February 2009

When we adopted the boys, we were told by the agency that their known history was “full of holes” because of how they came into care and the interactions the agency had with the boys’ biological mother. This made sense to us, given what we knew of the circumstances.

Nowadays, when a baby is born and the parent(s) decide to place the child for adoption, the parent(s) are usually very much cooperative when it comes to disclosing health issues, pregnancy details, drug/alcohol use, etc.

They generally recognize that the record they create will be given to the adoptive parents and will help that child in the future and, since the adoption is planned, the parent(s) often have a “team” mentality of wanting what’s best for the child.

When a child is placed into care as an older kid, it’s much less likely that the parent(s) will be forthcoming with information. In some cases, it’s simply that the biological parent(s) doesn’t actually know some of the history or won’t admit to some of it.

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We’re in Zellers, Maymo and I, wandering down the aisle toward men’s socks. I look to my right and see my five year old son holding a pair of satiny women’s underpants and staring awe-struck at a bra that happens to be right in front of his face.

Maymo: Mom? Do you have one of these?

Me: Not one like that, but yes, of course, I have bras.

Maymo: You could buy this one. It’s pretty!

Me: Sure, but I don’t need any more bras.

Maymo: Are you wearing one right now?

Me: Yes. (trying to slowly move away from the bras and back in the direction of men’s socks)

Maymo: Can I see it?

Me: Uh, no…

Maymo: (begins sliding his hand up to lift my shirt) Why not?

Me: (removing his hand) Because bras are like underwear – we don’t show them off in public.

Maymo: Can I see it when we get home? No one will be there except for the pets!

Me: How ’bout we talk about that when we get home? (praying he’ll forget)

Maymo: Can you buy a bra for me?

Me: Well, you don’t have any breasts! You don’t need a bra. They’re only for girls and ladies and women.

Maymo: And some men, right?

Me: Not really, no.

Maymo: But a man could wear one if he wanted to wear one, right?

Me: Of course he could. But he wouldn’t need to wear one.

Maymo: When I am a grown up man I am going to wear a bra.

Me: Okedoke.

Maymo: .. a PRETTY bra. Like this one!

Me: Okay. Can we go look at socks now?

Maymo: Can I bring this bra?

Me: No, because we’re not buying it.

Maymo: (big sigh) Okay. We can go look at socks now.

While she was here, Auntie Em took the boys to see “Coraline“. Maymo loves – loves loves – the glasses he got at the theatre. He wears them any chance he gets and it cracks me up because, hello, nerd-boy! So cute!

–

Yesterday I had this weird stomach thing going on – stabbing pains in the gut, to be specific, along with some other unmentionable symptoms. I basically lazed around in my jamma pants and read library books – while Coffee took care of everything else around the house.

If only I could do that sort of lazing around (for multiple HOURS) when I’m feeling good, it would be far more enjoyable.

Still, I can’t complain about having some down time when I’m feeling woogy given how often I feel woogy during the week and can’t do anything other than complain and whinge and, yep, keep moving.

(Coffee and the boys are now starting to watch episodes of Dr. Who, which means I’ll have a bit of spare time myself here and there, again. SWEET!)

—

The kids are back at school for the week. They have Friday off for a PD Day, then they have school for 2 weeks, and then it’s March Break.

With Family Day having just passed, I’m starting to feel like school is just a minor distraction between holidays and PD days and breaks. I seem to recall I felt that way last year in the latter part of the year, too.

Then I remember my long-lost dream of homeschooling the kids and I start laughing because, seriously, they’d have killed me or I’d have killed them and, honestly, no one would learn anything other than new forms of profanity. (Which is a lifeskill, undeniably, but perhaps not the most important of ‘em.)

—

And now, since it’s -200,000° C outside, I’m going to take a nice hot shower and try to dry off a bit before I head back to the school to pick Maymo up for the day.

Happy Monday, all!

1. Maymo +Pink Bra = Good Times.
2. Watching old Arrested Development episodes with Coffee
3. Vanilla-flavoured milk
4. Clean laundry
5. Brilliantly-bright sunshine in February.

1. Being able to lie down, quietly, when I’m not feeling well.
2. Snow, blowing sideways, in the crazy winter winds.
3. A fridge and several cupboards full of groceries for the week.
4. Curry for dinner – made by my beloved husband and ridiculously tasty.
5. Spring will come again. It will.

