Postscript to "Bursting My Bubble"
I do have to give Luda more credit than is apparent in my post about our Good Friday service. After telling me she liked sitting for the entire service, she also added that the hymns were good. I was surprised at that, since the hymns were all slow and somber!
Jonathan also told me later that she chose NOT to pick up a child's activity bag before the service. That may have been a first for her. Instead, she paid attention throughout the hour and really worshiped.
Luckily, actions speak louder than words. I'm proud of her.
Another Birthday in absentia
Yesterday was Mikola's 5th birthday. Last year at this time, we thought he would be with us now. God, please grant us patience.
We will celebrate on Monday, when Ruslan returns from his trip to Texas. It will be the third time that our family will celebrate his birthday, but it's been longer for our five children. They last saw Kola when he one year old--still a babe in arms.
We think about him a lot and pray for him every day.
Confession of a 'Spring Break' Mom
We're eating breakfast on my third morning of solo daycare. With four children under age 13, it's been a lively couple of days. Actually, "lively" is putting it mildly.
Two of the kids are coughing pretty badly. I need to give them cough medicine, and there are several bottles from which to choose. Temptation strikes, and I don't resist:
Triaminic--the
night-time formula.
Thank You, Hip Hop
In our life before kids, Jonathan and I loved to spend Sunday afternoons at Borders, sipping coffee and reading. If he wasn't grading papers, Jonathan would tackle the latest volume in the Harry Potter series, while I would browse through a whole batch of books that looked interesting.
When the kids arrived, our leisurely afternoons at Borders came to a grinding halt. In fact, when we managed to get there one time, the cafe had been redecorated. We asked them when the work had been done, and the answer was "six months ago"!
Some of our gift cards have been for Borders, and we first introduced the children to the store by having them buy books there. But we've been angling for months to entice them to sit and read there with us. Finally, last week, we glimpsed our chance!
The younger four children like to read, but Ruslan hasn't yet joined them. He had the most schooling in Ukraine, which makes switching to a new language (especially one as difficult as English) quite a challenge. In his precious free time, he's not about to sit and read--there's enough of that at school!
Ruslan received some gift cash for his birthday, and he was itching to spend it. Luckily for us, the huge CD holdings at Borders sounded promising to him. We helped the children browse for books, bought them some hot chocolate, and let Ruslan loose in the music section. Jonathan and I had to watch carefully that beverages didn't spill and that high-pitched voices didn't disturb other patrsons. We also kept a close eye on the small toys so endemic to children's books. Why don't the book companies just let them read?? Ah, but that's an adult's opinion. The toys really are the best part, right?
An hour later, Ruslan walked out of the store with his new hip hop CD. Jonathan and I glanced at each other with satisfaction. A small piece of our former life had been reclaimed!
A Close Call
In our most recent dossier, all of the documents were new except one--the clearance from the federal government through the Dept. of Homeland Security (DHS). (For those of you who have done this, I'm referring to our I-171H.)
Because our I-171H from a year ago had not yet expired, we had to send this "aging" document instead of a new one or an extension. The CIS (Citizenship and Immigration Services) division of DHS allows for a one-time extension of your I-171H at no charge, if you apply for the extension within three months of its expiration. Our document expires this summer, and the fingerprints and background clearance upon which it is based expired on March 19. Before that date (amid Holy Week prep and jury duty!), we sent a letter to DHS requesting an appointment to be re-fingerprinted. Our invitation letters arrived about two weeks ago, and I placed them with the bills and other time-sensitive information on my desk.
Last weekend was not only the Triduum (Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter Sunday) but also the deadline for Jonathan's tenure application at Concordia. On Saturday night, he stayed in his Concordia office until 3:00 am to finish the application before we left town on Sunday for a short vacation. He had been asleep about an hour when my alarm rang at 5:00 am to get up for Easter services. He woke up at 6:30 am as I was leaving the house, and prepared the children for the 8:30 am worship service at Grace, where Bogdan's choir sang several pieces. The family then drove quickly to our church (Trinity), arriving just in time for the prelude at the 10:30 am service.
Jonathan and I allowed ourselves the luxury of taking the family to Old Country Buffet for Easter dinner. Neither of us could imagine cooking a big meal at home! We then got the car packed for a two-day spring break getaway to Springfield, Illinois. On the way out of town, we drove to Midway Airport in Chicago to put our 14-year-old Ruslan on a 7:45 pm flight to Austin, Texas. His uncle Tim and Aunt Lois had invited him to spend spring break with them, the first of such trips for each of our children. This trip was Ruslan's second time on an airplane, and his first trip alone. The impending flight had caused anxiety and acting out for most of our children for about a week, as Ruslan had to make sure things would still function in his absence, and the other children were frightened that their "father" and protector would be gone. Some of them were also quite apprehensive that he might never return. They've completely lost members of their families before, so it's not a foreign concept to them.
