Stuff I Like

I have a love-hate relationship with stuff. We have SO MUCH stuff in America. I hate that we rely so deeply on so much stuff. Anytime I go on a mission trip or serve in an impoverished area I am convicted about the amount of stuff I "need" because, after living and working with very little it is clear that I could, and many others do, live and work with very little. Then I'm convicted to simplify and give away and stop, Stop, STOP buying so much STUFF. There are a million ways the $30.00 I'm tempted to spend on a hose-wrapper-upper (which I only want because I'm too lazy to coil the hose around the fence) could benefit those in desperate need.

On the other hand, there are a few things that make life much, much easier with a newly home six-year-old. For what it's worth, here's my list of stuff I like.

• Iphone (or, as Paul calls it, "Maphone," not to be confused with "Paul's maphone," which is actually Sam's old cell phone and now only works to take pictures.) I think it's funny that my iphone is at the top of my list because for years I was a reluctant cell phone user. I often forgot my phone,which didn't really bother me because, honestly, I preferred not to be too easily accessible. I only wanted an iphone because I could, in theory, sync my computer calendar with the phone calendar and, again theoretically, have an updated calendar if, in fact, someone actually entered the events into one of those calendars. But despite the fact that the iphone doesn't magically enter appointments into the calendar for me, I LOVE IT! The pictures feature is a great way to take in-the-moment pictures and videos of Paul, for Paul to review his life history thus far, and is his preferred way of interacting with those outside the family. I keep several rotating videos on the phone for high-anxiety events as well as for we-must-wait events, like Sam's softball games. (He's learning English from Imagination Movers. "Sorry, guys." "Thanks, guys." "'S'okay, Pants!") We also have some English games. Those don't have the same draw as Imagination Movers or Fruit Ninja, but are helpful all the same. I can also use the iphone to text Trent important messages like, "WHEN ARE YOU COMING HOME!!!???" I forgot my phone for the first time in six weeks last Wednesday evening, and thought I was going to have a panic attack.

• Music. Paul has his own playlists, which are quite eclectic, ranging from Basotho music to toddler songs (he's remembering the ABC song and "Happy and You Know It" that Shelley taught him) to Contemporary Christian to R&B. He loves the song "Courageous" by Casting Crowns, which is a powerful anthem for his life as he has been and will continue to need to be courageous to cope with the grief and trauma in his young life. I'm angling Trent for a speaker system for the iphone (one with volume lock ☺) and also headphones with volume lock. 

Paul dancing to the music while he's supposed to be eating lunch.
It's a positive sign that hunger is no longer a factor when music takes priority over food.

• Our 10' diameter pool (Wal-Mart), which can comfortably hold a slide (Toys 'R Us), four children, an adult and a teen or two. The pool is a great place for a playdate because it is contained in a small space and allows for interaction without any talking required. Sam or I generally play in the pool with him, but he's also happy to jump and bounce around by himself as long as I'm watching closely and oohing and aahing at all his tricks.

• Punching bag (freebie from neighbors when Sam was taking karate). Paul loves to pummel the bag - it can take it! This seems to expend positive energy and leaves him calmer and more settled.

• Swing (Lowe's). Safety mat, which apparently needs to be thicker (also Lowe's). I'm a big fan of physical motion to enhance coping skills and increase those "feel good" endorphins in the brain. Paul apparently is too!

• Lest you think we're all play and no work, Paul also likes to pretend school with the Melissa and Doug's mini white board/chalk board (Parent Teacher Store). He's doing great with shapes and drawing pictures and writing his name. Still working on numbers and letters.

• Time Timer (Amazon.com, which I also love now that we're avoiding the trauma of Wal-Mart). Paul was having trouble figuring out time. "Five minutes" seemed to mean anything from right now - "Mama, ja (eat) five minutes" - to all night long - "Mama, sleep Paul's room five minutes." We use this at school to give kids visual cues as to how much time remains to complete a particular task. This also works well to show Paul how much time left until Daddy comes home, until we get to go on a bike ride, until he is finished with learning time, until quiet time is over, etc.

