Row, Row, Row Your Boat

...is forever a special song for me.

When we took custody of Little Bug, he was on this "different" sleep schedule where he would take a third nap from 7-8 pm. So, a few hours after taking custody of him, we found ourselves in the hotel room, trying to figure out how to put him to sleep. Up until then, he had been okay. Once he figured out he was supposed to nap with us, all hell broke loose, and Appa and I stared wide-eyed at each other.

I had prepared for grief and fear from our boy, but in that first moment when it was "GO TIME," I was sort of at a loss. So, I started singing the only song I could think of...."Row, Row, Row Your Boat." I continued to sing it in one long breath for approximately 20 very long minutes until Little Bug fell asleep.

This is funny for a few reasons. 1. I am the oldest of 5 kids. I know tons of songs and lullabies. 2. Row, Row, Row Your Boat has never been a favorite of mine or particularly used in my home growing up.

A quick search on the ever all-knowing w*k*pedia give this insightful analysis of the song.

The lyrics have often been used as a metaphor for life's difficult choices, and many see the boat as referring to one's self or a group with which one identifies. Rowing is a skillful, if tedious, practice that takes perfection but also directs the vessel. When sung as a group, the act of rowing becomes a unifier, as oars must be in sync in a rowboat. The idea that man travels along a certain stream suggests boundaries in the path of choices and in free will. The third line recommends that challenges should be greeted in stride while open to joy with a smile. The final line, "life is but a dream", is perhaps the most meaningful. With a religious point of view, life and the physical plane may be regarded as having equivalent value as that of a dream, such that troubles are seen in the context of a lesser reality once one has awakened. Conversely, the line can just as equally convey nihilist sentiments on the meaninglessness of man's actions.

Ohhh, sooooo meaningful. Clearly I chose this song subconsciously.......

No matter the reason, I rarely sing this song to Little Bug. Like I said, it's just not a song that pops into my head. However, tonight it popped out while I was rocking Little Bug to sleep. Although Little Bug most assuredly will never remember that first song, I will never forget it.

It's like my motherhood theme song.

I'm Pregnant.

You know, the paper kind.

Lately I have been getting that weird "paper pregnant" feeling. (By the way, I hate that term and think it is really lame, but it is appropriate for the context.) We've finished all our paperwork and are now just

w.
a.
i.
t.
i.
n.
g.

Granted, this wait is much different than the wait with Little Bug. With him it was the first and last thing I thought of each day. I would stare at the phone at work. I would daydream excessively. I would cry and wail and get angry and frustrated.

This time, it's been more laid back. I think part of it is because with Little Bug there was always this thought in the back of my head that is was all pretend, that it would never really happen. I'm now fairly confident that Little Bro will indeed "happen." In fact, filling out the paperwork was much more enjoyable this time because I could feel a more tangible connection to Little Bro.

But the daily obsession hasn't been there. In fact, until recently, we were intentionally dragging our feet. We were not ready...and now we are.

And suddenly, I am feeling like Little Bro is imminent and like he is already a part of our family. With that feeling comes the urge to have people validate his existence in our family and my heart. Pregnant women have their large round tummies; I've got a foster care license in my wallet. It's pretty flat.

A few days ago I was sitting in Little Bug's pediatrician's office waiting for the last bit of adoption paperwork to be completed. As I sat there, I thought forward to the time when I will be sitting in that very same chair with Little Bro. I had the overwhelming urge to blurt out to someone that I was his mother right now, too. That I was waiting for my son who is somewhere in the world right this second, living, breathing, laughing, or rather, for the sake of his foster mother, sleeping peacefully. (In fact, I did that very thing hours before we got Little Bug's referral paperwork....the nice man at the counter of the Italian restaurant we were at was very gracious.)

So, safe to say, since we went paper ready, Little Bro has been on my mind.

