My Kid Is Cuter Than Yours
/When my husband and I adopted Jumby, we didn't really think about what he'd be bringing home with him. We were more concerned of the vast quantity of unknowns that comes with the closed adoption of a victimized five year old.
We worried about not knowing his biological history and we worried we didn't have a firm grasp on his medical issues. We worried about not knowing his preferences and we fretted over not having any pictures of him from his past.
We never worried about his personal belongings because we took for granted that everyone accumulates an assortment of items to call their own, even at the tender young age of five.
We were mistaken.
Our son came home with the clothes on his back, his wheelchair, his personal medical equipment, a bath seat and a ratty old blanket his former foster parents used to wrap him up like a burrito when he was 'acting out.'
We promptly trashed the ratty blanket when we got home. Jumby acts out about as much as fish in a bowl. He's awesome like that.
I can't replace the lost memories of my son's infancy or toddler years, nor can I acquire a complete medical history for my son unless I invited the very people who first victimized him back into his life.
But I could start giving the child his very own wardrobe to call his own. And boy have I done so with a vengeance.
Thanks to Babble and Old Navy offering the Jumbster a 150 dollar gift card for a sponsored shopping trip, I've been able to stuff even more clothes into his closet.
We worried about not knowing his biological history and we worried we didn't have a firm grasp on his medical issues. We worried about not knowing his preferences and we fretted over not having any pictures of him from his past.
We never worried about his personal belongings because we took for granted that everyone accumulates an assortment of items to call their own, even at the tender young age of five.
We were mistaken.
Our son came home with the clothes on his back, his wheelchair, his personal medical equipment, a bath seat and a ratty old blanket his former foster parents used to wrap him up like a burrito when he was 'acting out.'
We promptly trashed the ratty blanket when we got home. Jumby acts out about as much as fish in a bowl. He's awesome like that.
I can't replace the lost memories of my son's infancy or toddler years, nor can I acquire a complete medical history for my son unless I invited the very people who first victimized him back into his life.
But I could start giving the child his very own wardrobe to call his own. And boy have I done so with a vengeance.
Thanks to Babble and Old Navy offering the Jumbster a 150 dollar gift card for a sponsored shopping trip, I've been able to stuff even more clothes into his closet.
Jumby's new shirt reads: If you can read this you are in my way. Seriously, I'm gonna need you to move over a little. Which, for a boy in a wheelchair, it's the total truth.
Everyone needs new kicks now and then. Especially helpful if the kicks fit over his AFO's and can't be easily kicked off every two minutes.
If you'd like to read more about Jumby's little shopping adventure and witness him be the best little Zoolander out there, head on over to Hogwash from a Hoser.
There's links to a printable coupon you can use to get 30% off one item in the store, but more importantly, there are cute ass pictures of my kid up over there.
(What can I say? Sometimes the mommy blogger in me comes out loud and proud.)