Celebration of Life

Two months ago, today, I got a tattoo to celebrate my life as it currently was. It was perfect. I had been considering a tattoo since we began planning for an adoption. Flash forward two years, and my life was full. I had everything I ever wanted, and I wanted – no needed – to mark this moment in time forever.
Of course, there’s Michael, the best husband in the entire world, and the only person I could ever share this journey with. Simply, he’s amazing. He loves me, he loves our girls, and he loves Malcolm. He’s the best daddy to our girls and our boy, and he puts up with my wacky ideas and terrible singing. He’s level-headed and kind-hearted. He’s the leader and guardian of our family.
Murf and Brit, of course, my girls. The day of the tattoo, May 10, was 4 days after Murf completed radiation. My heart was full of hope and love and admiration for her. She’s a survivor, and a tough but gentle baby girl. She’s my first baby, and taught me so much about life and love. She taught me how to love. We went through a lot together, including several homes, our wedding, building the house, and countless times where she supported me emotionally and loved me unconditionally. She’d press her little smush face against mine and nudge me to let me know everything would be ok. I briefly considered a tattoo in college to signify my love for Murf, but could never commit to a design or location. I’m glad I waited.
Because Britney changed my life in a completely different way. She fills our home with such joy. She’s the perfect companion for Murphy, and the perfect distraction as we waited for an adoption match. We got her about two months before we started the process. Looking back, I think the challenges of bringing her home from the shelter, fighting the shelter rules to allow me to adopt her, training her and gaining her trust were all God working though her to make my heart ready for Malcolm. She taught me that love can be hard, and sometimes you have to fight for what is right, but its always worth it. She loves Murf and Malcolm so much. She shares her toys with them, and she always gave Murf first dibs when Malcolm was dropping snacks from his high chair. She’s a gentle baby with a big deep ferocious bark. Don’t be fooled by that bark, though. She doesn’t trust many people, likely a sign of what she went through before we adopted her, but once you gain her trust, you’re in for life. You might be sorry, because she won’t stop jumping on you or licking you.
And then there’s Malcolm. His story and my love for him are all over this blog, but I’ll say it again – he healed my heart. My love for him is the same for my girls, in that I hold them all in such an important and significant place in my heart. But it’s also different, complex in ways I haven’t experienced before. I guess it’s that way for all my babies – I love them all the same, and yet all different because they are individuals.

I can’t truly put my feelings for my three babies and my husband into adequate words. Which is why I chose this tattoo. It’s a sign to the world of what they mean to me.

It’s on my left rib, close to my heart. Two birds, which are symbolic of a couple of things. They can represent me and mike, as the leaders and partners of this family, or they can represent the Lord’s guidance and influence over our family. His influence comes from above and works through each family member to make the world a better place. Next are the names of my babies, in births order, “murphy britney malcolm”.
On Friday, May 10, my 29th birthday, mike and I went see Wicked at the Mahalia Jackson theater. We then drove over to a (clean, well-researched) tattoo shop on Frenchman St. The tattoo artist suggested I either put Malcolm first, or get two separate tattoos, one for my kid, and one for my pups. But I refused. These babies are all equal in my heart, and this tattoo was a sign of how amazing my life was in that moment. How much better it was because these creatures were in it. I knew, deep in my heart, that my life would soon change, though I didn’t know how soon. This tattoo is a symbol of a chapter of my life. I got Murphy when I was 21 years old, married Mike at 23, adopted Britney when I was 26, and Malcolm came into my life at 28. My twenties were amazing. The best years of my life, by far, and I’m not even talking about those college days yet. My awesome friends could fill a whole other post that would run pages and pages long. They entered my life at the best time, and continue to fill my heart in ways I can’t express. This tattoo was a symbol of my twenties, a symbol of my perfect life as it currently was. My heart was overflowing. It’s rare in life that you truly know how good you have it. That day, I knew. And everyday, as I’m getting dressed, brushing my teeth, or going for a swim, I see this tattoo next to my heart, and I know how awesome life truly is.

Remind Me About This Next Year

For all the fear and griping and stress and fretting… This first birthday party was totally worth it. Remind me of that next year when I protest and say I don’t want to do anything for his birthday.

