Can we just say that, in this home, with these two personalities at least, that talking over emotional stuff with the daughter is kind of like a Freudian Marathon that you forgot you signed up for, at the end of a very long day and it involves lots of crying, laughing, photo albums and maybe some art therapy at 2 a.m., where as, with the boy? It's a bit more like drive thru Voo-doo and some random conversation thrown in. No less exhausting- just completely and utterly different and new. I'm not trying to make light of this subject, or my son. ( Well, if you knew Liam...you'd already be smiling because he is really and truly so very funny, you just can't help it). It's just that sometimes we laugh to survive.
We have been taking care of Liam's surgical scar- scar massage and surgical sillicone applied daily. As he lays across my lap, he looks up at my face and gently rubs it, most often focusing on my lips, where he has found, a dark birth mark. And for three or four days he has asked me about this mark very tenderly and concerned. Then one day he said wait, did you say "birth mark" or birth MOM" and I repeated myself, but he responded, "Oh, I think you should tell me about mine and sissy's Birth Mom's". And just like that we were off.
The interesting thing for me with him though, has been that he just doesn't want to hear stories from me. He wants to TELL ME stories. Now, this is something very new to me. This is something Evelyn never, ever wanted or needed to do. I am completely ok that he needs to do this. I know that it is normal for some kids to need to do this. I am not even shocked at some of the scenarios he creates. He is just a small boy, trying to make sense of the very confusing way he got to us, his forever family. And believe me, he IS confused by the whole thing, and I don't blame him. And sometimes he still gets afraid that things are going to change again for him, that his family will swiftly metamorphasize into something else he doesn't know or can not recognize, he doesn't use those words, but I am his Mom, I can tell by certain moods, or certain cries in the night. And so he begins to find his way now.
He tells me stories about what his BM is doing in China. Sometimes she is dead. Sometimes she is alive and shopping at the store for milk. Sometimes she is on an airplane coming here to see him, just to see him, you understand. The other thing is that he has asked about his Birth Father, which Evelyn never has. He also likes me to tell him how he got from his BM to us and how even though she was probably nice and loved him and made a good choice for him, he never, ever, ever has to leave us or his Sissy or Billy Bones or WaWa (his Fish) or Cerina(resident hammy).
This happens-lightening fast and then he wants chocolate milk! Then! He's off!!!!!
Stop crying Sister. And most likely Aunt Kathryn.
It's not sad.
I mean it is.
It is. It really is. That whole bit is. That first part is. The First 21 months. The loss of a birth mother, her terrible choice, the orphanage, the foster care, the first surgery without us, more foster care, the next orphanage. No wonder he is confused.
But then came us! Which includes you guys!
And he's talking now! Which I love because that means we know what he's thinking and we can see that he's healing and we know that he's getting it and we are making his fears smaller and smaller and we can do better and better for him. So this is meant to be a good post. A happy post. A Liam is doing great post. A shadows from the past are getting smaller post.
I don't always have the right words for my kids. I just say things and mortar it up with a lot of "I love you"-s and a lot of trips to see family so you guys can help me.