Stupidity

I was "catching up" with an old friend last night after not speaking with her for nearly a year. Of course, we talked about my recent separation and impending divorce and how the kids are doing, yada, yada, yada. I mentioned that I'm increasing my work hours to nearly full-time when I return to work this fall and I'm worried that it will be difficult for Sergeant. My friend gave the usual response about how kids are resilient, etc, but then she drops the bombshell and says "she's better off then she would have been in the orphanage!" WTF - like it's somehow more okay for her to be in daycare full-time because she spent her first nine months in an orphange. My "friend" clearly thinks that Sergeant would still be in an orphanage, had we not "rescued" her. She clearly doesn't understand that, had we not adopted her, there were, oh, 30,000 people in line behind us who would have gladly taken her home. I think I feel more guilty about the divorce and my increase in work hours on her behalf than I do on behalf of her sisters. I feel guilty that we adopted her and now she is not going to grow up in an intact nuclear family. Not that I would ever change it in a hundred million years. I'm grateful every day for her presence in my life...but still....maybe she'll be pissed someday that we adopted her and then 2.5 years later, broke up.

First night as a "single" mom

Well, my soon-to-be ex-husband is officially moved out. He's spending his first night in his new apartment. It feels anti-climatic - we decided it would happen over a month ago. I wondered how the kids would take it when the actual move happened, but they, um, didn't really even seem to notice. We got home from swim team practice at 7:00, had dinner, went to buy some drops for Sunny's "watery" ear, came home, watched some TV and I tucked the kids into bed. Not one of the three even mentioned that their dad is not here! I guess my feeling that he had been involved in our family in a purely peripheral way was relatively accurate. I know he loves the kids, but family life seems to be a bit "much" for him. I think he will probably spend more quality time with them now that we are separated. At least I hope so. So, onward and upward.
Smartie had a great swim team practice. The coach had her swim with the older kids, and she did well. After practice, Sergeant ran out into the street after her sisters (who, thankfully, had checked for traffic before stepping off the curb) tripped over her flip-flop, and had an unfortunate encounter with the asphalt. When I picked her up, my focus was on her nose, which had a bit of road rash. But when I buckled her into her car seat, I realized that her mouth was bleeding quite a bit. By the time we got home, she had a huge fat lip. Then, while I was icing her mouth (ha- I just read that back and it sounds like I was putting frosting on her, like a cake - she would love that), she complained about her tooth and I realized that her top front tooth is loose. I called our dentist at home (gotta love a small town) and he said it will probably "tighten up," but if not, she'll just have a gap until her permanent tooth comes in. I'm working on a post about some behavior issues that Sergeant has been having - today was a great day, though, because I changed my own behavior. Funny how that works.

Sink or Swim

From the moment our kids are born (or adopted), we begin to "let go," in small ways and in big ones. The major moments are obvious - giving up nursing (or bottles), potty-training, going off to kindergarten (or, gasp, college!), that first sleep-over, and on and on and on... But we had a smaller "letting go" moment this weekend at the first swim meet of the season. Sunny swam last year, but this is Smartie's first year on the swim team. There are swim meets every weekend for about eight weeks. Smartie's first meet was this weekend. Due to terrible weather and pool maintenance issues, she had only had a total of two hours of practice prior to the meet. And she's seven. And she's never swam competitively before. The night before the meet, she had a major melt-down, after Sunny told her (in a not-so-"sunny" moment), that she's "stupid, and she'll never make finals in the swim meet." Then, Saturday morning, prior to her first event, she cried and cried and cried and said she wasn't going to swim. The first event was a relay, with three other girls, who could not have competed without her. And I knew that I couldn't let her give in to the fear and back out. So, I gave her a hug and lots of encouragement and walked away to the bleachers. I asked some of the older swimmers to talk to her, crossed my fingers, and sat down with a Texas-sized lump in my throat. One of the other parents on the team is a stroke-judge, and was standing by Smartie while she got ready to swim the relay. She later told me that Smartie told her, "I'm not ready! There's no way I can swim all the way to the other side of the pool." She kept repeating that sentiment until it was her turn to swim. Then, as soon as her team-mate touched the side of the pool, she dived in and swam like hell to the other side. She was awesome! She wasn't the fastest, but she surely was the bravest. Because the definition of bravery is not the absence of fear, but facing fear and plunging forward despite it.

