Being Honest

I did have a dream. One big happy family.

Sometimes I live a dream come true

It is tax time and at our house that is my job. So after spending the year logging, filing and adding up receipts, I collected all the W- whatevers and headed to the tax office. I am always anxious and nervous about this adventure. Every once in awhile we have to pay in. We don't have the funds sitting around and that stinks. Sometimes we get money back and then think of something fun to do with it, then realize we have to pay bills.

This year was a bit different. There is a giant international adoption tax credit. We need it. I was afraid I would screw something up and we wouldn't get it. The tax man is delightful and worked hard and did his research so we would be fully set up to get the best credit possible.

We need that tax credit because Mr. Man and Bruiser aren't even paid for yet!

At one point he seemed a bit lost. He sat back, looked up at me and exclaimed, "I am sorry. I am having a hard time getting past the fact that you and your husband altered your lives forever and brought home three children." He emphasized three. He went on to talk about his admiration and how we had changed their lives forever and what a gift we had given them.

We hear this a lot. A whole lot. I always reply with some kind of phrase like, 'well yes, but what they have given us is so much more...' And I mean this. I do.

I had room in my heart, if not in my home. I knew deep down I was supposed to mother a whole herd. I get to rock babies to sleep nearly every night, do the potty dance and hand out stickers for weird achievements. I get to wrestle and kiss and read and finger paint. I make play dough and dress dolls and push trucks. With my big girls I watch cooking shows, try new recipes, talk about school, help with homework, advise, prod, hug, snuggle on the couch. I am busy and that is good because I don't sit well.

No, we weren't thinking of jumping!

But really there is another truth behind that selfless reply. You bet I changed their lives and what a gift I have given them. I chase, wash, clean up, pick up, put away, spank, count time out, pack odd lunches, make odder breakfasts, referee between different groups and pairs on an hourly basis. I explain, organize, plead, discipline and feel guilty. I read, study, research and ask any number of resources for advice and help.

I pray. But not at church because church has n't been a quiet prayerful place for me for 12 months.

I live for these sweet moments. And there are plenty of them.

But can you see how I have aged?

I lean on friends and family and have a whole village trying to keep me sane.

So, to be honest, there are a lot of moments when I have to admit that I feel like, "wow what a gift we are trying to give you." I hope we survive it.

No one said it would be easy. No book, blog, website, family or friend EVER said 'Well this will be a blast!'

It isn't easy. But is it good and right. While days when I actually feel as though they are giving back may not be one right after the other, they happen. There are loving moments to act as a salve to the scalds of fit throwing and door slamming.

So being honest, I love them. I love my family of 7. I love most days. I love most parts of this chaotic life.

But not all. And that is just the truth.

No more firsts...

Tomorrow is Valentine's day, it was celebrated at BT on Friday. I don't know why. But as far as I can tell #3 celebrating Valentine's Day at school is the last 'FIRST' we have. From here on out whatever comes our way on the calendar has been seen before. It is a comfortable feeling.

I am done explaining things to #3. She gets things easier now and feels a certain amount of confidence in what comes next and how things go. Whew.

The twins are potty training and doing quite well so soon I will be logging 'lasts' instead of 'firsts.'

On February 28th the twins will move to the 'TWO's' room at the Creche. Officially out of the baby room. I am going to have to stop referring to them as the 'babies' and start calling them the 'twins.'

I think I am ready for this. I am at a place of peace with my family: the size, the feel, the philosophy, all of it.

This hasn't always been the case. I was in mourning, truly, after my hysterectomy. It took a long time to begin the adoption process because I had to 'process' my own state of mind and heart.

I held on to every last step of #2's babyhood. I let her sleep in my bed, I rocked her way past the age of rocking, I made excuses for her when she behaved badly. She was my baby.

Deep down in a very dark place I feared that she was my last. That I would never snuggle, smell, giggle, tickle, rock, another baby again. As #3 grew up in the orphanage, I believed this to be true more and more.

Then suddenly here are my babies. Loving me and needing me and terrorizing the house.

I think having them has been healing. It has also provided me with new confidence and balance as I parent the older children. I am not sure that makes sense. But I feel it.

So a year of firsts has passed. A year or a life time of 'lasts' stretches before me.

My heart tells me that there will be smiles and tears and new kinds of firsts all mixed in the milestones of my very large family.

Mr. Man

One of the most frustrating parts of the whole process was the fact that somehow our twins were separated. It seemed like once the mistake was noticed it would not have been that big a deal to change. BUT apparently it was and Mr Man was left in Haiti.

We tried to figure out a place for Thomas to stay, a way for us all to stay, predict a schedule, anything that didnt involve separating us all or Thomas flying back. Ultimately that is exactly what happened. We arrived home with the girls on Thursday 2/4, got the call from the state department on Friday 2/5. On Monday, 2/8 Holt called and said "Get to Miami, the kids are coming in late Tuesday." So tickets were purchased, a car rented, hotel reservation made and Thomas was sent to Miami to bring home his son.