Raise your hand if you like birthday parties. Ok, if you like birthday parties for one-year-olds with your extended family who you just saw last week (mothers day). Ok fine, maybe it’s just me, but the whole thing gives me anxiety like I never knew before. If it’s a daycare friend, or mike’s relative, or another kid Malcolm’s age, I feel stressed. Like, I know most of the parents, but these aren’t my best friends, and I can’t quite totally relax because I’m either chasing Malcolm, or I’m trying to (politely) stop someone else from feeding him crap. Part of that is my shyness/introversion and I can usually overcome that pretty quickly… Or grin and bear it for two hours. And part of that is my protectiveness (overly?) of Malcolm. And of course, other people (relatives) see this as their chance to scoop him up and get in some quality time. But there’s a part of me that wants to hold him the whole time and not share him at all. Because all these years (10 years) of suffering infertility in silence (by my own choice) has really done a number on me. There was a time when birthday parties and baby showers and a random Friday night at my dad’s restaurant would instill a fear and jealousy in me like no other. And while the miracle of adoption and Malcolm have healed my heart, part of me still dreads facing “all those babies,” and so I just have grown to dread birthday parties. There are exceptions, of course. My godchild, and my close friends. But mostly, I just send a gift and don’t show up. Terrible, I know.

So on top of my dread of parties, I was also not really into the idea of hosting one. Want me to host a few friends at Christmas time? No prob – couple bottles of wine, couple cases of beer, a clean house and some jambalaya, and we’re all set. But host extended relatives, friends, and a million kids?? Argh!! So. Much. Pressure. Have you seen what Pinterest has single-handedly done to the first birthday party? Yikes. So I stomped my feet and (seriously) said I wouldn’t have a party. We conveniently had a family vacation planned right after his birthday, so there just wouldn’t be time for a big party. Well, with Murf’s medical expenses, a family trip to Disney just wasn’t in the budget anymore. So after much debate, we decided to have a low-key, simple party. Ha! Low key! Simple! Yeah right.

My idea of low-key was a home-made cake and cupcakes, a few custom decorations bough off of etsy.com and a pot of jambalaya. Family alone was about 50 people, so just a few more friends and we have a party. Then I decided that it should be a splash bash. The decorations I found online had cute little whales on them. My Parrain has a big blow up water slide that we could use for free- just have to clean it, Mike made a sprinkler out of PVC pipe, and his mom had bought Malcolm a blow-up pool for him to play in this summer. We were set! Somehow, a jambalaya turned into jambalaya, fruits, veggies, nachos and hot dogs and chili. Plus cake and cupcakes and ice cream, of course. And a few simple decorations became a Pinterest-inspired cake table with tissue poms hanging from the ceiling, a beautiful cake made by Mike’s mom, with mini fabric pennants and a number 1 topper made of melted and molded almond bark and color-coordinated sprinkles, three dozen cupcakes in coordinated colors and sprinkles, with cute little toppers that matched the birthday banner. I’m a last minute person, but this was no last-minute party. Mike’s mom is a type-A planner. Weeks in advance, she was pressuring me to buy the flags for the cake. She drove an hour to a specialty bakery shop to purchase the right color sprinkles and cupcake liners. She was showing me test cake toppers she had made, and suggesting improvements. She kindly offered to thoroughly clean our house the week of the party, so I had to tidy up before she came over. No last-minute-shove-it-all-in-a-closet clean sweep would cut it. In short, she was stressing me out. Or was she just my scapegoat for my stress, and I was really stressing myself out by dragging my feet and procrastinating? Hmmm…

On Wednesday before the party, Mike pulled a muscle in his back while trying to unload the water slide from the trailer. The doctor gave him a cortisone shot, and a prescription for pain meds, muscle relaxers and a pack. Cortisone pack? Idk. He had strict instructions to not lift and take the next two days off of work. Poor Mike. Telling him to keep still is about the worst thing you can do to him. By the day of the party, he was thankfully, feeling better. The list of reasons to stress goes on and on. I was leaving for a work trip to Orlando on the Monday following the party and there was just so much emotion tied up in that one weekend – first birthday party plus my first trip out of town, alone, since Malcolm was born.

