Growing Family

Roadtrip, Baby!

Christmas means summer in Australia, and since we aren't traveling to Holland or the U.S. this Christmas, it seemed the perfect opportunity for the quintessential Aussie (say "ozzie") roadtrip. The Captain and I love a good roadtrip.

We're finishing day two of a two and a half day journey. Here's our route.

Day 1 we left Sydney and after stopping to eat sandwiches at a dried out park in Goulburn, stretched our legs at Bateman's Bay, and then powered through to Merimbula, in the Sapphire coast, where we stopped for the night. On the way we saw a live wallaby (a small kangaroo), and a goana feasting on roadkill. Speaking of roadkill, we saw nine deceased wallabies, two wombats, and a snake.

Merimbula was beautiful! For one thing we saw mobs of kangaroo at dusk. In the morning, the kids had a spirited war against "Russia" before breakfast,

on our way out of town, we stopped at a lookout.

Have you heard me say that Australia is less litigious than the U.S.? This amazing fishing platform with NO railings is a great example. It was so gorgeous, soaring up about ten meters out of the water. We had to go for a look.

The sea floor under the platform was covered in sea urchins, which we could see so clearly through the crystal clear water.

Afer leaving Merimbula, we headed into the Snowy River National Park. Now, that may not sound like anything to you, but growing up, I LOVED watching The Man from Snow River. Watch this scene and tell me it doesn't make your hair stand on end!

 I couldn't get any good shots of the mountains we were driving through since it was basically a cliff on one side and a drop off on the other, with winding roads putting my tendency towards carsickness to the test, but trust me, it was immense. Finally, we reached a more level part and I wanted to show you these blackened trees. Australia has so many bushfires, and this is what a forest looks like when it is growing again after a fire comes through.

The actual Snowy River wasn't so awe-inspiring, but that's okay.

The information center in Orbost was in a beautiful old cabin, complete with two resident geese which kept freaking the kids out with their honking and pattering around. We ate lunch there and let the kids run for a play. The gardens were beautiful and I made the children willow wreaths and belts, which I enjoyed as much as they did.

Finally we arrived in Lakes Entrance, another gorgeous location. After a swim, and dinner, we walked to the beach. Have I mentioned that my children love the ocean, and look their finest with the evening sun reflecting off the sand onto their beautiful faces? Memories are treasures, and we are filling our pockets with as many as we can.

 

Bends in the Road

Today was full of the unexpected.

To begin with, we had our last meeting with B (our foster son) and his early education support worker. Being a mother doesn't garner you success that you can display in the form of promotions, raises, and awards. I take the recognition of my hard work from odd places. Today his early ed worker said "we are just amazed at how far B has come...whatever you are doing, just keep doing that. He has made truly amazing progress and we are so pleased." 

His previous foster families layed an amazing foundation that we have built on. They saw him make tremendous progress. If I think back to meeting B for the first time, at 20 months he was just starting to walk and was unsteady on his feet. He couldn't climb up onto the couch or a chair. He had less than ten words in his vocabulary. He couldn't feed himself. 

So much has changed.

B has been unsettled. I think he can feel the buzz in the air of the unknown that surrounds his family. The changes, the possibilities, our stress. After meeting with Early Ed instead of going straight into daycare like he is used to, he was reserved and avoidant with people we met along the way, unlike his usual social self.

After leaving B at daycare, I proceeded with the day's plans to play at a local park with a shallow water play area with a friend and her four children. Several hours in, her youngest child who had been fretful and sleepy became more agitated. When we observed an odd rash on her leg with marks that might indicate a bite of some kind, she decided to take her to the Dr. I headed home with her two older children and my three, while she went to the GP and was sent on to the hospital.

Our 11am playdate turned into an all day event. She was finally given the all clear and collected her kids just before 8pm. 

Round about 6 o'clock, while I was feeding six children supper, B's case worker called with the news from court today.

In a completely unanticipated turn of events, court has been delayed until mid-March. Also coming as a surprise is the possibility that the children's case may be accepted by Barnardos' Find a Family program which vigorously advocates for adoptive placements.

Everything is still in the air, except that B won't be going anywhere anytime soon. 

I don't know what to feel. I don't know what to think. 

I had to pick B up from the supper table and put him to bed early because he was just losing it and I couldn't hold his hand through his drama with five other kids to help through dinner. He woke back up at 7:30 and through his tears and hitting me, said "mama, milk". That is the first time he has ever asked me for what he needed, unprompted. He lay in my arms and guzzled his milk down, snuggling in like a baby.

After some more bumps in getting our friends out the door, and the other kids settled into bed, I picked him up from where he was crying, sat down in the rocker in his room, and sang his favorite song, and shared my peace with him. He let his weight go heavy in my arms, looking up at my face, and singing with me. He pressed his face into me, finding comfort. When I lowered him into his bed and kissed my fingers to touch his cheeks, he made a kissing sound back to me, and smiling, settled into sleep.

The first night he was here, he fell asleep in my arms out of sheer exhaustion. Tonight he settled because I've built trust with him.

I don't know what will happen next, but I am proud of what has happened so far. Just like my friend laughing at her nursing baby's chubby legs and saying with pride "I did that!" When B lays heavy in my arms, trusting me to comfort him I think "we did that". We have worked hard, and he has worked hard, and we have something real to show for it.

I don't know what will happen next, but gaining this little terrified person's trust is one of those things in my life that I will always be proud of.

 

Headlong

We have been having a fabulous summer.

Thanksgiving was amazing. The children's end of school events all went well. The ballet recital brought tears to my eyes, and we've been decorating and baking and playing in the sprinkler, and eating mangoes.

I was planning on telling you how wonderful and shimmery and absolutely fantastic everything has been...

But how do you even write any of that with 27 people missing from the planet? How do you glory in the making of sugar cookies, when some families won't be able to have Christmas this year?

One of my very best friends lives not far from Newtown, CT and she explained on Facebook that her children's school and Sandy Hook feed into the same high school. Those murdered children would have been her children's prom dates and lab partners, and sleepover buddies.

I'm not afraid like I typically would be after hearing about a tragedy, just so sad. So shocked, and baffled.

Another piece of the emotional roller coaster is the fact that today is the first court day of three, hopefully culminating in a decision regarding our foster son's future. I am in knots. I am worried for him. I am so torn up knowing that whatever happens, we will be handing him over and he will feel like he is being abandoned AGAIN. 

We have put in five intense months helping him attach to us, and he is just starting to really let his guard down. He is starting to love us. He is starting to feel like he belongs here and we are his people. I can tell in the way he burrows his head in my chest and lingers there. I can tell by the way he threw himself on Small Sun to hug him, when Small Sun got hurt. I can tell by the way he is finally chilling out, and has stopped "shopping for a family". 

I HATE this part where we fail him. We leave him. We kick him out. We disappear. I HATE it. There is no way for a child to process what is actually happening. There is no way to explain that we don't have the option to keep him. No way to explain that what is about to happen is not rejection.

So, life is shimmering with happiness, joy, and bliss. Life is also twisting my stomach in knots and finding me crying at night.

Isn't that the way it goes? I've been determined for a while now to live the summer with gusto. To go all out for laughter, and joy, and golden moments. I'm going to keep on with that, even if I know the future holds tears.