A Number of Things

The Woosha

2012-02-15T11:13:00.001-08:00

While we were in the guesthouse in Ethiopia, I asked the cook to translate for me. "Drink your water," was what I asked her to tell Abi. She poured forth in a stream of Amharic, upon which Abi quickly drank her entire cup of water. I remember feeling satisfaction that the cook had produced such good results, and I asked what she had said.

She turned to me very cheerfully and reported, "I told her if she doesn't drink her water, the dog will bite her!"

Uh oh.

Fast forward to coming home.

Our family includes a very sweet, very nice, and very exuberant 80 pound black Labrador. He loves the kids, and LOVES to give them wet, sloppy kisses, no matter how much I try to break him of the habit.

Can you see the drama poised to happen?

Okay.

The other day, I let Shadow in for a little bit when Abi was up, but mostly I have been having Hubby walk him (Hubby hates dogs), and playing with him in the evenings when the kids are in bed, and feeling really guilty that he is outside alone all day instead of with us, his pack.

Really guilty.

And I miss him.

Today I decided to bite the bullet. If Shadow is to be a part of this family, Abi is going to have to face her fear of him and learn that he will not in fact eat her.

Sigh.

With a sincere prayer for strength and patience, I put Abi on the couch, warned the kids that the "Woosha" (dog) was coming "wust" (inside), and opened the back door. Like a joyful, 80 pound tornado, Shadow burst into the house and headed straight to the table to look for bites under it. Abi began to whimper. Like before, I held her and introduced her to the dog with lots of petting and reassuring words.

When I went into the kitchen, the storm broke. She climbed off the couch to follow me into the kitchen. The dog curiously investigated this new human that smelled deliciously of coconut oil, and gave her a big, sloppy kiss.

I didn't think Abi could scream louder than the Bean, but I was wrong.

She absolutely flipped out. Poor kid, she was shaking and screaming. She oozed terror from every pore.

Hmm, this wasn't going well.

At first, I tried comforting her, but I knew she couldn't hide from the dog; she needed to interact with him. She needed to "see" him and discover that he wasn't going to eat her. It would take time.

It did. For almost an hour she screamed at the absolute top of her lungs. It sounded like someone was murdering her slowly using every torture method known to human history, and pouring lemon juice in the wounds at the same time.

The poor, sweet dog cowered, wondering what he could possibly have done wrong.

I continued to force her to pet him and touch him, feeling like the most cruel despot to ever force another human being to face her fears. I wondered if I was doing this right.

I told her in as many words as I could that the dog would NOT eat her. He was a nice dog, a kind dog and he would not hurt her. I told her she was okay.

We tried getting some doggy treats to show her what he DID eat (as opposed to little Ethiopian girls).

I tried to tell her that we did not bring her all the way from Ethiopia just to feed her to the dog. She shrieked.

I expected a knock on the door any time with a curious neighbor wondering who was being racked.

At last, AT LAST, she calmed down.

At last, she touched him.

Then, OH LORD ALMIGHTY, her inner drama queen kicked in. She began following the dog around holding her hand out, enticing him to lick her. When he did, she screamed and kicked him.

Well, that had to stop.

I scolded her and told her to be nice to the dog.

She pouted.

Sigh.

Then she tried grabbing my pants and hiding behind me. That had to stop too.

I went and hid in the bathroom.

I prayed.

Finally, the "Woosha" and the "Set Lidge" (little girl) called a truce and decided to coexist in the same room. She still whines if he gets too close.

Tomorrow, I have no doubt, will be a repeat of the whole dramatic scene.

Woosha, the Sequel.

Sigh.

My prediction: By the time we get to Woosha, part XII, she and Shadow will be best buds.

I hope.

Affection and YouTube Videos

2012-02-13T20:35:00.000-08:00

She was singing along with a familiar children's song that we found on YouTube. In the middle, she kissed my hand and said "Ewedeshalehu" which means "I love you." So sweet. :)

First Ice Cream

2012-02-12T18:38:00.001-08:00

As far as I know, Abi has never tasted ice cream before in her life. Her reaction made it obvious that it's not a staple of orphanage cuisine. ;)

Duplicates

2012-02-12T16:28:00.001-08:00

As I posted here, I have been trying to find a way to let Abi enjoy shows with us, but not block the screen for everyone else. Today, I tried logging in to two different Netflix accounts, so they would play the same show simultaneously. I set up one show on the iPod Touch, and the other on the laptop. I synced them as closely as I could, and then muted the iPod. Abi was thrilled with the small screen that she could hold closely and see. I put it into a plastic sleeve (originally a package to hold paper clips) so she could not accidentally touch the screen and change the settings.

So far, it has worked well until one device stops playback unexpectedly, and we lose the sync. Hopefully, that won't be a continual problem, and we can at least all enjoy Netflix shows. We may be able to do something similar with DVDs if we do a little planning and rip them onto the iPod beforehand.

Today...

2012-02-11T21:09:00.001-08:00

...Hubby worked a full 8 hours to try to make up for all of the appointments we've had this week.

...by the time Abi finally went to sleep for her nap, Bean was up again.

...I swept up a broken plate when Mister helped empty the dishwasher.

...Hubby collected the third and final poop sample for the lab.

...Abi understood me when I told her in English that her dolly was on the floor by her feet.

...fifty people in line for the movie theater at the mall watched my children in the play place scream and yell and fight and demand that i help them climb on the bear, or jump off the boat, while I sat and sipped coffee and looked at them.

...I ate two leftover chicken nuggets for lunch and forgot to have anything else.

...my hair dryer caught fire, causing the house to smell like burned electrical parts.

...I was informed 934 times by the Singing Elmo doll that a circle has no corners.

...Curly put the laundry away without complaining.

...I had another nightmare, this time that the TSA put me on a plane to Boston and threw away my luggage.

...I was surprised that my favorite green shirt was on top of the dryer, as it had been in the luggage that the TSA threw away in my dream.

...I received a letter in the mail that the judge approved Abi's adoption petition and that her name has been changed.

...the Tooth Fairy stopped by with a golden dollar for Curly, who rolled her eyes and informed me that she knew who the Tooth Fairy was and why did we have to use the dumb cup of water on the windowsill.

...I remember the password to Little Mister's computer reading program on the first try.

...I lost count of the times I had to scold Bean or put him in time-out or other discipline for hitting Abi or kicking Abi or taking Abi's toy or fighting with Abi or screaming about Abi's existence.

...I drank at least five cups of coffee.

...I successfully warded off a migraine headache that had threatened my well-being and happiness with my Jedi mind powers (and well-timed Excedrine).

...we had take-out for dinner.

Getting Close Enough

2012-02-11T10:04:00.001-08:00

We have a problem that needs solving here. In order to get close enough to the screen to see it and enjoy it, Abi's head is blocking the picture for everyone else. Sometimes we banish Abi to the couch, which means she is reduced to only listening to the soundtrack; sometimes everyone crowds around the screen, which results in frustration and pushing one another out of the way.

Because her field of vision is so small, the kind of screen Abi can see best is an iPhone-sized screen held inches from her face. I can play Netflix movies on that device for her, but not the same movie as the other kids are watching as it won't let me play the same show on two devices.

The best solution I can think of is setting up a dual-screen monitor with a small screen that she can hold, and a long enough cable that she can sit on the couch with us. If we can somehow manage to get her own tiny, duplicate screen, we could all enjoy a show together. We're still brainstorming how to make it work.

Glad To See Her

2012-02-07T14:09:00.000-08:00

For the past year, Miss A has been living in Tennessee, so we have not seen her. We've kept in touch by email, and she reads my blog, but she has been really missing Bean. Last week, she and her fiancee drove all the way across the country back to Idaho, and one of the first things she did was to call us and arrange a lunch date.

She kept exclaiming how big he was, and how handsome. We tried to get him to pose for pictures, but his mind was on the playland, and he didn't really want to give a smile for the camera. Whenever I see pics of them together, I marvel at how much alike they look. Darling. :)

Finally, we released all the kids to go play on the playland, and we sat around chatting and watching them. Miss A and Mr. M took tons of pictures, and told us about their job plans. We also found out a few medical details about Bean that we hadn't known before.

I'm so proud of Miss A. She is so strong, and has made some really tough choices to make her life better. She got dealt a rougher hand than most people will ever have to deal with, but she is making good decisions and thinking about her future. I am so glad to get to connect with her again, and I know she's glad to see Bean, although the goodbyes are always bittersweet.

English, Please!

2012-02-07T09:17:00.001-08:00

I wasn't going to give her more Cheerios this morning, but... she asked in English for the first time. Well, more Bean-ese, but still. And she was awfully cute about it. :)

Facebook Journal

2012-02-06T13:23:00.000-08:00

For those of you not on my Facebook feed, I have been posting updates and anecdotes daily about our journey home and bringing Abi into our family. I decided to copy and paste them into a post here, in case Facebook doesn't save them. I'd like to remember this time, both the good and the bad, and our experience may help others who are also adopting internationally. I know I have been tremendously encouraged by reading the blogs of other moms who have gone before me.

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January 22

Good morning snowy Idaho! It's SO nice to be home. :)

I slept ten hours, and Abi is still sleeping. She fell asleep in the car on the way home from Lewiston. She seems to be doing really well, though. She doesn't act timid or overwhelmed and absolutely loves people. She is also quite healthy, apart from a slight runny nose and a skin thing on her scalp that the doctor says is not contagious (phone conversation), so it looks like we won't need to have a quarantine period after all! God is good. :)

January 22

We tried church this morning. Sunday School was fine, since the orphanage uses similar activities and routines. The fellowship afterward was a bust, though, since the noise and hot room completely overwhelmed her. I'm a little bummed that her sparkly personality and lovely confidence did not appear, but we have plenty of time. :)

The language barrier seems to be a huge deterrent to her, as she loved to talk to people in Ethiopia, whether she knew them or not. I am sure she will be that way here once she understands what people are saying to her.

At this point, she speaks about 5 words of English, and can count to ten. Matt and I speak about 400 words of Amharic, which is enough for the basics and a little fun stuff, but not enough to translate conversations. I am sure she'll pick up English really fast, though.

January 22

So far, the jet lag has not been such a killer this time around. When we came back in October, I was down for two weeks, but apparently it was more the cold and the migraine that did me in last time. Without those, I feel pretty good. :)

January 22

FAQ, so hopefully I won't have to answer the same questions quite as many times!

1. Age: Abi will be 4 in March.

2. She is almost totally blind. She can see a small patch up close off the left side. I think she can see colors and faces if they are close. She is quite functional, though, if she is comfortable in a place and can walk around really well. Also, we understand if you have never met or interacted with a blind person before, so feel free to ask questions. :)

3. The adoption is final, but we need to do a little more legal stuff and change her name. Her American name will be Elizabeth Joy, but we'll still call her Abi (Ah-bee) for short.

4. She is already bonding to us and knows we are her family. I'm impressed how much she knows in such a short time.

5. The trip and flights went well, for the most part. When I get time, I'll blog about them.

6. Yes, we're planning a welcome-home-party/baby-shower but I don't know when it will be. Local friends who are interested, I will post something when I decide when/what I want to do. I also want to have a cultural show-and-tell party, and I don't know if that will be the same or separate, so stay tuned.

‎7. At this point, she speaks about 5 words of English, and can count to ten. Matt and I speak about 400 words of Amharic, which is enough for the basics and a little fun stuff, but not enough to translate conversations. I am sure she'll pick up English really fast, though.

‎8. At this point, we probably will not maintain contact with her birth family. It's possible we'll resume contact in the future sometime, and she is welcome to do so when she is old enough to want to.

‎9. Abi has never seen snow before. So far, she hates it, and hates walking on ice. Go figure. :)

January 22

We finally just figured out that when Abi repeats "tataba" at dinnertime, she wants to wash her hands before she eats, which is super important in Ethiopia. Oops. Thought it was a food. Thank goodness for curiosity and a good dictionary.

January 23

Abi asked to go "shinta-bayt" (toilet) so Cody had to be at least as cool as her. He sat on the potty too, and we had success for the first time! Peer pressure works wonders!

January 23

Roller coaster day. Up at 4:30 with a screaming child. But then watched her eat three scrambled eggs and some calcium-fortified OJ and rejoiced that she is getting nutritious food at last. We are SO blessed in this country. All morning Taz-Boy alternated between playing with Abi and tearing the house apart in an effort to keep the family's attention away from her and on himself. And my heart melted when she threw her little arms around me and said "Mommy, ewedeshalehu" (I love you). Soon after, my heart broke when she asked for "tata" and we had no idea what it was, so she burst into tears, and so did I. She pathetically begged us for it and we were so clueless. But all was well again when we finally scoured the dictionary and determined that she wanted a bottle of warm milk like Cody gets before bed. We gave her some, and she snuggled down into her bed, so safe and happy and warm. I really need a long nap.

January 24

This conversation happened last night.

Setting: Daddy puts his shoes on to take the garbage out. Time: midnight.

Abi: "somethingsomethingsomethingsomethingshoessomethingsomethingcarsomethingsomething"

Me (attempting to translate) She wants to put on her shoes and go for a ride in the car?

Matt: uh... No.

Abi: repeat request 467 times.

Me (frantically flipping through the dictionary, and in stumbling Amharic) "Tomorrow... Car... You go."

Abi: "Ok!" (happily resumes playing)

Me: "Whew, that was a lot of work!"

Very representative of how most of our interactions go. She is learning English words rapidly, though, so hopefully we meet in the middle pretty soon.

January 24

First Ped visit this afternoon. Dr. Mike was quite impressed with Abi's health and development. She is such a charmer; he and the nurses were enchanted with her. :)

January 25

Oh my gosh, my brain feels like it is going to fall out. I keep thinking the jet lag is going to get better but I am still going to bed at 1am and waking up about 4:30 am. Oi!

January 26

Jedi-Mommy has once again restored order to the galaxy.

January 26

I love doing laundry, because I am so grateful to have the people in my life that wear each of these clothes. :)

January 26

Just overheard (in Amharic): "I love you Daddy, for giving me water. Yum, yum, yum." Then she sang a little song she made up about how Daddy gives her Cheerios and bananas (Biscuti inna mooz, Daaaaaddy...) Then, "More water, Daddy?"

His reply (in English): "Okay, here's your water, Princess Nut-job."

January 27

At Homeschool Co-op. Abi's doing fantastic! ♥

January 29

Since day 1, these two always hold hands in the car. Is that cute or what?

January 29

Whoa, this was really, really good. Written by an adoptive mom to friends and family who want to be a support, but are not always sure what to say or how to help. I just have to add that all of you have been a tremendous support and encouragement to us, and we are grateful for every single one of you!

Thanks Michelle for the link. :)

http://jenhatmaker.com/blog/2011/11/02/how-to-be-the-village

January 29

I'm so tired I can't even nap. :( Having a really rough day today. Abi is clingy, Cody is crazy, and we all got just a few hours of sleep last night. Right now the little folks are napping, so I should be able to rest, but I am too wound up. Prayers appreciated.

January 29

Receiving the blessing of friends. Holly Mathews and Lori Jewett, thank you! Cleaning and blessing my kids may seem small to you, but they are making me feel not so alone and I really needed that today. :)

January 30

Oi, Cody is awake! Good thing I love that kid so much, because his reaction to a new sibling is to be over-the-top naughty/annoying. #sigh

January 30

Just introduced Abi to the dimet (cat). She was afraid of his quiet, slinky self until we touched him and talked about his sleepy purr and discovered that he stays on his comfy chair and won't chase her... Well, she is much less frightened of him now. :)

January 31

Using "tools" to "fix" the toy baskets.

January 31

Really struggling emotionally today. It's a normal part of this process, but knowing that doesn't make any easier. Glad that Abi is adjusting better than I am...

January 31

Thanks for all the sweet words of encouragement earlier. Feeling a bit better tonight, thanks to the support of friends and especially Matt. He's the best and I don't know what I'd ever do without him!

January 31

At the Ped this afternoon, Abi had to get blood drawn (not a finger stick; I'm talking about the full needle in the arm) and she totally flipped out. Shrieking and almost vomiting, she was so upset. We were so miserable trying to comfort her. But afterwards, she got a cookie at Bucer's, which cheered her right back up, and she has had a great time showing everyone her WOUND (with Band-Aid) so it's almost worth the pain, I think. ;)

Februrary 2

Going to try walking downtown with all four... first time. Wish me luck...I have no idea how this is going to go. #fingerscrossed

Februrary 2

Took the kids downtown with the big, blue stroller (about 7 blocks).

Went to Bucer's and got a coffee for me and a cookie for them, then to Hodgins "mecha wecha bayt" (toy store). As soon as we got there, Abi had to go "Shintabayt" (toilet) but they don't have one. So we loaded everyone back up and went down the street to Wells Fargo. Then back to Hodgins, where we ran into Natalie Rose and Raven. The Goombas each bought a little toy, then Natta and Seth wanted to ride the escalators at the bank next door. I agreed but should not have, because Natta pushed Cody onto the escalator while I was helping Abi, and the poor little guy was terrified. :(

Then my second piece of insanity: we went out for pizza. At the Pie Hole. Cody spilled water everywhere three times and Natta forgot her toy when we left. Some college age girls apparently were raised in a barn because they stared at us the entire time we were eating. Well, I guess we are pretty cute. :)

Then home again and Mommy needs a nap more than the littles! But overall, I had a lot of fun, and it was so nice to get out of the house.

