The Truth at the Bottom of the Castle
I think every school aged girl who gets adopted feels at least a little bit like a princess. That was certainly true for my daughters. Sarah, who... Read More →
Category
My Valentine
Twenty-six years ago I was engaged to one of the most beautiful girls I had ever known. It was no secret she was out of my league. In fact, the... Read More →
Rainbows and Unicorns Should Erase Adoption Scars
There really is a beautiful and almost magical side to our adoption stories. We wanted our daughters badly. Our sons wanted little sisters, too.... Read More →
You Can Lead a Horse to Water
I was talking with a wise religious leader once when I used that worn out cliché, talking about someone who refused to conform. “No,” he... Read More →
Whoosh! There Went my New Year’s Resolution.
The road to hell, good intentions… blah blah blah. I had a lot of things I needed maintain, even get ahead on over the next several months... Read More →
Sometimes Things Aren’t as They Seem
Denney was less than a year old when he went to the orphanage in Russia. He didn’t know much about his history before joining our family; but... Read More →
Some Things Don’t Make Sense
It’s like how black and wet make purple. You don’t have to know why it happens. It’s a fact. It doesn’t matter if you can explain it, or if... Read More →
The Term “Real Mother” Confuses Us
Mothers’ Day has always been a tough one at our house. My wife, Amy, came from a home where she was abused by her father and her mother did... Read More →
Mental Illness Is Like Other Illness
Amy and I have three biological children and six adopted ones in our family. Parenting that many children should clue you in on the fact that... Read More →
A Rose By Any Other Name…
Sarah or Yeakaterina? (Make sure you roll the “r” when you say that.) I need to back up. Recently, a mom-blogger provided some feedback for my... Read More →
Down Syndrome doesn’t Mean Something’s Wrong
Down syndrome doesn’t mean something’s wrong. Jack is now eighteen. We adopted him when he was just one-month old. As with a... Read More →
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© 2018 John M. Simmons