Numbers that mean something

I awoke this morning with number swimming in my head.  Numbers like 147 Million orphans, two little black eyed boys, 100's of friends who have taken the leap to welcome these orphans into their souls and lives, 46 families (at least) who have finalized their Russian adoptions, but (at the present time) will not be able to bring them home.  I think of the Kygerstan 64 families that have fought for years to free their children or the 411 families that met their children in Nepal only to have bureaucracy and politics imprison their children in a flailing system of "care."  Or the families who never got to bring their kids home from Guatemala, or Vietnam, or the countless families in the US who fostered kids for months or years, only to have the US states decide over and over again that blood line is the best choice for kids. When truly, those who have worked closely with the kids who bounce back and forth from foster home to hospital, to biological families, back to foster care again know that blood is not always what is best for our most vulnerable among us. 

I am going to come out and say this loud and clear, even though I know many of my readers will disagree.  I do not believe in Hell as most do.  I don't believe that there is some sort of afterlife punishment for those who do not abide by one religion or another's set of prerequisites.  I do however know that the concept of eternal damnation is very real and here on Earth.  I don't need some threat of "do this or else."  I have seen it.  I have seen it in Central America in the eyes of a poor mother who's child died of starvation despite her best efforts and boundless love, I have seen it in the shame on the legless veterans face who begs for money.  I have seen it in the lost empty eyes of the children I left in the orphanages in Kazakhstan as I could only bring one home.  I see it when an adopted mother desperately tries to get her child dental care, but told "no" to anaesthesia for pulling 6 absest teeth because it is not medically necessary to prevent suffering.  There are 27 families in CT that know good and well what Hell feels like.  And now, the 700,000 + orphans in Russia who live life in Hell on Earth each and every day, will continue to live life in conditions that we preach might befall us in the afterlife. 

The news of Russia shutting down adoptions for Americans has hit me in so many ways.  On one hand it puts me back to remembering the day we found out Kazakhstan was closing.  The same day our paperwork made it to the Embassy, only to be returned.  For us it was heartbreaking, but I can see now, not nearly as heart braking as it must be for the 46 families that have gone to Russia met their children, gone to court, received birth certificates, and made a promise to their children of coming back to bring them into their forever families.  We spent almost three months in Kazakhstan adopting Emerson.  We refused to return to the US because I was terrified of something like this happening.  I can remember my father asking me when I would relax and believe he was really our son.  I replied "when I have him home." 

I can also see another side.  Imagine for a moment if we were to learn in the US that kids who were in our foster system and not adopted after 1 year of being available could be adopted by families in Russia or China.  We too might assume some of the things the Russian Parliament is thinking.  Yes, the individuals might be good, but when you lump all people into a mass category of a stereotypical culture you are playing a dangerous game of judgment.   

Then there is the undeniable truth that nags at me every day.  We as a society our lousy at taking care of the weakest.  We bemoan the EPA for killing jobs, rather than thanking them for keeping mercury out of our drinking water.  We tell people "the ONLY way to stop a bad guy with a gun is a good guy with a gun."  We industrialize our schools to a point where our kids are numbers, statistics, chair sitters and our counselors are those who administer high stakes test.   We shun those who are mentally hurting, and label the alert child in an overstimulating environment as ADD, and wonder why they lash out.  We move the public health clinic for the poor to suburbs where there is no bus service, and yes, we let bureaucracy run the law of the land when it comes to the orphans on the world. 

I recognize that many of my readers are AP's but some are not and have never tried to navigate the system of truly trying to bring into your home a child who does not have a family.  It is a battle my friend.  And not one that ends, ever.  When we decided to adopt we fully thought it would be domestic.  We hear all the time (sometimes in front of our children)  why not just adopt a kid from the US.  There are so many who need homes.  To those I say, go ahead give you local DHR and call, then lets talk.  I know families who have waited years with open hears, minds and with rooms ready, only to be jerked around by the US system.  Yes, these kids do need homes, but we have got to revamp our system.  By the time an average kid in the US finds their forever family they have been in 18 placements.  Do you have any idea what that does to a child?  New born adoption in the US is equally as perilous.  It involves adopting a family because most adoptions are open.  This works great for some, not for others, and when it comes to adopting, you better go in with your eyes wide open, because nievitey does nothing for you at 3 am with a child who is unconsolable for the 3 hour in a row.  The other aspect is that a birth mother can changer her mind (rightly so) after she gives birth to the child.  For me I knew there were millions of kids already alive that needed a home so domestic infant adoption did not appeal to us.  For those who do form their families this way, I comend you for being there to guide a child as soon as possible.  Fortunately very few of these kids end up as "orphans." 

