Five Hours with a Two-Week-Old

We did some pinch hitting the other night for another foster family. A two-week-old blob spent the evening sleeping, drinking, peeing, and burping in our house.

The kids were fascinated.

Sunshine wants to know when we are going to get one. (never)

Speed is irritated that boys can't have babies in their tummies. "That not fair! You say girls can wear a boy tie so boys have babies in their tummies. That fair." (life's not fair, dude)

Chickadee was interested and stayed very close. Multiple times over the evening, she would snuggle up beside me and say: "I Mommy's baby." Yes, you are.  "I Mommy's baby." Yup, you got it. Over and over.

First words out of her mouth when she woke up the next morning: That baby gone yet?

Five hours may have been just enough for the two of us to be around the tiny guy.

Even Speed Agrees

Speed asked me a question last night. I don't remember what it was, but Sunshine gave the answer.

"How come Sunshine know so much? Her always answer the question."

In awe, rather than in irritation, so that's good.

Parenting Fail

Question from Speed:
"How babies get in your tummy? Mommies and Daddies play and eat and then the baby grows?"
--Um, something like that.

Response from Sunshine:
"But WE play and eat and WE don't have babies in our tummies!"

Again, who needs Mommy when Sunshine is around?

(For the record, I did not describe "playing or eating" in our previous talks. We have only recently approached the idea that there needs to be a Daddy of some sort in the mix.)

Fur Hides Everything

Today at the breakfast table:

Speed: Does Stubby have a penis?
Sunshine: Yea, Mommy calls him a boy so he have a penis. You only a girl if you have a vagina.
Speed: Where IS it?
Sunshine: He have a lot of fur. It's under there somewhere.

Who needs Mommy when Sunshine is around?

Settling into Second Place

I have more than once read that adoption is the distant second place to staying (or returning) to one's family of origin. Distant. Second.


So we are here. Roughly four months past our adoptions and we are settling into second. I was worried with Junebug's exit that the kids would think they were leaving. Or wish they were leaving. Or wonder why things worked out differently for them than for her. None of that has happened so far as best I can tell. Instead, they keep bugging for another "friend".

Second place feels pretty much the same as fostering the three amigos for the most part. Except seeing their new last name still weirds me out. Except we don't have people visiting us every month and I can leave meds unlocked for now. Except that behaviors and challenges have moved OUT with 26 other children, but for these three, we get to plow through everything and hope that we do our best in working through all that we have on our plate.

We went to the "haircut store" tonight where everyone knows the kids' names, asks permission if they can offer the kids candy because they know I am a stickler, lets them go back behind the counter to watch more closely. The manager treats Speed as though he is the king for the 5 minutes it takes her to shave his head. Sunshine is plotting to work there when she is "a big girl" because she wants to sweep up all the hair. (ick) Every time one of them plans what they are going to do when they get bigger/grow up, I think: Yup, and I will get to see you do that.

Second place sucks only in that it shouldn't even exist. For the kids, first place should have been a given. When first place failed once, people should have rallied to make first place work. I imagine all of us will have to process that failure of the Firsts for the rest of our lives. But now that we are here, I think second is a perfect place to snuggle in and see what our lives will hold, regardless of how losing first has affected all four of us.

FaceTime with Junebug

Looks a lot like a ceiling fan spinning while we listen to Junebug name whomever she sees on the screen.

"MY Speed."
"MY Sunshine."
"MY Chickadee."
"Where my mommy?"

The other night the kids were already asleep when Junebug called. So who did she get to talk to?

"MYYYYY Stubby!!!"

Speed's Sisters

Conversation between Speed and his new therapist today:

Her: Do you have sisters?
Him: Yes.
Her: How many?
Him: Three. No, two. Um, no three. Junebug doesn't live with us anymore but she still always a sister.

Stereotyping

Speed: Sunshine, do you want to be on my football team?
Sunshine: No.
Speed: Why? Cuz you busy cooking?
Sunshine: Yes.