Into the Light

After what seems like an eternity (but was more like six or seven months), we seem to be emerging from the Tunnel of the Terrible Twos.  Sarah is finally starting to let go of her need to control everything, and there is a noticeable change in the atmosphere around here.  She is more relaxed and happy, and, therefore, so are Don and I.

Sarah still treasures her routines, but she's increasingly flexible these days.  I can push up her sleeves to wash hands.  I can hang up the wash cloth after bath.  I can put the cover on the Cheerios container.  These sound like inconsequential things, but when added up over the course of the day, they matter, believe me.

She still has her irrational moments, but they are relatively fleeting now.  We no longer live in fear of her spiraling into a fullblown meltdown.  She cries and tells us she's mad, and then she usually moves on. 

Although she's mellowed a lot, she still feels the need to control her world, and I think this is due to her personal history, not her age.  She's developed a new coping mechanism:  when she's upset about not getting her way, she often insists that I put my hair behind my ears.  I think this is a last-ditch effort to gain control.  I'm somewhat torn about how to respond to this.  Sometimes I comply, to give her comfort.  Others, I push back, telling her that she doesn't have to be in charge; Mama and Dada are and we'll take care of her.  I try to show her that she can let go and everything will be okay.  

Much of Sarah's defiance seems to have melted away, also, thank goodness.  Lately, she's concerned about Don's and my approval.  When she's misbehaving and we start to lose our patience, she'll say, "Mama/Dada mad" and often do what she's supposed to.  She then announces, "Mama/Dada happy."  This is a great relief to me.  I worried at times that her lack of regard for our feelings was an attachment issue, but I guess it was more of a toddler issue after all.

Sarah's becoming more affectionate and offers hugs and kisses (to us and her stuffed animals) more readily now.  She's always been attached to us in the non-clinical sense, wanting to be held and played with, but she hasn't been what I'd call cuddly.  I get the feeling that she has moved to a new emotional stage with us and is developing what's called "secure attachment" in adoption lingo. 

Her favorite game to play with Don these days is "Whose Baby Are You?"  He'll rough-house with her and demand, "Whose baby are you?" to which she'll respond, "Mama's baby!"  He acts indignant, shakes her up a bit, and asks again.  She keeps answering, "Mama's baby!" laughing harder and harder until finally relenting and saying, "Dada's baby!"  I had her in stitches after dinner last night, when I picked up Sophie the Cat and asked whose cat she was, to which Sophie replied, of course, "Mama's cat!"

What a Mouthful!

In the last week or so, Sarah seems to have finally turned her attention to talking.  She's saying more words and is deliberate about putting them together.  I now hear "Mama play" all day long.  On Sunday, as she and I waited in the car outside a convenience store, she observed, "Dada buy milk." -- her first sentence with a subject, verb, and object. 

Of course, just last week I was getting concerned about her language skills again and scheduled a visit from the county's Birth-to-3 program coordinator.  She's coming next week, with a speech therapist.  I'm curious now what they'll say.  I know Sarah hasn't caught up to most two-and-a-half-year-olds, but she's making strides all of a sudden. 

I wonder if it was all the social interaction she had over the holidays that spurred her speech.  Or maybe it's watching Sesame Street every morning while Mom walks on the treadmill, which we started in early December.  We were careful to keep her away from the TV until she turned two, but now I think it may be helping her. 

It's also possible that she just wasn't ready.  Sarah is careful and thoughtful about everything she does, so it wouldn't surprise me if she was just taking her time.  Whatever the reason, I'm so excited to hear more of what she has to say!

A Trip to the Eye Doctor

A few months ago, we started seeing Sarah's eyes go out of alignment at times.  I first noticed it when she played peek-a-boo around a door frame.  When she moved her head out to see, the last eye to appear would be pointing out.  It's happening more frequently, and in other situations, lately, so we brought her in for a check-up (even though Don was convinced she just had a special talent).  Since I was born with a lazy eye and have suffered with poor vision in that eye despite surgery at age 2 and wearing a patch, I wasn't going to take any chances.

