We continue to settle in, test each other out, and find our patterns. It’s going well. But I need a break!

Time for our week at family camp, which we’ve done with my godson for years. I’m excited to get out into the trees and ridiculous fun of tie-dye, campfire shows, and mess hall food. But I’m a little worried too. I really need nature, the outdoors, quiet. You could say it’s one of my most core loves. So of course I’d love the kids to like it too. What if they don’t?

Probably my own enthusiasm will be enough to at least get them to tolerate it. I mean, do they have a choice? And it’s easy to underestimate the influence we have. I was terrified when our daughter initially wouldn’t let us read more than a page of a book to her, but less than 3 months later she’ll let us read 3 or 4 books a night. It’s really important to us, and so she’s taken it on as “something we do.” Surely s’mores, fire smoke, and cold mountain nights are in the same category?

In other news we’ve gotten ourselves a therapist, who works with attachment and adoption. We really need “adult support.” (The kids have two social workers, two therapists, an attorney, and probably a few other people I can’t remember right now).

We knew all parents sometimes feel angry, guilty, tired, confused, and not sure they’re up for the task. But it’s sure nice to be getting help from somebody who has deep experience with all this in the context of adoption. And she’s practical and gives homework, two great things.

Now all I need is a bit too much sun on my nose and a few naps under the pine trees. See you in a week!