Holy cow where has the time gone?!?!?!
February was a rotten month. I wish I could say otherwise, but it was just plain rotten. The weather was mostly cold and snowy and cold and cold and sub-zero. Keith worked insane hours. He also turned forty in there, and was not too terribly happy about it. But we did have a great party to celebrate him, and more than sixty people came out on a terribly cold and snowy day to love on my husband. That was awesome!!
But most days were filled with too much time inside, too much screen time all around, too many homemade baked goods, not enough exercise and four year old attitude.
Four might kill me.
It. Is. Constant.
The questions. The desire for knowledge. The battle between “baby me, Mama,” and, “I DO IT MYSELF!!!!!!” The leaps in cognitive growth and the regression in things like potty training and sleeping through the night. The constant hunger and refusal to eat anything except corn dogs and applesauce and yogurt.
A fellow adoptive mom describes it as the rubber band theory: children want to see how far away they can stretch the boundaries of good behavior to see if you’ll still love them. Once they realize you still love them, no matter what, they snap back to right next to you for cuddles.
We had a huge adoption moment last week. It turns out Little Man is desperately missing his birthmother. I understand this, but I didn’t understand it at the moment. I didn’t get that it was the root of some serious behavior choices for a few days. He finally said, “I want a new mommy,” and, honestly, I cried. It was after a string of six hour nights (meaning six hours, max, of sleep, and not in a row) and a really rough day. I didn’t get hysterical, or mad; I just quietly cried. So once I calmed down, I asked him what he meant.
He wants Mama S to be his mama.
His little four year old heart and soul and brain are trying to process his story the best that they can. It manifests itself in behavior instead of words. I had forgotten that; he had forgotten how to say, “I miss Mama S.” So we had an incredibly good cuddle session where we talked about Mama S and where she is and what can we do with our feelings.
Then Little Man pretended to cut my hair and play barber shop with me for like thirty minutes. Over and over again he combed my hair and just ran his fingers through it. The rest of the night he wouldn’t get more than about four feet from me. This, after a week of “Get away I do it myself” and “NO” attitude.
Parenting is hard. Adoption is hard. Life is messy. February is ALWAYS hard. But I missed you all.
What have you got???