Peanut Butter Importer

September Updates

2008-09-11T15:39:00.002-05:00

Yes, I'm getting very lazy about posting here. Mostly I find that I don't have any creative spin to write with, and when I do, I spend that moment of productivity playing Candyland, packing school lunches, taking out the trash, or sneaking in a chapter of whatever I'm reading at the moment. But, so you know, things are good.

Cleo started first grade and now occasionally eats more than a bite or two of her sandwich at school. She's also taking art lessons and begins ballet today. She is lucky to be in the same class as two of her best friends from last year so it's the same moms hanging out before and after school, and the same group for play dates, etc.

Gigi began pre-school this week. She likes it in concept, but gets teary when it's time for mom and dad to leave. So far she's liked it, and seems to talk non-stop about the projects she's working on, the rules of the classroom, and how she wants to be just like Sharpei (in High School Musical). She's also starting ballet classes, which fits her desire to be a diva.

David is a great sleeper, but has a cold right now so he's up a fair amount. He's almost six months old, and huge! I think he weighs at least 20 pounds and will confirm that next week at his check-up. He's starting to crawl, and when he sees something he wants nothing can stop him from crossing the room to get to it (except walls, shoes, tables, chairs, a distracting toy.) His eyes are still bright blue and even his ripples have ripples.

I'm a busy person these days with constant meetings and projects at Cleo's school and at church. Diet Coke keeps me going most days, along with help from my spouse and nice friends who are willing to carpool my kids when I'm behind.

JL is back at work and busy as ever. He's not able to put off work travel for any longer and will be overseas for a week in October, and other trips closer to home.

OH--gotta run, I can hear David in his crib growling that he is awake.

Why Blog When You Can Nap?

2008-06-12T18:57:00.003-05:00

It's been a whirlwind 12 weeks since David joined our family. Things are going really, really well. He's so easy going, sleeps up to 6 hours in a row at night, and doesn't mind being carted to school, ballet, swimming lessons, or shopping. He does drool a lot, and spits up fairly frequently, but is such a doll I happily clean his face-shirt-arms-pants.

Here's some funny things that have been said since he joined our family.

By Dad: He's a reasonable baby.

By Cleo: Do you need me to stay home from school to help take care of David?

By Gigi: (After a discussion of stretch marks) Good job stretching, Mom.

Aunt Heidi: David forgot to get in the chin line in heaven, but got in the nose line twice.

My recovery from the C-section went quite well. I'm walking upright and am pain free--neither of which I was at this point after having Cleo.

David, to his credit, now weighs in at 14 pounds (exactly what Cleo weighed at 12 months, and Gigi was at 14 months.) It's bizarre to have an average sized baby--they eat and sleep so much better than a preemie does! He feels so sturdy and strong compared to my other two children when they were young.

Naturally, I'm tired, and am looking forward to sleeping through the night, but now that I'm getting up to 6 hours in a row life has become quite manageable.

I'm having issues with my computer--so no pictures for this post. I'm crossing my fingers for a Digital SLR for my birthday, so with luck I'll get some great pictures soon.

In other family news, Cleo's last day of kindergarten was celebrated today with a luau. I still can't believe she's a school girl, though now that she wears glasses (pink or purple depending on the outfit) she looks a bit older despite being so tiny. She's already looking forward to first grade and told me in the car that we need to start shopping for"a really pretty pair of jean-pants with hearts on them and a cute shirt with a rainbow for the first day of first grade."

Gigi is now signed up for pre-school. After agonizing over where to send her and not finding any options I was happy with, I got a slot in our city run program that's only a mile from our house! Beginning in September, she'll go three mornings a week. She's so smart, but I worry about her being shy with strangers and crying about leaving me like she does at primary. Also, it's been exactly three years since we adopted Gigi! I can't believe it's gone so fast. Just this week I befriended someone through school who is from the same province as Gigi and she invited me to visit her family there anytime we visit. Wahoo!

JL is still working away. After taking a hiatus from work travel because of our addition, he's now gearing up for more travel--possibly international. As long as I get enough sleep I'm okay with this, though of course I'd rather have him home.

Lastly, if anyone is looking to buy a cheap house in Virginia, let me know. Our home there is like a big black hole--sucking money and time and giving back nothing but anxiety.

Introducing....

2008-03-25T17:50:00.003-06:00

David Calder

Born Sunday March 16th, at 1:07 am (missing his parents 12th wedding anniversary by an hour)
10 days late
7 lbs 8 oz
20 inches
Prominent nose, dimpled chin, and blond hair with a hint of red (just like his oldest sister)
Born via C-section after 16 hours of induced labor due to low heart-rate and failure to progress

Mom and baby are doing well and his big sisters are smitten. Dad is also recovering well and learning what the life of a stay-at-home-mom and parent of three is all about.

Paperwhites

2008-03-13T19:04:00.002-06:00

For Christmas I was given a paperwhite bulb kit. The instructions were easy and they were guaranteed to bloom within 4-6 weeks of planting them in the provided pot. Thinking it would be fun, I postponed planting the bulbs until 6 weeks before I was due and told myself that when the flowers blossomed I'd have the baby.

I've been watching my paperwhites for 7 weeks now. They've sprouted multiple 12 inch green stocks, but week after week they've failed to blossom. I've (my doctor and I) have decided that it's not longer important to have the flowers bloom at the same time I have the baby, and to go ahead and induce tomorrow.

I'm excited, but leery, knowing that this really increases my chances of having a c-section, and the OB was quick to tell me that if things don't go perfectly routinely that a c-section is likely to happen. I was even told by my doula that she's surprised they are even still letting me try for a VBAC, since I'm a week overdue, and they are more successful earlier on.

My next post, whenever that may be, should announce the arrival of our baby! Wish me luck!

"My legs feel like they have Mexican jumping beans implanted in them."

2008-03-10T14:27:00.003-06:00

This is how my friend Sarah describes how her legs feel right now in late pregnancy, and I have to say I wholeheartedly agree. Leg issues are one of my biggest issues right now. When I try to sleep I wake up with the uncontrollable urge to move them. So for the past several nights I've gotten up between 1 and 4 at least twice and gone on a 1/2 hour walk looping my kitchen island and table, then done the stairs as many times as I can manage, and then done what stretches I can figure out to make the unbearable sensations go away before attempting to go back to bed again.

JL has a theory about this. He thinks that my restless legs, and continual walking are sending a message to the baby saying "don't come out yet--we haven't reached safety." I think my body is doing this to get my body read for the restless nights that come with a newborn. Either way, I'm tired of having my legs feel like they belong to someone else and hope the feeling goes away after delivery.

Speaking of delivery, there are no signs that anything is happening. At my last ultrasound, when the tech was measuring the fluid levels, she commented that there was plenty of fluid for the baby to stay inside another month! This is exactly what I don't want to hear! Usually your fluid levels drop as your body prepares to deliver, but mine are slowly rising, and creating a La-Z-Boy environment for our little guy. Maybe if it were less comfortable in there he'd consider coming out! At my next appointment in 3 days, when I'll be 41 weeks, we'll talk induction, but I doubt it would happen sooner than next week since my appointment is on a Thursday, and they won't want to rush it, or do it on the weekend. Here's hoping things happen naturally before then.

Zip. Zilch. Zero.

2008-03-07T01:26:00.002-06:00

Nada.

Nothing.

That's right. It's March 6, 2008. The day I've been counting down to for the past 9 months, and I've got nothin' but a huge stomach and heartburn. It's almost midnight so there really is no chance that this baby will come on time.

At my appointment on Wednesday I was dilated to a whopping 1, and not even fully effaced. So despite the 2 hour walks I've been dragging my husband and kids on every day, I'm not even close to delivering. My OB says that if I make next Wednesday's appointment we'll talk about inducing, which will put me more than a week overdue. I have mixed feelings about this.

On the pro side of waiting it out, I know that the baby can't stay in here forever (right?), a few more nights of sleeping in more than 3 hour stretches (if I'm lucky) won't hurt, and that my labor is likely to be smoother if I let nature, and this baby, take its course. Also, inducing is more hazardous with a VBAC, and is more likely to end in another c-section than waiting it out. One totally irrelevant plus is that Cleo will be able to go to a classmates birthday party this weekend if the baby isn't born yet.

On the con side, I'm just really, really uncomfortable. I may be sleeping in slightly longer stretches than what a newborn allows for, but I'm not sleeping well. It' takes me 5 minutes just to roll over and find a new less-painful position to rest in once my body in. And I'm still up all the time peeing, with heartburn, trying to rub my overtaxed and aching joints, etc.. Also, JL is officially on paternity leave and while his work is very generous with their leave for new fathers (they offers 6 weeks paid paternity leave, but he really isn't able to take it all thanks to various factors), so the clock is ticking. Additionally, we plan to fly my in-laws in as soon as we hit the hospital and their schedules are much more flexible in the next few days than they will be by the end of next week, though I know they'll make it either way.

My OB did re-offer the option of having a scheduled c-section, but I immediately ruled this out. My recovery from having Cleo via c-section was really, really awful. I couldn't walk upright for weeks and weeks, was in constant terrible pain (thanks to drug allergies that severely limited what I could take), and still have pain from the incision. I can't imagine trying to recover from this type of surgery while caring for our two girls and a demanding newborn.

There is one bit of irony in all this. Our doula and the friends that are planning on watching the girls for us when it's hospital time are all planning to be out of town either the whole weekend or all day Saturday and will be a minimum of 4 hours drive away. If Murphy's Law holds true, I'll deliver right when the help we've been planning on for months is the least available.

Waiting And Hoping

2008-02-29T13:56:00.003-06:00

I'm definitely getting tired of this whole pregnancy thing. Everything hurts from my hips, to my feet, my neck and my back, even my fingers feel tired. But, at a check-up with my OB on Wednesday there was no indication that this baby has plans to come out soon, despite my hopes that we'd have a Leap Day Baby. So this weekend the plan is to walk, and walk, and walk. I'm technically not due for another 6 days, but I'm so uncomfortable I'd welcome a delivery this instant!

Two More Weeks

2008-02-20T23:32:00.002-06:00

Tomorrow I'll hit the 38 week mark and boy am I feeling it. This is a full month futher than I carried Cleo and I just had no idea my stomach could get so huge or be in the way so much. I've given up on socks, shoes that require buckling, and picking things up off the floor except under duress (visiting teacher coming and I can't bear for her to see the toys on the floor). Fortunately Cleo and Gigi seem to be amused with my current physique and are almost always happy to help as long as I couch the request with a funny remark about my giant belly. They've taken to kissing my tummy goodnight, and frequently give their baby brother hugs by wrapping their arms around the expanse that is now my middle. JL has been a trooper, and has learned how to start the washer and dryer, as well as the dishwasher--a first in our marriage. Soon I'll need him to unload the dishwasher because I can't fit in the narrow space between it and the cupboards that most of the dishes go into. I'll visit the OB tomorrow, and will probably learn that I'm nowhere near delivering, but I could get lucky and be told to go straight to the hospital! Ah, wishful thinking.

34 Weeks and Counting...

2008-01-24T18:39:00.000-06:00

I'm officially 34 weeks pregnant and if I were having Cleo I'd be delivering her today. Things are looking great, though, for going full term--my blood pressure is great, Buttercup-Elmo is head down and we've actually finally purchased a car seat so we can bring the baby home from the hospital. We are still at odds over a name, and I'm getting nervous that I'll be out if it after delivery and JL will name the baby whatever he wants, so I'll end up with a name I'm not so hot for, so let the suggestions roll.

In similar news, we've decided to engage the services of a Doula. Having had a less than great experience with my last delivery/ c-section, and having a husband who gets light headed just during ultra-sounds, and not having any family nearby to offer moral support it seems like the right thing to do. I'll have someone experienced who can help me cope with labor, and be with me from the beginning to the end. Interestingly, women who are going after a VBAC (vaginal birth after c-section) like I am are significantly more likely to succeed when aided by a Doula. Recovery from my previous c-section was truly awful, so if this increases my odds of delivering the traditional way, and helps ease my fears about the whole process, I'm all for it.

Lastly, I can't get enough raspberries. I eat 1-2 pints a day, and just close my eyes at the expense since they couldn't be more out of season. JL jokes that it's a cheaper habit than drugs and happily makes runs to the grocery store on his way home from work so I can eat them when the craving strikes.

Dear Santa...

2007-12-16T11:47:00.000-06:00

Wondering what to get a precocious three-year-old and a fun-loving five-year-old? Look no further, your shopping list is below.

Gigi's Christmas Wish List

1. Pink Rock & Roll Guitar (with strap)
2. Rainbow Calendar

Cleo's Christmas Wish List

1. Kid Barbie with Car
2. Hello Kitty Calendar
3. Santa Walking Toy that Sings
4. Pretend Food and Shopping Cart
5. A Tractor (green or pink) to Ride in the Grass

And just in case you were wondering, my wish list:

1. Aunt Dimity Goes West, by Nancy Atherton
2. A really good baby name book
3. An organized garage I can park in
4. A jewelry box
5. Baby boy things

So Santa, if your a blogger, hop to it! You've only got a week or so left!

No News is Good News, Right?

2007-12-04T11:10:00.000-06:00

You may have noticed that I haven't been blogging lately. The truth of the matter is I've been sick, really, really sick with hyperemisis, also known as extreme, extensive, awful, never-ending morning, noon and night sickness. That's right, we're expecting a baby boy sometime around the 1st of March, if all goes well.

We found out just a couple of weeks before moving into our new house, and I've been ill and un-inspired to blog ever since. There's just something about choosing ones food based on how it will taste coming back up that doesn't stir the creative writing juices. I am slowly getting better, and am lots of big drugs to help me get through each day. I also gave up trying to unpack the masses of boxes filling our garage months ago, and instead have focused on just getting Cleo to and from kindergarten each day, and shuttling both girls to ballet class each week while JL takes on more responsibilities at work (in fact he's actually testifying before a senate committee next week.)

The good news is that we're very happy to be expecting a baby boy. Cleo and Gigi are excited to be big sisters, and come up with creative names for their new sibling. The current favorite is Buttercup, which as Cleo rightly points out could work for a boy or a girl. We've promised Gigi that the baby won't chew on Owie (her special towel) and she's determined the baby will sleep in her baby-doll crib with her other stuffed animals.

