What a little boy Sasha can be!

First about the ear/school testing thing. None of the parents who do this kind of adoption are without resources. The schools totally fail at helping children if they are in need. The public school test done on Sasha's hearing (without my approval) simply failed him at hearing. No help there. Yet, he is seeing specialists already because cleft children have ear involvement and issues. I can tell you how much he may hear and how much he does not. More importantly, because I learned enough to Russian hear it correctly, I can now hear how his English pronunciations flatten or "miss" the same tonal qualities we all complain about in his Russian speech. It is not that one cannot understand it, but it is just seriously garbled. Same with Sasha's English. If I had not been able to hear it in both languages, I would not understand that to a large extent Sasha simply cannot hear a lot of sounds. He garbles what he hears - garble. No wonder he thinks we are all such idiots that cannot understand him!!!!

So get your children's' ears checked and do not listen to the people who hear.

On to the personal stuff. Last night, when Sasha was in bed the orphanage discussion happened (his idea not mine). I totally hate those talks. I know he needs them but don't like them. Such talks never go too well. Hence, he did not wake up in a good mood today. And it was a day I HAD to go work. So my Mom took over. I got the requisite messages with him screaming in the background for no apparent reason. My mom is so cool, she was absolutely insistent that I stay at work, despite the screams, so as to deal with all that happens in the work day.

I think for Sasha, the happier he is and the better it gets, the more he kind of goes out along the edges of appropriate social interaction. He does not do it to be mean or bad but I think he goes out there to find out if life now is what it seems to be. And life is good. He may spend a lot of time with his hand in my jacket pocket (a recommended time-in approach) but he does okay.

And maybe I am just his Mom and love him. I so want him to be okay. And I want him to have a good weekend because next week will a bit of an uphill for him. We go see some of the cranio-facial people on Monday to help speed along the close order drill to surgery. So that day and the next, Tuesday will totally suck. I now schedule the day following medical visits as "freak out" days for Sasha because that seems to be the pattern. And who can blame him - not me.

Of course Thursday will not be great either. That will be an all day evaluation to assess Sasha psychiatric health, from a multi-specialist view. That means Friday will be a bonus day. Maybe Sasha will finally be given something to help him not live in "flashback" mode.

However it goes, this family will be okay. Even tonight my little Sasha sleeps, safe at home. May god bless you all, Sarah

Life is quiet today ...

Work is insane but life with Sasha went okay. I have pretty much decided to take him out of school. While Sasha was making amazing progress on interacting with children, the administration at school is simply too pedantic. They remain narrow-minded and simply continue to attempt to "stuff"Sasha into their rules. Sasha has already had a lifetime of "stuffing" and simply will not comply. At home he is NEVER taught to simply comply. Not even if it would make my day a bit quicker.

What I have now learned is that when he disintegrated last week at school, there was a really good reason - it is just that no adult told the whole story. And kids already conditioned to abuse cannot tell us "why." A survivor such as Sash just simply makes sure he gets free.

Back to the school pedantic problem. It seems so silly really - they gave him a hearing test and the central office sent me a note that he had failed the test. A couple of things trigger for me at this point, once I realize what is going on.

No one told me they were going to do the test. Sasha totally disintegrates with any medical procedure, no matter how nice the person doing the testing. Hence my almost daily badgering of the clinics to ensure our regular interpreter, Veronica, is at all medical appointments. But the school did the test, even knowing he has been traumatized in such settings.

Sasha disintegrated to get away from the unsafe people at school performing medical procedures without his mom there or the interpreter that mom always makes sure is there when he is in scary situations. That is what would any of us do when so isolated from our protections and then forced to endure. We would all scream, yell and have to be physically subdued too. Anything to be free of the terror of pain.

Sasha is right, in his little boy way, the people at school are not safe. They traumatized him. For no good reason. So now I will work on what to do. I did not bring Sash home so as to have him subjected to further abuse. I will pound, into the ground, anyone who attempts anything more against this little boy who is my beloved son.

