We didn't get much sleep last night, kept awake by anxiety and stress, although I suppose the fact we could be awake at all suggests somewhat less stress. In the early days we slept like stones for 8 to 10 hours.
Then Dimcho awoke at 5:30 and declared it was no longer night and he didn't want to sleep. Even Elisey begged him to be allowed to sleep five more minutes. But the Tiny Terror brooked no mercy, and eventually around 6:30 we all dragged ourselves up.
The rest of the morning has been quiet.
I may not post for a while. I've run out of ideas, and I don't really like writing post after post of complaints.
We wish every one a happy New Year!
Saturday, December 29, 2012
Friday, December 28, 2012
We get by with a little help, sometimes
We've hired an in-home helper, essentially a babysitter to watch the boys for a few hours even while we are home, so we don't have to be on high alert fourteen hours a day. She has quite a bit of experience and has been helpful in guiding us to calmer reactions to the boys' meltdowns.
Interestingly, over the past day Elisey has had more frequent meltdowns over smaller things. For example, last night he wasn't allowed to have seconds of cabbage, because he'd had a large plate to begin with and he will eat until his stomach hurts. I've tried to explain this in my pidgin Bulgarian, but he either can't or won't make the connection, or even if he understands intellectually, his years of going hungry in the orphanage overrides his brain.
There have been a couple of other incidents, making for an exhausting morning. We did have some good moments. Elisey wanted to draw a pizza, and figured out by himself (quite an achievement) how to trace the pieces of the toy pizza they have and did a credible job. We also spent some time counting up to 20, which both boys enjoyed a lot. It's not easy to stretch those minutes out to a whole day, unfortunately. Our babysitter, J, is here now, so Donna can take a needed nap and I can write a quick post and answer a few e-mails.
In addition to J we have several other experts to help us, although most of them are still on Christmas break. We'll catch up with them over the next couple of weeks.
Interestingly, over the past day Elisey has had more frequent meltdowns over smaller things. For example, last night he wasn't allowed to have seconds of cabbage, because he'd had a large plate to begin with and he will eat until his stomach hurts. I've tried to explain this in my pidgin Bulgarian, but he either can't or won't make the connection, or even if he understands intellectually, his years of going hungry in the orphanage overrides his brain.
There have been a couple of other incidents, making for an exhausting morning. We did have some good moments. Elisey wanted to draw a pizza, and figured out by himself (quite an achievement) how to trace the pieces of the toy pizza they have and did a credible job. We also spent some time counting up to 20, which both boys enjoyed a lot. It's not easy to stretch those minutes out to a whole day, unfortunately. Our babysitter, J, is here now, so Donna can take a needed nap and I can write a quick post and answer a few e-mails.
In addition to J we have several other experts to help us, although most of them are still on Christmas break. We'll catch up with them over the next couple of weeks.
Thursday, December 27, 2012
A day in the life...
All children love routine; institutionalized kids thrive and survive on it. Here is our daily routine, to the best that we can keep it:
We've even begun to recite this with the boys, which helps them feel a sense of regularity.
We've even begun to recite this with the boys, which helps them feel a sense of regularity.
6:30 Dobro utro! Good morning
7:00 Vesnik i café. Newspaper
and coffee (only for Mama and Tatko)
7:30 Zakuska.
Breakfast
8:30 Na vola.
To the playground
9:30 Igrame.
We play
10:30
Zakuska. Snack
11:00
Igrame. We play
12:30 Obed. Lunch
1:00 Igrame, ili Gospozha Jessica.
4:00 Na vola. To
the playground
5:00 Igrame. We
play
6:00 Vecheria. Dinner
7:00 Banya.
Bath
7:30 Knigi.
Books
8:00
Leka nosht i hlyep. Good night, and bread
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
Rainy Boxing Day
Christmas Day was a bit strained. Although the boys were thrilled by their new scooters, their happy mood quickly evaporated like a teaspoon of water in the Mojave, and we had the usual sequence of meltdowns, bad mouthing, and so on. It gets tiring after a while.
Dimcho continues to ramp up his meltdowns, making demands he knows will not be met and having a screaming fit, throwing things, hitting people, and so on. He's smaller so it's easier to take, and it's interesting to see his anger issues emerge, when he was so placid and cheerful in the beginning.
It rained this morning, but stopped enough that we could go to the playground and ride scooters. There was some friction when Elisey fell in a small puddle and wanted to go home (the boys have this weird aversion, even phobia, to getting this clothes wet, certainly something drilled into them at the orphanage) but Dimcho wanted to stay. Later, Dimcho was ready to go but Elisey wanted to go. Finally, as we were leaving Dimcho decided he didn't want to go home and had a meltdown. Perhaps you see a common thread running through these events.
We have spent part of the rest of this morning building a furniture fort, which Elisey likes doing, but he tended to just shove furniture together, without thought of access. So today I showed him how to line up chairs in a row so there was a little space inbetween. Dimcho loved hiding there, but Elisey seemed more interested in accreting furniture to the fort.
After that we had a nice time when Elisey drew with Donna and I played blocks with Dimcho. If we had more time during the day like that, we would be less stressed.
I have a little more time to write the blog because our in-home helper is here, playing blocks with the boys.
I have
Dimcho continues to ramp up his meltdowns, making demands he knows will not be met and having a screaming fit, throwing things, hitting people, and so on. He's smaller so it's easier to take, and it's interesting to see his anger issues emerge, when he was so placid and cheerful in the beginning.
It rained this morning, but stopped enough that we could go to the playground and ride scooters. There was some friction when Elisey fell in a small puddle and wanted to go home (the boys have this weird aversion, even phobia, to getting this clothes wet, certainly something drilled into them at the orphanage) but Dimcho wanted to stay. Later, Dimcho was ready to go but Elisey wanted to go. Finally, as we were leaving Dimcho decided he didn't want to go home and had a meltdown. Perhaps you see a common thread running through these events.
We have spent part of the rest of this morning building a furniture fort, which Elisey likes doing, but he tended to just shove furniture together, without thought of access. So today I showed him how to line up chairs in a row so there was a little space inbetween. Dimcho loved hiding there, but Elisey seemed more interested in accreting furniture to the fort.
After that we had a nice time when Elisey drew with Donna and I played blocks with Dimcho. If we had more time during the day like that, we would be less stressed.
I have a little more time to write the blog because our in-home helper is here, playing blocks with the boys.
I have
Tuesday, December 25, 2012
Scooter Christmas
A couple of quick pictures of the boys' Christmas morning with scooters. They loved them, but only Elisey really could ride one, as expected.
Monday, December 24, 2012
Merry Christmas
A month after returning home, we are finally starting to relax a bit. In part this is because of our (latest) "new" attitude, remembering the boys' emotional skill set, has helped us be more relaxed, which in turn allows the boys to be more relaxed. Also, after a month the boys are more used to us and their new home and its rules, which are very different from where they grew up. Finally, we have hired an in-home "helper" to watch the boys for a few hours in the afternoon, so we don't have to be on high alert 14 hours a day. It's not quite normal, but we can begin to imagine "normal," whatever that will be, is just over the horizon....
We will try to call close family on Christmas Day, although with the boys' need for attention that may get set aside. We are planning a nice dinner of ham with mashed potatoes and (storebought) apple pie, simple but easy to fix. Don't tell the boys, but they are both getting scooters. Elisey has seen scooters and will be thrilled. He can ride a bike well, so a scooter will be no problem; we're waiting a bike until we know he will follow rules better. Dimcho might have some trouble with a scooter, as even blowing bubbles frustrates him, but when possible we give equal parity toys, as the boys are deep into sibling rivalry. (This has its plus side: whenever one is rebellious, the other is eager to side with Mama and Tatko. If Elisey claims to not understand a word, we can rely on Dimcho to say he understands it perfectly well; if Dimcho doesn't like a food, Elisey will reliably call it delicious.)
We'll try to post pictures in a couple of days. The boys seem to recognize pictures of Santa Claus, calling him some variant of "Nicholas," but I doubt Christmas was a big event for them. An Eastern Orthodox country such as Bulgaria emphasizes (theologically correctly) Easter over Christmas, and they were in a secular, state-run institution. I'm sure by next year they will be fully immersed in the full capitalistic merchandising of Christmas, but enough of my soapbox. They already enjoy driving around the neighborhood looking at pretty lights, and probably think America always looks this way.
We wish every one a Merry Christmas!
We will try to call close family on Christmas Day, although with the boys' need for attention that may get set aside. We are planning a nice dinner of ham with mashed potatoes and (storebought) apple pie, simple but easy to fix. Don't tell the boys, but they are both getting scooters. Elisey has seen scooters and will be thrilled. He can ride a bike well, so a scooter will be no problem; we're waiting a bike until we know he will follow rules better. Dimcho might have some trouble with a scooter, as even blowing bubbles frustrates him, but when possible we give equal parity toys, as the boys are deep into sibling rivalry. (This has its plus side: whenever one is rebellious, the other is eager to side with Mama and Tatko. If Elisey claims to not understand a word, we can rely on Dimcho to say he understands it perfectly well; if Dimcho doesn't like a food, Elisey will reliably call it delicious.)
