What do you call those little breath mints that come in a clear box?
According to Anna, they are "tic-tocs".
What blooms in the Spring? Flowless.
What do you call a bathtub full of water? A drink.
My Russian must be just as bad. They laugh at me, but I am silently laughing at them, too.
They are learning English very quickly.
Most nights, when I put them to bed, I practice comprehension with them, though they don't know it.
"What color is our car?"
"How many quarters in a dollar?"
"Yes or no: you put food in your nose when you eat."
We have gone through Dr. Seuss so many times, they are already losing interest in them.
I need more books with many pictures and simple words. Spoken English is progressing nicely, reading and writing are much slower. Why must English be so hard. Even reading Dr. Seuss, so many words are not pronounced like they are spelled. There are so many exceptions for common words.
I found some software to help with multiplication. Check out TimezAttack.
Last night, I had a fire in the fireplace. At midnight, it was such a nice fire, casting light and dark on the ceiling. The girls were asleep. The house was quiet. I was at peace. Not since being in Ukraine have I been so at peace. Good things happen, bad things happen. We continue to learn about them, they continue to learn about us, and what a family could be. Still so much to learn. Good thing we have years to learn all that family stuff.
Us
Monday, April 27, 2009
Friday, April 17, 2009
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Sank You
No, it isn't short for "You sunk my battleship." It's short for "Thank you."
Short, of course, because its hard to say that "th" sound when you haven't been raised with it.
The girls are learning English at the expected turbo rate. Anna being less noticeable than the others because the others always speak for her. Get her apart from her sisters and she is just as capable of in depth lively conversation. Well, sort of.
I have to wean myself off of the little Russian I'm using to make them practice a little more. In a few weeks, we will request English only at home. Not because we want them to forget their native language but because there have been some harsh words spoken between siblings and we need to intervene. We are expecting the two younger to mostly forget their Russian but I'm hoping Tanya will be able to keep hers. Our relationship is ever-growing and she trusts my judgment more and more. I may be able to encourage her to actually build her Russian skills for employment.
Oh, by the way, Boulder High gave us the cold shoulder a couple of weeks ago. The next week, some big ugly gorilla at Tanya's current school, punched her in the arm. I oscillate between feeling helpless and angry enough to call the National Guard. I just can't believe caring parents keep their new-to-the states kids in schools like these. There must be another option. I know, I should pull her out and do home school but you have to understand this wonderful teen. Honestly, she is 90% social. If I were to keep her home, I would find a shriveled shell of a girl in the space of a week. Despite the opposition, she is much happier than she was even a month ago because she has "friends." I say "friends" because they don't speak much English and nether does she. I have no idea how they communicate.
Sometime within the next few weeks, I have to sit down with one of the people from the school district and find out what Tanya needs to get a High School diploma. She has a diploma from Ukraine but Ukrainians graduate at age 16. We will give it a lot of prayer then go and see if I can talk to someone who is knowledgeable and genuinely helpful (is this possible?!). Okay, sarcasm aside, I hope they can give me good the news that Tanya really needs only one year.
For those of you who think adopting an older teen is a pain in the neck, it is. But not because the teen is a pain in the neck, Tanya is delightful, but because the system isn't prepared for them.
Short, of course, because its hard to say that "th" sound when you haven't been raised with it.
The girls are learning English at the expected turbo rate. Anna being less noticeable than the others because the others always speak for her. Get her apart from her sisters and she is just as capable of in depth lively conversation. Well, sort of.
I have to wean myself off of the little Russian I'm using to make them practice a little more. In a few weeks, we will request English only at home. Not because we want them to forget their native language but because there have been some harsh words spoken between siblings and we need to intervene. We are expecting the two younger to mostly forget their Russian but I'm hoping Tanya will be able to keep hers. Our relationship is ever-growing and she trusts my judgment more and more. I may be able to encourage her to actually build her Russian skills for employment.
