The kids had their first t-ball turn-out today which was lots of fun. Dandy has a good arm and hits the ball well. The most exciting thing of the day was, however, the fact that My Gift is off turn-around and was home early. He is reading books to the kiddos as I type. It is so lovely to have another grown-up in the home.
no, not Juliana, me.
Jamie's Christmas present was a pruning service as we had many trees that were out-of-control. I saved money by arranging it such that the pruners did all the cutting and we would do all the clean-up. So now my yards, front and back, are covered with large branches for which I bought myself a Black & Decker Alligator
I cut it and the kids haul it away. It's way more fun than dusting.
I'm re-posting two links to sites that helped me with my wild boy for Lisa who seems to have brought home a wild one of her own. These boys will wear us out, yes, but they will be very interesting grown-ups.
Staking Tomatoes
Calming Your Wild Child
I'm trying to focus on happier days ahead -- ones in which we get to leave the house and do normal-people things.
My calendar tells me that t-ball practice starts in two weeks. I have NO experience with anything remotely resembling athletic endeavor, so I need your help. What exactly do I need to outfit two little people for t-ball?
On which hand do they wear the glove? their dominant hand I presume? (yes, I was a nerd in school - last one picked etc.)
edited to add that we have a T and a ball and a bat and one glove.
Elle told me I need cleats. When I ebay cleats I get soccer cleats; are they the same?
When I google gloves I get inch measurements. How do I figure out the right size?
They will get team t-shirts. Do they need special pants?
edited once again to share this cool T-Ball coloring book pdf that I found.
okay, so Andy has the flu - the one with vomiting and diarrhea and a cough that keeps him up all night. Only he doesn't know barfing etiquette and runs upstairs for the sink (!), dribbling up the stairs and down the hall and so on, passing FOUR empty plastic wastebaskets as he goes. He then pukes in the sink.
and
I am sick (fever, achy muscles, fatigue, headache), too sick to properly care for him, too sick to be cleaning up all the pukey bits, though I do
and
my husband is dog-tired from 5 weeks of working 12-14 hour days -- no days off -- and is generally only home between 8:00 pm and 6:00 am, on good days. When he is home he needs to be fed and put to bed, but that isn't an option right now.
and
then the fun starts.
First, Juliana finds the little glass on the window sill and spills it. You know, the little glass with an inch of red wine left in it on the window sill right under the silk burlap curtains and next to the beige-ish couch.
Then, while stuffing the couch covers in the wash (whilst almost passing out, as I am too sick to be doing this) every yellow-jacket in the neighborhood comes to help me. So there I am swatting at yellow-jackets and I do confess, naughty words were escaping my lips.
THEN our dear old dog drops a puddle of pee in the middle of the wool rug and, as we rush her to the front door, she dribbles all the way. She did not even seem aware of it, or she would have been mortified.
Barf, Red Wine, and Dog Pee all in one day. What did I do? Annoy the Stain-Gremlins?
A couple of autumns ago, Jamie greeted me at the front door saying, "I had to rescue a little puppy." I think, "Puppy! Cute! Furry! Cuddly!" Then I noticed the smell, the rotten garbage smell.
"What's that smell?"
"The puppy."
He had brought home a puppy nigh unto death, full of parasites and scabies (the stench) and with completely round legs from malnutrition.
Because the scabies commanded so much of our attention (quarantine from other house-pets, stinky-stinky etc.), I had rather forgotten about the funky legs until Juliana zeroed in on them while looking at old pictures.
How are Laurel's legs now? Perfectly straight.
Why is this relevant? Laurel is not the only one who joined our family with bent leg bones due to early childhood lack of nutrition.
Edited to add that scabies are not always stinky, but in Laurel's case, they had done so much damage that her skin had started to die, hence the stench.
Just got this link for the MarKuel, our first home with our children in Russia.
I read Cloudscome's blog; she posts about worthy things - world concerns, quality children's literature, poetry. I post about fluffy little girl's clothes. This has been bothering me. What happened to the old me that cared about the outside world?
My analysis is that the outside world is rather bleak and sleety and whenever I go into it I walk the zombie-lined halls of a nursing home and I'm just not up to it. On the other hand, sweet little girl's dresses speak of spring, sunshine, happy play-filled afternoons, a bright giggle-filled future. I've decided that I'm not shallow, I'm just over-whelmed.
So, on that note:
okay, so I do admit I'm in a rough patch right now. Chocolate consumption is up and the on-line shopping has commenced. Here is my fav:
Andy is trying to learn to read and he is very impatient with the phonics. La-Le-Li-Lo-Lu: he could not care less. He gives up easily and is not interested. Juliana, on the other hand, is very keen on reading.
Sneaky and devious mom that I am, I told them they could watch VeggieTales as soon as Juliana learns five flashcards. Andy is in there industriously teaching her La-Le-Li-Lo-Lu. I am doing my work and snickering up my sleeve.
She sings all the time. This morning's song:
I love my mama.
Yes I do.
I love my mama.
Yes I do.
My Ruskie mama.
No I eat.
My Ruskie mama.
No I eat.
I love my mama.
Eat. Eat. Eat.
I love my mama.
Eat. Eat. Eat.
My mama loves me.
Eat. Eat. Eat.
My mama loves me.
Eat. Eat. Eat.
My Ruskie mama . . .
I didn't get to follow through with my dance class as Jamie started working pre-turn-around overtime every Thursday night. I don't know the real reason why a refinery shut-down is called a turn-around; we've always thought it's because the workers drive home and then turn-around and go back to work, which is certainly what he did last night: home a 11 and back to work at 7 am. Anyway, my plan to maintain (regain?) mental health with an hour of stretching and pretty music fell through, so I went the chemical route. Lexapro.
I tend to get murky and unhappy during the long dreary soggy winters we have (who wouldn't?), so I have used anti-depressants a few other years and they always made me pudgy. So this time I bought a digital scale to help keep pudginess at bay. I was quickly losing the right to call it pudge and was about to have to use the F word; you know, the one that rhymes with hat. Since Lexapro I've lost 15 pounds! Add that to the 10 I lost sitting vigil in December with Dad and I am nearing my target weight/size. Now if that doesn't cheer a girl up, what will?
In addition, my lovely mother-in-law has come up for the long weekend (Jamie is in full turn-around now, 12-14 hrs a day for months). It is so nice to have another grown-up in the house so that each kid always has somebody. Today she and Juliana went out to lunch and shopping. Poor Andy has a nasty flu. On Sunday he went to his first American birthday party and came home all elated and happy and later all feverish and ill. He is in bed. For every time he sl
Andy is doing very well at his new school. He goes five afternoons a week. It is a really good fit and I am very pleased with the attention and instruction he receives there. His teacher is top-notch and the principal is a lovely example of firm and friendly. Andy is very fond of both of them.
