Hunger

We had stopped home for just the night last week, before catching our flight for the West Coast. Fitz had cleaned out the refrigerator while we were away,and it was completely empty so we ordered some pizza for dinner. When it arrived (our usual 2 large cheese, one large meatball) I called the kids up to eat. Pipo was absorbed in the television, and did not come up right away. When he did, the meatball pizza, his favorite, was gone. He came to me very unhappy. I was in the middle of sorting clothes and packing for 9, and had no patience for crying over lack of meatballs. There was plenty of cheese pizza left. I sent him outside to Fitz, who was doing schoolwork on his laptop out on the porch. I continued with my packing, and eventually sent all the other kids up to bed. When Fitz came in later, he told me that Pipo had cried outside for over an hour about that meatball pizza.

My initial reaction was impatience and anger. We were doing all this work to take a great trip, and treated the kids to pizza to make things easier, and this is his reaction? Then Fitz told me another part of the story. When we had arrived home that night, Pipo did the first thing he always does... he went and opened the refrigerator. I didn't think much of it at the time. I knew it was empty, and I told the kids that we would be getting pizza. We didn't need to shop because we would be gone for the week.

Now though, I thought about exactly what this meant to our son. Every time he comes home form anywhere, he looks in the refrigerator. Fitz does this too, and I thought it was just a 'guy thing'. But for Pipo, the need to look in that refrigerator is so much greater. He spent so much of his young life hungry, and he needs to know that there is food available. Even 2 and a half years down the road, he still doesn't always trust that the food will be there.

Before bringing Pipo home, I read everything I could find on adopting older children. There has been much written about food issues, and I myself had taught Russian orphans who had food stealing and hoarding issues. We prepared ourselves for this, and when Pipo arrived, we treated him as the 'new baby' in the house, feeding on demand. I cooked a lot of spaghetti and hot dogs those first few months. We talked to the school about it, sent in lots of snacks and assured him that he could take breaks to eat any time he wanted. it definitely worked, and we never saw any of the major food issues that we had read about.

This pizza incident brought home the fact though, that early food deprivation scars run deep. As Pipo has gotten older, more stories about Haiti come out. He has told us that being so sick wasn't always bad, because at least in the hospital he knew he would get food. At home with his grandmother he couldn't always count on that. I look back at those early pictures of him and see the distended belly, and it breaks my heart to realize how malnourished he was. And I know now, that checking the refrigerator is not a habit... it is a deep internal need that all the love and assurance in the world won't erase.

We bring children into our hearts and homes, and at times we think all our love and affection, and the 'things' we can give them will eventually "fix" all those wounds. But some wounds run so very deep. Some will always be with them. We can do our best to ease them, and help them cope with them, but we will never erase them. The past is something that can't be erased.

* * * * * *

On the same note, please join me in praying for Haiti. The damage cause by hurricane Gustav has just made things so much worse for the people there. Roads have been washed out, crops destroyed and people who have suffered hunger most of their lives are now in an even more desperate situation.

Back from beyond

Another month has past without a new post, but not for lack of things to write about. Simply for lack of time to write. All told we ended up spending close to 6 weeks at camp this summer, which the kids couldn't have been happier about. At the end, it was incredibly difficult to leave. How do you say goodbye to a place you have come to call home? How do you say goodbye to people you have lived with, laughed with, cried with for such a stretch of time? How do you say goodbye to those same people who have loved and cared for your children as their own? We are just thankful to know what a huge place Windsor Mountain has become in our hearts and that it will stay a major part of our summers in years to come.

We left camp to spend another wonderful week on Cape Cod with family and friends, and then ended our summer with an enormous bang, flying out to the West Coast for the wedding of Shannon, our oldest niece. All 9 of us on a plane, it was quite an experience. The wedding was amazing, held at a gorgeous vineyard outside of Portland, OR. But after the wedding, we spent a few days in one of the most beautiful places I've seen... Manzanita. What a perfect way to end a perfect summer. All 9 of us together, with bonfires on the beach, long lazy breakfasts, and fulfilling Charlie's life long dream, learning to surf!

I have so much in my head, I will try to be posting more in the near future. But as soon as the plane landed in Logan, we were back to reality... school, soccer and all the scheduling that goes with it. So for now, we will look back at the pictures, and remember the magic.

Summer

It's been almost a month since I've posted, almost a month since I have been home. Our 10 days at camp stretched into 2 weeks, which quickly became 3. We drove straight from camp to the Cape for a few days of R&R before we head back to camp this weekend. I have been splitting my time at camp between the HMO (infirmary) and the kitchen. My time in the kitchen is worthy of an entire post of it's own, and when I have the time and energy in the next few days, I'll do just that.

But the busyness of my days has kept me way from my camera, and I haven't been able to capture the pure magic this summer has been for our kids. I haven't been able to capture the way they have been consumed by independence, even little Tommy running off in the morning at the sound of the bell, eager to start a new day. Or the way E.J. has broken out of his shell, volunteering for a 3 day trip to rural Maine to perform original plays at local libraries. Or how Margaret was so determined to improve her swimming that she took swim class every rotation and was able to pass through two levels. Or how Pipo impressed all the boys from Spain with his header goal in the last minutes of the soccer game. Or how Charlie took a short break from playing sports each and every period to sign up for Japanese lessons (or could it have been because of the cute little 8yo Japanese camper?) Or how Emma immersed herself so much into the girls side of camp she was surrounded by teary friends on the day we left.

