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.

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!

Lament

One of her favorite movies is Kiki's Delivery Service, a Miyazaki film. In the movie, Kiki is a young witch who is able to use her broom and fly off on adventures. Ev stands for hours out in our yard hoping to catch just the right wind to ignite her own "flying magic"and lift her to the sky. This is what she looks like after she gives up for the day.

" 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

When I saw this picture I got all teared up. I am not sure of it's that she looks so big, or if it's because he is my true partner. Maybe it's because seeing them like this together is like a dream come true. Whatever the reason, I cried. It's like looking at your heart walking around out in the world. It's realizing all at once, in a huge emotional wave, that in all of the world, these two belong to me.

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.

Backyard Hooligans

We spent all day out back today. Raking leaves and acorns, discussing various fairy behaviors, digging in dirt, riding bikes, eating chalk (guess who), chatting with the neighbors, pushing trucks, playing water carrier and various other activities. It was a nice day, topped off with some hot chocolate.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

What to say?

Sometimes during the wait for our adopted children, we parents hit this white noise phase. Nothing new to anyone outside your particular wait. So there will be this lull in blogging and this avoidance in spoken conversation about the whole thing. It happens because each day is a new misery or basket of hope and yet it sounds exactly the same as yesterday's misery or basket of hope and you don't want to be repetitive. Plus, you kind of feel like no one but other adoptive parents can really get what you are saying anyway and most of the time they have said it better and funnier than you.
I have found that I am in one of those phases now. But what's up? I mean the kids here so isn't everything just peachy keen?
Well, the answer to that question is yes and no.
I have this semi-desire to talk about all of the peachy stuff. Then I think, "But that's not the whole picture"
I have this semi-desire to talk about the not so peachy stuff. Then I think, "Why? So it will seem like your dream coming true is just.....tepid?" Or I read some awesomely written blog post by another adoptive Mama and I think "oh hell why do I even bother?"

Anyone who knows me can attest to the fact that the word "succinct" sort of gives me a rash. It is nearly impossible for me to give polite, simply worded updates. Nope. Can not do it. I try but it all just gets jumbled up and I stand there blinking and staring and looking kind of silly. Not about my kids and the journey to them and the journeys that we are on with them, right now, every moment, every day.

Yes, It's good,we are over the moon with Liam. I mean, have you seen that kid? He's about as cute and cuddly and social as they come.

No, it's not good. At least it's not great. Yet. Let me say that one again ....YET.   It will get there. We will get there. But right now it's just grinding, this work of getting to know him, of settling into this life together. I am sure he looks at us sometimes and he wonders about us and these things we do. 


With Liam you can go entire days and sort of forget that he is hurting. Everything I learned with Ev is right out of the window and I have to let all of that go. I have to see him in a new light. I know that every parent with more than one child has to do this. It's just with adopted kids, you have to be more fierce, more on top, more willing to surrender yourself. MORE MORE MORE. I am not trying to understate the relationship that bio families have but let's face it, most families out there are not dealing with kids that were deeply wounded, abandoned, hungry, lonely and frightened for most, if not all, of their lives. 


And that's how our days go. One step forward, two steps back. Lots of self doubt on the parental front.
Sound like fun?
Well, it is and it ain't.
And that's adoption.
And it also happens to be where we are.
(Deep breath, as whining will commence in 3,2,1....)
Also, we met with the Surgical Team. No surprises, good or bad. I had hoped for, not the best because I have eyes in my head and can see his cleft, but you know, I hoped for fair to middlin'. What we got was shit storm. "Very WIDE Cleft" said the doctor, "bone grafts" said Stooge Number One. Tubes in the ears. Dental surgery murmured Stooge Number Two. I loved the phrase "intensive speech therapy".  And the casual hand toss with the mention of lip revision(S) and rhinoplasty just about did me in. How dare they be so casual about changing that wonderful little face? I sat there with my son on my lap as all of those words fell about us like so much nonsense and my heart broke. Not for me silly, for him. For the pain, for the struggles, I don't know for all of it. And all of it starting before he has it figured out that we LOVE him and we are HERE. I struggled with it because I want the world to see what we see when we look at him, Liam Wayne Ao Zhuang. Just a little boy who will steal your heart if you are not careful.