Now, lets think for a moment the reality of what happens to children who grow up without a family or foster family (which by the way, those in the US who are doing a good job at this, are the unsung heroes of taking care of our weakest.)  A large number of children don't survive the institutions/orphanages around the world. Illness, malnourishment, physical and sexual abuse is rampant.  In China, those that are weak are sent to the dying rooms, and the precious few resources that the orphanages have, are given to those who are "stronger."  Then lets think about what it means to be a toddler in an orphanage.  My son at 2.5 spent about 23 hours a day in a crib, head flattened, gross moter skills stunted.  My other son had never been outside until we took him out ourselves. 

Now lets just say you are one of the 25% that survives this emotional, nutritional, and stimulus void environment until you are school age.  Don't expect to get much schooling, or medical help, or dental care.  If you are strong, you might get to go work in a sweat shop and make a bunch of cheep plastic crap so Americans can go buy it at walmart or get a nice little toy with their "happy meal."  If you are a pretty girl, you can go work in the prostitution rings.  If you are disabled, deformed, defected, off to the permanent institutions for the disabled.  Hell on Earth.

If you live to 16, say goodbye to the comforts of your institutionalized Hell and you are off on your own with out a family, education, money, skills, love, nourishment.  The "options" are few for these kids.  Prostitution, slavery (yes it still exist), gangs, drugs, suicide, terrorist organizations ect. 

Then there are the few families in the world (1-5% of all families) who form through adoption.  We are the lucky ones (me not my kids.)  My kids are not lucky that they had to endure what they did.  Just today, I found out Emerson is going to need to have major dental surgery due to extreme malnutrition in-utero and during his first 12 months of life.  With Isaac he came to us as a 17 lb 3.5 year old.  He was labeled as autistic/schizophrenic mute child.  When really he was a child of trauma.  His first adoptive family could not take it despite their best intentions.  For the scars of neglect profoundly effect young children. 

I hear all the time "children are so resilient, they bounce back from everything so quick."  The problem is, this is just not true.  Early childhood neglect and trauma literally rewire and deform the most basic brain waves, functions and structures, causing all new memories and experiences to be built on a faulty platform.  So what happens when we get our children home after fighting sometimes years for the right and privilege to shrink that number of 147 million. 

We hold a child with night terrors for hours as they are inconsolable
We try to explain to the landlord why all the wall paper was ripped off the wall
We try to block the oncoming rock or toy train that is being throw at us from a child in a PTSD rage.
We sit through IEP meetings while some listen tearfully to the horrors of your child's experiences and other seemed inconvenienced by their different needs that don't fit the mold.
We fight with insurance companies about covering children that were adopted older.
We endure the stares of people as our child flails on the ground from over stimulation because for years they had none, and the world is still frighting to them. 
We face one more surgery or trip to Children's Hospital to try and undo the damage that was done while we waited for bureaucracy to run its course. 
We are treated with scepticism as "those crazy parents" by doctors, teachers, and principles when we try to explain how early childhood trauma and neglect has made my child different. 
Many of us them make a huge leap and homeschooling our children, to protect them from further slipping backwards in society.

And, with all that said, I would do it over and over again.  Unfortunately I am just a teacher and my husband is just a small business owner who also stays at home with our boys to give them the much needed back parenting they so desperately need as they move forward in this world.  What this means though is that according to US law we don't make enough money to bring more children into our family.  So, now we are fighting for a larger cause. 

There are a lot of outspoken pro-lifers out there.  Most of them believe and profess in an afterlife possibility of hell.  For those of you out there protesting abortion, stand up equally as loud for the 147 million kids that are hear on Earth, enduring a Hell that most in the US cannot even begin to imagine.  If you are in a position of power, look at the list above of what families face who do give fathers, and mothers to the orphans of the world, and see what you can do to change that. 

