The Crab Chronicles

The Last 2006 Post

December 31, 2006 Happy Birthday Mother!

Exactly 73 years ago tonight, my mother was born. She was the third child, and the only girl. She was NOT spoiled, despite being the youngest and a girl, she will quickly tell you!

I feel remiss in not having posted in several days, but things have been hectic.

Alesia got tutored for several hours yesterday, and while that happened I had a chance to do some writing. I actually finished my revision of the manuscript of Adopting Alesia. I will get it to the publisher within the next few days. I am anxious to find out if she thinks it’s publishable. If she thinks it really needs a lot of work I will have to go back to square one, and I have little time to write, so who knows when it will ever get published.

I am reading a great book, the autobiography of actress Ellen Burstyn. She talks not only about her life, which has been quite colorful – was abused as a child, quit high school, married 3 times, starred in The Exorcist, etc. – but about her interior journey. She was raised Catholic, but has educated herself on a wide range of topics, and explored her spirituality in a lot of different ways – meditation, yoga, Sufism. Sounds like a typical wacky Hollywood chick, but she’s not. I’ve read a lot of celebrity autobiographies and this is one of the most intelligent and thoughtful things I’ve ever read.

Mother had planned to go to church, then out to a nice lunch today, but the weather was really bad – pouring rain – so she stayed in. Alesia and I went to church. We picked up lunch from Red Lobster and had a fancy lunch at home. Mother’s arthritis acts up when the weather is like this, even though it’s not really cold – in the 60’s.

Over the last few days, Alesia has alternated between being a total pill and being sweet, but the pill states have predominated. At lunch, she lashed out at me and Mother, after Mother asked her to refrigerate the salad, saying she would NOT eat the salad! Mother and I just looked at each other in astonishment, and reminded Alesia we never said a word about eating the salad.

Lesleigh came over tonight and we were telling her about it, and she said it sounds like it’s just hormonal. Alesia does get bad PMS. I asked Les if she thought I needed to get Alesia to a therapist and she said no. Les is our unofficial family psychotherapist, since she has her master’s in psychology.

We didn’t feel like going out tonight, so at Mother’s request we had hors d’ouvres for dinner, and birthday cake. Alesia and I made Mother an Apricot Brandy Pound Cake. After Les had left, my friend Paul came over and we had a good visit.

We are making no effort to stay up until midnight. We never try. We are old fogies and proud of it.

Coco proved once again last night that she is, despite evidence to the contrary, a brilliant dog. Alesia was carrying her upstairs last night and Mother asked Alesia to come back down and cut off the tree lights. Alesia set Coco down on the landing, and said to her “Now you go on upstairs and wait for me. I will be up in a minute.” Coco looked at her resignedly and walked up the stairs and got on Alesia’s bed like OK, I did what you asked.

Now if only I could make Alesia obey as easily!

Happy New Year!

Musings

Wednesday, December 27, 2006

I posted a fairly long piece yesterday about the facts of our holiday, and I think it was fine, to keep everyone informed, but there have been several small things that have happened in the last few days which I thought were worth noting.

When I was adopting Alesia, Bruce thought it was a terrible idea, at first. He thought I was getting into a situation where I was doomed to either get duped by the Russians and lose a lot of money, or worse yet, get a child who was so emotionally screwed up that I would never be able to help her. Of course, he was wrong on both counts. However, I can't really argue with him when he gets into these fear-based states, which is maddening. How do you explain faith? I refuse to let fear rule my life. That's not to say I don't fear things - I do, sometimes. There are moments of fear I experience. However, I have taught myself to reflexively say a prayer for God to remove the fear and he does. Then I can breathe deeply and think clearly and God shows me the way out.

When Bruce was home the last time, a few months ago, Alesia, Lesleigh and I were in Mother's room and I called Bruce to come in there and look at a photo of Matthew on the computer. He popped his head in for a moment, a look of great consternation on his face, and retreated. He said he didn't want to see any photos until I actually walked off the plane with the boy. That was fear talking. Lesleigh pointed out that he is also afraid of feeling affection for a little boy in a photo, who may not ever be part of our family, due to some bureaucratic snafu.

On Christmas Day, I saw a break in the façade. He brought two shirts of his, two army fatigue shirts with his rank and insignia on them. He handed them to Alesia saying "One of these is for you, one is for your little brother." Alesia beamed.

