Category: Tapestry

This post originally appeared on Tapestry on August 13, 2013.

On Wednesday, I was sitting watching my oldest daughter in her gymnastics class when I heard, “Excuse me but you look familiar, do you go to IBC (Irving Bible Church)? Have you ever spoken up front?” As I answered yes to both of these questions, I found out that this fellow mom remembered when my husband and I talked in front of our church about our daughter’s adoption story. This was about 3 and ½ years ago. I was amazed that she remembered, but she said, “I remember because it was touching.” Who knew that over 3 years after my husband and I told our story, I would run into someone who remembered it at gymnastics. Who knew a story could make such an impact?

As I am reminded of when we shared our story, my daughter is also asking, “Tell me about the time you got me in Vietnam.” So I have been retelling this story, sharing videos and pictures as often as she asks. My daughter wants to know her own story of how she came to be in our family. She wants to remember. And I wonder how I could be more intentional about connecting her past with our present.

How do you share your child’s story with them? How do you connect their past to the present? Do you have books, videos, pictures? Do you wait for them to ask or do you share their story with them at specific times (like the anniversary of their adoption day)? Do you do anything special?

How do you share your child’s story with others? Maybe you would like to share something with us? We would love to hear them.

This post originally appeared on Tapestry’s website on July 23, 2013.

As my husband and I continue on our adoption journey, we have met people who are willing to be vulnerable and share their experiences as an adoptee. Recently I’ve read interviews with Tara Bradford and Carissa Woodwyk.

Tara’s interview was shared in a two part series: Day 17 Listening to Adult Adoptees, Part I and Day 18 Listening to Adult Adoptees, Part II

I enjoyed all of Tara’s thoughts, and I want to highlight some specific quotes:

“We never talked about it…In looking back at my childhood, I can see how that was very disempowering to me as a transracial adoptee.” 

“We must never minimize or gloss over the fact that adoption begins with the loss of one family and the gain of another. The adopted child is caught in the middle of this dynamic and yet is the one who seems most powerless of their life circumstances.”

Carissa’s interview was shared in the blog post, Meet Carissa, here are some specific quotes:

“My parents willingly answered the questions as best as they were able to and then the conversation was done. I stopped asking. They didn’t ask.”

 “They didn’t talk about the impact of being relinquished. They didn’t show grief about my abandonment. They didn’t invite me to be curious and ask questions about my birth story. They didn’t talk about what it felt like to not belong and feel different. They didn’t ask what it was like for me to be adopted. They didn’t name that there was brokenness and beauty in my story. They didn’t talk about God’s heart for me and the fractured places I came from.”

“For redemption to take place, the brokenness and suffering first have to be acknowledged. For healthy identity to be cultivated, one has to know who they are and where they’ve come from to know where they are going.” 

And in both their interviews, I hear, “They didn’t ask; they didn’t engage.” So I reflect on my conversations with my daughter and our journey thus far, and I think…I willingly answer when she asks, but do I continue the conversation? Do I ask her what she thinks? Do I ask her how she feels? Or do I breathe a sigh of relief when she stops asking for that day? When I don’t have to leave the present and be reminded of her past?

And as I reflect, I am reminded of my own experience of self-discovery and reflection. In the blog post Hurting Families, Healing Churches, Amy Curtis mentions the Adult Attachment Interview. Through Tapestry my husband and I experienced a small scale version of an Adult Attachment Interview, and I honestly thought I would pass with flying colors (which shows I didn’t understand the process at all). And when I got my results, I was crushed because I wasn’t perfect and I wasn’t going to be the perfect parent. I have my own hang ups that I have to accept and work through.

I have to work on engaging in emotional situations, or I won’t be able to help my daughter find healing as she processes her adoption story. I have to engage even if I’m uncomfortable. I have to learn how to talk about loss. I have to let my child see my own emotions. I have to be okay with making mistakes and not being right. I have to be okay with me, so I can help my daughter see and learn who she is – who I know her to be, who God is molding her to be.

I have to look at patterns in my life that need adjustment, so I can be available to her. It would break my heart to hear my daughter say, “My mom and dad didn’t ask,” but at the same time, if she felt that way, I would hope I had learned to engage in those feelings and find reconciliation.

