Perseverance
Everyone has certain values learned in childhood from their parents. And some feel as if you were born with them, as well. As a parent myself, I'm very thankful that a few of my values run so deep. When tempted to give up, that well doesn't run dry.
Guidance
Lord, when the tempest rages, I need not fear,
For you, the Rock of Ages, are always near.
Close by your side abiding, I fear no foe.
For when your hand is guiding, in peace I go.
-
Lutheran Service Book, Hymn No. 722, st. 2
Postscript
Two afternoons ago, my thirty minutes at home included feeding the dog, taking a shower, and preparing snack. In the midst of this work, Kola started spitting at David. I told Kola to go outside immediately. He purposefully daudled, so I picked him up and pushed him out the front door. Since he wasn't dressed for winter, I turned to find his coat and boots. In the ten seconds that I wasn't watching the door, he grabbed a snow shovel and started pounding the front door with it. Luckily, he hit the metal portion of the screen door and not the glass.
Opening the door, I picked him up again to take him to the bathtub. I know now to carry him with his back to me, so he can't hit, kick, or spit as easily. We marched into the bathroom, where I discovered that the bathtub contained several inches of water from my shower.
"Well, Kola, since you broke the bathtub . . ."
It took all of a split second for me to decide he could sit fully-clothed in the water. In he went! Now he really screamed!
When Kola got over the shock, he started splashing large amounts of water out of the tub. I grabbed the nearby bucket and responded to each splash with a bucket of water on his head. He couldn't help himself from letting a quick giggle slip out. I was not so amused.
Adults-Night Out
Every Thursday night, I head to church for handbell and choir rehearsals. When I first started my work as a music director, many many years ago, rehearsals made me nervous, and I prepared at length for them. I still prepare, but my mood about them is very different. Working with my ensembles gives me great joy, both for the music and for the people who minister with their music.
Even the Bathtub
Making progress on getting Kola tested for behavioral issues. It can't begin too soon . . .
Yesterday, Kola had two more rages. I put him in the bathtub but neglected to remove his snow boots first. Big mistake. He took a hard, swift kick at the drain lever and broke it.
Now after every bath or shower, we are emptying the tub water into the sink with a bucket. Kola's brothers and sisters (and parents) are not pleased.
Postscript: Lullaby in Counterpoint
Our piano is covered with greeting cards and children's drawings. Several of them are Kola's handmade cards, given to me since his last bad tantrum. Poor guy must feel guilty, because the cards all say how much he loves me.
Lullaby in Counterpoint
Kola exploded into a full-scale rage because I wouldn't fold a piece of paper for him. I carried him screaming to the bathtub and removed the shampoo bottles and soap so he wouldn't throw them. When he grabbed a towel, I took that away as well. Bereft of possible flying objects, he started spitting at me. I told him that it didn't hurt me--it's only water--and moved back to sit on the toilet where I could watch him.
One of my parenting strategies is to try new things to see what will work. Figuring that these angry outbursts might be related to developmental delays and possible attachment issues, I decided to treat him as a younger child by singing softly one of his favorite lullabies.
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,
You make me happy, when skies are gray,
You'll never know, dear, how much I love you.
Please don't take my sunshine away.I must have sung that lullaby forty or fifty times, over and over. His response to the song shifted over the next twenty minutes. At first, for a long time, he covered his ears, rocking and screaming, "I hate you." His litany quickly matched the rhythm of my singing. Then he sang the song with me, changing some key words:
You aren't my sunshine, I hate you Mom,
You make me mad, when skies are gray,
You'll always know, Mom, how much I hate you.
Please take my sunshine away.I slowed down my tempo to confuse him, and we ended up with quite an interesting canon/round. He then rocked some more, changing back to the rhythmic "I hate you." That subsided, and he only rocked. After a long time, he joined my song again, in perfect rhythm:
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,"Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry."
You make me happy, when skies are gray,"Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry."
You'll never know, dear, how much I love you."Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry."
Please don't take my sunshine away."Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry."
Homework
Sixteen-year-old Paul values his free time very highly. As a result, he complained yesterday about regular assignments in one of his classes which involve copying down answers already highlighted in the textbook. Rather than recognizing the mnemonic nature of the exercises, he described them as "giving your brain a nap!"
Ships Passing in the Night
Two phases of our adoption intersected today--the end of one and the beginning of another.
This afternoon, I closed the last of our "extra" savings accounts. In 2003, two years before the first adoption, we opened two savings accounts to handle funds in addition to our regular savings. One account ("S3") handled the proceeds from refinancing our house, which we used for two things--adoption expenses and home renovations in preparation for the children. The other new account ("S4") was the receptacle for monetary gifts until we dispersed them for adoption expenses.
