Ethiopian Gothic

March 2008 - This photo was in the first set of pictures we were sent from Ethiopia.
It's the one where we decided that this 'sibling set' would no longer be 'those poor children' but become 'our kids.' We analyzed it over and over again. We tried to read their true personalities through their eyes. And like most parents, we loved them before they knew we existed.

February 2010 I took this after a recent indoor soccer game. I still often get questioned about whether the kids are adjusting to America or not. One of these days I'm going to answer, "No, you know, they're really fighting it." The evidence; however, points to the contrary. And note how all the hard work Habtamu has put into his "totally unimpressed" look is finally paying off! (and yes, that's a deliberate pose on his part.)

Say What?

It's funny and scary and embarrassing to hear my children use phrases I've said and they've heard from other sources. Now I've started shaking my fist in the air and saying, "Don't you use my own words back at me, young man/little lady!" Here are some recent examples.

Last Sunday we went ice skating with Lee's sister. Yordanos called to me from the side of the rink as I was going by. And, I, being a "rule follower" had to keep going around in the orderly counter-clockwise direction until I came around again. She had lost patience by that time and called, "You're just wasting my time!" Lee's sister looked at me with a cocked head and I grinned sheepishly, because I KNEW that came from me, except I usually say, "You're just wasting your own time." So, hey, her grasp of English is getting good enough to extrapolate what to say in ANY situation.

The kids were playing house soccer with a small nerfy sort of ball and I heard Yordanos say, "Whew! I need a breather!" I don't remember EVER saying that in my life, but since she's in soccer, etc... it's probably come up.

Whenever we see teenagers with baggy pants, smoking, pierced, or in any other way acting thuggy, the kids say, "They're just trying to be cool, right?"

The other night at dinner Habtamu asked if he could do something (I don't remember what) and I answered no, because (I don't remember why.) Great story so far, huh? Anyway, his ultimate response was, "Dammit!"

Now, I'm positive he didn't get this from me. Disclaimer, disclaimer, disclaimer.

So I said, "Well, the good news is that you used that word correctly. The bad news is that it's not a good word to say. We don't use that word."

And from the kitchen, Yordanos yells, "Habtamu, did you say 'damn'?! You're not supposed to say 'damn'!"

And we all busted up, laughing, because really, isn't that what makes families fun?

Plagiarism - Now for HomeSchoolers, too.

Sometimes I think my kids must think I'm dumb as a box of rocks. To illustrate:

"It wasn't me."

"I SAW you."

"Oh, well, I was only trying to... (insert lame-o excuse here)"

Take, for example, my son's new found desire to be cool by not wearing his shin guards to soccer practice... just like the other pre-teen boys. I made sure he had his shin guards with him for practice last night, but like the old saying goes, "You can lead a horse to water, but cannot make him drink." Lee took the kids to practice, and the 1st thing I hear when I get home is from the narc, AKA: little sister.

"Habtamu forgot his shin guards."

"No he didn't, he had them with him... they're not here."

"No, he LEFT them at practice."

At which point I turn on my son, who is already raining down brimstone on his own head, and I ask calmly (No, really! I did!) "Why were you not wearing them?"

"I KNOW, I KNOW, I'm stupid and I don't listen well!" This, as you may well know, is a classic defense mechanism. It's short hand for I-messed-up-everyone-hates-me-now.

So, this morning I was checking Habtamu's journal entry. I have them write a story for me every day with a picture. It can be about anything, but has to be their own story. I pick up Habtamu's. He's got a story that sounds really familiar. I ask, "Did you copy this out of a book?" He says, "No. I used the book to know how to spell the names." I say, "Where is that book?" All the time knowing full well which book and which story he copied. He got defensive and slammed out of the room to shower. Later, after he had calmed down, I talked to him about the shin guards and the copying, and told him I would love him forever and that NOTHING he could do would change that. Then I tickled his side and all was suddenly right in his world.

We're making progress. One of the biggest lessons for ME was not to yell. No matter what. Yelling has exacerbated a problem every. single. time. If I feel yelling coming on, I leave the room and say something like, "I need a time out." The kids don't ever like to feel like I'm angry at them and will act out accordingly (ie: worse) if they see that I am. However, I DO get angry at some of the things they do, and walking away is the best option if I feel I cannot speak rationally at that moment. Ah, for supreme patience to be mine. I've prayed for patience before and gotten lots of practice time. It stinks, but when I think how much MORE patient I am than I was, I'm glad I asked for it.

