Wrapping It All Up

Wow, we've been trying off and on all day to get our internet connection to last long enough to be able to post here. I can't say that I'm sure the connection will last but I'm gonna try my durndest to make this last post from China a good one. NOT that we did a ton of really monumental stuff but it IS the last post after all.

After a late lingering breakfast at the heavenly buffet, we sat and chatted with friends for a while, enjoying the giggles of the little girls as they played. We felt like we really clicked with this family and we look forward to keeping up with them as we all settle in to the business of regular life outside the adoption trip bubble.

Then we headed back to the room to begin the packing process. Silly me, I can't seem to efficiently or effectively pack unless I empty the suitcase and start "from scratch." So that is exactly what I did. For my clothes. For Mei Mei's clothes, for all our toiletries, for my carry-on. For it all. As I packed, I pulled out excess of things we either didn't use or wouldn't need at home. I gathered them all up and made a bag up for our guide. We asked her to use them for her family's needs or to share them with other coming adoptive families. It's our prayer that the general prescription and over-the-counter meds serve someone well in their times of need. We are terribly grateful that we had no need of any of it, (except the Imodium for The Boss's food poisoning episode!) but also very thankful for doctors who prescribed it as good contingency plans.

While we were bustling about packing, Mei Mei had her own ideas of how to help.  Literally, everything had to be moved to the middle of the king-sized bed - once I discovered that my neatly folded piles of socks and tees were being snatched and thrown into the suitcase across the room. Unfortunately, the middle of a king-sized bed is also pretty much out of reach for me! My body got quite a great "P!lates" style stretching work-out.

Once the clothing was out of reach,

she moved on to the bag of dirty laundry.

No matter that there are at least five noisy

toys scattered around the room.

Putting her little legs in Daddy's t-shirt

armholes is way more fun!

She was temporarily distracted from

the dirty laundry fashion show

by snacks and juice in her stroller.

But only temporarily!

She is totally mocking me.

Lets me put a cute hair clip in.

But JUST when I think, "Oh, YAY! She's gonna leave it alone,"

she smirks and slowly, gently pulls it out.

Even when I keep my expression blank and neutral.

OY.

After a hard-core hour and a half of packing and cleaning up, we met Vicki and her sister Kelly, along with 2 of Vicki's daughters for lunch. She and I have been reading each other's blogs for years now, having found each other by way of  No Hands But Ours and Ni Hao Ya'll and our common interest of parenting adoptive children with hearing loss. They are here adopting Claire, a delightful and spunky little girl with a quick smile and a blooming, blossoming heart. Her daughter Ava came along for support and is so sweet and loving - I got a hug before I was even properly introduced the other day!

It's 7:20 p.m. here in Guangzhou. We are staying in, finishing up the random left-over foodstuffs and finalizing travel plans. Please pray with us that we get bulkhead seating for the extra space and the baby bed it offers. Once she falls asleep, she sleeps through pretty much anything. (For example, the crazy loud radio alarm we didn't know that she set for 6 a.m. today when she was playing with the clock last night. Sigh. On our ONE morning to sleep in a bit!) It would be awesome to have that break for our arms.

Daddy lovingly bit off the skin of this apple

(I inadvertently threw out the plastic knives I found when re-packing!)

for his little bit. She LOVED chowing down on it!

Hopefully, all the random left-overs sit well on her tummy

and fill her up at least till we get in the van tomorrow morning!

So, that's it. Our last day in China. Nothing terribly exciting except that it was all spent getting ready to come HOME! Oh, how I love that word. HOME. Hugs and kisses from my gang. Familiar germs. Land of Diet Wild Cherry Pepsi, uncontaminated chicken and eggs, and drink-able water from the tap. OH! And coffee with sugar-free hazelnut creamer in a great big Tigger mug.

I'm not a complicated momma and these simple things of my life will be even more treasured than previously. Especially when enjoyed in the comfort of my own home, surrounded by my gang. I can't wait!!!!!

Unplugged

If you didn't read yesterday's post, please head there first. It'll all make so much more sense when you read this one :)

After Li'l Empress's traumatic Tuesday and Wednesday, we tried really hard to resume as normal a Thursday as we could. We had kids to taxi around, bulletins to write, jobs to catch up on, laundry to fold, and friends coming in and out all afternoon to swim. The weather was still brutally hot and Li'l Empress was still super clingy and whiny and anxious. Her restlessness was evident in her hair-twirling and myopic focus on various things throughout the day. Heh, by lunch time if I'd heard one more request for a freezer pop, my head would have exploded. We managed most of the day by tools of re-direction, distraction, and short-term goals and little rewards along the way. We gave her short periods of time on and off the hearing aide throughout the day but didn't push it when she was ready for a break. We just re-introduced it later, as per the parameters of the trial.

