A Different Kind of Love

This is the first time I have been alone since Finn left.  The bonus daughter is at dinner with her biological mother (biomom), The Brit is still at work, and my sisters have just departed with my nieces and nephews.  It's just me.

I am supposed to be at the grocery store.  I haven't been in awhile.  The bonus kid has Skittles for dinner last night.  And for breakfast this morning. The Brit commented that he noticed that his sandwich was made from two heels turned around.  "Like I wouldn't notice," he says.  He didn't notice the chunks that were missing from the fuzzy green stuff I picked off.  "Why does it taste like penicillin?"

"Must be that light Mayo, babe."

When my niece Emma was born, we had a special bond.  I was there to cut her cord (my brother-in-law was not excited about that part) and ever since then, I have loved her more than I have ever loved a person.  It scared me sometimes.  Then came my nephew, Mark.  Then came Belle and then my bonus daughter (I got her when she was 6), and most recently Ollie.  I love them all differently.  And differently than I love my husband, my sisters, or my parents, or Dani.

And then came Finn.

This is day 3 without him. If I had posted this at 9 this morning it would have been day 1 without tears.  But it is 5:22.  So the count starts over.

The normal things we do are never very normal, but having a missing link in our entourage is heartbreaking.  Today we went to the zoo and then to El Nopal. Two places he has been and would have been today. When we got home, and I went to throw stuff in Lily's room, I expected Finn to come bursting out of his bedroom.

He did not.

We still text and he sends pictures, but it is not the same.

I never believed my mom when she told me she loved each kid differently, but it's true.  One of those horrible things you don't understand until you have kids of your own.  Bella (she's 4) said today she didn't want to have children.  Her mom told her that was ok, Kiki didn't have children.  "But you do have kids," my bonus daughter says.

I do.

And now I understand.  You love them all differently.  Not more.  Not less.  I don't always get it back (Belle is weird, Lily is awkward and Finn is a teenager), but I always tell them, every chance I get.

I love you.

My Dearest Finn,

If someone would have told me how hard this would be, the leaving part, the saying goodbye, if the ghost of host students future could have taken me to this moment, I am not sure I could have done it.  This may be the hardest thing I have ever done in my whole 30 years (saying goodbye to you has passed up the 30 day detox and that 16 miles hike in the mountains).

But maybe I would.  Maybe the wonderful memories we have made together as a family, both big and small, would overshadow the heartbreak of having to give you back.  Babsi, thank you for letting us borrow him; he has changed our lives forever.

Thank you, Finn, for trying to teach me responsibility, for patting my shoulder when I cry, and for pretending you aren't scared when I drive the car in reverse. On the highway. Thank you for making me laugh, for forgiving me when I screwed up, and for promising never to forget us. Thank you for allowing this family to love you, to take care of you, and to learn from you.

I will miss you sitting at the counter. I will miss you sleeping in the car on road trips.  I will miss you playing tag in the house with Lily and always giving the kids whatever they want.  I will miss my alarm clock, my voice of reason, My storm cloud in the morning, my sunshine each day, my moon and stars at night.

We will see you and your family next summer.  We will skype.  We will keep in touch.  You have changed our lives, Finn Finneous Korn, and we will forever be grateful.  We love you.

-The Hutchinsons, Graces, Delaneys, and Weyers

Steps 8 & 9: Just in time for mother's day

Ok, I realize mother's day was actually like 3 weeks ago.  But that's when I intended on writing this...

Steps 8 & 9 of the 12 step program ask participants to identify and then make amends to those you have wronged (I am not currently in this program, but I did Google it.)

So, here is a list of people who I have wronged, in honor of mother's day, which I never would have realized I had wronged had a not become a host mom:

My mother: I am so sorry I complained about dinner.  I didn't realize how ridiculous it was that we had to be fed every night.  I mean really, there are countries where children do not eat dinner EVERY SINGLE NIGHT.  It is almost too much to ask of a person.  I am sorry I complained about what you fixed and didn't understand why you hated the sight of a kitchen.  I understand now, and I am sorry.

My sister, Amber: I am sorry I thought your children were perfect.  I realize now that having one around all the times makes them instantly less adorable and their idiosyncrasies less tolerable.  I am sorry.

My sister, Sarah: I am sorry I judged you every time you were late.  To every thing.  Every where.  I would judge you as you walked into church, birthday parties, funerals, dragging your children and husband behind you.  I understand now.  And I am late. To everything.  Having a husband and children is really something that is too much to ask of a person.  One or the other.

The parents of the students I taught: I am sorry when I judged you when your kids' homework wasn't finished.  I realize now there ARE more important things to life than English assignments.

The parents of the kids I coached:  Sorry I judged you and called you names behind your backs when you kids were late, missed practice or forgot pieces of their uniform.  You really can't control everything.  I know.  I tried.

