A Fall/Winter/Spring Photo Recap...Because I Haven't Blogged in a Million Years

This has been the longest winter in the history of winters.  Ever.  It snowed every month from November to April, and that is a lot of snow for this Southern girl!  I kept hoping the thermostat would get above 12 degrees and spring would arrive.  It took it's sweet little time, but it finally did. 

And you would think that all that indoor time would allow me to clean my house or blog or write a novel or something awesome, but all I wanted to do was curl up under three blankets and binge-watch television shows on the computer.  So that's mostly what I did.  Except when I was working on my graduate classes.  Or when the kids were home for snow days.  Which was a lot.  Really. On those days we spent a lot of time at the library.  I think the kids have read through every Peanuts and Garfield comic ever written.  And thank you local public library for having the sense to carry such wonder things in very large books.

So, what have I missed blogging about on the 182 days of snow? Everything.

1. Kate became an expert bike rider last fall, but I didn't manage to get a decent picture of it until November.  Because I am that awesome.

2. Kate's first grade class studied Chinese New Year and performed a ribbon dance for the whole school.  She was amazing, of course.

 3. My kids love each other, even when they are fighting like cats and dogs.  Unfortunately the cats and dogs thing is more common than not.  Thankfully I caught them on a day when they were all getting along.  (I am sure someone got whacked on the head minutes after I put the camera away.)

4. Did I mention it snowed a lot?  This was one of the early days before we actually got bored with snow.

5.  The three bigs were in the church Christmas play.  They sang together as a trio and were 1940's kids who also dressed up like wise men with lampshades and hub caps.  I can't remember why.

 6. We celebrated Christmas, of course!  (I think they have already grown about 2 inches each since I took this picture.)  The favorite gifts this year were video games, puzzles, and books. 

7. In January Will told us that he had accepted Jesus as his Lord and Savior and wanted to be baptized.  We were thrilled and celebrated with him.  And Tim got to do the honors.  After which, we attempted to get a family photo, which only proved that we are not good at group shots.

8. It snowed some more. The kids built a snowman.

9. I celebrated my 20 year high school reunion.  It was awesome and weird at the same time.  That's what growing old is like.  And now you all know how old I am.  (I would post the group shot, but the photographer didn't push the button down hard enough.  I'm looking at you, Cooper.)

10.  Kate played basketball and had a blast doing it.

There is more, but for some reason the kids think I should fix dinner.  I guess they are hungry or something.  See, this is why I don't blog.  Next thing they will want clean clothes or something crazy like that.  Maybe I will write up the rest before the leaves fall off the trees.  Everyone hold your breath.

Happy Easter!

Christ is risen!

 He is risen indeed!

Jack was totally into the egg hunt this year and all about the candy!  Will and Kate of course wanted to beat each other at collecting the most eggs.  And Ben surprised me by still being really excited about finding eggs.  I don't know how much longer my pre-teen will want to do "kid" stuff, but I am thankful for days like today when we can worship and play as a family. 

Happy Christmas... Or ummm, Halloween?

Even though we have switched holidays several times, I can't continue to let the days pass without posting my kids' awesome Halloween costumes this year. 

Ben had his heart set on being Harry Potter.  He had wanted this costume for a long time.  This was the year he finally talked his dad into buying it.  He was the perfect Harry, messy hair and all.

Will really wanted to be Harry Potter too, but you can't have two Harry Potters in one family, so he decided to be a Death Eater instead.  The only problem was that they only make adult-sized Death Eater costumes.  So Will, being the creative genius that he is, found his Dad's hooded wool coat, made his own Death Eater mask with poster board, pencil (yes, he drew that himself), and glitter, and voila, Death Eater.  He and Harry battled all night.

   
Kate wasn't sure what she wanted to be.  She ended wearing a Pete the Cat costume to school for "Literature Day," but wanted a different costume for Trick-or-Treating.  When digging out the coat for Will, I came across my old black leather jacket and suggested she be one of the girl bikers from her current fave movie, Teen Beach Movie.  She said no, she wanted to be the biker gang leader, Butchy.  She came up with this costume all on her own.  Old black vest, my old sunglasses, black gloves with the fingers cut off: check, check, and check. 

