I’ve been getting enough junk about not blogging lately that I thought I’d sit down and write one tonight. 🙂
It’s been awhile because:
-I have no pictures
-It’s been too hot to blog (have a hot computer on my lap for more than 1 minute).
-I’m really trying to stay unplugged to technology so I can be “plugged in” to my 5 babes
-By 8pm I am completely exhausted and spend the next 2 hours trying to talk myself into staying awake until 10.
When I kept thinking about what to write tonight, one issue kept coming up. Before I started this I sauntered over to Rebekah’s blog and noticed her post was remarkably similar to what I was going to write. About structure, about comfort, about feelings of safety.
Tariku is struggling. Struggling. Everyone else in the family is doing so well.
Tariku is in a tailspin. This boy who is the sweetest, most loving boy is just clearly feeling like he was put in the rinse cycle.
And it’s so hard, so, so hard to watch him work through this.
I mentioned here about Tariku’s triggers.
I’m trying really hard to keep a schedule, to give Tariku plenty of notice about what’s going to happen for the day/week, etc. But honestly, life with 5 kids has lent itself to a high degree of unpredictability.
Again, he’s still a remarkable boy. It’s not like he’s started to get aggressive or started to do things that are that horrible. But he’s started to make fun of Binyam for random things, play in his bed at night rather than go to sleep, etc. Random things, super random, (quite frankly) annoying things. But it’s not about what he’s doing, it’s about the fact that he continues to do them even when we remind him over and over not to do them.
This is not like him.
Even though my mind tells me he can’t help it, that he’s scared, that he’s trying to find his place in this new family dynamic, it’s hard to get through. Zach is gone a lot with work so it’s just me. And it was super hot last week, turns out I’m not nearly as nice in the extreme heat as I am in a more tolerable climate.
My poor, sweet Tariku.
I hate that I can’t do this one thing for him. I hate that his trauma of the past affects him still. I hate that I can’t heal these wounds for him. I hate that he has these wounds in the first place. I hate, hate that I love him so much and that love is simply not enough in this case. I hate that I can’t look at him and convince him that he will always be with us, a beloved part of this family.
Adoption is not for the faint of heart. It’s not for the people who believe that just loving our babes will always be enough.
Because it takes work, it takes guts, it takes balls, it takes all of these things and more.
If you’re adopting and have these rose colored glasses on, you need to chickity check yourself cuz it’s not all flowers. There are some serious skunks in this flower bed of motherhood.
But I honestly wouldn’t have it any other way. Because being a mother to Tariku has made me a better mother to the other 4. A better wife to Zach. A better auntie to my 3 nephews. A better sister, daughter, friend. A better everything.
And I love him too much. Seriously too much.
We’ll get through this, as we got throuh those first few weeks/months when I kind of, sort of, hoped he wouldn’t always be in our family.
We got through that and now we’re on the other side, when I need him in this family.
So I’ll hug him when I feel like screaming, I’ll smile when I feel like crying, I’ll whisper “forever” when he feels like “no more”. I’ll do all of this.
Because this is adoption. This is family. This is now, it’s then, it’s someday. It’s all of that.
Today, and everyday, we lean on Grace more than ever before.
It’ll come, it always will.
And when it does, he’ll know I’ll always be his mommy, and he’ll always be my baby. Always. Always.