Sorry I've been MIA...

Well, that sounds kinda arrogant. As if you've been waiting with baited breath for my next posting, or something.

Last year, at this time, I was on the referral waiting list and going nuts waiting for the call. Naturally, it took much longer than it normally does for a boy. Girl after girl was being born and I had no idea that he wouldn't even be born for another month. I was convinced that he'd be home long before Christmas of this year and predicted (I know that was silly) that he'd be home at the end of August. Early September at the latest. I pegged it exactly (go me).

I find myself thinking of his birth mother this month quite a bit. Her birthday was on the 9th...2 days before mine...and I honored her quietly on that day. This Christmas she is without the baby she gave birth to 11 months ago and I'm sad for her. I often wonder how she is doing. I have a mailing address for her and think about sending her pictures (she did tell my agency that she would be open to that) and wonder if she sincerely wants them or if it would be too painful for her. I've read that the USPS isn't the best way to go if you want to mail to Guatemala, but don't know what is the best way to go that won't cost me an arm and a leg because I'm still trying to dig out of the financial stress I put on myself when I took 9 weeks off of work to be home with Kevin.

Sometimes it seems like Kevin's been here forever and, at other times, I actually think about it and realize that it's only been 4 months. I am one of those people who can say that the pain of my infertility and the stress of the adoption process has disappeared from my life. If I actually think about it, I can remember it, but, on a day to day basis, it has melted away. For that, I am grateful. I feel so complete. Finally. Complete.

Kevin's first Christmas was rather anticlimactic, if I'm to be honest. He's too young to get excited and/or know what it's about. He had no idea what to do with the wrapped gifts, although he liked his new toys. We went to my brother's for our dinner, as always. There were 13 of us there. I don't know if I've mentioned this, but my family can be quite loud. Some louder than others. OK....all of them are considerably louder than Roni or I. A Xanax wouldn't hurt when walking into a room full of them. Two of the family members (nieces) hadn't met Kevin yet and people were clamoring over each other to get to him. The one niece (17) asked if she could hold him and I told her she could try, but he looked a little like a deer caught in oncoming headlights. Sure enough, he started crying and we had to take him to a quiet place in the house so he could gather himself. Roni took him into the living room while everyone was in the kitchen getting their plates filled and gave him a few bites of a cookie. Brilliant, I tell ya! By the times she gave him those and entered the kitchen to have him sit on her lap for meal time, he was much more acclimated to the ruckus. It doesn't hurt that he also loves to eat, so sitting down at the dinner table was the perfect way to let him look around at everyone while they were yapping and not trying to get at him. He did well after that as long as one of us was in sight. He even briefly crawled away on the living room floor while gifts were being opened, although it was only a few feet and he came right back. All in all, I think he did rather well.

I hope everyone had happy holidays...whatever holiday you observe.

So? So shoot me, I was a little off...

I was infused with confidence because of past experience. I've never missed before and I guess I was a bit arrogant in believing that my luck would hold. That my radar would not fail me and my aim would stay true.

I am speaking, of course, of entering the baby's my bedroom where Kevin is currently and I pray briefly sleeping in the dark.

It all started at a little after 10PM. I was watching The Office and diddling on my laptop when my cat decided that she was going to torture me by busting open the bedroom door to, I swear, purposely wake Kevin up because I was God-forbid-relaxing-and-we-can't-fucking-have-that-now-can-we? Naturally, she scared the bejesus out of him and he woke up. So, I went upstairs out of the bright light of the kitchen into the dark-as-the-bowels-of-hell (not really, but it seems that way when you enter from the lights) bedroom. As I stumbled over the plastic bag with "hidden" Christmas gifts in it and started a cacophony of noise, I again startled Kevin. This time he was startled quiet. I pictured him laying there with his blanket pulled up to his chin and his eyes wide listening for the next freakin' disturbance to his little world. Once his little heart started beating again, he started crying anew. I found my way to his crib and could not see a thing. I wasn't even sure if he was sitting up or laying down. That's how dang dark it was to me. I gently felt in his crib because you know damn well turning the light on would not be a good idea if you want a kid to fall right back to sleep. I was able to determine that he was laying down by gently brushing his cheek. I grabbed his bottle to see if maybe that'll settle him easily because that usually works. Problem was, my radar was on the fritz and I'm not quite sure what part of his head I hit first. It wasn't his mouth. I tried again. Missed. I went at him slow a third time figuring that maybe, just maybe, he'd get the idea and grab the damn thing to help me out. But no. He was too busy gloating at how inept I was and punctuated his disgust with me by crying louder. At this point I admitted defeat and lifted my poor baby out of his crib to comfort him because his mom is an idiot. As he brought his cheek to mine, I was able to determine that his whole face was wet with formula. He laid his head on my shoulder and promptly rubbed it dry on my sweatshirt. If I could have seen him, I'm sure I would have seen him rolling his eyes...At this point, as I'm snuggling with him and he's drifting off to sleep with his arms around me, I had a fit of the giggles picturing, what I'm sure will be, dried formula on his face and neck and had to lay him down before he started crying again because, obviously, his mother has lost her mind. Thankfully, by now my eyes had adjusted and I was able to slip the bottle into his mouth. He drank it and I was able to avoid the "hidden" gifts on the way back out of the room.

