Three Steps Forward, One Step Back

Dr. Purvis in The Connected Child mentions a game in which parent and child do a sort of walking dance, taking three steps forward then one step back. It's a fun little maneuver, especially if you add a bit of a rock and some jazz to the steps, primarily to embarrass your child. (Yes, six year old boys from Africa who happily consent to a mani-pedi from their older sister will still get embarrassed by their weird, rhythm-less mom. "Mum??? Stop!") Even with the one step back, you can still cover a lot of ground.

That's where we are after two weeks and one day home - three steps forward, one step back.

BACK: (I'm doing back first because I want to end with, and remember, all the good stuff.

• To all those people who asked how he was sleeping and I replied with grateful amazement that he was sleeping great once we worked through the jet lag, strike that. Rewind. Sunday night he woke up at 2:30, 3:30 and 5:30 am. Last night, starting at 12:30 am, he woke up every hour on the hour. Not sure if it's a separation anxiety thing (he knows I stay until he falls asleep, "Five minutes, Mum! Sleep...um...Paul...um...five minutes!" then I go to my room to sleep) or if it may be something physical. He's been having some tummy trouble this week. We're still waiting on some test results from the doctor. In the meantime, I'm working through an elimination diet to see if there is a food intolerance. (This week is wheat/gluten.) It's tricky, this sleep thing. Research shows that 30% of adopted children struggle with sleep. Everyone has something different to say about what's best - own room, cry it out, family bed, sharing a room, etc. We started out sleeping on a bed on the floor of Paul's room, but this just makes me tired and not at my best mom potential the next day. 'Course, waking up every hour doesn't do wonders for my patience, either, so we'll see how this plays out. The no sleeping thing also messes with his moods, and I know that when he gets that manic, sleep-deprived, slap-happy look in his eyes I need to act FAST to divert meltdown.
• "Paul boss." Paul has been testing boundaries the last couple of days. Big Time. Like, something he knows not to do, that about which he easily made good choices last week, he'll look at me with THAT LOOK, do it right in front of me and run like a banshee. Then, while sitting on the time in "think it over" chair, he'll say, in surprisingly clear English, "Mom no boss. Paul boss." This one I can handle way better than the no sleep. It just revs up my competitive juices - "Oh, yeah, buddy? How much you willing to wager on that?"

FORWARD:

• Paul went to Sam's softball tournament on Sunday and sat through nearly two games surrounded by people oohing and aahing at him, interacting with, although not talking to, Bruce and Caroline. He learned to fist-bump. Even better, after the ordeal, he didn't shut down or manic up.
• In the last 12 days Paul only fought against the seatbelt one time. And that was a result, I think, of being overly tired as well as anxious about Sam's trip to the dentist.
• He's learning to use his words. Which is huge, considering he doesn't speak much English. When he starts to whine for something, a reminder to use his words will cause him to stop, think, and put words and actions together in a way that constitutes a request. "Mum, pease, Diego" = "Mother, dear, may I please watch ten minutes of Diego on the computer?" I know other six year olds who still have trouble with this.
• While "learning time" still isn't his favorite time of the day, he knows now that after breakfast we take some time to color and count and read; then again after the first outdoor play time of the day. He's been taping his creations on the wall of his room, which is adorable.
• Sam and I went to the art fair at the Summit for several hours, and Paul stayed home with Daddy and only fretted about us once or twice before happily playing with the shop-vac. (Yes, Daddy turned vacuuming his car into a huge adventure. Today Paul vacuumed my car and it was great fun!)
• Paul can now play with Sam, and occasionally independently for short periods of time, without me in proximity and without pushing all Sam's buttons and driving her crazy. Not sure if that's a Paul success or a Sam success, but whatever. They enjoyed each other's company today (Sam even got him to take a nap!) and I was able to cook dinner tonight without distraction.
• Daddy can go to work without Paul saying his name 57 times before lunch. He seems to have acquired the rhythm of our days, and knows that Daddy comes home for dinner.
• Paul learned to ride a two-wheeler today. He went from a Big Wheel to  a two-wheeler, no training wheels! Amazing. He even wears the helmet, even though he complains, "Hot!"

This is - no kidding - his very first attempt at riding a two-wheeler. By the end of the day he was starting and stopping by himself.

