I'm trying something new at Chinese school on Sundays. Tai Chi. It is by and part to get me up and off the "white table". What is the "white table"? At school most of the white adoptive parents drop off their kids and then head on down to the cafeteria and congregate around one or two tables and chat. Some tell orphanage or travel stories, some talk about schools, some knit, some read. The Chinese parents do pretty much the same but at other tables by themselves. I'm not sure what they talk about. Probably the same things minus the orphanage visit stories. This is not a racial comment or anything on my part...just an observation. I suspect it is a human nature thing...if you are a bear you hang with the bears and don't really make too many owl friends. If you are a bear...bear stuff is comforting and familiar and easy. Owl stuff is weird, and they eat strange stuff, and they have wings. Bears know nothing of wings.
One of the things I want most out of Chinese school is to experience Chinese American culture. This is the selfish part...I find other cultures and other people fascinating. For my kids, I simply don't want them feeling like they have never met an owl when they leave my den. How awful to look like an owl in the big wide open forest but only know bear stuff. It's weird. And I fear someone will have to call the therapist to the animal kingdom if we ignore our obvious differences. But then I am one to be known who worries about being the root of my children's future therapy.
The tai chi practice is an attempt to step away from the bear den and climb a tree to learn how to sit like and owl. I know this analogy sounds rather contrite and simplistic. But the concept of stepping away from the "white bear" table is not. It is not simple and it is not easy. As a side note I am getting a little bit of a physical workout while practicing tai chi each week. More than my usual weekly round of blog reading and sewing can offer a growing girl's butt. The bad news is that I am clearly the big white girl with no obvious rhythm or sense of stage presence in the back row. Thank God for small favors when I tell you that there are no mirrors since the practice takes place in a high school cafeteria. I might have to quit if there were mirrors.
And yet even though I cannot move gracefully and I cannot seem to remember even 4 of the 24 basic movements I love Tai Chi. I love watching my neighbor smoothly swoop down while his hand holds an imaginary ball. I am mesmerized by the old lady in the front row who wears hard soled street shoes and never topples over while raising her left foot high into the air.
When I am doing it...or lacklusterly thumping along...I feel like I am one of them. The music is starting to feel familiar in the same way Dave Brubek's jazz feels familiar to me. Take Five was played in my house as a little girl. I know I am not one of them but for that short period of time the whole bit about Chinese school doesn't feel so "owlish" to me.
Last week us serene folks on the Tai Chi side of the cafeteria were drowned out by the loud rukus of the beating drums and wild dancing dragon and 3 lions. They were practicing for the up coming Chinese New Year show. I couldn't concentrate at all with all the noise and energy. This made me especially daft with my Tai Chi. But just as I was about to be annoyed at the interruption of the loud music...I looked over at the huge dragon shaking his head and that felt familiar too. It's CNY time of course the dragon would be practicing. Of course the tiny beautiful ladies performing ballet would be tip toeing around each other enpointe. And I relaxed.
I have no idea how long I will keep at the Tai Chi practice. I have no idea whether it is giving me or Ava anything remotely like window access to her home culture. But at least I can say we tried a few steps out of the comfy den.
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
Thursday, January 31, 2008
January has left the calendar
I have nothing officially against January. My daughter and my mother were born in this frosty month so, for that I am grateful. However, it does usually end up becoming the month that just will not end for me each year. Why is it that July has 31 days, just as January does but January seemingly drags for for what seems to me like about 50 days...where July just seems to slip through my fingers amongst glasses of backyard lemonade and hoola hooping kids?
So, in this the winter of my discontent, I've been trying to keep busy. Remember the Target clearance sheets?
They have become this.
A nice bright spring green addition if I don't say so myself.
Here is one cute little kid trying out the new duvet cover.
I've also been wishing away the chillies with mind over matter through fabric. I'm stalking the internet and quilt shops for only bright happy springy colors and lighter weights! Mind over matter...the weather man is predicting 4 inches of snow tonight.
