Four Feet More

Eamon's in a contradict-everything-I-say-in-a-high-pitched-voice phase, and it's extremely tedious.  During one loud episode, during which I childishly held up a "What do we want?  COOPERATION!  When do we want it? NOW!" strike sign, Eamon yelled, "What do you mean by cooperation???!!!"

Ah, yes.  I guess it would be a good idea to clarify that, wouldn't it? 

The teacher in me took over and I grabbed a piece of chart paper to begin my mini-lesson on cooperation.  At the top I wrote, "COOPERATION" and underlined it.  Below that I made two columns, one headed with a drawing of an eye an the words "Looks like" and the other with a drawing of an ear and the words "Sounds like."  As an afterthought, I inserted the word "Family" before the "Cooperation" title.  This chart is a trick I learned in my GLAD training, an I do it every year with my students.  I'm not sure why I didn't think to do it with my kids.  Chart prepared, the four of us sat around the table and began brainstorming what cooperation in a family looks like and sounds like.  These are the things we came up with: using kind words, asking "How can I help?," teamwork, and encouraging each other.  Another interesting idea that came up, which wouldn't have occurred to me, is "Walking together."  When we are out in public, Vika generally walks far behind us and Eamon walks far ahead.  The kids and Jeff noted that when we all walk together, we are cooperating and being more of a family. 


It was a good lesson, and I think the kids have a better understanding what we mean by cooperation in a family.  I've spotted both kids standing in front of the chart (which we've hung by the kitchen), reading over the bullet points on their own.  We are also able to refer to the chart when someone needs a reminder about cooperation.  This worked against me the other day, when I was feeling irritable and Vika pointed to the chart with the reminder, "Is that a kind voice, Mama?"  Oh brother. 

Things have been a little tough here lately, and it seems that Jeff and I are making far more negative comments to our kids than positive.  It must be a burden on their self-esteem, so we took a step back and did another activity to remind everyone of the good things we see in each other.  I took some photos of the kids' faces and put them in the middle of a square piece of paper.  One page was for Eamon and the other was for Vika.  Around their picture, we wrote the good qualities and things we love about each child.  Eamon's page says things like: loving, caring, funny, affectionate.  Vika's says words like: determined, helpful, adventurous and loving.  The kids ate this activity up.  It was good for them to hear the things we love about them, and to remind them that despite the rough patch we're going through, they are great kids and we feel lucky to have them in our lives.  These pages have an added benefit for Jeff and I as well.  When the kids are driving us nuts and we're reaching our breaking point, we can look at the page and remind ourselves of the good things about each child.  It kind of helps put things in perspective and helps us focus on the child as a whole, not just the bad behavior he or she is currently displaying.

By now, I'm sure many of you have heard about the Tennessee woman who sent her adopted son, Artyem, alone on a plane back to Russia.  As a parent of two children adopted from Russia, I feel compelled to comment on the situation.  From the title of this post, you can probably tell how I feel about this woman's actions.  For those of you who have not adopted children from traumatic backgrounds, there are some important things, which I believe the media is missing, that you need to understand.

First of all, many (if not all) of the children living in orphanages in Russia have experienced abandonment from the people on whom they most depended.  In my kids' case, it was their Russian Mama.  Some, like Eamon, were only abandoned once and at a very young age.  Others, like Vika, were taken back and abandoned by their parent multiple times before finally being placed for adoption (for clarification purposes, Vika and Eamon have the same Russian Mama, but their experiences with her were very different).  When a child loses the care of a parent at a very young age, it can cause them to become distrustful of adults and learn that there is nobody on whom they can depend except themselves.  This lesson serves them well in an orphanage setting; however, it doesn't work so well when they join a family.  If you add neglect and abuse by caregivers into the mix,  you wind up with a very confused child who is distrustful of any adult who tries to take care of him or her.

In Russia, there are many, many orphanages, and they are very crowded.  The last estimate I read was that there are over 700,000 children living in Russian orphanages today.  These kids are regarded as second-class citizens and many Russians believe there is something wrong with them (either something that made their birth-parents not want them or "bad blood" passed on from irresponsible parents).  There are not a lot of Russian families vying to adopt these children.  In fact, once they leave the Baby Home and move into a Child's Home (around the age of 3 or 4), their chances of being placed in a loving family drop dramatically.  In an orphanage, the children live with multiple caregivers who are inconsistent, both in their presence and they way they relate to the children.  My kids have told me stories of being hit with shoes and being locked in dark closets as punishment.  And I believe they were at one of the better orphanages in Russia.

Kids who are adopted often have a hard time adjusting, especially if they are adopted by a family from another country.  When we brought our kids home, they had to leave everything they knew behind.  They flew for hours in a plane to a far away place with strangers who spoke a language they did not understand (we were only allowed to visit them 4 times before the adoption was finalized).  Things sounded and smelled different, the food was different, and they no longer had a bunch of children around them all the time (I've heard the experience described as "being abducted by aliens").  They had to adjust to all these changes, in addition to learning how to be part of a family.

I'm sure it was the same for Artyem.  He was even older when he was adopted, and we don't know what kind of situation he lived in with his birth family or how he was treated at the orphanage.  What is clear is that he had difficulty attaching to his new mom.  He'd only been home for 6 months, and attachment can take a year or longer to occur.  Plus, it seems that his adoptive mother did not ask for help from either her agency or social worker.  She had not taken him in for counseling, and as of January, she reported that everything was fine.  I find myself confused at how all this could happen.  Did the boy say he was going to kill her?  Maybe.  Heck, Eamon has said that to me when he's angry!   Did he play with matches and threaten to burn down the house?  Maybe.  My kids have done and said some pretty scary things too.  Was this mother educated about the many ways attachment disorder can manifest itself, and was she prepared to deal with those issues?  Certainly not.

There are support groups out there for people who have adopted older children who come from traumatic backgrounds.  There are groups specifically designed for people who adopt from Russia and Eastern Europe.  There are plenty of places to seek advice and counseling.  It seems to me that this "mother" gave up on her son too quickly.  I'm not sure what her expectations were, but I've heard many pre-adoptive parents talk about how they just know they will instantly connect with their child and that there will be love between them from the first meeting. They have this fairy tale idea of what it will be like to bring this child into their new home, and many even think the child will be grateful to be adopted by them.  I always cringe when I hear such statements because I know that the prospective parent is most likely in for a huge disappointment.  They are not thinking about this adoption from their future child's perspective and are not considering how what was done to the child in the past will affect how he/she views their future. 

