One More Time...or One Million

http://www.scribd.com/doc/13484/How-To-Get-Your-Preschoolers-To-Listen-To-Respect-You

So, the entire article could be an exact re-print of our lives, every day, many times per day, until it gets to this part, which has never happened:

"Needless to say, when I returned to cover positions in that classroom, I NEVER had to talk to him again about dropping his friends off the teeter-totter"

If only.

Oh, and that exact scenario actually happened on the weekend.

Nothing like constant repeat violations of every basic household and social rule, often within minutes, to make one pretty convinced of one's ineffectiveness as a parent, and as a facilitator of attachment (as I envision will one day be evidenced by blissfully and mutually respectful, serene parent-child relationships. Indeed).

If I was more convinced all this lack of compliance was substantially linked with attachment stuff, I might put more effort into using a more exclusively attachment-oriented approach - or if I was more motivated to do the thing with less evident short-term, but more evident long-term, potential results. Or if I felt strongly that there was an organic inability to link cause-effect and learn from experience. Perhaps there is truth in all of that - we have no way of knowing. But darn it, I would really like to see even a speck of progress in the rule-following and inhibition department after nearly one year. Even a speck would be lovely.

(And yes, it is possible there are some specks I cannot currently see in the midst of a frustrating couple of weeks - because I think a couple of weeks ago, I even commented to Geoff that one child appeared to be managing impulses a bit better. Think I forgot to knock wood when I said that. And I realize his self-control issues are mostly of very little clinical significance. And that the other has a personality perhaps less inclined to "remember" details - like the specifics of rules, among other factors. So I guess this post-script is a bit of a disclaimer, and admission of awareness of my bias at the moment. But I also believe myself to be a fairly accurate observer of things, so I still stand by the spirit of my observations. And I truly believe these boys can be pretty high on the sensitive, strong-willed, determined, feisty, assertive, omnipotent end of things, so I tend to be sensitive and [internally] reactive myself when people suggest it is ALL just "normal" preschooler stuff [or imply, at least in my imagination, that perhaps my perceptions have something to do with having three children of three different ages all at once]. Normal, with a cherry on top, perhaps. And some whipped cream. And when I am more lively one day, and more positive, I need to do a post on 3 and 4 year-old cuteness and brilliance. One of these days. I promise-ish. And I feel the need to state that they are not usually overly defiant...except when they are...which is often, recently - it's actually almost the opposite much of the time...kind of a frighteningly adolescent non-chalant disregarding of rules and instructions, with an occasional, casually-stated, "Well, I didn't want to do what you asked, so I did this instead." Publicly, they may throw fits at times, but most often show off their charming-ness quite nicely - and we deal with things as quietly as possible in public, which means others see lots of cute and not much of the other - or they see the "cute" not-doing-what-has-been-asked-stuff, like crawling across the stage during Sunday School open session while all the other children are seated nicely on the carpet watching the leader. Uh huh.).

Patterns of Occupation

I had another opportunity to observe some differences in the boys' ability to occupy themselves today. It was evident almost right away after meeting them that Kitch (3.5) possesses a great imagination, and quickly becomes absorbed in activities much of the time (with some definite exceptions, but overall, it is enjoyable and satisfying to watch him enter into play). Lute, however (4.5) very rarely sticks with anything for more than 2-5 minutes, rarely concludes a play scenario (this also includes leaving made-up stories dangling), and even then, there is little creativity or variety in his play (which usually involves a matchbox-type car). He abandons efforts pretty quickly when something becomes challenging.

When playing independently, he constantly comes over to provide commentary on what he is doing, ask us questions, ask us to play with him, etc. (this is despite efforts to spend specific time playing, interacting, etc., and can even be worse when he has had lots of direct play with us). Even with all the hopping around he does, Lute can play on his own for some time without a lot of direct intervention, but he does need encouragement to stick with things and focus on the moment, rather than constantly talking/wondering about what is next (he does this with any daily activity, and can make it difficult for all of us to immerse ourselves in something, or linger over a moment).

Certainly there are times when Lute chooses and sticks with something constructive for a while, but I have not seen as much progress in this regard as I had hoped starting last summer. With a companion, especially an adult who is guiding or teaching him (he loves technical and scientific knowledge, and academic learning), Lute can be quite engaged for reasonably long periods of time. He will even sit for quite a while and have us read to him from fairly advanced books. He has a thirst for knowledge and zest for life that is remarkable, so I don't mean to paint him as disinterested or disengaged with the world around him - the trouble seems to lie in committing to one focus for a period of time, perhaps because he is always aware of other possibilities, and once the thought of "what's next" enters his mind, he cannot become involved enough in the present to relax and go with it. Too many choices may also be part of this, and he likely does some of his best play during rest time, when he has one toy at his disposal, along with books.

When left to occupy himself, focus and productivity often crumble quickly. In the presence of others, he will dive into the midst of adult conversation, zooming toys in front of people's faces, interrupting conversations, sometimes jumping on people (although thankfully, this seems to have abated quite a bit recently - but if you initiate any kind of physical gesture, even a handshake, be prepared...). He has some difficulty joining same-age peers in play, is very directive with his siblings, and gravitates toward older kids and adults when given the choice. Lute rarely assumes an alter-ego - typically he plays as himself, again, offering commentary on what he is doing without fully immersing himself in a role.

Kitch can, of course, demonstrate some of these qualities as well, but not much that seems excessive for a 3 year-old. (His issues lie more in regard to task focus when it involves anything other than play, and a general lack of thoughtfulness regarding possessions, where he puts them, how to find them, whether to pick them up, etc.). In a store, for instance, Kitch is most likely to wander, start playing with something, etc. Lute, however, might start tearing in circles around the stroller with no warning at all, or grab a container of honey off of a grocery shelf and start shaking it vigourously.

Anyway, Lute does seem to be the more extroverted of the two boys, and more sensory-seeking and generally physical in his play, which would explain some of his need for frequent interaction. He appears uncomfortable not being the centre of attention. Kitch can zone out in front of a movie, while Lute looks for any excuse to hop up, moves around frequently, and is rarely playing attention by the end. When sitting on my lap, I often have to remind Lute to remain still, be gentle, etc., while Kitch melts into me.

So, this morning we headed to a local library for the first time (yeah, I need to become better acquainted with such facilities). For quite a while both boys were well-occupied with the toys and computers (Caye immediately sat at the kids' table to draw, and then puttered around with toys and computers the rest of the time). Eventually, though, I honed in on Lute a bit, realizing he was falling into his pattern of restless movement between activities, not really settling with anything for very long. I intervened when he started appearing very disorganized, literally wandering without apparent purpose to glance at something, floating away, and even developing a wobbling, almost drunken gait, kicking (unknowingly) at a toy in his path, etc. I had him sit with me at the little table, and asked if he could describe for me what I had seen, what he had been doing, etc. He had no idea. I suggested he sit with some drawing or choose a few books to re-focus. He agreed, then stood up and started walking around/away from the table. I asked what he had decided to do, thinking he was headed for books. He stated that he was going to draw, and yet he had just risen from the seat directly in front of the crayons and paper, and was now on the other side of the table, appearing totally unaware of himself.

Hmm. I realize that some of the boys' differences simply reflect who they are, and that is fine (and some of my frustrations with a child who has difficulty initiating and sustaining play are likely more my issues, and call for creativity on my part in anticipating and managing them). But...some of this seems worthy of additional attention. I have a few ideas to manage the physical/impulsive stuff, and we have seen some progress (I think some of it was actually just about teaching some basic social skills and practising restraint). I need to keep brainstorming the aimlessness and restlessness, though, as I still feel a bit helpless to help Lute in this area.

I use timers occasionally, and after seeing him grab the most convenient little car for the 4th time in day, I will sometimes re-direct him to choose something else, like a puzzle or building toy. I am not sure how much to intervene when he spends a nice amount of time building a train track, and then walks away from it without actually moving on to play trains.

I could write a whole other post about some of Kitch's play quirks, like his apparently complete lack of interest (or confidence?) in drawing and fine motor work, and the eternally mind-numbingly frustrating distractibility (both natural and contrived - sometimes obvious, sometimes hard to sort out) when it comes to accomplishing routine tasks. Perhaps sometime I will tackle that one, but I wanted to think through some of my observations about Lute today, as the disorganized/overwhelmed behaviour at the library really caught my attention.

At this point, little Caye (nearly 2) is showing great promise in regard to fine motor and drawing (sat for two hours earlier this week, with markers, paint, Play-Doh, etc.), and imaginary and constructive role play. I suppose my interest in these particular areas of development say something about me, and what I value when it comes to the kids' pursuits!

Ok then, I don't really know how to wrap this up, so perhaps I will just call it a night.