Now...where's that damn cat?

How the hell do I know where your hands were last?!

Holy shit.

So I was grocery shopping with Kevin yesterday. I have never gone somewhere with him that he doesn't elicit a comment from multiple people. I guess that would sound like bragging if, you know, I had a thing to do with how freakin' cute he is. For a while I wasn't sure how to respond to strangers saying how gorgeous he or she is (at least the "she" comments have stopped since I cut his hair and I can unclench my fists now). Part of me felt like I was misleading people if I said "thank-you" because so many people have said how much he looks like me and they think he's my bio son, but I wasn't comfortable telling complete strangers-in-passing his story. Finally, I just said "screw it" and have gotten more comfortable with just saying "thank-you". Is that wrong?

Anyway.

We were in line checking out. I was emptying the basket, so I wasn't in front of him, and this woman got in line behind us. She looked at Kevin, looked away, and did a double-take. Then she started touching his face! Arrrg! She wouldn't stop and my head was about to explode. In my head I'm saying, "Quit touching my son! Where the fuck were your hands last?!" Out loud I said nothing. I just hurried up my emptying of the cart. In hindsight, I should have hip-checked her away from him, but I was so surprised that a complete stranger would lay hands on my child that I did nothing. Finally, I pointed out to her that the other line had no waiting and she went on her way, but MAN! What would you have done or what HAVE you done in this situation?

I haven't done one of these in a long time...

God, I love this boy!

8/24/07 to present

First snow

He looks like he feels just about like I do about winter...

Ice T, bath time, and Oh, the drama!

This past weekend, Katie was treated to a visit to NY by her great-aunt Mary. Katie is a fanatic for the show Law & Order SVU and, much to her delight, they ran across an opportunity of a lifetime for her...She, who never shuts up, was left speechless:

Kevin waiting anxiously for his bath. He just loves bath time!

Oh, the joy!

Hard to believe this was his reaction on the visit trip:

Here, Kevin is pretending that he just can't get up. He laid there and did the occasional soft whine for quite a while waiting for me to do his bidding.

Cassie came over to investigate...

...and decided to sit on him.

Am I a freak?

Wait. Don't answer that.

I only brought it up because I'll bet I'm the only one of us (meaning me and you guys) that is so looking forward to January 6th because the new Gladiators show is coming on. I used to watch it, I don't know, about 10 years ago. Somewhere around there. I loved it. I wonder if I'll like it as much at this point in my life or if it'll be one of those things better left as a fond memory. It doesn't matter much if I do like it because most off-beat shows that I like wind up getting canceled. It's like I'm the curse of death to them. Except Big Brother. That, thankfully, has managed to avoid my curse. Oh, and Heroes is still surviving...

44

That's how old I am starting today. Yesterday I filled out an online survey asking my age and I put in 43. Today I'm 44. Where did all the time go?

What will I do today? Get groceries. My life is so unpredictable and exciting....

ETA: In deference to my Diabetes, this is the birthday cake Roni had delivered to me. A cake made of flowers:

Censoring myself is upon me....

All of a sudden it has happened. Just like that. Kevin is repeating things we say. Whoa. How can it go from me not being sure he's really saying a damn thing a little over a week ago, to this? I need time. I'm just grateful he didn't start on Friday when I was spewing the "f" word like a chant. It started Saturday. I was leaving for work and he repeated, and I'm serious here, "love you". Only it was more like, "ov ooo". Wow. No, seriously. It blew me away. Then he repeated Roni this weekend when she caught him getting into the DVD cabinet and she said "Kevin". He said, "Eh-in". Today I pulled a piece of paper out of his mouth that he stuck in there and I said "yuck". He said, you guessed it, "uck". Obviously, he could easily repeat "fuck" and it would also probably come out as "uck".

