It's been quiet her for awhile, I know.
I have been gearing up for a change. A good change and one that I have felt coming for awhile now.
I am saying good-bye to this old blog. It just doesn't quite fit anymore. I have felt the need to find a new home for my thoughts and ramblings. I feel like this family has a new topography and staying in the same old blog space felt stale and off.
I have been lucky enough to work with Christie from Bushel and a Peck Designs and she has worked to make me a new bloggy home that I love. I hope that you will all follow me there and continue reading about my adventures with the wunderkind from China, my struggles, my opinions and the random tributes to Joss Whedon.
My new blog is called Second Star to the Right and you can find it here:
http://on-til-morning.blogspot.com/
Please let me say that Christie was a dream to work with. She was kind, professional, patient and prompt. If you haven't ever read her blog, do yourself a favor; sit down with a nice cup of tea and read away. If you happen to be in the market for a blog re-do of your own, I highly recommend Christie and her work. I wasn't even sure what I wanted but she was able to nail it down and give me just the look I wanted but couldn't articulate.
That's it then.
Signing off ....
Monday, November 8, 2010
Thursday, October 28, 2010
The Lion, The Witch and...The Robot!
Thank you to my family for coming up and bringing birthday cheer along with you. We had so much fun with you guys. Even though Liam had "The Fastest Birthday Party Known to Man", it was still special and awesome and fun.
All I know is that Brevin in that costume has made my year.
Three Months, Two Years and Forever
Three months ago I walked into a Civil Affairs Office in the middle of sweltering China. I was grabbed on the arm by our Guide and she said, "There is your son! Go meet him. Play with him!" I moved like I was in a dream towards this small hunched figure and I made my feet move, one after the other until I was there and I could see him. There he was, my little boy. A son that had been in my heart for six months and I was finally meeting him. It's funny, he still hasn't been home as long as we waited for him. The three months we have had with him sometimes seem so short and sometimes it seems forever. I look at where we are now versus how we all started out, and I can see where we will be, it's lovely.
This boy is a scrummy bit of loveliness. He is huggable, lovable, squeezable. He is sweet, oh so sweet. Ornery too and he can take over a room with either his smile or his fussing.
I am still learning him and his ways but I can tell you this much: He is here and he fits just about perfectly. He is what we were all waiting on.
Two years ago this same boy was born. In China. With a Cleft lip and palate.
I am not sure that I am able to talk about why or how he ended up here with us. I know that in his two years this little boy has seen an abandonment, orphanage life, care in a specialized medical home, foster care, more orphanage care and then us; this is not the typical path for a child. There has been so much loss and separation and struggle to survive. He experienced one painful and big surgery al on his own, with no mother person or father person or even a sister person there to see him through. He has seen pain and sickness and hunger. Yet, this boy smiles and laughs and loves. He is here with a firm hand on life and he was ready to open his heart and let us in.
Forever. That might be just long enough to have him around. Forever is just about how long it will take me to show him how much I love him.
This boy is a scrummy bit of loveliness. He is huggable, lovable, squeezable. He is sweet, oh so sweet. Ornery too and he can take over a room with either his smile or his fussing.
I am still learning him and his ways but I can tell you this much: He is here and he fits just about perfectly. He is what we were all waiting on.
Two years ago this same boy was born. In China. With a Cleft lip and palate.
I am not sure that I am able to talk about why or how he ended up here with us. I know that in his two years this little boy has seen an abandonment, orphanage life, care in a specialized medical home, foster care, more orphanage care and then us; this is not the typical path for a child. There has been so much loss and separation and struggle to survive. He experienced one painful and big surgery al on his own, with no mother person or father person or even a sister person there to see him through. He has seen pain and sickness and hunger. Yet, this boy smiles and laughs and loves. He is here with a firm hand on life and he was ready to open his heart and let us in.
Forever. That might be just long enough to have him around. Forever is just about how long it will take me to show him how much I love him.
Liam at around 4 months old in China.
Liam on the day we met three months ago.
Liam last month, home with us.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Breakfast
Dear People Who Make Cream of Wheat,
We love all of your different flavors but why must you insist on putting chunks of freeze dried fruit into some of them? Srsly. Most of your clientele are kids that have just had a palate repair and they can not have the chunks of sticky fruit. This means that the Mothers must throw out half of a box at a time OR try to convince picky older siblings that your product is yummy and not considered a "baby" food OR stand at the sink and pick all of that weird fruit out by hand.
We are over the fruit chunks thank you very much.
That is all.
Sincerely,
Disgruntled Fruit Picking Mama
We love all of your different flavors but why must you insist on putting chunks of freeze dried fruit into some of them? Srsly. Most of your clientele are kids that have just had a palate repair and they can not have the chunks of sticky fruit. This means that the Mothers must throw out half of a box at a time OR try to convince picky older siblings that your product is yummy and not considered a "baby" food OR stand at the sink and pick all of that weird fruit out by hand.
We are over the fruit chunks thank you very much.
That is all.
Sincerely,
Disgruntled Fruit Picking Mama
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
My How The Little Witch Has Grown
My Aunt ( Holla Nonnie !!) made the most awesome witch's dress last year so we are revisiting it while we can. Just look at how much this girl has changed! Not much bigger per se but just look at her face, there is no more "little girl" to her at all, she's a big girl.
2009
2010
Monday, October 25, 2010
A Not So Nice First
This is probably going to make my sister have a stroke. No kidding, she will read this and then she will call me up yelling and cussing and demanding to know if I kicked some ass. Sister, this was an awful moment and I wasn't able to allow myself to get a full on righteous anger so you go right ahead, and then we will decide what to do next time (though I hope with all of my heart there is no next time).
We were at the park on Friday. It was a very nice, cool day and as we drove through the Little Italy that Cleveland is lucky to have, we couldn't resist stopping. We ate and then decided to walk down to the little park they have on a corner there. The sun was shining, planes were flying overhead, trains were chugging by on the nearby tracks, kids were laughing, it was so much fun.
Then, That Kid arrived. You know the one, loud and obnoxious, the one with no apparent parental unit. These kids always find me I swear. I was trying to take a picture of Liam and this boy, he was about 6, came up and tried to take my camera, then he decided that I should take pictures of him ( I politely refused). I put my camera away and I was trying to talk and play with Liam and pretend this kid wasn't there, he wandered off after a bit.
He came back about 5 minutes later. He stood there yammering and talking and I was just trying to watch Liam playing. Liam had his back to me and he was tracing the alphabet on this metal side to the play structure.
This kid walked up to Liam, stared directly at him for about a minute and then took his hand and touched Liam's face. I was sitting so the sun was in my eyes and Liam had his back to me and I didn't quite know what was happening other than this kid touching Liam. I instinctively reached out and gently but firmly grabbed this kids arm , moved it away and said, "Hey! there is no need for you to be touching my baby! Now you can leave."
As I was saying this and this brat was walking away, I realized that he had been grinding his finger on Liam's nose, the left side of his nose, his beautiful nose. This kid's expression was not innocent or curious, he looked like mean kids look when they pick on someone or when they smash bugs. This kid was a real piece of work.
So there it was. Our very first negative encounter concerning Liam's cleft, it's his left side that is affected, so he has that cute slope to his nose on that side, this is what that kid was pushing on. Call me crazy but I thought we would have issues mostly with adults. Silly me.
I wish I would have been more on the ball and realized what was happening. I would have used a bit more oomph in my voice, I would have told Les about it right away, I would have done MORE for my kid.
Well, you can believe that I will be a bit more Mama Bear-ish from here on out.
We were at the park on Friday. It was a very nice, cool day and as we drove through the Little Italy that Cleveland is lucky to have, we couldn't resist stopping. We ate and then decided to walk down to the little park they have on a corner there. The sun was shining, planes were flying overhead, trains were chugging by on the nearby tracks, kids were laughing, it was so much fun.
Then, That Kid arrived. You know the one, loud and obnoxious, the one with no apparent parental unit. These kids always find me I swear. I was trying to take a picture of Liam and this boy, he was about 6, came up and tried to take my camera, then he decided that I should take pictures of him ( I politely refused). I put my camera away and I was trying to talk and play with Liam and pretend this kid wasn't there, he wandered off after a bit.
