Who knew?

A full set of dimples, wild curly hair, huge brown eyes, feisty as all get out, talks the paint right off the walls... guess which one of my lovelies I'm describing...

Yesterday was a big day for Sierra; a big day that was worth the wait. And the wait has been a sweet and sometimes rocky road. Even before we met Sierra, the things we were told helped us to understand who she was and is, what formed her personality, and the cause of her strong spirit

Born eight weeks early, weighing 3 pounds 10 ounces, addicted to three different drugs - after five weeks in the hospital, Sierra was placed into the care of a wonderful foster mother. About six months later we met Sierra at the age of eight months old. She was a tiny baby - about twelve pounds - with big brown eyes, straight brown hair (which would later fall out and be replaced by her signature curls), deep dimples, and a sweet laugh. The foster mother reported that Sierra showed little distress from the drug withdrawal - which is not common - but that is was uncertain what effects the drugs had had on her system and how that might play out as she got older.

Until she was twenty-four months old, we were followed by a program for preemies through Early Intervention to ensure that Sierra was meeting all the developmental milestones; she was talking by eleven months old and took her first steps at fourteen months. Still on the tiny side at two years old, Sierra was discharged from the Early Intervention program, did not present any delays and so did not qualify for any further services. Although that was somewhat freeing, it left us alone - without the support of those professionals - to face the uncertainty of Sierra's future.

At three years old, Sierra was enrolled in Head Start from which she was removed after a few months due to her problematic behaviors: hitting, kicking, spitting, refusal to participate or listen. Overstimulation and loosely structured activities were very challenging; being at home for another year seemed a good choice. When she was re-enrolled the following school year, she was more successful but continued to struggle with self-control.

At home Sierra was always talking and on the move; her verbal and reasoning skills developed quickly. She was extremely strong-willed and uncooperative at times. Time-outs were difficult as Sierra determined that she would always have the final say in things; but that tenacity also worked in her favor as it became manifested in determination and ambition. We can only speculate that that disposition was what helped her survive and thrive such a tenuous beginning in life.

Kindergarten brought a whole new world - being very bright, Sierra found ways to entertain and amuse herself when not challenged academically. Usually her choices were less than acceptable and sometimes resulted in phone calls home. Through the recommendation of her teacher, Sierra was evaluated and it was determined that she carried the diagnosis of Oppositional Defiant Disorder (ODD). With some strategies and supports, Sierra completed the school year.

It took the first grade teacher two weeks to send an e-mail to let us know that Sierra was not only distracted but distracting to the entire class. After another evaluation, she was additionally diagnosed with Attention Deficient Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD). With the guidance of our doctor, Sierra began to take medication to help with focus and self-control; within a few days the change was remarkable so that even Sierra noticed that she was able to pay attention in school.

In addition to the medicine, Sierra is learning self-discipline through Suzuki violin lessons which we started in kindergarten. These lessons teach children how to play an instrument through listening and memorization, both of which require sustained focus. The teacher also stresses the importance of playing precisely, being responsible for learning the music, and for behavior during the lessons.

Which leads us to the BIG DAY. Sierra had her weekly violin lesson after school - already a challenge since she had withstood an entire day of second grade and was running on fumes from her morning meds. Upon meeting her at her classroom, she was distracted and unfocused - swinging her bookbag in the air, recounting her daily experiences and talking about what she wanted to wear to school the next day. We stepped aside in the hallway on the way to the music room so I could try to help her simmer down enough to focus on the task at hand, and then entered the music room where the other students were quietly and dilligently unpacking their violins. The struggle continued as Sierra could not seem to stop moving or talking; I took her shoulders between my hands so that we were face-to-face and firmly (and as quietly and discreetly as possible) reminded her that she needed to stop talking and think only about violin - it was a chat we'd had many times before, sometimes with good results and sometimes with a crash and burn.

By the end of the half-hour lesson I was nearly beside myself... with pride! Sierra had pulled herself together beautifully, was able to stop talking and focus on the teacher and the music. She played the review songs well - including a fast one in which she did not miss a single note, was able to demonstrate the new material well enough to be moved ahead, and was self-disciplined and focused during a new exercise which she completed as well as the other students.

Later, while unpacking her bookbag at home, she gave me a note from the teacher: Sierra had been invited to participate in a special math program based on her advanced math and reading skills, strong math test scores, and problem-solving ability. Here was proof of that determination.

Experiences like those are special and ones I will treasure and cherish tightly for a long time because they are rare, yes; but also because those are the times I am reminded of how blessed I am to be the mommy of Sierra - a little girl with such a tough start to life. Who knew - or knows - who she will become.