Halloween happened and Rex seemed to enjoy it. No need to leave out the candy bowl and shut off the lights. Rex was handing out candy until the very end. While Colette and Asia trick-or-treated (Asia was a rock star), Rex and I manned our house. As kids came to the door, I held Rex while he dropped one piece of candy into each person's receptacle. He wasn't affected by any of the costumes, not the werewolf, not the skeleton, not even the Teletubby.
At one point I smelled something sour and realized Rex needed his diaper changed. I put him on the rug in the downstairs bathroom, and tried to finish the job before the door bell rang. Then the door bell rang. I quickly wiped him clean, but the door bell rang a second time. "Sure, I can do this quickly, no problem," I thought. Up to that point the biggest group of visitors was three, which didn't take very long. I was confident I could make the deposits and be back with Rex in no time.
I asked him to stay there, then I grabbed the candy bowl and ran to the front door. Whoa, ten kids. I went as fast as I could, dropping candy into each bag, slightly acknowledging each one's "Trick-or-Treat" greeting or thank you, when all of a sudden Rex trotted to the door, no diaper, no pants. It's a good thing his shirt hung extra low or the neighborhood would be talking about our boy's "questionable" costume or saying things like, "So that's what it's like in the Philippines." Oh, and by the way, if you got candy from our home, and you find melted chocolate on it, it's probably not melted chocolate.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Friday, October 30, 2009
Day 35: Preparing for Halloween
Tomorrow is Halloween and for Rex, this is either good or bad. He could go either way. My grandma suggested we prepare Rex for the occasion because as far as we know, he has no previous experience with the holiday. That was a good idea, and I hope our efforts pay off, even though they were minimal. Colette brought Rex to the Halloween Parade at Asia's school, and he got the idea--kids put on different clothes and march around like they're who or what their costume suggests. He did fine with it.
But that was at Asia's school, which as far as he knows, is very far away because you have to drive to it. It's one thing for robots and fairies and pirates and divas to be at her school; it's another for them to be at our house. I mean, this is Rex' safe place, the spot he knows really well, a steady constant in his life. How will he react to all these strangers knocking? And more, what will he do when I actually open the door?
We think it's better for him to stay home than go door-to-door, so Colette and Asia will get candy and Rex and I will give it out. I do wonder if he'll understand that this is just for a night, not all the time. When, say the day after, someone knocks on the door, will he give away our remote control or our cat because he couldn't find any proper candy? Will he always give away our shoes to the UPS man? I hope not. I need my remote control. I will be observing how Rex is doing, and should it be too much, I'll dump the candy in a bowl, leave a note, and turn off the lights. It's more important to protect the sacred space than to entertain strangers.
But that was at Asia's school, which as far as he knows, is very far away because you have to drive to it. It's one thing for robots and fairies and pirates and divas to be at her school; it's another for them to be at our house. I mean, this is Rex' safe place, the spot he knows really well, a steady constant in his life. How will he react to all these strangers knocking? And more, what will he do when I actually open the door?
We think it's better for him to stay home than go door-to-door, so Colette and Asia will get candy and Rex and I will give it out. I do wonder if he'll understand that this is just for a night, not all the time. When, say the day after, someone knocks on the door, will he give away our remote control or our cat because he couldn't find any proper candy? Will he always give away our shoes to the UPS man? I hope not. I need my remote control. I will be observing how Rex is doing, and should it be too much, I'll dump the candy in a bowl, leave a note, and turn off the lights. It's more important to protect the sacred space than to entertain strangers.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Day 34: Meet and Greet at the Park
This afternoon I left work early to see a movie with Asia. I wanted to do something special with her since Rex has gotten extra attention lately. After that, I took Rex and Asia to the park so Colette could rake our yard. I definitely got the better deal. We have so many leaves that if you named each one, you'd run out of names, not just normal names like Mike and Jen, but also weirdo ones that artists, musicians and dreamers have named their kids, names like River, Apple, Moon Unit, Blanket, and yes, Leif.
At the park, I saw several people I knew, who all happened to be mommies. As I assessed my situation, I realized there were like ten or twelve mommies there, all with their kids, and I was the only daddy. Was this a mommy convention or something? Would they all start breastfeeding at once? One of my friends informed me that this was the official "Meet and Greet at the Park," which happens on a regular basis from 2:30 - 4:30. I had come for the Meet and Greet and didn't even know it.
What kind of man comes to a Meet and Greet where there are only mommies? I made sure to show off my wedding ring just so no one got any funny ideas about my intentions. I was not trying to pick up a mommy. I am married to one, and believe me, one is enough. And so I played with Rex and Asia, and tried not to make eye contact with anyone, and spoke often of how I wish their mommy was here to see how much fun they were having. I didn't say that instead of being here, their mommy was at home, naming all the leaves in our yard. That would have drawn a crowd, and a crowd of mommies is not what I was looking for.
At the park, I saw several people I knew, who all happened to be mommies. As I assessed my situation, I realized there were like ten or twelve mommies there, all with their kids, and I was the only daddy. Was this a mommy convention or something? Would they all start breastfeeding at once? One of my friends informed me that this was the official "Meet and Greet at the Park," which happens on a regular basis from 2:30 - 4:30. I had come for the Meet and Greet and didn't even know it.
What kind of man comes to a Meet and Greet where there are only mommies? I made sure to show off my wedding ring just so no one got any funny ideas about my intentions. I was not trying to pick up a mommy. I am married to one, and believe me, one is enough. And so I played with Rex and Asia, and tried not to make eye contact with anyone, and spoke often of how I wish their mommy was here to see how much fun they were having. I didn't say that instead of being here, their mommy was at home, naming all the leaves in our yard. That would have drawn a crowd, and a crowd of mommies is not what I was looking for.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Day 33: I Want to Understand
Ever since we got Rex, our family sticks out in public. Our adoption trainer said we would, and we thought it might be a possibility, but you don't know for sure until it happens. Let me tell you--it happens. Today Colette was buying Halloween candy with the kids and she got stares from several different people. They weren't friendly stares either. They were searching stares, scorning stares, stares of people trying to figure out why this woman was with these two children who didn't look alike.
I had the same thing happen too. I was playing with Rex and Asia in a public sandbox. People would look at me, then at the kids, then back at me, trying to process what they were seeing. They would curl their lips and squint their eyes suspiciously as if they were investigators who just came upon a crime scene. Why does it make me feel guilty, like I have to explain the situation? Why do I get self-conscious and want to show them our adoption papers? I don't owe any strangers an explanation, but I find myself wanting to offer one.
Tonight Colette said to me, "It's easier for people to judge than to understand." She nailed it. I was feeling judged, and she was feeling judged by the shifty glances of those around us. And yet, it made me think about all the times I've had shifty eyes myself. I took Colette's statement on: "It's easier for me to judge than to understand," because it's true. That's the tatoo I should have gotten on Day 30. In my life, I've made the most unfair judgments about people I barely knew, all generated in an instant. I don't want to be that way. I don't want to make people feel the way others have made us feel. I want to understand.
I had the same thing happen too. I was playing with Rex and Asia in a public sandbox. People would look at me, then at the kids, then back at me, trying to process what they were seeing. They would curl their lips and squint their eyes suspiciously as if they were investigators who just came upon a crime scene. Why does it make me feel guilty, like I have to explain the situation? Why do I get self-conscious and want to show them our adoption papers? I don't owe any strangers an explanation, but I find myself wanting to offer one.
Tonight Colette said to me, "It's easier for people to judge than to understand." She nailed it. I was feeling judged, and she was feeling judged by the shifty glances of those around us. And yet, it made me think about all the times I've had shifty eyes myself. I took Colette's statement on: "It's easier for me to judge than to understand," because it's true. That's the tatoo I should have gotten on Day 30. In my life, I've made the most unfair judgments about people I barely knew, all generated in an instant. I don't want to be that way. I don't want to make people feel the way others have made us feel. I want to understand.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Day 32: Why the Philippines?
People have asked us, "Why the Philippines?" and it's a valid question. We didn't wake up one day and decide to raise a Filipino child. Actually, when we started to investigate international adoption, we had another country in mind, chosen because it was supposed to be one of the quickest countries for adoption. We wanted another child so badly--felt desperate for one--and so the quickest deal seemed to be the only option. But my dad stepped in with some sagely advice, "Your country needs to be the one God leads you to, regardless of how long it takes." He was right. And so we started asking God what country He chose for us.