Jack changed his mind 47 times before he put his costume on.  Thankfully I have a large stash of preschool dress-up clothes.  Dragon? Bob the Builder? Buzz Lightyear? Woody? He seriously considered them all before deciding on Puppy Dog. Good choice, son, even if you won't wear the hood.

And then there was Tim.  A ceiling fan.  Geddit? And notice Jack decided to be a dragon this time around, still sans hood.  Throw in a cute kitty cat and a super hero to make it a wonderful Halloween.

And for the record, when did Halloween start lasting a whole week?  Sunday they had a choir party, Wednesday was Trunk-or-Treat at church, Thursday was "Literature Day," and the actual Trick-or-Treating was postponed until Friday because of dangerously high winds.  It seriously makes for some crazy children when Halloween gets celebrated four times over the course of six days. I think it is time to scale it back, Muhrica.

Jack and the Hearing Saga

When we first saw Jack's file over a year ago, it was noted that he had severe/moderate hearing loss.  At the time we had two thoughts concerning this.  First, it was probably conductive loss related to his cleft palate.  If so, a good set of tubes might go a long way in helping him hear. (As one of Kate's doctors told me once, it is hard to hear with tapioca pudding in your ears.)  Second, even if the loss is permanent we have lots of resources to help a child with partial hearing loss.

So, we started the process and honestly did not give a lot more thought to his hearing loss. It was one of those We Will Cross That Bridge When We Come To It kinds of things.

Fast forward to last April when we met him. We had some indication that there might be loss.  For example, he is really loud.  No really. He is loud. Also, (unlike Kate, who also had moderate hearing loss) he had no connection with his Chinese name, even when spoken by people at his orphanage.  Was it because he couldn't hear or was it that they just never called him by that name?

Within a few days though, we noticed he was easily turning his head towards all sorts of sounds, and he was responding to the name Jack. This confirmed - for us anyway - that his loss was moderate at worst, not severe.

Once home our regular audiologist (#1) confirmed this for us again through a series of tests.  However, everyone and their mama thought we still needed to get a sedated ABR hearing test to further nail down the type and severity of the loss.

Remember all of the rigamaroll I went through to get the ABR?  Blech.

So in August, after his tubes were placed but before Dr. L repaired his palate, an audiologist (#2) came in and performed an ABR.  I was so confident that his hearing would come back with minor or no loss that I didn't give it a lot of thought.

Except that isn't what the report said.  The audiologist (#2) (who I had never met before) told me that Jack had moderate/severe sensori-neural loss and that he needed hearing aids immediately.  That he wasn't hearing well enough that he would ever learn to speak without aids.  Honestly, it was a punch in the gut.  I cried for quite a while before I felt ready to go back into the waiting room.  In my head I knew that this was a possibility, and I thought I was prepared for it, but the reality was a lot more painful.

Tim and I together decided we weren't ready to share this news.  Keep in mind that we were still dealing with the fact that our 2 year old was in surgery.  And for my part, I knew that I needed to get to a point where I wouldn't cry every time it was mentioned.  The last thing Jack (or I) needed was pity.  We needed resources and strength.  Jack would need the confidence to know that hearing aids would not slow him down or stop him from anything he wanted to accomplish in life.  It had to be no big deal.  And honestly I wasn't there yet.

We went in to see our regular audiologist (#1) a couple of weeks later.  Immediately, she questioned these results.  She questioned the type and severity, maintaining that Jack's loss was conductive and minimal, and she tested him again.  Over the course of the next few months she repeated those tests more times than I could count.  I carried the results to pediatricians and ENTS, looking for answers to these conflicting reports.

