lies we filter

Since my husband and I are not present for family visits sometimes finding out details of what big brother and little sister experience and are told is a mystery until they talk about it.

Tonight’s bedtime routine…

Big brother:  (Points to the picture by his bed of his classmates and tells me the name of each friend.  Then he points to a picture of our family – himself, little sister, my husband and me.  While pointing to my face…)

Big brother:  That’s you… [my bio mom] says you’re not my mom.

Me:  You’re so special you have two moms and two dads.  What do you say?

Big brother:  [Bio mom] says she is my only mom.

Me:  Ms. Soandso (play therapist) says I’m mommy Marcy and she’s mommy [bio mom first name].  Ms.  Othersoandso (social worker) says I’m you’re foster mom.

Big brother:  (Points to another photo of our family and says…) Little sister, Daddy, Mommy.

Thoughts going through my head while reading big brother a bedtime story…

Did I do the right thing?  I used names consistent with what the kiddos are taught during play therapy.

Does [bio mom] understand how confusing this to the kiddos who go to school and are surrounded by other kiddos who squeal “Mom!” and “Dad!” when they are picked up from school?

—

Earlier today… big brother wanted to watch a DVD he received as a Christmas gift from my sister-in-law and family.  He has been asking a lot about the story of Jesus and how he died.  This movie used claymation to answer a lot of his questions.  (Thanks for the gift, sister-in-law and family!)

The movie concludes after Jesus dies, rises from the dead, and is on earth for a few more days.

Big brother:  Mom, when you die, will you be buried in a tomb?

Me:  No, that was a long time ago.  Today people are usually put into caskets and buried underground.  But I’d rather be made into a corral reef and be in the water with fish.

Big brother:  What about dad?

My husband:  I want to be made into dust and sprinkled on my family’s farm.

Big brother:  Mom.  I want to be a reef like you.

Me:  Sounds good.

Big brother:  I don’t want to die anytime soon.

Me:  Me neither.  But we don’t have to worry because we all die when it’s our time.

Big brother:  When is it our time?

Me:  Some people live a long time, others are younger.  It just depends when we are done living.

Big brother:  How come [bio grandpa] died?

Me:  It was his time.

Big brother:  But he was sick and the doctor wasn’t open.

Me:  [Big brother], remember, we talked about this?  That isn’t true.  The hospital is always open.

Big brother:  But not on Christmas and holidays.

Me:  Yes, on Christmas, and all holidays people work at the hospital.  Remember, we have a lot of friends that are doctors and nurses and they or someone they work with works on holidays so the hospital is always open and able to help people.

What I want to say…

[Bio grandpa] did bad drugs and died of an overdose. But I can’t say this right now because the bio family told the kiddos he died because a doctor wasn’t open.

Filtering these kinds of conversations is in part why we chose not to celebrate Santa.

Published 12/27/2014