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.  

Thankful

My house is quiet.  It is late and everyone is sleeping.  I am baking.  

(I decided to bake desserts after all:))

The pumpkin dessert is in the oven baking, the pie crust is awaiting the oven, the brownies (yeah, I know, not your traditional turkey day indulgence, but I'm trying to provide a dairy free option) are waiting their turn for the oven also, the vegetables for the stuffing are prepped and in the fridge.  The laundry is getting caught up.  The bathrooms are clean, the house is (fairly) clean.  During this quiet time when there is no school tomorrow to be worrying about, no presentation to be preparing for, no 'pressing matters' to occupy my mind, my mind and heart are able to wander, to think freely.  

I think about BoyOne and BoyTwo and the amazing progress they have made here, in a family, our family.  I am overwhelmed by this miraculous transformation that is taking place in them physically, spiritually, emotionally, mentally, and the equally as miraculous transformations that are taking place in the rest of us for opening our hearts to them.  

Right now, while BoyTwo is comfortably sleeping, all cozied up in a warm bed with his little stuffed animals and pillow and blanket, I can easily see the innocent child that he is.  His disabilities become invisible to me and the trials these disabilities present every day seem far away.  This is a rare occasion, sadly.  I wish he could have been here his whole life.  I wish I could have protected him from the effects of the lifestyle he was thrown into both prenatally and as an infant and toddler.  I wish that his whole life didn't have to be so difficult.  Even here, it is difficult for him.  Learning a new language.  Not being able to trust.  Still wondering about having enough to eat.  I wish I could make it all go away for him.

I remember all the people in Ukraine who had given up on BoyTwo.  At the age of 7!!  I don't judge them at all as I did initially.  If anything, I have far more respect for them and the difficult job they face of trying to teach and train and raise children in less than desirable circumstances, with very few resources.  Have they heard of FAS?  Do they have any idea about learning disabilities?  My word, they don't even understand physical disabilities.  Can you imagine the frustration they have trying to teach these children who appear to be 'normal' but cannot learn?  Can you imagine the irritation they feel when day after long day the child appears to be not listening or trying?  What about the outright defiance they have to endure?  I can empathize with them over this.  I have lived with it for the past year.  I have been spit on, sworn at, called names, hit, bit, had things thrown at me, etc., by one child!  Many times each of these things happened every day, day after day.  The orphanage the boys came from had nearly 300 children living there!  Can you imagine having multiple children doing this to you, day after day, year after year?!

I think of my (biological) little girls who have their own struggles, of the fight it has been, here in a free country with a surplus of knowledge and resources, to try to understand them and to find the help for them that they need.  I see them try so very hard every. single. day and still not understand what they are being taught and struggle to fit in.  What would have become of them if they had been the orphan in Ukraine?  It makes me sick to my stomach to think about what might have happened to Two, who, as an infant, literally cried hours and hours each day.  She couldn't tolerate most of the formulas we tried to supplement with and couldn't even tolerate rice cereal until she was 10 months old.  People.  She didn't even sleep longer than an hour at a time until she was 10 months old.  Even in the night.  She was completely nonverbal, no cooing, ahhing or utterance, until she was 1 1/2, except for when she was screaming bloody murder. She had a very difficult time making eye contact.  She couldn't hear well because of constant ear infections.  She was very small and grew slowly.  I can't imagine that with so many children needing attention, someone being able to sit with her for hours and hours, holding her and working with her, insisting on eye contact.  I can't imagine that there would have been anyone who would have been able, even if they wanted, to feed her one ounce of a bottle every hour and hold her until it had digested enough that she wouldn't throw most of it up.  Would someone have been able to take the time to learn sign language so that they could then teach her sign language so she could begin to communicate?  I'm not sure, but I imagine that babies like this are probably sent to separate orphanages for babies and young children with special needs.  Sometimes, at these orphanages, if they are lucky, they are treated well.  Sometimes, they aren't lucky and they lay in beds or cribs all day, every day, year after year.  After this, I know what happens.  When they turn 7 they are sent to a mental institution with people ages 7 on through adult.  Their circumstances are dire.  

