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My Overthinking

Philly Area mom, Life forever changed by adoption

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Everyday is Orphan Sunday to Him

11.5.12

Thousands of churches today all over the United States–around the world–recognized Orphan Sunday, a day set apart to direct people to God’s heart for the millions of orphans and vulnerable children around the world. I welcomed our church family this morning. I introduced Orphan Sunday. And, I introduced the first song we sang together. It’s not about orphans or adoption really. But, there are words that always make me pause when we sing it together.

We could never get back home with broken hearts, so home has come to meet us where we are.

I can’t sing them without being reminded of our daughter who was literally waiting with a broken heart in a room full of cribs with other children like her. She didn’t know us. And, there really wasn’t anything she could do herself to become part of a family though it was the best place for her. But, we came for her. We came and met her where she was and brought her home.

That’s the gospel. I know full well and am reminded daily that I am no savior; no adoptive parent is. Yet, I know that earthly adoption is the closest model on this side of heaven of the gospel. It just is.

There is nothing we can do to get to Him on our own, but He came and keeps coming to meet us where we are. And, when He meets us, He makes us His own.

That’s our savior–defender of the weak, father to the fatherless, toucher of the untouchables, Creator God yet Abba Father. That’s our savior.

Today is one day of the year for churches all over to highlight the needs of orphans. But, His heart beats for every single orphan, every widow, every young single mother trying to provide for her child every. single. minute. of every. single. day. That’s our savior.

Everyday is Orphan Sunday.

 



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Posted by Kelly the Overthinker
Filed Under: adoption

Dear Teachers (what I wanted to say and what I said)

11.3.12

I was tracking with her.

Lydia runs away. She can’t stay still. She’s not listening.

I nodded my head, identifying with her sympathetically, “Yeah, I know what you are seeing because we see that at home too.”

“Well, it’s not okay here.” (Apparently, time outs are though.)

Okay, no longer tracking. It was dismissal, moms were all hugging on their kids and scooping them up to head home, Lydia was nearly out the door of the building by herself and I’m finding myself starting to sweat as I want to defend our parenting and educate on the effects of early childhood trauma and subsequent parenting strategies.

What I really wanted to say, “Woah…wanna try that again with respect this time?”

Instead, I let things sit for a few days, realized that my first approach would likely not be taken and applied as I would want and that sometimes my overthinking can be productive in that it can lead to words that may help everybody involved instead. Apparently, it’s a lot easier to respond thoughtfully and with love after considering the teachers’ experience a bit more and when your 3 year old is napping peacefully in bed and you are sipping on a decaf pumpkin coffee.

___________________________________

Dear Teachers,
I’ve been thinking about the conversation we had about Lydia’s behavior in class. I wish we had had more time to chat right then and there. Since we didn’t, I hope you don’t mind me connecting with you now via email before class this coming week.

As we prepared to adopt Lydia and became aware of the unique needs of children who have experienced early trauma, we embraced new strategies to use in our family that better foster attachment and relationship while recognizing sensory and physiological makeup. We are not permissive in our strategies, but we do use strategies that may seem a bit “softer” than traditional ones. The way we see it, we can be high on structure as long as we are equally high in nurture.

Lydia is sensory seeking in most areas, meaning she physiologically craves more sensory input than the typical kiddo. She has to touch everything and moves constantly in a way that can look like hyperactivity. However, she is sensory avoiding to sounds and smells, meaning that she has a super-sensitivity that can cause significant distraction for her to noise (especially ones she’s not expecting) and good or bad smells. We realized early on that some behaviors that could be viewed as disobedient were really related more to sensory processing issues than a rebellious heart. We have found that “making her stay still,” for example, is not only frustrating for us when it doesn’t work, it also causes her to respond in a way that escalates things to rebellion. So, we make provision. For example, we have a rocking chair I keep in the car now for her to use in structured experiences where she needs to stay still. We have found that if she has the experience of motion through rocking, her craving for sensory input is satisfied and she’s able to stay more engaged in whatever is going on. We haven’t had any issues with the chair being a distraction for the rest of the class and would be glad to give this a try for your structured class time if it helps.

You also shared how she ran from you, specifically as you left the playground to come back to class. We deal with this a lot with her. Perhaps it stems from her more-than-typical need to control the situation, her sensory needs, as well as her rebellious nature! It’s impossible to totally figure that out as we look at some of her challenging behaviors. Regardless, our strategies are the same. Once I know a trigger (like leaving the playground), I’d be proactive and say to Lydia during line up, “Okay, Lydia, you have two choices [showing her my two fingers so she has some visual cues as well as auditory]: you can walk alone [pointing to the first finger] OR you can walk holding my hand [pointing to the second finger]. It’s your choice.” If she chooses walking alone, I’d say to her, “Good choice. Now, if you walk alone and I start to notice that you can’t walk in the line slowly, I’m going to have to hold your hand in the back of the line, okay?” That way, she’s making the choice herself and knows what will happen if she doesn’t hold up her end of the deal.

Does that make sense? I know it’s a lot to spell out here and a lot to ask you two who already go way beyond the call of duty to serve these kids and their moms (i.e., ME!). It would be a real blessing to us to have you able to reinforce in class what we’re doing at home. And, since she’s familiar with these strategies and we’ve seen them work for her, I’m hoping they are a blessing to you in class as well! If you see any other repeated behaviors from Lydia that need addressing, please do not hesitate to share them with me so that we can strategize together. I want to be a support to you guys as well as set Lydia up to succeed.

Looking forward to next week already,
Big hugs for all you do,
Kelly

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Posted by Kelly the Overthinker
Filed Under: adoption, attachment, why can't they just stay little forever

I am not a surrogate

10.17.12

This is a surrogate–a person appointed to act for another, a substitute. 

This is what I am: 
A parent–a person who brings up or cares for another (in my case, 4 others). 
A mother–nurturer, caregiver, cheerleader, advocate, teacher, nosewiper, lunchmaker, clotheswasher, songsinger, bookreader, playmate, captive audience member, storyteller, memorymaker and memorykeeper, one held responsible for a child’s wellbeing. 
Yes, I wasn’t her original parent. But, I’m certainly not a substitute mother just as she is not my substitute daughter. 
We’re the real thing. 

Hello there, this is my daughter. 
So nice to meet you. 
I’m her mother. 

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Posted by Kelly the Overthinker
Filed Under: adoption, Lydia

Somewhere Between

10.14.12

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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Posted by Kelly the Overthinker
Filed Under: adoption, China

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