• Bike aka motorcycle (garage sale) the most favorite item ever! Paul goes for a spin several times a day. Another great way to get out of the house, get some exercise, and potentially play with friends.

Paul on a bike play date with new friend Jonathan.

The Difference Three Weeks Makes

I'd read all the literature and the other mommy blogs that discuss how hard those first two weeks home are with an older adopted child. Heck, I'd even counseled other pre-adoptive parents about how hard their first two weeks home might be. I'd sympathized and commiserated. I thought I was prepared.

Ha! Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! (BTW, I also thought I was prepared for an all-natural, no drugs childbirth with Sam, so my track record for preparing for the pain of children leaves much to be desired.)

It's a bit like having the neediness of an infant with the separation anxiety of a one year old with the communication/frustration issues of a two year old with the curiosity of a three year old with the guile of a five year old with the size of a six year old with the strength and agility of an eight year old. You know those flour-sack babies they give to high schoolers to teach them about parenting? Try it with a 50-pound bag of concrete, add flailing arms and legs - that's adoptive parent preparation.

But, like childbirth, while this may be the hardest thing I've ever done, it's also the most rewarding and incredible. I see God with every tiny victory, every connection, every empathetic gesture, every hug that heals his heart.

Paul is sleeping through the night, thanks to your prayers and my amazing husband who convinced him that the camo pull-ups are cool. He's even had several dry nights with the pull-ups, so we may be turning a corner here. He generally sleeps 8:30 pm until 6:00 am, then snuggles in our bed watching Orangutan Island and Chimp Eden (thank you, Animal Planet, for airing two shows that capture his attention) until 6:30 or 7:00. He'll have a 6:00 or 6:30 wake up call for school, anyway, so I'm not pushing (too hard) for a later wakeup. God has been waking me up at 4:30 am for prayer time, then I go back to sleep on the bed on the floor in Paul's room. I stay with him until he falls asleep in the evening and I'm there when he wakes up.

We discovered the cause of Paul's tummy troubles. He brought home a little bug from Africa, which to eradicate required the bitterest medicine I've ever tasted. We had a bit of trouble convincing him to take it and NOT spit it out, but by the end of the course of treatment he was a pro, even squirting the medicine into his mouth then shoveling in yogurt (seems to cut the bitterness) and guzzling the water. Hopefully he'll get the all-clear on the next check.

Paul's English is growing by leaps and bounds. I'm amazed at what he picks up. Today he said he was going to stretch. And then he stretched! I don't know where he heard that word because heaven knows I haven't stretched recently. His new favorite phrases are "Whadisit?" "Wha'doing?" and "Where going?" (The "Whadisit?" question, BTW, is a lot like the "Why?" question in that it can expand into infinity. "Whadisit?" "It's home plate." "Whadis hompate?" "You stand next to home plate and shapa, I mean hit, the ball into the outfield. " "Whadis oudfield?")

He's grasping the ownership of things, the fact that several (lots of!) toys and movies and electronics and food are HIS and are not going anywhere, which seems to help him be OK with leaving Mom's and Dad's and Sam's stuff alone (most of the time). Now when he asks, "Whadisit?" and I tell him it's Daddy's stapler, he'll nod and leave it alone or will ask if he can "Try it paper only" rather than try to snatch and hide said stapler.

He's also getting way better at stopping when he is asked to stop, be it while riding his bicycle (one thirty minute lock-up of the bicycle did the trick) or when playing jump up and grab Mama or climb Mama or hang on Mama's leg (did I mention his strength and agility?).

I mentioned Paul's love of the Lowe's race car cart. That, plus the fact that Paul is an amazing helper (he swept and shop-vac'ed the sidewalk of grass clippings while Trent mowed! Sam is going to need to step up her game!) means that we go to Lowe's quite a bit and as a result the left-side of my garage - the side with my car and with all the bikes and toys - is super clean and organized. Everything else feels like chaos, but the garage is now my place of peace and orderliness.

