Motherhood: The Battle (2003 - 2012)

Sorry I have been away for a while. Honestly things have been so nuts with moving and what not, I haven't felt truly inspired to write. As you can tell by the crazy diversity of posts here, I only write when I feel inspired. It works better for me but it's also hard because those are usually the most open posts emotionally speaking.

This is one of those posts.

Mother's Day is coming up.

Mother's Day comes with a lot of painful, tearful, gut wrenching baggage for me. It used to be a day that I dreaded all year. It used to be yet one more very painful reminder of what I didn't, and couldn't, have. It was quietly sobbing at home in the bathroom after yet another church service where I couldn't stand up. It was calling my sister and mother and wishing them a Happy Mother's Day and trying not to hear the pity in their voice. It was listening to other moms talking about how they couldn't wait to just take a break and have a day away from their kids on Mother's Day...and then trying not to judge and die a little on the inside as I sit in my empty house without squeals of laughter to fill it. It was a retched reminder of what was already known to be missing in my life. Mother's Day was one of those days where I just wanted to crawl back in to bed and wake up the next day.

With all that being said, I do love to celebrate Mother's Day now that I am a mother. I saw an article asking pastors to be more aware of the pain of the childless by force and asking them to be more sensitive. I totally get that...but at the same time, as a mother of three....I want that time to stand. I want to be acknowledged. Motherhood is it's own challenge and, while it hurt like hell to not have that for so long, it deserves a day to be recognized and celebrated.

Mother's Day, for me, is like celebrating the victory over a glorious battle or war. That is because becoming a mother was a battle for me...a long intense, emotionally draining, exhausting battle. Nothing has been easy for me to become a mother. No step was simple. I didn't just get to decide to become a mother. I had to work tooth and nail to earn the right to be called mom. I had to put myself out there for the world to see and judge. I had to fight with every fiber of my being and then step back and hope like hell that everything would fall into place. I had no control and I wanted to give up more times than I can count. I had to endure so much pain to even have the chance to be a mother.

Mother's Day is a day for me to remember....

I remember going through infertility and walking into Babies R' Us to buy a baby gift for a friend with a knot in my throat, feeling like I was an impostor for being there.

I remember holding back my jealousy and tears when my sister called and told me she had her first baby and I heard that sweet newborn cry in the background.

I remember how going to church was so hard because all you saw were happy families all around you.

I remember sitting outside that fertility clinic with my head on the steering wheel...sobbing until there were no tears left and asking my Grandma in heaven to please help me keep going on.

I remember being so freaking pissed off at God...

I remember all that hope...that whole month where you just "knew" that this was it...then the heart stopping pain that followed yet another negative test. I remember calling my mom and the pain in her voice as well because she couldn't fix it for me.

I remember that moment...that moment when I knew I would never ever be pregnant or have a child biologically. I remember the grieving that we went through...the silent tears and pain of not only your personal loss but then to see your spouse in pain as well.

I remember all the stress of starting the adoption process....(all three times) I remember how daunting everything felt...how it can feel like all your insecurities and weaknesses are on display.
 
I remember reading all those books about adoption and being so scared to death that our child would hate us that we almost quit the whole process.

I remember walking out of orientation that first time and being so emotionally exhausted that we could barely make it home.

I remember rocking myself back and forth and sobbing uncontrollably the day we were told to turn around...that the parents changed their mind and would be parenting their child.

I remember how cold and lonely the house felt that next day...

I remember driving three hours with red-rimmed eyes and hoping that this time would be different and we would make it there without being turned away.

I remember driving back home with the child we had always wanted and calling my sister because after all those years of preparation, I didn't even know how to make a bottle.

I remember wanting a second child so badly and yet being so being terrified to start the adoption process again...so terrified to get hurt again.

I remember shaking as we and prepared to call a mom who was thinking about placing with us and hoping like hell I wouldn't screw up.

I remember watching another mother's soul get crushed as she handed over her newborn child to me...all because she wanted him to have more than she felt she could give. I remember being in awe for the second time of that amount of love...

I remember informing Brewerman that there was no way my 2 day old child and his social worker were flying with out me as we waited for our fingerprints to go through and I was buying a one-way ticket no matter what it costs whether he liked it or not. I remember Brewerman immediately agreeing and paying the outrageous one-way ticket without a second thought. I remember falling in love all over again with that man at that moment.

