The Power of a (semi) Good night’s Sleep

Was Friday a low? I don’t know. We’ll have to get a lot further along in life to see where the lows are…But Friday was not a good day. Today, on the other hand, was and is. Everyone got a mostly good night’s sleep, although not necessarily in their own beds. We rode the 20 mile route in the Prouty (the shortest, and not what we’d planned to do, but we haven’t been on our bikes in a month!) Rory and Wyatt rode in the trailer, and I’d estimate they only whacked at each other for 3 miles or so (Rob was pulling them, so he might feel differently).

Point is, today was a little easier. Here are some things Rory is really good about: she accepts the inevitable–as in, I don’t want to get back in the bike trailer. Sorry, you have to! Okay. And she accepts it when she needs to wait to get my help because I’m already doing something with another kid. She says “okay, mommy.” She says thank you for everything. If she needs to, she shares, although she would rather not.

On the other hand, she still pokes and pokes at Wyatt until he responds, and then cries. But most of today was just him trying to make her cry…he is not happy. I know he’s not happy, I feel terrible that he’s not happy. He doesn’t want this. He feels like she’s here, taking everything away from him. He’s ok as long as it’s something he’s kind of over–but for her to ride his bike, or take me away when he wants me…
So things are going better, for me and for Rory, but not for Wyatt. And I couldn’t possibly feel worse about that. We’ll wait it out, it will be ok…I guess. Man, I meant this to be a positive post, but I’m really feeling badly about him!

On the plus side, Weeds restarted. Off to think about something completely different for a while! And here’s another plus–Rory really took to one of our babysitters today. I think she could see how much the three love her. Plus we’d stopped by her house, and she has cats, and Rory loves cats. Anyway, I go back to work, a little, on Monday and Heather comes. I’ll just be in my office, here, so Rory won’t feel left, but it’s good to imagine a little light at the end of the tunnel. I need a break from EVERYONE!

I think Sam feels the same, so he’s having a sleepover. It’s restful just to think of him getting away from all of us. (I would if I could!)

2 Responses to “The Power of a (semi) Good night’s Sleep”

  1. Tracy says:

    I have been lurking on your site for a while but never posted. We adopted our son (from Vietnam at 8.5 mo old) when our daughter (from China) was 2.5 years old. She HATED our son on sight, she was jealous and her whole personality changed. She went from this totally easing going child to a little girl that was MEAN much of the time. It took her a really long time (6-9 months) to really get used to having a little brother. But now that we have been home over 2 years they are best friends (that still fight….lol). I have asked her several times if she remembers when she was the only child and she always says no. So I’m sure a year from now Wyatt will not even remember a time when Rory was not there-it will just be his reality and he won’t be unhappy anymore.

    It gets so much better. It took me 6 full months to really get back in the swing of things. A friend who adopted her second child told me it would take 6 months and I remember saying “please don’t let it take that long” it seemed like forever. But the time passed so quickly and now we are in the groove again.

    I’m glad you are having some good days and that you get to go back to work and get away from the kids (I am a SAHM now, but worked for about 6 months after bringing our second child home).

  2. Misty says:

    Oh KJ. I think what you are experiencing is perfectly normal. Wyatt will adjust just as Sam and Lily adjusted when a new sibling came home. It takes time. It just feels different b/c Rory is older. Wyatt did not have the newborn period to slowly adjust to her as your other children did with him. It will be hard on him for a while but he will transition. Hang in there. This too shall pass.