He came back about 5 minutes later. He stood there yammering and talking and I was just trying to watch Liam playing. Liam had his back to me and he was tracing the alphabet on this metal side to the play structure.
This kid walked up to Liam, stared directly at him for about a minute and then took his hand and touched Liam's face. I was sitting so the sun was in my eyes and Liam had his back to me and I didn't quite know what was happening other than this kid touching Liam. I instinctively reached out and gently but firmly grabbed this kids arm , moved it away and said, "Hey! there is no need for you to be touching my baby! Now you can leave."
As I was saying this and this brat was walking away, I realized that he had been grinding his finger on Liam's nose, the left side of his nose, his beautiful nose. This kid's expression was not innocent or curious, he looked like mean kids look when they pick on someone or when they smash bugs. This kid was a real piece of work.
So there it was. Our very first negative encounter concerning Liam's cleft, it's his left side that is affected, so he has that cute slope to his nose on that side, this is what that kid was pushing on. Call me crazy but I thought we would have issues mostly with adults. Silly me.
I wish I would have been more on the ball and realized what was happening. I would have used a bit more oomph in my voice, I would have told Les about it right away, I would have done MORE for my kid.
Well, you can believe that I will be a bit more Mama Bear-ish from here on out.
Friday, October 22, 2010
Yesterday: Morning, Noon and Night
Morning: Liam fussy. Liam Bratty. Liam giving me a run for my money. Me not handling it right, or even in the neighborhood of right. Me loosing my temper. Raised voices. Crying. Just really a super-duper craptastic version of me being a parent. Evelyn caught in the middle. I knew the hundred and twelve reasons he has to be cranky and cantankerous and hard to deal with yet I couldn't stop considering ME and how hard this all was on ME.
Then the dark thoughts came. The why's. The what if's. The, am I right for this. Then the intense dislike of self kicks in.
A desperate phone call to my sister who, just by being her made me realize that things were ok and going to get better.
Afternoon: I read two blog entries that snap me back into place. One reminds me of how these kids ache and how very, very hard this transition is, even after being home over a year. One shows me pictures of children in an Orphanage deep in the heart of China and my son's very real and recent reality is thrust into the forefront of my heart and mind.
Night: Bedtime for Bonzo. The days trials and tribs a bit behind us. A quick diaper change and the slipping on of his best rocket pj's. I make the move to put him into bed and he grasps frantically at me. He makes tight little fists full of my sweatshirt and hangs on for dear life. His breathing is rapid and shallow. His expression is deep and dark but eerily blank. I see this and hug him as hard as I can and still allow for breath to pass. We sit there, in the dark together and we hold each other silently in the dim light of his nightlight. Each time I attempt to relax my hold, his breathing increases and he hugs tighter than I thought possible.
He leans back a little and he is looking at me. Deep dark pools of raw, inexpressible emotion ripping through him, causing these little huffs of breath.
As I hold my son I realize how very insignificant and short his time with us must seem. I open my heart for the first time and truly let myself feel that pain that I have been holding at arm's length. I see that he still feels alone and lost. And I cry for him. I cry because he can't or won't.
I hold my dear little boy and I re-state my pact with him; I promise to never leave him. I tell him that he has finally landed. He is home. I hope my arms and heart beat could relay what my words could not.
Love. Love. Love. Forever love.
Eventually he leans back and nods his head at me. One little nod and a gesture for the crib. So I lay him down and I rub his face and I watch him drift off to sleep.
I walked out of his room and I was grateful that even though I mess up and yell and blow my stack, at least he thinks I am good enough to hold him during those dark moments.
Then the dark thoughts came. The why's. The what if's. The, am I right for this. Then the intense dislike of self kicks in.
A desperate phone call to my sister who, just by being her made me realize that things were ok and going to get better.
Afternoon: I read two blog entries that snap me back into place. One reminds me of how these kids ache and how very, very hard this transition is, even after being home over a year. One shows me pictures of children in an Orphanage deep in the heart of China and my son's very real and recent reality is thrust into the forefront of my heart and mind.
Night: Bedtime for Bonzo. The days trials and tribs a bit behind us. A quick diaper change and the slipping on of his best rocket pj's. I make the move to put him into bed and he grasps frantically at me. He makes tight little fists full of my sweatshirt and hangs on for dear life. His breathing is rapid and shallow. His expression is deep and dark but eerily blank. I see this and hug him as hard as I can and still allow for breath to pass. We sit there, in the dark together and we hold each other silently in the dim light of his nightlight. Each time I attempt to relax my hold, his breathing increases and he hugs tighter than I thought possible.
He leans back a little and he is looking at me. Deep dark pools of raw, inexpressible emotion ripping through him, causing these little huffs of breath.
As I hold my son I realize how very insignificant and short his time with us must seem. I open my heart for the first time and truly let myself feel that pain that I have been holding at arm's length. I see that he still feels alone and lost. And I cry for him. I cry because he can't or won't.
I hold my dear little boy and I re-state my pact with him; I promise to never leave him. I tell him that he has finally landed. He is home. I hope my arms and heart beat could relay what my words could not.
Love. Love. Love. Forever love.
Eventually he leans back and nods his head at me. One little nod and a gesture for the crib. So I lay him down and I rub his face and I watch him drift off to sleep.
I walked out of his room and I was grateful that even though I mess up and yell and blow my stack, at least he thinks I am good enough to hold him during those dark moments.
Lurve
I bought a new mascara. It does loverly things to my lashes, yes it does.
In the words (kind of ) of Johnny Cash, "I always wanted me some that were long and black".
Oh 80's lashes how I have missed you.
p.s. Did you know that it was nearly impossible to take a picture of your own lashes?
In the words (kind of ) of Johnny Cash, "I always wanted me some that were long and black".
Oh 80's lashes how I have missed you.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
That Kind of Person
Let me tell you a story about my Mom.
Once when I was in elementary school, I can not remember what grade exactly but it must have been third or fourth, and we had a field trip. My Mom volunteered to be a parent escort, and this was a huge thing because my Mom is shy, well, she was much more shy back then.
The trip was to a local "period farm"- you know the kind; candle dipping, costumes and the like.
Now we had a little girl in our class and she was bullied. Bullied I tell you. A total outcast. A person of social danger. I have no idea why, in my memory she doesn't stand out in any particular way. She was just the target. While I never took part in any of the bullying, I never stood up for her either. I never tried to be her friend, I was too afraid.
On this field trip, this rare display of my Mom coming out of her shell, she SAW this girl. And she left my side to be with her. My Mom let me go off and play with my friends and SHE walked and talked with the Danger Girl. I remember someone asking me why my Mom was talking to HER and I didn't know, but right then I wanted it to stop.
I walked up to my Mom and asked her why she was talking to THAT girl, I remember the little girl just turned and walked away. My Mom looked down at me and very gently said, "because she needs a friend". I stood there and realized that my Mom was right and I said, "Yes, nobody plays with her and they are mean to her".
My Mom told me that she knew this, and then she talked to me about being nice, about not letting other people tell you what to do and how to act. My Mom stood there in the bright autumn sunshine and told me things about her school experiences and how much they hurt. My Mom laid her heart open to me, giving me the chance to step up and be better than I was.
I listened and then I ran off to be with my friends.
My Mom never said another word to me. As a matter of fact we have never discussed this, I wonder if she even remembers.
I still have this memory of my Mom walking along beside that girl. I have this memory of the look on her sweet little face. How happy my Mom made her.
While my Mom's lesson didn't take hold on that day, I have never in my life stood aside again and let someone be bullied. It gets me into trouble quite often actually but, every time I try to turn away, I see that little girl and my mom walking together in my mind. I open my mouth and use my God given talent for sass and attitude and I take a stand.
Not as graceful and loving as my mom, but some things do get lost in translation.
My mom is THAT kind of person. The best kind.
Once when I was in elementary school, I can not remember what grade exactly but it must have been third or fourth, and we had a field trip. My Mom volunteered to be a parent escort, and this was a huge thing because my Mom is shy, well, she was much more shy back then.
The trip was to a local "period farm"- you know the kind; candle dipping, costumes and the like.
