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Tuesday, July 16, 2002
Renton Family of Six Opens Arms and Hearts to Adopt Five Russian Siblings
By Christine Clarridge
Seattle Times staff reporter
ALAN BERNER / THE SEATTLE TIMES
RENTON — Wayne Dalgardno sometimes has to stop for a second and take a deep breath before he pulls into his driveway. At the end of the gravel road, nine children will be waiting for him.
Even before he gets out of the car, he's surrounded by cries of "Dad" and "Papa." The kids will hug him and kiss him, snake their arms through his, grab his hands and pull on his sleeves. The little ones will shout repeatedly to get his attention, especially when his job has taken him away for a couple days.
A little over a month ago, the Dalgardno family of six became a family of 11 when Dalgardno and his wife returned from a Russian orphanage with five adopted siblings and began the daunting task of merging two families into one.
In some ways it doesn't seem real yet. Karen Dalgardno has caught herself thinking in surprise, "They're still here!"
Others who've adopted groups of children say this is the honeymoon stage, in which affirmations of love and acceptance abound. Other stages will certainly follow, but for now the Dalgardno family's days are filled with chaos, wonder and kisses.
"Look me!" cries 12-year-old Sasha, the second-oldest of the adopted children as he skates down the front walk and jumps the steps. His 8-year-old brother, Stas, on a bicycle, yells, "Papa Papa Papa," until Dalgardno turns to watch him do a wheelie.
Masha, 15, the oldest of the Russians, rushes downstairs and bounds down the front porch beaming.
She gives her new dad a big hug and studies his face. The 10-year-old girls — biological daughter Annamarie and adopted daughter Katya — get on either side of their father and wrap their arms around his waist.
"It's a wonderful welcome," Dalgardno said. "Exhausting sometimes, but wonderful."
The Dalgardnos, a Christian, home-schooling family with four birth children, started to talk about adoption a little over two years ago.
Wayne Dalgardno, 42, once a professional saxophone player who went back to school for his MBA after becoming a father, works for Adobe Systems. Karen Dalgardno, 39, a calm and easy-going homemaker, loves being surrounded by kids.
They already had decided after Annamarie was born that they wouldn't have any more children, but they loved teaching their kids, guiding them and playing with them and felt they could care for more.
Wayne Dalgardno's job as an anti-piracy expert provided a good living, and the family had gotten a sweet deal on lakeside property last year where they built their six-bedroom dream house.
"We could have bought a lot of toys," said Karen Dalgardno, who met her husband at a church function when she was 14 and married him when she was 21.
"Or a Beemer or a yacht," he said.
"But we wanted to do something that would make a difference, that would last," she said. "And family has always been one of the things that mattered to us most."
Jim Amandus, their pastor at Highlands Community Church in Renton, had adopted a 7-year-old Russian child through an agency, World Association for Children and Parents — WACAP — and the Dalgardnos were familiar with the program.
According to Amandus, the concept of caring for someone else's children is strange to Russians, who adopt very few of their own country's orphaned babies and virtually none of its older children.
Since Russia opened its doors to foreign adoptions more than a decade ago, Americans have been bringing home increasing numbers of Russian children — nearly 5,000 last year alone.
"The Dalgardnos saw the desperate need there was in some of these orphanages and wanted to do something," their pastor said. "They are a wonderful, loving family with a lot of compassion for children."
2 boys, 3 girls
Karen and Wayne Dalgardno thought at first they would adopt a set of siblings, maybe a brother and sister. But when they started looking at the adoption agency's photo albums of children needing homes, they kept returning to a particular page.
There were five smiling children, aged 7 through 15 years; two boys and three girls in coordinated outfits, the girls with their hair pinned up in big white bows.
"That was what did it for me," said Wayne Dalgardno, looking at the photo that's now displayed on the door of their fridge. "I couldn't resist the bows in their hair."
The Dalgardnos were told the children had been living in the orphanage for six years, after being taken from their alcoholic mother by the state when their father died. Because Masha was nearing 16, an age considered an adoption cutoff point in Russia, she and her siblings were in one of the agency's fast-track programs. If the Dalgardnos wanted them, the adoption could be relatively fast and simple.
The Dalgardnos had serious conversations with each other and with their biological children. Once, their 17-year-old son Nicholas observed, "We can't just be thinking about what's good for us. We have to think about what's good for those other kids, too."
