Cousin Get Together

Listening to the laughter of children, the kids screaming and the splashing of overly-chlorinated water might sound like any group of cousins getting together to play.

But for us, this informal get together was a lot more than that.

When this particular group of cousins get together, it's a reminder that God is good. God has plans bigger than all of us. It's a reminder that WE can make a difference. We can make the difference in the life of a child, and there is nothing greater than that.

Rewind the clock about 5 years.

Imagine, if you will, as 4 cousins are taken to an orphanage in Ethiopia after their grandmother is unable to care for them any longer. They know no one. They cling to each other as they attempt to make sense of their world. Daily survival is the only thing they can focus on. Tomorrow doesn't count. They have no future; at least not one they can imagine.

Rewind even further... 2 years before that and you will find a grandmother suddenly taking care of 4 grandchildren approximately ages 2,4,6,8 when two mothers die a month apart.

Josh was particularly talkative this week. I love it when he talks about his past because it gives me a better picture of who he really is. I hate it because it hurts. It hurts to know I wasn't always there to protect him. It hurts to think about what he's seen. He told me about when his mother died and his step dad and grandmother fought about who was going to take them in. He smiled and said, "Grandma won." I told him Grandma was a strong, determined woman who got what she wanted, and she would be SO happy watching them all play together. He agreed.


This picture shows Menkem, (Jameson) on the left, Mykias (Michael) front, Kalkidan (top center) and Filemon (Josh) on the right. This was one of their first days in the orphanage.

I've looked at this picture a million times... 3 years ago, I looked at this picture daily; not so much now because I've got the real thing to look at here at home. But it still moves me to tears to see them. I am unable to even imagine what they were thinking and feeling.

These cousins stayed together for about a year and a half at the orphanage. The younger two were adopted by a family who lives in Louisville, Kentucky. It was around the time that Michael and Kalkidan were adopted, that our kids found out about us. In a sense, we were a consolation prize for their loss. When the Killeen's came to pick up Michael and Kalkidan, Josh hid in his room and cried and cried. It breaks my heart in half to think about his pain.

But our God is good. He heals. He puts families together who cling to one another and support each other. He keeps these kids together one way or another. I am amazed to look at these pictures approximately 5 years later. Absolutely amazed.

How do you engage?

I'm still struggling with how to engage this child.

I know the symptoms come from her past. I know life in an orphanage is not pretty. I know in my heart that she has never been put first. I know in my heart it takes unconditional love, patience, and time to reverse her behavior.

But it's so hard.

It's so hard to raise a child always who runs for the door to be first in everything, leaving her siblings behind to carry her bag, pick up all the stuff she forgot, basically take second seat to her... ALWAYS.

It's so hard to raise a child who only thinks of others while "eyeing" you to make sure you're watching her share or be kind to someone else... just to watch the behavior disappear the minute she thinks you've looked away.

This has been the battle of my life... to engage her. To make her want to be a part of this family when it's not fun. When there aren't rewards involved. When we aren't watching.

I look at Josh put his arm around Justine as she crosses the street. I watch him share and be patient with his younger siblings... probably more patient than I would be at times. I watch him day in and day out think of others, put others first and do things for us without being asked to.

And I realize it's not necessarily an adoption issue or a orphan issue, it's a Jameson issue.

And I continue to wait for her to decide she's a part of this family... and in the mean time, I give gentle reminders as to what that actually means.

The dusty attachment tool box

The attachment monster is raising its' ugly head again. I became painfully aware over the past few weeks that we have a long ways to go. I think I really thought that if we could just fix her developmental and educational problems, the rest would fall into place. But it seems the more we wake up her brain, the more I am aware that she still has a lot of issues. It has been recommended that we begin talk therapy after she's completed the IM therapy. It's too much to do all at once. It's too overwhelming for all of us.

But I can't stop by help thinking... Why now? It's been two years.

Perhaps I had just put my head in the sand...? Perhaps I was too preoccupied with my own issues to realize that her issues are actually my issues. Perhaps I'm just too damn overwhelmed by the thought of it. Attachment in a pre-teen? It's not like I can carry her around in a sling or do Taming the Tiger with her; she's almost 11 for heaven's sake. I don't mean to whine, but this attachment thing is so much harder with bigger kids. Especially kids who have such memories to compete with. I really hoped it would all just fix itself. I know. Denial ain't just a river in Egypt.

