November topics

We are so thankful! (And grateful to the Beyars, for the tree idea.) Danya painted the tree on old IKEA bookshelf-package paper. And we used to useless leaves I can't help but gather each fall. Each evening, we wrote what we were thankful for on a leaf, and glued it to the tree. Some of my favorites:
Snow
Great Grandma's successful surgery
Karate Kid
Pizza
This leaf
[drawing of exercise equipment at preschool gym]
God answered my prayer.
(The prayer was for another chance to use the exercise equipment! Three gym classes in a row, Tima was delighted to try it all out.)

After first big snow, we played for over an hour at Danya's school. Although the cell-phone picture doesn't have a wide field, you can see groups of kids all over the place, each rolling up huge snow balls. It was a fun time with friends and the blessing of snow.

Daddy's home--and here's a package! The kids were shocked to see what was inside.

"Is it real?" asked Ella.

"Will it live in this box," asked Tima.

"A hamster!" cried Danya

Welcome home, Pumpkin Pie! This is our new guinea pig. She came to us on Thanksgiving, and the kids are delighted to have their first pet. She is still pretty skittish, but likes being held. It's fun to feed her--she eats a lot of hay, oat grass and carrot peels. The kids are pretty skittish still, too. They don't like how sharp her claws are, and are scared of squeezing her too hard, or of letting her go. Ella mostly loves to run screaming away, crying, "Mama, it's an emergency!" --which doesn't help anyone calm down!

The Humbling Clinic

Just when I start to feel comfortable...

Yesterday, we went to the policlinic to get Tima's TB test checked. And today we were back, to get Ella's 'medical pass'. I have no idea how to translate the справка that we need to get her back in preschool after missing more than three days. Her cold is almost gone, so I attempted to get our first 'medical pass'.

Leaving plenty of time to walk there, change shoes and hang up coats, we gather our things:
Empty Notebook to start Ella's public clinic medical records-check
copy of American doctors' notes - check
photocopy of American immunization records - extra credit
Clean slippers for Ella - check
Blue plastic covers for adult shoes- check
330 rubles to pay cash for the visit - check
diversions for Ella as we wait in the corridor - check
...and we were off.

For eight years now, I've been taking my children to Russian or Ukrainian medical clinics. I feel like I've got it down. Yesterday, I finally wrote down the name and hours of our doctor. Each section of the city is assigned a doctor; We live in the 11th section for the 76th children's policlinic. Our doctor is in about four hours each day, but at different times. There are no appointments.

We walk into the crowded corridor and I take a deep breath. Loudly exposing my foreign accent, I ask, "Who is last for 204?"

After the initial stares from each person along the corridor, someone answers, "We are." But then another woman asks, "Before twelve or after?" Because our doctor will come into the office and replace the former occupant at twelve. I am relieved to say I'm early, not late. And only one teenage girl is ahead of us in the 'after twelve' verbal line. Ella sits down with me, and is delighted I brought her notebook and markers. I open my magazine, giddy with success.

A few minutes later, a newcomer asks, "Who is last for 203?" With a shot of adrenaline, I remember that you are not secure in the verbal line until you have someone behind you. I've relaxed too early! But that's not our doctor's office. So I'm alert each time a new person walks up, until I can answer, "We are." And then, I am safe--hemmed in behind and before. I can talk with Ella, read my magazine, talk with the teenager (who is reading "Twilight" on her tiny iPod in English.) and relax. We are early, second in line, and it's all going to work out. I have figured out the system!

The doctor comes 15 minutes late. I'm a little anxious, as we need to leave to pick up Tima in just 20 more minutes. After a few moments, she opens the door and asks who is first. The teenager stands up. But the doctor says, "Don't you have a baby?"
"No," the shy girl answers.
"Well, I was expecting a woman with a baby."
At this point a woman a few back (in the verbal line) picks up her baby and walks into the office. The doctor closes the door. The teenager sits back down. I look around, alarmed, and ask the woman across the hall what it's all about. "Today is immunization day for healthy kids, so all the babies need a quick check before their shots."

Two babies later, I realize we aren't going to see the doctor today. But when I stand up to leave, the teenager says we can go in front of her. We wait five more minutes, because if we leave today, we'll have to do all of this again tomorrow, and Ella won't be able to go to preschool until we get the medical pass. But, I know Tima is already sad that I'll pick him up late, and now we're heading into really late. How to weigh extending his emotional day at preschool against my desire to not return to this clinic tomorrow? So, we go downstairs, get our things from the coat check, change into boots, pack up our bags, unlock the stroller and walk home.

Ella starts to cry, "Why didn't the doctor check me?" And I feel like crying, too. Forty-five minutes, plus twenty minutes walking there and back, and it feels like a waste. I scheduled our whole morning around getting to that clinic early enough to be out of there in time. And I have no idea what we'll do tomorrow.

And I feel a little angry--at the women with babies, for jumping the 'line' (though they were invited to, of course). And at myself, for not claiming my 'multi-child-family' right to jump the line (who's jumping-the-line rights are stronger, anyway?)

