The Past

Heavy topic. Always is. When the boys talk about happy things, they begin to feel a little homesick and they also worry about their friends and their bio mom. I never know quite what to say because I have the same sentiments. Interestingly enough, I have offered multiple times to help them contact their mom and/or friends and they haven't really wanted to. I can't really figure that one out. Maybe it would be too hard for them? I don't know. I don't even know if they know. When they talk about bad things, I am often so shocked that I don't know what to say and I'm trying really hard to make sure my face stays looking normal instead of contorting into the face of someone who is completely horrified.

Last night I was making bread in the kitchen and was using a certain kitchen utensil when BoyTwo saw me with it and excitedly came over to me saying, 'mami Ukraine this one!' over and over. I got excited with him and asked if she used to make them bread, too. (I am also very naive) The look on BoyTwo's face was priceless. It pretty much said, 'Make bread?! What the crud are you talking about lady?!' He then told me about some things that she used to do with said utensil that did not involve cooking. He was laughing about it.

I don't mind if the boys love their bio mom, in fact I want them too. I like to think it's easier to deal with for both them and me than hating her or being bitter. I don't mind when they talk about her either (other than the content is often questionable). I feel like this whole two mom thing isn't so complicated for me because I am adopted, too, and I feel like I understand more the ability a child has to love two moms. And to love them differently, for that matter. In the early days, I was able to see the internal struggle in one child with guilt of loving us and feeling like that meant he was abandoning his bio mom. This was taken out on me. These occasions are happening far less now. While I did not enjoy it, I got it. I don't at all feel threatened by her or even hate her. I can't even say that I am mad at her. What I feel is sadness and heartache. I pray for her most days. My heart aches for her loss and for the difficult life that she has had. In all honesty I feel guilty myself because I don't know that I could have or would have done anything differently if I had been in her shoes. Perhaps the only difference between the two of us is that I was born in America and was dealt a winning hand to start with.

So, when the boys tell us stories of things that happened that should never have taken place and in a sense glorify and excuse what she has done, I kind of get it. In that same breath, I worry about them because I know that they think these things are okay to do, normal. I don't want them to think that 'desperate times call for desperate measures' or that circumstances allow for bad choices to be made. I want them to know that these things are not okay, that they should not have seen these things. I do not want them thinking I am judging or bad mouthing their bio mom. Most of all I want them to feel safe and know that they are loved. I desperately want them to be able to make better decisions in their futures.

Pretty much I have taken to telling them the typical, 'I'm so sorry that I didn't know you then so that I could have helped you,' or 'I wish I could've been there to take care of you,' or 'I'm sorry that you have had to do so many difficult things.' They will usually answer back that 'it's okay!', as if they are surprised that I feel so sad/disturbed/devastated that they had to go through what they did. Last night, for whatever reason, (possibly the fact that BoyTwo's aggressive and impulsive behavior makes me quite concerned for his future at this time) I felt that I needed to say something more. While he was laughing about what had happened back in Ukraine, I told him, 'BoyTwo I am sorry that you had to see that happen.' His response was not surprising, 'It's okay, mom, it's big good job!'

And that is the problem right there.

It is NOT okay! It is not big good job!

I have always felt that if I said something negative about her behaviors, I would be judging her, something I am so not willing to do. Last night I realized this was not the case. It may sound so lame, but I realized that even though I understood why she did what she did, even though her lot in life is less than 'fair', even though I'm not so sure that I would have been any different were it me, I realized that no matter what, those things were not okay and that I HAD to make that clear.

Then I had this amazing peace fill my mind and I was reminded of the gift of the Atonement of our Savior, Jesus Christ. And not in a 'this is how SHE can be saved' sort of way, but in a 'this is how He can help and save me' sort of way. I find myself relying on the Atonement primarily for my sins and heart aches and losses and often forget that because of the Atonement there is forgiveness, more hope, more guidance, more peace, and more love. The other beautiful thing that happened was that I knew what to say to BoyTwo so that the little guy would understand (something that is a HUGE challenge) what he needed to. While the words are short and simple (unlike this post), there was such a love and power behind them that came from above.

'BoyTwo, '_______________' is not okay. I am so sad that you had to see that. I am so glad that you are safe. I love you so much!'

and then he hugged me, passed gas, laughed and went on his merry way.

'Running' Wild

We're pretty wild over here when we play. Even our really boring and quiet board games can get pretty crazy. Crazy as in tonight while playing Yahtzee with the bigs, One's toe nail was ripped off. Ew. We all did very poorly and it was a great learning experience for the kiddos about how winning isn't everything and sometimes it's a lot more fun to lose. Especially when you lose bad AND lose a toe nail. We're still trying to convince her of this.

Prior to our bigs game night, all the kids (minus Three. Find out below why) had a great day today rearranging furniture and cleaning out their bedrooms. They also spent the afternoon sledding/skiing/snowboarding on the golf course behind our house and ice skating in one of the sand traps. We made berry smoothies (that all the kids loved yesterday, but I made the mistake of letting them see that I put, gasp, spinach in them so now they think they are gross), watched the X Games, and read together.