Remember in early Feb when I posted that I had been sick for awhile? I still haven't gotten my voice back. I whisper and croak and am generally inaudible. So, if you are a face-to-face friend feeling sad or neglected cause I never call (not that I ever did anyway), do know that I am living a forced phone-free life right now. The kids and I are learning sign language so that we can get by. I'm not joking about this. We have yes, no, kleenex, kitty, dog, more, ouch, food/eat, I love you, telephone, and so on.
Because the discipline in the children’s previous life was so harsh, it has been quite a challenge to come up with strategies that are motivating to the children.
Little chair?
No sweat.
Swat?
No biggie.
Loss of toys?
Oh well.
Spoonful of ketchup?
Oh NO! Anything but that!
About two weeks ago Andy appeared to have decided that there was nothing that we would throw at him that he could not handle, and all sorts of mischief ensued. The most startling was persistent and dramatic chewing-with-mouth-wide open. He never used to do this and was now doing it all the time. We would remind him and he would say okay and then do it again the very next bite. It was looking deliberate. Then ketchup occurred to me.
“No, thank you! Ick!”
“Next time I see your food as you chew, I’ll bring you a spoonful.”
(mouth snaps shut for chewing and remains closed)
For Juliana, peanut butter does the same job. I have a friend who uses vinegar.
This morning I saw Andy lift his arm to hit his sister and then stop.
“Andy, what helped you remember to not hit?”
“I don’t want ketchup.”
So, Andy and I were driving in to see my Dad the other day and we were talking about the ketchup and how good it has been at helping Andy remember. He wanted to know if Grandpa knew about the ketchup. Yes. Andy did not like this. He fussed about it quite a bit.
“I’m angry you told Grandpa my secrets.” he said.
“Are you angry that I told him about the ketchup? Or that I told him that you had not-nice behavior?”
“Not-nice behavior.”
“Are you afraid that Grandpa won’t like you if he knows about your not-nice behavior?”
“Yes.”
I pull the car over.
“Andy, this is what is so cool about having a family. Families can know all your nice parts and all your not nice parts and still love you. Grandpa knows all my nice parts and all my not nice parts and he still loves me. That’s what families do. It’s really lovely.”
“Oh.”
“That’s what Jesus does too. He loves us even though we have nice parts and not nice parts. He’s part of our family.”
“Oh”
“Did you know that families love that way?”
“No”
“So Grandpa can know about your good days and about your bad days and he just loves you big time.”
(quiet)
“What do you think?”
“It’s okay to tell Grandpa.”
in no particular order . . .
* Andy starts his new school tomorrow. We are enrolling him in the private school I attended, known for its vigilent approach to character issues such as respect and obey.
* Jamie starts a turn-around next week. This is when a refinery is shut-down for maintenance and work is carried on 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, for several months. Jamie will be working 14 hour shifts, as he is the supervisor and has to overlap the crews that work mere 12 hour shifts. He gets a mandatory day off on the 52nd consecutive work day. So, I'll be pretty much parenting solo.
* I've been sick for over a week which means I can't go see my Dad which is a sorrow for me. Dad is, reportedly, much better.
* We have a new dog, Bear, who is staying with us while Dad gets better. He is a sweet dog and fits in nicely with our other dogs and has even learned to not chase the kitties. He regularly breaks into the goat corral where Betsy, the bearded lady goat, roundly trounces him.
* The lovely week of sunshine has come to an end and the more typical grey dreary bitterly cold days have returned.
* We are filing our post-placement reports and getting ready to start the Washington State readoption process. The sole reason for doing this is getting Washington birth certificates for the kids. In the event that they ever need to get a copy of their birth certificate, it is much easier to do this locally than to apply to Russia for one.
The kids recently told me that when they first got to our house they snuck pieces of kitty food and ate it. They apparently ran to the bathroom to spit it out. In the first few days they didn't see the kitties at all, so the little bowls of food around the house had looked like people-snacks to them. Blech.
I've discovered that DVDs and laptops are the best thing ever if, for example, you need to take your children with you to your staff meeting or to your father's nursing home. Whilst watching Muppets in Space yesterday, Andy was surprised to hear Russian spoken. The English-speaking muppets go to space to find that some other muppets are already there. And what language do these other first-in-space mupponauts speak? Russian of course.
My heavens, there is so much that a Mama needs to know. This week I learned about the Fifth Disease, a common rash of childhood that Andy has brought to our attention. He is not ill, in that he feels fine and is not running a fever, but the rash on his face is not cute.
the very condensed version of our lives
Sometime in the near future, we will hit 40,000. If you are the one that clicks us over the top, please comment and let us know who you are and something interesting or amusing about you.
Just to clarify, and in response to a few emails and comments:
I started out moving the candy from their bags into a little pile for me, but they decided that I was really just interested in acquiring their candy for personal gain, so I rerouted it into the bag of the sibling.
Prior to the candy incentive, Juliana would 'help' by reminding him, which really didn't help, as it was just another external monitor. Under the new deal, she has a selfish reason to not help him, which, in the long run, actually helps him. He has so radically upped his ability to self-monitor, that he actually loses very few pieces to his sis. She has lost about the same number to him (fingers-in-plate is her pet foible), so it evens out.
I do appreciate your cautions about setting them against each other and I move very carefully in this regard.
So, I know I may be a bit stricter than most, but it is really important to me that our children have decent table manners. Their previous care-giver felt the same apparently, as the children tell us that she constantly reminded them to hold their forks nicely. Well, I am tired of constantly reminding and would like for the kids to remember this -- and a few other things (swallow before talking, keep your fingers out of your plate) -- on their own.
Christmas brought us a lot of candy which has been stashed into labeled ziplock bags and dispensed in wee portions. The bags have joined us at the table and are wonderful. Each time someone slips in one of the three key areas, one of their pieces of candy leaves their bag and arrives in their sibling's bag. It is amazing. Andy used to need umpteen fork reminders per meal; tonight he needed none.
I think that helping Andy build an internal monitor of behavior is one of the hardest parts. He has before never needed internal control, as his previous environment provided plenty of external control. He frankly states that he shouldn't have to remember things as that is my job to remind him. When candy is on the line, however, he gets motivated.
(this is an old post that somehow got saved as a draft rather than actually posted. I'll post it now as I have nothing else to say on this blog. All my energies are with my Dad right now.)
