Holding Still

plastic blows and handsome devils

Please check out this link about plastic bags.  And then go to reusablebags.com and go get yourself some!

And then look at the cutest little ring-bearers you ever did see!

sorry for the lack of posts

As for most, the summer has kept us occupied.  Between camp, visitors, eating, sleeping and my brother's wedding this coming weekend, we've been busy.  

We've made some changes to our days which seem to have helped the boys have fewer conflicts.  Basically, every morning before Al and I totally awoke, H and L would play together in their room with Legos, drawing supplies, etc.  Every morning we would be forced out of bed by L crying "Habtam no!  Stop it!  I no like that!"  Um, probably these phrases would be repeated 15-20 times a minute.  We would enter their room to find H stony-faced while L sobbed in frustration over a taken toy, a push off the bed, or 3 Legos to H's 103.  

Every day H's chart would be all happy faces -- except for the early morning section.  I began to separate them as soon as I heard the first cries of injustice.  No punishment, no chidings, just asked them to play in separate rooms.  Quiet.  After 2 days of this, we decided to ask H (who wakes up a full 45 minutes before L most days) to go into the extra room we have as soon as he awoke.  There are toys in there, books, drawing supplies, and writing supplies.  We've been doing this for almost a week now, and the mornings are quiet, the boys are happy to see one another after their early morning apart (what you do, Habtam?  Cool!  See what I make?  Good job, Lire!"), and Al and I can sleep an extra 45 minutes or so!  

Another change is that we give H simple writing exercises in the mornings.  He practices writing his letters and copying new words.  He really likes it and it seems to focus him like nothing else.  Even more than drawing, which he has been off of for a few months.  H is a basically practical person who likes for the things that he does to be for a purpose.  He knows that letters make words, and that words create the books that we read.  Writing is more grown-up, as well, in his eyes.

I'm not sure how long it will last, but for now the peace is very encouraging.  Both boys can have time to play/create without competition, to have a successful and quiet morning before breakfast and the rest of their day.  And we get to sleep more. 

Phew!

And now for their latest album cover:  

And the liner image (for those of you who actually remember albums...

up in the air

It's been a little more interesting around here than I'd care for it to be.  I LOVE summer -- beaching, wearing very little clothing, barefoot walking, corn on the cob, etc.  However, working at the camp definitely puts a bit of a damper on the usual slothfulness I'm used to.  Oh, and having two kids.  

I'm actually enjoying myself at camp these days.  I'm at the point I remember many moons ago when I worked with wee ones in nyc:  Falling for the little people who independently motor around the early childhood room, yogurt smeared on their faces, toys employed for a totally different purpose than intended.  The way they move into magical thinking like that -- poof!  "We are all baby turtles hiding in our shells!"

What I didn't anticipate was how bittersweet it would feel.  The joy of getting to know someone so little, so interesting was one of my favorite perks of the job.  Feeling one way about a child the first few weeks, and then slowly watching as he/she opened up to you, their teacher.  Realizing how special that little person is!

I'm discovering all of the campers' quirky personality traits and enjoying it immensely.  The hard part is that I don't think I ever got to feel that with my older son.  There has been so much struggle all along, that the intimate surprises were overshadowed by doubt and concern.  What makes it that much more difficult is that with our younger guy, it did happen, and still happens daily.

I realize that this is all me.  He doesn't know, or even care, what my expectations of our relationship are.  He's trying to make it one day at a time, trying to find his place in our family, in the world.  I try to remember the students I had who didn't make it easy for me.  I learned a lot from them, of course.  I know that H will help me to learn new ways to communicate, new ways to respond.  

I missed a great deal of H's early childhood, which becomes more apparent as we discover that he is indeed significantly older than we were told.  He was never my baby, my toddler, or my three-year old.  His 6 year molars came in over the winter and he lost his first tooth this week, with two more loose ones ready to fall. I think he is still confused about all of our roles in the family.  We are having a tough time helping him relax into being a kid.  I think he thinks of himself as an adult, one of us.