I remember sitting in another town with Lil'Dude and waiting on the phone call that our fingerprints went through and we could pick up my child. I remember being so worried that he thought his mommy abandoned him.

I remember choking back tears when we learned about a little girl that needed us. I remember forcing myself not to drive there right then and get her.

I remember lying in the hotel room at 2am wide awake and praying for a little girl I barely knew. I remember being so worried that she wouldn't like us that I couldn't eat or sleep.

I remember calling the social worker and being a mess after that first meeting and having her talk me down from a ledge as we drove away from that little girl. I remember how wrong that felt...to be driving away from her.

I remember watching as a little girl got to pick out a dress that would be all hers...watching her eyes light up with joy...because she felt pretty for the first time in a long time.

I vividly remember the first time that each of my children called me mommy.

I remember each and every moment where we finally knew we would be parents again. I remember each day that we took placement of our children, and I remember how exhilarating it was. I remember how lucky I felt to be a mom again.

I remember the responsibility I felt after placement of each child. The huge weight that each of us mothers have, to raise our children to the best of their ability.

I remember my back being sore those first few weeks after placement of all three of my kids...that specific lower back pain that only us moms know...from carrying around our children.

I remember walking up to my room one night...and seeing legos...dolls...and a few books scattered on the floor...and just smiling.

Once I became a mother, the challenges didn't stop there. I am a parent to a child that has some serious struggles with ADHD. I have three children that were adopted, one at the age of two, and each have very distinct stories. I am a white mother with two black children and one white. I am a mother who lives 5 hours away from their extended family. I am a mother who works full time. Everything surrounding Mother's Day comes with such emotions for me because Motherhood itself comes with such emotions....such strong emotions of love, pain, exhaustion, hope, worry, pride...

But...

I am a mother.

After all that....I am who I always wanted to be...a mother. Not a better mother, not a worse mother, just a mother.

I am a mother to three amazing children. Every second of every pain is worth it when I feel the joy that comes when I think of how perfect my family is.

Mother's day is a celebration alright...but it's also a time to remember the fight, the intense battle that it took to become what my family is right now...to get the pleasure and honor of having the three best children in the entire universe call me Mom.

The Pinterest Incident

You know those pinterest projects you see online? You are like "WOW, that is so easy! I could totally do that!!" I have had many of those moments as we get ready for our new home. I have been somewhat......inspired.

This particular incident has nothing do with the kids. I can't even blame it on the kids, though I'm sure if you gave me enough time I could figure out a way to. This is all me baby...and Brewerman. Who was no help at all as he was laughing like a hyena. 

It all started with a kitchen table. I found one that could actually sit us all on the cheap, it just needed painted black. No problem right? I might even "distress" it oooooooo because that is REALLY easy when I am sitting on my fat butt looking at Pinterest.

I go to the local Sherman Williams store.

I want something that LASTS I say, oil based paint - he says! I buy, he smiles, I wince as I pay, then I leave. Of course I want to start RIGHT away so I get to sanding. This is easy! I am loving this. Psh, people pay hundreds for this and look at me, just kicking it out. Vanerellian stopped by and asks me slowly "You plan on doing all of this tonight?" I smirk, "Of course! Look at me! I'm so cool!" BLAH. 

Anyways, after sanding, I go out to paint. Painting looks so easy, and "is" so easy...if you are painting a 4"x4" canvas square. A dining table (with fancy schmancy legs with fancy schmancy crevices that I just HAD to have) is not. Throw in a bench and 5 chairs with a million poles each and someone should have just punched me in the face a couple times, I'm sure I'd be less sore.

As a painting novice I may have bit off more than I can chew. The round poles on the chairs were like torture devices by the time I got to the fifth gosh darn mother loving chair. At that point the only reason I kept going is because Brewerman told me a couple times that I needed to stop and do the rest the next day. Challenge accepted.

At one point I got paint on my arm, then the other arm, then I looked like a tattooed biker complete with face tattoos and a pissed off attitude. I dipped my hair in the paint lid can that I decided to keep in the middle of the floor like the idiot I am. I immediately went to wash it out, Brewerman told me to just let it dry first. I shrugged and went on my painting freaking way.

