Jack's New Family, An Older Child Adoption Story

The Bad Teeth Gremlins

I finally had a little time today at lunch to write a story for Laura and Apryl to take back to the kids at Michael's orphanage, to persuade them to brush their teeth. The story is below. I would appreciate constructive feedback. I don't want it to be too long or complicated - most of the kids are 6-9 years old. I need to send it to the translator in the next few days, so please reply asap.

I apologize in advance for the spacing goofs -

Michael and The Teeth Gremlins

Michael, a cute little 10 year old boy with brown hair and freckles, was adopted from

Petropavlovsk

, from the Regional Orphanage, in the spring of 2007. He was sad to leave his kind caretakers, and the kids in his group. However, he was glad to be adopted. His name had been Igor, but his American mama let him choose an American name, and he chose Michael.

When he got home, Michael was so happy to be in

America

. It was warm and he played outside a lot. He had a mama, a sister, and a grandmother. He loved his new room and his bed and his toys and clothes.

There was only one problem. Michael didn’t want to eat meat. His big sister, who was adopted from

Russia

, tried to persuade him to eat. She said to him in Russian,

“Michael, you need to eat meat! Then you will grown big and strong!”

His Mother and grandmother said the same thing, in English. They gave him chicken, and beef, and he shook his head sadly. “I don’t want it!” he argued.

Michael’s Mom didn’t understand. She tried to talk to him. He didn’t want to tell her why he didn’t like meat. It was because of his teeth. It seemed like every time he ate meat, Michael’s teeth hurt later. He didn’t understand why they hurt. He was afraid maybe he was a bad boy. Maybe good boys never had tooth pain. He didn’t want his mom to think he was bad, so he didn’t say his teeth hurt.

Michael’s mama made him brush his teeth every night before bed, and every morning after breakfast. She would stand there with him in his big bathroom with two sinks, and brush and brush, up and down, slowly and carefully. Michael tried to brush slowly and carefully, too. Sometimes, it hurt.

At night, Michael slept peacefully under his blue sheets. However, in his mouth, it was another story.

The Gremlins

Mouth gremlins are teeny tiny little creatures that live in your mouth. They have big heads and small black bodies, and they look like roaches. They eat the little particles of food left in your mouth, and get big and strong.

The gremlins love to come out at night, when the humans are sleeping, because then everything is quiet and peaceful.

In

Kazakhstan

, the gremlins ate well. “Hey! Over Here! A big piece of chicken!” the chief gremlin would shout, in Michael’s mouth. He would eat the chicken or the bread, a tiny tiny piece only he could see, and feel very energetic. For fun, he would poke holes in Michael’s teeth, with his long sword.

Before he was adopted, Michael had no idea the gremlins were in his mouth. Sometimes he brushed his teeth. Often he didn’t. He was much more excited about playing and talking to the other children. He didn’t want to take the time to brush his teeth.

Chief Gremlin and his team spent lots of time running around Michael’s mouth, looking for food particles, and poking holes in the teeth. “Ha ha! Look at this HUGE piece of tomato! Look at this terrific bit of cake! Yummy!” the chief would shout, delighted that Michael’s mouth was so dirty.

In

Kazakhstan

, Michael noticed that eating meat hurt, sometimes. Little bits of meat would get stuck in the holes in his teeth, and rub against the nerve, and it really really hurt. Sometimes it hurt to eat ice cream, too. He stopped eating much meat.

The Gremlins in

America

In

America

, the gremlins became furious at Michael. They couldn’t have picnics in his mouth any more. He was brushing his teeth every day. They got very angry. They started jumping in the holes in Michael’s teeth and slashing their swords around in the tender nerves inside the teeth. Michael’s teeth often hurt. He didn’t want to eat meat. He didn’t want to even eat ice cream, because the cold hurt his teeth.

One day, Michael’s mom took him to the dentist. Michael was so scared. He had been to the dentist in

Kazakhstan

, and it had hurt, a LOT.

Even though his sister was sitting close by, translating everything into Russian, and his mom was sitting close by rubbing his leg to comfort him, Michael was scared. Big tears leaked down his face while the dentist, a kind older man named Dr. Johnson, worked on Michael’s mouth.

