Today

Today a mother is celebrating her son's 2nd birthday.

She might be celebrating it by having a special meal, or writing a special letter, or singing a special song. She might be commemorating his 2nd birthday with whispered well wishes or shedding private bittersweet tears. I don't know how she is celebrating it, but I know without a doubt that she is in whatever way she can.

Today I am celebrating my son's 2nd birthday.

I'm celebrating his birthday by having a special meal, writing a special letter, and singing a special song. I'm commemorating his 2nd birthday by whispering heartfelt hopes and well wishes into his ear as he naps, and I woke up this morning and cried bittersweet tears into my pillow.

Today we are celebrating our son's 2nd birthday. The day that he came into the world and changed both our lives forever. We might never meet, but on this day, more than any other day, we are so much more than a "birth mother" and an "adoptive mother."

Today we are both just his mother. Two women who would sacrifice everything for his happiness and who are both sending the same thought to each other..."thank you for loving him."

Her and I.

Heart-exploding love

This morning my heart is filled with love for my husband and my son. Even more than usual.

Yes, my husband broke out into possibly some of the dorkiest dance moves I have ever seen this morning while I was trying to get ready for work, and yes, my son has spent the last 2 days doing some unspeakable things in his diaper that got him sent home from school and keep him up at night.

Yet, I love them both all the more for it.

Just like that

Today my best, best, bestest friend Ali(ce) is going in to have her second daughter. I'm thrilled for her because 1. She'll have another sweet baby girl, and 2. She won't be pregnant anymore. I'm thrilled for the world because she and her husband make super cute kids, smart, well-adjusted, polite kids.

Isn't it funny to think about how people come into our lives. This morning the world woke up with out Baby yet-to-have-the-name-firmly-nailed-down, and (please don't let this jinx her) by the time the world goes to bed she will be here...a person who will be exceptionally important and loved to many people throughout her life will suddenly exist. Just like that. Who knows what she will do with her life, how she will impact the lives of those around her.

I don't have a reference for childbirth, but I know what it felt like when I first met Little Bug. One moment he was a combination of three pictures, some information on paper, and a lot of conjecture, and in the span of a split-second glance through window he was suddenly a living, breathing major part of my every waking thought and action for the rest of my life. That moment changed every fiber of my being. Just like that.

So, to my real-life Alice, happy baby-day. I wish for your a safe, comfortable, "beautiful," first glance at your newest reason for joy. I look forward to loving on her like I love on Fancy M.

I shook Mickey for good luck......

~E

Tis the Season Already?

Confession time: I saw Christmas trees in front of my local grocery store last night and got secretly giddy. This is an egregious sin in my family.

Appa is very vocal about his distaste for skipping holidays. He feels very protective of Thanksgiving and gets annoyed when the Christmas decorations come up before Thanksgiving. This year a small aisle at Target was up before Halloween, which sent him into a mini-tirade on the way home about how dumb that was. I nod my head and agree with him because I do think that Christmas is becoming more and more of a multi-month affair, which to me cheapens the thrill of the season.

However. secretly, I LOVE feeling that thrill as soon as possible. I count down the days until we can "officially" start listening to holiday music (Black Friday at our house) and get out of decorations. I've always been a purest though, and held off until Appa and I could enjoy the start of the holiday season together.

However, this year, I've been cheating. There is holiday music on the radio now, and I listen to it on the way to work. There is nothing like Mariah Carey's "All I Want for Christmas is You" to brighten a rainy November morning. I am already decorating my house in my head and my holiday cards are printed and ready to be stuffed. I'm itching to start celebrating what in many ways is my first "emotionally real" Christmas with my son....and I love it, all of it.

So, I don't tell Appa, but when I go to Target, I spend extra time wandering the Christmas aisles, admiring the decorations and soaking up the anticipation of my favorite time of year. I literally cannot.wait. for it to begin.

Love is Blind ...

A friend of mine recently ended a very nice Little Bug-praise-filled note to me with this line, "he is such an endearing little boy - and one of the most handsome Korean babies I know - but you know, not as handsome as mine ;)."

This had me laughing out loud because it is exactly the sort of thing I would have written to her (her little guy is exceptionally handsome, so she wasn't overly boasting there). I am often telling people (and honestly thinking it) that my kid is the cutest kid in the world. That same day a blog friend wrote a post with some very beautiful shots of her little girl and the comment that seeing those pictures made her "heart sing." I so identify with that feeling, too. Pictures of Little Bug are an obsession of mine, and sometimes I will randomly stop and browse through my web albums of him just to feel that "heart singing" feeling.