FINALLY I get done. Last f#$&*# bench is done and painted. My hands resemble cramped up claws, but it was done. 

Now time to clean up.

Wait.

Oil freaking-Based freaking paint.  

Hmmm...okay well paint thinner will have to be used for my biker arms. That worked well even though I was sure I just gave myself cancer. 

Now for a shower.

Wait.....remember that "dipped my hair in paint". Huh, that chunk o' paint is now holding half my hair in one giant dried up rubberish worm like...thing.

I go for shampoo....well that didn't work. F&*#$(& Brewerman. "Just let it dry." 

I immediately scream at him from the bathroom and we have a five minute discussion on paint thinner in my hair and if it will bleach. As the glob that is my hair refuses to give one last time I just tell him to go for it.

And that is where we went wrong, folks. Terribly...terribly...wrong.

B: "Cup your hand and I will pour thinner in it and just rub it in your hair."

N: "Oh god just hurry! My hair! Oh my god, my hair!!" 

B: "Okay here we go."

N: "Okay it's working"

B: "Holy shit"

N: "WHAT!?!? What!?! Oh god, am I a blond?"

B: "Oh my gosh, Natalie, look down."

*Gray streaks of watered down paint thinner and paint are pouring down me. Except it's oil-based...they don't go away!! I look like a bruised prostitue from the 20's complete with the rolls."

N: "GAAAAAH, Brewerman GET IT OFF!! What the hell!!?! I freaking TOLD you I shouldn't have let it dry. What is going on!?! AHHHHHH!"

*Brewerman is laughing his ass off.*

At this exact moment, paint thinner gets in my eyes from what once was normal hair and is now dripping poison and paint.

N: "OWWWW!! SOB *beep, beep, beep* I have paint thinner in my eyes!" *Wildly throws my arms in the air.*

B: "Shut the water off!!"

N: "I can't see! I'm dying!!"

B: "Oh god, I'll shut it off"

N: "Ahhhhhh my eyes!"

Brewerman starts laughing again as we realize the full amount of grey that is now splattered all over me. Then immediately stops laughing as we realize it is splattering all over our about-to-be-sold shower. I would have too but my eyes were swollen shut by that time.

B: "Oh shit. It's all over!! We have to get this off the shower! SOB!! Why does this always happen when we sell our homes!? Here!" 

Brewerman then throws paint thinner all over the shower and hands me a towel.

N: "Screw the shower, wipe me off!! Is it working? Dah my eyes! I can't see! Stop laughing you jerk! It's still coming! It wont stop dripping grey paint."

B: "Seriously Natalie, this is so freaking funny."

N: "If I could see right now I would punch you."

Finally I wash my hair in the bath 5 times and four more times including vinegar and olive oil and it finally stops dripping grey death. Brewerman is still laughing. Good news is paint thinner takes off years of grime in the shower so it's never been cleaner. My hair seems to not be too bleached but I still smell like paint thinner, and my hands are still cramped into creepy looking claws. 

Did I mention everything still needs a second coat tomorrow? I also just read that paint thinner makes your hair fall out and bleaches it down to the root. I am going to be one sexy lady. Freaking google..

***Sorry for the cussing. Not really. I may or may not be a tad high right now from paint fumes.***

Lil'Miss and the Fabulous Birthday Tea

Lil'Miss turns three next weekend. Don't ask me how in the H-E-Double-Hocky-Sticks that happened so fast. It's the day after Brewerman turns the big huge THREE OH! I decided throwing a birthday party for his daughter on his 30th birthday would be a special kind of torture so in a weak moment, chose to have the party this past weekend instead.

I had big plans people...huge....involving hats and pearls and pink lantern....rented rooms and soft music.

Well then we decided to move. Add on a layer of "we just signed a contract on both homes and are moving at the end of March" and uh yeah...stress was at it's full high.

The party then got moved to the house to make it easier. Yup...."make it easier". I actually thought that. Boy was I stupid.

Anywhosers. I didn't plan much pre-party...I also did something I never thought I would do....I got someone else to do her cake. I know, I know...but listen...house on market + cake ingredients = kill me now. I also wasn't thinking March was already almost here so two week pre-party I sent out invites around here thinking I had months to go...I even put "Save the Date" on it.

