In the last week I've felt the anxiety and obsession with the wait reach a new level. I decided instead of writing about it, I was going to sit in silence. Instead of stalking the forums and message boards (although, don't get me wrong, I've still got my finger firmly on happenings there), I channeled my energy into making a dent in the things that were stressing me out.
And there are plenty.
So this week, instead of blogging, I painted Little Bug's new big boy room after he went to sleep and wrote letters to my son's birth mothers. I shopped for gifts. I wrote three blog posts and didn't push publish on any of them just because I wasn't feeling it. I watched Little Mermaid with Little Bug over and over. I didn't catch up on e-mails and I didn't pour over videos and pictures of Little Bug or highlight sentences in my toddler adoption book. I didn't respond to many blog or Facebook posts. I read Rainbow Valley by Lucy Maude Montgomery and watched the train-wreck third movie in the Anne of Green Gables series.
All in all, a productive week spent doing something other than obsessing.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Butt head
Within the last week, someone taught Little Bug the word butt. As in, the slang word for your rear, bottom, posterior, rump, buttock, etc. And while they were at it, they taught him the context, too.
He's big into saying things "hurt" lately (milk on his chin = hurts; touches something slightly above room temperature = hurts; someone else cries because they hurt = hurts; blinks his eye = hurts). But yesterday he started telling me his "butt" hurt. I scrolled through my Little Bugese mental dictionary to try to figure out what he was saying, because surely my 3-year-old doesn't know the word butt.
But when he pointed to his toosh and said "Poop, butt hurt," that pretty much said it all.
Except for the word butt, which he LOVES to say now, always in the correct context, which makes it somehow worse. I'm no prude, and I say words a million times word than butt on a regular basis, but it's such a grown-up, slang word to come out of my precious baby's little mouth. Shouldn't he be calling it a "bum bum" or some other made up, slightly adorable word?
To the butt head who taught my kid this new word, thanks a ton.
He's big into saying things "hurt" lately (milk on his chin = hurts; touches something slightly above room temperature = hurts; someone else cries because they hurt = hurts; blinks his eye = hurts). But yesterday he started telling me his "butt" hurt. I scrolled through my Little Bugese mental dictionary to try to figure out what he was saying, because surely my 3-year-old doesn't know the word butt.
But when he pointed to his toosh and said "Poop, butt hurt," that pretty much said it all.
Except for the word butt, which he LOVES to say now, always in the correct context, which makes it somehow worse. I'm no prude, and I say words a million times word than butt on a regular basis, but it's such a grown-up, slang word to come out of my precious baby's little mouth. Shouldn't he be calling it a "bum bum" or some other made up, slightly adorable word?
To the butt head who taught my kid this new word, thanks a ton.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Some Days
Some days, usually for no real reason, I mourn the fact I am not at home with my baby all day, every day. As much as I love the choice I made to keep my job and the balance and fulfillment it brings me and the growth and development Little Bug gains from his time in school, some days I simply want to throw it all away and cuddle down into my own home with my own baby and just be.
I'm confident that the choices we've made are right for our family right now, but that doesn't mean those choices come without sacrifice and regret.
Like today, when, pure and simple, I miss my child.
I'm confident that the choices we've made are right for our family right now, but that doesn't mean those choices come without sacrifice and regret.
Like today, when, pure and simple, I miss my child.
Monday, February 21, 2011
"It wouldn't hurt if you stopped playing with it."
Sometimes the words that so naturally and seriously come out of my mouth as a mother make me laugh....and cringe. The conversations I have nowadays leave little sacred.
*Waves hi to 20-year-old Little Bug someday.*
*Waves hi to 20-year-old Little Bug someday.*
Sunday, February 20, 2011
The Gift of a Wait
Dear Little Bro,
You’re everywhere it seems lately.
Every morning brings some new thought of you. The sight of the double shopping cart at Target. The fact that your hyung has taken to calling his bed “Little Bro’s bed” in an attempt to avoid having to lay down at night. Planning a final “Mama’s Getaway/30th Birthday” trip on the fly to fit it in before you come home. A sweet e-mail from a friend. The video I’ve already watched so many times I can practically repeat the Korean being said, although I don’t entirely know what I am saying. The HR process at work we’ve begun for my transition time with you. The travel plans being made with your presence in our family in mind (don’t get too excited, you and mama aren’t going to Hawaii). A touching song from a friend who has you in her heart, too. The way your brother makes out with your picture every night and can’t sleep until he’s “dissed” it and blown another “diss” to the big map of Korea (“Dahya”) where he knows you are. The clothes Little Bug has grown out of that I can’t pack away because I know you’ll be fitting into them within a couple months.
