Granted, this is not the first time I've wondered this about my children. Most people I know would love to spend an hour swimming around in Violet's head. Let's just say that child thinks waaay "out of the box." I can visibly see the wheels turning in Chloe's head and I know it's not just about unicorns and rainbows. She's probably figuring out the most efficient way to structure her day, solve world hunger and become president.
The other day I watched Bozi look out the front window. He just stood there and stared. He soaks up everything. He watched the cars that randomly drove by, looked at the plants and checked out the structure of the window frame--probably making sure it is stable (as most two-year-olds do). I don't know if the windows were low enough at the orphanage for him to look out, maybe this is the first time he has been able to do that. Maybe his crib was against a wall and not on the window side of the room. Maybe there weren't many windows. I never actually saw his room. I planned to ask, but on the day we picked him up little details like that were far from my mind. I didn't ask a lot of things I probably should've.
While I read to him at bedtime and naptime he doesn't always look at the books. Many times, he rolls against me, his body facing mine, sucking on his finger, looks up and looks so deeply into my eyes. Sometimes he is waiting for me to smile at him, so he can smile back and giggle, other times I feel like he's searching my face for answers.Are you going to stay?
What am I doing here?
Why are you so white? (no, I haven't shown him Mean Girls)
Will I go back to where I was?
Well, I don't know that a two-year-old has all that going through his head, but it goes through mine. I do know the feelings and sense of insecurity associated with those questions are felt by him. I see those in his little face sometimes and can tell by his behavior. As he goes to sleep, if he is not against me, he reaches out to touch me in some way. Sometimes, it's holding his hand, his feet propped on me, his whole body leaning over my stomach, just leaning up against me or his leg thrown over mine.
Just so you know, I took a shower today, my kids have matching (ish) clothes on and have eaten. So, in my mind, I'm basically killing it right now, ha. As we drive to our home we pass many homes that were flooded. Possessions are in big piles on the side of the road. This is just one example in a line of homes on the street. I feel so grateful and guilty at the same time. Everyone around us has something going on in their lives right now, whether it's transition, major hurricane damage, illness or in my case, adoption. I am happy major hurricane damage is not on my list. As I watch and try to help my friends who are dealing with the results of the hurricane, I wish it wasn't on their list either. In fact, I'm still collecting donations for a friend who lost their home here.When the girls turned a year old, Kev and I wrote letters for them to read when they got older. To
both of my girls I wrote about my desire for them to have compassion and love for others. It's something I've wanted to teach and instill in them. They have learned to serve others, they reach out to friends who are hurting, they love on people who are lonely and reach out to the new kids. For all practical purposes and compared to most, bragging mom over here, I've got some pretty sweet girls. Through this process of coming home with Bozi I've realized some things. Compassion is easy when it's on your terms and the child you are adopting is a cute picture or a Skype call once a week. But, true compassion isn't centered around us or our schedule, it's centered around another individual and their needs. This is the type of compassion I prayed for them to have years ago. It is not the easy kind that I just listed out examples of. I wanted them to have the type of compassion where they were OK if it cost them something. So far their "easy" compassion skills have gotten them pats on the back, approval from teachers and other parents and good feelings from their friends. Learning to have compassion for their new brother is a whole different ballgame. It's costing them to add him to the family, that applies in any situation. It costs them time with us, changes in our routine and changes in our schedule. The difference is it's not like an infant who sleeps most of the day and lets you adjust slowly to the new norm. We crash-coursed with a one-nap-a-day kid who is awake 99% of the time they are at home, thinks the girls' toys are cool to throw, wants mommy all to himself and cries a lot. It's hard. They are adjusting. We are all adjusting, but it is slow. They are gaining a lot as well. They are gaining a sweet little boy who will hopefully love them to death one day and drive them nuts, like any little brother should. They are gaining a deeper understanding of how love, compassion and sacrifice go hand-in-hand. Pray for our Chloe and Violet. Pray for wisdom for us as parents and pray for our Bozi.We visited the pediatrician this week. Our pediatrician is ahhh-mazing. She adopted boys from Russia and took her time with Bozi and me. Trying to get a clear picture of the situation he came out of at the orphanage helps shed light on the accuracy of their records. We talked about immunizations. She said sometimes parents choose to start over with immunizations because the reports don't look accurate and other times we can do a blood test to see if they've actually had them. She discussed all of our concerns and we set up an appointment in a couple of weeks. She needed time to review the files I gave her and I need to set up an evaluation with the Children's Developmental Services Agency (CDSA) of the Cape Fear office of the NC Department of Health and Human Services.
The CDSA will evaluate Bozi next week and determine what where he is developmentally and type of therapies he will need. Our pediatrician thinks he will need speech therapy, occupational therapy, and physical therapy. I'm anxious to get the ball rolling. Bozi took his first steps on his own yesterday. He had taken a few steps at the orphanage, but since we have had him with us he has only held hands and walked or crawled. It was so exciting. He was so proud. He giggled, smiled so big and wouldn't stop walking until he was physically exhausted. Some sweet friends who brought us dinner were able to witness the big show.
That's the general excitement around here. We are still cocooning in our own way, sticking close to home, doing a couple short trips out to places like the grocery store or the park to help Bozi adjust to being around people and in different environments. We are the primary people that hold him, feed him and meet his needs. Even once we begin venturing out more, this part will remain consistent. We pray he develops a healthy attachment to us. He spent 24 hours every day of his entire life in the same room, with the same faces and the same routine. Just going out of the house is kind of a big deal. We are trying to remain in environments we can control for this season. We are keeping a stable schedule for him so he knows what to expect as he gets comfy.It's a new norm and it's pretty cool. I look around the house and see the different kiddo toys strewn all around. I see his sweet face when he gets super excited to eat dinner and smiles so big. I watch the girls get so excited to talk to him, see him in the morning and after school. They give him kisses until he starts pushing them away. I wonder what he would be doing and how things would be different if he weren't a part of our lives. What if we never pursued this path? I'm so glad that "what if" isn't even an option. I'm thankful Bozi is finally home and a part of our family. I'm thankful my girls will come out of this stronger, with a greater understanding of God's love and a deeper compassion for others. Much like my Bozi, those qualities do not come easy, but they are so worth it.
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