When I adopted Alesia, he didn't really accept that I was actually coming home with her and things would be OK, until I had her at the hotel in Moscow. I remember looking at an e-mail in the hotel's business center, in which he was asking if she might like a backpack with her name on it. When he saw her a few days later, he presented her with the backpack and an enormous stuffed dog, which she promptly christened Big Coco and she sleeps with it to this day. This time, he designated a present for my boy before the adoption hearing, so I feel like we are making some progress. I hope and pray one day he will be able to have faith.

A Funny: One day late last week Alesia looked at Mother and me and said "What language do they speak in New York?"

After I got through laughing I said "They speak a strange version of English."

We stayed up late yesterday watching the Kennedy Center Honors. Alesia watched with us - a good way for her to get a little crash course in American culture. The honorees were: Zubin Mehta, Smokey Robinson, Andrew Lloyd Webber, Dolly Parton, and Stephen Spielberg. It's one of the few things on television I make an effort to watch every year, and Mother will watch with us. It's a classy show.

I told Alesia the story of how, when my father had cancer and I was driving back and forth to Augusta every weekend, I would listen to books on tape a lot, to help me with the boring drive. I listened to Dolly Parton's autobiography, and really enjoyed it. Mother explained to Alesia a little about how Dolly has helped the people of East Tennessee to find jobs [in Dollywood], and offered scholarships to college, for kids in Sevierville who finished high school. I seized upon a learning opportunity. "Do you know the word INTEGRITY, Sweetie?" Alesia shook her head. "Dolly Parton is the definition of the word. She came from a dirt poor background, worked hard, helped her 8 younger siblings to go to college and live decently, helped her parents, gave back to her community by creating jobs and educational opportunities." I went on in some detail. When I finished, I asked her if that helped her to understand "integrity" and she nodded, her eyes wide.

It's really hard to explain words like "integrity" and "honor" and "respect" to her, so I look for solid ways to illustrate what those words mean. That’s not always easy.

Christmas Here

December 26, 2006

We had a nice holiday, very laid-back.

Church Sunday was rather funny, because the minister’s sermon was about the importance of singing – as a metaphor for expressing oneself, I think. He talked a lot about singing out and using it as a way to be joyful, praise, relax, etc. By the end of it I was ready to cut loose. However, the hymn right after the sermon was “Lo How a Rose E’re Blooming” which is a quiet, gentle song! Nobody was doing a whole lot of blooming on that one. I really like the pastor at this little church – he’s enthusiastic, direct, and his sermons always make a good point. In the Episcopal church, most sermons are a cure for insomnia.

We went to lunch afterwards at a restaurant called Smokey Bones, which is becoming a favorite place. We ate in, and ordered some barbeque and salad to go, to eat Sunday night. We didn’t want to have to cook a big dinner on Christmas Eve.

I had to fuss at Alesia at lunch though. Mother was suggesting menu choices to her, and she snapped back saying “I will CHOOSE what I want to eat!” I was not at the table, but boy did it tick me off when Mother told me that. I told Alesia she needed to hear herself, hear how rude and ugly that sounded, and we would simply not put up with that sort of remark. It happened again that night, Christmas Eve, when I put her to bed, and I reiterated the lecture about being sweet to me and Granny. She was not raised to be polite and diplomatic, and we are having such a hard time breaking her of the habit of being bossy and defensive and making snotty remarks. I think she truly doesn’t understand how ugly she sounds, but as I told Mother, the only way to make her learn good manners is to point out when she says things rudely.

We were disappointed Sunday afternoon when Bruce called and said he had been called in to work overtime because another guy had called in sick. So he worked 12 hours on Sunday, and just waited and came in Monday morning. I kept busy all Sunday afternoon, making brownies and preparing little goody plates for the neighbors. Alesia delivered them for me. By Sunday evening though, we were tired and we just vegged out in front of the TV. We just had sandwiches for dinner, and munched on goodies. We watched an Adam Sandler movie called “50 First Dates.” I had forgotten how much I hate commercials, because I so seldom watch TV.

Yesterday morning, Christmas, we got up and got things going around 8ish, and let Alesia open 3 presents. She got another lecture. I had bought her some size 4 pants and she turned up her nose because they were a tad bit big – not loose mind you, just a tad bit big in the waist. Russian women want very fitted clothes. However, I pointed out to Alesia that she will grow, and she should be grateful to have pants to grow into. Her size 2 jeans from last summer are getting very tight. She bought herself some size 3 pants last week at Target with a gift card, but they will be too small one day soon. None of my arguments seemed to make a dent with her – she kept looking defiant and saying she didn’t like clothes too big. Really ticked me off. Finally, Mother said “Alesia, your mother goes without new clothes and a lot of things, just so you can have nice clothes. We are not rich.”  I told her she had a choice, she could either take the pants, or give them back to me and I would return them and get a refund - but not get her a smaller pair, since she had shown such a bad attitude She chose to keep them. She went upstairs to her room. When she came back down a little while later, she apologized to us.