Oh, by the way, Boulder High gave us the cold shoulder a couple of weeks ago. The next week, some big ugly gorilla at Tanya's current school, punched her in the arm. I oscillate between feeling helpless and angry enough to call the National Guard. I just can't believe caring parents keep their new-to-the states kids in schools like these. There must be another option. I know, I should pull her out and do home school but you have to understand this wonderful teen. Honestly, she is 90% social. If I were to keep her home, I would find a shriveled shell of a girl in the space of a week. Despite the opposition, she is much happier than she was even a month ago because she has "friends." I say "friends" because they don't speak much English and nether does she. I have no idea how they communicate.
Sometime within the next few weeks, I have to sit down with one of the people from the school district and find out what Tanya needs to get a High School diploma. She has a diploma from Ukraine but Ukrainians graduate at age 16. We will give it a lot of prayer then go and see if I can talk to someone who is knowledgeable and genuinely helpful (is this possible?!). Okay, sarcasm aside, I hope they can give me good the news that Tanya really needs only one year.
For those of you who think adopting an older teen is a pain in the neck, it is. But not because the teen is a pain in the neck, Tanya is delightful, but because the system isn't prepared for them.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
"Family" and other funny words
I keep having to reminding myself these are not foster children. There is no chance I will have to give them back. Unlike the other child visitors we have had living in our house, these girls are not going anywhere. There won't be some frenzied social worker popping in once a month to check on us and make sure I haven't sold the little darlings into hard labor or asking about the bruise on their arm. I am free to dream about the extra Christmas socks I need to make, the camping vacations this summer and of college educations no matter how unrequited those dreams may be. These girls are MINE, I tell you! And no one can take those dreams away. Now, I just have to believe it.
It is so good to see the language barrier being peeling away, day by day. Like a parent of a child learning to speak, it always delights me to hear they now know the seasons or kitchen implements or action verbs. We have been concentrating on learning our name, address and phone number in case of emergency. I found myself chanting our phone number to the beat of a rapper being played in the car as I drove Tanya to a friend's house nearby. Hey, it worked. Now she can't listen to that song without hearing our phone number. (I just hope she can remember the phone number without the song.) The spelling of the last name is another challenge, not easily mastered by any Christofferson. I'll give them more time with that one.
On the war front, I have met with the Principal of Boulder High School. Josh graduated from there. I know it to be a school that is academically excellent and very diverse culturally. Emphasis on the diversity. (I've also heard there are Russian speaking kids there.) Mind you, I didn't want to talk to the Principal, he was just kind of in the way while I was waiting to talk to someone else. They are never positive, those principals. The assistants are always more accommodating.
"I'm not running a babysitting service," says the Principal.
"I don't see why she can't come," says the Assistant Principal.
"There are only six weeks left," says the Principal.
"Sounds like she could use the connection," says the Assistant.
All that said, the assistant still has to talk to the grouch to get his final approval. I got on line after returning home. I found a name in the staff that I recognized. There was a particularly helpful counselor at Josh's middle school that is now a counselor at Boulder High. I shot her off an e-mail with our story. I should know by the end of the week if my efforts were in vain . . .
It is so good to see the language barrier being peeling away, day by day. Like a parent of a child learning to speak, it always delights me to hear they now know the seasons or kitchen implements or action verbs. We have been concentrating on learning our name, address and phone number in case of emergency. I found myself chanting our phone number to the beat of a rapper being played in the car as I drove Tanya to a friend's house nearby. Hey, it worked. Now she can't listen to that song without hearing our phone number. (I just hope she can remember the phone number without the song.) The spelling of the last name is another challenge, not easily mastered by any Christofferson. I'll give them more time with that one.
On the war front, I have met with the Principal of Boulder High School. Josh graduated from there. I know it to be a school that is academically excellent and very diverse culturally. Emphasis on the diversity. (I've also heard there are Russian speaking kids there.) Mind you, I didn't want to talk to the Principal, he was just kind of in the way while I was waiting to talk to someone else. They are never positive, those principals. The assistants are always more accommodating.
