How Not to Win Friends
Take a spoon from our flatware out of the kitchen drawer and leave it in the alley.
Squeeze the contents of a large toothpaste tube behind the radiator in the bathroom.
Pick tomatoes from your sibling's garden plot and hide them in the yard.
Find a permanent marker, pull books and notebooks out of your siblings' backpacks, and color everything green.
And that's only some of the activities observed yesterday!
Hanging In There
I went to bed at 8:00 pm last night, exhausted. Figuring I'd wake up very early, I left some paperwork on the table. Instead, the alarm woke me at the normal time. Ten hours of sleep.
Kola had a very bad rage this morning, worse than the one at suppertime yesterday. Because he and I arrived so late at school, the principal asked to see us. She is kind, but firm, with him, and very supportive of Jonathan and me. We are blessed that besides her extensive training as an educator, she is also an adoptive mother of a sibling group.
Two Years
On September 23, 2008, Jonathan and I stood before the judge in Kirovohrad when he pronounced that Kola was now our son. I'd still like to write more about that day from the notes I took after our appointment. But I don't have time today to give that topic justice.
Since brother David is away at camp, the family will fête Kola tomorrow. To mark the actual day, however, I drove Kola to Burger King after school. An outing alone with Mom is a rare event in our house, and he relished it. I brought the reading coupon he had earned at the library last summer, and he redeemed it for a free order of french fries. Adding some drinks and a milkshake completed our celebratory menu.
We shared thoughts about Ukraine, childhood nightmares, and photos of plants. He lingered over his milkshake, drawing out every possible moment of our time together. His tantrum/rage the previous night about the unknown("I DON'T WANT MY ANNIVERSARY!!") gave way to the pleasant surprise that such events are actually pretty nice!
Moms
David left this morning for a three-day retreat for the fifth-graders in the Forest Park school district. The activities include hiking, fishing, archery, and high- and low-ropes. He has talked of nothing else for several days now.
Last night, David studied the packing list and collected the things he needed. His pillow, however, stayed on his bed for the night. This morning, he forgot to take it along with his other belongings. Half-way to school, he realized that the pillow was missing.
His anxiety grew quickly. "Mom, I have to have a pillow! I can't go without one! What will I do? I NEED my pillow."
"David, you can use a rolled-up sweater. Or just use nothing. You'll be fine."
"Mom, you don't understand! You need to go home and get it for me. That's why God made moms!"
Not this mom!
Dads
Today is the feast of St. Matthew. His gospel gives the nativity account from Joseph's perspective. And Joseph is among the most famous adoptive fathers of all.
Better than Bathroom Humor
Why does a vampire like to drink blood?
Because root beer makes him burp!
Postscript: Shakespeare Got It Right
In my last post, I'm not referring to Kola and his tantrums. Our older children are my inspiration for quoting Shakespeare.
Shakespeare Got It Right
"The [child] doth protest too much, methinks."
- Hamlet Act 3, Scene 2, 222-230
Diversion
Anytime a new activity is on the schedule, Kola goes into a rage. With Ukrainian dance classes starting tonight, we had a rough weekend. One in a day is enough, but he outdid himself yesterday. Makes the other kids upset, too, to say the least.
This morning, he started talking about Ukrainian dance. I reminded him that he had already danced in Ukraine, when the First Lady visited his orphanage. My friend Maggie was wonderful to ask him about the details.
"I was four when she came, and I danced by myself."
"What were you?"
"A peacock!"
I told him the story of the orphanage director asking the First Lady if he should join his brothers and sisters. That reminded him of the director, his good friend. He decided to write her a letter. We had time before school to start the letter with its salutation and closing, which he penned in his best cursive handwriting:
Dear:director
mikola
Changes
Sorry for the absence, but the internet has been down at work. I can get to the library or a coffee house now and then, but not as regularly as I'd like.
Some long-standing issues are starting to change--
Psychological testing for David and Kola started last May, and we are finally have an appointment for the results. Next Saturday, we hope to know better what directions to take with them.
Our immense oak tree, half of which fell last June, was removed in its entirety last Thursday. I'm sad to lose such a beautiful tree, but relieved that the leaning half is no longer threatening our neighbor's house and yard. We left the stump as a table, so the rings are visible. Paul counted up to 130 before giving up, and we estimate that the oak was over 200 years old.
And lastly . . . after twenty-four years of tying his hair back, Jonathan took the plunge. He now sports very short hair. My neighbor asked me the identity of the new teenager at our house.
Holidays
I have so much trouble with holidays. What would most regenerate me is to sit under a tree and read a book. Instead, the day is mostly scheduled with appointments and the prep for them, and between the cracks, childcare takes over. The events are fun, but after a long day of work on Sunday (two services, a p.r. mailing, and a wedding), my energy level is pretty low.
Tuesday arrives, and everyone's back at work or school. It's quiet, and I'm taking my alone time this morning. It comes out of my hide, however, with bills due and ensembles at church beginning this week. But Jonathan reminded me that if I don't take time for myself now, I'll crash later.
Other mothers have assured me that this dilemma is not unique to me. The famous passage from Ecclesiastes (chapter 3, verses 1-8) keeps me going and reminds me to enjoy life now, even if it's different than I would choose for myself.
There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under heaven:
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.
Technology
I'm not a fan of TV, and for about a year we stored all of our televisions in the basement. The kids watched movies on our computers when we allowed it, and therefore DVDs are popular in our house.
This summer, when we stayed with Jonathan's brother and his wife in Texas, the children caught up with all their favorite TV shows. One day we asked them to come to the dinner table during the middle of a show. Kola didn't want to miss any of the action, and therefore asked us to pause the television!
Definitely Middle-Aged
Last Sunday morning, I encountered some difficulties playing for the service. As usual, I took two Aleve to counter the tendonitis/arthritis in my shoulders and wrists. Since my reading glasses for the organ were misplaced, I had to use my brand-new progressive eyeglasses. That meant lots of head-shifting to find the proper angle to see the music. The balcony was sweltering, but it grew even more unbearable when a round of hot flashes started.
Yesterday, our mail included my first application for the AARP.
I guess it's official. My 50th birthday is only a few months away.