Mother has agreed not to ask Alesia how things were in Russia, at the orphanage. I almost never bring it up, but I agreed to drop it completely, too. Mother had asked Alesia at lunch Sunday something about Christmas in Russia, about her favorite Christmas memory. Alesia didn’t say a word, just stared down at her plate. The waiter came over about then and the subject was dropped. I told Mother later, when we were alone, that I didn’t think she should’ve asked that. I doubt Alesia recalls any Christmas with her birth family, since she was so small and they lived in dire poverty. Christmas at the orphanage was probably nothing much. I have one photo of her at Christmas, from Christmas 2003, and she looked miserable, clutching a small gift given to her by a missionary. She has told us that the caretakers decorated a Christmas tree for the kids, but I doubt that – they didn’t even have enough food.

Alesia's memory is a very odd thing. She swore up and down the other day that we filled the Christmas stockings and  hung them up before Christmas, and we told her no, we hang them empty, take them down and fill them Christmas Eve, and open them the next day, but we never hang them filled – they would fall! She swore we were wrong. I think it’s just the FAS revealing itself, again.

Bruce finally arrived Christmas morning, and we had fun opening the presents. He seemed to actually like several of his presents I got for him, which was a relief. He also seemed to be more at home in our house, which was nice. Last year things were more stressed, and I can only think it was because Mother still wasn’t 100% and Alesia’s English was still lagging way behind. Alesia loved all of her presents, and was quite gracious about the odd things her uncle gave her – like an old fatigue jacket from his army days, and fatigue shirts, plus assorted food items he buys in bulk. Fortunately, he thought to buy her some earrings, which delighted her.

Christmas lunch was great, since we had the barbeque. The only awkward moment came when I said the blessing. I was so sad because I always ask God to be with those we love who aren’t with us, and as I added “Be with my boy in Kazakhstan” I almost couldn’t get out the words. I tried not to think about him, and what he was doing, but I failed. I got my best Christmas present this morning! I was so thrilled to get on the Antares Foundation website and see the photos of my boy and his group going on their Christmas outing, to the movies and to a café and playground. That was partially funded by donations from me and Mother.

Click on the link below to see.

http://antares-orphans.org/a_rbs635.asp

It’s sort of hard to spot Matthew – here’s how to find him:

- look at the top left photo captioned We go to the cinema and he is on the far left, smiling. Right next to it is a photo called In the Cinema and he is in the foreground, turned in profile

- Look at the bottom right corner, and he’s at the end of the table, eating, with eyes closed.

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It sort of amazes me that James Brown, the Godfather of Soul, is dead. He packed a lot of hard living into 73 years. He was a fixture around Augusta – tearing around town, scaring other drivers. Sometime in the late 1960’s he came into the First National Bank, when my father was vice president. Dad noticed the tellers were all having a fit and he asked somebody what was going on. They said James Brown had come into the bank. Dad was a Sinatra fan – he had no idea who James Brown was, or why he was famous. He walked over, shook James’ hand, and said his usual spiel, “Good morning Mr. Brown, I’m Tony Thompson, so nice to see you today. I’ll be glad to help you in any way I can.”  Afterwards, all the tellers were incredulous that Dad was so calm. When Dad told me the story he just laughed.

At dinner tonight I did my imitation of James Brown while saying the blessing - OWWW! Mother and I got the giggles and nearly fell off our chairs laughing. Alesia just looked at us like, Y'all are nuts!

Holiday Preparations

Saturday, December 23, 2006

We've had a busy day. We were up early, and got to the Fresh Market by 9:30 or so. We bought a beef tenderloin to have for Christmas day, and a few other items. Then we brought Mother home, and headed to Kroger for the rest of the groceries. We had a quick lunch. Then I started baking  - pumpkin bread and brownies.

Alesia has NOT been in a good mood all day. Not sure why. Mother thinks PMS, and she may be right. I think it may be that, plus she's excited about Christmas and can't wait.

Elena Barr came over about 3 and she and Alesia were soon squealing away, as only they can do...

My new friend Kathy came over about 4 with her newly adopted Russian 15 year old, Alyona. The girl hasn't been eating much of anything, and no meat except chicken. At dinner, I asked Alesia to tell her, in Russian, that if she didn't eat the beef stew I cooked, it would hurt my feelings and I would cry. She ate a good helping, then some strawberries, and a brownie! Sometimes a little guilt can be a GOOD thing! Acting skills don't hurt either...

