Saturday

Me, BoyOne, Vika (bio mom) and BoyTwo

Wendy, this one's for you, since you asked. Angela, I am sooo not smart enough to have any idea what that means, but I will find someone who does, so thanks for the tip:) Also, Horlachers, please email me, I have a question about the doll and plate you want and can't find your email...

Saturday was, as Yana says, something. As in there are no words to describe it. Please, if you have had similar experiences or can offer words of advice or encouragement, do so. You can email me privately if you'd rather.

Hmmmm. Where to start. BoyOne had a bath and brushed his teeth the day I checked them out of the orphanage. I want to emphasize that this was, in fact, a bath. As in he sat in the filthy water which in my opinion did no good as far as cleaning him. In fact, I had to scrub the bathtub twice after he got out. It looked as if it had been filled with mud. He didn't smell better. How could he have with water that dirty. I don't even know if he used soap. He really needed to shower and then take a bath. But, at the orphanage they hardly ever shower. And, this is gross, but the soap they use doesn't smell good and it doesn't clean either. When I would wash my hands there, they would end up dirtier than before I had washed them. I guess there are just too many dirty little hands and bodies using the soap. I don't understand it really. Also, the kids leave their underwear on at all times. Even when showering or bathing. Part of me is grateful that they have some aspect of 'modesty', but on the other hand, the kids will literally NEVER change their underwear. I'm sure some of them do, but most of them really believe that there is no need. So, you guessed it, he is still wearing the same nasty undies. You also read correctly that he has only brushed his teeth once. HOLY STINK.

Everything they eat here is bacon flavored, too. Sorry Jami, I know you liked the bacon flavored peanuts, but this trend has got to go!!!! Do you have any idea how nauseating the smell of bacon flavored breath mixed with cigarette smoke is??? Let me tell you, it's really, really, really bad. I hate bacon anyhow, and this has just sealed the deal in case there had been any chance in the future that I may reconsider. Ew. Ewewewewewew!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Saturday morning, I had about had it with being bored, listening to Russian television at the LOUDEST FRICKING VOLUME possible. I tell you, I sit there and turn it down and they turn it right back up. I hold the remote, they use the volume on the t.v. I block the t.v. and hold the remote, they freeeeeeeeeeeak out. I absolutely HATE the t.v. We hardly ever watch it at our house. Days will go by and it will not turn on at all. (Except for my husband who promptly turns off the alarm clock and turns on CNBC e.v.e.r.y. morning). Thanks, Matviivka and all those thus far involved in shaping the behavior of my children and all other orphans. I can only imagine how much t.v. they sit and watch in a week. And the volume has got to be doing some hearing damage. But, I guess it doesn't matter much as the life expectancy of these kids is so low. They probably die before they start to lose their hearing. I'm sorry if that sounds bad. It does to me, too, but it's true.

Back to Saturday. (by the way it's been raining so there goes the great outdoors.) We were all awake early. We had an appointment at the passport office to meet the guy there and pick up passports at 11:30. They close at noon. At nine, I reminded BoyOne of the day's activities and that he needed to shower. As in wash his hair, his feet (whole other smell there), his armpits, his whole body, with soap. He said ok, but didn't budge. I got myself all ready and BoyTwo. At ten I asked BoyOne to come eat some breakfast. He said he wasn't hungry. 10:30 I told him to please get ready. He said in a minute. at 10:45 I turned the t.v. off. I think if I had pooped on his face I'd have had a better reaction. Judas. Holy hell broke loose. There was yelling and screaming and crying and slamming of doors. I had to physically restrain him at one point so that he wouldn't break something. He wanted to 'go outside.' (smoke) I told him he had to shower first. More screaming. By now it's 11 and we need to leave in twenty minutes. He goes in and starts the bath. I'm not very happy about this as it takes much longer and doesn't even get him clean, but I've got to pick my battles. At 11:05 I knock on the door because I can hear that he is not in the tub. He tells me he is waiting for it to fill all the way up before he gets in. I tell him no, please get in right now or we will be late. He refuses. Right about now I want to kill him. I pull the drain on the tub and hand him his shoes. He freaks out. He wants to shower first.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!

