Challenge is a dragon with a gift in its mouth…Tame the dragon and the gift is yours.
— Noela Evans
I saw that quote this morning and I really liked it. I don't know who Noela Evans is, but she's made a great analogy. I tell my kids all the time that things that are difficult to get are the things most worth having.
I almost lost my temper this morning, but I was able to maintain it long enough to get to work. Michael didn't want to wear his new blue jeans, even though it was cold and rainy. He wanted to wear the old jeans which are too tight in the waist. After I put the new jeans on his bed and went off for a minute, I came back and he had on old jeans, with his little belly hanging over the waistband like an old man. Then I had to threaten a 45 minute time out to get him to wear the new jeans. He said he didn't like to wear things that are wrinkled. I pointed out that they were only slightly wrinkled and this is America and kids don't pay any attention to that stuff. He wasn't mollified. I never did really figure out why he didn't want to wear the jeans.
Alesia asked me for lunch money just as she needed to get out the door and catch the bus. I had to scribble out a check and throw it at her, hollering at her ["Sweetie, you need to GO! Love you! Have a good day!"], while Mike sulked, and Coco barked furiously. It was chaos. Mike was so mad at me he refused to wear his prosthetic. I just shrugged. Some battles aren't worth fighting.
It's a control thing, I know. Mike is still, after almost a year, adjusting to the idea that he is not in control. This is common with older adopted kids. We were in the car the other day and drove past a hair salon. He asked me how much a haircut cost. I told him not to worry about it, since cousin Tim always cuts his hair. He said he wanted to go to someone who would cut his hair the way HE wanted it! I chuckled.
"Michael, you need to understand that you are a little boy. You do NOT have the right to get weird haircuts. You WILL have appropriate looking hair as long as you live with me."
He pouted. He said he wanted spiky hair. I said NO.
I think when he was with his birthmom, and probably to some extent in the orphanage, he was able to get his own way about a lot of things. When I adopted him he had a weird hairstyle - a buzz cut, but long bangs.
Here you can see his haircut - this was made in Kzaakhstan, just after the adoption hearing. He had just finished playing soccer in the hotel gym, and he was eating ice cream, so he was a happy camper.
IN OTHER NEWS
I reviewed the film American Gangster on my film blog. Check it out.
We had a nice day yesterday, although I didn't get everything done that I wanted to do. The kids and I went to Kroger, then came back and unloaded and we went out to lunch at Papadeaux. I like their food, which is a lot of cajun inspired dishes. I ordered an appetizer of nuggets of fried alligator, and Mike and I polished it off. It was yummy. Alesia tasted it ans said "It does NOT taste like chicken! It tastes ilke shrimp!" Mike also ate catfish, which is so delicious, and raspberry lemonade. He ate a good lunch.
Later, while Mother napped, I had to let Alesia work on a school project on the computer, and while she did that, I read a book called Deep Dish, by Mary Kay Andrews. I don't know if you'd call it a romance book or just a novel, but it's wonderful, as you can see here. I kind of dread reading a book that's really entertaining, because then I don't want to put it down, to do silly things like sleeping. I have 2 other books going, and a stack I need to read.
EVEN later - I was sitting at the kitchen table, and Alesia, standing next to me, thought it would be funny to make comments about my hair. "Why is your hair so curly, Mom?" she asked. I was tired. "God made it curly, kiddo," was my answer. When we met, my hair was very long and heavy, and the curl was dragged out. Then I got it cut so short that it was oddly straight, for many months. Now it's growing out a bit and curly again.
Alesia called Mike over to point out a snow white curl at the crown of my head, and giggle. Mike pretended to be a gorilla and dig lice out of my head and nibble them, giggling a lot. I put up with this for a minute so I could look at my mail. When I finally got up and went in the bathroom, my hair looked like it had been attacked by bees. Good thing I am not vain about that sort of thing.
My brother e-mailed yesterday and said he was sleeping better since the rockets and bombs weren't dropping all night. That tells us he had a hard time sleeping last week. When he doesn't sleep he gets REAL cranky - glad I wasn't there in Baghdad with him. Of course, if I were in a place where bombs were dropping - even if they were a couple of miles away - I would have to wear some big ol' Depends. Yep, it would be stinky to be around me.