I guess I have to start censoring myself so I don't have a cursing infant/toddler on my hands...might make play dates a little tough to come by.

I will spare you the pictures...

I have to lead in with this. You will soon understand why.

Cassie (the Pug) was not feeling well earlier today. This is evidenced by her laying around and not wanting to eat or go outside to do her "business". She does this once in a while...probably from something she ate the day before. I decided to pick her up from the couch and carry her outside because she normally starts feeling better after she "goes". Well, it worked and she was more herself after a little while.

Fast forward----->Kevin woke up from his nap at 12:15PM. I prepared his lunch and started feeding him. Cassie, now that she was feeling better, came over to her spot under Kevin's highchair to beg for food. I finished feeding Kevin and lifted him out of his highchair and put him on the floor. While I was putting the dirty dishes in the sink, Kevin and Cassie headed off into the living room together.

This is how fast the horror happened!

I walked back into the dining room and Cassie came running out of the living room and sat under Kevin's highchair. Something was off. I looked at her and said, "What's the matter?" (yes, I talk to my Pug as if she's human) "Do you have to go out?". I peeked into the living room to check on Kevin before letting Cassie out and...HOLY SHIT! Kevin was sitting in the middle of the floor happily running his right hand through something liquid. I actually felt my head blow off my shoulders. I ran toward him, while carrying my head under my arm, saying in a plaintive voice "no, no, no, no, no" and then popped my head back on so I could pick my baby up out of the liquid shit. I held my sweet, shit-smelling, child at arms length while chanting fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. Meanwhile, Cassie hasn't been left back out yet and she still needs to go! I didn't know whether to shit or go blind. I stripped Kevin of his clothes all the while thanking God he was in something easy to get off (read: I didn't have to hold him against me and, basically, practically levitated him in midair while taking his clothes off). I set him on the kitchen floor and ran over to the door to let Cassie out before there was any more damage done to my delicate senses, while keeping one eye on Kevin and praying that he did not stick his hands in his ever-lovin' mouth. The poor child then got disinfected. I briefly contemplated spraying him with Lysol. Okay...I kid. I didn't have any name brand Lysol. Only generic. Oh, I kid again.

So....how was your day?

I finally did it...

I just couldn't take it anymore. If I had to hear from a stranger one more time how beautiful my daughter was, I was gonna spit. Look at his face. He looks like a boy. He has since the day he was born. He never had a face that could go either way. At least that's what I thought. So many people see his hair and assume he's a girl.

So.....although I've never cut anyone's hair in my life, and was actually a little afraid of what I'd do to him, I'm pretty pleased with the results.

Before:

And after:

Our Christmas card

I've never done a photo Christmas card before, but, when Shutterfly offered it to me for FREE (seriously...if it's FREE, it's for ME!) because I'm a new mom (I have no idea how they got that info), I just had to do it.

The pics are from 3 days old (the first pics we received) and continue with 1 per each month we were waiting for him to come home. The final pic is after he's home.

Without a doubt

I've made comments on other people's blogs about Kevin's supposed-might be-but can't be sure first words. Such as "Mama" and "bah bah", but how am I supposed to be sure that it's not just babble? If he pointed to said object/person and said it, that would be a sure thing. Right? So, even though I think he's been saying those things for awhile now, I couldn't be positive of it.

So yesterday? When I was getting ready to go out into the Tundra cold blizzard snow storm couple of inches of snow to go to work, Roni said to Kevin, "Tell Mommy bye-bye" and he did. A clear as a bell-have no doubt word. "Buh-bye".

I'm so proud.

Leaving this computer for the weekend...

So I thought I'd post a few pics first:

Starting to explore climbing:

Hanging on my leg while I was trying to make dinner:

Just pure cuteness (the 2nd one is my current favorite):

This is the dog feeding her own-damn-self 'cause I was taking too long, I guess (her head and shoulders are in the dog food bag):

The year was 2003...

With Christmas barreling towards us at the speed of light and our Disney trip coming soon after, it has me reminiscing about this particular year.

