How Adoption Changed Me—Part I

So, if you have been reading this blog for any period of time, you know that a little over 2 years ago, my husband and I adopted two siblings from CPS and our lives changed forever.  Everyone tells you parenthood will change you, and they are most definitely not lying.  What people don’t tell you (and really, they can’t) is how it will change you specifically.  In a series of blogs, I want to share with you a few of the ways that adoption changed me.

Adoption changed the way that I spend my time.  When I worked as a nurse, I had a varying schedule where I might get several days off during the week.  Those were MY days.  I would frequently get together for lunch with friends, take long naps, watch copious amounts of Project Runway, and just generally relax.  If I had a few days off in row, we may even take a road trip. 

Those days are over.  Now, I attend practices, tournaments, ARD meetings, speech therapy sessions, fight crowds for school supplies, and play an infinite number of board games.  (Seriously, does any one else’s kids obsess over UNO or mancala, or is it just mine?

Adoption also changed the way that I feel about bedtimes.  Growing up, I was never given much of a bedtime.  I have amazing parents, but bedtimes were never really stressed.  I never told my parents, but I frequently struggled to stay awake at school, and that was probably why. 

When we adopted our kids, they were each on several medications for ADHD that had some serious side effects.  We wanted to do everything in our power to try to get them off of these medications, which included making sure that our kids got plenty of rest and had a healthy diet.  We also prayed for them a lot.  Thankfully, they no longer require medications and don’t have conduct issues at school.  But every time I tell friends when my kids go to sleep, I feel like they think I am a weirdo. 

I am a firm believer that kids need lots of sleep.  The American Academy of Pediatrics agrees. In fact, our kids often turn into emotional wrecks without adequate sleep.  There is yelling, outbursts, and lots of tears.  So, for the emotional well being of our family, we don’t skimp on sleep.

I realize that bedtimes and loss of personal time are not unique to adoption.  What is unique is all the baggage that adoption adds to the normal struggle.  When we adopted, our oldest was starting 5^th grade and our youngest was about to start kindergarten.  We did not realize the toll that moving so many times and living with families that did not provide structure and educational support had taken on them.  My son’s peers were far ahead of him with their multiplication tables and reading comprehension.  Our daughter’s peers were already reading and writing, and she could not even recognize her letters. 

Homework may be a struggle for many families, but with families of adoptive kids, it is even more so.  What should take the average student 20 minutes may last more than an hour for our kids.  Sometimes I can’t believe when they have never heard of some basic word or concept, but then I remember all that they have been through and all that they have missed.  I have spent countless hours at our kitchen table going over concepts that were missed or not understood.  I feel like a large part of my job as an adoptive parent is what Joel spoke about in restoring the years that the locusts have eaten.

Adopting older kids is challenging.  There will be places along the journey, where you will feel that this road is just too tough.  Sometimes we have to let go of expectations that may have been unrealistic and perhaps self-serving.  Sometimes we will be blown away by their incredible resiliency and rapid growth.  But most of the time, you will just catch a glimpse of those amazing, beautiful kids playing UNO with you and thank God that you are blessed to be their parent. 

Hair & Humility

Let me just start by saying that hair, especially African American hair, can be surprisingly divisive.  Heated arguments can spring up with this topic, so I hope that you read these words as me simply being open and honest about our road with adoption.  I want to be real and authentic and to let others know how they can prepare for this potential aspect of adoption.

I am a low-maintenance kind of girl.  I prefer the way that low-maintenance sounds over lazy and slightly disheveled.  My hair stays mostly in a ponytail and when, by chance, it is styled, I have exactly two styles: straightened and curled.  All that to say, when I found out we were adopting an African American girl, I was more than a little bit overwhelmed.

When my daughter moved in, her hair was in braids with extensions.  I thought that I had dodged a bullet and had some time before I had to do anything with her hair.  The kids’ caseworker, as well as our caseworker, both African American women, informed me in no uncertain terms that her hair needed some serious attention right away. 

I began to come to a tough realization that I couldn’t even tell when her hair was unacceptable.  Crap!  And, apparently I was not alone in this.  My Caucasian girl friends thought her hair was cute and 100% okay.  I felt defeated and I had not even started my journey as a parent. 

So I began to seek out help from my African American females friends.  Thank the Lord for them and their patience.  Sometimes I didn’t even know what questions to ask, but they helped me along the way.  They were kind and understanding.  They replied to frantic texts.  I cannot thank them enough.