Added: Discovered that we attract a LOT of attention. Wonder if it's FOUR small children, or the different skin colors, or the Amharic being sung REALLY LOUDLY or the white cane? Maybe is just the abundance of cuteness. ;)

I feel like we might as well bring along a brass band, an elephant and some balloons. Maybe a fire engine.

February 2

Listening to WOW Worship: Yellow disc. Hello 90's worship music! You are wonderful! :)

February 2

Reading "Maximum Ride" Book 3. Hooray for YA fiction brain candy!

February 3

This kid amazes me. She has learned how to do the entire bathroom routine herself: step stool, kid seat, pants, wipe, flush, put everything away, and wash her hands. She only needs me to turn the faucet on, partly because she can't reach, and partly because I decided the wise move was not to teach her how to turn the water on. Anyway, I'm tres impressed... Better than I could do if I was only three, in a foreign country, and couldn't see what I was doing. She is sure a smart lil cookie. :)

Februrary 4

We have entered the needy/demanding phase. Approximately every 30 seconds, she asks for something. Juice. Snacks. Potty. Take the lid off my toy. Kiss. iPod. Shoes on. Shoes off. Color a picture. Rescue me from Cody. Hug. Movie. Potty. Juice. Snacks...

According to our training, I'm supposed to say yes as often as possible, which I would anyway. The times when I say no have no effect and she just continues to ask like a broken record.

Add into the mix that the rest of the family cannot even talk to each other over the Abi-requests, and that Cody is equally needy all the time.

Does anyone know where I can purchase some Sanity-In-A-Bottle??

February 4

We had a wonderful evening as a family. Matt, Natta, Seth and I put together a puzzle that Seth picked out this afternoon. (Note: a 500 piece puzzle is NOT a kid puzzle, it's an adult puzzle, according to Seth, so he felt so tickled to be working on one that big.) Abi sat nearby, popping bubble wrap and singing along with the UI Jazz Choir CD. Cody was trapped in his booster chair with some blocks that he mostly threw on the floor. But the best part was that we were all together. ♥

Februrary 5

It happened again: the overwhelmingly loud noise of everyone talking after church in that echoing room sends Abi into meltdown mode instantly. We know it's not the people as she loves talking to people. We are pretty sure it's the acoustic of the room, which to a blind person probably sounds like surf.

We're brainstorming solutions: noise-blocking earmuffs, which may not work as they would function like a blindfold to her. Maybe just go right outside to play and avoid the problem.

February 5

Happy little girl this morning. She's putting her babies to bed and shouting "heed tenya" (go to sleep) at them at the top of her voice. #effectiveparentingtechniques

Februrary 6

One of Abi's first sentences in English: "Stop it, Cody!" Linguistic necesseties.

February 6

I have this cold now too. Kids are whining and fighting. Abi is demanding juice and band-aids and injera and toys and... Dear Lord God, grant me strength beyond my own strength.

These are the days that make every other day look good.

Still, progress is being made. Abi ate some American food with only 42 complaints, she played a little game with Cody that involved falling off the couch, and she is healthy, adorable, and she slept until 7:15 this morning. :)

Injera and Shirro Wat

2012-02-03T18:19:00.001-08:00

Woo hoo! Mommy's injera and shirro wat meet with Abi's approval. I'm pretty sure she enjoyed having some comfort food that tastes like home.

Snapshot: Ship

2012-02-02T22:03:00.000-08:00

Curly made a ship today. She chose the project, and a friend of mine who has a daughter about the same age helped us by purchasing the little craft kits and bringing them over one day. Curly painted every piece herself, and with a little help from me, glued the whole thing together, following the instructions.

I thought it turned out really cool, although it might help to take a stitch around the booms to hold the sails in place as the glue doesn't quite hold them. Still, for a seven-year-old, I'm pretty impressed. :)

Aeroplan, aeroplan, aeroplan

2012-02-01T14:59:00.000-08:00

I don't have a lot to write about the plane rides. I'd been dreading them for months, but as expected, we survived. Waiting in line for numerous security checks and customs wasn't much fun, but our agency had done their work thoroughly, and we had no holdups at all. Mostly it was just long (34 hours from door to door). Abi slept and played with little toys and chattered to nearby passengers, who all thought she was adorable. She sang little Amharic songs at the top of her lungs, and when the plane had a TV screen that was close enough for her to see, she played with that. By the last flight, she was beginning to shut down for pure fatigue and feeling overwhelmed. To be honest, so was I, and I cried when I saw my family waving to us from the window of the Lewiston airport.

This is the last post about our trip. From here on out, we move forward into our new life, with more homeschooling, more offspring cuteness, more on adapting to blindness, more recipes and just more living each day and embracing whatever comes. As Robert Capon says so eloquently about parenting:

"I find that my fine generalities have dashed themselves to pieces against the six very concrete children that I have. I live surrounded by a mixture of violence and loveliness, of music and insensitivity. I take my meals with clods and poets, but I am seldom certain which is which. Nowhere is my life less reducible to logic than in my children; nowhere are my elegant attempts at system ground more violently to powder than under the stumbling stone of the next generation. Far from having advice to give you, I am dumbfounded by them and admit it. And yet I rejoice too, for nowhere is there so much to keep me sane. I apologize in advance but I know only one word to describe it: It is absurd.

- Robert Capon, Bed and Board

Have a wonderful day, and thanks again for all of the prayers, comments, encouragement, and kind words you have given us through this amazing journey. :)

Coffee Ceremonies

2012-02-01T14:52:00.001-08:00

In Ethiopia, a coffee ceremony is used to say farewell, to celebrate something, or just to enjoy one another's company. The day before we left Addis, Abi had two coffee ceremonies so she could say good bye to her home, her country, and the people who loved her.

The first was at the KVI orphanage. This is her biological father and his mother, who had cared for Abi as an infant. She was overwhelmed with joy that Abi had not starved to death, like she had thought, and that she was going to get to go to America and get a family, good food and an education. She wept and said that God has a plan for this child's life (I agree!).

Abi (in purple) surrounded by her friends and roommates. These kids become like siblings and she still talks about many of them. The nannies try to prepare the kids for leaving by playing a game on their hands where they say the names of all of the children, and then one "leaves" by walking away up the child's arm and tickling them.

All of these children are without parents. Most have parents still living, but they cannot feed them or care for them, or the parents have died of AIDS.

Abi's birth family and all the nannies attended her coffee ceremony, which was more of a tea/juice ceremony than coffee. Her birth father spoke a blessing over her that made me cry. I can tell he loves her so much and he is sad that he may never see her again, yet he is happy for her to get this chance at a good life.

The nannies told stories of her and said prayers for her and for us to raise her well. They also had some of the kids sing songs of praise to God and say blessings over Abi.

Kids from the older class attended as well. Many had sweet things to say about Abi, who was a favorite with everyone. One little boy said she was so pretty, he wanted her for his wife someday! Everyone laughed at that.

Also attending was Charlotte, a volunteer at the orphanage from Yorkshire, UK. She was spending her gap year before University working with the poor children in Africa.

The little ones had just had a snack, which was the reason for the matching shirts. The little girl in the center let me braid her hair, and I think the staff was really impressed that a "ferengi" (white foreigner) could braid hair.

This woman, the head nurse, gave Abi a kiss and a little gift. All of the nannies and orphanage staff were teary at saying goodbye to her, which showed how much she was loved. It shows now, that she had gotten good care and affection. Their investment in her will help her bond with us, and will stay with her for the rest of her life. I am so grateful for loving foster parents and orphanage nannies around the world who love kids until they can find their forever families! It makes a huge difference for these kids who need that love.

I posed for a picture with her birth family. They had not seen her for two years, and may never see her again. Meeting them felt bittersweet to me, and I am so grateful that I got to do it.

At the guesthouse, they gave us a more traditional coffee ceremony, where they roasted the coffee fresh and brewed it while we waited. I took careful notes so I can recreate the ancient tradition for my family and friends back in the States.

Abi adored Genet, the day receptionist at the guesthouse, and she cried when it was time to say goodbye.

Our driver, Yosef, who works for our adoption agency, sees the kids in KVI Orphanage a lot. He called himself Abi's big brother and loved to talk with her. Once someone translated their conversation for me. Abi told him that he could not get in his car and drive it that afternoon because a "jib" (hyena) had borrowed it.

Traditional coffee ceremonies always include popcorn. Abi ate so much she later told me "hoed ayna mommeen" (my tummy hurts).

Later we packed our things and readied ourselves for the 5am trip through the dark city streets to the Bole International Airport, where I would begin the long, long journey to bring my new daughter home to her waiting family. (next post)

Bonding

2012-02-01T14:27:00.000-08:00

Before we brought Abi home, I watched a fabulous training seminar called "Because they Waited" that dealt specifically with toddler adoption. I loved the clear, concise way they taught us what our kiddos need, why they act the way that they do, and the practical solutions to build trust, bonding, and to meet the needs that were not met at the correct developmental age so that their mental development can progress from a new foundation of care, love and met needs.

Although she is nearly four, I have been bottle-feeding Abi at the same times as I do for the Bean. The warm milk soothes her, and the mommy-feeding position communicates to her who I am and promotes attachment.

This morning, Abi was tearful, and was having a difficult time coping. Bean kept attacking her, and she could not even deal with a choice of what to eat for breakfast. I think the honeymoon period has ended, and she has subconsciously realized that this crazy, weird-smelling, non-Amharic-speaking house where she doesn't understand the unwritten rules is going to be hers for a while.

So while she moped, I slung her on my back in the Ergo I purchased for that purpose. Not only does it feel very African, but it feels very safe, very close, and Bean can't reach her.

After half an hour, she opened up again and chose "Biscuiti inna Mooz" (Cheerios and Banana) for breakfast, along with Juice, for which she knows the English word.

I have been trying to give Bean as much extra positive attention and guidance as I can. His behavior matches any 2yo when a new baby comes home, and I know it will improve over time. Trying to hold him, talk to him, show affection to him, and at the same time, consistently enforce manners, respect and boundaries already seems to be helping his craziness subside.

Curly and Mister both enjoy their new little sister, although the language barrier makes it difficult for them to interact directly. Curly in particular keeps trying to say Amharic words, give Abi toys and find ways to talk and interact with her. Abi, on her part, thinks Curly is pretty darn cool, and loves to parrot her English words ad nauseum, much to Curly's amusing dismay.

Mister has been more reserved, which is his personality. I have no doubt once Abi can speak English and begins playing LEGOs with him, they will become good friends.

As with anything, Abi's adjustment will take time and patience, but she is doing so well already learning to live in a family and learning to love us. For only being home ten days, I'm quite encourages with her progress, even the moments of grief, moping or tantrums. They are totally expected and need to happen in order for future healthy relationships with us to occur.

The New Normal

2012-01-30T11:32:00.001-08:00

"How are you adjusting?" That's the most frequent question I get lately.

My answer is, "how do you expect we're adjusting?" We added a 3yo who doesn't speak English to our household.

Some moments are beautiful, like when she throws her arms around me and tells me that she loves me, or dances around at the prospect of a ride in the car.

Mostly, it's pure survival mode. She still wakes up at 5am and wakes Bean and the rest of us. Bean is in full-swing jealous mode all of the time. He doesn't give us a break from being as grouchy and naughty as he can think of. Mister whines; Curly tries to help and ends up breaking eggs, spilling juice, getting marker everywhere... You get the picture.

My day is survived moment to moment. I try to take delight in full meals eaten and imaginative stories in between scolding Bean for eating a toy, or banning Mister from the iPod.

In two months, we'll have more communication, and we'll be able to go to the park again. Until then, I'll do my best to keep the LEGOs out of the toilet!

A Week in Addis

2012-01-26T21:58:00.001-08:00

Leaving the orphanage, I took Abi to the guesthouse where we both took a long nap. I expected her to be scared, but she loved all the staff (the feeling was entirely mutual) and loved exploring her new surroundings.

Because she was so hesitant walking around, I gave her the kiddie cane I'd brought for her and showed her how to use it. She understood right away what it was for, and understood that she could use it to walk around by herself, so she LOVED it! We had so much fun, I forgot to take very many pictures.

On Tuesday, we went to the American embassy building. It had been closed for the holiday the day before, so the lines to get in were unusually long. We stood next to families scented with hopefulness, under a television screen with idyllic scenes of American life, like the Statue of Liberty and small children with balloons. Officious-looking Ethiopian security guards in uniforms stood everywhere.

One of the rules at the embassy was that you had to check your cell phone and camera. Obviously, I have no pictures of our visit there, but I remember sitting in a large, crowded waiting room with Abi on my lap. She got bored, and began singing at the top of her lungs, "Leeeeessss, Dzeeezuz Lubs Meeeeeeeeee!" (Yes, Jesus Loves Me) and dropping her LEGOs on the floor.

At last our name was called, and we walked to a window in a row of windows, behind which a blonde American man in his 20's shuffled through my paperwork and asked me a few questions. The interview took ten minutes. We'd waited in line almost 2 hours.

While driving around Addis, our driver Yosef was so delighted that I was learning Amharic that he took it upon himself to be my own personal Tutor In Advanced Amharic. My memories of driving are punctuated with him saying "What is Amharic for pencil? You don't remember? I tell you yesterday. Do you remember Wednesday? Heh-rohb! Very good! Wow, not many Americans speak Amharic." He insisted I memorize "Mesa Mehbraht Tefellegallech?" (Do you want to eat lunch?), and I discovered upon returning home that this sentence has been handier than any other word besides "shinta-bayt" (toilet).

While we were there, the city geared up for the Holy Day of Epiphany. All week, workmen climbed poles to hang colorful flags across the streets where the procession of the faithful would pass. As the Day approached, the traffic became even more crowded than before as people from the country came into the city for the celebration.

Yosef, who is Orthodox, said that he was fasting by eating no meat, only Injera (a crepe-like flat bread) and Shiro-Wat (a red-lentil stew) but no meat. On the Friday of Epiphany, his family would eat Doro-Wat (a spicy chicken stew with a hard-boiled egg in it) to celebrate the Holy Day.

On Wednesday, I shopped in the little "souks" or stalls for souvenirs to take home. Traditional clothes and a "jebena" or coffee pot all found their way into my overpacked suitcase. I also got some traditional incense to use in a coffee ceremony, although its crystalline appearance caught the attention of the TSA who thought it looked like drugs and slashed it open to check it, where it later filtered all through my suitcase and ruined a shirt. Good thing we live in a free country where personal property is respected (insert sarcasm here).

Still, it was a fun, strange, week. Long hours of sitting around at the guesthouse, talking (Ethiopians love to do this), knitting, and getting to know Abi, mingle in a blur with hours of driving in a hot car from here to there amid honking traffic and hundreds of thousands of people walking, walking, walking. Most people there walk, sometimes for miles, to work or shop, as driving is a luxury only the wealthiest can afford. Under the warm sun, no one hurried, but just walked. Some trudged; some walked with a spring in their steps. Some stopped to browse the shops as they passed, the shops with mannequins held captive against thievery by strings around their necks, or shops selling mattresses piled on the roof, or shops with baskets or bowls or stings of bananas. On one corner, a foosball table sat in the middle of a patch of dirt, while a group of boys used it for an animated game; an old man with a donkey watched. We passed a woman in a gray skirt using a pickaxe to dig a hole in the road. Women with beautifully braided hair held the hands of tiny children in green or purple school uniforms, while older children in the same colors played tag along the sides of the crowded street.

I sat in the cocoon of my hired car and absorbed it all from behind the sheltering pane of glass that kept me forever separate from what I saw and heard and smelled. I tried to remember every face, every sign, every color, like the shop that sold only blue clothes or the shop that sold "Passion Burgers." I wanted to be able to tell Abi about the place she came from. I'd like to tell her about the rounded spires of the Orthodox churches and the undulating call of the muezzin as he calls the Muslims to pray. I'll tell her about the little shoe-shine boys and the green-and-yellow fences and the fluttering silks hanging from the roofs made of corrugated tin. I'll tell her about the way people would cross the street so close to your car that they would slap your hood as they passed. Maybe she will be able to see in her mind's eye the image of the old, bent holy men in their while hats and fluttering white robes as they pace along the dusty road in that ancient place. Even if she doesn't remember that city, I will never forget it.

Next post: Farewell coffee ceremonies and a 34-hour "Guzo" (journey) home.

First Piano

2012-01-24T14:17:00.000-08:00

During Abi's first full day at home, she discovered the piano, just before it was time to go to bed. She had so much fun exploring the notes, I had to take a little video of her.

She was singing in the video, a little song she has sung to us before. It's in Amharic, and we didn't know what it was about for sure, although, we knew it was her favorite song.

This morning, I got this email from our social worker in Georgia:

I was able to check out some of the other videos you posted on YouTube of Abi! I was just crazy about the one of her playing the piano & sent it to everyone in the office & everyone in the Addis office. Everyone just can't stop talking about how ridiculously precious she is ;)

But, I got this email back from H today & thought I'd pass it on. She explains what it is that Abi is singing about when she was playing the piano. Thought you'd get a kick out of it!

Thanks B for sharing this. We couldn't stop smiling looking at her and listening to what she is singing in the video. At first she was naming alphabets as u could hear it and then she called number 1-3 then the singing starts She was singing a spiritual song that tells that she is giving a praise for her Lord and she was inviting for anyone who has great God like hers to praise God. She was singing that devil can't make her stop from singing and praising her God. Hope this helps a little for her family to understand that she is singing and praising her Lord. FYI Abebech is really known in her room for her singing while she was in KVI. Her nannies always invite her to sing for others.Thanks again,H

It's so neat to have agency workers who care so much about the kids they serve, and their families, like us. We are really blessed. :)

Gotcha Day

2012-01-23T23:32:00.000-08:00

A week ago was Martin Luther King Jr. day in America. In Addis, although the American Embassy was closed to observe the holiday, the Ethiopians were preparing for Epiphany by hanging colorful banners above the roads. For me, it was the day I finally got to go to the orphanage and collect one small child, and take her with me.