Someone with whom I share a home, the same someone that I usually call my Gift From a Generous God, does have one flaw. He chews gum. I hate gum. I hate finding it in the washer and even more hate finding it in the dryer. I hate finding it on the furniture and I hate finding it on our shoes. I really hate finding it in our son's mouth when I know darn well that no-one has given our son a stick of gum, but that instead he has found it somewhere.
At least I know that today's gum had only been in my hubby's mouth prior to Andy's; unlike the time in the Moscow airport when we both realized that he was chewing, and we had not given. EWWWWwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.
Juliana got tired of waiting for me to trim her bangs, so she did it herself. About a quarter inch long.
Thank you all so much for your kind words regarding Dad. I'm going to ask that, if you don't know us face-to-face, you comment only on this blog, as I print the other blog for Dad and it's so confusing to him when I try to explain my e-friends. So we'll treat this a place for messages for Suzanne and the other blog as a place for messages for Dad and Mom and family. Does that work?
He lives. His blood pressure was 50/33 and his core temp 80 degrees. Both of these are indicators of imminent death, yet Dad lives. He is indeed paralyzed, but other than that (and the 8 broken ribs) has no major health issues and is quite strong for a 71 year old. Last night the rehab doc assured him, that other than using a chair and having a rather complicated way of handling waste products, he'll be able to live a relatively normal life: go to church, go to grandkids' sporting events, do many of the things he loves to do. He won't, however, be cutting his own firewood anymore.
related posts: Hard News & What Happened?
We've been working on finding something more pleasant to say when someone gets something we want and we get nothing. We've ruled out saying "ME ME ME ME" and "I want one! I want one!" and decided that saying "I'm happy for you," would be nice. Jamie and I have been role-playing this and the kids have been practicing it in silly ways.
This morning, Juliana showed Andy the very cool mini-flashlight that she acquired yesterday during her big day in Seattle. You have to know that for Andy-The-Gizmo-Kid, there is nothing more attractive than an item that has both buttons and lights. With shaking voice he looked at it and said, "I'm happy for you Juliana." Then he burst into tears.
I'm so proud of him! I buried him in hugs and told him what a good boy he was.
In the orphanage they didn't give things to children unless they had one for everyone, or if it was a shared item. The idea of one child having a private possession and the other child not having is a big new concept. We are so pleased that they are accepting it.
Yesterday we went to Children's to see a doctor who said that Juliana was tiny. We are seeing a series of specialists who are all ruling out bad things, so it is rather good that all the doc has to say is that she is very small. We don't want the doc coming into say that she has some really interesting and unusual condition. But still, driving all that way to hear that she is little seems a bit unproductive.
My mom went with us and we redeemed the drive by going to Bellevue. We stopped in to visit my Father-in-law at work who was very pleased to see us. Then we went to the mall and rode the glass elevator up and down and waved at all the giant snowman and gasped at the flying reindeer and visited the LUSH store. We tried very hard to visit Trader Joe's, but after an hour of driving (slow progress due to street-lights being out), we got there only to find them without power and closed. They couldn't sell anything, as neither their tills nor fridges were working, but they did have a little generator going to keep the lights on; they kindly let us in so that Juliana could use the bathroom. At long last, I finally got into a Trader Joe's, I just didn't get to buy anything.
So that is all the news. Part of my long lull in posting was a case of the blues brought on by the return of Holly's cancer. Surgery is on Friday.
Not much I can report. We are all fine. I'll post more when I'm feeling articulate and interesting.
Last Saturday we went and got our tree at our favorite tiny little tree farm in the foothills. On Sunday, we decorated the tree with all the wooden and cloth kid-friendly ornaments I have been acquiring for years. Andy and Juliana loved decorating the tree and have added 'make the house pretty' to their daily list of that for which they are thankful.
We don't currently have a working audio system in the house (long story) so we were decorating without music. This seems just wrong and I commented upon it. Juliana then started singing "Jesus loves me". What better music could I wish for?
We did the letter "B" last week:
"Ball. Banana. Bunnies. Bread. Breakfast. Baby." I said.
"Mama doesn't like babies," Andy replied.
"Yes I do! Why do you think that?"
"Why did you give me to the detskydom (orphanage)?"
All this time he has thought I parked him there for six years because I didn't like babies. The amazing thing is that he 'welcomed me back' with open arms and heart. After I explained that I was a new Mama on the scene he said it was very sad that we had had to wait so long. "I needed you," he said. "I was a sad baby. I needed you no bolshoy padashdi (big wait)."
I'm sure the school can do a more efficient job of teaching him his letters, but if I let them do it all, I'd miss conversations like that one.
| THE WORLD is charged with the grandeur of God. | |
| It will flame out, like shining from shook foil; | |
| It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil | |
| Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod? | |
| Generations have trod, have trod, have trod; | 5 |
| And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil; | |
| And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil | |
| Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod. | |
| And for all this, nature is never spent; | |
| There lives the dearest freshness deep down things; | 10 |
| And though the last lights off the black West went | |
| Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs— | |
| Because the Holy Ghost over the bent | |
| World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings. |
If you are familiar with LeapPad's alphabet video, you'll know the tune to these lyrics, slightly modified by Andy and Juliana:
The Mama says Obey.
The Mama says Obey.
Everybody makes a sound.
The Mama says Obey.
The Papa says Obey.
The Papa says Obey.
Everybody makes a sound.
The Papa says Obey.
The Detsky say Okay.
The Detsky say Okay.
Everybody makes a sound.
The Detsky say Okay.
We really like it that our cats are mousers. Living in a 1924 farm cottage in open acerage in a cold spell as we are, we are bound to have a mouse in the house, or maybe two or three. So we do appreciate the cats' diligence and we have even come to accept that they will play with their prey. We do wish they wouldn't do so on our bed. While we are still in the bed. Sleeping.
In the birthday report, I shared that we purchased a book titled Annie and the Wild Animals. I bought it because I loved the illustrations. Tonight, while searching for some flashcards and coloring sheets to help Juliana with her numbers, I found that the illustrator, Jan Brett, graciously shares her artwork on-line. You can find days of the week coloring sheets, numbers trace alongs, the whole alphabet to color and trace and a lot more.
If you are home-schooling, you want these. Even if you are not home-schooling, these are a delightful way to augment whatever is happening at preschool or kindergarten.
We are officially starting to homeschool on Friday, December 1. We'll start opening the advent calendar and do everything around the number 1 and the letter A on Friday. I just can't resist matching the curriculum to the calendar.