Earlier in the week, friends had extended an offer of a free trip to Hershey Park for The Gang on Friday. We spent most of our down time on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday debating the merits of going or not. I knew in my gut that it would not be the best choice for Li'l Empress, given the continued heat and her still-lingering anxieties. So I decided to take advantage of the opportunity presented and made the choice for Li'l Empress and I to unplug for the day while the rest of the Gang enjoyed the sweet (pun intended) treat.

The Gang headed out bright and early Friday morning, water bottles and iPods in hand for the trip out to our friends' house and all things Hershey Park Happy. And as soon as they pulled out of the drive, the unplugging began. I let Li'l Empress sit quietly with her dry cereal and juice to watch a couple of her morning kid shows. I sat in the other room and folded towels and watched the news.

When her shows were over, the tv went off and she got dressed, made her bed, brushed her teeth, did her hair and started her day. Unplugged.

No hearing aid.

No tv.

No music.

No Wii.

No swimming.

We occupied ourselves all day long, sometimes together, sometimes separately. We played the Memory Game. (I got beat soundly!) We read books. We had a couple snacks. We ate lunch together.

She colored. She did puzzle after puzzle. She played with her wubby. She read books. She had quiet time in her room with just her stuffed "buddies" and her blankie. No sleep, but she rested quietly. 

I cleaned the hall closet and the game cupboard. I re-organized the crafts and consolidated them into one tidy cupboard. I made blueberry cobbler. I folded lots of laundry. I read a suspense novel.

We ate dinner quietly. We read more books. She colored and made love notes for the whole family. She took out the window markers (a rare treat usually reserved for really rainy days).

And slowly but surely over the course of the day, I could see her relaxing. She was no longer hobbling between rooms. She was laughing. She was forgetting about the band-aids. She was finding peace again.

It wasn't perfect, by any means. She freaked out a little when she first woke up and found out that she couldn't watch tv till all the kids and Daddy were gone. But I reminded her that she wouldn't watch anything if she couldn't improve her attitude and she chose wisely. She did melt down at lunch when one of the band-aids fell off. But I quietly and matter-of-factly just replaced it with a smaller, clean band-aid and moved on. So did she, after a couple prompts.

By the time she headed off to bed, I could see a huge improvement in her eyes and her posture. So much less fear, and certainly less anxiety. She was able to giggle during bedtime snuggles and prayers and was happy to crawl in for the night. Such a marked difference from the previous night even.

I'm so glad I listened to my gut instinct. I'm not a huge fan of amusement parks, so the decision wasn't going to cost me anything personally, beyond missing out on some time with our friends and watching the big kids enjoy themselves. But I knew by then (heh, again, slow on the uptake!) it could and would cost Li'l Empress dearly. A LOT more than I was willing for her to pay at the end of that difficult week. I am blessed to be married to a man who trusts my gut when it comes to our kids and this time was no exception.

And you know what? It was worth it. Though it definitely took some doing, some cajoling, and some bargaining and a couple missteps along the way, Li'l Empress was able to get in the pool and play with her sibs and her cousins for a little while on Saturday. She steered clear of the diving board, but she did it. And did it on her own terms. Considering how much she loves our pool and how much she NEEDS the activity and movement that it provides, I'm really glad she conquered that on Saturday.

Now, if we can just get past those darned band-aids. Loves them. Hates them. Can't stop thinking about them or talking about them. Sigh.

Day 5

Today is Day 5 of Li'l Empress's soft band

bone conduction hearing aid trial.

I know. No warning, no updates along the way to let you know what was coming. Just those little teasers that leaked out at the end of last week. Bad blogger. In my defense, our sweet audiologist kind of sprung it on me quite suddenly at Li'l Empress's 6 month hearing check. The day before Shaggy's big huge graduation party. That rolled right into a big huge June Birthday/Father's Day party. That rolled into two days of Momma Coma while I attempted to recover from the huge adrenaline high I'd been running on for a week or more.

And then it was time for the appointment to start the trial. Whew. I'm still not totally recovered from all of it, I suspect.

Anyhoo!

Li'l Empress has been wearing the soft band for short periods of time for the last four days. We are definitely noticing some things during the trial period that are noteworthy and I'd LOVE to hear from other folks who have done this with their kiddoes to help me understand and gage our experiences.

The most noticeable thing is the funny, almost robot-like way she speaks for the first few minutes it is on her head.  I know it's that she is hearing herself in a new way for the first time in her little life but it provides GREAT comic relief around here. Which is a good thing cuz the other things we are noticing are well, not as much fun.

The other most noticeable thing is how tired she is.  Now, we know that our household has been very busy since mid-May and it's likely catching up to her in many ways. But we have noticed a marked change in the last 4 days - she doesn't fight nap time at all. She is very cranky around 1 every day and falls asleep quite easily. And bedtime seems to be a welcome relief to her for these past four nights. I totally understand why and we've purposely structured our days since Thursday to make sure she is home for nap time and able to "crash" during the day with books or a kid show as needed. I'm so glad our Miss Laura (the audiologist) told us in advance to expect this.

