Stu brought Serena out to an Ethiopian restaurant for the first time in the year she's been here. They said it was good - and like what we had in Ethiopia.
It was a special time for daddy and daughter.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Monday, March 17, 2008
Getting used to America
Adjusting to our culture and language – to America!
Serena was 7 when she first came – and didn’t really attempt to communicate with us, while we were still in Ethiopia. She would talk to the Ethiopians and not even try to talk to us. It wasn't until there wasn't an Amharic speaking person around, that she made the effort to understand us. Almost a year has passed since we’ve brought her home, and there are a few things I especially remember of her trying to learn English. –
We would use cards with pictures of everyday items with the word below. This was one of the best “tools” we had for teaching her our language. One card was a kitchen sink, and her eyes would light up and she would guess a “chicken”! We couldn’t help but laugh, but she got offended. I think she was confusing “chicken” with “kitchen” – which was where that sink belonged.
We brought them home in April, and the weather was still chilly sometimes. I was outside with her, and I said, “brrrrrr!” and she responded “birr? Money?” (Ethiopian currency is birr).
That brings up another instance of ignorant bliss. Sadly, our kid’s estranged grandfather, didn’t accept our new black kids right away. He showed up on our driveway one day, and was talking to my husband, out the window of his pickup. Serena came bounding up and pointed to grandpa and looked at dad with question in her eyes. Stu said “that’s your Grandpa!”, and she excitedly asked “grandpa?” while rolling her R’s. Stu’s father got this look on his face like, “oh no, you can’t be saying…” As Serena was watching, Grandpa got out 3 ten dollar bills, for our “3” kids. Stu stared at him until he shrugged and added “for all your kids to share”. Oblivious to the insult, Serena lit up when she saw the money, and asked “birr?” holding out her hand. Grandpa finally got out 4 one dollar bills and handed them to her. She was delighted and danced around the yard, waving her dollars around above her head.
Serena came to America with the expectation that “begging” works. On the way home from Ethiopia, we went through the Mnpls. airport, where there are a lot of Ethiopians who work there. Twice, she went up to a snack stand, and asked in Amharic for some gum. Since we couldn’t understand her, we were slow to stop her. The Ethiopian people were pleased to talk to her, and gladly gave her gum, convincing us that it was alright, and they paid for it themselves. Even though we tried to explain to her that this is wrong, she would try it every time we went to the store. I would find her at the checkout, looking with pleading eyes at the cashier, saying “one?, just one?”, holding up a chapstick, or something like that. When I finally got through to her that she had to ask me, she would start a new tactic. When we would be passing an isle with something on the shelf that caught her eye, she would rush over to the item, and “swoon” over it, and come back to me, kissing my arm, and telling me how much she loved me, asking if she could have the water gun, or whatever new thing she wanted. In spite of her efforts, she never got the items she wanted – I was disgusted.
Serena also came to America with a wonderful trait – she knew how to work. She put everyone else in our family to shame. She is my best sweeper, and most willing helper. I have to keep myself from asking for her help more than the others, even though I need the help, and I know she’ll do it. She is always anxious to please. One day last fall, I was just finished canning a load of tomato soup, and I asked her to carry the jars downstairs and put them on the shelves in the freezer room. A few days later, I went down to get a couple jars to make taco soup. I couldn’t find them, so I asked Serena where she put them. She happily showed me that she put them in the freezer. Whoops! The soup expands as it freezes, so there were 6 broken jars in the freezer. Poor Serena looked so helpless as I exclaimed my disappointment, so I thanked her for helping, and told her it was okay. The whole sentence, “go downstairs and put these on the shelves in the freezer room”, was just too much for her to figure out.
She is learning so much. I just went in for a parents/teachers conference, and visited with her teachers. She is in Kindergarten, (with Kira) which is working well, even though she is 8. She is learning to read, and it is so much fun to hear her come home, knowing words, and sounding out words. The teachers find it interesting that there is no sound like “th” in Ethiopia, so they have to learn specifically how to make that sound. They say, “Etiopia”, instead of “Ethiopia”. We are working with her to get her to pronounce it right. Her special language teacher spent a lot of time getting her to add the “extra” words into a sentence. Before, she would say the bare minimum, without “the”, “of”, “is” etc. It worked too well – because now, we are trying to get her to stop saying, “can I get the Gabe out of his crib?” What a confusing language to learn!
