Nearing 3 Years, One Month and Two and a Half Weeks

I am having a casual conversation with my beautiful eldest son at the table.  He is sitting on my lap.  We talk about nearing the day when he will have been with us longer than he was in Ethiopia (can you believe that day has not yet passed!).  In this very casual conversation, he is barely paying attention to me and at some point mentions that he will go live with another family next and stay with them for a while because we are so boring and he wants to play with more toys.  Whoa.  I don't care about the boring part or the toys.  I think boring is just fine and he has more toys than I did.  But there is something more to his thinking that he can just go and be with another family.  Before I get the oh, it's so normal for kids to have this magical thinking and everyone wished they had another family at some point, let me say that his words seem to perfectly match his reality.  Why wouldn't he get another family?  He has had so much change already.  Unfortunately his words seem to match the level of our attachment, too.  I love my son fiercely and I know he cares about me, but he does not feel he needs me at a primal level.  I am his provider, but I am not irreplaceable.  I want to be, but I am not.  Not all the way, at least. 

I can feel the difference in attachment between my children in a way that hurts.  My youngest (adopted at 8 mo) craves me and needs me in such a marrow-deep way.  His body is relaxed and soothed by proximity to mine.  My presence brings him comfort.  I can de-escalate whatever problem comes his way.  Not the same with my oldest.  Requests for nearness or affection are usually brought on more by competition with the youngest rather than real felt need.  He feels he needs to control or manipulate everything around him and thus take care of himself.  This saddens me so much.

I need to go back to my attachment books (yet again) and try to figure out more ways to connect to my big guy.  He is still so young.  He thinks he can be independent, but he does not have to be.  There is more I can give him, if only he will let me.  I don't know how to convince him that he needs me.  As I've been recuperating from surgery, Boo has come in to check on me several times.  He needs that connection with me.  He misses me when I am not around.  Scootle hasn't done that really.  But I need him.  I have become attached to his smile, his beautiful eyes, his presence.  I miss him when he is not around.

In a few days, Scootle will finally have lived with us longer than he lived in Ethiopia.  Boo has already lived that 4 times.  Isn't that crazy?  Brothers, home at the same time, but living such a different story.  It is incredible, really, to think that we know so little about such a huge period of Scootle's life.  We have come such a long way.  SUCH a long way.  But I still have a lot of hopes for our attachment as a family.  I hope that one day, that soft spot where my shoulder and neck meet can be a spot where he can bury his head, weep and find real comfort, find home and it be here, with us, not with just any family.

I Think I Can Do Three

Boo-boo turned THREE yesterday.  Another family milestone.  He has been with us twice as long as he was in Ethiopia.  Even though I have two boys of different ages, I am only now getting to repeat an age - another reminder of the uniqueness (you can substitute challenge) of adoptive families.  Scootle was three when we brought him home.  Up until now, every age we experienced was brand new - 8 mo, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.  Now, we are back at three!  I have already survived one three year old.  I think I can do this.  The realization brought me such relief!  Parents of single biological children experience every age brand-new, but with adoption, there are so many other issues, issues that have been very present in our boys, that just feeling capable of handling the developmental needs of a three year old does wonders for my esteem as a parent.
My little guy is three.  Just today I've heard these two contradicting phrases a lot: "I do it by myself," and "mommy hold you" (meaning 'mommy hold ME').  It is a cute and mind-boggling stage.   Boo's turning three has really helped us have a lot more compassion for Scootle.  When HE was three, we expected a lot more out of him.  We didn't know that three year olds were still babies in so many ways.  We are also floored when we think of all the time Scootle had in Ethiopia before coming into our family.  He was a month older than Boo is now!  My respect and admiration for Scootle has grown in these last few months.  I am trying to give him more of the mothering that I was not able/aware enough to give him when he first came to us.  I made a lot of mistakes.  But I've turned a corner from feeling guilty about it and am trying to do my best now.  The guilt was not helpful at all. 

Our family life has been sweet lately.  We went on a camping trip for spring break.  Being together, just the 4 of us, 24/7, away from home and all distractions was so good.  Our bonds were deepened.  It was not an easy week, but we were able to have fun experiences to balance out all of the coaching we found ourselves doing.  So far, being home has been easier than before.  The time and effort is paying off. 