Anyway, stop on over at Pink Evita to see some bright and colorful additions to take away the winter blahs.
So, in this the winter of my discontent, I've been trying to keep busy. Remember the Target clearance sheets?
They have become this.
A nice bright spring green addition if I don't say so myself.
Here is one cute little kid trying out the new duvet cover.I've also been wishing away the chillies with mind over matter through fabric. I'm stalking the internet and quilt shops for only bright happy springy colors and lighter weights! Mind over matter...the weather man is predicting 4 inches of snow tonight.
Anyway, stop on over at Pink Evita to see some bright and colorful additions to take away the winter blahs.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
My day and my back
Oh, my back feels old today. I rolled over this morning and heard a loud crack. Then the wind was almost knocked out of me as I attempted to move my arms, shooting pain. I groaned while attempting to slowly slink out of bed. I have no idea how I could have injured my back while laying on it...but I have. I wonder if this recent resurgence in back pain has something to do with wearing a 27lb. 2 year old several hours a day? Must ask chiropractor tomorrow about that.
After a very long, very hot shower in attempt at heavy duty hydrotherapy for my aching back I shuffled both children off to mom's morning out and kindergarten. Thank goodness for small favors if you have to have a bad back day....it is always best to have it on a day where 4 hours are carved out without kidlets mangling you.
I scooted off to two quilt shops looking for this. Retail therapy is a proven analgesic for physical pain. I found plenty of Michael Miller sock monkeys and Dick and Jane prints but no Chinese kids playing. Sad. I almost had to cave in on the sock monkeys...but then thought better of it and scooted on home to order it online. I'm not sure why I'm obsessed with this material right now and think that I absolutely will die if I don't get it. But I do. Regardless of what the old ladies at the quilt shop think, Michael Miller fabric rocks. One pre-historic blue haired gal sniffed as I asked for my prize. She said that most of "that novelty wear" was mixed in throughout the store and she had no idea how I could easily locate the Chinese kids material amongst the 10,000 bolts of calico prints. Fine, go cut some of that heinous country blue small print for the next gal. Does anyone helpful under the age of 83 work in fabric?
Once home I pacified myself with a baked potato, 2 advil, and her.
This is Hopper San, or Hopper three in Mandarin circles. I finished her little yellow coat, added some white eyelash trim and she is ready to be picked up by her new Mommy. Someday she will belong to a little girl who had a 9/2006 LID China date. The best part about Hopper San is her lavender bead bling on the bottom of her underskirt. What bunny doesn't need a bit of bling? Ava said that she liked this Hopper better than her original Hopper...she suggested a trade. Ugh, sorry babe.
Next up on this rainy day?
Green polka dots sheets that will be transformed into a duvet cover for Ava's bed. This is a project that I have been putting off for over a year. She has the best warm down comforter with no duvet cover. It will be ruined sooner or later if I don't cover it. I found the sheets at Target on clearance, for less than I could have purchased material. Of course bonus pillow cases already come made up when you convert sheets to duvet covers.
I'll post bed pictures when there is a pretty duvet to photograph.
P.S. I ordered some made in Mexico oil cloth a few days ago for sturdy grocery bags. (Arrow down for story.) I'm waiting patiently for the UPS truck to deliver my oil cloth...think sunny yellow and bright purple florals? Very Mexican indeed. They will surely make grocery shopping much happier.
After a very long, very hot shower in attempt at heavy duty hydrotherapy for my aching back I shuffled both children off to mom's morning out and kindergarten. Thank goodness for small favors if you have to have a bad back day....it is always best to have it on a day where 4 hours are carved out without kidlets mangling you.
