Teasing at 3

Jeb is now in a classroom full of 3 year olds daycare. (They make the transition at 2y9m) He is doing amazingly well; in fact, it's the easiest transition I think we've ever had in his life, like, ever. I am so thrilled and proud and have all those gushy mama feelings that come up simply because your kid is thriving.

Ok, so I have to back up a bit. Starting around a year ago, whenever I painted my toes, Jeb wanted in on the fun. So I painted his toes. For months on end his toe nails were pink, since I paint mine every couple of weeks. Bennett rolled his eyes some, but it was a non-issue. One day Jeb decided he wanted his finger nails painted. So I painted them. Every few weeks he'd ask, and I humored him. See where this is going?

2 year olds don't notice their peers' finger nails. 3 year olds do.

I was heartbroken when his teacher told me he got teased for his pink finger nails. My poor baby was so confused. He said to the Teaser but my mama told me it's ok. << This is where my heart shattered into a thousand pieces. (ok, maybe a tad dramatic, but really maybe not.)

My only reason for heartbreak is that my perfect, wonderful, amazing son was sad in that moment, and confused. That just a little smidge of innocence was stripped. Not only that he experienced teasing, but for something so superficial. These kids are only THREE for crying out loud. Rationally I know it's more about this age learning very concrete gender "rules" than anything else, but irrationally I want to slap the Teaser across the face and double dog dare him to EVER tease my precious again.

On the other hand, what an opportunity. Bennett and I had a really terrific conversation about how to handle teasing, and how to handle when Jeb wants to do something that we know makes him vulnerable out there in the Wild. Like having pink finger nails. Do we care about the nail polish? Of course not. I don't give a shit if Jeb wears a hot pink tutu with purple glitter sequence on it every day of his life. But, I won't let him wear it to school until he understands what he's getting himself into. Also, it's not Jeb's job to be my example to the world that I am super cool with hot pink tutu wearing boys.

It's also been a huge opportunity for really terrific conversations with Jeb. I've casually used it as an example of why we shouldn't tease others. He's been talking a lot more about who in our family is a girl, and who is a boy. I've explained that some people think it's silly for boys to wear nail polish, so for now we'll just keep it on the toes since it doesn't feel good to get teased. He's happy with all of this, and I'm sure he's not understanding most of it still, but I've found it to be very very good practice.

Seriously, though, I had no idea that teasing started quite this young.

The Opposite of Last Monday

Today was an incredibly sunny, warm day, but kind of poopy in general. Not a total wash, but just, meh.

- Jeb didn't sleep well last night = I didn't sleep well last night = sluggish morning = not the greatest start to the day.

+ Story Time at the library rocked, as usual, and thank God, because if not for that motivation we might have wasted the entire day.

- I have some kind of infected cyst on my forehead. It hurts, and it's swollen, and it's embarrassing. I have a derm appt for tomorrow, but I'm worried that either 1.)I won't be taken seriously, or 2.)There will have to be some sort of procedure that will leave me looking ridiculous. Oh, and husband didn't offer the exact kind of support I was looking for this morning, which left me choking back tears, and on self pity. Awesome.

- Hormonally this isn't the best time. For some reason CD5-CD7 are always very very low for me. (shrugs)

+ Jeb and I bought an S-load of fruit. It was on my to do list, and dammit, I bought the hell out of some fruit.

- I haven't been running in since Thursday. Very, very bad. And we ate Chinese food last night. So now I'm bloated, and sluggish, and all I've fallen off the wagon! Why even bother?! I'm so fat and lame! And I have a CYST on my FOREHEAD! I sound so fun to be around, don't I?

+/- I've been on vacation for the last 5 nights, and have 2 more. I'm already sad that it's winding down, but thrilled to still have a couple of nights off. I want these last evenings to be fantastic, not full of, well, me. like this.

- If I can't find my way out of this mood, I'll feel guilty which will be like Shit Frosting on Barf Cake.



I really prefer terrific days to poop days.

Here's to hoping: I get a decent run in this evening which completely revitalizes my mood, and that half of my face doesn't have to get cut off tomorrow. fx.

(eta: Didn't get a run in because Husband didn't get home early enough (-), but he did bring me flowers because he knew I was feeling down (+). )

Tribe

Husband and I had the opportunity to go away last weekend. A dear friend of ours was getting married in VA Beach. A dozen mutual friends from Richmond VA were also in attendance. I could write about the ocean view from our room, or the perfect weather, or 2 whole kid-free nights, or the super cute sundress I bought just for lounging around on Sat before the wedding, or a bunch of other awesome vacation-y type things.

But those things aren't what I've been thinking about since we've been home. It's my Tribe. My friends. The handful of couples husband and I grew close to; the support given and received that made life so rich. These are good people. They love us and we love them. All the husbands got along, and all the wives worked together, and we all loved hanging out. It was special, and rare. The relationships were deep, but light hearted. They were genuine, and easy. We've all been to each others' weddings, and inevitabley when the pastor talks about the congregation holding up the new couple and helping them be successful in their marriage, we quietly nod our heads in agreement, taking that commitment very seriously. They have each, in their own way, helped my marriage. In many ways, these people have been more supportive of husband and me than my own family. We can't seem to find our groove in MA; we are struggling to find our Tribe.

