Pity Party, Table for 1

As much as I joke and as serious as those jokes actually are, I do think it is a serious bummer I will never be pregnant (read: ME have a kid in my belly, not MY KIDS be in my belly). I'm at a spot where it really doesn't bother me, and I actually consider it a "lucky break" in a lot of ways.

However, the selfish mama in me is still bummed about the silly parts of pregnancy, namely everyone (my husband) fawning over me. The constant growing reminder that we are growing our family, that we are already more than just three.

It's not like I would be able to wear one of those "Expecting from Korea" shirts every day for 12-18 months, and even if I could, I would never be caught dead in one (no offense, please, to those who like that sort of thing). The bottom line is that people don't treat me like an expectant mother, even though it's truly how I feel. My kid is growing out in the world, living, breathing, learning…my heart is expanding and my mind is preparing, but most don't know that. Who knows, maybe most people really don't really consider my situation similar to that of an expectant mother, and that is fine.

But it is a bummer when those that do don't validate it.

Appa doesn't read this blog, so this post is purely to calm my own soul. He is a good man, a very devoted and loving husband and father, and he is happy to be in the adoption process and will no doubt go goofy crazy in love over Little Bro.

For me, I love to think about our adoption. I am steeped in a community where it is in my face every day. I get REALLY excited thinking about our son, to the point of distraction sometimes. I'm a woman…I've been thinking about my babies since I was 3 years old. Like any expectant mother, I want to mull over names and nursery patterns and new gifts. Appa, for whatever reason, would prefer not to do any of that until we get really close to a referral (close being relative when we are a month or two away right now), and even then, his excitement is always so tempered. He is a stoic man, and I know that about him, so I tend to allow for that because I know how he will be when the baby comes home, but sometimes it hurts when I need to share my excitement with someone and the one person I want to share it with doesn't want to indulge me…like, seriously, hardly ever.

Unfortunately and somewhat uncharacteristically today Appa mentioned this emotional disconnect between our approaches to this next adoption in what was probably not the world's most perfect timing and it made me cry…at work...at my desk and has left a melancholy twinge in my heart since then.

Of course he certainly didn't intent for it to make me sad, but the bottom line is that sometimes in a marriage it's hard to be with someone with such a different temperament than your own. Add in something you feel passionate about and it is a recipe for some heartache. I know Appa is excited for Little Bro, but I guess sometimes I selfishly wish it was the same sort of excited that I am.

So, I have a few more hours to pout here at work before I think I need to get over this. It's nothing new, after all. I'm sure my husband will do something nice tonight like pour me a glass of wine or offer to take Battle Silverware for the night or give me kisses on my nose and a neck rub. He's that kind of guy. I'll remember that just as he can't expect me to change my emotional grids to match his, I can't expect him to conform to mine.

We will both be thrilled when we first see Little Bro's face, of that I am sure. He might not already have a name picked out, and we might not exactly know where we are going to relocate our guest bedroom or what we are going to put in his care package, but it will be love for both of us, and that's when the excitement will truly matter.

I still wish I had some chocolate right now, though.

There Is No Such Thing As Defeat

Mealtimes have been...rough....around our house lately. For the last two weeks we spend our meals physically forcing Little Big to use his silverware, even with finger foods. I'm taking extended lunch breaks and going over to work with him during lunch at school. We are trying very hard to not let things slip, to keep a solid, united message for Little Bug.

Fork + spoon = food. Fingers = no food.

Of course, then you have nights like tonight.

Appa was off having a fancy sushi dinner, and Little Bug was hell bent on not being bested for dinner. No problem...I sighed a big sigh and then situated myself for battle. I've got this dance down to a step.

Except tonight, he owned me.

Even though it was all easy-to-scoop food, he refused to use his silverware. I know some people are of the mindset that you just have your child skip a meal to prove your point, but my 2-year-old kid has 8 therapy sessions a week and expends more energy than most kids simply by performing basic tasks like walking or holding a sippy cup; skipping a meal like dinner is just not an option for him right now. So, after 30 minutes with little more than a couple grains of rice in his belly and a whole lot of ornery in his face, I gave up.

I went into the kitchen and let him think he was pulling a fast one over on me by eating with his hands as fast as he could. (Or rather, I tried to preserve what was left of my pride.) However, he was eating. Indeed, the kid even asked for seconds. As I stood there in the kitchen, I felt defeated.

Then Little Bug caught my attention with a this new word he loves to happily chant "mapabadada." I looked over just in time to see him pick up that blasted fork, manage to scoop a small bite, and expertly place it in his mouth. Then he twisted his neck around to make eye contact with me and clapped.

Of course, he went back to eating with his hands, but it reminded me that life isn't always a battle, even though it feels like it so often at our home. We're not fighting against Little Bug and he isn't fighting against us. All three of us are simply helping each other grow and learn to be the best we can be.

And some nights, the only way to do that is with a full stomach and getting your hands dirty.

Carrier Monkey (Otherwise titled "Vomiting With Love, Part II")

To steal a phrase from a friend of mine, my son is apparently a "carrier monkey."

When we put Little Bug in daycare, we braced ourselves for the inevitable constant illnesses that come with it. Surprisingly, he has only been sick once since he started (and once before that). In fact, in the 1.5+ years we have had him, he has only been really sick those two times. Lucky, I know.