After prayer and soul-searching, the Dalgardnos filled out the paperwork at the end of last year.
Karen Dalgardno made the announcement to their extended family during an annual vacation.
"We showed them pictures of the kids, and someone said, 'Oh, how cute! Are you going to adopt one?' and we said, 'No, we're adopting all of them,' " she said. "They thought we were crazy. But they were very supportive."
Scramble to get ready
In April, they learned the adoptions had been approved. The Dalgardnos scrambled to get their home and their four children ready.
Nicholas, a youth-group leader, camp counselor and bass player, was in Running Start last year at a local college.
Amanda, 16, is a competitive vocalist who loves baby-sitting, slumber parties and girl stuff (one of the first things she did with her adopted sisters was take them to the mall and get their ears pierced).
Nicholas and Amanda already had rooms of their own in the partially finished basement and were perfectly happy to keep it that way.
Daniel, 12, who loves baseball, soccer, posters and playing his sax, likes to make funny, irreverent comments and push boundaries a bit. He didn't want to share a room, so his dad's first-floor office was converted to a bedroom.
Bunk beds were moved into his old room for the two Russian boys, Sasha and Stas, and a hideaway loft was carved out of the attic space there as a quiet place.
Annamarie collects stickers and stuffed animals. Gentle and kind, Annamarie didn't have to compete for attention as the baby of the family. She was delighted to share her room with her new Russian sisters, Masha, Katya and Natasha, 7.
Two sets of bunks were brought in and covered with matching comforters and stuffed animals. Outside in the hallway, shelves were installed for clothes.
Friends at the church, where Wayne Dalgardno plays sax, helped the family get ready. A church member made a Web site that listed mattresses, bunk beds, bikes and other items the growing family would need. Others scoured thrift shops and department stores and went through their kids' closets. Casseroles were made and delivered; the freezer was stocked.
Refinancing for adoptions
The Dalgardnos won't say what the adoptions cost, but others familiar with the process said it's typically about $10,000 per child.
In any case, they refinanced their home. They applied for five sets of immigration papers and sent a photo album with pictures of the house, yard and family to each of the Russian children. They sorted and packed five bags of clothes, adding a few extras when they weren't sure of size.
They met their children in Kazan in Central Russia and then traveled with them to the orphanage in Buinsk for an adoption celebration and a going-away party.
"It was very moving," Karen Dalgardno said.
The adopted children
Masha, 15, was essentially a parent to her younger siblings in Russia and has the usual teen interests: slumber parties, music and giggling.
But she's also still a little girl in some ways. She's gathered all the stuffed dogs in the whole house and lined them up along her bed, and she likes to go out to play street hockey and ball with the others.
Sasha, 12, is stubborn when it suits him, and he once sat on the stairs for nearly three hours rather than taste a chicken dish that didn't look appealing to him. He learned to say "Me, first" and used that phrase a lot in the Costco sample line, but he also brings his new mother flowers every day. He has a huge smile and loves to swim.
Katya, 10, likes being the center of attention. She'll chatter away happily in her own mixture of Russian and English, telling stories, grinning and gesturing.
Stas, 8, has bright blue eyes and a wiry body that never stops moving. If he's not eating or sleeping, he's probably on a bike or skates or chasing a ball.
Natasha, 7, is the quietest of all nine kids and the most likely to be found cuddled up in the arms of her parents or older sisters and brothers. She's meticulous and keeps her drawers and shelf space tidy. She loves books and toys that make noise.
The newest Dalgardnos haven't been able to tell their new family what their life at the orphanage was like, but it was probably quite structured.
"Everything would have been regimented and on schedule," said Amandus, the pastor, who has talked to his own adopted daughter about life in a Russian orphanage.
Karen Dalgardno said she can tell that her kids were well disciplined. They know how to work and they know how to mind.
"I remember thinking when we were there that it looked like a well-run elementary school," she said. "Except that none of the kids would be going home."
When they arrived in the Puget Sound area, the kids, who had never seen a skyscraper, thought Bellevue was New York City.
Barriers melted away
As soon as the family pulled into the driveway of their rural home, and the nine children met, any cultural and language barriers melted away, Karen Dalgardno said.
"We found they didn't need to speak the same language, they just started to play."
Daniel pulled out the chess board, Annamarie got her dolls out and someone else pulled out the bikes.
