My Little Prince

My little bug is ALL boy, whatever that actually means. He loves to rough house and get dirty and all sorts of things that go.

This includes, in particular, the British Royal wedding carriage.

A few weeks back, when THE wedding was being aired very early in the morning, I was sleeping. But Little Bug was wide awake, so thanks to DVR, with a couple hour delay, Little Bug and I found ourselves getting an early start to the day by cuddling up to hours and hours of wedding coverage. I didn't actually expect him to watch, but I don't like to reward the super early wake ups with favorite shows, so I didn't feel bad having it on.

What I didn't know was that Little Bug would be riveted to the TV, clapping and singing to the wedding music and waving happily while screaming "HI" every time the camera panned to a waving princess or prince. He was especially taken by the carriage they rode in and asked me to rewind to their journey from the church to the palace over and over and OVER again.

Since then he asks to watch "carriage" at least once a day, usually the mornings. We cue up the point where they get into the carriage and let it go from there. Little Bug curls up on one of us and sucks his thumb and enjoys the heck out of that carriage ride.

It is such an unexpected and quirky love, but it is so typical of our boy. He marches to his own tune and doesn't need flashy cartoons or songs to always keep his attention. Some of his very favorite things are the most random, and his delight in the big and small things in life, as well as his passion and loyalty to the things he loves, are some of his very best qualities that I am excited to see bloom as he matures.

And who knows, maybe the Duke and Duchess will one day have a little girl and my handsome Bug will snag her and get his own fairy-tale wedding (complete with carriage).

Sweating the Small Stuff

Anyone who knows me knows that I am not the mama who doesn't sweat the small stuff. In fact, not only do I sweat the small stuff, I sweat the potential small stuff, the imaginary small stuff, and the small stuff that could possible happen if the moons align is some rare cosmic way.

Being home has allowed me to focus on who I am as a mother, and the fact is, I don't super love her. Technically speaking, I'm fine. But I have realized that I'm simply not a very fun mom (I'll pause here for everyone who knows me to silently cheer that the message has sunk in).

Hello, my name is Cori, and I am a helicopter, overly strict and rigid mother.

I don't think I was raised in an overly anal and controlling home, so I think this is all my construction. Part of it is my typical first-born, bossy, anxious personality. And part of it is honestly because when Little Bug came home and made me a mama, he NEEDED a helicopter mama to help him move and play and eat and function. That mama role is something we all just got used to.

Enter Little Bro, who does not need, nor appreciates, a helicopter mama with a penchant for saying "ahn dweh," and a more able-bodied and mature Little Bug who need the cord cut with his mama. Spending the last month at home focusing 100% on being a mama has helped me see that many of my knee-jerk words, tones, and decisions don't have any reasoning behind them, other than the dreaded "because I said so," not that either son has questioned me about it yet (verbally, of course).

So I have slowly been trying to slow down and let the small stuff go, the stuff that doesn't hurt anything. I'm trying to mentally reason with myself before telling my children "no" because I am often finding no reason to not let them go for it.

Case in point, today as I was getting ready for the day, Little Bro started playing in a tub of bathroom items we hadn't yet put away after our bathroom remodel. My first inclination was to stop him, but then I reasoned that I was the one who had left it out. If I don't want my small child playing with it, I should move it, which I did not intend to do. Second, was there a reason he could't bang my nail polish against a soft plastic container or examine a tampon? No. What seemed unnecessary to me wasn't actually a deal breaker. So as grating as it was for me, I let him continue to explore. He kept looking at me with this little grin, as if he was waiting for the redirection. And that made me feel like a schmuck that my child, who had only been home a month, already has me pegged as a stick in the mud.

Anyway, the experiment has continued. I have been letting the boys do things that I normally wouldn't, just to give myself some exposure therapy and practice not sweating thus small stuff. Consequently Little Bro got to steer the cart all over T@rget and open and play to his heart's content with a package of birthday candles (at home, not at the store....I'll never be that mom). Little Bug jumped in puddles and got his coat all wet and had a couple illicit minutes playing with toys in an empty room at school he always tries to drag me into. Both boys have managed to get some good cluncks on the piano during music class and get a good distance away at the park. They even got to dump sand all over each others' heads.