That's when we came upon the Philippines, or rather, the Philippines came upon us. God reminded us that years before, someone had said God would use us in southeast Asia. We believed her at the time, and sort of filed it away for the future. Was the future here? The Philippines was one of the countries our adoption agency worked with, and it was in southeast Asia, but it was also one of the slowest for adoptions. Nice. When we asked God what He thought, did we really want to know?
There are moments in life when you learn the truth about how something will be, no matter how undesirable or different than you had hoped, and you dig in and accept the outcome. You choose the harder road because even though you know it's the harder road, you also know it's the better road. That's when we chose the Philippines. We realized this was one such moment, and we needed to choose the better road. That's not to say the better road is always the harder road; sometimes the better road is the easier road; but sometimes it's not. That's just life. Our road led to Manila to a boy named Rex, which is why we chose the Philippines.
That's when we came upon the Philippines, or rather, the Philippines came upon us. God reminded us that years before, someone had said God would use us in southeast Asia. We believed her at the time, and sort of filed it away for the future. Was the future here? The Philippines was one of the countries our adoption agency worked with, and it was in southeast Asia, but it was also one of the slowest for adoptions. Nice. When we asked God what He thought, did we really want to know?
There are moments in life when you learn the truth about how something will be, no matter how undesirable or different than you had hoped, and you dig in and accept the outcome. You choose the harder road because even though you know it's the harder road, you also know it's the better road. That's when we chose the Philippines. We realized this was one such moment, and we needed to choose the better road. That's not to say the better road is always the harder road; sometimes the better road is the easier road; but sometimes it's not. That's just life. Our road led to Manila to a boy named Rex, which is why we chose the Philippines.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Day 31: My Boy's Got Skills
I've written before that some adopted kids come with instructions, like Rex did, which is an advantage. I've discovered another advantage. Rex has skills, already. He's very good at certain things that we never taught him. When he showed up at our house, he just started doing them. I don't know if his foster family taught him these things, or if he showed up at their house doing them too, carryover skills from the orphanage.
The first is praying at mealtime. When one of us says, "Time to pray," the boy gently folds his hands and bows his head. If Colette, Asia or I aren't at the table at that exact time, he'll say, "Mommy, pray" or "Asia, pray" and so forth and keeps saying it until whoever is missing makes their way to the table. His request becomes more insistent the longer it takes for the whole family to be at the table. Sometimes he's slightly yelling at the person who is not praying. He'll be really good at making altar calls or tele-evangelizing someday.
Rex is also really good at cleaning up. He can mess up a room like the toys have to be played with or they'll dissolve at the end of the day, but when it's clean-up time, he's committed. He places the toys in their proper place, saying goodbye to them. That's another thing he's good at--saying goodbye. When it's time to go to bed, he'll say, "Goodbye Asia, goodbye Mommy, goodbye kitty." And it doesn't stop there: "Goodbye balloon, goodbye duckie, goodbye shower." It's like he's used to saying goodbye. My boy's got skills.
The first is praying at mealtime. When one of us says, "Time to pray," the boy gently folds his hands and bows his head. If Colette, Asia or I aren't at the table at that exact time, he'll say, "Mommy, pray" or "Asia, pray" and so forth and keeps saying it until whoever is missing makes their way to the table. His request becomes more insistent the longer it takes for the whole family to be at the table. Sometimes he's slightly yelling at the person who is not praying. He'll be really good at making altar calls or tele-evangelizing someday.
Rex is also really good at cleaning up. He can mess up a room like the toys have to be played with or they'll dissolve at the end of the day, but when it's clean-up time, he's committed. He places the toys in their proper place, saying goodbye to them. That's another thing he's good at--saying goodbye. When it's time to go to bed, he'll say, "Goodbye Asia, goodbye Mommy, goodbye kitty." And it doesn't stop there: "Goodbye balloon, goodbye duckie, goodbye shower." It's like he's used to saying goodbye. My boy's got skills.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Day 30: Hibachi Celebration
We decided to do something special to celebrate Day 30 of our Adoption Year, and since the tattoo place was closed, we settled on a Japanese hibachi dinner. We thought Rex would appreciate cooking that was familiar--at least from the same continent--as well as waiters who look like him more than we do. The four of us took our seats around the big hibachi grill, ordered, and were soon eating our appetizers. Rex loved his soup, and as I looked around at my happy family, I sighed satisfyingly. This was a good idea.
We had four, maybe five minutes of bliss until the chef sprayed oil on his grill and lit the thing on fire. Even before the flames exploded and we could feel the heat on our faces, Rex started wailing. I quickly grabbed Rex from his high chair and held him close, turning him away from the evil grill. Soon he calmed down--I had distracted him with chopsticks--and he could once again face the chef. The chef seemed to be prepared for this kind of reaction because he held up a little man and said, "No pwoblem, he put out fire-ah." Then he squeezed the little man and water sprayed out, right into Rex' face.
Nice, thanks Iron Chef. Rex started crying again, and so Colette moved him over with her, the farthest away from Iron Chef as possible. He apologized to me and all I was thinking was, "I hope you don't throw broccoli at my boy." I've eaten here before and that's part of their thing. They throw broccoli at you and you try to catch it in your mouth. Well, thank God he caught on and didn't toss any vegetables at Rex. He must have attended sensitivity training, which taught him that if first the fire scares the boy, and then if spraying water in his face doesn't fix it, then you skip hurling broccoli at him. After Iron Chef left, Rex calmed down, ate his whole meal, and we had a lovely time. Maybe next time I'll settle for the tattoo.
We had four, maybe five minutes of bliss until the chef sprayed oil on his grill and lit the thing on fire. Even before the flames exploded and we could feel the heat on our faces, Rex started wailing. I quickly grabbed Rex from his high chair and held him close, turning him away from the evil grill. Soon he calmed down--I had distracted him with chopsticks--and he could once again face the chef. The chef seemed to be prepared for this kind of reaction because he held up a little man and said, "No pwoblem, he put out fire-ah." Then he squeezed the little man and water sprayed out, right into Rex' face.
Nice, thanks Iron Chef. Rex started crying again, and so Colette moved him over with her, the farthest away from Iron Chef as possible. He apologized to me and all I was thinking was, "I hope you don't throw broccoli at my boy." I've eaten here before and that's part of their thing. They throw broccoli at you and you try to catch it in your mouth. Well, thank God he caught on and didn't toss any vegetables at Rex. He must have attended sensitivity training, which taught him that if first the fire scares the boy, and then if spraying water in his face doesn't fix it, then you skip hurling broccoli at him. After Iron Chef left, Rex calmed down, ate his whole meal, and we had a lovely time. Maybe next time I'll settle for the tattoo.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Day 29: Micro bonding
These days I'm thinking a lot about bonding. Because we've started at bonding level zero with a two year-old, I actually think it's most helpful to focus on what I'm calling micro bonding. I don't know if that term has ever been applied in this context. The quick research I've done shows that micro bonding is used in industries such as haircare, engineering, and manufacturing. Now I'm extending it to the world of adoption.
You've heard of micro brewing? Micro brewing is producing only a limited amount of beer. A micro brewery's output is smaller than a regular brewery's output. You might have heard of micro blogging. Micro blogging is distributing very short updates through some type of technology platform. A micro blog's output is smaller than a regular blog's output. And so with micro bonding, the principle is the same--reduced-sized compared to the original.
Now, you might argue that any kind of bonding is still in fact bonding and why make the distinction. I agree it is, but when you're building an adoptive relationship, it's a matter of baby steps, not big ones. You've gotta have reasonable stuff to shoot for and celebrate, and most often, it's on the micro level. A micro bonding goal is not to have your child call you Daddy or Mommy exclusively, but to do it for, an afternoon. It's not for you to translate every foreign word he says, but to know what his facial expression means, now. It's when, in this moment, he opens his arms to his parent rather than reaching for a stranger. In micro bonding, the small stuff is the big stuff, these giant leaps toward eachother.
You've heard of micro brewing? Micro brewing is producing only a limited amount of beer. A micro brewery's output is smaller than a regular brewery's output. You might have heard of micro blogging. Micro blogging is distributing very short updates through some type of technology platform. A micro blog's output is smaller than a regular blog's output. And so with micro bonding, the principle is the same--reduced-sized compared to the original.