Karen Dalgardno said her family made the decision to assimilate the Russians to their language and culture, rather than mixing the two, because this is the country they now live in. The Russian kids are learning English from a tutor who comes twice a week and from their new family members.
The kids, of course, are teaching each other mild insults. "You doo-rack," said Daniel, calling Masha the masculine form of crazy. "You doo-ra," she said, calling him the feminine form. When Wayne Dalgardno asks if he likes ice cream, Sasha quips: "You like sandwich knuckle?"
As with her birth kids, Karen Dalgardno refuses to make special meals even though she knows spaghetti sauce and pizza will be acquired tastes for the newcomers.
"That could start a very bad trend," she said. "What they want are herring and cabbage. That's what they always had before. Now, I like herring and I'll eat it once a year, but I'm not going to have it every day."
On the other hand, they're all crazy about potatoes. "I could probably make 45 potatoes and they'd eat them all, but you have to put a lid on it somewhere."
Lots of laundry
About the only place that bums Karen Dalgardno out is her laundry room. The first thing she has to do when she gets up in the morning is start a load of clothes, one of 15 or so she will do each week.
"The worst thing is when I've just done a whole bunch and someone says they're out of socks. I just want to say, 'Borrow some!' "
At some point during the day, she assigns each child a chore, explaining with hand signals, body language and words what needs to get done.
"That's one of the best things about this," Daniel said. "We each only have to do one job now."
When it's playtime, Stas, the 8-year-old, will always head outside, putting on skates or hopping on a bike. Some will join him and others will play chess, knit, plink the piano, play ball, color or read.
Sasha may very well plant himself in front of the thermometer and sit there, waiting for it to hit 68 degrees.
"I told him once he could go swimming when it turned 68," Karen Dalgardno said a bit ruefully, and now he takes it very literally to mean he can swim every time it hits 68.
"Swim, Mama, swim. I like swim," he said, beaming and dragging her down to the water.
His persistence will often result in a family swim after dinner, when all 11 Dalgardnos will trail down to the lake. Some will dive right in. Others will get about their paddle boat or head out in their canoe.
The "honeymoon stage" does eventually end, said a WACAP social worker. "When reality sets in, the children and the parents stop being on their best behavior and all kinds of issues come up. The children start being their own true selves."
Experts say some of the issues include sadness on the part of the former orphans at the loss of their orphanage friends and caretakers. Oldest children in a sibling group often take on the role of parents. When they are adopted, their role changes and that can cause uncertainty.
'Turmoil is a good thing'
"Sometimes it's hard for the child to let go of that role and figure out where they fit in now," the WACAP social worker said. "All that turmoil is a good thing, even though it's hard. It means that the children feel comfortable and safe enough in the home to be themselves."
Abbie Henzs, 15, the oldest biological child in a Spokane family that last year adopted five Russian siblings, said the past year has been harder and more challenging than she expected.
"In some ways, they were on good behavior when they first got here," said Abbie, describing herself as a second mother to her new siblings, who range in age from four to 12. "Now they're feeling more comfortable and they're acting up. Their issues have been coming out. And there are personal-space issues I hadn't anticipated."
Already the Dalgardnos are feeling the squeeze. If they had their way, Katya and Natasha, the two youngest girls, would never leave Nicholas and Amanda alone.
"My lap is never empty," Nicholas said. It is hard sometimes," Amanda said. "I don't really get to have time alone with my mom and dad like I used to."
The Dalgardnos, aware that their biological kids could feel a little pushed aside as the family adjusts, arranged for each child to have some time away.
Shortly after the new kids arrived, Daniel and Annamarie went to Disney World with their grandparents. And this month, Amanda and Daniel will attend a Christian youth camp in Michigan.
The Dalgardnos say that they know their adopted children will test boundaries within the family and that as they become fluent in the language and the culture they'll push limits outside the home as well.
They know that next year, they'll have five teenagers in the house and that three of them probably will be driving.
They know there will be many SAT tests to prepare for, many college applications to fill out, and a lot of tuition to pay. But they have no regrets.
"These kids need love and a home and a fair opportunity," Wayne Dalgardno said. "And we're in a position to give it to them."
"People always say, 'It must be so much work,' " Karen Dalgardno said. "And I say, 'It's OK. I've got help. I've got nine kids.' "
Christine Clarridge can be reached at 206-464-8983 or cclarridge@seattletimes.com.
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