3 Hours Was All I Wanted to Waste

This weekend was epic.

After much anticipation, a group of adoptive mama blog friends converged in my hometown to spend some time together. Most of these women I had met in the flesh before, but some I had not, including two from across the country. However, I feel like I already know these ladies so well, so it was easy to fall into a natural rhythm.

I was trying to think of the best way to capture this weekend here. I could give a play by play or perhaps hit some highlights, including getting upgraded to a fancier lake view suite, watching our soon-to-be-holding-their-baby mamas open the small, but much planned out shower gifts, "closing down" a fancy restaurant, staying up chatting to a hour where we couldn't be sure if that was just fog or daylight breaking over the lake (functioning all day on 3 hours of sleep was like modeling the future that awaits my waiting friends), attempting and conquering a dreaded "free day" at our aquarium with 6 little boys, or the fact that my husband, who is generally salty about these sorts of things, told me very genuinely that he was happy I had such a fantastic time.

But overall, I guess I'm just left with this sense of peace and excitement from this weekend. As an adult, it is not easy to make new friends, especially friends that fit both your individual personality and your family life. Being surrounded by these women who could identify with me on so many levels (new mama, adoptive mama, wife, shoe-focused woman, and some with infertility) made me feel so peaceful. To have a group of women I can turn to that "get" me on so many levels is very exciting and refreshing. I look forward to the future and to seeing these women and their families again and again. Many of them are eventually going to continue to grow their families, so we've got even more awesomeness to look forward to.

And ultimately, it's so important for me to take the time to still be "me" sometimes. Not the on duty wife of Appa and the mother of Little Bug, but to be able to focus on enjoying time as a woman. It allows me to return to my boys happy, refreshed, refocused, and more grateful than ever.

That = awesome.

Back in the Saddle Again

When Little Bug was 10 months old, he could not pick up a cheerio and put it in his mouth. The only way he learned this was for Appa and I to sit right in front of him and force his fingers to pinch a cheerio, force his hand to his mouth, force him to put it in his mouth, and repeat. Over and over and over again. For WEEKS.

As you can imagine, Little Bug did not enjoy this, and after 20 or 30 minutes a night of this, neither did Appa or Mama. But wouldn't you know, Little Bug caught on and is now a cheerio eating pro.

When Little Bug was 15 months old, we were directed to start modifying what was a very worrisome preference for his left hand. To stop him from using his left hand to pick up cheerios and force him to move his right, we had to put a sock on the left hand during meals (his right was too weak to yank it off).

As you can imagine, Little Bug did not enjoy this, and after 20 or 30 minutes of forcing an angry child to use his right hand (sit right in front of him and force his fingers to pinch a cherrio, force his hand to his mouth, force him to put it in his mouth, and repeat), neither did Appa and Mama. For WEEKS. But wouldn't you know, Little Bug is now showing a strong tendency toward being right handed.

At 2 year old, Little Bug needs to start learning how to use a fork and spoon. He sorta gets it, and tries, but it's more like a game to him. If left to his own devices, he would hold the flatware in one hand and eat with his other. This is one of the biggest things holding him back from joining his age peers in the Discovery Preschool 2 room. We've had all of our therapists weigh in, his teachers weigh in, and even his pediatrician. All the little tips and tricks have been helping, but only marginally.

So, two nights ago Appa and I realized there was nothing else to do but go OLD SCHOOL.

Drats for all three of us.

Each night one of us sits next to Little Bug and "models" how to eat. The other one stands directly behind Little Bug and forces his hands to use the spoon or fork. We do not let him take a single bit during dinner with his hands.

Yes, it sucks as bad as you would imagine it does. About 8-10 times a meal Little Bug has to be pulled away from the table while we count to 10, just to reset his emotions and give us all a break. Meal times have gone from 20 minutes to 45+ minutes.

Bottom line, no one is loving meal time right now in our house.

But Appa and I keep reminding each other that this worked before and it will work again. Little Bug's therapies have often been "unfun" and "inconvenient" for all three of us, but if it works, which it will--eventually--it will all be worth it.

Oh, and I tried, just to see, if we could still use the sock trick. It took my little bug all of one nanosecond to rip that thing off and fling it across the room, so there's another reminder of how far we have come.

The Bad Habits are Always the Most Fun

In the last few weeks, Little Bug has developed a really weird sleep pattern. Each morning he wakes up like clockwork at about 5:00 am. (He usually slept until 6:30). If left in his crib, he will stand and cry. Unlike our nighttime routine when this happens, he doesn't seem to respond to our tricks to get him down, and quite frankly, even if he did, it would be time to get him up once he finally went back down.