Now, you might argue that any kind of bonding is still in fact bonding and why make the distinction. I agree it is, but when you're building an adoptive relationship, it's a matter of baby steps, not big ones. You've gotta have reasonable stuff to shoot for and celebrate, and most often, it's on the micro level. A micro bonding goal is not to have your child call you Daddy or Mommy exclusively, but to do it for, an afternoon. It's not for you to translate every foreign word he says, but to know what his facial expression means, now. It's when, in this moment, he opens his arms to his parent rather than reaching for a stranger. In micro bonding, the small stuff is the big stuff, these giant leaps toward eachother.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Day 28: Chronological Age vs. Family Age
There's a difference between chronological age and family age. Chronological age is, as you might guess, the literal age of a person. It's the amount of time they've been on the earth. Family age is, however, the amount of time a person has been in a particular family. In Rex' case, his chronological age is two years--almost three--while his family age is one month. He had achieved an older family age with his foster family, but had to start over with us. (If you're looking for the fountain of youth, just switch families and you can begin again).
Sometimes family age is more important than chronological age. For example, bonding. Think about what usually happens at one month of chronological age. Mommy is literally in the baby's face. She gets really close, makes exaggerated facial guestures, and gawgaws funny sounds. If she's feeding him, by breast or by bottle, they're sharing the same intimate space. She holds him when he's awake, rocks him to sleep, and comforts him when he cries. All this nurturing builds a strong bond between Mommy and baby. He knows he's safe, so he can seek some healthy independence, but still return to his Mommy because of the foundation they've built.
Although Rex is two years old chronologically, we haven't had two years of bonding with him; we're only at one month in family age. And so we're doing now with Rex what we would do with a one month-old. Colette sits with him and rocks him when he drinks his bottle at night. She looks into his eyes and tells him how precious he is. When I bathe him, I get really close to his face, and speak to him gently. I hold him as much as I can (my love handles are substitute lady hips) and I let him rest his head on my shoulder. We're making up for lost time.
Sometimes family age is more important than chronological age. For example, bonding. Think about what usually happens at one month of chronological age. Mommy is literally in the baby's face. She gets really close, makes exaggerated facial guestures, and gawgaws funny sounds. If she's feeding him, by breast or by bottle, they're sharing the same intimate space. She holds him when he's awake, rocks him to sleep, and comforts him when he cries. All this nurturing builds a strong bond between Mommy and baby. He knows he's safe, so he can seek some healthy independence, but still return to his Mommy because of the foundation they've built.
Although Rex is two years old chronologically, we haven't had two years of bonding with him; we're only at one month in family age. And so we're doing now with Rex what we would do with a one month-old. Colette sits with him and rocks him when he drinks his bottle at night. She looks into his eyes and tells him how precious he is. When I bathe him, I get really close to his face, and speak to him gently. I hold him as much as I can (my love handles are substitute lady hips) and I let him rest his head on my shoulder. We're making up for lost time.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Day 27: Family History
One advantage Asia has over Rex is her knowledge of family history. I realized this tonight when our family went on an evening bike ride. Asia's bike was connected to Colette's bike and Rex rode in a toddler seat attached to my bike. At one point Colette and I decided to switch bikes, but as soon as Colette climbed on, Rex started to cry, so we switched back, and he stopped crying. Here's when I realized Rex doesn't know our family history. If he did, his response would have been different. You see, I don't have a good record with bikes.
I threw up on my first bike ride with Colette, which also happened to be our first date. Later in the day I wiped out on a gravel path, although that wasn't as embarrassing as the fact that I was wearing an extra pair of her spandex shorts because I didn't have any. At the end of the day when she said I could keep them, I really felt we had a connection. Either that or she didn't want to hassle with washing them.
Several years later I almost knocked Asia off the bike we were sharing. Colette had warned me to go slowly over the curb, but for some reason, I forgot. Colette was behind us and all she saw was Asia's body lifting off the seat, head bobbing in the air, and then her body pounding down back onto the seat. All she heard was the clunk of the bike landing on the ground and then screams of terror coming from her child. Asia hasn't gotten on a bike with me since. Rex has a lot of family history to catch up on. Don't worry; he'll learn.
I threw up on my first bike ride with Colette, which also happened to be our first date. Later in the day I wiped out on a gravel path, although that wasn't as embarrassing as the fact that I was wearing an extra pair of her spandex shorts because I didn't have any. At the end of the day when she said I could keep them, I really felt we had a connection. Either that or she didn't want to hassle with washing them.
Several years later I almost knocked Asia off the bike we were sharing. Colette had warned me to go slowly over the curb, but for some reason, I forgot. Colette was behind us and all she saw was Asia's body lifting off the seat, head bobbing in the air, and then her body pounding down back onto the seat. All she heard was the clunk of the bike landing on the ground and then screams of terror coming from her child. Asia hasn't gotten on a bike with me since. Rex has a lot of family history to catch up on. Don't worry; he'll learn.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Day 26: Not Much Else Matters
It feels like we found the buried treasure and now that we have, not much else matters. Before getting Rex, we were very motivated to follow the next steps in the process. We had to get fingerprints in Philadelphia, so we drove to Philadelphia. We had to schedule a psychological exam, so we showed up and bared our souls. We had to fork out adoption fees, so we wrote out the checks. You know how it goes when you're fixed on something--you do the work early or right on time.
When we were cleared to travel, we had our plane tickets that same day. When we had to send pictures, we cleared our schedule to be photographed. When our case workers emailed, we replied back immediately. We didn't hesitate to do our part. It seemed like the quicker we acted, the quicker we'd be with Rex. We were focused, we were ready, we were chasing buried treasure. But then something happened to slow us down. We got Rex.
Suddenly things didn't seem so urgent anymore. Suddenly emails from our case workers didn't cause my palms to sweat. Suddenly letters from the Embassy didn't cause my heart to speed. Suddenly, the rush, it all stopped. I stopped regarding days as things to get through and started enjoying them. I stopped explaining to Asia what a brother is and watched her find out for herself. I stopped imagining Colette with a son and saw it happen. And I, I stopped planning things for my boy and started doing them with him. We still have steps to take to complete the adoption, but we're not moving as fast as we once did, because when you have the treasure, not much else matters.
When we were cleared to travel, we had our plane tickets that same day. When we had to send pictures, we cleared our schedule to be photographed. When our case workers emailed, we replied back immediately. We didn't hesitate to do our part. It seemed like the quicker we acted, the quicker we'd be with Rex. We were focused, we were ready, we were chasing buried treasure. But then something happened to slow us down. We got Rex.
Suddenly things didn't seem so urgent anymore. Suddenly emails from our case workers didn't cause my palms to sweat. Suddenly letters from the Embassy didn't cause my heart to speed. Suddenly, the rush, it all stopped. I stopped regarding days as things to get through and started enjoying them. I stopped explaining to Asia what a brother is and watched her find out for herself. I stopped imagining Colette with a son and saw it happen. And I, I stopped planning things for my boy and started doing them with him. We still have steps to take to complete the adoption, but we're not moving as fast as we once did, because when you have the treasure, not much else matters.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Day 25: Adoption Visit #1
Tonight we had our first adoption visit with our case worker. We didn't know what to expect, if she'd check our house for bare wires and rabid racoons and quicksand, or if she'd just ask questions. When she pulled into the driveway, memories of our first meeting over two years ago filled my mind--it was good to see her. Kelli had been the gate, the entry point into the entire adoption process. It was Kelli who was our first contact, Kelli who filed our home study, Kelli who trained us. It would also be Kelli who will make three visits and file three reports, which will ultimately lead to the finalization of our adoption.
To start off, Colette played with the kids outside while I met with Kelli inside. She asked questions about the trip, the placement appointment, and our first days together. She asked how Rex seemed to be adjusting to us, special moments between Rex and me, Asia's relationship with Rex, how work is going, medical questions, nutrition questions, sleeping questions. She asked if we've left Rex alone with anyone yet (I said no), if he's learning English words (I said yes), and if we've had discipline breakthroughs (I said definitely).