Mental Exhaustion

So...we told the (big) kids this weekend that my husband and I are splitting up. I am completely mentally exhausted. We have a rental apartment that my husband will be moving to, but, of course, we had to give the tenants notice. So, he let them know last Monday that they needed to move out within 30 days. He didn't tell them why. The only people we had told of our impending divorce were my parents and the lawyer who handles our small business. But by Friday, news that we were splitting up was all over the flippin town, because the tenant "guessed" what was happening and proceeded to tell people. I can't even describe how angry I am with her. My brother and SIL heard this rumor before we had told them, and of course denied it. Sergeant's babysitter also heard it, as well as Smarty's best friend's sister. Our plan had been to wait until a week or so before their dad was going to move out and then break the news so they would have some time to process it before it actually happened. Now they have way too much time to process it, as he won't be able to move for another month. They need for it to happen so they can see that it's going to be okay. They don't need to spend the next month wondering and worrying. Sunny seems to be doing well. We talk about the logistics of it and what is going to happen, but she doesn't talk about her feelings. So that worries me. Smarty talks about her feelings constantly. She also is asking lots and lots of questions and processing like crazy. She's having some mild anxiety attacks, as well. After talking with her school counselor, we've decided to let her wallow for another day or so, but then she needs to continue with her normal routine and try to help herself feel better. We're going to make a menu of ideas for her to use when she's feeling sad, such as getting a hug, jumping on the trampoline, or taking a bike ride. The really freakin' ironic thing about the way this has gone down is that it's made the kids' dad and I even more committed to work together to make this as easy and possible for the kids, now and in the future. We're united in our pissedness (is that a word?) at the tenant! Sergeant doesn't know what's going on yet, although I'm sure she senses something is up. We can't talk to her until the move is imminent - a month in 3-year-old time is like a year in grownup time.

Changed my title

It appears that I am soon-to-be a single mom. This is a place I never thought I'd be and I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around it. Ironically, when I started this blog, I had no idea what I would write about, or who would be interested in my low-key, boring life. Well, I guess life handed me a "topic." The split is a mutual thing, and the reasons for the break-up are not scintillating or scandalous. We probably weren't a good match from the beginning. My greatest desire, at this point, is to do this in a way that is the least devastating for our children. My soon-to-be ex thinks we can work everything out without lawyers and file paper-work online. We're basically in agreement on the financial aspects and the child-care/custody stuff, but I'm still a bit skeptical that we're not going to need professional help. I would welcome comments.

Why I hate silly putty

Prior to this weekend, I hadn't allowed Silly Putty in my house for 2.5 years. The last time we had silly putty, Sunny went to sleep with Silly Putty in her bed and woke up with pajamas covered in blue (blue!) Silly Putty. Silly Putty was smooshed into her sheets, her pajamas, and her beautiful quilt that I sewed during our wait for Sergeant's referral. Several days earlier, I had painstakingly removed Silly Putty from our sofa upholstery (I don't remember how - Sergeant was a baby and I was sleep-deprived). So...we've had no Silly Putty in the house until this past weekend, when I caved, and allowed Sunny (who's nine, mind you) to buy some Silly Putty, with her own money. Well...Sunny woke up this morning with big globs of Silly Putty smooshed into her long, thick, blond hair. Apparently, going to sleep with Silly Putty in her bed once wasn't enough. Most of the Silly Putty was in the hair on the nape of her neck, close to her scalp - ouch! For anyone who might someday need the information, a google search revealed olive oil to be the best method of removal. Needless to say, the Silly Putty ban has been reinstated.

The issues are arising

One of my good friends had a baby a few weeks ago. Her pregancy, followed by her baby's birth, has raised some issues for Sergeant. She knows that she didn't grow in my tummy, but in her birth mother's, and she also knows that she spent her first nine months in an orphanage and was cared for by nannies. I swear she was "bothered" by my friend's pregancy and by seeing her tiny baby. I think she has some sort of three-year-old concept of herself as a tiny baby, without a mother. I can already see that a time is coming when she's gonna be pissed about the situation (arising out of hurt, of course). I'm not sure exactly how to handle it all. So far, I've tried to be matter-of-fact, while empathizing with her loss. I can honestly say that I don't wish I had given birth to Sergeant, because then she wouldn't be Sergeant - she'd be someone else. I know that many of the wonderful qualities I love about Sergeant come from her birth parents.

When we began the adoption process, I really believed that the child we would be matched with was meant to be our child. Since then, I've struggled with that belief. Sergeant fits in with our family like she was destined to be our daughter, but to say she was "meant to be ours" means that another family was meant to suffer. And, more importantly, it means that Sergeant was meant to suffer the loss of her birth family, her birth country, and the experience of growing up with people who "look like her." I think I was a fairly prepared and realistic adoptive parent. I read the books, I considered the issues, but in the glow of impending motherhood, I don't think I really felt the issues. Or maybe I'm feeling them now because they pertain to a person for whom I would step in front of a train.