I guess it just got me thinking about the saying "love is blind." I think with parenthood, it is the opposite. Why do I truly think Little Bug is the cutest, most perfect baby in the world? Why do my friends feel the same way about their kids? Let's be honest, only one baby can truly hold the official "Most Beautiful Baby in the World" title and that baby is probably eating breakfast with Brangelina right now.

I think it is because love is not blind. Not even close.

When I look at my friend's kids, I see adorable, sweet, fun, engaging children with sweet smiles and cute haircuts and facial expressions, many of whom I care about. But, when I look at Little Bug, I see the way his left cheek just has the slightest hint of a dimple when he gives his genuine "surprised pleased" smile and the way his nose has two little rolls of skin that crinkle when he does his silly smile. I see the way his eyebrows slightly and quickly quirk up when he is anticipating something fun and the way his back arches and tightens when he is about to get really excited. I see the way his face goes slack when he gets tired and hear the change in the tone of his baby babble when he is winding down for the night. When I him sitting, I see months of tummy time and bumbo chairs and pillows and exhaustion and when I see him clap after he takes a few steps, I see pride and exhilaration and excitement in his eyes, not to mention the straightness in his little hands that has taken 2 years to develop. When he sucks his thumb, I see nights upon nights of his warm little body cuddled into my mine in his dimly lit nursery as he strokes his raggie with one finger while sucking his thumb as I rock him.

That's not being blind, that is being all-seeing. Love sees everything, and those little things that only we see are the reasons we love so "blindly." We are not blind to those we love most, but rather, we are blind to all those who we don't.

That's a good thing. This way everyone has a chance to be the most perfect person in the world…if only to just a few other people.

Like my Little Bug, who is, trust me, the most perfect baby on the planet.

Sh*t

Scene: Little Bug's nursery; Little Bug is playing while Mama cleans. He is every bit the almost-2-year-old his proud mama says he is...including his penchant for mimicking....

Me: (cleaning frantically, see post below, and suddenly spilling the humidifier all over the bookcase) SH*T!

Little Bug: "shhiiiiiidddddttttaaa, shhiiiiiidddddttttaaa, shhiiiiiidddddttttaaa......"

Me: (realizing I just became that mom) Oh, Sh*t! No baby!"

Little Bug: (smiling and coming at me for praise; he was mimicking very well, after all) "shhiiiiiidddddttttaaa, shhiiiiiidddddttttaaa, shhiiiiiidddddttttaaa......"

Me: (trying to think of anything he would like to say instead of what he was saying) "Umm, ballooon, drink, food, choo choo"

Little Bug: (looks for said balloon, food, drink, or choo choo and finds none) "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"

~End Scene~

Cleaning up my life

I have always struggled with keeping my spaces clean. I think it is a combination of bad habits and less structured cleaning and chores when I was younger (not to blame my mom in any way--this is my demon).

Anyway, I clean like I diet. Binging and purge, binge and purge. I let my spaces go until it's "go" time for something and then I really power clean the whole house spotless. I'm good at cleaning...when I do it.

So, tomorrow is our home inspection for our adoption. Just like last time, I have avoided cleaning until the last minute (tonight). I'll be up late, stressed out, and grumpy tomorrow. Great way to treat myself, yay me!

I notice a marked difference when I am in a clean space. I am happier, less anxious and stressed, and less "blue." I'm more creative and have more energy. I LOVE when my spaces are clean; it's just rare when that is the case.

Today I happened upon something called the Happiness Project. I can already tell this is a site that I would like to explore more fully, but the article about "de-cluttering" really caught my eye, in particular this quote:

Outer order contributes to inner calm.

So, so true, and something I have personally experienced on my own. I love to spout off to people about "being kind to yourself," but not allowing myself to live in a space that makes me comfortable is most decidedly not being kind to me.

So, with this as my new "homemaker" mantra, I'm going to see how long I can keep my spaces at a level of cleanliness that channels that inner calm (but doesn't totally stress out the working mom in me). This is a great time to start.

Because tonight I will be up until the wee hours of the morning cleaning like a crazy mad woman for that blank slate.