zi-NAH-boo
Zinabu. Zinabu, Zinabu, Zinabu.
We are approaching his five year anniversary of joining our family. Does that seem possible? It does not, to me. His arrival (and subsequent pain and adaptation to America and our family) still feels so palpable. So just yesterday. I marvel at a five year anniversary.
Zinabu is the light of my life. The most incredible joy-filled ball of energy and brains. He is still a little tone deaf, but he loves to sing funny songs as he follows me around. Yesterday it was, "We're doing the laundry one piece at a time..." When he wants to get his way, he stares at me with his enormous brown eyes and says, "You can't resist the puppy dog stare." And he still asks me eight million questions a day, such as, "Where does Daylight Saving's Time really start and what time is it really here if it's already midnight in New York?"
His brain is so mathematical. He is a living, breathing calculator. We are going to have our hands full keeping him happy at school, and he is going to be "one of those" kids. One of those kids in the double-double-triple-super advanced math classes in eight grade, riding the bus to the high school to take AP Calculus with a bunch of 17-year-olds. I can hardly wait to see what he'll be when he grows up. I won't be able to understand it because it will have something to do with quantum physics, but I am very excited.
And he is still very much a little boy. Needing my snuggles. Needing his PB&J without crusts. Needing kisses after reading books together. Needing to sit in my lap when he wants to feel close to me. Needing to show me his cuts and scrapes so that I am aware of his owie status.
I pray that his mom knew all this about him before she died. I don't know how she would have known, but I hope that she could look into his eyes and see all that potential and life and joy bubbling under the surface. He tells me often that he's so happy I am his mom now, and after I weep silently into his shoulder... I agree.
Showing posts with label adoption. Show all posts
Showing posts with label adoption. Show all posts
3/11/12
2/19/12
Old Habits Die Hard
I thought we had conquered the B.O.B. in Zinabu's life (Bad Orphanage Behavior), but in the last week it has reared its ugly head on more than a few occasions. For example:
1. He fell yesterday. Hard. I mean really hard on his kneecap. He burst into tears and I rushed over to console him and he walked away, trying to hide his pain and not letting me touch him. This goes beyond wanting to be tough. It's more of a "I learned at age 3 that I had to take care of myself and I won't let anyone around to help me." It was so sad, as he couldn't really walk well... more like a staggered limp. I had to grab him and forcibly hold him, telling him over and over again that he needs to let me help him when he gets hurt. It's my job and it's okay for him to cry. He wasn't really happy about it.
2. He got royally mad at Carver and was in tears and incredibly frustrated. David and I were trying to talk to him and get to the bottom of the situation but again, he walked away from us and locked himself in the bathroom. He hates crying in front of ANYone, and he hates feeling weak or vulnerable.
So I'm back to some intense lovin' on the little dude, and I'm back to reminding him constantly that it really is okay to cry, show emotion, be vulnerable, allow others to help, and in general take advantage of the family that surrounds him. It's heart-breaking to watch him think he needs to be so tough and alone. Anyone else still struggling after several years at home with your kiddo?
I thought we had conquered the B.O.B. in Zinabu's life (Bad Orphanage Behavior), but in the last week it has reared its ugly head on more than a few occasions. For example:
1. He fell yesterday. Hard. I mean really hard on his kneecap. He burst into tears and I rushed over to console him and he walked away, trying to hide his pain and not letting me touch him. This goes beyond wanting to be tough. It's more of a "I learned at age 3 that I had to take care of myself and I won't let anyone around to help me." It was so sad, as he couldn't really walk well... more like a staggered limp. I had to grab him and forcibly hold him, telling him over and over again that he needs to let me help him when he gets hurt. It's my job and it's okay for him to cry. He wasn't really happy about it.
2. He got royally mad at Carver and was in tears and incredibly frustrated. David and I were trying to talk to him and get to the bottom of the situation but again, he walked away from us and locked himself in the bathroom. He hates crying in front of ANYone, and he hates feeling weak or vulnerable.
So I'm back to some intense lovin' on the little dude, and I'm back to reminding him constantly that it really is okay to cry, show emotion, be vulnerable, allow others to help, and in general take advantage of the family that surrounds him. It's heart-breaking to watch him think he needs to be so tough and alone. Anyone else still struggling after several years at home with your kiddo?
9/9/11
Lately
Lately these two have been inseparable. They've usually gotten along well and often play together. But something shifted in the last few months. These days, they are always together. Always. Sometimes I marvel at the fact that they were born on opposite ends of the globe, yet were thrust together due to some crazy life circumstances. And now? Now they're siblings. "Real" siblings.
Kinda makes you want to be nice to everyone on the planet, no matter where they're from, doesn't it?
Lately these two have been inseparable. They've usually gotten along well and often play together. But something shifted in the last few months. These days, they are always together. Always. Sometimes I marvel at the fact that they were born on opposite ends of the globe, yet were thrust together due to some crazy life circumstances. And now? Now they're siblings. "Real" siblings.
Kinda makes you want to be nice to everyone on the planet, no matter where they're from, doesn't it?
7/26/11
Do You Ever Wonder
Do you ever wonder if you are doing right by your kids? I think about this all the time. At the end of the day I have so many regrets.
I should have encouraged them to read more today.
I wish I had played Uno one more time.
I wish I hadn't forgotten to wash their underwear and socks.
I wish I had made them eat more vegetables today.
I wish I hadn't hidden in my room to read a magazine.
I wish I had asked them more questions about themselves.
And on an on. I feel this even more heavily because my children are adopted. Their birth families entrusted me with their child. Their child, for heaven's sake. What greater gift could you give to another human being? How high should my standards be for myself and for what my children should be achieving or experiencing or learning? How can I ever be at a place where I have done enough or be able to say, "Good job, me."
I am haunted by regrets and my mistakes. When I fail my kids or let them down, I regret not only my inadequacies as a parent but also what feels like a betrayal to my kids' family tree. I quake in the notion that I am not enough of a mom--to my children or their relatives. The reality is that I am not enough. "Enough" would be Carver and Lily and Zinabu living with their birth parents. In a perfect world, they would not be my kids. But because they are, and this world is not perfect and I am not perfect, I fight the regrets at the end of each day and vow to do better tomorrow. It's not much of a game plan, but it's all I've got right now.
Do you ever wonder if you are doing right by your kids? I think about this all the time. At the end of the day I have so many regrets.I should have encouraged them to read more today.
I wish I had played Uno one more time.
I wish I hadn't forgotten to wash their underwear and socks.
I wish I had made them eat more vegetables today.
I wish I hadn't hidden in my room to read a magazine.
I wish I had asked them more questions about themselves.
And on an on. I feel this even more heavily because my children are adopted. Their birth families entrusted me with their child. Their child, for heaven's sake. What greater gift could you give to another human being? How high should my standards be for myself and for what my children should be achieving or experiencing or learning? How can I ever be at a place where I have done enough or be able to say, "Good job, me."
I am haunted by regrets and my mistakes. When I fail my kids or let them down, I regret not only my inadequacies as a parent but also what feels like a betrayal to my kids' family tree. I quake in the notion that I am not enough of a mom--to my children or their relatives. The reality is that I am not enough. "Enough" would be Carver and Lily and Zinabu living with their birth parents. In a perfect world, they would not be my kids. But because they are, and this world is not perfect and I am not perfect, I fight the regrets at the end of each day and vow to do better tomorrow. It's not much of a game plan, but it's all I've got right now.
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