Pajama Day

Ds and I are staying in our pajamas until lunchtime. Dh was home with him Monday and Tuesday (it's some of that vacation time he has to use up), and ds will start back to school tomorrow. I'm a bit nervous about the potential of an accident, but as it is, he's already running down the basement stairs and onto the concrete floor again.

Every "my kid did that too" story that I've heard or received refers to a boy-child. I always try not to be sexist, but really - is this putting-the-teeth-through-the-lip or jumping off the porch like Superman and the like and not being careful not to do it again a boy thing?

PS Ds thinks I should post pictures of the stitches. I'll just say it looks much better today than we could have expected. Recheck tomorrow.

In Stitches (or, Bad Momma)

After the Big Thing I was very tired. I'm not sure I could have done anything differently, but even so.
Right before bath and bed time, I ran to the basement for a second. DS was upstairs on the couch eating a little snack. While I was down there, the phone rang, and I answered it. DS isn't all that patient.
As I hung up, he ran down the steps and couldn't stop his momentum, slipped on the concrete floor and landed on his face - on the edge of a paint can. When he looked up, his two front teeth were through his lip. And DH was at work.
A neighbor drove us to the ER, dh met us there, and after six hours, four doctors, four nurses, conscious sedation, and waking, we got home, at 4 am.
Scarring should be minimal, but every time I look at it, I'll remember what ds said, with his teeth still through his lip, "Who woul fut a faint can at the botton of the stefs?" Later, with his lips swollen after surgery and his body still not completely in his control, he sat up, leaned forward and pressed his lips to my cheek, a great effort at a kiss and, I think, at forgiveness.
We're all very tired and traumatized.

The Big Thing

I am pleased to announce that the Big Thing at Best University that has been consuming most of my waking moments lately (ds had decided to fire me, before going to grandma's for a weekend, and while he loves grandma better, he's willing to give me another shot) is over, and it was very, very successful. Which means I can relax. But it also means that I will have more time to obsess about our lack of referral.
I wasn't supposed to be in charge of anything, really. I had shared some ideas, had agreed to participate in a planning phase, but I'd also shared that I'd be bowing out when my daughter came home. And then she didn't come home. (So I had no excuse, for myself or for them, despite the little losses along our way, which didn't seem to entitle me even to a good cry.)
But it was great, and it's over, and I can go back to my normalish life.

Are you doin' sarcasm?

Check out this article from the Onion. Very, very funny. (See? I still have a sense of humor).

Cheap and angsty.

Either this quiz underestimates my caffeine addiction, or my headache doctor overestimates it.
Angsty, yes. Althletic, no. Or at least my Playstation Virtual Personal Trainer tells me otherwise. But cheap?! Come on.

You Are an Iced Coffee

At your best, you are: hyper, modern, and athletic At your worst, you are: cheap and angsty You drink coffee when: you're out with friends Your caffeine addiction level: medium

What Kind of Coffee Are You?

Those of you who know dh will find this more accurate than my own.

You Are a Soy Latte

At your best, you are: free spirited, down to earth, and relaxed At your worst, you are: dogmatic and picky You drink coffee when: you need a pick me up, and green tea isn't cutting it Your caffeine addiction level: medium

What Kind of Coffee Are You?

We're All Nontraditional

I had been working on a post, "We're all black." In it I discuss how a black friend of mine only half-jokingly suggested that one way of thinking through "white mother-black child" is to refer to Haiti's declaration of freedom, which declared all Haitians, regardless of skin color, to be black.
A popular adoption forum removed its "Non-traditional Families" board, because that board was "too political" - not in content, but in the nature of its existence. But here's the thing: it's all political, and in the adoption community, we're all nontraditional.

Overdue

I've been trying to find words for this way of expecting, to make it intelligible to people who've had children the regular way. And the best I can come up with is that it's like being pregnant, but having no due date. Enat says the same thing, but with better reason to say it, a couple posts back. Their efforts to bring their daughter home are heroic and humbling, to say the least.

Brother and I.

Ds said the other day, "Isn't it weird that we have a baby's room but no baby?" Yes, it kind of is.

Yesterday, we stopped to drop a present off for R., one of those beautiful babies I told you about just a few posts ago. We couldn't stay long, and are looking forward to a longer visit soon. DS said, "Is R. their baby too?" Yes. "So now they have two children." Yes. "Just like you do." Pause. "Me and I." Yes, I guess. Or at least, that reflects my feelings. I'm not waiting to be a mom, I'm waiting to find out who I will mom, just as ds isn't waiting to be a brother, but a brother waiting for his sister. But.

My mom remarked that I. is becoming ds's imaginary friend. I think that might be so, and we don't know whether to curb it or let him run with it.

Thoughtful, careful, socially responsible post coming soon. Or at least one that makes me seem smarter and less self-involved, whatever the truth of those appearances may be.