We'll try to post pictures in a couple of days. The boys seem to recognize pictures of Santa Claus, calling him some variant of "Nicholas," but I doubt Christmas was a big event for them. An Eastern Orthodox country such as Bulgaria emphasizes (theologically correctly) Easter over Christmas, and they were in a secular, state-run institution. I'm sure by next year they will be fully immersed in the full capitalistic merchandising of Christmas, but enough of my soapbox. They already enjoy driving around the neighborhood looking at pretty lights, and probably think America always looks this way.
We wish every one a Merry Christmas!
Five weeks with the boys, four weeks home
The last two days have been calmer. There weren't any major meltdowns, threats, or screaming fits. Also, Elisey has been pretty calm too. :)
Susan effectively linked for us the idea of "the boys have the emotional skills of toddlers" to "relax and don't expect too much," things we had been told, repeatedly, but she also modeled for us how to carry it out in practice. Donna and I were still tense, expecting things to go bad, and Elisey was grumpy in the afternoon, but because we continually reminded ourselves of his emotional skill levels, we didn't let ourselves escalate and so he didn't escalate. When he was selfish or rude, we simply saw the toddler in him.
Dimcho actually had bigger meltdowns, including not eating much of his dinner a couple of nights ago (to be fair, I made a more exotic stew and it (a) may have tasted weird and (b) it had sweet potatoes in it, which look like cooked carrots, and Dimcho refuses to eat cooked carrots--although he likes raw carrots). We were warned, and in fact had already noticed this, that when Elisey is calmer, Dimcho picks up the slack. Because he is younger, and smaller, his meltdowns stress us less which in turn stress the household less, even though he also screams and throws down toys.
Lately Elisey also spent over 45 minutes at the park throwing his toy basketball into a full-sized hoop. If this turns out to be exercise he likes consistently, then great. He even is doing more with the ball in the backyard, throwing it back and forth and so on. Our being calmer seems to be helping him to be calmer and to focus better.
We do not expect smooth sailing from here on out, but if we can reduce everyone anxiety level a few notches, that will make life better for all. Even if we do, there will still be meltdowns from time to time. Everyone who adopts reports this. (On the plane back we met a woman who had adopted two boys before and now was adopting a nine-year old girl, who seemed very quiet and shy. She recently sent us an e-mail, stating that things were going normally, and the screaming, biting, spitting, and so were waning...sounds just like us!) Our goal now is reducing their frequency and intensity.
Although both boys are still impatient like 2-year olds, Elisey is now making progress. He is learning how to swing by himself, and has started to master how to blow bubbles effectively. Dimcho is still too impatient, blowing too hard and then having a fit because he can't blow bubbles, which gives you an idea of what we are up against.
We wish you a Merry Christmas tomorrow!
Susan effectively linked for us the idea of "the boys have the emotional skills of toddlers" to "relax and don't expect too much," things we had been told, repeatedly, but she also modeled for us how to carry it out in practice. Donna and I were still tense, expecting things to go bad, and Elisey was grumpy in the afternoon, but because we continually reminded ourselves of his emotional skill levels, we didn't let ourselves escalate and so he didn't escalate. When he was selfish or rude, we simply saw the toddler in him.
Dimcho actually had bigger meltdowns, including not eating much of his dinner a couple of nights ago (to be fair, I made a more exotic stew and it (a) may have tasted weird and (b) it had sweet potatoes in it, which look like cooked carrots, and Dimcho refuses to eat cooked carrots--although he likes raw carrots). We were warned, and in fact had already noticed this, that when Elisey is calmer, Dimcho picks up the slack. Because he is younger, and smaller, his meltdowns stress us less which in turn stress the household less, even though he also screams and throws down toys.
Lately Elisey also spent over 45 minutes at the park throwing his toy basketball into a full-sized hoop. If this turns out to be exercise he likes consistently, then great. He even is doing more with the ball in the backyard, throwing it back and forth and so on. Our being calmer seems to be helping him to be calmer and to focus better.
We do not expect smooth sailing from here on out, but if we can reduce everyone anxiety level a few notches, that will make life better for all. Even if we do, there will still be meltdowns from time to time. Everyone who adopts reports this. (On the plane back we met a woman who had adopted two boys before and now was adopting a nine-year old girl, who seemed very quiet and shy. She recently sent us an e-mail, stating that things were going normally, and the screaming, biting, spitting, and so were waning...sounds just like us!) Our goal now is reducing their frequency and intensity.
Although both boys are still impatient like 2-year olds, Elisey is now making progress. He is learning how to swing by himself, and has started to master how to blow bubbles effectively. Dimcho is still too impatient, blowing too hard and then having a fit because he can't blow bubbles, which gives you an idea of what we are up against.
We wish you a Merry Christmas tomorrow!
Sunday, December 23, 2012
Some Bulgarian vocabulary for your education
As I've said, Donna and I have a working Bulgarian vocabulary of about 100-150 words, which allows a fair amount of communication with the boys. You won't need it, but here are some words in Bulgarian it's useful to know.
"Iskam" -- I want, probably the top word we hear from the boys.
"Hubaf" -- nice, good, a term of approval, a word we hear a lot from the boys. Or they point at something and ask us if it is "hubaf."
"Ne pipai," -- don't touch, probably the top phrase the boys here from us (in fact Dimcho often imitates us by saying, "Ne, ne, ne."
"Tiho" -- be quiet, probably the next most common work they hear from us.
"Opasno" -- dangerous, a work we often use.
Finally, "glutche," which means "keys" but which the boys use to indicate any toy they pretend are keys: a set of measuring spoons, some tangled, broken ear buds, etc.. As with so many things, they are imitating us, and because we have locked many rooms in the house they see us continually using keys.
We of course know the Bulgarian words for pee and poop and many other things, but hopefully you won't need to know them!
"Iskam" -- I want, probably the top word we hear from the boys.
"Hubaf" -- nice, good, a term of approval, a word we hear a lot from the boys. Or they point at something and ask us if it is "hubaf."
"Ne pipai," -- don't touch, probably the top phrase the boys here from us (in fact Dimcho often imitates us by saying, "Ne, ne, ne."
"Tiho" -- be quiet, probably the next most common work they hear from us.
"Opasno" -- dangerous, a work we often use.
Finally, "glutche," which means "keys" but which the boys use to indicate any toy they pretend are keys: a set of measuring spoons, some tangled, broken ear buds, etc.. As with so many things, they are imitating us, and because we have locked many rooms in the house they see us continually using keys.
We of course know the Bulgarian words for pee and poop and many other things, but hopefully you won't need to know them!
Saturday, December 22, 2012
Basketball dreams and dustpans
Yesterday we had a visit from an adoption expert, Susan, who gives many classes including some we took as part of our training. She emphasized for us once again that the boys have an emotional age and emotional sophistication of toddlers and that we should treat them as such, that we should be patient with tirades as we would with toddlers. While we "knew" this, it helped to have her demonstrate for us several concrete ways to deal with boys who are physically and cognitively older but emotionally young.
This morning I took Elisey to the playground with his toy, child-sized basketball. He enthusiastically went to the full-sized hoops and spent a long time shooting hoops, making a surprising number. He also seemed to enjoy it for itself and not just because an adult (me) was watching. This is tremendous progress for him. When we first met Elisey he was almost at a loss what to do with any ball and quickly lost interest. To spend half an hour or more shooting hoops was amazing. It was spurred by his watching guys play pick-up basketball games at playgrounds and then some practice with his child-sized hoop at home.
And this is what life is like with them--simply teaching them how to play.
Following a discussion with our social worker, Nicole, we bought the boys, of all things, their own dustpans and handbrooms. They love them and have already spent a lot of time sweeping things up. This is probably because they were made to do chores at the orphange and/or watched the staff clean up. They even asked if they had to give the dustpans back to the orphanage and were thrilled that we wrote their initials on the dustpans to show it was theres. Elisey can't really read but he knows his letters and recognizes (in Bulgarian at least, and is learning in English) the letter E for Elisey, D for Dimcho, M for Mama, and so on. From our discussions with Susan, we hope we can use these as a gateway to using other toys. For example, sweeping up blocks might lead to playing with blocks, and so on.
This morning I took Elisey to the playground with his toy, child-sized basketball. He enthusiastically went to the full-sized hoops and spent a long time shooting hoops, making a surprising number. He also seemed to enjoy it for itself and not just because an adult (me) was watching. This is tremendous progress for him. When we first met Elisey he was almost at a loss what to do with any ball and quickly lost interest. To spend half an hour or more shooting hoops was amazing. It was spurred by his watching guys play pick-up basketball games at playgrounds and then some practice with his child-sized hoop at home.
And this is what life is like with them--simply teaching them how to play.
Following a discussion with our social worker, Nicole, we bought the boys, of all things, their own dustpans and handbrooms. They love them and have already spent a lot of time sweeping things up. This is probably because they were made to do chores at the orphange and/or watched the staff clean up. They even asked if they had to give the dustpans back to the orphanage and were thrilled that we wrote their initials on the dustpans to show it was theres. Elisey can't really read but he knows his letters and recognizes (in Bulgarian at least, and is learning in English) the letter E for Elisey, D for Dimcho, M for Mama, and so on. From our discussions with Susan, we hope we can use these as a gateway to using other toys. For example, sweeping up blocks might lead to playing with blocks, and so on.
Friday, December 21, 2012
Family portrait
When out social worker, Nicole, came over on Thursday, we had her take a picture of us as a family. It was her suggestion, a good one, to print out copies of this and put them throughout the house, to show the boys how we are one family. I haven't had time yet to do that yet, however, as Elisey has had several continuous meltdowns.
