6 Months of "ALL HERE!"

I'm still here. So much to say and so little time to say it all. But this week, we're celebrating another fun milestone. Mei Mei has been home with her gang for 6 months, as of tomorrow morning. Having The Gang really finally be "all here" after years of longing for our girls and months of waiting for her specifically to make it home has been more of an adjustment than we anticipated. Not in bad ways but sheesh, the calendar is HOPPIN' on a daily basis and I'm regularly amazed at the juggling of all things "mommy administration" that I'm learning. So many things have fallen through the cracks, things that I never missed before. It's been humbling and annoying too. But we are getting a good groove and I feel quite content most days with the routine we've settled into around here. Most days. {Snort}

As for Mei Mei, I'm happy to report that her adjustment has been almost seamless. It's like she was just primed and ready to become the missing little puzzle piece around here. She's settled in with a great big happy sigh and barely a blip in some of the ways that we anticipated struggle or bumpy roads. In these last 6 months, Mei Mei's also been cleared of all possible anomalies that often come with her presenting diagnosis. She's made HUGE strides in language - in fact, she is trying new words daily and we are regularly astounded by how "conversational" she is becoming. Her personality is BLOOMING. She has a very mischievous sense of humor and surprises us with how intelligent her "people skills" are. She's displaying all kinds of signs of very healthy attachment, and her confidence in our love for her and her place in our home is so much fun to watch. We've been able to drop her off to the nursery at church and at my Women's Bible Study consistently for several weeks now and she barely bats an eye. In fact, last week, before I was even ready to walk out, she was blowing me kisses and saying, "Bye! Bye!" She's a great sleeper and we're working on helping her be a good eater. Still can't get her to touch vegetables. Of any kind. Ever. Except potatoes. But we've got some fruits that she consistently likes, so that's big too.

The Boss has been busy getting together all the supporting documentation for our 6-month post placement report, after my 2-hour meeting with the social worker last week. I know lots of folks complain about the meetings but I have to say, I had fun tracking our progress out loud and seeing the journey from the social worker's viewpoints. Admittedly, it was also fun to spend the morning talking with an adult and not repeating myself a hundred times about leaving the cupboards closed and "please don't unstack the diapers." :)

Here's one of the pics that is required for the report - and sadly, one of the only that exists of all 8 of The Gang together. We're working on a family picture sitting with my friend, Marie, who always gets amazing shots of my kids. Which JUST reminded me, I still haven't submitted my order for Mei Mei's 2-year pictures that we had done back in JULY. OH, UGH. I'm so behind in so many things. I'll share those soon, too. Once I get the order placed, that is :)  AND if I remember, I'll share Dr. D's senior picture, cap and gown and all, with you too!  But for now, here we are - 6 months into this Gang of Eight! We're rarely "all here!" at the same time unless we're sleeping. So this was kinda monumental.

Li'l Empress Makes An Observation

I very much needed to get out and about yesterday to take my mind off a "pending package" due to arrive at our adoption agency's offices. For a lunch break, we stopped at the (Very UPscale) Costco cafe. I know, you're all jealous of the decadent life we lead.  Anyhoo.... Li'l Empress and I shared a long picnic table with a Chinese mother and her sweet 6 year old daughter (who looked REMARKABLY like my Li'l Empress. It was uncanny, really!). With a five-year old as extroverted as Li'l Empress, there's no chance for an intimate, quiet lunch in a wide-open picnic table corral cafe like that. So as moms do, once the girls broke the ice, we chatted about age, size, etc. It became quickly apparent that she was gently and politely trying to get an idea of our story. Finally, I cut the sweet gal some slack and opened the door with a "when we brought her home from China" kind of comment. It was all she needed to jump right in and ask about adoption. It was a pleasant conversation and I regret that we both were so occupied with watching over our respective daughters that we neglected to get each other's names and phone numbers. But what happened next was one of those brief moments that I just had to capture while I remembered it.

After the pair left our table, Li'l Empress looked at me and said, "Mommy, that little girl looked a lot like I do." Ooooh, I could tell this was gonna be a good one. She looked so pensive when she said it.

"Yes, Li'l Empress, she does. Do you know why she looks so much like you?"

"Noooo...." she looked at me with puzzlement.

"Well, you look so similar because they are Chinese."

"HEY! I am from Chinese, too!"  Ummmm, yeah, we're working on that. I'm loathe to correct her often, as it's so stinkin' cute....

"Yes, Li'l E, you are from China and so is that Mommy and her daughter,"  I purposely separated them as Mommy and daughter to probe a little....

"Like you, Mommy? You are from Chinese, too?" she asked with cutely furrowed brow.

