No one Reads Them Books

They thought I had lost my marbles.  I guess that isn’t anything new.  Many of the things I ask of my sweet students and the now trusting Chinese teachers make them shake their heads.  Did she really say…..?  They wonder if it is my bad Chinese or one of my crazy ideas.

“Yes, yes I did just tell the children they could use car wash mitts and loofahs to paint…but first let’s have a bit of sensory fun!”

Once little hands were coxed inside the wash mitts that seemed to dwarf their tiny arms the giggles did not stop.  Who knew a wash mitt could tickle so much.  Some were thrilled to then thrust their new toys into the paint, others were’t as sure.  The teachers themselves had their doubts and reminded me there would be a huge mess to clean up.  I had prepared for their doubts over our unconventional paint brushes.

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What I hadn’t prepared for…the blank stares when I pulled out a children’s book that had inspired our art lesson for the day.  I forget.  It isn’t as common for a Chinese parent to sit and read books to their children and for sure the children living at the Children’s Home were unaware there might be the luxury of a care-giver having the time and space to draw them into a lap for a story.

“They won’t listen.” one of the teacher’s told me.

“Then let them look” I defended.

“They can’t understand.”

“Then let us teach them”, I whined back.

I had similar conversations all week as I pulled out my book for each group of children.

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There are moments that I forget the children in my classes are orphans.  Seriously.  I know that sounds almost as crazy as using a car mitt for a paint brush, but it is true.  They are kids.  They are like normal kids that you might have in any classroom.

Then it will hit me.

I will pull out a book and their stark reality will hit me in the face again.

No one reads them books.

 

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Little Man’s favorite book at the moment is one of those “find the plane hidden in the picture” type books.  I have read it so many times since my mom bought it for him in September (Yes, that would have been 5 months ago.  Uhh, Thanks mom!  Thanks a whole bunch.) I read it on auto pilot.  I have gotten so sick of it.  “Honey,” I try to reason with him, “you already know where all the planes are on the page!! It’s not even a great story and you know the ending!”  See I am kinda crazy.  I try to reason with a four year old.  He will have nothing to do with it.  His fat little finger flies over the page pointing out each hidden image (in order I might add) as I read the words…again.

His big sister offered to read the book to him this afternoon letting me off the hook, but somehow the book isn’t so bad anymore. I get to be the one who reads him a book.  How cool is that?

 

 No one reads them books.  How sad is that?

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What are we going to do about that?

 

 

Some of our favorite things

We have used the last days of our holiday break to do a few of our favorite things…hot pot and ice skating ice sledding.  We might not have public playgrounds for kids or malls to walk around, but there are some fun things to pass the time in our city.  Sledding and bike riding on the frozen lake is definitely high on our list of fun things.

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Our family tradition is to eat hot pot on January 1st.  Everybody gets a tiny soup type pot sitting in front of them and you cook your food in that pot.  It is kinda like fondue, but even yummier!  It also is a bit exciting with an active four year old.  Little Man + a boiling pot + raw meat = entertainment that borders on danger.

 

 

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Ice sledding…you might wonder what that is.  In all my yankee days I have never seen anything like it.  Sleds are fit with blades (like what are on ice skates).  You use metal poles to push yourself around on the frozen pond.  They also have bikes that run on blades and are propelled forward by peddling.  Super fun but so hard to steer and stop.  There is a theme to the fun in our city.  It all tends to be border line on dangerous.  Just kidding.  Kinda.

 

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Our Northern peeps really should think of starting a business with these sleds!

Anyone who wants to brave the cold and visit us in the winter, we will totally take you for spin on this lake!

Just another day

It doesn’t matter how many years I live here, I will never get used to Christmas being just another work day (or get used to being away from family over the holidays.  You might think we are great adventurers, but we do get homesick.  Just say’n.)   A few days before Christmas the stores put huge Santa head signs on the doors, but I am the only one shopping in the toy section for my kids.  On Christmas eve many young adults go out to eat and fill the few western restaurants in our city which makes it feel like we are the only ones making a feast at home and reading the true story of Christmas.

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How do we make it not just another day?  We spend much time hosting and using every opportunity to share what the story of Christmas is about.  We have had cookie decorating parties for Hubby’s students and for the kids at the orphanage.  Sugar cookies are seriously one of my favorite foods, but I have made so many batches of them and baked them in our toaster oven sized oven (that would be 6-8 cookies at a time if you are counting.  I was.) I can hardly stand the thought of eating one now!   As much work as it was….we had a ton of fun sharing our holiday with all of our students.