"I'm not running a babysitting service," says the Principal.
"I don't see why she can't come," says the Assistant Principal.
"There are only six weeks left," says the Principal.
"Sounds like she could use the connection," says the Assistant.
All that said, the assistant still has to talk to the grouch to get his final approval. I got on line after returning home. I found a name in the staff that I recognized. There was a particularly helpful counselor at Josh's middle school that is now a counselor at Boulder High. I shot her off an e-mail with our story. I should know by the end of the week if my efforts were in vain . . .
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Don't Mess With Mama (Bear)
I like to think that I'm something of a quiet, gentle, people-pleasing sort of person. The kind of person who has more patience than most. One who counts carefully the cost of making trouble before making it. I try very hard not to use the "L" word (lawyer) flippantly. Honest!
I will put up with a great deal of abuse at the hands of the uncouth. But my friends, don't even think about messing with my kids. I will know. Some cosmic force in this otherwise unyielding universe has allowed mothers of all makes to have superhuman-I'm-going-to-permanently-maim-you-if-you-touch-my-kid focus and drive that overcomes me, like all healthy mothers. It's like the peripheral vision is lessened and destruction of the offensive object becomes the soul desire. I often yield.
I called the principal of the school last Friday and made my complaint known. My daughter, new to this grand country of ours is not given equal opportunity to learn in a system that is paid for in part by my (husband's) hard earned dollar! I would like (1) a student handbook in her language, (2) a translator for perhaps a week, to help her understand the culture and rules of the classroom and (3) a little more understanding of her situation by her teachers!
I checked school policy. The school district is obligated to provide a translator to parents to help them understand school policy, grades, and conferences. They are provided with a school handbook in their language to assist them in helping their child adjust. (I was given a handbook two weeks after my daughter began attending classes.)
The principal patiently heard my complaint. I thought I was exceedingly controlled under the circumstances. She promised she would call the district and see what could be done.
I received a call yesterday. She told me she voiced my complaint to the district, she was sorry they could not grant my request.
As my hero Bugs Bunny would say, "You know, this means war."
I asked for a name. She gave me one.
After the steam subsided from my ears and my face returned to its original God-created color, I called "Jorge." Once again, I forced myself to unheard of highs in personal control. My voice steady, I told him my problem and hopes to help my daughter who was being treated unkindly by a school district that I knew, had better standards.
He told me the principal of Ann's school had said I wanted a private tutor for her.
What?!
I said nothing of the sort. You can go back and read it for yourself. Its right up there in the second paragraph.
Now that odd remark implies a great deal. It could mean that the principal misunderstood me. That would be obvious. It could mean she was ashamed of her school and was trying to cover. Or it could mean she just wanted to blow me off. Or Jorge misunderstood her.
At any rate, Jorge was a dear. He was quiet and thoughtful for a time. Then he said, perhaps the school district could purchase a translator gadget (does anyone know of a good inexpensive one?), provide the handbook in her language and hire a translator (in person) for maybe part of a day.
"Lets keep in touch," he said. ""Are your other daughters doing well?"
"Yes, thank you."
The razor sharp claws involuntarily retracted.
Humph, we will see.
I will put up with a great deal of abuse at the hands of the uncouth. But my friends, don't even think about messing with my kids. I will know. Some cosmic force in this otherwise unyielding universe has allowed mothers of all makes to have superhuman-I'm-going-to-permanently-maim-you-if-you-touch-my-kid focus and drive that overcomes me, like all healthy mothers. It's like the peripheral vision is lessened and destruction of the offensive object becomes the soul desire. I often yield.
I called the principal of the school last Friday and made my complaint known. My daughter, new to this grand country of ours is not given equal opportunity to learn in a system that is paid for in part by my (husband's) hard earned dollar! I would like (1) a student handbook in her language, (2) a translator for perhaps a week, to help her understand the culture and rules of the classroom and (3) a little more understanding of her situation by her teachers!