This probably sounds ridiculous, but honestly, it's really hard for me not to hover over the boys and let them explore unapproved areas. But I want my kids to be curious and free-spirited and feel comfortable moving away from mama. I want to be that mom who is usually good for a "sure" when a crazy idea comes up, and I want to be that mom who has a reason for her "no". My kids, Little Bug because of his developmental stage and Little Bro because of his outrageous hatred of not getting his way, both need more structure than is right for some families, but at least now they are free to play with birthday candles, tampons, and sand.

Because seriously, if that isn't a recipe for a charmed childhood, I don't know what is.

Catching the Distance

There are moments when it comes back, that distant look or tension, the subtle (or not so subtle) inching away from my body or attention. The eyes that close for just a little too long or the nervous gnawing on a favorite blanket from the past.

It's easy to forget, amidst the smiles and cuddles and games and laughter, that everything isn't "normal" yet for my little one. But there are moments, more and more now as we try to pick our battles and introduce some boundaries, where it is obvious at Little Bro isn't convinced we're the ones.

Which is totally normal. One of the most poignant things I took away from adoption training was the difference between bonding and attachment. Bonding is a connection, a relationship built on shallow but pleasant ground. It is what makes most first time adoptive parents crow confidently after 1 month that their child is attached and loves them totally (Appa and I included), and it is what makes BTDT adoptive parents wary of celebrating too much after 1 month, knowing the grieving relapses are bound to come and the true attachment takes time....truly. You bond with a friend, and that is where we are at right now with Little Bro. He trusts us, he likes us, he maybe even loves us, but if we left tomorrow and he was back with his foster family, he'd mourn our loss minimally. That's what attachment is, the emotional connection that can only be broken by trauma. It's the kind of relationship you have with only a few people in the world.

And we'll get there eventually. I know that even 15 years from now I'll tell Little Bro "no" and he'll turn away and make it clear he hates me in that moment. But the difference between then and right now is that neither of us will feel the fear that hides underneath the pain or anger right now because we'll be attached to each other in a way that can't be broken.

So, as I have caught that distance in my little son lately, I keep reminding myself that if I stick with him, keep building tear by tear and smile by smile, our foundation will be rock solid someday.

A Love Letter to My Littlest Love

Sweet Big Star.

I've been your mama for exactly 1 month now.  As in, close to the minute.  People always say it seems like only yesterday and forever when looking back on a special moment, but it's true.  I still look at you throughout the day with this sense of wonder and surprise that you are actually in my arms, in my home, in my family; yet, I also have a hard time connecting back to the life before you were home.

We're not there yet, you and I.  Your love is worth more than a month's time and I don't expect you to be handing it away, and I'm daily finding new ways to be a better mother to you, for you.  But I have no doubt we'll get there in the end.

You make it easy though, you really do.

I love your running hugs that end with your tiny hand patting me on the back.  I love how you always pull a section of my hair out of my ponytail to caress as you fall asleep.  I love how you always play the "ko, ko, ko" game during our night routine and how you always think you're being such a ham by starting with head instead of nose.  I love the noise you make when you pucker up for a kiss.  I love the smile you flash when you hear the words "Super Why" or the opening notes of your Korean music.  I love your "oooooo" face when you see something especially exciting.  I love how you pat your beloved blanket so tenderly after I pull it up to your chest at night.  I love the way you nestle your head into my shoulder when you need some extra comfort and the way you confidently start climbing on my back whenever you feel the need to go "aboobah."  I love your scream of joy.  I love how you clap for everything good that you do.  I love how despite your tough and dramatic act, you're deep down compliant with tooth brushing and medicine.  I love how you usually stay in your bed, even when you're awake.  I love listening to your babble, the unmistakable Korean accent flavoring your baby stories. I love the way you run, a mix of a toddler toddle and cheetah stride.  I love the impish gleam in your eye right before you pluck a key on the piano during music class.  I love how confident and happy you are to explore your world, but always come back to me.


Has it only been a month since I started loving you for you?

