Reality

Well, it's only been a little over a week since we've been home with our new kids, so it's probably a little early to make any generalizations about our new life, but one thing I will say, is that it's exhausting!  Just as one would expect with so many preschoolers dropped into your lap.  Obviously, if you travel around the world to get them, they're not exactly "dropped into your lap" but you get my meaning.

I think some people are getting frustrated that there isn't more reality in blogging about special needs adoption, and that too many people paint a rosy picture, and lead others to unreasonable expectations.  Well, no one's ever accused me of not being real enough.  In fact, my husband likes to say, "you don't have to tell people everything."  Especially if it involves him.  Speaking of-- after one particularly trying episode with our new little son, when I swooped in after working for three nights, and then took over the childcare (which you'd think he'd be grateful for) and changed all the routine he had established, he said, "Try being with them 24 hours a day!"  I almost died, it was so funny.  Let's see... how many years was I a stay-at-home mom, who lived rurally, on a very modest income, homeschooling, with 6 kids...

Okay, even though he doesn't like it when I tell stories on him, (and now you know why) I will say that he has been amazing, and has embraced my dream as his own, and it is now our dream.  He does look a little ragged around the edges, from being on "24 hours a day" but he's getting the kids established in figuring out their new home, and what it means to be in a family, and I'm trying not to sabotage his efforts by babying them too much.  He's a strong believer in order, routine, and self-discipline.  Well, it worked pretty good on our first crowd.  The next crowd is showing signs of getting in the groove, too.  He always complained that I babied the first crowd too much, also, so I think we're doing fine.

So, reality is that our new son doesn't like his new life.  He may have orphanage behavior with rocking, and staring at the ceiling to avoid eye contact, and being reluctant to explore his new surroundings, but if he has a chance at being a normal kid (and of course, I say that meaning normal childhood curiosity, activity and delight) then we are going to give him that chance.  He will have boundaries, he will not be the strongest person in his universe (which is actually terrifying for a kid) and he will know that we are there to keep him safe.  He will also grow to care what his parents think, he will want to please us, and he will be happy when we are proud of his accomplishments.  He will also know that we care, because we will hold him accountable for his behavior.  If he is not capable of all this, we will know it soon enough, and we will adjust, but for now, if it is just a very strong-willed boy trying to figure out his place in the universe, then we are up for the challenge.

We know he is capable of learning, because even though he appears to be such a baby, someone has obviously taught him about the potty.  The other day, he had a dry diaper, so I sat him on the potty chair, and he immediately peed.  Since then, I have been regularly getting him onto the potty.  Strange, since he seems so young, but he obviously prefers to be dry.  Someone has also taught him to hold his own cup.  At this point, he is very capricious about eating and drinking.  It all depends on whether he likes what is being served, and that changes from day to day.  One day he loves oatmeal, and wants seconds, and then another day he hates oatmeal.  Same thing with juices, gatorade, soy milk (I've tried everything!)  It just depends on whether he's in the mood to cooperate that day.  Every time he drinks from a cup, I heave a big sigh of relief.  Finally!  We're over that hump, all will be easy sailing from here on out!  Wrong.  Next day it's like the first day all over again.

The other reality is that except for the teeth-grinding, our Littlest Girl is the child everyone hopes to get when they go to adopt one of these orphans.  She is pure sunshine, and loves to love.  She is very outgoing, and loves when anyone smiles at her.  She giggles as if you just said the funniest things.  She cries with a broken heart if she gets scolded even the least little bit.  She loves to snuggle when she's tired.  Will she ever have any behavior issues?  Who knows?  For now, she's loving her new life, and her new family, and loves learning new things, and exploring every corner of her new home.

More reality is that it is very rewarding watching our Big Girl blossom.  She has had much less attention in the past, and she was ready for some!  She has not been aggressive at all toward the younger children, as the orphanage personnel feared, and we've even seen a huge reduction in her aggressive tendencies toward adults.  She also grinds her teeth, but she's doing less of that already.  She's been like our boy, and been reluctant to move from one spot, but today, she followed me all over the house, while I did housework, sometimes just holding on to my pants leg to keep up, and keep track of me.  She wants to kiss me, but with her tongue hanging out, more like just stick it on my face.  Big Sis and I are trying to teach her how to make a kissing motion, because I guess no one's ever shown her how.  I got on her for something today, and she looked at me, and made a kissing smack into the air at me.  Sassy!  I can see that there will probably come a day when she gets jealous of the other two kids, and we're watching for that, but for now, the kids are not much interested in each other.

