As It Should Be

In the back of my mind, in the tiny spot I try to keep shut up, I wondered how I would react when the number we had with our old agency came up; what I would feel when I saw the picture of the child that would have been ours had we kept to our original plan and not accepted Little Bro's referral. I'm not sure what exactly I was worried about feeling, but I was worried about my reaction. I feel guilty for going there, but I think it is probably a pretty natural curiosity.

Luckily, I'll never really know because more than one number came up yesterday, making it impossible to know for sure which child would have been matched to our family had our specific file still been in line.

But as for the pictures that I did see....I felt a whole lot of nadda. Sure, I was THRILLED for those families and totally enamored with their beautiful children, but that was all it was....reactions to their joy and THEIR sons. Perhaps I was secretly worried that I would see one of the pictures and think "Oh my God, that was supposed to be my son. I've made a huge mistake."

But of course, none of that came because I didn't make a huge mistake and those kids were not meant to be my son. The head trip your brain can take you on is nothing compared to the truth your heart can provide you. The feelings I had when I first saw Little Bro's picture were something rare and special and I knew it was right then, and I know it is right now.

Especially this morning when, out of the blue, a new picture showed up in my inbox. And the reaction that I was lacking when looking at the children of the other families....

Oh, it was there in SPADES when I saw my son's face again.

Worth It

I'm SO tired this morning. I crawled into bed at midnight only to find my TWO boys tossing fitfully. I'm not sure what happened last night, but all three of us are worse for the wear this morning.

I'm double fisting DDP just to keep my eyes open.

But closing a restaurant down (as usual) with some of my favorite gals on our girls night out was worth every single 29-flavor drop I need injected into my veins this morning.

It's awesome to be a mama, but sometimes it is awesome to be just "me" again for a few hours...especially the sangria drinking version of me.

11:11

I'm now a believer. A true disciple of the clearly solid childhood myth.

I wrote a while back about my quirky habit of always wishing on an 11:11 when I see one on a clock. Today I looked at my computer clock just in time to see 11:11 and made a wish.

Then, at that very moment....

Ding.

That would be the ding of my e-mail...

Growing a Pair

Sometimes I err so far on the side of caution to not inconvenience someone that I end up driving myself wild. One little e-mail could clear it all up, but NOOOOOOO, I would prefer to suffer in anxious anticipation/worry for a full week instead of putting myself out there just a teeny, tiny bit. This in turn makes poor Appa have to suffer through my "suffering." Trust me, I am not a pretty sufferer.

So today, after two DDPs and one too many e-mail dings from a social networking site that was most definitely not my SW sending me an update on Little Bro, I grew a pair and sent off a polite, one line e-mail just asking if she had anything for me.

I feel a bit better now. Either way she answers, I'll soon be able to stand my e-mail dinging without going into nervous twitches.

And that is a good thing, because I am not a pretty e-mail twitcher, either.

The Sideways

Last night, after a really weird afternoon that culminated in a 2-hour high fever, Little Bug went down without a fight and Appa and I settled in to watch a ridiculously long series finale and get some freaking questions answered.

2 hours went by....still waiting for answers. 2 hours 10 minutes went by....just . starting . to . get . . to . the . point...

Pitter patter, pitter patter.
Door open.
"What's up, Mama and Dada?"

Oh, HELL no.

Appa paused the show, and I corralled Little Bug back into his room, letting him know that it was, for sure, not play time. Or, at least, I thought I made myself clear, but apparently not.

What happened from that point on is a case of a parenting alternate "sideways reality." The textbook situation that somehow spirals out of control, with your normal routine slipping away from you and replaced with a world where 2 year olds are wide awake and ready to be loving life at Midnight.

So, Appa finally knocked on the door and uttered the most ridiculous proposal...one that made total sense in this sideways reality. Let's bring our kid down to join the fun, finish the last 20 minutes of our show, and then end this party with a family cosleep.

Maybe we could even fly a crashed plane off a beach....you know, just for kicks.

So, as I watched the final seconds of my questions not being answered (but still satisfied anyway), I looked over and watched my son laughing his head off as he sat between Appa and I, bright-eyed and pleased as can be to be hanging with us at 1 am. I wasn't exactly sure how we got to this point and were okay with it, and I half expected a smoke monster to come slithering by, but I got this sense that this sideway reality wasn't so bad. It's nice to enjoy special, out of the ordinary moments with those you love. Especially those moments that are born from breaking sacred parenting rules simply for the sake of enjoying the smiles of your family.

But tonight, it's back to the island of normal bedtimes and boundaries.

A Good Day

I have decided the the measure of a good day is just how much dirt needs to be washed off at the end of the night...for the whole family.

If You're Happy and You Know It...

Little Bug,

Mama has had a bad week. You know this. I know this. Appa knows this. Pretty much any poor soul who has come in contact with Mama knows this. Yesterday I was determined to make myself be happy when I got home from work.

Thanks for doing for me.

That dance party you started, complete with your two new moves I like to call the "old man shuffle" and the "pop and lock," as well as your Bob Marley-inspired move we call the "peeing dog"...that was one rocking party. Those belly laughs of mine and my springing step as I did my "lame mama dance" were completely genuine. The fact that we did the whole thing in the rain made it even better.

You had me literally squealing for joy when I sang "Itsy Bitsy Spider" to you and, for the first time ever, you actually did all the hand movements with me. That was one proud (and shocked) mama you heard shouting praises in your face. Capping it off with a couple silly smiles and silly eyes...inspired.

You even made my heart smile a bit at 1 am this morning when you came into my bed, snuggled in, and then instead of whining, just gently grabbed my face to wake me up and tell me you needed a drink. The fact that you signed "thank you" (while saying "welcome" because we've confused you linguistically) and then went to sleep peacefully was the icing on my cake.

Today, instead of waking up with a pit in my stomach and an ache in my heart, I woke up happy to be your mama and thrilled to have the whole weekend to spend singing and dancing with you.

Thanks for making it easy, buggy.