Serena is very social. She loves people, (especially men). My husband couldn’t help but get a little jealous, when she would latch onto a friend of his, and kiss and hug him, obviously enjoying her new friendship. I got a call from the principal early on, about her inappropriate behavior. He said she would hit him on the rear! (in a flirty way) She would come into his office and tap on his keyboard, and when he said to go back to her classroom, she would say no! I couldn’t believe my ears. She got in deep trouble for that, and we explained and explained about respect for those above us, etc. I have observed with the principal that he seems genuinely interested in her too, and shows her attention, and sometimes teases her, so I think she just take her response a bit too far! In Ethiopia, they, even the men are very affectionate. It is normal for friends to greet each other with a kiss on one cheek, the other, then back to the other. We’ve had to pull her off of more than one poor guy who does not know what to do with her eagerness. I love how she is very personable – interested and loving to everyone. This is a trait from Ethiopia – they have all the time in the world for you. I hope she never loses that.
Serena was 7 when she first came – and didn’t really attempt to communicate with us, while we were still in Ethiopia. She would talk to the Ethiopians and not even try to talk to us. It wasn't until there wasn't an Amharic speaking person around, that she made the effort to understand us. Almost a year has passed since we’ve brought her home, and there are a few things I especially remember of her trying to learn English. –
We would use cards with pictures of everyday items with the word below. This was one of the best “tools” we had for teaching her our language. One card was a kitchen sink, and her eyes would light up and she would guess a “chicken”! We couldn’t help but laugh, but she got offended. I think she was confusing “chicken” with “kitchen” – which was where that sink belonged.
We brought them home in April, and the weather was still chilly sometimes. I was outside with her, and I said, “brrrrrr!” and she responded “birr? Money?” (Ethiopian currency is birr).
That brings up another instance of ignorant bliss. Sadly, our kid’s estranged grandfather, didn’t accept our new black kids right away. He showed up on our driveway one day, and was talking to my husband, out the window of his pickup. Serena came bounding up and pointed to grandpa and looked at dad with question in her eyes. Stu said “that’s your Grandpa!”, and she excitedly asked “grandpa?” while rolling her R’s. Stu’s father got this look on his face like, “oh no, you can’t be saying…” As Serena was watching, Grandpa got out 3 ten dollar bills, for our “3” kids. Stu stared at him until he shrugged and added “for all your kids to share”. Oblivious to the insult, Serena lit up when she saw the money, and asked “birr?” holding out her hand. Grandpa finally got out 4 one dollar bills and handed them to her. She was delighted and danced around the yard, waving her dollars around above her head.
Serena came to America with the expectation that “begging” works. On the way home from Ethiopia, we went through the Mnpls. airport, where there are a lot of Ethiopians who work there. Twice, she went up to a snack stand, and asked in Amharic for some gum. Since we couldn’t understand her, we were slow to stop her. The Ethiopian people were pleased to talk to her, and gladly gave her gum, convincing us that it was alright, and they paid for it themselves. Even though we tried to explain to her that this is wrong, she would try it every time we went to the store. I would find her at the checkout, looking with pleading eyes at the cashier, saying “one?, just one?”, holding up a chapstick, or something like that. When I finally got through to her that she had to ask me, she would start a new tactic. When we would be passing an isle with something on the shelf that caught her eye, she would rush over to the item, and “swoon” over it, and come back to me, kissing my arm, and telling me how much she loved me, asking if she could have the water gun, or whatever new thing she wanted. In spite of her efforts, she never got the items she wanted – I was disgusted.
Serena also came to America with a wonderful trait – she knew how to work. She put everyone else in our family to shame. She is my best sweeper, and most willing helper. I have to keep myself from asking for her help more than the others, even though I need the help, and I know she’ll do it. She is always anxious to please. One day last fall, I was just finished canning a load of tomato soup, and I asked her to carry the jars downstairs and put them on the shelves in the freezer room. A few days later, I went down to get a couple jars to make taco soup. I couldn’t find them, so I asked Serena where she put them. She happily showed me that she put them in the freezer. Whoops! The soup expands as it freezes, so there were 6 broken jars in the freezer. Poor Serena looked so helpless as I exclaimed my disappointment, so I thanked her for helping, and told her it was okay. The whole sentence, “go downstairs and put these on the shelves in the freezer room”, was just too much for her to figure out.
