The "F" Word

Ahhhh...gotcha on this one!  Bettin' you are thinking I am going to write about "Family" or "Friends" or even "Fun".

Nope.

It's the actual "F" word!  Let me explain...

Last night, after an evening spent visiting with my best buddy around a fire pit filled with charred, dropped marshmallows, we ended up with just our "oldies" at home.  Olesya, Angela and Matthew were left home while Josh and Kenny went to sleep over at their friend's house.  The door was barely closed when the kids all said "This feels WEIRD!" because it was too quite.  You see, Josh and Kenny play all day long...and they play Super Heroes, or Kings and Knights, or Cops and Robbers.  They are so imaginative and are always acting out some scene they have written in their minds right on the spot.  Josh will play this way by himself as well, happily replying when asked what he is doing "Mom, I am playing with my body!" and then off he goes to pretend smack down some villain with a TaeKwonDo kick to the head...hahaha!

Somehow, we have managed to keep our kids fairly innocent.  Don't be fooled though, for innocent is NOT naive.  We tend to have what some might consider odd boundaries around our home.  For example, you all know that sex has been explained multiple times and in many ways, body parts are named appropriately, and we don't hesitate to speak about them using the right terms.  It is not unheard of at all for me to say something like "I need to get my breasts out of the way when shooting archery...they might get hurt!" and hear a little laughter, or for the kids to say "Why can't parents just call it a 'penis' instead of a 'winkie'?" (they thought that was totally hilarious.).  What has the result been?  As was commented in the car by Kenny the other day after we talked about some sign we saw somewhere that was overly revealing of a woman's anatomy "Mom, I don't get it, why does everyone have to show everything all the time?  I mean, good grief, it's just breasts and penises.  Sometimes adults act like little kids about sex stuff."

Which was exactly the sort of attitude I had hoped to develop in our kids, one of natural acceptance of bodies, parts and functions...not the sort of typical teen obsessed and overly fascinated with all things S-E-X.  Our kids think bodies are beautiful and not so beautiful, that sex can be wonderful and amazing and yet also can be used to replace real love by those who yearn for what they don't have.  We actually have had several conversations about this, with examples ready all around us, sadly, of how people confuse love with sex.

However, after all this kind of openness, we do not allow them to watch scenes in movies or on TV, saying it is inappropriate to film something that is intimate like that, as it cheapens what is a precious thing.  In fact, I have had Angela and Olesya on more than one occasion come to me when watching something PG13 and say "We turned it mom, it ended up having some sex stuff in it."...because now days even PG13 can utterly surprise you.

We are the same with violence.  We do not tend to allow the kids to watch overly violent things or play them in video games...no gratuitous violence is allowed, no "Grand Theft Auto".  Where do we draw the line?  Actually, in a place most would be surprised.  We do allow violence to be shown if it reflects real life such as  war movies (We just watched Saving Private Ryan), drug or alcoholic behavior, or genocide.  Why?  We are very intentional about wanting the kids to see the evil in the world and to understand A) What we hope to protect them from, B)  That there is nothing at all glamorous about war and we all should do what we can to promote peace, C)  Drugs and heavy alcohol use can lead to terrible, terrible things happening, D)  The evil in the world causes mankind to harden hearts and evil begets evil unless someone stands up and says "Stop...no more", E)  Humans are capable of things we can't even imagine and we need to shield ourselves by not engaging in activity that can lead us to do the same.

In other words, violence for the sake of violence in our media is not something we allow, but violence for instructional purposes is.  It is very hard for a child to picture in their head what "genocide" is, but seeing a movie like "Hotel Rwanda" makes it perfectly clear.  Honestly, it is after viewing such things or showing photos of such things for school purposes that we have some of our most moving conversations, such as the one triggered by looking at the iconic photo of the 9 year old girl running from napalm during the Vietnam War.  That photo turned the tide in many ways, and it can turn hearts as well even today.  I want our kids hearts moved, not hardened, and sometimes nudging hearts means that at 4 years old, you don't hide the people scavenging out of trash cans when we took Matt when we adopted Josh...he now knew what real hunger truly meant.

So, while our kids might be homeschooled and some might assume they are more "sheltered" than others, they actually are not naive at all about most things.  Then there are the other things, that thankfully they ARE naive about, as was proven last night.

We are all sprawled on the couch, vegging and visiting as Dominick begins to snore softly with his head on Matt's shoulder, when Angela asks "Mom, what does the middle finger mean?  I heard about it and saw it in Kazakhstan, but I don't know what it means."  and Olesya chimes in "Yea, I don't know either.  What's so bad about it?".  Matthew starts to chuckle, waiting to see how I handle this one, for thanks to several kids in 3rd and 4th grade in his class he already knew vaguely what it meant...and that it wasn't any good.  Imagine his surprise when I boldly say "It is a symbol for the word F-CK, which means to have sex." and he laughed out loud at how matter-of-fact I was as the girls both squealed out "Ewwwww...!!!!" and Angela said "And THAT is what people are always running around saying?  That is stupid, and icky!"  I then proceeded to share with them the various ways in which people use it such as "F- Off", "F- You", "F-in' cool", etc.  Well, you get the drift.  And that led into another conversation about how casual people are about their language, and how it becomes habit for them without thinking to say certain things.