All school board events are now on my calendar. Nobody takes a swing at my kid anymore. Nobody.

That is not to say he wasn't an irritating little bugger tonight because he was - there was some serious "time-in" tonight. But I did not traumatize him when I gave him space for his humanity.

There was light in our world today

First: for the lady who asked, my adoption agency was Children's Hope International.

Sasha woke up in his normal happy way - and stayed that way. We did nothing different. It was just a better day for him. I thank God for that. And I thank everyone for your prayers.

And so it went. Last night, when he was eating his cookie, he suddenly hopped up from the table, came into the kitchen were I was cooking and he told me "I'm safe." Nothing more. Then he ran back into the dining room and finished his cookie.

Maybe that had something to do with it. Also, my Mom went by the cable company to get a converter box for the television upstairs. Sasha was over the moon about that. Most cable channels come across that tv but not Nic or Disney. Over the weekend I had fixed his "broken" tv and dvd player but hadn't told him yet it was working again. My kid, the genius, is always taking things apart or "rearranging" them. A couple of weeks ago, he was in the tv/playroom and suddenly a very load zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzap was heard throughout the house. Sasha had done something to make all the machines go dark. For him that was a tragedy because at first I couldn't figure out what he had done and I was clear I was not going to buy him a new system. So he was devastated.

This is the kid that somehow shorted out a light socket and everything on that wall of the house the first week home from Russia. I have no idea what he did. And it took an electrician to fix it. When I first called the electrician and explained the problem he asked if the kid was still alive. They had to replace all sockets on that circuit breaker. So when I heard the zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzap upstairs I knew something serious had happened.

Finally I did figure out how to fix the problem. But as attached as Sasha is to SpongeBob I do not think that is why he had such a great day. I just think that the monsters did not dog his steps today. When I went upstairs tonight to get him for bed the entire second floor was not ablaze in light. Sasha had only turned on lights in the hallway and in the tv/playroom. The rest of the rooms were dark. I think that must be some kind of important milestone.

And so it goes. For those who posted regarding yesterday's entry, thank you. There are three reasons I still post comments on this blog. First, is for Sasha. I feel that if I do not speak for him then how will anyone know what he is going through. Second, I do it for all the other parents out there. When I called St. Louis (the home office for the adoption agency) in an absolute panic about the crazy kid in my hotel room in Vladivostok, they told me I was providing "inconsistent parenting" to him. He had only been with me a day and a half. And that is what their message to me remained to be. Since Sasha is on the outer limits of being damaged, if I let others know what is looks like here, then maybe it is easier for others to see some behaviors are not so bad. Just give it some time. And maybe lots of therapy.

Finally, I still post on this blog for myself. So many times I have almost shutdown this posting site because some of my deepest hurt is expressed here. And yet, I know that I need others to know. I also treasure the kind words and thoughts. And I continue to hope that the postings here will turn from the dismal to the joyful. Because I still see Sasha as my miracle in Russia.

Yeah - it was a day ...

Before I get into it, please let me say this - if, in the middle of it all you simply set down and hold your child tight and pray, then you get it. In hell there is no reason, no sense of up or down - you just simply hold on to those you love. And so that is what I do. And I have a Mom to help me - thank god. She taught me how to love and be there.

Enough of that for now - I am considering other avenues about the Vanya problem. I may be able to do nothing but I least I will think about other agencies as options. Also, while my son clutches for him even tonight in sleep, that child may not be available for international adoption. Only about 6 to 7 percent of children in these institutions can potentially come home to America, or Italy or where ever. I highly recommend the Russian film The Italian so as to understand current romantic Russian cultural myths opposing our saving of the babies. Whatever I do, today, tomorrow, next year or the even the next decade, I will have to explain it to my little boy who even now is sleeping with his arm stretched out to hold the missing child.