And no. None of this is news. We did our research. It's just news FOR HIM. There is a checklist of possible procedures that a cleft affected child might possibly need, it all depends on the severity of the cleft and other technical things. Let's just say that Liam's is all checked up. And really who wants that for their child?
And no. I would not rather not do it. I want to help this boy talk and be heard. I want to see him stand up and walk proudly into a bright future.
And yes. I will get over the boo hoo fest about this issue. Any. Freaking. Day. Now.

In summary, we are ok. Sometimes we are good. Sometimes we see shining glimpses of the new us. Sometimes I want to put earplugs in and gorge on chocolate and go comatose for awhile. Sometimes I want to pick up both kids and squeeze them tight and shout to the Heavens , " I love these kids!!!"- oh wait, I actually do that. Evelyn loves it by the way (that was sarcasm). And sometimes I wish that a simple, fervent little prayer would heal my son's mouth- instantly and without pain.
The most telling thing of all is, I think, that sometimes, I am gripped with nearly crippling anxiety at the thought of a life without them in it. Not them being here and then gone, but of never having taken the steps that led me to them.

Once There Was a Nephew

Once there was this baby born to my sister. A complete little person, a stranger, a little wrinkled man.
I had the esteemed pleasure to be the first fellow human to ever lay hands on him. I remember touching his wrinkled feet, they were tiny but too large for his body and he was still damp from residing in that warm place in which he grew.
I rubbed that foot and I said to him " You don't know me and I don't know you but I hope we can be great friends"

And then the process of knowing him began. As a baby, what can be said? He ate, he slept, he grew. And I loved him, almost too much to stand. It was a difficult place in our relationship, for I knew that I would never have a child of my own that tiny and helpless- and oh how he made my heart ache and yearn. 

And then his personality began to emerge. Goofy, funny, smart, stubborn. A real fit for this crowd.

I watched him hit that roly-poly tumbling down toddler age. He was easy with a grin- just a sort of rollicking kind of kid. And he had asthma so I worried about him constantly. I also got to stand by and watch my sister change into a mother.  I loved this boy.

From those deep dark, eyes to that beautiful curly hair, I was, and still am, a goner. I remember his toddles, his falls, his clumsiness. I took to calling him headlong because that's how he approached life and body mechanics- just headlong into it all. Full of jokes and laughs. Easy with people, smiling and charming. But, also a rascal. I saw him throw a fit once that left me confused and baffled and laughing and crying and thinking,  "Oh my Lord what is Melissa ever going to do with this kid?".

And this weekend I looked at him. And I kind of panicked. While I was away he has changed into a kid. Not a toddler or pre-schooler. Not roly-poly anymore. Almost out of his headlong ways of moving. There he was, all golden and brown. Curly hair crowning that head. Laughing and smiling and being concerned and tender for his new cousin. He's playing soccer, he's learning to spell and read. He talks and tells me things about his day. He calls up to talk over a rough day with Evelyn. He is all things boy, rocks and bugs and climbing and sports, cars and airplanes. 

He is Brevin. 

My nephew.

And I simply can not imagine my life without him in it.

I told him once when he was worried about Liam coming, I told him that I loved him. I told him that no matter what, he was the first boy in my heart and that would never change. It won't.

Every time I look at him, I see those floppy baby feet in that hospital warmer and my heart skips and I remember my promise of friendship. Quite possibly the easiest promise of all to keep.

I love you Brev. I am sorry that I have been so busy and tired lately. Could you please slow down your growing a bit? Just until I catch my breath, so I don't miss anything, you see.

This is you at the beginning of this summer.

This is you last week.