1. Coffee drove Auntie Em to the airport so I wouldn’t scare the kids by weeping and wailing like a lunatic when it came time to say goodbye. (I didn’t want to wreck the goodbye and make it all about me and, really, when someone’s weeping uncontrollably, people tend to focus in that direction, y’know?)
2. The boys had a really good time with her here. I think it was particularly good for Maymo, the youngest, since he had no memories of her “in person” and now has a really good week of together-time memories to hold onto until the next time they’re together.
3. Dogs, covered in snow and slobbery-with-excitement.
4. We have a quiet evening at home planned. Some Dr. Who for the boys (and Coffee) and some reading for me.
5. I’m really relieved that the visit went so well. I’m a terrible hostess but Auntie Em is a spectacular guest and, as it turns out, that latter part totally trumps the former.

I am not sure I’m able to drive Auntie Em to the airport later today.

And, if I do make it to the airport, I’m not sure I’ll let her get anywhere near the plane.

She’s strong, of course, but do you think she can climb the stairs to the plane with me clinging to her ankle? Because I think that’s what’s going to happen here.

Oh yes, the kids will be upset. They’re really going to miss her and I know, without question, that they’re going to be beyond miserable for the rest of the weekend and probably much of the week ahead.

(I’m hoping this will prod them into emailing her more often, at least, so that’s perhaps the only bright side.)

But, well, I don’t want her to leave either!

It’s awesome for the boys to have another adult around. I get a bit of spare time (!!) while the boys are hanging out with her and I get to talk on and on and on and on about the boys without her wanting to stab herself in the brain with a q-tip (much) and I get to hear stories about the kids when they were small..

She has patience for the stories/games/toys I’ve heard a thousand times.

The kids have been on amazingly good behaviour (Oldest One has made it all week without losing any points for respect issues, for pete’s sake, which is almost unheard of!) and haven’t really fought or argued at all beyond tiny ‘normal’ squabbles.

They’re each getting plenty of individual attention – time with Auntie Em and time with parents.

And man, I like Auntie Em as a person. Not just as an Aunt.

No, I am totally not ready for her to leave. THIS SUCKS.

1. Seeing Middle One’s face light up as he showed me the books Auntie Em bought him for his birthday. Anything that gets him to read = wickedly good.
2. The boys got to hang out with 16YO for a bit which always makes them happy.
3. Mozzarella Sticks. Nom.
4. It’s our 7 year semi-anniversary-kinda-thing. Also known as “A Celebration of Violet’s Stupidity” because of how the whole thing came about. :)
5. The game Blokus. Coffee won the first round and I won the second.

1. Middle One had his first after-school literacy tutoring session Boys’ Writing Club meeting. He had a wickedly good time and is looking forward to the next meeting on Tuesday.
2. All three boys totally lit up when they saw Aunt M in our living room this afternoon. (Sidenote of un-grace, I am not looking forward to her departure in a few days. Eeep.)
3. Pierogies and salad for dinner tonight. Nom nom nom.
4. I have a warm house to come home to after being outside in the really, really, really cold weather.
5. I’m actually able to do some hand-me-downs to one of Coffee’s coworkers (for his son, I mean) – Maymo has outgrown all of his size 5 and 6 clothes and is now wearing size 8 in most things (!). Hand-me-downs make me unreasonably happy even when I’m giving them to someone else!

Last summer, I took the boys to see Wall-E in the theater.

During the previews, I witnessed a trailer for a movie I was positive was a spoof, joke, ha-ha, something other than a real movie.

Beverly Hills Chihuahua.

And just as I started to snicker at the awful trailer, Middle One turned to me and, waving his hands and spewing popcorn, he near-shouted, “I CAN’T WAIT TO SEE THAT MOVIE!” and I realized, shit, this – THIS – is why all my friends warned me that having kids would ruin my life.

I’m not going to give you a plot synopsis or tell you even the basic details because, seriously, the title should tell you enough about it that you totally understand where I’m coming from.

Middle One has mentioned that movie about 400 times in the past year. He can’t remember his phone number or where he left his homework. But the title of a horrible movie that I’d like for him to forget? It’s lasered into his brain.

He has repeatedly asked when it would be coming to the theatre and could we see it? And did I think it would be as good as it looked in the trailer? (Yes, son, I am pretty sure it WILL be as good as it looked, in fact.) Do I think the characters are good or evil? Will there be a part 2?

Somehow, despite us not having cable or satellite, he knows some of the lines from the movie. He remembers some from the trailer, too.

And I wept, inwardly, every time he mentioned it because I knew – I KNEW – I was going to have to see it at some point.

Guess what Aunt M is going to be watching with the boys tonight?

That’s right. A movie about chihuahuas! in Beverly Hills!

I cannot tell if I’m evil for making her sit through this with the boys or if I’m a genius for letting her spend what I’d call “authentic” time with them AND not have to watch it myself.

Perhaps I’ll split the difference and just acknowledge myself as an Evil Genius?

I hope Aunt M is still speaking to me when the movie ends….