A Bicycle Built for Three

As I've written about before , Little Man has always been aware that there is something different about our family.  He naturally gravitates towards others who are Black, and we say goodnight to his birth mother's picture and his state of birth every night before bed.  Although we call his birth mother by her first name, he has called her "Mama" a few times; each time we reiterate that yes, she is one of his mamas and that he has two -- his birth mama and me.  In the back of my mind I realized his level of awareness was developing, but things have reached a new stage. Upcoming travel for Thanksgiving necessitated a trip to Target on a Saturday afternoon (yes, I know.  But at least it was pre-holiday chaos, right?).  He was feeling particularly flush in his new yellow hat, and he was soaking in compliments here and there as we moved through the store.  We had just finished grabbing what we needed and were headed to the checkout when, out of nowhere, he leane...

November is a lot.  It's National Adoption Month (which I've written about here ,  here and here ) as well as Military Family Appreciation Month.  Normally I'd try to find time to say something about those things, but this time around I'm just too tired.  The confluence of these two events comes at a time where I am muddling through at best; personally and professionally I'm in a fog that is slowly wearing me down.  While there are moments that Little Man is an absolute joy that cuts through the exhaustion, there are other moments where he is the sole cause.  Husband is often thanked for his service this time of year, and rightfully so.  I've been thanked as well, which up until now has been hard to reconcile; this year is the first time I've had to at least try to do so.  November has become this strange tipping point for me, except I don't know which way I'll end up sliding next. This particular phase in life -- for both me and Little Man -- ha...