Happy 20th Anniversary to Us!

Twenty years ago yesterday, two starry-eyed, clueless kids were married. Family and friends forced smiles and held their breath, wondering if we could actually make a life together. We've made our share of mistakes along the way, but as I told Aaron in a card last night, "you are the only one capable of taking me to the beautiful places in life most people only see in their dreams." It's obvious we belong together.

Aaron spent the day at work, and so did I. I managed a car washing business for Sasha and Jaxon, helped the girls with their dog sitting, wiped away tears, broke up fights, cooked, cleaned, and planned for a romantic evening with my sweetheart.

Since going out on a real date is impossible right now, we would go in on a real date. The media room was transformed into a cozy dining room, Thai food was delivered, and the girls were hired as waitresses. Aaron texted me and told me to be ready at 5 to shop for a new ring. I texted him and told him to be dressed in his best. At 5:30pm, looking fresh and in love, we left the house for the 30 minutes we dared, tried on a beautiful new ring, and then returned home to unveil the surprise to Aaron.

With a carefully chosen playlist in the background, we closed the door and ate a quiet dinner alone. Our moment was interrupted by Sasha who begged to go to "Big Mac" (that's what he calls the store). He and Jaxon sped away on their bikes while we finished our romantic dinner. Aaron made his way downstairs and I was still upstairs when we heard, "MA?! PA?!" bellowing through the house. The boys were standing by our room with hands concealed behind their backs. When both Aaron and I got to them, their hands came out from hiding and revealed a dozen red roses and a box of chocolates. The girls had given us their own roses and chocolates the day before. We felt extremely loved.

The kids all gave us one last gift - 2 hours alone to watch one of our favorite movies. They behaved themselves and only interrupted about five times.

After the movie, an exhausted Aaron excused himself to go to bed. I hung with the kids in the kitchen and helped them scrounge up a late night snack. Then something unexpected happened. Ilona asked if she could say a prayer. Alina did too. We gathered together, arms folded, heads bowed, and listened to perhaps their first prayer ever uttered. I wish Aaron could have been there. It was more beautiful than any new dress. Or romantic dinner. Or diamond ring.

Emotional Monday

Monday I had my first real conversation with Ilona. We swam in the pool together and talked about boys, periods, her Italian mama and papa, and school. With no google translate to rely on, we took our precious time, patiently listening to one another form our thoughts into words that had more meaning than the simple adjectives we have relied on up until now. We each have so much to say, but our language differences necessitate that we continually hold our thoughts in reserve. It's frustrating.

What's also frustrating is that my English speaking children have the same struggle to communicate. After a tussle broke out between Faith and Jaxon, which ended in blows, they each took a long and painful time out while the others continued to swim. I sat down next to Jaxon to talk. I told him I missed the boy he used to be and asked him if he was proud of his behavior since the kids had been here. "No." His eyes welled up with tears that quickly overflowed into streams down his sunburned cheeks. "It's really hard."

When it was time to leave the pool another tussle broke out. This time it was between Ilona and Sasha in a fight for the front seat. I arrived on the scene a minute too late to find an infuriated Ilona with a deep, purple bite mark on her arm. Apparently the bite was in retaliation to her punch. I ordered Sasha into the 3rd row seat (his worst kind of punishment) and we drove home in verbal silence, but with the piercing sounds of Russian hard rock blaring from his cheap Samsung phone.

I pulled into the garage, slowly and silently making my way into the house. The girls went for a bike ride and I was glad to have them gone. Once inside, I found myself awkwardly alone with Sasha in the kitchen. I couldn't even look at him. I busied myself with dishes, then half-heartedly scrolled through emails on my phone - anything to keep from having to look up at him and meet his gaze. He watched me for awhile and then said, "Mom, you okay?"
"No Sasha. Mom is not okay."
He told me he was soddy.
I told him he can't hurt people. Besides making me sad, it's not right. It's never right. He hugged me and I hugged him back.
"I still love you Sasha."
"Okay."

Ilona returned from her bike ride and clung to my side. As we stood there together, she held out her arm to remind me of the bite. Inside me a dam was breaking but I fought with everything I had to keep it intact. She looked at me with pleading eyes and I started talking. "I'm so sorry you are hurt. I'm sorry for it all. The bite, your confusion...your life. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. That's what a mom is supposed to do. I'm sorry your brother has had to be a parent for so long and neither of you should be expected to fill these stupid roles. I'm sorry I don't understand you and you don't understand me. I'm sorry for your hurt."

