This is a post that should have happened two months ago, but with all the changes that come from major life events, this writing had to be postponed. In July of this year, 2021, I received a call from Social Services asking if I was open to taking a sibling placement. Two days later, I was making daily trips out of town to visit an infant boy in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit of a hospital in that city. Four days after that, the hospital staff was helping me secure a 4.7 pound human into the back seat of my SUV. Everything that has followed has been an absolute blur.

I’ve adjusted finally, now three months later, to the reduced sleep and added strain on our daily routines and can finally breathe long enough to compose a blog post, both introducing our newest addition to all of you and welcoming him to our family, formally memorializing what a blessing this child has been to us.

His name is Tyler and he is the biological brother of my twins, Thomas and Cole. And, hopefully soon, likely to be a permanent member of our household. He is small but his impact on our lives and the hearts of each member of my family has been anything but. It has not been without its challenges, however, since it is still just me raising, now, three boys as my own, but, also, in watching as the older two make room for their baby brother, learn to become a little more self-sufficient, and struggle to share the attention from their dad, now spread notably thinner. If there has been anything I’ve learned from this, it is how proud I am of the boys they have become. Their resilience is astounding.

As for Tyler, he has amassed an impressive total of 10.5 pounds of sheer formula consuming fury, and has a set of lungs that would rival an Antifa rally. Thankfully, he chooses to reserve them for the times he senses I’ve drifted into R.E.M. sleep. He has begun to discover that he can alter the tone and pitch of his voice for varying effect and has a smile that somehow makes the difficult parts feel, not only worthwhile, but somehow rewarding. I think I’m being played.

He sleeps best if he can have a few moments of squirmy tummy-time before settling into a shape on his bed he deems acceptable. Ultimately, he would prefer to sleep on his belly with his head against my chest. He often gets his way. He is most amused when playfully refusing to draw from his bottle, rejecting the nipple with his tongue, smiling ear-to-ear watching me struggle to move the bottle back into position for him. Monday night I got what could be considered an audible laugh from him as I desperately attempted to entice him to latch by sliding the nipple back and forth between his gums while saying in a Kermit voice, “C’mon buddy. Help me out, I’m missing the game.”

He cares very little for live sports, alone time, or me enjoying…well…anything in peace.

Very soon, I expect that we will be moving to the next stages in the process of adoption, but this process is nothing if not unpredictable. I’ll keep you posted. As always, I do my best to avoid typos and glaring grammatical errors, but, lately, just getting words on the page has been quite the challenge, so I apologize in advance for any grammatical oversights on my part.

Lastly, I’d like to take a moment to acknowledge and thank all the people who have cooked us meals, given us clothing and a variety of other midnight tripping hazards, and provided support during this transitional time. To my boys, I am your biggest fan. I see greatness in each one of you. Thank you for being patient with me. And, of course, to my mother and my sister, without whom none of this would even be possible.

Until next time…