Friday, April 5, 2013

That's the kind of mother I am

This baby boy


went to bed last night and he was five and he woke up this morning and he was SIX!!



Which means I had to wake up and make breakfast that involved more than pushing the lever on a toaster (pancakes) and then bake cookies to deliver to his kindergarten class because I remembered that moms do that at, oh, about 8:30 this morning.


It also means that he was supposed to get presents, being that it was his birthday and all.

I am incredibly skilled at hiding presents. So skilled, in fact, that last night when I went to wrap his main present of Lego car/garage/thingy I couldn't find it. Anywhere. At 11pm. The eve of his birthday.

Fortunately while frantically searching I found some other presents at the top of my closet that I had bought at some point and then hid them and forgot all about them so he got those instead. Disorganization saves the day! Which only needed saving because of disorganization...whatever. Kid got some gifts.

Today was also the day for the social worker to visit. Once your child has been home about a month, the adoption agency schedules a follow-up visit to see how the child is doing. To make sure you are still reasonably sane. To see what kind of parents they agreed to give a kid to.

The housekeeper came today as well. And if you think scheduling those two ladies on the same day was a coincidence, then you just don't know me at all.

Today was also the day we bought a house. Yes. A HOUSE.

You keeping up?

So about an hour after our realtor called to say we were new homeowners and I was still flusteredly (new word) digesting the news, Social Worker Jenny sat on our couch in our cleanish living room and asked us questions like, how is Bethie eating? Carboholic, haven't gotten a green veggie or fruit in her in yet. How is she sleeping? Walker shared a touching story about how she woke him up last night by literally farting in his face. How is she behaving?  Like a narcissistic, bipolar sociopath, ie, a normal two-year-old.

Eva Rose was sitting next to me on the couch when Jenny asked what Bethie likes to do. I told her how she wasn't really into books, so I tried to remember what was the other kids' favorite book when they were her age, and remembered it was Five Little Monkeys, so I bought that for her for Easter and it worked, she loves it. 

To which Eva Rose replied, "WAITAMINUTE. The EASTER BUNNY brought her that book. ARE YOU THE EASTER BUNNY?!?!"

And I stared, smiling, blinking, wondering, how does one dash childhood dreams under the watchful gaze of a licensed social worker?

Fortunately Jenny changed the subject by asking to question the children as to how they were adjusting to having a new baby sister. First she talked to the birthday boy, who has the most difficult time being usurped as the spoiled baby of the family. Who has acted out daily, if not hourly. Who has an insatiable need to snatch anything she has, wants, or was ever considering desiring. Whose feet seem to instinctively protrude forcefully outward whenever she passes by him. Who frequently 'hugs' her with all the tenderness of Lennie Small of Of Mice and Men.

"How do you like having a baby sister?" she asked.

"I wove her," Ike squirmed shyly, looking at her out of the corners of his big green eyes.

Jenny continued, "What do you like to do with her?"
 
"I wike to pway Barbies with her," he answered.

And I stared, smiling, blinking, thinking, what a boldfaced little LIAR I have produced!!

Right about the time Jenny was leaving, Shepherd appeared and overheard me say something about moving soon. "WHAT?!?!" he cried, his lip quivering. "WE'RE MOVING?!?! HOW CAN YOU DO THIS TO ME?!?" Then he burst into tears. And ran out of the room. And slammed his door. And wailed and gnashed his teeth.

As I walked Jenny to the front door and thanked her for coming by, my son screamed from behind his slammed bedroom door, "JUST WHAT KIND OF MOTHER ARE YOU?!?!"

And I stared, smiling, blinking, and then I burst into giggles.

Because that's the kind of mother I am.





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