Topsy Turvy

I forgot.

I forgot how much a toddler can turn your world upside down and topsy-turvy. 

I forgot what it was like to wake up completely exhausted because your baby woke up in the middle of the night and while he seemed so sad and so sweet cuddling up to you when you put him in your bed, you soon realized that he just wanted to use you as a pillow. So you had to spend the next five hours not moving, with a ten pound head (bowling ball) squirming over your arm, then your chest, then your belly, then your arm again.  And that is why I have not and never will be a co-sleeper. 

I forgot what it felt like to not be able to turn your head for one.single.second.  Because one.single.second is all it takes for your sweet little one to decide to practice his new words “up!” and “down!” by jumping up and down in his high chair. 

I forgot that diapers cannot be left off those cute little baby buns for any amount of time.  Some things just should not be cleaned off the floor.  Ever.

I forgot how much mess can be created in one small space by such a small creature.  If dumping toys out of baskets were a sport, my son could be an Olympic gold medalist. 

I forgot how miserable applying sunscreen to an already wet and sandy baby can be. 

I forgot how easily you can turn into a crazy lady if someone makes too much noise in the house during nap time.  “Quiet! YOU BETTER NOT WAKE UP YOUR BROTHER!”

I forgot how much true love can be seen when your husband takes all of the kids out and leaves you home alone for just one hour.  Solitude and quiet can truly restore your soul.

I forgot those moments when all the kids are miserable and unhappy and it is all your fault because you just won’t let them have or do the one thing they must have or do or their world will end in total despair. 

   (Truth: these three don't smile all the time.)

Those moments when the only thing you can do is close your eyes, cry a little bit and pray.  “God, help me get through these next 90 seconds with just a little bit of grace.  Help me not to say something that will hurt their hearts too much.  Help me know what to do to bring some peace and calm into this moment.  Give me peace.  Give me calm.” 

And there it is.  

So faint, like a vapor.  

Peace.  Calm. 

I forgot that God is near in every moment, even the crazy, pull your hair out, gone too fast, toddler chaos moments. When nothing feels sacred and you realize that in the last month you have read that "Where is Spot?" book two hundred more times than you have even opened a Bible.  When you can't remember the last time you took a shower, but that's ok because you have not gone anywhere that mandated you look pretty or smell nice.  When you just cannot understand why your child does not get tired of hearing you sing "The Itsy Bitsy Spider." 

    (Evidence of my last shower)

 It is so simple, it seems like a lesson for children and not their grown up mama with a theology degree: Every second of every day, God is near. Which means these messy days full of mayhem and chaos are more sacred than I will ever know. 

"I look behind me and you’re there,

    then up ahead and you’re there, too—

    your reassuring presence, coming and going."

-Psalm 139 (MSG)

Moments

This one...

..because Daddy needs stickers on his head, too. 

This one....

....because I think their love for each other is the most beautiful thing. 

This one...

....because he finally has sunglasses that won't fall off his little ear. 

This one...

...because every night he falls asleep in my arms, only after he gives me one last kiss. Sometimes, in those precious, end of the day, almost asleep moments, when I just can't keep my joy-filled tears at bay, he pats my cheeks dry with his baby hands and smiles just a little as if to say, "I love these moments, too."

"i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes"

e.e. cummings

We Remember and He Forgets

My dad is in India. He visited an orphanage today, the children all sang to him and each one made sure to tell him "Happy Father's Day!" Even though they don't celebrate Father's Day in India,  someone knew and decided he needed to be blessed by the orphans in this small but sweet way. Blessed by the orphans. We think of orphans as the ones who need our blessings, our prayers, our money, our love. We forget that they have blessings of their own to share with us. We forget that we, too, are desperately needy for joy, for friendship, for love.

When I heard about my father and his Father's Day with the orphans, my mind went immediately to the place it always goes when someone mentions orphans. "I wish I could help, but what can I do?"  Then I remembered that no less than a month ago I took an orphan into my arms and called him my own. 

Had I already forgotten that moment when time stood still? When I opened my arms and my heart for that baby boy who was a stranger, an orphan with a recently shaved head, clothes that were threadbare, and all of his belongings sent in one small shopping bag. He came to us with a set of playing cards, some hard boiled eggs, a baby bottle filled with rock sugar, some old, worn clothes, and the photo albums we had sent. Oh, and his Bunny, sent to him by us a few months before, who has constantly been by his side while he bravely faces this new life of his. 

     (Bunny also pretends to be a horse.)

It is so easy for me to forget those things because my mind does not think of him as an orphan any more. I look at him and see my son. I see his brilliance shining through every smile, every laugh, every new word he acquires. (Today's word was "balloon" and he worked so very hard to master each syllable just so.) I have not forgotten how we found him or how we waited (and waited) for him. Yet, he fits into our family so perfectly, so seamlessly, that it seems as if he has always been here. 

I also think my mind wants to forget that he was an orphan because that is the miracle of adoption. Adoption is a redefining of our very identity. In one moment, strangers became mother and son, father and son, brother and sister, grandmother and grandchild. We were transformed in an instant and there is no going back.

