you want me on that wall

Like most two-year-olds, Z has a love-hate relationship with boundaries. It's no surprise that he loves to push them, but one thing I've learned the hard way is that he actually hates to break them.

Here's a scene that has happened more than once in our house:

Me: Z, go pick out a book to read before nap.

Z: No! No book.

Me (before learning aforementioned lesson about boundaries): No book? Are you sure?

Z: NO BOOK.

Me: Okay, no book.

Z: Booooooooooook!

Me: No, Z it's too late. You said no book, and Mommy listens to your words, so no book today.

[commence screaming fit that hijacks entire pre-nap routine]

Z loves to act like he wants control, but most of the time he hates to actually have it. If adoption and child development literature is right, children need boundaries (i.e. areas over which they have no control) in order to feel safe, and children need to feel safe in order to form an attachment with their parent or caregiver. Therefore, healthy attachment depends on keeping good boundaries. I am positive I read this multiple times before and after Z came home, but now I can see it with my own eyes. The screaming fit from the scenario above is not about anger or frustration - it's about fear. We always read a book before bed. It's part of a routine that helps him feel safe. By giving him the power to change the routine, I have removed a source of safety for him without any warning: he is understandably terrified.

The climactic courtroom scene from A Few Good Men is one of my favorites. [If you haven't seen that movie, I am not going to summarize. Just go watch it. And please appreciate the awesome early 90's casual outfits Demi Moore sports in the case preparation scenes. Were our jeans really that high-waisted? Amazing.] Anyway, sometimes the lines from Jack Nicholson's character pop into my head in these situations with Z. "You want me on that wall," he says. "You need me on that wall." OK, so maybe I'm not a colonel at Gitmo and I'm definitely not ordering any code reds. But Z does want to know that somebody is standing on the wall, protecting him, not only from outside forces, but from himself. I need to remind myself of that, of the value in standing my ground and sticking to the plan, even when he presses me to do otherwise.

Here's a revised version of the previous scenario, which still plays out on a daily basis in our home:

Me: Wait a minute Z, don't eat yet - I have to get your bib.

Z: No! No bib, Mommy.

Me: Z, it is lunchtime. At lunchtime we always wear a bib.

Z: NO. BIB. MOMMY.

Me: (putting on bib) Sorry dude, that's how it goes.

And guess what? He might pout for a minute, but most of the time he gets over it way faster than when I give in to his boundary-pushing demands. The comfort of consistency and routine trumps the frustration of not getting his way. Of course at some point it will become developmentally appropriate to change his routines and introduce flexibility and autonomy into more areas of his life. I'm sure that will hold new challenges with more steep learning curves. But for now I'm happy to play it safe, knowing that these days of stability and familiarity are laying a foundation for years of trust and love.

the runaway bunny

I wouldn't say it's his favorite book, but he comes back to it every so often, sometimes just once, sometimes over and over for days on end. I'm always achingly grateful when he does. He has learned how to throw out a flare, but I still wish he didn't have to.

We turn the pages slowly, pausing at each illustration to find the wayward bunny hiding in the garden or disguised on a mountainside. What is he running away from? I wonder. His home under the tree looks warm and cozy and his mama is crazy about him. He is offered safety, security, and relationship but instead he seeks out danger, isolation, and independence. Awfully human, this little fella.

Who am I? Who loves me? How do I know?

In the story, it is the mother bunny who chases after her baby; Z tells it his own way. His finger finds the little bunny, then slowly traces a path across the page from child... to mother. The ache eases: he is home.

family day follow up

We had a great time with the boys last weekend at Great Wolf Lodge! The kids all had a blast and you could see how special they felt to have a fun day set aside to celebrate us.

If you had seen me standing in the wave pool watching all my boys and their daddy play together you probably would have thought my bleary eyes and wet cheeks were the result of chlorinated water, but you'd have been wrong. I was overcome with gratitude for the blessing of each one of them. Who am I to have all this?