Kathy left Alyona with us and did some shopping, then came back at 7 and ate with us. Her husband didn't come, but I sent some beef stew home with Kathy, for him. Alyona was welcomed by Alesia and Elena and I know she had a fun afternoon. They played games, rode bikes, and watched a movie, Fly Away Home. I had to keep reminding Elena and Alesia to translate the dialogue, for Alyona, but she seemed to enjoy it.

We've had a nice day. Alesia's mood brightened a lot, once Elena got here. I am exhausted, however. It will be busy tomorrow, too. I hope I can get some rest...

The Hysterical Miss Mom Muffett

December 21, 2006

Last night, Alesia got to see a side of me she has never seen before: Terrified and Hysterical Mom. I am not proud of that. Here's the 411:

I got home last night and it looked like rain. The forecast for the next few days is rain. Therefore, I wanted to take down this heavy, decorated garland we had across the lanai, out front. I didn't want it to get soaked with rain, since we'd like to keep it and use it the next few years.

I started to get Alesia to help me, but reconsidered. Alesia was wrapping presents - her new favorite thing to do. My brother is getting a set of grilling tools wrapped up in gold paper and an elaborate gold bow that would make Liberace scream with envy. My brother will be very uncomfortable but so be it. He will have to use his acting skills and act thrilled and happy - skills he usually uses only on dates, I bet - anyway

I go out on the lanai and get the garland down from where it has carefully been stretched between the pillars and duct taped in place. I drape it across the white wicker chairs in what I hope is sort of a casually elegant way. There's a house in our neighborhood with white wicker chairs on the porch, and each one is decorated with a big red bow and it looks very festive, very Home and Garden. Our chairs, however, look like the garland was thrown across them by an angry 3 year old. I ain't Martha Stewart.

I finish this job and start to go in the lanai doors. I look down. The light spilling through the doors illuminates a very large, multi-legged, hairy spider. I freeze, paralyzed with terror. On the other side of the glass-paned doors, Coco regards me, wagging her little tail stump, so cute and innocent. I notice the crack under the door. I notice the spider, only inches from the crack, less than a foot away from Coco. I start screaming for Alesia. She hears me, finally [she has selective hearing] and comes out the front door.

I am hoping she will have the courage I lack, the courage to stomp that hairy spider to smithereens. I move back, never taking my eyes of the beast.

Alesia: "What IS wrong, Mom?"

Me: "Look!! KILL IT!"

I am a little worried she will hesitate. Russians think it's bad luck to kill spiders.

Alesia sees the spider and walks over to it casually. She peers down. She reaches out her hand to PICK UP THE SPIDER! I scream, a high-pitched, hysterical scream, and simultaneously flee into the house through the front door. I hear Alesia laughing behind me and saying "Mom! It's a PLASTIC spider! It's leftover from Halloween!" She comes in right after me.

By this time, Granny has come out into the family room, and seen the spider dangling from Alesia's hand. She starts laughing. I cannot look at the spider. Alesia puts the fake spider on the rug, where Coco can eat it. "THROW THE EVIL THING AWAY!" I shout, still somewhat shaken.

I watch Alesia pick it up and throw it away, laughing. Mother is still chuckling, although her sympathy is with me. I throw myself on the loveseat and squeeze my eyes shut, and wish for Motrin. Coco comes over, walks casually up my chest and very carefully starts licking my face, my eyes, industriously licking the insides of my ears.

Alesia is still laughing as she goes back upstairs to wrap some more...

Weekend

Tuesday, December 19, 2006

We had a productive weekend and I feel better about our Christmas preparations. I finished wrapping things early Sunday morning before church.

Alesia had a tutoring session Saturday morning, then we went out to lunch. There is a place called Smoky Bones near Perimeter Mall, and they have delicious barbeque. We may pick some up for Christmas Eve.

We came back and while Mother napped Alesia and I saw a cute movie called The Holiday. It’s about two women, in England and America, who swap houses over Christmas, and meet new guys. It was pretty funny, and reasonably intelligent.

After church Sunday, while Mother napped, we went to Target and got Alesia a new bike. She has a 10 speed my brother got her, but she couldn’t manage it and had stopped riding. Her first bike is too small now. So Target had a good deal on a basic bike and I let her pick it out and ride it around the store. I told her it was part of her Christmas, but she’d have surprises to open up Christmas morning anyway. She was excited about the bike. We will keep the 10 speed as a “spare” so when the kids have friends over it will come in handy.

