Ah, the joy of knowing.
Way back in our university years things were easy to know. We knew we were in love, we knew we wanted to travel the world together, we knew we wanted a wedding in Montana and a new life in New York. We knew we wanted children and we knew that the first way we wanted to grow our family was with international adoption. Then eventually we knew it was time to begin the process and we knew Ethiopia was the country. We didn't know everything that would be required along the process. The paperwork, the shuffling and sorting of numbers and documents, the waiting. The waiting, waiting waiting. And then we figured it out, and now we're parents.
And we still don't know that much.
I can't for the life of me figure out what drives his morning and afternoon naps and when or how long they last. And there's absolutely no rhyme or reason to his food preferences. One day he's sucking on a clove of garlic wolfing down an entire basket of sweet potato fries, and then next he's staring at me as though I just used my Manolo's to hammer in a few random nails because apparently I didn't get the memo that sweet potatoes are out, and I have no idea what's in. Then there's the "is he whining because he's worried he won't have enough food" vs "is he whining because he knows if he screams loud/long enough he'll get what he wants" (and btw somebody PLEASE tell me what that is...) conversations. Those are really fun to have, especially in public. It's truly enjoyable to attempt explaining to people that we actually should be giving in to his every wish and whim, because to him everything is still in survival mode and there's no guarantee that he is going to be fed tomorrow. Yes, that goes over really well and everyone completely understands. I just know it.
So, cheers to what we knew and here's hoping for eventually knowing something else at some point in the near future. Wait a minute. Strike that. Reverse it. So much time and so little to do.