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.
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.
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| Winner Circle |
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