My Birthday Present

We're just over a month into our new family ventures, and already we have established a hint of normalcy. Just a hint though….because it is an absolute madhouse here. Not just most days, but every day. Even when the kids are in bed. Madhouse. However, the boys seem to fit right in with the ebb and flow of our daily routines. Well, we think they are fitting in...but I'm sure they wonder what all the fuss is about when I have a panic attack and pass out each time they make a move from the table with dirty hands.

The middle sis is really coming in handy. If she's not leading them by her example, she's doing so with explicit and precise instructions. In a tone that is all too familiar to Keith…as well as my former students. Still, like siblings who have been together from the beginning, they are quick to publicize, though few they are, her every infraction.

I knew it was inevitable, but have already I added the title of “Referee” to my Motherhood resume. We are not able to make it downstairs in the morning without my having to set up boundary lines with objects, put someone in Time Out or physically restrain or remove a child from any given location. The honeymoon is definitely over for these 3.

After the kids’ “rest time” yesterday, which is never that for me, I had to clean up 3 sets of urine and rescue a child who had fallen in the toilet after slipping on the urine of a sibling.

I know what you’re thinking. Yes, I did pick up a child who was covered literally from hair to sock in pee. Um, not before grabbing a towel of course! I wouldn’t dare touch that without a thick absorbent barrier. After carefully wrapping him in the towel, I comforted and cleaned the little guy off while shooing away the laughing hyenas in the hallway.

On that subject, I nearly peed my pants one night last week when Keith put Garris in Time Out…and he actually sat in the chair the whole time, which for now is a whopping 2 minutes. No screaming, kicking or walking away. I am grateful and a little pissed that he will at least sit there for someone, even if it isn’t me.

Tomorrow is my birthday. While I make everyone around me celebrate the event for at least a month, I only made one request to Keith: a day off. Ahh. He is granting my wish and has arranged for me to spend the day with 2 of my favorite girlfriends while he and another brave soul take care of all 7 children.

I am scared.

Not scared so much of what will happen to the kids. I’ve already been informed of the day’s agenda. Krispy Kreme to get them in a great mood with all the sugar and fat of a couple dozen doughnuts…followed by dumping the kids at the gym’s child watch…then the pool and a bike ride.

I’m scared of the state in which I will find my organized house and life upon my return. Every bag, craft, snack, etc. has a particular “home” so that I can find it easily next time I want to use it. Yes, I’m that girl. Keith says he hates it but relies on me to know where everything is. Honey, it’s not my day to keep up with that tiny piece of paper you claim to have had in your hand last month.

I tried to pass on some information to him regarding food, our routine and the contents of all 18 pool bags it takes us for each trip, but he did not want to listen. So, I am relinquishing control. This is a good step for me, The Control Nazi. In the same way, he tried to give me instructions tonight…on how to fold his clothes! In 10 years of marriage, tonight was the first night I have ever asked Keith to fold his own underwear and socks. I folded every other piece of laundry during the time he balled his socks. I learned that, even though I have folded hundreds of pairs of boxers each week, because he wears at least 5 pair a day (one for each category or mood), I could have been simply tossing them into his basket of clean laundry. Hours later, I am still baffled that in all this time, I have given him neatly folded undies that he basically unfolds before putting away.

Have I mentioned our communication problem?

We have a sitter and dinner reservations for tomorrow night’s date, but I’m not sure I’ll want to come home for it.

Signature Move

Removal of possessions, withholding of privileges, and modified time outs are my go-to tools in our current no-spanking method of discipline and correction. Just the threat of not getting to watch Tangled during lunch will usually get my kids out of the pool at the first request, and only one time did a child not get to sing along with Rapunzel and Mother Gothel. If you are the parent of a child who can walk…or at least has control of his limbs, you know there are times when none of these work. None of them. And, you are left to physically restrain a child. Out of love of course. Sometimes out of your love for the child. And, sometimes out of your love for doors without holes kicked in them.

