Doctors Need Education, Too

We have great teams of doctors who work with my kiddos. I love most of them, like some of them, and can only barely tolerate one of them. Not bad when you have as many docs as we do that you see as often as we see them. We are blessed.

I like Zippy’s psychiatrist a lot. I think she’s good and thorough at what she does. I love that she’s dark-skinned — she’s from India and has a dark complexion which I like so that Zippy isn’t always the glaring minority in medical situations. (We very purposefully have several docs who are not light-skinned.) I like that she’s beautiful. What?? Sounds materialistic and shallow? Well, just try sitting down face-to-face for appointment after appointment after appointment with an unpleasant doctor; it makes you appreciate beauty!! But overall, I really do like Dr. N.

But she isn’t perfect. She’s human. She’s not an expert at everything. She doesn’t know correct language and lingo for every situation. She needs reminders. She needs to be further educated sometimes.

Case in point: At Zippy’s last appointment, Dr. N was asking for a review of Zippy’s case history, starting at birth, just to serve as a reminder to her since she’s been treating him for close to 8 years. After the birth history was filled in, she moved on to family history. And that’s when she showed that she needed an education.

“And you have 2 children of your own, too, right?” she asked.

Ouch. I’m sure Zippy felt as though his fur had been rubbed in the wrong direction. I know I did.

The education needed: correct language when talking about adoption.

Not “children of your own”  or    ”your real children”

Not “your natural kids”  or    ”your blood kids”

I (and surely all adoptive parents) feel that Zippy is just as much my child as my other 2 are. They are all my own children. They are all my real children. They are all my natural kids since I happen to think adoption is quite natural.

The question she could have asked is this: “And you have 2 biological children, too, right?”

Or better yet: “And you have 2 other children, too, right?” (although in her defense, it is important for a doctor in her role as counselor to know the specific dynamics of the family — how many adopted and how many biological)

The word she was looking for, if she even knew she should be looking for it, is biological.

I am sorry to say that I did not offer Dr. N an education that day. As you’ve heard before, it really depends on my mood whether you get an education and what form that education may take on. This particular day, given Zippy’s mood and anxiety, I decided that less conversation was best and left it at that.

But for all of you well-meaning wonderful folks reading this post, I can sweetly pass on an education to you in the case that you’re in need of it. Repeat the word “biological” over and over until you’re comfortable with it. Use it instead of “natural, real, etc…” And remember that unless it’s necessary to distinguish whether the children are biological or adopted, don’t distinguish it at all. They are all equally their parents’ kids.

Any questions?

Summer Chores

Wow! What an oxymoron! When summer is all about relaxing and fun in my book, it is difficult for me to think, say, and type something like “chores” in a sentence with summer. But challenging my children is also a part of our plan most summers. And this summer is no different.

This week we start all of our summer goals, etc. Part of the goals is stepping up the chores. You should know that as a general rule I have hugely cheated my kids on the whole chore front. I know that I know that I know that I should require chores to build a good work ethic and let them be a team player and to gain the skill of actually completing the jobs. I don’t want to have a few young wives hacked off at me for presenting them with a couple of young men who can’t do squat to help her around the house. But I have really done a poor job at it over the years — partly because it’s just easier to do it myself than to train them to do it and because I really do value the time that my kids spend as kids and don’t want to spend much time doing grown up things like work. (I know, I know … it’s not doing them any favors!!)

All of that to say that most of you will probably not be impressed with the chores I plan to pass on this summer to my 3 kids.

In the past, the boys have regularly taken out the trash in the kitchen and other rooms of the house, taken out the recycling, “cleaned” their bathroom, put away their clothes, and Elliot has emptied the dishwasher. In the last couple of weeks, Elliot has started cooking simple meals: Ramen noodles and Kraft Mac ‘n Cheese; and Zippy has started learning to unload the dishwasher. Chloe hasn’t done much except the occasional dusting, wiping the table, or “helping” with the dishes, in addition to helping (ever so minutely) with cleaning her room.

Not too impressive, eh?

So. Here’s the tentative plan for the summer. And I say “tentative” only because I don’t know how it will go and if my plan is too lofty or too measly so it needs to be flexible.

Elliot will learn to cook more things and be involved in meal planning. He will learn to do his own laundry (and maybe the towels, too). He will continue to clean the bathroom and hopefully learn to do it a little more thoroughly. Taking care of the birds — maybe without being told!!– is also on his list.

Zippy’s chore list will consist of learning to clean the bathroom more thoroughly and empty the dishwasher more accurately. (I cracked up the first time I asked him to empty the dishwasher a week or so ago. I returned to the kitchen to find the entire dishwasher’s contents in stacks on the counter right above the dishwasher. He was genuinely confused as to how he hadn’t done it correctly — “I emptied the dishwasher!”) He will also fold his own laundry (not sure this one is doable ….) and vacuum the main areas of the house.