I hope this gives other people a glimpse of the reality of adopting special needs kids, although you can not really have a concept until you're in the middle of it, and asking yourself, "What have I just done?"  Reality is, probably everyone asks themselves that question.  I just kept saying, through our long, drawn out process, "This is too huge for us to accomplish ourselves.  It has to be God's doing."  And that's how I know we're right where we're supposed to be, and these kids are right where they're supposed to be.  And I know he is faithful, and will carry us through.  Will we have rough times in the future?  My guess is, yes.  The reality is that right now, some of it is fun, and some of it is not fun.  Kind of like life in general, but on a bigger scale.

The many faces of The Boy Who Would Be King.  Notice that he doesn't grace us with a lot of facial expressions.  Actually, we have discovered that when he's interested in something, his eyes get very wide, and his mouth opens even wider.  Smiles are in short supply lately, even when playing with balls, or rough-housing.

This is the child who looks like she came from an Easter egg...

Big Girl is getting to have a real childhood, complete with a family and a mama and daddy, and she's savoring every minute (so far!)

Livin' the dream!

Since I didn't post for so long, I'm doing two in one day, so be sure to go back and read my last one also.

Here are some more pictures to start off with...

Even after getting scratched, still intrigued by the cat...

Okay, maybe more like obsessed with the cat...

I call this just asking for trouble.

The first Thanksgiving, the pilgrims came from Europe, and shared a feast with the people of the Americas.



"I got a whole boatload of brothers!" 



"I love my new brother-in-law!



"Daddy's all worn out from taking care of us for three days, and cooking Thanksgiving dinner!"



Sure, he looks all innocent, but look who else had a run-in with the cat...

"I don't understand this rough-housing..."

"Let me help you to understand..."

Gettiing the hang of things

Bath buddies!

"It's the most wonderful time of the day..."

Bonding with biggest brother

Male bonding over a meal-- I mean, mail...

Someone is learning to pose.  Also practicing for when her hair is a bit longer.

Read below for the story behind the swollen nose and fat lip.

I wish you could see the one large tear which was glistening on his cheek.

Everyone has become acquainted with the corner.

Learning how to handle hair more appropriately.  My big kids are saying, "She's just using that as an excuse to get someone to brush her hair!"

The battle of the princessas is on!

Feels like we time-traveled back to an age of diapers and toddlers.  Naptimes, bathtimes, etc.  It's been a blast from the past.   Everyone's been getting acquainted, and getting adjusted to life as the New and Improved Lutz's.

Our two sons enjoyed being thrust into a completely new world, even though our oldest son confided earlier that he didn't have much use for pets or small children--too much work.  Our youngest son knew all along that he was going to love being an older brother, and last summer planted a strawberry patch in anticipation of the new arrivals.  He wants them to pick strawberries, because he remembered it being so much fun when he was little.

Our youngest daughter had many reservations, and had informed us that just because we signed a bunch of papers, that didn't mean that these kids would be her siblings.  She already had plenty of siblings, thank you very much.  Well, the first night, she admitted that Littlest Girl was really cute, and the next day said she "couldn't help" carrying her around nonstop.  After a few days, though, that got old, and she didn't want to carry Tiny Sister around any more, but by then Tiny Sister was used to Slave Sister fulfilling her every whim, and so they had to come to an understanding, even though it wasn't pretty.  First Princess won out, though, and has her spot back.  Princess #2 has conceded defeat, and is now trying to rope everyone else in the family into carrying her around.

People keep asking me how the children are adjusting and how they like it in America.  I'm pretty sure they have no concept that they're in America.  They do know that they're somewhere different, though.  As far as adjustment, with the girls, I would say, "What adjustment?"  With Little Boy, I would say that he thinks he drew the unlucky lottery ticket, and got sent to a bad orphanage, where the servants don't know their jobs, and don't show proper respect to the customers.

I didn't see it coming, but he has turned everything into a battle of wills.  David called it right away, and said, "He thinks he's had a hard life, so he has the right to act this way," but I thought, "well, he's such a baby, surely he doesn't think that, not at his age."  Well, even though they all seem to be two years old most of the time, they keep startling me, because they'll do something that is obviously a 4-yr-old thing, or even a 6-yr-old thing (Big Girl) occasionally.  Apparently, 4 years is long enough to have drawn some conclusions about life, and about the way things should be, and to have some expectations that other people will observe and respect those conclusions.  I'm not sure what his expectations are, since we don't speak the same language, but there are some universal body language actions that are pretty clear.