The way my heart has been feeling lately: nervous, sad, excited, hopeful, incredulous, and most of all, peaceful.
Over the last 11 months since I realized so suddenly that we were your family, not a day has gone by that I haven’t felt every one of those emotions bubble to the surface. Sometimes it hasn’t been graceful or gracious or entirely transparent, but they’ve been there. Your presence in my life, even from across the world, has challenged me and helped me grow in ways I didn’t think I could or needed to go.
The truth is that you’re just fine where you are. Better than fine. You’re great right where you are. You don’t NEED me right now. But I’ve needed you. It isn’t your hair I needed to smell or your body I needed to feel, but your smile that taught me a valuable lesson about appreciating what I have, instead of what I don’t. In choosing joy over sadness. Waiting for you has changed the way I practice patience and given me courage to hope and faith the endure. Not small gifts, and possibly something I should cross stitch onto nice dollies.
It's easy for me to forgive the wait when I am at the end of it, but it's also so much easier for me to see how waiting for you has changed me. I'll be a better mama for you because of it, and that's a win-win for us both.
See you soon, baby big star.
Love Mama
You’re everywhere it seems lately.
Every morning brings some new thought of you. The sight of the double shopping cart at Target. The fact that your hyung has taken to calling his bed “Little Bro’s bed” in an attempt to avoid having to lay down at night. Planning a final “Mama’s Getaway/30th Birthday” trip on the fly to fit it in before you come home. A sweet e-mail from a friend. The video I’ve already watched so many times I can practically repeat the Korean being said, although I don’t entirely know what I am saying. The HR process at work we’ve begun for my transition time with you. The travel plans being made with your presence in our family in mind (don’t get too excited, you and mama aren’t going to Hawaii). A touching song from a friend who has you in her heart, too. The way your brother makes out with your picture every night and can’t sleep until he’s “dissed” it and blown another “diss” to the big map of Korea (“Dahya”) where he knows you are. The clothes Little Bug has grown out of that I can’t pack away because I know you’ll be fitting into them within a couple months.
The way my heart has been feeling lately: nervous, sad, excited, hopeful, incredulous, and most of all, peaceful.
Over the last 11 months since I realized so suddenly that we were your family, not a day has gone by that I haven’t felt every one of those emotions bubble to the surface. Sometimes it hasn’t been graceful or gracious or entirely transparent, but they’ve been there. Your presence in my life, even from across the world, has challenged me and helped me grow in ways I didn’t think I could or needed to go.
The truth is that you’re just fine where you are. Better than fine. You’re great right where you are. You don’t NEED me right now. But I’ve needed you. It isn’t your hair I needed to smell or your body I needed to feel, but your smile that taught me a valuable lesson about appreciating what I have, instead of what I don’t. In choosing joy over sadness. Waiting for you has changed the way I practice patience and given me courage to hope and faith the endure. Not small gifts, and possibly something I should cross stitch onto nice dollies.
It's easy for me to forgive the wait when I am at the end of it, but it's also so much easier for me to see how waiting for you has changed me. I'll be a better mama for you because of it, and that's a win-win for us both.
See you soon, baby big star.
Love Mama
Friday, February 18, 2011
The Triumphant Fries
Two days ago Little Bug got a frowny-face note from school saying that he had a hard day keeping his hands to himself and hit and pulled the hair of a number of his friends.
This used to be a daily, hourly, minute by minute occurrence, but he’s come so far. Now those notes are rare and worth giving him a stern talking to. Unfortunately, he’s also in the laugh in your face while you are scolding me phase, which is one of the most trying phases….E.V.E.R. On the day in question, he met me at the door asking for french fries for dinner. Being that he hadn’t behaved, he certainly wasn’t getting French fries, and I told him so.
Freak out ensued.
So I tried a new tactic. Little Bug’s cognitive development isn’t totally caught up yet, so believe it or not, we’ve never used a theoretical reward tactic with him. Until now. I figure if he can cognitively and abstractly decide he wants French fries for dinner, he can handle having them dangled in front of him in exchange for good behavior.
I told him that if he was nice and didn’t hit is friends the next day, he could have French fries for dinner the next night. That certainly didn’t placate him in the moment, but all evening long we talked about how he would get French fries if he was nice. The next morning we talked about it again, and I even asked his teacher to remind him throughout the day.
And what do you know, he had an AWESOME (his teacher’s caps, not mine) day! She did remind him throughout the day, and he did seem motivated to be nice. And when I walked in to pick him up he was all over me about those freaking fries.