You are already changing who you are since coming here, and there is a part of me that mourns that.  I dread the day your Korean babble switches to one with an American accent.  It makes me sad that we so easily drastically changed huge parts of your life, like your eating and sleeping and pooping habits, not because it wasn't best for your new life, but simply because it removes you from your inherent life routine in Korea.  I watch you listen to your Korean music and shows and wonder if you are already losing your retention, and it breaks my heart to see the language I so desperately want you to have slip away sound by sound.  I show you pictures of your foster family and you tenderly touch each face with your sweet finger, pause for a moment, and then hand the picture back to me and move on with your activity.  I don't know what that means, but it makes me sad in a way, too.

I know this is part of your life story now.  One month ago a new chapter started, one that would be written in a different style and language, but one that is still yours and that I have a part in writing.  Tonight as your splotchy red face screamed at me for daring to change your diaper before bed, it hit me that there are two other women who would desperately love to be crouched in my position now, battling their way through a painful bedtime routine with this tiny Big Star.  I'm lucky and blessed and completely unworthy of the privilege of ushering you through life, and I'll try not to forget that, even for a day.

So, my baby Big Star, 30 days down and forever to go.  Thank you for letting me love you a little more each day and for being you.

Love, Mama

PS: I am sorry about dinner tonight, but you do need to consume something besides apple juice for an actual meal, no matter what your feelings on the subject are. But I give you props for pulling together such an epic meltdown in such a hot second.  Scary impressive.

Fear of Tears

When we had our first meeting with Little Bro, his foster mother told us through the translator that he would tantrum sometimes, and that when that happened, we should ignore him. While I was not offended, I remember later telling Appa that it felt like she was telling me what to do as a parent, which clearly I already was. His response was that she WAS telling me how to parent.....THIS child.

A month later, I replay her words in my head daily.

Little Bro had a period during his initial transition where his tears were loud and hard and super intense. And although those tears haven't made an appearance in a couple weeks, he still sobs and glares at me with what I imagine is a mixture of hatred and despair sometimes.

Like when I took a package if Rollos out of his hands today.

And in my head, as I watched his freak out and glare at me, I remembered what his foster mother said....ignore him.

Classic tantrum response for a classic toddler tantrum. No brainer. Except as a new mother to this child, still twitchy from the hard grieving and conscious of attachment, any tears from Little Bro strike fear into my heart and have me rushing to placate him.

"Don't cry! Mama will meet your basic needs like Rollos candy and playing with the dinner knives! Here small child, carry on with whatever it was you wanted to do."

It is a hard line, walking between promoting attachment and getting played by a toddler. Although Little Bro already gets a wide berth in behavior right now, his free pass is starting to get smaller and smaller as he clearly starts to act more like himself....the self that his foster mother said to ignore during temper tantrums.

Although no one can tell you how to raise you child, I am grateful she had the thought to give me permission to ignore these little things.

Besides, Twix are way better than Rollos.

Brook the Bird

Today I took Little Bro to the fancy zoo for his first play date with kids other than his brother (who was in school and missed the fun). It was a nice time for him and a delight for me to chat with friends.

But too soon for me, Little Bro started nodding off in his friend's wagon, and I knew it was time to go. Of course, as soon as we were on the course for the car he woke up and was absolutely fascinated by all the exotic seagulls flying around. Despite the looming threat of a seagull shower, the moment was one I relished. As the oldest, I have no frame of reference for the plight of a second child, but the reality is that now whenever #2 gets something, #1 does, too. In the interest of fairness, there isn't a lot of time or opportunity or reason to spoil just the second child.

But as MY second child sleepily delighted in watching the birds with me, I knew I was going to seize the moment and spoil him and him alone.

I took him to one of the zoo gift shops and let him pick out a stuffed animal. I steered him toward the birds, since that nice memory was fresh in my mind. He doesn't seem like a stuffed-animal-loving kid, but he did take immediately to a weird looking stuffed penguin (a bird we did not see at the zoo) with over sized, weird cracked out TROLL eyes.

Whatever. My baby was getting this weird doll.