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Sibling rivalary
One of the things that has been difficult, and which seems to be getting worse, not better, is an increasing sibling rivalry between the boys. One of the reasons we chose to adopt Elisey and Dimcho is the bond between them, which we hoped would help them adjust and give them a love beyond that which Donna and I could offer. And we still hope that.
And we still see playfulness, compassion, and affection between the boys. Occasionally.
I'm afraid I'm going to return to complaining about Elisey. Some of his behaviors have, in the grand scheme of things, improved. He doesn't get into things as much as before, doesn't try to unplug everything constantly, only occasionally. When he tries to hit us, it often isn't nearly as hard as it was, almost a soft, symbolic swat. But his rivalry of Dimcho is undiminished or even increased, probably as Dimcho turns to us for comfort, affectionate, and protection. Not only does Elisey want the same toy that Dimcho is currently playing with, which is pretty normal, he actively tries to stop Dimcho from having fun or even the same privileges. If Dimcho wants to watch TV, Elisey announces he doesn't want to, and tries to interrupt watching TV. Suggestions that Elisey do something else falls on deaf ears. Dimcho has for several days decided not to go to the park, tired of sharing the car with his brother, and now Elisey actively says that Dimcho doesn't want to go to the park and panics if he thinks Dimcho will come along. We did all go to the park yesterday--in separate cars, Elisey in mine, Dimcho in Donna's, an unsustainable approach.
Because the boys like baths, we tried adding a midday bath, hoping that might calm the afternoon when acting out typically ramps up. It started off well, and I even gave the boys some toys to play in the bath. Again, Elisey demanded whatever toy Dimcho had. Dimcho was actually playing with the toys, after I showed him how, but Elisey just floated in the water, clutching the toys in his hand. Later, Elisey tried to squeeze Dimcho out of the tub. When I told him to share, ("delya" in Bulgarian) he claimed not to understand the word, although Dimcho said he understood the word so it wasn't my mispronunciation.
I think Elisey literally does not understand "share." In the evening, tired of this, we decided to give the boys separate baths. Elisey was happy to have a bath without his brother, but could not understand why his brother got a bath without him, and had a severe meltdown.
In the abstract, this is probably behavior learned from the orphanage, a kind of survival mechanism. It does make our task very difficult, though. In these early days of bonding, we are encouraged to find "find ways to say yes" to the boys, so they feel safe and secure, but that's difficult when the one thing one boy wants is to say "no" to the other.
At other times Elisey can share, or at least appear to share, but now I wonder how much of that was an attempt to ingratiate himself with an adult.
I've written how the boys, Elisey in particular, have a difficult time playing with toys. In some ways Dimcho picks it up faster, as I saw in the bath. I've noticed recently that to a large extent "play" for Elisey is almost exclusively a vehicle to get attention from adults; the only time I've noticed him "playing" by himself is pretending to talk on the telephone to an adult. All children love to have their parents watch them, but for example while Elisey got excited at the park watching some guys play basketball, at home he seems interested in the toy basketball hoop as a vehicle to get us to watch him. I try to keep in mind this is part of the bonding process. As another example, when we read Dr. Seuss books at night, Elisey asks who are the characters, and we pretend that one is me, another is him, another Donna, and so on. But now that has become his sole focus--he has little patience for reading to him, and just turns the pages to have the characters named. I try to have compassion, to remember that this is a child who feels so erased he constantly needs reassurance he exists (when we rewatch our DVD about our trip to Bulgaria, he constantly points to himself and asks who that is). That need in itself is understandable, but its hard to take when his own compassion for his brother has dwindled.
Again, we are consulting with a whole raft of experts who are helping us through these difficult times. There are no easy answers, however.
And we still see playfulness, compassion, and affection between the boys. Occasionally.
I'm afraid I'm going to return to complaining about Elisey. Some of his behaviors have, in the grand scheme of things, improved. He doesn't get into things as much as before, doesn't try to unplug everything constantly, only occasionally. When he tries to hit us, it often isn't nearly as hard as it was, almost a soft, symbolic swat. But his rivalry of Dimcho is undiminished or even increased, probably as Dimcho turns to us for comfort, affectionate, and protection. Not only does Elisey want the same toy that Dimcho is currently playing with, which is pretty normal, he actively tries to stop Dimcho from having fun or even the same privileges. If Dimcho wants to watch TV, Elisey announces he doesn't want to, and tries to interrupt watching TV. Suggestions that Elisey do something else falls on deaf ears. Dimcho has for several days decided not to go to the park, tired of sharing the car with his brother, and now Elisey actively says that Dimcho doesn't want to go to the park and panics if he thinks Dimcho will come along. We did all go to the park yesterday--in separate cars, Elisey in mine, Dimcho in Donna's, an unsustainable approach.
Because the boys like baths, we tried adding a midday bath, hoping that might calm the afternoon when acting out typically ramps up. It started off well, and I even gave the boys some toys to play in the bath. Again, Elisey demanded whatever toy Dimcho had. Dimcho was actually playing with the toys, after I showed him how, but Elisey just floated in the water, clutching the toys in his hand. Later, Elisey tried to squeeze Dimcho out of the tub. When I told him to share, ("delya" in Bulgarian) he claimed not to understand the word, although Dimcho said he understood the word so it wasn't my mispronunciation.
I think Elisey literally does not understand "share." In the evening, tired of this, we decided to give the boys separate baths. Elisey was happy to have a bath without his brother, but could not understand why his brother got a bath without him, and had a severe meltdown.
In the abstract, this is probably behavior learned from the orphanage, a kind of survival mechanism. It does make our task very difficult, though. In these early days of bonding, we are encouraged to find "find ways to say yes" to the boys, so they feel safe and secure, but that's difficult when the one thing one boy wants is to say "no" to the other.
At other times Elisey can share, or at least appear to share, but now I wonder how much of that was an attempt to ingratiate himself with an adult.
I've written how the boys, Elisey in particular, have a difficult time playing with toys. In some ways Dimcho picks it up faster, as I saw in the bath. I've noticed recently that to a large extent "play" for Elisey is almost exclusively a vehicle to get attention from adults; the only time I've noticed him "playing" by himself is pretending to talk on the telephone to an adult. All children love to have their parents watch them, but for example while Elisey got excited at the park watching some guys play basketball, at home he seems interested in the toy basketball hoop as a vehicle to get us to watch him. I try to keep in mind this is part of the bonding process. As another example, when we read Dr. Seuss books at night, Elisey asks who are the characters, and we pretend that one is me, another is him, another Donna, and so on. But now that has become his sole focus--he has little patience for reading to him, and just turns the pages to have the characters named. I try to have compassion, to remember that this is a child who feels so erased he constantly needs reassurance he exists (when we rewatch our DVD about our trip to Bulgaria, he constantly points to himself and asks who that is). That need in itself is understandable, but its hard to take when his own compassion for his brother has dwindled.
Again, we are consulting with a whole raft of experts who are helping us through these difficult times. There are no easy answers, however.
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
Dimcho
I tend to write more about Elisey, and mostly negative things, because he has more issues. So I will write about Dimcho today.
Dimcho is overall a pretty happy kid. He smiles and laughs easily. He is quite affectionate, often running to grab and hug you about the knees, or if you are sitting down to jump on you and hug you. If he is watching a video on the TV (something we limit to a couple of hours a day) he will ask you to sit next to him. He doesn't always like to be held in your lap, though, and will squirm to get off.
He likes to play cooking and making tea. He uses the outdoor smoker as a toy over/storage unit, and one of his favorite toys is the toy tea set we bought. Even at the playground he will pretend to make coffee and bring it to one of us.
Dimcho also likes to pretend to drive a car, though his favorite part seems to be pretending to close the door and making a sound like a door slamming shut. When he is "driving" on the couch he will sometimes invite one of us to sit next to him, or make us move if we are in his "driver's" seat.
Dimcho is capable of playing by himself quietly for long periods of time. We worry this means we will overlook him, because he does not constantly ask for attention. Lately however he has been skipping going to the playground (more about this in another post) so he gets a couple of hours a day of one-on-one time with Donna.
Dimcho is no angel. He loves to lecture people, especially his brother but also his parents, wagging his finger. Like most kids from institutions, he is emotionally delayed, and often acts more like a 3-year old than a five year, albeit a sweet-natured 3-year old. He has meltdowns, especially when he is frustrated, and his music tablet has a web of crack across it from his throwing down in frustration. (We are getting new, simpler music players for them, now that we know better what they like and what they can handle.) He is harder to get to "redo" than his brother, for example, if he throws something down in anger it is difficult to get him to pick it up and put it back nicely (which Elisey will do more willingly). When he is in a bad mood, however, he can be jollied out of it, or at least softened, by laughter and simple tickling.
He should be taking a short nap in the afternoon, but right now we can't get him to do that. He starts to fall asleep shortly before dinner, but then at bedtime he gets a burst of energy, even if we kept him awake, and insists he doesn't want to sleep. Usually after about 30-45 minutes however we get him to sleep, and he sleeps through the night with only brief wakings to pee.
Bulgarian is rich with diminuatives and affectionate nicknames, and following his brother's lead we often call Dimcho "Dimmi" or "Dimka."
