The first week the boys were home was wild.  Our other 5 children were delighted with these miniature people.  Both boys were the same size as our two year old.

Ouseman was loud and funny and crazy wild.  The boys could understand us perfectly, but their heavy accented English was very difficult for us.  Ouseman wanted to always be the center of attention. Tim couldn't go anywhere or do anything without Ouseman.  If he told Ouseman no, he couldn't go, Ouseman would grab onto his leg and beg and beg. He wouldn't be told no.

Jumoke was fairly quiet, taking things in.  He was wild as well, but in a different way. It seemed to me that Ouseman was always getting Jumoke riled up into some trouble.  If I could just get Ouseman on my side, I felt I'd have both boys.

I barely began to know the boys when a week after they arrived, I received a phone call that my dad was dying.  Tim and I talked it over and we agreed I should be there.  I packed up and left with my sister and my mom to make the trip up north.  I planned to stay until it was over.

It was a privilege to be with him the last three days of his life.  The nurses were kind and made up two cots in his room, so my sister and I could sleep there with him.  My other siblings and my mom stayed in a hotel nearby.

I spent all my time at the home with my dad. My family brought me meals, and I would take short walks outside from time to time. 

However, Tim was having quite a time of it at home.  The boys were more than a handful for two adults, let alone one defenseless man.  The birth children were a big help, but he wanted his wife.  He called me frequently, not wanting to make me come home, but making it clear that he was out of his league and wanted me back as soon as I could.

After my dad was gone, we headed home.  We had the funeral to plan, and because my house is so large, we would be hosting some of the relatives coming up for the funeral, as well as the get together after the funeral.

I was pretty stressed.

We bought brand new dress up clothes for the boys. Oh, they loved their little button up shirts and slacks and the cute vests.  They strutted around like little peacocks. My children were treating them like little princes and brand new toys at the same time.

The funeral went well.  But I was overwhelmed.  At the get together afterward, Ouseman was outside with the other children and came running pell mell into the house.  He'd never seen a glass door before, so just assumed he was running thru an empty space.  He slammed full body into the window, then bounced off and onto his back onto the concrete patio floor.

He wailed and wailed in pain and fear.  I picked him up and carried him into his room. I rocked him and tried to hold him close, but he kept pulling away from me.  I held him close anyway, whispering words of love and comfort.  It went on for almost an hour.

Finally he was calm enough for us to try again.  We went out to the living area, and I don't know what happened, but Jumoke started wailing outside.  I went to get him and carried him into his room as well. I rocked him and petted him and whispered words of comfort to him, and he clung to me, wailing and wailing. 

What a difference between the boys!  Ouseman would hardly let me near him.  Jumoke clutched me and wailed into my chest.

I was not able to comfort Jumoke tho. The wailing went on and on, and everytime I started to put him away from me, the wailing increased in intensity.  We were well past an hour of crying.  I didn't know what to do.

I finally left him on the bed and went to find Tim.  I asked Tim if he would go be with Jumoke for a bit, but Tim said to let him cry. He thought Jumoke was tired and would cry himself to sleep.

I heard the crying subside just then, and walked in to see if he were ok.  He was standing there, hugging my cousin, his face wet with tears, but definitely feeling better.

My cousin was a bit angry at me for leaving this crying orphan, so new to this country and home, alone in a room. I tried to explain, but my explanation fell flat.  I looked cruel and unkind.  I felt cruel and unkind.

And how had she been able to comfort this child that had been so comfortless this last couple hours?  She apparently had something I did not.  I felt horrible.

I was glad when everyone left to go home to their various states and homes.  I was feeling very vulnerable, and wanted to start to get to know these boys well so that we could get on with life and graft them into our family.  I knew it was going to be a wonderful adventure, and I was totally up to the challenge.

We had gotten off to a bad start. But things were going to start getting better very soon. I just knew it.