Somedays I am just so proud!!!

As some of you may know, being a parent is often a lot of loving while correcting and molding behavior. The redirection of institutional behavior as it combines with PTSD often seems like such an uphill battle. Rewarding but tiring. My son, who is such a survivor has given me many moments of growth opportunities as he reaches new heights.

So it was with much trepidation that I approached the birthday party of a neighbor kid. Sasha and I have been really sick so at the last minute I said no to going to the actual party but we still had the gift. It was so sweet really, Sasha picked out a multi-game package with SpongeBob. I sweated bullets over both this present choice and the fact that it would have to be given away but Sasha came through with flying colors. I wrapped it up with a bow (Sasha had never seen such a thing) and then he carefully walked it over and gave it to the birthday boy. He stayed to see it unwrapped, was happy Jake (the birthday boy) liked the gift and then was able to go back home.

What an amazing boy. And so sweet. Mostly Sasha is about defining boundaries about what is his. And most days what constitutes his is everything in sight. (We are still working on filling those reservoirs of unmet need.) Yet today he gave a gift from the heart with no strings attached and no regrets. I am so proud of my son. He is such an amazing person. My life is so much richer for him.

I am so lucky. I hope that all who read this blog are well. May God keep you close. - Sarah

p.s. Next week we go to my favorite county fair - I cannot wait to see if we bring chickens home! Sasha adores them and I remember taking care of them from my childhood. I am certain we do not do something so rash. :) Or maybe we will. :) Or maybe Sasha will just get a cool cowboy hat like his Mom. Life is good.

Yep - we are testing boundaries

So no accidents today. Instead just out and out non-conformance. That is what I call his difficult days - a day where Sasha decides to not conform. From the school perspective he is getting worse. For Mama I see a child in grief. And his sense of outrage translates into out and out non-compliance.

Over the weekend I donated clothing and exercise equipment to my favorite second hand store. After donating I took Sasha into the main section to check out the toys. He had a ball. We got gently used toys (mostly of the music variety) and a motorcycle big wheel that he adores. Frankly, I never even thought about it. Yet for Sasha it was a huge deal.

When he asked me why I did it, I told him it was because I love him and want him to be happy. He asks me that question a lot and most of the times I just say - I [did whatever] because I wanted you to be happy. And I think that causes him grief. Like he finally "gets" that what went on before was not so great. Sasha loves me but that rage and grief needs to go somewhere so school is now bearing the brunt of it. And they look a little ragged around the edges. When I was finally able to pry something out of my red chief tonight he said he did not want to go to school anymore - he wanted to be home with mama.

I pity the school because when he gets like this it will not stop - at least for a while. And he is so sweet, even in his non-compliance stage. When I put him to bed tonight his only concern was that I would come back later and put him in my bed when I go to sleep. When I try to leave him in his room he wakes up crying and crawls in on the far side of my bed in the middle of the night. For Sasha, I am his Mama and his world is safe when I am near.

In the end I cannot argue with him because he was not safe until me. That is the funny thing about kids, they can be more right than adults. I love that about my son. And he is growing so much.

Oh yeah - we are trying to get into surgery. The data was lost on a cat scan we did awhile ago so we need to redo that and meet with yet another round of surgeons and specialists. I talk with Sasha about it and he is excited. He wants lips a bigger nose and teeth that look like the ones every one else has. He is so sweet, he always asks if I will be there and when I say yes - then he is back at thinking about all that we can do.

Until the last round of the doctor team visit, I did not know that his mouth "hurts." Until we can get the new scan etc., they cannot even begin to address this pain. I was cool with all the emotional/mental blah blah but putting my child into surgery is dropping me to my knees. I don't even want him to stub a toe. I am not having a good time. And I will probably whine about this issue a lot more given we go to surgery this fall.

But off we go. And I will cry when I need to cry. And I may yell - a lot. And I will hold Sasha's hand - every day. And when he having a non-compliant day, I will make my signature comment "really," smile, find some momentary consequence to impose and then gather him close and love him. He is the most amazing kid and I am lucky to be his Mom.

