Merry & Bright then Puny & Green.

I just gotta do my traditional post-holiday write-up. Nothing dramatic, no crazy twist... it's just that, you know, over the years and a million pictures later the memories start to blur and fade and before you know it, those precious memories are buried or worse.

When Nathan and I started dating almost FIFTEEN YEARS ago (Lawd.), Christmas was kinda not fun. Pieces of it were, but we literally went 19 different places in just a few days. Always leaving early, arriving late. It was ridiculously stressful and just not fun. The idea of trying to continue that kind of schedule as our family grew in the future was overwhelming. Luckily, our families get that and we've all managed to reduce/combine where possible. Now four kids later, our Christmas schedule is actually very manageable AND enjoyable.

This was a GREAT year to be parents to my kids- such fun ages! The three oldest are old enough to get it, to appreciate it, to be over-the-top excited about it, ever so Christmasly.

Gonna share a few of my favorite moments and leave out a couple less favorable ones. Like the EPIC meltdown I had Christmas morning for absolutely no reason. Well, maybe exhaustion. And the disaster that was our one attempt at a family photo. But let's focus on the good!

The 21st :  We're going to Disney!
(Forgot my camera.)

The 22nd:

Brynn got her first American Girl doll! And she never saw it coming :)

All kinds of blurry, but look how excited she was opening her Little People farm!

The 24th:

 One of my favorite traditions is that the kids draw names and choose a ($5) gift for a sibling. Look at these two helping AG unwrap... such sweet sisters.

I promised Aunt Paige I would post my column that came out on Christmas Eve, since she missed it. So for her, and others:

"COLORING OUTSIDE THE LINES: Carly, you’re fired.

I’m kind of an over-achieving mom. The kind that hits the ground running with homemade pancakes, little notes in the lunchbox, and themed movie nights at home. I plan over-the-top birthday parties down to the last detail. I create costumes out of nothing to put on a living room talent show. But there is one area of parenting where I just cannot seem to get it together… THE UGLY WORD ELF ON A SHELF.

I got sucked in when my twins were in kindergarten. It seemed easy and cute and another way to be creative. Here’s what I didn’t consider when our elf, Carly, first showed up… I’M EXHAUSTED.

I pin lots of cool ideas (because that’s part of the gig- pinning other people’s cool ideas) and set a reminder on my phone; and yet, I fall asleep nearly every night with Carly still frozen in last night’s lame attempt to convince our children she had gone to the North Pole while they slept and then came back. Six out of seven days a week I jolt out of bed, shove the darn elf under my shirt and fling her to another spot out of sight. Carly is not creative or masterful, she is rarely mischievous, or even useful. Carly is EXHAUSTED.

Occasionally, Carly scrapes up the energy to dump some stuff on the counter or write on the mirror with dry erase markers. Once, I woke up in the middle of the night and shoved my husband out of bed to attend to the elf. Husband, “Okay… how do you spell ‘nutcracker’?” (Remember… it’s the middle of the night and we were both sleeping.). “Honey… nut and cracker.”

Husband, “Okay… how do you spell ‘cracker’?”  EXHAUSTED.

Now that it’s Christmas Eve, Carly’s “job” is done. I will be sending a letter back to the North Pole for her boss that recommends Carly take a permanent leave of absence. She need not return next year. Clearly, the gal could use a break. I feel fairly certain St.Nick will take my recommendation and consider it very seriously. For about 335 days. And then Carly will join us again because she’s an over-achiever. And I shall greet her with pancakes." 

And what do you know... for Carly's grande Christmas Eve finale, she forgot to go back to the North Pole completely. She just sat there in the same spot she'd been sitting for days. The kiddos guessed she just wasn't ready to leave our family. I'm sure that's it.

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The 25th! My absolute favorite section of hours out of the whole year! Cale came down for the first time at 3:00a. And every 30 mins after that. After 4:30a, I finally told him to get in the bed with us and I would let him know when he could get up. I told the girls they could come down any time after 5:30. They came at 5:31. Normally, Nathan goes upstairs to get Anna Gray so they can all come down together and I can capture their faces on camera (so much love that part). Since Layla is bigger, I suggested she bring down the baby this year. That way, Nathan can see their faces light up too. Magical, right?

When I heard them coming, I reminded Cale not to push anyone out of his way. He didn't care for that reminder, so his face did not look magical when I took his picture. Layla's did. Same big classic Layla smile every year! Except she was carrying Anna Gray... backwards, with her shirt shoved up and her crack showing. I'm pretty sure Brynn had the magical face too, but Nathan walked right in front of the camera when she came down, so the picture is of her ponytail and a bit of Nathan's belly sticking out of his shirt. Magical.