Tidbits and Snippets and Adjustment Updates

Nothin' much new happening around here these days. Oh, well, other than my part-time return to work last week (so thankful for one of the most flexible jobs out there, which is mostly work-from-home). Week one went well, and any adjustment-related stress for all of us is being quite nicely mitigated by Geoff taking four months of parental leave. Hooray! No idea how we will navigate things after that point.

After a delightful Christmas, January saw a resurgence of dramatic/whiny/reactive/less-than-honest/petulant behaviour from one child, and of angry/non-compliant/oppositional/moody/sneaky behaviour in another. Little Caye has developed an even more assertive voice at 22 months of age, and overall, continues to mesmerize us with her brilliance and charm. With Lute, the dramatic stuff seems to have slowed down in the past week or two...and actually, we've had a week of less intense angry stuff from Kitch as well. Still getting the "no!" responses, turning away, and refusal to comply, but without the intense raging and restraining - there has been some choosing to settle and get back on track, which is amazing and refreshing.

I think a couple of factors may be at play here. One is that Kitch seems to be processing some of his loss and transition stuff in a new way, perhaps with the advent of increased cognitive capacities and language (at 3.5, we are seeing signs that he is shifting developmentally, both socially and cognitively/linguistically). Lute was nearly four when he came to us, and before and during transition had the chance to piece things together and express his feelings about moving (something he did NOT want to do). By the time he was home, he had verbalized increased willingness to be part of our family and let us "take care" of him. Overall, with a few ups and downs, I think his attachment and transition have generally progressed along an upward trajectory. Kitch, at two (nearly three) was pretty laid back about moving in with us. He expressed very little verbally or behaviourally in regard to leaving his first family, and focused most of his energies on grasping the basic concept of our family make-up. He easily accepted and sought out affection early on, called us "Mom" and "Dad", and basically went along with it all.

One event just a few weeks ago, in January, led to some of these musings on my part: the boys' foster/first family made a video last spring, showing the family (with our boys present), familiar sights and activities, etc. We watched it together last July, and the boys actually paid very little attention to much of it, talking and playing throughout (which surprised us a bit). While reminiscing over breakfast one day in January, they expressed interest in seeing the video again. After watching it, Lute happily went off to play, noting that it had been fun to see it. Kitch, however, looked quite glum, and identified feeling sad afterward. This is when I started wondering if he was experiencing a new awareness of his loss and transition to our family, including working through feelings of safety and trust.

His response fit with some of his other strong emotions and reactions throughout the month (things like becoming furious and fighting to get away from me in a parking lot after I snatched him away from the wheel of a car that started to back up, after he managed to scoot over and start playing with the tire with his foot while I focused on Caye for a moment. Lute's responses in similar situations - like when he pulled away from us and stopped in the street to bend and pick something up as a car approached - are more appropriate, including fear, tears, and a realization that we protected him from harm - um, these examples explain why I still rely on stroller containment for the boys when I am out with all three, particularly on my own), as well as increased intensity in his "baby" play (he often wants to be "Baby Johnny", and stays in character for long stretches of time, wanting to be cuddled, etc.).

Another observation, since seeing an increased capacity/willingness in Kitch to calm himself, and reduce the intensity of his anger, is that there may be a correlation with re-visiting some of our responses to him. I went back to the attachment books (after spending a lot of time with "general" parenting books), and tried to review what has and has not seemed effective with the boys. Generally, I have been making a greater effort to remain soothing rather than strict, give him chances to alter his behaviour before it is "too late" (likely one of the harder things for me, as I had really been leaning toward a "one chance to do it right, because you know what is expected and need to show respect the first time" approach), sticking with him through the initial stages of the anger (rather than moving away in response to repeated defiance and lashing out), empathizing with how difficult it can be to make "good/wise/respectful decisions" when feeling angry - and encouraging him to do so anyway (with examples of how he has done it before), keeping him directly under my supervision - time in - until he calms - but not insisting on a specific chair/spot so as to avoid power struggles (and while ignoring any wailing and wiggling designed to get my attention, barring unsafe/aggressive behaviour toward objects or people), and trying to be very consistent with expecting him to rehearse the appropriate behaviour afterward (sometimes multiple times).

All this is not a total about-face in terms of our response, but there is greater commitment to working with him during the anger, and increased effort is being made to remain very gentle and calm, while also making the expectations and consequences very clear (e.g., trying to avoid being unnecessarily military in getting my point across while still being consistent). I would like to think the shift in approach is helping, because then I have hope that things may continue to improve incrementally (but we have had a few such weeks of reprieve before, so time will tell). Now, I am still seeing ridiculously frequent and excessive defiance over very minor requests (from my perspective, although I realize Kitch is feeling things strongly in those moments - to him it is a big deal). So, the intensity has vastly improved, and the frequency has likely gone up a bit. But at this point, I am celebrating some progress toward greater self-control.

Today we had an interesting incident. I intervened as the boys squabbled over a pair of moccasins (Kitch was convinced they were his, only because they were the only pair he could find - wishful thinking)! When I quietly removed the moccasins because both boys were not using words or respectful actions to resolve the issue, Kitch became angry with me. After calming down, I sat down with him, and said something about him being angry at me. He replied that no, he was not angry at me, he was angry at himself. And it seems that my flighty and stubborn little three year-old, who avoids the mental effort of self-reflection at all costs, realized that he was actually upset with himself for not being able to find his moccasins, and simply directed his anger at me when I arrived on the scene. Insight!

Ok, my brain and eyes need to rest. I have a quick, cute Kitch story from Sunday. I wore my Karen skirt to church (a colourful, woven item, purchased and sewn for me in a refugee camp we visited in Thailand). Geoff was describing the male version, which he owns but was not wearing, and Kitch asked Geoff if the folk in the camp threw him into a pit while he was wearing the "taku". We were confused for a moment, but then pieced together that Kitch must have seen my skirt and been reminded of Joseph's "coat of many colours", which led to the pit association. We assured him that the Karen people we met were incredibly kind and friendly, so there was no risk of being tossed into a pit and left to expire, while wearing a colourful woven garment.

And finally, Caye freaked us out a little at supper-time (fluke, I'm sure, but quite funny - or she is reading tone and context really well, which is also impressive): Geoff spelled out to me, wondering whether the kids needed a b-a-t-h this evening, and Caye, who had been listening, exclaimed, "Bath night!"

And on that note, good-night.

Subtle

At first it was a casual observation on my part, but later I realized the significance, however subtle...

This morning, at our town cenotaph during Remembrance Day ceremonies, a man (friendly, holding a printed program, so having something to do with the event) moved over to stand by me and the kids (me on one side of the boys, this man on the other), who were a little removed from the crowd, smiling and greeting us. And my boys, without hesitation, looked at the man, then up at me, and came over and physically leaned against me while holding my gaze and sneaking one or two more small glances toward the man.

I nearly missed it, maybe because it felt so "normal" to have my kids take cover in this way. But I am glad I noted their response, because this was new for our boys, who typically greet (and sometimes seek out) complete strangers with enthusiasm and confidence (which has included calling out to people from a distance to say hello, losing themselves in interactions with other adults - often strangers - without so much as a glance our direction, going off on their own in public places without checking in with Geoff and I, throwing themselves onto people they may have met once, etc.). Occasionally, Lute will play shy with someone (although often that seems to be a bit of a control thing around people we want him to greet), and just this week Kitch asked me twice about whether someone was a stranger (a cashier) and about receiving a greeting from a stranger (a fellow shopper)...but usually they will dive into interactions with just about anyone (and to be fair to the boys, other unknown adults are really inappropriate about approaching our kids and asking personal questions of them - names, ages, etc., taking their hands, and so on - what's a kid to do, when the adults are modeling these poor boundaries?)...

Anyway, I thought to write a quick post, and add this observation to our patchy written record of events in the first months of family life (which, by the way, is approaching 5.5 months of being home together, and has been nearly 7.5 months since meeting...wow - more than half a year of knowing each other).

Moments like this are humbling, actually, because the boys' action today followed a not-so-pretty leaving-the-house scene (a stress/frustration trigger for me at times, let me tell you). A child's ability to attach to people who spend half their evenings lamenting less-than-perfect parenting responses and reading up on how to do better next time, and to one parent in particular who is admittedly a bit reserved in her own attachments and affections, is pretty amazing. But that is a post for another day...maybe.

Glimpses...

Hmm, I'm trying not to get my hopes up TOO much, but...it seems there has been an up-swing for all of us the past few days.

Both Geoff and I felt encouraged after our social worker's visit last week - not sure if it is her confidence in us, her confidence that some of the rough stuff in recent weeks is a normal (and even necessary) part of the boys' adjustment process, or maybe just the chance to vent/sort through things, but we'll take it! For more than a week now I have been thinking the sneaky stuff has been improving, and the anger stuff is still alive and well, but with some sort of emotional regulation being achieved sooner and with a bit less mayhem. Still room for improvement in a few areas, for sure, but there's been a bit more room to breathe.

