Somehow, it’s been over 9 weeks since B3 came to live with us full-time. That’s just nuts to me. Sometimes it feels like it’s been 9 minutes, and other times it feels like he’s always been here. I’ve written this post in my head a billion times, but I haven’t known what to say so I’ve been avoiding my computer. That, and by the time we get him to bed at night all I want to do is lie on the couch and watch my newest addiction (Mad Men, at the moment) in the 30 minutes I have left before bed. This has been a huge adjustment on us all, but we’re starting to get a handle on it.
So far things are going exactly as we expected. We had a couple good weeks with a sweet, agreeable, friendly little boy. And then he started to work through the attachment stuff just like we were expecting. And so we had about 6 weeks of….wow. Angry, mean, acting out little boy who didn’t know what to do with all his feelings. In the space of an hour we could go from a happy guy to hitting, kicking, screaming, and clawing. And then poof!, he’d be fine again. We learned that B3 is a master manipulator who is entirely too smart for his own good, but at heart is simply a sweetie who wants love and craves attention. He’s also downright hilarious and goofy, which is good. In addition, it appears the headcount of “People with ADD in Our House” is raised to 3… At least he’s in good company, right?
The past week has been pretty excellent. B3 is starting to understand that Brian and I are in charge and that arguing with us is rather like arguing with a couple of posts. He also learned that running from us is never a good idea since Daddy played football and Mama moves faster than any fat girl ever should. The entire past two months has been full of learning experiences. B3 learned that running through the sprinkler (“sprinkles”) is awesome, and that riding your little motorcycle super fast is fantastic but hitting the ground at that speed sucks. Apparently all things are made better by a Phineas and Ferb Band-Aid, though. Brian and I actually find ourselves discussing the merits of Diego versus the WonderPets (Backyardigans still get my vote every time, though), and 10:30 now feels like 2 AM. Snuggling in bed with a kid may be nice, but snuggling in bed with my kid is rather like trying to hug an octopus made of knees and elbows who never…stops…talking. I also learned not to start something with a 3 year old that you don’t want to continue ad nauseum, for the rest of your freaking life. For example, this kid will expect lemon yogurt-covered pretzels (printzles) after lunch for doing a good job for the rest of his natural life. And I learned that Miss “We Only Eat Healthy Stuff” will happily bribe her kid with food via a behavior chart: Dum Dums for five stars, chocolate pudding at 10, and Reese cups for 15 stars. Hey, Reese cups are clearly his currency — who am I to argue?
All in all, it’s been an hilarious two months, and we’re beginning to feel like we’ve turned a corner. Hey, the monkey is usually eating the majority of his dinner without incident, is finally sleeping halfway decently, and loves to help out around the house. We’ll take it. He’s baffled by cleaning and clapped for me after I cleaned his bathroom last night — where has this kid been all my life?!