What would happen to Three?  She looks normal, but would appear to be defiant because she does not listen.  We know that she is listening but does not understand what she is being told.  They would not know this.  They wouldn't understand this.  Would her orphanage staff had given up on her, deeming her unable to learn?

Tonight I am so grateful that I am their mom.  I am so grateful for each of my six children.  I am grateful that they are here with me, under my roof, within my reach.  I am so grateful to my Heavenly Father for blessing me with the resources and insight I need to see my children for who they are and who they have the potential to become.  I am so grateful that I know of Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.  I am so grateful that I know that I can ask Them for help and for strength and for forgiveness.  I am so grateful that They know my children, and me, our needs, strengths, and weaknesses and how to overcome them through Them.  I am really grateful that I have been blessed with a simple and quick faith.  I am grateful for prayer.  I am grateful for the relationship I have with my Heavenly Father and Savior.  I am grateful for their unfailing, perfect love.

With this gratitude and thankful heart, there is the flip side, and I wonder and worry about all the other misunderstood children in the world.  

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?!

Fun Weekend

...and Monday.  It was a fun day, too.

I have some GREAT pictures, but I either don't have or can't find a USB cord for my camera.  It's on the never ending list of things to do.  But I promise, as soon as I find it, I'll put them up.  

Saturday was fabulous.  We started the day by cleaning the house and then cleaning the church.  BoyOne threw a tantrum there because he had made plans to 'play' with one of his friends and was quite upset that he wouldn't be able to do that.  This is actually something that we are having a hard time with lately.  He will often make plans or invite people over without asking and it really, really bugs.  Generally we are pretty easy going and already have a houseful, so what's a few more, but he is way too comfortable assuming things.  Even though that was an annoyance early in the day, he shaped up pretty quick (probably because he had a crazed mother chasing him down the hall telling him he had better drop his crappy attitude), apologized and the rest of the day really was great.  Huz and the kids have found a rope swing at the lake and we think we're just about the only ones who know about it.  We had some of our friends come up Saturday afternoon and we took them to our little spot.  The kids and dads had a great time flying off the swing and into the cold lake.  The moms had a great time watching this craziness and documenting it with the camera.  

These are friends who we know through hosting and adoption.  I actually was able to be in Ukraine with the mom and she basically saved my life (my heart) by letting me tag along with her as she took her boys to Kyiv and had their medicals and visas done.  I even got to stay with them, train with them and go to the airport with them.  We were on different flights, but she got me there.  This was all after I had found out BoyTwo had a second birth certificate and we weren't going to be able to adopt him.  Still can't believe all that happened.  Go back to July 2011 for that fun.  Anyhow, love their family.

Sunday was Father's Day and we had a nice day.  BoyOne had a little bit of a tantrum and was a total turd to Huz, which really ticked me off.  Huz is probably the least confrontational person I know and he hardly ever gets mad or makes any of the kids do anything (anybody else married to a Disney parent?:)), so I felt that BoyOne was absolutely, positively, completely out of line.  It was over the stupidest thing, too.  Anyhow, aside from that, the day ended well and we had dinner with Huz's family at his parents' home.

Monday we went back to the lake.  I'm pretty sure that my kids think that I am incapable of doing anything fun or remotely active, given the comments they make:

'Mom, you're coming with us?  Can you even hike?' (when leaving to go on a family hike)

'Mom, you know how to run?!' (when I had to chase BoyTwo, many times, down the street barefoot and robed as he tried to make some sort of escape)

'What?!  You can ride a bike?!'  (when I was showing the boys how to ride)

'Mom, I'll teach you how to ski.'  (obviously forgetting that I taught every one of them how to ski)

'Mom, is it safe for you to jump on the tramp?'  (seriously?!  This mama can still do a back flip with a twist.  Come on kids!)

