God and the YMCA

Ben and I were in the habit of attending weekly Mass prior to my trip to China. That came to a halt when we returned.  Not for lack of faith –mind you, I think I have uttered more prayers in the past month than the whole year prior.  I’m pretty sure the Lord understood, despite the whole “keep holy the Sabbath” thing.  I kept trying to picture Evan in Church, sitting quietly, watching something he didn’t understand and couldn’t hear.  I thought back to the Masses of my youth.  I liked to sing the songs and I tried to listen to the message.  If I cancel all of that out, it becomes one interminable hour of watching a guy in a long robe barely move.  

So, last Sunday I decided Evan was finally ready to see his first Mass.  Someone suggested the “baby room,” but I didn’t want to give him the feeling that he would be able to go to Church and make noise or act out.  I got the boys ready and we drove to Church.  We parked the car and walked into Church.  I stopped at the entry and made the sign of the cross with Holy Water on Evan’s head. “Can’t hurt,” I thought.  Seconds later, Evan blew out a devotional candle as we passed. 

I opted for a seat towards the back in case we needed to make a quick retreat.  As we slid into the pew, Evan let out a few noises which made everyone look at him.  Sheepishly, I said, “We are going to try this today, but if he becomes disruptive, we will leave.”  Naturally, everyone responded graciously and said, “Oh, no problem at all!”   I thought, “You say that, now.”

I knelt for a simple beginning prayer, “Ok God, here goes nothing….”  And then I gulped and sat down.  Surprisingly, Evan was mostly good.  I had to take him to the restroom, and I reminded him to be quiet a couple of times.  He pretended to read the Mass Book.  He lay across my lap. Mostly, he looked really, really bored.

But then, close to the end of the Mass, Evan perked up.   I looked at Evan, sitting ramrod straight with his eyes sharply focused on the altar. He looked very, very interested.  I looked from Evan’s face and then back to the altar.  Oh, no!  How could I have not seen this coming???!  Evan was watching the man in the robes prepare SNACKS.  Okay, to the rest of the Catholics this was the most Holy part of the Mass and that was the body and blood of Christ…but not to Evan.  He was quite sure we had finally gotten to the good part, and he was licking his lips. 

I leaned to Ben and I whispered, “When we walk down to the altar, I want you to go behind us.  I don’t want Evan to see you taking Holy Communion.” 

“Why Mommy?”

“Just do it, Ben.  He’s not going to understand why he can’t have some.” 

We got in line for the Holy Eucharist.  I held Evan’s hand and we advanced slowly.  There was a gentleman – a layperson – offering Communion in our line.  I stood in front of him, hands out, and responded, “Amen.”  Then I grabbed Evan’s hand and yanked him away just as he was reaching for the Chalice with both hands and stretching his neck to try to get a whiff of Jesus himself.  Evan was NOT HAPPY. 

Back in the pew, Evan gestured wildly at me.  It went something like this: Arms waving towards the altar - finger jabbing the air at me – then, the sign for eating – then he made a small circle with his fingers – then arms wave around angrily again.  Then, Evan crawled under the pew, wrapped his arms around his bent knees and stewed.  I tried to look serene and pious as I turned my eyes to the heavens to avoid the stares of the folks around me.  I said a quick prayer and sat down. 

Luckily, my Church serves donuts and juice after Mass, so Evan forgave me and God for depriving him earlier.  We exited and I exhaled.   

That was the beginning of last week.  Monday, I returned to work and the boys went to the YMCA summer camp.  I watched my phone obsessively, and though Evan didn’t get high marks in behavior – I only got one phone call.    The child care counselors were wonderful with both children, and I couldn’t thank them enough for working with us. 

