Bengals on my side!

There is a cemetery on the main road that we take to get from our house to Dan's school/our church. We travel this road nearly every day for some reason or another. At some point shortly after we moved here, the children began shouting something whenever we passed this cemetery. It was difficult to understand what they were saying, mostly because of the accents and the fact that more than one of them were saying it at a time, but I thought nothing of it until I realized that only two of the children would say it, and it would be only those two who were sitting on the side of the van facing the cemetery. After a few very unsettling possibilities crossed my mind about what exactly they could be saying, I asked the Translator (Andrei, who still understood enough Russian to translate for Elena when needed)--but it was Inga who answered. "They are saying, 'Bengals on my side!'" she answered matter-of-factly. When I asked her why, she could not answer--but she participated heartily in this ritual, which took place every time we passed the cemetery, no matter what else was happening. It wasn't until Dan was driving and I got a good look at the statues that I figured out what was happening. There are several large statues involving many figures spread throughout the "field". Each one of them has at least two figures raising their arms, and at least one figure cradling the baby Jesus. To our kids it looks like a big football game.

Pre-Modernism

OK, I figure if everyone else can post on their postmodern viewpoint findings then I can post on my more pre-modern ones, even though they are not really PC. Right?

While I was waiting for my photo to download from my previous entry I clicked on a Reuters article on how this guy killed and ate parts of his cell mate . In case you couldn't guess, he was in jail for cannibalism. There was another article right next to it, stating that 31% of 5,000 parents polled from the US, Puerto Rico, and Canada don't feel like their methods of discipline are working (January 8, Reuters Life!). 45% of the parents used time-outs, and 41% removed privileges. The others used yelling (13%) and spanking (8.5%). As the children got older (ages 6-11), taking away privileges and yelling gained in popularity, but were just as ineffective. The author of the study stated that when time-outs and taking away privileges didn't work, she assumed parents must be resorting to spanking and yelling because emotions escalate. Her conclusion was, "Disciplining is something we do daily as parents but if this many parents think it is ineffective, it highlights the need to discuss other ways to teach children how to resolve conflicts." This study was just published in the journal Clinical Pediatrics.

Does anyone else notice what is missing here? Consistency. I don't care what method you use, if you are not consistent, it will not work. We are not lab rats, who will keep trying to get food from a certain box even though the incentive is only there 10% of the time. Humans will go try something more dangerous, more exciting, more on the edge--simply because we can. That about describes children, anyway. Another thing that is missing from this study is the obvious conclusion that the most-used method of discipline may indeed not work all the time. Her closing statement is ridiculous in light of this possibility, because discussing "other ways to teach children to resolve conflicts" gives the idea that the conflict is outside of the relationship between child and parent. And that is usually not the case. The parent is supposed to resolve the conflict by teaching the child how to and how not to behave, correct? Otherwise we are practicing "mutual parenting", where the child is on equal footing with the parent. And this is, in fact, what a lot of specialists recommend. This might explain some of the parental frustration out there.

First-Year teacher

I've been a classroom music teacher for more than 12 years. I know what to do by now, I know how to handle a kid who is struggling or has a bad attitude or needs to know just how skillfully they really play. But this year is completely different. Now I am teaching my own children, and I am teaching them everything they ought to know from birth to first grade. And I feel like a novice.
The reason I am tearing my hair out is that I realized today that I need to revise my homeschooling schedule again. The last time I made a major revision was...yesterday. This is the sort of thing that I did during my first year of teaching orchestra in Oregon, when there was lots of leeway and sympathy and support because I was teaching within a group of teachers who understood how difficult it was to be a first-year teacher...they'd all been there. People even gave me complete dinners because they knew I would be too exhausted to make my own at times. So I've done this already, this first-year teacher thing. I paid my dues, and have never had to go through another year like it again. Until now.
Now I teach two preschoolers (one of whom doesn't understand half the English words we use, such as the word "color", but does such a good job of emphatically answering as if she were a native-born English speaker that I did not know she had no clue until this week!), a Kindergartner (who is sort of in the same boat, only he looks like he's going to cry when he doesn't understand), and a first grader (who rivals Helen Keller for strong will), all at the same time. Don't get me wrong, I know I am doing the right thing, it's just not easy. Especially teaching children to read...there is something utterly exhausting about listening to a child struggle to sound out letters to a word they are reading for the first time. Now multiply that times a book's worth of those words, and then multiply that times two (because two of my children are learning how to read right now), and you have an idea of how I might feel after a day full of this. Today was one of those days. They both started a new book, so I have the energy level of a piece of phlegm right now.
For those of you who haven't asked and don't want to know, our plans are to homeschool each of the kids until they are ready to go into Dan's school. A big part of the timeline depends upon how long the whole "orphanage delay" thing hangs on...it's amazing what kids pick up in the first 24 months of life in a loving family, that they don't get at all in an institution (a very good argument for why day care is not good for children--they did a study and ranked development rates from highest to lowest in this order: child at home, child in daycare, child in orphanage. I forget what the exact percentages were, but they were sobering). My job is to fill in all those gaps so they are ready to go out into the world on a level playing field. Actually, I find it really exhilerating to be the one to fill in for that missing knowledge/developmental base, because it is like watching a flower unfold using time-lapse photography. So I guess teaching reading sort of balances things out...otherwise I would be bouncing off the walls, right?

