As always, I don't necessarily agree or disagree with these links, but I believe they are important to consider. For those of you new around here, I'm an adoptive momma. Each Sunday I try to post links relevant to the China- adoptive community. I read some of these linkage posts while nodding my head in agreement... others stretch my mind as I seek to understand. Always, always, I consider them.
I Knew Everything. I Knew Nothing. -- first mother Jenna at The Chronicles of Munchkin Land... describing how it felt four years ago to become a mom after having already been a mother for two years
I Am Mental -- adoptive momma (China) LMGNYC at La Bicicleta... learning that it's all about what is best for your particular child
Defending Adoptive Parents -- adult adoptee (Taiwan) Mei-Ling at Shadow Between Two Worlds... the number one reason Mei-Ling doesn't feel the need to defend adoptive parents
Is My Son Lucky? -- adoptive momma (Vietnam) Martha Nichols at the group blog Adopt-a-tude... thoughts after hearing the "he's so lucky" comment yet again
Adoption: A Beautiful, Broken System -- adoptive momma (India and Liberia) Jamie Martin at Steady Mom... describing the imperfect solution that is adoption
Reality vs. Fantasy -- adult adoptee (Korea) 윤선 (Yoon Seon) at 안녕습니다 (annyong seumnida): My adventures as a Korean adoptee... balancing her emotions about adoption with the thought that perhaps it is sometimes necessary
What answer would be good enough? -- waiting to adopt (from China) madduchess at the disloyal subject of the red queen... expressing frustration with the many adoptive-parents who react so harshly to the voices of adult adoptees
China trips -- adoptive momma (China) OmegaMom... visits to your child's birth country: balancing an ideal with reality
Is Silence Golden? -- first mother Cassi at Adoption Truth... using her very unique perspective (now parenting her once relinquished child), Cassi shares her thoughts about communication between an adoptive mother and a first mother
Four Steps to Cope with Post-Adoption Depression -- adoptive momma (China) Elizabeth at Don't Call Me Mother... tools to help minimize the effects (or chance) of post-adoption depression
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Sunday Scripture
You are my God, and I will give You thanks; You are my God, and I will exalt You. Give thanks to the LORD, for He is good; His love endures forever.
Psalm 118:28-29
你是我的神, 我要称谢你! 你是我的神, 我要尊崇你!
你们要称谢耶和华, 因他本为善, 他的慈爱永远长存!
诗篇 一百十八: 二十八- 二十九
Psalm 118:28-29
你是我的神, 我要称谢你! 你是我的神, 我要尊崇你!
你们要称谢耶和华, 因他本为善, 他的慈爱永远长存!
诗篇 一百十八: 二十八- 二十九
Friday, November 20, 2009
Thankful For...
I think we all remember the "I'm Thankful For..." feathers we did during our school days. But - in case you've forgotten - here's a look at Ms. Confetti's classroom gratitude turkey.
It's so heart-warming and precious to read about all of the people and things that the children feel thankful for. They expressed their gratitude for their parents... for God... for the Thanksgiving holidays... for siblings and friends... their grandparents... and for having enough food to eat and a home to live in.
And then there was the Tongginator...
What a turkey.
It's so heart-warming and precious to read about all of the people and things that the children feel thankful for. They expressed their gratitude for their parents... for God... for the Thanksgiving holidays... for siblings and friends... their grandparents... and for having enough food to eat and a home to live in.
And then there was the Tongginator...
What a turkey.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Red Sauce, Red Face
subtitled "and this is why most people from my real life don't know I blog"
Two evenings ago, the husband and I hosted a spaghetti dinner for a bunch of friends from church. I tripled the batch of spaghetti sauce, knowing I'd send a few families home with leftovers as well as saving some for ourselves. But there was still quite a bit left over - even after all of that - because only half of the expected crowd showed up. I didn't bat an eye, though, since all I needed to do was call Ring and let him know he had enough spaghetti sauce for two home-cooked meals.
So call I did. And I left a message.
Last night he picked up a Tupperware filled to the brim with delicious smelling goodness. If I do say so myself. Which I do. Ahem. Anyways, he stopped by on his way home from picking up the twins at after-care. It was right at the beginning of the Tongginator shower time/ bed time routine. She heard the doorbell and wanted (NEEDED!) to know who was there. I heard her daddy yell at her to "get back here right this instant!," so I turned around to see the source of all that commotion.
The Tongginator stood... stark naked... on the third step from the top floor.
TONGGU MOMMA: Tongginator! Get back upstairs right this minute!