See what I mean? Just slow it down a bit buddy, there's plenty of time.

To Have and Have Not

I have had this one aspect to our current place in life rolling about in my head for days and days. Then I read this entry from one of my favorite blogs and then suddenly I had words.
 
Bushel and a Peck

It was as though, reading Christie's words freed my own. That happens to me alot. I am a true  extrovert so my emotions are directly connected to language. Sometimes I can't find words, and then I will read the right thing, or make a silly comment to Leslie and SHAZZAAM! I have words.
And so that's about it. We have this precious boy in our lives. I have a son. There is this other person here enriching our lives, preventing sleep every other night or so, leaving me staggered by the doctor's appointments. Making me dig deep yet again to find even better versions of myself to offer.

And I am happy about this. I truly am. This boy is amazing. He can break your heart, make you laugh and make you feel like you would make better progress by attempting to talk a tree into walking away, all in a five minute stretch.
I have a son.
I am still finding the mother that goes with that son.
I know who I am to Evelyn, I know how to gauge her moods, read her face, comfort her when she cries. I don't yet have that for Liam.

On top of all of the typical adoption/attachment/bonding things we have going on, there is a dimension to it all that is present and it is making things much harder.
We can not communicate with this boy. Now, let me be real here, he has a mild hearing loss so really we can make ourselves heard. It's not that. We are teaching and learning sign language but that will take time. It's that we can not understand him.
He has lost so much, and now even the slightest wish or desire requires so much work to get across. His words are lost in that cleft and they swirl around and tumble out in all sorts of ways and there is no clear way to understand him. I watch him and I KNOW that even though he has seen love, he has been fed well, he has been cared for, there was no one there that had the time to teach him in the area of language- it simply does not occur to him to make the same sound twice for the same thing.

 I can guess at a few things. That he has had so much loss already that he will control this issue to the last? That he just wants to be a kid? That he is embarrassed by this whole thing? Am I right? Am I wrong? Who knows? He does and he can not tell me.
What I know is that these kids loose so much. They have so little choice in what happens to them that this loss of being able to speak his needs, wants and jokes- it just feels terrible.
Think of it like this, he has the mind of  a 2 year old but the physical language ability of an 8 or 9 month old. He jabbers and points and talks and we have no earthly idea what he is getting at. He knows. I see him sometimes, just give up. It kills me.
This is troubling. Not for me. I can work through it. We are working through it, slowly. And I know that his surgery will  help and we will really be on our way then. It's just that he didn't choose us- I would like to be able to understand some of his choices, even just if he wants a certain type of cookie. I am troubled for him I can not imagine how difficult it would be to be in his position.

And so it goes.
A little here, a little there.
And we will get there- toghether.
It's all I have to offer.

Breakdown

  So far this week I/we have:

                                                Accidentally stepped on the cat 563 times.

                                               

                                                        Gotten a toy boat stuck in hair.

                     

   Drove 3 hours round trip to play at Grandma's house.

                                        

             Tried Chile for the first time (he loved it in case that's not obvious)

Completed 6 hours of Homeschooling.

Had three Doctor's appointments among the boys.

Mopped the floors twice.

Finally got the laundry caught up.

Taken a few moments to sit on the porch in the spirit of camaraderie.

Cooked on the grill with Grandpa.

Played with cousins.

Discovered caterpillars.

Learned about Grandma's and Great Grandma's.

Realized that nephew's grow up way too fast.

Goofed off with Photo Booth.

Hey we didn't even have to use an AK!

Homeschooling is Hard Work

After a long day at The Table of Learning, someone in the house passes out on the couch.

No, not the student.  One of the Teachers.

Messages for Grandma

Happy Birthday Mom.

Today Evelyn and I sat and talked about you and she told me some things she wanted you to hear.

Here are her messages: Save a piece of cake for me.

Have fun at your Birthday.

We are coming on Monday for you to see me.

I love you.

I'll be bringing you a present.

