Three days since we tried potty training

I wonder if anyone becomes the sort of parent they imagine they will be. I have been around kids a lot before becoming a mum, I know it's not the same as having the ultimate responsibility, but I had lived a close quarters with family & friends and their kids so felt quite confident in my parenting abilities.

It has come as a surprise to me how much I can question what I'm doing, look to others to see what they're doing and generally get my knickers in a twist. I worry a lot, when you're tantruming publicly for example, that people will think I'm a rubbish mum, that you're out of control or not happy or something. I'm amazed at how much I care what others think. I'm not sure if this would have happened anyway or if it has come as a byproduct of adoption and all the responsibilities that come with that. I don't think it's 100% responsible, but I do reckon it plays a part because it feels like we have extra pressure to make sure you're ok as a person in the long run, given your family background. It makes me realise how utterly lucky we were to get you so young. Already, now you're two, I can see how much bigger a transition it would have been for you if you were that bit older.

So the last three days we have been somewhat prisoner in the house as we decided to have a go at potty training, the hard way ie nappies off and that's it, no big trips out until the potty is being used regularly. Three days in I have cracked and I think perhaps you're not quite ready. You ticked all the boxes that the book indicated, but you pee and poop freely with no conception of the potty and its function, other than a funny chair I sit you on now and then. Here's a case in point, where I thought I'd be all relaxed and organic, and then I find myself following the instructions of some woman who thinks that kids need Draconian regimes to keep them in control (she has no kids). Anyway, we'll relax a little and let you warm to it in your own time. If only because there is only so much time I care to spend on my knees picking up poops and waving them bye-bye down the loo, while you shout for juice or strawberries or something. Never thought I'd be so relieved to put a nappy back on you...

Yesterday you counted to ten, perfectly. You have also started forming slightly sophisticated sentences – you were saying something was funny and doing your fake forced laugh; very cute. You have a mirror face that you pull. You still have an annoying tendency to toss your food onto the floor (more knee time for me). You are starting to be able to drink from a glass without drowning. You love throwing water over yourself with a cup when in the bath. We wake up to a naked you in the cot, proudly waving your pyjamas and nappy around at us. You are having super long naps, 3 hours. And when I'm in the playground with you, I feel very proud that you're mine.

One year and three days since we became a family

We've got something in common, your birth mother and I – we both lost our fathers at a relatively young age. That may not seem very significant, but it was a major event in both our lives; one that sent us both a little off the edge, though it hit D in a far more destructive way.

I mention it because maybe it will help me explain to you one day why D was unable to look after you, because I will be able to, from the heart, know how such a thing could have such drastic effects. There but for the grace of god... as they say. It allows me to feel some sort of empathy with her, though I didn't fall off life in the same way, it is probably the single biggest thing to affect me in my life so far. I'm not sure I'd be same person had my dad not died prematurely ad dramatically, that is both in good and bad ways.

Sometimes I miss my dad so much it properly aches. I imagine I can be granted one more visit with him, an hour or an evening in his company. I could ask all the questions I have, make sure he loved me and have a laugh, get him to do the silly things he did to make me laugh. I will tell you all about him when the time comes, I look forward to it. I'm sorry you've been deprived him as your grandpa.

I suppose it also means that, to a certain extent, I will understand your loss of birth parents. Though I know it will cut me inside when you express interest or grief over your birth parents, I hope I will be able to put that aside in order to help you deal with your feelings. In that way, we can share an experience perhaps. Anyway, we're not there yet so I'll park worrying about that. Plenty other stuff to fret about in meantime.

Your current favourite things are Where the Wild Things Are animation, trains, music & dancing still, me coming home from work and ringing next door's doorbell.

By the way, the photo below is him, my dad; he's the one at the front. He ran. Funny that I started running too. It was taken not long after he moved to the States and not long before he died.

Yesterday you were two years old

You turned two yesterday but we had a party for you on Sunday. Lots of pals came, lots of your little pals came, there were balloons, bubbles and a big blue Cookie Monster cake that was probably like giving you all uncut speed... And you danced. Oh how you danced, visions of waiting outside nightclubs for you flashed in our minds.

You seemed aware that it was some sort of special occasion; repeatedly saying "happy cake" was one hint. When we opened your presents yesterday, which were plentiful and lovely, you spent a half hourtwlling me to "open it" as you handed me gift upon gift.

For us, it has been a very special few days. A year since first setting eyes on you, since becoming a family, since falling head over heels in love with you. On your birthday last year however, we were amongst strangers that knew you better than we did. At that party, all I wanted to do was take you away & have you all to myself. I remember being relieved when you needed a nap so I could steal you away for a while. So this year was extra special as our first as a proper family. Yesterday, Pa took you to wave Granny off on train then to meet me for lunch. It was great seeing you on a work day, a bit of mum time.

