Apple Picking

Rose got to play big sister to Lucy and Ben today at the apple orchard. It was her first visit to an apple orchard, and she really loved it.

Ben, however, I'm not sure liked this photo.

Despite my best attempts in Paint, I was unable to remove the strange girl to the left of Rose and Lucy.

Conspiracy of the Schulte women

At McDonald's, a high school aged cashier eyed me and once Rose was out of ear shot asked, "Is she your daughter?"

"Yep!" I said, proudly.

He looked a little baffled but didn't press it. I always wonder if the confusion is because the three of us don't look genetically related. Or if because to some I look a shade too young to have a 10-year-old. Or because while they can grasp me having Rose, Mike doesn't make sense, or vise versa.

Interestingly I, more so than Mike, get this question from people. Lately the questions and confused looks have become a joke between Rose and I.

As we ate our dinner, I told Rose, "we fooled another one" and then told her the story. She high fived me, and we laughed as if we're fooling the world. Sometimes, when people ask who Rose belongs to in front of her, Rose will proudly tell people how old I was when she was born as she winks at me in an obvious way.

In the end, people's rudeness is actually helping us bond as a family, so it really doesn't bother me too much. Pry away, folks, pry away.

Just because

We love her

Laundry

Rose has a thing with using the same towels or jeans more than once. So, we find ourselves doing more laundry than ever before. She even takes to throwing our towels on the floor before their time.

Yet, if the constant clothes washing somehow puts her at ease as reassures her we care, so be it. Hopefully a few of you will step up your "green" efforts to make up for our expanding carbon footprint.

Pleasant Confession

This morning I put on a new pair of black boots as Rose ate french toast. Ok, I wore the boots while I made french toast, kinda like a new age Donna Reed.

While admiring my find she said, "Mom, remember Monday night how I slept on the couch after 2:10 a.m.? Well, before I got on the couch, I peeked into your shoe box. I couldn't help it. They were so pretty."

So my daughter may not have my genes but she has my love of Anne Klein shoes. I smiled and said, finish your french toast in the most motherly moment I think I have had thus far.

Harmony

It feels like a freak of nature when everything goes smoothly.

Today was Rose's first open house with us. Her only fifth grade open house. Rose was thrilled to see Mike and I and ecstatic to show us her classroom, work and introduce us to her teachers. It was in complete contrast to the school day Rose usually describes as "fine" or as filled with drama that would make most TV shows seem boring.

On top of that, as we sat through the first of I hope many goofy presentations by the teachers, Rose started to crack every joint in her upper body. A sure sign of anxiety. So I grabbed her hand and held it in mine, which immediately calmed her nerves. After we let go, the cracking stopped.

On the way to McDonald's we sang the song Rose is now determined to memorize: "American Pie." After a quick dinner, we got home where Rose settled right into homework and writing out thank you notes for her baptism gifts while I made brownies. She did this without prompting or arguing.

Then, she watched 20 minutes of TV to unwind before getting up without argument to brush her teeth and hop into bed.  It was so peaceful. It was so nice. It felt like a strange harmony had filled our house and family. It was just what I had imagined parenthood to be like.

RAD

Rose has been having a string of RAD days. RAD as in a day owned by Reactive Attachment Disorder. I try to not think of Rose in terms of her diagnoses but by the behaviors resulting from them and the experiences causing them.

RAD days lately mean increasing her sense of control as a result of feeling like she was attaching to us. Control for Rose means more arguing, more needing to be right all the time, less patience for listening. Today, I learned the defiance actually manifests itself in humorous ways when I am not at the receiving end of it.

After a day of trying to sleep off a sinus headache to no avail I found myself at Taekwondoe since Mike had taken the morning shift and needed to work later. (Yep, life has really changed, but I digress.) With pain seizing control of my right eye, I watched Rose perform her moves, but could see her trying to even control her instructors whom she usually respects.

At one point, when Rose had started to add on to something an instructor had was saying to the class he said to her, "I am the only one talking right now." Rose's eyes flashed and she proceeded to talk to herself under her breath but so slightly only I could see it. I wondered what she was saying to herself. Was she finishing her thought or telling the teacher off?

I know I shouldn't laugh, but it did strike me as a cute demonstration of her personality learning to conform to a few rules. If only she'd learn that at home.

