midsummer

I finally got a device to put a memory chip in for photos. Rick mailed it to me to use until the other computer is repaired. I have some pictures in the digital camera but this one was on the chip that Rick sent. It is one of the salmon fishing boats that are now all on dry land again for the season. The last of the fish have been processed and the freezer emptied up there. Rick will be coming home for a week and then going back until freeze up, whenever that is, to work on a building project. More money for the year but more time alone with the kids for me. It will probably be October before he gets back. We have decided to put all of the school age kids in school this year. I have prayed long and hard about it and it is difficult for me to give up on home schooling, even temporarily. I have always wanted the best for the kids and have felt that I knew them better than anyone else and would be able to give them what they need and protect them from all the evil and pain out there. I think that I have done a decent job and am not sorry for giving them the foundation that I have. I am just not sure that I am the best one for the job at this point. It is hard to be everything to everyone. I have been fighting a big battle for the last year with some of them, most of them. I am the mom and I represent the mom that abused them and hurt them. They take that out on me. They rebel against me and don't want my opinions or instruction at this point. They buck me in as many ways as they can. The last straw was their attitude toward God. If I say that God loves them then they make fun of God, reading the Bible, loving each other..I finally realized that maybe it was time to back off on the teaching
part and pray more, love them more by filling myself up more with time with God, asking for more of His spirit, letting Him put others in their path that they would listen to better than me. If I am the seawall for their anger, putting up boundaries but not trying so hard to be the mom-teacher that they don't want, then maybe it will give God the job of healing their hearts. I can't do it.
We have had a lot of fun this summer in my opinion. We have been swimming almost every day, had picnics and watermelon, played frisbee and soccer. Participated in rec league soccer and the swim team, been to the water park, rode ATVs, picked berries, hiked and fished. But if you ask any one of the adopted kids, except the two little ones, they will tell you that it has been a boring summer. I know because they have told several people, in my presence. Several caseworkers have heard what a hard, boring life my kids have. All work and no play. Work, as in making your bed after you get out of it at 10 and packing your swimsuit, there has been a minimum of work this summer. If you want to do things for people and then have them appreciate it, don't be a parent, especially not the parent of a child that was abused or neglected. They seem to have a permanently negative view of life. I have hope that it will not always be so, but that is the reality right now. Well, it is nearing bed time and the fight to get them to stay in bed and go to sleep. I will try to get some recent pictures out of the camera in the next couple of days. The teenagers are all going to a really cool Christian camp in Tenn. which is a miracle that I should have started this blog with but I grumbled as usual. It is just that I have had a long day of one disgruntled child after another and it wears on you after a while. God does amazing things daily and getting the kids in this camp and providing the finances has been faith building, to say the least. I look forward to the growth that I believe will come from the experience of the next week. It will be a great midsummer break in the bad attitudes of some of them and a great way to boost them spiritually as they go into the school year. God is good.

I finally enter the high tech world, learn a little about the computer and digital cameras, start a blog and the computer gets fried by lightening. Well, it isn't fried, it just doesn't remember who it belongs to and so all our info is hidden in there or gone. We don't know yet. Have to leave that up to the computer experts. In the meantime, I'm trying to use Rick's computer which is a little slow, has none of my pictures and no memory chip slot and looks different on the screen so it is difficult for me to find things. It didn't even have letters on the keyboard (since Rick can type) and I had to write them on with magic marker. Pitiful. And that it what I feel like my parenting skills have been lately. I know, like my internet friend, Cindy, recently said, that all these non birthed children came to me by a plan from God for their lives. It's just that things don't appear to be going at all like I pictured. Cute kids, bring them home, teach them about Jesus, love them, give them some direction and boundaries and they will be grateful little missionaries in the army of God.Not. One or two things I didn't take into account. One was genetics. Forget the blank slate theory. Children from people who were so messed up that they lost their kids have kids with built in problems. #2, the devil wanted these kids like he wanted their parents (and all of us for that matter) and is fighting tooth and nail to keep them and ruin their lives. Every day is such a battle. I have one who wants to get away from me as soon as possible and make my life miserable in the meantime, another teetering on the brink of sanity, one who swings between angel and demon hourly. I am being clung to and kissed on, dissed (disrespected) and defied, can't leave the room for fights breaking out, yes, I am grumbling again. I am pretty sure, almost convinced, that women can't do what needs to be done for teenage boys. Several of mine pay about as much attention to me as a mosquito. Today I was called a liar, my words were met with "yeah, right, in your dreams", "whatever", I was mocked, talked over and treated like another child, and all this by at least two that were grounded for serious misbehavior already. They need a man, and Rick is still in Alaska and they treated him like a fly on the wall anyway. Most of which was my fault because I asked him to take it easy on them and try to win their friendship first. I thought it was a good idea but I'm not so sure. I probably should have let him deal with them in his own way and worried about the friendship or whatever later. That will all have to be started over when he gets back and whatever damage I caused undone.
I have been reading and hearing from God by way of books and people and remembering quotes from other books, Bible verses popping into my head, about the battle that we are in, the Last Battle, I believe, for our hearts, the battle for our kids. It is raging and I see it in the rebellion of some of my children, in the mental instability of some...the ones who have "something" that keeps them awake and driven to exhaustion at night..the one who still occasionally hears voices telling her untrue things, the cruelty that they demonstrate to each other at times. I have been praying like I never have before for God to intervene and protect us from the firey darts, no, bombs, of the devil and his rabble, to give me faith. I feel like the guy who brought his son to Jesus, the boy who the devil was throwing in the fire and water trying to kill him. It isn't quite that drastic with my sons, my daughters, but I can relate. The devil is jerking these kids around and has been since before they were born, since they were inside their mothers womb, some of them marinating in vodka. I find some of the same doubts, the desperation, "Lord, if you can do anything, please heal my son." And I hear Him say, "If you believe, all things are possible to him who believes." And I say "Lord, I believe, help my unbelief." Faith, the evidence of things not seen, the substance of things hoped for...I am trying to look at my kids with the eyes of faith, begging for more faith to believe that God can do what I can't. I don't have much evidence today that all my efforts are doing a lick of good, there isn't much substance to what I had hoped for- strong , secure young Christians, ready to be gradually turned out into the world to continue on their own to fight for what is right. I know that things aren't what they seem. The boy did get delivered from the demons. I just want to beat the demons out of them myself. (no, I don't want to beat up my kids, but the saying"whipping the devil out of them" may have been closer to what folks meant , really") It doesn't work that way, I don't think. God has to do it, and for some of them, they may have to choose to let Him, and I can't speed that up. Some days I'm just not sure what I AM supposed to do while I pray for them. Keep grounding them? Let them vent? I'll get up tomorrow and try again...