Dimcho is overall a pretty happy kid. He smiles and laughs easily. He is quite affectionate, often running to grab and hug you about the knees, or if you are sitting down to jump on you and hug you. If he is watching a video on the TV (something we limit to a couple of hours a day) he will ask you to sit next to him. He doesn't always like to be held in your lap, though, and will squirm to get off.
He likes to play cooking and making tea. He uses the outdoor smoker as a toy over/storage unit, and one of his favorite toys is the toy tea set we bought. Even at the playground he will pretend to make coffee and bring it to one of us.
Dimcho also likes to pretend to drive a car, though his favorite part seems to be pretending to close the door and making a sound like a door slamming shut. When he is "driving" on the couch he will sometimes invite one of us to sit next to him, or make us move if we are in his "driver's" seat.
Dimcho is capable of playing by himself quietly for long periods of time. We worry this means we will overlook him, because he does not constantly ask for attention. Lately however he has been skipping going to the playground (more about this in another post) so he gets a couple of hours a day of one-on-one time with Donna.
Dimcho is no angel. He loves to lecture people, especially his brother but also his parents, wagging his finger. Like most kids from institutions, he is emotionally delayed, and often acts more like a 3-year old than a five year, albeit a sweet-natured 3-year old. He has meltdowns, especially when he is frustrated, and his music tablet has a web of crack across it from his throwing down in frustration. (We are getting new, simpler music players for them, now that we know better what they like and what they can handle.) He is harder to get to "redo" than his brother, for example, if he throws something down in anger it is difficult to get him to pick it up and put it back nicely (which Elisey will do more willingly). When he is in a bad mood, however, he can be jollied out of it, or at least softened, by laughter and simple tickling.
He should be taking a short nap in the afternoon, but right now we can't get him to do that. He starts to fall asleep shortly before dinner, but then at bedtime he gets a burst of energy, even if we kept him awake, and insists he doesn't want to sleep. Usually after about 30-45 minutes however we get him to sleep, and he sleeps through the night with only brief wakings to pee.
Bulgarian is rich with diminuatives and affectionate nicknames, and following his brother's lead we often call Dimcho "Dimmi" or "Dimka."
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
What we've done right
Yesterday was another hard day. We've arranged the house and the boys' room so it was less stressful, but even so, it was exhausting.
I'm writing this post early before every gets up, because during the day I have very little free time. I can't even write a two-paragraph e-mail without being interrupted literally 5 times. My apologies for not responding to e-mail or to calling.
To help us feel better, I keep in mind the things we have done right. (The list of things we've done wrong would exhaust the internet.)
Some of the things we got the boys were right. The boys love:
-- their stuffed dogs ("kooche" in Bulgarian) we got from Ikea
-- we got matching red caps for the family and Elisey in particular loves his
-- the boys love music and for the most part they love their Android tablets we got for them. They are too complex to handle, however, especially for boys who continually push buttons, so we will soon look for much simpler devices. The basic idea however was great
-- simplifying the house. We began this before we left for Bulgaria, and while there swiftly realized we would have to simplify even further. Every one has recommended this, and it appears we are ahead of the curve on this one thing.
Some things we have learned along the way
-- toys for younger children (friends with similar experiences, as well as books, suggest this too). Age-appropriate toys are too frustrating, so we get Fischer-Price toys for 2-3 year olds. These work much better, and are in part why we are discouraging gifts from friends and family right now.
-- they love airplanes, especially Elisey.
-- they love phones and housekeeping tasks. In part this must be because this is mostly saw at the orphanage: caretakers cleaning, cooking, and yakking on cellphones. Their favorites toys are a toy tea set and toy cell phones designed for 2 year olds. (Elisey also liked to play with the kitchen dustpan and handbroom, until he broke the latter.)
Some things have taken time. They were too agitated at first to sit down to draw, but the last few days we have gotten them to spend some time each day scribbling with crayons. Often Elisey wants me to "help" him draw. This is very calming, except when the boys clash over crayons or paper, so we will try to keep this up. Also I got the boys a mini basketball hoop, which they ignored for weeks, until Elisey watched a pickup game at the park, and now he is more interested in playing with the ball; much better than breaking brooms!
Here are pictures of the boys on their toy cell phones.
I'm writing this post early before every gets up, because during the day I have very little free time. I can't even write a two-paragraph e-mail without being interrupted literally 5 times. My apologies for not responding to e-mail or to calling.
To help us feel better, I keep in mind the things we have done right. (The list of things we've done wrong would exhaust the internet.)
Some of the things we got the boys were right. The boys love:
-- their stuffed dogs ("kooche" in Bulgarian) we got from Ikea
-- we got matching red caps for the family and Elisey in particular loves his
-- the boys love music and for the most part they love their Android tablets we got for them. They are too complex to handle, however, especially for boys who continually push buttons, so we will soon look for much simpler devices. The basic idea however was great
-- simplifying the house. We began this before we left for Bulgaria, and while there swiftly realized we would have to simplify even further. Every one has recommended this, and it appears we are ahead of the curve on this one thing.
Some things we have learned along the way
-- toys for younger children (friends with similar experiences, as well as books, suggest this too). Age-appropriate toys are too frustrating, so we get Fischer-Price toys for 2-3 year olds. These work much better, and are in part why we are discouraging gifts from friends and family right now.
-- they love airplanes, especially Elisey.
-- they love phones and housekeeping tasks. In part this must be because this is mostly saw at the orphanage: caretakers cleaning, cooking, and yakking on cellphones. Their favorites toys are a toy tea set and toy cell phones designed for 2 year olds. (Elisey also liked to play with the kitchen dustpan and handbroom, until he broke the latter.)
Some things have taken time. They were too agitated at first to sit down to draw, but the last few days we have gotten them to spend some time each day scribbling with crayons. Often Elisey wants me to "help" him draw. This is very calming, except when the boys clash over crayons or paper, so we will try to keep this up. Also I got the boys a mini basketball hoop, which they ignored for weeks, until Elisey watched a pickup game at the park, and now he is more interested in playing with the ball; much better than breaking brooms!
Here are pictures of the boys on their toy cell phones.
Monday, December 17, 2012
Rainy days
Rain has been hitting San Diego, fairly mild compared to the rest of the country. And compared to Bulgaria, which gets much colder. Still, it's hard on two boys with lots of energy they need to expend to stay inside.
We'll try to find things to occupy ourselves. Elisey enjoys being forts from furniture and blankets, which is great, except when it inevitably turns into an exercise in control. He also likes to draw and color and often requests me to help him draw something, only its not easy with my very limited pidgin Bulgarian. With the aid of his hints and a couple of dictionaries (not easy since some sounds he mispronounces) I found out that "oblak" is "cloud" and "durzho" is "tree" and "elen" is "deer."
Dimcho likes to play at serving tea and coffee and we bought the boys a little tea set. He sometimes sits down with blocks, or likes to watch movies on his tablet. Like his brother, he also like to pretend to talk on a cell phone--they now have little play phones although in a pinch they pretend a block is a phone.
Otherwise I sometimes play "bear" ("mechka" in Bulgarian) chasing the boys, which elicits much screaming laughter. Last night we played a CD of Bulgarian children's songs. This one was chosen by Dimcho, so naturally Elisey, even though he likes this CD, sulked. Donna and I responded by dancing to the music in quite a silly fashion, and Elisey laughed and smiled despite himself in between sulks.
We'll try to find things to occupy ourselves. Elisey enjoys being forts from furniture and blankets, which is great, except when it inevitably turns into an exercise in control. He also likes to draw and color and often requests me to help him draw something, only its not easy with my very limited pidgin Bulgarian. With the aid of his hints and a couple of dictionaries (not easy since some sounds he mispronounces) I found out that "oblak" is "cloud" and "durzho" is "tree" and "elen" is "deer."
Dimcho likes to play at serving tea and coffee and we bought the boys a little tea set. He sometimes sits down with blocks, or likes to watch movies on his tablet. Like his brother, he also like to pretend to talk on a cell phone--they now have little play phones although in a pinch they pretend a block is a phone.
Otherwise I sometimes play "bear" ("mechka" in Bulgarian) chasing the boys, which elicits much screaming laughter. Last night we played a CD of Bulgarian children's songs. This one was chosen by Dimcho, so naturally Elisey, even though he likes this CD, sulked. Donna and I responded by dancing to the music in quite a silly fashion, and Elisey laughed and smiled despite himself in between sulks.
Sunday, December 16, 2012
Normalizing violence against the clown
Adopted children almost always experience grief and anger, and often don't have the tools to work out those feelings. This is at the root of much of the acting out we have seen. We have been encouraged to find them a suitable outlet for their anger.
We bought a clown.
A blow-up Bozo punching clown, to be sure, including inflatable gloves.
We've only been mildly successful in directing their anger to the clown. In part Elisey refuses when he knows we want him to hit the clown and not something else.
Our strategy then is to get him used to hitting the clown. Fortunately, Elisey loves photo-ops: he can't resist a chance to have his picture taken.
We hope, we practice they will get used to bashing the clown and not us or some other possession.
Donna comments, Woe to any clown who performs at a future birthday party, who suddenly gets attacked by this two boys.
We bought a clown.
A blow-up Bozo punching clown, to be sure, including inflatable gloves.
We've only been mildly successful in directing their anger to the clown. In part Elisey refuses when he knows we want him to hit the clown and not something else.
Our strategy then is to get him used to hitting the clown. Fortunately, Elisey loves photo-ops: he can't resist a chance to have his picture taken.