I left the house with Three this morning at about ten to go to the doctor's office. I'm thinking that there is more going on here than a dairy allergy. Here's the deal. Three of the girls have had the runs since, yes I'm a bad mom, early October. As in six to ten times a day. But I'm not all bad because we do have six kids and let's be honest, stuff is going to cycle through our house at break neck speed. Some of us are more susceptible than others and for a while I just wrote it off as poor immune systems.

Then I finally and barely made it through the bliss of the holiday season without losing my mind (speaking of losing things, we accidentally left one of our kids at a basketball game Thursday. Fortunately it was an English speaking child who knew how to use a telephone and called us to ask where we had gone... oops.) and called my pediatrician who I really like. Who I had actually tried to get ahold of during November and December, but never quite connected. She suggested the whole dairy free thing to see if it helped. We also have other issues like severe eczema, exhaustion, stomach pain and bloating, along with vomiting, so as much as I was sure/desperately hopeful this was not dairy related, I agreed to go without. Unfortunately/Fortunately it has helped, a little. Three was still on the pot like four times a day and throwing up a couple times a week. Not to mention the other kids who have also had similar problems. So this morning when it was 9:30 a.m. and she'd already been to the bathroom four times and thrown up three times, I was motivated to take some action. Usually I'm motivated to get us all out the door and into school on time, but today was, miraculously, a stay at home day! I had actually called said pediatrician last Tuesday when more barfing had taken place and they were like, 'well, it's probably just a bug and it's okay to have diarrhea four or five times a day.' Really? REALLY??? For FOUR MONTHS???? Please, if anyone else believes that it is just fine to have diarrhea a MINIMUM of four to five times a day for four months, please let me know, because I am not okay with this. I also do not think it is normal to be throwing up three or four times a week. Call me crazy. But, given that I love this pediatrician and highly respect her opinion, I had decided to let it go. All week I watched these kids holding their tummies all the time and running to the bathroom every hour, even during school. Then when Huz and I saw how miserable Three was this morning, we decided I would take her into town to a walk-in clinic that I will not ever visit again, at least not to see the doc that I saw today.

I wondered about the possibility of having Three tested for giardia to the nurse who checked us in and this is how the conversation went down when the doctor came in. Mind you, this is how he entered the room:

him: 'four days is hardly time to be concerned about a virus let alone a threatening illness as giardia.'

me, wanting to say, hi, I'm Mrs. H. Nice to meet you. Yes, I'd love to tell you what's been going on, but instead let's just cut to the crap (no pun intended): 'it's been four months, not days.'

him, looking at the notes the nurse took: 'it says here four days.'

totally bugged by his condescending tone right now. okay buddy, do you think it's possible that she wrote the wrong thing down???? I'm here, as the mother of the patient, telling you it has been four MONTHS. Who are you going to believe? Me or the lady we just barely met five seconds ago for five seconds who was simply recording what I was telling her??

me: 'well, it has been going on since early October, so it has definitely been four months and not four days.'

him, in not a very nice tone: 'sooooo, what makes THIS day the magic day? Why all of a sudden can you not wait any longer to find out why she is sick?'

me: 'well, she's been quite ill this morning and I had time to run to town. Also, I had spoken to my pediatrician Tuesday of this week and she seemed to think this was not anything to be concerned about and I don't agree that having diarrhea ten times a day and throwing up three or four times a week is normal.'

him: 'how many kids do you have?'

me: 'six'

him: 'well I'm no math whiz, but if you have six kids and they are attending school and get the typical 8-9 viruses a year then I'm pretty sure that someone is always going to be sick at your house. It's going to be passed around. I'm sure it is not the same kid that is throwing up and having diarrhea this whole time.'

are you freaking kidding me.

I should have just left right then, but I really wanted to have her labs run and didn't know when I could get her back in next week. Besides, I didn't want to make her wait any longer. That being said, I really wanted to kick him in the face. Pretty sure I can remember which kid is barfing and having diarrhea. I'm not a total loser.

me: 'well, I'm definitely certain that this child here has had diarrhea and vomiting for four months now.'

him: 'well, I guess we can run some blood work and get some stool samples.'

me: 'yep, I guess we can.'

Aaaaaaand, so for the next two hours I helped hold down my daughter while they did a blood draw (which by the way showed high white blood cell count, not dangerously high, but definitely high. thank you very much mr. know-it-all-maybe-you-have-your-kids-confused doctor) and held specimen cups with my gloved hands hoping to catch enough, er, specimen to do the testing. At least the nurses were super nice. anyhow, thanks for listening to my crazed ranting.

Let's end on a happy note! Funny thing Four said the other day while I was in the shower. She pulled my tupperware container full of yarn from back in the day when I thought I was busy but I actually had time to knit into my bathroom and sat on it, facing me, like she was about to see a movie, "I'm just going to sit here and enjoy you. What should we talk about, mom?"

?!

Quote of the Day

After not quite landing a 360 off a jump while skiing, BoyOne came down on his behind quite hard. This is what he had to say about it,

"Oh! I ouch my butt!"

lol.

BoyTwo also wrecked on the rainbow rail while skiing tonight and skinned his little nose. It's pretty icy up our way because it won't snow and the few times it has, it rains the next day and then freezes it. There's a ton of flooding up here (not us this year, thank heavens!!) because it's been so warm. Anyhow...

