Is he yours OR is he adopted?

I’m not trying to write another one of those posts wherein I marvel at the rude comments and questions from strangers. I know a lot, if not most of us, get them and so there’s no need to regularly rehash ignorance. There’s a happy ending here, and I want to remember it when the next 20 people with rude comments/questions annoy me.

Last week, Mattix was feeling particularly adorable and friendly. When he’s in this sort of mood, he is so dynamic and charming. He just has this way of engaging people, catching their attention, and cracking them up. It’s entertaining to watch because sometimes he wants people to notice him and other times, he gets annoyed when someone merely looks his way. And when he’s in one of his charmer moods, he still doesn’t want strangers to get too close or touch him. Unless he wants to give them five, then it’s okay… I know, I know, he’s quite opinionated and finicky.

So, last week he was in one such mood. He had just about everyone in the grocery store laughing and noticing him. When he does this, we usually get more questions about him. It’s either that people who wouldn’t have noticed us or paid us much attention suddenly realize the difference, or they feel more comfortable asking things that they really have no business asking (or at least not the way they often ask). On that day, four separate people asked about Mattix in the span of one hour. One woman – and she was only the second person ever to ask this way – asked where he was born. I know that she assumed he was adopted, and of course she could have been wrong and Mattix could have taken after  my husband if he were of a different ethnicity, but I feel like if someones gotta ask, when done tactfully, this is one of the better ways. Two other people asked in a less-than-appropriate manner, so I just smiled and moved on (I’m getting good at that). It was the employee who checked us out that pushed it.

She said, “Is he yours? OR is he adopted?

I thought about it for a minute. Because she obviously put me in a position to choose, I chose mine, so I said, “He’s mine.”

This troubled her. Here’s where people who don’t have tact don’t realize that they should leave it alone. I know this happens with more situations than just adoption. My mom recently read my a Dear Abby letter from a woman who has a whole gaggle of young bio girls, including infant twins. She was perturbed by all of the rude and inappropriate comments and questions she gets from strangers. Things like, “Oh my gosh, you sure have your hands full. You must be exhausted all the time. Wow. I can’t imagine having that many kids.” And, “Oh, are you going to keep trying until you get a boy? That’s a lot of girls”

HOWEVER, I think the difference here is that our kids *may* already have a bit of discomfort at different points in their lives about being (physically) different from their parents, and so constantly having it pointed out by strangers might just be a little unsettling. Or maybe not. It depends on the kid. But nonetheless, it’s just inappropriate.

Anyway, like I was saying, she just couldn’t let it go. So she said, “Well, what ethnicity is his father?”

Not caring if we had another repeat of this incident, I said, “I don’t know.”

She was getting frustrated and said, “So he’s adopted then.”

Seriously?

I responded, “Yes, he was born in Vietnam, we adopted him, and yes, HE. IS. MINE.” And I smiled, just because I’m really working on that nice thing.

She looked at me for about twenty awkward seconds and then I could see the light go off. I’m pretty sure it was the first time this has happened. She smiled and said, much more kindly and less aggressively, “Well, I’ll bet he’s a huge blessing.”

FINALLY!

The next few posts should be a little more interesting with pictures and whatnot. We have a fun week planned.

Look What I Did…

First of all, thank you so much to Tina, Kerry, and Karen for also nominating me (or “nominating me back” – love you, Karen) for the Smile Award. Thanks for thinking of me, girls! You know that you make me smile all the time!

Second, Kelly has organized a prayer time tonight for Gina, who has actually been waiting longer to be united with her boys than we did for Mattix.

This is from Kelly’s blog:

HEY!  HEY YOU!  Stop what you’re doing.  I have an idea.  It’s not so crazy.  Let’s ALL plan to STOP WHAT WE’RE DOING TONIGHT AT 8 PM central time and say a prayer for Gina and Keith that they will get their approval to travel to Vietnam and complete the adoption of their sons Sam and Eli.

Gina’s family is on MONTH TEN. That’s right, she and her husband and their girls have been waiting to bring home their adorable boys, Sam and Eli, for two months short of a year. I was a wreck and in a tremendously fragile emotional state at nine months and I never would have wished that pain on anyone, especially someone who I consider a friend. It’s hard to imagine what it’s like to know who your child (or children) is (are) and not be able to be with them for so long unless you’ve been through it.  Anyway, check out Kelly’s blog and if you believe in prayers, please say one for Gina and Keith and their boys tonight at 8:00. If you’re not a prayer person, you can still participate. Please take a minute to think of them at that time. They need their travel date, um, five months ago.

Third, look what I did:

 

 

Oops. I bought something for a baby that seems so far away and abstract that I truly haven’t thought much about her. She’s probably not even born yet and I feel much like I did before we had Mattix’s referral: removed. I know that’s not normal. I’ll write about that stuff soon because for a while, I did think a lot about our second adoption, but more in terms of ethics and in light of all the things I know now that I did not know then (while we were waiting for Mattix’s referral). I sort of tortured myself before my mom laid it out for me and told me I’d either have to stop, or stop proceeding with the adoption. So I stopped.  But like I said, another post entirely.

Anyway, before I saw Mattix’s photo, I did not buy a single thing. Nothing. Not one piece of clothing, not one thing for a nursery, nothin’. I just didn’t feel a connection because I had yet to see my baby’s face. I went on with my life as it had been before and answered people’s questions with the same boring response every time, “I don’t know!” *****  Once I saw Matty for the first time…well, all that went out the window and I made up for lost time. And of course when we were unable to travel for a ridiculously long time, I went through hell. Abstract is one thing. A known child that is waiting for you? Totally different.

