Humbled and Expectant

I sometimes wonder about the nature of things.  Oooooo...that sounds really deep, doesn't it?  I don't really mean it that way. 

For the past few Christmases, we've had some drama or trauma.  Five years ago, my Dad had his stem cell transplant a few days before Christmas.  My Mom was here with us for the actual holiday because she'd caught some horrible sinus germ (there on the quarantine floor, go figure) and could not be around Dad.  He had no immune system by that point.  I remember being short-tempered, exhausted and pretty indifferent to Christmas.  Sadly, this was Ben's first Christmas home with us. 

We've had the occasional relative pull some sort of stunt that causes drama.  Usually, it's an out-of-state sibling who refuses to answer their phone because they have their feelings hurt over a (usually imagined) slight.  That makes for a joyful Christmas.  I usually have to leave the room and roll my eyes a few hundred times in the privacy of my bedroom. 

This year I was hoping for mainly low drama.  My ex brother in law remarried on 12/12/12, supposedly on a whim, but that's not putting us in the red zone on the drama-meter.  I mean my Mom is all concerned about my sister but I kinda wonder about that.  Sister seems to be okay about it.

I have been in the Advent spirit here. Advent means expectant. Seems fitting with our life right now. I was feeling smug about Christmas.  Small group here - just both Moms, my sister and the three of us.  Completely manageable.  My gifts that needed shipping have already arrived at their destinations.  I have one gift card left to get and then I just need to wrap some gifts. 

 But, then, with a stroke of a pen, our expectations are dashed and we are left shaking and fearful of what is to come.  We have rallied and railed, written to those in power, and prayed to the one with all  power. 

How much faith did it take Mary to overcome the fear of what was to come?  Did she wonder about her ability to see it through?  I wonder about mine.  I refuse to believe that God's will is fickle.  I also refuse to believe that "bad things" happen because God wills it.  That would be just too mean.  I am trying so hard to insulate my heart and protect it in case the worst happens.  I doubt I have been very successful in this endeavor. 

I have spent exactly one year on this path to our future.  Are we supposed to stop?  Turn aside? Stay straight ahead?  I am distracted and wondering constantly if there was some sign or omen that I missed.

So I walk into this Christmas wondering what next Christmas will look like.  I cannot be smug, only searching.  The drama hurts my heart.  I silently cry out for a Christmas gift that cannot be purchased, only wished and prayed for.  Peace on Earth, Goodwill to all people. 
 

The take-away

I was just reading my friend's blog.  She's funny, wise, and incredibly insightful with her daughter.  I come away from her blog understanding more about my situation and my reactions with Ben.

Just now, she was recounting a story about an adopted child saying that she felt like a empty, broken jar that can't be filled.  So...I move this through the several synaptic connections I have left...and wonder what it will take for Ben to feel filled.  Secure.  At Ease. 

Not the hyper-vigilant child who follows me from room to room.  Who won't go to sleep without being held close.  Who gets, literally, sweaty palms when encountering even a benign new situation.  At this point I am imagining  20 years down the road having Ben's future wife take my place getting him to sleep at night.  I have a feeling he's going to marry a girl who likes to cuddle cause he is CLINGY.

The last week or so, he's been pushing the arguing and controlling to new heights.  Of course, in our house, that's usually food-related.  Good news on that front is that, for the first time, Ben is wearing some of the same pants and all the same shirts as last winter. 

Anyway, Sunday morning was the time change.  Lovely to wake up in daylight again.  Ben and Kurt had made plans to go and get bagels for breakfast.  I know, you Northerners think we can't get good bagels down here.  But we go to a place called NY Bagels and they are really good.  Anyway, I get up at 7:30 and Ben is beginning to meltdown.  He goes and sneaks food for breakfast and then got in trouble for it.  He got in trouble for disobeying us and eating what constituted a full breakfast.  I suggested he eat a snack that could hold him until he and K got back with bagels.  He ends up in tears and Kurt and I are incredibly frustrated.  I am stymied and then I think about it.  His stomach thinks it's 8:30.  He usually eats breakfast at 6:30.  He's famished.  Duh.