Here is a sample of his 'Argumentative Essay Outline'

(you'd think this would come very easily, given the argument part:))

Prompt: no cell phones in soccer (came up with this on his own)

Thesis: for many reasons, I do not believe we should have cell phones in soccer.

Reason 1: You could lose it (really?! this is the first reason for not having cell phones during soccer?!)

Evidence 1 of reason 1: he runs fast and jumps and the phone falls out of his pocket

Evidence 2 of reason 1: the ball can hit the pocket and break it (as I read this, I am realizing we need to work on the supportive evidences for the appropriate reason a little...)

Evidence 3 of reason 1: I give a pass as he stands and talks by telephone and the team is unhappy.

Oh the mind of a fourteen year old. Good times:)

Tonight Tonight

Our family theme song.

On accident.

Let me have you imagine how funny it is to be in a car full of kids and friends and they are all singing

'7 days of torture, 7 days of bitter'

The kids are ages 14, 11, 8, 7, 6, and 4. It makes me laugh.

or how about hearing them sing it from the shower?

or the time I was singing it and my 4 year old corrected me on the lyrics.

or BoyTwo, 'la la la, vatevah, la la la, it donut mattah, la la la, oh vell, la la la.'

One likes this song and has danced to it and began singing it a while ago. One night we were all in the car headed to ski and it had been a. week. She started to sing this song and surprisingly enough (it wasn't on our i-Pod) most of the other kids were pretty familiar with at least the chorus. One was the lead vocal and everybody else was back up. She was doing the callouts and everyone else was answering back,

'everybody'

'woah'

'come on'

'ohhhh'

'all you animals' (how completely appropriate, by the way!!)

'woah'

'let me hear you now'

'ohhh'

Huz and I just joined in. After all, it had been a really, really messed up week:)

School Woes

Maybe I should have said 'education woes.' Although we do have plenty of school woes:), tonight's thoughts are on my children's education. Report cards came home over the weekend. It takes me back to the day when I only had one child in school and she was/is brilliant. I felt like such a stellar parent. haha. 'One is a joy to have in class.' 'One far exceeds expectations academically.' 'One is very gifted.' 'One is a good example and friend to all her peers.'

And I would smile and pat both her and myself on the back.

Fast forward to this past term. The principal and I are on first name basis, and a certain teacher is programmed in my speed dial, as I am sure my number is in hers-and it's not because of my exceptional involvement in the PTO. Despite the hours of homework we do and the flashcards we use in the car and the reading of road signs when we are driving and the counting of train cars that we see and the fraction practice we get while baking (prior to our new restricted diet), 3 of my 5 school age children are not doing well in school. And one of the two that are not included in that ratio is having severe anxiety over school. I am sad for my kids that try so hard yet continue to struggle so much. I am sad for all kids that have this stress of learning difficulties. Also, while I would describe myself as being 'intense' in the homework department, I also have to say that a big part of me doesn't agree with doing hours of homework after being at school for an entire day. We do what we can and still make sure that we have time to be a kid. Some nights that means we bag the homework and hit the slopes as a family:) (Monday)

I do believe we have a huge responsibility as parents to ensure our children's academic success. However, now I know that while parents do play a big role in their children's education, kids come to us the way they are and they each have their own personal struggles and talents. It's up to us to help them recognize the good within and not let their struggles keep them down. We will continue to do our best and be happy that we have the support we do and the resources that are available to us and keep on keepin' on.

Interesting aside, I noticed in the entry of the school on the announcement bulletin board, an advertisement for beginning Russian lessons, to be taught by none other than, you guessed it, One.

Try Again Tomorrow!

***update***

BoyTwo's day continued in a steady decline. He was sent to the principal's office a second time for throwing snow balls. He was asked three different times to stop and even lost recess privileges. This did not deter him. Being sent to the principal's office did not either, apparently. When I arrived at the school to pick him up, he said to me, 'mom! BoyTwo fantastic day!' Fantastic is the highest possible level he can achieve for good behavior. When I asked him about throwing snow and punching he assured me that it was big good job because nobody was crying. Later, at home, he hit my neighbor's dog with his coat because it's ok to hit if it isn't with your fist?! For the love, child! For the love!!!!!!!!

Today started off great! Tuesday is my one day at home alone with my four year old, my day off from school. I get to do laundry, clean bathrooms, run errands, etc. After not having the freedom to do these things (unless it was in the middle of the night) the past few months, I truly love and appreciate being a stay at home mom who gets to stay at home:)

At 10:30 I had a call from the school to come get one of my daughters who had thrown up. I hate those calls because I always worry that they will have done it in front of their class and will be embarrassed, as if feeling sick isn't bad enough:( Luckily, this one made it to the bathroom in time.

An hour later, I had another call from the school to come get another daughter who was feeling as though she was going to throw up and who 'just does not look well.'

While at the school picking her up, I decided to check on One and BoyTwo to be sure that they were feeling well (they are, phew). I entered the lunch room just in time to see BoyTwo being hauled off to the principal's office for punching a boy in the face.

GAH!!!!!!!!!

