Intentional Mothering

I've written and rewritten this post four times over the last week.  I'm not sure why it is so hard for me to articulate what has been screaming inside my head.  So, I'm taking a stab at just winging it without framework.

I've been an unequal mother to my boys recently, or perhaps ever since Little Bro came home.  With Little Bug in school for most of the week, Little Bro gets full days of Mommy time.  Little Bug, however, comes home from school and has to share the time he does have with me with his little brother.  I mean, obviously brothers spend time together with their mom.  But Little Bug...that became all the time he got with me, shared time.

Our home life is such that evening schedules are critical and must be done together.  Little Bug needs an early bedtime, he can't occupy himself independently while I put his brother down to bed, and truly, he loves his brother so much that he doesn't want to be without him.  We even do Little Bug's home therapies as a group. Simply put, we function in nearly every moment between school and bedtime as a unit of three.

Before Little Bro came home, I would pick Little Bug up from school and take him out to dinner at least once a week.  There we would sit, just the two of us, watching trains go by and "talking" about our day.  I think back on those moments and realize how special they were, and how much I miss that with Little Bug (I still have it with Little Bro).

When Appa comes home for the weekends, we try to soak up every moment with him and consequently, do very little not as a family unit.  And although this is a good thing, it once again shafts Little Bug from quality one-on-one time.  One of us taking him to the grocery store to relieve the double duty is hardly quality time.

I guess I just realized that Little Bug needs and deserves a little time with his mama without having to share her with anyone else.  I'm shocked at how little of this precious time he has actually gotten in the last months.  It makes me feel really crummy, actually.

But I have two kids and only one me, and the truth is having more than one kid really does make it very hard to have quality time alone.  For me, the first step was realizing one of my kids was getting less and determining what I considered to be (and not to be) quality one-on-one time.  The next step is hardest: actually making the time.  Because for our family, it doesn't come organically.  Little Bro doesn't softly plod off to play some educational game in one room while Little Bug and I can snuggle and whisper secrets to each other or play a game on his terms at his speed.  I have to manufacture an activity for Little Bro and devise another activity removed from Little Bro's activity.  Then I have to sell them both to my kids.

How is that working?  Not super, but I am getting there.  I don't love turning "Jake" on the TV for my 2 year old simply so he will leave me alone for a while. But when I have managed to get Little Bug alone and give him my special attention, he had blossomed.  I attribute it in small part to some of his recent developmental successes, and I have definitely noticed an increase in his affection and desire to snuggle since I've made the effort to give him special time.

This matters.  I can see it in his smile and his eyes and his off-handed or deliberate kisses and hugs.  Having me matters to him.  Even just the five minutes a night where we play a puzzle or take silly pictures on my phone make a difference to him and make him happy.

Sometimes I forget that I am the most important person in my kids' lives.  It seems sort of pompous to go around thinking that you mean more to them than anyone else in the world, but really, it's true.  My five minutes are worth hours of other peoples' time to my sons, and I need to start valuing my time the way they do. Intentionally.

Puppy Love

A couple nights ago a package with two wrapped gifts came for our soon-to-be 4 year old. He and his little brother crouched excitedly on the ground as he opened the first gift, an animatronic puppy. Because their mama is super allergic to animals, this puppy (which was aptly named "Brendan" after a friend, the first time Little Bug has ever independently named a toy) is the closest thing either will get to a pet.

I moved to give Little Bug his second gift, but he refused it, over and over again. Not because he only has eyes for Brendan, but because he insisted that the second gift was Little Bro's puppy. No matter how I explained the concept of birthday presents, Little Bug adamantly believed the other box was a puppy to bring joy to his brother.

Luckily, it was smaller animatronic animal, and although slightly confused and bummed that Little Bro didn't have a puppy like Brendan, they were both thrilled with the arrangement.

So although the second gift was intended to bring Little Bug joy, it turned out that the greatest joy for him was being able to share with his little brother.

There is nothing more amazing than watching the childlike love of two little brothers.

The Language of Love

It's no secret that my Little Bug is hard to understand when he speaks.  His apraxia and low tone in his mouth make his speech patterns come out very muddled. He is, usually, unintelligible to strangers and about 30% intelligible to those who casually know him.  Even Appa sometimes has a hard time understanding a new phrase or word.  In fact, the only person in the whole world who truly understands him almost totally is me.  Like anything else you adapt to, I have learned the language of Little Bugese to a point where I have to remind myself that people can't understand that "Obama ah Daooo" means that "Grandma lives in Idaho."  I serve as a translator when people need help understanding him, and it has become second nature for me to automatically repeat things he says when we are with other people so they can understand him better.

Right now, I'm his translator to the world.  And while I wish for him that he didn't need one, I am proud to be his mouth when he needs one.

But something interesting has happened in the last month.  Little Bro has learned to speak Little Bugese.  Although Little Bro's language is superb and even likely advanced for only hearing English for 5 months, he seems to understand anything Little Bug says.  He often repeats his brother, only in a more traditional English articulation, or will just continue on with their conversation without skipping a beat.  To listen to them is like listening to two kids speaking different languages (and it becomes adorably comical when they both start speaking Korean on top of it all), but to them, it's normal.

