I've been told that the first couple of months post-adoption are just about surviving, period. That nothing feels settled, everything has additional stress, it's all just up in the air and icky and wonderful at the same time for a while. Sarah's been extra-sensitive about her boo-boos, Gennie's been engaging us in potty-use wars ("But I don't want to go right NOOW!"), and Dave and I do rather a lot of hand-wringing when we think nobody's looking. Tonight Zitao pitched a fit and eventually cried herself to sleep because I wouldn't let her eat lots of snacks right before bedtime (mind you, she had eaten plenty earlier in the evening, and was offered water in any case). She had kind of a hard day today in terms of testing limits. If I flipped a switch on, she turned it off (and giggled). If I adjusted the television for the other girls, she adjusted it back (and giggled). If I said, "Bu" (No), she did whatever it was she just did again (and giggled). Well, there's nothing that takes me from 0 to 60 in terms of being annoyed with a child faster than a kid who thinks it's hilarious to disobey when I'm visibly frustrated.

Her sisters and I were annoyed enough with her during a movie today that I finally picked her up and hauled her little disobedient patootie upstairs to her room. Once there, she gave me a look that said, "Oh, I guess you really meant it, huh?" She didn't cry, though, and she busied herself with a book while I went back downstairs to tend to wounded egos and Sarah's finger, which had been smooshed while in a TV controller squabble with her newest little sister. Of course, all of the children I've given birth to never test limits, whine, giggle when they're misbehaving, or otherwise behave inappropriately (yeah, right). Seriously, while I believe some of her behavior is related to adoption stress, I also think it's related to just being a kid!

I've already been neck-deep in a case of "be careful what you wish for," in that she's been glued to me all day every day since we've been home. She's been ON me, not NEXT to me, and insists on being carried to find snacks, to go to the bathroom, to explore whatever she's exploring. This is GREAT for bonding, but it'd kind of like having a 45 pound newborn that doesn't nap (and whines when you try to put her down). It's tiring! More tiring than post-newborn stuff, in my opinion. And if I lock the bathroom door while I'm inside, Eleanor assumes this is a great mistake, and knocks, calls "Hey, MA?," and tries to rip the doorknob off while I plug my ears and hum a Souza march. Gennie does this too, if she realizes that I'm actually attempting to be alone for 30 seconds. On the other hand, Eleanor hasn't been clingy at all when we're out and about, or when I drop her off at kindergarten. Weird.

Dave took the girls to the park and the ice cream shop in an attempt to give me a "break," which was nice, but just made me crazy thinking about all the productive things I should be doing with the time. I was also feeling rather juvenile and whiny, thinking about how everybody else got to go have fun while I was stuck at home with THE PILE. It's "that time of year" at the university, and I have a list 10 miles long of everything I need to do for the end of the semester, which is definitely exacerbating my overall stress level. So, what did I do with the "break" time? I made a to-do list (which included big, icky things, like reviewing neuroscience lectures and figuring out the Denver medical institutional review board procedures for a lab project, and some easily crossed-off stuff to "balance it out"), left messages for people to call me (I'm to the point of hiring out some landscape work, never mind my good intentions to do the stuff that needs doing), ate a big bowl of ice cream that I shouldn't have, watched 10 minutes of "This Old House" until I felt guilty about everything I haven't fixed at my own old house recently, opened the computer folder containing the files I should be working on, but chickened out for actually doing anything very productive with them, stared at the clutter that I hate but didn't feel like picking up right now, did my mother-in-law's laundry (she's stuck without machines for a while until the plumber gets her gas line in), and ordered new blackout roller shades for the kids' bedrooms (probably indicating a deep-seated wish that they sleep longer during the lighter days of summer - hey, it could happen). I should have taken a nap, really, since I spent so much time looking at stuff and thinking about how I just didn't have the motivation to do anything - but I didn't. And I managed to make myself feel guilty about not napping, too. I'm currently awake at 12:30 a.m. writing this blog post, which is having a similar guilt-inducing effect. But it's cathartic, too.

I recently filled out my Annual Review Form for the department, which included filling in my recent GPA (4.0), my cumulative GPA (4.0), my plan for the future (yada yada fake fake make it sound good), and a short summary of other life activities the department might want to keep in mind while reviewing my file (holy cow, don't get me started, I'm the only grad student nuts enough to mother three small kids while pursuing the double doctorate, but I'll just write something extremely brief and happy-sounding). It had the unique effect of making me feel better (hey, I'm doing okay so far), and kind of sick to my stomach at the same time (what the heck do I think I'm doing, anyway?).

Since it's the Grandmas' birthdays this weekend (Jean and Joanne), I thought I'd post some baby pictures of Zitao they haven't seen before. These are from Eleanor's lifebook, that the orphanage put together for her. I was looking at her lifebook tonight, trying to remind myself of the sweet little kiddo she really is, even when she's pushing my buttons. I look at these pictures and think, "Yep, that's my baby, and she always has been, even before I met her" and realize that she did take a minute today to say, "Wo ai ni, Mama" and give me an unsolicited kiss. She's a clingy, exuberant little rascal lately, but I love her like a crazy mom should.

We will make it, come what may. (Actually, May coming will be VERY GOOD - pun totally intended!)