At first I was very worried that he would become dehydrated, as we could not seem to find what he would drink.  We only saw the oldest girl eat and drink, and assumed every house was the same.  Little Girl follows our expectations, and has the same behaviours about mealtime as Big Girl, but our boy has a whole different set, and since we didn't ask our interpreter to find out, we don't know.  We've tried juices, electrolyte drinks, water, teas--sweetened and unsweetened, drinkable yogurt... sippy cups of different styles, bottles with different sized nipples, and regular cups.  We finally resorted to making him drink about 25 cc of water every few hours, and managed to keep him in wet diapers and wet tears every time he cried (which was often.)  You can think what you want, but I'm a nurse, and I know what happens to dehydrated kids when they go to the hospital, and nurses keep trying to get that IV in until they do.  Dehydrated kids are tougher to start IV's on in the first place, but they're the ones who really need it.  Anyway, we didn't want to go down that road.

Eating was another challenge with him.  We couldn't figure out what he'd eat.  It wasn't what the girls would eat.  Finally we resorted to jars of baby food, and voila! He had an appetite.  So until we got home, that's what he ate.  Now that he's home, we're slowly teaching him to eat regular food, cut up into small chunks.  Of course, every mealtime is a battle, though.   Feeding himself is an issue, too.  He didn't appear to know how to manipulate a spoon at first.  He's the same age as Littlest Girl, and he's skinny with ribs showing and spindly legs, so possibly these have all  been  issues for him for a long time.  Our practice is to set him up with everyone else, give him the the same food, bib and utensils, and then give him the opportunity to eat or not eat, as he chooses, while everyone else eats.  So far, he chooses not to eat, and sits and cries piteously during the whole meal.  Then we feed him when everyone else is done.  At first he refused his food every time until I pureed it, but now he'll eat it as chunks (most of the time.)  Then we started showing him how to hold his own spoon, and guide it to his mouth.  That also offends him severely.  However, he now guides it to pick up what he prefers out of the bowl, and guides it to his mouth, but will not do it if someone isn't holding their hand over his.  Then he will yell, cry and just generally throw a tantrum, if you try to get him to do it himself.

We did have a breakthrough a few days ago.  I got the kids up early, and let them sit at the table in their jammies, and made them hot chocolate.  The girls were in heaven, and I gave him a cup and spoon also.  He played with the spoon for awhile, then figured out how to dip it into the drink, then how to taste it off the spoon, and when I finally held the cup for him, he gulped it all down.  Hallelujah!  David said, "Well, we know he'll drink hot chocolate."  Since then he drinks from a cup quite nicely--if he's in the mood.  It all depends on whether he's trying to teach us a lesson or not.  I'm so glad we adopted all three of the kids.  The girls are all sunshine and light, and he gives no warm fuzzies!  We've had strong willed kids before though, so we're no strangers to the struggles.

 

A frosty morning, and hot chocolate

"Dee-lish!"

"The messier it is, the better it is!"

"I'm only tasting this because I want to..."

  The story about the littlest girl and the fat lip is that her rowdy older siblings were carrying her, while chasing each other all over the house, and younger brother, wearing only socks on his feet, slipped and fell, and her face hit the floor.  Many tears were shed, blood flowed, older people who should know better were scolded, heartfelt apologies were offered, and forgiveness was given.  Welcome to the all-american childhood!

One more thing I'll tell you is that the first bath was pure terror.  Well, not for us, but for them, it was.  We held them down and scrubbed all the grime, snot, and ucky diaper yuck off of them, while they screamed for their lives.  We didn't have hot water in the apartment for the last two days of our stay, so they needed a good scrubbing.  The next day was round two for Little Boy who yelled like crazy, but Littlest Girl came in and watched, and then started to swish her hands in the water over the edge of the tub.  She was more than happy to get in and play with the toys, and then Little Boy finally decided to play, too.  Big Girl watched them, and then got into the act.  Now bathtime is funtime.  Today Little Boy was giving me attitude, and since the girls were playing in the bath, and he was fussing about something (as usual) I decided to torture him by letting him watch the girls play until he quit fussing.  Next thing I know, he had jumped into the tub, jammies and all!  David says, "You were going to torture him, but he tortured you instead!" 

Happy Thanksgiving!