An added complication to my personal path is the fact that I was also sponsoring children through the agency that facilitated Sasha's adoption and was abruptly cut off from further contact with them last year. I had hoped to visit them during the second trip because I so wanted to meet them. Though I asked, I was refused. The reason given the "foster sponsors" was that contact was being severed because money from the adoption family fees could no longer support the program. If the "house" director agreed, then visitation could be arranged. I send a letter to the Dom Director but never heard anything back.

I worry about the older children I was sponsoring. After much trouble, I had finally gotten them a recent photo of their youngest brother who was at another orphanage, some distance away. I had asked the agency if there was any way to get them into a program to visit the US over the summer (there are several). No response. There was never any substantive response. So my support of those children was ended. No ability to really try and find them.

I have their sponsor pictures framed and someday I will tell Sasha about it all. I sponsored them in love before I heard the call to save him.

So onto today. It was not so great. It started with Sasha jumping into my bed and then physically harassing a cat. Given it was pre-coffee for me that all sort of cranked me out. I went and got coffee but that is the general sense of how the day went.

I am currently telecommuting because, well, just because. And no, work isn't being okay. They are silent but not okay.

Back to Sasha, his behavior did not go so well today. We all look forward to the phyc eval. And meds. And therapy sessions. There are times I look into his eyes and the boy I know as Sasha is simply not there. It is the freakiest thing. I call to him, he says his name is not Sasha and then will not tell me who is there.

And so I just hold him and love him. And when I need to leave the house, Mom is here until I return. And today, at the end of the day, the Sasha I know came home. He came home after my Mom was gone and he had been fed astronomical amounts of food. Gone was the screaming for no reason. Gone was the chasing of cats so as to harm them. He went in and straightened his toys. He attempted to make his bed. He straighted all the throw rugs on the hardwood and represented it all with flourish.

And that is how my life limps along. A crazy boy lives in my house and we all move to shelter insanity. Safely. Until something can be done. Despite American cultural myths, the insane are not put away rather they are foist upon their near contacts. Those in desperate mental need of help are simply turned away. They are sent home. Without the needed medical support. Those who love them are left to cope alone. And sometimes those insane people run into traffic. My boy did. I have heard of others too in the local area. In the case of Sasha, none of us know how he survived. It was a really busy street. Maybe the hand of God saved my son.

At the end of the day, I simply do not know. How do I get ready for tomorrow? But of course I will because that is my job as Sasha's mom - I will be there for him.

Has your child asked you to bring someone else from the orphanage????

Sasha has asked me. Funny thing about the seriously damaged ones, routine in our silly American lives makes them feel safe. We have crazy days but at the end his world is safe - lots of food and no abuse. Yesterday Sasha asked me if I could bring Vanya home. I know who Vanya is - he is in the pictures we took on our final day. He is a child I would have tucked into my arms and bags as I left with Sasha - no question.

Vanya is a little boy who had serious disassociate manifestations when I was there. What must he be like now?!?!? And how do I answer Sasha? I am not even on good terms with the adoption agency who facilitated my adoption of Sasha. Given Sasha was only the third child out of Spaak (the first two went to a wonderful family at the same time) other options do not look good. Nobody even went to Spaak to check on Sasha in between my first and second trip.

When Sasha is in the early part of his sleep it was clear he is clutching another child. Possibly Vanya? I do not know but I would like help the other child Sasha concretely cares about in his sleep. Maybe it will happen without Sasha and me. I hope so but the odds seem so dismal. That orphanage is so distant. It is far from the main path of life. I was there and life in this orphanage was not good. And nobody came for these children. Every night I wait to "not see" Sasha clutching the air in his sleep for the form of a child now not sleeping with him. Mamas do not replace "survivors in kind," we merely love and promote healing, after the fact. Every day I seek the guidance of God to get to where Sasha needs me to be.