So what do you do when you realize you put away the attachment books too early? Well, you dust them off and unfortunately, start all over again. You get out your attachment tool box and begin researching again. You educate yourself.

A few weeks ago, I grabbed my Parenting the Hurt Child book, dusted it off, gave myself permission to write in it, highlight in it, sleep with it under my pillow, pray to it, and learn more from it this time around.

I also checked out the book A Safe Place for Caleb for kids. It's an interactive book for kids with issues of attachment, grief and loss, or early trauma. I'm muddling my way through this book as well, as a preview before I jump into it with Jameson.

I did find this advice in the back of the book, and sadly I realize I haven't done a lot of these things. To be perfectly honest, I haven't done most of these things. At least... not very well.

• First and foremost: take care of yourself.
• Guard your marriage and relationships with other children.
• Learn as much as possible about attachment disorders.
• Acknowledge and grieve your losses.
• Ask for help.
• Follow your gut.
• Pick your battles.
• Have "No Attachment Disorders" time.
• Allow "down times" after therapy.
• See the child beyond the behaviors.
• Keep a trauma/loss perspective: Don't take it personally.
• Create a safe home evironment: Act with a plan, avoid sarcasm, squelch rage.

* list taken from A Safe Place for Caleb by Kathleen A. Chara and Paul J. Chara, Jr.

Baby Pics ...

I was browsing the internet the other day and clicked on our local adoption agency's website. When I clicked on the Ethiopia information flyer, I saw shocked to see Josh's face.

Don't get me wrong, I knew he was on the flyer. I'm not that bad of a mother... I had even seen the picture before, but when I saw his face, I was astounded by how much he has grown up.

It is amazing to see the transformation. These are like baby pictures for me. The only thing we have to see them before us. I had forgotten how special these pics were to me.

Scroll down and see my boy with his beautiful picture of the person with the yellow face. He just now asked me, "Why did I color their face yellow?" Haha.

Josh at age 8 or 9...

Not to be left out, Jameson is in the picture directly above his, but you can't see her very well.

(Trust me, I already heard that from her...)

So while we're strolling down memory lane, I might as well take the big detour. Here are some of the pics we received while we were waiting for them to come home.

This picture of Jameson cracks me up... boy that should've been a sign of what was to come. Oh lord... does this make me laugh now.

Jameson and my good friend and neighbor Julie.

This picture makes me smile because Josh so rarely lets us see this side of him... the silly, crazy, child... I love it.

This picture also portrays her personality so well... happy and just a little bit spastic and highly excitable.

These are our baby pics and we adore them as much as the expensive hospital pics of the others. I wish I had more pictures. They are priceless.

Stolen Post

I stole this post from One thankful Mom. Read it. It spoke to my heart.

The Dance: Older Child Adjustment

IM Update Week 4

Jameson just finished week 4 of IM therapy, but because of scheduling conflicts on her tutor's part and illness on our part and snow on all of our parts, it's actually about the end of week 3.

She seems to be doing so much better at math specifically. She just began 3rd grade math this week and is not struggling at all. She took a test today and should have made an A but just made several mistakes like added when she should have subtracted or put her commas in the wrong place. Mistakes that show she just hurried through and didn't pay attention. A huge problem for her.

So school is better.

But home life is so not better.

She has been grounded all week for compulsive lying, not sleeping, wandering around the house at night, throwing her lunch in the trash and saying she ate it because she didn't like it, back talking, fighting with her sisters. And a lot of our stuff has come up missing this week. She swears she didn't take it, but I'm sad to say I don't always believe her.

I am so hoping that this is just part of the IM therapy stimulating part of her brain that holds all that trauma from her early days.

Because I only thought I was frustrated before.

I know it seems like I'm quitting or giving up or whatever, but I'm resigned to the fact that she will be going to public school next year. I want her to finish out her therapy, which is in the middle of the day and that wouldn't work with public school, and she's getting tested in April to check grade level. Until then, I will keep on keeping on and attempt to shove as much information into her expanding mind as I can, and I will begin to make plans for next year.

2 years ago today...

IM Update

Since you are all traveling along this I road with me, I thought I would share with you an email I received from our IM therapist today.