In the meantime, Jack was starting to talk.  He said the word ball.  Daddy. Wah (water). And one night I was putting him to bed.  It was pitch black in the room, and we were whispering to each other. He would say, "Mama," and I would say, "Jack."  Back and forth we went. And then I said, "Time to sleep, Jack." And he rolled over and went to sleep.

I know some of you are marveling that he listened to me, but I was marveling that he heard me! I whispered!

I went in to see audiologist #1 and told her, and she cried. I love that woman.

Then last month Dr. T, the international adoption doc, suggested we see her friend who is an audiologist (#3).   I had been considering a third opinion from the place this woman works anyway, so I was game.  They got us right in, and audiologist #3 did a series of tests and then says, "Jack has normal or near-normal hearing.  He does not need aids." And I cried again. I asked, "How could this other, supposedly objective test have been so wrong?"  And she explained to me how the instruments can sometimes get covered in the blood and other fluids present in a surgical situation, thereby making them inaccurate.  It wasn't anyone's fault. It just happened.

And so here I am, considering all of this.  I am extremely grateful that his hearing is fine, not only because I am a normal parent who wants their child to have normal hearing (even though I was perfectly willing and able to parent a child with hearing loss), but also because now we only have to have hearing checks a couple times a year. Which is really great, considering my recent complaints about frequent doctor appointments.

But through this process I have also thought a lot about what it would mean to have a child with something the rest of the world considers a disability.  I have given a lot of thought to parents who want their child to not be seen as a deaf child, but a child who happens to be deaf.  Do you see the distinction?  They don't want the emphasis to be on the deafness, but rather on a child who has infinite possibilities for success in his life.

This is another post without a neat bow.  I am thankful for Jack's hearing. I have twice been given the gift of a child whose hearing loss was restored.  (And twice the gift of children who have no hearing loss but severe selective hearing loss, iykwim.) I guess what I am saying is that maybe when I hear a child has a diagnosis, I will think twice before saying, "I am sorry."  Not that there isn't a time and place for I am sorry.  There is.  I just know that it wasn't something I wanted to hear. I did not want anyone pitying my son, who is one of the smartest kids I have ever met. (He is starting to recognize letters.  He is 2 and has only heard the English language for the past 8 months, 4 of which his ears were full of tapioca pudding.)  He is going to do amazing things, and it has nothing to do with how well he hears.  Next time I will be more likely to look past whatever the child has, and see the child's potential.  That is what is best for the child.  And for his mom.

Confessions of a Bad Blogger

Since I have been overwhelmed with life in the past year lately, I may have passed up a few bloggable moments.  But there are a few things I would never forget to tell you from 2012.

1. I would never forget to mention that Will learned to ride his bike this past spring.

2.  And I am sure that I remembered to post photographical evidence that we actually did spend a week at the beach with Tim's family. No?

 3. Likewise, I would never fail to blog if Kate learned to read.

4. If Ben had continued to write funny comic strips to amuse his teacher and me, I would post every single one.

5.  I am sure that if Will had visited the local newspaper office and become inspired to write his own newspaper, complete with cover story, sports section, interviews, comics, and puzzles, of course I would have told you about it!

6. I got a new camera just before Thanksgiving, but if a tall, skinny stranger tried to eat my youngest while I was messing with the settings, I am sure I would have remembered and posted a photo.

7.  I always remember to post the Annual Cousins-on-the-Stairs pic, especially if it is Jack's first one.

8. And if Kate ever won an award at school for never giving up or quitting, I would have taken the time to blog about it.

9. We didn't do anything fun like decorate gingerbread houses. And Jack-Man did not eat his house before it ever got decorated.  (Thanks again, Lilly!)

10. And of course, Jack did not fall on his face shortly before said gingerbread adventure, getting a large contusion on his forehead which is still visible more than two weeks later. 


I am also sure that the astute readers among you noticed that I still failed to mention our Christmas celebrations, but maybe I will get to that before the spring thaw. Or maybe I won't. Who knows what you will get from this bad blogger. 

