Got Hail?

We had a hail storm like nothing I've seen in my life yesterday. I know to some of you, this is no big deal, but around our parts, it was a hugely fun surprise and we were all running around screaming like kids in a candy store (with money in our pockets). 

Here's M-Dog taking a dare and going out for a run in it: 

That's a pretty big hail stone, if you ask me!

It was just so beautiful coming down and seeing it cover our driveway like snow:

Seriously, the kids had so much fun. I did, too.

The chickens were out roaming when it hit, so they went for cover under our steps:

J-Man was pretty sure it was the neatest thing ever. 

Medicine to My Soul

I think J-Man may take after Superman and find solace and inspiration while in the shower. He often just stands there, not washing himself, while I wring my hands hoping the hot water doesn't run out. Last night, J-Man happened to be the first one in the shower, which meant there were four other little ones who would need hot water. After about five minutes, I went to check on him and noticed his back was the only thing wet. I reminded him to "hurry up" since everyone else still had to take showers. Five minutes later, I checked on him, and guess what? He still hadn't washed himself! I was a bit irritated, and said in a stern "mom voice," "J-Man! Hurry UP! There are FOUR OTHER PEOPLE who need to take showers!" and walked out of the bathroom. As soon as my foot got out the door, I realized I shouldn't have used that tone. I went back and forth in my mind on whether I needed to go back in and apologize. The "old" Shanti (before conscious parenting!) would have just left it at that. After all, I had already reminded him. I was justified in the way I spoke to him. But, the "new" Shanti thought, "How would I like it if somebody talked to me that way?" And I marched myself right back in there. I said, "J-Man, I'm sorry I used that tone with you. I should have asked you to hurry in a nicer way." To which he replied, "It's okay, mommy. It was my fault--I should have listened to you the first time!" And he was done with his shower in less than a minute. He came out, hugged me, and said, "Thank you for saying sorry." 

Medicine to my soul, I say. Medicine to my soul! 

Being honest with my kids, and letting them know I am working on myself has been such a blessing. I feel as though they are carrying the burden with me, and are much more likely to be on my team instead of feeling like they have to play defense. Had I not apologized, J-Man would have taken another 10 minutes to get out of the shower, we would have run out of hot water, I would have still been irritated, and he most likely would have had an "off" night. Instead, we had a moment of connection, which led to reading library books, snuggling on the couch, and baking chewy chocolate cookies together. I like Option B much better!

Stream of Consciousness...

First off, J-Man has graduated to the land of missing teeth. He lost his first one on Saturday after what seems like a year of it being loose. The tooth fairy was generous and left something she knew Josh would appreciate--a new CD. She made sure to let him know that the first lost tooth is special, and not to expect such an extravagant gift every time. I dunno...there's just something about that first tooth to me...ahem, I mean, the Tooth Fairy. Like it's a symbol of childish adulthood. Yeah, you read that right. Maybe I should coin that phrase, "childish adulthood."

Good thing she warned him that such awesome gifts aren't in his near future, since this morning, Mr. C "accidentally" kicked J-Man in the mouth (oh, did I say "accidentally"?) and knocked out his other hanging tooth.

Now, tooth #2 hangs safely in a Ziploc baggy on the cupboard...safe from little hands. Can anyone say, "25 cents?" What a let down for poor J-Man. I'm sure he'll survive.

Only 13 days until Miss G's finalization! I can't wait to share "real" pictures of her here. You won't be disappointed! She's a cutie, I tell you.

Planning for our Adoption Network Kickoff (check us out on Facebook here!) is going well so far. I've been learning a lot about the red tape involved in planning an event at a big church. If I would have known ahead of time, I probably would have picked a different venue; but I'm actually glad I've been able to see what goes into putting on such an event.

These past few weeks, I've finished reading "The Hole in Our Gospel" (highly recommended), and "Three Cups of Tea." I enjoyed the latter, but it was a bit long-winded for my taste. Right now I'm reading, "The Well-Trained Mind," and I can't say enough good things about this book So many moms (homeschooling and non-homeschooling) have recommended it to me, and I finally forced myself to get it. Soooo worth it.