Chloe will learn to set the table for dinner (using plastic plates and cups for the process). She will also wipe the table after dinner. The wiping of the table will be part of the incentive for her to stay at the table with us during dinner — if she stays in there, then she won’t have to walk all the way back in there! She will also do some of the trash duty; the plan will be for her to carry some of the smaller trashes from other rooms and dump it in the kitchen trash.

And that really covers it thus far for chores. Thoughts? Again, I welcome any feedback on chore ideas and plans for carry through, etc. I’ll let you know how it’s going.

But for now … I’ve got chores to do!

photo credit: je.yalecollege.yale.edu  and thegreenhead.com

UPDATED!!! I must include an update since I’m in a bit of shock and total excitement! Elliot didn’t even know I had made lists or that I was thinking of making lists. I was going to have a little meeting this morning and announce it all. I made the lists and printed them off yesterday and even hung them on the fridge in anticipation of changes and announcements today. Well, guess what my firstborn did?? Before even having a conversation with me, he noticed the lists and took care of the birds. AND he looked for the supplies to clean the bathroom but couldn’t find them! Hallelujah! Maybe we’ll be successful!!

Summertime!

Those who know me know that I LOVE SUMMER!! I love my kids being on summer vacation from school. It is a wonderful time of long, fun, relaxed hours and days together that are really mostly stress-free. I love it! I count down the days til summer finally arrives, and then I laze around and play hard with my kids!

We just finished our first week of summer. It was actually an oddly busy week for me as I had a couple of trainings and meetings. Elliot had a Tech Ed Camp Monday through Thursday so he, too, was busy. Chloe started summer school reading class last week, too, so I was running back and forth taking her to class, taking Elliot to camp, picking Chloe up from class, picking Elliot up from camp … repeat. It was fairly crazy.

But this next week won’t be quite as crazy. Chloe still has reading class for a couple of hours everyday, and I do have a couple of more meetings, but it will be a little more summerish and normal.

Also, next week, we will start our summer limits on screen time and start our summer goals for the summer. This past week, Zippy had unlimited hours on the TV and with the PS3 and wii; he literally could be found in front of one of those screens at all hours of the day. But it was all part of the first week of summer celebration. Hopefully the reality and cruelty of this next week won’t be too much for him to handle.

Our goals for the summer (dare I share them here for all to keep me accountable??) include the following:

• Weekly library visits (getting cards for the kids, too)
• Reading daily
• Keeping rooms tidy (I can hardly type that with a straight face!!)
• Chores (more on that later)
• Math/Reading practice for Chloe and Zippy
• Inviting friends over to play (hopefully every week to keep us from being hermits!)
• Exercising
• Getting outside
• Practicing instruments

We’re starting tomorrow so wish us luck!

Would love to hear how you organize and challenge your children during the summer. I always am looking for ideas and inspiration and encouragement!

Happy Summer! Here’s hoping for many laughs and memory making with my kids!!

The Joy

I bawled. I hung up from talking to the teacher and bawled.

She called tonight before dinner asking for a paper I was to sign. Even though I had signed it and sent it back today, the last day of school before summer break, she hadn’t seen it. While we talked, she realized where the paper probably was so she said to disregard her call.

Then she stopped. She said, “No. Don’t disregard my call. It gives me the chance to say thank you for my necklace — I wore it today.”

And then she went on to tell me how much Chloe means to her … how much Chloe has changed her … and what a tremendous blessing it has been to have her. “I love Chloe and will always love Chloe.”

She mentioned the note I wrote to her that I stuck in the bag with her necklace. It meant a lot to her; she took it to heart, which is good because I wrote it from my heart.

The phone call was a bit awkward and incredibly emotional (and those who know me know emotion is not my forte!). The words came awkwardly, if at all. I feel speechless and forever indebted for the care this woman has taken of my daughter this school year. I assured her that the note I wrote to her was indeed heart-felt and that I would never be able to express to her what this year has been for our family — for Chloe.

Hoping it’s not too personal to share, I’m choosing to share it here since this is where I share my heart most of all and really paints a picture of my family’s gratitude for the team that taught Chloe this year:

We have no words to express what this year has been for our family — especially for Chloe. To be valued, to be appreciated, to be loved, to be held to standard, to be included, to be listened to and taught … and all the while be healed from past hurts. Your heart for teaching and for my daughter is gold and healing balm for us. Thank you for an amazing year!

Yes, it’s from the heart. And truly understated, if you ask me.

She went on to say that there’s no way Chloe benefitted more than she did this year; the teacher said she was the one who was blessed. And she was so glad that Chloe landed in her room this year.