Now we had a little girl in our class and she was bullied. Bullied I tell you. A total outcast. A person of social danger. I have no idea why, in my memory she doesn't stand out in any particular way. She was just the target. While I never took part in any of the bullying, I never stood up for her either. I never tried to be her friend, I was too afraid.
On this field trip, this rare display of my Mom coming out of her shell, she SAW this girl. And she left my side to be with her. My Mom let me go off and play with my friends and SHE walked and talked with the Danger Girl. I remember someone asking me why my Mom was talking to HER and I didn't know, but right then I wanted it to stop.
I walked up to my Mom and asked her why she was talking to THAT girl, I remember the little girl just turned and walked away. My Mom looked down at me and very gently said, "because she needs a friend". I stood there and realized that my Mom was right and I said, "Yes, nobody plays with her and they are mean to her".
My Mom told me that she knew this, and then she talked to me about being nice, about not letting other people tell you what to do and how to act. My Mom stood there in the bright autumn sunshine and told me things about her school experiences and how much they hurt. My Mom laid her heart open to me, giving me the chance to step up and be better than I was.
I listened and then I ran off to be with my friends.
My Mom never said another word to me. As a matter of fact we have never discussed this, I wonder if she even remembers.
I still have this memory of my Mom walking along beside that girl. I have this memory of the look on her sweet little face. How happy my Mom made her.
While my Mom's lesson didn't take hold on that day, I have never in my life stood aside again and let someone be bullied. It gets me into trouble quite often actually but, every time I try to turn away, I see that little girl and my mom walking together in my mind. I open my mouth and use my God given talent for sass and attitude and I take a stand.
Not as graceful and loving as my mom, but some things do get lost in translation.
My mom is THAT kind of person. The best kind.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
In No Particular Order
These are the things on my mind today:
- Insurance issues are huge and can eat up every ounce of you.
- I love my cat. It's weird how much I love this strange animal.
- My daughter is truly the single best person that I have ever known but, she can still drive me ape #%&* in 5 seconds flat if she has the mind to.
- I can not tolerate whining. My son whines.
- I am trying not to pray for specific things but today I am fervently praying for one very specific thing.
- That thing I am praying for is Liam. I am worried that I see a fistula in his mouth and I just don't want this little boy to have any complication, let alone one that will mean another surgery 9 months down the road. So I am praying for healing and a small palate miracle.
- After palate repair, when you can't brush their teeth, when everything is healing, these kids get some pretty serious dragon breath kicking.
- The bad breath doesn't stop me from kissing him about 600 times a day.
- Adoption may be hard and you may find yourself in a place that you don't like but, time marches on and things begin to fall into place and make sense. You find a new rhythm, you allow for changes, you "become".
- One good day does not mean that you are in the clear. It means that you had a good day. Eventually the good days will begin to outnumber the bad ones.
- I need to cut myself some serious slack and stop expecting perfection and grace when I just need to survive sometimes.
- I do not love my kids unequally, I know one better than I know the other one.
- After nearly 17 years of marriage I am still hopelessly and madly in love with Leslie.
- Taking your child to the hospital is a hellish experience and you leave shattered and bruised and sick at your stomach.
- Just because someone's badge says "R.N." it doesn't mean that they know what they are doing.
- The thing you will regret most is not speaking up and fighting for your kid. Not saying "no" when your gut says that you should.
- The sight of two kids running and playing in those soft pj's with feet is the cutest thing in the world.
- I can not even begin to imagine life without Liam here with us.
- I seriously need to stop buying those Reese PB pumpkins, I eat them for breakfast and lunch and then wonder why I am grumpy around 3 pm. But they are sooooo good.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
No Shirt, No Shoes, No Service
Today I left for my bi-monthly grocery store marathon. My departure left Papa in charge. Interesting things can happen when Papa's in charge. Like the time he dressed Ev and had her overalls on backwards.
Tonight, apparently they were all playing in the back and almost forgot about Gymnastics and had to jump in the car to hurry and get there. The story has it that about half way to Gymnastics Ev says, "Ummm Papa? We forgot Liam's shoes!"
That's right that boy played out in the back for over an hour with no shoes on and no one noticed. He didn't complain. Les didn't notice. Ev didn't notice. THEN they loaded up into the car and left the premises, all without putting shoes on my son.
That's the sort of thing that happens when Papa runs the show.
I love that man.
Tonight, apparently they were all playing in the back and almost forgot about Gymnastics and had to jump in the car to hurry and get there. The story has it that about half way to Gymnastics Ev says, "Ummm Papa? We forgot Liam's shoes!"
That's right that boy played out in the back for over an hour with no shoes on and no one noticed. He didn't complain. Les didn't notice. Ev didn't notice. THEN they loaded up into the car and left the premises, all without putting shoes on my son.
That's the sort of thing that happens when Papa runs the show.
I love that man.
Advice from The Aunts
I was watching Dr. Who last night and that got me to thinking about mascara and my five Aunts. What? That's not a logical jump?
Let me 'splain. In the show the female lead has these great 80's flavored lashes, I mean LOTS of mascara. I can't help it, I love, adore mascara.
So then I started thinking about make-up and who taught me to wear it and that opened up a whole pile of childhood memories that rarely see the light of day.
You see my Mom was one of 9 kids. 6 girls and 3 boys. This means that as a child I had many female role models, teachers and disseminators of information. I could pick and chose the parts that I wanted and I can honestly say it was fun and great and oh so interesting.
Aunt Valerie would say, "If you want good black lashes, you put your mascara on and let it dry and then do it again and then a third time for a real good look". My Aunt Tanya would say, "One coat of mascara is enough unless you want to look like a hussy". Aunt Gina would show me the prettiest shades of shimmery blue and green eye shadow: Valerie and Tanya would roll their eyes and inform me that only "fast girls" wore those shades and I said Aunt Gina wears them and they just looked at me ( I have finally figured out what they were getting at but, to be fair Gina was no "faster" than any of them). Each Aunt down the line had advice and her way of doing things and each one thought the others were wrong.
It was the same with dancing and clothes, and even music. Five Aunts. Five views expressed.
Gina.
Tanya.
Valerie.
Kim.
Mickey.
I have taken something from each one of them.
I have Val's love of mascara.
I like to dance like Mickey.
I try to live like Tanya.
I learned to love dolls from Kim.
And always, when I want to be sexy and spunky, I think, "What would Gina do?"
You know what? I even have an illicit stash of green and blue eye shadow and I just told Ev, " These are the colors you wear when you want to show the world that you don't particularly care about what they think".
That's it then, what I learned. Just be yourself, it's all the right thing. If you like it and it feels good to you, then it's ok. There is only me to teach this to Ev, well me and my sister. How can the two of us get the job done? Heck we don't even have 8 track tapes of the Bee Gees or high heeled, brown leather, zip up, knee high boots.
Let me 'splain. In the show the female lead has these great 80's flavored lashes, I mean LOTS of mascara. I can't help it, I love, adore mascara.
So then I started thinking about make-up and who taught me to wear it and that opened up a whole pile of childhood memories that rarely see the light of day.
You see my Mom was one of 9 kids. 6 girls and 3 boys. This means that as a child I had many female role models, teachers and disseminators of information. I could pick and chose the parts that I wanted and I can honestly say it was fun and great and oh so interesting.
Aunt Valerie would say, "If you want good black lashes, you put your mascara on and let it dry and then do it again and then a third time for a real good look". My Aunt Tanya would say, "One coat of mascara is enough unless you want to look like a hussy". Aunt Gina would show me the prettiest shades of shimmery blue and green eye shadow: Valerie and Tanya would roll their eyes and inform me that only "fast girls" wore those shades and I said Aunt Gina wears them and they just looked at me ( I have finally figured out what they were getting at but, to be fair Gina was no "faster" than any of them). Each Aunt down the line had advice and her way of doing things and each one thought the others were wrong.
It was the same with dancing and clothes, and even music. Five Aunts. Five views expressed.
Gina.
Tanya.
Valerie.
Kim.
Mickey.
I have taken something from each one of them.
I have Val's love of mascara.
I like to dance like Mickey.
I try to live like Tanya.
I learned to love dolls from Kim.
And always, when I want to be sexy and spunky, I think, "What would Gina do?"
