Self Portrait Challenge

This month's self-portrait challenge is to show an image portraying a resolution. I chose this picture because I know I need to work on appreciating my daughter more. We adopted her from China last year. I adore her, but it's been a rough year and I need to take more time just enjoying the delightful personality. So with that in mind, here are ten things I love about her.

1. Her volcanic giggle. It erupts out of nowhere and takes over her entire body.

2. Her devotion. She love, love, loves her mommy, daddy and sister.

3. Her unabashed singing. She spends much of her day walking around singing whatever pops into her head.

4. Her self confidence. About 10 times a day she tells me, "Mom, I'm so pretty."

5. Her innocence. She still thinks that by covering her eyes she's hidden.

6. Her wiggles. She comes up with the most inventive dance moves I've ever seen (including the Diaper Dance.)

7. Her forgiving nature. When her sister has wronged her she's very quick to forgive and hug and make up.

8. Her trust. When she's afraid of monsters and I tell her they are nice, she believes me.

9. Her pleasure in little things. Just getting one marshmallow makes her happy.

10. Most important to me, each night when I tuck her in to bed she whispers in my ear, " I love you mommy."

Hawaii

I went swimsuit shopping this afternoon with Gigi while Cleo was at school. It was not fun. No, I tell you, not even a little bit.

I wandered the aisles of my chosen store looking for the suit that would hide my cellulite, accentuate only those curves that I wanted attention drawn to, didn't reveal too much derriere, and one I could chase kids around while on the beach in Hawaii.

After accumulating at least a dozen varieties, thinking that the more options I tried the more likely I was to find my dream suit the nice saleslady found me an extra large dressing room so I could wheel the stroller in with ease and still have plenty of room to evaluate myself in the mirror.

I tried on several, each worse than I could have possibly hoped. Parts of my body I haven't seen in years jiggled like there was a constant tremmer vibrating from the floor of the dressing room. No matter how still I stood, my body didn't cooperate. Each suit was worse than the last. Price, color, and texture became a non issue as all I wanted to do was find a swimsuit that made me look 20 pounds lighter and 15 years younger.

Finally, I decided I must lower my standards. I re-tried a couple of the suits that I wasn't as horrified by and finally decided on one almost identical to the last swimsuit I purchased.

And, feeling inspired by the frightening experience I went straight to the shoe department and bought tennis shoes, the first I've owned in years and years with hopes that they will help me look less like I do now, and more like I want to be.

So why did I title this post Hawaii? We'll be taking a family trip there the first week of March, and I have a feeling that I won't be able to avoid the beaches and pools that abound in this paradise.

Theme Song

If my life had a theme song then today it would "I Like To Move It, Move It," as sung and danced to by the rodents in Madagascar.

Why you ask? Well, today I found out we're moving. Again.

Virginia, the state we bid farewell to a mere 18 months ago is where we'll be headed once summer hits. I'm wildly excited, a bit aprenhesive, and a tiny bit pleased that I can now say we've moved 8 times in 11 years--nearly reaching the number of moves my parents made when they were in the same stage of life that I find myself now.

Reasons I'm happy to be moving:

1. I can stop worrying about school. We'll be living in a great school district and I can hand choose a school with 1/2 day kindergarten for Cleo, and I have a few ideas about where to send Gigi for preschool a few hours a week.

2. We'll have a house. This means no more trips to the laundry mat, a yard for my kids to play in,a garage to park my new car in, a place for to ride bikes, and walls we can paint and hang pictures on.

3. All our our belongings will be in one place, not the 4 places they are now. Stored items that will be recovered are my sewing machine, my crock-pot, my grandmother's china, my mixer (I can't wait to make oatmeal chocolate chip cookies again), our piano (I'm thinking of taking lessons in a few years).

4. I have friends and family in Virginia. My sister-in-law lives there and our kids adore her, as well as the many friends I made while living in Virginia before. Even if we live 45 minutes away from both my sister-in-law and our previous home-town, we'll still have access to people who make me laugh.