It was a very busy week getting my new classroom ready and also getting Evan and Ben registered in their new school.  The Principal of Evan’s school, also an adoptive Mom, has been amazing to us.  She called an emergency meeting with the appropriate people to have everyone on deck ready to begin working with Evan.  I was able to allow Evan to meet the interpreter, speech pathologist, deaf/hard of hearing teacher and audiologist he will be working with.  This is in addition to having a fabulous Kindergarten teacher.  Ben met his new 4^th grade teacher, Mr. Miller.  He is a very nice man and has a stellar reputation as a teacher.  I think it will be great for Ben to have a male teacher since we don’t have too much “guy time” around here. 

The kids start school on Monday.  As of Friday, their bus still wasn’t arranged. After multiple calls, I was instructed to call back 6:00 a.m. MONDAY morning.  The suspense is killing me.  Oh, and tomorrow we will attempt Mass again.  Say a prayer for usJ. 

Finding our Rhythm

Finding our Rhythm

A recent study discovered that a mother need only look at her baby affectionately for their heartbeats to synchronize.

We arrived in Savannah Monday evening after two days in the car.  Ben is a seasoned car-traveler, so I was not worried about him.   I was hopeful that Evan would do well since the car lulls him to sleep even on shorter rides.  Still, I was afraid that we would reach the point of revolt somewhere in the nearly 20 hour journey.  I pictured myself at a Pilot gas station in the middle of North Carolina looking like a kidnapper as I forced Evan to get back in the vehicle.   I fervently hoped it would not come to that.  

 Evan fared remarkably well throughout the journey.  I was amazed. And grateful.  I kept wondering what was going through his mind. I tried to prepare him by showing him photos of our house and signing that we were going on a long drive to get there.  He nodded, but who knows how much he understood?  We left Nanei’s house at 6:30 am. And drove past sunset to reach Emporia, VA where I had booked a hotel for one night.  Evan had been accepting and cooperative through the whole day’s drive.  I was impressed.  As the sun went down, though, I looked back at him. Evan pointed out the window at the descending darkness and made a gesture and facial expression that conveyed the sentiment, “WHAT THE HECK??!!” 

 Luckily, we were just a few minutes from our hotel.  We stayed at a nice Country Inn and Suites in Emporia for the night.  The next morning, we all (including our fish) got back in the car and headed toward Savannah.   Ben and I have made a tradition out of stopping at South of the Border every trip.  We love the stupid bill boards that announce the “miles to go” and cheer when we see the gigantic, tacky Pedro Monument/observation tower looming on the horizon.   For those who are uninitiated, South of the Border :

“began as a 600 square foot stand selling beer to thirsty patrons from dry counties north of the border in North Carolina and has developed into a 300 acre complex with such diverse features as a motel and campground, six restaurants, a theme park, mini-golf, fireworks store, gas stations and more than a dozen gift shops with everything from Mexican jumping beans to antiques. In the beginning Mr. Alan Schafer worked the stand by himself and now SOTB is run by the third generation of the Schafer family and hundreds of employees, making it the biggest employer in Dillon County, S.C.”

( www.thesouthoftheborder.com)

I am fascinated by this place.  Alan Schafer was born to a Jewish family at the start of WWI.  He developed this totally contrived, deliberately tacky, Mexican-themed $40 million travel-stop in the middle of no-where South Carolina, and then used his political muscle to get I-95 routed right past it.  Gotta love it. 

I allowed Ben and Evan to pick one piece-of-junk toy from one of the largest souvenir shops, and then we had some ice cream.  I also had to take pictures of the boys in front of one of the awful cement figures that liberally dot the grounds. Ben chose –of course- the dinosaur.

Then, it was time to get back on the road.  We approached Savannah in the early evening and you won’t believe this – but up until then, the boys did not have one single fight.  I guess the road was getting to Evan, because he chose our last few miles to make some fake karate chops at Ben.  Though the swipes never landed, Ben whined as if they did:

“MOOOM, Evan almost banged me and I don’t want to go to the Emergency Room and end up DEAD!”
 I assured Ben he was being dramatic, stifling my laughter, and we finally arrived home. 

