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And so we come to the section of life where the four year old boy needs to start talking about his Birth Mother. After the long, emotional talks into the night with Evelyn, I considered myself prepared, and after spending most all of my life as a mother to both a girl and a boy contrasting the differences between the two, I am not sure why it ever occurred to me that this particular subject would be the same.
 Can we just say that, in this home, with these two personalities at least, that talking over emotional stuff with the daughter is kind of like a Freudian Marathon that you forgot you signed up for, at the end of a very long day and it involves lots of crying, laughing, photo albums and maybe some art therapy at 2 a.m., where as, with the boy? It's a bit more like drive thru Voo-doo and some random conversation thrown in. No less exhausting- just completely and utterly different and new. I'm not trying to make light of this subject, or my son. ( Well, if you knew Liam...you'd already be smiling because he is really and truly so very funny, you just can't help it). It's just that sometimes we laugh to survive.
We have been taking care of Liam's surgical scar- scar massage and surgical sillicone applied daily. As he lays across my lap, he looks up at my face and gently rubs it, most often focusing on my lips, where he has found, a dark birth mark. And for three or four days he has asked me about this mark very tenderly and concerned. Then one day he said wait, did you say "birth mark" or birth MOM" and I repeated myself, but he responded, "Oh, I think you should tell me about mine and sissy's Birth Mom's". And just like that we were off.
The interesting thing for me with him though, has been that he just doesn't want to hear stories from me. He wants to TELL ME stories. Now, this is something very new to me. This is something Evelyn never, ever wanted or needed to do. I am completely ok that he needs to do this. I know that it is normal for some kids to need to do this. I am not even shocked at some of the scenarios he creates. He is just a small boy, trying to make sense of the very confusing way he got to us, his forever family. And believe me, he IS confused by the whole thing, and I don't blame him. And sometimes he still gets afraid that things are going to change again for him, that his family will swiftly metamorphasize into something else he doesn't know or can not recognize, he doesn't use those words, but I am his Mom, I can tell by certain moods, or certain cries in the night. And so he begins to find his way now.
He tells me stories about what his BM is doing in China. Sometimes she is dead. Sometimes she is alive and shopping at the store for milk. Sometimes she is on an airplane coming here to see him, just to see him, you understand. The other thing is that he has asked about his Birth Father, which Evelyn never has. He also likes me to tell him how he got from his BM to us and how even though she was probably nice and loved him and made a good choice for him, he never, ever, ever has to leave us or his Sissy or Billy Bones or WaWa (his Fish) or Cerina(resident hammy).
This happens-lightening fast and then he wants chocolate milk! Then! He's off!!!!!
Stop crying Sister. And most likely Aunt Kathryn.
It's ok.
It's not sad.
I mean it is.
It is. It really is. That whole bit is. That first part is. The First 21 months. The loss of a birth mother, her terrible choice, the orphanage, the foster care, the first surgery without us, more foster care, the next orphanage. No wonder he is confused.
But then came us! Which includes you guys!
And he's talking now! Which I love because that means we know what he's thinking and we can see that he's healing and we know that he's getting it and we are making his fears smaller and smaller and we can do better and better for him. So this is meant to be a good post. A happy post. A Liam is doing great post. A shadows from the past are getting smaller post.
I don't always have the right words for my kids. I just say things and mortar it up with a lot of "I love you"-s and a lot of trips to see family so you guys can help me.

Midnight Call

“Sweet, crazy conversations full of half sentences, daydreams and misunderstandings more thrilling than understanding could ever be.”  Toni Morrison 

Last night, while hopped up on many different types of pain meds (I was on day 9 of a migraine but that is neither here nor there), I got an episode of "Alien Sister Hand". OH? You don't know what ASH is? That is when your heart knows more that your mind, and your heart takes control of your hand and before you know it, your phone is in your hand and your sister's number has been dialed, and the phone is up to your ear and it's ringing, and in a split second you get it... She needs you. From hundreds of miles away, through the drugged haze, through the tiredness of the day, in the wee hours of the night, over the sounds of the video game going on...over everything else in front of you, somehow, your sister heart knew that she needed you and so, the phone made it into your hand. There is cursory conversation, but she knows. It's time to talk. We have had this dance too many times over the years. And my husband knows too, he grabs the remote and turns down the video game and looks at me and just shakes his head a bit- in wonderment? In exasperation? We don't know, my sister and I, what our men think of us really, and we can't care for we are sistahs and we do what we do and what we must.  

