Learning Curve
Our six-year-old David exited the store in Ukrainian village with his pants pocket bulging. I stopped him and asked for the contents of his pocket--candy. We marched back into the store and found the manager. Despite the language barrier, I made clear to the man that David had taken the candy without paying. Instead of backing me up, the manager smiled and said to him, "It doesn't cost that much--why don't you just keep it?" Aaaaargh!
Yesterday, our ten-year-old David walked with me to a parking structure to pick up our car. At the pay station, he discovered that a previous customer had forgotten their change--four $1 bills. I was proud of David that he showed me the money, and we immediately searched for the security guard to turn it in.
I was ready this time. When the man started to tell David to keep the money, I interrupted and told him that we were very glad when our children turned in money that didn't belong to them. He caught the hint, and thanked David for his honesty.
Beginning of an Era
Our adoption training always emphasized the importance of the child’s ethnic and religious culture. To my amazement, some of our adoption books even recommended changing to churches of the same denomination as the children’s background. Since our two younger boys will no longer attend Ukrainian school, we’ve sought another way for them to connect with their birth culture.
Yesterday, part of our family attended a performance by the Ukrainian School of Dance, which caters to children through grade 12. Next fall, we’ll enroll David and Kola. Hopefully, they’ll get some language reinforcement along with the physical exercise.
For boys, Ukrainian dancing includes very difficult moves and a certain amount of gymnastics. Think of Russian dancing, with kicking near the floor and flips across the stage. This type of dancing originated with the Cossacks (warriors from the 15th to the 18th centuries), who were actually Ukrainian, not Russian. One of the boys' dances yesterday entailed a mock sword fight.
David and Kola gazed in rapt attention, barely sitting on the edge of their seats.
End of an Era
Five years of Ukrainian school, on Saturdays for four hours. Fifteen “concerts” (programs). Twenty times for the children to wear Ukrainian clothes. 150 nights of Ukrainian homework. 160 Saturdays of sleeping in—until 7:00 am instead of the usual 6:00.
In the past, we’ve allowed the children to stop attending Ukrainian school when they finish fifth grade. Because the school’s curriculum includes a large religion component, the kids transition well into our church’s confirmation program, which begins in sixth grade. Ukrainian school and confirmation are also similar in requiring a major time commitment, so trading one for the other made sense.
Sarah is entering sixth grade, so her completion of Ukrainian school follows our past pattern. We’re changing paradigms with David and Kola, however, and allowing them to quit after first and fourth grade. Both boys have lost much of their Ukrainian language ability, since they were younger when they came to the U.S. In addition, other children at Ukrainian school speak it at home with their parents, and thus receive a great deal of practice; our kids don’t have that kind of reinforcement. Our older children can still speak the language, but they adamantly speak only English.
Ukrainian school for David and Kola has been extra challenging this year, since their comprehension is so poor. They also know that their older siblings view the language negatively, so it's hard to tell how much the younger boys just refuse to understand. David and Kola's teachers, therefore, must reiterate instructions to them in English, which sets them apart from the other students. In addition, when they don’t understand the class content, they get bored and start acting up. It’s been a difficult year of discipline for them, their teachers, and us. Several Saturdays this spring, I have sat at Kola’s side in his classroom for several hours, keeping a lid on his behavior.
Yesterday, Sarah, David, and Kola gave their last performance. Selected students from the different classes recited sections of Ukrainian poems, and each class sang a song. Sarah did her first recitation, from memory, and overcame her nerves to do a good job. After the concert, the three children gave their teachers flowers, posed for a photo, and said good-bye.
New Shoes
Kola's tennis shoes had bit the dust. Holes in the soles, cracks in the uppers. He valiantly wore them, but kept reminding us that he really did need new ones.
I finally screwed up the courage to look in the basement among the boxes of donated shoes. When the rains came last week, I had moved everything to "high ground," which meant that loose shoes were no longer with their cousins. After about an hour, all the shoes were back in their proper bins, although pairing so many was out of the question. As I sorted the several hundred shoes, I kept an eye out for Kola's size. Amazingly, there wasn't even one pair of tennis shoes that would fit him.
As I emerged from the basement, he met me at the stairs. "Did you find shoes for me?"
"No, Kola, I didn't."
"YES!!! When can we go to the shoe store?"
Considering that he's owned only three new pairs of shoes in his whole life, the only surprise is that he limited himself to the word "YES"!
Mystery Meat
A neighbor on our street frequents food pantries and often brings us their overages. A few months ago, we had almost emptied our freezer of the meat she had brought. The only package left was some ground meat in a plastic wrapper with the following labeled boxes:
1 Venison
2 Elk
3 Antelope
4 Buffalo
5 Moose
Unfortunately, none of the boxes were checked.