Now, I am not at all virtuous with my mouth, sad to say, and growing up in Southern California means that I heard waaaaayyyy more "F- You's" than I should have.  However, over time and with having children around 100% of my day, my language in front of them is generally very clean, with only the occasional word released when I stub a toe or some such event, and even then it is whispered under my breath if I can help it.  We talked about "Giving the bird" and "Flipping off" being terms people use for giving the middle finger, and we laughed over my sharing how in Southern California it is totally acceptable and typical for people to flip people off when driving if they get mad at someone.  They thought that was so stupid, and it is.

The funny thing is that now that our kids are removed from the cultural norm of pre-teen and teenage years in public education, I am realizing all the learning that goes on that is not necessarily good, but IS necessary to keep them from being naive.  While I don't want them surrounded by kids casually throwing out vulgar language (And really, what parent DOES want that?), I also don't want them moving into adulthood being clueless about the words they hear used, or being naive about the things that might go on behind closed doors.  They would not be able to function in our world well if they had no idea about such things!  So what does this mean for us?  Well, we have lessons of another kind, which might also surprise some folks.  We spent an hour recently in front of the white board as I wrote down all the various less-than-classy names for body parts that are used daily.  Yup, I wrote columns with titles like "Breasts", "Penis" and "Sex" and then underneath wrote all the terms I knew of for them and we talked about it, giggled about it, and explained them.  Then, of course, I threatened them with death should I hear those words coming out of their mouths, and I told them that they were way too intelligent to speak that way :-)

Definitely not your typical middle school sex ed class, but then we already know all the "real" stuff.

You know what?  I am so, so grateful to have a Mom who was uncomfortable about such things and yet forced herself to be open and honest about answering my questions and providing information.  What I learned from that was that information in and of itself is not bad, does not lead kids astray, etc.  It is all in attitude and how that information is presented.  Information presented without values and explanations attached is what I want to avoid.  Sure, one benefit of homeschooling is that our kids aren't being exposed to certain behaviors at the ever-increasingly lower ages that is happening all around us today.  I'll admit that.  However, regardless of people's incorrect assumptions and categorization that every homeschooler is homeschooling to indoctrinate their kids and to shelter them from the world, those things were not even on our list really at all as reasons for homeschooling.

We simply wanted our kids to have as much of a childhood as we could manage to salvage for them.  We wanted material presented with morals.  We wanted to customize their education so that any child could work at whatever level they actually were at in any subject.  That's all.  And I laugh as I type this and realize that 3 years ago when we began homeschooling, I never thought about having to fill in the cultural gaps and give my kids a "Naughty Words 101" class!

I like THIS one the best though, for truthfully these are the naughty words I don't EVER want my kids saying:

1100!

1100 posts.
1100 of life's seemingly insignificant, yet oh-so-precious moments recorded.
1100 times over the past 5 years that I have sat down and intentionally thought about our family.
1100 times I hit "Publish".
1100 tears that must have fallen as I shared the painful and the powerful things I have observed about love.
1100 titles I had to come up with and not repeat myself!
1100 hours of lost sleep, oh wait, that is probably more like 11,000 hours!
1100 times many of you have read about us, no wonder you feel you know us.
1100 moments x 10 when I have thanked God for all that we have been blessed with.
1100 reasons to continue to blog, I can't quit now!
1100 times I have wished my blog were "cooler".
1100 new friends I must have made along the way!
1100 more things recorded than would have ever been done if I had tried to scrapbook.
1100 ways I said "I love you" to my husband and children.

1100...there is a lot in those 1100 posts.  Here's to 1100 more!

Revisiting Cindy

I just spent the past week in sunny Southern California, land of my childhood and still home of my mom!  I was there visiting for a few days that I tacked on to a work trip, as I was working at a homeschool show in Long Beach this past weekend.  It was the perfect opportunity to combine two into one, so Dominick pulled  triple duty as Chief Bottle Washer/Teacher/Bread Winner!  We had a conversation before I left about how surprisingly helpful it has been for our marriage over the years to regularly switch roles.  You all know how often he steps up at home, and fills in when needed.  In many ways we are interchangeable in that regard, except for there is just something a little  softer about Mommy Love :-)  What you may not realize is that in years past I have spent just as much time in his roles too.  I have detailed cars...plenty of them!  I have run our second airport cafe for several winters while he ran his.  This role reversal might just be the single best thing we have ever done to  foster real understanding and compassion about how difficult each of our jobs really is.  When I say I have had a rough day at home, he gets it because he has experienced it and doesn't think for a moment that my job is an easy one.  When he comes in totally beat after a long hot day, I get it because I know just how exhausting it can be.

A big plus is that the kids also know it, for they too have walked a little in Dominick's shoes.  They recently have all done some detailing with Dominick, working long hot days.  They have worked in the restaurant since the day they could, and now are as valuable there as many of our adult employees have been.  What I see developing in them because of these opportunities is a respect for work, and a respect for those who work to provide an education, food and clothes for them.  They have seen first hand how difficult it is to earn the money that puts food on the table and clothes on their back, and they don't take it for granted. Although they can't as easily slip on Mom's role as educator, their own effort at school helps them understand that "brain work" isn't necessarily easy either, even when it seems on the outside to be simple.  Believe it or not, more than once when I have "pulled an all nighter" planning a unit study, or researching curriculum, I have actually been thanked by the kids.

