Arriving home gives the false impression that the paper chase is over. It's not.
There is the necessary registration with the adoptive child's embassy, adding them to health insurance, getting their social security number, updating their immunizations and so on.
Registering with the child's embassy requires the sending of their actual passports to the embassy that is most likely in another state as well as copies of the ID portion of their passports and yours. You must also send the original court declaration with a self-addressed, stamped envelope for the return of all those important documents. All of this must be done within the first 30 days...which may seem like a long time, but it's not when you are adjusting to a new family structure. The time literally flies by.
When I sent all these important documents off, I stood in the post office, hesistating to seal the envelope, trying not to think of the stories I have heard of postal workers hoarding packages and such. There I was again...the same situation I had been in over and over during the past year...praying over papers going into the hands of total strangers!
But WAIT! Sending off the court declaration before contacting your health insurance company may not be the best idea. I needed to submit a scanned copy (over email, thank goodness) of our court declaration (actual signature page on the original in Ukrainian and the English translated version of the entire document). If I had sent on the original to the embassy before scanning it for my health insurance company, that might have been difficult.
These are questions and situations that can be addressed long before you even leave to pick up your children. You can call companies, prepare envelopes with addresses and find out the requirements so it's easier on you when you get home.
Our health insurance takes 10 days to kick in after submitting the forms, documentation and request. If they decide we don't have adequate information, they can request more paperwork and documentation, extending that waiting period. This registering of the kids with the health insurance company also HAS to be done in the first 30 days after their arrival home.
Obviously, I didn't jump on this as quickly as I should have. I focused on our family and our harvest and all that came with bringing the children home...and put off the paperwork for two weeks. I didn't miss deadlines, but our health insurance still hasn't kicked in yet and I would really like to get them in for their check ups.
Don't put it off. While you're waiting for your travel date, pass the time by getting all the facts up front on all the post-adoption paperwork. Call your insurance company, at least, and get the forms and fill out everything you can. We could have done everything required for health insurance except sending in our court declaration. It would have been so easy to do that small step once we got home if I had had everything else taken care of!
Friday, August 31, 2012
Hygiene Hijinks and Other Adventures
I am marking our four-weeks-at-home day with a blog post! Yay! I thought it might be amusing, and hopefully useful, to share some vignettes of life here as we get used to the new normal.
One of the "transition" issues we have dealt with here is the new expectations when it comes to hygiene. It seems to me that though this orphanage was extremely structured and supportive of the children in many ways, there doesn't seem to have been much in the way of hygiene education. In other words, no one paid attention to whether or not certain places and parts got washed at vitally important times and no one spent much time teaching hygiene techniques.
Now, don't get me wrong...I'm not being judgmental or disappointed or even disgusted. The fact is, if I had 150 children to take care of, there would be holes in my training. Hey, I have eight and there are holes in my training...
So, after several days it became apparent that a certain 10 year old wasn't actually washing her hair. It was wet when she came out of the bathroom, but it didn't look like it was anything but wet. Being concerned about her feelings and not wanting to embarass her, I didn't address it at first.
A side note...the reality with the language barrier is that misunderstandings can happen fairly easily and feelings can be hurt when that was not the intention. There is only so much that can be said and explained when there are only a few words in the working vocabulary. Forget heart-to-hearts and long, detailed explanations about why things are the way they are.
Yes, I have a major advantage here because Marsh speaks Russian. But, the day-to-day responsibility of communication is up to me...and I couldn't be more grateful for the weeks I spent with them in Ukraine. I honestly don't know how I would have fared these last four weeks if I hadn't had that time to focus on them, learn more about them and get a feel for what it would be like once we were at home, without the requirements of the younger children taking my attention. As much as I didn't want to be the one over there for those 22 days and as much as I didn't want to leave my little ones yet again, it was a necessary experience and I had no idea how valuable it would be to the peace of our family and my own ability to function properly as the mom to each of these important children. The Lord knows what He is doing, my friends, even when we think we have it figured out.
Finally, Marsh asked me if she was washing her hair. I confided that I didn't think so but I didn't know how to go about helping her with that. I felt badly about bringing up yet ANOTHER point that she needed to change...the change to our lifestyle, our schedule, our culture, our farm, our work and just the fact that they now had parents who had expectations of their behavior, dress and attitudes seemed overwhelming to me when I looked at it from their perspective.
