What's Really Going On

Several months ago, BoyTwo was officially diagnosed with FAS.  Although I already knew that this was most likely what he was dealing with, I felt like I had been slapped in the face when I was told.  I was surprised at how sad I felt for him.  I know that he will continue to progress, at his own rate, I know that people with FAS can be successful, I know all of that.  I'm also aware of a lot of the statistics associated with FAS and those remain my concerns.  I'm scared for him.  It's tricky, you see.  BoyTwo is likely going to need assistance forever.  This may be in the form of someone helping him budget, grocery shopping with or for him, someone living with him.  He's going to need somebody to be his exterior brain.  This person will largely be responsible for helping him with his executive functioning (or lack there of).  He will need to be able to trust someone enough to rely on them.  Which gives us our next hurdle: teaching someone with attachment difficulties to trust.  The irony of it all.  It's just one giant circle of FAS causing other difficulties in his life. 

I was mad at his bio mom for a minute.  And then I just felt sad for her, too.  

This school year is going well for him.  He is in special ed/resource/whatever the current politically correct terminology for that class is at the moment for half of his day.  During the other half, he has pull outs for reading and his own personal aide comes in with him to do his work.  His behavior has come a long way.  His teacher has been great to work with and works so well with him.  I did my usual 'BoyTwo Training' for all those who would be working with him at the beginning of the year and that seems to have really helped.  

It's hard to watch the already large gap between him and his peers continue to widen.  I see little spurts of growth from time to time where something will click and that gives us all hope:)  My heart hurts for him because his peers are also getting old enough to see how different he is and while they are still very kind to him and extremely tolerant of his behaviors, this year there is a much different feeling between them all.  He doesn't really notice that he doesn't have any friends or that he is so different than others and I guess I'm grateful for that.  He does have one little friend.  Our neighbor who is four years his junior.  

I continue to spend much of my time at the school.  I started an art program and that has been really fun for me to do.  I  do a lesson for half the school one week and the other half of the school gets it the next week. We are learning about master artists, composers and authors.  I love introducing the students to these fascinating people, many of whom struggled with identity, learning disabilities and misfortune of their own.  I love the life lesson it provides to persevere, have faith in one's self, and to not be afraid to try.  I also come up with an art project to go along with each lesson and that has been... a huge learning curve.  I'm not at all artistic and as a child I hated art during school.  It caused me enormous stress to not be able to perfectly recreate the assigned project and to not be able to make my hands produce what my mind was envisioning.  One of my first lessons this year was about Picasso who has said that you cannot create a masterpiece without first making a mistake (or something along those lines.  I don't want to look up the actual quote).  I encourage the kids to not erase, but to make each seeming mistake into a work of art, to add interest to the piece and beauty and originality.  See how it's so much like real life?  

This semester I have homeschooled One part-time.  She comes home every day after lunch.  I have loved this time with her while she still likes me and thinks I know something:)  I love that we can personalize her curriculum and have one on one time together that we otherwise would not have.

Four has taken to reading like a whiz and this mama is so so so grateful.  After having four of my other kids with reading/learning disabilities, it is a blessing to see her take joy in reading and learning and to not struggle with it.  I love when she comes to me with a book in her hand and asks me to listen to her read.  It is the highlight of my day!

BoyOne is a sophomore in high school this year.  In our state this means it is also his first year at high school.  (Don't ask, I have no idea.  I didn't grow up here and I think it is so weird.  You're a freshman in high school but you don't actually go to high school.  Makes a ton of sense.)  Without getting to personal, it's not really working out for him for a lot of reasons.  As his parents, we are needing to adjust what our goals for his education are.  What was once a priority is not a realistic option without sacrificing an actual education.  We are in the process of making decisions that will be agreeable to both him and us.  I feel the added pressure of lack of time with him.  He turned 16 in September.  Shortly after his birthday he approached me and asked me where I thought he would be if he was still in Ukraine.  Then he told me about how different his life would have been had he remained.  It was good for me to hear because I've been feeling like the progress here has not been quite what I had hoped for and that perhaps we had failed him.    

Two and Three are doing well.  School is a challenge for them both and that weighs heavily on my mind constantly.  They work so hard at everything they do.  As I often tell them, they will be blessed by learning to work hard.

I am so grateful that I am their mother and that I get to be the one to journey through this life with them.  I'm immensely grateful that I have the opportunity to be a stay at home mom ( although whoever thought to call it that was smoking crack because what stay at home mom is actually ever home?!).  This gives me the opportunity to be ever present and available to them when they need help.  One of my biggest concerns this past year or so has been the lack of time I have with my kids before they leave my home.  I have tried to spend more time talking with them about eternal things, incorporating more heaven into our house than ever before.  I'm not magically more patient, we aren't magically getting along at all times and my kids haven't magically turned into scriptorians, but at the end of the day there is a feeling of love and peace that abides in our home.  Right now that is my number one goal.

Happy, Busy Spring

Lack of posts does not necessarily mean lack of events to document.  As for most of us, lack of posts or communication means serious lack of time.