Finally, the other thing we've noticed is that she has definitely been advocating for herself by doing things like relying on visual cues, asking to have the tv turned up or down, and learning how to ask for a break from the band when she's feeling "done." This has come after some serious melt-downs (particularly the first two days) but she's really improving in just the last 24 hours with her choice to speak up for help as opposed to breaking down in a puddle of tears. That emotional "limit" seems to be expanding. That's a very good thing now, but man, Thursday and Friday and most of Saturday were challenging for The Boss and I to manage and talk through with her.

We are loving how she is testing things out for herself. It's so fun to see her testing and questioning and trying to learn for herself. For example, she likes plugging up her hearing ear with her finger and asking us to talk to her to see if she can hear us.  She's testing volumes all the time. Which is kinda cute but also kinda loud on occasion. I'm okay with that, most of the time. We've also noticed that she loves blocking the little microphone on the conductor and making the feedback go crazy. It makes her giggle and us cringe. Which I know she loves.

I've had quite a few folks ask why we are doing this, if her hearing ear is working so well for her. Well, that is a valid question that I've asked often myself. According to her speech and language development, she is pretty "on target," with the exception of a stutter that seems to be lingering longer than is stage/age appropriate. And she is eligible for speech and language services, along with hearing services once she starts school in the fall. But only having one hearing ear can and already sometimes does affect her learning capabilities. The goal of this trial and eventually the permanent use of the aide is to enhance and boost any way we can her capabilities to catch all the learning opportunities in school and daily life. Her IEP stipulates that she have an FM system on her desk at school. The FM system will train her to and give her access to the "important noises" in the classroom - the teacher's directives and instructions that she needs to succeed in her academics. But it will not AMPLIFY the noises around her.

That's where this bone conductor hearing aid comes in. It amplifies all the noises around her by adding sound to both ears. The tiny conductor takes in the noises, turns them into vibrations that travel through the tab on the band, stimulating the mastoid process, and sending the vibrations to the cochlea. We have known for a long, long time (remember the tests she had done when she was really little?) that her right ear hearing was excellent on the inside. Everything that goes from her right cochlea to her brain handles sound and stimulation really, really well!

Amplifiying the noise will allow her to catch other noises such as classmates' input, announcements from the PA system, and other background noises that are regularly missing or at least muffled for her without the aide. This will be particularly important when traveling outside of her home-base classroom. I'm anticipating that it might be a bit of a mixed bag of support when in the gym or the cafeteria, as we've already see that she taps out a bit when all 7 of us are hanging out and we're not being mindful of the expanded experience her aide is creating. Basically, the hearing aid will open up the sound field for her in ways that the FM system cannot.

In the coming days, I'll be sharing more as we are learning. And I'd love to hear from you! Have you been through this with your kiddoes? What insight or observations can you share? Are you looking at a trial like this for your child's future? What questions might you have? I'd love to get a conversation going - this is something that I learned a lot about from other BTDT parents before we even sat down with our audiologists - I'd love to share that with others and make the conversation beneficial to all who want it!

D!T!C! - Finally! and Other Important News

After a long and circuitous route of documentation, detours and delays, we are so very excited to announce that The Gang is finally DTC (Dossier to China) as of Wednesday, June 27th!!!!

For those of you who read around here and are NOT immersed in the sea of three-letter and two-letter adoption-ese, that means our big huge pile of adoption paperwork containing all our most personal, legal and private information has been sent to China. As I type this, that almost-sacred package is winging its way to the Chinese government offices to be logged in to the massive waiting list for prospective adoptive parents.

It also means that we are able to review and consider what are called Special Focus files. Those represent kids from the Waiting Child program who maybe have more complex needs, multiple needs, are older, or often are boys. It's kind of like a micro list within the greater Waiting Child Shared List. Truthfully, it's unlikely that we will find our girl on that particular list considering the "list" of needs that The Boss and I have indicated would be possible for The Gang to accept. This list was created in the early stages of our paper-chase and is based upon a extensive survey of needs and the degree of severity that we feel comfortable accepting responsibility for when we consider parenting a special needs child. For example, we feel completely capable of accepting the file of a child with unilateral hearing loss but not one with total deafness. There's some great explanations of all of that here on this site. (It's also a great site for basic understandings of everything we're doing, if you are interested!)

After DTC, we should receive an LID (Log In Date) in about two to four weeks. At LID, we then have official permission to view any file from the entire Waiting Child program. This will also be the point at which our agency begins actively attempting to match us to a little girl with each monthly release of the Shared List. 

