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Visit to Kenty-Dranes

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After we left Beth’s we went for a visit to the Kenty-Drane house in Woodbridge Connecticut to see K & O’s god-parents. We had fun with Jessie, Paul, and baby Sammy for a couple hours before heading back to Pennsylvania. We were so happy that Kate, Jessica’s sister, was there too ‘cuz we love her almost as much as we love the Kenty-Dranes! K & O of course had a blast, as did we. Here are a couple pictures from our short but sweet visit.

Kyle with “Sister Kate” (so funny – this is what K & O call Kate, because she’s Jessica’s sister… it makes it sound like she’s a nun or something!! we get a big kick out of this!)

Owen & Kyle love baby Samantha… especially her bald head and her little ears!

K & O with the Kenty-Dranes

Sweetie Pie Sleepy Pie

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After such a busy whirlwind travel weekend, the boys were exhausted and waaaaay ready for bed at 7:00 tonight. They both fell asleep with their arms wrapped around their new cuddly fish, which they reminded us several times were “from BETH!” Our life is crazy, but it is crazy-good.

Home Can Heal

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This week I’ve been thinking a lot about adoption because we’ve spent a lot of this week with our next-door-neighbors who have just brought home their two new children from India. It has gotten me thinking about some of the things people have said to me over the past couple of years about adoption. One person, a total stranger who approached me in the grocery store one day to ask about Kyle and Owen, said something to the effect of: “Well I could never do it, but I think adoption is great for people who have the guts to do it… Of course, I just hope that those parents know what they’re getting into!” My first thought was, “Hmmm… let’s see… does any parent ever know what they’re getting into?!” Those of us who are adoptive parents sometimes commiserate about this with each other– about how often biological parents say things to us that convey how they think they know so much more about what they are “getting into” than adoptive parents do, and about how often biological parents tell us that they are “too scared” to adopt because “you just never know what you might get.” Well, the truth is, that any parent could be thrown for a loop at any moment… whether that is because of some problem discovered at the birth of their child (or at the adoption of their child), or three months or years or decades down the road. No, we don’t know what we’re “getting into”… ever. That’s part of the miracle and joy and heart-break of it all… for all of us who are parents — biological and adoptive.

Many kids who are adopted out of orphanages come home very frail. They are often malnourished. They are often emotionally traumatized. They are in rough shape — medically, emotionally, and pretty much in every way. But, kids adopted out of orphanages are strong and resilient too. And, at least from what I have seen, that strength and resiliency far outweighs the frailty. Children who have survived life in an orphanage in a place like Port-au-Prince Haiti have a strength and a resiliency that is miraculous and inspiring and beautiful. And these children need a lot of healing too. Parents who adopt children from these places believe in their hearts and souls that they can heal these children.

When we first met Kyle and Owen on January 31, 2005 they were eight months old and frail and sick and severely malnourished. When we finally got them home and got them to our pediatrician she told us, point blank, that they would not have “made it” much longer there. She told us, with the most emotionally-neutral medically- scientific tone imaginable: “You have saved these children.” They had all sorts of vitamin and nutrient deficiencies. Their bellies were distended. Their cheeks were bloated. Their hair was falling out. Their skin was rashy. They were weak. Their eyes were glazed over. They were semi-unresponsive and developmentally delayed. They cried mournfully in the night and sometimes had night terrors. Braydon and I believed, and we told ourselves everyday, “We can heal these children.” Every parent who adopts in a situation like this believes that.

People who see Kyle and Owen now, and don’t know the whole story, would probably not ever imagine the journey that they’ve been on to get where they’ve gotten. Just scroll through this blog and what you see is two gorgeous, healthy, THRIVING boys. At their 2-year-old “well baby” check up with our pediatrician she told us, with tears in her eyes, that K & O were some of the “healthiest, most thriving” toddlers she has ever seen. She looked me in the eye, and said to me (with both of us welled up with tears), “Do you remember how they were when you first got them? Do you even remember?” I said, “Yes, I remember.” And she said firmly to me — doctor to mother — “You do know what you have done, right? You do know that you have saved these children?” And I just nodded because I was too choked up to even say, “Yes.”

I never forget. Kyle and Owen will not remember (which is good), but I will always remember. And hopefully, when my sons look back on their life, the good will outweigh the bad. That is the hope that every parent holds for their child.

