yielding

Yield (oil on canvas), by Bryan Haynes

Yesterday Z lay in his crib at naptime and sang songs, told stories, and had a grand old time not sleeping. I gave up after an hour and went in to him. Nothing seemed to be wrong - clean diaper, noise machine on, and comfort items within reach - so I just held him quietly in the rocker and cuddled. I pressed my lips to his sweet head, smelled his coconut conditioner, and thanked God for this precious child.

Just as his breathing started to slow and I thought he might actually fall asleep after all, I heard D get out of bed. Now let me tell you that my dear darling D may have just turned 4, but the kid walks like a 300 pound gorilla.

Boom. D jumped to the floor. Z's eyes fluttered open.

Thump, thump, thump, thump. D lumbered down the hallway. Z shifted in my arms.

Mommy! D shout-whispered from the doorway to Z's room. I want to get up now!

I tried nodding and gesturing but that induced more shout-whispers so I finally whispered back, OK hon, go read books in the living room.

Thump, thump, thud. D dropped a book on the hardwood.

Squeak, rustle, squeak. D made himself comfortable on the noisy leather couch, right in Z's line of sight.

Sigh.

A wave of frustration swelled and churned. Why didn't Z nap in his crib like he usually does? Why did D have to be so loud at just the wrong moment? Why don't my kids just do what I want them to do when I want them to do it? But right before my grumbling grew into a full-blown whine-fest, the Holy Spirit broke through and pulled me up short with a simple truth: love yields.

What does this mean? It means that if we are going to live together in love, D is going to wake Z up from his nap too early, and Z is going to color on N's field trip permission slip, and N is going to eat the last of D's favorite cereal, and Mommy is going to forget to bring a lollipop to Supercuts even though she promised, and Daddy is going to accidentally recycle D's preschool registration form... and you know what? It's OK. Good, even. Because in those moments we are given the opportunity to yield to each other, to give grace to each other, to express love for each other in the small community that is our family.

Having three young boys means life is messy, but I am learning to see the mess differently. I want to teach my children that living in community means learning to yield to one another in the messiness. I'm pretty sure this won't be as simple as saying, "Gee N, isn't it great that D wrecked your Lego castle? Now you can show him love by responding with grace!" To be honest, I don't really know what this looks like exactly. But I'm told that kids learn more from watching than listening, so I guess I'll start by trying to actually do it, God helping me.

By the way, yesterday? Z totally fell asleep anyway, despite his brothers thumps, booms, and thuds. Ohhhh, so thankful.

family life and unmet needs

When we first brought Z home our biggest priority was to connect with him and meet his needs. We did our best to learn what his needs were and to teach him how to express those needs to us so that we could meet them. Keep in mind, this doesn't mean we gave him everything he wanted all the time, but we did use every opportunity we could to build trust through meeting his needs for comfort, food, sleep, affection, space, recreation, etc.

As you can imagine, this required (and continues to require) a great deal of our attention, focus, and energy, which has not been without consequence for our other two boys. Though I tried hard not to marginalize them, I didn't always succeed, and there were times where I unintentionally sent the message that Z's needs were more important than theirs. My 6 year old didn't feel this as much because he is older and can be independent with a lot of things, but my 3 year old felt it. He put up with it for a few months, but a couple of weeks ago he decided he'd had enough. He was going to demand his mommy's full attention again no matter what it took. So suddenly I had not one, but two very high-needs children in my home and life got... um, interesting.

Thank God for the wise people he has put in my life. My friend Chris also has a 2 year old and a 3 year old (and, ahem, SEVEN other children - she's amazing), so I shared my struggle with her at a recent adoptive mom gathering. "They both need the same thing from me all the time and I can't meet both their needs at the same time!" I whined. And do you know what she said? She said, That's OK. That's OK? What? But Z is adopted! I have to meet his needs! I have to build his trust! True, and I am doing those things. But Z also lives in a family, and in families we share, not only toys and books and food, but also parents. And that's OK. When he has to wait for D to be done snuggling with me before he gets his turn I am not rejecting him or letting his needs go unmet. I am teaching him how to live and love in a family. I am teaching him that, in our family, we are all valuable, we all need love and affection, and we all matter. It will take a few tears and fits, but I know it will be a lesson worth learning for all of us.