This adoption has been very much like the last for me as far as the pre-referral part of the wait.  It’s distant and abstract and hard for me to wrap my mind around. Until I see our girl’s face for the first time, I guess I’m sorta detached. (Please hope that we don’t face the same challenges with a travel date. I can tell you now that I probably couldn’t get through that again, and so I’m going to stay positive and hope things go more smoothly as far as that part goes.)  

I know, I know, I’m an adoption anomaly and freak. I get that.  I think we’re about two and a half months into waiting (I had to go back to my post where I announced we were DTE to figure that one out). I have no idea where we fall on the wait list, how things are moving, etc. Our agency suggested we could contact them once a month to find out our status, but this early in the game, I just don’t feel the need to do that. See? I’m a freak. Maybe I’ll do it next month sometime just so I can feel normal. At the time we submitted our dossier, we were told that people who were getting referrals at that time had been waiting for a child of the same age and gender that we requested for about seven months. However, I think it goes without saying that over those seven months, wait times certainly increased. This agency doesn’t seem to make any unrealistic promises with referral times, which, as I’m sure many of you would agree, is a breath of fresh air. I’d rather be told how long people have waited to date, the truth about increasing wait times, and any other realistic info than have a puff of smoke blown up my a$$. But that’s just me.  

Back to the point.  I was in a children’s boutique with my mom the other day, shopping for Mattix. Like always, the girls clothes were in the front. I think shops do that on purpose. I love my boy more than anything in the world, but let’s be honest, girls clothes are cuter than boys. Or maybe it’s just that there are FAR more options for girls that are super cute, whereas with boys clothes, I feel like you really have to look to find the good stuff. No worries, I manage to make it happen, but you know what I mean. So I walked into the store and saw the two cutest dresses with matching bloomers EVER. And because it they were having an end of summer sale, I bought them. I just had to have them. They’re so cute! My mom told me not to do it, that it was a slippery slope, blah, blah, blah, but these dresses were just too adorable to pass up.  Then I got home and felt strange.

So now I have two dresses in size 12-18 months for a child that will join our family in no less than a year – probably much longer – and I’m feeling like a total dork.  I have no idea if the sizes will be season appropriate or whether they’ll work at all. They’re setting on the couch and I’m trying to figure out what I was thinking. I guess I’ll just hang them in the office closet and wait until we turn it into a nursery – after we have a referral – and forget about them for the time being. What’s wrong with me?! 

At least they’re cute, right?!

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***** I just wanted to note that I would feel very, very different if we were facing a deadline, as so many families did with September 1st. When we began the VN program, shortly after it opened, there wasn’t a definitive end looming over us. Now with Ethiopia, it appears that the program is currently stable.

Reminders

Some days, you are reminded just how lucky you are, just how great your life is. Today, I received a such a reminder.

Last night was a long, rough one. Mattix has a cold, but when he went to bed, I thought he just had allergies. So I put him to bed without giving him any Benadryl or Motrin. He was more or less up all night, every 15-30 minutes, crying or moaning. By 6:00 this morning, when he was permanently awake for the day, I was tired. Really tired. And on my way to being cranky.

It’s funny. Mattix still does not sleep through the night (home nine months and counting and wondering if it will ever happen), but things are nothing like they were for the first few months when he was literally awake, out of bed, screaming or crying every 20 minutes to an hour. Back then, after I’d done it for a few weeks, I got past the vomiting every morning, dangerously close to passing out in the shower feeling, and I just functioned on adrenaline. Or something. But now that I’m getting six or so hours of sleep each night, interrupted only a few times, it hurts when I don’t get any at all. I laid in bed for a few minutes this morning, listening to him babble, trying to prepare myself for a rough day. I didn’t feel well, and because he didn’t get much sleep either, in addition to having a cold, I figured Mattix was going to be a handful, to put it nicely.

I walked into his room and was greeted by the biggest smile ever. He looked up at me, said, “Up, up, up” (courtesy of Yo Gaba Gaba, by the way) and threw his arms in the air. I picked him up and the first thing he did was grab my cheeks, squeeze them, and kiss me. Then he just held on. For a minute or so. And I wondered if maybe today was going to be okay.

His nose was both stuffed up and running like sieve at the same time. He had a cough and a slight fever. I knew he didn’t feel well. But what did he do? Kiss me again, laugh while I changed his diaper, and hug me for a second time when i picked him up. We walked out to the loft and he said, “Up, up, up” while pointing at the television, which translates to “I would like to watch Yo Gaba Gaba, please.” (Yes, all of our hard work encouraging Mattix to watch television has paid off a bit. He loves ONE single episode of YGG and watches it once a day. He has the entire thing memorized and will let me know what’s coming in the next segment seconds before it begins. Adorable.)

So we sat down and watched all 22 minutes of YGG together. We sang, danced, did the funny faces, pretended to jump up and down, spun in circles, and hung out. It was fun and sweet and I loved it. We went hiking with my friend/neighbor Kedra, who Mattix adores. He made sure she knew it today, too, which made her day almost as much as it made mine. Mattix has captured a lot of hearts over the past nine months.

We came home and showered. He let me know how much fun he was having the entire time. He cracked me up because he decided today was the day he was going to shower with my scrubby. Nothing cuter than your little guy, scrubbing his baby belly, concentration face in full effect, with a giant blue body loofah that’s almost as big as his head. We got dressed, and while I was trying to pull an outfit out of the closet for him, I was interrupted four times by “Mmmmmmmm,” accompanied by those adorable little pursed lips, begging for a kiss. He let me dig his buggers out with a Q-tip without kicking and fighting. He laid in my lap and repeated, “Eeeewwwwww!” every time i said it in a joking manner and laughed along with me. This is usually very stressful for both of us, but necessary so he can breathe.

