Small Triggers

The adjustments seemed to start revealing themselves right after Anita's 7th Birthday. We can't pin point the exact date or what "triggered" it but they just started to "appear" more frequently. As we tried to rack our brains on what was happening and why, we couldn't put our finger on it. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary ... and then I guess it all can be so small, those triggers can be just so sneaky and small.
Soon after Anita's birthday, her closest friend in her class moved to Arizona. Losing Darla was devastating to us and we had no idea the effect it would have on Anita. She played it off pretty well. Never seemed to mind too much but then again, haven't people and friends constantly come and gone in her life. Ugh! As the days passed, slowly a withdrawn, spacey, wondering deer in head lights little girl started appearing. She would literally check out and be in her very own world. She's happy in this state. She never seems upset but she's just not "with us" either. Her attention is not here and has been devoted to somewhere and something else. I'll joke with one of my closest girlfriends (practically a sister) and say "she goes to that world you like to go to!" My friend smiles and says "that world is WAY MORE FUN!" I just sigh and smirk. My heart doesn't want her to feel like she has to cope. Because this is what she is doing, coping. She's safe here! I want to shout it. She's safe ... "YOU are safe, how does Mommy show you are safe!?" She's safe with her Mommy and Daddy! We aren't going to leave her! We're not! But how does a surviving, smart, intelligent, little girl know she's safe and this family, she has grown to love, will not leave her? My heart breaks and in the same moment I'm angry b/c she wants to check out. I want her to talk to me and reveal what she's thinking and yet she searches for the perfect words she thinks I want to hear. "Oh my daughter, I want you to reveal you, not what they told you I wanted ... but you, the good, the angry, the sad, the happy ... the Anita who's hiding!"

As I recalled back at this "trigger" in our journey and while I frantically re-read my books on hand ... I was enlightened to read about memory triggers in our lives. These triggers can be subconscious and perhaps they cannot even be conveyed with words but they are triggers enough to cause us to "feel" different and be snapped back into ill feelings. And as I read this my eyes stopped and I read it again. We accepted Anita and Maxwell's referral in the spring of '09. Could her body be reacting subconsciously to the trauma she experienced when she was taken from her Grandma Victoria and placed in the Foster Home? Could this be her trigger? She has yet to speak about it. Won't say a bad thing about her transition. Yes, it was sad but she was fine. And at this, my heart breaks for my little girl who is so strong and trying so hard to show she's a survivor. She's coping and cannot even recognize its happening. In time my sweet girl, we'll help you in time. I can't imagine being 4 yrs old and simply taken from what I know and put in a foster home so unfamiliar, so unprotected, so chaotic, and so unloving. I'm sure I would check out and go to my happy world too...

Not always pretty

As the past couple months have passed, life in the Turner house has become slightly different. I haven't tried to be absent from my blogging but my "time" is scarce. My absent state from blogging has more reasons attached than I necessarily want to blast to the world about but I have started to ponder and realize ... blogging can be therapeutic; it can bring reflection; it can be our diary; it can be our log of events. Events which come and go quickly and are hard to track without simply writing them down. The past 9 months have felt long and yet, I look back and see how much my littles have grown! They have changed physically and mentally. There are many of times I tell A & M ... "Mommy doesn't want you to grow anymore, no more!" They giggle and say "Noooo Mommy, we want to be big like you!" And although this is all said in love and giggles there is a small part of my heart breaking because I've only had 9 months, 9 FAST months to soak in all they are and all they are becoming.

As mentioned before, my absence from blogging has involved a little more than being busy. I'll try and be honest and forthright without offending anyone. The more I start writing, please do realize this is coming from our house and we, as Turner's, are all learning together. Our adoption journey is just that "ours." I cannot say every moment is pretty and I'm quickly reminded and encouraged by many that "parenthood is not always pretty." But as the saying goes "I wouldn't change it for the world!"
Anita and Maxwell have started to experience more and more adjustment issues. Perhaps they are just more apparent or coming to light but we are trying to be in full awareness now. Whereas we might have not been so in tune in the past. As I continue to converse with my fabulous adoptive mom friends, we're able to support and encourage one another through our questions, observations, joys and struggles. Through this, I am learning a lot. And while I learn ... I'll share what I can as our Turner journey continues.

Fell in ...