Well the neighborhood is no longer trapped by drifts and Jamie was able to go to work today. We very much enjoyed him being home with us yesterday. The wind blew hard all day and kept us indoors so we amused ourselves by watching bully trucks get stuck in the drifts in front of our house. One truck off-loaded its passengers into our living room while they worked to get unstuck. Imagine our surprise when our unexpected guests spoke Russian! The family immigrated years ago and the children speak English at school and Russian at home. From them I was able to add to my vocabulary the Russian words for "tell the truth" and "don't lie". Very handy words.
My laundry room is a balmy 40 degrees Fahrenheit today, up from the 18 degrees F yesterday.
updated to add that it is snowing again and we are expecting another six inches. Eeeps.
It's this snowy:
(all you Alaskans can snicker; for us this is a big deal.)
It is so cold in my laundry room that the clothes I left overnight in the washer were frozen. The pipes, however, are not. Yet.
Okay, so if you are in a restaurant and they bring you clam chowder and you think," hmmm, it's yummy, but something is wrong here", pursue that thought! Don't let yourself get distracted with portioning out the children's plates or with the conversation at hand. Stop and ask yourself, "what is wrong?" You will then have a chance of noticing that it is clam chowder at room temperature and then your Master Food Preserver and Safety Advisor training will kick in and inform you that a dairy and seafood dish must be kept piping hot for food safety reasons. Once you realize this, you will refrain from eating the soup and save yourself from hours of misery. Trust me on this; I learned it the hard way.
Late last month I commented to my sister that I wasn't even sure we could do Thanksgiving as the children were so wild and Andy's hands were so busy touching everything he saw. I imagined a stress-filled day full of jumpy parents and lots of discipline. Wrong again!
We had a lovely dinner at my Mom and Dad's. We ate off of china on a nice tablecloth. The real silverwear and glasses were used. Andy said grace, thanking God for each and every family member. The children used nice table manners. After dinner they played with their cousins (young adults) and enjoyed the crafty project Aunt Christy and Uncle Grape had brought. On the few times we had to remind them of some boundaries (inside voices), they complied. Other than the fact that my brother was away working and I missed him dreadfully, it was a perfect day.
On the way home we dropped by my Aunt and Uncles where we got to see many of my cousins and their children. I thought we would be able to stay only a little while as my children were tired and already over-stimulated. We ended up staying a couple of hours as the children played nicely with their second cousins, obeyed nicely, and were obviously enjoying the visit greatly. At one point Juliana came running over to me to say "I'm happy." She came back to say "fun fun." On the way home Andy thanked me for "horashow egratz with detsky" (good play with children).
While we were there, one of my cousins called his three children to him. They "hurry-hurry-obeyed" (as we call it) and they all put their hands together in the middle of their circle. Andy watched, transfixed. The papa told the children that they would be leaving in ten minutes and reminded them to tidy up and then to say goodbye to their aunts and uncles and grandparents. The children obeyed. Andy was so impressed; he talked about it all the way home. I think he found it reassuring that other familes follow the same pattern of children obeying parents.
The children were also quite impressed that all these new people were also their family. "Bolshoy family" they exclaimed. Yes, they have a huge family including lots of cousins their ages with which to play. We have so much to be thankful for.
What is a Go-to-Sleep-Seeing, you may ask. It what you see when you go to sleep. We might call it a dream. I love the creative logic of it. It is so fun to watch my children sort out the language.
Has anyone noticed that scary go-to-sleep-seeing seem to happen during spates of leg cramps? Andy has been getting both recently. I think the leg cramps disturb his sleep cycles which open the door to bad dreams. Just my theory.
In our backyard sits this old red truck which is off-limits to children because the door handles don't work from the inside. Children who disobey are likely to get stuck in the truck. At first they will not mind this, as it is fun to play with the steering wheel and the knobs and buttons. Of course, after awhile, they will want to get out and cannot. There they will sit until Mom comes and a) catches them red-handed and b) reminds them that their good Papa forbade playing in the truck and c) discusses why they think Papa forbade this ("door no open" the children say) and d) sets the timer where the children can see it as they serve their "naughty chair" time in the truck.
After they were freed we had lunch. Andy said grace and added a line to the usual litany. "Thank you for no more truck."
Oh how I love natural consequences.
We are gaining daily. Now when we get to the part about Babushkas and Dedushkas loving her, she will say "Kapecho" (a tiny bit).
We went to Children's Hospital yesterday; my mom came with us to help with the driving as I am so sleep-deprived due to coughing (yeah Mom!). Anyway, we were able to see the x-rays of her legs. You can actually see the bone starting to grow on the inside of curves. The medical team there is very hopeful that her legs will straighten without surgical intervention. We'll be back down there next month for another check-in. It's a lovely hospital; very patient-friendly with easy parking and pleasant spaces.
Across the street from Children's is a very nice shopping center, the sort that I browse but don't purchase from. Mom and I and Juliana had lunch at a white-table-cloth Italian restaurant. We had a really nice time; Mom and I got to visit and Juliana didn't disturb the other diners while she ate all her lunch, thus qualifying for ice cream. It was really lovely. If you had asked me two months ago if I would be able to take do this, I would have said "Maybe in a year". It's nice to be wrong.
We are enjoying great progress with Juliana recently. She has started to approach me and ask "Please Mama hug." She backed into my mom the other day for a snuggle. She crawled up onto her napping Papa twice for snuggles. None of these last for long, but we are so pleased that she is initiating. She is also better able to give hugs and snuggles when asked, though they are quite brief as she is clearly mistrustful of affection and love.
But it gets better. I've long been asking "who loves Juliana?" and her answer is always "nyeto (no-one)" Then I go through the long list of family members who love her and ignore her disclaimers. Yesterday it went like this.
Mama: Who loves Juliana?
Juliana: Nyeto
M: Mama loves Juliana.
J: Da (yes), Mama loves Juliana. (!)
M: Papa loves Juliana.
J: Da (yes), Papa loves Juliana. (!!)
M: Dedushka loves Juliana.
J: Nyet (No).
and so on . . .
but she has gone from zero to two! That is a lot!
Jamie and I leapt out of bed this morning and after slaying a few housekeeping dragons, whipped together the following:
Bom bom bomabity bom bom.
The lights came back on around 3ish on Thursday and there was much rejoicing around our house. There was also quite a bit of laundry, dishes, and bathing going on.