She just stared at me.

"You don't understand anything I'm saying, do you?"

She nodded.

I made dinner, still in somber silence. The kids played together and it felt peaceful for the first time that day. When we were all gathered at the table, Sasha announced that it was his turn to say the prayer. We fought mightily to conceal our shock at his request, while inside we were bursting with joy. Perhaps this is the first time in his life he has prayed. We will never know. But to have him offer a prayer in our home, at our table, with our family, will be a moment we will treasure forever. His words were foreign to us, until he expressed gratitude to God for our family (spasibo...Aaron, Tara, Faith, Jaxon, Macie and "Micola").

When dinner was finished and dishes were done, the kids scurried outside to play (all except Jaxon who went to the store with Aaron). They were laughing and jumping together on the trampoline and I decided to surprise them by bringing dessert out to them. I whipped up a batch of caramel apples and just as I was scraping the last of the caramel out of the pan, an earthquake once again rumbled through our house.

Sasha and Alina ran in shouting for my phone. Sasha typed that mother of all swear words in google translate and said Macie was saying it to him. I marched outside and grabbed Macie to give her a piece of my mind and send her to her room for the night. Satisfied, Alina and Sasha jumped in the pool for a swim. Then Macoy ran in crying. Ilona and Faith came inside yelling about Sasha, explaining that it was him, not Macie, who was saying the bad words and pushing Macoy down.

I ordered Sasha and Alina out of the pool. Now I had 6 kids surrounding me, all vying to scream out their side of the story louder than the next guy. This was a no-win for me. Without caring that the kids couldn't understand my words I cried out, "EVERYONE to your rooms. You are tired. And grumpy. And unreasonable. And mean. And for the love....QUIT SAYING THE F WORD IN MY HOUSE."

That was it. Five angry kids marched to their room and Sasha stood in the kitchen just long enough to take off the watch we had given him and throw it on my desk. He stormed into his room, slamming the door and predictably changing his clothes. Aaron refers to them as his "mad pants". The taking off of the watch and changing back into his old clothes has become a sign to us that he does not need us. Moments later I was startled by the slamming of the front door. Sasha was gone.

Upstairs I found the other kids dutifully changed into their pajamas, and Alina sitting in the window ledge, tears in her eyes, watching Sasha walk down the driveway. I assured her he would come back. She wouldn't look at me.

I returned to the kitchen and with nervous energy, began the task of cleaning up the caramel apple mess. Before long, something outside caught my eye. Sasha was back. He paced around outside. I tried to be inconspicuous as I stormed around the kitchen, but really I was focused on him. He sat at the table outside and didn't move. Aaron and Jaxon came home and walked past him, into the kitchen and asked what was going on. Without taking a break from my cleaning, I briefed him on the story. I stole a look back outside and realized Sasha was gone from the table. I sighed, picturing a search through the neighborhood to find him and bring him home. Then again, something caught my eye.

Sasha was on the porch swing. He rocked for several minutes before coming inside. Without saying a word, he sat down at the kitchen table and watched me finish cleaning.

With the last swipe of the countertop, I told Sasha to come upstairs with me. I gathered all the kids together and ordered them to get a pair of socks and meet me downstairs. WHAT??? They looked so confused. "You heard me, kids. Get your socks and get downstairs. NOW."

I pushed the coffee table back and arranged the kids in a circle. The Collins kids now figured out what was happening and became excited for the others to catch on. It was time for a game of "Knock Your Socks Off". The rules are: you have to stay on your hands and knees and the object is to pull the other guys socks off while protecting yours from being pulled off. The last guy with at least one sock on wins. Mark, set, go.

Four rounds later, our sides ached from laughter and hurts were forgotten. Two of the rounds found Sasha and Aaron in the finals, man to man, wrestling with all their might on the floor. It needed to happen. It all needed to happen.

I handed out hugs, kisses, and I love you's to 7 children once again and then pleaded with them to get in bed. But before they scattered, I reminded them how much better it feels when we aren't hurting each other. We are all searching, but it is love that holds the key to the answers. Someday I hope they get that.