He visited the library and school this week, and while he needed to be carried in, he walked around and out of both places holding my hand and happy! This afternoon he even wanted to go back to school! This is huge - school has a tough place in his history. The fact that my office at school has lots of toys and balls is a bonus, but today he watched the preschool kids, showed off his papers to Mrs. Thompson and Mrs. Carroll,  showed his pictures to Miss Teresa, and thought about interacting. He also had a play date riding bikes with Jonathan Nagy, (he didn't actually TALK to Jonathan, but he played and rode his bike in the same general vicinity) and then talked about his metswalla (friend) all afternoon.

He is SO funny. I know no one else has seen it, yet. Heck, no one else has heard him talk above a whisper, if that, but just wait. Soon you, too, will be privy to the chicken dance and the playful teasing and the corny jokes (most of which have something to do with pee pee, which may be a boy thing and/or may be the English word at which he's most proficient).

He loves the pets, and is so loving and gentle. He and Peyton are best buds. "Paul rata (loves) Peyton" is a phrase heard often at our house. He's a bit scared of Scout, (she's old and cranky), but he still treats her kindly and feeds her and lets her outside. He likes to laugh at the cat, and sometimes charges him to make him run (the cat does have a funny run), but he'll also pat the cat and say, "Good boy, cat."

Sam has been on a mission trip, and while Paul says her name several times a day, sometimes with a little whine, he is doing a great job of counting down the sleeps until she returns. Today it was four sleeps, so several times he said, "Four sleep, den tree, den two, den one, den Sam HOME!"

I'm still exhausted by 3:00 pm and wishing it was time for Trent to come home from work, and I'm still dreading softball game nights and weekends (which makes me sad because I used to love to watch Sam play, but now it's just more time that Trent and Sam are otherwise occupied and not able to help), but the 6:00 am to 3:00 pm time with Paul is so fun and rewarding that I know God will get us through the long, tough hours, too.

The Trauma that is Wal-Mart

At almost three weeks home, we've had to do a bit of shopping with Paul in attendance.  I had been warned against shopping with a newly adopted child - too many choices, too much stuff, too much sensory overload can send them spinning into hyperactivity or meltdown. Paul did pretty well shopping in Lesotho (course he was in a state of shock through most of it); not quite as well in Johannesburg (that mall WAS huge and overwhelming), so I wasn't sure what to expect once in America. But the child goes through produce faster than Jack LaLanne, so we had to hit the stores at some point.

Some stores are definitely more parent-of-an-easily-overwhelmed-child friendly. So, for what it's worth, here's my list from best to worst.

1) Foxhollow Farm Store: This is a small store about ten minutes away that sells their own organic produce, chicken, eggs and beef as well as a few other local products. Absolutely my most favorite grocery store with Paul. First, everything is organic, so if he does the snatch and hide, I don't have to worry too much. (The item that you are hiding behind your back, Paul, is a cucumber. Yes, you may eat it. Enjoy.) Second, the most tempting items in child view are the honey and the raisins. No Buzz Lightyear "fruit" snacks at child height anywhere to be found. Third, they have the best playground ever. Shade, a big tower, a super-friendly cat that can climb the slide, two teepees, and the background music of birdsong and chickens clucking. Fourth, no cart, which means he has to walk. So walk he does. While this could be a downside in other stores (snatch, hide and run), here there is nowhere for him to go but out into the open fields where he could run to his heart's content. The only downside is that fact that it is all local - no bananas or oranges, which are big favorites.

2) Lowes: The cart at Lowes is Paul's most favorite - it's a race car, up high (unlike Kroger's which is low), and he gets to be the driver. So he's up at my level, driving the car through aisles of tools, and I can teach him important English words like miter saw and grout float and two-by-four. Lowes also doesn't get (too much) into the child-marketing racket, so there aren't a lot of tempting items at six-year-old height. But no produce except in grow-your-own form. Also, the toilets out there in the open created a bit of confusion. Paul: "Mum, pee pee?"
Me: "Yes, that's a toilet. But it's not for peeing. At least, not here. Buy it, then pee at home."
Paul: "Pee pee!"
Me: "DO you have to pee?"
Paul: "No pee pee. No!" Laughter.
Me: ???