The first thing she did was to confiscate my camera case, calling it her "boorsa" (purse).

Inside the camera case were six AA batteries. She removed and counted these many times as I held her on my lap in the sunshine.

Like most of the children, she adored the "machina" (car), although there are so many things wrong with this image, I really had to chuckle.

People from my town donated vitamins and toothbrushes to the orphanage. They are always grateful for donations, however small. In this case, ten bottles of vitamins will go toward helping little people stay healthy.

Our driver, Yosef, a favorite of the kids, took pictures of the orphanage for me. Someday, we'll look at the pictures together and remember where she used to live. I feel so blessed that she got to live in this orphanage in particular. The nannies taught her many darling little songs, and how to count, both in English and Amharic. They fed her meals and snacks, and tucked her into her little bed.

They played with her and hugged her, and told her that Jesus loves her. Although she won't remember them, their contribution to her life will last for the rest of her years.

Then, oh joy! I climbed into the car, and instead of saying goodbye, I had her beside me, chattering away. We went to the guest house together, exploring and getting to know one another for the rest of that wonderful Monday.

What Language Barrier?

2012-01-22T21:31:00.001-08:00

Apparently Toddler is a universal language.

Visiting South Africa

2012-01-22T18:41:00.001-08:00

Right now, I'm fighting the stay awake, despite the fact that my poor, confused brain thinks it's 3AM. So, in an effort to keep my drooping eyelids open for a few more hours, I'll try to write one of the many blog posts I have planned to tell you about my trip.

A good blogger friend of mine, Ashleigh, lives in South Africa. We met on Twitter, oddly enough, but found that we have much in common, including unschooling, enjoying many of the same TV shows, loving braille, wishing we could do both full-time career and full-time mommying, knitting, and probably a lot of other stuff my sleepy brain isn't remembering at the moment. I never expected to be able to meet in person, since she lives on the other side of the globe.

As I planned my trip to get Abi, I discovered that one of the international routes to Addis included a layover in Johannesburg, a mere thirty minutes from her home. This planted the seed of an idea to extend my layover for a few days and visit her. Again, I never expected it to really happen, but, as you can see, it did! I felt like a sophisticated world traveler, jaunting off to South Africa to visit a friend, not the small-town Idaho farm girl I really am.

I have here a sampling of the wonderful pictures and memories from the two days I got to spend with her and her sweet family. They welcomed me so warmly into their home, I really did feel like family instead of a stranger.

This tree sat outside my bedroom window. Actually, the bedroom belonged to their older daughter, who was sweet enough to share with her younger sister while I was there. I can't remember the name of it, but its very uniqueness reminded me as much as the summer weather than I was a long way from home.

During the Saturday I was there, Adrian and Ash treated me to a visit to a wildlife preserve where Adrian, a wildlife vet, had designed and implemented a lion habitat. We rode a safari truck along red roads toward the lions.

Without a fence between us, the lions viewed the wild humans from the comfort of their spot by the water tanks.

Self-portrait and proof that I was actually there in a place where short sleeves made it feel like June rather than January.

The park ranger could stroke the lion cubs. We got a behind-the-scenes narration of a heath issue that one of the cubs had suffered. Luckily, she was recovering nicely.

Elsewhere in the park, after enjoying coffee and good conversation, we saw some browsing zebras, along with their egret friends.

An ostrich calmly watched us pass, while her sisters hid from view in the tall grass.

A kingfisher sat on the road, only a few feet from our vehicle. We took several pictures of it before it decided we might be scary and flew off.

Ash knew the name of this bird, but I have forgotten it. Maybe she will leave a comment to add in all of the wildlife details that I'm missing...

...including the actual name of these gazelles. If you've seen the YouTube video of the cyclist who was taken out by the gazelle, it was right here in this park.

Hubby was thrilled to discover that traffic lights in South Africa are called robots, and the word shows up painted on the road sometimes.

While I was there, I enjoyed Adrian and Ash's lovely home, including this courtyard and patio where the summer weather enticed us outdoors. We feasted with a South African braai, which is sort of like a barbecue, only with slightly different traditional foods. More friends came, and we ate and talked all evening.

Later, on Saturday night, Ash and I talked until 2AM, watching silly bad movies and then going deeper, sharing hopes and dreams as kindred spirits can do.

On Sunday morning, we briefly visited their house church before it was time to go on to the airport. I was sad to leave after only a few short days, but I was also excited to go on to Addis to meet my little princess, the story of which I will tell in my next post.

Welcome Home, Princess Abi!

2012-01-22T06:05:00.000-08:00

Our family is together at last!

I have lots of stories about my amazing trip and our amazing little girl, so I'll try to get blogging this week. :)

Thank you everyone, for your prayers and notes/comments of encouragement as we brought Abi home. We give honor and glory to God for His love and care through the whole process and my trip alone to Africa to get Abi.

Countdown

2012-01-09T18:51:00.000-08:00

This week. I leave this week. In just a few days.

I've been waiting for months. Years, actually. In some ways, I have been waiting forever.

I think the last few days are the hardest.

I wish I had something deep and profound to write about, but I don't really. I've been packing. Packing little clothes, sized 4T, is a lot of fun, as is buying little shiny shoes. I bought a little toy ladybug.

The suitcase has a lot of Cheerios in it.

A lot of people have asked me what the other kids think about this whole thing. Since I am terrible at reading their minds, I really have no idea what they think. They know they are getting another sister, and as far as I can tell, that is cool with them.

I'm dreading the many long flights. There is simply nothing you can do to make them less miserable than they are, and combined with the hours in the airports, it's going to be really tough. It's the airports I'm most worried about. I have this handy little phobia of crowds of strangers, with a nice healthy dose of hating visually overwhelming locations like, say, an airport. To call the experience "out of my comfort zone" is like throwing your average house cat into a lake. Somehow, I'll make it through, simply because I have no other option.

Hubby is staying here with the other three Goombas. He didn't have enough leave time, nor did we have the dollars for two tickets. So he and Mom are holding down the fort here (thanks, Mom!) while I travel halfway around the world. Again.

I looked it up. The distance as the crow flies between my house and Addis is 8,319 miles or 13,387 km. That's not too far, right?

People have been donating vitamins. I'm amazed at how many people have dropped off a couple of bottles of vitamins and some toothbrushes for me to take to the orphanage. So I have vitamins tucked in every corner of my suitcase. Here in the States, vitamins supplement an already nutritious diet. In Addis, they might save a life. They're worth leaving home a shirt or two.

We're re-using the Advent calendar to count down to the day Abi comes home. January 21st is the day she meets her forever family. The Advent calendar has a gray felt mouse on it.

Heroism

2012-01-02T19:03:00.001-08:00

My Hubby, who often laments the humdrum existence that he leads, had a chance to perform a heroic rescue today.

My daughter's current favorite toy, a dinosaur named "Spiky," became lodged ten feet above the ground when Curly's friend accidentally tossed him onto the shelf-like light sconces near the ceiling at the mall's indoor play place. Hubby pulled a long pole out of a nearby ficus tree, and stood on a chair, with the result being that Spiky got pushed farther back against the wall. Hubby then wrapped his coat around the pole, which looked like a big, poufy torch, but it worked to bat the dinosaur down into my waiting daughter's arms.

Everyone at the mall, including those waiting in line for the cinema, cheered.

Hubby blogged about it too.

Books Read in 2011

2011-12-30T11:58:00.001-08:00

Hubby inspired me to make a book list too. His is much more impressive in content than mine, since most of mine this year was fairly light reading. I also read less by about 60% than I usually do, since I read more blogs and more audio books than formerly.

Books read in 2011

Anne's House of Dreams
The Hobbit
Hind's Feet on High Places
Pollyanna
The Forgotten Garden
Borderlands of Blindness
Rainbow Valley
Land of Painted Caves
Knowledge of the Holy
Care and Feeding of the Long White Cane
Independent Movement and Travel in Blind Children
Anne of the Island
Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children
The Magician's Nephew
The Silmarillion
Letters of a Woman Homesteader
The Lost Symbol
On Fairy Stories
The Last Battle
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone (in Braille)
Henry V
Anne of Green Gables
The Divide (partial)
Four Max Carrados Detective Stories
The Velveteen Rabbit
100 Cupboards
Dandelion Fire
The Secret Garden
Eavesdropping
Cockeyed
The True Story of My Life (Hans Christian Andersen)
The Wind in the Willows
True Faced
The Duggars: 20 and Counting!

Yes!!!

2011-12-30T10:08:00.001-08:00

We got our approval today from the embassy in Addis! We can make travel plans now. We've been waiting for this day for a LONG time. :)

Toasting My Toes

2011-12-27T20:30:00.001-08:00

For some reason, I couldn't seem to get warm today, so after dinner tonight, we pushed the table back and built a fire. Our firewood pile right now is full of recycled wood from Dad's work, which are cut into circles and look strangely like burning tires, along with all of the paper trash or cardboard that we separate and save.

I sat toasting my toes and sipping vanilla chamomile tea while Hubby quizzed us on Amharic vocabulary (score: 330 vocab words learned) and the kids played with their Webkinz or colored pictures. This is my favorite quiet family evening at home: all of us snug in our warm house contentedly pursuing our various diversions or learning something new.

Practice Follies

2011-12-26T18:16:00.001-08:00

A couple of observations on tonight's music practice:

Playing to your stuffed Orca makes practice time go more smoothly.

No matter how sweet your sister's playing sounds, it's important to act like it's fingernails on a chalkboard, just on brotherly principle.

You might as well get comfortable.

Merry Christmas!

2011-12-24T09:55:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas, from our family to yours!

Morning Webkinz

2011-12-19T11:00:00.001-08:00

We gave Curly and Mister a special Christmas present early. Mister's current fascination with Orcas resulted in asking for a stuffed Orca for Christmas. I managed to find one better on Amazon: an Orca Webkinz.

In order to make this long week leading up to Christmas a little more fun, we let them unwrap these last night, so of course they asked to get online first thing this morning.

Curly's Ice Dragon and Mister's Orca soon had a virtual home. Although I'm aware that Webkinz is just a game, I see my kids learning vital technological skills, and constantly problem-solving. Some of the pictures Curly "paints" remind me of my own beginning efforts with virtual design, eventually leading to my learning PhotoShop and doing web design, which for years has been a fairly lucrative freelance job.

Snapshot: Out of the Tub

2011-12-17T18:31:00.001-08:00

I took these pics with my iPod Touch, so the quality isn't great, but he was so cute, I couldn't resist. :)

Scribbling

2011-12-11T20:56:00.001-08:00

Our electric Perkins brailler has been sitting on the shelf tempting the kids for several months. Today, I gave in to their requests to "write braille," so I got out a slate and stylus, a stack of leftover braille paper, and the trusty, indestructible Perkins.

All three of them busily scribbled all day long with both markers and braille. Between the noise of the stylus, and the loud braillewriter, it sounded like Stomp had visited our house.

I didn't worry about teaching them many letters, although Curly learned the letters in her name. There will be plenty of time for that. Today, I just let them play and enjoy the fun of making bumps and dots.

When Abi comes, I want braille to be just a normal item in our house. It's the way some of us read in our family, so it's not sacred or special. Approaching it playfully just fits right in to our unschooly ways. :)

And the Oscar goes to...

2011-12-11T20:26:00.001-08:00

Today was our annual Children's Christmas Program. I LOVE our church because there are tons of families with kids, nobody minds fingerprints on the glass doors to the sanctuary, and the Christmas Program is a laid-back, enjoyable affair with minimal fuss and no striving for a polished performance.

Little Mister got to be an angel this year. Here, he's waiting for time to go upstairs.

Curly got to be a donkey. She and the other "animals" had a ball crawling around while the "shepherds" attempted to herd them into line. It looked much like herding cats.

Mister sang "Away in a Manger."

They got a little help from the congregation when they couldn't remember the words. The cuteness factor more than made up for the singing!

For the Bible reading, this teen used his iPhone. I just got a kick out of it. Guess the Bible isn't a bad app to have on his iPhone. :)

The 1st-3rd graders were next. Getting them onto the stage was barely short of chaos.

Curly, I mean Donkey, sang all the words to "O Come All Ye Faithful" with quite a bit of gusto.

She told me at home that she couldn't wait to sing "her song." Apparently the enthusiastic applause satisfied her, because she was all smiles afterward, as were her sheep and cow friends.

Fears

2011-12-08T09:19:00.001-08:00

I think every mother in her third trimester of pregnancy goes through a moment or two of panic. I know I sure did. Well, adoption is no different. Except you have more time to worry.

I'm not a worrier by nature. Ususally, I leave that to my mom. Still, every once in a while, I find myself allowing fears to creep in and disrupt my otherwise iron-clad digestion.

This time, my adoption worries are completely irrational. I'm worried that Abi won't like me. Yep, That's what I am afraid of. There are several reasons for this particular little monster on my shoulder. For one thing, when you're adopting, it seems that everyone you talk to takes it upon themselves to tell you the most ghoulish horror story they can think of. Now that we're past the stage where the stories consist of the child dying of some dreadful disease before you can get her safely adopted, or the adoption process taking 32 years, we've moved on to the Attachment woes, with a capital A. I think the training we get, while useful later in the practical realm, now just makes me more freaked out now, because it describes every. possible. situation. that could go wrong. Books on attachment or toddler adoption begin by describing some poor family's worst-case-scenario, which later will be beautifully solved, as proof of why the book works and why you, as an unsuspecting adoptive parent, need to read it, so you don't get caught in just such a scenario. These stories tend to scare the crud out of me, as they describe the pain and stress and heartache these families endure on their journey to adoptive bliss.

Another reason my confidence is shaky is that previous to this, I have always begun with newborns. As far as I know, newborns don't have much of an opinion for the first few months. Feed them and snuggle them, and they are pretty cool with Mom. This gives some time to bond and establish yourself as a rockin' parent before they hid the harder stages. A 3.5 year old is a different kettle of fish entirely. Three-year-olds are opinionated, probably as opinionated as seventeen-year-olds and forty-year-olds. How am I going to successfully insert myself into her life at this age, disrupt it entirely and drag her to a new country with new smells and new food and three other kids who all demand my attention, and expect her to somehow like me?

I'm like any mother; I want my kids to like me! Love me, yes, but like me too. One of my biggest struggles as a mom is correcting and disciplining my kids because they don't like it. Heck, I don't like it either, but I do it, for their good and my sanity. Still, I struggle when my kids don't like me.

So far, loving Abi has not been a problem. Already, I adore her. She's pretty and smart and fun and girly. My worry right now is the reciprocation. What if she doesn't like me back? What if she doesn't want to leave her warm home in Africa and come live in chilly Idaho?

I'm probably being silly. In fact, I'm pretty sure I am. We mothers can be a paranoid bunch. Lately, though, that's the reality of what's in my head. Just keeping it real, folks.

Snapshot: Braids and Beads

2011-12-07T08:46:00.001-08:00

Watchman's Song and Chords

2011-12-04T08:32:00.000-08:00

Little Mister has been polishing Watchman's song, which is one of his first hands-together pieces.

He also wanted to make a "little chord video." Hubby has been teaching him major and minor triads, so he loves to make up chords, based mostly on interesting finger positions at the moment, rather than conventional sounds.

Brahms Waltz

2011-12-04T08:13:00.000-08:00

Although Curly is working on the Lully Gavotte in Book 2, she chose to play the Brahms Waltz for the camera, because she felt like it was more polished. She discovered, however, when she went to play it, that she hasn't reviewed it for a while!

Bean Dictionary

2011-12-04T07:46:00.000-08:00

Chumpum- Ketchup
Bicket- Blanket
DUMM-a-Seep- Shaun the Sheep
Doosh- Juice
Yum-yum- Vitamin
Cock-it- Chocolate
Doat- Coat (Little Mister used to call his Football Coat: Bu-ball Doat too)
Puh-keem- Pumpkin
Ashoos- Excused?
Zah- Seth
Tat-oo! Thank you
Ah saiii- I'm sorry
Nah-nah- Knock-knock

We were trying to think of all the cute stuff he says, but he says a lot of things correctly already! This morning, hubby sneezed really loudly, and Bean said, "Whoa! Bless you!" It cracked me up. :)

A few of the things he says correctly:

Natta
Da-da
duck
Change you!
lunch
Oh, wow...
hellooooo!

That's just a small sampling that I can think of off the top of my head. He chatters constantly, and is starting to correctly identify his colors and letters. I love this stage when babies begin to talk. Every day we hear new words, and we know more about what he is thinking and feeling.

Word Sketches From A Winter's Walk

2011-12-03T16:30:00.001-08:00

...sky the color of raspberry sherbet, pushed back by the jagged shadows of quiet trees...

...long, gray strip of sidewalk, its edges furry with fallen leaves...

...conversational saw cutting firewood...

...Shadow snuffling through rusted oak leaves in search of an acorn to carry away...

...sore spot on the bottom of my foot which contemplated becoming a blister...

...meandering path, chummily accompanying the shivering creek...

...my road ahead obliterated by the searchlights of an oncoming car...

...twilight like a lithe, gray cat...

...small, thoughtful stone gargoyle guarding its withered garden...

...power lines write a musical staff across the cold sky...

...in a round, bare tree, the bump of a nest sits off-center...

...deceptive ice layering the still, murky water...