She is learning so much. I just went in for a parents/teachers conference, and visited with her teachers. She is in Kindergarten, (with Kira) which is working well, even though she is 8. She is learning to read, and it is so much fun to hear her come home, knowing words, and sounding out words. The teachers find it interesting that there is no sound like “th” in Ethiopia, so they have to learn specifically how to make that sound. They say, “Etiopia”, instead of “Ethiopia”. We are working with her to get her to pronounce it right. Her special language teacher spent a lot of time getting her to add the “extra” words into a sentence. Before, she would say the bare minimum, without “the”, “of”, “is” etc. It worked too well – because now, we are trying to get her to stop saying, “can I get the Gabe out of his crib?” What a confusing language to learn!
Serena is very social. She loves people, (especially men). My husband couldn’t help but get a little jealous, when she would latch onto a friend of his, and kiss and hug him, obviously enjoying her new friendship. I got a call from the principal early on, about her inappropriate behavior. He said she would hit him on the rear! (in a flirty way) She would come into his office and tap on his keyboard, and when he said to go back to her classroom, she would say no! I couldn’t believe my ears. She got in deep trouble for that, and we explained and explained about respect for those above us, etc. I have observed with the principal that he seems genuinely interested in her too, and shows her attention, and sometimes teases her, so I think she just take her response a bit too far! In Ethiopia, they, even the men are very affectionate. It is normal for friends to greet each other with a kiss on one cheek, the other, then back to the other. We’ve had to pull her off of more than one poor guy who does not know what to do with her eagerness. I love how she is very personable – interested and loving to everyone. This is a trait from Ethiopia – they have all the time in the world for you. I hope she never loses that.
Monday, March 10, 2008
Monday, March 3, 2008
A day in the life of an adoptive mom.
Observation time:
When we first brought the kids home, I found myself on display. I was observed in all my "glory" - and nothing went by without being noticed. My new 8 yr. old daughter watched every move I made - studied the way I cleared my throat, watched me chew my food, chuckled at the burp I tried to hide, commented on how tired I was if I sighed, pointed out the little dirty spot on my shirt, and "helped" me by letting me know anything that happened in the house that she thought I should be aware of. It felt stifling at times - would I ever just get by without much notice anymore?
I should add that she also saw her new mom with a fascination that made me step back and appreciate. I would simply walk out of my room in the morning with an outfit on that she hadn't seen yet, and she would exclaim with delight on how "beautiful" I look! It didn't matter if it was a few years old. She noticed if I wore a pair of earrings that I hadn't worn yet since she'd come to live here. After I do my hair for church, she would tell me that my hair was so pretty. She would tell me I'm so nice, if I shared my lipgloss with her. And she still sits and studies my old picture books and tenderly oohs and aahhs over old pictures of me, noticing everything.
It has forced me to open myself up and allow her to get to know me, even if it's out of my comfort zone. After all, I am her mother.
Cut and paste:
We have a wall of pictures in our living room. It gets enjoyed by our baby, Gabe, the most. He calls all the kids "Damien! Damien!", although now, he is adding, "Diera! (Kira)". We have a new family picture with all 5 kids on our wall, but there is still a picture of when we only had 3 kids - before the adoption. This bothers Serena . After commenting on it from time to time, she finally asked me the other day if she could be in the picture. I laughed and said that was when we had only 3 kids before we went to Ethiopia to pick her up. I pointed out that she is in the current picture. She went on to suggest that I cut a picture out of her, and glue it right there between Damien and Garret on the old picture. It touched my heart - to think it means that much to her to be part of our family, that she would try to change our past to include her!
Understanding the color of our skin:
Serena has fully accepted that she is different color than her parents, and doesn't seem at all bothered by it. I did find it interesting the other day, when she asked me if she would have white skin like me when she grew up. (where did that idea come from?) I told her no, but assured her that we love the color of her skin, and she is beautiful in her own special way. (little does she know I'd love to get some color into my skin right now -after a winter, my skin is gastly!) When the skin color discussion includes Damien, he is quick to say that there are more colors of skin in our family than brown and white. HE is tan (he does get a gorgeous tan in the summer, but I don't care for his growing vanity), mom is white, etc., etc.
Special music:
Yesterday, Serena sang for special music at church. Or should I say mumbled. At home, she loves to put in an Ethiopian cd and sing her heart out. For this particular song, she gets down on her knees, closes her eyes, and puts her hands up - singing with so much emotion to Jesus. I thought this would be great for our church - throw in a little charisma, into our reserved congregation. So, after spending a 1/2 hr. getting her hair just right, and all the tangles out, putting on her prettiest dress, she was ready.
