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

The Care and Feeding of Orphans (who call you Dibilka)

It's me here, Dibilka. That's Russian slang for Dumb Ass. I know, I know. It hurt my pious ears too when I found out. This whole time I thought it was a term of endearment. Babushka is grandmother. Dedushka is grandfather. I just assumed Dibilka meant kind woman who takes me in and loves me as her own child even though I'm an ungrateful snot.

It's probably not hard to guess that the lack of writing tells it's own story. The last few days have taken my emotions on such a cruel trip that I decided to skip the travelog. I don't want to be overly dramatic here - it's just that some memories in our lives don't need to be relived through the written word. I call those days 'Once & Done', which I borrowed from the name of my favorite insect killer.

When we returned home from Utah, we met with a translator to firm up some of our house rules and explain that real life in the Collins house looks a tad different than what they had seen the previous weeks with vacations and time off work. Although we love to have fun, it takes some serious sacrifice and work from everyone to keep our busy lives afloat. Like, serious teamwork.

The kids had a long list of grievances to share with the translator. She graciously spared me most of the details. My favorite complaint was that we say "no" to everything they want and they felt they were living in a prison here. First I was shocked. Then I was angry. And then it dawned on me - these kids were absolutely right. It is like a prison here. There is a game room, team sports, a craft center, recreational activities within our gates, meals cooked regularly, TV, access to educational opportunities...all this with not much more than a bad record and beating heartbeat needed to participate.

I've decided to let them out of jail. No longer will they be passively entertained and served. No longer prisoners with no liberty. They choose to work, they earn the privilege of play. That's the difference between a prison and a family. Watch out free world, here we come.

Now back to my feelings. Another thing that pains me is my humanness. I am nothing more than a bad guy wearing a good guy facade because a true good guy wouldn't anger when their service wasn't met with gratitude. When I was in India I reflected on the story of the 10 Lepers and even wrote about it after serving in various colonies there. I could bore you with paragraphs detailing the many ways this pertains to me now, but I think I'll just share it with you and let you ponder (if you must).

In this story, the gift was not dependent on gratitude. 10 had leprosy, 10 were healed. As for the one who showed gratitude, the greater gift was possible. When someone truly possesses gratitude and appreciates his own limitations, his dependence on God increases, which in turn invites God into every aspect of his life. How tragic for the 9 who didn't fully partake of the gift.

Wow. That paragraph really makes me think.

Today is Sunday. The dreaded tserkov. I awoke before anyone in the house, suited up with my blind optimism armor, woke 7 children and a chaperone, wished Aaron good luck and drove across town to pick up our translator. I didn't get the message that she would be unable to attend church today until after I was there, but the disappointment didn't phase me. I turned around and drove happily to church,  somehow believing it would all work out for the best. Already 20 minutes late, I tiptoed in to join my family on the overflowing pew, smiling as sarcastic and well meaning members of the congregation shrugged their shoulders and pointed to their watches. I mouthed the words, "I overslept."

I'm pretty sure Sasha is meditating.

As soon as I was seated at the end of the pew and properly settled, something at the far end of our row caught my eye. It was Ilona and she wanted me to come sit by her. Naturally. I stood up, hoisted my overfilled bag on my shoulder, and reversed my walk of shame past all those familiar nodding faces and took my place on the opposite side of the bench. I wasn't there 5 minutes when I realized I had forgotten something at home that I promised the children's song leader. I pretended to focus on the beautiful sermon but counted the minutes until it was time for a music break, so I could make a run home. By this time, Macoy had developed his familiar Sunday stomach ache so he accompanied me on my errand.

30 seconds. That's all it took for me to jam the car in park, run in the house, grab the music and get back outside. Somehow the dog, Ellie Mae, had wandered outside and decided she would like to sun herself on the sweltering driveway. Macoy was out of the car with full throttle tears, begging me not to take him back to church. I called to Ellie but she didn't budge. I called louder. Nothing. I started threatening that if I had to come over there she would be sorry because I'd drag her furry behind all the way inside...you can see where this is going. She had no intention of moving. Donning my 5 inch wedge heels and wiping sweat off my forehead, I started the drag as I listened to the symphony of wails coming from the little darling in the suit and tie standing beside me on the driveway.