Andy's school news:
Today Jamie and I are sharing an early Thanksgiving meal with Grandma Carol -- Jamie's Mom. Grandpa will not be with us as he is at the side of his recently bereaved brother. Jamie is wrestling with the turkey as I type and the children will help me make pies after breakfast. My sister gave us a darling Thanksgiving sticker book which we read and stickered this morning. The children have now some clue of what Thanksgiving is: "bolshoy chicken and pie".
What is even more fun than being sick with kids? Being sick with kids without power, which means
. . . but not quite living either. Today was Andy's first day of school and I have been too sick to even find out how it went. Many thanks to my Dad who came over and kept the children safe and entertained as I collapsed on arrival.
Thank you all for your ideas. I think I had neglected to mention that we don't have television channels here. We have a TV that is connected to the DVD player and that is it. Alas, no Sesame Street for us. But wait! I have an idea (runs off to Google something). Why yes, we do have Sesame Street.
This evening we had a wonderful first. Juliana and I were in the kitchen, from whence we could see Jamie relaxing by the fire in the living room. Papa, ya tebya lu-blue, I-love-you, she called out. As far as I know, this is the first time that she has initiated an I-love-you.
As I sat and stroked her cheek to help her fall asleep this evening I realized that both kids seem to be attaching well. I reflected for awhile on the reasons for this. The first and foremost is of course the Grace and Mercy of God. We've also done a lot of little things that I am sure have helped; I'll share some with you and I hope you will share some with me.
I try to touch their cheeks and palms and the soles of their feet as often as I can. We just work it into the daily routines.
When I need to discipline them by putting them in the malinky-stuhl (little chair), I present it as a whole-family sadness. I'm sad for them, their sibling is sad, he or she is sad. We are all sad that he or she has to sit in the malinky stuhl . As a family, we empathize with each other about how un-fun it is to sit there. After the required number of minutes, I arrive at the chair and sit down and ask him or her why they are in the chair. They tell me. I ask them if it is nice or happy or fun to be in the chair. They say no, of course. I ask them which is better: not obeying and sitting in the chair or obeying and not sitting in the chair. Of course, they pick obeying. Then their chair time is over and we are all happy for them. Even though I am the enforcer of chair time, and the one who determines the duration, they focus on the fact that I am sad with them and that I too hope for no chair time. After chair time, no matter how small, we have a very big snuggle. We just recently went out and bought a very big chair expressly for snuggling in.
In a couple of other posts (this one and this one) I mentioned that Juliana has trouble with being scared at night. The minute we would leave the room she would start to whimper and it would work up to a full wail. We tried lots of thing and nothing really worked but I do think we have stumbled on the path to peaceful bedtimes.
The first thing we did was stop trying to talk her out of being scared. This may seem like a no-brainer, but it took us awhile. We had been trying to focus her attention on the big papa, barky dogs, fenced yard, etc. This helped a teeny tiny bit. Then we figured out how to use what she wanted (for us to stay) to get what we wanted (for us to be able to leave and go to bed ourselves). I taught her how to make hand puppets out of her fingers. One finger is Scared Juliana. She says "I'm scared." The other finger is Mama y Papa's Juliana. She says "Wait, good mama (or papa) will come." We tuck them in and remind her that, if after a short interval we hear no whimpering or crying, I will come back and pat her until she falls asleep. The first few times I just sat in the hall and waited to hear her breathing change and then returned so that she could feel as if she had been successful. I didn't want her to break into a cry and have to do without us.
Anyway, we have been stretching the interval so that she is settled for about 15 minutes now and when I do come back, she can fall asleep very quickly. I think hearing herself affirm that she is in a good place and that we will not disappear -- hearing herself affirm this, not hearing it from us -- is settling her, and of course is super for attachment as she is practicing the ability to believe in us.
The other trick is that when I am there to pat her, I only pat if her eyes are closed. If her eyes are open we exchange I love you-s. After a few of these, she gets a bit uncomfortable. I think it is a bit too intimate for her, so she closes her eyes again. Every night though, she can take a few more I love you-s before she closes her eyes. With her eyes closed, the pats resume and soon she is asleep, nestled into the covers and layers of physical love, visual love, and auditory love.
I'd love to hear your attachment and parenting tricks and tips.
er uhm . . . thank you to Aunt Ruby (she who must be obeyed) for the lovely card and books. We are quite delayed in our thank you notes; I think I just sent out the ones from early October. We haven't yet opened the books as we are saving them for the Christmas Tree, but knowing Aunt Ruby, they will be awesome books.
Have I ever told you how awesome and clever and good-looking my cousin Jenny is? And she has excellent taste in gifts, bringing both this (which the children love) and a lovely LUSH facial (ayesha) which is the key to looking fresh and perky when one is actually weary and bedraggled. It is one of my favorite things, and cannot be acquired in the US through mail order. Yeah Jenny!
One of the adoptive parenting groups that I belong to shared this helpful article by Debbie Jeffrey on how to help my busy boy settle down. I've cut-and-pasted it here, as the webpage version printed very strangely. If you want to print it, you can cut-and-paste from here into your word-processing program. I hope I've put in enough links that will direct enough traffic to Debbie Jeffrey's pages that she will overlook my copyright liberties.
"Everybody" used to tell us that all boys go wild, and that's what they needed.
I must admit, it didn't work too well for our kids - they'd come back still chomping at the bit, and with enough energy for another hundred blocks. It got them out of the house and away from a mother who was about to blow her stack, and that was useful. But that's about all.
Sometimes "everybody" gets it wrong.
We suffered their hyperactive behaviour for years, managing it by dosing ourselves with large quantities of bourbon and paracetamol (sorry), until my reading finally helped me to figure out what was going on for them, and what we, as parents, could do about it.
In my article on hyperactivity, I wrote about how the brains of young children who've experienced trauma or disruption actually get stuck in the fear response. As a result, their brains shift very easily into a "fight or flight" mode. So they get aroused and "hyper" very quickly, and sometimes in response to things that you or I wouldn't normally think of as stressful. These children sometimes look like they have ADHD. What they have is actually more like Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.
This understanding is relevant to adoptive families because disruption early on in life - like separation from birth mother and changes in caregivers - can be quite traumatic. We expect adopted babies to cope with it; however some children seem more sensitive to it than others. Added to this initial trauma that all adopted children experience, many of the children who we adopt at an older age have experienced abuse and neglect. This typically causes the changes to brain and behaviour of which I'm writing.
Thus, I came to realise that my kids, adopted at an older age and who do have problems related to early trauma and attachment difficulties, were hyperaroused. What they needed was quiet and calm to help their brains settle down - not more physical exertion. Asking my kids to go for a run was revving them up, not settling them.
