I resigned myself a while ago that Little Bug would be in diapers for a while. An early or even "normal" potty training seemed ridiculous to us. So, although he sits on the potty after each diaper change at school, I've never so much as looked twice at a potty for our home.
Scene: Little Bug and I enjoying an ice cream on our back porch. Little Bug suddenly starts squatting and grunting. Very gentleman-like.
Mama (absently, still mentally celebrating the fact he handed me his ice cream instead of tossing it on the ground): "Little Bug, are you pooping? Do you need to go to the potty?"
Note, the fact that I used the word potty was not because I expected him to actually need to use the potty (he was clearly already doing his business); it was just some absent thing I think I have always said to him.
Little Bug: "PbA?"
Little Bug straightened up, brushed away the ice cream and went to the door expectantly. Mama opens the door and Little Bug goes directly to the baby gate and waits to be let upstairs. He goes directly to the bathroom and stands expectantly, pointing at the toilet.
Little Bug: "PbA?"
Mama: "Uhhh, ok?"
Mama takes off the poopy diaper and sits Little Bug's tiny tushy on the way too big toilet seat. Both Little Bug and Mama are afraid he is going to drop through.
Little Bug (clapping once he is removed from the toilet): "All done."
End scene.
So today I am reviewing toddler potties and will have one in our bathroom by the end of the week. Do I think this means Little Bug is anywhere near ready to even begin potty training? Nope. The running water I heard this morning while getting ready for work that was actually my son loudly peeing in his diaper, totally oblivious, tells me as much.
But I'm going to have the potty and rewards on hand, just in case.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Monday, June 7, 2010
A Big-Boy Bed Training Mama's Prayer
Dear God of Normal Sleep Patterns,
I'm afraid to name aloud the big-boy miracle that has occurred the last two consecutive nights, but you and I both know what it is, and if you could keep that up, I will be eternally grateful.
Please don't tell me the only reason it is happening is because my son's bedtime has been accidentally pushed back an hour on those nights. I cannot handle a 2 year old with a 9 pm bedtime.
Amen.
I'm afraid to name aloud the big-boy miracle that has occurred the last two consecutive nights, but you and I both know what it is, and if you could keep that up, I will be eternally grateful.
Please don't tell me the only reason it is happening is because my son's bedtime has been accidentally pushed back an hour on those nights. I cannot handle a 2 year old with a 9 pm bedtime.
Amen.
Friday, June 4, 2010
Mama = Feet in Ribs (at some point)
I'm planning a baby shower for my sister-in-law tomorrow. I'm super thrilled for her, not just because I get another cute niece to buy girl clothing for, but because I know how exciting it is to be able to hear the crying baby at the end of what for many of us is a very long tunnel and I am just so truly happy for them.As I was trying to figure out baby games for this shindig (and no, in case you are wondering, the diaper cake, guess her belly length in toilet paper squares, and baby food tasting games are all banned at this shower, just like the chicken dance and country music was banned at my wedding--I have standards), I realized my perspective of babies and new motherhood has skewed. I kept having to reign myself in. No, she probably doesn't want bulgogi at her baby shower...that wouldn't make sense. No, as handy as they are, she does not need a "snack trap" the moment the baby is in her arms. She doesn't need teething tablets either. Put the Gerber Puffs DOWN.
In my mind, when thinking about new motherhood, I go first to my experiences. So many of my friends have the same experience that it is always surprising to me when someone I know actually has a baby come to their family at zero hours old and covered in something other than drool from teething.
I've made peace with my infertility, in fact, although the loss is great in adoption, I cannot deny that I love the way my family is formed. After having some surgery in that area last year, my specialist told me that my best chance at ever getting pregnant was the following 3 months. She suggested we hop back on the good old C pill, turn on Marvin Gaye, and give it a whirl.
My immediate answer: No. My husband sings in a silly, weird voice when Marvin Gaye is on. Plus, the thought of getting pregnant just didn't seem like something either of us wanted anymore. My standard, tongue-in-cheek answer is that I am happy not to have a human's feet shoved into my ribs. My secret answer is that I'm not willing to change a family dynamic I am comfortable with.
But you know what, no matter how you become a mama, you will eventually have a child's foot shoved in your ribs. It might be while you are 8 months pregnant and it might be while you are cosleeping in bed with your dreaming, flailing son who seems to sleep best sideways...with his feet shoved into your ribs. No matter how you get from the beginning of the tunnel to the end, the crying baby at the end is the best, most perfect gift.