This week I have been grateful for the younger brother of my high school best friend. He was a wrestler, and a pretty good one if I remember correctly. We couldn’t walk into a room he was in without being dragged into a wrestling match with him. I eventually learned to just give in, wrestle him, put up a good fight but still be instantly defeated. Fun times they were. However, I must have subconsciously stored away some strategies I saw because I whipped out several of those moves on my children this week. I even put one of my best friends in a particular hold on my kitchen floor because she didn’t believe my story.

Um, now she does.

Monday and Tuesday these matches were so intense…and long…that I unashamedly skipped my class at the gym. Had to skip it. I was still fatigued when it was time to leave my house an hour after I had declared victory one day. As if I could be defeated. No. Mommy always wins. Always.

My side of our bedroom has become a holding place for nearly all of this child’s belongings, including his entire wardrobe. Each time he asks for something, for instance a pair of undies or an electric train, we remind him of the broken rule that resulted in the removal and withholding of his possessions including his favorites of the community toys.

It’s not like I had made the child go naked. Each day I gave him an allotment of clothing that included one outfit (of my choosing), one pair of undies, and one pair of PJs. I’ve used this same technique with Avery for probably 2 years. It was a little easier with her because she will only wear dresses and an occasional skirt, so a removal of just those items was enough…or just verbally restricting her options worked as well.

I will admit I felt a little like Mommy Dearest when I denied his request for new undies after our trip to the pool. As the kids change into their swim suits, each stacks his or her clothing together for me, and I leave the 3 neat stacks at the door so that when we get home they can change into dry clothes without tracking water upstairs. Clever, right? After his little pouting episode over the mysteriously missing undies, during which the other kids and I went and had lunch while he stood...naked...at the bottom of the stairs glaring at us in the kitchen, the undies were found right where he left them: inside the day’s pair of pants. While he pretended not to understand the irony of the situation...or my sarcasm over it, I have had many good laughs because of it.

After naptime today, all undies along with the rest of this child’s clothes were returned to him because he followed this one directive. If we have a replay tomorrow, he will get back his favorite shoes and silly bands.

A Notable Milestone

Last Sunday night the boys slept in their birthday suits after deciding the pajamas I laid out were not up to their newly acquired high standards. Thankfully, I was absent for most of this fiasco. All I know is what I saw when I went in for a final tuck and kiss. Ivan’s undies hung from a slat under the top bunk, and Garris’s had been tossed across the room. I let Keith keep the naked bodies in their beds, which took about an hour before they finally gave in to their exhausted post-swim state.

This of course was not our first battle of the day. Garris had refused to eat lunch because we wouldn't turn on Tangled, i.e. Rapunzel for those of you without little girls. This obsession is growing old, and I haven’t even had the chance to watch the movie from start to finish.

We quickly realized our boys were made for the water, especially Ivan. They are little fish. It is unbelievable the tricks they will do and how they get around in it. Both will do front flips into the water and swim all around with just the water wings. They’re even taking the first steps of swimming: remove water wings, jump into pool, swim back to side. Awesome! Little Ivan even dove off the diving board. Some of their bravery has even rubbed off on Avery. At 4, she will finally put her face in the water. Of course afterward, she immediately runs to dry her face on a towel. And, she’s so proud of herself, telling everyone she encounters, what an advanced swimmer she is now that she can swim with water wings alone, instead of requiring several additional floatation devices.

The boys’ English is coming along. They will repeat nearly any words and phrases but don’t always use them in the appropriate context later. Right now I’m a tiny bit grateful they do not speak fluently because they would for sure turn Avery against us as well. Our teams (Us versus Them) will be outnumbered by the end of the year I’m sure. Avery is actually using some Amharic…and possibly in situations to embarrass me on purpose. While the boys will tell me they need “to go potty,” Avery says “shinti” and “caca” for pee and poop. She orders around her brothers, including Simon, saying, “Takamet!” which means “sit.” Or, she reprimands someone with, “Atincow” instead of “Do not touch.” And many more that sound ridiculous coming from her little assertive mouth.