10:02 am, Sunday July 21, 2013, it hit me. This is what my life has been reduced to. Coercing every living thing around me into doing things they simply don't want to do.

Back to church. The heavens aligned and another Russian speaking friend was there today. He offered to help us translate a special sunday school class we made up just for our kids. The missionaries taught a simple lesson about Jesus Christ. It went well until the object lesson containing an egg encountered some difficulties and elicited some fu's from Ilona. As I watched the yoke drip down, I had to agree with her. When the formal lesson was over, we had some time to kill so we took turns sharing our testimonies with the kids. I shared my belief in God and the knowledge that he helps each one of us through our trials. I finished speaking, but in my heart I knew I wasn't done. After the missionaries expressed their thoughts, I shared the following story with the kids (this is a very simplified version of the dream, but I only felt it was right to share these particular details).

One April night our family prayed for each of you. That was a usual occurrence for us. This particular night I asked that God would watch over and protect you and as I slept, I had an interesting dream. I dreamt that we were all talking together, but I paid particular attention to Sasha because I knew he needed help. He was crying (this made the kids laugh as Sasha pointed to himself and said "you"?! - no matter how many times we go over this with him he still thinks you means me). Then I woke up. Jill called me the next morning from Ukraine to tell me something was wrong. Sasha was on the soccer field crying. A strange babushka had come to pick up the girls (I asked if they remembered that day...of course they did). The next day I got on a plane to Ukraine, not even sure of why I was going. When I met you, I knew you were the same kids I saw in my dream. Now you're here, and I know it's for a special purpose. If you remember only one thing from your visit to America, I hope it's this: God knows you. God loves you. And God cares about everything that is going on in your life. You being here with us today is proof of that.

It was actually a good day. Yana (the chaperone from Ukraine who is staying with us this week) made us a delicious Borsch and somehow our wedding video made it to the DVD player. We all had a laugh and then the kids wanted to watch a few more videos of our kids growing up. On the surface it was lovely, but my heart hurt as I watched Sasha close his eyes and fall asleep while the pictures danced across the TV screen. It's all just too much to take in.

My feelings were similar to the other night as we talked with the translator. Opposite and extreme. As angry as I was at the inconsiderate and sometimes cruel way we've been treated, my heart could have burst wide open as I listened to them share details of their own tragic childhoods. I've never experienced such tandem madness and sadness before. Those kind of feelings are becoming more familiar to me, and I want to push them away like an unwelcome guest. But just when I do, they find a way to sneak in the back door or even crawl in through an open window. And too bad it's not only me they've come to see.

Prison at the Collins House

Not happy about their dental work

This is what happens when you tell me you're bored

Cooking with Yana

Soup kitchen line. Serving Ukrainian borsch.

Discovering Dinosaurs and Other Great Adventures

I soooo feel for this guy.

We took the kids to an indoor pool and this is the lucky lifeguard that was assigned to the water slide where Sasha wanted to spend his time. Take notice of the ominous sky in the picture. Our original plan was to go to an outdoor pool with a high dive and we had psyched the kids up for the adventure, only to have our plans derailed by a lightning storm. So naturally Sasha pouted and complained and once we Aaron finally convinced him to get out of the car and into the pool, he had to make the adventure every bit as exciting and risky as a high dive. No diving, no running, no sliding, no going down backwards...those rules were all meant for everyone except Sasha.

The lifeguard started out strong. With a floatie tucked tightly in one hand, his other hand proudly holding his bellowing whistle, he would correct Sasha at every misstep. "No running!""Feet first down the slide!", etc. etc. To no avail.

As time went on, the whistle went from a loud bellow to more of a question. The end tone had this inflection that seemed to say, "Hey fella, don't you know I'm in charge here and you're making me look like a fool?" He would shout half hearted commands and then cross his fingers that Sasha would comply.