"Well, no, I'm not Chinese. Do I look like that Mommy? Do I look like you?" I poked a little bit more.

"YES!" She grinned mischievously and tilted her little chin up at me, daring me to elaborate. So I did.

"Well, let's see. What color hair did that Chinese mommy and her Chinese daughter have?"

"Mmmmm, black. Like mine. See? But mine is really longer, like Shayne's. Right, Mommy?"

"Yes, their hair was black. Like yours. What color hair do I have, Li'l Empress?"

"You have golden hair. It's short and pokey. And golden." She waved her hands all around her head to indicated said pokey-ness. Seriously? Short and pokey? I didn't ask for a style consultation. Harumph.

"Yup. And what color eyes did that mommy and that daughter have? What color does your Momma have?"

"Mmmmmm, brown. Like me. And you have green." As she pointed to my eyes, she just about bounced off her seat, much to the amusement of the older Indian couple sitting behind her. I think they were listening in!

"Yup. And Li'l Empress, what color skin do you have? What color do I have?"

"I have brown. You have white. Well, pink. Umm, white. Pink. White?"  (Yeah, umm, I'm kinda confused about that too, my dear daughter!)

"What color did that Mommy and her daughter have?"

"They have brown, too," she sighed. She was getting bored, I knew I had to wrap this up quickly and lead her to the point.

"That mommy and her daughter look a lot like you, Li'l Empress, because they are Chinese. Remember the momma said she lived in China for a long time when she was little? She was born in China, and so were you. Remember the name of the town where you were born in China?"

"YES! I was borned in Baoji! And Mei Mei is borned in Beijing!"  (We had discussed "home towns" earlier with the mother and her daughter, so the towns were fresh in her mind. I promise, she's not ordinarily that "on the ball" with those details!)

"So, that's a big part of the reason that you look a lot like that Chinese mommy and her daughter. You were born in China. You are Chinese too."

"OH! Thanks, Mommy. Can I have some french fries? Some different drink?"  And she was done. Just like that.

For which I am ridiculously grateful.  I don't know what I would have done if she'd thought deeper and probed more about the birds and the bees of Chinese mommies having Chinese daughters and Pink mommies having Chinese daughters. Costco's cafe is just NOT upscale and intimate enough for THAT talk.

But it didn't stop there.... Nooooo, she had one more observation up her sleeve. One kicker of an observation that burst out of her at the check-out counter. Apparently she'd been thinking still about the conversation at our table. As the lovely Hispanic clerk was checking us out and chatting with me about holiday plans and my cute little shopping helper, Li'l Empress tugged on my coat.

In a really loud voice, she asked me, "Mommy, WHY are there SO! MANY! Spanish and Chinese mommies and kids here today?" 

With her hands flailing and the dramatics in her query, you'd think the girl was straight-up Sicilian!  (The expressive talking with her hands thing? Perfect argument for the nature v. nurture debate!)

The clerk and I just looked at each other and grinned. Gaped, really. This kid does NOT miss a trick. In addition to her astute observations of the faces around her, apparently, she is already attuned to the many accents she heard while we shopped. It was indeed another melting pot experience with my fellow shoppers at that hour of the day.

I just answered her simply, "Well, Li'l Empress, all kinds of mommies all over town need to shop for their families and this seems like a nice sunny day to do it. They must all have had the same idea as YOUR mommy did."

And then she was done. And again, I was grateful... The clerks on each side of our check-out line grinned at me and one of them said, "Wow. You've got some tough questions coming out of that little one, don't you?"

Heh. He has no idea. No idea at all.

She's Got Skillz - Part 5

This is it. I promise. This is the last rambling of how we (I?) worked through the process of deciding to send Li'l Empress to pre-school at the tender age of three . . .  Not to say that I won't post a follow-up or two detailing just how she's handling the changes. Or how I'm handling the changes, too.  :) Cuz I know you are all dying to know how marshmallow Mommy is going to handle dropping of her little princess. . .  The blogs are FULL of teary mommas and grinning, back-pack clad kiddoes. Why be any different?!  :)

I was telling you about the issues I've been able to identify that make Li'l Empress's separation anxiety different than, say, my four older bio kids' experiences. While this list is not exhaustive, and might not even be true for any other family going through similar pangs, it's what I am working through and feeling as I'm praying through the journey and ministering to my daughter. I'd love to hear what you guys who have struggled with these kinds of anxieties have experienced... I'm sure your journey and process will help me think and improve my skills at attending to my daughter's heart.