So, here it is Thanksgiving, and I'm done with work for the week, and back home in Wilson Creek, in spite of the snowstorm that we had. The second night at work, we had about 8 inches of snow, and it was 7 degrees outside, so after the de-icer went around the parking lot, the hill was too slick for me to drive down. I tried twice, and the second time, when I was part way down, and my car was sideways, I put it in reverse, backed it up the hill, and called my mom and stepdad, who rescued me in their big 4-wheel drive. Thank you!!

The third night it got down to 19 degrees below zero, and the heating system went out in the hospital. We were moving patients from the frigid rooms into the warmer rooms, and handing out warm blankets to everyone. The maintenance guy worked for 2 hrs, (outside!) and fixed the heating. Thank you!!

David came to get me, and since my car wouldn't start, gave me a jump, and I was able to drive down the hill without any problem. Thank you, honey!!

God keeps reminding me that I'm far from self-sufficient, and need to rely on him (and others, apparently) all the time, so I don't get too proud.

Okay, so I know no one really wants to hear about me, so here are some pictures of the kiddos from when we were in their country, and then I'll tell you all about our trip home.

I don't know why, but the game "Barrel of Monkeys" comes to mind.

So few pictures of the little man smiling--that makes them more precious.

Everyone knows that the simplest things make the best toys.

This makes me think, "prehensile tail."

Yet another display of the super-flexibility of the Darlin's with Down syndrome.

Nothing sweeter than babies in blanket sleepers.



"I miss my orphanage..."



"And you're the villains who took me away!"

"You guys are my heroes!"

Back to the theme of reliance on God and others-- our second night in the apartment, we were still a bit overwhelmed by the kids, even though they were starting to get the hang of the words "no-no!"  Our coordinator and her husband brought us McDonald's, which was such a blessing, and made us feel so loved.

We had some issues with getting the birth certificates for the kids, and it took several days, and we ended up waiting around in offices for hours (this was before we got the kids out.)  Continuing that pattern, the day before we needed to leave (we had plane tickets for 5:30 am) we went for the medical exams, and ended up waiting around for hours in a small playroom with the other family I mentioned several times in an earlier post, who are adopting the boy with cerebral palsy, and were on the same track as we were.  They were also leaving the next day, but in the afternoon.  We had brought some snacks, but that doesn't take the place of lunch, and nothing takes the place of naps!  Our facilitator finally arrived, triumphant, with the passports, and it was off to the US embassy for our second interview (our first interview had been the day before, and that family had also been there with us;  they babysat for us while we filled out lots of paperwork which we hadn't realized we should fill out beforehand online.)

Anyhoo... as we were all there at the embassy, waiting patiently for our golden tickets to freedom, they told us that there was a problem with our boy's passport, and that his middle name was spelled wrong (remember our court being delayed because his name was spelled wrong--by them, not us;  again, on the passport-- by them, not us!)  They told us that it had been submitted electronically to be verified by facial recognition, and that it would take anywhere from several minutes to 24 hours (!)  I was so mad I could have spit.  I said, "If I'd known that this would happen, I wouldn't have even given him a middle name!"

The other family was so distressed for us (we were all so tired, and emotionally done) that they stayed for a long time while we waited, just talking with us, and giving moral support.  Then they went and got McDonald's for us, and sat with us while we ate.  The embassy staff told us that we should take the children home (this was at about 3 pm) but we told them that we would wait there until closing time at 5:30 pm.  We didn't want to take a chance on not getting back for the visas before they closed.  We dreaded the thought of missing that flight, having to try to book new tickets, paying the fees for making changes ($1000) and booking a new apartment, and moving into it.

At 4:30, the other family finally left, and I went out of the embassy to find a little store to buy some food for Little Boy, since he wouldn't eat regular food, and after going through security to get back in, I was greeted by the sight of David packing everything up, and he yelled to me, "We're going home!"  I stopped in amazement, and then just started sobbing those loud, embarrassing sobs that happen when you're either so unhappy or so happy that you lose control.  He just hugged me, and smiled really huge.

After that, things were a whirlwind.  We called the other family, and they cheered when they heard the news, which made me start to cry again (not those big sobs, though, thankfully.)  We were dead tired already, but we packed, and took turns taking a nap, then at 2:00 am, our usual driver (Edward--awesome guy, who speaks no english, but was super patient and helpful) picked us up and took us to the airport.