I scooted off to two quilt shops looking for this. Retail therapy is a proven analgesic for physical pain. I found plenty of Michael Miller sock monkeys and Dick and Jane prints but no Chinese kids playing. Sad. I almost had to cave in on the sock monkeys...but then thought better of it and scooted on home to order it online. I'm not sure why I'm obsessed with this material right now and think that I absolutely will die if I don't get it. But I do. Regardless of what the old ladies at the quilt shop think, Michael Miller fabric rocks. One pre-historic blue haired gal sniffed as I asked for my prize. She said that most of "that novelty wear" was mixed in throughout the store and she had no idea how I could easily locate the Chinese kids material amongst the 10,000 bolts of calico prints. Fine, go cut some of that heinous country blue small print for the next gal. Does anyone helpful under the age of 83 work in fabric?
Once home I pacified myself with a baked potato, 2 advil, and her.
This is Hopper San, or Hopper three in Mandarin circles. I finished her little yellow coat, added some white eyelash trim and she is ready to be picked up by her new Mommy. Someday she will belong to a little girl who had a 9/2006 LID China date. The best part about Hopper San is her lavender bead bling on the bottom of her underskirt. What bunny doesn't need a bit of bling? Ava said that she liked this Hopper better than her original Hopper...she suggested a trade. Ugh, sorry babe.Next up on this rainy day?
Green polka dots sheets that will be transformed into a duvet cover for Ava's bed. This is a project that I have been putting off for over a year. She has the best warm down comforter with no duvet cover. It will be ruined sooner or later if I don't cover it. I found the sheets at Target on clearance, for less than I could have purchased material. Of course bonus pillow cases already come made up when you convert sheets to duvet covers.I'll post bed pictures when there is a pretty duvet to photograph.
P.S. I ordered some made in Mexico oil cloth a few days ago for sturdy grocery bags. (Arrow down for story.) I'm waiting patiently for the UPS truck to deliver my oil cloth...think sunny yellow and bright purple florals? Very Mexican indeed. They will surely make grocery shopping much happier.
Friday, January 25, 2008
Grocery Bags
This morning the Muffin Man and I were watching the Today show over coffee. They have this series on going green where everyday they try to give you little tips on saving money and doing right by the environment. Go green.
They showed Matt Lauer "shopping" for groceries at this amazing store that looked like a high end converted train station. Obviously this store was in Manhattan. Ahhh, if only my dirty Meijer looked so nice. I found myself hard pressed to believe that Matt Lauer really shops for his own groceries in a suit and tie. But they did have these nifty grocery bags which are reusable in the piece. They were pretty bright colors and reusable. The grocery store clerk commented that she asks people if they want to purchase the reusable bags to cut down on plastic consumption. On my last trip to Meijer not only did they not even offer me paper...they were very careless about unsticking the plastic bags from each other resulting in me getting about 10 extra bags. I commented that I'd like to make sure we only got the number of bags we needed and I would help separate them only to be given the serious hairy eyeball by the clerk.
The Muffin Man made the comment that this reusable grocery sack stuff was fine for the slick urban folks who shop for about 2 bags of groceries at a time. Us suburbanites with 2 kids, pets, and a costco membership would simply never carry the 25 bags we would need to the grocery store each and every $220.00 run to fill the cart. He scoffed. I told him "Fine, pull your stupid straight republican ticket." And then I walked into the kitchen and poured myself another cup of Dunkin Donuts coffee that came in a huge plastic bag from Costco.
All day long I've been thinking about those ridiculous grocery bags. Why wouldn't we just get the bags hang them in the pantry and use them? Really is it that much more work? I make handbags for heavens sake. I could make the bags out of canvas or oilcloth.
Perhaps it is for spite, or genuine interest in reducing our rather large environmental footprint but I think I'm going to make the grocery bags and see if I can make it work. Yes, I think I want them in pink frilly patterns and then make HIM take them to the grocery.
Does anyone know where to get super cool looking oilcloth at ridiculously low yardage prices?
