The kids and I went out to get in the car
yesterday and there was a film of green pollen on it. Pollen season is here.
I don’t know what it’s like in other parts
of the country, but here in Atlanta [and Augusta] pollen season is a misery for
folks with allergies. A green film covers everything. My mother has a terrible
time, or used to before she got Veramyst – truly a wonderful product. I tell
everyone I know with allergies to try it. There’s no talking latino bee
promoting it on TV but it’s great.
I really screwed up yesterday with Michael.
I bought him some expensive Merrell shoes a
while back, because I wanted him to have shoes I didn’t have to tie every
morning. They have velcro closures. He can tie shoes with one hand, but not well. His prosthetic is now
too uncomfortable for him to wear often, and so he only wears it to ride a bike or play
tennis.
I bought myself some new tennis shoes a
while back, white Nikes, and Mike liked them so much I just gave them to him.
They were not comfortable to me, anyway. Now they are getting ratty looking
because he wears them all the time.
He won’t wear the Merrell shoes. He wore one
pair of Merrells and they got a hole in them, so I sent them back to the
company. They sent me a replacement pair but the style is a bit different. He
doesn’t like the style. He wore them several times before admitting that to me.
Well, first he said they were uncomfortable.
Yesterday, the Merrells went with his outfit
much better than the Nikes. I was trying to get Michael to wear the Merrells at
least some of the time, maybe on weekends, to spare the Nike shoes, so I don’t have
to buy new shoes again so quickly. He didn’t want to wear them. Without going
into the painful details, suffice to say I tried to offer him choices about the
shoes and he got very upset with me. I was short-tempered.
I finally took him and Alesia to Target
yesterday morning so he could buy shoes, with his own money, and I ran over to the
ATM. When I picked them up, he had bought a Nintendo game, not shoes. They
didn’t have the shoes he wanted in his size. I fussed at him, and he cried.
In principal, I feel like I shouldn’t go buy
him new shoes when he has a pair in very good shape, but just doesn’t like
them. However, was it worth making him cry?? No.
Was he crying to manipulate me? I don’t
think so. He said "Just take the money! I don't care!" and flung it all over the backseat of the car. It was said with deep despair. It tore me up.
I have had time to think about it.
Michael has a hard time giving up control to
me. Why should he trust a mom to take care of him and know what’s best? That’s
a new experience for him. He lived with a birthmom so alcohol impaired that he
was pretty much on his own, caring for himself and for her, when he was very small. Michael
told Mother a while back that he figured his birthmom was dead, because he
wasn’t there to take care of her. She was living off the money the government
gave her to care for him, like a welfare check, and when he went to the
orphanage that stopped.
When he was in the orphanage, his caretakers
said he was a leader. He had learned those skills on the streets. He is very
street smart, very savvy little boy. There is a survivor wisdom there.
I have an acquaintance whose daughter was also
adopted from a former Soviet bloc country, and the child was sent out on the
streets to steal money and food when she was 3 years old. Her alcoholic
birthmom would tell her, don’t come back without money - so she could buy vodka. The
therapist told me about a 3 year old in Russia who had to eat stuff
dropped out of dumpsters, to survive. These kinds of stories are not that
uncommon in former soviet bloc countries. Tiny children run around unsupervised
on the streets, and steal and scrounge to survive.
I think Michael sometimes had to steal and eat garbage
to survive. He hasn’t been able to tell me this yet, but he has dropped hints.
He does not want to be in public alone,
ever. Bruce took the kids to Walmart last time he was home, and Michael wanted
to stay right by his side. Bruce had to fuss at him a bit to get him to go with
Alesia, while he looked at something else. I recently let Alesia run into
Publix for a loaf of bread and Michael refused to go in, not wanting to leave
my side. He told me once that in Kazakhstan shopkeepers would sometimes be mean
to him. I can imagine in a poor village, a tiny boy in filthy clothes, with one
hand, might be treated harshly.
He told me all his life, he never knew when
he woke up in the morning if he would be alone, or if his mother would be there
in the morning. Many times, he woke up alone, with nothing to eat, and his
mother wouldn’t reappear for hours. No wonder he doesn’t like to be alone.
He also has no concept of caring for possessions, since he never had any until recently. The therapist said, he will take whatever is given to him, because he was never given anything until just a couple of years ago. In the orphanage, he was sometimes given a toy by a charitable group, but all toys had to be shared. Now he has things of his own, and he can finally be more discerning.
So I feel like a terrible mother for making
such a big deal out of the shoes.
When we got home from Target, we had to hurry off to our lunch date. Alesia went in the house to fetch Mother. Michael didn’t want to get out of my car and into Mother’s car. I had to literally pull him out. He had stopped crying but was almost catatonic. I held him close, rubbed his back, and told him I was sorry for losing my temper. After minute, he relaxed.
Michael has an amazing capacity to love and
forgive, especially when one considers what he has suffered in his life.
He is not an easy child to raise, but I feel
privileged to be his mom.