Towards the end, I watched the emergence of a completely defeated lifeguard. He actually started turning his back to check the clock when he saw Sasha coming down the slide. The energy to stop him was just too much and it was easier to look away and pretend it wasn't happening. 8:25, 8:26, 8:27...all he had to do was make it to 8:30 when he could sound the final blow of his whistle to clear the pool for the night.

And can you guess what I did this entire time? I sat on the side bench and pretended I didn't know him.

Sasha in the black shorts running

The ole' scratch of the head as he watched him get out of the pool to start his sprint

Checking the clock as Sasha plunges into the pool

Judge if you will, but I experienced the equivalent of "bonk". It's a term for athletes described as the sudden stall and depletion of energy. This statue titled 'Tired Man' knows exactly what I mean.

Earlier in the day we took the kids to Thanksgiving Point to check out the dinosaur museum, farm and garden mazes. Do I even need to say it? Total fu.

I typed this to the girls as they craned their necks looking at the T-Rex in the lobby:

Complete bewilderment. I don't think they had dinosaurs in Ukraine.

On to the sand and water table. The water rushes down as you try to build dams and habitats for the plastic dinosaurs scattered about. I got this one:

What??? I told Sasha it wasn't translating right. So Ilona helped him out. "Sasha say this for babies."

OK. On to the farm. Pony rides, goats, horses, chickens, smells...all fu.

Yes, that's Sasha holding his nose

Ilona and Alina were great sports as the pony rides were not the pinnacle of thrilling

After the farm everyone enjoyed going inside and eating ice cream. Sasha loved being with my nephew and it's the first time we've seen him actually look up to a peer for cues, instead of doing silly things to try to impress. That is a huge step in the right direction. As they were sitting at the farm, they tried out some google translate. Sasha asked Austin how old he was. Seventeen. As Sasha tried to explain that Austin was older than him, he typed this:

Good times with Austin, Sasha's new friend

Saying goodbye to some of our Andersen cousins

We ended the day with a trip to our other favorite shake shop, Iceburg. The kids were happy until I accidentally ordered Alina a strawberry shake instead of vanilla. I quickly exchanged it, but changing her mood wasn't as easy. Her sullenness quickly spread to Ilona and they both started their loud Russian rantings as if we were subjecting them to some kind of strange torture. 

Each new day seems to bring me a wide variety of new confusion. Things seem so backwards. These kids are great at saying "Sank You" most of the time, but lack the social graces, or is it gratitude, that would keep them from telling you that everything you plan for them is stupid. They fight against boundaries, yet lax boundaries leave them even more feisty. They expect to be treated as equals, yet they are openly prejudice. They will hurt others and the next minute run to someone's rescue.

It pains me to think of what must be going on inside each precious one of them. Helping someone through a lifetime of hurt and mistrust is not an easy or a quick fix. We continue to be patient with the hard times and positive during the good ones. Sometimes I'd rather take the 'kick me' sign off my back and call it a day, I'm not gonna lie. But I'm convinced there's no better place for the 9 of us to be this summer than right where we are. The work is dirty and it's divine, but it's ours to finish and we power through with all the grace we can muster. 

Canyons, Cousins and a Birthday Celebration

I'm ashamed to admit that one of my favorite pastimes is laughing at other people's mishaps, or "fails" as my kids call them. I enjoy watching a good slip and fall on wet cement or a packed tray of steaming food tumbling out of an impatient waitresses hand - things like that. Last year we visited a cave in Idaho and as we waited in line, we watched a steady stream of what must have been 30 people pile out of cars with matching t-shirts and a resemblance that was uncanny. Faces that were about 3 times longer than they were wide, noses that looked like carrots that had been harvested a little too soon, long legs that seemed to grow straight out of their necks, and chalky colored skin with blotches of  redness where they had inadvertently missed applying sunscreen the day before. My sister (who joins me in my sick humor) and I had a good laugh about the fact that nobody in that family needed a shirt to announce that they belonged, and also, who in the heck wears matching shirts these days?

Apparently we do.