Three days before the party I ran to Target for some plates and thank the heavens and stars I found the cutest patterns and finally I got into it. It was really hard to come up with just the right amount of "cute, fun, tea, not-british" theme. Plus I found adorable little hats for all the girls to take home as well. I had some gumpaste roses too I needed to use so all the girls got to paint roses. It was supposed to be "NO BOYS ALLOWED" but of course they totally crashed the party. It was okay though as they spent most of the day outside running around like hoodlums.

My mom ended up being able to come down for it too which was so cool. We had some family friends' daughter getting married in our city that weekend so she caught a ride with my Aunt Darkla.

Friday night I set everything up (thank heavens I didn't listen to Brewerman who was making fun of me the whole time about how much time we had the next day). I was so happy with it, and it was just perfect for my little bear.

By the time Saturday came we had soccer in the morning and the entire day pre-party was running around like chickens without heads.

**Side note: Lil'Dude scored FIVE goals in his game that week. One of them he kicked purposely up in the air away from the cluster of kids then broke away with the ball to score. Whoa. Proud momma. Also, on a proud wife side: Brewerman ended up coaching three games that morning as one of the coaches was really sick. He owned it and all the parents loved him. Back off folks, he's mine.**

Lil'Dude running it in

Getting ready to score!

Brewerman coaching

So needless to say after soccer, we busted tails to get home and be able to make it to change and set up for the party. It was so fun and a lot of chaos. I forget how much of a whooping parties, seriously you end the day thinking of all the stuff you didn't do (like...you know...actually SERVE TEA) and who you didn't talk to. It was a lot of fun for Lil'Miss though and besides spilling some paint on the carpet (EEEEEEEK) everything went rather well! She loved all her goodies and we were sugared up for quite some time. Thank heavens for a back yard they can run around in.



Nana and Lil'Guy



Nana and Lil'Dude

Beautiful Birthday Girl

The Fabulous Birthday Tea

The Table Setting



Surrounded by her mounds of presents



Mounds of Food

Sorry these next photos are turned. I have tried uploading them three times and they are right until I press upload. I'm too lazy to figure out why it's happening but you get the drift. 

Candles



Giggles as she refuses to blow out her candles



Her Birthday Tea Cake

Every pearl in the house

It was a great day and Lil'Miss had a fantastic time, which is really all that mattered. She loved dressing up and for many it was the first time they had met her. I will post something mushy on her birthday...I can't believe this little sunshine is going to be three already. She just amazes us. I am going to post some pictures of her 4 months ago too, it's amazing how much she has grown!

Did I mention she was fully potty trained? No...well I don't want to brag...but will anyways! This chick stays dry at night, nap, day...she's like a potty ninja I tell you!

Moving Sucks.

That wasn't a very positive title was it?

Well it's true folks. Nothing about moving is fun except for the fact that you are hopefully gaining more or better space.

Even that doesn't make all this work seem like it's worth it. It really is the epitome of suck.

Alas, we are busting out of the seams of our current house. Yes. Busting out, I say. Just picture a house bulging out and being held together by a single nail with a little bead of sweat coming down it's head from all the pressure building. That makes me giggle. We really do just have entirely too much junk: toys, paper, holiday decorations, nick-knacks, children's books, fat and skinny clothes, just STUFF.

I should just throw it all away....but alas my hoardish / cheap ways come into full swing because most of that stuff we just "might NEED" someday.

Whatever. It's totally true. Then I will laugh crazily as I make my Belgian waffles and stare at my 50 or so empty picture frames that have yet to be hung 5 years later...since that requires I actually print pictures every few years.

Anyways, we have found our dream house. It's gorgeous. It's big. More importantly, it's perfectly painted so that I will never have to paint again. Now that they've accepted the offer (and on the off chance they read this award-winning multi-reader blog) I can tell you how much we adore it.

We adore it. Alot.

That means the most horrific awful absolutely dreadful thing must happen....we have to put our current house on the market. Yuck. I do adore my quaint little house. It's actually not that small but it sure does seem like it when you add a bossy little two year old and every one of her purses. So, we got a realtor who we really like....and we agreed to a price (that should be spot on since the other real Realtors we interviewed and one skeezeball of a realtor all said the same). After that, they gave us a few tips, and we spent the next 48 hours going non-stop cleaning, decluttering, painting, fixing, repairing, mowing, more decluttering, even more cleaning, and more painting.