In addition, we've heard a few comments over the past few days, like:

"I think tomorrow [Saturday, Geoff's day off] is going to be really fun, because I like Daddy so much!"

"Those books [recorded by the foster family] don't make me sad anymore; when I listen to them, I feel happy that I live here."

The energy levels and physical self-control over the past few days seem to have been a bit more regulated, too, and Geoff and I noticed that a shopping errand and quick lunch out felt more like our vision of "typical" family today - less cueing, less wild/impulsive/restless behaviour, and so on. Kitch has been playing "baby" a lot again, calling me "Mama", wanting some extra snuggles and rides in the Beco carrier, and Luton has been taking pride in positive feedback for making wise choices. Time will tell, but these little glimpses of what *might* be in our future are comforting.

This morning in church, I was touched (hasn't happened often - partly because I'm slow to warm up, and partly because there's been so much not-too-warm-and-fuzzy around here lately) glancing over at the boys during the opening hymn, as they sat with their hymnals open, attempting to sing along.

Anyway, knowing where my last post left off, I wanted to update. Realistically, I am still anticipating some ongoing struggles, but a bit of light now and then really helps re-build motivation, hope, and a sense of being a family.

Are We Having Fun Yet?

Cue maniacal laughter. The wild, desperate kind.

This likely isn't the week for me to write this post with appropriate objectivity. But this is the week during which I feel like doing it, so take it for what it is. I will write while I polish off the Halloween chocolate, and balance out the intellectual effort with some "Say Yes to the Dress" and "What Not to Wear" as a backdrop.

Today, unless I hear anything too suspicious, I will not be heading upstairs during rest/nap time to make sure everyone is in his assigned location/conducting themselves in a generally responsible manner, and will hope for the best (despite somewhat shaky confidence).

Let's head back in time a couple of months. August. If my increasingly unreliable memory serves me correctly (read: recently cancelled a day of music class and a school outing due to the "theft" of my engagement ring, which I had apparently misplaced all by myself...although in my defense there was excellent reason to suspect/assume it's theft), during late summer I was starting to feel more comfortable with this whole having kids in my house business. As I have stated previously, we really didn't experience any "significant" issues with the kids over the first few months. Much of what we were facing appeared to be pretty typical 3-4 year-old stuff around attentiveness, emotions management, following rules, etc., and some not-uncommon infant sleep and temper issues (some of which I now see as very possibly being attachment/transition-related, given some recent progress/change). Likely the biggest struggle during that time was my own adjustment, which was in many ways less overtly difficult than I feared, but which involved a definite sense of discomfort in my new role, and with having toddlers around 24 hours a day (particularly toddlers who very much dove in and made themselves more than comfortable in "my" environment). So, likely by sometime in August I was starting to relax into daily life and the permanency of our new little family, and began September with a general sense of optimism.

Cue more maniacal laughter. The foreshadowing.

I must qualify the following discussion by stating clearly that anything we are experiencing at the moment is still very, very mild in the world of adoption and attachment. But, I am definitely framing some of the current issues at our house in the context of attachment and adjustment (for all of us), when previously it was not clear what was due to transition and attachment, and what was just typical kid stuff. And, having at least two children heating up at once likely isn't helping my energy level and frame of mind.

Just to keep us on our toes, one is experimenting with the more deceptive/sneaky end of the spectrum, and the other has ramped up his anger and oppositionality and limit-testing beyond what I would consider "typical" for his age and stage. I *think* the sneaky stuff may be tapering off a bit, but it has involved pilfering (from school, home, and a store), rummaging through drawers and cabinets all over the house, sneaking around upstairs during rest time, and misusing materials/property (tape & glue on hardwood, etc.). For this child, increased supervision has been necessary at times, but (due to a high need for attention of any kind) almost enjoyable for him (even when I try to keep it boring). The defiance in our other little guy (often over very trivial things, or his own intentional actions) typically leads to rages in response to even the kindest re-direction, which now require swaddling and holding, due to the onset of destructiveness and physical lashing out. He is also demonstrating very little inclination and self-control in regard to rule-following when outside of our direct supervision (well, within it, too), and is often out of bed after bedtime, making noise in the morning, etc. He gashed his finger last week on the stroller MINUTES after being re-directed away from playing with its wheel, and this sort of attraction to non-toys is constant (occasionally resulting in personal injury, and often in some sort of property damage). Trying to supervise and engage with all three effectively when managing some of the current issues is quite a creative challenge. Some days I find myself literally fighting sleep by lunch-time (which is thankfully followed by rest time for all of us).

It has been a relief to see the covert issues of our one little guy dissipating a bit the past week or so. I am trying to give him lots of positive attention, some special 1:1 time in bits and pieces, and need to keep working on being a bit more patient with some of the personality quirks and behaviours that really get to me. Overall, he's actually the "easiest" to parent on a day-to-day basis - very quick and responsible in following through with chores, loves to help out, gets excited about any and every activity. However, I have the most trouble just enjoying him - he's so bold (which can look bossy and demanding) and impulsive (which makes me self-conscious in public in particular) - qualities that don't appeal to me. Our other little man has the same enthusiasm for life, and still LOVES to be babied - he likely would be very happy if I could realistically wear him and cradle him all day. He is cute as a button, and can comply with beautiful cheerfulness when so inclined. His distractibility and slowness to complete tasks is astounding and frustrating, and I think is sometimes a bit of a game for him (but it's hard to tell). The oppositionality just comes out of the blue most of the time (although is often predictably associated with any expectation for follow-through with basic responsibilities - this week, he finally started verbalizing that he doesn't "want" to make his bed, and was trying to get his brother to do it for him yesterday - this issue is currently escalating - hopefully peaking???). I recently drove him home from a family gathering while leaving Geoff with the other two, after he continued to become more and more aggressive and dysregulated, after a minor incident.

Needless to say, while I spent the summer reading standard parenting books, I am back to the attachment literature to come up with strategies and responses which might be helpful (and if anything, which will give me a consistently calm and measured way of interacting). I have particularly appreciated revisiting Deborah Gray's "Attaching in Adoption" and Karen Purvis' "The Connected Child" (I have also ordered her "Trust-Based Parenting" DVDs). I hope to dive into more Daniel Hughes, and just finished "Love and Logic for Early Childhood", which I found very practical (although the concept that I will "keep" any toys left for me to pick up doesn't really work well when the kids start handing me things and telling me to take them so that they don't have to tidy up completely, or happily letting me take some of their money as "payment" for clearing their breakfast dishes. I'm sure someday I might find these memories amusing, but right now this stuff leaves me perplexed and uncertain what to do next). Another blog highly recommended Denise Best's "Therapeutic Parenting Manual", and I am curious to have a look at that. I also continue to be thankful for our very supportive, experienced, and helpful adoption worker, with whom we continue to meet about every three weeks (and can contact anytime in between).

Overall I keep thinking, intellectually, that we can do this. And that things are really not that bad. But when I am standing in the middle of three children, completely tongue-tied (seriously, I sometimes stand there frozen, frantically trying to come up with SOMETHING to say or do so we can move on. Today I had them all take a long "break" sitting and doing nothing, while I reviewed some tips and pointers in the Love & Logic book), I feel like some kind of pathetic joke. And when I've been all therapeutic and unfazed for incident after incident, and then lose it over a child asking an annoying question, I feel like the kids would be better fending for themselves while I spend the rest of the day in self-imposed time out (don't worry, I have always opted to keep supervising and meeting basic needs - if boxed mac & cheese can be considered a way of meeting basic needs - even when in a zombie-like state). Or, when one child has not fulfilled the basics of bed-making and PJ put-away (required before coming down for breakfast), and could possibly benefit from some moral support/connecting time, but two other hungry little ones are waiting to be fed (which in fairness, in my opinion, becomes the priority)...what is one to do? All of this has also challenged the progress Geoff and I have made toward our attachments to the boys in particular. I am hoping we will come up with some clear strategies, learn more about neutralizing our responses (and thereby neutralizing our internal emotional reactions), and benefit from this more challenging time by becoming more skilled and confident.

Next week marks five months with everyone home, which will be seven months since first meeting each other. I often remind myself how thankful I am that we studied and learned so much in the years leading up to this point - I can't say we have been surprised by anything we have experienced yet, so I think it's primarily a matter of coming up with a plan and giving it a fair chance, while also staying connected with each other and the non-kid parts of our lives. Some of the blog-reading and church sermons and discussions lately have focused on thankfulness in all circumstances (what with Thanksgiving having been this month) and peace in the knowledge that we are asked only to do our best without worry for the future.