They showed Matt Lauer "shopping" for groceries at this amazing store that looked like a high end converted train station. Obviously this store was in Manhattan. Ahhh, if only my dirty Meijer looked so nice. I found myself hard pressed to believe that Matt Lauer really shops for his own groceries in a suit and tie. But they did have these nifty grocery bags which are reusable in the piece. They were pretty bright colors and reusable. The grocery store clerk commented that she asks people if they want to purchase the reusable bags to cut down on plastic consumption. On my last trip to Meijer not only did they not even offer me paper...they were very careless about unsticking the plastic bags from each other resulting in me getting about 10 extra bags. I commented that I'd like to make sure we only got the number of bags we needed and I would help separate them only to be given the serious hairy eyeball by the clerk.
The Muffin Man made the comment that this reusable grocery sack stuff was fine for the slick urban folks who shop for about 2 bags of groceries at a time. Us suburbanites with 2 kids, pets, and a costco membership would simply never carry the 25 bags we would need to the grocery store each and every $220.00 run to fill the cart. He scoffed. I told him "Fine, pull your stupid straight republican ticket." And then I walked into the kitchen and poured myself another cup of Dunkin Donuts coffee that came in a huge plastic bag from Costco.
All day long I've been thinking about those ridiculous grocery bags. Why wouldn't we just get the bags hang them in the pantry and use them? Really is it that much more work? I make handbags for heavens sake. I could make the bags out of canvas or oilcloth.
Perhaps it is for spite, or genuine interest in reducing our rather large environmental footprint but I think I'm going to make the grocery bags and see if I can make it work. Yes, I think I want them in pink frilly patterns and then make HIM take them to the grocery.
Does anyone know where to get super cool looking oilcloth at ridiculously low yardage prices?
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
About Race...and who killed MLK
We read Martin's Big Words now and again. I wouldn't call it a bookcase favorite or anything but since yesterday was MLK day and there was not so much peace here on the cul-de-sac I thought..."Hey, what the heck. Let's read this at bedtime." I think Ava "got it" on a different level this time. She is just beginning to understand what not being white is. And when you have to explain what "not being white" is to the sweetest most adorable little kid in the world whom you would throw yourself in front of a truck for, well, it stings. It stings like a pang of sour milk in the deepest pit of your gut. And then it resonates...hanging on like a dull headache that even 3 Advil will not help.
Last time we read the book she argued that she was white. "Look at my skin, Mommy. It's pretty much the same color as yours." Yes, I said...pretty close. But you were born in China...and your birthparents were Chinese, that means you are Asian." I say. "But you are Caucasian and grandma and grandpa are Caucasian." she rattled off in defiance. "You are adopted, and OUR skin color or race does not take away from the fact that you and your sister are Asian. Nothing will ever take that away from you." I say. I then tell her that I don't want anyone to ever tell her that she is not Asian, or somehow less of one race and more of another due to circumstances beyond her physical control. "Stand up, be yourself and don't be afraid to originally define whatever it is that makes you, YOU." I tell her on my bedside soapbox.
Last night there was no argument about skin color. There was no comparison of hands or eyes. She knows she is Chinese, Chinese American to be exact. As we read the book her focus was on injustice, not skin color. She just couldn't believe that someone would want to hurt Martin Luther King. She asked who killed him. I couldn't remember. I had to tell her I would Google it today. After school I will tell her it was James Earl Ray. That should be an interesting conversation to have with a 6 year old.
The very last thing she asked was if she could have a Martin Luther King Day party next year. She told me I could read the book to her friends and we would design party invitations. Then she asked if we could do a Martin Luther King craft too. I told her I wasn't sure if Martin was into crafts but sure we would come up with something.
I told her I thought Martin might like that. Next year, we are having a MLK peace party. If you're in town you're invited.
Last time we read the book she argued that she was white. "Look at my skin, Mommy. It's pretty much the same color as yours." Yes, I said...pretty close. But you were born in China...and your birthparents were Chinese, that means you are Asian." I say. "But you are Caucasian and grandma and grandpa are Caucasian." she rattled off in defiance. "You are adopted, and OUR skin color or race does not take away from the fact that you and your sister are Asian. Nothing will ever take that away from you." I say. I then tell her that I don't want anyone to ever tell her that she is not Asian, or somehow less of one race and more of another due to circumstances beyond her physical control. "Stand up, be yourself and don't be afraid to originally define whatever it is that makes you, YOU." I tell her on my bedside soapbox.