And so it goes. Every day I ask God to watch over these children - the ones left behind. Their faces will haunt me for the rest of my life. And so I will continue to tell their story. - Sarah

Sasha has gained 1 inch and a 1/2 since coming home!!!!

I look forward to the discussions about him being hungry and what he gets to eat. The other day he was complaining that he had never seen his stomach kind of round out "like that." And his clothing is small. I am over the moon. And Sasha is carefully happy because he is growing bigger.

Thank you everyone - I love you all so much. The kind words mean so much. K and D I can feel your prayers surround us. I feel your love and arms surround us. Thank you. And do not worry, none of us can know how to proceed through such insanity. God is the only way through.

Ironically, yesterday one of the psychologists that interacts with Sasha told my Mom he totally "adores me." When I heard I totally cried - again. That is too much responsibility. And what can it be based on anyway - realistically? Of course I love him but what does that mean in his vision of the world?

Another day at school did not go so well. I think a "readjustment" is in order. Despite Sasha now becoming almost violent in his insistence to go to school, it is simply beyond his ability to cope - no matter how much he wants it.

So I consider adjustments at home. We have a psyc eval coming up soon so I will simply make things comfortable for Sasha while we wait. Mom is working hard at it with me too.

It is so sad really. Sasha and I have to talk about where the monsters might be in between the eruptions. So far our house is okay, my Mom's vehicle passes muster as does her house. But the yard has monsters in it as well as any corner or nook. Thank god the dogs bark so much and scare them all away.

My childhood did not give me monsters in the corners of my life or on the outside of my home. My childhood only knew freedom and possibility. That is one of the things I cry for - my life experience is not Sasha's.

Some days I just cry

Before I talk about why I cry I would point out to anyone reading this blog that all the experts (and we are nearing the 40 person mark) are clear what I am experiencing with Sasha happens only a small percentage of the time. But it does happen. And so tonight I cry.

Ironically, historically I have not had much truck with criers. Maybe it was my Mom or maybe it was the marine dad but I always did that step up to the line and endure thing. And then my professional life has made me "battle hardened." And I generally do not find much in life that makes me sad enough to cry.

Watching Sasha suffer so much through each day makes me cry. This morning seemed like a good day. After watching wonder pets on Nic off he went to school. Within the hour I was called by the school to come get him because he was really flipping out. I literally ran to the school. There I comforted one of the student teachers who was with my mom. Things were calmer, maybe it would be okay. Then the paniced call came into the front office from the class room that he was flipping out again. Down the hall I ran. The teacher (who is totally wonderful) opened the door so that I could hear Sasha - he was snarling and then yelling he was a good boy - repeatedly. Please remember this is a kindergarten class. I get to the room and he is running to and from his "safe" place in the room while he is screaming. He sees me and escalates even further. He runs through the children seated on the floor trying to have a lesson while he is menancing them and screaming at the top of his lungs. Finally I nab the little bugger, put his hand in my pocket, apologize to his totally cool teacher and leave.

Sasha is screeching in the hallways - he has learned that the open spaces really magifiy the sounds of his outbursts. I take the nearest exit and sit on the stair so I can ask him why - why all the drama? All I get are snarls. My poor Mom she is often just pulled along in our dingy of insanity much like today. I walk Sasha to the truck and he momentarily becomes sane again - almost for no reason. That moment doesn't last long.

When we are home I work with him about the sad Sasha. The art therapy brings out in Sasha something that totally freaks me out. I personally would prefer to see monsters. Hell is not this bad.

But I nuture through it because I know we are seeing his doctor later today. So for awhile things marginally bump along. Then the whole doctor visit was a surreal experience. I have a permanent translator for Sasha assigned to all his medical appointments so at least that helps a little. But everything is so off the wall. It took us almost two hours for the doctor to listen to his lungs and heart. Mostly what we did was let him try to feel okay about the visit and then reschedule things like basic blood work to occur during his surgery. Sasha was so sweet, he kept shining every light in the room into his mouth so that the doctor could see, cause him some pain so that he would be free. When Meg refused to hurt him he started trying to hurt himself. Like if he has pain he is free. Oh my god, I had never seen life like that.