So, happy birthday darling Louse, may there be many many more happy cake days.

It is exactly one year tomorrow since we first met you

This time one year ago, we were a pair of anxious terrified wrecks, about to meet you for the first time.

I can't believe a year has gone by. But I also can't believe that you were ever not here. I'm not often allowed to say this out loud, but it makes me desperately sad that you are not biologically mine, that I did not give birth to you and therefore know you from day one. We are not perfect, Pa and me, far from it, but we adore you unconditionally and unreservedly, you are my proudest moment and my greatest achievement. One year on, I think you're settled and I think you're happy. And crucially, I don't think you remember life before us, we are Ma & Pa, we are who you rely on un every way.

We saw foster folks, P & A, last weekend, for C's 8th birthday at the ice rink. It tool me a ridiculous amount of time to get you ready, to decide what to dress you in. I wanted you to look cute and lovely, but I also know that my version of that is different to theirs. For some reason I want their approval, I want them to think what great parents we are and how brilliantly you're doing with us. I feel very anxious in their company despite them being totally down to earth people. I'm desperate not to come over as too middle class, and to be smiley & relaxed, when inside I'm annoyed that they can tell stories about when you were 3 months old and how you did this or that from when you were tiny. I want that history with you. If I'm honest, it makes me jealous if I see you run to them, I want them to see that it's us you run to now.

All of that is obviously counter to the rational thoughts that you run to them cos they're open & welcome you, that maybe you do remember them somehow but it doesn't change how you feel about us, and that I am grateful to them for having been such great fosterers to you. I know it's still painful for them, especially A. We didn't invite them to your birthday party this weekend as, much as we want you to know who they are one day, we now need to step back from all things adoption and just be us. I felt bad, but even E, your social worker, confirmed that we should try to see them on non significant dates, that birthdays were for friends & family. Unfortunately, their presence will always bring adoption to the fore and for the time being we are enjoying that it can slip into the background.

Happy year one darling, you are the loveliest Louse I could have ever hoped for.

Three weeks since I last wrote

I have been intending to write almost every night since last time, but things keep getting in the way, like tiredness or telly or cleaning or having to work on the photos from someone's wedding. Time is so tight these days, what with looking after you Gremlin, working and training for my half marathon, it's hard to find spare time. Shame, as there is so much to write about really, both in terms of me and how I'm doing on my parenting lark and you & your developments, which are many.

Your current favourite things are playing with water, walking, Peppa Pig, the Where the Wild Things Are DVD which sort of scares you and fascinates you at the same time – you actually went behind the couch to watch it this morning, so cute. You like trying on clothes, you like being naked, you like kissing T next door, you like throwing your dummy out the cot as you know it means we'll come up to retrieve it, and you also quite like throwing food / spoons / bowls on the floor... yep, still an issue.

You are getting quite cheeky and ever more vocal. You repeat things and are starting to make sentences, making requests and stating preferences which is great. Still, there are the tantrums... Yesterday trying to get you back into the buggy as the heavens opened was a challenge, I ended up laughing so ridiculous was it. I have had to have a firm hand a few times, it's hard, as the book suggests, to show nothing at all.

I spent a lot of yesterday thinking that I must be a crap parent because I cannot at all times stay completely calm and in control of situations. As I write that I can see how silly it is to expect someone to be that in control, but something happens when one becomes a parent, something shifts in one's view of oneself and you lose confidence. Nearly all the parents I know, the mums especially, are filled with self doubt and regularly think they are crap parents. And I think, oh you're fine, the kid is fine. But when it comes to me... it's a strong emotion and gives way to guilt that you're not providing the best ever, most balanced and supportive environment to be a truly well adjusted grown up. I am desperate not to pass on my baggage to you, only to pass on the good bits, but then I see little glimpses into the future and I wonder if you have the same wild card as D, birth mother. So many questions...

You are however, extremely mummy centric at the moment. Pa gets hugs and stuff, but if you don't see me in the morning you cry, and I can calm you down with a cuddle when you are upset and go beyond consolation. Luckily Pa does not take it too personally. It seems the mother-child bond is indeed strong as Pa spends just as much time with you, if not more as he has three uninterrupted days with you each week. I suppose I like it if I'm honest, reassures me that I'm not messing up totally. It's not that I think we are messing up, it's just that we are so aware of shaping and forming you, that it's hard to remain sure all the time that you're doing ok. The current tantrums make me worry, but I don't suppose it's any different to any other toddler.

Anyway, you are brilliant and I love being your Ma. It's your birthday soon and we've organised a little party. We'll get your little mates and some music & balloons, your first disco.