Our Weekend With Bumble Bee
Unfortunately, I'm too busy to blog much today, or to make this thoughtful, humorous, or even interesting. Work stinks. I want to be home in bed listening to the rain. I think I have a bad attitude today. I am tired. But I feel like I should get down a few thoughts before I forget them and before I push them aside for other more "important" details of life.We had a long weekend with S. who turns 3 in October. I know why her foster mom needed respite. Although very sweet, she was scared to death of my husband (probably as he is...well... - big and male). We nicknamed her "Bumble Bee". She liked that, and then decided that we all should be called "Bumble Bee". She couldn't pronounce K's, so "Michael" came out as "Mytoll".
Friday night we ate macaroni and cheese (though she did not allow Mytoll to eat at the table with us or come near her), watched some TV, and then it was bath time. She enjoyed her bath, putting on her pajamas, and I climed into the full-size bed with her in the 2nd bedroom which is also Mytoll's office. She seemed to enjoy the feel of the down comforter, and played with a few of her things. Mytoll asked her nicely if he could sit on the bed too. She agreed, and we all laid on the bed and sang "Twinkle, Twinkle" (which of course sounded like "tintle, tintle") and Jesus Loves Me. She snuggled up beside me and fell fast asleep. I stayed there a good long time, afraid to move and wake her up lest she become upset that she was alone in a very strange house with even stranger people. By the time I got back to our bedroom, Mytoll was fast asleep
I had her by myself on Saturday as Mytoll had left early to drive to Atlanta to audition for "Stump the Schwab" - a sports trivia game show on ESPN - good blog fodder, but I am not in the mood. And no, it's not PMS.
Saturday, I made scrambled eggs and toast. Bumble Bee refused to eat any. I got her to drink some apple juice and eat a Nutrigrain bar later in the morning. We got dressed and went to Joseph Beth bookstore. There is an enormous kid's area with a wood train set and castles. Even though there were other kids playing, Bumble Bee didn't want to go near them. She stayed on the outskirts next to me. When she got crabby, she wanted McDonald's. The chicken nuggets seemed to make her happy for a time. After that, we came home and took a nap. I couldn't call it a nap, because she would start to scream and cry. But I laid down in my bed and she came in too and crawled in next to me. I tried to keep my eyes closed, but every time I'd open them to check on her she had hers wide open and was staring at me. After a while, I finally checked and she was asleep. I guess I fell asleep too because an hour later I rolled over and looked at the clock and it was - um, an hour later.
For dinner she wanted her leftover chicken nuggets and cold French fries. I let her have them. Then, she ate a cup of sugar free chocolate pudding.
Mytoll called on his way back from Atlanta and told me to go ahead and give Bumble Bee her bath. Everything went as planned until I brought in a large plastic cup. Apparently, she knew this was a sign of hair-washing to come because she snatched it away and started screaming and crying in an instant. I tried to comfort her, but it was useless. The process had begun. I wet her hair which caused more crying. I started to shampoo it with tearless shampoo and she stopped crying while I massaged it in and made her hair all sudsy. When I poured the water on the back of her head, she stood up and screamed and hit me and cried and yelled blood-curdling cries. It was so loud, it actually hurt my head. I just held on and finished rinsing. She refused to sit back down, so I had to wash this naked little child who was standing straight up in the tub screaming at the top of her lungs. After I pulled her out of the tub, she stopped screaming, and began whimpering instead that she was cold. I told her if she would have stayed in the tub like I asked her, she would have stayed warm. I dried her quickly and put on her pajamas. Suddenly, she was happy as a lark. No tears, no screaming. And I was soaked, covered with soap and shampoo and sweaty.
Mytoll came home to find a clean and happy Bumble Bee lying on the sofa with her head on my lap and a blanker over her watching TV. No trauma - just a soft and sweet and clean little girl. I spared him the details. I liked her, and really just wanted her to be happy. All she wanted to do was watch football with Mytoll.
When bedtime came, Bumble Bee announced that she was going to sleep in our bed with us. Before we could react, she had climbed into our bed on my side of the bed and tucked herself in. We decided to let it go and make the best of it. Mytoll got in on his side of the bed, and I slept in the middle. She put an arm over me, and fell fast asleep.
