On the move

[This is Stephen writing tonight.]  Since I know that Charlie will continue to adapt & learn at a rapid pace, I want to capture and share a few light-hearted quotes and some meatier thoughts from the adventures and challenges of this week.  Before the trip, many people asked me the obvious question:  if he doesn’t speak English, how will you communicate?  And my typical answer was “I’m confident that he will learn English 1000 times faster than I could learn Chinese.”  I do use a few key phrases with him, and pepper in the occasional google translate [when we have access], but he is learning really quickly.  And he doesn’t actually seem as frustrated with us as I thought he might that we just don’t understand what he says 90% of the time.  [The other 10% is when he repeats “where are we going?” or “what is it?”] 

His English skills still provide daily moments of comedy, and for some reason, it often reminds me of Johnny 5 from the legendary film Short Circuit.  I haven’t seen the film in decades, and I would bet that it’s one of those movies that is better left as a memory [unless you’re a big-time Steve Guttenberg fan].  Any time you mention the word “sunshine,” Charlie launches into singing “you are my sunshine,” which of course is priceless and endearing.  We’ve been reading “Brown Bear, Brown Bear, what do you see?” with him, so if I ask “Charlie, do you see the bus?” he will respond “what do you see?  I see a panda bear.”  When he doesn’t understand us, sometime he just guesses with a response [which I’ve done in Spanish as well, and also generated some laughter for the native speakers.]  Dawn told him “you have some short little toes, my friend” to which Charlie politely said “tank you, mama.”   I told one of the kids “we’ll be there in 30 minutes” and Charlie picked up on 30, and then segued to his favorite game, Bop It, and quoted the game’s voice:  “High score:  Thirty-two!”  If we’re walking and I say “step up” to alert him to an upcoming curb, he’ll often mimic the elevator voice with “going up!”   

When I’ve traveled abroad, it’s always fun and natural to observe some cultural differences, and it’s also been interesting and entertaining to see what Sam & Kate pick up on.  Sam and I always share a laugh with the raucous chorus of throat-clearing and spitting, especially in the restroom.  He loved the randomness of hearing “O Christmas Tree” and “Jingle Bells” while walking the streets in Zhengzhou.  “Dad, first of all, it’s July, and second of all, do they even celebrate Christmas here?”  I’ve been impressed with Kenny G’s staying power over here [or is it a comeback?], as I’ve heard at least 3 tracks from his Breathless album in airplanes, hotels & restaurants.  [And yes, I realize that means that I know the artist and specific album.]  I’ve also been surprised and impressed to hear some Usher and even Outkast in a mall in Zhengzhou, so when a Chinese person asks me where I’m from, I’m going to stop saying “Atlanta, with the Olympics in 1996” and start saying “ATL, home of Usher, Big Boi, and Andre 3000.”  

As we walk through the city and navigate the maze of motorcycles, scooters, people, & cars, I routinely forget whose hand I’m holding.  I say “step up” or give a firm tug to steer clear of an obstacle, and then look over and realize it’s Sam.  “Sorry Sam, I forget which of my kids is visually impaired.”  “It’s really ok, Dad.  No problem.”  Or with Kate on the flight yesterday to Guangzhou, I say “can you see those cool clouds over there?” and she coolly responds “yeah, that one looks like the Jefferson Memorial” [which it did], and then proceeds to explain the intricacies of the water cycle and cloud formation to me. 

One of the interesting decisions in parenting with Charlie is how much to impose safety & protection.  He refuses to hold my hand probably about 40% of the time I try, which is better than I expected and not discouraging.  But he has banged his forehead and nose into handrails, armrests, etc a few times each day because he just has very low vision.  I obviously don’t want him to get hurt, but I also don’t want to force the hand-holding too often and push him away.  I’m really grateful that he grew up in a foster home that supports and promotes active, adventurous lives for blind people.  I’d prefer for my blind child to be confident and independent versus living safely in a bubble, and I’m convinced he wouldn’t be nearly so confident if he had grown up in a different environment.  We certainly plan to teach him cane skills so he can be both independent and safe, but until then, it’s a balancing act to build connection & trust, and to comfort him when he does slam into something.  He’s a pretty tough kid, in several ways, and also a very sweet boy.  He tripped over my foot, and then walked back over to rub my leg, and say “sorry ba-ba.”  If I were him, I probably would’ve piped up with “hey, move the foot!  Can’t you see that I’m visually impaired?”

A related challenge is in remembering which principles to prioritize with him.  The teacher & coach in me wants him to learn English, learn Braille, learn table manners, learn how to swim, how to play piano on the iPad, how to stretch his attention span [and stretch his bladder].  And let’s knock those out this week, please.  But I believe the first priority is to connect with him emotionally, and make sure he feels safe and loved.  So the challenge is having the discipline and patience to stay focused on that goal, when it often means postponing the other goals and “violating” many of the rules we’ve built up over time with our other 2 kids.  When I was working on a few English words with him today, he calmly said “no teacher, ba-ba.  No teacher.” 

We’ve read a fair amount about parenting kids from foster homes and orphanages, and we expected many of the challenging or peculiar behaviors.  I should be clear to say that he’s doing very well most of the time, and demonstrating many positive behaviors that I didn’t expect this soon or this frequent.  He’s a charming little guy, and I just need to constantly reset my perspective when I grow weary of his high-octane, all-the-way-turnt-up pace.  And how can you not love a kid who vacuums the carpet with a hair dryer?  

Dr Karyn Purvis is a well-known author in these areas, so I’ll borrow 2 quotes to illustrate the perspective I’m talking about:

 “Certainly, your children may exhibit manipulative or assertive behavior, but instead of faulting them for it, respect that it enabled them to survive and cope in profoundly difficult circumstances.”  It makes sense to me that a child who has gone through what Charlie has endured in his life and even the upheaval of the past 8 days would be trying to find his footing.  I just need to convert that logic & compassion into more patience & stamina. 

“At-risk adopted children may appear to be a certain age physically, but inside they are playing catch-up – emotionally, behaviorally, and developmentally.”  So yes, it makes perfect sense that he’s going to act a bit different than your “typical” all-American 7 year old who lived with his biological parents since birth.  He may be playing catch-up for a while, but with his zest for life, his charisma and laugh, his desire to share, and his adventurous spirit, I see a very bright future for this young man.