Not much time to write before the lights go out in my brain and I devolve into primordial ooze.
She is here, she is home, she is a tiny human with feelings that are much bigger than her body, and she has some very legitimate concerns. The second attempt at bedtime – at around 9pm, btw – was marked by probably one of the most incredible conversations I have ever had, and I have conversations for a living. In her broken toddler Lithuanian or whatever it is they speak at almost three, she was able to communicate to me that she is scared, that this place is different and kind of weird, that her mommy is the same thing as home, that she is worried that she will be bad and make us reject her, that she feels unwanted by the foster home she just left, that she is worried she will not live to see the morning, and that she really, really, really likes our kitties. Then she wrapped her spindly fingers around a chunk of my hair and said, “I like it here.”
She very quickly passed out after that, which is not surprising considering the incredible emotional heavy lifting she was doing. She insisted on piling every toy in the room into her bed and then lying on them, upside down. This is apparently the preferred sleeping arrangement. I am going with it.
Onward and upward, y’all.