We hope, we practice they will get used to bashing the clown and not us or some other possession.
Donna comments, Woe to any clown who performs at a future birthday party, who suddenly gets attacked by this two boys.
Saturday, December 15, 2012
Three weeks home
Tonight we've been home three weeks. We knew it would be hard, but it's been even harder than we thought.
Things are continuing to be calmer. Emphasis on the relative nature. Still meltdowns and acting out, but with our new "regime" they don't spiral out of control as much. Also, most likely Elisey is getting used to us and is trusting us more and hence testing less. Interestingly, Dimcho is acting out more. His meltdowns, however, are more diffuse and easier to redirect.
Today Elisey and I took a midday walk in Marion Bear park. He sampled the bathroom; almost everywhere he goes he wants to take a pee. We both enjoyed it very much, and it allowed Donna and Dimcho a chance to rest in peace for a bit. We hope to keep the walk as part of our routine.
Things are continuing to be calmer. Emphasis on the relative nature. Still meltdowns and acting out, but with our new "regime" they don't spiral out of control as much. Also, most likely Elisey is getting used to us and is trusting us more and hence testing less. Interestingly, Dimcho is acting out more. His meltdowns, however, are more diffuse and easier to redirect.
Today Elisey and I took a midday walk in Marion Bear park. He sampled the bathroom; almost everywhere he goes he wants to take a pee. We both enjoyed it very much, and it allowed Donna and Dimcho a chance to rest in peace for a bit. We hope to keep the walk as part of our routine.
Raboti
All families develop their personal set of phrases. Our boys already have two.
The first is, sigh, repeating "Out of the kitchen! I'm cooking! Very dangerous!" exactly in English. Though occasionally Elisey will insist that something is not dangerous as part of his rebellion. Dimcho tends to just blunder ahead and we have to scoot him out of the kitchen.
The other is pointing to pictures or videos of TVs and exclaiming "Raboti*! (it works!)" This is because of our week in Sofia, we told them the TV didn't work ("ne raboti" in Bulgarian) and the computer didn't work (true, thanks to them). This was to minimize their messing with it. At home we also told them various electronic devices didn't work. So the boys, especially Elisey, routinely point out ads for TVs in the newspaper and tells us "Raboti!"
The boys also have a copy of a short video we made about Bulgaria, which they love to watch because it helps them remember their home at the orphanage. At one point the camera pans past a TV in the play room and Elisey always exclaims "Raboti!", reminding us that as bad as the orphanage was, it had working TV.
*For you etymologists, "rabot" is the general Slavic root for "work." This word passed into English through a 1920 Polish play by Karel Capek, "R.U.R." for "Rossum's Universal Robots," where mechanical men were slaves, which became the English word "Robot."
The first is, sigh, repeating "Out of the kitchen! I'm cooking! Very dangerous!" exactly in English. Though occasionally Elisey will insist that something is not dangerous as part of his rebellion. Dimcho tends to just blunder ahead and we have to scoot him out of the kitchen.
The other is pointing to pictures or videos of TVs and exclaiming "Raboti*! (it works!)" This is because of our week in Sofia, we told them the TV didn't work ("ne raboti" in Bulgarian) and the computer didn't work (true, thanks to them). This was to minimize their messing with it. At home we also told them various electronic devices didn't work. So the boys, especially Elisey, routinely point out ads for TVs in the newspaper and tells us "Raboti!"
The boys also have a copy of a short video we made about Bulgaria, which they love to watch because it helps them remember their home at the orphanage. At one point the camera pans past a TV in the play room and Elisey always exclaims "Raboti!", reminding us that as bad as the orphanage was, it had working TV.
*For you etymologists, "rabot" is the general Slavic root for "work." This word passed into English through a 1920 Polish play by Karel Capek, "R.U.R." for "Rossum's Universal Robots," where mechanical men were slaves, which became the English word "Robot."
Friday, December 14, 2012
A few pictures, finally
Things are calm enough today I can try to post a couple of pictures, although they are 3 to 4 weeks old.
These are from our rented apartment in Sofia and the trip home.
It's been raining, which makes it hard to go outside and play, but inside we played "bear" chasing and pretending to eat the boys. Much screaming and laughter. A good day.
Another thing we did which we think will help is we bought storage boxes. Elisey feels bad about not having much to call his own, which of course they did not have at the orphanage, so we bought storage file boxes and labeled them with large E and D and put selected toys in them. Having identified possessions may help them feel better. We can't put in too many though or else they melt down.
Gotta go.
These are from our rented apartment in Sofia and the trip home.
It's been raining, which makes it hard to go outside and play, but inside we played "bear" chasing and pretending to eat the boys. Much screaming and laughter. A good day.
Another thing we did which we think will help is we bought storage boxes. Elisey feels bad about not having much to call his own, which of course they did not have at the orphanage, so we bought storage file boxes and labeled them with large E and D and put selected toys in them. Having identified possessions may help them feel better. We can't put in too many though or else they melt down.
Gotta go.
Imaginary friends
Things are a little calmer now, although there will be storms to come. Part of it is figuring how when and how to intervene with behaviors. Often children act out to get attention, even negative attention, so it can be better to ignore it, and the behavior goes away. In our case, however, the behavior just got worse, because it is more about control than attention (though controlling attention is part of the picture). So now we are intervening more swiftly, but on a smaller scale, and we have also arranged things so there are fewer distractions. It's still early but it seems better.
We arranged for Rosie, our translator in Bulgaria, to call and talk to the boys. They were very excited to talk to here. Often the boys, especially Elisey, pretends to call Rosie and others he knew in Bulgaria, either to report on Mama's cooking (usually positive reports) or to complain.
They didn't really know Rosie, but she is a pretty young woman who brought people to them so naturally they were enthralled by her. Unfortunately this morning Elisey's conversation with her was as imaginary as the ones on the block of wood he pretends is a cell phone. He wanted to tell her about his life here, but when she tried to tell him something, for example that when we warn something is dangerous we are trying to keep him safe, it was stony silence.
Afterwards they cried and cried for Rosie, imagining her to the gateway to the good life. (Although Elisey, when asked, wants to stay in his new home. Dimcho was confused and preferred Rosie in that moment.) They pointed to airplanes in the sky and imagined she was in them. They spotted her on the street. In fact this is part of the grieving process; she represents for them Bulgaria and what they lost, and allowing them to grieve in this way is important.
. . . . . . . . .
A final thought: parenting is hard enough, but parenting with a language barrier is like building a model ship with boxing gloves.
And now the piping voices of my children call to me, so I must go.
We arranged for Rosie, our translator in Bulgaria, to call and talk to the boys. They were very excited to talk to here. Often the boys, especially Elisey, pretends to call Rosie and others he knew in Bulgaria, either to report on Mama's cooking (usually positive reports) or to complain.
They didn't really know Rosie, but she is a pretty young woman who brought people to them so naturally they were enthralled by her. Unfortunately this morning Elisey's conversation with her was as imaginary as the ones on the block of wood he pretends is a cell phone. He wanted to tell her about his life here, but when she tried to tell him something, for example that when we warn something is dangerous we are trying to keep him safe, it was stony silence.
Afterwards they cried and cried for Rosie, imagining her to the gateway to the good life. (Although Elisey, when asked, wants to stay in his new home. Dimcho was confused and preferred Rosie in that moment.) They pointed to airplanes in the sky and imagined she was in them. They spotted her on the street. In fact this is part of the grieving process; she represents for them Bulgaria and what they lost, and allowing them to grieve in this way is important.
. . . . . . . . .
A final thought: parenting is hard enough, but parenting with a language barrier is like building a model ship with boxing gloves.
And now the piping voices of my children call to me, so I must go.
Thursday, December 13, 2012
More weird things about our boys
Yesterday was calmer, though with its ups and downs. Our social worker from Jewish Family Services, Nicole, came by. She's always very helpful to bounce ideas off. Today there is heavy rain, and the boys were sad we could not go to the park this morning. Being surprisingly fastidious, however, they accepted that one could not go out in the rain to play.
One of Elisey's highlights of the day is taking a bath. He loves the bath more than any child I know. Probably he finds it very soothing. He even likes to bend forward and have me gently pour water over his head with a cup. While I would not have predicted this, these a good moments.
Conversely, both of them when they are upset, tend to drop their trousers. In particular Dimcho, when he doesn't get his waym, will simply push down his pants and stand there in his underbants, sucking a finger (not his thumb) and looking both defiant and sad.
Another good thing is that Elisey enjoys very much climbing into my lap in the evening and we read a book, Dr. Seuss or Go, Dog! Go. He's almost memorized much of "One Fish, Two Fish," even though he doesn't understand the English, but he can count along in English. I would not have predicted that about him, but I am very glad about it.
Oops, a cry somewhere in the house. Gotta go.
One of Elisey's highlights of the day is taking a bath. He loves the bath more than any child I know. Probably he finds it very soothing. He even likes to bend forward and have me gently pour water over his head with a cup. While I would not have predicted this, these a good moments.
Conversely, both of them when they are upset, tend to drop their trousers. In particular Dimcho, when he doesn't get his waym, will simply push down his pants and stand there in his underbants, sucking a finger (not his thumb) and looking both defiant and sad.
Another good thing is that Elisey enjoys very much climbing into my lap in the evening and we read a book, Dr. Seuss or Go, Dog! Go. He's almost memorized much of "One Fish, Two Fish," even though he doesn't understand the English, but he can count along in English. I would not have predicted that about him, but I am very glad about it.
