i used to think i was adopted. i would spend hours looking at my birth certificate searching for white out, typos, something that would tip me off that it was a fake. i didn't think it was possible that i could truly be related to my parents; adoption had to be the answer.
physically i look nothing like either one of them. my mom is a short, compact, curvy, black haired, brown eyed mexican woman. my dad is a tall, thin, lanky, dirty blond, blue eyed, red skinned [native american indian background] caucasian man.
then there's me:
tall compared to my mother, but short compared to average.
i don't have long legs or a long torso, but i'm not compact the way my mom is either. on a good day, when she's wearing a highly supportive bra, i would say there's about 2" between the girls & her waist - so about as compact as one can get. i remember when i was a little girl & she would help me get dressed & she would pull my pants up, WAY up so they would sit what felt like my throat practically & finally i would yell "you're hurting my peepee" [seriously she was!] my pants so dang high! then she would tell me that's where her waist was [around her throat somewhere, so we're all clear...].
i'm not curvy. i'm getting curvy after having a child, turning 38 years old & finally getting a little meat on my bones. my mom however had curves that would stop traffic when she weighed 100lbs...
my hair is dark brown & my eyes are too, although not as dark as my mom's.
i guess i ended up being a weird mixture of the two.
lately on our trips to the library Z's been picking out some of the books they have on display. they're appropriate for his reading level, so i don't see the harm, but they're usually books that are a little off the beaten path. a few that he's brought home recently included something along the lines of:
"we just moved"
[we moved 6 months ago, no big deal] then there was:
"my adoptive mommy is the best mommy"
[it's good for him to learn about different family types] but the best one was:
"my parents are getting a divorce"
[which he got when the in-laws were visiting & i'm pretty sure no matter how much i tried explaining Z picked it out by himself, there was nothing behind it, blah, blah, blah, everything is fine with B & I, etc, that yeah, they think something is amiss. such is life].
then Z asked me the other day - am i adopted?