Three had an endoscopy a week or so ago and we found out that she has something called eosinophilic esophagitis and eosinophilic duodenitis.  Very basically, as far as I understand, this is an allergic reaction resulting in eosinophils (a type of white blood cell that fights off infections.  Different problems can cause high numbers of eosinophils such as allergies.  When there are too many in the body, it may be and in our case is an eosinophilic disorder.) within the esophagus and duodenum which is causing all of her problems.  Her GI believes that this is what is affecting all of us and we feel that because we are not a severe case, we can achieve good health through food eliminations.  We are wheat free, dairy free, peanut free and egg free.  Over the past three months we have noticed some significant changes in our health.  One used to get migraines (since she was four), nosebleeds (every day) and has done physical therapy for joint pain.  These things have stopped.  Two, Three and Four have all had major stomach problems (think grass green diarrhea 10 times a day), stomach pains and cramps, nausea and vomiting, and serious leg pain (I haven't slept through the night ONCE since One was born (except if I've been out of town w/o the kids.  Think Ukraine).  That's 12 years people.).  They wake up in the middle of the night screaming with pain that we treat with tylenol and/or advil and heat and massage.  If I had not experienced these same pains growing up, I would not understand.  We were told it was growing pains, although all four girls are in the 10th percentile for height and weight.  Leg pain has stopped, stomach problems have ended.  Just out of curiosity, I fed them wheat three different times over a three week period.  Each time these symptoms recurred.  When I asked the GI about this, wondering if a stomach allergy could in fact affect the rest of the body this way, she told me 'the proof is in the pudding.  Obviously wheat is like poison to your body.  When you ingest these foods it results in an allergic reaction that initiates in your esophagus and gut but that effects the rest of your body.  Everyone's bodies are effected differently, you are finding out how your body is effected.'  So that's that.  It's good to know.  

Our day starts at 5:25 a.m. which I realize is probably fairly typical for the rest of the world.  However, when you don't go to bed until 1:30 a.m., it quite sucks.  BoyOne goes to a football conditioning class at the high school.  He's what we call 'over-committed' at the moment, but at his choosing.  As his parents, we decided this was a great life lesson for him.  We counseled him, he chose to ignore us (because we're just his parents, what do we know:)) and now he is committed to A LOT.  After the first day of all of his many activities, he wanted to back out of all of them.  We sympathized with him as to how tired he must be and then reminded him of his commitments by showing him the contracts he had signed to be on the various teams he had joined.  Anyhow, on to the rest of the day and week.

The rest of the kids are up at 7:30 a.m. and out the door at 8:30.  Sometimes, like today, we get to squeeze in a trip to the grocery store in that hour because we're out of almond milk and our already limited choices for breakfast are basically non-existant without that main ingredient.   

I still spend quite a bit of time at the elementary, but this year I don't have to be in BoyTwo's classroom at all times.  It's sufficient for me to be in the school.  If there's a big problem, they can get me.  If there's a little problem, I usually have a little suspicion rise in me and can simply walk down the hall and happen to run into Mr. Trouble.  I'm super happy that he's much less violent this year, but really wish he could get through the day without throwing a tantrum, being sent to the principal's office or losing a recess.  Those three things tend to happen every day, not just one of them each day.  Just to keep it real, last week he was sent to the principal's office four times, threw a tantrum at school each day, missed three of his recesses, was removed from an assembly, tried to start the neighbor's playset on fire, broke all of their matchbox cars they had received for Easter (he smashed them with a stick into smithereens.  He smashed them into a railroad tie so hard that we could not even remove the pieces.  If you didn't know what they were before you saw the pieces, you wouldn't be able to tell.  He did this while I was in the bathroom, so what, maybe five minutes?), broke a picture frame, stole three different times from three different people...  You get the picture.  

After school, we hit the ground running.  

Monday:   BoyOne has baseball

                 One has dance

Tuesday:  BoyOne has a baseball game, then soccer game

                 One has dance

                 Two has tumbling

Wednesday:  BoyOne has baseball

                      Two, Three and Four have dance, all at different times, of course:)

                      BoyOne, One, Two and BoyTwo have church activities this night

Thursday:  BoyOne has his away baseball game, then an away soccer game

                  One, Two, Three, Four and BoyTwo have tumbling

Friday:  BoyOne has his track meets

             One has dance

Just to recap, BoyOne is participating in football conditioning, baseball, soccer and track.  It is kicking his butt.  We are happy that he is having to listen to direction from several other people at the same time.  He has a difficult time taking direction from anyone and tends to think that whomever his current coach is is a tyrant.  While we readily acknowledge he is over-committed, it's been good for him to have these four things going on at the same time so that he can see which coach really is a tyrant and who is not and that all have similar expectations.  I'm not sure where this mentality comes from, but he tends to think he is king of all sports and everyone else is a pathetic loser.  This has been a humbling experience for him, in a good way.  He is realizing that while he is very gifted athletically, he still has to put forth effort and train hard and still might not be the best.  Instead of motivating him to try harder though (I do know where this mentality comes from), he tries to back out and quit (this is where the contracts come into play).  He has learned to persevere (thanks to his stubborn mother) and that with consistent and determined effort, he can progress (thanks to his coaches).  He is getting stronger and much more healthy.  It's a good change in him.  

School is still a fairly significant struggle for four of my kids, which weighs heavily on me.  Although, and perhaps because, they are in public schools, I feel largely responsibe for ensuring they progress in their education.  I look forward to summer when I can have our own curriculum and structure.  We tend  to make leaps and bounds during the summer months academically and generally the kids return to school in the fall caught up.  With the exception of BoyTwo who will more than likely move at his own pace indefinitely.  He does progress more in the summer than during the school year though, both academically and behaviorally.   

Life is good and busy and we are all still here. 

Catch Up in Six

I've started this post five different times over the past week or so.  

FIRST  THINGS  FIRST

New Year's was fun.  This is the first year in twelve years that we haven't had a baby in the house which means we didn't need to be quiet!  One was at a friend's house to ring in the new year, a first for her (not being with us for the celebration).  We kept the other kids awake and entertained by playing games with them. Then, as the countdown began, I passed out pots and pans and when it was officially the new year, we cheered and made a lot of noise.  The kids loved this and so did we.  It was especially great because immediately after, they were all ready for bed, something that never happens around here.