Last night there was no argument about skin color. There was no comparison of hands or eyes. She knows she is Chinese, Chinese American to be exact. As we read the book her focus was on injustice, not skin color. She just couldn't believe that someone would want to hurt Martin Luther King. She asked who killed him. I couldn't remember. I had to tell her I would Google it today. After school I will tell her it was James Earl Ray. That should be an interesting conversation to have with a 6 year old.
The very last thing she asked was if she could have a Martin Luther King Day party next year. She told me I could read the book to her friends and we would design party invitations. Then she asked if we could do a Martin Luther King craft too. I told her I wasn't sure if Martin was into crafts but sure we would come up with something.
I told her I thought Martin might like that. Next year, we are having a MLK peace party. If you're in town you're invited.
Monday, January 21, 2008
Where is the peace?
Isn't Martin Luther King day supposed to be about peace and non-violence? My kids did not get the memo.
Ava, my 6 year old threw an embarassing tantrum when leaving Liv's parks and recreation music class this morning as she saw children using the indoor pool through the glass. She wanted to stay and swim. We didn't bring swimsuits since we were there for music class. Her solution was to simply run home and get swimsuits. I explained we needed milk and had to run to the grocery. Huge whining hissy fit in front of music class buddies ensued. I then casually remarked to another mother..."Thank God for full time Kindergarten.", and was met with blank stare and of course fit throwing 6 year old.
Twenty minutes later at grocery store Liv pitched a big old fit when she would not get in the cart...opting instead to walk along side of the cart. Which would be fine if she would truly walk along side the cart, which she simply will not. She has to skip gleefully while pulling produce down off the racks. Apparently watching oranges and apples bruise while hitting the dirty floors is monumental fun in her mind. As we moved to the self checkout lane Ava insisted in placing her hands on the overly sensitive bag plate. This completely confused the self check out machine and insisted I be carded for buying frozen pizzas. After convincing the attendant I was not hiding Jack Daniels in my cart I sniped at Ava to keep her hands to herself and stand on the other side of the cart. Then I found myself in a long conversation up in my head about the possibility of going back to aisle 12 and actually picking up a big old bottle of Jack Daniels...and feeding it to my kids. I have no idea how long this weird little day dream lasted but it was long enough for Ava to wander over to the in store bank and attempt to apply for a home equity loan at 6.25% in return for a cherry sucker. The obviously childless attendant gave me this lovely look shooting daggers at me for being one of THOSE yelling mothers. Fine. She then gave me the non-verbal look adoptive mothers sometimes get when one questions whether or not you are their mother. Seriously lady, why the hell would I take the time to bark at a 6 year old applying for a loan just to get the free sucker while pulling organic eggs away from the 2 year old in the cart if it wasn't my kid?
We are now home and Olivia is naked in my house which is set to a chilly 65 degrees. She has spent 1/2 hour contemplating the complexity of her belly button complete with waving at it. She is only distracted by tossing My Little Ponies at her sister's head. I'm not sure why she insisting on the naked bit...but seriously it would be a little smarter of her to go through this phase when June hits.
And I wonder why January brings the wet blanket of motherhood depression my way. I have a dream...yes I have a dream that someone will come rescue me and send me to Jamaica ALONE and toss in a load of whites while they are at it.
Ava, my 6 year old threw an embarassing tantrum when leaving Liv's parks and recreation music class this morning as she saw children using the indoor pool through the glass. She wanted to stay and swim. We didn't bring swimsuits since we were there for music class. Her solution was to simply run home and get swimsuits. I explained we needed milk and had to run to the grocery. Huge whining hissy fit in front of music class buddies ensued. I then casually remarked to another mother..."Thank God for full time Kindergarten.", and was met with blank stare and of course fit throwing 6 year old.