"New Parent" v. the "Professional"

I think that I wrote awhile back that I was able to get Sasha into a school program that would deal with his PTSD issues. It was a difficult process. Once there I thought people would understand how daily life goes. Now I think maybe not.

Growing up my family often referenced a story by O. Henry about a child who was kidnapped and the kidnappers, instead of asking for ransom, asked to be able to pay so the child could come home. The child of the story was one that, while lovable, was still so problematic yet actualized, which made that child ungovernable by conventional methods. My family told that story about me. All my life the label of "red chief" was me.

And then I went to pick Sasha up from school on Thursday. (He is in a year around school that holds classes through July). As my mom noted, the principal saw me, strode over and couldn't wait to hand him over. From my perspective, I am not used to the principal walking Sasha out and I could not understand some of the verbiage that basically resulted in the hand off of "he is yours now." Others, like his teachers and para-educators, came up and tried to explain, but they were speechless. And they seemed like they were "worried for me."

My kid - when he is done accommodating a situation and decides to be "out of there" he has a large and interesting bags of tricks so as to make the adult puppets dance. That is what he did at school last week. He dropped the "experts" to their knees. And mom and I laughed all weekend. Red chief syndrome all over again. My mom has started calling him "junior" simply because it is so funny.

Yet, my son is showing how well is adjusting to being home. He is now simply just testing normal boundaries. Sort of like the peeing in his pants incidents. Last week, the first of his friends that maybe the first to not be killed or beaten into unconcsciousness so as to secure his compliance wet his pants in school last week. Two times, both accidents. Both times, Sasha elected to intentionally pee in school. In his words - "not an accident." Sash and I have discussed extensively and he meant to do "it."

Over the weekend Sasha came in from the yard and had "pee" in his pants both days despite there being a bathroom close to the backyard. Ironically, Sash HATES anything not clean, especially when it is him, so it shows how much he wants to protect his new friend in his attempts to create a "problem" at home.. On the second accident over the weekend he went into pull-ups. He is now in diapers until he sees that his attempts to protect his friend do not have an logical connection through his underwear. Boys!

Junior is Red Chief - Junior. What an amazing little boy!!!

We have discovered pirates!!!

We have discovered the idea of "ahoy maties!" It was only a matter of time for a little boy watching SpongeBob. His room has already been entirely redone in the Bikini Bottom theme. Sasha decided to hold off on putting the borders up simply because he is trying to "behave" well enough with the cats so as to get a room upstairs.

He totally LOVES anything pirate right now!!! He is sooooo cute. He always does the "argh" and then asks "what you want?!" I always say I want all the treasure in your treasure chest. He then says okay and gets all the imaginary booty out. It makes my heart melt every time. And he giggles so much all the time now. Don't get me wrong, there are still issues but, finally, he may be getting a little happier now.

And isn't that what we all want for our children? Sasha often asks me "why you do that?" It is usually after I gave him something new he needs like clothing or a kiss, a hug or even candy. And I always say - because I love you and I want you to be happy. I am personally opposed to, and appalled at candy, but it means a lot to him so I try. Frankly I liked it better when in Russia he thought my granola bars were chocolate. :)

In this picture he is asking me the "why" question.

In this picture Sasha has discovered money from the Tooth Fairy for his second tooth. Too cute!

And this is Sasha seriously at work with his marble slide.

All in all Summer is a fun time! I hope you are enjoying your summer and God bless. Take care, Sarah

Families do what they do ...

I often think my posts are maudlin and I apologize if they seem a bit sad. As a family we are happy. As a family we often deal with difficult issues. There are the dramas and traumas but we are a family. When Sasha broke that slide in the latest pic we talked about it as a family, discussed the poor choices made and then got over it all.

Yeah I know the slide was only 10 dollars, but to Sasha is was part of his new water world theme park. It meant a lot. One of the hardest things I have had to learn is that what seems to be such a small thing to us is a literally mind-blowing experience for them. Sasha has no frame of reference about playing in a safe yard with simple toys. And so we work at getting him better.