So anyway, there I was, driving up the 101 Freeway (and trying hard not to forget and call it "highway" as we do back in Colorado), in this cute little Nissan Versa and enjoying driving a non-mom car for even a little while, and on the radio is playing songs from my teen years.  A little Aerosmith, some Lover Boy, a Styx song, and it was SO SO SO strange!  I actually drove right past our old high school, whose football field is alongside the 101.  Maybe it was the time of year, so near graduation.  Maybe it was re-entry in a small way into the life I once lived.  Maybe it was being and feeling old these days as my right hip gives me fits from arthritis and my arms are no longer long enough to help me read print clearly.  Whatever the reason, I felt as if I was straddling two worlds, and recalling the dreams of my youth while contrasting them with the reality that has become my life is an interesting place to find myself right now.

Never, in a million years, did I ever imagine my life turning out the way it has.  Never could I have known the plans God had for my life.  I thought I'd always live in Southern California, no matter how ill fitting it actually was.  I thought I'd have the requisite two kids before I was 25, which would have meant that by now my imaginary children would be in college.  I thought I'd have a career of some sort, although what that might be was not at all apparent upon my graduation and I had vague images of photography or teaching hard of hearing children.  Later it was perhaps business management at the drug store I worked at, then it was management at the pest control company I worked at.  None of those dreams were ever all that flashy, they were rather ordinary.

The main thing that I prayed for was a life filled with love and happiness.  Little did I realize at the time what a tall order that really was.  It took living life awhile to recognize how hard that might be to come by, as I watched over and over again as lives around me took painful turns, and were mired in joyless chasing of the Almighty Dollar and the American Dream, which seemed to have grown to include a Mercedes in every garage and a house with 4000 square feet with a swimming pool.  The farming community I had grown up in had become a very prosperous city, and with it came bigger and bigger desires.

Here I sit, 25 years later, evaluating the twists and turns that led my life to where it is today.  What have I done with my life?  What have I really accomplished?  I am a high school graduate, an unemployed homeschooling Mom who spends her days picking up dirty socks, correcting grammar workbooks, and asking for the 22nd time for someone to please shut the door!  I have no fancy diploma on the wall, no claim to fame, no diseases cured, and nothing at all to brag about should anyone care to listen.  Interestingly though, the ways in which I defined success when I was young are still the ways I define success today.  Oh, I am certain that any alumni present at a reunion from my own graduating class might look and scoff.  There would be many of us, I am sure, who would be placed in the "Loser" category for what we don't have to show for 25 years of living post-high school.

The success I have though is exactly what I chose to chase.  It isn't measurable in the same ways.  That life filled with love and happiness is no longer a dream, but has long been a reality...one I absolutely do not take for granted.  Those two kids of the dreams of my senior year Family Class somehow morphed into five, and the faces that greet me every morning are far more beautiful than Dominick or I could have ever produced ourselves, even if they look nothing like us at all.  We have a decent home with space around us that helps us feel somehow freer.  We have laughter...so much laughter!!!  There is always a hand to help, and a hug to share.  There is love spoken here, not just occasionally, but hourly, and sometimes moment by moment.

My success is not at all in what I wear, what I drive, or the furnishings that surround me.  As I took that long look back this past week, as my youth came rushing back to me in the familiar scents of smog and oleander, and the unceasing sounds of traffic off in the not-so-far distance, I smiled. No, I am not even close to living the life I once imagined for myself, and how awesome it is that I was not limited by those undersized dreams!

But it was just yesterday evening when I really understood that I had truly achieved the kind of success that has meaning and value.  The girls and I were out on a little jaunt, alone without the menfolk as we stopped by our church and then the grocery store for a couple of items.  Somehow the conversation turned to relationships, and what makes them work.  I spoke of how very blessed we are to have the kinds of conversations in our family on a daily basis that some families are never able to have.  Angela asked "Why are we like that, Mom, and others aren't?" and I said "Courage, Angela.  It takes a lot of courage to reveal your heart to others, to risk being laughed at for sharing what you really feel.  It isn't easy, and I think in some families the parents themselves don't understand that it is important that they let their children see inside their hearts to teach the kids how to do the same thing.  They want to hide things, they want to always look strong and not look vulnerable or weak."

Angela got really quiet, then as we pulled into the driveway she looked over at me with tears in her eyes and said "I am so glad you and Dad are my parents.  Before I came home, I never showed anyone my feelings, it didn't feel safe.  Now, I always want to, and you always seem to understand.  It's like my heart is really open for the first time, and it feels good, even though it was scary at first.  I have the best family in the whole world, not just because I got adopted, but because I got adopted by THIS family."

That's a kind of success that the 17 year old Cindy couldn't have possibly understood.

Staring Back

I posted a comment on Facebook last night about something that happened, and it generated a lot of conversation.  I thought I'd continue the conversation here where it can be more than a mere paragraph at a time.  For those who aren't my FB friends, let me explain.

