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Toddler delights

As Theo hurtles towards three, the age where he ceases to be a toddler and magically becomes a preschooler, I want to slow the clock, keep tabs, document, get it all down before this charming, nerve-frying, adorable, chaotic, mind-boggling period comes to a close.

He’s two years and ten months, which makes him  to my mind: “almost three.” Here are some of the things I find charming.

Words:  The somersault of words, the jumble of phrases and the slow buildup of comprehension is fascinating and hilarious. Theo rose from a nap one day with “Good morning everyone! How are you?” Enroute to pick something up, I told him that we were going “somewhere.” Him: “Reaaally? … somewhere? Oh! Somewhere!!!” From our balcony, he shouts”Goodbye sweetheart!” to our neighbour’s mother. He runs up to older girls greeting them with an exuberant: “Hello little boy!” Of course he’s obsessed with body parts and functions but still, I remain charmed.

Chai? This chai? I like chai!

Imaginative play: I’m used to the machine obsession now but recently, Theo’s discovered small characters such as monsters, transformers and superheroes. We inherited a bucket from our friend, and he’ll happily immerse himself in play. The same goes for stuffies. Just as I was about to toss them all out, he started naming, playing, and sleeping with a small menagerie. He just added a giraffe puppet to his entourage who he hangs out on the front balcony where Giraffe eats bugs and seeds or chats with the neighbours.

Immersed.

Hanging with friends: At a visit to his little friend Anna’s house, Theo was greeted by a small Shepard who asked if he’d like to “Come to her village.” Guaranteed Theo had no idea what Anna was talking about but he took her hand, grabbed a “staff” and followed her lead. He actively requests meeting up with other children even when the most recent visit was a disaster (thank God for short memories!).

Riding on the front walk.

Sociablility: Toddlers aren’t terribly concerned with public appearances. Theo launches headlong into most social situations with unbridled enthusiasm. He’s a full-blown participator and while he can go overboard (what you didn’t want to be knocked over?). He also has a way of entering a room. The other day, when met with a room full of adult strangers, he looked at everyone and roared at the top of his lungs once and then again for good measure causing everyone to burst into laughter.

Sense of compassion: Toddlers can sense sadness perhaps because they are so volatile themselves. Theo is quick to ask a small child what’s wrong, pat a crying child on the back, or comfort a, eh hem, parent, who looks beaten down. A kiss, a hug, a what’s wrong Mama? All in a day’s work for sympathetic toddlers!

Simple things: Structured activities are overrated at this age. It’s often the little things that enchant and delight like riding the bus for no reason at all, a visit to the duck pond, a pile of dirt; a hose and a lawn, a bike ride down the sidewalk, a bubbling water fountain, a caterpillar amid the pine trees; a run up the slide, a barefoot squish in the grass in the pouring rain.

The simple things

Toddler clothes: I enjoy deal-hunting for Theo. It fulfills my desire to poke around in interesting little stores. As a result, I have stacks of hand-me-downs, second-hand and fire sale items that are super fun and cheap. I have a lineup of next-size-up shoes and shorts galore.  I often pick up steals at thrift stores for friends like little converse high tops for my friend’s son ($3).

What delights you about your toddler?

Bikes are a winner!

Bike love.

Gender lines seem so clear sometimes.

Nuff said.

And sometimes, they don’t.

Dress up.

Mother’s Day can be bittersweet.

Little things can turn grey skies blue.

Popsicle season is open!

Sometimes a painting says it all.

Us.

Not to be all gender stereotypish but Theo sure has some capital B is for Boy traits. He’s obsessed with vehicles from trucks to trains, loves sticks, stones and water, enjoys physical play especially if it involves swords or wrestling, and when he rides, he repeatedly says that he “wants blood.”  His favorite show is Mighty Machines, and he can recite the book Machines at Work verbatim. He also looks great in a dress and is partial to lipgloss … but hey, that’s another post.

Here’s a little photographic evidence of his “boyishness” (Click the first photo for a slide show).

Is you son boyish or girlish? How about your daughter? Do you think it’s all a load of rubbish?

I see you

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I wrote this essay for the May issue of Today’s Parent Magazine (under a pen name) about the bittersweetness of Mother’s Day for me as an adoptive mother.

“Mother’s Day brings to mind fresh flowers, blueberry pancakes and homemade cards. It’s a day to be spoiled and fêted by family. But for me, an adoptive mother, it’s never as simple as the Hallmark holiday it’s touted to be.

Don’t get me wrong: I feel deep joy in my role as mom to my two-and-a-half-year-old son, and I marvel at his giddy joie de vivre. But the way I arrived at motherhood will always be bittersweet. In order for me to become a mom, another mother had to lose a child.”

Read the rest at Today’s Parent

The latest Open Adoption Roundtable  posed the question: “How do you feel after a visit?” The question is aimed at birthparents, adoptive parents and adoptees. I imagine the answer varies radically depending on where you sit in the adoption equation.

Before we adopted I was very pro open adoption. I knew it was best for our son to know his roots and also felt closed adoption was cruel to birthparents. I failed to factor in how our relationship would unfold or how I would feel over time. Open adoption is hard emotional work, something I didn’t fully realize until I became an active participant. We’ve had regular in-person visits with Theo’s birthfamily since he was born. In earlier visits, it was common for one of us to break down under the sheer unspoken weight of what was going on. Fast forward almost three years, and our visits have lightened considerably. We now leave Theo with his birthparents and go out for brunch returning later to catch up.

But on to the question at hand:

How do I feel after a visit from Theo’s birthparents? I feel euphoric. I feel extreme joy. I feel relieved. Why? Not because “it’s over” but because inevitably, it went really well. Theo knows his birthparents better each time he sees them as do I. I get to see them grow up and make plans for their future.  I like them as people. I want to hear about their lives and their opinions. I hang onto every word. I want to know everything. I find myself starting at their features and mannersims looking for clues. I feel privileged and grateful that we get to unabashedly share Theo amazingness. As another adoptive parent pointed out, birthparents may be the only people as enamoured with our child as we are!

Now ask me how I feel before a visit. Anxious isn’t a big enough word. ANXIOUS is more like it. The prospect of a visit brings up all my deepest fears around adoption. In an attempt to manage them, I obsessively clean the house: scouring, sorting, rearranging and fretting. I worry that the house will be a disaster. Then I worry that it will be too clean. I worry that Theo’s room won’t be cute enough. I worry that the fridge is too empty or too full. I worry that Theo will be a toddlery disaster, and we’ll look like bad parents. I worry that if Theo is in fine form, we’ll look redundant. I worry that when his birthparents see him, they’ll regret placing him for adoption or feel guilty that they did. I worry and worry and worry … until they arrive, and then all my fears vanish.

The more visits we have, the better I feel, and I believe the feeling is mutual.

He’s familiar with lattes (let’s just leave it at that).

Dipping.

He can name an impressive number of local marine-life: sharks, stingrays, sea turtles, jelly fish, belugas, dolphins, and all kinds of fish thanks to the Vancouver Aquarium.

Sea turtle!

He eats sushi.

Miso soup is a good place to start.

His friends represent a range of ethnicities.

He spent his first year-and-half  in a muddy buddy.

He experiences planet confusion and may think the sun is actually the moon.

He owns an umbrella, and rubber boots are his most-worn footwear.

He makes frequent requests to “throw rocks in the ocean.”

Whoa!

He takes puddle splashing to a whole new level.

He has no idea what mitts are for.

He’s seen a Dragon Dance.

Gung Hey Fat Choy

He’s been brainwashed by his Dad into thinking the Canucks had a chance at The Cup.

Go Canucks Go!

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