Wednesday, April 29, 2009

My Final Guest of the First-Ever Blog-In

My last guest blogger of this week's Blog-In is Gwen Jimmere: Gwen Jimmere is a freelance writer, as well as an award-winning filmmaker and editor who, after years of majoring in Poor Personal Relationship Choices at the world-renowned School of Hard Knocks, decided it was high time to put all those years of hands-on training to good use.

Through her upcoming debut book release,
If It Walks Like a Duck...and Other Truths My Mother Taught Me, and her blog,, she provides realistic girlfriend-to-girlfriend advice on personal accountability and intimate relationships. In her spare time (what is that?) she can be found playing with her three awesome nephews, sneaking a 1/2 pint of Chunky Monkey past her trainer, and of course, praying for world peace.

Why Adoption is Totally Cool with Me

I’m not a mom, but I am the favorite auntie of three glorious boys. Actually, I’m their ONLY auntie…so that makes me the fave by default. At 16, the eldest might as well be called Mr. ‘I’m-too-cool-for-my-pants. Having been born when I was 11, he’s practically like a little brother to me. Because I was so young and therefore a built-in, pro-bono babysitter, we grew up side-by-side as pseudo-siblings.

The other two, both of whom are adopted, are currently ages 4 and 6. The six-year-old, Brice, has been in our family since he was one-day-old. The 4-year-old, Kyle, has been around since he was 3 months. I heart them to pieces and there is absolutely no difference in the love I feel for them verses my biological nephew.

Now, I’m kind of partial to kids when they reach the ever-popular mischievous stage of life. Perhaps, because I was a tomboy myself and was always getting caught with my hand in somebody’s cookie jar. The other day I told Brice I didn’t want him or Kyle to get any older; that they had to stop growing at the age of eight. Brice looked at me with the most innocent look in his eyes, hugged my leg really tight, and said “But Auntie! We have to grow up! I’m so sorry!”


When I was 23 I was diagnosed with a thyroid condition that will make it difficult for me to bare children of my own. I have a friend who has the exact same condition and she was devastated. I mean, she cried for weeks. I felt her pain. But for me, on the other hand, it wasn’t so awful. Perhaps it was easier to deal with after having two adopted children in my family and knowing they are truly no different than biological kids.

When I meet men, I try to let them know oh-so-subtly that I won’t be popping out any kiddies of my own, but that I’m 100% all about adopting. Even as a kid, before I knew I wouldn’t be able to have any, I said I wanted to adopt. I’m pretty up-front about that kind of thing. I think it would be pretty selfish to wait until we’re knee-deep in love to drop that kind of bomb on someone.

Nevertheless, some men want their little personal mini-me’s and that’s fine, but sorry I can’t provide that. Others are totally cool about adoption and welcome the idea.

One of my best friends calls herself a “victim of the foster system” and I’ve seen the good and bad results of that upbringing. I’d like to think maybe it was God’s plan for me to give homes to children who might not otherwise have them.

I’m told by many I will be a fantastic mom. So I’m pretty excited for the future of me and my (very) small village of children….

…but of course, they’ve all got to stop growing up at age eight.

1 comment:

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