I saw this idea one of my favorite family blogs Six in the City and since I’ve been doing this most weeks anyways I think I’ll try to commit to post our “photo documentaries” every Monday.
Despite some sniffly noses we had a good time this weekend. My cousin came by with his adorable daughter and wife and Rachel came to stay with us! There were brownies, proclamations of Elian’s cuteness and brownies that caught on fire! (not pictured unfortunately). Wanna come along and check it all out?
Carmen and Elian perfected the art of singing Los Pollitos. Thumbs up Abuelita you rock.
The sun made an appearance so we went on a walk... the magnolias were beautiful like butterflies!
Nutty doesn't get out as much anymore so when we do walk her sometimes she get overexcited... thus the crazy eyes! Swarley!!!
Rachel came to visit and was impressed by our lack of toys. "Elian doesn't need toys" I said as he strolled by pretending to talk on the phone with his hand to his ear. Everything he picks up is a pretend phone so why bother with toys? Later Rachel and Elian had a nice conversaiton on the "maraca" phone.
Maraca phone is serious business. In other news I need to upgrade my pajamas. Rachel is always sporting cool jammies.
Carmen has been quarantined (her words not mine) in the house so we took her to Whole Foods. She FRIGGIN LOVED IT! Elian was a fan of the grocery carts. When we put him inside he gets all serious-like "I run this town!" What?!?
Is it too soon to pick out his DJ moniker? I'm thinking Notorious L-E-ON!
Oh man I have been waiting SO LONG to publish this video! I can’t even tell you how excited I am to share the awesomeness of this epic battle between my beloved son and my sweet husband. This video was taken at Martiza’s parents house our first week in Colombia with Elian. The whole week was equal parts overwhelming joy and nightmarish struggles. Because the adoption was not yet finalized I chose at that time to only write about the joyful moments but let’s get real, it wasn’t all fun. Elian refused to eat anything but yogurt for the whole week among other issues. Keep this in mind as you see my child battle with Arnold over his sovereign right to EAT ROCKS. That’s right we spent the whole week stressing about his eating only to watch him sneakily try to devour pebbles at the playground. We watched this video almost every night we were in Colombia and it still makes me laugh hysterically. ENJOY!
PS-I can’t believe how much bigger he is now. Crazy.
PPS – Thank you to everyone who shared their encouraging words and crazy parenting experiences yesterday. I truly appreciate your support!
Okay, remember how I was waxing philosophical about parenting being full of HIGH HIGHS and LOW LOWS. Well let me elaborate further on that statement. Specifically the LOW LOWS part. I’ve been a mother for about oh 2 months now and I have to confess that I’m learning real slow-like and for me sometimes the lows are bleakly overwhelming.
Elian is in the stage where he is learning how to talk to express his needs instead of crying like babies do… you know the stage where they are able to kind of control their screaming but not all the time. So sometimes everything goes real smooth and sometimes he just throws himself down on the floor and screams and screams and screams some more. I’m sure the whole “getting new parents and moving to a new country” situation isn’t any help either.
I’ll emphasize that in general he is a very good little boy but I am a new Mom and the screaming, well it gets to me. And I get frustrated and then sometimes it’s just not so good. And then we’re both yelling and it’s terrible… and anyways, sometimes it all builds up and you have to leave the house to get away and visit your friends and sob hysterically about how you have no patience and you are so frustrated and you are pretty sure you’ll never be a good Mom. You will wail hysterically that you’ve already messed up your little dinosaur for life and cry and cry and cry some more. And then your friends will comfort you and they won’t object at all when you ask them to give you a beer and a silly straw to drink it with.. and…. well this whole scenario is only hypothetical right? I wish.
And because your friends are the best somehow fresh tortillas and girl scout cookies will magically appear. Then they will assure you that you are free to cry whenever you want and are incredibly understanding of your temporarily ruining the nice get-together with your small mental breakdown.
Then to top it all off they will dose you good with re-runs of So You Think You Can Dance and you will return home calmer, happier and assured that your child has not already been ruined by your lack of parenting skill. When you get home you will thank your husband for watching the baby while you ate girl scout cookies and cried and thank you mother-in-law for letting the baby sleep in her room for the night.
The next morning you will wake up and realize that things have to change. That you cannot teach your child not to yell by yelling at him. You will awake with a clear head and a semblance of common sense. You will remember that last year you traveled for two weeks in Panama with your adored and much-admired older cousin and her two small children. You will marvel at the fact that you do not remember her yelling at them even once. Not ONE time! And you thank God for the small hope that maybe somehow you share the same genes and will be able to become a more patient person. And then since you are talking to God anyways you remember about Ash Wednesday and that you haven’t really decided what to do for Lent yet. And then all of those events: the silly straw, the girl scout cookies, the trip to Panama, the Ash Wednesday miracle, and lent itself lead you to one inevitable conclusion. It’s the time to ask God to change you in ways that seem impossible. It’s the time to believe in miracles, grow closer to God and become a better person. Lent is the time to renew your life and live the gospel. It’s the time to remember that you believe in love beyond anyone’s understanding and that everyday is a new beginning.
