Each week Julia must write a "perfect paragraph" for her literature class.  It is called "perfect" because they are suppose to do a draft, some editing and then write it without mistakes.  This week's topic is about the first time that she did something.  The example of a "first time" was the story of Jackie Robinson playing major league baseball.  Julia understood enough of the story to believe that she should be writing about something important and not merely something like learning to ride her bike.  (I thought bike riding was very appropriate.)  We brainstormed on paper yesterday before Michelle, her therapist came over.  They wrote a first draft together and today she worked on her editing.

This is what she came up with:

Perfect paragraph 2/4/13
Getting a New Family

When I was five years old, I was getting a family for the first time. I was so scared because I didn't want to be with mommy and daddy and Cheshire. I was so sad  because I did not want to leave China. I was squirming on the floor. Mommy and daddy picked me up, and they took me home. They gave me my own bed, and it was cozy.  I sat with my daddy, and mommy carried me around. I felt a little happy. It felt good to put a necklace on my teddy bear. My teddy bear looked cute. My favorite memory of coming home was when I was swimming without a bathing suit and just floaties on to help me not to sink. That's what I felt when I was getting a family, and now we will live in Madison, Wisconsin forever. 

Julia's behavior in school today was not so good.  In social studies, the class is learning to read nonfiction.  They are being taught to check maps, time lines, emphasized words, etc.  Julia is not valuing this instruction and is not listening to directions.  The unfortunate thing is that she likes nonfiction and likes that they are studying Native Americans.  I have no idea of how to explain how valuable this kind of lesson is.  I am sure she is not the only kid who thinks that her lesson is "boring" but she may be the only one to say that out loud.  

On Facebook this past weekend, I let Julia watch a video posted by the mom of one of the kid from Julia's orphanage.  C was a baby when Julia left, and when she first came home, Julia called C her baby when we saw her pictures.  But we never saw the video of when C met her parents.  Julia wanted to watch it and I saw no reason to stop her.  What we saw was Mr. Xiao, the director of the orphanage, sitting next to C, wiping her nose, pointing out her mommy and daddy and sister, all in a relaxed, comfortable manner.  This was nothing like the tight lipped, silent man that we met in August 2006.  My memory of him is pretty bleak.  He was not comfortable with, kind to or loving to Julia.  At one point, he pushed her with a few fingers towards us and said "mama" and "baba" in a gruff voice.  My heart sank when I saw that video.  I know that Julia was not treated well at her orphanage but seeing him kind to another child was too much for me.  Julia recognized Mr. Xiao and the ayias that were with C.  When the video was over, Julia said quietly, "Mr. Xiao didn't like me."  I could think of nothing else to do but scoop her up in my arms and tell her how much I liked her!