There is this sweet little boy who I have worked with at school before (a lot last year) who has some special needs. I do not know specifically what his special needs are, only that he has some. I know he has difficulties socializing. This is personal to me. I have two daughters who, while it may be mild, have difficulties socializing due to their own special needs on the autism spectrum.

BoyTwo punched this boy in the face because he was tapping him, trying to tell him hello and trying to ask him to play with him. It would be safe to say I wish BoyTwo had been punched in the face back. Do you know how many times a day BoyTwo taps people and is annoying?!

What happened to saying, 'hello,' or, 'please stop,' or 'I no play' or even just 'STOP!'? Let's face it, BoyTwo isn't exactly good at socializing either, which I know is ultimately why he did what he did. It still bugs big time that he punched someone. It only added fuel to the fire when I found out why. And my heart still hurts for the little boy who he hit.

His Many Ages

BoyTwo is almost eight years old, but inside that little body of his is a little baby who needs to be loved, a toddler who needs help learning the most basic of toddler tasks, a little boy who is beginning to want friends, and someone who thinks he is fifteen because of things he has seen and done.

I have a really hard time parenting this. I never know who he is. He can be three one minute, one the next and seven after that. Other times he thinks he is fifteen but he is really two. It makes my brain hurt sometimes. It's a horrid guessing game. He is a little ping pong ball pinging (literally, the child is a wee bit hyper) all over the spectrum of behaviors, emotions and ages.

It was easier to face each day when we hosted BoyTwo because I already loved him and I knew that my time with him was so short. He was on loan to me and I had precious little time with him to attempt to cover an entire six years of love and mothering before I had to return him.

A couple of days ago I read something on another blog that spelled it out for me. I am so sorry that I do not remember where I read it so that I could give credit where it is due. This woman is an answer to my months of praying about how to parent this child of mine. Basically, this is what she said,

"When I talk to him while I do regular, daily things, I talk to him as if he is his age. When I teach him, I teach him as I would a toddler. Very patiently and basically, with repetition and a little voice (you know that voice that you pull out when you tell your little kid 'look, it's a rainbow!'). When I love him, I do it with the tenderness and words that an infant would respond to."

People!! This is my how to! This is what he needs. This is what I needed to see to help me better understand what is happening and how to deal with it. I love and am so grateful that Heavenly Father answers prayers. I know that He knows each of my children perfectly and along with that knows what they need. I love that He knows my kids better than I do! It's so great to have that resource! I know that these children that have been entrusted to me are on loan from my Heavenly Father and that I have precious little time with them to love them and teach them. When I think of my time with them from this perspective, it changes how I feel about the 'daily grind'. It makes it easier to feel love toward them. It makes it easier to be patient with them. It makes it easier to bail them out of the principal's office, spoon feed them, and clean their pee off the floor, wall and toilet seat ten times a day:).

I know that Heavenly Father knows and loves His children so much. I am so grateful that He will help me out when I fall so short because I am His child, too.

Dairy Free Update/Boys Progress

Well, with mixed emotions, I am reporting on our 'dairy free diet'. This is day 3 and our symptoms have definitely lessened. For me, personally, I am glad that when I eat, my stomach doesn't get distended and that I don't have a lot of pain. My littles are happy that their stomachs don't hurt as bad anymore when they eat. We pathetically still miss and want our 'regular' diet back (ice cream. milk chocolate. cheese.). We do continue to have other symptoms, but it may take a few more days before we see notable improvements.

I am trying to adapt a few recipes and readjust mealtime and it is going okay. The cookies I made on day 1 were good enough. I tried banana bread today and while the little kids will all eat it, anyone over the age of ten thinks it tastes like card board, including me. haha. So, back to the drawing board for that one. We have found dairy free bread that tastes okay. And a butter and milk substitute that we are fairly happy with, but right now I want pizza! Or pretty much anything with cheese on it!!

******************

Quick change of subjects to the boys. I want to document their progress. I often fail to recognize, amidst the day to day struggles, how far they have come. Hopefully I can be more mindful of the sacrifices they have made in coming here to be with us.

Let's start with BoyTwo.

*he has grown. a lot. he eats like an ogre:) I need to measure and weigh him again, but when he first got here, the size 6 clothes I had for him were too long and way too big around the waist. Now, they are nearly floods and we've had to let out the waists.

*his feet have grown 1/2 shoe size.

*he can self feed now.

*he hardly ever swears.

*he has begun to speak English.

*he gives hugs and kisses.

*he doesn't always hit.

*he prays. in fact, he said the prayer at church on Sunday in the primary meeting.

*I only have to attend school with him about two days a week.

*he can count to 20 in both Russian and English (he could do this in Russian before).

*he recognizes almost all numbers 1-30 and can say them in Russian and English.

*he knows the names of his sisters.

*he is learning the names of his classmates.

*he knows the following shapes (he did not know this in Ukraine) star, oval, circle, square, triangle, rectangle

*he can almost write his name (English) without mistakes (he did not know how to write cyrillic)

*he knows the following letters, upper and lower case (he did not know any cyrillic letters), he can name them, write them and knows their sound:

s, m, c, b, a, t, i,

*he attends lunch and recess 90% of the time

*he can brush his own teeth

*he can ski. well.