It's really difficult to practice what the pros preach.  Invariably, my frustration stems from Ben being Ben and I am the one who can't handle it any longer.  Nice.  Some grown-up I turned out to be. 

Family is getting interesting, too.  Since they live close by, we see them pretty often.  What this also means is that I am getting "parenting advice" from them.  Uh oh.  This brings out my pinched and pursed face.  I think I am going to reread The Connected Child and start quoting it - or using page numbers - or something.  All I can think is that I better call in back-up from the non-judging babysitters while Kurt and I are in Russia or else it could be a really long week for Ben. 

And, no, we don't know when we're going to Russia.  We are waiting.  I really don't know how adoptive parents with long waits get through it.  Years of waiting?  I just don't think I am strong enough for that.  I have been catching myself staring at the phone. 

It feels harder this time.  I have been wondering why and I think I have come to a basic conclusion.

I know now what it's like to be a Mom.  I know how much I love Ben, how amazing he is, how much he has filled our lives.  I can't wait for that to happen all over again.  What's that line..."when you figure out who you want to spend the rest of your life with; you want the rest of your life to start right away".  something like that. 

Yep.  That's it. 

The Wait Officially Begins

Our giant overnight package including 2 apostilled copies, one plain copy package and a good amount of funds arrived at our agency yesterday.  By mid-afternoon the dossier had been approved and put in queue for Russia.

Now we wait.

I'll tell you up front that I don't wait well.  I am not serene.  While I accept that many hands (including God's) are touching this paperwork and that the plan for our lives is  not in our control at this point, I am not idly sitting by with a silly grin on my face.

I am fretting quietly.

I am distracting myself with projects.  Things that need to get done prior to us traveling to Russia.  Because, frankly, these projects probably won't get touched again until Chloe gets to elementary school.  Hubby and I want to redo our master bedroom closet - put in an organizer and some shelves.  We need to paint Chloe's room and get it, at least temporarily, furnished as a guestroom.   So many other things I can do to bide my time. 

Quoted wait time for girls is 6-18 months.   Yeah, we'll see how great I am doing in 6 months. 

I don't know how these amazing parents wait for YEARS for their referrals.  It's been one day and I'm already making travel plans in my head. 

The limbo of the wait.  I am sure there's some greater lesson to learn here.  How I become stronger emotionally, spiritually and physically because of this great time of enforced inactivity.  

Not a chance.

I'm back...

I know.  It's been a long time since I have posted.  I have been busy.  No excuse, but, frankly, how exciting it is to hear about me arguing with our medical insurance company over out-of-pocket expenses for our adoption medicals?  So, please fast forward with me...

Thursday was to be "dossier day".  This was the day to get everything apostilled and off to our agency.  I met briefly with out sw to pick up some revised pages.  Then off to the bank for a cashiers check.  Finally, I was on my way to the Apostille office.  Here in metro Atlanta, the state Apostille office is about 30 minutes away from my house.  It's not quite downtown, but certainly on the way.
A very polite lady greeted (smug) me at the Apostille Office.  First hitch in my perfect plan:  she said she would not be able to finish the package until 3:00 that afternoon.  I had a parent/teacher conference at 2:45 around the corner from my house so there was no way I'd be able to get the dossier out on Thursday.  deep breath.