While we are greatly disappointed that our file is only just now being DTC'd (yeah, I just made that up!), we are relying on what we know to be true of the process and more importantly of our God. It's not for nothing, it has a purpose, it's all in His control and He's got our backs. This we know. I sheepishly admit, this was also hard to hang on to when last Monday we got news of yet another delay that brought us yesterday's DTC date. May was an extraordinarily difficult month for our family and early June was more of the same. These delays and detours were certainly a big part of those difficulties. When I say we are "relying" on that which we know, I mean that we kept repeating it to ourselves and to each other and tried to take turns being discouraged as opposed to both of us being disgruntled and disappointed at once. We're a good team, that way.  Heh.

So now we wait for our LID and we increase our prayerful focus on our Brynna girl. This is the part of the journey where we get to really test our trust and our discernment as we review files of the sweet little girls that our lovely Social Worker feels "could maybe" be a match for The Gang. It's no small responsibility when reviewing these files. We must prayerfully consider the needs presented in the medical history, the needs of our current family members, and the dynamics of how those things could interact together. While doing all of THAT, we must also be very careful to remember that the file represents a CHILD. A sweet little girl who could be our daughter. And that she is not her needs. She Is Not Her Needs. That is no small task, given our knowledge of the Waiting Child program and the experiences we had with our first adoption journey to Li'l Empress. We take it all very seriously and your prayers over our family and over our decision-making are appreciated.

We are also excited about another big event going on here at The Gang's house, on this very day. I'll be sure to come back later and try to get my thoughts and feelings and reactions to all of the big doings down here. Suffice it to say, with Li'l Empress heading off to Kindergarten in the fall (sigh, sob, sigh) there are certain interventions and supports that her care team wants to investigate. Those of you who read here with special interest in microtia, atresia, and unilateral hearing loss might particularly want to come back and check it all out. I will LOVE hearing from those of you who have Been There and Done That with your own hearing loss and hearing assistance journeys.

Hitting Triple Digits

May has been quite the milestone month for this gang. I became the mother to THREE teen-agers under one roof. We survived our first son's first car accident. We saw our dossier compiled and completed. Now we are just waitin' on the word that we are finally DTC (Dossier to China). Our Shaggy has been officially accepted to YWAM Denver for the fall Discipleship Training School. Sigh.We muddled through another month of three part-time jobs between the three oldest of us in the house with only 2 regularly reliable cars. We are down to 11 days of school left. I haven't killed anyone my alarm clock yet.

Aaaaand The Gang's All Here! hit a couple of really important milestones too.  On May 17th, this blog marked its 5th anniversary. You can read my first goofy post here. Really, I can't believe it's been five years already!!! I have been looking forward to this occasion for months, but with all the crazy irregularity goin' on around here, it completely slipped my mind the week of... I'm so bummed that I wasn't more on top of things to make a big deal of the occasion.

And then last night, whilst I lay moaning and groaning in abdominal agony on my couch, my follower-ship hit the 100th follower!!!!! I hit the triple digits with followers!!! Yay, me. Yes, I know. It felt a little anti-climactic, given that I basically missed the actual moment. I'm frustrated that I didn't get it together enough to have a fun event over that one in advance either. Life seems to be happening faster than I can type it out :)

So, in an effort to still mark these wonderful moments, I'm backpedaling and you get to help!

In honor of the auspicious occasion of my 5 Year Blogoversary, please get yourselves down to the comments and let me know how you found my little corner of the blogosphere. If you can, tell me your five favorite things about hanging out here or the five reasons you keep coming back. I know it sounds self-serving, but I am really interested to know what keeps this little blog chugging along for you all. And it IS my anniversary, ya know?! It's the little things that make a gal happy 'round here. And that? Would make my supremely happy.

AND to celebrate the triple digit-ry of The Gang's followers,

it is my distinct pleasure to introduce you to the actual 100th follower:

Theressa Putland!

Her blog is called "Ramblings And Photo's of Family Life" and it's relatively new to the bloggy world. Head over to the above highlighted link and give her some comment love to get her started off on a good note. I'm especially pleased to be able to connect you all to Theressa because she is a fellow adoptive momma of a sweet special needs daughter from the Philippines. She lives in Australia (how cool is that? The Gang's All Here! has gone international on several occasions now!), is the parent of a brood of three and reached out to me as a means of networking with other parents of children with hearing loss.

Theressa, welcome to The Gang's All Here! I hope you and your little corner of the bloggy world down undah find lots of connections and support in the blogging community and specifically within the adoptive blogging community. Thanks for following along! It's a great world and I'm proud to have been a part of it for these past five years!

Creating a Network

In the last two months, Li'l E has undergone several different evals and consultations with an eye toward assisting her hearing in the educational setting. While I'm not a fan of picturing my Li'l E heading off on a big yellow bus for her first day of kindergarten, (sob!) I am well-aware that planning ahead and gathering the information and doing the research is the best thing I can to do for us to make the decisions that we need to make. (More on the forecasts of what is coming down the pike for our girl at a later date...)