And really, I just hate not knowing how to get a medical pass. (The consensus among those around me was that I could have gone to any available doctor, not just our assigned pediatrician, and perhaps even at any time of the day. But when I asked at the information desk, they told me we had to go to our doctor according to the schedule.) Suddenly, I'm humbled again, an outsider trying to figure out this system (which I know is confusing and frustrating sometimes for Russian moms, too!)

So, tomorrow the doctor's hours start at 4pm. I'm hoping to get Ella up early from her nap, be first in line, and finish by the time Danya gets dropped off after soccer at 4:30. Anyone want to take bets on whether or not we get the справка?

Cousins!

This last week we had the privilege of a visit from my sister, Dani, and her husband, Dave, with their three-year-olds, Adi and Mae. We last saw each other about 14 months ago, when Adi and Mae were not even two. So it was delightful to hear them speak full sentences, and watch them play together.

Dani and Dave didn't enjoy the jetlag-with-children aspect of life, but after about four nights, things got better. And they were very patient with staying in our small apartment. Nine people, three rooms (that includes the kitchen!) one bathroom. It had it's hard moments, but overall, it was great!

Waking up sleepy kids is never fun, but D&D managed with humor and patience.

Mae showing Ella what's what.

Ella showing Adi

The first evening, Adi contemplated all the unfamiliar people.

Ella's Violin Story

[Holding two colorful plastic rulers perpendicularly]

"Momma! Do you know what this is? This is my violin. Do you hear the music? Whaaat? How can you not hear the music? See how I play it? Do you know where I got the violin? For my first birthday! Whaaat? Did I play it with the orange on bottom and the blue the violin stick? Yeah, I play it with the blue violin stick."


"Did you do the picture of my violin? You just could write down."
[Do you have more to tell me?]
"No, I'm done with that story."

School- Preschool

On the 1st of September, Danya started Russian 2nd class. The anticipation was much less than last year. Eric and I were so relieved to already have relationships with the teacher and other parents, and to feel we knew what to expect. But Danya said he hadn't been scared the year before. "Last year I was excited because I didn't know what it would be like. Now I know it's just a lot of work." Despite his lack of excitement, he did say he enjoyed seeing his friends and starting the new year. Tomorrow he'll have five lessons, including English. His teacher has offered to work with him on Russian while the others learn English!

Tima took a big step and started the "Preparatory Class" at the public kindergarten/preschool/childcare. We are a little anxious about how he'll fit into a group that's been together for three years, especially as a foreigner with limited language skills. His teacher did not make a great impression, but did introduce him to the other kids and seems to understand that she'll need to be patient with him. The second teacher of his group was pretty confrontational today when we picked him up, stating that they've already learned the alphabet and now are starting to learn to read, and that she can't start all over again with him. It surprised us, since Danya's 1st grade started with learning the letters! We knew some of the kids already could read, depending on their preschool, but expected that the preparatory class was the place for letter-learning. We'll see how that works out--in our experience people are often more helpful after we assure them we understand and want to work together for the same goal.

Tima enjoyed playing with the toys, especially the race cars. He was quite impressed by the number of toys in the room. Many of the kids have not come back yet after the summer vacation--today there were only 6 boys and 1 girl! He played soccer with the other kids at recess.

Ella got in a little trouble when she ran to see Tima while at recess! Her teacher explained to her that it was not okay to leave her group without asking permission. Ella's teacher is kind and gentle. She could easily be a preschool teacher in America. Ella was excited to start, and also impressed with the toys. When I asked what she most liked, she said, "They have dolls! ... And a gold thing, and a gold thing that turns, and I thought it opened on top, but... " (She continued talking about various 'things' as long as I let her!)

We are trusting God to give our kids each a place to thrive emotionally, socially and academically. But we know that sometimes hard situations are the best things for all of us. So we're praying in expectation, but knowing that God will work it all (somehow) to the good!

As I left in the morning, I could see Tima playing right inside the window.

Tima - age six

When Eric was trying to pull the second tooth, Tima found it too painful. "Daddy, please let's just wait until it falls out." And then he turned around and saw the tooth lying on the table. His tears dissolved into giggles. He feels very grown up to have lost two teeth this week! (Though we are a little concerned that the permanent teeth are 3-5mm back from where they should be. Fulfilling the prophecy of a dentist we didn't believe!)

Tima is getting ready to start Russian kindergarten. It's called the 'prepatory class' of preschool, for six-year-olds. (Russian kids usually start school at age seven.) He seems to understand enough Russian to get by, though I'm sure there will still be a steep learning curve. His playground group has helped him start to speak more. I am more anxious about it than he is! According to the other parents, the group he is entering is not the 'good' one. There has been a lot of turnover in the teachers, and it's always difficult to enter a class that has been together for three years. We are praying that God would help him thrive there, emotionally and linguistically.

Tima has finished our kindergarten curriculum for American homeschool. We are about a month into first-grade reading, and he is doing great. I have loved the easy, step-by-step approach of the Sonlight curriculum, using Explode the Code. He can read the readers easily, and is starting to notice the simple words in other books. Not reading complicated words doesn't stop him from constantly looking through books. He spends at least 30 minutes at bedtime looking at books.