“Sisters function as safety nets in a chaotic world simply by being there for each other.”--Carol Saline

 And then it was my turn because I needed her too, that's how it goes I suppose. We take turns, one goes first and then the other for the big things, later on it gets all jumbled up and we talk over and under and roller coaster-y, but that is after we have settled the stuff that upsets us. So we take the big things and we turn them inside out and upside down, we apply the sisterly soul version of stain treater known as laughter, where no one else could show us laughter before and we forgive each other of whatever the other one thinks she has done that is so horrible. The other thing we do is bring out the sharp truths that no one else can dare to say to us. Those things that you know you need to do, or hear, those things that your own heart has been whispering but you are afraid to face. You say those things and you hear your sister weep, or you hear them and weep and softly say, "I know, I know" then you make each other laugh again because you have each faced another monster under the bed together again and come out okay and didn't have to wake-up Daddy afterall.

“Sister. She is your mirror, shining back at you with a world of possibilities. She is your witness, who sees you at your worst and best, and loves you anyway. She is your partner in crime, your midnight companion, someone who knows when you are smiling, even in the dark. She is your teacher, your defense attorney, your personal press agent, even your shrink. Some days, she's the reason you wish you were an only child.” --Barbara Alpert

 (*I rarely wished I was an only child)

So today I am thinking about my sister, more than usual I suppose, because last night we talked about when we were teenagers, sort of a twilight time between that stormy establishing independence phase and becoming adult women. I think that this time is just as magical as being 6 and 10 together but it isn't given as much attention in literature or in the verbal histories of women, so many sisters miss what is happening between them. Melissa posted a FB post about this time a couple of days ago and I love that she did, it was supposed to be happy but, I knew she was missing me terribly, for one thing, there was about two too many of these ! for it to be happy but, only her sister would know that. And for another thing I immediately began to cry for the desperate need of my sister in the same room. 

“You can kid the world, but not your sister.” -- Charlotte Gray 

Let us be clear here. We fight. I am not above throwing a cookbook at her head if I think she's being stupid and she will be more than verbal if she thinks I am being stupid. We can clear an entire house of adults and children with a Sister War that not a single person but us can even begin to understand the political ramifications of, and it can be so terrible and fierce that no person within earshot can ever imagine how we would ever be on speaking terms again, but more than likely in about 20 minutes time you will find us laughing and crying and almost back to normal. I will never stop loving or abandon my sister. I will always go to her aid. I will always answer her call. The love I have for her comes easy as a summer rain and is just as predictable as the love I have for my children. We have shared the same murky womb, we have so many shared childhood experiences-lost pets, yelling to each other over the sound of grinding big-wheels in the summertime, waiting overnight in wintertime for "the branches to fall", laying flat in the grass in summer and watching for the Blimp...she's simply my dark eyed sister and I love her.

Metal Men

15.9 kg

Surgery day has come and gone.
We checked him in to the pre-op section. He stood on the scale and looked so tiny. All 15.9 kg of him. They gave him the Versed and Les and I watched as he became goofier and goofier. Before I was ready, they came and took him back to the O.R. and that was it.
Then Leslie, my sister and I sat and waited for 4 hours. And I grieved. Now, I know it was silly but during those 4 hours, I could only think that my son's face was being changed. You see he was having his palate revised and improved after his initial palate closure and this palate surgery is aimed at giving Liam optimal speech and I am ALL about that. But he was also getting some work done on his lip scar and his little nose.
This is where some folks may have trouble following my heart. I tend to think that only the parents of cleft affected children can know what I mean, then sometimes I think any Mom will know what my heart was going through. It was this: Even though I know that the cosmetic changes that the Dr. was going to do were agreed upon by Les and I, even though the changes were promised to be minor and essentially needed to prevent issues later on...my son's face, the face that I loved was going to be changed and I was grieving the loss of that little face. And I grieved hard.
And then, as always, when I think a long time on the medical facts of Liam's cleft palate and his cleft lip, my heart and mind settle on his past and I grieve for the facts of his past.

And then they were calling us back to recovery and the first thing I saw was this tiny little lump in that huge bed. And the second thing I saw was his little face and even though he was swollen, and even though he was still sleepy and even though his face was changed...he was still Liam. And he was different, he was just...a bit...well...none of us can really find the right word for it. He's just really, really cute. And I might feel a bit silly for all of that grieving but maybe not.
Maybe that's why I was able to walk in and look at him and think how cute he was right away.

