Something for the Road

Joy and Life Lessons in Soccer

Soccer Mom.  It’s official.  He LOVES soccer.  The technique and organization for Naso are a little different than his days of kicking a soccer ball around the field with his buddies at Mother of Peace, but he is learning.  He skips and sings as he runs down the field.  So full of joy!  He wants so badly to touch the ball with his hands.  He is the first to chase it when it goes out of bounds, sometimes knocking his teammate out of the way so he can be FIRST.

Me:  Naso, what did you learn at practice today?

Naso:  I learned a really cool trick.

Me:  Wow, what was it?

Naso:  Coach told me that if I’m kicking the ball down the field and someone takes it away from me, I should just keep running instead of stopping and crying.

Me:  That is a really good trick.  (Life Lesson #1)

Industrious

8 –years old, and this kid already has a part-time job.  He picks up pinecones like nobody’s business.  He filled this trailer in no time at all.  “I love working mom.  Your wish will come true – I will grow up to be a worker man and know lots of stuff and do lots of stuff.”

Hooray, Naso – you keep on workin’!

One Year

This year has been riddled with miracles, joyful moments, grieving, and lots of humility.  Naso came from a life with many disruptions, deep loss, and desperate circumstances as well as a wake of people who rescued and saved and loved him before we were able to include him in our family.  He is a super hero.  I often tell him that he is the bravest person I know.  He is teaching me about love and compassion and patience.  He is changing us and making us better.

Naso is thriving in school, finally.  It’s amazing what happens when some of the stress melts off this kid and he starts to feel secure.  It took us the entire year to get through the 1st Set of Bob Books, but he is already finished the 2nd set within a month.  He and I work with math manipulatives, using the Saxon Math homeschool program and he is progressing far quicker than we thought possible – he understands numbers, months and days and weeks, and he is even learning time.  These are huge leaps forward.

 

Hey Caleb, we have the same shirt (pointing to the Champion logo on his sweatshirt)

Yup – it’s a good brand.

Wow!  It’s almost like . . . . . . . . we’re brothers

Uh, we are, Naso.

Really?!  That’s so cool!

(Can you see the resemblance?)

One year ago, we drove up to Mother of Peace and saw, for the first time, a small little boy sitting on a stoop anxiously waiting with bags packed.  He grabbed my hand immediately, called us Mom and Dad from the beginning and got in that big white van with a bunch of unfamiliar people and never looked back.  He is the bravest boy I know.

We celebrated with a hike and McDonalds.  When we all went around the table and said something we love about him, he said, “Oh, thank you ________, I love you too.”  We are a very lucky family.

Brown Gingerbread Men in February

At Christmastime, Naso asked several times to make Gingerbread Men.  We were super busy, so in my efforts to be efficient and cover all of my basis, I let him cut out gingerbread men shapes out of the sugar cookie dough we made.  After they came out of the oven, the conversation went something like this:

Naso:  Ummm, mom, something is wrong with my Gingerbread Men.

Mom:  No, they look fine – you did a good job.

Naso:  I don’t think so.  They are WHITE!

Mom:  I think Gingerbread is a flavor.

Naso:  But Gingerbread Men are brown like me.  These cookies look like the rest of the family.

Mom:  Ooops.

This is an ongoing conversation Naso has with us.  He wants to be the same as us and we are teaching him to love who he is because we love who he is.  There is much more on this subject, and I’m sure a post will happen when I’m feeling a little more eloquent, but in the meantime I recently remembered this conversation and whipped up a batch of “brown” gingerbread men and women.

Naso was beside himself and of course full of joy.  The rest of us didn’t think they were so bad, either.

First School Program

He looked sharp.  He knew all of the words to all of the songs.  He knew his speaking part and said it with gusto.  And, in between the songs and the speaking parts, he made rabbit teeth faces.

Work for Money

Naso uses the term, “work for money” a lot.  That is probably because my kids “work” every day.  I am a big believer in work.  There are only a few things that they get paid for.  But “working for money” is his favorite thing to do and when he realized he would need to buy his sister a gift with his own money, he was anxious to do it.

And he is my best worker.  He doesn’t love to start it, but he can really get into it.  About 5 minutes after the work starts and there has been a little complaining, he can be overheard saying things like, . . .

when we work together, we get done fast!

families work.  that’s what they do.  they work.

look at all of us working together.

Santa and Father Christmas

When we had the opportunity to see Santa, I asked Naso if he’d like to do that.  He said, Yes, I have never done that before.  I told him that we actually have a photo of him sitting on Santa’s lap before he came to us.  He said, What?!  No!  That was Father Christmas!

Santa:  What would you like for Christmas?

Naso:  I think you are the fake Santa.  Will you tell the real Santa what I want?

Santa:  Yes, of course.

Naso:  I want one of those things you shoot (playing charades desperately).  It has a thing and you pull it back and then a long thing with a tip on it that shoots people.  But I don’t want a real one.  I just want a fake one.  I don’t want to hurt anybody.

Me (interjecting):  A Bow and Arrow?

Naso:  Yes!!!!!  A fake bow and arrow.  Your beard is not real.

My Scar

Overheard at 8:55am one morning last week . . .

Mom, Mom!  I need my scar!

Your scar?

Yes.  It is very cold out and I can’t leave without my scar.

Hmmm, are you talking about Harry Potter?

What?

Tell me what your scar looks like.

It is so cute.  It has little fishies and lots of colors and you wrap it around here (motioning to his neck) and it keeps me warm.  I can’t go without it.

Oh!  I think you are talking about your scarf.

Yes!  My scar!

Sironka Massai Dance Troupe

The Sironka Massai Dance troupe, from Kenya, came to our school for a performance a couple of weeks ago. 

After they lined up, Naso watched them intently.  “Mom, where are all of the brown people?” he said as he scanned the crowd.  I told him I was pretty sure they were all up front.

Some seriously high jumping going on.

Kenyan:  Does anyone here speak Swahili?

Naso:  Do I speak Swahili?

Me:  You speak English.

Naso:  Cool!  What does English Sound like?

Later, . . . . .

Naso:  What language is that guy speaking?

Me:  English

Naso:  Ooooh, can you tell me what he’s saying?

Oh, Naso . . . . . .

These guys were seriously cool.  It made me miss South Africa, terribly.

When I motioned and told them Naso was from South Africa, they were so excited.  They touched him all over, inspected his nose and ears and mouth and touched him.  I think it was the first time someone has gotten too close to Naso’s bubble.  Usually he is the one hugging, kissing and touching all over. 

First Thanksgiving Dinner

Naso:  When will I see the Turkey?

Nora:  You mean turkey meat?

Naso:  No!  Gobble, gobble.  (waddling around)

Nora:  Ummm, you’re not going to see a turkey, you’re going to eat one.

Naso:  Oh.  I thought I could just see one and then eat it.  The Indians could kill one for me.