3 tied) Whole Foods: Lots of produce. Lots and lots. That's pretty much as far as we got at Whole Foods - the produce aisle. (While we were there, my parents were on a reconnaissance mission to Toys 'R Us. No, I have not and will not take Paul to Toys 'R Us. Ever.) Paul was in produce heaven. Now when Paul wants more fruit, that's his go-to place. "Mum, um store um (finger on mouth) apple and orange and peach and um more." The cart at Whole Foods is a little squishy, though. I know, it's made for a two-year-old, not a six year old, but still.

3 tied) Paul's Fruit Market: Ditto above. They have lots of free fruit samples, which may give them an edge over Whole Foods, but their carts are even smaller and their aisles are tighter, which puts all the  and brightly colored packaging within easy-to-snatch reach.

5 tied) Costco: Pros - big carts in which Paul can ride; big aisles through which I can traverse directly in the center; big items that seem less appealing (more difficult to snatch and hide). Cons - the big space and the florescent lights quickly create sensory overload, and this is a difficult store in which to get in and out quickly.

5 tied) Kroger: Perhaps it's because we visit Kroger a lot and have  conversations about what we will buy and won't buy at Kroger (Yes fruit. No toys.), but Paul stays relatively calm at Kroger. He's usually content to hold the bag of oranges on his lap in the cart (I prefer him in the cart rather than in the race car front, which is way too easy to get in and out) and do his "ooh, ahh" dance whenever he sees something "Delishush!" But, note to others, avoid passing under the balloons, which are all-too-easy to grab yet difficult to extricate from little fists and resulted in us leaving our cart and the store until he could calm down. Which he did. Until we went through checkout and he saw the Scooby-Doo-toy-atop-candy right in reach. (Ugh! Seriously marketing people? Are you overtly trying to make life more difficult for parents? I guess it's a teaching moment - he's learning that when I say, "Yes, orange; no, toy," I mean it.)

7) Walgreens: To be fair, we visited Walgreens right before his doctor's appointment. We had been watching the Curious George video in which George visits the doctor, and we didn't want to spring the doctor visit on him, so he knew it was coming. (Preparing your child for transitions and for what's next is recommended by Dr. Purvis and other attachment counselors, and this is usually effective, but there are times when this just transfers the anxiety to the pre-event phase.) Paul was already anxious, and there is nothing soothing about Walgreens. Small carts, small aisles, florescent lights, lots of brightly colored packaging and toys in easy-to-snatch reach. We had to leave the cart and the store and head to the car for some soothing deep breathing. (Then I had to help Paul calm down.)

8) Wal-Mart: I never intended to take Paul to Wal-Mart. Never ever. Heck, I rarely go to Wal-Mart myself. It stresses me out! But we'd had a great morning riding bikes and Sam wanted to join us and Wal-Mart had the bike she wanted. (It IS a fun bike - very retro, Panama Jack beach bike complete with a little shelf over the rear tire for surfboard and/or picnic basket as well as a bottle opener on the front axle. Just, you know, in case we move to Key Largo.) We reviewed the plan with Paul - sit in the cart, take pictures and/or listen to music on the phone, buy Sam a bike. It went well for about, oh, one minute. There is just something about Wal-Mart that sends all the senses into overload. Paul was up and out of the cart in a flash, racing maniacally through the toy aisles. We had to do some serious "look in Mama's eyes, take a deep breath, let's find Sam" action, then Sam took him outside so I could pay. DO NOT JUDGE those parents whose children look possessed in Wal-Mart. Their only sin is taking them in the first place and not getting them out fast enough.

Shopping at the Farm Store. Can't get more chill than raisins and a cat!