You know what? I even have an illicit stash of green and blue eye shadow and I just told Ev, " These are the colors you wear when you want to show the world that you don't particularly care about what they think".
That's it then, what I learned. Just be yourself, it's all the right thing. If you like it and it feels good to you, then it's ok. There is only me to teach this to Ev, well me and my sister. How can the two of us get the job done? Heck we don't even have 8 track tapes of the Bee Gees or high heeled, brown leather, zip up, knee high boots.
Monday, October 18, 2010
The Upside to Palatoplasty
Let us all ask ourselves, "What is the upside to palatoplasty as viewed by a 2 year old?" Let's be honest there aren't many, but the one thing that I can think of that has given Liam immediate returns is, well, ice cream.
For the first time in his life Liam was able to eat AND enjoy ice cream. He was very diligent about the experience, he sat as patiently as he could, waiting for the next bite of cold, creamy deliciousness to be delivered. He looked like he was at a job as opposed to doing something completely enjoyable. The smile at then end was priceless (sadly I didn't manage to capture that on film).
Say what you want about better speech and all of those long term advantages.
Liam had ice cream and that's good enough for us!
Ev is what you might call a connoisseur of the frozen treats.
For the first time in his life Liam was able to eat AND enjoy ice cream. He was very diligent about the experience, he sat as patiently as he could, waiting for the next bite of cold, creamy deliciousness to be delivered. He looked like he was at a job as opposed to doing something completely enjoyable. The smile at then end was priceless (sadly I didn't manage to capture that on film).
Say what you want about better speech and all of those long term advantages.
Liam had ice cream and that's good enough for us!
And just because he's a handsome devil.....
Saturday, October 16, 2010
In the Trenches
Here we are in the middle of recovery. Things are going as well as can be expected. Liam has hit that phase of feeling better but not quite all better so he defaults to grumpy. That's ok, if my mouth were torn up like his, I would grump too.
So far the hardest part is keeping him fed. A soft/pureed diet means that there can be no "on the fly" meals, I must be prepared. So between the need for preparation and his complete lack of desire for anything that he is allowed to eat, it can be tricky when he gets a rumbly in his tumbly.
The second hardest part is the need for the arm restraints during sleep. He hates them. He is a dynamic sleeper, like his sister, so his restricted ability to thrash leaves him bitter and whiney. I can hear him all night, trying to move then whimpering in frustration, I feel so bad for him. I can't take the chance that he won't mess with his mouth though, what if it itched and in his sleep he reached in and..... nope. Can't trust him, it's not worth it.
That's about where we are.
In other news Ev is home after our longest separation ever. I missed her dearly and I am so relieved to ahve her home but man, did I forget how much she talks!
So far the hardest part is keeping him fed. A soft/pureed diet means that there can be no "on the fly" meals, I must be prepared. So between the need for preparation and his complete lack of desire for anything that he is allowed to eat, it can be tricky when he gets a rumbly in his tumbly.
The second hardest part is the need for the arm restraints during sleep. He hates them. He is a dynamic sleeper, like his sister, so his restricted ability to thrash leaves him bitter and whiney. I can hear him all night, trying to move then whimpering in frustration, I feel so bad for him. I can't take the chance that he won't mess with his mouth though, what if it itched and in his sleep he reached in and..... nope. Can't trust him, it's not worth it.
That's about where we are.
In other news Ev is home after our longest separation ever. I missed her dearly and I am so relieved to ahve her home but man, did I forget how much she talks!
Thursday, October 14, 2010
All's Well That End's Well
I am sitting at the computer desk with the cutest apple dumpling of a boy on my lap. We are home and clunking along. He is not quite himself yet so I am really enjoying lots of cuddle and lap time with him. Ev is still at Smokewood and having a blast and keeping everyone hopping from what I can tell.
What to say about this procedure and experience? The procedure was brutal but necessary. The Doctor was/is pleasant and capable. I am a bit under impressed by "A Premiere Children's Hospital".
Personally this is very difficult. I worked as a nurse for many years, so I expected to be more tough, more on the ball, more ready. I guess you can't really be professional and tough when it's your own baby laying there with a swollen and bloody face.
Liam is fair to middlin' I would say. He is all soft edges and slow movements and quiet play, I know the Codeine may have something to do with that, and that's ok because I feel that lots of rest and quiet is just what he needs now. His pain is under very good control with the regular Tylenol in the day time and the Super Tylenol at night. He doesn't put his hands or anything near his mouth so we are only using the arm restraints at night. He is ok with the soft diet for now but I expect him to get more mad about that as he starts feeling better.
That's it for now as we have some serious cuddling to go do.
This was just out of the recovery room.
This was the next morning.
This is him this morning. Note the lovely "stretch marks" at the corners of his mouth: ignore the snot and dried blood.
What to say about this procedure and experience? The procedure was brutal but necessary. The Doctor was/is pleasant and capable. I am a bit under impressed by "A Premiere Children's Hospital".
Personally this is very difficult. I worked as a nurse for many years, so I expected to be more tough, more on the ball, more ready. I guess you can't really be professional and tough when it's your own baby laying there with a swollen and bloody face.
Liam is fair to middlin' I would say. He is all soft edges and slow movements and quiet play, I know the Codeine may have something to do with that, and that's ok because I feel that lots of rest and quiet is just what he needs now. His pain is under very good control with the regular Tylenol in the day time and the Super Tylenol at night. He doesn't put his hands or anything near his mouth so we are only using the arm restraints at night. He is ok with the soft diet for now but I expect him to get more mad about that as he starts feeling better.
That's it for now as we have some serious cuddling to go do.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Update From Room 616
Liam did well today. The Doc was running late due to a complicatin in the previous case so, our 12:15 start was pushed back to 3:45. Once things started rolling I was ok, Liam has been a trooper all day.
He is swollen now and a bit bloody but ok. He is mad at all of the medical stuff and rolls about complaining before he goes back to sleep a bit.
Today was hard but necessary. Today was the first big step into speech.
Today I learned how awful it can be on the other side of the Nurse's Station.
He is swollen now and a bit bloody but ok. He is mad at all of the medical stuff and rolls about complaining before he goes back to sleep a bit.
Today was hard but necessary. Today was the first big step into speech.
Today I learned how awful it can be on the other side of the Nurse's Station.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Some Days
Some days are easier than others. Some days explode into your head and leave you laying stunned and confused. Some days sneak up on you leaving you with a sense of wonder at the sheer beauty of them.
Some days start rough an end sweet. Some days start easy and end badly.
Some days, you spend the morning playing with your son, knowing that your daughter is off having a rare day with her Grandpa.
Some days, every little thing seems just right and almost too good to bear.
Some days, you wait anxiously for your husband of 16 years to walk in from work just so you can kiss him hello and feel his stubble against your cheek and smell the lake on him and know that in any given day, he is there, right there with you.
Some days I think we might actually make it.
Some days start rough an end sweet. Some days start easy and end badly.
Some days, you spend the morning playing with your son, knowing that your daughter is off having a rare day with her Grandpa.
Some days, every little thing seems just right and almost too good to bear.
Some days, you wait anxiously for your husband of 16 years to walk in from work just so you can kiss him hello and feel his stubble against your cheek and smell the lake on him and know that in any given day, he is there, right there with you.
Some days I think we might actually make it.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Weekend
Yesterday we performed a monumental feat that included getting us all fed and out of the house before noon. We headed out to the zoo and it was just the perfect day for it. Evelyn loves the zoo, I know all kids love the zoo but she REALLY loves the zoo. Liam was more interested in non-animal things but he did notice the seals and let out a giggle when a wolf trotted by.The evening was finished out by a rare but wierdly tasty meal from the Golden Arches. Mama left and went out to a grown up party while Liam went to bed and Ev and Papa had a little fire in the back.
Today we lazied about until Liam was nearing panic levels of "oh my where is breakfast anyway" and now we are waiting for Papa to have a batch of fresh and piping hot pancakes ready. Then we will play outside and wait for The Grandparents to arrive for a visit.
All in all a pretty good time.
Some pics from the zoo:
Today we lazied about until Liam was nearing panic levels of "oh my where is breakfast anyway" and now we are waiting for Papa to have a batch of fresh and piping hot pancakes ready. Then we will play outside and wait for The Grandparents to arrive for a visit.