And to my satisfaction, he held it the whole way to the car, playing with the wings and laughing at it. He clutched it during nap and while watching SuperWhy. I started to think that maybe this special treat was going to be something that would mean something to both of us.

Of course tonight he took one look at it, realized it had creepy Chucky eyes, and promptly freaked out until I hid it from him.

Oh well, it's the thought and memory that counts....and I have a feeling Brook the Big-Eyed Birdie is going to be popping up again and again as I try to force my darling second son to love this silly little doll.

You, Me, and Us

 

We've all spent the last week changing.  Each one of the members of my family has had quite a week as we noticeably have started falling into our new normal.  With that new normal comes some inherent changes in each of us.

Little Bro and Little Bug are no longer only children.  For the first 2 weeks, they both, in their own way, resisted this change.  But in the last week, both boys have started embracing their roles as brothers.  Little Bug is becoming more tolerant (and even, dare I say it, empathetic) to Little Bro's transition and normal demands on our time and attention.  He is learning to give him space when he needs it.  He is beginning to accept that we can't always read his favorite book at night first or watch Yo Gabba Gabba's Train episode all the time.  He is beginning to explore this whole "big boy versus little boy" idea, which is helping him with some independent play skills.  Hopefully it will also one day help him stop from trying to "sit on Little Bo" because the reality is we really do have one BIG boy and one LITTLE boy.

Little Bro came out of his personal hell stronger and braver than I could have imagined.  It humbles me when I think of the strength and resilience my sons have already had to dig deep for in their little lives.  Although they won't remember it, the lingering effects, both good and bad, will always be with them.  I truly believe that.

Little Bro is embracing us as people he likes, trusts, and wants to be with.  As is normal, sometimes he pulls back, but in general, this week we've seen more of the real Little Bro, the fiery, fast, funny, and curious child we met in Seoul.  He has started giving all of us (including his big brother) unprompted hugs, and he and I are developing a pretty tender and intimate sleep routine that fosters a lot of attachment.  Things that were too intimate for him before (like brushing teeth, changing clothes or diapers, giving medicine) are now less trauma and more just a typical toddler affront to life.  He's started throwing tantrums again, as opposed to grieving, which is oddly encouraging.  In the biggest hallelujah, he's started eating solids for us.  That alone is a HUGE step. Just in general, he seems happier, more comfortable, and less like he is desperately wishing for something he won't be able to have again.

Appa is, not surprisingly, doing best of us all.  He's an emotions-close-to-the-vest kind of guy, but watching Little Bro literally loss his will to exist last weekend was an eye-opening experience for him, I think.  Even then, he was the rock who spread himself thin so that he could focus on Little Bug while still taking care of me while I focused on Little Bro.  At one point, during a dark day, I looked over at him and thought "Thank God this is the man who I picked to be the father to my babies."  He's a keeper, my Appa.

And me....I'm doing better than I expected, with everything but blogging, that is.  Living life is getting easier and more normal, but writing about it is still a bit tedious.  After my serious bout with post-adoption depression last time, I've been watching and examining myself for any indications of those feelings so I could deal with them immediately.  Surprisingly, other than the very normal, sleep deprived "THIS IS THE WORST MOMENT OF MY LIFE"  feelings during the late nights while watching my sweet son shatter into a million sad pieces, I haven't felt the feelings I did last time.  I think a large part of it is due to already being a mother, so the jolting loss of freedom isn't there this time.  I think is also helps that Little Bro is older and more engaging.  In short, bringing home a baby was slightly boring and gave me more time to stew in depression, while this time Little Bro, at 22 months, is able to immediately interact in a more meaningful and fun way (although as I write this he is zoning out to Phung Phungie).  

With Little Bro's grief aside, the hardest thing has been trying to find balance.  I have found that my identity now is not the mother of two little boys, but rather, as Little Bug's mother and Little Bro's mother and Appa's wife and myself...each role needing its own attention and not a simple lump together.  The reality is that two-child shopping cart I have been eying out  for the last year is actually really cumbersome to push.  You can't easily go one way on a whim, instead you have to position the whole darn thing and slowly make your turns. 

And that is my life right now...slowly making the turns that lead my whole family in a new direction. But that's not a bad thing.