5

Five.  It seems like such a big number, a milestone.  Yet 5 years has flown by in what seems like the blink of an eye.

Five years ago I became a mother.

Five years ago I woke up and ate breakfast slowly.  I did my hair and makeup in peace.  I laid down for a nap.  I rushed up and down escalators and from store to store searching for a little orange doll.  Five years ago I swore out loud whenever I wanted to. Five years ago my responsibilities stopped at me.

Five years ago someone handed me a baby.  It's all a haze of tears and watery smiles and then lots of real tears.  I remember everything about the back alleyway where a small child's life was literally placed in my arms for good.  I remember it hitting me sometime that evening that we were now parents.  Real parents.  The reality of the responsibility of parenthood is overwhelming to consider.

I remember singing "Row Row Row Your Boat" for 30 minutes straight while wearing a rut into the carpet in our hotel.  I remember falling so deeply in love that night with the father my husband instantly became.  I remember sleeping with my hand through the crib bars...just to be able to touch my child all night long.

There are many moments in my life that have defined me, but none so drastically, completely, and instantaneously as that day 5 years ago when I became someone's mom.

And not just a mom, but Little Bug's mom.  A title I am proud and honored and so, so, so grateful to wear.

Birthday Boy

Dear Little Moon,

Happy 3rd birthday, my sweet son.  I wish we could have been with you on your special day, but I know you spent it with the people who love you and who you consider your family.  All I wish for you is a day where you feel extra special and can enjoy all the things and people you love most.

Little Moon, I've been overly lucky to only miss one of your brothers' birthdays, but with you, I've missed three.  Your first two were before I really knew you, so this one if the first where I have actively missed you.

We had honestly always expected you to be 3 when we could bring you home, but I have been surprised at how sad missing every day of your second year has made me.  Turning 3 seems SO big boy. I can't wait to get to know this 3-year-old you and celebrate next year with you.

I've never been outwardly emotional about this kind of thing. I don't plan and throw parties or spent the day weeping.  But yesterday, as the clock ticked down the minutes until it was Midnight in Seoul, I wept alone in our hotel room.  I tried to channel all my love and energy into celebrating you.  I sat alone in our hotel room and kept vigil over the clock as your last moments of 2 wound down.  I wept a bit as I watched the clock turnover to Sept 2 in Seoul, and I wished you a happy birthday and rejoiced for you being in the world.

We celebrated a day early here, something we don't normally do.  But I really wanted to be "with" you on your birthday and celebrating with you in real time, so we celebrated while you would have been celebrating in Korea.  It was just the smallest of things we could do to feel closer to you.

The time is coming soon, sweet Little Moon, when we will be able to celebrate all the many coming birthdays with you.  I love you, and I can't wait.

Willa

Two weeks ago and one day ago we had no intention of getting a dog for a couple more years although we'd been researching a very specific hypoallergenic brand for over a year.

Two weeks ago today I went to bed consumed by thoughts of a little white and black ball of silky fluff sleeping on a cage floor that I had no intention of meeting earlier in the day.  As insane as the idea was, I knew she was ours and I hated that she was spending another night alone.  Just had to convince Appa that getting a puppy at this stage in our lives was a great idea.

The next day the decision was made that she'd be coming home with us mid-week. We needed to prepare, since, you know, we had zero intentions of getting a dog just 12 hours earlier and I've never had a dog before, much less a puppy.  And Appa was out of town for two more days.

Two hours later she was in a new crate in the back of our van rocking out to Robot Tim and Human Tim with the boys because I simply couldn't leave her there.  So clearly nothing about this was going according the plan.

It could have gone terribly wrong.

But Willa (a feminine nod to William Shakespeare) is puppy perfection.  Sure, she nips.  Sure, she poops and pees on the floor.  Sure, she puts anything she can find in her mouth.  If I wasn't okay with that stuff, I would be childless right now. Frankly, I wish there was a child whisperer I could find as easily as I found a puppy trainer.

She's also friendly, quiet, cuddly, patient, loyal, and so very very very soft.  I knew I would enjoy having a dog, but I had no idea how quickly and deeply I would grow to enjoy having her in our home.  I didn't realize how lonely the nights are when Appa travels until I had a cuddly warm body curdled up next to me on the couch to fill the silence with contentment. I had no idea how much I would enjoy a little one who would be grateful for little things like providing food and shelter and love without flying into a rage because someone else got the orange plate or spitting their milk out in a "Milk RAIN STORM."  She even laid on my lap and enjoyed a bad chick flick tonight with me.  You couldn't pay another member of my household to do that.

