I'm hopeful.
I don't like it. It makes me nervous. All this stuff I refused to allow myself to even begin to hope for (like Little Bro coming home a little earlier than the worst case scenario) is sprouting in my soul. I can't help it. The evidence it there. It's starting to come together. It truly could happen.
I'm not talking about next week or even next month, but it's seeming more and more possible that I'll be throwing Little Bro a birthday party here, instead of there. With time to spare.
Just typing that makes me want to go back and delete it. I have a serious problem hoping for things.
But deleting it won't make it untrue.
Because I am hopeful.
Friday, January 21, 2011
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Dear Little Bug
This morning, right before you stubbed your toe and wanted me to kiss it better, you took my breath away with how grown up you have become. Each time you would open the bathroom door and yell "HI" or "BYE" or "BOOOOO!" I marveled at how your face has thinned out and your eyes seem so much more mature as you raise one eyebrow....waiting for my response. In that moment you seemed every bit the 3-year-old you are and so far away from the little baby I used to cuddle in my arms for hours at a time. It was exciting and sad, all at once.
Then you stubbed your toe. I don't want to say "I told you so," but there is a reason your mama doesn't want you slamming doors....and it's not just because of the pictures hanging on the wall.
Although your toe was fine, your face screwed up into sadness and injustice and you insisted on sitting on my lap. There we were, sitting on the closed toilet while you moaned and cuddled into me and I kissed your tiny big toe over and over.
And I realized that no matter how angular your face gets or how high those expressive eyes go, somewhere in there will always be my cuddle bug baby.
And I love you so much I can't stand not to write about it sometimes.
Love, Mama
Then you stubbed your toe. I don't want to say "I told you so," but there is a reason your mama doesn't want you slamming doors....and it's not just because of the pictures hanging on the wall.
Although your toe was fine, your face screwed up into sadness and injustice and you insisted on sitting on my lap. There we were, sitting on the closed toilet while you moaned and cuddled into me and I kissed your tiny big toe over and over.
And I realized that no matter how angular your face gets or how high those expressive eyes go, somewhere in there will always be my cuddle bug baby.
And I love you so much I can't stand not to write about it sometimes.
Love, Mama
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Let's Talk About Bodily Fluids: The Saddest Story of Them All
This morning I woke up in my husband's arms.
That's happened only a handful of time in the last year. Those nice mornings are usually a result of Little Bug being put down by a babysitter, because on those nights, inexplicably, he does not get up and come to our room during the night. We think it might be because he doesn't know that we are in our bedroom, which is kind of sad (but still, I like having my bed to share with just the hubby sometimes).
After a couple moments of cuddle time, I got the urge to check on Little Bug and bring him into our room for the morning snuggles.
When I opened his bedroom door I was happily surprised to see him sitting in the middle of his floor next to a book. He still needs to work on independent play, so the idea that he woke up and chose to enjoy a book rather than my bed warmed my heart.
What did not warm my heart was the shell-shocked, scared expression on my baby's face as he weakly pointed towards his step stool and whimpered. I followed his finger and saw a huge pile of vomit all over his stool. Suddenly I realized it was everywhere....all over his bed, his stool, his floor. He had been throwing up--a lot--and clearly trying to get out of bed to get to us. For whatever reason (I think fear and shock), he just stopped near his door and waited for us.
The worst part of this (and it takes a lot to be the worst part of the amount of vomit that was all over that room) was the fact that a lot of the vomit piles were dry.
He'd been sitting like that, paralyzed, for a while. Probably at least an hour, and in my heart, I fear more.
We went into disaster mode, me whisking him away for a bubble bath while Appa took care of his bedroom (which would cause him to shake and whimper every time we walked past it). It was heartbreaking to see how long it took for him to get comfortable and feel safe again. He's running a fever, but otherwise has been able to hold things down and doesn't seem emotionally scarred by his bedroom now that it is cleaned.
But his little face when I opened the door after he had been waiting so long for me is something I won't forget for a long time.
That's happened only a handful of time in the last year. Those nice mornings are usually a result of Little Bug being put down by a babysitter, because on those nights, inexplicably, he does not get up and come to our room during the night. We think it might be because he doesn't know that we are in our bedroom, which is kind of sad (but still, I like having my bed to share with just the hubby sometimes).
After a couple moments of cuddle time, I got the urge to check on Little Bug and bring him into our room for the morning snuggles.
When I opened his bedroom door I was happily surprised to see him sitting in the middle of his floor next to a book. He still needs to work on independent play, so the idea that he woke up and chose to enjoy a book rather than my bed warmed my heart.