Some new friends came over Sunday night, Paul and Kathy, with their newly adopted 15 year old daughter Alyona. Cute girl, rather shy. She is having a hard time adjusting. Alesia spent some time talking to her in her room and made Alyona feel welcome. I talked to Paul and Kathy and tried to reassure them about Alyona, and offered what advice I could. I am no expert except in a “been there, done that” sense.

Lesleigh came over last night. We had a jolly time visiting with her. Mom commented Les and I act like sisters. I suppose we do, but that's nice. Les said I should write a book about raising older adopted kids! Food for thought. Might write a pamphlet, but there isn't enough for a book. My book about Alesia's first years home will provide some answers, I hope...

I had an e-mail from Olga with some more art work from Zoya, her daughter who illustrated Jack's New Family. She is an amazingly talented artist. She's got some things on exhibit at a museum in Oregon where Olga lives.

I had a great e-mail from my friend Apryl [with the Antares Foundation]. Since she was just in Petro in June, and has a son adopted from Igor's orphanage, she is a wonderful source of information. She said, for instance, the hotel only charged her $71/day and that was with breakfast and dinner included. She also said there was a discount for folks who stayed more than 10 days, and I will have to do that.

She said this about the adoption of her son:

The clothes my son wore at the orphanage--underwear, socks, and all--belonged to the orphanage. We had to provide everything for him.  It seems to be tradition at the RBS that they have a going away program for the adopted child. It was sooooo sweet! His friends gave him pictures and cards they had made...He was also given a few Russian coloring books... and a piece of embroidery work made by some of the students."

A Christmas Memory

Thursday, December 14, 2006

I am publishing a special holiday edition of the departmental newsletter, and I've asked everyone for anecdotes or little stories about memorable Christmases. I wrote up one and I thought y'all might like to see it:

I QUIT

When I was a senior in college, my father had a heart attack the day he helped me move into my apartment that fall. The next morning when Mom called to tell me he had had a heart attack I felt terribly guilty. I drove to Knoxville 5 hours without stopping once. He was alive, but his heart was badly damaged.

Dad was out of work for several months. I was very worried about being able to finish school, because he had been paying my tuition. So I quietly got a job at a fast food Taco place in the mall in Athens. My parents lived in Knoxville and didn’t know about the job. I didn’t want them to feel bad. Dad had grown up poor and worked all through college and he didn’t want me to have to work and go to school. Going to college full time and working was grueling, but I did it for a couple of months.

When December came, I told the manager I needed Christmas Eve day off so I could drive home to Knoxville. The place was closed Christmas day. I always spent Christmas with my parents and brother. The manager was a very mean man and refused to give me the day off – in fact he revised the schedule so I’d have to work until closing time on Christmas Eve.

I was very upset. I didn’t want to tell my parents. I knew after my shift I would be too exhausted to drive home and get in at 2 a.m.

The manager had already made it clear he didn’t like me – after I failed to properly memorize the menu so I could serve customers, he decided all I was fit for was dishes. He made me stand in the back and wash dishes for my entire 5.5 hours shift. He wouldn’t let me sit down or take a break. The old grease from the cooking pans would get all over me – my hair, my skin, under my nails. I would go home after work and cry, because I smelled like a big burrito. Showering and soap didn’t help. Even scrubbing myself with lemon didn’t help.

I finally told one of my friends about the manager making me work on Christmas Eve, and she advised me to just quit. "But I need the money!" I wailed. Beth just shook her head. "Your parents will be heartbroken if you don’t show up for Christmas, particularly with your Dad being in bad shape. Just quit. You can always get another job."

I had already had several jobs and I was taught you turn in 2 weeks notice and work it out before you quit, that’s just courteous. I was terrified of the manager, though. I knew he would scream at me and make me cry, which he had already done several times. So, for the first [and only] time in my life, I quit without turning in notice. I asked Beth to run by the place the day before Christmas Eve and give the manager my apron and cap. I waited anxiously in my little apartment while she was gone. When Beth came by afterwards she looked at me and laughed. "Why are you here? Why aren’t you driving to Knoxville?" she asked. "What happened?" I had to say.

Beth was a big blonde and not afraid of anyone. She also had a fearsome Michigan accent that reduced southerners to mincemeat when she chose to put steel in her voice. "Dee, I went in and handed him your apron and cap and said She’s NOT coming back. She QUITS! Have a Merry Christmas, you *&(^&*^!!"

I laughed, for the first time in weeks. I hugged Beth and thanked her. Then I got in my car and drove home.

When I saw my father’s face light up as I walked in the house, I broke down in tears and told him the story. He didn’t get mad, or lecture me. He hugged me and laughed. "It’s OK baby, we’ll get by."

