'Tis the Season...

Thus ends the most miraculous, wondrous, exhausting and emotional holiday season of my life. Our boys have been home for seven days, and in the course of that week, we have tried to instill a lifetime of values and guidelines.


I am sure to two little boys, it seems that we are a loop-recording of "No". No running into furniture. No punching, hitting or kicking your brother. No yelling. No talking back. No fibbing. No, you are not the boss. No, we are never going to give you up. That one will take the longest to sink in. 


In the course of our foster classes, and (let's face it), common sense, we were prepared for a lot of behaviors and emotions that would be considered "normal" for kids who have been through the amount of turmoil and upheaval that ours have. We were prepared for a lack of basic coping skills, for the inevitability of distrust, for lots of transitional neediness. We have encountered all of this, and it is all manageable and fixable...eventually. One thing I was not prepared for was the level of materialism inherent in our children. This, of course, was magnified exponentially by the timing of their arrival.  It seems we have talked about this everyday, ten times a day since they arrived in the house--what it means to be truly grateful, what the Christmas season is really about, and what we can do to show our gratitude to those we love, and who love us. 


One thing that we have tried so hard to instill in Gabbi is JOY. Be joyful for what you have been given, for the gift of your life and the simple joy hat is to be found in each day. I wanted this Christmas morning to be perfect---filled with that joy that comes with simplicity and happiness. That is not what Christmas morning looked like. The boys were sorely disappointed with their gifts from us, and from Santa. They tossed them aside like the wrapping paper they had also discarded. Brian and I were crushed---hours of picking out the perfect gifts now seemed like money and time wasted. What had gone wrong? When we put aside our disappointment, it seemed perfectly clear. All their lives, our sons had been given things to pacify them--they were showered with gifts from nameless donors and rewarded by things, not actions. 


"Stuff" doesn't mean a darn thing to them---but people do. Hugs still abound, "I love yous" are becoming easy, and joy is not a lesson you can learn in seven days. For now, our closet is full of gifts given by the amazing people who love and support us and new additions. We will bring them out slowly, once hard lessons have been learned and we have all come to terms with our new lives and our new rules...or roles. 


What I do know is this---no matter how frustrated I get, or how tired I am, I love them fiercely. They are mine to protect, to teach and to mold. Forever. And that's a really long time.