So, for the past several weeks, Little Bug has been sleeping that last hour in bed with us, and 9 times out of 10, sleeping peacefully. Twisting, turning, and sometimes freaking me out by getting right into my face and waiting for me to wake up. The silly smile I get when I do open my eyes is worth it, though. But overall, he isn't really bothering Appa and I when he comes into bed with us in the mornings.

And boy, oh boy, my baby is cuddly. Lots of mothers talk about the smell of their kids, but for me, it's the heat. There is a special sort of heat that Little Bug emits right when he wakes up. His skin is so smooth and soft and it feels like hugging a big warm loaf of bread (not that I make it a practice to do that). Even better, lately when I pick up my warm loaf of bread, his long not-a-baby-anymore limbs are a bit lax and it strikes me--every time--how he is such a little human now, not a baby.

I truly look forward to this hour of the morning.

BUT--we are also walking a dangerous line. We've been sucked into cosleeping for periods of time in the past, and for our family, it is not a viable long-term option. This morning cuddle time feels different in that he has slept most of the night in his bed and is still doing "pretty well" with his nighttime routine. (Damn you, Terrible Twos testing boundaries period!)

So, we continue to do this little morning routine, even though I worry we are setting a dangerous precedent. Coupled with the fact that we are going to be moving Little Bug to a toddler bed in the next few weeks, I think this has the potential for some "reprogramming" down the line.

But for now, I am going to enjoy my little loaf of Korean bread first thing each morning.

A

7 years ago today, I got married. About 10 people knew that.

6.5 year ago, I had my beautiful wedding.

Appa and I have two wedding anniversaries. Today, which we call "A" and our "wedding day," which we privately call B, but consider our main anniversary. After all, that was the day we made our nearest and dearest sweat it out in 100+ temps while shaking their booties to Sir Mix-a-lot's "Baby Got Back," and when we started wearing rings.

But today, today is technically the day I married my favorite man. It's special, whether I wanted it to be or not.

And I didn't want it to be...this anniversary.

If shotgun wedding could apply to more than just pregnancy, that would be our blessed wedding day. We waited just the required 10 days after I moved to the Midwest before getting hitched. Without going into too much detail, we had been emotionally blackmailed into getting married instead of living together for 6 months before our wedding day. (I've forgiven them, of course, but it doesn't change the memories of that day).

So imagine the scene. A young man and woman dressed in whatever they threw on that day are standing in a city building hallway (it had a fake tree, which was apparently to make it fancy), surrounded by parents dressed in nice dress clothes holding video cameras. The man looks really annoyed and the woman looks downright pissed. After being guilted into hold some flowers, she begins the "ceremony" by asking the man who was officiating to say as "little as possible and make it quick." She even begins the ceremony with her hands on her hips.

At 22, I was a still learning to handle my emotions appropriately, as you can see.

After the quick 5 minute ceremony, which I remember nothing of, we all went into the side room to officially sign the marriage certificate. Two minutes later, I went into physical shock.

Everyone but Appa left the room, and together he and I mourned the experience we felt we had just thrown away. It was actually incredibility traumatic for me and had me in sporadic tears for a days.

And I am pretty sure the officiator put $100 on our marriage lasting 6 months.

The evening ended with a "fancy" meal at a steak house Appa's parents used to love when they lived in this particular college town decades before. Wouldn't you know, the place had changed hands and the walls were covered with white sheets of computer paper with hand written scriptures quotes all over them. The steak was okay, though. A perfectly weird ending to a perfectly weird day.

There are no pictures from this day, and the video is apparently not an enjoyable one to watch. I wouldn't know, I never watched it.

So, it's funny that I now have a fondness of this anniversary. In the grand scheme of life, getting married early only benefited us (taxes, insurance, credit, etc.). We told only our immediate family and best friends, so our actual wedding was still very much the celebration we had hoped for.

And now, I get TWO anniversaries!

So Appa, if you ever read this, happy 7A. I'd marry you in a hallway all over again in a heartbeat. I'd even put on something nice and hold your hand this time.

Everything I Need to Know I Learned From a Glee Cover of a Rolling Stones Song

"You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need."

My little sister and I hated each other for probably the first 22+ years of our lives. Hate is perhaps a strong word, but strongly, strongly disliked is accurate. It wasn't until 2005 that my sister and I rediscovered each other as women and friends. Since then, we have continued to cultivate a really nice friendship as equals, and I love her dearly.

So, when my sister announced her pregnancy about a month before we announced our intentions to adopt, I was very happy for her. I watched her pregnancy and shared in her ups and downs. On the day she gave birth to her son, the first grandchild in our family, I spoke to her from the operating room. It was Thanksgiving Day 2007. All day long, I rejoiced from afar at the birth of this little boy, all the while thinking of my own little guy I would someday call my own.

Turns out, my little boy was being born…that very same day, just a few hours before my nephew. On the other side of the world.