First of all, can I just apologize to every person who has ever been to my house in the last three years? I have never realized how horrifying it was...I mean I never even realized how disgusting it was!? I guess you just never realize how filthy your house is until you take a magnifying glass to it. Yeck. We did though...we cleaned a LOT and then we decluttered and moved all the "extra" to the garage. It's pitiful to see that this is just our extra and we can barely fit it in the garage. We then went on to paint walls, baseboards, and doors and repair anything that needs it. Then we had to repaint everything after we stupidly told the kids not to touch the walls...which led to every single one of them touching the walls. Psh. Rookie mistake.

****Of course if you are reading this and would like to buy our beautiful house let me tell you I exaggerate so much, I mean really this house is gorgeous and smells like a rainbow after rain...with a touch of unicorn and poppy to it. I am in awe of how absolutely perfect this house is and really you should buy it. Now. Today preferably.****

Because if I have to tell six little grubby hands to keep off the walls one more time I might just lose it people. Keeping a show in home condition with a 2, 4, and 6 year old is probably the worst job in the entire universe. It wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't for the fact that I want it perfect...because I want that sucker gone. I mean it can't get any worse, that's for sure. I even have to make my bed. No, like every single day! What!?

I'm already over the whole silly thing. We need to sell this thing tomorrow because I can only smash a days worth of laundry in our hamper...which that means I have to do laundry, like every single day.

Luckily our new almost-home is just about 4 blocks away so when we do finally sell our current home, we can just have the kids move all our junk on their bikes. Yay for having three kids to do your heavy lifting!

God is good all the time.

As I said we have been behind on all the going-on's that have taken place these past few months.

I sort of feel like we have been hibernating in our hole for three months and are just now peeking our head out into the sunlight again.

Oh, hello world. You kept spinning? That was rather unthoughtful of you.

Well during that time in our little hidey-hole we have had an unexpectedly early Adoption Finalization, a great quiet Christmas, Lil'Dude's birthday, Lil'Miss got baptized, and I have gained back 10 pounds.

I will try to go through each fantastic happening in as few words as possible (oh stop laughing you bunch of smartelics loyal readers).

First off - we had family pictures done! They turned out gorgeous despite 4 out of 5 of us being very very crabby that day. Next time I will not schedule so much the weekend of family photos. It was just shy of torture and we all left mad at each other. Poor photographer. She worked her magic though because there were some great ones. Amazing with five people, three of which are 5 and under. I really really adore the tea set one. Come on, how awesome is my kid? Thank you Christine Atkins Photography!

 Finalization was...Amazing, Emotional, a Circus.....we got a call that we could finalize by the end of 2012 in order to help some families receive the adoption tax credit (it was set to expire and no guarantee that it would be extended, which we now know it was). We went to the courthouse, waited a long while, then finalized along with about 10 other families. It was awesome, the boys got to hit the gavel, and each got their own teddy bear. The judge then asked if they wanted a sister and they both whispered yes...when asked if they would share their toys there was silence. Then two begrudging..."okays" could be heard. Quite hilarious!

On the way out, Lil'Guy had already left so Lil'Dude grabbed two teddies, then Lil'Guy turned around and saw Lil'Dude's TWO teddies so he went and grabbed two teddies. I grabbed one teddy from Lil'Dude, who screamed because he wanted the other teddy, then did the same with Lil'Guy, who also cried because he thought Lil'Dude got two. Whew. Yes....it was like I was going around and around with two little heathens while the entire courthouse roared in laughter as it was much like a circus full of tiny clowns. Never a dull moment folks.

Lil'Dude was enamored with the judge.

Lil'Dude banging the gavel.

Lil'Guy banging the gavel.

 Christmas was great...it was quiet, we didn't go back to KS this year, but the grandparents came to our house to spoil the kids completely. We were going through some tough transition phases at that point so we kept close to the house. It was a wonderful, and a little hard, but I'm so glad we decided to do that. For us, staying quiet and at home and getting a good routine has been huge on our ability to attach properly. It has made a huge difference and we still try to keep it quiet when we feel ourselves becoming overwhelmed. Oh. OH! It snowed!!! Can you believe it? Snow in Texas on Christmas?! Crazy! Lil'Dude even predicted it the week before. The kids adored it...well...so Lil'Miss not so much with the cold wet stuff, but she did love drinking the hot chocolate.