Oops, a cry somewhere in the house. Gotta go.
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Another rough day
It's bad enough that even on a private blog like this I don't wish to air my children's "dirty laundry." We are seeking help to stabilize the situation. Until this I probably won't post much.
Monday, December 10, 2012
Sibling rivalry
Although Elisey was Dimcho's protector and comforter in the orphanage, we think, as Dimcho becomes attached to us, he is no longer easily acquiescing to Elisey's dominance. He's also picking up some of Elisey's bad habits, such as snatching things and talking back, but that's not abnormal for a five year old. I think. He does have meltdowns too, but being 2/3 the weight of Elisey he's easier to control.
The problem is Elisey, though he does truly care for his brother, also demands being first. Literally. He'll have a meltdown if Dimcho is walking ahead and we don't let Elisey jet ahead.
This led last night to one of our worse episodes, which includes biting, smashing a trayful of dishes, and urine-based terrorism. I'm being deliberately circumspect because even though this blog is useful to vent, I also am mindful about making a spectacle of my children. It was a very hard evening, on everyone. There was much screaming and gnashing of teeth--and the boys were upset too.
Every morning I wake up promising myself I'll be calm and collected. Every evening I go to bed regretting when I was not the cool, caring parent I want to be.
Today has actually been better, even though on numerous occasions we could see a meltdown approaching, and tried to figure a way out. Not always easy. I did avert one crisis by the judicious application of bubbles, which was a sufficient distraction. We'll see how this evening goes.
The problem is Elisey, though he does truly care for his brother, also demands being first. Literally. He'll have a meltdown if Dimcho is walking ahead and we don't let Elisey jet ahead.
This led last night to one of our worse episodes, which includes biting, smashing a trayful of dishes, and urine-based terrorism. I'm being deliberately circumspect because even though this blog is useful to vent, I also am mindful about making a spectacle of my children. It was a very hard evening, on everyone. There was much screaming and gnashing of teeth--and the boys were upset too.
Every morning I wake up promising myself I'll be calm and collected. Every evening I go to bed regretting when I was not the cool, caring parent I want to be.
Today has actually been better, even though on numerous occasions we could see a meltdown approaching, and tried to figure a way out. Not always easy. I did avert one crisis by the judicious application of bubbles, which was a sufficient distraction. We'll see how this evening goes.
Sunday, December 9, 2012
Two weeks home,...
...though it feels longer. More of the same. The pattern seems to be we can have a pleasant morning, until around 11 am, and then Elisey starts looking for things to get upset about. It's not getting hungry; we have a snack around 10, usually peanut butter on toast with some fruit.
It will be somewhat easier when the boys acquire English. They do echo us, quite a bit, and it's clear they understand some words and phrases. Sometimes Dimcho even babbles in what must be what English sounds like to him (it's not Bulgarian) which is funny and cute.
Of course, what we need them to master is what we haven't mastered in Bulgarian: tenses and conditionals. If you do this, then that will happen. You are not getting X now because you did Y this morning.
It will be somewhat easier when the boys acquire English. They do echo us, quite a bit, and it's clear they understand some words and phrases. Sometimes Dimcho even babbles in what must be what English sounds like to him (it's not Bulgarian) which is funny and cute.
Of course, what we need them to master is what we haven't mastered in Bulgarian: tenses and conditionals. If you do this, then that will happen. You are not getting X now because you did Y this morning.
Saturday, December 8, 2012
Weird things our boys do
Yesterday was (guess) another trying day. In the morning Elisey was acting out so much and Donna and I were so upset that Dimcho got upset too and couldn't finish his breakfast. I ended up taking Elisey and Dimcho to the park on separate trips. The boys seemed to like that better.
It is interesting to see Dimcho start to differentiate himself from Elisey. For so long Elisey was both his protector and quasi-parent, that Dimcho subsumed all his desires to Elisey. Now, feeling safe with us, Dimcho no longer likes it that Elisey gets to pick what music we listen to, what movie we watch, that Elisey gets to go ahead of Dimcho, and so on. (Keep in mind that Elisey is not 100% selfish; he does share food with Dimcho, comforts Dimcho when he is truly sad or upset, and so on. But Elisey is a normal seven-year-old and has normal selfishness for that age. We do find it positive that Elisey can exhibit empathy and altruism.)
One thing Dimcho does is to lecture Elisey, wagging his finger at Elisey. He lectures us, too, when he feels we have wronged him. I'm not one of those fathers who dreams of his son following in his footsteps, but I could see Dimcho at the lectern, sternly instructing his audience.
Of course all kids do weird things. I was a strange little kid and my parents could surely fill your ear with the odd things I did and said. Like many kids, both Dimcho and Elisey pretend to talk on cell phones. Often its to pretend to call back to one of their caregivers, reporting on the food and conditions here.
Elisey however also imitates the vapid laugh that people sometimes give when talking on their cell phone (though I'm sure none of you do that), certainly something he picked up from his caregivers in Bulgaria. Yesterday, when driving home from the park with just the two of us, he pretended to be talking to Donna. "Da (yes), Mama, ha ha ha, da," he said. He hasn't heard Donna talk on the cell phone enough to realize she doesn't do that.
What I find strangest however is Elisey sometimes winks at me. Most often it's at dinnertime. He'll turn and give me a wink, a particularly cheesy, vaudevillian wink. He doesn't wink at Donna like this. Sigh. I guess I will spend thousands of dollars on a therapist finding out what's behind that wink. I do not look forward to it. (Our pediatrician has already recommended a therapist who is experienced in adoption issues, including helping children work through their understandable grief.)
Before signing off I will say this morning was much calmer. Elisey is afraid of the dark, probably having never slept in a room without a light, but the lamp in their room was too bright, so we swapped it out for a nightlight. It's only been one night but they seemed to sleep much better as well as later--sleeping until 7 rather than 5. Step by step we figure out these things.
It is interesting to see Dimcho start to differentiate himself from Elisey. For so long Elisey was both his protector and quasi-parent, that Dimcho subsumed all his desires to Elisey. Now, feeling safe with us, Dimcho no longer likes it that Elisey gets to pick what music we listen to, what movie we watch, that Elisey gets to go ahead of Dimcho, and so on. (Keep in mind that Elisey is not 100% selfish; he does share food with Dimcho, comforts Dimcho when he is truly sad or upset, and so on. But Elisey is a normal seven-year-old and has normal selfishness for that age. We do find it positive that Elisey can exhibit empathy and altruism.)
One thing Dimcho does is to lecture Elisey, wagging his finger at Elisey. He lectures us, too, when he feels we have wronged him. I'm not one of those fathers who dreams of his son following in his footsteps, but I could see Dimcho at the lectern, sternly instructing his audience.
Of course all kids do weird things. I was a strange little kid and my parents could surely fill your ear with the odd things I did and said. Like many kids, both Dimcho and Elisey pretend to talk on cell phones. Often its to pretend to call back to one of their caregivers, reporting on the food and conditions here.
Elisey however also imitates the vapid laugh that people sometimes give when talking on their cell phone (though I'm sure none of you do that), certainly something he picked up from his caregivers in Bulgaria. Yesterday, when driving home from the park with just the two of us, he pretended to be talking to Donna. "Da (yes), Mama, ha ha ha, da," he said. He hasn't heard Donna talk on the cell phone enough to realize she doesn't do that.
What I find strangest however is Elisey sometimes winks at me. Most often it's at dinnertime. He'll turn and give me a wink, a particularly cheesy, vaudevillian wink. He doesn't wink at Donna like this. Sigh. I guess I will spend thousands of dollars on a therapist finding out what's behind that wink. I do not look forward to it. (Our pediatrician has already recommended a therapist who is experienced in adoption issues, including helping children work through their understandable grief.)
Before signing off I will say this morning was much calmer. Elisey is afraid of the dark, probably having never slept in a room without a light, but the lamp in their room was too bright, so we swapped it out for a nightlight. It's only been one night but they seemed to sleep much better as well as later--sleeping until 7 rather than 5. Step by step we figure out these things.
Thursday, December 6, 2012
A bit later
...and famous last words... but today has been slightly calmer. Maybe 15% calm rather than the 10% than it has been. Perhaps progress is being made after all.
One step forward, nine-tenths of a step back
...and repeat...
There is small progress, but it is slow and grueling. So sorry to be complaining. We would rather report on the joys of our new family.
Dimcho is mostly happy, with the occasional screaming meltdown, but less than once a day. He has suddenly become a fussy eater, disliking carrots and salad, which only a few days earlier he gobbled down. We assume this means he is feeling confident about food. Elisey is making some progress, sometimes accepting a compromise or a limit. And today we finished armoring the entranceway (read: install locks all around) and installed the clown, an inflatable Bozo bop bag, there, and successfully directed Elisey to beat him up. He needs an acceptable outlet for his frustration and anger and if we can get him to take it out on a clown, and not on us or his brother, so much the better.
Last night Elisey, after some prodding, relinquished his Android music tablet and sat on my lab while we read Dr. Seuss, and happily counted in both Bulgarian and English. When Dimcho was being difficult going to bed, Elisey announced repeatedly that he was tired. ("Izmoren" in Bulgarian.)
This morning we took chalk and were drawing on the back patio, very happily. But then Elisey wanted to write on walls inside, and on the carpet, and when we said no and invited him to go back outside, he flew into a rage and knocked things off a table.