During one 24-hour period last week, I changed 4 sets of sheets and every piece of the coordinating bed covering. We’ve had so many recent accidents that I haven’t always had time to wash and dry set 1 before set 2 has been soaked. We’ve each made the decision at separate times to just move a child to a dry area for the rest of the night. It’s a good thing a spit bath with baby wipes will eliminate most of that smell because there is zero time in the morning for a bath. At least we have mattress protectors so the urine just pools there under the sleeping body. Although the boys are potty trained and had no accidents the first 2 weeks, the changes must be setting in. We decided Ivan would sleep in a pull-up until he can stay dry at night consistently, but I didn’t have the time or energy to take my 3 Tiny Bladders to the store. Luckily at bedtime I found some leftover size 3 diapers, which were soaked for 2 nights in a row because Ivan didn’t know how to take the tabs off when he got up to use the bathroom. I had wanted to use up the diapers because they are free from my closet but finally broke down and purchased some pull-ups. Now the kid has stayed dry every night! What? Those babies were $10! I feel I should get a little more use out of them. And I probably could if he didn’t rip the sides off each morning. Wasteful!

After my Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day post, I received so much encouragement and advice from other moms. Thank you for that! Now if anyone knows how to avoid such days, I’d love to know that little secret because I’m not sure I could handle another. Since I didn’t get to share much of the week’s high points, I’ll do so at this time.

The boys haven’t been very affectionate with me…I can’t imagine why. I’m such a warm and loving person, right? They do hug and kiss nearly every other human they come in contact with though. Well, lately they have each been giving me random hugs and kisses. So sweet. Ivan has initiated fist bumps and high fives with me, a macho way of showing affection but it’s still affection. And one afternoon while I was at the sink, he came motioning for me to bend down then whispered, “I love you,” in my ear. Now that was the sweetest!

Although it may take 10 times as long, we’ve already got a routine down, and the boys could be better at cleaning up than Avery is. Usually their beds are already made before I even go in to get them up. Not just sloppily thrown together in a child-like manner. They are done to military level of perfection.

They’re eating very well and trying lots of new things, sometimes even with a reluctant smile… because they don’t really want me to know if they’re enjoying it. That doesn’t stop me though. If I get any hint of compliance, I cheer and dance around the table. My trick is to show them to dip everything in marinara sauce. Now I would never do this because of my anti-dipping philosophy, unless it’s cheese sauce or hummus, of course. But Avery first started eating veggies with marinara because I wouldn’t dare introduce her to ranch dressing. Gross! Dipping is fun for kids. Works for the boys too! Garris has his own trick though. If he finds something unappetizing or if he’s just not in the mood, he chews quickly and washes it down with water. He is a little stink! And still so, so great.

Tonight all three kids played without arguing, breaking anything, or crossing the boundary lines into the kitchen while Keith and I cleaned up dinner’s aftermath. A notable milestone for our new family.

It Always Gets Worse…Much Worse…Before It Gets Better

Okay, we’re two weeks in and I feel I should give another update… you know...with all this spare time. So I was going to recap the last week. Tell you about the boys' sing-song chanting: "Oh, Rapunzel, let down your hair!” While Keith is terrified…of that or the fact that they have the soundtrack memorized, Avery loves it! And, oh, the sibling rivalry that no meal is without. If it’s not a footsie fight under the table, they are scooting plates to infringe on another’s allotted space on top of the table. I want to tell you about the sweet yet destructive bonding that has already taken place between Avery and Ivan. They accompany each other to the bathroom and several times have nearly flooded the one downstairs. And their first trip to the pool! Within 3 minutes they went from being terrified to jumping in (with water wings of course). Even Ivan, whom I was most afraid for, took the next step: performing front flips into the water. Remember their first bath in Ethiopia? It was water-park-level excitement! I can’t imagine what they thought of the pool upon first glance.