That is a perspective I can share with all mothers....even the ones who don't have bulgogi at their baby shower.
Picture is of my s-i-l and her daughter. Not used with permission and totally stolen off her Fbk page. Don't sue me, Mama E.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
To the Batmobile
Appa and I have had a couple of days to wallow in self pity and stew in righteous indignation on behalf of our son, but after all that, we're still left with a whole lot of waiting. It's impossible for me to just stop everything until we get our approval, so we've come up with a plan that will work for our family to help us make it through the wait.
We're going to continue to create and send care packages over to Korea with videos and voice recordings and small tokens of appreciation. Little Bro's foster mother might not be able to get them yet, but when she does, she will see proof that we did not take these months of waiting lightly or that he was not being loved by his family. Who knows, maybe if we fill our Korean social worker's desk drawer so full of packages she will just slip some to the foster mother in an effort to get them out of her hair...
We're going to continue with our Korean lessons with a little extra vigor. Every time I recite the hard sounds of the Korean "alphabet," I'm mentally sticking it to a certain someone. That makes no sense, but I get such satisfaction out of the mental image.
Gi-yuk, ni-eun, di-guet, li-uel, mi-em, BI-UP!
(I'm picturing myself in some spandex superwoman outfit, complete with thigh high boots, a cape, and awesome high kick. Take THAT, M.D.)
Today marks 5 weeks of waiting for this approval. Next week, at the 6-week mark (and 3 weeks after we last went rounds asking for some advocacy), we will try again to see if we can even get a status check. Even though I can say with pride that all of my interactions with everyone involved have been polite and not crazy-mamaish, even in the worse of it, I think Appa might take this round of communications to give the tender relationships a little more breathing room.
We're going to revisit with our new agency the idea of traveling over early to visit Little Bro. Granted, we can't do this until we get approval, but it's been helpful to agree that this is something we are going to press for. It's doubtful we can make it work, since our new agency is against it always and the Korean agency has temporarily put a hold on the visits, but we are planning to shamelessly use his status as a "waiting child" to see what we can work out. Honestly, I only feel slightly guilty about label-dropping in this case.
And, most tangibly, because we've been through this process before and know what is expected of us, we are doing all the leg work we can ahead of time. We're getting our copies and letters and pictures together and filling out all the immigration forms. When that approval comes, my family will need only the time it takes to overnight something to the agency to be done on our end.
Does this whole situation suck? Hell yes, but we have to move on and can't continue to be sad and angry (me especially) all the time. Appa's sister is coming into town this weekend for a baby shower, and Little Bug is going to love performing for her. It's going to be super fun.
Light, sunshine, parties, paperwork, online shopping, ziplock bags, hangual, and first steps somewhere in Korea.....It's going to be a great weekend.
We're going to continue to create and send care packages over to Korea with videos and voice recordings and small tokens of appreciation. Little Bro's foster mother might not be able to get them yet, but when she does, she will see proof that we did not take these months of waiting lightly or that he was not being loved by his family. Who knows, maybe if we fill our Korean social worker's desk drawer so full of packages she will just slip some to the foster mother in an effort to get them out of her hair...
We're going to continue with our Korean lessons with a little extra vigor. Every time I recite the hard sounds of the Korean "alphabet," I'm mentally sticking it to a certain someone. That makes no sense, but I get such satisfaction out of the mental image.
Gi-yuk, ni-eun, di-guet, li-uel, mi-em, BI-UP!
(I'm picturing myself in some spandex superwoman outfit, complete with thigh high boots, a cape, and awesome high kick. Take THAT, M.D.)
Today marks 5 weeks of waiting for this approval. Next week, at the 6-week mark (and 3 weeks after we last went rounds asking for some advocacy), we will try again to see if we can even get a status check. Even though I can say with pride that all of my interactions with everyone involved have been polite and not crazy-mamaish, even in the worse of it, I think Appa might take this round of communications to give the tender relationships a little more breathing room.
We're going to revisit with our new agency the idea of traveling over early to visit Little Bro. Granted, we can't do this until we get approval, but it's been helpful to agree that this is something we are going to press for. It's doubtful we can make it work, since our new agency is against it always and the Korean agency has temporarily put a hold on the visits, but we are planning to shamelessly use his status as a "waiting child" to see what we can work out. Honestly, I only feel slightly guilty about label-dropping in this case.