New House

2007-08-12T00:13:00.000-05:00

We are officially residents of our new house. It's been great, but entirely overwhelming to try to put everything away, deal with items that have been in storage for two years (and don't remember that I own), and adjust to yet another new town. I've found a grocery store I like, we're minutes away from a Target and not much further from some pretty good restaurants, have miles of sidewalks and mountain pathways to go on evening walks on, and the commute seems to be working well for my hubby. When asked what their favorite things about the new house are, Cleo replied her room, Gigi said the toys, Dad says his new desk, and I say the new amazingly soft carpet that hides all dirt and never needs to be vacuumed. I also love the plethora of cupboards in the kitchen, the fact that it is so light and bright inside that I virtually never turn a light on before dark, and having lots of space for the girls to run around.

If there is a downside to our new home it's the lack of a linen closet (I'm a blanket and pillow hoard and own dozens of both), and that I'm having issues with the odors found in a new home like carpet and paint fumes. The fumes will dissipate with help from the strong breeze that we get each evening, but as for the missing linen closet, I guess I need to downsize and just be okay with not being able to house 35 guests.

As for unearthing and unpacking, I've come across things I can't believe I own like a bagel slicer purchased during our family's bagel stage about 8 years ago, 4 whisks, and a total of 7 pie plates. I mean, I really like pie, and I like to bake pies, but when am I ever going to need to make 7 at one time?

The treasure's I've found include a vase purchased on mother's day for me while in The Netherlands two years ago, a small jewelry box that once belonged to my grandmother, and the box containing my wedding dress. It's all sealed, so I can't take it out, but it makes me laugh that I've been lugging it around for 11 years with no real purpose. I wish people had parties where wearing a wedding dress was considered appropriate attire, because then I'd have a reason to wear it again--and laugh at how dated it is already.

Anyway, I'm exhausted from unpacking all day, chasing my kids, and navigating the mounds of stuff that still don't have homes.

Vacation, All I Ever Wanted

2007-06-22T14:56:00.000-05:00

Somehow I don't think this line pertains to being locked in a car with kids for hours on end listening to "Hey, Dum Diddely Deeeee!" screeched/sung by my kids through three states while we drive to my parents' house. And we're not talking east coast states here--these are the big western ones--ones that claim an entire time zone!
Anyway, all this is to explain that we're taking off for a couple of weeks to visit the fam, feed horses, camp, sneeze, remember why we live far away, and then make the long drive back, and once again resume writing for this uber lame blog. Till then, be happy!

How I waste my time

2007-06-18T15:27:00.000-05:00

Like most people, I have a list of blogs I read on a regular basis, and since nothing of particular importance is going on at my house today (other than my postponing organizing for our move) I thought I'd share those sites I check on and why.

In random order:

The Pony Tail Club, at http://ponytailclub.com

This is my very cool niece's blog about all things horse. It's has funny writing, great graphics, and touches on a variety of things related to horses.

Loralee's Looney Tunes at loraleeslooneytunes.com

This blog is written and updated frequently by my college roommate Loralee. She has a crazy and fun life so you never know what what you're going to get.

I don't know this blogger personally, but Kerflop at kerflop.com is a great writer. She and Loralee have become friends so I can claim one degree of separation.

Karen, at artofinvisibility.wordpress.com has my dream job as a children's librarian. I like reading about her library adventures. Yes, I'm a total nerd.

I keep track of my friend Danielle at her blog wakethedinosaurs.blogspot.com She'd love to get comments, so feel free to drop by.

These friends from Virginia, travandmel.blogspot.com keep me up to date on their families comings and goings, and crack me up when they post their great K-Mart purchases.

I like reading the advice given on www.elderwisdomcircle.org . It's a great concept. People write letters asking for advice, and retirees with life experience respond. The topics range from gardening to divorce, so pretty much everything is covered.

I also like checking in on People.com so I can get my fix on celebrity gossip and find out who's dating who and who's wearing what. It's cheaper than buying magazines.

I also check on the blog JL kept while we were in China, two summer's ago, found at meetgigi.blogspot.com

I like to visit it and see how much my kids have changed, and if any new spammers have posted a message so I can delete it.

There's a few more here and there, but I check these on a daily/weekly basis.

Rehab

2007-06-15T20:02:00.000-05:00

If you've been listening to the radio, you've probably heard Amy Winehouse's latest hit "Rehab." Trying to shelter my my kids, and not field any questions like, "what's rehab, mommy?" I changed the lyrics. Between my my kids hearing the song wrong and attempting to sing along with my helpful encouragement, we now sing the song with new and improved lyrics. I'll post both versions of the chorus below and you tell me which you like best.

Original

They tried to make me go to rehab
I said no, no, no.
Yes I been black, but when I come back
You wont know, know, know.

I ain't got the time
And if my daddy thinks I'm fine
He's tried to make me go to rehab
I won't go, go, go.

Ours

They tried to make me go to recess
I said no, no, no.
Yes I been bad, but when I come back
You won't know, know, know.

I ain't got the time
And my daddy thinks I'm five
He's tried to make me go to recess
I won't go go go.

P.S. Cleo and Gigi totally crack up when they sing "my daddy thinks I'm fiiiive."

Welcome to the House of Popsicles

2007-06-13T15:03:00.000-05:00

If you were to peek in my freezer you'd find it it packed with Dora the Explorer Popsicles, Scooby-Doo Push-up Pops, Dreyer's Natural Vanilla Ice Cream, Breyer's Lite Double Churned Mint Chocolate Chip Ice Cream, and Breyer's French Vanilla Ice Cream. Just beneath these, filling the shelves in my fridge, are two multi-packs of Yoplait's GoGurt featuring Shrek and Fiona, a six-pack each of Jello snack packs in raspberry and chocolate and vanilla pudding, plus two liters of drinkable yogurt.

It's a good thing too, because we're going through them quickly. First, Cleo had her ear tubes removed this morning and is getting a little relief from the Jello and the Dora the Explorer Popsicles. Second, summer has arrived. We're all a little sweaty even though it's only in the upper 80's outside since we live on a really busy street with a freeway very close by, so I can't really open the windows for airflow due to noise--especially during nap time which of course co-insides with the sweltering afternoon. I'm sure looking forward to living in a house with air conditioning again. Let's hope that we're living in one before the real heat of summer hits, or I may have to institute underwear only days.

To Be Fair

2007-06-08T23:05:00.000-05:00

I know I sounded totally and completely judgemental in my last post, so to slightly make up for that here's the short list of ways I'm a terrible mother.

1. I let my kids watch scary movies. Harry Potter, Night at the Museum, Chronicles of Narnia, Wizard of Oz, and all sorts of movies with bad guys, monsters and ghosts--bring 'em all on. My kids, so far, haven't had troubles with nightmares or being too afraid. We just talk about how it's all pretend and they seem to do okay. Similarly, I don't really care if my kids watch Simpsons or other adult cartoons. I do draw the line at stuff like South Park, but then I don't watch that myself.

2. I let my kids stay up late. It's currently 9:10 pm and my kids are still up. They'll probably be up for another half hour at least. Some nights they are in bed by 8:30 or 9:00, if I'm really organized, or if I've had a tough day and just need some peace and quiet. But I sort of like our evenings and so most nights it's 9:20 or even 10:00 before the kids are kissed and tucked in and I'm okay with this. I know this will change when the kids are going to school in the morning.

3. I let my kids eat at McDonald's. Fast food is on the menu at least once a week at our house, and when we lived in France, it was more often than that due to lack of kid friendly restaurants. Similarly, I don't make many home cooked, good for you balanced meals. Thanks to the luck of the draw my husband often comes home from work with gourmet meals for all of us.

4. My kids have cavities. Correction, one of my children has three cavities, the other child is cavity free. I do brush my kids teeth, and floss most days, but the amount of yellow gunk on their teeth is horrifying. Thank goodness these are only their baby teeth.

5. My kids don't get to play outside everyday. This one makes me a bit sad and I'm hoping it changes. We live in an apartment without a yard and to get to our local park we have to load up in our car. I can't wait till we move into our house and have a yard, albeit tiny, and I can scoot them out the back door so they can get their wiggles out.

There are many, many more ways I fail at motherhood, most to personal to mention, but these are the ones that I can mention and still face you all.

Boundaries

2007-06-05T18:27:00.000-05:00

We've been inundated with family visitors. First one set of in-laws (just two), then a whole pack of seven came and stayed at what normally seems like a spacious three bedroom apartment. It was interesting to see how vastly different my parenting style is from my sister-in-law's and how some of it stems from how we were raised--me in a strict household, her in with a very lax, but loving mother. I think another big part of our different styles come from our different lifestyles. Last year we traveled to 11 countries with our two kids, ate at least 1/3 of our meals at restaurants, and were on countless flights where they were expected to be very quiet and stay buckled in their seats for hours on end.

We've moved around considerably and we've never lived where I could let the kids play outside without my immediate presence--due to either lack of a fenced yard, or not having a yard at all. Similarly, I'm the oddity as a stay-at-home-mom in the communities we've found ourselves in, and I guess I take myself pretty seriously. I don't mean to say that I'm inflexible, but I'm not a short-order cook, and don't make meals to satisfy the different pallets of each member of our family. Likewise, I try not to tolerate whining, or make excuses for my kids when they don't act as well as I'd like them too. I find myself rarely using our stroller, because I think my youngest, at three, should be able to walk pretty much anywhere we can, and the five year old is way to old to be using it. So it was with great difficulty that I held my tongue and watched the oldest of my visiting nieces and nephews at 12 years old being pushed around in a stroller because she didn't feel well, thereby kicking out her 1 year old brother from his rightful place.

This was just the beginning, but I'll save my whining or my husband and get to the really big moment of their visit. All of us were at a historic mansion with incredible gardens and a swimming pool. There were strict instructions not to walk on the grass, not to touch the furniture, all the usual warnings to preserve the historic environment, but when the kids got to the pool they couldn't resist. First one cousin, then another peeled off their socks and shoes and put their feet in the pool and proceeded to splash each other. I had to be the grouchy mom, and wouldn't let my kids participate. I didn't mind if they put their hands in the water, but somehow hands=clean play to me and feet=dirty play. While the kids were doing this a man and woman with larger than average cameras were at the opposite end of the pool and began taking pictures of the kids. At first I didn't mind. It went on for a few minutes. I made eye contact with them to make sure they knew I was watching them and they didn't stop. This went on for about 10-15 minutes. Then the kids got interested in a cat that came by and the photographers came to our side of the pool and continued to take pictures. Feeling uncomfortable I walked across the forbidden grass to them and said, "Hi, concerned parent here. Just wondering why you're taking pictures of my kids."

Their response?

"You're not supposed to be on the grass."

Well this set me off. The female photographer began complaining that I was making her feel weird. I was saying that if the situation was reversed then surely they would approach a stranger taking pictures of their children. The male photographer was trying to calm us both down. He did say he should have said something to me sooner about taking the kids pictures, and gladly gave me his business card, but she was very hostile to the end. We ended up arguing for a good 7 or 8 minutes and I still don't think the woman ever understood why I was so upset.

So, you were in my situation, what would you have done? Ignored the photographers? Simply left the area sooner? Taken them on?

Last gripe--I promise. Naturally with all the touring we did the kids and cousins had to pee at every occasion. Cleo is currently 5 years old, but is very tiny and looks like she's 4 at the most. When we go to the restroom, I take Cleo, Gigi and myself and we all go in one stall, no matter where we are, even church. At this stage I would never send Cleo to the bathroom by herself in a public place, or even let her go in a stall by herself. My sister-in-law does let her 5 year old go by herself. Granted, usually she has a bigger sister to go with her, but sometimes that sister is only 7, and they go in separate stalls, in public restrooms--outdoor public restrooms. This really scared me. So readers, tell me, am I a hyper-protective parent, which is what my husband thinks I am, am I a product of my environment or what?

Birthday Girl

2007-05-13T19:12:00.000-05:00

While most bloggers are writing about mothers, I'm bucking the trend because today is Cleo's fifth birthday.
We celebrated with a Hawaii themed party. Cleo chose plastic leis, hula girl party hats, and other in theme decorations. She got to pick what we had for dinner and she picked hot dogs cooked in rolls and grapes, and for her birthday cake we had what we've had every year, strawberry shortcake. Gigi was funny repeatedly saying, "mom, I really don't want any whip cream, just strawberries and cake." In the end she only ended up eating the strawberries and I ate her cake sans whip cream.

As for gifts, Cleo has been scouring our house for loose change to put into her new pink piggy bank, and talking excitedly about the backyard of our new yard house where she'll be able to use the the kitty cat gardening set. We've also been reading and reading and reading all the new books she received, because what's a birthday without books?

As for mother's day, the kids and JL did a great job letting me sleep in, and then surprised me with chocolate, flowers and presents. Unfortunately then we rushed off to the car and took JL to the airport so he can leave for a business trip for a couple of days, then he'll be coming home long enough to drop off his dirty laundry and leave again for another couple of days.

Shoes

2007-05-10T13:42:00.000-05:00

These are my current favorite pair of shoes. I purchased them on a whim last summer at REI. They are actually clogs, with huge thick two inch soles that don't bend a millimeter. I've come to adore them and I wear them practically every day. I wear them so much, and they are distinctive enough that I'm worried I've become known at the preschool not at "Cleo's mom," but as, "the mom with the red shoes." So lately I've been trying to wear other shoes when I go to her school. It's been difficult. It really has. But I'm surviving.

Another Letter from my Daughter's School

2007-05-08T14:31:00.000-05:00

I received this lovely letter when I picked up Cleo from school yesterday.

EXPOSURE NOTICE

DEAR PARENTS:

On Friday 5-4-07 your child MAY have been exposed to the contagious disease that is checked below. The information provided does not replace consultation with your medical provider if your child is ill.

DISEASES THAT CAUSES RASH:

X CHICKEN POX (Varicella)
Onset of symptoms 2-3 weeks after exposure.
Symptoms include fever, irritability, and and itchy rash.
The rash resembles small blisters that first appear on the body, then on the face.
Children may return to school/child care 7 days after onset of the rash and if all the blisters are dry.

