It’s raining today. Appropriate.

We made these cupcakes yesterday. I shared them here, in their finished state, for those who maybe don’t know our story. It would have helped if I had written a long, eloquent post about the Munchkin, her birth and our open adoption but today’s post space at Chronicles was taken up by the Primal Wound blog tour. Possibly appropriate but definitely heart-wrenching. Suffice it to know that six years ago I gave birth to the most amazing girl this world has ever known.

I’m off to email these shots to her. She’s enjoying Disney World today. I hope to catch some of the boys devouring their cupcakes later tonight and send those off as well. For now, we’re off to BigBrother’s Christmas program. Our lives seem so separate in paragraphs like these but, at the same time, so closely tied together.

Happy Birthday, Munchkin. Forever in my heart.

I know that I’m touchy about certain aspects of parenting and, more specifically, my parenting. I realize that my emotions are on overdrive this weekend as Munchkin’s birthday is on Sunday. I’m touchy, moody and will likely dissolve into a puddle of tears and/or a screaming maniac if you look at me sideways. Maybe even if you look at me directly. Even when Munchkin’s birthday is not on the immediate horizon, I’m still kind of touchy about my parenting. As I was once made to believe that I wasn’t good enough to parent, I have this overzealous need to prove that I am, in fact, The Best Parent Alive. At All Times. Ever.

This may also have something to do with my perfectionist personality. Double whammy on the issues! I never do things halfway, do I?

Perfectionism aside, you can insult me about my writing, my photography, my crazy hair, the fact that I always wear green or just about anything under the sun and I’ll merely rant about you to my husband. If you insult my parenting, or, rather, if I even think you are insulting my parenting, all bets are off. When I say all bets are off, I mean that I’m going to go out to my vehicle and cry. So, really, I wouldn’t worry too much about yourself. I have no bite.

It happened today at the checkout while running errands with LittleBrother. It’s cold out right now. It hit 26 degrees just a few minutes ago and that’s a heatwave. LittleBrother and I were bundled in our coats and he still had his very adorable knit hat atop his head. As I swiped my card and entered numbers without my gloves on because I can’t press numbers on a touch screen pad with gloves on, the cashier says to LittleBrother in a sing-songy, judgmental voice, “Where’s your gloves little buddy? It’s too cold for you to be out without gloves on.”

I paused. I looked across the counter. I had my Mama Bear Eyes blazing and my Serious Voice on.

“They’re in his pocket.”

I said nothing more. I said nothing of how he hates gloves, mittens or anything that covers his hands. I said nothing of how it is a fight but we still put them on, screaming and wailing the whole time. (Him, not us. Most of the time.) I said nothing of how I take them off when we get in somewhere warm so he doesn’t have something to whine and fuss about as we make our way through the store because I, unlike some people, don’t like to bug others in stores. Or checkout lines. You know. I did, and I mean I really did want to say, “His gloves must be wherever you left your manners today.” But I didn’t.

Because I felt judged.

I felt that this woman was judging me as an unfit mother for taking my son out in the cold weather without gloves. I wanted to crawl under a rock with my son, with gloves on, and just cry for awhile. I didn’t as there are very rarely large rocks at the end of checkout counters. I finished the transaction, stood too long at the end of the aisle and loudly talked with LittleBrother as I put his gloves on his poor, pitiful, but not even remotely cold little hands. I may have shot a smug look in the direction of the cashier as I walked away.

But I cried when I got out to the vehicle.

There are things in life that I don’t care if I’m good at or, even maybe more importantly, things that I don’t care if the rest of the world doesn’t know or think I’m good at. Parenting is not one of those things. While I admit my faults (remember me talking about yelling too much?), I really can’t handle passing judgment. It’s even worse if it is judgment from someone within my family or friend circle but passing judgment still hurts. I’ve worked very hard on trying not to be a helicopter parent at the playground or elsewhere, knowing that my issues with adoption often lead me to overprotectiveness. At the same time, while I’m forcing myself to sit still at the playground and let them try out their wings, hopefully not literally, I fear that other parents are looking at me and wondering why I’m not at their side every second. I try so hard to not only be the best parent I can be but to get past these darn issues.

And I fail. A lot. Too much.

This is all just a long winded way of saying: if you see my children without gloves, look in their pockets before calling Child Protective Services on me. I really don’t want to have to use my Serious Voice on you.

Or LittleBrother to have to smile you to death in his adorable knit hat and very warm jacket. Ahem.

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[For more Wordless Wednesday, visit 5 Minutes for Mom.]

Our mountain vacation, as you may have read over on The Chronicles of Munchkin Land, was also a visit with the Munchkin and her family. It was a fabulous time for all of us. Somewhat relaxing for the two adults (you know, as relaxing as four children can be). And lots of fun for the kids. The Munchkin and I had some of our own moments but what touched me the most were the moments that TheBrothers had with their sister.

BigBrother had been talking about the visit for a full week. On the morning that we were set to leave, he had a small break down when I informed him that he still had to go to school first. He was so excited that he was jumping up and down, making it impossible to put pants on. The joy on his face was contagious, or, perhaps, my own joy at the visit was contagious. All the same, he was a happy little-big dude when we finally got there (only to be disappointed that his sister was sleeping). He enjoyed playing with the Munchkin and JD. There were small issues, of course, as there are when any children attempt to play together but, for the most part, they had a great time together.

What was even more touching for me was watching the Munchkin with LittleBrother. Due to circumstances that were really above and beyond the control of those involved who cared, LittleBrother had never met the Munchkin. I had talked about her since the day he was born, just as I had with BigBrother, but we were unable to get together until just now. Life happens, right? As such, watching my youngest child meet his sister and then follow her around like she was the best thing since Bee Crackers warmed the heck out of my mommy heart.

Some people teased me for taking close to 600 of my own pictures on our visit. These two pictures I’ve thrown together for today’s Love Thursday are a reason as to why I did such a thing. While we have another visit scheduled for this coming May, I need to be able to look back on happy moments like these when the dark days of grief roll in as they are bound to do. The healing process has hills and valleys. I’m still on that post-visit high right now. But there will be moments between now and the next picture-fest in which I will need to look at this picture and realize how truly blessed I am. I have so much.

To clarify: I  have so much love.

[For more Love Thursday, visit Chookooloonks.]