Three Steps Forward, One Step Back

Dr. Purvis in The Connected Child mentions a game in which parent and child do a sort of walking dance, taking three steps forward then one step back. It's a fun little maneuver, especially if you add a bit of a rock and some jazz to the steps, primarily to embarrass your child. (Yes, six year old boys from Africa who happily consent to a mani-pedi from their older sister will still get embarrassed by their weird, rhythm-less mom. "Mum??? Stop!") Even with the one step back, you can still cover a lot of ground.

That's where we are after two weeks and one day home - three steps forward, one step back.

BACK: (I'm doing back first because I want to end with, and remember, all the good stuff.

• To all those people who asked how he was sleeping and I replied with grateful amazement that he was sleeping great once we worked through the jet lag, strike that. Rewind. Sunday night he woke up at 2:30, 3:30 and 5:30 am. Last night, starting at 12:30 am, he woke up every hour on the hour. Not sure if it's a separation anxiety thing (he knows I stay until he falls asleep, "Five minutes, Mum! Sleep...um...Paul...um...five minutes!" then I go to my room to sleep) or if it may be something physical. He's been having some tummy trouble this week. We're still waiting on some test results from the doctor. In the meantime, I'm working through an elimination diet to see if there is a food intolerance. (This week is wheat/gluten.) It's tricky, this sleep thing. Research shows that 30% of adopted children struggle with sleep. Everyone has something different to say about what's best - own room, cry it out, family bed, sharing a room, etc. We started out sleeping on a bed on the floor of Paul's room, but this just makes me tired and not at my best mom potential the next day. 'Course, waking up every hour doesn't do wonders for my patience, either, so we'll see how this plays out. The no sleeping thing also messes with his moods, and I know that when he gets that manic, sleep-deprived, slap-happy look in his eyes I need to act FAST to divert meltdown.
• "Paul boss." Paul has been testing boundaries the last couple of days. Big Time. Like, something he knows not to do, that about which he easily made good choices last week, he'll look at me with THAT LOOK, do it right in front of me and run like a banshee. Then, while sitting on the time in "think it over" chair, he'll say, in surprisingly clear English, "Mom no boss. Paul boss." This one I can handle way better than the no sleep. It just revs up my competitive juices - "Oh, yeah, buddy? How much you willing to wager on that?"

FORWARD:

• Paul went to Sam's softball tournament on Sunday and sat through nearly two games surrounded by people oohing and aahing at him, interacting with, although not talking to, Bruce and Caroline. He learned to fist-bump. Even better, after the ordeal, he didn't shut down or manic up.
• In the last 12 days Paul only fought against the seatbelt one time. And that was a result, I think, of being overly tired as well as anxious about Sam's trip to the dentist.
• He's learning to use his words. Which is huge, considering he doesn't speak much English. When he starts to whine for something, a reminder to use his words will cause him to stop, think, and put words and actions together in a way that constitutes a request. "Mum, pease, Diego" = "Mother, dear, may I please watch ten minutes of Diego on the computer?" I know other six year olds who still have trouble with this.
• While "learning time" still isn't his favorite time of the day, he knows now that after breakfast we take some time to color and count and read; then again after the first outdoor play time of the day. He's been taping his creations on the wall of his room, which is adorable.
• Sam and I went to the art fair at the Summit for several hours, and Paul stayed home with Daddy and only fretted about us once or twice before happily playing with the shop-vac. (Yes, Daddy turned vacuuming his car into a huge adventure. Today Paul vacuumed my car and it was great fun!)
• Paul can now play with Sam, and occasionally independently for short periods of time, without me in proximity and without pushing all Sam's buttons and driving her crazy. Not sure if that's a Paul success or a Sam success, but whatever. They enjoyed each other's company today (Sam even got him to take a nap!) and I was able to cook dinner tonight without distraction.
• Daddy can go to work without Paul saying his name 57 times before lunch. He seems to have acquired the rhythm of our days, and knows that Daddy comes home for dinner.
• Paul learned to ride a two-wheeler today. He went from a Big Wheel to  a two-wheeler, no training wheels! Amazing. He even wears the helmet, even though he complains, "Hot!"