All in all a pretty good time.
Some pics from the zoo:
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Six Days
I am frightened and nervous. I wish that we could opt out of this but, we can't, it's why he's here after all. He's here for us to take care of him and love him and make sure that he can get a solid foothold into this world and a start, on what I am sure, will be a bright future. Please don't waste time on my nerves, just pray for this little guy.
Liam has been through so much already and all of it on his own. This time we will be there, fretting and worrying and fighting for him. We will be there loving him. He has us and we have him. We will do this and he will come out of it as ready to talk as we can get him.
This surgery is a big scary thing but it is needed and it is a good thing.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Baby Steps
Amidst all of the raging storms in my life right now, I have, surprisingly found a bit of peace and acceptance. For the first time in my life, I have a clear picture of how detrimental my constant worrying can be, not just to me, but, to everyone around me (think four mile radius).
So I let go. I prayed, not for these issues to be magically resolved. I prayed that I would be able to let go of the bad stuff, and hold on to what was good and precious. I prayed that I would find the strength to turn a corner. I waited and I listened and for the first time in 16 years, I let myself hear God in my husband's words.
This hasn't been easy for me. In fact, for the first 24 hours, it was a constant struggle to turn off the worry, to stop carrying the stress of outside forces into the intimate workings of our family. I have been given gentle reminders along the way. I have realized that not all things can be fixed in the blink of an eye.
The stress is still there, throbbing underneath but, I am managing it. Maybe I will get better at this as the days go on.
That's all that I am expecting of myself right now, baby steps. It feels ok.
So I let go. I prayed, not for these issues to be magically resolved. I prayed that I would be able to let go of the bad stuff, and hold on to what was good and precious. I prayed that I would find the strength to turn a corner. I waited and I listened and for the first time in 16 years, I let myself hear God in my husband's words.
This hasn't been easy for me. In fact, for the first 24 hours, it was a constant struggle to turn off the worry, to stop carrying the stress of outside forces into the intimate workings of our family. I have been given gentle reminders along the way. I have realized that not all things can be fixed in the blink of an eye.
The stress is still there, throbbing underneath but, I am managing it. Maybe I will get better at this as the days go on.
That's all that I am expecting of myself right now, baby steps. It feels ok.
Monday, October 4, 2010
REAL Adoption
Last week Ev and I headed out for a good, old fashioned Girl's Day Out. Part of what we did was seeing a movie at the dollar theater. We saw Despicable Me and, while it was completely enjoyable on many levels, it was touch and go there for a bit.
There is an adoption theme in the movie and it makes me wonder, when can people get this right?
Has anyone else seen this movie?
I don't think I am being too sensitive here. There were just things that I did not like and then, all of the sudden I was able to understand how wrong adoption can be, if we, as adoptive parents aren't careful.
There were these 3 sisters in the movie and they were "orphans" and they lived in a girls' home. They were forced to walk the streets selling cookies to earn their keep. When the one girl showed her quirky personality, the house mother said, " you know that no one will ever adopt you right?". Then the main character decides to adopt the girls so he can use them to further his evil plan, he needs them for his own selfish reasons and just picks them up. When he is done with them, even though he is starting to feel for them, he gives them back, he un- adopts them. They are heart broken and return to the girl's home where they are expected to re-assume their life there. But wait! Now he misses them and goes to get them back and ultimately has to save them from his nemesis. The movie ends with the main character kissing the girls's good night for the first time.
I understand why this movie was written the way it was. There was a plot they had to get through and they just did it in the easiest way possible. There was never any mention of the birth parents or their fate or why these girls are on their own. The girls were picked up, returned, at everyone else's whim. It was truly an awful presentation on adoption.
I worried the whole movie about what Ev was thinking. I didn't want to get up and leave for fear of turning it into this huge issue. After the movie I tried in a gentle way to talk to Ev about it. We talked about the funny things, the yellow dudes, the moon shrinkage. Eventually I said " I did enjoy the movie but I wish they had done a better job talking about adoption" Ev replied "Oh like when he gave the girls back?" I told her yes, that was mostly the thing I was talking about. Her response was " Mama it's just a movie, and not even a REAL movie, just a silly movie about silly things, it's not like they were talking about REAL adoption."
And then we went on with the day, I let it go because she could. I realized we must be getting something right. Or she is.
There is an adoption theme in the movie and it makes me wonder, when can people get this right?
Has anyone else seen this movie?
I don't think I am being too sensitive here. There were just things that I did not like and then, all of the sudden I was able to understand how wrong adoption can be, if we, as adoptive parents aren't careful.
There were these 3 sisters in the movie and they were "orphans" and they lived in a girls' home. They were forced to walk the streets selling cookies to earn their keep. When the one girl showed her quirky personality, the house mother said, " you know that no one will ever adopt you right?". Then the main character decides to adopt the girls so he can use them to further his evil plan, he needs them for his own selfish reasons and just picks them up. When he is done with them, even though he is starting to feel for them, he gives them back, he un- adopts them. They are heart broken and return to the girl's home where they are expected to re-assume their life there. But wait! Now he misses them and goes to get them back and ultimately has to save them from his nemesis. The movie ends with the main character kissing the girls's good night for the first time.
I understand why this movie was written the way it was. There was a plot they had to get through and they just did it in the easiest way possible. There was never any mention of the birth parents or their fate or why these girls are on their own. The girls were picked up, returned, at everyone else's whim. It was truly an awful presentation on adoption.
I worried the whole movie about what Ev was thinking. I didn't want to get up and leave for fear of turning it into this huge issue. After the movie I tried in a gentle way to talk to Ev about it. We talked about the funny things, the yellow dudes, the moon shrinkage. Eventually I said " I did enjoy the movie but I wish they had done a better job talking about adoption" Ev replied "Oh like when he gave the girls back?" I told her yes, that was mostly the thing I was talking about. Her response was " Mama it's just a movie, and not even a REAL movie, just a silly movie about silly things, it's not like they were talking about REAL adoption."
And then we went on with the day, I let it go because she could. I realized we must be getting something right. Or she is.
Friday, October 1, 2010
Nuclear Reactiveness
Have you ever had one of those days that you wish you could just erase from the books? I am not even remotely interested in a do-over as I am pretty sure it would all shake out the same way.
I am basically running on fumes here. Not much left over emotionally to help me handle things with a level head, no room to try and phrase things nicely and intelligently. What this means is that I have resorted to my old ways, essentially being a totally reactive, high strung, psycho.
You can deduce further, that alot of this has to do with my particular flavor of Mothering today. Oh and how I acted so abrasive that I am pretty sure our Insurance Company permanently flagged our account, as in " Do not help this crazy person, she cusses alot and will tear you a new one at the slightest provocation."
Sigh.
Really I am saying all of this to say that I have found myself in a pretty rocky place with Ev. She has alot going on anyway and to have her Sane and Loving Mother replaced with this Waspish Nightmare is maybe the worst of it all. We have been facing some pretty serious behavioral issues with her and it has taken its toll. I have tried to be patient and understanding but I only have so many reserves and those have been chewed through.
Today was another bad day at homeschooling, one in a long line of them. Outright rebellion and refusal to do the simplest thing. It's even worse because she will turn on a dime, all lightness and air one minute and the next she is granite and malfeasance. My daughter is sweet as pie usually but she can truly be bratty when she feels the need.
I know that this is all normal and it's a stage. I am just saying, holy mackerel, it was a tough day--made worse by my lack of a cool head under fire.
Tonight she has turned on the juice. You see, she has lost a total of 7 days of privilege and it's killing her. She gets no video games, early bedtimes, no special treats and no movies. Does that sound harsh? Believe me she lost it all, one item and one day at a time. It was awful.
I feel awful.
She knows I feel awful, so she began the Psych Warfare this evening.
"Mama do you feel bad?"
"Mama don't you want to change it to maybe 5 days?"
"America is stupid"
"I will only read Hop on Pop and Green Eggs and Ham. My whole life."
"Every day of my life until I am a teenager is going to be awful."
"This is ridiculous; someone should know about this."
"Did you mean those chocolate chip cookies we just baked?"