Summer camp is fun for him, but he's having problems relating which he didn't have so much in school.  Probably because it is much less structured and there is little quiet time.  Fortunately it only goes to one, and then we have enforced quiet time at our house.  Then all four of us do something together, and we ease into the evening and bedtime.

Not sure how to end this one.  Everything is still up in the air, so I guess I'll end it that way.  Wish us luck on fitting our puzzle family together.      

 

camp, behavior and book

I'm getting more used to being camp counselor Erin.  Still not a long-term career plan for me, but it'll do for the next two months.  The kids are getting used to the routine, as am I and my teen/young adult counselors.  I'm still fine-tuning our structure (transition times, getting in line to go to activities (3 year olds don't do lines, btw), specific jobs for the counselors), but things are easier.  Only one angry parent who withdrew her child, but it was the best thing for the child, who wasn't nearly ready to be here, and was just barely 3, too.

Habtam loves camp, though apparently he's been having a hard time listening and has been jostling to be first at all costs.  That is "line leader" to you seasoned teacher-types.  He is a competitive person, and always wants to be first.  We're working on it, but it is so instinctive to him, he can't seem to stop before he pushes his way forward.  And I think there are one or two kids who are equally competitive and they are all kicking and pushing one another.  

Ah, boys.  This is a big issue in my eyes because I remember teaching in the public school system.  I remember that those kids who pushed and kicked were always in trouble, you didn't necessarily want to play with them, and they were generally the first to be blamed when things went wrong.  If those kids also happened to be black, well, it was even worse for them.  Al and I have been working with H to slow down, think before striking out, using words to solve problems, not muscle.  It does not come easily to him.  He isn't one to strike out at someone for no reason -- his reasons may not be rational to us, but to him they serve his perceived justice or injustice.  He really wants to learn, to have fun, to make friends.  I am concerned that his sense of the injustice of things (why can't I be first, does he have more than I do, he/she should give that toy to me, now) will harm his abilities to fully realize his simple kid dreams.  Any thoughts?  The chart is till in use, btw.  When he is being rational, I allow him to decide if he will get a sad or happy face.  He chooses fairly, and is honest (most of the time!) when he's not been behaving appropriately.  He did try to implicate Lire in the debacle of spitting gargling water all over the floor.  It came out in the end that Lire hadn't spit that particular time.  Other times, yes.

One last aside.  I'm reading  Held at a Distance:  My Rediscovery of Ethiopia by Rebecca Haile.  I highly (Haile) recommend it (hee, hee).  She was born and lived in Ethiopia until about the age of ten, when her father's political work almost lost him his life.  This is a dramatic recounting early on in the book.  Their entire family eventually moved to the US, where she grew up, returning to Ethiopia 25 years later.  I'm about half way through, and am glad to have found it.  It includes personal musings, Ethiopian history (ancient, Christian and contemporary), culture, politics and social policies.  I'm liking it very much.  She has a familiar way of writing which makes you feel like you're listening to a friend discussing all of these intense and complicated issues.

Real hou$ewives -- now with piglets!

I am bone-tired.  I'm afraid my blogging will slow down considerably (more than usual!) this summer.  Summer camp is kicking my butt.  omg.  What was I thinking?

19 (now 17) Three year old munchkins with minds of their own (shame on them!), running hither and thither while I and my trusty counselors (some of whom are teens) attempt to make sense of the child who swears he DOES NOT NEED TO PEE, and then.  Well.  He pees.  In his pants.  "Are they wet?" he asks.  "Yes, I believe so."

Habtam is so very happy that there is no way I can leave, even though I want to run away so very badly.  He builds birdhouses and airplanes, swims, watches crazy Shakespeare snippets, plays drums, basketball and soccer, etc, etc.  So I pretend this is part of my spiritual development.  Patience.  Smiling even when I want to scream.  Leading another round of "Skinna-marink-a-dink" even when sweat is pooling in that area of one's chest between the girls, ready to stream south into my innie.  

