How Am I Doing?

How am I doing?

I’m asked that a lot.

I don’t think that I “look” like I’m doing okay. It reminds me of the time after my 2^nd child was born. It was about 2 weeks after his birth and I was dropping something off at a friend’s house. While I was there, another friend asked me, “Have you been exercising?” {I was in an old t-shirt, with my hair unwashed, huffing and puffing… and no makeup.} I replied, “No. This is what 2 kids looks like!” None of the friends at her house had experienced 2 kids yet. In all actuality, it was only the first few weeks that were crazy. I’m sure it had to do with having a 5 ½ lb baby who projectile vomited regularly and a 3 year old who wasn’t fond of him yet.

Fast forward to yesterday. I had to deliver a business order and buy groceries. I took 4 kids. The cashier at Trader Joe’s was enamored by my hosting story, continually asking me questions. About 3 minutes in, you could tell he wasn’t enamored anymore. Iceman kept saying “Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!” pointing at everything. The cashier made a few low comments about how exhausting this experience must be. In all fairness, it was these kids’ first experience in an American store and they wanted EVERYTHING. Okay. Iceman wanted everything. And he was vocal about it. But, how can you take two skinny orphans to a store and not want to buy them their hearts’ desire? He made some comments to me about not knowing how I could do this and that I’m a better person than he is. Then, he let them take numerous items from the treasure box, instead of just the one.

Then there was today. We went to a firework stand. Before getting out of the car, I told them they needed to be quieter. They were. They were good, but there was no way to communicate with them. The man behind the counter kept asking me what they wanted. I hadn’t a clue. I never do. Unless they can literally put their finger on something, I don’t know what they want. He asked me a few questions about them, then snuck me a few boxes of free fireworks in my bag as I left. We’re not talking about the buy-one-get-one-free items, but some pretty flowers and stuff he thought Sunshine might like (you know, my well-behaved child).

Do these people feel sorry for me? Do they genuinely want to help and figure the best way is to at least “throw us a bone” with some free items? Do I look like as scary as I did that 2^nd week after my youngest was born?

Who knows? I know that I am suppressing some unknown emotions right now. The way my clothes are fitting is confirming that. I don’t know all the emotions I am feeling right now, but for some reason I keep grabbing that ice cream scoop. Is it all the unknown in this? I don’t truly know where these kids came from. I don’t know what they expect from us. I don’t know what it’s going to be like when they go home.

I want to be as candid as possible about this experience.

The last couple days, I have been tired. I have been sooooo tired. 

It’s my fault, as I had booked a 252 baseball cakeball groom’s order about 6 months ago and it snuck up on me. On Wednesday afternoon, I attempted to work from home with the four kids. It wasn’t great. It was then that my sons decided that Iceman is not very nice. Iceman does have a little temper, but I’ll mention more about that down below.

I thought this might be a place to write my perception of each member of our family of 6.

Let’s start with dad.

My husband has been unbelievable. In fact, in my eyes, he has become “super dad”. He is so loving, patient and kind with these kids. He seems like he truly loves to be around them. He is hugging them and making them smile. He is doing puzzles with them and teaching them. He is incredible. 

My oldest child is confused. Why does he get in trouble, but Iceman doesn’t? Well, he knows right from wrong, and Iceman doesn’t seem to… or Iceman’s pushing boundaries. How come he has to behave at all times or else he is punished? Also, for being my oldest, he hasn’t been as helpful as I’d anticipated. If I ask him to do something directly for our host kids, he gets easily sidetracked. He has become poutier than ever in his life. I don’t know if this is due to his age or if this is because of our guests. Let’s be real… it’s just Iceman. Iceman makes us laugh, so J tries to mimic him. But J doesn’t know how annoying he sounds so we ask him to stop. He feels like we don’t enjoy him, but laugh at Iceman. Ahh… trying to balance all the emotions for 4 kids. Have I mentioned how tired I am?

Iceman is just like someone I’ve met before. He is that European or even Middle Eastern gypsy/street kid. He is the boy who is always hanging on me, attempting to charm me to get his way. It’s not in a nasty way. It’s in a similar way to all the kids I’ve experienced on the streets in South America, Europe or Israel. He’s adorable, like they are. He makes you laugh. He is sweet. I’ve experienced many “Icemen” at the orphanages I’ve visited in various countries. He’s the one that’s jumping up and down when the missionaries arrive and the first to greet everyone. 

