To pray is to “our Father”.
Monica, in particular, is a pro with the Lord’s prayer. She CAN’T WAIT to say it before dinner. Night time is for Our Fathers of thanksgiving. As Kelly says, “thank you so much a Nicolas, a Diana, thank so much a papi y mami”. Monica rambles (often quite loudly), thanking God for her family, herself, the pool, the bed, the dog, spring, her teacher. She then likes to finish with the real Our Father.
Sometimes – I think just to check if we’re paying attention – they like to slip mean thanksgivings into their Our Fathers. As in, “thank you so much that I made Mami cry today.” On suggestion by our wise sister-in-law, we add the Amen and leave the bed when this happens. It now happens less often.
I’ve started to think of prayers as Our Fathers. I find it comforting.
* * * *
Since introducing children to our house things break down at astonishing rates. The current frustration is the bathroom sink (actually, both bathroom sinks…but at least one is partially working). Its clogged with rust, organic mush, and one unfortunate toothpaste cap.
Knowing that these projects can turn into all day events, I marked off Saturday as the day to replace part of the drain and get things cleaned out. Part of the job involved chemicals (as in Drano) and recognizing the girls propensity to touch all things (especially Kelly) I was a bit nervous.
I didn’t get very far. Saturday Monica decided to push hard to find boundaries.
It actually started Friday when, in perfect Spanish grammar, she informed me that she “no longer chose me as her Papi.”
“You don’t love me,” she pouted. “I pick a different Papi.”
Now I’ve sort of expected this at some point. But I also was a bit surprised. I mean, it’s such a cliche moment – your adopted daughter telling you that she wanted a different family. How many adoptive parents (or – heck – non-adoptive parents) have their kids say that? I didn’t get angry. In fact, I busted out laughing. Which is never a good thing to do with Monica because that tends to irritate her more than getting angry.
Anyway, Saturday was rough. Probably the roughest I’ve had since getting the girls. Since that day I’ve a number of friends assure me that the behavior I dealt with can be pretty normal for a 5 or 6 year old. But still, I think it’s different with adoptive kids. With adoptive kidos you’re dealing with children who’ve already had a world of hurt dished out to them. That parent/child bond of trust isn’t immediately there (even if it’s developing at a good rate). You want to be careful, yet firm, loving but not a pushover. You need to think in a split second about actions and reactions.
And, well, it’s hard. It’s scary.
After 7 or so volcanic meltdowns we came to find out that Monica missed her foster family. These girls don’t have the vocabulary – in Spanish or English – to describe what their feeling. It’s part of the Sherlock Holmes aspect of parenting. Why the behavior? Because her foster mom – someone who had been there for her for the past 2 years – was missed. That didn’t excuse the meltdowns. But explained them.
So now it’s Thursday. I still haven’t gotten the sink fixed. But we’ve lived a lot of life.
* * * *
Before falling asleep that Saturday night Monica went for one more fight. I brought her into the guest room, which that day effectively served as a padded safe room, and embraced her, waiting for her to calm down.
She struggled and went to bite me. Just as I went to restrain her arms she suddenly stopped and looked at me full in the eyes.
“Papi,” she said. “Our Father?”
My God, she wanted to pray? Where did this come from?
I quickly nodded. “Yeah Monica, let’s Our Father.” And we did, her following my lead as went through the rhythm.
“Monica,” I said after the prayer. “Let’s make this our key. When we’re angry and we have to come to this room for a consequence, let’s always make it so that we can stop and say Our Father.”
She melted into a hug and said “OK Papi”
I think part of being a father makes you sentimental. Part of being a Christian makes you tremble – particularly as you get an idea of sacrifice and love. That night, after putting her to sleep, I cried a bit. I was humbled, hurt, a little freaked out, and worried.
But I found new value in saying Our Father.
6 replies on “our father”
Cry out to the Lord and he will say: “I am here”! Our Father…….he is with you no matter how hard the struggle. Aren’t you glad when you don’t have the words he can hear the beat of your heart? I know you wish you could hear the beat of the hearts of each little girl. It must be so hard for them not to be able to say what they are feeling. I see this in preschool a lot especially with the kids that struggle with their speech. Once they start speech – the classroom battles lessen. I wonder if homesickness sets in at a certain time period for adopted children? Sort of like when you were an exchange student? DId they give yourotary give you a timeline for this, and let you know that it would happen and here is how to deal with it? Just trying to put some perspecitve that might help you relate to what they might be going through.
Boy, that last bit is messy – Did rotary give you a time line for when you would start to experience being really homesick? Did they give you some strategies for how to overcome that desire to leave and go home?
I can see from the girl’s perspective, “This is a nice vacation, but I think it’s time to go home.” AND YES, the difficult side of this is how to love them, allow them to have these feelings, but not allow them to throw tantrums. As always praying!
Whenever I am moved spiritually I have goosebumps-as I do now. You and Ren are using insight and wisdom combined with individual experiences to come along side of them and nurture them well. Your parenting must feel somedays like being blindfolded, other days like your hands are constrained behind your back. Some of your days must seem like you are waking from a deep stupor and just can’t figure out how to orient to this awakening, these strange,blurry new roles. You are blessed. You are challenged. You are:parents! To ‘our Father’ belongs the kingdom(Regency), the Power, and the Glory forever- yet He shares these with His Royal Heirs. Thanks be.
Wow… We are still praying for you and the girls. Thank you so much for sharing your story.
How amazing that when Monica needs comfort… and a break she has found it in your family prayer time.
Zach,
I was really moved by the “Our Father” time! I bet most parents are still praying it daily for their children whether dealing with small ones at home of big ones all grown up. One never stops praying for them. You and Ren are doing an awesome job! Hang in there!!! Sorry we won’t see you when you are here in Holland. We are doing vacation with all the kids(and grandbaby!for our 35th anniversary. Hope you have a blessed time with all of your family.
Zach, I really enjoy reading yours and Renee’s blog entrys about your girls. Parenting is a wild ride and I see that you are both having the time of your lives! I pray for your family all the time! Just thought I’d share with you a quick story. Maybe you will get a chuckle out of it and know that we are faced with some strange parenting circumstances too! I was fed up with Marshall a few months ago. Just completely fed up with him one particular morning. He was being such a stinker. I finally just told him to go to his room and I would be there in a minute to let him know what his consequence was going to be for his behavior. When I went in his room I found him whispering in his pillow. I knew instantly that he was praying because I’ve caught Mason whispering in his pillow before and he told me he was praying. So I was ready for a tender parenting moment about prayer, thinking maybe Marshall had seen the error of his ways and was possibly just praying that his consequence wouldn’t be too severe. I gently sat down next to Marshall, rubbed his back, and asked him what he was praying about. He said, and I quote… “I was praying that Cruella De vil would come and take you away so that I do not have to have a consequence.” Yeah, Cruella De Vil. Not only does he want someone to come and take me away, he wants an evil villan to do it!! We had watched 101 dalmations a few days earlier. I still laugh about it today. I didn’t even know what to say,.. I think I just left the room…. not sure if I was going to laugh or cry. I think I did both! Hang in there, you are both awesome parents 🙂