Yeah, yeah, it's been a while. Call it life; call it chasing four kids and three dogs around, staining a house, plowing snow, building a fence, helping at school, throwing birthday parties and keeping tabs on a husband who's schedule is as variable as the weather...it is what it is. However, "IT" keeps me from being able (mentally or physically) to plant my butt in front of the computer for more than a few minutes at a time.
But, as this is a record for my family more than anything, I gots to get to it! So, here goes...
First of all, an update in pictures of our doings for the past few months...
Okay, you can stop there and go check your email if you just wanted an update on the family. If you're up for something a little deeper, get yer waders on and follow me...
I have debated how to write this entry for quite some time...simply because of not knowing how to relay my thoughts in a manner that wouldn't be misunderstood or taken the wrong way. It is something very close to me though, a struggle that I want to write down to perhaps help me, and perhaps others sitting in the same shoes, to see it clearer. Adoption is often treated like this warm and fuzzy fairy tale and no one wants to hear--or admit to--the nitty, gritty. Only happily-ever-after's allowed, thank you. But the truth, the terrible, awful truth of it is that adoption can really suck. Seriously. But, you have to realize, pregnancy and childbirth aren't always a bucket of fun either! The creation of a family, whether through biology or adoption or a mixture of both, is simply tough--and sometimes sucks--no matter how it occurs. It is a roller-coaster ride of epic proportions made worse by the fact that you can never truly see the curves or stomach-flopping drops that are coming. The key element which helps us parents keep it together through the hundreds of poopy diapers, crayon graffiti on the walls and temper tantrums in the checkout lane is the unconditional, blinding love which is born within us along with the child. When that child is not born of you, that love may come in a different manner and maybe even on a different chronology...but it comes. And when it doesn't, you have to make it happen.
I'm at the "make it happen" stage with my adorable-to-the-world 4 year old.
It's no secret that Colt and I have had our struggles with Queen Ro--she's a tough nut to crack. I have slowly come to the realization that, after 17 months home, my difficulty attaching to her is not her problem. It's mine. She's just a normal, ornery, know-it-all mule-headed preschooler, with a few extra issues to spice it up. She does have some attachment issues influenced by her past...how can she not? But her reaction to her life as it is is very typical of her emotional age (we're sure that she is older, but emotionally and physically she fits her legal age perfectly). Rodas views the world as revolving around her (typical of the age) and struggles with trying to control it (typical of the age) and all those in her immediate world. While her sister often bends over backwards to please Colt and I--something I am quite sure sadly stems from her trying to assure that we will not send her back or abandon her, Rodas continues to literally and figuratively spit in our faces (rarely in front of others, mind you) when she doesn't get her way or is admonished.
Worse than that, she can change her affections at the drop of a hat in a silent but obvious (to us) way that we know she has yet to truly care for or trust us. She can give you a look full of ice and daggers one minute and want hugs and cuddles the next without skipping a beat. We don't switch that fast. It is a constant push and pull and it is exhausting. I watch her with family, friends and strangers and see her time and again gravitate towards those bewitched by her--she will latch on, lavish them with dimples, giggles and affection, and leave them without a second thought (and often not even remember them later). This even includes close family. It is a common adoption/attachment issue; a way of assuring or procuring someone to take care of them should Mom or Dad leave. People think it's adorable. It makes me cry inside because I know she doesn't feel secure. And I know that it is partly my fault.
Noah was a tough toddler and I wasn't sure I'd survive him. Looking back, I know it was those soft moments when I'd find him sleeping peacefully in some crazily contorted position on his bed or watching him offer Dad the last precious Cheeto out of his little bag without hesitation that got me through. Those moments continue to bolster that powerful love that I felt when he was born, helping to restrain me from wringing his neck when he pees on a dog or hides his carrots under his dresser. I watch other preschoolers and, seeing their tantrums include whacking Mom, throwing toys and simply being a pill, I think "that kid would drive me nuts!" But I know how they put up with it. It's that love and those moments that get them through. It lets them take it and keep coming back for more. It's our job and it's why that love was sparked within us. Otherwise, the human population would have died out centuries ago...(0:
When you adopt a toddler, you are adopting a child at one of the most challenging stages of life (keep in mind, none of my kids are teenagers yet...). Wrap into that the fact that the child has likely been through a traumatic life situation dealing with loss of parents or caregivers--or simply never knowing either of those--and you've got a condition ripe to produce a challenging child. Now, add to that the fact that you don't even know this child--have never met him or her--when you decide to parent them. That's a situation ripe for attachment issues. There's a love you feel when you decide to adopt a child--and it is STRONG...similar to the love you feel for the babe growing in your womb. You haven't met them yet, but you KNOW them...you know that they are meant to be your child. Then when you meet them, that love metamorphoses and you learn to love the child that they are--and with adopted ones, all the emotional baggage they have already collected in their short lives--and let go of the child you imagined them to be. It is the true love, but so much harder.
