Happy Family Day!

Six years ago today we met you,  our amazing oldest son. In a glaringly modern room full of black and red patterned furniture and overstuffed pillows you toddled in, over an hour late. Just like so many other times in those first 15 months of your life you had an obstacle to overcome that day. A flat tire on the bus bringing you to us. Not your first obstacle, and certainly not your last.

As we wandered around Shamian Island in Guangzhou with you strapped to my hip we were stopped countless times by interested locals, often overstepping our "American" boundaries of personal space. "A boy! You are lucky!". Yes, yes we were lucky, and we still are.

Once back on American soil that lucky sentiment became somewhat mangled. "He is SO lucky!", we heard all the time. No, he's healthy. He's loved. He's happy, we think. If you must assign luck, assign it to us, please. Americans, always thinking that our way is the best way.

Now that you are a strapping and active seven year old, we don't hear those lucky sentiments very often anymore. And, thankfully, we don't hear the invasive adoption questions much anymore either. We do hear questions about your relationship to your brother, but that is a story for another day.

Until your little brother joined our family we really didn't fully understand the loss of adoption. We do now. You have lost so much. You are starting to ask questions, questions that we can only speculate the answers to. Questions that probably will never be answered, not to your satisfaction, at least.

Did my birth mother love me like you do?

Where was I was found?

Why? Why? Why?

You are seven and just beginning to question. As you get older I know you will have more questions. Sadly, I won't have any more answers. So bear with me, sweetheart.

And in the meantime, I will love you, support you, give you every opportunity I can. And in return, you will continue to give me so much.

Your tight hugs. Your bright crooked smiles. Your wild dreams and engineering mind. Your thirst for knowledge. Your entrepreneural attitude. You have one foot in the world of big kids, with your football and your desire to go off and explore the world. And one foot still in your early childhood, with 15 stuffed animals on your bed and your fright of loud noises.

You are just the best big brother, getting your little sibling to listen, play, calm down. The patience you show with him is astounding. You are a teacher. A leader. A role model. I can't wait to see where this crazy life of ours takes us!

Six years ago I sat on a very hard brightly colored sofa, waiting for you to arrive. My Guangzhou delivery room. You were late to arrive, as so many babies are. You took my finger and held on tight. And I pray that you never let it go.

Happy Family Day to my super six year old!

meeting Daddy for the first time- June 2008

 

You were late to meet us, your new parents, because the orphanage van had a flat tire and was stuck on the side of the road for a while. Then you finally arrived! You were holding that little yellow truck- even back them you loved things with wheels! That has not changed. Your nanny gave me gifts- an orange juicer, because "babies like juice". A map of Dongguan City. A little photo book of you- with every picture taken on the same day. Probably the day before we met you.

 

We walked circles around Shamian Island. You, either in the stroller the Victory Hotel provided or snuggled against my body in the baby carrier. We drank ice tea at Starbucks. We dropped laundry off at the Ladybug and ate scrambled eggs at Lucy's. We walked and walked the waiting hours away. We watched the water and the boats and were reprimanded for letting our wet umbrella drip on the floor of the hotel lobby. It rained nearly every day, and it was so hot that sometimes we would just lay on the floor of our air conditioned hotel room, until boredom set in and we set out for the steamy sidewalks once again.

 

We changed diapers on the floors of airports and we pushed you, screaming in your stroller, through airport gate after airport gate. We left a trail of puffs on every plane and walked miles up and down the narrow airplane paths, rocking you as we walked. We made bottles in hotels, on planes, in airports and restaurants.

We were so happy to arrive at the Hong Kong airport after many delays. We replenished our empty stock of formula and ate Burger King that tasted like the Burger King we were used to. We drank drinks with ice and worked hard to keep you safe in a modern hotel room full of sharp angles and points.

 

I rode home from the Columbus airport in the backseat, holding your little screaming body down into your car seat- being strapped in for the first time did not sit well with you! We held, we rocked, we fed, we loved. We got to know each other.

 

Five years ago today you became ours and we became yours. I am blessed to be called mommy by you!

 

 



 

 



Happy Family Day- I Can Always Feel the Joy

Happy Family Day little Alexander Artur!

holding my new son for the first time- 21 months old

 

Two years ago today my sweet husband and I stood in a Russian courtroom, surrounded by Russian officials, a Russian Social Worker, a Russian Judge, and our interpreter. We had been told ahead of time that in a Russian court it was customary for the man to do the speaking; I was to keep quiet unless I was directly asked a question. This worried my sweet husband, seeing as I am the talker in the family. But I wasn't worried. When it comes to protecting and standing up for our little family my husband is always spot on and well spoken.