Three.  Big sigh.  Big inward smile.  I can do this.

On Scootle-Doot

 

Scootle-Doot was having trouble sleeping tonight so I went to scratch his back.  He fell asleep quickly and I stayed, thinking about him.  It is so easy for us to get frustrated with our very "spirited" child.  He is loud, he asks A LOT of questions which lead only to more questions, he is persistent, he notices EVERYTHING, he can throw one hell of a tantrum and he wants things his way always.  I am very aware that this is all very typical of 4 year olds.  Scootle just seems to do it with an art.  And, he is OUR 4 year old, our joy, our challenge (on many days).  But as I sat beside this beautiful sleeping boy, I though about the fact that he is 4.  Only 4.  He has had so many different living situations, has adapted so well.  He has accepted life as it has come at him.  And life surely has come at him hard.  Where Boo-boo has now lived with us for more than half of his life, Scootle will be with us another year before that is so.  More than half of his life were lived in a reality we know very little about and yet here he is, part of our family.  Who wouldn't tantrum or question or resist?   

He dictated a very sweet mother's day message to me and chose a lovely card with flowers on it.  Even though what is written here betrays his much better control of the English language, his sentiments are sweet and it is funny to see how his mind works:  It said:

Dear Mommy,


Happy Birthday.  I love mommy - giving us a hug and you bring us back.  You get and I love you and you love me back and you bring me to park.  I love you so much.


"Scootle-Doot"

I'd like to write him back:

Dear Scootle,

I love you so dearly.  I love how you are able to get lost in play for hours.  Your imaginary conversations, your songs, your drawings, your pretend classroom - you in your zone is a wonder to see. 

Just today, you asked me, "Mommy, why you have two boys and not one boy and one girl?"  Oh, my sweet, how that question agonized me when I got your referral.  But the thought of not having you or your brother, my two boys, pierces me.  I am very comfortable on this mother's day to be a mother to two boys.  It has become part of me.

My two boys

I love the mother's day card you gave me, because you remember the little things we do like hugging and going to the park.  Little things, when they are with you, really are that much more special.  Forgive me for not remembering more often how important the little things are.


You have a beautiful soul, my son, and you are so open to the world, so inquisitive.  I hope that my impatience and frustrations don't take away that beauty.  Keep asking questions, I will try to answer.  Keep asking me to pick you up when it is not convenient for me, I probably need the affection, too.  Keep fighting for what you want, it is a good character.  Keep learning at breathtaking speed, the world is out there for you to know.  Keep calling out when you can't sleep, so I can come and scratch your back.

I love you so, my beautiful child.

Mommy 

Epic Tantrum

So, today's speech therapy session started something like this:

At the sink, the water is running. 

Therapist:  "Boo-boo, turn the water on."

Boo-boo:  "On, pease."

Therapist:  "Fill the cup up.  Full."

Boo-boo:  "Full."

Therapist:  "Pour the water out."

Boo-boo:  "Empty."

Laugh, giggle, joy, full, empty, full, empty, repeat.  Turn the water on, turn the water off.  Dry off the cups and return to the therapist's office.


Therapist:  "Can you put the cow in this bowl and the duck in this one?"

Boo-boo:  "Moo, duck."

Laugh, squeal, repeat with other objects.  Last object - a firetruck, with wheels.  (My boys are nutso about cars and trucks.  Boo-boo loves anything with wheels.)

Therapist:  "Ok, Boo-boo, we are going to read a book.  Can you put the firetruck in the bucket?"

Boo-boo shakes head no.

Therapist:  "Boo-boo.  It's my turn to get the firetruck." 

Boo-boo:  YELL!

Therapist:  "My turn." 

Boo-boo:  Throws off one of his cochlear implant processors.

Therapist:  "No.  Do not throw."

Boo-boo:  YEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLL!!!!  Throws off second processor.

Therapist and me:  Furiously shaking our heads no since he cannot hear at this point. 

Boo-boo:   Throws firetruck across the room and grabs for ears to throw off processors (which he is no longer wearing). 

I give him my hand to try to calm him - SCRATCH, PINCH!!  YELL!!

At this point, the yelling is constant and LOUD.  Boo's face is purple.  Fierce tears are streaming.  The therapist suggests we try time out.  I concede.  She puts him in a small chair.  He is kicking, screaming, scratching and trying to get away.  At this point, I see fear in his eyes.  I take him in my arms.