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So we might feel like we are on our own celebrating Christmas, but really we are not.  There are several other expat families in our huge city.  The holidays is a great excuse for us to come together and celebrate.  Since we are from all over the world the ways we celebrate vary drastically, but that is part of the fun.

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Our girls participated in Christmas plays at the international school and at our Sunday fellowship.  Roo sang her first solo and rocked it.  Soccer Dude had a christmas recital with the group he is learning guitar with and Little Monkey sang in a choir and had a line in the play.  She worked at getting over her fear of the stage.  Proud of them all.

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Little Man was also supposed to be a sheep in one of the plays.  I was starting to sweat the morning of the performance.  “Mom I think I should be an elf who shakes his booty NOT a sheep.  ”  hmmmm.  Then, a package came in the mail from my parents.  The kids were thrilled with hats that my mom made for them.  Little Man’s is a lion.  “Mom do lions eat sheep?  Now I know!  I will be a lion in the play and see what the shepherds will do!”  No matter what I said he walked around the apartment practicing his lion growl.  I guess a growling lion/sheep is better than an elf/sheep who shakes his booty!?  I was wondering what this loose cannon would do on the stage.  In the end he got cold feet and took a nap.  I won’t say that I was disappointed – relieved actually, to have another year before he has a live audience.  This kid.

 

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I might never get used to Christmas not being a holiday here, but it did save my tail when I forgot (again!) to buy batteries.  Thankful for all the ways we were able to celebrate.  Over and over again I was thinking of how JC is with us.  Immanuel.  What a special holiday.

 

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Thinking of all of you on the other side of the world and wishing you a blessed holiday season as well!

With us

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The fall art projects have transitioned into a month worth of Christmas.  Not really sure where the weeks have gone, but I must say I am proud of my little artists who have turned out some fun projects and learned about Christmas as we went.  Evergreen trees, ornaments, Santa and stockings then by the end of the month we got to the heart of Christmas. They took it all in asking great questions.

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I was so blessed by our Christmas classes I didn’t think it could get any better. But it did.

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After talking about our Christmas tree and making cookies I had the idea of bringing a class to our home to experience Christmas at another level. So on a whim, I asked permission to bring my class home with me. I wasn’t really expecting to be allowed so when the permission was granted I was surprised and thrilled.

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My Thursday class got to know me on a whole new level and I them. There is something about a home visit that brings you closer. Each of the kids took photos in front of our Christmas tree, they frosted sugar cookies and exclaimed over their sweetness. I made pizza for them and we played games. But my favorite part was having them sitting around the living room watching Tom and Jerry with my four kids. For a few hours we were one big happy family.

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It was the first time Little Monkey and Little Man had met my students. I wasn’t expecting their surprise over the wheel chairs filling our living room. Little Man asked, “Why do they have legs that don’t work?” His question shouldn’t have caught me off guard. Makes sense in his four year old brain. He is missing a leg so of course he needs help to walk, but all legs should work!

I explained people are all different and some people are born with working legs, some with legs that don’t work and some are born without legs.

I expected a follow-up conversation about special needs, but as always he was many steps ahead of me.

“Mom,” he said, “those boys need to be adopted. You know. You and Dad adopted me and then got me a leg so I could walk. A mom and dad is what they need.”

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The idea of taking my students back to the Children’s home was hard at first. We handed them a small gift at the end of our time. They were thrilled but I felt that it was a cruel consolation prize. The words of my sweet four year old were resounding in my heart.

I love my son for having such confidence in his parents, but as I processed the afternoon I was drawn to the fact that parents wouldn’t meet all the needs of these kiddos just as I can’t meet all of Little Man’s needs.  Although all children need and deserve parents, the answer is in the heart of Christmas.  Immanuel.  G- with us.  He heals.  He provides.  He is.

Once again my sweet kiddos and students teach me, taking me deeper into the heart of Christmas.  As I took the kids back to the Children’s Home I did it with peace knowing Immanuel is with them.

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Speechless…there is more

I just haven’t known what to say.  Every time I sit down to write a blog post, I just stare at the screen knowing that I will say to much or not enough.