We left, and for the first time since we came home from out trip in August, he was happy in the car. He sang and babbled and talked to me. He tried to get a few kisses, but I obviously wasn’t able to comply.

The grocery store was the highlight of my month. At least my month. Maybe more. He talked to me, he laughed at and with me, he shared food with me, he said “please” and “thank you,” which sound like “peeze’ and “tank too,” each and every time I handed him a cracker. He turned on his charm and had just about every other shopper in the store engaged at some point.  But he didn’t want anyone to get too close.

Things kept getting better. I shopped extra, just so we wouldn’t have to leave. He rubbed my hands as I pushed the cart, reached up and touched my cheek.  When we finally made it out to the car and it was time to pull Mattix out of the cart, he wrapped his legs around me, held on tight, and just hugged me. Then he pulled back, looked at me, smiled, and said, “MAMA!” in that voice he uses that brings tears to my eyes.

He stayed awake on the ride home – we were treading dangerously into sleepy time territory and if he falls asleep in the car these days, there’s no nap to be had once we’re home. We came in, got a bottle, and went upstairs. He kissed me just before I laid him in the crib. He smiled at me. He giggled. i walked out and cried.

How did I get this lucky?

The rest of our day was strikingly similar. We went out for lunch with my mom and then ran a few errands. Once we were home, we took a walk with his Cadillac Wagon. We played on our HOA’s playground, which is just down the street. We ran in the grass, hand in hand, up and down the hills, and he laughed so hard he couldn’t catch his breath. He ran until he was literally breathless, then had me pick him up. He never does this when we’re out because he’s far too busy. He didn’t cry when I told him it was time to go home. Instead, he climbed right in the wagon and pulled the straps around his waist and waited for me to buckle them. He sang on the way home.

He ate his dinner with a huge smile on his face. He wanted more grapes and so instead of the often-used grunt and yell technique , he said, “Magoo!” which means more. (Don’t ask. I’ll post about it later. It’s the cutest thing ever.)

After dinner, we went upstairs to get him ready for bed. I had to give him Benadryl, which usually means a fight, a lot of spitting, and a little gagging. Tonight, he held onto the dropper with me and swallowed the full dose. Then I put away the diapers i had bought and he helped, babbling the whole time. The way he looked up at me while I put on his nighttime diaper and his onesie made me heart melt into a puddle in my chest. He requested three or four kisses. He handed me his bottle so that I could pull the onesie over his head. When he was ready to have it back, he said, “milk!” which he pronounces, “mmmmmulk!” and smiled sweetly. When I finally put him in his crib, he wanted one last kiss. I climbed up the side of the crib, leaned over, and felt like the luckiest mom in the world. The last moment of my perfect day with him was so special.

It’s easy for me to get caught up in day to day life. It’s easy for me to feel tired and overwhelmed because Mattix isn’t always the easiest child to parent. He is smart – very, very smart – and independent and he challenges me often. It’s easy to forget to take the time to think about what I have. i have so, so much. I have a child that I love more than anything in the world. And I’m pretty sure he loves me, too.

Things weren’t easy in the beginning. This shouldn’t be surprising because I’ve always been honest about that. I bonded to Mattix immediately, but I did not attach to him right away.  I loved him the minute I met him, but I did not attach to him like a mother attaches to her child. His circumstances before he came to us made that impossible. I was on autopilot, doing what was necessary to help him adjust to us, to trust us, to feel safe, to help diminish the anger, the fear, the confusion. I’m not at all sorry about that because it was necessary. If I had too many emotions at the time, it would have taken even longer for him to get where he is now. He needed what we were able to do. Every once in a while, practicality has a place over emotions. Boy did he come to the right family!

But now? Now that I know him the way I do, the way that he has captured my heart, filled my soul, made me fall in love with him? I couldn’t fathom doing what we did again, because my heart would crack into a million little pieces every day. i would be crippled by the pain.  And so I’m eternally grateful that for a while, I did feel like i was babysitting. I felt like I was babysitting the baby of a friend or relative about whom I cared deeply. But not my baby. I didn’t know this baby. This baby didn’t know me.  I knew what I was supposed to do, but knowing and feeling are two different things.

Over the past nine months, Mattix has become MY baby, my son, my life. Now I don’t just know, I feel. And it feels amazing.

Today, Mattix reminded me to stop and think about these things, to take a minute to remember how I desperately wanted to go to work (outside the home) for the first few months. i used to spend a lot of time trying to figure out how long i had to be at home full time before it would be okay for me to change our plans. Today, he reminded me to take a moment to realize that right now, at this moment, that’s the last thing I could do. I love this job.

I love him so much.

Concentration

Mattix is all over the place, all day long. He just has a lot of energy and is very interested in the world. He often goes around, pointing at object after object, pausing in between “points” while he waits for me to tell him what it is that he is pointing at. Now that he’s really starting to talk, he’ll often repeat the word. The word of the day yesterday was vacuum. (I finally admitted to myself that the floors were bordering on the unsanitary, so I vacuumed. Yuck. No fun, slow chore, b/c Mattix loves the vacuum. He follows me around, throws himself on the floor in front of the vacuum, and lays there on his stomach, LICKING or touching it, while I beg him to move so that I can actually use it. Maybe I should be worried? I dunno. Maybe it’s because I use two different Dy*sons, and they come in those super bright, semi annoying colors and look like plastic space ships. And the downstairs one with the ball is probably pretty cool because he’s obsessed with balls. But the licking? I don’t get it. 