Can I just say, after all the stress and planning, that it was totally worth it? Sure, we can scale back a bit next year. Less food, less decorations, less beer (or better placement of beer so that people know where it is and actually drink it?), but it really was worth it. The kids loved the water slide, the pool, and the sprinkler. We also had a miniature bounce house in the front yard, and the kids loved that too. Except Malcolm. He was terrified of the water, didn’t care much about his smash cake, and couldn’t be bothered to open presents. And that was fine by me. It’s his party. I didn’t mind spoiling him a little. And if that meant to just let him do his thing when he wanted to do it, fine. So he mostly just walked around in his swim trunks, no shirt, ignoring his friends in the pool. The grown-ups held him, and he kinda just did his own thing. All the people and toys everywhere may have overwhelmed him. The first party is really for the parents anyway, right? That’s what everyone says. Except it was really for us, his parents, and our parents, his grandparents. They probably enjoyed it just as much. I’m pretty sure I fell asleep with a smile on my face. I felt accomplished. It was a success.

My First Mother’s Day

My first official Mother’s Day (because Mike swears last year doesn’t count since Malcolm wasn’t born yet) is almost done, and I have to say it was a wonderful day! I don’t want to fall asleep. I don’t want it to end! Last year, Mother’s Day was filled with nerves and anxiety. It was the day we met Malcolm’s birthfamily for the first time. Would they like us? Would we live up to their expectations? Would this baby boy, to be born on Tuesday, be coming home with us? Is this real life?? And in stark contrast, today was just peaceful and easy. I snuggled with my puppies, and got a wake up call and a card from Malcolm.

The three of us went to church together, and Malcolm behaved more than usual. Lunch with Mike’s family, afternoon with mine, and supper back with Mike’s family. It was relaxed and lazy. We played outside, danced to Cajun music, and played with other people’s puppies. Malcolm played with all his cousins, ate pickles and ice cream, and passed out on the table. And people wished me a happy Mother’s Day. And it didn’t feel weird. They did that last year too, but I just kept asking them not to, so as not to jinx the plans. As if that made all the difference. But this year, I just smiled (beamed, really) and thanked them.

Go home Malcolm. You’re drunk. #justkidding #justnapping

Gosh, I love that face. All these faces. I thank God every day for putting them in my life.
Another beautiful face I thank God for is my godchild, Reecie. Apparently she told her mom, “I no like Malcolm.” When asked why, “because he stole my nanny.” Does that not just melt your heart!? Talk about a guilt trip. No one told her that, she just decided that. She’s fricken adorable.

A year ago to the date, we shared the details of our match with our friends. We hosted the annual crawfish boil, and told most people that day. When i think back to that day, I don’t remember much, except the general feelings of nervousness and overwhelming love and support. What great friends we have. God put them in my life for a reason.

I spoke to Malcolm’s birthmom’s grandmother today to wish her a happy Mother’s Day. She has been so instrumental in Malcolm’s entire adoption. It was she who connected her granddaughter with our agency, and she occasionally sends Malcolm photos, letters, and gifts. I believe she memorized the details of our profile book, knows our parents names and our wedding date and our birthdays. And while I don’t know for sure, I believe she had a huge part in us being chosen as Malcolm’s family. There were a lot of factors in that match, but I know she was extremely involved. We speak on the phone about once every month or so. She seems both happy and sad with the way thing have worked out. I know she wishes Malcolm was in her life more, but I know for a fact that she is grateful that we can raise him and love him and give him everything he needs. And we are grateful for that too. I hope she knows how special she is.

I hope that Malcolm’s birth mother had a happy Mother’s Day with her first son, Malcolm’s biological brother. I hope she wasn’t sad. I hope she’s looking forward to our next gathering in June when we will celebrate Malcolm’s birthday together. And I hope she knows how special she is, how brave she is. She made a loving sacrifice, and there aren’t enough words to explain just how awesome and selfless that is.

One Year Ago

Get ready for mush-fest 2k13. Because it’s about to get allllllllll sentimental up in this biotch.

A year ago today, we got “the call.” A baby boy is to be born in a week, and we were chosen, by his birth parents, to be his parents. I’mma let that sink in for a minute. We are chosen to be his parents. Wow. The miracle of adoption never ceases to astound me. Blows my effin mind, if we’re being honest. A year ago, we were care-free. I was totally relaxed, eating my subway salads, just livin life… And BAM! Life changer!