Scratch, hit, pintch, pull hair, pull earrings, almost break necklace.  Scream, cry, yell bloody murder.

We try all types of tactics.  I try to soothe him with rocking and stroking.  Nothing stops the non-stop flailing arms and legs, trying to grab any part of me to hurt me while screaming at the top of his lungs.  It has been 10 minutes now and he does not stop.  The session is clearly over, even though our time is not up.  I take him to a secluded area in the hospital - yes, we are in a hospital, with people in little rooms everywhere listening to this screaming child of mine.  We are alone.  Not satisfying.  All of the above continues, while the therapist goes back to her room to retrieve my things, which Boo-boo has thrown all over her office.  By the time she returns, I am crying, too! 

I don't know what to do!  I am so sad that I cannot calm my child.  So sad that I have to restrain him physically to keep him from hurting himself or me.  I am embarrassed to leave the hospital and to pass people in waiting rooms in order to get to my car.  I am a mess - Boo-boo is a mess.  I don't want people to think I am kidnapping my own baby. 

The therapist knows a back way out.  We go downstairs through the emergency exit.  Boo's cries echo up the concrete stairs.  I have to walk a block across a park to get to my car.  I am restraining him while he cries and I cry.  We pass kids playing and people with their dogs who just stop and stare. 

He continues to cry half-way to Scootle-doot's school.  I estimate that this tantrum lasted about half and hour.  He is exhausted and breathing heavy at the end of it all.  His face has a look I have never seen before.  My arms hurt from trying to restrain him for so long.  This was a tough morning, to say the least.  So many questions, so many inadequacies on my part. 

Yes, I know this is very typical behavior for a two year old (he will be two Friday!).  But there is a lot more to this.  My children are fragile and sometimes, I get carried away with their resiliency and forget to respect their needs.  We have been visiting grandparents since last Monday.  I wanted extra help since Bill has been traveling (he returns Wednesday).  There was a lot of driving, a lot of different routines, a lot of different people coming and going.  All of this, while both boys' favorite person in the whole wide word is missing.  We arrived last night and both boys got to bed late. 

This morning, it was a rush to get Scootle to school and Boo to therapy on time.  Add to all of this Boo's inability to express some of the most basic needs of two year olds due to his language delay.  He was tired!  He was happy to wake up in his own bed and home and I plucked him away.  And then I let the therapist put him in time out!?  That look he gave me made me so sad.  It was as if I gave up on him, deserted him.  If anyone was going to put him in time out - which he doesn't understand anyway - it should have been me. 

I canceled my plans to go grocery shopping with the boys this afternoon and all of us just stayed put at home.  We took long naps, played outside and did lots of cuddling while going back to our NORMAL routine.  Boo-boo fell asleep as soon as he touched the bed tonight, back in his world, back in his security. 

And I sit here, ridden with guilt.  I am going away Friday-Tuesday.  More upheaval on the way, baby.  At least he will be home with daddy.

Loving MY Three Year Old

Just thinking about A makes me laugh!  He has so much personality.  All the extremes of personality, too! He is a bit like me.  One minute he is laughing, playing, having fun.  The next, he is tantruming, shutting down, screaming or being Mr. Stubborn.  He, at least, has an excuse.  He is THREE.  Not so for ME.  Why do I make the comparison?  Because the road to love for A and me has not been easy.  He pushes my buttons.  I push his.  At first, this was extremely trying.  Now, we still push each others buttons, but we also hug, we also kiss, we also exchange, "I love you, A!" and "Mommy A, I love you!" (He, like his favorite pal Elmo, speaks in third person.)

Back in the day, on December 18, 2009, we met A for the first time.  He emerged from a full room of kids, everyone making room for him as they knew this was his moment.  He walks up to Bill (I had the camera) and Bill scoops him up in his arms.  He is so much smaller than we expected him to be.  He is shy, reserved.   I am a babbling mess holding the camera and soon we exchange - camera, son.  Son.  Our son hugs us, gives us each a kiss on the cheek.  He looks uneasy at the camera, but he doesn't let go. He, unlike his baby brother, remembers what a loving family feels like.  His world turned upside down for 8 months and he has held on to whoever would give him a little attention.  He holds on to us and we will not let him go. It was definitely love at first sight, but love at first sight doesn't always prove to be the lasting kind unless you work at it.

