Mayhem and Magic

Overheard

Overheard at our house in the last few days:

1)  "Please take your fork out of your nose."  (Beloved to Sparkle at dinner time.)

2) "It's not polite to touch someone else's penis without their permission."  (Both parents to both boys at bathtime.)

3) "I need my Grandma!" (Sparkle, upset because he was in time out.)

4) "I want to have a stay-home day!  I don't want to go to school-- there are big kids in my class!"  (Again Sparkle, and again with the mom guilt.  But now I think he might partly be using this as an attention-getting ploy, so I am trying not to blow him off, but also trying not to over-react.)

5) "Chicken!  Chicken!  CHICKEN!  More chicken, Mama!  MORE CHICKEN!!"  (Pumpkin at dinner, before he ate so much chicken he threw up 30 minutes later.)

Follow Up and Picture

Thanks for your comments in the last few days. 

A bit of occasional guilt (whether it's appropriate guilt or not) makes me re-evaluate how our family is working and how the boys are doing.  And, overall, that is a good thing.

Sparkle had a hard week in the River room, and that is partly why I'm having a "Am I Doing This Mom Thing Right?!?" crisis. 

Here's what happened:  Beloved got a call this week from the pre-school director.  She asked us to encourage Sparkle to participate more in Group Time in the mornings.  Group Time is at the beginning of the day, and all the kids sit on the floor facing the teacher, who demonstrates some work or leads an experiment.  The kids are supposed to respect the teacher by staying seated and quiet. 

Sparkle is not into staying seated and quiet.

When Beloved told me about the phone call, I was defensive immediately. 

First, he's THREE!  Group Time is 15 to 20 minutes long!  Part of the whole montessori "thing" is that the kids choose their activities, so each child learns at his own pace in a way that interests him.  The job of the teachers is to provide ways for individual kids to learn in ways that they enjoy.  Sparkle's other classrooms had Group Time as well, but the kids could come and go during Group Time if they wanted. 

And did I mention he's THREE!

The next morning as Beloved dropped Sparkle off, he gently reminded him to respect his teacher during Group Time.  He did much better that day, according to the pre-school director.  However, when I picked him up he was sitting on a teacher's lap, kind of teary-eyed.  She said he had been feeling sad that morning, and she wondered if he was getting sick.

So I wonder if my poor baby is overwhelmed and upset that his teachers (or us) are displeased with him.

I don't know if that is true or not, but it seems like quite a coincidence.

Today we had a Stay-Home-Day.  I am very grateful to have Fridays off so that Sparkle could have a break from school.  We went to open gym time, and had macaroni and cheese for lunch, and played in the sprinkler after naps.  No pressure, baby boy!  Just a fun day together.

(Edited: photo removed)

Mom Guilt

I wish I wanted to stay home with the boys.

If I really wanted to, Beloved and I could make it work financially.  But I don't want to be a stay-at-home mom.   

They go to an excellent school.  But it would be good for the boys to have a parent caring for them full-time.  They deserve to be cared for by someone who believes they are the very best boys on the face of the planet.  But I'm afraid if I was at home full-time that the boy's childhoods would be tainted with memories of a mother who was cranky, impatient, and exasperated.

Starting at the beginning of this year, I took every Friday off, so technically I work only part-time.  But I feel like a full-time working mom who happens to be home most Fridays.  I do enjoy Fridays with the boys.  But I definitely feel like I have to plan the day in advance.  If we are just...  home...  by midmorning I start to get irritable.  If we leave the house (even if we just go grocery shopping or go to open gym time), things are better.  Maybe I get distracted at home by all the stuff around the house that needs to be done.  Maybe if the laundry was done and the house was clean and the lawn was mowed, I could concentrate more on relaxing (Ha! Concentrate on relaxing!) and just enjoy the boys.

I don't feel obligated either to work or to stay home.  I like my paycheck, but we don't need it to survive.  Guilt trips from outside sources (say, for example, the expectations of my husband's family or the culture of my church) don't make me feel that I must stay home to be a good mother/woman/wife/Christian. 

Still...  I know my boys deserve the very best, and I am not 100% sure that I am providing the very best.

Honestly, I am just afraid I would be miserable as a stay-at-home, and that I would make the boys miserable, too.

Decorating a Boy's Room

I need some decorating advice.

Here's the thing: I loved the nursery. 

It didn't have a "theme" so much as a "scheme."  The walls were bright-ish blue.  There were two rugs, striped with bright-ish blue, ivory, and a sage-y green.  The curtains were sage-y green and ivory gingham with bright-ish blue bits of grosgrain ribbon at the top.  The crib bedding was blue and ivory striped.  The hardware accents (like light fixture, lamp base, frames, etc) were shiny silver.  The rocking chair was navy blue, and a few little accents were also navy blue.