Too damn bad. He missed that train about three hours ago. Little _________!!! And I tell him this (well, not the little _____ part). Now, he's not fluent in English, nor am I in Russian, but let me tell you that when you're having conversations like this, it's international and you know what each other are saying. I end up having to physically dress this fourteen year old baby and physically carry him out the door. I was beyond pissed. At this point Helen is freaking out and saying that we should just leave him and that we can get the passports without him, just let him do what he wants, blah blah blah. She means well, but there is NO WAY on God's green earth that I am backing down from this. NO. Way. No way.

So we head out to walk to the office (this is my favorite part, for reals) and it is now 11:35, we are late for our appointment and they close very soon and the man that is in charge of our particular passport Helen is worried about him leaving. She calls Zheniya our driver and asks him to send a cab for us saying that we have no time to walk. In my mind I'm thinking that I remember the passport office being about a five minute walk. Ten minutes, max. (so why the taxi?! by the time it comes, we could just walk there. there is no rationale to this.) I ask her to call the passport guy and ask if he will please wait. She says he will not. We are still standing there waiting for a cab. At 11:40, I take BoyTwo's hand and tell Helen and BoyOne to follow me, that we are not waiting for a driver and that we will walk. (If I had had to pay for a driver, I would've gone through the roof anyhow) We get to the passport office at 11:45, the man is waiting for us and I am quite sure that he can tell that not one of us is happy. He looks slightly amused. He asks if I am sure I want their passports. I tell him not really. BoyOne pipes up that I am refusing him food. Oh no, he did NOT!!!!!!!! That poor passport guy got an earful (not me talking to him, but him hearing me talk to BoyOne). I'm sure that this is not the first crazy orphan or crazy mother he has seen, but still. Sheesh. Wouldn't feed him?! Are you freaking kidding me?!?! So I had to add that I'd be happy to feed him if he could take a smoke break and shower for the first time in three days. Passport guy is laughing only it is not. funny. To BoyOne or to me, or to Helen I'm sure.

This is sooooo long that I'll leave you to your imagination for how the next two hours went. The plan was to meet and hang out with the boys birth mom (oh, joy. always wanted to do that. total sarcasm) at two. After the passport office, by the way, I phoned Yana just to be certain that we understood each other completely, and told BoyOne that I would not take him to say good-bye to his mother unless he cleaned himself. I told him that out of respect for her, he needed to show her that he was going to be alright and that she had done a good job so far and that she could feel proud of him. If he chose NOT to shower, I would send Helen and driver with BoyTwo and I would stay home with BoyOne. No sweat off my back, I secretly preferred this option. I was so nervous about meeting his mom. I mean seriously, what was I supposed to do? Bounce up to her and say, "Zdrastvitye, I'm Stephanie. I'm the one that's taking your children away from you. Nice to meet you." No thanks.

So, we go back to the apartment and I walk in to use the bathroom (I know, I know, big mistake) I hear the front door open and shut. I jump off the toilet, pants not even done up and shoot right out of the bathroom. But I was too late. HE RAN AWAY, people. How many of you can say that your adopted child ran away before you even got them home?! I'm sooooooo thrilled to be the one to pave the way for all of this untouched territory. Yana and Helen were concerned. This hasn't happened for them before (meeting of the two mothers, kids running away, mom carrying a fourteen year old boy, etc.)... I told them not to worry, that he was a big boy, an orphan and everyone knows that orphans are professionals when it comes to survival. He'll be fine. I really was not concerned. Honestly I was thinking that this might really work out. I can report him as a runaway and just go back to the good ol' USA with BoyTwo. It was sounding better by the minute. I told everyone to get into the car and that we would leave to go meet their mom. "What about BoyOne?!" What about him. I don't care. This is his choice to miss out on this. Granted, I was trying to talk myself down from being liv.id because I was sure that this day was going to be so hard for him, but it wasn't working so well. My poor friend Debbie who is in another town adopting called to say hello and I said, 'Things are really bad right now! I can't talk, please pray for me and I'll call you later.' She must be really good at prayers, because right then I decided to go check one last time to see if BoyOne had come back and changed his mind. As I rounded the corner to the apartment, I saw him standing by the complex door, crying. I told him that I knew he wanted to see his mom and to please go clean himself up for her, that she wanted to see him too. And he did.

What was going on? What had just happened? I don't really know. Was it really a power struggle or was he incapable of recognizing his emotions? I think that he did not want to say good-bye to her again. I'm sure that he has always held out hope that things would work out, that she would come back for them, that life would improve, or that she would tell them that she did not want them to leave. None of that had happened, and now, at this point, it was an absolute that it was not going to. That's pretty crappy for a kid to deal with. I think I'll have to erase this post sometime, for sensitivity reasons, but if you ever need to read it or know someone else who might, you can contact me later.

