My Choice

The pregnancy thing was a surprise.  It strikes me as odd that when we were trying for the allotted 4-5 months it didn't happen, but that the instant our lives devolve in to chaos, we can, with no effort at all, IN FACT,  with some concerted avoidance, get pregnant.  It does make you think there is some higher power at work here, and that there is some crazy plan that no HUMAN mind would imagine or design.  At least any sane one.

This idea of a plan is going to bring me comfort.  This is my choice.  One day I will look back and understand why it went down like this.  Yes.  I will.

Yesterday was a breaking point.  Admittedly my emotions have been haywire - beyond PMS - and I've felt exhausted and a little sick, so I can't really tell how much of the crapola going on here is the children's behavior and our language issues and how much is hormonal.  I may never know.  But I do think they are generally good kids who are as frustrated as we are that we don't understand each other.  Especially the oldest and youngest.

The middle bun is my challenge.  I think it is clear that if we could communicate we could solve some problems, but it is also clear that he does have some emotional and behavioral issues as well.  Yesterday I told him we were all going out and as I tried to get his socks and shoes on him he suddenly and for no apparent reason had a huge meltdown. Number 3 of that day.  I was frustrated which didn't help, and was trying to force the socks on with Lisa's help. 

He went ballistic and he punched me in the face and then followed that up with a nice kick to the face.  It hurt, but mostly it shocked me as no one has ever done such a thing before.  They may have wanted to...but they haven't.  I was so shocked and so angry that I shoved him away from me and smacked him in the chest.  It was a pure adrenaline reaction and after I did it I was furious and I started to cry.  I yelled something angry and ran out of the room and locked myself in the study.  And sobbed. 

I was crying because I was angry at myself.  I was disappointed in myself for hitting him - it didn't hurt him at all - but I hated losing control in that way.  I was crying because I hated this situation and because I feel so emotionally wound up and because I feel like a bad person.  I don't feel like I love these kids and how could I not?  Who wouldn't love poor little orphans?  I feel like a monster. 

In a day I usually go from feeling dead inside, to feeling sad, to feeling rage, to feeling hopeless.   I feel so much fear that the emotions I have will impact the bun in my luke-warm oven. I can also see myself alienating others who want to help.  Why would I do this?  I don't like myself like this. At all.

After my meltdown, I decided I needed to find a backup host family for the kids.  I knew I would feel terrible doing that and that people would think I was a jerk, and that it might make the kids feel terrible.  But I thought...how can I keep them?  What if I hit one of them again?  What if I miscarry?  What if I feel THIS terrible for 15 more days?  One day feels like a lifetime!

I cried for a long time. 
And then I napped for 30 minutes and calmed down.

My mom and my dad gave me the great comfort of telling me that I am focusing too much on the negative and that I need to shift my focus.  Ah-ha!  What a great idea!  Oh wait- all I FEEL IS NEGATIVE.  Hard to focus elsewhere when all you have in front of you is negative.  It's a brilliant idea if it were at all possible.  This counsel made me a little angry too.

Last night we went to see Les Miserables.  For whatever reason, it inspired me.  I felt renewed.  I decided I would try.  I will try to re-focus and to look for the good.  To find God's hand in the events of the day.  I would t-r-y. 

I don't know if I can do it, or for how long, but I see enough light through the foggy, ugly mess to give it a shot.  So here is my vow: my next posts will have only positive messages about the children and how I feel.  I will start by saying that when Aloysia threw Dana off the trampoline today, he did it in a way that did not break any bones or cause new bumps on her head.  And he looked very strong and graceful doing it.

Deep Breath.

If my hormones rage, I will try my best to go be alone, work through it and come out victorious.  If Aloysia kicks me in the face I will try to just walk away and not respond.  If I feel completely hopeless, I may still cry, but I will pick myself up and move on.  I may be exhausted and not want to play with the children, but that's what DVDs are for.

This may not work - but I don't want to be miserable or les miserables any more.  I don't want to alienate those I love. And most of all, I recognize that whether it is 30 days or 30 years, I'm choosing the life I live.  No matter how hard it is, I still chose the lens I look through.  So hormones beware!  I'm taking you on...I may lose some battles but I intend to win the war.

(DC friends:  Can I now accept your playdates and offers?  I'm back Jan 2, and am ready for help! :))
 

Well This Explains a Lot

Sometimes I just don't understand.

This month just got a lot more exciting.  Nothing like adding exhaustion, nausea and some other obvious complications to the mix.

I'm sure James and I will be very happy when we have time to consider this blessed news in mid-January.

Now if you could just excuse me while I cry again.

