Adoption = Monsters
Sometimes I get a little bogged down with all the occupational therapy, counseling, speech therapy and psychiatrist appointments, soccer, cub scouts, homework, etc. I get exhausted. Grumpy, even. Especially when I can’t see any change in these little monsters.
On days when I’m a glorified (or not-so-glorified) chauffeur to several appointments, I occasionally wonder if any of this is even helping. Whether it would just be better to pull them out of all the appointments and let them “just be kids.”
Heaven knows “just let them be” is frequently suggested by well-meaning individuals who have no earthly idea what it means to invite two strange children with unimaginable issues into their homes. Every once in a while, I wonder if they’re the sane ones. And maybe they are. (Hubby says that anyone who does what we do has to be a little crazy.)
But then we have a night like this one. The kids’ school play. Last year was…well, not a disaster, but let’s just say it wasn’t their finest moment. But this year, this year. Incredible. Both of them had lines to say (last year, I’m pretty sure the teachers didn’t let them talk because they weren’t sure what everyone would hear). Not only did they speak clearly and look at the audience, they wanted to participate. They sat still when the group sat still, stood when the group stood, said their lines, smiled on cue and sang out to the music. On key. Mostly.
Our gal, who used to have trouble speaking to a person two feet away, enunciated and projected. I was ecstatic for her.
Our little guy, portraying one of a group of monsters, accepted extra lines five (yes, five) minutes before the play began, because several of his classmates were no-shows. There were seven monsters in the play. He read the speaking parts for six of them.
We’re talking about the kid who, up until a few months ago, couldn’t handle transitions, changes or surprises. At all. The kid who needed everything spelled out, in advance, several times. The kid who couldn’t look another human in the eye.
I did not cry, only because I had no way to communicate to him, “HAPPY tears!” and I didn’t want him coming off the stage.
I was most proud, though, was when his teacher approached me afterwards and said, “I just wanted to let you know that when I had to go up on stage, I wasn’t reprimanding him!”
Yes, sometimes all the chauffeuring feels like drudgery, and sometimes I think nothing is helping, and sometimes they do sort of act like little monsters (in real life, not the play), but tonight I had a glimpse of what all that driving has truly accomplished. I never really relax (and probably won’t as long as I’m alive), because I know the “next thing” could be around any corner, but for tonight, I’m going to bed happy.
And since the kids’ rooms are under Hubby’s and mine…we have little Monsters under our bed. That’s the way we like it.
Posted on October 16, 2014, in Adoption and tagged adopt, adopted, adopting, adoption, blogging101, chauffeur, child, children, foster, monster, parenting, play, school, writing101. Bookmark the permalink. 5 Comments.