Careful which way you launch that conversation

I read this article today about how children who have a "conversation friend" learn better. They figure out reading quicker because they've already heard the words used in context. They also gain better problem solving and social skills if they have someone available with which to talk through their thoughts. The article then lamented that the role of the conversation friend isn't being filled by parents any more, exacerbated by the economy, both parents working, longer shifts, etc... What I took away from the article was, as a parent, we need to create opportunities for conversation time with our children and relish those times when they happen. Sounds basic enough, but it's something I've kind of gotten away from as I've become one of those in the 'longer shifts' category.

So tonight, I had that article percolating in my noodle as I picked up the kids for soccer. And, I think that's the reason I left talk radio on instead of switching it to the top40 station the kids usually prefer. The kids asked why, but accepted my answer of, "sometimes I'm in the mood for music, other times I'm in the mood for talking." Maybe the kids would pick up on something and it would spark a conversation that didn't involve deciphering pop lyrics, or on the other hand, the talking might mellow them out a bit before bed. Either way, I welcomed the change. The radio host had latched on to something (or a series of things, honestly I don't really remember) to be highly incensed about and he was very animated.

After listening a bit, Yo piped up from the back seat, "Dad, what's a launching pad?" Perfect! An excellent question asked because this guy on the radio used the phrase. So I stumbled through the definition in Tired-Daddy-ese. My explanation went something like, "Well, a real launching pad is where a rocket or missile sits before you shoot it. But he's using it to mean a place where something big and important starts." "Oh, like how a rocket starts slow and then gets faster and faster," chimed in Habtamu. "Well, no, in this case I think he's talking about something that starts quickly too, but you've got the right idea." The radio guy was actually talking about Afghanistan being a 'launching pad' for terrorist attacks, but of all of the words in that statement, I was glad that 'launching pad' is what got Yordi's wheels rolling.

A couple minutes go by and the radio blathers on.

"Dad," I hear from the back seat. "What's a drug dealer?"

*Sigh*

I'm afraid my answer this time wasn't nearly as eloquent...

A Day in the Life

H: Let's play basketball!

Y: OK!

H: (paraphrased) You're doing it wrong!
Y: (paraphrased) No, I'm not!
H: (paraphrased) Fine.  You want to do it wrong?  OK!

Y: You can play by yourself then!

H: You SAID you wanted to play!

Y: Mom!  Mom!  He's telling me what to do!

Y: Mom! Mom!

Y: Mom!  Stoooooooooooop! 

Y: Mom!  I'm trying to stay angry!

Y: Mom!  Stop making me laugh!

Y: StooooooooOOOOOOoooooooop!

Y: Oomba.  (Ethiopian equivalent of a pout.) I'm not talking to you!

30 seconds later...

Meanwhile...

Re-Wired

Those of you who have become parents know that some major re-wiring goes on in your brain because of them.  There are, of course, other things that help change you (passage of time, maturity, God: not necessarily in that order), but in my experience, becoming a parent made the most life altering changes in my brain.

Patience, Patience.
How many of us have prayed for patience.  I would tell people half-jokingly, "Don't do it!  Don't pray for THAT!"  Because, guess what?  You don't automatically become patient. It's not a gift that is yours for the taking, purchasing, begging, borrowing, OR stealing. You learn it through repeatedly being in situations that make you want to lose your mind, blow your stack, erupt like a volcano.  Well, you get the drift.  And if anyone can tell me a better proving ground for learning patience than having children, I'd love to hear it.   The practice of patience is daily, hourly, minutely... and secondly on some days.  One of the major things that stops me in my impatient tracks is the realization that I am modeling behavior for my children.  ARGH.  I HAVE to take the high road if I expect them to see how to live patiently.  Some days, for me, patience is keeping my mouth tightly shut when I want to say totally useless and unhelpful things like "Hurry up!"  and "We've got to go NOW!"  and "What is taking you so long?!" and "You should have done that earlier!"  These only serve to add fuel to a fire that is beyond my control.  The invariable answer from the recipients of these phrases is "I AM HURRYING!" and then their increased frustration, which makes them MOVE SLOWER.