5. We should be able to manage our Virginia tenants better if we are on sight and available to monitor their occupancy better.

Reasons I'm apprehensive:

1. As with any move, this could be temporary. I don't think we'll be there for more than 3 years--but even that long in one place would be wonderful!

2. Moving is sooo much work--finding just the right house, getting new doctors, pediatricians, figuring out the church situation, finding babysitters I trust who live nearby, let alone coordinating our move with movers, packing, unpacking, organizing, etc.

3. Humidity. This may seem trivial, but anyone who has spent August in Virginia will vouch for the impact this has on daily life. A day that is only 80 degrees will feel like 105, and many days are much warmer than this.

4. Expense. While it will be significantly less expensive to purchase a house in Virginia, it will still be pricey. And with the housing market there currently unstable, if we don't stay for more than a few years we could lose money in a very significant way when we sell.

5. We have only 6 months to visit and see everything in California we want to see--not a lot of time considering we've only been into San Fransisco once so far. There are still the Redwoods to see, all of Southern California including Sea World, Disneyland and the San Diego Zoo and so, so much more.

So, if you're planning on visiting us, do it soon, or you'll have to re-route to Virginia.

Mother Bears

It's commonly known that mother bears are fiercely protective of their cubs. With some quick searching online I found this statement:

Mother bears will not leave their cubs. They are very protective. She will hide her cubs nearby (to keep them safe) while she hunts or fishes. She will put them in a place where they are still nearby, but where other animals are not likely to notice the cubs.

If a mother bear feels that her cubs are in danger, she will fight to the death to protect them.

Today I wasn't just a mother, I was a mother bear, and the incident still has me shaking.

I decided to take the girls to the M-Store for lunch. Since my husband is out of town, and Cleo doesn't have school today, and I need absolutely nothing from the store, I thought this would be a good way to get out of the house, get some play time in for the girls, and fix my Diet Coke craving. I got the girls ready, loaded them in the car and drove to the local golden arches. The girls had their usual--nuggets, apple dippers and milk, while I had a large drink and a chicken sandwich. As is typical, both took forever to eat, but with the option to go and play in the outside play-structure they both eventually finished their food. I sat on a bench while the girls happily climbed up giant tubes, slid the slide frontwards, sideways, and backwards, and was eventually joined by other mothers watching their kids play.

We'd been there about 25 minutes when a middle-aged man in a cowboy shirt and baseball hat parked his truck on the side of the play area and yelled over the fence something to the effect, how fun it looked and what were the rules about playing there. As it happens I was sitting closest to him, and not sure what else to say, I yelled back that the kids were all enjoying it and that I wasn't sure what the rules were exactly, but you had to be under a certain height to play. He walked away and the other mothers commented that he was sort of creepy and that if he came into the play area they would leave. Well, a few minutes later he did came back.

He jumped over the fence and dove up the tubes. There weren't any kids in it at the time, but I immediately told Cleo and Gigi it was time to get their shoes on.

Instead of obeying me, Cleo dashed up the tube. I instantly had a sick feeling and grabbed Gigi to keep her from following Cleo. Seconds later I heard Cleo scream so I left Gigi and raced up the tubes. I could instantly see Cleo and that the man was blocking her route down so I yelled at Cleo to come to me and he inched around another corner so I couldn't see him anymore. I dragged a crying and scared girl down, grabbed Gigi put their shoes on them and told the other mothers what had happened. While I was doing this he came back down and jumped the fence again and then hung out by his truck. One mother called the police as I went inside with my girls and told the manager who had already been advised that their was a strange man in the play area, but was shocked to hear that the man was in the tubes. I then took the girls to the car, with Cleo asking me why that scary man had tried to scare her and me offering Ice-Cream to somehow make it all better.