Ever since we decided to adopt another boy, and not a girl, I've been dreaming about getting my boys matching shirts, some form of Big Brother/Little Brother. I've been looking for weeks now for a "Little Bro" shirt (not "Lil Bro"). My dream was to have Little Bug wear his Big Brother shirt in a picture we would send over to Korea with the smaller shirt for Little Bro. Today, I found not exactly what I was looking for, but something equally as cool.

So I bought them.

I could have waited another month to order, but this way I get super cheap shipping and can have it ready for a care package to go immediately.

And it made me feel AMAZING to order two little shirts for my two little boys.

Because in case you haven't heard, I'm expecting....

Letting Go....

...can mean a lot of things.

It can be literal, as in "Today, for the first time ever, Little Bug let go of my hand not once, but twice, to walk on his own for an extended period of time outside. As much as I push him to walk alone, the first time he takes the initiative to drop my fingers, my inclination is to grab him and hold on tight."

Stop growing up, Little Bug. No, I don't mean that. Yes, I do. No, I don't. Sigh.

It can also mean shrugging off those nasty emotions that creep up on you. Like tonight, as I was patting my slumbering child, I got (for the first time ever) irrationally angry at his birth mother for his hypotonia and current struggles (read: and my struggles, which is just shameful of me to think). Little Bug's hypotonia is most likely the result of an undiagnosed genetic disorder, but it could also have been exacerbated significantly by certain choices his birth mother made.

The anger took me by surprise because I've never even considered his birth mother with regards to his special needs in all the time he has been home. In fact, I am sure she has no idea that he even has any special needs. To blame it on her (with no proof or real justification) was a weird feeling...one that I wanted to let go right away.

Because no matter what, it is obvious she loves Little Bug. Remember, 96% of women in her position chose not to spend 9 months pregnant to give their children life. She did the very best she could, and for that I am nothing but grateful.

Dear Me,

It's been 4 days since you last had a DDP. The last time that happened, you were in Korea (and consuming massive amount of diet cola in a delightfully thin shaped can, except for that one unfortunate time you tried to "switch it up" with that Ion drink...that was a bad idea.) Who knows the last time you went 4 days without any sort of pop beverage. It's easily been 3.5 years.

You know all the trouble you have been having concentrating at work lately. The foggy, jittery feeling you get? You know those pangs you get in your tummy? Well, do you think it is a coincidence that you haven't experienced that in 4 days, that your productivity and calm was awesome today?

Tomorrow morning, when you are frustrated and tired by what is shaping up to be a bad night of sleep for the whole family and all you want to do is curl up at your desk with a greasy egg sandwich from 7*11 and a nice, cold bottle of 29 flavor fizzy goodness, remember how it was making you feel for the last few years and remember how a little, good-for-you black tea can do so much better.

Step away from the pretty bottle.

Love,
Me

[Wail] Appa [Wail] Omma

It's equal parts the best and worst thing I have ever heard when my not-wanting-to-sleep little boy is screaming "Appppppppa" "Ommmmmmmma" over and over in his crib.

It may sound horrible, and I am not sure I could explain it any better than that, but there it is.

New Year's Resolutions.

Every year I make New Years resolutions. Honestly, I cannot think of a single big, life changing one that I actually stuck with. That's not to say I haven't had resolutions stick, rather, those that stuck were mainly made as a joint resolutions with Appa throughout the years whenever we felt....resolved.

However, I think it is important anyway to consider your personal goals at the beginning of each year. As I have gotten "older," I have learned that goals are only effective if they are the delicate balance between specific enough to achieve and broad enough to adapt and include ways in which to achieve said goals.

So, after much thought and soul searching, these are my 2010 resolutions.