My host son's mother: I am sorry you had to be without him for so long.  We will all miss him when he is gone.  I cannot imagine what is must be like for you, watching him grow these last several months through pictures (sorry, I am behind on those, too! see apology "My Sister, Sarah") and over Skype.  You are truly a hero, and have been such a support for me.

Whew!  That feels so good.  Oh, I should probably do a few more:

To my bestie: I am sorry I have been out of touch.  Even though we text everyday, I know it is not the same.  This summer, we reconnect.

To Jack: I am sorry you, too, know the trials of being a bonus mom.  They will never appreciate us until we are old and probably dead.  But maybe one day they will steps 8 & 9 us.

To Finn: I am sorry you are more responsible than I am. I am sorry I almost make you late everyday.  And I am sorry you have to each popcorn chicken and french fries so much.

For mother's day this year (or maybe you save this one for next year.  I don't really know what the expiration date is on mother's day gifts.  I know with wedding thank-yous, you have a year.  Should probably consult Martha Stewart on this one) tell her and the other mother's in your life you are sorry for being a judgmental little brat.

Talks of home

I can remember when he walked off the plane.  He was smaller than he is now, though perhaps imperceptibly.  He was so quiet.  How much he has changed.  Slightly taller, I think.  Larger shoe size.  Not so quiet now.  There are talks of going home.  Plans have changed and I am not allowed to say when, but we will be losing him.  It's amazing how much he has become part of our family.  From soccer to track, my sisters and parents follow him as if he were their own.  Even in the rain.

I have not written in a while.  Partly because I do not make time (see my blog post about being "busy".  And yes, the view from atop my high horse is fantastic), partly because the last time I posted the host kid and I got in a fight.  He says I do not tell things truthfully.  He is wrong.  I tell them exactly how I remember them; it just might not be that I remember them exactly how they happened.

That's why I started this blog.  To remember.  I wanted to be able to look back and experience all over again the feelings, events, hardships and triumphs of partially adopting a teenager.  I got much more than I bargained for.  But every time I sat down to write, I was afraid of not writing the truth.  It's kind of the same reason I have not blogged on my teacher blog in a while.  Afraid of failure.

But I am a trigger-puller.  I make decisions fast and finally.  So even though I am supposed to be working, I decided to sit down and write.  I was on the phone with my mother, getting advice about an upcoming interview, and we were trying to schedule track meets and soccer games and things we still want to do with Finn while he is here (Huber's, Claudia Sanders, there was another but I can't remember, hopefully she wrote it down.)  We started talking about the time we have left.

Don't let me fool you; part of me wants my life back, the life before the teenager (but the brochure I got from the exchange program said that was totally normal to feel that way.)  But a bigger part of me wonders what we will do without him.

I will not tell him I blogged today, but he will find it.  And when he does I hope he knows how much he has changed our lives forever.  He and his family.  Our family has grown and will never be the same.

Angry and

My therapist says that there is always another emotion present when you feel anger.  You are never just angry; you are angry AND.  Angry and disappointed. Angry and frustrated.  Angry and sad.

"Are you angry with me?"  My host son asks this question.  Not frequently, but enough.  Probably because I am extremely excitable and overly emotional.

"No," I answer. I don't know if I was lying.  I lie so much (see previous posts) that I don't even stop to think about whether or not I am telling the truth.  My brain is just trained to come up with the best answer.

"Have you ever been angry with me?"  That's the thing about this kid; he's too smart.  It's always easier to deal with people (and children) who are not as smart.  But he is smart.

He wanted an honest answer, so I stopped to think.  There are a lot of emotions that swirl around when I think about the past eight weeks, but anger was not one of them.  Fear, anxiety, disappointment, but not anger.

I have been angry with The Brit.  Angry and disappointed, angry and sad, angry and hurt.  I do not know why on God's green earth people would ever, ever, EVER have a baby to save a marriage. Children are hard on a marriage.  The Brit and I always argue more when Lily is with us.

Once Finn got here and was here all the time, every day, not just on the weekends and holidays, the Brit and I fought A LOT.  But this constant state of parenting, as opposed to the weekend parent I have become, helped me realize it was because we were raised differently and have much different relationships with our parents.  Of course that will cause problems when making decisions for and regarding children.  Also, he forgot momentarily that I am always right.

But we worked it out, and are better people having learned from it.

I asked Finn today how long he had been here. "Two months and two weeks.  It is halftime." I was off by a couple weeks.

I can't believe it's half over. We have a lot more memories to make.  The Hutchinson-Host Kid clan is just getting started.

(My sister says I need my edit my blog, no thank you.  The host kid said the last blog post was full of lies, duh.  #fulldisclosure)

A Culture of Differences: Our First Fight

This actually happened several weeks ago.  Or at least it seems.  At first I didn't write because it was fresh.  Then because I got busy.  Then because I forgot.  Lucky for me (and Finn) I leave Post-Its all over.