The end of the phone call with the teacher is what pushed me over the edge to tears and sobs. She said she didn’t know what our summer looked like, but that she would like to write letters to Chloe and hoped that they could be pen pals. She also said maybe she can come over or meet us at a restaurant and hang out while Chloe plays … “so that you can stay connected to teachers who care.”

And I said, “Yes!”

I said that I would like it very much.

And my heart is full. My heart is full and overflowing — overflowing all down my face and dripping onto my shirt.

The crazy thing? Just a few hours before, Chloe’s aide made pretty much the same offer. It’s as though they can’t imagine the whole summer going by without getting to hang out with my kid.

And I’m finally letting myself believe it. After an entire school year of my precious girl being valued and cared for, I’m finally letting it really sink in. It’s trying to sink in as the tears are welling up. My daughter is truly valued, sincerely liked, and genuinely missed by folks who love her at her school.

I will refrain from asking what planet I’m on!! It’s crazy, indeed. Crazy good!!

Stage Fright

Butterflies, cold feet, stage fright, nervous tummy — we’ve all experienced it. I have come to expect that sort of nervousness from Elliot before a big day or before a performance. He feels it, and he talks about how he’s getting nervous, etc. Zippy doesn’t really care that much to get very nervous — maybe he doesn’t even realize the potential of messing up on stage and doesn’t really care that people are watching him…, and Chloe has always seemed like it doesn’t really matter to her since in her viewpoint she’s the only person on the planet — and when you’re the only person on the planet, it doesn’t really matter that you are on stage.

However,…

Last night at Chloe’s cello recital, she experienced and expressed nervousness for the first time ever. And it was so severe that she was frozen in her steps!

I must say it was the funniest, most exciting thing I’ve watched in a long time. Stage fright is so amazingly typical for kids on recital night, and quite frankly, Chloe and I don’t have many typical experiences, especially when it comes to her emotions.

You will get the pleasure of watching the video below — just over 2 minutes of video of a girl scared stiff and refusing to hold her cello and her bow followed by her 6-second musical performance on which she did a fantastic job.

I am proud of the job she did! She pulled herself together for her recital piece. But it’s the 2 minutes before her piece that totally fascinate me. Had Paul started the video a couple of minutes earlier, you would have seen her less-than-speedy trip up the 3 stairs to the stage. Her nervous legs and feet were like lead refusing to move. I coaxed her up the first 2 steps, and then she just stopped– a frightened, frozen statue destined to a life forever stuck on the stairwell. The teacher came over and joined in the coaxing, “Just one more step, Chloe.”

She successfully, finally made it to the top of the stairs, both feet planted on the stage, and again she froze. Absolutely frozen stiff in her boots. Fear, anxiety, nerves almost visably wrapped around her skinny little legs, making it impossible for her to proceed a step further. When my coaxing and begging no longer worked, I gently lifted her little feet off the ground and scooted quickly and smoothly to the bench in the middle of the stage where I gently plopped her scared little body.

She sat, growling, with her arms wrapped tightly around the top of her head and refused to touch the dreaded cello which would play the dreaded beautiful music which would cause the audience to explode in dreaded uncontrolled applause. In the video, you will see the teacher and me working hard to convince Chloe to hold her cello and bow. You will see Chloe repeatedly wave Hello to the cello, to the bow, and to the piano, one time even greeting the bow that she’s wearing in her hair — bow, bow … see what she did there? You will see the very expensive and fragile cello nearly crash to the floor; you will see me finally, desperately tell the teacher to just go to the piano and start playing in hopes that Chloe will snap to it. Thankfully that plan worked. Chloe played her piece, jumped up for a bow, and even graced her patient audience with a second sitting bow. Success.

Sweet, entertaining success. I. Loved. It.

And Chloe survived (if just barely) her first solo recital.

Enjoy.

Happy Mother’s Day!

English: jkklglh (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Mother’s Day is a sweet day to remember moms. Flowers, jewelry, hand-made cards, hugs, and kisses. Oftentimes, the family tries to give Mom the day off — no work! — but we all know it’s nearly impossible for the world to keep on turning without Mama doing at least some of her stuff.

I have friends who arrived quite late to church this morning. The dad walked in with an armload of kids who didn’t look quite as well combed as they usually are. Dad seemed a little disheveled himself, at least in spirit. His report: he had tried to give his wife the morning off for Mother’s Day, but it had not gone as well as planned. Great idea in theory and at heart, but the reality wasn’t pretty or convenient.

