He’s the classic middle child. Turns out, he just needed Cooper to come in to make it his official position instead of just his state of mind.
Middle children often feel looked over, and, in this case, it’s true.
I missed Lucas’s adoption anniversary.
Last month, on March 28, we should have celebrated his fifth adoption anniversary! My, how time flies! I clearly remember picking him up from the shelter… well, trying to pick him up. He would. not. get in the car. Poor guy was so scared. At the time, we had no idea the depth of his fear. But even if we had known, even if we had a crystal ball that showed us all the cowering and aggressing and crying and barfing and drooling we’d face, we still would have shoe-horned him into the backseat to take him home that day.
Because helping Lucas overcome his fears has expanded our hearts more than we could have dreamed that day we first picked him up. We’ve cultivated patience. We’ve developed an intense well of compassion. And, each time Lucas overcomes something else, we’ve mastered the art of celebrating victories!
Now, I’ve gotten into the habit of saying we’re not “there” with him or that there’s a lot more to still work on. The reality is that every single day is work. Just the other day he flipped out at a dog on the other side of the street. While it’s disheartening when we have a setback, it’s also another huge lesson for me: There isn’t really a “there” to get to.
Even though Lucas gets overlooked sometimes – because of Emmett’s larger-than-life personality or Cooper’s need for constant supervision – I’m confident he’s happy with his place in our family. He is a sweet, goofy, gentle giant, and I’m so grateful that he came into our lives five years and one month ago.
I love you, Lucas!