Instead, I have to tell you about one single day: Today. Memorial Day 2011. This will likely be a day I never forget but would very much like to. I thought nothing would beat Thursday. Graduation day at my school. I used to be super on top of things and would get ready for the day before getting Avery up at 7:15. But with the boys getting up at 6:00 in the orphanage, I moved wake up to a reasonable 7:00. Thursday I had planned accordingly to be not just ready for work but professional enough to hand out diplomas to graduates on stage. Getting everyone on board has been tough: Garris isn't quite following the change in his routine. Who can blame him? He is my son. After waking up at 6:00, he immediately dropped down to Ivan's bed to wake him for their early morning trip to the bathroom. The problem is that they do not return to bed! How dare them! So my combat with children began at 6:15, clothed in only a towel. I was sweating within 15 minutes. I cried out to Keith for help even though I knew he was at the gym. Would have beat the floor in my pleas to God, which I admit to having done with Avery, if I'd had the time to drop down and get back up before a child escaped. I had no choice at 7:00 but to let them get up and get dressed. So lights on for all 3. Well, the boys are speedy quick with every move they make, which put them dressed and ready to go down for breakfast about the time Avery rolled out of bed. I had to find some way to keep the boys upstairs while Avery got dressed, and, oh, while I finished getting ready. The boys were content for 45 seconds before Avery began screaming about her “scratchy” outfit, and my battle with her began. At that point I didn't care what she wore as long as I didn't see It or Them. The four of us waged war until 8:05 when we loaded the van.

I wish I had the time to tell you more about last Thursday morning. I honestly thought I may have seen the worst. We've all complained about a day from hell. Today was straight from the deepest, darkest pit.

At 5:45 Garris woke Ivan up, well tried to wake him with persistent nudging and shaking. I quickly intervened by instructing Garris to use the bathroom, alone for once. After helping him back to bed and ignorantly thinking he would go to sleep, I had to go back in at least a dozen times trying to get him to stop making loud noises with books before finally taking the books from his bed. Although it’s against my soul to withhold literature as punishment, within 5 minutes I had removed 2 shelves of books…and some shoes…because now neither would stay in bed! Garris began asking for time out, i.e. playing with the fan and night light, so I granted his request. Now, while Ivan sits quietly for the most part in T.O., Garris has to be held there, which is a workout. I won’t bore you with all the details of the hour, but at 6:45 when Keith left for the airport (heading to Illinois to pick up a vehicle), I wore earplugs because Garris was wailing and kicking anything near him, and at 7:40 I removed the earplugs as he calmly joined us for breakfast ready for the day. And I was pooped. At 7:40!

One of our best friends Andy, who also lives in our neighborhood, had offered to help me with the kids at the pool. There’s no way I alone can keep all 3 from drowning, even with water wings, mini surf boards, a life jacket and star floatie. All I had to do in the hour and a half between breakfast and pool time was entertain them, keep them safe, and get out pool attire. I failed. But not too badly. After about 6 warnings of T.O. for various behavior not too atypical for boys, Garris and I suffered through another T.O. because he tripped Avery, causing her to hit her head on the table. I was more worried about having to hold him in T.O. again than whether or not Avery’s head was okay.

Swimming was uneventful, a huge relief to me.

Before we exited the gate, I repeatedly reminded the kids something of which they are fully aware: they must walk with me to the van. If not, it’s T.O. Garris took off laughing hysterically and Ivan soon followed. I am learning to choose my battles, and this one is worth it. For safety. After using the same tactics I did with Avery when she pulled a trick like that, the boys eventually rejoined us to safely cross to the van together.

After the boys were released from their well-deserved T.O. (during which the decibel of Garris’ screaming was so high that Avery had her ears covered and I couldn’t even hear the timer), Garris was still wailing and kicking the wall, I was exhausted and dripping with sweat, and Avery and Ivan sat quietly at the table waiting on lunch to be served. For the next 10 minutes, I removed Garris from the floor near the kids’ table at least 100 times because he only wanted to kick or shove it into the other 2. During this time, I was also unsuccessfully trying to get lunch out for everyone. I was shaking when I realized I needed back up. Fast. Everyone I knew was out of town for the holiday except for Andy, who quickly came and served lunch while I dealt with the relentless disobedience. We all cheered for Garris when he joined us for the last 5 minutes of lunch.