 

It all started the first week of October.  We got a call from the orphanage asking us to consider becoming foster parents.  They needed emergency placement for three different children.  We heard the stories of all three kids and then the questions started rolling.  Could we really do this?  Should we do this?  Where would we fit another body in this small apartment?  How could we possibly say no when they called and asked us so directly? We had said someday we might foster.  Was that someday now?

We pr.yed and went back and forth about it for two weeks.  Finally, Hubby and I felt at peace after pr.ying, “We will do this unless You provide another way.”  The next day we got a call.  One of the children had an adoptive family who was coming with in a few weeks.  No need for her to be fostered.  Then while at the orphanage I was told a Chinese family offered to foster the second baby girl.  That left a two year old boy.

I went to meet him and thought we would bring him to our home.  As I held the tiny boy in my arms the assistant explained that the director had changed her mind.   We could not foster him because he would not be put on the list for international adoption.  I wept for him…and me.

I felt at a loss as I realized that our pr.yer had been answered.  G.d was not asking us to foster now.  Funny how you can feel so reluctant to do something when you think you can.  There was part of me that was relieved, but sad at the same time and I wasn’t sure what to do next.

I love my art classes, don’t get me wrong, but the next few weeks I struggled.  Was it enough?  Actually the thought of fostering didn’t help me with that question either.  Deep down I knew fostering wouldn’t be enough and we can’t adopt all of them.

In the midst of my struggling I was made an offer.

I was shocked.

I would have said no.

I think G.d knew that I needed to hold that two year old boy and feel his helplessness to be reminded that we are in a battle for these kids.  More needs to be done.

I was offered a new role at the orphanage.  They have asked me to help with international adoptions…to advocate for the kids, help in preparing files, train foster families, and help the adoptive families who come.

At first I was tempted to doubt that I was up for the task and that our family could handle me putting in more hours at the orphanage, but everything that had led up to this…

This is the more that my heart was longing for and Father has been preparing me for this all along.  Isn’t He so good?

So there you have it.  Possibly adding a foster baby to our family or a new position….that will make even the most talkative gal silent on her blog for a few weeks! 😉  Now that it is all worked out, I am back and I am sure you will be sick of hearing about all the new craziness I get into as I jump into my new role.  My new responsibilities at the children’s home start December 1st.  I am scared out of my mind and so excited.

We would really appreciate your pr.yers as we begin this new season.

A crown on their heads

“Loneliness and the feeling of being unwanted is the most terrible poverty.”  Mother Teresa

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When there are children without families living in an institution, it feels ridiculous to think that some foam stickers can help.  But this week, the truth “small things done in great love” hit home again.

Honestly, I was looking for an easy-peasy craft to do with the kids this week.  There is a huge remodeling project going on at the orphanage and the classrooms have all been moved, combined, and packed up to accommodate.  I wasn’t sure what I would find or where my classes would meet, which meant a huge messy paint project might not be the best of ideas.

It was time to pull out a simple go to craft and use some of the super fun foam stickers some visitors brought us this summer.  I had no idea that foam crowns could be greeted with such enthusiasm.  I pulled out the crowns in my first class and the children clapped.  I was taken back.  Really?  The project I feared would take half a class period was met with great focus and concentration.  The kids dug through the stickers looking for the perfect ones and meticulously placed them.  The Chinese teacher ran for a mirror as I hot glued the completed creations.  That is when I was truly floored.

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I placed the crowns on the heads of my sweet students and watched their countenance transform.  They beamed.

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The children took turns telling each other how beautiful they looked and then they voted as a class on whose crown was the best.  We even used the last moments of class for the children to line up for a class photo.  The joy didn’t stop as class ended.  Foster parents came to pick up their charges gasped at the students who had been transformed into royalty.  “Wow! Who gave you a crown?  You look beautiful.”  As I took it all in, I realized that one of my heart felt goals was being accomplished…unintentionally.  The children felt special, worthy, valued and wanted.  I beamed.

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Later that day I was invited into the infant nursery.  A two year old boy, who is more like an infant due to his special needs, was placed in my arms.  He leaned his tiny head into the crock of my arm and my body instinctively bounced him gently side to side.  Within minutes he was asleep.  The nanny shook her head with a sad grin, “as soon as they are held they sleep.”

As I gazed into his sleeping face one of the foster care workers commented, “He is unwanted.  No one will ever adopt him.”