So I’m not sure who enjoyed the triumphant fries more, him eating them or me giving them to him.
Of course, this morning when I reminded him to be nice, he immediately asked “French fries?”
I’m going to need to find a less greasy reward system.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Panic
Note from me: If you are a waiting mama who is having a rough time with the wait right now, please don’t read this. I want to be sensitive to everyone who is still waiting, but also need to document my own feelings to stay true to the ultimate purpose of this blog. I worry this might be construed by some as complaining about having my baby come home soon, and I know that could cause a lot of pain to people whose babies are not.
With Little Bro’s paperwork actually moving, with a time frame actually happening, I’ve experienced something unexpected in the last few days.
Panic. Sheer, consuming, anxiety-attack producing panic.
It started hours after we got our EP submittal call. I was walking into the big box store to buy some celebratory champagne and happened to see one of those double child shopping carts. It was big and bulky and looked like a pain in the butt to navigate. It was also front facing.
And I started having trouble breathing.
In 8 weeks I will have two kids and need to use that very shopping cart. Two little kids. Suddenly all around the real life adjustments started staring me in the face. Two is not just one more than one. Two is TWICE as much as one. That can’t be easy.
Appa and I sat down Friday night and made a list of things we needed to do and buy. We’ve spent so long thinking Little Bro was so far away that we’ve never actually physically prepared for him to come. Sure, we have a double bike trailer and stroller and matching Jamaica shirts, but is that really what’s going to be our basic survival needs in our first days and weeks as a family of four? Probably not.
Instead, we dropped serious dough we probably should have been spacing out over these last 10 months on another baby carrier, another table booster, and two new car seats. We also realized that the bathroom gutting/remodel that needs to happen sooner rather than later (think cracking, molding tub) should probably happen before we cocoon our family in Little Bro’s transition period. Switching Little Bug into his new room? That went on our list, too. As did actually painting and converting our guest room/office into his new room. Oy.
And my whole “prepare for the long end of the wait” plan has sort of put a cramp in my project schedules at work. It looks like they are going to need to hire a temp to cover my editing. Not totally my fault, but it’s stressful to rework our plans and for me to turn over projects I had been planning on starting.
And then there is just the panic of a new mother facing an unknown. Appa travels…..a lot. We’ll have 2 weeks to move our nights to some semblance of survival mode before I have to go it alone. Although I won’t be alone. I’ll have two kids who won’t want to go to bed. Our sleep training for Little Bug just took a new and less desirable twist. During the day Little Bug’s life will continue to be normal. He’ll have his school and friends and teachers to give him some semblance of normalcy while Little Bro and I try to get to know each other, and for that I am grateful.
And Little Bug. My little one who I see as half gentle giant and half baby. Being a big brother is going to change something inside of him. He’ll grow and develop so much once his little brother is home. All good changes, I am sure, but it makes my heart hurt a bit to know that soon he’ll never be the only apple of my eye, my only little love. He’s going to have to grow up a little bit, and as much as I want that and as much as he needs that…..being the big brother means he’s not the baby. That’s exciting and sad.
And our extended family, who are all so supportive. I’m starting to write the letters I’ve been putting off, because things will be different this transition. Not in a popular different way, I think. I dread having to spell out some of the things that we feel are necessary for this transition (a 22 month old versus a 10 month old), especially because our family simply wants to cloak the four of us in love. It’s stressful to have to ask your wonderful family to please phone that cloaking love in…for a while.
All these things don’t even have to do really with Little Bro, who is the BIGGEST and most important part of this transition time. At 2, he’s going to come to us with a personality we didn’t have a chance to help mold. What if he’s the natural alpha? What if he is mean to Little Bug? What if he and Little Bug don’t get along? What if he’s a bully or thinks Little Bug is boring? What if Little Bug is mean to him? Little Bro has been the only and oldest child for the last 20 months of his life….transitioning into the little brother might not be something he is really keen on doing. I know that most of these things will work themselves out, and I do truly think Little Bug and Bro will end up being very chummy. Little Bro seems like an outgoing and friendly child, and even if he is the alpha, if that’s what works for them, that’s fine with me. But part of me, as an oldest child myself who doesn’t totally understand what it’s like to live further down on the sibling chain, it feels a bit like I’m cheating Little Bro out of the chance to have my every thought and action focused on only him, like it was on his brother. What if he needs more than I can give?
A million dollar motherhood question that has nothing to do with adoption, I am sure.