Vladimir Putin made a bold move today in the very wrong direction.  Are there enough of us out there, to offset this move through action, goodness and changing the conversation in both the US and the world on how we treat and care for the most vulnerable? 

The Grinch's Heart

Yesterday was our day out in the "real world."  Normal our Saturday's are activity filled.  We started off the day at the Art Museum's Christmas event.  The boys were so excited to run into old friends.  And like most of my plans to further their cultural endeavors, my boys managed to turn the art museum into another really cool playground. 

We managed to get them outside into the sculpture garden where the security guards would not be so nervous about four sprinting kids.  And thus, logically it seemed a great place to play hide and seek. They had a blast until one of the four declared a statue of a necked man was "base."  Then she ran to base, grabbed its but and said as the voice of reason "This base is kinda gross!" 

But, the highlight of the day for me was our next stop.  The boys were invited to a twin birthday party with a Grinch Stole Christmas theme.  At the end of the party, the game was for the boys to "pin the heart on the Grinch."  Each child was asked to fill the heart they had been given with something that would make the Grinch's heart grow.

Most of the other kids were waiting for something to write with, but not my little Isaac.  He still had his pencil in his pocket from the Art Museum scavenger hunt.  Then he very deliberately wrote on the heart "DAD" and drew a picture of his dad.  When I asked him about it he said, "I think the Grinch would have a much bigger heart if he had a Dad like mine." 

Proud Mama

I love my boys more than I knew it was possible to love something.  Being a parent to them has allowed my heart to grow in directions that I did not know were possible.  With that, I am also able to feel all of the other parenting emotions in great detail.  When they do something frustrating, it is maddening to me, or disappointment can become shame, and proud can become an intense form of pride. 

Emerson has always been easy to look at with adoration.  He can charm the pants off of just about everyone he meets.  He knows how to work a crowd and win over his mama's heart.  Isaac on the other hand, is more complex.  He is my visual learner who excels already in math in many ways.  Take for example the Law of attention for negatives and positives.  If a child does something positive they have between a 20-60% chance of getting attention for the action.  If a child does something negative they have a 95-100% chance of getting attention. 

So, needless to say, when your brother is an outgoing, charming attention hog, you gotta get some attention however you can, and with Isaac that tends to be with the negative.  But... and this is a big one.... Isaac and martial arts is all about being his best, because he loves it that much. 

I have always been clear about my goals for the boys with them taking karate.  I want Emerson to gain skills in following directions, and physical agility/coordination.  For Isaac I wanted him to have an outlet for his aggression, and confidence building sport and a place for him to excel physically. 

Yesterday, as I sat in the parent section, I could feel myself beaming. 

Emerson loves martial arts.  He practices all the time.  He pays attention there better than any other time.  He still struggles, but for him, he has his A game on when he goes to class.  It is a pleasure to watch him improve despite his struggles.

Isaac marched into class, bowed at the door, went to the wall and sat "like a black belt" and waited for class to start.  He watched his instructors intently.  When asked to come up, he confidently shouted a "yes sir!" and ran to attention.  He performed each skill to a level of impressive accuracy for a five year old, and his instructors and other parents noticed.  There was so much to smile about during the 45 min. class.  My boy was impressive, just because.  It wasn't just that he was better than he was before, or that people were patronizing him.  He was in his element and he did something wonderful because he was passionate about it, and he was good. 

Needless to say positive attention was abound on the car ride home, but no amount of praise said, could match the peace my heart felt in seeing that my little one has what it takes, and much more.

Confession of Lemon

You know the phrase "when life gives you lemons make lemonade", well I am not sure if that applies in this situation. 

I am the lemon, or to be more specific my body is a lemon. No, I don't mean the yellow fruit that makes great pies and refreshing drinks.  I mean it like the crappy used car you bought with cash, but you are constantly having the check engine light come on, or you are constantly breaking down.  That is the kind of lemon my body is. 

It was not always that way.  I know, what those who are reading who know me in real life are thinking... "Just wait until you turn 40 then you will know what falling apart feels like."  When people say this to me I cringe for many reasons, but mostly it makes me hide even more. 

You see, there are days when I wake up and I can't walk, or can't use an arm or nights where I don't sleep at all because there is not position of comfort.  My body has decided that I am its own enemy.  That parts of me don't belong and should thus be treated like an invader. 