Anyway, despite his high energy, when he chooses to, he can really, truly concentrate on something for a long time. The latest is sitting in his high chair when he’s done eating, without the tray, so that he can attempt to buckle and unbuckle his straps.  I have to sit right there the whole time (he could fall out, then we’d have a Brit*ney Spe*ars moment, although it was her nanny that let her six month old fall out of the high chair, so I guess that would make me worse, if that’s possible). Sorry, sidetracked.  I sit there and watch him and it amazes me. This super high energy kid can hold still and do it for up to half an hour. He just concentrates so intently.

This is the concentration face. Matty pushes his little head down, showing his adorable double chin, and purses his lips. i love to watch him. When he is truly engrossed in something he is doing, his attention span is incredible. His commitment is serious. He’s just so amazing. And really, really freaking cute.

(excuse the food on his face. when mattix decides he’s working on the buckles, there’s no cleaning of the face until he’s done. not my rules.)

and just because i love his profile…

The Smile Award…for me!

Chandra at Our Little Russian has given me an award! I’m quite honored!  Although Chandra was nice enough to say that I crack her up every time she reads. I’m pretty much thinking that this award is for making people smile in a good way, but I’m guessing that I make people smile when they laugh AT me. I’m totally comfortable with that.  I’d laugh at me, too, if i were you guys. I do a lot of stupid things now that I think about it. I squeeze myself into Spanx with holes in the crotch, I wear white pants that I bleed all over in the middle of the mall, I get myself locked out of my house by my 17 month old child, I peel avocados like bananas, and I forget to feed Mattix lunch. And I’m dumb enough to tell everyone. 

Anyway, I really appreciate it, Chandra! And if anyone deserves this, it is definitely Chandra because she always makes me smile with her realistic positivity and kindness.  So, onto the details:

Characteristics for the Smile Award:
1. Must display a cheerful attitude.
2. Must love one another.
3. Must make mistakes.
4. Must learn from others.
5. Must be a positive contributor to blog world.
6. Must love life.
7. Must love kids.

These are the rules for The Smile Award.
1. The recipient must link back the the award’s creator
2. You must post these rules if you receive the award.
3. You must chose 5 people to receive the award after receiving it yourself.
4. You must fit the characteristics of the recipient of the award, as posted by Mere.
5. You must post the characteristics of a recipient.
6. You must create a post sharing your win with others.
7. You must thank your giver.

So, following are the five people that I choose (this was hard, BTW, b/c there are way more than five people that make me smile every single time they post). Oh, and they are in NO particular order.

(1) Kelli. Kelli is back from a blog break, thank goodness, because I missed her and I know lots of other people did, too.  If you’ve read Kelli’s blog for any length of time, you know that she has all of the characteristics required for the award. She obviously loves life and kids - her job requires that! She’s a huge positive contributor to the blog world, and she’s definitely the first to admit when she makes a mistake. And she’s always crediting other people for what she has learned from them. I admire Kelli very much and feel lucky to “know” her.

(2) Karen. I feel like I don’t even need to explain why Karen deserves the award. I know her so well in real life and anybody else who has this privilege would agree that she always makes us smile.  Karen has an incredibly cheerful attitude, in addition just the right amount of sarcasm, humor, and light hearted-ness (I know this is my own word!). Even though, like me, Karen is always right (we’re women – hello!), she’s not too proud to acknowledge mistakes. She loves her son about as much as humanly possible. One of the things I admire very much about Karen (I know this isn’t related to the award, but I don’t care) is her strong sense of faith. She lives in such a away so as to follow her beliefs, but not to judge or criticize others. I’m not sure it’s common for people to have that much conviction and yet remain so uncritical of everyone around her. She reminds me of my mom in that respect and it’s a very, very admirable quality.  She’s someone I actually enjoy listening to when she speaks about her spirituality because of the way in which she shares her beliefs. And did I mention the lack of judgment? Really, there are so many people who could learn a lot from Karen. (I’m not making a snarky comment with anyone in mind. I truly mean that – Karen is a wonderful example.) Anyhoo, I love you, Karen.

(3) Gina. I know Gina and I know that Gina is going to say that she hasn’t smiled in goodness knows how long and that her blog is depressing these days, blah, blah, blah. But I would disagree. Gina’s sense of humor, which shines through even in really, really, really crappy times (you know, like waiting nine months so far for travel – she’s actually going to wait longer than our family, which is garbage, but that’s not what this is about). Like Karen, Gina has an admirable strong sense of faith. She makes me smile all the time. She’s always first in line to acknowledge mistakes and her contribution to the blogging world is very positive, even when she says she’s being down. Gina takes the loving one another thing to a whole new level, and I only wish that I could have half the kind heart that Gina possesses.  If you’re around Gina IRL, she has the ability to make you smile, even when her own situation makes it hard for her to smile. She still does, by the way (smile). Gina, it can’t be much longer.

(4) Elaine. Do I really even need to explain this? I think not. I’m sure you all read Elaine’s blog and therefore you know exactly why she deserves this. She often does more than make me smile. She makes me spit things out all over my computer. Elaine’s gotta love kids ’cause she has a lot of them!   I just really don’t think I need to say more because Elaine pretty much fits all of the characteristics above in most of her posts. And if you don’t read Elaine’s blog, seriously, where have you been? Kidding. Just be sure to check it out because you’ll appreciate her mix of honesty, humor, realism, sarcasm, and kindness.