1. Drink less pop. My consumption of a certain 29 flavor diet pop is an absolute physical and mental addiction and is unhealthy for my mind and body, as well as an unneeded financial drain. I would love to end 2010 completely pop free, but I'm trying to be realistic, so my goal is to have pop less than a single bottle a couple times a week. My plan to achieve this is to switch, effective Jan. 1, to tea or coffee only to combat my caffeine addictions. After I lose the urge to have pop, I will start to allow myself the occasional drink if I feel strongly. I am also going to start carrying tea bags in my purse and make more of an effort to carry my metal water bottle with me for easy access to liquid on the go.
2. Keep a cleaner house. My housekeeping skills leave MUCH to be desired and doesn't always give my family the environment that I want, not to mention how much better I feel emotionally and mentally when my house is clean. My resolution is to pick up the house at least 5 nights a week, if not more. This includes sweeping and doing the dishes. I am hoping that these habits will stick quickly and branch out to cleaning every night and adding other daily tasks, such as laundry and wiping down the bathrooms.
3. Speak softer. For whatever reason, I am a loud talker. I hope to be more mindful of this bad habit this year and lower my normal volume by a bit. I haven't figured out a good way to do this, other than to perhaps ask Appa to remind me if my voice gets too loud. However, he already does something similar for my nail biting, and it's really annoying, so perhaps we don't need two of these "cues."
4. Keep my priorities in line. Although my family is my top priority, sometimes my actions probably aren't best serving that. Things like reading and computer time need to be given a back seat to my family time. I am going to try to better achieve this by limiting my computer time to after Little Bug goes to bed on most nights, and limiting my computer time when with Appa to an hour or so.
5. Be healthier. Doesn't everyone want to lose weight? I am the heaviest I have ever been in my whole life, and it is mainly because motherhood has allowed me the perfect excuse to not find time to work out or eat healthier. As my doctor told me yesterday, "the stakes have never been higher." If there was ever a time for me to be healthy, it should be now, for Little Bug and Little Bro. However, this is so daunting, that I will need to take it slowly and make sure habits stick. First up, working out. Some form of exercise each day, in some capacity. We have exercise equipment in our home, so I truly have no excuse. If I start going to bed a bit earlier, I could start getting up in the morning a little earlier and working out for a bit in the morning. Ahh, lofty goals. My ultimate goal is to get back into a mindset where I feel off on the days I don't work out. I used to be there, once upon a non-Little Bug time. As for eating healthier, this will be harder. I have little time (and less motivation) to cook meals, healthy or otherwise, on work days. I am hoping to get back to a menu system that worked well for our family a long time ago to make healthy meals and freeze portions for easy access on the week days. Little Bug deserves more variety than he currently gets. Additionally, I just need to exercise some self control and choose better eating choices for myself. No one will do it for me.
6. Parent a 2-year-old, not just a "special needs child." The 2-year-old child that is currently rolling around on the floor throwing a fit because his dad put him down for a nanosecond is a reminder that my little boy is a bonafide Terrible Two [break here for me to stop said child from pulling the rotating big screen TV from the wall and hanging on it--I am dead serious]. There are a lot of people in our lives, both well meaning and not so much, who have strong feelings about how to deal with limitations like our son has, and it is sometimes easy to get sucked into that (certainly easier than the therapies every night). Ultimately, I know my son, and he CAN do anything and everything with the right amount of practice, strength, motivation, and time. Yes, he has special needs, but he also has the spunk and personality and affection of a 2 year old, and I think he will be better served if Appa and I continue to find that sweet spot between "2 year old" and "special needs child" that makes up our darling Little Bug.
7. Trust myself. 2010 has some exciting changes in store for my family, and honestly, I am terrified that I won't be able to handle it and sometimes listen too much to those close around us who are less than supportive of our choice to adopt again so quickly. I need to trust myself to know that Appa and I will make the right choices for our family so long as we listen to our hearts and minds.

Ital, Fair Thee Well, Old Friend.

I doubt it has escaped anyone's notice that one of my indulgences in my non-editor downtime is the gratuitous overuse of italics (the other is, sadly, the refusal to reread and proof my own posts and e-mails). I just love a good italicized word or phrase.

Sadly, after spending a few hours turning my 2009 posts into my actual hardcopy journal (courtesy of Blurb.com), I realized that ital doesn't transfer over from the conversion. There is absolutely no way I can go back through 120+ pages and add the ital back in.

Devastation.

So, goodbye old friend. The new year brings with it a new formatting approach.