They also got to meet Santa earlier in the month. Yay for us it was a creepy Santa that obviously couldn't close his legs and lost his hair. Lil'Dude was NOT happy that the jerk kept holding his hands down too. Come on dude, the kid isn't 6 months old.


Crappiest $20 photo ever.



Lil'Dude turned 6 in January and the same weekend we went to KS for Ella's baptism! It was a crazy busy weekend and Lil'Dude got to go bowling and ride go karts. The next day, we had a big party with tons of chili and Ninjago Dairy Queen Ice Cream Cakes surrounded by all our family in Kansas that it had been so long since we had seen. Sorry, I heart run-on sentences apparently. I can't believe my little big man is 6. Two hands to show your age people. TWO HANDS!!

Best Ice Cream Cake ever. Love my hometown DQ.

Look! I need two hands!

 

Lil'Dude on the Go Karts

 

 Ella was baptized on the same gorgeous day as Lil'Dude's party. She thought that was the coolest thing ever only because she got to where her a pretty dress and twirl around like a princess. We did a double baptism with my adorable nephew (and Brewerman's Godson), Bestbabyever since we were all each other's Godparents. Bestbabyever's dad was Ella's Godfather, my sis-in-law Danananner was both child's Godmother, and Brewerman was my nephew's Godfather. Whew. Did you get all that? 

Lil'Miss was gorgeous, and giggly, and she did amazing baptism and at the party after. She wasn't nervous or anxious. It was the first time she really came out of her shell for strangers and it made my heart soar. Christmas at home and not visiting KS was hard, but it was so great knowing our hard work paid off and she was able to enjoy herself. She was beaming most of the day....seriously folks God is so real and shining through her. I don't like to get really emotional or too corny on here but man there are times I look at her and it amazes me how God works. I imagine a little party in heaven was had that day as Jesus welcomed her into his church. This day was really really special for me, and meant so much to me that people came to celebrate with us.

The whole gang.



In her "Pretty Dress" that she refused to take off.



Gorgeous? Yes.



  

My heart.

  

God is so good.



 

Five hungry people squeezing in to church clothes = this.



Lil'Guy & the Ultimate TMNT Obsession

This blog isn't for you.

I know.

Rude.

Sorry about that (kind of).

This blog is for me. Well, really it's for future can't-remember-sh...er...anything me. It's for the day that my youngest son is finally taller than I am. It's for the first time (yes I'm assuming there will be more than one) I get a call from school about my youngest smart mouth son and some sort of fight happening. It's for when he stays out too late and finds me waiting up for him, ready to lay into him. It's also for that time when he walks off for that first date with the girl that just isn't ever going to be good enough for him.

This blog is about my favorite 4 year old in the universe right now...Lil'Guy...or should I say Teenage Mutant Ninja Lil'Guy.

This dude is obsessed you guys. For real. No, seriously. He is totally off the wall with Ninja Turtles. Have I dated myself enough with these references born in 2002? No? Well my Lil'Guy seriously thinks Ninja Turtles are all that and a bag of chips. They are, in his eyes, da bomb diggity.

I love it.

He has every toy (literally) made this year. He has paraphernalia everywhere. He has a TMNT lava lamp. He carries a weapon from one of them every second that he isn't at school or church. He wears a mask every chance he gets. He would watch the movies 24 / 7 if he didn't have an older brother that is so over TMNT.



Leonardo with his Leonardo Go Kart riding for big brothers birthday.
Yes he did coordinate that car with his mask.



He bawled his eyes out when I suggested turning one of his cheaper / crappier Ninja Turtle action figure toys into a Christmas ornament (after not finding any that year in any stores).

Oh the horror.

He then bawled his eyes out again when his new $20 ornament (that I special ordered from Amazon thankyouverymuch) came in and he had to put it on the tree instead of hoarding it with his others in his TMNT laundry bag.

Sorry Lil'Guy. Not feeling sorry for you at all.
I paid $7 in shipping alone. The ornament stays on the tree. Forever. 