With the New Year comes resolutions.  I love setting goals and checking them off.  It feels really good, especially because it seems that I am forever stuck on the same day that never seems to end (and I do mean that with all the love in my heart).  Each year we (I) take individual time with the kids to help them set a few goals (six actually.  in the following areas: home & family, spiritual, social & community, exercise & physical fitness, learning and education, and talents, interests & hobbies).  While I most definitely suggest some, I let them come up with and decide on their own goals.  (i.e. memorize the states and capitals in order of statehood vs. break the world record for the most back hand springs in a row; guess which was my idea)  

Because I have about a million things that I need to improve on, I'll only share with you two that involve my interactions with my children and which I feel are the most important for me at this time.

1) tuck my kids in at night.  I used to always be the one to tuck them in.  Huz has taken that over the past two years for me, but I felt that I ought to take it up again as there aren't that many years left before I won't have anyone to tuck in anymore:(

2) 'That they might know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent.' John 17:3  I want to make sure that my kids know that this is the most important thing I want them to learn.  More important than doing their jobs, getting a good education, learning to be self-sufficient.  I believe that if they can really know and understand and have a relationship with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ, the rest will happen, too.

SECOND

BoyTwo's 'new deal' didn't last very long.  I would have liked to see it continue on, but he had some 'encouraging' and 'decided' that he was ready to do jobs again.  He did make it to one church service in his pjs.  I think he had originally thought that the other children from our congregation would think this hilarious, he didn't get from them the response he had hoped for and this had a lot to do with him changing his mind.  He has since said to me several times over the past week, 'Mom, remember when I say I didn't want to do jobs and I stay in my pajamas in my room?'  me, 'yep.'  him, 'that was crazy.' like it was years ago instead of days ago.

THIRD

A year ago, because of health problems that all the females in our family were experiencing, we went dairy free (casein free) on the advice of our family doctor.  It was life changing for us and, as a former, and honestly current, ice cream addict, I don't say this lightly.  Interestingly, while it significantly improved our health, it also positively impacted BoyTwo's behavior.  While only slightly, we will take any and all improvements that we can:)  

Fast forward to now, a year later, we are still having some health problems, with Three being the most symptomatic.  Soooo, I took her to our new (much more geographically close) doctor wondering if she was anemic or what.  Doctor said, 'let's do a blood test and check for anemia and for some allergies.'  Because I'm not the sharpest tool in the shed, I said, 'oh.  okay.  We do have dogs and a cat.'  Hello.  She was talking food allergies.  Anyhow.  Last week when I got home from second grade one afternoon, there was a message on our machine from the doctor's office asking me to call back about the blood draw.  I knew something had shown up because otherwise they would have said that everything looked fine, no need to call back.  When I did get ahold of them, they told me that Three had tested positive for allergies to, drumroll please, wheat, eggs, and peanuts.  Please remember that we are already dairy free.  

WHAT IN HEAVEN'S NAME ARE WE SUPPOSED TO EAT?!

They also advised me to take her to an allergist who confirmed her allergies but added that they were not life-threatening but that we may not want to get any flu shots because they contain egg.  Did you know that?!  The allergist advised us to do a trial elimination diet which is what we did with dairy a year ago.  I've decided that going dairy free a year ago was a huge blessing in disguise.  We literally cried about having to give up dairy but have managed quite nicely.  I have been able to recreate all of my recipes or find new ones that we like just as well.  We are eating much more healthily and feel much better.  Still, I was shocked to find out about these allergies.  Shocked enough that I said to the doctor, 'But we have some sort of food with egg in it nearly every day!' to which she replied, 'that's probably why she is sick every day.'  Oh, right.  Duh.  Anyhow.  This past week while I've waited for our allergist appointment, I decided to not go crazy and throw away my food storage and drive 2 hours to the nearest health food/gluten free store to grocery shop.  Instead, I've scoured the internet looking for recipes and reading, reading, reading.  Pretty much it sucks.  Or at least it sucks right now.  I've decided that you really either need wheat or dairy in your life to make it even sort of easy to find something tasty to eat.  This opinion is based on the experimenting I've done this past week and the epic fails that have taken place.  We have had a couple (literally two) successes, so it's not all a loss.  I am sort of hopeful that with the elimination diet we'll find that wheat isn't really that problematic or eggs (but I'm really hoping that wheat will work out for us).  But, if it doesn't, we'll adjust because let me tell you: If we can go dairy free, we can do anything!!  (except get BoyTwo to behave at school:))

In case you don't know what an elimination diet is, let me tell you.  You very strictly eliminate one allergen from your diet for at least two weeks.  With the dairy we did a solid month.  Then, you reintroduce that allergen to your diet and see how your body reacts, or doesn't.  If it does, then you know your culprit.  If you don't react, you're safe to go back.  With the dairy trial, we didn't eat anything with any sort of milk product in it.  On day 32 we all ate ice cream and proceeded to get sick.  This is how we knew it was dairy.  Hopeful that it may have been lactose, we bought lactose pills and tried to eat ice cream again.  No go.  It's the casein.

FOURTH

Here's the biggest news for the day.  BoyTwo was approved for special education services.  It took having the district supervisor for our school district come to test him and then her supervisor to approve him, but in the end, he qualified.  Everyone agreed that he needed it.  He even had the scores to show that he did.  The problem was that there was serious concern that 'someone' could claim these low scores were due to him not being completely proficient in the English language, so there were a lot of extra little hoops to jump through.  I'm really excited for him.  I'm really grateful to the school for pushing for it as much as they did and for advocating for him.  I'm hoping that this will help him in a number of ways.  I think that the smaller classroom setting will be hugely beneficial.  At our school special ed is what we used to call resource.  The kids are pulled out once or twice a day to a different classroom to receive much more help and in depth practice of basic concepts.  There is also a 3 students:1 teacher ratio.  He will continue to receive his ELL services, along with reading intervention and private lunches.  