Torry Hansen clearly did not have reasonable expectations for her child, or for herself as a mother.  Would she have treated a biological child so callously?  The fact that she would send a 7 year old child alone on a plane, with him most likely not knowing what would happen when he arrived back in Russia is horrendous.  I can't imagine how scared he must have been or what was going through his head.  I can't understand why she didn't seek to disrupt the adoption in America and try to have him placed in a family better prepared to deal with his needs. It's almost as if she viewed him as damaged goods and wanted to return him to the store!  Her actions only added to the abuse, neglect and abandonment that Artyem has already suffered in his short life.  And she made his attachment to a future family even more difficult.  I hope Torry Hansen is prosecuted to the full extent of the law and that her planned adoption from the Republic of Georgia (yes, she was planning to adopt another child!) is dropped as quickly as she dropped her responsibilities towards her son.

Jeff and I have been working really hard to stay on track as far as discipline goes.  We've been allowing our kids to make choices and deal with the consequences, without giving them countless reminders about what is the right thing to do.  They know the right thing to do.  We've told them often enough!   But it is really hard to bite my tongue and not say anything when Vika and Eamon don't follow through on doing what we ask.  I've been in the habit of giving repeated reminders and warnings, and I get frustrated when the simplest of requests is ignored.

Adding to my frustration is the fact that things are not getting better, they're getting worse.  This afternoon, for example, the kids gleefully ignored their evening chores, playing loudly upstairs to make sure I knew they were not doing as I asked.  A relatively minor request to put away the chess game was met with groans, name-calling and threats (all directed at me).  There seems to be a lot of anger brewing in our kids right now, and it's definitely taking it's toll.  As I keep my cool and do not react with a raised voice or threats, their anger seems to get worse.  Logically, I know this means that the discipline is working.  They are trying to get me worked up so that they can regain control of the situation.  But emotionally, it's tough.  I've had this knot in my chest all week, and it is hard to see a light at the end of the tunnel.

Some people might say I should just spank my kids and get it over with.  But they have not seen Eamon cower in fear, hiding under his blankets and crying when Jeff raises his voice at Vika.  They haven't heard the matter-of-fact way that Vika says the mamachkas (caregivers) at the orphanage used their shoes to beat kids who misbehaved.  Spanking might produce short-term results, but at what cost? 

And, lest any of you get the idea that we have "bad kids," I assure you that couldn't be farther from the truth.  We have amazing kids!  Kids who survived things in their first few years of life that would bring many adults to their knees.  It's the survival techniques that brought them through those early years that we are dealing with now - many of them just don't work in a family.  So, despite the feeling that we have taken two HUGE steps backwards, Jeff and I are pressing on.  Hopefully we'll figure out soon what has caused this recent downward spiral in our kids' behavior so we can address that underlying issue as well.  It's tough, but I believe the end results will be worth it.

It's been a bit unsettled here lately, and a lot has been going on.  Chalk it up to Spring Fever, or March Madness, but I feel as if we've taken a few big steps back in our household.  I haven't posted in a while, so this one's going to be long.  You have been warned.

It began a few weeks ago when Vika casually mentioned at dinner that she had to turn in her Endangered Species report by Friday or else she would get a D-.  This was the first time Jeff or I were even hearing about this report, so a tiny, yellow flag began to wave in my mind, encouraging me to investigate further.  Vika explained that her teacher has assigned the report the day before and that she only had 3 days to finish it.  By this time, the yellow flag had been replaced with a wildly flapping red one, and I knew that I was not getting the truth.  Vika's teacher generally gives them weeks to complete a report, not days, so I voiced my confusion over why she changed this pattern.  I offered to e-mail her teacher to find out why she wasn't giving them as much time on the report and see what we could work out. A look of panic crossed over Vika's face, and she came up with one excuse after another why I shouldn't contact her teacher.  Finally, I put an end to the game and told her that I didn't think we were getting the truth and that I would like to have it now, please.  It turns out that the report was overdue and that Vika had not only lied to us about it, but to her teacher as well.   While helping Vika look for the report rubric in her room, I also found several incomplete homework assignments in her garbage can.   It was incredibly disheartening, because I thought we had conquered this problem.  Vika has had trouble with homework in the past, but she really seemed to be on it this year, and I thought those days were behind us.

Our new "I'm Sorry Steps" were put to the test when we had Vika write a letter of apology to her teacher.  This consequence seemed to affect Vika more than the restriction from TV and computer (to help her better focus on her school work).  She really likes her teacher and wants Mrs. M to have a good opinion of her.  She asked me several times if I could just e-mail Mrs. M to explain what happened and set up a homework checking system.  But I held firm, repeating that it was her school work and her responsibility, not mine.  And while our trust in Vika has been pretty well eroded by this, I have to say I am proud of how she handled things with her teacher.  She arranged a homework recording system that has to be initialed by both us and Mrs. M, and delivered a well-written note of apology.  Vika seems to be back on track, and hopefully this time, it will stick.

Last weekend, we had another incident occur that threw me for a loop.  On March 10th, Jeff had knee surgery to repair a meniscus tear.  He came through it OK, but has been hobbling around like an old man ever since.  The kids aren't used to seeing him like this (Jeff's very active), and I think it's made them a bit nervous.  On Sunday, things got worse when I became sick.  In a fit of Spring Cleaning, I had scrubbed down my shower with this new tile cleaner, and began to feel quite woozy.  By lunchtime, the room was spinning and I couldn't get out of bed, I was so dizzy.  We desperately needed groceries, so while I took a rest, Jeff limped off to the grocery store, leaving the kids pretty much unattended for an hour.  We all know how that goes, but Vika and Eamon had assured us that they would be safe and take care of me while he was gone.  When Jeff got home, I was feeling a bit less dizzy, so I made my way downstairs for a snack of Saltines and peppermint tea.  Jeff and the kids joined me, and while we ate, Vika, the master of casual asides, mentioned that Eamon had peed in the litterbox and cat area. 

Jeff and I looked at each other in stunned silence.  I mean, really?  We were having urination in the household thrown at us now, more than 4 years after bringing the kids home?   Fortunately, we managed to keep our cool (most likely due to the fact that neither one of us had the energy to get angry).  I looked at Eamon and said, "Wow.  That's surprising.  Well, no worries.  You'll have plenty of time to clean up the cat area before dinner."  A temper tantrum ensued - Eamon was really upset (ashamed?) that he had been caught, and let us know in no uncertain terms how "mean" we were being to him.  All the drama took it's toll, and I began to feel dizzy and nauseous again.  I barely made it upstairs to find that my bedroom door had been closed and locked.  I laid down in front of the door, trying not to get sick again, as Jeff got the key to open it.  Only the key didn't work.  Eamon had tried to pick the lock with a pencil and the lead had broken off in the keyhole.  At this point, Jeff's calm evaporated and a display of anger which has rarely been seen in our house ensued.  Between the pain in his knee, me being so sick, Eamon's misbehavior, and Vika "stirring the pot", it was all just too much.  The kids were sent to bed while I threw up and Jeff regrouped.