I’m not going to get it right. I’m going to make mistakes. But I am thankful that like Amy Curtis says, I have the support of my church.

This post originally appeared on Tapestry’s website on July 9, 2013.

When I think about play, I think about a child playing by herself. In May of 2008, Dr. Stuart Brown delivered a TED Talk titled, “Play is More than Fun.” At the beginning of his talk he contrasted a 15^th-century painting of children playing in a courtyard and a more recent picture of children playing from The New York Times Magazine. In the more recent picture, all the children were playing alone, while in the old painting the children were engaged in solo play, body play, games and taunting. Dr. Brown goes on to say that 124 different kinds of play were represented in the painting, and he offers an interesting conclusion: “We may have lost something.”

He also said, “The basis of human trust is established through play signals,” and “the opposite of play is not work; it is depression.” Together these statements make me wonder, “Do I play with my children?” And just as important, “How do I play with my children?

Those questions prompted me to take a look at an article from the Tapestry archive titled, “What’s Your Play Personality?” I decided that my play personality is the Explorer because I like to set up activities (play dates, visiting museums, aquariums, the zoos, baking, etc.). But my husband doesn’t — he is more the artist and storyteller — so when we play with our children it looks very different. My husband teaches them to draw, makes up stories, and builds Lego towers, while I want to take our girls somewhere and do something with them.

Sometimes I feel like my husband really plays and I don’t, but the truth is that our play personalities just look different. We connect with our children in different ways, and not only is that okay, it’s actually helpful. Through our different styles and activities, my husband and I are inviting our children to develop different skills and capacities.

If you’ve never processed through the different play personality profiles, it’s worth your time. For one thing, you might see that play is more diverse and dynamic than you thought. On a more practical level, you might get some ideas for the kinds events and activities that don’t come naturally to you. Taking a cue from Dr. Brown, it’s good for all of us to expand our understanding of play so that we can better connect with our kids and help them develop into the people we know they can be.

Have fun!

This post originally appeared on Tapestry’s website on June 25, 2013.

In our first home we had a carbon monoxide detector that plugged in to an outlet and was easily knocked out of the wall. When it was knocked out of the wall, it emitted a continuous obnoxious beep until it was plugged in again and reset. All you cared about was stopping the shrill sound and later figuring out what happened and who might be responsible. And we always plugged the carbon monoxide detector back into the same spot; we never moved it away from a high traffic area to cut down on the possibility of knocking the carbon monoxide detector off the wall. We focused on stopping the shrill continuous obnoxious beep; we focused on the quickest fix.

Sometimes our children are the ones emitting the shrill continuous obnoxious sound, and we may do whatever it takes to pacify them, to just get them to stop, and then get mad at what or whoever set them off. We may even try to ignore the sound though that could prove pretty difficult. I suggest that we focus on the shrieking behavior that we want to stop instead of the perceived instigator.

Try the IDEAL response mentioned in yesterday’s post.

IDEAL stands for:

I – Immediate


D – Direct


E – Efficient


A – Action-based


L – Leveled at the behavior (not the child)

Last night my two year old received new panties, and we disagreed on what to do with them. She screamed and stomped her feet because she wanted to wear her panties to bed, and I said no because we needed to put on a diaper. But I remembered that in the IDEAL response, Dr. Purvis talks about giving your child voice and levels of response, so though my two year old may not fully understand compromise or making a deal. I introduced it. I said, “Do you want to make a compromise?” which she said no because she’s two and in the no phase. But I said, “How about we make a compromise, make a deal and put your panties on over your diaper for bed time.” And she said, “yes,” screaming, tears, and stomping stopped and bedtime routines happily continued.

And in the grand scheme of things did it really matter if she wore her panties to bed? No, it mattered that she learned she had a voice and could ask for things instead of screaming and stomping. So give the IDEAL response a try, you may be surprised at how your children respond.

This post originally appeared on Tapestry’s website on June 18, 2013.