Dr. Johnson took a long needle, and gave Michael a shot in his gum. Michael’s mouth got numb. This was scary. He couldn’t feel anything. Then, Dr. Johnson took a drill, and drilled in Michael’s mouth. ZZZZZZZZZ went the drill, with a high-pitched mechanical whine. It was terrible to hear. Dr. Johnson filled 2 of Michael’s teeth!

The gremlins hid inside Michael’s mouth. They hated the whine of the drill, too.  They were upset to discover that two of their favorite cavities were now off limits! They were filled with bright silver! They jumped up and down and poked the other teeth with holes. Michael’s mouth hurt.

Two weeks later, Michael had to go back to Dr. Johnson and get 4 more teeth filled. He cried and cried, not because it hurt, but because he was scared. Dr. Johnson gave him nitrous oxide, to relax him, and once again numbed the area where he had to drill. Michael still hated the ZZZZZZZZ sound of the drill.

While Dr. Johnson worked, Michael’s mom sat and rubbed his leg, to remind him she was there. When Michael cried, she cried. She hated to see her son in pain.

After it was over, Dr. Johnson explained to Michael that the more he brushed his teeth, the fewer times he would have to have the drill in his mouth. He told Michael he had been a good boy, and he gave Michael a hug.

After that ordeal, Michael was good about brushing his teeth. One nights, though, he was soooo tired. After watching a movie, Michael told his mom he didn’t want to brush his teeth. He just wanted to go to bed.

Michael’s Mom looked at him and said “Michael, do you want to go back to Dr. Johnson, and get more teeth filled? Remember this sound?” she said, and imitated the terrible ZZZZZZ sound of the drill. Michael shook his head fearfully. “No!” he shouted.

“OK, then you have to brush your teeth,” his mom explained kindly. “The more you brush, the fewer cavities you will have. Come on, Sweetie.”

In Michael’s mouth, the gremlins heard this. They started jumping up and down and yelling “NO NO NO! Don’t brush your teeth! We have no food! We are getting weaker and weaker! Soome of us are dying! Soon we won’t be able to poke our swords into your teeth!”

Michael didn’t hear this of course. He just grabbed his toothbrush and brushed, up and down, back and front. He went to bed a few minutes later, his teeth feeling clean and shiny, his breath smelling like mint. Many gremlins died that night.

After he got used to having six teeth with shiny new fillings, Michael noticed something strange and wonderful. It didn’t hurt to eat! He could eat chicken, and pork, and steak. He liked pokr with spicy barbeque sauce. He liked ice cream cones. He could chew and chew, and never had the terrible stabbing pains any more.

Michael gained weight, and he grew taller. He even felt new teeth coming into his mouth.

The few gremlins still alive got thinner and weaker. The brush seemed to be in Michael’s mouth all the time! There were no food particles! They finally just became very quiet.

And Michael smiled a lot more.

The Road to Wellville

I have felt better today, but still not great. I couldn’t go to work. There were stomach issues, and the 30 minute commute was not doable; let’s just leave it at that.

I started feeling more human late this afternoon, despite a residual headache. Alesia’s news that she had finally started her period helped – we’ve had several weeks of PMS. Maybe now I will get my sweet girl back… [pray for us]

However inconvenient my issues are, they pale in comparison to my friend Cindy, who spent all day trying to get her mentally ill son into a mental hospital. I read her blog every day, and my heart goes out to her. http://www.thebodiebunch.blogspot.com/

Then there’s my friend Melisaa, whose two little girls she just brought home from Ukraine, both have some serious health issues. Plus, like all little girls and adolescent girls adopted from Eastern Europe, they want to dress like little hoochy mamas. Alesia didn’t fight me too much about her clothes when I first got her, but then she had never had any decent clothes in her life, and I think she was just grateful to have any decent clothes. Here’s Melissa’s blog: http://melissadrew-adoption.blogspot.com/

The kids and I watched Twins tonight, the old Danny DeVita, Arnold Schwartzenegger comedy. I had forgotten there’s a lot in there about the whole “nature v. nurture” debate. In Eastern Europe, the terrible prejudice against orphans is basically a product of people who believe we are all destined to be like our parents – if they are alcoholic, or criminal, or crazy, we will be too. The judge in Kaz asked me why I would want a child from such a bad background. I was speechless. I don’t even recall what I said.