...warm water bubbling into an icy dog-bowl...

...colored lights in the still dimness...

Decorations of Red on a Green Christmas Tree

2011-12-03T14:42:00.001-08:00

P.S. It was SO much fun to add a sixth stocking and paint Abi's name onto it! She's coming so soon.

Snapshot: Techie Kid

2011-11-30T19:41:00.001-08:00

If you're going to rock out properly, it's important to have the right set-up. And a plastic toy hammer.

How do people with low vision see?

2011-11-29T14:41:00.001-08:00

My friend Becca, whose job is to teach living skills to newly blinded adults, and I teamed up to write an informational photo journey through a few ways VI people see. We did this in an attempt to increase awareness and respect for those who navigate the world differently, not to inspire praise or pity. In general people who have a vision impairment are able to use alternate techniques to do just about anything they want to do, but it's helpful for sighted people to be aware of how a VI person sees and how hard he or she might be working to complete certain tasks, while other things that sighted people assume are impossible turn out to be quite easy.

But enough chattering! Here is our post:

http://theblindodiaries.blog.com/2011/11/29/how-do-you-see/

Books for Children

2011-11-28T20:59:00.001-08:00

Seldom does another writer sum up so eloquently why I read children's books, and why someday I'd like to write them. While I find profound wisdom in the beautifully simple, that's not actually the point. http://www.rabbitroom.com/2011/11/the-art-of-play/

Spooky Elves

2011-11-28T20:45:00.001-08:00

Tonight, Little Mister practiced "Watchman's Song" on the piano, my favorite song from the Green book. Hearing it, I was suddenly ten years old again, and playing the whimsical little song for the first time. I have no idea where the song or the poem came from, but the few simple words ignited my imagination as a child.

I walk around the castle, every night at twelve.
The shadows from my lantern look like spooky elves.

What stories those eighteen words built in my mind! I pictured a medieval castle, chilly and drafty, and a young man, intent on his job responsibility. He would begin his rounds, fear gripping his throat as he haltingly stepped through the darkness. That kind of delicious terror that raises the hair on my arms would come over me as I thought of this frightened lad, creeping along a tall stone wall in the silent darkness, the flickering, dancing shadows following him and harassing him, catching at the corners of his gaze to tempt him to look at them.

Even at age ten, I loved the sound of those words in the second line, and the gentle cadence of the musical notes. Even now, hearing the song makes me want to write stories, to craft these musical words into tales that bring to life the scared, creeping little watchman and his flock of spooky elves.

Textures!

2011-11-26T14:03:00.001-08:00

"Texture" has become the new coolest word at our house. When we shop, Curly runs around feeling things like Christmas ornaments with glitter on them, asking me, "Do you think Abi would like this texture, Mommy?" My thought is that Abi is three, so would probably like to see how far she can throw the ornament across the store.

Still, thinking about texture has its advantages. Yesterday, I decided to tackle the Candyland game, and make it accessible for play by all my kids, including Abi. What crafty-minded person wouldn't love such a project? I rounded up Hubby and the Goombas (aside: wouldn't that make a great name for a band?) and we all went to JoAnn's Fabrics. The shopkeepers watched in amusement as our family ran around the store feeling fabrics, and saying things like "how about this for a nice, smooth blue?" or "Look, this one is scratchy!"

We ended up with green satin, red fleece, yellow cotton, purple velvet, orange burlap and blue corduroy. Using my rotary cutter and quilting square, it was an easy matter to cut out 1" pieces for the cards and 1/2" pieces for the game board.

Game pieces took a little more problem-solving, since constantly touching the board results in pieces that get knocked every which way, not to mention standing a game piece on top of a tiny square of fleece would never work. We finally solved it by sticking pieces of square, transparent Velcro next to the colored squares. A bit of Velcro on the bottom of the wooden playing pieces, and each texture-wrapped "person" will stand securely next to the playing spot.

Next, I worked on the Rainbow Trail, the Gumdrop Pass, and the Lose-a-Turn Licorice spots. Marking the special squares and shortcut paths with puff paint made them easy to see and feel.

All of the special character squares received a braille label, which matches the braille on the corresponding character card. I figured that matching the braille words would be a good pre-reading exercise, as well as giving me an excuse to pull out my braille slate and stylus.

I had thought that this project would take much longer, but it only took a couple of hours to glue everything in place. Not only did I have a wonderful time inventing, problem-solving and crafting, but now we have a fully accessible board game to add to the family game night rotation.

Sharing Bean Moments

2011-11-25T11:35:00.001-08:00

I made a little video of Bean playing with his Daddy to share with Miss A (Bean's birth mom). She loves to get little videos and stories about him, and since she currently lives halfway across the country, and can't visit as often as she'd like, the videos are even more special.

Thanksgivingness

2011-11-24T22:16:00.001-08:00

We had a lovely Thanksgiving Feast with Mom and Dad. Sis and BIL ended up going elsewhere (sending prayers to BIL's family) so we had WAY too much food, but that was ok. :)

Menu for the curious on the other side of the pond: All the traditionals- turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes and gravy, green bean casserole, jellied cranberries, dinner rolls, apple-pecan green salad, pasta salad, fruit salad, candied yams, pumpkin pie, apple pie, various adult drinks, along with egg nog, juice, and (my favorite) good old ice water.

I do have a few funny kid stories from the trip down, and a few pieces of our lives to tack on for the memory books.

Bean

Mom had a towel hung on the kitchen drawer and Bean saw her wiping her hands on it. He really, really wanted to wipe his in the same way, and the only water easily available was in the dog's dish. So he rinsed his hands there (repeatedly) in order to use the towel like Mama. :)

Little Mister

While we were relaxing in the Living Room waiting for the turkey to be done, Little Mister decided that the toy hairbrush and comb qualified him for barber work, so he came to me with them and two toy cell phones. I was to call him and request that he brush my hair for me, which I forthwith did. He busily brushed and combed all of my hairspray out while I purred like a cat. He was so pleased with my response, that he continued to do "favors" for me the rest of the evening. He piled a bunch of books on my chair for me to read later; he followed me around with the popping push toy "vacuuming" for me, and wanted to sit by me at dinner.

He also insisted I take his picture when I took the picture of the family at the table. So here he is!

Curly

After dinner, we went to the Locomotive Park. I have to explain this unique place, so let me take a minute to do so.

This is a Google Image sampling of scenes from the Locomotive park. The community pulls together every year to fund and build a winter fairy-land of Christmas lights in a little downtown park. They decorate the vintage steam engine, and over the years have added a huge outdoor fireplace, a dance floor, more walkways and figures and music. We love to take the kids there.

Anyway, Curly, as usual, took off at top speed as soon as she got there, without regard to the darkness, rain, or crowds of other people. Mom headed off after her, and found that she'd tripped on something and took a tumble. In spite of limping dramatically the rest of the evening, she managed to run around the entire park, enjoying the walk-in igloo, the dancing penguin figures and the real train bell that could be rung by pulling with all her might on a rope.

Hubby and I spent the drive back home in the rainy dark using the Flashcard app on my iPod to study our Amharic vocabulary. The idea that Abi will come into our family not knowing any English, and that one of use will likely travel back to Ethiopia to get her made me determined to learn more words than "thank you."

I have an Amharic app that gives us pronunciations, and I wrote the flash cards as phonetically correct as I could, so we have been quizzing each other, and trying to make up weird mnemonic devices, such as using the actor David Wendham, who played a "brother" in LOTR to remember that "Wehn-Dihm" means "brother." Hey, we go with whatever works in such cases of linguistic survival mode!

And as my friend Beth commented, "Next year, Thanksgiving with Abi." Yep, I'm thankful for my growing family. :)

Snapshot: Cocoa With Whipped Cream

2011-11-22T12:25:00.001-08:00

Important Project

2011-11-21T12:31:00.001-08:00

Last weekend, GG and G'pa Bob came from Oregon, bearing gifts. One was a Gingerbread house kit, the very thing the kids had been asking me to buy for them.

Beginning work.

Curly worked intently and with purpose. This was a serious undertaking!

Someone caught me taking pictures of the proceedings

Bean's gingerbread man fell victim to his hungry artist.

Little Mister built a castle with some of the leftover gumdrops

Finished gingerbread house and tree.

Pictures From A Morning Walk

2011-11-19T13:18:00.001-08:00

May we please trace letters?

2011-11-16T09:38:00.001-08:00

Curly and Mister have improved dramatically this fall in handwriting neatness and correct letter formation. This morning, Mister requested that I print them out a practice worksheet, and who was I to argue?

They go about tracing letters in quite a characteristic manner. Curly hurries through the task, trying to finish first.

Mister, on the other hand, takes his time and gets the job done as neatly and perfectly as possible.

Bean, who had to have one like the big kids, ignored the letters and scribbled everywhere. His improvement was simply staying on the paper rather than coloring the table purple.

Note: Yes, we do school in our pajamas. Why not?

Blind Unschooling

2011-11-14T12:13:00.001-08:00

For a long time, I was a very reluctant homeschooling mom. Homeschooling sounded frustrating, difficult, and exhausting. Bloggers complained about feeling constantly behind and overwhelmed; the curriculum that I examined showed lists and lists of supplies to gather and messy activities to do. I imagined the constant conflict of sitting my strong-willed daughter down at the kitchen table and forcing her to do endless worksheets. That struck me as a battle I simply didn't want to fight. I have a pretty strong will myself, so I didn't doubt my ability to do it, but just because I could did it mean I should?

Then, I stumbled upon a blog called Nurtured by Love while searching for Suzuki violin stories. The joyful learning experiences Miranda described did not fit at all the picture I had of homeschooling. I researched more, read more... The more I read about Unschooling, the more it looked like exactly what our family needed. Learning that was spontaneous, joyful, and exactly on my kids' learning level looked like such fun compared to forcing ourselves into an arbitrary schedule and curriculum, written by someone who did not even know my kids. Digging up resources together like a treasure hunt looked easy compared to assembling pre-written lists of supplies.

Just as I assumed I would not be homeschooling the other three kids, I assumed that Abi would need the services of a public school TVI (teacher of the visually impaired). She has almost no usable vision, and somewhere in the back of my mind was the idea that you simply are not allowed to homeschool a special-needs child. Once again, my constant hunting for resources on the internet paid off. I found and joined a listserve called Blindhomeschooler, which turned out to be the most fantastic group of parents, both parents homeschooling blind children, and blind parents who homeschool. The second group turned out to be nearly as helpful, since I have been homeschooling for several years now with low vision. I read every email that came through the list with growing excitement that I can indeed teach my blind daughter at home just as successfully as my sighted kids. That doesn't mean I will never use services from the state or school district. Quite the contrary, we'll do whatever is necessary to give her a full education. Rather, I realized how much I can truly offer her at home.

For starters, Last year, I finally obtained my Braille transcribing certificate. What this means for Abi, is that I can teach her to read in the same organic manner that I have taught the older two. I can surround her with books that she can read, both purchased at sites like Seedlings, or fabricated myself.

To teach the other kids to read and spell, we made good use of the Bananagrams letter tiles. Now, it was an easy matter to add Braille to each tile using clear Dymo tape. The other kids had great fun with this, and it was a beginning to their own mastery of Braille in order to read with their sister or write her notes.

Stories by parents of blind children who are having trouble with motivation to use a long white cane prompted me to buy some lovely little rhinestones at Michael's to bling out the Kiddie Cane that I got for Abi. I have hopes that the "pretties" for little fingers to feel and for friends to notice will make the cane a fun accessory instead of an awkward piece of equipment.

Of course, our family does tactile projects already. Foam puzzles, wooden toys, clay, playdough, pipe cleaners, beads, dominoes, dice, dollhouses, LEGOs... the list of accessible projects around the house seems endless.

Although it seems cliché, music often appeals to blind kinds, and I know already that Abi loves to sing. She is in luck with our family, as we have available a wide range of instruments, including a piano that's open for little fingers to try any time.

A good tool that I've discovered from my own experience with low vision is the iPod Touch. Not only does VoiceOver make it completely accessible right out of the box (yay, Apple!), but the list of apps that sing, read stories, or make sounds grows daily.

Even now, while she is still in the orphanage, I know she is learning to count, learning words in English, learning to sing and clap and dance. While we were there, another parent donated a Leapfrog Baby Tad that Abi immediately latched onto, listening to the little songs over and over, and enjoying the flashing lights. We gave them the rest of our travel stash of batteries, to keep it going a little longer.

Gathering resources seems like a good way to stay busy while I wait for her to come home. I know from schooling the other kids that once she comes, I'll be a lot busier using them, and have less time to gather them. Also, each fun educational toy that I collect, or message board or blog that I read makes it seem more real, that she really is coming very soon, and we'll dive into learning together (slowly, as she learns to love and trust us). Like the other kids, I have no idea how much "regular" school her future holds, but I know that we have a lot to give her right here in her new home.

Curly Turns Seven

2011-11-12T19:39:00.001-08:00

Having to wait for weeks after her brothers' birthdays has been tough, but at last her day came, and what a day! Presents, family, cake, and best of all: the first snowfall of the winter!

Fall Leaves

2011-11-11T19:17:00.001-08:00

It seems like only yesterday that I wrote the post last year about the kids playing in the leaves. Yet here it is a year later, and on a sunny walk downtown, we stopped along the way to play in the golden piles of crackling maple leaves. It was the first year Bean understood how much fun leaves can be. To watch him throwing armfuls of them into the air and roll down the hill surrounded by crisp, rustling fun absolutely made my day.

Pics of Meeting Abi

2011-11-06T17:32:00.000-08:00

I think, since we passed court and everything is official, I can finally post pics of our sweet girlie! I am SO excited to share pics with you...been waiting a long time. Enjoy!

Here's the very first meeting. A completely indescribable moment. Hubby and I were both tearful.

Although the social worker told us to smile, it's a little hard to do when you're so emotional!

She served us pretend coffee in cups made of plastic blocks.

As you can imagine, I am counting down the days until she gets to come home. :)

First Attempt

2011-11-05T12:10:00.001-07:00

Despite much laughter on the part of Yoseph when I told him, I am determined to fabricate authentic injera (Ethiopian staple food, like a crepe) at home.

I bought some teff flour at our local food co-op and set to work. My first attempts, as expected, look like this:

Interest-Led Learning, 30 years later

2011-11-03T14:12:00.000-07:00

This morning, I read a wonderful interview that Lauren Fisher did with Maureen Tully. She unschooled her children back before it was widely known, so she has the benefit of looking backward on the benefits and pitfalls of this type of raising kids.

Interview here.

A few of the highlights to me:

Unschooling is “a person — of any age — learning goodness, cultural literacy, mercy and wisdom from the process of growing in a rich family and social environment.”

I admired her candour in advocating a certain level of boundaries within the “radical unschooling” mindset. “Being graziers, making our living out from beef and wool, as well as having dogs, cats, peafowl, chooks, etc., we understand critters and came to understand children. We believe that without a loving home, parents who love and respect one another, and a climate where children are guided to have love, mercy and respect for their parents and siblings, that parents gradually lose control of their family, and their children end up holding them in contempt. It’s so sad to see the hopes and dreams of the parents fade into the misery of loss and emotional distance, and the children become harsh and demonstrate entitlement.
“There must be a leader, and if not, the children will assume the role. And without life experience and much mercy, they will be unkind. We’ve seen hundreds of families go down this path. It’s heartbreaking after seeing their high hopes. No boundaries is a ‘vain philosophy’, and isn’t the norm in any culture for a very good reason,” Maureen is adamant.
At the same time, Maureen thinks that unschooling has a few natural pre-conditions in order to succeed. “It works only where love and delight in learning is the natural way the parents live,” she says. “And the parent must truly want to grow and learn and mature, and be ready and confident to guide their children in that path. It won’t work if you are a house divided and if you’re putting on an act for the church and your friends. Children know — they always ‘suss’ hypocritical parents and soon despise them.”

Anyone seriously interested in unschooling will want to read the whole interview. I found it tremendously helpful and encouraging.

Getting to Know You

2011-11-01T16:27:00.000-07:00

Two little minute-long videos came to my inbox this morning, little sideways videos of Abi sitting in the sunshine far away in Ethiopia. In one, the nannies are talking to her, saying musical Amharic words that I almost recognize, but frustratingly don't quite know what they mean. In the second one, she is sitting on a curb, with palm trees behind her, singing a little song. I remember those trees, and the safe, enclosed courtyard in which she sat. I remember the warm, baked red bricks, and the strings of laundry drying in the sun.

My kids watch the little videos over and over, absorbing the unfamiliar words, taking in the details of their new little sister. They ask if she likes purple, the color of her shirt. They clap along with her little song and ask me when she is coming to live with us. They intently observe her hands, her eyes, her smile, her pants with the bunnies on them.In two months, she will come here and they will all sing songs together.

Until then, we wait for her and watch a little sideways video together.

Pumpkins, Puppies and a Dragon

2011-10-31T21:15:00.000-07:00

This Kid

2011-10-31T09:37:00.000-07:00

This kid can totally ruin my day when he wakes up at 5am whining about something, and then I can't get back to sleep. I woke up this morning so cranky, I think my family would happily dress me up as the Wicked Witch for Halloween.

But then, this same kid, can totally redeem my day when we are up and going and he sits and plays in the patches of sunshine on the living room carpet. He "reads" books, and pretends a block is a choo-choo train, and tells me all about what he is thinking in his happy baby chatter... and I suddenly feel like everything is all right with the world after all.

