Down the Hill

Last weekend my Little Moon turned 2.5 years old.  Although I've seen pictures of him in the last month, I haven't gotten any sort of update on him since October.  This week we did get video from October, so I am really getting to know the October Little Moon...the 2-year-old Little Moon.

I think that might be why him turning 2.5 struck me as much as it did.  There's such a difference between a newly 2 year old and a child careening downhill to 3.  Just when I started to feel like I "knew" my youngest a bit, I was reminded that he's not that baby anymore. 

And the child that he is now, at 2.5, is a child I will never know either.  And while I made peace with that before I even became his mother, it still hurts a bit to know that 3 will come and go for us and, if the last week is any indication of the type of unpredictability and shiny new slow moving processes we could encounter, 3.5 might as well.

And that is my threshold right there, ladies and gentlemen.  I never imagined we'd celebrate 3 with him, but 3.5, yes, I absolutely expected him to be in a Valentine's day sugar coma with his brothers.

Then again, this is all speculation and me trying to protect my expectations from running wild with hopes of bumps in line and things clicking into place.  Because when I lay in bed at night, my heart flutters with thoughts of a surprise phone call from my agency telling me something is finally going Little Moon's way. 

So we are all careening down the hill now.  Little Moon to age 3 and all the sass and stubbornness that age brings (which will pair perfectly with intense grieving, culture shock, and communication barriers, non?) and us to a reality where things will potentially be harder, longer, and more emotionally complicated than we had expected. 

But I am surprisingly calm about these things.  I'd love to have days to get lost in Seoul, and Little Moon is being loved devotedly in his native country and language, things I hope will help shape him as he gets older.  Instead I choose to check my e-mail incessantly for days until the updated pictures come in of my precious little one posing cheekily for the camera (those can come any time now, thank you very much).  I take sadistic pleasure in cheating the gallon care package rule in any way I can.  And I drop some profanity here and there when discussing process changes with trusted friends who don't mind occasional F bombs.

So, umm...happy half birthday, Little Moon?