I love the opportunity to say, “Great job!” to a host of women who have been prize-deserving heros to hosts of children. It’s probably good for our society to set aside days to stop and remember the people who play important roles in our lives. However, I happen to also believe that days like today are just holidays created by Hallmark or other gift companies (maybe florists!) trying to make some extra money for a good cause. But that’s ok since our mommies are well-deserving.

At church this morning, I was greeted by several toddlers/preschoolers with a great big, smiling, “Happy Mother’s Day!” After church, everyone rushed off for plans with family. I really do cherish days like today. Hugs, greetings, blessings.

However, I can’t recognize Mother’s Day without thinking about folks who don’t enjoy the day. Those who have a terrible relationship with their mother. Those who have no good memories of that woman in their lives. A day to honor to HER? And those who have desired for decades to be called Mom but are left without that dream coming true. Mother’s Day becomes a day for everyone to rub that fact in — it’s everywhere. I think of those folks who have lost their moms, either recently or even years and years ago. A day like today becomes a hard, sad day. And for those moms who have lost their child — how do those women fit in to the celebration on a day that pains their hearts? I also think about birthmothers who chose life and adoption for their child — their hearts may be full or hurting … but their arms may feel sadly empty on a day like today. While I am in my house celebrating my wonderful mama and surrounded by my children, there are some who don’t feel as blessed on a day like today. I remember those people, and my heart hurts (only a touch of what they feel) for them.

Knowing how special, yet how hard, today can be for different people, Paul broke down and wept this morning upon hearing of some sweet friends who are finally after many years matched with a birthmother and a baby who is due to be born in less than a month. Today was a “Soon Will Be a Mama Day” for them. Such sweet news and such a celebration of blessing. How fun to celebrate with them — or to blubber and bawl all over them …

But everywhere people celebrate — I know I did. We had my family over for lunch after church. Paul cooked a Mexican feast, and Elliot planned out a Ping Pong bracket for us to have a tournament in the garage after lunch. Moms, dads, cousins, grandparents, siblings, and lots of yummy food and contagious laughter!

As an adoptive mother and a mom to children who live life with disabilities, I am often told that I must be special … I’m so strong … What a blessing I am to him … How lucky he/she is to have me as a mom … I don’t know how you do it … I’m a saint … etc. But there are days — today being one of them — that I am reminded that I am the lucky one and they are the blessings. I’m just doing what comes natural, what I was called to do. But they are the blessings.

Thank you, Lord, for my 3 blessings. They are my children. I am their mama. And I wouldn’t trade any of it for the world.

So to each of you … whether today was a happy day, a rough day, a sad day, a terribly emotional day, or a celebration … I do wish you a Happy Mother’s Day. I pray that those who need healing will receive it, those who lack comfort will find it, those who feel empty or lost will be filled. And those who are celebrating will have an increase of joy.

Happy Mother’s Day!

Not My Deal, Really

This is not a new thought for me. In fact, the idea was first spoken to me when we still lived in Grand Rapids, MI so the kids would’ve had to have been younger than 3 and 2 years old. And I’m reminded of it now and then. I was recently reminded of it when I was belly-aching about how tough life is for ME.

Oh, brother.

Seriously. It was a day when things seemed especially difficult: I am still doing some of the things that all my friends stopped doing when their kids left the “baby stage;” I am having to carry all these supplies everywhere I go when others only have to remember to grab their kids; I am frustrated and sad that I couldn’t figure out what my daughter was trying to tell me. You get the picture. Just all of a sudden one day I was tired and frustrated and thought my life was so much worse than everyone else’s. I was mourning and fighting that I have such a load to carry. How could I carry on? Poor ME!!

And then I was reminded. This thing — this life, these disabilities, these hardships — are not unique and they aren’t mine. They aren’t mine.

When I remember that I’m just the one supporting my children with disability labels, I also remember that this whole deal is really their deal. They are the ones who really have to carry it. Chloe is the one who is stuck inside a body that doesn’t work like she wants it to work. Zippy is the one whose behaviors are so often out of his control, and then he’s stuck with the hurt that his actions have caused his loved ones. They are the ones who live everyday and every moment with their disability.

It puts it in perspective and helps me not get wrapped up and warped up into thinking it’s all about me and about being the mom of a child with disabilities. Ummmmm, no. It’s not about me. It’s about them, and it’s theirs.

Don’t get me wrong, parenting a child with disabilities is lots of work. It is work that takes over your life, mandates your every plan, highjacks every conversation, and monopolizes nearly every thought. True.

But it does me some good when I remember that it’s not about me. It’s about her. It’s about him. And it’s my job to support them in the very best ways I can. And I need to care for myself so that I have enough energy and emotion left to spend on them. But it’s really and truly about them.

It’s not mine. And it’s not about me. So I’m choosing to get over myself and get back to work.

Photo credit: argyleacademy.com