I cannot remember how he answered the questions posed to him but I do remember that just a few questions in our interpreter, Anna, suggested that perhaps "Mrs. Wilkison would like to speak.", suggesting that the judge needed more information. And speak I did.

I told the judge that I loved this tiny little boy. That he had held a special place in my heart since that moment when I first saw him toddling down the long hallway in the orphanage some three months before. I explained that we understood adoption, that we had adopted before, that this little guy had an older brother waiting for him at home. What I didn't say, what I had been instructed not to say was that this tiny almost 2 year old brought me joy. It had been explained to us by our Russian adoption facilitator that there is no Russian translation for the word "Joy". This word would not translate in a way the Russian judge and lawyer would understand. And that gave me a great insight into the country of my youngest son's birth.

So maybe I didn't speak that day about the joy in my heart. But that doesn't mean it wasn't there. And it is still here today.  Two years home already! And he has brought so much joy to me. So much joy. It seems as though sometimes we focus on the struggles. We only see the chaos. We do not take the time to celebrate the successes. We miss the joy. But not today. Today I am thinking only about the joy.

I remember looking down at you, snuggled on my hip in your baby carrier, as we stood on the curb outside the Incheon Airport in Korea, waiting for the hotel bus to pick us up. I remember thinking how surreal that was, me, wearing a baby, dragging a suitcase, alone on a curb in South Korea. I remember surreal, but also remember  joy.

finally coming home- waiting for our plane in South Korea- 24 months old

I remember watching your little body asleep on the floor of the Continental Club at LAX, my body tired as well but unable to sleep. I watched you, thankful you had fallen asleep and I could relax and let my arms, tired from holding you, and my back, weary from wearing you, have a rest. I remember tired, but I also remember joy.

I remember walking off the plane, finally back home, and seeing my oldest son, just four years old, leaping about, trying to climb into my arms. I sat down on a bench, with my husband on my left and my four year old on my right, climbing into my lap, totally squishing his new little brother who was still in the baby carrier strapped to my body. I remember looking down at my new son, clueless to what was going on but not seeming bothered. I felt my husband touching my shoulder as he re-acquainted himself with his new son, who he hadn't seen for two weeks. I re-acquainted myself with my oldest son, who I hadn't seen for four weeks. I remember the joy as I felt the warmth of my growing family around me.

I remember my four year old playing on the floor with his new little brother in those first few days home. Brothers! So much joy.

There have been missteps these past two years. There has been pain and sorrow and longing and not as much peace as I would have liked. But there has also been a new special needs preschool that is helping us figure out how to help our little guy cope and learn. There has been an amazing day care teacher who has worked with us to guide our son. There has been Sunday school teachers and other adults at our church who have stepped up. There have been close friends cheering for me, telling us we are doing OK. There have been in-laws who babysit and give us time to ourselves, and who are making an effort to learn more about early life trauma so they can help even more. There has been so much joy, and this is what we celebrate today, on our son's second Family Day.

brothers, two months home

two months home, checking out a petting zoo

 

We celebrate this path that has made it very clear to me that I need to step up and add my voice to those screaming for adoption reform. We celebrate the broken road my youngest took to get to us because it showed to us what true suffering is. I have seen unexplainable things and I know what life lies ahead for those orphans left behind. And while this is terribly sad and it may be too late for some of them, still I find joy in having found my passion, so to speak. And I will do good with that passion. I will make changes, however small.

We celebrate this path that has taught me how to be a more patient and kind person. We celebrate this path that has made me an advocate for special needs and has taught me how to stand up for my children. We celebrate this path that has shown to me what compassion truly is, and also has shown me that perhaps I could have stood by my friends a little more strongly when they had young children and struggles of their own.

We celebrate every smiley face on the behavior chart from daycare. Every check mark on his chart at home. Every book that he lets me read without wandering away. Every hug that he returns. Every meal that he eats without melting down.

my rock star, two years later!

I feel joy when my son sings with me and when I see him using his imagination to play with his older brother. I feel joy when he tells me he loves me or signs "I love you". I feel joy when he pumps his arm up and down and says, "YES!" because he is super excited or super proud of himself. I feel joy when he spells his name out loud or names colors or numbers. If I remember, if I can push the chaos away. If I choose, I can always feel the joy.

