Margaret's Birthday

"There is a cat," says my 3.5 year-old daughter.

We are sitting at a table in our local library and she is "reading" to me from a Rainbow Fairy chapter book. Whenever we come to the children's section of the library she immediately secures the lone red plastic wagon with the blue handle (there are also two blue wagons with yellow handles, but apparently these are less desirable than the red) and rushes to the chapter book spinners to peruse and select her books. Recently she announces that she will only select the Rainbow Fairy books with the PINK covers.

Conveniently there are dozens and dozens of Rainbow Fairy books with pink covers.

Once her wagon is loaded to almost overflowing, Esme comes to me to "check out" her books. This involves me sitting with an old computer keyboard in my lap "scanning" each book - passing it over the keyboard while saying, "Beeeeeep." I scan them. She puts them back in the wagon.

Today Esme grabs my hand when we're done "checking out" her books. "Come," she says, pulling me to my feet.

"Where are we going?"

"To a party!" she says with a grin.

"Whose party?" I ask.

"Margaret's party! It's Margaret's birthday party today."

Margaret is Esme's baby doll. The doll who goes EVERYWHERE with us. Whose clothes, despite numerous washings, have degraded to a rather unfashionable shade of pale grey. Who is, according to my daughter, the source of all trouble in our house. When I comment that the living room is a huge mess, Esme informs me, "Margaret did it. Margaret makes big messes!" When I trip over the scooter suddenly laying behind me on the kitchen floor, Esme says with a straight face, "It was Margaret." And when I return to the living room one day after folding some laundry in the bedroom to discover an entire bowl of Triscuits crumbled to little bits and spread all over the couch...the apparent culprit, "Margaret."

We really do love Margaret despite her trouble-making tendencies.

So, apparently, today is Margaret's birthday (it was also her birthday a week ago Thursday, several times in January and on multiple occasions throughout the last six months) and we're having a party in the library.

Esme pulls all of the rolling chairs from the computer desks over to a table. There is no one else in the children's section right now so I make no objection.

"You sit here! In this one," says Esme pointing.

"OK."

She then pulls half a dozen Rainbow Fairy books from her hoard, slaps one on the table in front of me and says, "This is yours. You read."

OK.

"No, wait!" she says, yanking the book out of my hand. "I read this one to you."

She opens the book to the middle and begins in the sweet sing-song voice she uses when she tells her stories, "There is a cat. The cat doesn't want to be picked up. I pick up the cat. I say, 'Shh cat. You OK. You OK.' I put the cat down. The end!"

She closes the book and looks at me with a huge smile.

"You have so many stories to tell," I say to my daughter. "So many stories to tell."

She laughs.

And with that she opens another book to tell me yet another story. This is what the rest of the party consists of - her "reading" the rest of the half a dozen books to me and Margaret. Some of the stories have a plot and even make some sense, but most of them simply involve Esme experimenting with different words in nonsensical combinations, half-talking and half-singing.

I'm pretty certain based on prior experiences that Margaret will have another birthday soon. Probably not in the library. More than likely at home where Esme will "bake" her a cake in her play kitchen and I will be commanded to sit at the kitchen table where I will have to eat the pretend cake over and over and over again. 

I'm Back (and Conversations with Esme...)

It's hard for me to believe that my amazing girl is almost three years old.


And that I haven't written on this blog for more than two years. What the heck happened???

Motherhood.

That's what happened.

Diaper changes, sleep deprivation, walking circles around the kitchen island in the middle of the night trying to get her back to sleep, schlepping her in the car seat here and there, teething, barfing (her, not me), bottle feeding, baths, sleep deprivation, multiple daily clothing changes, getting barfed on, getting barfed on some more, getting barfed on again, sleep deprivation, crying in my car because I'm so tired, hearing her first laugh, seeing her first smile, watching her roll, then scoot, then crawl, then pull herself up, then take her first step, and more steps, then run, then say her first word and her second word, trips to the playground, more trips to the playground, etc. etc. etc.

Losing myself entirely for almost three years in this wonderful, terrible, fabulous, maddening and transformative thing called motherhood. When I started this blog back in 2009 to explore my husband's and my adoption journey, I had every intention of then writing about our family post-adoption and about my experience with motherhood. But somehow writing about motherhood just never materialized. I was just too busy. Too tired. Too much of a mom and not quite as much of the me I was before I became a mom.