(5) Jen. Jen is a smart woman who I admire. She’s funny, intelligent, kind, honest, a great mom, and a good person. And she cracks me up, all the time. Oh, and we have similar hair issues, but that really has nothing to do with this award! Jen offers a lot to the blog world. To me, she often offers the opportunity to think about how I wish I needed to gain weight instead of lose it b/c she shares good recipes for the little ones who need to put on a bit of weight. Although these recipes are for infants and toddlers, who wouldn’t want to eat things laden with cream and butter?  Okay, she offers more than that, but I spend a great deal of time thinking about what I want to eat, so, you know… Like the other gals I chose, Jen has a cheerful disposition without making me nauseous. She’s happy, positive, real, and supportive. All great qualities that make me smile. And that adorable little guy? How could you not smile when you see that?

So, what do you think, Chandra? Did I do a good job turning this into a super long post, like usual?!  Thank you again. Hope everyone’s week is off to a good start. I know mine is, now that I’m no longer worried sick about the Matty Bug!

Update on Mattix’s appointment

Thank you guys so much for the emails and comments asking about Mattix. I haven’t been on the computer all weekend, so I haven’t had a chance to respond to emails. Thank you for caring. I mean it.

We’re very, very fortunate and the relief I feel is immense. While the lump does have to be removed, the surgeon is as confident as possible that it’s not something about which to be extremely concerned.  I felt a huge amount of stress just leave my body at the end of our appointment. It will be removed and biopsied, of course, but there real is no concern that it’s anything dangerous. I know that there’s always a teeny, tiny, itty, bitty chance he could be wrong, but I believe that in this case, the possibility is so remote that I’m not going to waste any energy thinking about it. Although I knew that it was probably nothing, that doesn’t mean I could just not worry about it. I was having scary, irrational thoughts and now I can stop! 

We are going to DC at the end of the month and of course the next available morning surgery date was the day we leave. So, we’ve scheduled it for the end of October. Again, even though it has to be removed, it’s not pressing and so waiting a little over a month is not a big deal. I’m so grateful that the surgeon is not even remotely concerned that I’m not going to whine about having to shave the back of Mattix’s head. Okay, I’m going to complain a little, but it’s petty and it doesn’t matter. I think my issue with the hair is that, like they do with so many kiddos in orphanages for obvious and valid reasons, Mattix’s head was shaved multiple times and so his hair was sparse and thin when he came home. And more significantly, one of his self soothing behaviors was literally ripping out ALL of the hair on the front side sections of his head. I would sit there and restrain him because when I didn’t, he would literally have clumps of hair in his tiny little hands. Watching that hair grow in finally was big for me because it meant that, at first, he was doing that less and less, and eventually, he wasn’t doing it at all. For parents who have seen their children do this, in addition to hitting themselves in the head or other behaviors that are hard to watch, I think you probably know what I mean. I would notice that the hair was growing and thank God that he was making progress.

Anyway, Mattix is young enough that he obviously won’t care and so this is my issue and again, it’s not a big deal. What you can expect is that Mattix will be sporting a REAL mohawk the week of his surgery. No way am I going to let them shave off the back and leave the rest at the hospital. Uh uh. We’re going in and having his new “stylist” (ha ha) give him a real mohawk before we got in for surgery.

I will admit to being nervous about putting him under anesthesia and about him being in pain afterwards. The surgeon assured me that the whole thing will take less than an hour, which means not too much time under, and that he will recover without difficulty. But you know how it is when you’re a mom. You just wish it could be happening to you instead of your baby. I would do anything to have that stupid lump on my head.

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Today we went to a first birthday party for my cousin’s son. They rented this huge, inflatable slip n’ slide setup. Remember when we were kids and we had to slide down the piece of yellow thin plastic on the grass into the little “pool” at the end? If you jumped too hard, you bruised your chest, and if you went too far, you had grass burn on the entire front side of your body. And if you were really unfortunate, you went head first into something. Well, things certainly have changed. (Goodness, I sound old.) Now, it’s huge (the part the kids slide on was at chest level). It’s open on the end they climb in and closed on the other to prevent them from sliding off.  Mattix LOVED it. There were lots of big kids playing and Mattix had to settle for Ed bouncing him up and down on the side. But when it was time for cake, all the kids disappeared for half an hour and Matty had the whole setup to himself. He had so much fun.  I wish we would have brought one of the nicer Nikkons, but neither of us thought of it, so the pictures aren’t that great (I keep a small Kodak point and shoot in my purse all the time, just in case.) He had watched the big kids sliding, so he would run down it, then throw himself on his chest and actually slide a good distance. He also fell backwards on accident a bunch of times. He would land flat on his back and crack up. Mattix entertained my dad, Ed, and I for a long time.

We knew Matty wasn’t going to be pleased when the big kids came back and we had to take him off, but I had no idea we were going to break his little heart. I was expecting a fit; instead, my little guy just sobbed his heart out. It was sooo sad and so cute at the same time. He recovered just fine, though!

Later, we gave him a Tootsie Pop. He just cracked me up, the way he wandered around, casually taking licks and hanging out.

 

Sorry for the photo overload. I was actually sort of selective! Mattix’s cousin, who is only two week older than him (and who was adopted domestically at 2.5 months), has him by almost TEN pounds. She knocked him down and took his Tootsie Pop. He tried to stay strong, but he started to cry after he realized she wasn’t giving it back. It was so funny and so cute. No worries, though. MaMaw made sure he got it back!

Childproofing with Melmo

Sorry for the absence. Thank you for the comments and emails checking in on us! I’ve been sick since Monday and still am. Some strange stomach type bug, but it doesn’t make any sense. I’m super nauseous, cannot eat (obviously something’s very wrong here), light headed to the point where I have to sit down or I’ll pass out, but I don’t actually ever vomit or anything. Strange. My mom has been here for a few days and nights to help out because I’m really that useless right now. I’m pretty good at pushing through illness and whatnot, so this sucks. I know how lucky I am to have such a great mom, and Matty clearly knows how lucky he is to have his MaMaw. He’s been loving it; obviously, she’s way more exciting than boring old Mama, although when he comes into my room to see me a few times a day, the smile on his face and the excitement in his voice almost make it worth it to be stuck in bed!