So. While I'm studying up on hearing assistance devices, hearing support and speech support therapies and more, I have a few questions for you, my readers:

Are you a mom of a child with hearing loss?

Are you a reader of a blog written by a mom of a child with hearing loss?

Do you have a hearing loss of your own that you talk about on your blog?

I am looking to create a bit of a network with this information. For now, I don't envision anything more than a special list on my sidebar that connects us all together. To learn from each other, to share resources and information. To support and encourage each other in the parenting of these little treasures.  Who knows what might come of it?!

I've already been a long-time reader of 5 Minutes for Mom's excellent sister site, called 5 Minutes for Special Needs. And I've learned a lot, connected with some great folks, and used it as a starting point for other resources that I still enjoy today. But that site is a broad umbrella of all kinds of special needs and I am feeling the desire to hone my focus in the search for connection with other families who are living with varying levels of hearing loss.

If you are in that group, please leave a comment today. If your blog is not accessible via your comment, please consider leaving a link to your blog. If you have any suggestions or resources that are especially helpful for this venture, leave a comment.  I'm not quite sure how else to go about creating this network, I just know I'd really like to take a stab at it.

I'm The Sucker

Our local elementary school hosted a huge event this weekend. Not really a fundraising event, but more of a "welcome to spring" and community-building activity. The "middle" kids have been bugging me for weeks to go over and check it all out. I relented, knowing that The Boss would be busy with the bathroom and the older boys had school-related activities. We had a morning to kill and this seemed to fit the bill.

As soon as we walked in to the gym all decked out for our "Spring Fling," I realized I hadn't thought this through very well. First of all, the event was in the gym and the adjacent cafeteria. High, cavernous ceilings. Open beams. Hardwood floors. Concrete walls. Metal rolling door and window coverings. Super great if you are into industrial decor. I mean, those steel beams and big bolts make a pretty chic statement if you are into that.

Not so great if you have hearing loss.

 (I've talked about environment

as it is related to hearing issues before...)

And the crowd. Oh, the crowd. Screaming, yelling, running kids of all ages. Parents shouting to be heard over the din of their children. Music blaring in one corner for a cake-walk game. Microphone bleating intermittently with announcements for the crowd. Popcorn machine popping. Beeps. Dings. Metallic and wood bumps and thumps as doors opened and closed.

Really not great if you have hearing loss.

But I gotta give my girl props. She did pretty well at hanging on to LadyBug's hand and trying to speak up over the din. Taking it all in, sticking really close (read: velcro close), and trying to enjoy the very close contact with all of LadyBug's SQUEALING! B!F!F's! who were SO! HAPPY! to see her.

Enjoying it, that is, until the Super Slide.

Rising high up to the vaulted ceilings of our gym, this blow up slide was the main event for the kids at the festival. Li'l Empress and LadyBug were totally hyped up about flying down it. Together. That is, until they got into the line and the rules were given. Each child must be able to climb up alone. And slide back down. Alone.  We know that Li'l Empress is quite physically CAPABLE of heading up and back down alone. She's very athletic. But would she?  No. STINKIN'. WAY. She was already GLUED to LadyBug's hip, with a "terror grip" and pinchy fingers. Go up alone? Apart from her security blanket of the moment, in the person of her big protective sister? Ha.  No, thankyouverymuch.

But when they got out of line and it hit LI'l Empress that saying "no" to climbing up alone also meant "no" to sliding down? Well, welcome to meltdown number one.

And remember, she's already employing most of her little three year old coping skills to handle the HUGE! AMOUNTS! of background noises. Seriously, I was starting to max out MY coping skills for the raucous roar around me. (Yeah, I was getting a little cranky and we'd only been there 1/2 an hour. Ugh.)

We thought maybe we'd have better luck at the MoonBounce.  We thought wrong. Apparently, there was a line for "big kids" and "little kids" - and Li'l Empress was having NONE.OF.THAT. To her credit, LadyBug was super encouraging and so sweet, trying to talk to Li'l Empress in cheerleader tones. "You can do it, Baby. You'll have so much fun."  She even pulled out the tricks and lines from Li'l Empress's favorite show, encouraging her to not be afraid to try new things.  No. DICE.

But again. When she realized what leaving the line meant for her future on the MoonBounce to play with sissy?  Welcome to meltdown number two.

Yeah. We were having fun now! On the up side, we've learned how to help Li'l Empress recover from the meltdowns more quickly. Distraction is a huge trick, we employ it regularly. For her hearing issues. For her three year old issues. For her baby of the family issues. Yeah. Momma's a big fan of the distraction technique. For her hearing issues, removing her from the room for a brief respite also proves to be regularly helpful. So I gave LadyBug a ten minute break to hang with her peeps and Li'l Empress and I walked out to the lobby and snuggled for a bit.