And so it goes. There is progress: for example, he almost never attempts to mess with the CD/DVD players in the family room, or to plug and unplug it constantly, which he had in the early days. He seems to be seeking affection from us a little more often. Although we can't help but notice when he hugs us, he often uses the opportunity to fiddle with something behind one of us. Still, we assume even pretend affection will eventually morph into real affection.
And he does cry, genuinely, when one of us leaves the house to run an errand, which we hardly ever do. Today I ran to the post office, even explaining to him I was going and coming back, and being careful to wave to him from the car. Even so he ran to his room sobbing literally before I left the house. We assume this separation anxiety is ultimately a good thing, as it means the beginning of real attachment. And he can show compassion and empathy. The other day Donna teared up listening to some sentimental Christmas music and the boys became alarmed and called to me. The fact that they are upset by someone else displaying sadness is a real important step, we feel. We hope.
And so it goes...
There is small progress, but it is slow and grueling. So sorry to be complaining. We would rather report on the joys of our new family.
Dimcho is mostly happy, with the occasional screaming meltdown, but less than once a day. He has suddenly become a fussy eater, disliking carrots and salad, which only a few days earlier he gobbled down. We assume this means he is feeling confident about food. Elisey is making some progress, sometimes accepting a compromise or a limit. And today we finished armoring the entranceway (read: install locks all around) and installed the clown, an inflatable Bozo bop bag, there, and successfully directed Elisey to beat him up. He needs an acceptable outlet for his frustration and anger and if we can get him to take it out on a clown, and not on us or his brother, so much the better.
Last night Elisey, after some prodding, relinquished his Android music tablet and sat on my lab while we read Dr. Seuss, and happily counted in both Bulgarian and English. When Dimcho was being difficult going to bed, Elisey announced repeatedly that he was tired. ("Izmoren" in Bulgarian.)
This morning we took chalk and were drawing on the back patio, very happily. But then Elisey wanted to write on walls inside, and on the carpet, and when we said no and invited him to go back outside, he flew into a rage and knocked things off a table.
And so it goes. There is progress: for example, he almost never attempts to mess with the CD/DVD players in the family room, or to plug and unplug it constantly, which he had in the early days. He seems to be seeking affection from us a little more often. Although we can't help but notice when he hugs us, he often uses the opportunity to fiddle with something behind one of us. Still, we assume even pretend affection will eventually morph into real affection.
And he does cry, genuinely, when one of us leaves the house to run an errand, which we hardly ever do. Today I ran to the post office, even explaining to him I was going and coming back, and being careful to wave to him from the car. Even so he ran to his room sobbing literally before I left the house. We assume this separation anxiety is ultimately a good thing, as it means the beginning of real attachment. And he can show compassion and empathy. The other day Donna teared up listening to some sentimental Christmas music and the boys became alarmed and called to me. The fact that they are upset by someone else displaying sadness is a real important step, we feel. We hope.
And so it goes...
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Up and down and all around
What's hardest for us is the whipsawing back and forth. Elisey in particular will veer from pushing at limits, even physically lashing out, to crying uncontrollably if one of us steps out for a moment to run an errand, which we've hardly done. It's all pieces of the same puzzle, we understand, but it's still hard on us.
Yesterday was a better day. Elisey began to build a fort from furniture in the family room, the first time he had demonstrated such imaginative play; he wanted to take the cover from his bed, but accepted a compromise using a different blanket; and when it was lunchtime, he calmly dismantled the fort so we could use the chairs again to sit down at table.
Today was hard again. Elisey was acting out again, raging against limits. I'm sorry to always be writing about Elisey, but as you parents know out there it is the troubled child who occupies your thoughts. Dimcho has his meltdowns and tantrums, but they are smaller and over with more quickly. As he is younger it's also easier to "redirect" him. Elisey is old enough and smart enough to recognize we are trying to redirect him, which makes such efforts a challenge.
Dimcho is a happy kid. He will spontaneously tackle one or the other of us with a hug. He didn't want to take showers, probably afraid of the water on his face, but he loves baths and keeps saying how nice they are (this in all in Bulgarian: "hoo-baf" is the word). Again, Elisey, who loves bathtime even more than Dimcho, is a bit of a wet blanket, whining that Dimcho is splashing him even when he isn't, until we whisk Dimcho out of the bath, and then Elisey stays happily in the tub another half-hour, and would stay longer if we let him. We assume it's soothing to him so no harm done to soak for a while.
Dimcho also is very verbal and loves to lecture, wagging his finger at you--often his brother, but occasionally one of the two of us. We sometimes say Elisey is mostly id, while Dimcho is the superego trapped in the body of a five-year-old. Sometimes Dimcho wags his finger at me and says "Neh, neh, neh," ('no no no') which unfortunately is what they here most often from their Tatko ("Daddy").
We went to the doctor today; she thought overall they looked very good, though we have to get some tests. It only went south at the very end, when they got flu shots. Dimcho went first and even commented that he liked the little alcohol swipe on his skin. The actual shot then was a horrible surprise to him, and he screamed in pain. Elisey was surprisingly brave for the shot after witnessing that debacle. And it was touching to later watch Elisey comfort Dimcho, who was still upset for sometime; unprompted he shared with his brother some stickers he got from the office when exiting. Little moments like that help restore our faith in him. Afterwards they went back and forth on whether or not their arms still hurt; we got drive through french fries which went a long ways towards soothing injuries.
Despite the issues with Elisey, there are a lot of blessings. They eat well--the biggest "problem" in fact are them constantly asking for more, as if we might forget; we are happy to give them more, at least up to the point where one (guess which) starts to snatch at food. Because we give them some bread in a Tupperware container at bedtime, we both give them motivation to go to bed and have also minimized stealing and hoarding of food; they eat some of the bread, but often much of the bread lasts until morning, which means they are feeling safer and more confident. Although there are some minor battles over bedtime, they have generally been sleeping well, at least 8 hours and usually 10 hours a night. They now love bathtime and toilet troubles have been mostly minimal.
Elisey does enjoy reading Dr.Seuss with me, "One Fish, Two Fish..." and at appropriate points can count up to 11 in both Bulgarian and English. I take this as a very positive that he likes to do this as a pre-bedtime ritual, although he sometimes still gets bored with it.
I will post pictures. I just haven't had the energy to download from my camera. I've taken a lot, because they are both camera hogs and in particular Elisey loves to have his picture taken. This may be a useful tool in redirecting him, which we need to try more often.
Yesterday was a better day. Elisey began to build a fort from furniture in the family room, the first time he had demonstrated such imaginative play; he wanted to take the cover from his bed, but accepted a compromise using a different blanket; and when it was lunchtime, he calmly dismantled the fort so we could use the chairs again to sit down at table.
Today was hard again. Elisey was acting out again, raging against limits. I'm sorry to always be writing about Elisey, but as you parents know out there it is the troubled child who occupies your thoughts. Dimcho has his meltdowns and tantrums, but they are smaller and over with more quickly. As he is younger it's also easier to "redirect" him. Elisey is old enough and smart enough to recognize we are trying to redirect him, which makes such efforts a challenge.
Dimcho is a happy kid. He will spontaneously tackle one or the other of us with a hug. He didn't want to take showers, probably afraid of the water on his face, but he loves baths and keeps saying how nice they are (this in all in Bulgarian: "hoo-baf" is the word). Again, Elisey, who loves bathtime even more than Dimcho, is a bit of a wet blanket, whining that Dimcho is splashing him even when he isn't, until we whisk Dimcho out of the bath, and then Elisey stays happily in the tub another half-hour, and would stay longer if we let him. We assume it's soothing to him so no harm done to soak for a while.
Dimcho also is very verbal and loves to lecture, wagging his finger at you--often his brother, but occasionally one of the two of us. We sometimes say Elisey is mostly id, while Dimcho is the superego trapped in the body of a five-year-old. Sometimes Dimcho wags his finger at me and says "Neh, neh, neh," ('no no no') which unfortunately is what they here most often from their Tatko ("Daddy").
We went to the doctor today; she thought overall they looked very good, though we have to get some tests. It only went south at the very end, when they got flu shots. Dimcho went first and even commented that he liked the little alcohol swipe on his skin. The actual shot then was a horrible surprise to him, and he screamed in pain. Elisey was surprisingly brave for the shot after witnessing that debacle. And it was touching to later watch Elisey comfort Dimcho, who was still upset for sometime; unprompted he shared with his brother some stickers he got from the office when exiting. Little moments like that help restore our faith in him. Afterwards they went back and forth on whether or not their arms still hurt; we got drive through french fries which went a long ways towards soothing injuries.
Despite the issues with Elisey, there are a lot of blessings. They eat well--the biggest "problem" in fact are them constantly asking for more, as if we might forget; we are happy to give them more, at least up to the point where one (guess which) starts to snatch at food. Because we give them some bread in a Tupperware container at bedtime, we both give them motivation to go to bed and have also minimized stealing and hoarding of food; they eat some of the bread, but often much of the bread lasts until morning, which means they are feeling safer and more confident. Although there are some minor battles over bedtime, they have generally been sleeping well, at least 8 hours and usually 10 hours a night. They now love bathtime and toilet troubles have been mostly minimal.