Our first month together can be described by the word SURVIVAL.  There didn't seem to be much bonding between A and me.  He was all about DAH-DEE!  DAH-DEE and I were so stunned by the addition of two to our family that we just barely made it through the days.  Caretaking became a full time job for BOTH of us and then Bill went back to work.   A seemed to respectfully tolerate me, but as soon as Bill came home, it was "Dah-dee, ho-pee!" (Daddy, up!)  K was so needy - bottle, diaper change, rock, nap, repeat, that I had little time for independent little A during the day.  This began to really bother me for weeks and came to a head when I read this post . A was always extremely affectionate.  With Bill.  I needed to remind myself to hold A, to kiss him, to hug him whenever I got a chance.  He didn't usually ask me to hold him or hug him, but the gestures were ALWAYS well received.  A good friend told me that she did not let her daughters (who were also adopted) pass by without some level of touching - patting their head, tickling, hugging, etc.  I took her advice.

Bill had just started using K's Ergo with A.  It worked beautifully to calm him down and gave Bill some room to do other things besides hold A ho-pee.  The first few times he used it, A fell asleep in minutes.  I started to use it with A, too, when K was napping.  I started telling A how much I loved him as much as possible.  I loved his original responses, "A wud e shalo mommy."  Love started building.

Then I pulled out my secret weapon with children.  After years of working with kids, I had not pulled out my secret weapon with my own child!  Stress can make you so uptight that you are not yourself.  And myself is goofy, about as goofy as any 3-8 year old.  9 year olds and up are too cool for my goofiness.  I started to act goofy and A ate it up.  "Mommy silly girl!" he would say to me as I way over reacted to things, as I danced ridiculously in front of him, made faces or made outrageous claims.  We began to really bond with laughter.

Though still a daddy's boy, I can tell you that A really loves his mommy.  He tells me so many times a day.  I admire his bravery and resiliency so much.  He remembers what happened to him and his birth family in Ethiopia.  With his limited English, we talk about it sometimes.  He speaks matter of factly about things that would make you cry.  Yet he has attached to us and grabbed onto his new life with extreme gusto.  He is so curious and absorbs everything he hears and sees.

I confess that loving a three year old is not always as easy as loving a baby, but it is just as rewarding.  He has his opinions.  Strong opinions about everything.  But there is a lot of integrity in that, don't you think?  He is his own person.  We will love him and help mold him, but he will be whom he will be!  A!  As I have learned to watch and observe him, I have actually learned a lot about me.  As I look at the world through his eyes, my inner curiosity, optimism and wonder kick in.  I love my A.  My A loves me. Loving a three year old - I recommend it!

 
Pictured:

1. A wearing toy "glassics" that belong to one of my brothers.
2. A's hair after a typical hour of playing out in the backyard with Samba.
3. Dah-dee's boy.
4. A/Mommy moment - thanks to Ergo.
5. A wearing my boots and striking a signature A pose - pointing to emphasize a point - loudly!
6. A carrying "Kibi", his baby that gets bathed, fed, dropped on his head, loved, kicked, tossed ... Kibi is a love object/science experiment.
7. A loves to talk on his selki/phone.  He also likes to accessorize his brother.

Baby Love

 

My sweet little baby son, K, is such a delight.  He has come such a long way since we first met him in Ethiopia 2 and a half months ago.  Then, at 8 months, he could barely hold his head up, he could not sit up or hold any weight on his legs, he gave no real eye contact and he shook his head side to side, side to side to soothe himself.

I cannot believe he is the same child!  He sits up, rolls over, crawls backwards, eats solid foods, screams (as you all know), is getting some very delicious baby fat, signs the words "milk" and "eat" appropriately,  puts weight on his legs and even bounces.  His eye contact is still not 100%, but so, so much better.  He also has three little games he initiates with me that just melt my heart .... blinking several times so I'll do the same, lowering his forehead towards me so I will bump foreheads with him and smiling the sweetest smile while doing a little dance so that I will reciprocate.  He loves being held.  He loves rubbing our faces together.  He lights up when I come into a room.  He squeals with laughter when I kiss his neck.