Parking and Walking

2011-10-29T22:49:00.001-07:00

I forgot to mention that our first experience while in Addis Ababa was Sunday, October 16. We had to walk about five blocks to our car in the morning because the streets were closed for the Great Ethiopian Run. I was delighted, and it was the only time during our whole trip that we got to walk anywhere.

Toothless

2011-10-29T20:04:00.000-07:00

For Curly's costume this year, my friend and fellow homeschool mom, Jennifer, who also makes fabulous costumes, designed a Toothless costume for us! All year, Curly has been in love with How to Train Your Dragon, but finding a Toothless costume proved to be impossible. I knew, with our Africa trip, that I wouldn't be able to make one, so Jennifer kindly stepped in. She brought it up yesterday, and tonight, I added a couple of little details that Curly insisted it needed: a saddle, and the brown half-tail on one side.

More thoughts on Ethiopia

2011-10-28T10:15:00.000-07:00

While I have been sleeping all week and trying to recover from jet lag, a cold and a really nasty migraine, Hubby has been blogging up a storm about Ethiopia. His thoughts are organized more by topic, and involve quite a bit more reflection and commentary than mine did. They are well worth a read.

Ethiopia Journal: Preface
Ethiopia Journal: Quick Observations
Ethiopia Journal: Concerning Names
Ethiopia Journal: Coffee
Ethiopia Journal: Addresses
Ethiopia Journal:The Court Room
Ethiopia Journal: Religious Tensions
Ethiopia Journal: The Orphanage
Ethiopia Journal: Churches
Ethiopia Journal: Time Warp
Ethiopia Journal: Winding Down
Ethiopia Journal: Epilogue

Little Mister's Fifth Birthday

2011-10-26T20:50:00.000-07:00

Little Mister turned five the day we got back from Ethiopia, and Mom had a lovely little party ready for us, at my request. I knew we'd be exhausted, but I still wanted him to have his special day.

The cake had five candles PLUS a five-shaped candle. Curly pointed out that it was actually SIX candles, which just made Mister happier.

Everyone tries a puzzle that we brought back from Africa.

Mister got a Cars 2 video game. Bean was eying the wrapping paper.

This was right before Daddy fell asleep on the couch.

When all was said and done, Mister had a wonderful birthday and successfully turned five. I'm glad, because Five is the first birthday I remember, and I wanted his to be a good one.

Confessions of a Jetlagged, Hormonal, Crazy Person

2011-10-23T11:52:00.000-07:00

I hit an all-time low this morning. I actually burst into tears because I could not find the brown sugar. Tragedy in the extreme, I know.

You see, today is Hubby's birthday. (Happy Birthday, hon!) He's 30 today, a big milestone. I had visions of candlelit dinners, of gifts and jokes and making much of him. Instead, he gets a houseful of screaming kids, a pile of dirty dishes, and a wife whose hair looks like Oscar the Grouch, and who is standing in the kitchen sobbing because the brown sugar isn't put away in the right spot.

Happy Birthday, hon.

Okay, note to self: Jetlag is real. I don't think I believed it before. Also, I am not talented at overcoming it, by using any of the normal techniques like drinking water or powering through a 22-hour day so I can sleep the next night. No, I stayed up all night last night, alternately trying to sleep and watching Season 2 episodes of Friday Night Lights.

Now, this morning, I'm trying to see past the sandy dry eyes and migraine-distorted vision, and wandering around making such pithy comments as "Wow, hon, the coffee you made is really bad."

Happy Birthday, by the way.

And, oh yeah, it's not morning any more, is it?

What day is it again?

What's my name again?

I think it might be someone's birthday today, but I'm honestly not sure. Whoever it is, I hope it's a good birthday. I'm going to go back to bed.

Ethiopia Trip Journal

2011-10-22T17:38:00.000-07:00

While we were in Ethiopia last week, I kept a brief journal of my thoughts and impressions while there. Now, it gives a glimpse into our trip, and will provide memories for us later. I inserted a few pictures, but we did not take many. We were asked not to photograph the other orphans at the orphanage, and were told that photographing people on the street is offensive, although I had one lady offer to pose for a picture if I paid her.

Please pardon any typos, as I typed this whole thing on my iPod Touch, which has a very fussy Autocorrect, ans much of it was done in the middle of the night!

Oct 14 3:05pm
On flight from Seattle to Amsterdam. Surprised how much I'm enjoying myself. Flying is much, much easier without small children, which is how I flew the last three times.

Matt and I listened to a short audio book about the history of the English language. In Spokane, we ran into a group headed to Ethiopia for a mission trip. At first we were excited, but initial conversation proved to be a bit disappointing. The guy we talked to had so much BTDT attitude, he was kind of a bore.

Now, we're two hours into first long flight. I'm really doing better than I expected. Matt seems quiet though. Not sure what he is thinking.

Oct 14 6:46pm/3:46am Amsterdam
Plane dark. Sky dark. They just served a mini sandwich as a snack, which is nice since I was hungry. Trying to read a book but instead feeling bored, miserable and restless.

Oct 15 7:00 pm/Oct 16 5:00am
KVI Guesthouse
The second plane ride from Amsterdam to Addis was much better and I slept for most of it. We had a little trouble finding our shuttle driver at the airport, but at last we connected with him, an older man named Solomon. We were helped out quite a bit by other couples traveling to court, and by the ministry team. Without their guidance, we would have felt very lost in the airport here, but as it was we had no trouble.

Our guesthouse room reminds me of the Wallace complex dorms in college. It is bare, but clean, and to lie flat on a bed felt heavenly. When the night receptionist asked if it was okay, I made a bit of a fuss over how great it was, because I'm guessing that by Ethiopian standards it's really fancy. It also has a western-style toilet, which makes me very glad, since the one at the airport was quite different and had no seat.

So far, my biggest trouble with the time change is not sleeping, but feeling hungry at the wrong times. Thank goodness for the trail mix and granola bars we brought.

Oct 16 9:00 am Addis time
Sun is shining, breakfast was delicious. The cook here does American food, with a bit of an Ethiopian twist, so the scrambled eggs had bits of red and green peppers in them. I' m feeling quite optimistic and eager for what the day holds.

Oct 16 6:08 pm
Meeting Abi for the first time felt all at once emotional and anti-climactic. She is beautiful, of course, and so smart! They had her count and sing a little Bible song. She loves to play imaginative games. With some plastic blocks, she served us boona (coffee) and kolo (roasted barley snacks). We played with her and the other kids in the toddler room for an hour and a half or so until we got hungry.

Abi's bed. Still not allowed to post pictures of her online yet. Trust me, she is beautiful :)

For lunch, I had doro wat and injera for the first time. It was okay, but not as tasty as Matt's curry. For the afternoon, we wimped out and took a nap. I'm feeling overwhelmed and homesick and frustrated that in order to keep my blood sugar happy, I have to eat double the calories that I should and I'll likely gain ten pounds this week. Then, I'm annoyed at myself for finding something to be unhappy about. Wish I could just relax, but everything seems so unfamiliar.

As far as the city goes, it looks just like the pictures. Shacks of bits of corrugated tin everywhere, and street vendors line the roads. Cars drive as haphazardly as we'd been told they did, and goats wander around in the streets. Somehow, I feel unsurprised by it all. There is a sense of peace here, of belonging, that I don't feel in the bustle of an American city. I like Addis very much.

Oct 17 4:49 am
Once again, awake at 4:30 and there is no going back to sleep. I feel like I sleep with one foot in each time zone. Five hours at night, and five hours in the afternoon. Peculiar, but it's working.

Laying here in the dark thinking about Ethiopia and Abi, I noticed a few striking things. Compared to American culture, Ethiopian culture uses very little eye contact. It's not just with us, either. They don't make eye contact with one another. I love it, since I have always felt the American way to be much too aggressive.

All this time, I have been pronouncing Abi like Ah-bee. While that's a closer guess than Abby, the way they actually say it is Ah-bay. Her whole name is most like Ah-bay-bitch, oddly enough. Not sure how that is going to go when she meets the other kids, who are pretty set in calling her Ah-bee.

There are so many things I could say about her from our first meeting, I hardly know where to start. Someone had taught her to say thank you and you're welcome in English, and she was insistent that we say it that way, rather than using our stumbling Amharic. She bossed the social worker similarly, which made me laugh. She is going to have no trouble holding her own among my little crew.

I don't feel particularly nervous about the court visit, although from the way everyone keeps reassuring me, I guess most people are. I'm a little nervous about visiting the orphanage again. Of course I want to see Abi, but being in that toddler room with ten little kids mobbing me and nowhere to sit but the floor was exhausting. Too many years of doing nursery and daycares, but I really don't care for packs of three-year-olds. I guess I'll live; it's just not my favorite thing. I hope we can tour the facility on one of these visits and not just stay in the toddler room.

Oct 17 9:50 am
Been in the waiting room for an hour now. Hard to describe what a strange atmosphere this fourth-floor room contains with broken chairs and standing people. American couples perch awkwardly while Ethiopians smile, bump shoulders. Everyone chats beneath the frowning sign that says "Silent." Oops, it's our turn to go into the judge's chambers.

Oct 17 12:35pm
Sweetest words: If you want her, you may have her. She is yours.

Oct 17 3:57pm
In the guesthouse living room, we attended a coffee ceremony to bid farewell to another family who had been staying here. The woman roasting the coffee, a tattoo marking her jawline, stirred the browning beans in the ancient traditional method, beside a television which showed a scripted wrestling program featuring a body builder named Seamus. Sitting in the little green Bumbo chair, 10-month old Yabsira watched the incense curl toward the ceiling, unaware that she was soon to become a Canadian citizen named Sabrina. Her excited parents bundled her into a front pack, and fussed their way out the door toward the airport and a 20 hour plane ride back to Toronto.

Our second visit with Abi this morning went even better than yesterday. She warmed up right away, giving us kisses and whispering into our ears a request in Amharic for Daddy to stand up and play games with her. We toured the orphanage, taking in the two baby rooms with a total of sixteen infants, twelve toddlers, eight preschoolers, and ten school-aged children. The toddlers ate lunch after carefully washing each pair of small hands, a bowl full of thick stew that every child hungrily ate, molding it between their fingers.

We found out last night that we have recently received our MOWA comment, and with the judge's favorable statement at court, I have hopes that the rest of the process will be smooth sailing until we can get her home.

I hope we can make her transition easier, cooking some Ethiopian dishes, and remembering Amharic words like "qonjo" (beautiful) and "gobez" (clever) that the nurses say to the children all of the time. For the limited resources they have to work with, I can't believe how much They have taught the children, and how well-behaved they are.

Oct 18 4:06am
Once again, can't sleep in the middle of the night. I took something, and also killed a giant mosquito that has bitten my pinky finger twice. So things are looking up.

Feeling much more blue last night and today. Being a tourist doesn't suit me much. Matt is disappointed, I think, that I am not more eager to go see the sights. He has plans to go visit an Orthodox church early this morning, but I plan to sleep instead.

Oct 18 7:33am
We have three more days to visit Abi. I have been dreading that last day and saying goodbye all year long. Leaving her here goes against every parental instinct inside me. Still, eight weeks suddenly does not seem so long in the grand scheme of things, especially as I watched another family together here. It reassures me that it will happen. Also, meeting Abi reassures me too. She is such an amazing person, and doing so well, despite all of the odds. She is tough, that one. She is going to be just fine.

Oct 18 10:24am
It's odd, packing my day-bag to go out, I pack a water bottle, toilet paper, hand sanitizer, trail mix, and then the usual stuff like money, Chapstick, and chewing gum.

On the news, the story of Kenyan military going into Somalia suddenly means much more, taking place only a few short hundred miles away, rather than a distant, disconnected continent.

The first thing I notice when waking up is the distinct smell of the city, the smell of four million people, open sewers, and exotic spices. It's not a strong or unpleasant smell, as I would have expected, just different, and a constant reminder that I am far from home.

Oct 18 4:31 pm
Visit with Abi did not go well today. She was moody and tired, and refused to hug us or play with us at all.

After visiting her, we stopped by another orphanage to see it, then ate lunch at a cafe with wifi. I was in heaven. I've really missed the easy access to Internet that I enjoy at home. We made a quick stop at the Illien office to make some photocopies, and Tseday discussed the possibility of an escort for Abi so we don't have to miss work and the kids for such a long time again.

Then, we went to the National Museum. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but to say I was blown away would be an understatement. There were archaeological finds, including the most intact prehistoric human, "Lucy" as well as ancient art, tools, and the costumes of the emperors. All of it showed such a wonderful culture, and unfathomably old to this young American.

We saw a few blind people walking along the street, but Yosef (our driver and unofficial guide) did not have much useful information to tell me about them, other than the fact that they studied Amharic Braille in school.

Oct 19 4:17 am
Last night, Matt had an adventure of sorts. He had gone out with Yosef to get "tekaway" dinner and bring it back. He left at 7:00 and did not return until 9:30. Luckily, I had fallen asleep, or I would have been worried. He said Yosef's rental car had died. It had been threatening to do so all day, and now had finally done it. They'd had some men from the street help them push it to a location with better light, so Yosef could take a look under the hood. When this turned out to be unsuccessful, he called the rental company, but they were not going to be able to deliver a new car right away. So, he called an Illien staff member, who picked Matt up in her own personal car and brought him back to the guesthouse. Since the rental car company provides 1980's Toyotas, this is the third time one of them would not start. Perhaps for this reason, Yosef has aspirations toward becoming a mechanic, although for now, his classes at the trade school are on hold because he has so much driving work.

Oct 20 7:00 am
Finally, on our last night, I slept all night. Now it's time to go back to Pacific Time.

Wow, yesterday was so long and packed full of stuff, I don't know how to write about all of it, but I'll give it a shot.

First, we went to Kaldi's Coffee, a Starbuck's knockoff. The coffee is amazing here, so cheap and good. Yosef explained the separate fasting menu for Orthodox customers, and Matt looked at the roast on their beans. They tried to sell us bags of beans, and did manage to talk us into buying a T-shirt for charity. Yosef also took us to a little drug store where I could buy anti-itch cream for the 30+ mosquito bites I have acquired this week. Apparently Ethiopian mosquitos like me as much as American ones do, and I am just as allergic to them. Good thing I'm taking malaria pills, just in case.

Next, we headed to KVI Orphanage to visit Abi. She had a cold, and would have absolutely nothing to do with us. They tried to coax her and give her candy, but she just whimpered. It was heartbreaking, and made even harder by the fact that the nannies spoke almost no English, and seemed to think we thought that she was being "bad." They kept scolding and coaxing her little limp self to come talk to us, which of course made things worse. We finally left, and I was quite upset.

At lunch at the Lime Tree (the place that had wifi, only it was overloaded and didn't work), Matt had the idea to call Huet, the social worker we met on Day 1 who spoke better English. Yosef put in a call for us, and she agreed to meet us at 3:00 at the orphanage to find out what was wrong.

We had an hour, so we stopped at a corner Supermarket to buy peanuts, then toured an Orthodox church. It was absolutely gorgeous, and the biggest cathedral I had ever been in. I didn't take pictures, partly because it cost extra to do so, and partly because I am sure pictures exist on the Internet somewhere.

We picked up Huet, and on the way to the orphanage, I asked her as many questions as I could think of regarding Abi's behavior, child grief and bonding. Every answer she gave was well-informed and lined up with my own instincts, so I felt hugely reassured. We saw Abi, who again whimpered in a corner, but this time we did not really try to interact with her. Huet talked to her, and to the nannies, and reassured them that we were really happy with Abi just the way she was. With Huet to translate, the nannies were able to brag on Abi a bit, and said she counted to 100. I think when I get home, I'll teach the other kids to count in Amharic too.

We had an hour and a half to rest at the guesthouse, and then we headed off again to "You Go City Church," the first location that was really my request. It was a very typical Charismatic church service, and even though it was entirely in Amharic, it felt really good to be there among the worshipers. We were about the only white people in a crowd of several thousand, which ended up not to bother us at all. I felt quite comfortable, and if it hadn't been for the language, I would have thought I was in a church back home.

Lastly, we went to dinner and Matt and I split a beef and rice dish that was quite tasty. Meals are always an opportunity to ask Yosef a thousand questions about life in Addis. We found out that his job driving, although we pay him $40 a day, he only gets to take home about $2.75 a day. The car rental place gets the rest.

On the way home, we talked about how many Amharic words we've learned in just a week. Matt and I laughed that it was pure survival, since so few people spoke English, or at least more English than "shoe shine?" We flopped into bed about 10:00, absolutely worn out.

Oct 20 7:41am
A couple of interesting observations.

The men I had originally thought were loitering outside many of the buildings and shops turned out to be guards. They watch the building, and keep thieves away from cars and guests.

Everything is really clean here. People take pride in clean clothes, clean floors etc. Most things are shabby and broken, but not dirty. Our guest room in particular, was spotless.

Kids are dressed warmly. School uniforms usually include a sweater, green or navy or gray. The orphans are dressed in several layers. Since the weather is warm, and rooms can get very warm, I am not sure why this is. I'll bear it in mind if Abi gets chilly though.

The elevation hasn't bothered us much. Although we're at 8,500 feet, we haven't noticed any problems, except maybe getting a bit winded when climbing stairs.

Oct 20 4:51am ET/Oct 19 6:51pm ID
On the plane flying somewhere above Greece, according to the map. I slept for about 5 hours, which felt lovely, but Matt did not, and he looked pretty rugged, so I gave him my window seat and pillow for a while.