This is - no kidding - his very first attempt at riding a two-wheeler. By the end of the day he was starting and stopping by himself.

It's now 8:30 pm. Paul fell asleep easily after a no-fuss bath and three stories. I'm praying he stays asleep until at least 6:00 am. God's grace was sufficient to get me through today, even though, at 4:30 am, I had some serious doubts. I've learned these last several weeks not to worry about next week or even the next day. Our focus is today. Give us THIS DAY our daily bread. Supply us with the strength, patience, humor, wisdom, insight that is necessary TODAY to meet his needs. Today is all we need. Tomorrow has enough worries of its own. (But, if you'd like to pray for our tomorrow, we're attempting our first play date with a six-year-old neighbor boy. "Tank you very much."

Fake It Til You Make It

Tomorrow marks our one month anniversary of having Paul. Three weeks in southern African and one-and-a-half weeks at home. One month! He, and we, have come so far since the day we met him at MIS orphanage. He was so scared and overwhelmed. Imagine if three very strange, very pale, very tall people speaking an entirely different language swooped into your life and carried you away from everything that was familiar to a whole new world, with rules that you didn't know about living in a family and sharing and obeying, with so many sights, sounds and sensations that it felt like your head was spinning. He's processed so much during this month. He's amazing. So loving and helpful and funny and energetic! God has big plans for this little guy.

In spite of, or perhaps because of, the one month mark, today was difficult. Not Paul's fault - he's doing GREAT. No tantrums in several days and very little whining. No, today was difficult because of me. I have a confession to make. Some days I don't FEEL especially loving. If you are one of those people who always has warm and fuzzy feelings toward everyone in your life, even those people who wake you up at five am demanding love and attention and nurturing discipline, and if you never have the urge to hide in the bathroom and lock the door for ten minutes just to have a shred of peace and quiet, then I don't believe you and I probably wouldn't like you very much that's just goody for you. Because sometimes I struggle with that JUST A TINY BIT!

Paul immediately remembered that something was fishy about the interaction with Samantha last night, and he asked for her right away upon awakening. (Did I mention that this was at five o'clock IN THE MORNING?) I told him she was bapala Katie - playing with Katie - and would be home for lunch. But at five in the morning, lunch is still seven hours away! Paul was not happy about this. First Daddy goes away for two sleeps, now Sam disappears. He said Sam's name 5,257 times. Give or take. We worked on some English pages and played and rode bicycles and watched the ducks and slid and played in the fort and played cars and looked at pictures and went to Paul's fruit market to buy apples and try samples of all the fruit. (Paul loves every kind of fruit. Every kind. Today he ate one banana, four peaches, two apples, one orange, seven strawberries and two clusters of grapes.) And after all that it's still only 9:30 in the morning and I know that Sam and Katie are still sleeping.

I was just tired. He's a wonderful, loving, funny kid. I prayed for him and I love him and I am committed to pouring into him the care and attention that he desperately needs to heal his wounded heart. But honestly? This morning it took every ounce of effort I had to wrap his solid, 50 pound frame, in yet another hug, lift him off the ground and dance. Every bit of wherewithal to show him, ever so kindly, that Mom likes gentle kisses on the cheek, NOT giant tongue swipes across the mouth. (This recent development, which he thinks is hysterical, is just grossing me out.) Every bit of patience to teach him that whining and jumping and grabbing Mom's shirt is not a good way to get positive attention from Mom.

I needed a diversion. I needed friends. So, a friend was taking her kids to the zoo, and I thought, "Why not? He ended up loving the zoo in Johannesburg. Let's try it." So we picked up Sam and went to the zoo.

Ooops.

I think every single person in the city of Louisville was at the zoo today. People everywhere. Noise, chaos, ultra-overstimulation. Paul shut down almost immediately. Sometimes we can ease into situations and he'll adjust and start to enjoy himself after ten or fifteen minutes, but no way we were easing into that mess. We scooted home without seeing our friends.

