Bathing Beauty

Last night, for the first time, Lana took a bath. By which I mean she sat in the tub, with water up to her chest, played with toys, and splashed around. She had to be coaxed into the tub by her big brother (they were in the big jacuzzi tub in our bathroom.) Once she was in, she had a great time. She laughed, she loved the jacuzzi jets. When we told them it was time to get out, she raised up her right hand, all five fingers extended and said, "Five Minutes!! Five minutes more!!" Sometimes, she cracks me right up. The only tears came when Husband washed her hair. They were brief.

Lana also had her first hair cut in the United States yesterday. I took her to my good friend, J~, who also does my hair. She was very nervous when we went into the salon, and she clearly DID NOT want her hair cut, but, she sat on my lap and J~ patiently trimmed. She looks so much better without her hair hanging down into her eyes.

When we got home, Lana curiously told Husband, "Look Lana's hair! Lana's hair pretty. No cut. No cut hair. Pretty hair."

I'm not sure what to make of this - except that Lana may be trying to make a distinction between the "hair cuts" she got in Vietnam (in which her hair was basically shaved down to about 2 inches long) to the trim she got yesterday.

What was explained to us by our agency's social worker, when we arrived in Danang, was that Vietnamese children have very short hair until they are about 4 or 5. I am not sure if she meant "all Vietnamese children" or just ones in foster and orphanage care.

This morning, Lana let me put a clip in her hair. (We are growing part of her bangs out long - and that part of her hair needs to be pulled to the side with a barette.) The barette lasted about 10 minutes in her hair before it started to fall out. Her hair is so straight and so fine, it's like there is nothing for the barette to keep hold of. We may have to look for some clips or something...


Gretchen

Is she a Pirate?

It is astonishing to me how quickly Lana's English is coming now. I heard about a group of DVDs (from another mom who adopted a four-year-old through our agency), called "Sesamee English". These DVDs are from the Sesamee Street people (obviously) and they teach English as a Second Language, and also have some of the soundtrack in Vietnamese, Hmong, Mandarin or Korean. Lana really seems to be learning from these. Also, I think being in a classroom with other children every day is helping a lot.

This morning, while we were dropping Gabe off at school, she said, "I stay in car, mommy." !!! A whole sentence! She has also said things like, "Mommy, I cold," and "Daddy, I hungry, want chicken, want pony!" (Um...I am embarrassed to say that what she means is she wants chicken nuggets from McDonalds and the My Little Pony toy that is currently accompanying them. She has a collection of three of these little ponies, and, left to her own devices, would evidently eat McDonald's chicken nuggets around the clock.)

But, the one notable word that Lan DOES NOT SAY is "Yes". She has "NO" down pat. "NO" was one of the first English words she used.

But, not "yes".

Instead of saying yes, Lana says, "ayuh" or "aye" or possibly "hai". We are trying to figure out if a pirate has sneaking in and teaching her to speak. Or a person from Maine? Or possibly a Japanese person?? It's the funniest thing.

Also amusing - one of Lana's best pals at school is a little boy named Nico. Nico's mom is a German professor at the University where the school is located. She is actually FROM Germany, so, she speaks to Nico only in German while her husband speaks to him only in English. The result is that, at four, Nico is bi-lingual. So, as we were leaving school the other day, Nico held the door open for Lana and said, "Komen Sie Aus, Lana, Komen Sie Aus!" Which Lana promptly did. Nico's mom and I laughed that Lana is going to be speaking German, too, pretty soon!!

More later,
Gretchen

Cuban?

This morning, whilst driving Lana to her pre-school, we were listening to the BBC World News Hour on NPR. (See, that's why I used the word "whilst" - to be all British and such.)

Anyway, we were listening to the BBC, and I thought Lana might comment on the fact that the announcer was doing a story about Vietnam (evidently, there has been a crackdown on dissidents of late), but, she didn't say a word about that. (Although, the British newcaster's pronounciation of the word Vietnam is very very far from Lana's own distinct pronounciation of "Viet Nam" - she may not have even registered that they were talking about her homeland.)

However, the story after the story about the jailing of Vietnamese dissidents was about Cuban refugees.

Suddenly, from the quiet back seat, Lana yelled, "Mommy!!! Cuban!!"

I said, "What?"

"Mommy!!! CUBAN!! CUBAN!!! CUBAN!! CUUUUUUUUUUUBAN!!"

Me: "Huh?"

What the heck is that about? She continued to say it, all the way to school.

