Dethroning A Princess

We used to joke with our Gladney Social Worker Mary T. about "dethroning a princess" as we waited those long months to bring home Big and Little S. Little did we know that months later, we would be in the throws of just that. And to quote my sweet son: "let me tell you something"......... it isn't pretty.

See, we had a little princess floating and flitting around our house for approximately 19 months. And in Addis Ababa, the process of "making a princess" was taking place. We knew Miss Little S was quite the charmer: sweet, coy, an infectious laugh, and incredibly hugable. Sweet Pickles was just that....sweet....and good to the core. Ok,,,we had some terrible two moments, bu t basically she's been an easy child since we brought her home in November 2007. The girls hit it off immediately....almost like they were in the womb together. We marvelled at how seemless it seemed...like they had always been sisters. Oh, but wait......the honeymoon ended.

Fast forward a few months......time for the kids to start school; preschool for the little two "princesses" and AWANA on Sunday nights at church. Hence, the dethroning process began. Little Miss S began to realize that her ever so charming, sweet laugh and smile could melt the hearts of many again and she turned on the charm. And so it began.........

You can see the manipulation going on in her little head: hmmmmm.....Mommy isn't falling for my cute/pretty smile....she sees right through me. If she isn't going to give me what I want, I'm going to find someone who will. At a preschool field trip, she climbed into a complete stranger (man's) lap. She looked at me as if to say: "So...what are you going to do about that?"

It's a good think Mommy had some great training on adopting an older (than an infant) child because I saw right through the "charming" moments.

It began a few months ago when my dear friend, Ann, came to visit us from Connecticut. She manipulated my poor friend, completely clueless as to what was going on right under her nose. After a few of those moments, Ann caught on and quickly allied with me. Little Miss S was not a happy camper, you see, because IT WAS NOT WORKING like it was at preschool and Awana. I felt I constantly had to defend my position on what Little Miss S was allowed and not allowed to do. Mommy had become a Mommy with a lot of rules: no hugging anyone but Mommy, Daddy, Granny, Poppa, sister and brothers, among others. Little Miss S had to come to me or D
addy to get the attention she needed. And then the bad behavior started...and honestly, I can't and won't give affection to a child who is acting out in order to get it. We also put us in charge of when we are affectionate with her, not the other way around.

Little Miss S is not happy......

Her beautiful face has seen more frowns of late than those first few months.....

Little Miss S is trying everything she can to control the situation.....

emptying her bladder on purpose....

spitting at her brother....

kicking her brother.....all because she wanted me to tie her shoes, not him.

I could go on, but I know you can fill in the blanks.

I'm tired,,,,,,,

yet determined.....

I'm not happy of late,

but won't give up.

I want her to be pretty from the inside too, not just from the outside.

I want to see a good heart in her...

Dethroning a princess is hard work....

it goes against the norm...

it's uncomfortable....

it's constantly feeling like you have to defend yourself....

But love will prevail......into God's hands I have placed her....

The Great Physician will heal her heart.......her pain.....and her fears........

because forever I will be her Mommy.

Can We Adopt You???

This question was asked of me this week.

I had to smile, and maybe giggle a little. Helllllooooooooooooo, I'm going to be 4o-something next month.

The question came from a 60-something year old woman who has unofficially assumed the role of "mom" to me. She's had no biological children of her own, yet has take me under her wing, giving me wings to soar, courage to be strong, yet weak with her unconditional love and support. I love her more I could have dreamed possible.

Today is Momma J & Poppa Dave's 47th anniversary. Do you know, that although they did not birth me, I am their daughter in every way possible. Look at the numbers....I would have been born 13 months after they married....is that a coincidence, or another one of God's bigger plans that we can't get our arms around.

And, today, I called to say "hi" but forgot it was their anniversary (am I horrible or what???).

They want to adopt me.......Can you adopt a 40-something year old woman legally? No, probably not, but I wish they could. I've often wondered what my life would have been like to be born to different parents? Southern parents to boot. Would I be a different women? a different mom? I don't know, but know God has woven this incredible tapestry called my life and I'm amazed at how it all fits together......

Why, do you ask, does Momma J want to adopt me? Because I asked Poppa Dave to say the prayer over Big S when he gets baptized soon. The honor truly belongs to him: as a Poppa to me and a GrandPoppa to my children. I'll be sure and post pictures of this moment, which I'm sure will be memorable!

"Mommy, I Don't Want to be Brown"

"Mommy, I don't want to be brown."

"Mommy, what color ARE you? Orange?"

"No, Big S, Mommy's 'color' is actually called 'white.'"

"Mommy, I don't want to be brown."

"Mommy, I love you.....kissy....huggy....kissy....huggy......"

My, I wish I knew what to say, how to say explain it other than "God made us all different and I love you just the way God made you."

"But Mommy, Squeeker is white too."

My heart is breaking, I'm at a loss for words. One color is not better than another, God just made us different and I absolutely LOVE that three of my children are brown.