However, Iceman is hurting. You can see it. He has yanked things out of my boys’ hands and hit them. It hasn’t been major… it has just been like a “toddler”. It is just like we were taught in our training. Bringing orphans over here can be like having toddlers in your house. Oh, and I had mentioned one of his translated words sounding just like a curse word in our country in another blog post. Well, about ¼ of the time, that word means “here” and ¾ of the time, he is cussing. I came to this realization last night when he was using my SayHi app and trying to say all the English words he knew. It only knows English, so he said G*4 D@7# {I’m not going to write it out, but he said two words that have never come out of my mouth in over 40 years} and showed me it, laughing. My face turned white. When I look back, I don’t know why the blood rushed out of my face. These kids don’t have the same belief system as we do. How would I expect them to have the same morals and language as we do? I talked with him about what God means to our family and that we don’t use His name that way.

After that moment, it was like I had a radar. He cusses A LOT. A WHOLE LOT. His curse words are said with an accent, so they’re harder to hear. Now that I know his accent, I hear them. I don’t like them. I have told him that I don’t like them. I have told them that we like to use kind language around our house. Sunshine gets very mad at him when he says them. I believe it’s something that can change because he’s very receptive to my stern voice. He’s very loving and he really beams joy around the house. There are just these few little things that we’re having issues with. All in all, he’s still wonderful and fun.

And what about Sunshine? Sunshine is the sweetest little creature I have had the pleasure of loving. She is so shy. She’s more shy than I have ever experienced. She wants to show us all that she has drawn or created, but won’t look at us when she does. She will turn her head in the opposite direction, just so she won’t see our reactions. She covers her face with her hands if you’re talking directly to her. She’ll bury her head if you want to have a conversation with her. She is extremely modest. The mentor FB page with all the other host parents shares story after story of their host girls wanting stiletto heels, bikinis and slutty clothing. My 12 year old wants a rash guard and swim skirt. Where these other 11 year old host girls want makeup and their hair done, she has no desire. She doesn’t want me to even put lotion on her sunburned, peeling skin.  She is very fun and playful and she has a beautiful smile. She also likes to help me sweep! 

I’m worried about her, however. She breathes heavily. My doctor friend, Vanessa told me that it’s probably due to enlarged tonsils and adenoids. She said that malnourished, skinny kids often have that problem and that she would probably feel so much better after she had them out. I’m sure that won’t be happening in her current situation in Eastern Europe. That makes me sad. She is a dream kid. She is a lovely addition to our family.

Our youngest also loves Sunshine. She is a great "big sister" to him. If he is hurt, she's the first one to console him. They are both quieter and enjoy the same things. The thing that I have noticed about Z is that he doesn’t like sharing with the host kids. This makes me upset. He said that Iceman had his lego the other day. “Mom, what if he steals it?! What if he takes it back home with him?” I said, “Then you tell your grandparents, who give you everything you’ve ever wanted in life, and you’ll have a new lego in 30 minutes.” 
Seriously?! That is one thing that Ray and I have agreed on: Our kids are SELFISH! I know. I know. I shouldn’t judge them like adults, but c’mon. I feel the assessment is simple –

You and your brother have everything you need.

These other children don’t. 

Just looking at them is evidence of that. You can tell by the rotting teeth and boney bodies that they haven’t been taken care of. You can tell by the way that they act, that they have to take care of each other because there’s no one really there for them.

Lastly, there’s me. What are my thoughts? How am I doing? I feel like I’ve already written it out above. I wish my husband didn’t have to work as many hours and could be with them more. He’s such a good dad to them. I wish my kids would behave more and cherish this very limited time we have with our host children. I wish I had more energy so my patience level wasn’t so thin, at times. I wish Iceman would stop cussing… and whining… and lying about brushing his teeth. {How many times do I have to show him how I touch his bristles to see if they are wet?} I wish Sunshine wouldn’t try so hard to be perfect. You can tell she’s trying her best {I believe} so that we will adopt them. She has drawn pictures about it and has said a few things about wanting to stay forever. She gets so mad at Iceman when he behaves poorly because it’s like “he’s ruining her plan.” 

Throughout all of this, I’d say things are good.  We are a week in and we are all still smiling. That has to mean something!


My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. Psalm 73:26