The need for immediate surgery is now driving all of us. Sasha had fairly extensive reconstructive surgery in country - all without bone grafts. I understand that those life saving surgeries in country gave Sasha a chance at life - I have seen the statistics and his weight doubled after those surgeries. What saved my son in Russia is now a problem. The doctors are not being explicit but even I get it from the idiot drawings they show me. Sasha is in trouble. So we all move. Quickly. And gently. It sort of reminds me of my offier training in the Air Force when we would practice a double time close march. We had the guy with the bugs bunny accent call it out because it was military and at some level we all understood as a call to survival.

And so that is why I cry. Sasha is in a double time close march concerning his physical well being. That close march has to occur irrespective of his state of sanity. He is so not ready for all of this. I am not ready.

But of course he must be. And I must be ready to. I looked in his mouth today and I think i saw temporary fillings in his teeth. I need to call our family dentist tomorrow. Oh my god.

Don't get me wrong I am not reactionary, I am just in a fast drill to save a child. I have been in that fast drill for over three years now. I am now just a little closer to the pain. That is not what makes me cry. What makes me cry is all the hurt Sasha manages through every day. Even when he is being that total monster, that is so not what he wants to be - in his eyes he is destroying the very life that he so wants. And he is so testing those in control as to see whether they will give up him. The paradigm is simple - the more he wants the more he destroys. The more he feels safe, the more he will act out so as to test those boundaries.

So I cry tonight. But I also feel better letting others know what rescuing a fully at risk child will entail. It requires your absolute dedication. And while I cry, I realize through the tears there are joys. The pain for your child just totally sucks.

And Then God Blessed Our Home Today

Today started like every other day. Most of the time Sasha wakes up happy, like today. And I never rush the moment from sleep to "getting going." Often times we cuddle on the couch and say our good mornings (in Russian and English) before we start the day with the taking of medicine, vitamins and breakfast. So things went along. I kissed him goodbye and Mom drove him the four blocks to school. Normally, I then get a call sometime during the morning to come and get him. That did not happen today. When Mom went to pick him up, he refused to leave school before the day was done.

God has blessed this family. Sasha was interacting with the kids - even strange kids - and did everything that everyone else did. He did school work, he did art activities!! A child who has never colored anything other than a mass of scribbles brought home a paper crown nicely multi-colored. It is a miracle.

When he got home he was a normal little boy. Active, jumping off furniture and generally running amok - but totally normal in a little boy way. He had such a good day. AND HE HAS FRIENDS!!!! My mom saw him playing with others in his class and when I asked him about it tonight he said they were his friends and then rattled off their names.

He is simply not the same child. And so the day ends in peace. Sasha is fast asleep and the Dalmatians are snoring away on the couch. Life is blessed. Thank you God. And thank you to everyone who has kept us in your prayers. It is deeply appreciated. - Sarah

It is true, I do love carrot juice. All through Russia I would ask for it, everyday. It does wonders for the morale and one's complexion. Since I have been home I have missed many days of pouring my morning glass of carrot juice. Even Sasha notes the mornings I remember.

Thank you C for reminding me of that. It takes me back to the first time we met, at the end of that long flight. You seemed so tired and yet so full of joy, I just knew you were another Mom just a little further down the path. I thank you for that memory.

Today was not such a great day. And Sunday was even worse. I think the hardest part may be staying sane and even through it all. Today, Mom took the worst of it. When Sasha went to school this morning he wanted to go (he has the choice every morning). By the time he got there he wanted to go home so Mom went back to my place. From there he deteriorated. He began his escalating abusive behavior. It is a situation that has become normal in the house. When it starts the dogs hide and the cats scatter.

