Last Sunday, my husband and I met our prospective kids.
Here's what I honestly expected: we'd play, we'd have fun, I'd love them instantly, and we'd know for sure this is what we wanted - to adopt these two beautiful children.
Here's what really happened: The kids walked into the door. They were smaller than I thought they'd be. That's no problem, I thought - I really can raise these kids! Then they were set loose. My husband I ran in circles, got dizzy, fell down, painted the house black, everything else that happens when you're with a five year old and a three year old. I was actually sore the next day from turning cartwheels with the children. They were so DEMANDING. Literally, "get me some juice!"; "get me candy!" "paint this bedroom wall pink for me!"
The little girl was lovely, but it was clear she felt a little starved for attention. Her little brother steals the show with his loudness, his antics, and his massive tantrums. My husband and I got separated several times by the kids, so it became not so much "family" time as "play with one kid and then trade" time.
The boy...poor kid didn't get his nap. We had no idea he even missed his nap, but we found out the true results! His head exploded about four times over the course of the afternoon, and the brains made a terrible mess. Seriously, I felt like I was torturing this child when I put him in time out for being disobedient (once because he ran straight for the road when we were outside playing). He screamed. This child is part banshee; I'm sure of it.
They went home after four hours. Four short hours.
I've spent the following week wallowing in despair. I have doubts, and I feel guilty about them.
I have doubts that I can handle two kids all the time. I have doubts that I want to. I have never valued quiet in my house so much in my life. I begin to doubt wanting children at all.
Then I think about flying a kite with them, or taking them to the park, or how my girl laughed when I sang to her about Bob the Tomato (thanks, Veggie Tales!). I'm told I wouldn't be making a responsible decision if I had no doubts. I guess then, I'm being responsible. I don't like, it, though.