Most of the time, I can control my immune system from going nuts through medicine, diet, exercises plain old begging and willing it to work.  But, every once and a while I loose and it wins.  Usually it is a big storm that rolls in, where I have absolutely no control and thus I become trapped in a body that had decided to destroy itself. 

Yesterday my left shoulder and arm was useless or perhaps worse than useless because it was excruciating.  I don't bother saying anything to my students fellow workers, and not too much to my family.  Why complain. It is not their fault, they can't fix it, and worse when people put in their two cents it is usually based on pretty faulty outdated information.  Not to mention that today, my left arm is fine, but my right elbow, wrist and hand are...useless, swollen, curled and in pain.  Talk about trying to explain that one in a casual "What happened to your arm"

My response it typically "I am a lemon" and then I offer nothing else.  How do you say in polite conversation, "I have a degenerative auto-immune disorder that is destroying a joint that it thinks is injured, but it is no, so it is causing an injury which it will then go in a fix."  Not such great lunch table conversation. 

Now, there is some lemonade to go with this burden of lemons.  For those who knew me in the younger years, I took a lot of physical risk.  I had big dreams of where my life was heading.  I feel like these lemons are constantly steering me, serving as a ruttier.  Many roads I have taken in life I would not have taken, and most of them have been pretty sweet.  So for now, don't shake my hand, or ask what I did to myself, but just know that I am apparently being shoved onto a different road.  Maybe when I get on the right one, (or the storm passes) I will be back to functioning like always. Untill then have a glass of lemonade for me.     

unbalanced enough

Sorry for the absence of writing these past few weeks.  I have been in a funk and did not feel the need to spread the confused outlook I was having on life.  I will say we had a wonderful Thanksgiving and my time with the boys and family was filled with precious moments and quality experiences.  I felt alive, meaningful and purposeful. 

But, for many reasons, I have not felt those things this past week.  I have been struggling with the monotony and mundane of life. 
Then, this morning I read the following poem for the first time: 

"I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright.
I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more.
I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive.
I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much bigger.
I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.
I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.
I wish enough "Hello's" to get you through the final "Good-bye.."

It seems clear to me know that my "enoughs" are out of whack.  I feel like I don't have enough money to make ends meat, enough time with my boys, enough food growing to share a meal.  I feel like I have been eating too much junk, having too much coffee, sleeping too much to wish the darkness away.  Not enough outside time, not enough time with friends, or books, or in meaningful conversation. 

I know that in the grand scheme of things that balance does not come on a day to day basis, and the big lesson for me right now is that I am having just "enough" imbalance to nudge me in the right direction. 

For me, this is the time of year where I start to feel drained from being in constant output mode.  I share everyday what I know and teach others, I take care of my wonderful boys, I look after my gardens but harvest little during these months.  As a result I feel drained and empty and I need to find someway to get input, learn something new, read something engaging and find the time to do what is most important.  Be whole and present for those around me. 

What a difference a decade makes

I am not sure if I have ever mentioned my first date with John on my blog.  Surprisingly, it was not exactly a conventional courtship.  John and I met while working at Hancock Field Station in the desert of Oregon.  After knowing each other a few months as fellow field instructors who led kids off into the desert for 2-5 mile hikes daily, we were able to go on a river trip to scout the John Day before taking kids on the river.  With all that said, John was off limits.  He was dating someone else.  How did I know this given that I rarely saw him? 

Did I mention that we lived in a very remote place?  So remote that cell phones did not work and we just had very slow dial up Internet that we could rarely access due to being out in the filed most of the time.  John being a diligent problem solver and handy, decided to install his own phone line in his cabin.  He had to literally dig a trench over 1/2 mile from the nearest place to split the line.  He worked on this project for over a month.  Finally he had finished it so he could talk to the girl in Idaho he was dating. 

Fast forward to the very next day.  I found John sitting in the homemade wood burning hot tub that we (the instructors) had built.  He was never in there because he was always working on his phone line.

When I asked him how the phone was working, he replied that women were evil, and that she had broken up with him then hung up on him on his first official phone call on his newly installed phone.  This made the space free.  I had just left a four year relationship and I was in no mood to be in another one any time soon. 