Enough of my complaining.  Next up.  Do you guys remember Real Housewives of New York City?  Well, guess who I saw at the beach today?  The Counte$$!  We watched in fascination as she attempted to enter the ocean.  I say attempted because our curiously dressed H. was throwing himself into the froth, edging closer and closer to her, squealing in delight, as his younger brother tossed sand into the air a few feet further on.  H. has a perforated eardrum, so he wears a silicone plug which is further covered by an ear bandit (great invention, though not so much when he tries to dive).  He is a sight.

She actually moved, because apparently the ocean isn't large enough for all of us.  She walked around the back of us, stared at me as she passed, and entered the ocean up-wave from us.  I wondered if she was glaring because I had my bermudas rolled up to unsuccessfully attempt to keep my shorts dry.  Or maybe she just didn't like that my boys were so very excited and happy and interfering with her dip?  Or it could have been nothing at all.  Maybe she always looks like that.  I only watched the episodes that took place here, so I didn't get much of a read on her.

So that's my celebrity gossip for the day.  There may be more to come, if last summer is any indication.  Oh you know, last summer we had two celebrities in our music class with us.  That's it.  No more info.  You can't get it out of me.

If you don't hear from me in a while, it's because I am either comatose, sipping tea and staring blankly, or sleeping while having anxiety dreams about losing control of my summer camp ship.

For your viewing pleasure:  Piglets, c-dog and the boys, who've grown so very big.

frogs, pigs and homeopathy, oh my!

I've alluded in the past to homeopathy and alternative medicine here and there on my blog.  In my own health experience I've used allopathic (western meds) and the alternative paths.  But I do try to utilize the least invasive treatment first and then use stronger stuff when warranted.  My MIL is a homeopath, so I've learned a lot from her, and I've learned a lot from treating myself and all of the rare, strange and peculiar symptoms my illness caused me.  I don't know what I would do without it, and I feel lucky that I have an alternative to Ibuprofen, e.g., if I've got a headache, and that I knew to use arnica before and after my nasal surgery to help with swelling and bleeding.  I amazed the nurses at the hospital when the spurting fount of blood from my nose stopped immediately with my arnica.

I am NOT a homeopath, nor do I pretend to know very much at all, really.  But I have discovered a remedy that helps Habtam SO MUCH with his impulsivity, competitiveness, and anger.  When he was having so much trouble with his fillings falling out, infected gums, and pain, we had to suspend his behavioral remedy and use the arnica daily to help him deal and heal.  Between two fillings and two mini-root canals, it took almost 3 weeks before we could give him his regular remedy again.  And then he caught a summer cold, so we had to interrupt it AGAIN for about a week or so.  A tough month all around for the poor guy.  

So finally we have been able to give him his "happy medicine," as we call it, without interruption.  Ahhh....

I keep track of his behavior using a simple chart of happy and sad faces.  Today I looked at the last two weeks and saw how his behavior fluctuated according to when he had taken his remedy.  Pretty amazing.  Three tough days, no smiley faces.  Remedy given on third tough evening.  Five straight days of Happy faces.  A bad day, a good day, a bad day, remedy repeated.  Three straight days thus far of Happy faces.  It seems to last about five days, then starts to yo-yo, until we repeat the remedy.  I've noticed this for a long time, I just hadn't been charting it, so it's semi-Scientific.

Homeopathy is pretty complicated, and you do have to be interested in it to prescribe for oneself, but there are good homeopaths out there who can help you with the more complicated stuff.  My MIL actually didn't prescribe this remedy, I found it myself, while reading an issue of Homeopathy Today which specifically dealt with adoption and behavior.  It described a child who appeared to come to choices as if with an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other, like in the cartoons.  His mom described that he invariably chose the inappropriate one.  This is what struck me in regards to H.  We could really see him grappling with the choices between behaviors.  He didn't seem to be able to make a good choice.  He would invariably bite off his nose to spite his face.

Well, I found the remedy and ordered it in various strengths.  It was great.  It was so easy.  And he appreciated it so much.  He started to ask for it, telling us that his brain "didn't work."  I don't know how long he'll need it, or if we'll have to change remedies some day when/if it stops working for him.  What I do know is that it doesn't have any side effects, it allows him to focus, to make better decisions, and to be a happier, gentler person.  I'm not saying it's a miracle and that there isn't any more weird or unwise behaviors.  Because there are!  But he seems to have more control, and that is what he needs.  