When Rex was ready for bed, I went upstairs, Colette sat with Kelli downstairs, and Asia watched TV in the other room. I don't know what questions Kelli asked her, but I did hear some talk about phasing in childcare and making time for Mommy. Kelli's family adopted a girl from Cambodia, and she had great advice, things like, "Give it a year," and "Don't try to be a martyr" and "Don't be surprised if siblings love each other one moment and hate each other the next." All in all, it was a good visit, and I think we'll get a good report. We locked the racoons in the basement.
To start off, Colette played with the kids outside while I met with Kelli inside. She asked questions about the trip, the placement appointment, and our first days together. She asked how Rex seemed to be adjusting to us, special moments between Rex and me, Asia's relationship with Rex, how work is going, medical questions, nutrition questions, sleeping questions. She asked if we've left Rex alone with anyone yet (I said no), if he's learning English words (I said yes), and if we've had discipline breakthroughs (I said definitely).
When Rex was ready for bed, I went upstairs, Colette sat with Kelli downstairs, and Asia watched TV in the other room. I don't know what questions Kelli asked her, but I did hear some talk about phasing in childcare and making time for Mommy. Kelli's family adopted a girl from Cambodia, and she had great advice, things like, "Give it a year," and "Don't try to be a martyr" and "Don't be surprised if siblings love each other one moment and hate each other the next." All in all, it was a good visit, and I think we'll get a good report. We locked the racoons in the basement.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Day 24: A Guarantee from God
The other day I was having lunch with a friend and we were talking about our adoption. During the course of the conversation, he said, "When things get hard, remember your call from God." Of the stuff he says, usually half is goofy nonsense (one April Fool's Day he had a doctor friend put a fake cast on his leg and he convinced everyone including his wife that he broke his leg), but this pearl came from the other half, the half upon which I remember, ruminate, and act. His family adopted a teenager from China, so he knew what he was talking about.
When we need to be reminded of God's call, we don't have to look far. On October 20, 2007, our home study was approved, which means we were officially certified to adopt. On October 20, 2008, the courts in the Philippines declared Rex an abandoned child, which officially made him adoptable. And tomorrow, on October 20, 2009, our case worker will visit our home to file her first progress report. After three reports, Rex will officially be ours. Oh, and October 20 is my birthday.
On June 9, 2009, the state of Pennsylvania approved us to bring an orphan into our state. June 9 is Asia's birthday. On July 3, 2009, the United States Customs and Immigration Service received all of our approved paperwork and certifications. July 3 is Colette's birthday. And on September 11, 2009, Rex had his appointment at the U.S. Embassy in Manila to receive his passport and travel visa. September 11 is my dad's birthday. Over the course of an adoption, these are all major milestones, happening on our birthdays. I'd call that a guarantee.
When we need to be reminded of God's call, we don't have to look far. On October 20, 2007, our home study was approved, which means we were officially certified to adopt. On October 20, 2008, the courts in the Philippines declared Rex an abandoned child, which officially made him adoptable. And tomorrow, on October 20, 2009, our case worker will visit our home to file her first progress report. After three reports, Rex will officially be ours. Oh, and October 20 is my birthday.
On June 9, 2009, the state of Pennsylvania approved us to bring an orphan into our state. June 9 is Asia's birthday. On July 3, 2009, the United States Customs and Immigration Service received all of our approved paperwork and certifications. July 3 is Colette's birthday. And on September 11, 2009, Rex had his appointment at the U.S. Embassy in Manila to receive his passport and travel visa. September 11 is my dad's birthday. Over the course of an adoption, these are all major milestones, happening on our birthdays. I'd call that a guarantee.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Day 23: Five Reactive Coping Patterns
In her research on internationally adopted children, Dr. Patty Cogen has identified five types of coping behaviors that she calls, "Reactive Coping Patterns." (Parenting Your Internationally Adopted Child). In order to deal with challenging situations, children engage in these coping patterns, much like adults might compulsively shop or binge drink or chain smoke or overwork, to deal with their challenges. In this way, adults aren't that different from children.
Cogen's five patterns are: the Warm Rock, the Stunned Rag Doll, the Dizzy Performer, the Royal Boss, and the Unwilling Guest. Two of these patterns--the Warm Rock and the Stunned Rag Doll--are based on passive behaviors. The Warm Rock might sleep excessively or quietly withdraw from activity, while the Stunned Rag Doll might be physically present, but appear aloof and distant.
The Dizzy Performer and Royal Boss are based on active behaviors. The Dizzy Performer can command a room through entertaining everyone and is overly friendly to adults, while the Royal Boss controls people through whining or temper tantrums. The fifth pattern, the Unwilling Guest, is a combination of both passive and active behaviors, as he actively searches or waits for something he's missing. I've written about coping behaviors before, and since then, we've been able to observe Rex even more. We definitely know what his preferred coping pattern is and now that we do, we can match it with strategic parenting.
Cogen's five patterns are: the Warm Rock, the Stunned Rag Doll, the Dizzy Performer, the Royal Boss, and the Unwilling Guest. Two of these patterns--the Warm Rock and the Stunned Rag Doll--are based on passive behaviors. The Warm Rock might sleep excessively or quietly withdraw from activity, while the Stunned Rag Doll might be physically present, but appear aloof and distant.
The Dizzy Performer and Royal Boss are based on active behaviors. The Dizzy Performer can command a room through entertaining everyone and is overly friendly to adults, while the Royal Boss controls people through whining or temper tantrums. The fifth pattern, the Unwilling Guest, is a combination of both passive and active behaviors, as he actively searches or waits for something he's missing. I've written about coping behaviors before, and since then, we've been able to observe Rex even more. We definitely know what his preferred coping pattern is and now that we do, we can match it with strategic parenting.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Day 22: So Glad We're Normal
Last night we were praying before dinner, and Asia interrupted the prayer to say her own. What she said warmed a parent's heart: "God, thank you for bringing Rex here." This was totally unexpected and unprompted, and I have to admit caught me by surprise. I mean, how many older sisters were thanking God for their younger brothers tonight? This was nothing short of miraculous.
Fast forward to today, when Asia prayed, out loud, "I pray the cat bites Rex." Wait a moment, it's one thing to think this and it's another to actually ask God Almighty to make it happen. He shut the mouths of felines when Daniel was in the lion's den and now Asia wants Him to open the mouths of felines so they can bite her little brother. What happened to yesterday? I want to go back to yesterday.
Asia's prayer is not actually as diabolical as it sounds. Rex started to pull the cat across the floor with its tail, and Asia saw it happen. She intervened, but Rex wouldn't let go, and so I stepped in. Asia said, "Someday the cat's going to bite him," and I said, "Maybe that would teach him not to pull the cat." It was then that Asia prayed for the cat to bite Rex. As you can see, it's partly my fault. One day she's thankful for him, the next day not as much. Just another sister trying to live with her brother. I'm so glad we're normal.
Fast forward to today, when Asia prayed, out loud, "I pray the cat bites Rex." Wait a moment, it's one thing to think this and it's another to actually ask God Almighty to make it happen. He shut the mouths of felines when Daniel was in the lion's den and now Asia wants Him to open the mouths of felines so they can bite her little brother. What happened to yesterday? I want to go back to yesterday.
Asia's prayer is not actually as diabolical as it sounds. Rex started to pull the cat across the floor with its tail, and Asia saw it happen. She intervened, but Rex wouldn't let go, and so I stepped in. Asia said, "Someday the cat's going to bite him," and I said, "Maybe that would teach him not to pull the cat." It was then that Asia prayed for the cat to bite Rex. As you can see, it's partly my fault. One day she's thankful for him, the next day not as much. Just another sister trying to live with her brother. I'm so glad we're normal.
Friday, October 16, 2009
Day 21: A Sacred Drama
A packed suitcase. I didn't expect this to be one of the most significant images of the day, but it was. Tonight we ate dinner at my parents' house, and that's where I saw it. We were playing an innocent game of hide-and-seek when I stumbled upon the packed suitcase. I don't know exactly why it struck me so; this wasn't a surprise after all; I knew my mom was going away. But tonight it became real--tomorrow she's flying to the Philippines.
Several weeks ago, we flew out of the Philippines with Rex. As we ascended into the smooth sky, I had two very different emotions. I was overjoyed that we had done it, finally. We were bringing home our new son! But on the other hand, I felt sad. Rex was leaving his birth country, and we didn't know when he'd be back. The Philippines would have to get on without him. Of course he had no idea this drama was unfolding around him, but it was.