My heart rate returned to normal while I sat with the kids during their nap, a success thanks to the pool time.

Included in our daily routine is one snack, which occurs after naps. And the battle ensued. So far when Garris hasn’t gotten his way, I have seen no limit to how far he will go physically. Don’t be scared of him…no one’s been hurt too terribly. But I am getting worn out containing him or removing him from a situation. I had no idea what he wanted, but the snack I provided was definitely not it. Shocker. For the next half hour, I physically restrained him from attacking a sibling or appliance. I had called Keith in a panic as I chased Garris around the block, so he called our next-door neighbor for back up. When I returned with the now compliant runaway, I found Avery and Ivan who had stayed inside and literally cleaned up the snack time mess for me. Those two are not always helpful. They just tag team me.

Dinner went over fairly well, and I found out what Garris had wanted at snack time: croutons, that had been sitting out to go with dinner’s side salad. As if I had intentionally teased him with those delicious carbs. Sheesh!

One final task of the day, one I had never done alone: bathe all 3 kids and put them to bed. Plus, I needed a shower. Desperately needed one, despite my use of deodorant. I asked the boys to stay in the playroom, which they of course did not obey, while Avery and I took a bath. Okay, I know that’s weird, but she begged me and has already felt left out because she can’t take a bath with the boys. So, I regretfully caved. Regretful because of our vastly differing preferences in water temperature. After a not-so-thorough bath and hair washing for the gals, I sent Avery to get PJs while I helped the boys with their bath.

I have to admit that I was 15 minutes late getting everyone in bed. Gasp! But the worst part of the evening was when the boys asked for Keith when we prayed after a story and song. They call him Daddy to his face but often refer to him as Father in their cute little accents. Hearing that would normally melt me, but not after the day I had. Nope. Not after today.

Glamour Shots No More

Every year in the spring, I force my loved ones into the painful experience of the annual family photo shoot. Oh, what fun! In the past, we have gone to one of those torture chambers, also known as a portrait studio, where they pose everyone in a variety of cheesy arrangements. “Okay, Mom, you sit here next to Dad and place your right pinky on his shoulder…and Little One, you curl your legs like this and smile really big while I shake this disgusting feather duster in your face and make noises that are not age appropriate.” And, you FEEL even more uncomfortable than this sounds. Keith calls them our “glamour shots.” For the grandiose one in our living room, he is wearing far too much clothing for the position in which he is awkwardly lying.

So, he is the only one who has to be dragged. Kicking and screaming actually. Avery is a big ham for the camera and often asks me to take pictures as she arrogantly struts her stuff on a make-shift stage or runway. Even so, she is a child, which means if she knows how much we want something, such as the perfect shot for cards, blogs and facebook, she will do anything BUT comply.

We’ve only previously achieved the group of family smiles through blood, sweat and treats.

Since October when we received our referral, I have both looked forward to our new family-of-five pictures as well as dreaded the agony it would likely take to get it.

This year we avoided that pain. Thanks to DHC Photography we had the best and definitely most fun photo shoot ever! Now, I have many friends who take photos as a hobby, a side business or a day job. So, you guys, don’t be jealous that I didn’t call you. Daniel Camp is a super fun, artsy fartsy colleague of mine, who also has a photography business, and has begged me...pleaded with me...to let him take pictures of our gorgeous kids…since before we even got the referral for them. That's why we chose him. And, oh yes, his work is fantastic! You can see for yourself at www.danielhillcamp.com. I’m not putting his info out here because we struck a deal: You take our pics and I'll advertise for you. I just love his work and figure many of you will be asking for the info to schedule your own easy breezy, amazing photo shoot.