My question is, how do I tell her normal irritability from the special chicken pox kind? And with the current heat wave we're having with temperatures reaching 100+ and our home lacking air conditioning, will I be able to tell if she has a fever or rash because she'll just look hot and sweaty like the rest of us?

An Actual Letter from My Daughters School

2007-05-03T23:07:00.000-05:00

Dear Parent,

On Friday we are in need of some real live snails for our snail trails. If possible can you have your child bring in 2 live snails (in a disposable box) to conduct our experiment. Thank you so much!!

My response.

Dear Teachers,

Yes, I'm happy to supply to live snails for the snail trails experiment in a disposable and bio-degradable box. I've borrowed the snails from our neighborhood snail farm, so I will be needing them back. I'm sure you'll have no trouble identifying them as both have light brown spiral shells with dark brown flecks.

Sincerely,

Me

What I've been doing other than blogging

2007-05-01T21:42:00.000-05:00

Yes, it's true. I've been a loser blogger lately, and to make up for it, I'm going to overwhelm you with pictures of my children being cute and information on how I spend my time other than cleaning my house.

Example number 1. Color Walks.

With everything under the sun in bloom here in sunny California the girls and I have discovered that if we bring a plastic sack with us when we go on our daily walk we can collect a sample of every color of the rainbow. Then, when we get home we artfully display said items and jump up and down excitedly when daddy gets home from work and show him. Then when the under five set goes to bed mom sneaks the colorful treasures in the trash (carefully covering with other trash) and we do it again in a week or so. Here's a picture of a recent display.

Example number 1. Collect sap, er, make that giant pine cones!

Keep plastic sacks in car or purse so wherever we go we can keep pine cones and learn tricks to ridding hands, hair, clothing, and counter tops of sap. Admittedly, these really are cool pine cones, I just wish they weren't so sticky!

Example number 3. Make bead necklaces. Fun.

Our local craft store had a big sale on kids crafts and so I let my kids pick out some rainy-day/mom is too lazy to take you to the park projects. We ended up with a two-year supply of plastic beads and laces in rainbow colors. The first day they were fun. Even Daddy got into the action and got online so he could replicate a Jim Morrison's necklace bead by bead. By day three, I was willing to help tie the ends but not interested in creating anymore for my own collection, and now, a couple of weeks later I'm cursing each time I vacuum up one of those damn beads. Anyway, here's a picture of Daddy in his Jim Morrison necklace.

Example number 4. Have a birthday party.

Spring is birthday party season at our house, starting with Gigi. She wanted a princess party, so of course, that's what we had. The best part of the party was decorating the cupcakes.

Example number 5. Potty train.

Yes. Gigi is three. No, she isn't completely potty trained. We're in process. Here's a common scene at our house when I send Gigi into the bathroom to go to the potty. Notice the baby doll sitting in the potty. At least someone has the idea!

Example number 6. Watercolor.

We recently went back to the store where party supplies are found to get everything we'll need for Cleo's fifth birthday, and came across the cutest, do-not-leave-the-store-without-me-watercolor-palettes. I just could not resist. Now, I claim not artistic abilities, but my father-in-law does have an MA in oil painting so there is hope that some of his genes (tee-hee) have skipped a generation (obviously) and made it to my oldest daughter, and who knows what Gigi is capable of! Anyway, just imagining my kiddos as future Turner's or O'Keefe's or whoever's just warmed my heart.

Finished works of art. A rainbow and a mommy and daddy flower with a baby flower and fireworks. Cool.

Body Art

2007-04-23T16:52:00.000-05:00

On our family trip to Hawaii my children discovered tattoos. Since we spent a lot of time on the beach we saw them everywhere, and not one was missed by my clever four-year-old who quickly pointed each one out, exclaiming "look mom, that one is ABC's!," or "wow, that guy has a girl on his arm." The fascination turned obsession after visiting the Polynesian Cultural Center where Cleo got a couple of fake tattoos that she was enormously proud of. She refused to bathe for a couple of days, and only relented when we adequately documented her body art with a dozen or more photos. Finally, on the last day of her trip she proclaimed that she too wanted a tattoo. I explained to her that needles are used to put tattoos on people and hurt a lot. She was shocked, and quickly decided that she really didn't need one.

Things To Do

2007-04-20T13:37:00.000-05:00

With my husband at work till late last night and the kids asleep, I had the house to myself to work on my first ever PostSecret postcard. I had fun doing it and will mail it later today. As I was making it I realized I have a lot of secrets that might just feel good to send on their merry way via the post.

Having accomplished this task I've been meaning to do for so long, I began compiling a list of other things I'd like to do. I'm still working on the list--and it's probably a never ending list, but it was nice to organize my thoughts and modest ambitions.

Not related in anyway to the above discussion is the following list of funny things my kids have said recently.

"Mom, you not so pretty today."

"Maybe if you got that (referring to a commercial for acne medicine) you wouldn't have red spots!"

"Cleaning our house was more fun in France."

"When I grow up I will be in charge of myself...And I will eat what I want...And I will eat ice cream."

"That's too bad, maybe next time I can get some shots," after the pediatrician told us she didn't have the right vaccine.

75 Year Mortgage

2007-04-19T17:38:00.000-05:00

Surround this house with 5 others within touching distance and you've got a good image of our new home. That's right. We've signed hundreds of times on the dotted line, initialled like crazy, and written the first of many checks with hopes we'll be settled by the time school starts in the fall.

The good news: 3 bedrooms, 2 1/2 baths, enormous kitchen, upstairs laundry, loft/playroom, and walking distance to a brand new elementary school and loads of trails and parks.

The bad news: cost 10 times as much as our first house (and that's not counting the upgrades we've get to add), a lengthy commute for the husband, the "mini yard" and very- super-close-I-like-your-new-bath-towels neighborhood houses.

The funny news: as we were signing our lives away the sales woman said excitedly "Oh, look! You've got one of the big lots!" I actually burst out laughing and tears came to my eyes.

But, there's no going back now so I'm fighting buyers remorse with loads of chocolate. Let's hope I'm not too remorseful since I can no longer afford to buy bigger clothes.

Portraits

2007-04-04T21:56:00.000-05:00

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My family has a tradition of having a formal portrait taken of each child when she/he turns four. My own portrait (and that of my siblings) has hung in the living room of my parents for the last three decades. The portraits are really beautiful. There's something magical about a four-year-old's face. It isn't the face of a baby anymore, nor that of an adult but you can see bit of both. I vividly remember having my portrait taken and feeling very special and beautiful in my orange dress, petticoat and black patent shoes. I wore the dress till I outgrew it then had my teddy bear Fluffy wear it for me. And so it was with much anticipation the I prepared for my own daughter's four-year-old portrait. Her dress was purchased in Venice, Italy after shopping for months in stores and online. She's wearing a pearl necklace which was had in China (her little sis has one too.) Even her shoes were greatly debated, and ended up being black matte satin with an ankle strap. Each article of clothing was chosen with care knowing that this picture will hang on my wall till I walls no longer exist. I was lucky, because my sister was able to go with me to the photo session and helped me get Cleo dressed and helped express to the photographer the look I was looking for. The secret about this photo, is that hidden under Cleo's dress are not one, but two Dumdum suckers, offered as a bribe when she got a bit tired of all the hubbub.

Now it's time to start scheming for Gigi's portrait--I can't wait to find the perfect dress--and have one year to find it.

Things I've Learned

2007-03-31T16:07:00.001-06:00

During my Blogging hiatus of the past several weeks I've learned several things.

Children's scissors may say they don't cut skin, but this does not apply to a three year olds hair.
Applying sunblock is useful for avoiding a sunburn. Applying it everywhere but your forehead makes for a very embarrassing week.
It is not possible to get into a locked apartment or locked car without a key during the noon hour. One must wait with a sleeping toddler on shoulder for office to open.
Holding the cable cord in an exact position in order for you computer to have access to the Internet makes one less interested in blogging, commenting, or buying things on eBay.
Seeing candid pictures of yourself in a swimsuit makes one not want to eat for a year.
Paying $3.65 a gallon for gas is not fun.
Having an Ipod Shuffle is fun because your audio book will drown out the screams of your children.
Getting a manicure and pedicure is fun, but only if you own fingernail polish remover so you won't be forced to scratch off the polish once it starts chipping.
When starting a new hobby (needlepoint) it's best to use the right kind of yarn so you won't have to tear out hours of work. It's also not a good idea to start 5 such projects without any idea of what you're doing.
When house hunting speak to the realtor yourself. Otherwise you'll end up with a house with no yard, not enough bedrooms, but it will be great for commuting from.

Self Portrait Challenge #2

2007-03-13T17:30:00.000-06:00

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Here's one more attempt at the self portrait using art.com's artpad. It's fun. If you click the post title it will link you to my drawing and show you how I drew it. I copied Cleo's way of drawing hands and the dress.

Self Portrait Challenge

2007-03-13T17:15:00.000-06:00

This month's self portrait challenge is to use a web tool to create an image. Since I'm lame and don't really have any web skills I used Picasa.

The Naughty Spot

2007-03-13T14:25:00.000-06:00

If you were at my house this morning you may have found yourself being put into "The Naughty Spot" for one or more of the following transgressions.

1. Sneaking leftover Valentine's chocolate.
2. Playing soccer with a Tupperware bin full of tiny beads and having it explode mid-air.
3. Playing with the grandmother clock.
4. Emptying an entire container of baby wipes to clean the boogies off your bedroom wall.
5. Experimenting with gravity by carefully dropping spoonfuls of applesauce onto the carpet.

If you were the mother at my house you may have found yourself coping by doing one of the following:

1. Drinking 2 (okay 3) cans of Diet Coke before noon.
2. Sneaking the rest of the Valentine's Day chocolate while children were in the naughty spot.
3. Ignoring children while buying random stuff on eBay.
4. Praying for a long nap so you can cope happily with the rest of the day after husband informs you he'll be working late, again.

Flip-flop

2007-03-01T01:30:00.000-06:00

More random bits of information rather than a real post.

1. I found out today (tonight) that my older daughter talks in her sleep and my younger daughter sleepwalks.

2. We leave tomorrow for Hawaii. This will be my first time there and I'm pretty excited.

3. Crocs (the shoes) do not come in a size 4 infant. But Carter's makes an even cuter version for just ten bucks.

4. I've just finished reading Dave Eggars book and I'm sorry to say that I just didn't get into it. (Don't hate me.) So to get refresh my reading palette I'm diving into some new Willa Cather tonight.

5. One of my favorite web sites is realtor.com. I love to house shop even in towns I know I'll never live just too see what type of house I could have and think about how I would decorate.

6. I've been at extremes all day. This morning I was tired and very low. Then in the afternoon I was raging and angry for absolutely no reason (other than stress). And now I'm strangely twitterpated with anticipation despite having a bit of a cold and not being in bed asleep yet.

7. I'm still not used to the California weather. I like the rain, but I'm not sure what to think of the people wearing parkas when it's 55 degrees outside.

8. That's about it. Sorry for the boring post.

Literary Digestion

2007-02-24T00:00:00.000-06:00

I've been reading a lot lately. I tend to do this when I'm feeling a bit dragged down by the rigmarole of daily life. I like to bury myself in the lives of imaginary characters and leave dirty diapers, floors desperate for vacuuming and layers of dust on my furniture for the sweet smelling paper of a good book.

I'm not terribly picky about what read, but I limit myself to fiction, with what I always hope to be a compelling story. In my pre-mother life, I was a regular at the library. Once, for a short period, I even got to work as a librarian and I can honestly say that I felt so 100 percent at home I've considered going back to school so I can be a real librarian someday.

(As a total side note, I was once voted by my 4th grade class the most likely to become a librarian, something I was very proud of at the time.)

But, now I find myself not so excited about going to the library. I mean, I like seeing how excited my kids are at the variety of books and their delight in discovering a book they really love and want to take home, but during these visits I'm so busy ushering my children to the children's section that I never have a chance to browse anything even remotely adult-ish in nature.

So, to fix my need for fiction, I've been buying books at Target, Costco, or Walmart. While I'm usually able to find something worth reading, it's generally "chick-lit," or a nice best selling mystery. I can devour one of these in a day or two depending on the needs of my children and how long they nap.

Recently though, I've been noticing that I want to read more than what is available at the huge box stores, and went to a fabulous used book store in our town. While there I grabbed two books by Willa Cather. Years ago I read "My Antonia," and I remember liking it quite well, and have particular memories of a wolves chasing a wedding party. So I dove into Cather's "One of Ours," not sure what I was getting into, but planning to enjoy and finish it in a day or two.

I found, to my surprise, that I couldn't read more than ten or fifteen pages without needing to stop, and digest what I'd read. The words were so much meatier, so much more nutritious and fed my brain and psyche in such a way that to read more would have been overwhelming. So, I'm not saying that I'm going to only read classics from now on, but I can say that I'm much more willing to read something that may be good for me.

So, I'm open to recommendations--for both serious and light fiction.

Free Lunch

2007-02-13T19:47:00.000-06:00

Today the kids scored free lunch, thanks to their slacker mom. Want to do the same for your kids? Here's how.

1. Plan to go visiting teaching precariously close to lunch.
2. Arrive at appointment and have kids complain multiple times of hunger pains.
3. Quiet children with promise of lunch as soon as visit is over.
4. Have children wander into kitchen and beg for apple sitting on the counter.
5. Have good hearted mother of other child offer apples-a-plenty.
6. Leave appointment with apple filled children and think to self "My kids just ate apples, they should be good for one more quick errand."
7. Go to oil change place and wait.
8. Wait more while apples fully digest and childrens' hunger re-emerges.
9. Listen to children complain of hunger pains again.
10. Promise children snacks from vending machine.
11. Find vending machine broken.
12. Decline offer of donuts from stranger.
13. Take kids outside to distract them with rain puddles.
14. Go back inside due to rain.
15. Accept offer of free donuts from professional donut maker who has more than 12 dozen kinds in her car.
16. Watch as kids each eat 3 plus over sized donuts and stranger welcomes quiet that follows.
17. Drive home and put now sleeping kids to bed without additional sustenance.