I don’t remember what gifts I got that year but it was a great Christmas. My dad died in 1996. I still miss him.

Is He Cute?

Sunday, December 10, 2006

Another incredibly busy weekend has come and gone. Every Sunday night I mentally review the weekend and I am amazed we didn’t get more done. And I review all the things we didn’t have time to do.

We got the house interior decorated. We finished the Christmas trees – both of them. We have a tiny tree upstairs, the one I had at the condo. It’s a cute little tree with a patriotic theme – blue and white snowmen, red stars, white snowflakes, a red bow on top. We have three nativity scenes. We have Mother’s Santa Claus figurine collection. The stockings are hung on the mantel. We got a Christmas thang happenin’ - Yeah Baby!

Alesia is really getting into the Christmas spirit this year. She helped me decorate the tree the other night, and is intensely curious about all the boxes coming to the house for me. [I do most of my shopping online] She is also learning Christmas carols to play on the piano.

Last Thursday, Alesia came flying into Mother's room just before bedtime. Mother and I were talking. Alesia had a look of great anxiety on her face.

"Granny!! I need you to give me your list!"

Mother looked amused. "My Christmas list?"

"Yes! I need it right NOW!"

I stepped in. "Alesia, I told you I would take you shopping and we would buy Granny and Uncle Bruce something nice. Don't worry about it! Now go to bed."

Alesia wailed in anguish "I need a LIST!! I don't know what OLD PEOPLE like!"

After Mother and I finished laughing, Mother reassured Alesia she would give her a list.

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I took Alesia to see The Nativity Story today. Terrific movie – really seemed authentic. Mary seemed pretty anxious – but then, she would’ve been, being pregnant but not married, saying the baby was God’s – yikes. The audience could see her awkward social position. Good lesson to remember, the culture of the era, and why it was such a miracle. The only thing that marred it was the actress who played Mary was only 15 when the movie was made, and she seemed sort of wooden.

Alesia managed to make even a movie about the birth of Jesus comical.

When they showed the first shot of Joseph, Alesia turned to me and said “Do you think he’s cute?!” I didn’t know how to reply. A little later, they showed Herod’s son, in closeup, and Alesia scowled and said “He is NOT cute.”

At one point, there was a scene of the circumcision of John The Baptist. Alesia was afraid they were killing the baby. I found myself trying to whisper an explanation of circumcision to Alesia in the middle of the movie. Her eyes widened when she noticed the explanatory hand gestures I felt compelled to use.

“And they do that to the poor baby EVERY DAY??!!” she gasped in horror. I suppressed a laugh. “No, once they cut that little piece of skin off, it doesn’t grow back.” She still looked confused. “But WHY would they do such a thing?” she insisted. “It has to do with cleanliness, and not getting the thing infected, and God told them to do it. I’ll explain later.”

So, in the car after the movie I explained better - I think. I’m not sure I remembered all the details from bible class. I said something like “Well, God told the Jews to circumcise the male babies so they’d stay clean and everyone would know they were Jews. There was a covenant between God and the Jews. Circumcision was how the Jews were different from everyone else. I don’t know all the details. We just all do it now – even Christians – because it’s cleaner and better.”

She didn’t say anything for a minute. I could see the wheels turning. I sighed. I knew she was thinking of her brother-to-be.

I tried to put her mind at rest. “I don’t know if Matthew has been circumcised or not. Kazakhstan is a predominantly Muslim country and they don’t circumcise their babies. I’ll get Bruce to find out, and if he isn’t circumcised Bruce will tell him how to clean it carefully.”

“Is Bruce circumcised?” Alesia asked. She couldn’t quite pronounce the word, and it sounded more like “circumscribed.”

“Yes,” I answered quickly, thinking surely he is…?

It was an awkward conversation, needless to say.

Tonight after dinner I made pumpkin bread to take to work tomorrow. I asked Alesia to sift the flour for me. She did a good job. Thinking we should explain to her why flour needs to be sifted, I asked Mother to explain it to Alesia. Mother was sitting at the kitchen table.

“I’m balancing my checkbook, Dee, you explain it,” was Mother’s reply.

I swallowed hard and looked at the bowl of flour. “Well, uh, I don’t know if I could give you a really good scientific explanation for the need to sift flour. Granny knows that stuff a lot better than I do.”

Alesia said, completely without sarcasm. “You explained that baby cutting thing pretty good, Mom.”

I felt a laugh welling up in me. "Yes, but I understand circumcision a lot better than I do sifting. Isn’t that sad?!!”

