One Year Anniversary

One year ago today was Squeaker's adoption day. Since she is well-known as the "human calendar" able to count fowards and backwards and sideways from any date which is important to her, she has been anticipating the day since July 3, 2008.

We went to Sonic for ice cream, just me and her which made her endlessly happy as she always wants to do things with just the two of us. The Sonicteers forgot to put the ice cream in the drink I ordered which was a bit disappointing and when I tried to reorder the right thing, they never came back with it. Oh well, it was Squeaker's day and she was happy.

She went to a pool party at the youth leader's house and made some new friends in the high school group. This is a big step for her since usually I am cautious about allowing her to go to events because she tends to be a bit over the top behavior-wise.

Afterwards she was hyped and happy but later snottily unpleasant about chores. I just kept adding them on until she was able to do them with a less grumpy demeanor. It didn't take too long so altogether a pretty good day for her.

Experience is (Not) Everything

The cover art of the novel I was reading last night is a black and white photograph of two sleeping babies. The Boss asked me who they were and I told him the book was about twin brothers and that the picture was supposed to be them as babies.

Him: "Oh. Are they adopted?"
Me: "No."
Him: (with great concern) "You mean they don't have a family?"

We have been praying for kids on photolistings that don't have families yet and are waiting to be adopted. I guess we might not have covered the fact that most kids become a part of their family in a more traditional way.

"God of All Comfort"

Christian recording artist Steven Curtis Chapman was on James Dobson's Focus on the Family radio broadcast over the last three days talking about the death of his five-year-old daughter, adopted from China. Amazing and powerful interview. Go here and click on Daily Broadcast to listen.

Maybe It's the Heat

We've been getting beat up by crazy emotions around here. It's somewhat disheartening to be repeatedly reminded that, just when everyone seems stable, the mixed-up emotional load is only lying dormant ready to explode at the next trigger. We've had some doozies the past couple days.

Very encouraging however is Squeaker's continued progress which is actually being noticed by others. Maybe getting to finalize her adoption at last, especially with so much family here showing support, has given her the added security she needed to begin acting like a "normal" person. Whatever it is, we'll take it.

Adoption Day

It was a long journey but we made it! Finally the end....and the beginning.

With a special request made by our adoption workers, Squeaker's finalization date fell during a "reunion" with family visiting from Washington D.C., Maryland, and Texas. Including our in town family, Squeaker had grandma and grandpa, four aunts, three uncles, eight cousins, nephew, and little brother there for her special day. Big sister Peaches and her oldest cousin were unable to attend.

Cold Feet

Tomorrow I will go to court to finalize Squeaker's adoption. She has lived with me for just over three years and we've been slowly working our way towards adoption for the last two.

Always dramatically emotional, whether real or put on, she was rude and snarky on Monday when assigned a chore. I finally had to get right in her face and tell her to choose between self-control and bedtime because I'd had enough. She chose wisely.

She attributed her moodiness to being "confused" over whether she really wanted to be adopted. This is a recurring theme and felt a little put on to me this time. Instead of getting into a big drawn out ordeal, I told her that sometimes before weddings or other major, life-chainging events people get "cold feet". Of course, it almost turned into a big drawn out ordeal since I had to explain what that meant and she had to keep interrupting with more rehashing to which I kept repeating "It's normal". I don't mean to minimize how life-altering adoption is for older kids, but she just loves the drama and will keep at it or manufacture it when none is to be found.

When she was placed with me it was to be for six months (after living one year in a group home since she first entered foster care) and at that point she was to be reunified with her birth mom. When six months rolled around she finally got up the nerve to tell her social worker that she was afraid to live with her birth mom. After farming her out for trial visits to several relatives who freaked out at her bizarre behavior, lying, stealing, temper outbursts, poor hygiene and a myriad of other concerns, I asked to be considered as an adoptive placement for her.

It has been a wild rollercoaster since then. I slowed down the process several times as we attempted to stabilize her behavior and get a correct diagnosis and appropriate meds. We considered placing her somewhere else temporarily in order to keep her and the other kids in the home safe from her impulsive, destructive, angry behavior.

After several disastrous misses on diagnosis and medications, someone figured it out (bipolar disorder) got her on the right meds. Things have been much better since.

She's certainly one of a kind and, drama and all, tomorrow she'll be mine for keeps.

Eat a Treat, Support Adoption

This weekend when you buy a Frosty at participating Wendy's restaurants fifty cents will be contributed to the Dave Thomas Foundation to help find adoptive familes for the over 150,000 waiting children in foster care.

Pretty cool.

When Love Takes You In

Just because I love Steven Curtis Chapman and I haven't posted this yet....and because I get to go sign adoption papers for Squeaker next week:

Dedicated to Foster and Adoptive Parents "In The Arena"

"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat."

Theodore Roosevelt

"The Man In The Arena"

Excerpt from the Speech at the Sorbonne

Paris, France

April 23, 1910

As our mom once told us, "You might think you aren't doing it perfectly, but at least you are doing something. That's more than most people."

You're Where I Belong

My girls' adoptions have been a long time coming but should take place within months. My son was adopted in 2006. This is "our" song taken from the Stuart Little soundtrack.

Cinderella

One of my favorite recording artists and adoptive dads Steven Curtis Chapman with a song inspired by two of his adopted daughters.