TONGGINATOR: But I want to say hi to Mr. Ring!!!
TONGGU MOMMA: I don't care! Get back upstairs! We don't run around downstairs naked!
She obeyed. And I turned around to hand over the sauce to Ring.
RING: (grinning, with a twinkle in his eye) That's a good lesson to learn.
TONGGU MOMMA: (total and complete blank stare... and then...) Oh! OH!!! You!
RING: Better she learn it now, right?
And that's when I started laughing. And so did he.
It's a good thing I adore his family so darn much. And that I Trust Him To Never Breathe A Word Of That Story To ANYONE At ANY Time. Otherwise I just might slip a little something into my next batch of red sauce. And don't worry about his twins, y'all. Pocket and Posies would never eat my spaghetti anyways.
It has grated carrots in it.
Two evenings ago, the husband and I hosted a spaghetti dinner for a bunch of friends from church. I tripled the batch of spaghetti sauce, knowing I'd send a few families home with leftovers as well as saving some for ourselves. But there was still quite a bit left over - even after all of that - because only half of the expected crowd showed up. I didn't bat an eye, though, since all I needed to do was call Ring and let him know he had enough spaghetti sauce for two home-cooked meals.
So call I did. And I left a message.
Last night he picked up a Tupperware filled to the brim with delicious smelling goodness. If I do say so myself. Which I do. Ahem. Anyways, he stopped by on his way home from picking up the twins at after-care. It was right at the beginning of the Tongginator shower time/ bed time routine. She heard the doorbell and wanted (NEEDED!) to know who was there. I heard her daddy yell at her to "get back here right this instant!," so I turned around to see the source of all that commotion.
The Tongginator stood... stark naked... on the third step from the top floor.
TONGGU MOMMA: Tongginator! Get back upstairs right this minute!
TONGGINATOR: But I want to say hi to Mr. Ring!!!
TONGGU MOMMA: I don't care! Get back upstairs! We don't run around downstairs naked!
She obeyed. And I turned around to hand over the sauce to Ring.
RING: (grinning, with a twinkle in his eye) That's a good lesson to learn.
TONGGU MOMMA: (total and complete blank stare... and then...) Oh! OH!!! You!
RING: Better she learn it now, right?
And that's when I started laughing. And so did he.
It's a good thing I adore his family so darn much. And that I Trust Him To Never Breathe A Word Of That Story To ANYONE At ANY Time. Otherwise I just might slip a little something into my next batch of red sauce. And don't worry about his twins, y'all. Pocket and Posies would never eat my spaghetti anyways.
It has grated carrots in it.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Knock Me Out Instead
TONGGINATOR: Knock knock.
TONGGU MOMMA: Who's there?
TONGGINATOR: Stinky.
TONGGU MOMMA: Stinky who?
TONGGINATOR: Stinky bottom feet. (uproarious laughter, complete with belly jiggling)
???
TONGGINATOR: Knock knock.
TONGGU MOMMA: Who's there?
TONGGINATOR: Rainbow.
TONGGU MOMMA: Rainbow who?
TONGGINATOR: Rainbow... with lots o' colors. (unending giggles, with possible rolling on the floor)
???
TONGGINATOR: Knock knock.
TONGGU MOMMA: Who's there?
TONGGINATOR: Banana.
TONGGU MOMMA: Banana who?
TONGGINATOR: Banana banana banana. (an actual guffaw, followed by a snort)
???
Welcome to my world right now, y'all. Please help me feel better... tell me the Absolute Worst joke you've ever heard. (But please remember that Tonggu Grammy reads the blog.) And allow me to take a quick break from banging my head against the wall to say thank you.
TONGGU MOMMA: Who's there?
TONGGINATOR: Stinky.
TONGGU MOMMA: Stinky who?
TONGGINATOR: Stinky bottom feet. (uproarious laughter, complete with belly jiggling)
???
TONGGINATOR: Knock knock.
TONGGU MOMMA: Who's there?
TONGGINATOR: Rainbow.
TONGGU MOMMA: Rainbow who?
TONGGINATOR: Rainbow... with lots o' colors. (unending giggles, with possible rolling on the floor)
???
TONGGINATOR: Knock knock.
TONGGU MOMMA: Who's there?
TONGGINATOR: Banana.
TONGGU MOMMA: Banana who?
TONGGINATOR: Banana banana banana. (an actual guffaw, followed by a snort)
???