The Cinema pt II: No No, the OTHER Avatar

Clan Gardner is a big fan of Avatar: The last Airbender, more commonly known as 'That Nickelodeon Avatar.' The kids have watched through all 3 seasons about 400 times. Habtamu and I had already had a conversation about how the Avatar movie that everyone is talking about is not about Avatar the Airbender. It's about blue people (NO! NOT AIRBENDERS,) it's PG-13, it's too expensive, and he's never going to see it. He was fine with that because, after all, it was the wrong Avatar. It's probably worth noting that the kids had no idea that movies show at the theater first and then come to video. So, it was easier to tell H that he would never see the Blue Avatar than it was to explain the whole movie distribution cycle, guess at the DVD release schedule, etc...
One of the joys of being an American child these days is that you don't have to wait for sequels as long as your super uncool parents don't ever let you watch anything new. And until this weekend, they hadn't.
So I closed the door on Avatar and then predictably came back around to it. I figured, you know, what better first movie than a 3D, surreal, action-packed, winter blockbuster that your Dad told you you'd never ever see? Empire Strikes Back probably wasn't my first movie, but it's the first one I remember. We were running late and came in just as the TaunTaun was getting split open. Like I said, whatever movies I saw before that were over-written in my memory that day.
So here's me trying to convince my son that he wants to see this movie even if I'm there. "Ok, well, I think we're going to see Avatar on Monday."
"Why?"
"What do you mean why? It's a movie."
"It's the wrong one.""Well, I know it's not the Avatar you know, but I think you'll like this one too."
"Why?"
"Well, it's supposed to be very exciting."
"Hm."
"It's almost 3 hours long."
"3 hours? Ooo..." (The kids still equate quantity with quality programming, but regardless, now I've got his attention.)
"Look, it's should be good."
"You've seen it?"
"Urk! No I haven't seen it. It's at the theater." (temperature rising...)
"Then how do you know it's good?" (This is all coming from a boy who has never met a TV show or a sofa cushion he didn't like.)
"Ack! Gah! Listen. Uncle Paul saw it and said it was really really good. Ok?"
"Oh. Ok."
Note to self: if Uncle Paul says it's ok, it must be ok.

Ok, ok, it looks cool...

Monday afternoon comes and we're running late. I wanted to catch the matinee showing, so we ate McDonald's in the car and screeched into the parking lot. The previews were already running when we got in, but Habtamu still found time to poop and drool over the same IronMan 2 poster his sister saw before the movie started. Sorry, I just think it's funny that both kids specifically informed me of their intended bowel movements before settling in for their first movie.
The movie started and after a barrage of initial questions, he did a good job of keeping up with it. No spoilers here, but there's a scene early on where the main character gets chased through the jungle by a large cat-like animal. It was pretty intense, and made my son snuggled into me. That was my favorite part. Habtamu later said that he liked everything after that 'the best.'
As we left, he gave me a big smile and said he couldn't wait to go home and get Avatar2 on DVD. I had to tell him that there wasn't an Avatar2 yet.
"But I want to know what happens next!" he pleaded.
"I know honey, boy do I know. What do you think happens next?"
"How am I supposed to know if I haven't seen it?"
"Well, you might have to use your imagination. I don't know if there will be another movie, but I bet there will be books or something. You might have to read about what happens next."
"Ugh! I don't want to read! I just want to watch it!"
And thus another media junkie is forged. Start saving your money kiddo, them action figures ain't cheap.
Side note: Both kids, independently chose the back row center as the ideal movie watching location. In Yordi's case, it was right next to the only other people in the theater. That was fine for her, a little awkward for Daddy. H said it was because he didn't want anyone else's head in his way, (because you that showing was *packed,* being a school-day matinee and all) but I think there's some subconscious 'back of the bus' coolness factor going on.

The Cinema pt I: Build your own Princess

With full-time employment pending, really wanted to get some Daddy time in with the kids. I talked to Chris about it and we decided that now was as good a time as any for me to take them to the movie theater. Now, the kids are no strangers to movies, DVD's, VHS, and anything else that comes through the TV set, but they've only seen a theater from the outside.

When I told Yordi that I was going to take her to see 'The Princess and the Frog' she told me she wasn't interested and that she had already seen it. "Really?" I asked, "Where?" "At Meagan's. I saw Part 1 and Part 2," she replied. "Um, that one is different," I said. "Hm," she said, unconvinced. So on Saturday, we hit the theater. We got there a full half hour early which gave her plenty of time to get the lay of the land, ogle the IronMan2 poster, poop, watch all the previews, and then send me out for popcorn 8 seconds into the actual movie. Chris and I were a little concerned that she wouldn't be able to follow it, but once the movie got rolling she was fine. (She doesn't do well with any kind of ellipsis; she wants to see it all.) She laughed at the right times and was fine during the scary parts. When it was all over, she pieced together that each room in the theater was showing a different movie. I was pleasantly surprised that she figured that out by asking questions and reading signs, and not by poking her head into each room.

