Recovering slowly...

He's done great handling and recovering from the seemingly never ending festivities. Mom? Not so much....

And just cause....

Where did my little baby go? He's all grown up.

Merry Christmas-

Self Imposed, Necessary Blog Break. Merry Christmas Everyone.

FYI- In January 2010 he was wearing 12mo. This Snowsuit is a 4. It's too small.

Friday Confessions- Turn me over

I admit:

• I'm cooked. Done. Flip me over. 
• I'm hiding it from the kid, cause it's only Wednesday and we have 2 more days to get through this week. 
• I'm also whining. Do not try this at home!
• I'm sick of appointments. Evaluations for this therapy and that therapy. Language. Speech. Hearing. Sight. Lead levels. Iron Levels. Vaccinations.
• We had a bad. Bad. BAD. B.A.D. Vaccination experience this week- but I'm too cooked to tell you about it.
• My whining about too many people evaluating my kid, feels wrong and conflicting. But then again...
• I'm cooked. And brain is scrambled egg. So.... I'm just going for "made it through" this week. 
• It's not really Friday. It is Wednesday. But my brain is cooked. What's your excuse?

Polar express: You know the kid who passes out and slides down his seat after indulging in Hot Chocolate? This is him.

The Many Faces of...

My Son. Here you have it. The Many faces of Teg. It's tough being so good lookin.

Cheesy

3 going on 13 with my Gene Simmonds impression

Zoolander Returns

Priceless

My "I can Vomit on my shirt, go back for more and dance" face

More "CHEESE".

In cognito. My "Pretending to hide from Paparazzi" look.

I don't know what to say about this one???? Little scary.

Oh. Well this makes up for that last one! Beauty even with the tongue

AAAKK! It's back!! I REALLY don't know what to say....

Let's finish with some nice ones. Cause with three year olds- they are rare- and breathtaking!

Kissers Stuck

Friday Confessions- Someplace to Fit...

I admit-

• That I screwed up this post and posted it the wrong day like 4 times. Sorry.
• That I thought I "Got it" when my dear friend Fi, said she chose to live where they do for their kids.

• I didn't really get it, until now.

(whining)  "Why don't you just come back here?"   "It's too expensive living there!"   "The city life takes such a toll."   "It would be so much easier for all of you to come here !"   "But think of what you could do?!?!"   "Think of what you could save!"

I know I said those things twenty times. Probably more ridiculous things as well.

I thought I understood when she said- "I have to think of my kids. And they need to live in a racially diverse place. Someplace they'll fit in."

I thought to myself- "Ya but- jeez! ... (insert 100 different now recognized as insensitive, unknowing, judgy thoughts)

Now. Now, I go to our Wallyworld, specifically because it seems to be the most likely place we/he will see people of color. (I'm not making a blanket Wallyworld statement- it's just where we see the most people in general round these hee-uh pahts)  Now. Now, there was NO WAY I was not going to the birthday party of one of the little girls in his school (meaning we DEFINITELY went)- because they are the only other family of color in the school. Yes I said it. I am not a fan of bday parties but I just could NOT miss this one.  These are RARE interactions for both of us!! They are purposeful. NOW, my dear Fi. NOW I GET IT!

*********

Back then... I guess- I didn't really understand at all. I did NOT "Get it". In fact- until recently I still, in theory, would have disagreed with her decision. (in my imaginary life- where I have input in where other people choose to live...) But eventually I grew to respect her/their decision, mostly because even though we rarely (like once a year maybe) saw each other, her kids always knew me and were thrilled to see me.

I grew to admire that she kept people alive in her children's hearts- even though there was little to no physical presence. From when they were young 2 and 3 years old- to now- tweenagers, they have always greeted and interacted with us as if we were best friends to them (the kids) rather than their parents friends!

As a mom, she somehow managed to keep fresh in their hearts those that love them around the world. Their Poppa (Maine, Dallas, SF, Romania, Ghana, Mongolia...), their Grammy (London, Colorado, Alps) and even Mom's closest college and HS friends scattered throughout the world (Hawaii, London, Texas and Maine).

Now. Not only do I "get it"- but I'm now faced with a very similar challenge. Keeping those that love us- alive in our hearts. Love. Alive.