What a year it has been. Get ready, because the next week is very special to me, and unlike my husband, I like to get sentimental and mushy and dramatic and generally cray when the time is right. The time is right, my friends. If this isn’t a reason to act cray, then I don’t know what is.

I love you Malcolm James!

**Full disclosure: I do not approve, in any way, of my dumb-ass sister putting her strong-ass prescription glasses on my baby’s developing eyes, and I’ll deny it to her face till the day I die, lest i encourage her stupidity, and ruin my baby’s eyes forever, BUT….. He looks damn cute wearing her glasses!

My Affections for Bruno Mars

Malcolm’s parrain thinks he looks like Bruno Mars. I guess I can kind of see it, what with the tan skin, crazy beautiful curls, and awesome dance moves. It’s not a striking resemblance, but, ok, I’ll go with it. It makes me smile to think of it. As a result, “Locked Out of Heaven” has sorta become Malcolm’s theme song. He’s crying? Que it up on the iPod. Changing his diaper and he won’t keep still? Sing it loud as you can. “Oh yeah yeah! Oh yeah yeah, yeah yeah…dun da dun… Huh!” “You make me feel like….. i been locked outta heaven… for too long-oong- onng… For too long-oong- onng.” He instantly starts dancing and wiggling and clapping and smiling and squealing, and… Sigh. Melt my heart. He’s adorable. He’s got personality.

Aside from questionable yet great lyrics, (I always skip the part about sex taking me to paradise when singing TO Malcolm), the song has awesome opportunities for sound effects and funny noises that make the babies go crazy. Add on to this Bruno Mars’ second hit from Unorthodox Jukebox, “When I was your Man,” and I’m in love. The man has soul. I feel for him. I cry when he cries. Driving home one day, this song came on, and randomly, Mike said, “aw buddy, she broke your heart,” to Malcolm. Clearly we’re taking this “slight resemblance” too far. And now that’s my new favorite song. “It all just sounds like ooooo, ooooo, ooooohooo, ooooooo…… Too young too dumb to realize!!!”

Riding in the truck this weekend, “When I Was Your Man” came on the radio. The DJ talking over the song’s intro said that since this song’s release, Bruno Mars has since gotten back together with Jessica Somebody, the model-ex-girlfriend that the song was written for. And I couldn’t help but feel truly happy for the guy. Like deep in my heart happy. Is it because I now associate him with Malcolm? I guess so. I don’t know this man’s story, don’t know why he and Jessica Somebody broke up, but man, am I glad they’re back together.

And We Have a Walker!

Whelp, we have ourselves a walker! This past Wednesday, he just took off!

He doesn’t usually choose to walk, but he’s willing if we get him started. He just melts my heart.

First Steps

Malcolm took his first steps yesterday. At least I think they were his first. It happened at daycare, and he gave us a repeat performance at home last night. Only 2 or 3 wobbly steps then he falls forward, realizing what he’s done. But sure enough, he’s taking some unassisted steps. He did it a couple of times at home until he fell like a tree in the forrest and face planted into the carpet. Me, being the over-protective mommy, swooped in and picked him up, all the while Mike was fussing me about mommy-ing him. And that was the end of walking for the night. We tried again before work this morning, and got a couple more shaky steps. Britney likes to cut right in front and knock him down, while Murf couldn’t be less interested. She’s probably figured out that him walking spells trouble for her.

It’s weird. I thought I’d be upset if I didn’t witness his first steps. I want to be the first to see everything. It was something I felt very strongly about when he was first born. But I’m not that upset. As he grows, I’m seeing that it’s all very fluid. It’s hard to say he did something for the first time, because everything seems to be constantly in transition. He’s been walking while holding our hand for awhile now, so naturally, he’ll be walking on his own soon. Then his steps will become steadier and quicker, and soon he’ll be running. That’s just how it goes. I’m just so surprised at my attitude. It’s not that I don’t care. I’m very proud of him and I’m so excited for him, but I’m not overly-emotional about any of it – the fact that he took steps, or the fact that I didn’t get to see it first. It’s just all good. If I spend so much of my life focused on trying to control what I cannot, then the good stuff will pass me by.

