Great expectations

This has been a lovely vacation.  Not at all like Charles Dickens' too sad novel.  I think the picture above says it all.  Thank you blue skies, thank you sun on my face, thank you palm trees!  And I will say thank you in my underwear (in the privacy of my own home of course).  Did it meet my expectations?  No.  But expectations are funny things.  They mess with our perspective.  And people and situations rarely seem to meet them.  I should have learned by now, that family vacations are not really about me. And that's ok, because we only have 20 odd years worth of vacations with these lovely creatures until we are begging them to vacation with us but they're too busy.  Twenty years of shell hunting, Doritos eating, wet suits on the floor, throw me in the pool again, sibling squabbles, watching toddlers nap vacations.  The day after we set foot in Florida, Meagan got the vomiting flu.  The next day NiNi starting running a fever.  Two sick kids inside on the couch and the beach was screaming my name.  I have to keep reminding myself, slow down.  Meagan is quickly growing into a young woman.  Ethan is looking more like a boy than a baby these days.  NiNi will soon be seven.  Chris has this quote pasted on the wallpaper of his phone, "Be all there."  Stop thinking about what you plan to do later that day or even in the next 10 minutes.  It will all still be there when this moment passes.  So I'm trying to have fewer expectations these days and more moments of gratitude.  I recently finished the book "One Thousand Gifts" by Ann Voskamp and have been dabbling in my own list for the past several months.  A little embarrassed to say that it's taken 6 months to get to 100 things I am thankful for.  Shameful.  But I will say that my awareness of the blessings comes a little easier now, and sometime even at rapid fire...

A husband who sings the loudest at church and is the loudest dad at the pool
Candlelit baths interrupted by toddlers
Matchbox car tracks in my houseplant dirt
A God who is only light, no darkness (not even a little)
A job that gives me an endorphin release on at least a weekly basis
Chocolate faces licking beaters
Tender calm after the kids' emotional storms
Repentance, second-chances and do-overs

For my entire adult life, I have made a list of self improvement goals on January 1 of each year.  I typically achieve very few of them.  But I still make them, because it feels unproductive not to.  Well, not this year.   This year, instead of expectations, I will have reflections.  My one goal is to bask in the blessings of the present.  And hopefully reap some much needed joy and peace.

Mother dreams...