The first few weeks home, I took care of him, looked after him, but felt almost numb to what was happening in my life.  Then one day, without warning, "baby love" hit me so hard it hurt.  I was surprised by a primal, hormonal, emotional and physical love for this baby.  He didn't return the feeling immediately, but I can tell something has happened between us in the last few weeks.  He is learning what it is like to have a mommy (and a daddy, too!), what it means to be loved and to have security.  He is blossoming in that love and feelings I can't even put into words are blossoming in me, too.  Baby love.  I recommend it.

___________________________

*** Coming soon:  Loving a Three Year Old

Some Days, I'm Not Sure I'm Cut Out for This...

Take today.  Great morning ... at one point, both boys are on my lap and we are reading fun books.  A is learning so many words!  It feels so good and I am having fun.  They play on the back porch while I tidy up a tiny bit.  A and I are getting along so well and the baby is playing so nicely on the floor.

Fast forward a bit ... how did it get so late for K's nap this morning?  Why doesn't A give a flip about the marvelous airplane I painstakingly made him from a carboard box but instead only wants "uppy, mommy"?  How can I hold my three year old "uppy" while the baby needs to be burped and changed?  Why is my baby almost asleep in my arms with his bottle and then crazy jumpy fidgety awake as soon as he is down for a nap? Why do little things like that make me want to scream or kick things?

Right now, they are both in bed for their naps.  Not necessarily asleep.  I don't know how to entertain them.  Things I plan don't always go over well.  These are the days when I wonder....

Why two kids at once?  Why?  Why?
What have I done??

One Month Home!

***  Quick reminder, this blog will be private tomorrow.  If you would like to continue reading, send me your e-mail in a comment - I will not publish it.  Thanks to all of you who wrote to say you want to continue reading!  I will send out invitations to view my private blog tonight.

______________________

Yesterday, marked one month since we have been home!  What an experience!  It feels a lot longer than a month, for both good and bad reasons :)  Good:  We love having two boys, specifically, our two boys.  They are pure joy.  Bad:  We have to deal with what most parents of two young children deal with - temper tantrums, crying, testing, unpredictability and lots of ENERGY (which means we are just much more tired on a daily basis).

Just to make sure I get a post in today while A is playing and K napping, here are some quick bullet points to mark the changes we have seen in each boy:

K (9 mo old):

• When we first met him, he was on his first week of solid food and didn't know what to do with it.  Now, he eats rice cereal, oatmeal, sweet potatoes, carrots, peas, yogurt and lentils.  He is not a messy eater at all for now (except when he sneezes).
  
• He barely held his head up when we met him.  Now, he has excellent posture and is almost sitting by himself.
• K is now able to feed himself a teething biscuit and pick up puffs with his fingers and eat them, sitting in his high chair.
• K didn't give us good eye contact at first.  Now, he lights up when he sees a familiar face and coos and smiles when we talk to him.  He gazes into our faces and looks directly into our eyes.
• His vocal ability is expanding.  He LOVES to YELL, blow raspberries and sing to himself.
  
• He has slept through the night a few times - thank you, thank you!
  

A (3 yrs, 2 mo):

• A is picking up a lot of English and Portuguese words.  He can say:  up, down, sleeping, awake, truck/caminhao, tricycle, work, Elmo, George (as in Curious George),  muito bem (very good), hot, cold, hello, baby, airplane/aviao, yes/sim, no, grandma/vovo, papa/vovo, park, hat and of course, lots and lots of animal names.
• He is having fewer and fewer tantrums (thank God!).
• He is more and more affectionate with his brother and with Samba.
• He is a very good eater - a special post on this later.
• He has gained 3 pounds.
• He has gone from screaming at a bath to playing happily for a long while in the bath.
• He repeats and retains so much of what we say :)
  
• He is learning to ride a tricycle.

Since Bill's parents (aka Ah-papah and Ghee-ran-ma) were here for a few days to help with the transition to Bill working full time, we were able to all go out yesterday to celebrate our one month of being home.

 

 

Two Weeks Down, A Lifetime to Go ...