On the downside? There wasn't much else that intrigued Li'l Empress with quite the same degree of excitement as those two events at the festival. We didn't last long in the lobby because the draw of the bright colors and yet-undiscovered fun spots was oh, so strong.  So we did some wandering around and attempting to distract. Not much was working once we got back inside.

Until we found the Lollipop Tree.  Oh, the blessed Lollipop Tree.  For the cost of one tiny ticket, Li'l Empress got to stand in front of a tower of brightly colored suckers and PICK! ONE!  When we figured out just how distracting and exciting the LOLLIPOP! TREE! was to the Li'l Empress?  Well, we made up to that tree as if it was Santa himself. Nothing like a little ball of sugar on a stick to make things all better for my girl.

Leaving me to wonder.  Just who is the sucker here?

Back on Track

In the months since Li'l Empress began pre-school, I have noticed in small and almost immeasurable ways that The Gang has gotten kind of lazy about maintaining some of the environmental changes we made in respect of her hearing issues. Nothing huge, just some creeping in of bad habits that barely blipped on anyone's individual radar when they were happening. Things like talking over each other at the dinner table (not in rude, interruptive ways, more like multiple conversations happening at once).  Or the iPod being on too loudly for too long.  Or leaving the morning news on while the boys were fixing their breakfasts and talking. Quite often, the microwave and/or the dishwasher and/or the washing machine would also be going all at the same time. Finally, there's been a return of the yelling across the house or up the stairs lately. Which easily (too easily?) became yelling for lots of other communications as well.  (Not even going to tell you how often I've fallen into this mode of communicating lately - suffice it to say that snow days, cabin fever, and hibernation are not always my friend! Ugh.)

As a reminder, unilateral hearing loss (hearing only from one ear) is a very easy special need to live with, and some of the adaptations that a family can make to create a good listening environment include the absence of "white noise" or cluttery-type background noises, speaking one person at a time (this is a tough one in a large family!), limited electronic noises (tv, iPod, stereo, computers, etc.), and face-to-face communication as frequently as possible when addressing the member with the hearing loss.

(Click here and scroll down to the section that says

"Profound Hearing Loss" for a great description of what Li'l E lives with daily.)

Unfortunately, if you are also a parent, you well know that these kinds of  bad habits almost always start small. With a slow creeping in that eventually feels large and looming when you let yourself finally acknowledge their presence.

Put all that together with the fact that we haven't really had a "normal" (for us) routine since before Christmas break and I was kind of knocked upside the head with a bit of awareness the other day that had been eluding me in the previous weeks.  I knew something was "off" for her, (not just for her but for The Gang in general if I'm being really honest about it all) and that her frustrated and often defiant behavior wasn't just about being three. I forced myself to observe her for the last couple days, and to observe the interactions between her and the older kids. What I noticed made me really sad. It felt a bit large and looming as I first mulled it over in prayer. But then I got determined to take back some ground. To get back on track, as it were.

There's been a return of some of her anxious behaviors, mainly manifesting itself this time in picking at some loose cuticles and dead skin around her thumbnails. Her poor little thumbs are just about raw. She's been obsessing about a couple things, and has been really really adamant about her favorite routines/rituals (like bed time or pre-school drop-offs).  She's also fallen into the habit of yelling "WHAT?" when we speak to her. Sometimes it's kind of funny, especially when she scrunches her little nose and is trying to concentrate on what she thinks she just heard. But the more I observe these (and other) behaviors, the more I'm realizing that we have got to be modeling the tenets of a good listening and communicating environment for her in more tangible and simple ways.

It's not surprising to me that these things are coming to the surface this month. I know that practically speaking, we just wrapped up an incredibly busy holiday season and every kid reacts to the changes and irregularities with similar behaviors. I also know that the older kids have been battling some selfish behaviors and egocentric attitudes that have made the dynamics between all of them very difficult.  Throw in a little cabin fever, a head cold or two, a lingering virus and two teens who can't really chew real food yet but are all the same just  positively rammy with hunger and let's just say that January hasn't been my favorite month.

All that being said, I must also say this:  It is no coincidence to me that it's all coming to the surface in the midst of this intentional season of prayer and fasting for The Gang and our church. Granted, I'm a little slow on the uptake, having only come to this ability to articulate the "ick factor" here in the house as recently as Saturday evening.  (Yes, I know, we've been fasting and praying since the 10th. I told ya, I'm a little slow!)

I know this stuff in my head. In fact, I could have even told The Boss that we should be geared up to expect some behavioral and spiritual battles early in the month. But I never followed up on the thought, nor on the preparations in my own heart and mind.  I regret that now; it sure makes for a rough start to the new year!  I do feel as if I'm coming out of the fog of it all a bit. Especially on Monday - while I sitting across from Li'l E in a crowded, noisy McDon@ld's.