Again for yesterday, I didn't have any time to journal, but I figured that hours on the plane would fix that. First, though, a couple of comments on the present. I ate a pepperoni sandwich that had gotten cold, and I must have been hungry, because it tasted pretty good. Also, there are three families bringing home adopted kids. One is a dad from France with a 3yo boy. I haven't heard a peep from him. Then, there is a couple from PA who have a 2yo girl. They were the first white people I've talked to all week, and after the easy warmth of the Ethiopians, they seemed terribly cold and aloof. Lastly, there is a mother traveling by herself with a baby, somewhere slightly less than two who has cried almost continuously since the airport. She has tried everything she can think of to sooth her, and I feel sorry for her; she must be so frazzled.

But anyway, I need to go back to yesterday, our last day in Addis. We got up slowly, after finally sleeping a full night through. The irony of that still makes me smile. After the usual delicious breakfast at the guesthouse, including eggs with extremely dark yellow yolks, I checked my email, hoping Mom had given me a tidbit about the kids. I've only heard from her once this week, and it feels a bit like being in exile.

Yosef picked us up at 9:30, and we went to Kaldi's Coffee, where Matt talked the staff into letting him watch the espresso shot and the milk steaming. We also observed the delivery of milk in old-fashioned metal jugs, much to our surprise.

Next, we headed to KVI Orphanage, where I didn't hold out much hope that Abi would be responsive, since the last two days had gone so badly. But the prayers of all of our friends back home reminded us that this whole experience was guided by God. A Christian ministry team from NY happened to be visiting. They gathered the kids and sang songs, told a story, and said a prayer over the kids. The whole time, Abi was alternately grumpy and fascinated, but allowed me to sit next to her with cuddly little American on my lap. The whole thing was so unbelievably sweet, as we sang "Jesus' Love is a-bubblin' over" and other camp songs.

Next, we were invited to witness the going-away ceremony for another of the orphans, a little girl about 7yo. She got to dress in a fancy traditional dress, and they had a little coffee ceremony (using juice) and said many prayers and blessings over her. An aged aunt was present; both she and the little girl looked miserable at parting, maybe forever.

At this point, Abi was due for lunch and a nap, so we left. We had said goodbye to her, and told her we loved her and would see her again in two months. I cried, but did not feel as desolate as I expected, partly because of the amazing sense of blessing and peace imparted by the ministry team.

At this point, it was 12:30 and we were all hungry. Yosef took us to a new restaurant on the top floor of a building with a view of the city. We had a leisurely lunch, but Yosef paid for it with a parking ticket for staying too long.

We could not decide if we had enough time for another stop, this time to Masrich, a sheltered workshop for blind people. We decided we did, and briefly toured the building that acted as a school, a workshop, and also a giftshop and optical shop where the goods made by the blind workers were sold.

Then, back at the KVI guesthouse, we were treated to a real, full-blown coffee ceremony of our own to say goodbye. In true leisurely Ethiopian style, we hung around playing Mancala and chatting. We packed up, and headed to Amsterdam restaurant, where we tried Yosef's favorite dish of chicken curry. It tasted fabulous, of course. I also discovered the first comfortable chair in Ethiopia, and joked that I was going to take it with me.

We arrived at the airport about 7:15pm, the prescribed 3 hours early, and began the long process of waiting on lines and going through security.

I enjoyed having wifi in the airport, and soon we were beginning the long journey home.

Whenever people go to foreign countries, they come back gushing, and saying how life-changing the experience was. Then a few weeks later, they seem to settle into life as usual, and their petty problems and little complaints settle back over them like Eeyore's rain cloud. I'm not sure that I can say that Ethiopia changed me like that. True, I loved Addis like I never love cities. With Yosef spoiling us and bossing us, I felt totally safe the whole time. We did not get sick at all, and we loved all of the fascinating sights. Most of all, I enjoyed the laid-back, unhurried accepting attitude. I felt the whole time as though I was hanging out at a good friend's house where I was totally welcome and nobody had to try to impress anyone else. I'll certainly miss that part of it. I'll miss Yosef, who became a good friend.

I think what has changed is the realization that I can do something to help, that a little goes a long ways. I have come to love this country and these people in a way that has moved from being academic to personal.

We got home for Little Mister's birthday, and his gift from us was a traditional Ethiopian outfit. We were thrilled to see the kids, but so tired, we went to bed early, grateful for a friend who stayed to help with the kids for one more night.

Here We Go!

2011-10-14T05:21:00.001-07:00

Bean woke up at 4:30, and I doubt I'll be going back to sleep. Today is the day! We leave for Africa in a little over an hour.

From my perspective on this front end of the trip, I'm afraid I'm bring uncharacteristically pessimistic. I see a long flight, a few short days, meeting my precious girlie, only to have to leave her again. I'm scared that I won't be strong enough for all this.

Still, it's undeniably an adventure. Africa has always been so remote; it exists for me in the pages of National Geographic, read at night in the musty basement bedroom of my grandparents' house. I'm still quite shocked that I am actually going there.

En Pointe

2011-10-11T13:52:00.000-07:00

Too bad male dancers don't dance en pointe. Bean has the technique down already.

Homecoming Parade

2011-10-08T18:54:00.000-07:00

Our family walked downtown through the crisp autumn sunshine this morning to watch the Homecoming Parade that the University puts on every year. For the friends who live overseas and may not know what such an event entails, I have included perhaps more pictures than usual.

Our family, ready to walk downtown. We did our best to wear the school colors, black and gold. Go Vandals!

We ran into some friends from church, and stood next to them to watch the parade. Because we got there early, we had some time to chat before the parade began.

Little Mister, eagerly looking for the parade to begin.

Curly took a turn riding on Daddy's shoulder, so she could see down the street to see if anyone was coming yet.

The main street of out little town was lined with spectators, waiting for the parade to begin.

While she waited, Curly amused herself with perching atop a red fire hydrant.

Little Mister, riding high on Daddy's shoulders, was the first one to see the motorcycle police who led the parade.

Watching the marching band always gives me a bit of nostalgia, as I played in it for six years, during college, and after Hubby and I got married while he was in school.

Bean watched with wonder as all of the oddities passed by.

Mules pulled an old-fashioned plow, and I think the town's mayor was riding, but I could be mistaken.

The community beginning marching band gets a little help with the heavy drums.

Many of the entries included people tossing candy to the children who lined the street. My Goombas scrambled to pick up as much as they could (several pounds, when we got it all home and divvied up).

The firefighters waved and blew their loud sirens and horns!

Smokey the Bear made an appearance, riding atop the biggest fire engine. He's been an American icon for well over 50 years.

Our town is proud of the volunteer fire department, as well as the rural volunteer fire fighters.

Alternative fuels are one of the research interests of our university, and this car has been outfitted to run solely on Biodiesel.

The UI Combine.

Kids watch the Shriners car and laugh at the little horn (ah-ooga!).

One of the firefighters came through the crowd with a Dalmation dog, who had been trained to allow children to pet him.

Someone dressed as a die came strolling along, handing out candy. You never know what you'll see.

I am not entirely sure what these frightening characters were supposed to represent, especially as they were on an American Cancer Society float. I guess I'll leave you to draw your own conclusions.

Next came the Polo Club, dressed in Vandal colors.

This float advertised the Lentil Festival, which takes place every year in August.

Bean gives approval on the parade, which lasted about an hour, and on his sucker. I would have liked to go to the Homecoming football game this afternoon, but Bean needed a nap, and we didn't want to pay the ticket prices if we would have to leave early anyway. Maybe in a few years we'll go.

Child-Led Learning FAQ

2011-10-06T14:05:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking about writing a post like this for quite some time, since I often have people ask me what child-led homeschooling looks like. Of course, I can only tell you what it looks like in our family, and I can share our philosophy and what works for us. I've come by this philosophy by combining quite a few different sources and resources, a sampling of which I have listed at the bottom of the post.

I've decided to approach this topic by answering some of the most common questions.

What exactly IS child-led learning?

Child-Led Learning, in a nutshell, is just that. It's allowing the learner to choose the subject, pacing, depth and timing of the learning. Although this is utilized a little bit in institutional schools, it works best in a setting where the entire educational system can be tailored to use this model, on an ongoing and individual basis, not just used "for a few weeks" during vacation or whatever.

It means that we take the things that the kids show an interest in, and explore those things. As a parent, I am BY NO MEANS disconnected from this process. I am absolutely involved in every aspect, from collecting materials that I think will interest them and "sprinkling" them around the house to be "discovered" (sneaky, I know!) to involving the kids in conversations that discuss their chosen topics, to assisting them in researching their topic using books or computers or other experts in the community. I provide materials such as paper and markers to encourage writing about the topic, and books to read. I look up videos on Netflix or at the rental store. Together we look up things on Google Earth, or other internet sites. We do crafts, and take field trips, and do tons of play dates with friends, or join co-ops or other groups.

For example, right now, the kids are fascinated with Orcas. I think this interest came from finding a stuffed Killer Whale at Brused Books the other day. They absolutely consume any information I can give them about whales, from the types, to the anatomy, and the fact that they are mammals, to marine life, to math that explores the size and weight of whales, to videos about whales, to dramatic stories involving whales.

Although I suggest activities or books, I don't usually require any of the materials be utilized, but wait for the child to choose to use that resource. They usually welcome my input, however, and we have not clashed much over this. I think they view Hubby and me as a resource, because their endless questions result in us either sharing our knowledge or looking up the information requested, and we learn together.

What if you skip something vital? How can kids possibly know everything they ought to learn?

Of course, young children don't know everything they ought to learn in order to be an educated adult. This style of learning does not assume that they do. Rather, as the adult who DOES know the academic direction we are headed, I work with them to head in that direction. Instead of an arbitrary schedule of items that they ought to learn, I allow us the flexibility to approach topics as they interest the kids. Skills like handwriting, math, or reading that build upon previous skill levels, we work within the level that they can accomplish, and continue building their skills as we go along.

The idea is, to practice handwriting, they can write about Orcas, which they are quite willing to do, or write about the arbitrary subject on page 20 of the workbook, something they are not so keen on doing. Which one of these results in more handwriting practice, more learning, and more success? You guessed it! This is just an example, but it is fairly representative of how we approach every subject, be it science, math, reading, history, geography or any other "schooly" or "non-schooly" subject.

How can you be sure they are learning what they need to learn?

The real key to answering this question lies in observation. If I change my role from one of controller to one of observer, I take the time to notice the learning that is happening all the time. Things that may not seem to be learning at first glance can really be the most meaningful experiences of all. For example, a video game may look like only entertainment, but when a beginning reader suddenly accurately reads a paragraph-long caption within the game, I realized that a significant learning milestone had been reached.

I keep a private learning blog where I record observations of learning, categorized in various academic subjects. Using this, I can go back and compare a skill level with previous months and see the advancement. With careful observation, there is no need to test the kids, because I am acutely aware of where their skill levels are, and what skills they are lacking or need to practice more.

What if kids only want to watch TV all day?

If given an ongoing choice, kids will naturally gravitate to a variety of activities. As a public schoolteacher, I did not observe this in schooled children, as they were seldom given a choice of how to use their time. When they did have a precious few minutes to choose their own activities, they naturally chose the most relaxing and entertaining activity, because they were tired. My kids, on the other hand, are allowed to choose 90% of their daily activities. They do choose to watch TV or play video games to some degree, but they quickly tire of these activities, and want something more mentally challenging, since they have not had a day of adhering to other schedules.

How will kids learn to do a job they dislike in the future?

I hear this objection quite a bit. Kids must learn that the world is a grim place, and going through hell in school "toughens them up" to deal with a world full of jobs they hate. Dealing with boredom, tedium, bullies and failure are all necessary parts of a complete education.

The trouble with this thinking is that it adheres to a misunderstanding of how the world really works, I think. People do jobs that they dislike, not from practice in doing so, but from a motivation that extends beyond the job itself to an outcome they desire. For example, we do the dishes, not from an inherent love of washing old food off flatware, but from a desire to eat off clean plates the next day. Enduring failure and bullies seems to me to harm children's self-image rather than make them tougher, and the people who do best in the "system" are those who are confident. In general, to become confident, a child needs to accumulate experiences of success rather than failure. Children tend to be able to sniff out false "successes" that are invented by teachers to boost self-esteem, while the "real" success of accomplishing a difficult task, especially one that has been self-assigned and carried out, will resonate far into the future.

In my experience, work-ethic is better built by learning to enjoy the job that you must do, rather than being forced to do a job that you hate doing, and by long practice, merely suffer through. Teaching my kids to have a good attitude and make jobs like household chores or drilling math fun will give them the tools they'll need in the future to tackle other jobs that need doing. Learning to have a servant's heart in our family will help them to serve others in the community and the world as adults.

As a Christian, don't you believe in "training up your children"?

Of course I do! I hope you can see from some of the above explanations that this style of learning is not at all neglecting a child's training, or leaving a child uneducated, but it is a method of learning together with a child so that the learning is enjoyable and productive for both the teacher and the learner.

Don't they take a mile if you give up so much control?

Children are energetic. They surge forward, wanting more, wanting to grow, wanting to learn and to do and to create. In our family, the adult, acting as a guide, is still very much in control. Some of the "radical unschoolers" might disagree that their family isn't that way, but I don't see this kind of learning as actually giving up control at all. Rather, I direct the energy, the enthusiasm and the activity into productive lines. The energy that I would have spent fighting to get them interested in what I want them to learn is instead used to find resources and observe the learning that is already taking place.

The kids in our house do not by any means have carte blanche. They cannot ask to go to 47 different activities in a week; I simply don't have the energy or the money. They aren't allowed to watch 120 hours of television or videos in a week, if they did get it into their heads to do so. They are expected to use good manners and respect other family members, and to contribute to the workload of the family. On the rare occasion that I ask them to do a workbook page or some math flashcards, they are expected to do so without complaining.

I think of it as a reversal of the 80-20 principle. In school, 80% of what you do is determined by someone else, and may not be meaningful to you. 20% is something you enjoy and would choose to do, given the choice. In our school, we simply reverse that. 80% of what my kids learn is chosen by them, and 20% is something determined by the needs of the family, or something I deliberately guide them to do.

How will kids learn to work in a group if all their learning is individualized?

Contrary to popular stereotypes, homeschoolers aren't isolated. My kids learn in groups at Homeschool Co-op, on field trips, at the park, in Sunday School, and wherever else they encounter other humans. Still, this information seems not to satisfy some people, so I'll answer this question in another way.

The skills needed for functioning productively in a group are as follows: The ability to provide your part of the assignment or information, which includes the skills to find and present new information; the social and communication skills to interact with other group members; the work ethic to pull your share of the project; and the tact and patience to put up with other personalities and the inevitable freeloaders. As a healthy school-at-home system, children ought to be learning these skills just to function as a member of a family. Learning manners, doing chores, having to share and take turns, good communication, patience and tact and grace... all of these skills get practiced over and over in the home. In my observation, homeschooled kids actually learn these skills better than many "socialized" kids, and the group work that I have observed within combinations of homeschoolers tends to be quite a bit more gracious and productive than that of kids who are taught "group skills" in many classrooms.

Is this type of learning terribly disorganized?

Absolutely, and delightfully so! Learning is by nature messy, and the path tangled. We don't get there by straight lines or nice, tidy slopes. The important thing is that we get there. To me, learning is about the journey. It's not a competition for getting onto Jeopardy, but it's about having the confidence, the knowledge, the self-discipline and work ethic to contribute to society as an adult.

One thing I do to keep us somewhat on track is: each semester I look up a list of curriculum standards for each grade. Together with each child, I go over what kids in their grade are expected to know and be able to do. We talk about how well they can do the tasks or know the material, and we work out, loosely for now, and more in depth in the coming years, a plan for getting everything accomplished. In this way, I give them ownership of their learning and they see more of the big picture, which helps tremendously in motivating them to do things like handwriting, which is not their favorite subject.

Isn't it a lot of work to find all of your own resources?

Like I teach my kids that a burden is light when you find a way to make it fun, so I approach schooling my kids. Paging through catalogues and going to curriculum conferences seems to me like so much drudgery, and so overwhelming, but looking up books about Orcas at the Science Center, or watching a movie about whales turns out to be as much fun for me as it is for them! So, is it a lot of work? I guess it is, but it's a lot of fun as well. When their eyes light up at the gift of a new book from the used bookstore, or when the light bulb comes on after a conversation about multiplication of fives and how it relates to the clock, it doesn't seem like work at all. There's nothing on earth I'd rather be doing.

What are some of the benefits of using this type of teaching?

Like anything in life, success and pleasure creates a desire to continue doing the activity that brought the pleasurable feeling of accomplishment. A baby learns to walk, not just because its parents praise it, but for the intrinsic joy of being able to do something new.

Success in learning results in enjoying the process of learning, and the desire to learn more things. When a child is allowed to learn at her own pace and in her own style, the child is more likely to have success in the endeavor. Then, the child is more likely to want to learn something else, which, if successful, will lead to more learning.

There is also a culture of enjoying learning. In our house, no one told the kids that "math is hard" or "history is boring" or "reading is icky." In our house, math is interesting, because zeros are a joke, and nines are tricky. Algebra means playing with the swing-arm balance. History is full of stories and drama, and pathos, and good guys and bad guys. Reading is a magical world of words come to life.

Another big benefit to this type of teaching is efficiency. Because each child is able to tailor his or her learning exactly to his or own skill level, and because each child is motivated by his or her interest and involvement, there is almost no need for re-teaching. Review happens naturally, and is just utilized enough for the material to be mastered. Unlike a classroom setting, the kids don't have to wait for other classmates to catch up, nor do they need to struggle with a concept they don't understand after the class has moved on to something harder. Each concept can be wholly mastered, and once it is, the child can immediately move on to a new challenge, bolstered by the success of the previous achievement.