Welcome to my world right now, y'all. Please help me feel better... tell me the Absolute Worst joke you've ever heard. (But please remember that Tonggu Grammy reads the blog.) And allow me to take a quick break from banging my head against the wall to say thank you.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
One. Busy. Day.
This post brought to you by an eternally grateful daughter, who requests that you please shower Tonggu Grammy with effusive compliments for her hard work yesterday.
Last month, Tonggu Grammy came up with this oh-so-brilliant plan to share all things Native American with the Tongginator's kindergarten class at some point in the future. Ms. Confetti thought that sounded like an excellent plan, so she invited my momma to come in the week before Thanksgiving break. Because even though she, my momma and I know that most First Americans actually shy away from the holiday celebrating the "friendship" that led to the loss of their way of life, we thought we'd embrace the irony of it all. Oh, and because that's when most school curriculum calls for teaching about the "Pilgrims and Indians."
Ms. Confetti and my mom plotted and planned, pretty much leaving me out of the whole process. Which was probably a good thing... because I just might have fainted if I learned ahead of time what my momma was going to talk about with a bunch of five-year-olds. In case y'all didn't know, my momma may look like your standard run-of-the-mill white woman, but she is, in fact, part Cherokee. And, as you'll see, she takes her Native American heritage mighty seriously. She is all about sharing Past and Present Authentic Information and Stuff.
Tonggu Grammy would Die Of Absolute Mortification if a child walked out of her classroom still believing that ALL Indians used to live in tepees or that Native Americans of today still wore traditional dress on a daily basis. I mean, I'm sure y'all know that Native Americans lived in a variety of abodes, depending on their region and tribal customs, so why on earth do the schools just teach about tepees? It boggles the mind. I mean, what about the longhouses, wickiups, wigwams, hogans, chickees, pueblos and plankhouses? What about the igloos and asis, the earth lodges and sod houses? I mean, the least they could do is teach about wetus, the homes used by the Wampanoag tribe... you know, the tribe talked about in all those first Thanksgiving stories.
Grr...
Anyways, as I said, my momma is all about sharing Past and Present Authentic Information and Stuff. Because it's important for kindergartners to learn all about the atlatl, or spear-thrower, that can launch a spear the entire length of a football field.
And it's vital for them to understand all about how warring First Nations tribes would hit their enemies in the head (to kill them) or in the shoulder (to disarm them) during battle.
And what kindergartner wouldn't find it fascinating to learn that most indigenous peoples of the Americas used a mixture of animal brains and water to soften animal hides, making them more pliable and comfortable for use or wear?
And of course it's vitally important to touch various animal pelts (ones in which the fur remains) and hides (where the fur has been scraped off). I mean, how often does one get to actually feel a bear claw and live to tell about it?
And what sane person wouldn't find it utterly fascinating to hold the Cherokee doll that Tonggu Momma once played with as a little girl?
Or to learn all about how the Woodland Indians up and down the east coast used to place cattails, moss and soft grasses in the bottom of a cradleboard to act as a "diaper" for the babies resting inside? And who wouldn't then want to make a kindergarten version of a cradleboard, with a baby inside who sports a happy face on one side and a sad face on the other, depending on whether or not the moss, cattails and soft grasses need changing?
And - of course - what five-year-old wouldn't giggle at the sight of Tonggu Grammy demonstrating how most indigenous peoples of the Americas would creep up on their prey wearing the hides and pelts of the animals they hunted?
And it's important for them to bang away on authentic musical instruments, including drums of various sizes, a turtle-shell rattle and a variety of rawhide, gourd and deer hoof rattles.
Plus, what child wouldn't enjoy learning to write in pictographs, since it's impossible to mess up the spelling?
The children also got to look at an authentic spear; Inuit bone fish hooks; and arrow heads of various sizes, made by various tribes. They were able to feel the pelts of a raccoon, rabbit, deer, buffalo and fox; authentic children's dolls made by the Pueblo, Inuit and Sioux; a traditional Blackfoot dancing stick and an all-important Talking Stick. They sang traditional songs in the Iroquois and Cherokee languages. And they played a traditional Zuni game called Po-ke-an.
Tonggu Grammy and I were only in the Tongginator's class for a little over four hours. I later told her and Ms. Confetti that I dubbed the day "Native Americans... On Speed."
Last month, Tonggu Grammy came up with this oh-so-brilliant plan to share all things Native American with the Tongginator's kindergarten class at some point in the future. Ms. Confetti thought that sounded like an excellent plan, so she invited my momma to come in the week before Thanksgiving break. Because even though she, my momma and I know that most First Americans actually shy away from the holiday celebrating the "friendship" that led to the loss of their way of life, we thought we'd embrace the irony of it all. Oh, and because that's when most school curriculum calls for teaching about the "Pilgrims and Indians."