With that, I must go - I may soon hear little Caye calling for me from her crib, which will signal the end of rest time for everyone. It's Friday, and there is always some relief in knowing the morning and days will be a team effort with Geoff home for a couple of days.

The Dance

"Ways have to be found to let the child know that certain behaviors are unacceptable, without making the child herself feel not accepted. She has to be able to bring her unrest, her least likable side, to the parent without fear that it would threaten the relationship. When that is made possible, absolute security is established. We can reliably expect emotional growth ...to follow.

Parents need to keep asking themselves which goal they think is more important: a desired short-term outcome, or long-term development. It's nice when that question does not have to be faced, but often the two are incompatible and even antagonistic. Choosing one means, for that moment at least, giving up on the other. If the child is to be freed to go through the necessary developmental stages, the attachment relationship with the parent has to be made paramount. Our immediate objective of getting the child to obey or to perform this or that task may need to be sacrificed. On the other hand, tactics needed to achieve short-term behavior goals may have to involve the weakening of the attachment. Especially in the beginning, the parent will be confronting those options regularly."

From "Scattered Minds" by Gabor Mate

While reading this, I forgot this is a book on ADHD (not something our kids have been identified with, but I think there might be some helpful strategies to draw on, so I picked it up for a browse), and felt like I was reading an adoption and attachment book.

So much of parenting discussion, dilemmas, and experiments at our place these days hinge on these issues. We see behaviour that needs to change (we think it needs to happen now, but reading excerpts like the one above cause me to consider that maybe we need to think in terms of 'eventually'), and often want to try certain contingencies which are sometimes in competition with what is recommended during the process of building attachment in adoption.

All this raises questions around where we are at as a family in terms of attachment, and how this impacts which approaches would be most effective in addressing other issues (most of them typical pre-schooler stuff, but perhaps with somewhat greater intensity and frequency than might generally be expected). Even without the adoption factor in our situation, there is much in the attachment parenting literature that resonates with me. However, I'm not sure I would naturally gravitate toward being attachment parenting purist (in fact, I really have not been since the beginning, somewhat to my surprise).

Without wanting to minimize the trauma and loss involved with moving to a new family, and being raised outside of the biological family unit (and the resulting attachment risks), our kids came to us having had an as-close-to-typical parenting and family experience as one would ever find in adoption, and as such, we are not faced with most of the trauma and attachment issues present in many adoption situations. However...we realize that while our kids' attachment needs may be more subtle than some, our family is still new, and even some (or many?) of the behaviours we see could very well be attachment-related.

I surely don't have answers at this point. My desire to extinguish problematic behaviours does compete with things I should likely be doing to promote further attachment. As well, some attachment strategies are difficult to implement when there are other little ones around. For instance, having kids tantrum and rage in my presence, with siblings around (to keep them close, while also supervising siblings) - particularly when the tantrum involves name-calling, hitting, or other inappropriate behaviour being modeled for siblings - or giving extra nurturing to a little person having a rough spot, while the others clambor for attention (or occupy themselves, then later, possibly demonstrate the effects of too little direct time with me) don't seem feasible or desirable. Hence, we have been using time-out-style removal for such behaviour, and yet I realize it doesn't seem to reduce the behaviours - either the initial acts leading to the time-outs, or the resulting dysregulation (screaming, name-calling, thrashing, etc.).

I have recently started considering contingencies like suggesting that in order to participate in certain desirable activities (e.g., holiday crafts, certain outings/community activities), one must conduct oneself in a respectful manner (e.g., not screaming at me, calling me names, or hitting me when upset) - and this has so far shown the most promise to stop the melt-down in its tracks (I have had to follow through with the contingency a few times, too). I think one reason I hesitated to go this route was in wanting to give us as many opportunities as possible to connect and build attachment through family time, special and memorable activities, etc., without those activities necessarily being contingent on behaviour, so that the kids feel accepted and see that they belong no matter what. I suppose we could consider a "baseline" of opportunities for participation which are not contingent on behaviour (generally speaking), with some "extra-special" opportunities that can become contingencies. I don't know. I have also been reluctant to head into structured behavioural approaches using charts, rewards, etc., but wonder if there might be a time and place for some of that as well.

Really, I feel wishy-washy. I can always see good points in multiple perspectives, which prevents me from buying whole-heartedly into one particular philosophy and approach (and I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing). I suspect a thoughtful, individualized, and consistent "eclectic" approach could be wonderful, but how to sort out the preferred elements based on our kids' needs and what seems right to us as parents, and weave it all together?

With that, I really must pack a few things for our last camping weekend at the trailer, and start reminding myself to greet the kiddos with hugs and kisses when they get up from their naps. And the journey will continue from there, in all its messy glory.

The Calendar Doesn't Lie...

I've been realizing this week that we wrapped up our pre-placement 8 weeks ago. In other words, the kids have been home for 8 weeks. For nearly two weeks prior to placement, we were with them full-time at a cottage in their area, so we have been together for nearly 10 weeks without intermission. Geoff has been back to work for 7 weeks, which marks the beginning of our "new normal".

My stomach dropped a little (and is still recovering) after confirming those numbers. One thing I can't argue with is how incredibly quickly time passes. Each day (even a rough one) is over before I know it. Each week closes in the blink of an eye. Any fears of time dragging on have not been validated. At the same time, I can't really say this feels comfortably like "my" life yet.

When I note rough days, I mostly mean rough for me! The kids certainly have their moments, and some days have more moments than others. Still, for the large part, I see those moments as being generally typical for their ages. Generally. Some things certainly have looked adjustment-related (things as simple as getting used to a new routine, rule, or fact of life - like having bedrooms on the second floor, or things a bit more complex - like figuring out who calls the shots and how to communicate respectfully and effectively), but for the most part, fairly mild in comparison to what could be the case. Sometimes the "big kid" stuff our boys picked up in their first home is amusing (e.g., various slang terms), and sometimes not so much (e.g., various slang terms...plus "noogies", "wedgies", and condescending expressions like "I tollld you...", and forms of "actually..." such as, "actually, I wanted...", or "actually, you forgot..."). My rough days don't necessarily coincide with increased kid-related stresses. It seems a bit random. Some days I drift through calmly with nary a raised eyebrow, and others consist of constant (too often losing) battles for any semblance of maturity and poise. Yesterday, I calmly addressed a broken baby gate/damaged wall issue resulting from careless behaviour and disregard of house rules, and coped poorly with minor nuisances. Random.

In some areas, I do notice increased mutual comfort and positive shifts in relationship. I was realizing yesterday that I would be jealous if I had to send baby girl off to daycare, and have others spending all that quality time with her instead of me. I do think it's been easier to integrate baby girl into my identity and feel like she's just part of the picture. The eldest still feels like a bit of a stranger at times, and as I may have written previously, is very watchful of my every move, which can feel stifling and unnerving. Baby girl reminds us daily that she is moving from baby to toddler at astonishing speed. New words, mannerisms, skills, and behaviours emerge constantly. Along with increased intensity in her tantrums, she is also being more overtly affectionate, so at least there's a balance! I marvel at how one can instruct a barely 16 month-old to go find her baby & stroller in the toy room, and have her toddle off, only to return moments later with the aforementioned items. Lute (at just-turned-4) can remember long series' of instructions, and carry them out (although continues to inconsistently count to 3...hmm...). Kitch can be a bit of a free spirit, easily distracted, and is so cute when ignoring direction sometimes that it can be hard to determine if he really didn't hear me, or if he simply prefers to continue playing away...at other times, he makes it quite clear how he feels about complying (for better or for worse).

One interesting aspect of public adoption is the ongoing contact and relationship with our social worker. Overall, since we have a good relationship with her and get lots of validation and extremely positive feedback, we appreciate her input, and find it useful to have someone available for questions and information. At other times, it would be nice to think we are just a "regular" family, all on our own! It feels a bit cumbersome to remember to inform her about things like getting a new vehicle, so that all the information about make/model/year/etc. can be added to the case notes and file. We also have to call in for more "serious" injuries - anything that might require stitches, say, or that "looks" nasty.

Ok, so at two months, there is a fair bit that I feel good about. The kids really do seem to be transitioning well. I am SO thankful for how the dogs have transitioned as well (this was one of my big worries)! So far, we have managed to do many of the things we would have done without children, which makes us feel like we can basically go on with the familiar things of life (and we did get out to dinner alone this week, thanks to Geoff's sister, niece, & nephew minding the kids, and our social worker's motivational input - the kids, by the way, did great having us go out for a few hours). While I will welcome the day when I can honestly be enthusiastic about having handed my life over to three kids, I could be in FAR worse shape - I enjoy many moments, continue to see them as great kids, and look forward to seeing who they turn into as they grow up.

