XS has had his share of grieving this past 3 weeks. He left an amazing foster care and school setting, his “ba-ba policeman,” hot humid weather and delicious food. This grief comes out in small ways or loud, pterodactyl ways. It happens when he gets bumped on the trampoline, when we take something away or when it’s time to nap and he’s been having fun with his “jie jie” and “ge ge” (big sister/brother). It oozes out his amazing eyes in silent tears or in great big screams when he is learning to take his turn with the t-ball.
I am grieving too, I realized yesterday. I was crying and just couldn’t figure out why. Although the morning was completely out of the norm (XS and B slept in until after 8, Elam was up at 6 so we 2 played games alone) it was peaceful enough. But then Brian left for work and I was left with the kids for the day.
Suddenly, as I realized I couldn’t do what I’d normally do (Y workout, lunch at a playground, play all afternoon or do errands) it hit me: I am grieving the loss of our family of 4. The ease of two kids who sleep all night and are dry in the morning. Two kids who fight with words and not screams (mostly). Two kids, two hands in the parking lot. Two kids who can buckle themselves and more importantly, UNbuckle. Time with my husband before 10:00, before I fall asleep mid-sentence. Just the old, comfortable lifestyle we had going.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s not all tears in the transition!
Calista learned for real how to ride her bike this week AND she has her first loose tooth.
I can finally get a “selfie” with my new boy. Is it still a selfie when one other person is in the shot? And the boys are finally starting to act like brothers, fists and body bumps and all. Yesterday they were playing superheros and we were all 4 laughing our heads off!
It’s not all tears but I’m still working on considering all these trials “pure joy.”