Anyway, I told the kids tonight, “You are unique human beings, both of you. You might be like your birth parents, or you might not. I’m not much like my parents. What’s important is who loves you and who raises you. I don’t care who gave birth to you, I’M your mama!” Michael smiled at me and hugged me. Alesia looked uncomfortable.

Alesia told me tonight, in front of Michael, she needs to buy a lot of “T’s” – I was clueless. Finally, I got it. She needs tampons. She was too embarrassed to say it in front of Michael. When she left the room, Michael wanted to know what she meant. I just said “Michael, it’s a girl thing. Just forget it.” He kept pushing. Finally I just said “Do you know where babies come from?” He grinned. “Yes!” he said. “Really?” He looked abashed. “OK, NO, I don’t know.”

“Fine. One of these days, we will talk about where babies come from.” Lord, I dread that talk. I’m considering what my father did with my brother – put him in the car going 75 mph so he couldn’t escape THE TALK. Problem is, I can’t talk about reproduction and drive at the same time. I’m not skilled at that sort of multitasking. Maybe I should just borrow Alesia’s biology book…

Sick Chick

I have been feeling rotten most of the day. It started yesterday, actually, but I managed to do what I needed to do, and this morning I was OK except for a little nausea. When I got to work though, after 1 cup of tea, I felt like I just wanted to throw up, faint, and sleep for about 40 hours. I couldn’t get anything done. I finally left and came home and slept for most of the day.

I took Alesia to another event at school last night. Her science teacher, who is a Ph.D. in biology, held a workshop to help kids learn to take better notes. She is having several of these workshops throughout the fall, and encourages parents and students to attend. She is young and energetic. I liked her.

We heard a lecture about the Cornell method of note taking, which is basically read, reduce, review, etc. – 5 R’s, but I cannot remember them all. Afterward, the kids were asked to analyze the notes about note taking and make a chart comparing the different steps. Alesia got a chart made, but all we had time for was me explaining to her the different steps. I don’t think she was capable of analyzing them. It was very depressing for me, watching her sit there and struggle to comprehend. I sent an e-mail to her teacher today thanking her for her time and explaining that we may need an IEP for Alesia. I don’t think she is grasping what she’s being asked to analyze. I am not certain she will ever be able to do that. She’s a literal, concrete thinker.

On a brighter note, I managed to take Michael to Karate class tonight. I felt really weak, but it’s only 5 minutes from the house and I had promised to take him to observe a class, since his friend Kevin takes it. I liked the teacher, and I signed up Michael. He had fun, and he needs to be with other little boys.

When I came home I was just wiped out tired, though. The nausea comes and goes, but my head is killing me, and I feel woozy, in waves. Haven’t thrown up yet but I really have WANTED to, which is worse. I hope I feel a lot better tomorrow.

Lakeside High

I took Alesia to a meeting of 9th grade parents last night at Lakeside, her school. The purpose was to let parents know what was needed in order for the kids to graduate in 4 years - courses, grades, test scores, etc.

Alesia needs 20 hours of community service a year. I asked if something from last summer would qualify and they said yes. So I e-mailed the youth minister and asked, if Alesia brought her the form, would she sign it, just verifying that Alesia did community service in Passport? She helped clean out hurricane damaged houses for several hours each day, so I think that should count.

There were almost no kids at the meeting, but I thought it was good for Alesia to go. They passed out a handout showing what a grade transcript looks like, the course requirements to graduate, etc. The meeting was run by one of the school counselors. Alesia had no idea what the SAT is – I assumed teachers had told her. Nope.

Lakeside is known for being an excellent school. It’s the main reason we live where we live. Over 90% of the kids go on to college after graduation. However, there are 590 freshmen this year. The principal said it was “a challenge” to the school. A lot of kids transferred to Lakeside from other districts, with permission. Some class sizes have to be adjusted because they are way too big. The principal said they aren’t accepting any more freshmen, which is a blessing.

Before the meeting, Alesia had showed me a handout from her Science teacher about a meeting at 5:30 today. It’s some sort of workshop to help kids take better notes and have better study skills. I think it’s a great thing to do, but it sure makes for a long day for me. I am going to have to ask to eat lunch at my desk and leave early to run home and get Alesia, and get to the meeting. I just wish she had told me sooner.