In the last few years, I've developed a different attitude and learned some calming strategies, based on this understanding.
So how does a parent develop a calming attitude?
When your child is being hyperactive, fidgety, argumentative, loud and silly, even overly anxious, think of his brain as being hyperaroused and out of control. He lacks the ability to self-soothe. His environment needs, ideally, to be low on stress and stimulation and high on parental contact and calm.
I find myself using these principles, to a lesser extent, even with my relatively well-balanced biological child. When she's overanxious or tantrumming, I can see that, from another perspective, she's stressed and out-of-control. Her brain has reverted to a more immature level of thinking - she can't calm herself down, she can't problem-solve, her behaviour is escalating, and she needs the soothing influence of a parent to get it together. So the strategies I'm about to explain can be helpful for all kids.
I like to think of two guiding principles.
(1)Lower the stimulation level.
(2)Time-In (keeping your child close).
Let me explain.
(1)Lowering the stimulation level.
Why? It keeps your child aroused and stressed. Loud music, screaming and yelling are pretty obvious examples (don't you find that you get on edge when people are screaming at each other?). Less obvious ones are lots of unstructured physical exercise, TV (especially cartoons), video games, incessant talking, and crowds of people. I mention video games and cartoons because they contain lots of fast-changing images, and sometimes violent themes.
When your child is hyped up or anxious, keep those things to a minimum. This is not the time to take her for a visit to a theme park or send him out for a water fight with the neighbourhood kids.
How? What can you do instead?
First, when she flies off the handle over something trivial, don't argue with her. You can't reason with someone who's stressed, frightened, hyperactive - do that later, when she's settled. Be sympathetic but firm, and stay calm. Say to her, quite directly, "You're hyped up, and you need to calm down. I know what you need."
Find some quiet activities, preferably some that involve sitting and concentrating. Simple craft activities are great. If hyperactivity is a frequent problem with your child, it's worth having a box of stuff that you've pre-prepared to bring out at these times.
Some practical suggestions: drawing and colouring; jigsaws; playing with playdough (even my teenagers still love this); stringing beads; knitting; Lego; cutting and pasting (collage for older kids); chalk drawing on the driveway; playing with toys in the bath; puzzles such as word searches and simple crosswords; Hama beads (for older kids); finger-knitting. Your child should be doing these things alone or in your company only.
If your child is really hyped up, of course, it'll be hard to get him to concentrate on anything, so before you try these things, you might need to start with some of the "time-in" strategies suggested in the next section. However if you learn to read the signs that he's getting out of control, you may be able to stop his behaviour escalating - "nip it in the bud" - by trying some of the above ideas.
(2)Time-In
Time-in means keeping kids close to you when they're anxious or being troublesome.
Why? For healthy, well-attached children, it's very comforting to have mum or dad close when they're stressed. (And if your child doesn't feel comforted by having you close, then you need to actively encourage her to stay close - it'll help the attachment process). Remember, when they're stressed and aroused, their brains have reverted to an immature level of functioning. Babies need to be close to their parents. Research is showing us that, for a young child, just being physically close to a parent will increase the levels of calming hormones in her brain, and decrease the stress hormones. Physical contact is even better.
I know that it goes against the grain, in our culture, to keep our kids close when they're misbehaving, so this may require a significant shift in your thinking. Typically we like to send them away - to their rooms, to time-out - because we think this will decrease stimulation (which it kind of does), give them "thinking time", and get them out of our hair (which is sometimes, after all, necessary). We like to think our kids should calm themselves down independently of us.
But the trouble with time-out is that because it is so isolating, it actually increases the child's stress. It raises levels of stress hormones such as cortisol and adds to a child's sense of aloneness. It rarely works as "thinking time", because when a child is feeling stressed and upset, he's not very good at problem-solving.
Let's be realistic, sometimes parents need to do it when they're really at their wit's end and going spare. But I've come to realise that keeping your child close is a much better way, when you can manage it, of calming him down, de-stressing him, helping him to think rationally once again.
Your child needs you to be stronger, wiser, calmer and more in control than she. Keeping her close when she's hyperactive or stressed won't make her dependent on you. It increases her feelings of security and trust and, in so doing, actually builds connections in her brain. When she feels calm and secure she'll be confident enough to break away, to explore and develop independence.
I know that being around hyperactive, stressed out kids makes you, as a parent, feel on edge and stressed out. But I found that, when I started to make a habit of time-in rather than time-out, I started to feel more in control myself, and it was easier for me to stay calm. It probably won't happen at first, so "fake it 'til you make it". And when you do have the occasional bust-out and blow your stack, forgive yourself.
How? How do you practise time-in? Here are some ideas:
- Have him do some of the activities suggested above, while close to you, e.g. sitting on the floor or at the table next to you.
- Get her to help you with the housework, alongside you. e.g. wiping walls, hanging out the washing.
- Have him help with cooking. Baking biscuits (cookies)is great - grab some pre-prepared dough from the fridge section of the supermarket, which makes it easy to bake on the spur of the moment.
- Have her just sit on the floor next to you.
- Sit and read to him.
- Play some finger games (e.g. "Where is thumbkin?") or singing games with you.
- When he's up to it - hugs and cuddles and rocking. Hold your child like you would a baby, across your lap with his head in your left arm, get him looking in your eyes and talk or sing to her. Holding like this, especially with eye contact, engages the right side of the brain, which is the part that regulates emotion. It's what mothers automatically do with their babies, and scientists have only recently begun to figure out why. It's very soothing, and it helps to develop the parts of the brain that regulate emotion. You can be quite direct in how you explain it to your child: "Here's what we're going to do. Some kids find this very relaxing." With an adopted or foster child, you might even say, "We didn't get to do this when you were a baby. So we're going to do it now."
- Strong Sitting. This is another very powerful tool for settling kids. I consider it about as close as you can get to meditation for children. I've been told that you can teach children to meditate, but I've never been able to teach my wild kids to do so (funny ...)I have, however, been able to get them to strong sit. It seems to help the brain shift gears, to engage the rational, thinking side that moderates strong emotions. Here's what you do.
The child sits quietly, cross-legged, on the floor, with her back unsupported, eyes open, mouth closed, hands comfortably in her lap, nothing to fiddle with. The aim is for her to eventually sit for one minute for every year of his life (i.e. a 5 year old would sit for 5 minutes).
