Thursday, January 25, 2007

If We Could Bottle Him, We'd Make a Fortune!

(E)

Our youngest, D, continues to be in the running for the most charming child in the world contest. D loves everyone and everyone (so far) loves him. He is usually happy and has quite a gift for making a person feel comfortable, loved, and appreciated. (Not bad for a three year old.) And he can always make me smile. This morning as I was finishing getting dressed, he announced to me, "Oh, are you going to wear a necklace, Mommy? You will look so pretty!" He will often compliment me on my clothing choices, "That is a pretty outfit, Mommy." But the classic statement from D, which is the favorite of the whole family, is when he walks up to a family member and announces (D always announces, never just says) "I like you!" How can you not love that?

A side benefit, apart from just getting to live with this little, cheery person, is that he is starting to rub off on TM. TM will happily re-announce whatever pronouncement his brother has made and recently has been making them on his own. The pair of them together, when they are spreading sunshine, is pretty adorable...and I don't think it's because I'm a little bit biased.

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly, or Attachment Revisited

(E)

I've been thinking a lot about attachment recently, mainly because of a recurrence of raging by TM. For a while, the raging had almost stopped. We would see one every few weeks and they were pretty tame. But in the past week or so, it is almost as if we are back in Vietnam. The raging is back to being long, physical, and often. So, I've been doing what I always do when confronted by a problem, I read and research, this time on attachment. Now I had done a lot of reading on attachment before we adopted TM, but there is nothing like experiencing something first hand to add a bit of focus. Attachment can be a somewhat fuzzy subject. For instance, different sources of information have different lists of what might be signals of attachment problems. On one list, TM is perfectly fine. He has none of the behaviors listed. While this may be reassuring at first, how are other things explained? Those worries that sit in the back of your head and cause uneasiness. Finding some of TM's behaviors on another list I found is actually a relief. If things were supposed to be perfectly alright, why didn't it feel that way? For TM, the three behaviors that are on the list are also the three that drive me the most nuts. They are (1)somewhat manic behavior, (2) incessant talking and interupting, and (3) being "accident prone". (These "accidents" often happen to toys or brothers and sisters.) These behaviors don't happen all the time, but they tend to appear together when they do and we have learned they are strong indicators that a great big noisy fit is in the works.

So what do we do? We go back to the attachment exercises we did at the beginning. I need to keep him with me all the time and carry him in the sling more than I have been; to use more sugar therapy...feeding him something sweet (M&Ms work well) while keeping eye contact and having him feed me; singing more songs together and doing more laughing together; being sure I give lots of positive feedback as opposed to just telling him not to do things. None of these things is horrible to do...in fact, the point is they are all enjoyable. Many are things I should try to do with all of my children on a regular basis. But, the fact is, it's just so easy to let things slide...to do that one more thing on my to do list instead of reading someone a story, or to do an errand instead of playing a game. It is possibly a blessing in disguise to have a child who reacts so negatively to benign neglect. Instead of worrying what effect his behavior is having on my other children, perhaps I should be grateful that he forces me to be a better mother than I would otherwise be.

My mental picture of attachment is a little changed from those first days in Vietnam. Then, the only image I could conjure up was of the metal spikes at car exits, the type you can only go forward on or you'll puncture a tire. I felt trapped into going forward because going backward wasn't an option. Now, it is as if my son fell into a deep pit from his fourth move in 3 years and the loss of his much-loved foster parents. Now it's J's and my job to get him out of that pit. We have a rolling cart and the road is often very steep. As long as we are actively pushing forward things are fine. Sometimes the road levels out and it is easier, but a new steep section can catch us by suprise and we'll roll back a little bit before we catch ourselves and go forward again. But at some point the level ground at the end of the pit will come. We'll just keep pushing up that hill until it does.

Wednesday, January 03, 2007

Nothing says Christmas like a bucket of dead animals...

[J]

Eldest daughter, the amphibian biologist wannabe, received several ideal gifts from her indulgent parents and grandparents. And when I say "ideal," I mean "related to dissection," of course.

First, there was the complete dissection kit, with scalpels, probes, and all manner of shiny devices. Next came the shrink-wrapped frog, a beautiful specimen, preserved like an Egyptian pharoah for eternity... or at least until someone dissects it. Finally, the coup de grace, a bucket of dead things awaiting the scalpel... worm, perch, crayfish, rat, fetal pig, and who knows what else.

Suggests a whole new set of verses for "The Twelve Days of Christmas."

(As an aside, we ordered the bucket o' specimens from the Edmund Scientific catalog and anxiously awaited their arrival. When the order didn't arrive, we called the Edmund company, and they confirmed that the order had been shipped and delivered. The UPS man apparently just left them on the front porch on a day we weren't home, but when we got home, the box was gone. We were annoyed, but we also wondered what the clever UPS thief thought when he opened his ill-gotten booty only to discover that it contained not a gross of I-pods, but some gross dead things.)
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