I also asked her to tell me some things that she liked about her Grandma and this is what she said:

"She is just a special Grandma"

"I like her because she plays with me"

" She is just so pretty. I like all of her pretty jewelry"

"When she hugs me tight tight tight it makes me happy"

Mom, I love you dearly. I shudder to think about the type of person I would be without you in my life. You have taught me how to be kind and gentle and to be more "soft". When I think of us together when I was Ev's age, I just have this impression of you smiling at me. I have never wanted for a thing in the years as your charge.

Here's hoping you don't have to cook dinner on your Birthday.

Special Needs

Many months ago my husband and I made a decision. It was possibly the biggest one in our lives. We decided to add another child to this home. Not just any child. We held our breaths and jumped into the Special Needs line. I have to say that now, it was easy. Really and truly easy.

I knew in my heart that we could do it. I will not go into the dark days we had while filling out the Medical Conditions Checklist- some things are just ours. I will say that you can have some pretty awful moments when you look that closely at your own flawed heart. Mostly it was the worrying over this and that. What procedures would be needed- that sort of thing. But after that MCC, it was good. It felt right.

You now what? It still does. Easy in fact.

I am not trying to belittle the physical state of my son's "Need". He has a very significant cleft in that mouth of his. And as a matter of fact all of my false hopes for " a tiny hole" or " maybe it was already fixed" have been dashed. I have had a couple of rough afternoons when the reality of just how bad his speech situation is going to be. It's like this, if that boy is saying anything that resembles English, it is so garbled and scrambled that we have no idea. My heart broke for him today because I realized that he was pointing at a picture on my wall and I said,  " oh yes that is a picture" and he made a sound that I KNOW was meant to be "picture". But it was not. I looked at him and the light in his eyes and I realized that he did indeed say "picture"- just like any child his age would have. But if I had not been looking really hard, right there at that sweet little mouth? I would not have any clue that he is trying his damnedest to meet us half way. And that was the saddest moment of my life. Because I saw this big hill in front of him and I know that he will have to climb it.

What I am trying to say is that the loving him is easy. The choosing to care for him is and was easy. The hard part is going to be watching him fight and struggle to be understood. Before we met him, I would read blogs about children with clefts and how they struggled terribly with their speech and I would think "Liam's speech won't be that bad". Naive? Yes. 

Because the fact is, his speech is that bad. I have come to terms with that and I have set my heart to fight mode and I will struggle up that hill every bit of the way with him and I will be proud and happy to do it.

We have yet to see a Surgeon (it's scheduled) and we have yet to see a Speech Therapist (working on getting it scheduled) so, in our daily lives right now? There is no "Special Need". Physically.

I do however find myself looking at the fact that you just don't get a post-institutionalized child home and find them unscathed. The fact is that I thought Liam was "better off" than Ev. And, yes, I am going to say it, in many ways, he is. It's that he's not as well off as I originally thought.  He is hurting. He worries. He wonders how long this will last. He laughs and charms his way through the day because he feels so insecure. He needs me to smile at him so he can feel like the next few minutes will be okay. 

I have found a streak of stubbornness in this child that is a thing of biblical proportions. I know in my heart this stems partly from personality but also partly from pain. These children MUST maintain a certain amount of control. They MUST. 

And so the need I find myself stepping around and fretting over has nothing to do with the cleft in his mouth, it's the cleft in his heart. And there isn't a surgery or a referral or a vitamin or a therapy for that. It's just us and him, stacking time together. Smiling and loving and being as predictable as we can be so that one day he will decide that no matter what, he can not rid himself of us. We are in this for the long haul and he is the only one not in on that secret.

Completion

She Rocked!

Yesterday was our first day of Home Schooling Ev for 1st Grade.
We had some kinks to work out but, that was the 'Rents, not the students fault.
All in all it was a good day.
We did Math, Spelling, Handwriting, Art and History.
She was an enthusiastic student, she never complained and she ROCKED!