Yesterday evening, the kids had their TaeKwonDo tests, they ran quite late, and so we went to the nearby McDonald's for a quick dinner.  Matthew had a meeting he had to attend for Civil Air Patrol there for planning with a few of the young men, so we thought it would kill two birds with one stone.  We get out of the car and start walking toward the restaurant, and before we even enter both Angela and I see this gaggle of high school aged girls with their father staring and pointing at us.  Hmm....OK, so there are 5 kids in TKD uniforms, maybe that looked kind of funny, I get that.

It didn't end there.  As we walk in and stand in line, the staring continues with more pointing and whispering behind hands, accompanied by giggles.  Mind you, these were not young girls, these were older high school aged kids.  I elect to ignore them, but Angela us growing more and more disturbed. Olesya and Kenny notice but are in conversation and don't realize how ongoing it is.

We get back to the table and Angela says to me "Mom, that was way overboard...did you see how they were making fun of us and wouldn't stop staring?  I am used to people staring at us, but that was too much."  Thankfully, she is my girl filled with confidence and instead of making her shy and totally uncomfortable, it actually angered her.  She then said "What is so wrong with us?  We're just a family, it's like people sometimes never have seen adopted families before and that's just silly.  Adopted families are all over the place so it isn't new or anything."

We had a long talk about appropriate behavior in public, about staring at anyone who is different for some reason and how it makes them feel.  We also talked about how lacking in diversity our area of the country is, and that the girls "pass" as bio kids but the boys don't.  Angela said "Yea Mom, but it's not like we live in Kazakhstan or something, where they don't want Kazakhs and Russians together.  Here in America it is just stupid for people to stare at us, we're just a family."

I had just told Dominick a couple weeks ago that I have noticed that the attention we receive has totally ramped up and I am completely stumped as to why.  It isn't a good thing, not at all, for it is often to the point of rudeness we experienced last night.  Now, I know those of you in urban areas are likely not to believe this, and are thinking I am exaggerating, but believe me I am not.  I have spent the past 11 years being stared at more often than not when I am out with my children, but when they were young it was sort of cute curiosity.  People would ask questions, and while sometimes I would get a little tired of feeling on display, it was all fairly benign.

I can not understand what has changed as the kids have gotten older.  I have not said anything to Matthew, but I have discovered the past several months that when I am out alone with him these days I am getting almost nasty looks.  Considering I have been subjected to this for years, I am not sensitive to it, it is that it is newly changed.  He has yet to notice it, but soon enough he will...as will Josh and Kenny.

I joke about being mistaken for being a foreign exchange school group, but in all seriousness it has happened no less than 5 times....and that's when we are not out on a homeschool field trip wearing our shirts and when people even hear the kids call me "mom".  It's like they somehow can't quite imagine a family looking like us, and frankly, as bad as it has been getting the past couple of months I am running out of compassion and patience. As I said in my short FB post, we are NOT a traveling freak show and I don't like being treated like it everywhere we go.

Some of my FB friends suggested that maybe it was people interested in adoption, or that they are fascinated by us.  That might be true part of the time, but not always.  It's almost as if I don't have the right to put my arm around the shoulder of my Asian son in public.  It's almost as if we don't have the right to exist as a family.  I am not the horribly over-sensitive type of female, believe me, but this is really starting to get downright offensive sometimes.  I am not talking about the honest mistakes, where store clerks handing out samples innocently assume we are not together, or where restaurant hosts want to divide us and place us in two separate areas of the restaurant (happens OFTEN) until we explain we are altogether.  I can totally understand why that happens and that doesn't bother me.  But this is different.

When you live in a county with 41,000 people (our city is much smaller, around 17,000 I think) and .6% is Asian, I guess it is to be expected.  Yea, you read that right .6% not 6%.  But you'd think that simple exposure to media today would make us less of a sideshow.   Haha!  I just realized, that as compared to the Occupy movement we are even lower....we aren't the 1%, we are the Less Than One Percent!

So as we move into this new phase as a family, I have some thinking to do about how to handle this, because it is obvious it isn't going to change and might only get worse.  On FB it was suggested that I walk up to people and initiate a conversation and offer an explanation to satisfy curiosity.  That might work, I suppose, but then I would be doing it almost every single time we are out together as a family, no kidding, and I guess I don't want to place myself in the role of "Official Ambassador for International or Transracial Adoption" just because I am going to City Market and want to get a gallon of milk.  I just want to be what I am, Mom.  I want our kids to be just kids, not "those adopted kids", but I have a feeling that as this increases, that is just not going to happen.

Many of you may wonder why we try to get out of our area as often as we do, why Team LaJoy always seems to be going someplace or headed out on the road on another adventure.  There are a lot of reasons that have nothing at all to do with being on display all the time, but in part it is because we need our kids to see the larger world where there is diversity.  We absolutely have to go someplace where we can walk down the street and be relatively anonymous with no one giving us a second glance, because that sure doesn't happen often at home.  We need to be someplace where no one questions our validity as a family, where I am not asked if I am babysitting my own children, where sometimes it is actually even assumed we ARE a family.  We need them to see people of all colors (our county's African American population is even smaller at .4%) and to view them as beautiful and lovely, just like our family is.  Angela and I still laugh over her declaring in her very limited English while we were in the Frankfurt Airport bringing theme home "Mama...Look...BLACK!" as she pointed and loudly talked about a person of obvious African descent...because she had never seen one before.