And he is such a wonderful and happy boy. Everyday I know that God has blessed me with this child. And so this family does what we do. Everyday it is the same thing: get up, hang out a bit, eat, get dressed and go to work/school. Then go home hang out a bit, eat, put jammies on and go to bed. And repeat. That is the secret. An even family life.

That is no easy feat of course because I deal with my adult life issues and there are care taking hand off issues. And work issues. Just today something was seriously off in school because Sasha was off. Not bad or difficult but just "off."
But the family is happy. Sasha does so well, he cannot believe that all the love is truly there. He no longer questions me (most days) but love from the larger circle is still sinking in. So we continue. And that is the best thing of all.

Some days I cannot see the forest for the trees ...

I have been so busy in the forest I lost sight of the trees in Sasha's life. In Sasha's world, trees rule and a forest is yet unknown. At least that is what is seems like to me anyway. Such a difference in perspective does not lesson what we do, as a family, every day.

Sasha went back to school today after being home for a few weeks wherein he reacquainted me with his perspective on life. He is the most amazing little boy. He can catch flies by their wings, hold several of them clutched tightly in his fist, only to set them free later. He climbs the fence of our backyard as a lark and only comes back with at the threat of calling the police. (Oh my god!!!!) And he tells me stories. So many stories. I am at the point of simply wanting to find a quiet space so as to weep. And weep, and weep and weep. But as those who have young children know, there are few quiet spaces in the life.

And so we go. given Sasha suffered a failed prior placement we, as a family have all that baggage to deal with as we all go forward. And all that work in Russia for his cleft is now a problem.

Every day I praise God for the life saving surgeries Sasha got in Russia. Without them he would not be home today. He is here now and I now see some of the trees. We cannot really see what was done - it is all such a guessing game. And they sent me home with no documentation of what they did.

And of course he has pain. We went to see the reconstruction team this week and he had been telling me he hurts but in all the "blah, blah" he and I forgot to specifically tell them about it. Sasha is worrying about the pain and I am trying to not freak out while the team is confused about where to start. I told them if they could give Sasha an upper lip like his Mommas he would be happy. Later that day my Mama laughed and said it was a good thing my upper lip was so small - it gave the surgeons a reachable goal. So I laugh and I cry.

As a Mama I grieve over the physical damage done and the hard road back, yet the biggest issues for Sash are mental. They say that for every x number of months your child spends in an orphanage they will be delayed x number of months. Double that equation and then add a few. That is where I found Sasha. Months ago I kept saying I felt like I had a very young child in a six-year old body and it now seems I maternally understood what was going on. Sasha is currently an emotional two year old (maybe) in a soon to be seven year old body. Given his abuse history he also has an impressive array of survival/escape techniques that place my essentially toddler son in harms' way. A lot.

So Mama Sarah keeps chopping at the trees. And we keep talking to the head docs. The medical people have run so many tests. The medical reports are now coming in and they confirm what the Russian doctors said. My Sasha is okay but he has a disability. I told them that but they are doctors so they needed to confirm.

So we hold on tight and wait. And I fight. Sasha is currently in a year around day treatment program at school. My hope is they do their stint and I will keep chopping down those trees. And if someone can point me to a quiet corner so that I can weep I would be greatly appreciative.

Yeah - It is good to adopt! :)

As I read the comments everyone posted, I cried. There is so much love in adoption. Some of it spins out just a bit but it is all good. I am sorry I have not posted in a few days - work continues to bite the big one and I had complications from dental surgery. I will not discuss work other than to refer people back to an earlier post when I noted they refused leave (a federal agency no less) for me to go pick him up in Russia. Idiots. They later reversed themselves over a weekend via work email and then later "told" me they never did the deed. As my son would say - "stupid." I will also not talk about the dental incident other than to say, "if anything can go wrong in my mouth it will." And it did.


It is good to adopt. And it is good to focus on your child during the adoption. I was so focused on Sasha coming home and it sustained me. Now that he has been home a few months, the pictures I treasured as my heart yearned to be a Mom are relegated to the dark corners of a drawer per the kid. It is because Sasha wants pics of his life here.


