Again, Punt
The story of my life right now--little bits of computer time here and there. So . . . here's another photo. Peter bows to the First Lady of Ukraine, who gazes directly at him. For more about this event, see my post on September 12, 2008.
Punt
I had a long post planned for today, but I'm totally out of time. So . . . here's another photo. This is Peter dancing at age 3 or 4 when the First Lady of Ukraine visited his orphanage.
Three Years Later
We've learned from several sources that adoption adjustment takes about three years to reach a new "normal." In 2008, three years after our first adoption, we started a second adjustment period with Peter and the family.
Since last October, we're now back to a new "normal." Whatever THAT is! To be honest, however, our lives are definitely calmer than a year ago, for which I'm grateful.
It's Late and I'm Tired
Can't write tonight, so here's another photo. We're standing near the orphanage in 2005, with the very amazing woman who was the director. By our return visit in 2008, she had died of cancer. This lady managed a difficult job with a manner both loving and firm. She really went to bat for us, especially in court.
Like the Big Boys
Peter graced us with a terrible tantrum, screaming and kicking and otherwise creating a scene.
When all was over, he turned to his dad and said, "I'm sorry. Can we talk about it?"
Be Careful What You Say
Two days ago, a preschool student in Sunday School approached the rehearsal in the music room with trepidation. The prior Sunday, I had excused my rasping voice with the comment, "Sorry, I must have a frog in my throat." The poor child didn't want to risk seeing the frog, and in my mouth!
Christmas Eve
Several members at our church commented positively about our processional on Christmas Eve. If you want to view it, check out the following video on YouTube. If you can't get to the video with this address, try the following entry on YouTube and click "Christmas Processional":
RevRobRogers
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VACMy6K3nw8
Another Photo
Found another photo that I really like, with Sarah, my dad, and me. It's from several years ago, when I could still hold Sarah in my arms. Now she's a 13-year-old young lady!
Unintentionally in Style
This morning, in a hurry to leave for school, I grabbed the comb in the bathroom and pulled it through my bangs. It was immediately clear that I had just gelled my hair. Oh, well!
Windy City
Chicago's nickname stems from its politicians rather than the weather. But this native Texan shivers when she reads the forecast for today and tomorrow:
Thursday
Slick travel due to light snow this morning. Becoming mostly sunny, blustery and bitterly cold. Temperatures fall to the 7 to 14-degree range, coldest of any afternoon in 11 months. Gusty northwest winds 12 to 24 mph, occasionally as high as 30 mph, drop wind chills to 5-below to 5-above zero. Bitterly cold Thursday night. Low: 0 inland; 11 Chicago lakeshore.
Friday
Winter storm potential Friday and Friday night. The area could see its biggest snow to date this season. Clouds thicken. Snow begins mid-morning then continues through the evening rush hour well into Friday night. Accumulations of 4 to 8 inches possible. Easterly winds 8 to 18 mph with some gusts.
Photo
Six and a half years since the first adoption. Here's the photo taken right after our court appointment; it's one of my favorites. I may have blogged this picture already; if so, sorry for the repetition.
Dad!!!
Rachel texted a request to her father. He responded "Y"
She sent back a long message explaining the reasons for her request.
He wrote back that "Y" meant "yes," not "why"
Her response: "That's old-people texting!"
Asking for Favors
"Mom, can I rock tonight?"
Peter would rock himself to sleep every night, if I let him. But the motion disturbs the other boys who share his room, so I almost never let him rock. He is so insistent, however, that I finally told him he could rock once a year, on his birthday. Then he talked me into twice a year, by adding Christmas.
Christmas 2011 came and went, and he was so absorbed in the holiday that he forgot to ask for his special favor. He was distraught a day later, having missed something that he had waited months to do.
Ten days later, on Ukrainian Christmas Eve, he reminded me that it was Christmas. We had struggled so hard to get the older kids to celebrate, that I felt obligated to grant Peter the favor of rocking. At least he wanted it to be Christmas!
And again, last Thursday, he asked to rock. When I said no, he insisted that it was a very, very special day--his dad's 50th birthday. My response?
"I'll tell Dad that he can rock tonight!"
Composing
Yesterday, Jonathan received the lyrics for a commissioned musical work. He started to read the text, and before he had scanned two or three lines, musical ideas started flowing. He tried to keep reading, but the music chased him relentlessly. He finally gave up and jotted down the melody. By the end of the evening, with the tune completed, he had commenced work on the harmony.
Special Day
Ringed by mountains, the town drew patients from miles around to the only hospital in the area. Inside, a mother nestled her newborn baby. She lay in a private room, not by her choice, but because the nurses requested it. Every time the door to her room opened, a crowd of people strained to look inside at the unusual baby. Unlike every other newborn they had ever seen, this child had red hair rather than black!
Yes, as I sit typing this story during a snowstorm, we mark 50 years ago today that Jonathan was born in Zacapa, Guatemala!
SNOW!
Winter storm hitting Chicago tomorrow--first significant snow of the season. In preparation, I canceled choir and bell rehearsals. Now we're ready for the snow to fly!
Photo
I'm pretty swamped right now, so here's a photo (faster than writing). It's of Jonathan in Ukraine (2008) with the national flower.
Vocal Vomit
Peter was having a hard morning. I don't remember why, but a lack of good sleep probably contributed. As we rode to school, he sat in his normal position behind the driver and rhythmically slammed the seat in front of him with his foot.
"Peter, please stop kicking my chair."
He continued, muttering some very disrespectful comments. I contemplated my alternatives, since my usual method of stopping the car would make everyone late for school.
"Peter, second time, please stop kicking my chair."
To my relief, he stopped the motion. But the disrespect continued pouring from his mouth. Jonathan and I call it "vocal vomit." I was reminded how we emphasized physical behavior with the older five children and ignored their speech for a long time. Since our household language in their first months was Ukrainian, I was spared a lot of comments since I couldn't understand them.
But for several years it was all I could handle to discipline for behavior. Now, I find verbal disrespect to be a big problem that's harder to tackle because it has become engrained. But many a wise parent has reminded me to pick one's battles and not attempt everything all at once.
Back in Chicago
Just returned yesterday from a trip to Austin, Texas. We took the train, which is my FAVORITE way to travel.
When I've had a chance to land, I'll get going on the blog again.
BTW, Happy New Year!
