Life... or something like it

Hello sweet readers!

If you are a potential adoptive parent, or a precious new mom or perhaps a relative who loves me and doesn't want to hear anything teensie weensie negative... please go check out

 this happy-happy post instead! Oooh look! Pretty pictures!

Now, everyone that's left...

You have been warned.

I'm in a bad mood.

Yep. That's it.

I don't know what's wrong with me.

I should be so super happy!!

8 months of waiting for three gorgeous children to come home and be mine forever...

and now it's happened...

I should still be riding high on that wave of ecstasy!

However..

I have been attacked by reality.

The reality is...

ALL preschoolers have definite ideas about how to behave.

All preschoolers detest being told what to do.

All preschoolers refuse to eat food at times, even if they have previously loved the same exact food.

All preschoolers give their parents a hard time at nap-time and bedtime on occasion.

The difference is...

I have not loved these children from the time they were born up until this day.

I didn't rock them when they were babies,

nurse them back to health with their first colds,

carefully change diapers with bad rashes and rub on soothing lotions,

bathe them before they could sit up alone,

or put teething toys in the fridge to help with those first few teeth.

What does that matter??

It means we don't have a history together.

So all *I* have to go on is my own experiences.

From my previous 4 children.

And it's not the same.

Not that I don't love them the same...

(I may not yet, but that's not the issue)

but that we don't just instantly know why the other is doing something.

For instance:

My first 4 were never allowed to play with the TV or the remote.

Its annoying to hear it going on and off, the volume gets louder, louder and louder...

and besides... they change all the settings and mess it all up.

So, no, they can't touch it till they are old enough to know how to fix whatever they mess up.

Baby boy at 2 years old thinks that the remote is an awesome toy and the tv buttons were placed there just for his pleasure. 

I  get annoyed because I have already said no, 

already done time-in, time-out and 

time-whatever-other-preposition, 

and nothing works.

WHY does nothing work?? 

Well... for one... he doesn't speak my language. 

Literally.

For another, I am convinced at the care center 

NOTHING was ever off-limits.

I am also convinced there were

no consequences or punishments.

So I get to teach him all about off-limits, 

cause and effect, 

and everything else...

as a stubborn-two-year-old WITH newly-adopted-child issues 

and attachment stuff thrown in for good measure.

And I get annoyed with nap time and bed time.

The routine isn't working for me.

And I am tired.

For no reason.

I am sleeping well...

but I think I just have a lot on my brain all day

that wears me out.

And I don't want to fight with my husband.

Or my kids.

And I want to be ME.

The old me.

Not this new me.

This can't be the new me.

I don't think I have A.S.S , 

but one can never be totally sure.

I need a magical happy pill.

The middle girl has been sick.

She had a ruptured ear drum Wednesday night.

She didn't cry.

She didn't complain.

She didn't whine about it.

This is an institutionalization thing.

It makes me sad.

The other two are sick with snotty green noses,

coughs, and random other symptoms.

And baby boy has scalp ringworm.

And I am collecting poop samples

times 9

to test for Giardia.

So I am seriously hoping that once 

we get the medical stuff taken care of, 

things will be better around here

because I do love them

and I want to be happy

and I want to remember that desire to get them here

and be joyful.