Talk about the longest 6 minutes of a person's life! The song went on and on, and she stared out at the crowd, and murmered into the mike, with an occasional outburst in Amharic, when she was confident enough. "Oh well", I tell Stu later, "at least she looked pretty." I'm learning to shrug somethings off - what can you do about it now anyway!
Bobbing and weaving:
My baby, Gabe, has been with us now for 10 mo., about as long as he's been in Ethiopia. He doesn't remember anything of his old life, of course. I marvel at how absolutely adorable he is. He drives us all nuts at times with his 1 yr. old drama - messing up and getting into everthing. He's also made his mom aware that maybe she is done with babies, but is he ever cute! Today is sunny, and I decided to pull him in a sled around town. (to make a complete circle around our small town, it takes 30 min.) I sat him up in the sled and off we went. Halfway done, I look back and see him sitting there with his eyes closed - his head swaying side to side and bobbing front to back. He starts to lay back, then jerks up again. After smiling at him for a while, I gently lay him back, and continue on. The problem is, he looks a little dead, or something. He lays stiff, all bundled up, with his arms straight out. So I smile, trying to look like this is completely normal, as I pass car after car of curious people. The little bundle is pictured below, still sleeping.
When we first brought the kids home, I found myself on display. I was observed in all my "glory" - and nothing went by without being noticed. My new 8 yr. old daughter watched every move I made - studied the way I cleared my throat, watched me chew my food, chuckled at the burp I tried to hide, commented on how tired I was if I sighed, pointed out the little dirty spot on my shirt, and "helped" me by letting me know anything that happened in the house that she thought I should be aware of. It felt stifling at times - would I ever just get by without much notice anymore?
I should add that she also saw her new mom with a fascination that made me step back and appreciate. I would simply walk out of my room in the morning with an outfit on that she hadn't seen yet, and she would exclaim with delight on how "beautiful" I look! It didn't matter if it was a few years old. She noticed if I wore a pair of earrings that I hadn't worn yet since she'd come to live here. After I do my hair for church, she would tell me that my hair was so pretty. She would tell me I'm so nice, if I shared my lipgloss with her. And she still sits and studies my old picture books and tenderly oohs and aahhs over old pictures of me, noticing everything.
It has forced me to open myself up and allow her to get to know me, even if it's out of my comfort zone. After all, I am her mother.
Cut and paste:
We have a wall of pictures in our living room. It gets enjoyed by our baby, Gabe, the most. He calls all the kids "Damien! Damien!", although now, he is adding, "Diera! (Kira)". We have a new family picture with all 5 kids on our wall, but there is still a picture of when we only had 3 kids - before the adoption. This bothers Serena . After commenting on it from time to time, she finally asked me the other day if she could be in the picture. I laughed and said that was when we had only 3 kids before we went to Ethiopia to pick her up. I pointed out that she is in the current picture. She went on to suggest that I cut a picture out of her, and glue it right there between Damien and Garret on the old picture. It touched my heart - to think it means that much to her to be part of our family, that she would try to change our past to include her!
Understanding the color of our skin:
Serena has fully accepted that she is different color than her parents, and doesn't seem at all bothered by it. I did find it interesting the other day, when she asked me if she would have white skin like me when she grew up. (where did that idea come from?) I told her no, but assured her that we love the color of her skin, and she is beautiful in her own special way. (little does she know I'd love to get some color into my skin right now -after a winter, my skin is gastly!) When the skin color discussion includes Damien, he is quick to say that there are more colors of skin in our family than brown and white. HE is tan (he does get a gorgeous tan in the summer, but I don't care for his growing vanity), mom is white, etc., etc.
Special music:
Yesterday, Serena sang for special music at church. Or should I say mumbled. At home, she loves to put in an Ethiopian cd and sing her heart out. For this particular song, she gets down on her knees, closes her eyes, and puts her hands up - singing with so much emotion to Jesus. I thought this would be great for our church - throw in a little charisma, into our reserved congregation. So, after spending a 1/2 hr. getting her hair just right, and all the tangles out, putting on her prettiest dress, she was ready.
Talk about the longest 6 minutes of a person's life! The song went on and on, and she stared out at the crowd, and murmered into the mike, with an occasional outburst in Amharic, when she was confident enough. "Oh well", I tell Stu later, "at least she looked pretty." I'm learning to shrug somethings off - what can you do about it now anyway!