It was crazy trying to carry the kids, and drag all our luggage in and get everything where it needed to go, but we did it.  After that, we asked the flight attendants on each flight to arrange special services to meet us at the gate to help us, and that made an amazing difference.  Frankfurt airport personnel were so helpful and so were the Sea-Tac folks.  Lufthansa is an amazing airline, and I would recommend them.  The flight attendants were so attentive, and one lady even gave our big girl a drink by kneeling down to hold the cup for her.  That is a messy proposition--trust me--but she was a good sport, and held the cup for her to the very end, even with all the giggling and sputtering.  It was just a very beautiful and compassionate act.

When we went through the extra security, we had to divest ourselves of coats, shoes, belts, and there were three ladies at the end who redressed our children, while we got ourselves together, and asked us lots of questions about the kids, and about why we were adopting.

On our long flight, I felt very self-conscious because the children had such snotty noses and cruddy eyes, but with no hot water in our apartment the last two days, I just wasn't able to soften any of it enough to clean it off really well.  It helps to have cooperative children, too, when you're trying that, and they really weren't.  Also, on the flight I was worried that people would be judgemental of our children having Down syndrome, and that people would be less patient if our children were loud, but in the end, even though people stared a lot, the children really only made happy noises, and when we were leaving the plane, many people reached out to stroke them as they went by or waved to them, and tried to get them to say, "bye."  These were people of all different nationalities, too, so I think that says something.

The kids were amazing on the long flight, and napped and played in their seats.  They enjoyed being fed, and cuddled.  We brought benadryl along, just in case, but we never needed it, Thank you, God!

On our last short leg home, we took a commuter plane, and we were separated by 4 seats in the back, and 1 seat in the front.  I relegated David to the back with the kids, while I sat in the front and pretended I was single and childless.  Just kidding!  It was a great view, though, even though it was really loud.  The flight attendant was completely charmed by the kids, and by our incredible journey, and we talked a lot through the flight, comparing caring for patients and caring for passengers.  David was befriended by a couple in the back, who helped comfort the kids when the plane started to descend and the pressure change began to hurt their ears.

As we landed, the flight attendant told me that at one time she had started to wonder if her job had any meaning, and then she realized, "I'm bringing people home!"  Well, you all know me, and the waterworks started again!

As we straggled out of the airport, the husband of the couple in the back of the plane, (who was big and beefy, like a football player)  stopped David, shook his hand, and put his other hand on David's cheek, in a very tender gesture.  There was David, looking so bedraggled, and weary, loaded down with children and bags.  David just smiled at him.  I really thought the guy was going to burst into tears.  When I say that this was the biggest thing I could think of to do with the rest of our lives, I really think that there are other people out there who think that, too.

Our daughter and her husband and our youngest son met us at the airport, and it was a great reunion with some of our children.  Later we met up with two more of our children.  We still have two more kids who won't see our newest additions for a few weeks, but they are very excited.  All in all, it is grand to be home, and we love the USA even more, now that we've been away, and then come home to our homeland.  God Bless America !!  

Patience needed

Okay, this title is for all of you waiting to hear how we're adjusting to life with the triplets. I'm so sorry that I haven't posted since we got the kids. Well, with the kids in the studio apartment, and all the crazy running around, so that we could leave the country, and then the long flight home, followed by discovering that we have no internet at home, over the weekend, well, you understand!

This is not the post you've been waiting for, either. So, yes, more patience needed. I don't have my camera with me for all those adorable pictures you're craving, but I didn't want to leave you hanging for too long, so I snagged this computer to let you know that you have to wait a little longer. I'm working the next three nights, and David is doing stay-at-home-Dad duty, so it won't be for another three days either. I'm sorry! I can't do everything! (My kids will recognize that tone.)

Just to quickly let you know, after the long, stressful flight home, with little sleep, everyone got sick. I've never seen so much snot and crusty eyes! The kids had it pretty bad, too. Just kidding; David and I only got sore throats, and lost our voices. Luckily, the kids had already learned "no-no!" so they could understand it when we whispered.

I have lots of stories stored up for you, so tune back in a few days, and I'll tell all. Suffice it to say, we are exhausted and exhilarated. (I can't think of any more "exh" words.) We are amazed at God's goodness, and the kindness of strangers, and of those whom we no longer consider strangers. (God bless you; you know who you are!)

It is fitting that in a few days, those who formerly had no family will be sitting around our Thanksgiving table, sharing our feast with us, and will be with their family for the first time in their lives. THEY ARE HOME!!! PRAISE GOD!!!

"God setteth the solitary in families..." Psalm 68:6

NOW, it's Gotcha Day!



First one...



Then two...




The whole gang!




Pure chaos--like a hive of bees exploded!



"That's better!  Now we're more comfortable!"