*****

There is a brief look into the method in which we "do school." We don't use a schedule, although our days fall into a natural rhythm, based mostly around the fact that we get hungry at the same times each day. Learning is not limited to school hours, and activities which are "fun" don't get discounted as learning just because they are enjoyable. Neither do activities which are "hard" shoved aside, but are look upon as a challenge, and are therefore brought into the "enjoyable" arena as well.

I'm not saying every day is a breeze! We have plenty of difficult days, and days when it seems like we are together far too much. I have plenty of moments when I question myself and wonder if the kids are really learning at all, or of they are going to grow into lazy, undisciplined adults.

Still, for the most part, this type of educating has been working fantastically well for our family. The kids love to learn, and love one another. They learn efficiently, so much so, that often I don't even realize they are learning, until they pop up with a new skill they had not previously been able to do and surprise me.

I am not criticizing families who choose to utilize a traditional school or who homeschool using a pre-written curriculum. Not at all! Rather, I am trying to show some of the intricacies of what we, as a family, have chosen to do, and why. Many families would not be comfortable using this method, and it doesn't make them inherently better or worse than us, just different.

I'm happy to report that this suits our personalities and needs remarkably well, at least for now. I do realize that we're at the beginning of our journey, with a first-grader and a preschooler, but I have read stories and talked to people who have used this method all the way through high school and into college, and quite successfully. Still, I'm open to changing in the future, and using a more structured, scheduled method, or even a school, if that is what the kids need. Right now, though, I'm thrilled with how well child-led learning is working for us.

Resources
Nurtured by Love
Yarns of the Heart
Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs
Theory of Multiple Intelligences
Christian Unschooling Group
The Language Instinct by Steven Pinker

Another Writer in the Family

2011-10-06T11:21:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, Curly, aged 6, got it into her head to write and illustrate a book. This idea did not come from me, nor did she have assistance in the effort. I will attempt to translate the text and describe the images to the best of my ability.

"The Boy and The Spaceship"

Image: Boy in rocket-shaped green spaceship set against a blue field set with round stars.

"Once upon a time, a boy named Isaac who really liked spaceships, so he went to Florida and got a spacesuit on, and went into a spaceship."

Images: Sequence. 1) map of Isaac traveling to Florida. 2) Choosing a space suit. 3) Wearing the Space suit. 4) In the space ship.

Next page.

"And the spaceship went to space, and space was very pretty. The End."

Image: Green spaceship set against a blue field with round yellow stars.

"Isaac loved the stars, but he had to go back to Earth, so he did."

Image: Isaac's spaceship standing atop the round globe-like Earth.

Now, I could wax educational with jargon like "synthesized her lessons in science, incorporated knowledge of geography, and used critical thinking, self-initiative and creativity, as well as language arts skills... utilized sequential images... blah, blah, blah." But you know what? Part of the beauty of unschooling is that I can just enjoy her story. :)

Sticker Pox

2011-10-04T11:36:00.000-07:00

At our house, we're experiencing an outbreak of a very common disease among toddlers: Sticker Pox.

Although entirely treatable, this disorder can cause extreme excitability and/or laundry problems.

While Bean has it in the worst form, it has now spread to Little Mister as well. We're hoping for the best, of course.

Decisions

2011-09-30T19:45:00.000-07:00

Parenting. Bumbling along.

At homeschool co-op today, I could not decide whether to stick Little Mister in a math class geared at his age level, where they were doing skills he had mastered a year ago, or whether to bring him into my math class for older kids, where he would be challenged academically, but where he would be expected to learn in a much more refined manner. We tried the class with the older kids, but like the 4yo unschooler he is, he wanted to build something out of the counting blocks and draw pictures on the white board. He was such a distraction that I finally walked him back across the hall where the younger math class was eating doughnuts.

Later in the evening both boys had a checkup at the Pediatrician. We talked quite a bit about the advice of the eye doctor from earlier in the week that Mister needed vision therapy. Apparently vision therapy is a bit of a suspect activity, in the category of chiropractic, that is not "proven" to do any good. (I happen to think chiropractic care is quite beneficial in some cases, and I see a chiropractor regularly.) Dr. M instead recommended that we see a pediatric ophthalmologist since Mister shows some large motor delays that seem to be linked to visual issues (my son, ya think?) Hubby and I are so conflicted on what to do with/for/about him. Should we follow the eye doctor's recommendation and pursue his pet project, the vision therapy, which, by the way, costs in the quadruple digits, and is not covered by insurance. It may or may not have any effect, but probably won't hurt anything. Should we get a second opinion, see a specialist, and see what treatment s/he recommends, if any? Should we relax and do nothing, since his vision problems don't seem to be progressive, nor are they holding him back significantly or lowering his quality of life? Should we spend a lot of time, trouble and money, and upset him only to hear there is nothing that can be done anyway? Perhaps no one will actually come forth and admit this, but will continue running us around for years, in order to collect more consultation fees?

Do I sound cynical? Sorry. Sometimes that is what the medical system seems to be doing. With a borderline mild case like mine or Mister's, I wonder if it is even worth trying to find something to treat what may end up being untreatable anyway. Of course I want to ascertain that there is not something actually wrong with his eyes, that his corneas and retinas are healthy.

Parenting seems so overwhelmingly difficult sometimes. Everyone out there is willing to add their two cents to the overload of ideas and information, and the advice conflicts. This works, this does not work. These values are important, this therapy will help, kids ought to learn this and know this and be able to do that. If they don't, they are delayed. Once Abi comes, we'll have even more of these decisions to make for her. Which specialists should she see? Which therapies will benefit her? What can I truly teach her at home, and what will I need an expert to show us?

Although I know parenting and teaching are not a race, it often feels like they are. The kid who reads at an advanced level is clearly winning, and will obviously be successful. Ironically, I was that kid, reading a newspaper fluently at age five. In the long run, everyone else seemed to catch up just fine, and I don't think it did much for me beyond helping to progress the myopia that I was already prone to, and making me feel like a failure whenever I wasn't five grade levels ahead. And now, at the end of the education rat-race, safely here in grown-up land, I would say I am pretty average. I'm not exactly a nuclear physicist or CEO of Google or finding a cure for cancer. So, when it comes to pushing my kids to excel, well, I'm not. Not that I blame my parents for pushing me; they didn't. I think they would have had to put me in a straightjacket to keep a book out of my hands.

I know I'm rambling here. It's a bit of a brain dump, really. We parents all want the very best for our children. Sometimes, though, it's not clear how well our decisions will play out in the long run. It's not clear whether we ought to seek medical intervention for Mister or not worry about it. It's not clear whether I should try to homeschool Abi. It's not clear which math class would be the best for my little math-maniac, who would prefer to eat doughnuts.

My mom's advice sounded the best: pray. And I do. I pray for wisdom constantly. We need the wisdom and guidance of the Lord to care for these precious little ones dependent upon us to teach and love them. I think the minute we're convinced that we have it all figured out is the minute we'll be proved that we're actually doing it all wrong. Instead, I guess we'll keep asking the Lord for wisdom, and continue gathering all of the information and advice that we can get, doing the best we can to make good decisions.

Bean is Two!

2011-09-29T14:36:00.001-07:00

Today, Bean turns two years old! It's hard to believe that our funny, silly, sweet, smart, crazy, exhausting, wonderful Bean is two. This morning, I taught him to say "TWO!" when someone asks him how old he is. True to form, I asked later in the day, and his answer was "Three!"

Miss A, Bean's birth mom, called this afternoon to tell him Happy Birthday and that she loves him. He had a ball talking to her on the phone and attempting to push as many buttons as he could. I was so blessed that she called. As he grows up, I think it's vital that he understand how much she loves him, and a gesture like remembering his birthday goes a long ways.

Bean's favorite part of the entire proceeding: the yellow party blowers.

Even Chewy got a hat!

Stopping at the top of the hill to look at the lights.

Stargazing.

Along the way home, we noticed an unusual number of police and flaggers. It turns out we drove up behind one of the controversial Megaloads. When we got into town, protestors and police cars lined the streets. It was kind of cool to see something in real life that has made national news in the recent weeks.

Once home again, and very late, our little birthday boy was doing his overstimulated silly routine. He drank his bottle of warm milk and crashed immediately upon being put into bed. Thus endeth Birthday Number Two.

Chore Charts

2011-09-29T14:29:00.001-07:00

Q: What is better than making chore charts for your children?

A: When they make them themselves.

P.S. Don't you love six-year-old spelling? That "laundry" kills me! I love it. It's almost going to be a bummer when she finds out how it's really spelled.

Less Than Two Weeks!

2011-09-27T11:34:00.000-07:00

We travel to Ethiopia in less than two weeks! I get to meet our little girlie!

We have been collecting things like power adapters and travel money belts. Yesterday, I spent a long 45 minutes with an overly solicitous banker setting up a travel account. Hubby bought some new headphones for the plane. We're looking at packing lists, and weather forecasts.

I'm also thinking about the three Goombas staying here with Mom for a week. This has never happened to them before; always before one or the other of us has always been with them. Every little ritual and routine and inside joke stands out in stark relief against the backdrop of leaving them for an entire week. Many times per day, I reassure myself that they will be fine, but the mother bear in me is not in the least satisfied.

My emotions swing from being afraid of the discomfort of the long flight and jetlag, to anticipating the adventure, to anticipation of meeting Abi, to dread of having to leave her again and say goodbye.

Never in a thousand years could I have guessed that someday I would be traveling across the globe to visit Africa. Such an exotic adventure was the privilege of people much wealthier than I. Other people made plans to travel to foreign continents or live in glittering cities, but I am a farm girl, planted firmly in the land, who loves to stay and grow with the changing seasons here. That God would put this trip into my own life has surprised me beyond measure.

A Day With Bean

2011-09-24T19:33:00.000-07:00

Bean and I spent the day together while Hubby took the bigger two to the Science Center. We walked downtown, both took a nap, and I did chores. For quite a while, I surfed the 'net, and Bean played with toys.

A little video, nothing unusual, but that's the beauty of it. It's a snippet of a normal day, a wonderful day, a day to remember just in its simple beauty.

First Day of School Pictures

2011-09-24T16:09:00.000-07:00

Since yesterday was the first day of Co-op, I went ahead and took their "school pictures" before we left.

Little Mister is in Pre-K, and his favorite color is blue. He loves to build things, play on the computer, and help Daddy bake yummy treats. He's picking up reading really fast, has begun learning to multiply numbers, and is taking piano lessons. He also is in a singing class. My most introverted child, he often needs time alone, and loves to think deeply.

Curly Miss is in first grade. She is reading easy chapter books, like "Nate the Great," and is working on fractions. She has added yellow to her very favorite colors. She loves art and drawing, and music, progressing quickly through Suzuki Book 2. She is almost 100% extrovert and has a talent for making friends quickly. She loves to be on the go, and to be with people.

The Bean needed to have his picture taken too, since his siblings did. He is learning his colors and letters, and he'll be two next Thursday. He learned several new words a day, and chatters a lot! He is still extremely strong and fast; I predict that he will excel at sports, although he is also bright academically and quite musical.

Art Class

2011-09-23T13:23:00.001-07:00

Homeschool Co-op has begun! Curly counted down the minutes all summer, she was so excited.

Garden Fresh

2011-09-22T13:32:00.000-07:00

Curly came home the other day from violin class with fresh garden veggies, of all things. Apparently her teacher had an excess. Each vegetable had a number drawn on it using masking tape. I guess the kids used them to play a violin game. The prize? You get to keep the veggie. Curly must have played well, because she had a whole bagful of vegetables.

Several tomatoes, an onion, and a spicy purple pepper got turned into salsa fresca. Yummy!

A pumpkin and an odd little white squash became pumpkin cream cheese muffins.

Now left in the basket are these little gems. I'm told they're called tomatillos. Now, I'll admit I have never heard of tomatillos before. What are they and what do you make with them? (Once you finish using them to play the violin, of course.)

Edited to add: Answer--you give them to a friend who knows what they are and knows how to make salsa verde out of them! She also knew to wash the sticky stuff off before you try tasting one. Oops. :)

Piano Man

2011-09-19T20:22:00.000-07:00

Little Mister has begun learning to play the piano. We found a wonderful piano teacher, who was a friend of a friend. She taught in a gentle, playful, encouraging manner that fit our family extremely well. Then, her Hubby got a job in Arizona, and she moved away!

I was so disappointed to lose her, but since we are Facebook friends, we decided to try an experiment. We continued our lessons via Skype. Every Monday night we meet up online and I set up my computer so she can see Mister's hands. He plays his songs, and she has been super pleased with his progress.

Tonight, after our lesson, she told him that he played "The Submarine" so well, it needed to be on a video on my blog! So, per instructions, here is Little Mister playing his song. Thank you so much Teacher S! We love you!

Goodbye crib

2011-09-19T12:51:00.000-07:00

He seldom reflects on the days of his life, because God keeps him occupied with gladness of heart. Ecclesiastes 5:20

Sniff.

Smile.

Sniff.

When moms bemoan the fact that their babies are growing up, and sigh over the past years, I feel alternately irritated and sympathetic. Yes, I'll miss the snuggly baby days. Yes, I love newborns. I love to smell their heads.

But I also love children who can talk, use the restroom, get their coats on, and finally, move out and have a wonderful life as adults. Every stage is beautiful, and I love each one.

But, he is my last baby.

And now he's in a big-boy bed.

Sniff.

Two Peas

2011-09-17T19:52:00.001-07:00

Curly and Bean, although nearly five years apart, share a common exuberant outlook and energetic joy that makes them unlikely comrades. In particular, they share a love of making noise, the louder the better, making music, making messes, and engaging in roughhouse play. If you had asked me two years ago which children would bond closely with one another, I doubt that I would have picked these two, my oldest and youngest. Curly, of course, loves Little Mister dearly, and they are almost constant playmates, but I have been surprised by the close bond she has also formed with Bean.

A Candid Discussion

2011-09-15T12:57:00.000-07:00

As a mom of multiracial kids, I have thought a lot about race. When we adopted, we took a bunch of training on transracial adoption, and listened to adults talk about being adopted into a family who were of another race. We listened to biracial adults talk about how they didn't feel a part of either world, one race or the other.

I've been accused of thinking from a position of "white privilege" and that I'll never truly get it. While this may be true, I find it ironic that it was a white person who told me that. I may not have wrestled with race in the past, but I have certainly wrestled with identity, and the need to fit in, to be accepted, to belong or feel like I don't belong. In discussions within the adoption community, I've been told to acknowledge race, and I've been told not to acknowledge race. I've been told that my black kids will grow up to be "Oreos" (black outside, white inside) and that they will struggle with their own racial identity. What parent likes to be told that their children will struggle, and it's going to be their fault?

I've wondered how best to give my kids a sense of their own race, of their place in our culture. One is biracial. He's descended from the proud race of black people who have lived here for hundreds of years and who have incredible spirit and identity. He's also a part of the white people who came from Europe and pushed westward across our continent. My other is African. She isn't descended from American slaves at all. She may feel even more misplaced, growing up on the "wrong" continent. How do I teach them? How can I even understand?

I remember watching "Roots" for the first time last year, holding my black baby on my chest and weeping as I imagined him in the life of the historic slaves, and feeling oh, so grateful for the civil rights movement that allowed us to adopt him in the first place, and allowed him to grow up with unlimited opportunities, as is his due. For a moment, I felt the emotions I imagine a black parent feels, a mixture of love and pride and fear and hope, the same as every parent feels, but affected by the attitudes and culture of those surrounding them. I am sorry if that sounds cliché, watching "Roots," but, hey, just telling it like it happened.

I know I will not be able to instill a sense of racial pride as well as a black parent would be able to do. A sense of being there and belonging, and knowing what it feels like. But, as an adoptive parent, I am not totally helpless. I can acknowledge their races and cultures and the fantastic creations that they are. I can give them a safe, stable, loving home where they are fed well, clothed well, educated well, and given every future opportunity that our nation offers. I can give them the knowledge that God created them perfectly wonderful exactly how they are and that I think they are absolutely beautiful.

I was reading on Twitter (yes, Twitter) the other day some funny one-liners on "BlackParents" and what they say. (It was a top hashtag, okay? LOL) It occurred to me that yes, my black son is missing things within the black culture. I have a huge respect for black people and black culture, and a lot of the one-liners made me chuckle. Some are not so different after all, especially regarding church, respect, and not having any McDonald's money! At the same time, I am not going to try to imitate it or cheapen it. I'll do my best to teach my black children to love who God made them in the same way I'll teach my white children to love who God made them. Some of my kids are pink, and some are brown, but they are all my kids, and they are all perfect and beautiful.

Just as they should not have to apologize for who they are or what color they are, I should not have to apologize for being white. I am the color that I am, and I have been given the task of raising kids the color that they are too. In a way, our family will have its own unique racial identity, just like the United States, where all colors live and work together. I don't want to pretend it doesn't exist, thank-you-very-much. I want to enjoy it and celebrate it. Race doesn't have to be a shameful topic, it can be a wonderful one! That's one of the strengths I think black culture brings to our nation, is a willingness to talk plainly about race, and their feelings on it. I know it's not very PC for a white person to do so, but I don't really care. It's something I need to sort out for myself and my children, so it's something I will write about and talk about. Hopefully, when the time comes to help my children form their own ideas about race and identity, I will be a little closer to being able to relate with their need to wrestle with it, too.