Ruslan's flight went well, and we talked to him in Austin by telephone that night as we drove toward Springfield. He was relieved and a little incredulous that he was already sitting in Tim and Lois' home. The rest of us continued on our two-day trip to central Illinois, which I won't describe now for the sake of time. We arrived home last night about 10:00 pm and got the kids in bed. Jonathan started thinking about what he would teach the next morning in his two classes, and I settled into reading a book.
Suddenly, for some inexplicable reason, I remembered that our fingerprinting appointments were the next morning--at 8:00 am! Oh, my!! During the rush of the week, we hadn't updated our calendars and I had neglected the bills. The appointments were therefore not on our calendars. It's a good thing I remembered, especially after reading the fine print on the invitation letter that says your application will be CANCELED if you don't show up to be fingerprinted. WHEW! That was a close one.
Bursting My Bubble
At our church, one of the most elaborate services of the entire year takes place on Good Friday. The choir leads the service, usually with a cantata or other major work that also serves as the sermon.
For Good Friday yesterday, we employed a lessons/carols format combined with Tenebrae. Readings from the Passion narrative alternated with either hymns by the congregation or Bach chorales by the choir. Ten different people served as layreaders, and as the service progressed, the sanctuary gradually darkened. The congregation sat throughout, both to maintain the contemplative mood and also to simplify an already complicated service. An acolyte gradually extinguished candles, until only the Christ candle remained lit.
At the end of the service, our pastor slammed the Bible very loudly on the altar (a historical tradition called the
strepitus) to symbolize the earth shaking and rocks splitting (Matthew 27:51) at Jesus' death. He then carried the Christ candle out of the darkened sanctuary to symbolize Christ's leaving the earth between Good Friday and Easter. The service ended in darkness with a reading that included John 3:16 followed by one more Bach chorale. On the organ, I extended the chorale by playing the mournful melody one last time accompanied only by a pedal point (very long note) on the softest, lowest pedal on the organ.
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At home later that evening, Luda walked through a kitchen and gave me an unsolicited comment: "Mom, I liked the service tonight."
As casually as I could, I asked her, "What did you like about it?"
She answered, "We never had to stand up!"
Progress
I got bored today.
Since the kids came, my drive to work has been a rare time of quiet. For the past two and a half years, my mind hasn't been quiet, however, and I've used my driving time to plan church services, think through discipline issues, sort out our schedule, etc. The thought of adding anything else to occupy my mind was out of the question.
I got bored today.
The planning of my Holy Week services is done. The kids are behaving pretty well today. I can actually entertain the idea of thinking about something else.
I turned on the radio to WFMT, Chicago's great classical music station. What a treat!
Merry Christmas!
During Holy Week, it's hard to find time for writing blogs. So here's one I wrote a few weeks ago for days like today . . .
Not long ago, a friend asked me to write more about Ukrainian Christmas. As for our own family, we attend the Christmas Eve service at a Ukrainain Orthodox Church on the evening of January 6. Jonathan and I buy small gifts for the children, and we try to eat some traditional Ukrainian foods, although not the typical Ukrainian Christmas meal with 12 (!) courses.
Last month, we didn't fare very well with our Ukrainian Christmas celebration. Jonathan and I were not able to get the correct time for the service, so we guessed at the time based on our memory of previous years. When we arrived at the church, the front doors were locked and the building was dark. The fellowship hall, however, was filled with people attending a fancy banquet, and one of them told me that the service had taken place a few hours earlier. Because January 6 took place this year on a school night, I think the services were held earlier than normal.
We drove around for an hour to check out other Ukrainian churches, but had no luck finding a worship service. All dressed up with nowhere to go! So we finally stopped at a restaurant we like, and the children ate hamburgers and opened their gifts. Since we don't eat out very much, it was still festive for them. And besides, for our kids, the presents are the most important part of the holiday!
Challenge
[from a medical website:]
Parentification refers to children or adolescents assuming adult roles before they are emotionally or developmentally ready to manage those roles successfully.
________________________________________________________________
[from a website written by Focus on the Family:]
How do children become parentified?
. . . when they become primary caretakers for siblings and are expected to run the household . . .
