Some cute conversations with a very funny little man

September 29, 2010 at 12:10 am (Uncategorized)

1)
Me: Do you like the chili Andikpeme?

A: It is awesome!

Me (shocked that he knows that word): I’m glad you like it

A: It is the bestest soup ever! You did a really good job mommy!

2)
(Andikpeme takes “breaks” at the bottom of our main staircase when he is upset or overstimulated)

A: (In a very quiet, respectful voice) Excuse me, excuse me?

Daddy: Yes A.?

A: I think I farted

3)
(Daddy and the kids were reading a book and labeling some of the animals)

Daddy: Touch the wooly lamb

A: Touch the wooly man

4) Shortly after we came home I decided to watch the TV show, “A Baby Story” with A. to explain the role/relationship of his first family and our family. I knew that he remembered lots from his past, but wasn’t sure how he was processing it all because of the communication difficulties. Here is a conversation between A. and daddy months later….

Daddy: “Mommy will go to the hospital to have the baby and you and Ekaete will stay at grandma and grandpa’s until the baby is here.”

A: “Oh! I want to watch her on the TVs daddy!”

5) Both kids were sitting on daddy’s lap and Ekaete was staring at Andikpeme

A: (In a Brooklyn accent) “What? Ekaete, I love you! What?? You don’t love me anymore???”

Ekaete continues to stare blankly at her brother 🙂 Sometimes he says the strangest things!

6) Sitting down for dinner….

Me to Brendan: “Is there more milk downstairs?”

Brendan: “Yeah, I can go it for you in a minute”

Me: “No, that’s fine…I’ll get it.”

Andikpeme: “No mommy! Let daddy do it.”

(I start thinking about how sweet it is that little boy wants to take care of me and let me sit down)

Andikpeme: “You have to share, mom. It’s nice to share with daddy.”

(Nope, he is looking out for daddy’s best interest here. Apparently I am a really selfish person!)

7)

Andikpeme: Why does daddy give me many sweets?

Me: I don’t know. Because you are a good boy and he loves you.

Andikpeme: That’s silly. (Chuckles to himself). That’s a goose!

(We must have called him a silly goose at some point and he’s taken the saying to another level!)

In case you didn’t notice, most of these conversations took place during meal times. I am so sad for others when I find out that they do not sit down at the table and share daily meals together with their family. Honestly, we have so many great conversations around the table (many that leave us crying of laughter), I cannot imagine our family without them.

This picture was just thrown in because it's cute and funny like our little man!

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Our brave boy

September 24, 2010 at 10:51 pm (Uncategorized)

We’ve spent a lot of time trying to prepare Andikpeme for his blood test. Our last attempt was not successful so we decided to give him a bit more time to try to prepare himself. By last weekend, he was asking me to please go get his blood taken. Despite our preparations and his optimistic attitude I was not confident he would be able to manage his anxiety in the room so my mom came along to help me with Ekaete. We went to the hospital where they have extra staff available who are used to working with children with significant fears and an awesome jungle room. Andikpeme appeared relatively calm and was able to tell them that he wanted to sit on my lap for the needle…this lasted until they pulled out the little band. I could feel his heart rate rising, his grip tightening, and the panic setting in. It was just a matter of seconds before my poor boy let out his ear-shattering screams. He clung to me and pleaded behind in his closed eyes and tears, “No mommy…don’t….no mommy!!!!” The staff was supposed to be used to this kind of thing, but I saw them exchange surprised looks. The needle was not even out yet. So he screamed and fought us with all of his might, but we eventually got him on that bed, pinned, and stabbed. It was heart-breaking. He was so scared he lost control of his bodily functions. My heart ached for him. I cannot even put into words the terror that he felt. As soon as the needle was in him, it stopped. He looked at the needle, looked back at me, and I was able to reassure him that that was it. He watched them feel the viles and took some deep breaths. It wasn’t the needle, the pain, or the blood. Pure fear. But it was another occasion that we were able to praise him for overcoming a major fear, another really challenging moment that he survived with me by his side holding his face through the pain, and walking away hand-in-hand. We are building a new schema, one in which he has a constant support system, one in which he survives something very difficult and is able to say, “It’s over mom. I did it”.

I would give anything to be able to take that little heart and head of his and take all of the pain away.

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