I remember calling a dear friend to come help me take out her braids that first time.  She showed up at my house with a bag full of products and a wealth of knowledge.  She was so gentle and tender as she taught me how to wash my daughter’s hair, and I could almost cry when I think of how much that helped. 

An important part of adopting, especially when adopting from another race, is to practice humility.  There was so much to learn: from products to use, how often to do what, and how to style her hair.  It can be overwhelming, but you need to have a support network and you need to be humble enough to ask for their help.  Self-sufficiency and pride must be checked at the door.

And, a plead to the African American mamas (or biracial, etc.) out there who see us Caucasian mamas struggling.  Please offer us a helping hand…and PLEASE offer some encouragement.  You have had women along the way that helped you to learn, so please pay it forward.  We need to hear your advice and to learn from you, but we also need to hear we are doing okay.  We need to know that you are there as a resource.  Offer to do a friend’s daughter’s hair.  Take her to the beauty shop and help her to get comfortable.  Show her the salon or friend you use to do your hair.  All of these things mean so much to a novice.

I say all of things not to overwhelm, but rather to encourage.  The vast majority of the time, I do Z’s hair myself, mostly for the sake of time and cost.  If I can manage, I promise you can as well.  That time spent washing and styling hair can become a bonding time between mothers and daughters.  This does not mean every time is easy and effortless.  I learned early on that my daughter needs routine and she needs to know when her hair will be washed, how it will be styled, and how long it will take.  Structure and predictability are keys to success.

We pray that she knows that she is deeply loved and that her hair is not a burden, but rather a blessing from the Lord.  We pray that her hair is not the source of her beauty, but that her beauty comes from within.  We pray that our daughter learns to not only embrace, but to celebrate the hair that God has given her.  Thank you, Lord, for entrusting us with such a precious child.  We are so thrilled to know her.

A great resource to check out:

www.chocolatehairvanillacare.com

Smile for the Camera!

I love Pinterest… and I hate Pinterest at the same time.  Growing up, a birthday party might entail a group trip to Chuck E Cheese if I was lucky, but usually was nothing more than a cake and a sleepover with a few friends.  Somewhere between my childhood and present day, birthdays transformed into a magical, stressful production.  One of my dearest friends always does the most amazing parties for her kids and she loves it all.  She has boundless creativity and birthdays are where she really shines. 

I don’t write this to be critical of birthday productions, but just to show my state of mind surrounding D’s first birthday in our home. 

I love parties and Pinterest, and I wanted his party to be perfect.  We planned for weeks and invited tons of people.  All the details were taken care of, and I was ready to sit back and enjoy the party. 

Everyone was having a good time, and then it was time for presents… and there were tons of them.  I was excited for D to see how much the people around him cared about him.

He opened the first one (an awesome Lego set from a family member), gave a half-smile, then moved on to the next gift.  WHAT!?  I wanted to scream!  Where was the gratitude… the excitement… the emotion?  I nudged him and told him to say thank you, which he did.  Whew! Crisis averted. 

Next gift.  A wrestling figurine.  Same response!  These were two of his favorite types of toys… things that he had been begging us for.  I knew he wanted them, so why was he so dissatisfied?  We kept prompting him to express gratitude after EVERY SINGLE GIFT. 

Nothing in my CPS classes or books that I had read prepared me for this moment.  I replayed the whole scenario and began to get some insight.  I once read a blog by Jen Hatmaker where she talked about how big days were often too much for her little one.  I wasn’t thinking about how important days remind you of family and other special days.  Each birthday and major holiday brought back memories of previous ones… ones with his biological parents.  It reminded him of who was missing this special day.

It was all coming together.  He was being flooded with memories of his bio parents and it was putting a serious damper on the whole party business.  We made it through the party and came up with a new plan for future birthdays.  Big parties were done… at least for now.  We decided that it would be best to go to an event like a concert or sporting event with family and maybe 1 or 2 friends rather than have a party.  This cuts down on the gifts, but is easier for everyone.  And so far, it has worked. 

I get weird looks when I tell people that we aren’t doing a traditional birthday party… but at this point I am pretty used to weird looks.  Celebrating this day is not about my picture of what a perfect birthday should look like.  It is about giving my kid an extra special day, but most importantly reminding them that we are there for them, no matter what.

