Methodical Missy

Just a mom in Texas that wants to die knowing I lived life to the fullest. This is mostly my attempt to keep my family & friends up to date on what's going on at our house. If you're one of those people that don't like personal blogs, I'm not here to entertain your a$$, so just move on.

Monday, March 05, 2007

February-March Adoption Update

Written in late Jan 2007

The Good, The Bad and The Ugly

The honeymoon period is definitely over. The first week home was filled with fun, games and lots of hugs and kisses. The boys worked hard to lock in their place in our hearts and once they settled in, the real fun began! If talk of poopy diapers offends you, just skip the first couple paragraphs.

Lets dive right in with The Bad
DW’s potty training has been somewhat…hmm…what’s the best word…interesting?? If we guide him to the toilet several times a day, he’ll generally comply and drop a little donation to the sewer god. Yay! Other times, it’s not this easy as he prefers the comfort of his own home when he feels the desire to “go”. This, I can deal with. After all, you’re talking about the parents that would leave a restaurant in the middle of a meal to rush Grace home at 100 MPH because, “OMG! She has to go and she wants THE TOILET!” The difficult part is when he does #2 in his pull-up and doesn’t tell us. I’m using the #2 term loosely as it looks more like a mixture of 1 & 2 that has been stirred into a soupy mess AND HE’S HAPPY TO SIT IN IT. To add do the dilemma; the poor thing has had several bouts of diarrhea. For reasons I cannot explain, HAZMAT has blocked my number, so I’ve become somewhat creative when it comes to cleaning DW’s underpants. The first time, I just wrapped up the package with the Spiderman print and threw it in the trash. After realizing I couldn’t keep tossing underwear, I threw them in the backyard to be hosed down later, which I conveeeeniently forgot about. There’s nothing like surprising your hubbie with frozen poopie pants when he’s going outside to cook hamburgers.

This brings me to my next challenge, lactose intolerance. Here’s a glimpse into the day we discovered it.
Cop-hubby to DW: DW, Do you have poopie pants?
DW shakes head no.
Cop-hubby: Are you sure?
DW shakes head yes.
Cop-hubby to Missy: Um, I think DW needs a diaper change
Me: Ok. I think I have an appt to get splinters shoved under my fingernails. Bye! See ya later! Nice to know you!
Cop-hubby takes DW for a change.
Note: a change after #2 always involves a bath because no matter how good the diaper is, it was not made to corral soupy #2. To get a good visual (like you haven’t heard enough already), just picture DW standing in the tub, while we, (oops, I mean Cop-hubby) take the removable nozzle and hose him down.
Cop-hubby calls Foster Dad
Cop-hubby: Hey Sergio. Sooo…DW has been experiencing severe bouts of the big D and I don’t mean divorce. Is he by annnny chaaance, possibleeee lactose intolerant?
FD: Oh yeah. I forgot to tell you. DW can’t drink much milk or he gets sick.
Cop-hubby: Really? Well, it might have been nice to know that.

Next on the list of challenges is breaking down the walls that DJ has built. DJ’s greatest desire in life is to be loved by mom. I mean, of course every child wants that, but, I think he’d be content to sit in my lap all day, while I kiss his forehead and scratch his back. Definitely a momma’s boy. The problem lies in when DJ gets in trouble. DJ’s motto is DENY. DENY. DENY. He could take a toy from DW right in front of us, but if we ask him if he did so, he flatly denies it. I don’t think he lies on purpose. He is just scared to death of getting in trouble. Once he realizes he’s caught, the walls come up. His head lowers and his eyes gaze toward nothing in particular in the distance. Once he enters this state, he hears absolutely nothing you say. We suggested shock therapy to CPS, however, they weren’t too keen on that idea, especially since Cop-hubby’s taser wasn’t designed for such use. [KIDDING!] So, lots of TLC is in order to slowly draw him out.

DJ also cries at the drop of a hat. He can turn the tears on and off like a faucet. I’m planning on putting him into acting, so he can one day make billions of dollars and buy Cop-hubby and I our dream house in Costa Rica. The sound he makes when he’s shedding his crocodile tears is enough to break your eardrums (HA! You thought I was going to say break your HEART). This isn’t because it’s loud, but because you’re so sick of hearing it that your eardrums want to spontaneously rupture to keep from having to listen to one more second of it. It’s like a child saying Moooo, but cut off the “M” and just say the “ooooooo” part. See what I mean? All you non-parents out there aren’t allowed to judge me for saying that. Come spend a day with me and I guarantee I can turn you to the dark side.

DW is easy going most of the time, but he is hilarious when he’s mad. He crosses his arms, leans on one leg & pushes a hip out, wrinkles his brows and puts on his biggest frown. He looks like a miniature man when he does this.
DW is also unbelievable clumsy. If we get a swing set, it will be the death of me. At one point, he was featuring a black eye (DJ hit him with a bat), a scratch down the side of his face (leaning on coffee table only to fall off the edge), a knot on his forehead (bumped heads with DJ) and a knot on the back of his head (bumped heads with DJ again). He looked like a boxer or a hockey player. The bruising is now gone, but I have him wearing a helmet around the house every day until Depelchin comes for their first check up on the 29th.