Ms. Polite then said for me to take a seat while she reviewed the package.  After a few minutes, she came back with a handful of documents.  groan.  The warranty deed that I had retrieved from downtown county courthouse did not have an embossed stamp.  WHAT????  I asked before I left the courthouse the first time if the signature lines on the bottom were all I needed and was told "yes".   Then our color copies of our passports have their own state affidavit that need to be completed, signed and notarized.  Finally, the letter from the city we live in that explains that our neighborhood was absorbed into our city five years ago also needed to be notarized.  The City Clerk assistant assured me when I originally got the letter that the foil seal on the letter was "as good as a notary". 
So, I left the AO, muttering to myself, and drove downtown to hit the property records office.  I was able to get the deeds stamped, but was also quizzed by "Mr. Information Giver" about why we were adopting from Russia.  I would have been put off, probably even offended, but I just wanted to get going so I put up with it.

Next stop was our friend, our notary.  I stopped by her job and she came downstairs to notarize our passport docs.  That's when I notice that her commission is going to expire early next year.  NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!  We'd been told that our notary must have a lot of time left on their commission in case the wait goes 12 months or longer.  I was nauseated, breaking out in a cold sweat, and trying not to lose it out loud.  By this time it's 2:15 and I have my conference at 2:45 and I have not had lunch.  Not a great combination.

After a fast-food lunch, quickly eaten in the parking lot of Ben's school, and the parent/teacher conference, which seemed to be positive, I headed home to contact our agency about the notary issue.  Dread washed over me.  I am okay with myself over mistakes made out of genuine error, but stupid mistakes push my control-freak-over-achiever self to the brink.

I e-mailed our agency contact and started facing the reality that anything our notary, our friend had touched would need to be redone and resubmitted to apostille.  I also tried to work through the futility of $3/page for apostilled documents that are now trash.  Self-flagellation ensued.

Around 5:00 I received an e-mail from agency that has a solution.  I felt like crying in relief.  I don't know if they took special pity on me since I am usually so good at following directions or if they actually have this happen a lot. 

My initial "dossier day" became a two-day 150 mile adventure.  After work yesterday I went by City Hall (in our town it's an office in a business park), and had the letter notarized.  No problem.  So, why was it an issue the first time??????

Then back down to the AO.  Ms. Polite was there with all of my originally submitted docs, still in stacking order and neatly binder-clipped, waiting for me.  She took my handful of papers and was done in about 10 minutes.

I dropped off my two apostilled packages, one copy package, and three checks all in a giant overnight pouch at 4:30 yesterday.  Relief does not even begin to describe it.

I keep thinking that because I have been through this before that I would be more competent with the paperwork.  It is less intimidating this time around.  But the notary issue is a rookie mistake.  And how did I forget about the passport affidavits from the AO? 

Lessons learned.  Check everything twice and three times.  Call the AO before you drive down to ensure that your docs are going to be accepted for apostille.   Keep a bottle of the adult beverage of your choice nearby to take the edge off your despair/assist you in celebrating a great solution.

Anyway, dossier will be in our agency's hands on Monday.  I am going to take a few days off and then start thinking about doing the stuff around our house I've been avoiding for months. 

Vacation thoughts

We arrived home yesterday after a week in FL.  You know where we went - it's full of characters and rides and other stuff I feel I must comment on.

The three of us had a great time.  Ben loves the rides, does not feel compelled to stand in hour-long lines to snap a pic with any character, is not interested in looking like a pirate, and was terrific overall with the whole concept of 5 days at the mouse-house.

While there, we met up with my darling nephew, J, who is working there as his college internship.  He really enjoys the whole concept and has done well as a cast member.  He and his friend, S, joined us on Monday for the day at "the movie park, HS".  Ben LOVED it.  I mean, out loud, having a blast, entertaining his older cousin, so much fun he forgot to remind me he needed his snack, fun.  J is a middle child (like me) and has such great plans for his life.  He is a grounded kid in an artsy package.

Enough of the good stuff.

The following is a list of intelli-turds I feel I must share. 

1.  I don't care how hot it is, Do Not wear flip flops to WDW.  Just don't do it.  Why you ask?  Because by 3:00 on any given day you will be sporting at least one blister between your toes, your feet and back will be screaming at you for wearing unsupportive footwear, and your toes will have been run over by at least one (but probably two or more) strollers, scooters, wheelchairs, or rambunctious tweeners.   I wore sneakers - hot but safe.