One of Cale's presents was a note from Santa. 

Reading... asking me to read Santa's awful handwriting... "One of your gifts didn't fit down the chimney. Look out the back door."... MY GOAL!... and he was gone.

At our house, Santa wraps the gifts but none are labeled. The littles open their stockings first, and a piece of paper at the bottom of their stockings reveals which gifts are their's. This one had both Brynn and Layla's paper on it.

I love their faces! 

With Christmas over, we planned a day to sit down and play. And it lasted exactly 24 hours.
And then the darkness came.

In the form of the super-bug that wiped out nearly our entire family.
AWFUL.

Brynn had a touch, but her stomach is tough as nails (like the rest of her).
I was victim #2. And I wanted to die.
I bleached and breathed for about 36 hours, thought we were in the clear...

Then Anna Gray woke up Monday morning and said "No waffle."
She sat her cup on the table and laid in the middle of the floor. Bless it.

It was all downhill from there.

I remember when she was sick a year ago and it was so hard to see her so pitiful and her not be able to tell me what was wrong. This time she kept saying, "Anna Gray hurt", "sad", "coooold" and signing "sick" over and over. HEARTBREAKING.

When Nathan walked in the door from work, his first words were "Get me the bowl."
THE bowl.

I didn't take any pictures of him laid up because I didn't think they were as precious as the baby's for some reason.

I was surprised to see him gone to work when I woke up this morning, but grateful he was out of the woods. Then the dog starting puking. The dog.
Heaven help me, I am over it.

I have bleached, bleached, and re-bleached. I bleached every surface of this house. I bleached the doorknobs and the light switches, and the baby gates. I even bleached the bleach, just in case.

We are bummed that we had to cancel our NYE plans at our house (I did not want to be responsible for sharing.), but happy to be starting the new year off well!!

2014 is gonna be a good one, folks!

Here comes Christmas...

Man, time flies.
The last month has been busy as always, but GOOD.

Memphis made a difference. It's not like my kids stopped and said, "Gee, Mom. I feel a little better. Thanks for that."

Brynn, who is normally very independent and lives in her own sassy world, has been very attached- asking for snuggle time, wrapping her arms all the way around with doses and doses of "I love you more than anything.". Very, very sweet. More than her actions, you can just tell that the load she is carrying is a little bit lighter right now. She acts like a girl in love. Not that anything that happened in Memphis was world-changing so to speak, but it was just enough to get her through that tough spot and she obviously feels less conflicted for the time being.

It took Cale a little longer. We still had a few rough spots in the week or so after Memphis. He was still testing to see if he acted ugly enough or said just the most terrible things- would we go away? We didn't. Now his rages are more few and far between, he regulates easier. Things that were setting him off, he is breezing by. When he is in that place, he is a gem. Best kid on earth. We hear him repeating mantras and affirmations that have been repeated to him. Even his prayers have changed. You learn a lot about someone when they let you listen to their prayers.

Things are just really GOOD right now. Belly laugh good. Most days! It is Christmas-time afterall. I love that they are all about giving away their toys and wrote letters to Santa asking him to skip our house and give to someone who needs it more... but don't want to share with their siblings? KIDS!

Nathan made it home in time for Thanksgiving- but that seems like a million years ago now. Despite the fact that Nathan whistles Christmas tunes year round, I'm kind of stickler for the transition occurring after all the Thanksgivings. So December 1st is our day, or at least our goal. This year, it fell on a Sunday so that seemed like the perfect time to shift into Christmas gear.

EVERY YEAR, I get giggly with the anticipation of cocoa and carols and twinkling lights and rosey cheeks (because if you have all the others, rosey cheeks are a given). And EVERY YEAR, when all is said and done... I need a beverage and an aspirin.

Again this year, December 1st comes and I am definitely ready to shift gears and I'm giggly with anticipation. Cocoa was on the stove, the Hanukkah station was on Sirius, Polar Express was on the tv, and pink was on Nathan's cheeks... because he was doing all the work. I did mostly nothing to contribute. I didn't try to manage or make anything perfect. I didn't tell the kids where to put their ornaments or to turn off Disney XD and get back to the regularly scheduled program. And when ornaments broke, the lights didn't work, and Polar Express turned to yet another episode of Jessie, I did nothing. Maybe missing that hint of Christmas magic, but also missing stress. I'll take it. Side note: Walker only eats the ornaments that have Layla's face on them. I'm not sure if that means he likes her the most or the least? Weird.