Finally, one day I found myself putting my foot down quite a few times as she was testing the limits and exercising some of her defiance. No tantrums, no screaming, no storming about slamming doors or anything like that, but the defiance came in the form of a silent, focused stare away from my gaze. She had decided that I was asking too much of her. Too many chores, too much work. The wonderful thing in my favor is that I already have two children exactly the same ages as our adopted kids who already have those chores, who already work and study daily and know they aren't allowed certain indulgences and receive consequences for inappropriate behaviors. Even better, there are several younger children that have daily work and study requirements, too. No one could argue that the two "new kids" were being treated any differently or given more work that is expected of anyone else in our household.
But, on that day, Nastia had had it. She was done doing what I wanted her to do, done with all the new requirements, done with work and wanting to do whatever she wanted...which is all she had to do at the orphanage after school.
After her second bout with the silent "I can't see you so you don't exist" sort of stare, I got down in her gaze and explained very clearly that everyone works here...everyone eats, everyone makes messes, everyone works. Period. She never made eye contact, but she agreed and left to do the chore she was supposed to do with her sister.
I immediately called Marsh and told him, "You are talking to the wall that Nastia is beating her head against today!" It was a new place for me...a more maternal place, really. A place I hadn't gone yet, but a place I needed to be. Suddenly, she wasn't a guest in the house anymore. And suddenly, addressing the issue of her hair and anything else that needed to have attention wasn't so hard. I didn't feel like I needed to apologize anymore. The line had been crossed.
I determined that the best thing to do was to act as if nothing difficult had happened. I vented to Marsh, listened to his counsel and had time to gather myself while she was outside grinding wheat with Emma.
Just about 10 minutes after putting my foot down, she came in beaming and triumphantly carrying a full container of wheat flour. The chore she was refusing to do was actually fun and she and her sister had a ball doing it.
Later that night, Marsh had to put his foot down with her, too. He knew what had gone on earlier and came ready to deal with it if it happened again. Sure enough, she pushed against his request too, in front of the entire family, and was carried to her room when she refused to go when asked as the consequence for defiance. At that moment, I realized that she was probably scared of the things we were asking her to do. She was most likely uncomfortable with the new responsibilities, and the number of them, and was afraid to do anymore. However, helping her beyond that and not cottling her into a sense of comfort, helped her realize that she is stronger than the fear. That day, she realized where the line was and has not tested those limits again. She has since tackled everything else head-on...attending classes, parties, activities, joining the town soccer team and all other things that have been required of her.
Oh, and her hair? She tearfully let me wash it and condition it as she leaned over the side of the tub. I kept reminding her gently that she was okay, using the happiest tone of voice I could muster. It made all the difference. Marsh and the older kids complimented her on how beautiful it looked and she has since tried to maintain the same standard, knowing I will follow up and check it when she has showered. I know it doesn't get washed each time as well as I would do it, but she's 10 and there is plenty of time to learn how to do it better. She is only one of eight instead of one of 150, now.
And she has a mom again.
One of the "transition" issues we have dealt with here is the new expectations when it comes to hygiene. It seems to me that though this orphanage was extremely structured and supportive of the children in many ways, there doesn't seem to have been much in the way of hygiene education. In other words, no one paid attention to whether or not certain places and parts got washed at vitally important times and no one spent much time teaching hygiene techniques.
Now, don't get me wrong...I'm not being judgmental or disappointed or even disgusted. The fact is, if I had 150 children to take care of, there would be holes in my training. Hey, I have eight and there are holes in my training...
So, after several days it became apparent that a certain 10 year old wasn't actually washing her hair. It was wet when she came out of the bathroom, but it didn't look like it was anything but wet. Being concerned about her feelings and not wanting to embarass her, I didn't address it at first.
A side note...the reality with the language barrier is that misunderstandings can happen fairly easily and feelings can be hurt when that was not the intention. There is only so much that can be said and explained when there are only a few words in the working vocabulary. Forget heart-to-hearts and long, detailed explanations about why things are the way they are.