I find myself reading tidbits of homeschooling books all day, and then at night settling in for some more. I fall asleep thinking "education," and dream about teaching our kids. It seems to have taken over my mind {temporarily}? Each kid has such a different way of learning, and figuring out how to meet each of his needs while not burning myself out has been, well, insightful. I am thoroughly enjoying teaching them, though. I truly feel like I am experiencing life with them, in a way I never felt when they were in school all day. It's exciting to see them progress, and knowing that I had some {small} part in that is wonderful.

13 days! 13 days! 13 days!

"I'm Fasting"

Another story about J-Man. It's not on purpose; he's just been providing me with some good material lately.

J-Man hates Cream of Rice. And oatmeal. I don't really blame him since I would rather eat tree bark than either of those. (By the way, none of the kids love Cream of Rice, but they tolerate it.) However, we have a rule in our house: What's served is what's eaten. These kids are spoiled, anyway. I lace their Cream of Rice with ribbons of sugar. It's not like they have to eat it plain. Well, unless they're not behaving. Then they get it au natural. And they only have to eat it like once or twice a week.

Anyhoo, this morning was a Cream of Rice day. I made freshly-ground rice with our grinder. They should appreciate that! None of that store-bought junk. Home spun!

J-Man had some complaints about my choice of breakfast. I told him I'd be sure to give him an extra helping. When the grub was ready for consumption, I called the kids in. They all came bounding in. Except for J-Man, that is. He sulked on the floor of the family room, trying to hide under the coffee table. I called him again. No movement. I called him a third time, and I saw a bit of writhing, like he was in agony over what he was about to ingest. But, he still didn't budge.

I told him he could go get the Chum Bucket (have I told you about the Chum Bucket? It's a "bucket" with consequences like "wipe down the bathroom," "clean the family room," "pick up 3 buckets of leaves," "pay mommy a dollar," etc. Anytime they are misbehaving, they go straight to the Chum Bucket--an excellent idea my sister shared with me).

Well, he got his Chum Bucket (which happened to be no t.v. for the day), and did his 1/2 hour room time (which they get each time they get a consequence). I figured he would be starving once he got out since this is the kid who out-eats both Superman and I at every meal. I told him he would be eating his Cream of Rice when he was hungry.

But, here we are, and it's almost 5 hours later. He just told me he's "fasting." The only reason he isn't eating is because he's "going to spend time praying and reading [his] Bible." It has nothing to do with the fact that Cream of Rice makes him want to vomit.* I told him that's wonderful and to let me know when he's ready to break his "fast." His Cream of Rice is patiently waiting on the counter.

*I'm sure I sound cruel here, but we always tell our kids that sometimes we have to eat things we don't like. What are they going to do when we take them out of the country on mission trips? We want them to be used to occasionally eating things that don't appeal to them so that when they're presented with something they find repulsive {to them}, they realize it's disrespectful to turn their noses up.

I Wanna Go By My Middle Name

We've pretty much stuck with the tradition of using the kids' given birth names as their middle names. With J-Man, there weren't a lot of options since his birth mom didn't give him a middle name. So, it seemed natural to just make his first name his middle name. Have I used the word "name" enough in this paragraph? Did that even make any sense?

I don't care for J-Man's middle name. It's kind of funky, and people often giggle when they hear what it is. I just really didn't want to get rid of it since it is the only tangible tie he has to his birth mom.

The other day, as we were tucking him in for bed, J-Man matter-of-factly stated that he no longer wanted to be called "J-Man {insert his actual name}, but he wanted to be called by his middle name because it is "cooler." It's been interesting the last few months. He seems to be going through a phase. We asked him the other day why he was adopted. He said, "because I'm black." That sparked a whole long conversation...when we asked him what it means to be adopted, he said, "you're black."

Ok, now keep in consideration we have never told him that. We've never said anything that I can think of that would even make him think that. But, for some reason, he did. We talked all about adoption (which we've already done...often), about the fact that people of all races are adopted. I think by the end he realized that it didn't have anything to do with his skin color. I think.

