Two years ago today

Two years ago today, our youngest two boys came home to us forever from Haiti.  Madison and Thomas went with us on our pick up trip.  It is incredibly hard to believe that Richnigthder and Jerome have been with us so long.  In a lot of ways, it feels like they have always been with us, and in other ways, I still judge time as before they were home, and after they were home. 

They have grown unbelievably in every aspect of life.  They are wonderful, delightful boys and we are enormously grateful that we get to be their parents.  Two years ago today, I was bursting with joy and anticipation of knowing that when I left Haiti, I was taking them with me...forever.  Throughout the 27 month long adoption journey, there were many days I doubted that the journey would ever end.  I worried endlessly that they would be stuck in Haiti and never, ever come home.  I cried buckets and made Marc's life a living nightmare.  He always assured me that the day would come when they would be sitting on the plane in a seat next to us and we would cry happy tears.  He was right.
                                            

                                            Meeting the boys for the first time: Dec. 2007

                                         

                                            Our pick up trip: April 29th, 2009
                                             4 of the kids are mine, and Wilkenson was a creche buddy

On April 30th, 2009 we cleared Immigration at Miami International Airport and saw their Haitian passports stamped with the entry date and notation of entering on an IR-3 Visa.  That was the official end of the journey for us.  Their feet were on U.S. soil and they were officially United States citizens.  They were home forever!

I'm going to knit a noose

A large percentage of my Orlando sisters knit for cathartic reasons.  I do not possess those talents, but in light of our weekend weather forecast, I now see the necessity of learning such a skill.  We are now in a BLIZZARD WARNING....YES, you read that right!  On April 30th and May 1st we are due for a winter storm.  THIS IS WRONG and I'm not going to take it anymore.  If I knew how to knit, I'd stitch together a lovely noose and wrap it around my neck. 

Does anyone have the number to Mother Nature?  I'd like to give her a piece of my mind.  I don't have a lot of brain matter to spare (after my drunken, sorority college days) but in this case, I'm willing to risk it!

The past two days have been wonderful.  70 lovely degrees, light breezes and sun!  Madison bathed her Arab, Lucki, and gave Ka Ching a scrubbing too.  In light of the impending storm and Sunday's saddle fit session at our training barn, we had to haul Ka Ching over there today in order to ensure that the horse is there for the fitting regardless of the el crappo weather.  At least I know I'll be able to get there in the Denali and this way I won't have to worry about driving on the muddy/snowy roads.  How sad to still have to worry about snow and blizzards the last day of April. 

Somebody tell Old Man Winter to take a hike and leave North Dakota alone.  Looking at this with a glass-half-full perspective, I suppose we have it better than the deep south with all those deadly tornadoes.  Sadly I know in just a matter of weeks, we'll have gone from snow to tornadoes and have that to worry about.

So where do I go to learn how to knit?

Another damn funeral

Last November, I was asked if I would join our funeral committee at church.  Pastor Paul assured me that it involved one or two funerals a year in which I would have to bring some type of dessert and help prepare the meal, serve and clean up.  No biggie I thought, I could easily handle that.  I should have known that nothing in my life ever, EVER goes as planned.

Starting in December, our church, our itty-bitty, little tiny Lutheran church has had 12 funerals as of today.  My ass is whipped.  The kids have served and partaken of so many funerals now that they think of them as some odd social gathering.  Another home schooling mom is the head of the funeral committee and we refer to ourselves as the "Thursday afternoon social club."  Sick, I know!  A funeral or two ago as the family of the dearly departed was gathering downstairs near the kitchen before the funeral, Jerome very loudly announced that "There sure are a lot of customer's here today."  See, we've all been desensitized to death. 

Death, shmeath.....it's no biggie any more to the kids.  They know that they get the pick of the desserts before the 'customers' get to and when their chores there are done, they get to play with all the new kids that have shown up for the big soiree. 

It's weird though that having the only 4 black kids for miles around, people I've never met or heard of seem to know us.  Case in point today.  I was standing with Richnigthder in the kitchen when a woman I've never seen before asked me if he (Richnightder) was one of the Laurie kids?  I told her this was one of my sons and she looked surprised.  Whatever.  I just think its weird that some old broad knew my kids, their last name and had no idea who in the hell I was. 

I suppose I shouldn't be so damn bitter about having to serve my church community again...on a rare, beautifully sunny and warm day.....but for Christ's sake, people need to stop dying because it's putting a serious crimp in my plans.  It's not like I don't give or do for my church.  Hell, I do A LOT for our church.  I was elected to church council and part of those duties require me to serve the Blood of Christ and count the haul...I mean offering...be the council rep to the educational committee, a small group leader for 2nd year confirmation, reader, greeter, altar guild and other assorted odd jobs that no one else seems to want!  All of this from a girl raised as a cradle Catholic now turned happy Lutheran.