And, most tangibly, because we've been through this process before and know what is expected of us, we are doing all the leg work we can ahead of time. We're getting our copies and letters and pictures together and filling out all the immigration forms. When that approval comes, my family will need only the time it takes to overnight something to the agency to be done on our end.
Does this whole situation suck? Hell yes, but we have to move on and can't continue to be sad and angry (me especially) all the time. Appa's sister is coming into town this weekend for a baby shower, and Little Bug is going to love performing for her. It's going to be super fun.
Light, sunshine, parties, paperwork, online shopping, ziplock bags, hangual, and first steps somewhere in Korea.....It's going to be a great weekend.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
A Warring Heart
I'm floundering.
On one hand, things are going really well at home. Little Bug is doing awesome in his therapies. He is developmentally making some great strides and emotionally he is becoming much more mature (as in, appropriate for a 2 year old). He's pushing back when he should and giving in sometimes when he should. He is kissing us more and just generally communicating better. He is even trying to run, bless his little braced-up, mall walking self. Tantrums and all, he is a truly amazing child and a joy.
Things are also going great in Korea. Little Bro is probably close to walking, if not already taking a first step. His foster family seems like the type of people we would choose to hang out with in normal life. He's healthy and happy and right on track. We've been spoiled beyond belief at the pictures we received of him in the last month. Watching his video yesterday solidified something very real for Appa and I.
He is the child we are pledged to. We want him. We want his little gummy grin and his little butt rocking self. We want that living, breathing child who is so much more than a picture.
On the other hand, his adoption is at a standstill. A horrible, awful, standstill that brought on a second heavy sob fest at work yesterday when I got off the phone with our new agency. There is no outside the box, no shortcut, no strings to pull. We are in limbo between two agencies, neither of which can truly commit to us at this point, and ultimately at the mercy of one woman who will most likely cause our acceptance papers to go to Korea 2.5 months after we "accepted" Little Bro's referral.
Only then can his 11 month countdown start and because of this we are starting to adjust our expectations for the reality that we will very possibly miss our son's second birthday.
Only then can he receive the care packages we have lovingly sent over to show him who his family is and thank his foster family and celebrate his birthday. The packages that are sitting on a desk, unable to be released to a child who technically does not have a family waiting for him yet.
In the video you can hear the Korean social worker asking about us, about why we have not sent in our papers. They even use our names. You can hear our agency social worker try to optimistically guess when we might be able to get the acceptance over so the ball can keep moving, so he can receive our pictures and videos and gifts. To know it will, barring some miracle, be at least another 2 months before they can put those packages in his foster mother's hands makes my heart hurt.
It broke my heart yesterday.
So I feel adrift right now. I've been trying to hold off blournaling some of this because I really don't love writing the "woe is me" posts, but I literally have to get this off my chest or it will consume me more than it already is. On one hand, I have so much to be thankful for, so much to celebrate, so much happiness and sunlight and beach days and chance encounters and adorable video. On the other hand, I feel chained down, unable to fully give myself over to all the joy in my life knowing that there is this one HUGE problem that is seriously affecting the four members of my little world, especially my big star.
How do I reconcile that?
On one hand, things are going really well at home. Little Bug is doing awesome in his therapies. He is developmentally making some great strides and emotionally he is becoming much more mature (as in, appropriate for a 2 year old). He's pushing back when he should and giving in sometimes when he should. He is kissing us more and just generally communicating better. He is even trying to run, bless his little braced-up, mall walking self. Tantrums and all, he is a truly amazing child and a joy.
Things are also going great in Korea. Little Bro is probably close to walking, if not already taking a first step. His foster family seems like the type of people we would choose to hang out with in normal life. He's healthy and happy and right on track. We've been spoiled beyond belief at the pictures we received of him in the last month. Watching his video yesterday solidified something very real for Appa and I.
He is the child we are pledged to. We want him. We want his little gummy grin and his little butt rocking self. We want that living, breathing child who is so much more than a picture.
On the other hand, his adoption is at a standstill. A horrible, awful, standstill that brought on a second heavy sob fest at work yesterday when I got off the phone with our new agency. There is no outside the box, no shortcut, no strings to pull. We are in limbo between two agencies, neither of which can truly commit to us at this point, and ultimately at the mercy of one woman who will most likely cause our acceptance papers to go to Korea 2.5 months after we "accepted" Little Bro's referral.