First, I have to continually remember that the noise levels and changes of environments are NO. SMALL. ISSUE. for her. Or for any other child with any degree of hearing loss. For now, while she's on this tremendous learning curve about her environment, changing those environments is a big deal to her. Her Hearing Support teacher and the Speech therapist have been telling me this from the get-go, and seeing it play out in her ever-expanding world is proving their words to be very true.

Second, I need to remember that, while adoption does not DEFINE her, it certainly cannot be discounted when discussed in the context of her sense of security and confidence. Most of the three year-olds with whom she is interacting have had three full years to build trust and confidence that Mommy will come back. That Daddy is a safe place for me to land. That home is permanent.  Li'l Empress has yet to reach the two year mark of that journey. And it IS a journey.

Finally, I regularly remind myself that I didn't push the separation from Mommy with the other kids when they were this age. Baby BlueEyes and Dr. D both really struggled to stay for a full morning in their respective classes, even up through Kindergarten. And sometimes, I'd have to leave Baby BlueEyes in the nursery of our local co-op to teach my American Literature class while he was screaming as if a limb was being torn off one layer at a time. In fact, many times, I would show up early to his room just to give us both time to settle in and calm ourselves before my class. I've always tried to be of the mindset that the more my kids handle these developmental milestones at their pace and their comfort level, the more confident they would feel. And the more confident they would feel, the better it would "take."

However, in the midst of all of these factors, I'm also seeing that on many levels, Li'l E might need a nudge or two stronger than Dr. D or BBE needed. I have to figure out when it is okay to assure her of my love and my return and then walk away. I have to get a balance of when to "push her" to the next level of getting "off the edge" of her emotions and when to let her feel it all and be comforted in the settling. In fact, this recognition of that necessary nudge is one of the biggest reasons that I was able to come to the decision to send Li'l E to pre-school this fall. I don't really know yet what exactly tipped the scales for The Boss. But when I have spent those times thinking and praying and researching, I just kept coming back to one big factor. While I could work really hard to provide and supply all the same things that pre-school will provide for her academically and therapuetically (in terms of listening skills), this "nudge" could only be accomplished in this season in this way.

It's a humbling thing, to come to the recognition that your three-year old needs something you can't give her. I mean, I've had this revelation many times, over the years of parenting the five kids God has given us. I've learned it in many different forms. But each time I learn it, I'm still humbled. And not just a little startled. Startled at the degree to which I must have somehow thought I could handle this one on my own. Startled that I haven't fully learned yet just how much I need Him for wisdom on this journey. Startled at how slow I must be, how dense I am to think that the last time I learned the lesson wasn't enough.

Conversely, or maybe in tandem, I am also grateful to learn that I can't do this all for her. I'm grateful that she has the opportunity to learn from others, along-side others. I'm grateful that there are resources out there to help us with these "necessary nudges."

But most of all, I'm so humbled and grateful that the Lord is her best parent. Her ultimate parent. I get to be the vessel through which He parents her, when I'm cognizant of my proper role and status in His eyes, that is! It takes the burden off my frail shoulders and keeps it where it belongs. His shoulders are big enough to bear it all and when I keep this mindset, I remember that the outcome lies in His hands. He knows the process I've been through to come to this point and He's using it to better equip me to parent her.

Hopefully in that process, I'm also learning skills that will help me parent the other four more effectively. And maybe even help me to be a better, more supportive friend to the moms around me who might be struggling with a part of their journey.

He created her. He loves her even more than The Boss and I ever possibly could, and He will work out in her the things which He needs to do for her growth and maturity. He has a plan for her life, and I'm grateful I can be a part of it. Even if I'm a little slow on the uptake and tend to over-think every step of the way. He knows that about me, just as He knows how scary it is for Li'l E to see me walk away from her. He will cover it. I'm counting on it.

So, on Wednesday, Li'l Empress will start pre-school at the tender age of (JUST NEWLY) three.  Sigh. It still feels incredibly young to start this educational environment. It still makes me tremble to think of dropping her off for 6 hours a week away from me. I think I'd better make sure there's a box of tissues under my driver's seat. I have a feeling I'm going to need them!

She's Got Skillz! - Part 4

If you haven't read the beginning of the journey we've been on recently about Li'l Empress and pre-school, you might want to head here. Or, you might not.  :)

It's been a lengthy set of posts. But then, it's been brewing in my brain and percolating in our home for more than 6 months already, so....

As I was saying in Part 3, there are plenty of things we've been learning along the way to deciding what is best for Li'l Empress this fall. I've so appreciated the perspectives that some of you have shared with me, here, in private and on F@cebook. I've also appreciate that so many of you have understood where I was coming from, as we walked through the decision-making process. Thanks for the information, the input, and the encouragement!

