I started this a couple of weeks ago, but was OBE (overcome by events), as Chuck likes to say. So relative dates are now relatively meaningless.
Milestones for the children
I love you: In the last week, Vika has told me that she loves me -- at least three times. And, once, when she was very angry with me, she said, "I don't love you." instead of the "I hate you." that I expected. And Diana has chimed in with her 'I love you." They have also told Chuck that they love him. This is a big change from the days when they only loved the dogs! ;-)
Neater eater: It has been several weeks since we routinely tucked a napkin into the neckline of Diana's shirt, as a bib, when she eats. She just was managing (with fingers, but that's another step) waffles very neatly. "With your fork!" is our cry, much as other parents say, "Use your words!"
English and reading: Last night, Vika read to me in English. We read Thank You, God, some of The Princesses' Manners, and Goodnight Moon! Today she and Chuck spent a long time reading together.
Seat belts for the baby dolls: Although the first-ever seat belt meltdown happened last Sunday, after church, when Diana took hers off and refused to put it back on (which proceeded to kicking and throwing things), this past week also saw one stuffed animal latched carefully into the middle seat belt of the car, and great concern that their babies not be pushed in their strollers until their seat belts had been fastened.
English: At dinner the other night I noticed that Diana has replaced the Russian 'и' with the English 'and.' And Vika's English Language Learning teacher, Mrs. Brown, reports that Vika told her IN ENGLISH that we have a tent, that we go camping and that all of us -- including dogs -- sleep together in the tent. Diana's teacher reports that Diana has begun talking to the class in English, single words, but trying to communicate.
Last Sunday the kids went to Sunday school and church for the first time ever. Between that and Halloween, I think they were way overloaded, but they held up amazingly well in church!
No change in routine goes unpunished. Chuck says that no change in routine goes unpunished. [BTW, the 'punishment' can last as long as 3 or 4 weeks... but it always, always follows change.]
To wit, he went to volleyball on Thursday night, and the kids were really, really difficult. I finally called and asked him to come home early.
Actually I said, "If you want live children and a wife who is not in jail, come home now!"
They would not do anything they needed to do to get ready for bed: wash their faces, brush their teeth, put on their pyjamas, etc. They wouldn't go into their bedroom, even. Well, I guess I finally got them into bed, but then they kept turning the light back on, so they could play.
The next morning, it took two of us to drive Vika to school, covered in mud and very angry, because she refused to get up and get dressed to catch the bus. Fortunately, the school nurse and psychologist are very skilled, and Vika has a toiletries kit at school because this has happened numerous times. They got her cleaned up and reported that she went off to class with a big smile.
She certainly came home all bouncy and smiling, except for the persistent question, "Mama, why did I go to school today?"
WHY? These "why" questions are particularly difficult because they are obstructive in the same way that children who do not want to go to sleep may ask for more water or to go to the bathroom one last time. At this point, I often answer her question with a question. My question either takes the form, "What do you think?" or "What would be a reasonable answer to your question?"
I think I've written about this before because often the question and her inability to understand an answer has more to do with lack of life experience and lack of agreement on cultural values. It has just dawned on me that they really have no idea why I would want to keep their teeth healthy or why I would object to activities that damage the furniture.
FERAL CATS! I've been trying and trying to think of a metaphor that would help others understand life from Vika and Diana's perspective and from ours, and I think I've got it. Our children are like feral cats.
.....They were found in miserable conditions and bad health.
.....They were removed to Lollypop Farm (our local ASPCA) to be gotten healthy and socialized enough that they could be adopted.
.....They've been adopted by committed loving people.
But now that they are adopted, they are shy of everything new, they are difficult, they don't share our values, they don't understand why they aren't free to roam the world at will, as they did before the Russian government stepped into their lives.
Even though their lives with us are much richer in experiences than their lives in government care, they are also more supervised! In care, they watched a lot of television. Here, television is a privilege that they don't get every day. Before living under government care, Vika essentially never attended school. Remember, she is now 11 years old. That is a long time to evade school, and it is a difficult mindset to modify.
MEDICAL FUN: We -- and the dentist -- discovered that Vika's gag reflex is so strong that the dentist thinks she will have to do Vika's dental work under general anaesthesia. This week, I also noticed that the arch of Vika's soft and hard palates is very high and narrow. We've been doing research about this because her teeth are misaligned and misshapen, and she is a mouth breather, hence the gagging. Now we really do have to get her back to the ENT because this can be fairly serious. Such fun. She is so terrified of everything medical... at the moment she won't even take Tylenol and she objects most nights to putting the acne cream on her face.
Diana, on the other hand, found the cartoons on the dentist's monitor compelling and was very happy and relaxed while breathing her 'strawberry air' which really was nitrous oxide.
The first big meltdown in public: That is, Diana was relaxed until she understood that she really couldn't have pizza after the dental appointment, due to the xylocaine. We had a lovely full-scale meltdown in the sub shop at the Perinton Wegmans, where Vika was eating pizza and Diana was refusing ice cream, yogurt, mashed potatoes, pumpkin pie, pudding, and soup...
People kept saying things like,
..... "Can I help? If I can help, I'm right over there..." [ans: "Thank you for your offer."] and
..... "Should I call the store manager?" [ans: "No, thank you."] and
..... "Is she having a seizure?" [ans: "That describes it very nicely."] and,
..... when she had finally started to calm down, "Would she like to color with these pencils and paper? That always calms my son." [ans: "Yes, thank you."] and then,
..... "She can keep them if she would like." [ans: "No, thank you, I've already told her that you are lending them to her. The last thing I want is for her to learn is that throwing a fit in public gets herpresents."]
Eventually Diana gave the picture she drew to the lady who lent us the drawing tools, and Diana even managed to say, "Thank you."
I took them back to school after that, even though it was 2 PM and school gets out at 3, because I needed a breather before starting in again at 3:45 when they get home from school.
Does anyone out there remember using time-sharing computer systems? When I was at Clarkson, there was a period late every Friday afternoon when the system was so over-loaded that the computer barely managed to poll each terminal in sequence and to say, "Yes, I know you're there. I'll get to you when I can." I suppose the modern equivalent is a denial of service attack. Or maybe trying to play a video game on an old, underpowered PC. Anyhow, I am like an over-loaded time-sharing mainframe computer. Either there is processing and no I/O or there is I or O or I/O but no processing, but not all three!
I've been in this state for months.
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