Twenty minutes later at grocery store Liv pitched a big old fit when she would not get in the cart...opting instead to walk along side of the cart. Which would be fine if she would truly walk along side the cart, which she simply will not. She has to skip gleefully while pulling produce down off the racks. Apparently watching oranges and apples bruise while hitting the dirty floors is monumental fun in her mind. As we moved to the self checkout lane Ava insisted in placing her hands on the overly sensitive bag plate. This completely confused the self check out machine and insisted I be carded for buying frozen pizzas. After convincing the attendant I was not hiding Jack Daniels in my cart I sniped at Ava to keep her hands to herself and stand on the other side of the cart. Then I found myself in a long conversation up in my head about the possibility of going back to aisle 12 and actually picking up a big old bottle of Jack Daniels...and feeding it to my kids. I have no idea how long this weird little day dream lasted but it was long enough for Ava to wander over to the in store bank and attempt to apply for a home equity loan at 6.25% in return for a cherry sucker. The obviously childless attendant gave me this lovely look shooting daggers at me for being one of THOSE yelling mothers. Fine. She then gave me the non-verbal look adoptive mothers sometimes get when one questions whether or not you are their mother. Seriously lady, why the hell would I take the time to bark at a 6 year old applying for a loan just to get the free sucker while pulling organic eggs away from the 2 year old in the cart if it wasn't my kid?
We are now home and Olivia is naked in my house which is set to a chilly 65 degrees. She has spent 1/2 hour contemplating the complexity of her belly button complete with waving at it. She is only distracted by tossing My Little Ponies at her sister's head. I'm not sure why she insisting on the naked bit...but seriously it would be a little smarter of her to go through this phase when June hits.
And I wonder why January brings the wet blanket of motherhood depression my way. I have a dream...yes I have a dream that someone will come rescue me and send me to Jamaica ALONE and toss in a load of whites while they are at it.
Friday, January 18, 2008
6 for 6
It's 1/18/08 and she's 6!
Here are 6 for 6.
1. The silly faces were her idea. I love that about her.
2. She wanted to make sure that her sister had her picture taken too. I love that about her.
3. She went to the fabric store with me for business on HER special day without complaining. Then she finagled candy from me at the counter due to her hardship and good behavior. I love that about her.
4. She trotted off to afternoon kindergarten singing at the top of her lungs. I love that about her.
5. She came home from school and asked where her sister was. Man, I love that about her.
6. The girl fell asleep this afternoon, tuckered out from the festivities. But not before stealing a bag of potato chips and forgetting to hide them well.
Seriously, this kid will be just fine in life. I love that about her.
Here are 6 for 6.
1. The silly faces were her idea. I love that about her.
2. She wanted to make sure that her sister had her picture taken too. I love that about her.
3. She went to the fabric store with me for business on HER special day without complaining. Then she finagled candy from me at the counter due to her hardship and good behavior. I love that about her.
4. She trotted off to afternoon kindergarten singing at the top of her lungs. I love that about her.
5. She came home from school and asked where her sister was. Man, I love that about her.
6. The girl fell asleep this afternoon, tuckered out from the festivities. But not before stealing a bag of potato chips and forgetting to hide them well.
Seriously, this kid will be just fine in life. I love that about her.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
We were ready for some football!
These are the happy faces of two little football fans before the big game on Sunday. Perhaps Ava was extra special smiley because she got to weasel out on Chinese school to attend the football party our friend's hosted. Please don't rat us out if you know us in person.
A great time was had by all. Everyone got to make fun of me because I brought my knitting bag to the game. (In my defense, I wore the Muffin Man's old jersey and sat down right in front of that football game.)
But then...they lost. Goodbye football until next August.
The Muffin Man professed serious disdain and is wondering what the heck he will do the rest of the month. Poor Muffin Man.