Kids are way more forgiving than adults.  This is a lesson I learned going from teaching students to teaching teachers.  Kids may get angry or upset over little things (my 2 year old nephew got mad at me because HE headbutted ME.  But he sure got over it quickly), but they can easily forgive (especially when candy is involved) and move on.

I realize that different cultures view time differently.  There are cultures who believe all times are suggestions.  Then there are cultures that believe if you are on time, you are late.

My family and I fall in the middle. And by the middle I mean on-time is a Unicorn that we know exists, even if we haven't experienced it.

The title incident happened one Saturday.  (I really think at this point he should have known my times were suggestions).  I had an itinerary set for the day which included Yoga, lunch, Go Karting, outlet shopping and dinner.  The problem started when I forgot my friend Jennifer would be over to finish the flooring in the basement that has been unfinished for longer than it has been finished.  She knows me and when it snowed texted me to tell me to leave 15 minutes early for yoga.  It took way longer than I thought which put us leaving a LOT later than I had planned.  The Brit and I were disagreeing a lot then (we have worked it out) and so he was in a bad mood and Finn was in a bad mood and everybody was in a bad mood.

I forget.  I forget he is in a different country with a different set of rules and expectations.  I forget that sometimes, it's the littlest things that remind us of, make us miss, and make us appreciate home.

In the end, we had a great time.  And I learned about his need for schedules.  He learned my need for adventure over-rides schedules.  Unless I get overwhelmed.  Then I need a schedule.

He still asks me for an hourly itinerary every weekend and most days.  We are very busy people (last weekend we threw a small party Friday night, did yoga, cleaning, Skyping, shopping, errands and dinner Saturday, then went to my mom and dads for birthday party Sunday. (Oh, and my cousin called with last minute tickets to Meghan Trainor and I TOTALLY WENT TO THAT.) On weekends we have Lily, a lot of time is spent crafting and creating.

I tried to explain that 7:00 means 7-ish.  I thought we had both learned our lesson.  But then last week, he was late to school. And it was all my fault.  From this he learned I am not an adult.  I need count downs every morning.  I may never grow out of this.  He will never grow out of being on time.  Not that I want him too.

In the end, he forgave me, for messing up the itinerary and for making him late to school.  It will happen again (there's an over-under for how many times it will happen again if you want in.)

I Told You So

Ok, I admit it.  I judge my sisters harshly because they are stay at home moms.  They went to college and got Bachelor Degrees and then chose to stay home and raise children.  It's totally cool.  And totally not my thing.

They tried to warn me about getting a teenager, but I told them they were crazy.  I mean, he can feed and bath himself, what's the big deal?

One of the reasons this post has taken me so long is because I wanted to make sure I was telling the truth.  You see, more than one person at work have told me that I am successful because I do not have children.  This struck me horribly wrong.  But having a teenager the last 2 months has taught me so much.

Today, my sister asked if I like having Finn around.  I answered, honestly, "Yeah... most of the time." "What did you expect," she asked, "it's a kid."

But that's it: time.  That's what I wasn't expecting.

The other day Finn asked me what I expected a host kid would be like.  I told him, honestly, that the things I was worried about was not at all what I should have been worried about.  And I did not realize how much attention a kid would need.

I know, I know. If you are a parent (or bonus parent) you are laughing right now.  Of course they take time! Finn expects to eat EVERY DAY.  Also, there is homework.  And keeping him entertained. And making sure he is happy and healthy. But on top of that I work full time and so does my husband and we have his daughter every other weekend and Finn has soccer and my sisters have birthdays and I have yoga and we go to my parents once a week and then I have my friends.

I know I probably go overboard.  I am a slight perfectionist.

So my sisters were right.  Having a kid will change your life, even if it is a teenager.  THERE! I SAID IT!

But here is what I say to the people at work:  It's all time.  Everyone has the same 24 hours.  Not having kids doesn't give me more time, but having one has sure changed how I spend it.  I have tried to be very self aware.  I will not say I did not have time to post in the last 3 weeks (although I really want to), because I did have time.  I just chose to do something else.

Admitting this is like granting forgiveness; it takes so much weight off.  Yesterday the boy and the Brit and I played Rock Band for 4 hours.  That was a choice I made.  Tomorrow it's school, meetings. helping my Godmother/Godfather with their computer woes and then being back at home in time to meet the foreign exchange people (they have to come to make sure we are taking care of the kid.  Although it's more like he takes care of us.) And then cooking dinner.  Again.  I mean seriously, it's like every night!

But it's also an amazing pay off.  My sisters are already missing Finn.  And the Brit and I are, too.  The memories we make (sledding, go karts, Rock Band,) are worth more than the fact that it's harder to keep up at work and I have gained 6 pounds because eating healthy and working out require time that I have traded.

So be honest with yourself.  You have the time; own how you choose to spend it.  And maybe invest in some freezer meals.