Homecoming Day

A year seems like a long time. 20130618-153034.jpg

I was pretty sure we’d have you ALL figured out by now. You, and adoption, and parenting a boy, and adding number 4 to the mix. Oh, and life. I had planned to have it ALL figured out by now.

It’s not like we’re completely in the dark. I’ve got a few more pearls of wisdom tucked away these days.

Things like…

Keep a Kleenex handy at all times.

A kerchief around the neck is a great “look” (and unobtrusively collects drool).

When the Kleenex runs out, use the inside of a shirt.

Child locks only work for other people.

See also: keeping things up high.

Boys climb – anything, everything, all the time.

Snot trails on a shirt are a badge of honour.

The big sister honeymoon period lasts 3-6 months depending on age and frequency of iPod-chucking-down-the-stairs-incidents.

Keep extra toothbrushes on hand for inevitable toilet/garbage/”helping” scrub the floor moments.

Thomas the Train is quite possibly the stupidest, most mind-numbingly boring children’s show. Ever.

Sesame Street never goes out of style.

A year ago today, we grabbed our brand new diaper bag, a newly installed car seat and every ounce of courage we could muster as we headed down the road to pick up our son and bring him home for good.

The past month had been an emotional whirlwind. A tentative dance toward parenthood – part courtship, part boot camp; strangely wonderful and scary, with gusts to surreal. Of all the different kinds of crazy we’ve been through, this counts as the most overwhelming time of our lives. And we had a good experience – better than most.

We fell in love with you immediately. You fell in love with your new Daddy, and you eventually tolerated me. But even that was a good sign – you were solidly attached to your foster family.

That made this day even harder, though we knew that your healthy bond with them gave you the capacity to build the same with us. But not right away. Not without time and work and a bittersweet goodbye.

I can’t put into words how much we relied on Sally (foster mom) to help us through. This wasn’t her first rodeo. She helped us navigate the handoff.

Keep it short. Keep it simple. Keep it real, but hopeful.

So with teary eyes and brave smiles they said goodbye.

With teary eyes and grateful smiles we said…

Welcome Home!

So here’s us, one year down… fifty to go. Can’t imagine life without our boy!

Memory Box

About So Here's Us.... life on the raggedy edge.

I'm a bookworm, nature lover, kick-boxer, candy fiend, sci fi geek, home body, progressive Christian and part-time student. I love my crazy life and the messy, fun, stubborn, silly, brilliant people who populate it. View all posts by So Here's Us.... life on the raggedy edge.

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