I can tell you the tales of the first pre-op night, but we have all been there in one way or another. Kids are tough man, and by the next morning he was laughing and eating a tiny bit and drinking enough to come home. Today is post-op day 6, he is still a bit whiney, still a bit needy but much better than I had hoped. His incision looks great, he is almost off of his prescription pain meds, he is eating like a champ (soft foods) and he is cuter than ever.

Catching My Breath, Coming To Terms

I have to admit that I have fallen off of the blogging train for awhile. I must apologize. I don't think that my life has lost validity or that my children have stopped being cute and funny, Lord no! They are cuter and funnier than ever, as a matter of fact. It just seems, that I have been floundering a bit, trying to find my way. I seem to be lost in the familiarity of my life after being sick for so long.

Perhaps it wasn't just that I was sick, it was the nature of the sickness. The strength of some of my pain meds would knock me out and leave me in a haze and I truly have no memory of complete blocks of days, and on top of that my headaches were so bad that I had to just lay in my room and have no interaction at all with my family. That I am literally having to re-work myself back into my life, or I was, that work is almost done now. There is a "but" to all of this though.

But, it isn't exactly the same. The husband is the same, the kids are the same, it's all the same, except me. I am a "chronic migrainer" now and that has an affect on me, on us. The headaches can hit at any time and last for who knows how long... You know? I could go on, but I am sick of it all. Let us just say that the headaches are still a part of our lives and they affect us now in an ongoing way. I get almost caught up, and then a headache comes along and I am behind again.

I am sort of limping along, trying to find a rhythm in what is potentially a rhythmless life now. Maybe my life now is more of loosely scheduled or a highly suggestible kind of thing.

Approaching Fast

Liam's surgery is finally booked and in a breathless instant I went from fretting over when it would be booked to being slightly ill at the thought of all he would go through during the surgery.

He needs a z-plasty with a pharyngoplasty along with a scar revision on his lip and a tip rhinoplasty on his nose. The surgery itself is expected to last 2.5 to 3 hrs with an overnight stay. In the field of craniofacial surgery I suppose what we have lined up isn't that big of a deal for the surgeons but it is for us and I think our Team gets that. 

We are experiencing what all parents of cleft affected children go through right before surgery. The anxiety of changing our child's face. We love him so much just as he is. he is our son and we find only perfection in him and the thought of intentionally changing his face surgically wrenches at our hearts in a way that you can not imagine. We have no issue with the palate, FIX THAT! And fix that fast. But his little face? Oh how I wish we didn't have to make the choice of changing that. 

 Luckily enough for my heart, I know a few families like us and I find comfort in the fact that they tell me that, in the end they do not regret the surgeries they have chosen for their sons or daughters. 

I also know that this time around will be a bit harder for my heart. The truth of the matter is that during Liam's first surgery, I just wasn't quite his Mama yet. It still felt like I was kind of baby sitting a boy for someone. I felt bad for him and it was hard for sure but ...Now? I am fully committed to him as my son and I also know from those same mothers that this will by far be much, much more difficult emotionally. 

As far as what Liam will experience? I guess the first few days are bad but I hear the kids bounce back faster than you would expect. I think the hardest part is keeping them away from their stitches and keeping them on the soft diet. I know that the night in the hospital might be hellish for the little guy. 

March 19 is approaching fast. I want it over. I want it to never come. 

Moments

Walking out of the grocery store on a chilly night, a light hearted eight year old slips her tiny, fragile hand into yours as she is skipping along. She looks up at you and says something about the moon or her brother or maybe she thanks you for some oddment that you bought her just a bit ago. But that feeling of that little hand slipping  into yours so completely relaxes you, reminds in a flash of all of the moments you have shared with her and suddenly you feel as if the world is filled with golden sunshine and you are light as a feather.

Papa and Evelyn are not sleepy but the boy and the Mama are, so we head off for a nap. I climb in bed and get our nest of blankets and pillows just so as he runs of to find just the right stuffed animal. He climbs in bed and doesn't object at all when I pull him in close enough to smell his sweet maple syrup scent, and feel the heat of his still chubby in places body, and in a tangle, the boy and I fall asleep and no one bothers us at all. For a good long while.

