Last night, Kyle and I were talking about the fact that our adoptees don't have the typical "difficult behaviors" of adopted children. They don't have meltdowns due to sensory overload. They don't "push our buttons" and manipulate us. And then Kyle reminded me that they did once upon a time. We were remembering the first week after Maya, Isaac and Daniel's adoption, when Isaac was asking for thirds of dinner. After seeing how Daniel's little tummy reacted to a normal American diet, we were not going to let Isaac overfeed himself. We gently told him that no, he could not have thirds. He started moaning.
We ignored him and got up to wash our plates. He followed us into the kitchen, stood right beside us and moaned. We went to the den and sat down on the couch. He leaned against the couch and moaned louder.
We got such a kick out of sharing this story.
Last night, we suddenly had a realization: We did the absolute worst thing we could have done. We ignored him.
He was communicating his fears and insecurities to us in the only way he knew how and we ignored him.
So tonight, after everyone went to bed, we sat Isaac down on the couch between us and apologized. I teared up as I told him that what we did was wrong. We told him that we want him to come to us any time he is afraid or mad or upset or just has a question. (He very rarely does this currently.)
I told him how I fell in love with him before I met him. Just looking at the pictures I had of him-- his ever-present smile and his charming face. I told him how excited I was to get to know him. How I told Kyle: I know I'm going to love that boy.
Then I told him that I do. I love him so much more now than I did then. Because now I do know him.
I told him he is my favorite Isaac in the whole world.