I just thought I'd post about the trends I've noticed with H's behavior.  And give a plug for homeopathy, of course.  The remedy he responds to is called anacardium.  It comes from a nut, I think.  No two people necessarily respond to the same remedy because there are so many aspects to choosing the right one.  So anacardium isn't necessarily the right remedy for every impulsive kid.  It's just what works for H right now.

Below are some artworks by our focused boys.  We spent about an hour drawing together.  The first is by Habtam and is of a frog catching a fly.  The second is by Lire.  It's of a mommy pig and a mommy bird feeding their piglets.  Yes.  The mommy bird is feeding piglets, too.  We know a farmer who lets us visit his sows and piglets, and the image has always thrilled little Lire.  He tried to say later that it was ME who was feeding the piglets.  He meant it as a compliment, believe me!  There is no higher calling to Lire than feeding a baby milk from one's breasts.  He is still personally affronted that boys can't do it.

   

 

scooters and surfers

The chart has been working for Habtam, and vice-versa.  He told me today that he always wants to have a chart, because it helps his "brain work better."  I think one of the things that helps is seeing the smiles and sad faces and being able to remember why he earned them in the first place.  He's able to go back to earlier in the day and discuss his behavior and its repercussions (hurt feelings, hurt brother, wet mother, etc.).

That's not to say that it's been bump-less.  On the second day of the chart's reinstatement, H took the keys to the scooter out of the drawer, inserted them into the ignition, turned said ignition and began to beep the scooter's horn.  He was with my MIL who was innocently washing the dishes while Lire chatted with her.  She had told H she would finish up and then they would play, so he should play a while on his own while he waited.  Which, I guess he did, just with an inappropriate toy.  She and Lire heard the horn and thought he was just beeping it -- thing is, one cannot beep the horn without the key inserted and turned.  Al was just returning from an errand when he came upon this unfortunate turn of events. Al sent H to me in the main house for a "big time-out."  

That was not his best day.  He misses the routine of school, and hadn't had his regular homeopathic remedy in about a month because of his gum and tooth issues.  We had had to interrupt that remedy for one particular to gum swelling (arnica).  Finally, on Thursday he had his remedy, and we can see his brain slow down, his impulses interrupted by second thoughts, and a more peaceful H.  Hold breath.

The first day of camp is tomorrow, which will be great for him.  I'm nervous about it, since I haven't worked in a "classroom" setting in a while.  Though this is camp, so it won't be traditional or as structured.  Still, I'll have 19-20 tiny charges and counselors to whom to delegate.  I can't believe I still get nervous about new jobs.  You'd think I'd get used to it, being such a job-hopper.

In other, sadder news, the 20-something son of an old friend of Al's family committed suicide this week.  It has blown the community's heart apart, I can tell you.  This morning we went to the beach with the boys to beat the humidity.  Arriving alongside us were cars, jeeps and trucks filled with surfers.  The young man was an avid surfer, so we watched as they held a memorial service for him on the beach.  Other friends and his parents and siblings were there, maybe a hundred people.

It was incredibly moving to watch as the young men and a few young women took their boards out into the ocean together -- I'm not sure how many, maybe 30 or so.  They carried a beautiful arrangement of flowers and local fauna with them and tossed them out into the waves once they were far out.  His parents watched and hugged one another tightly.  Al and I tried to keep our tears from the boys, who were happily digging holes by the waterside.  At the end, t hey all surfed in, one or two at a time.  It was one of the most beautiful memorial services I've witnessed.  

Alex and Lire will be going to the service at the local church tomorrow while H and I do camp.  Sorry to leave you with something so sad.  But it was a wonderful ritual for the parents.  I could see how grateful they were to see so many people who had cared for their boy.   

