The party this weekend threw Emma completely off course. Weird, I know. She looked like she was enjoying it while we were there, but in fact we returned home and she regressed big time.
The problem with adopting a 2 year old is that they just can't explain it. Maybe even if she was a teenager she wouldn't have words. Did something trigger a memory? Did so many little asian girls somehow send her over the top? The boats? Something someone said ot her?
She fell asleep in the car on the way home, and we had every intention of heading on to a party at my girlfriend's house later in the evening. Instead, Em woke up just panicked. She cried, she screamed, she clung to me as if her life depended on it. She was calm if I held her, but completely balistic if I didn't. She horded food for the rest of the weekend in her cheeks, and until mid-day Sunday she got a wild look in her eyes if I left the room without her. Putting her to bed Saturday was a chore, and she cried and fought sleep until close to midnight.
Poor little heart, how do we heal it for you? Sunday afternoon she returned to her old self, but Sunday night she woke up crying and I took her into bed with us. Glenn said he felt like we had just returned from China as he kept getting kicked in the head.
It is hard to watch your kids struggle in life and not be able to fix it. I suppose I'll always feel that way. Right now though, she seems so small and helpless, and I have so little to offer her. I can't erase the pain that she must be remembering, I can only hug her through it.
This week we'll have all week to do just that. We are headed to the ocean in a few days to play in the surf, build sand castles, and relax as a family. I think it may be just what the doctor ordered for Emma.
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