With our girls, we have missed out of years of growing this love and getting to know them. You just have to jump right in and put that learning to love on the fast-track. And it does get put to the test...right from the get-go.
I had unconsciously expected it to be a two-way street, where we all work on learning to love each other. I was wrong. A wonderful speaker said something at church last week that slapped me upside the head. He said we have to teach our children how to love. We have to be the example for them to follow. We have to show them love for them to know it and give it back.
EEK!
I've been expecting for Rodas to meet me half-way...and I certainly haven't been teaching her well. She doesn't want for anything--I take great pains caring for her hair, clothing her well, reading books to her and playing games with her...but I don't think I'm showing her love well in a way that she understands. Every child--and adult for that matter--speaks a different language of love. For some it's through affection, some words, some gestures and some time spent with them. She speaks affection...and I don't do affection well, especially with a little girl that can cut me to the bone at any second. I see her affection lavished on others with no discern, so I have discounted the affection she gives to me as superficial. I also hold back, waiting for the flip to switch in her where she'll turn the cold-shoulder and defiantly disregard me.
I need to show her affection. I need to accept affection, even if it is superficial. And if I don't want to, I need to do it anyways. I've always known that, the books preach it. I do it to some extent...but not as much as I know that I need to. It just is finally, truly sinking in.
But it is hard. I find myself unconsciously avoiding her eyes because she will smother me or hurt me when I find them. I eat my lunch fast because she will talk to me incessantly and ask absurd questions and never finish her lunch if I sit with her too long. I don't play Barbies with her because...well, I really just don't like to play Barbies. But she does. She loves it.
And you may shake your head at it--because she's so adorable and just asking to be loved--but I'm thinking if you had to be on this journey with her 24/7 for the last 17 months as I have, you'd understand. I have not had the years of building and bolstering love with her...the little unguarded moments that get you through the tough times...and in fact, they probably won't come UNTIL I learn to love her. She will not show those adorable moments of true self until she feels totally loved and secure.
We all can show our love to another better. We all can step forward and love in another's language, without expecting them to meet us halfway. It is how we teach and how we, in turn, learn to love. So, I need to cowgirl up and work at love a whole lot more...
Wish me luck...
Happy Holidays!
But, as this is a record for my family more than anything, I gots to get to it! So, here goes...
First of all, an update in pictures of our doings for the past few months...
 |
| Exploring the Green Goblins of Sandwash Draw |
 |
| The Wild Horses of Sandwash |
 |
| Wyatt Turns 9 and has a SPOOKY Party!!! |
 |
| Nana and PopPop Visit! |
 |
| Halloween |
 |
| Yup, He Made It To 7! |
 |
| First Snow! |
 |
Three Eagles in Our Tree (can you find them?) |
 | |
| Birthday Barbie Turns 4! |
 |
| Hundreds of Helpless Underwear and Socks Lose Their Lives To the Loveable Four-Legged Terror |
Okay, you can stop there and go check your email if you just wanted an update on the family. If you're up for something a little deeper, get yer waders on and follow me...
I have debated how to write this entry for quite some time...simply because of not knowing how to relay my thoughts in a manner that wouldn't be misunderstood or taken the wrong way. It is something very close to me though, a struggle that I want to write down to perhaps help me, and perhaps others sitting in the same shoes, to see it clearer. Adoption is often treated like this warm and fuzzy fairy tale and no one wants to hear--or admit to--the nitty, gritty. Only happily-ever-after's allowed, thank you. But the truth, the terrible, awful truth of it is that adoption can really suck. Seriously. But, you have to realize, pregnancy and childbirth aren't always a bucket of fun either! The creation of a family, whether through biology or adoption or a mixture of both, is simply tough--and sometimes sucks--no matter how it occurs. It is a roller-coaster ride of epic proportions made worse by the fact that you can never truly see the curves or stomach-flopping drops that are coming. The key element which helps us parents keep it together through the hundreds of poopy diapers, crayon graffiti on the walls and temper tantrums in the checkout lane is the unconditional, blinding love which is born within us along with the child. When that child is not born of you, that love may come in a different manner and maybe even on a different chronology...but it comes. And when it doesn't, you have to make it happen.