Elisey does enjoy reading Dr.Seuss with me, "One Fish, Two Fish..." and at appropriate points can count up to 11 in both Bulgarian and English. I take this as a very positive that he likes to do this as a pre-bedtime ritual, although he sometimes still gets bored with it.
I will post pictures. I just haven't had the energy to download from my camera. I've taken a lot, because they are both camera hogs and in particular Elisey loves to have his picture taken. This may be a useful tool in redirecting him, which we need to try more often.
Monday, December 3, 2012
The Longest Day
Back to our time in Sofia...
By Friday we were exhausted, and Donna in particular was frazzled, unable to sleep due to worrying about the boys. Friday morning (the 23rd of November) we called our Bulgarian handlers and begged for someone to help watch the boys, just so we could pack for the trip home the following.
"I'm surprised you waited this long to call," Rosie told us. "Usually people call by Monday night, or Tuesday at the latest."
Stefan came and took the boys out (to McDonald's of all places, it turned out), and Donna took a quick nap and then we did most of our packing. After that Rosie came and gave us all our documents and receipts, and gave the boys a stern talking to. I'm not sure it did much good; the boys were still very wound up that night. But at least we all slept, at least a little.
Our flight out of Sofia was at 8 am. Fortunately another US family was traveling on two of the same three legs. To make things worse, I could not check us in online, and I worried about the seats we would be getting. It would be 24 hours of traveling straight, hard enough on Donna and I even if alone, but imagine with two young boys who don't really understand what is going on.
We lucked out, at least on the beginning. The Sofia airport was nearly empty and we whisked through check-in and security. The first leg of our flight was from Sofia to Vienna, and the flight crew were very kind to the boys. We had a couple of hours in Vienna, and then on to Dulles. Both of these legs were on Austrian Air, and I must say, it was infinitely better than Lufthansa. There was actually a bit of room even in economy, and the food was better too (in fact, a bit rich, and we worried about the boys having stomach problems due to rich food. Luckily know).
On the Vienna to Dulles leg, we let the boys listen to music and watch movies on their tablets, as well as the one cartoon movie, although Elisey wanted to change channels continuously. I didn't let him, so he pushed the plastic tabs on the seatback thinking they were buttons. The one thing he could adjust was the brightness, so that went up, then down, then up, then down. (We've noticed since coming home this need to change channels / tracks so much has already died down.)
That's a ten hour flight alone, so when we finally landed the boys were exhausted and fought being buckled in. We made it there, and through customs. The "immigration" for the boys, as Bulgarian citizens but as our relatives, went extremely smoothly and easily and the immigration official who handled it did it very quickly for us; we have nothing but praise for her. They are now also US citizens, and in the next weeks we will obtain additional paperwork, passports, SS numbers, and so on for them.
We still had the last 5 hour flight from Dulles to San Diego. It was a long long walk and the boys were very tired. Worse, as expected, the flights were packed and there were other families also trying to stay together. Initially the gate check clerk put 3 of us together and one in a separate seat, claiming that would be all they could or needed to do. There was very little to be done. Once we got on board, however, we were in the next-to-last row and in the last row were empty seats, so Donna sat with the boys and I sat right behind. We were all too tired to do much.
At last we got to San Diego, collected our luggage, took yet another bus to the parking lot, buckled the boys into their cars seats (donated to us by friends), and drove home. A little more than 24 hours after getting up, we were all at "novi dom," the boys' new home.
. . . . .
The "longest day" however was not the flight home, but today (well, yesterday, Sunday December 2), a week after returning home. Elisey was acting out, feeling angry, wanting to get into everything, slamming doors when he couldn't get his way, throwing things. This is normal, but it was exhausting to us, to him, and to his brother. We are supposed to "find ways to say yes" and imposing as little discipline as possible right now, and we are supposed to be "redirecting" his attention when it is negative, channeling his anger into appropriate expression, but it seems as if in his anger and frustration he tries to find the thing he is not allowed to do and to push at it. The best we do right now is to limit what he can do, such as putting away as many items as possible (our house looks like we are moving out), putting locks on doors, removing their bedroom door so he can't slam it, and so on. I understand he does believe or is afraid to believe we will true love and care for him and he is testing these limits. It's not easy on us. Parenthood is being on alert for 14+ hours a days, parenthood of new adopted children is being on high alert for 14 hours a day, and yesterday we were at DefCon 5 with the bombers circling at their failsafe points (that's a Cold War metaphor for you young-'uns out there). We are trying to find ways to channel his anger, such as a punching clown, but he refuses even that.
Dimcho is much less harder to handle. Part of that is age, part of that may be personality, but I also suspect that having an older brother shielded him somewhat from the isolation of the orphanage. Elisey probably protected Dimcho in many ways both physical and psychological, an unconscious sacrifice on his part for which he is now paying the price. (We also suspect that, even though their orphanage was less awful than many, Elisey may have experience some physical abuse. For his privacy we will not go into more detail; I only mention it because it helps to keep in mind he isn't just acting out, he has real reasons to be scared and angry.) It's going to be long, hard work for all of us.
By Friday we were exhausted, and Donna in particular was frazzled, unable to sleep due to worrying about the boys. Friday morning (the 23rd of November) we called our Bulgarian handlers and begged for someone to help watch the boys, just so we could pack for the trip home the following.
"I'm surprised you waited this long to call," Rosie told us. "Usually people call by Monday night, or Tuesday at the latest."
Stefan came and took the boys out (to McDonald's of all places, it turned out), and Donna took a quick nap and then we did most of our packing. After that Rosie came and gave us all our documents and receipts, and gave the boys a stern talking to. I'm not sure it did much good; the boys were still very wound up that night. But at least we all slept, at least a little.
Our flight out of Sofia was at 8 am. Fortunately another US family was traveling on two of the same three legs. To make things worse, I could not check us in online, and I worried about the seats we would be getting. It would be 24 hours of traveling straight, hard enough on Donna and I even if alone, but imagine with two young boys who don't really understand what is going on.
We lucked out, at least on the beginning. The Sofia airport was nearly empty and we whisked through check-in and security. The first leg of our flight was from Sofia to Vienna, and the flight crew were very kind to the boys. We had a couple of hours in Vienna, and then on to Dulles. Both of these legs were on Austrian Air, and I must say, it was infinitely better than Lufthansa. There was actually a bit of room even in economy, and the food was better too (in fact, a bit rich, and we worried about the boys having stomach problems due to rich food. Luckily know).
On the Vienna to Dulles leg, we let the boys listen to music and watch movies on their tablets, as well as the one cartoon movie, although Elisey wanted to change channels continuously. I didn't let him, so he pushed the plastic tabs on the seatback thinking they were buttons. The one thing he could adjust was the brightness, so that went up, then down, then up, then down. (We've noticed since coming home this need to change channels / tracks so much has already died down.)
That's a ten hour flight alone, so when we finally landed the boys were exhausted and fought being buckled in. We made it there, and through customs. The "immigration" for the boys, as Bulgarian citizens but as our relatives, went extremely smoothly and easily and the immigration official who handled it did it very quickly for us; we have nothing but praise for her. They are now also US citizens, and in the next weeks we will obtain additional paperwork, passports, SS numbers, and so on for them.
We still had the last 5 hour flight from Dulles to San Diego. It was a long long walk and the boys were very tired. Worse, as expected, the flights were packed and there were other families also trying to stay together. Initially the gate check clerk put 3 of us together and one in a separate seat, claiming that would be all they could or needed to do. There was very little to be done. Once we got on board, however, we were in the next-to-last row and in the last row were empty seats, so Donna sat with the boys and I sat right behind. We were all too tired to do much.
At last we got to San Diego, collected our luggage, took yet another bus to the parking lot, buckled the boys into their cars seats (donated to us by friends), and drove home. A little more than 24 hours after getting up, we were all at "novi dom," the boys' new home.
. . . . .
The "longest day" however was not the flight home, but today (well, yesterday, Sunday December 2), a week after returning home. Elisey was acting out, feeling angry, wanting to get into everything, slamming doors when he couldn't get his way, throwing things. This is normal, but it was exhausting to us, to him, and to his brother. We are supposed to "find ways to say yes" and imposing as little discipline as possible right now, and we are supposed to be "redirecting" his attention when it is negative, channeling his anger into appropriate expression, but it seems as if in his anger and frustration he tries to find the thing he is not allowed to do and to push at it. The best we do right now is to limit what he can do, such as putting away as many items as possible (our house looks like we are moving out), putting locks on doors, removing their bedroom door so he can't slam it, and so on. I understand he does believe or is afraid to believe we will true love and care for him and he is testing these limits. It's not easy on us. Parenthood is being on alert for 14+ hours a days, parenthood of new adopted children is being on high alert for 14 hours a day, and yesterday we were at DefCon 5 with the bombers circling at their failsafe points (that's a Cold War metaphor for you young-'uns out there). We are trying to find ways to channel his anger, such as a punching clown, but he refuses even that.
Dimcho is much less harder to handle. Part of that is age, part of that may be personality, but I also suspect that having an older brother shielded him somewhat from the isolation of the orphanage. Elisey probably protected Dimcho in many ways both physical and psychological, an unconscious sacrifice on his part for which he is now paying the price. (We also suspect that, even though their orphanage was less awful than many, Elisey may have experience some physical abuse. For his privacy we will not go into more detail; I only mention it because it helps to keep in mind he isn't just acting out, he has real reasons to be scared and angry.) It's going to be long, hard work for all of us.
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