Only then can his 11 month countdown start and because of this we are starting to adjust our expectations for the reality that we will very possibly miss our son's second birthday.
Only then can he receive the care packages we have lovingly sent over to show him who his family is and thank his foster family and celebrate his birthday. The packages that are sitting on a desk, unable to be released to a child who technically does not have a family waiting for him yet.
In the video you can hear the Korean social worker asking about us, about why we have not sent in our papers. They even use our names. You can hear our agency social worker try to optimistically guess when we might be able to get the acceptance over so the ball can keep moving, so he can receive our pictures and videos and gifts. To know it will, barring some miracle, be at least another 2 months before they can put those packages in his foster mother's hands makes my heart hurt.
It broke my heart yesterday.
So I feel adrift right now. I've been trying to hold off blournaling some of this because I really don't love writing the "woe is me" posts, but I literally have to get this off my chest or it will consume me more than it already is. On one hand, I have so much to be thankful for, so much to celebrate, so much happiness and sunlight and beach days and chance encounters and adorable video. On the other hand, I feel chained down, unable to fully give myself over to all the joy in my life knowing that there is this one HUGE problem that is seriously affecting the four members of my little world, especially my big star.
How do I reconcile that?
Monday, May 31, 2010
Childhood P&P 101
Little Bug must have recently gotten hold of a Policy and Procedures book on Childhood because he's suddenly gotten wise to a major childhood rule, namely
Avoid falling peacefully to sleep at all costs.
If you don't count all the bad nights of teething and growth spurts and illness (and I don't because I've mentally repressed most of them), Little Bug is a pretty easy going sleeper. He needs his routine, but when followed, he had always been a pretty willing participant.
Until now.
Suddenly the prospect of night night make Little Bug turn into the manic clown/demon/charmer. Sometimes he will just cry and throw a fit. Sometimes he will play coy and beg for us to lay with him, only to try to distract us from our lullabies with kisses and silly smiles. Sometimes he begs for another book, signing "read" while pointing pathetically to his book case. Sometimes he wants to play with his monkey from Korea (who is completely neglected any other time). Sometimes he will ask for another drink or Appa (or me if Appa is putting him down). Sometimes he insists on having the wooden engine and caboose of a decorative "choo choo" in bed with him, which he lazily rolls over his tummy while eyeballing it (and me) from the side.
It's gotten to the point where we've started placing bets on what stall tactic he will employ. Whether he'll opt for the flat out naked run from the bathroom to another room to hide or whether he'll bravely go into this own room, hop on his bed, and try his hand at the charm.
Sure, it adds 20-30 minutes to our nighttime routine, but it is secretly hilarious to watch this little tiny baby morph instinctively into a broody, manipulative, adorable, stubborn child.
Avoid falling peacefully to sleep at all costs.
If you don't count all the bad nights of teething and growth spurts and illness (and I don't because I've mentally repressed most of them), Little Bug is a pretty easy going sleeper. He needs his routine, but when followed, he had always been a pretty willing participant.
Until now.
Suddenly the prospect of night night make Little Bug turn into the manic clown/demon/charmer. Sometimes he will just cry and throw a fit. Sometimes he will play coy and beg for us to lay with him, only to try to distract us from our lullabies with kisses and silly smiles. Sometimes he begs for another book, signing "read" while pointing pathetically to his book case. Sometimes he wants to play with his monkey from Korea (who is completely neglected any other time). Sometimes he will ask for another drink or Appa (or me if Appa is putting him down). Sometimes he insists on having the wooden engine and caboose of a decorative "choo choo" in bed with him, which he lazily rolls over his tummy while eyeballing it (and me) from the side.
It's gotten to the point where we've started placing bets on what stall tactic he will employ. Whether he'll opt for the flat out naked run from the bathroom to another room to hide or whether he'll bravely go into this own room, hop on his bed, and try his hand at the charm.
Sure, it adds 20-30 minutes to our nighttime routine, but it is secretly hilarious to watch this little tiny baby morph instinctively into a broody, manipulative, adorable, stubborn child.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Smile
Little Bro,Tonight I saw your smile tonight for the first time in my entire life. I can't explain it fully, but seeing your smile made you so much more real to me. I saw a glimpse into your personality, your life, your essence.
It made me feel in love with you and miss you even more. I'm positive that in the years to come, I'll catch a glimpse of this particular smile and be brought back to this feeling of total awe I have every time I look at your picture tonight.
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