My First Tagging Ever

2007-02-06T18:59:00.000-06:00

My good friend Karen has tagged me. Since I'm a tagging virgin, I have to admit I was a bit surprised to see my name written in her blog. But, since she was willing to admit 6 weird things about herself, I play and make my own list for you to see.

1. I can't go anywhere without tweezers. In fact, while I've lived for over a year and a half without owning a blow-dryer or a curling iron I own about 15 pairs of tweezers. If I could buy medical grade ones I would. This is probably why my eyebrows have changed shape dramatically over the years.

2. Recently our dishwasher caused a big flood in our apartment and I was directed by the apartment manager to wash all my dishes by hand till the problem could be fixed. With the exception of my first 3 years of marriage, and a couple of years of college, I've always had one. And this is why--I would rather not eat than have to wash dishes by hand. I will gladly eat soup out of the can, eat dry cereal in a plastic baggie, and eat out of any carton than wash a single dish by hand.

3. I have to fill my car's gas tank if it is even a fraction below 1/2 empty. I'm terrified of running out of gas and insist on having a map in the car at all times. You never now when an earthquake will strike and all gas stations will be destroyed and I'll need to save my kids and husband by driving away from the danger zone with my full gas tank.

4. I own a beautiful Grandmother Clock that was a wedding gift from my in-laws, but it hasn't been wound in over 5 years because I can't sleep hearing the incessant ding-dongs all night long. It's a shame because it says the time is 1:58 and has read that for the past four moves we've made.

5. I can't stand to sweat. Yes, this probably explains my expanding girth over the past few years, but really, sweat is just gross. The only exercise I can stand is water aerobics, but being seen in a swimsuit is more acceptable to me than feeling sweaty. In fact, one of the reasons I'm not supper keen on living in California is that I know that come summer, I'll sweat from the heat! Yuck!

6. I wish I'd eloped. My parents eloped and so did both sets of my grandparents, so I always sort of hoped I would too. But, my fiance wasn't into the idea so we did the whole traditional wedding thing. I liked having the dress and vail, but I still wish we'd eloped and my now husband wishes we did too. That said, I'd kill my children if they eloped and didn't involve me for their special day (of course they'll both be 30, have PhD's by then, and won't want a huge wedding anyway.) :)

Random Things

2007-02-02T15:57:00.000-06:00

My daughter Cleo came up to me the other night and began to tell me all her problems.
Her grievances and other important statements and she went on for some time, so I asked her if she would like to make a list. She did and while she counted and explained, I typed.

1. I'm happy.
2. I don't love to go to school.
3. I want to go to France.
4. But we can go back to California the next day.
5. I love my friends.
6. I love my family.
7. I still love my teachers.
8. I love France and California.
9. I love my mommy.
10. My mom is not sick.
11. Mommy goed to the doctor and the doctor drawed on her back.
12. I don't love dinner.
13. I love going to bed.
14. I love breakfast.
15. I love Valentine.
16. I love Garrett.
17. I love my sister, Geeg.
18. I love going to Disneyland and I love princesses.
19. When mom puts me in the naughty spot I get sad.
20. When Dad tells me to eat he says, "You have to eat or I will take your dinner away."
21. I love my toys.
22. I love going skiing with Gramsy and Jason.
23. My family takes me to the doctor when I'm sick.
24. I'm excited for mom to color my numbers.
25. I love singing songs.
26. I love Cinderella and princesses.
27. I love my grandmas and grandpas and my cousins and my sister and my mom and dad.
28. I love brushing my teeth.
29. I love dresses.
30. I love Belle, Sleeping Beauty, Jasmine, the prince.
31. I want my dad to have good manners.
32. I want to have a police officer dolly house and dress and shoes and a car that looks like a doggy.
33. I want to go to France so I can go to Disneyland there and see the princesses.
34. I want all of us to go with us.
35. I love watching movies.
36. I want to have a dinosaur.
37. I want a family dinosaur.
38. I want a sister dinosaur.
39. I want a mommy dinosaur.
40. Sometimes I get sick and I'm sick today with my nose.
41. There's no more.
42. And I don't want you to say nope to me.
43. Just do it.
44. This is a tricky one. Police La-La-La.
45. There's no more.

Helping the Little Guy

2007-02-02T13:04:00.000-06:00

Kiva - loans that change lives" align="bottom" border="0" height="60" width="460">

Want to help someone in need? Try clicking on the above link and loaning money to an entrepreneurial needy person.

Kiva lets you connect with and loan money to unique small businesses in the developing world. By choosing a business on Kiva.org, you can "sponsor a business" and help the world's working poor make great strides towards economic independence. Throughout the course of the loan (usually 6-12 months), you can receive email journal updates from the business you've sponsored. As loans are repaid, you get your loan money back.

Here's how it works.

Using this service, today I loaned money to a goat herder, a coffee maker, an office supplies retailer, and a fruitier (is that a word?).

Just in case the link above doesn't work, it's kiva.org
Go visit, you won't be sorry.

Self Portrait Challenge

2007-01-28T01:38:00.000-06:00

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

2007-01-24T19:20:00.000-06:00

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

2007-01-14T17:49:00.000-06:00

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

2007-01-09T15:42:00.000-06:00

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

2007-01-07T20:07:00.000-06:00

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

2007-01-07T18:18:00.000-06:00

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.

Over the River and Through the Woods

2006-12-20T10:41:00.000-06:00

We're headed off to visit family for the holidays. We're driving for the first time ever and I'm weirdly giddy about being stuck in the car for twelve hours with my husband and the kids. We've got movies, audio books, little toys, snacks, and a GPS so in theory we are all set. If all goes as planned we'll take off around mid-day and arrive safe and sound very late tonight.

I'm not sure why I haven't been posting lately--it's probably related to the reason we aren't doing Christmas cards this year. We're still trying to feel settled in our new hometown and living like squatters with me running off to the laundry, to take Cleo to school, and sneaking in as much reading as I can in between. We've also had a rough round of bronchitis hit the under five set at our house, so I've been administering yucky tasting Robitussin to children determined not to ingest such poison. Yes, I know that other families can balance their lives to perfection, with timely Christmas cards and all, but evidently I'm not one of them. Thus, the family photo above that is now a year old (but still so funny, don't you think?).

Anyway, should the blogging bug hit me in between enjoying my family, attempting to teach Cleo to ski, tyring to persuade Gigi that the potty is not the source of all evil, and playing Santa to my two cute girls I'll try to blog. Otherwise, I'll see you in January.

Self Portrait Challenge

2006-11-28T19:13:00.000-06:00

I thought I'd try the Self Portrait Challenge this month and see what happened. The theme is "Red," so I thought I'd find a photo that showed my red hair. So, here I am, sitting at the front door of our house in France.

Turkey Day

2006-11-24T11:47:00.000-06:00

We celebrated the day by going to ocean. I enjoyed the salt smell, the wind, and watching the waves crest and crash. It was the first Thanksgiving I've spent eating at a restaurant, an idea which at first I found rather shamefull, but when all was said and done, I was happy with the results. All the yummy food, a nice atmosphere, and a chance to reflect in front of the ocean.

Still, I missed the comforts of being with my family. Earlier this week my sister and I talked about how some holidays, especially Thanksgiving and Christmas, just aren't the same unless they are spent duplicating those we experienced growing up. I think I idealize those events. Because my family always lived far away from relatives, and because we were a rather private family, holidays were family days--intimate, exciting, days to anticipate year round. I'm a bit sad that I'll never be able to re-create them for my children and I wonder what memories my two girls will have. Will they recall our visit to the beach with as much happiness as I remember waiting for my mother's homemade rolls to come out of the oven? What traditions will I pass onto my children. Can I create a childhood of magical memories for them?

Shopping List

2006-11-18T20:37:00.000-06:00

After much debate my family has once again drawn names for the family gift exchange this Christmas. I was in charge this year of "drawing names" and only rigged it a little--this is standard practice in my family. So I'm making my shopping list, checking it twice and ready to go, if you have suggestions, please let me know.

Travis (brother-in-law)--small photo album of his family that he can take with him when he's out of town.

Trevor (nephew)--Lego Ferrari (very cool, I must say).

Jon (brother)-- looking for something he he wouldn't buy himself or won't because he's a poor college student.

Holly (sister-in-law married to Jon) -- maybe looking for something kitcheny--she likes to cook, but she's also an engineer, so I'm a bit befuddled.

Jeff (brother-in-law) --a new parent, so maybe something for he and his baby to enjoy together.

Mom and Dad --family portrait framed.

Cleo and Gigi -- Dollhouse (still have to choose one), Mr. Potato Head, Elmo goes Potty, Rollerskates?, matching game, Barbapapa things, Polly Pockets?, Purses?.....who knows what else.

Let me know if you have ideas.

Video Killed the Radio Star

2006-11-18T20:15:00.000-06:00

I was driving along yesterday afternoon after picking up my daughter from school and a song came along with explicit lyrics. Now, truthfully, this doesn't bother me, but more and more my children are really listening to what is I consider just background noise. So, as a dutiful mother (and to avoid some terrible incident at church or grandma's house) I flipped to another station and heard Bing Crosby singing his famous Christmas tune. Now, we have not yet hit Thanksgiving this year so I listened further to see if this was an isolated Christmas song, or if more were to follow. I listened for the entire drive home and low and behold, the station was playing All Christmas, All The Time! I guess I don't mind this so much, but was still surprised that even before the big turkey day this would happen.

Anyway, this brings me to the topic of Santa and Christmas. My children are naturally excited for Christmas, and since the concept of time is beyond them they don't really understand just how far away Christmas actually is. So, I've been telling them (repeatedly) that Christmas is the holiday after Thanksgiving. I'm afraid this may backfire on me, because my older daughter keeps telling me that after we have turkey then Santa will come!

Knowing that Santa is at the top of my daughter's mind, I thought I could use this to my favor, and a couple of days ago when she was not behaving as nicely as I knew she could, I mentioned that Santa might be watching so it would be a good idea for her to behave. Well, she looked at me slyly, almost with the glimmer of a teenager, and said, "Mom, Santa is just pretend." I calmly explained that Santa was indeed real and that Christmas is a magical time when anything can happen. Inside I was SHOCKED! My precious baby, my little four-year-old was saying and thinking things that I was thinking was assuming were years away. Now, in her defense, she may have said it just to defend her naughty behavior--she's a very smart manipulator and if she can excuse herself of any wrong doing she will find a way. But, I am determined that she believe, not necessarily in Santa, but in the magic of Christmas, and I want her to experience the same hope and joy that I did knowing that Christmas was coming. So my goal this year will to make her and her sister's Christmas magical--even if she doubts that Santa is real.

A Note to my Lurker and Other Readers

2006-11-15T21:49:00.000-06:00

Dear Hunters Hill, New South Wales,

Thanks for checking in on my blog. I hope you are enjoying it and that my refusal to use spell check doesn't drive you crazy. Please consider this an invitation to make your self known, either by commenting, or emailing me. But, if you prefer to remain silent, I understand--sometimes being a fly on the wall is more fun. Anyway, welcome.

Dear Loralee, Karen and Melanie,

Thanks for reading my blog despite my trivial topics, infrequent postings, and addiction to parenthesis. Thanks for putting up with endless rants about motherhood, married life, and my own personal mania. Please keep reading and commenting. Your comments--your notes make my day.

Amy

Trading Up

2006-11-15T20:40:00.000-06:00

We just got a new car. In the immortal words of the 80's, "It's sweeeet." Leather seats, dvd player, swiveling headlights, moon roof, loads of fun. So far it only has 358 miles on it, but I add a few more each day as I drive my daughter to and from pre-school. We briefly considered trading in the car we purchased when our now pre-schooler was born, but decided to keep it around for a bit longer.

In fact, I've noticed that trading-in and trading-up seem to be a pattern that is common, and not just with cars. A friend of mine finally got the wedding ring of her dreams after years of marriage, another is building their dream house, and while don't know anyone personally, certainly I've heard of people trading old spouses for newer models.

Which brings me to a recent conversation at my house.

"Mom, I want to trade you."

"You want to trade me?"

"Yea, I want to trade you for that one mom."

"You want to trade me for which mom?"

"I want to trade you for that mom with the three girls--you know, the youngest one with curls."

"You want to trade me for Mrs. Brady."

"YES! I want Mrs. Brady to be my mom!"

She continued to explain that I could be the mom to Mrs. Brady's kids and Mrs. Brady could be her mom. I was never able to get a good explanation out of her as to why she wanted Mrs. Brady to replace me, but my hunch is she's tired of my sneaking all the Oreo's when she's at school. I'm sure Mrs. Brady never did that. Alice did.

Blame it on the Oreo's

2006-11-09T00:34:00.000-06:00

With the exception of my father, I come from a family of trim, active people. And while it's embarrassing to admit it, I'm not only the shortest member of my family but at times the widest. My mother and sisters are very aware of their weight, and I know that each time I visit them my weight will inevitably be mentioned in some very casual way. If I'm on the thin side I'll be told, "Wow, you look really good." And if I'm not the worst I'll get is "Oh, you'll lose it honey." It's not that the comments are intended as hurtful, but I do feel a bit self-conscious that I'm being evaluated based on my width.

In my day to day life I don't actually really notice that I'm plumping up, it's usually not till I go home and attempt to borrow my mother's pants that and I can't fit them past my knees that I feel badly about myself. So I cut calories, eat smaller portions, and drink more water, and in a few months I usually/hopefully, get to a more pleasant weight. And when I'm thin I go through my closet and get out my skinny pants and feel all proud of myself. Then I discard the large sizes, sending them happily to the Salvation Army and relish in my once-again little body.

Then the cycle begins again. I get blue, I slip into eating large American portions, I start sneaking donuts, I begin feeling isolated, and one day the skinny pants feel a bit tight. I assume I'm just bloated and that in a few weeks I'll be better, and put the offending pants on the top of the shelf for use in couple of days when I'll supposedly be back to my usual self. So, I start wearing my transition clothes--drawstring skirts, yoga pants, elastic waistbands. And then one day either I'm behind on my laundry, or I think of the perfect outfit to go with the "thin" pants and I attempt to put them on. The results are disastrous, shattering my self-esteem, and making me want to run to the nearest container of Double Stuff Oreo's and eat the whole thing by myself. And since I've previously given all the larger sized pants away, I literally have nothing to wear. So I reluctantly shop for the larger size and get even more saddened by the fact that I've surpassed all previous large sizes.

