Monday, May 28, 2012

Home Sweet Home

How to describe the 28 hours of travel - ten in airport waiting rooms and eighteen in a plane - with a confused, traumatized, raging six year old boy? It's something that must be experienced to be understood. Suffice it to say that I've given it a lot of thought and I think that it was the single most difficult 28 hours of my life. Yes, more difficult than labor. Without drugs.

But we're home! And oh, so wonderful to be home! Despite waking up at 1:30 am (technically 7:30 Lesotho time, but this after only six hours of sleep for Paul and five hours for me) we had a great day. Paul thoroughly explored the house. I thought our house was pretty well childproofed. Ha, ha, ha silly me! But there was so much to see and do that the distraction technique worked beautifully. We are definitely choosing our battles because we as parents must win those control battles through loving, patient, nurturing firmness. Not an easy task on five hours of sleep in the last 36 hours!

We started off on a good note with the booster seat and seatbelt rule. He thinks it's AMAZING that we have two cars. (And really, it IS amazing. Never will I take that for granted.) This morning he wanted to ride in "Mama's car" so, so much. So I showed him his special seat and showed him the seatbelt and told him it was a rule in America to wear seatbelts. I said my car wouldn't go unless everyone wore a seatbelt. He complied. First we took a drive around the block. No problems. Then he wanted to come to the grocery store with me. (The grocery was our regular outing in Lesotho. The sight of so much food seems to reassure him.) When we left our neighborhood he pointed to the back of my station wagon and unclicked his seatbelt. I pulled over and stopped the car. "Oh, bummer! My car won't go. We'll have to go home." He put the seatbelt on in a hurry!

He rode in the little car attached to the cart at the grocery. I didn't quite realize how much JUNK marketers put down there right at six-year-old eye level. Paul asked for a few things that we did get (sippy cup, yogurt, juice) and a few things that we didn't get (Buzz Lightyear fruit snacks, cherry bombs (SERIOUSLY?)). I was prepared for a showdown, but he didn't pout or fuss AT ALL. Sam, and her candy-nabbing-stick-it-in-the-cart-when-Mom's-not-looking ways, might need a few lessons.

Trent and I have never laughed so hard than with some of Paul's antics and expressions! He obviously finds this whole new world amazing (guitar and scooter and Peyton-the-wonder-dog. Enough said!) but I know he also thinks it's crazy. We told him we were going to walk the dogs, and he busted into hysterical laughter when we put a LEASH on the dogs! Bah, hah, hah - what is wrong with you people? And THEN...to top off the crazy, dogs-on-a-leash-walking Americans, I PICKED UP the dog doo in a grocery bag! HIS FACE! "MAMA! What the heck are you going to do with THAT?" I wish I had it on video.

He played hard all day. He rode the scooter and played with Peyton and tried to catch the goldfish in the pond and played in the sprinkler and jumped on the mini-trampoline and zoomed his cars and played the guitar and watered the plants (FINALLY! A gardener in the family!) and threw the ball to Peyton and on and on. Then, as I was carrying him upstairs for his bath, he fell sound asleep on my shoulder. So, he's sweaty and stinky but sleeping!

No pictures because Sam took my phone to the softball game. GO CAL!


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