We had never been to Walt Disney World and, frankly, had no plans to go. One day in August of that year, we were sitting on the front porch being nosey relaxing and watched the family across the street load up into a limo to head to the airport for a trip to see the World. Roni said, "I wish we could go there." Well, for some reason, I caught a fever that I can't seem to shake to this day. That evening I started researching on the computer. I called her over and said, "How does December sound?" She was blown away. By now she may be regretting those words because I can't seem to stay away from there. Of course, for our maiden trip, I didn't know any better and actually bought the tickets online from the Disney site. Now, I'm a deal hunter (and cheap frugal) and know where to go and get the best prices.

Katie was about to turn 10 and we elected to keep it a secret from her for a while. We had also decided that this was going to be our Christmas gift for all of us.

The dilemma: Although Katie was 10, she still professed to believe in Santa. You all might feel that's OK, but 10 is a bit old in my opinion. why should this fictitious dude get all the accolades while we get the fish eye when she opens her presents, dammit?! Now, how were we going to explain why Santa had a big ol' budget cut this year? Not to mention the fact that her father was out of work and was getting her nothing. She was used to "Santa" showing up at both houses. Inspiration struck! It was long about November and Katie started talking about writing her letter to Santa for the love of Pete (she knew about the trip by now). As much as I loathed grimaced over the Santa thing, I didn't want to completely burst her bubble so I said, "OH! Didn't you know?! Didn't anyone ever tell you about the cut-off age for gifts from Santa?!" A confused look ensued. "Well, Santa can't deliver presents to everybody forever. Why do you think that we don't still get gifts from him? He has to have room in his sleigh gag for all the new babies born each year so, once a kid turns 10 years old, the parents take over for him in the giving of gifts. That's why we're going to Disney this year. It's our gift to you for Christmas" (she really, really wanted to go back then). This made perfect sense to her and I patted myself on the back for being a damn genius.

What a great trip that was. We drive down and when we left here, the temperature was in the bone-chilling teens. When we passed through Orlando, the temp was 80. Sweet, sweet bliss. The crowds in the parks were non-existent. It was absolutely perfect for a first trip when you are simply amazed at the sheer size and the pure Magic of the World.

If you've never been and are planning on going some day, or even if you've been a bunch of times, but never in early December, I highly recommend it. Not to over use a phrase, but there really is no better way to put it...It's Magical!

Shout out to Rachel who will be leaving for her first December trip in a few weeks. Have the time of your life, my friend!

Lovin' his new(ish) toy!

A friend from work brought this in for Kevin (her granddaughter outgrew it). He loves it.

Need a haircut much?

Mr. dramatic...

Soooo...

'Sup? How y'all doin? Apparently my life has become incomparably non-eventful as evidenced by my lack of blogging.

Let's see....hmm...well, there was the time...uh, no. Nothing.

Ummm...Kevin seems to be actually growing before my very eyes. Suddenly, almost all his clothes are too short for him. His head is just about skimming the bottom of the kitchen table. How can that be?!

His attachment seems to be going very well. The SW was impressed, but WTF is with his crappy sleeping habits? He was improving and waking up less, but in the last few days he's backslid. He had constipation issues over the weekend. Could that have been the problem? I believe that problem is resolved, but we'll see how he does tonight. When I got home from work Sunday night (exhausted, I might add) and he woke up around 2AM and would not go back to sleep unless he was being held, I caved and brought him into my bed. He wasn't content to sleep beside me. Nooooo. He had to sleep laying on my chest. Very sweet and bonding and all, but my night of restorative sleep was in the toilet. I was simply exhausted Monday and was eternally grateful that he took an almost 3 hour nap Monday morning 'cause I napped right along with him. Last night he woke up throwing a fit multiple times. He would not go back to sleep easily and he was angry. I truly believe he wanted to come into my bed again. I thought about it and decided against it and he made me pay. Oh, yes ma'am, he did. This boy has a temper. A fiery, nasty temper sometimes. You may disagree, but I truly believe that I need to nip that shit in the bud early. I picture him getting older and being "that kid" that is a holy brat and, being there are no males in this household, he needs to learn that acting the fool is not the way to go to get your way. 'Cause if he thinks it is? And he gets older? And into the teen years? WTF will I do? On the whole? He's a happy boy that smiles easily. He's affectionate and smiles and laughs most of the day. Bedtime is the biggest issue. My instinct says to let him cry it out once his needs have been attended to, but I've been made to feel that that is wrong and I'm being a bad mommy to do that. I don't want to do the wrong thing here. I wish I knew what the right thing is. There's a couple of bloggers that I read that have teen sons and the relationship that they have with them is the kind that I dream of. I'm sure they're not perfect, but the relationship between mom and son seems so strong. I want that. Everything I do between now and then will help define what happens later. It's such an awesome responsibility. I don't want to screw it up.

