A couple of weeks ago, we were eating breakfast at Whataburger. Maya was cadging bites of my biscuit smothered in sausage gravy (how very Southern of us!), and Zoe was rummaging in my purse for a pen and something to write on (she finds the cardboard-thingy they put in a package of tights, don't ask what it was doing in my purse!) A typical weekend morning for our clan.
Zoe is scribbling away, and I'm trying to get my fork back from Maya, and then Zoe passes me a note: "Adoption is hard to understand." Too many people around to talk about it, so I write back: "Yes, but it helps when you talk about your feelings." Zoe jots a short answer: "True Mama." I like that: is it "True, Mama" or is it "True Mama"?!
When we were at second-grade orientation last week, the school counselor was introduced. Zoe asked me later what a counselor was, and I was explaining that it was someone you could talk to about your feelings. "Ohhhh, like talking about my birthparents." Right!
I also reminded Zoe that her Mimi was a counselor (she worked with terminal cancer patients, not school children). Zoe's response: "So that's what makes her a great grandmother!"