*he can ride a bike.

*he can almost walk without watching his feet.

BoyOne:

*he has grown. again, I need to have him measured and weighed, but his feet have grown a whole shoe size, his once too big size 12-14 clothing now fits well.

*he agrees that negative numbers do exist.

*(this is big) he asked me to cut his hair last night and wanted it short. that's right folks. he has graduated from wanting the Ukrainian mullet. he even told me that it is 'no good in America.' haha

*he likes to read

*he wears deodorant regularly. i consider this a miracle. i really really really doubted that he would ever do this willingly, let alone on his own.

*he brushes his teeth when we ask without throwing a fit

*he can snowboard. well.

*he gets along with all of his sisters.

*he believes in God.

*he goes to church with us every Sunday willingly. he even wears the proper church attire. he even asked for a tie for Christmas!!

*he showers every day on his own and uses soap almost all the time!! anyone who has a child who comes from a background where this is not the norm will know how truly amazing this is.

*he is learning to write (as in composition)

*he wrote a report. first one ever.

*he does his chores (notice I did not say happily or without reminder, but hey, he's still a kid)

*he doesn't swear at me anymore.

*he doesn't want a purse anymore.

Really, that's pretty a pretty impressive list for both boys. Like I said, I need to be better about seeing their progress. Way to go boys. Rock on.

Ironic

Well, my happy, take-on-the-world (or son) attitude that I had when I wrote the last post quickly dissipated.

Like five seconds after seeing/dealing with BoyTwo.

He is such. a. handful.

We had a four day weekend and I took the girls and went down south (not to the south, but the southern part of our state) to visit my sister and go to a friend's baptism. The boys plan was to stay here for soccer games and practice and skiing and male bonding. I'm 99% certain that no dishes were done while I was gone or any laundry, but they had a good time and so did we. Somehow, though, while I was the one away from the house, I still managed to do three loads of laundry and make meals. Hmmm... A mother's work really IS never done:)

Last night BoyTwo had a meltdown because I asked him to put his shoes on. I know. I am such a mean, mean mom. After twenty minutes of him not listening or allowing me to help him, I told him we were leaving. You know, the old trick you play with your toddler. Well, even though he is almost 8, and he thinks he's 15, he's really still a toddler. I keep trying to tell myself this and to be patient, but some days it definitely works better than other days.

Long, drawn out, ridiculous story short, he said that he hated me and America and wanted to go back to Ukraine. So, I made him take off all his clothes and gave him back his rags that he came out of the orphanage in. I asked him if he wanted to give his toys to his sisters or brother, which he did. We all then told him good-bye and that we'd miss him. He finally started to cry a little, but only because he was going to miss his brother. BoyOne tried to reason with him, but he's not capable of being reasoned with. I asked him why he was crying and he said that he was going to miss his brother. I asked if he was certain he wanted to go back to Ukraine. He shrugged his shoulders. I told him we wanted him to stay and that we all loved him very much and that we would miss him, but that he could go back to Ukraine if he wanted. I told him that I would ask Larissa to be really nice to him. In the end he decided to stay.

What this showed me was:

1) he still doesn't understand that he's here to stay,

2) he has no attachment to anyone other than his brother (I'm glad he has his brother. It gives me hope that someday he'll attach to others),

3) he really needs more sleep.

**side note. one of my fears growing up, and I'll be honest, now, was that for some reason I would have to quit eating dairy. Then the unthinkable happened. By doctor's order over half of our family has been put on a dairy free diet. Luckily it's only for a couple of weeks while we figure out if this is the reason for some of the symptoms we are experiencing. When I told my girls that were being affected by this, they started to cry. lol. My feelings exactly. I'm happy to say that on day one I have already found and made a dairy free chocolate chip cookie recipe.

**side note 2, yesterday, for fifteen minutes, we had a weather advisory warning us that we would have severe snow storms in which we would accumulate two to three feet of snow. We were ecstatic! Then they cancelled it. But, now it's snowing, so hopefully they were wrong:) We need some snow in a bad way up here.

Beautiful Pictures

'Beautiful pictures are developed from negatives in a dark room...

So if you see darkness in your life, be reassured that a beautiful picture is being prepared.'

no, i did not come up with that on my own. yes, i may stalk pinterest at one in the morning.

This mama had a fabulous long weekend and is feeling good.

You'll Shoot Your Eye Out-or Worse!!

It's never a good idea to get behind in journaling. It's too hard to catch up.

Sunday we went to church. It was okay. I was in a foul mood. It was a day of fasting for us. In our church, the first Sunday of every month is dedicated to fasting and prayer. We discuss what we may want to fast and pray for in the days prior to fasting so that we have in our minds and hearts what our purpose is. We then donate the money we would have spent on food that day to our church's welfare program. We didn't fast on the first Sunday of January as it was a holiday and instead opted to fast this past Sunday. We do not force our children to fast. We do, however, strongly encourage it through sharing our own personal experiences with fasting and also by offering boring, bland food to those who are not fasting. Not as a punishment, but as their way of participating in the fast when they are unable (too young) or unwilling to do so. This way, I don't have to prepare any food. One and Two fast with us. Three will occasionally skip one meal for her fast. This month I was encouraging BoyOne to join us. He agreed and had a fabulous and motivating purpose of prayer.

