Scatterbrained, scattershot
posted in Issues, Socializing |I’m trying to write a post–or multiple posts–about a variety of topics/issues that are on my mind this week, but every time I try to compose a paragraph, or start a mental outline of how to approach the post, my brain short-circuits. Like a hamster on a wheel, or a car stuck on the ice, the ol’ brain just seems to keep spinning in circles. So, rather than do anything substantive, I’ll just do some meandering.
First: my computer access has to be shared with my mom, as I have returned the work laptop to work. ACK! Then there’s the fact that we’ve been going hither and yon, visiting with folk and checking up on Great Grandma. This means that my time on blogs and what-not has been severely curtailed. Every time I pop into my Bloglines feed list (thereby having to log OmegaGranny out, which means she has to keep re-remembering her own log-in and password), there seem to be fifty kazillion new posts. The end result is I’m tempted to hit the "mark all blogs read" button right now, and just glaze over.
We went off to the mall this a.m.; read OmegaGranny’s post on the subject. I will merely say that the Hannah Montana wig was lusted after by the dotter. The dotter has never seen Hannah Montana; her desire is fueled solely by her classmates’ and after-school cohorts’ discussion about how cool HM is. That and the fact that HM has long straight blonde hair.
We met Singing Bird and the Bee for lunch out and playground playing and home socializing. It was a lovely afternoon, and I am in love with the Bee. The dotter is also in love with the Bee, so I expect to hear more about having a sister in the future. I foolishly have told the dotter that I miss my little baby oh-so-much, and mentioned it once again today in the throes of Emme-Lu-lust; the end result is that the dotter decided that she should act like a baby, "Because you want a baby so much, Mommy!" This is problematic: I don’t want OmegaDotter to act like a baby–I want her to be herself. And she’s just plain pestiferous when she uses baby-talk. It is all, of course, in desire to make mommy happy, but ack! This kid is so much fun right now, at this age, and I don’t want her to be a baby again, I want another little baby.
OmegaGranny has given me another new sun to grace the Alaska house.
Great Grandma was much better yesterday. It made my spirits soar to have her crabbing about people whose children don’t mind, and sniffing at people who let their hair grow shaggy; it was like having her back to normal. This evening, she wasn’t as peppy. The dotter told OmegaGranny and me, in the car, "Great Grandma was okay tonight…not as good as last night, but much better than she was." Fleeting glimpses of her future emotional maturity…
Yesterday, I took advantage of lovely sunny weather, and hauled the poor dotter all the way up Thumb Butte trail and back down again. And she did it. And there was hardly any complaining. And when we got to the overlook at the top of the trail (not at the top of the butte–that requires rock climbing skills and a mom who won’t have her heart stop if the dotter’s hand slips), she looked out at the town and the never-ending view and sighed and said, "Oh, it’s so beautiful!" Which made the coaxing required for the fourth fifth of the climb all worth while.
I’m trying to come up with a discussion of RAD (reactive attachment disorder), how it is different than any other horrible chronic illness, adoption disruptions, how biological parents are not all paragons of perfection who never relinquish their children (as if anything like an adoption disruption is something that never, ever happens with biological children), and how having a family member turn your life into such misery that simply turning down your street to go the last block or two home makes you feel like you might as well just cut your throat might be similar to how it feels to be dealing with a child with RAD, but, like I said, my brain isn’t working well and it may have to wait for days. Maybe weeks. We’ll see.
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