A Thanksgiving Valentine

8-year-old G hates writing homework.  And when I read the assignment to her - a Thanksgiving letter to someone special - she groans "UUUHHggghhh, why, why, why? This is stupid, I hate writing, and who am I supposed to write it to, HUH?"

Suppressing the urge to shout "HOW ABOUT YOUR MOTHER, HUH??"  I calmly suggest people in her family, like grandparents, aunts or uncles, or people who have helped her, like teachers or doctors.  Impatiently, she interrupts: "I know who I'm going to do, give me a pencil, get out of my way."  When I ask who she's decided upon, she says "R" - her 3-year old sister.  I pause. 

"It needs to be a NICE letter," I say.

"OMG, I know that, Mom!  Leave me alone!" she elbows me aside. 

"You need THREE sentences about why she is special to you." I remind her. 

"Gah!  You're so annoying!  Let me do this!" she shouts. 

I am doubtful.  It is wild kingdom in our house most of the time.  Lord of the Flies.  Each girl believes the other is the obstacle to her ruling the universe, and they fight like world domination is on the line for everything, all the time.  What is this letter going to say?

G scribbles madly, intently.  For a kid with ADHD who usually needs prompts, she is completely self-directed and focused.  "There!" she declares, handing me her paper with a flourish.  And here it is:

November 18th, 2009

Dear R,
You helped me wen I brock my arm. 
You are so kind to me. 
You are so frgiving and loubl. 
I love you.  You are the best sitr I will evr have.  Love, G

My eyes are full of tears.  "What is loubl, G - do you mean lovable?  Or loyal?" 

"I mean loubl, Mom." G pronounces it Loyable.

FIVE reasons, and a new word coined just for R.  Best homework assignment ever.

Happy Thanksgiving, from our wild kingdom to yours!

Family Ties (or, Who Loves Ya, Baby - reprise)

"I WANT A NEW FAMILY!" 

3-year-old R's wail is the exclamation point to our family feuds these days.  If "NOBODY LOVES ME!" (http://upside-down-patty.blogspot.com/2009/10/who-loves-ya-baby.html) doesn't hit home, "I WANT A NEW FAMILY!" does.  No matter how dramatic she's being, no matter how intellectually I know everyone feels this way sometimes, a piece of my heart stops.  Perhaps it's because in the moment, when both kids have lost it, and Mom and Dad are wondering if they ever had it, R speaks for all of us, caught in a perfect storm of temper fits and not knowing how to get out.  More likely, it's because in a family formed by adoption, where birth parents and foster families, for-now families and forever families are part of us, the wish for a different family somehow cuts differently. 

In the moment, we stick to our guns: "OK, but you're still doing a time-out for throwing straws all over the kitchen and hitting your sister."  But later, before bed, I move to reassure.

Mom:  "R, even when this family is angry and nutty, we still love each other.  We are still your forever family."

R:  "Even when we're angry and nutty, you would be sad if I went to a new family?"

Mom: "Oh yes"

R:  "You would cry?"

Mom:  "I would cry and cry, and never stop.  Not until you came back home."

R:  "I could bizit (visit)."

Mom:  "You mean you could bizit another family and then come home to me?"

R:  "Yes."

Mom:  "That would be okay.  As long as you came home."

R:  "Um...I think you better bring me.  'Cause I too little to go by myself."

And with that, it's cuddles and kisses and giggles and tickles - and my heart starts again.