 I get it now. The old is gone and we are a new creation. God does not remember that we came to him tattered and scarred. He has forgotten that we were orphans. He sees only his daughter, only his son. We are the ones who want to remember. We keep going back to before. We ask God, "Remember when I was that person who was lost and angry and full of judgment all the time?"  God says, "No, I had forgotten. Now you are my child who knows my love and you are none of those things. When I see you, I see your brilliance shining through."

We are transformed and there is no going back. 

"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: the old has gone, the new is here." 2 Cor 5:17

Families

“A Father to the Fatherless, a defender of widows is God in His holy dwelling place.”

Last October, when Justin and I found Carter on our adoption agency’s waiting child list, we were given his file to review and asked to make a decision within two weeks.  Because all of the information in his file was over six months old, we asked for some updated information specifically about his growth and development.  We were told that they would ask his orphanage, but there was no guarantee that they would answer before our time limit was up.  We could tell from his photos that he was in the Lily Orphan Care Center and on the wall of his room there was a mural with the words, “A Father to the fatherless…” 

“A Father to the fatherless.”

 I knew that it was in a Psalm somewhere.  So I looked it up and did what I often do with scriptures, I held it in my heart, thinking about it from time to time.  I mentioned it to Justin.  “Isn’t that beautiful imagery? God is a Father to us all, especially those who have no father or no mother.” I think he might have said something like, “Yeah. That’s cool.”  Or maybe, “That’s a lot of masculine imagery.”   Sometimes scripture does that to me.  It gets right under my skin, makes me uncomfortable, stirs my heart, invades my thinking, and generally just won’t let me go until I stop and listen to whatever it is trying to tell me.  There’s usually a lesson I need to hear, a message I have never quite seen before. 

All this time we were also praying about this little boy named Guo.  Was he our son?  Would we get our answers in time?  How do we make a decision like this?  How do you say “No” or “Yes” to being parents to a child who so desperately needs a family?

I had been visiting a new church on my own for a few months and I was still uncomfortable being back in a loud music, hand raising, “happy clappy” church (to quote Sarah Bessey) and had not yet fully realized just how much my heart needed those exact things in order to begin the healing that it desperately needed.  On this Sunday, our waiting to make a decision Sunday, Justin was on fall break from SU chapel services, and was able to attend worship with me. 

After the end of the first song, the worship leader pulled a Bible out of his pocket, opened it up and began to read…

“Sing to God; sing in praise of his name,

extol him who rides on the clouds;

rejoice before him—his name is the Lord.

A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows,
    

is God in his holy dwelling.

The Lord sets the lonely in families.”  

                                                  Psalm 68:4-6

I looked at Justin the same time he looked at me.  “Did that really just happen?”

Yep.  It did.  We honestly did not know what to think.  Except, maybe God was hearing our prayers.  Sometimes, we don’t need answers from God or neon signs pointing us in the right direction.  Sometimes we need a whispered reassurance that we are not walking alone.  That is what that moment was for me, a whisper in my heart.  God was near.

Two days later we received the updates we requested.  We spoke with the specialists about his medical and developmental issues.  We prayed some more, and then we made the biggest leap of faith we had ever made. 

The Lord sets the lonely in families. 

Through all my doubts and fears and moments of total panic, I kept coming back to that Sunday in church and that small, but very real point in time when God was near.

The Lord sets the lonely in families.

Now here we are with a beautiful and brilliant son.  He is amazing.  Every day he becomes more and more comfortable here with us.  He knows how to tell us he wants to eat.  He has his favorite toys and books.  We have our special reading chair and our special snuggle chair.  He knows his sister is the one to go to if he wants potato chips.  He knows Daddy gives the best baths but Mama will put his lotion on just the right way.  He saw Charlie crying yesterday and walked over to comfort him by handing him a ball.  This is his family.  This is his home.  I think he knows it. 

The Lord sets the lonely in families.

So, this is it, little boy.  We are your family.  Your Mama who worries too much and doesn’t make you eat your vegetables like she should but will always be waiting to smother you with kisses. 

 Your Daddy who snores a lot and eats too much candy but who will always, always, always take care of you.

    (Daddy playing games on the stairs.)

   Your sister who will be bossy sometimes, but sweet almost always.

  Your brother who adores you almost as much as he loves yogurt drinks.

One day you will have to realize just how much our own crazy made you crazy. 

 Yes, your family is bigger than just the five of us.  Much, much bigger.  But we are the ones who are blessed to know you best, to care for you the most, and to stand closest to you through this journey we call life…until you are all grown up and decide to have a family of your own.  Family is life because it is also the place where love and grace should always be plenty.  I am so glad the Lord set you in ours.   

"A Father to the fatherless, a defender of widows is God in His holy dwelling place. The Lord sets the lonely in families."

Just a few pictures

Carter loves to take fake pictures with our phones and iPods. He is saying "Cheese!" to the dog...

Now I will take a picture of you, Mama. "Cheese!"

This boy loves music...

First trip to our pool...

Carter slept in the bed with his foster grandmother before he came to us so we have had him sleeping in between us for the last three weeks. Yesterday we moved Carter from our bed to the pack n play next to our bed. Best decision yet. He slept for ten hours last night! (Don't ask about the pillow pet. It's a texture/sensory thing.)