Last night I was up with Alesia until almost 11, finishing up a project for Science. I told her she HAS to get better informed about when things are due, and mark them down in her planner book. I told her she should’ve done that project over the weekend, not waited until the night before. She had to use my computer, so I couldn’t just go to bed.

She said she has a test today in Civics, but she has studied for it.

I am really concerned about whether or not she is listening in class, and really understanding what she is being told. Her learning disability and the language differences are becoming apparent. They say when a child comes to a foreign country to live and study that it takes 5 years to become academically proficient in the new language. Alesia has been here 3 years.

We let Michael watch a great movie, Fly Away Home, while we were gone. He missed me terribly, he said. I missed him. It was hard to get him settled down to bed. Tonight I have to spend more time away. I hate that. I have to help Alesia, though.

Blubbering Mess

It was a very tumultuous day yesterday, and not just due to the thunderstorms that rolled in.

My regular Sunday school class hasn’t been meeting because the pastor is on leave this month, so I’ve wandered around to observe. Yesterday there was a lecture in the Family Life Center by the husband of our assistant pastor. He is the head of the Methodist Children’s Home in Decatur.

Alesia saw me go in there and wandered in because there was a light breakfast buffet. To my amazement and some discomfort, she stayed for Richard’s entire presentation.

I sat and listened, and drank some coffee. After the Introduction, one of the first things Richard said was “At the United Methodist Children’s Home the first thing we try to give each child is LOVE.” Well, the minute he said that, big tears welled up in my eyes. I don’t really know why. I guess because I’ve been to orphanages and seen so many children who didn’t get enough love, and weren’t getting it in the orphanages. The Russian way is to be very strict about their diet and exercise and physical habits, but the caretakers are usually harried and understaffed, and love isn’t the number one priority. Perhaps it touched me so much because I realize, from seeing my own children, how much children from broken, alcoholic, chaotic homes need love, and more importantly how they thrive and blossom, just with a little love and care. I don’t really know. I know I had to leave the lecture, because I had to run to the bathroom and cry. I eventually went back and stodd just outside the door and listened.

The service was difficult, because it was our music minister's last Sunday, and there was a lot in the service about that. I had to recite times tables in my head to not cry, then.

Of course, I also started my period and I was very hormonal yesterday.

After church, the whole family went with me down to midtown, and we met my friend Laura and her daughter for lunch. It was a fun lunch, because Laura is a lively, energetic person. She lives way south of the city, so we felt midtown was sort of halfway. Laura is with the Antares Foundation, and she is leaving in a couple of weeks to go to Petropavlovsk and visit orphanages, including the Regional where Michael was housed. I gave her the toothbrushes for the kids in the orphanage, and some donations for toothpaste. I also gave her a letter for Tatiana, at the orphanage, about Michael.

On the way home, Mother and I were trying to talk and the kids kept horsing around in the back, making noise, distracting us. Finally I just blew up and told them both that once we got home, they were going to their rooms.

When we got home, the kids went to their rooms, and Mother sat down in the family room for her nap. I checked e-mail. I was so upset, I finally crawled in the bed and just cried. I was in total despair over how to get through to Alesia. I prayed about it. I hadn’t been crying long, when in came Michael, to hug me and comfort me. A few minutes later, there was Alesia. I sent Michael back to his room after reassuring him I was OK.

Alesia and I talked a long time. I won’t reveal everything that was said, but I saw afterwards yesterday that she is going to try and do better. We will still have a lot of challenges. She is a typical teenager. She did promise to try and not get angry at everything I say.

When Alesia was at youth group, Michael and I went to his friend Kevin’s house, which is not far at all from where we live. Kevin is a lively only child. His parents are both teachers. We sat and chatted while the boys played, and it was very pleasant. Kevin is in Karate, and I think I am going to sign Michael up for that. He was very excited at the prospect. Michael did some karate kicks, after Kevin showed him how, and he was impressive. Michael is a little warrior, which is terrific.

Of course, my kids have had to fight their whole lives. That's why they survived.

Do We Want WHAT?

We had a very full day yesterday.

I got up early and took Michael to Jiffy Lube, because the oil in my car desperately needed changing. We then went to the grocery store, all of us. We were home by noon.

Lesleigh came by and had a sandwich with us for lunch. We had a good visit. She is working for a company that sells insurance coverage to businesses, and I gave her some of my formal business type clothes I no longer wear, because they are too small. She has to give presentations, and all her business clothes are too small. Interesting serendipity there.