Winner Circle

Gravity

"I stayed up until 5:00 this morning," Jaxon casually announced as he poured a bowl of Apple Jacks.
"What on earth were you doing?" I wasn't even sure I wanted the answer.
"Watching movies with Sasha."

The day before that he ran away (wonder where he got that idea?). The most violent computer game we used to own was Angry Birds. Now there are angry men and angry robots and angry avatars sneaking onto our screen. The mother of all swear words has unwittingly rung through my stereo. Bedtimes are fu. So are rules. Macoy, innocent 6 year old that he is, said he felt like shooting a couple of the kids. Faith complained she has had more bad words going through her mind the past few weeks than she has in her life. Macie's sassiness has reached epic proportions. What's going on here?

I blame gravity.

Sasha and Jaxon- demonstrating gravity at work during church service

Gravity pulls you down whether you invite it to or not. Usually a harmless force that keeps us grounded, it has become an unrelenting R-rated power that has descended on our G-rated house. And we are fighting with our lives for lift off.

Was this to be expected? Yes. Is it easy? No. It's consuming. And frightening. And exhausting.

Spiritual law dictates that good will triumph over evil. While in the midst of the battle, that promise seems unfathomable. But we have two choices. We give into our fear, or we let our fear give way to faith.

"Faith, to be faith, must center around something that is not known. Faith, to be faith, must go beyond that for which there is confirming evidence. Faith, to be faith, must go into the unknown. Faith, to be faith, must walk to the edge of the light, and then a few steps into the darkness." -Pres. Boyd K. Packer

Faith is the only thing that will get this job done.

(*A note here. To the reader: I write this blog for neither kudos nor criticism. I share it with you because I love having friends along for the ride. You might say, as will I in a year looking back, "Seems easy enough. No music, no movies, no computer, no snacks, no problem. Lock them in their rooms at bedtime, wash their mouths out with soap every time a curse word slips, bang pots and pans in their ears so they wake up in the morning and make every rule in your family so gall darn rewarding that they step all over each other just to obey."

To myself in a year I say this: It's not that easy. These kids are 2 in terms of needs for guidance and 30 in terms of exposure to life. Every minute is a balance to offer them choices, incentives, independence and some semblance of control. It's dirty work and it carries with it great risks. I stand here with mud on my face, making countless judgement calls and praying that where I fall short, God will make up the difference. It's all I know to do.)

This past week at our house resembled an Amway convention (or substitute your favorite MLM company name here). I played the part of the motivational speaker. "If you can dream it, you can do it." "Make your life a masterpiece." "A goal properly set is halfway reached." Only at my house there were no fancy lights, stadium seating and high dollar entrance fees. It was more like this. "OK kids. Look, I'm tired of doling out the money for your things. Let's decide what you need for school when you go back to Ukraine and I'll help you find a way to earn the money for it." Sasha wants a phone and a soccer uniform, among other things. The girls want jeans, among other things. I want them to know what it feels like to set a goal, work hard, and own something they earned themselves.

I secured a dog walking job for the girls. Besides fighting about who is going to pick up the poop, it's gone reasonably well. I also hired them to clean out our chicken coop. Ilona spent her first $10 earnings on a jumbo size bag of M&M's at Costco. I guess the jeans will have to wait. Alina saved hers.

Sasha's first real job was loading and unloading a moving truck. It was physically demanding work and he impressed us all with his strength and endurance through the entire job.

His second job was at our house, helping a hired contractor tighten up the security of our chicken coop. (Since Sasha seems to know a lot about prisons, I figured this was the perfect job.) He gave input on ideas, worked tirelessly, and was so fond of the contractor that he told me he was going to grow a beard just like him.

We were really on a roll. I called a friend to tell her I had an incredibly hard working, willing 16 year old who was looking for work. She has a ranch, and was happy to offer him a job of staining a newly built tack shed. When I explained the job to Sasha, I told him he was painting a fence...ease of translation. He agreed and we planned for Saturday afternoon.

After a tiring morning of boating with all the kids, I reminded Aaron that we needed to take Sasha to his painting job at the ranch. He said, "Who the heck wants to take him to work?" Sure as heck not me. "But I told Sasha if he could dream it, he could do it. We can't crush his dreams, "I whined to Aaron.
So we loaded up the boys (Jaxon is catching on to this money making thing) and made the hour drive to the ranch.

