Since I began the whole adoption is knitting analogy, I figure it’s best to continue that:

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My adopted son and his flute, just hanging out:
Thank goodness, the night before, a bunch of us slammed out the kitchen and put all the food stuffs away from the party. Even though it was 2am, I knew that I would not want to face the hell that was my kithcen first thing in the am. The kitchen floor was horrible enough from people going back and forth with what little rain threatened us.

After digging my way to the coffee maker, I got the first pot going just in time for Colleen to arise from the dead. After getting all neurotic when he tried to walk out the door only a bit earlier, I was hesitant to go on the front porch, but… it was natural for me to do that with Col, and plus, the back yard was still in a very scary state. there would be no relaxing and waking up with kazillions of empty bottles strewn all over the place.

Max is so damn cute. He had his flute with him and was out on my porch, just chilling.

The responsible mommy part of me had to make a point of telling him that .. despite him coming down now for two super excellent parties in a row… we really don’t make a habit of it. Which, really, is true. I don’t pull off a wedding every day, and I don’t plan on turning 40 again anytime soon. Even with everyone already asking when the next bash will be.. it was a great time…that’s not happening! And while, of course, I have that desire for him to “like” me, and think I am cool, I also don’t want him to get the impression that we always party like it’s 1999.

As if he did. I think he just laughed at me.
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Allot of the day was just spent relaxing.
No one was sporting a hangover, but we had gone to bed really late. Plus the mess was pretty overwhelming, so there was some avoidance there as well.

At one point, we all were in the back yard and tackled the bottle returns verses plain old trash, re-stacking the borrowed chairs, folding the tables, bringing in glass wear, etc. Max joined in with the rest of us. Other than that, except when I noticed that pretty much all of us were picking on food, but him.. I had to pull a momma and tell him to eat something! The joke was on me, though, when he denied hunger and claimed that ” sometimes eating is not his thing”. Yup, I was giving my son the same hard time that my husband always gives me. Why can’t people get that just coffee in the am is sufficient?

Scarlett was all about hanging out which frequently means you have a loud girl yelling about all manners of little girl fluff right in your face. It’s not the greatest when you are not with the full take of sleep. She also is blessed with very bony butt, so miss-can’t-stand-still on a lap can sometimes be painful as well. Eventually, she wore out her welcome with me and made her way back to Max.

Reunited siblings equals heaven:
Just seeing them together like that, it was very hard not to get all weepy and emotional. I mean, I can still just stare at Max all the day and have this big dumb smile on my face.

Here is my only daughter, totally wrapped up in the arms of her biggest brother, sitting on his lap. She was happy, but I have to say, Max had the biggest, most pleased, smile on his face the whole time she was there.. and neither of them moved for quite a while…like over a half hour while.

Matt had the newer version of my now broken digital camera and took some absolutely great shots of them together. I’ll add them when he sends them to me.
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The music gene is genetic:
I have said that for years, but it is true, Unfortunately it is only attached to the Y chronoson, so only the boys have it. Garin returned from his night off and the three boys: Matt, Max and Garin all started talking shop. There was a trip down to the basement where Garin’s band holds practices and his new drum kit which he showed off along with his killer skills on the double bass petal. As much as I really could just follow Max around all day like a puppy dog, I also know that it is just as important for them to all form their own relationships. After all my brother is 28, max is almost 21 an garin is almost 17..so uncle, brother, brother all very interested in music.. they need their own time.

Funny, at one point, after aGarin had gone to work, the three of us were talking about music school as my brother went to Berkly in Boston and Max’s drummer goes there now. Matt was saying that really, at of all the music school, Berkely is still the only “mordern” opne that is not a conservatory Julliard classical place. When I exclained: “Don’t tell me that! You mean I’ll have to send another one of you to Boston?” They both laughed.

There was also a point where I had to inform them all that I had changed every one of their diapers: Matt, Max, Garin, Scarlett and Tristan..and that yes, they have all peed on me too at some point. You got to make those family connections no matter how unpleasant!

Max had also brought a great cow horn..meaning a horn made out of a horn of a steer. The tone of it was phenomenal and he swapped spit with Matt, Scarlett and Tristan..showing the little ones how to transfer the verbal “fart” sound to the mouth piece.

Being 12 years older than my brother, our visits always have allot of time when he is pulling facts and confirming our childhood stuff via my memory. It was pretty cool to be able to share that with Max as it was a very organic way for me to talk about “our family” without being at all preachy like. Being that we had the slides out the night before, comparisons to myself and my mother were easy.. quite a few guests thought that I was her and likewise, Scarlett to myself.. as they thought she was me. Unfortunately, seeing pictures of myself at the same age she is confirmed my sad suspicion that she will need braces. Poor kid has my teeth and the overbite of a deranged rabbit. Rye and I better start saving now.