I wish I could have laughed about it in the moment. But no, not me, I was infuriated. He fell in ... seriously, fell in the water! He wasn't listening. That's all that ran through my brain ... HE DIDN'T LISTEN (again.) My mom had to remind me, "Anna, at least he's ok and didn't fall in the pool. And Paul was there. And he only fell in the jacuzzi." BUT all I could do was be mad and think, Maxwell, you didn't listen to the directions we gave you. Because I know my little man is so smart and can almost recite verbatim what you say ... I think it makes the "not listening" so much harder. He told me exactly how many times Paul told him to not walk on the tile. He told me how many times I told him to stay away from the water and just watch. Either way ... he fell in. How does the saying go? "Curiosity kills the cat." There is a waterfall wall which separates my parents pool from the jacuzzi. Their pool guy, Paul, was cleaning today and Maxwell wanted to "watch." The directions were very clear "Maxwell, do not touch, do not help, you can only watch Paul. Stay AWAY from the water." "Ok mom." Well, apparently that little "bridge" was all too tempting to try and feat. I remember being a kid and walking back and forth on those tiles but I knew how to swim. I remember my mom and dad saying not to "walkin on the tile," simple because they feared us falling in the water. But the excitement to conquer the little bridge without falling in was so much more exciting. I think this excitement it what will get my little man into trouble so many of times. As he walked acorse this little bridge twice .. he didn't make it the second time. He fell in the jacuzzi. Luckily it was just the jacuzzi! Had it been the pool, I might have cried. Maybe I was so mad and frustrated because it really was fear ... fear that something so much worse could have happened. And I couldn't help but be mad at myself. I trusted Maxwell, but maybe I shouldn't have put so much trust in a 4 year old. In the end, I am thankful ... thankful for Paul, who was there to drag him out soaking wet. Thankful I get to kiss my little man good-night because he "fell in."

HER Birthday!

Mommy's first birthday for one of her little ones ... I was so excited. The budget was tight but I wasn't sure it mattered. To Anita, it didn't, we know that. She doesn't have much to compare to, so it was all going to be so magical. As the planning began, we started out with one party. This one party quickly changed to two. You see, Anita was so excited about her Birthday, she was telling all her friends in her class about her "Birthday PaarrTay!" In the month of January, she would get in the car from school and say "Mommy, so and so wants to come to my party." As I sat and wondered, how the heck so and so knows about the party, it dawned on me, she was telling everyone and willingly inviting them as well. In lieu of squashing her spirits, we decided to run with it. If she was proud enough to invite everyone and not be ashamed of being "Anita" then we were going to honor this and give her two parties. One at the park and one at the house. Explaining to Anita why her parties were on a Friday and Saturday and not on her birthday made Adam and I giggle. As she read her invitations (b/c she's reading now) she just kept saying "the 4th? Mommy, my birthday is on the 2nd." "We know honey, but your party is on the 4th." "Why? My birthday is on the 2nd." Oh how we felt like we were in a comedy scene. A party? A birthday? Weren't they the same? In Anita's eyes, yes, they were.
Her countdown to her birthday was bigger than Christmas. She was ecstatic! Everyday she would ask, "is tomorrow February? Is next week my birthday? Is the party this Friday?" It was so cute to watch and hear. How special life must be to have a party all about YOU, when you've never had one. She had been to a few birthday parties already so she kind of knew what to expect ... she was just waiting for her BIG day!
On February 2nd Daddy got Anita up ... as she walked into the bathroom to take a shower, she just stood there with the biggest smile. She radiated! Anita's not a morning person, so this smile said so much. "Happy Birthday sweetheart!" She just kind of skipped, jumped, and grinned ... elated ...elated is a good word to describe what I saw.
I love this little girl. Her heart is sweet. Her mind is intelligent. Her words are so special. She speaks fondly of all those who cross her path. She's thankful for what she had in Ghana and never speaks an ill word. Life might not compare but she just savors all of it.
Her parties were a success. Friends, more friends, family, and more family all showed in support of little Miss. Anita's Birthday. She's 7 now ... and so proud to be 7. With the biggest grin and lots of missing teeth, she is so ELATED to be 7!

Maxwell'ism's"

I just had to write some of these down before they are lost and fade to memory. Maxwell and Anita have their own way of saying many of things. Maybe because they don't know any different or are still learning the English language, but either way, it makes us smile, and often laugh. So, to share a few ... here are some Maxwell"ism's."
- "Heggs" or Eggs?
- "Up steps" or Upstairs
- When my hair is curly, Maxwell says "Mommy's hair rasta." Others say "Farrah Fawcet."
- "Change my dress?" or Change my clothes?
- "I send it" or I want to bring it with me.
- "Knickers" are his pants
- "Urinate" and "Wee wee" have been replaced with "potty" & "pee pee"
- "Off it ... On it" or Turn it off and on?
- "Turn the music harder" or turn the music louder
- "Mommy, pass, pass!" ... Um, no, Mommy cannot just drive in the bike lane as she pleases.
- "cot" or cat
- "Mommy, let me SHOW you something." ... Mommy, let me TELL you something.