Sunday Snapshots- Firsts

Friday Confessions- Single Parent Ridiculousness

 I admit

• That I usually need to have a 'sitter/distractor/play assistant' over in order to complete REAL  Full, feeling clean shower- ya know- one where everything is shaved, exfoliated, shampoo'd AND conditioned AND fully rinsed, washed, even a little scrubbed. 

• The last time I had a Real Full Shower- was a .... while ago. I drove 3 hours to my sisters, she was just giving the tyke a hug hello when I snagged the opportunity- "So, you're good with him? Ya?. I'm just gonna take a quick little shower" - where I hid in silence performed proper personal hygiene for over an hour a reasonable amount of time

• I'm now attempting to schedule the young lady in these pictures once a week- so Momma can really shower.

• Photo Booth is a great way to play for 2 hours- with someone else- while momma scrubs, lather, rinses, repeats, exfoliates, clips nails, q tips, razors and cotton balls.  

• I have boundary issues and share too much personal info. But if you are soon to be a single mom- know this is possibly your life soon....

• My son cracks me up. 

Culturefest?

Recently, our state University held their annual "Culturefest".  It is run annually by international students and is an attempt to share and show the culture of their home. It is a large university and I would guess there were maybe 20-30 different countries represented. (Sadly, there were usually only 1 or 2 students from each country).


This event is put on by the Department of International Students and each of the students is strongly encouraged to participate. It is a 3 hour event hoping to encourage the white canvas to experience a little flavor and color.  It isn't an overly impressive, gaudy expensive affair. It is completely run, and organized by students (which of course change every year). Before Teg came home I looked forward to this every year- and thought "Wow. What a great thing to experience when he is home." 

At EC ET Culture Camp in NH this summer -with an Abatee from Care Center

As we walked around this year. I stopped at the African Students Allaince table and started asking some questions about the photos. She didn't know where they were taken. I looked at them closer and said.. "Ghana?"  She shrugged, "I dont know really."


A 'woman' stood next to me. (She looked 14 but was carrying a baby on her hip) I said hello. And looked closer- she wasn't Ethiopian- but... something... somewhere close- "Sudan?" I asked.


"Yes. Yes!"  She looked at Teg, tightly buckled in stroller, "Is he Somali? or Ethiopian?"


"Yes, Ethiopian! He is Wolayta." (We often get the Somali question as our state has a the second highest population of Somali - outside of Somalia itself. I should add- we ONLY get questioned by folks actually from Africa.)


We talked for a bit. Exchanged names and emails to stay in touch. She offered to attempt to braid Teg's hair.



As we stopped to watch some of the dancing and singing perfomances- I looked around at the students who were absolutely reveling in the chance to show off their stuff. Admiring and honoring their friends work. It seemed so new. Such a rare experience for them that it was extra special. I was reminded where we live and I was sad.

One Moon Ethiopia. Together sharing food laughter dance song and joy- and INJERA!

And then immediately realized how lucky we are. Teg and I. Because this. This 'culturefest'- in truth was anything but. And yet, in the past year (-) we have experienced great culture of our own. Many Many Many Many opportunities to share with Ethiopians and Ethiopia-ness!  We've had some real experiences with young adoptive families and adult Ethiopian Americans. We are lucky. We may have to drive and have overnights in hotels to join in the fun- but we are lucky. Sometimes it is hard and difficult to put ourselves in that place- it must be done purposefully- but it is always worth it.


That one 3 hour event- was likely the only chance those students will have to show and share their culture until the event comes around again next year. I ached for them. And rejoiced for us.

Celebrating Meskel

Friday Confessions- Surreality

I admit-

• The times, they are a changing.

• That 5 weeks ago- as I drove to my sisters house- I was spiraling out of control. I was the worst person in the world. I was sure of it. I had lost all perspective on how to to parent the hurting child strapped in a safety seat. Someone had pulled the plug and I was heading down the drain.

• I now know, there was more than one drain plug that had been pulled.

• That one (1) week ago- I was overcome with... surreality. Is that a word? It was surreal. Overwhelmingly. How could this same ride be so very very very different? How could we- ME and HIM- as individuals- and US as a family- be so very different. Had it only been 4 weeks?!?!?!

• We are happy. Stable. Rested. Sane. Laughing. Together. Joyful. Safe. Trusting.

• That I started writing this post 3 Fridays ago so far, we are still on the good foot!