"Hi there,
Very busy weekend.
Sorry I'm just now responding.
I love the prayer. Keep it coming! : )

For some kids, this is the key and we see world-changing results in a few weeks. For most, however, this is just one tool in the toolbox. I suspect that will be the case with Jameson. She has so many things going on that they all need to be addressed before real change takes place. For example, I have a student right now who struggled through IM. He really did okay but never met all of his training goals and we stopped and moved on to reading because he was worn out. About 6 weeks after stopping IM, the light went on for him and I saw night and day changes in his reading in the span of two sessions. In his case, I attribute the sudden change partly to the change that was continuing to take place in his brain from IM and some basic reading skills he was missing.

I have had some kids that had that "sudden" change a full year after finishing IM. Others, it was a month or two. Those tend to be the older kids that have more neural pathways in place that need changing. The research backs this up. As long as the big goals are met, the brain continues to re-map itself as time goes on. Kind of like with the inter-continental railroad, nothing big happened until that last golden spike was driven. Then, trains could race across the country carrying all kinds of good stuff.

I emailed my education director at IM last week concerning IM and its effects on PTSD. She responded very quickly but, unfortunately, with bad news. Walter Reed had begun a study specifically on IM/PTSD with returning soldiers but, the lead physician's husband was deployed and she withdrew the study. My director is asking if we would be willing to put together a case study concerning PTSD with Jameson. The hope is that, if we can show gains specifically with PTSD that another university or hospital will pick it up and continue the research on a larger scale.

This would require two things: 1. getting a physician and/or counselor involved now and 2. documenting along the way. Let me know what you think about this. I think it could really serve the larger good.

For now, would it help to try to move her times to later in the day in order to get school work in before coming? I have emailed a former professor to see about the ESL/IEP issue. I will let you know as soon as I hear something back.

Blessings,
Angelique "

Interactive Metronome Week 1

The week began with me attempting to teach Jameson place value AGAIN. We have seriously been at this for 2 years now, and everytime we add to it, it's mass confusion all over again.

I say the number, for example, "five-thousand, six hundred."

She writes some preposterous number like 560000000. Again and again and again.

And we dance this dance of frustration for over 30 minutes.

And yes... I have tried every possible way of teaching this concept, manipulatives with straws in groups, pictures, etc. This is but one example of the much larger, much more severe issue.

Eventually this ends with both of us near tears as she cannot understand it, and I cannot make her understand it. I kinda want to jump out of the window at this point or vice versa.

She makes it through her first metronome session without any problems. She loves getting attention from others, especially other women, who aren't mean like me, who feed her attachment issues; so she really enjoyed it.

Then Day 2, therapy went OK, but afterward, she is freaking in outer space. I feel like I might as well put her to bed after therapy. She cannot focus, answer questions, or do much of anything. I guess it's normal for her brain to be a little fried after metronome.

Day 3 - Her therapist said she is doing phenomenally well. They've moved on to the auditory stuff and will come back to the visual as auditory seems to be the part she has the hardest part with. ie: listening to someone say the number five-thousand six hundred and having the slightest idea how to understand what she's heard and write that number.

Interestingly, she said Jameson responds much better with her feet than her hands and responds better with her right hand but left foot. I have no idea what this means...

Her therapist said it's not unusal for people to get the "itchies" after beginning therapy. Student with sensory integration difficulties will have so much activity going on in the brain that the nervous system often responds strangely.

IM is also used to treat PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder) which I'm pretty sure Jameson has. Her therapist warned me that she may begin having more emotionality and nightmares while her brain is being stimulated to such extents.

And that's just week 1...

What I don't wanna be...

A train wreck.

I have to admit I have a few blogs that I continue to read even though I always promise I'm not going to read anymore because quite frankly, their lives are a freaking train wreck.

But for some socially inappropriate reason, I cannot look away.

I told you I was a self-admitted ambulance chaser.

You never know what is going to happen to these people next. It's like one bad decision after another compounded with a little bad luck, compounded with a few more head-scratching decisions.

Don't worry. It's none of you. I promise.

My point is, I do not want to be your train wreck.

I do not want my blog to turn into that drama. I don't want it to turn into my griping about my kids, my husband, my finances, my job, my family...