St. Patrick's Day
In my former church job, one of the worship services was conducted in German. Since I had lived in Germany in the 1990s, this worship service was a great way to keep my German language skills in practice. Most of the small congregation are Germans from Russia who had emigrated to Chicago after World War II. They are a quiet, reserved group, but once you know them, the stories of their resilience during and after the war are heartbreaking and incredible to hear. For example, one of them told me how she survived the fire bombing of Dresden.
The German choir, once more than twenty strong, had declined to only three retired women. Two of them were remarkable people, who I count as good friends, but the self-professed leader of the group did not believe for a moment that a "young," non-German woman could be in charge. She insisted on speaking English to me, and always chose the choir's repertoire. "Repertoire" is actually too broad a term, since the group rotated only ten songs or so over the years that this woman sang in the choir. On the rare occasion that I crossed her, she would look me squarely in the eye and declare in her thick German/Russian accent that her music choices were better because "WE KNOW THEM SONGS!"
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I'm getting very, very tired of bologna and turkey. Those are the lunch meats most often on sale. But most of the kids love them, especially bologna. They like foods to be familiar, and some of them find it stressful to experience new foods. Actually, some of them find anything new to be a challenge, which our counselors tell us is common for children who've been through a lot.
But occasionally, I can't stand the monotony anymore, so last week I found some sliced roast beef as a different take on sandwiches. And for St. Patrick's Day, a festival dearly beloved in Chicago, I bought some corned beef for the family's lunches. Last night, I served the roast beef as part of a small evening supper, and Olena took a real liking to it. She spent the whole meal angling for as much roast beef as possible. I told her that tomorrow we'd be having something new--corned beef--to mark St. Patrick's Day. She looked very disappointed and told me:
"Mom, I want roast beef tomorrow. I KNOW THAT BEEF!"
Perspective
About three weeks ago, in the midst of a whirlwind (dossier, Holy Week prep, basketball, laundry, dishes, etc., etc.), a thin envelope appeared in our mail. I let out an involuntary, very loud groan--JURY DUTY!
The children immediately asked me what was in the letter. My thoughts turned to the last time I had jury duty: In the year 2001, B.K. (before kids), I served on the jury of a three-week malpractice lawsuit. Despite all the theories about people like me being unpopular with lawyers, I was still selected for that jury. At the time, I was trying to finish my dissertation; in addition, that round of jury duty almost bumped up against a trip to England, which was my parent's graduation gift. I actually enjoyed the jury experience, but it was very, very inconvenient.
Still, when the children asked me why the letter bothered me so much, I immediately backpedaled and told them about our privilege as citizens to serve on juries. By the looks on their faces, I could tell they weren't convinced. My first thought was that the inconvenience had made my groan more believable than the reasoned explanation that followed. But it became quickly clear that they were extremely worried that I would go to court, be convicted, and sent away to prison.
At the courtroom in Ukraine where the adoption was finalized, a cage stood prominently next to the judge's seat, ready to hold the criminals whose guilt was being decided. The children, understandably, reacted quite negatively to the cage. They have never seen an American courtroom, and I'm sure they assume that cages are used there, too.
Jonathan and I assured them that jurors and defendants are not the same people, but the children continued to ply us with questions. I showed up for jury duty two days ago, since I can't risk getting called this summer when we will hopefully travel to Ukraine. The court did not choose me (or anyone else on the panel, for that matter), and I am excused from further service for an entire year. But the best part was seeing the relieved looks on the children's faces when I joined them for snack later that day!
Dossier is On Its Way!
Last Friday, Jonathan spent the day picking up the homestudy, apostilling documents, photocopying all of them, and packaging them for Ukraine. There's always something lingering, however.
The medical form that my doctor gave me was unfortunately not printed on letterhead, as is required. It was an honest mistake, but it still meant that the form was not acceptable. When I tried to rectify the problem last week, her receptionist told me she was away at a conference, and that there was nothing the office could do until her return. So last Friday Jonathan sent my incorrect medical form with the dossier anyway, so that Masha could at least start her translation work.
On Monday of this week, my doctor returned from her week-long conference, and I drove across Chicago to Skokie to pick up the new document. We finally mailed it on Tuesday.
THE DOSSIER IS DONE!!
American Culture 101
Ruslan and Bogdan attended their first pep rally yesterday. Grace Lutheran School gathered all of their students (kindergarten through 8th grade) into the gym for an assembly to send off their basketball team to the state tournament.
I'm sure both of our boys were all eyes watching what happens at a pep rally. But Bogdan had the more comfortable seat to be witnessing such an event for the first time: he sat in the stands, while Ruslan viewed the proceedings from his place on the gym floor--as a member of the team!