The fact that my mom had a suitcase that she would open in the Philippines, on sacred soil, is what moved me. It's sacred because that's where our son is from. It's part of his story, part of his memory, part of him. I hope she'll bring back some dirt. She's going to help typhoon victims and lead a workshop at a conference. It's wonderful that shes's going, but at the same time doesn't seem fair. Why does she get to go and not Rex, a boy gone from his homeland? Ah, the sacred drama of a packed suitcase.
Several weeks ago, we flew out of the Philippines with Rex. As we ascended into the smooth sky, I had two very different emotions. I was overjoyed that we had done it, finally. We were bringing home our new son! But on the other hand, I felt sad. Rex was leaving his birth country, and we didn't know when he'd be back. The Philippines would have to get on without him. Of course he had no idea this drama was unfolding around him, but it was.
The fact that my mom had a suitcase that she would open in the Philippines, on sacred soil, is what moved me. It's sacred because that's where our son is from. It's part of his story, part of his memory, part of him. I hope she'll bring back some dirt. She's going to help typhoon victims and lead a workshop at a conference. It's wonderful that shes's going, but at the same time doesn't seem fair. Why does she get to go and not Rex, a boy gone from his homeland? Ah, the sacred drama of a packed suitcase.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Day 20: Let It Snow
Today it snowed. Colette was in a store with Rex and when they got out, large white flakes were falling from the sky. He looked around in wide-eyed amazement, silent. As far as we know, Rex has never seen snow before, in person that is. We had sent him a photo album before he met us, and there was a picture of Asia standing next to a snow princess she had just made. Who knows what he thought? Was this Asia's very white, very round Norwegian big sister? We don't know. He did keep asking for Helga when he first got here though.
As an internationally adopted child, Rex will experience so many new things. It's fun to be along when he does, and I admit a twinge of jealousy at his awe. As an adult, there aren't many new things to be part of anymore. Sure, new things do happen, and they're amazing, but I don't approach them with the same wide-eyed wonder and crinkley-faced focus that I used to. Maybe it's a product of age, maybe I've seen it all on the Internet, maybe I'm too "sophisticated."
I wish I could have known what Rex was thinking when he first saw that snow. Did he think it was rice? Rice falling from the sky? Was God tossing down rice to the hungry masses? Or maybe it was soap suds. He knows about those, swims in them every night. Maybe the world needs a bath and a swim. Or maybe, just maybe, it was mashed potatoes, the kind we try to get him to eat by telling him they're french fries all mixed up, but it doesn't work. Snow doesn't look like french fries.
As an internationally adopted child, Rex will experience so many new things. It's fun to be along when he does, and I admit a twinge of jealousy at his awe. As an adult, there aren't many new things to be part of anymore. Sure, new things do happen, and they're amazing, but I don't approach them with the same wide-eyed wonder and crinkley-faced focus that I used to. Maybe it's a product of age, maybe I've seen it all on the Internet, maybe I'm too "sophisticated."
I wish I could have known what Rex was thinking when he first saw that snow. Did he think it was rice? Rice falling from the sky? Was God tossing down rice to the hungry masses? Or maybe it was soap suds. He knows about those, swims in them every night. Maybe the world needs a bath and a swim. Or maybe, just maybe, it was mashed potatoes, the kind we try to get him to eat by telling him they're french fries all mixed up, but it doesn't work. Snow doesn't look like french fries.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Day 19: Two Moments to Celebrate
It's important to stop and name meaningful moments, you know, to celebrate them. They may seem small in the big picture, but then again, the big picture is made up of tiny little pixels. Remove a pixel and the picture is off. Put it back, and it's restored. So maybe by celebrating the small moments, we're really celebrating the big ones, and by celebrating the big ones, we're also honoring the small ones that make up the big ones. It's all in your perspective, I suppose.
Well, according to my perspective, two moments happened today that are worth celebrating. The first--Asia's school bus stopped at the end of our driveway to pick her up for school. Thing is, I was driving her to school at the time. We had requested that the school district change Asia's bus stop because it was too far from our home. And you know what? They actually did! I guess you know your district can handle it when the Director of Transportation's name is Van. We celebrate that Asia is seen and recognized at public school.
The second--I got a call from Beth, one of our adoption caseworkers. I hadn't actually talked to her since we got back from the Philippines. Before today's call, every conversation was centered on getting Rex. She helped us get ready to travel; she updated us on the progress; she prepared us to meet him. It was all for the future. But now, for the first time, we weren't looking forward, not counting down the days. Instead we talked about the present, what's actually going on. We celebrate that Rex is with us.
Well, according to my perspective, two moments happened today that are worth celebrating. The first--Asia's school bus stopped at the end of our driveway to pick her up for school. Thing is, I was driving her to school at the time. We had requested that the school district change Asia's bus stop because it was too far from our home. And you know what? They actually did! I guess you know your district can handle it when the Director of Transportation's name is Van. We celebrate that Asia is seen and recognized at public school.
The second--I got a call from Beth, one of our adoption caseworkers. I hadn't actually talked to her since we got back from the Philippines. Before today's call, every conversation was centered on getting Rex. She helped us get ready to travel; she updated us on the progress; she prepared us to meet him. It was all for the future. But now, for the first time, we weren't looking forward, not counting down the days. Instead we talked about the present, what's actually going on. We celebrate that Rex is with us.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Day 18: Vocabulary 101
Asia had her first day of school, and it turns out I should have given her the pretty pink cell phone. That way I would have gotten more information than, "It was good." Never again will I answer Colette with "My day was fine." I'll give her all the details and then some--what I did, who I met with, what I was wearing, what they were wearing, and I'll even tell her what I was thinking at what they were wearing--if it matched, it it wasn't their color, if they should never wear it again, all of it. The point is, when you want to know how the day went, you don't want to hear, "It was good." You actually want to know how it went. From what we can see, school is going well, and Asia enjoys it.
While Asia's learning all sorts of things, Rex is too. The other day, we were at the park, and Rex heard some new English words. I'm pretty sure these words aren't on the reading list for the school district, and I'm pretty sure the teacher wasn't a certified teacher. He was about eight. He was playing on the jungle gym with his friends, and Rex was close by. Within the span of a couple minutes, we heard, "booty," "crap," "poop," and "butt." Now, either he's the son of a proctologist who doesn't use very technical terms at home, or he just happens to have a potty mouth.
Rex hasn't said any of these words yet. We tried not to make a big deal out of it, and when they fired in such rapid succession, we pointed Rex in a different direction, and he played elsewhere. I know we won't be able to shield him for his whole life, but now, early on, we can. We'd prefer if, of the few English words he can say, they don't all have to do with the same thing. Unless he becomes friends with the son of a proctologist.
While Asia's learning all sorts of things, Rex is too. The other day, we were at the park, and Rex heard some new English words. I'm pretty sure these words aren't on the reading list for the school district, and I'm pretty sure the teacher wasn't a certified teacher. He was about eight. He was playing on the jungle gym with his friends, and Rex was close by. Within the span of a couple minutes, we heard, "booty," "crap," "poop," and "butt." Now, either he's the son of a proctologist who doesn't use very technical terms at home, or he just happens to have a potty mouth.
Rex hasn't said any of these words yet. We tried not to make a big deal out of it, and when they fired in such rapid succession, we pointed Rex in a different direction, and he played elsewhere. I know we won't be able to shield him for his whole life, but now, early on, we can. We'd prefer if, of the few English words he can say, they don't all have to do with the same thing. Unless he becomes friends with the son of a proctologist.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Day 17: What School Days Are For
Today is Asia's first day of public school, and I wonder what's going on. I wanted to slip a pretty pink cell phone into her pocket so I could check in with her whenever I wanted. In real time I could find out about social studies and math and recess and lunch. I'm only thinking of her, really. I'm trying to save her from a barrage of questions at dinner. Would you rather have twenty questions all at once or twenty questions one at a time? Or to put it another way, would you rather talk to your dad once or talk to him twenty times? See, you understand why the pretty pink cell phone is the only kind thing to do.
I also wonder what Colette and Rex are doing. I'm very happy they'll have this time alone while Asia's at school and I'm at work. Rex has his own work to do--understanding what a Mommy is. Ralin told us when he first joined their foster family, he called everyone "Mommy," including the Dad and even the dog (that Chihuahua could make a nasty lasagna). He had so many different caregivers that to him, everyone was Mommy.