He's an Angry Elf

About a month ago as I shopped for little presents, and cooked and froze meals and treats, and put together craft projects and bought Christmas movies for children, I pictured in my little secret heart a warm and tender Christmas filled with joy.  I pictured a real Hallmark made for TV movie starring me.

I thought, these kids may have their troubles, but they will be so grateful for a Christmas filled with family, and love and special presents just for them that as I watch them and share it with them....well, my heart will probably grow 3 sizes that day.

Let's start with Christmas Eve.  One of my little preparations was that age old cheese-ball family tradition of opening matching pj's to sleep in.  I got all of us matching red and green stripes EXCEPT James.  Unbeknownst to him of course.  I got him green thermal pants and a green elf pj top.  I knew it would look hilarious, and in my little wishful heart I pictured the kids and me laughing and laughing as he opened his up.  We would all share in the little joke of how funny papa would look.

This is how it went down.  I handed out the presents and Sasha started telling me a long angry story in Russian in which the only words I could pick out were: Latvia, Pajamas, stupid, and I don't wear them.  He only guessed they were pajamas, but he was right.  When he opened them he said (and imagine an angry Russian accent) "Pajamas...niet!  Pajamas....yuck!" and then picture him throwing them only half unwrapped to the floor.

Aloysia only unwrapped and put his on after seeing me start to cry a little, and Dana bless her sweet heart was actually excited and happily changed. 

When James opened his, the rest of the family laughed, but none of our little buns were to be seen.  He agreed in good sportsmanlike manner to change in to them.  And it was the only thing that made me laugh all day.  And I will admit I laughed HARD.  Not that they didn't look splendid - not many men can truly pull off an elf outit like him.  Only Will Ferrel I'd say. 

We attempted to take a family picture that did not include Sasha, and I'll post the results of that tomorrow.  Compared to the Ellis family all holding hands and dancing in a circle singing in their matching pjs, we looked like the Bundy's compared to their Cosby show.

The angry elf part came in a bit later that evening.  I will say only this...it took us 3 hours to put Aloysia to bed.  The 3 hours invovles us chasing him, James being bit, spit at and kicked and punched by him.  It involves screaming, and crying and finally James play wrestling with him for an hour to try to wear him out.  It is the most painful process I have ever been witness to, and these pictures show James post-wrestling match.  He emerged from the den covered in sweat in his amazing elf pajamas, tired but feeling victorious at last.

 

 

As he watched...thinking Aloysia would quietly march to bed now, the young bun dashed from the room, saw his "cousin's" full size Barbie santa gift standing in the living room, ran to it and assaulted it in a way that must have truly left her feeling violated.  And my angry elf husband began the wrestling again.

Our children were far from nestled all snug in their beds, and so began our Christmas miracle.  More Elf meets Freddy Kruger than It's a Wonderful Life.

Update

We are in Michigan....haulleluia. 

James and I were driving here and as we drove along in RUSH HOUR I laughed and smiled and felt all kinds of lightness.  And I suddnely realized:  I'm happy because we're leaving.  I hate driving on long road trips, and this was the happiest moment of my week.  I felt like I was tasting sweet freedom - it was in my reach.  Big houses and  yards with plenty of place to play, and lots and lots of adults and kids and toys to distract the buns.  OH JOY.

I don't have much time, so I'll do a few quick highlights of the last few days.

1.  The kids love running up and down the stairs.  This is not great in our tiny town house with close neighbors.  It is also not great because Dana has fallen down them head over heels twice.  We keep telling them to walk and showing them, and putting them in time out if they don't, but it never stops.  I can't believe no necks have been broken.  Since we've been here, she also tumbled down Shawn and Lisa's stairs.  But the mother of all stair falls happened at the Richards.  James took the kids over for a visit to his sister Andrea's house.  As he was preparing to leave they fled from him.  They ran down the stairs and Dana of course fell.  When James picked her up she suddenly melted and went unconscious.  I got a call from James that went as follows:
J:  I'm going to the emergency room.  Don't panic.
That's pretty much all I remember of our first conversation.
Long story short. She's OK, but has a big goose-egg.  I have 12 new white hairs.  I should be fully white in one month.

2.  The kids love being in Michigan.  They have loved playing with all the kids, they have loved all the space and all the new toys and attention. 

Some of my favorite moments....
-  Dana playing "tickle" wth Garrett and running from him terrified. 
- Aloysia coming in from swimming and going to Grandpa at the dinner table to give him a big hug and tell him all about it.
- The kids calling Grandma "Babushka"
- A two hour shopping break with James yesterday. It only took me one of those hours to decompress, lose all the knots in my stomach and smile again.  That last hour was nice.