Now before you laugh you need to hear me out, and also know that if you make fun, I'll have to hurt you because it was all my mom's idea. And I think it was the best idea in the whole world.

These t-shirts told our host kids she understood that we have ginormous families and even we can't keep them straight sometimes, so she color-coded them. They spoke of our bond. And they said "you belong with us."

You might notice that there is one orange guy out of place. I'm not naming names, but he may have been a little irritable at the time because Aaron may have given him a taste of his own medicine by passing a slight bit of gas directly on his leg. Before you judge, just remember that desperate times call for desperate measures.

When we arrived at Millcreek canyon (one of my favorite places on earth) and started walking down the trail to our picnic site, Sasha, in usual fashion, started telling me that it was fu. He looked around, motioned with his hands to the trees, and the stream, and the mountain, and kept repeating his favorite word. I ignored him as we walked and then I told him to help me look for babushka. "Babushka?" he said with this enthusiastic, high-pitched delight. And then a huge grin replaced the scowl on his face and our walk turned to almost a run as he anticipated finding her. I swear I am trying to figure these kids out, but right now there's just no figuring. I brought him to one of the most beautiful places on earth, and none of that mattered to him. Not until he learned that babushka was there. I have a guess as to why, but you can draw your own conclusion here. Maybe these kids aren't as mysterious as we think.

Being the wise and observant guy that he is, grandpa "dedushka", made sure he had a job for Sasha to do when he arrived. They hauled firewood together and then set out to chop it. It became immediately obvious that this wasn't the first time Sasha had used an axe and wedge. The first few logs were split easily and quickly and a shirtless Sasha strutted around, very proud of himself. But dedushka, again being the wise guy that he is, brought along a log that he knew would be almost impossible to split. It was the piece of log where several branches had come together and the hardness seemed to mock Sasha at every excruciating stroke of the axe. We all had satisfying smiles as we watched him labor against the beast.

We were the first family to arrive, and luckily each subsequent family filtered in one at a time so the kids didn't have to meet everyone all at once. There was some expected awkwardness at first, but within no time, friendships and alliances were formed - teasing, chasing, bothering, tattling, ball throwing, teaching, learning and giggling filled the evening air as you would expect at any family reunion.

Sasha seemed to notice that we have dangerously cute girls in our family. The girls quickly noticed that we also have the worlds cutest baby in our family. Baby Aubree played her role perfectly last night. At 10 months old, naturally she chooses mom over anyone else. When she arrived, Ilona ran to her to say hello. I had told her earlier that there would be a baby there and she said, "Ilona love babies." When Aubree first saw her, her delicious baby smile turned into worry, and I was disappointed at the reality that as much as Ilona wanted to hold her, Aubree wasn't going to comply. Oh me of little faith. Aubree let down her guard and for almost the entire evening, she cooed and smiled as Ilona and Alina took turns holding and playing with her. Jonni (my sis in law, Aubree's mom) said that never happens. It was a first for her and it was our little manna in the desert miracle.

Meeting for the first time

Aubree getting worried

Still a little worried

Ahhh, here we go. 

Fast friends

There were some other firsts for our Ukrainian kids last night. Cooking hot dogs over an open fire. Playing in an icy cold stream. Being with a huge extended family. And Alina, oh that Alina. She started speaking English! Nevermind that she was parroting everything I say as she waggled her head and mocked me...she was SPEAKING ENGLISH! So of course I gave her some phrases to say to my brothers and sisters. "I am a stinker." "I can be a handful." Is that wrong of me? Admitting the problem is the first step to recovery, right? She's off to a great start.

And I saved the best for last. Yesterday our darling, smart, charming, hilariously funny Macie turned 9. She is the kind of girl that puts a chicken leash on her birthday list, and dictates that we all are present as she enjoys her traditional breakfast in bed. She keeps us in line each day by insisting proper apologies are made and that everything is equal and fair, but she would willingly give up everything she has if it meant making us happy. She completes our family in the most wonderful way and we are so blessed that we have been able to share the last 9 years with her. Happy Birthday my sweet Macie. I love you up to the sky!!