2.  If your child is starting to show the signs of a meltdown please feed/hydrate/cool/or otherwise reduce the stimulation.  Ben and I kept a count of how many screaming kids we could hear each day.  Wednesday at Magic K was the worst.  It was 92 degrees and the kids were losing it.  We stopped counting around 40.  We knew from our previous trip to WDW that Ben must eat early at mealtimes - it's quieter in the restaurants and his body clock is set to school time (10:35 lunchtime).  It worked for all of us.

3.  Don't put names on your kids' shirts unless you keep forgetting who they are.  Strangers don't need to know their names.  It's not cute - it's scary - even at WDW.  You are in a strange place full of people you've never seen before.  All the security cameras in the world (and there are TONS of them) cannot completely erase the fact that bad people are everywhere.  If you're dying to look alike, wear all the same color (we saw LOTS of that) but leave off the names. 

4.  One great tip from sweet nephew.  Bottled water at the parks will run you $2.50 to $4.00 depending on where you are purchasing it.  By law, however, WDW is required to offer, for free, large cups of iced water (probably tap).  The water there is delicious and we used the free stuff to refill our thermoses everyday.  Saved us a ton in bottled water costs.

5.  Go left.  When approaching lines, or a park map, look to the left.  Americans are conditioned to go right.  Lines are typically shorter to the left and we went left once inside MK and worked our way from Adventureland to Tomorrowland.  It worked well - shorter lines and fewer people milling about.

6.  Remember - it's Florida.  It's warm for three months and hot the rest of the time.  Sunscreen is mandatory.  Oh the lobster-bodies we saw.  Even little kids.  I felt bad for them (not so much for the parents). 

7.  Going to a theme park requires cool and comfortable clothing.  Light colors, lightweight fabrics and necessary foundation garments are good suggestions.  If I was running the place, I would not let in any woman either sporting a poorly-fitted foundation garment or choosing not to wear one at all.  Holy Udders, Batman.  In the same vein, if you are a man whose body hair makes your front indistinguishable from your back, please, please, please wear a shirt with sleeves.  I don't find any man's arm-pit hair attractive and the amount of back hair I got to personally encounter could grow a tribe of Yeti. 

Sorry this post was not about more meaningful happenings.  Ben finished Kindy and is promoted to 1st grade, we visited my grandfather who is not doing well and that was tough, saw my brother and his family and that was terrific, and we are back home now and happy to be here. 

Quick follow up

Ben's teacher sent me  an e-mail.  She apologized for the incident with the scratch on Ben's arm.  She assured me that the offender had been punished.  She also said that the boys in her class seem intent on hurting each other this year.  She's going to ask the school counselor to come in and talk to the class.

With three weeks left of school, I think this is probably the most she can do.  So, let's discuss how I will be changing my behavior as a result of this week's conflicts and confrontations.

Teacher confirmed that Ben's account of the arm-scratching episode was exactly accurate.  This means two things.

One, Ben told me the whole truth.  He was asked to help his classmate clean up after group time.  Ben went over to lend a hand.  Classmate got mad and scratched Ben.  Hard enough to need band aids. I must take what Ben tells me at home and pursue it with teacher in the future in order to protect and advocate for my son.

Second, Ben does not trust his teachers enough to tell them when a physical altercation occurs.  His remark to me is that when he tells the teachers about a problem they "tell him to go sit down and do his work".  Ben then stops telling them anything.  Case in point was the fingernail incident with Other Classmate.  The gouge on Ben's arm was deep enough to bleed, scab and leave a scar and he said nothing to the teachers about it.  Again, he had been asked by the teacher to "help Other Classmate" and Other Classmate got mad.

