I have spent the last three and a half hours going through all of the adoption receipts and papers completing an 'expense sheet.' This was the dreaded job. I knew that it would take a long time and the results would be quite high. I was right on both counts...
It would be easy to fixate on the 'facts and figures' and forget about the God who makes facts and figures look like child's play.
She is standing beside me at the computer, looking over my shoulder. She is beautiful. She has sparkly hair extensions that shimmer in the light ( a little festive mommy and me activity that we did before Christmas.) She has grown into a solid size seven pants, the ones she chose to wear sporting flowers down the leg. To top it off, she is wearing a county fair sweatshirt that shows her favorite animals.
She looks good.
She looks happy.
That is my goal. She has been entrusted to my care in order that I (and Bart) can bring some order and bonds into her life. She is my princess.
Not every day is easy. She does not realize that she has virtually no relational skills. She functions on a level that expects everything but does not give. Yet, I see things changing. She is beginning to look at her surroundings and the people in them a little more. She is showing a marked improvement in her actions and reactions (when she is not tired, hungry or bored...)
She loves to be doted on. If she feels loved...she acts better. This is a trap at times though because her expectations are not realistic so failure is almost a definite for the person on the other end. The hardest thing for me to learn and understand is how to parent in a way that creates health and growth. That is not always giving and doing for her. She is learning to turn on the light by herself and put away the dishes. If you could witness her completing these activities, you would be certain that I was running a child labor camp...She is so dramatic. Yet, she is learning and growing daily.
She is standing next to me loudly proclaiming, "I am hungry. I want mac-n-oni, carreets and apple sausage." I have to laugh. Her language is coming along well and I am happy to oblige her 'supper' needs. This is so much better than charades for everything.
As she walks by her dad (whom she still calls Ba,) she laughs and says, "Boom, shacka-lacka..."
I wonder what that is all about?
Again, I find myself laughing at her as I pull the price sticker from her new book off and nonchalantly stick it to her back...
The journey...incredible. The money...?