A Love Letter to My Littlest Love

Sweet Big Star.

I've been your mama for exactly 1 month now.  As in, close to the minute.  People always say it seems like only yesterday and forever when looking back on a special moment, but it's true.  I still look at you throughout the day with this sense of wonder and surprise that you are actually in my arms, in my home, in my family; yet, I also have a hard time connecting back to the life before you were home.

We're not there yet, you and I.  Your love is worth more than a month's time and I don't expect you to be handing it away, and I'm daily finding new ways to be a better mother to you, for you.  But I have no doubt we'll get there in the end.

You make it easy though, you really do.

I love your running hugs that end with your tiny hand patting me on the back.  I love how you always pull a section of my hair out of my ponytail to caress as you fall asleep.  I love how you always play the "ko, ko, ko" game during our night routine and how you always think you're being such a ham by starting with head instead of nose.  I love the noise you make when you pucker up for a kiss.  I love the smile you flash when you hear the words "Super Why" or the opening notes of your Korean music.  I love your "oooooo" face when you see something especially exciting.  I love how you pat your beloved blanket so tenderly after I pull it up to your chest at night.  I love the way you nestle your head into my shoulder when you need some extra comfort and the way you confidently start climbing on my back whenever you feel the need to go "aboobah."  I love your scream of joy.  I love how you clap for everything good that you do.  I love how despite your tough and dramatic act, you're deep down compliant with tooth brushing and medicine.  I love how you usually stay in your bed, even when you're awake.  I love listening to your babble, the unmistakable Korean accent flavoring your baby stories. I love the way you run, a mix of a toddler toddle and cheetah stride.  I love the impish gleam in your eye right before you pluck a key on the piano during music class.  I love how confident and happy you are to explore your world, but always come back to me.


Has it only been a month since I started loving you for you?

You are already changing who you are since coming here, and there is a part of me that mourns that.  I dread the day your Korean babble switches to one with an American accent.  It makes me sad that we so easily drastically changed huge parts of your life, like your eating and sleeping and pooping habits, not because it wasn't best for your new life, but simply because it removes you from your inherent life routine in Korea.  I watch you listen to your Korean music and shows and wonder if you are already losing your retention, and it breaks my heart to see the language I so desperately want you to have slip away sound by sound.  I show you pictures of your foster family and you tenderly touch each face with your sweet finger, pause for a moment, and then hand the picture back to me and move on with your activity.  I don't know what that means, but it makes me sad in a way, too.

I know this is part of your life story now.  One month ago a new chapter started, one that would be written in a different style and language, but one that is still yours and that I have a part in writing.  Tonight as your splotchy red face screamed at me for daring to change your diaper before bed, it hit me that there are two other women who would desperately love to be crouched in my position now, battling their way through a painful bedtime routine with this tiny Big Star.  I'm lucky and blessed and completely unworthy of the privilege of ushering you through life, and I'll try not to forget that, even for a day.

So, my baby Big Star, 30 days down and forever to go.  Thank you for letting me love you a little more each day and for being you.

Love, Mama

PS: I am sorry about dinner tonight, but you do need to consume something besides apple juice for an actual meal, no matter what your feelings on the subject are. But I give you props for pulling together such an epic meltdown in such a hot second.  Scary impressive.