So, I am learning. I am also thinking that Ben's acting out behavior in the past few weeks may be linked to this toxic dynamic in the classroom.  Post-institutional and trauma-brain coping skills are like that.  Ben copes by "reminding" a person, usually in a negative attention way, that he exists and needs care.  If he feels that his teachers are not going to back him up, treat him fairly, or attend to his needs, then he will act out in order for him to prove his existence.  This is how he copes and how he has coped since before I met him.  The baby house workers told me this the first time I met Ben. 

I know that Ben has to work through and with the class dynamic - and somehow manage to actually learn the curriculum.  I am eagerly awaiting summer break. 

What the....?

Yeah, that's what Ben says when he's flummoxed by a situation and knows that he'll get in trouble for adding any words to the end of that question.

Ben's classroom behavior is all riled up again.  He's resistant to the work.  He finds the electric pencil sharpener much more interesting than Math Group.  He and his ever-changing band of kindy-miscreants tickle, tease, insult, and think up new ways to torment each other and their teachers. 

I get e-mails from the teacher, notes from the teacher and sometimes a dreaded "Refocus" form.  I will take a moment here to roll my eyes.  I like a Refocus form that tells me exactly the nature and scope of offense and the solution.  Lately, I am getting chapter books on Ben's unwillingness to cooperate. Just say it and move on.  I don't need chapter and verse of every offense.  As far as I am concerned, by the time he gets home from school it's too late for me to deal with something that happened at 9:30 in the morning.  It would be like me scolding my dog today for peeing on the carpet yesterday. 

Intellectually, I understand that Ben must learn to behave according to class rules or he will have a miserable school experience - or even worse- end up being homeschooled by me.  Now, homeschooling is great for some.  I lack the genetic makeup to teach and my child who loves me "MORE MORE MORE" does not want me to teach him anything.  So school it is.

However, he has also come home twice in the last two weeks with injuries imparted to him by other students.  This makes me furious.  Soul-shaking, swearing like a salty seaman, Mama Bear furious.  One child grabbed hold of Ben's forearm and dug his fingernails in so hard that Ben had a puncture wound in the shape of a fingernail.  Teacher and Asst. Teacher did not see it happen and Ben did not tell anyone so nothing happened. 

As an aside, I have to wonder how Ben feels in his heart of hearts about his teachers.  He usually does not trust a teacher enough to take care of him so he just does not tell them about physical altercations.  This could make advocating for him.

Yesterday, Ben got off the bus with two band aids on his arm.  Asst Teacher put them there to cover a deep scratch given to him by another student.  The scratch still looks red this morning and it's over three inches long.  What the ??? Is Ben leaving his marks on other students? 

I sent a late-night e-mail to the teacher yesterday.  The black-hole that my child enters everyday at 7:20 and leaves at 2:20 prevents me from understanding and experiencing the class dynamic and chemistry.  I have visited the school and class often enough to know the children by sight, but I don't know who the instigator is and who the followers are.  Ben might be leading the charge of misbehavior or he might be following along. 

I am waiting to hear from Teacher.  I respect her and genuinely like her.  I am hopeful that she will be able to impart some fill in information for me.  Ben is a lot of things, but he is not much of a liar (really bad at it) and confesses his wrongdoings to pretty much anyone who will listen. 

Is his behavior related to the confrontations with classmates?  Is he just tired of school?  I know he's struggling still with mastering his sight words.  Is this causing him to act out?  He rocks the Math work -so is he bored in math group?  I have had conferences with both Teacher and Asst. Teacher.  AT told me that "Ben will have trouble" in school unless he tows the line.  She seems to be pretty old school.  I was waiting for her to tell me that he needs meds.  I am not seeing signs of any of the alphabet-disorders.  And, trust me, I look. 

Oh, and the best part.  Ben was sent to the Principal's office this week for threatening another child in his class.  He said that he was going to punch her and then punched his palm with his other hand.  The Asst Principal called me and lectured us both on how serious this offense was.  The school has a zero tolerance policy on bullying and threats.  I get it.  I was so upset as was dear hubby.  Ben has been punished in a manner we feel is age-appropriate and meaningful.

