Sleep Revisited

This post is kind of like a game...can you figure out what is wrong with the picture above by the end of my ramblings? The prize...I will leave your answering machine message like Will Shortz does. Maybe I'll even sing it, which would be awesome. You would definitely be the envy of all of your friends.

More than two months after my original sleep post it is time for an update.

Jaden sleeps from 7:30 pm to 7:00 am every night. By himself. He has done this since the middle of March. He sleeps by himself because it became too much fun to sleep with me. Dustin left on a business trip for a couple of nights in March, and Jaden decided that the middle of the night would be the perfect time to play, crawl, bounce, and poke at my belly button. I decided that was not ideal. There were about three Really Rough Nights where I checked on Jaden in regular intervals while he protested being in his crib alone. But once the transition was over he has never looked back. Although I really did enjoy having that time of co-sleeping (not-so-much the co-playing), I have also thoroughly enjoyed getting sleep at night in my own bed. In retrospect it really didn't take that long for Jaden to sleep "through the night", but it certainly felt like an eternity when we were going through the experience. As usual there seems to be a larger lesson to be learned in that statement.

Last night marked a milestone. I entered into Jaden's room after he had gone to bed to check on him. I've been too scared to do this up until now. What if I woke him up? Would he go back to sleep? My worry about a rash on his mouth superseded my worry about him going back to sleep, so I tiptoed in to listen to him breathe. Call me crazy...I'm really not bothered. By the way, he didn't wake up. He was perfectly snuggled up on top of his blankets in a deep, deep sleep.

From what I've read and heard, the next sleep regression for infants/toddlers comes when they get their first molars. Guess what my best guess is for the rash around his mouth?

Yes, the answer to the puzzle is that after baby-proofing the ENTIRE house we failed to put outlet covers on the exposed plug right behind our baby's crib. Seriously. Let me know your phone number for the special prize if you are so inclined. I truly am an excellent singer.

Almost Famous

I picked up the proofs today. Some are of our family, some are of Jaden in his hanbok. The photographer casually handed me the portfolio of her favorites during my brief stop at her studio. She was explaining something about a deposit, but I stopped listening as I started crying. Seriously, does this ever stop? These are our first family photos, and they made my heart ache with happiness. Of course I can't post her work up here, but she did put a couple of Jaden up on her website. Enjoy -- I certainly did.

Insert Foot Here

Throughout the pre-adoption and adoption process we have often talked about, read about and discussed how to respond to socially awkward and even inappropriate queries/statements about our interracial/adoptive family. While ready, I can honestly say that no one has even registered on the "did you really say that?" meter since we were in Korea. I wish I could say the same about myself.

Two nights ago we were enjoying unseasonably warm weather and decided to make this spring's virgin ice-cream cone run before Jaden's bathtime. As I was perusing my choices (tough one between Mint Chocolate Chip and Butterfinger Blast) I noticed that we were getting stared at by a late-forty-year-old-looking woman. This is something we are getting used to and it does not offend me. Dustin and I look slightly different than our son. I get that. So a lot of people do double-takes. No problem. Most people stop at that point. Some move on to ask questions. Usually I answer them happily as I love to talk about Jaden. Well, after I was served my cone (Butterfinger Blast won) and was corralling Jaden to prevent him from putting his tongue in a fan, the woman broke out her wallet and said, "I have to show you my two." Before my brain even registered that she was flipping to two pictures of Korean-American teenage girls, I said..."your grandkids?". My voice was sickly sweet, I was ready to connect with another adoptive family and talk about our stories...and I spoke before I looked. She looked back at me and in that condescending tone you reserve only for absolute nimrods who say things that no one in their right social mind would say she said, "No, my daughters."

Well done, Ali. Score one for the insensitive team. I believe we had a short conversation afterwards, but I could tell I was holding her hostage. She probably wanted to get home to blog about the reject she met at the ice cream parlor. Karma dictates that someone gets a freebie in the near future.

New Traditions

The birthday has come and gone. It was more of a "birthday week" than a "birthday day" if I'm going to be honest. Even now, almost a week after, we still have a gigantic balloon that refuses to lose helium and a few decorations roaming about.

Aside from eating good food, hanging out with grandparents and friends, and enjoying some decent weather for a change we did a couple of other things to celebrate the event. To honor Jaden's Korean heritage we went to an excellent restaurant not too far from where we live where we were served this food.

It was excellent. But even better was all of the attention Jaden received from the owner, waitstaff and patrons. We gave him bites of everything and he gobbled it back. He only refused one thing which promptly landed on the floor after he sniffed at it. Yes, it was kimchee. I think it's fair to say that is the equivalent of an Iowan hating potatoes.

Before leaving for the restaurant we had a photo shoot in our basement of Jaden in his hanbok. This beautiful outfit was a shower gift from dear friends. While he only had it on for thirty minutes or so, I'm so thankful for these photos. It was such good fun watching him squirrel around in satin pants while playing with his toys.