Huh.

Weird. I go my whole life believing I'm of a certain ethnic background and find out that, huh, nope. What I grew up believing...1/2 Italian, the rest a mix of German, Irish, Welsh, Dutch. What I find out...1/2 Italian and ?!SWISS?! Yo. Strange shit to find this out after all these years. I guess it's even weirder for my mom to find this out. I guess it's pretty close to "German", but...it's just strange.

Moving on.

My home study social worker came for my post-placement visit tonight. Awesome that it's over. Well, except for that pesky name change thing. That last attempt left me traumatized more than I thought, I guess. I've got to get over there and get it done already or I'll wind up explaining to a teenager why it is he's been called Kevin all his life and his legal name has "Kevin" nowhere in it. Damn my procrastinating ass. Gah!

The addition cannot come too soon

Listen. I love my son. Nay! I adore him! I couldn't love him more if I had given birth to him. That being said, I want him the fuck out of my bedroom he really needs his own space that isn't behind a curtain with actual preferably sound-proofed walls. I didn't mind getting up with him during the night and giving him his bottle, but now. Now, since he's conquered the pulling up thing, he's decided he wants to fucking practice it in the middle of the night in his crib. This is, apparently, normal for a kid to do when he learns to pull up, but most people have their kid in his/her own room and are blissfully unaware of this shit. I guess they do it because it's so damn easy to pull up in the crib. What, with all the freakin' bars to use as a handhold and such. (What? Cribs couldn't have been made like a box with smooth sides , or something? Oh, I kid.) It's so cute during the day watching him do it and I'm so proud! At 3AM, not so much. For the past two nights I've been ousted from my own bedroom. I simply could not take it anymore.

I need my sleep, people, or things can be ugly during the day. Don't judge me.

The night starts out normally enough. He wakes up and takes his bottle and goes right back to sleep. But then. Then he wakes back up about 45 minutes later babbling because he's excited to be standing and simultaneously whining because...oh, I don't know...because he's tired, maybe? Not to mention that he hasn't figured out how to get back down into a laying position and he realizes that he's stuck there standing. After laying him back down about 528 times and covering him up and he continued to do it...well, I said "fuck it" and grabbed my blanket and headed down to the living room to sleep. Yes indeedy...I left my boy on his own to figure it the hell out or collapse in a heap from exhaustion. I figure it's no different than all you lucky people who don't have to hear every single whimper or whine because your child is in his own room. The difference is, my room is now his room and I'm in the living room. It's just so wrong, man, just so wrong.

Come hell or high water, that addition is going on ASAP.

The pond

OK...Roni brought to my attention that I haven't posted pics of the pond...this is the pond we built...

The first pic is before we practically broke our backs digging. The last two are the results of our labor:

Amazing

When I really think about it, it's amazing how far Kevin has come since coming home. He could barely sit up when we picked him up and this weekend he grew the confidence to pull up in his crib. Now he's constantly pulling up on anything he can grab. He started pulling up a while ago, but it was very shaky. Now, I can't stop him!

Kevin & Cassie...

Katie thought it would be amusing to put a bow in his hair during dinner...Time for a hair cut! He looks thrilled, doesn't he?