But he did not touch his classmate. 

Okay, just received an e-mail from the teacher.  I better go read it and see what's up. 

 

Sorry about that

It's been a rather hectic few weeks here. Last week was Spring Break and we went to visit the in-laws. It was a good visit - pretty low key, the weather was fabulous, and Ben had plenty of time to swim and play.

Ben had a cough while we were out of town. After a few days I noticed that he was not coughing anything up even though it sounded like a wet, deep cough. Saturday afternoon late we returned home and decided that a trip to the urgent care clinic sounded like a good idea. Turns out he has pneumonia.

Oh goodness. Hubby and I felt like the absolute worst parents ever! How could we not know he had pneumonia? Hmmm...he was running around happy, swimming, running, not sickly or running a fever. Appetite was off a bit and he was breathing heavy, but that's not outside his scope of pollen reactions.

So this week has been trying to convince Ben he should rest and lay low. He went to school yesterday and apparently it was too much for him. He was wiped out this morning. He fell asleep two hours ago sprawled across the big chair and ottoman and is still sawing logs. Wish he'd do this every day.

So, we met with our Social Worker before spring break. We'll call her A. We, well, I mean, I, am in the midst of paperwork for the homestudy and the registration docs for our agency. It feels productive to get going on this and still daunting to think about what's ahead.

So, I am trying to think back to the first year Ben was home. I am working on remembering how he reacted to new things and how much care he needed (diapers, bottles, etc.). It's really hard to remember much on the day to day of Ben in 2007. It was all filtered through a lens of sleep deprivation and grief. My Dad was losing his battle with leukemia, my dear hubby was fighting a bacterial infection that eventually led to surgery, and my family was not able to support me on a daily basis.

Thank God for my friends. The C's, friends before during and after the adoption, and the H's, my first friends post adoption, kept me from driving away from it all. I should probably call them and ask what I need - they were new parents as well that same year.

It does feel like a cliff. Right now it's the gently sloping uphill hike of paper forms and obscure governmental clearances and teaching yourself to not ask "why do they need that?".

One day we'll reach the top, accept the referral, meet our child, get through court and the whole "don't pinch me, I might wake up" jet-lagged, numb feeling pervades, insulating me from the emotional upheaval.

Then the jump off the cliff, which absurdly came to me at the moment I boarded the airplane to the US with Ben. For Russia Adoptive Moms, this is the last moment someone is coming to say "this is not your child". When we landed on US soil, our child became automatic US citizen.

It's a strong soup of emotions and I think this time around I will be much more aware of the reactions of my child (and children once home) than I was the first time.

Generations of Kindergarten

As a Mom to a preschooler, I was well aware of the "just wait til Ben gets to kindergarten" statement. I pretty much thought that these well-intentioned Moms were warning me about his attitude or behavior or something. I don't recall anyone warning me about the curriculum.

Ben has a book report due this week. Have I mentioned that he's in kindergarten? Oh, and that he can't read yet? His other homework this week was addition and subtraction. Thankfully, he's equipped with a math brain and gets through these problems (yes, WORD problems) pretty easily.

And March is "sight word assessment" month. In order to get a satisfactory on his skills assessment, he needs to identify 30 sight words in 1 minute. Right now he gets around 5-10. I am bribing, uh, I mean, incentivizing him with a new Wii game if he'll at least work on them with me so he can get the 30. We started this in February. Today is March 1st and so far - no go. He does not want me to help him with his homework.

He waits for hubby to come home. I don't get it. I don't care if his numbers are backwards or if his letters are not neat. Hubby is all over him to make sure the pages looks neat and orderly. I guess this means that Hubby has to help him memorize sight words (hmmm...probably not going to happen).

Ben has already accomplished skills I remember first discovering in higher grades like greater than and less than and 2d and 3d shapes. He learned the first week of school about Mondrian (I had to look him up).