Finally, Sasha was chucking plastic toys and pieces of furniture down the stairs at my Mom. That was in addition to the rote drama of biting, swearing and spitting (Mom particularly hates that part). And today was one of those days when I needed to be where I needed and to be - out of the house. So I spent a lot of time listening on the phone and praying.

In the end it seemed to be about a dvd. Ironically, once I figured that out and told Mom to give him the silly thing he had already broken his dvd player in the TV room. So now he has the dvd and nothing to play it on. And no, I will not fix or replace that dvd player anytime soon.

And so it goes. Most of tonight was done as a "hand in the pocket of my jacket night." When possible I asked him to sit on the couch for a few minutes of "still" time. Mostly I just wanted him to stop ranting. And being so extreme. Finally, he quieted and I could feed him. Now he sleeps, thank God. Tomorrow is another of those days where I have to be at work and not at home. I hope he does not rant tomorrow.

But he might and if he does we will cope. Our first post adoption visit is on Thursday. That should be fun. The adoption agency I went through has been less than supportive so this visit may be fun.

I often think about what I would say to that judge. Did we do the right thing??? Because, looking back I think only that judge and I have Sasha's best interests at heart. I do not know. Who was this adoption supposed to be right for??? Was it for the people I saw being paid off or for those I saw openly spending the money? Or was it for Sasha or me?

Or was it for Sasha's mother whom I saw watching us in the playground after the court date? As far as I can piece together she was hustled into court so as to reaffirm her relinquishment of rights just weeks before I was in country. I hope all CHI adoptions do not occur this way. The reason why I have this hope is because the woman I saw that day, after court, loved her son. She waited in the grounds of the hotel so as to simply see the woman she had been told would give her son a better life. She wanted to see if I was an okay person to take one of her children to raise as their own. I was so scared. It was my first day outside with Sasha, I saw her, he then turned to me to clutch, she stood up, crushed out the cigarette and walked away. I wish I had been able to chase after her that day so that we could have talked. But it did not happen.

In that instant I became the nurturer of another woman's son. This is a child feared for his medical condition but a child still worried after. I cannot imagine what it feels like to give up a bilateral cleft child after birth and to still worry six years later as to whether or not he can speak. And that is what she asked, just weeks before I was given custody - can he even speak? Today I would yell and drag Sasha after me while tried to get a moment to speak with the mother of the son I love. Not just for him but for me.

Also, I would prefer to not have days like today. Children left in institutions too long have monsters come to live within them. It is scary so see Sasha struggle with so much. He is a good kid. God save us all.

And so the week ends

It is so peaceful tonight. This peaceful moment inspires me let everyone know how wonderful Sasha is doing. I always seem to focus on the gritty reality but, at the end of the day, I am so hopeful about everything. I just want to let people know what it looks likes on the flip side of adoption. I want to do it because nobody told me I would be standing in the bathroom with my son this morning while he notices his pee has turned red. He was cool (and not freaked out) so I played it off but that is the reality of what it takes to treat his TB exposure in conjunction with all the other stuff he takes. And if he cries, his tears will be red and they will probably stain anything they touch. So that is why I talk.

Everyday, Sasha is working so hard on having a good life. He wakes up happy and generally tries (most of the time - okay maybe only sometimes :) ) to comply with the general routine. Today Mom was convinced this would not be a school day so I started the "that's okay" approach with Sash and he was irate. Today was a school day for him. Last night, in his bath he had practiced counting and colors. He was ready for today. So to school we went. He all but dragged me down the hallway and then proceeded to right his stuff on his chair so he could begin his day. His teacher came over and asked me if I could please talk to Sash about the computer cords because the day before he had pushed his teacher's panic button about them. We had that conversation and I also told the teacher Sasha had been testing to see if he had the panic button. That teacher is so cool that he immediately understood and it was okay.

