Really. No. Idea.
For years, it was my mantra whenever we went out in public. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Sometimes, it is the expression that still saves me. I was young and naive when I started this journey as an adoptive mum. I didn’t yet know how to ignore the ignorant and didn’t want to offend the well-meaning.
There were so many things that they didn’t know, but the comments always came. From family or from strangers in the grocery store.
Don’t you think that child is too old for a bottle?
Shouldn’t he be potty-trained by now?
Maybe he’s just tired.
Can you please quiet him down?
What I wanted to say was, "No. No, I don't think he is too old for a bottle. And I don't care if I have to change nappies a little while longer. And, yes, I do think he is tired because you don't have any idea how bad the nightmares get. And no I can't quiet him down. Or maybe I can, but I won't, because his voice deserves to be heard, even when it is an angry voice."
What I did instead was try to smile as politely as I could as their comments made me question my own judgment.
Eventually, the realisation that God and a whole team of social workers chose me instead of them for this job - the job of his forever mum - gave me the confidence to dismiss them.
"I'll keep that in mind."
Do you know what else I will keep in mind?
By the time my son was a year old, he had three different mothers.
By the time he was two, he had gone from a homeless shelter in one state to an apartment in another, and several houses and families in between.