You need to build up the length of time the child can do it, so start with just a small amount of time - even 30 seconds is good. Try to do it 2 to 3 times a day, and make sure your child is with you when he does it. While you're cooking dinner is a good time, or sitting doing paperwork. I set the timer on the stove for my son, and if he breaks the silence, or starts moving and fidgeting, he has to start again. He's learned (eventually) not to break it, which also makes it a good exercise in self-discipline. Surprisingly, he now does it with a minimum of fuss when I ask him, which tells me that he must recognise, at some level, that it helps him.
In conclusion: If you have a wild child, start by limiting the time she spends in stimulating activities. Monitor the amount of time he has with TV and video games. Recognise the signs that she's becoming hyperaroused, and redirect her attention to quiet, calming activities before she really starts losing it. This is helpful even for the not-so-wild distressed child. Make sure he spends plenty of time in close proximity to you and has plenty of physical contact with you. Do your best to stay cool and, in time, your wild child will be calmer, and you'll both be more in control.
- Debbie Jeffrey
Andy had a great birthday weekend. After birthday lunch and cake and his cool present (kid's digital camera), we headed for town.
We visited MindPort and were very happy that we did not have to leave early (this time) as no one fiddled with the lightswitches nor turned off all the displays.
From there we visted The Fairhaven Toy Garden from whence we had been blessed with gift certificate. They have lovely toys including HABA toys, which are the coolest ever. We've recently received several generous gift-checks which we plan to spend on Christmas gifts at the toy garden. We were absolutely thrilled that our obedient children sweetly asked if they could touch stuff and accepted with grace when we had to say no, though we said yes as often as we could.
We then visited our local independent bookstore and with another blessing of a gift certificate, bought Brown Bear Brown Bear, What do you see? and Annie and the Wild Animals and Olivia. I was super happy that we ran into two of my colleagues and that they could meet the children.
We had dinner out and then home for bubble baths and a Mr. Bean movie and one more round of presents . Each child got a costume thanks to the Old Navy post-Halloween sale. These have become the official television-watching garb. Not that we watch any TV, just videos, and not even many of those, but the children don their official grab on the mere whisper of a hope.
On Sunday we went to church and then to my parent's home for Birthday Brunch with Aunt Christy, Uncle Grape, Uncle Tim, and my Uncle Chuck. He received several nice gifts (books and cupcakes of his very own). We took lots of pictures to share with you until we misplaced the camera. Whoops.
Option C, which arrived after the voting but resolves the problems of the first too. I didn't like the eye-hole in Option A nor the blockiness of Option B.
Today when I went to pick up Andy, his little face lit up with joy when he saw me. This has never happened before. Usually, when reunited, he looks a bit peeved. I can't tell you how encouraging this is, that he rejoices to see his mama.
Over lunch, we were counting who loves him. We did Mama and Papa and Juliana and the two sets of Grandparents and the Aunt and Uncles (10 thus far) and then moved onto the pets, who are mostly paired. To my utter shock Andy said 12, 14, 16!! Counting by twos? We didn't teach this. All we have taught is the names of numbers, not even the shapes of the written number. Andy: boy genius.
In other news, we received the children's certs of citizenship in the mail this week, so know I can apply for social security cards and then passports and then, at last, make the trip to IKEA! My nearest IKEA is in Canada, just north of us.
Today was the "trial" day at preschool and I am happy to say that we were indeed invited back. Juliana is invited back for the group we were in today, and Andy is invited back for an other day that has older kids. We all agree that he is a bit old for today's group. We are also looking into one-day-a-week kindergarten for him.
The preschool is FOUR minutes from our home at the local community Baptist church and meets on Tuesday and Thursday mornings for Juliana and Friday mornings for Andy. Juliana didn't actually make any friends, but she and two other little girls moved en masse from play station to play station today: sort of a side-by-side group play dynamic.
In other happy news, the children seem to have absorbed the relationship between being very quiet in the morning and having a jolly good-natured Mom. Yesterday I only heard one loud plonk and a loud SHHHHHHH; today I heard nothing. Their clock radio goes on at 8:00 and that is the cue for coming downstairs and making noise. In addition to me getting my much needed last hour of sleep, Juliana also gets a bit more, as Andy wakes up around 7 and had been in the habit of waking her up too.
In even more happy news, we found the Russian word for "obey" and were able to have a long conversation about children's jobs (obeying) and parent's jobs (earning money and buying grapes, according to Andy). Today my parents did the second half of pre-school trial and then brought the children home; they were happy to be able to report that the children obeyed. This has not always been the case. I am feeling hopeful again.
I found a useful website that has some good advice about sensible parenting, specifically about training in obedience and then most of the other training is done. While reading the website, I realized that has been my worry: if we can't instill obedience, there is no end to the troubles and anxieties ahead. When we get obedience in place, we can enjoy more and fret less.
Very happy to move families from the Families in Waiting blogroll to the Kids are Home! blogroll.
option A
option BDon't you just love it when, on a balmy and pleasant Saturday afternoon you or your husband take the screens off, wash the windows, and put the storm windows up and then the very next day a cold front blows in and there is fresh snow in the foothills and the temperature drops to 34 degrees and you are inside all snug and smug 'cause your storms are up? Oh, this has never happened to you? Well it has never happened to us either, until now. Yes, Jamie beat the first deep chill of winter. Yeah Jamie!!
Something about having the storms up makes me feel secure and cozy. I want to make soup and bake apple treats and pull out the woolie sweaters.
I'll try to take a picture of Mt Baker for y'all today. He is wearing his new clean coat of snow and twinkling in the sun. Here's a bit of local lore for you:
The Lummi, who live near the Canadian border, cast Rainer as the jealous wife of Mount Baker. Rainer was the favorite of Baker’s two wives, but she had an awful temper. After a while the younger wife, Mount Shuksan, with her kind disposition, became the shine of Baker’s eye. Furious, Rainer threatened to leave unless Baker showed her more attention. When Baker ignored her, she made good her threat and traveled south, alone and slow. After a distance she looked back,expecting Baker to call her home. He did not. A little farther, she looked again. Still nothing. With a heavy heart she continued on and camped for the night on the highest hill in the land. She stretched and stretched to see Baker and her children, until she stood higher than all the mountains around. But Baker did not call her home. “Often on a clear day or clear night,” says the narrator, “the mountain dresses in sparkling white and looks with longing at Baker and the mountain children near him” (p. 22-23).
Barcott, Bruce. The Measure of a Mountain. Seattle: Sasquatch Books, 1997.
We have been so busy living our new lives that we’ve not had time to document it. So many things to report, so little time. Here then is a random selection from our last nine days, no particular order.