What did not warm my heart was the shell-shocked, scared expression on my baby's face as he weakly pointed towards his step stool and whimpered. I followed his finger and saw a huge pile of vomit all over his stool. Suddenly I realized it was everywhere....all over his bed, his stool, his floor. He had been throwing up--a lot--and clearly trying to get out of bed to get to us. For whatever reason (I think fear and shock), he just stopped near his door and waited for us.
The worst part of this (and it takes a lot to be the worst part of the amount of vomit that was all over that room) was the fact that a lot of the vomit piles were dry.
He'd been sitting like that, paralyzed, for a while. Probably at least an hour, and in my heart, I fear more.
We went into disaster mode, me whisking him away for a bubble bath while Appa took care of his bedroom (which would cause him to shake and whimper every time we walked past it). It was heartbreaking to see how long it took for him to get comfortable and feel safe again. He's running a fever, but otherwise has been able to hold things down and doesn't seem emotionally scarred by his bedroom now that it is cleaned.
But his little face when I opened the door after he had been waiting so long for me is something I won't forget for a long time.
Giveaway Winner
Thank you to everyone who participated in the drawing to help Tracy and Emi Faith. I know she has been overwhelmed with support in every way, and I am happy to say she will be able to bring a companion to Korea for support. It was affirming to see people come together in support of strangers. In a world that sucks in so many ways, it's nice to see reminders that there is also so, so, so much good and love here, too.
As for the winners of the seriously cool Uncle Goose Hangul blocks that I have been salivating over (which, incidentally, are 20% off from a store whose owners have a heart for adoption) and the item of their choice from Kimchi Keepsakes, I entered everyone into Random.org (and added the additional entries for Facebook, Twitter, blogs, and additional blog donations). The winners are Stefan and Michelle! I'll send the blocks your way; and when you find something you want from Kimchi Keepsakes (they do custom orders, too), just ask the owners to invoice me.
Thanks again to everyone who helped a very worthy family. And to Tracy....HAPPY 11 MONTHS!
As for the winners of the seriously cool Uncle Goose Hangul blocks that I have been salivating over (which, incidentally, are 20% off from a store whose owners have a heart for adoption) and the item of their choice from Kimchi Keepsakes, I entered everyone into Random.org (and added the additional entries for Facebook, Twitter, blogs, and additional blog donations). The winners are Stefan and Michelle! I'll send the blocks your way; and when you find something you want from Kimchi Keepsakes (they do custom orders, too), just ask the owners to invoice me.
Thanks again to everyone who helped a very worthy family. And to Tracy....HAPPY 11 MONTHS!
Thursday, January 13, 2011
A Fact of My Life
Scene: Mommy/son dinner.
Very nice 30-something waitress who had been flirting with Little Bug all evening: "He's simply adorable. Are you babysitting?"
Me, without a second of hesitation or annoyance: "Nope, he's mine!"
End scene.
The fact of the matter is I'll always get this question. And the fact of the matter is it no longer bothers me or trips me up.
He's mine. I'm his. And I don't mind who asks.
Very nice 30-something waitress who had been flirting with Little Bug all evening: "He's simply adorable. Are you babysitting?"
Me, without a second of hesitation or annoyance: "Nope, he's mine!"
End scene.
The fact of the matter is I'll always get this question. And the fact of the matter is it no longer bothers me or trips me up.
He's mine. I'm his. And I don't mind who asks.
Monday, January 10, 2011
NMR 1:10
It is perhaps sad that on day 10 of my first new month resolution I almost caved.
This month's resolution is never to leave a dirty dish in the sink when I go to bed at night. Perhaps for most people this is intuitive, but for me.....dishes sometimes spend the night (or occasionally two) hanging out in the sink. It's bad, I know. So in keeping with my manageable NMR goal, I figured an easy and simple start would be to do the dishes every night. What doesn't fit in the dishwasher gets hand washed.
I've been doing okay the last week. Because I don't cook (a more lofty NMR for the future), we never have huge amounts of dishes. It only takes a few minutes for me to get the dishes done on any given night (after Little Bug is in bed, of course), and I really like the satisfaction of starting an evening dinner with a clean sink.
But last night it just didn't happen, for whatever reason. I was working late after the boys had gone to bed and as I got up to turn out the lights I saw the sink.
Full of dishes.
At 11:50.
And I turned off the lights and started to walk upstairs. I mean, one day off wouldn't hurt me. But I managed to guilt myself into turning around, turning back on the lights, and loading the dishwasher just before Midnight. It may seem ridiculously small, but I am a lover of taking the easy way out, so this was a new one for me.
Of course, I forgot to actually turn the dishwasher on last night, but I'm still counting it as a win.