'Mom, do you know how to swim?' (I don't like to get in the cold water.  Yes, I'm a wuss.  However, I can swim and I am always prepared to go in after someone if it becomes necessary which it usually does.  At least in the past years.  Saturday and Monday this was not the case.  It was nice to stay dry and warm)

'Mom, have fun making dinner and cleaning while we're _________.'  (fill in the blank with just about anything, as if I'm going to send them off to have fun and stay behind to play housekeeper/maid)

Anyhow, I decided to shock the crap out of the boys (and the girls) by interrupting their game of keep away by tackling BoyOne in the lake and getting the ball from him.  Unfortunately I am slowing down because although he was super shocked (as were his friends) that I could take down my son, swim, play ball, run and get in the cold water with my clothes on (had my suit on underneath but didn't have time to change because that would've been a dead give away), he quickly recovered and pulled me back down.  I surprised him again by grabbing him by his swimming trunks and swinging him around and back down into the water.  He thought it was hilarious and has recounted the story many times in the past 24 hours.

Other events worth mentioning are:

*BoyOne was laying down in the shallow water after losing the ball and his friend ran after Huz, who now had the ball.  Friend didn't see BoyOne and literally ran on top of him, face and all, pushing his face down into the murky sandy water.  As BoyOne says, 'and I my nose big sand!'  (filled his face with sand)  It was sooo funny to watch, glad he didn't get hurt.

*Saturday Four was on the swing to swing, not bail into the lake and at the last second did bail, only she was not over the water but the sand:(  She got hurt and was pretty sad but seems to be fine now.

*Monday Three lost her grip on the rope swing while swinging and fell onto the sand.  While originally we thought she may have twisted her ankle, she says it feels much better today.

*BoyTwo attended a tumbling class today.  Three and Two are already taking a class at this same time so I decided to see if we could target some of his energy/wear him out.  He did alright.  I only had to walk onto the floor once to reprimand him for sassing his coach, but after that the whole thing where you point to your eyes and then to them totally worked and he (mostly) behaved.  And he's in bed asleep now, so it worked, right?!  :)

*One, Two, and Three can all beat BoyTwo when arm wrestling and for some reason he keeps coming back for more.  I, drumroll please, can beat BoyOne (righthanded.  He wins lefty).  Thank you for your applause.

A Realization

here's a link to a website that has a bunch of articles and info on FAS/FAE/FASD, etc.

http://come-over.to/FASCRC/articles.htm

**warning. loooooooooooong.**

The hardest part of blogging for me is coming up with post titles. Not sure why, just is.

I read a comment about exotropia. Have you ever heard of it? I hadn't! Until I googled it and realized I just didn't know the correct name for it. In response to that comment, it's an interesting thought that we'll have to check out. Three had her vision tested before Kindergarten and checked out all clear. I don't see any physical signs of this, but as there are varying degrees of exotropia, and in some cases it is not constant, I think it is worth checking out! Thanks for the tip!

Next item of business. I am a bit suspicious that BoyTwo has Fetal Alcohol Syndrome, FAS, or perhaps Fetal Alcohol Effects, FAE. There are some obvious reasons I suspect this (admitted prenatal drinking) and some other behavioral things I have noticed. It is not listed on any documentation that we have from the orphanage or from the adoption itself. I do not in any way think that the orphanage or the adoption agency we used were trying to pull a fast one on us by not telling us, either. FAS is a legitimate concern for children that are from Eastern European countries. Not all children have FAS just because they are orphans, but at the same time, it is not a rarity to find this disability among the children either.

When we hosted the boys, I was head over heals in love with them both. I had read a TON and talked to a ton of people and stalked a ton of blogs. We were pretty prepared for our time with them then. He was definitely young for his age (unfortunately not as young as I discovered once we were home, surprise!), but I didn't notice anything that concerned me too much. During our first trip to Ukraine, it was SOOOOOOOOO crazy and emotional, I think if BoyTwo had lost a limb I may not have noticed, so I'm certain I didn't see anything that concerned me then, either.

On our two subsequent trips to Ukraine, both of which I was alone during the majority of the time, I began to notice some things about BoyTwo and his behaviors, coupled with reports I was hearing from his teacher and caregivers and director and bio parents that definitely made me start to wonder if FAS was a real possibility for our little boy. I began to casually find out what I could about FAS, I mean Zap was totally exciting, but I had a lot of down time in my blue apartment:) I was trying to educate myself so that I could be in a position to understand what was going on, if anything, and be able to help him. And me.