To lighten things, I'll leave you with a photo of Chauncey sitting at my work table.  This window has the best bird/squirrel watching, apparently.  

bottoms up

Sorry for the butt shot.  It's not the most flattering photo of my bottom half, but we were having a good time -- yoga bringing the family together.  Note Chauncey upon my work table.  He's looking for squirrels, his arch-enemies.

I had my first three days of summer camp orientation this week.  On Monday we start for real.  Today the campers and their parents were able to come for an open house to meet all the counselors and see our amazing digs (it would make you cry, it's so lovely).  That means that Habtam came with Dad and Lire to meet his counselors, see his room, check out the grounds and see SO MANY KIDS!  I could tell he was in heaven.  He really likes to be amongst a bunch of kids.  Lire, too, but especially H.  It's a very free and easy place with the ability to run around and not get lost or hurt easily, so it was nice for me to see him racing about, happy with the world.  

I met most of my 19 charges and their parents.  Only one chilly, limp-wristed handshake was had (hey, turn off the ac, biatch!).  Luckily most of the parents were sensible, kind people.  The counselors working under me are absolutely terrific.  I lucked out.  Since I'm new, I think the director purposely gave me experienced counselors, some of whom are former campers themselves.  The staff is much more diverse than the clientele, which I was expecting.  This school (it's an alternative/hippy/liberal private school during the rest of the year) makes a point of recruiting staff from all walks of life.  There are three head counselors who are African, another African-American, two of Asian descent, a number of people who are Hispanic, and then all of us Caucs.  The clientele are mostly wealthy Manhattan kids whose parents or grandparents summer out here.  The campers are not as diverse as anyone around here would like, but the staff is, and for that I am grateful. 

I was telling H that three of the counselors were from Africa, like he was.  He appeared interested, but didn't say anything.  We have been talking about Ethiopia again lately, usually combined with questions about family relationships.  The other day I was on the phone chatting with my mom.  I hung up after saying "bye Mom!"  Habtam asked me why I called Nana "Mom."  He's asked this before, so I repeated that she was my mother.  

H:  Why is she your mother?

me:  (deep breath) well, Nana carried me in her uterus until I was born, and then she took care of me until I was a grown-up.  Do you remember who carried you in her uterus?

H:  You?

me:  Nooo...

H:  (His name for their first mom)

me:  Right.  So she was your mother, and she took care of you as long as she was able.  And now I am taking care of you, right?

H:  Right. (begins to jump on his bed)

me:  So I'm your mother, too.

Lire:  You my mommy, too!

H:  Will I go back there visit?

me:  Yes, when you get older, we'd like to take you and Lire to Ethiopia again.  Would you like that?

H:  (Jumps on bed, no answer)

Lire:  Yes, I go Ethiopia!  (also jumping on bed)

The jumping got out of hand, as usual, with all of us jumping on Lire's bed and holding hands.  I had to jump ship to keep H and L from dragging me into their too-physical-for-me game of banging bodies against the wall.

And that's how a lot of stuff gets discussed around here.  Catch as catch can,  with a side of physical comedy and/or violence.

 

hello darkness my old friend...

Lack of school is proving to be difficult for a certain someone in our household.  Actually for both boys, just one's behavior is easier to manage than the other.

Being a preschool veteran, I played around with behavior charts a couple of months after the boys arrived home with us.  It worked really well helping them to learn our routines:  waking up, having breakfast, clearing our plates, playing and cleaning up, brushing teeth, getting ready for bed, etc.  They liked the charts a lot, and when they were able, began to talk about it and helped us make the smiley/sad faces on it.  Once things started going smoother, routine-wise, I focused on different behaviors (Lire not waking Habtamu up at 5 am, Habtam using gentle hands).

Anyway.  The chart, which is a large dry-erase board, had been disbanded and used as a fun drawing surface for the guys.  No longer.  Unfortunately, we've had to reinstate a chart for Habtam.  Oddly enough, he seemed relieved by the whole thing.  He is someone who requires structure, likes concrete and consistent rules (though he bucks against them like a goat), and is visual.  I think the very visualness of the chart, with the ability to concretely see his behavior throughout the day, helps him consider his choices.  Maybe I'm giving the chart too much credit, but he responds to it. 