Then a surprising turn of events. I'm shopping the tiny petite section of a discount store and run across a pair of pants with a handy tag on the hanger indicating that they are not only the right size but are actually petites, so they may actually be short enough (God Bless the Queen and my short stubby legs) and may just fit my girth. I don't bother to try them on--shopping with two kiddos is hard enough, but to go into a crammed dressing room and have my girls laughing about privates and trying to take their own clothes off to try things on is beyond my abilities at this moment. I take the pants home and try them on after the kiddos have gone to sleep. Since we don't have a full length mirror I stand on the toilet and then twist and turn, pleased with the results. I then go to bed with plans to wear my new big girl pants the next day.

The next morning arrives and I happily put on my new big-girl pants, carefully removing all tags. I wear them all day, happy with the way they stretch when I bend, pleased they don't feel too tight around my tummy zone--but don't point it out either.

Then the bad happens. In getting my jammies on I take the pants off and examine them to see if they can stand another wearing or if they need a washing. In doing so I notice something. The tag inside. It indicates a size completely different from the one shown on the hanger. I'm crushed. The size (and no, there's no way I'm listing it here) was BIG. I mean WAY BIG. Big to the point that my kids could each fit into a leg if necessary and walk around like conjoined twins.

So to cope with the situation I went to the kitchen and helped myself to another round of fat-inducing lard filled cookies, then went to bed in my drawstring jammies tied just a bit looser than usual.

My Shows

2006-11-08T23:33:00.000-06:00

My father, a civil engineer, is a gadgets kind of guy. The home I grew up in featured all sorts of as-seen-on-tv inventions like the Bacon Wave and an automatic shampoo dispenser in the shower. Our home was the first on the block to have a dust-buster, a massive reel-to-reel player, a VCR and BETA player and a home computer by 1980. We were the first to get cable, all 36 channels--including the controversial MTV. My parents didn't believe in regulating our television watching. If there was violence or killing, I guess they just figured we'd adjust.

There were only two shows forbidden to me--"V" was banned because the aliens ate rats and my mother couldn't stomach this, and the night "Blue Lagoon" aired for the first time on television my mother decided I was too young to watch it, but let my two sisters enjoy the scantily clad Brooke Shields. Of course, I watched it from the hallway till I got too tired and bored and went to bed. (As a side note, I rented it and the sequel in college--and act of defiance I suppose, and completely enjoyed them both--in part because I felt so brazen watching these once forbidden films.)

In fact, TV was a regular feature of my after school life. If my sister's were home the TV was tuned to All My Children. I remember thinking that Tad was cute and was sad when his newlywed Jenny was killed in a terrible snowmobiling accident. At five Star Trek came on, and at 5:30 the $10,000 Pyramid glued my eyes to the screen.

Thursdays were special nights, because my whole family watched Family Ties (with the oh so sexy Alex P. Keaton and very stylish Mallory) and then moved on to The Cosby Show.

As a total side note, 10 years after Family Ties went off the air I went to my in-laws for the first time as the new-girlfriend of my future husband. Among other things I noticed, I was secretly very pleased to see that their house featured the same Juice serving glasses that Alex had used on almost every show.

Anyway, my shows went off the air, they were replaced by others--A stint with Beverly Hills 90210, A fondness for Newhart, a total obsession with all things Brady Bunch.

My current faves are a bit embarrassing to mention, but I'll go ahead since the only three people who read this will forgive me of this petty pastime.

I dig America's Next Top Model. I can't stand Tyra Banks, but I like seeing all the different get-ups the competitors are forced to model.

Amazing Race makes me think about all the places I've been, and the places I have yet to visit. It also makes me think that my dear husband and I wouldn't fair very well in the competition, but if my sister Heidi and brother Jason were teamed up I'm positive they would win.

Desperate Housewives just makes me happy. I especially like various characters for different reasons. Lynette because, excluding her career ambitions), I see her struggle as a mother and think she's feisty in all the right ways. I like Bree because secretly I want to be as posed and put-together as she. It doesn't hurt that she's a red-head and I actually like the prim way she dresses.

Then there's Lost. Yea, I'm a sucker. Since it was one of the only shows I could download in France I got totally into, and of course the doctor is totally hot. But I'm finding myself less interested in the third season.

Arrested Development was awesome, while it lasted.

The Simpsons still make me laugh after all these years.

The Bachelor, and others like it, make me love to hate the participants.

I like to flip back and forth between shows like Sell This House, House Hunters, and that one that compares home prices across the country (always a downer by the way with a strong message--move to the middle of nowhere and have a mansion for only $200,000.00 dollars).

But, my television watching has hit a road bump. I've lost the special remote control the cable company provided instant access to almost 1000 channels, 100 of which actually offer decent programing on occasion. So for the past couple of days I've been changing channels twice a day.
In the morning I put on cartoons so the girls can yell at the tv "Go Diego, GO!" and then in the evening I put it on whatever network doesn't have news but some family friendly programs like America's Funniest home Videos followed by Simpsons and Frasier reruns. I don't sit down and watch regularly, but I like having the noise on in the background. It makes me feel like I'm home, and after the months of silence we had in France, I'm up for a little inane background chatter.

Lists

2006-11-06T23:38:00.000-06:00

This list is going around, so I thought I'd join in. However, feel no obligation to read further, it's just for my edification.

Have you:

03. Climbed a mountain
07. Taken a candlelit bath with someone
08. Said "I love you" and meant it
09. Hugged a tree
11. Visited Paris
12. Watched a lightning storm at sea - from the shore
13. Stayed up all night long and saw the sun rise
15. Gone to a huge sports game
16. Walked the stairs to the top of the leaning Tower of Pisa
17. Grown and eaten your own vegetables
19. Slept under the stars
20. Changed a baby's diaper(changed HUNDREDS, perhaps THOUSANDS of them!)
21. Taken a trip in a hot air balloon
22. Watched a meteor shower
24. Given more than you can afford to charity
25. Looked up at the night sky through a telescope
26. Had an uncontrollable giggling fit at the worst possible moment
27. Had a food fight
28. Bet on a winning horse
30. Had a snowball fight
31. Screamed as loudly as you possibly can
32. Held a lamb
33. Seen a total eclipse (of both the sun and the moon)
34. Ridden a roller coaster
35. Hit a home run
36. Danced like a fool and not cared who was looking
37. Adopted an accent for an entire day
38. Actually felt happy about your life, even for just a moment
41. Taken care of someone who was drunk
42. Had amazing friends
43. Danced with a stranger in a foreign country
45. Stolen a sign
47. Taken a road-trip
49. Midnight walk on the beach
53. In a restaurant, sat at a stranger's table and had a meal with them
54. Visited Japan
55. Milked a cow
56. Alphabetized your CDs
57. Pretended to be a superhero
59. Lounged around in bed all day
60. Played touch football
62. Kissed in the rain
63. Played in the mud
64. Played in the rain
65. Gone to a drive-in theater
66. Visited the Great Wall of China
67. Started a business
68. Fallen in love and not had your heart broken
69. Toured ancient sites
72. Gotten married
73. Been in a movie (Do home movies count???)
74. Crashed a party
77. Made cookies from scratch
79. Ridden a gondola in Venice
81. Rafted the Snake River
83. Got flowers for no reason
84. Performed on stage
85. Been to Las Vegas
86. Recorded music
87. Eaten shark
88. Kissed on the first date
90. Bought a house
95. Performed in Rocky Horror
96. Raised children
99. Taken an exotic bicycle tour in a foreign country
100. Picked up and moved to another city to just start over
102. Sang loudly in the car, and didn't stop when you knew someone was looking
105. Wrote articles for a large publication( well, not so large...)
110. Broken someone's heart
116. Fired a rifle, shotgun, or pistol
117. Eaten mushrooms that were gathered in the wild
118. Ridden a horse
119. Had major surgery
122. Slept for more than 30 hours over the course of 48 hours
123. Visited more foreign countries than U.S. states
127. Eaten sushi
128. Had your picture in the newspaper
131. Parasailed
132. Touched a cockroach
134. Read The Iliad
135. Selected one "important" author who you missed in school, and read
137. Skipped all your school reunions
138. Communicated with someone without sharing a common spoken language
141. Thought to yourself that you're living your dream
145. Had a booth at a street fair
149. Caused a car accident

To blog or not to blog

2006-11-06T23:22:00.000-06:00

I don't really have much to blog about right now--pretty much my life is full of trivial things like:

1. Do I open the package of Oreo's I bought to send to a friend in France or not? Can I resist the creamy smooth filling?

2. Is the dollhouse I've chosen for Santa to bring my girls extravagant? Will the little pieces drive me crazy? Will we be able to get it back from the grandparent's house in one piece?

3. Why on earth am I on such an expensive Ebay binge? I've won 12 auctions in the past month or two and am currently bidding on another 7-10 (at this rate it's hard to keep track of what packages are coming).

4. How on earth are we going to fix our house in Virginia while living here?

5. Should I avoid bringing peanut butter sandwiches to the get together at the park I've arranged with other new-to-the-area moms since one of the kids has a peanut allergy, or will it not be a problem?

6. What am I going to do if it rains? I offered to have all moms and their kids over to my tiny, undecorated apartment and it's really the last place I want to invite people I barely know. I prefer the neutral territory of the park.

7. Why is the weather here so freakishly warm? I need to wear my sweaters!

8. Am I going to finish making my collection of "Three Little Kittens" ornaments in time for Christmas?

9. Will my kids go to bed so I can watch Lost on Wednesday?

Trivial, petty, idiotic. These are the things that are going through my mind.

Theology

2006-10-30T12:27:00.000-06:00

I belong to a church that believes in personal Revelation. I suppose this means I can attribute my intense burning desire to fill up my car with gas before the NY blackout a few years back to friendly heavenly intervention, enabling me to pick up my husband from a business trip when the trains weren't running. I've had other such experiences, some seemingly trivial, others life altering. Now, it seems my dear daughter number one is learning some interesting things about divinity at church. Things that I have to bite my tongue to keep from both peeing my pants laughing and do the proper parental discipline. Things like this.

"Mom, Jesus told me to get the play dough out and rub it on my foot in the carpet."

or this,

"Dad, Heavenly Father really, really wants you to read me another book."

"Mom, I don't have to eat my dinner, Jesus wants me to be happy and dinner doesn't make me happy."

Ahh, to have the fresh perspective of a four year old again. It makes me giggle.

Poop Happens

2006-10-26T22:45:00.000-05:00

Tonight, while getting ready to put the girls in the bath for their nightly swim, I noticed the tub was not as sparkly white as I thought it should be (read green scum ringing the water line). So, being a thoughtful mother, I held of bath time while I scrubbed the tub top to bottom. Smiling at a job well done, I then ran the bathwater for my girlies. They got in, I washed their little heads and bodies in record time and left them to lay out their jammies. Midway through my jammie search I heard a scream--a familiar scream--the poop scream. I ran to the bathroom to find Gigi, legs surrounded by brown floaties, standing up screaming, "Mom! I Pooped!" So I grabbed both girls. Wrapped them up in fresh white towels and re-scrubbed the tub, the plethora of bath toys, and once again, the tub is sparkly white.

Benefits of Blogging

2006-10-16T13:35:00.000-05:00

Today I received this in my inbox:

Dear Consumer,

Congratulations! You are been chosen to receive the vacuum of your dreams. Whatever its color or cost, with this gift certificate blessing expressed in this message combined with a Citi MasterCard you may now purchase the vacuum that will complete you, body and soul.

Happy shopping,

The Fairy Godmother of Housekeeping

Now maybe I can get the hovercraft vacuum that's new from Scotland! It's a canister vacuum that actually floats behind you as you vacuum cheerios and hair elastics. As stated on theairider.com:

The Airider has arrived: a floating vacuum cleaner that will make cleaning an easy ride.

Using hovercraft technology to float on the floor, the Airider becomes virtually weightless during operation.

I can't help but assume I'd be welcome to wear my Princess Leah costume while operating the hovercraft.

Mojo

2006-10-12T18:55:00.000-05:00

I have bad vacuum mojo.

It's true. In all my adult years I've never had a great vacuum.

My first vacuum was a hand-me-down from a friend whose parents ran a hotel. It was an outcast upright on the way to the the salvation army she grabbed for me to help me furnish my apartment. It was avocado green, of course, and left black streaks on the pink/blue/green/brown/calico carpet of my basement apartment. It sucked well enough, but if you ran it too long the belt overheated and rubbed rubber stains onto the carpet.

When I got married my husband and I purchased with money given to our wedding registry, a nice hoover canister vacuum. It was small, lightweight, and good at sucking up dirt out of the crevices of our car, but inconvenient for taking up and down our flight of stairs to get rid of the cat hair that populated our apartment.

My next vacuum was purchased when we bought our first house in NY. It was a special blue bagless number with a pricey filter. While it sucked well enough, it was a bit heavy, and I couldn't stand to see the filter full the dirt and allergens it was supposed to keep from recirculating into the air, so each month I'd heft out another fifty bucks and throw the offending filter away. It was an endless cycle, and I discovered I was throwing so much money away on filters that I might as well be buying new vacuums every 3 months.

Then came the Dyson.

I didn't actually ever own a Dyson, but was taken with the "filter-free" talk on the commercials and jumped at the opportunity to borrow one from a friend when my previous vacuum hit the dust.

The Dyson seemed great, if a bit cumbersome, and I happily lugged the sucker up and down three flights of stairs for the two weeks I borrowed it. I planned to buy one as soon as we moved stateside. Sadly, I saw a morning news show that compared the Dyson to both bagless and regular vacuums of various varieties and was shocked to see that it didn't get nearly as many muffin crumbs off the ground as its competitors. there went my dreams of the perfect vacuum.