Trying to keep them corralled for a few minutes




Exploring...everything!





Laying down after vomiting...the first time...



"I like it here with you guys!"




More exploring




In time out



"Ahh...finally, chowtime!'




"I like your soup, Dad!"




"I don't think it tastes good, but then, I've been vomiting, so..."



Just vegging with Dad

  Today we went to pick up the kids, but first we had to do paperwork, wait around, then go to the bank, wait around, you get the picture.  We dropped off the clothes for the kids, so that they'd be ready when we got done with all our paperwork, and when we dropped off the clothes for Littlest Girl, there was much concern that the clothes were not warm enough, and her shoes weren't either.  In fact, there was a major argument, with our facilitator finally demanding whether they thought she would be better off staying there.  They retorted that we were medical people who should understand how to dress a child. 

We then went to the Big Girl's house, and Daddy tried to drop off the clothes without her seeing him, but the ladies pointed him out, and said, "Papa! Papa!"  Then there was such wailing and gnashing of teeth as she was left behind!  I have never heard her cry from anger or in a whining way.  David says she has an "honest cry."  Her soul is bared when she sobs.

When we went back to get Littlest Girl, our facilitator was still fried, but I told her, "I understand how she feels.  She cares so much about these children, and it's hard for her to let them go.  She finds something to be mad about, so she doesn't have to think about how much it hurts to watch them leave."  When we picked up our child, I saw the look on the particular woman's face, and I couldn't hold it in anymore.  I started balling, and then I just went around and started hugging all the women.  But I was laughing too, for me, and for us, and for this journey, which has been successful!  They all started hugging me back, and laughing, too.  They waved from the door, as we drove away, until we couldn't see them anymore.  Later, the facilitator said, "It was good that you cried.  They like to see it when the mothers cry.  It makes them feel good."

We went to our boy's house, and there wasn't as much fanfare, but several ladies let me take pictures of them, and hug them.  One of the ladies I thought cared about him the most, wouldn't let me take a picture of her, though, and went away wiping her eyes.  Bittersweet.

Our big girl was given a reserved, but loving send off with kisses and pictures with several of the ladies from her house.  They let me hug them all, too, although some of them I hadn't seen before, so they probably wondered why, but I figured, what the heck!

We got out of the cab after a long ride to the city, and David was juggling a kid, trying to pay the fare, and get all the bags.  I was holding onto two squirming kids, and Big Girl, who was sweating profusely from being so warmly dressed, slipped her coat.  David took Small Girl, and I came after, carrying coats, and trying to get Big Girl to walk, as she was grabbing at everything.  She pulled on a car door, and set off the alarm, so there was quite a bit of noise as we dragged ourselves and our kids inside.  I got some glares, which might have been because I dared to walk a child from the car to the apartment without a coat on!  Or it might have been the alarm!

As I mentioned above, it was pure chaos when we walked in the doors.  We were trying to change poopy diapers, get sweaty kids out of numerous layers, and keep them from dismantling the apartment and everything in it.  It was quite the balancing act for several hours there.  I don't think I've said or heard "no-no" as many times in one day as we said it.  What's the most fun?  Let me think... I think they like hitting the flat screen TV with anything they can grab, better than trying to slam the glass bathroom door on each other's fingers.  It's like having super-mobile 1 1/2 year-olds.  We really could have used that nanny for a few hours.  We also had projectile vomiting all over the apartment, and even onto the walls.  Try getting a panicky child into the bathroom, while trying to keep two curious kids out of the vomit in the main room.  David did awesome!  He gets kudos because he cleaned up the main room, and mopped, and supervised the other two, while I showered the vomitee (or vomiter) and cleaned up the bathroom.   Usually he is a sympathetic vomiter, and adds to the problem.  Way to go, honey!

Well, David got dinner cooked, while I supervised, and we fed the munchkins, and then they started to settle down.  There's only so many times you can try the same old things in this apartment, and get into trouble for it!  The little boy had to be held by David, and spoon-fed by me, so we didn't get any pictures of him eating.

David was wondering how soon each kid would realize that they're not going back to the orphanage, and how upset they'd each be about it.  So far, no one seems unhappy, or longing for home, so we're good so far.  No telling how long it will last.  I guess this is something of a honeymoon period, although they're having more of a honeymoon than we are.  Just kidding!  We're in heaven.  What a lot of work they are, but how beautiful, and what a blessing, that three little kids, unwanted by anyone else, are gracing our apartment tonight!  Thank you, God!