Does the start of summer strike fear or dread in your heart? Are you overwhelmed with planning how to entertain your children? Do you scour Pinterest for new ideas? (Did we mention we are on Pinterest? You can follow us – Tapestry and Empowered to Connect.) Well the Wall Street Journal posted an article about boredom entitled A Smart Answer to the Season of ‘I’m Bored’.

In the article some families talk about their feelings and how they approach boredom, and there were some statements that left me questioning myself, my thoughts and feelings. I asked myself:

How do you feel when your kids say they’re bored?

“”We assign a lot of social meaning to boredom,” says John D. Eastwood, an associate professor of psychology at York University in Toronto, and lead author of the study. “When children complain of being bored, parents sometimes are threatened, thinking, ‘What’s wrong with you?’ Or they judge themselves as parents, thinking they failed to bring up their child to have the proper character or skills,” he says.” A Smart Answer to the Season of ‘I’m Bored’

Have you ever wonder what else your child may be feeling besides a sense of boredom?

“Kids who complain of boredom aren’t necessarily lazy or slacking off, but are actually in a tense, negative state, says a 2012 study in the journal Perspectives on Psychological Science. Frustrated and struggling to engage, they often find themselves unable to focus their attention or get started on satisfying activities…Many youngsters in the grips of boredom show physiological symptoms of stress, such as an accelerated heart rate and elevated levels of the hormone cortisol, according to research co-written by James Danckert, a psychology professor specializing in cognitive neuroscience at the University of Waterloo in Ontario, Canada. Other studies link boredom to nail-biting and emotional eating.” A Smart Answer to the Season of ‘I’m Bored’

So what should we do when our kids feel bored?

“…, parents should “take a deep breath, step back” and help children explore solutions for themselves…” A Smart Answer to the Season of ‘I’m Bored’

In addition to the statements above, this article also brings up the idea that a child could be overwhelmed with unstructured play time; the child could not know where to begin. So we need to talk to our children and explore solutions and suggest ideas to help break the boredom. One of the parents in the article has a boredom buster jar which I am sure Pinterest would have a ton of ideas on this.

I encourage you to read this article in its entirety. Let us know what you have found works for your family and share your ideas with us. We look forward to hearing from you!

This post originally appeared on Tapestry’s website on June 11, 2013.

My oldest daughter has a question, a personal question. She has asked me this question twice while I’m driving and she’s in the backseat, and she has phrased it the exact same way. She asked me the week before Mother’s Day and five days before her birthday.

I welcome her questions and I wish I had longer answers. But what I’m left with is the reminder that she is thinking. She is processing what adoption means for her. And honestly in the busyness of life it’s something I can push to the back of mind, but for her it keeps popping up, for her it’s present – it’s about her.

So I’m wondering what other questions this summer will bring. I’m wondering if my daughter will ever find satisfying answers. I’m wondering if I will remember to be patient and compassionate even if she asks the same question 100 times, and I’m wondering how you handle you own child’s questions.

Do you cringe? Does your heart soften? Do you put them off? Do you give them your full attention? Do you return to it later or wait for them to bring it up again? Do you invite more questions? What do you do?

So far I’ve answered and it’s such a touching question that I can’t help but feel compassion and empathy for my daughter. How do you feel when your child asks questions about their past, their beginning? How are you connecting with your child while they are grappling with making sense of their stories?

I would love to hear your thoughts, just remember to be respectful of your child’s privacy and story.

This post originally appeared on Tapestry’s website May 7, 2013.

I am a teacher, a special education teacher. I understand that each child is unique. I am an adoptive parent. I have been through Empowered to Connect Parent Training classes. I understand that there are different ways to relate to my children. And yet, I found myself sitting through a kindergarten round-up wishing my credentials were flashing over my head instead of the wriggly, talking child.

I looked around and saw each child sitting still, each child doing exactly what their parent asked – except mine. I only saw children too young to be in school not sitting and talking. The first question I wondered is, “How am I not getting a call from the Mother’s Day Out program every day?” And my next thought was that parents were watching and labeling me as an inadequate parent; my child varied between doing the fetal position in her chair, falling out of her chair, and whispering non-stop questions and comments – it was maddening to me. In reality was anyone paying close attention to me and my child in the back row? Probably not, but I felt very acutely the embarrassment of a teacher and trained parent with a child who wouldn’t listen, who wouldn’t conform.