~ ~ ~ ~

So. We've had an incredibly busy summer. Unusually busy, even for us. Between the shortened summer schedule (due to our local district's teachers' strike), the addition of band camps and football camps, and a part-time job for Shaggy, I feel as if I spent a good portion of July in the front seat of my van. That translated to a lot of rushing and hustling on the occasions that I chose to bring Li'l E and/or the other kids along for the ride. Or a lot of "Mommy has to run out for a minute, I'll be right back," when I needed to leave her behind with one of the big brothers.

On the one hand, I think most of the time it was very confidence-building for her to be left home to see and experience that Mommy will always come back for her. On the other hand, when the days were particularly fast-paced and busy, it also led to a lot more chaos in the house. Which negatively affected her listening environment (Picture 6 of us rushing through potty time, meal time, shoes on and out the door... See what I mean?). The "in and out" of the car also seemed to be a bit of a struggle for her, in terms of changing scenery too often and too quickly. She learned some valuable skills this summer about going along for the ride, rolling with the punches, and all that. But I don't think we always struck the right balance and sometimes she got pretty wigged out and over-stimulated.

One of the best ways we've found to combat that over-stimulation is to get her into the pool as often as possible and for at least an hour at a time. Not only does it wear her out (always a bonus in terms of ensuring a good nap!) but it also opens up her listening environment. Getting outside, having the vast-ness of the yard and the pool area, it all worked towards "opening up" her ability to handle background noises when she was struggling.  I noticed that even when the kids had the stereo pumping out there, she can focus on our voices and communicate without whining and without tuning us out.  I'm not totally sure if that's a coping skill, a release-valve, or a distraction issue; but we all benefited from it and utilized it as often as we could squeeze it in before nap times.

However, even with this kind of prevention mechanism in place (and a couple others that I've figured out over the years of parenting pre-schoolers), we found that there has been some regression to some what we call her "anxious behaviors." For example, when we first arrived home with Li'l Empress, she did a fair amount of hair-snatching as a self-soothing technique when she would take a bottle and fall asleep. We got her a little "lovey blanket" that we call Wubby Dubby and re-trained her hands to occupy themselves with that when she was drifting off. The other day, I was cleaning her room and found an excessive amount of hair accumulated on top of her storage bins under the crib. My heart sunk. I knew it was more than just normal hair loss that comes from rubbing her head on her pillow and mattress.

Another thing we've noticed is the return of the "Royal Melt Down," when she is "on edge" or struggling to feel secure. We'd actually had quite a fair length of time without these "freak outs" (as the boys call them) prior to July. I'd say even a few months of a stretch without this level of hysteria. They aren't pretty - her heart races, she screams at this ridiculously, high-pitched frequency that makes dogs (and Daddy!) cringe, and she gets clammy and sweaty if she's not reeled back in quickly. Most of the time, they are precipitated by some kind of separation from me. It can be as big as being left in her Sunday school class without me or as common as me walking away from her too soon after nap time. The hardest part is that once she gets to this level, it takes a fair amount of face time (mainly with me) to pull it back. On the positive side, we have noticed that she doesn't linger in that funk nearly as long now as she did, say last summer. But still, they are hard to press through when they occur.

There are a couple other little habits creeping back in, nothing as big as the previous two I've mentioned. But ones that bear monitoring. Especially in context of the unpredictable schedule, the big learning curve of being three, and the changes coming to her little world. I've talked about it before, but context is the key issue that I think I keep coming back to. None of her behaviors, anxious or typical, are really that unusual. But in the context of . . .  her world. IN CONTEXT. In my frustration with her struggles, I have to remind myself to give the conversation its proper context. For example, one behavior has cropped up JUST since we started introducing the conversation of pre-school. It might be a coincidence, it might be developmental, but it's there, it's relatively new, and it's happening. I cannot ignore it. I'm not reacting to it, rather addressing it calmly and matter-of-factly. And I'm still talking up the plans for next week's first day of school. But it is there, still.

Several weeks ago, someone asked me what the difference was between Li'l Empress's separation anxiety and other three-year olds' anxiety that is developmentally normal.  It's a fair question and on some levels, I don't know why it's so much more provoking for her than it is for her little friends on Sunday mornings. But on another level, I know it's different for several reasons. The biggest thing I do know is that if it isn't attended to in a trust-building manner, it quickly escalates to PANIC. And I think we all agree that allowing our kids to feel that level of panic serves nothing. And can even do some damage if we're not intentionally covering it with our love and comfort.