Anita is catching on all too quickly. Her mind is a sponge and she soaks every ounce in. Her Anita'ism's are far and few between now. She laughs at Maxwell when he says things. I smile and think "Oh little one, it wasn't but a few weeks ago, you were right there with him! LOL."

You look tired ...

So ... I often find myself now realizing my struggles. Perhaps it's "settling in" being a mom and all but I find my high energy and excitement fading at times. I have to work harder to stay positive with all those around me. I'm not sure how to pin point my feelings or where they are coming from but I thought I would just share what I could.
Since becoming a "mom" (because I had no kids of my own before) ... I hear the words "you look tired" a lot. Sometimes I want to reply and say "Wow, I must look like crap, thank you." In my head I'm thinking, do I really look that bad? ... If I do, I need to pull it together ... I don't want to look like an old run down mom ... and how am I really supposed to take this comment?!? I think it's started to wear on me and my spirit. I often want to hide and cry for a moment but I don't, I just keep going. I love being a mom. I love my children. Do I wish I had more moments of laughing and not disciplining or checking off the tasks for the night, YES!!! I do. But certain things have to get done and they won't get done on their own.
I have realized how much pressure I put on myself and how much I allow others to put on me. I don't always think others are doing it, I think it just happens that way. I want so badly for Maxwell and Anita to be "good kids" and "obey" when needed and "listen" like they are supposed to. And then I have to step back and realize how hard it really is. We (as their parents) don't want to be played as fools but we need to remember to have fun and enjoy who they are. There are many of times; car rides, dinner, lunch, playing, laughing are all interrupted with someone in time out or someone crying or someone upset b/c discipline took place. It makes for very awkward moments and frustrating feelings. I try to do discipline in private and not make situations difficult for others but sometimes it just doesn't work out that way. Adam and I weren't raised the same and we are learning this quickly. His verbal discipline is a lot different than mine. Frankly ... I just miss the joys of when they first got here and I'm trying to step back and remember those joys.
My kids are 4 and 6. They aren't 10, they aren't 15. They're little. And they're learning a lot a lot. They have to be reminded. They have to be loved. I wish all my words came out lovingly in lieu of anger. I wish I could hug them without fear they will "play out" the circumstance again. My heart was just heavy today ... I'm not feeling like a good mom. I'm feeling like a mom my kids don't want to be around b/c I'm too busy checking off the list of do's, homework, chores, how we act, don't act, manners, chores, laundry, chewing with our mouth closed, getting our hair done, making ourselves presentable, grocery shopping, etc ... why can't I just enjoy what's around me ... I want to be a good mom ... a loving mom full of joy who looks good. Not a mom who people say "Wow, you look tired!"

"Proud of You..."

I've been wanting to write about this for awhile ... I remember it vividly. I hear it in my head over and over and over. My dad hugged me tightly. So warm, so loving, so tight ... I just wanted to burst into to tears. Sometimes hugs do that. I had just endured 24 hours of travel, as a single mommy, in order to bring our little ones home. Exhausted, yes. Elated, yes. Excited, oh yes! But as I made my rounds upon our airport arrival, I approached my dad, he held my face and said "I love you honey. I am so so proud of you. You did it ..." (I cannot even write this without tears.) Those words play over and over in my head. My dad kept saying it "You did it. All on your own. I commend you."
When I left for Ghana, I simply didn't know if I was coming home with our children or not. As my survivor skills set in and the days played out we were blessed to be home within a week. Was I scared to travel home alone with two young children who had never set foot in an airport, let alone a plane? Not scared, but nervous. I remember being giddy to be home, excited to be where things were familiar ... to be with my family and friends. So elated to have everyone finally meet Anita and Maxwell. I don't think we always feel our exhaustion. And sometimes the exhaustion can be displayed in different ways but as we rode down the escalator there stood our family and friends! There stood my support, my prayers, and the love surrounding me. I vaguely remember people saying "you must be so tired." I don't remember feeling tired. And I don't remember feeling accomplished. But when my dad said those words they have seeped into my heart and embedded themselves strongly. My dad was proud of me! He really really was. He wanted me to be proud too. I did it - my mission was accomplished and I physically did it by myself. Reflecting has made me realize how important and how much it means to tell our children we are proud of them. There is something in those words ... something takes hold deep in our hearts and fills us up. We radiate with joy .. we radiate with a sense of purpose. "Proud of you honey ... very very proud of you!"