Forward

Ah!  So, with some bumps in the daily road identified, I've adjusted (with some insight from the hubby) how we go about our evenings, as well as pinpointed for each child one (1) behavior focus (yes, for each of the FOUR children), and have a positive reinforcement plan in place (easy, simple, and somethin' the kids will like).  Of course, any plan is only as good as its execution and the mindfulness of the troop leader.  Anywho, Tuesday pm was soooo crazy hectic (including the cheer performance at Dad's ball game), that I did most of the kids' evening list for them (and all went well), and so, Wednesday eve brought our first attempt at four kids taking responsibility for ALL of their own "to do" tasks.  And, um, it led to far more chaos than this newbie had anticipated.  Tonight, however, we struck an orchestrated balance of me being the Grand Keeper and Monitor of the Lists while each child performed jobs according to my timing for them (ie. "Girls, go upstairs to get done the clothes-picking-out, Bay's piano practice, & Anna's graph-coloring," and this allowed for me to check in with the boys -- just 2 kids -- on their backpack contents and homework load for the night).    Reminders were still necessary about waiting turns without (loud) interruptions, and this took a lot of reinforcement, reminders, and PATIENCE, but  .  .  .  much, MUCH more manageable.

And the girls got a whole new supply (ample!) of new hair ribbons (just for wardrobe fun), and they each also got (courtesy of Target's $1 aisle) a little desk-top mailbox, which Mom is hoping will motivate some fun note-leaving between the girls  .  .  .  subtle steps toward sisterly intimacy.  I tried to jump-start it by leaving a scrolled message for each girl tied up with pink, sheer ribbon.  As of mid-eve Bay had taken the bait -- two pictures drawn for Anna and folded secretly into the mailbox; maybe big sis' will find them tomorrow evening.

And in the daytime hours I try to crawl out from under the pile of ovewhelming backlog -- adoption documents and processes, bills, taxes, appoinments -- as well as take care of mundane business that would otherwise add to the nighttime hecticness  .  .  .  because right now the evenings are so full I feel a new dimension of time, space, or kiwi birds might explode or implode or somethin'.  Admittedly, it's because I am unwilling to give up staying/getting connected with the kids -- not only monitoring their health, nutrition, hygiene and other BASIC parental stuff, but you know, fellow parents -- going beyond helping with homework and packing lunches to have at least a smidgen of time to actually LISTEN to each child one-on-one.  Presently, we have the added challenge of still getting to know, really know, two of our kids while assisting with what is more challenging than typical homework sessions. 

Anywho, this is why I am home. 

And during the full and busy, but quiet, daytime hours I've allowed myself quick snippets of things that help me feel like the pre-earthquake me  .  .  .  like buying this frame for the Haitian card my sis' and bro'-in-law gave to Chad at Christmas.  Blogging, albeit done late at night, has been a good therapy, too.  It hasn't been until the kids are finally home AND I have some still time that the magnitude of the stress and trauma is hitting me -- so, so, exhausted.  I swear it FEELS like even daily massages, trays of bon-bons, 23 hours of sleep, and the purest bottled water in the world wouldn't be enough to do the trick.  In reality, time will.  (And in reality, those other things would leave me poor, fat, and bloated.)  So, I proceed with gettin' stuff done and attempt to pace myself, allowing for some breathers. 

Back to the frame -- it reminds me of the gorgeous wood panels in the lobby of Port-au-Prince's Hotel Karibe.  Odd.  I don't know if the styling is at all Haitian; I suspect more colonial.  And only the upper class Haitians and foreign travelers stay there.  For our own safety and to access comforts that would best allow for our focus to be on the children with whom we were visiting, we took the advice to book at the Karibe.  Simple association -- gorgeous wood panels means "Haiti" to me, even though a mere second of thought reminds me that I clearly know much, much better than that.  A few more seconds, and I remember one random news headline among many about the return of "Baby Doc" Duvalier to Haiti that mentions his stay at the Karibe  .  .  .  and current headlines about the potential return of Aristide  .  .  .  and a run-off election scheduled for March between the current top two candidates from the contested and protested November presidential election  .  .  .  and endless speculation about what Duvalier's presence and Aristide's possible landing might mean for the current political unrest.  A ravaged nation faces mounting uncertainty. 

I contemplate it from afar, worry about the two kiddos still in Haiti and their parents, and fear for the safety, health, and future of the birth family of our new children.  I think about others I know in that land. 

I fret from within my warm, comfortable house -- complete with a fancy wooden picture frame.  

Our healthy, typically happy, usually thoughtful children clamoring for my attention seems oh, so pedestrian a concern.  Hmm.  I think I can deal.  Get a grip, Cluver Lady.