You’re What!
Adopting – three children – at one time.
I don’t know why but the dude from the B-52’s voice always seems to come out of other people’s mouths when they find out we’ve decided and are fully in the process of adopting three children. You’ve probably seen or rather read Kirsten’s perspective on our adoption so I thought I’d share a little about what its like for me having had kids for a little over 4 months now. Since we’re not sharing their names on the internet Kirsten is calling them c1, c2 and r. But I thought I’d confuse you even more and so lets just call them Amelia, Wilbur and Orville. Amelia (Our almost 5-year old daughter), Wilbur (3-year old son) and Orville (19-month old son). Why those names? I don’t know, maybe someday I’ll do a search and replace and put in their real ones.
Wilbur is still figuring out how to annunciate which makes for some interesting sounding words. Particularly the word truck. Kirsten tells me they all use extremely foul language when they talk about trucks at that age. For example we would be riding in the van and he’d see, for the 397th time in 15 minutes that he sees a truck and will announce – “I see a big *uck! He got over it real quick after a couple of tastes of Lifebuoy. Relax, I’m kidding of course. We’re working on it and it sounds much less crude.
Speaking of mispronunciation, apparently neither Amelia or Wilbur had ever heard of soccer. So they both called it cocker – we worked quite a bit on that word putting emphasis on the ‘S’ sound.
Amelia: “We going to cocker tonight?”
Kirsten & I: “No, we’re going to ssssssssssoccer tonight – say it like this – sssssssssoccer”
Amelia: “sssssssssss cocker”
Us: “No sweetie, theres no “cah” sound. It’s just sssssssoccer.”
Amelia: “Ssssssssssssssoccer”
Us: “Yes! Very good!”
Wilbur: “We go to cocker tonight?”
Amelia is a lot of fun. When they first moved home we did a lot of playing where I would be a monster or some other ‘thing’ that would pick them up and toss them onto the couch or the chair. After about a week and a half I started to get kind of tired. (That feeling hasn’t gone away yet, and from what I’ve heard, it won’t for at least another 16 – 20 years.) She would ask Kirsten if I was going to play with them when I got home and Kir would tell her yes. Then when I’d get home she’d want to be picked up and have me act like a monster and chase her around the living room. Her equation for play is as follows:
Which is a fine equation as long as I have more energy than they do. Which usually isn’t the case. When I started playing with them doing regular things like driving cars on the coffee table or anything other than picking them up – Amelia started asking if I would play with them, while I was playing with them. Weird.
Who does Number Two Work for?
We’re potty training Wilbur – and without getting into too many details he’s got #1 down except for aiming and the whole part about actually telling us when he needs to go. Although last night Wilbur was in the bath tub playing and I walked into the boys room to get his pajamas out, when I went back in the bathroom he was sitting in the tub with this panicked look on his face. I ask what’s wrong and he says “I need to go potty.” Thankfully at this point I had finished bathing him so real quickly I get him out, dry him enough that he’s not dripping and get him to the toilet. He’s a little short so we have a concordance of the bible on the floor, he stands on that and lets loose. Dude wasn’t kidding. I was pretty happy he held it and didn’t go it the tub.
Turns out though he’s pretty good at holding other stuff to. Namely the pooh. We’ve given up on trying to teach him that he needs to go in the potty while putting him in pull up diapers. It’s like saying “We really want you to go in the toilet but since you’re gonna crap your pants anyway we figure we’ll just put you in pants it’s okay to crap in.” We don’t get it, little guy waits a couple days and then has a man size steamer in his underpants in the morning and a smile on his face.
Make em say Uhh, Uhh Na Na Na Na
Orville is a funny little guy but he’s taking his good old time learning to talk. So everthing is ‘Uhh.’ Although he can say Ma Ma, Da Da, Hi and Hiyah. Just enough words to greet Kirsten or me and then Judo chop us. If he starts talking in the same way he started walking it will be 4 words one day and then he probably won’t shut up the next. He didn’t really roll over or crawl much and then two days before we brought the kids home he started walking. He understands most of what we say, so that’s good but since he is lacking in speech and a lot of times we’re telling him to not touch this or that we get a Uhh then a Whaah followed by fake crying. All together though, he’s a lot of fun. He might be the only baby we’ll ever have and we’re enjoying him a lot.
Half-up, half-down and lots of pink
Amelia has a really well developed personality and because of the background she came from she’s a bit motherly so we have some issues in terms of us being the adults and her being a child. She really seems to be thriving in our home though and she learns very well. She just started preschool and its so cool to know she’s making friends and learning. She was so cute on her first day of school. Someday I’ll post a picture. Being a father to a little girl is still kind of wierd to me, being with the boys seems so much more natural, probably because I only have brothers. She’s getting to do things that, without all the stuff they had to go through, would have never done.
My parents (Gramps and Grammy) got her a bicycle, not for her birthday (which is coming soon I am reminded almost daily) but just because. They feel like they’ve missed out on her for the 4 some years she wasn’t with us yet. And we all have, but she really brings a dynamic to our house that makes it different, better than if it were just the boys.
Kirsten does her hair (half-up/half-down most of the time) and helps her with her clothes and I get to be the big mean guy who doesn’t give in to her pouty face and won’t let her get off her bike when she runs over a pebble making her wobble on her training wheels. But I also get to be the guy who walks with her as she rides her shiny pink bike around the block for the first time in her life. And someday I’ll be the guy who walks her down the aisle to get married. (Aaaah!) But knowing that before that happens we’ve got a lot of ground to cover and a lot of learning to do makes these days of adjustment seem like they are moving fast already.
My Dad can beat up your Dad!
Kirsten posted about how many months until Orville is 18. It’s a lot. So far we’ve had a few hard days and a lot of fun and someday we’ll have an awesome story to tell. From 2 to 5, two jobs to one, from orphans to adopted sons and daughters, from a couple to a family. God does a lot with a little time doesn’t He? By the way, if we don’t have any other kids I’ll be 45 when Orville is 18.
I come home to a house with toy snakes and bugs on the floor, loud voices and a little girl that doesn’t think there’s such a thing as too much lip gloss. So while it might be quite a noisy house with 3 kids who don’t yet understand what it means to use ‘inside voices’ and parents who don’t yet understand just what the heck we’re supposed to be doing it’s a nice home. One might even say a Love Shack. A Funky little shack. Funky little shack.
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