Paul, obviously relieved to be home, with Sam, released all that pent up anxiety with some hyperactive jumping on the couch (and on Sam and on me). I fought the urge to lock myself in my bedroom and cry. Instead we went in the basement and jumped on the mini-tramp and flipped and did some heavy lifting. "Mama strong!" may be my very favorite Paul-ism. He eventually settled and strung beads with Sam - calm enough that I could go upstairs and make dinner and cry a little bit. Better now. Sometimes I just have to fake it 'til I make it.

Paul is not ready for outings to other people's homes or the park or the pool or - gah! - the zoo. But I am losing my mind without adult interaction. I'm even on a break from editing manuscripts (and how in the world I'm going to find time to work on manuscripts when I start up again I have no idea). Facebook is my only outlet, and that is grabbed in snatches during the day. So, seriously, if you need to go to the Summit or Northeast Christian, swing by and visit us. The house is a mess and I may or may not have showered, but we are keeping lots of fruit in the house so I can offer you a strawberry if Paul doesn't snatch it first.

"I Sorry, Mum."

Paul had a great day! Which was totally unexpected because Trent went out of town for work, and I was completely dreading dinner time without him. Whenever Trent is working, Paul asks hopefully, "Daddy?" about every 20 minutes or so. He's gotten used to the idea that Daddy comes home to ja (eat) dinner. Today when I told him Daddy would be home in two sleeps his face fell, but he nodded and repeated, "Two sleeps Daddy."

As an aside, for some reason Paul thinks Trent operates heavy machinery, so anytime we see a digger or a bulldozer or a steamroller, Paul yells, "Daddy! Daddy! Mum, stop! Daddy!" Wishful thinking, perhaps?

The morning didn't start out so great. Paul woke up at 3:30 am but thankfully went back to sleep until 5:55 am. Still too early, but he ate a banana and snuggled with me in front of Barney while I tried to sneak in a few more minutes of sleep. Of course he wanted to "spin motorcycle" first thing after breakfast. I told him he had to wait and gave him his Kindergarten Ready book, but he was having none of it. He went outside, got on the big wheel, and took off. Uh, oh. Disobeyed Mama - big wheel gets locked up until AFTER we finish the Kindergarten Ready page.

Now, normally this would result in a tantrum. So I geared myself up, even though it was still only 7:30 in the MORNING! (UGH!) Paul DID try to cut through the lock, which I let him work away industriously on until he climbed up to grab the real saw, which is a no. He kept after it and got a time-in on the chair with Mama. But - cue celestial music - no fuss, no fight! Instead he said, "I sorry, Mum." DID YOU HEAR THAT? He said, "I sorry, Mum!" Shazaam! Thank you, Dr. Karen Purvis and The Connected Child. Thank you, Drs. Cline/Fay and Parenting with Love and Logic. I love you all and want you to come live at my house forever and ever, too.

Then, THEN, he worked on not one but THREE Kindergarten Ready pages (shapes - he was whipping right through them)! So after such a GOOD CHOICE Mama unlocked the bike and we got to go for a spin. So proud of my little guy!

Mom and Dad came over after lunch and Dad put together a slide that is meant to be for the little pool, but the pool is still freezing. So while Paul and Sam did splash around a bit, they didn't stay in long enough for the slide to make it in the water. But I'm not going to complain. I'm sure we'll have plenty of 90+ degree days this summer. Paul was excited for Nana and Papa to visit. He didn't shut down and actually interacted with them!

Dinner time - great. "Rata (love) chicken! MMMmmm, mmmm!" Bath time - great! Snuggle time on the couch - great! Then Mama screwed up. Sam desperately needed time with friends. She was going to go to a movie, but her friend got home too late. So Katie asked Sam to spend the night. I said, "Sure, Paul and I can take you, then I'll bring him home and put him to bed."

Ooops.

We did take Sam, Paul even met Katie and Katie's parents (although he had his somber, quiet, scared-to-death-of-you-people face), but Paul was NOT leaving Sam at Katie's house. NO WAY! This is a family, and no one, NO ONE gets left behind!

