The last two months have sucked. There it is, out loud and in print and I am not ashamed to say that is honestly how I feel about that block of time.
The kids have been endlessly sick with colds and allergies, rashes, high fevers, and strep throat. They are better now and I am trying to catch up on sleep without developing bad sleeping-in sorts of habits. Brendan was an entirely different sort of sick and then had an allergic reaction to the medications he was given, winning us an all day trip to the ER. My husband, in the best health and fitness of his life, lost 15 lbs. in three weeks…he’s better now, and we’re thinking that the medications that were supposed to help the problem actually exacerbated things, but it was scary to watch him melt before my eyes. The word “worry” was given new meaning. As I watched my babies writhe with fever and as I watched my husband’s face unswell and his speech become normal as the anaphylactic shock went away, I realized how quickly and accidentally we could lose it all. Time is so, so precious and these people I love are so very important to me, my everything. I will not waste it.
Our kitchen…oh dear. We have been waging an epic battle with Sears over a new range. It’s not worth going into, really, other than to say we lost and now we’re cooking on a propane camp stove propped on an old door from the basement until we can sort things out and find the time to go appliance shopping yet again. And you should know that Sears does not always think the customer is right, nor will they make grand gestures to help you when they are very badly wrong. Enough said. The camp stove was fun for about ten minutes, but now I just really crave some sort of normalcy in our most-used room. I learned, though, the greatest lesson from this: Shop local, always. Deal with a company that is in your town, whose CEO is your neighbor. Deal with a small company that needs your sale, who will defend their reputation because the bad news about one sale gone wrong could sink them.
School finished up for both children, a huge relief really, but it came with all of those last-minute preparations and gifts for important people and extra obligations that added to an already stressed family’s schedule. And if you saw my last deleted post*, kindergarten graduation was not the joyful moment we expected, rather laced with anxiety and fear and an unplanned stage appearance. I learned that my child’s dignity is worth so much more than a teacher’s idea of the perfect graduation performance. I learned that is it easy to stand in front of a huge crowd when I am aiding my child in avoidance of terrible embarrassment and shame…imagine, the perfect cure for stage fright!
I took a sewing job on commission and got burned. It was a highly specific and personalized bag which the client raved about, but she also “misremembered” the price I quoted her for the piece. She stated that she only budgeted for the price she remembered and would not be able to buy the bag if I had to get the price I actually quoted her. I sold her the bag at her price (cringes) because it was so personalized that I could not do anything else with the bag or materials if I kept it. I learned, yet again, to always get things in writing. I learned that I have to value my work in order for my clients to also value my work, and that standing firm on the price I set is a matter of self respect. I think I also learned that I don’t really enjoy working on commission because to a certain extent I lose creative authority when I am working toward someone else’s goal. This requires more thought.
I stopped telling people that we are adopting again. The people we know and love all know, of course, but I’m not telling casual acquaintances anymore. For some reason it is hard for people to sustain excitement for the addition of a child to our family when they hear that it will take time for our child to come home, and especially when they hear he will be two. Their faces fall, they cringe in an obvious way, and they whisper questions to us:
Are you sure you want to do that to your family?; Why will it take so long? Will he really come home?; A two year old? I would never do that. You’ll miss everything!; Did you get your baby yet? (this one week after I told her we were adopting internationally again). The dentist, the other parents at school, even some friends have said things like this to our faces, boldly questioning our judgment about our family. It doesn’t hurt so much as it irritates. I have learned that our joy alone will have to be enough to sustain us through this long wait and we will have to have faith that the others will come around once he is here. I have learned that other peoples’ fears do not have to be our own. I have learned, once again, that the general public knows next to nothing about adoption, but I have also reminded myself that I do not always have to be the good will ambassador. I have learned that I don’t have to share this with everyone, though I want to shout it from the rooftops. This semi-secret can be so very sweet, if we let it.
So, two months’ worth of blech provided a few key life lessons and we will be better for it. We’ll pace ourselves, make better decisions, and I will work hard on that whole creative self-worth thing. Today is the first full day of summer break and the relief in the room is palpable. Do you feel it, too?
*deleted because I realized that posting about it would not be conducive to helping our H6 avoid the embarrassment that could have been.