Since moving to California I've purchased the Hoover Windtunnel™ Deluxe Canister Vacuum. It was cheap, seemed like it would do the job and was not as heavy as the alternatives. But, naturally I have the buyers remorse. It's heavy, grunts like a pig when it rounds corners, and I don't like having to cram the various parts--especially the long cord, into my coat closet. It also leaves black marks on the walls and trim each time I push it to close in an attempt to get the very edge of the carpet.

I've been telling myself that I'll buy a new vacuum when we buy a house, but I'm not sure I can wait that long. I mean, I vacuum nearly every day and each time I see my current vacuum I get really irritated. So, if you've got a great vacuum you can recommend let me know. Till then I'll be cursing the scuff marks.

We need a boy.

2006-10-10T19:54:00.000-05:00

Cleo has decided our family needs a boy. She's not satisfied that her father is a boy, she wants a kid boy. The following is our conversation from last night:

Cleo: Our family needs a boy.

Me: But Daddy is a boy.

Cleo: Daddy's not a boy he's a worker. We need a boy.

Me: Where should we get a boy?

Cleo: Halle. (Halle is her 2 year old cousin.)

Me: But Halle is a girl.

Cleo: No, I mean Halle's boy.

Me: Do you mean Halle's brother Trevor?

Cleo: Yea, Halle's brother Trevor can be our boy.

Me: But Trevor already has a family.

Cleo: Well, we can just call him and ask him if we wants to be in our family and when we go to Gramsy's house we can get him.

Me: Where will he sleep?

Cleo: In my princess bed.

Me: What if he doesn't fit?

Cleo: Then he can sleep under my bed and be a monster!

JL and I just cracked up over this whole conversation.

When it Rains...

2006-10-10T19:39:00.000-05:00

I've been sick, sick, sick, sickety-sick with a sinus infection and now debilitating allergies. I've been curled up in bed for days, but made it out today to take Cleo to the dentist where the bad news piled up. Not only does she have a dead tooth, but she needs a root canal and she has a cavity between two of her molars on the top. The dentist made the mistake of saying that Cleo would be getting a "crown" and now Cleo is obsessed with the idea. Try persuading a princess-obsessed four year old that a crown is just fancy talk for a special tooth cover and you'll know what I mean. I've been dealing with questions all afternoon like "Will my crown be pink? Will it have jewels? Can I take it to school? Why does my mouth need a crown?" It's been a challenging afternoon, and between blowing my nose I've attemted to do damage control. Luckily, both kids took a long, two-hour nap, and I was able to heft my five loads of laundry to the laundry room. Unluckily upon waking up Cleo has been rubbing her left ear and saying it hurts. So I'm trying to make an appointment to take her to the doctor tomorrow morning to find out if she has an ear infection so I'll know if I need to cancel her root-canal appointment. Urgg...

Sick as a Dog

2006-10-08T19:50:00.000-05:00

I'm sick, sick, sick, sickety-sick. I can't breath, have a terrible sinus infection, my jaw and head ache, and I'm forcing my kids to watch Austin Powers on TV so I can blow my nose in relative peace. The downside is Cleo asking, "Mom, what's mojo?"

Baby Socks

2006-10-02T18:10:00.000-05:00

A secret I've not told anyone:

I keep a pair of tiny baby socks that were purchased years before I ever became a mother in my dresser so that when I happen on them I remember how badly I wanted to be a mother before it was a reality. This helps me on the days when I find mothering challenging, diapers tedious, and forget that a life without time-outs exists. It reminds me that I chose to be a mother and reminds me to enjoy the funny and joyous moments that could otherwise cause stress.

Secrets

2006-10-02T13:46:00.000-05:00

I'm taken with the Post Secret Website. The concept is this: people mail in their deepest, darkest, and sometime brightest secrets written on a concept post-card (usually handmade) and once a week a new batch is posted online. (Warning, they are not for the faint of heart--some are crass, others lewd, and others are just plain heartbreaking.) The secrets are startling but so human. They make me think about my own secrets--those things I never mention. No, I'm not going to reveal them here, but I've toyed with the idea of sending in my own post-cards. Here are some of this weeks post cards.

Here's how to contribute your own secret (as copied from the Post Secret Blog).

You are invited to anonymously contribute your secrets to PostSecret. Each secret can be a regret, hope, funny experience, unseen kindness, fantasy, belief, fear, betrayal, erotic desire, feeling, confession, or childhood humiliation. Reveal anything - as long as it is true and you have never shared it with anyone before.

Create your 4-by-6-inch postcards out of any mailable material. If you want to share two or more secrets, use multiple postcards. Put your complete secret and image on one side of the postcard.

Tips:
Be brief - the fewer words used the better.
Be legible - use big, clear and bold lettering.
Be creative - let the postcard be your canvas.

Mail your secrets, or other correspondence, to:

PostSecret
13345 Copper Ridge Road
Germantown, Maryland
USA 20874-3454

Please consider sharing a follow-up story about how mailing in a secret, or reading someone else's, made a difference in your life.
(I apologize in advance for being unable to reply.)

10 Things--Copycat

2006-10-01T00:55:00.000-05:00

Thanks to Karen, I'm going to make my own 10 things lists.

10 Things I did this week:

Washed 7 loads of laundry
Ate tons of Jicama, my new favorite snack
Read "Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus," 12 times
Wished my youngest brother a happy birthday without actually knowing how old he's turning
Donated money to a scholarship fund
Watched "Grey's Anatomy"
Finished Cleo's school paperwork
Googled unsuccessfully an old friend
Found perfect baskets for my kid's Halloween costumes
Attended my first ever Back To School Night

10 Things I wanted to do this week but didn't:

Put together Gigi's bed
Cook a real meal
Finish my book
Organize my closet
Write a thank-you note to one of Cleo's teachers
Invite a potential friend to lunch (I'm afraid to overwhelm her with my kids)
Dust
Start my grandmother clock
Start my submission for the family newsletter
Purge my Christmas decorations

10 things that made me smile:

Cleo telling me the kids at school would laugh at her Capri's
My children trying on my cardigans and dancing around
Talking with my sister about stupid stuff
Gigi not even blinking when she got her immunization shots
My dh admitting his pants are floods
Remembering Loralee's hoof shaped scar
Cleo praying that she can marry her best friend from a year ago
My kids asking if we can have a dog/fish/cat/horse/monkey
Telling them yes, but we have to talk their daddy into it
Sneaking a maple bar donut to eat by myself

I love the 80's

2006-09-29T19:57:00.000-05:00

All day long VH1 has been playing "I Love the 80's Strikes Back." I'm totally addicted. The flashbacks to my youth along with the witty commentary is completely cracking me up. I'm currently on 1984, and VH1 is highlighting the movie "Revenge of the Nerds."

For some reason, this movie was a staple of my childhood, and my sisters and I watched it dozens, no, hundreds of times. We can recite most of the movie by heart and never fail to find another thing to laugh at when we watch it.

"I've got the old speedometer set at 35," to "You've got that special something I know they're looking for. Tell them Betty sent you." I'm reliving scenes in my mind as I type.

It's been years since I've seen it, and I probably wouldn't find it as entertaining as I did then, but I would love to step back in time and argue with my sisters over who got what section of the couch (I got last choice as the youngest) and watch it again in my parents basement.

What's this house worth...

2006-09-28T21:15:00.000-05:00

Take a close look at this picture. This house had three bedrooms, and two baths, and is 1300 square feet.

Impressed with the luscious yard? The timeless lattice columns gracing the massive porch. Or is it the fact that this "Americana" style retreat backs to the largest freeway in the area that makes you love it? Oh, and did I mention that the local schools have class sizes of 35+, and are rated on a scale of 1-10 (with 10 being the best) at a mere 4?

Well, count your pennies ladies, this house lists at $998,000.00. That's right reader. A mere $2000 less than a million dollars makes this beauty a steal in our current neighborhood.

Now, for fun, lets look a similar homes in other areas around the world.

Take this similarly sized home found in the inter-mountain west. This house has 100 more square feet, a two car garage, AC, and is located in the second best school district in the state. It's price? $125,000.00

And this is what you can buy in a small mountain town for the same price as the first house.

Oh, wait. There aren't any house listed that high. Well, here's as close as I could find.

This manse has 6 bedrooms, 8 baths and is a whopping 10,000 square feet.

Sure, it has the attractive brick finish, a view of the mountains, walk-in closets bigger than most bedrooms, and is located on a cul-de-sac on a lot over an acre in size. But who needs all that hoopla when you can have lattice?

Songs for Whoever

2006-09-15T11:25:00.000-05:00

Thanks to my friend Loralee (http://loraleeslooneytunes.blogspot.com), I've been thinking about songs that personify people. Naturally I think of the song's my family assigns someone at birth, or at a young age.

My sister Shelly is the song "Shelly's Got a Brand New Dress." Given to her when she was just a baby, it may have directed her life more than she knows it. Shelly is an exceptional shopper, and has excellent taste. I've never seen her in something I didn't like (and think looked great on her).

Then there is my sister Heidi. While officially her family song is "You Are My Sunshine," I actually like to think of her song as being "Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head." When we were primary age, she and I participated in a huge region primary program where she soloed this song while swinging one my my favorite rainbow colored umbrellas around the stage (remember, we lived in rainy Oregon, so having multiple umbrellas was the standard.)

For my brother Jason, no song fits better than "Davy Crockett." It's a fun song, manly, makes you think of a hero, someone you can rely on in the rough west, and he sang it in a different primary program dressed as a rough-riding cowboy.

Jonathon's songs are a bit of a mix. The first, "I've been waiting for you all of my life," was popular at the time of his birth in the early 1980's, and as he was the last of five kids seemed appropriate for my mother to sing to him. Second, is a song just called "Jonathan." It's about a kid who needs a little motivation in his life--and since my brother has always been known to find the easiest way to do something this song was fitting and we tormented him with it since we discovered it when he was about seven.

For my dear daughter Cleo I think of the song Thumbelina. I've sung this song to her hundreds of times. It embodies her sweetness and size.

For Gigi, I think of the song "Vie est Belle." We sing this little french song from the movie South Pacific for many reasons. For one, Gigi moved almost straight to France with our family after being adopted. Two, I've always loved the movie South Pacific, and couldn't give the song "Wash that man right out of my hair," to a child of mine. Three, I learned the song in my middle school French class and have loved it ever since.

My dh remains without a song, though I suppose I could jokingly give him the song "Mr. Roboto," for his regimental ways and scheduling habits. He'd probably prefer a U2 or REM or Sting song, but for now "Mr. Roboto," will have to do.

16,000 Years of Burritos

2006-09-14T16:00:00.000-05:00

So, do you remember that scene in the Austin Powers movie where Dr. Evil ransoms the earth for a whopping $1 million dollars? The reaction on the faces of the army guys is priceless. You can tell they're thinking "What an idiot!" They know, and just like you and I know, that a million dollars just doesn't take you very far. Sure you could pay off your debt, buy a reasonably nice but not extravagant house, maybe a new car or two and that's it.

Here's another remember when thought. When playing The Game of Life, I always wanted to land on the "Congratulations, you're a doctor. Your annual salary is $50,000." Hitting this key spot on the board pretty much ensured that you would end up on millionaire's row, especially if your opponent/sibling landed on the "Congratulations, you're a teacher. Your annual salary is $24,000." Then I knew there would be no competition, and the game was already won. Life was good.

Lets jump ahead 20 years to today. It was lunch time and my family and I were eating at Chipotle, a favorite of ours. I was having carnitas burritos, and JL was digging into a burrito bol. Naturally the kiddos were splitting a quesadilla, and in actuality were eating more chips than actual food. We're having an average lunch costing about $20 for the four of us. Suddenly JL gets a grin on his face and gives me the classic line, "Don't look, but....

Well, it wasn't a movie star, but the CEO of Google, Eric Schmidt, sitting at the table directly behind us with his wife.

Now, being in the know, JL let me know that the accumulated wealth of said person was hovering at around 4 billion dollars. Not 4 million, we're talking B-I-L-L-I-O-N baby.

So I slyly stood up and sashayed past them to refill my Diet Coke so I could get a look.
I made note that neither of them looked anything out of the ordinary. Just a man in a dress shirt having a quick lunch. What separated them and us on the outside was merely a couple of decades, but if you looked in our wallets then wowee, the differences really add up.

JL and I joked that we could comfortably afford to eat at Chipolte a couple of times a week for the rest of our lives but the next table could eat there every meal for the next 16,000 years and still not run out of money. Now that's a lot of burritos baby.

School Days

2006-09-13T13:10:00.000-05:00

Two-and-a-half hours of free to be me and Gigi time three times a week! Does life get any better?
Cleo started preschool this week at what I've heard is our area's premier pre-school. Registration for this school year started over a year ago and entailed waiting in line for three days, luring hopeful moms away with Diet Coke, and quick conversion to the Methodist Church for first dibs on registration.

So how did I persuade this elite school to let Cleo in a week after school started?

I showed up in their offices with perfectly matching-outfitted children.
I pitifully explained how we'd just moved to the area from out of the country.
I even spoke French to the multi-lingual staff.
And I offered to take any open space available.

So, two hours later I was called and told a space had been found! WAHOO!

So today is day two of Cleo's preschool experience, and as I type she's begging me to find her backpack so she can go to school. She even wants to skip lunch so we can go straight there.

This all makes me very, very happy. And when Mom's happy, everyone is happy!

Vikings

2006-09-06T11:46:00.000-05:00

My apartment has been pillaged by Vikings disguised as professional movers. Not only did we underestimate the amount of stuff we were having shipped from France, we over estimated the capacity of our 2nd floor apartment and I fear it will collapse from the weight of our accumulation of belongings. If there is an earthquake (one of my fears about living in California) we're all dead, as we can't even make it to the doors to stand in the safest place in the house. Last night DH and I spent over an hour just trying to clear a path to Gigi's bed, only to discover we'd blocked ourselves into a tiny corner of her room, with the kids running loose, climbing towers of boxes in the rest of the house. Chaos ensued.

My solution to this problem is to move again. We already ditched half of our stuff in Virginia, if we move again, and stay on the run, maybe these boxes will never catch up to us, and I'll never have to unpack?

If you have better solutions let me know. Till then I'll be weeping, looking despondently at our formerly empty and seemingly spacious apartment.