FIFTH

I have had some great talks with BoyOne recently.  I would highly encourage anyone to figure out how to cut their children's hair.  You wouldn't believe the talks we have while I'm cutting their hair.  Maybe it's because they don't have to look directly at me or something.  I don't know.  

SIXTH

I haven't blogged about the boys' one year anniversary yet.  I haven't been able to emotionally.  There are way too many feelings that I can't deal with all at once.  At least not yet.  There is just too much loss associated with it.  It may sound odd, I know.  It was a great gain for us, personally, to finally have the boys with us and I am SO, SO grateful.  Please, don't misunderstand that.  There is just so much other loss.  Recently, I read a post by a blog friend that adopted shortly after we did from the same region.  She was commemorating their one year anniversary.  There were pictures of places I had been, streets I had walked, etc.  And oh my gosh.  The thing that got to me the very most was her pictures of leaving the orphanage.  Thinking of all those who are left behind.  That's what keeps me up at night.  Thinking about my kids and His.  

The Gray Hair and Other Random Stories

First off, to be clear, there is definitely more than one gray hair.  And it's not gray.  It's white.  I skipped right past gray and beautiful silver and started growing me some great-granny hairs.  Fortunately (?!) I'm not graying in any one particular area, but quite randomly and all over, but I won't/can't complain because my sisters would kill me. :)

Back to the story.  A couple weeks ago at church, BoyTwo suddenly gasped (quite irreverently) and stared at me, mouth gaping.  He looked truly shocked so I asked him what the matter was.  He replied,

'Mom.  You have a gray hair!'

To which I smiled, slightly amused, and said, 

'BoyTwo, I have LOTS of gray hairs.'

Sadly, he actually looked a little distraught.  In the end I discovered that he saw gray hair as a sign of aging (don't we all...) and was concerned that I may not be around forever to take care of him!  Did you all grasp the magnitude of that???  In his state of shock, he revealed to me (in a round about sort of way) that he was planning on me being around to take care of him forever.  Not only that but was upset at the idea that this may not be the case!  Huge, people.  Huge.

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

Recently, when Huz delivered a store-bought tin of cookies to take as a holiday treat to a neighbor, said neighbor commented to him that she remembered back when we first moved in and how his wife (me) used to bake treats to bring to the neighbors.  hahahahaha

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Sickness is going around which is a bit of a bummer, but inevitable and I'd rather get it over while the kids are in school than have them be sick during the holiday break.  Two weeks ago it was me, followed by BoyTwo, followed by One, followed by Three, followed by (and currently) BoyOne (who had to be comforted today because he thought that if he was sick he would simply MISS Christmas.  How sad is that?!  But I guess in an orphanage, if you are sick and at the 'hospital' for Christmas, you just miss getting your two pieces of chocolate and extra piece of fruit and then the day is over and done and you've missed it.  He was relieved to find out that in a family, even if you are sick and in the hospital-which he is not, you would still get Christmas.), Two and Four.  Huz never gets sick.  Seriously.  He's never had strep throat or an ear infection (according to him.  I should check this with his mother).  The one time in our nearly 15 years of marriage that he ever had the stomach flu, he threw up three times and went to play basketball for four hours.  So, we're not really worried about him.

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

a text I just found that I sent to Huz recently:

'your daughters are farting to warm their butts'

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

Huz is about to begin construction of his man house in the backyard.  The girls are EMOTIONAL!!  It's quite entertaining if you can stand the volume (both sound and quantity).  Examples:

from one unnamed daughter to another:

'You are the bossiest kid in the whole world!'

which resulted in bossiest kid in the whole world running into the bathroom, slamming the door and sobbing for 45 minutes.

example 2:

'Great!  I think Santa's going to put me on the naughty list because I called ______ the i word!' followed by complete and utter devastation manifested in unconsolable tears. (on the upside this provided a great learning moment and discussion about saying sorry and asking forgiveness)

*by the way, the i word is idiot for those of you who, like myself, have no idea what the i word is*

example 3:

I recently had 'the talk' with one of my daughters.  And by 'the talk' I mean the one about the jolly red fellow who has a magic sled that flies through the sky and then manages to fit down everyone's chimney in one night bearing gifts for all.   I also recently had 'the talk' with another daughter and by 'the talk' this time I mean how she and other babies came to be.  Both talks ended with each child saying the same thing, disgustedly:  'What?!  Are you kidding me?!  You and dad do that?!'  lol.

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Because a post wouldn't be a post without a couple BoyTwo stories, here you go:

Last night, BoyTwo forgot how to eat.  I made sloppy joes (which I know sounds super disgusting, but it is a family favorite and everyone who tries them is truly surprised.  in a good way.  season and brown 2 lbs ground turkey with some onions, add a bunch of ketchup, 1/4 c water, 1/4 c brown sugar, 2 t worcestershire sauce, and some chili powder.  mix it all together and add more of whatever it needs.  it's good.  i promise.  and quick and easy and we have it at least every 10 days) and he could. not. figure out how to eat it.  First he sat and poked it with his finger while his mouth hanging open as if he expected that the mere act of poking one's food would catapult it up into his mouth.  After about ten minutes of this, he picked it up at the very top (remember, these are SLOPPY joes??) and shook the insides out the bottom, again with his mouth hanging open as if he expected the food to fall out and up into his mouth instead of out and onto his plate, table, floor and self.  He then proceeded to pull it apart, or as I told Huz, who was fortunate enough to miss this blessed event, mutilated it.  All the while his siblings could hardly handle themselves or refrain from giving him the attention (although negative, he does not care, attention is attention) he was hoping for.  At one point I caught him watching me with a smug smile on his face.  When he saw that I was looking at him, he hurried and changed his expression to confusion and began poking his food again.  

