Learning to Cry

The girls have shown that they are strong little people. They need to learn to cry. Thankfully it is beginning to come. Gadisae tends to cry easier than Mesai does, but it still took time. At first, tears would just well up in their eyes - tiny little pools in the bottom of their eyes. But now we have little streams of tears.

This is a good thing.

But Mesai still has to learn to talk about her problems. She tends to give in when Gadisae and she have an 'issue'. Or she walks off when she is upset. Today, I was not around when something happened, and I found her sitting at the picnic table doing nothing. It was strange, as she has been happy the whole time she has been with us, but for no apparent reason she was sitting there looking down in the mouth.

I asked her if she was sad. As I did this, I wondered what I would do if she said yes?! I realized how I had taken it for granted that our new daughters had transitioned so nicely and simply into our family. What would I do if this child who couldn't speak my language was to tell me she was sad? How would I find out what saddened her?

I left her and went back to the front of the yard and asked my husband if something had happened. Austin told me that there was an issue with the skateboard between the two girls. It wasn't clear who was in the wrong, but that was all I needed.

I went back to Mesai and took her by the hand and led her into the house. It was naptime anyway, so I then called Gadisae in as well. After they were both washed up and ready for nap, I took them into their room and then tried to talk to Mesai. I had to play many word games to get her to understand what I was asking her, but in the end I got what I needed. She had been hurt by her sister, and Gadisae verified this.

I explained to her through mime and very simple words and facial expressions that when her sister hurts her, she is to say, "You hurt me." I had her practice saying the words to Gadisae, and then Gadisae, who clearly understood what had just taken place in my conversation to Mesai, immediately, without prompting, said to Mesai, "Sorry."

At this point, I taught Mesai that the words she was to say are, "I forgive you." We followed through with this, and yet Mesai still had a morose look. She takes a while to get things put away. Gadisae hugged and kissed her sister, and I told Mesai that saying, sorry and I forgive you, meant that her heart was now happy and she needed to forgive and move on. I touched her heart to try to show her what I meant. It is very difficult when you have a language barrier and you are trying to establish new ways at the same time!

She smiled when I said this, and I do think she understood. She takes a while to get over things, but it is not often that she gets upset. Hopefully, soon she will learn to tell people when they have hurt her, rather than walking away and being alone.

The other day, Mesai fell off the tire swing, and the boys came running to tell me she was hurt. I went out there, and she had tears all down her face. I picked her up and took her to the house and then wiped off her leg and set her in a chair. It is interesting how the little things we take for granted are things that are so important to teach to a child that comes from another culture; Things that are critical to showing how they are loved.

I had told Mesai previously that when a child in Canada gets an owie they get a kiss from mummy. One day, she had hurt herself, and she had gone off by herself. This was the first time I realized this was her way of handling things. So I got my Amharic book and went after her. I asked her if she had a "Koosil" (owie) and she said, yes. I told her in Amharic that it was okay to cry. I did this because she never cried - just got quiet and withdrawn. I then said that in Canada mummies kiss koosills.

I took her hand and looked for a little owie and then kissed it. I am sure she thought I was nuts. Why on earth would a person kiss a bruise, or cut? *smile*

That night, when I was tucking the girls into bed, I asked Mesai, "What do mummies do to koosills?" And she replied, "Kus em" (kiss them). I was so pleased to see she remembered. I then made a game of finding her owies and kissing them. Then Gadisae looked at her arms and legs until she found a little scratch.

It is so rewarding when we make little break throughs like this! And since that time, they have had a few opportunties for me to kiss their owies. They are not yet at the place where they remember that I will do it for them, but they accept it when I do.

But that day, when she fell off the tire swing, I took it a little farther - anything to make a connection. I took her in the house and did something I never do. I made a big deal of her owie. My boys are tough. You fell? Oh, well, you're fine. Up you get. And they do!

Well, not this time. I remembered what I had heard about sugar. I went upstairs and dug around in my closet to find this unopened bag of suckers I had. I brought one downstairs, opened it, and popped it in Mesai's mouth. I said, "Little owies - no sucker. Big owies - treat." She smiled and sat there sucking her sucker until it was gone.

I had read that sugar was a good way of connecting. Interesting, since we don't give our kids candies, except on holidays. But I do know from personal experience that when we have a lousy day, or a crazy day, we want something: it might be chocolate, or icecream or other things like that, and the feeling that item gives us makes us feel good. Well, the sucker tasted good, and it would remind Mesai that I got an owie and Mummy made me *feel* good, in a way she could remember.

Hopefully soon the girls will come to me when they have a hurt. In the meantime, it is enough that they accept my cuddles, and allow me to comfort them when they are sad or injured.