Upon arrival, the boys were each handed a paint brush and a can of stain. They were given instructions verbally, and of course, with charades. Our plan was to drop them off to work and our friend would bring them back. We had 7 others waiting on us at home. But before we left, we thought it would be best to make sure all was well. They started off strong, but we noticed Sasha's speed was much better than his quality. Drips of stain oozed down the sides of the wall so Aaron tried to give further instructions. Sasha balked and continued on. He corrected again. Sasha asked for my phone.

Me:

Like, who the heck cares? Fence. Wall. No diff. Pick up your brush and get moving.

Sasha clicked his tongue and donned the attitude. My next note:

He picked up his brush. For about 20 minutes. Then he was done. He sat down and said, "soddy".
Ya, I'm soddy too.

Very very hard work staining a wall for 30 minutes

Thursday, Sasha also received his first real punishment...for throwing me in the pool with my clothes on. After I got dried off, I found him inside getting one of Faith's famous henna tattoos so I had her add a little something to it. See if he messes with me again.

Faith's handiwork

I actually think he quite liked the tattoo. So my revenge was not complete until the next night when it was his turn to take a surprise swim in his clothes. We had just returned from a friend's baptism (which he really loved) and I asked if he could help me with something outside. When we got to the pools edge, I made my move. Total fail. I grabbed him and he didn't budge as much as an inch. In my panic, I jumped on him like a koala bear and he must have been thinking, "this woman is craaaazy."As I wrapped on to him with no good plan and clearly no advantage, Jaxon saw the commotion, ran outside, and pushed us both into the pool. My screams alerted the other kids inside, and within minutes, every last one of them had either pushed, or been pushed into the pool. Dresses, pajamas, clothes - no discrimination here. "Family swim ya'all!"

With the pool waters settled and all of us ready for bed, a shout bellowed out from across the house. "Ma!" It was Sasha. He had something for me. A gift, reserved for precisely the right moment. I said, "For me?"
"Yeaaazzz."He grinned from ear to ear.
"Thank you, Sasha. I love it."

Then he asked for some nails. I hesitated, so he asked me to come into his room. Lined up along his bed were 6 prize soccer ribbons, also held in reserve for precisely the right moment. He was ready to hang them up. And he was ready to rearrange his room. Out with the fu artwork hanging on the wall. And he begged...could I please print out all the pictures we've taken since he's been here and hang them up? Absolutely.

Next it was Ilona's turn. She excitedly invited me up to her room to see her newly hung certificates for tennis and running and honestly, I'm not sure what else. And photos. Beautiful photos of her life, stuck right on my newly painted wall with duct tape.

And Alina. No certificates yet. No ribbons. Just a desire to dance and sing...and to be noticed. Her pictures now grace our walls too.

Do we have lift off? Even just a smidge?

I know this post is long, but I do want to tell you about Sunday. Church was church. Sasha liked debating about Jesus with our translator friend. I'm glad I can't understand most of what he says. I just smile and picture that he is telling us how lovely and right this all feels to him. Ilona zoned off as she usually does, so it's hard to picture that she is saying anything particularly positive. Alina went to classes with Jaxon, giggling all the way.

Sunday evening I arranged a photographer. No matter what the future holds, I relish the fact that we were a family of 9, in every sense of the word, at least for 6 weeks in the summer of 2013. And every family needs a photo. As you can imagine, preparing the kids for the picture was a nightmare. But by some miracle we got everyone's moods turned around by the time we arrived on location. A smiling army of children piled out of the car and it all seemed eerily perfect...until the moment I broke the news to Sasha that he couldn't wear his glasses in the pictures. I knew it. We are incapable of pulling off that kind of perfection.

They say that pictures tell 1,000 words. They also tell lies. Because when you see the photos, you will not believe what I've told you about Sasha. I just happen to be married to a magician whose life work is to make children smile even when they want to kick him. He was brilliant. And I can't wait for you to see.