My translator/facilitator in Kyiv was a women who has spent a lot of time at special needs orphanages, has worked with many special needs kids, has seen a lot of FAS, and has facilitated a lot of adoptions. She also spent a fair amount of time with us in Kyiv. The day before we left Ukraine, I asked her for her honest opinion regarding BoyTwo and FAS. I emphasized that I recognized that this was an opinion, that I knew she wasn't a doctor, that it would not change anything regarding the adoption, etc. I wanted her to feel like she could be honest with me. She told me, "Maybe." And that it was difficult to know and that I would have to watch him to see how he was progressing and have an American doctor help me. She also said that it was possible. I feel like she was being honest and fair with me. There were a lot of things that pointed in that direction and that still do. We have not taken BoyTwo to be professionally evaluated. I hope to do this sometime in the nearish future. I have a friend who has a son she suspected to have FAS/FAE and she took him to be evaluated six months after arriving home and the neuropsychologist was very hesitant to make a formal diagnosis based on the lack of language along with the major transitions that had and were still taking place. This is why we are waiting a little longer.

In the meantime, I read here and there, mostly stuff from websites that pop up when I google FAS, and I occasionally hear something via a blog. What I am finding out it that it is very complex. (duh) Moreso than I thought. There's a great little article titled The Visible Kid with the Invisible Disability that I will link, as soon as I figure out how to, that describes FAS pretty well. Tonight, I'd like to share with you an experience we had yesterday.

Yesterday afternoon, BoyTwo came to me tearfully. He is rarely emotional (unless severe hyperactivity is an emotion) and so I was concerned. His English is so great that he can tell me nearly anything he needs to. He is still learning to converse (think 2 year old not being able to carry on a conversation not for lack of words but lack of ability), but he does pretty well with Huz and BoyOne and me. He told me that his 'eraser' (really a pencil grip) he had won from school had been stolen by BoyOne. I was a bit suspicious because, seriously, how lame is a pencil grip? And how much more lame is it to steal one? So, I asked him to describe to me what happened.

BoyTwo was playing with his pencil grip yesterday morning. All the kids were watching cartoons (a serious rarity at our house, like not even once a month). BoyOne saw the pencil grip and asked to see it. BoyTwo handed it to him. BoyOne put the pencil grip in his mouth and began chewing it. BoyTwo got upset and asked for it back. BoyOne got mad and threatened to beat BoyTwo if he told us about this. BoyOne did not give the pencil grip back.

I was mad. During the hosting and during all of our trips to Ukraine, BoyOne would take things from BoyTwo that he wanted with the threat of physical punishment if he was not obeyed. We saw him follow through with his threats (of course we would stop it). When they came to America, this happened for about the first month, with each incident becoming fewer and farther between. Certainly there is still the sibling bickering that can occur, but nothing I would call bullying or abuse. BoyOne has been a joy. A definite stinker at times, but I often joke that I could take ten of him because he is so 'textbook' for lack of a better word. So, I was mad that he had done this. I was mad and sad that he for whatever reason had reverted back to this behavior. In a house where he is the oldest of six children, it concerned me. He was at a friend's house. I called him and asked him to come home. He came right home.

When he came in (Huz was home yesterday because originally we were to go out of town, but ended up not going, but he had taken the day off and decided to spend it with us anyhow, yay!), Huz and I were both in the kitchen with BoyTwo waiting for him. I went up to him and got in his face like I have seen him do to others (again, this was way in the past) and asked him why he was being mean to BoyTwo, why was he talking to him like this? Where was the 'eraser'?

This is so impressive. (Not me, him) He immediately recognized what I was talking about and that I was trying to show him how he was treating his brother. He said sorry to all of us, keeping calm this whole time, and then told us that BoyTwo was lying.

