I don't know whether to call this number 16, or 17, since I missed a week with him being gone. I've pretty much made my choice, it would seem. It's been 17 weeks since Amanda left, or since I've been sending out these newsletters. I'm sure he had a great time at Amanda's up there. She said he had fun. And that she spent the first day with him putting him in time out for every little thing in order to establish her authority. She even said I should do that with him. Sigh. She figured out he's allergic to something, since his eczema healed almost completely up. It appears that it's the benadryl that has been doing the trick, so I'm going to call Dr. Sams to get him an allergy screening. I've been giving him the claritin but his skin is beginning to break out. Eczema and Asthma are related to each other somehow. David likes to tell me what PBS show is coming on, and he gets SO EXCITED! He really likes "Super Why!", a show I'm not overly fond of. Oh well, it isn't terrible.
Amanda didn't send out any kind of anything while she had him. That would have been a nice thing to have.
David came home on Saturday evening. When he came off the tram from the terminal to the main building, he saw me, and slowly, deliberately crumpled down to the floor, and just lay there for a minute. I went over to pick him up...he didn't seem overly happy to see me, nor was he upset. We wandered around the airport, David, Amanda, and I, got his luggage, and then we went up to the roof of the airport to watch planes come in for a while. Amanda said that when David got used to me, he began to act less manageably...but it seems that Colleen is the same way: when she has been away from her mom for a while, she acts up a bit in the same kind of way.
Normally I'm pretty good at details but this week I have only one thing I can think of that I relate:
Sunday night, David woke up screaming bloody murder. I could not for the life of me figure out what was wrong. It took me an hour of holding him, trying to get him to go back to bed, asking him what's wrong...he woke up and asked me to go sit at my computer and get some coffee for myself. I had been asleep for a few minutes...I heard his screaming, so I went to his bed, and then he asked me to do the coffee thing. It was 10:30. I told him that it was too late for coffee, but I'd sit with him for a while, but he just kept crying, inconsolable. I gave him some Gatorade (ga-reed)...but nothing I could do would make him feel better...I asked him if he hurt, if his tummy hurt, or his head hurt, or if he was hungry...eventually I asked him if he missed his mommy, and he said yes. I asked him if I could cry, too, but he said no. So I didn't cry with him. After that, he went back to sleep.
We're back in our routine for the most part. I like how he says and demonstrates (at the same time) that he is walking back---wards.
Meanwhile, I'm back on the potty training track. David tells me to change his diaper pretty soon after he gets smelly...I ask him if he can tell me before, rather than after, but he says no. I wonder what he's afraid of...
It's been a week...I hope next week will be a bit lighter on the subject matter.
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