So here we go:
40 days of staying calm and not yelling.
I might fail some but I hope at the end to be a better Mom. I will need God and I will need you. Be my cheerleaders blog friends!
Let me be clear by first saying that I dearly love my little boy. I say this just to head off the criticism because now I’m going to complain a bit about being a parent. You can’t stop me: it’s my blog! Now, let’s get on with it…
The thing about being a parent is that it’s very intense. The highs are VERY high and the lows are VERY low. And now that we are back from our “vacation” in Bogotá its sinking in even more that our life has changed permanently. And while I would never want to go backwards it doesn’t mean I don’t miss the freedom we used to have. To go to the bathroom in peace or make it through the day without having a little one scream, shout, scream. Or to be able to eat at a restaurant without wondering when the peaceful, good table manners are going to run out. Etc. Etc. You all know the drill: parenting=life is now dedicated to your child’s needs.
Among the things I miss are being able to go to church. Sure we could go to church and leave him in the nursery but I just don’t think that’s a good idea: It’s scary for him to be with strangers. So we have to go in shifts because Elian absolutely cannot be quiet for more than 15 minutes and Carmen needs to go to church in Spanish. Sometimes my shift gets dropped and it’s a bummer.
Blah, blah, blah. Complain, complain. Get to the point already!
Last week was Ash Wednesday and we were in a pickle. Arnold had a meeting and couldn’t take Carmen to church. Which is how I ended up taking both Carmen and Elian to St. Francis at 6:30 pm on Wednesday night. 6:30 =time of day when Elian is crazy grumpy/tired. I was ready for a terrible night of wrangling a tired, screaming toddler and a confused non-English speaking mother-in-law. I was feeling kind of sorry for myself. Poor me! Can’t even go to church. Such suffering!
Shockingly though… Elian was a complete and total angel. He was quiet the ENTIRE SERVICE. And by quiet I mean he was quietly climbing the walls and burrowing through the legs of complete strangers, but still he was SILENT as a church mouse! It was an Ash Wednesday miracle! He even calmly walked with me to the front of the church and didn’t scream at the lady who applied his ashes. It was the best moment of our week!
I can’t imagine a better Ash Wednesday service than the one I spent sitting on the floor in the back of St. Francis playing with my blessedly quiet son. And I guess that’s the thing about being a parent. Just when you are expecting a disaster you receive an unexpected gift. A giggle when you are expecting a tantrum. A hug that comes out of nowhere. A little person’s hands on your face babbling softly in your ear. And ashes to remind you that life is fleeting so it’s important to cherish each moment and live it well.
My last guest post about meeting Elian’s foster parents is up at Raising Colombian Kids today. Check it out here. Thank you for having me Melinda. It was fun!
And now a few things to start your weekend off right! First your weekly dose of cute:
They used to call me Triceratops. Peace out.
And now your Friday funny. Feel free to repeat as many times as necessary.
Thank you for all of your encouraging words regarding my ING app. I will let you all know how it turns out in a few weeks or so. In other blogging news I’ve been flapping my yap over at Raising Colombian Kids all this week. Yesterday I talked about “Things to do before Leaving Bogotá” and today I’m talking about navigating the airport. Yes, strangely I was able to write a whole looooong blog post about El Dorado Intl. Airport. I’ve been there THAT many times. You can check both of those posts out here.
Tomorrow for my swan song as a guest blogger I’ll be talking about something really special. Something that we did in Colombia that up until now I haven’t really been able to put into words. I find that sometimes it is very easy for me to convey a story about mundane, everyday life and very difficult for me to convey something that is very important to me. And this event impacted me so strongly that I fear even talking about it because words don’t do it justice.
The special event was meeting Elian’s foster family. We had onces with his foster parents a few hours before we left and meeting them was an experience that was only second to meeting Elian.
Many of you know how hard it was waiting three months to go get Elian. At night I would lay awake staring at the spot where his crib would be imagining where he was in Bogotá. I would pray every night that he was safe and sound with a loving family. I would imagine his foster mother tucking him in and kissing him goodnight. I thought about him every single night for three months. Praying that he had a good family was the only thing that kept me sane during that time.
After meeting his foster family I can tell you that those prayers were answered far before I dared to breathe life into those words. Elian’s foster parents are more wonderful than I could’ve imagined. I owe them my little boys health and happiness and when I feel impatient or frustrated with him I remember their faces. I remember how they loved him for a year and half knowing they would have eventually have to give him up. I remember that the reason he is healthy and happy was because they showered him with the best they had. I remember how big their hearts are to have done that for us and for him and I take a deep breath, calm down and re-commit myself to being a worthy recipient of their beautiful gift.
These are the adventures both insane and mundane of my allegedly notorious life. I absolutely cannot promise that this blog is not filled with dramatic overstatements and wild exaggeration. Also... I'm spotty with the spellcheck, sorry about that.