My son does so well. If you had asked me in the "before time" I would had said I was not the best Mom for an active little boy. Yet, now that he is here I find my sense of self. I cannot imagine myself other than his Mom. And Sasha cannot imagine a life other than me being Mom. I thank God everyday my Mom was such a good role model and is there daily for constant "huddles." I could not do it otherwise.

Tonight he asked in Russian (and this is not a good translation) who I was as I existed - much like what would be the word to describe me if I was an object like a building or a mountain. I told him I am Sasha's Mom - Sarah. That is a description that he is starting to find comfort in.

One of the things my adoption agency failed to inform me about is the fact that Sasha has already suffered a failed family placement in Russia. What is coming out is that particulars concerning a Mama "there" have followed him home to America. That complicates all his issues for sure. And it complicates how he interacts with me. And a certain cadre of familial particulars. But we are getting the job done. And we simply let him talk. And hug. And talk some more. And talk some more.

I would not trade it for anything. I love giving him all that he needs. I love having the bandages, both physical and mental, ready to apply. I love the daily, hourly discussions about when SpongeBob might "be back." Sasha now has his bedroom decorated in "SpongeBob." It makes him happy. Me maybe not so much. The Bob is just so yellow, square and just so - so - so so. I just don't know. :)

I love arguing with him about the vitamin supplements that he takes after the meds. Apparently the calcium supplement sucks taste-wise and everyday is a battle wherein we try to think of new ways to ingest that silly gummy. I love watching him grow physically, emotionally and mentally. While the Momma in me wants to clutch the moments of a young child who might still need a rock or a cuddle, I see everyday how he is pushing into his future with a fearlessness that is awe inspiring. Watch out world, my son Alex is coming - and he is so amazing.

And I SOOOOOOO love being a Mama. :) Take care, Mama Sarah

Do You Know Why You Adopt(ed)?

I thought I did. My father had adopted before I was born and knew all my days how loved those children were. I was the unexpected child of a late remarriage so the family was pretty much set before me. Yet I was loved along with everyone else. There were a few years there where I wasn't sure of who of the children were family or children of my parents' best friends. Hence my early years were full of kids and love- and they were everywhere, in the best sense. I wish every kid had that kind of a start given it gave me an unshakable sense of love, security and community.

I had the best Dad anyone could ever hope for - he was so wonderful. Such an inspiration. And then I have an older brother who adopted and I knew how wonderful that family was - so complete and full of love. And then my life led to Sasha coming home through adoption. He is the child of my heart and there is nothing I would not do for him. He giggles now. There is no better sound in the world.

I suspect how parents handle the problems of their children depends on why they adopted. I wanted to make a difference in the life of a child. I wanted to be a parent like my Dad. Don't get me wrong, everyday it is my Mom who helps me get through the day right now with Sasha and she is doing a totally amazing job. I could not go on without her. Yet my Dad, whom I lost young, was an amazing inspiration too. As an adoptive parent on the other side I now understand all the special things it takes to make it work for both the children and the adoptive parent. Some days I still wish he was here. I wish he was here if only to tell him that I understand how a parent can love so much.

Now I know. I wanted to hold a small hand while walking down the street, talking about silly things. That is one of the best things about being a mom - talking about the silly things. I wanted to give a child what my parents gave me - love. And I now get to do that - everyday. Those are the best memories of my childhood - a beloved parent sitting there with me as I ate a cookie or chattered. I thank God I can give that sense of love and peace to a child now. I also thank my parents for teaching how to nuture such that even the broken heart of a child can seek solace and comfort. And heal. Thank God for that.
Oh yeah, Sasha remains a handful. He lost another baby tooth and is asking for higher payout from the princess tooth fairy. Sasha has also refined his "run away" techniques such that there was an Amber Alert called a few weeks ago and his clutching of a really big pink stuffed pig while he ran through downtown and gave his Mama serious stress - I now live in running shoes. :) Even this week, he decided the head doc's office was not where he wanted to be so his beahvoir totally spiked - on a wow factor chart of 0-10 he was a 50.
Yet, I would not trade it for anything. He is my son. And everyday he makes such amazing progress. I live in awe of this child as he struggles and overcomes. And everday, in my heart, I thank my father for being such an amazing role model of how to be a parent. I adopted because I wanted to give back the love my parents gave to me. I wanted to cause joy in the life of a child. Do you know why you adopt(ed)?