Evelyn decides she wants her dollhouse back down from the attic and the days of quiet afternoons of Ev and Mama and Peach the Rabbit are back. This time the story is more involved and we talk a bit more, things are changed but the same, and I cherish each and every moment, and I live for the times when she says, "Hey, Mama wanna play rabbits with me?" -oh, I try my best to drop everything and go back to her room and shut the world out and stop time if only for a little bit. I bet you didn't know that little three inch velveteen rabbits could stop time.

Getting a call from miles away, my nephew upset about little things and big things in life. He was calling, allegedly about the little things but really calling because he wanted to talk to his Aunt Michal about the big things, because he loves and trusts her. To have somehow earned the love and trust of that boy...to be on the list of people he would call over such important things is such an honor. My little puppy. My Mykonos.

Playing trains with Liam. Little hands moving trains along the tracks. Big giant four year old falling on the tracks and city Ev and I built- over and over and the three of us giggling and giggling at him. All of the kisses I would get as he came around to my side of town. Suddenly I realized that in a boy's room, its the wooden trains that can stop time.

Personal Best

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Evelyn's first Competition of the 2013 Season was yesterday. We are so very proud of her. She did medal- 6th place on bars. She also improved her personal scores on each apparatus from last year, which is awesome! More than either of those things though, she went out there when she was nervous, she performed a floor routine that had a booty shake in it that she did not like (it is very apparent in the pictures when that part is going on), she got up on the beam and did a more complex routine than ever before, she whipped around on the bars, she was straight up on the vault. She was my little heroine. When we got home that night and her flowers were in water and her medals were hung up, she gave me a hug and told me that, "You are the best Mama a little gymnast could ever have!" So I guess both Ev and I went to bed winners last night, but she did all of the work!

A Very Merry Christmas Was Had

The tree was bought and decorated.
The carols were played.
The cookies were baked and eaten.
Lots and lots of cookies were baked and eaten.
There was much snuggling and not much schooling.
All of the requisite Holiday movies were viewed.
All of the rivers were gone over and all of the woods were gone through, though the Grandparents came to us!
The presents were bought, delivered, opened and enjoyed.
Old stories were remembered and new stories were made.
Yes, indeed. A Very Merry Christmas was had.

Silent Night or Papa Sleeps 15 Minutes And Goes To Work Refreshed and Happy

Ever have one of those nights?
Oh man was last night a barrel of laughs around here.

First we remembered, just as we were trying to drag our tired selves to bed, that we left the gift for Ev's gift exchange tonight up in the attic. So, up to the attic Les went.

Then, just as we were drifting off, there was this strange popping sound that needed investigating. So Les had to get up and see what that was. Hey! Billy was already settled in on my face so I couldn't do it. We never did figure that out.

Later, we heard a strange little huffing noise that Les again had to go out and check. Look, the cat sleeps on my face all night OK? This time it was Evelyn up shuffling about and sneezing. ???

The next thing was a child crying and the cat does get dumped off for that. But both kids were ok. So I get all huffy at having to get out of bed. Use the restroom, and turn my fan on so block out any further unpleasantness. I climb back into bed and just for kicks, decide to lay on my left side facing Les. See? Romance is alive after 19 years people!
But wait! The cat! He was DISTURBED in his slumber!
oh noes!!

And here is where the fit hits the shan.

The cat jumps on the bed in his usual fashion. With a light burble, expecting my head and face to be somewhere they are not. He is already annoyed at the gall of us disturbing his slumber so many times and this just sends him over the edge. His light burble turns into something angry and jungle like. His little bed hop is turned into an Olympic Triple Papa Face Hop that turns Les into a Whirling Dervish of Nightmares!


Les!He springs straight up in bed at the waist like some sort of Halloween wind up toy; his head, recently shaved with the texture of velcro, brings along the flannel covered pillow so the pillow is stuck to the back of his head; and due to the angle and speed of both his uprising and the arc and speed of the cat's Olympic attempt, the cat is actually kind of stuck to the front of his face for a bit. Now let me tell you, the cats, legs were scrambling. Leslie's arms were windmilling frantically and he was yelling at the TOP of his lungs. "UH! What the f@#%?!? What the... F@$%?! What the F@$%?!?! OH my God!!! What?!?!?"

And then finally the cat cleared and Les exhaled this huge exhale and laid back with his pillow and head landing exactly where they had started. He sighed and looked at me and said, " What just happened? I was dreaming and then something was all over my face and then a bag was on my head..." and I was like, "I can't even begin...." just go back to sleep..."

The cat spent the rest of the night on the couch. In a huff.