We drove the 2 hour round trip to NiNi's therapist for her last appointment on the books.  For the short term anyway.  We circled up and prayed at the end.  This caused so much gratitude and emotion to well up inside me that I nearly hugged our therapist.  Her treatment ended almost to the day that we embarked on this journey a year ago.  Except a year ago we had a different therapist.  One who worked on "parental attachment techniques" while the parents sat down the hall reading a National Geographic magazine.  Seemed a little counter-intuitive to me too.  And then we found Rick.  Was really quite miraculous the way that we found him (and I don't throw that word around a lot).  But NiNi is not "healed."  We understand her about 150% better than we did a year ago.  We know how to manage her behavior most of them time. But she is not healed.  Still, Chris and I unanimously agree that going to therapy (and in the process radically changing the way we parent) was one of the best decisions we've ever made. And I am super grateful for a few individuals (mom and mother-in-law included) whose support quite literally made this year bearable. But changing the way we parent has also been one of the loneliest decisions.  Everyone's an expert when it comes to parenting advice, and we've heard input that has spanned the gamut. Some of it extremely helpful and some of it not so much.  I think that most people (ourselves included) seem to operate under the assumption that once a traumatized child is in a loving home for a period of time, that somehow the hurts just go away. Even those in the adoption community want so badly to believe this.  Don't we all want to believe that the love we shower on our child will change them, melt them, soothe them.  But somehow it did not work that way for us (and I don't think we are alone in that).  Because you can't fill up a love tank until you figure out how to pry the lid off. And in some cases kids don't show signs of old trauma wounds and grief until their brains are mature enough to process them.  It's called delayed grief and it's all over the child psychology literature.  Now we operate under the assumption that a whole lot of our kids' behavior is likely related the their  trauma.  You would have a hard time convincing me that severe emotional and physical neglect for the first 18 months of a baby's life (when their brains are developing at hyper-speed) does not have lasting effects on a child.  Let alone effects that last more than a year or two.  People do not have bad hearts.  I believe they love us and our kids very much.   And don't we all tend to give advice from our own world view, based on what worked for us.  But still we hear it..."You'll spoil that baby!"  "That one's gonna need medication for sure!"  "She's just too shy"  Strangely, all advice I might have dolled out, back when all I had was a well adjusted biological child. Going against the grain to do what you feel is best for your child still takes a certain amount of courage (and there are mothers much more courageous than I.) I should have a label for "sleep disturbance"on this blog becuase I have written that many posts about the fact that Ethan does not sleep.  For reasons we will probably never know, sleeping and night time was/is a very scary time. Heart racing, sweating, blood curdling scream time. We decided to deal with this by, well, meeting his need for comfort and security. At first he would sleep only against my body. Gradually he has become more secure. Some of the time he now falls asleep in his own bed while we sit in a chair nearby.  I will say that after nearly a year of co-sleeping (in some form or another) we hit a tiny break through. Today as I was putting him down for a nap, he said to me, "I not scared mama." I still tear up at the significace of this. Wow.  Need-meeting really does produce a less "needy," more secure kid.  I am not saying we have a corner on parenting adopted children. Far from it. We still throw our hands up just as much as the next person.  And, please, still offer us advice that is sensitive to our kids' histories. I think that more this post is about making a decision to not parent out of fear. A tall order. What if they never get into college?  Never have a satisfying career?  Never marry?   But I've realized that, more than scholarships and soccer stars, I want them to be "relationship" people.  This is my new and improved "mother's dream" for them.  That they would feel compassion (we are just now seeing this develop with NiNi and she is almost 7 years old), feel safe with another human being and that safety lead to vulnerability, connect with their father and I and ultimately with God, enjoy the people in their "present" without constantly reliving their past, delight in delighting others.  A life that is void of those things is a very scary proposition. So yeah, I guess "spoiled" is a consequence we are willing to accept.  Having a kid who doesn't know how to receive or give love is not.  Just feeling hopeful today that we are headed in the right direction.

Let them eat pop tarts!

You might say we have always tended to be more authoritarian in our parenting style.  Obey the first time, absolute and unconditional respect for authority, and (unfortunately) less emphasis on grace.  And I think the vast majority of evangelical Christians have a similar approach.  Because there is nothing more un-Christian-like than having bratty kids.  And I would tend to agree with this notion, if all of our spanking, grounding, and demands for obedience had actually produced more respectful kids.  Now don't get me wrong, I have great kids, but I would not say they are the "fall in line" type.  Obedience is important but is it really the ultimate goal of our parenting?  The other day, Meagan and I had an argument about pop-tarts.  I like for the kids to eat healthy.  They like to eat junk food.  We were at the store and Meagan really wanted some chocolate fudge frosted pop-tarts.  After a 5 minute lecture on the evil and not-even-breakfast-like qualities of pop tarts, I reluctantly agreed to compromise and get her the fruit-filled, unfrosted ones.  "How about fruit-filled with frosting on them?" she asked.  No.  No frosting.  "But I don't even like strawberry."  Too bad.  Strawberry it is.  No frosting.  In the cart, through the checkout, silence during the van ride home, and back to business as usual.  As I reflected on it later, I thought, God would have bought her the darn chocolate pop tarts.  He loves giving us gifts.  In fact the Bible says he at times lavishes them upon us, seemingly without fear of spoiling us.  He tells us we are special and loved, even though that might go to our head.  He lays out his commands but forgives us when we blow it.  Which, if you're me, happens several times a day.  God makes the relationship his top priority.  What a great dad.  He takes a risk that if he speaks tenderly to us, loves us, draws us in, melts our hearts....that we will want to obey him.  But won't people take advantage of all that grace and disobey anyway?  Yes.  But God never changes his stance.  I believe because relationship is still the strongest and most lasting motivation for obedience.   Makes me want to parent that way.  As I once heard someone say, someday your kids will be too big to spank and your relationship is all you'll have.  Ultimately I want my kids to feel like they were the most important thing to me...not my to do list, not my job and certainly not what's on the breakfast menu. 