When we arrived home, Sasha's mood turned a 180 for the better. Teenagers. He asked to use my phone, called his chaperone Yana (who just left our house earlier that day), and proceeded with an endless conversation. The house was loud and full of chatter, so he took the call outside. As I stood in the kitchen, that's when I first noticed it. Out on the porch he was talking, and laughing...and rocking on the porch swing.

The porch swing is very significant. Last week during church I shared a dream I had with the kids, but I left out some of the details. I only told them that I knew Sasha needed help. In reality, the dream was a quest to offer Sasha something that no child should miss out on in their lives - rocking with mama. Through the entire dream I was fixated on rocking him, realizing how awkward that is because he is a 16 year old boy, but feeling like it was a lost piece of his life he needed to find while he was in America with me.

When I woke, I couldn't shake the images from my dream. I got on the internet and started a search for "big rocking chairs". Then I laughed at myself. A typical rocking chair was clearly not the answer. I settled on a porch swing. Somehow, some way, we would find ourselves on the porch swing together and without him realizing it, we would be slowly healing wounds from his past with every sway back and forth.

As I watched him from the kitchen window Sunday night, the dream came back to me. I made my way outside and sat down next to him. He was still on the phone, but as he talked, we rocked. When he finished his conversation, we remained on the swing, swaying together in the silent night air. After some time, I asked him if he wanted to hear a story. He laughed and said stories are for babies. I laughed too and typed this:

For whatever reason, it was important to me that he knew the swing was for him. His eyes lit up and he couldn't contain his smile - especially when Alina and Ilona came outside and he shared the news with them. Ilona snapped a picture and then it was time to say goodnight. I hugged each one of the kids tightly and told them I loved them. And tonight, all 3 said, "I love you too."

Happy Hump Day

IT'S HUMP DAY!!!!

Today, the halfway point to crazy, we are going behind the scenes for a rare look at our beloved stage crew, aka the Collins kids.

What? What's that you say? The Ukranian darlings have been here 27 days and they only have 20 left so I waaaay missed the boat on celebrating halfway? That's not the only thing I've missed around here. Showers. Running. Sleeping. Answering emails. Quiet. Eating a meal without cucumbers. Walking into a store without someone saying 'bless your heart'. Control.

And you expect me to keep up on the calendar? Just let me celebrate my hump day. I earned it.

stage crew (noun): those underappreciated people in black who work in the shadows during a show and take care of everything the actors can't.

Faith

Q: Why did your family host these kids?
A: To think about adoption.

Q: Is it harder or easier than you thought it would be?
A: Harder

Q: What has been your favorite thing?
A: Having a new friend.

Q: What has been the hardest thing?
A: Language, fights

Q: Have you learned anything about yourself or our family through this experience?
A: ???

Q: What do you hope happens at the end of hosting?
A: Maybe adopt

Jaxon

Q: Why did your family host these kids?

A: Because we can share our house.

Q: Is it harder or easier than you thought it would be?

A: Easier

Q: What has been your favorite thing?

A: When Sasha hangs out with me and my friends.

Q: What has been the hardest thing?

A: Sasha can't ride the dirt bike.

Q: Have you learned anything about yourself or our family through this experience?

A: No

Q: What do you hope happens at the end of hosting?

A: We adopt them.

Macie

Q: Why did your family host these kids?

A: We knew it was a BIG experience that our family could have for the rest of our lives.

Q: Is it harder or easier than you thought it would be?

A: Easier

Q: What has been your favorite thing?

A: Boating with them

Q: What has been the hardest thing?

A: Sometimes they yell when we try to talk to them, then they ignore us.

Q: Have you learned anything about yourself or our family through this experience?

A: Yes. That we need more kids in our family.

Q: What do you hope happens at the end of hosting?

A: We figure out that we will adopt them.

Macoy

Q: Why did your family host these kids?
A: To see if they like our house to stay with us forever.

Q: Is it harder or easier than you thought it would be?
A: Harder

Q: What has been your favorite thing?
A: When Sasha throws me in the pool and I don't land on my back or do a belly flop.

Q: What has been the hardest thing?
A: The kids are always fighting and they call us "dumb A".

Q: Have you learned anything about yourself or our family through this experience?
A: Mom is fun and mean.

Q: What do you hope happens at the end of hosting?
A: I hope they go back to Ukraine and then we will go get them. I just want to leave Sasha there because he eats lots of candy and dad told me he has 13 or 12 cavities and his breath stinks. He actually has to start brushing his teeth like 10 times a day.