Bobbing and weaving:
My baby, Gabe, has been with us now for 10 mo., about as long as he's been in Ethiopia. He doesn't remember anything of his old life, of course. I marvel at how absolutely adorable he is. He drives us all nuts at times with his 1 yr. old drama - messing up and getting into everthing. He's also made his mom aware that maybe she is done with babies, but is he ever cute! Today is sunny, and I decided to pull him in a sled around town. (to make a complete circle around our small town, it takes 30 min.) I sat him up in the sled and off we went. Halfway done, I look back and see him sitting there with his eyes closed - his head swaying side to side and bobbing front to back. He starts to lay back, then jerks up again. After smiling at him for a while, I gently lay him back, and continue on. The problem is, he looks a little dead, or something. He lays stiff, all bundled up, with his arms straight out. So I smile, trying to look like this is completely normal, as I pass car after car of curious people. The little bundle is pictured below, still sleeping.
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Finding contentment
What a beautiful afternoon! A balmy, 32 degree, sunny day! - Stu took me and all 5 kids down on the river with the snowcat and trailer. There were drifts of snow swooping over the tops of the tall, dirt banks along the sides of the curving river of ice. You could see through to the bottom in areas - 3 ft. of dark, clear ice; you could even see the branches at the bottom. We went over deer track trails, and felt "close" to nature - out of sight from the real world.
This morning I was complaining to my Sunday school group that I've got "cabin fever" and we've never been on a honeymoon, though we've been married 11 yrs., etc.... Since we all pray for each other, my prayer for this morning was for contentment.
Then we listened to the sermon. We heard that we have 2 "banks" - one for trust - (our trust in God), and the other for worry/anxiety. If one is full, the other is empty. I got thinking that I hadn't deposited anything into my "trust account" in a while. We also were reminded to lay up for ourselves treasure in Heaven.
It took me back to when we were deciding to adopt. Our thinking then, was that we wanted to lay up treasure in Heaven. I remember last year when we were on a snowcat ride through the country, that I was thinking, "you know, we've got it good - we've been so blessed, -wouldn't it be great to share our blessing with others? Wouldn't some other kids love to go on these rides and be part of a family...?"
And so we did that very thing - we now have 2 more kids to share life with. No, I may never get to Hawaii, or Mexico and walk barefoot along the beach, holding my husband's hand, swim with the dolphins, etc..., but I have confidence that God is preparing a place for me - and it will probably make Hawaii look like, I don't know - peanuts. Besides that, these two extra kids are extra special. They love life, enjoy the things we've long taken for granted, and totally trust their parents.
And so, I sit with one kid on my lap, another two squished beside me, in a homemade trailer behind Dad on his snowcat, who is holding a sleeping baby on his lap, and another behind him. Each kid is happy with life, love their parents, and notice the little things. I am content for now - we can enjoy what's in our own back yard, and trust God for our future.
Thanks for supporting me in my journey!
This morning I was complaining to my Sunday school group that I've got "cabin fever" and we've never been on a honeymoon, though we've been married 11 yrs., etc.... Since we all pray for each other, my prayer for this morning was for contentment.
Then we listened to the sermon. We heard that we have 2 "banks" - one for trust - (our trust in God), and the other for worry/anxiety. If one is full, the other is empty. I got thinking that I hadn't deposited anything into my "trust account" in a while. We also were reminded to lay up for ourselves treasure in Heaven.
It took me back to when we were deciding to adopt. Our thinking then, was that we wanted to lay up treasure in Heaven. I remember last year when we were on a snowcat ride through the country, that I was thinking, "you know, we've got it good - we've been so blessed, -wouldn't it be great to share our blessing with others? Wouldn't some other kids love to go on these rides and be part of a family...?"
And so we did that very thing - we now have 2 more kids to share life with. No, I may never get to Hawaii, or Mexico and walk barefoot along the beach, holding my husband's hand, swim with the dolphins, etc..., but I have confidence that God is preparing a place for me - and it will probably make Hawaii look like, I don't know - peanuts. Besides that, these two extra kids are extra special. They love life, enjoy the things we've long taken for granted, and totally trust their parents.
And so, I sit with one kid on my lap, another two squished beside me, in a homemade trailer behind Dad on his snowcat, who is holding a sleeping baby on his lap, and another behind him. Each kid is happy with life, love their parents, and notice the little things. I am content for now - we can enjoy what's in our own back yard, and trust God for our future.
Thanks for supporting me in my journey!
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