I guess I just don't want my own children being like those we encountered last night, whose lives have been so limited by their environment that they find a need to point, stare, and giggle at that which is different.

For now, I guess we just ignore it, educate when the opportunity arises, and try hard not to get angry at having our family sometimes not even seen as a family.  If someone thinks it is weird for a middle aged white woman to be out with a teenaged Asian boy, then that is their problem, not mine.  Where it becomes a problem is when our kids are affected by it, and then we will need to address this differently.  Last night was perhaps the beginning in a series of long conversations about race in our family.  Sad, that in 2012 there is even a need for that at all.

My Chrysalis, Olesya

Those of you who know the LaJoy's in person recognize the truth in the statement that there are no shrinking violets among us.  We are not necessarily a group of "in your face" folks (Well, Dominick, our lone Chicago Italian might beg to differ), but despite the lack of genetic connection somehow we all escaped the "shy" gene.  But one of us is missing a very important component, the confidence factor, and Olesya is the one we all are worried most about.

Olesya is our one child who knows herself the least, who lacks a sense of certainty.  A long conversation with Kenny and Angela a couple days ago was so insightful as they both expressed concern that someday someone would take advantage of Olesya, and that she might never grow to see herself as valuable and strong.  It is so clear to all of us.  People tend to assign themselves roles in a family...the smart one...the cute one...the little one...the troubled one.  In our family that is a little harder to define due to adopting out of birth order and the natural issues each of our children face, and over and over again Dominick and I reinforce that there are no "roles" in our family, only smart and loving kids living together to be a family.  We have no favorites, but highlight that in our own unusual way, by saying on any given day over any silly thing "Oh wow, you are TOTALLY my favorite kid today!", and of course that rotates as we make certain every kid gets a chance often to have the title "Favorite".  Said something nice about someone?  You're the Fav of the Day.  You went to the fridge and grabbed me a Diet Coke?  Ah, then YOU are the Fav of the Day!  We make a joke about it, including every kid at different times for all kinds of little reasons, and it ironically shows that there is no one "favorite" child in our family.  The kids crack up, and sometimes will even look up at me, like Angela did just yesterday and say "Does that make me the favorite today??" and they all know that if they ask, that automatically disqualifies them...and they love it.

The problem is that no matter how hard we try, Olesya has assigned herself the role of "Honorary Dumb Blonde".  She sees herself as incompetent, and follows through by asking ridiculous questions to get attention or  to try and be funny.  We have done everything in our power to encourage her and to discourage the remarks that make you want to roll your eyes.  Even the kids will say to her "Olesya, you are smarter than that, that's not funny.".  The truth is though that we recognize she will likely never change until she has some sense of herself, until she defines for herself who she is.

Further making this a challenge is that the areas in which she has gifts and is instinctively drawn to are areas which our culture no longer values...domesticity and motherhood.  Let's face it, today our expectations of a woman are that she excel in a career, and her running of her home life is often second banana.  But Olesya is not built that way.  She is a nurturer and a caretaker, she is the rest of the mommy in this family...the parts that I am not innately good at!  When we go someplace, her self-assigned job is to make certain all water bottles and snacks are packed.  What do I do? Look at the kids and say "there's the cupboard, get your bottle...if you forget that's your problem!".  She is the personal reminder for us all of everything we need in any situation, and makes sure we have whatever that might be.  It's as natural as breathing for her.  She loves baking and organizing, and although very intelligent, she is simply not all that engaged by academic pursuits.  In a gaggle of kids who all are surprisingly pretty interested in a variety of things academic (For goodness sake, we just started a unit on government because the kids ASKED for it!), her own neutrality on the whole world of academia makes her feel a little "less then", even though no one else has ever intentionally made her feel that way.  So, I guess she takes that and runs with it as a way to claim a role for herself.

However, last night we just may have taken a big step forward.

Yesterday evening, I found myself sitting at a table with Olesya and another student my age taking a class on Beginning Cake Decorating.  I can hear the laughter from here, from those who know my own ineptitude in the kitchen.  Oh yes, I was surrounded by little metal tips, covered in powdered sugar, and learning the trade secrets of how to bake the perfect cake.  I was deep in discussion about the proper methods for cooling cakes down, and the coolest little secret for having flat tops.

Was it because I have some deep rooted need to learn cake decorating.  Uhhh...not so much.  Was it because I am looking for a second career?  Nope, I have enough on my plate already.  Was it because of some inner artist screaming to claw its way out?  That even has ME laughing out loud...no, it is definitely not that.

The reason I was sitting in that class last night, and will possibly for the next SIXTEEN weeks as we work our way through all the Wilton courses is...