When we got home I looked up the movie on IMDB and found this picture of the main voice actress:
Trying to be clever, I called Chris over and asked her if she thought they found the actress first and then drew the character to look exactly like her, or vice versa. She just looked at it and said, "You realize that's your daughter in couple years, right?"

Sigh... she's totally right.

The Realities of the American Dream

So you may have noticed that things have been quiet on the blog front lately. That's not because life here has slowed down at all, but because I decided what has been going on was best left out of the public forum. It's not anything with the kids. They are fine, on-track, adjusting, etc... it's me. 3 months ago I was RIF'ed at work, and that my last day would be Dec. 31st. For those of you who haven't had the pleasure, RIF stands for 'Reduction in Force' and it's a polite way of saying, "It's not you, or the work you are doing, it's the position."

Ugh. Talk about one of the rites of passage that you want to avoid... All the frustration and fear. All the humiliation and feelings of worthlessness. The rollercoaster of hope and despair that follows. There are lots of stories that won't be told because I don't want to relive them, but I can tell you that I have a whole new respect and sympathy for the unemployed. Roughly 700,000 people in Illinois are unemployed, and in my area, it hit 16% this last month. That means more than 3 people out of every 20 who want a job don't have one (and that doesn't even count people who have completely given up, I found out.)

Suffice it to say, the odds are stacked against you. So what do you do?

Well, I figured out a couple things early on:
1) Lashing out at my former employer wasn't going to have any kind of positive net result, especially since I was still on the payroll for the next 2 months. (No severance package per se, but I got a 2 month warning...)
2) I needed to be deliberate about diet, excersize, and keeping in touch with friends if I wanted to avoid depression and look and feel my best at interviews.
3) Make lists and do them. Boredom => depression.

So that was the plan. Keep my mouth shut, healthy routine, keep busy, and pray something worked out quickly.

Turns out, keeping busy wasn't a problem. I picked up some short term contract work almost immediately so we were able to pay the mortgage and break even in December and January. It took 21 days for the state to process (and deny) my first unemployment claim. Granted I was denied because I was working, but the point is, if we were really depending on that money, it is a long time to wait.

Every unemployment story I've heard is different. Mine had a happy ending and what makes my story unique in this era is that I found a job 5 weeks after losing my previous one (although it was really 3 months of job hunting.) We are extremely fortunate that a lot of factors 'just happened to work out' in our favor the past couple months.

There are people out there who believe that everything they have, they earned. The implication is that you could have the same if you worked as hard as they did. It also implies that the guy that works three jobs to make ends meet doesn't work 'as hard' as they do. I'm of the 'everything I have is a gift' mentality. My new job is a mile from my house, the work will be nice and challenging, and I somehow retain my previous retirement plan.

I have a hard time believing I did much of anything to earn that.

Just like the good old days...

I had the opportunity today to work with a couple government agencies today, a pleasure I haven't had for about a year and a half now. I guess part of a 'paper pregnancy' is forgetting how much fun that is.

Here's the run down:

Yesterday
9:15am - Midnight: Tried unsuccessfully throughout the day to fill out and submit some fairly straight-forward forms online. Keep in mind that those of us who fix computers for a living would rather strap an angry woodchuck to our nether regions than go into an office and say, "I know the form is available online, but it didn't work for me." Seriously though, I couldn't do it. Chris couldn't do it. When you click 'Continue' and you get '404' it's not our fault, that's just bad programming. Anyway it only took 15 hours for me to swallow my cyber-pride. I think that's a record.

Today
8am: Drive 35 minutes to Government Agency #1.
8:40 Find the paper version of the form and fill it out while standing in the right line (because I'm a pro)
9:00 Realize that I only have one form of identification on me.
9:05 Get back in the car, go to Government Agency #2 to request a replacement ID card.
9:20 Read the sign that says I have insufficient identification on me to make said request.
9:25 Start to drive home to get passport which 'should' make it unnecessary to get the replacement ID card that Agency #1 wants so badly.
9:26 Call the Agency's 800 number in hopes that I can request the necessary ID without producing any actual forms of ID.
9:29 After multiple verbal menus, I'm told to fill out a form at my local agency office... so I continue home.
9:45 Jump back in the car (with passport) and drive 30 minutes back to Government Agency #2
10:20 Arrive at agency #2 and get my number. Sign at the front counter says, "Average wait time 20 minutes."
10:55 Number is called. (I've always been above average...) and I go up to the window.
10:57 Request for replacement ID is processed and I'll get it in the mail in 7-10 business days. Which is fine, except I want it today.
11:10 Drive back to Agency #1 with my drivers license, passport, the properly filled out form, and a receipt from Agency #2 saying I tried to get more ID.
11:15 Join the fray. For some reason this particular 'line' wasn't very linear.
11:25 I hear the one of the workers tell another client that she needed a photo ID and document with his Social Security number on it. My passport does not show my SSN and I don't carry my card around, so I'm hosed.
11:26 Call Chris to see if she can dig out a W-2 or something and drive it over to me. She says she can but it would take her a while to get the kids ready. That's wife-code for, "You're on your own buddy."
11:27 Digging through my bag, which I had with me the whole time, I find an obscure insurance form that conveniently has my SSN in bold on the front page.
11:31 I'm sitting in front of an agent.
11:38 Form submitted, accepted, and I'm in my car for the 35 minute trip home.