The favorite games right now are: Rat-a-Cat-Tat, War, Connect Four. (Just this week Tima figured out how to beat the computer on level 1.) He still loves to play with little figures (animals, Star Wars, soldiers) and Lego ships, and he only occasionally builds them. It's hard for him to play totally quietly, because these characters fly and shoot and make all sorts of gutteral noises.

Outside, Tima has enjoyed being a part of the school-age crowd (see Playground Chronicles post) but he also loves to swing, slide, and play in the sand box. Until the kids group jelled, he spent about half the time playing soccer with Danya, and half playing on the playground with Ella.

This year had been great for Tima's relationship with Ella. Until this summer, the two of them played so well together, that sometimes I didn't know what to do with myself! After homeschool, they would play happily for an hour together in the room. (Unless, of course, I was depending on that and had scheduled a phone call. Somehow, then, it all fell apart!) However, the last few months, there has been a lot more conflict between them, and it seems I can't leave them alone for more than two minutes without screeching breaking out! Time knows how to quietly provoke, but often it seems that Ella demands whatever toy Tima is playing with. And she doesn't like to wait! Tima has a lot of patience, but he also refuses to give up every toy the minute that Ella wants it. (And I think he must derive some pleasure from watching her get angry!)

Tima loves to figure out and explain how things work. He describes (and inscribes in the air) elaborate diagrams of the playground, how a certian play in tag happened, or how the fort was constructed. When my dad was here, he mentioned that Tima had a certain aptitude for construction--he paid a lot of attention to the instructions, was willing to watch tedious activity patiently, and picked up how to do it intuitively.

Ella's Dramatic Flair

"I'm sad that I'm a guy who's not a baby..." [why?] "Because I like to whine and cry."

"Momma, that's so sad. There's only one flower here."

"Look, Momma a dog. That's so sad. He's all alone. He lost his owner."

"I didn't have any fun." [Usually said after a particularly fun time, when she's been forced to leave the activity and come home."

She loves making sad faces at herself in the mirror. In fact, if she's already sad, a mirror is the worst thing to make her feel better. She really likes watching herself cry, and exaggerates it more if she can see the results.

After the second day of preschool, she reported that two of the kids cried because they missed their mommas. (It is considered normal for kids to be miserable at first, since it's full-day childcare for kids 1 1/2 and older, as long as 7am to 6pm --not preschool as you imagine it!) Then she said, "I was sad without you. But I didn't cry. I was just quiet."

When I suggested that she go to her teacher for a hug, asking in gestures if she doesn't know the Russian words, she thought, then said, "But I love YOU!"

(The next day she was excited to go, though said she would be sad without me. And she was, but not too badly, I guess. We'll see how next week goes!)

Playground Chronicles

Danya, Tima, Dasha, Ira, Ira, Lena... This is the core of the local gang. Danya's classmate Elya and her brother Ernest connected them, but then they left for a month. The rest of the kids are here for the summer--a rather unusual situation for kids in St. Pete, where most children spend months in the village or dacha with relatives. Now, everyday, from 11-1 and then from 6-8pm they all play tag, freeze tag, skeleton, teacher or shark on the playground in front of our building. They play soccer sometimes, but mostly prefer their other, made up, games. They have also built a little fort against the preschool fence, with one big branch and some rope to define the edges. They decorate it with sticks 'planted' upright in the dirt, and have a liter of orange unedible berries as 'food'. Dried nettles are part of the weapon collection, which they anticipate using to keep other kids away. (And yes, I'm sad to say we occasionally hear reports of other kids 'attacking' and being driven off from destroying our kids' fort.) Mostly, though, it's a fun, creative and linguistically developing situation for our kids. I'm hopeful that Tima is learning a lot and gaining confidence in having Russian friends. (Danya doesn't need anymore confidence, but refining his grammer and gaining vocabulary are plusses, of course.)

That is the usual playground situation. It has been hard for me to fulfill my dream of daily walks in the woods, though the boys love riding their bikes, and I can only keep up running (with Ella in the jogging stroller). But our kids are so addicted to their friends, that it's like pulling teeth to get them to give up an hour of playground time. Thankfully, there is almost always another mother or grandmother, so I can run to the store or go around the corner to the sunny playground with Ella. However, I don't feel quite free to take a 30 minute voluntary walk.

This evening, Eric brought the baseball equipment outside. Danya surprised us with a watershed moment. "Dad, I think I want to go play with my friends instead of you," he said, for the first time ever. But later, when Eric and Tima's play attracted a group of boys, Danya came back. As more kids kept coming, Danya was energized and Tima wanted to hide in a hole.

Russian kids are intrigued by baseball. Most kids identify baseball bats more as weapons than sports equipment. So we have to watch them closely! Some had a pretension of knowing what to do. At one point 10 kids were playing, though it was hard to count, for kids would bat and then drift into the outfield and then drift away. But Eric encouraged and coached and they all had a great time.

Guess Who....

... lost his first tooth?

Building with Grandpa

My dad taught the boys a lot as they built this table for our balcony planters. It is delightful to watch him as he patiently explains each step and coaches them in how to do it correctly.