My Overthinking

Philly Area mom, Life forever changed by adoption

The real lesson in 5th grade math

Excitement filled my kitchen when the kids got home, and the story spilled out.

The fifth grade class had taken a math test. It wasn’t unique, just their regular math assessment. When they had all been graded, Evan’s teacher asked them to do something.

“If you think you did really well on that test, stand up.”

All boys stood up. Evan did not.

He’s always struggled in math. He’s gotten extra learning support. He’s had aides help him. But, it wasn’t uncommon for math homework to end in tears. It’s never just come to him, and he knows it.

“Evan, you don’t want to stand up?” She asked him.

He shrugged his shoulders and looked away, assuming that this test was like the others.

“Everybody sit down. . . Evan, stand up.”

I wish I could have seen his face as he stood and as she told him that he and a girl in the class were the only ones to get every. question. right. I wish I could have seen his smile when he heard her words and realized that he had gotten it.

I’m glad he got to see my face as he told me, because I think my face looked a lot like his when he experienced it himself.

Past performance is the best predictor of future behavior. 

I took the Psych classes. I know that’s true. But, I also know that we can be free from past performance, that we can claim confidence in change.

It’s only a math test, one of many, I know. But, it’s a moment he won’t forget, the day he learned he isn’t bad at math, the day he learned that he can do this, that he isn’t marked as a kid who doesn’t get it, that he isn’t stuck and entrapped by what has been. It was the moment he saw hope in what is and what could be. There’s hope for great things, and he saw in that moment that we aren’t going to be surprised at all when we get to see those great things happen.



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Somewhere Between

My head is literally hurting from thinking so much, sometimes to the point of tears.

With about a dozen adoptive mamas today, I sat in a comfortable theater chair and allowed a film–Somewhere Between–about four teenage girls who were adopted from China to make me very uncomfortable. I suppose that’s a good thing.

Girls sharing about their fear of failure, of feeling like they have to prove themselves of worth. Not physically resembling their families, not ever just blending in. Stares, unfair questions, the “kindness” of a stranger at the beauty shop welcoming them to America and telling them how lucky they are. The deep rooted desire to know something, anything, about their birth families. Another girl remembering the day she was left on the street corner. Finding a birth family and seeing the bedroom she didn’t grow up in. Saying goodbye to her birthfather, a redo of the goodbye they never got to have. The cries of a 5 year old when she realizes she’s leaving all she knows to come home with her adoptive family. I can’t get her crying face out of my mind.

You can see why my head is hurting.

I found myself driving with an urgency to get home leaving the theater tonight, wanting to scoop up my baby girl and take all the hard things away. Part of me feels so stuck that I can’t.

She greeted me at the kitchen door, sat on my lap, gave me lots of kisses and chattered away about her day. She’s sleeping peacefully now in our bed, all cozied up in a nest of covers. For now, right now, there are no hard things, only comfort. And, I can look at her and take a deep breath.

Tomorrow, next week, 10 years from now, Lord, help me to be the mother she needs me to be.

 

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Drew’s first of many

Me: Come on, Drew. If it doesn’t come out tonight, you will probably lose it in school tomorrow, and that would not be so good.
Drew: No.
Me: Okay, I tell you what, if you let Daddy pull it now, I’ll give you $5.
Rest of the family: ooooo….
Drew: $6
Me: $5.50
Drew: Is that more than $5?
Me: Yes.

We shake hands. And, Daddy gets a napkin.

The rest is history. 
Pathetically, I am now finding myself sneaking into the kids’ rooms to their chore money containers and borrowing money to leave the $5.50 owed Drew. I should’ve started with $2 and gone up to $2.50. I found $5.25 in Evan’s room and left a note there so I’d pay him back. He’ll never notice. Had to take the other quarter from Drew’s own money. I’ll replenish it. Honest. 

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Adoption Journey: Part 4

There we were. A family of 5. Living the all American dream, I guess. But, there was something we just couldn’t let go of. God had brought us to the place that we were ready to adopt. And, I just couldn’t let that go.

But, Mark thought he could. It wasn’t adoption Mark had the issue with–it was 4 kids. He loved our 3, but he would have been fine to stop at 2. Four kids meant crossing over from the realm of normal to the realm of “are all those kids yours?” It meant more chaos, more noise, more money, more stress.

There was an adoption conference in our area when Drew was only a couple months old. Mark honored me, and we went to it. We sat in the back with our infant and listened from a distance. We took notes, went to breakout sessions, and then left a bit early, blaming our little guy.

A couple weeks later, we got a handwritten letter in the mail from Jason Weber who had been the speaker at the event. I laughed aloud when I read it.

Dear Mark & Kelly, 
Hello! We were glad you were able to come last Saturday to the If You Were Mine workshop!! I just had to write to let you know of the very unlikely events that transpired.
Before one of the afternoon sessions, we drew for the church orphan ministry starter pack and, Mark, we drew your name. Because you were unable to be there, we said we would recall your name at the beginning of the last session and if you were not there, we would draw another name. So, as we promised, at the beginning of the last session, we called your name once more and then drew (from a pretty large number of entries) once again. You’ll never guess who we drew this time! Yes, it was you, Kelly. When we announced your name, the audience was adamant that it was God’s will for you to have this kit. In fact, they voted unanimously to have it sent to you. 
So, we don’t know what God is up to but we are sending your kit and you should have it very soon. May you be greatly blessed!!
In Him, Jason Weber

I told Mark it was a sign. He still thought I was crazy. So, we had a lot of books about adoption now….and?…we also had a nursing baby…and a 2 year old and a 4 year old, a very challenging 4 year old.

I remembered the dream I had had years earlier–the dream about an Asian girl when I had wanted a Russian boy. Everything seemed to make sense.

I tried convincing him. I tried showing him websites related to adoption, pictures of children who moved my heart. I talked about it…a lot. And, then I remembered the lesson God taught me about 5 years earlier. So, I let it go.

Lord, change my heart or change his. Move in him to make him feel a desire to do this, or remove the desire from my heart to grow our family through adoption. 

I stopped initiating conversation about it, stopped emailing, stopped trying to make it work. If adoption came up in conversation somehow, I’d engage but not push. I just kept praying.

On Drew’s first birthday, March 29th, 2007, Mark walked in the back door into the kitchen where I was preparing dinner, and everything changed.

“We need to do it. If we don’t do it now, I think we’d be disobedient.”

“What? Do what?”

“I think we should adopt. And, I think we should start it now.”

Just like that, 2 1/2 years after I dreamed of her, we were adopting our daughter from China.

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