We have gotten through the drama of the week and my little angel sleeps. He tries so hard to be a good boy - despite all the obstacles. Sasha just finished two days of school wherein they failed to give him his meds both days. Unbelievable!!! Yet, Sasha hung in there and it was only on the second day I got a call, 20 minutes before he was due to leave that it "was time, he wanted to go home." He is such a strong and amazing child!! And he is working soooo hard at coping with it all.

Of course yesterday we had to see the doctor that works on his TB exposure issue so last night he was living a nightmare. We did not even weigh Sasha but only talked about the switching him to a med that would not interfere with all the stuff he currently takes. No matter - in Sasha's view of the world all doctors suck!!! We did the drama and trauma thing with him sitting on my lap screaming and tearing at everything LATE AT NIGHT while I have Mom on the phone giving me moral support. AND THEN IT STOPPED. It simply stopped. He then just went into his room and went to sleep.

I think that every time he sees a doctor all hell breaks loose - literally. I decided this morning that I had seen enough of the pattern that I now have all days after doctor visits ringed in red on my calendar so as to denote it as a hell day. On that red ringed day, I will be home to hold Sasha and he will be home so that in between the rants he can be held. There is nothing that can deal with this problem but time. What a silly thing time. It makes all of us old but it is a salve for the damaged. Given Sasha's dire medical condition we will be addressing that 10th level of hell Dante neglected to document.

Today, Mom took my little one to the general doctor's office (while I worked) to pick up a prescription and he started to freak out in the truck as she drove into the parking structure until she told him it was medicine for me. Then it was okay.
He sleeps tonight. Thank god.

Good thing I decided to take a new approach

Sasha was seriously difficult today. Wow. I did not go to work in the morning because he woke up and immediately started looking for trouble to get into in the house. The kind of trouble that can cause serious damage. Finally, I had to go and he seemed better. So Mom goes to the store and he breaks away in the parking lot. He runs into traffic and several people at the store try to help. Finally one of the young men who work there caught Sasha. Then Sasha turned and started biting and spitting at the one who caught him. Oh my god.

She finally gets him home and the screaming starts. And it goes on and on. He hasn't screamed like that since shortly after we got home from Russia. I really do need to be at work so I just kept calling her to check on how she was holding up. She is such a trooper. Finally I get home and he is in full fight mode. He has several scratches on his neck where people tried to grab him as he ran today. It reminds me of the trip home when he got loose in Heathrow and ran amok. I chased him for over forty minutes and hit the marble floor twice - HARD. During that time he ran in and out of stores - taking things as he went. And then there was the security line in O'hare where we had to go back through outside security because we had gone through customs. There he broke free and I literally ripped through the line markers during that little dash. It is clear to me that he did everything he could think of today to get himself sent out of the home.

And then the light bulb goes off - we were at the Cranio-facial clinic yesterday where the doctor examined his mouth and showed me what the first operation would probably address. We will probably give him a little more nose and "flatten" the area below. And there were other cleft children in and around so he KNEW. I think he decided to get himself sent back to the orphanage. No matter what. I think he put an insane amount of pressure on my Mom so I would have to come home and then he would work on me. Good thing I decided to take a new approach.

And it worked. He was hitting, spitting, kicking and swearing at me. He was threatening to run out of the house and maybe hurt a cat or dog. I just ignored everything. He had to sit next to me and at one point I had to hold him in a safe restraining hold because he started trying to hurt himself. He had to go into the kitchen with me while I cooked dinner and I think that is what weakened him. As he has told me in the past there was never any food or milk or juice at the orphanage so the fact that there is always food here for him to eat is a very alluring prospect. The first night we were home I established that he had his own food shelf in the kitchen where he could go and get whatever he wanted when he needed to eat. He controls that shelf and it is always stocked. (Ironically, he rarely gets anything from that shelf - even the goldfish crackers!) That stopped any hoarding issues (I only found an apricot under his pillow one night)in the house.