Pregnancy

I'm seven months pregnant. At least, figuratively speaking. Without the figure, I mean.

I am just getting to the part where I am having to PLAN for this new baby. I have had to start canceling appointments at the end of January, and am not allowing anything on the calendar for March (better scratch that surgery Alex has scheduled--again). The baby's crib is all set up, his clothes are set out, his special dishes are bought (each child has their own set of special dishes)--I have everything but the diapers. People are starting to ask about him almost everywhere I go, and I find myself saying the same things over and over again but I never get tired of it because it reminds me that I will see him soon. If I were pregnant, I would be "showing" enough right now to draw lots of questions and comments, both ignorant and informed. It's amazing the sorts of things people think about adoption! But those who have adopted already or who have close friends who have adopted always ask the really discerning questions, the ones that usually lead to deeper conversations. I am starting to get REALLY excited.

I wonder if pregnant mothers ever have the same sorts of fears I have. A new life, an unpredictable being who is joining your family forever, no matter what they look like or what their attitude is toward you or anyone around them. Many of these things must be the same. Many but not all. Will I love him right away, or will it take time? Will he love me back? Will I think he is the most handsome boy in the world, or will his habits annoy me? Did others hurt my little boy before I could get to him? Has anyone else loved him? Will anyone mourn for him when he joins our family? Will he cry for anyone when we take him away from all he's ever known?

Each child is so unique; just because I have parented before does not make me an expert on THIS child. And the greatest fear...will something happen to him before we can adopt him? I have a friend who was informed that the baby she was trying to adopt was going into the hospital for emergency surgery. My friend flew to Guatemala and was able to spend a few days with the baby before the child died in her arms. Or it may not be physical. Judges will occasionally decide that a family is not a right fit for a child...sometimes with good reason, sometimes arbitrarily. Nothing is guaranteed until the child is home. Until the child is born. And then begins a whole new adventure...

Truffles and Jingles and Noise

Megan came home with us to visit for one day, making her first long (more than a couple of hours) road trip ever. We came down together on Sunday, and she drove back this morning. She even drove through New York City, first with me on the way down and then, on the return trip, by herself. Yey, little sister!

Megan's visit was very propitious since we needed an entire extra car (hers) to haul our presents back from Connecticut/Maine festivities (thanks everyone!).

We spent the time initiating her into good movies like Die Hard and Lethal Weapon, and then we made truffles. I should probably explain that truffles taste really good no matter what they look like, which in our case is a very positive thing. We traded the truffles in for a story a friend of ours wrote that she was hanging onto for some reason and that we wanted to read. We offered her a multitude of truffles if she would just e-mail us her newly written book, and she agreed. It was worth all the chocolate angst--a very good book indeed. While we were slavishly making the collateral we watched a movie called The Prize Winner of Defiance, Ohio. It was an OK movie, and thought-provoking for those of us who need inspiration for writing more often (which I do). This woman had ten kids and entered jingle contests in order to keep her family afloat financially. Some thoughts on the movie:

1. This woman's husband felt threatened by her ability to provide for the family while he spent the milk money on drink (the movie is set in the '50's I believe). It is true he was rather a dead-beat in his drinking habits, but she was no saint either in the way she treated him. Although the movie was trying to be women's lib-y and they did a good job of showing the mother as a strong character around which the family rallied, she came across a bit heartless when he asked her if she loved him in a number of different ways and she rebuffed him each time. In real life the man would have left, or at least left off trying to please her. He remained true to her and didn't give up trying to show her he loved her, despite his obvious issues with alcohol.

2. She wrote constantly, and encouraged her kids to write as well. They did, which is why one of them wrote a book which turned into this movie.

3. Ten kids make a lot of noise, and they actually did a good job of showing it in the movie. It makes me feel like my four are quiet in comparison. It also makes me feel like my kids are normal--because despite my awesome family and their willingness to enjoy (put up with) all of the noise my kids bring with them during Christmas I know you all aren't used to it and so I was a bit paranoid all vacation trying to keep my kids quiet and subdued (yes, THAT was quiet and subdued!).