Now we have a little boy's room, but I want to keep the room somewhat like it was (because I like it, and also because I'm cheap). 

I'd like to keep the wall color, curtains, rugs, rocking chair, and the old baby wardrobe.  But I need (need?  well, I'd like...) new bedding that is blue and green and fits in with all that stuff.  There is lots of blue and lime green bedding available, but not so much blue and sage-y green. 

(Did you know there is some truely atrocious children's bedding out there?  Yikes.)

If I get this, I can buy just a duvet cover for each bed (just for the color/pattern, not for warmth), and have solid colored sheets.

These sheets are nice, and I'd probably look for a solid or striped comfortor. 

Or, if I'm very ambitious and don't want to pay big bucks for kids bedding, I could buy solid colored sheets and sew rows of rick-rack on the trim, like this. 

So now I have a very long post here about not much at all.  But this is kind of a nice little diversion; something sort of fun to think about and plan.

What do you think?  How did you (or will you) organize and decorate your children's rooms?

Fun Photos

Last Saturday I spent most of the day at a wedding. 

The bride asked me to take pictures of her and the bridesmaids (all 14 of them!) getting dressed.  I discovered that it is difficult to take pictures of people who are generally facing away from you, with their faces close to a mirror.  (Mirror pictures are harder than you might think.) 

But on the other hand, it is easy to take pictures of people who are happy, excited, and getting gorgeous with their friends.

(Edited: Identifying photos have been removed.)

Transitions

Sparkle started in his new classroom, the River room, this week. 

There is a fish tank in the River room, and some walking-stick insect things, and lots of new work.  He gets to play on the big kid playground now.  This is a yoga-every-morning, serious-gardening classroom, people.  Very exciting.

But...  I think the transition is hard anyway. 

When he moved to this school from his previous daycare, he was only about 13 months old--too young to have developed friendships with the kids he left.  Now, though, he has been with his classmates from the Branch room for about two years.  A few kids have come and gone, but his peer group has stayed mostly the same.

Now, he and Zoe are the only new kids in the River room.  This is a montessori school, with ages 3-6 in the same classroom, so all the other kids are older.  They have known each other for at least one year, maybe three.  They are more experienced and more comfortable and more capable.  I think my baby is feeling a bit overwhelmed.

Yesterday, Sparkle was really quiet (unusual!) at breakfast.  I asked him, "What are you thinking about Sparkle?"  "Nothing..." he said.  Then, "I need my grandma!" and crawled into my lap for snuggles (again, unusual!).  I asked him, "Are you missing your friends from the Branch?"  He said, "No...  But, Mama, I want to put my lunchbox away in the Branch today!"

My sweet boy...

There is a another transition happening at our house, too.  The boys have a bunk bed! 

Last Wednesday, Pumpkin was fussing a bit after I put him down for bed, and then I heard him crying, "Uh-oh!  Uh-oh!"  When I got to his room (running!), he had both legs over the side of the crib, and was bent double over the rail like a little gymnast, holding on for dear life to the sides.  So this weekend we went shopping for a bunk bed. 

The boys both loved climbing up the ladders at the various furniture stores.  They helped pick out a pretty simple, inexpensive, wooden bunk bed.  They were excited when the matresses were delivered.  They got out their plastic tools ("Like Daddy!") and "helped" us put it together.

Last night was their first night sleeping in it, Sparkle on top and Pumpkin on the bottom.  They talked and sang songs for about 30 minutes before they both fell asleep. 

This morning, though, as I got Sparkle up he said, "Mama, now Daddy can put away this bunk bed and tonight I will sleep in my own bed."

(Sigh...)

He's only three.  Transitions are so hard.

Meeting Pumpkin: Photos

1. First view of Pumpkin.  He was gorgeous from the beginning!

2. Next to a "newborn" outfit I brought for him.  Hmmm...  We went to Babies R Us the next day.  (We also took another picture of him wearing this outfit a few months later when it actually fit!)

3. Wrapping him up in many blankets was the only way to make him secure in the carseat.  Definitely not ideal.  Later I discovered that they sell special cushions just for preemies, to position them securely in a regular car seat.

(Edited: Photos removed.)

Pumpkin's Adoption Story, Part 2 of 2

The plan was to wait until the new year to even think about what we would do next.  We put adoption out of our minds, for the most part.  We hugged Sparkle a lot.

That lasted for less than three weeks.