But here I am again. Feeling the need to write. And what else would I write about? Being a mom is my full-time gig. It's what I do. It's what's in my brain. It's kind of all I know these days. So basically it's all I know to write.

So, to kick off the re-boot of this blog I am going stop making excuses for why I've been gone so long and instead get you up to speed on my girl via some of my favorite conversations with Esme who is, as I already mentioned, amazing.

Actually she is A-M-A-Z-I-N-G. Super smart, extremely independent, uber social, fearless, compassionate, charming, and has a great sense of humor.


February 8, 2014

Filed under "What Not to Say to Your Child":

ME: OK, Sweetie, it's time to get dressed.

ESME [goofs around in rocking chair]

ME: Guess you don't want to go to the mall today. Guess we won't replace your bracelet.

ESME [hopping off chair]: Go mall! Go mall!

ME [lifting Esme onto changing table]: Well, we have to get you dressed. Can't go to the mall in your pajamas. Well, you could, but then I'd be a crap mom.

ESME [laughing hysterically]: Crap mom! Crap mom! Crap mom!


March 19, 2014

At the library with La Munchipessa.

ESME [picking up a toy stuffed frog]: Frog is sad.

ME: The frog is sad? Why is he sad?

ESME: Has no friends.

ME: The frog has no friends?

ESME: Nooo.

ME: That is sad.

ESME [rolling a toy car with two Little People in it to the frog]: Frog has new friends!! [smiles]


May 5, 2014

ESME [pointing to her purple sock monkey doll]: This is baby.

ME: Purple Monkey is your baby today?

ESME [nodding, but also frowning]: The baby sick.

ME: She's sick? Oh no.

ESME: Need to go to doctor office. The baby sick. Need to go to doctor office.

ME: OK, we better call to see if we can get an appointment.

ESME [pointing to Purple Monkey's little leg]: The baby has cramp! Has cramp!

ME: Oh no.

ESME: [rubbing Purple Monkey's leg and smiling a huge smile]: Cramp all gone! Baby feels better!


May 11, 2014

I am in bed while my husband and daughter are busy in the kitchen making pancakes for me. (And I know this because La Munchipessa just ran to the bedroom door, announced, "We making pancakes for you!" and then dashed off again.)

Happy Mother's Day to me!!!

[addendum: In related news, La Munchipessa just reappeared in the doorway to announce, "We have syrup!"]


May 31, 2014

So, I'm fighting the spring/early summer crud [cough cough cough sniffle sniffle sniffle]. My daughter;s take on the crud...

ESME: Open you mouth.

ME [opening my mouth]

ESME: You have germs in you mouth.

ME: Yes, I have germs in my mouth.

ESME [pointing to herself]: I doctor. I make you feel better.

ME: You're the doctor and you're going to make me feel better?

ESME: [nodding enthusiastically] : I doctor.

ME: What do you recommend for me to feel better?

ESME [thinking]: Soup!! [runs to her covered water table where she busily combines dirt and grass in a bowl] I make you cake. You feel better.

ME: Well, thank you. I think cake will make me feel better.

What's next?

Although I've been posting regularly, family and friends are still asking, "So, where are you in the process? What's next?"

So my thoughts about becoming a mother, while perhaps interest to some... were apparently not informative enough.

So here's a very quick update:

1. We're fairly certain that we've found the agency that we'd like to have conduct our home study. Our next step is to send in our application to this agency.
   
2. Still in the process of researching adoption/placement agencies. Would like to interview a few more before making any final decision, although at this point I wouldn't be surprised if we went with the law center that we interviewed with a few weeks ago.
   
3. Would like to speak with adoptive parents who have utilized the various adoption agencies that we're looking at so as we move forward we'll be asking for references and making some calls.
   
4. Need to determine if we're going to pursue a domestic or an international adoption. Right now we're both leaning very much in favor of domestic.
5. Banking my salary from now on to pay the incredible adoption fees needed to adopt an infant and need to really make a household budget to see if we can live successfully on one salary (we'll continue to bank mine as savings in the future...kids cost money!)