But then, because he's never had to go without food (???), he couldn't even make it to noon and ate. I was bugged because of how it all went down. I won't go into details, but it was how it happened rather than the fact that it happened that bothered me.

At church, BoyTwo was his usual self. Loud. Obnoxious. Disrespectful. He asked if he could get a tattoo. He was serious. Most of the time when he is like this (which is pretty much always), I just deal with him and it's no sweat off my back, but this day, I was already in a foul mood and it became personal that he just couldn't be normal. I hear over and over that his behavior is typical of a hyperactive kindergartner which would be fine if he wasn't almost EIGHT!!!! Pull yourself together buddy for FIVE MINUTES!!! I had to take him out of class twice and out of the last meeting we have which is called sacrament meeting. And he sits on my lap during the last meeting because he is crazy!!!!

I will say that I had a little revelation during the Christmas break with BoyTwo. I was watching him eat, it's hard not to because it's such a disturbing thing to see, and I noticed that his eyes were wild. Crazed. I pulled him aside after he was finished eating and had his brother come over and translate for me. There are times, not very many, when I want to make sure that something is translated word for word. During these times I type what I want to say onto the online translator, copy and paste the translation onto a second translator to get it back to English so I can see that it really translated correctly and then have BoyOne read it, verbatim, to BoyTwo. What we discovered was that BoyTwo is still afraid that he will be hungry. He doesn't understand that he is here to stay. No matter what we said, no matter how much food we showed him, no matter what, the kid just doesn't understand. At first BoyOne thought I was ridiculous for asking BoyTwo about this and he scoffed at me. He was shocked to find out his brother had no concept of the idea that there is food in the refrigerator, in the pantry, at the grocery store, that they are living here. I believe that this is part of our troubles with BoyTwo. fyi, we do not withhold food from our children, nor do we use it as punishment or incentive. Just to be clear.

After church, we went to my sister's house. We celebrated her birthday, her husband's birthday, and my other sister's birthday:) Good times! My brother-in-law is an avid hunter. Avid. BoyTwo and BoyOne were mesmerized by all the antlers and trophy heads he has. My brother-in-law offered to show the kids how to shoot a bow and arrow. BoyTwo was the only one to take him up on the offer. It was really cold outside. Fast forward. BoyTwo really had fun. He wants to live with my sister and brother-in-law now. haha. The disturbing part of this for me was when he asked for a gun and a bow and arrow and Huz said, 'maybe for your birthday.'

WHAT?!????!!!!!

The kid can't even handle a freaking nerf gun!! We are sure as hell not giving him a firearm or any other sort of weapon! Huz wanted me to just go along with it, just to appease BoyTwo. This is where we differ often. I don't go along with what my kids want or want to do and then flake out later, or worse, follow through, just to appease them. Example. One wants an ipod touch. I told her I would not buy her one. I told her why. I also told her she could save up her own money for that purchase if she chose. I'm not going to say, 'maybe,' and not mean it! I would say maybe if I was considering it, but if I know from the get go that it is not going to happen, I let them know. So Huz and I had a little disagreement about BoyTwo being ready for a bow and arrow. BoyTwo asked when he could have a gun. I told him when he has his own house he can have a gun. Huz thought that was extreme. I told him that I did not want guns in our home. To each his own. This is weird because we don't even own a gun currently. I grew up around guns. My dad was an avid hunter. When in the right hands, guns are not a problem. I was shocked to find out that Huz was suddenly an advocate for gun ownership. He doesn't even hunt! Whatever. BoyTwo proceeded to tell us how he was going to KILL A PERSON with his gun. I told him he would be sent to prison, that this is not good in America (sometimes these things that are obvious to us are not obvious to them). He laughed and said that it is big good in Ukraine and that he wants to shoot a person. Niiiiiiiice. Thank you bio dad and the 'hood' of Zap.

There is SO much undoing to be done.

Christmas Catch-Up

Christmas was a fun day. Christmas Eve we went to my in-laws house in the afternoon. There the younger kids played games and decorated cookies for Santa and the older kids played ping pong and wii. We had dinner together as a family and it was a great way to get into the whole Christmas Eve hype. The kids also received their gift from Huz's parents.

Going into the whole holiday season, we were prepared for a wide array of emotions, both ours and all of the kids:) We knew that the whole celebration could set off some raw emotions and memories for the boys. We knew that they had some vision of what an American Christmas would look like, and unless we could read their minds, no matter how incredible it might be, it would not be what they had envisioned. We weren't sure how they would handle that. Our girls know how Christmas works at our house, so that was not a big deal. The trick with them was making sure that they understood that the boys may receive a couple more things than they were going to receive. This was for a couple of reasons: 1) the boys have nothing to play with. 2) the boys need age appropriate toys and younger age level toys. 3) we wanted them to have something from Ukraine. And us? Well, it's still hard, no matter how you try to prepare yourself, when you try your very best to provide a wonderful and memorable Christmas with the right balance of holiday hype and Jesus' birth and the kids don't respond well.