Kubatsa

That is the word that the Russian kids used for "swimming" when they came. Igor chanted "kubatsa" every morning when he got up that first summer. Here he is, tan and macho-looking, on a tube at the lake. What a difference from that first summer! There has been a lot of water fun for this bunch so far this summer. Uncle Steve has taken the pontoon boat to the Lake twice already, and the jet ski once at least. The jet ski didn't run very long but a lot of fun was had with the tubes anyway. The boat loaded with 10 of my kids and 10 or so of the cousins, aunts and uncles really made us look like a party boat. We got some looks cruising around checking out the mansions. Some peoples boat houses looked as if they cost more than the gross income of some countries.
Fern was here for about a week after I returned from my peaceful Alaska trip. I hated to see her go. She did a great job with the house and little kids, ran a fun kids camp, basically. She and Ben will be back at Thanksgiving which will be here sooner than I think.
I have been trying to keep everyone busy so that we minimize conflict. Mark Rutland, who ran a boys camp for years, says the only good boy is a tired boy. You would think daily ultimate frisbee games, YMCA workouts, yard work and swimming would do it. For most of them it works just fine. Sergey, on the other hand, can't be made good by being made tired. Seems to have the opposite effect. We are watching the phone for a call from the Outdoor Therapy Program and holding on. He is at my sisters for a few days to give the kids a break. I still feel guilty about him going to OTP, buying in to his accusations that it is my fault, if I hadn't taken him to mental health none of this would be happening, no meds, no stigma...I have to keep reminding myself that I really held it all off as long as I could, that his own actions have put him where he is. His mother may have been drunk when she was pregnant, he was horribly abused and neglected, but he CAN control his temper, he does it in public when he wants to save face, when he wants to impress people. He has danced around outright violence for several months now ( thanks, in part, to his medicine) but his verbal tirades, hateful comments, and cruel treatment of all the younger kids in the family are more than children should have to put up with. I have run out of ideas, sending him in exile to his room being the only way to have a few minutes peace. He knows that and yells spiteful things back down the stairs as he goes. I know that OTP will not be like extreme home makeover. I really think that prayer and battling with the devil for him over the long haul is what will make the ultimate difference. It will still be his decision, but I am going to keep beating on the door of Heaven, knowing that God will keep after him, just like he brought him out of that orphanage and into my life. OTP will give him and us some space, maybe break some habits and give him some tools.
In other news: Raymond has a lifeguard job and a car and is enjoying flapping his wings. Salvador scored 3 goals in his first soccer game, Anya got 3rd place in butterfly at the last swim meet, Alina lost 2 front teeth and when she got money under her pillow, worked out a 3rd one (I'm glad the others are stuck tight). Elijah has his first short haircut (will post pictures later). We are now eating new potatoes and fresh tomatoes from the garden. I made some killer salsa with the first chili peppers. Even Alina ate it, gulping water between bites. There may be more Russians than Mexicans but they're all addicted to hot sauce and cilantro.