My baby boy. My non-twin. What a kid!
He is small and cute and funny. Just this past week he has started calling me Supermom. It’s not like he has any idea what the world deems an actual “supermom”…it’s more like that is what he thinks my name should be. Like, “I need some breakfast, Supermom.” or “No, Supermom, I don’t want to wear that shirt.” Seriously, this kid.
He has crazy thick hair and the same blue eyes as his two older brothers and two older sisters. He wants to wear shorts every single day. Or maybe his sisters polka dot tights. He loves to fiddle with little things and for a while had a fascination with any type of little clip. He even had a little clippy that he took to be with him! He is delayed in his fine motor skills and has occupational therapy for an hour a week. However, he managed to take the bolts & screws out of our kitchen chair while he was in time out one day. He generally loves bracelets and necklaces and sunglasses. The fact that he loved his sisters pink cowboy boots sparked all five of them to ask Santa to bring them boots last Christmas. He is the youngest of 8 children, he is small for his age and he makes up for all of that with his wanna be big kid personality.
Michael is five years old and has been in our home and our hearts since he was two and a half. I think his personality and his development has been impacted differently by adoption than the others because he has been with us longer than he was without us. He didn’t have much time at home with his biological parents and he had less time in foster care than his siblings. I’m thankful we got him as a two year old. As a momma who always wanted babies…it’s been fun to see him transition into toddlerhood and now he’s a little boy. Sniff.
I read an article the other day about all the sentimental (and sometimes joyous) moments you have with your last child. We didn’t experience all of them, due to the way our family has been built, but some certainly hit home. I wonder sometimes if I spoil Michael or baby him too much…or simply allow him to get away with things I wouldn’t let his siblings get away with. And then I realize he’s my baby…and I need to raise him up to be a great man someday. But balanced within that is holding on to my little boy.
Michael has some non life threatening food allergies. Unfortunately not all that information got passed along to foster parents as he changed placement. We were able to see a pediatrician and get an allergist referral soon after placement. He has eczema and it tends to flare up if he eats something he is allergic to. Poor kid is allergic to milk and he drank a LOT before we knew it. We switched him to almond milk, but still allow him to have other milk products like cheese & yogurt. He’s also allergic to peanuts, cashews, oats, carrots & eggs. He is my most picky eater and would live off sausage biscuits, crackers, cheese and peanut butter (actually almond or soy butter, but it’s just easier to call it Michael’s peanut butter) on a flour tortilla. He also loves fruit and most vegetables. He’s been known to bust into the refrigerator and take a bite out of a bell pepper. He’s also been known to throw a FIT when I won’t let him have a third piece of fruit at breakfast.
Because of his eczema he wore a white onesie under his clothes for a couple of years. It really helped keep him from scratching too much. Plus, I got to have a kid in onesies. : ) And back to that whole “last child” thing…I’m sure I kept at least one or two onesies in his drawer for months after he was finished wearing them.
So he’s my baby and I worry about spoiling him. Michael is the hardest for me to get to go to sleep at night. The one that doesn’t want to sit at the table for meals..or school. He is the only one with a strong opinion about what he wants to wear.
But he’s the only one that ever said “I hold you” with outstretched arms waiting to be picked up. He’s the only one that cried (cries) for mama when he goes to his Sunday School class. He’s the only one who crawls into bed with us almost every night, carrying his pillow and his Elmo blankie with him. He’s the only one with a blankie.
So yes, he’s my baby.
(Click HERE for Michael’s snapshot slideshow!)