Every week he tries to find a reference for that week's letter to TMNT so he can bring his TMNT toys to show and tell. This week was "I", finally feeling sorry for him I gave him the suggestions of "intelligent" for Donatello. Then we figured out Iron Man and thought it was more appropriate so he sulkily agreed to take that instead (he had brought Donatello 40 times already for show and tell...don't feel too sorry for him). Speaking of figures...he always artfully takes the four ninja turtles and arranges them each day where they are together in a pack. Most days we find them on the coffee table like this:

TMNT Kumbaya.

Which, yes, means most days Lil'Dude's greatest joy in life is when he knocks them all down and hears his brother whine and cry then they usually end in some kind of tumble. Usually it's this time that Lil'Miss gleefully picks up said figures and finally gets to play with them while Lil'Guy is otherwise engaged. Our house is like the best circus show ever. Brewerman and I just sit on the couch with popcorn and pop in whenever there is a high probability of blood.

Back to turtles:

Lil'Guy calls his red bike his Raphael bike. Yes, we normally force the child to wear a helmet, but he snuck off this time without us noticing until halfway through the bike ride. Come on. We have like 4,000 kids now, give us a break.

It's a bird! It's a plane!
No! It's...Michelangelo on Raphael's bike?

He calls the blue cups in our house Leonardo cups. Much to the delight of his K-State obsessed Aunt and Uncle he loves K-State because of Donatello. It's the Donatello Football Team.

Leonardo Santa ready to pass out gifts.

My Lil'Guy would probably pass out if he ever actually met the Ninja Turtles. He gets upset when there isn't a new cartoon out that week. In order to watch the cartoons, he has to pause it so he can go get his weapons and mask on. He would put the whole costume but it's getting a little tight so luckily Nana got him a jacket he can wear instead. After the cartoon is over, during the theme song, he is bouncing around the living room doing some kicking ninja moves.

When new friends come over, if he really likes you, you will get assigned as a Ninja Turtle. Much to my good friends daughter, Myamsoawesome chagrin, if you are a girl, you do not get to be assigned to one. Sorry folks but there are no girl ninja turtles. This is not negotiable people. If you are assigned a ninja turtle for the day, you will get a mask and weapon...unless he happens to want both weapons which in case you get a crappy version of that weapon while he keeps the real one.

No as a matter of fact, he WASN'T happy to be wearing the wrong colored mask / weapon combo.
We were running late, there were threats. We settled on Michelangelo.

A word of caution: if you are assigned a ninja turtle...and you take off that mask and do not want to be one any more. You will then become mortal enemies. Poor little Jo-ulk. Luckily he's too busy quieting his inner-really-really-angry person to care too much about what Lil'Dude thinks. They WILL be BFF's one day though. Vanerellian and I will see to that.

I have never seen this child-like obsession from a child of mine. Lil'Dude gets "into" things, but not like this. Not anywhere near this. Lil'Guy is so obsessed with TMNT it's hilarious.

Most of all, what is the most hilarious, is that when my Brewerman wanted babies he wanted two things: a kid who likes baseball (Lil'Dude), and a kid who liked TMNT (Lil'Guy). God delivered.

What? It's 70 degrees? Who cares.
Go ahead...ask me to take it off.

Pretty freaking awesome people.

One day we will have to retire those masks and action figures. Like Brewerman's mom did when he was 17 and it was getting awkward. I will put away those TMNT action figures in a box once he finally stops playing with them in high school and remember them forever as a piece of my son's childhood. Then he will pry them from my cold hands if he EVER thinks I'm giving them back to him, even as an adult. Unless my grand babies like them. Oy vey. Grand babies.

Did I mention I'm going to be 30 this year? Yech.

Foundation to Attachment

Whew. Sooo...okay it's been a while. I want you to know that in my blogging queue I have at least 20 blogs that I have started and half wrote to be thrown out and never published.

It's hard to form into words how these last couple of months have been for us. It's been wonderful, it's been hard, it's been life-changing.

Every time I start to write a blog, things change and that blog doesn't apply anymore. I mean it can be 10 minutes after I write the stinking thing.

Annoying.

Well I am going to attempt to explain now, and I will apologize if this sounds a little multiple personality-ish.

The best attempt to describe what these last couple of months have been is comparing it to laying a foundation. It's our job to teach Lil'Miss how to attach properly, especially since she hasn't really been shown prior to this what healthy attachment and true loving looks like. We spent the majority of the first month undoing some of the damage that was done before. You are breaking down the wall that this little tiny person has built in order to survive. We were lucky in that the trust was built up pretty quickly, so that wall came down pretty quickly...but isn't all gone yet.

