A Note to My Sons from Their No-Longer-a-Teenager-Mama

My friend Tiffany wrote a blog post a while back about what she wished she would have done differently in high school. She was sharing her list with her high school students and her own sons. She challenged others to do the same, and although I never do stuff like that on this blournal, this topic is one that I would like to preserve for my kids. Sitting down to think about it was pretty heavy, and if my sons can avoid even one of my "mistakes," I will consider it a victory.

What I wish I would have done differently in high school........

I wish I had been kinder to my younger sister. She was dealing with her own insecurities, and I just took mine out on her....for about 16 hellish years. People always told us that we would be close friends when we were adults and I absolutely thought they were full of crap....they were not.

I wish I would have volunteered in the community more.

I wish I would have been more honest with my parents.

I wish I would have said yes when J.J. asked me to senior homecoming (even though I declined nicely). Appa was up at college and wouldn't have minded if I went with this person as friends, and I know it took so much bravery for J.J. to ask me to that dance. He could never catch a break socially, and I so regret being one more instance of that...simply because I was too caught up in myself to be on his arm for a couple hours. Instead I sat at home and acted like an "I'm dating a college boy martyr" while J.J. sat at home because I said no.

I wish I could have found a way to compromise with my parents a bit more on the things that were really important to them. It wouldn't have hurt me, but it would have saved them a lot of hurt.

I wish I would have learned the value of money and how to use what you do (and don't) have responsibly.

I wish I would have backed up and kept the things I wrote, school papers, creative writing, etc. The papers would have come in handy in college and the creative writings would have been a treasure now.

I wish I would have learned to cook as my mother cooked for us each night.

I wish I would have spent more time getting to know my brothers.

I wish I hadn't thrown away the little gold unicorn earrings my dad gave me for my 8th birthday in honor of being able to get my ears pierced. As a teenager I thought the little gold earrings were silly, childlike things I would never wear again. As an adult I mourn the loss of this special gift my daddy had picked out just for his "little lady."

I wish I would have spent a little more time with my friends and a little less time with my boyfriend....even if I thought he was (and still is) the love of my life.

I wish I would have learned how to apply makeup.

I wish I would have cultivated a love for physical activity or learned a sport.

I wish I would have honored my commitments to church more, or at least been able to be brave enough to bow out when I could not longer honor those commitments.

I wish I would have learned the value of chores or the self-discipline of cleaning.

I wish I would have taken better care of the pictures I took, instead of strewing them about to be lost to the four corners of the earth.

I wish we went to more family counseling sessions instead of me canceling them as soon as I got what I wanted out of them.

I wish I had been more aware of how my actions were impacting my little siblings, how my teenage dramatics were scaring them and making them feel worried and sad about the state of their own family.

I wish I never would have dyed my whole head of hair using the spray on highlighter.

And, just for kicks, there are a couple things I am glad that I did in high school.....

I am glad that I was responsible and resourceful enough to get the items and information I needed to make safe choices in my life...despite not being able to share that with my parents.

I am glad that I chased that lone Sunday trick-or-treater down the street and gave him candy when everyone else in our neighborhood (including us) had their lights off in protest of a Sunday holiday, despite my parents' protests. (And in turn made an impression on them that my mother still brings up around Halloween each year.)

I'm glad I worked during the summer and after school....especially that I worked in fast food.

I'm glad I only applied to the colleges of my choice.

I'm glad that my running away consisted of simply running to Ali(ce)'s house and having her mom call my mom to let them know I was going to hang there for the night.

I'm glad I fought for Appa.

I'm glad I didn't say "I love you" until I meant it.

I'm glad that I never touched a cigarette, alcohol, or drugs.

I'm glad that I was open to change.....all the best things about my life now are things I never could have anticipated in high school.

Two Moments Worth Remembering

Two moments that melted my heart yesterday:

Running into Sasha in the hallway and watching Sasha and Little Bug smile and wordlessly link hands to walk outside. Watching them stare at each other with little smiles before waving goodbye. Hearing Little Bug talk about Sasha for the rest of the night. Knowing that Sasha might be gone from Little Bug's daily life, but his impact on my son's spirit is not.

and

Hearing my son calmly murmur "mama" in his sleep over and over again.

1,000 Ways to Love You

Little Bro,

Today we received close to 1,000 pictures and video of you. Pictures from when you were just 8 weeks old to pictures of you crawling and walking and now running.

Even though I am blessed to have many of these same pictures of your older brother, seeing your pictures now, before I have met you, has allowed me to feel like I know you in some way. I know what you look like smiling and sleeping and snotty and drooly and angry and tired and bored and amused and curious. I know how sure of your feet you are now, and how tentative you used to be. I know what your first baby smile looked like and how your voice sounded just as you were finding it. I know what you chose on your Tol, and I know how you only chose your item after a melt down, cuddles from Omma and Appa, and a bottle break.

I'll never be the same.

This wait is awful, and I think it was/is bound to get worse, but being able to share this history with you...having more pictures than day left waiting....it makes it so much more bearable, makes you so much more real. It makes the wait more unreal than you.

I feel so guilty that I got this blessing and others have not. I can't wrap my mind around how randomly lucky I am.