Let me just say at this point that ours' is not usually a dramatic household, so Sunday was definitely a wake-up call.  As a parent of children with traumatic backgrounds, I find myself constantly questioning whether their behavior is typical kid stuff, or indicative of lingering issues from their time in the orphanage.  How much is related to attachment or post-traumatic stress, and how much is just kids testing the limits?  I'm not sure I'll ever really figure that out.  This is the only reality I've ever known, and I've got to take it as it is.  One thing is certain though.  As things have seemed to move backwards, Jeff and I have definitely fanned the flames with our increasingly angry reactions.  We've got to work to be more consistent with the Love and Logic approach, even when behaviors catch us off guard.  That's the challenge we now face.

After writing this post, I asked Eames, "So, what was the deal with that whole peeing in the litterbox thing again?"  He replied that he and Vika were playing "cats."  So, I'm feeling better that this was an instance of kids being kids, rather than a PTSD reaction to Jeff and I not being at full capacity.

Let's face it.  Tiger Woods has made some horrendous choices lately and has more than his share to apologize for.  If you watched his live apology (I didn't) or read about it later (which I did), it may have been enlightening to you how he apologized.  Not the exact words, per se, but the format.  As if there were rules he was following when composing his mea culpa.  This is what I learned from Tiger's apology:

A sincere apology must have 3 parts:

1. Honestly admit what you did.
2. Explain why it was wrong (including who it hurt and why).
3. Give a "plan of action" to show that what you did will not happen again.

I'm told this is classic 12-step-program procedure, but never having gone through such a program, I hadn't  really thought about it before.  It seems so logical though.  I know when someone simply says "I'm sorry," I often don't feel that they really understood why what they did was wrong.  With my kids especially, the words "I'm sorry" are more of a way to get out of a lecture or move on from a situation, rather than a sincere acknowledgment that what they did was wrong.  So, we have now instituted the 3-step apology rule in our house.  Vika and Eamon groan about it, but you know what?  I think it has made them much more reflective about how their actions and words affect others.  Hopefully this will eventually result in them thinking about potential outcomes before they act, rather than atoning for them afterward.

I know.  Best of luck with that.  But at this point, I'll try anything to get them past their "It's better to ask for forgiveness than permission" mindset.

Thanks for all the suggestions for dealing with the problem in my last post. We've actually used a few of them, and I think Vika is starting to get it. Maggie - we did the activity with the paper person, writing on the body all the things that make family great, and then tearing it apart with actions that hurt a family. Afterward we discussed what actions would put the family back together and taped the paper person back up. Then I hung him on the fridge as a reminder.

The next day, Vika and I were having a discussion about how she was talking to Eamon (she does love to boss him around). She began yelling and whining, so I said, "I don't think we're communicating very well right now. Lets talk about this later when we're both more calm." Vika stormed off to the refrigerator, took down the paper person and tore off the leg that says "communication." Then she placed it on my laptop. I fought back a smile because I know she was making a valid point, and I didn't think she'd appreciate the humor in the situation. But we later talked about it and she found her actions amusing too. I still have the paper "communication" leg sitting by my laptop, and it makes me smile every time I look at it. Perhaps it's time to reattach the leg to our little "Family Man" though.

Vika is also working on a well-thought-out letter of apology, which Eamon requested of her. Eamon told Vika he wanted the letter to say more than just "I'm sorry." He wanted her to show that she really meant it. Sounds like the kid has some tough standards. I hope he doesn't make Vika do too many revisions!

I really liked Kate's suggestion of a shared family "secret" that Vika was excluded from. It was just tricky thinking of how to do this in a way that didn't seem vindictive or mean. Luckily, Eamon is not the type to hold grudges or intentionally hurt someone's feelings, so when we told him our plan, I knew he would see it through in a kind way. We have planned a fun family evening watching "Polar Express," drinking hot chocolate (which we usually do during the "Hot Chocolate" scene in the movie - we're nerds), and making cinnamon S'mores. Eamon, Jeff and I have talked about the "fun plans" in passing, but not enough to lord it over Vika. We've just kind of mentioned it here and there, and Eamon's given me smiling thumb's up signals across the table. Vika has asked, "What is the surprise?! Is it a surprise for me?!" I said that no, it wasn't a surprise for her, but it was a family activity that we wanted to do, just the four of us. We are nervous about telling her because she might mention it to someone else, who would feel bad that they are not included. Frankly, it's driving Vika nuts! "Why can't you just tell me?!" she exclaimed in frustration yesterday afternoon. "I think you know the answer to that, Vika" I responded calmly. She got very quiet at that point and was really thinking about it. Hopefully she thought about what it means to share trust in a family and how it is better to be inside the "circle of trust" rather than outside of it. We'll put her out of her misery today though. A rainy Sunday sounds like the perfect day to watch "Polar Express," drink hot cocoa and eat S'mores!

One other family building activity Jeff and I are doing is kind of a "forced cooperation" program. Vika constantly needs to be in charge of Eamon, so we're making them work together on family chores, like folding laundry or cleaning the kitchen, and fun things like Holiday projects. We've instructed Eamon to say, "Nice try Vika" when she starts bossing him around and to remind her that they are working as a team. Our hope is that this will empower Eamon to react to Vika's bossiness with words instead of anger, and also reinforce that neither child in the house is in charge of the other. We'll see how that goes.

Thank you again for all the great ideas. I was too upset to really come up with anything constructive last weekend. Fortunately, since Vika let the secret slip on a Friday, the kids at school had all weekend to forget about it, and Eamon has not been teased since. That was my biggest concern, and luckily, it seems to no longer be an issue.

I need advice regarding a problem which I was made aware of this afternoon. Vika exposed a secret about Eamon, something he is ashamed of and which we have said would stay just within the family, to her classmates at school in an effort to embarrass and bully him. Sadly it worked, and now kids at school are making fun of Eamon as well. I'm so upset with her, and extremely sad that Eamon now has to endure teasing about something which he really cannot help.

I've told Vika how people need to feel safe in a family and how she has made Eamon feel unsafe by telling his secret to kids at school. I've also told her that words can never be taken back and how disappointed I am with her for lashing out at her brother in that way. But it seems there needs to be some bigger consequence for this so that it will never occur again.

How would you deal with a situation like this? Anything you can think of that would have a lasting impact? And for the more bloodthirsty of you out there, beating her with a stick is not an option.

Sometimes kids with traumatic backgrounds, like mine, find it difficult to deal with too many good things happening at once. They do a form of "sabotaging" with their actions, making life chaotic or unhappy. I think this is because they lived so long with chaos and unhappiness that it has become almost comfortable to them now. They think that the good times can't possibly last, and by sabotaging, they feel a bit more in control of when the good times end.

