July 9: I'll be helped by the fact that most people have kids, and life goes on normally. Unlike most people I won't have the expectancy and childbirth and all the attention that comes along with being a new mother, but all the same, the result will be a family of three.
13: Today I'm 36 and childless. Tomorrow I will be 36 and have a 14-year-old. Most people who wake up with a teenager at least have some idea how to deal with that person. I am completely new to this.
14: On our way to the airport to get him, Dan asked me what time a 14-year-old should go to bed. “Let's ask Cooper,” I said. “He's the expert in what a 14-year-old should do!”
All day he must feel like he's on a game show where the introductions never end. What is your favorite cereal? What vegetables do you like? What time do you get up in the morning?
15: Starting to realize that there is no “supposed to” in parenting. I had a TV show playing (in retrospect a way-too-adult one?), and an actress said the word “tit.”
“Cooper,” I asked. “Can you watch a show with the word 'tit' in it?” We both got the giggles.
Later I chastised myself a bit. Another character in the show was painted as a monster because she let her child bike without a helmet. What if I'm making all the wrong decisions? What if, in the future, I let him bike without a helmet or watch a tit-word show? What if I don't, and can't, love him the way natural parents love?
I remind myself that our job is to give him a safe, secure home and that nobody is perfect.
Nobody is perfect. And natural parents ask themselves the same questions, berate themselves, have doubts.
Nobody is perfect. If he has a place to live where there is true affection for him, we can't mess it up that badly.
It doesn't feel natural. You hold your children when they are born. You become intimate with their lives, with their needs and appetites and moods.
My sister-in-law, the woman who knew all those things about him, is lost forever. All I can do is hope that I don't let her down in some way and do my best.
16: Dan is a natural giver of care. He isn't phased by having a sleepy child stumble downstairs in need of breakfast. I have the vague feeling, and possibly the shadow of an expression on my face, that an alien just entered our living room.
19: Today he slept until 1:30, the latest for him yet. It's a Sunday in the summer, so I thought it's a luxury he may as well enjoy while he can. When we didn't see him an hour after noon, Dan got worried. “Do you think we should go make sure he's alright?” he asked. I teased him, mentioned getting a baby monitor, called him a nervous new parent. But I was a little worried, too.
20: Realized my job at the beach was to watch him whenever he is swimming. Didn't make it less relaxing, since I frequently like to sit and look out at the water. But it did make it slightly more interesting, knowing that if I took my eyes off him anything could happen and I would be to blame.
21: A boy is something else. I don't think I can identify too much with him. Left the house today with the idea of taking a driving tour, first to Hollywood, then the Farmer's Market/Grove, possibly downtown L.A. By the end of our walk down Hollywood Boulevard, realized that he wanted to do nothing but go to the magic store (wish he'd told me before we left the Valley!) or buy tickets to watch Disney Pixar's “Up” at the El Capitan. He was pacified by a drive to Compton to see gangsters and a stop at a McDonald's in Hawthorne, just to flirt with danger. I was going to have my driving tour, darn it! On the way home pointed out the Getty and got a lukewarm response to my inquiry about his interest in museums. It did start a useful discussion of last school year.
I suppose my idea to road-tour Ventura County tomorrow is off. I bet we will go see “Up.”