After he told me he wanted to go by his middle name, I thought for a few minutes, and then I said, "J-Man, I love you a lot. Did you know that daddy and I prayed about what to name you?" He nodded. "Daddy and I picked your name because we know you are going to be a strong, Godly man, and a leader. And the man in the Bible who we named you after was just that. I can understand why you would want to go by your middle name. And if you want to introduce yourself as that name, that's totally fine with me. But to me, you're always going to be J-Man {insert actual name again}."

I stood there for a second, (he's on a top bunk so I couldn't really sit on the side of his bed) wondering if I said the right thing. After a few seconds, he said, "OK!"

And, that was it. I got a big hug and a kiss, and he was happy as a clam. He hasn't brought it up again, but I'm sure it'll surface again at some point.

Super Bowl Fun

We're really not football enthusiasts. We keep waiting for a team that we have a connection to so we can root for them. So far, there really hasn't been one. We don't have any football teams in our town, and we don't know anyone through six degrees of separation who plays for a pro team. But Superman read that the coach of the Colts was pro-life, so we decided to go ahead and root for them.

We have a Super Bowl party every year with the kids even though we don't watch football at any other time. Superman thinks it's important to make sure the kids know how to "yell at the t.v." and "pretend like we're really into it" while guzzling down root beer and stuffing our faces with chips and dip.

Yesterday was fun. The kids made it through the first half pretty well. Then they took all the balloons I had blown up out to the backyard and popped them all. Apparently that was more fun than watching a bunch of guys ram into each other.

Here's N admiring her "beer":

And M-Dog:

Mr. C:

J-Man (isn't this the cutest picture? I can just see the grown man in him oozing out...):

Showing his incredible muscles:

Daddy cuddling with M-Dog and N...can you see how blue Superman's eyes are??






We're men!

Mohawks

These boys love crazy hairstyles. I let them have Mohawks last summer, but when they were in school, I only let them have simple, non-attention-grabbing buzz cuts. I figured their teachers wouldn't appreciate the distraction that the crazy hair would bring.

So, it's not surprising that one of the first things they wanted to do when we started homeschooling was to get Mohawks. And I figured, why not? I mean, they only live once. It's just hair. It'll grow back. Plus, I think they look pretty darn cute.

Bad Choices

It sure would be nice to be able to drop my kids off places without having to worry about what they might do wrong.

We have one child in particular, who, when out of our sight for more than a couple minutes chooses to make poor decisions. I've wondered before if us being strict at home makes him feel like when he gets away, he can breathe. Maybe he feels like he does his best at home and then when he doesn't see us around, he can act how he truly feels.

Today I went to Bible study. Because our two oldest aren't yet signed up for class there, Nana was kind enough to watch them. I figured that since it was just the two of them, it would be pretty easy for her.

When I picked them up, I asked how they did. Nana was nice and said that they did "fine!" But Mr. C made sure to announce (repeatedly) that J-Man wasn't "good." Nana kept saying that no, J-Man did just "fine." She mentioned that she told the boys she would pay them a dollar to rake up some leaves outside. Now, J-Man is not a self-motivated child. At least when it comes to any kind of work. The second he feels like something is a "chore," he wiggles and complains and mopes about it. So I guess Nana had to be on him a bit to keep on task. She specifically asked them not to rake the leaves into the pool, but of course that was like a challenge to him. So he took a leaf, held it over the pool, and said, "Oooh, look what I'm gonna do!" and proceeded to drop the leaf in the pool.

It's mostly just things like that. It's not like he's doing awful morally-wrong things. He's just being immature. And obnoxious. And not a joy to be around. Sigh. I know some of you mothers can sympathize with me; especially you fost-adopt moms.

I'm thankful that I'm homeschooling now so I can maybe get a better idea of what sets J-Man off this way. And maybe be able to discover ways to help him channel those negative choices into something better.