Over the past couple of months, we have attended a family wedding, gone to a theme park, enjoyed dinner with friends, attended downtown festivals, gone to church, enjoyed family gatherings, attended music class, met up with friends & family for splash pad adventures, gone shopping (Wal-Mart, alone, with three kids, was an air-conditioned blessing in the heat we've been having in these parts), (finally) done a craft, and gone camping (more than once, at our trailer...including one hot overnight with no power after a thunderstorm).

That said, I am at the point where regular bouts of restlessness are hitting. I realize how quickly the coming months will pass as well, and although we have a fairly consistent routine, there are some components we haven't introduced yet. We do night-time Bible stories, but I really want to to do family devotions at dinner (and dive into some of the "Kids of Integrity" materials - free, online). I want to help the kids engage in more creative and imaginative play, building, and crafting...and find time for more reading (other than just at bedtime). We have been getting out about twice during the week (in addition to weekend events), but I still haven't checked out any library programs, cultural activities (other than the pow-pow we attended), or other summer-time events in the area. I also need to start thinking about any fall programs I might attend with the younger two, while Lute heads off to JK for a couple of mornings a week (most likely - long story, and worth a post all to itself). Around the house, I am craving some crafting time of my own, along with a concerted effort on the weedy, weedy gardens and the "catch-all" front porch office/crafting area (necessary if I am actually going to start crafting and mending again). I have been reading (for pleasure and parenting), and keeping up with photo uploads, but have numerous computer projects (e.g., adoption announcements, life book text writing before doing the actual books, photo organization & ordering) and other things of fairly high importance on my "to-do" list. I would also dearly love to have professional photos taken of our little (some people say "large" - really?) family during our first summer together.

Anyway, forgot to grab the baby monitor from my bedroom earlier, so should likely see if baby girl is up yet. The boys must still be sleeping (oh yes - hooray - forgot to mention that they have all been napping daily at the same time)! I do have a few pictures for you, but they are not wanting to upload at the moment, so stay tuned (still not sure whether or when I will post facial photos, for one or two reasons, but have some back shots I am happy to share).

Philosophically Wishy-Washy

As can be expected in life, the application of various theories and approaches in real-life situations is not quite as simple as one might hope.

In regard to parenting in general, I have tended toward notions of simplicity, natural nutrition, media-free living, attachment, learning-oriented activity, etc., etc. In regard to adoption parenting, I have typically bought into the attachment literature and associated disciplinary recommendations. Some ideas are being neatly implemented, while others (sometimes surprisingly) have ended up tweaked, postponed, and turned right over.

1. I don't like to be bothered in the morning (that's no surprise). Actually, not really at all. But especially in the morning. Or the night. So as much as the image of cute little folk creeping into my room and snuggling in my bed in the morning seems homey and delightful, I have been much happier and more willing to face the day (and churn out some semblance of a warm morning greeting) having the boys head downstairs on their own when they wake up, with a laid-out snack, and not coming for me until I call for them, typically after baby girl is up and dressed. This didn't happen right away, but we've been trying it for nearly a week, I think. I am often awake to hear them, but crave the privacy and quiet of my bedroom as I gradually rouse myself. We are still working out the night-time issues with baby girl, who has been demanding bottles at least once through each night lately, and keeping us guessing with her sleep patterns (she was previously a through-the-night sleeper, so we're hoping this is mainly a transition issue that will resolve in time). She could not scream any harder for a bottle if she tried, and there isn't much of a grace period for us to get downstairs to the bottle warmer and back. Thankfully she usually settles right back to sleep after her bottle, although I have had a few 1.5-2.5 hour sessions with her. I find night wakings most difficult soon after I go to bed, and within an hour or two of getting up for the day.

2. I don't like to be bothered in the morning (see above). So Geoff puts the TV on when he leaves for work, along with the boys' snacks. Yes, the TV. Ugh.

3. I really like some quiet time/nap time in the afternoons. This initially meant a movie with the boys while baby girl slept. Yes, more TV (fully sanctioned by our social worker as quality bonding time while we snuggled together on the couch - I'll take it)! Now, they have actually been going up willingly for individual rest time (which has always resulted in at least a 2-hour nap). So...I feel guilty about not spending that nice quiet time with them anymore (because it was nice, even though there was movie guilt), but am really glad to have some down time to read, tidy, or SLEEP a little myself.

4. I am super-easily frustrated by screaming and raging in a child of any age, even if she is the most adorable 15 month-old around, and definitely if he is a 3 or 4 year-old little guy. This results in deep breathing, and some mutual time outs to re-group.

5. Speaking of time-outs. Regardless of any advice to the contrary, I have a hard time letting a child scream at me or anyone else while remaining in the same room. So yes, when the boys lash out verbally and disturb others' peace we do have them sit in a different area on the same level of the house until they can be respectful again. Or if they have an off-moment and refuse to don their pants after toileting (particularly if assistance has been requested, even when not needed, provided, and rejected), and as a result must remain in the bathroom until fully clothed once again (so far this has only occurred once or twice per boy). Or when they make a scene at dinner (neither has food/eating issues, and they are used to having to eat whatever is served, but are occasionally feeling out our stance in regard to meal-time behaviour), and are therefore excused from the table. In many adoption situations, I would NOT disregard the advice of attachment experts regarding time-out/time-in. However, our boys were raised from birth in a loving and healthy family, and were well-attached there. They are familiar with time outs, and we try to use them only when their behaviour is socially inappropriate (not broken rules, etc.). I do sometimes sit with them, but often they are being asked to take a few minutes for yelling/screaming continuously at me, and so I leave until they compose themselves, which they tend to do quite quickly. If I remain present as an audience, the yelling seems to go on a bit longer. Both boys will yell, cry, and scream on cue, and can turn it off just as quickly. It seems that they may be used to being able to scream a bit, then settle and go back to doing what they were doing (e.g., eating supper, playing outside/heading out for a walk), which is not happening here. Anyway, I do check back in and have a calm chat at the end of the time-out, and I have been implementing mandatory apologies. I am a bit torn on this. I was initially thinking that an apology should only be given when completely sincere, but am realizing that sincerity is a complicated thing in pre-schoolers. Now, I am leaning more toward having them go through the motions of apology and forgiveness, so the words and actions become comfortable and familiar, and can be used easily as sincerity develops. Part of the post time-out process includes some repair/re-connection through hugs and affirmations.

6. I don't want to label or read into things, but also don't want to minimize attachment needs. Both boys are generally quite comfortable with people. Sometimes too comfortable, in my opinion. But then, I am pretty reserved and introverted, and come from a family with a few other introverts and generally very carefully-boundaried people. I am not used to bold children, and have always been more impressed with children who stand back a bit, wait for invitation, and demonstrate some awareness of others in social environments. Our boys...ha ha ha. They will dive into play with anyone, say hello to pretty much anyone (except, of course, when asked - working on that with the eldest, who has been choosing when to be mannerly, and when to ignore others), accept anything from anyone, etc. They don't ask our permission for snacks and treats offered by others, or necessarily even to go visiting the neighbours at the campground. My attachment alarm bells were ringing loud and clear (and are still tinkling away just to be vigilant), but I also realize that the boys were raised in a busy home full of teens and young adults, who had lots of friends and relatives coming by. They also spent plenty of time at a small campground, owned by their foster grandmother, which promoted constant mingling and casual interaction with anyone and everyone around. We witnessed fairly open access to food and drink at their first home as well. The informal, outdoor lifestyle they are used to seems to be clashing at times with my more traditional ideas about social interaction, particularly when addressing adults, and spending time in others' space.

7. I find it challenging being the introverted mother of an extroverted, attention-seeking child.
The oldest thinks nothing of asking for whatever he wants (food and drink, entering or moving between rooms and levels of others' homes), and invites himself to be first for everything. He jumps on people in play (even when he has just met them), throws balls at people (even when they have not been asked if they want to play, and aren't looking his direction), generally pays no attention to personal space, and has no concept of waiting for invitation instead of making requests. At music class this week, he copied the teacher's demonstration of a bug crawling up from her toes to her head...by having his bug roughly crawl up her...while she was teaching class...laughing and chatting the whole time. Both boys can be found running and jumping and spinning during music class, when others are seated or doing a gentle activity. Again, the class is informal, and the boys are, I think, generally very social by nature...and have never been exposed to structured group settings with written or unwritten rules of conduct. They will take some cueing from me in these situations, but definitely tend to dive right into things in whatever way suits them. While I can see some explanations for these tendencies based on their life experience, I also want to be alert to any concerning attachment flags, or even basic social skills issues so that we can help them make the most of social situations and build appropriate relationships. I must give them credit, after all this commentary, for having very nice manners in some respects - they have been taught to use please and thank-you, and can show some lovely sensitivity toward others (our younger little guy in particular).