Does anyone else who knows me find it belly-laughing funny that I get to do Eucharistic duties?  Whenever I hold those chalices with the wine and grape juice, I'm afraid it's going to sizzle and God's voice will come down from the sky and tell everyone to "Move to the other line.  The line without the foul-mouthed, formerly slutty Catholic girl holding the Blood of Christ."  All I know is that the Lutheran's either have really low standards or since everybodies dying, my qualifying skills were the ability to stand erect and fog up a mirror.  We all have talents.  Mine must be providing comic relief for God on Sunday mornings.

To haul or not to haul

While some people have jobs that require them to make urgent, life or death decisions, I, as a home educating mother to 4 must make the burdensome decision as to whether or not to haul Madison's dressage horse to her lesson today or let her use the instructors?  Oh, why do I have to be in such a position that decides my daughter's future happiness?  insert sarcasm here.......

The gravel roads are mucky here and while we drive on paved roads most of the way, approximately 5 miles are red mud that sucks the tires in and throws you around like you are driving on....oh, let's say...a huge puddle of egg whites.  Madison's future moods depend on whether or not I haul her horse, Ka Ching to the lesson today.  God only knows I don't want my sweetie pie (cough) of a 14 year old daughter to be stomping her feet and screaming because I am ruining her life by not taking her horse and making her use one of the instructors horses.  I delight in watching her ride and want to haul her humongous horse, but don't feel like putting the truck, trailer, horse and us in the ditch.

Sunday and Monday Madison will be part of a saddle fit session at our trainer's barn.  Schleese Dressage Saddles will be at Karla's and Madison and ka Ching will have an appointment to be properly sized and fitted for a new dressage saddle.  It's really a neat thing to watch the horse be measured with tools that gauge where a saddle should sit on the horses back and shoulders to allow for unrestricted movement.  Of course this cost a pretty penny, but the saddles are exquisitively made and the smell of the leather alone is enough to get me to open up my checkbook.

Then later in May she has a riding clinic to attend offered by Anne Cizaldo.  She is super excited about this.  Not excited enough to curb her delightful teenager attitude, but some sassiness I'll take since she still is more interested in this than dating!!  As long as my kid is riding a horse and throwing her passion into that, I know she's at a barn with lots of other ladies and when not there, here at our place riding.  I relish that at 14 I still know where she is and what she's doing.  I don't want her to grow up sometimes, but oh what I wouldn't do to have her lose her voice for a week!

Eloquence with words to share the potential heartache of adoption

I never intend to hurt anyone with reality checks.  Heck, I need them too and they often come from my kids.  However, the reality is, that adoption is often over-run with emotions.  They run the gamut from manic highs to depressing lows and everything in between.

When a new potential adoptive parent shares the news that they are planning on growing their family thru adoption, they are naturally wrapped up in the natural thoughts of a loving, gorgeous child who is full of loving hugs and gratitude for their new family.  Sadly, that is just a dream.  Reality is that an older child, one who is walking and talking, has experienced loss, trauma and neglect in some form.  No child added to a family should be added with the belief from the adoptive parents that the child will be grateful or appreciative.  Adoption should always be motivated by selfish thoughts of the part of the parents:  We want another child to love......regardless of whether or not the child reciprocates love.

When our little boys came home from Haiti, we very clearly told them that we loved them, but we did not expect them to love us.  What we did expect was respect and kindness.  We are lucky.  Our little boys are firmly attached and love us.  I attribute part of that success to the fact that Richnigthder's birth mom and dad told him at our goodbye meeting in Haiti, "It's ok to go with them and love them."  That was a humongously crucial piece that allowed Richnightder to close one door and walk thru the next one.  It also helped him not feel a sense of betrayal by loving us AND his birth parents.

In an idealistic world I would love to share my thoughts on adoption and not have people get defensive nor think I am over reacting and being a total butt head and raining on their parade.  Remember, we've marched in that parade and heard the words that burst our bubbles and still marched on.  For us, we escaped the dreaded life-altering effects of Rad-a-lad-a-ding-dong behavior (thanks Corey) but we had the unexpected realization that one of our kids suffered some pretty profound prenatal exposures.  We deal with it, but there are days when his issues envelop the entire family and it becomes 'his' show. 

I'm not nearly as articulate as my friends are:  Friends who I have met in the trenches of parenting children not born of our bodies.  One's whom we love but that present challenges relating to their previous lives.  My intent remains to not hurt anyone's feelings or deter them from their desires, but to share and educate real life experiences that cannot be learned from any book. 

Adopting any child involves loss and heartache.  We know Madison's birthmom suffered tremendous heartache knowing that her angel would ride home from the hospital with us and she would leave without her.  How odd for our newborn daughter to be placed in my arms at the moment of birth and be carried by me....which to her was a completely  new voice.  Did Madison suffer trauma?  No, not really.  We are blessed to have an open adoption with Angela where from the first days of life, Angela would come to our house and have a cup of coffee with me while I tried to keep my eyes open from lack of sleep.  For both of them, the transition was a little easier due to openness.  But our adoption story with Angela and Madison is not typical.  We...our entire family benefits from having Angela in it.  I only wish I could offer Thomas the same beautiful birth story that Angela and Madison share. For so many kids, trauma begins to happen well before their first breath out of the womb.