On Sunday morning, she didn't want to get dressed, or pee, or eat breakfast, or have her hair done. So, she sported a baby 'fro to church - I was glad I at least got to put some of Mytoll's oil sheen hair spray on it and pick it out nicely. She looked rather stylish, I thought. But whenever she laid her head down, it made an indentation in her little 'fro. Of course, she couldn't have cared less.
Bumble Bee didn't eat a lot, but did enjoy the doughnut holes in the church visitor's area before service started. She clung to Michael like he was her lifeline. When he had to go up front to play the drums, she watched him intently. About halfway through the sermon she decided she was cold, and started to whine about it while hurling herself about on the seats. She had screamed like a banshee when we tried to take her to the preschool class or the nursery. I was forced to take her out of the service, where she proceeded to hurl herself onto the ground in the parking lot and cry and scream and kick. There was nothing I could do except wait it out. When she stopped, I asked her if she was ready to go back in and be quiet. She said yes. Once back in the service, she sat on my lap and fell fast asleep. I couldn't even stand up for the praise songs at the end of the service.
No matter what we were doing, approximately every hour Bumble Bee would bust out with "I want my mommy!" very loudly. Of course she did. I am 34 and I live in Lexington, and often my mommy who lives in Florida still manages to ticks me off. But sometimes I still want my mommy so badly that if it were socially appropriate to exclaim it in the middle of McDonald's, I would probably have done so myself.
Bumble Bee had issues with Michael from the start. She did not allow him to touch her, come near her, or even sit at the table with us to eat dinner. We did not expect such a reaction. Her foster mom is single with a teenage daughter, so there have been no men around her for her 3 months in foster care. Come Sunday, she started to warm up to Michael and began to want him to hold her, carry her, and even play with her after we got home from church. When he laid down on the bed to read the paper, she laid down beside him on her belly just like he had done. She even went through the sale fliers pointing out various things she recognized. Then she decided to climb on Mytoll's back and ride him like a horse. Mytoll learned what 35 pounds of toddler feels like jumping on you.
We attempted to go to the Greek festival on Sunday, but Bumble Bee was so grouchy that it made it intolerable. We bought the food we came for, and headed back home. Bumble Bee played with my costume jewelry and played "Bye Bye" where she would pretend to pack a bag, say goodbye and walk down the hallway proclaiming she was leaving. I'd say goodbye to her. A few seconds later, she would turn around and walk into the room like she's just arrived. I'd act surprised and exclaim how good it was to see her and ask her how her trip was. She'd say "good" and grin, and then start the whole pretend game over again. This was repeated no less than 30 times.
By the time her foster mom came to get her on Sunday, Mytoll and I were tired. And Bumble Bee was cranky. We wondered if she felt a little warm and might have developed a fever. Stress will do that to you. We packed up her little purple backpack she had brought with her pull-ups and clothes, and "The Cat in the Hat" book, and sent her on her way.
Back in the house, Michael stood in the livingroom and said, "Listen. You hear that? Silence." It was nice. I take silence for granted. I imagine once we have our own placement, silence will disappear almost completely from our lives.
This was a tough weekend. I feared I was making a mistake in wanting a child of my own. I worried I would not be able to handle the stress. But Bumble Bee was a stranger to us, and we to her. I wondered what it would be like were we to adopt a child like her. Would she ever get over not having her "mommy"? Would she ever be able to love Mytoll and trust men? By the end of the weekend, she was hugging us both, and giving Mytoll and I kisses, and saying "I love you." I wondered if in her little world "I love you" meant she was glad we did not yell and scream and hurt each other, and that we were loving to her. I wondered what she thought in her little 3 year old mind.
I told my mother that I thought we stunk at this. I said I thought we would get better at this. She replied that speaking from experience, she could tell us we would NOT get better at this - we would only get worse. Great. Well, so much for living in a fairy tale. Where is my Prince Charming, darn it? Well, I guess I'm no Snow White either.
At least work now feels like a cakewalk.
posted by No Longer In Crisis @ 8/29/2005 03:10:00 PM
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