It is the reality of the life and times of a football fan.
Monday, January 14, 2008
More About Hopper
Forgive this, the gratuitous post and promotion of my little business. I've had a few sweet comments about Ava's new BFF Hopper. I'd be happy to make Hopper's baby brother or sister for you if you'd like one. Easter is right around the corner right? Can you tell I am already emotionally and physically over the month of January, it is about 15 degrees here.
Of course, this was not the original reason for making Hopper. I never had any intention of making multiple Hoppers, but hey she is pretty darn cute and she makes Ava happy. Hmmmm...maybe she would make another little child happy too? Come to think of it, don't rabbits have a reputation for multiplying rather quickly? Maybe making Hopper friends would be good bunny karma.
Ava's Hopper has an underskirt, dress, and jacket complete with fuzzy red fringe and a button closure. All of which can be taken on and off during playtime. She also has a removable red bow tied around her head. (Ours is now underneath the playroom sofa cushion, go figure. I know this because I sat on it this morning while cleaning up spilled coffee, grrrr.)
If you would like a Hopper you could pick his/her colors. Including the colors for the clothes too, of course. This might be on the verge of too much personal information about Hopper...but I'll add delicately that I don't stuff Hopper too tightly because I want Hopper to be a well loved and used doll. Too much stuffing makes for an uptight bunny and who wants to snuggle up at night with a brick bunny? Just ask Ava, she prefers a floppy bunny.
Hopper and the outfit sell for $50.00 plus $5.00 to ship her anywhere you'd like. email me at pslowey@indy.rr.com if you are interested in a Hopper.
Friday, January 11, 2008
I'll take Montessori for 200, Alex
Preschool...who knew it could be so complicated?
When it was time for Ava, my now kindergartner to go to preschool, I simply pooled the other mothers in our playgroup and promptly signed her up where her LBF (little best friend) was attending. Proud parenting moment...I know. It turned out just fine though, the play based religious affiliated preschool was good for her. The first two years she had wonderful teachers. This, her final year there has been ok...not great but not horrible either. I know I've written about this before, LBF is also a Chinese adoptee whom we met on our first adoption trip. The girls are practically inseparable and will attend different public schools in the same district next year for 1st grade. Honestly, the fact that she gets to keep close contact with LBF is a large part of why I'm keeping Ava at the school for another few short months. But now that Liv is preschool age, or will be in the fall I'm more seriously considering our early education options.
I'm sensing that Olivia might prefer a more low key child centered individualistic approach to time spent off mama's hip next fall. She self entertains pretty well and seems to have a decent attention span for a two year old. She is sensitive and kind. She will walk away from any confrontation and is fairly compliant for a two year old. I don't see her leading the band of three year olds in animal antics any time soon.
So, with this being said I wonder if she might be the type of kid who would do well in a Montessori program? I toured one school this week and they are accredited and seem to be Montessori purists. I liked the director and the kids seemed really happy. (Many Montessori programs only incorporate parts of the Montessori philosophy into their curriculum but are mostly play based programs.) However, they suggest signing a three year old up for 4-5 mornings a week. Oh, no that won't do for us. I can't imagine Liv going to school that many days a week at just 3 years old. Obviously they are catering to the working parent's schedule...which is fine...but not for us. (This school even seemed to have a feeder day care center down the street.)
I could opt for the mom's morning out program where she is now and continue into next year. But, it seems more like babysitting and I hate the way the teachers do a craft for the kids each week. I don't need a preschool teacher's obviously created craft on my pantry door each week. Why do preschool teachers seem to think that parents need perfectly constructed art each week? And what is my kid doing when they are completing the craft for my kid?
I did a little research into Waldorf schools. But I don't think we have one here in town. Then I looked into Reggio Emilia. I think I'd spend quite a bit of time as a preschool taxi service, there is not one on this side of town...that is if we could even get in.