Because I love my daughter with everything that is in me, even my nonexistent inner artist, and I would do anything, I mean ANYTHING, to help her see herself as talented, precious and treasured by me. So treasured, in fact, that I am willing to risk looking like a complete idiot doing something that is so far off my radar for things I would ever pursue (Web site design is more up my alley), that I would still spend 48 hours over the course of the next SIXTEEN weeks taking classes and driving to the next town over.

And you know what?  I LOVED IT!  Olesya talked more in the car than she ever has, she thanked me profusely over and over again for doing this with her.  She said several times how much fun it was to be alone with me and to do something special together.  We talked about her desire to own a bakery someday, or some other business of her own...and how easy it would be for her to do with her gifts!  We talked about how she could decorate cakes on the side while staying home with her children someday, and how that would help her be the stay at home mom I think she might really want to be.

Better yet, I decided to jump in the deep end, after all if I am going to do this for the next sixteen weeks, I am not going to suffer through it, I am going to make a decision (for we can do that, you know) to enjoy it!  We got all giggly and girlie looking at the various pans and tools, we plotted and schemed about how we were going to present a few little items to Daddy when we came back home and beg his forgiveness for purchasing them (with me knowing all along that he would never mind at all!), and we drooled over the beautiful cakes shown in the various idea magazines that were shared.  Actually, it was hard NOT to get into the whole thing!  The instructor for the class is a fast talking gal with personality plus, and the other student is a total hoot and perhaps just a few years older than I am. We all laughed so much, and I am more than willing to take on the role myself of class clown and dunce so that Olesya can share her skills and be my personal tutor (not that I am faking it too much, mind you).

What really got me was when I had to stop and explain something in easier terms to Olesya, and explained to the other tow ladies quickly that Olesya only had two years of English so I might need to do that from time to time.  The other student looked shocked and said "She isn't yours?" and I said "Well, she is now, but  I didn't give birth to her, we adopted Olesya and her sister two years ago."  The instructor said "I never would have guessed it, she looks like she could be your biological daughter!"...and I looked over at Olesya who had the biggest smile I have ever seen on her face.  The claiming of one another as our own still continues, still blesses, still amazes, even in such little ways.

So, I know have homework to do, and we will do it side by side, mother and daughter, pretending we know what we are doing and making a huge mess along the way.  Maybe, the real Olesya will emerge and reveal herself to be the butterfly we know her to be.  The awkward tween stage, the acne, the "I could care less how I look" because she wants to play and not worry about older girl things...all of that is even harder for her I think.  But her family knows what's hidden from the world, her family sees the bright, caring, amazing woman that will one day find herself standing strong.  And her mother will do her best to see to it that the woman standing before us one day IS that strong, capable, self-assured person...or at least closer to it than the young girl who thinks she is nothing special.

You ARE special, Olesya!

And you know what I love most about my husband?  You know why, in large part, we have been successful with helping ease our kids into their adoptive family?  It's because he didn't blink when I shared with him what the cost of the class was, or last night when we came home with a few other items.  He didn't say "Well the course is too expensive, why don't we just send her and you stay home."  Dominick gets it, in every single possible way.  He knows this isn't really optional, but is as much a necessity as the milk we need in the fridge tomorrow.  He recognizes that every one of our children is reached differently, and how imperative it is that we do so.  What did he do when we got home?  He sat down at the table and "oohed" and "ahhed" over all the little tips and tools we drug home.  He got in the moment with us, he didn't for a second complain about how hard it is to afford this.  For families like ours, such things are not a luxury.  The only way I can ever reach Olesya is to meet her where she "lives", and we have a far more limited amount of years to do that than others do.  Affording something like a cake decorating class might not be labeled as "family therapy" to some, but for us that is the category it falls in.

The payoff?  From the outside it never appears to be worth it.  The way the LaJoy family "invests" always seems foolhardy, but then most wouldn't find the words "Mommy, thank you SO much for doing this with me.  I can't believe I get to spend this much time with you by myself!  I know you are busy, and I am so happy you are doing this with me.  Maybe I'll get good at it!  Maybe someday I can sell cakes!".

You want to know where confidence comes from?  It can be quite costly, both in terms of time and cash investments.  It's worth it, every single penny and every single moment is worth it.  Olesya WILL emerge from her chrysalis one day, and we all will sit back and gasp at the beauty...

Now, on to the world of Wilton! HAHAHA!  

Welcome to MAL Airlines!

Saturday was a very busy day around here, we had a big Birthday Bash for April and June babies.  Well, OK, I realize they are not exactly babies anymore...but they'll always be MY babies!  The kids decided to combine birthdays and have one party to spare our friends from having to come to yet another LaJoy party, and to share in the fun of a theme they both wanted.  Angela was particularly excited, because we didn't do much to celebrate her birthday last year because of the death of our nephew and the timing of everything.  Since this was really only her second ever birthday to be celebrated, it was still quite a big deal for her.  That is not to say that Matt was any less excited.

After much discussion, we hit on the idea of creating a flight themed party.  Angela is still into Amelia Earhart and Matt is (and always will be) still into planes obviously, so we decided to turn the house into a pretend airport and invite our guests to take a flight with us!  After we came up with the theme, it was hilarious ( or Hil-OR-ious, as Angela says) to sit back and watch the kids take off and run with the whole idea.  Down to the tiniest detail, they created the whole thing and it was clear as they were planning that these kids have all had some serious flying experiences...they totally know the ropes!

