Treading water

We just got back from a visit with Shelley's parents (Nonna & Nonno to Gus) in Florida. Gus was in hog heaven because not only do they live on the beach and have a pool, but several of his cousins live very close so he got to play with them, and some even brought their DOGS! This kid could not have been more thrilled. The mommies were also really impressed with what an adaptable little guy we have - no problems with jetlag or being shuffled from place to place. (We on the other hand were wrecked from our red-eye flight. Thankfully Shelley's parents have plenty of coffee!)
Gus swam everyday, multiple times a day. He and Shelley go to swim lessons at the Y every Saturday, so the kid has some skills. Nonna and Nonno got him a little thin life jacket-y thing, and he was excited to have such independence in the pool. It was great to see him enjoying himself so much. He spent hours dog-paddling around and treading water.
Treading water never felt like very much fun to me. Sometimes, though, it's just what we have to do. Maintain. Currently, we're navigating how to do that in our relationship with G's birthmom. I say our relationship because at almost 20 months, Gus doesn't really have a relationship with her yet. Right now, all the relationshippin' falls fully on us. And sometimes, often, it feels like treading water. Like we are staying in the same damn place no matter how much effort we exert.
Don't get me wrong, we are committed to having an open adoption for many reasons, (some of them I've talked about here and here), and we want Gus to be able to have a relationship with his birthmom because she is just that, the person who gave him life and had to make a really hard choice. But none of this is black and white, and some of the reasons that she made that choice are also the same reasons that sometimes maintaining a relationship with her isn't the easiest thing in the world.
But I have to remind myself, relationships are often hard. Especially, let's be honest, with relatives. And that's what K is, she is related to us through Gus. It feels, currently, like there is a great chasm of grief between us. There are a lot of uncomfortable feelings from all of us churning around in there. Nobody wants to swim in it, with the exception of maybe Gus, he'd swim in anything. But the water is a little too deep and treacherous for him right now, I think. So our job is to teach him and support him and hone his skills so that he's prepared to confidently dive in at some point. Because even though the job of maintaining the relationship is ours right now, it is and always will be, about and for him.

Obstacles? I don't see any obstacles.

I've been thinking about obstacles while watching my son. He doesn't know what they are. Something is on the floor in your way? No matter, you crawl over it, force your way under it. There is a step, or a piece of furniture, or a cat in your path? Just keep going. If only it were that easy for the rest of us. One of his favorite games at the moment is to have Mama (me) crawl around behind him on the floor. He crawls a few feet, then stops and turns to make sure I'm following. I'm usually closer than he expects, I guess, and he bursts into peals of laughter, his right cheek dimple on full display. Then he takes off again. Usually under the dining room table and chairs. Despite the bruises on my knees and the pain in my wrists, I kind of love it. But I can't make my way through the chairs like he does, I have to move them. I can't fly across the floor with abandon - I need to move the toys and pots and pans. I choose to go around the cats.

Psychologically speaking, I feel like I come up against a lot of obstacles. Many I put there myself. (I'm working on this) Some were put there for me. Some, quite frankly, are put there by this kid - the one who seems so rarely hindered. I'm not necessarily complaining about this. It's all a learning opportunity - and on the days where I'm feeling okay and I've had enough quiet, introverted time to myself and I've eaten as often as I should, I dig learning opportunities. But obstacles are still hard. They trip us up. Make us falter in our stride. Change direction.

As much as I sometimes think, "How can I encourage him to continue to be blind to obstacles?" I ultimately think that would be doing him a disservice. Not everything should be easy. Learning opportunities are vital to growth. Changing direction is how we deal, how we stay alive, really. But I do hope that he will continue to be mostly unfazed by them, or at least that they won't throw him as far off his path as they sometimes do me. I want him to learn. To grow. To cope. And to get up and keep going if (and, most assuredly, when) he falls down. I hope I can foster in him an ability to meet his obstacles with less anxiety than I meet mine. I hope he will always be willing to try. If his personality now is any indication, I think (fingers crossed) it's a real possibility.

What do you mean I don't fit under here with this pack on my back?