In October, Beloved got a call from the same woman who had called us about the first possible adoption.  (This was the good lady, not the nasty adoption agency.)  Beloved said she was almost apologetic, but said, "There's a baby boy in Indiana who needs a family." 

(I know you are in horrible suspense, so I'll just tell you now...  It was Pumpkin!)

She had put off calling us, because she felt badly about recommending the previous agency who turned out to be horrible.  She refused to call us until the baby's mom had signed some paperwork necessary to start his relinquishment. 

In the meantime, Pumpkin had been in the hospital since his birth.  He was born at about 31 weeks and had weighed three pounds, three ounces.  Now, at almost three weeks old, he was doing so well that the hospital was insisting that he be discharged.

Beloved, who is a very "by-the-book" kind of guy, didn't even want to tell me about the call.  We were waiting!  Until January!  It was only October!  But he told me anyway. 

I was initially concerned about dealing with possible problems related to prematurity, but I spoke with his nurse practioner and was very encouraged by how well she felt he was doing.

So, no more waiting!

I remember calling my mom that night to tell her about Pumpkin.  She and my dad were driving, and I got them on Mom's cell phone.  I said, "Hey, Mom, guess what I'm doing tomorrow.  I'm going to get a baby!"  She screamed/laughed, and then the phone cut out.  It took about 10 minutes until they got back into an area with cell phone service and she called back, practically frantic to hear what was going on. 

Within less than 24 hours of even knowing that Pumpkin existed, I was on the plane.  At about the 24 hour mark, I landed in Chicago, picked up my rental car (asked for an infant seat to be installed), and was on my way to Indiana.  I drove directly to the hospital.

Picking up Pumpkin was just surreal.  I remember sitting in the parked van outside the hospital, checking to make sure the carseat and mini diaper bag were ready.  I put on some Chapstick.  (You don't want dry lips when you're meeting your baby, of course.)  Carrying the car seat and diaper bag, I walked in and asked to be directed to the infant nursery.  When I got to the 4th floor, a nurse asked if she could help me, and I said, "My name is Amanda, and I'm here to pick up a baby."  I felt like that sounded really silly.  And I felt like I looked silly-- a nervous, excited, slightly disheveled and lost-looking woman carrying an empty infant seat. 

The nurse rushed me down the hall to an empty waiting area.  She seemed to be trying to get me out of view.  She said Pumpkin's mother was there saying good-bye, and I needed to wait until she left.  Looking back, I really wish I had insisted on meeting her.  But I had not known she would be there, and I wasn't prepared to argue with a nurse about it. 

After about 10 minutes, I dared to peek out from my waiting area.  The nurses said, "Oh...  You can come down here now."  I looked into the nursery, but I had no idea which baby he was.  "He's right over there," said a busy nurse, but I still had to have her show me exactly which bassinet he was in. 

He was tiny.  Tiny, tiny, tiny.  He was sleeping, all wrapped up in a blanket and a hat.  I took off his hat and kissed his little head and whispered a bit to him.  After a few minutes a nurse came and told me I should get him dressed.  The newborn clothes were huge on him-- his arms didn't even reach to the arm holes in the onesie.  It took me forever to dress him because he seemed so small and fragile.  Yet another nurse gave me the very briefest of discharge instructions.  I wanted to take some pictures and ask the nurses who cared for him to tell me about his stay there.  But they seemed to think it was odd that I was hanging around for so long (about 15 minutes by then).  He  rode in the bassinet as we were escorted to the parking lot.  I had to wrap him in three baby blankets to get the straps on the carseat to fit even remotely snuggly.

Then off we went, driving to a hotel another two hours away in Indianapolis.  When we arrived, I called Beloved and told him we were fine, and the baby was really, really tiny.

Pumpkin and I stayed at the hotel for about five days.  I left the TV and radio off the entire time, and I held him constantly, humming and talking as much as I could.  I finished reading "20 Things Adopted Children Wish Their Adoptive Parents Knew," and though it felt silly I told Pumpkin it was OK for him to miss his first mom, and that I was sorry she couldn't stay with him, and that I loved him very much. 

At first, it did feel like I was loving on someone else's baby, but over the days we spent there he started to feel "mine."

We did venture out a few times for food, preemie diapers, and preemie clothing.

There was a hearing at a court just outside Indianapolis, where I met the lawyer face-to-face for the first time.  Beloved participated by phone, and I could hear Sparkle yelling in the background while the judge talked to Beloved.

And then we flew home.  A few friends met us at the airport, and then we spent the rest of the day at home just awestruck and gazing at our two little boys.