Seeing these pictures today also made me very sad. Not that I was missing these moments with you, but that these beautiful moments are temporary for this family who clearly loves you as a son with a passion that oozes from every film cell. It makes my heart hurt in a way I won't be able to sooth for the rest of my life.

Because I feel like I know them now, too.

As I sit here tonight with your big brother curled up against me, my heart is filled with thoughts of you and him and your families in Korea.

And my heart is so very full tonight.

Safety Kid

As a mama, I know I shouldn't be bummed that my small child is naturally fearful and skeptical of men wearing fake beards and red velvet suits while encouraging children to sit on his lap and tell him what goodies he can bring when he breaks into their homes at night and of knocking on random strangers' doors at night and asking them to give him candy.

But I am.

Eye of the Tiger

Today is a day I have been dreading and preparing for during the last 2 years. Little Bug is set to lose all his therapists when he turns 3 next month and will be getting his services from our local school district (and we're lucky we had the foresight to move into a good district). I'm completely freaked about him losing his excellent ST and PT, but that is for a different day.

Today he gets evaluated by the schools for what services he qualifies for. Our hope and belief is that he should qualify for the excellent half day, language intensive preschool program where an ST and PT will see him during his time there. It's a good school, perfect for almost all his needs (minus the smaller focus on PT), and it fits with our schedule. He can do mornings there and they will bus him directly to his normal school for the afternoon.

However, based on his PT evaluation of 15-18 months (Little Bug is almost 3), as misleading as it is, they want to put him in this really intense one-on-one program for severely disabled children. I'm against that because I don't think that is what he needs, nor do I think removing his social and independent components would be beneficial. Plus, with the full day schedule (full school day, not full work day), we would have to pull him out completely from his normal school...and I would have to quit my job to be there in the mornings and afternoons.

If this is what he needed, I would be on board in a heartbeat. But as his mother, I know it is not. Last time I checked, the only one who has a PhD in Little Bug was me.

I've been going round and round with them because they only see this one number on his paperwork, not HIM. If they saw him, I know they would see he is not a child who needs these wonderful, but inappropriate resources. To help this process, Appa and I decided to set Little Bug up for complete success. We scheduled an early bedtime and canceled all his therapy today.

Because, did I mention, they scheduled the eval for smack dab in the middle of my schedule-oriented, sleep-loving child's nap time?

Of course, the best laid plans always go to hell. Little Bug was up from 11:30 pm to 3:30 am this morning. He spent most of it showing off his first real tune full song mastery ("Skip to My Lou"), but the fall out is he is going to this important eval with less than half the sleep he needs to function well and without a nap.

I did what I could to minimize the fall out. He is wearing his favorite train shirt and I have an entire bag of M&Ms to bribe him out of sleep and into some semblance of a decent mood. But the reality is that he doesn't do well on no sleep and this evaluation will not be his best foot forward.

Which is fine. I spoke to some of his trusted therapists today and they gave me some ammo to use if things start going in a direction we all know they shouldn't go. I'm prepared to get a little feisty if they take his sleepiness for apathy or inability.

They willingly tell you that their interest in therapy is focused on making sure the child can function in public school....not in life or society or in his best self. That's fine, too.

But my interest in therapy, my focus, is broader than that. This is my kid's life, the future of his therapy. Perhaps I won't have to advocate at all for Little Bug today. That would be awesome.

But I am preparing to, just in case. And they should prepare to because a mama bear hopped up on 2.5 bottles of DDP is nothing to shake a stick at.

One Lucky Mama

The last week (or couple of weeks) has been hard for me. I tried to keep it close to the vest, but really, I did a poor job of it. It has been exactly to the day 4 months since I last saw Little Bro's face. That was almost the entire time we waited for Little Bug. I was feeling unlucky and woe is me and all those other highly unproductive and unattractive feelings.

Today/last night Little Bro was scheduled to go in for a check up. We'd requested pictures and an update, more for my sanity than anything else. Although I knew it would take weeks, even months, for these things to get processed and translated (if they even agreed to our update request), I've been totally preoccupied today.

A little bit ago an e-mail popped up, and I opened it without even seeing who it was from. I made a very unladylike noise and did a full spin in my desk chair as I read that pictures.....LOTS and LOTS of pictures, not even from this check up but from earlier and from his foster mother, were on their way to me.

Unheard of quantities of pictures.

I don't deserve the kind of luck I have been getting with this adoption. I'd consider myself lucky with just a couple of sets of red throne pictures...no matter what they actually looked like. To keep getting blessed BIG TIME with connections to our son humbles me and makes me feel ridiculous for complaining at all.

Oh Little Bro, you're teaching me some huge lessons about hope and faith and expectations and silver linings. I'm already a different person because of your presence in my life.

Good Night, Bee Bim Bop

After showing signs of being the only child on the face on the planet who doesn't love Good Night, Moon, Little Bug has finally discovered and fallen in love with the 60-year-old classic.

I'll admit, the book has grown on me, too.

Our favorite part of the book is the bowl full of mush...or as Little Bug calls it, "bee bim bop." Each time we get to a page with the bowl full of mush on it, he points to it and says "bye bye, bee bim bop." Sometimes he kisses the picture. Sometimes he makes pretend eating sounds. But it is always, ALWAYS "bee bim bop."

I hope he never learns to read the word "mush" and grows up reading it as "bee bim bop" to his children.