Energy runs high at Christmas.  The kids began Winter Break last weekend, and they’ve been living on adrenaline the entire week.

I’m not delusional enough to think they’ve been struck by a Jesus bug so strong that they’re this psyched to celebrate his birthday.  Of course their nuttiness is directly related to gift anticipation, but there’s also been an interesting attitude shift.  Yes, they’re excited to see what shows up on Christmas morning, but they’ve also been more interested in gifts we’ve given to others.  It’s nice to see.

I’d promised myself I would be more aware this holiday season, so I’ve been keeping my eyes open for difficult moments or new issues.  Not surprisingly, a few have popped up here and there.

My family celebrated the holiday last weekend.  We were lucky enough to have everybody there this year, and the kids (along with BrightSide and me) looked forward to it for weeks.  It does tend to be a long day, though – this year we arrived around 1:00 and didn’t leave until after 8:30.

What on earth did we do for all that time, you ask?  Well…we talked.  And we ate.  And we talked some more. And then we opened presents, followed by more talking.  (We can talk an awful lot.)  There were a few cups of coffee in there and a great deal of yummy desserts (Christmas cookies…fudge…mmmm) – it just kind of stretches out into a marathon celebration.  Always has.

But this year I truly focused on how my kids handled that level of, well, togetherness.  Bear’s a social butterfly so she’s happiest when she’s surrounded by people, but T-man needs a little more space.  He likes seeing our family, yes, but every once in a while he needs to check out and recharge.

Enter the back bedroom – he’d disappear for a while, reboot, then join us again when he was ready to be social.  It seemed to help.  T-man didn’t get frustrated by constant overstimulation, and when he was part of the gathering we enjoyed his company.  I’m learning that it’s important to honor his needs along with expecting certain behavior.

The other glitch we’ve hit (so far) was with Christmas cards.

I was getting cards ready for the kids’ birthmothers – we’d printed a few pictures of them both to send inside a card for the holidays.  Maintaining communication has always been my area of responsibility, but T-man and Bear are getting older now so I thought it was important to make the offer to involve them.  I chose what seemed like a safe suggestion and asked if they wanted to write in the cards.

T-man said yes right away.  He seemed excited and signed his card “I love you.  T-man.”

But not Bear.  When I asked her about signing a card there was this odd little pause and her eyes got a bit wet before she said no.  I left it there at the time but the next day I followed up with her, asking if she had anything she wanted to talk about.  Bear couldn’t really articulate why, but she said signing things for her birthmother made her feel sad.

I know there’s more to this conversation but she just didn’t seem to be ready for it, so we cuddled on the couch for a while before Bear changed the subject.

It hurts to see her sad and not be able to talk her through to the other side, but I don’t know that Bear has the vocabulary to describe what she’s feeling right now.  Conflicting emotions, sadness over a person who isn’t physically ‘in’ her life, finding her place in the world through all of it – well, it’s a lot to ask of a 9-year-old.

Parenting an adopted child feels a lot like a high wire act without a net.  The stakes seem so high when it comes to handling issues of self-esteem and identity crises, and it’s not like you get a bunch of do-overs if you screw it up.  But I keep doing what I can do…I read, I write, I talk with other adoptive parents and with those who were adopted themselves…I try to see all sides of the story, because I know that’s how I can become the best possible mom for my kids.