Two years

Two years ago tonight, I pulled into the driveway after work to see Kyle running out the back door, waving me frantically inside.  He had the phone in his hand, and laryngitis in his throat so he wasn't able to talk to our social worker, who had just called to tell us they'd matched us with a little boy named T, born in Bangkok and almost 7 months old.

I tried to keep from shaking as I stood in the kitchen and listened to Marissa read information from T's file.  I remember wondering how she thought I'd remember a thing she was telling me.  When the conversation was over, we tripped all over ourselves to get the computer open and look for an email that would have the photographs we'd been dreaming of seeing for the last year.  We paused before opening the files, looking at each other and holding our breath.  Then suddenly, we could see the beautiful face of a little boy whose name we weren't yet sure how to pronounce (and still weren't after we'd been home a full year, but that's another story).

Sharing the news of his referral with our family that Christmas was an excitement that I'll never forget.

I knew that our lives would never be the same, but I didn't really grasp the enormity of that change.  T is my greatest love and my greatest challenge.  His successes make me prouder than any personal accomplishment.  On tough days, he can make me more frustrated than I knew possible.  His joy is contagious and brightens the entire house.  I feel lucky beyond words that I'm T's mom.  It's hard to believe only 2 years have gone by.  Life feels so incredibly different now.

I'm finally letting myself get excited about the possibility of receiving word of T's future sibling.  It's still a long ways off, but I think I'll feel something like this:

Zzzzzz

I was planning a post in my head that went something like this:

ACK!  I don't know what happened, but our little boy who once slept in *his own* bed (after 6 months of Kyle sleeping on the floor, inching himself further away from T's bed) is going back-back-backwards and is now sleeping in *our* bed again.  After vacation this summer he needed us to sleep on his floor.  (And he crawled in bed with us in tears around 3am.)  Then he needed to sleep in a "nest" of blankets on the floor next to our bed.  (And he crawled in bed with us in tears around 11pm.)  Then he needed to sleep in our bed all night.  And NOW he's started sobbing about his fear of being left alone at bedtime before we even eat dinner - even though he's sleeping *with* us.  Monday, a new low, he wouldn't even take his nap in his own bed with Kyle sitting next to him.  HELP!  His crying is desperate and frantic and it's breaking my heart!

And then, this week, in a strange  turn of events, T is suddenly, silently, in his own bed for the entire night.  It makes no logical sense to me.

I have no problem with co-sleeping, but T wasn't even happy with that anymore.  Something had to change.  I don't know what inspired me, but in a desperate attempt to try something different, I slid his bed across the room.  T can now lay in it and see me laying in my bed across the hall.  We had "practice"sessions that afternoon in which we did a super-light-speed bedtime routine (books-hug-kiss-"sleep dust"-blankets-stuffed animals-goonight-i love you) and then he "pretended" to sleep while I read a book in my bed.  He kept a close eye on me, but really liked the game of it all.  We practiced a lot.

The first bed-time came, and there were a few tears.  OK, a lot of tears.  There were tears, off and on, for several hours.  But the tears were totally different than the frantic, desperate sobs we've been having when we were putting him to sleep *in our bed*.  They were quieter and just sort of sad, and he never tried to get out of bed.  (In the past, we'd never have considered letting him just cry because his crying was totally frantic, and would run out of bed and throw himself on the floor or run blindly down the (at the top of stairs) hallway).  He repeatedly told us (through tears, bless his heart) that he was "practicing" and "pretending" to sleep.  He "pretended" to sleep in his very own bed all the way until I let him crawl in bed with me at 6am.  The next 2 nights?  No crying and no crawling in bed with us at all.

I think he really *wanted* to be able to sleep in his own bed.  (He's told us several times that his friends sleep in their "big boy beds".)  All the times we slept on his floor and in the hallway, he was hyper-vigilant because he knew at some point we'd go back to sleeping in our own bed.  He'd wake up and not see us.  He was just waiting for us to leave and being afraid of  it ahead of time.  My theory is that now, he doesn't have to fear us leaving, because we're in our own bed already.  And he can see us the whole time.  For some reason, that distinction is better for his little brain.  Or maybe he was just finally ready.  Who knows.  I have every finger and toe crossed that this lasts.

-Robin

Thai Night and Thai Temple

I feel like a broken record, but we feel so thankful for the wonderful Thai community in our area.  We attended the Milwaukee Thai-American Association's Thai Night and had a great time.  My parents and Kyle's mom came also, and we were really happy they wanted to soak up some Thai culture with us.  T showed everyone his bright, social personality by running around all night making new friends and dancing with beautiful women (I sometimes feel like we already have a teenager).  Kyle and I skipped the dancing  but we ate a lot of incredible food and enjoyed the traditional dancing.  My dad did *not* skip the Thai dancing, and he is very lucky it was dark and the evidential pictures didn't turn out well enough to post.  The very luckiest part of the night was meeting new friends who have a son nearly T's age.  The boys enjoyed chasing each other around.