To make a looooooong post less long, here is the real story:

The kids were watching t.v. BoyTwo had his 'eraser'. BoyOne asked to see it and asked what it was. BoyTwo told him it was gum and that he could eat it. BoyOne put it in his mouth, quickly realizing that it was not gum. This is when he got mad at BoyTwo for lying to him and then laughing at him. BoyTwo told him that he was going to tell mom and dad that BoyOne stole his 'eraser' and was being 'scary' and this is when BoyOne said that he would beat BoyTwo if he told that lie. BoyOne then took the 'eraser' out of his mouth and threw it at BoyTwo who proceeded to flush it down the toilet. Fast forward to five hours later.

BoyTwo could. not. remember. He had absolutely no memory of this. He argued that BoyOne was lying and that he still had it in his mouth. At this point, Huz and I could tell that something was not quite right. There was no way BoyOne was making this jazz up. You know how you can tell when your kids are lying? He wasn't lying. BoyTwo insisted that his brother had the 'eraser' in his mouth! BoyOne even opened his mouth to prove to BoyTwo that he was not eating the 'eraser'. BoyOne then took BoyTwo on a very complete and thorough re-creation of the entire event. Huz and I followed right along. In the last scene, we all went into the bathroom together, BoyOne lifted the toilet lid, acted out throwing the eraser in. BoyOne continued on to flush the toilet and this, THIS moment, was when we saw BoyTwo remember what had really happened. To end the reenactment, BoyOne closed the lid (don't be jealous, he doesn't always do this). BoyTwo turned red and looked very embarrassed.

Then it hit me. This was FAS.

I was reminded of a blog post that I had read from a woman who has a daughter with FAS. This daughter had wrapped Christmas gifts and written 'to mom' 'love, her name' on them. Later that day, she saw the gifts under the tree with her name on them. The mom tried to tell the daughter that she had just wrapped them to give to the mom and even showed her how she had written that on them. In the end, it took this daughter unwrapping the gifts for her to be able to remember what had really happened. And she was embarrassed. Just like BoyTwo.

I apologized to BoyOne for getting in his face and he, very graciously, accepted my apology and even apologized to Huz and BoyTwo and me for getting in BoyTwo's face earlier. He commented that BoyTwo 'no remember every day.' He is right. It makes me wonder how often he is forgetting stuff like this. I know for a fact that he does lie and manipulate and sometimes tries to get others in trouble, but it certainly made me stop and think. It made me really hurt for this little guy. It made me wonder how many times a day he is confused and obstinate and ornery because he cannot remember what is happening or what he is supposed to do. How affected is he? Is this truly FAS/FAE? What does his future hold? Statistically, if it is FAS/FAE, it's not the brightest of futures, here or in Ukraine. That is a lot to think about. I always thought that if we could somehow, someday get the boys to America, we would be able to give them the opportunity to have a better future than had they remained in Ukraine. Simple enough to achieve, I thought. Now I'm not so sure. All because of alcohol. It makes me mad. It makes me mad that this was repeated. And it makes me feel bad that she was/is in such a bad place that she could not make herself stop drinking. :( siiigh.

So, to wrap things up, if you know of any good FAS/FAE resources, I'm open for suggestions. I do realize that it will be most helpful to consult with a professional regarding this matter, but like I said, we have made the decision to wait a few months longer. In the mean time, I'm willing to read, read, read.

A Glimpse of What His Delays Look Like

He thought he was supposed to eat the stick when he was eating a sucker. We were in the car and in my rear view mirror I could see him licking away at it. Bottom of the stick all the way to the top of the sucker. I told him that he didn't need to eat that part, it was just for holding onto. He said, 'oh good, I no like this one (indicating stick).' When we were in Ukraine he would literally eat the whole stick of the suckers I handed out to the kids. I thought he was just being a gross little boy, but now I see that he was THAT hungry and honestly just didn't know.

He holds his hands up and palms outward the majority of the time. Jazz hands. Picture a fifteen month old sitting in his high chair playing with cheerios, or being excited about some toy they are playing with. You know how they always have their hands up? Same thing.

When eating a popsicle, he held onto the popsicle part even as his fingers froze and it dripped down his hands. I waited to see if he would figure it out on his own, but he did not and the mess was getting bigger than I wanted, so I showed him how to hold the stick. The sticky syrup drips down his chin and hands and arms and he is totally unaware of it. To clean off his dirty or sticky hands, he rubs them in his hair. Yum.

