We’ve been home for two weeks. We’ve had Andrey and Reagan for just over three. We are all well, we are all healthy, we are achieving more of our old kind of normal every week as we hunker down hermit-style in a loud kind of quiet.
There have been a lot of hard things. One of them was the fear that we would never achieve normal again, after days of being on high alert with two new children whose needs threatened to flip everything in our home and lifestyle upside down. We hear the phrase “new normal” a lot, and there is something to that – but that also can mean a loss of the wonderful and non-negotiable things of the old normal, and that’s not acceptable. So we have clung to many of our “old normal” things in effort to establish with Andrey and Reagan that this is the way we do things.
We read together, often. Usually I read to the kids during lunch (or dinner) and then eat on my own later. We pray at meals and bedtime, every night. Kids pray too. Little kids (or those that don’t speak English yet) are led in prayer. It’s just what we do, and what we must keep on doing. We are clinging to normal and teaching it to them, too.
We share and ask nicely and don’t respond well to demands. Neither Andrey or Reagan even recognized the Bulgarian word for “please” and we’ve heard a lot of “eeshkam _____” (I want fill-in-the-blank: a bath, a snack, breakfast, more, etc). They are both learning to replace this with the phrase “May I please…” and that magical words are not just those found on new birth certificates and court decrees.
They didn’t know better. They’re not trying to be rude, and it’s not their fault that manners are not taught in orphanages full of dozens or hundreds of children. It is irritating and yes, it grates on me, but remembering this is important.
We get a lot of questions and comments about Reagan. For the record, depending on what particular issue we’re discussing (gross motor skills, fine motor skills, communication, potty training, self-control, etc) she is currently at a level of a 1-3 year old. And for the record, yes, we knew most of this. She will be seven in November.
It is not her fault that she lived in an orphanage until she was six and a half years old, is the size of a four year old, and acts like a two year old. It is not her fault that it has taken us weeks to understand what we should really expect from her. Our doctor agrees with us that her delays are probably entirely due to trauma and neglect, and will be overcome as she is loved into our family. To be honest, this is small comfort when we are dealing with poopy underwear for the fourth time in 24 hours, but it is on our mind and we remember it in mercy toward her.
They both have some food issues that seem to be diminishing a little already. Andrey is sometimes done eating after thirds now, instead of fourths or fifths, and Reagan is learning that food is not instant and that throwing a temper tantrum will not bring it to her any quicker. Showing her that there is a process of preparing food has helped a lot. We show her the runny cornbread batter, the frozen container of soup or chili, and the act of spreading peanut butter on bread, and panic seems to ensue less often.
Our other kids are doing amazing with all of this. They are super-helpful both in being good examples and also in maintaining normal. We play, we read, we goof off, we do chores, we have teatime, we pray, we dig in the dirt, we build stuff, we dress up, we have bedtime. They enforce routines for all of us.
They teach Andrey and Reagan constantly, and we learn by observing. Last week Iree and Afton initiated a game of Duck Duck Goose with their younger siblings. It took the term “ugly-beautiful” to a new level of “hilarious-heartbreaking” as Reagan screamed in panic and terror over being “ducked” gently on the head by Iree as she went around the circle.
With two weeks at home under our belt, I think we are pretty much over the jet lag. The standard rule of thumb for jet lag is one day of recovery for every hour of time difference, and Bulgaria is eleven hours ahead of Alaska.
There are a few quirks to this rule, though, and you can figure your true recovery time by playing Jet Lag Chutes and Ladders. For example, if you have kids traveling with you, you should add a couple of extra days per child to that recovery. Subtract a day for every three pre-made meals that are waiting in your freezer for when you get home. If you are female and experience a significant part of your monthly cycle while traveling, add about two days of recovery. Add an additional two days for any other female reproductive life change. Subtract two or three days if you are willing to double or triple your caffeine intake accordingly.
In the high alert, desperate-for-normal phase of the last few weeks, when every moment felt burdened with more needs than could be possibly met, He told me this:
In this moment, you only need to be doing what needs done in this moment. Not what needs to be done later today or tomorrow or next week, but just this very second. Not cleaning, not reading, not blogging, not answering the phone or checking the mail. Just do what I am telling you right now.
And often, He was telling me to sleep, or go to the bathroom. By myself, even.
Patience. These things will get done. We have time.
In the moments of frustration, anger, or fear, He said this:
Just say My words. Listen to My songs. Tell them you love them..and just keep saying it.
Piece by piece, the lines will get filled in. She will learn. She has time.
I only had one magnet left to put her picture up with, and when I read it, I knew He was smiling at me.
Or laughing. I’m okay with that, too.