I just want to document our lives, maybe take a few good pictures now and then, make a few people laugh from time to time, and tell a good story once in awhile.

I have my battles. I have my drama. And occasionally you just get lucky enough to witness it. There are lows, and there are highs to living in Ellerbeeville. I know. It seems like all glamour all the time, doesn't it?

I invite you to get to know me; to share in my drama.
I invite you to laugh with me and to cry with me; to pray with me and share with me.

Today I ask your prayers as Jameson begins her Interactive Metronome Therapy. I have been in prayer all weekend over this. I ask that we cover her in prayer. Cover her tutor Angelique in prayer.

I know last week my frustration got the best of me. Boy did it. I'm sure some of you thought I was a train wreck... Glad I could be of service to you ambulance chasing few.

I don't even think I realized how much my frustration with her had been building, building, building. I'm so worried about her future if she can't get out of 2nd grade. I just want the best for her and all the rest of the Bee's.

Thank you for the kind words and the encouragement.

Please shout out a prayer today for Jameson (Honey Bee).

Wara and Whara...

Oh today.

Today has been one of those days.

It's one of those days I think Jameson would be better off in special ed at public school than home with me.

It started with a spelling test.

Were and Where.

She's studied them for... oh... 2 years now.

Wrote them, said them, spelled them, repeat. repeat. repeat....

Close the book. Take the test.

Wara and Whara...

Really?

5 minutes and you can't remember how to spell 2 words?

I give up.

Dear God,

Only You truly know the full extent of my frustration. Only You know the gravity of the situation I find myself in today. Only You know my failure. Only You know my heart. Only You know my intentions. Only You know the answers. Guide me in what to do with her. Guide me in knowing what's best for her and for me.

Because I'm spent. My patience is gone. I am at a loss.

1 Thessalonians 5:14

"And we urge you, brothers, warn those who are idle, encourage the timid, help the weak, be patient with everyone."

Hope this works...

Thanks to the recent arrival of my below mentioned flexible spending account Visa card, Jameson will begin her interactive metronome adventures next week. Oh, how I love the beginning of a new year with a new balance in my medical flex account.

This is a shot in the dark for me. I've read a lot about this, and I am praying it works. While she has made a lot of progress in two years, she is no where near grade level. Reading, spelling and paying attention are SO very difficult for her. Homeschooling her has become so frustrating for both of us. But I know struggling at a 2nd grade level with reading and spelling and everything else, she would be lost in the public school 5th grade where they insist she be.

This is a very extensive, very expensive treatment that has been shown to improve attention, coordination and timing for people with sensory processing difficulties.

In reading about IM, I've found that it is a treatment used for both children and adults who suffer from attention deficit disorders, motor planning problems, poor coordination, post-stroke or traumatic brain injury issues, gross and fine-motor concerns, and some learning and language disorders. IM can also be used as a way to enhance academic performance and help with a variety of cognitive difficulties.

IM uses both the principles of the music metronome with the power of a computer to precisely measure and improve human performance.Research has shown that the interactive exercises help to measure and improve one's rhythm and timing. By improving timing and rhythm, hopefully Jameson will learn to plan, sequence and process information more effectively.

She will use special head phones and hand and foot sensors to measure her reactions. She will also be challenged to synchronize her hand and foot movements with a tone heard through headphones. When doing IM, she will get both audio and visual feedback to see how she's doing. IM is supposed to stimulate learning and motor development.

I have researched a lot about neurodevelopmental issues. It was recommended that we go to see a specialist, but I really want to give IM a try.

Neurodevelopmental delays can be caused from:
Adoption
In-utero stress (which may include birthmother's stress over pending adoption) Foster Care
Orphanage
Sudden separation from primary caregiver
Moves between families
Move to a new country
Hospitalization
Unresolved pain issues such as reflux or ear infections
Neglect (including unintentional, due to orphanage stay)
Abuse

According to A4everFamily attachment website:
"Functional neurology results from the completion of the developmental sequence. If there is any interruption, injury, or disruption to the developmental sequence, a functional deficit will result. For some individuals, it creates a small impact on their lives. However, the majority of serious emotional, behavioral, and academic concerns have a neurological basis due to disrupted development."

For more information, click here for a list of symptoms. It's really interesting but also very sad and scary.