I think after our experience with the law center interview, Chris and I unconsciously took a little break from all things adoption. I obviously used the time to reflect upon impending motherhood... Now that we've had a little break, we're hopping back on the merry-go-round and will be doing more research/interviews/etc.

So that's where we are.

As Chris said the other day to a friend who was asking the "So, where are you? What's the next step?" question...

"If there are 150 steps in the adoption process, we're on Step 6."

The Good Mother...

My father-in-law, upon learning the news that we are planning to adopt, says to Chris "It's the most important thing you'll ever do." Of this, I'm certain. However, I do - even in the midst of the joy I'm feeling now that we're on the road to being Plus One - have that one really niggling worry...

What if I'm not good enough?

For a lot of years (more than I'd care to recollect or admit) I had no confidence in myself - professionally or personally. The story I told myself over and over:

I'm not good enough.

I was (and sadly sometimes still am) plagued by fear, doubt and a rather unfortunate tendency toward perfectionism... not an ideal combination of qualities because they most often seem to result in the "If I can't do it well, I just won't do it at all" syndrome. Over the years I turned down several promotions, ran from relationships, sabotaged myself in grad school (twice), and certainly didn't take the kinds of risks that could have and would have greatly enriched my life...

like becoming a mother...

All because I convinced myself that I wasn't "good enough" to either engage successfully (or perfectly) in those professional/educational/personal activities. And I'm sure that a big part of me simply didn't believe or accept that I was "good enough" to deserve good things in my life.

Thankfully I didn't run from Chris (8 years of marriage and counting!) and even more thankfully I am opening myself up to motherhood.

But what does it mean to be a "good" mother?

Are all mothers assailed by doubt?

When I study my sister-in-law as she navigates the waters of motherhood I'm always amazed by the vast amount of patience she seems to have for her little girls. She rarely seems phased... Disgusting dirty diaper? Whatever. Screaming 4 year-old? No problem. Toys all over the house and piles of laundry yet to fold? Hey, it is what it is.

My sister-in-law has settled into motherhood with a lovely kind of grace - like it's what she was always meant to do. My nieces are for the most part very happy little girls - the oldest a story teller and artist who chatters away and the baby a smiley little thing who has a wonderful disposition.

It's the same way with my friend E and her two Little Ones - daughter F & son A. I have yet to hear E raise her voice when F and A are bickering or getting out of hand. Nor have I ever heard her treat her children with any less respect than she would another adult. Because she has always treated her children like adults they are incredibly articulate, respectful, mindful and truly amazing little people.

I look at my mom, at my mother-in-law and at my father-in-law's lovely wife and marvel at the their skills, talents and patience as mothers and human beings. And I realize that I have so many resources from which to draw strength, inspiration and support. These are the women who are good mothers.

Today I happened to be in Whole Foods Market and had to make a trip to the ladies room. Upon opening the door I came upon the following scene: A mom on her knees in front of a little girl (obviously her daughter - maybe 5 years old) who has a her pants down and is crying a little. The mom looks at me and in a very calm voice says, "We spilled some hot soup" as if she has to explain this to me.

"Oh, dear," I reply.

The little girl snuffles a little as her mother applies to the reddened area of the girl's leg a paper towel that she has soaked in cool water. "OK," the mom still in a nice calm voice, "that's nice and cool isn't it?"

The little girl nods. Snuffles a little more.

"This is going to make that hot feeling go away," says the mom. "And you know what?"

"What?" asks the little girl.

"They have some really nice lotion here and we'll put that on your leg after it's all cooled off so it will feel just like new."

A nod from the little girl. Then she looks down and says something too quiet to hear.

"What was that, Sweetie?"

"I spilled the soup on the bench," she says just a little louder.

"Well, that's OK. That should be pretty easy to clean up," says the mom in her very calm voice as she continues with a new cold compress.

"And," says the little girl, "I spilled all over the table, too."

She looks embarrassed.

"You know what, Sweetie? People spill here all of the time so they make the tables really easy to clean. It's not a problem at all."

After I finish my business in the ladies room, I leave the mom and her daughter behind to finish cleaning the jeans of soup stains.

I think to myself, "That lady is a good mom."