Our dream of adopting is happening! It’s so incredibly exciting, and yet…. so incredibly …. difficult isn’t the correct word…. or is it?
dif·fi·cult [dif-i-kuhlt, -kuhlt]
1. not easily or readily done; requiring much labor, skill, or planning to be performed successfully; hard: a difficult job.
2. hard to understand or solve: a difficult problem.
3. hard to deal with or get on with: a difficult pupil.
4. hard to please or satisfy: a difficult employer.
5. hard to persuade or induce; stubborn: a difficult old man.
Yep, difficult is the correct word.
The process to get to this point, with two additional wonderful, beautiful, loving, hurt, scared kiddos in our home has been difficult. It required skill to navigate the government paperwork; it was not easy in the least. We thought that portion was difficult. We had NO idea what was to come.
Now that they are in our home, as foster children, the real difficulty has set in. They have been bounced around from family members and foster homes to finally, our home. They are adjusting rather well. The difficulty comes from within.
I knew the stories of how integrating new children would be difficult, with most of the drama coming from the new kiddos. Well, not so much in our case.
Whiz must have had a much different picture as to how this was all going to happen. We asked him if he would mind sharing a room (a bigger room), and he said he would like to share a room. We asked him if he would mind sharing a few toys, and he said okay (a little more hesitant). We let him select which toys to share and he picked out a decent amount. We asked him to share a few t-shirts (the kiddos didn’t come with much and we had a day or two before we could go shopping). He reluctantly said fine. Uh-oh. Fine. Fine does not mean fine. Fine means no, but I know I should say yes.
Whiz has been argumentative, distributive, and just plain mad. And I feel like the worst mom award will be given to me in some back alley horrible mom contest. We asked so much of our little 8-year-old – share his space, share his toys, share his clothes, share his parents, share his time – honestly, what were we thinking?
We were thinking out 8-year-old had the maturity of a young adult – obviously we were wrong. Yes, we do expect him to share, but that was a lot of sharing to happen all at once.
We are going to remedy the situation. We are going to utilize all 5 bedrooms. The hubs and I are staying put. Little B will stay put (she’s in Wyatt’s old room). Tater (CRM – new nickname that he seems to love) will get the current guest room (with the queen size bed and a tv that the hubs will need to set the parental controls). Whiz and Big B are going to split up, even going to opposite sides of the house. One will get Tater’s current room while the other stays in the new room. I’m thinking Big B might like Tater’s old room better. We will see.
I also went out and bought Big B some toys. They were from Goodwill, but they are still in very good shape, and he loves them. I will keep on looking for some more toys as well.
As for sharing time, well… Whiz is going to have to share. I am only one mom – I only have 24 hours in a day (and I must spend 7 hours sleeping or I will not be pleasant).
Going from two kiddos to four virtually overnight is difficult. We didn’t have time to adjust our routines gradually. We didn’t have a last ceremonial dinner as a family of four. We didn’t have that threshold to cross over. Our passage to a family of six was a crazy night of driving to gas stations to pick-up kids, not at all what we expected. Our learning curve looks like a vertical line, but it’s good; it’s all good, even though it is difficult. As the hubs said the other night, nothing good is easy.