[pardon the low-quality photos, we didn't bring our camera so I took these on my phone]











P.S. Keeping it real: my tears of gratitude on Friday evening had turned into tears of exhaustion and frustration by Saturday night when, upon arriving back home, our kids were so insanely overtired that they took over two hours to go to sleep. It was worth it, but WOW... break-down city.

family day, continued

A few weeks before Christmas, N (age 6) and I were talking about the upcoming holiday. He had recently watched a few movies with plot lines where the main character "saves" Christmas, so we were talking about whether that could ever happen. Movies and other holiday propaganda often send the message that the "true meaning" of Christmas is family, so we were talking through our belief that, although we love to be with family at Christmas, it is not actually about family: it is about Jesus. At this point in the conversation N turned to me and asked, "Mommy, is there a holiday that's just about family?" I thought about it for a minute and had to shake my head, I couldn't think of one. "Can we make our own?" he asked. "We could call it Family Day! Can it be tomorrow?" Man, I love that kid.

J and I had already decided to call the anniversary of Z's arrival "Family Day," but N's questions made me think about it in a new light. What if we broadened the celebration beyond Z's adoption and just took a day every year to simply celebrate our family? After all, if we're going to call it Family Day, then that's what it should be about. We'll still mark February 28 as a special day for Z - the day he met his brothers, the day he arrived at his new home, the day our family was all together for the first time.* But Family Day will be for all of us, a chance to celebrate the work of God in our lives, bringing us together, giving us each other, making us a family.

This celebration will almost certainly morph and change with our family over the years, but we're kicking it off with two traditions: an overnight getaway and a video 'yearbook.' Each year we'll videotape the kids answering a few simple questions about themselves, asking them the same questions each year to show how they change over time. For now we'll celebrate in February, since that's when our family became complete, but if/when God gives us more children maybe the time of year will change.

So... tomorrow is Family Day and we're going to Great Wolf Lodge! The big boys are over the moon already and Z is feeding off of their excitement even though he doesn't know what's coming. He absolutely loves the water, so I'm pretty confident that once he gets over the noise (it's pretty loud in there with all the waterfalls and splashing and whatnot), he's gonna have a ball. We'll swim, slide, play, rest, and give glory to God for blessing us with one another. Happy Family Day!

*FYI in case you're interested, tentative plans for February 28 include: doro wat, injera, popcorn, and some quality time with the boys watching videos, looking at pictures, and telling stories about our trips to Ethiopia. Oh, and thanking Jesus for a precious boy and a miraculous year together.

3 in a cart at Costco today

family day

On February 28, 2011 we walked off a plane and began life as a family of five. We have a few plans and ideas for how to celebrate the upcoming first anniversary of this amazing day, which I'll share below, but first I want to tell you about how I was recently and unexpectedly whisked back to that moment - the moment our family was together for the first time.

The boys were playing on my parents' computer a few days ago, watching home videos of themselves and their cousins. I was half-watching, half-checked-out, relaxed and thankful to have a moment of peace at the end of a busy day. N clicked to the next video and my head snapped up to see a fuzzy-headed brown-skinned boy being led onto an escalator by a tall, handsome white guy: shock. Tears. I have never seen this footage. Only now do I vaguely remember my brother having a video camera, but in the aftermath of Z's arrival I had forgotten all about it.

As N clicked through the videos one by one I couldn't hold back the emotion. A year ago I experienced that momentous day through the lens of exhaustion, jet lag, unrealistic expectations, and healthy dose of fear. My memories of it are colored by the sleepless nights and tantrum-packed days that followed. Watching those scenes the other night felt like recovering something precious, like the long-awaited fulfillment of a promise, like scales falling off my eyes. It was pure gift.

Viewing the event through the camera's perspective made me see it all with new eyes. So much beauty jumped off the screen: the genuine excitement and joy of my family members, meeting Z for the first time. N's gentle sweetness, taking Z's hand and leading him around the baggage area. The easy smile D gave his new brother, already trying to make Z laugh. And his mother, eyes bright with exhaustion and something else: a love she didn't know she was giving, receiving. She kissed his forehead, he clung to her shirt and rested his cheek on her chest. At the time those exterior acts of affection felt false, while the swirls of frustration, fear, and ambivalence under the surface seemed all too real... but watching it now I see that I had it backwards. I see a mother who loves her son. Her fear and self-condemnation breaks my heart: I want to give her a hug, bring her some strong coffee, look her square in the eyes and say, "You're doing just fine, mama. Just fine."