I was exhausted.

We were an hour and a half late meeting his mother. Grandmother was supposed to come, but was unable to make it. Step-dad came with mom which we were all a little concerned about given the death threats BoyOne has given... But, thanks to much praying, it went really well. Bio mom had the same sentiments as I did about meeting her. I think we were both worried about the meeting and didn't know what to expect. She was very kind. She told me that she thought I would be taller. I told her I thought that she would have blue eyes. haha. I know that she loves the boys. She apologized to me for not teaching them well and for not giving them any religious instruction. She told me that she had been a bad mother. I told her that I thought she had been a good mom. That I could tell because they are good boys (I'm sure right now you are thinking, really?!). They are. Especially BoyOne. His heart is good. It's just really entangled with his past and it's having a hard time breaking through. I know that the basis she gave him in his very early years will allow him to become who he will be (who is NOT who he is now). Had she not loved him and cared for him then, he would be different. She feels so guilty for how things are with them. My heart ached for her. I'm not sure that I could raise children in her circumstances either. I have been blessed with so many other opportunities that she has not had that have allowed me to have this life. She hasn't had this same chance. I told her that I would always tell the boys that she loved them, that we are grateful to her for loving them enough to let them come with us. I promised her we would take care of them physically, emotionally, and that we would teach them about God. As if the day hadn't been emotionally trying enough by then... She and I had a little photo shoot. We took pictures with each other, with the boys, with the dad, with Helen and Yana, of the orphan dogs at McDonalds...

It was sad to know they were saying good-bye. It made me hurt to think about how much they were hurting. Hurt is a part of life unfortunately. Why some have to have so much more of it than others is a mystery to me. I like to think that before we came to earth (I believe in a premortal existence as spirits, not reincarnation) Heavenly Father knew that some of us would have really crappy lives. I think about how hard it must have been for him and Jesus to let us come here knowing all that we would go through. I think about how if I had to send my own children somewhere and I knew that there was a super hard challenge ahead, I'd send my toughest most able child to that challenge, not the one that wouldn't be able to make it. I think that He did the same. I think that He chose His strongest children to have the hardest lives. I think that He allowed some of them to volunteer for hardships and trials so that they could receive blessings from them. I know personally, when I am in the middle of something really trying (ahem... yesterday...) I feel so much more connected with my Heavenly Father and Savior. Utterly and completely alone from others in this world, and utterly and completely dependant on them. While the trial part is pretty crummy, I rest in the knowledge that they will be with me and see me through it. If I didn't have to go through anything, I wouldn't have the experiences that prove this to me. I don't think I've had a very hard life, not at all, which I sometimes wonder if it's because I'm weak and the Lord knew I couldn't handle it..., but in the few 'trials' I have had, I know that during those times I came to grow and love and know my Heavenly Father and Savior in ways that I otherwise may have missed out on, at least for the time being. Anyhow, I don't judge her. At all. I am amazed by the love a biological mother can have for her child that allows her to see beyond herself and give her child the life that she wishes she could provide for them. I don't know if I could do it. But, somebody did it for me. And I am grateful and amazed by this every day.

Anyhow, I bought everybody their books after this, at least I bought everything they had. I cleaned them out!! They remembered me at the bookstore from last time. haha. So, please, come to the airport and collect your items:) I'm not sure that I'll ever leave home again! I can't wait to get there!

After the bookstore, we rushed back to the apartment to grab our things, thank Igor and his wife for allowing us to stay in their palace, and then raced to the train. Where I cried like a baby because I had to say good-bye to a country that I have a love/hate relationship with right now, good-bye to this adventure that has taken up so much of my time this past year, good-bye to people that I have come to know and love, and good-bye to my dear friend Yana. I will miss her so, so, so much. I cried for my good-byes, I cried to release some of my pent up emotions from the day, and I cried for my boys, in particular BoyOne who was leaving behind his life as he knows it. All he has ever had, all he has ever known. As I sat with him while we cried, I wished so badly to be able to take away his hurt and his past hurts, if I could, so that we didn't even have to be here. BoyTwo doesn't have the emotional ties to his life that BoyOne does, nor does he understand the magnitude of what is happening. Tears can be healing and these ones were. Life is good. Life isn't easy, but it's going on and it will be good.