In my next post, I'm going to address several issues that I think about when I'm addressing Li'l E's anxieties. I don't do them all consciously. In fact, I had to sit and think for quite a while after I was asked that question about why her separation anxiety might be different. It's certainly not exhaustive, nor is it perfect, but it's some of  the stuff I've come up with that motivates me to act in a loving and protective manner with our girl.

She's Got Skillz! - Part 3

The first part of this series can be found here. In case you care to read the full story of our foray into the world of pre-school. . .

So. I'm sure you are getting the picture by now that the decision to put Li’l Empress into the local E@ster Se@ls pre-school program was not made lightly. Or quickly. In fact, her therapists have been gently nudging and suggesting and leading into conversations about it for almost the whole time that Li'l Empress has been in the Early Intervention circuit. I heard them. I thought about it. I talked with The Boss about what I was learning. I prayed about it. I read information when and where I could find it. I questioned other BTDT moms who have children with varying levels of hearing loss. I went back and questioned them again. I asked The Boss what he was thinking. I prayed. I thought. I prayed some more.

By the time we got to the tour of the building and the "meet the teacher" appointment, I was settled. I knew that this was right for her. The Boss? Not so much.  He panicked. The visual of a real classroom and his little princess sitting in that classroom was too much for him. He kinda shut down.

A little bit of background for you all:  in our family, I am the information gather-er. I am the researcher. I am the knowledge geek. If I hear about a topic or an issue that interests me, affects my family, or makes me stop and think, I go about educating myself.  In the process, in my enthusiasm, my family (whether they like it or not!) learns some of the information with me. I can’t help it. It spills out of me. I wish I had been this enthusiastic about learning when I was in school. Or when I was in college. You know, when I was actually PAYING MONEY for this same effort and focus.  But I digress. . .

As the information-gather-er, The Boss has been able to (most of the time!) trust that I have thought and studied the stuff that I’m talking about.  This has come into play much more heavily since Li’l Empress came home to us than ever before in our years together. He is in a high-demand position at work and I have the full-time job of Mom. This kind of thing falls under my job description. We’re both good with that. Most of the time.

When we entered the pre-school building, peeked into the shiny playground equipment and smiled at the mini cubbies for “pakpaks” on the day of our tour, The Boss realized this wasn't just a topic of conversation anymore. We walked and talked, and he listened to everything that the director and I discussed from my mental list of questions.  I say, “the director and I” because the more she talked and walked, the quieter he got. I could feel him shutting out the noise of her voice, her spiel, her intentions and her plans.  She was speaking to us as if attending pre-school for a child with unilateral hearing loss is a foregone conclusion.  Before we entered the building that day, he and I had come to a pretty close to definitive decision that Li’l Empress would indeed benefit from pre-school.

But like I said, seeing the classroom, being in the classroom, observing the other kids interacting with the aides and teachers:  it all became too real for The Boss.  The director was just chatting full steam ahead without the benefit of knowing The Boss’s facial expressions and thought-process; and that’s always a hard way to get true, accurate reactions out of him. High-energy, fast-talkers drain him quickly. And she was. Both.

(Heh. Don’t even go there, I know. I know. Can you believe we’re coming up on our 20^th anniversary?! I’ve learned a lot about communicating with an internal processor over these 20 years, I tell ya! And I blog when I have more words than he needs to hear... J ‘Nuff said.)

In fact, he asked a couple questions that really put me off my mental track.  As if he had never heard the information contained in her answer before. I immediately took offense (I know, I'm so mature that way. Ugh.). But when I got off my high-horse and put away the “I told you all that before, weren’t you listening to me?!” huff and puff, I eventually (much later in the day, I am chagrined to admit!) realized that hearing us talk about it at home, while Li’l E was “safe” and under our coverage is one thing. Picturing her in a classroom 10 minutes from home, away from Daddy’s reach, is quite another.

I was reacting quite oppositely, now that I think about it. Seeing the newly painted playground equipment and hearing the songs that the kids were singing – all of that got me a little excited for the new adventure that would be facing Li’l Empress.  I had arrived at the conclusion that this was right for her sooner than he had, and without the need to process the difference between thinking about it and actually being there in person weeks before.  The Boss was playing catch up.

Looking back, I should have anticipated it better. Really, the same thing happened back when Li’l E needed to have her ABR and CT scan done shortly after coming home to us. It happened a time or two in China, as we were working through the early stages of attaching to our baby girl and helping her attach to us.

He’s definitely an “I have to see it” kind of thinker and I see now that I could have anticipated it more before we entered the preLi'l E's particulars first. Sitting to talk with them about Li'l E's needs later, or even at another appointment, would have even been more productive for The Boss. I think I re-learned some good relationship skills while I was thinking through this part of the process and trying to work through it with The Boss.