I know, I know.  Take the plate away.  But I actually think he was trying to get me to do that this time, so I didn't.  He was trying to push buttons and it was SO obvious.  Finally, as we began to clear the table, he shoved, literally, the sandwich in his mouth in three bites.  Gross.  Then he got to clean up the mess he had made.  I was annoyed and so was he.  I because I seriously cannot figure out how and why in the world he comes up with these random games (maybe that's a poor choice of words, but it's what comes to mind each time something like this happens), and he because he was so hungry, had wasted time trying to control us (not sure if it was me or his siblings he was after or all of us), ended up eating a very cold favorite dinner of his, had to clean up his disgusto mess, and didn't get the reaction he was looking for.

and from today:

He got to school at nine and when I arrived back at the school at 10:45, his teacher had a 'sad' story to tell me.  She says sad when it's something that he did that wasn't terrible but that resulted in a consequence.  Evidently, he had been kicking the chair of the girl in front of him, and happened to kick her a few times.  When he wouldn't stop, she went to get help from the teacher.  Teacher removed him. When she began to speak to him about school work, he promptly covered his ears and glared at her, so she gave him two options.  1) uncover your ears or 2) go to the office.  He chose the office.

Which I thought worked out perfectly because he was only punishing himself, only he has this one figured out because once he got to the office (I later found out) he told them that he had become embarrassed in class and had come here for a break.  So, not quite a consequence.

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Huge thanks to the dialogue of comments from the last post.  I checked out the resources suggested and they are great!  Sometimes it helps to just know that there are other people out there that have kids with 'invisible' problems or disabilities and that there are others out there who can offer hope. 

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Last, but not least, I do believe that BoyTwo is recognizing within himself, somewhere, that he is becoming attached and has expectations of us that are positive and it's freaking him out a little bit which manifests itself in quite lovely behavior.  It's okay.  We can take it.  Sometimes (okay, frequently) I may need to vent, but we can do it, Huz and I.  We can trust that somewhere, beyond the behavior and the little boy who has been so hurt and left to his own devices for too many years, there is a little boy that God knows and is familiar with.  A little boy that He has a plan for and that He made in His image.  While I'm here, I might as well mention that I don't have a perfect faith.  I wish I did.  It's really more like I can't see how in the world this is all going to end up pretty, but I'm willing to believe that it can and to trust in Heavenly Father and Jesus that it will because, frankly, They've never let me down before.  I wish that every time Mr. Crazy came to play, I could remain calm and unfazed, serene and loving ON THE INSIDE (I do a pretty decent job of portraying this on the outside, but often I'm like 'what the crap?!' in my mind).  I wish that I could see the end result.  Right now.  So that I knew where and when the end was and how it would all work out.  But that's not really how it works, is it?  I believe that the outcome is only part of the test.  The other part?  How you GET to the outcome.    

Number of Days

422 - number of days the boys have been home

420 - number of days before BoyTwo told us he loved us

2,579 - number of days before I found out that Three couldn't understand what we were saying to her

2592 - number of days before I realized/understood that Three couldn't/can't understand what we are saying to her

3,309 - number of days before I realized that Two possibly has CAPD, too  (she's 9 so that's why this # is so much larger than Three's.  It was actually only 3 days after Three was diagnosed)

********

Every morning when the kids wake up, we tell them good morning and that we love them.  Then before they leave for school, we tell them again.  When I drop them off at school, as they jump out of the car, we say 'I love you!' again.  During their day at school, I usually see one or more of them (because let's face it, with five kids at the elementary, I still practically live there:)), as we part I say it again.  We say it after we pray together.  After we brush their teeth and send them upstairs to await being tucked in, we say it again.  On the final tuck in (is there really such a thing??) we express our love to them.  If they get off their beds they are sent back (or escorted back) with an 'I love you!'.  Sometimes these 'I love you's are accompanied by us telling them something specific that we love about them, or listing several reasons why we love them.  Five of the six kids always answer back, 

'I love you, too!!'  Two days ago, after brushing BoyTwo's teeth, I sent him up to his bed to wait for a tuck in.  'K, BoyTwo, I'll be up in a few minutes to tuck you in.  I love you!'  And holycrap, 420 days and approximately 2,100 times later, the kid answered back,

'I love you, too!'

Huz and I were brushing different kids at separate sinks in the bathroom and both of us stopped, looked up and did the whole, 'did he just say what I think he said?', 'did you just hear that?'.  

Now, lest you think that hell froze over, this week, particularly the past few days, have been quite... rough.  That's a pretty nice way of putting it.  After really classic bad behavior, and a series of 'loving consequences', I tucked BoyTwo into bed tonight.  As I scooted the covers away from his face (he often buries his face and then I have to 'find' him, you know the game you play with your two year old) to 'look' for him, I noticed the sober look on his face.  Then, what to my wondering eyes should appear but a tear, out the corner of his eye.

Now, BoyTwo definitely cries, but his cries are usually raging cries, hateful cries where you can see in his face that he is wanting to rip the skin off your face and eat it.  This cry was different.  He was tender.

And then it hit me.  He had opened up to us on a whole new level (saying 'I love you') and was now testing us (bad behavior past few days) and was feeling sadness that I had been disappointed with the things that he had done!

Just to underscore the magnitude of this verbal expression of feelings, BoyTwo denies up and down that he loves his brother (whom we know without a shadow of a doubt he does in fact love) and according to the both of them, has never expressed this feeling to anyone.  In fact, one time I had tried to get him to verbalize his feelings for his brother, hoping that it would help him to recognize and put a name to that feeling that he had toward his brother.  He would. not. say. the. word. love.  He actually started to hyperventilate when I suggested that he loved BoyOne.  But, now this!

Hallelujah!!  The child can feel!!!  