Name Changes

When my husband and I started planning on adopting, we had always envisioned changing their names.  Then, once we knew we were adopting older children, we figured that the kids would be pretty settled with their names and be opposed to changes.  Boy, were we wrong. 

Our son was 10-years-old at the time of adoption and he was set on creating a new identity for himself.  I think at that age, I would have probably wanted to change my name as well.  It is around that age that most kids think their name is not cool enough.  For whatever reason, he wanted to change his name and we were thankful that he wanted a fresh start.

See, our son was a junior.  Well, technically he was a sixth.  Crazy, right?  But every time that he said or wrote his name, it was a reminder of his bio dad that was not a part of his life.

Thus began the deliberation over his new name.  Despite our desires for him to pick a name based on meaning, he simply wanted one that seemed cool.  So, he contemplated Jaden (after Jaden Smith, of course) and various names of wrestlers.  We vetoed a few and then finally came to a consensus with Daniel. 

Daniel is a nice name with biblical significance.  You see, Daniel was pulled away from his family and forced into a new life.  Daniel could have chosen to be bitter about this upheaval of his life, but rather chose to serve the Lord and be a mighty man of faith.  Daniel knew that God was His true judge, and He needed to live his life accordingly.  He trusted God and saw him do miraculous things in his life. 

This was our prayer for our son.  His story was far from ideal, but it could become extraordinary.  Our son was uprooted from his family, which at first seems horrible.  But, God had plans for our son.  Plans to place him in a family where he is surrounded by people of faith, who pray fervently for him and encourage him.  We fail continuously as parents, but we are thankful for the faith community that surrounds our kids, and even more so, for our gracious heavenly Father.

Am I a bad parent?

We were parents.  We had a son and a daughter.  Now, how in the world do we entertain these kids?  In our pre-parenting days, we were “that couple” that had it all planned out with how our kids would be different from “everyone else’s kids”.  You know, “that couple”.  “When we have kids, they will never…”.  Blah, blah, blah.  Oh to be young and idealistic.  In many ways we were incredibly naïve to the struggles and challenges of parenting.  Here are a few of the things we said we would never do, but at some point or another did.  Sorry, not sorry.

1.    Let TV babysit our kids

Now this was definitely not an all-the-time thing, but it did happen more than I ever thought it would.  We tried our best to restrict TV at our house to one hour a day in the summer, but being in grad school I needed a little peace and quiet. And, unfortunately, educational programs would not always get the job done.   Sometimes, you just need a little Alvin and the Chipmunks to so you can power through a discussion post. 

2.    Yell at our children

I came from a family of yellers.  We were passionate folks, but I always envisioned a peaceful home where kids were disciplined and calm mannered.  Think Full House. I wanted to sit my children down and explain to them rationally why what they were doing was wrong, but sometimes kids need to know that their parents can lose it a bit.  Something about hearing a generally mild-mannered parent lose it every now and then can act like a reset button for an unruly child.  

3.    Use sweets to bribe my kids

Don’t judge me.  We really are pretty restrictive about sweets in our house.  Sometimes you need to get things done in your household, and you don’t have the energy to negotiate with a pint-sized tyrant. The promise of dessert can motivate in ways that my words will never be able to.

Hopefully, this makes you feel better.  We are all just trying our best, but no one is perfect.  There were, however, a few things I feel that we did well, and I want to share those too.  Adoption, and parenting for that matter, is tough work, so we should celebrate the small victories.

1.    Hung out with our friends with kids

We began this very early on, and I think it made the transition much easier. There is something about throwing kids on some floats as you soak in a pool that makes all well in the world.  Our kids had left behind all the friends they had known, but now they were learning that they had many new friends who were thrilled to get to know them.

2.    Found things the kids loved and embraced them

My kids love animals.  The zoo became our best friend.  I think that first summer we went there about 5 times.  A membership was one of the best gifts we have ever received.

3.    Got our kids involved with service activities

We brought our kids along when our church did service activities, and I am so glad they went.  They were able to hang out and do a work project alongside at-risk teen boys and serve meals to the homeless.  The kids loved it and we loved watching them show love to others.  So sweet.

Those first few months were a blur of excitement, chaos, and pop-in visits from caseworkers.  We were trying to figure this whole family thing out, and thankfully we have a gracious heavenly Father who provided us with an amazing support network.