I know some moms have their kids in private learning centers (Kumon and such) to help them get ahead on their skills. Is that what I have to do?

Not excited.

So, if anyone has some advice on sight words (and don't use the words flash cards to me) I would love to hear it. Better yet, if anyone would like to tutor Ben so I can skip the daily 5 rounds I have to go with him just to get him to look at his homework, I'd really appreciate it.

In the starting gates

I know. STILL getting started. Have not started the homestudy yet. Haven't sent in the contract yet. Of course, we have done other, non-paperwork, tangential adoption things. We cleaned out three closets - one in Ben's room, one in the guest room and the hall closet in between. Next we are moving Ben to the guest room because it's larger.

We have picked out new bedroom furniture and paint for Ben's room. Luckily, dear hubby loves home improvement projects. And he hates letting me paint. For crying out loud - it's a roller! I have painted many walls in my life. But, according to sweet K, I paint all wrong. So, it's his project for the weekend.

We also decided to trade in my car and get a new (to me) car. It's bigger than my old car and can easily hold two Britax car seats. It's not a minivan, but I do fit right in in my community. Welcome to SUV Land. Please no flaming my carbon footprint.

Today I found out that the Adoption Coordinator (S) and Regional Coordinator (L) that helped us with our paperwork for Ben are still with our adoption agency and we can work with them again. Yay! S and L were great hand-holders and cheerleaders.

Oh, Mom is moving into town on Thursday. She'll be about 5 minutes away. I doubt I would be as excited about adopting Little Sister if my Mom was not around. Her help will be indispensable.

So, as we say down here, we are fixin' to get ready.

The First Bump

Ben has been sick this week. High fever but no other symptoms. Viral. So we have been stuck together while we wait for the fever to break. I feel awful when he feels bad. I feel worse when he starts to feel better. He gets bored, testy, cabin fever sets in, and we wait for the all clear to get back to school. Right now it looks like tomorrow is back-to-school day.

He'll go one day this week and then be off for the President's Day long weekend. Whee.

I heard from two IRL friends this week about the current state of Russian adoptions. After as much reading as I could do while Ben pestered me, the best I could glean is that the bi-lateral agreement hammered out last summer (and signed by both countries' reps) needs to be ratified by the Russian Parliament after the presidential elections there in March. Until then, adoptions are slowing. They may even be coming to a halt in some regions.

Ah, the first bump in the road. When we were in the process for Ben there were several bumps along the way. Politics, election year campaigns, public policy, and social issues all influence the state of inter-country adoptions.

There's also the very real issue of wanting to ensure that the children adopted by US families are loved, nurtured and understood. There have been 17 cases of children adopted from Russia that have been abused/killed by their US adoptive parents. In the larger statistics this does not seem overly large for 20 years of adoptions. However, any case of child abuse is horrific. The Mom from the Dr. Phil show who appeared so she could complain about her child ended up facing charges for using Tabasco sauce as a punishment for her son who'd been adopted from Russia. Makes me want even stricter post placement requirements.

Parenting a post-institutional child is not easy. But parenting an in-utero child is not easy either. They just have some different issues.

Ok, where was I going with this post? We've hit a bump. We are going forward as planned because we are kinda pokey with paperwork and have not paid any big fees yet. By spring the agreement is expected to be ratified. We will keep plugging away and hoping for an early spring.

The Connected Child Book Report

I feel like I am 6th grade again. But I really do want to share this book with you.

The Connected Child, by Dr. Karyn Purvis.

It's on Amazon, by the way.

I would love to say that I found this book while passing the aisles of the parenting section of A&B book stores (on my way to Womens World Fiction, of course). I would love to say that I find the title endearing, though not applicable to my circumstances. I would love to be self-righteous in my self-deprecation and only a little smug.