Blessed

It's 11:44pm.   My husband and children are sound asleep and I am eating an entire bag of kettle cooked potato chips in perfect blissful silence.  This post has been a long time in coming.  And honestly I have been so busy that I haven't had time to think much about how I feel. Have I mentioned before my burning desire to simplify my life?  Well, it hasn't happened.  Work is crazy....reports, clients coming in and out, conferences.  Chris has traveled some.  Not a ton, but 3 days here, 4 days there, enough for me to feel the burden of being sole caregiver for awhile.  We have been in a holding pattern with NiNi, waiting for the therapy appointment...not quite sure what to do so, at times, just letting chaos reign.  And Ethan continues to baffle us with his hyper-drive speed.  I know he's a boy, but I am around toddler boys quite a bit, and his "activeness"(for lack of a better word) is unique.  He recently qualified for the developmental preschool (preschool for special needs kids) and I had some strange emotions surface.  All this time I have been telling myself that only his language skills are delayed, but, in reality, he likely has some other stuff going on too. And most days keeping up with the house, laundry, cooking and dishes is just a losing battle.  But we have nothing if we don't have perspective!  My children do not have a terminal disease, we are not homeless, jobless, or friendless.  I try to have a little Bible study with Meagan each morning and the other day it was Matthew 5.  It begins with the Beatitudes...Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted, etc.   Meagan looked incredulous and said, "What does that mean?"  I tried to sound confident and came up with some semi-lame explanation, but later asked myself the same question.  Do I really understand what Jesus is talking about?  It does seem rather counter-intuitive.  Are the poor really better off?  Those who grieve, are they really closer to God?  But when I stop and think of the tremendous truths God is revealing, things come into clearer focus.  And I can even pen a few beatitudes of my own.  Ok, not nearly as wise and poetic as the words of Jesus, but you get the idea.

Blessed are you when life is a mess...

Ethan still struggles to really "play" with toys, preferring instead to just tear through the house...pulling dishes out of the dishwasher, DVD's out of the cabinet, playing the "dump" game with baskets of toys, pulling clothes out of drawers, etc.  Cleaning up after him is like shoveling snow while it's still snowing.  The other day I proposed a breakfast picnic...on the floor because last night's dinner dishes were still on the table and lunch dishes were still in the sink.  Lots of people say, "oh my house is such a mess."  But this is the real deal.  And it bothers me.  House in order = life in order, right?  Last weekend was Easter and I volunteered to have dinner at my house (after just coming back from Cincinnati and then a full work week)  I started cooking and cleaning on Friday night and 24 hours later, the house was not clean.  Oh, we were cleaning, but Ethan was faster.  As I was frantically trying to finish up before church (not enjoying my kids, not watching them with their Easter baskets, not playing with them) it hit me.  People will still love me and likely have a good time whether my house is clean or not!  Let them embrace the mess!  It was quite liberating.  So we had Easter.  With Cheerios on the carpet (my nephew commenting, "Wow that's a lot of Cheerios" right before got down on his knees and picked them up himself), a large pile of junk mail in the corner, and no pretty place settings.  It's a little humbling that I cannot do it all.  But that is the blessing... my heart can be perfectly at rest even when my ducks are not in row, or even all in the same pond.

Blessed are you when your kids are emotionally needy...

There.  I said it.  It sounds a little harsh but I don't mean it that way.  Aren't we all incredibly needy?  We need words of affirmation, we need affection (but don't smother me now), we need "me" time, we need "we" time, we need adventure, and the list goes on and on.  Our parenting philosophy with Meagan was that she would fit nicely into our already established routine.  Sort of like a piece of furniture.  And amazingly she did.  She slept when we wanted her to sleep, ate when we wanted her to eat, played quietly, and looked cute for our friends.  We mused to ourselves, "I don't know what's wrong with everyone else, but we have this parenting thing nailed!"  Let's just say over the past 6 years we have felt less and less confident.  At times I feel resentful.  Why can't they just fall in line.  Without techniques, without costly expert advice, without all the heaviness.  But I look at mine and NiNi's relationship today and I can't believe what I almost missed.  I almost missed getting to know her.  Her deepest fears (and what calms them), what makes her feel loved, how her brain works, her sense of humor.  My kids are exquisitely complex and fascinating creatures.  Two of them had whole separate lives before they met me.  It is irresponsible and just plain sad if I don't spend the time and energy to know them completely, instead of just figuring out how to fit them into my life.  And I know our relationship is richer as a result.