Stay tuned. I think I might have one more post brewing in my head about this whole adventure. The connections to attachment and separation anxiety cannot be ignored . . .

She's Got Skillz! - Part 2

*If you are here from No Hands But Ours, please
leave me a comment indicating that. I love the honor of
the shout-out I got for this post and I'm interested to see
who came by because of it.

If you missed Friday's post on my first tip-toes into conversations about pre-school, head here.  Otherwise, read on...

Li'l Empress's unilateral hearing creates some unique (to her) circumstances that make pre-school this year (at the tender, early age of JUST 3 - gasp! Sigh.) a really important consideration.  Now, I'm no expert on hearing or hearing loss, nor am I academically equipped to give you all the technical jargon for what happens inside Li'l E's head. But AS I UNDERSTAND IT, the ability to effectively tune out background noises and TUNE IN to important (and sometimes even urgent) sounds is a skill that must be developed over time. It does come naturally to some degree, as she's never known anything different. But it also has to be practiced and developed. It's been a conscious effort on our part to change some of our environment to aid her acquisition of these skills, and she's been quite successful here in the safety of our home setting. And if there's a set-back or regression in her handling of the noises of home, we all re-adjust or tighten up some of our habits. It's been a safe place for her to try, to experiment, and even to fail. None of this has been terribly conscious on her part but we see her growth and her efforts regardless. The progress and the change in just two years has been fun to experience together.

This mechanism that she is developing and honing continually requires tweaking and adjusting even within the consistency (at this point in the summer, my older kids call that monotony!) of our home life. When our home environment changes significantly for any length of time (for example, when we had my sister and her family here for 5 days), she has to almost "re-calibrate" the norm that she is experiencing. Or rather, she has to re-calibrate how she functions in response to that environment. At this stage of her life, that shows up in moodiness, exhaustion, or anxiety. In fact, with the unusual schedule and pace we've kept this summer, we have also seen some regressions in her separation anxiety.  (That's a post for another day, trust me!)  

So, while she is perfectly capable and successful at "knowing" what noises are background (sibling chatter, dishwasher running, etc.) and what noises are crucial (Mommy's voice, Shaggy's drumming :), Daddy's car in the driveway, Kai Lan on the tv!) here at home, "knowing" the difference between other kinds of noises elsewhere is a skill she must acquire to be successful in school and not experience any regression in her hearing and communication skills. Now, this may be a really dumbed-down description of the type of processing that goes on when Li'l E hears environmental noises, but it's the best way I can summarize the research I've read and the clinical discussions I've had with her therapist, audiologist, and ENT. Introducing her to the school environment (at the tender, early age of JUST 3 - gasp! Sigh.) seems to be the best move for Li'l Empress. It seems to be a tried and true means of introducing her to the next level of acquiring the listening skills needed for the eventuality of the elementary classroom. (Sigh. I can't ignore or deny the information, no matter how hard I try.)

AND, (because it can never just be one thing at a time when parenting children!) that's all ON TOP of the normal skills that pre-schoolers are adding to their repertoire. Shaping and molding her strong will toward  submitting properly and respectfully to our covering and authority. (Have I mentioned before? She's the strongest willed of all five of our kids. By FAR and away!)  Teaching her some age-appropriate emotion-management skills. Guiding her choices and figuring out the delicate balance between independence and reliance. Being as consistent and present as possible with her for all of it. Those are tasks set out before me that, in and of themselves, make me want to cower in my bed and delay the start of yet. another. long. day. by another hour. Or two?! Put all of it together, and that's just for one kid?! Oh, but wait. This post isn't about me.  Hee, hee. Gulp.

Yeah. So. Where was I? Oh, yeah. Pre-school . . .

So, we made the decision to put her into the local E@ster Se@ls pre-school program for two mornings a week.  I have so much more to share about the process and the different reactions we've had to it all.  In fact, I think I might make this a multi-parted series of posts.  Not because I have any great wisdom or knowledge to share. But because I really hope that what we are learning can help someone else. Because I learn so much from all of you and your insights and comments. And because writing it all out like this helps me process and think through the journey - hopefully saving me struggles on the learning curve for future adventures with this little one.

Parenting a special need child, parenting any child really, is something that none of us should be doing alone. I've said many times since we chose to pursue a Waiting Child adoption that I feel like I've gone back to college, given the amount of academic-type reading and information-gathering that I've done in the last three years.  This conversation about pre-school is not one I'd planned on needing to consider when I was researching microtia or unilateral hearing loss (or when considering our history of not "needing" it with the older kids), but it's been valuable and terribly interesting for me in the process.  No matter where Li'l Empress falls in the continuum of special needs, no matter what success she has or doesn't have going into the new school year, the skills I've been gaining along the way have been very useful.