However, Appa and I cannot say the same.

We would go years without getting the flu. Since Little Bug went to daycare, we have both been laid out praying to the porcelain god. Last night was round two for me.

I'll spare the details, with is probably a shocker, but let's just say the Pesto Cavatappi from Corner Bakery is possible on my "never to eat again" list, right there with powdered doughnuts washed down with vodka and orange juice and Tequila Sunrises. Why oh why couldn't I have had something less yummy for lunch yesterday?

After I was able to hold down some saltines again and reassured some people via e-mail that NO, I AM NOT PREGNANT, I realized there is a silver lining to this: my carrier monkey son must just have a kick-a@@ immune system.

So while he can apparently go roll around on the floor of a doctor's office and lick the handle of a Metra train, Appa and I need to step up our vitamins and flu shots. Otherwise our little carrier monkey is going to continue to share these germs with us.

I mean, we have been trying to teach him to share.

What a Baby

The reason they tell parents not be belabor goodbyes is not because the kids can't handle it; it's because the parents can't.

I don't take Little Bug to school (daycare) each morning, Appa does it. I just get to be the hero every afternoon when I come to get him (actually, he is more excited to play with me there, not to leave really). However, lately I am going over on my lunch break to do more self feeding work with him (my poor baby; I could just see the injustice in his eyes as all the other kids happily ate with their fingers).

Anyway, after lunch is was time for a nap. I KNEW I should just up and leave. To give a lot of hugs and kisses and coo my goodbyes into his hair would "make it harder for him." Yet, I had to drag myself out of that classroom and away from him. As I shut the door, I heard him whine my name and thought "oh, this must be so hard for him."

Yet, when I checked the monitor about 45 seconds later, he was happily showing his friends his beloved raggie. Only one of us had a hard time with my leaving....and it wasn't the 2-year-old.

Mamas are such babies.

I Will Miss This

A bloggy friend of mine recently wrote a post about taking the time to enjoy the period of life you are in right now because a time will come when you will miss it. It really stuck with me.

So, I will someday miss the nights when all Little Bug wants to do is sit on my lap and have me sing his three favorite songs to him...over and over and over. When he grabs my face to make sure I am watching him, just because he likes me to.

I will miss those bad nights where Little Bug constantly wakes up crying and will only be consoled if I am standing over his crib. I will miss how he will occasionally look up from his butt up hybrid fetal position to make sure I am still there. I will miss how he needs my presence when he is feeling most vulnerable.

I will his different cries and how I have learned what they mean. Even the loud, angry cry. One day he won't make that anymore and that unique sound that is so totally his will be relegated to my memory only.

I will miss the nights when he can't fall asleep, and I have to sit by his bed. Soon my time will be divided and it won't be so easy to devote hours in the evening to his bedside alone.

So, even though my eyes are falling out from fatigue, and I even though I rolled over in bed last night and let Little Bug cry because, as I vehemently told our very sick Appa, "I just CANNOT do it right now," I really will miss all of it someday.

And remembering that makes it all a little bit easier today.

Lucky

I'm not superstitious, but I do have some quirks that probably fall in that category.

Like my "lucky" coins. I don't actually think they are lucky, but I do like to carry them everywhere I go. In fact, I like them to be in my change purse so I can see them on a regular basis. One is a Jamaican coin from my honeymoon. It's never left my purse in 6.5 years. The second is a Korean coin minted in the year Little Bug was born. It's never left my purse in the 16 months I've had it.

Unfortunately, I've almost spent them one too many times, so now they both are covered in tape to remind me to take a closer look when digging for that last quarter.

But every day I see them and they make me happy. That's probably not luck, but it can't hurt.

Everything YOU Needed to Know in Life You Could Have Learned on the Nature Channel

Dear occupational therapist who I met with today,

You are the second OT my son has worked with. I have a couple of things I need to say to you. But let's start by saying that if you don't have the Nature Channel, you really should get it. I think you could learn a lot from even just DVRing a few shows.

Take for example, the very interesting Yellowstone bears vs. wolves program Appa and I watched a few days ago.

First, if you had watched it, you would have seen the part of the show where the baby bear learns to hunt. It's not easy for the baby bears to really "get it," but after time, they finally do. That is mainly because their mama doesn't give up on them. She knows they will learn to do it, and until they do, she is going to keep them safe and believe.

Second, you might have seen the part about how wolves always travel in packs. Everyone around the baby wolves protect them and rally around them. Those little baby wolves don't just have their mamas looking out for them, they have all the other wolves who love them ready to go to battle for them. That pack mentality is a good thing for the baby wolves, not a bad, "hysterical," or "overreacting" sort of thing.

Third, you would have learned "instinct" is not always enough. Unless time and effort and sacrifice is put into training those little baby animals, they will not thrive. It's not just something that will "some day come." A mama bear doesn't look at her cub who can't defend itself and think "well, I'm not going to BOTHER doing anything about that because developmentally that's just where he is right now...I should just DEAL with that."

And finally, if you had watched this very interesting program, you would have seen the part where a wolf was hanging around with the potential to hurt a little bear cub, and you would have seen the Mama Bear rip that wolf's face off.

It was not pretty; I'm just saying.

It was so nice chatting with you today. Please let me know if you are interested in the name of my cable provider. I highly recommend you brush up on your nature vs. nurture.