This month's resolution is never to leave a dirty dish in the sink when I go to bed at night. Perhaps for most people this is intuitive, but for me.....dishes sometimes spend the night (or occasionally two) hanging out in the sink. It's bad, I know. So in keeping with my manageable NMR goal, I figured an easy and simple start would be to do the dishes every night. What doesn't fit in the dishwasher gets hand washed.
I've been doing okay the last week. Because I don't cook (a more lofty NMR for the future), we never have huge amounts of dishes. It only takes a few minutes for me to get the dishes done on any given night (after Little Bug is in bed, of course), and I really like the satisfaction of starting an evening dinner with a clean sink.
But last night it just didn't happen, for whatever reason. I was working late after the boys had gone to bed and as I got up to turn out the lights I saw the sink.
Full of dishes.
At 11:50.
And I turned off the lights and started to walk upstairs. I mean, one day off wouldn't hurt me. But I managed to guilt myself into turning around, turning back on the lights, and loading the dishwasher just before Midnight. It may seem ridiculously small, but I am a lover of taking the easy way out, so this was a new one for me.
Of course, I forgot to actually turn the dishwasher on last night, but I'm still counting it as a win.
Boo!
Before I had a child there were certain recurring daydreams I would have. Some were big, like Christmas mornings or our family days. Others (and in some ways, more treasured) daydreams were more mundane, like reading my son a book while rocking him to sleep or taking him outside to play in the snow.
A major recurring daydream would come to me in the mornings as I was getting ready for work. At those moments, with the day not yet cluttered with meddling volunteer editors and meetings of various degrees of frustration, I would style my hair and apply my makeup quietly (a daydream of mine now) while imagining my little son running happily up and down our hallway, fresh with sleep and excitement for the day. I would imagine taking a minute to peek around the bathroom door to watch him dart in and out of the rooms, dragging some blanket behind him. I'd imagine him bringing some toy cars into the bathroom, vrooming them around my bare feet as I good-naturedly swatted them away.
I'd think of this nearly every morning. Long after my darling Little Bug came home and it became obvious that the hallway running wasn't happening right away. I knew it would happen someday.
And then I stopped daydreaming about it. Probably because all my brain power in the mornings is now focused on whether I can shower and dry my hair before Little Bug enters Threat Level Midnight and starts flushing things down the toilet.
But the last few days Appa has been home from travel, allowing me to blow dry my hair on consecutive days (gasp), and I've started noticing something.
Little Bug, running up and down our hall while his laughter echos into the bathroom. Little Bug, peeking around the corner of the door and yelling "BOO" before dissolving into fits of giggles. Little Bug, his hands full of ahzuhs and pillow (a new but beloved friend), along with a couple "choo choo trains," shuffling around my feet as I try to apply my makeup.
To be sure, it's a slight pain when I'm rushing to get ready and he keeps stealing my perfume out of my door or is using his toothbrush as a broom. But it's also one of those moments that I always dreamed about finally coming true. And when I realized that this morning, everything seemed fairly near perfect.
A major recurring daydream would come to me in the mornings as I was getting ready for work. At those moments, with the day not yet cluttered with meddling volunteer editors and meetings of various degrees of frustration, I would style my hair and apply my makeup quietly (a daydream of mine now) while imagining my little son running happily up and down our hallway, fresh with sleep and excitement for the day. I would imagine taking a minute to peek around the bathroom door to watch him dart in and out of the rooms, dragging some blanket behind him. I'd imagine him bringing some toy cars into the bathroom, vrooming them around my bare feet as I good-naturedly swatted them away.
I'd think of this nearly every morning. Long after my darling Little Bug came home and it became obvious that the hallway running wasn't happening right away. I knew it would happen someday.
And then I stopped daydreaming about it. Probably because all my brain power in the mornings is now focused on whether I can shower and dry my hair before Little Bug enters Threat Level Midnight and starts flushing things down the toilet.
But the last few days Appa has been home from travel, allowing me to blow dry my hair on consecutive days (gasp), and I've started noticing something.
Little Bug, running up and down our hall while his laughter echos into the bathroom. Little Bug, peeking around the corner of the door and yelling "BOO" before dissolving into fits of giggles. Little Bug, his hands full of ahzuhs and pillow (a new but beloved friend), along with a couple "choo choo trains," shuffling around my feet as I try to apply my makeup.
To be sure, it's a slight pain when I'm rushing to get ready and he keeps stealing my perfume out of my door or is using his toothbrush as a broom. But it's also one of those moments that I always dreamed about finally coming true. And when I realized that this morning, everything seemed fairly near perfect.
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