Happy Birthday Kate (and Happy Kate NaNa Day too)

Many of you who hang out here already know this, but October is a big month for Kate.  Her birthday, date of abandonment, Kate NaNa Day, and her adoption day all fall within 12 days of each other.  And for those of you schooled in adoption issues, you know that means lots of different emotions crammed into a very small window.  This topic could probably be a post all of its own, but suffice it to say that she experiences excitement, grief, joy, and deep introspection - often all within about an hour.  Those of you who have witnessed a child grieve, you know they express it in many ways.  Kate is no exception. Her heart aches at the thought that she will never meet her first parents or see her foster mother again. She tells me that she misses China and wants to visit again soon.  Her feelings are valid, because it is sad to lose those things. Yet she still loves us deeply, despite (or perhaps because of) her grief and loss.  Adoption is complicated and messy and beautiful and redeeming all rolled into one big ball.  For Kate it just all comes at the same time. 

Anyway, the first of these big days comes in mid-October, when we celebrate Kate NaNa Day.  This was the four year anniversary of when we met our girl.  In our family it is a tradition that we go out to eat Chinese food, and then Tim and I give her a small gift that we bought for her in China.  This year it was a purple change purse at P.F. Chang's.

 

Ten days later her birthday (which also happens to be her date of citizenship) rolled around, and she wanted to celebrate with pizza and video games.  It was a good night for prizes. 

And last but not least, we had her birthday party the following weekend. For her party, she requested chocolate cake and Chinese dumplings.  We make the dumplings, or jiaozi, from scratch.  So with about 25 people at the party, that was a lot of dumplings.  Chinese families often make these together during celebrations, so I decided to insert some Chinese tradition into the party. Most people who attended learned to make them. I had the filling mixed and ready, and the guests helped roll, fill, crimp, and fry the dumplings. It was a huge undertaking for everyone, but it was a lot of fun and delicious.  They were a big hit.

I also managed to make my first chocolate cake from scratch.  Our family tries to buy only fair trade chocolate, but it was a challenge to find a good scratch recipe.  My aunt ended up mailing me her favorite one for a chocolate cinnamon cake, which was a big hit.  I love the icing so much it makes me want to cry.

As I was putting her to bed the night of the party, Kate told me, "That was my best party day I ever had."  I was glad, and asked her what she liked about it.  "I got a Hello Kitty alarm clock, Daddy set off firecrackers, and I got to eat my dumplings."  Add a lot of friends and family to that equation, and it really was a wonderful day.

Kate,
I love you sweet girl, and I love being your mama.  I am glad you have a tender heart and process everything deeply. It is such a wonderful part of who you are and how you care about other people.  You are a joy to parent, and I can't wait to see all of the amazing things you will do with your life.  And if you really do move back to China when you are a grown up, I will still come and visit you - probably more than you like:)

Now I Remember...

All day long I have felt like I was forgetting something.  I have been wracking my brain.  Appointment? No.  Phone calls that need to be made? Made them and still didn't shake it.  Soccer game? Not until Saturday.

Just now I got an email from a family waiting for their TA so they can go get their little boy.  They asked me a timeline question, so I hopped over here to my blog, where my adoption timeline still lives down there in the bottom right-hand column.

And there it was.  On September 27, 2011, I got an email with FW: Adam: Su, Yin Tao in the subject line.  And I knew.  I knew it was a kid from Suzhou.  I knew it was my son.  I opened up the email and saw this face:

It was 5 o'clock in the afternoon.  Everyone was headed home for the afternoon.  Within an hour I had left a frantic message on the voicemail of our agency rep, called the agency that sent me the email (different from our agency) and left them a message, and called my husband. Within 24 hours I had found his finding ad online with another picture and had consulted with an SLP, a pediatrician, and an audiologist.  Of course, it took until October 3 before we were able to lock him in.  But on September 27, 2012, I knew. 

Jack, I am so glad that God directed our steps to you.  You bring our family so much joy.  I love you more every day. 

Because they will outgrow these before the end of winter...