Last week's snow day gave us a nudge into magical territory. We actually woke up to a couple of inches in our yard, the kids were dressed and out the door before breakfast. We had peppermint ice cream in our hot chocolate, the Grinch, and a Christmas tree re-do. Magic :)

No broken ornaments on this tree!

We've already kicked off our season with a few Christmas gatherings and the girls' performances in The Nutcracker. So proud of both of my dancers!

HERE COMES CHRISTMAS!!

Adoption Part 2: Memphis

We are designed to be connected to the people who give us life. We are literally born attached, already bonded.

All adoption begins with a tremendous loss. No matter the details.

There is so much more to say about C's behavior regarding his adoption. First, understand that 90%  of the time, he is charming and thoughtful and hilarious. But when he struggles, he struggles big. 1000% of the time it stems from him feeling like he has no control. Wording things differently and making him at least feel in control can go a long way.


This is not how Brynn processes her feelings at all.
My high-spirited, giggly girl can turn into a puddle of tears at the drop of a hat. It's heartbreaking.

What's #1 on her Christmas list? Her first mom.
What does she want as a reward for a job well done at her MRI? Her first mom.

We've written letters, we've drawn pictures, we've done art therapy and play therapy and real therapy- but none of it takes the place of the one things she wants. And we can't give it to her.

The second I say, "Brynnie, I wish I could..." she erupts into tears. Big, fat sobbing tears.

"Can you please just get me closer??!!"

That, I can do. That's why we loaded up the car and drove to Memphis this weekend. The timing was not great, we had to cancel plans, and miss important things, but this child... these children... needed to be closer. 

We made the four hour drive with very few plans in mind- trying to let the two of them lead us. This was not our typical free-spirited adventure kind of trip. It was heavy and hard. Very, very hard. For all of us.
Emotions ran high for the full 48 hours. Lots of questions, lots of outbursts, lots of silence.

I noticed that the two of them gravitated toward one another often- NOT normal for these two.

We were grasping at straws to find ways (big, little, anything) for them to feel connected to their beginning.
The most pivotal moment ended up being a trip to the hospital where they were born. They were really torn on whether or not they wanted to go (she did, he didn't). We agreed to just get there and see what happened.

They stayed outside for a long time, before agreeing to walk in.

Gonna keep the details for ourselves, but it was TOUGH. We didn't even get very far, they were done.

{Side note: I could not have made it through this weekend without Layla. She was there to be whatever they/I needed her to be and she was my nine-year-old saving grace. When we came out of the hospital, I was holding them- she had Anna Gray, the diaper bag, and the camera. I am so so grateful she took these pics and so so so grateful for her existence.}

After that, we went to the Children's Museum- perfect way to end two days of hard.
The mood shifted, the air was lighter. They smiled and had fun!

{Signing "airplane"}

As weekends go- this one was kind of awful.
There was picking and fighting. They were tired and argumentative. It rained on us. Anna Gray screamed for hours on end in the hotel room. We ruined everyone's peaceful, quiet Sunday morning breakfast at Panera. We didn't make it to church. I was tired and frustrated and emotional.
But IT'S NOT ABOUT ME.

It didn't change things instantly, their hearts aren't healed, they have no more peace than they had on Friday. Not yet. But hopefully, someday they will remember that we tried. That, together, we did everything we could to find it. That it's okay to be hurt and sad over one family and happy and secure with their other. That they trust me to hear their feelings and hold them safe. That they are unabashedly loved without a doubt. Someday.

Two more things:

1) Children who were adopted will likely need to grieve at each new developmental stage. That's why these emotions are relatively new and different. They will probably change again and again and again.

2) I won't be writing a piece on Anna Gray's adoption anytime soon, as her's is different. Not because she was adopted internationally and not because she has Down Syndrome- because she's TWO. She will work thru her story in her own time in her own way. And we will be right there beside her when she does.

On to November: Adoption Part 1

Yesterday, I promised to expand on Cale's unprompted affection after the last-minute-throw-together-Halloween-Bash, and why that was a big deal.

We have recently been through a rough patch with our little buddy. It comes and goes and is about as predictable as the weather (sometimes you have a pretty good idea that it's coming, sometimes your guess is completely off.) When it started this time, we didn't see it coming.