It was a nerve wracking couple days for me. I wanted to be there. I had my hands full with two new girls. One who loved me fiercely and had to be held every second and the other who felt the same but threw in some MAJOR fits every hour or so just to keep me on my toes. I was exhausted. I had done all the paper work for 4 years so I knew exactly what was where and what it meant. I sent a clearly labeled, organized and highlighted file with Thomas and just prayed he would make it through.

Dear friends of ours that we met in October would be on this same trip. That was hard as well. How I wanted to be there when the Platts got Braindy. They had been in process as long as we had. Someday Braindy and #3 will marry, this is #3's plan and I am all for it. Again, it wasnt meant to be. Thomas did a great job getting photos and handled every thing just perfectly. He even called home and said, "Hey do I buy shoes for babies from Payless?" Apparently Mr Man was sleeping when it was his turn to be processed and he wasnt wearing shoes. Thomas chose to grab the kid and get out of there. I would have too. So their first father son outing was to buy 'cross trainers' at Payless. The smooth sailing continued right up until he got caught in traffic and was late for his first flight. Mr. Man ate fruit loops in the back of the rental and then took a nap.

At home we were just sick that he wouldn't make it home at all. But the airlines helped out, Thomas and Mr Man hustled and they arrived home Thursday night. Again, the family gathered at the airport, waiting to see how the twins, separated for the first time, would react.

I couldnt wait to get my hands on that baby, but he was a Daddy's boy and stayed that way for the next week. That was hard! The Bruiser was sound asleep so the meeting was a bit anti climatic.

The joy of having a boy in the house was immediate. The beauty of Mr. Man literally took my breath away. I still find myself thinking, "My God he is so beautiful!" As he grows we add funny, and smart, and flirtatious. On and on. There is a difference in having a son.

While Mr Man made me work for the first week, it wasn't long and he was a certified Mamma's boy. His nickname, John John, comes from hours of rocking and looking at each other. He saying Ma Ma and me saying John John. While he loves many and shows enthusiasm and joy for who ever he sees, there is a soft spot in him just for me. I love that.

It was the first of many tight fits in the car on the way home from the airport. 7. Whoa.

Tired, exhausted, overwhelmed, emotional, loving, giddy, joyous, blessed, crazy, catatonic, silly, brave, spirited; we felt all these things. But loaded shoulder to shoulder in the Pilot for the 25 minute ride home we felt the most important thing of all COMPLETE,

Celebrating Gotcha!

The Gotcha Kid in front of a poster made by #3!

The Gotcha Day celebrating began in earnest on Friday, 2/4. We were out of school and this gave us a chance to play and be together without worrying about nap time and other no fun items. We chose to go to the Children's Museum, a summer favorite. The best part was that we met Fairy Godmother, Fairy Godmother's mother and sister and nieces. They are all lovely so the outing became extra special. To top it off, the traveling exhibit is 'The Big Backyard" featuring the Richman Gordman zooland animals! I played on these and watched my youngest brothers play on these in my youth. Watching the kids enjoy them was really fun! Two hours of play time, an ice cream out, a quick stop for some fries and the 3 littles ones, #2 and I were at BT to watch a basketball game. I love basketball so this was a great way to end our day.

#3 thought the day was filled with just the right amount of things!

Next she was on to planning her party!

We invited all Grandparents and hit the grocery store. Dinner: chicken nuggest, homemade pizza, chips and salsa, beans and rice, and a vanilla cake with yellow frosting made by Anna.

This is the cake made by #2 but heavily supervised by #3.

There were posters and much giggling and hugging. No gifts were exchanged. Thank you grandparents for respecting that wish.

Since we officially have TWO Gotcha Days we chose a weekend in between and let #3 plan a party menu. We ended up eating microwave chicken nuggets, pizza, beans and rice and chips and salsa.#2 made a vanilla cake and frosted it with yellow, also #3's plan.

The event was attended by Grandparents only and no presents were exchanged. It was just about gathering together to remember how the first year went by and celebrating our great fortune at being together. Lots of talking about how much the kids have learned and how they have grown. Boy have they!

A year ago we were in the next waiting phase. The girls were home and we were all together on February 3, a Thursday. Friday night February 4 the state department called to say that Jeanel had been granted his parolee status. So we knew Thomas would need to fly soon, but still no definite time table. We watched the Superbowl and had a big meal with Nana and Papa. #3 ate off of plastic doll china (the fanciest plates she had ever seen) and stored about 3 cups of shredded beef and au jus in her purse for later. Thank goodness the hoarding days are over.