Unconditional Love
We know that God loves us unconditionally, but we never realize what that means until presented with people that you HAVE to love because they are yours. In our case, getting older children with a history, memory, past, personalities already in place, created much opportunity for learning about love.  It makes sense that we did not all love each other right away.  We had all just met.  And, while Lee and I had a choice in choosing each other as mates, bearing or adopting children gives you little choice.  You get what you get.  True in any way you create a family.  So, now you've got these little strangers in your house, whether a baby born to you, adopted by you, depending on you.  And you've got to make the 1st move of loving them.  For me, after a couple of weeks I realized that these children were going to be our children forever... and then I had to keep realizing it every day for awhile.  We had not had children in our house for that long before, ever, and I'd wake up at night and think, "There are children in the house!"  That thought filled me with dread and wonder and fear and joy all at the same time.  After a couple of months I realized that I would give my life for theirs, but grudgingly, because it was the right thing to do.  After a couple more months, the grudgingly part went away and was replaced by GLADLY.  (God never had the grudging part, I'm sure.)

Caring More and Less
There are many things I used to care about, but don't anymore.  You can imagine what they are... Lee and I were alone, with 2 good jobs for 10 years.  Alone in our quiet house.  Able to do anything, anytime.  Go anywhere, anytime. I miss those things sometimes.  I miss being able to complete a sentence, a thought, an idea without being interrupted.  I don't think I've even been to the bathroom in the last 2 years without someone needing me urgently as soon as I close the door.  And yet, all this needing me is fleeting.  I know that some day, they will not come to me at night because they had a bad dream, because they feel sick, because they heard a noise.  I know, or at least desire, that they will grow and mature into a man and woman of God... people that care about the important things (God, other people, injustice, peace) and care less about the unimportant things (power, money, position, video games, TV).  In wanting to teach these things, I have been changed as well.  I thought and hoped I didn't care about money, until we went to one income so I could stay home with the children, then went to a lower one salary when Lee got laid off and had to find a new job. It took some adjustment, but I certainly care less about money now that we've got less of it. We've got riches in other areas that are much more important.

I know there are many more ways we have been re-wired.  What are the ways you have been changed?

These pics have nothing to do with the post, just thought you'd like to see them.

Half Empty or Half Full?

I forget what Habtamu even said one day, but I called him "Mr. Glass Half Empty."  He didn't know what I meant, so Lee volunteered to demonstrate.

He asked the kids, "Is this glass half full?"

They answered "Yes."

"Is is half empty?"

"Yes."

"Well, which is it?  Half full or half empty?"

Habtamu answered glumly, "Half empty."

And Yordanos chirped happily, "Half full!"

And there, my friends, is the truth of my kids' personalities in a nutshell.

When I announced to my family that I had finally swum the length of the pool (25 yards) without taking a breath, Lee and Yordanos cheered.  Habtamu's comment?  "Huh.  I bet lots of people can do that."  Lee shook his head and said, "All that water in the pool, and it's STILL half empty."

Can you guess what kind of a personality I had as a child?  Hello 1st grade!  (Mom? Were there no re-take days available?)

It gives me hope that if we're born with a "glass half empty" sort of personality, we can sometimes, with God's help become "half full" people.

Inanimate Love

I finally broke down and bought a food processor. There have been many times I have not made something because it needed a food processor, OR I tried whatever it was in the blender, and it just didn't work right.

I can't help but love the cheerful red color, and this little cutie has been used nearly every day since I got it.

This appliance also gets a daily workout...

But, of course, this is my favorite...

Which kitchen helpers make your life easier?

This was NOT posted by Lee.  Anyone know how to change that once it's posted?