Ms. Confetti and my mom plotted and planned, pretty much leaving me out of the whole process. Which was probably a good thing... because I just might have fainted if I learned ahead of time what my momma was going to talk about with a bunch of five-year-olds. In case y'all didn't know, my momma may look like your standard run-of-the-mill white woman, but she is, in fact, part Cherokee. And, as you'll see, she takes her Native American heritage mighty seriously. She is all about sharing Past and Present Authentic Information and Stuff.
Tonggu Grammy would Die Of Absolute Mortification if a child walked out of her classroom still believing that ALL Indians used to live in tepees or that Native Americans of today still wore traditional dress on a daily basis. I mean, I'm sure y'all know that Native Americans lived in a variety of abodes, depending on their region and tribal customs, so why on earth do the schools just teach about tepees? It boggles the mind. I mean, what about the longhouses, wickiups, wigwams, hogans, chickees, pueblos and plankhouses? What about the igloos and asis, the earth lodges and sod houses? I mean, the least they could do is teach about wetus, the homes used by the Wampanoag tribe... you know, the tribe talked about in all those first Thanksgiving stories.
Grr...
Anyways, as I said, my momma is all about sharing Past and Present Authentic Information and Stuff. Because it's important for kindergartners to learn all about the atlatl, or spear-thrower, that can launch a spear the entire length of a football field.
And it's vital for them to understand all about how warring First Nations tribes would hit their enemies in the head (to kill them) or in the shoulder (to disarm them) during battle.
And what kindergartner wouldn't find it fascinating to learn that most indigenous peoples of the Americas used a mixture of animal brains and water to soften animal hides, making them more pliable and comfortable for use or wear?
And of course it's vitally important to touch various animal pelts (ones in which the fur remains) and hides (where the fur has been scraped off). I mean, how often does one get to actually feel a bear claw and live to tell about it?
And what sane person wouldn't find it utterly fascinating to hold the Cherokee doll that Tonggu Momma once played with as a little girl?
Or to learn all about how the Woodland Indians up and down the east coast used to place cattails, moss and soft grasses in the bottom of a cradleboard to act as a "diaper" for the babies resting inside? And who wouldn't then want to make a kindergarten version of a cradleboard, with a baby inside who sports a happy face on one side and a sad face on the other, depending on whether or not the moss, cattails and soft grasses need changing?
And - of course - what five-year-old wouldn't giggle at the sight of Tonggu Grammy demonstrating how most indigenous peoples of the Americas would creep up on their prey wearing the hides and pelts of the animals they hunted?
And it's important for them to bang away on authentic musical instruments, including drums of various sizes, a turtle-shell rattle and a variety of rawhide, gourd and deer hoof rattles.
Plus, what child wouldn't enjoy learning to write in pictographs, since it's impossible to mess up the spelling?
The children also got to look at an authentic spear; Inuit bone fish hooks; and arrow heads of various sizes, made by various tribes. They were able to feel the pelts of a raccoon, rabbit, deer, buffalo and fox; authentic children's dolls made by the Pueblo, Inuit and Sioux; a traditional Blackfoot dancing stick and an all-important Talking Stick. They sang traditional songs in the Iroquois and Cherokee languages. And they played a traditional Zuni game called Po-ke-an.
Tonggu Grammy and I were only in the Tongginator's class for a little over four hours. I later told her and Ms. Confetti that I dubbed the day "Native Americans... On Speed."
Monday, November 16, 2009
TM Goes Kaboom
I've started coming out of my introverted shell a bit, y'all. Because yesterday? I went to another bloggy meet-up. Oh, yes, I did, even though one of my best buds believes that I take my life in my hands whenever I do this. I've tried to reassure her that meeting CC and Professor X, Aunt Lolo, Lisa and Ivy are some of my most favorite blogging-related memories. She still frets, as does the Husband. He always wants to be sure I've charged my cell phone and that we are meeting in a public place. Oh, and that whomever I meet is actually female.
I think he just likes to worry.
I mean, do Alece and Lisa-Jo look like men to you?
me, Alece and Lisa-Jo in a Northern Virginia Starbucks
(and I'd like to make a general announcement, letting y'all
know that Alece stood on her tip-toes for this photo)
I didn't think so.