However, this book was recommended to me by my Mom. Ouch. Her best friend knows The Monroes. The Monroes are an adoptive couple who conduct parenting seminars with Dr. Purvis based on this book. They also host a website called Empowered to Connect. Mom and Pat (her BF) were discussing the latest "life with Ben" episodes and Pat suggested that I look the book over.

First, Dr. Purvis works at TCU in the Institute of Child Development. She works with children "from hard places." This includes but is not limited to IA, foster-adopt, foster, older child and special needs adoptions.

I read the Table of Contents and thought that Dr. P had been living in my house. Where PC (Dr. Patty Cogan) had enlightened us with the personality of our recent adoptee and the importance of understanding how the now is determined by the past, Dr. P gives word for word advice on how to deal with the storms, defiance, insecure attachments, and other leftover residues of the life these children had before us.

I readily admit that I will need to review this book at least monthly for a while. The parenting advice is counter-intuitive to the parenting I received, my DH received, my Mom received - hell, everyone I know was raised like I was. A yell was ok, a spank was fine when necessary and there were some tough rules.

So here I am with a strong-willed, hypervigilant, insecurely attached child whose actions tell me he is still depending on himself and not us for his care. When your child's first phrase is "I DO IT!" you should listen up.

I feel like I am negotiating Mid-East peace at times. Other times I throw up my emotional hands and decide that the battle is not worth fighting. And, even in this I am not consistent.

So Dr. P has chapters about solving the puzzle of difficult behavior, disarming the fear response with "felt safety", teaching life values, you are the boss, dealing with defiance, and nurturing. Oh yeah, here's a book for me.

I read this the first time before Thanksgiving and it really did help the traumaversaries. I feel myself backsliding into old habits (like screeching) and need to reread the chapters again.

There are even proactive strategies to make life easier. WHAT???? A whole chapter. Yep.

So I am endorsing this book as a companion piece to the science-based Parenting Your IA Child by Dr. P. Cogan. They work well together. And, frankly, if we're jumping through these hoops again with LS (little sister) then I am sure I will need to be on top of my game.

Roller Coaster or Waves?

Ben has been decidedly undecided about a sibling. He is not interested in DH and I traveling anywhere without him. I think he'd be quite fine if a sibling could be gained while at Disney World. He actually asked on Sunday if we could order a sister online. I know. The Adoptive Mom in me physically blanched and cringed at that one. DH gently explained that siblings are not shoes - you can't order them online. Aside - I don't even order shoes online - they must be tried on in person, duh!

Last night was a good one. I have been trying to leave the subject alone for a while. After all, we are still waiting for God to show us the way we're going to go about this adoption now that He's given us the want. And, yes, I mean financially. One thing we learned with Ben is that you have to keep spending money once they arrive - that whole food, clothing, SHOES thing just does not let up.

Anyway, Ben looked at me in the car and said "you know, Mom, I have been thinking about names for the sister we're not going to be adopting". Yep, that's my boy. He's so torn.

I can't blame him. Three or maybe four one-week trips for Mom and Dad over a few months. Talk about hard.

So we're still working it out. My sweet DH (who I was convinced had put this adoption on the back burner) has been talking to his HR department about getting Adoption Benefits added to his company. He even contacted the Dave Thomas Foundation (on his own, no guidance from me). His company is based in a very benefit-heavy state. I think his medical insurance pays for like 9 IVF's completely. But no adoption assistance. So, we'll see how that goes.

Riding the wave because roller coasters make me heave.

Quick update

I just finished a post I began on Christmas Day. I was mentally venting and it still felt honest, so there it is.

I am sure if I still have any readers on this blog, they are surprised to hear me state out loud that we are seriously considering going back to Russia.

My Mom stated that I did not look excited. I said "we're a long way from getting excited". At least this time I know the hurdles. I am hopeful that I can be more efficient with the paperwork.

It's surprising to me that this feels so right. I will be very disappointed if we can't get our details worked out. Faith and hope. The cornerstones of adoption.