The Here and Now

I sit here, my butt glued to this recliner.  The baby is in his nearby room talking up a storm in his crib.  He loves to try out all his sounds.  Over and over.  There's the Darth Vader breathing sound.  And the pterodactyl sound.  And the squeal-laugh-giggle sound.  And a slew of others.  So. dang. cute.  Not taking a nap, like he should be, but that's okay.  He's having a grand time talking to himself, so I'm not worried about him missing a nap.  

Me?  I'm tired.  Just plain tired.  Still struggling to find a balance between work life and home life.  I'm not doing either one particularly well at the moment.  My tiredness leads to grumpiness.  My grumpiness leads to a lack of patience, with everyone, about everything.  I don't like this "me".  I like easy-going, glass-half-full me.  Instead I'm uptight-glass-is-half-empty-and-probably-dirty-and-sitting-by-the-sink-with-all-the-other-dirty-dishes me.

The laundry is piled in the hallway.  Pretty soon those piles will finish creeping down the hallway and will reach the front door.  Nice.

I can't quite "win" in the kitchen, either.  The dirty dishes are....many.  The countertops (if you can even see them) are covered in bits and pieces of various meals from the past few weeks day.

Some sister-time today really helped.  It usually does. :)  Sisters are pretty important.  Well, maybe that's not an accurate blanket statement.  MY sister is pretty important.  She listens.  She hears what I'm really saying.  She helps ME hear what I'm really saying.  She's good people.  I'm grateful.  Our age difference kept us from being close when we were little.  She was into boys and I still thought they had cooties.  I was all care bears and rainbow bright and she was all fashion and make up and hanging out with friends.

But now, the age difference has all but disappeared.  We can talk and "get" each other better than most.  I like that.  That makes the here and now a little more manageable.

Alas, the happy baby in a crib sounds have turned a lot less happy.  I'm off to check on him.  He who makes the here and now a little more tolerable...

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Today I'm linking up with Heather of The Extraordinary Ordinary's Just Write.  Check it out!

4 Months

Yay!  We made it another month!  You people weren't kidding.  It does get better.  And better.  And better. :)

This little guy has certainly stolen our hearts for sure.  So. dang. cute.  I tell him over and over that looks aren't everything, but he sure is cute!!  Watching his personality emerge is too fun.  He can look straight through to your SOUL with those blue eyes.

He's slowly but surely starting to play with toys.  Sophie the Giraffe is one of his best buddies right now.

He's still working on growing some peach-fuzz hair. :)

At his 4 month pediatrician appointment he was 14 lbs 4 oz (36th %), 25.5 inches long (72nd%), and 17.25 inch head (87th%).  I was shocked by his weight.  I really thought he'd weigh more.  I was also shocked by his length.  He's LOOOOONG.  And his head?  Well, all you have to do is look at him to know he has a big noggin.  We both cried when he got his shots.  I'm not going to argue with anybody over vaccinations.  I'm pro-vaccine.  But it hurts my heart to watch him get shots!  It was all over very, very quickly (the shots, his and my tears), but still.  Poor little guy.  We came straight home, I gave him some tylenol and then he slept for 2 hours.  All in all, it went very well.

He takes at least two naps a day and sleeps about 12 hours at night. I want his life. :)

Enjoy my first attempt at editing a video.  It's James' resume to date.

Adoption

Some days I like to just sit and think about her.  Chloe.  My first born child.

I like to look at pictures of her.  She is a beautiful little girl.  Is that selfish of me to say?  I am her birthmother, after all.  She looks a little bit like me.  Is it bragging to say I think she's beautiful?  I don't think so...

I like to replay memories of her in my mind's movie theater.  Like when I went to her first birthday party.

Words can hardly describe how I felt being there.  Honored.  Privileged.  Excited.  Freaked out.  Heart aching with a pain I hadn't known before she was born.  I wanted to be at that party so badly.  To be a part of her life.  And yet while I was there I wanted to leave because seeing her, watching her play...it hurt.  I decided the pain of seeing her was better than the pain of not.  Seeing her is a constant reminder of what we are not.  Mother and daughter.  It's a reminder of what we are.  Birthmother and daughter.  Slight difference in terminology, mother versus birthmother, but HUGE difference in meaning.  I'm not sure she's all that familiar with the term birthmother.  Even now as a seven year old.  Tummy mommy.  That's a term she knows.  She knows she grew in my tummy before she came to live with her mom and dad.  I love hearing stories from Melissa, Chloe's mom, about conversations they've had about adoption.  Melissa handles it with grace and compassion.  Thanks to Melissa and Alvin, Chloe won't have a life altering conversation when she's fifteen and finding out for the first time that she's adopted.  She'll already know.  She's always known.  She understands better than a lot of adults that this is another way families are made.

Adoption.

Now I have a son, James.

I'm learning to be a mom.  A see-you-every-day-provide-your-every-need kind of mom.  As opposed to a make-one-decision-for-you-that-impacts-the-rest-of-your-life kind of mom.  I chose parents for Chloe.  That's where my parenting decisions ended with her.  With James, the decisions, from what others tell me, will never end.  Strangers ask if he's my first.  I pause because I'm not sure what to say.  No.  He's not my first child.  Yes, I'm a first time mom.  It's both.

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I'm linking up with Heather of the Extraordinary Ordinary for Just Write.