I could hear Mother laughing.

Trees and Bing

Thursday, December 7, 2006

To my great relief, we got the Christmas tree 90% decorated last night. Mother had gotten Horace to put it in the living room last Friday but we simply didn’t have time to decorate it until last night. It really bugged me, seeing the naked tree in the living room. With Alesia’s help, we got it fluffed out  and decorated in about an hour and a half. There are still a few things to add, but the biggest part of the job is over. Alesia is good help, even though I had to explain to her our own quirky family rules about decorating. I got a kick out of explaining to her about the garland made of silvery links formed from tin foil – which is lovely and sentimental, because I made it when I was about 12. Amazing what a large box of foil potato wrap can become! There are also ornaments which are nearly 50 years old, that Mom and Dad got when they first married.

Some of the ornaments have great sentimental value but due to age or infirmities they look a bit peculiar. Alesia got the giggles when we put an angel with no legs next to an ancient elf without a nose or arms. We decided the top of the tree would be for ornaments with Limb Differences. We drew the line at the nutcracker soldier who had lost the top of his head. Too gory.

I had another musically uncomfortable few minutes last night when we were decorating. Alesia decided to do “Name That Tune” again. She started humming, stopped and looked at me and said “Mom! Guess what I’m humming!” – and proceeded to hum something completely unrecognizable. I listened carefully to the bizarre, off-key notes, and wracked my brain, but nothing came to me. The rythym didn’t help – it sounded like calypso music. Finally she stopped, exasperated, and said “It’s Away In A Manger!” I swallowed hard and I started singing the actual melody to it, hoping she would hear the difference. Alesia just rolled her eyes and shook her head. I want her to enjoy music and singing but she cannot comprehend how wrong she sings everything. I try to be very patient because I know it’s the Auditory Processing Disorder. It’s frustrating, though.

After dinner, we watched the movie White Christmas, a family favorite. Alesia made several funny remarks during the movie. When it first started she looked carefully at Bing Crosby and Danny Kaye and asked me “Which one do you think is cuter?” A few minutes later she pointed to Bing Crosby and said “He has eyes like a girl!” At the very beginning of the film is a war scene and Danny Kaye gets a bad cut on his arm and it’s bleeding. Alesia looked at it with wide eyes and turned to me very seriously and said: “Look! Don’t they have tampons?!” Now, I must explain why she said that. We showed her an e-mail recently about soldiers in Iraq who used tampons in a new way. One of the guys, a medic, had gotten a care package meant for a female soldier, and laughingly stuck the tampons in his pocket. When he was seriously wounded, with a deep wound, and the medic couldn’t get the bleeding staunched, he unwrapped a tampon and stuck it in the wound – and it saved the guy’s life. Now all the soldiers in the unit carry tampons. I remember my brother telling me once he had told his men in an emergency to use sanitary napkins on a wound. We had seen that done in an old movie when we were kids.

A few minutes after the war scene Alesia turned to me and said “Did they not have tampons or pads back then?! What did everyone do?!” I didn’t want to attempt to explain the history of feminine hygiene products so I just said “I’ll tell you later.” Now that I think about it, that’s something Granny will have to explain, since she actually lived during WWII and I wasn’t even a twinkle.

Alesia’s about to learn American history, finally – and not the Hollywood versions, either. I felt like the tutors were wasting her time with the History and Geography sections of the curriculum, so I told them to stop with that. I felt rather guilty about it, because I love History and I think all kids should have a basic grasp of it, and of Geography. However, they were doing more Social Studies type things – studying African countries, or Antartica, for example. Alesia doesn’t know American history yet – she studied it a bit last year, but didn’t really comprehend it. So I told the tutors to stop with that and concentrate on English and Math, and some science. It finally occurred to me last night to check and see what the upcoming 5^th grade curriculum has in it. It’s about American history. Yay! I already ordered some American History books for Alesia but now we can just use them as supplements. I told Gabriela to give Alesia one hour of History a day. They started the 5^th grade curriculum today, and we’re waiting for the 6^th grade math CD-ROM to arrive.

Alesia finally finished up 4^th grade in all subjects but math – Alesia’s getting ready to start 6^th grade math now. It took almost 6 months to get through the 4^th grade, which has alarmed me. Bronwyn said that Alesia’s comprehension skills are so much better now, though, since Lindamood-Bell.  She thinks they can zip through the 5^th grade curriculum in just a couple of months. I’m hoping that by the time I am home with my son in March and April that she will be up to 6^th grade, and 7^th grade math of course. I am going to let the tutors off and just do the tutoring myself then, for $$ reasons. I pray the condo will be sold by then so I won’t have that expense, too.

