I Really Like My Kids

I don’t just love my kids.  I like them.  I homeschooled for the obvious reasons everyone does; better education, control over what they are learning, etc.  But most of all, I just like being with my kids.  Let's face it, I think my kids are just more fun than other people's kids.  I've been told our family could totally pull off a reality show.  Maybe...probably.    

So when I send my youngest three to school for the first time after 13 years of educating at home, forgive me if I'm a bit emotional.  I apologize to the bewildered moms who saw me tearing up (assuming I should be a veteran at this by now) as I watched my 6th graders go off to their classes for the first time.   I did, however, smile big when I saw the cutest little brown girl in my 3rd grader's class.  

Children all over the world do this every single day.  I know.  However, indulge me for a moment while I sit in the awkward quietness of my house, not really sure what to do with myself as I miss the ever present hustle and bustle that accompanies my kiddos. 

Absolutely, we should spend half the summer fixing up a
bike that is entirely too small so we can ride it.

...so his mom can ride it down a one-mile hill!

I told him to get the rackets so we could play tennis.

Let's make a chain, because nobody ever gets hurt doing that.

,

Absolutely...you must wear goggles when riding down our dangerous street!

I really do like them!!

Mother's Day - A Mixed Bag

I have mixed feelings about Mother's Day.

I scroll through Facebook and see the perfect pictures of homemade cards, breakfasts made, flowers, etc. It's nice, ideal...how it should be.  Then, as I scroll through a group's page that I'm in - a group of moms who are parenting children from hard places through some pretty tough stuff, I'm painfully reminded of this fallen world we live in.  Their posts consist of broken flower pots, children who live to sabotage every special occasion with their tantrums, a mom breaking down in tears in the middle of a restaurant, moms who have incurred bite marks and bruises from the very children they work so hard to love.  Mother's Day is beyond hard for some.

Infertility.
Abandonment.
Children lost.
Mothers lost.

For a million other reasons.

As an adoptive mom, Mother's Day is different for me than it used to be. I spent several Mother's Days hurting that two of my children weren't yet a part of us.  I have spent subsequent Mother's Days considering the questions, thoughts and feelings of two of my children regarding moms they have lost, reminding myself not to take their rejection of me personally.  I hurt for their birth mothers who have experienced a great loss as well.  It's all just a whole lot more complicated than it used to be.

Then, I remember.  For 18 years, there is not a single thing about being a mom that has ever been about me.

The first time I was referred to as "Aubrey's mom" in lieu of my real name, I realized my identity had completely been altered forever.  Even Mother's Day has never really been about me.  The kids don't magically start picking their clothes up off the floor, they don't just morph into compliant, non argumentative humans (as my oldest son reminded me yesterday.)  Not even for this one day.  Big picture...they don't exist to better my life, I exist to better theirs. no matter how difficult.  Although there is not a more thankless, selfless and painful job than being a mother, it's a job I am blessed to have.  Despite the fact that even this one day sometimes isn't always all it should be, I am reminded that they are worth every sacrifice and heartache. Six times over.

Highlights from this year's Mother's Day:

1.  My oldest daughter posting her gratefulness for me to the Facebook world. It doesn't get better than this.

2.  My youngest daughter spending her hard earned money to buy her brother new shin guards for his birthday...and an awesome shirt for me declaring my ultimate awesomeness as a mom.

3.  The following conversation with my second born son about to enter high school next year:
Me:  "How would you feel if I started substitute teaching at your school next year?"
Him:   "That would be awesome!  Then I could come and hug you anytime I want!"

4.  Dinner with some of my favorite and most inspiring moms on the planet.  Thank you, ladies!

5.  A very special homemade card from my Sam that left me in tears for a good while.  We've both worked really hard to get here:

Learning What Should Come Natural

We are a close knit family. My kids, even my teens WANT to be with me...all the time.  I can barely sit down on the couch without at least one of my six children, the dog, and the cat instantly glued to my side.  As I write this, my 18 year old lays on my bed next to me, weary from a long day.  Of course, she has her own bed, but there's something warm, safe, and extra comfortable about our bed.  At least that's what they all tell me.  On the occasion I am still in bed in the morning when my kids get up, I almost always wake up to a soft, sweet, 11 year old girl lying next to me.

My Sam has observed this natural intimacy in our family for a long time.  And he is at a point where he desperately wants to be a part of it. He doesn't quite know how, it's uncomfortable.  It isn't natural for him at all...the vulnerability that comes with intimacy.  He knows what the dance steps look like, he witnesses it every day, however dancing himself just doesn't feel natural to him.  Trusting another person, a person who is in charge of you with your affection is scary when those responsible for your care in the past have not proven themselves trustworthy.

Gracie with me in the morning.

Then it happened...I woke up to a courageous, squiggling little brown boy next to me.  There he was, just as uncomfortable as he could be.  WORKING at this intimacy that comes with being a part of our family.  I wanted to cry.  Instead, we discussed his recent achievement of 50 juggles with a soccer ball.