So that’s me – living in the moment. And what beautiful moments they are.

Beautiful Day

Today was simply beautiful. There is no better word. The weather was beautiful, the setting was beautiful, and the mood was beautiful. Everything was…. Beautiful.

Our adoption agency held their annual Easter brunch at the local country club. It was a celebration of the adoptive families created through the agency’s work. As Ms Carolyn, one of the many lovely agency people involved in Malcolm’s adoption, put it, they do so many serious things, and today is truly about fun.

It was fricken adorable to see all the toddlers running around in their smocked dresses and John-John’s. The boys with the knee-high white dress socks and oxfords and peter-pan collars especially melted my heart. I can’t bring myself to dress Malcolm this way, but still, it’s freaking adorable on them!

Probably the simple most awesome thing about today was seeing couples we had connected with back when we were all still waiting for The Call. Now we all have sweet children in our arms and life just doesn’t seem to get any better. Three couples with three very different stories particularly stood out in my mind. Two of them, we had met at the parenting/adoption classes at the director’s house. One couple had just begun the process when we first met. They were in the midst of completing the 30-page application, and we were the seasoned pros (ha!) offering advice about how to make it through the wait period. He’s an engineer, just like Mike. They were so kind and soft-spoken. Four months ago, they were paired with their sweet baby girl with literally two hours notice. The baby was born the previous day, and The Call went something like “how fast can you get here?” Wow. And I thought we had to think fast with a week to pull it together.

The other couple we met through the classes had been waiting for longer than average (for our agency) when we met them last May – going on two years. No telling why. I believe it’s because God was preparing their hearts and hand-picking the perfect addition to their family, just like he did with us. Well, when I saw them pushing a stroller into the brunch, I almost burst with excitement. I was so happy they had been matched! Their little baby boy was only seven weeks old and oh-so-tiny! They got The Call the day after his birth also, but had the benefit (?) of him needing to stay in the NICU for a few more days, giving them a little more time to get everything together. He’s now healthy and growing beautifully!

The third couple, we met only three months ago. We shared a court date for finalization. Their little girl is younger than Malcolm by a couple weeks, but oh my, she’s tall! And bright blue eyes! We actually know some of the same people, and I always love making connections. So that’s pretty cool.

Is it weird that I can name all the kids of the couples I met today, but can’t, for the life of me, remember most of the parents names? Oh well. It’s about the kids anyway, right?

And that’s why we went. It’s about the kids. It’s about Malcolm. How awesome is it that he has this big group of friends who are just like him. Who know what it means to be adopted and to have an open relationship with their birthfamily. How awesome is it for these children to know that they are loved by so many people. No family is without issues and sadness, if course. One family we spoke with today shared that their birth mother had gotten into trouble and arrested just days before their next scheduled meeting. But that’s the beauty of adoption and this network we’re a part of – we all get it. Life is messy. Things don’t work out perfectly. But we all get it. We all understand just how messy it can be. Our birth family relationship is not without its issues. But we get to see just how beautiful it can be.

We plan to attend this event as long as Malcolm wants to. And for the next five years or so, I don’t think he will have an opinion, so it’s in the plans for the foreseeable future. And who knows, we my be attending this event with two beautiful adopted babies by then. (Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, right?). I can’t say enough good things about today. I hope it helps Malcolm grow up knowing he is loved beyond belief. And that adoption is simply beautiful.

My Valentines

My loves

And this handsome hunk too

8 Months

At just a little over 8 months, Malcolm went from chilled out and unmotivated, to a little mess monster that is on the go! In the past week or so, his new tricks include sitting up in bed on his own:

And crawling:

He’s growing and developing right on track. He’s got six teeth, but refuses any table food. I don’t mind. Baby food is so easy! And his fine motor skills are developing right on target. It’s pretty amazing to watch him grasp at objects and try to figure out how it works. He’s pulling up on things to stand. He loves to walk while we hold his hands. And most of all, he’s so happy and expressive! I love his smile and his laugh. And I Iove his sad face and when he furrows his eyebrows. And to see him play with the dogs is sweet. He is so intrigued by them and they are in love with him. It’s a ton of fun in our house right now 🙂