After Thai Night, our new friends invited us to join them at Buddha Haksa Temple in Waukesha.  We had talked about going in the past but had chickened out because we didn't really know when or how to go about visiting.  Totally psyched to have an "in", we invited other friends with a Thai kiddo along, too.

Here's where I confess that, despite knowing we were meeting multiple  friends, we were still pretty nervous about going.  We'd visited many wats (temples) in Thailand but had never been to a formal ceremony.  Kyle and I are socially challenged in large groups of new people to begin with.  The thought of adding in an unfamiliar religious ceremony and a volatile, unpredictable two-year-old was really making me sweat.   We had no clue what the protocol was for going to the temple.  We asked our friends for tips, and they told us we could bring water or juice boxes for the monks. 

Water or juice boxes!?  This sounded so strange to us!  What kind of juice do monks drink?  Would it be wrong to buy them something artificially flavored?  Do they only drink organic juice?  Do we bring it inside the temple with us?  Like in a plastic bag?  Isn't that weird?  We did not want to do anything disrespectful but I was pretty sure we'd manage to somehow.  Our Thai friend Jet was so sweet and casual, and very, "Oh, whatever you bring is fine" and I think that attitude is *awesome* and totally. not. me.  I need to learn to relax and just go with the flow.  I think living in Thailand for awhile would be good for me.

Sunday morning dawned and Kyle was too sick to go to the temple and then I *really* started sweating.  I was going to have to navigate the temple and T-wrangling solo.  Yikes. It turned out that I should not have worried so much (as is always the case).  We stopped to buy water on the way (because I really couldn't decide which flavor of juice was most respectful for a Buddhist ceremony) and in the gas station, T announced to the cashier "Water for the MONKS!  T give the water to the MONKS!"  The cashier eyed him suspiciously and handed me my change.

After about an hour's drive we arrived at the temple and the parking lot was packed.  T and I stood outside the building with our other white-friends-with-Thai-kid and wondered what to do.  Walk right in?  Wait for Jet and her family? But what if she was already inside?  Thankfully, we spotted her husband Andy outside and he gave us a little tour of the grounds.

The main building is decorated on the outside as much like a traditional Thai temple in Wisconsin can be.  The upper floor is the main temple.  The "basement" (which is actually at ground level) is a large open room set up with tables for feeding a very large group of people.  The group decided we'd like to at least give the ceremony a try before retreating to the basement, so we climbed the steps, removed our shoes, and sneaked in as inconspicuously as a group of 7 adults and 3 kids can.  The floor was full of people kneeling, praying, and chanting.  Monks were all seated in a line along one side of the room on a platform a few inches higher than the floor.

I would love to learn more about the actual prayers being said.  The language used, I later learned, is Pali.  T wouldn't let me hold my hands together in the wai position like everyone else did.  For some reason, that really bothered him.  The ceremony we were there for was the end of Buddhist Lent.  From the Wise Internet:

After three months restricted to their temples, learning dharma and practicing meditation, the Buddhist monks once again return to their social duties.  Thai Buddhists celebrate this occasion by offering food and lavish gifts to monks.

The kids were getting antsy so we sneaked back out of the temple after maybe 10 minutes.  Soon, the gong sounded and people started to file outside, carrying their offerings for the monks.  The monks walked around the circle carrying alms bowls and we placed our offerings inside.  T, who had been super-stoked about giving water to the monks, was suddenly shy and I had to do it for him.  (My camera battery died so these pictures are courtesy of Andy and Jet - thanks guys!)  Some people gave sticky rice or fruit, but juice and individually wrapped snacks seemed to be the most popular gifts.

After the offering, everyone filed back inside the temple to finish praying.  We, instead, hung out in the basement until the worshippers joined us downstairs for lunch.  There were many huge tables sagging under the weight of a feast of food that people had brought.  It was delicious.  I can't get enough of that spicy papaya salad.  We saw other Thai friends we'd met at picnics and Thai Night.  Everyone was friendly and a few women T had danced with at Thai night wanted to hold him again.  He was more than happy to oblige.

After lunch, Jet wanted to take the boys upstairs to give our monetary offerings directly to the monks so the kids could get used to seeing them.  That was a great idea.  Unfortunately, T's parents didn't prepare him for this situation.  Instead of a respectfully kneeling and wai-ing like his little friend, T started to say "No!" and got upset.  We backed off for awhile, and with some coaxing by the adults, and the monk holding out a little ceramic Buddha for him to take, he got pretty close.  I had to take the orange thread from the monk to tie around his wrist, but I think he'll do better next time.