This is the part when as adoptive parents, we have to swallow our pride and accept where Rex is at. Sure, I want our son to call his Mommy, "Mommy," and not just because she's a caregiver, but because she's The Caregiver. I want him to know that Colette is his unique, one-of-a-kind, permanent, my-heart-is-for-you, I'll-climb-mountains-for-you Mommy. I want him to know that he is hers. He's not there yet, but he'll learn. That's what school days are for.
I also wonder what Colette and Rex are doing. I'm very happy they'll have this time alone while Asia's at school and I'm at work. Rex has his own work to do--understanding what a Mommy is. Ralin told us when he first joined their foster family, he called everyone "Mommy," including the Dad and even the dog (that Chihuahua could make a nasty lasagna). He had so many different caregivers that to him, everyone was Mommy.
This is the part when as adoptive parents, we have to swallow our pride and accept where Rex is at. Sure, I want our son to call his Mommy, "Mommy," and not just because she's a caregiver, but because she's The Caregiver. I want him to know that Colette is his unique, one-of-a-kind, permanent, my-heart-is-for-you, I'll-climb-mountains-for-you Mommy. I want him to know that he is hers. He's not there yet, but he'll learn. That's what school days are for.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Day 16: When Kids Come With Instructions
One of the ways adopted kids differ from kids raised in their biologic families is that some come with instruction manuals, like a lawn mower. You can either read the manual or disregard it. I usually toss it aside, but this time I read it. Grass can always grow back if you screw it up. A kid, well sometimes they don't. Not every adoptive family gets a manual--it has to do with the child's age, known history, current situation. But we're blessed because we did get one. We learned about Rex even before he stepped into our home.
At the placement appointment, we got a printout of Rex' daily schedule--when he wakes up, when he naps, when he eats, when he plays. We learned about his food likes--french fries and bananas--and favorite activities. He loves water, enjoys Barney, and takes a bottle at sleep times. Those instructions really helped our first few weeks with Rex. But what's probably more valuable is that we're in contact with Rex' foster family--we're still getting instructions. We've asked questions and they've answered them, and it has helped us understand Rex a whole lot better.
Just recently his foster mom, Ralin, informed us that less than a year ago, before Rex started living in their home, he was in an orphanage and didn't want to leave his crib. He preferred sitting in his crib alone all day, a full-time loner. Since his social skills were lacking, the orphanage recommended him for foster care in order to prepare him for adoption, which is how he ended up with Ralin and her family. They made great progress with Rex! He's a loner no more! We're so thankful for the love they gave him, and the advice they give us. Sometimes kids come with instructions; and it's a manual worth reading.
At the placement appointment, we got a printout of Rex' daily schedule--when he wakes up, when he naps, when he eats, when he plays. We learned about his food likes--french fries and bananas--and favorite activities. He loves water, enjoys Barney, and takes a bottle at sleep times. Those instructions really helped our first few weeks with Rex. But what's probably more valuable is that we're in contact with Rex' foster family--we're still getting instructions. We've asked questions and they've answered them, and it has helped us understand Rex a whole lot better.
Just recently his foster mom, Ralin, informed us that less than a year ago, before Rex started living in their home, he was in an orphanage and didn't want to leave his crib. He preferred sitting in his crib alone all day, a full-time loner. Since his social skills were lacking, the orphanage recommended him for foster care in order to prepare him for adoption, which is how he ended up with Ralin and her family. They made great progress with Rex! He's a loner no more! We're so thankful for the love they gave him, and the advice they give us. Sometimes kids come with instructions; and it's a manual worth reading.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Day 15: So It Goes With Adoption
Note: Adoption Year is catching on! Readers are promoting it to their friends. If you would like Adoption Year business cards to pass on, email me at chrissheinz (at) gmail.com and we'll send you some.
Today we attended the Fall Festival at Way Fruit Farm. We invited our friend Theresa, who is Asia's very special babysitter. Our end goal is for Rex to be comfortable with her, so eventually Colette and I can go out. Theresa came to our house, was introduced to Rex in the play room, and they started playing together. All was well, so we boarded the van.
When everyone took their seats, Rex wasn't happy--he wanted Theresa to sit next to him--so she did and he stopped crying. "Great! He likes her already," I thought, as I started planning our next date night in my head. When we arrived, we got out and Mommy tried to hold Rex, but he started crying again and pointed to Theresa. "Cool, umm, Theresa, got any plans for tonight?" is what I almost said, but then I noticed the look on Colette's face. And that's how it went all morning--Rex crying, Mommy trying to hold him, Rex reaching for Theresa. No matter how hard Mommy tried to pacify him, she couldn't.
Poor Theresa didn't know what to do--should she hold him or shouldn't she hold him? She saw the dilemma. She did the right thing, though, following our direction. Finally Rex calmed down, Theresa kind of moved to the background, and Colette took him. He clung to her from then on. We don't know what happened here. Maybe Theresa reminded Rex of someone from his past. Maybe being in a new place confused him. Maybe he thought she was his new Mommy. We don't know for sure; we have no answers, only questions. So it goes with adoption.
Today we attended the Fall Festival at Way Fruit Farm. We invited our friend Theresa, who is Asia's very special babysitter. Our end goal is for Rex to be comfortable with her, so eventually Colette and I can go out. Theresa came to our house, was introduced to Rex in the play room, and they started playing together. All was well, so we boarded the van.
When everyone took their seats, Rex wasn't happy--he wanted Theresa to sit next to him--so she did and he stopped crying. "Great! He likes her already," I thought, as I started planning our next date night in my head. When we arrived, we got out and Mommy tried to hold Rex, but he started crying again and pointed to Theresa. "Cool, umm, Theresa, got any plans for tonight?" is what I almost said, but then I noticed the look on Colette's face. And that's how it went all morning--Rex crying, Mommy trying to hold him, Rex reaching for Theresa. No matter how hard Mommy tried to pacify him, she couldn't.
Poor Theresa didn't know what to do--should she hold him or shouldn't she hold him? She saw the dilemma. She did the right thing, though, following our direction. Finally Rex calmed down, Theresa kind of moved to the background, and Colette took him. He clung to her from then on. We don't know what happened here. Maybe Theresa reminded Rex of someone from his past. Maybe being in a new place confused him. Maybe he thought she was his new Mommy. We don't know for sure; we have no answers, only questions. So it goes with adoption.
Friday, October 9, 2009
Day 14: Two Parts of Change
I'm learning there are two parts of Change: the Fact and the Implementation. It's hard to move into the Implementation of Change when you haven't accepted the Fact of Change. It's like how Rex counts. He starts at one, then goes to three, then five. No matter how many times you try to get him to say two or four, he won't do it. He likes it the way it is. 1-3-5. He'll get it some day.
Being successful with Change cannot occur the way Rex counts. You have to accept the Fact before you can implement. You can't go to three without passing through two. I think in our family that's where we're at--we're at two. We're accepting the Fact and once that's done, we can implement the Change. We can move into living what the Change means, whether it's adopting Rex or sending Asia to public school.
Truth is, even though this adoption process has taken more than two years, and we had plenty of time to accept the Change, it couldn't happen until he was with us, until all of life changed because of him. We had to hold him and soothe his tears and try to communicate--basically live with him--for us to accept the Fact. And now that we have, we can implement. We're getting into a groove. Tonight I took both kids to the store without Colette and it went fine. We'll pack Asia's school bag this weekend and it will be fine. It's time to implement the Change.
Being successful with Change cannot occur the way Rex counts. You have to accept the Fact before you can implement. You can't go to three without passing through two. I think in our family that's where we're at--we're at two. We're accepting the Fact and once that's done, we can implement the Change. We can move into living what the Change means, whether it's adopting Rex or sending Asia to public school.
Truth is, even though this adoption process has taken more than two years, and we had plenty of time to accept the Change, it couldn't happen until he was with us, until all of life changed because of him. We had to hold him and soothe his tears and try to communicate--basically live with him--for us to accept the Fact. And now that we have, we can implement. We're getting into a groove. Tonight I took both kids to the store without Colette and it went fine. We'll pack Asia's school bag this weekend and it will be fine. It's time to implement the Change.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Day 13: What Else I Didn't Think Of
This adoption is a bigger change than we thought it would be, and I feel unprepared for it. The thing is, I thought we had prepared and that we would be ready. In fact, I even thought we went the extra mile. We didn't just attend adoption training and talk with other adoptive families and follow our adoption agency and read books and pray. No, we went out of our way to consider Rex' perspective--spending a lot of time and thought on what this change will mean for him.