The dog and the fish

Kevin had a doctor's appointment yesterday (17lbs, 1oz & 28.75 inches). When I arrived home, Kevin was asleep in his car seat (he didn't take any naps yesterday) so I checked on Marco before waking Kevin (the pond is directly behind where I park, for those of you gasping that I'd leave him in the car). There was my poor fish at the bottom of the pond and he was belly up. I threw my head back and wailed at the heavens, "MARCO!!!!" in a way that was reminiscent of the scene in La Bamba. Not my Marco. Not the fish that was named Marco because he was the first of the fish in the plastic bag that had the brains and the guts to actually swim out of the bag and into the pond (the second fish was named Polo, BTW). Not the fish who has managed to evade the ruthless predators that has killed his friends. Not the fish who I saved a couple of years ago when his tail fins were tangled in the pond plants and he couldn't get loose to swim. Not the fish who I took a pair of tweezers and pulled a mini pine cone from his throat as he laid STILL when I noticed that, when I fed him, he'd take the food in and it would come back out of his mouth. Yes, I know it's a Fantail. Yes. What's your point? I prodded him with the net and moved him back and forth in the water to get the water through his gills. Then I grabbed Kevin (who didn't know what the fuck was going on with the rude awakening and hustle out of the car and into the house, but was quiet throughout. Probably sensing that Mommy was a bit on edge). As I opened the front door, Carly and Annie were running around the living room. I was completely stunned because they are supposed to be gated in their room. That's number one. There is also a second baby gate between the kitchen and the dining room that is used when we let them out of their room to have more room roaming. Somehow Roni forgot to latch the first gate when she got in the shower. To see them in the living room was such an unexpected experience that I froze in the doorway with my mouth hanging open for a second. That's all it took. Carly saw her chance to make my life even more of a living hell at that moment and bolted out the front door. Annie started to follow, but I got my wits about me by then and grabbed her in time. I tossed poor Kevin in his walker (with his coat still on so his little arms are sticking out to his sides-similar to the kid in The Christmas Story) and ran for a leash while cursing a blue streak. On the way, I plugged in the heater to the pond in the hopes that it wasn't a case of too little, too late for Marco. I ran out the front door thinking, "Katie should be coming down the street from the bus stop. Maybe she grabbed her." I was right. Katie was coming down the street with her friend and there was Carly. Did Katie grab her? Was she even attempting to grab her? This dog she professes to love so much? Nope. She was standing there with her thumb up her ass watching Carly. I start jogging down the street thinking, "at least I don't have to do the treadmill today." My life was made ever-so-much easier when a guy came out of his house and grabbed her for me. Carly then walked me down the street to the house and went in like nothing had happened.

Marco, BTW, was swimming around the pond today. I guess he hates the cold like I do.

WooHoo!

Kevin's reaction when he heard that a new legislative proposal has been submitted by some members of the Guatemalan Congress that gives hope to the future of adoptions from that country. It also includes a provision for singles to be able to adopt! This is huge! I mean...what if he had a birth sibling who was relinquished at some point? I don't plan to adopt again, but I don't know if I would be able to say no to that situation. I'm just sayin'. KWIM?

Anyone see my funny?

In case you haven't noticed, I've got terrible blogger's block. I can't even save the day with pictures because I'm on the laptop and pics are on the PC. Even so, as I was saying to my friends at work, how many pictures can I put up of Kevin sitting in his high chair, or sitting on the floor? I need an action shot of the boy standing, or something. He's pulling up, but won't hold the pose long enough for me to grab the camera. Soon, though, soon.

He did much better this weekend. I woke him in the morning before work so he could see me and there was much improvement in his mood this weekend. Last night, for the first time when he woke up at 2AM, I didn't pop the bottle in his mouth for him to go back to sleep. I read a book about children's sleep issues and it basically said that the child can be associating an object with being time to sleep and they really need to be able to put themselves to sleep. That being said, I was comfortable doing that last night because he had just had a bottle at 12:30 and I knew there was no way he was hungry. If he wasn't in my room and if I hadn't just worked 2 back-to-back 16 hour shifts and, for the love of God, needed to get some sleep, I may have just let him whine for a little while without getting up at all. Instead, I got up and laid him back down (he was sitting up), covered him up, and went back to my bed expecting to have to get back up. But. He actually went right back to sleep and, get this, he did not wake back up the rest of the night! That is the closest he's come to sleeping through the night yet. You have to understand that this is the milestone that I'm looking so forward to. Him getting up multiple times a night has gotten old. I know, I know, but MAN! I am so not the mommy who loves the cuddle time at night. Kudos to you who are, but I'm a crank-ass without my sleep. I'm just proud of myself that I get up at the previously unheard of hour of about 7AM.

Yesterday, at work, I had a bit of a scary moment when I said to my friend, "I feel funny. I better check my sugar." The next thing she heard through the med room door was, "Holy fuck!". Yeah. My blood sugar was 28. I was so stunned (and impaired, obviously) that I decided to waste some more time and recheck my sugar. Yep. Still 28. Good thing it was recently Halloween and there was candy around. We all know that I don't want to waste a moment like this drinking milk, or some damn thing. Fists full of candy were pounded down my throat. Yummy. Naturally, I overdid it and woke up today with my blood sugar in the 400's. Sigh. I felt like so much shit. Thankfully, Roni offered for me to go back to bed and I sure took her up on it. She brought Kevin up for his nap somewhere around 9 and on I slept. Kevin and I woke up around 11. I felt about a billion times better by then.