 

Once outside, another monk offered the boys some juice boxes.  T really liked that a lot but wanted someone else to take the juice and hand it to him.  He was still wary of getting too close.

The oddest part of the day was getting a goody bag of treats.  After the ceremony, ladies sat in the temple and package up the offerings people made for the monks and gave them out to everyone to take back home, because there was simply too much food for the monks to eat.  We arrived home with a random collection of Thai snacks, American granola bars, and a banana that T ate before we snapped this picture:

Within 5 minutes of leaving, T was crying in the car because he wanted to go back and thank the monks.  Since we've been home, he repeatedly tells me that "Monks give you juice".  Well, I guess he's technically right, but I think we're all going to have to learn a little more about Buddhism so he takes away something beyond the treats.

Passport photos

Readers who know me in real life already know that I will do almost anything to save twelve cents.  We make our own laundry soap, our own bread, and I'd be sewing/knitting our clothes if I wasn't, in addition to being thrifty, an extreme procrastinator (we'd end up naked, and with Wisconsin weather, that could be very bad).

One of the things I've been procrastinating on is getting a passport for T.  Now I'm down to the wire.  See, we filed for an extension on our taxes because I didn't have a SSN for T.  To get the SSN, it seems easiest to get the passport first.  Got that?  Passport, then SSN, then taxes.  Taxes are due October 15th.  Gulp.  Kyle, cover your eyes and don't read this:  I think we're going to have to just file without his SSN and file an amended return later.  My bad.

But in an effort to get the ball rolling the right direction, I finally looked up what we need to do to get T's passport.  To save exactly $7.84, we're using this website to make our own passport photos.  You upload a headshot with a white background, crop with their nifty help, and download the photos that are magically the right specifications and size.  We'll send this off to our local photo processor and get our passport photos for 15 cents.

The caveat was getting T to *stand still* for our little photo session.  I was all, "Hey T, look right at me, no - right. at. me.  Turn your head this way.  Wait, too far.  Look back *that* way.  Stop moving your arms.  Don't bite your lip.  Open your eyes.  Close your mouth.  Stand  up.  Don't lean forward.  Stand up straighter.  Not that straight.  I have to see both your ears.  Arms *down*."

I should have just told him: "Stop being two years old!!"
Poor guy.  Incredibly, I think we did get a shot that'll work, and Kyle reminded me this was preferable to having the whole scene play out *in public* at the grocery store with an 18 year old cashier holding an unfamiliar camera who might not have as much patience.

And also, T's passport will be actual proof that he's an American.  You never know when someone from Homeland Security will demand to see documentation at library storytime.  We can't be too careful.

-Robin

I thought the horror stories would end once T was home

Playing at the park with T, minding my own business, a woman watching 2 grandkids sidles up to me and starts yaking at me. With no provocation, she proceeds to tell me:

• The marital status of each of her kids, how many offspring each had, the childcare arrangements for each, where they currently (and previously) reside(d), which ones still visit and which ones she sees only on holidays.
• The flaws of each of her grandchildren (she could have skipped that - the little girl who kept pushing T away from the swings and standing with her arms out to forbid him to use them? was bossy - got it).
• She wanted to go sky diving with her son but he went without her after she tried to reschedule because she wasn't feeling well.
• She's a blackbelt in Tae Kwan Do.
• Her friends adopted 3 kids and the 2 boys were just perfect - so athletic and smart - but the girl - oh the girl was a disaster and had XYZ problems and ABC problems and she NMOed and then she PQRed and the police came and DEFed and now she's totally estranged from the family.

Uh, OK. Nice meeting you. I will be finding another park to play at now...backing away slowly...

-Robin

Adopt a critter?

Some people are strongly opposed to the use of the word "adopt" in sponsorship situations (adopt-a-highway, adopt-an-animal).  Here's one such argument, taken from an article I found online:

Think it through with me for a minute: we try so hard to reassure our adopted children that adoption is permanent and forever. Then we tell them we are adopting an animal, say a gorilla, at the local zoo. We send the zoo some money and go visit "our" animal, then go home. Perhaps we visit once or twice more that year. The next year our family gets together to decide how to spend the money we've set aside for donation to the community. This time we decide to let someone else sponsor the gorilla this year because we'd rather try a whale.

I can understand their argument, but usually, I shrug it off and have decided there are bigger things to worry about.  Would I prefer a "Help a Highway" sign along the road and a "Sponsor a Cheetah" program at the zoo?  Sure.  But I feel like I can't change society's use of the word adopt, so I'd rather focus my energy on helping T be comfortable with the word, and understand its different uses.