It just leaves me scratching my head and wondering what she thinks "Cuban" means...

Perhaps she is hankering for a lime-and-cumin spiced pork sandwich?

Gretchen

She Loves Me Not

We had a difficult day on Saturday with Lana.  I have several theories on why it was so hard, but, who knows, really? 

 

Her schedule had been all messed up since Wednesday, as Wednesday evening we had a Lenten dinner and lecture at church (during which Lana happily went to the children's program with her cousins and brother), and Thursday we were at the T~'s house having Vietnamese food and didn't get home until 10:45 PM, and then Friday night my niece, Taylor, spent the night. 

 

Gabe and Lana and Taylor played well together, until it was time to go to bed.  As is customary for when Gabriel and Taylor have sleepovers (and they've been having sleepovers for 3 or 4 years now), I put in a movie and put them, along with Lana, into the guest room to watch a movie and drift off to sleep.

 

Except, that's not what happened because Lana does not have 3 years of cousin-sleep-over-experience to draw on.  She did not lay down quietly (and it was 10:00 by this time and way past her usual 8:30 bedtime for the 3rd night in a row.)

 

So, I ended up turning the movie off for a few minutes, and taking Lana to her room and putting her to bed by herself.  And she fell asleep.  Until she was awoken by Gabe and Taylor having an argument about (of all things) the Statue of Liberty.  (Taylor had recently been to New York City with my brother, and she insisted that you could go INSIDE the statue.  Gabriel had been studying the Statue at school, where his teacher had told them that visitors were no longer allowed inside the statue. If any New Yorkers are reading this please let me know which of them was right!!)

 

Anyway, the ridiculous argument woke Lana up, and she was crying and upset (probably feeling left out of the fun, but, what was I supposed to do?  If she won't lay down and fall asleep to the movie, what are my options, really?)

 

She fell back to sleep with some comforting from David, and Taylor and Gabriel fell asleep soon after.  Taylor and Gabe were up again at 7:30 AM (what the heck??), but, Lana slept until 9:45.  There was arguing about whose My Little Pony was whose, and arguing about this and that.  Typical arguing among children who haven't had enough sleep, nothing out of the ordinary.

 

My brother came to pick up Taylor, and we went out the mall to run some errands. 

 

Lana was absolutely atrocious at the mall.  She ran away from us, she refused to hold anyone's hand, she pushed another little girl...David ended up practically dragging her by her arm because she was refusing to walk if either of us tried to hold her hand.  There was fit throwing and screaming.

 

We went home without our errands finished because she was just being impossible. 

 

Around 7:00, David and Gabriel left to go finish the errands, and I planned to give Lana a bath and put her to bed on time.

 

The best laid plans of mice and men...

 

Lana lost her mind when David left the house with Gabriel.  She went ABSOLUTELY BANANAS.  She tried to run after him, running into the garage as she tried to put her shoes on (after he had driven away).  She screamed.  She bawled.  She was in hysterics.

 

I put some water in the bathtub and she ran away from me yelling "NO NO NO NO NO NO NO".  She ran into her bedroom and LOCKED THE DOOR.  When she came out of her room she was wearing pajamas and running shoes.  I physically tried to pick her up and take her into the bathroom, telling her she needed to get clean.  She is strong.  She made it physically impossible for me to get her into the tub, or even out of her pjs.  She ran down the stairs and back into the garage, screaming, "BA! Ba! Ba! Ba! Ba!" (Daddy).

 

I dragged her back in the house.  I offered her food.  She refused.  I told her it was bedtime and she went into her room and threw herself on her bed and cried and kicked some more.  I offered to read her a book.  "NO BOOK!  NO BOOK!" she screamed.  I sang her a song (the one I usually sing at bedtime) and she screamed "NO MOMMY NO MOMMY!  NO LOVE YOU!  NO LOVE YOU!  NO LOVE YOU!" 

 

She was covered with tears and snot.  I told her I loved her - she pushed me away from her.   I told her Ba would be here when she woke up in the morning.  I closed the door.  Her angry cries turned to sad cries.  "Ba...Ba....Ba....Ba..."  I went in the room to comfort her and she screamed "NO MOMMY!  NO MOMMY!" again.  When I left she switched from crying "Ba" to crying "Daddy...Daddy...Daddy". 