I am sad I wasn't behind my camera to capture all these moments, but I know in my heart that my trusty old Canon wouldn't have done them justice. Even the most advanced of cameras can't capture the magic we have seen in the last month. We will head back to camp this weekend, and I will try to break free of my duties a bit and snap a few pictures, but the magic that can't be captured will live on in the hearts of all my kids. They are truly having a summer out of childhood fantasies.

Although we haven't seen Kaleigh in almost a month as well, I am sure that she is experiencing just as much if not more of the magic that the rest of us are. We spoke with her on Saturday, and it was clear that this has been the trip of a lifetime for her. As much as we miss her, I am incredibly thankful that she had this opportunity, and we can't wait to see her next week!

Time

There is nothing that magnifies the passage of time

Like that of a youngest child

Every time he holds my hand

I fear it will be the last

Freedom

The young boy pulls his hat down lower, self conscious of his newly bandaged face, of the deep scars visible under the brim of his cap. He is spending the day with a family he doesn't know, and he is nervous and shy. The customs, the people, the language in this country are all strange to him. He runs through the park, following the other kids, but not entirely sure why he is there. Eventually, he is encouraged by their laughter, a universal language, and he joins in their antics, climbing the trees and running through the winding paths created by the shrubbery.

Later, at the strange family's house, he sits quietly off to the side, watching the kids play games that are foreign to him. The lady speaks a few words of Kreyol to him, trying her best to remember the native language of one of her own sons. He nods his head quietly, acknowledging her with a soft "Wi." She points to a rack of bikes in the driveway, and the boy shows some interest, but hesitates, shy again. She holds the bike, and he climbs on. He stumbles, catching himself, rights the bike and tries again. She holds the back of the bike and guides him a ways down the street. Slowly, surely, the boy gains his balance, and wobbles along on his own for a few feet. A few more tries, and he is riding on his own... a freedom he has never known before.

Finally, she sees what she has been waiting for. As he rides down the street, even the hat pulled down low on his face can't hide it. His smile begins slowly with just a hint at his lips. By the time he is riding past her, it has blossomed into a wide grin. For only a moment, the fears, the strangeness, even the new scars from his recent surgery are forgotten. He is a little boy, who has just learned to ride his first bike.

Adopting the older child

There have been many blogs lately talking about older child adoption. These moms are speaking from the heart, openly sharing there experiences and putting it out there for other parents to read. This post really struck close to home for me, made me think. The same blogger wrote more posts that are beautiful and heartfelt, and explain how each child is so different... there is no way to prepare completely for any child at any age. The more I read, the more I found... parents adopting at all different ages, all having very different experiences, but in so many ways, similar experiences. Blogs like this one, and this one.

Reading all of this made me think about our own experiences. I have always tried to find a good analogy for adopting the older child, and used to explain it as a game of chess... where you are always thinking three moves ahead. But that doesn't explain it fully. Our 'low' times with Pipo are few and far between these days, and much less severe, but they are still there. We had one such moment over the weekend, and Fitz and I spent half a day trying to understand this little boy, trying to figure out where he was coming from, why he acted the way he did. And suddenly it dawned on me. It is like reading a book.

Have you ever read a long, complicated novel? Harry Potter stands out to me. Often in the Harry Potter series, I found myself flipping back chapters, to remember certain scenes, certain conversations between characters to help me understand what was happening in the current part of the book. Much in the same way, I often find myself doing this with my bio kids. When they react to a situation in a different way than their siblings, I can look back through our share of stored memories and understand where they are coming from. Tommy had so many health issues as a baby and toddler; it makes sense that he is terrified at doctor's appointments. Kaleigh had a horrible experience accidently hitting a beehive in the woods with Fitz. She is terrified of bees. She is so much more dramatic at the sight of a bee than any of the others. I have read each and every one of these kids' chapters... I can flip back and remember, and use that information to help me navigate the present.

With Pipo, we started this book many chapters in. Those chapters are gone, cut out of the book, and I don't have them to look back through. Pipo, arriving at almost 9, was old enough to ask about those chapters. Occasionally, memories will surface and he will share them, but we have never experienced them... there are gaps and pages missing for us. Every time something comes up with him, Fitz and I try desperately to understand, we so desperately want to help him through. We do our best, but sometimes, many times, we are working blindly.

All this being said, it is one of the best 'books' we have ever read. I constantly find myself dreaming about the chapters to come... the ones that haven't even been written yet. It's a challenging book, this older child adoption, but one definitely worth the read.

Announcement

I interrupt this blog for a very important announcement. Pipo and EJ came brought home the 2nd place trophies for Minor League baseball tonight. Pipo has waited 2.5 long years to earn a "big trophy" like the many big sister Kaleigh has. He was not going to let go of that thing. He even managed to ride his bike home from the park while carrying it!