We know very little about Jameson's background before she was in the orphanage at around age 6 or 7. Josh will only say that she cried all the time. He offers nothing else to help us. We know that her father died before she was born, and her mother died when she was about 4. She does have memories of her mother. I can only assume she was in pain, hungry and scared for much of her early life.

The girls recently reported to me that Jameson often wakes up screaming in the night, "My mom's alive..." I knew she often had nightmares and kicked, screamed and fought in Amharic from the very beginning, but now it's in English. Wow.

I'm at a loss.
Please pray that this IM works.
We both need this to work.

Our day at the Audiologist

She looks across from the desk at me and says, "Do you have Medicaid?" I shake my head no and wonder why she would assume that. "Well, you'll have to have a chart made over there..." She points randomly across the waiting room. The girls and I walk into a small room with a few desks to have Jameson's chart made to see the Audiologist. "Do you have Medicaid?" Once again, I shake my head no.

I want to explain that my eyes are bloodshot because I worked all night and slept for an hour and a half this morning. I want to explain that while this is yesterday's pony tail, I am still a good person. I want to explain that I have 6 kids and if I look tired, it's because I am. I want to ask why everyone assumes I have Medicaid. But I'm too tired to be confrontational.

The woman stares at the insurance card, confused. Confused that someone with this many children could have insurance? Possibly. Confused as to the relationship between card holder and patient. "Are you foster mom?" Confused as to the name in the insurance card. Most likely. You see, Jameson and Josh have official documents which have about 4 or 5 different spellings and arrangements of their names. I try to explain that Jameson goes by her middle name. "Well, she'll have to go by Merkeb here..." I tell her it makes no difference, but begin to wonder why that's a reason to be upset.

We meet with the audiologist and I supply her with the paperwork from the educational testing Jameson has already had. She spends 2 minutes glancing at the test results and spends no time with my daughter before she says, "Well, if they didn't give her enough time to focus on the testing, this is probably just an attention deficit." I explain that the professional who tested her had spent 12 hours with Jameson and was very patient with her. So after 2 minutes, this woman clearly knows Jameson better.... better than me, better than the professional who spent hours testing all aspects of her learning abilities.

I explain that I didn't care what the problem was as long as we find a solution to it. She looks at the testing which showed Jameson on the low side of normal for a 2nd grader. She says, "She did very well on this testing. She must have had some schooling in her country. She's near normal." I explain that she's supposed to be in 5th grade... and being near normal for 2nd grade is great, but we have been working for a year and a half to get to the low level of second grade and have identified significant learning problems.

I want to scream that I'm not making this up. I'm not being overly concerned. I want to scream that I need answers. I need this to get better. I need her to stop sitting there judging me. Looking at me like I'm bringing my child in for more expensive testing when it's not warranted. It isn't because she's from Ethiopia. It isn't because she is a new English learner. It is something that needs to be addressed.

And as I walk out, she asks me if I have Medicaid.

Sheesh.

Entitlement issues versus cell phone removal from the anus...

I haven't posted about this subject in quite some time, but I feel it's probably time again.

I continue to be shocked by the entitlement issues our adopted kids have.

The kids have been home for a little over a year and a half. They came from basically nothing. They were hungry. They came to us with the too small, unmatched clothes on their backs and that's it. And they were thrilled to have been adopted... for about a week.

Fast forward 18 months... Josh is so obsessed his computer, his video games, and with his cell phone, it makes me ill. I don't even think his obsession would bother me so much, if he wasn't so hateful about it when he doesn't get what he wants.

I know. I know. Why did I even buy the stupid cell phone? I'm asking myself that same question. If you've ever been to Ethiopia, you will know what I mean by this... Most Ethiopians have nicer cell phones than I do. Josh has begged for a phone since he arrived on US soil. The minute he arrived on US soil.

We finally gave in for his birthday this year, and that was basically because of all these soccer practices which change locations and times constantly. Basically, him having a cell phone enables me to leave him at practice without having to wait around until he's done without worrying about his safety.

He has a perfectly nice phone.
Every single day, he starts in, begging for a nicer one.
He has a computer.
He has a huge TV in his room.
He has a playstation 2 on that huge TV.
He is on a very expensive traveling club soccer team which I work a 2nd job to pay for.
Let's not forget he also has clothes, shelter, food, and a loving family...

