So, it would seem that being a mommy of three already has me busy---our first meeting with Ethan and Andru was one week ago, and no blog post yet!
We left last Friday morning for the trek to South Carolina. Two flights and an hour and a half drive later, we were fluttering around our hotel room pretending not to be terrified about the meeting that was about to occur. Where do you even start? At this point, we have talked to the boys everyday, sometimes multiple times a day, thanks to the wonders of Skype. But still...what if they didn't like us NOW? What if we arrived at their door to find out they wanted nothing to do with us?
Brian and I held hands wordlessly on the drive to the boys' house. Gabbi's endless stream of conversation was never so welcome. About five minutes away, Brian and I both worried that we might throw up or cry. Either way---not world's greatest impression of your new mommy or daddy. Brian said he felt like he was about to go on the most important interview of his life. I knew exactly what he meant---we had two short days to show them that we were loving but firm, nurturing and fair, and to spoil them just a little bit, so they knew we liked to have fun, but wouldn't set a trend we can't follow up on at home.
Opening the door to their foster parents' house, we didn't know what to expect. The first few minutes were awkward, at best. The boys didn't want to come out. We waited expectantly like strangers come to pick up a kitten. Gabbi saved the day (doesn't she always??) by marching into the boys, handing them our gifts and saying, "We got you presents. You're my big brothers!" End of story. And just like that, the spell was broken. The boys came forward, gave us timid hugs, and began the whirlwind of show and tell. "Come see my room!" "Come see my toys!" "Come play soccer in the yard!" All of the above completed, it was like we had never been apart---never been strangers. It took all of about three minutes to know that these were MY kids---little people who would change my life forever. They already have, in so many ways.
Packing their bags for the hotel--I wondered at all of the little boy STUFF. Cleats, and tiny swimming trunks. Superhero t-shirts, GI Joes, no blankies. (Big boys, and all that) Leaving for dinner, we piled in the car, a family of FIVE. Brian grinned into the rear view mirror the whole way to the restaurant. Once there, big brothers took charge of little sister. They held her hand across the parking lot, tucked her into the booth between them, ordered her a milkshake just like theirs. She was, and is, in awe of them.
I loved that moment, sitting across from the three of them in the booth, realizing that this was it---those three little faces are my future and my joy. Dinner was chaos, and perfect. Shopping at the store was a challenge, and just right. We got back to the hotel room, changed for swimming and returned for a movie and popcorn.
That night, our family of five snuggled together under the covers. We spilled popcorn in the bed, read stories and pretended to watch a movie. My little boys made room for their sister and held my hand. They all said prayers, and Gabbi taught them our night-night song. That moment, that first moment that felt like real life, is all that matters. I know there will be tears and time-outs. I know that Ethan and Andru will argue with each other and with Gabbi. But I also know that we are a family, and that's what counts.
This morning, I opened my computer to the sound of my Skype phone ringing. Andru was calling.
He was having an "off-night" last night, and he was sent to bed before he could show me his pumpkin. He also got a new cell phone (still not sure if Miss Shirley was just trying to pacify him, or if its actually activated...) He said he didn't have any numbers in there. I said he could put mine in. He said, "Okay, mama, I'm ready!" MAMA. I still don't know if he meant to say it. I'm not sure I care. I just know that when he said it, I didn't want to answer for fear of ruining it.
Miss Shirley and Mr. Bob, who I am fairly certain are saints, have been calling us Mom and Dad since the day our scrapbook arrived. No Brian or Emily. The kids refer to us as "my new mom" or "the dad". It would have been a bit frightening if they had called us mommy and daddy right away, but that doesn't mean I don't want to hear it. (I am impatient...its been established.)
I am still overwhelmed by how...normal their reaction has been to all of this---if there is a "normal" in this situation. They are two little boys, presented with a new family and a new life, and they are interested. They call at least once a day, usually twice. They fill us in on their day--what they ate, what they played with, if they got in trouble at school (usually, the answer is no...). I look forward to their calls, their voice, their stories. Monday, we read bedtime stories to each other. I found this wonderful book called I Love You So Much that talks about an unconditional love for our children from the day we meet (not the day they are born. The day we meet. An important distinction.) They read me Star Wars and Superman. Excellent. Next up from Mommy will be The Kissing Hand, which I am fairly certain is the sweetest raccoon story ever written. I cry every time. I try not to cry on the phone with the boys, for fear it will frighten them. Why is new mommy always crying? Poor boys. They do not suspect the emotional household they are now a part of. I cry at Folger's commercials. Why not my new children who just happen to be sweet, smart and wonderful???