Our upstairs neighbor and good friend Anita was there to greet us.  I wondered what Evan would think of his new home.  I know it seems odd, considering where he spent the last few years, but I was a little nervous that I would see some disappointment.  Over the past month, Evan has demonstrated a strong appreciation for the finer things in life – like the Novatel Hotel in Hong Kong – and my house is more of the two-star genre of abode.  I held my breath, and completely aware of the irony, thought: “Don’t judge me!”  LOL. 
I needn’t have worried.  Evan barged in, ready to explore, and didn’t pause to give me a disapproving look as he passed through the kitchen in need of a new floor. 

 He quickly found his new room, shared with Ben, and examined everything.  Evan found a bucket of coins that Ben has been saving.  He poured it out on the carpet and squealed with delight as he picked up handfuls and let it run back through his fingers.  The Emperor is rich…J

Since our arrival, we have been running around non-stop.  The boys are now registered at the same school, and the YMCA for a week of camp while I go to pre-planning at my school next week.  Evan had his first pediatrician appointment and got 4 shots and several vials of blood drawn for testing.  We had one failed appointment at an ENT. They turned us away because the insurance was in the process of updating their records and Evan wasn’t covered yet.  Though they knew he would be retroactively covered to July 3^rd, they still refused.  At the time, it really upset me, but since then we chose another ENT doctor, so all is good.  Evan had a preliminary hearing test -and failed - no surprise there -and he is scheduled for more definitive testing in November.  Additionally, I have had to unpack a summer’s worth of travel, fight back the jungle that is my yard, order school uniforms, food shop for an empty house, do laundry, cook/clean, and start to plan my classroom theme.  This weekend we will go shopping for school supplies for the boys. 

Around my manic drive to get us all on track for the approaching school year, Ben and Evan have been building great Lego creations and riding up and down the hallway on the red scooter.  Evan has calmed down A LOT.  He is still the Evanator, but he is beginning to flow with our calmer, quieter rhythm.  I no longer fear that if I leave the room, Evan will rearrange the furniture or smother Ben with a pillow.   In fact, I was able to go outside and do a couple of hours of yard work while the boys watched cartoons and played.  I checked in on them, of course.  Each time, Ben said, “Evan is being good, Mommy.”  I asked Ben recently how he liked his new brother.  Ben answered, “He is still annoying.” I asked, (kidding), “Do you want me to send him back?”  Ben said, “No, Mommy, because he is my only brother and I love him with all my heart.” 

A matter of perspective….

Two-thousand-seventy-three days ago, a baby boy was born most likely in poverty in China.  He appeared perfect in every way.  But as he grew, there were signs that something was not right.  He didn’t turn his head when a door slammed; he didn’t look in the direction of a voice that spoke his name. 

Approximately 1,278 days ago someone ---perhaps hoping for a chance at a better life for her son, perhaps hoping for medical care, perhaps just resigned to the fact that a special-needs son would not be able to support his parents as they aged--- walked away from the 3 year old deaf boy in front of the Civil Affairs Office in Xin Xiang.  He was found by a stranger and turned over to the authorities.  It was determined he was abandoned and he was sent to live in an orphanage; just one of thousands of children who share the same fate in every city in China. 

Roughly 485 days ago, I spotted a picture of a small, shy-looking boy with a very sweet smile on a waiting child list on an adoption agency’s list for China.   I fell in love with him and decided this would be Ben’s little brother.  Ben talked about how he would help because he was certain his little brother would be scared.

Thirty days ago, Ke Ran strutted into the Civil Affairs Office in Zhengzhou and became my son, Evan James Lamb.  Thirty days. That’s less than a Kardashian marriage.

Seven days after that, I explained to Evan we would go on an airplane.  We were flying from Zhengzhou to Guangzhou, China. I thought he would be awe-struck.  I drew a picture of an airplane and pointed to him, my sister Anita, and myself.  Then, I flattened my hand and mimicked the smooth ascent of a plane into the sky.  Evan nodded; he got it!  Then, he copied my ‘plane hand,’ did the take-off, and – watching me for a reaction – tipped his hand over and crashed us all. 