I can imagine someone saying, "You are already doing it wrong, writing this about your black children, when you don't write the same thing about your white children. You are already separating them out, treating them differently." Well, you know what? If our country was perfect and discrimination did not exist, then I would not need to do that. I would not need to think about the fact that I need to write this about my black children. But, I don't think ignoring the issue is going to heal the deep wounds in our country. And asking white people to walk on eggshells around the issue is not going to make it go away, either (and the PC Police in my experience are usually white). It's a part of my family, a part of these little people, and I love them, and it's part of their culture to talk about it. The differences in my family are good differences, beautiful differences. We are not a black family, it's true. Neither are we a white family. But we are a family!

What Are They Watching?

2011-09-14T21:49:00.000-07:00

Their baths are over.

All in a row on the couch,

they are watching something, so intriguing, so fascinating.

What is it?

Oh, it's Shaun the Sheep.

Moon Dough on the Brain

2011-09-12T21:16:00.000-07:00

Moon Dough, for the uninitiated, feels like a strange hybrid between packing peanuts and playdough. It's light and soft and strange, and it shreds into bits that go everywhere. The kids love it.

Lately, I feel like this is the substance that inhabits my brain. I can't keep a coherent thought formed for long, let along making a plan or keeping a schedule. I think a large part of my brain is wandering the corridors in a little orphanage in Ethiopia.

All I can say is that it's a good thing I'm not tied to a homeschooling schedule or I'd be a miserable failure. As it is, the kids seem to be picking up reading with alarming speed, and all I have to do is sit back and admire them. Whereas, if they had to wait for me in order to learn something, they might be waiting for a while.

I Remember.

2011-09-11T16:45:00.001-07:00

The morning of September 11, 2001, I woke up and prepared to meet my carpool ride with a fellow teacher. In my head, I was preparing for a day of teaching music: the fifth graders would be first. I would need to spend extra time helping my struggling little trumpet player today. I would have first graders just before lunch, and after lunch, the high school kids took all afternoon. Some learned guitar, and some were in choir, the last class of the day.

I stepped into Mrs. V's car, where the radio spilled out words.

"Sssh, there's something wrong."

We listened in uncertain silence as we drove through the naked, harvested wheat fields. Something was wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong.

We got to the school and hurried inside. I found myself in the history teacher's classroom. A television showed live coverage of smoke. We saw a plane, and watched in horrified slow motion as it disappeared into the side of the second tower. We waited.

I didn't want to teach. Our world seemed to be falling apart, yet we felt insulated by the thousands of miles between us and what was happening. It didn't seem real.

The Principal called a hurried meeting and told us all to try to keep our schedules as normal as possible in order not to scare the children.

I taught my fifth-grade trumpet player. In a dream, I taught my first graders. Our world was never going to be the same, and yet the 28 innocent pairs of eyes still looked up at me, and still loved our games of music hide-and-seek.

My life did change that year. As if the falling of the Towers signaled the falling of my old life, I changed forever that year. Ten years later, I can look back and see that year as a blessing, but then, it felt like that day, numb and filled with smoke and fear and pretending everything was okay when it was actually crumbling into nothingness all around me.

Like our country, that was a time of pain, a time of humility, and a time of growing. It was a time of realizing I was not invincible, and that some things hurt too much to ever truly heal. At the same time, I learned to be strong. I learned to find courage in the midst of tragedy.

No, I won't ever forget that day.

Crackled Cookies

2011-09-07T12:53:00.000-07:00

A nice side effect of Hubby's side job as a coffee roaster is a little bit of play money for him. Clearly, I am not very good at sharing my own play money, because he was beyond thrilled to finally get some too. He decided to invest in his baking hobby, purchasing a food scale and the book, BakeWise.

Last Monday, Labor Day, he recruited the kids to help him bake a new kind of cookie. Cookies are my Hubby's lifelong obsession and love. When we go to his grandma's house, the first thing he does upon walking in the door, if he is not intercepted by a hug, is to check the cookie box on top of the fridge.

I think the fact that I don't bake cookie very often is one of my wifely failings in his eyes, and he has taken it upon himself to remedy the problem and bring our children up properly in cookie-lore and production.

These cookies surprised me in their simple beauty and amazing taste. I am told they were composed mostly of different types of sugar, which contributed to their richness. Hubby seemed pleased with the result, and enthused at length about the interesting articles in his book on the chemistry of cooking. For my part, I'm just going to get a glass of milk and enjoy one of his creations.

Hat

2011-09-06T11:50:00.000-07:00

Can you believe he is almost 2? Neither can I.

Building Tall

2011-09-05T16:40:00.000-07:00

While Curly and I were at Meadow Creek last weekend, Little Mister got some much-needed one-on-one time with Daddy. It was their ambition to use ALL of the Legos to build a giant castle on the Dining Room table. Since we just scored a huge tub of Legos from the local free Classifieds, this was a large undertaking.

It turned out that they were not able to use even half of the tubful (I love having enough Legos for everyone) but still built a very tall house. The best part to me was the bright smile that greeted me when I came home from hiking. Little Mister's tank o'joy was full, and it did my Mommy heart glad to see it.

Snapshot: Child-led learning

2011-09-02T10:51:00.000-07:00

Entirely on her own, Curly asked me to turn the Book 2 violin CD on the stereo. She then pulled the book of music off the piano, and took it inside the fence where the baby could not swipe it. She has been sitting in there happily singing along, commenting on the composers and following the music for each piece. For half an hour, she has been absolutely fully engaged in her learning, practicing sight-reading skills, listening for major and minor, commenting on the keys of each piece, and identifying elements such as a Grand Pause.

I intended to write a long blog post detailing my thoughts on child-led learning, but I haven't gotten to it. (My Mother's Helper is absent this week, and I sure miss her!) But what better way to show the benefits of child-led learning than this vignette? Rather than pulling Curly away from something else she was engaged in, I allowed her to choose the time and place of her learning. She chose something she is interested in exploring, and rather than having to force her to focus and concentrate, she is by choice completely immersed in it. Even her brothers cannot pull her away from her music this morning. For this reason, I'll have little need for forced review or reteaching of what she learns this morning. She is internalizing the information to a depth she would never accomplish if it wasn't her idea.

One of these days, I'll write the post on Child-led learning, answering the many objections to it, such as "what if they never choose to learn math?" For now, though, I am too busy watching learning in action to write much philosophy!

Meadow Creek

2011-08-30T16:10:00.000-07:00

As part of my Work-At-Home job, I have been transcribing oral history interviews all summer. For hours upon hours, I have listened to people telling stories about the Selway-Bitterroot Wilderness, stories about wildfires, stories about animals, stories about dangerous mountain rescues. They have told stories about July snowstorms, and about the community of people who have lived in the wilderness, who have influenced the laws made to protect the wild land. They tell stories of fishing and stories of hunting and hiking and flying tiny Cessna 170 "tail-dragger" planes into wild, backcountry airstrips.

All of these stories have only whetted my appetite to go experience this amazing place for myself. When we found out that Ethiopia would be postponed until October, Hubby said, "well, why don't you plan a trip down there, then?"

So, that's what I did. I invited Mom along to go flyfishing, since she loves the wilderness as much as I do. We also decided to take Curly along for her first wilderness trip as well.

I printed out directions, and we set off. Two-and-a-half hours into the drive, I groggily asked where we were. "Kooskia," was Mom's answer. She was driving, and I wasn't paying much attention. We'd see the river divide into the Lochsa and Selway, and we'd turn up the Selway River Road.

Another hour passed. I commented to Mom that something wasn't right. We should be there by now. She replied that she had been driving a little on the slow side. I frowned, but didn't comment. Surely not that slow?

Another 45 minutes passed, without a single recognizable landmark. We passed several campgrounds, but since I hadn't brought a map of the area (nor did we have anything so sophisticated as a GPS) we did not know quite where we were. All at once, we found out that we were at the top of Lolo Pass and were poised to enter into Montana! We had driven over 80 miles past where we should have turned! We turned to each other in dismay, and then broke into helpless laughter. When you get lost that badly, there really is nothing else to do!

We ate dinner there, and then backtracked another hour and a half until it got dark. Finally, we found the turn, and decided to camp there rather than drive the last 20 miles of gravel road in the dark.

This changed the character of the trip significantly, since we had to break camp again in the morning, and I was really tired by the time we finally did get to Meadow Creek. I had been hoping to hike quite a few miles into the SBW, but I ended up having time and energy to only do two. Still, I got to be there, to see a part of that place, and to add my own story to the many stories in my head of the beautiful Idaho wilderness.

As a bonus, my daughter had a blast, learning to fish. Her fishing pole had a release button on the bottom that made casting quite similar to playing with the Wii. As a result, she was eerily good at it, and caught several trout. I didn't get pictures of her fishing, however, as I didn't take my camera. The two scenery pictures above were captured with my iPod while hiking.

Still, we had a fun three days of it, and left just as another wildfire began to make the air too smoky to be pleasant. I hope I can go back down there soon, and stay more than one night.

Dinner Math

2011-08-25T16:42:00.000-07:00

As I was fixing dinner last night, Little Mister wandered into the kitchen and began to gaze longingly at the two leftover muffins on the counter.

"Do you want those for dinner?" I asked him.

"Yes," he replied, "but there are only two, and five of us love muffins."

"That's true," I agreed. "Daddy and I can probably do, though. How about we divide the muffins up among the kids?"

He brightened. "Okay!" he said enthusiastically.

I decided to challenge him mathematically, although the sort of fraction I was proposing, I would not have understood until much later. Still, he liked to think, and I knew he'd appreciate the attention.

"How are we going to divide these two muffins between three kids, so each kid gets an equal part?"

His first answer, as I expected, was to cut one muffin in half. I explained why this did not yield equal parts. This stumped him, and he retreated to the couch to lay down and think it over. I smiled to myself.

I expected him to forget about it, or come in and ask me for the answer.

"Do you want a hint?" I called.

"Sure," he agreed.

"It has something to do with thirds," I said.

He sat out on the couch for another few minutes as I rinsed fresh strawberries and cut off their tops.

"I got it!" he said, jumping up, and bouncing back in to the kitchen. "You cut both of the muffins into thirds."

"How does that give you equal parts for each kid?" I asked.

"Well," he said, in the manner of a professor warming to his explanation. "You have six pieces that way. If you give two to each kid, we all have the same."

"Right!" I said, pleased. "How much muffin does one kid have?"

"Two thirds," he reported, and headed back out of the kitchen. "And you can give Bean the cut-off pieces."

This is exactly what we did.

Creating New Spaces

2011-08-21T11:54:00.000-07:00

While I adore my darling little cottage, built in 1920, I will be the first to admit that it's small for a family of six. Generally, I think this is a positive thing. It teaches us to use manners, and to share. Sometimes, though, it makes it difficult to find space to do the things we want to do, particularly with a curious, marauding baby on the loose.

Curly chose a beginner's needlepoint kit as one of the projects to learn to do this fall. Secretly, I was thrilled, since I love to sew and do creative projects. She quickly found that she needed to work on it where Bean couldn't grab the yarn and eat it; for instance, she was found crouching on a table here.

We also decided to create a school room. The only space available was in my bedroom, which is a little unfortunate, but I was willing to donate the space for a good cause. We wanted a place for the kids to be able to work on their art projects or workbook pages when they so chose. I also voted for using this space, because it has more daylight than other parts of the house, and there is an intuitive part of me that loves having daylight when a person is learning.

We also wanted the computers to be upstairs again. We had them in the basement playroom all year last year. The problem with this was that the kids did not get enough support with doing things like logging into pages or updating Flash.

Our learning will still be unscheduled and mostly child-led, and we'll still involve a lot of hands-on outdoor learning. This school area is not intended to be limiting to the kids, but merely to be another resource and place for them to be. So far, they are wild with excitement about it, and they go in there whenever they have the chance. Little Mister, in particular, eats up workbooks like candy, and is on page 16 of his new Grade 1 Complete book that features reading, spelling, math etc. Several times, I have found him in there busily working away on it.

Elvish VoiceOver

2011-08-20T13:20:00.000-07:00

In spite of our usual trouble finding a babysitter, Hubby and I have decided to take an enrichment course downtown on Tolkien's The Silmarillion. Like many Tolkien fans, I started this book several times, but like many Tolkien fans, I found it largely inaccessible. After the first class, in which we read the wonderful essay, "On Fairy Stories" (again), I feel like I have a much better framework with which to dive into reading The Silmarillion. We discussed Tolkien's approach to the "Perilous Realm" of Faërie; perilous, I believe, because the demons you confront there are not the dragons and monsters of bed-time story legends, but far more sinister: the parts of ourselves that we try hardest to hide. Once we enter the Perilous Realm, we become transparent in our naked humanity, and those things that we wish most to keep secret become exposed.

This, however, was not the subject of my blog post. I meant to stay much more in the practical and safe arena of the reading itself.

This year, as I have transitioned to reading accessible material, I've been pleasantly surprised at the ease at which I have been able to access the printed word. After a lifetime of eye strain, headaches and discomfort when reading, the effects of which cause me to skim and miss a lot of the text in order to finish faster, I now can read comfortably with a high level of detail using VoiceOver on my iPod Touch.

For this book, it took almost no time at all to go into my favorite reading app, iBooks, search around their store and buy an e-copy of The Silmarillion for the very reasonable price of $10, and set VoiceOver to reading it aloud to me. Some people dislike the somewhat monotone robotic voice that synthesized screen readers use to read. On the other hand, I find it quite easy to listen to. When you read a book with no illustrations, but only plain black-and-white text, you necessarily use your imagination to fill in the details. To me, computer speech seems similar to that. I take in the plainest of words, but in my imagination, colorful worlds and beautiful music emerge. In a way, it's almost better than having a human reader, who may tend to add an interpretation I disagree with, or who might emphasize certain words. In the same way, a badly done illustration can mar my enjoyment of a print book. The best book readers, in my opinion, read quickly and accurately with no personal interpretation of the story. Of course an interesting accent never hurts, such as Caroline Lee's gorgeous renditions of Kate Morton's lovely historical mysteries.

Sometimes, even despite the skill of the best human reader, I prefer using the computer to read to me. For one thing, I can set it to read much faster than the recordings done by readers. I like to read at a pretty brisk pace, take in the information, and then ponder it later throughout the day.

I've discovered an interesting feature of The Silmarillion as it pertains to VoiceOver. The text is packed full of Elvish words and names. I have to chuckle at times as the computer does its best to pronounce the long Elvish words, often full of umlauts, accents, and other oddities that Tolkien loved.

Many people have never heard a screen reader, so I've recorded a sample of the beginning of The Silmarillion, read by VoiceOver, exactly as I have been reading it this week. (If you have never read this, it's Tolkien's Creation account, where the Father, Ilúvatar, causes the world to come into being through song.)

Listen here.

Ainulindalë
The Music of the Ainur

There was Eru, the One, who in Arda is called Ilúvatar; and he made first the Ainur, the Holy Ones, that were the offspring of his thought and they were with him before aught else was made. And he spoke to them, propounding to them themes of music; and they sang before him, and he was glad. But for a long while they sang only each alone, or but few together, while the rest hearkened; for each comprehended only that part of the mind of Ilúvatar from which he came, and in the understanding of their brethren they grew but slowly. Yet ever as they listened they came to deeper understanding, and increased in unison and harmony.

And it came to pass that Ilúvatar called together all the Ainur and declared to them a mighty theme, unfolding to them things greater and more wonderful than he had yet revealed; and the glory of its beginning and the splendour of its end amazed the Ainur, so that they bowed before Ilúvatar and were silent.

Then Ilúvatar said to them, ”Of the theme that I have declared to you, I will now that ye make in harmony together a Great Music. And since i have kindled you with the Flame Imperishable, ye shall show forth your powers in adorning this theme, each with his own thoughts and devices, if he will. But I will sit and hearken, and be glad that through you great beauty has been wakened into song.”

Then the voices of the Ainur, like unto harps and lutes, and pipes and trumpets, and viols and organs, and like unto countless choirs singing with words, began to fashion the theme of Ilúvatar to a great music; and a sound arose of endless interchanging melodies woven in harmony that passes beyond hearing into the depths and into the heights, and the places of the dwelling of Ilúvatar were filled to overflowing, and the music and the echo of the music went out into the Void, and it was not void. Never since the Ainur made any music like to this music, though it has been said that a greater still shall be made before Ilúvatar by the choirs of the Ainur and the Children of Ilúvatar after the end of days. Then the themes of Ilúvatar shall be played aright, and take Being in the moment of their utterance, for all shall then understand fully his intent in their part, and each shall know the comprehension of each, and Ilúvatar shall give to their thoughts the secret fire, being well pleased.

In Which I Am Not Bored

2011-08-17T16:56:00.000-07:00

I spend a lot of time watching the kids. Primarily, I make sure they're safe, happy, and not pounding on one another. Usually, though, I don't play with them, as it takes more energy than I have to expend. I'm not lazy; I have chronic pain, and bending over to play with a pool full of plastic toys is excruciating. Once in a while I do play, but generally I just sit and supervise. There's a problem with this method, however. It's boring.

Today, the kids and I got out the new bigger kiddie pool (thanks Amazon!) and filled it up with water. They busily filled the pool with bathtub toys and put on their swimming suits, even though the freshly filled water had to be about 50 degrees F.

While I watched, I amused myself with photography: playing with the depth-of-field, getting the autofocus to behave, and shooting macro shots from my perch on the front porch. Result: the kids had fun, and surprisingly, so did I.

Almost Too Big

2011-08-15T16:02:00.000-07:00

Bean and I still share a few precious moments of bottle-nursing each day. We both love that sweet time of baby intimacy, although I know it will end all too soon. I love my baby!