I was dreading the visit, after the nightmare we experienced more than a year ago.  That time, they put drops in her eyes twice, sending her into hysteria both times.  When they wanted to do it a third time because her eyes are so dark and hard to dilate, we said, "No."  The doctor was able to get a quick look into her pupils, enough to rule out any disease, and that was it.  We were out of there.

To my immense surprise and relief, this time was completely different.  Sarah was slightly nervous about being there, but she didn't even flinch when the drops went in (as we learned on the day we became a family, she can be very brave).  We had a different doctor, who obviously is more in tune with kids than the last one, and she seemed intrigued by what he was doing.  He showed her a short video of a mechanical chicken, dog, and elephant, and she kept requesting to see it again.  She even gamely looked into the machine that measures your prescription and, with much coaxing, was able to look at the balloon long enough to get accurate readings.

While she was a model patient, the results of her exam were less than stellar.  She has intermittent exotropia, which means the muscles controlling her eyes are unequal in strength, causing them to turn out if she doesn't work at holding them straight.  If she's tired or not concentrating, they slip to the outside.  As she gets older and does more focused work with her eyes, she won't be able to override the muscles as easily, and it will happen more often.  At that point, she'll need surgery on the muscles.

The good news is that this condition doesn't usually affect the vision in the eyes, so she won't have a weak one the way I do.  The thought of surgery scares me, but, after doing some research on the Internet, I'm not as worried.  It should be outpatient and done through a small slit in the eyeball, so it's not too invasive.  Thank goodness Sarah has gotten over most of her fear of doctors.  By the time the surgery takes place, she should be even more calm.  We need to watch her, and when we notice her eyes turning one-third of the time or more, it's time to take action.

The other disappointing news is that Sarah will likely be near-sighted when she's older.  It has something to do with the depth of her eyeball.  I guess it's a certain depth now, and it will deepen as she grows, which will cause near-sightedness.  I'm almost more saddened by this news than the prospect of surgery.  I had hoped she'd avoid having to wear glasses.  I always hated mine.  It's only been in the last few years that I've felt comfortable with how I look in them.  She's such a beautiful girl that I dread seeing her face hidden behind frames.  Obviously, these are my own issues, and I won't share them with Sarah.  I also know that there are some very cute frames available these days, and she will be adorable regardless.  This is a small thing.

It's ironic that Sarah has a condition similar to one I was born with (they're two types of strabismus) and will likely be near-sighted like her father.  Because she lacks our genes, it's natural to expect her to be free from our physical imperfections.  The fact that she shares some of our weaknesses, while unfortunate, tends to reinforce our sense of family, however.  It's evidence of the invisible red thread that the Chinese believe connects those who belong together.  We were meant to be a family, flaws and all.

Christmas 2010 -- Phase II

We flew back to M*ssachusetts to visit my family very early (6:20 a.m. flight) last Wednesday.  Following some excellent advice from my fellow China moms, I dressed Sarah in footie pajamas the night before, got her up at the last minute, handed her her milk, and loaded her in the car.  She was a good sport about it and requested "Jingle Bells" on the drive to the airport.

We're lucky to live 20 minutes from a small (two gates) airport, so flying is a cinch.  Don dropped Sarah and me off at the front door with the luggage, then parked the car.  To save on what I consider unreasonable baggage fees, we'd packed one very large suitcase to check.  Imagine my disappointment when we learned that it was seven pounds overweight and would cost us $90 extra.  Sometimes it just doesn't pay to be cheap. 

The woman at the counter suggested we move some things to our carry-on bags, and we set about the task, knowing it was futile.  After about five minutes, the woman's coworker walked over, said, "That looks about right," put the baggage tag on the suitcase, and pointed us toward the security station.  I don't know if it was the cute little girl in her pajamas watching from her stroller as her parents scrambled on the floor or just Midwest hospitality that motivated him, but I was happy to hang on to my $90.

Sarah did great on the airplane and seemed to enjoy sitting in the window seat while I catered to her.  We changed planes in D*troit, and she slept most of the way to H*rtford, CT.  She was excited to see Grammy pull up to the curb to pick us up. 

