It's late. I didn't get all my stuff done today. If I owe you an email...I'll get you tomorrow, ok? I just got done rocking Theo, and nothing comes before that.
Theo has a very difficult time falling asleep. He sits up and rocks front to back in classic orphanage style. It drives me nuts, but there's nothing I can do short of sitting in his room for hours telling him to lay down. He always pops right back up and begins rocking again.
Not long ago he started taking some medication, clonidine, to help him sleep better. It has helped a little bit at night, but it has helped a lot with his impulsiveness and control during the day. That surprised me.
When I poked my head into his bedroom to check on him tonight, he stood up and said, "mama! ba ba ba ba ba..." (He said mama a few times months and months ago, but not at all lately.)
Now, how could I resist that?! I took him out of bed and we rocked a little while. He was wound tight. He was a little wildcat! After some singing and rocking he calmed and I put him back to bed.
Later on I heard Theo's ugly cry coming from his room. Nothing stabs me in the heart like his ugly cry. He must not be feeling good, but he can't tell me. So we did some more rocking. I did my best to get some Ibuprofen into him, thinking it might be growing pains.
I hate it that he can't tell me what's wrong.
But more than anything, I hate the years that he spent with no one to rock him, no one to kiss the hurt away, no one to comfort him. But God...
“I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten—
the great locust and the young locust,
the other locusts and the locust swarm—
my great army that I sent among you.
You will have plenty to eat, until you are full,
and you will praise the name of the Lord your God,
who has worked wonders for you;
never again will my people be shamed. Joel 2:25-26