This weekend made me feel lonely.

I cried saying goodbye to them. I cried myself to sleep, and I cried while packing up Sunday morning. I cried in the cab on the way to the airport. I've been in a funk ever since.

I just want what's best for my marriage, and my family. I hope we made the right decision to move "home". It sure doesn't feel like home right now.

Adoption and Loss (I know, how original.)

I've been thinking a lot about the things I want to write about, but I've been blocked on how to formulate a post. I feel like there has been a lack of the emotional-happy-squishy component in my posts. (It's probably because I read many newly adopted blogs, in which the emotional-happy-squishy index is incredibly high ;) )It's not that my situation is not happy, I suppose it's that the things that I am processing are some of the flip sides. I'm really happy; I guess that part is sufficiently processed for now.

I've been thinking a lot about the adoptee's sense of loss. We all know about how each member of the triad feels loss, but the adoptee's feels especially hard because they were the only member not making any decisions. Please, don't get me wrong, this is so not going to be anti-adoption. The logistics are what they are, no newborn has much say in much of anything. But I feel really shitty about the fact that originally I hadn't given much thought, at all, to what C might feel in terms of loss. I started giving it some thought when he was around 5. And even then, I always thought: yeah, but we'll explain why I couldn't parent and he'll get it, and thank us all profusely while we ride off into the sunset!

Well, my son feels loss. I've explained to him why I couldn't parent, and he gets it as much as he can without being a pregnant teenager; but he is still really, really sad about it. All of our fantastic intentions, support, and love haven't neutralized his sense of missing and wanting to be with his first family. I can see in his eyes that when he asks "why?" he doesn't want to hear about teen single parenting, he's asking the much bigger, sadder, harder to answer "WHY?!" as in "why did this have to be my story?". He feels the injustice of not having something so basic --- the experience of staying in his first mama's arms. My boy struggles with it. A baby's future temperament is an unknown at the time of newborn adoptions, but oh, I wish it were the one thing we could see with a crystal ball. Some adoptees feel the loss more acutely, some roll with it effortlessly. I do not mean to totally negate parenting, or support from the birthfamily, but I am learning that temperament/personality have much to do with it. My situation is a prefect example of that fact.

I spent the first couple of years post-placement in a very Black and White place, mentally. C was better off, aparents were thrilled, I was going to be able redirect my life, ect. Everything was great, we were all very kumbaya. It was an important part of the grief process, it was my own version of the denial stage. I remember the day my post-adopt counselor said to me "You can be happy for C, but simultaneously sad. You can feel both at once." I was floored. Getting to a place of being able to see both sides, the grey, was not only an important part of being emotionally healthy re: adoption, but it was an important part of moving through adolescence into adulthood.

So, I now revisit that lesson learned. It is incredibly hard to watch your kid struggle, at your hand. The flip side is that I know I made the best decision I knew how, with love and pure intentions. The grey is there in the middle; I find it by sitting with both truths.

My job now, is to acknowledge my son's loss, and show him the relationship we can have, even though it is not that of mama/son. My job is to teach him the lessons I have learned. My job is to help him appreciate the Grey.

Weekend Recap

It was a rather, um, challenging weekend. We went to visit my first born, and were scheduled to speak on a panel at the Tristate Adoption Conference. I was really looking forward to sharing that experience with C, he was too young to participate when I was on the panel in years past.

Unfortunately there was some drama, details that need to remain private, and we did not make it to the conference.

I did manage to spend some good time with C; he is at such a cool age, just on the verge of adolescence. I am really enjoying this age! He is smitten with my 2 year old, and we make a big deal about the fact that they are brothers. C had a tough time when I was pregnant again, and playing up the Big Brother Role has really helped alleviate his fears that J would take his place in my heart. When he found out I was pregnant, he looked at me and asked "are you going to keep this one?", and I could see the hurt in his eyes when I told him "yes". Anyway, I digress...

By the end of the weekend, I was struggling to process some of the events, and I thought again about how we've become an extended family through open adoption. In every family, there are at times, hurt/disappointment/confusion. This family is no different, and it's foolish to think otherwise. It's tempting to get into the mindset that because my bond the adoptive parents is so sacred, that the relationship should be somehow more pure, void of pitfalls. But, it is still made up of people, which means there are going to be some.

I had (and still have) some angry moments, and that's OK. In the past I've been angry with my mother, my sister, or my husband, but it surely didn't break our relationship. This one is no different, because of a really beautiful fact: we are family. It is going to give us an amazing opportunity to role model to C how families deal with some tough stuff.

So, it certainly wasn't our best weekend together, but we'll get through, and all will be well.