And not surprisingly, I've learned a lot about a few other areas of life that are sure to help this momma as I grow in my role as her advocate and biggest cheerleader. That's coming up soon. . .

Conversations in the High Chair

The Gang's Momma (while listening to praise chorus in the background): "Oh, let's worship Jesus. Hallelujah, Jesus. We love you Jesus."

Li'l Empress: "La la looo ah. Jeee uh."

TGM: "Awwww, Li'l Empress. Do you love Jesus?"

Li'l E: "Awwww, I lah ah."

TGM: "Yay. I love Jesus, too."

Li'l E, signing while speaking: "Moh Jeee uh."

Amen. "Moh Jeee uh" today. For all of you!

A Bit of a Rub

Several months ago, I found this great site, called Creating a Family. Since then, I've recommended it to several friends. It covers tons of issues related to building your family, whether biologically (and all the methods that might entail) or through adoption (both domestic and international). The insights from both the writer of the site and the guests she features have been so helpful. I've also enjoyed the recommendations and resources that this site offers - I feel that most of them are very trustworthy. I come away from this site educated and informed about a broad spectrum of issues related to raising my family. I'm hoping to get my iP*d fixed soon so I can subscribe to the podcasts. I know I'll enjoy those during my walks or while the boys are schooling and using the computer during the day this fall.

Recently, Dawn's blog addressed an issue(here) that has long been a bit of a rub for me, more especially since I have become an adoptive parent. I was tending to think that I was just being too sensitive. Turns out, there's a whole host of folks that feel that certain rubbing against the grain that I felt. I love the thoughtful and logical discussion of the issue as Dawn addressed it.

I'm really interested to know what you think of this issue? Please, head over there and read the blog entry. But come back here and share your thoughts. I'd love to learn more from your perspective!

I Have A Special Needs Child

The other day, I took the kids to our local library. It's a wonderful place, full of Christian books and media and we all enjoy incorporating it into our summer routine. It's housed in a large, regionally-minded church. The bonus for me is that there is a lovely little cafe and an indoor play land on site also. We usually make a whole morning of it.

This week, our visit was different. This week, I was reminded of something that I don't have to think about every day. This week, the Lord used the events of the morning to show me something that I hope The Gang can all learn from and use to honor and equip our Li'l Empress for her future as a child with unilateral hearing loss.

Hang in there with me, this won't be the shortest post I've ever written. But I've been praying through the events of the day and processing it since Wednesday. I'm hoping that The Gang will learn from it; but also that you might learn something that you can someday, somehow use to bless another in your life. Not necessarily an adopted someone, or even a someone with hearing loss. I am hoping that the lesson we're working through will be able to translate to a variety of circumstances. When something big happens to me like this, I want to be able to process it and re-interpret it for a variety of similar circumstances in life as I experience it. Cuz' that's how I think. It's that big-picture thing I got goin' on, you know.

So anyway, this cafe and play land is a huge cavernous space, with tall ceilings, glass windows surrounding, and tiled floors. There are no softscapes to soften noise, save a couple small couches and area rugs around the perimeter of the space. The echoes themselves are startling. Add to that the regular noises of a busy cafe (grinders, steamers, cash registers, whirring fridges, running water, etc.). Add to THAT the normal exuberance of children running all over the space, laughing, yelling, crying, and sometimes screaming. Further, throw in a dash of mommies talking, often in loud voices over the hustle and bustle of the environment. What do you get when you throw all that together and give it a good stir?

Well, you get a really poor listening environment.

I never heard the term before we began working with our local Early Intervention team. But it is just what it sounds like. A really difficult environment to be able to hear individual noises. A place where the constant echo and the dull roar of what amounts to "white noise" is literally bouncing all around the room. A space where identification of sound and its source is nearly impossible for someone with unilateral hearing loss. You see, when we listen with both ears functioning normally, our brain can filter out the unimportant background noises and help us identify what noises we need to pay attention to. Voices of our children. The cashier telling us that our warm scone is ready. Children in distress. Cars speeding toward us. Fire alarms. You get the picture.

What I observed in our short time on our outing on Wednesday is that Li'l Empress was working really hard to keep up with all her little brain was taking in. She was having a hard time isolating the voices of those who make her feel safe. What the Lord graciously pointed out to me is that on days like this, I must remember that I do, in fact, have a special needs child.

