Mending with Individual Time

I have three little kids that act like little kids and sometimes (most of the time) it feels like hubby and I are on DEFCON AHHHHHHH! as we try to manage the myriad of behaviors, relationships, triggers, stressors, and issues that come with this life we’ve been handed given blessed with. Each child IS a blessing, but at some point the blessings need to learn not to threaten others with sticks, that you don’t get combo points in life for simultaneously pouting, stomping, and whining, and that when mom/dad tells you to do something you don’t like T-Rex style ROARING in their face is not an acceptable response. (the names were withheld to protect the guilty)

So, yeah. We plan to have a very intentional summer with the kids, but it’s not just about behavior it’s about their hearts (and our blood pressure), and bringing some peace and unity back to our family. Hearts and behavior go together like peanut butter and jelly (just to keep this kid-friendly). You can have one without the other, but it just makes a mess. I mentioned before that my word these days is “mend”. We’re taking a multi-pronged approach because generally those are the only ones which work to produce lasting change.

The area that we’re tackling first is spending more 1:1 time with the kids. ALL of our kids need this, some more than others, but still it has to happen for each of them. For one of my kids, I suspect this is going to be his love-language. Some of the 1:1 time will just be purely for the sake of spending time together and in other places the 1:1 time is dual-purposed. It will be time alone together and it will also help us meet other goals that we have with that particular child as well. Here’s our plan to get one on one time with them.

Pickle & Boohoo: (same goal, but done individually) READ 460 BOOKS BETWEEN JUNE 1-AUG 31. It boils down to 5 books (each) every day. That allows that child to be the chief Page Turner, Lap Sitter, Comment Maker, Question Answerer, Attention Soaker-Inner and the goal is really to do this alone and not with the other kids hanging about so that means that books read en masse don’t really count because the whole point is to not make that kid compete for attention. Peanut can (and does) listen without butting in so we don’t worry too much about him listening in. It’s mostly about not having the babies clamoring/clambering over each other. I made them each a “Book Book” which is basically a sticker chart so we can keep track. Yes, we’re already behind. It’s a work-in-progress.

Peanut:  Bike Riding Chart. Peanut needs the chance to do things that the babies aren’t doing and to burn off some of that 5 year old boy energy and use those muscles and large motor skills more than just in the backyard. This was one of his favorite things to do before we moved and unfortunately here we’re not set up for it the same way. He has to ride in the street, which is an extremely quiet and rarely traveled residential street, but obviously involves an adult right beside him. We didn’t set a specific goal because this is a little more complicated to work out since I can’t do this with him until Andrew comes home from work, but his chart goes up to 1560 minutes which would be a little under twenty minutes a day, if we hit 1000 minutes that’s about ten minutes a day, an hour a week would be 790 minutes approximately. The point here is that little boys like bike riding and they like the sound of all those big numbers. lol. His page has a little calendar at the bottom for him to use as a countdown as well. In the first week…we’ve only gotten him out there for twenty minutes. Yikes.

Boohoo’s Weekly Schedule. Maybe you’ve heard rumblings, but we have some attachment problems in this house. Boohoo needs extra time with Andrew and I so we can intentionally be working on nothing except being together and making it fun. Leaving this up to spontaneously happening every day isn’t good enough. It’s like how therapists tell overly scheduled married couples to schedule sex, personal trainers tell their clients to write in their exercise time and commit to it, burgeoning writers set dedicated writing time, military squadrons have mandatory morale building, and therapeutic parents have enforced bonding. We call it “Fifteen Focused Minutes with Boohoo”. To totally make this as excuse-proof as possible I set up what we should do each day, maybe I’ll change it in July, maybe I won’t. I tried to pick a variety of things for us to do inside, outside, “girly” things, things Andrew won’t rather stab himself in the eye when it’s his turn, etc.

Monday: Coloring, Tuesday: Playing Outside, Wednesday: Stickers, Thursday: Playing with toys in her room, Friday: Play a game, Saturday: Paint nails, Sunday: Go on a walk.