They Put The "Monkey" In Monkey Swing

In his ongoing attempt to drive me to the edge of my sanity, Leslie installed a monkey swing for the kids. Then immediately got them hooked on swinging as heart stoppingly high as they could. I'm not kidding, they are like little junkies. Liam especially likes to lay back real far and close his eyes like he's at a Spa or something. I just stay inside and drink while they are on it. They won't even listen when I dare to choke out a suggestion that they wear helmets, NO!, they laugh at me and just keep swinging.
Daredevils.
Now I look back and remember the many times my mom would gasp, "JACK!" and we would all say, "OH! Mo-ooom!" Poor. Poor worried Moms. They just stand there chewing their nails and planning trips to the E.R. while everyone else is having a grand time.

I may start with holding Molasses Cookies.

Finding That Silver Lining

They say that there is always a silver lining if you look for one.
I will be completely honest, as I struggled for close to five months with the same, grinding migraine that seemed to be eating my life away, I simply could not see a single positive thing.
Now, as I am getting closer to my "new normal" and not experiencing blinding pain for most of the time. Now that the hospitalizations are behind me (I hope I hope I hope I hope). Now that my Doctor seems to have me on a med regime that works...I can see that there were positive things that happened.

The idea that my parents would do anything for my children, Les and I became a tangible reality as my Mom came and took care of us for 6 weeks and my Dad drove back and forth between Ohio and New Jersey 4 times I think. My mom cooked and cleaned and played with Liam and Evelyn and drove me around and dealt with my many breakdowns and weird moods brought on by medicines. She watched me fall apart and she helped me get back together again.

My sister has given up her place as the younger sister and taken over the role of older sister and completely held me up emotionally for weeks and weeks as I have wept and sobbed into the phone over and over never thinking to ask how she was doing, how her life was progressing. I just needed her and she was there.

My Dad just drove all over the United States and made do at his house, all alone. When he was here he helped keep the kids busy and he knew when I needed a hug or when I needed a laugh. And he never, ever asked for anything in return- he never does.

My husband. He stepped right up and became me, took on most of my roles in the family and maintained his all while going through the single most stressful few weeks of his entire Coast Guard career. He never once lost patience with me. He never once failed to go to the pharmacy or get me to a doctor's appointment.

The silver lining was my family.
The silver ling will always be my family. They took care of me, each of them in their own way. I love them.

Sisterly Love and Brotherly Payback

As each of our kids get a bit older and reach farther into the imagination and farther into realms of play, we are hearing more and more interesting snippets of things floating about the house sometimes. Since Evelyn is the oldest she is the ring leader and she also has the clearest speech so often her voice is the one we can make out the easiest- but not all of the time, I assure you. Here are a few examples:

• Evelyn was telling Liam's fortune with an Uno deck and Les heard that Liam would be really good at carrying luggage at an airport when he grew up.
• Liam wanted to give Ev a goodnight kiss the other night and she looked at him, shivered and said, "Let's not, let's hug, you're kind of...gross and boogery". "Oh-hay Sissy" he said and hugged her tightly and ran off to bed. 
• Everything here is Hogwarts and Harry Potter and they are frequently mixing potions in Ev's room, one day in passing I heard her say, "No! You can't touch that. You have too much monkey in you to actually MIX potions!! You just WATCH me do it and be my test subject!"
• Today while I was making lunch she had this bowl out and she was playing The Bowl Of Fire (after swallowing bitter disappointment that I was lacking a real goblet) and after boring the poor child with a long list of rules she finally got to the part and she said " And then there will be four very har...." at this point she eyes him up and down, changes her mind "Ummmm not so hard at all tasks to complete...."

We don't laugh this off and let her get away with it, we do try to keep her under control. But you have to admit she does have a certain...style. Believe me he gets back his own, his Grandparents can attest to the fact that he is not an innocent victim here. She is 8 and he is 4 and he is on the cusp of figuring out that he outweighs her (very nearly if you can believe it) and can lick her face or some other gross thing that brothers do. The very next day that she didn't want to kiss him? I had to drag him off of her because he was indeed VERY boogery and had her trapped in a corner and going in for a big back and forth smoochy woochy and enjoying it immensely, and well, she was about to have a mental break. He has also started mimicking her. Also he can just sit outside of her room and call her name over and over while she's trying to read. 

Actually if you think about it from a different angle, it's me they are after.

Also how DO little boys make so much snot?