We went to a local park after work a few days ago and were in and out in less than 30 minutes. Beat that! The extreme heat may have hurried us along a tad, but Daniel and his assistant just snapped away as the kids played. To get a family shot, we kind of started heading out of the park and stopped along the way. You see us laughing in the picture because we are just trying to get 3 kids to stay and not run to the van…the makeena! How easy was that? And, they are fabulous!

Plus, he placed the disc and photo release in my hands the next morning. Ta da!!! Never knew it could be that simple and effortless.

I would love to tell you more about this day and why I look like I just ran a marathon, but I am tired and must close my eyes before I have to begin tomorrow’s battle. Here are a few favorites. Ahh, I wish I could post more! They are so darn good!

Let's go with birth order:

Garrison

Avery

Ivan

Boy, Girl, Boy

So, each of my kids has the perfect Zoolander Blue Steel Face

My Favorite Guys

I Can See the Light!

It's time to admit there's a problem when one son has only swim trunks left to wear, even to bed, and the other son is wearing Dora sparkle undies after already going commando once. Until day 7, I was drowning in laundry not to mention the other household chores. Thanks to a few great friends who stopped by during the week, I finally saw the bottom of that pile...only to have a new mound within 24 hours.

For an entire week, our bedroom floor was coated with cashew pieces. There isn’t a good reason why they stayed there for a week…other than the fact that I had a negative amount of time left in my day. But, I can explain how they got there. I used to be that person who unpacked upon walking in the door. Put everything away nice and neat…in its “home.” Now, items will be unpacked as I need to use them, and no sooner. My luggage lay on the floor opened for easy access to not only me but Simon as well. He sniffed out, tore open, scattered and munched on a pound of cashews contained not so securely in a ziplock baggie. At first my concern was Simon getting sick over gorging himself, so I strategically placed clothes and other objects to keep him out. I’m blaming the lack of sleep as to why I thought that would work. After crunching and grinding them beneath our feet day and night, Keith finally gave in and cleaned up the remaining few cups at the end of the week.

One day I needed to sit down and do nothing. Ten minutes was all I wanted. I had to lure and contain them with something for my mini-hiatus. Snack time! Popcorn, cheese crackers, even cookies. I was desperate. I did get to sit down, but my plan backfired. Half the kitchen floor was covered with their edible remnants. Let me say I've given up on being a clean freak; however, I was determined to vacuum. Now I wasn't too ambitious. Just wanted to get downstairs done. I had to find something else (besides food) to occupy them while I vacuumed. I set the kids' table up for watercolors: paper, water, paint and a brush for each. But before I even got out and plugged in the vacuum, they had produced enough masterpieces to plaster the entire frig, and they were over that activity. By the time I finished vacuuming, I'd had to shuffle the kids through 5 different craft stations and now needed to clean up that evidence. This was all because I wanted…needed…to sit down and do NOTHING. For 10 minutes!

I felt better physically and mentally after having Avery than I did upon our return home with the boys. In each situation I had been awake for about 2 days, but a baby is immobile and sleeps much of the day. Three-, four-, and five-year olds, however, have endless energy. Why didn't someone warn me about this?

Not only was I lacking 2+ days of sleep, but add to that jetlag of the 7-hour time difference and 3 kids to entertain. Exhaustion was an understatement. I was so tired our second full day home that I was physically nauseated from it. I knew my brain wasn’t working when I found myself shaking each egg before cracking it. Then I kept noticing misplaced items. And, it was I who misplaced them!!! I hung my hair towel on my hand towel hook. Gasp! I’m not sure I have ever hung a towel in the wrong spot before.

For the first several days I ate burned scrambled cheesy egg whites because I kept forgetting my breakfast cooking unattended behind me while I made pancakes for the kids. I was committed to making breakfast for myself because the next chance to eat would be 3:00.

I have quickly realized that a daily swipe of deodorant isn't going to cut it for me. I've had to reapply in the afternoons just so Keith will sit next to me at dinner, and a few days I even had to change my shirt mid-day. So, I've gone from not exerting enough energy to necessitate deodorant…to this??? I'm going to have to start carrying a back-up stick right along with my lip gloss.