So, I'm forcing myself back on track. Quieter daytime environment. (Sigh. I really have to go back to using my iPod mainly during naptime, I guess.) Re-directing and re-phrasing. Girding myself up for more consistent reminders to speak nicely to one another. And to do it IN THE SAME ROOM. Pulling out the big guns of serving one another for consequences of disrespectful or unloving behavior. Making mediation of their differences include reconciliation and repentance. Assigning extra jobs to those who can't get themselves back on track with my lead. (Counting to ten before yelling myself. Ugh.) 

If nothing else, the quieter more peaceful environment will return soon because certain little Gang members will be plumb tuckered out from all the jobs that they reap from sowing their seeds of dissension. And I'll have a clean house, to boot!

You Gonna Fix That?

Recently we bumped into someone with whom we had a bare acquaintance years ago. He was flabbergasted to see that we now have five kids

"Dude, that's crazy! What, are you like the Duggars?"

AND that we had adopted.

"Is she Ch!nese from Ch!na?"

"Yeah, I've heard those Ch!nese just don't want their girls at all."

and "How long did THAT take you?"
"I've heard it's like forever for those kids."

and my personal favorite: "They don't really want all those kids there anyway, so why the big deal?"

At which point he launched into a semi-political rant about the US owing Ch!na so much and Ch!na owning the US someday and economics and something about the big, bad, terrible C*mmunist machine...

Yes, he really did. He DID.

And so, after only 2 minutes of conversation with him, I'd already had it. I'm not proud of this, but with a little bit of me that wanted to just wig him out a little bit more, I sweetly smiled and explained that our process really didn't take all that long because we opted to pursue a special needs adoption. I almost grinned at his totally predictable response.  Gape-jawed, he was looking over at her to see if he could find any obvious signs of "NEEEEEDS."

I repent. I was snarky. Please, don't judge me.

HA! She was laughing and playing happily with her sister, talking a mile a minute and acting like a totally "normal" three-year old. Well, a three-year old badly in need of a nap, anyway.

"Really? What's wrong with her?"

By way of background, please understand, none of his comments were said kindly. He doesn't "do" kindly. But by then I was feeling a teensy bit badly about my snarky intents, so I nicely explained that she is deaf in her right ear as a result of microtia. At his blank look (and I admit, to ward off further offensive commentary) I gave a brief explanation of what that looked like in real life for her. You know, the deformity of the ear and the lack of an ear canal. And I stopped there.

"So. You gonna fix that for her?"

"You know, make it look more normal, like a regular ear?"

At this juncture, I knew it was pointless to continue this conversation. I knew that he didn't really care that her speech was "normal" and that her hearing ear is able to receive sounds "normally." Or that she was beautiful, inside and out and had more drive and more passion and more LIFE in her little bitty pinky finger than he did in his whole critical, judgmental, narrow-minded self. He just didn't.

And I knew this not just because I've known him since he was a clueless, narrow-minded 20-something, eons ago. (I know, weren't we all?! To some degree or another, I'm sure I was.) But because he had his child with him.  A sweet, adorable, shy little child who had an obvious physical struggle going on. However temporary, that physical difficulty was OBVIOUSLY not sitting well with daddy. We never asked about it, but dad offered. In sharp tones of frustration mixed with denial and a touch of disbelief at its very existence.

I fully admit that I might have been assuming a lot at that particular observation. But watching the sweet, tender little person gauge dad's disapproving, harsh tone and react accordingly?  I don't think so.

So I guess the real question was for that dad.

You gonna fix that?

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. . .

She's Got Skillz!

"School" has been a big topic of conversation around The Gang's house recently. The older boys are mentally gearing up for another year of home-study via their individual cyber schools. The middle two kids are anxiously awaiting news of their homeroom assignments and what changes have been made in their little elementary building around the corner. And Li'l Empress has recently been introduced to the little school and new teacher at the pre-school she'll be attending this fall.

Pre-school is such an out-of-the-box idea for our family. We never sent any of the other kids to pre-school settings, beyond the occasional child-care environment at our old home-schooling co-op and kids' classes on Sundays at church. Not that I have anything personally against pre-school - we were just not willing to pay for it, we never "NEEDED" it, and I was quite content to extend their time at home in our own environment for as long as possible.

In fact, I didn't even send my older kids to kindergarten. I home-schooled them for that year, mostly to avoid the complication of the half-day schedule and the interruption to our daily groove. There was always another baby or toddler in the house, nap times to consider; and down-time for little ones, for as long as they can enjoy it, is really important to me. The constant watching of the clock, the rush to catch the bus or be home in time to get little Johnny off the bus: it just was not for me in that season of our family life - and I didn't want to introduce the pressures of that kind of crunch to my kids until I had to. I liked having my little ones home at this stage of learning. I enjoyed teaching kindergarten.  I loved that whatever ages were also home at the time could also participate in the fun. I MOST ESPECIALLY LOVED that I still got a nice, mostly uninterrupted quiet time/nap for everyone the majority of those extra days at home. (I'm a big fan of sleeping kids!)