Such is the case with Vika (although she has gotten better). On Saturday, Vika had a big day. Mom and Ed took her on a birthday shopping spree and then they went to lunch at Texas Roadhouse (Vika loves ribs). Afterward, she and I went to the Kenny Chesney concert with Laurie. That was a lot of fun by the way. Kenny puts on a really good show and so did Lady Antebellum. We were surrounded by girls in Daisy Dukes and cowboy boots. In San Francisco, on the bay at night. I was more than a little amused to see those same girls shivering in the cold night air. But at least they looked cute! ;) When Kenny made his entrance (on a type of chair which swung above the audience on cables), Vika's eyes lit up. She stood on her chair and danced, a happy smile brightening her face. The three of us had a great time, and Vika chatted happily as we walked back to the car later that night (we left a bit early because the other concert-goers were getting very drunk, and I didn't want to leave the parking lot at the same time they did). It was a great bonding experience, and we agreed that Vika and I need to do Girls' Night Out more often.

Then yesterday, everything went to hell. Vika woke up grumpy and irritable. She refused to do her morning chores (making bed, brushing teeth, etc.) and pretty much fought us all day long. She yelled at me, calling me rude for asking her to sort her dirty laundry. She deliberately ignored me when I asked her to clean up the toothpaste she smeared on the bathroom counter. And when I asked her if she was going to clean her room, she looked at me with raised eyebrows and said, "No!" All in all, we had an extremely uncooperative little girl. So Jeff and I decided to be uncooperative right back and even ignore her requests, just to show her what it was like. When she asked me for something, I responded, "I have a little girl who has shown me that words are not important" and then I would go back to my task. When lunchtime came, she had to make her own (to get a rise out of me, she had 3 plates full of Lays Potato Chips - I did not take the bait, but did say that I hoped they didn't give her a stomach ache).

After some time of this, Jeff and I talked a bit with Vika about how words and cooperation are important, especially in a family. She continued her downward spiral and went outside, crying and saying how she wishes she wasn't in our family. Jeff and I both kept our calm, and her drama mostly played out. Eamon and I went to my mom's house and Vika stayed home with Jeff to finish cleaning her room (she had kind of decided that she was going to cooperate by this time).

A couple hours later, Eamon and I returned home, and Vika came running down the stairs, all smiles to greet us. She said she had cleaned her room and showed me the nails she had painted with her new pedicure kit (hot pink with white flowers). I noticed that there was a blue stain on her shirt and hands, but didn't have time to ask her about it before she ran upstairs with Eamon. However, a couple minutes later, she came back down, complaining that her stomach was hurting really bad. I thought it was all the potato chips she had for lunch, but then noticed the blue stain again and saw some blue around her mouth. In growing alarm I asked, "Vika, what else did you eat? What made your mouth all blue?"

It turns out that she had made a "scientific concoction", using the Cool Blue kids Listerene in the bathroom, some water and chalk, and had drank 1/3 of a cup of it. I ran upstairs and quickly retrieved the bottle which said to call Poison Control immediately and seek medical attention if more than a little bit is swallowed. Hands shaking in panic, I sat a crying Vika down by the toilet while Jeff called Poison Control. They asked questions such as was she still breathing and conscious (yes), was she vomiting (no), and how long ago did she drink the Listerene (about 10 minutes). The dispatcher at Poison Control sent an ambulance and within 2 minutes our dining room was filled with paramedics and firefighters examining Vika and checking her vital signs. They seemed a bit amused by the situation, which lessened my panic somewhat and helped calm us down (poor Eamon had been pacing the floor saying, "I don't like this Mama!"). After reading the ingredients in the bottle and hanging with Vika for a while, the paramedics felt it was OK for her to stay at home and get some rest. If she began vomiting or her condition seemed to worsen, we were to call them back or take her to the hospital for further attention.

It was a dramatic climax to an awful day for Vika. Her stomach still hurting, Vika laid down and I sat by her, torn between wanting to give comfort and wanting to scold her for doing something so stupid! We have had many family talks about how you "don't drink what's under the sink," and when we got the Children's Listerene specifically, we had another discussion about how you don't swallow it. So, although I decided to offer comfort instead of scolding, I was more than a little angry at my daughter. Vika looked up at me with sad eyes and said, "I don't ever want to leave this family! And I don't want to die."

Perhaps this was the "Significant Emotional Event" that will encourage Vix to start to change her behavior. So far this morning she's been a bit more cooperative, and I know it will be an ongoing process for many more years. But if something good came out of last night's poisoning scare, I'll take it!

Jeff has his brilliant moments. Often he will come up with little demonstrations to get a certain point across to the kids, and he does it in a way that I wold never have thought of, but which makes perfect sense.

Such an occurrence happened this morning. We've had reoccurring issues with bossiness and aggression in our household. Usually Vika is bossy to Eamon, and he reacts aggressively. After repeated instances of this yesterday, and Jeff and I (unsuccessfully) instructing the kids to solve their problems in a nicer way, we finally decided that a family meeting was called for.

Once the breakfast dishes were cleared, Jeff began telling the kids about how some people "push" to try to get what they want, and others "pull." What we have been seeing in our house is Vika pushing Eamon with angry words and body language, and Eamon pushing back with angry words and physical contact. Jeff and I both explained how when you "push" at something or someone, you are making it go farther away from you. Then Jeff talked about gently pulling to get what you want. By using kind words and smiles, you can bring people closer to you. I made a comment about honey attracting more bees than vinegar, which earned me blank stares from both Vika and Eamon. Jeff rolled his eyes and then pulled the kids' attention back to him with a simple piece of string.

"Watch" he said, as he laid it out on the table in a nice straight line. As Vika and Eamon looked on, riveted, he demonstrated what happens when you try to "push" something to do what you want. He pushed the string with his finger, and it crumpled up on itself, moving farther away in an untidy mess. Then he said, "But look what happens when you pull gently." Jeff grabbed the end of the string, and gently pulled it towards him. It moved in a straight line, going whichever direction he wanted it to take. The kids ooooohh'd and aaahhhh'd at this, seeing in a whole new way what we've been trying to tell them for years.

Not to be completely outdone, I asked, "Papa, what happens if you pull the string hard, instead of gently?" Vika and Eamon turned back to watch as Jeff jerked on the string, making it crumple up again and fall half off the table. "The key," I added, "is to pull gently." Jeff gave Vix and Eames their own piece of string to play with (much to their delight), and they experimented with pulling and pushing their twine for a few minutes.

As we left today to go on a hike, I noticed that Vika had her piece of string tied to her belt loop and Eamon carried his in his pants pocket. Maybe this demonstration made a bigger impression that I thought? Hopefully Jeff's lesson is something that will stick with them for a while and maybe even encourage them to change their pushy ways.

It is a truth, universally acknowledged, that a child in possession of a new pack of gum must chew that gum ceaselessly until it is nothing more than a sticky mass of flavorless goo.