In hindsight, we should have. But it came on hard and strong. A Cale tsunami.
The aftermath shows a path of destruction with many casualties. Pride, humility, peace, happiness, assurance, confidence... all gone or severely damaged. There are physical and emotional injuries and PTSD when you close your eyes to try to sleep at night. Only the strong survive.

If it sounds like I'm being dramatic, then I'm doing a decent job of describing it well.

It's awful, folks.
It's awful and confusing.
When it starts, you are armed and knowledgeable, but as it beats you down you become weak and weary. Your shield crumbles and you get hurt.
WHY?
Where does it come from? What started it? What are we doing wrong? Will we ever be enough?

We are a couple weeks out from it now and back in a place of understanding and hopefulness, but still trying constantly to build back so that we are prepared, should the tsunami strike again. Education = Armor.

Low and behold, a magazine landed in our mailbox with an article addressing just this type of storm. Oh... Hey, God. Good to hear from you. Again.

I wanted to type out the whole very, very long article right here. No part of it is disposable.
November is Adoption Awareness month and this piece is so.very.relevant. To us, to any member of the adoption triad, to professionals, and just you regular folks who want to understand other regular folks. However, since it is very very long- I'm going to try to condense it, without losing anything too valuable.

NONE OF THESE WORDS ARE MY OWN.
I am literally copying the words from the article, verbatim.
It's actually a Q&A from Lifelines magazine.

Please try to hang in there for the whole thing.

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Fight, Flight, or Freeze
Q: There are times when my child seems to "flip out" for no reason. Something happens that shouldn't be a big deal- like a door slamming- but my child reacts like it's a major problem. Can you help me understand what might be going on?

A: (from Juli Alvarado, Trauma-Informed Care Educator, Author, and Practitioner. Bolded and italicized words in response are not mine. RED EMPHASES ARE MINE. )

"It's a common human response: One second all is well as we are resting in bed... but with the slamming of a door, we immediately switch gears, searching the environment for a threat. We involuntarily kick into fight, flight, or freeze mode to protect ourselves. We defend ourselves, we run away, or we become paralyzed in the face of danger."

"This type of response occurs even when there is no real threat- such as a slamming door- and it happens when there is real danger, such as an abuser entering the room. Our initial response to a perceived threat is an unconscious, protective reaction that stems from deep within the brain and is designed to protect us."

"Children who have been adopted and have experienced the trauma of separation from their biological (parents)... become "stuck" in this protective mode at the slightest hint of danger. At times, children quickly enter the state of flight, flight, or freeze even when there is no visible threat or demand. This phenomenon stems from the earliest history of broken attachment."

"The human brain is user-dependent- the repetition of experiences strengthens pathways in the brain. The earlier the experience, the more deeply that experience is ingrained in the brain. Thus, early experiences have a disproportionate impact on how the brain will function for the individual's lifetime. Adopted children will enter states of fight, flight, or freeze easily and often when there is any perceived event that feels threatening."

"Many adopted children-even from birth- prefer to be alone, avoid family interactions, and may be perceived as defiant when, in fact, they are doing the best they can do to calm themselves.
Another common reaction from our children is anger or aggression. You may ask a simple question... the question evokes a fear response. The coversation begins to escalate, fear takes over, and your son is kicked into fight mode as he yells at you. In response, we parents often escalate the situation and fight back, only adding fuel to the fire."

"The problem is your child reacts to simple questions or commands as if they are attacks. A child with an overactive stress system becomes hyper vigilant and is prone to fight, flight, or freeze the instead he feels a threat. The part of the brain that should help him determine whether or not the threat is real becomes hijacked by the more primitive part of the brain, and the child is literally incapable of calming himself down."

"Our children are often completely unaware of why they respond this way and are unable to correct the behavior on their own. As parents working to heal trauma, it becomes necessary for us to focus not on the child's behaviors, but on the fear, stress, and other factors that underlie the child's behavior, as well as our response to the behavior."

"Learning your child's language of fear will provide the space for you child to learn your language of love. Fear and love do not coexist. Your calm, constant, trauma-informed love will, over time, diminish your child's fear."
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She then goes on to list several tips for parenting strategies and creating a healing environment.

Shew.
It's a lot, no?
But it is SO important to recognize that the Cale-tsunami is not made of anger and desctruction, it's made of fear and loss. A whirling, twirling, encompassing storm of FEAR and LOSS.

Truth?
I think this is how our little guy ended up with an autism diagnosis. I do not think he is actually on the autism spectrum. 