*******

Still trying to sort through the whole CAPD thing.  As I read about CAPD (over and over and over into the wee hours of the morning) I see indicators or 'red flags' that may indicate that your child (or you) may have CAPD.  Every time I see that list, I don't see Three, I see Two.  Over and over.  Oh, how I hope I'm wrong.  Two has SPD and is actually the reason I first heard about CAPD years ago.  I thought she, possibly, could have this.  However, the 'red flags' for CAPD didn't encompass the sensory 'issues' she has.  And there's a lot of them.  So, when she was diagnosed with SPD, I basically forgot all about CAPD.  Until now.  Until I realized that I have been mentioning to Huz and her teacher how I'm concerned that she is not comprehending well.  Until I realized how many times a day she says 'huh?' and 'what?'.  Until I remembered the blank stares, her very delayed language progress, her serious difficulties with reading, rhyming, spelling, word confusion and substitution, etc.  

One thing that I was told that would help Three was to speak slower.  It would allow her more time to process what she was hearing.  I really thought that didn't apply to me.  As her mother, I have never once heard her indicate that she could not understand what I was saying.  She's never mentioned that she couldn't understand me.  Because of the SPD, a lot of the parenting things we do in our house are similar to those things you do for CAPD and ELL kids.  I have been thinking for a few days that I ought to try slowing down my speech.  Part of me wasn't going to try it because I really felt that as a mother, I would have known/noticed that this was something I needed to do.  I hadn't noticed a need.  Didn't think I needed to try.

Tonight, as I began read to Three and Four (BoyTwo is usually with us but was already in bed-see above section), I humbled myself and decided to try speaking quite slowly.  To be very honest, I felt like I was reading at a ridiculously slow pace.  We read half of what we usually did in the same amount of time.  When I finished, I turned to Three and asked if she liked the new way I was reading or if she wanted me to keep reading how I usually do.

"The new way."

Bad mommy.  I closed my eyes and then said, 

"I'm sorry I usually talk so fast!  I didn't realize you didn't understand me."

She said, "It's okay mom."

I love their immediate forgiveness and love.  She continued, 

"That's why I don't answer questions when we read scriptures (we read scripture together every morning.  Well, One or I read, the others listen as they can't read).  I can't understand you or Savanna."

Oh my holy crap.  Bad bad mommy!  (I'm not looking for anyone to reassure me that I'm not a bad mommy, it's just the immediate thought I had when this happened.  It's a natural feeling, I think, to realize you have unintentionally failed your child)  This poor child.  Then the whole movie thing happens where you flashback to twenty different scenes and replay them in your head in a matter of a millisecond.  I thought of all the 'labels' she had been given.  Shy.  Quiet.  Withdrawn.  Not attentive.  Difficulty keeping up with classwork.  Well, duh.  She seemed shy, quiet and withdrawn because she couldn't tell what was going on.  I remember being in Ukraine, hanging out with a bunch of Russian speaking adults.  I could have easily been tagged as all of those things.  Not attentive.  Difficulty keeping up with classwork.  Well, yeah.  When you can't tell what anyone is saying, you can't exactly follow along.  

Hugs.  Kisses.  Again.  Tuck in.  More 'I love yous'.  Go downstairs to read with Two who is waiting patiently on my bed with her book.  We have this great system.  She reads, I read.  This helps her a ton as she tires when she reads.  She has a hard time comprehending.  She, through much effort on her part and mine, has become a good reader.  In fact she tested really well, being able to read at a 6th grade level.  Comprehension?  Nope.  Below her current grade level (3rd grade).  She has learned to compensate.  She taught herself to read well and quickly.  People just have no idea that she doesn't know what in the world is being said.  (except her teachers and myself who notice this.  it's kept her safe from feeling alienated from classmates)

When it was my turn to read, I read my section slooooowly, as I had done with Three.  When I was done, I asked Two if she liked the new way I was reading or if it was too slow and did she want me to read my usual way.  She, too, liked the slower reading.  I told her that I know I read fast and that I was sorry that I hadn't asked her before.  She told me it was okay and that she thought it was better to have me read slow because then she could understand what was going on (in the book) and maybe we could all talk slower, too, so she could understand.

For reals?!  For reals.  I had no. idea.  

I'm sure you've heard of 'Fast Talker' and 'Soft Talker' and 'Loud Talker'.  Let me introduce myself to you,  

"Hello, I am now s.l.o.w.  t.a.l.k.e.r."

Thank You Pioneers

What?!  Two posts in one day?  

I'm feeling brave.  I'm feeling like I can/should share some of my thoughts and feelings that I have been keeping on the dl.  And, because I can't seem to ever cut to the chase, this'll probably be long.  oh well.

So, I had this little epiphany back in July.  My state was settled by pioneers.  They went through a lot of crap to get here and, let's be honest, I've always wondered how they really felt when they got here.  No offense to the natives (as in those who have lived here forever, not Native Americans), because truly there are some fabulously beautiful parts of this state, but I've often looked around and imagined what this vast desert land looked like upon arrival.  One of the hikes I took my kids on this summer threw this all together for me.  The first part of the hike was ok.  Not as beautiful as our other hikes, but not awful.  Then there was a steep uphill and we ended up on this little plateau-ish (look at me using my 9th grade science skills) area that was pretty blah.  Sage brush, dust, cacti and more sage.  Gag.  My kids were like, 'this looks like the middle of the desert!' and I was like 'newsflash, we live in the middle of a desert.'  haha.  Anyhow, this was one of those moments where I had one of my little imagining moments.

I pictured myself coming over the crest of a steep mountain, hands and feet frost bitten, half starved, having lost several members of my family, having left behind all of my material possessions, having barely survived the terror of mobs and the absolute freezing cold elements that Mother Nature provided us with.  I imagined my heart beginning to race with excitement at the thought of finally, FINALLY, being able to see where I would be able to live and believe in the faith that I had without persecution.  The place that God had promised.  A place to be safe.  The place that my family would call home.  It's like a scene from a movie.