Alesia and Elena spent the afternoon at Alesia’s school, for a carnival to raise money for the sports programs. It wasn’t a very lively looking affair – one or two games and displays. The girls are close friends though, and had a good visit, which was important.

I took Michael and we went to the new Walmart on Chamblee Tucker Road. It’s a super Walmart with an underground garage. I parked outside before I realized there was a garage. Oh well. We found Michael only one pair of dress pants, but a couple of shirts, for church. He is into a size 10 slim now. I can look at him and see he has gotten bigger. I also got him a computer game and a movie. He spent a great deal of time looking at toys, but didn’t choose one. He is getting old enough to not want the little kid toys any more.

After we took Elena home, we rode around a bit, to get Granny out of the house, plus I wanted to show her an interesting housing development near the Jiffy Lube. They are large houses, brand new, built to look like 1940’s Craftsmen bungalows – but very large bungalows, probably 4,000 square feet or more. Their selling price is around $400K. They are quite attractive. The strange thing to me is they are not in a very good area of town. They are very near a rather seedy and rundown section of Lawrenceville Highway.

As we left that area and headed out to dinner, we passed Taggart’s driving school. I said my standard remark to Alesia as we passed: “There’s where you’ll learn to drive one of these days.” The remark had hardly left my mouth when Mother muttered, sotto voce, “If we’ve got the guts.” I just burst out laughing. Mother laughed. I don’t think Alesia laughed. I couldn’t look at her.

When I learned to drive, it was a family effort. Mother and Dad thought they taught me, but they didn’t. My brother taught me, every time my parents went out at night, for two years. We’d get in Mother’s old Pontiac, and go driving in rain, sleet, snow, fog, you name it. I was a terrible driver, for a long time. There was much mutilated shrubbery and even a mailbox or two, before I became the wonderful driver I am now.

Alesia has been in a very foul mood the last few days, and I have PMS also, so things have been quite tense. Every remark I make, she snipes at, suggesting I am being mean or unfair to her. Yesterday on the way to the store I pulled the car over and told her that she was going to have to adjust her attitude. Every time I ask a simple question she acts like I am persecuting her, she raises her voice, and her whole demeanor changes to a snarling little pill. It’s really getting on my nerves. She did get a bit better after I fussed at her yesterday. She thought I was horrible to make her do homework before she could see Elena. Mean old mom, that’s me.

We had dinner tonight at my favorite Chinese restaurant. It was a wildly entertaining evening. There was a little man there doing magic, and he came to the table. Michael was enchanted.

As soon as we sat down, we realized we were saddled with a nice waiter who spoke English quite clearly, but had some pronunciation mistakes.

He first said to us: “Soosee?”

I looked at him in puzzlement. Mother looked at him.

“Soo-see? You like soo-see?” he repeated.

It was getting awkward. I said “I’m sorry…?”

“Soo-see?”

I was thinking, sauce? Susie? Who is she? Finally it dawned on me. “Do we want SUSHI?!

“Yes!” he said, grinning.

Mother was already looking horrified. “NO! We don’t like sushi!”

The children just looked startled.

“No, thanks.” I said, smiling at him.

He later brought Mother a glass of “wen” and asked the kids if they wanted something that sounded like “ass cream.” It was very hard not to giggle.

Lounging Around

Michael has come home and said, the last couple of days, that his teacher told him to go to bed at 8:00.  I know why she has said that. So I sent her an e-mail today, on my lunch hour:

Hi Ms. Moore:

I wanted to just clarify something which may not be clear, in regards to Michael’s weariness and sleeping. I make sure he gets about 8-9 hours of sleep every school night, and he naps in the afternoon for 30 minutes to an hour, with his grandmother in the room. So he is getting plenty of sleep.

I know he is exhibiting some rather odd behaviors, being lethargic and lounging as much as possible but I think there are a couple of explanations.

When my daughter first came home from Russia, she found the car unbearable. She always tried to sleep in the car. She had only been in a car a few times in her life, and it scared her. It was about 6 months before she stopped reclining the seat back and hiding from the view out the window by curling up in a fetal position. It was a stress reaction.