There, I said it. It was the label given to him, and we needed something- anything at that point- to get him the help he needed. Because he (we) did need the help. He definitely had some developmental delays and one of those was speech- which meant the storms REALLY came out of nowhere because he didn't have the words to tell us about the storm going on inside of him.


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TO BE CONTINUED...
And my Coloring Outside the Lines column will touch on it as well, that will be out Nov 19th. Local friends, our family is also being featured in The Connection this week and next for Adoption Awareness Month.

October: CHECK

October was a wild ride.
A quick recap of the big events, and then I will get started on posting on the stuff in my head. It's a lot.

For those that don't know, I am now writing a monthly column in a local paper called Coloring Outside the Lines. Since October was Down Syndrome Awareness month, this month's column focused on just that.

"Something Extra

In early 2012, my husband and I adopted our fourth child. We had fallen in love with a picture of a precious, pink little girl with round cheeks, tons of hair, and Down Syndrome.

We really didn’t know much about Down Syndrome at all, only that she was ours and we were hers.

During our adoption process, so many people struggled to understand why we would intentionally choose this life. Wouldn’t it be hard? Did we not understand how stressful it would be?

In the year and half since she’s been home with us, we’ve learned a lot about what Trisomy 21 (an extra copy of the 21st chromosome, usually called ‘Down Syndrome’) is and what it isn’t.

Is it hard? Sometimes. 

It’s not hard to just LIVE with Down Syndrome or raise someone who does. The hard parts come in trying to teach her to drink from a straw, buying ten different kinds of cups, trying twelve different kinds of beverages and NOTHING makes her want to wrap her lips around that tiny tube and suck the drink upward. Until she does. And then we celebrate, HARD.

Is it stressful? Sometimes. Of course, it isn’t stressful to just BE a person with Down Syndrome or love someone who happens to have it. Making time for early intervention and physical therapy, occupational therapy, speech therapy, and doctor appointments can be stressful. But when she uses all her might, every ounce of gusto she has, and finally stands up after trying for years ... Well, I just can’t STRESS enough how exhilarating it is.

Sure, some things are harder for her … but not all things. She might do things a little later than normal, but she will do them. She might have to work harder or use extra tools to accomplish a task, but she will accomplish it. My daughter is not disabled. She is differently-abled, but she is able.

She really is more like other children than she is different. Like most two year olds, she is inquisitive, determined, hilarious, and a little bit sassy. We practice counting, colors, and animal sounds. She loves Elmo, swinging at the park, and does a mean version of “Twinkle, Twinkle”.  She has big blue eyes, pink pouty lips, and Rapunzel-like golden hair.

Jimmy Johnson, American coach and broadcaster, said, “The difference between ordinary and extraordinary is that little extra.”

My daughter has Down Syndrome. I hope when people look at her, they see a rockin’ version of “Twinkle, Twinkle”, her golden hair, and yes, something extra."

October also brings us the Buddy Walk!

It was cold and rainy and we honestly were not prepared for either! On the positive side, we had family and friends show up in support of our Annie Sunshine and raising awareness. We saw some other friends and  met some new ones. And we had Jason's Deli. You know, for Down Syndrome. That's how passionate we are.

While the weather for Buddy Walk was not ideal, the weather for the Pumpkin Run was PERFECT.

And of course, the highlight of October: HALLOWEEN

^ My sweet Rockford Peaches!^

And Little Peach who is WAY too wiggly to stay in one spot long enough for a picture these days.

We had the most fun with this. We scoured Goodwill for weeks finding pink button ups that would fit each girl, well enough. We hunted down red belts and red hats and baseball socks. We tea-stained Cale's old baseball pants and a plain white tee shirt. A little felt and puff paint and voila! I know we could have done much more if I could flipping learn to sew already, but we were pretty thrilled with how they came out!

Proud parents, Johnny and June:

Grin. We had not planned on dressing up (though we love it- we didn't think we'd have time), so we literally put together whatever we had in our closet. Since Halloween weather was predicted to be pretty nasty, we (all the parents of the children) ended up throwing an impromptu party instead of actually trick-or-treating (which AG learned to say by the way! Also, when did that phrase become a verb, I wonder?).

They did the donut/string thing, and mummy wrap, and bobbed for apples- all hilarious. And then they trick-or-treated (the verb) different bedrooms- funny in a redneck way. The next morning, Cale wrapped his precious little arms around me and thanked me for the "best party ever". I'll write more on that later, but for now it confirmed that despite yucky weather, they still had a blast. Not bad for a 24 hour prep :)

On to the next!