I’ve heard new moms say that their daily goal was a shower. I have officially given up on that. If my goal is consistently unattainable (as a daily shower would be at this point), I’m left disappointed. So, what is my daily goal? Brushing my teeth. Before noon. That’s it.

It sounds like my life is falling apart. Maybe it is for the time being. But, the kids are already falling into some semblance of a routine. And, while it is dim, there is a light at the end of this very long tunnel.

Life in The States: Week 1

How do you properly introduce foreign children to the US?

Chick-fil-A and Target

They, of course, love both! Who doesn’t? There is good reason why both are full of moms with their children in tow. I had realized the boys were lacking a few items that middle sis had and might be envious. Shopping for backpacks and sunglasses was a hit. Keith said no to character bags, so they have “big boy” backpacks. He did give in on the sunglasses though because the boys based their choice on color, not the unknown characters displayed. Spiderman for Ivan and Spongebob for Garris.

They love their room, although getting them upstairs to see it for the first time was difficult because they thought they were being taken straight to bed. Love the playroom, but keeping them from climbing the shelves or from putting their little disastrous hands in the CD player looks like it will be a never-ending battle. Love their clothes so much that Ivan starts undressing every time he catches a glimpse of another outfit in his drawer or closet.

Not everything has gone as well. They acted as if I had just unleashed Cujo on them when I brought Simon into the playroom for introductions. For the first few days, they ran and screamed with terror anytime they saw or even thought he might be near. Relations are improving between them already. Ivan gives him kisses but also tries to pinch him. Deep down I’m pretty sure Simon knows their ingrained distaste for him. He’s taking the changes pretty hard, maybe worse than when Avery was born.

Carseats and seatbelts were also an issue. We actually had to pull over while one of them hyperventilated and had a mental breakdown on the way home from the airport. Now all 3 strap themselves in…once I got them to realize the physical repercussions of not wearing them.

The language barrier makes it hard for things to run smoothly, but not impossible. We model many things for them and often look ridiculous while exaggerating made-up sign language. Usually they get the general idea. However, if they don’t like something, instead of trying to communicate they pout. And, it’s ugly. One is verbal and expressive while the other silent and stoic. I’m pretty sure Garris knows what he’s doing because he mocks me when I ask him questions. And, Ivan shakes his little finger at me when he gets in trouble, as if he’s the one dolling out the reprimand.

They are adapting to our food better than I expected. I’ve coerced them into trying a few veggies. Even coerced WITHOUT dessert bribery. All they want to eat are bread and beans though. Pretty easy but not much variety. Oh, they like M&Ms. A few more items they’ve taken to: peanut butter (at least we’ll survive), pancakes (which they call injera), pasta, bananas, and nearly anything spicy.

Bedtime has been fine. Naptime is the struggle. I gave up and put all three in one room for naps, and I sit with them for the 2-hour duration. Bored to tears. I would sleep if it were possible, but rare is the moment when all 3 are quiet and still simultaneously. To keep me from weeping over the boredom, I take my phone and write most of the blogs. I’m a little behind…because I am using a tiny keypad and often my brain is just too darn tired to work that hard.

Other amazing new things: play dough, slides and swings at the park, bicycles, water sprinklers.

Peculiar things: they love dress-up shoes and other accessories, and while the movie Cars only held their attention for about 3 minutes, they are mesmerized by Tangled (the story of Rapunzel).

They started occasionally calling each other by their American names on our second day home. And, while they’re still working on Jesus Loves Me, they have the Clean Up song down and sing it at any mention of the phrase. That shouldn’t be surprising if you know what kind of ship I run around here.

I would equate the boys’ move here with moving American children to Disney World. Everything is new and exciting…and will likely be that for a while. It is nearly impossible to establish order and enforce discipline. But, eventually, we will find a norm. A new norm.

>p>