Such is the case with Eamon. Previous experience has taught us that Eamon is not the most responsible gum-chewer. In addition to the numerous wads he’s swallowed, we’ve found pieces of it ground into his bedroom carpet, a string of it attached to his sweater, and a chunk stuck in his hair. So it was a surprise when the Easter Bunny (dang his furry hide) decided to give the kids each a pack of Trident. This went along with his 2009 Easter basket theme of “Healthy Minds, Healthy Teeth” (I didn’t think up the theme, I just went along with it).

Right away, Eamon dug into his gum and began chewing it noisily. He did this throughout the day, looking and sounding much like a cow chewing its cud. Fortunately, Vika lost her pack of gum somewhere at Babushka’s house, or else I’m sure I would have had dueling gum smackers in my ear all day long.

Despite Eamon’s love of chewing gum, this time he took it a bit further than I ever would have anticipated. Each night when I go to bed, I “wake” the boy up and take him to the bathroom. I put “wake” in quotes because Eamon is seldom truly awake during these times. He’s generally still half-asleep, and he never remembers these trips the next morning. When I went to take the boy to the bathroom the other night, he began chewing his cheek. “What on earth is he dreaming about?” I wondered. Then the subtle scent of bubblegum wafted past my nose. Surely the boy was not chewing gum in his sleep. Unfortunately, that was exactly what he was doing. Thus began the frustrating exercise of trying to extract a piece of chewing gum from a not-quite-awake child’s mouth.

As Eamon sat on the toilet, eyes closed and head wobbling in semi-consciousness, I said, “Eamon…spit your gum out!” He just kept chewing. So I tried again, a little louder this time. “Eamon! Spit out your gum!” He still kept chewing. Soon I was saying loudly, “EAMON! YOUR GUM! SPIT IT OUT! “ By this point, his eyes were still closed, but he was frowning and shaking his head frantically from side to side indicating that no, he was not going to spit out his gum. Exasperated, I started tapping his cheeks and patting his shoulders to get him to fully wake-up. I tried tickling him, shaking him by the shoulders, and even prying his mouth open with my hands. The boy was not waking up and he was not giving me his gum.

By this point, Jeff had come upstairs to see what all the ruckus was about. With a “For crying out loud!” he grabbed the squirt bottle off the shelf and sprayed Eamon with cold water to wake him up. Eamon squealed in dismay, but kept his eyes firmly shut and his gum safely tucked in his cheek. It finally took a team effort to retrieve the wad. Jeff pried Eamon’s teeth apart while I reached in with my finger and swept the inside of his mouth. I scooped the gum from out of his cheek and triumphantly threw it in the trash! Then I calmly walked my slightly-damp, still half-asleep son back to his bed.

Easter Bunny, if you’re reading this, NEVER give my child gum again!

Thanks.

I guess it's something that every parent goes through sooner or later. Just when you think your child is looking pretty good, they grab the scissors and give themselves a haircut. I had a minor experience with this early on when Vika trimmed a lock of her hair. But fortunately, it was a small lock, and was kind of off to the side of her face, so it wasn't terribly noticeable.

With Eamon, I wasn't so lucky. Jeff was going to drop him off at my classroom yesterday after school, so he called to prepare me: "Jenni, Eamon cut his hair." Oh no. He'd finally gotten to the point where he had this cute, shaggy kind of "skater boy" hair, and I wondered how bad the damage was. When Eames first walked into my classroom, it didn't look so bad. He had his bangs kind of swept over to the side, and I thought maybe it would be OK. But as he began playing and his hair started to move back to it's normal resting place, the haircut was painfully apparent.**

Obviously, I had to give him a trim to help these new bangs blend in. But, if I gave him a cut as short as his bangs, I was afraid he might look like Mo from the "Three Stooges." In the end, I decided on a compromise. I cut his hair shorter, but not as short as the area Eamon cut himself. I figured that yes, he may look like a dork, but it's fitting punishment for him cutting his hair.


** I don't know what is with the dorky smiles in these pictures - I guess it's the best I could expect given the circumstances.

Things have been quite hectic at school lately. I feel like I've been running around non-stop with no breaks in sight. Added to this is the pressure of a parent, whom I'll call "Mrs. Helicopter" (Mrs. H for short). Her child did not do so well on his last report card, mostly because he doesn't turn in assignments and frequently "drifts off" in class, and she (for lack of a more delicate term) flipped out*. This has been a pattern with her son since 1st grade; however, Mrs. H is much more interested in blaming the teacher rather than addressing ways to help her son succeed. Last week, she spent hours in my classroom. Hours berating me for not suspending or retaining her son for his missing work; hours going through her son's extremely messy desk (in which we found numerous missing assignments); and hours sitting in the classroom so that she could make sure he finished an assignment and turned it in to the proper bin. Hence the name, Mrs. Helicopter. She hovers over her child so much that it's no wonder he's never learned to take responsibility for himself! When I voiced concerns about this, my words fell on deaf ears.

The final straw came when she pointed at me from across the table, red-faced with tears in her eyes and said, "I'm going to rip you apart for this one!" The issue she took such a strong objection to was that her son had not put the date on one of his papers. I calmly explained that when this happens, I have the child do "name practice" 5 times, putting name, date and assignment on the page. This was not good enough for her. She demonstrated what she would do by ripping up the paper and throwing the torn pieces on her child's desk. Then she spat out, "But you won't do that! You're too nice!"

*sigh*

After this episode, Mrs. H going through my other students' papers (something I never let parents do), yelling at a student in class while I was teaching, telling my substitute that she was allowed to stay in my room unsupervised with her son during lunch (she wanted to help him finish his test), and having the janitor let her into my room after school so that she could go through her son's desk and organize his things only served to increase my irritation. With the help of some extremely wonderful colleagues, I believe I have finally let Mrs. H know that she cannot come into the classroom and disrupt things in such a way. Unfortunately, she still does not understand that her child is a 5th grader and really needs to learn to take responsibility for his own schoolwork. At our meeting this afternoon she proudly stated, "I've told my son that if he's still not turning in his work in college, then I will be sitting right next to him there too, making sure he gets those assignments in!"

Some people just never learn....

* I send home missing assignment lists with my students every other week and require a parent signature on them, so Mrs. H should not be surprised by her son's low grades.

Michelle recently shared this poem with me, and it addresses many things we've been thinking about it our family, especially considering what we learned during our birthfamily search. I thought I would share it with you as well.

You cannot change the truth.
These are your children,
but they came from somewhere else
and they are the children of those places
and of those people as well.

Help them to know all about their past
and about their present.
Help them to know that they are from extended families,
that they only have one parent or set of parents,
but that they have more mothers and fathers.
They have grandmothers, godmothers, birthmothers, mother countries, mother earth.
They have grandfathers, godfathers, birthfathers and fatherlands.
They have family by birth and by adoption.
They have family by choice and by chance.