We lost a tooth recently :)

That was a lot of fun - Momma got to play tooth fairy! I seem to remember something like a quarter for a tooth but Sasha did much better. The tooth fairy left him five, count them, five dollar bills. The dentist recently told me he had two baby teeth left that would be gone by the end of the year at the latest so I was prepared for one of the front bottom ones to go soon.

To me his teeth are precious, I would have paid a fortune for even just one. When he began wiggling that one on the bottom front right I called and/or talked to everyone I knew. What to pay - I didn't know. Another thing, I remember accidentally swallowing a tooth that fell out so I constantly worried that I would miss this baby tooth from my little one. Not to worry. Sasha is well trained by the orphanage. He simply pulled it out - even before it was ready to really go. I think we have negotiated that the last tooth can be lost without help. He kept telling me it was broken and I keep saying it is simply a baby tooth - let it be.

So I restrained myself from dropping a fortune on Sasha's tooth loss. Some day, when he is a big hulk of a guy, I will pull that precious tooth out the the safety deposit box and tell how it is one of my most precious possessions. That is the joy of being a Mom.

A Sobering Thought ...

Many people have asked me - how many children are adopted out of Russia? I just found the total for 2008, the year Sasha came home and it is 1865 children. 1865 children made it to their forever families. That is everyone that found a home outside of Russia. That is an amazing number. It is a scary number. I know specifically of at least 10 of those children (besides Sasha) and the wonderful parents and lives they now have. That leaves 1854 that were incredibly blessed. And then I remember those left behind. And I am certain we do not do enough.

These children need homes. As difficult as this kind of choice may be, people still need to step up to the plate and "hit that ball." I will agree it is difficult. But it needs to be done.

Sasha is proof that it is worth it. He has blossomed so much in the short time he has been home. That is not to say the emotional and mental baggage he carries is not difficult at times. Recently we did a stint in emergency surgery that I suspect is tied to depression and suicidal issues. But we got through it. And we continue to get through it everyday. The most amazing thing is that there are people out there that can and will help.

That is the trick - to simply get through it. It is so worth it. I would not trade this joy for anything.

And I think of the children I saw left behind and the 1865 number terrifies me. There are over a million children in Russia alone in orphanages of which at least 60,000 are available for adoption to us in America (and other countries) today. That is a number that creates a somber moment. Even in the midst of my working to save Sasha my gaze turns back, over my shoulder, and hears the pleas of those left behind. I continue to remember the second day of the first visit when many of the older boys lined the wall facing the van and faces they made. They will haunt me until the day I die.

Because I did not adopt a baby and my son was in a remote area, when I went to the orphanage I heard the other children as they called out to "please take me too." Of course I could not. I was there to save Sasha. But I wish someone else would go with me and save these children.

I fear what the number for 2009 will be given the economy. May God watch over the babies.


And yeah, we do much better. Sasha is getting a lot of good help these days. Just last night a lot of the mental poison seemed to come forth in a sort of jumbled mass. Coming forth good, jumbled not so easy to work with. Yet it all helps to make it better.

Knowing he was sent out into the night where he thinks monsters still live gives me the understanding to show him how he is never sent out into the night here (and maybe he can stop bending the blinds looking for them!!). Just last night he told me how he was put out in the rain without cover (by the older kids). Now his obsession with umbrellas make sense!! My mom is so sweet, she now wants to buy him the next umbrella they see at the store. We live in the Pacific Northwest which is technically a rain forest so stores have umbrellas for sale at the entrance. Sasha could acquire a lot of "bumper shoots" soon.

Anyway, back to the original thought - 1865 is not an acceptable number. My Sasha is proof of that