On Christmas Eve, our tradition is to give the kids either pajamas, slippers, or a bathrobe, along with a book. The idea is that they will put their pjs on and read their book and go to bed like sweet little angels. We may also give them melatonin to assist with that. We do not gift wrap the melatonin. Maybe we should though, and address that gift to Huz and Wif. hahaha.

This year the kids were each getting a pair of slippers. We knew this would be our first no win situation with BoyOne. All the girls were getting big fuzzy slippers that look like they are wearing stuffed animals on their feet. BoyTwo was getting a pair of Trans Former slippers. BoyOne wears a size 9 shoe. He is 14. He is a big boy, wanting to be a big boy, but still desperately needing to be a kid a lot of the time. Well, we couldn't find him any big, fuzzy, animal slippers, nor were we sure that he would want those. We opted to get him a pair of black house slippers similar to the pair Huz has that he is always 'borrowing'. We figured that no matter what we gave him, he would want the opposite, either because he wanted to be a 'kid' or because we were 'treating' him like a kid and he is a big kid. Make sense?

Side note, BoyOne and One participated in the wrapping of boxed gifts. This is one of the life skills that is on their list to pass off. BoyOne was darling during this time. He was sooooooo concerned about getting it absolutely. positively. perfect. He accidentally tore the wrapping paper about a 1/4 of an inch and after that refused to cut the paper, saying, 'I scary!!' Which translates into him saying he is too scared to do it. We talked about how if I did a crap job wrapping his gift, would he decide to not accept the gift, based on the wrapping paper? Heck no!! He would still want his gift. Besides, he did such a great job that it didn't even matter. He was stressing over centering the piece of tape horizontally between the two pieces of paper. Yeah. He is a perfectionist. It was so sweet. He told me he had never wrapped a gift before.

Back to Christmas Eve. BoyTwo was priceless!! The girls were pretty pumped, as they know what to expect. They, like me, are a little nerdy and love to get new books. They are also girls and therefore love to get any type of clothing or shoe. BoyTwo picked up on the enthusiasm and the poor kid could hardly stand the suspense. We let them all open their slippers first and at the same time. Each pair of slippers was inside a box. The girls ripped (literally) their boxes open to get to the loot. Huz and I were both watching BoyTwo, you know the whole first Christmas thing, and boy, was he a treat. He ripped the paper off his box, then in true Olympic form, jumped to his feet holding his box with both hands above his head and yelled, 'Yes! Yes! Yes!' That's right people. The kid thought he got a box. And he was thrilled. That was my favorite part of Christmas:) You can imagine how excited he was when he saw that he could actually OPEN the box and find something inside!

As we suspected, BoyOne was disappointed with his slippers. We explained that we are able to return them to the store and look for a different pair for him. Again, wishing I could post pictures. I have a priceless one of all six kids sitting on the couch together holding their new books, wearing their new slippers and big, huge, excited smiles. And then there is sourpuss on the end. It's pretty funny. I'm guessing that he was disappointed that he got boring slippers along with being disappointed with himself for being disappointed. Follow?

Christmas morning, fortunately, did not begin too early. Two was up first at 7 and she woke up BoyTwo because she saw he had received exactly what he had asked for from Santa. We made them come into our room until 8 when everyone else started to trickle down the stairs. I'm a mean mom and make everyone brush their teeth before going out. But really. They all like to sit on my lap and hug me and stand nose to nose when we talk and I about suffocate from all the bad breath if we don't make them brush first. All the kids received one toy from Santa, one toy from mom and dad, and a stocking which held fruit, mini m and ms, and the notorious nerf gun. The boys' stockings also included a little Lego kit thing to build a car and airplane and some matchbox cars. We also tried something new this year and gave them each an outfit and something 'active.' Their active gift was a tennis racket for each (Huz is a passionate tennis player) except Two who already has a racket. She got a basketball. The kids also each get $5 to spend at the dollar store where they buy a gift for each of their siblings. I'm not sure why we don't do all of our Christmas shopping at the dollar store as those random trinkets are often the prized present for the year. The kids were all happy with their gifts, with the exception of BoyOne who was not happy at all that in addition to his other gifts, he had received three more books.At first he wouldn't even open the books. He would hold it up, scowling, and say, 'This book. I book.' Translation, 'I know this is a book. You already gave me a book yesterday. Lame.' By the afternoon, he'd had time to think things through and was so sweet. He kept telling us thank you and then used the translator on the computer to type the following message:

'BoyTwo and I are very pleased with our gifts. Thank you mom and dad for Christmas.'

melt.

Inn Crowd or Stable Person?

I have mixed feelings about Christmastime. I like that everyone gets all lovey and giving and happy and peace-on-earthy, but seriously, why can't that happen all year long??? Why do we wait for November and December to roll around to give food to the food bank and to smile at everyone we pass on the street? Also, I have a problem with the hoards of gifts that we buy and give and the gifting for the sake of gifting that takes place. I feel like a really big hypocrite this time of year. Really, that's what it boils down to. This year was no exception. I don't feel like I do a very good job of making Christmas as much about the birth of Christ as I could/need to/should. I feel like instead of being one of those few who made it to the stable to see Jesus, I am one of those from the Inn crowd who was there when it all happened, but because of my having the advantage (so we think) of having room and board and comfort (nice house, physical needs met) at the Inn, I missed the whole dang thing! And to no one's fault but my own.

