My baby slept in his Big Boy Bed last night. He was thrilled and gave me a "what the hell took you so long" look as we set everything up. We waited ages for the part that converted his crib to this Big Boy Bed. Mind you, only the front has a low railing. The rest of the four sides are the same as they were in its original crib form. More milestones...my baby boy is growing up. Next week he'll come home with a tattoo.
So we made an offer on a great flat and had to take it back because we realized we'd get killed whenever we cooked or turned the heat on...it was all electric. Jeez...but the bedrooms were HUGE! The closets! So many closets! A place to eat your food too! Ohhh it was lovely...and of course there's nothing else in the area that meets our criteria. What a pain in the ass...but I'm determined to find something, somewhere...
In an attempt to give my son a decent life, we are biting the bullet and purchasing a home. We're in the discouraging Looking Stage at the moment but the czar seems to like the idea of a new place to live. And it will be another flat...but it will be ours. We visited a few last week and spent our nights looking at listings (hence the no-posting situation here). Tomorrow we'll visit three in the area. They don't look attractive on the outside but they've got two bedrooms and s-p-a-c-e. My favorite is right next to a gas station. Like the gas station is. right. there. when you step outside of the door. Most would scream and run away but I just see that as a solution to my usual "oh shit, I need gas" mornings.
And I think of my friend Espe who wants me to move to New Jersey...
Kate tagged me to choose six words that suit me best...at the moment they're creating a better life for us.
Tomorrow is the day we became a family. Twelve long weeks after we met him, we were back in St. Petes for court. It will be one year...it's so strange...strange because it feels like he's been around forever. This little czar evolved from baby to little boy in one year, right before my eyes.
I sat and read my posts from 2007. I revisited my struggles, my fears and my road blocks and I realize now that becoming a mother to an adopted child was the most difficult thing I've ever done. I had no idea how much work went into attachment or just plain ol' mothering. I just know that on July 3, 2007, a St. Petersburg judge granted us immediate custody of a toddler — a very active toddler who did and didn't do a lot of the normal toddler things, enhanced with a handful of post-institutional stuff. Thank God for the adoption bloggers...you guys validated me and my concerns and picked me up off the floor when the folks in the real world saw my struggles as pure bullshit. You know, it was rough, but it was also the most wonderful. I wouldn't change a thing. Really. Because I'm starting to believe that some things happen for a reason. I had to hit bottom in order to evolve into the capable mom I am today. Stop laughing about that capable thing. I really had lots to learn and I needed to check my ego at the door.
I still have a lot to learn too.
Things really have changed around here. Three individuals have learned to function as a family. There's laughter and love and some exhaustion and it's really wonderful. I love my little czar so much, it scares the hell out of me...and I am so proud to me his mother...and I am so proud of his accomplishments. Everything I do is for him. My goals for my son are simple: I want him to have the good life he deserves. I want him to have health, happiness and opportunity...and mostly, I want him to love and be loved.
I think we're off to a good start.
My buddy Beagle is a mommy!
After walking the infertility road with me for what seemed like ages, we simultaneously pursued the adoption path. I went international, she went domestic. I got The Call last year, she got The Call this past Friday...and is now holding her three-day old son. And he's beautiful. And I am so happy for her. Like ridiculously happy...there were a bunch of us in my IF circle and I think we've all managed to create our families, somehow, some way.
Pretty cool.
Moments ago, the livingroom floor was littered with ever toy the czar owns. There were cars sitting on the bathroom mat. An army tank was tucked halfway under the refrigerator. A bookcase was disassembled in the czar's bedroom and its contents sat in a huge pile. The czar scaled the walls, climbed on chairs, ran throughout the flat and crawled under the bed chanting "yeah, baby." The rockinghorse was pushed on its side and I actually felt sorry for it. The cat ran for shelter.
The fun came to an end with a screaming fit and some tears, for no apparent reason of course. He is asleep now and I sit here exhausted. The mess looks extra terrible because this place is so small and the disaster areas actually overlap. I'm leaving it for my husband to see.
I gotta ask — where the hell does this energy come from?? And this kid is kept busy during the day, believe me. It's amazing...
And I did consult amazon for a parenting book that would solve all my problems...but there isn't one. In fact, I'm not sure what I was even looking for. My son is two and I have to remind myself that this is the fun that comes along with two...if I keep repeating it, I'll start believing it.
And Typepad fixed their problems and I love them.
My son woke up at 6 AM whining/crying for Blue's Clues. He had 8 hours of sleep under his belt — definately not enough for him to function properly. He ended up at my bedside "crying" for mommy to come with him and watch Blue's Clues. I stayed in bed and talked to him as he emitted a sympony of noise. I wasn't going to give in to this rant so he could watch tv. My goal was to talk to this kid and find out why he's freaking out...and usually this works. Really. His father, on the other hand, promptly got up and placed the child in front of the glowing box in the livingroom.
"Look he stopped crying." he snapped. 'All because you wanted to sleep."
And I thought to myself: Wow. Are you friggin' kidding?
Then he gave me a speech about mothering and barked at me for turning down my son's needs. "He's only a child." he said.
Wow...
And I thought about his mother in Greece handing my son chocolate and cookies the size of his head because he was "in need." Then I thought about the bath my son needed last night — the one my husband was supposed to give his son last night but couldn't because the final episode of Ugly Maria was on Greek tv. (That's the Greek version of Ugly Betty.)
I shot back at him because that's what I do best but stopped short of yelling and getting downright nasty because the little boy in desperate need of Blue's Clue's was perched on my lap. He pissed me off...
By 7:15 AM, the czar was back in bed ready to snooze and my husband was off to work...It's 9 AM now and I'm still pissed. And this is the sort of stupid shit that happens in our household.
The czar is snoozing away in his dark bedroom, covered in blankets, pillows and whatever else he threw on himself. I'm tempted to do the same this morning. The only thing stopping me is my cup of coffee. It came out really well this morning. Could just be the new Coffee Mate flavor...or the fact that I am alone in air conditioning surrounded by silence.
We are recovering from my nephew's baptism, which was this past Sunday. Yours truly is his godmother :) I ate like a horse at the reception and the czar ran around for four hours with his three female friends. I watched him work the crowd and I can see that I'll be in trouble when the dating years come around. He smiles and gets his way. Everyone commented on his energy and said they felt sorry for me...the only one who was really sorry was my niece who offered to babysit while I had some time to inhale more food. So it was a Day of Overstimulation and the czar is still trying to recover. I'm hoping he catches up today. Having a cranky, evil czar walking around is no fun.
And I'm working...and that's all I can say about that.
I just checked on the sleeping czar and thought life with the czar is getting easier. He's a bit head strong at times and has learned the fine art of manipulation but things have been better around here...I still want to drink in a closet sometimes, but not as often. A big achievement for us is that he now willingly holds our hands when walking to the car. He did this when he first came home but began to fight us a few months ago. He'd insist on being carried. If he didn't get his way, he'd lay down in the middle of the parking lot, run under a parked car or hit. Now, we open the door and he stands there with his hand oustretched. It makes me very happy.
In a few weeks we'll be home a year...I'm sure I'll be surprised at the changes in the czar when I sit and re-read what I've written in this blog. The every day insanity prevents me from remembering all that.
I had a post here...I saved it. Now it's gone...Typepad has new and exciting publishing tools and apparently I don't know what the hell I'm doing. This is the second time this happened.
Shit.