Right before bedtime, she ran upstairs all full of glee and came back down all breathless and whispery. It seems that she wanted me to know that she had put out 2 bedtime surprises for her Papa but not for me, as her anger thermos was "spilling out". Things got worse when Les wouldn't let her get away with that, he stuck up for me and told her that when she treats one of us bad, she treats us both bad.
Let me just say that bedtime this evening for her was less than fun.
The flash point today was when I TOLD her that we were going to read a certain book for her reading, she was not included in the decision, so she lost her mind. This girl's need to control things around her is almost suffocating at times.
Maybe tomorrow we can get it better.
I am trying--we all are trying--but these are truly the hardest days that I have ever lived. I am grasping so desperately for that new normal, for the version of myself that I like the most, but it all just seems so out of reach right now.
I am basically running on fumes here. Not much left over emotionally to help me handle things with a level head, no room to try and phrase things nicely and intelligently. What this means is that I have resorted to my old ways, essentially being a totally reactive, high strung, psycho.
You can deduce further, that alot of this has to do with my particular flavor of Mothering today. Oh and how I acted so abrasive that I am pretty sure our Insurance Company permanently flagged our account, as in " Do not help this crazy person, she cusses alot and will tear you a new one at the slightest provocation."
Sigh.
Really I am saying all of this to say that I have found myself in a pretty rocky place with Ev. She has alot going on anyway and to have her Sane and Loving Mother replaced with this Waspish Nightmare is maybe the worst of it all. We have been facing some pretty serious behavioral issues with her and it has taken its toll. I have tried to be patient and understanding but I only have so many reserves and those have been chewed through.
Today was another bad day at homeschooling, one in a long line of them. Outright rebellion and refusal to do the simplest thing. It's even worse because she will turn on a dime, all lightness and air one minute and the next she is granite and malfeasance. My daughter is sweet as pie usually but she can truly be bratty when she feels the need.
I know that this is all normal and it's a stage. I am just saying, holy mackerel, it was a tough day--made worse by my lack of a cool head under fire.
Tonight she has turned on the juice. You see, she has lost a total of 7 days of privilege and it's killing her. She gets no video games, early bedtimes, no special treats and no movies. Does that sound harsh? Believe me she lost it all, one item and one day at a time. It was awful.
I feel awful.
She knows I feel awful, so she began the Psych Warfare this evening.
"Mama do you feel bad?"
"Mama don't you want to change it to maybe 5 days?"
"America is stupid"
"I will only read Hop on Pop and Green Eggs and Ham. My whole life."
"Every day of my life until I am a teenager is going to be awful."
"This is ridiculous; someone should know about this."
"Did you mean those chocolate chip cookies we just baked?"
Right before bedtime, she ran upstairs all full of glee and came back down all breathless and whispery. It seems that she wanted me to know that she had put out 2 bedtime surprises for her Papa but not for me, as her anger thermos was "spilling out". Things got worse when Les wouldn't let her get away with that, he stuck up for me and told her that when she treats one of us bad, she treats us both bad.
Let me just say that bedtime this evening for her was less than fun.
The flash point today was when I TOLD her that we were going to read a certain book for her reading, she was not included in the decision, so she lost her mind. This girl's need to control things around her is almost suffocating at times.
Maybe tomorrow we can get it better.
I am trying--we all are trying--but these are truly the hardest days that I have ever lived. I am grasping so desperately for that new normal, for the version of myself that I like the most, but it all just seems so out of reach right now.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
That's Why She's the Big Sister
Evelyn: " Mama? Did I do the right thing today when Liam was being bad in my room and I threw him out and slammed the door?" (she didn't even wait for me to respond and just kept going) " I like slamming the door on him because he cries and when he cries I know he's thinking about the way he acted."
She did indeed toss him out, he was physically dragged from her room, dumped on the hall floor and then she slammed her door. Twice. In his face.
He did cry, heart wrenching sobs that I could barely soothe.
But? It WAS kind of funny too.
I mean he shouldn't keep touching her cd's. Right? She's told him. "Alot of times a day for alot of days in a row now. Like googleplex times!"
Things are improving though. Last week when he got tossed out there were three or four doors slams, with his sippy cup, his green stuffed dinosaur and his socks being tossed out on top of him in between slams. Also you could hear this audible "humph!" with each slam. The crime last week was touching her books and dragging more than 2 off at a time.
I guess the Honeymoon is over.
Nothing left to do but laugh, because these two are a circus act, even when emotions are running high.
Let me tell you. After he's done crying? He walks up to her door and scratches on it like a dog until she lets him in, reluctantly. And when he sees that she is still aggravated? He laughs.
Personally I think he orchestrates the whole thing from start to finish.
Can he help it if she's such an easy target? No he can not.
Can she help it if she has control issues? No she can not.
Can I help it if I laugh? No I can not.
She did indeed toss him out, he was physically dragged from her room, dumped on the hall floor and then she slammed her door. Twice. In his face.
He did cry, heart wrenching sobs that I could barely soothe.
But? It WAS kind of funny too.
I mean he shouldn't keep touching her cd's. Right? She's told him. "Alot of times a day for alot of days in a row now. Like googleplex times!"
Things are improving though. Last week when he got tossed out there were three or four doors slams, with his sippy cup, his green stuffed dinosaur and his socks being tossed out on top of him in between slams. Also you could hear this audible "humph!" with each slam. The crime last week was touching her books and dragging more than 2 off at a time.
I guess the Honeymoon is over.
Nothing left to do but laugh, because these two are a circus act, even when emotions are running high.
Let me tell you. After he's done crying? He walks up to her door and scratches on it like a dog until she lets him in, reluctantly. And when he sees that she is still aggravated? He laughs.
Personally I think he orchestrates the whole thing from start to finish.
Can he help it if she's such an easy target? No he can not.
Can she help it if she has control issues? No she can not.
Can I help it if I laugh? No I can not.
Waaaa! Waaaa! Waaaa!
Mama is sick with a bad cold. Like the kind of cold that used to kill people- shoot this one may do me in. I just keep getting worse and worse.
Papa is on duty. That means that there is only me and this virus and the kids in the house-for 24 hours. Lord help us all.
Liam has surgery tomorrow. Ev needs to be schooled. Everyone needs to eat.
I want to claw my face off. The kids are bored.
The cat is bored and out of tuna.
The house is a wreck.
I think I will just go sit on the couch and mouth breathe and hope for a coma.
If the coma doesn't happen, I guess I will make lunch and feel sorry for myself for having to do it.
Come on coma!
Papa is on duty. That means that there is only me and this virus and the kids in the house-for 24 hours. Lord help us all.
Liam has surgery tomorrow. Ev needs to be schooled. Everyone needs to eat.
I want to claw my face off. The kids are bored.
The cat is bored and out of tuna.
The house is a wreck.
I think I will just go sit on the couch and mouth breathe and hope for a coma.
If the coma doesn't happen, I guess I will make lunch and feel sorry for myself for having to do it.
Come on coma!
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Lament
" I just can't figure out when my flying magic will come Mama. How long do you think it will take?"
Don't be too sad for her, she usually gets a conciliatory treat and a big hug and a "maybe tomorrow!"
I Heart Them
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Should We or Shouldn't We
Adopt, that is.
I have read things online recently that send chills of fear up my spine. I hear some people calling for a halt on International Adoption and I have to wonder why. Why do they not want this type of adoption?
I am not only an adoptive mother but, my husband and I adopted Internationally, so I have a little (cough cough) experience in this area. I look at my children and the love I have for them blossoms in my heart and fills me with warm gratitude for being able to care for them and love them and watch them grow.
I am not blind to the fact that our family came at a price.
A big price, and quite frankly, I am not the one who shoulders that pain- they are. They were taken from their country of origin. They will most likely never have answers to the whys and hows of their journey to us, actually a better way to say that is, our journey to them. Because it's true, they had NO CHOICE in the matter. I will never be able to give them a true sense of Chinese Culture, the only thing I could possibly do to breach the gap between their identities is to ensure that they learn the language.