He holds silverware in his fist at the bottom of the utensil with his face touching the plate or bowl or whatever is holding the food. This is still such a challenge for him. He still thinks that he is going to starve. Food is always all over the place and all over him. His ears. His hair. His face. His hands. His clothing.

When it is dark outside, it means it is nighttime. At nighttime we go to bed.

When there is snow on the ground we wear shoes and coats. When the stove is on and bright red, we do not touch it. If you play outside in the snow for a really long time without a coat or gloves on and even start to cry because you are so cold, it generally means you should have come in a long time ago.

We can't say 'get your pajamas on' or 'get dressed'. We have to say 'take off your pants. take off your shirt. take off your socks. open your bottom drawer. choose a pair of pajamas (and he has to ask us if they are pajamas every time). put on the new pants that you just took out of your drawer (because if we say put on the pants or put on the pajama bottoms he gets confused sometimes and will put his pants that he had been wearing back on). put on the new shirt.' etc. This is getting better and progressing. It's just taking a really long time. Okay I feel like it's taking a really long time. It's not fair to him that according to my time frame it's taking a long time. Who knows?! Maybe for him he's learning really fast. Does that make sense??

These are things that I didn't realize I would need to teach BoyTwo. Help him with? Yes. Teach from scratch? No. Pretty much thought he would know what temperatures were and time and how they both relate to our beings.

He is very indiscriminate about who he approaches. He hugs random people in the grocery store. He hugs all adults at his school when they say hi to him. Basically, if the person looks nice and happens to glance at him, he tries to hug them. Last week at the basketball game, he was climbing all over and hanging onto the legs of a man he just met. Our friend told us it was okay, meaning to be friendly and nice and accepting of his behaviors. What I wanted to say was that it was not okay. It is not appropriate for an almost eight year old to approach people he does not know and climb on them as if they were bear cubs. Instead I just made him come over to me (which he did, he knows I mean business).

He also likes to tell other people that he wants them to be his new mom or dad. This one doesn't hurt my feelings because I don't really care what he wants, it's not going to change anything. It's like when your two year old tells you that they don't love you because you won't let them have ice cream for dinner. Same concept. What it does do to me is make me realize how RAD he is. How delayed he is.

I've said before, but it is such a challenge to parent these different ages. He is just barely starting to remember how old he is (we practice every morning and night) and his birthday is around the corner and he will have to learn a new number. When I tell him to put his shoes on before he goes outside in the snow, he tantrums. He is ticked because he doesn't like that we've told him what to do. He is ticked because he doesn't understand or remember what cold feels like. He is ticked because I am telling him what to do, but I don't have to tell any of the other kids. He doesn't recognize that they already have their coats and shoes and gloves on. All he sees is that we are telling him to do something.

At church Sunday, his brother was trying to make him do a simple word search and was getting really mad because he couldn't do it. I saw what was happening pretty quick and stopped it. BoyOne was mad that he couldn't look at the letter 'A' and find it again in the midst of a bunch of other letters.

I am feeling more connected with him. I started doing this thing where I take a few minutes each day and we talk about what he is good at and what he has learned in America. He usually says skiing and I add several other things. It's good for me to have to find those good things about him. It's good for me to have to tell them to him. It's good for him to hear it, too.

As with any experience in life, life goes on and it, in retrospect, gets better. You can't look at it by the day or even the week sometimes (and occasionally not by the month either:)), but overall things progress and it's all good. It feels like each day has been a challenge and sometimes that makes me feel like things aren't going well or smoothly. I start thinking that I'm not doing a good job with all these kids as their mom, that I'm failing. (don't lie, we all feel like this sometimes. at least I hope I'm not the only one!)

Then I take myself back to that awesome apartment in Ukraine where my translator and facilitator were freaking out that my fourteen year old son had ran away, where I was seething mad and absolutely fine with the idea of him staying in Ukraine, where I was beginning to discover that BoyTwo was unable to dress himself, along with other simple tasks and literally swore every other word, where we're at right now looks pretty freakin' awesome!