And today...
Today when I told him he needed to leave the phone with me and go outside to ride his bike... my how the tables changed for us. I not only got the Ethiopian pout, but absolute and outright anger. Refusal to make eye contact. Refusal to come upstairs. Then he went and got in the car by himself to wait until it was time to go.

How dare I?

Luckily, Jeff was here to witness it! Halleuluia. It's usually just me being disagreeable or whatever... But he got to see it first hand.

I am utterly amazed at the sense of entitlement of these children.

I never bought into the idea that they would be grateful to have been adopted. Grateful to have a home, clothes, food... but this is something I really did not expect.

Although their past experiences influence this behavior, I can't think that I have no one to blame but myself.

I started looking at the issues of entitlement and found these "Highs and Lows of Entitlement," according to the authors of love and logic.

In an effort to make up for all the bad things that have happened to them in their short lives, we have encouraged, although subconsciously, some really bad behaviors.

I'm not saying that kids who were born and raised in their original families right here in the good ole USA don't have entitlement issues as well because clearly this is a problem ALL kids are struggling with these days.

___________________________________________

The Highs and Lows of Entitlement according to the authors of Love and Logic.

HIGH: High need for goods and services.
LOW: Low pressure to succeed or to hold down jobs.

HIGH: High amount of time to party.
LOW: Low amount of time to devote to effort toward accomplishment.

HIGH: High expectations of others.
LOW: Low ambition.

HIGH: High resentment for those who would require them to achieve through study and effort.
LOW: Low appreciation for the opportunity for an education.

HIGH: High demand for entertainment and excitement.
LOW: Low awareness of the sacrifices made by their parents.

HIGH: High willingness to defy society's traditional rules and values.
LOW: Low respect for adults and leaders.

HIGH: High inclination to find substitute "highs" such as alcohol and drugs.
LOW: Low respect for society's traditional rules.

So that being said, what do we do about it?

How do we nip this in the bud before it escalates to ... ahem ... a surgical procedure to remove that cell phone from someone's anus...
____________________________________________________
Well number one, Josh is not getting a new cell phone. His 6 month old phone will just have to do for now.
He will also be hanging it up and having a limit on his text messages as well as his facebook time.
The computer is coming upstairs.
Our kids will be going through their stuff and picking nice things to give away to those who don't have anything.
Our kids will be re-evaluating the words want and need.
Our kids will be learning to volunteer to do things for others, and when I say volunteer, I mean without being paid for it.
Our kids will be learning that the world doesn't owe them anything. They owe the world.

Wow. Did you ever notice that these gritchy posts always come immediately following a long night at work followed by a long homeschool day and no sleep?

Thanks for listening...
And wish us good luck in reversing these poor behaviors and hopefully promoting some positive ones.

My boy

I don't know how it happened. I'm not even sure when it happened. But when I look at this boy, there is absolutely nothing in my heart that holds me back. There is nothing that separates me from him. I look at him and I can almost imagine him as a baby... my baby. I can almost insert memories of him as a tiny child that I know aren't mine, but could be if I concentrated hard enough. I can't imagine a time when he wasn't here. I can't even fathom what it would be like for him to not be here. I prayed for this moment, thinking it would be like this huge celestial happening where the angels would begin singing and the earth would stop rotating, but instead it was a slow and steady process where both of us got over our hang ups, our hearts softened, and we bonded. Adopting older children is a crazy, wild, roller coaster of emotions for the kids as well as the parents, and the payoff is absolutely amazing.

Speechless

Josh asked me today if we could watch a movie tonight. I asked him what kind of movie he wanted to watch. Expecting vampires, violence, or blood and guts, I was surprised when he asked to watch something sad.

"Mom. What's a sad movie?"
"Well, I always thought Bridge to Terabithia was sad. The little girl dies in the movie."
"I've seen plenty of people die in real life. That movie is not sad."
"Buddy, I doubt we will be able to find a movie as sad as what you've seen in real life."
"Yeah. Probably right."

Speechless.

Thank you...

Thank you to all the readers who listened to me gripe and complain about my children yesterday. Thank you for not writing a comment about how horrible I am. What a horrible woman I must be to be frustrated with two little children from Africa. They can't help it. Trust me, I have already chastized myself enough for all of us. After I wrote it, I considered deleting it; then I got busy. Imagine that.