I read the blogs and articles written by other adoptive parents and I learn about how these children hurt. I read about children not wanting to be addressed by their Chinese name, " because no one loved the girl with that name", I read about night terrors and the ever present longing for knowledge of why and who and how come. I remember the deep nearly wordless memories of orphanage life that would tumble out of Evelyn's mouth. I read about kids who remember overheard conversations of their birth families planning their abandonment. And every time I read these things, my heart lurches and jumps and stops and I ache for these children. They have lost so much and yet, so much is expected of them.
I have to look at my kids and other kids and I have to see that they hurt and that I will never be able to understand just how much. Does this pain of separation mean that they should be denied the opportunity to be ensconced in a home with people who are just trying to make the best of a very bad and painful situation?
I don't think so. Maybe that's too easy for me to say.
But I do know that even knowing what I know now, I would do it all over again.
I would adopt these two and 22 more if I could. Because International Adoption is, in my eyes, the best of a bad situation. It's what we have.
My two children are running madly about the house right now, singing nonsense songs and I can not begin to fathom the emptiness we would ALL feel if they were still in China. Yes, they would have their native culture but would they have someone to love them everyday? I can make a pretty good guess that someone in China did love these two, but for whatever the reasons ( too numerous to recount here), the ones that gave them life were unable to keep them. I didn't step in. I didn't save these kids. I needed them, they needed somebody to do something. And so, there was the bandaid of adoption.
I would love it if things in the world were different. I would dance with joy if birth mothers had more support and resources. I want that to happen -globally, but until it does, should we stop trying to give permanent homes to the children that are left in the world with no ties, no permanence?
No, I don't think so.
I would much rather be here to help these kids with the pain that they have.
I see these kids being adopted and I look at the families and I think 'ok good, now lets give them some love and empowerment"
I do realize that I am still sort of focused on what I want and that these kids really have no choice in the matter, they are left, they are adopted and never once can they say " I do not WANT this"
When we get to the end of this ride together, I guess I will hear from the horse's mouth about what my children would have preferred. Until now, we just have to go with what we have. And love and heal and try our very best for these kids.
So I say we should.
Yes!
Adopt.
I have read things online recently that send chills of fear up my spine. I hear some people calling for a halt on International Adoption and I have to wonder why. Why do they not want this type of adoption?
I am not only an adoptive mother but, my husband and I adopted Internationally, so I have a little (cough cough) experience in this area. I look at my children and the love I have for them blossoms in my heart and fills me with warm gratitude for being able to care for them and love them and watch them grow.
I am not blind to the fact that our family came at a price.
A big price, and quite frankly, I am not the one who shoulders that pain- they are. They were taken from their country of origin. They will most likely never have answers to the whys and hows of their journey to us, actually a better way to say that is, our journey to them. Because it's true, they had NO CHOICE in the matter. I will never be able to give them a true sense of Chinese Culture, the only thing I could possibly do to breach the gap between their identities is to ensure that they learn the language.
I read the blogs and articles written by other adoptive parents and I learn about how these children hurt. I read about children not wanting to be addressed by their Chinese name, " because no one loved the girl with that name", I read about night terrors and the ever present longing for knowledge of why and who and how come. I remember the deep nearly wordless memories of orphanage life that would tumble out of Evelyn's mouth. I read about kids who remember overheard conversations of their birth families planning their abandonment. And every time I read these things, my heart lurches and jumps and stops and I ache for these children. They have lost so much and yet, so much is expected of them.
I have to look at my kids and other kids and I have to see that they hurt and that I will never be able to understand just how much. Does this pain of separation mean that they should be denied the opportunity to be ensconced in a home with people who are just trying to make the best of a very bad and painful situation?
I don't think so. Maybe that's too easy for me to say.
But I do know that even knowing what I know now, I would do it all over again.
I would adopt these two and 22 more if I could. Because International Adoption is, in my eyes, the best of a bad situation. It's what we have.
My two children are running madly about the house right now, singing nonsense songs and I can not begin to fathom the emptiness we would ALL feel if they were still in China. Yes, they would have their native culture but would they have someone to love them everyday? I can make a pretty good guess that someone in China did love these two, but for whatever the reasons ( too numerous to recount here), the ones that gave them life were unable to keep them. I didn't step in. I didn't save these kids. I needed them, they needed somebody to do something. And so, there was the bandaid of adoption.
I would love it if things in the world were different. I would dance with joy if birth mothers had more support and resources. I want that to happen -globally, but until it does, should we stop trying to give permanent homes to the children that are left in the world with no ties, no permanence?
No, I don't think so.
I would much rather be here to help these kids with the pain that they have.
I see these kids being adopted and I look at the families and I think 'ok good, now lets give them some love and empowerment"
I do realize that I am still sort of focused on what I want and that these kids really have no choice in the matter, they are left, they are adopted and never once can they say " I do not WANT this"
When we get to the end of this ride together, I guess I will hear from the horse's mouth about what my children would have preferred. Until now, we just have to go with what we have. And love and heal and try our very best for these kids.
So I say we should.
Yes!
Adopt.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Backyard Hooligans
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Deep
Ev has always been the kind of kid that's easy to underestimate. She has that diminutive body, that perfect face and this talk, talkitty , talk kind of personality. You can't call her bubbly, because she has a factory default setting of "stubborn to the nth degree" and really, the things she talks about aren't really shallow. It's just that there's all of this chatter and attention to outward details.
I am her mother and I kind of forget how deep she really is.
Then you have the way she watches movies, very Asberger's in fact. She will get caught up on the detail of a doorframe or something and ask incessantly about it while the movie is rolling along and you think she's missing everything. Except she isn't. You are because you have to answer her, but SHE isn't missing a thing.
Here is what I mean:
Star Wars.
She has watched this about 10 times. And each time we have lots of questions about Leia's hair, the guns, Chewbacca, things like that.
Then one day she and I were talking and I was saying something about selfishness. Not directed to her but I can't remember why we were talking about this, it was, more than likely prompted by her. So then she says, " Oh yeah! Like Luke"
I say, " Yes. Wait. What?"
And then she says, " Oh you know like in Star Wars how Luke thinks only about himself at first but then he changes and gets better and not so annoying"
And with my jaw on the floor, I say, "Yes, exactly like that"
See what I mean? I didn't process that particular aspect to the story until I was old enough to read Joseph Campbell. cough cough
Then we watched a League of Their Own.
Two weeks later I lost my temper and yelled at her.
Thirty seconds after that I apologized. The she says "oh that's ok Mama I love you even though you are a yelling Mama. It's ok. I see that you are trying. Just like that man in the girl's baseball movie. Like how he was just trying to make himself better because he didn't like himself much. I see you sometimes do that kind of thing like, (here's where she does this perfect Tom Hanks vibrating and talking through gritted teeth to maintain control impersonation).
I just looked at her, stunned.
I am telling you, had you watched that movie with her and listened to her questions and seen her fidgeting, you would have NEVER in a million years thought that she had grasped such a complex thing.
That's my girl.
Deep as they come.
I am her mother and I kind of forget how deep she really is.
Then you have the way she watches movies, very Asberger's in fact. She will get caught up on the detail of a doorframe or something and ask incessantly about it while the movie is rolling along and you think she's missing everything. Except she isn't. You are because you have to answer her, but SHE isn't missing a thing.
Here is what I mean:
Star Wars.
She has watched this about 10 times. And each time we have lots of questions about Leia's hair, the guns, Chewbacca, things like that.
Then one day she and I were talking and I was saying something about selfishness. Not directed to her but I can't remember why we were talking about this, it was, more than likely prompted by her. So then she says, " Oh yeah! Like Luke"
I say, " Yes. Wait. What?"
And then she says, " Oh you know like in Star Wars how Luke thinks only about himself at first but then he changes and gets better and not so annoying"
And with my jaw on the floor, I say, "Yes, exactly like that"
See what I mean? I didn't process that particular aspect to the story until I was old enough to read Joseph Campbell. cough cough
Then we watched a League of Their Own.
Two weeks later I lost my temper and yelled at her.
Thirty seconds after that I apologized. The she says "oh that's ok Mama I love you even though you are a yelling Mama. It's ok. I see that you are trying. Just like that man in the girl's baseball movie. Like how he was just trying to make himself better because he didn't like himself much. I see you sometimes do that kind of thing like, (here's where she does this perfect Tom Hanks vibrating and talking through gritted teeth to maintain control impersonation).
