2010 was a big year for us. Huge. It began with
the call of a lifetime, followed by five more looong months of waiting. We met and fell in love with two sweet little boys and an entire country. We survived a difficult transition, learned how to be a family of four, and have landed softly in 2011.
Today marks our seventh month home as a family. At seven months I feel like a mom, and I love it even more than I thought I would. Sure some things are hard. Sometimes these sweet little darlings push my buttons and demand my attention in a way that makes me tired, but mostly it’s wonderful. Lately the boys have been fond of saying, “Mommy loves Dash” and “Mommy loves Taye”. They’ve got that right. The intense love didn’t happen for me overnight like I thought it would when we were waiting, but it’s here now and it’s deep, sweet and redeeming.
At seven months home the boys still remember Ethiopia and the people they knew there. I believe they also fully understand that we are a family, although they still question its permanence. They like to say, “MY Mommy” and “MY Daddy”. Dash woke up this morning, snuggled into me and said, “Mommy, Dash stay Mommy, Daddy. No stay Efeeopia”. He has said this in so many words before, but it hasn’t come up in months. Then he started talking about his birth mother, which is a first. Mostly he remembers how sad she was when we said goodbye in May and that upsets him. I don’t know what triggered these memories today, but I’m glad he’s talking to me about them.
At seven months their affection toward complete strangers is less alarming. For a while the electrician, dishwasher repair and UPS men received the same level of affection as their grandmothers. Now, although they are still extremely affectionate children, the big hugs and kisses are directed more appropriately and the biggest ones are reserved for us.
At seven months home the boys are speaking English almost as well as most of their peers. They know most of their letters and can count to 29 (although 20 is still adorably termed “eleventeen”). They notice “sames” and “differences” and like to point them out. One night at dinner:
“Mommy! Dash and Taye black, Mommy and Daddy pink!”
Mark and I exchanged quick glances of surprise before realizing he was talking about the dinner plates. Only once have they openly commented on the differences within our family.
Taye: “Dash and Taye brown, Mommy…” He looked down at my hand which was applying lotion to his beautiful brown skin and then looked inquisitively into my eyes. “Mommy?”
Me: “Mommy…pink.”
Taye: “Yep! Dash and Taye brown, Mommy pink!”
That has been the extent of it so far but I suspect 2011 may be the year for bigger conversations on this subject.
At seven months we still have not left the boys with anyone and we are still co-sleeping. When you believe in
attachment parenting, and you miss the first three years of your children’s lives, this feels like the right thing to do. For us co-sleeping means lying with them at night until they fall asleep, which still takes one or two hours unless we skip nap altogether, but that makes for a rough afternoon so we don’t do it often. In the beginning the boys would sleep on their own until morning but toward the end of August, and especially when I went back to work in September, they began calling for me in the middle of the night. In the wee hours of the morning, snuggled between their warm little bodies, it feels like we are making up for lost time—time I am away at work and time I couldn’t be there in the beginning—and I believe it has been good for all of us.
At seven months we have had three visits to the emergency room, all with the same child. The first visit was his
harrowing illness in Ethiopia, the other times were both the result of a
nursemaid’s elbow (same child, different elbows). Apparently this is a common occurrence in young children but with our child, neither injury was the result of the typical pull or a fall or being swung around by the arms. The first time he twisted around in his stroller, the second I was just taking his shirt off. They both happened so easily that we may be dealing with a previous injury. Other than that, both boys have been healthy and strong and only sick this one time recently, thanks to my co-worker.
At seven months the boys have been with us almost as long as they were in the orphanage (a good orphanage, but still, an orphanage). This blows me away. Even at my age, the past seven months have felt like a lifetime, and that gives me some idea of just how much their worlds have been turned upside down. Their resiliency continues to astound me.
At seven months home my chubby, smooshy babies have grown three inches (they only grew half that the seven months prior) and they now resemble little boys more than toddlers. I surprised myself in the beginning by feeling little loss at missing their babyhood. Now I can see that was because in those early months they were babies in almost every way. Like every parent must feel, time is rushing by and I am trying to soak in as much of this stage as I can before it’s on to the next one. As we start a new year, I feel blessed beyond measure to be able to spend this one in its entirety with them. When you want something as badly as I wanted these children, the idea of an entire year together is awe inspiring.
May this be a year full of dreams come true for all of you, too! Happy New Year from our family to yours!