I don't expect every day to be good, or easy. But I do know that God has chosen these boys for us, and us for them. They are in my heart, and I suspect that has always been true. One week from today, I will board a plane. One week and five hours from now, I will get to hug them. They have the whole weekend planned. Friday; out to dinner. Saturday; we get to watch their football and soccer games, and then play in the park. Sunday; church if we are feeling ambitious, and then go-karting. As a mommy of a little girl, I have to remember that I am in boy-land now.
Love.
As you can see, we have welcomed two little hams into our family:)
Thursday evening, we finally got to speak to our little men. After getting their foster mom's phone number, I called and left a message. I told her that we would love to speak to the boys, trying to contain my now-crazed excitement. I asked her to call me when all of them were comfortable, and reassured her that we would be available all night. Approximately, seven minutes later, she called me back.
Shirley, the boys' foster mom, is wonderful. It is clear that our boys have been loved and nurtured for the two years that they have been in the care of her and her husband. We chatted effortlessly as she drove home for work, and I learned more in those ten minutes than I knew before about our sweet boys. As she arrived home, I heard it in the background. Two little voices asking the mundane questions I longed to hear..."I need money for our field trip tomorrow" ,"Can we have ice cream after dinner?" ( my kind of kids!!) My heart sang just to hear them.
Shirley told me that the kids call us mom and dad. They have brought our scrapbook to their friends to show them. Andru wanted to call his "new mom" to get help on a school project. (that got me. the first of several happy tears on this evening.) The boys continued to flood her with pent-up questions and energy until she announced that their "new mama" was on the phone. Noise stopped. She asked if they wanted to speak to me. Ethan promptly said no. Andru said yes. When he got on, I suddenly was in a voiceless panic---what to say? "Hi, I'm your new mommy---love me, please!!!" "Hello, young man, how was your day?" After a series of quick, horrible options, I settled on "Hi, Andru! Did you get our book?" (not bad...still trying to figure out what would have been better!) I asked him if he was excited or nervous, and he said, "Oh...I am excited!!!" After a couple of short, one-syllable answers, we made a Skype date for later that evening, after football practice.
At eight o'clock, we sat and laughed as Andru performed in front of his Web cam. He's hilarious. Ethan sat off camera, but chimed in when he felt the need. Hot topics of conversation: does Daddy get to bring his police car home with him? Can we have a dirt bike? Where's Gabbi?
Good news---their new room is decorated in their favorite colors!! (Mommy guessed right!!) Even better news---I am completely and utterly in love with these two small people who have taken up residence in my heart.
We talked again tonight, and Ethan sat on camera (progress!!). They talked to our wonderful friends' kids, and know that they have several playdates ahead of them. They have already made a date for tomorrow, following their games so they can tell us all about them.
Bliss.
After what I am fairly certain was the longest weekend of my life, our boys finally got to "meet us" last night when our scrapbook was presented to them. I was up all night, wondering what they would say, what they would they think, how they would feel.
When their caseworker called this morning, I was unsure if I wanted to hear how it went. What if they hated us? What if they took one look and said, "Ummmm...no. I really do not want THAT to be my forever family." Thankfully, it did not go quite like that. They were nervous, understandably apprehensive. They were handed a book and told that these people, these pictures and letters, were from their parents. How would you feel?? They looked through the book, smiled at a few things---our house, their room, Lucy (our faithful dog, who is very much like a person) and the fact that Daddy is a police officer. They like police officers. They asked a few questions, and then Ethan declared that he would rather be playing. Of course. Later, they took the book to their room and then brought it out to show their neighbors. Ethan is afraid that if they come here before Christmas, Santa will not be able to find them.
I want to meet them , hear their voices, tell them that they can do this, that we are all going to be okay. How do you love someone you have never met? I have a profile, a background and IQ test results. I have third person accounts of what they have said. I want to talk to them, see them laugh, watch them play in the yard and bicker with their little sister. I want them here, where we can start the rest of our lives---together.
I can't imagine how scared they are, how excited, how confused. At 8 and 6, much their young lives have been lost in upheaval and fear. For the last year and a half, they have been loved and taken care of by a wonderful couple. Now, everything is about to change for them again. We are so excited, so full of joy. But I have to think that they have much more trepidation than comfort at knowing we are here, waiting for them. All we can do is be here, arms open, ready to take what comes.