I wanted to argue with her, but deep down I knew the truth of her words.  His needs are severe.  He will never leave this place.  But it is only half truth.

I know the One who is Creator and Redeemer.  That baby boy is not unwanted or unloved.  There will be a day when a crown is placed on his head.  He will be whole, happy, healed and know the love of our Father.  Oh, what a glorious day that will be.

Until that day, rocking that sweet boy to sleep is like a bit of heaven on earth.

39

cake“So, old people keep on having birthdays?  Seriously?”

That is the question that my loving four year old threw at me this morning.  That boy.  His timing is just perfect.  At 39 that could sting a bit,  but I have decided that with forty breathing down my neck – old is relative.  On my 29th birthday I went and got my hair all chopped off  thinking short and spiky hair would keep me looking young.  For 39 I have decided to go a different way.

My girls set up a “spa” in their bedroom for me today.  They drug in our comfy chair, had a bowl of hot water and marbles waiting for my feet and a display of nail polish ready.  I happened upon them in the kitchen pulling out honey and a ripe banana that they were fix’n to use as a homemade face mask.  These girls.  They know how to be sweet, in very creative ways, to their momma.

I think it was as I was trying to hide my giggles at the thought of being smeared down with honey by my seven year old that I made the decision about 39.  It is going to be the best year ever.  As Little Monkey smeared cream into my face she gently told me, “Mom, if you don’t scrunch your forehead you might not notice those wrinkles.”

It’s unavoidable – isn’t it?  We get old.

My grandma, one of my most favorite people in the whole wide world, once told me that the beauty of getting old is that you stop caring about some things and think about what is important.  Now, the whole story.  She was passing on this bit of wisdom to me as she ate Cheetos out of the bag using a toothpick (so her fingers wouldn’t get cheesy)!

The wisdom stands true.

For 39 I want to care about what is important.  No crazy hair cuts for me this year.  Instead, I am going to be crazy about the important things.  It started with letting my girls smear goo on my face.  Not sure where it will go from here, but I am looking forward to seeing where JC will take it.

Yes, dear son, old people keep having birthdays.   Here’s to another year….the best yet.

 

Double the classes: Double the fun

playdoughsmileMy Chinese is still a bit rocky, but I totally understood the argument that was taking place in the halls of the orphanage on Tuesday – my first full day at the orphanage.

“She can teach art to blind kids.  My class wants art too!”

I wanted to burst out laughing at the sweet Chinese teacher who was going to bat for her kids to have art.  She and I have become good friends over the year (I taught a different class with her last semester) and now that she has moved classrooms she was advocating for me to move with her.

Only the Father could grant me so much favor and allow doors to open for me to love on the kids at the orphanage.  Teaching the three classes last semester was one of the greatest joys of my life….so I am stepping out in faith knowing 8 classes this semester will be even better.  But, I must admit (blind kids or not) I am feeling in over my head.  One of my new classes is a group of foster kids and their moms as well as community parents and their special needs children.  The special education director introduced me to the class with a smile saying, “Tammy speaks awful Chinese but she is great with our kids.”  That is a note of confidence to start a class with.  I was sweating as I looked into the eyes of the adults in the room.  It is one thing to mix up my words with a group of kids….adults make me nervous!  I soon forgot my older audience as we started playing with playdough!

The game has changed.  I now have an official printout of my class schedule just like the other teachers.  I have been invited into the break/office space the other teachers share and I am getting to know ALL of the kids at the Children’s Home.  At this rate, I joked with my husband that I will know every special needs child in our city of 2 million people!

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You know what I am learning through all of this…again.  I really love kids with disabilities!  They are the best and I am so thankful that G.d is stretching me to love more fully and deeply.  But I can’t do this alone.  Double the classes means I need double the creativity and double the energy.  I already see how G.d is providing for me to do this work through a supportive husband who is taking over the homeschooling on Tuesdays.  I also am more thankful than ever for the supplies that were brought to us this spring/summer and all of the supplies and gifts given to us while we were in the States.   The older  kids loved making paperbag puppets with googley eyes this week!

Tuesdays and Thursdays are the days I could use some extra pr@yers as I strive to love the kids well and ultimately show them a deeper more eternal love.

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Four whole years

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I have been feeling like tomorrow is a big day for us, but I was hesitant to say anything to our girl.  Maybe it is just me.

