I've always loved brown eyes. Perhaps it's because they are so different from my own. Or maybe because they reflect light so magnificently. Our daughter's eyes are a beautiful shade of brown. So dark, and so deep. It's easy to get lost in them.
Ironically, I'm finding it difficult to capture those eyes (or face, or any part of her) in photos. Perhaps it is because I'm usually grabbing my slow phone camera. Or maybe it's because she'd rather be exploring, or held in our arms (not complaining about that one). I suppose it is fitting, that she's already caught the "photographer's child syndrome". Perhaps her brothers advised her to make photos as tricky as possible? You know, to keep me on my toes and all.
Our family has sampled at least five new Chinese foods this week, thanks to supplies from friends. And - to our great surprise - everyone is loving it! Today's Chinese dish disappeared within minutes. But I think my boys would fall on the floor if they learned that they'd been gobbling up bean noodles. Shhhh...
A sweet Chinese couple offered to make congee for us, so we dropped by their house to pick it up. They peeked into the car where the kids were waiting, said hello to our boys, and greeted our daughter in Mandarin before we bid them goodbye. Her eyes got wide; it was a look that I'd seen twice before. She breathed heavily for most of the short ride home, then lost it and began sobbing for the final minutes. She calmed quickly when we pulled into the driveway and I held her close. As painful as it was to see her fear, I hope it was good for her to realize that we were all going home again. Together.
She still has a rough time going to sleep. And, once asleep, she flips and turns constantly, like a fish out of water. The evenings can be wearing, as it takes one of us 30 minutes to 2 hours to calm her enough for those little eyes to close. It is frustrating for all of us, especially when there are three other children to tuck in, dishes to do, housework to finish, emails to return and, on nights that Randy works, only one parent available to do all of them.
However, as trying as it can feel for us, she has reasons for her unrest. Her entire life has been turned upside down - enough of an excuse on its own. And this week she gave me some clues about why bedtime might be especially tough. I watched as she played "bedtime" with a stuffed animal. There was no story, no holding, no tenderness, no love. The actions were swift, harsh, angry. I know what orphanages are like. But still my heart broke for her.
I can't begin to imagine all that those deep brown eyes have seen. I guess that's why her past can never be considered trivial. It has shaped her, and will continue to do so in some ways. We have to learn to understand her, along with her past. The good AND the bad.
In many ways, she inspires me to be a better person. A better mom. Because she deserves it. And, truthfully, my boys do too. A mom that isn't so rushed, tired, and spent. I pray that I don't lose sight of that desire as the pace quickens in the coming months; in the blur of carpools, homework, practices, holidays. We all know that the most difficult journeys often shape us the most. And I hope this one shapes me for a long time to come.
p.s. Here's one of the more successful shots so far. That little hand on the step was about to launch her body right back into action again. :)
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