So often, I get people who say, "you're so amazing." "You're a super mom." blah blah blah. And while my ego likes to hear these things, it's so not true. I lose my temper and patience as much, if not more. I have high expectations; probably too high. I don't want people to think that we are some weird family who never fights, who never has down days, who never worries about the future. I do. I worry all the time. I'm worrying right now.

I hope and pray that they will understand why we expect so much out of them. Today, Justine, who is probably the wisest child in the house, said, "Mom, I know you just want us to turn out to be edumacated..." She's right. There is a lot of pressure with homeschooling. Perhaps I try to do too much for fear of doing too little? Better to teach them more than they need to know than to miss something they do need to know.

Tonight, I was complaining about long division with my friends.
"How hard could it be?" I exasperatedly asked.
"In the middle of summer?" they responded, "Pretty hard."
So perhaps I need to simmer down and attempt to relax a little?

I write this blog for several reasons, one is to keep a record for myself and the kids, although they will probably want to avoid 6/16/09's post. I also write as an outlet for myself. As you can imagine, with all of these youngsters, I don't get a lot of free time for manicures, movies or "me" time. This has become that. I can pour myself into this computer and then leave it here. I can complain about dyslexia or laziness or adolescent funks here and then move on and forget about it. Unfortunately, you all get the brunt of it. But I want to be real. I want to be able to share the ups as well as the downs. Parenting 6 kids is no easy feat. Working. Homeschooling. Attempting to maintain a marriage. None of it is easy. But it's real and it's us. So there you go.

Thank you for praying for us. You will never know how much we appreciate that. We need it.

Thanks.

If I've said it once...

"Are you freaking kidding me?"

If I have said that once this week, I've said it a million times.

I had an adoption specialist person disagree with me recently on my view that adopting an older child has more challenges than adopting a baby. I've never adopted a baby, so obviously I don't know what that's like, but the process of trying to get older children caught up in school has got to top sleepless nights and diarrhea diapers. At least with infants, they learn the language and skills they need before school.

I am having my own sleepless nights imagining them trying to ever go to high school or college or hold down a job where you have to... oh, I don't know, read and write, tell time, make change. Seriously!

I am at my wit's end with trying to catch them up. If I have taught long division once in the last 6 months, I have taught it a million times. Josh totally gets it while I'm doing it with him, then when I'm grading his homework, all I can say is "Are you freaking kidding me?"

Jameson is still struggling with reading simple words at times. Today she looks at me quite seriously and says "mom, what's diddle?" I look at her assignment and it's BIBLE. There is no rhyme or reason as to whether they will get it. Some days they do, other days they look at me like they have absolutely no idea what I'm talking about.

There is so much pressure to try to get them caught up. We are doing school year round. I have become a total hard &*^, and I am grading them quite harshly. I can't tell if they have learning disabilities or just think I won't notice that the page is still only half done in handwriting you can't read.

GEEZ. Are you freaking kidding me?


On a serious note, Jameson is being tested for learning disabilities next week. As for Josh, he knows how to do it... so I think his might be more of a behavioral issue. That wouldn't be too far from reality with him.

Adoption Perspectives...

As an adopted person, with adopted children, I continue to seek to find a reasonable perspective on adoption in general. For those of you who aren't adopted, it's a whirlwind maze of emotion that I have sought to figure out for 30 plus years. No matter how much you think you understand, there are just some things you can't get. There's issues of abandonment, grief, loss, and just plain "where do I fit into this world?" feelings.

Today while the girls and I were painting fingernails and toenails, Jameson said something about her "real mom." And while I knew this phrase was bound to come up eventually, actually hearing it for the first time did sting a little. I tried to gently say, "Your first mom..." I'm OK with being second, but I so don't want to be a "fake" mom.

We talk very openly about Eyob and Nebiet... Our kids "real" parents. We talk about what they were like, how happy they would be to see them now. We refer to them as "your parents." But suddenly today, I felt like the Velveteen Rabbit, waiting to be abused enough to become "real."