So, through photos, let me invite you to pack your bags and visit the MAL Airlines terminal (Matthew Angela LaJoy)!

Be sure and grab your ticket at the front desk!  We found a place online to print real replicas of tickets which could be personalized, so we made one for all our guests and printed it on card stock.

Dominick made our Arrival and Departure sign, and I made Employee Badges with a generic logo I found online.  We all had different jobs.  Olesya was Head Stewardess, Matthew was the Pilot, Angela was the Co-Pilot, I was Director of Hospitality, Dominick was Director of Operations, Kenny was Director of Ticketing, and Josh was Director of Security.

Matthew created a Pilot Training Center, complete with an authentic Colorado Aeronautical Map which I have no idea why we found we had one of those laying around!  He set up the computer with his Microsoft Flight Simulator game.

Our "Baggage Claim" area was where the gifts were placed.  There is a big version of the logo I used on everything for the party.

Angela created a poster with pictures and quotes from Amelia Earhart.

All the kids were so excited, but it was Kenny who got into his role the most.  Here is Olesya helping him look sharp before our "passengers" arrive.

So DON'T LAUGH...but I made a runway cake for the occasion.  I know it is not the most professional looking, but we had fun thinking about what sort of cake to create, and I lucked out that they didn't force the issue of wanting a cake in the shape of an airplane!  And, since I am going to begin cake decorating classes with Olesya starting tomorrow evening (Again, DON'T LAUGH...especially YOU,  Jill!) so future cakes might look a little better.  Well, not if I do them but if Olesya decorates them...hahaha!

Throughout the day, I couldn't help but think about Kenny's buddy in Kyrgyzstan, Amir, (whose new name will be Isaac if he so chooses).  His parents were on a plane to meet him, and our hearts were with them.

Our Director of Security takes his job very, very seriously.

Our passengers were greeted by our Director of Ticketing, who was quite prepared and professional.  He checked tickets with a flashlight to determine if they were forged or not, the stamped them, and he cleared them to head into Security, where...

They were scanned and approved for boarding.

Ahhh...we have created a moster!  Joshie figured out that the man who has the wand has the power!

Some of our passengers came toting their luggage!  I think ultimately they might have been disappointed to discover this was a trial run, and they were not exactly headed to Astana, Kazakhstan.

One of our passengers came suited up and ready to fly in case of an emergency!  Here they stand at attention....

And here they show their true colors! No one can stay too serious for very long at the LaJoy House of Fun!

Angela had fun practicing at the Pilot Training Center

Instead of a standard table cloth, we created our own using various maps...see...those 50 years of National Geographic magazines paid off in multiple ways!

Then it was outside for games.  We played very simple things that didn't cost hardly anything, and the kids all had fun.  We bought a handful of styrofoam and balsa wood airplanes and let the kids fly them.

Then it was on to our Stewardess Water Glass Run...

Finally, we had a relay with loading and unloading suitcases...

Clothes were flying everywhere!  Kids were running everywhere!  Suitcases were carried everywhere!

Then it was inside to Baggage Claim to open gifts, and our children were once again blessed so much by the generosity of our dear friends.

So many people put so much into our family, we have the very best "village" anyone could ever ask for supporting, nurturing and caring about our family.

My two twins, depending upon the month, or one part of my triplets, depending upon the month, or ...oh...just forget it ;-)  We can't keep track either!

Miss Lael, honoring Angela's Elvis obsession!  

And Miss Jill honoring the Amelia Earhart obsession!

The biggest surprise of the day was one we totally didn't expect but were thrilled about!  Angela's gift from us was a BB Pistol, something she had been wishing for since Josh got his rifle.  With our kids, it is kind of hard to pull out of them what they want for Christmas or birthdays, they don't keep a running list in their head and are always so happy with anything they get that they don't really care to ask for anything specific.  But as you all know, Matthew has been working to save money for a compound bow, which for those who have no clue about such things is not an inexpensive item.  He can not use a junior bow as he has grown too much this year, so he needed a standard adult size...average price...$380-$450 brand new.  Even on Ebay used ones are not cheap, so he was continuing to save, in fact having worked for Dominick 3 days last week  putting in long hard days detailing cars.  Since taking his class on archery he was even more motivated to earn one.  

Not having $375 to drop on a compound bow, we decided that for his birthday we would get him a package of arrows.  I know, not exactly a thrill, but he had been talking about even when he earned the bow he would still have to buy arrows and a couple of other things to get started, and the arrows alone were $30 for 3.  So we wrapped them up in a camouflage shirt, got him a little something extra, and that was his gift.  Or so we thought.

The morning of the party I left to go get a couple of items at the store, and stopped by a new little gun and archery store here in town, thinking maybe I could find him the wrist-thingy he needed (I, obviously, did NOT take the archery class and do not know the correct terminology.)  While there I talked to the store owner about bows and asked what the cheapest one was that they had, hoping to pass the information on to Matt for future reference.  No surprises there, they were all close to $400 or more.  I visited a bit more with the salesman, sharing how Matthew was trying so hard to earn enough money for one, and that he didn't even care if it was new or not but couldn't even find a used one that he could afford more easily...and I asked what would be the best place to find a decent used bow.