My least favorite moment?
Dana going to the bathroom yesterday with the lid up (the boys didn't put it down) and taking a dump, then falling in.  Screaming to me and I find her shirt, pants, bottom and legs soaking wet in pee and poo water and her crying. 

I feel much better here, and it's been such a relief having James and family and space, which leaves me wondering why I still cry a lot, and feel so tense?  I wonder if I'm depressed.  I'm trying to focus on the happy and positive, but I admit I'm terrified of the day we leave Michigan and return to Virginia.  I dread it more than I dreaded going to Baghdad.

 

Vampira!

I woke up this morning ready to try again!  It took approximately 45 minutes after James walked out the door for this to happen:

You know that I no longer care one tiny bit what anyone thinks of me if I am posting this.  I mean - could I look worse?  No shower in two days, Red face, swollen eyes (no sleep for two nights.  James finally slept on the 1 foot by 8 feet of floor space between the kids' beds to comfort them every time they woke up crying) and I'm barely keeping my shirt on.  It's ugly.  Now that I think of it, that may be why Sasha kept making vampire faces at me and saying "vampira!  vampira!"  I kind of hope so, other options might be more frightening.

So... the good news is that tonight my ugly, ugly video is making me laugh.  When it happened I was devastated and sobbing on the floor, and the poor kids just looked at me like the world ended.  Dana just climbed in my lap and hugged me and made soft cooing noises and Aloysia froze and stared at me from the corner.  Sasha left and then waited, listening for my big gulping sobs to end, and finally crept back up and put his arm around me.  It was very tender really.  I should cry all day in front of them, and believe me, I would if I didn't think the magic of it all might wear off.

I see small signs of progress.  In particular breakthroughs with the oldest and youngest. The middle child leaves me at my wit's end.  There is no way to punish him that can top what he's experienced.  So us putting him in a chair for time out for 2 minutes has zero effect on him.  Sasha told us we were being pushed around - that back home his punishment is one hour kneeling.  Good grief.  We obviously can't do that - but it leaves me scratching my head.  I mean if we don't want to be scary, or spank, or oh-I-don't-know, put someone in a closet on their knees.  I mean - how do they know they've done wrong?

As soon as he gets out of timeout, I make him say "sorry" then I hug him.  And then he runs somewhere to try and get my goat again.  Tonight James held him in timeout and he bit James' arm.  I have no idea.  Open to suggestions here.  Especially if you are an expert in this kind of background and psychology.

Any-old-who, I just keep telling myself I am grateful for progress.  And I am ashamed now of every single time I thought less of parents who spank their kids.  I have never felt so much rage in my life as one tiny little peson can cause in a mere moment... and it took every bit of willpower not to cock my arm back and let fly.  Oh how I hate learning lessons.  Especially about being judgmental - I've enjoyed it so much.

One more day until Michigan.  It's the only thing keeping me going.  It's a short-term goal in reach.  One more day.  36 more hours.  I've got this. 

There's more cuteness

I was looking at my phone and realized that there actually was more sweetness today and that I should probably share it in the interest of balance.  Although it must be said that one of these is cute in the way that still makes me cry.  One is wonderfully entertaining - or perhaps my idea of entertainment has sunk to new lows.

1.  I had the kids paint with me this morning.  Sasha drew this picture:

He said it was for me when he finished.  And then I pointed to the three people and said, "You, Aloysia, and Dana?"  He replied, "Niet.  Sash, Mama, Baba."


2.  Dana's favorite toy is her (well, really Aviva's) play phone.  She carries it everywhere with her and she always talks on it.  I was upstairs and had just gotten off a call when she came walking up and across the room chatting on her phone.  An unending stream of some story that her imaginary friend no doubt enjoyed.  She sat on the steps, kept talking, oblivious to me, and then got up and left the room still talking.  Enjoy:

Day Two. 26 to Go.

First, I'm so sorry if you have commented on my blog and/or FB and I haven't responded to you.  I hope all of you know how truly grateful I am to read your supportive and kind words.  Obviously I don't buy any of them at this moment, but they are sincerely appreciated.  This is one of those moments where I next write, I'm kidding - but we all know I'm only sort of kidding.  So there.

I'm seriously a mess.  I cry anytime I talk to an adult, and sometimes just with the kids.  They're probably saying to each other in Russian, "This lady is the messed up one here, not us!"  I can't stop - it's bizarre.  I finally dried up when James got home today.  I can't tell you what a blessed relief it was.  And it was cute when the kids saw him - they all yelled Baba or Papa or whatever they are saying and ran to him and hugged him.  Maybe I should look it up - perhaps Baba means Die capitalist American and isn't endearing at all.