They're bilingual.  Trilingual?  1.5-lingual?

As these two have truly become brothers, their bond has extended to work around Little Bug's language delay.  I've been worried for a while that it would impact Little Bro's own language or his ability to bond with his brother, but there is not a phrase Little Bug utters with regularity that Little Bro doesn't immediately understand.  It's shocking and amazing and very, very cool.

Because now Little Bug has another person in his corner who can help him access others socially when he needs it.  I imagine in the years to come (because this apraxia is something Little Bug is going to struggle with for a while yet) when my sons are playing with friends in a fort or playground and Little Bug excitedly exclaims something no one understands, his little brother will be there to back his big brother up.

His brother will have his back when his mama can't.  Or, as Little Bug would and has said "wiw bha, ah boo bah?"  Little Bro's translation: "Little Bro, aboobah?"

I fiercely love these two boys.

The Question

We're a conspicuous family, and I've always fielded multiple questions a week from strangers regarding Little Bug and whether he was adopted or if I was just the devoted nanny.  Usually the questions were just varying degrees of "is he adopted?", but I realized today that ever since Little Bro came home, that question rarely comes up.

Now, the new, more subtle was of determining how I came to be wrangling two small Koreans is a different, seemingly innocent question that I literally get 2-3 times a week.

"Are they brothers?"

And although the snarky responses you read in all the adoption literature comes to mind, my go to answer falls in line with my general rule on these sorts of questions...simple and honest.

"Yes."

But the thing is, I know that isn't what they are asking.  I know they aren't using the word brothers the way I am.  I know they are asking about blood and biology and a single birth mother and some history or story that is bound to be interesting.  But, if that was all it was, me choosing to ignore the implications behind the question, that would be fine.  It's the follow-up comments that I have been shocked to discover nearly always follow my simple and honest answer.

In the last week alone, these are some of the comments I have received in response to my answer.

"How wonderful you were able to keep them together."
"I can tell.  Their eyes have the same shape."  [Really?!  Here is a news flash, nice lady handing out chocolate milk samples at Costco,  there are around 50 million other people in the world who have the same "shape" of eyes as my kids.  I am pretty sure they aren't all related.  If they were, Lee Min Ho would be having dinner at my place...like every night.]
"What a sad story with such a happy ending!"
"You can tell."
"I didn't know you could adopt siblings from Asia."
"They're twins, right?"

So here is my dilemma.  I really like my less-is-more approach in general because it works for my personality, but in this case, I am finding it increasingly important to offer up information speaking to the implication of this question.  It's not a huge deal right now with my boys understanding what is being said, but when they get older, I don't want to have to continue the conversation with these strangers in order to set the record straight when their assumptions become clear, nor do I want to lie or hide the fact that my children are not biological brothers, because it doesn't make them any less of brothers, and I want them to know that and own that.

I have started practicing with the answer "they are now," and that seems to get the point across, but also tends to fluster people and make them backpedal, which makes me feel bad.  Then again, it's not offensive, so perhaps I shouldn't care that I've made people who asked an awkward question feel awkward themselves.  But even that answer feels like it has a shelf life, as it might be a little odd to say "they are now" when they've been brothers for 10+ years or something.

It's the most interesting of transitions from going from one child to two, and I find it has made our family even more conspicuous, more interesting to strangers, and more vulnerable to prying questions.

But for the record, as far as I am concerned, the only answer that is really true is "yes."

They are brothers.

Brothers

Little Bug is so ready.

A year and a half ago Appa and I were concerned that we would need to “go on hold” due to Little Bug’s needs.  One year ago we knew Little Bug was closer to being ready and felt comfortable with the 6-8 month window we knew we had between Dong Sang’s referral and go time for Hyung. Of course, when 6-8 months stretched to 12-15 months total, the only bright spot was giving Little Bug a little more time as an only child.

And, at almost exactly a year later, our baby bug is no longer a baby and SO, SO, SO ready to be a big brother.  He’s blossomed so much in the last few months (and I know I always say that, but this kid, he is doing some mind blowing things lately).  His social habits have really evened out, and every morning and evening are filled with chatter about his friends.  Having a little brother will definitely be an adjustment, but I think Little Bug is at a place developmentally where he’ll feel more benefit and fun than jealousy and anger at having Little Bro home.

Except if Little Bro tries to take his raggies…..so Little Bro is on notice there.

But when I watch Little Bug at night, silly and happy and helpful and so aware, my heart just bursts with excited anticipation at the day when he realized that his hopefully-eventually-to-be best friend isn’t going anywhere.  It’s like this giant surprise that I can’t wait to see his reaction to.

Of course, we’re not adopting Little Bro to be a brother to Little Bug.  He has his own defined place in our family that has nothing to do with Little Bug.  We’re excited for him as a person, not for what he can bring to our older son.

But I hope that eventually Little Bro comes to see Little Bug as a really great surprise, too.

Because, mark my words, the moment these two connect will be a moment I will never, ever forget.  I hope this is the beginning of one of the most important relationships in the world for these two little boys.

For a mama who wanted sugar and spice and everything pink and nice, I can’t fathom being more excited about anything than I am about being the mama to little brothers.