He cocked his head, and thought for a moment, then a smile spread over his face.  "Come back here for a minute, let me show you something." and I followed him into the back of the shop.  There he placed a large case up on the workbench and popped it open.  Inside was a beautiful camouflage bow, just the right size, with 8 arrows and some other tool thingy (again, I have no clue what it is called), a soft carrying case was tucked inside this larger hard sided case.  He said to me "This is an 18 year old bow, and it appears to almost never have been used.  There is probably about $600 worth here between the bow, the case, and the arrows.  It is a perfect starter bow for a young man wanting to try out the sport, and it is also good enough that he would not have to replace it for an upgrade later on."

Well, with it being $600 worth of archery gear I already knew it was way out of range to even consider.  I hardly dared ask him what the cost was for it.

$125

"I'll take it." I said without a moment's hesitation.  "Right now?" he asked.  "Yes, right now." I replied.  There was no way I could possibly pass it up, and if it had hit the sales floor, it would be gone in a heartbeat.  I could scarcely believe our good fortune!  $125 was more than we have to spend on a birthday gift for any of the kids, so even though it might seem tacky to some folks, we told Matthew that our gift to him was finding the great deal and paying half of the cost of the bow, and he would have to come up with the other half.  Considering the incredible amount it saved him, he was ecstatic and eagerly paid half the cost.  Now he has the real deal, and it did far less than break the bank to get it.

So, the big day was over, birthday celebration had come and gone, and the flight landed safely :-)

All of our children are people we truly enjoy being with, and the older they become the more interesting they are!  Angela and Matthew are amazing in many ways, but the one way which has spoken oodles about their character is how they each accepted one another as siblings, without a single incident.  Angela immediately deferred to Matthew as the honorary eldest, despite the fact that he is over a year younger than she is and actually the 3rd oldest in the family.  She likely would not have done that so easily if it were not for Matthew never trying to assert his place or trying to bully his way into maintaining a role.  They each have mutual respect and admiration for one another, and considering the circumstances both showed an incredible level of maturity and offered a great deal of grace to one another as we settled in to being a family of 5 children, 4 of whom are a year and four months apart.  The experts would be shaking their head in dismay at what we did, we shake our heads in awe at how it worked.

But then, we didn't "pick" our family, God did, and that's really why it worked.

Happy almost 13th birthday, Matthew!  Happy just passed 14th birthday, Angela!  

I don't normally comment on our kids' looks, but as I look at this photo above I just have to say:

Beautiful...handsome...inside and out!

12 Years Ago...

12 years ago...

You were so tiny, so frail, so ill...and so beautiful.

12 years ago...

I was so curious, so spellbound, so immediately overwhelmed.

12 years ago...

I gave my heart to you, and I'd never be the same.

12 years ago...

You put your hand in mine and never looked back.

All I ever imagined motherhood would be, all I never dared dream it would be
It was that and much, much more.

You have changed so much, and yet you are still the same
The same quiet strength,
The same thoughtful introspection,
The same interests and passions
All being practiced  in a much larger body.

But still, even today, as you no longer look up at me but across at me
You sat on the couch, head on my shoulder, long legs stretched out over mine.
I quietly said "Today's your adoption anniversary."
You looked up at me and grinned.

Nothing more needed to be said.

The years are passing so quickly,
You are already more man than child.
In action and in heart, you are but a few years away
From becoming the man I saw inside the 11 month old.

I have a sneaking suspicion though
That nothing will take away
The love and commitment we both silently agreed to
That long ago Mother's Day.

I love you forever, I like you for always, as long as I'm living, my Baby you'll be.
Those days have passed, of lullabies and butterfly kisses.
But what remains and what lies ahead is exciting, too.
A little sorrow for what has passed and a lot of joy for what's next.

We'll always be connected, you and I
Not by blood, not by looks, not by genes
But by something better, that lasts forever
We're linked by love that can't be measured.

And as we walk side by side
Your pinky reaching to link with mine
Others may never understand
A love that was not from biology, but offered from the Divine.

I love you, Matthew LaJoy, and my life changed course the moment I first held you and you nuzzled my neck, never turning back or responding ever again to your birth name.  You waited for me, and I waited for you, and we had an incredible journey to take together.  We are not done, not by a longshot!

Not only that, Matt, but I LIKE you...your humor, your insight, your creativity, your laughter, your companionship, your navigational abilities, your silence, your self-knowledge...I like it all.  And you know what else?  As much as I wish I could turn back the hands of time at moments, as much as I wish I could be rocking you to sleep with you wearing feetie pajamas and me softly singing "You are my little boy from Kazakhstan...", I wouldn't trade this time together with you as a "tween" for anything.  You are "tween" childhood and manhood, and it is a delight to witness.

You are not my first born, for that role has been taken from you twice over...but you are my first held, and you helped me become the mom who could mother others.  No doubt there is much, much more yet to learn from you, my beloved son.

Happy Family Day, Matthew.

Love Always and Forever,
Mom