But in the midst of that, we forgot to consider what this means for us as an existing family. He wasn't the only one with a changing life; Colette, Asia and I were about to change our life too, but I barely thought about it. And I wish I did. I ignored us. And I wish I didn't.
And now I feel unprepared--woefully. I didn't even consider that homeschooling wouldn't work, but when you think of the situation, isn't it kind of obvious that it wouldn't work, or at least a possibility? It didn't even occur to me to ask. Now I'm wondering what else I didn't think of.
But in the midst of that, we forgot to consider what this means for us as an existing family. He wasn't the only one with a changing life; Colette, Asia and I were about to change our life too, but I barely thought about it. And I wish I did. I ignored us. And I wish I didn't.
And now I feel unprepared--woefully. I didn't even consider that homeschooling wouldn't work, but when you think of the situation, isn't it kind of obvious that it wouldn't work, or at least a possibility? It didn't even occur to me to ask. Now I'm wondering what else I didn't think of.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Day 12: What We Admit
Pete Gall writes, "Success in life is not measured by what we achieve, but by what we come to admit." (My Beautiful Idol). I have something to admit: we can't do this anymore. By this, I mean the life we've been living. It's not working and something has to change. I was waiting to see if it would turn around, but it hasn't, and I don't see that it will. So on Monday, Asia starts in public school.
We thought we could do it--adoption and homeschooling at the same time. We admit we can't. It seemed good on paper--Colette would school Asia while Rex played in the next room, and when Rex napped, they'd have really focused schooltime. But real life is different than it is on paper. It turns out 2 year-old Rex doesn't want to play in the next room when Asia is around; he wants to play with her. And Rex' naps aren't always the entire two hours Colette had planned for, which leaves her rushing to try to get everything in should Rex wake up early.
This has left Colette completely stressed out, Asia wanting something else, who knows what Rex is thinking, and I, well I want my wife back. I still regard Colette as the power player in the family, because sometimes it requires more strength to admit you are weak, than it does to pretend you are strong, and because of what she's admitting, Colette is strong, so strong. Asia is really excited for public school too. She's going to the same elementary school I did as a boy. And Rex, well, he'll get one-on-one time with his Mommy. I'm proud of my family for what we admit.
We thought we could do it--adoption and homeschooling at the same time. We admit we can't. It seemed good on paper--Colette would school Asia while Rex played in the next room, and when Rex napped, they'd have really focused schooltime. But real life is different than it is on paper. It turns out 2 year-old Rex doesn't want to play in the next room when Asia is around; he wants to play with her. And Rex' naps aren't always the entire two hours Colette had planned for, which leaves her rushing to try to get everything in should Rex wake up early.
This has left Colette completely stressed out, Asia wanting something else, who knows what Rex is thinking, and I, well I want my wife back. I still regard Colette as the power player in the family, because sometimes it requires more strength to admit you are weak, than it does to pretend you are strong, and because of what she's admitting, Colette is strong, so strong. Asia is really excited for public school too. She's going to the same elementary school I did as a boy. And Rex, well, he'll get one-on-one time with his Mommy. I'm proud of my family for what we admit.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Day 11: Such Important Work
I've had time to think about my first day at work and here's what I've come up with: Home is really where the work happens. By lunchtime, I had called twice to check in, partially wanting things to be great and partially wanting them not to be. I wanted the family's first day without me to be easy--kids listening to Mommy, kids laughing with Mommy, not a problem. On the other hand, I also wanted the family's first day without me to be hard--kids asking for Daddy, kids lost without Daddy, something missing. But by my second call, which was halfway through the day, there was not a word about Daddy. They had forgotten me.
Asia is used to me going to work, but not Rex. All Rex has known is me being at home all day. I was sure he'd wake up and say, "Daddy, Daddy?" And all of a sudden he'd pull out a sentence in perfect English, the one he was holding back for a very desperate and important moment, and he'd say, "I would like to go wherever my Daddy is and stay with him until the day is out, if you please." But he didn't say that. Nothing close, not even a simple "Daddy." I was sure when I returned home and walked into the house, Rex would wail uncontrollably because this strange man just broke into his home, and we'd have to redo our first meeting, be introduced, do everything over again.
But when Rex saw me, he yelled a great big, "Daddy!" and threw his arms up for me to hold him and I snatched him up and hugged him. Asia was less enthusiastic about our reunion, but I guess she always knew I was coming back. It was great to be back at home, where the real work happens. At my job I think of ways to market software, and not just any software, energy saving software. We help organizations save money, we provide jobs to thirty people, and we give some of our profits to charities. It's good work. But while I'm doing that, Colette is at home with our kids, teaching them, building character, providing belonging. That's really where the work is. It's hard to be gone from such important work, but I know it's the Design, at least for now.
Asia is used to me going to work, but not Rex. All Rex has known is me being at home all day. I was sure he'd wake up and say, "Daddy, Daddy?" And all of a sudden he'd pull out a sentence in perfect English, the one he was holding back for a very desperate and important moment, and he'd say, "I would like to go wherever my Daddy is and stay with him until the day is out, if you please." But he didn't say that. Nothing close, not even a simple "Daddy." I was sure when I returned home and walked into the house, Rex would wail uncontrollably because this strange man just broke into his home, and we'd have to redo our first meeting, be introduced, do everything over again.
But when Rex saw me, he yelled a great big, "Daddy!" and threw his arms up for me to hold him and I snatched him up and hugged him. Asia was less enthusiastic about our reunion, but I guess she always knew I was coming back. It was great to be back at home, where the real work happens. At my job I think of ways to market software, and not just any software, energy saving software. We help organizations save money, we provide jobs to thirty people, and we give some of our profits to charities. It's good work. But while I'm doing that, Colette is at home with our kids, teaching them, building character, providing belonging. That's really where the work is. It's hard to be gone from such important work, but I know it's the Design, at least for now.
Monday, October 5, 2009
Day 10: Coping Behaviors
As adoptive parents, we're observing Rex and learning about him. Biologic parents do the same thing with newborns. They learn their sleep cycles, their favorite activities, their poop times. Well, we're doing the same with Rex, although he's not a newborn--he's almost three. We're studying his behavior so we know what he needs; we're letting his actions speak to us like they're a language--the language of Rex.
One major type of behavior we're paying attention to is coping behavior. This is behavior Rex uses when he's in a stressful situation. We know he's feeling anxious and looking for a way out when he goes into his coping behaviors. We saw a lot of them during our first days with him, but as time goes on, he uses them less frequently, although they're still there. Rex' coping behaviors signal that something is wrong and needs our attention. Sometimes it's when he meets new people or is in a new place; other times when he wants something and he doesn't get it.
When Rex uses coping behaviors, it's his way to avoid feeling what he's really feeling. As he begins to feel safe and accepted, he'll allow himself to feel what he really feels and will abandon the behaviors. He'll reach a place of resiliency, where he can emotionally adjust to the changing situation. He won't avoid his feelings; he'll enter into them because he knows he's taken care of. But until then, it feels like we're loving him well when we not only identify his coping behaviors, but also give him what he needs.
One major type of behavior we're paying attention to is coping behavior. This is behavior Rex uses when he's in a stressful situation. We know he's feeling anxious and looking for a way out when he goes into his coping behaviors. We saw a lot of them during our first days with him, but as time goes on, he uses them less frequently, although they're still there. Rex' coping behaviors signal that something is wrong and needs our attention. Sometimes it's when he meets new people or is in a new place; other times when he wants something and he doesn't get it.
When Rex uses coping behaviors, it's his way to avoid feeling what he's really feeling. As he begins to feel safe and accepted, he'll allow himself to feel what he really feels and will abandon the behaviors. He'll reach a place of resiliency, where he can emotionally adjust to the changing situation. He won't avoid his feelings; he'll enter into them because he knows he's taken care of. But until then, it feels like we're loving him well when we not only identify his coping behaviors, but also give him what he needs.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Day 9: The Power Player
Tomorrow is my first day of work since getting Rex. Up to this point, I've been part of everything--doctor's visits, meals, naptime, play. But reality says that paternity leave doesn't last forever, so at 9 am tomorrow instead of having breakfast with the family, I'll be in a Directors' Meeting, which I might add has almost as much fighting and childish antics as family breakfast, save for the spills. Directors' Meeting has more.
