I’ve been trying to think about a way to write about the trip to Russia to pick up Tima without sounding like I hate my new son. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate the little guy, I certainly do ya-tib-ya-loo-bloo (I love you) the dude -- but as my dear, dear, dear, sweet wife and I discussed last night in whispered tones on the couch after finally
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What still amazes me is that you can still read about people who have houses FULL of children from foreign countries that they've adopted into their loving homes. I feel like my wires are often frayed just juggling the two kids that were born directly into our family (and while one is 'special needs,' he's in no way a burden any more than any other child is or would be); I simply can't imagine having to coax a child along through an unfamiliar world after the years of what Tima's life was like beforehand.
How do the people who adopt multiple children at a time out of situations like this handle that?
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Russians should smile that you even attempted their insane language
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