I'm at the "make it happen" stage with my adorable-to-the-world 4 year old.
Worse than that, she can change her affections at the drop of a hat in a silent but obvious (to us) way that we know she has yet to truly care for or trust us. She can give you a look full of ice and daggers one minute and want hugs and cuddles the next without skipping a beat. We don't switch that fast. It is a constant push and pull and it is exhausting. I watch her with family, friends and strangers and see her time and again gravitate towards those bewitched by her--she will latch on, lavish them with dimples, giggles and affection, and leave them without a second thought (and often not even remember them later). This even includes close family. It is a common adoption/attachment issue; a way of assuring or procuring someone to take care of them should Mom or Dad leave. People think it's adorable. It makes me cry inside because I know she doesn't feel secure. And I know that it is partly my fault.
Noah was a tough toddler and I wasn't sure I'd survive him. Looking back, I know it was those soft moments when I'd find him sleeping peacefully in some crazily contorted position on his bed or watching him offer Dad the last precious Cheeto out of his little bag without hesitation that got me through. Those moments continue to bolster that powerful love that I felt when he was born, helping to restrain me from wringing his neck when he pees on a dog or hides his carrots under his dresser. I watch other preschoolers and, seeing their tantrums include whacking Mom, throwing toys and simply being a pill, I think "that kid would drive me nuts!" But I know how they put up with it. It's that love and those moments that get them through. It lets them take it and keep coming back for more. It's our job and it's why that love was sparked within us. Otherwise, the human population would have died out centuries ago...(0:
When you adopt a toddler, you are adopting a child at one of the most challenging stages of life (keep in mind, none of my kids are teenagers yet...). Wrap into that the fact that the child has likely been through a traumatic life situation dealing with loss of parents or caregivers--or simply never knowing either of those--and you've got a condition ripe to produce a challenging child. Now, add to that the fact that you don't even know this child--have never met him or her--when you decide to parent them. That's a situation ripe for attachment issues. There's a love you feel when you decide to adopt a child--and it is STRONG...similar to the love you feel for the babe growing in your womb. You haven't met them yet, but you KNOW them...you know that they are meant to be your child. Then when you meet them, that love metamorphoses and you learn to love the child that they are--and with adopted ones, all the emotional baggage they have already collected in their short lives--and let go of the child you imagined them to be. It is the true love, but so much harder.
With our girls, we have missed out of years of growing this love and getting to know them. You just have to jump right in and put that learning to love on the fast-track. And it does get put to the test...right from the get-go.
I had unconsciously expected it to be a two-way street, where we all work on learning to love each other. I was wrong. A wonderful speaker said something at church last week that slapped me upside the head. He said we have to teach our children how to love. We have to be the example for them to follow. We have to show them love for them to know it and give it back.
EEK!
I've been expecting for Rodas to meet me half-way...and I certainly haven't been teaching her well. She doesn't want for anything--I take great pains caring for her hair, clothing her well, reading books to her and playing games with her...but I don't think I'm showing her love well in a way that she understands. Every child--and adult for that matter--speaks a different language of love. For some it's through affection, some words, some gestures and some time spent with them. She speaks affection...and I don't do affection well, especially with a little girl that can cut me to the bone at any second. I see her affection lavished on others with no discern, so I have discounted the affection she gives to me as superficial. I also hold back, waiting for the flip to switch in her where she'll turn the cold-shoulder and defiantly disregard me.
I need to show her affection. I need to accept affection, even if it is superficial. And if I don't want to, I need to do it anyways. I've always known that, the books preach it. I do it to some extent...but not as much as I know that I need to. It just is finally, truly sinking in.
But it is hard. I find myself unconsciously avoiding her eyes because she will smother me or hurt me when I find them. I eat my lunch fast because she will talk to me incessantly and ask absurd questions and never finish her lunch if I sit with her too long. I don't play Barbies with her because...well, I really just don't like to play Barbies. But she does. She loves it.
And you may shake your head at it--because she's so adorable and just asking to be loved--but I'm thinking if you had to be on this journey with her 24/7 for the last 17 months as I have, you'd understand. I have not had the years of building and bolstering love with her...the little unguarded moments that get you through the tough times...and in fact, they probably won't come UNTIL I learn to love her. She will not show those adorable moments of true self until she feels totally loved and secure.
We all can show our love to another better. We all can step forward and love in another's language, without expecting them to meet us halfway. It is how we teach and how we, in turn, learn to love. So, I need to cowgirl up and work at love a whole lot more...
Wish me luck...
Happy Holidays!