Three tired kiddos

We spent a nice afternoon at our friend's house helping them cut up their fall harvest for preserving. Rose mostly played games and watched movies while our older collie, Eddie, nervously followed people around, anxious to get his herd in one spot. Moxie, the younger blonde collie, did much the same as Eddie minus the barking.

As a result, neither dog got much sleep during their nap times. Rose even wanted in on the picture action, which says a lot since the morning started off with levels of defiance we haven't seen in months. Yet, unlike months ago, she shook off her mood and we managed to carve out a decent Sunday.

A few firsts

When we didn't have Rose, I'd whine about feeling tired. I felt like I did it all the time. I'd even cancel plans occasionally.

Now, despite working full time, getting up at 4 a.m. three days a week, and having emotional battles with her that keep me awake a few times a week, I find I can plug through almost anything, even a rock concert, if it means I get a few hours to be alone with Mike or among adults.

Tomorrow Rose gets to go to her first birthday party in Minneapolis, which will be nice because most of our close friends have children a little younger. So until now she's been hanging out with people much older o rmuch younger unless she's at school or camp. She's so excited. Tomorrow we'll get the gift for her friend, and Mike and I will nervously wait to pick her up and hope it goes well.

I thought I'd end this blog with the "Times Like These" video from The Foo Fighters. The lyrics seem to fit our life right now:

"It's times like these you learn to live again.
It's times like these you give and give and give.
It's times like these you learn to love again."

Looking into The Grand Canyon

After what felt like weeks upon weeks of calm we've had a few nights of defiance. Not as bad as what we had gotten used to, but it still hurt quite a bit since we have been at peace for so long.  I am still more emotional than Mike in too many ways, so I don't respond well, I worry.

Tonight was no exception. Tensions increase, and I found myself saying loudly, almost yelling at her, "you're a human and you belong to be here." Then she screamed, "no I don't, I deserve to die. I don't know what I'm doing here." Then she cried. It felt sort of like a movie moment, but this isn't a movie. Tomorrow won't be perfect.

Rose letting herself share with us like this is a big step because it means she's letting herself feel vulnerable. It's a very scary step for me making me uncertain of how we'll help her out of the emotional void she is in.

Rose's homework

Q: What do you know a lot about?
R: Life and what it can be like.

Q: What do you love?
R: My rock awesome family.

Q: What makes you special?
R: Confedental [sic]

Warning...

Introducing the initially cute and harmless video that is now embedded in my brain, driving me crazy.

Introducing the initially cute and harmless video that was later embedded in my mom's brain, driving her crazy.

What's in it for me?

As a bit of a surprise and motivation to get up after being up a bit later yesterday following a few innings of a Twins game, I offered up breakfast out on the way to school for Rose. It got her moving immediately and she picked out McDs, not surprisingly.

After eating, she asked if she could have some/the rest of my OJ. I then asked her "what's in it for me? What do I get?" She looks at me very confused and I offer up a trade. She gives me the goofiest look she can and lets me take a picture (the most important part of course). Attached is the result after she accepted...
I think I got the best part of the deal considering how camera-shy she is and the fact that there was maybe another 2 oz. left of my OJ.

Infancy

Holy cow have Rose's behaviors regressed to a toddler-like state a lot. She longs to be held, hugged, cuddled all the time in every place. She tattles, she yells "mine", she cries when she doesn't get her way.

Now I find myself in the same quandary I did six months ago. How much of this behavior is "normal tween" and how much is a side effect of the trauma. More importantly, how do I respond to it. Especially when her behaviors fluctuate between this strange tall toddler and a pre-teen who wants to shave.

Sure, it's not a girl who is running to get a plastic bag to put over her head and for that I am grateful. I don't even know if I'm really complaining, I'm just puzzled over this new phase we've entered and how to treat it.

So simple

For Rose's baptism, people, very generous people, gave her money. So today, while I cleaned her room, Mike took her to the Science Museum and then Target to spend some of her present.

I haven't lost it. She didn't know I was going to clean her room. It was a present, too.

Anyway, she came home with some monster barbie dolls, and accessories for her DS, and bubble wrap. Yes, a whole roll of bubble wrap, just for her to pinch and step on until her heart's content.

I love her mind.

Insecurity

I must be in a venting kind of mood--three posts in one day.

I remember once growing up my sister pointed to a lady in the grocery story and said to my mom, "she's fat." My sister was barely 2--and probably the cutest little baby I've seen with her curly blonde hair, chubby cheeks, and bright blue eyes. The grown woman heard and said to my sister, "well, you're ugly."