The entire 9 months I had been watching my sister's pregnancy, I had also been watching my son's birth mother's. The irony of the whole thing is sometimes too much for me.

It soon became apparent that my little nephew faced a lot of challenges. One of his challenges was hypotonia. For months, I counseled my sister and watched her navigate through the unexpected world of special needs and therapies and the depression that sometimes comes with it. I was able to provide her with an objective counsel, as someone outside the situation, but who still cared deeply. She was, and still is, a great example to me of positivity and advocacy.

During this time, we received Little Bug's normal referral and marveled over the fact that our boys were born on the same day. "Delicious irony," I believe I liked to call it. My sister was worried that her son wouldn't be able to keep up with his cousins, and I swore to her that my son would always be a special buddy with his "birthday twin."

Then came the phone call that changed my life. My 10-month-old son was ready to travel home, but Oh, by the way, he actually had severe hypotonia and was 6 months delayed. They would understand if we wanted to back out…

Obviously shock and devastation were the main emotions, with a healthy dose of anger and fear. However, in the back of my mind, I wasn't surprised at all. Just as I had watched my sister's belly swell for both our babies, I had watched her face these special needs head on for 10 months. I could do this because I was already watching someone else do it. As we like to say now, "Hypotonia runs in our family." Little Bug was meant to come to us, and we were meant to parent him.

I like to think Appa and I rebounded quicker than most would, and we were on a plane within days, flying truly blind as to what we were facing. I had a feeling it would all be okay.

Of course, it was.

You can't always get what you want...
I did not want to deal with infertility. My sister did not want her son to have the additional challenges of special needs. I did not want my son to have the additional challenges of special needs. And like I said before, for a large portion of my life, I didn't want to have a sister 22 months younger and the polar opposite from me.

But, if you try sometimes, you just might find…
Infertility gave me an inner strength and life perspective I am very thankful for and lead us to have the courage to adopt. My sister jumped in head first into the world of therapies and doctors and neurologists and bared her soul to me in her darkest hours. Her perspective on life changed dramatically, but not for the bad. Appa and I took a leap of faith and got on that pretty teal colored plane.

You get what you need.
My sister is enjoying daily life with her son who is walking, loves peas, Elmo, and music, and is a joy to have. Little Bug is walking and talking and also loves peas, Elmo, and music (they are birthday twins, after all), and is the very best thing about my life. The two little boys have only met once, but they connected in a way that was almost errie. They truly are the special friend the other needed in their corner.

And my life is so blessed because I have a sister who I can talk honestly with on the days that "what you needed" is not always "what you wanted." Who understands almost intuitively that the tears are out of love. A sister who understands the magnitude of a 3 inch scoot on the floor or a new word. A sister who is walking this path next to me, not cheering me on from the sidelines.

And those precious, perfect birthday twins who have made my family so happy…my sister and I whisper sometimes that although neither of us would wish these needs on the other's son, we both maybe "needed" to have sons with hypotonia, for each other, for them, for ourselves.

Oh, Glee. You are so wise with your covers.

5 Things I Love About Today

1. Love Little Bug's routine JOY at watching the garage door close, and how he always grabs my face to make sure I am looking, too. Every single day. I love the routines of a toddler.
   
2. Loved that I tracked my I-600a to Texas. It's being processed (hopefully), and I should get that super fun confirmation letter soon. Those letters are always so official looking. Love anything with shiny ink on it.
3. Love all the comments on my "I'm Pregnant" post. The intent was to not fake people out (I promise), but I love the fact that so many of you expressed worry, not relief at my Post Title Pregnancy Scare. It's nice to be surrounded by people who "get" what that would mean for our family. Not going to lie, it's also freaking awesome that a human will not be shoving their heels into my ribs--ever.
4. Loved being productive at work. This whole not drinking pop thing has made a huge different for me. It's almost criminal how bad pop was making me feel, and I never knew any different.
5. Loved this new game Little Bug loves to play. I nuzzle my nose into the side of his neck and belly laugh really hard, which in turn makes him laugh. He will seek me out and nuzzle the side of his neck into my face to get me to play it with him. My baby seeking cuddles--yes, please!

My Throat Hurts

Tonight, for a bunch of random reasons, Appa, Little Bug, and I ended up laying three across on the bed in the guest bedroom. Little Bug would straddle one of us and bounce up and down while we made "giddy up" sounds. The other person would have to kick their legs up and down while singing "Oh Susanna" at the top of his or her lungs. Little Bug would switch back and forth between us, but was firm in his instance that everyone play their part. He was laughing so hard that he would continue to laugh even when we would stop. It was a really random activity, but OH SO MUCH FUN.

My throat is killing me from singing/horse sounds, but it was totally worth it.

My little family is awesome.