This means my wife will have to fend for herself all day. I have no doubt she can handle it. In our family, she's really the power player, and if one of us has to stay home with the kids, it's better for everyone if it's her. For example, she's the one who can figure out how to reload the Diaper Genie. Me, I'd be left drowning in diaper bombs until someone saved me. She can talk to the kids and load them into the van at the same time without incident. Me, while getting them into the van today after church, left our Bibles on the roof, and didn't realize it until a mile down the road when we heard the Bibles thumping on the roof. The cause? The kids were talking to me.
Not only will Colette be outnumbered by our kids, but she'll have a student too. Colette homeschools Asia, and will school her during the day. If they don't finish, they'll continue in the evening when I'm at home and can watch Rex. I really hand it to Colette. If I were the one at home, Asia would be on that school bus quicker than she can say, "elementary." But I'm not the one at home; our power player is, which is better for everyone.
This means my wife will have to fend for herself all day. I have no doubt she can handle it. In our family, she's really the power player, and if one of us has to stay home with the kids, it's better for everyone if it's her. For example, she's the one who can figure out how to reload the Diaper Genie. Me, I'd be left drowning in diaper bombs until someone saved me. She can talk to the kids and load them into the van at the same time without incident. Me, while getting them into the van today after church, left our Bibles on the roof, and didn't realize it until a mile down the road when we heard the Bibles thumping on the roof. The cause? The kids were talking to me.
Not only will Colette be outnumbered by our kids, but she'll have a student too. Colette homeschools Asia, and will school her during the day. If they don't finish, they'll continue in the evening when I'm at home and can watch Rex. I really hand it to Colette. If I were the one at home, Asia would be on that school bus quicker than she can say, "elementary." But I'm not the one at home; our power player is, which is better for everyone.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Day 8: Shared Hearts
When Rex joined our family, Asia had to begin sharing our parental hearts with him. For more than six years, she's been our only child. She's been the one to choose the restaurant, pick the movie, and get our undivided attention. If she wanted to have a fashion show, she just did it, and we dropped everything. But now there's a brother in the house, and the show has to wait. He gets most of our attention these days. He also gets more latitude than she does, because he's younger and he's adjusting to a new life.
It's not that she is forgotten--we don't trip over her and say, "Oh, it's you." It's just that she doesn't get the exclusive privileges that once came with being an only child. On the airplane, Mommy held Rex close when there was turbulence; before she would have held Asia. The other night as we put Rex to bed, Asia fell asleep on top of her comforter with lights on and shades up, as she waited for us to finish with him; before she would have been pampered to sleep. And today Asia wanted both of us to walk around the neighborhood with her, but one had to stay back because Rex was napping; before she would have gotten both of us. These are just some of the changes for Asia, and I have to say, she is dealing marvelously with them.
I think she understands that sharing her parents is part of being a big sister. And not just any big sister--a big sister to a boy who needs a lot of love. She has no problem with giving love. The first few days after we got him, Asia wouldn't stop kissing him. We finally had to ask her to stop because it was getting excessive. And so I think in the end she doesn't mind sharing us if it means letting Rex in.
It's not that she is forgotten--we don't trip over her and say, "Oh, it's you." It's just that she doesn't get the exclusive privileges that once came with being an only child. On the airplane, Mommy held Rex close when there was turbulence; before she would have held Asia. The other night as we put Rex to bed, Asia fell asleep on top of her comforter with lights on and shades up, as she waited for us to finish with him; before she would have been pampered to sleep. And today Asia wanted both of us to walk around the neighborhood with her, but one had to stay back because Rex was napping; before she would have gotten both of us. These are just some of the changes for Asia, and I have to say, she is dealing marvelously with them.
I think she understands that sharing her parents is part of being a big sister. And not just any big sister--a big sister to a boy who needs a lot of love. She has no problem with giving love. The first few days after we got him, Asia wouldn't stop kissing him. We finally had to ask her to stop because it was getting excessive. And so I think in the end she doesn't mind sharing us if it means letting Rex in.
Friday, October 2, 2009
Day 7: The Man Mission
Today I took Rex on a man mission. Colette and Asia went to the library for homeschooling, and so when Rex woke up from his nap, we went out. The mission? Walking to the store to buy Dixie cups. I know Dixie cups don't sound too manly, and the journey not too perilous, but to a toddler who loves his Dixie cups, and who has not walked this way before, it would be the perfect way for two guys to demonstrate their manhood.
Only, one guy had to carry the other most of the way. When Rex is in a new situation, he clings to us, and since, as I said, he had not walked this way before, he wanted to be held. This was no problem--I liked doing it--except that I had over-layered, and so I had to tie my jacket around my waist because I started to sweat. We got to the store and found they had no Dixie cups, so we bought a pack of M&M's and a bottle of water, and sat on the curb enjoying our spoils.
Then we walked a different way home--well, me walking and him being carried--and ended up at the park. Two boys played on the jungle gym; they were on a man mission too as they made up stories of space cowboys. Rex watched with wide-eyed fascination. Soon it started to rain, so I hoisted Rex on my shoulders and ran. We arrived home, wet from rain and sweat. It was good to go on a man mission with my new son, and there are many more to come.
Only, one guy had to carry the other most of the way. When Rex is in a new situation, he clings to us, and since, as I said, he had not walked this way before, he wanted to be held. This was no problem--I liked doing it--except that I had over-layered, and so I had to tie my jacket around my waist because I started to sweat. We got to the store and found they had no Dixie cups, so we bought a pack of M&M's and a bottle of water, and sat on the curb enjoying our spoils.
Then we walked a different way home--well, me walking and him being carried--and ended up at the park. Two boys played on the jungle gym; they were on a man mission too as they made up stories of space cowboys. Rex watched with wide-eyed fascination. Soon it started to rain, so I hoisted Rex on my shoulders and ran. We arrived home, wet from rain and sweat. It was good to go on a man mission with my new son, and there are many more to come.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Day 6: Attachment
Tonight when I laid down with Rex to put him to bed, he placed his hand in mine--fingers intertwined with mine. He kept it there a pretty long time, until he turned over and went to sleep. He also felt my face, sort of patted it all over, not like a toddler would pat mud into pies, but more delicately, like patting a little bunny. Rex did this the other night, too.
Lois Ruskai Melina calls attachment between a parent and child, "the development of a mutual feeling that the other is irreplaceable" (Raising Adopted Children). I don't think Rex would call me irreplaceable yet. I want him to feel like I'm his irreplaceable daddy, but I don't think that's true. Yes, he already calls me daddy, but when he sees photos of his foster dad, he also calls him daddy. In his role as foster dad, he is irreplaceable. But in my role as his permanent daddy, I want to be irreplaceable too. I don't think I'm there yet, it's only Day 6.
Attachment between a parent and adopted child can take a year, according to Melina. Sure, there are feelings of closeness and bonding, but that doesn't mean it's attachment. Remember, attachment is a mutual feeling. A parent can have it but that doesn't guarantee the child does. But when there is attachment, when both feel the other is irreplaceable, that's golden. Talk to me in a year.
Lois Ruskai Melina calls attachment between a parent and child, "the development of a mutual feeling that the other is irreplaceable" (Raising Adopted Children). I don't think Rex would call me irreplaceable yet. I want him to feel like I'm his irreplaceable daddy, but I don't think that's true. Yes, he already calls me daddy, but when he sees photos of his foster dad, he also calls him daddy. In his role as foster dad, he is irreplaceable. But in my role as his permanent daddy, I want to be irreplaceable too. I don't think I'm there yet, it's only Day 6.
Attachment between a parent and adopted child can take a year, according to Melina. Sure, there are feelings of closeness and bonding, but that doesn't mean it's attachment. Remember, attachment is a mutual feeling. A parent can have it but that doesn't guarantee the child does. But when there is attachment, when both feel the other is irreplaceable, that's golden. Talk to me in a year.
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About Me
- C.S. Heinz
- I'm the Director of Marketing for EnergyCAP, Inc., publisher of the best selling energy management software. I write on topics like prayer, discipleship, intimacy with God, family, and adoption. I like to buy books and sometimes I even read them.