We haven’t hit every day and just to be totally nerdy-real to you, I need to make a spreadsheet so we can track ourselves, but we’re making an effort and we’ve done more days than we’ve missed. In a week do you know what I’ve noticed? She loves it. Oh my word, does this girl thrive as the center of attention! She does so well that I get bogged down in my own mental quicksand (that she would be a different (healthier) child if she was the youngest/only and hadn’t been artificially twinned and therefore we are the wrong family for her and are making her life worse). I think it means something to her as well because we get more attitude and pushing away the next day. It means something to us as well. She is so much easier to enjoy on her own and so it’s nice to have that time of interacting with her that is positive and less ruled by her insecurity and anxiety.

Mend:

1. to make (something broken, worn, torn, or otherwise damaged) whole, sound, or usable by repairing

2. to remove or correct defects or errors in

3. to set right; make better; improve

The world according to Peanut

After the serious post about adoption and churches I decided to go a little light-hearted with this one while I formulate the follow-up post. Peanut is never at a loss for words. He is silly, smart, sensitive, and sassy all within the same day (hour). He is challenge to parent, for sure, and I never know if I should scream or cry when dealing with him…and so usually we just choose to laugh. He cracks us up and is such a gift. Here is some of the funny stuff!

To Boohoo, nicely, at breakfast

“You are a crazy girl, but I am five and NOT crazy. I bet when you’re five you’ll be okay.”

To our new neighbor, who is a mandated reporter

“We live in the bushes, but mom and dad let us come in for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

To me, some wisdom regarding his sister

“Can you tell her not to say, 'what about me?' Doesn't she know you always take care of her too?"

And

“I know what she's doing. She WANTS me to get in trouble. It's actually not very nice and I don't have to fall for it. I didn't realize it before, but now I do."

Kitty Safety & Burgeoning Literary Skills

“I know why we can’t let Boris outside. He could get into the street and be run over by a truck. He would be like a banana smashed against a mirror.”

On Cleanliness to his maid mother after stepping on something sticky,

“When was the last time you swabbed the deck?”

The Topic of Visitors

Peanut: "Guess who is coming today?!"
Me: "I don't know. Who?"
Peanut: "I'll give you one guess. He is invisible and his name starts with G."
Me: "Googoola?"
Peanut: "How in the world did you get that right?!"
Me: "I don't know that many invisible people, actually."
Peanut: "Huh, well that's boring."

The importance of accurate definitions

Peanut: Prepare for death, Boohoo!
Pickle: Prepare for the death, Boohoo!
Boohoo: No! I'm eating!
Me: What's 'death' mean guys?
Peanut: You know mom, when you need to duck from something dangerous about to happen upon you.
Me: That's not quite what 'death' means. Explanation.
Peanut: Why didn't you tell me that before I said it to my SISTER? What's were you thinking, mom?!
Pickle: Yeah!
Me: So sorry boys.

A Low-Key Mother’s Day

When I got up this morning I went to use the bathroom and while I was doing so Peanut barged in, announced, "I have to go potty." Then added, 'don't forget, it's Mother's Day."

Getting Enough Sleep

Peanut: yawned while staying up late

Me: You yawned. Are you ready for bed?

Peanut: That wasn’t a yawn, mom, that was a slow sneeze.

And then, just because they’re *all* cute and it just so happens that Peanut has the most skill with verbalizing it

The Hardest Place To Be

I grew up in church. Anyone else who grew up in church knows what that phrase means, for the rest of you it means that I was there for Sunday School, Sunday morning service, Sunday evening service, Wednesday night, Vacation Bible School, Church Camp, Youth Group, and I was a Bible Quizzer. If it was church time I was at church starting the first Sunday after my birth and continuing unless I was dead and even then probably I should go anyway and pray for healing. I’m not complaining. At all. For me, growing up in church was an almost wholly positive experience and has definitely shaped the course of my life (any my next one).

I expected and it was expected that my kids would grow up in church and this same manner. Shoot, it would have made my mom ecstatic for me to raise my kids in the same church that I was raised in and where she and my dad still attend. It hasn’t worked out that way though for my mom, me, or my kids. I still intend to raise them in church and seeing as they’re still all preschoolers hopefully we’ll have this worked out soon and they’ll never know differently. The reality is that in our life post-adoption I have found church to be the hardest place to be.

I’m not talking about the crazy logistics of getting the kids all clean, presentable, fed, dressed, and delivered intact to a church building in the morning although all moms know that’s nothing to scoff at, especially since now my clumsy fingers are responsible for Boohoo’s beautiful curls too. I’ll go looking like a mop-head, but not her!