Childhood is short;
They are our children to raise;
they are our children to love;
and then they are citizens of the world.
What we do to them creates the world that we live in.
Give them life.
Give them their truth.
Give them love.
Give them all that they came with,
Give them all that they grow with.

Thank you all for the wonderful suggestions! We have begun implementing a few of them and we'll see how they work. First of all, we've put all writing instruments up out of reach (a bit of a pain, but we'll get used to it after a while). We've also stopped making as big of an issue out of the E's. We kind of figured that the negative attention was what Eamon was after, so we're trying not to give it to him. Instead, we have done a modified version of the "time-in." Eamon sits by us and writes "E"s on a piece of paper. He's getting a lot of praise about how great his writing looks as well as comments about how nice it is to have it on paper (he can show it to his teachers or bring it to Babushka's house). He's filled up almost 2 sheets of paper with little "E"s already and is very proud of his achievement. Perhaps I should have him "graduate" to writing his entire name? He already knows how to do this, but the additional practice might help him as he goes into kindergarten. I just have to be careful because we don't want it to seem like a punishment or a chore - then he may learn to dislike writing.

Another technique we are using is called an "E Hug." It is kind of like what Maggie suggested, but with the added element that the E handshake (we hold three fingers out like an "E") ends with a hug. We've also made a "V Hug" for Vika. Both kids love this, and Eamon has been asking for "E Hugs" a lot.

One thing we haven't tried, which I think we will begin to, is the 5-minutes-of-eye-contact time-in that BT suggested. Thanks for delurking BT, and sharing your experience with us. It is a bit scary to think that attachment issues can surface after a couple years at home, but now that we know it's a possibility, we can re-think the way we approach some of these situations. Revisiting some of those attachment exercises and practicing them on a regular basis sounds like a good idea. While I wouldn't have said Eamon had attachment issues before, I have seen a definite increase in his testing of the rules and our love for him over the past 6 months (he has even taken to shouting "I hate you!" when he's really upset - something that is very out of character for him). So maybe his attachment isn't as secure as we had thought. I bet these techniques would work well with Vika too, since she was closer to their birth mom and has had more difficulty adjusting to her life with us.

Thanks again to all who offered suggestions and support. I will keep you posted on our progress.

We've been having some vandalism issues with Eamon lately. Nothing too major, but he's taken to writing "E"s all over the house. On walls, furniture, counters... It's been going on for a while, and we've tried everything we can think of to discourage the behavior. The logical consequence is that he has to clean up the "E"s. This consequence we've been very consistent with because it makes the most sense. But, it is obviously not enough. Time-outs, designated "art stations" (complete with chalk board on the wall), loss of TV time and "pencil restriction" have all been tried, and all have failed. Once Eamon wrote with ink on the wall and on the cupboard, and it wouldn't wash off. So, we had to paint over the "E"s, which resulted in an "energy drain" (he drains energy from the family, and has to put it back in, usually by doing some horrid chore). We thought that would put an end to it, but it didn't. In fact, the "E"s got worse. In the last week, Eamon has written on walls, cupboards, our living room table, and worst of all, the top of Jeff's Mac laptop (with ball-point pen, so he scratched the "E" into the shiny, silver surface).

Last night, we had a family meeting about the problem. We talked about ways we could solve it and how to work together to make things better. Vika suggested spanking Eamon for every "E." Jeff and I felt a better approach would be for Eamon to feel the sting of not cooperating with the family and breaking the house rules. If he could not cooperate with us, then we would not feel much like cooperating with him when he wanted a special privilege (like choosing the bedtime story or having some TV time before bed). Vika agreed this was better than spanking, and Eamon was on board too. He really didn't like the idea of us not cooperating with him, and it seemed we had all come to an understanding.

Then I got home from work tonight. Vika looked smug, and Jeff looked tired and angry. I soon found out why. Eamon had written "E"s on various surfaces all around the house. On the kitchen counter where Jeff prepares dinner; the toilet seat and walls in my bathroom; the cupboards in the kitchen and the hallway; and worst, on the forehead of Vika's favorite doll. We later found that he had drawn "E"s on Vika's stuffed Hello Kitty (that she sleeps with), and the heads of two other dolls as well. He strategically put "E"s is places where he knew we would find them. Clearly, this was a cry for attention, and the problem is more serious than we thought.

So, while Eamon cleaned up each "E" in the house, Jeff and I talked about what to do. Unfortunately, we're at a loss for solutions. We've cut back his hours at preschool so that he can spend more time with the family; we do fun, together activities every weekend; we eat breakfast and dinner together at the table and talk about our day... it's not as if the boy is neglected. I know me going back to work has been hard on him, but there's really no solution for that. I need to bring in income right now, so off to work I go.

Has anyone out there encountered such a persistent vandalism problem? If so, how did you solve it? Any and all suggestions are welcome.

The last few weeks with Vika and Eamon have been rough. The adjustment to both of them being in school and me working full-time has thrown our family for a bit of a loop. I knew it would, but somehow I expected the loop to be… smaller… Add a hefty dose of Mama-Guilt to the mix (this teaching gig takes way more of my time than I anticipated), and you’ve got a stinky mess. Things are beginning to smooth out a little, and when we can stick to the “Love and Logic” way of parenting, volatile situations are diffused much quicker. But it is so hard to be consistent. Our kids definitely know which buttons to push.

So, to get us out of the "kid-bashing" mode we’ve begun to slide into, Jeff and I decided to look at how far our kids have come in the nearly two years that we’ve know them.

• Eamon went from being diagnosed with a “speech delay” to speaking full sentences including words like “actually,” and “noticed.” Sure, “poo-poo” has been his favorite word recently, but I’m hoping it’s just a phase.
• Vika will sit on your lap and snuggle for an hour, if you let her. Before, she would hug us quickly for a minute, and then squirm frantically to get away from our embrace.
• When we brought Eamon home, he could not sit still for even 5 minutes at a time. The only prolonged period he could remain still was when he was sleeping. Now, he can calmly sit through a whole movie, although he does still fiddle with his hands (that whole self-stimulation thing is a hard habit to break).
• Eamon used to bite, spit, scream, kick and hit when he was angry. Now he just hits with the occasional scream. Still not great, but we are making progress! And lucky for us, he’s generally a happy kid.
• Vika used to cry for her Russian Mama and Babushka a lot, especially when she felt things here were out of her control. She had a lot of grief pent up inside, and it came out frequently. Now, she still has periods of sadness, but they are few and far between.
• Vika and Eamon have both learned to express their feelings with words, which is huge in our house. They are able to identify what they are feeling, as well as the cause of it, and work through their problems (sometimes they even work through them together!). Of course, there is still a lot of fighting and sibling rivalry, but when Jeff and I ask them to take their fight somewhere else, they are usually able resolve the issue without our interference.