Before Kola's adoption, we refinanced again to take advantage of lower mortgage rates and consolidate credit card debt from the first adoption. S3 handled those funds, while S4 still collected some monetary gifts. Since most of these gifts went to Trinity for their adoption fund, we used S4 only for a few gifts; eventually we closed it. But I hadn't gotten around to closing S3 until today. Finally, the $10 service charges every quarter for a low balance spurred me to clean up our accounts.
I did this banking only moments after taking David and Kola back to school, following their doctor appointments with our pediatrician. The readoption requires letters from all of our doctors stating that we are in good health. I don't know what happens to adoptive families in poor health--since that doesn't apply to us, I didn't ask. While at the pediatrician, I asked for a referral to a testing center to diagnose the cause(s) of Kola's tantrums. We would really like some assistance with this problem. It's getting very difficult. The pediatrician agreed with me that further testing is warranted and gave me the referral.
After years of adoption preparation, how can it be that readoption work and the start of behavioral testing took place within the same hour as the closing of an adoption bank account?
Exhaustion
Many of you ask how Jonathan and I manage to do everything. The short answers are:
"one day at a time" and "get enough sleep"
Presidents' Day weekend was long--Thursday noon until Tuesday morning. Jonathan worked full days at Concordia on Friday and Monday, and I took Saturday and Sunday for my church job.
On Monday, after my hours of childcare with all six children, Jonathan told me he'd take the kids for the evening. My precious "off time" for the week stood before me, but I was too tired to go anywhere. In addition, the thought of stepping out into the cold sounded terrible. Then I started crying that I would be wasting my free time. I just went to bed the same time as Kola, and slept for ten straight hours.
Things looked much better on Tuesday morning.
One More Special Day
Gung Hay Fat Choy!
Happy Chinese New Year!
Peeling an Onion, Part VIIb
(For "Peeling an Onion, Part VIIa" see Dec. 20, 2009.)Russia or Ukraine? On Sept. 14, 2009 I wrote about matters of procedure, in which the pros and cons of the two countries balanced out. Jonathan and I therefore turned to other ways of deciding.
From a cultural angle, Russia's size today dwarfs that of Ukraine. As a world superpower, the arts in Russia--literature, dance, music--dominate other countries in eastern Europe. But historically, Ukraine has played a greater role. While Moscow was still a small village, Kyiv had already stood for centuries as a major world capitol. Much that is considered Russian today actually originated in Ukraine--the Orthodox faith (slavic version), Cossack dancing, borscht soup, and perhaps even vodka.
We noticed that adoption brochures from the two countries differed in their depictions of children. Most of the Russian orphanages portrayed the kids standing at attention, dutifully posing for the camera. Ukrainian photos, in contrast, usually featured action shots of children dancing, singing, or just playing. We heard from several sources that Ukraine is known among eastern European countries as the best in early childhood care. That appealed to us, as did their emphasis on cultural training.
to be continued
More Special Days
Once again, we've hardly seen a week since Christmas that all the kids were in school. The high school is off when the teachers have inservice training and when the building hosts ACT tests or 8th grade visitation days. Grace released students yesterday at noon for parent/teacher conferences last night and today. The elementary schools cancelled classes on voting day due to security concerns. Monday is the Presidents' Day holiday for the children, but not for Jonathan (and therefore, not for me!).
And when the kids do attend school, the special days are multiplying. Between Groundhog Day, the 100th day of school, Lincoln's birthday, and Valentine's Day, the first two weeks of February has been very full.
In addition, Paul's 16th birthday landed this week, and we owe treats to school for Rachel and David's half birthdays. (When a child's birthday falls in the summer, they can celebrate on their half birthday.)
Is there anything I'm forgetting? Probably!
A CWK
Jonathan grew up both as a PK and an MK. As a child, he and his brother didn't play army, but church, taking roles as pastor and musician. Our children are also affected by their parents' jobs as church workers:
I held Kola on my lap for a bedtime reading about boats. My voice toned through the book, with stops for him to comment or gaze at the illustrations. When we finished the story and turned the last page, I expected the obligatory "The End." Instead, as Kola gazed at the blank page, his response was "Amen."
Discipline
Three days ago, I finally told David and Kola that their bad behavior had reached my limits. From now on, I told them, their lives would be different.
The next day, I had child duty for the two of them after school. Every time their behavior slipped, they had to bundle up and go outside in the snow. If they refused, I counted to three to give them time to think about it. If they still didn't budge, I picked them up and set them outside, giving them their coat, gloves, and boots, and locking the door. After ten or fifteen minutes, they could reenter the house.
David endured about four rounds. At 5:30 pm, he said he was bored and wanted to take his bath (about two hours earlier than normal). I think his real reason was the hope that I wouldn't send him outside in pajamas. Luckily, his behavior improved, and I was spared that decision!
Happy Valentine's Day
No, I haven't confused my dates! Today is the 9th, not the 14th. Between work schedules, Paul's birthday tomorrow, and a tournament on the weekend in Wisconsin, this morning was our only window of opportunity.