Also, Mattix has his appointment with the pediatric surgeon tomorrow (Friday) morning. Please say a little prayer that we’re all worried about nothing. I’ll post an update afterwards.

Finally, about the napping. It’s apparently not over, thank goodness. Thank you for the advice; I’ve adjusted the time of his nap, but not on a fixed schedule. We’ve been reading his cues and with the exception of two days, when he slept for less than an hour each time, he has pretty much been napping for almost two hours a day for the past week.  Did I mention how relieved I am???  I feel like we deserve at least another six months of naps. He has only been taking them for a little over four months.

Anyway, childproofing with Melmo…

In case you’d like to know what the hell I’m talking about, this is Melmo:

 

You might think it’s El*mo, but if you ask Matty Bug, it’s Melmo. This particular Melmo is wearing a chicken costume and he sings an effed up version of that stupid ass chicken dance song that we’re all forced to sing and dance around to like jackasses at weddings. You know what I’m talking about. If it happens late enough in the evening and you’ve had a few drinks, it might amuse you a bit. If it’s too early and you’re good and sober…well, it makes me want to put a fork in my eye.

Melmo scares the everliving shit out of Mattix. Actually, it used to scare him, which is why I thought for a brief moment that I would go to the store, buy a bunch of Chicken Melmos, and put them around the house in front of the things that I don’t want Mattix to get into and destroy. You know, sort of like the plastic owls that are supposed to keep the pigeons off of your roof? Ed agreed that it just might work. I mean, Mattix would really hesitantly approach Melmo. His need to push buttons would get the better of him, so he’d quickly reach out and push the button on his foot, then freak out and run.

I don’t blame him. Melmo starts flapping his wings, squatting up and down, and singing, “Come on everybody, let’s do the chicken dance with El*mo. El*mo wants to be a chicken, El*mo wants to be a duck, quack, quack, quack, quack, quack, quack, quack quack. Flap your arms like a chicken, flap your arms like a duck…..”  And it goes on and on. There are a few verses. It’s just like the annoying chicken dance song, but with “special” lyrics. And P.S., why the hell does he also want to be a duck when he’s wearing a chicken costume? And chickens don’t quack. But whatever. I digress.

Mattix would yell and run behind my legs and hold on tight. Then he’d peek around just to make sure Melmo wasn’t on the attack. I don’t blame him. I have nightmares that Melmo is going to climb into my bed at night and stab me, all the while singing about being a chicken and a duck.  Melmo really bothered him, and because my kid can’t leave anything alone, he was constantly freaking himself out. So one day, I stuck Melmo in my closet, out of sight, and he was forgotten. During the great closet renovation, Melmo once again resurfaced. At first, Mattix was all sorts of annoyed by him. I was going to put him somewhere out of sight again - like the big green garbage bin – but then one day, Mattix stopped being afraid of Melmo. Now, he actually does the chicken dance with him. And oh. my. gosh. It’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. He balls up his fists, bends his arms, puts his fists under his chin, and flaps his arms while squatting up and down. I really want to catch it on video because It’s priceless. So, although my childproofing with Melmo plans have been thwarted, it turns out that Mattix makes that super annoying freakish altered chicken dance song that Melmo sings in his annoying-as-all-hell voice quite adorable.

BTW, I still need to do an 18 month update, which will be more like a 19 month one. I will do it, though, when I’m not quite as sick, because Mattix is blowing my mind right now. He learns a handful of new words every single day.

Also, I’m pretty sure I’ve gotten my PW to everyone who asked for it, but if for some reason I did not send it to you and you asked, please send me an email or leave a comment one more time. If I did not respond to you, it was unintentional. I will have another PW protected post up this weekend (hopefully).

Happy Friday!

The beginning of the end????

(I took my last post down b/c I was getting a crazy amount of hits from people doing google searches. I put a few of the search terms people were using in google, and sure enough, it was coming up in the first three or four every time. I’ve never wanted a blog that tons of people read- freaks me out – and so I made it go away!  It wasn’t a big deal, anyway. I already get nervous about the number of hits I get each day and it’s hard enough for the rational me to convince the crazy, paranoid me that they’re mostly APs, PAPs or friends of those two groups. And furthermore, I have enough creepos who land here looking for things like “hole in the crotch” and “hoo ha hole” and “why am I getting crotch holes” and freaky stuff like that. (They find my blog because of THIS  post, BTW, and so I know those people don’t hang around ’cause clearly, that ain’t what they’re looking for.) And one final note before I sop, to the nearly TEN people who came here looking for info on “Ci*ndy Mc*Cai*n’s adopted ETHIOPIAN daughter” (caps added me me). DUDE! Seriously? I mean it. Seriously?

So, anyway, the beginning of the end. I fear…no, I’m scared to death…that Mattix may be getting close to being done with naps. He just started taking them four months ago. Four months, people, four months. I NEED nap time. I don’t just want it, I don’t just like it, I NEED it. When I’m playing 24/7 solo parent, nap time is MY time. MY. TIME. When Matty has a bad night, then gets up at 5:00, I might need to take a nap, too, and I do every once in a while. When I have a few things that HAVE to get done, like make appointments, I do them during nap time. Mattix feels like me being on the phone these days means he must yell in his loudest voice possible until I get off, so it makes it hard to both make appointments and discipline that very inappropriate behavior at the same time. Therefore, I do that during nap time. And then I do the disciplining part while I’m on the phone with friends and family. They love hearing my kid SCREAM in the background. And sometimes, I pay bills during nap time. And other times, I just sit on the couch and stare at the pretty, beige wall during nap time. Sometimes I think about drinking wine during nap time, although I can say with absolute honestly that I haven’t done that…yet. And often, I play on the Internet, like I am right now.