Yes, I have a major advantage here because Marsh speaks Russian. But, the day-to-day responsibility of communication is up to me...and I couldn't be more grateful for the weeks I spent with them in Ukraine. I honestly don't know how I would have fared these last four weeks if I hadn't had that time to focus on them, learn more about them and get a feel for what it would be like once we were at home, without the requirements of the younger children taking my attention. As much as I didn't want to be the one over there for those 22 days and as much as I didn't want to leave my little ones yet again, it was a necessary experience and I had no idea how valuable it would be to the peace of our family and my own ability to function properly as the mom to each of these important children. The Lord knows what He is doing, my friends, even when we think we have it figured out.
Finally, Marsh asked me if she was washing her hair. I confided that I didn't think so but I didn't know how to go about helping her with that. I felt badly about bringing up yet ANOTHER point that she needed to change...the change to our lifestyle, our schedule, our culture, our farm, our work and just the fact that they now had parents who had expectations of their behavior, dress and attitudes seemed overwhelming to me when I looked at it from their perspective.
Finally, one day I found myself putting my foot down quite a few times as she was testing the limits and exercising some of her defiance. No tantrums, no screaming, no storming about slamming doors or anything like that, but the defiance came in the form of a silent, focused stare away from my gaze. She had decided that I was asking too much of her. Too many chores, too much work. The wonderful thing in my favor is that I already have two children exactly the same ages as our adopted kids who already have those chores, who already work and study daily and know they aren't allowed certain indulgences and receive consequences for inappropriate behaviors. Even better, there are several younger children that have daily work and study requirements, too. No one could argue that the two "new kids" were being treated any differently or given more work that is expected of anyone else in our household.
But, on that day, Nastia had had it. She was done doing what I wanted her to do, done with all the new requirements, done with work and wanting to do whatever she wanted...which is all she had to do at the orphanage after school.
After her second bout with the silent "I can't see you so you don't exist" sort of stare, I got down in her gaze and explained very clearly that everyone works here...everyone eats, everyone makes messes, everyone works. Period. She never made eye contact, but she agreed and left to do the chore she was supposed to do with her sister.
I immediately called Marsh and told him, "You are talking to the wall that Nastia is beating her head against today!" It was a new place for me...a more maternal place, really. A place I hadn't gone yet, but a place I needed to be. Suddenly, she wasn't a guest in the house anymore. And suddenly, addressing the issue of her hair and anything else that needed to have attention wasn't so hard. I didn't feel like I needed to apologize anymore. The line had been crossed.
I determined that the best thing to do was to act as if nothing difficult had happened. I vented to Marsh, listened to his counsel and had time to gather myself while she was outside grinding wheat with Emma.
Just about 10 minutes after putting my foot down, she came in beaming and triumphantly carrying a full container of wheat flour. The chore she was refusing to do was actually fun and she and her sister had a ball doing it.
Later that night, Marsh had to put his foot down with her, too. He knew what had gone on earlier and came ready to deal with it if it happened again. Sure enough, she pushed against his request too, in front of the entire family, and was carried to her room when she refused to go when asked as the consequence for defiance. At that moment, I realized that she was probably scared of the things we were asking her to do. She was most likely uncomfortable with the new responsibilities, and the number of them, and was afraid to do anymore. However, helping her beyond that and not cottling her into a sense of comfort, helped her realize that she is stronger than the fear. That day, she realized where the line was and has not tested those limits again. She has since tackled everything else head-on...attending classes, parties, activities, joining the town soccer team and all other things that have been required of her.
Oh, and her hair? She tearfully let me wash it and condition it as she leaned over the side of the tub. I kept reminding her gently that she was okay, using the happiest tone of voice I could muster. It made all the difference. Marsh and the older kids complimented her on how beautiful it looked and she has since tried to maintain the same standard, knowing I will follow up and check it when she has showered. I know it doesn't get washed each time as well as I would do it, but she's 10 and there is plenty of time to learn how to do it better. She is only one of eight instead of one of 150, now.
And she has a mom again.
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
One Week At Home
Honeymoon Period
They say there is a honeymoon period in adoption. I think there is a honeymoon period with just about anything...new jobs, new houses, new routines, new anything. I think it is the natural course of things and should be expected.
The thing is, I didn't go into this with rose-colored glasses. I didn't go into this with my eyes half shut. Apply whatever cliche you can think of...I didn't do it.