And then the guy in front of me moves out of my line of vision and the dramatic/happy music playing in my head screeches to a halt and I start blinking rapidly trying to make my eyes adjust to what I am hoping I am not seeing just as I hear a loud voice exclaim, 'This is the place!'

I'm pretty sure I wasn't a pioneer because 1) I would have never survived, 2) my attitude would have really sucked, 3) oh ye of little faith?  that's me.  Back to my imaginary scene.

'This is the place!'

I think I would've said with a big, fake smile,

'I'm sorry.  I just hallucinated!  I thought I heard you say this is the place.'  

and then, when I had been reassured that I had indeed heard correctly, I'm pretty sure I would've gone a little ape and possibly said something along the lines of 'This?!  This is the place?!  You have got. to be kidding me.  What have I done?  What have I done?  What am I going to do?  How much do I really believe in what I proclaim to believe in?'  Probably a little bit disappointed and possibly a tad panicked.  It was a desert with a lake filled with unusable salt water, for Pete's sake!!  I would've probably thought, 'I'm supposed to farm this?!  I went through all THAT to get HERE?!'

But I've never heard any stories like that!  I always read historic accounts and journal entries saying how blessed the people felt and how grateful they were to be here in this beautiful land (really pretty now, but pretty sure most of the trees weren't there when the pioneers arrived.  Just sayin').  I've always wondered if there were any like me who were trying to act happy and excited who, when night finally fell, cried themselves to sleep because they were so scared at the reality of this new home.

*light bulb!*

(and this all came to me in a milli-second)

And I heard those words again, with different inflection and no tone of hysteria,

'I went through all that to get here.'

As in:

1) if it hadn't been so hard to get here, I probably would not have truly been grateful for or appreciated this place,

2) there is a reason we go through the things that we do.  Regardless of the trial being caused by bad luck, bad decisions (ours or others), or whatever you want to blame it on, I believe that our Heavenly Father will follow us down whatever road we are on and use the situation we are in to bring us closer to him.  

Relative to Stephanie:

1) if it hadn't been so hard to get THEM here, I probably would not be truly grateful for them or appreciate the miracle that they are and the miracle that they are here,

and

2) Heavenly Father knew that this next part was going to be really hard.  Like really hard, guys.  He needed to know that I had it in me to fight for them to get here so that once they were here I could continue to fight for them in ways I hadn't anticipated.  He knew that I needed to see miracles happen and witness heaven moving earth so that there would be no way I could doubt that it was meant to be.  I've never doubted once or wondered if we really did the right thing.  I've always known.  Because of what we went through and the miracles we witnessed.

You know the other really great thing about the whole pioneer analogy?  Well, I'll tell you what would have happened next if I had been a pioneer so that you can sort of know where I may be at.

I probably would have been bummed (to put it mildly) but realized that for the sake of my family I needed to put on my big girl panties and get to work so that we didn't all die.  And I would've worked really hard and really long and honestly, cried myself to sleep a few more nights, at least.  And every time I had to plow that ground and plant more seeds hoping that something would grow so that we wouldn't all starve, I would remember the miracles that took place in order for me to get here and it would keep me going. I would remember that if I did my part, even if it was just going through the motions, He would do His.  It probably would've been rough at first.  Winters here can be harsh and remember, we came here with absolutely nothing.  I would've been able to harvest just barely enough food to survive off of.  I would've, unfortunately, at times lost patience and been mad that it was so hard to get a new life here started.  I'd have been bugged that there wasn't a single tree here except the ones that I had planted and man, were they taking a loooong time to grow.  Would they even make it???  Is it possible that they could or would ever even offer shade or fruits or beauty???  Then one day, while I would be out working in the field, I would happen to look up and see that those trees were finally starting to grow and while they were a long ways off from having fruit or offering shade (because really, I started with a half dead twig I'd been lucky enough to find along the way, not even a healthy seed!), they hadn't died yet!  And then rushing through my mind would be an image of this desert valley as it is now and I would think, 'wow!  This is going to be really beautiful some day!'

To go along with my pioneer theme, here's a picture of the cutest pioneer known to man (taken about 3 years ago):

Seriously though, did that not just make your day?!

There is Hope

I'm getting used to this new blogging set up and there are actually a few things I like about it.  I guess old dogs CAN learn new tricks:)

As you read earlier this week, BoyTwo lost (forcefully removed) his tooth.  He received $2.  Tooth fairy always gives $2 for the first tooth and then a dollar for every tooth after that.  It works well for our family except when the tooth fairy is really tired and forgets to come or sometimes she forgets to actually get a dollar bill (sad, I know, that we don't just have those laying around...haha)

Tuesday at school there was this little 'mini store' where things are sold for $1.  There are a million things for sale and they are all geared toward Mother's and Father's Day gifts.  I wasn't planning on having my kids take any of their money to school to buy us anything because quite honestly I thought that I didn't want one more thing laying around the house and I'd rather them save their dollars for their 'big ticket items.'  Each kiddo is saving their money for something 'big' like a scooter or i-pod (One and Two have been saving for a year and a half for this one, impressive), stuffed animal or skateboard.

Unbeknownst to me, BoyTwo took his Tooth Fairy money to school with him that day.  When he discovered that his sister, Three, who is in his same school class, was without money, he gave her one of his precious dollars and then spent the other dollar on a gift for me.

Is that not the sweetest, most heart warming, full of hope for mankind story you've heard in awhile?  