I'll stop before this post turns into an essay, but next week begins our 2 week attachment training.  Somehow I think there will be a part II to this topic...

the ever elusive zzzz's

So after a year home and 365 quiet and peaceful nights, Ethan has given up sleep.  We had a nice routine going.  We rocked, we read books, we drank warm milk, we turned on his cute little turtle...the one that projects stars onto the ceiling.  At this point he would usually point to his crib and say "night night" with a sleepy smile on his face.  No fussing, no crying, just snuggling into his pillow and that was all she wrote.  Well, ain't nobody getting a good night's sleep these days except that blasted turtle.  He is waking 2-3 times per night crying inconsolably.  We have tried milk, food, lights on, lights off, door open, door closed, music on, music off, humidifier, Tylenol, and yes (shame) even a little Benedryl.  The only thing that really works is to sandwich him between two warm bodies...any two will do.  It's like he just needs to be close.  When Meagan was a toddler I turned up my nose at my co-sleeping friends who obviously lacked boundaries and just plain old good sense.  But now?  Not so much.  Not sure if I am older and wiser or just older and tired, but is it really such a terrible thing to allow your child to sleep with you?  Think about it.  Night time can be a pretty lonely time of day.  Don't we, as adults, prefer to sleep snuggled up to our spouse instead of alone?  I recently read that co-sleeping was the norm in all societies prior to the 1700's.  And many people in other countries still co-sleep with their children out of necessity (think entire family sleeping in one small room).  And most of those kids don't grow up to be sissies or axe-murderers.  See....deprive yourself of sleep for 8 weeks and co-sleeping will begin to seem reasonable to you as well!

Making connections

So it appears I am slowly morphing into one of those "prairie moms" who have always perplexed me so.  You know, the kind who make their own yogurt and sew sassy reusable shopping bags (right after they turn over the compost pile in the backyard)?  No homemade yogurt yet, but I do find myself spending more time in the kitchen than ever in my adult life.  And the truth is I kind of like it.  When we converted to a mostly plant-based diet, I had no idea that my beloved "convenience foods" would be a thing of the past.  We seldom order pizza anymore.  Now, pizza for dinner means making the dough, the sauce and the toppings.  If we want brownies, they come from a bag of flour, not a box.  After a long day at work, all that chopping, mixing, and slow-cooking was a little overwhelming.  But along with producing better-tasting, healthier dinners, something else started to happen.  The kids turned off the TV and made their way into the kitchen too: "Whatcha doin?"  Ethan likes to sit and peer through the tiny window in the bread machine watching it mix the dough.  NiNi is an expert dumper and stirer of ingredients.  Meagan can now make several components of a dinner all by herself....including corn bread from scratch.  And we are making connections while we cook.  Talking, laughing and playing.  Some of my fondest childhood memories are of sitting on the kitchen counter while my mom taught me to make a pie crust or whip mashed potatoes.   Making pie crust is not a great feat, but my point is that "kitchen" arts have been somewhat lost in my generation.  And in many ways, family connections right along with them.  Don't get me wrong, many days dinner preparation still consists of a hurried, stressed out mom and bickering kids.  But we are learning so much about really "being" with the kids, whether that means making a batch of pancakes or telling stories or having a tickle fest.  Too often our definition of quality time was being present in the same room, watching a movie or having them in the car while I run errands.  Physically together, but not emotionally close.  As NiNi's emotional issues surfaced we have seen how much of it stems from her anxiety and her need to be close to us.  This may all seem like a no-brainer to most of you, but let me tell you it has been a huge paradigm shift for me.  It has meant turning off my computer (including emails, blogging and facebook) until the kids are in bed.  Ignoring the "beep" every time a text comes through on my phone (Honestly, what did we do before people were immediately accessible 24 hours a day through an electronic device which has become an extra body part?)  And actually playing with the kids on their terms.  The other day NiNi and I played with dolls for almost an hour.  Once I forgot about all the things I wanted to get done, I think I had more fun than she did.  I am learning to break up the love affair with my 'to do' list...and to value connecting over doing.  I think I know the effect all of this will have on my hobbies and the cleanliness of my house but I'm pretty sure it's worth it (and let's face it my house was not all that clean to begin with)!