We have admonished Michael at home, and told him he has to sit up straight, not put his head down on the table, not try to lie down and sleep every time he has to sit quietly. I think it’s really his way of dealing with the stress of his whole life being turned upside down recently. Even good change is overwhelming sometimes, especially to a child.

Some of it may be a reaction to the heat. He has never in his life experienced these kinds of temperatures. Right now in Petropavlovsk, Kazakhstan, the high today is 63. A high in the mid 80’s is considered really hot. There is snow on the ground all but about 3 months of the year. I heard a weatherman yesterday say we have had over 20 days now of temperatures close to or over 100.

Adopted children always have a great deal of stress in their lives when they first come home. Everything is new, and strange. The food tastes weird, to them. People look different. Everything smells different. Towns are bigger and more busy and everyone hurries. They are in cars and big stores, and doing things we find perfectly routine, but they are stressed out, because it’s so strange to them. Even though life is much better than the orphanage, it’s still very, very stressful. They have to grieve for the old life. I occasionally find Michael crying because he misses his friends from the orphanage, and everything that was familiar.

I also know, personally, that living in another country is terribly hard. I lived in Kazakhstan for a month during the adoption. I found myself napping during the day, and sleeping far more than normal. I was mentally and emotionally so far outside my comfort zone, that I was tired all the time. It was common to all the Americans [3 other families] staying there at the same time.

Michael has done so amazingly well, I think everyone tends to forget that he is still under a lot of stress. For the first time in his life, he has to communicate in a totally new language. Sometimes he gets frustrated because he doesn’t know the English word for something, and his sister can’t remember the Russian word. He also has many more demands placed on him to behave and conform. He has to bathe every day, and wear clean clothes. He has to brush his teeth every day. The school day is much longer than the 4-5 hours he was used to in Kazakhstan. He doesn’t have a slew of other boys to play with all the time.

When I advise other parents about how to help their older adopted children when they first come home, I always say, try to get them into a routine. Try to understand they need rote and familiarity, as much as possible, because everything seems strange and frightening to them, whether they show it or not. Some children have tantrums. Some withdraw. They don’t need any sports or activities for a while, until they get accustomed to being in America. So I am trying to follow my own advice. Michael stays pretty much on schedule all the time, and he doesn’t exhibit the lethargic behavior nearly as much now as when he first came home.

School has changed his easy summer routine. He was used to playing with his sister, going to the store, swimming every day, etc. and he was happy with the routine. Now it’s totally different. I think that within the next few months, he will be less stressed about school, and we will see a more happy, relaxed boy.

Thanks, as always, for being supportive –

Dee

Let There Be Rain!

I have nothing particularly interesting to say, other than this. Last night, as I was driving home, I wished for rain. We had only a 20% chance, according to the radio. I said "Lord, we need rain. It's so dusty and dry, Mom's allergies are making her miserable. My gardens need rain. We NEED us a good thunderstorm." I didn't expect much but I figured it never hurts to ask.

I got home and Alesia and Michael were happily doing their homework in Granny's room. Mother is their tutor, a job which relieves me greatly - I can come home and relax. About 30 minutes after I came home - rain! A big 'ol thunderstorm. Thanks, God.

I posted new photos...

About Wednesday

Yesterday was horribly busy, a hectic day, both at work and at home. I spent my lunch hour paying bills, which didn’t lessen the stress of the day – what a surprise.

I got a call from our family dentist and he agreed to donate toothbrushes for the kids at the orphanage. Yay! I also got kind e-mails from several folks who are contributing to Antares, and that’s a huge blessing.

Michael had a project for school of putting continents on a blank piece of construction paper, making his own world map. It was tough for me to even help him. I got home, was trying to eat a snack before choir practice, visit with Mother, etc. and had to help do the project. Then he told me it wasn’t due until Friday. The fact that he didn’t get yelled at is a testament to the power of his cuteness.

I looked at the photo of him and Alesia taken the other day, the first day of school, and he looks very grown up. I got an eerie feeling. I could embellish it, in my mind’s eye, and see a vision of him as a grown man. He will be very attractive, I think. Not that I’m prejudiced.