"The" Post and "The" Some Pictures

BoyTwo's newest word is 'the'. Every time he gets hooked on a new word, we hear it all. the. time. Now, the word 'the' is not really new to him, I think he has been receiving some instruction in his ELL class on how to use it, which in turn is transferring into ALWAYS using it.

During prayer: "thank you for the mom. thank you for the dad. thank you for the BoyOne. thank you for the One. thank you for the Two. thank you for the BoyTwo. thank you for the Three. Thank you for the Four. thank you for the teacher. thank you for the Vwheelbur (wilbur our rabbit). thank you for the Lady (dog). thank you for the _______. You fill in the blank. Just make sure you say 'the' before it.

or how about:

'Mom, I see the BoyTwo!' translation, Mom, watch me!

'Mom, I say you me the good day?' translation, Mom, ask me if I had a good day.

'Mom, where is the pop?' translation, where is Dad?

Oh, isn't it so cute?! I'm liking this 'the' thing a whole lot better than the 'who is this?'

I'm pretty excited to have figured out that I can email myself pictures from my cell phone and then down load them to the blog. Here are a few that I pulled from the past few months. I'll keep adding some as I find them:)

this is what BoyOne does during his English Lit class. Notice how the board says 'please don't touch or write on this board.' This is one reason why I have had the pleasure of attending junior high recently with my son.

One, Four, my sister Shalyce, Three, Two during our recent visit to her neck of the woods. She curled everybody's hair for them and they looked so cute! We hope to visit again soon.

This is Four wearing vampire teeth. The funny part of this picture is that she used dry erase marker to draw on her head and face, it is days after Halloween, and those are someone else's vampire teeth. ew. But, she is cute, so I guess it's ok.

This is Four, Two, Three, One posing as lionesses on the red rock of southern Utah.

And this one? Well, it's clear back from Halloween evening!

BoyOne (robot), Two (girl pirate), One (Hermione), Three (green witch), Four (copycat, I mean green witch), BoyOne (who knows what I'm supposed to call this but he LOVED his costume until the fake blood broke and stopped spewing)

Tantrum Progress

BoyOne had a tantrum on Monday evening. This hasn't happened to this extent for quite some time. We were caught off guard because his behavior has been so much more what we originally expected it to be like and also the reason for the tantrum was just plain ridiculous.

We have a dinner table that seats eight. There are eight of us. Perfect. We do not have assigned seats. I believe that this gives the kids freedom to choose where they want to sit, and me freedom to choose where they are going to sit :). Plus, it's nice to shake things up a little every night in a not so crazy way.

For the past four months, BoyOne has HAD to sit at the exact same seat for every meal. While annoying, we have just let it slide for the most part. Monday night I asked him to sit at the other side of the table because one of his little sisters wanted to sit by him. Holy freak out! I decided that this was not worth the tantrum, so I offered him his other seat back saying that he could sit here tonight, but reminded him that he would not always be able to sit in that very seat. Now, it is beyond me why this one seat is so attractive to him. It makes no sense. He very grumpily moved back to his coveted seat, but proceeded to flip out again when he saw that he was sitting in between two sisters. Weirdness #1, people, we are a predominantly female household. He is always sitting by at least one girl and even at times two. He started yelling and stomping around and I told him to sit his butt down and stop yelling.

him: 'I no sit here. I no this chair.'

me: 'sit down or go to bed.'

He sat. This alone shows how much progress he has made. At this point sister was crying (she's four) because he had made it pretty obvious that he did not want to be by her and her feelings were hurt. Weirdness #2, I'm pretty sure that this is his favorite sister, so why he suddenly did not want her by him is another mystery.

He continued to escalate and the mood at the table deteriorated rapidly. He was about to get two choices. I told him to look at me while I talked to him, which he did. This is another amazing example of how far he has come! Eye contact for these kids is pretty much non-existent in the beginning and is a difficult skill to learn. I did have to remind him about 19 times during our one minute conversation, but he complied and that is huge! Option 1, I told him that if he wanted to behave like this, he would need to leave the table until he could be nice. We wanted to have fun during dinner and did not want him ruining it for all of us. He would be able to dine by himself later. Option 2 was that he could change his attitude and eat with the family. He chose to go upstairs to his room!! This was hilarious! The boy is so stubborn! We were eating one of his favorite meals and I know he was way hungry, but he would not humble himself enough to be decent to anyone. So, off to his bedroom he stomped, slamming doors and yelling in Russian, while the rest of us enjoyed dinner together.

After dinner we had a family game night that he did not attempt to join. However, right as we were kneeling down for family prayer, BoyOne came down to join us. We were kind of surprised. Evidence yet again of how far this boy has come! On his own accord, he chose to join the family for our prayer and group hug. I was impressed. I also figured I would continue to reign as Most Stubborn Member of the Household. After prayer, we asked him if he wanted to eat his dinner. He refused! Okay, so maybe he is still trying to steal my title:)

Weirdness #3, his refusing to eat dinner hurt no one but himself. Why did he choose to do this?! I don't understand. Whatever. Maybe he was subconsciously punishing himself? We even set his plate in the refrigerator and told him that he could change his mind and come eat at any time. The plate is still in the fridge. (by the way, why do we spell 'refrigerator' without a d, but 'fridge' with a d? This is really confusing to kids. I know because I just corrected a bunch of spelling tests and half of them got this word wrong.)

When I tucked him in that night, I made sure to let him know how proud we are of him for all of his progress. The mere fact that he made eye contact with me when I asked was fairly earth shattering and I wanted him to know how much I appreciated him doing that even when he was mad. He is a very good boy and his behavior has come so very far. If you don't know what I'm talking about, go back and read, say, every entry from when we were in Ukraine... I love him and am so thankful that he is my son. I can't imagine life without him. Either of them. I can't believe that they've only been here a little over four months. It seems like they have been with us forever and that is a good way to feel!