We went to Sunday school
and church today, and the lesson was basically about introspection. Lent is a
time to look inside yourself and be contemplative, take a moral inventory. It’s
also a time of taking action, of “opening the fridge and confronting the
“science projects” as the pastor said, the “fridge” in the analogy being our
souls. I had to explain that to Alesia in the car going home. We need to work
on her understanding of the word “metaphor.” It was a good lesson.
During the sermon I
pondered all my many shortcomings, including the unconscious desire to take over
and run the Sunday School class this morning. I don’t know what got into
me. [Probably the spirit of my father,
who tried to take over and run the class in first grade, a famous family
story.] I didn’t know that I had that desire, until I found myself jumping into
the verbal fray, so to speak, way too often. I can only excuse it by saying
that despite my outer cool, there is some degree of anxiety over the upcoming
trip.
Anxiety is a weird animal,
for me. You can look at me and tell how anxious I am. If I’m in a “fat cycle”
which I’ve been in for several years - well obviously I’m not handling it too
well. If I’m eating reasonably and exercising, I’m OK. I hope to get back to
that state soon. It’s not really the trip itself, or the expense, or even worrying
over things at home. No, my chief worry is whether this child will like me.
He’s 10 years old. What will he think of this short, fat American woman with weird hair, who burps a lot and speaks very poor Russian with a great accent? He may want no part of coming to America or being adopted. As an older child, he will have to go to court, and if he doesn’t want to be adopted, I can’t force him – nor would I want to, of course.
His experience with “mama”
– his birth mother – was a woman who neglected him and abandoned him, to the
point he got frostbite and lost his hand. How do I contend with that? The only
strategies I’ve come up with are these, and they aren’t great:
1. Smile a lot [this could backfire – grownup Russians
think smiling people are crazy];
2. Tell him he can call me “Dee”;
3. Use as much of my Russian as possible;
4. Be his friend and don’t come on too strong;
5. Bring gifts.
If all these fail, I will
try to choose another child. I am not legally committed to Igor, even though he
is my son already, in my heart. International adoption always has the potential
for heartbreak.
My other way of dealing with anxiety – besides trying to run everything – is to just cry. I cry a lot. I try not to cry in front of others, but lord I’ve shed more tears in the last few weeks than in the two years before that. It’s like being pregnant, I think.
The Antares Foundation website has a cute photo of my boy - click on this link and look at the top middle photo, and he's the little guy all in orange with 2007 across his chest:
http://www.antares-orphans.org/a_rbs638.asp
After church we came home
and ate a sandwich, and then Alesia and I spent all afternoon on outdoor
projects. It was in the 50’s and windy, so we were not lethargic. The sun was
shining, and sometimes I really need to feel the sun on my face. First, we hung
up the two brightly painted birdhouses we did last fall. We had nothing very
sturdy to hang them with so we used double cords of dental floss. Let’s hope no
fat birds move in.
Secondly, I finally had a
chance to get out the leaf blower my brother gave us for Christmas, and start
blowing the pine straw off the front yard and the lanai. Since we let the lawn
service go, it had piled up. Of course, the first time I fired up the thing I
blew all the straw and dirt right into my own face. Brilliant move. Alesia and I took turns with the blower. The
front yard looks much better. We also picked up some of the heavier pinecones
and sticks and bagged them. I can feel that in my back. I feel great empathy
for my farmer forebears.
Finally we put our
flower-growing project in motion. Last week we bought 3 half-barrels from
Kroger. They are used whiskey barrels form the Jack Daniels distillery in
Tennessee. I once toured that place with my youth group when I was in High
School – we weren’t called “whiskey-palians” for nothing. The other day after a
heavy rain we noticed they had become rain barrels. So Alesia and I went to
Home Depot and bought bricks. We set them on the bricks, so they aren’t fluch
on the pavement of the back patio. We also drilled holes in the bottom, so they
could drain the water. Then again, we don’t want all the soil to drain out.
Phase 3 of the project is buying dirt to fill the barrels. Phase 4 is actually
planting the flowers. Mother will supervise that.
While Alesia was at youth
group tonight, I got a couple of travel prep things done. I called my friend
Paul Ismail, who is loaning me a laptop to take to Kaz. He and his wife Kathy
are new friends. We share a unique bond, with my friend Liza – we all have
adopted Russian teenaged girls. Alesia was the youngest adoptee. Liza’s
daughter Luda is the oldest, at 16. It’s quite a challenge. We are all there
for each other – few people are willing to adopt teenagers, particularly
inexperienced parents like us. Alesia was 13 when I adopted her.
I got 10 little notes
written for Alesia. Mother can pull them out and give them to her when I’m
gone, if she’s missing me, or just stressed out. They are sort of generic, but
they are loving and reassuring. Took longer to write them than I had thought. I
included an inspirational quote in each note – we love quotes. Here’s an
example:
Snowflakes are one of nature's most fragile things, but
just look what they can do when they stick together.
— Vesta M. Kelly
Finally, I have to report
with some pride that I made one of Paula Deen’s recipes for dinner tonight.
Mother and Alesia and I all love Paula Deen. We watch her shows, we buy her
books. She reminds me of relatives of mine – she talks like a lot of my
relatives, in fact. Here is a link to the delicious Squash and Zucchini Cakes: http://www.foodnetwork.com/food/recipes/recipe/0,1977,FOOD_9936_36087,00.html
I didn’t serve them with
marinara sauce. They reminded me of crab cakes [a favorite dish of mine].
Alesia happily ate them – hallelujah – so they will be cooked again soon.
A friend of mine sent me
this and I had to pass it along –
Bathtub Test
It
doesn't hurt to take a hard look at yourself from time to time, and this should
help get you started. During a visit to the mental asylum, a visitor asked the
Director what the criterion was which defined whether or not a patient should be
institutionalized.
"Well,"
said the Director, "we fill up a bath tub, then we offer a teaspoon, a teacup
and a bucket to the patient and ask him or her to empty the bathtub."
"Oh,
I understand," said the visitor.. "A normal person would use the
bucket because it's bigger than the spoon or the teacup.?
"No." said
the Director, "A normal person would pull the plug. Do you want a bed near
the window?"
DID YOU PASS, OR DO YOU WANT THE BED NEXT
TO MINE?
