Sometimes too much fun (and work) really is too much! These last few weeks (and the next two) have been and will be crazy: work, visitors we love from far away, crazy busy at the office, doctor’s appointments and therapy out the wazoo, picnics, concerts, dinners, parties – you name it. We’re definitely living life to the fullest, but man!
So Remy, the sensitive man that he is, has gotten every possible skin condition you can think up, which means he can’t get his shots until they clear up, which upsets the pediatrician, which inspires her to have me come back every few days for a check-up. The cradle cap, yeast and excema are way better! His hair may even grow back soon. (I’m still mourning his beautiful curls that we’d finally figured out how to care for, but seeing where the insidious cradle cap was spreading seemed more important.) the staph however seems determined to stay. So with oral and ointment antibiotic, we attack! Fantastic improvements there, too. Also? WE SURVIVED COLIC! I swear, the torture came to an abrupt halt just the way everyone said it would. We just realized today that it’s pretty much disappeared. 🙂 Maybe we’ll get brave and try to wean him off the smelly formula again.
Tess just popped out another molar, which brings her to ten teeth. I think she ground this one out just so she can chew her mango, coconut and broccoli more easily. Getting this child to eat produce is really not a problem. Still, she’s exhausted and screamy. She slept from 6pm to 8am this morning! I got her up and dressed and before I could even feed her she went down for her morning nap, ten minutes after waking up. Craziness.
We ran into an old family friend yesterday, who clearly didn’t know we’re a family built through adoption. She struggled with what to say, and Dave and I just kept talking and didn’t worry about it. We were just finishing brunch in a restaurant where everyone had been cooing over our kids for hours, so we were in a great mood. Nice people with no words are just another daily occurrence at this point. Still, Dave and I have noticed a strange phenomenon on our side of things.
First of all, we notice blended families everywhere, and they always make us smile. We don’t know their story any more than they know ours, but we share certain experiences that bond us already as strangers.
Second of all, with adoption you never know what your kids are going to look like. I remember, at various stages of my life, wondering if my kids would look like some random kid I saw in a restaurant or on a playground who slightly resembled me or my partner at the time. We still experience that, only now it’s every kid! I see older kids who remind me of Tess and Remy for sure, but I think we’ll have another kid eventually (not now!!!), and that means any kid could look like our future kid. This is normally a fun experience, but we saw a movie with a terrified and abandoned little girl in it, and my heart just leapt into my mouth. I’ve made fun of my mom for decades because of her hysterical fears for children in movies/tv shows, but if she’s that sensitive and all of her kids look the same, no wonder I’m a mess when we’re potentially a Benetton household! I mentioned this to Dave, and he had the same experience. I suppose that’s just keeping it interesting!
Today we’re off to a block party and family dinner. We had to miss this same party last year because we couldn’t risk Tess getting sick, so getting to go is twice as sweet – or three times as sweet, and we’re taking our TWO beautiful kids to hang out with their future neighborhood buddies. To current NICU parents, take heart: that first 1-2 years of ‘bubble kid’ syndrome really do fly by. In hindsight, those limitations allowed us to really bond with our daughter. Forced bonding, but who’s reading the fine print?
We spent the day catching up with family and friends and neighbors – people we just haven’t seen enough of this summer. The beautiful night, slightly cool and clear, reminded us that August is coming, and then fall. Still, summer in the Midwest rocks, and has been known to linger – so I haven’t given up hope. In the meantime? The company is incredible.