Happy Belated Birthday

I am the world's worst birthday party thrower.  I don't care about themes, prize bags, or raffia decorations.  I know, being crafty, I SHOULD care, but I just don't.  This year, I asked a friend to make the cakes, and they were totally awesome. 

Cakes of chocolately awesomeness:

My hastily thrown together event went surprisingly well.  It was horribly HOT, we were at the park for 2 hours and then strategically retreated home to sit in the A/C.  I know, I know... I'm RUINING birthdays for my children by being a Grinch.  Don't tell them, though, because they had a great time. :)

Here's Habtamu receiving a bag of things that he'd left at our friends' house... his own hat and his own sunglasses.  He also got a baseball game for the Wii.

Here's Yordanos receiving every Hello Kitty thing on the market... thanks Grandma!  Lee said, "Somewhere, Hello Kitty is walking around with no clothes."

And here's one of the happiest sights for my children.  Grandma and Grandpa arriving... laden with food and gifts.  Grandpa let the children dig out one handful of coins from his change jar and keep it.  It was something his Grandpa used to let him do from time to time.  It's amazing how much change can be held with the right motivation.  I think both kids got over $12.

For my daughter, her baby cousin is the BEST THING EVER.  I rarely get to hold my niece.  

She's pretty much as cute as these babies... my "little" ones.

Shadow Warriors

One of the joys of soccer is seeing your children learn and be excited about playing.  The delight these girls have as they take the field is palpable. They run out onto the field with huge smiles and energetic hops... like lambs leaping just for the fun of it.

Once the game starts, though, they are all business.  Focused.  Tough.  Last year, Yordanos (Yo-Yo to her teammates) took a ball to the face in the last few minutes of a game.  It looked like her mouth was hurt, but she didn't stop playing.  The game ended and she comes over and I see that both her upper and lower lips were cut and bleeding from the ball hitting her.

"Honey!" I say, all concerned, "Why didn't you tell Coach you were bleeding?"

She rolled her eyes and said, "Mom!  I didn't want to get pulled from the game in the last 2 minutes."

I've seen her crumple to the ground after being tripped, pushed, hit in the stomach with a ball.  She usually bounces right back up and keeps playing.  A couple of times she has lain there a little bit crying, but still she gets up with renewed vigor and KEEPS PLAYING.

People, this is so NOT ME as a child.

Last weekend the kids played in a tournament in Elgin.  Here are the U-12 (Under 12 year old) girls going to warm up for their 1st game.  They played 3 games... losing one and winning two, which was enough to get them into the finals.  Getting to the finals is something you hope for and dread.  Hope for, because, well, COOL, you'll get a trophy no matter what.  But dread, because, AW MAN, we have to wait around for 3 hours for the final.

The girls played their hearts out, and were briefly in the lead, but they couldn't hold onto it and lost 2-1.  Here is Yo-Yo and her coach.  That is the 2nd place trophy.  Can you believe that?  That thing is huge.  This is her 2nd trophy. 

Habtamu handled the "my sister got a trophy and I didn't" much better this time than last time.  His team, a co-ed U-14, won one, lost one and tied one in the tournament... not quite enough to go on.  They kept the ball mostly on the "right" side, meaning they had dozens of attempts to score, but just couldn't do it.  Their coach told them (loudly) after the game, "I don't care if the score is 1,000 to 1... you keep playing like it's 0-0....you keep running and trying!"  I love him.

Good Thing...

Good thing he doesn't have to worry about being President of the U.S.  It's the only job unavailable to him.

If someone could explain adolescent boys to me, I'd appreciate it.

Also, to all you kids out there... if you're going to take pictures of yourself with the camera, assume that they will be posted on your parents' blog.

Cheers!

But enough about us

A couple weeks ago a co-worker of mine mentioned that she had seen an article in our local paper about another couple adopting from Ethiopia. Although this person has never steered me wrong at the office, my 'baloney alarm' went off immediately. First of all, "local Ethiopian news" is a complete oxymoron out here. Secondly, although it doesn't happen as often as it used to, good-natured folks would catch wind of some Africa story (usually adoption related but not always) and tell us about the one detail they kinda remembered.

