Another instance where I'm not sure what I'm doing.

(I started this post days ago. Ever think time is passing slowly? Start a blog. You won't believe how fast time flies between posts ;))

We had a perfectly lovely day. Until 630pm. Before that, I ran a 5k here in town, in the most perfect weather. After my race, we had my mom, my sister, my niece and nephew, and my mother-in-law over for a terrific cook out, also in perfect weather. The macaroni salad was just right, the burgers were perfect, and the sangria was wonderful.

And then everyone left, and Jeb had the meltdown of his life. He raged until he was hoarse. It was agony for all of us.

He's been going through something in the last few weeks. When he was 8 months old, I rhetorically asked a friend "what happened to my delightful 7 month old?" She said -- "it's a developmental bitch fest". I thought it was the most brilliant phrase I'd ever heard. Sometimes these small children are growing/learning/developing so freaking fast they can't even handle it. So, Jeb may be going through a developmental bitchfest right now, or it may be the (difficult for all of us) transition into daycare, or like many other times I may never know what it is and we'll just live through it.

In any case, this child is having MAJOR separation issues. He used to be okay with me going to work in the evenings, now he wails for an hour. He is glued to my side when I am home. He's always been a clingy kind of kid, but this is extreme.

I don't mind him needing me more at times, I just hate not knowing what is going on. Or what he needs specifically. Or where to draw the line between being sensitive to what he's processing, and coddling. Two days a week, I have to tell him sorry, baby, you have to go to daycare today even though you don't want to. It's hard. For everyone.

That cliche about kids needing to come with hand books? So. True. I feel like I am winging it most of the time, and then I worry that Jeb will pick up on the fact that I am winging it and that will make him feel insecure. Meta-anxiety. Awesome.

I won a book!

I was the winner of a giveaway! I won Sally Bacchetta's (Adoptive Parent) book, What I Want My Adopted Child to Know.

First, doesn't it just feel so good to win something? ;)

Second, WOW. It's terrific. At 106 pages, it's not long, but it is packed. In fact, I'm only on page 32, because I am pacing myself. I have no doubt I could read it in one evening, because when this subject matter is close to home, you drink in every word and can't get enough. I am limiting myself to 1 chapter per night, and I've even already re-read some. Every paragraph is so rich, and though it's hard to put it down, I know I want to process it slowly. I want to chew on each chapter, and learn and reflect as much as possible. I have no doubt I will read it many times before it stops teaching me.

Some parts are hard to read, I'll be honest. I've even had a few knee-jerk reactions that have left me feeling defensive. I'm far enough into my birthmotherhood, though, to look for the truth in those moments. And it is always there. One thing I hate about adoption in general is that each member of the triad is constantly challenged, and obligated, to accept/learn from the parts that are yucky. There are always more vegetables to eat.

I love the concept of the book. I love the gift that it gives adoptees. I love the window it gives me into the other side of this whole thing. It make me wonder, even more, what my birth son needs to hear from me. I feel silly saying it, but I had a better grip on what he needed from me when he was much younger. It was so simple then: I'm your birth mother. You grew in my belly. I chose your mommy and daddy because I wasn't ready or able to be a mommy. I loved you then and I love you now. I will always be a part of your life to help you understand. Um, now I'm to the last part and I'm not sure I even know what he needs in order to help him understand. I think I understand it less than I used to. This is not regret, it's part of birth parenting, I think. Just like how as a parent I don't have all the answers, as a birth parent I don't either. Colin and I have had a few of the conversations you fantasize about in the early years. I've told him my version, my side. I've offered a listening ear countless times, and in true 'tween boy fashion, he doesn't tend to pour his heart out to me. I've written him letters, and tried to give opportunities to talk about the Tough Stuff, but I get the feeling that he's uncomfortable being put on the spot. (Shocking! Right?) My hope is that even though he's been quiet when I've offered to listen, the message is still getting across. That he feels comforted knowing I care enough to offer. Repeatedly. That I'm always available. I email him regularly, and he responds sometimes, but not always. I usually tell him about random things that have made me think of him throughout my days, and I hope that he gets the sense that he is important to me and certainly on my mind. Is it enough?

Adoption professionals always talk about how even if an adoptee is quiet, don't assume they don't have questions, or want to talk about stuff. I totally get that, but then how do I know what to bring up? I don't want to inundate this kid with heavy stuff if he happens to be in the middle of some other adolescent struggle totally not related to adoption. I know at his age, what's on his mind most can change week to week. In some sense, I want to follow his lead. But he may not be able to take the lead. How do I handle this? I should ask his mom. She'll know much better where he is with everything. She'll know whether or not he needs support on this front right now or not. Moms always know :)

Adoption is a journey. Adoption is a journey. Adoption is a journey.

30

Well, it's the 6th. I'm 30.

I'm kind of struggling with it. I guess the notion of closing the chapter of My Twenties is really sad for me.

I loved my 20s. I don't have 1 single regret. I got an education and established a career, fell in love, moved out of state for 5 years and then came back 'home', started a family, and had a complete blast all throughout. The last 10 years have been so great, I want more of them.

I know my 30s can and will be awesome too, but I'm sad about letting go of being Very Young.

I wish time would slow down a little. I'm suddenly very aware of the fact that this is a one-way street. Everything is going way too fast.

When I start getting panicky, I try to focus on the feeling of fulfillment. My 20s were absolutely fulfilling. My 30s (and the rest of my life) will be fulfilling as well. My 30s will likely be quieter, or at least loud in a different way, like less parties and more babies :) And I imagine that they will be very family-centric. It sounds fabulous, and very fulfilling.

Deep breath. There's no changing it anyway, I'm 30. So, I'd better deal.

An overnight date in the city with the Husband on Monday will certainly help ;)