…as long as he cares that I’m there. Maybe not like David, newly adopted, possessive. But he looks for me at swimming, tearful, crawls up and grabs my legs, clutches my face with his wolverine claws, clings to the gate demanding I come get him. Maybe he doesn’t call me mama yet, or reach for me when someone else takes him. But if someone else has him and he’s fussing–sometimes…sometimes if I take him he stops.
Sometimes when I have something to blog, I jot it down on my phone’s notepad to remember it for later. But sometimes I jot it down somewhere else and forget about it. I just found this on my laptop. It must have been written this summer, since I mention a mild jealousy that my friends’ newly adopted son showed more outward attachment to them than we necessarily saw from Connor. It made me feel good to read this today because it helps me remember that he is continually progressing, the details of which can be missed when you’re with him every day. Still no “mama” per se, but he does think I’m increasingly awesome, so maybe when he just goes on with his muhmuhmuhmuhmuhmuh, he actually IS referring to me, but I’m far too great for just two syllables.
His attachment now borders on problematic. I have to hide from him during aquatic therapy so he doesn’t watch me and cry for me the whole time. The first time after I moved he kept looking for me in my usual spot. He chases me around the kitchen island and has nearly taken me out multiple times getting under my feet. He has sibling rivalry with the dishwasher because when I’m emptying or filling it, I am unable to pick him up. Sometimes he throws his drink around until I sit down with him and let him drink it on my lap. The last two times we left him with my parents, he wouldn’t eat until we got home. It’s a problem I love to have (minus the eating–sure hope that resolves before we take some long-awaited, adults-only trips next year). He pulls himself up at the kitchen table or couch — wherever we might be sitting — and does not like to be left alone in the playroom out of sight.
And he reaches out for me. He reaches out for me.
People ask, how do you do this? That’s how.
- Aquatic Therapy’s Role in Recovery (rawlivingfoods.typepad.com)