Pictures do not convey a concept of family life.  Somehow in his last days in the orphanage, the Nannies told Evan he would have a Mom.  They showed him the photo album I sent with pictures of his new family.  What is a Mom?  Someone to give me food and toys? That’s good.  Someone to tell me, “No,” all…day…long… What a drag.

Pictures also do not convey the concept of Evan.  The sweet smile is still there, but so is a smirk and sometimes even a sneer!   Evan was probably very good at institutional life.   He is clever, strong and quite smart. This is a great skill set when you live in a place where you are outnumbered and resources are scarce. 

We have been making the rounds since we’ve been back.  We’ve visited friends and family.  I have many moments when I am exasperated with Evan’s behavior.  I hover. I supervise.  I am frazzled.  Always, I am told that Evan is doing very well, considering the short time he has been with me.  He is?  Well, I guess when you look at it that way…

We visited a friend who is pregnant with twins.  She has wanted to be a mother for a long time and I am so happy for her! We took the boys to a park.  We discussed baby names and child rearing.  Like all new Moms, she is worried about being overwhelmed.

“I guess I will take it one day at a time,” she said.  I agreed it is all you can do. 

What works with Evan?  Evan likes T.V. and making things with paper, glue or other craft items.  He likes puzzles.  Evan really likes to rough-house, but he has no ‘off switch.’  Ben and Evan had a light saber battle with glow sticks a couple of nights ago.  It was fun to watch the boys so engaged with each other.  Ben has seldom had the opportunity for this kind of guy-play.   No one got hurt, but as the battle wore on it became clear that Evan’s energy was escalating with no end in sight.  If you have ever had a rambunctious puppy, you can imagine the scene.

Mostly we try to avoid getting too wild. Sometimes it is unavoidable.  Yesterday, we visited my grandmother. Uncle David (my mother’s brother) and Doreen came to meet Evan.  Uncle David has always had as much fun as the kids at Christmas playing with all the toys.  Doreen gave Ben and Evan some wonderful (and practical) clothes.  They also brought a few small toys, including a tiny plastic pool table, fake money, and a gun which shoots nerf-like disks.  I knew where this was going.

Evan and Ben started off shooting a target, supervised by Doreen.  In time, though, Evan was off and running, shooting everyone in the head.  We tried to play Parchesi, but Evan found it boring after a few turns.  He excused himself to count his play money.  Evan loaded the pockets of his cargo shorts with loot and clipped the gold plastic money clip to his shirt.  Then he went back to shooting everyone.  My son – the Gangsta.

When the noise had reached a crescendo and both boys were worked up to a lather, Uncle David and Doreen said their goodbyes to retreat to a much needed vacation on Block Island.   The children slowly deflated, and we headed home also.

Integrating Evan into our family is not all that different from welcoming a new baby.  You can have all of your plans and methods in place, but each child is an individual with his own personality.  There are children who can make you look like a Parenting-Star.  (Thanks, Ben!) Then there are kids who make you feel you are on the low end of the learning curve.  As I remind myself to have patience with Evan, I need to remember to have patience with myself.

We are all slowly releasing our preconceived notions of what our new life would look like. Evan is letting go of his fantasy of family life meaning an endless flood of food and gifts.  He is beginning to grasp that a Mom is a bossy-thing, who also doles out hugs and kisses on the forehead.  Ben is letting go of his fantasy of a small, sweet, scared brother who needs him to lead and protect. I am letting go of any thought that my new son will be a mini-Ben.  Together, we are becoming a family, different than any of us imagined, but still good. 

Brotherly Love... not exactly as Ben imagined....

The Italian-Chinese-American contingent representing Block Island, Rhode Island...Thanks,  Uncle Dave and Doreen!