As settled in and OK as our kids are now, I am not naive enough to believe they aren't still processing and grieving. Jameson asked me the other day if I thought she cried very much. I told her, "No, not too much." She replied with, "I cry a lot at night because when I open my eyes, my parents are there." Did not know this. I found a picture in Josh's room of his parents that he had blown up on the copy machine, he had autographed it in their absence; it was signed, "We love you Filemon. Love, your parents." WOW.

When people find out that I'm adopted, inevitably the question is: have you ever thought of finding your "real" parents? Geez, how I hate that phrase. Anyway, of course I've thought about it. What adopted child hasn't thought about it at one point or another? Adoptive parents, let me tell you, when those difficult pre-teen years start, you will probably hear that "real" parent phrase even more. It's normal for an adopted child to have this fantasy of their birth parents. They will be perfect. They would NEVER be so unfair as to make the child behave, do homework, or have a curfew.

I have little information about my "birth" mother. I will refer to her as my birth mother and not my real mother until the time I find out she was indeed a wooden puppet named Pinocchio who became "real" later in life. Anyway, I at least have a name. Karen Gamble. I saw it on some court documents when I was 18. Her handwriting looked just like mine. I have some vague recollection of minor details I probably propagated as a child. She was good at English. She was a college student. But even though I have even less information than my kids have, I have something. And I have something because of what my parents shared with me. And probably what I made up in the corners of my mind. But you know what? Even if I made up half of the stuff I believe to know, it's OK. As an adoptive parent now, I struggle with the chasm between the knowledge we don't have and what we believe was most likely the truth. Is it ethical to share with our children that their parents loved them very much? That they chose life for them and wanted more for them? Absolutely! Is it ethical to say to our kids, "I imagine your mother was..." I think so.

I heard a story this week that will never be shared. It's a story of desperation. It's a story of beginnings and endings. It's a story of how a baby ended up in foster care. I shared with this mom that as an adopted person's point of view, that story must never be shared with her child. It made me think how we can give our kids the best information they need, but make it what they actually need. Do they need every little nitty, gritty detail? No, they need to know what information they need to form their fantasy family in their minds. So often when people ask me why I never found my "birth" parents, I tell them it's because right now, they are OK people who wanted more for me. Finding them could potentially ruin that fantasy. Am I a chicken shit? Probably. But I have a family who loves me and has from day one. What more do I need?

All of this thinking brought me around to an idea I have wanted to do from the beginning, but was:
a) too busy,
2) too overwhelmed, and
III) not emotionally ready.

And that is to begin work on a lifebook for Josh and Jameson.

You can read about Adoption Lifebooks here.

An adoption lifebook which is the story of your child. It's not about you, your adoption journey, your life together. It begins at birth. It includes as much information about birth parents and family as you know. What you don't know, you don't make up, but you include information about what you think is the case. For instance, you may not have specific information about parents or family, but you know the child was taken to an orphanage by a family member who loved them very much and was unable to care for them.

Trust me, it's enough.

In our lifebooks, we will include information about family, culture, about the loving caregivers at the orphanage, about their wonderful friends and the adults who helped them. We will attempt to fill in the gaps and stimulate as much memory as we can. We are not making up memories, we are providing our kids with the information to stimulate their own memories. For instance, we know that Nebiet (the first mother) was a hair braider, so we will do a page about the beautiful braids the Ethiopian women can weave. We will work through it together, to create dialogue between us and them, and hopefully to help heal all of our wounds.

Some great books about Adoption Lifebooks are:
Adoption Lifebook: A Bridge to Your Child's Beginnings
Lifebooks: Creating a Treasure for the Adopted Child
Before You Were Mine

So what do you do?

What do you do with a pre teen boy who hasn't been parented?

What do you do with a pre teen boy who doesn't know how to be parented?

What do you do when you don't know what to do?

My relationship with Josh has had it's ups and downs. We seem to do OK for awhile. And then... boom... I get hit with a dose of reality. Josh does not like to be parented. At least not by me. He takes offense and pouts with every single thing I do. As long as life is going along swimmingly and I don't rock the boat, we do just fine.

Then comes homeschooling long division. And correction about behavior. And punishment.

And in reality, I am the one who suffers the most punishment. I get the glares. The silent treatment. I get ignored. I get ostracized.

Clearly, teaching him how to do long division and how to read is a crime.

We've come a long ways... but clearly, we have a long ways to go.