But most of all, Willa has just given me one more blessing in my life to love. It takes a lot of work to help her grow and learn, but I'm learning that Appa and I are actually game for a little hard work because we know the rewards. Stepping out to seize the moment for her felt very exciting and brave, and I am proud we did it for our family.  I feel elated when she listens and behaves and simply proud to be her "family mommy".  (The bonus of having adoption already a big part of our family conversation is that the boys are all about her having a doggy birth mommy and a human family mommy. Nothing confusing here.)

She's cute as can be, for sure, but beneath the fluff is a dog that perfectly fits our family.  The last two weeks have been simply delightful with her in our home.

We also got our EP for Little Moon.  I think that was the universe's way of getting the hint.  Sure hope Little Moon likes "mung mungs."

Hiding

This blog has been a place for me to write about motherhood and all the many things that come with it.  Since the very first post, for the past 5 years, I have written about adoption, special needs, depression, anxiety, friendship, individuality, and expectations.  My audience for this blournal has always been my children, but obviously the more immediate audience has been the people who read it and sometimes comment.  I've received so many wonderful comments of support over the years, as I so appreciate them.  There is also something supremely cathartic about sharing some heavy stuff and "getting it off my chest."  I truly believe that sharing the hard things has made me a better and stronger woman and mother.

Ironically, it is those very hard things that I reached deep to share that need to be buried down deep.

As we reach the final stretch to Little Moon, the path is not free from obstacles.  Some are out of our control, but some are ones we can plan for and work around.  What I consider brave others will consider weak. 

And as Little Moon's mother, I have to make hard choices because I am not weak.  This blournal is one of those choices.  I will continue to post here, but it won't be public again until after he is sleeping in that room upstairs.  It's a very simple decision, but still one that makes me sad.

So if you are reading this in real time, hello.

To My Little Bug as He Ventures in the Kindergarten

Dear Little Bug,

Tonight after I put you to bed, I came down and stared at a picture of you from when you were 11 months old for a solid 5 minutes. It seem surreal to me that you were once such a tiny little thing with a smile wider than your face and this moment seemed so far away I couldn't even fathom it. And although you've been going to full day school and riding a bus for 3 years already, tomorrow seems different somehow. You're going to a new school and a new class and you have to make all new friends.  This is the beginning of an educational life that I hope will carry you through the next 16+ years and allow you to find and shape your future.  Yet, unlike many of the other kids who will be starting Kindergarten tomorrow, you can't yet write you own name or identify the alphabet or all your colors or stand on one foot.

But damn it if you probably aren't the hardest and most dedicated worker in the whole bunch.

So, my darling Little Bug, this is my wish for you tomorrow:

Smile that smile.  Get up when you fall down. Clap your hands and stomp your feet.  Ask everyone you meet if they want gum. Enjoy the yellow bus. Try just one more time. Take three deep breaths. Brave the slide. Show off your t-shirts. Sit still when you can. Soak in the praise. Learn from your mistakes. Always remember that "you.are.the.best."

Little Bug, you have been given many challenges to overcome, but I truly believe you were blessed with one of the brightest, most pure and dedicated souls I have ever encountered.  You will go far in life, and no matter where that is, as long as it makes you happy, I'm happy.  I suppose that is getting ahead of myself, but I took one more look at your 11-month-old self and recalled how I couldn't fathom tomorrow, and I know it's going to go so quick.  And you are going to amaze us all.

Have fun, Little Bug.  I love you.

Not Getting Off This Ride

Lately Appa and I have been participating more and more in our local special needs community.  Specifically, there is a special collaboration recreation district and education district that Little Bug qualifies for.  He'll be attending a special full day Kindergarten class this fall run through that district but housed in one our our local elementary schools. And their rec district offers free companions to attend any regular park district activity or class.  This allowed Little Bug to have a really positive and age appropriate swim season last Spring and will allow him to continue to enjoy swimming and TKD this fall with his peers. This summer, after summer school ended, he started attending a full day summer camp through their rec district.  It's a one-on-one camp that he has LOVED.  It has been the perfect segway into a camp experience for him. I'm so grateful for these programs as they open up so many opportunities for my little boy to be included in.