Now The Good
Eating has gotten much better. DW eats EVERYTHING and DJ no longer looks at green vegetables like they're something the aliens left on our doorstep. We’re getting closer to the ultimate test of being a good eater, swallowing spinach! Crying before bedtime is also getting better. I’ve introduced the boys to Lifetime Fitness and they looove to go to the gym with me. Lifetime = leverage. Time out = NO LIFETIME FOR YOU!! Monster truck shows are also great leverage, especially if you don’t really want to go in the first place and your husband is forcing you at gun point.
Every morning when I leave for work, the boys yell, “I love you Mommy” about 5x each until I’m in the garage. When we come home, no matter how bad my day is, it all melts away when I have six little arms wrapped around my legs and my waist that belong to three kids so delighted to see me. Remember that commercial with the puppies that are crawling all over the child in the grass? Well, it’s kind of like that, except, it’s not puppies, & try as I might to act like one once in a while, I’m not a child and well, our floors are wood and tile, so there’s not much chance of me rolling around on them. Oh yeah, and the kids don’t lick my face. THANK GOODNESS!

Shannon has been wonderful. Not only does she help with the kids, but she has also helped plan meals, clean house, do homework and she’s my always-willing workout buddy. It’s totally unrealistic for any woman to be able to do it all. (I.E. Give 100% at work, at home and still not forget yourself in the process) There is just not enough time in the day no matter how gifted you are. If you are one of the few that haven’t been able to make it to the house, I implore you to please schedule your visit before August. If you wait until September, when Shannon has moved out, I cannot guarantee the house will be in decent shape. Also, you will be required to sign a release when you enter in case you trip and fall on a toy & split your head open like I almost did last night. Said toy almost made it into the garbage can.

DJ and DW have impeccable manners…when they’re not arguing with each other. They say, “Bless you” when you sneeze, “excuse me” if they need to get by and, “I’m sorry” if they accidentally bump into you. They also sit patiently at the table until everyone is done eating. These two boys are also very close. Even though we are a family, they have a special bond. They constantly tell each other, “I love you”. The other day, after DJ came out of time-out: tears still in his eyes, and DW came over to put his arm around DJ’s shoulders.

Grace is still trying to be the mommy. One minute she’ll be reading to them, or teaching them some new trick and the next she’ll be threatening to put them in time out for trespassing into her room. One night, she wanted affirmation that she was our REAL daughter and I had to explain that all our children are our REAL children. After a particularly hard day, she asked if we could return them. When Cop-hubby told her that wasn’t possible, she said, “How about just keeping one?” Her opinion about the boys varies depending on what day you ask her. Overall, I think she’s glad they’re here. She reads to them and kisses them goodnight every night.

This last month has been very stressful. Between DJ only wanting mommy to do everything, the constant rain that keeps us from playing outside, the laundry that has to be done every other day, the cooking every night, the kids not going to sleep when they’re told and countless other things, we’re going non-stop until we collapse in bed at night. I confess that there was a 24-hour period where Cop-hubby and I kept our distance from each other. To be fair, any couple would probably be on edge after being together 10 days straight under strenuous circumstances. Aside from that one day, I can happily say this process has reinforced that we are a team. I have his back and he has mine. If I’m bathing the boys, he’s cleaning up after dinner. When I’m reading to them at night, he’s getting Grace’s teeth brushed. Honey, are you reading this? I love you!

The Ugly
Ok. Truthfully, there is no ugly. I mean. C’mon! The mere sight of them makes my heart explode into a million pieces. It’s all I can do to not drop to my knees with a giant bowl of ice cream and beg their forgiveness for all the vegetables I’ve made them eat and the toys I’ve made them pick up. I’m so mean.

We are still going through the bonding process, which is very hard to explain. One day you feel a tight bond and it’s as if the children have been yours all along. Other days, that bond weakens, you feel useless as a parent and you start to doubt that you have the ability to handle everything. It’s not easy at all. If you’re considering adoption, my best advice is to be 100% sure you are ready for the challenge. And you may want to start stocking your medicine cabinet with Valium. Or maybe some Ambien? Prozac? Well, at the very least, Bourbon.
March Update
For the longest time, I held on to the email above because things around here were changing at such a rapid pace, that everything I said was quickly out of date. I finally decided to just send it and add a little update at the end, so here it goes....

DW is officially potty trained and what a huge relief. Also, by process of elimination, we figured out he is also allergic to peanut butter.
Also, both boys have learned to love spinache, salads, and lots of other green stuff. All I have to do is tell them it will make their muscles grow strong and they gulp it down and check the size of their arms after each bite.
We bought a playground & Cop-hubby finished building it today. I've already had to use one ice pack and have several more waiting in the freezer.
DW is still clumsy. In the course of one outing at the zoo, he fell in the parking lot and skinned his knees, got hit in the head by a turnstile, rolled off a turtle statue and walked into a hand rail. [sigh]
Best of all, DJ has learned to talk through it when he gets in to trouble. We are seeing a lot less of the silent treatment out of him and he's much happier.
Lastly, things have become much easier. Cop-hubby and I are feeling more relaxed and settled in and all without the help of any of the drugs mentioned above.



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