I just looked at her, stunned.
I am telling you, had you watched that movie with her and listened to her questions and seen her fidgeting, you would have NEVER in a million years thought that she had grasped such a complex thing.
That's my girl.
Deep as they come.
Monday, September 20, 2010
One Down
Well as we are having difficulty getting the schedules of three surgeons lined up (what like they are busy or something?), we are going ahead with one of the procedures.
Sept 30th is the date set for Liam's tubes. The ENT doesn't want him to head into the colder weather with the fluid on his ears so, there it is.
Suddenly it's all becoming real.
Strangely, I am not freaking out.
Sept 30th is the date set for Liam's tubes. The ENT doesn't want him to head into the colder weather with the fluid on his ears so, there it is.
Suddenly it's all becoming real.
Strangely, I am not freaking out.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Baseball
On Friday night we took the kids to an Indians game- I love night games.
It was Liam's first baseball game and his first real big outing. He loved it.
I can't say that he cared so much for the small things moving in a big green field but , he was nutso over the seats, the rain, the snacks and all of the people milling about.
Ev was in heaven and is finally starting to grasp some of the rules and strategies.It was a much needed fun night out.
It was Liam's first baseball game and his first real big outing. He loved it.
I can't say that he cared so much for the small things moving in a big green field but , he was nutso over the seats, the rain, the snacks and all of the people milling about.
Ev was in heaven and is finally starting to grasp some of the rules and strategies.It was a much needed fun night out.
And yes, that is Liam wearing a girl's ladybug raincoat. I am aware that I might have to apologize often for that as he grows up. What could I do? Last minute tickets, last minute rain, only one possible raincoat option.
Sorry kid. We'll make you REAL macho by instilling a love of Sci-fi and Science.
Friday, September 17, 2010
I Went and Did It
I have fallen completely, hopelessly, head over heels in love with my son.
Some small but profound shift in things happened some time this week, seemingly in between breaths. One minute we were all still struggling, and in the next, things were easier.
It is difficult to put into words.
I was here, doing my thing and wondering about attachment and bonding - on all sides. And then I noticed, that I wasn't wondering about it constantly anymore. That suddenly we were just doing the things we do, and having fun and seeing the stress wash away.
Today I feel more optimistic and happy about our futures together. I can see the pieces starting to fall into place. I see him trying, I feel Les trying harder to get it right, I see myself taking more time to get it right. I see Ev being Ev.
It's all good.
Better than last week, not as good as it will be next week.
It's called progress.
I like progress.
I Was Going to Talk About the Baseball Game
We went out to an Indians game last night. I was going to talk about that and the fun we had even though it was raining off and on a bit.
But let's not.
Let's talk instead about my daughter. The daughter that is so gosh darn stubborn that she makes me want to yank my hair out, re-grow it and yank it out again.
And let's mention that I do love homeschooling but oh my goodness. She can really make me doubt our decision to do it some days.
So we have been working on poem memorization and recital. I know! For a first grader?!?!! Well, this is the part that I am most skeptical and head scratchy about.... but when I read our manual, I get it. It's just the real life practice of it makes me cringe. Mostly because I knew, KNEW it would not go easy with Miss I Ain't Gonna Do Nuthin' You Want.
On Monday we told her about it. Pick a poem, practice it, learn it, then on Friday you can tell it al to us. Oh LORD! You would have thought that we wanted her to eat boiled rat brains. So struggle on Monday
( however, she learned it in about 5 minutes flat).
Some struggle on Tuesday getting her to repeat it. Because she could and did repeat it to me ad nauseum right up until I had the unmitigated gall to request that she do it for her school time.
Wednesday and Thursday- no big issue, she would recite it at will( about 752 times a day).
Today? Well? Today was a horse of a different color. I am here with her and Liam, Les is on Duty. Everyone is tired from being out late at the game. We got right up to the part about having to stand up and recite the poem.
Then all hell broke loose.
" First grade is stupid." "I do not want to do this " " I am not going to do this" " You can't make me do this" "I will do it if you look away and I can sit down" " Why are you calling Papa?"
All in a whiney and petulant tone that sends my self control right out of the window. But I maintained. I did. I didn't loose it. I just had her stand there and I waited until she was ready to do what I had asked her to do. I did have to call Les for re-inforcement (both so she could see that he and I were on the same page and so that hearing his voice would help me not turn into MonsterMom).
She flatly refused to do it for him as well.
Two hours.
Two hours it took for us to crack that stubborn hide a bit. She never really did it without the whiney tone but hey, I'll take a partial victory.
And what was this horrible awful hellish poem?
Well, she picked it first of all.
And this is what all of the fuss was about:
Fee Fi Fo Fum
I smell the blood of an Englishman.
Be he alive or be he dead,
I'll grind his bones to make my bread.
Four lines.
Four lines that she could recite back in about 2 read throughs.
It's funny really. The ends she will go to in order to torture us all.
Grinding bones indeed.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Pedicure in the Style of Pollock
We were talking about college with Ev the other day. Well....she was asking questions and we were answering them, that's how you converse with my girl. She listened to all of the answers and then she said "O man I can not wait for College!"
Then Les asked her what she wanted to learn about in college. Her answer floored me! I expected, things like; to be a Doctor, or something Math-y. What she said was, "I want to go to learn how to paint like Jackson Pollock"
Yes, she did.
I was never so happy in all my days. ( I love Pollock's work and was tearful with hapiness when Ev stood in front of one of his paintings, silent and enthralled for about 15 minutes)
You see, I have this fear that she will be a doctor. And no, I do not want that life for my daughter. There, I said it.
So when she mentioned art, I was all over it. Quietly you see. Quiet as a church mouse about my joy. Let's face it, she is so contrary that had I showed my enthusiasm, she would have veered right off the path.
Yesterday, I set her up all Pollock like in the driveway.
But first we watched some You Tube videos of him painting and we talked about his process. I love that literal girl. She sat there, happy for what we were about to do, but worried about all of the rule breaking. What if she got it wrong?
You can not get it wrong I said. Whatever is in you is always right, just have fun and get it out.
Well, let me plan out my piece, she said.
I replied , NO! Look at him paint, he's not thinking he's feeling! watch! There is no time to think, just to paint.
I might get messy.
You better get messy I told her.
But....?
Nope. Let's go. Let's do it.
And she did.
With gusto!
And she didn't think. And everything was exactly right. And she made a colossal mess.
And she didn't have to share it. We kept Rah Rah out of the way and let her go at it.
I swear at one point she was splashing red paint and stomping her foot when the paint hit and she had her face all screwed up.... it was wonderful. She would tilt her head and splash! plop! drip! drizzle!
I am not kidding, afterwards, she was relaxed and glowing.
Then Les asked her what she wanted to learn about in college. Her answer floored me! I expected, things like; to be a Doctor, or something Math-y. What she said was, "I want to go to learn how to paint like Jackson Pollock"
Yes, she did.
I was never so happy in all my days. ( I love Pollock's work and was tearful with hapiness when Ev stood in front of one of his paintings, silent and enthralled for about 15 minutes)
You see, I have this fear that she will be a doctor. And no, I do not want that life for my daughter. There, I said it.
So when she mentioned art, I was all over it. Quietly you see. Quiet as a church mouse about my joy. Let's face it, she is so contrary that had I showed my enthusiasm, she would have veered right off the path.
Yesterday, I set her up all Pollock like in the driveway.
But first we watched some You Tube videos of him painting and we talked about his process. I love that literal girl. She sat there, happy for what we were about to do, but worried about all of the rule breaking. What if she got it wrong?
You can not get it wrong I said. Whatever is in you is always right, just have fun and get it out.
Well, let me plan out my piece, she said.
I replied , NO! Look at him paint, he's not thinking he's feeling! watch! There is no time to think, just to paint.
I might get messy.
You better get messy I told her.
But....?
Nope. Let's go. Let's do it.
And she did.
With gusto!
And she didn't think. And everything was exactly right. And she made a colossal mess.
And she didn't have to share it. We kept Rah Rah out of the way and let her go at it.
I swear at one point she was splashing red paint and stomping her foot when the paint hit and she had her face all screwed up.... it was wonderful. She would tilt her head and splash! plop! drip! drizzle!
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