Once you are able to gain their trust and that wall is broken down enough, you focus on laying a solid foundation. If the foundation is laid down too fast, it won't be strong enough. It takes time, and each family is unique in how much time. If the foundation isn't given enough attention, it won't be smooth, if it's given too much attention, you can over-kill it and make everyone miserable. If you try to push it to get done faster  than what you need and are sloppy about it, later down the line it can crumble and fall. This isn't about here and now, this is about here and now and then. It's a big responsibility. It's exhausting.

It is especially so since you are working with a child who doesn't understand what is happening. She doesn't know that you are doing everything so that she can thrive. She doesn't understand why you want to hold her when she doesn't really like to be held...it's completely foreign to her. She resists you because it feels so odd and different than what "normal" has been shown to her to be the last two years. She doesn't recognize it as love, you have to show her that this is what love is. Kids don't like to be told what to do. Two year olds like it even less.

So you keep laying down foundation as best as you possibly can, all the while trying to convince a two year old that you are doing this because you love them. You aren't perfect...you aren't a craft at your trade. We aren't taught by our parents how to attach, because we didn't have to be, it came natural to most of us, it is natural for a baby / infant to attach to it's caregiver. It's harder as they get older, as they lose the need for constant care giving and snuggles...plus each month as they get less and less of what they emotionally need from the previous caregivers, they build up a wall. They come to you with a wall already put in place. A wall with no foundation at all.

You are also human. You aren't perfect, and no matter what or how many books you have read, you will screw up, have to undo the damage, then start over again. You lose your temper...you lose patience. You watch this little tiny person that you are putting so much effort and energy into loving spite you and not want you to touch them, and you take it personally. They don't want you. They refuse to say I love you. They only want your spouse. You reach to hug them and they turn away. You ask if they missed you and they say no. You feel rejected and it makes you want to build up your own wall between the two of you so it won't hurt so much.

In your head...you know...you realize that it's unreasonable for you to feel this way. You are the adult, they are the child. Sometimes, though, well sometimes it just hurts. There are going to be good days and bad days, good weeks and bad weeks. The attachment for us is getting stronger and that is what I try to focus on, it's getting stronger each day. It's so much deeper than three months ago. I love that little girl, and she is loving us as well. She says "I love you" easily, most of the time, and runs to give us a kiss and a hug when we ask her to, most of the time. But we aren't in that sweet spot yet. We still have a ways to go.

I know in my head that this is not only normal, but healthy. You don't want to hurry and pour all the foundation too quickly or at the wrong times. You don't want it weak or at risks for cracks later on. A healthy, normal attachment period is anywhere from 6 months to a year.

Knowing this doesn't make me feel any less guilty, it seems. I still struggle with expecting too much out of myself. At the same time, I am honest with myself and have to sort of "redirect" myself when I feel like I am not doing enough with attachment. I'm not used to having to keep track of how many time I have cuddled my child today. I have two older boys that rarely cuddle and if they do, they certainly don't ask, just plop their big butts into my lap and snuggle in like they own it. Which of course all my kids do. It's not second nature to her either, so I have to show her, I have to focus on asking her and (yes sometimes forcing her in to) cuddling with me. With work and school and house it seems like I just don't spend enough time playing and taking the time that I need with her. I forget that. I forget that just three months ago her world was rocked. Then when I remember I feel guilty and down. I mean, what kind of mother forgets to love on her child!?

It's those times that I have to have an inner dialogue with myself. I can't focus on that or I will go crazy. I need to focus on what's important.

She is loved.

She is happy.

She is healthy.

She is thriving.

No, that's not even the right word...she is blossoming...and smiling and giggling. Her eyes sparkle and her cheeks are full and rosy. Her hair is getting longer and thicker, while her thighs get chunky. She repeats everything we say, which isn't always a good thing). She is a tomboy that loves her shoes. She adores her brothers and makes every day a little more sunny for being in it. She is a true beauty.

So yes, we have a ways to go, but in three short months we have come so far. We are a family. Even though that foundation is still curing and it's not hard and as strong as it will be, it's there...and it's being built to last a lifetime.