I checked school policy. The school district is obligated to provide a translator to parents to help them understand school policy, grades, and conferences. They are provided with a school handbook in their language to assist them in helping their child adjust. (I was given a handbook two weeks after my daughter began attending classes.)
The principal patiently heard my complaint. I thought I was exceedingly controlled under the circumstances. She promised she would call the district and see what could be done.
I received a call yesterday. She told me she voiced my complaint to the district, she was sorry they could not grant my request.
As my hero Bugs Bunny would say, "You know, this means war."
I asked for a name. She gave me one.
After the steam subsided from my ears and my face returned to its original God-created color, I called "Jorge." Once again, I forced myself to unheard of highs in personal control. My voice steady, I told him my problem and hopes to help my daughter who was being treated unkindly by a school district that I knew, had better standards.
He told me the principal of Ann's school had said I wanted a private tutor for her.
What?!
I said nothing of the sort. You can go back and read it for yourself. Its right up there in the second paragraph.
Now that odd remark implies a great deal. It could mean that the principal misunderstood me. That would be obvious. It could mean she was ashamed of her school and was trying to cover. Or it could mean she just wanted to blow me off. Or Jorge misunderstood her.
At any rate, Jorge was a dear. He was quiet and thoughtful for a time. Then he said, perhaps the school district could purchase a translator gadget (does anyone know of a good inexpensive one?), provide the handbook in her language and hire a translator (in person) for maybe part of a day.
"Lets keep in touch," he said. ""Are your other daughters doing well?"
"Yes, thank you."
The razor sharp claws involuntarily retracted.
Humph, we will see.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Routine?
I don't think so. It still feels like fruit basket upset. 'Course its been only 2 1/2 weeks since we have been home . . .
Then Josh announced last weekend that he is getting married!!! OMG! We are so happy. We love Sarah and are looking forward to the wedding in July. I'll try and get a photo out soon. I had zero daughters in January, now I have 4!
The two younger girls are adjusting well to their classes with gentle and gracious teachers. Tanya (alias 'Ann') is having something akin to a nightmare amidst the "fairytale" she is experiencing here. She loves America and called it 'like a fairytale,' but her school is like a reformed school for thugs. They have made no effort to understand her incredible life change and are far more concerned with her minor rule infractions than with making her feel comfortable and encouraged. I haven't been asked about a way to communicate with her in her language (like google translation on line) but they become infuriated when she tries to call an interpreter for help. Ann has called home in tears on more than one occasion in frustration and she has only been there for two weeks! Even Anna and Sophia have not been treated this way and they have also been in error of not knowing and so breaking the rules. Have others found this to be true of other Newcomer schools? Hey, welcome to America. You must be completely uncultured, uneducated and a hardened criminal. Yes, I have some forgiving to do.
Needless to say, I'm aggressively looking into other options. Let me know if you are aware of any. So far I'm leaning heavily toward a private school.
Then Josh announced last weekend that he is getting married!!! OMG! We are so happy. We love Sarah and are looking forward to the wedding in July. I'll try and get a photo out soon. I had zero daughters in January, now I have 4!
The two younger girls are adjusting well to their classes with gentle and gracious teachers. Tanya (alias 'Ann') is having something akin to a nightmare amidst the "fairytale" she is experiencing here. She loves America and called it 'like a fairytale,' but her school is like a reformed school for thugs. They have made no effort to understand her incredible life change and are far more concerned with her minor rule infractions than with making her feel comfortable and encouraged. I haven't been asked about a way to communicate with her in her language (like google translation on line) but they become infuriated when she tries to call an interpreter for help. Ann has called home in tears on more than one occasion in frustration and she has only been there for two weeks! Even Anna and Sophia have not been treated this way and they have also been in error of not knowing and so breaking the rules. Have others found this to be true of other Newcomer schools? Hey, welcome to America. You must be completely uncultured, uneducated and a hardened criminal. Yes, I have some forgiving to do.
Needless to say, I'm aggressively looking into other options. Let me know if you are aware of any. So far I'm leaning heavily toward a private school.
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