MISSING Movers

2006-09-05T10:24:00.000-05:00

Oh, movers where are you? Where are you today?
I've cleaned up my house and I've put toys away.
I'm waiting for boxes, too many to say.
Oh, movers where are you? Where are you today?

How to Kill a Cockroach in 11 Easy Steps

2006-09-04T19:58:00.000-05:00

Should you find yourself at 11:30 pm reading in the bathroom of your new apartment in California because your home has no ceiling lights and your furniture has yet to arrive, and you are rudely interrupted by the sound of a cockroach falling from beneath the sink to the floor here are some very clear instructions on how to kill your intruder.

Look up from book and scream.
Scream again. Realize husband is asleep and you must face this alone.
Grab giant wad of toilet paper.
Attempt to squish cockroach.
Scream yet again as cockroach propels self 8 inches into the air toward you.
Regain composure and rethink plan.
Cover cockroach with Lysol Disinfectant Cleaning Wipe.
Quickly, very quickly grab bottle of children's shampoo and pound on wipe till crunching sound confirms the demise of the cockroach.
Grimace and gather remains.
Run to kitchen and dispose of the body in garbage bag hanging from kitchen hardware.
Confirm plans to never walk barefoot without checking floor.

Absence makes the heart...

2006-08-06T21:52:00.000-05:00

I've just returned from the airport where I left my dear husband after a record-breaking awful weekend. I'm feeling sad, sorry, and angry myself. As I drove the familiar route home with the sunset blinding me in the rear view mirror, I thought of a million things to thank my spouse for, things I was thinking when he asked me "What are you thinking about?" and I said nothing--not knowing how to explain the chaos in my mind. So here goes.

Thank you for driving 18 hours in a 48 hour period so you could spend time with the girls and me.

Thank you for sitting with our wriggling tw0-year old through a two-and-a-half hour play while I enjoyed it with a child free lap.

Thank you for dressing up as a gambler for the silly photos we took in Jackson. It really meant a lot to me that you were willing to participate in re-creating a photo from my childhood.

Thank you for NOT listening to public radio while driving to the airport. Sometimes silence is best.

Thank you for taking our girls and their cousin swimming while I buried myself in a tomb of towels. I just couldn't face you or their high pitched squeals while they played shark in the kiddy pool.

Thank you for sleeping in a tent with my brother while I enjoyed the warmth and comfort of the RV.

Thank you for detouring to Little America. The 50 cent ice-cream cones and the quiet of the drive helped me calm down after our numerous quarrels.

Thank you for not dying while driving to meet us, and forgive me for being so hard on you for not calling to let me know you were okay.

Thank you for putting up with my outbreak of tears this morning. I'm feeling overwhelmed by our move to California. Somehow it's just as hard to move to close to home as it is to be far away.

Be safe. Be good. Let's start over next weekend when you come to visit for the weekend.

European Vacation

2006-07-06T03:40:00.000-05:00

10 countries in 14 days
nabbed a pickpocket in Rome
yelped with a yodeler
found "naughty spots" for naughty daughters in all 10 countries
dipped toes in the Mediterranean Sea
up, around, and under the Alps
saw chocolate-milk cows in Switzerland
more castles than anyone deserves to see in a lifetime
an actual chastity belt (yuck!)
ash covered ruins in Pompeii
gondoliers in Venice
steam shipped across Lake Lucerne
gained 9 pounds
added to my charm collection

A wonderful trip was had by all, to tired and too much laundry to offer details.
Will only intermittently blog till I move in a few weeks and life (hopefully) settles down.

367 Days

2006-06-09T05:48:00.000-05:00

A year and two days ago I met my daughter for the first time. It wasn't in a hospital, there was no umbilical cord to cut, or doctor smiling at me announcing that it was a girl.

Instead I was on the 5th floor of an office building in southern China surrounded by a slew of youthful orphanage workers who were openly crying about handing over their tiny little charges. Then there was the row of babies. Identically dressed in hot pink tank tops, black knit shorts and pink jellie-sandals, all looking scared, able to sense that something big was about to happen.

More quickly than I had imagined I was holding a little girl that looked about 9 months old, with short wiry ponytails and and red pocks splattered across her face. She screamed as she was passed from nanny to me and I cried, cooed and rocked her trying to calm her while facing my own fears of being responsible for this complete stranger. She reached back to the nanny, over and over, and the nanny reached for her, making me feel useless, like a bad mother only minutes into our relationship. I my mind I prayed for her to stop crying so I would look like someone capable of parenting her.

She was so, so thin, and cried all the way into the elevator, through the lobby of the building where her nanny was peering longingly at her, and onto the waiting bus. She cried all the way to our hotel, and up to our hotel room. She cried till suddenly, about 5 hours later she collapsed, asleep on my chest. An hour later she woke up and cried some more. We were able to get her to eat some dinner, amidst her crying, and put her to bed. She willingly went to sleep, but woke crying the next day, and cried all day long, and all through the following 3 days and nights.
Nothing we did calmed her. Nothing.

Finally we spoke to our adoption guide, a very likable man name Michael. He was very concerned that our baby wasn't adjusting well. He called her orphanage and relayed our million questions and added some of his own. We learned the position she likes to sleep in, the temperature she liked her food, and as an afterthought they mentioned that she likes towels.

JL RAN to the bathroom and grabbed a small hand towel bearing the logo of our hotel. Our daughter grasped onto it in the most aggressive move I'd seen her make and proceeded to smother herself with the towel. She rubbed the terrycloth across her cheeks, eyes, nose and mouth. Fingered the material looking for reassurance, and finally, stopped crying. I was so relieved that I almost burst into tears. It was a light at the end of the tunnel situation. Perhaps, just perhaps she would stop crying long enough for us to get to know her, to love her, to show her that we meant no harm.

Over the next few days, with the towel constantly by her side we learned that she loved to eat and that she was terrified of men, especially her new dad. She didn't resist the presence of her sister, and we latched onto this and let the two interact as much as possible, with the big sister bringing toys, encouraging her to pick things up, feed herself, and finally to crawl. She was 14 months old.

We toured China with our children in tow, and stole hand towels from every hotel we stayed in, telling ourselves that if they knew the situation they wouldn't begrudge us a measly towel.

Over the past year, Rong Fu Yan has evolved into Gigi--a laughing, dancing, dress loving little girl who adores her mother and her father and tells us cutely, "Don't be sad."

She loves Cinderella aka "Rella," strawberries, Elmo, and cries out "APPLE JUICE!" when she's sad.

Never Smile

2006-06-06T05:38:00.000-05:00

Among my recent reads are the following books about France and French Culture--I love how they try to explain the French way of life, and can sooo totally relate to some, but not all, of the scenarios.

For an intro to the French I suggest the following:

These books eased my anxiety about moving to France, and gave me something to reference when I was trying to figure out what I was doing wrong here.

Here are some clever tips I picked up:

Never smile here. It makes you look stupid. Even little kids don't smile.

Everyone is considered a stranger, and strangers don't deserve eye contact.

No matter how hard I try, I will never, ever in a million years be mistaken for a local--I just don't have the attitude, style and sneer.

Assume everyone around you speaks English even though they won't speak it to you.

Children are to be very, very well behaved and are expected to sit through 2-4 hour long dinners and meals out.

My coolness factor is increased 25% just by having lived here.
It's true...there have been studies done.

The French don't hate Americans. They just can't stand our president and what they perceive as our arrogance.

Weird, but Americans hate the French but love France. It's the most visited country in the world.

The French really are thinner than Americans, but it's because they don't snack EVER.

5580 miles (8981 km) (4849 nautical miles)

2006-06-06T04:43:00.000-05:00

This is the distance between Paris, France and CA, USA; our current and future homes.

The movers are coming on July 17th and 18th and we fly out on the 19th--talk about cutting it close. If there is any kind of delay with the movers we're in big trouble.

Granmsy and Gramps's house is actually our first destination, where we'll recuperate and then leave the kiddos for the first time ever and fly to California to apartment hunt. We're hoping we can find a nice 2/3 bedroom apartment where we'll feel comfortable while we house hunt and/or decide if we really want to buy in the pricey market that is the entire state of California. We're considering harvesting our spare organs to acquire the necessary funds. I've already volunteered JL's eyebrows, as he has plenty to spare and who wouldn't want a well-read kidney like mine? If this doesn't work, we can always move back to where we grew up, where houses are affordable and family is plentiful.

Ticked

2006-06-05T11:58:00.000-05:00

I've officially turned into my mother, only sadly, very sadly, I wear two sizes larger than she does and she's 5 inches taller than me.

Today, just minutes ago, I actually told my children who were dangerously playing with a stick,

You'll Poke Your Eye Out!

I don't really know what to make of this new development.

Also, yesterday I found a tick on my dear two-year-old. She was very good about letting me remove it, after her dad attempted for about five minutes and couldn't go through with it for fear of hurting her. I'm hoping Lyme disease is not in our near future. So far so good, with no rash or fever.

Lastly, my husband is in Germany, for the second to last business trip he'll take while living here. He'll be gone for three days, and I'm looking forward to a life where he'll be home more than 1/2 the time.

Tuna will Kill You

2006-06-04T08:06:00.000-05:00

My dear four-year old just spent over TWO HOURS eating a less than 1/2 of a tuna fish sandwich.

Her comment, "It tastes like chicken."

Lucky for me, my dear two-year old eats anything and everything, including but not limited to sushi, caviar, Spanish olives, spinach, foi gras, and stinky French cheese.

A is for Aligator

2006-05-31T10:24:00.000-05:00

My children and I do this several times a week:

It's hilarious to watch a two and a four-year-old say OHHHMMMMMM while stretching into various positions. They really enjoy doing it and ask to do it several times a week. I like doing it with them because it involves almost no sweating (which I hate) and I feel nice and stretched out afterwords. Thanks Shelly for this most unique gift.

The Loire Valley

2006-05-30T15:07:00.000-05:00

This weekend brought two visitors to our home. My brother-in-law and his wife. I was particularly excited to see them for two reasons. One, I've spent very little time with my new sister-in-law since her marriage into the family and was looking forward to getting to know her better; and two, with them we went to the Loire Valley and went castle hopping. We had an amazing time (despite the challenges of taking a two and a four year old). My favorite site was the chateau Chanonceaux.

It's a graceful, feminine even, castle that spans across a river. It's full of larger than average rooms for the time-period, wonderful tapestries, and a ball room that sits right on top of the river, as seen here:

It is surrounded by carefully manicured gardens, and even has a hedge maze that my four year old managed to hide in while we fretfully looked for her and called her name. Luckily, very luckily she was quickly found, but not before thoroughly scaring me and her father.

Inside each room was an amazing fresh floral display the likes of which I've never seen before. In a word--Spectacular. Here are two of my favorites--keep in mind that they were both over 3 feet tall so the pictures don't do them justice.

All in all, we had a lovely day, and would highly suggest this as a destination if castles are your thing.

So, Internet....What are you summer plans? Are you, like me, going to be inundated with family? Or will you be traveling somewhere new, or somewhere familiar? I'm truly interested, so do tell.

Reading Rut

2006-05-28T10:10:00.000-05:00

I'm in a rut. A reading rut. I've recently attempted to read three books and can't make my way through any of them.

My first attempt was:

I thought it was one of those books that everyone read at one point, and I might as well too. The problem is that I'm not a horse person. I was one of the few girls I knew who had ready access to horses but had to be forced--absolutely forced, to ride. Horses are pretty to look at, I like the idea of horse culture, etc., but really, they are just not my thing. So, by page two I knew deep inside that the book was going to be very, very boring to me, as I absolutely could not relate the the protagonist. So, I read another 15 pages and gave up.

A few days later I turned to this book:

I thought I was digging into a great biography Hellen Keller. What I got instead was a religious tract on Swedenborgian religious views about the New Church. I mean, really people, Hellen's tutor Anne Sullivan was only listed 3 times in the index, and it didn't even talk about her childhood at all! I read about 1/3 of the book and couldn't take anymore. Next time I'll make sure what I'm buying really is a biography.

I thought that my third attempt at a great book was a sure thing. It was this book:

Since it was written by the author of the No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency series, a truly delightful series, I hoped for and expected the best. I was mistaken. Despite having interesting characters and a great setting, the book didn't have a plot. The Professor simply went from one mini-event to another, culminating in his appointment and removal as the mock-president of a small South American country. I read the whole thing, and kept hoping for more. But it wasn't a winner, and now I'm the loser with nothing to read, limited resources and two months left living with out English language books.

Woe is me.

Please, for the love of literature everywhere, give me a book recommendation (and don't you dare sneak in anything obvious like a New York Times Bestseller, or worse a Nicholas Sparks novel.)

Me Going to Church

2006-05-25T11:42:00.000-05:00

My dear four-year-old just finished this portrait of me. She kept checking on my various body parts so she could draw the right numbers of fingers and toes (evidently I have more than the average), and she was very careful to select the right color of shirt, comparing various purple markers to get just the shade she was looking for. I love my green mouth and carefully drawn eyebrows. Man, I feel so loved right now. It's like little bubbles of love floating all around me and all I have to do is reach out and pop one or two for a bit of instant happiness.

P.S. I had such fun color coordinating the color of word (like ear) to the color she drew it in.

Read this Book

2006-05-24T11:09:00.000-05:00

If you're looking for a great anytime read, get "The Time Traveler's Wife." I laughed, I cried, I turned pages all through the night waiting to see what would happen. Sure, it's a love story of sorts, but really, it's just amazing. This is one of those books you just don't want to ever end, but you keep turning page after page because you desperately want to know what's going to happen. Put this book at the top of your list, and if you're too cheap to buy it, I'll buy it for you. A well earned rating of A.

What's in Your Closet?

2006-05-24T10:53:00.000-05:00

I'm busily going through boxes, cupboards, and drawers trying to de-junk before our move. I've been a bit shocked at what I've found, and what I thought I couldn't live without before leaving the States. In my bathroom cupboard I found no fewer than:

16 tubes of Aquafresh Sensitive Toothpaste,
3 dozen new toothbrushes,
6 large bottles of lotion,
4 unopened bottles of teething medicine,
4 packages of hair elastics,
and a set of curlers I haven't used in seven years.