The rest of the day, Kevin refused his nap. I tried twice and it was a no go. He can't possibly be going from 3 naps a day to one already. Can he? He did go to 2 naps about 10 days ago, but only one? Nah. It had to just be a funky kind of day....

This sucks, but on the bright side...

Well, it's been 3 nights since the weekend and, on all 3 nights, Kevin is waking up crying about an hour after I put him to bed. I have to go upstairs and hold him until he calms and goes back to sleep. Apparently, I've made an error in judgement and should have had Roni putting him to bed sometimes rather than hogging that to myself since he came home. Now we have issues.

On the bright side, I spoke with my HS SW today to set up the follow-up appointment and, while I was on the phone with him, I told him about how Kevin was this weekend and how he's having trouble at bedtime now. He said, "That's actually very good. I take that as a good sign that he's bonded with you and it's very age appropriate." I asked him if it would be better if he was up in the morning before I left for work so he, at least, sees me for a few minutes each day rather than me disappearing for a couple of days and he said yes. He also told me to allow Roni to put him to bed a couple days a week. I know I've been selfish about the bedtime routine, but I really thought it was working so well. We all eat dinner together, but Roni feeds him during dinner. She bathes him and gets him in his PJs and I take him to bed and get up with him during the night. Either one of us feed him his breakfast and lunch, but I put him down for his naps. I thought it was a good routine that was working so well, but I guess we need to switch off and take turns so he doesn't get so messed up. Only 2 nights left until the weekend and he's still messed up from last weekend. Like I said...this sucks.

Oh, boy, that was tough

Not only did I have the weekend from hell at work where the running joke from everyone was "Ha! Welcome back!", it was a tough one for me, Kevin and Roni. I put him to bed Friday night and, literally, did not see him again until this morning. He did pretty well all day Saturday. That being said, he was, apparently, a whiny mess on Sunday. Only took one nap and, well, let me put it this way...he greeted me when I came home at 12:30AM. As happy as we were to see each other, I have to be honest and say that I was so tired that I was dizzy. I hugged him and kissed him for a few minutes and then attempted to put him to bed. He wasn't going to let me off that easy. All he knew was that I disappeared on him for more than two days and he didn't know where I was or why I left or if I was even coming back. I made my way, whimpering I might add, back upstairs to try to soothe him. I found him sitting in his crib crying his little heart out. I picked him up and held him to me. He tried to push me away a couple times, but I just kept holding him until he snuggled his head on my shoulder and fell asleep in my arms. He finally gave a deep, contented sigh that I figured meant he was in a deep sleep. I glanced at the crib and realized that I forgot to drop the rail in my haste to stop the crying when I picked him up out of the crib. Damn. Damn. Damn. At that moment I threw up a blessing of thanks to whoever invented the rail that drops with one hand. I laid him in his crib while he stayed asleep at 1AM. He was up by 7:45. Unbelievable.

It has come along already

This Saturday I head back to work and, in effect, will not see my son from Friday night until Monday. I hope this doesn't set him back with his adjustment/attachment. I'm just so sad.

A tender moment

Snuggling with Kevin. Giving him kisses. Awww, he giving me a ki....OW! Fuck! He just bit me!

If I'd had a BB gun...

...or a pellet gun, or a .22, or, you know, a double-barrel shotgun, my neighbor would currently be minus one security light on her house. There I was sleeping the sleep of the weary when, at 12:35AM, a blinding bright light was shining through my 2nd story bedroom window. My first instinct was to roll off my bed, slather camouflage on my face, dress in black, grab my Rambo knife, stick it in my teeth, and belly crawl to Kevin's crib to save him from the helicopter with the spotlight and gunners ready to spew bullets through my window and rain carnage down on my household. After all, what the fuck else could it be? Yeah. It was my neighbor's security light. Which, BTW, is brighter than the sun and more difficult to look into than an eclipse. I put my sunglasses on and looked down into her driveway to see if anyone was fucking with her Jag or trying to get into her house, or if anyone was rappelling down the side of my house. Nothing. After about 10 minutes, it turned off. At 2AM, it turned on again! Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I, again, squelched my urge to act like I was in the Special Ops and put the pillow over my head. At 4:30, again it happened. This time Kevin woke up and started screaming. No doubt, he started having the same feelings of survival as I because he was clutching his little camouflage hat in his hands when I went to him. He would not go back to sleep. The light did not go off this time, either. Finally, after about 45 minutes, it dawned on me (Give me a break. I had a rough night) to cover the freakin' window with a blanket. The very second the window was covered, Kevin finally shut the hell up and fell asleep. I'm leaving that thing up there for now....

