A Good Day

A long day...

A hard day...

But a good day.


First of all, did it not anywhere in our homestudy say that we are NOT morning people?  I was sure that we made it clear that we are night owls (except one) and that was THE most important thing when it came to matching us with kids.  Did it not say that?  Yeah, well, if we ever adopt again... it's going to be in the cover letter-in all caps, in bold font, with red ink.  Diana and John were up at 6:20 this morning.  Since they're in my room, guess who's in charge.  We changed a diaper, drove some RC cars, accidentally woke up Yuli, who unfortunately had wet the bed she was so tired, and made merry for a little while before I decided that the other room needed to be up too.  Let's face it, if I hadn't woken them up then we'd have three kids getting up at 6 and three kids going to bed at midnight.  That's not working for me.

Poor little John, he breaks my heart.  He misses Mamí Alla so much.  Diana told me today what he's saying and what her name is.  [Side note: If you are ever going to adopt a sibling group, make sure that the oldest one is sharp.  This is awesome... I just go to Diana and say, "Cómo se dice..." and then point to something and she tells me.  It's fantastic.]  Anyway, by the time we got to breakfast, he was just done with me.  He was sooo mad.  And I'm not quite sure how it happened but at one point, he just yelled, "Papa" and reached for Ken.  So Ken has been on duty hard core all day with the little guy.  I've got the other five but I really think he drew the short stick.  We went to the park that's around the corner after breakfast because six kids in two hotel rooms... well, I'm sure you can imagine.  He saw something (we think it's the church on the way) that reminded him of Mamí Alla and he was just miserable.  When we got home, the kids played and I realized that he hadn't peed (sorry for the TMI) since I changed his diaper when he woke up.  Bad news.  Then Ken went with Patrice (not Patricio, sorry) to the grocery store.  Bad move.  He cried almost the whole time Ken was gone, "Mamí Alla, Papa, Mamí Alla, Papa..."  The other five kids were needing my attention (turns out that Yuli is a Mamma's girl after all) and I sat down because she wanted me to read to her.  And let's face it, there was nothing I could do for John except hold him and be there for him.  So hard.  [Side note:  best choice of stuff to pack were some children's books in Spanish.  Not only because Yuli likes for me to read to her but Diana likes to read to us AND me reading Spanish book without having to pause to find the right words creates a famililar cadence and John quit crying and fell asleep on my lap.]  Ken got home and two minutes later John woke up and cried out, "Papa!"  He was attached to Ken ALL. DAY. LONG.  Ken had purchased some power aid since we were concerned with dehydration and we managed to get him to drink it.  That would be the royal 'we' because John ain't having nothin' to do with me.  He did start feeling better and having short intervals of peace with us (I mean peace with Ken) but he is hurting so bad.

I'm struggling with the whole thing.  I know why this is.  There was no foster father.  John has no vision of what a Papa is so when you tell him, "I am Papa" it's ok.  He does, however, have a very clear picture of what (who) Mamí is and I ain't it.  I get it.  Mostly, what hurts the most is seeing how much he's hurting.  He's been with her for two years, essentially his whole life.  And if I know anything, I know she LOVES these kids.  We weren't expecting anything to come with them, we know they lived near poverty level, if not below.  However, the kids were wearing brand new clothes when she sent them to us.  She sent photos and photo books of them for the kids.  She sent a shirt and a pillow that she made for John.  She LOVES these kids.  And, they love her.  And that's what stinks about adoption.  It's a beautiful thing, adoption is.  But there is ALWAYS loss. The birth family loses their kids (usually through choices they made) and while I don't want to make excuses for someone's poor choices, I know that there's loss there.  Foster parents, extended family, social workers, and everyone who is involved each leave a piece of their hearts with each kid they help.  Adoptive parents lose something too.  I've already thought about how Mamí Alla was the one heard John's first words and saw his first steps.  There are seven years in Diana's life, MY DAUGHTER'S life, that I will never know.  I don't think I can even begin to cover the loss of the kids.  Adoption is beautiful, but this is hard.  Amazing and wonderful, but not easy.  And we're just getting started.

Now on to some good stuff.  John seems to be attaching to Ken well.  He is just so little and needs time to adjust and time to mourn his loss.  Now that the initial shock is over, their personalities are truly coming out.  Diana is amazing and funny and dramatic.  She is handling this all so very well.  She's already testing the boundries and seeing how much she can get away with.  She can keep up with Rylan on the playground.  But the most interesting part is... Do you want to know a secret?  I've ALWAYS imagined having twins.  I've always wanted twins.  I wanted those twins to be one boy, one girl.  [Do you have the song in your head now?]  Before we left, I was joking about Cody and Diana being my twins since their birthdays are 3 weeks apart.  She told me that I should introduce them like that.  Haha!  The crazy thing is Diana is so much like Cody in personality that I'm afraid...truly afraid.  Isn't it funny how God answers prayers?

Yuli is turning out to be a Mamma's girl.  When she sees me, her whole face lights up and she yells, "Hola!"  and I say, "Hola!" and she runs and jumps into my arms and I say "Cómo estás?" and she says, "Bien" and I say, "Yo tambien.  Yo te quiero." and she hugs me big time.  (Translation:  Hello!  Hello!  How are you?  Good. Me too.  I love you.)  It's so amazing.  She's loud, so she fits right in.  She's got a little bit of a princess attitude and pitched a fit when I told her she was not allowed to drive the RC car down the stairs.  I have to admit, it was pretty cute.  She seems to be adjusting well but at one point when John was crying, I said to her, "John está triste."  (John is sad.) and she got a funny look on her face.  I asked her, "Estás triste tambien?"  (Are you sad too?) and she nodded.  Again I am reminded of the loss. 

But God is bigger than loss.  He alone redeems us all.  He has taken the children from a broken family living in a broken world and used them to bless us more than we deserve.  I was so excited yesterday in that office waiting to meet my kids when the ICBF person told us that we were an answer to their prayers, a family to take all three of them.  No, that's not right.  These kids are an answer to our prayers, not the other day around.  Hard day?  Yes.  Long day?  Absolutely.  Would I trade it for anything in the world?  No way.  Thank you all for your prayers.  I know that the prayers of the righteous are heard and I know that it's your prayers covering us that have made this first day go so smoothly.  I know that many of you have been praying for the kids' ability to adjust well.  It's working.  We truly appreciate each of you that have loved, prayed for, supported, helped, and encouraged us through this process.  Keep praying, I've got tomorrow coming up.

For the record, I have been taking pictures with their faces in them... these ones I took just for you.