What's wrong with me? Did I think I'd spend all day brushing my teeth and medicating my children (only one of whom is still expecting any new teeth)? Likewise, I hate curlers, but somehow saw fit to ID them as a must have in France. I'm just such a dork. I've also got 9 new packages of nylons, and over 20 unused chapsticks. You know, just the normal can't live without them kind of stuff. I also haven't touched the 2 packages of chocolate chips, and the various board games we thought would be entertaining. Geesh. Don't ever trust me again.
But then again, I've already purchased

8 boule sets (a game) to give as gifts when we return,
9 boxes of Banania,
4 packages of this really amazing sauce for steak,
and oodles of children's books in french that I can't even read but think are cool.

Never let me pack for you.

The good news is that I've filled about five giant garbage backs with unloved toys, stained baby clothes, expired soup I bought 3 states ago, a skirt I love but KNOW I will never be thin enough to fit again, and other sundry items that I'm happy to say goodbye too. It feels good to thin out our belongings a bit.

So, what do you hoard? What's the weirdest thing in your closet or the most bizarre thing you've ever happily sent on it's way?

State Capitals

2006-05-23T10:36:00.000-05:00

I'm in the list making mode, I thought I'd make a list of all the states I've lived in. Then I thought, why not list the capitals instead and see if my reader (hey Loralee) can guess the states.

Here in order by yours truly.

Phoenix
Sacramento
Salem
Cheyenne
Salt Lake City
Trenton
Albany
Richmond

The answers are in the comments.

Bonus points if you can name the three countries I've lived in.

A Charmed Life

2006-05-21T17:43:00.000-05:00

Speaking of charms, I just finished reading "A Charmed Life," by Diana Wynne Jones.

It's a witchy little juvenile/young adult book I read in a day or two and enjoyed enough that I'll probably seek out book number two in the series. My only struggle with the book was that I really, really didn't like the main character, but then I realized I was putting my reading emphasis on the wrong person, and the story came across much better. It's worth a quick read if you're wandering the shelves looking for something easy. I give it a B.

My Mother's Charms

2006-05-21T12:14:00.000-05:00

My mother has a beautiful gold charm bracelet. It jingles when she walks and was a good warning system to stop misbehaving when the familiar clink of gold tapping against gold was heard. It was also good for hours of entertainment during dull church meetings. I'd go over each charm piece by piece, moving the arms of the windmill charm she got in Holland, opening the stein from Germany, changing the time on the tingly little Cuckoo Clock from Switzerland. My favorite was an abacus she purchased in Hong Kong. It's many little beads, and the idea that it was an ancient calculator fascinated me.
In the past few years, I've finally started creating my own charm bracelet. So far I have tiny castanets from Spain, a movable Pinocchio figure from Italy (sorry, can't turn the picture),

This fierce Dragon from Hong Kong.

And this crown from England.

I'm also getting charms for my girls, and plan to give them to them when they are older, and can appreciate them (and won't lose them!) So, what do you collect? What drives you to collect?

As a last thought, I'm not clever enough to come up with the header, "My Mother's Charms," on my own. I stole it from a book I saw last fall in Virginia. I'm sure it's a great book, but I haven't read it. If you have, what was it about?

Let's Feed the Fishies Grass

2006-05-19T06:45:00.000-05:00

Last summer the girls and I went camping with my family. We were high up near the tree line and spent 4 days hiking, picking wildflowers, playing kick-the-can, roasting marshmallows at the fire.

Here's a photo of about two-thirds of us on a hike up near a lovely Lilly-padded lake.

One afternoon some of the group went fishing. Cleo went along, and I stayed at our camp with Gigi, who was napping. Word got back to me that Cleo was a bit noisy, but overall had a fun time. However, her impression of fishing was that it was the bestest, funnest thing in the world. In the past 10 months, she's asked me repeatedly if she can please go fishing with Gramps? (As seen in the picture below.)

Here are her instructions for fishing.

Get a stick and a string.
Put them in the water and wave them around.
Catch a fish.
Pet the fish and feed the fishies grass.
Sing a song to the fish and rock it.

I like her version of fishing. It doesn't involve worms, hooks, or the dreaded cleaning and eating of said fish.

I Should Patent This

2006-05-19T06:23:00.000-05:00

My children love to sing. I'm constantly hearing skewed versions of various songs the girls have heard once or twice and are trying to sing. So, I came up with this game, to help them learn the actual words--or at least with repetition they will get a few more lyrics right.
I bought about four dozen bright colored sticks, put the title of the song on one side, and a guide to the various verses on the back for me. ( I just can't keep all the verses to Frosty the Snowman straight, no matter how many times I sing it.) I even attempted to color code them so action songs are one color, Christmas songs another, songs I don't like I can avoid, etc.

Then I let the girls pick out a container to keep the sticks in. Almost daily one of the girls will bring the song canister to me and we'll spend half an hour with them picking sticks from the can and then singing the song. They LOVE, LOVE, LOVE to do this, and since I like to sing with them, and hear their sweet voices, I admit I love it too.

Try it sometime. It's cheap, easy, and you can add your family favorites--I included "Cowboy Joe," a favorite of ours, and a couple songs in French we love to sing, even though we don't know what all the words mean.

Little Purple Pansies

2006-05-18T05:37:00.000-05:00

These lovely, and unusual pansies are from Monet's garden. Here in France, everything is in bloom, from the giant purple Irises bordering my driveway, to the weed daisies my girls find so exciting invading my lawn. It's lush. These pansies made me think of the song "Little Purple Pansies," and I started to sing it with my sister-in-law nearby and she had never heard of the song. So, I then asked her about other songs I consider standard for any child growing up in the west, like "In the Leafy Treetops," which she also didn't know, and "When I Grow Up, I Want to be a Mother..." I was dumbfounded and a bit sad that she didn't know any of these songs. My girls and I sing them (okay, not the mother song--it's just too schmaltzy) all the time.

So, what songs do you sing/hum when feeling all happy inside?

Garden Divine

2006-05-18T04:39:00.000-05:00

This is Monet's Garden

These are my daughter's in front of a beautiful Japanese Maple
and other colorful foliage.

Makes me wish I was a poet.
Or a painter.

Giverny in spring, when the flowers are in full bloom is a
MUST SEE.

Have Sister-in-law, Will Travel

2006-05-17T09:51:00.001-05:00

This week continues the invasion of the visiting family members with a week long visit from my husband's sister, Gip. This is her second visit to us in the past year, and means loads of fun for my girls, free babysitting, and travel for us.

We spent Mother's Day weekend exploring the canals of Brugge, Belgium--A MUST SEE for those who haven't been there. It's called the Venice of the North, and for good reason. It's a city full of amazing old-world architecture, museum's that are just the right size, interesting history, great food, and all the cobblestone streets you can shake a stick at. We took a nice little boat tour and saw the city from it's many canals enjoying the spring flora and the 15th century architecture.

Our next stop was to Antwerp, also in Belgium, so see the diamond capitol of the world. On the whole, it was a disappointment after Brugge, but still worth a drive by if you want to dicker with old diamond and gold dealers. We visited because my in-law's visit there each year to buy their years supply of diamonds, so after hearing about it for so long, we decided to see the city itself.

We then loaded up in our fancy station-wagon, and drove to Delft in The Netherlands (aka Holland). Here toured a Delft porcelain factory full of the most scrumptious porcelain ever. Think toille on vases, tiles, and plates. We were so impressed with the artistry of it all (even my husband) that we invested in a beautiful vase to take home.

After all this fun, we drove home, a mere four hours away. I'm amazed that in this short distance away from our home in France, that we can cross the borders of two countries with their own languages and cultural personalities.

Good Mexican Food and Moving to New York

2006-05-10T11:54:00.002-05:00

My favorite restaurant has been gone for 6 years. It went out of business and was taken over by a cheap imitation. They featured fabulously thick tortillas and amazing salsa with fresh tomatoes and cilantro AND promptly served coke with lemon with as many refills as one can ingest in one sitting. It was at this restaurant that my husband and I decided to move away from our tiny little town and take off for New York--without a place to live or jobs.

We chose a date, almost at random, rented a van, and picked a route to the East Coast. We drove our 20 foot van with our cat Jezebel meowing and hiding at our feet, stopping by various places to visit friends and family.

When we neared NY we realized we didn't have an actual destination and so we looked on the map and found an area with more than your average number of golf courses, figuring that would be a safe place to call our temporary home. We lived in a hotel, with Jezebel as contraband, and happened on an acquaintance at church. Our acquaintance soon became our best friend as she invited us to move into her one bedroom apartment and reside there with her two cats while we found both jobs and a place to live.

We lived with our friend, affectionately nicknamed Cordelia, for a month while I scoured the apartment listings, and JL went to the city everyday to talk to job agencies. It was discouraging, and we were running out of money, but on the same day I found an affordable apartment ($1000 per month for a one bedroom that allowed cats) Jl found a job--albeit a temporary one working for Suzanne Sommers' book agent.

We didn't know it when we moved in, but we were in living in a Hacidic Jewish neighborhood. We loved observing their lives, watching black coated men, with their knickers, long beards and curls at the sides of their heads, with their huge furry hats walking around stoically. Our favorite thing to do was drive around on Saturday--a day when no Hacidics will drive a car to keep their Sabbath holy--and watch the huge families with wives in wigs, and clothing suited to the 1950's push strollers with similarly outdated clothed children.

It was an experience to be an outsider looking in.

In our particular apartment complex, where we lived for 1 year, I took interest in an older man with a very long white beard, and very traditional clothing. He never made eye contact with me, though each time I saw him I would smile and sometimes when I was feeling very brash would say hi. One week before we moved, after a year of seeing him weekly or more, he finally responded to my greeting. Not with words, but with a half-smile and a nod. I was elated.

Even though it was the smallest of gestures, it meant the world to me. I guess I realized that day, more than ever it's the little things that count...

Happy Birthday Sweetheart!

2006-05-09T16:06:00.000-05:00

My dear daughter Cleo will be turning four this weekend. She's informed me she wants a "blue Cinderella cake with Cinderella, the step-sisters, the mommy, the mices, the cat, and the pumpkin."

She says the funniest things. Here is her version of "Frosty the Snowman," currently her favorite song.

Frosty the Snowman, was a jolly happy soul.
With a corn cob pipe and a butt and nose and two eyes made out of coal.
There must have been some magic and that old black cat they found,
For when they placed her on his head he began to dance around.

Cleo also loves Mary Poppins, and when visiting London in March I took her to see Mary Poppins the musical. She stood and danced the entire show, much to the delight of the less-than-sober couple sitting behind us. Her favorite song is "Step in Time," but she's delighted to hear and sing "Let's Go Fly a Kite," with her rendition of the lyrics of course.

What a delight she is, and worth the six years of waiting, the horrendous nightmare of a pregnancy, and the month of visiting her little preemie self in the hospital while her father and I worried about her well being and weight gain. What a joy.

P.S. The photo is of her the day before Easter in Italy, she paused in her running just long enough for me to snap a picture and then took off.

A Year in France

2006-05-09T15:52:00.000-05:00

I sometimes have to remind myself that I live in France. I live such an quiet life that days go by without my interacting with anything specifically French. We don't have TV, most of the songs on the radio station I listen to are by American or British artists, I don't read the paper, and I live at the end of a dirt road surrounded by orchards and huge old houses--each of which has an eight foot tall gate to maintain privacy. I have such a gate at the end of my driveway. It's nice, but I miss the openness of typical American suburbia. One where kids play on their neighbors lawns, and neighborhood cookouts might occur (not that any neighborhood I ever lived in had one). I suppose I'm feeling a bit homesick. JL is in London for a very quick trip, and I've passed another day caring for my two young daughters (seen posing in the photo). Today, other than milk you don't refrigerate and a few food items with French writing on them, I've been in an American cocoon. I'd like to reach out more, but the French are so French, and I'm so me that finding a place for myself here has been a challenge. (Have I mentioned I don't speak much French?) Anyway, I'm not complaining, just sort of sorting it out in my head.

The Tower of London

2006-05-08T11:39:00.000-05:00

Very interesting--worth a moring for the Beef Eater Tour.

Big Ben--Bigger in Person

2006-05-08T11:35:00.000-05:00

Me in the chilling wind in front of Parliment and Big Ben.

The Century Club

2006-05-07T15:29:00.000-05:00

A while back I read a magazine article about something called the Century Club. It was about people who go to extremes to visit as many foreign countries as possible. One interesting story was about how to visit islands that are owned by the military and therefore forbidden to tourists. The article noted how some in the Century Club have been known to charter a boat as close to the island as possible, sail to it, and purposefully destroy part of their engine so they can then send out a distress signal which the military will be obligated to respond to-thus enabling the tourist to visit the forbidden island. Others go on cruises in the Caribbean just so they can hit all the tiny island/countries and add them to their list.
While I'm no Century Club member, I do like the idea of compiling lists.
So here's my list of countries I've visited/lived:

1. USA
2. Canada
3. Saudi Arabia
4. China
5. Hong Kong (I'm counting this as a country, so there!)
6. Japan
7. Singapore
8. France (where I now live)
9. Andorra
10. Spain
11. Portugal
12. Gibraltar (I'm also counting this, though those in Spain would debate me)
13. Belgium
14. Luxembourg
15. West Germany/Germany
16. Switzerland
17. Austria
18. Italy
19. Greece
20. Barbados
21. Martinique
22. Vatican City
23. The Netherlands

I think this is all, though I'll have to check with my mother on this.

Places I'd like to visit include Iceland (I'm desperate to visit the mythic Blue Lagoon), Finland/Sweden (the fjords), Mexico, and Fiji.

We have a tentative trip planned for Ireland this summer, so while it's not totally independent, I'll add that to my list as well.

What countries have you visited? Where did you like the best? Worst?

Faithful Director--ME?

2006-05-07T11:20:00.000-05:00

So here is my personality test result. While the faithful part is right on, I have my doubts about the director part, as I hate responsibility.

Faithful Director

Well, good thing tests like these aren't binding.

Care to psyche me????

http://personaldna.com/psychyou-psychme.php?for=718da50c0820