After
the joy of embarrassing my husband with last week's
post,
I decided to settle down and write a six month update since we
adopted Autumn. I really thought the five month update would be the
last, but BAM! Autumn started speaking
English. Like overnight. She's not speaking in full sentences, but
is putting together two to three words at a time. So, I figured
while I'm sharing that, I'll share some other tidbits.
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| Howdy Folks! |
As
I've probably mentioned before, Autumn is pretty social. She's
living in a house with three introverts and an ambivert (it's a real
term), so all of this talking to other people stuff is taking us out
of our comfort zones – which is good...I guess. She regularly
greets people we pass anywhere. We were at McDonald's last
week and the kids were playing in the Playplace. I couldn't find
Autumn, so, being the good worrywart concerned parent, I started walking around looking for her. Oh me of little
faith. I found her at a table under the Playplace sitting down with a
family, dining on their french fries and ketchup.
As
also mentioned before, she's very active. I'm pretty sure her future
entails one of the following careers: professional skydiver,
missionary in the Middle East, Navy Seal, or human cannonball.
Here's just a little taste of life with Autumn: I heard her messing
around with the TV, so I went to see what she was doing. She had
turned the TV off via the wall switch, which we've told her not to
do, something like, 2,178 times. I reminded her not to turn off the
wall switch and turned it back on. She picked up a DVD, which she
knew she wasn't supposed to touch. I reminded her and took it away.
She grabbed another DVD and before I could take it, she licked it,
slammed it on the table, went behind me, wiggled her fingers in my
butt crack then took off running before I could grab her. She does
stuff like this at least 186 times a day.
And me being behind a locked door is unacceptable. No matter whether I'm showering or takin' care of business. She wants to be. with. me. So, if I lock her out, that translates into a directive. Locked Door Directive: “Autumn,
please go into Mama's drawers and break, ransack, destroy, and blow
up all of her things. Thank you.” And she does.
She's
getting better with the potty “training”. She's been letting me
know when she needs to go more often. She no longer flings her
diaper across the bedroom at night. Now, she simply removes the
flaps of her diaper, pulls the diaper down, pees all over her bed
like a fire hose, pulls the diaper back up, then repositions the
flaps. I know this because she wakes up in the middle of the night
every night, staggering into my room, with her diaper hanging low on
her hips like a loin cloth. I stagger into her room and change her,
then take her back to bed, check the sheets for wetness and splash my
hand in a puddle of pee. That usually wakes me up.
One
of many surprising blessings is how often Autumn says thank you. She
says it all the time, like every time I hand her
anything.
“Thank you, Mama.” Hearing those three little words in that
precious voice just fills something inside me that's been empty for a
while. It's like a little message to me from God, saying,
I know
this parenting thing is hard; but I'm in it with you. I
so need that some days.
The
kids started gymnastics a few weeks ago. This is where my children's
disobedience
really shines. There are three separate groups
of kids, but all of my kids are in the same group. It's just plain
magical how that worked out. So, here's what I witness, when I'm not
hiding in the bathroom pretending they're not mine.
Josiah
beating Autumn over the head with a carpet square.
Autumn
running to the window to wave hello to me every three minutes.
Sheehan dragging Autumn like a cavewoman back to her carpet square every time
she runs over to say hello to me.
Josiah
trying to use the plastic ring meant for standing in, as a
hula-hoop.
The
teacher tells Autumn to sit. Autumn bounces on the trampoline. The
teacher says jump. Autumn sits. The teacher says, do a somersault.
Autumn runs off, looking over her shoulder, laughing and singing,
“nanny-nanny-boo-boo”.
I was talking with a woman at gymnastics and she asked how things were going. And I told her it's challenging and the transition after an adoption can take six months to a year to get through. She said, “Oh, every mom has a transition like that.” I thought, Wow. I didn't know there were so many six-month old infants running around climbing on toilets and breaking into locked medicine cabinets, then sticking their hand in your butt and saying “nanny-nanny-boo-boo”. I'm so clueless.
We
started homeschooling at the end of August.
Yeah.
Here's
how Day 1 went.
Day
1
- My Plan: Study the Arctic with the boys while Autumn
plays quietly in the basement. (don't laugh)
What
Actually Happened:
Sheehan
made a spy notebook for his stuffed harp seal.
Josiah
drew a giant hockey rink on butcher paper for his hockey figures.
I
studied books of Arctic whales with Autumn as she smacked my
arm (hard) every three seconds because she thought I wasn't paying
attention (which I wasn't).
End
of day: Josiah prayed, “God, thank you for homeschool.”
Day
2: We did everything I planned.
End
of day: Both boys said, “We don't like homeschool.”
Needless
to say, I've made some adjustments and compromises to our homeschool
plan.
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| Slacker parents letting their three-year old go too high on the spiderweb. |
We
were riding in the car the other day and Autumn was singing a song
repetitively and loudly. Sheehan shouted out, “She's
really pissing me off!”
Oh
crap. I thought. Did
he just say...? Steve's gonna kill me. I swear I've only said it
once...maybe twice...I think. I quickly assured him that the
correct pronunciation was “Ticking. She's ticking me off.”
I explained how “pissing me off” probably wouldn't go
over well in Sunday school.
Josiah
piped up, “Well, why do you say it, Mama?”
“I've
said it twice, Josiah. And really it's not about the word, but
what's in your heart. When Mama says that, I've got some anger in my
heart and probably some discontent.” (Conviction pimp slapping me across the face) “I
guess I should probably pray when that happens.”
“Yeah,
that's a good idea.” Sheehan said.
Which
ties into how well I'm doing with that whole not exasperating your
children thing. On multiple occasions I've caught myself screaming,
“Stop yelling!” And I found myself saying, “Stop talking
(garble, garble) with food in your (garble) mouth,” and then
accidentally shot two half chewed Raisinets across the table.
We
took the kids on a camping trip...to the backyard. We agreed to test
the waters before committing to anything bigger. Good thing. Autumn
ended up on the air mattress which left me in her Teletubbies
sleeping bag and Sheehan said he couldn't handle it and went inside
to his own bed.
The
weird thing was that our neighbors, the ones we never talk to (Ha! Like
we ever talk to any of our neighbors; we're introverts), also camped
out in their backyard the same night. They had their tent up a day
ahead of us. And on top of that, the weekend before, they had a yard
sale on a Thursday and ours was on Friday. Of course you know what
they're thinking: Those jerky neighbors that never talk to us are copycats! Well, the following
weekend they bought a fire pit. But, we already have one of those
and had been smoking up the neighborhood with it for two years, so
mnaahh.
Well, that about sums it up. Oh, in
case you missed it, I joined Twitter (@KateWhineHall is my handle.
Is it called a “handle”? Or is that just for a CB?) Don't miss
all the exclusive, never before seen on my blog or Facebook page
material...maybe. For example, “Modern Art = I could do that +
Yeah, but you didn't” - Craig Damrauer. See the great stuff you're
missing! Actually, I think that's the only thing you're missing.
I'm just not pithy. I mean look at how stinking long this post is!
Don't forget to leave some love in the comments.