So, while our kids still know various ways to torture me and drive Jeff crazy, they have made tremendous progress, and are growing more each day. Sometimes we just need to remind ourselves of that to keep things in perspective.

As you can tell from my posts over the last couple of weeks, life at our house has not been a bit choppy. This summer has been especially difficult because I had gotten used to having just Eamon with me during the day, while Vika was at school. The two of us got a long great, and I was able to do all sorts of chores and run errands while Eamon kept me company. I became a bit spoiled, I guess.

Then, when Vika went on summer break, all of a sudden I had two kids clamoring for my attention all day, every day. I also was being constantly tugged back into the role of referee, as they came to me to solve their various battles. Jeff and I generally take a back seat during Vika and Eamon's fights, encouraging them to talk to each other and find a way to solve the problem themselves. But even this gets draining when you are repeating the process ten times a day.

I know, woe is me, right? I did sign on for this instant-mother-of-two role when I chose to adopt, after all. And for the most part, I enjoy it, despite the difficult times.

However, during the last few weeks the kids have been especially testy and have reverted to behaviors I thought we got past a year ago. It is discouraging to see your child come so far, only to have him/her go tumbling back to where they were before. We've had a hard time understanding what caused this setback.

Looking back, it all seemed to start around the time we went to enroll Eamon in preschool. Vika became angry because she felt Eamon was getting special attention (she isn't the only one with a school to go to now). Eamon seems happy enough about going to school, but perhaps there is a little bit of fear in him that is manifesting itself in overly reactive behavior? And maybe both kids are feeling a little anxious about being in school full-time while both Jeff and I work? I can really think of no other reason for this setback.

As for Listening Camp, it did seem to work really well with Eamon. He's been steadily getting back to where he was and has been less inclined to react so intensely to disappointments. Vika, however, is made of much sterner stuff (is anyone surprised?). She's a strong girl who had to take care of herself for too long. She is constantly trying to maintain some sense of control over her world, and part of her still doesn't fully trust us to make sure everything is all right.

We tried a bunch of different parenting tricks to help our kids make better choices, but for some reason, we were not having much success. Then came a comment from Suzanne in response to my Going to Give it a Try post. She wished us luck with Listening Camp and also mentioned that the Love & Logic book was working well with her kids.

Of course! Jeff and I had been using the Love & Logic approach fairly early on with Vika and Eamon, but had gradually let it go by the wayside. There was no reason really, it just sort of happened. Perhaps we were tired, or maybe we were just lazy, but we had reverted to the cajole-and-punish method of parenting, which is not very effective for either of our kids. Suzanne's comment, combined with an incident when I caught myself whining to Vika (the horror!), helped redirect me to the Love & Logic book for some serious reevaluation of my parenting tactics. So far, the L&L techniques have been working really well for us. Jeff and I are less stressed out, and are enjoying parenting again. However, the kids are a bit freaked that they have to start making choices for themselves. It's actually quite interesting to see how they handle their new responsibilities.

Yesterday, it seemed that we exorcised a demon from Vika when she was faced with the dilemma of completing some sight word practice to get her ready for 1st grade. She tried to take control of the situation by refusing to do the work, so I let her stop. Instead of fighting with her, I focused on Eamon's writing practice and told Vika that she could go play in her room while Eamon and I finished. This was not what she wanted to hear at all. She wanted me to react and fight! The next 20 minutes was a combination of Vika hitting (something she almost never does), screaming, and finally, putting on a show of hysterics that would make Meryl Streep proud. ("I can't breathe!" followed by some loud hiccuping-type of noises, gurgling and forced coughs. Then she made her eyes all wide and ineffectively tried to roll them back into her head).

As Eamon and I watched her, he leaned towards me and said, "Mama, Vika's being kind of silly." I agreed, and Vika almost cracked a smile. Then she remembered that she was supposed to be dying, and the theatrics started up again. But, as she realized that we weren't buying it, her heart didn’t seem to be in the performance anymore, and finally, she gave up. Afterwards, she came down, returned to her seat at the table, and finished her sight word practice with no further complaints.

Success! That was quite a breakthrough, in my opinion. Both for Vika and for me.

So thank you blogging community! Thanks for offering support, ideas, and redirection, even though you may not be aware that you are doing it. Parenting is a difficult job, but hearing from others who are in the same boat makes the rough patches much easier to navigate.

8:30 am - Wake up two very groggy kids and attempt to get them to do their "morning chores" (fix bed, get dressed, brush their teeth, bring down dirty clothes). Eamon does fine, once he wakes up, but Vika fights about the work clothes we have laid out for her.

9:00 am - Vika put into a time out for refusing to do her morning chores. (She has to do these every day, regardless of whether she's in Listening Camp or not).

9:30 am - Breakfast. Jeff and I have Mexican poached eggs on toast with hot tea. The kids eat cold cereal with milk and look wistfully at our poached eggs. (We felt a bit guilty about this, but tried to keep our "game faces" on)

9:10 am - Eamon put into a time out for not listening during our after-breakfast clean-up.

(2 time-outs before the chores have even begun!)

10:00 am - Kids begin major chore of the day - organizing their toy bins and cleaning their closets. Both Vika and Eamon put into time-outs right away. Several toys are confiscated.

11:00 am - Still organizing the toy bins in their rooms.
Time-out Tally: Eamon - 5, Vika - 4

12:00 pm - Still organizing the toy bins in their rooms.
Time-out Tally: Eamon - 6, Vika - 4

1:00 pm - I hate Listening Camp. Listening Camp sucks.
Time-out Tally: Eamon - 8, Vika - 6

1:15 pm - Lunch time. The kids eat dry cheese sandwiches and cast many hostile glares our way as they try to choke them down. (After all the time-outs, screaming, hitting, kicking and yelling, Jeff and I did not feel as bad about the kids' less-than-appetizing lunches)

1:30 pm - Back to work organizing their toy bins.

3:00 pm - Still organizing the toy bins and closets in their rooms.
Time-out Tally: Eamon - 10, Vika - pulls into the lead with 13

4:00 pm - I really hate Listening Camp.

5:00 pm - Eamon finishes with the toy bins in his room! Moves on to cleaning and repairing the cat water bowl that he kicked during a previous time-out. Vika is still organizing the toy bins in her room. The girl cannot seem to do anything without arguing. (I wonder where she gets that from?)
Time out Talley: Eamon - 12, Vika - 16

5:30 pm - Eamon is done with Listening Camp! He gets lots of hugs and kisses from Jeff and I, and sits down to a glass of water and a snack of goldfish crackers. Vika enters into yet another time-out for arguing about her chores.

6:30 pm - Vika is finally done with Listening Camp! She gets hugs and snugs from Jeff and I, and the whole family sits down to a nice dinner together.

