If You Don’t Have Anything Nice To Say….

This is a contribution by Jasmine. She had an assignment to write an essay on a phrase that has had some meaning in her life.

So this morning, I finished writing a paper for my English class about why it’s okay to be mean. By request, here it is.

We have all experienced that moment squirming in our seat, biting our tongue, that odd chuckle that escapes our lips as we died inside trying not to laugh at the extremely funny but rude comment that has built up inside of us. We must contain ourselves. The phrase we have heard a hundred times from our parents, “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all” rings in our ears. Yet, we have also found ourselves at times blurt out the inappropriate comment and suffocated laughing at our own joke. We had no remorse; it had to be done. 

My grandmother used to say the same thing, almost. I recall many memories sitting in the tall wooden chairs of her old-fashioned kitchen listening to the room echo with laughter, at one’s expense of course. You occasionally hear a new comer, who has not yet learned the ways of our sarcasm, complain of the pain this joke has impaled into their feelings. Then, the wise words of my grandmother can be heard, “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. Unless it is REALLY funny.” Then the laughter will once again break out at this wisdom.

Although it might seem rude and as though we have no self-control, there is something we call all learn from these words. Living here, in the small town, I have noticed that anything that could in any way offend anyone is off limits. People just will not say it. There is always more than one view point and often, for good intent, people will look only at the view of those it could possibly offend. My grandmother’s words have impacted me, I have the ability to laugh at myself and find the humor in things rather than the harsh rude view that many around me see. Please, do not think that my family and I look for opportunities to say something mean. The rule is to not say anything mean, unless it is REALLY funny. My family might have a mean sense of humor and sarcasm, but I would rather live in a house filled of impolite laughter than a home filled with political correctness where I would have to think twice about every word that comes out of my mouth

Hugs Mom  (I did have Jasmine’s permission to share this)

(In fact, I told her when she wrote it, that I was putting it on my blog. She has since asked a few time if I shared it yet.)


Llama Drama

Have I mentioned that my Little Princess can be quite the Drama Queen? (and, No., it has nothing to do with me referring to her as a “Little Princess”) (in fact, if she heard that, she’d be correcting me. She’s not “little”. She’s “big”, she’s 3 now.)

Jasmine & I were looking at something on the internet. I no longer remember what, but at the time we were very interested & getting into a good discussion about it. Poor little Addis was being ignored. She wanted me to go upstairs with her, but I was busy ignoring her & focusing on Jasmine.

She tried, several times, to convince me that what she needed me upstairs for was important & she was tired of waiting! No avail.

What’s a Princess to do? Literary recitation.

“Llama Llama Red Kajama, waiting waiting for his mama! Llama Llama Red Kajama weeping wailing for his mama! Mama Mama run run run!!”

THAT got my attention!

Bella Brown; part 2

A few months ago I posted about hearing the Dreaded Words https://peanutbutterinjerasandwiches.wordpress.com/2011/12/29/bella-brown/

Well, today was somewhat of a redemption to that sad remark.

Jasmine has off this week, & spent it bonding big-time with Addis. Lovely! Addis looks at her sister today, with a very sad face, sighs & says “J’min, I wish you was brown”.


I told her, “Addis, sometimes I wish Jasmine were brown too. But I love her anyway, just the way she is!”

The first “issue” that came to mind was race. It was maybe 6 months or so ago when Addis first started remarking on race. And it hasn’t been a lot. But whatever comes out of her mouth is just the tip of what is in her heart or mind. It makes me think she started processing it earlier than when she shared any ideas about it with us.

The next issue is bonding. Bonding is on-going. Yes, from the first day I took custody of her in Ethiopia she seemed to “know” she was With me. (I say it was as if they-the orphanage- told her “this will be your Mommy now”…which I KNOW they actually DID, but she was just 19 months old, being told & knowing it are worlds apart!) As an adoptive parent, you want to make a notch in your belt for each indication of bonding! (okay, maybe You don’t, but I do, so we’re just gonna go with that story)

The other day when I came home from work, I told her “I missed you so much while I was at work! Did you miss me too??”. I often ask her this!, and she often ignores it. This time she rubbed my cheek & said “Mommy I will always always be here”. mmmmelt!!Does it get any better? I’ve had this girl for 18 months. I imagine there will be a time in the future that I won’t be making those mental notches. I don’t know if that will is something to look forward to or not.

What would I do without this girl? What would our family be without her? Not everyone who persues an adoption finishes with a child. Thank God our’s did, & thank God this is the child given to us. What a gift.


You Dog Dead

A little power can go to your head. Especially if you’re two.

Our little one has been dragging our dog around by her collar. Twisty is NOT happy about it, but does not realize she has the abilty to protest. Addis also likes to announce “Twissy MY dog” as she’s bossing her. (you see where this is going, right?)

This causes arguements with big sister Jasmine, who tries to insist that Twisty is actually her dog.

When Jasmine was 6 months old we got Beans. Beans was the sweetest dog. Ever. A little thing, about 10 pounds, he was a daschund mix. He thought Jasmine was absolutely wonderful. As she (& he) grew, he put up with all sorts of abuse from her. She’s drag him around, pile stuffed animals on him, dress him, tie him to her little bike…all of which he tolerated & never complained about. He lived to be 16, and then we had to put him down. Which was devestating. And, it was 2 years before Addis came home.

Even though he’s gone, Beans is often mentioned here, & of course there’s a few pictures of him around. (ya know, maybe it’s a good thing he’s gone…Addis’s feelings would be hurt because he would be annoyed with her attention, Beans would be frustrated with her, Jasmine would be protective)

So….back to Twisty…. Addis is dragging her around, Twisty is looking miserable, & Jasmine is trying to spring the dog from the domineering 2 yr old saying

“Let go, she doesn’t want to go with you.”

“NO! Twissy MY dog!”

“You have to let her go”

“NO! Go get you OWN dog, Twissy MY dog!”

“Addis, Twisty is My dog.”

“NO J’min! Twissy MY dog! You dog DEAD J’min.”