So for those of you with child(ren) like this, what advice to you have? What works? I feel like we've tried many things, but often feel like this child is just dying to make bad choices! He has no forethought of consequences. He knows as soon as he does something wrong that he's gonna be in trouble, but doesn't think about that beforehand. So I wonder--is it immaturity? Or something else?

How Adoption Changed My Views--Part 2

When we had Mr. C, he was perfect. Or at least, perfect in our sight. He was a typical first child...smart, early walker, constantly stimulated. We had nothing else to do but shower our boy with love and attention, read to him constantly, do puzzles with him, and help him grow his brain. Being that Superman is a teacher, he had half the year off to spend with our firstborn. I think we crammed more stimulation into that first year than in all the ensuing years combined.

Right before Mr. C turned one year old, J-Man was placed with us. Suddenly, spending unending amounts of time interacting with Mr. C became close to impossible. And I felt pretty guilty for it.

I realized when we got J-Man that he didn't get that same running start that Mr. C did. He had already been in 3 foster homes in his near-six months of life. He had been hospitalized for pneumonia and RSV and had never had anyone sit down and read to him or wrestle with him. And there was an obvious difference between where he was developmentally at 6 months, and where Mr. C had been at 6 months.

And when M-Dog and N came to us, it was even more apparent. They had been removed from their birth parents when M-Dog was 2 years, and N was 5 weeks. They went on to three foster homes before the Lord planted us on their front step. And as I've said before, M-Dog was three by that time. And he didn't speak. So much vital time had passed, and those so-important first few years were thrown by the wayside, never to be had again. N was 13 months when we got her, and was still crawling, only saying "mama" and just behind in general.

Thankfully, we got G at six weeks. She was still young, and had only been in one foster home, so her transition to our home was simple.

So this is what I've learned:

1. It's nearly impossible (or maybe even impossible) to give all our children the same level of undivided attention that our firstborn received.

2. Children adopted out of foster care almost always come with baggage. But, the baggage is so worth carrying. Because seeing your child blossom from the child he or she was into the child he or she is becoming is one of the most rewarding experiences. Ever.

3. I can't expect the same responses and growth out of each of our children. Of course, this would apply if we only had biological children as well, but I believe it's more pronounced in adopted children. These kids each have their own story, their own challenges, their own pains, and their own triumphs. Their pasts have shaped who they are, and I have to flexibly work around those nuances and parent them individually instead of as a group.

It's hard to admit, but there have been times (usually the challenging times), when I have thought to myself, "Man, it would have been so much easier to just have our own biological kids." I know that sounds really bad. I know that every child is unique, and who knows what future children of ours would have turned out like. But, at least I would know where they come from, you know? At least I would know that they were provided for, loved, and given the best I could give them. I won't lie, it's hard to be an adoptive parent. But as I've said before, it's also one of the most amazing adventures.

And it's a perfect illustration of the way our Lord "adopts" us, despite our histories. Despite our shortcomings and failures, He loves us perfectly. And I am so confident that when He sees us blossom, it makes Him giddy with excitement.

Happy Birthday to J-Man!

Yesterday our second-born turned six. SIX! I always feel like it takes forever for him to turn each age. I guess that's because he and Mr. C are only 6 months apart, so I feel like he should already be the same age as Mr. C. Did that make any sense?

Anyhoo, I made a yummy batch of homemade cinnamon rolls for breakfast. We told J-Man he gets $100 for his birthday, and can use that for a party, going out to eat, a present, or whatever else he wanted. But, he had to stay in the budget. He chose a present. J-Man has been asking for a skateboard ramp for a few years now, and he decided now was the time.

So while he was at school, I went gallivanting around town trying to track down a ramp. Who knew it would be so difficult? I finally found one at Sport Chalet.

For dinner, I made J-Man's favorite, homemade pizza. But alas, dinner came, and J-Man sat down to eat, but just stared at his food. This from the boy who the day before ate a double-double (animal style), french fries and a chocolate shake and came home and asked for a snack. So, we knew something was wrong. I asked if he was feeling all right, and he said he had a sore throat. My poor little pizza sat uneaten on his plate, and our fun plans for NuYo were postponed. But, that's ok. It was kind of nice to just relax on the couch.