We finished watching and D asked me why I was crying. I told him it was because I just realized I am the luckiest mommy in the whole world. And I am.

*Oops I forgot to write about our plans for Family Day 2012... more coming soon.

marriage letters

I'm participating in a link-up this week, hosted by Amber @ The Run a Muck. Here's what she has to say about it:

Join me and Seth (and also Joy and Scott) as we work hard to preserve marriage by writing marriage letters. There may be only a handful of us doing it, but if you’ve written a letter or a post for your spouse, please do add your link and be sure to link back to us so others can be encouraged. Especially in this stage of small children, it’s been good for me to see that we aren’t alone, and if you’re past this stage, it’s good to know that you’ve made it.

------------------

Dear J,

I am snuggled into my parents' guest bed, listening to the howling wind and spattering rain, waiting for you.

The boys were wild tonight, or so I'm told. The sweet babysitter earned every penny... They missed us. (Or maybe they're just wild.) It's a hard habit to break: telling you about the kids first. They're the loudest news, but not all there is to say.

I'm proud of you. Scrubbing floors and washing windows in our empty home, working while your family rests. I don't think there is any task you wouldn't do for us. Tomorrow a stranger will come with his camera, capturing the rooms where we laugh and bathe and scold and hold each other. On the flier they'll be bright and generic, as if anyone could do this, live here. We'll sell the walls and floors, but keep the sound of Matchbox car races on hardwood floors, the smell of sleepy boys between us on a Saturday morning, the window reflection of our long hugs in the kitchen when all the dishes are done.

Do I tell you that I need you? I do. Our house is just a house; God made you to be my home.

Love,
H

wild weather, perfect feet, and a quick getaway

It's been crazy around here lately: snow, ice, unexpected house guests, power outages, a weekend away, and an exciting trip to the doctor, all in the last 7 days!

Last week we had our first (and hopefully only) major snow event of the season, which meant no school, no work, and no driving anywhere for a few days. Then an ice storm hit, followed by more snow, which meant many downed trees and branches, causing power outages that affected us and over 300,000 other residents for two full days (and longer for some). In the meantime, we took in some friends of friends who were stranded in Seattle for three days trying to get back to Southern California. We love house guests and the boys were thrilled to make friends with Kristen and Karen, a mother/daughter pair from Orange County - great folks.





Anyway, the reason I'm bothering to blog about this is because in the midst of this big storm we still managed to make it across the city to Z's follow up appointment with his pediatric orthopedic doctor. I didn't want to drive that far in the ice and snow, but when I called to reschedule their next available was in May! Considering there was a possibility that Z might need surgery in April I was not about to wait that long, so we borrowed my parents' 4WD SUV and braved the roads. It turned out to be worth the trip because the doc took one good look at Z's foot and pronounced his club foot to be totally corrected! He recommended we continue to use his orthotic brace at night until he turns three, and he wants to see us again in a year, but other than that we are DONE. Praise God!

In other exciting news, last weekend J and I had our first overnight trip away from the boys since Z came home. We went to Vegas for... wait for it... a baptism. Isn't that why everyone goes to Vegas? Our dear friends Mike and Nicole (who live there) asked us to be the godparents for their beautiful baby boy, who happens to share a name with Z. We were honored, and happy to come out for the baptism (OK, and a little fun at the tables too -- we actually won $70!).



This was our first time leaving Z for that long, and he did great. My parents were out of town too, but thankfully Z's preschool teacher is also a close family friend and one of the few people we would completely trust with all 3 of our boys, so she and her husband stayed with the kids and the weekend went well (aside from a few potty accidents... sorry Colleen! You're the best!). We've been back two days and so far I haven't seen any signs that our time away had any negative impact on Z or our attachment process... which means we should do it again soon, right?!

When I think back to where we were about 9 months ago, these two milestones seem utterly unbelievable. At that time Z's foot was in a cast, he hadn't been put to bed or fed by (much less left alone with) anyone but us since coming home, and I could just barely make out a pinprick of light at the end of the tunnel. I am so humbled and thankful for all that God has done to bring us from there to here!