I’m not talking about the difficulty of finding a church that we want to be long-standing members of, or the church where my daughter was compared to a sponsored child in Tanzania, the church that we were the youngest attendees by a solid two decades, the church that was annoyed because my three year old is in pull-ups, or that church that was so big that sometimes there wasn’t anymore room in Sunday School for the kids, or the churches that say they are diverse, but might not actually know what that word means, or the churches where women are only the secretaries and Children’s Program Directors, or the church where they came to get me because my son refused to do their craft and crawled under the table, had to be pulled out, and then I had to stay with him until they were done their stupid craft.

I am talking about the ministry of adoption. Adoption is hot in churches right now and I appreciate that, but I find it to be a little Titanic-esque (spoiler alert if you’re holding out Titanic 3-D). They’re going full steam ahead to promote adoption and there’s this little bit of ice in the water that is Reality (of who needs to be adopted, preventing adoption wherever possible, foster kids, and supporting kids and families once they are home), but it’s not just a little bit of ice, it turns out to be a giant iceberg and it sinks a  perfectly great ship and hurts/kills lots of perfectly great people. There are a few different nationwide church conferences regarding adoption and I’ve never been to one, maybe they’re talking about this stuff that is less cute than fundraising to bring home a baby and never having a problem again. It’s completely possible that some churches have support groups for the families and children who have been hurt before and by adoption, but I’ve never seen that played out at a local level. The truth that I know is that of all the “trauma mamas” that I know I can think of only a small handful that have found their church to be a place of support and encouragement for their struggles.

I am talking about the Adoption Conversation that you want me to have with you.

Church: “Is your daughter adopted?”

Me: “Yes.” Smile.

Church: “That’s great. We have a huge heart for adoption. Person ABC runs XYZ Ministry/Non-profit to help people adopt. Our pastor’s sister’s adopted from Country LMNOP. She says the wait was so hard, but adoption has been the Most Best Good Thing for their family. EVER.” Expectant smile.

I know my lines. I’m supposed to say that the wait was the hardest part, but I had faith and we made it through and it’s been wonderful ever since then. Or maybe, if I want to be really radical I can go with the Rough Transition Story. It goes like this, “The wait was so hard. I don’t know why I can’t just fly over there and pick up any orphan I want. (laugh) But man, we thought that was hard, but then we got home and things were really hectic. We just prayed and prayed and prayed that it would get easier. It was hard for two months and then all my faith paid off and God did what he was supposed to do all along and made it all better. We are so grateful that we no longer struggle in any fashion. God is good because everything is easy now.”

Luckily, by the time I’ve heard whatever adoption connection story the person I’m talking to has to share there’s only time for a short awkward pause and smile before one of my kids is doing something bad and so I don’t have to try and say anything else, sometimes I have time to say something like, “It’s been tricky, but good. We’re making it.” But even that gets me strange looks.

I know it’s just supposed to be a superficial conversation and it’s done with good intentions, but it hurts me. It stresses me out in advance. Our story is not easy and does not condense easily into a sound bite. I find it exhausting and hypocritical to feel like I’m dressing us up, putting on our happy face, and presenting us as whole and thriving so that we can go to the same church long enough to admit that we are hurting and breaking and in need. I hate it.

I want to feel like there is acceptance to say that we have faith and we’re praying, but every day is hard. We have faith and we’re praying, but our daughter has trauma and attachment issues and we have attachment issues and we have sibling rivalry like you’ve never seen before, and all my kids are stressed out, and we are doing everything that we know how to do for each one of them, and yes, life is hard right now, and adoption is good, but it’s the hardest good that I’ve ever done in my life, and I don’t know if any of my kids are going to think it’s good when they grow up, and yes, I’m praying and I have been praying for two years now. And dear church person, I’m not spewing all this at you to scare you, to be hateful, or to blackmail a homemade meal delivered to my door (although church ladies can cook!) but because I want you to know that:

- an adoption ministry that ends when the child is brought home is not enough

and

- an ongoing struggle in life doesn’t mean I’m not praying or faithful or that solving it is just a matter of more prayer or more faith

So, even though I was raised in church and know better than to let what is mostly my own issue (and some of the church’s) stand in my way church is the hardest place for me to be right now when I know we need it the most.