Total Time-Out Tally for the day: Eamon - 12, Vika - 19

Now that Listening Camp is done, do I feel it is worth it? Maybe. Eamon certainly seems eager to listen and do his part in the family. In his words, "The next time I have bad manners, I will think about this when I'm in my time-out." Both kids are very happy to be able to talk and play with Mama and Papa again too. We did let them talk during Listening Camp, but mostly just to ask questions about what they should do next. There was none of the usual banter that fills our days, and the kids missed this much more than I thought they would.

Vika is certainly much more stubborn than Eamon. She has a strong will and knows what she wants, which is not a bad thing, but at times this comes across as her caring for her own needs more than what's best for the family. Of course, she was trained to be this way from a very young age, since both during her time with her Russian Mama and at the orphanage, pretty much the only person she could depend on was herself. Eamon suffered the same neglect, and also reacts by fighting, but in a different way. Instead of fighting with words, he displays strong physical aggression whenever he thinks we may be upset with him. I think he has such a fear of losing our love that he fights back with every tool in his arsenal (hitting, biting, kicking, screaming, and my favorite, spitting). Lately, he has also taken to yelling, "I don't love you!" After much training today, he finally came to the point where instead of fighting with his body, he expressed his displeasure with constructive words: "I don't like this Papa!" This is HUGE for Eamon. He knows he should use his words, but his knee-jerk reaction is to hit or scream when something happens that he does not like.

Hopefully the lessons learned today will stick for longer than just this evening. Time will tell, I guess. At the very least, I think they now finally realize how much we give to them each day, and understand that they are part of the family team. I don't expect that the coping mechanisms learned during 3 years of neglect will disappear after one day, but maybe our kids, who had been punished in violent ways before coming home with us, have now learned that Mama and Papa can be serious about their behavior without beating them with a shoe (as the mamachakas did).

We ended this long, trying day with a trip to Peet's for cakes, coffee drinks and steamed milk for the kids. At the table, Eamon raised his cup and said, "I have a toast! Thank you Mama and Papa for letting Listening Camp be done. I love you guys!"

Maybe the day was a success after all!

Rhonda and Suzanne may be on to something with their "Boot Camp" and "Listening Camp" ideas. For some reason, the kids have been really difficult lately. Vika has been outright refusing to do the things we ask of her - even something as simple as "Please get dressed." There is no reason to resist, yet she is picking fights all the time. In fact, currently she is up stairs, opening her bedroom door repeatedly. The rule in our house is doors closed at bedtime - the local firefighters told us this was safer than leaving them open. This rule has been in place for a while, but tonight she is choosing to fight it.

Eamon, on the other hand, has become much more whiney and aggressive. Asking him to clean his room will result in a drop-to-the-floor screaming and kicking fit that lasts a good 10 minutes. When it's not driving me crazy, it's actually a bit amusing.

But the behavior of both Vika and Eamon is getting to a point where it is hurting the family. Rhonda was correct when she said that because our kids have taken such huge steps forward in their development, when they take a step backwards (as all kids do), it is huge as well. So, tomorrow, both Vika and Eamon will go into "Listening Camp." It should be interesting. Vika's a very strong, stubborn little girl, who is also very smart. A daunting combination to take on as a parent. After a tantrum or two, I expect that Eamon will do fine. In general, he wants to please and do things that help people. We'll see how they both react to the camp, and hope that their behavior shows some improvement after a day of "listening practice" and doing things "to help the family."

Wish us luck. I have a feeling we're going to need it.

Maggie over at The Open Window recently wrote an eloquent post entitled Breaking the Cycle. In this post, she mentioned how she is aware that once she adopts her son, she will be in a position to break the cycle of abuse which can occur in families for generations.

Perhaps I'm just dense, but I had never really thought about our adoption in this way before. Vika and Eamon are the second generation of orphanage placements in their birth family. Their Russian mother, aunts and uncles were all raised in orphanages, mostly as a result of the alcohol abuse and neglect by their mother (Vika and Eamon's Russian grandmother). Vika and Eamon wound up being placed in an orphanage by their Russian Mama for the very same reasons. Perhaps, if they had continued to live in such an environment, Vika and Eamon may have one day wound up abusing alcohol and neglecting their own kids? I'm not sure, but with the numbers of cases showing patterns of abuse in families, it is entirely possible.

This idea of "breaking the cycle" was reinforced recently as I observed my kids during playtime. Their favorite game to play is "Mama and Papa." Often, Jeff or I are asked to take the role of "baby," and in the past, this mainly consisted of us being reprimanded and forced to lay in a bed by our "Vika Mama" and "Eamon Papa." One disturbing episode even included the "baby" being put in a cage because she was having bad manners (I hope this was just a child's perception of being placed in a crib). As we began implementing time-ins and other disciplinary measures, these methods became reflected in our kids' play. I have often seen Vika or Eamon placing one of their "kids" (stuffed animals or dolls) in a time-in for hitting or spitting. Vika frequently teaches her kids how to have good manners in various pretend situations, and when they break a rule, she will give them a "minus 5" (minutes of TV time). When Vika first began playing the role of Mama, she was generally harsh and bossy with her kids. But over time, she has become more gentle and calm, talking to the kids quietly and giving them frequent hugs.

For Christmas, Eamon received a Raggedy Andy doll from my childhood friend, Kathy. He loves this doll, and now Andy is the "baby" of choice when Eamon plays Papa. The other day, while I was helping Eamon clean his room, I had Andy sitting on my lap, and pretended that he was offering words of encouragement and cheering Eamon on. But, then I began to have Andy tease Eamon a bit with bad manners (much in the same way Eamon acts up when I am cleaning - my version of playroom karma). Eamon's reaction to this showed me very clearly just how much Jeff and I are role models for him and Vika.

He calmly walked up to Andy and got down on one knee, bringing himself to Andy's level. He looked the doll in the eye and said, "Raggedy Andy, I feel sad when you do that. Stop, please!" I made Andy be contrite, and had him apologize for his hurtful words. Eamon listened quietly and said, "That's OK. I forgive you." Then he gave Andy a hug, smiled, and resumed cleaning his room.

These changes in my kids' mock parenting demonstrates the evolution of their view of a Mama and Papa's role in the family. And it makes sense, really. How can a child raised in an orphanage or a dysfunctional family learn what it means to be a parent? Vika and Eamon's own birth mother certainly was not given the tools to effectively raise children.

I have never thought of our adoption in terms of "saving" or "rescuing" our children from a horrible life. I know that they give as much to us as we give to them (in fact, they probably give us more). But, when I think about how the pattern of abuse and neglect may have continued in Vika and Eamon's life, had they not been adopted, it gives our adoption of them a much more profound meaning. This realization has also given me even more incentive to keep my patience in difficult situations (something I have been struggling with a bit in recent months).

So, thanks Maggie, for opening my eyes to the bigger picture (and for pointing out something which I really should have been aware of before).