I'm sickened that some man would attempt to scare my kids, or even do something worse while I was right there watching. I'm mad that my predator instincts didn't kick up as soon as I saw him. I'm angry that Cleo went right up that the tube to when I said we were leaving. And I'm mad that the Manager didn't do something the first time he was told that there was a man hanging around the play area. And I'm mad at myself because I could have just as easily been inside getting a refill for my stupid drink instead of watching my kids. I'm horrified that it happened so quickly and that the creepy guy could have just as easily jumped the fence taking one of the kids with him. I want a re-do, so I can leave before he comes, so I can be sitting where I can grab Cleo before she goes up the tube, or the opportunity to kick they guy in the shins while I'm wearing cowboy boots and gouge his eyes with my straw while he crumbles in a heap of pain for even thinking about a child and begs my forgiveness and promises to turn himself into the police for further pain and humiliation.

Accents

My oldest daughter moved up to a primary class for the children turning five this year. We have an amazingly organized primary and so we spent Saturday morning at a pajama primary party meeting her new teacher. I carefully explained to Cleo that everyone was supposed to wear their pajamas but she steadfastly refused. Even when I offered to let her wear her Cinderella jammies that are 1 1/2 sizes to small. She said the kids would laugh at her, so I hauled her to the party in full dress--dotted knit pants, navy shirt with sequins and a bright daffodil yellow cardigan (yes, I know I'm imposing my love of cardigans on my daughter, but that's my perogative as a parent.) When we arrived Cleo was assigned a sticker and told to follow the yard path of matching color. She took one look at the tangle of kids climbing over chairs and each other in their quest and burst into tears. So, instead of dropping her off in the safe care of the primary and running to the car to read my novel I carried/dragged a terrified child to meet her new primary teacher. Once at the assigned blanket, overseen by an affectionate and large Fijian woman I introduced Cleo and thought I'd try again to make a dash for freedom. You probably aren't surprised to find this pathetic escape attempt didn't work. But I was. I spent the next 45 minutes sitting on the floor inching Cleo closer to her loving primary teacher. By then end of our time, Cleo was at least not crying, but still refused to speak to anyone other than me.

Fast forward to this morning. I dressed and fed my girls and headed for church where we spent an hour enjoying our first meeting together then prepared to drop my kids off at their respective classes. Both girls ended up going, but not after a few tears and my promise to return just as soon as my class ended. By the end of our meetings, I fetched both girls--now happy and beaming about their new teachers and what they had learned. The best part was when Cleo explained the following in response to questions about how she liked her new teacher.

"Well, I like her. And she speaks a kind of English, but like Chinese. Like this. " At this point Cleo lowers her high soprano voice to what sounds like a baritone and says, "Kids, if you have any questions just ask." Then she raised her voice and replayed her response. "I certainly will. And I will obey the truth by being good." This cracked me up, and I wish I had the guts to tell her teacher about her cute impersonation, but since I don't know this woman very well, I'd be afraid of offending her with Cleo's description and mock-deep voice.

ITCHY

I'm itchy. My arms, legs, neck and even the inside of my ears itch. My lips are swollen and my skin is beet red in vicious scratch marks from my scalp to the in between my toes. All this because I ate three sticks of celery. Healthy, organic celery. I'll now add this to my growing list of forbidden foods which include:

Sunflower Seeds--a terrible learning experience. I was 5 months pregnant and just settling into a 5 hour flight when I turned red and my lips went numb.

Mystery Pasta Sauce--after feeling particularly itchy on the long drive home from a restaurant I discovered that my skin had turned the color of my hair.

Mango--found out at 16 that mango and I do not agree after my grandmother offered me some of this divine treat.

Banana--swollen lips and tongue made for a quick trip to the emergency room for a shot of epinephrine.

Unidentified Salad Dressing--my face, neck, tongue and lips swelled to the point I was having difficult breathing and we made a mad dash to the emergency room in a France. NOT FUN. Made worse 6 hours into the experience when my irritated husband offered to remove my IV line for me so we could get our kids away from the gunshot victim and his buddies.

I would pontificate more, but I'm trying to decide of the 3 Benadryl tablets are working or if I need to wake my kids up and take them on a field trip to the ER.