Anyway, for a few days in a row now, he hasn’t just laid down and went to sleep within twenty minutes. Oh no, he’s had a party in his crib. A very, very wide awake party.  A party that lasts at least an hour, until I take in a bottle and lay him back down. then he does fall asleep, but not for long. While this party is going on, he’s not at all upset or distraught. Quite the opposite. He’s really enjoying the playing and the giggling and talking and whatnot. I’m sitting on the other end of the video monitor, sweating bullets.

I never though Mattix would take a nap based on the way things were when we came home – and for the subsequent five months. I’ve never seen a ten month old kid that could get less than eight hours of very interrupted, choppy sleep for each 24 hour period and survive. But when he did start napping, I realized how and why it is that full time stay at home moms (and dads) are actually able to survive the day…and the evening and night if they’re flying solo.  That one and a half to two hours a day is very, very valuable!  Please help. Please. Someone. Anyone! Do I sound really desperate yet? I just want to be sure to convey how serious this is. If nap time ends, I fear I may be drinking wine during “awake” time at 11:00 a.m instead of just thinking about it during nap time. Should I try putting him down for naps later in the day? Maybe I just need to move the time? Or is this the age (18/19 months) when naps just stop? Please say it’s the former and not the latter.

First hair cut, first wagon, TEETHING IS THE DEVIL, political stuff (photo heavy)

Strange title, huh?

First of all, thank you for all of your comments and emails regarding Matty’s lump. I actually feel a lot more at ease now. I also think it’s very possible it’s something like Geneva described, which is just ridiculous (that the conditions in the orphanage were such that he could have something caused by tics), but much better than the places my mind was going. We have an appointment with the pediatric surgeon a week from Friday, so I’m going to do my best to remain rational until then. I got myself so worked up yesterday that I started crying at a restaurant, and that’s just not productive. It’s funny what you learn about yourself once you’re a mom. When I’m in situation where I’m waiting on medical news for myself, I can totally handle it, even when I have a feeling it’s not going to be good. But with my child? Not so much.

Second, I’m sorry for posting on top of my PW protected post. As it turns out, there are going to be quite a handful of those and that’s not all that is going on in our day-to-day lives, nor is what I want my blog to be all about. There’s SO much more to our super exciting lives, like grocery shopping, cleaning ass, eating, and getting haircuts. So, you’ll just have to bear with the heavy posting.

Third, I’m finding all the political debates entertaining and interesting; I like reading what everyone has to say, even when I disagree, but I ain’t touching that crap with a ten foot pole. As I told someone else, my debate-it-to-the-death nature and education make those sorts of discussions off limits to me. I cannot let anything go. I can’t quit. It would never end. My mom told me she knew I was going to law school by the time I was ten years old. And let me just say that you KNOW it would be bad if I’m actually able to muster up enough self control to keep my mouth shut. I read things and almost jump off of the couch. I sit on my hands to keep them off the keys. How much longer will I have to do this? Crap, it’s just the beginning of September…

Anywho, onto the really important stuff.  TEETHING IS THE DEVIL. Seriously, THE. FREAKING. DEVIL. I’ve heard about teething being “difficult,” but until we started experiencing it, I had no idea.  And it just keeps getting worse. One day, Mattix is his sweet, normal, hilarious self, and the next morning, he wakes up with a fever, drooling like crazy, his hands MIA because they’re buried in his mouth and they only come out when he starts gnawing on the damn sofa, and he’s freaking Linda Blair. I wait on pins and needles for his head to spin around and vomit to come flying out of his mouth. I kid you not. Teething sucks.

In the words of Ben Stone from Knocked Up, with a slight alteration (yeah, I did love that movie and yeah, I realize how foul it was), “Fu*ck you, teething! You’re a crazy bi*ch!” I love my kid, by the way. Please don’t confuse my hatred of teething with my feelings for him, just in case you’re a literal person. And if you haven’t picked up on it, I handle life with humor and sarcasm.

Moving on…

Mattix got his first “real” haircut today. It was a big day for me. Believe it or not, I trim his hair myself. (Again, please note the sarcasm dripping from my voice.) I haven’t been able to bring myself to take him in and have it cut. Here’s my reason (read: excuse, justification, whatever you want to call it): when someone who knows what the hell they’re doing cuts your kid’s hair, it totally changes his look. Ten minutes and twenty bucks and he goes from the “baby” to “toddler.”  I put it off for as long as possible. But the long, mullet-ish, stringy, sorta wavy, thin, mad scientist/Einstein, old man look needed to go. I knew it when a very sweet, much nicer-than-I-am, 21 year old who cares very much about Matty told me to cut his freakin’ hair because there was nothing cute about a mullet in the back and a curled over faux hawk. So I did it. I caved today and took my mom with me.

Mattix is far too cool for those kids haircut joints where they strap him into some stupid plastic car or tie him on top of some purple freaking animal. He told me if I took him to one of those crap holes, he wasn’t going through with it. Instead, we went to SportClips, where the entire place is sports themed and much more Matty’s style. Okay, so SprotClips just opened a new location less than ten minutes from my house and sent me a coupon for a “junior” cut for half the price, and both of those factors made it far more attractive than the kids place that is thirty minutes away (the one I’ve walked into twice, but left because I lost my nerve), but I prefer my first version of the story. Anyway, it went well. He sat in my lap and my mom took photos. He didn’t really cry, only whined occasionally, and squirmed for less than half of the cut. As luck would have it, the woman who cut his hair just started working there after two years of cutting hair at a children’s salon, so lucky us.