At home, there are some issues of entitlement (the oldest will state what we are going to do next, announce that he is hungry and expect a snack on cue), and a constant thirst for attention and recognition. If I pick up or hold one of the others, the oldest barges in for his exact share (which really means bumping the others out of line and stealing the limelight). He would far rather sit and watch me assemble meals (meal prep is stressful for me at the best of times - I don't cook) while chatting incessantly (loving to ask questions about and comment on what I'm doing - he unfortunately has picked up some less-than-attractive catch-phrases, such as "actually, you forgot...", which can be really annoying even when the context indicates he doesn't intend to be condescending), than find a toy with which to amuse himself, or a sibling to play with. I can be scrubbing food off the floor, or changing a diaper, and he is in complete seriousness asking me to play hide and seek or join him in some other activity...right then and there. At times, the more attention he has had from me, the more he demands. One afternoon, I spent two hours with him while the others slept, did some learning worksheets (which he loves...thankfully, since there is a LOT to catch up on in terms of basic counting, shape, and colour recognition - he had plenty of outdoor and gross motor development in his first home, but not so much in the academic department)...and then witnessed a complete breakdown when Geoff arrived home and the other two woke up. He chooses difficult activities (indoors and at the playground) which require adult assistance, and otherwise restlessly, aimlessly flits from thing to thing when needing to occupy himself for any amount of time. To his credit, we have seen a bit of improvement with the expectation that he keep busy with his "job" of doing kid stuff, while grown-ups do their "jobs" at home - he has started to self-correct at times when making certain requests, and points out when he is "being patient" by amusing himself while waiting for me.

8. Convenience does occasionally trump...everything else. Food-wise, activity-wise...yep...sometimes whatever is simpler wins. Hopefully I will soon be more willing to rise to the occasion, and challenge myself in this area (I would really like to be doing some crafts, more reading and drawing, more creative play), but for now I am most concerned with harmony and my own sanity. We are devouring tons of fresh fruit and veggies, at least, and we have spent a bit of time gardening.

9. I have no idea what to do about toys. We tried to stock up on a few quality items for the kids - things with potential for imagination, problem-solving, etc. Some of these get occasional use, although lots of toddler games still require parental involvement (good, but not useful when needing a diversion), and building toys aren't very practical when baby is awake and in the mix (hopefully the boys will fairly soon be independent and reliable enough to use some of these toys on their own, upstairs, if they so desire). The boys arrived with a bin of cars and trucks, which they enjoy to some extent. Baby prefers things like the kitchen table, sinks, toilet, cooking utensils, etc. Even though I don't feel swamped with toys, it still seems like too much. Some promising items never see the light of day, other items have no redeeming value (in my opinion), and some are constant fodder for fights over use. We need to gradually do some weeding out...and the more extreme side of me thinks I should just order the Waldorf book of activities and toys I found on Amazon, and trash everything else. Books, too. I love books dearly, and hate to identify any as meaningless...but when really intelligent, creative fare stays on the shelf, while various mass market, "flavour of the week" stories with no literary/language or character development value are chosen consistently, I am very tempted to do a purge. I will likely box up anything that came with the boys, which we don't intend to keep out, so that they can later choose what to do with it.

10. I may cave and send my 4 year-old to school part-time. Oh my. All my homeschooling, keep kids at home as long as possible ideals...where have they gone? I never thought I would be contemplating sending a youngster off to JK, especially within three months of joining our family. But a few factors are giving me pause to re-consider my earlier position. Lute does seem to need a bit of work on peer social skills and early academics, which makes me think we might want to do that at home and through mom-supervised community activities. On the other hand, a small dose of school might help things along. I wouldn't mind having teachers' opinions on his language and academic development, either, given that we have been thrust into pre-schooler parenting. It might also be helpful to get to know some other families, observe other kids, and get feedback on his social development as well (in some areas, he has advanced skills in interacting with adults, but I'm not sure how many other young kids he's been around, other than his brother). As well, when Lute was under the weather for a few days recently, it was quite fascinating to observe Kitch come out of his shell in a way we had not yet seen (with us, or when spending time at his previous home). We knew Kitch leaned toward the creative, cute, quirky side of things, but were able to see even more of those qualities when Lute was in the background for a couple of days. Hmm. I had been concerned about separating the boys within such a short time after transitioning here, figuring they have spent every day of their lives together so far...but maybe it wouldn't be an altogether bad idea...Kitch and Lily also seem to connect a bit, and I wouldn't mind seeing them spend a bit of time together as well (Lily was introduced to her brothers only last December, at 9 months old, and had some visits with them before becoming part of their lives full-time with us). I spoke with the principal of the private Christian school I attended, and they have an extremely flexible JK program, with a minimum commitment of one day or two half-days per week (lovely, since most of our public schools are moving toward all-day, every day JK - although technically we should be able to negotiate reduced attendance if we insist). So, we will keep thinking about it. There isn't really a rush to register while the offices are closed, which gives us time to continue observing and discussing.

____________________________________

There are a few of my observations and reflections from our first weeks together. Time does go pretty quickly. I don't know that I feel much differently about things than I did initially - kind of in a one day at a time mentality - but there's really not much I can complain about (other than my lack of a morning nanny).

All three are enthusiastic kids who love to laugh and smile, and spend time with us. They are interested in just about everything, and generally seem to be settling well into new routines. Oh, and I have continued to be really pleased with the mutual child-animal adjustments. Lovely to see a little person perched beside a dog, or summoning a cat, and talking happily about how the cats like them now, or how much they like the animals. The dogs have taken to running with the kids, and Gladwyn, our transforming timid hound, has been running joyfully after balls thrown by the boys. The boys are excited about attending a family wedding this weekend, wearing their dressy outfits, and staying in a hotel. Geoff is also excited to show the kids off a bit more. I will reserve my excitement for after the fact, depending on how things go (I am ushering, so will be pre-occupied for the ceremony). We have also been camping at our trailer, which has generally been going well (took the dogs with us last weekend, which worked out fine). Would be even better if Geoff was around with us all during the day, so we'll just have to keep working toward a completely self-sustaining lifestyle (totally realistic, right)?

And So It Begins

Well, the children have been home for a full week now, and we have signed placement paperwork, so are officially on "adoption probation" (finalization cannot occur provincially until at least six months post-placement...which is often more like one year). Everyone has been tucked in for another night, and I am settling in to my too-short couple of hours of down time.

Altogether, things have been going very well, and there really isn't much to complain about. Displays of homesickness from the eldest have actually decreased substantially compared with time spent at hotels and the cottage in their home area. Baby girl has had 4 reasonable nights of sleep here (two of them excellent - sleeping right through the night for 12 hours). The boys have slept soundly, as has been their pattern.

Little brother has been experimenting repetitively with "Mom/Mommy" and "Dad/Daddy". The eldest will use "Silly/Funny Mommy" & "Silly/Funny Daddy" when we're joking around, but is otherwise mostly sticking to our first names for now. Baby girl clearly prefers me. She is happy with Geoff when I'm not in sight, but fusses & reaches for me if I come into view. She very predictably prefers to be held and carried approaching sleep/meal-times in late morning and late afternoon. She turned her face toward my shoulder and tucked her arms in when our social worker reached out for her to see what she would do. She will smile and wave to others during visits, but sticks pretty close to me, and isn't quite as chatty "publicly" as she is when it's just our little family around. I would guess her "attachment" to me at this point may still be a bit insecure, but overall we're happy with what we're seeing. Little brother likes to snuggle a bit and be held (cue Baby girl becoming jealous), and enjoys playing "baby", having me put him in the crib for a rest (during which he closes his eyes and curls up tight). He has asked for a bottle, so we will likely try that for some role-play. The eldest is very physical in his play (rough, too - I've had a couple of wrenched neck incidents and a few bruises), so not as sentimental and overtly cuddly, but requests lots of play-based touch and makes great eye contact when doing so.

We have had some short-ish visits with grandparents, my sister & her girls, and inadvertently with a friend we ran into in the community. The eldest has picked one adult during each visit to which he clings (literally and figuratively), leaning on them/hugging them, asking for them to help him with things (even feeding), and generally being quite demonstrative and dramatic. So, we will definitely have to be very careful about physical boundaries with non-parents and continue lying low for a bit, as well as doing some teaching regarding social boundaries. This is an interesting and tricky situation to analyze. Certainly he is in the early stages of developing his attachment with Geoff and I, and has much further to go. He also appears to be a very extroverted boy - the type of child who might tend to be very excited about new people, and who likes to be the centre of attention (which fits with all the descriptions we have of him). As well, he has spent his entire life in a large, loving family, with multiple teens/young adults around, who all help with caregiving, and with lots of friends and extended family visiting regularly - so he is quite used to meeting people, and having special attention from visitors.