My boy is full of 'tude

This cracks me up every time. You can't really see them, but, on the other side of this gate are the two big dogs and they're barking. Kevin just does not give a shit.

In other news: I am up for "best humor blog". I have no chance in hell of winning because there are some hysterical bloggers out there, but, not to sound pathetic or anything, if you'd like to vote for me, click on the thingy on the right and then click the "vote" button. You do have to register, but it only takes a sec. Thanks to whoever voted for me, already!

My poor fish

I need to do something about my pond. Oh, now, it's not a big ol' pond. It's not even a natural pond. It's a little hole that Roni and I dug and placed a pre-formed plastic thang (that is not a typo) in it shortly after buying this house. I think it's about 8'x5' (ish). Anyway. When we first put it in, we bought 4 Comets and we got a bullfrog tadpole. That tadpole was huge. We watched it grow and grow and start to form legs. I used to worry that I was going to hear a knock on the back door one day and open it to find one big mother fucking frog standing there like something out of a B horror movie. The tadpole did manage to turn into a frog without paying a visit to my doorstep, but then he disappeared! Where the hell did he go? We live in the freakin' city. It's not like there was a whole lot of choices for him...the 4 Comets were all found floating belly up one day. Fine the day before, belly up the next. We think, but cannot prove, that the neighbors gardeners sprayed some damn poison in her yard that drifted into the pond. I loved those Comets. Yeah, I'm a freak, but I've told you that I'm an animal lover already. They were tame and I used to hand feed them. Yes. I hand fed my fish. I actually cried when I found them floating in the pond. What adult cries over goldfish?! God, I'm annoying even to myself sometimes. After they died, I drained the pond and bought some Fantails. One got picked off by some renegade wildlife (I found the carnage) during the winter months. At least one of the other ones had babies. I was so excited when I saw the itty bitty things swimming around in the pond that it actually brought tears to my eyes (I think I'm peri-menopausal with all the tearing up that I've been doing the last couple of years...it's so damn annoying to be so emotional! I don't know how you weepy types have done it all your lives). Anyway. The years went by with an average of one fish per winter being killed by something (there is a suspicious cat that I've seen skulking around the pond in the winter). This year I was (and still am) down to one of the original Fantails. He(?) is the only one left. His name is Marco and he was the very first one that excited the plastic bag when I put it into the pond. He's watched his buddies get picked off one by one and I hope he's been taking notes to protect himself. I meant to get him some friends this summer, but with the adoption, I never got around to it. Now I feel guilty. I've been ignoring him terribly. Do fish have emotions?

This kid could NEVER sleep on someone's bed yet!

We went to "family dinner" at my sister's house today. Kevin was in one of his "screw napping" moods this morning which means he was an absolute delight! while visiting. Everyone always suggests we "lay him on the bed" to nap at their house. HA! Not possible. I'll show you why...

Last weekend I took Kevin to meet my dad and his wife...They were quite smitten with him. You may wonder why this was the first time they've met...or maybe not...but, anyway, maybe someday I'll write about my relationship with my father...or maybe not. Gotta be in one of "those" moods for that tale. Regardless: Meet my father and his wife:

I'm actually in a kinda funk right now. I've been contemplating stopping blogging, but I don't want to do anything rash until I figure out if this is just a passing "mood", or not. My readership crashed after the adoption was completed. I have some "diehards" (love you guys!), but whoo! the rush of blogging and seeing those numbers was inspiring. Now, not so much. I know, I know, I'm not supposed to be blogging for that reason. Blah, blah, blah. I don't know...we'll see. Maybe I just need to re-center myself and get back to how it was when I first started blogging and didn't have those numbers. It's hard to do, though. Do you keep stats? How would you react if your number were cut more than in half?

I love this!

My mom bought Kevin this outfit and I just love it...

He's crawling pretty well now. He managed to make it to me today with a distance of about 5 feet. I thought about backing up, but didn't want to frustrate the boy. Here's some action shots getting to a toy...

Some "outside" shots...that is not my grass that needs cut. ahem.