Jonathan and I strive for one date a month. Today, as usual, our time together took place during the school day. The few times that we've attempted an evening date by leaving the children with a babysitter, the fallout for us is extreme. The children misbehave for days, since their family problems in Ukraine often took place with a babysitter in the picture. We also don't allow our older children to watch the younger ones. They've done too much of that already, and we want them to be children again.
Jonathan and I enjoyed a quiet breakfast at a local cafe. It was a wonderful Valentine's present!
Consensus
Now that Kola's calming down, David is revving up.
Many wise parents have advised us that siblings don't act up at the same time. It's as if they wait until a moment of relative calm before deciding it's safe to misbehave. Thank goodness they don't all act up at one time!
Improvement
Jon and I each spent lots of time with Kola on Thursday. During his very long "nap," in which he didn't sleep, I lay on the bed beside him. After lots of struggling and screaming, he finally settled down and eventually reached over to hold my hand. Later in the day, Jonathan also held him for a long time.
All of this attention seems to have helped, for his behavior yesterday was better.
Comparisons
All of our boys have exhibited rages, while neither girl has yet to display even one. The girls have other ways, however, to get their points across!
The older five remember their birth mother, while Kola didn't even know he had one. If the group of five wants to distinguish between their two mothers, they call us their "Ukrainian mother" and "American mother." Kola uses the terms "first mom" (me) and "second mom" (birth mother).
So imagine my surprise yesterday when Kola's rage included the following verbal hurl: "You're not my mother!" It's not that I wasn't expecting this phrase: see my blog post on May 14, 2007. But's it's interesting that the first child to say it was Kola, who never knew his birth mother. I have a hunch that this issue is contributing to his current bout of rages.
Natural Consequences
Yesterday was a rough day with Kola--two major tantrums. On the way to school, he screamed full-throttle in my ear as I buckled his seat belt. Ouch!
He had not eaten any breakfast, let alone brush his teeth. When I reached around to the back seat to hand him a piece of buttered toast, it immediately flew back at me. Luckily, the napkin kept the butter off the dashboard. From a personal angle, the extra bread was good--I hadn't eaten much myself at breakfast.
After Kola cooled down a little, I put toothpaste on his toothbrush and handed it back. He hurled it at the opposite door in the back seat. The toothbrush slid down, leaving blue toothpaste sticking to the door.
We arrived at school, and I told him that he couldn't leave the car until his teeth were brushed. Many minutes went by, and then he picked up the toothbrush and showed it to me, saying, "Mom, I need some toothpaste."
My response? "There it is--take it off the car door, if you want some."
He actually did!
Photos from Our Day in Court
The younger four children are "served their papers":
We wait for our court appointment on the 17th floor, with spectacular views of the Loop and Lake Michigan. Mark and Cindy Waldron join us for the big day.
Adam signs some preliminary papers:
No photos were allowed in court, but our good friend Cindy snapped this shot before we went in:
Celebrating at the Rainforest Cafe:
A happy mom is glad everything went well:
About Face
I had hoped to post some photos of our court day, but ran into technical difficulties. Will try again tomorrow.
So . . . new topic.
Kola continues to have tantrums almost every day. My latest discipline attempt is to put him into the (dry) bathtub until he finishes kicking and screaming. I stay nearby in the kitchen, so he knows he's not alone. When he can control himself, he sits on the kitchen floor until he fully cools down, and then he can resume regular activities.
As long as he doesn't destroy items in the bathroom, this method seems to work.
More About Court
We all took the "L" to the Loop, disembarking in the station under the Daley Center. I knew the building well, having served on the jury of a three-week malpractice suit in 1991 (during the time my dissertation was winding up).
Taking the elevator to the seventeenth floor, we met our lawyer for the first time. She sent us back down to a lower level, so the four younger children could be served their court papers. The sheriff enjoyed his task immensely, giving each child a toy sheriff's star as well as the required documents.
We returned to the floor of the courtroom, waiting in an anteroom designed for children. They had activities there for all ages, from toys to computers, and we were thankful for the diversions from their excited emotions. (Only moments before leaving home, they had decided to dress up for the occasion!) Jonathan and I signed some final papers and wrote out the check for the lawyer.
"Stahlkes!"
Filing into the courtroom, we all stood before the judge, who was seated in a high tribunal. He smiled at us and asked lots of questions, making sure to address each person in the family. The older boys had to consent to their own adoption, both verbally and in writing. After about ten or fifteen minutes, which seemed much longer, he congratulated and dismissed us.
Now that the readoption has been initiated, it will work its way through paperwork channels for about six weeks. No further court visits are necessary, even by our lawyer. Everything will take place by mail.
We celebrated at the Rainforest Cafe, which the kids enjoyed immensely. Adam decided he would brag to his classmates about what he had done that day instead of school!
