Warning: If you
want to hear the easy, “rainbows and unicorns” version of what it’s like to
adopt, you need to check out another blog. If you are up for hearing the raw,
unbaked version of what it’s like to be a parent of two adopted kids… read on.
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Tonight my husband and all 3 of my biological kids were gone,
each having their own set of plans. It was just me and my two adopted kiddos
left at home. Even after almost 6 years, interactions with them alone with them can be awkward or difficult
or both. I confess how easy it would have been to just set them up in
front of a movie downstairs and watch my own movie upstairs: lovely, quiet
night.
God intervened and I managed to choose an interactive and fun
activity with them:
Bake
chocolate chip cookies.
My adopted kids have never baked them before. Why? They have
been around long enough. Maybe it is the attachment relationship struggles we
have wrestled with since day one with my daughter. Or all of the mouthy-ness
and blatant defiance my son has been steeped in these last 6 months.
Frustration after frustration and I find that I don’t want to be close to them,
physically close enough to bake. I lack the patience and drive to find
intentional one on one time with them. They are so hard to be around.
Tonight we
baked.
He measured the flour and cracked an egg. She mixed in the
sugar and cracked the other egg. God,
I beg You for strength to keep my mouth shut. Despite my instructions, my
daughter ejected the beaters 3 times in a row before she figured out to push
the button forward to turn on the mixer. God,
help me to stay calm and be patient. My son
spills more flour on the counter than what is caught in the measuring cup. Uneven
scoops of dough rolled across the pan and landed on the floor.
The cookies are done. No one lied or stole. No one sassed back at
mom. No one pouted or rolled their eyes. No one sabotaged the event. We stood close together and even
giggled once. We got the job done. Together.
And I paused: thank
you God so much for this gentle and kind interaction with them! We have so few moments without a battle and argument.
This is a "God sized", huge feet for an adoptive mom who desperately wants to love
her children that reject, fight and stay at a distance from normal signs of care.
Tonight the
house is warm with love and filled with the sweet aroma of hope from the best
cookies we have ever made, together!