These are two incredibly sweet ladies, both of whom impressed me greatly with their spitting abilities. In other words, they both speak Afrikaans. (And I thought I was oh-so-cool with my level one Mandarin abilities. Pshaw. That? Is NOTHING compared to these two.) Lisa-Jo is a South African by birth and American by marriage, while Alece is the founder of Thrive Africa.
I actually DID take my life in my hands, however, but not because of meeting Little Miss Grit & Glory and the Gypsy Mama. Because on the way home? I got into a car accident. Oh, yes, I did. And here's where I'd like to be able to go on and on about the moron who hit me, but - unfortunately - I am the moron.
Yep, you read that right. I, Tonggu Momma, am the MORON!
(I can't believe that I! Am! The! Moron!)
I rear-ended a carload of sweet, cute-as-buttons, "Thank you, Jesus!"-ing college girls. Oh, yes I did. Traffic was horrendous and I was trying to switch lanes. Only I live in the DC area, so of course no one ever allows anyone to get over. So while I kept glancing in my side-view mirror, looking for a break in traffic, the cars in front of me all slammed on their breaks. And when I actually SAW the break lights, I did the same. Only I was a little too late.
Which resulted in a rather large kaboom.
Or maybe it was just a minor kaboom. Because not one of those sweet little college gals was seriously hurt... and the damage to both vehicles was actually quite minor, all things considered. Thank goodness for bumpers. And seat belts. And stellar brakes.
umm... do you think I might need a new license plate?
and here is a photo of the slight gap between my bumper
and my car... not to be confused with the rather huge gap
between my ears, where my brain should actually be
The only serious damage? Was to my pride. And - whine, whine, whine - my back feels sore, too. After much quiet reflection, I'm choosing to blame all of this, not on my inattention and horrifically poor depth perception (because that would be absolutely way too convicting), but on that second large latte I drank. Which - when you think about it - is really the fault of Alece and Lisa-Jo. Because I wouldn't have drank that second latte if I hadn't stayed so long. And I wouldn't have stayed so long if I hadn't enjoyed those ladies so very much.
Which means I think two certain someones owe me an apology.
I'm just saying...
I think he just likes to worry.
I mean, do Alece and Lisa-Jo look like men to you?
me, Alece and Lisa-Jo in a Northern Virginia Starbucks(and I'd like to make a general announcement, letting y'all
know that Alece stood on her tip-toes for this photo)
I didn't think so.
These are two incredibly sweet ladies, both of whom impressed me greatly with their spitting abilities. In other words, they both speak Afrikaans. (And I thought I was oh-so-cool with my level one Mandarin abilities. Pshaw. That? Is NOTHING compared to these two.) Lisa-Jo is a South African by birth and American by marriage, while Alece is the founder of Thrive Africa.
I actually DID take my life in my hands, however, but not because of meeting Little Miss Grit & Glory and the Gypsy Mama. Because on the way home? I got into a car accident. Oh, yes, I did. And here's where I'd like to be able to go on and on about the moron who hit me, but - unfortunately - I am the moron.
Yep, you read that right. I, Tonggu Momma, am the MORON!
(I can't believe that I! Am! The! Moron!)
I rear-ended a carload of sweet, cute-as-buttons, "Thank you, Jesus!"-ing college girls. Oh, yes I did. Traffic was horrendous and I was trying to switch lanes. Only I live in the DC area, so of course no one ever allows anyone to get over. So while I kept glancing in my side-view mirror, looking for a break in traffic, the cars in front of me all slammed on their breaks. And when I actually SAW the break lights, I did the same. Only I was a little too late.
Which resulted in a rather large kaboom.
Or maybe it was just a minor kaboom. Because not one of those sweet little college gals was seriously hurt... and the damage to both vehicles was actually quite minor, all things considered. Thank goodness for bumpers. And seat belts. And stellar brakes.
umm... do you think I might need a new license plate?
and here is a photo of the slight gap between my bumperand my car... not to be confused with the rather huge gap
between my ears, where my brain should actually be
The only serious damage? Was to my pride. And - whine, whine, whine - my back feels sore, too. After much quiet reflection, I'm choosing to blame all of this, not on my inattention and horrifically poor depth perception (because that would be absolutely way too convicting), but on that second large latte I drank. Which - when you think about it - is really the fault of Alece and Lisa-Jo. Because I wouldn't have drank that second latte if I hadn't stayed so long. And I wouldn't have stayed so long if I hadn't enjoyed those ladies so very much.
Which means I think two certain someones owe me an apology.
I'm just saying...
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