I’ll let the photos do the rest of the talking:

BTW, I asked my mom to please avoid including me in the photos. I’m pretty sure what she heard was, “Please. Please be sure to fully photograph my newly sprouted double chin and filthy hair. Please. Do you understand?  Be sure to include those things IN the photos.” So, I’ve had to creatively crop.

 

 

Despite the fact that it looks like I’m trying to choke the ever living crap out of my kid as payback for the teething issue in the next few photos, I promise that’s not the case. I was just trying to help him keep both ears, as he was moving his head enough to lose one of them to the VERY sharp scissors.

 

 

 

 

And the finished product, immediately afterwards:

 

Later in the day, after a nap, some gel, and a new shirt that wasn’t covered in red lollipop drool. See what I’m talking about? He looks older!

He looks possessed in this photo b/c I tried to use the red eye removal function on the picture editor. didn’t go too well.

 

Last week, Mattix was the proud recipient of his first wagon. Let me just begin this segment by saying that wagons have come a long way since I was a kid. When I had a wagon, we had to be damn sure we didn’t leave the METAL Red Radio Flyer out in the sun, or we’d risk burning the skin off of our asses when we climbed into it after it finished baking in the 115 degree heat, directly under the summer sun. These days, wagons apparently are $160 plastic Cadillacs. I’ve been looking for one such Cadillac for Matty all summer, but I refused to pay $160 for it. I learned about children’s resale shops about five months ago and so it became my mission to find this Cadillac at a resale shop. I gave myself ’til the end of the summer before I would cave in a pay full retail, ’cause let’s be honest, my sorry ass is unlikely to haul Matty around the neighborhood when it’s 110 degrees outside, especially this month, when it’s a cool 105 with 50% humidity. Anyway, my dream finally became a reality when my favorite upscale resale shop got a BRAND new one in. I had her put it on hold for me and I went over the same day.

This is the part of the story when I tell you how I’m going to have to be very, very careful that my child does not turn into a spoiled rotten snot. *I* was super excited about this wagon, being that it was $90 and nearly new. *I* jumped out of the car and skipped along, holding Matty’s hand, thinking about the fun we’ll have with this wagon when the weather cools off. I was certain he was still at that age where he thinks things just appear out of thin air and are there for his pleasure. I didn’t realize he had an understanding of actually getting something new from a store, taking it home, and having it for himself. So anyway, I was all super excited, skipping towards the store, and that’s when he spotted it. The Cadillac of wagons was sitting outside the shop, complete with a “hold” tag with my name on it. My kid threw himself on the wagon and squealed with delight. Apparently, the ride he took in Khai’s wagon the last time we were in St. Louis was fresh in his memory. I had to PRY him off of it while he SCREAMED so that I could go into the shop and look around and pay.

Then when we left, the same thing happened. Little did he know I had bought the damn thing and was going to load it into the car after I strapped him into his car seat. He threw a monumental fit in front of the store as I tore his little hands off the poles that hold the plastic canopy up and carried him to the car, feeling ashamed that I had bought my spoiled little fit throwing monster the Cadillac wagon. I put him in his car seat and proceeded to load the heavy beast into the car. He couldn’t see what I was doing, so he didn’t realize he was actually getting the wagon as he sat in his car seat and sobbed and whined. I called my mom and told her I going to hide it in the garage and that I would give it to him after a week or so because there was no way in HELL he was getting it that day.

What? I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking he’s 18 months old and he would not remember at the end of the day. Well, I’ve got news for you. This kid forgets NOTHING . But I thought he probably wouldn’t remember the whole cause and effect (throw giant fit, get expensive toy) one week later. Well, my plan was thwarted when he had one of his colossal diaper blowouts in the dry cleaners later that afternoon (that’s a post in and of itself; in case you thought we were over those, we’re not) and I had to change him in the back of the Tahoe. He looked at the wagon, looked at me, and then that sickeningly adorable, but oh-so-naughty grin took over his face and he screamed with excitement as he wrapped his arms around his new toy. Wouldn’t remember, my ass. Not a good day for lessons.

Anyway, the woman at the resale store informed me that we would be the envy of the neighborhood, given that there’s a “chip and beer” holder on the top of the plastic canopy. She was being sarcastic. As it turns out, I think she’s wise.  I don’t drink beer, but I’m thinking that given my current state, I’m only a step away from drinking boxed wine out of plastic party cups anyway, so I might just be cruising stumbling around the neighborhood, pulling  Matty in his Cadillac wagon, munching on scarfing down the fattiest potato chips I can find and sipping chugging $2 boxed wine out of a red high school kegger plastic cup.  Thank you very much.  My life freaking rules.

A few more photos for your viewing pleasure. Despite the fact that he looks VERY serious in these photos, Matty LOVES his wagon. Love it. Every time we get into or out of the car, he tries to climb into the wagon. Drives me crazy. And he smiles and laughs during wagon rides…until I pull out the camera. I’ve managed to drag him down to the mailbox and back each night, but that’s about all I can handle, given that I’m sweating like a 400 pound man who’s devouring a bucket of chicken because the heat and hmidity is killer right now. I guess I don’t have any photos of the sweet tricked out canopy features, but trust me, there are two cupholders and a few large compartments up there. It’s gonna be party time at my house soon. And by the way, take note of the cupholders for Mattix, in addition to the double seats with belts. And there’s storage UNDER the seats. Ed assessed the situation and determined that yes, we can use the under seat storage as an ice chest. Watch out.

 

And that’s all I’ve got for tonight!

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