A Bicycle Built for Three

November once again means National Adoption Month -- I've amassed a collection of posts about that at this point ( 2023 , 2022 , 2021 ,  2020 , and 2019 ).  I wasn't really sure what I thought about it this year, but just looking back on all of my previous posts is quite eye-opening.  It's not just about what I've learned, but more the fact that I've had reason to even contemplate this month for so many years.  While I certainly don't want to center my relationship with Little Man on the fact that he's adopted, it's impossible to dismiss every time he makes an observation about skin color or talks about his biological family.  As he gets older and engages more with people around him I can often see unasked questions in their eyes.  I wonder if his mannerisms were imprinted on him before he ever existed or if one day there will be a call or knock at the door from a long-lost connection to his history. And then there was today...while watching the Chiefs g...

Little Man and I attended a birthday party at an indoor play place together last weekend -- Husband was away at drill.  He was happily climbing a rope ladder when he slipped and tumbled to the ground; undaunted, he bounced right up and went off to find a new adventure to chase.  However, he started holding one of his arms to his chest and relied almost solely on his other arm.  At first he claimed his elbow itched and would use the arm if he really needed to, but as the party and afternoon progressed so did his resistance.  He wouldn't let me touch or examine it, and when asked to move it he would move the good arm only.  Based on my first-time parent level of alarm and some logical advice from my physical therapist sister, we jumped in the car and attempted to find an open urgent care. After leaving two sites that were either closed or full, third time was the charm.  The clinic employees were all very kind and we were seen almost immediately.  An ini...

Little Man asked me to put him to bed a few nights ago.  This was quite unusual -- other than drill weekends, Husband has put him to bed every night since returning from his deployment.  Some nights it's just assumed, other nights we ask.  Either way, Little Man is fine saying good night to me as he goes into his room.  That night, though, was different.  While there's no way to know for sure, I'm guessing I know why. This is a hard time of year for teachers.  Along with the excitement of Halloween, we face the end of first quarter and parent-teacher conferences.  The program where I teach operates a bit differently, and as a result this year I had nearly fifty conferences to hold over the course of two weeks.  While I did several through email, a majority were either in-person or on Zoom.  To make that all work I had to spend several long days at school and ended up missing gymnastics classes, music classes, and dinners.  The first nigh...