It's now 8:30 pm. Paul fell asleep easily after a no-fuss bath and three stories. I'm praying he stays asleep until at least 6:00 am. God's grace was sufficient to get me through today, even though, at 4:30 am, I had some serious doubts. I've learned these last several weeks not to worry about next week or even the next day. Our focus is today. Give us THIS DAY our daily bread. Supply us with the strength, patience, humor, wisdom, insight that is necessary TODAY to meet his needs. Today is all we need. Tomorrow has enough worries of its own. (But, if you'd like to pray for our tomorrow, we're attempting our first play date with a six-year-old neighbor boy. "Tank you very much."

Fake It Til You Make It

Tomorrow marks our one month anniversary of having Paul. Three weeks in southern African and one-and-a-half weeks at home. One month! He, and we, have come so far since the day we met him at MIS orphanage. He was so scared and overwhelmed. Imagine if three very strange, very pale, very tall people speaking an entirely different language swooped into your life and carried you away from everything that was familiar to a whole new world, with rules that you didn't know about living in a family and sharing and obeying, with so many sights, sounds and sensations that it felt like your head was spinning. He's processed so much during this month. He's amazing. So loving and helpful and funny and energetic! God has big plans for this little guy.

In spite of, or perhaps because of, the one month mark, today was difficult. Not Paul's fault - he's doing GREAT. No tantrums in several days and very little whining. No, today was difficult because of me. I have a confession to make. Some days I don't FEEL especially loving. If you are one of those people who always has warm and fuzzy feelings toward everyone in your life, even those people who wake you up at five am demanding love and attention and nurturing discipline, and if you never have the urge to hide in the bathroom and lock the door for ten minutes just to have a shred of peace and quiet, then I don't believe you and I probably wouldn't like you very much that's just goody for you. Because sometimes I struggle with that JUST A TINY BIT!

Paul immediately remembered that something was fishy about the interaction with Samantha last night, and he asked for her right away upon awakening. (Did I mention that this was at five o'clock IN THE MORNING?) I told him she was bapala Katie - playing with Katie - and would be home for lunch. But at five in the morning, lunch is still seven hours away! Paul was not happy about this. First Daddy goes away for two sleeps, now Sam disappears. He said Sam's name 5,257 times. Give or take. We worked on some English pages and played and rode bicycles and watched the ducks and slid and played in the fort and played cars and looked at pictures and went to Paul's fruit market to buy apples and try samples of all the fruit. (Paul loves every kind of fruit. Every kind. Today he ate one banana, four peaches, two apples, one orange, seven strawberries and two clusters of grapes.) And after all that it's still only 9:30 in the morning and I know that Sam and Katie are still sleeping.

I was just tired. He's a wonderful, loving, funny kid. I prayed for him and I love him and I am committed to pouring into him the care and attention that he desperately needs to heal his wounded heart. But honestly? This morning it took every ounce of effort I had to wrap his solid, 50 pound frame, in yet another hug, lift him off the ground and dance. Every bit of wherewithal to show him, ever so kindly, that Mom likes gentle kisses on the cheek, NOT giant tongue swipes across the mouth. (This recent development, which he thinks is hysterical, is just grossing me out.) Every bit of patience to teach him that whining and jumping and grabbing Mom's shirt is not a good way to get positive attention from Mom.

I needed a diversion. I needed friends. So, a friend was taking her kids to the zoo, and I thought, "Why not? He ended up loving the zoo in Johannesburg. Let's try it." So we picked up Sam and went to the zoo.

Ooops.

I think every single person in the city of Louisville was at the zoo today. People everywhere. Noise, chaos, ultra-overstimulation. Paul shut down almost immediately. Sometimes we can ease into situations and he'll adjust and start to enjoy himself after ten or fifteen minutes, but no way we were easing into that mess. We scooted home without seeing our friends.

Paul, obviously relieved to be home, with Sam, released all that pent up anxiety with some hyperactive jumping on the couch (and on Sam and on me). I fought the urge to lock myself in my bedroom and cry. Instead we went in the basement and jumped on the mini-tramp and flipped and did some heavy lifting. "Mama strong!" may be my very favorite Paul-ism. He eventually settled and strung beads with Sam - calm enough that I could go upstairs and make dinner and cry a little bit. Better now. Sometimes I just have to fake it 'til I make it.

Paul is not ready for outings to other people's homes or the park or the pool or - gah! - the zoo. But I am losing my mind without adult interaction. I'm even on a break from editing manuscripts (and how in the world I'm going to find time to work on manuscripts when I start up again I have no idea). Facebook is my only outlet, and that is grabbed in snatches during the day. So, seriously, if you need to go to the Summit or Northeast Christian, swing by and visit us. The house is a mess and I may or may not have showered, but we are keeping lots of fruit in the house so I can offer you a strawberry if Paul doesn't snatch it first.