Everyone has different memories of these events and the time line. Together we all have a pretty full picture of this important time and the last year. Getting together for Gotcha and family events in the future will ensure that these special memories are never lost!

GOTCHA! Part 1

While there is a bit of unease sensed in this photo it does look every bit grandchild and Nana.

One year ago today I awoke in a Miami Hotel room facing the disappointment that I thought I would awake with my daughters. However, I knew that the social workers were right. Let them get a good night's sleep and the whole paper work process could take place in the light of day and not in the wee hours of the night with tired federal workers, kids, parents, and care giving staff.So I awoke, dressed, ate continental breakfast with Husband and Mom, drove to rent a car and headed off to His House Children's Home. We signed in and in about 15 minutes we loaded a van that drove us to a little house on the campus. We entered the house, showed arm bands and there on the sofa, in the frilliest dress EVER was my #3. Her smile told me she recognized me.

There were tears and hugs. Soon a woman brought me the Bruiser and handed her off. It was love at first snuggle for both of us.

The first meal shared between Bruiser and I. I picked this up easier than diapering!

The day progressed in this little house: lunch was served, we took a walk in the little neighborhood to see our friends and the daughters they were adopting, Bruiser took a nap, we played some more, we looked for a snack. All the families were being called to finalize paper work, it was never our turn.

Finally at about 3p.m. (5 hours later) a woman came to see who we were. "you didn't sign in"

Let me tell you one thing I know for sure and that is that I signed in. I had been dotting i's and crossing t's in a specific way for 4 years. I wasn't going to mess this up on a technicality. BUT I didn't argue, just apologized and off we went, girls in tow, to the main building for photos, paper work and instructions.

Grinning and fancy was how we found #3 that day. She has been mostly grinning and always fancy ever since!

I didn't breathe a sigh of relief till we were in the rental, kids strapped in and Thomas had driven us through the gate. GOTCHA! Now I cried and laughed. They were mine. DONE.

Of course it was bitter sweet because Mr Man was still in Haiti. But we believed in our heart that he would follow soon.

I have so many memories of this event I don't know how to post them all. My fondest by far is of Bruiser. After her nap it was time to change her diaper. I was shown the way to the restroom and where supplies were kept. I laid her down on the changing table and took off the diaper. She immediately peed. Her clothes were drenched. I was now faced with going to the home staff member to explain that I had allowed the baby to pee her clothes, her donated clothes and she would need another outfit. I felt like such a fool. At this point the woman said she would take Bruiser and get her cleaned up and I could go pick out clothes. I began to hand off Bruiser when she cried out, wrap her legs tightly around me and threw herself against me. She chose me. She didn't have to. She only knew me for a few hours and part of that time she was sleeping. But she chose me. It was one of the most amazing moments of my life.

On a lighter note we learned that #3 had sort of commandeered the frilly dress she was wearing. It actually belonged to another adoptee and #3 had somehow ended up wearing it. The family was hoping to take it with them as a memento of their Gotcha day. Rightly so. But we were left to explain to #3 that she had to change clothes and give back the dress. She did so with no complaints. No one knows how she got a hold of that dress. But I know now she is a girl who knows what she wants and when it comes to fashion, well MORE IS MORE!

We returned to the Hotel and after a brief rest in our room we gathered with all the Holt families. 13 to be exact. A lobby full of many languages, giggles, awkward embraces. Many levels of acceptance and union. Another wonderful moment came when I went to sit by another mom and #3 came to sit on my lap. We were joined then by her friend Poulande. The two girls chatted in creole and then #3 asked Poulande a question and she pointed across the room at her new family. Poulande then asked the same question (sounded the same anyway) of #3. She turned to look at me, hugged me, pointed to me and then across at her father and said, Maman and Pappan. I was being introduced!

The trip home through rental car, traffic, 3 air ports was actually pretty smooth. I can hardly believe it. We had rough moments on the plane when we had to take #3's soda away because we were landing, but we all got over it.

The final amazing moment was watching #3 climb the ramp up to her sisters and watching their eyes fill with tears as she approached. All 3 embraced like they hadn't seen each other in a long time. NOT like they were meeting for the first time. They held hands all the way to the luggage and the car. I have no photos of this. All adults holding cameras were emotionally tied to the scene and forgot to photograph. It is etched perfectly in my mind.

The lessons of the past year equal in the 100's. There have been ups and downs. In fact just in the hours between 5:00-7:00p.m tonight #3 told me she loved me, sulked, pitched a fit, set the table, helped her siblings, stomped to her room and then planned her Gotcha party for Saturday. I guess that roller coaster makes us pretty normal. Not easy though.

After a rough first 6 months I think normal is a wonderful thing.

It feels like the year has flown by, it feels like my life has changed in a million ways. But mostly it feels like it is how it has always been. Like it was meant to be.

What a beautiful Anniversary! GOTCHA!