We got through the weekend! Father’s Day tends to go better than Mother’s Day here, which I think is pretty typical in adoption. You just don’t have the whole Forced replacement of someone I loved who disappointed me factor with adoptive Dads.  Instead, Dads are like unicorns – something kids heard might be real but hadn’t fully experienced.

#1 Cherub hit it out of the park this year. He went to CVS on his own on a break between shifts at work, picked out a nice card and a gift, and then also got something for me because, “I feel like I didn’t do enough for you on Mother’s Day.”  All with his own planning power and hard earned cash.

I LOVE these moments when he jumps to a new level of maturity. It’s so fun to watch, and it’s filled with these surprises and unexpected moments. I’m learning to savor highlights rather than letting them fly by. It’s encouraging to celebrate what’s going right in our family life.

This weekend was also #2 Cherub’s 8th grade dance.

She looked lovely, and the lead up to the event had some humorous moments, such as when she emailed me a link to the dress she wanted me to order.

– It was hundreds of dollars.

– Because it was custom made.

– IN ENGLAND.

I didn’t think we needed to establish that we are not a Custom-gown-from-England-for-a-middle-school-dance kind of family. I thought that was obvious, what with all the shopping at Target (not to mention the story of how Steve had to talk me out of trying to find my wedding dress at Goodwill). But apparently not. Lesson learned.

I found something similar on Amazon for a fraction of the price. It (and she) was gorgeous.

Let me close by inviting you to please note my fine photography skills: how in these two photographs, I captured key UNIQUE BACKGROUND ELEMENTS not found in typical pictures today. First, the look of consternation on Bergie’s face as she realized that one of her sheep was about to leave. Then, Steve’s giant blue hockey bag, dropped in the driveway so he could give #2 a hug, after which I drove her to her friend’s house, where better parents would take other – presumably better, but definitely less unique – pictures.

What I lack in perfectionism, I make up for with a fond appreciation for “Yep, that’s good enough.”

I highly recommend it.