School Days

The lazy days of the Thanksgiving holiday ended this week and we all settled into our routine of school, extracurricular activities, and homework. In a perfect world, I would have many hours to devote to Adolf’s education at home. I imagined us sitting at the dining table happily engaged in lessons and unit studies on a variety of topics. I was a teacher before I became a stay-at-home mom and was very optimistic about the amount of time I could devote to Adolf’s education.  As the week progressed, I realized quickly that I would not be able to devote as much time to his education as I planned. In addition, he saw my eldest son, Hunter, leave every morning for his kindergarten class and he quickly became depressed and a bit withdrawn. Even when I was working with him on the workbooks and school materials at home, I could tell he wanted more. My husband and I discussed enrolling him in the local public school and agreed that we would give it a try.  My original thought was, “It will be too difficult. He won’t understand anything and academically he is so far behind his peers.” I realized that his entire life has been difficult, and that has not stopped Adolf from accomplishing anything. If he can survive for four years on the streets of Uganda with badly disfigured and unusable legs, he can handle fourth grade in the suburbs. I registered him as a student and discussed with the principal his unique situation. She was happy to welcome him to the school and give him services I could not possibly do on my own. He has a few more steps before he can officially enroll with regards to immunizations and medical exams, but we are very close and he is so happy! We went to Target today and bought him some school supplies, backpack, and lunchbox. He is so proud of it and keeps counting down the days until he gets to go to school. Inside, I am still nervous about it. He will be so different than his classmates and it pains me to think of anyone laughing at the way he walks, talks, or behaves. He has had to endure so much in his short life that I want him only to feel happiness and contentment.

Adolf is all smiles as he poses with his new backpack.

This past week, we had another visit by a newspaper reporter. She was intrigued by Adolf’s story of survival and the people that have stepped in to help. During the questioning, she asked Adolf (through his interpreter, Eva) about the four years he spent alone on the streets. I looked over at him as he was sitting in my warm comfortable house, with clean clothes, and a full belly putting puzzles together with my son, Hunter, and his body language said everything to me. He took a long time before responding to the questions and eventually did with short one or two word responses. Then he left and walked back to the playroom to gather more puzzles. When he returned, the reporter turned her questions from Adolf to Eva. Later on in the day, I was upstairs folding laundry and Adolf climbed into my lap, buried his head into my chest and wrapped his arms around me very tightly. I put down the clothes I was folding and immediately wrapped my arms around him. It took every ounce of my strength not to cry uncontrollably as I held him. I knew he needed me to be strong. We sat that way for a long time, just holding each other. I wanted to jump into his heart and take away all the terrible pain he has suffered. I wanted him to know and feel that he is safe now and as long as I am breathing, no one will hurt him that way again. Nothing else mattered to me at that moment: the chores still undone, errands to be completed, or dinner that needed preparing. I wanted to hold him forever. My only hope is that he felt the love and hope we have for him and his life. That night as I was tucking him in bed he gave me another hug and said (for the first time), “I love mommy.” I responded, “I love you, too.” Then I went into my room, buried my head in my pillow and cried. I cried for all the pain he has endured yet is still able to love. I cried for all the other children that have suffered abuse at the hands of those who are supposed to care for them. Even now I have tears as I remember those precious moments.

Putting together puzzles.

My boys working together.

Below are pictures of some of things we have been doing this week. I feel like I want to share everything with him all at once, which has kept us all very busy. He is so excited about the little things in life and it is so fun to share life with someone that exudes happiness. My four children have really benefited from his joyful disposition. They love teaching him new words and showing him new things. I am very proud of them and how they have showed incredible compassion during this process. 

Eva learned to bake chocolate chip cookies from scratch.

Christmas crafts around our kitchen table.

Adolf' working on his Gingerbread Man craft.

Kelly working on her Gingerbread Girl craft.

Our first fire of the year in our fireplace. After we lit the fire, Eva was studying it and said, "Where do you put the cooking pot?" I replied, "We don't use our fires for cooking. We cook in the kitchen." Then she said, "Are they only for warmth?" I replied, "Well....sometimes, but we mostly use our central heater for warmth." She said, "What is the purpose of your fire?" I said, "For decoration." She started laughing and thought it was very funny we would have a fire as a decoration. It was definitely a moment of cultural differences, and I am glad we both got a laugh out of it.

We took Adolf to the mall for a new pair of shoes. The sales lady, pictured, LOVED Adolf and his smile. He also got his first balloon and he learned on the way home, not to roll your window down if you have a balloon! "Mommy! Balloon bye-bye!"

No trip to the mall is complete without a stop at the food court. He ordered a lot of food, but we ended up taking some home.