I confess that I am a little bit stunned at how quickly my life got completely and utterly transformed.  A "Three Continent Family" is very, very, very different from a two contient one.  For example, this morning:  after a so-so night's sleep, Two Contient Family Evelyn would have kept right on sleeping when Bill decided to actually set an alarm and get up before the boys.  Three Continent Evelyn contemplated going back to sleep, but the thought of having an uninterrupted breakfast was so sweet, so unbelievable, that I gave up sleep to read the paper with my cereal in peace.  It never happened, though I did get to start breakfast without an interruption.  Oh, the minute little things I once took for granted!  Sleep, brushing my teeth, a long shower, an errand, a phone call, talk over dinner ...

Meanwhile, the Three Continent Family evolves.  I cannot say love is in full bloom yet in my heart, but I know the seeds are there.  I can't say I feel like a mother, though I don't know what else I could possibly be doing to have the certainty to say it.  I am absolutely a mother in everything I do now, I just don't feel like one all the way yet.  But unlike last Monday, this Monday, I have had more sleep.  I know these things will come.

For now, I am just trying to appreciate the moments when those feelings ARE there.  This afternoon, for example, I pulled out our indoor hammock (like any self-respecting Brazilian has in their home) for the first time.  I swung in it.  Agegnehu smiled.  I pulled him in.  Kibru stared.  I pulled him in, too, and found myself sitting between two little boys, swinging in our sunny back porch on a cold winter day.  They were both quiet (miracle # 1) and leaning into me, who for a second, felt very much like a mama.

Today, Bill has gone back to work part-time.  I cried when he left.  I dreaded this afternoon.  But instead of temper tantrums and too much energy, we swung in a hammock.  I put them down for a nap and the older one actually sleeps (miracle # 2).  Baby played and played and is now asleep, too. 

 

 

 

 

We've been at it two weeks, with a lifetime to go ... a tiny little voice inside says I might just be able to do this...

In case you ever find yourself feeling as though you are drowning when the thing you've wanted for so long comes true...

Evelyn and Kibru, at about hour 2 of the 30 hour journey home from Addis Ababa

You are not alone.  Here are some other posts about the "lowdown" of the first few weeks at home with internationally adopted children. Sleep deprivation + jet lag + sickness = your worst self ever.  Subtract just one thing and your self is still pretty beat down.  This is not everyone's experience, but it certainly was (is) mine.  The silver lining - things are getting better and better every day. 

"There is Only One Word..." by Claudia

"Surfacing" by Claudia
"Day Four at Home" by Claudia
"Sleep" by Claudia

"Post Adoption Panic" by Melissa Faye Greene

"Mother Fail" by Julie
"So Much to Say" by Julie


"One Month Together" by Rahel

"5 Month Summary from Mom"  by Kim

"Don't Call Me Mama" blog by Elizabeth Rias

If you have any more links that I should add here, please include it in a post!  Amasaganalo!

The Lowdown

Did anyone tell me this was going to be hard?  Yes.  Did anyone tell me I was crazy?  Yes.  Did anyone warn me?  Yes.  Did I listen?  NO!  I feel so over my head right now.  Two plus years did not prepare me in any way, shape or form for parenting.  Especially not for parenting TWO.

They are beautiful, delightful and amazing.  I, however am a mess.  A crying mess.  I cry out of sadness for my grieving babies.  I cry out of frustration for my inconsolable, sick, Kibru.  I cry because I am sleep deprived.  I cry because I miss my former life with Bill and Samba.  I cry because I, too, have been sickly.  I cry because the beauty of my boys overwhelms me.  I cry because I wonder if I'll ever be able to do this.  I cry because I don't feel fully like a mother yet.  I cry because Bill is such an amazing dad and I am so proud of him.  I cry if I talk to my mom or a friend on the phone.  Just hearing empathetic voices can make me cry.  I cry because it's in my nature.  I am a big, wallowing, boo-hooing, cry baby.

Did other people blog about these first few days and weeks home?  I don't remember reading about breakdowns, though if I did, I probably blissfully ignored the fact that I was about to step into the same road.  If you or someone you know has blogged about the first days, please send me a link and I'll include it here.

I am going to try to write some honest posts here about the first weeks home.  The cute boy pictures are true.  There is a lot of cuteness going on here.  But the picture of a crying mama is also a true one.  For all of the mamas getting ready to bring their babies home - may this help prepare you, just as much as the blogs about the joys of having children do.

I leave you with cuteness, to ensure that this is not the most depressing entry of the day.