Futile online time: 12+ hours
Car time: 1.5 hours.
Standing in line time: 1 hour
Unnecessary trips to Government Agency #2 for unnecessary forms of ID: 2
Face time: 4 minutes

Ahhh brings me right back to the adoption days. The only thing that would have made it better would have been some kind of fingerprinting mishap. I don't know whether to be really frustrated that I wasted a day and a half dealing with paperwork that really only required 4 minutes of productive time (less had the internet not failed me) or if I should be relieved that I actually finished in under 5 years.

Either way, I'm glad that part's over.

Ethiopian Peace Accord

Today, an issue that has been brewing between the 2 Ethiopian factions came to a head.

Both parties complained of being awakened by the other party to use the bathroom at night. Tired of this particular argument, I went into Diplomatic Mode to get to the bottom of the problem. Both parties vehemently denied waking up the other party during the night, and yet both stuck to their original complaint that it was the OTHER party at fault.

I'll spare you the conversation, although it was hilarious. The breakdown went like this: Yordanos had stopped waking Habtamu up when she had to do #1, but she DOES wake him up when she has to do #2. Habtamu, alternately, does NOT wake up Yordanos when he has to do #2, but DOES wake her up to do #1.

The following treaty has been proposed and accepted by all parties, and goes into effect tonight:

No one will wake anyone up to use the bathroom at night for either #1 or #2. And both parties will remember how much they dislike being woken up when deciding whether to wake up the other party.

The only acceptable reasons for waking up either party:
a) FIRE
b) persons unknown breaking into their 2nd floor bedrooms
c) bats flying in room

Because Daddy's Psychic

Yordanos: *BURRUFFT!!!*
Lee: I see you opened the whoopie cushion Santa left in your stocking.
Yordanos: Yep! It puff sounds puff-puff funny. (3 small squeezes) *Brft-Barfft-BrrAFT*
Habtamu: Me too! (Sets whoopie cushion on the floor)
STOMP!
***BORP***
Lee: You know... those really weren't made to be stepped on. It won't last very long if you keep stomping on it. You'll be sad when yours breaks and your sister still has one to to play with.
Habtamu: I know. puff-puff (Sets whoopie cushion back on the floor)
STOMP!
***POW***
Habtamu (picking up the cushion and putting his finger in the gaping hole): It's broken.
Lee: Didn't see that one coming, huh?

Chris giggles
Yordi continues pooting away in the other room
Aaand curtain!

Meh.

I know I should blog, but I just don't feel like it. I should have written a Christmas letter, or made New Year's resolutions or something... just couldn't work up the energy. This is a hard time of year for me to get excited about. I know, I know... CHRISTMAS! I actually like Advent better... being a more contemplative time.

I have to say I'm relieved to be back in our regularly scheduled life. It works better for the kids and for me. We only had one really big meltdown from Habtamu this whole season... pretty much this whole winter. He was, you guessed it, hungry, tired, and in transition, and his sister called him "mean" for changing the rules of his own game to suit himself. So, he sat by himself at McDonald's without his lunch (his choice) while we finished up eating and I tried to remain calm myself, since I just wanted to yell (which never, ever helps).

The kids are typical American children now. Sigh. They had their Christmas lists prepared in advance and when it was all over, had the gall to say those words spoken by children everywhere in lands of plenty: "Is that all?"



We spent the weekend after New Year's at a cabin with Lee's folks and his sister and her family, which now includes the cutest baby in the universe. Yordanos did not bring her new doll, because, "Baby Jovie will be there... SHE'S my American Girl Doll." So we talked late into the night, watched movies, played games, worked puzzles, and played Wii until our brains were pleasantly mushy. (Hence the aforementioned breakdown by Habtamu.)



Back to the grindstone today. The kids and I had a pretty good time at school today. I added a couple of new things that they liked. I thought Yordi was going to go down, but she rallied and they worked very hard. Then we went to the library, replenished our books and videos, paid a $9 fine (doh! those dvds!), and had a lovely afternoon eating popcorn and watching the Cosby Show.

Hello to the Madison, WI contingent! Thanks, Andi, and Andi's friend Kristen(?) for reading.