Stuff like this:
"Hey Gardner, where are your kids from again? Africa, right?"
"Yes. Ethiopia."
"I think the Jones's went on a mission trip to Africa back in the mid-eighties. It might have been to Ethiopia. You should ask them about it."
"..." "Um... ok, I'll do that."

And thus my friend is now freed from all that bottled up "I-know-something-about-Africa tension" and I am left trying to figure out if I even know who the Jones are (or were?).

I know this comes with the territory. You tell people you work with computers, you get computer woes. Expecting moms get TMI on other peoples pregnancies. Doctors hear medical stories, etc, etc... I'm not knocking the intention, just the execution. And honestly, most of the people I come in contact with these day are now pretty informed and/or invested in my family, making it a non-issue. Oh, and on a related note, I've been pleasantly surprised at how many folks have been pronouncing my children's names correctly lately. I don't want you folks to think I didn't notice. Kudos!

So anyway, since most of the second-hand adoption stories have petered out, I was really skeptical to hear this report about a newspaper article involving a local international adoption. And not just an African adoption, but an Ethiopian adoption. And not just an Ethiopian adoption, but an older Ethiopian adoption. And not just that but the adoption of a 6 year old girl!?

I call shenanigans. Surely you've mistaken someone else's story for, say uh, maybe, MINE.

So I jumped on the ol' internet and 30 seconds later found this article. In case the link disappears, it's about a family in our neighboring county who has been matched with their 6 year old daughter in Ethiopia. They're waiting for the call to come get her.

Click Here for the Article

I promptly went back to my coworker and apologized for ever doubting her. The next thing I did was write the reporter a hurried email that sounded more like an insecure freshman botching a date than a viable invitation. It went something like, "Dear Mr. Stanley, I'd like to meet those people you interviewed. So if, like, they want to, you know, get together or something, that'd be cool, but you know, if they, like, don't, then, that's cool too. I totally understand." I probably could have just posted, "OMG, ME TOO!!!" in the articles comment section and been more coherent, but fortunately Mr. Stanley was able to cut to the chase and relay my contact info.

Two days later I received an email from them excited to hear from us and thirsty for information. I did my best not to spew too much advice, and I only shared Chris's and my first reactions after reading the article.
-I told them to start their cardio workouts now. The 8000 ft. elevation of Addis Ababa can be a show stopper. If I could do one thing differently, that I had any control over, I'd have hit the treadmill harder.
-Chris suggested trying to get a picture of the inside of their child's mouth so a dentist could give them a better approximation of her age.

I hope things work out and we can get together sometime. I'd love to tell them that story I heard about the Jones from the mid eighties...

News Flash: English is still stupid two years later

Wreaking havoc with prepositions:

Dad: Don't touch the door handle! If you pull it twice, the car alarm will go off.
Habtamu: No Dad. (Eye roll) The alarm go on.
Dad: That's what I meant... when I said... it goes off.
H: But it goes on. Open the door and the alarm go on.
Dad: I know. When the alarm goes on, we say it goes off.
H: (blink) But it goes on.
Dad: I know. The alarm goes off. English is stupid.

Meanwhile...

Dad: I'll go rent a movie for tonight.
Yordanos: Oh Dad! Can we see the dog movie!
Dad: No, Marmaduke is out at the theaters.
Yordanos: Can we get the DVD?
Dad: No, it's not out yet.
Yordanos: WHYYY-YUH?
Dad: (Leer) because it's still out at the movie theater.
Yo: But you said it was out!
Dad: It is.
Yo: Then lets get it!
Dad: We can't. It's not out yet.
Yo: *Huff* *Pout* You said it was out!
Dad: Ok, it's still out IN the theaters, not out OF the theaters. So it's not out ON DVD yet. Get it?
Yo: (Gives me the 'I understand I ain't gonna see the movie' look)