We had been told that Pumpkin weighed almost 5 pounds, but at his check up two days after coming home he weighed 4 pounds, 10 ounces.  (I don't think he had been losing weight, I think he just didn't weigh as much at discharge as we had been told.)  After he had been home about a week, I broke down crying after Pumpkin's bath, and finally realized how worried I was that this wisp of a baby boy could get sick and be very, very ill before I realized something was wrong.  The fear got gradually better, but for months I worried that he would just stop breathing.  I prayed every night that he would be protected from SIDS.

Pumpkin is 19 months old now, and he is amazing. 

This evening the boys had popcicles outside after supper.  Pumpkin was sticky from head to foot with purple popsicle, and singing "Twinkle, Twinkle" at the top of his voice.  I told him, "I love you, Pumpkin Baby!" and he grinned and said, "Yuv 'oo, Mama!"

I am unbelievably blessed to be his mom.

Pumpkin's Adoption Story, Part 1 of 2

Beloved and I both wanted our children to be close in age, maybe no more than 2.5 years apart.  We had been home with Sparkle for only a few months when I starting thinking about adopting again.  South Africa was no longer processing adoptions to the U.S.  We looked again at Haiti, but I was scared off by the long wait between referral and travel (about 12-18 months), and the instability of the process.  We also requested an application for an Ethiopia adoption program, but we never filled it out.  Nothing seemed right.

We did look briefly at domestic adoption, but domestic adoption is much more complicated than international (or so it seemed).  I was overwhelmed by the number of agencies, their different requirements, and their different policies. 

So we decided to wait.

Nine months after we met Sparkle, a woman who had helped us with our first adoption called.  Adoption agencies must network somehow, because although her agency didn't do domestic adoptions, she knew another agency that was looking for potential adoptive parents for a baby to be born two months later.

The mom was having trouble finding an adoption agency to help her make an adoption plan because she was not a U.S. citizen, and her visa was to expire before the baby was born.  At the time, we were told that she was determined to place her child because she was married and wanted to return to her husband in her home country without him knowing about the pregnancy.  (This turned out not to be true.  You can see where this story is heading already, right?)

We spoke with the agency and with the mom, and committed to adopting the baby. 

Looking back, we can see that the situation was awkward from the beginning.  We never really felt connected to K (the mom) and she seemed...  well, she just didn't seem to like us very much.  (gasp! How could that be?)  Gradually, we discovered that she hadn't told the adoption agency the whole story regarding her family or the pregnancy.  And the adoption agency was not honest with us about some important matters either.  We thought very seriously about backing out, but of course we felt committed to the baby.  There were only a few short weeks until the baby was to be born, and he/she had nowhere to go but foster care if we backed out.  We had even called our parents to tell them that we were not going to proceed with the adoption.  But somehow, I don't even remember how, the agency convinced us to hang in there.

(This would be a good point to discuss adoption ethics, money, committment, and coercion wouldn't it?  But I don't want to stall the story too much!)

On September 21, K's baby girl was born.  We bought plane tickets as soon as we knew K was in labor.  A few hours before we left, the agency called to say that K was having second thoughts about placing her daughter.

So, we waited. 

K. went back and forth several times over the next two days, undecided about whether to place the baby or not.  To say we were stressed is putting it mildly. (I'm not overlooking how K must have felt, but I'm focusing mostly on our experience.)  After two days, we finally told the agency, "We are going to assume that K will decide to parent.  If she is still undecided, then she probably should not place the baby.  But call us if she does decide to sign the initial relinquishment paperwork." 

The adoption agency had been helping K with an application to extend her visa.  They were willing to continue helping her, but something was incorrect about the application, and it was never approved.  The last we knew, K's visa had expired.  The agency had bought her a bus ticket to New York, where she was hoping to stay with a friend.

Through all of this, we were blessed not to have actually met K's daughter, not to have held her, or named her.  We were very sad, but we realized that emotionally (for us) we had avoided being truly heartbroken.

Financially, we were also spared.  We had really stretched to pull together enough money for the agency fees within just a few weeks.  The agency had been so confident that K would place her child that they had agreed to refund our fees if she did not.  When things started looking rocky with the agency, we asked them to put that agreement in writing.  Though they we reluctant, we did have a document signed by the director saying that our fees (and specifying the amount) would be refunded if the adoption was not finalized.  I don't know why we had the foresight to insist on this written agreement, as we are usually not great at confrontation.  But we did get the money back (not swiftly or happily, but still). 

(This would be another great place to discuss adoption ethics, money, committment, and coercion.  For right now I'll just say, "Learn from us!  We did it almost entirely wrong!")   

Both Beloved and I were very much done with domestic adoption.

So, we decided to wait.

Part 2 (the good part) coming soon...