Auntie Heather, Uncle Brian, and cousins Forrest, Sam, and Kelley came for a visit later that afternoon, and Sarah warmed up to them all quickly.  We were fortunate to see them every day of our stay.  Although we didn't get to spend as much time with Uncle George and his fiancee Chelsey, Sarah also enjoyed herself with them.  For the first little while whenever she's with relatives she doesn't see often (which happens to be all of them), she points, looks at Mama or Dada, and says, "Eh?" as if she can't believe they're really there.

She was much more relaxed this time than during previous visits.  It was a joy to watch her play with her cousins and give hugs and kisses to everybody.  She even happily posed for pictures, which is unusual.  She loved it when Uncle Brian kept finding coins behind her ears (as only he can do), and she was interested in whatever the boys were doing.  After Auntie Heather told her to sit on her "bum" in a chair, Sarah adopted the new term and now corrects me when I say "bottom."

On New Year's Eve, we enjoyed a lobster dinner.  Sarah didn't care to try it, but Cousin Kelley indulged a bit too much.  He wound up on the couch with a stomach ache, and Sarah appointed herself his doctor.  She tended to him with great concern until he recovered.  She's one compassionate little girl.

While she was happy and even-keeled during the day, Sarah's anxiety surfaced each evening.  Getting ready for bed was a minefield, with multiple fits about brushing teeth, taking a bath, and going potty.  It was obvious that she felt uneasy about being away from home and was struggling to be in control.  She slept fairly well at night (especially after Dada moved to the other bedroom and she got to sleep with Mama instead of in the Pack 'n Play), and she even took naps most days.

In addition to seeing my immediate family, we got to have lunch with my Uncle Bill and Jane.  I'm afraid I didn't get to talk with them as much as I'd like, since I escorted Sarah to the restroom no less than four times as a result of her drinking milk on the way there and downing a cup of apple juice within minutes of being seated.  She managed to maintain her potty-going throughout most of the trip, which I found impressive. 

I also slipped away on my own to have coffee with my best friend from high school, Lynne.  It was wonderful to see her after many years, and for the first time as fellow adoptive moms.  I wish it could happen more often!

Our return flight on Monday was also early.  When I woke Sarah, telling her it was time to go on the airplane, she sat straight up and said, "Mama home, Dada  home, Cadi Dog home, Little Bear home, Vava home...." and proceeded to list each of her stuffed animals.  She was clearly ready to go.  The trip was smooth, and when we picked up Cadi at the kennel, Sarah beamed.  She let out a hoot when she saw our house from the highway.  She loves her little world in W*sconsin.

Although she's happy to be home, Sarah has struggled a bit with the transition.  She went to bed well Monday night and was asleep within minutes, due to missing her nap.  She awoke crying once in the night and wanted me to lie with her while she went back to sleep but then waited until 6:00 (house rule) to call for me in the morning.  She started out cheery but didn't want to get dressed and ended up in a screaming fit about her milk (which hadn't even spilled -- haha) soon after leaving the bedroom.

She had a good nap yesterday but was unhappy at bedtime, maybe because Don was at a meeting and couldn't kiss her goodnight.  After calling to me in the kitchen for a while, she started to cry and asked me to lie with her.  She was asleep in about five minutes.

This morning, she slept until 6:45.  When I went in, she pointed to herself and announced, "Happy."  She then said, "Mama happy; Dada happy; Cadi Dog happy; home."  She does indeed seem more content today, so I think we're on our way back to normal.

Sarah's made great strides in dealing with different places and people, but I expect she'll always be troubled by changes in her surroundings.  The last week-and-a-half has been awfully busy, and I think she's done terrifically overall.  We're all looking forward to staying put for a while and cocooning, though.  We all love our home.

Cousin Kelley

Uncle B

Cousin Forrest

Watching TV with Sam and Kelley

Reading with Cousin Sam

Exploring the farm with Kelley

Cutting fruit with Chelsey

All smiles with Grammy

Auntie Heather ("Heshy")

Lobsters for dinner!