Too, I have not forced him to a set time for meals, rather he is always given food when he asks for it. I never refuse him food for any reason. I may ask that he have a sandwich before he eats the cookie but he is never not given food. If he is really insistent about only eating a cookie then he gets the cookie. I just tell him I would prefer that he eat other food too so that he can grow big and strong. I do ask him at the various mealtimes like lunch and dinner if he is hungry because sometimes I hear his stomach growl and he still says he is not hungry. I suspect he would have to go a lot longer without food before he would consider himself hungry.

Anyway, food is his weakness. After awhile he quiets and I am done preparing the meal so I ask if he would like to eat. He says yes. And he does - quietly with those large bruised-looking eyes. As much hell as everyone went through today (and my heart goes out the the people that helped chase him down as he ran into traffic) Sasha is probably going through more.

And then the monster that woke up this morning and has lived in the house today is gone. It is like that child was never here. He is struggling to sleep tonight but that is normal. He usually does not have nightmares rather he has them awake, at night when it is time for bed. So the house is quiet and I look at the stack of stuff I need to read for my class. And I pray for Sasha to have a better day tomorrow.

Because the reality is that the doctors want to start as soon as possible given a variety of factors that I do not need to go into here. Frankly, even though they are not saying so, I suspect we will need to "undo" before we "redo." And that kind of sucks. We will have many people to help us through it all but it still sucks.

At the same time, I can maybe plan that the "doctor days" will be followed by the extreme days and plan accordingly. I hope it is something as simple as that. I can deal with planning for insanity.

And so it goes. I actually feel rather upbeat tonight because for now, the monster is gone. In his place is a little boy who seems so scared to me. If I had to face some of what he has to face, I suspect I would be a little insane too. I have met few people in my life that are as strong as this little one. So I love and I wait.

God made a miracle in our lives and I think it just isn't done yet. Like I always say, everything he blesses is not what I planned. :)

So I try a new approach

I tried the "let him do chores thing" and it worked for a day. The emotional fallout the next day was so not worth it. Then, I was sitting in my living room kind of surveying the craters in my life this situation is causing and crying, it occurs to me - I am going about this all wrong!

The first thing to remember is that my kid loves me. All the specialists tell me it is "only bonding" and "attachment" comes later but being one of the two people in the relationship - this kid loves me. Maybe it does not meet all the required marks for the specialists but at the end of the day Sasha sees me as his mom. Frankly, most days I wish he did not because he can be so awful. Yet, he looks to me for comfort and help for such silly things as about how old he is - everyone asks and he doesn't know - in either Russian or English. At the end of the day - regardless of the pain, to Sasha I am Mom. So I have to be - just for him. (otherwise I would be so outta here !!!!! :))

This does not make me happy because at this point he needs the sense of simply being "warehoused" without abuse. So suddenly I see - Sasha just needs to be left alone. He knows he is in America (more or less) and that it is not the group home but he still looks for the monsters in the corners of the ceiling.

Nothing but time will ensure that the monsters in corners or those outside the house will permantently disappear from his daily walk through the house much less his walk through life.

That is what I finally see - the monsters are in his head and not in our world. We do not see his monsters. And he will not share his knowledge of them willingly. His visions come out in moments glimpsed around corners. They are moments Sasha is more willing to talk to cats about than any human. Our world does not know the monsters he sees. We live in a sane world with defined senses of space and self. We have been safe. So Sasha gets a free pass.

Sasha will get to be how he needs to be. God watch over my life because it will be in his hands now. Yet, as I often say, it will be what it wil be.

My work will not be happy to hear that because there will continued accommdations. His school will not be happy because they will be allowed the opportunity to continue to suspend him becasue they do not speak Russian and he does not speak English. And my mom. That is hard. She will cover for me as Mom as I deal with all the other silly people. If I do okay as Sasha's mom it is because I had a totally wonderful mom in Marsha. I thank god for her. It is because of her I am the Mom today Sasha needs me to be. Thank you Mom.