I love watching these two together. It is beautiful to see their love grow...

Finding Normal Again

We have only been home for less than five days but it feels like things are slowly moving towards our new normal. Carter seems to have moved in as if he always lived here. "This is my playroom. These are my toys. Yes."  

Camdyn and Charlie jumped right back into things as soon as we got back. They are enjoying those last party filled fun days of school this week. Soccer and baseball are in full swing and our pool is even open!

I worried a lot about how this trip and this adoption would impact Camdyn and Charlie. I know that the jury is still out on the latter, but they both have blossomed in their own ways over the last few weeks. Charlie is a sweet and doting big brother, as long as Carter stays away from his baseball cards. 

He has always been my snuggle bug and before we left I introduced the question, "Is your cuddle tank full?"  He will say, "All full!" or "Half way." or when he is feeling a little sad or like he needs more attention, he will say, "My cuddle tank is empty."  This has given him a way to ask for mommy time without having to come out and say it and I think it has helped him transition away from being the baby in the family to being a big brother. 

Camdyn just is amazing and did incredibly well in our trip. She seemed to come out of her shell and went from having anxiety about eating at any restaurant to being the one raising her hand to tell Chinese waitresses when we needed more water or when we were ready for our bill. 

She and Charlie were adventuresome when it came to food, more than I ever expected. They even ate and ordered these conch shell mussels at a Japanese restaurant we tried towards the end if our trip!

I think that what makes our transition time so much better is that Justin also has paternity leave from Shenandoah University. We have always been a non-traditional family in the sense that we truly co-parent and try to equally share the responsibility of raising our children. That's just how we do family. Justin is a super-dad who puts his kids first every single time and he needs this time to bond with Carter as much as I do. Even though he still has work stuff going on from time to time, for the most part we are together as a family as much as possible- grocery shopping, errands, etc. We are blessed to have this time together and I know it is only possible because we both have phenomenally supportive employers.

We have been dealing with some attachment issues that didn't become obvious until after we got home. As cute and charming as Carter is, he is also a mommy-shopper. "Mommy shopping" is not uncommon in adopted children and if you think about it from the perspective of a 22 month old, makes total sense. Carter's first mother abandoned him. Then he was cared for by a constant rotation of nannies in his orphanage. Then he had a foster mother but after a few months with her was moved to a new home where he had a foster mother (who primarily cared for her own son) and was therefore cared for by a foster grandmother. Then, his whole world turned upside down and these funny looking and funny sounding people took him away from his home. He knows we are fun and we feed him and care for him and almost always give him whatever he wants. He lets us comfort him when he's hurt and clings to us when he scared or unsure. But we also do things no toddler likes- we change his diaper, we wipe food off his face, we make him take medicine, we tell him "No!" when he hits us, and we make him stay buckled into that awful thing called a car seat (which are non-existent in China.)  

So, he is clearly looking to see if someone else will be more fun than us. He is looking for a mommy or daddy that will be all play and never say "No."  He's only known us for two weeks, so we don't take it personally. Before my mom left, we saw that he was starting to prefer her to us. It was especially difficult because once we realized what was going on, we had to cut short my parents' visit here. My amazing, wonderful mom spent her last day here literally hiding from Carter. Not because we asked her, but because she knew it was not ok for him to reach for her and say "Mama!" whenever she walked in the room.  My dad drove all the way up here from Tennessee and got to see Carter for less than a few hours before they had to leave.  (Trust me, I can't wait for him to go to their farm and experience all the glorious spoiling that is waiting for him there, but not until he understands that this is home and he can't trade Justin and I in for more fun parent models.)

Our suspicions were even more confirmed when after an hour playing with my teenage nieces, he was crying at the door when they left saying, "Mama!"  If he is upset, he will sometimes even reach for Camdyn instead of us. She's all fun and that's how big sisters should be, but he doesn't know the difference yet between a fun sister and a mommy. 

Once we realized what was going on, Justin and I decided to be more serious about boundaries than we had anticipated. We have limited who comes over and given strict rules that sound a little over the top, like: 

1) Don't blow bubbles. Even if he asks. 

2) Don't hand him any toys.

3) If he offers you a toy, kindly point to either one of us and tell him to give it to his mama or baba. 

4) Don't give him anything to eat. 

5) Don't pick him up. Even if he gives you the sweetest smile and raises his hands up super high. 

6) Don't sit on the floor when he is around playing. 

For any other toddler, these things would be no big deal, but for Carter and for us, these are our only tools for attachment. Play and nurture. Play and nurture. Play and nurture. And time. 

Justin and I spent the last year reading and researching as much as we could in preparation for just these kinds of things. We are not making this up on our own but are just following advice from experts who know a lot more about this stuff than we do. We are trying to make the best choices for our son and our family as we go along. We have no idea how long it will be this way, but until we know that he has stopped mommy (and daddy) shopping, that's just how it will have to be. 

If anyone has questions about adoption, attachment, or even about Carter, you are always welcome to ask. We are always happy to share our experiences and our hearts with anyone who will listen.