More Waiting

This video is a review of the past year by a local tv station that features children in the county awaiting adoption. Two of these kiddos were in Ana's home and one was with another family we know. Many of the children that have come through our homes while we did "crisis shelter care" are now available for adoption and we see them from time to time on these kinds of features or hear about them from adoption workers we've worked with. There are a couple little guys on this video I have inquired about but it looks like we'll have to wait on that while I finish with the girls' adoptions and start the homestudy process all over again. Unfortunately, that means they may end up having to wait longer too. One of them turns nine this month and has been waiting for his own family more than half of his life.

Waiting

I saw this video on another adoptive parent's blog. Every time I think I've done my part, I see all the kids who are growing up without a permanent family and I realize there's so much more work to do. Click here to see some of the 115,000 kids in America still waiting for their forever family. Print a picture and pray for that child to be home soon.

Four Years Old

The Boss is four years old today. We celebrated last night with my sisters and their families. The Boss was thrilled with the whole celebration entertaining his fans with funny exclamations of delight at each of his presents, especially the "transforners" . He was funny and delightful the entire evening, enjoying spending time with his older cousins. Actually, he generally is funny and delightful when he wants to be. Sometimes he would rather be demanding, ornery, stubborn, and unbelievably strong-willed. To be fair he's had a lot of modeling of not-so-cooperative behavior spending his whole life with a long succession of traumatized kiddos who often make him the target of their misplaced anger.

He's always been a little bitty guy, born premature and playing catch up ever since. He didn't sit up until 9 months, walked at 19 months, and on his second birthday had a whopping vocabulary of 5 whole words (His first word was "kitty". "Mama" would have been a nice choice). He's very particular about his clothing and food, being overly sensitive to textures and smells. He's still working on some motor skills that Seamonkey has been adept at for some time and on his 4th birthday is yet to be potty-trained. Despite his delays he is very fortunate. His, birth mother was incarcerated for most of her pregnancy sparing him the difficulties and disabilities that afflict most of his five older biological siblings. It is likely, given the family history, that he was prenatally exposed to drugs and alcohol at some point prior to his birth mother's imprisonment.

Yet, especially at this time of year, it's hard not to think about and pray for his birth mother. Case worker reports state that she had "loving concern for all her children" even though she was unable to parent them. Nurses' notes following his birth document their very few days together. He was released on Christmas day and placed in two different foster homes before coming to me at 7 days old. His birth mother never saw him again. He was an unexpected blessing I thought would only be with me for a few months. I thought of her often as I held him when he was so tiny and it made me sad. I wonder if she wonders about him and thinks of him on the day of his birth. I can't help but think of how different his life would be if he had stayed with his original family who stuggle with decades-long drug addictions. I thank God that he has a new family who love him and can't imagine life without him and who will to the best of their ability raise him to love Jesus. Although it is a wonderful and blessed thing, adoption always involves loss. Loss of dreams and expecations, of heritage and biological history. And so I pray for his first mom whose many children are being raised by others, that her loss would be eased, that she would be freed from her addictions, and that any other children that may come after would be protected from the debilitating effects of drug and alcohol exposure. Most of all I pray that she will know Jesus so that when we meet her again one day we will all be part of the same "adoptive family".

Do the Math

According to Barna Research Group there are approximately 18 million adult evangelical Christians in America.

There are approximately 114, 000 foster children in America currently eligible and waiting to be adopted.

"Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress..." James 1:27

All Quiet on the Western Front

It has been uncharacteristically calm (although never quiet) around here this week. Helping this along is that fact that Drama Boy (11 this month) has been gone for a few days to science camp. With half the wrestling duo gone, Sparky (9) has had to content himself with standing on the furniture, drumming the walls, and sneaking candy off the gingerbread houses rather than going for the ultimate pin....apparently garnering more points for an unsuspecting victim and a tackle that results in screeches, tears, and crashing belongings all over the room. He had a storm cloud over his head last night over a homework assignment and no dessert but managed to squash it before it let loose. That's progress, folks. These guys are in guardianship with Ana and, although we share the house and I think they are great, I'm happy to let her wrangle these two wild monkeys.

My kids have also had a relatively calm week. Squeaker (12) had a good day at school yesterday which followed a not-so-good day. I had to pick her up early on Tuesday to avoid an outburst escalating into a third suspension. We had to endure a little bit of attitude afterwards when she had to stay in her room (except for lunch, chores, snack, and dinner) and was required to write an apology note to her teacher. Some stomping on the stairs, a few door slams and snarky comments were mild and mangeable compared to the raging tantrum it could have turned into. She did write a very nice note to her teacher and pulled herself together to have a "great" day despite her vow (decorated with some choice "colorful" words) that she would NEVER go back to that place. She's making a tremendous effort and I'm very proud of her. She has a 4.0 this year, albeit in a special classroom, but she is doing the work and mostly behaving pleasantly in class. Again, progress. Major progress, even.

"The Boss" (4 this month) and grandson (2 1/2) have been squabbling all week in preschool fashion over whose toys are whose and tattling about who is being naughty. They have been blaming each other for things that I find hilarious.

Everyone in our house seems to have a pretty gnarly edge...except shaggy pooch, Cooper, who is about the nicest dog on the planet. I don't think any of the human types in our house would classify as plain old "nice" like he does. But as a friend of mine says "Nice is not one of the fruits of the spirit". Not that we all couldn't use a lot of work on the real ones! But for now, the blessed reprieve from tantrums, cussing, and bad attitudes is good enough for me!