The main things I need to concentrate on after the 6^th grade are her English and Math for 7^th and 8^th grade. If she can get through those before high school I will feel so relieved. I’d like her to do Science, too, if there’s time. She likes Science. It would be a great career move for her if she could be a nurse, for example. We’ve talked about it. She is very caring, and is fascinated by the human body. I am trying not to push her anywhere though – I want to give her all the information possible but then let her decide for herself.

I don’t remember learning anything much about World History or geography until college, so I am not pushing that right now. She has a wonderful world map, and the other day I bought a nice globe. She already has materials to help with more broad information.

Tonight, we will work on the general indoor house decorations. There are dozens of angels and santas to strategically place, and a garland for the stair rail. I can’t wait to hear what remarks Alesia will come up with.

Gearing up for Christmas

December 5, 2006 [sorry about the spacing here; can't seem to fix this]

Well, I thought adopting an older child meant not having to clean up poop and pee, or vomit. This morning, I walked into the family room dodging a minefield of poops, cleaned them up, then picked up Coco and she vomited on me. So with Coco, I get almost the full baby experience. We haven’t been successful at getting her to talk yet, though, and it’s hard to find cute little outfits for her. Then again, there will be no college expenses.

Coco gets sick on a regular basis, no matter how carefully we feed her. She is either munching on bugs or dust covered Milk Bones that she hides under the furniture, or it’s her medical condition. We don’t know. We just know we love her and she’s our “baby.” Alesia and I pray for her when she isn’t feeling well.

We had a busy but largely uneventful weekend. Alesia started her period, so the PMS is gone, thankfully. She didn’t feel good and was still a bit grumpy all weekend, however.

I went to my cousin Tim’s annual Christmas party on Saturday. His wife Maxi makes beautiful, unusual jewelry. I found some earrings for Alesia.

We tried another new church on Sunday. We want to go somewhere closer to home than All Saints. This time it was the Embry Hills United Methodist Church, which is on Henderson Mill Road, 2 minutes from the house. Everyone was very friendly when we went in. The pastor gave a good sermon – it made sense, and I didn’t disagree with anything he said. He talked about celebrating Jesus in our lives every day, not just on holidays. They have an active seniors group that has a luncheon once a month, and Mother has been to that and had a good time. It looks like they have a good youth group, too. I might even be able to find a Sunday School class where I can stay awake. We shall see. We will visit some more before we commit to anything, but it’s promising so far.

I haven’t seen it yet, but the little local magazine in Tucker has an article in it written by my publisher, and Lesleigh sent me an e-mail saying it mentioned me and my children’s book. There is a little reception for the United Writer’s Press authors next week, and that should be an interesting experience. The article got some facts wrong – for instance, I have not lived in Tucker my whole life – but oh well.

Alesia has given me her Christmas list and it was very reasonable – two CD’s, gel pens, a handheld Sudoku game. I ordered everything from Amazon. I also ordered Mom and Bruce’s gifts. I will avoid the mall at all costs. I am only giving gifts to immediate family this year. See below – I sent this out to friends I normally buy gifts for.

Hi y’all –

As you know, this year has been a tough one for me financially. Alesia’s schooling and testing expenses have been high and I am trying to save money for my adoption. I am not complaining; I know the Lord will provide what I need. I find the older I get, the less materialistic I am, anyway. It’s more important for my kids to have things than for me.

I hate that my boy is not home for Christmas yet. I hate that I can’t send him a gift. However, even though he doesn’t know he will be adopted, I have found a way [anonymously] to make his Christmas brighter. [BTW, Russian Christmas is on January 6^th.]

This year, I plan to forego giving any gifts to anyone except close family members. Instead, I am going to take the money I would normally spend on that, and make a donation to my son’s orphanage, through the Antares Foundation. They do wonderful work with the orphanages in Petropavlovsk. His group, Family Group #9, has about 10 kids in it. Only a few are actually free to be adopted, unfortunately.

Please do not give or send me a gift. If you are so inclined, please consider instead sending a donation to Antares Foundation. It is tax deductible. If your budget won’t allow a donation, I totally understand. Just say a prayer for the children, then, OK?

Click on:

http://www.antares-orphans.org/

Then, click on How You Can Help, and scroll down to the bottom. Please put on your check: for Family Group #9 in the Regional Orphanage.

There are also photos of his group in the Activities section.

I understand my dossier is in the Washington consulate for Kazakhstan. The agency says I will get to travel in 2-3 months. Yay!

I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas and are able to be with family and loved ones!!

Dee