Then on Sunday, this passage from John 21:20-22 was read:

“Peter turned and saw that the disciple whom Jesus loved was following them … When Peter saw him, he asked, ‘Lord, what about him?’ Jesus answered, ‘If I want John to remain alive until I return, what is that to you? You must follow me.’ “

And our pastor, Andy McQuitty, asked the question, “What is that to you?” So I asked myself — What is it to you if your child is the one wriggling in their seat asking nonstop questions? What is it to you if you are a teacher and your kid struggles more than others in school? What is it to you what the other kids are doing?

Forget the others. What does your child need?

My child needed to know the plan. My child needed me to set expectations of what was going to happen at kindergarten round-up. My child needed me to explain what was going on again because she wasn’t getting it. My child needed me to focus on her and stop worrying about what all the other children and parents were doing.

So, I wonder, does comparison ever do a number on you? If so, what does that comparison cause you to miss?

This originally appeared on Tapestry’s website April 30, 2013.

We have put our kids through the wringer over the past week, and all things considered, they are doing awesome.We moved out of our old house and moved in with in-laws (Grammy and PaPaw) for a couple days, and then moved into our new home. We moved a lot. We went through a lot of transitions.

Throughout all the transitions, I noticed something interesting. Our youngest kept asking for her “birdies” — an owl mobile that hung over her crib her whole life. At first we were surprised because we didn’t know she was attached to the mobile, but then I realized it wasn’t about the birdies at all.

She was asking for a sense of home. Her birdies were just a means to an end — her way of orienting herself to a particular place.

I was retelling this story to a friend of mine who is also an adoptive mom, and she had been through a similar experience with one of her children. Her daughter was having a difficult time transitioning to her new home, so my friend called the previous home the child had been in and asked to come get some of the child’s things. When my friend’s daughter had her things back, she was able to handle the transition better.

Part of caring for our kids is paying attention to what they’re asking for as well as why they’re asking. In the midst of tough times or significant transitions, our kids may ask for seemingly trivial items or activities. While it might be more convenient for us to put aside those requests and forge ahead, it’s important to remember that our children are really asking for a sense of home. Whenever possible, let’s find ways to give that sense of home, that sense of safety and comfort, in the familiar things.

This originally appeared on the Tapestry website April 16, 2013.

While walking into a doctor’s appointment, the girls and I were all holding hands. They were having fun giggling and laughing, and I was just making sure we navigated the parking lot safely. And out of the blue, my youngest daughter, commented, “We’re sisters.” It made me smiled. She doesn’t notice the difference in appearance between her and her older sister; it’s just her sister.

Then while we were in the waiting room. An adult asked of my oldest daughter, “Are you sisters?” She said, “Yes.” In the span of ten minutes, they both asserted that they are sisters, and they didn’t need any help from me. I hope that as they continue to grow their friendship will grow beyond the spats over which show to watch, who gets to sit by daddy, and who had the pop star microphone first. I hope that they will be each other’s champion.

What hopes and dreams do you have for your children?

This post originally appeared on tapestryministry.org on April 9, 2013.

Yesterday evening our little one was on a rampage – school to ballet to home was just too much. There was hitting, crumpling of beloved coloring pages, screaming and so much more. She was inconsolable.

We tried to push through our evening routines of dinner and bath to just make it to bedtime, but the little one was not playing along.  So we pressed pause and changed directions. We went outside and found some birds nesting on the front porch. Then we came inside, chewed some ice, finished our dinner and, since everyone was calm, we started back on our regular course.  And when it was time to get ready for a bath she said, “I go backyard and play ball.” And my husband and I looked at each other and said, “Yes.”

We said yes. We played ball. We reconnected. We stopped focusing on our frustrations and those ten minutes outside playing ball were the sweetest 10 minutes of my day.

Our reconnection allowed us to reset. Once we reset, bath and bedtime were rather smooth. Then, we all got to rest, and all it cost us was those 10 minutes.