I'm a worrier. I went through every possible horrible scenario imaginable and prayed my way through this whole process. In Ukraine, I forced myself not to think beyond getting them home because the idea of homeschooling two more children who don't even speak our language was overwhelming, honestly. I knew if I looked beyond what I needed to do right then, I would lose focus and possibly lose faith.
Now, before you think that I was afraid or crazy or both, it is important to remember that our faith is what brought us to this process in the first place. If you, dear reader, don't have your own faith in God, this may not be understandable...especially considering my tendency to worry and the possible problems we could face adopting teenagers from another country. All I can say, after challenging you to gain your own personal faith, is to try to imagine when you have felt, to your core, that you were meant to do something. Now, if you put all of my musings in that perspective, it might not seem so crazy. So, knowing that we were meant, even called, to do this made it easier to put aside my fears, which are really just a lack of faith anyway.
Back to my point...I had pretty much run the gamut on concerns about what we were doing so I'm not sure there is a honeymoon period going on here. There has been no euphoric feeling of "finally being together", no Christmas-morning-like moment of utter joy, no "new baby" excitement...it has been what it was supposed to be. And it feels very much like they've always been here...a phenomenon we have pondered with every newborn we have welcomed, too.
Life on the Farm
As I write this, or rather finish it, it is almost two weeks since we've arrived home. I started this post on Friday night imagining I might just be so on the ball to post at the "week mark" but, just like every other night in the last week and a half, I got too tired to finish it. And the days are too full to lend themselves to writing...especially since I can't keep my thoughts short enough.
We have spent the days since we came home orienting Ruslan and Nastia to their new lives and the expectations of living in our family and on our little farm. We aren't raising animals or food here, we're raising kids. The animals and gardens are for the purpose of training the children and just happen to have the little benefit on the side of providing much of what we consume.
The children all have daily chores, most of which must be done twice a day because of the heat and the need the animals have for water. They all have chores inside the house to keep things running somewhat smoothly, maintain some level of cleanliness and make sure Mom doesn't wear herself completely out.
We decided long before bringing the kids home that they would begin right away with responsibilities. No vacation, no acclimating, just rip the band-aid off as quickly as possible. :) The other kids had all helped with the planning and preparation of what each of the two new kids would be doing, so as soon as they were here, they just slid right into their roles.
You know, come to think of it, there probably is one honeymoon that has gone on. I think Nastia has had a level of newness and excitement that is wearing off now. Ruslan knew exactly what it was like here and nothing much has changed since last summer except his bedroom. He's been planning for a year what he was going to be doing here and what it would be like, anticipating what his new life would be. But, for Nastia, it's been an adventure...until the last couple of days. I won't go into that here, but I can assure you that reality is sinking in for that girl. :) It's okay, though. We all go through that with something new and she'll be fine...and stronger for it, too.
Future Posts
There is so much to share, so many new experiences, so many fun things that have happened and watching the kids see and do things for the first time. I compose the posts in my head, but lack the time to get them down. I'll try to be better...I even take pictures of potato digging, peach canning, bean snapping, garden weeding, corn shucking, kids on the swings in front of the sunset, Nastia teaching herself how to ride a bike. I mean to post them...I just need to make a time to do it.
There is so much to talk about, too, for the adopting families in the future...bumps we've run into (like hygiene issues...washing hair does not mean just getting it wet and YES we wash our hands after using the bathroom), traditions they aren't used to (the fact that the TP can actually go into the toilet...and down), paperwork that needs to be accomplished (registration with the embassy, putting the kids on health insurance...all within the first 30 days...which seems like a long time but it isn't when life takes over) and the list goes on.
So, I'm off to bed...which, after a full day of peach canning and laundry with a toddler, four middle kids and two that don't speak the our language, is REALLY inviting!
(In case you're doing the math...my oldest is at a conference at BYU all week. This gives Ruslan the joy of being the man around the house...a reality that he got to experience today while he hauled peaches up and down stairs for a few hours this afternoon...no wonder his scrawny arms are starting to show some muscle definition! Gotta a love a farm.)
They say there is a honeymoon period in adoption. I think there is a honeymoon period with just about anything...new jobs, new houses, new routines, new anything. I think it is the natural course of things and should be expected.