At a recent trip to our nearby zoo I was pleasantly surprised to see this display:

Their "Befriend-An-Animal" program uses no "adoption" language.  I guess I shouldn't have been surprised.  This was in Madison, after all, which is a particularly progressive city (76 square miles surrounded by reality).  It was nice nonetheless.

-Robin

Will we ever shut up about that attachment stuff?

Probably not. This is our adoption-related blog. For fluffy family fun, visit here or here.

More thoughts on attachment, in two parts.

Part One: Grossness and TMI. You've been warned. But no pictures, thank God.

A few weeks ago, when we were newly home from camp and T was struggling more with attachment, he came down with an intestinal bug.

Oh, the agony. The pain. The loss of desire to use the toilet (alas, he'd only been potty trained for about one week). The zillions upon zillions of dirty diapers. The smells (T's). The exasperation (mine). The exhaustion (everyone's).

Day after day, for almost a week, was spent entirely changing diapers, comforting him, washing diapers, and keeping him hydrated. He was really fine except for his diarrhea. But he was spent and uncomfortable. It made him cling to me big time. I felt awful for him. I was helpless to do anything to cure him, so I just did my best to keep him snuggled and clean and full of liquids. This was not an earth shattering illness. His pediatrician didn't even want me to bring him in. But T has been so healthy since we got home - I think he's had one cold in the last 15 months - so it was really his first time being "sick" with us.

The amount he had to depend on me that week really affected T. Our routine-shattering, stranger-filled vacation had strained our bond, and I was still feeling that things were still not quite on even footing when he got sick. But T was feeling crummy enough to let me baby him a lot, which is what many attachment experts recommend to help foster a stronger bond. It's often when I feel like T's connection to us isn't so hot that babying him would be the hardest thing to do, because he's actively pushing us away. By the time T's stomach was improving, so was his attachment (until the hellacious diaper rash appeared, but that's another story). Now he and I are tight again, which, ironically (but logically, if you understand how attachment works) means he's much more confident about independently exploring his world. He seems more in control of himself and more in balance again. I'm not happy he was ill, but glad to see there was a silver lining to our challenging, unhappy week. We would have gotten back to this place eventually, but I'm grateful for the nudge.


Part Two: Mom vs. Dad, or, How the Economy Affects Attachment

I was laid off last week. I knew it was coming, and I'm seeing it as an opportunity to spend all day with T, possibly on a permanent basis (at least until he's in school, if this works out). The combination of working 2nd shift and watching T in the mornings was getting brutal on the sleep front. I'm happy for this chance and especially thrilled to see my husband more than on weekends (we worked opposite shifts to avoid needing outside childcare). But this is not about me.

Since I've been home (one whole week), T has spent much much much more time with only me than previously. He used to actually have more face time (by almost 3 hours) with Kyle on an average day. Kyle, coincidentally, just started a 2nd, part time job (it, also, began last week). (Of, felicitous fate, thank you for laying me off at the precise moment we would have started to need childcare!) Due to job #2, he's gone for some of the afternoon hours he used to spend alone with T.

In one week's time, we're seeing a pretty big slide in T's attachment with Kyle. I'm assuming Kyle (lovely, overworked, and currently sleeping Kyle) will not mind my sharing this publicly, but he's now so busy that he probably won't blog again until the semester is over, and in fact, may not even have time to read this. (Um, hi babe! Shouldn't you be working or something? =) ) T is starting to resist making eye contact with him, and is pulling stunts like trying to guess which parent would take him to the toilet before he'll answer if he needs to use it (if I'll take him, he'll go; if Kyle is taking him, he'll hold it). He insists, more than usual, on me holding him instead of Kyle, me doing the bedtime routine (which has always been Kyle's thing), me cleaning him up after meals, me reading him stories, and basically, just on me in general if we're both home. Much of T's insistence is in the form of crying and tantrums, which is painful for everyone.

I feel like this could be because he's milking my being home for all it's worth, or he's worried since his Dad is gone more than he used to be (or a combination of the two). But we're working hard to get T's bond with his dad stronger. We're sticking to the dad-son bedtime routine. Kyle still gives T all his showers. Kyle's doing some eye contact games with him. We're encouraging T to go to Kyle to be held and snuggled. I think we're also going to make a point to give T time with Kyle when I'm not an option. Either the boys or I need to leave the house for a few hours of alone time on the afternoons that Kyle is around, so that they can have fun without the stress of me being there for T to run to. This sort of bums me out because it was this extra family time I was looking forward to, but we'll still have lots of time together. I'm confident T will be begging to snuggle up to his Dad again soon.

The hard part is Kyle not taking it personally. I feel terrible for Kyle when T throws a fit about sitting on his lap after Kyle has been at work and missing him all day, while I'm equally frustrated because I could use a break myself after a day of critter wrangling. Stay tuned...

-Robin