When John mentioned a few days later that he was going to Seattle for a few days, I invited myself along, desperately needing a change of scenery.  On the way north, we noticed how windy it was, and John being the adventuresome type, just happened to have a 6ft. wingspan stunt flying kite with him.  So, we pulled over at the Cottonwood Bridge to fly this kite.  The kite was impressive, and the wind was intense.  It literally picked John up and carried him in three steps across a parking area the size of a football field. 

When he got to the edge of the lot, he launched head first into the sage brush and had sticks and twigs protruding everywhere.  It was funny on so many levels.  But life was about to become interactive.  He decided at this point to tie himself to the car, you know, to prevent being launched into sharp sticks again.  Now he needed my help to launch this kite.  Willingly I hiked out in the field, found the kite tangled up and set it free.  I held it high above my head, waited for his tug, the tossed it strait into the air.  At this point I made the novice mistake of stunt kite flying; I looked up to see it fly.  Unfortunately I got a very close look, because the kite took a nose dive and slammed into my face, causing me to began to spurt blood out the side of my head.  (Romance at its best)

So, I loving refer to our fist date as "the time John tried to kill me with his kite."  A lot has happened in last 10 + years of us being together.  We have run rivers, climbed glaciers, I let him live through a few remodeling projects, we adopted not once, but twice, we lived 1/2 way around the world, we have moved, and moved again. 

This past weekend, we decided to have some family time at Dauphin Island.  It was a great time, for time to go slow enough for me to get a moment to be reflective and also in awe of how far we have come as a family and as people over the last 10 years.  There is one exception though. 

The kite is still alive and well and she was flown this weekend, and John risked life and limb to save her again. 

Imagine if you will 50 mph winds on a large sandy beach with intermittent grassy sand dunes, tide pools and the occasionally washed up debris.  John was letting Isaac hold the kite handles and all of the sudden, Isaac decided he didn't want to hold them any more.  John was holding on to Isaac so he wouldn't fly away, but instead of Isaac saying "Dad, can you take over?"  he just let go.  John's first reaction was "seriously Isaac" but then love of the kite kicked in and he was off, sprinting like a mad man after his kite.  Unfortunately he also had a sling backpack on at the time that was clipped to his belt loop.  As he was running and falling behind the race with the kite, he tried to ditch the backpack to gain speed.  He had forgotten that he had clipped it to his pants.  "No problem" I imagine him thinking, I will just ditch the pants and keep on running.  So here is my husband 10 years later, running through sharp sand grass, through freezing cold tide pools, in his underwear all to save his kite. 

Isaac and Emerson watched the scene in awe with me.  At one point Isaac looked at me and asked "am I in trouble?"  I replied "that depends on whether he catches it or not."  None the less, when his pants/ backpack came off we all laughed.  When he dove into the waves belly flopping and came out victorious we all cheered for all sorts of personal reasons.  Me, because John will go to all limits and effort to save something he loves, Emerson because he now has a good reason to wear underwear, Isaac because he was not going to get in trouble, and John because he has still got what it takes to risk life and limb for his family and his kite. 

Two weeks worth of lessons

So some of you have expressed interest in how our weeks work with John teaching.  Here are two weeks worth of plans.  Granted, this is just an outline, but it gives you the gist of what we are doing with them.  This does not include all of the imaginative play and creative things they come up with during the day.  This is just how we are intentional about concepts. 

Date: Nov. 5-9 Theme: Dauphin Island


Letter: Y Number: Upper teens

Site Words: We, Like, To, Go, Went

Vocabulary: island, fort

Animal of the week: Dauphin

Field Trip: Dauphin Island Sea Lab

Objectives:

1. Preparing for Dauphin Island (packing and learning)

2. Know what an island is and mark the spot on a map

3. Know the sounds the letter Y makes and how to draw it.

4. Continue to work on teens in math





MONDAY Specific instructions Special information

Morning Activity Journals

Handwriting/ Fine motor skills/Art Itsy bits Y book and play dough or side walk chalk letter.

PE/ Gross Motor Skill Sits ups, jumping jacks and stretching for warm up.

Card Game with sit ups and jumping jacks See direction sheet. Take out face cards from the deck

Math Number of the day WS, Group things by that number. Take one away, add another one.