We had a great choir rehearsal last night. It was our director’s last rehearsal with us, since he’s leaving. We worked a lot on John Rutter’s "For The Beauty of the Earth" – one of my favorite songs, just beautiful. I like all Rutter’s music. It’s sort of simple but elegant, quite unlike most “church music.” We worked on another couple of pieces, and they were rather blah. One of them has a passage that sounds like the theme to Gone With the Wind. I kept hearing Vivien Leigh, in my mind, wailing “Oh Rhett, if you go, what will I do? Where will I go?!” and Clark Gable’s terse reply “Frankly my dear, I don’t give a d***.” Not very spiritual thoughts, but every time I heard that derivative little refrain the famous scene popped into my head.

Another song we sang last night sounds like the theme to the movie Junior. [If you don’t know the movie, it came out a number of years ago and features Arnold Schwartzenegger as a pregnant man – very funny movie. I own it.] Whoever wrote the theme song for Junior either heard this Christian musical piece, or vice versa. That’s OK, really – made it quicker for me to learn it, at least the melody. I like the movie theme better – the title of it, comically, is "Look At What Love Has Done To Me."

When I got home, Michael was in the shower. We finally got everyone settled, and watched the last part of the movie Ladyhawke, which is one of my favorite movies. It helps get everybody calmed down to watch a movie before bed, even if only for a short time. TV revs them up, on the other hand, so I avoid it.

I had sharp words for Alesia last night just before leaving for choir practice, because she had spent an inordinate amount of time choosing clothes to wear today, instead of doing English. I regretted it all through practice, although she has to quit messing with clothes and hair so much and get serious about studying. When I got home, she said right off the bat "I did my English!" and I was stalking around the kitchen muttering to myself. She said "You look stressed." I looked at her and said "I need a hug." She gave me a long hug, and didn't want to let go. I almost cried. I forget she is such a mixture of young lady and little girl, and needs reassurance often. I just ask God every day to help me be a better mother to her.

Helping Michael's Friends Left Behind

My friend Apryl with the Antares Foundation is going to Petropavlovsk in early September. I have been pondering how to help the kids in Michael’s group in some meaningful way.

I have decided I am going to give Laura and Apryl money for toothpaste and some new brushes to take to the kids in Michael’s group. I am also going to write a little story about the importance of brushing your teeth.

I sent this letter below to Dr. Johnson, our family dentist, to see if he would help.

I have a friend, Apryl Brock, who is with The Antares Foundation. She is heading over to Kazakhstan in early September, and will visit Michael’s orphanage, and the kids in his family group. There are about 20 kids in the group, although they have added some kids since Michael left back in May.

I am a writer. I am going to write a little story about Michael’s ordeal getting his teeth filled, to illustrate how important it is to brush teeth. The caretakers don’t make the kids brush, except sometimes after breakfast. The dentists in Kazakhstan don’t use novocaine when filling teeth – so no wonder Michael was terrified, and cried. They also encourage the kids to rip out loose teeth too quickly, which probably causes some complications. Michael has a lot of English now, and he says the dentist pulled out teeth which were not even loose yet! Considering the overall poor quality of medical care in that country, I am not surprised.

My friend Apryl says she doesn’t mind taking some toothbrushes to the orphanage. They can buy toothpaste there, cheaper that here. I was hoping perhaps you knew of a dental charity which might consider donating 20-25 toothbrushes? I was also wondering where I could get a booklet or handout perhaps, aimed at encouraging kids to brush? I can get it translated. I am going to also get donations for toothpaste.

Any assistance you can give me with this project would be greatly appreciated. I am going to try and get everything to Apryl in the next couple of weeks.

You can check out the Antares Foundation here: www.antares-orphans.com/

You can send a check to the foundation and it’s tax deductible. Send it to:

Antares Foundation
c/o Laura Rosier
148 Tanglewood Ln.
Sharpsburg, GA 30277

I have personally met Laura, Apryl, and Boris, the person in Petropavlovsk, and they are wonderful, caring folks, who try very hard to help the children.

I decided to focus on dental hygiene because I hate the thought of any of the children being in pain. Michael was in pain when he first came home, due to poor dental hygiene. I am hoping and praying if I get a good response, perhaps we can buy new toothbrushes and/or toothpaste for all the kids in the orphanage.

I thank God every day I got my son out of there. He is such a joy. However, I will never forget the faces of those children left behind. When I see their faces I want to cry, and scream at the injustice of the world.

If you would prefer to send a donation right to me, e-mail me and I’ll send you my address.

Thanks,

Dee