But my doubts were put to rest as Little Monkey slipped her hand in mine while walking back from the market.  “It’s been four years, right?”  she asked me abruptly.   It took me a beat to catch on to what she was referring to, but then I realized. She had been watching the calendar and processing along with me.  As I nodded she said, “You know for four whole years you have stuck with me.  Now we have been together longer than we have been a part.”

It took my breath away to hear her say those words out loud.

It is a big deal.

 

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Crazy how life can change so much in four years.  Healing has taken place, love has grown, and now it is hard to remember life without our Little Monkey.  Maybe that is why four years seems like a big deal.  We now remember more togetherness than we remember apartness.  There are more memories as a family and pre-family memories (for good or bad) have dimmed.

I will never forget meeting our daughter for the first time.  She was scared to death of us; we were the first white people she had ever seen and she later told us she thought we glowed!  Such a brave almost four year old who was led into her new life that day.  I don’t remember her tears, but I will never forget how she stared straight forward with a determined look on her grim little face.  She looked so much older than her years.

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I thought again today how she seems older than her years.  I promised her brownies to celebrate the day we became a family.  She smiled and said, “Family is the best present of all.”

This marks four years from a birth….the birth of our family as it is now.  That is the gift we are celebrating tomorrow.  Without her, without adoption, we wouldn’t know the depths of love and what family really can be.

 

 

A Magic Bean for Parenting

Can I just tell you what my eldest said during homeschool reading time this week?

We start our morning sitting around the living room reading.  Great learning moment.  Can you picture the kiddos lounging around curled up in fleece blankets coloring as they listen.  Well that happens sometimes.  Also there are mornings when I have two fighting over the same coloring book, another making such loud airplane noises I can’t hear myself think (and I am supposed to be reading) and the fourth is curled up in the fleece blanket with his back turned away from me.

Yesterday was one such morning.

I was trying to get us all back on track as I asked a question from our science reading to my son who seemed so disengaged.  “So what can you tell me about the part of our brain called the medulla?”

Without missing a beat he rolled over and with a grin replied, “I just learned that the medulla is responsible for all my involuntary reactions….like when I want to hit my sisters.”

I couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

Learning moment became even better as it evolved into a teachable moment.  Wouldn’t it be great if the medulla in addition to controlling our breathing and blinking would control our attitudes and how we treat others?

 

More than anything I want my children to learn to bring Glory to our Father by being responsible people who love and serve others.  I don’t know about you all, but I spend so much of my time and energy as a mom, striving toward that goal.  It is a maddening goal….one that I wish I could control, but know that I can’t.  You pour in hoping that it will stick, but realizing that ultimately it is up to these little people to make their own choices.  Scary.

I wish there was some list that included a silver bullet that would make our job as parents easier.  You know….10 ways to ensure your kids will become kind and responsible adults.  I have read blogs by those titles.  Yes, I do click on them….even though I know it is a bunch of whoeey.  (I made that word up.  like it?)

Let me tell you another story that stars my smarty pants eldest son.

We get two suitcases each as we travel from the States back to our home in Asia.  You can imagine the conversations we have as we decide what to include.  (With homeschool supplies I must admit the left over weight and space is minimal.)   As we unpacked our treasures at the end of our summer excursion to the States my son proudly handed me an early birthday present.  He bought me a waffle iron and put it in his carry on.  He was so excited to have such a special gift for me; he couldn’t wait until October.  “Mom,” he explained, “You don’t bring much for yourself, always packing things for our schooling, I wanted to bring something fun for you.”  As I held that waffle iron in my hands and realized how many books my reader must have taken out of his suitcase to make space for this gift….I was overwhelmed.

We now make waffles for breakfast every Monday morning.  As I pull that iron out and as we eat, I am reminded that kindness and selflessness are rooted in the heart of my pre-teen son.

There are some mornings that parenting is ‘pull your hair out’ hard.  But I am learning not to look for a magic bean that will make it easier, but to stay the course and keep reminders in front of me that progress is being made.  If I focus on the moments where I need to talk over the fighting,  if I keep count of the times I say, “We are kind and respectful to each other,” if I despair on the mornings that attitudes are bad and my goal seems so far off….then I know myself, I would quit.

Instead I am making a list of the moments that I see G0d forming the hearts of my children.  I am keeping that list in front of me as a marker of how far we have come and where we are going.