But with Li'l Empress, things are quite different. In addition to the fact that she's a smart as a whip and really ready, mentally and academically, for the challenge and the intrigue of a classroom setting, we have some other factors that must be considered. Factors that I've been researching, talking through with her Speech and Language therapist, and praying about with The Boss for many months now.

Stay tuned for Part 2 of "She's Got Skillz!" - or a momma's first venture into the world of pre-school. . . 

Age Appropriate

Yesterday, Li'l Empress played with an Occupational Therapist as part of the yearly evals by our county's Early Intervention service. It was the third or fourth evaluation in the last two weeks, between EI's different therapists and her regular audiology check-ups. I'm amazed at Li'l Empress' capacity to put up with the "performing monkey" stuff that comes with all these appointments lately!

After I finished up the interview portion of the evaluation, the OT got down on the floor with Li'l Empress to to put her through her paces. Gross motor skills, fine motor skills, spatial relations, the whole gamut was on full display. It was really fun to see how far she's come, as I remembered the various delays she had to work through when she first came home. As an observer, I feel good about the accuracy of the eval and the progress that I can see she's gained. Having it marked in "months" notation was helpful. There were a couple areas that we should more intentionally introduce and press, but the thing that struck me was the repeated emphasis on the milestone of potty training.

And by repeated, I mean, "Enough already, I know.
You think she should have started potty training months ago, I get it!"

Now, I've always taken a fairly laid-back approach to potty training with my older kids. A huge part of my approach is that I really would preferred that they be ready, that they own it, and that they feel a measure of success in their attempts. And selfishly, I don't mind admitting that I also know it's less work and frustration for all of us if they do achieve success early in the trying. So I don't mind waiting a bit.

For example, Baby BlueEyes was a month away from being three and I just knew he'd knock it out of the park if I tackled training while all the older sibs were still home for summer break. We made it a whole family event. I was right: he was "on it" - done, dry, and ready to go (mostly) on his own within a week or two. That little potty seat went everywhere with us. The older boys hoisted him up on their shoulders when he succeeded and had a special song they sang for him every time he got it right. It was fun for them all, as I was very generous with the M&M rewards. He earned a huge amount of confidence, and the boys felt pretty good about themselves and the role they played. Added bonus :)

When the OT told me that at 30 months, Li'l Empress was not yet "age appropriate" in the area of self-care and responsibility simply because she had not even attempted potty training, it took everything in me not to give my little spiel. I mean, I know this is her job, this is her life and she's immersed in developmental milestones and all. I greatly appreciate the OT's skills and knowledge. I do, really. But from a Momma's perspective, from the heart of one who knows her girl better than any evaluator could: can we have a little context please? Can we look at the whole picture of Li'l Empress' life and growth to today's singular moment of evaluation? Could we take a step back and recognize all that Li'l Empress has accomplished and all the areas in which she is scoring well above the "age appropriate" targets?

(PLEASE, it's not that the evaluator was suggesting a problem or wasn't appreciative of the "big picture of Li'l Empress' life - although she didn't really even ask about her delays or life experience to this point. I had to offer the information. Context. You get me? That's the point of this post. This is my thought process in the midst of the evaluation.)

So I did what any good Momma needs to do in a moment like that: I gave myself context. I know that every kid is different. All four of my older kids had vastly different potty training experiences and varying levels of success. Bigger than that, within our extended family there has been a wide range of ages, starts and re-starts, regressions, and successes. And even bigger than that, as my good friend M told me last night, many children who have been adopted have a wide range of responses to the readiness and the process of potty training.

That concept of context is a big one in parenting, isn't it? Truthfully, it's been bigger than ever since we jumped into the world of special needs adoption. It's why I've often said that I feel like I went back to school once we received Li'l Empress' referral back in July '08.

Understanding microtia, atresia, and unilateral hearing loss.
Researching secure attachment and healthy bonding.
Studying what a good listening environment really looks like.
Practicing how to improve our home to be that good listening environment.
And more, so much more!

All of this requires that I learn context. Occasionally, context feels as if it's purposely eluding me. Other times, I am confident that I'm really getting a grip on it manner that allows Li'l Empress to grow, even flourish. To step out in new skills and milestones with confidence. It's a balancing act that I'm sure moms of other special needs kids can well identify with. It requires a delicate balance of stepping out and holding steady. It requires a deep breath and that internal conversation of "it's okay - she's not there yet, but she's getting there." And "she's got all this other stuff she's overcome and surpassed for her age, this will come too." I gave myself context.

Yesterday, I had an evaluation, too. And I am proud to say that I think I am age appropriate in the parenting milestone of context.

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.