That day had already been busy. Four of the children had visited the dentist, Jonathan and I were getting prepared for the funeral of a colleague that evening, and a babysitter would arrive imminently. It was not a good day for challenges. I quickly prepared pasta, cut up some raw broccoli, and fried up patties with the only meat left in the house.
At supper, we all sampled the meat, which tasted like liver, but more fatty and "gamey." David was the first to inquire, "What IS this?" Someone told him it was probably buffalo, which the children have tasted before.
Paul hadn't been listening, but after he tasted the meat asked us, "WHAT is this?" We then told the kids about the packaging, and that we didn't know what kind of meat it was. The girls screamed, and the whole table erupted into an uproar.
We told the kids that their Uncle Mark, an outdoorsman, likes to eat this kind of meat. That settled them down, and they picked up their forks and ate every last bite of "hunters' food."
Too Much Work
Our tax accountant required that our financial information be delivered by March 15. It was a serious deadline, since Walther High School requires a completed tax return on April 15 for their financial aid decisions.
On Sunday, March 14, I worked for hours to get our financial data together. Kola watched me, and then asked:
Kola: "Mom, do you have to do taxes tomorrow, too?"
Mary: "Yes, but they are due tomorrow, so then I'll finally be finished. I certainly hope it doesn't take all day tomorrow, too."
Kola: "I hope not. You need some fun."
A Special Note
Dear Mom,
Happy mother's day. I love you sooooo much.
Hope your day is soo Motherful. I'm glad you are my mom.
Love,
Sarah
Mentoring
I wrote a blog post on Feb. 11 about "playing church." Well, I heard yesterday that the some of the nursery school kids at Trinity "play chapel." They sing and pray (with dolls in a circle) just like I do when leading the children in our weekly chapel service. Makes me smile.
Words of Advice
"When I was sixteen, my father was the most ignorant man in the world.
By the time I reached twenty-one, I was surprised at how much he had learned in five years."
- Mark Twain
Grant Patience, Lord, to Me
"We sing our thanks for Joseph, the guardian of our Lord,
Who faithfully taught Jesus through craft and deed and word.
Grant wisdom, Lord, and patience to parents everywhere
Who guide and teach the children entrusted to their care."
-
Lutheran Service Book, Hymn No. 517, st. 14
Getting Some Space
Even the most well-meaning people can ask too many questions at inappropriate times. Every adoptive parent figures out responses, both ones they use and others they'd like to use. If someone asks me how much our children cost, I sometimes respond, "How much did you pay your ob/gyn and the hospital when your baby was born?"
But a more polite response to most questions, which immediately communicates, is the simple statement:
"It's complicated."
Birthday Outings with Mom (2010)
I bought a six-concert subscription to the CSO (Chicago Symphony Orchestra) so that each child could attend a performance with me. In order to find appropriate concerts for their age and interests, the dates did not land near their birthdays. As of last Saturday, they have all been to their performances, even though Adam, Rachel, and David are still (eagerly) waiting for their birthdays.
Sarah
Halloween concert, with the children in costume
Kola
Mother Goose concert
Paul
John Williams (in person) and film music (with movies showing on a huge screen)
David
Mozart and Mime
Adam
The CSO with the Hubbard Street Dance Company
Rachel
Stravinsky's
Firebird with the School of the Joffrey Ballet
Step 5
Madeline Hunter's next suggestion for helping PI (post-institutionalized) children learn:
Although these children may seem to have excellent expressive language skills, their receptive language is often very disabled, which means they may not be able to answer questions related to information you think they have mastered.
Social language and school (content) language are very different.
Though it may seem that children who have lived in institutions are able to learn the English language quickly, these are often surface language skills.Therefore, check that the student ACTUALLY understands a direction.
"What If?"
This morning, Paul, Adam, and I drove on the interstate to church, where the boys are helping out with a rummage sale. Adam spotted the billboard for the "mega-million" lottery. Adam: "If I win the mega-million, I'll buy us a new house."
He would really like a room of his own.Mom: "Paul, what would you buy if you won?"
Paul: "A Camaro."
Paul loves cars, and he always wins at our game of "Punch Buggy Seal." Mom: "Well, my choice would be a vacation trip to Rome."
Paul: "That reminds me--I'd like to go to Germany."
Since Paul is our child that prefers staying home, and will even turn down a restaurant meal if we can eat in, I asked him why he wanted to travel.Paul: "To drive that Camaro on the autobahn!"