 

It is hard to hear a child tell you they don't love you.  And when she says, "no mommy" sometimes, I believe what she is saying is that I am NOT her mommy.  It is painful to hear this from a child you have, literally, been to the ends of the earth for.  I will be honest and say that, mostly what I felt about her, at that moment, was frustration and anger and hopelessness.  She fell asleep a little before 8:00, and I laid in my bed and cried for a while.  I turned on the TV and saw that the Oxygen Network had attempted to turn Margaret Atwood's The Robber Bride (one of my favorite books) into a movie, so, I watched that for a while.  (Um...they tried, and they used Mary Louise Parker as Xenia, but...it really didn't work out very well.)  When David and Gabe came home, I told them about the last two hours and I curled up like a lump on the couch to watch the end of the movie.

 

Lana woke up, and David went to comfort her.  She was furious with him, but, she did quiet down.  Ten minutes later she was screaming "bafroom, havva go bafroom" and I went up to take her to the potty.  She pushed me away, and then she saw David was right behind me.  She jumped into his arms crying, "bafroom, bafroom" - he took her to the bathroom and she fell asleep again.  She was up once more at 11:30, but, went back to sleep when David tucked her back in.  She slept the rest of the night and was in a much better mood yesterday. 

 

She finally consented to a shower (she has lately decided that she hates water worse than a skittish cat), but, yesterday, we finally had a clean child with no tears and no screaming, a first for her in the last three weeks.

 

And this morning, she came to me for comfort when she woke up, and let me help her get her clothes on.  She happily got in the car to go to school, and, when I was threading the seat belt through her car seat, she kissed my cheek and say, "Love you, Mommy."

 

I'm trying to focus on that postive response.  It's not easy.  But, I'm trying to focus on it.

 

Gretchen

 

 

 

 

Where is my brother?

Lana threw me for a loop on Tuesday with her use of the word "Brother."

She was home from school (still sick from the virus that sent us to the hospital on Sunday, which is a post unto it's self and which I do not have the patience to write about right now because it made me so angry I thought my head would explode).

Anyway, we were looking at pictures and trying to decide which pictures to put in collage-type frame, when she picked up a picture of Gabriel and said, "Ga-bri-el!" And I said, "yes, that's your brother, Gabriel."

"Brother!" she said, happily, pointing at other photos of Gabe and saying, "Brother! Brother! Brother!"

I was proud of her for learning a new English word and I gave her a "high five". (She high fives everyone right now. EVERYONE. She tried to high five the check-out girl at the grocery the other day.)

Then, all of the sudden, she dug through a stack of pictures from our trip to Vietnam, until she came to a photo of several children at the orphanage.

She pointed to a child named Son, the child who had been fostered in the same foster home as her, and, in all seriousness, looked at me and said his full name in Vietnamese (which I cannot pronounce and cannot even begin to imagine how to spell) and then said, "Brother."

I looked at her completely stunned.

"Brother," she said again, pointing at Son. "Brother mo? Brother mo?"

She took my face in her hands and said it again, "Brother mo?"
"Mo" means "where" in Vietnamese.

SHE WAS ASKING ME WHERE HER FOSTER BROTHER WAS.

I felt like someone had poored ice water down my spine.

It has been weeks since she said Son's name (admittedly, she did ask about him in Vietnam, and on one occasion vomited when he and his new parents got out of the agency's van to go to their hotel, so, I was AWARE, at least, that they had a bond of some kind.)

I would venture a guess that she has not mentioned Son since we left Vietnam, but, it was clear, Tuesday, that his absence was weighing on her.

Where is my brother? Where is my brother? (Can you imagine not knowing the answer to this question?????????????????)

It is at moments like those, it occurs to me how much this child has lost. And I do not have the ability to tell her, "Son is with his new family in Chicago" because "Chicago" means nothing to her.

Ultimately, I pulled out a photo of Son's parents and I said, "Son co Mommy" and "Son co Daddy".* She looked at the photos of Son's new parents (thank God I have pictures of them at least) for a second and shook her head. Then she picked up a different photo of Gabriel and she hasn't brought up Son since.

I don't honestly know what to think about the whole conversation, except that it makes me sad to think she has been wondering what happened to her foster brother, and it never occured to me to tell her where he had gone.

Gretchen

*I believe that "co" is a possessive marker in Vietnamese, equivalent to an " 's " - this is based on my observation of Lana's speech pattern when she is talking about something that belongs to her - i.e. she says, "Lana co shoe" or "Lana co kitty" - when it is clear she means "Lana's shoe" or "Lana's kitty."