Miles has been home one week.
Which, given the fact that we still have our other dear son stuck in Haiti, seems nearly unbelievable. If I wasn't waking up to his smiling little face each day, I still might not fully believe it.
I truly believe that it is a miracle Miles is here.
Home one week, and Mama Blahn is sick on the couch with the flu. Poor Mama Blahn.
Mama Blahn means "White Mama." The kids in Haiti are generally excited and proud of their white mamas. I didn't realize just how much so until Miles and I were cuddled on the couch, flipping through a photo album. We came to a picture of me holding him in Haiti, back in '07.
"Mama Blahn!" he cried out, smiling. The next picture was one of me and Cliff. "Mama Blahn!" he smiled again, and did a little clap.
Hmmmm. The next time I said, "Mommy loves you," I replaced "Mommy" with "Mama Blahn." Instant, eyes-light-up reaction.
So that was the end of Mommy, and the emergence of "Mama Blahn."
And you know what?
I'm loving it.
Except the being sick part. And the feeling overwhelmed part. And the house being trashed part. And the laundry being mountainous part. And the 15 phone messages and 23 emails I have yet to respond to part.
Truthfully, I hadn't quite prepared myself for all of that. But, been there, done that three times with newborns, and will be there again when Keenan arrives, so I'm just shrugging my shoulders and surrendering to it.
And I'm offering up an apology right here if you happen to be one of the 38 messages I need to get back to. I love you all, and I promise to get in touch, but just not quite yet.
Things are going well here, I think, by adoption standards.
We've had a little testing going on, and I think we handled it well so far.
The kids have had their bickering moments, and we're working through it.
The Mister has only had to comfort me in just two "I'm sick-and-tired-and-overwhelmed-and-please-please-please-don't-go-back-to-work-on-Monday" moments so far. Which probably freaked him out a bit, because each time we had a baby, I kicked him out of the house and back to the office before the end of his family leave. This time, I'm holding onto him for dear life, lol!
Miles is a delightful child. He loves to play, sing, eat, take baths and sleep. He does it all with gusto. Loud, LOUD gusto (except the sleeping part.) He fits right in.
He's very reserved around outsiders. He completely shuts down in the presence of visitors, unless he is playing outside, and then he just keeps on playing. So for now, we are still limiting visitors, because we can see each day how his comfort in our home is growing, and we don't want to backslide there.
When we are with others (like when we picked up Atticus from a neighborhood friend's house, or on a trip to the park), Miles will seek me out and hold my hand, which I think is a good indicator of a forming attachment.
Things he doesn't do yet: he won't give affection. He'll smile when I tell him Mama Blahn loves him. But he won't initiate a hug or kiss, and he won't say it back to me. But, from all that I read, this isn't unusual or anything to worry about. These bonds take time to build.
He won't say 'Mama Blahn' or 'Daddy' or 'Hatfield' at all. He will call Atticus and Paloma by name. He responds to Miles. He won't repeat names or words in English, but if I tell him "Vi 'bonswa' to Miss Ruth," he will shyly say "Bonswa." But not Hello or Goodbye.
But, he speaks to all the dogs clearly, and in English. LOUD English. It is absolutely hilarious and endearing.
So for now, the plan is to just keep on keepin' on. We're taking it one day at a time, and we're enjoying each laugh, smile and moment with him. Miles started a heavy antibiotic round this afternoon to treat his intestinal troubles (which wasn't giardia, but some amoeba parasite. Uck. Uck. and Double Uck.) The pediatrician warned the antibiotics will tire him out a bit, so she encouraged us to lay low at home for the time being, which we will gladly do.
Seven days home.