So basically, I’m freaking out. But as sweaty as my palms are, I am still insanely grateful for this chance. I never thought that we would have Little Bro home in April, and the feeling that rises above all this panic when I think about it is one of total joy. In 8 weeks, for better or for worse (but I’m betting for better), my family is going to get the supreme honor of having this amazing little child join our family. If that means late nights and stressful conversations and crazy remodels and big expenses…bring it on. Little Bro is so, so, so worth it.
With Little Bro’s paperwork actually moving, with a time frame actually happening, I’ve experienced something unexpected in the last few days.
Panic. Sheer, consuming, anxiety-attack producing panic.
It started hours after we got our EP submittal call. I was walking into the big box store to buy some celebratory champagne and happened to see one of those double child shopping carts. It was big and bulky and looked like a pain in the butt to navigate. It was also front facing.
And I started having trouble breathing.
In 8 weeks I will have two kids and need to use that very shopping cart. Two little kids. Suddenly all around the real life adjustments started staring me in the face. Two is not just one more than one. Two is TWICE as much as one. That can’t be easy.
Appa and I sat down Friday night and made a list of things we needed to do and buy. We’ve spent so long thinking Little Bro was so far away that we’ve never actually physically prepared for him to come. Sure, we have a double bike trailer and stroller and matching Jamaica shirts, but is that really what’s going to be our basic survival needs in our first days and weeks as a family of four? Probably not.
Instead, we dropped serious dough we probably should have been spacing out over these last 10 months on another baby carrier, another table booster, and two new car seats. We also realized that the bathroom gutting/remodel that needs to happen sooner rather than later (think cracking, molding tub) should probably happen before we cocoon our family in Little Bro’s transition period. Switching Little Bug into his new room? That went on our list, too. As did actually painting and converting our guest room/office into his new room. Oy.
And my whole “prepare for the long end of the wait” plan has sort of put a cramp in my project schedules at work. It looks like they are going to need to hire a temp to cover my editing. Not totally my fault, but it’s stressful to rework our plans and for me to turn over projects I had been planning on starting.
And then there is just the panic of a new mother facing an unknown. Appa travels…..a lot. We’ll have 2 weeks to move our nights to some semblance of survival mode before I have to go it alone. Although I won’t be alone. I’ll have two kids who won’t want to go to bed. Our sleep training for Little Bug just took a new and less desirable twist. During the day Little Bug’s life will continue to be normal. He’ll have his school and friends and teachers to give him some semblance of normalcy while Little Bro and I try to get to know each other, and for that I am grateful.
And Little Bug. My little one who I see as half gentle giant and half baby. Being a big brother is going to change something inside of him. He’ll grow and develop so much once his little brother is home. All good changes, I am sure, but it makes my heart hurt a bit to know that soon he’ll never be the only apple of my eye, my only little love. He’s going to have to grow up a little bit, and as much as I want that and as much as he needs that…..being the big brother means he’s not the baby. That’s exciting and sad.
And our extended family, who are all so supportive. I’m starting to write the letters I’ve been putting off, because things will be different this transition. Not in a popular different way, I think. I dread having to spell out some of the things that we feel are necessary for this transition (a 22 month old versus a 10 month old), especially because our family simply wants to cloak the four of us in love. It’s stressful to have to ask your wonderful family to please phone that cloaking love in…for a while.
All these things don’t even have to do really with Little Bro, who is the BIGGEST and most important part of this transition time. At 2, he’s going to come to us with a personality we didn’t have a chance to help mold. What if he’s the natural alpha? What if he is mean to Little Bug? What if he and Little Bug don’t get along? What if he’s a bully or thinks Little Bug is boring? What if Little Bug is mean to him? Little Bro has been the only and oldest child for the last 20 months of his life….transitioning into the little brother might not be something he is really keen on doing. I know that most of these things will work themselves out, and I do truly think Little Bug and Bro will end up being very chummy. Little Bro seems like an outgoing and friendly child, and even if he is the alpha, if that’s what works for them, that’s fine with me. But part of me, as an oldest child myself who doesn’t totally understand what it’s like to live further down on the sibling chain, it feels a bit like I’m cheating Little Bro out of the chance to have my every thought and action focused on only him, like it was on his brother. What if he needs more than I can give?
A million dollar motherhood question that has nothing to do with adoption, I am sure.
So basically, I’m freaking out. But as sweaty as my palms are, I am still insanely grateful for this chance. I never thought that we would have Little Bro home in April, and the feeling that rises above all this panic when I think about it is one of total joy. In 8 weeks, for better or for worse (but I’m betting for better), my family is going to get the supreme honor of having this amazing little child join our family. If that means late nights and stressful conversations and crazy remodels and big expenses…bring it on. Little Bro is so, so, so worth it.
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