At home, all three are playful and seek out lots of interaction. The boys love new activities and a varied schedule. Baby girl is generally happy to putter around (preferably while carrying around things like glass measuring cups, remote controls, and other non-baby-friendly items). Both Geoff and I are quite tired of "Why???" questions already, and repeated requests/demands for information about meal-times, daily agendas, activities, etc. Much is likely typical older toddler/pre-school stuff, some appears to be temperament & personality, and of course, some could be attributed to learning new routines and rules, establishing who is in charge, etc. It is quite interesting being planted directly into developmental stages where constant explaining, cueing, re-directing, mediating, tantrum-managing, supervising, etc., are required. Baby girl climbs EVERYTHING, so needs to be in sight (and almost at arms length) at all times. The boys are not quite playing for any length of time with any one toy or activity, or doing so independently, at this point. They seem to enjoy each other, but do have quite a few scuffles throughout the day - sharing, negotiating, and thinking of anyone else are definitely not their most finely honed skills and attributes yet.

I am not experiencing panic or a "flight" response as I half-expected, so am very thankful. At the same time, when others talk about how "exciting" this is, I can't say that's the primary feeling I'm experiencing. Sure, it is wonderful in the grand scheme...but I have most certainly not entirely come to terms with a forever farewell to the simple couple-only life we have just left in the dust! The hardest time of day is morning - can hardly fathom how I might ever reach the stage where I welcome those smiling (noisy) faces greeting me far before I am ready to interact with the world. The kids actually sleep to a reasonable time, but even then, I despise all sound and interaction until I am fully alert, showered, dressed, fed, and finished whatever quiet activty (usually internet-based) I have used to tune in to the day. So...when Geoff heads back to work next week, I am dreading the early mornings that will face me if I am to get up & shower while he's home to supervise any early risers, and then the immediate barrage of activity *shudder* when I emerge from my cocoon. So far, I've taken every possible opportunity to have Geoff get up with the kids while I catch a few more winks (until Baby girl started sleeping better, I had good excuses, like less than 6 hours' sleep), shower, and prepare myself to meet the day. Alas, unless someone wants to assist by funding a morning nanny, I don't see any way around this issue.

Anyway, as my precious evening time is passing quickly, I will finish for now. I have been thinking of how to refer to the children on this blog, and have decided to go with their new second names, given by Geoff and I.

Older brother will be Luton (Geoff's grandfather's middle name).
Little brother will be Kitch (for Joy's grandfather, Kitchener).
Baby girl will be an as-yet-undecided diminutive of Catherine (Joy's first name).

Hoping I will be somewhat reliable in documenting our adventures over the next little while. I don't journal (despite trying off and on at various points in my life), so this serves as at least some way of keeping a record for my own future reference), and I have always found it interesting and helpful to continue reading others' adoption experiences after placement. We shall see how it goes!

Family of Five!

After 3.5 years since officially starting the adoption process, and a myriad of unexpected roller-coaster twists and turns, I am delighted to “introduce” our soon-to-be family of five!


I’m actually typing on borrowed time, here, as we are in the midst of final packing and preparations, hoping to leave within the next couple of hours to spend nearly two weeks in a cottage with the children, in their area.

So, to back up a bit…

After stalling on updating our homestudy and dossier for Ethiopia, concerned about a very long wait for siblings, and reflecting on our adoption “philosophy” in regard to our personal situation, we thought it was time to explore public domestic adoption.

To summarize, we had a couple of other bumps and changes of course traveling this new path, and at the same time experienced an amazing sense of movement and opportunity (and ability to be active in the process) that had not been present while waiting and responding to system changes in international adoption.

I think in part because of all the dead ends and closed doors, I haven’t really posted about our public adoption decision, not knowing where it would lead. Currently, I am still working on believing that this is actually happening, and that in two weeks the hope and goal is to sign placement paperwork!

We have had to hold our breath a few times along the way to the three lovely children we have been getting to know over the past 6 weeks. We attended a provincial event in spring and fall 2010, where public child protection agencies from around the province can come and present children available for adoption. At the fall event, we couldn’t help noticing a sibling group of two toddler boys, and a baby girl – the only children presented by that particular agency. After reviewing the brief profile available at the event, and watching a little video, we opted to formally “express interest” and see whether the children’s agency contacted our agency to obtain a copy of our homestudy for review.

Sure enough, the homestudy was requested, we were given more information, and the mutual decision-making process continued over the next nearly 6 weeks, until just before Christmas. At this point, we completed a final interview, and were sadly informed that the only other family still being considered had been selected.

Sorely disappointed, we turned our focus toward working exclusively with our local agency over the next while, as our worker was optimistic we would be matched quickly. Within three weeks after being officially added to the matching pool, we had a call. We spent another three weeks having meetings and gathering information, and decided not to proceed with this match. We were a bit concerned that we would end up turning down all sorts of matches, knowing that the three we had been considered for in the fall had “spoiled” us in terms of what we were hoping for.

After declining the local match, and being told about some other sibling groups of 3-4 children (which was very exciting to me – I have always secretly, and maybe not-so-secretly, had fleeting thoughts of a larger sibling group, all at once), we were informed that the agency for the children we had wanted to adopt in the fall had been in touch with our local agency, to find out if we were still available. We were asked if we wanted to find out more – and, well, YES, we did!

After another round of information-sharing and gathering, we had another interview, and were again absolutely wanting to be selected. Five very long days after the interview, we got the call! The next day, hardly believing what was happening, we hit the road to spent the weekend in the children’s area, to meet them and confirm our decision.

And it’s been a whirlwind of activity since then (I will not even try to describe the magnitude of the preparations – but there has been no rest for the weary around here lately). We have spent three more weekends, during two of which the children stayed in a hotel with us the whole time. I was away at a conference another weekend, and so we have had just the two past weekends to scramble, getting the house prepared at least in a basic way, and trying to grasp our new reality!

In nearly two weeks, we plan to head home, and the children with come with their current caregivers. The children will stay with us over the weekend, while the caregivers stay in the area. And…depending on how things have gone to date, we may have placement at the end of the month. Wow.

No time to get into all the thoughts and questions bubbling away. I’ve felt too busy to savour this time of transition, and we are just diving right in. One benefit of the busyness lately, is that we are both looking forward to starting this new family life, and moving on.

Oh, just a tiny bit about the kids (this likely won’t be the place for sharing too many details):

Our boys are toddlers:

The eldest is funny, imaginative, intense in both joyful and not-so-joyful emotion. Protective of his siblings, and loyal to the only family he has ever known (yet able to dive in and enjoy his time with us so far).

The little guy loves to imitate his brother, and is generally a pretty laid back, “go with the flow” kind of kid. A bit quieter socially, but busy, busy, busy climbing and inquiring about the world around him. Had a nurturing side, and enjoys being carried and held on your lap.

Baby sister is 1. She has a ready smile and uses her few words freely. Very curious and active, but open to lots of holding as well. Oh…and she growls…which is just about the best baby feature ever, don’t you think?

And that’s the story.

And now I really need to finish packing...

Holding Out

I think I've previously written about how, when I have lots going on, and lots on my mind, I find it harder to come up with blog posts (despite the massive quantity of information being processed, which would likely make decent writing material).

So, yep, we've had lots going on. And it's time to write about it...almost. But right now, I'm just about finished lunch, and have a chaotic house to organize in the next two days...so I'll try to process some thoughts into written form in the next day or two for you...stay tuned :)

Sunset

August 21, 2010

The end of an interlude

Lingering on the moment

Before awaiting sunrise

Theory, Reality, and Acceptable Risk

Having some deep thoughts here.

When signing up to adopt a healthy infant through international adoption, I wonder to what extent adoptive parents REALLY consciously consider the unknowns and say "yes" to those possibilities. You know, anything from attachment issues to genetic/organic developmental delays which might not be immediately apparent, to unknown biological family mental health histories which could surface in our children. I suppose anyone who has a child, no matter how that happens, is saying "yes" to some of those risks, and to others, and hopefully in a conscious way. Generally, is it that we hope for the best, and figure we will cope with the worst if it happens? I suspect that it is really difficult to dig deeply into ourselves in regard to these issues and questions when everything is so hypothetical - "if" and "when" we eventually adopt we will "hopefully" and "most likely" have a healthy child, with no major surprises. At some level we (meaning we adoptive parents) must know that we could eventually be living with some pretty serious stuff, or at least some stuff we had not ever pictured ourselves living.