Finally, as is tradition, before we opened presents we set up a series of symbolic items on a table. These items were supposed to represent different life paths for Jaden. We had set out a mouse (computer geek), money (banker), cooking spoon (chef), golf ball (Tiger Woods), football (Payton Manning), and a few other random items. Jaden quickly dove for the spoon, and secondarily fiddled with the mouse. Therefore, it is predicted that he will be chef with technological prowess. *Bam!*

The birthday series will come to a close once I convince someone to send me a photo of the cake, as I failed to record it on my camera for posterity.

I'm One!

Birthdays

I believe ninety percent of adoptive parenting is universal to parenting; ten percent is not.

This week Jaden turns one. Another milestone amidst what seems to have been daily moments of change. There has been no shortage of birthday preparation, and we eagerly await the arrival of both sets of grandparents for a weekend party. On his birthday we are going to a local Korean restaurant. We are going to get him a balloon. We will have professional pictures taken of Jaden in his hanbok (assuming I figure out how to wrangle him into the outfit), as well as our first family portrait. There will be homemade carrot cake with lots of frosting, and new toys to make my living room even more carnival-like than it already has become. I am so excited. I know this may be a first-time parent thing, to have this much anticipation surrounding an event my child will never remember. I don't really care.

My happiness about his upcoming birthday is not all that is on my mind. A year ago, Jaden's first mother was nearly ready to meet her son. She went to the hospital, she gave birth to him and she had to say good-bye to him shortly thereafter. As I've stated before, I cannot speculate about her circumstances as I think it only serves to romanticize or trivialize what was undoubtedly a situation that few can understand. Despite that, I think it is safe to say she is thinking of Jaden this week as much as we are. Recently I wrote her a letter. It is part of the post-adoptive process to do so through our agency. I told her what a beautiful baby boy her son, our son, is. I told her he has a perfect little face and smile, and that he is growing very well. I told her that it is impossible to be in the same room with him for over a few minutes without catching his contagiously happy personality. I told her that he is walking, and eating, and doing all of the things that babies turning into toddlers are supposed to do. I told her that I think of her often, and that our lives are forever connected through this amazing boy who has changed our lives so fundamentally. I told her the love we have for Jaden is of a kind I never knew.

I cannot predict the future relationship Jaden will have with his first mother. I know I will always keep open communication with him about as much as we know. On his first birthday, as with all of the rest, we are celebrating his birth and, naturally, his first mother. This is the difference with adoptive parenting. I did not conceive Jaden, I did not birth him, and therefore his birthday is not a celebration of that memory as it is in part to so many biological mothers. It doesn't mean that I am not in awe of the miraculous nature of his life. It doesn't mean that we don’t celebrate all that he has been, is, and will be. It just means that there is more than one mother’s love with Jaden on this day and every day in his life. He deserves to know that.

Part Two

It was two nights later and the parents had chuckled repeatedly over the mishap in the bathtub. They figured that every parent has a similar story, and had even recorded theirs in writing for posterity.

After the boy's bath on this night, the parents were watching him toddle around his room bare-bottomed as they did every night. For a few minutes each evening the wee lad had an opportunity to squirmel around as god made him, much to the amusement of anyone in attendance. This night, the boy stopped in mid-play and made an eerily familiar noise with an equally as familiar body stance. "He's peeing" said the dad. "He seems to be working hard at it" replied the mom. As she lifted him when he was through to delinquently transfer him to a diaper she was forced to stop as something dropped from the boy's backside. "What is that?" asked the father in shock. Does it go without saying what had appeared? But of course it was more from the bowels of the babe. After discarding the aforementioned poo the father was perhaps a bit out of sorts. He returned to the bedroom with a bottle of Pet Stain and Odor Remover (!) for the spot of urine.

Aside from the formal tone of this story, the rest is 100% true to fact. The parents are eagerly awaiting "Part Three" which will hopefully occur in the doctor's office for the boy's one-year appointment next week.

Mr. Hanky

Stop me if you've heard this one before.

A mom and dad adoringly watch their son play in the tub. It is a nightly ritual. There are duckies and Johnson & Johnson bathing products. The dad usually sings funny songs while the son splashes enough water outside the tub to constitute a shower for the father. The watching of the water go down the drain is the highlight of the show. Sometimes (read ~450 times/bath) the son doesn't sit down appropriately and needs to be redirected.

Once when the son was standing the father looked at the mother and said, "Oh, he is peeing." The mother said, "He looks like he is working pretty hard on that pee." They both laughed and prepared to rescue the child from the urine-infested waters. As the father positioned the towel and lifted the boy, the mother looked into the tub as a wave of shock passed over her face. "Look!" she cried. "What?" said the dad. Located perfectly in a Tupperware container used to cleanse the child's hair was a well formed piece of excrement. The last words muttered were "Where did that come from?".