So, we'll have to do NuYo another night.

But, happy birthday to our boy!

Birthday Party for Jesus

I know I said earlier that I probably wouldn't be on until after Christmas, but I have a few quiet moments right now, and I wanted to share our birthday party for Jesus. It was wonderful.

I made a chocolate cake. Already a good start to a party.


We lit a candle. One, for His first birth...so important, the first of many important days of our Savior.

We left a chair empty at the head of the table for Him.

We sang happy birthday.

We each prayed and thanked Jesus for something He has given us. Here's what the kids said:

N: Jesus, thank you Jesus. Jesus, thank you Jesus. Amen.

M-Dog: Dear God, thank you for my spark scooter. {Insert commentary: M hasn't received a spark scooter. It's just what he asked Santa for. So we stopped and explained to the kids the types of things they might be thankful for--family, friends, church, adoption, etc.} His revised prayer: Dear God, thank you for something, Amen.

J-Man: Dear Lord, thank you for our house. In Jesus' name, amen.

Mr. C: Dear Lord, thank you for my DS (as in Nintendo DS). In Jesus' name, amen.

Hmmm...not quite as deep and meaningful as I expected.

No worries. We enjoyed our cake. We shared a moment. And I, as a mommy, enjoyed a memory with my kids, even if they won't remember it.

So, friends, who is at the head of your table?

On Birthparents...

When J-Man came to us, his parental rights terminated about 2 weeks later. Being new adoptive parents, we had no idea how the process works, what to expect, etc. Our social worker told us the mom had 60 days to appeal, but that she most likely wouldn't. And, she didn't. Thankfully.

We did discover, however, while perusing the documents detailing J-Man's life, the names of both birth parents. This got us thinking. Wouldn't it be great if we could have some photos of them? I mean, I'm not adopted, but I often long to know more about my dad's history since he passed away in 2000. I know he carried with him stories from abroad, where he grew up in India. I wished he had shared his language and his culture with us more. I can only imagine how those feelings would be magnified if I had never met my birth parents and didn't know who I looked like. I would imagine there would be a hole somewhere in me...longing to know who I came from, where I came from, whose nose I had, whose eyes I had.

So, with that, we decided to hire a private investigator to track down J-Man's birth parents and get some photos for us.

It took a few months, but in the end, we ended up with one photo of birth mom and a silent video of birth dad. Along with that came a good supply of info on both parents. We have those items locked up in a safe that's only for J-Man's eyes. No one else in our family has ever seen it, not even our other kids. When he's ready to share it with people, he is welcome to do it. Occasionally, we open up that safe, show J-Man who is birth parents were and remind him just how much we love him. We remind him that God put him in our lives, that we CHOSE him because he was the perfect boy for our family and that any time he has questions about where he came from, he can ask.

I'm so happy we made the decision to get those photos. We hope to update that file in a few years just so we can keep tabs on them; that way if J-Man decides when he's grown that he wants to find his birth parents, he won't have to trudge through 20 years of mystery to find them.

M-Dog, N and G were all such a different story--since we did visits with birth mom for awhile, I just asked (through the social worker) for her to bring photos and a letter to each of the kids at their last meeting. She obliged, so they each have something from her. We also set up an e-mail account so both the birth parents could send messages at any time to the kids.

I'm curious to see whether our kids will have a desire to find their birth parents later in life. As much as I want to hold on to them as "my own," I know that it's not my right to hold them back from something so important should they decide they need to discover their histories.

What are your feelings on this?

Comments

I've had a number of interesting comments and inquiries from people over the years. Now, I generally don't get offended by people's remarks. I think they are usually completely innocent and come from genuine curiosity. It would just be nice if people could naturally know that some of these questions should be asked in private, not right in front of our kids...we have made a commitment that we don't talk about the kids' histories with anyone, including family. Their stories are their stories to tell, so the dirty details remain between us and them. And usually, that's what I tell people when they ask about specifics of the kids' pasts.