For a couple of years now Braydon and I have had a Maya Angelou quote hanging smack in the middle of our bathroom mirror (we put it there because that is the one sure place we’ll see it every single day). The quote is this:

“Home can heal. There is healing in Home.”

Kyle and Owen, First Day Home, February 2005

Owen and Kyle, Second Day Home, February 2005

P.S. To Braydon’s Diaper Failure Post

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I just read Braydon’s post from this morning. It is true that this morning when the boys woke up we immediately realized that Kyle had gone all night with no diaper, and that it had been Braydon who got him ready for bed last night, and that our poor boy was soaked and chilled to the bone as the result of Braydon’s wrong-doing. But I just have to say: in defense of my husband — who is the best, and most intimately-involved-with-daily-hands-on-childcare, father I know — that this is not an example of “Parent Failure,” it is clearly an example of Parent Exhaustion (otherwise known as Working-Father-of-Twin-Two-Year-Olds-DELIRIUM).

Diaper (parent) Failure

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A guy I know was saying how hard it is now that he has two kids in diapers at the same time – a really little one and bigger one.

We can commiserate, but our diaper management procedure goes something more like this: “Papi – it’s a biiiiiiiiiiig green pooooopie!” (delight in his voice) – his brother chimes in: “See it Papi?!?! See it!!!” and proceeds to attempt to climb up the side of the dresser to the top where we have the changing table while the other one starts kicking and from time to time hits the poopie diaper. Repeat for other boy.

Or another favorite – us: “Do you want to put your diaper on, on the floor or on the changing table” (it’s not worth it to fight this one). His response: “On the bed!!!” Repeat for other boy.

Another one of our norms (well, mine anyway, Heather is better about this than I am) is when Owen kicks me during diaper changes. If I am alone, this inevitably leads to Kyle crying since it takes me about 5 times as long to change Owens diaper when he’s kicking and I can’t get him up there to see the big green (or blue, or yellow, or red, or orange) poopie.

Occassionally we have a diaper failure. That typically means that quality control on the diaper went arwy, and diaper has ripped a little and the gel packs inside have come out – leading to a very wet bed and boy. And honey bunny, pillow, blankets etc.

And for the first time, yesterday, I entirely forgot to put a new diaper on Kyle before bed. That one is not diaper failure, that’s parent failure. Poor guy. He was so wet and cold, I feel so bad about it. Heather ran a bath for him and he got warmed up and clean.

Owen had to join him in the bath of course.

Quote of the Day: Rhapsody/Keys

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“After I listen to Rhapsody in Blue, then I listen to Alicia Keys.” –Kyle

Tonight, while we were eating dinner, the four of us were talking about some of the music we are currently listening to in the car. In the midst of it Kyle announced what is quoted above, and it made our hearts melt with pure pride for the sweetness of this darling boy.

(If interested… click here for notes on Rhapsody in Blue: classical.net or fanfaire.com …click here for notes on Alicia Keys: aliciakeys.com )

Sandy & Charlie Are Back, Ambika & Nate Are Home!!!

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Our next-door-neighbors, Sandy & Charlie, are back from India and they’ve got their newly adopted babies home with them now safe and sound. We were honored to be the first non-family members to welcome the newest American citizens to the U.S.A. I cannot even articulate how big of a deal this is for us. What are the chances that we’d happen to find ourselves living in an upper-middle-class Bucks County Pennsylvania neighborhood in which 5 of the 12 houses are inter-racial families? What are the chances that we’d happen to find ourselves living anywhere in the country and have our next-door-neighbors be an adoptive family that comes pretty darn close to resembling our own? I seriously can’t even explain all of the ways that this is so incredibly great for Kyle and Owen — let alone for Braydon and I. We are so blessed to be in this situation. In so many, many countless ways.

The arrival of Ambika and Nate from their orphanage in India has been much anticipated by our family. I wasn’t sure how it would go, given how attached to Sandy our boys are. Would they be insanely jealous to see Sandy have, and prioritize, her own children? Would the age difference between the kids (Ambika is 4, Nate is 6) bo too huge for them to be able to play well together? Would K & O have a real big problem with not being the sole focus of all of the adult attention (Sandy, Charlie, Braydon, and I hang out in our driveways –between our two houses– a lot, and often our other neighbors, Pat & Amy who have no children, join us)? How do you explain adoption to two-year-olds in a way they can understand? We try all the time, when we talk about their own adoption, but who knows how much of it they are actually comprehending? What do they interpret, for example, when I say “Sweetie pie, Sandy is Ambika and Nate’s mommy now!”?