There was a whole tooth conversation that resulted in us all blaming our huge vampire incisors on Grandpa and then we went to the nose, once again, cheerful, that no one had the big Santangelo honker. As Matt said, that gene died out with this generation. Max did not get the dainty Irish Corrigan nose, but I am able to say that it is his father’s. He didn’t bring up him up again, though Matt ( the man has no filter at all) broke into huge bouts of laughter about his name. I suppose it is a rather funny name, but I wouldn’t laugh in Max’s face about it. I do have to push the whole “met you father issue more” because I do believe it is good for them both, yet it was not the time. The bad thing about these parties and such is that we get no “alone” time, really.

Rye had bought a horseshoe set for the party and Scarlett was into playing. We really had put off the kitchen long enough by this time, and Rye and I went into wash some more. I kept grabbing peeks, which turned into long stares, of my son and daughter playing together. Again, it hurts to give up this time for myself, but yet, it is so amazing to watch them work through it on their own. I know that I would not be so amazed if they had just grown up together, but that’s not our lot in life..so these moments, they are so precious.

Getting to adoption nitty gritty:
I felt the time slipping by. I, of course, had to give him a hard time about never checking his emails especially now that the GF is done and I have lost the ‘secretary’ that would bug him for me. At least with her about, I would know that he knew I was trying to get hold of him. I know it’s not me, but that is just how he is. I was able to ask about the last email, we talked about how in demand an article writing together would be. He was pretty amazed so it seems that he was such an “unknown”, but as I explained..that he is male, that he is young, that he was found, that neither one of us is freaking out and can communicate.. what he says has great value to many. I think he really liked that idea and I said that I would start pitching it….as long as he checked his dern email!

Adoptee and Mother who relinquished are joined by an adoptive dad:
The other thing, from the email, that I wanted to get out there was the thought of the protest. It was actually pretty cool as by time I got to it, neighbors had popped by, so we were all hanging out. When I got to “protest”, Max chimed in that he “loved a protest”, which got Kevin and Charles interested in what we were saying.

I quickly explained the issue of surrendered birth certificates being sealed and how it was simply a violation of Max’s civil rights. Then it got really interesting as we found out that Charles young son was via adoption! I hadn’t known as they are pretty new to the neighborhood and my guess is that Charles didn’t know our deal either..so suddenly we had a relinquishing mom, and adult adoptee and a new adoptive father who had allot of questions!

It was pretty amazing, as I could see this change come over Max. His opinion was needed, his words were valued..and we had this really great constructive conversation about Charles’ son. It was an in family adoption and there is quite allot of contact within the whole family. Charles was really worried about when to tell his boy and how as he is under 2..fighting an urge to just pick and leave the whole mess, not out of bad fear, but wanting to protect his son from possible pain and confusion.

Max totally explained that it was much better knowing from day one. Both he and his adopted brother had grown up knowing that they were adopted and we both agreed that it was a good thing. As Charles went though some of his fears.. the “cousins” are really sisters, aunts are mothers, etc since it was his wives sitter’s baby.. we reassured him both together and separately that it needed to come from him and the sooner the better. That the truth was what it was.. that for his son. cousins were really sisters and that neither relationship had to be nullified to make one real. AS Max said “My parents are my parents and they always will be, but my mom is my mom too and that is the way it is”.

It was just so neat that it happened the way it did and Rye joined in only to reassure Charles that if he had questions, then we were THE ones to ask. You could see the worry fade in Charles..and I like to think that things will be easier for his son to deal with just based on the quick adoption prime we provided.Plus I defiantly think that Max enjoyed it..and that came right on the heels of me explaining how needed his voice was.

The End of Visit Time:
And then, it stared gettign dark. There was little more time to compare Max and my twin toes to Tristan who also has the same feet. Both kids needed to wash the dirt off themselves as Max and matt gather their things togther. We good naturally chastized them for making the same exact drive separatly and they discussed getting together back in Mass especially since Matt’s new condo is right by Max’s friends’ school. I told them they should both plan better for the next party, but, no again, we don’t make a habit of these wild shindigs!

The 24 hours of blissful time with my son was over..and with hugs all around, we saw them off. I had two remaining children to put tobed, the reassurance that my borther and son would make the drive back in entourage, and bless my husband, he had two lovely steaks all covered in a dry rub and ready to grill.

AS we sat in the now still back yard, even with the destructive force of adoption in my life, listening to the waterfall, warmed by the fire and with memories of max’s smile in my mind, I was very content.