Sometimes I’m amazed by how things change around here so rapidly.  I wake up one morning, go for a run, come back an hour later, and my daughter–who barely could muster her way through the word “down” is saying, “hi,” and “mama” all on her own.

That, my friends, is progress.  And that, to me, is the best part of raising a child–watching the progression.   For adoptive parents with children who have significant delays, the progression tends to happen sporadically.  We go from asking ourselves whether or not our children will ever catch up, to being completely satisfied that, yes, it will happen just–in its own time.  And when it does, it happens–literally–overnight.

Audri still isn’t speaking regularly; but she also isn’t producing those blank stares that have come to haunt me.  She’s repeating the words she’s hearing and she’s using them within relevant context.   I’m no expert, but I have read that children who are taken from their native language sort of go into a “language arrest” of sorts because they’re bombarded with new words and new sounds.  It takes a lot of effort for children to reproduce these sounds.  I can tell this, too, by Audri’s version of “yeeee-ha!”  We have a Mega Blocks farm with sounds and music, including “yeeee-ha!” Audri repeats it as “yeeeee-kah!”  It’s almost like she has a little accent.  She’s going from a language filled with hard sounds and clunky consonants to words with more vowels and new letters that produce altogether different sounds.  So, it’s no wonder these kids can’t talk right from the get-go.

But the progress I’ve seen over the past three months has been tremendous–and not only in the speech/language area, but also by Audri’s comprehension, her motor skills, and–well, basically, the fact that she’s engaged speaks volumes.  Four months ago, this little girl was just playing with lace curtains because they were nothing like she had ever felt before.  Now she’s engaged in toys and activities and people.  And when I say, “look at mama” she looks at me square in the eye–something else that was unheard of back in Ukraine.

So, yes, things are going well.  We’re actually on some sort of a schedule, finally–and she’s napping now for two hours during the afternoon.  She’s still tiny, but she fits much better into clothes sized for a 24 month-old instead of an 18-month old.  She’s having far fewer tantrum, which, I suspect, is due to the fact that she understands us much better.  She’s still a toddler, though!

Audri saw a cardiologist last week who performed an echocardiogram and, despite the doctors in Ukraine who diagnosed her with a mitral valve prolapse , he found nothing wrong at all with the exception that her heart, and all of the chambers, is sized for a three year-old, though her body surface area is not.  He was confident, though, that she will catch up soon enough.  Next week, Audri visits with an audiologist, just to make sure her hearing is ok, and we feel confident everything will be fine.

Yeeeee-ka!

Pa and I decided to keep a low profile for Audri’s birthday.  We figured too many presents and too much hoopla would overwhelm her.  It was definitely a good call.  The small celebration we did was plenty for her.

We even staggered her gifts throughout the day–starting with a programmable, talking Elmo doll that greeted her at the breakfast table with a “Happy Birthday, Audri” song.  She didn’t quite know what to make of it at first, but she warmed up to him.

Later in the day, Audri had her first vanilla cupcake, topped with fluffy, pink  frosting and a yellow flower.  She was mesmerized by the lighted “3″ candle and smiled as we three sang the “Happy Birthday” song.  She might not have been aware it was her birthday–but she definitely knew she was the center of attention.

Her birthday was a welcome distraction from some of the recent craziness we’ve been experiencing.  Audri is starting to show us her stubborn side–and when we correct her over things like not scribbling on the couch, not taking off her diaper in bed, and not getting up from the table while eating–she talks back.  It’s all babblespeak, but her tone clearly conveys her anger and frustration toward us and she makes it known that she doesn’t like being told what to do.  It’s hard because on the one hand, we have rules by which she must abide.  I get nervous about correcting her.  I had the same fear with Mr. Na–but, over time, I realized that he needed that structure.  It’s kinda cute, though, when we’ve had our little disagreements, Audri will cry–but she’ll pucker up her lips to kiss me, as if to say “are we still good?”  I give her a big kiss and tell her I love her but she needs to keep her diaper on.

Her other little power struggle stems from our trying to get her to talk.  Audri has about 20 English words she uses on a daily basis–but when we try to get her to say them, she shuts down.  In other words, when she tries to get down from the table, we’ll say, “down?” and she’ll respond by saying, “meh?” (which is her standard response to everything).  So we’ll say, “Audri say down” and she’ll reply “meh?” and this will go on for several minutes before she finally gives up and attempts to back to eating, even though she originally wanted to get down because she was full.  So, it’s stuff like that where she throws down the gauntlet.  I think, though, this is similar to our power struggle with Mr. Na over potty training.  The more we pushed, the more he resisted.  So maybe if we back down a little, she’ll initiate dialogue all on her own.

There’s nothing I love more, though, than feeling her snuggle up against me in the morning, when I come in to wake her up (the snuggling only happens, though, if she’s left her diaper on!)  I know she knows that despite our agreements, we’re still good.