Something not often voiced in adoption circles is that it's just plain awkward at times.  Awkward for him, and awkward for me, for all of us.  I could write a book on forced, awkward hugs.   For many adoptive families, the natural intimacy they feel with their biological children isn't automatically there with their adoptive children.  For many of us who adopt older children, those deep feelings of affection takes work and time.  The moment my biological children were born, an instant, inseparable bond was there.  Bring on the train for me to jump in front of to save their lives! This close affection has had to be built over the last five years with my adopted boys.  Do I love them less?  Absolutely not!  I would have jumped in front of train for them long before they were legally mine...(many times during the two and a half year adoptive process I felt as if I was already doing so.)  But the natural close, affection didn't come for awhile.  It has taken time, work and effort on all of our parts.

He is working so hard!  My Sam!  I am so proud of him.  Working through this is part of his journey, he's not content to live in his pain.  He's willing to be uncomfortable.  He's willing to figure it out.   He is a thinker...about absolutely everything!  And his inability to be physically close to all of us has been bugging him for a long time.  We've discussed it.  This boy and I have been on a 3 year journey together laboring through the root of his pain, insecurity, and his difficulty in finding love and he has come so far.  As much as an almost 12-year old brain can comprehend, he understands he was abandoned, there is deep pain behind it, and he will spend a great deal of his life continuing his journey overcoming the issues caused therein. And he is willing to do it.

The other morning, all 3 of my youngest ended up in bed with me.  I had a busy day ahead, but I recognize these moments are rare, so we spent the morning together in my soft, warm, safe bed.  We read, giggled, and watched funny youtube videos together on my phone.  Two little boys who were practically strangers to me five years ago, spent the morning with me in a way that my other four children have done since birth.  A great deal was accomplished that morning!

How Can I Help?

I am so grateful for the response from my last post.  I am most grateful that so many came out and sincerely asked, "Okay...so what CAN I do to be helpful to these families?"  I was touched by the many people who want to truly help in the right way so as not to inadvertently and unknowingly create more damage.

 Here are some practical ideas for you to truly help a family dealing with traumatized children.

1.  Trust mom (and dad) to know what is best.  Even when she seems like an irrational psycho, just trust that she really does love her children and wants what is best for them and her family.  Don't judge her when she asks you not to hug her child, or get her children their food, or when she takes her kid out for ice cream instead of disciplining them for poor behavior, or she seems to be irrationally nagging her child about behavior that may seem normal to you.  Please ask why with a heart to understand.  And be ready to sit for awhile, because the explanations are not brief or simple.

2.  Some parents like offers to bring meals or clean the house.  A close friend once wisely said to me, "The best way to help people is simply do what they ask."   I am one who feels that feeding my family and cleaning my house is a regular part of living my life (even with the added challenge of my trauma kids) and I need to figure that out on my own.  Other families very much appreciate not having to think about dinner once in awhile amidst a crazy day of meltdowns, arguing, and emotional stress.  Just do what they ask.

3.  Pray for them and let them know you are praying for them.  It does my heart good knowing that others are entering the throne room of God to ask Him to assist me in this battle.

4.  Listen!  If a mom wants to explain a part of this struggle to you, please take a moment to truly listen and learn.  She doesn't have a lot of spare time on her hands and is most likely telling you because she trusts you with intimate information about her family and she wants you to know.  Or...maybe she just needs to vent.  Don't expect to understand fully what she is going through.  It's okay that you don't understand.  You really can't unless you have lived it so she doesn't expect you to.  But having someone to listen and be aware of what is going on and why is priceless.

5.  Don't ask adopted children or their parents about the birth family.  "What happened to his parents?"  "Why were they left at the orphanage?"  I understand these questions come from a heart of curiosity and there is no malintent involved.   However, you are asking very deep and personal questions about what has wrecked the heart of my children.  Children oftentimes don't understand what happened themselves and will give you very wrong information.  They often fantasize or make up stories about their history.  Their story is theirs to share when they are of age to process it correctly and share with those whom they trust.

6.  Acknowledge the struggle.  Recognize that their situation is unique in many ways.  Ask how mom is doing...not how "things" are going.  There is a big difference in those two questions.

7.  If you are really motivated, do some reading.  One of many books I would recommend that have been extremely helpful is:
      The Connected Child:  Bring Hope and Healing to Your Adoptive Family by Karyn Purvis 
     
     If you aren't up for a book, a visit to this website and watching a few short videos would be very      helpful as well.  These are the resources many of us are using and are familiar with.


Whatever you do...DON'T SHUT THEM OUT!  Sometimes these moms are difficult to maintain a relationship with.  Please try.   A big thank you to all who care enough to take time to support, love and go the extra mile to understand families working through these struggles every day.  You are a critical piece to ministering to orphans and widows (James 1:27.)