In international adoption, things are complicated in part due to the possibility of very limited family and developmental history, and the inability to meet and interact with a child before adoption decisions are finalized. And, so far we have said "yes" to all that. All those unknowns. And maybe it is somehow comforting to know that "what will be will be" - We signed up, but after that, the matching - with the little person or people who end up becoming our children - is out of our hands. We can only trust that an appropriate match is made based on the information available.

But what about when something shows up in a referral (or domestically, as more information is gathered about a proposed child, or one identified through a photolisting) that is a little (or a lot) outside of our initial scope, based on what we felt comfortable with, or how we pictured our child?

How do parents decide their "actual" limit when faced with a scenario involving a specific child - one whose face and identity are known, and who has been identified as a possible match? What then?

I really do believe that to adopt, parents must recognize and be OK with unknowns, and with various issues that reflect where our children have come from so far. But that's relatively easy to do in theory. Reality, however, may be different. In theory, to say that your child "could" end up with a lifelong developmental disability, or conduct issues, or a mental illness - that is one thing. When something is flagged with a specific child, that gets complicated. What if the child has lots of qualities and characteristics you like, but also presents with an issue you really never would have actively sought? Does that automatically mean the opportunity should be passed over? I doubt it...but I am sure that deciding where your limits actually lie could be a pretty tricky thing.

On one hand, stretching original boundaries could be totally appropriate, if you spend time working through thoughts and feelings, and any tweaking of your concept of child and parent, family and future, and realize that you are comfortable moving forward. In life, I fully believe that we sometimes need a bit of a push outside our self-imposed limits to experience things we would never have chosen on our own.

On the other hand, you are still making a theoretical decision. You have no way of knowing how you will actually feel, or what life will actually be like, if you move forward with this child. You don't want to end up resenting that you stretched your original boundaries. You don't want to be caught up in a moment, perhaps not wanting to let this match go because there are things that seem good or appealing about the child, or because you don't want to say "no" and let others down, or because you feel selfish saying that you really don't want to take on this unexpected issue (it's not you, dear child, it's me, the self-centred adult that I am who wants a "perfect" son or daughter according to my pre-conceived definition), or because you have some idea that this is your "chance" to become a family, and don't want to let it go.

When the illusion of the ideal child fades in the light of reality - even if that reality is still just on paper - and you realize this is a real child with real issues, how do you discern which issues are OK, and which are legitimate reasons to close the door and move on? You don't have to say "yes" when theory becomes reality. But you don't want to say "no" flippantly, either. What if that controlling, instigating behaviour isn't at the core of a child otherwise described as kind and polite and thoughtful, and can be overcome? But what if it is...what if it is so rooted that there will be more and bigger issues...? What if the developmental delays are life-long, and will impact education and career planning...but what if they're not? What if you say "no" to a wonderful child who would do really well in your family, or "yes" to a child whose troubles overshadow them and your family in painful and difficult ways? What is acceptable risk, and how do parents make that call?

Over to you...

Pick Me!

One of the things I hadn't really thought about, having gone the route of international adoption, is the whole idea in domestic situations (including at least some public adoption scenarios), of the "Profile" - which it looks like we will need to be doing if we step further into this new territory.

I think it's much less stressful to let others write homestudies and reference letters, trusting they've done their best to paint a truthful, compelling picture of us, than to come up with something ourselves. So much pressure! Thinking that the photos and words we choose can directly impact someone's decision to consider us or not! Makes me feel a bit queasy. Even more queasy than the thought of social workers meeting my two, barking hounds at the door. "Really, they're friendly...look at all these pictures of them resting quietly and hanging out with people"

One thing I liked about sticking with the same international adoption program and process was that the uncomfortable stuff - meetings, visits, etc. - was all over. All except the outdated medical forms, which need to be re-done no matter what, which are on the agenda for next week. Guess 'tis the price to be paid for expanding opportunities.

Now, I'm off to sift through hundreds of photos for just the right ones (you know, enough variety to tell a story, but not an overwhelming amount), and come up with the right blend of sincere (but not sappy), enthusiastic (yet not alarmingly so), creative (but balanced...not misleading..."look at all those daily fun adventures!..."), engaging (but not pushy...just trying to be ourselves...but not boring either), comprehensive (but also concise...not my forte), inspired written content to go along with the pictures. But first, an energizing snack, and maybe a nap.

Retreat, Renew, Resume

Ah, the campground. Our summer retreat. Last year was our first experience having a seasonal site to visit whenever we wanted, and it was lovely. I had just made the transition to part-time work, which made weekends away a nice break, rather than a source of increased stress being away all the time. I had a couple of days off at home, then a couple at the campground. Geoff, while working full-time, loves this as a way of making the most of down time, and really relaxing. Home, sadly, is a hard place to relax. Ok, I can do it (although often with some guilt about all the tasks and projects I can see vying for my attention), but Geoff is a busy type, not one to while away the time at home when there is work to be done. So, we hit the campground, even if just for a quick Friday night through Saturday visit (during May-June and September-October we feel pretty committed to being at church every week - July-August we give ourselves permission for more full weekends away, and we can attend church at camp if we get ourselves up and ready, which is a cozy, rustic experience taking place in a large shed-like building). Anyway, bottom line is that we have been making good use of our trailer!

Retreat is important, isn't it? That mental and physical space, removed from everyday chores and "to do" lists. The time to read, talk, reflect, and focus. We have had some worthwhile adoption-related discussion and reading on these weekends in addition to leisure time and (mostly satisfying) outdoor projects on our camp-site. While I'm not sure I feel great about being so undecided about our adoption plans for the past many months, we do seem to be united in our indecision. Hmm. Trying to see the up-side!

Anyway, we have talked about lots of options and possibilities, and we are both of two minds at the moment. One is that we are still committed to our Africa adoption goal. The other is that, after living so much uncertainty with international adoption programs, we may not want to be quite so exclusive in our adoption process at this time. So, we have been tip-toeing into learning about things like public domestic adoption. We are currently in a more specific exploration/decision-making/waiting process in that regard. Lots to discover, ask, etc. Not wanting to make any unnecessary changes or rush any decisions along the way, but wanting timely responses and information to know whether, or whether not, to move along with anything new. Other options can still be long and complicated as well, so patience and fortitude are still necessary! And...along with progress, or potential progress, I see signs of distraction, nuisance obstacles - nothing big so far, but those little things that creep up to get in the way of clarity, peace, and even pleasure in the process. At least, I suppose, I am starting to recognize the pattern, and to expect it. Hopefully that makes it easier to more effectively respond to the distractions and set-backs as they come.

After 2.5 years+, three countries, and various updates along the way, we are doing more thinking than we did before starting out. Things seemed so simple - do a homestudy, sign up, and wait for a referral. Some of the reflecting I have done recently has lead me to realize that our early dive into adoption, while sincere and based on a true commitment to adoption, was perhaps also romanticized, limited in scope and possibility, and certainly somewhat naive. Through the waiting and change, we have been able to examine our adoption motives, interests, and decisions more critically. I really believe that whatever route we take from now on (even if little changes in fact and detail) will be more intentional, better-informed, and more reflective of who we are, and why we chose this journey toward family, deep down, in the first place. And that will ensure our adoption, when it happens, takes into account everything that is important to us and the reasons why we are doing this. Perhaps more on that in another post - but I am referring to issues like choosing an age range, choosing a country, identifying particular "special needs" we are and are not comfortable considering - so many things we didn't know about or consider when we started out, but which could lead us to a more exciting and fulfilling conclusion, again, if only because we are more certain and intentional about what we are doing.

So, currently, here are our hopes and prayers:

• Patience and peace for the waiting, even savouring the moment, realizing that at some point things may change quickly - just letting each day come and go as it will.
  
• Timely responses - yes, we want to be patient while waiting, but it would be lovely if there are a minimum of unnecessary delays in information-gathering, communicating, decision-making, etc., from this point forward
  
• Logistics - we cannot possibly predict or strategize how pieces of our puzzle will come together. One factor impacts another, and we have to allow the unknown domino effects to happen as they will, also hoping and praying that details and situations come together in workable and lovely ways
• For the "right" to prevail - for obstacles or distractions to be powerless to inhibit what "should" be, or to prevent enthusiasm, hope, and clarity of purpose
• Wisdom and discernment, in asking good questions, and in considering what is the path to travel at this time - to understand that which we need to learn/sense/hear, and to invest our energy and time where it will be best used - what to read, what options to delve into further, what to discuss, who to consult with...
  
• Acceptance of this process, and of the knowledge that we really can't predict where things are headed (as we have seen over the past 2.5+ years) - and then resting in that as contentedly as possible, with expectation
  

Yet the Lord longs to be gracious to you;
therefore He will rise up to show you compassion.
For the Lord is a God of justice.
Blessed are those who wait for Him.

Isaiah 30:18