Dana cries in her sleep a few times a night, and last night James was kind enough to get up with her.  The first two times he rocked her and put her back.  The third time was around 3:30.  He found her down in the living room looking angrily at the Christmas tree lights.  He picked her up and brought her to the basement on the bean bag and turned off all the lights.  She fell asleep. 

Yup, that's a real cute story.  Until you hear what I found at 6:30 am when I went down with the boys (up at 5:30 - hooray for progress!) to wake James up for work.  I turned on the light and James and Dana were in the bean bag - wrapped up in two towels he found in the bathroom.  He was too tired to find a blanket and they were freezing.  You see - you never know if it's funny or tragic.  Laugh or cry? 

In other nightmarish moments today, let me tell you about the dentist.  A little history:  apparently in Eastern block countries the dentists don't use Novocaine, they're a bit abrupt, the like to pull teeth and in general it's a rather unpleasant place to go. 

At the last minute I texted James' sister's sister in law, Melinda Richards, to see if she could go with me.  I didn't think I needed her, but I had a prompting to text her and ask.  I thought,  well, it would definitely help to have a translator for the kids.

That is one prompting I am GLAD I heeded.  Glad doesn't even begin to sum it up.  I told the kids ahead of time what we were doing to prepare them.  Based on their reaction to their surprise tutor yesterday I thought it would be best to give them time to mentally prepare for events.  Not so much.

When Melinda arrived, Sasha ran up to his room, got on his bunk and REFUSED to go.  The other two were crying and saying no, no, no.  I got shoes on one and then they ran away as I tried to wrangle shoes on the next.  I finally got the two youngest ready.  Meanwhile all of Melinda's Russian convincing that the dentist was a safe place didn't work on Sasha, so next thing I know she literally is carrying this 8 year old down the stairs over her shoulder and out to the car with no shoes.  I'm carrying two others - one under each arm - and we are both trying to get them all buckled in and locked in so they can't escape.  I wish I had a picture because my words aren't doing it just, but just stop and try to imagine.  I dare you.

They proceed to cry the whole way and then we wrestle them in to the lobby.  Dana is just scream-crying at this point about going to the hospital.  Hospital??   The receptionist was pleased at our arrival, as I'm sure you can imagine.  And Dana's terror grew each time a dental hygenist came out to claim the next child.  Each one left with a look and a gait that clearly implied they were going to the electric chair.  When I carried Dana back she just cried and cried and nothing would calm her.  Even seeing that her brother was OK.  The hygenist would ask Dana to open her mouth and she would do it while sobbing the whole time.

I could tell you so many more amazing details about this trip to the wonderful world of dental hygiene, but I'll stop there.  The point is, I had no idea that without Melinda I LITERALLY would not have made it to the dentist.  I simply needed more arms to carry screaming children than I have.  She saved me, and as much as I didn't want to bother her or anyone - I'm so glad I did.

(Which leads me to all you super kind people who have offered - LuAnn, Catherine, Bruce to name a few.  I'm so, so sorry I haven't called or contacted you.  There are two reasons why:  1.  I can't.  I cry every time I talk and it's pathetic and I can't bear to do it to people anymore.  2. I just don't know if it will help, and I'm scared it will be a bad experience for you and your kids.  So forgive me, I'm terribly grateful, but I don't know what to do and don't want to drag others in to this. But really, Thank you.)

Rather than end here, I will share one cute story.  Tonight Kristin brought her kids over to the park and this was the best moment of last night, and again tonight.  Because Max and Aviva are great with the older kids.  They've made friends with Sasha and they all run around together.  Bless them. 

After we finished at the park, I couldn't bear to go home with 3 long hours before bedtime stretching ahead and nothing to do, so I begged Kristin to let us come eat with them.  While we were over at their house, Aviva started playing with Dana and showing her how to dress up in her clothes.  She made Dana in to a princess and made her so happy.  See the lovely results.  (sorry, dark i-phone photo)

Aviva was so kind to her and took her under her wing.  She gave her a bracelet to take home (now I'm crying again!) and gave her a hug and a kiss when she left and told her she loved her.  It was so sweet and tender and I'm so grateful for Aviva and other little sweet moments like that which make my day.

As hard as this is, by the time I get through each day and tuck them in I do think...OK.  I can do this.  Tomorrow will be better.  And like having a baby, it may not be, but at least you forget long enough that you can make yourself do it again.