When walking around with the boys at this age:

"Awww! Are they twins?" (Um, I know they look a lot alike, but....)

"Are they quadruplets??" (Seriously!)

"Why don't you just have your own kids?"

or, in another instance, sympathetically said, "Oh, you couldn't get pregnant?"

"He (referring to J-Man) would be better off in foster care than in a white family" Yup.

"How many more kids are you going to take?!"

"Why doesn't someone just sterilize those kids' mom??" (I can understand this question given birth mom's history, but still--not a great question to ask in front of the kids!)

"He's probably acting that way because of his past."

"Is he/she a drug baby?" or, "Was he a crack baby?" or, "Was his mom on crack?" or, "Did their mom do drugs and alcohol?"

"Why did the kids get taken away?" (which, by the way, I think is a valid question, I just don't really want to share that with people.)

"There can be a lot of problems that manifest themselves when he gets older."

"There's nothing you can do--genetics play too big a role."

I really am ok with inquiring minds. As a matter of fact, before we adopted, I was probably a lot more likely to ask some of these questions to people. I enjoy talking about adoption and our kids. But I don't enjoy people assuming things about our kids just because they've come from foster care.

So, for those of you out there who have adopted, what has been one (or more) of the most outlandish questions you've received?

Everyone else, what do you think?

And Now For J-Man...

This picture pretty much sums up J-Man.

He's my feisty,
outgoing,
loving boy.

He loves to be hugged, kissed, and thoroughly enjoys seeing his daddy and I give each other a big smooch in the mornings.

J-Man has an affectionate heart. He thrives on encouragement, but is easily dismayed by the thought of failure. If something seems too difficult for him (in his own eyes), it's often not worth trying for.

I frequently forget that the first 6 months of his life were bumpy and disrupted. I can imagine that living in 3 homes by the time he came to us has a lasting affect. And although I like to think that he has no long-term ramifications, I think it's necessary to give him a bit more wiggle room at times.

J-Man loves to cook...and truly delights in eating! He has a knack for music and was given a Gift by our Creator that I hope we can nurture as he grows. I am filled with joy each week when he begs to come into "big church" so he can hear the band play. It's not very often that kids plead to go to church!

He is a natural communicator, a friend to many, and a rambunctious little lad. We are so blessed to have this boy in our lives.

So, off subject a bit, what is a characteristic that you have discovered in your child that you were surprised by?

Black and White

I'm gonna jump back and forth in time on this blog. Things come up and I gotta write 'em down when they do, or I'll forget...

I'm a pretty sarcastic person. I usually don't let things bother me unless they're actually worth being bothered about. I must admit that I do hope our kids inherit a bit of that...being able to let things roll off their backs instead of getting hung up on other people's opinions.

J-Man came home from school on Monday and informed me he was being made fun of in kindergarten. Now, you have to understand: Out of all our sweet crumbsnatchers, he would be one of the last ones I would think would get mocked by other youngsters. He's just a cool kid.

He likes skateboarding. He has no fear. He's social. He's fun. As a matter of fact, he cares more about having fun than learning.

But, J-Man told me one kid in particular was calling him "bald." True, true. He's pretty much bald. But this is by choice. My little man is, afterall, black. We live in Whiteville. We considered this when we moved here, but didn't expect something like this to come up in Kindergarten. However, it has, and we must face these matters head on (pun intended).

Superman suggested J-Man respond with some uplifting remarks about this child's mother...such as, "Yeah? Well, you're MOMMA'S more bald than me!" or such kind words. J-Man said he just laughed when the kid mocked him. I told him that was probably a good way to approach it...no reason to be upset about it. I mentioned that this little boy has probably not had many {if any} black friends before, and that it was up to J to show him how lucky he is to have him in his class. J is, afterall, cool.

I let my sweet boy know he can always talk to me about how he's feeling and to let me know if things get any worse. I also ensured him that he can grow his hair out as much as he likes and that I think he's a Super Duper Manly Man and that he's my most favoritest 5 year old in the entire world. So what about you? How would you approach someone calling your little boy "baldy?"