I remember thinking--even then as a 5-year-old--that woman needed to grow up. My sister was just a kid, and a kid shouldn't rattle your self esteem like that. Plus, she made my sister cry. No one's allowed to do that, except me. Plus, she was fat, and my sister was just being honest--not realizing she'd violated a social norm.



Here it is, years later, and karma's found a way to crush my holier-than-though mentality. From time to time, Rose manages to slip in a comment that really does bruise my ego and cause hours of self doubt.

Sunday I became the fat lady. Several of us were gathered in Grandma and Grandpa Schulte's kitchen before the baptism. Rose was commenting on how my sister was obsessed with fashion, and my mom asked what I was obsessed with. Rose said, "herself. I mean, she just throws make-up on like crazy." Temporarily stung by this assessment, I felt my breath catch. I just laughed it off, trying to hide my pain and said, "I'm lucky I get make-up on at all."

Ouch and ouch. Granted the two statements seem to contradict each other. If I'm self obsessed, I'd spend hours putting make-up on.  Yet, I do take some pride in my appearance and don't think I leave the house looking like I put make-up on in the dark or with Homer Simpson's make-up gun applicator. 

At the same time, both comments hit home. Even though I knew they shouldn't. The make-up one a little less so than the self obsessed one. As I often worry I am self obsessed. They always say children are just honest obesrvers of life, so was Rose picking up on something I struggle with and putting it right in front of me?

It reminded me of one time at a work happy hour a coworker said to me "they were the one who did all the work and I was the pretty face behind the computer in meetings." I tried to laugh that one off, too, but they somehow hit on one of my bigger insecurities. In my role, I do feel sometimes disconnected from the end result and question the value I bring. How'd this person know that? They didn't, and they were probably joking, but I still haven't shaken that comment, obviously.

So how do I brush off Rose's comments? The last thing I want to do is harbor resentment toward her for something she said not realizing that it touched on a nerve. Nor do I want to respond and say mean things back. Sometimes I do tell her she has hurt my feelings to make her more aware of the impact words can have on others, but in the end, I think the better thing is to toughen up a bit--choosing my battles.  It's tough though, being all self obsessed and make-up challenged. :-)

They call me mellow yellow

Life with Rose continues to be fairly tame (knock on wood). Her post adoption, post vacation behaviors are still void of the anxiety that once plagued her. This means less defiance and less rude or mean comments. Now, she just feels kind of like an obnoxious 10-year-old--and I say that in the most kind way possible. Oddly, the extreme defiance is being replaced by more temper tantrums and fake tears that remind me a lot of a 2-year-old's behavior.

No, it's not fun for my 10-year-old to throw a tantrum because the car windows are a quarter of the way down and she wants them rolled up completely. Still, it's easier to keep my cool--in fact, it feels like I have the upper hand and she knows it, which is what causes the tantrums. I remember from adoption training that a child regressing to younger behaviors also means they're feeling more secure and allowing themselves to become vulnerable again.

Her first few days of school were rocky, to be sure. At home she was great--at school, not so much.
I had tried to befriend her teacher last week--requesting a conference about Rose. The teacher told me she wanted to get to know her kids before parents prejudiced her judgement. I didn't want to come across as a crazy helicopter mom, so I told her I understood her approach but would love to hear from her later. I waited  knowing my child wasn't just any kid. I waited for three days into the week until that same teacher emailed to ask if we could meet after all. Rose is a "special girl," she said. I felt smug for a few hours afterward.

Rose has already been sent to the principal's office twice, and she went there once to demand a new teacher. This teacher is rather strict, which I think will be the best for Rose in the long run. Right now, she's testing this teacher out, and so far, Rose is winning. We'll see.

Mentee application

I am trying to get Rose paired with a mentor who was also adopted as a child. In order to be paired, Rose had to answer three questions.

These were her answers:

In case you can't read it.

Q: Why do you want a mentor?
R: Yes

Q: Pretend you can see into the future. What will your life be like?
R: IDK [I don't know]. I don't like to talk about that type of stuff. I don't know my future, and I don't like to rush my life.

Q: Tell us about yourself.
R: No thank you.

Mike and I got a big chuckle out of these answers. My mom said I should make Rose answer the questions more politely. I agreed with her in theory, but I told her right now, we're focusing on keeping her clean and fed and doing homework. I'll worry about this later.