Now, as her mommy, I am keenly aware that she is special. Not in the "all my children are special" way, although there is a huge dose of that in there. Rather, I am training myself to be aware as often as I can that she does not hear like the rest of the world. But quite frankly, in our daily home environment, that doesn't come into play in any sort of an emergent or crisis mode. It's more in observing that she's been playing alone for longer than normal. Or in noticing that she's sitting in her high chair with her head on a swivel while we're all chatting around her. Not the most polite or respectful way to treat her but certainly not unsafe. At those times, I stop the conversational free-for-all and remind us all to take turns and try to include Li'l Empress as much as possible.

It struck me while working quickly to wrap up our outing that these poor listening environments are physically exhausting for my girl. It was all too evident in her very short fuse and her emotional melt-down that was looming (why I was working so quickly to get us out of there!). The difficult thing is that I was also managing 4 other children who were blissfully unaware of the stress that their little sister was experiencing. And that I was trying to manage.

I'm a tad embarrassed to admit that while I was corralling everyone out to the van, I started to make the high-stress situation about the older kids' behavior. I focused on their actions (which were annoying and difficult to contain, but certainly not the SOURCE of the stress) and started to "go to town" on them. I felt a physical check in my heart and stopped my rant. It surprised them all. But in that moment, I told them what was really going on. I just laid it out, all that I'd observed. My gratitude that the Lord showed it to me in a safe and non-crisis situation. I reminded them, and myself. Li'l Empress has a special need. That need is one that effects every environment which requires her to listen. And our family must work together to help her first to feel safe and protected. Then work with her to learn to cope with and identify those sounds which are most important to know. We all needed that reminder. We all needed to stop and think about how things feel and sound from her perspective.

It's going to be a great thing for Li'l Empress, to be surrounded by that kind of love and care. It's a great way to further build our sense of family and mission. It's going to make us all better people. More compassionate. More aware. More in tune with the sounds that really matter.

A bloggy friend (and fellow LH'er) once said something to this effect (about her own daughter):

"She has a special need. Her special need is us.
And our special need is her."

That sentiment has stayed with me for our whole adoption journey and pounded in my heart as we prayed and sought the Lord for wisdom on whether or not to pursue a special needs child. It came back to me again on Wednesday.

I am The Gang's Momma. I have a special needs child.

Language Explosion!

Recently, I started a list tracking all the words that Li'l Empress uses regularly, that we recognize, or that are clear steps in the direction of the real word. It's become quite an impressive list. She's so verbal and just chatters away all day long. I'd post the list but seriously, every day she attempts at least one or two new words and tries them on for the rest of the day. I can't keep up with the explosion. Yesterday, she said "Nigh Nigh" for the first time. Today, she repeated "Meeee" when I asked her if the big kids were being mean to each other. Already, she's said it four or five times when they were misbehavin'. And that's another thing: she's figured out that nodding means "yes" and shaking her head means "no." She uses it so appropriately, after months of not even trying it at all!

Her baby babble is quite a treat for all of us. Especially fun is when we catch her "talking" on the phone. She's got inflection, expression, and attitude galore. She even throws her head back and laughs in the "conversation!" We've been trying to capture it on video but you all know how that goes. The minute the camera is on, she stops the stuff. It's driving us crazy, and our little digital camera has been getting quite the work-out with the "delete" function!

She's also taken to praying for anyone and anything around the house that strikes her as a need. Randomly throughout the day in this past week or two, we hear her yell, "Pay!" "Pay!" She lays her little hand on the need, bows her head and mumbles. Followed by "Ahhhhbuh." Yesterday, she prayed for my cousin's large and tender, ummm, uh, facial blemish. Yeah, we'll call it that.

But the cutest thing of all is that last night, while prepping her for bed, she was trying to sing along to "Jesus Loves Me." MELT. MY. HEART. I am not the world's best vocalist by ANY stretch of the imagination. But my already screechy voice got totally choked up at the sound of my sweet girl chiming in "I Luh Uh" (I love you) and "Gee Gah" (Jesus).

This coming week marks the one-year anniversary of the first day we saw her sweet little face and got the word that we got our girl. (Stay tuned, I have a cool post coming up on that very topic!). When I listen to her singing and babbling, I can't help but think of how different her life might have been had we not heeded the call of the Lord to pursue her.

Would her heart and mind and mouth be exploding daily with new words?
Would her little voice still be petitioning the throne on behalf of those she loves?
Would her little heart still be full of song to her Maker?
Would she be growing in the security and confidence of knowing that her Savior formed her, loves her and dances over her with His own singing?

I may never know the answers to these questions. But from where I'm sitting, I'm totally okay with that. After all, I have the joy of watching her personality and character explode alongside with her language right here in front of me. And I believe that's just how the Lord intended it for her all along.