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Well. What a motherloving MESS of a year that was, eh? I really love everyone's 'SEE YA 2020!' posts; the sheer hopefulness and perhaps shortsightedness (sorry Cynical Sue) that we will wake up on the 1st January 2021 and things will Just. Be. Better. I mean, wouldn't that be lovely? Maybe it will be true. Maybe we all just need to read that book 'The Secret' and manifest the shit out of life?? Manifest Coronavirus out of our lives and let the good times roll? I'm up for it if you are.
Life in Lima. I am thrilled to report that it is FINALLY better. The boy has returned. The happy, curious, exploradora, hilarious, hyper, inquisitive, clever, loving, affectionate little cookie has come back to me. All the time, a few months ago, when New Nanny was asking me what to do about the behaviour, the tantrums, the screaming, the unbearableness of it all and I was desperately shrieking, 'I DON'T KNOW, THIS ISN'T MY CHILD!!' (obviously, he is my child, but you get what I mean...that could get confusing for someone unfamiliar with how adoption works!!), all that time I was wondering if I'd broken him forever. If he'd ever come back. If she'd believe that this wasn't him. I genuinely felt like I was completely and utterly alone through that. Not a single person understood what we were going through. Not a single person could help or walk with me through it. And that was maybe tougher than the times when I was actually physically alone and trying to teach and look after him, 3 dogs and a cat on my own. I miss my Bee. :( There is no maybe. That period, that chapter of #quarantinechaos2020 was the absolute worst because my baby was screaming, literally, in pain and I had absolutely no way of helping him and fixing it.
Here we are now. After knowing that I had to just be there, at all times, available at the drop of a Zoom, and never insisting that he go outside with New Nanny or that I ever leave the house, ever, we are here. It's such a funny thing, instinct. People question all the time, with their words, with their faces, with their actions, if my son is really my son. How I could possibly know and love him the way they love their babies who they grew in their tummy. How I could possibly know and love him when someone else grew him. I see it a lot. I will never know what it's like to grow a baby and give birth to them, but I can tell you that I know my child like I know myself. And I love him beyond anything I could ever have imagined. Or, in fact, that's not true. That is what people say, isn't it, that they could never have imagined this amount of love. I did. I did imagine that. I already had it there, waiting. I love him the exact amount I knew I would. I have always known this and maybe that makes me weird because people don't generally say that, but I knew, I knew that I would love this much and it's nice to know you're right about one thing in this crazy world. So learning to trust my instincts about what my child needs, when I think I don't know, when I think I'm drowning and should maybe listen to the 'this is a phase' thing that other people are telling me, is something I need to keep working on. I was right about what he was going through and what he needed. We definitely need to find a therapist to play the hell out of this and work it all through very, very soon and I can only hope there's not more lasting damage come out of the fact he was abandoned again. I can only hope that my love is enough to repair some of the wounds this year has caused.
But for now, we are out the other side and I have my happy little genius back. He has learned some new words and is making more and more progress with speech all the time. 'Peace' - the word written in the book I got from Santa as a little girl, featuring me and my siblings, is his favourite right now. 'PEESH!', he declares loudly, beaming that beautiful smile from ear to ear. The word 'pish' has a special connection to someone in my past and I can't help but laugh when E is shouting this and I think of how the long 'ee' and short 'i' are so interchangable in Spanish... if you know, you know. :)
It's also time to make loads of decisions for our future now. I think I know and then something else happens. It's tough. What I do know is that E HAS to go to school next year. Yes, everyone has missed out this year. That is true and, as a teacher, I have felt that so deeply for my kids on screen. How hard I've tried to connect with them and have them connect with each other. How much I've felt that the only thing that matters is if they're happy, safe and feel connected to us. I give exactly no fucks if they know their 5 x tables. None. So I don't care if E knows how to add or write his name (he does) but when you are socially challenged already and you've missed a crucial year of socialising, what does that mean for the future? When you are already facing significant challenges in life, what does that mean for the future? I don't need him in school to count and learn how to write stupid CVC words. I literally don't care. I need him in school to learn that there are more people in the world than 'Nunny'. There are things to be shared and played with and laughed about and explored alongside. There are other Tiny Humans with which to share your life. These are the things I fret about all day, every day, pretty much and how on Earth I'm going to fix it all.
But that is that. And what comes next will just be whatever comes next that I have to start another fight for... and he is worth every single last molecule of energy that's in me.
Happy New Year, friends. Ending this year full of gratitude for my son, the life we have together, our gorgeous dogs and the memory of my beautiful Bee. xxxx