The day is divided into three sections --- morning, afternoon and evening.  Each section has three time periods within, and we check back with one another throughout the day to see how he's been doing.  We use simple sad and happy faces to illustrate it, and at the end of the day, if he's got enough smiles, he gets a sticker.  If there are enough stickers at the end of the week, we'll talk about a privilege, a toy returned, etc.  Are you tired reading about it?  I'm tired just thinking about it.

The difference this year to last is that H and his Dad and I can talk about his behavior, his choices, and his feelings SO much better.  Of course, it also means that H can tell me and Lire how much he hates us, that Lire is stupid, and he never wants to talk to us again!  More sophisticated expressions of anger.  Sigh.

I'm not sure if Lire is responding to H's renewed misbehavior or the loss of the school structure, but he is regressing a bit.  It takes the form of him making baby cooing sounds, attempting to suck on our fingers, and needing to be held more.  Fortunately, he bounces back quickly, and if we allow him to act out being a baby, he reverts back to his old self within minutes.

Very much looking forward to camp starting next week for H, that's all I can say.  I'm going to be working half-days at the same camp, but with the 3 year olds, so H will have his own space, his own experiences and I'll just happen to be nearby.

wish us luck!

 

more books

Here are some more books we like, and own.  All were gifts from my good friend, M, except Trouble, which I bought used on Amazon.  They are regular, repeated reading for the boys.  I highly recommend them to anyone, not just for kids of African descent.  They are really fun stories with captivating illustrations.  

Catch That Goat! by Polly Alakija:  The boys really like this one.  It's a counting book hidden inside a short tale of a mischievous goat who makes off with various items from a Nigerian market.  Ayoka is the little girl who is supposed to be goat-sitting for her mother, but spends all of her time asking her neighbors at the market if they've seen her goat.  The boys love counting the items left from the goat's looting and looking for traces of the goat -- kicking hooves, e.g.  A very comical book.

Mama Panya's Pancakes by Mary Chamberlin:  Definitely a fave at our house.  We have yet to make the pancakes in the recipe in the back, but we will.  This story follows Adika and his mom as they go to market to spend the few coins they have for ingredients for pancakes.  Mom worries because Adika invites so many friends to join them for supper -- will there be enough?  However, Adika's instincts prove correct when each guest brings something along to contribute to the feast and there is "a little bit, and a little bit more."  

The boys LOVE this one.  It takes place in Kenya, and at the end there is an illustration of a village and the elements within (trees, houses, animals, etc.).  Like most kids, they are fascinated with sharing (though they don't like to do it much!), and I'm sure the familiarity of the imagery (the houses look a lot like the house the boys grew up in, and of course, the characters are African) makes it a regular bedtime staple.  I really like the illustrations and the way the language flows in a sing-song way.  A pleasure to read aloud.

Running the Road to ABC by Denize Lauture  This one is a little old for our guys yet -- I think they'll get it more in a year or so.  However, they LOVE the illustrations and the story of the boys and girls running to school in the early morning hours, shoeless.  Habtam remembers that the kids in his village walked a long way to school.  He was too young to go himself, but he remembers that it was a special thing, and takes school very seriously.  This boy misses school, big time.  

The story takes place in Haiti, and the illustrations and poetic style follow the kids as they begin from their village homes, run through town, and finally arrive at school to learn another letter, another word, on the road to abc.

Trouble by Jane Kurtz:  this one takes place in Eritrea, a neighbor to Ethiopia.  It's a circular tale of a boy named Tekleh who always seems to find trouble.  We follow him throughout a day as he shepherds his goats (almost as mischievous as he is), meeting people, gaining and losing possessions, eating and sharing, and finally coming home to his family, who think he's just been out grazing the goats.  Silly parents!

Once again, I think the illustrations hit home with our guys, especially Habtamu, who remembers more of his life pre-the US.  This is the only book I've read by Jane Kurtz, but she has written quite a few that take place in Ethiopia and Eritrea, having lived there as a child with her family.

Have fun reading!