I can't stop thinking about the kids at Matviivka. That's the orphanage that the boys came from. BoyOne was telling me how some of his friends were wishing him a Merry Christmas the other day and he told them that in America, it had already been Christmas. In Ukraine, Christmas is celebrated on January 7 and for the twelve days after. On the twelfth day of this celebration is when good ol' Father Frost, Deed Moroze, or Santa as we know him, drops in. I rather like that schedule. Or at least like the sentiment of it. It sounds like it would be great.

Anyhow, back to Matviivka. BoyOne was asked by his friends if he liked Christmas in America. He, of course, told them yes. At the internat, they get to sleep in until 9 and get two pieces of candy. Those fortunate enough to have a living relative may have a visitor on that day who may bring them a piece of fruit, or some dried fish and a small (as in smaaaall) gift. The end. So, of course Christmas here was better than there. And while I am happy for the boys to have had a fun and great Christmas, I am most happy that they are HERE!!! They have a family! We have them! They are warm, clothed, fed, educated, safe, and loved. Hallelujah!! I wasn't sure if we were going to ever get them here back in September and not a day goes by that I am not thankful for this miracle.

With that joy and happiness, though, comes the haunting reminder of the stark contrast of the kids who we left behind.

Pasha. I would post a picture if I could. Pasha was one of the older boys that we became friends with. He was sixteen and on his way out at the end of the summer. How sickening is that? I first met him when I was sitting inside the entrance of the orphanage waiting by myself. I said hello to him and he nodded back at me. I liked him from the get go. He reminded me of a kid I used to work with back in the day when I was paid with money for working. I tried to give him a chupas chupe (dum dum sucker). He wouldn't take it. I knew he wanted it. I mean seriously, even the orphanage care givers were all sitting outside on the benches eating them, so I knew he wanted one. When Yana, my translator, came back to me, I asked her to give him one. Sometimes the kids would take stuff from her if they were too embarrassed to take it from me. He refused and she told me it was because he thought that suckers were for little children and he was a big boy. That made me laugh and I unwrapped a sucker for him and practically shoved it in his mouth and indicated for him to bite off the stick so that nobody would see that he was eating such a childish candy. After that I made a point to always find him and give him some of whatever treat I had brought to pass out. He was also on the soccer team. We got to spend time with him while we were there. He was a good kid.

When I returned to Ukraine in July and the kids were all at camp, I saw Pasha again. He was sitting alone on a bench near the entrance of the camp. I sat near him and we talked, best we could, for a few minutes while Yana 'checked us in' (remember the Hitler-ish camp director??). I gave him a couple bananas and a drink and remember thinking he looked even more solemn than usual. When I headed to the boys' cabin, Pasha insisted on carrying my bags for me. That was the last time I saw him.

I didn't know that would be the last time I would see him. I didn't know that I wouldn't see most of those boys again. I'm not sure what I thought. I know I had hoped to be able to help a few of them who I knew were leaving the orphanage, but when I came back they were already gone. I was glad that Pasha was at camp. I think I assumed that meant he would go back to the internat for another year (sometimes when they are sixteen, if they are doing well in school, they can stay and try to pass an exam that would get them into college-this is very rare). I also know that I wasn't thinking very clearly that time... There were a lot of not so good things going on.

When I went back in September, he was gone. He had to leave to go to trade school. I asked around and nobody really knew where he, or a few others I was trying to find, had gone. Just 'to trade school.' Nobody knew which one or where or if he was okay or anything. That's what happens. They just disappear. They are just gone. The end. That's it.

So while we were opening presents this year and taking pictures and eating food and sitting in our nice warm house surrounded with family and friends, my thoughts and prayers were with Pasha and all the others like him in the world (including here, in America). I sat in the Inn wishing I was at the Stable, yet not really knowing how to make that happen or what to do about it.

I love this quote from the book Mary Did You Know, by Mark Lowry,

"I'll tell you whom I feel sorry for-all the people in the motel who missed it. They were there! They were in the same time period. They didn't have to learn of this event 2000 years after the fact, like we did. While they were lying in their beds, trying to get some rest... they missed it! They could have walked right out to the stable and witnessed the coming of the Messiah!... But they were too busy with the mundane to notice the eternal."

While they were fortunate enough to be in the same time period, we are equally as blessed to have the knowledge of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, today! How truly amazing is that?! This year my goal is to not be so busy with the mundane that I do not notice the eternal. I am trying to remember to be a Stable person, to leave the comforts of the Inn and take the path to the Stable. As I try to visit the Savior at the Stable, I know that He will help me to know what to do and how to be one of those Stable people. That won't be the hard part. The hard part will be to actually leave the Inn! It is really easy to get busy at the Inn, what with attending first grade every day, doing church 'stuff', running to extra-curriculars, trying to teach kids educational and musical things, laundry, dishes, and that darn meal time that happens three times a day! Sheesh!! Sometimes, the problem is not that we are guests at the Inn, but that we are the Innkeepers!! Wish me luck in my quest. I'm going to need it:)