We've also started attending family functions.  Last weekend we were invited to attend a fairly large carnival/community event in the morning hours before it was opened to the general public.  The sign, as we entered, wished families with special needs a great morning.  Appa and I were not sure what to expect, but it certainly wasn't a fully running carnival with every ride empty and waiting for us to hop onto, every game complimentary and every participant a stuffed animal prize...or two, or three, or as many as they could "win."  Events like this are usually something that end in overstimulated meltdowns for our Little Bug, so to be able to enjoy every part of the experience without the large crowds or waiting in line was priceless.  Seriously, a charmed, unbelievable couple of hours.

When asked, Little Bug likes to say that his favorite part was riding the Dumbo ride..."a lot of times." That's an understatement. We rode ride after ride after ride and played games and won prizes. There was a carousel and roller coaster and boat and car and motorcycle and dump truck rides that we didn't have to get off if we didn't want to. We bumped our way through a glass and mirror house without worrying about people trying to push past us.  We were surrounded by families who all have lives very different from ours, but who all get us on a level many others can't.  Special needs cannot define our family, but it is a big part of who we are, together as a family and how we frame our lives.  Little Bug's needs directly impact his little brother, and I was happy that he could also have a little special treatment to make up for all the things we don't do fully. Perks shouldn't just be for the one with special needs.

Appa and I were so overwhelmed by the generosity and perfectly thought out details of the morning.  It put into sharp focus how lucky we are to live in an area with the means and commitment to serve families and people of all ages with all sorts of needs.   Even before Little Bug joined our family, I feel like we were directed to care about these sorts of possible services.  Having them to bless our family now feels like we've made the right choices all along to position our family in the perfect spot.

If only they could do something about those summer storms, life might be even a bit more perfect.

Moving On and Letting Go

Every aspect of the wait for your child is excruciating in a different sort of hellish way.  The beginning stages are filled with a seemingly endless black hole of time to wait for your child.  The middle parts are more of a quiet, almost apathetic abyss where things begin to seem endless and unmoving and unreal.  The last sprint towards homecoming is surrounded with minute counting, e-mail and phone jumping, and desperate heartache as each day and week come to a close without movement you know is just around the corner.

That's where we are at.  The final sprint where things are barreling ever closer towards this amazing and huge new life, while simultaneously trapping you in a constant state of living with your life on hold.  The entire summer we have been living for August.  Anything past August was unknown and therefore unschedulable.  That was okay. It was exciting. We lived Summer up as much as we could.

August is here now, and schedules can be made. But now I feel crippled for scheduling the Fall or Winter.  I held off planning for kids' extracurricular activities because I wasn't sure how Little Moon would do with them....should he happen to be here for them.

But this week I decided I could no longer force my family into a holding pattern.  My older childrens' lives are continuing despite the fact that each evening without news I go to sleep feeling for a brief moment like time has just stopped.

So schedules were made.  Epically, if I do say so myself.  I scheduled weekly therapy sessions, swim lessons, science classes, TKD lessons, farm outings, and enough bug and insect classes to fill up many of our nights and weekends. We're riding hay rides and train rides and hunting for spiders and owls and milking cows.We're going to magic shows and rock concerts and possibly even booking a guitar-playing robot for a birthday party. Turns out renting carousels is pretty darn expensive...

And I know, at some point, we're going to have to miss some of it to go to Korea and bring Little Moon home.  Oddly, that gives me a sense of satisfaction.  I might not be able to schedule my trip to him yet, but I know I've scheduled plans our trip to him will force us to break.

I'm also letting go of the dream of his birthday.  For a gal who went into this knowing I'd never see this milestone; I sure have thrown a fit about missing it lately.  I recently learned that we likely won't get pictures from this special day...at least not right away, if at all.  After drinking a lot of alcohol in the dark on my back porch and using some not nice words to people I could trust not to be offended, I am letting go of all expectations I have for his birthday.  I know he will be loved on that special day by those around him and by those who will love him from afar. I know he will have a birthday package waiting for him when he can get it.  And I know I'll have all the rest of his birthdays to come to never have to worry about pictures or updates or whether he is getting to blow out candles or have someone sing to him.  I cannot let my joy for him be sucked out by my disappointment. 

So I move on and let go and wait until I can move forward and grab hold of him.