Two Years.

It's been two years since Carter walked through that little airport to meet all of his family and friends.  Two years, and sometimes when I kiss his head, I close my eyes and try to remember the first time.  He was scared and so unsure.  His eyes, wide with wonder.  "Who are these people? What is going on?" he had to be thinking.

Today, right now, he's on his bed playing with his trains.  I can hear him quietly chanting 'choo-choo, choo-choo'.

In so many ways, I tell myself that he is not the child we met in October of 2011.  He is a changed boy.

And then I watch a video from the orphanage, and I see Carter when I watch Anton.  His mannerisms.  His voice.  His facial expressions.  The gentleness, the quietness in his voice, the curiosity - I thought it was Anton, but it's all Carter.

He's changed, but he's always been Anton.

It makes me wonder, how much time have I spent loving Carter without helping to heal the wounds of Anton?

When I look at Carter, I don't see a sad, wounded little boy.  He is full of life and spunk and sassiness.  But I wonder what is underneath all of that.  I wonder what he remembers, and what he knows.  How much does he understand?

Today, he understands a lot.  Far more than we give him credit for.  He is smart.  Very smart.

If Carter is smart, so was Anton.  And if Carter understands, so did Anton.

That hurts my heart a little bit.  He doesn't understand, I would say.  And it made me feel better about pulling him from the only bed and people and language that he had ever known.

Gator has always been here.  Look at my baby wearing a little onesie.  Heart: melted.

He doesn't understand.  He can't possibly understand. - these were my cushiony, soft, fluffy excuses that I would fall back on when I had made a mistake.  I would lose my cool and get angry and raise my voice.  But it was okay, because he didn't understand.  There's no way he can understand all this.

But he did.  He does.

At two years home, we're learning things about Carter that we thought we knew.  We didn't know.  We still don't know.  And I suppose that's just parenthood.  We think we have this little mysterious gift all figured out.  And then we realize we don't.  We're plunged into a sea of uncertainty and newness, until we start to figure things out again.  And again, we're reminded of how little we know of this child and this life.

But it pushes us to learn and dig and grow our own selves.  In the digging and wondering, we find new motivation and the oomph that we need to press on and keep going.  Promising ourselves that we'll find our sea legs eventually, and it will be okay.

Two years home, and we're in a good place.  We're in a groove.  Carter is communicating and expressing himself more than ever.  It's very natural.  It's very normal.  And it feels so very right.  I can only hope that from here on out, it's all good stuff.  We'll struggle.  We'll laugh.  A lot.  We'll cry.  We'll  wonder.  We'll question.  And we'll love and be loved, oh so much.

Two years - and it's all been good.

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Because I can't approach an adoption milestone without making a video (I have a disorder, maybe), watch this.



Here's a link for our video from our homecoming back on November 15, 2011.  And here's the link for our one year metcha day video.  Both extra special and full of adorableness.

But the first one?  From our homecoming?  I haven't watched it in almost 2 years.  I can count on one hand the number of times I've seen it.  I don't listen to the song, either.  It comes on the radio and I change it.

Because the more I listen to something, or the more I watch something, the less special it becomes.

{Like when a song first hits the radio, and you just can't get enough of it?  Your heart sings it at all hours of the day and night.  And then a few months later, you hear it as you're pulling into the gas station, and you roll your eyes like 'this song...again?!'}

Ten years from now, when our family is snuggled up with blankets and popcorn on the couch, and we're watching family videos, I want to be able to watch our homecoming video and feel every single emotion that I felt when I made it.

So for now, I avoid it at all costs.  Ten years from now, I'll let you know how that worked :)

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I remember just coming home with this little gift, and wondering how it would feel to be his mommy for two whole years.  And now I know.  It's good.

One Thing I Know For Sure: Two whole years, little boy.  It just keeps getting better & better.