The most intimate and personal decisions you've made in your lifetime? Then why are you asking me in the grocery store?

My children know they are different. They see it every day when they cuddle with mom and dad and big brother. They see it as they play with hundreds of toys and books that are all filled with white children. When they see other families who all look alike. When they get older they will deal with the pain inflicted by the asinine assumptions by others that skin colors makes some sort of difference in a person. They have a hole in their heart the size of which most of us can never even fathom. They know what it is like to be born expecting to be loved by the mother who bore them. And then to be raised by another. That is lasting pain. It never goes away no matter how much love and stability they have. That is the loss of a mother at the most vulnerable time in life. Please don't spend our busy time pointing all of these things out to us.

I have lots of answers about adoption. So do lots of professionals. If you have an honest question, tell me. Ask me how to contact me. Give me your number. I would love to discuss this miracle with you and help you grow your family in this amazing way. I do have references for agencies, lawyers and websites. Over the apples when my children are screaming and hungry and tired of being in the store, or in front of my kids period, is not the place or time. If you are hit by a fit of idle curiosity and see us as a freak show, shut your trap. Turn around and head the other direction. I can often tell why you are asking. If you get a snarky answer, well you were asking an inappropriate question. Save your huffing.

I am grateful every day for my kids. I am grateful the Lord trusts me enough to be their mom. But we have typical days. I do not think about how they came to our family every day. They are just my kids. We get up (often too early). We eat breakfast. We have good days and not so good days. Just like you. We have sick days and healthy days. I wonder at the speedy growth of my kids. I cuddle them and love them. We have dinner squabbles and bedtime routines. I get frustrated with my lack of patience and mothering skills often.
They get frustrated with my lack of patience and mothering skills too.
Are they grateful? I don't know. They may not know until they are in their 20's and reach a developmental stage where they can process that. Maybe later. I don't know. For now, they love their mom and dad. They love doing fun things. They don't like being told no. They don't appreciate that they can't have everything they want. They get tired and cranky. They are kids. Do your kids thank you for being their mom and dad? Probably not. My kids are no different.

This is my family. I wouldn't change a thing. Try not to judge me harshly by what you see in 5 minutes or maybe even 5 years, and I will try to return the favor.