Cheating. Write or Wrong...

I've been cheating on you. Or the blog it self. You are not a blog. Nor are you a blob. Well, I am, but... that has no bearing on this short post.

You see- I've been writing. In other places. And in fact I have 2 more "writes" to add to the queue.

Yes the store wrap was still on it at this point....although many pages were already full

In Ethiopia, I started journaling about my experiences there.  When I got home, it was a means to chronicle events, struggles and milestones my son and I were living. But--- it was hard--- and felt--- not fruitful.  As I looked into the future of what I wanted my son to have--- this wasn't really it.


So that book. That book continues with Letters to our family in Ethiopia. Why not start a new one? It was with us. Both. Together. In that room. It is as much for them as it is for me. Lord only knows if and or when they will ever be able to read/have them. But they do give purpose and direction in my writing. I strongly suspect these letters, to Ethiopia, will assist greatly in my upcoming writing projects. 

There it is. In my hand along with a tissue pack.

For my son. For my son, I've started another handwritten journal. The paper is strong and hopefully durable. The pen is archival quality. I've purchased photo squares that are supposed to be acid free (I'm assuming this means it won't eat through the paper over time?).

I write, free hand. I write to the adult. To the young adult. I write to the young man who knows his mother loves him and all she could share- but holds questions and suspicious back, that aren't age appropriate to share- if ever.  That perhaps only have value when placed in a broader perspective that only time can provide. I write honestly. Opening up my questions about details and bits we may never know the answers to. I write of days past. Of children he knew. Children and families that held eachother together. I write of where they are now, and try to update when I have more info. I wonder if one day, he may want to find some of his old friends. One never knows the questions one will carry or the connections he'll crave for a lifetime.

I write of this first year. Of our time together. Of our experiences. Bonding. Fun. Laughter. Travels. Therapy. Friends. This year. This year of our life. THE year of my life - I suspect.

I write only, on one side of the open pages of this journal. I leave the opposing side blank- That space is for a photo. A photo related or representing the written word next to it.

I always struggle to motivate myself to write in this journal- but once I do- it flows so fast. I run out of time before words.

Two more writing assignments. Soon- Our first required annual report will be written by me and sent to Ethiopia (via Minnesota). About that same time- I will also be writing a more personal letter to our Ethiopian family. I suspect- given their physical distance from Hosanna, that sending both at the same time- gives them both a better shot at being delivered in a more timely manner.

Special. Carefully. Chosen. Words. With care for Translation. Big. Heavy. Stuff. As burdened as I sometimes feel, to write something that -- "HAS" to be done right... I'm excited for these two. I don't know why. But I am. I think everything will be easier- flow out of my brain smoother, once I can purge of all that those 2 entail. I want so much to write more than I'll ever be allowed. And yet- I wait with baited breath- anticipating the envelopes detailing instructions for submitting these "extra special letters".

My Heart is Full...

They say pictures are worth a thousand words. But- nothing, pictures or words can capture the emotion and milestones that these past five days has brought to our hearts. From realizing how new we are as a family, to- dancing, families, Ethiopia-ness, shared new experiences, special friends, old friends, reminiscing, hugs, kisses, comfort food, laughter.....

I know I haven't written in a while. There is so much to tell you. So much important stuff. So many moving. Touching. Eye opening moments.  Mostly I've been experiencing the most wonderful times with my son. A month- has brought us so far. SOOOOOOO Far! Together. 

Eyes wide open.

Lovin Auntie

 

Trains Trains and more Trains with Uncle

Rest and Contemplation

Joyful

Jubilee in the crisp wet fall air

Awe!

Excitement growing FAST as the train!!

SUBWAY. The train. Not the sandwich.

PENGUINS!

Myrtle the Turtle

Laughter

One Moon Ethiopia

Where did my little baby go?

Where to spend my time...

I had a day. A whole day. Half day of school followed by full afternoon of NanaPapaAlexDog fun and madness for the kiddo. Left me. With. A. Whole. Day.



