Gosh, my goal in writing here was two (or more) fold. First, to write in an open way about this adoption ride and second, to journal the experience for Sitota when she's older. Because we forget. We do. So, lets see how this goes.
6 weeks. It's been 6 weeks since I last wrote here. We came home with Sitota 17 weeks ago today. Is that IT? I remember when I wrote about how she didn't like me very much and I was jealous of the Punks. I remember when we used to have to make up games that encouraged contact, closeness and affection.
I remember when it felt so hard. Moments still are hard.
Have you had a toddler who was strong willed and sassy and yelled? A lot. A 3 year old who needed naps most days, but only ever took them when you drove her around? Or how about one who wakes up most nights, wakes her sister up, comes to you and a game of musical beds commences? Have you had a punk who required bribery to try new foods and refused most veggies?
Yeah, me, too.
Mostly we've stopped playing the "is this adoption related behavior or toddler related behavior" game. It doesn't matter too much at this stage of the game. She requires the same tender lovin' limits to get through. There are moments though, when we make note. Rob was putting her to bed last week and they were saying prayers together, and Sitota suddenly and quietly filled up with tears. Stoic, and making great effort to hold herself together. Her little nose red, her eyes filled, her lips pressed together in determination.... it tears me apart. "It felt different." Rob said. Who knows if she was grieving a loss or just wishing she was playing with the other Punks?
We've been swimming, and she is making great strides. She looks forward to it, for sure. We stay in the pool for an hour or more most times. She stayed in the childcare at the Y for about 10 minutes without tears, and we talk about going back for longer.
She's clingy. A Mama's girl. But she's accepted the alternating nights of Rob and I coordinating her bedtime rituals. She is a creature of habit and cycles through books. Right now it's Olivia and Llama Llama Home with Mama. She wants to go to the Degas painting in the Olivia book. I think she wants to actually go into the painting, but it would be interesting to see how she'd do at an art museum. She also asks to go to the Cosby Show with great regularity, and once she pointed to a photo of her and her friend at the care center and asked if we could go there "later?"
She's tired of the Punks getting in her face and asking for hugs and kisses. They love their sister and are slowly driving her crazy. She loves to be with them when she gets her was, but she's bossy and yelly when they aren't bending to her will. Still a couple steps away from normal, but it's getting there. They are getting there.
She's also tolerating dogs more now. Mostly. Rob and Sitota went to bring Clay to a friends house where they have an English bulldog. She was scared, but warmed to the point where she came home telling me about how the dog was kissing her leg. That weekend, we went to have dinner with some good friends who have a sweet border collie mix. Nervous, sure, but she did great. Huge strides.
We still look at pictures a lot. We snuggle a lot. Potty training is going pretty well. We get exasperated and we get tired and we laugh. We do all of those things. Often.
The other kids are doing well, and we have stopped asking, "is this an adoption issue or a Punk issue." Doesn't matter, we are wading through the tender lovin' limits and we feel like our heads are popping off on a regular basis. Life. Teenagers and tweens and toddlers. New reality show?
And Rob and I are having a night out next weekend, and that will be good too.
And now my meter has run out, and I have to go get Aidan from his 1st art class at Maine College of Art. I hope it went great and this will be a positive experience for him.
Thanks for hanging out for a few minutes. It feels good to get this stuff out.
6 weeks. It's been 6 weeks since I last wrote here. We came home with Sitota 17 weeks ago today. Is that IT? I remember when I wrote about how she didn't like me very much and I was jealous of the Punks. I remember when we used to have to make up games that encouraged contact, closeness and affection.
I remember when it felt so hard. Moments still are hard.
Have you had a toddler who was strong willed and sassy and yelled? A lot. A 3 year old who needed naps most days, but only ever took them when you drove her around? Or how about one who wakes up most nights, wakes her sister up, comes to you and a game of musical beds commences? Have you had a punk who required bribery to try new foods and refused most veggies?
Yeah, me, too.
Mostly we've stopped playing the "is this adoption related behavior or toddler related behavior" game. It doesn't matter too much at this stage of the game. She requires the same tender lovin' limits to get through. There are moments though, when we make note. Rob was putting her to bed last week and they were saying prayers together, and Sitota suddenly and quietly filled up with tears. Stoic, and making great effort to hold herself together. Her little nose red, her eyes filled, her lips pressed together in determination.... it tears me apart. "It felt different." Rob said. Who knows if she was grieving a loss or just wishing she was playing with the other Punks?
We've been swimming, and she is making great strides. She looks forward to it, for sure. We stay in the pool for an hour or more most times. She stayed in the childcare at the Y for about 10 minutes without tears, and we talk about going back for longer.
She's clingy. A Mama's girl. But she's accepted the alternating nights of Rob and I coordinating her bedtime rituals. She is a creature of habit and cycles through books. Right now it's Olivia and Llama Llama Home with Mama. She wants to go to the Degas painting in the Olivia book. I think she wants to actually go into the painting, but it would be interesting to see how she'd do at an art museum. She also asks to go to the Cosby Show with great regularity, and once she pointed to a photo of her and her friend at the care center and asked if we could go there "later?"
She's tired of the Punks getting in her face and asking for hugs and kisses. They love their sister and are slowly driving her crazy. She loves to be with them when she gets her was, but she's bossy and yelly when they aren't bending to her will. Still a couple steps away from normal, but it's getting there. They are getting there.
She's also tolerating dogs more now. Mostly. Rob and Sitota went to bring Clay to a friends house where they have an English bulldog. She was scared, but warmed to the point where she came home telling me about how the dog was kissing her leg. That weekend, we went to have dinner with some good friends who have a sweet border collie mix. Nervous, sure, but she did great. Huge strides.
We still look at pictures a lot. We snuggle a lot. Potty training is going pretty well. We get exasperated and we get tired and we laugh. We do all of those things. Often.
The other kids are doing well, and we have stopped asking, "is this an adoption issue or a Punk issue." Doesn't matter, we are wading through the tender lovin' limits and we feel like our heads are popping off on a regular basis. Life. Teenagers and tweens and toddlers. New reality show?
And Rob and I are having a night out next weekend, and that will be good too.
And now my meter has run out, and I have to go get Aidan from his 1st art class at Maine College of Art. I hope it went great and this will be a positive experience for him.
Thanks for hanging out for a few minutes. It feels good to get this stuff out.