And yesterday, it was:

"Mommy, Squeeker and Della are lucky,,,,he's been with you forever." Yes, sweetie, they have been here longer, but God chose the perfect time for you and your sister to join our family. Remember the story of Squanto that we read the other night? How he was taken away to Spain and sold as a slave to monks --- and then went to England, and ten years later, God sent him back to his village in Massachusetts where the Pilgrims were. And through all the sadness, God turned it to good. God uses our sadness to help others. And the last page of the book, what do you remember Squanto doing Bis S? "Squanto was raising up his hands and praising God like you do Mommy,...,and I don't like it when you do that....it embarrasses me." Yes, Big S, Squanto was praising God because he too will bring joy you from your sadness.

Is it a coincidence that we just so happen to be reading Squanto, when it's about losing a family and finding a new one?

......No, I believe in God's divine power. I see it every day in the life of my children.

And then.......

"Mommy, Squeeker is your 'real' son." That one really threw me for a loop. I immediately put a a stop to that. Because I birthed one child and not the others does not make one "real" and the others not. It really hurt my heart about how society defines who is a "real" child.......they are all REAL, they are ALL my children. God designed our family in a very unique and special way -- every day I thank God for how he wove the tapestry of our family together.

If I had to be honest, I think I am harder on Squeeker because he is the oldest, he's been here longer, he knows what the expectations are, and he's is leading the other children by example.

One day at a time.......one hug at a time....one prayer at a time.....

Healing will come.......God is in control.

The Brokenness in Love -- What Noone is Willing to Talk About

Beware.......this post is going to be brutally honest about some of the challenges, hurts, and deep pain that comes with older children adoption.

The other day, Big S and I were talking about 'trust.' I'm realizing every day now that he's home with me during the day as we communicate in English better that there are a lot of nuances in our language that he just doesn't get. Stuff we take for granted because most of us have raised our children since infancy and they have learned common words, phrases and expressions through normal everyday observation. It's really hard trying to describe these things! The last few weeks he's learned more cultural nuances than actual schoolwork, but hey, he's learning and that's all that matters to me.


We've been working on argumentive behavior -- honestly, it just wears me out! From our numerous conversations I'm not sure he even knows he was arguing. Now, I look at him so I have his attention and tell him in a gentle voice, "you are arguing with me?" I usually have to tell him repeatedly (that's when I get really frustrated!). But, I think he's getting it and it's been alot calmer around the house.

He is enjoying the Mommy time when the girls' nap. We either go outside and play, or read on the bed/couch. Today, we read our poetry and Mother Goose Rhymes on the trampoline. All was going well, until he blurted out: "I want to go back to Ethiopia." Hmmm...guess he took me seriously on the "trust" thing. It felt like a punch to the heart, but I knew it wasn't personal and he was trying to express his pain, his brokenness of the loss he doesn't understand. The past few weeks have been filled with "Mommy doesn't like me," "Mommy doesn't love me," followed almost immediately with that sly little smile of his. I know he's testing me, I know he's scared that I too will "give him up." Thankfully, out Social Worker came for one of her regular visits last weekend and talked to us about some things we needed to be on the look-out for. Not sure if this is part of the grief process; I know deep down inside he's still very fearful. Fear can control his behavior but we've done a lot to help him with feeling safe and secure with us. But today, I had to tell him that he couldn't go back to Ethiopia right now, which of course, prompted the "I want to run away" comment. Very hard to step back, breathe, and not take it personal. I know that was a test!

Yet to see the pain, the hurt, and the feeling of loss was so deep on his face today, that it took all I could not to cry. For him, I had to be strong, to be his rock, his security, so he knows ALWAYS that I'm his Mommy, and Daddy is his Daddy and we are a family.

The hardest part is watching the brokenness as he talked about his Ethiopian family and wondering why he had to leave. What do you say? Are there any words that could even begin to comfort??? Although I was right there with him on the trampoline, his pain was something I couldn't take from him....I couldn't protect him, take the hurt away......fix the booboo. And that was hard. He wiggled, squirmed, rolled his way all over the trampoline as he talked, I listened, offered words of encourgement, reassurance of Mommy & Daddy's love is forever. But I knew he has to work through this grief in his own way in order to heal, in order to be whole again. I can only be a bystander. The hardest job as a mother is to see your child in pain knowing nothing you can do will make it better for them.

And then, like a lightbulb, his glum and somber mood changed to happy, playful and comedic. Just like that. He spent the rest of the day just being a boy, but Mommy was worn out by the emotions. Maybe I did take some of the weight off his shoulders, maybe that's why I'm so tired tonight. He's upstairs, fell asleep listening to Wee Sing Nursery Rhymes that he begged me to turn on. In some ways, he wants to "go back" emotionally to a time when he doesn't remember the hurt, the feelings of being abandoned. Maybe listening to Nursery Rhymes is just what he need......transported emotionally back to a time before the hurt that I'll never be able to comprehend.