the bond that heals

If you didn't hear me in my last post, let me just say again how appreciative we are for all of the support we are receiving.  So many people are pursuing us through phone calls and emails and face to face visits.

Of course, not one person can resist our daughter's cuteness.

She is magical for sure.

As she is exposed to more and more of our wonderful friends and social circles, I have found myself needing to put this post out there.

Joya has been put through a significant trauma.  She wasn't physically abused, but her emotional life was turned upside down less than three weeks ago when we took her from her foster family and her birth country and culture.

Although she greets most everyone with a "Ha-low" (hello) and has smiles and funny faces and songs that draw us all in, she is still learning who her forever family is.  If you have been reading our China posts, you know that initially she was clinging to Kenyon.  She didn't want anything to do with me for the first week.

Slowly, she tolerated me and allowed me to be the food maker, poop checker, and snot wiper.  But she still almost exclusively wanted her dad.

Now that we are home, she is not panicked when Kenyon is out of sight.  In fact, he is out of town on business for two days and she and I have made some strides.  She comes to me for her needs and accepts affection and comfort from me - she has even initiated affection toward me, which is HUGE to me.

When entering a room, 'normal' toddlers will usually hang back a bit and look to their parents for a 'read' on the situation.  They are cautious and will take cues from their parents on how they are to act in that environment, with those people.

Because she has only been with us 2.5 weeks, Joya still looks to everyone as potential caregivers.

Our main issue at this point in time is trying to help Joya to realize that we are her parents.  While we are so excited for everyone to meet her, I hope you will understand when we redirect her back to ourselves if she asks you to pick her up.  Please feel free to smile at and engage her, blow kisses and talk to her, but please resist the urge to scoop her up and squeeze her.

I know, it is tough to resist.

If she wants food, feel free to bring it to our attention, but it is really important that we be the ones to feed her or "deliver" her food to her.  It's not that we don't want to share her or that we don't want you to touch her.  It's that she needs to learn who her parents are and attach to us in a healthy way.

This takes time and we want to do it right.  We are hoping that you can all understand that we don't desire to be overprotective, but we want to prevent any long term emotional problems by doing this well.  When we see this secure attachment forming, we'll be encouraging her to have relationships with other adults as we do with our sons.

So, please come see us and enjoy our entertaining children!  We know you'll do nothing but support us and thank you in advance for honoring our request.

the tough decisions

I'm sitting here on our first snowy morning of the school year.  Yup, you read that right - snow.  Although I'm not really ready to give up flip flops and short sleeves, I know this is the price we pay to live in the mountains and enjoy all the benefits of a ski town.

So, I'm choosing to embrace it.  I have a hot cup of coffee sitting next to my computer and the fireplace is roaring to keep me toasty.

My problem this morning is that I'm also sitting here staring at Sauce's binder that contains his homework that he so diligently worked on yesterday afternoon, and every day for that matter.  He rarely gives me much trouble when requested to complete his homework before having more fun.  He is careful with his answers, has neat handwriting, and generally takes pride in a job well done.

My first instinct was to hop in the car and bring it to him at school.  But, after some internal-parental-decision-making-wrestling, I decided that the only way he won't depend on Mommy to make sure his homework gets to school one way or another is to NOT bring it to him.

Ouch.  You see, this is the first time I've had to do this with my #2. 

Our #1 has been giving us a run for our money for years with things like this.  Last month, when fifth grade grades started streaming in, The Hunter was trying to explain away three zeros on homework assignments and a D+ on a quiz.

My man and I had to make it undeniable that the buck stopped right then and there.  The Hunter is passionate about karate training and he had a quarterly testing event to advance to the next belt color coming up.  It was harder for us than it was for him to miss that testing and remain at his current belt level.

The boy was heartbroken, angry, and embarrassed in front of his karate friends.  It was really hard for us to endure and he tried every way he could think of to change our minds.

Lo and behold, two weeks later we are seeing nothing but A's and an occasional B streaming in.  Admittedly, it has taken much more effort on my part as well.  I'm having to pester him to remember to bring home his homework, review each assignment with a fine tooth comb, make him redo incorrect work, and remind him to actually TURN IN his completed homework.

But, I'm seeing more proactive behavior from him.  He's learning how to succeed and little by little he is developing independence in this area.  It has NOT been easy.  But it HAS been worth it.

So, after reflecting on that victory, I'm expecting Sauce to come home from school upset about forgetting his binder.  I might even get a call from him asking me to bring it in.  But I'm holding out hope that this tiny lesson will reap great profits of personal responsibility for him in the future.

if you gang up on mom...

You'll need stitches.

God doesn't give four boys to just ANY mom.

I just need to know when to contain my super-human strength.

My entire brood of men (including my beloved) joined forces to gang up on me tonight and pin me down, except one of my freakishly strong legs broke free and pushed one of my small men into the corner of a dresser.

Quite a headache.

And a lesson - I hope, for all of us.