Fade to black.

Work in Progress

Yesterday was painfully predictable. As a student of psychology I should have seen it. As a follower of the gospel of Jesus Christ I should have applied it. And as a grateful believer in the counsel of modern  day prophets I should have done it. Silly me, once again. (As riveting as this blog post promises to be, if you only have time to read one thing, click on the link above and read that. It's not about religion - it's about life.)

If there's one great lesson in life I've learned it's that I shouldn't forget the great lessons in life I've learned. Lessons aren't meant to be 'once and done' like those days I've had lately. They are continuously applicable if we just open our eyes to see. Just in case you haven't clicked on the link above yet, I'll paraphrase a little story in that article that has been visiting my mind the past grueling week. When President Hinckley was a young man he was sent on a mission to Preston, England and when he arrived he was poor in health and in spirit. He wrote a letter home explaining that he was wasting his time and his father's money. The reply back from his father simply said, "Dear Gordon. I have your recent letter. I have only one suggestion: Forget yourself and go to work."

Bottom line: work is food for the soul. And the problem with my approach these last weeks is that I was hogging it all for myself.

Yesterday I woke the troops at 8:30am and by 10:00 we were loaded in the car with rusty tools, dingy work gloves and some apprehensive attitudes. It was explained to the children that in our family we take time each week to do service for someone in need. And as luck would have it, Pops and Winnie (our dear family friends) had a need. They have several acres of property they are in the process of clearing and it sounded like a perfect job for our crew.

We rolled in to the dusty drive and the kids started their mumbles. But one by one, they dutifully got out of the car and began the first assignment - trash pick up. Everyone except Ilona. With arms folded and hip cocked she announced, "Ilona no do this in Ukraine. Ilona no. Fu."  To which I replied, "Ilona do this in America or Ilona no play in America." Again she said she would not do it. I walked away. It took less than 10 minutes of her defiantly watching the rest of us haul garbage before she joined in. We worked through the morning to move rocks, cut trees, pick roots, and clean the scattered garbage until we were exhausted from the heat and I felt like they had given a worthy effort.

Ilona no do this in Ukraine

This is where the day got interesting.

Happy voices sang along to the radio on the drive home.

After a stop at the grocery store, the kids helped carry the bags in.

Sasha cleaned out the entire fridge and organized it with the fresh food.

Ilona made eye contact, spoke to, and asked to go swimming with the girls to one of their friends houses (she is normally completely guarded when meeting new people).

Sasha said, "Sasha love you mama."

He helped prepare dinner.

Then he washed my car inside and out.

Ilona washed Aaron's.

When Aaron got home from work, I hardly took a breath as I recounted the days events to him. He laughed and said, "Tara, they're just tricking you!"

As I stood in the kitchen helping Yana put the finishing touches on dinner, I gave her the winky winky and congratulated her for threatening the kids and shaping up their behavior. She denied such talks and wrote me this:

And then she shrugged her shoulders and said, "magic!"

Yana requested that we eat dinner at the table that night. She clasped her hands together and said, "Makes kids feel close." Even though we eat dinner together every night, it's always with some at the bar and some at the table because of our numbers. I retrieved the extra leaf from storage and we arranged an intimate table for 10. Yana lit a candle and placed it in the center, explaining that it was a birthday gift she intended to use during dinner with each one of the special families she stayed with in America. And before we ate, she offered the prayer. The kitchen filled with noises of clattering plates, lively conversations, gracious thank you's and laughter that filled my ruptured heart with goodness. Yana was right. We felt close.

The time was late, but we indulged the pleading children in a game of tag. At just before midnight, with everyone tucked safely in their rooms, I melted wearily into bed. But not before I poured my heart out in gratitude to God. He handed me that day on a massive silver platter. And although I'm certain the leftovers in the coming days will probably never be that sweet, undoubtedly laced with grossities like salmonella poisoning, I'm relishing each satisfying moment of the day we forgot ourselves and got to work.

Fun times:

Boys introducing Sasha to American football

Alina

Running joke between the kids - teasing each other about who they love

Yana and Sasha hanging high so Jaxon can't reach 

More inside jokes