The thing is, I didn't go into this with rose-colored glasses. I didn't go into this with my eyes half shut. Apply whatever cliche you can think of...I didn't do it.
I'm a worrier. I went through every possible horrible scenario imaginable and prayed my way through this whole process. In Ukraine, I forced myself not to think beyond getting them home because the idea of homeschooling two more children who don't even speak our language was overwhelming, honestly. I knew if I looked beyond what I needed to do right then, I would lose focus and possibly lose faith.
Now, before you think that I was afraid or crazy or both, it is important to remember that our faith is what brought us to this process in the first place. If you, dear reader, don't have your own faith in God, this may not be understandable...especially considering my tendency to worry and the possible problems we could face adopting teenagers from another country. All I can say, after challenging you to gain your own personal faith, is to try to imagine when you have felt, to your core, that you were meant to do something. Now, if you put all of my musings in that perspective, it might not seem so crazy. So, knowing that we were meant, even called, to do this made it easier to put aside my fears, which are really just a lack of faith anyway.
Back to my point...I had pretty much run the gamut on concerns about what we were doing so I'm not sure there is a honeymoon period going on here. There has been no euphoric feeling of "finally being together", no Christmas-morning-like moment of utter joy, no "new baby" excitement...it has been what it was supposed to be. And it feels very much like they've always been here...a phenomenon we have pondered with every newborn we have welcomed, too.
Life on the Farm
As I write this, or rather finish it, it is almost two weeks since we've arrived home. I started this post on Friday night imagining I might just be so on the ball to post at the "week mark" but, just like every other night in the last week and a half, I got too tired to finish it. And the days are too full to lend themselves to writing...especially since I can't keep my thoughts short enough.
We have spent the days since we came home orienting Ruslan and Nastia to their new lives and the expectations of living in our family and on our little farm. We aren't raising animals or food here, we're raising kids. The animals and gardens are for the purpose of training the children and just happen to have the little benefit on the side of providing much of what we consume.
The children all have daily chores, most of which must be done twice a day because of the heat and the need the animals have for water. They all have chores inside the house to keep things running somewhat smoothly, maintain some level of cleanliness and make sure Mom doesn't wear herself completely out.
We decided long before bringing the kids home that they would begin right away with responsibilities. No vacation, no acclimating, just rip the band-aid off as quickly as possible. :) The other kids had all helped with the planning and preparation of what each of the two new kids would be doing, so as soon as they were here, they just slid right into their roles.
You know, come to think of it, there probably is one honeymoon that has gone on. I think Nastia has had a level of newness and excitement that is wearing off now. Ruslan knew exactly what it was like here and nothing much has changed since last summer except his bedroom. He's been planning for a year what he was going to be doing here and what it would be like, anticipating what his new life would be. But, for Nastia, it's been an adventure...until the last couple of days. I won't go into that here, but I can assure you that reality is sinking in for that girl. :) It's okay, though. We all go through that with something new and she'll be fine...and stronger for it, too.
Future Posts
There is so much to share, so many new experiences, so many fun things that have happened and watching the kids see and do things for the first time. I compose the posts in my head, but lack the time to get them down. I'll try to be better...I even take pictures of potato digging, peach canning, bean snapping, garden weeding, corn shucking, kids on the swings in front of the sunset, Nastia teaching herself how to ride a bike. I mean to post them...I just need to make a time to do it.
There is so much to talk about, too, for the adopting families in the future...bumps we've run into (like hygiene issues...washing hair does not mean just getting it wet and YES we wash our hands after using the bathroom), traditions they aren't used to (the fact that the TP can actually go into the toilet...and down), paperwork that needs to be accomplished (registration with the embassy, putting the kids on health insurance...all within the first 30 days...which seems like a long time but it isn't when life takes over) and the list goes on.
So, I'm off to bed...which, after a full day of peach canning and laundry with a toddler, four middle kids and two that don't speak the our language, is REALLY inviting!
(In case you're doing the math...my oldest is at a conference at BYU all week. This gives Ruslan the joy of being the man around the house...a reality that he got to experience today while he hauled peaches up and down stairs for a few hours this afternoon...no wonder his scrawny arms are starting to show some muscle definition! Gotta a love a farm.)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)