Children’s Hospital, Everett Clinic is quite nice. They provide valet parking and there is a nice coffee shop and free internet. We learned that Juliana’s bent leg is from Vitamin D deficiency which is needed for proper calcium absorption. Wait. We already knew that. We learned that Orthopedics only documents changes, and that we need to see Endocrinology to get her on high doses of vitamin supplements. Wait, we are already doing that. We learned that the Outlet Centers in
Andy had a wonderful day while Juliana and I were at the clinic. Dedushka took him to
Juliana got her glasses last week. She wears them without being reminded and they apparently help a lot. We are very glad that we got a back-up pair, as we have already had a breakage.
We had a lovely dinner at my sister’s home. Her dear husband cooked us an awesome meal and gave me an acupressure treatment. Sister took the children for a walk and sang them silly songs. We left feeling blessed and fortified.
The dryer died. In the last three years we have replaced the water heater, the washer, the dryer, the fridge, and the dishwasher. It’s as if the appliances are in cahoots. Bank account low? Time for an appliance to die.
We have had a rather rough week. Two steps forward, three steps back. We knew that post-institutional children often regress in their toilet habits. On paper, we accepted this as part of the package. Living it out, on the other hand, is a whole different thing. I stood in the diaper aisle of Walmart absolutely dazzled by the array of diaper choices and absolutely amazed that I was about to buy some. I thought we had cleverly side-stepped the whole diaper thing.
Let’s see, what else have we been doing? We go to the doctor/dentist/vet/specialist at least once a week. I have meeting for school at least once a week. We try to have outings, but they are often aborted.
It’s not been a particularly happy period. We are tired. I think the children are tired. Everything is so hard, for us, and for them.
The children just presented me with a baby slug. They wanted to know if it was safe to pet, or if it would bite them. I am so pleased that they thought to inquire. I told them they could pet it, but they had to do so outside. They then asked if they could keep it as a pet. No, we are not accepting new pets, particularly not slugs. EWWWWwwww.
Instead of climbing into her high-chair (yes she is 5, but physically, she is 3, so we need a high-chair) this morning, Juliana crawled into my arms for a long snuggle. So, I taught the word snuggle. "Mama likes to snuggle; Papa likes to snuggle; Babushka y Dadadushka like to snuggle," the children recited their list of known snugglers. "Jesu Christo likes to snuggle." I apparently looked a bit surprised. "Da, destsky scared, Jesu Christo snuggles." (Yes, when children are scared, Jesus Christ snuggles them.)
When I was a child, I knew this about Jesus. I had forgotten.
8:30 am - the children's clock radio goes off which is the signal to come downstairs. The three of us cuddle and giggle in the big bed. This is good.
8:45 -- Juliana commences a royal whine-and-cry because she doesn't like the socks that her brother sweetly went to fetch for her. This earns her a spell in the WhineAndCry chair. She does not like this.
9:00 am -- I go upstairs to check the children's rooms. Children are dressed. Beds are made. Clothes are put away. This is good. I go back downstairs.
10:30 am -- I go back upstairs to find the children pouring water over one another. They are fully dressed and fully soaked, as is the rest of the bathroom. This is not good. I ask them if this is okay behavior at the orphanage. They say no. I ask them if this is okay behavior at Mama and Papa's home. They say no. We all agree that this is not okay behavior.
12:00 -- we head out to do errands. The trip to the park and the ice-cream are cancelled due to soggy bathroom. During our drive, Andy asks, in his nice voice, Please Mama, Detsky Dom. I have never heard him ask for the orphanage except for when he is angry. I ask him if we wants Mama and Papa and Juliana and Andy at the orphanage, or just Andy and Juliana. He says he wants Mama y Papa Dom Y DetskyDom. I ask him if he is sad. He is. We talk about all the people he liked and is sad for. He is sad because he thinks the caregivers are sad because they miss Andy and Juliana. We all agree that there is sadness. We also agree that we are not sad about Child X who regularly beat up Andy. We are happy that he is PacaPaca (bye-bye). This whole interval is very sweet.
4:30 -- Jamie and I hear "If you would like to make a call, please hang up and dial again" on speaker phone from a phone upstairs where Andy is allegedly napping in his bed. I go up. Andy feigns shock and amazement at the strange behavior from the phone which is mysteriously wrapped in a (damp) towel and hidden in the bathroom cabinet. He denys touching it. I place both his hands over his heart and require eye-contact. He confesses. I thank him. This is the first time he has been truthful with me during a bust. This is encouraging.
5:30 -- Andy learns that the incident of the phone in the nap has cost him his "good nap" sticker. He then loses his yogurt for standing on his chair and trying to eat his yogurt whilst holding it aloft. I think he was envisioning a ceiling-height yogurt dispenser that dispenses yogurt into his awaiting mouth. Whatever. We don't stand on our chairs and hold our food up over our heads. In his frustration over these back-to-back losses, Andy kicks his sister, hard. This is not good. Andy spends quite awhile in the WhiningAndCrying chair, which dual functions as a Naughty Chair.
6:30 -- We find a window open and a screen popped out upstairs. Andy denys everything. I put both hands over his heart again and require eye-contact. His voice shakes as he answers "da" (yes) when I ask if he did this. I thank him for telling me. He is very puzzled. Two truthful admissions in one day. This is very good.
7:00 -- the children race downstairs to show me two important pictures they have found as they looked through the books upstairs. One is of baby Jesus, one is of Christ on the cross. Jesu Christo!! Jesu Christo!! they proclaim. Yes, yes, Jesus Christ, I answer. Christ. Andy stares at me. The light goes on. Christ Amen? he asks. Our children have just now figured out our prayers.
Well, we certainly have learned the hard way why the advice from folks that have BTDT is to limit visitors. We actually thought we were limiting! Every visit triggers a complete rebuilding of the rule-book. The children imagine that the new person is the next shift and are eager to abandon all the rules and regulations of the old shift.
So, we are now realizing that we are not going to be able to add "new" people to their repertoire for awhile. So, we thank you for your patience as we know you want to meet the kiddos, but it really works best for us to hold off for awhile longer.
I've found a way to share pretty music with you. This piece, The Lark Ascending, by Vaughan Williams was inspired in part by the English poet George Meredith (1828-1909). The composer included this portion of Meredith's poem on the flyleaf of the published work:
He rises and begins to round,
He drops the silver chain of sound,
Of many links without a break,
In chirrup, whistle, slur and shake.
For singing till his heaven fills,
‘Tis love of earth that he instils,
And ever winging up and up,
Our valley is his golden cup
And he the wine which overflows
to lift us with him as he goes.
Till lost on his aerial rings
In light, and then the fancy sings.
(!!)
