Mt. Mitchell

C and I traveled to the highest point in the East this weekend on a Scout trip to Mt. Mitchell.  We went to the campsite at the base of the mtn on Sat morning, thereby avoiding 3 inches of rain that fell there on Friday night.  The two families who arrived Friday moved the picnic tables from the pavilion and set up their tents there to stay dry.  It rained Sat too--fortunately just after we hopped in our cars to drive to Mt. Mitchell.  Though we were at the base, and there is a 5.6 mile hiking trail to the peak, it is about a 30 mile car trip:  10 miles away from the mtn to the Blue Ridge Parkway, then a 20 mile arc back to the mtn.  Even when the deluge stopped as we drove, we could see the storm clouds clinging to the top of the mtn.  But by the time we arrived, it had stopped raining there.  We still couldn't see much from the observation deck as the view was mostly obscured by clouds in three directions.  We ate lunch at the top then went on a 1 mile hike to a "waterfall".  The trail was badly eroded and was mostly wet rocks and wet roots, so it was a rather treacherous walk.  The boys did really well and didn't even complain during the steep hike back.  The boys got into a discussion of episodes 7, 8, and 9 of Star Wars which will be filmed by Disney.  (First, it's pretty amazing that the movies that defined the childhoods of the adult leaders are followed as closely a generation later.)  One boy observed that "In all Disney movies, the animals sing.  I don't think I'd like that in Star Wars."  No, as good as Disney musicals are, singing space creatures would certainly doom a Star Wars movie.  We walked to the "falls" and the boys took of their shoes and walked around in the water.  C and three (of the four) others of course fell in the freezing water but didn't seem to mind.  One boy, after climbing out of the water, said "Aww, my peanuts are wet."  He said it quickly so the adults heard another P-word.  Then he reached in his pocket and pulled out a bag of trail mix.  The adults immediately broke out in hysterical laughter and the boys just looked bewildered at us.  Upon reaching the top of the mountain, and the end of the hike, the rain began again.  Our timing was perfect yet again.  Once we were back at camp, by which time the rain had stopped, the boys played with each other and kept occupied nicely.  In the evening, they went to look for a fishing spot in the creek.  The weather had cleared and we could see blue sky above but it was still misty along the creek.  C enjoyed trying to skip stones in the creek--with all the rain this summer, there was plenty of rushing water.  I had the task of finding round, flat rocks for C and a friend.  He had a good sleep last night and was raring to go at 7 am regardless of my warning that it was warmer in the sleeping bag (no sleeping in for dad!).  He slept on the drive home!

E's news is that we reconfigured her bed to a toddler bed.  She started climbing out of her crib this week, so the time had come.  Now we have lost the incentive that we would move her to a toddler bed if she went to sleep, etc.  Oh well.  She's now a big girl.  Up next--a potty trained big girl!  The humorous note for E is that she's picked up an Alison Janney line from "Hairspray" (originally from Mommy Dearest) and calls C, M or a doll "Devil Child, Devil Child" and shakes her finger at them when they violate her preferences.

M has finally agreed to try gymnastics so T will take her to her first class tomorrow.  Given her flexibility and strength, she should be really good at it.  Here's hoping she has the patience and discipline it keep at it.

Undercurrents and Rip Tides

Adoption begins with a loss...

It doesn't matter how an adoptive family is created. The story begins with a loss. In preparation for the adoption, we learn our child's sense of grief and loss can ebb and flow. This ebb and flow reminds me of an ocean's undercurrent. It's always present, sometimes gently moving the grains of sand gently to and fro. Other times, the grief and loss can become a voracious rip tide or tsunami wave.

Tonight, C experienced his first rip current...

Earlier in the evening, the family (including Oma and Opa) were playing croquet. All seemed well. C was enjoying himself. Toward the end of the second game, C became upset with a play that he thought had not occurred. Being C (and drawing close to bedtime), he made choices that indicated an increasing level of frustration. As E and I worked to help him get ready for bed (and to de-escalate), he began hyperventilating.

With him being placed on my lap, I began trying to help him slow his breathing and calm down. As his breathing slowed, the sobs began increasing. So, I asked what he was thinking about. "Dinah," he replied.

Dinah was one of our two cats we had been placed with last September (after the death of our 16 yr old cat Bella). Recently, my asthma exacerbated, so my allergist suggested I undergo allergy testing. Among my multiple allergies, I discovered I was allergic to cats. Therefore, we had to relinquish the cats. This, as you can imagine, was tough for C. However, Mommy needs to breathe, since my lungs are only functioning at 70% of their capacity.

Back to tonight...

As we sat together, C worked through his sobs and asked if Dinah and Felicia were going to another family. I looked at him and said, "Since they can't be with us, I hope they can be placed with another family who will love them just as much as we do." With tears in his eyes, he asked if that's what happened to him.

(Insert Mommy inhale and exhale)

Since we know some information about C's birth mother, I answered as honestly as I could. I told him that, yes, his birth mommy was unable to care for him. Yes, she wanted him to be with a family who would care for him and give him the love he deserved.

After a few more words, I continued sitting by his side. I held his hand as he sobbed, slowed to a cry, and began slowly falling asleep. Before he fell asleep, I laid my head on his and whispered, "You're my favorite C in the whole world and I'll never stop loving you. I love you forever and ever and always."

My heart is heavy. I will never truly and fully replace the love my children would experience had life circumstances given them the opportunity to remain with their birth parent(s). Since this journey we call life gave us the opportunity to be united as a family, I will do my best to love my children fully and unconditionally, giving them the love they need, in the way that love is needed. I will be there for their laughter and happiness, when their faces beam more brightly than the sun. I will be there for their undercurrent moments. And, most importantly, I will be there when the rip tide or tsunami wave threatens to pull them under.