So I did a Super Nanny no, no. Sam got back in the car, reassuring Paul that she loved him and that she was going to be his sister forever and ever, then we drove the Gene Snyder until Paul fell asleep. I did a sort of rolling stop in front of Katie's house, Sam jumped out and escaped for an evening of teenagernish.

It had to be done, Super Nanny. It had to be done.

Week One - Our Many Moods

How to describe our first week home? First, a story. When Sam was three-and-a-half, we moved, which meant I had to leave a wonderful part-time job but in return got to stay home full time with Sam. I wanted to cherish this time. After all, SO MANY older, wiser moms told me (again and again) how FAST this time would go. So Sam and I enjoyed lots of quality and quantity time together. I'd call Trent with an update: "We walked the dog and fed the ducks and watched ants and sang the alphabet song and read a story and built a fort and made shadow puppets with the flashlight in the fort and had a tickle fight. It was a wonderful day! When do you think you'll be home?"

Trent: "It's only ten o'clock in the morning."

Me: "Oh." Pause. "When does she start school?"

The years fly fast but the minutes are long. Our first week home feels a bit like that. We have had so many fun, fabulous memories with Paul - walking the dogs and hitting the whiffle ball and riding the big wheel and shooting the basketball and having a water balloon fight and playing in the pool and cuddling on the couch and eating meals together and exploring the house. But it's also exhausting! I'm not used to being this needed ALL THE TIME! Don't get me wrong - I'm GLAD he needs me and calls for me and wants me to watch him and wants me to hug him and wants to kiss me and wants me to carry him (OK, the carrying is getting a bit tiresome, but this is declining since he got the big wheel) - but WHEW! He DOES respect my privacy in the toilet, so that is now my only quiet time. Probably too much information, but whatever.

Paul seems to be thriving with the attention and the love and the food. He no longer eats whatever I put in front of him, more's the pity, and tonight he turned his nose up at the canned green beans. I swear he's put on five pounds since Johannesburg. (And since I carry him a LOT, I should know.) He can also handle it (albeit with a sad, whiny face) when I tell him to wait until AFTER dinner for more grapes. Huge.

He went to Sam's softball scrimmage and, while he needed to be in constant proximity to me or Trent, he didn't shut down at all and even gave Leah's dad a high five. Huge.

He hasn't refused the seatbelt since our Wednesday night blow out. While he whines and makes a face, he'll even buckle it himself. Huge.

He's talking. A lot. And loudly! The little guy who spoke only in whispers and head nods our first two weeks in Lesotho now speaks a wide variety of Sesoglish. "Mum! Bapala (play) cars, pease, Mum!" "Mum! Ja (eat) banana, pease, Mum!" "Mum! Spin motorcycle (ride bike - not sure how or why this translated), one time!" "Mum! Mum! Mum!" "Rata (love), Mum, rata!" Huge.

But we still have a lot of healing and adjusting and attaching to do. An outing (to the store, the softball game, the playground) takes a lot of emotional energy out of him, and often results in post-trip overstimulation and/or hyper anxiety. On Friday I told Sam I'd give her $20 if she went to Kroger to buy eggs (we now go through a LOT of eggs.) Sam: "I can't drive." Me: "Don't be such a defeatist. You could at least TRY."

Learning boundaries and obeying Mom and Dad is tricky, tricky, tricky. We're working time-ins (five minutes on Mom or Dad's lap) and logical consequences (cleaning Mom's car (with Mom) after spitting in Mom's car), but it's HARD. Hard, hard, hard. Language barriers and trust issues and attachment needs and developmental age versus chronological age add to the maelstrom of discipline difficulty. Sometimes he seems older than six (carrying in groceries (on his head!), whacking the whiffle ball, drumming a complicated beat on a drum he made out of cardboard) and other times he seems closer to age three ("No! No bath! No! Stop it!", "Mum! Pease up!"). Epic tantrums. Epic, rage-filled tantrums.

Hard. But worth it.