17 Have the kids use the domino's to see how many ways they can make 17

Science What is an island? Define, write and color major islands on the world map
Reading Use new sight word flash cards then do the letter cut and paste for the new words.


TUESDAY  Election Day
Morning Activity Journal

 Vocabulary Election, President, Ballot, Leader

Handwriting/ Fine motor skills/Art Make election campaign poster

SS Have kids watch the election video and list what makes a good leader. Make their own campaign poster to take with them to the polling place. Have the boys interview people about what leadership is while waiting in line. Tally up the comments and have the kids create a pictograph of leadership traits.

Bowling after voting

Math Bowling/ subtraction
Reading Rainbow write site words and color code the sentences then read aloud.

WEDNESDAY All about Islands 

Morning Activity Journal and discuss election results

Handwriting/ Fine motor skills/Art Letter Y Handwriting sheet 1 and 2

PE/ Gross Motor Skill Math Teens ball toss with buckets in the yard

Math Number 18 Have kids use the dominoes to see how many different ways they can make the number 18

Science What do we want and see on vacation? What tools do we need to pack:

Sand toys, screens, kites, binoculars, bird books ect. Have them pack a small rubber made tub with their science instruments for exploring the island.

SS Label dauphin island and Birmingham on the map of AL

Reading Write sentences using site words

THURSDAY
Morning Activity Journals

Handwriting/ Fine motor skills/Art Give the boys a newspaper or magazine and have them highlight the letter Y when they see it.

PE/ Gross Motor Skill Karate Test tonight. They need a good nap.

Math Number 19

Other The big goal of the day is to get groceries and cook for the weekend:

Make bread

Cookies

Hot coco mix

What to pack for food

Go to grocery store after making list.

FRIDAY Preparing for field Trip
Mom takes Emerson to eye doctor

John and Isaac pack the car

Next week

Date: Nov 12-16 Theme: Veterans, Thankful For


Letter: M Number: 20,30,40,50

Site Words: on, am, in, you, are

Vocabulary: Thanks, Veteran,

Field Trip: Dauphin island

Objectives:
Learn why we celebrate veteran’s day

Who are veterans

What are we thankful for

Learning about the history and traditions of Thanksgiving

Recognize, sound out and write the letter “M”

Be able to write 20,30,40 and 50 and say them correctly.

Determine less than more than for 20,30,40,50
MONDAY
Morning Activity
Veterans Day

TUESDAY
Morning Activity Journals

Handwriting/ Fine motor skills/Art Making their itsy bitsy M book.
Paint M, side walk chalk and play dough M’s Watch Emerson as he works and make sure he is doing it neat and that both boys are reading it back to you.

PE/ Gross Motor Skill Bowling and Math

Math 20. Have them measure and mark 20 somewhere. Can they get their car into the range of the 20’s

Science What did we learn at Dauphin island

SS Veterans day definition. Make something for Tom and mail it to him.

Reading Play matching and games with new word cards.

Cut and paste letters to make new words




WEDNESDAY
Morning Activity Journals and q tip art Have them do a dotted pattern on paper with q tips. Then they use a paint brush to blend the colors

Handwriting/ Fine motor skills/Art Worksheet 1 and 2 for the letter M

PE/ Gross Motor Skill Nature Hike

Math 30 Have them measure out the 30’s Have them try to get a hot wheel or other item in this range. Have them then do less than 30 or more than.

SS Thanksgiving tree.

All they need to do today is make their “I’m thankful for..” list I will make leaves and the boys need to make one a day for something they are thankful for.
Reading Rainbow writing words
THURSDAY 

Morning Activity Journals

Handwriting/ Fine motor skills/Art M hidden picture coloring and Poem about M

PE/ Gross Motor Skill Karate

Math 40 Same as 30’s but with 40’s

SS Make a list of people they want to make Thanksgiving cards for

 Reading Color coding sentences


FRIDAY
Handwriting/ Fine motor skills/Art Finding M’s around the house, and in the news.

PE/ Gross Motor Skill Slack Line Walking See directions printed. Have the boys set up a very short one for this week. Once they master one length we will go for something longer.

Math 50 Same as 30’s but with 50’s

SS History of Thanksgiving We need to get books and movies from the library for this lesson 

Reading Writing sentences using site words