What did I do??
Did I do 14 loads of laundry? No
Did I clean the bathroom? (which is seriously seriously filthy dirty smelly, as the dog was sick a couple days ago and I only did a cursory clean up)(Go ahead. Judge me.) No.
Did I clean up the dishes from last nights supper still sitting on the stove? No.
Did I make room for "MARGIN" by cleaning out the garage? No.
Did I make room for "Margin" by cleaning out the over cluttered can't find crap in them, kitchen drawers? No.
Did I change the bed sheets, which are overdue? No
Did I vacuum, which is overdue? No
Did I empty the trash? Yes but only partially as there is no new bag and it is still out in the entry way.
Did I go for a run, walk, meditate, read? No
Did I call a friend and catch up. NO. (Crap. Just remembering I was actually supposed to do that...)
Did I call and cancel the cable? No
Did I call Tegs Doctor with the list of questions and concerns that grows daily? No
Did I take apart this forsaken Futon taking up too much play room in my living room? No
Did I shower? No
Did I shave my legs? No
Did I pluck my eyebrows or exfoliate the pilings of dead skin on my face? No
Did I do anything to further the cause of readying the house for winter? No
Did I clean out the car? No
Did I research any new jobs? No
Did I network, or pluck away at my resume? No
Did I cook any meals? No
Did I do anything that is on the list of things that MUST BE DONE? No

This is what I did.

It took hours to go get it. Take it apart. Clean it. Poke holes in strategic places as it had been left outside my uncles house in a rain storm and was retaining water worse than me. Drained the water ... ever. .... so... slowly...  And then put it back together.

As he arrived home to a 'surprise'. He insisted he would sleep in Thomas bed. Pray in Thomas bed. Read in Thomas Bed. Look at Thomas' face 100 times. And then his "Hat" 100 times (it doesn't really have a hat- but the 'pipe' is on top of his face so.. of course it's a hat....?) It matters not to this boy that the mattress is too small and actually sits on the floor covered with sleeping bags. Didn't detract from his joy at ALL!

It was PJ day at school so it's just a coincidence but a nice one!

Mommy crawled in Thomas to read our night time book together. And yet immediately after bottle....

"My sleep Mommy's Bed".... and out. Hand landing with a loud slap and gripping my hair.

 He is still over the moon ecstatic, skipping, gleeful, yammering on and on about it, to it, crawling all over it, in it, taking books out of and putting back in to its little "container" (toy box), fawning over his face, joyful at the roof..... But there is now actual sleeping involved as of yet. So I'm not sure it qualifies as a 'bed'.

Melatonin...

Note: I am not a doctor I only play one in my own home- nothing I suggest should be taken as literal or even factual for that matter.

What Melatonin has done for our family...

• I can parent my kid at night
• I can sooth my child at night
• I can rock my child at night
• I can hold my child without regret
• I can talk to my child without fear of it adding 30 minutes till sleep
• I can sing to my child again
• We can revisit the days activities with smiles and laughter 
• We can talk about what tomorrow brings and it ends with a kiss, a snuggle, and laying still until sleep visits and is welcomed in.

I can not begin to say all the ways Melatonin has helped us. ... take the edge off. I admit, to giving him this before bed. Although it was suggested by our therapist and agreed to by ped. It has taken a long time to get the right stuff and the right amount for him. At first too much and he was in REM for almost 12 hours straight, eyes almost wide open, thrashing, moaning, laughing, kicking, having apparently many very active dreams involving boxing or kickball?- while mommy spent the nights avoiding elbows, knees and kicking feet. I even had a fat lip once.

I've lowered the dose substantially. To the point, one would wonder if it really is having any effect at all. It is. Trust me.

A slightly higher dose would get him to sleep faster, but in the morning, he'd hit the ground pushing limits. As if, he felt so out of control, he had to "take it back" in the morning.

My co sleeper, was an active "fight the sleep" guy. Doing painful, ridiculous and hard to watch stuff just to NOT go to sleep. Some of these things were so so so so so hard to watch or be subjected to- that I admit- many of our sleep failures (ok- all of them) were directly related to my inability to PARENT him pre sleep.

Many- ok- MOST of all my MOMMY FAIL moments are related to this time around sleep. And going through what we are now, I realize, had stunted his ability to let the security in- because- in all honesty- there were many times I was Unpredictable (i.e. not consistent) and and Ugly (i.e. not nurturing) watching this very frustrating and painful thing happen to my son and NOT KNOW HOW TO HELP!

I hope we are soon in a place where he feels secure enough that we can go without using this, but for now.... call me a bad mother if you want to.... but the truth is, I can now parent him properly and he can let me.