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