Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Set Back Out of Nowhere

We have had a rough couple of days with George. First, I got an email yesterday during school that George had an accident and then threw away his clothes, refusing to put on the extra clothes the school keeps for instances like this. Eventually, his teacher was able to get some clothes on him, but she was a little concerned about his behavior.

Generally speaking, George was fine when he came home yesterday. We talked a little about what happened and I assured him that I was not angry at him and that accidents do happen. I thought he understood. But then, he was very mean following dinner.

Then, this morning, he refused to eat breakfast. Now, this child never misses a meal and he asked for the oatmeal. It was a little mind-boggling. He was difficult every step of the way, refusing to put his shoes on, telling me he was NOT going to wear his hat and gloves, and then finally telling me that he was going back to bed and not going to school.

Sure enough, when it was time to go outside and catch the bus, he was right there...skipping through the door and calling out, "I love you! Bye!"

Confusing!

This afternoon, the kids were all doing their own thing and George was hanging out with me in the kitchen as I made dinner. We got a Christmas card from a fellow Ethiopian adoptive family. He saw a boy with the exact same ET shirt her wore for Harvest Fest and he suddenly announced that he wanted to go back to Africa. I told him his mommy and daddy were here in America and he had a family that loved him. He said, "I can get a new Africa Mommy and a new Africa Daddy." I try not to take this talks personal anymore and decided to talk about all the things he would have to say goodbye to if he went back to Africa. We talked about saying goodbye to his siblings...no response. Say goodbye to school and your friends there....no response. Say goodbye to our house and our puppy...no response. Say goodbye to your bike and your toys and your shoes..."Ok Momma. I want to stay. I love my stuff."

Sigh.

On the way home from AWANA, George announces, "I want to live at church."

I am tired. I don't even have the energy to analyze why he is acting this way. He was angry all day at Christmas music! I'll think about it tomorrow morning. Until then, I hugged him tight, tucked him into his own comfy bed and said a silent prayer that tomorrow would be better.

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