365 days

This past weekend we celebrated the tiny toddler's Family Day. For reasons my husband and I cannot articulate we both dislike the term "Gotcha Day". We prefer to think of these two special days as the days that we all became a family.  Every Family Day is special, of course, but this year the celebration took on a different meaning. It was a celebration of survival. The growing pains our family suffered this past year were not easy. Always worth it, but not easy. And so, one year into being a family of four, I have these thoughts about the past 365 days.

If I had it to do all over again I would have read more books about behavior modification and the adopted child before traveling to Russia. Our adoption agency gave us a minimal amount of information on what to expect, and I truly didn't know any better. Which is 100% my fault. We had so much waiting time before the big five year old came home from China that I read every book about China adoption I could get my hands on. I knew exactly what our trip would be like. I knew how we would be treated in China. I knew what to expect when we came home. But the second time around it happened more quickly. We already had a child in our home to care for and drive around town to preschool, football practice, Sunday school, birthday parties, China school, China play group... It is no excuse, but we were busy living our lives. And we are good parents. We knew what we were doing. And thank God we did.

Because if we had been first time parents this past year would have been unbearable. We would have made way more mistakes than we did. That being said, I still wish I had been better prepared to start from day one the special type of love and discipline needed for a 24 month old adopted from a foreign country. I have no doubt that the frustration we felt when dealing with our sweet tiny toddler did nothing but add to the problem.

If I had it to do all over again I would have put the lock on the refrigerator earlier.

I would have found the solution to the problem of the tiny toddler removing his car seat straps earlier.

I would have removed all the toys before the tiny toddler threw them at my head.

I would have taken more deep breaths. I would have stopped using time outs sooner. I would have, I would have, I would have....

But I can't turn back the clock. And it is time for me to let it all go. I need to remember that we were in the trenches. Had I been on the outside looking in at our little drama this past year I might very well have thought of all of these things, and more. But living it every day, I was too close to the situation to clearly see my way out. So I did what everyone does in a difficult situation. I did the best I could with what I had to work with. And it was enough.

I have 365 days of being a mother to two small boys under my belt. I have 365 days of watching bugs crawl across the sidewalk. I have 365 days of blowing bubbles with the tiny toddler in the bathtub. I have 365 days of laying on our bed reading books with him. I have 365 days of  hugs, and cuddles, and kisses. I have 365 days of watching him say "I love you" in his special version of sign language. I have 365 days of "firsts". Watching him fall in love with his first TV show. Watching him taste peanut butter for the first time. Sharing his first amusement park and seeing his love of merry go rounds bloom right before my eyes. His first English words. His first meeting with Grandma and HG. His first time counting to five.

In three days my tiny toddler will celebrate his third birthday. Last year we were in Russia on his birthday and we celebrated with an odd tasting cake made by the hotel dining room. Me and Daddy and our new son, alone, unsure, not knowing what the future held but thrilled to be together in that moment. This year he understands what his birthday is about. He has picked out the flavor of cake he wants and has chosen the candles for the top. He likes to hold the package of candles and pretend to blow them out. He is ready. Later this month he will have another first- his first American birthday party. Because one of the few things we knew he truly liked last Christmas was buses that is what everyone gave him last year. Every Christmas present he opened contained some sort of bus toy. Now he thinks all presents hold buses and so every time we talk about his birthday he says "bus?". He has no idea....

The big five year old is in his second season of flag football. He will participate in his first vacation bible school this summer. he heads off to kindergarten in the fall, and will also be taking violin lessons, playing sports, and becoming more involved in church. He will continue with China school and his China play group. The tiny toddler is turning three and will soon be starting preschool. He will take swimming lessons this summer and a music class in the Fall. He will start Sunday school and maybe take martial arts at China school with his big brother. He will learn more English and more self control. My family may be done "growing", which is a little sad, sometimes. But we have so much "growing up" still to do.

So here's to another 365 days of chaos and craziness. Here's to more "Mommy, can you put this rock in your pocket cuz i want to keep it forever." More, "Me do it, Mama, me do it!". More singing in the car and dancing in the living room. More pretending the stairs are a train that can take us anywhere in the world we want to go. More watching bugs and playing in the dirt with our little construction cars. More monster trucks and Angry Birds. More giggles because big brother said "poop!". Another 365 days of love.