I'm linking to an Orlando Soul Sister's blog.  Her words regarding adoption are eloquent and written with truth, emotion and gut-check moments.  Here's the link...enjoy....http://waldenbunch.blogspot.com/2011/04/to-prospective-fosteradopt-parents.html

Up and at 'em at 4AM

Today began at 4AM when Madison was the first to hit the ground running.  She got up to bake the 2 dozen cinnamon rolls we had to bring to the church breakfast, took her dog, Carlos out to go potty, and then went to the barn to feed the horses.  Yep, that's my girl!!

By 6:15 we had all piled into the car to head to church.  It started at 7AM but we had to get there a few minutes early to take the cinnamon rolls to the kitchen and then stake out a good seat.  The kids grabbed a handful of candy for the drive to church and the fights began.  Just the usual fights of he's breathing too loudly, she's singing like a dying cow, that's my headphones, give 'em back.....you  know, the standard complaints.  Half way thru church Madison realized the price tag was still on her new shirt and I had to dig around the inside of the back of her shirt to yank it off.  Jerome kept loudly announcing that he smelled something yucky, which was actually the Easter breakfast cooking downstairs and Thomas noticed a very attractive girl with a far too low cut blouse on and said, "Dad, look at her!"

By 8:45 we were home and settling into chores.  I've got to get going soon on getting our Easter dinner in the oven, but had to shared that if I died today, I could go to Heaven with a smile on my face and in my heart.  Marc and I and all the kids headed out to fix some horse fencing and it just happened that Richnigthder and I ended up at one fence post together, by ourselves, waiting for Marc to come back with a part.  We sat there in the middle of the field, just the two of us and laid back on the still brown grass and watched the clouds go by.  We laughed about what each of us thought the clouds looked like and for those few minutes, my life was utterly perfect.  I was there alone with my son on a gorgeously sunny day and the only sounds to be heard were the Sandhill cranes and our laughter.  Call it an Easter blessing, but I knew for sure in my heart, I was in the right place doing what I was supposed to do with my life.  I felt completely, utterly happy and content.

I've said it before and I'll say it again.  How did I end up with these amazing kids?  2 of my kids came from far, far away and I know it took God and an angel or two to put us together.  So on this Easter, I hope you are able to find a small moment in time that reminds you of the glory this world has.  If I live to be 110 years old, I know I'll remember those few quiet moments spent with Richnightder under a sunny sky, on an Easter afternoon.

adoption realism vs. happy fantasy

I've been really, really lucky in our adoptions.  Our kids are attached, happy and discrimating in their affections.  We didn't 'hole up' when the boys came home from Haiti,, but instead tossed them into the reality of our life.  Of course we modified life a bit and Marc took 6 weeks off to stay at home while we smooshed together our new life of 4 kids and 2 parents.  Each of our adoptions, just like our kids have been vastly different, yet each with their own challenges and joys. 

What's bugging me today is that once again I have read a post on a forum I belong to, where the gal is tickled about the adoption they're beginning, but one in which she openly states that her husband has "allowed" her to proceed with the paperwork etc, even though he is still not 100% sold on the idea.  WHAT????  She further stated that they have prayed and fasted and feel their needs are covered by prayer.  Whatever!

Being the shy person I am, I took the chance to share some of my experience in the adoption realm and tried to educate her that it's not a great idea to proceed blithely along with the assumption that dear 'ol hubby will share her passion and fall in love with said new child.  To further complicate matters, they are working with their states DHS.  OMG, scary!!  The kids under DHS care are going to need some serious therapeutic parenting; one where both parents are on board. 

Once again I find myself treading that fine line between scaring the hell out of prospective parents with potential REALITIES and not bustin' their bubble of joy.  I remember with our last adoption, I hated hearing about all the problems that we could face.  But the difference is I had educated myself, prepared and gleaned every shred of knowledge I could from those who had gone before me and didn't merely rely on prayer/fasting.  Don't get me wrong.  I prayed my butt off, but God also gave me a brain that told me to prepare for any eventuality.  I also knew I might have a kid with attachment trauma, but that I would NOT be a mom who could not attach. 

How do I impress upon people who are still in the dreamy-eyed state that not everyone is cut out for adoption?  I know the forum post I replied to pissed off the prospective mom, but it scares the hell out of me for the potential new family member, that the dad is just going along with it.  I failed in this situation to impress the necessity of two parents being gung-ho about it and being so thrilled and happy that no obstacle could over whelm them. 

I have been really, really fortunate to have 4 attached, average kids.  Do I give God some of the credit, of course I do.  I also credit really, really great adoption social workers/advocates who shared the reality that 'could be'.  Life aint always a bowl of cherries.  Sometimes life is like it was here the other day......full of dog poop, stir-crazy kids and assinine comments from freaks in the store that make us roll our eyes at their stupidity.  Somebody help me get thru to this gal how important it is to be in-it-together with her husband.  I'm failing to educate and it's killing me!