Realizing My Identity

I've worn lots of different hats in my life. My boyfriend in junior high called me a "braino" probably because I liked math and got good grades. He was a blue-eyed, freckled "jock." In high school maybe I was a student leader since I was really into student government and various clubs. Although my HS boyfriend called me a hippie probably because I rarely wore make-up and often wore mens boxers as shorts. (I did however shave regularly. Also note he is NOT my friend on facebook, although if he requested, I'd probably confirm.) Perhaps my favorite time of life was my swim teacher days when I bought 4-5 bathing suits and lived in them for the summer--teaching swim lessons, lifeguarding and driving my big red convertible (which I still can't let go of). I've always been a daughter and cousin, then a sister and friend, then a wife, aunt, sister-in-law, and daughter-in-law. I was once a BYU coed, a retirement home attendant, a newlywed, Target security guard, grad-student, a HS math teacher--then college math professor, and eventually a mom. I do have to say the security guard and life guard jobs best prepared me for the mom job.

During different phases of life people identify you differently--the length of your hair, the car you drive, the school you go to, where you sit in church, the job you have, the street, house or neighborhood you live in, so and so's sister, or you know--the one with 3 "active" boys, etc.

Today I realized something. A mom at swim lessons asked, "So these three boys are your boys?" She was a nice friendly Asian lady there with her 3 kids too. It's a very fair question. I was there the day before with an additional 2 extra kids--a blond brother and sister, 18 months and 4 years old. I'm quite a spectacle I guess. Usually it's fairly easy to know who's kids belong to who. But mine don't look like me or look like each other, yet they all call me mom (loudly and all day long, over and over). Each one of them handsome and amazing in his own unique charming way. Heart-breakers all three.

So when people ask, "Are these three boys your boys?" I just smile and say. "Yes, they are. They might not look it, but they are definitely mine." I usually throw something in about adoption which helps them understand. They usually have questions about foreign or domestic adoption, or they have a story of their own to share. Some ask about their birth families. Most people are very nice and just want to understand. There's the occasional person who assumes I've had way too many "husbands." (I usually write those off as just--sad.) I feel people's eyes on me a lot. I'm usually too busy to look back at them or smile. Here and there a few have the courage to say something. I'm always glad when they do, I'd rather tell them than have them stare at me. I'd rather be their friend than some weird lady with random children calling her mom. And I really appreciate the people who think about what they say before they say it, especially in front of my boys.

I guess in the past I've been the married lady with no kids, the lady hoping to adopt, the lady with one son--hoping for another child, then the foster mom with her hands full, but now I'm the lady with the 3 mismatched, very attractive, and active boys. And I think I like that hat the best so far. Of all my identities I like this one the best. I like what it says about me and what's really important to me. I think it's the most meaningful and long term, far reaching, greatest impact. I love who I am.

P.S. Luke has changed the phrase in his prayers from "please help us to find our baby sister" to "please help us to find our baby sister SOON." I guess he feels pretty strongly about our family rainbow needing some pink. (if you know me, you know pink is NOT my color.) He's always loved the ladies. Of coarse for now, I'm his favorite lady.