I honestly do not think that K, O, Ambika, and Nate’s first meeting could possibly have gone any better. At first there was apprehension on all of their parts. But after some Halloween candy was exchanged, and the trucks got rolling, it was as if the four of them had been playmates forever! As a welcome home gift we had given Ambika and Nate each a truck — just like the ones that Owen and Kyle have and play with every day in the driveway. Although they are 4 & 6 years old, they are so tiny because of malnourishment and stunted growth. So, they can fit and ride the trucks just fine. Since K & O are so enormous for their age, the four of them are very comparable in size. (Just as a reference point– K & O currently weigh 38 pounds each; Nate, the 6-year-old, weighs 24 pounds). And since none of them speak English very well (Ambika and Nate spoke no english when Sandy and Charlie first met them at their orphanage 2 weeks ago) everyone is JUST FINE in that realm!!! That’s one of the best things about the whole scenario: They don’t have to talk much or explain much or do much at all — they can all four just be kids. And play. And forget, a bit, about the suffering they have all had in the histories of their short little lives. What’s amazing is to watch them together and see their smiles and realize that they don’t even have any idea how much they all actually have in common. What matters to them right now is basically this: We are four little kids, we have four cool trucks, our driveways slant down-hill so we can ride like the wind, we have mommies and daddies, and our mommies give us all the milk we can drink and all the snacks we can eat… truly: it doesn’t get much better than that. Especially when you have known otherwise.

Here are some photos of the big day: the day the four kids met for the first time! (click here and here and here)

"Not our house"

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We play this game in the car when we get to our neighborhood: We point to each house and say – “is that our house?” and Kyle or Owen answer “nooooo!?!?” When we finally get to our house they say “our house!”. I am sure lots of parents do similar things, after all, we want our boys to know which is their home.

We also do it with driveways when we take walks. “That’s not our driveway…” (which really means, ‘don’t go walking in there, stay here with me’). It’s morphed into everything – that’s not our dog, this is my mama-papi, is that our car, etc. It must also be some developmental stage, since they seem to have nailed the concept of “mine” (although they don’t quite have sharing yet, but they’re not too bad about it).

We were driving home from the pharmacy after picking up antibiotics on Tuesday and before we arrived at out neighborhood Owen started with “Papi – that’s not our house” for pretty much every house we passed. That’s a lot of houses and he insisted I answer “that’s right Owen, that’s not our house” for each one. When we got to our house he was thrilled, kicking and thrashing in his seat (see note below about being ‘sick’…) “our house! our house!”

And the thing that really zings me is that they get to say “our” – after all, “ours” means so much in so many ways.

Halloween – Pumpkin Carving

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Kyle and Owen carved their first jack-o-lantern. Well, they didn’t actually carve it, but they helped dig all the seeds and gushy pumkin stuff out of the inside. And I guess technically this was their second jack-o-lantern carving experience, since we did it last year too, but they were only 18 months old then so I’m not sure that really counts. Anyway, Owen kept saying, very seriously, “Mommy, don’t eat it.” And I’d say, “It’s o.k. Owen, you can eat it!” And he’d taste some of the raw pumkin guts and say, “It’s yucky.” Then a few seconds later: “Mommy, don’t eat it”… and the whole thing would start all over again. He tried it many times and said, “It’s yucky” each time. Kyle, on the other hand, had no interest in eating it (remarkable since the boy can EAT with the best of ’em and eats about 3x as much food per day as Owen). Kyle was just totally fascinated with the whole production– particularly the CANDLES once they were placed, and lit, inside the jack-o-lantern. He continuously kept blowing them out by blowing through the pumkin’s cut-out-mouth. It was driving me nutty because I’d finally get the thing lit, then he’d blow it out. I started getting really mad, telling him “KYLE, DO NOT BLOW IT OUT!” Owen would then eagerly egg him on: “Blow it out Kyle! Blow it out!!” and Kyle would then blow out the candles. So infuriating. Anyway, the jack-o-lantern was cute and the boys loved doing it.