Maybe the happy medium is accredited Montessori and finding one with morning hours to suit Liv's nap schedule, my reluctance to spend $100 a week on gas going back and forth to preschool and perhaps more importantly...allowing her a place to feel comfortable with other kids and grow up into a fine upstanding citizen who knows her way around a basket of beans. (forgive the small Montessori joke.)
Good grief...how many more years until kindergarten again?
When it was time for Ava, my now kindergartner to go to preschool, I simply pooled the other mothers in our playgroup and promptly signed her up where her LBF (little best friend) was attending. Proud parenting moment...I know. It turned out just fine though, the play based religious affiliated preschool was good for her. The first two years she had wonderful teachers. This, her final year there has been ok...not great but not horrible either. I know I've written about this before, LBF is also a Chinese adoptee whom we met on our first adoption trip. The girls are practically inseparable and will attend different public schools in the same district next year for 1st grade. Honestly, the fact that she gets to keep close contact with LBF is a large part of why I'm keeping Ava at the school for another few short months. But now that Liv is preschool age, or will be in the fall I'm more seriously considering our early education options.
I'm sensing that Olivia might prefer a more low key child centered individualistic approach to time spent off mama's hip next fall. She self entertains pretty well and seems to have a decent attention span for a two year old. She is sensitive and kind. She will walk away from any confrontation and is fairly compliant for a two year old. I don't see her leading the band of three year olds in animal antics any time soon.
So, with this being said I wonder if she might be the type of kid who would do well in a Montessori program? I toured one school this week and they are accredited and seem to be Montessori purists. I liked the director and the kids seemed really happy. (Many Montessori programs only incorporate parts of the Montessori philosophy into their curriculum but are mostly play based programs.) However, they suggest signing a three year old up for 4-5 mornings a week. Oh, no that won't do for us. I can't imagine Liv going to school that many days a week at just 3 years old. Obviously they are catering to the working parent's schedule...which is fine...but not for us. (This school even seemed to have a feeder day care center down the street.)
I could opt for the mom's morning out program where she is now and continue into next year. But, it seems more like babysitting and I hate the way the teachers do a craft for the kids each week. I don't need a preschool teacher's obviously created craft on my pantry door each week. Why do preschool teachers seem to think that parents need perfectly constructed art each week? And what is my kid doing when they are completing the craft for my kid?
I did a little research into Waldorf schools. But I don't think we have one here in town. Then I looked into Reggio Emilia. I think I'd spend quite a bit of time as a preschool taxi service, there is not one on this side of town...that is if we could even get in.
Maybe the happy medium is accredited Montessori and finding one with morning hours to suit Liv's nap schedule, my reluctance to spend $100 a week on gas going back and forth to preschool and perhaps more importantly...allowing her a place to feel comfortable with other kids and grow up into a fine upstanding citizen who knows her way around a basket of beans. (forgive the small Montessori joke.)
Good grief...how many more years until kindergarten again?
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Hopper
Meet Hopper. She's the newest addition to the family.Ava has been eyeing this green fleece with the red bugs material in my sewing room for over a month now. She would ask me repeatedly if she could have it. Ummm...no my new material is not for dragging around the playroom until it collects dust bunnies and gets all stretched out. So, I kept telling her I would make her something out of the material when I got a chance. The other day she asked about it again with forlorn little eyes. Oh, the guilt. I will sew for any old stranger out there but not my beloved little children. Sniff Sniff. (It goes without saying the kid can work her mother over like Tony Soprano with a baseball bat in his right arm.)
She wanted a stuffed animal. I wanted to make her a little skirt. Skirts are boring she informed me. I wish I would have known that when I donated all of her shorts last summer which she absolutely would not wear, instead opting exclusively for yes, you guessed it skirts. I couldn't see the green fleece being made in to a ladybug stuffed animal. Too predictable. Try explaining that to an almost 6 year old.
Instead we settled on Hopper. I pulled down scraps of material too precious to throw away and yet too small to usually be able to do anything great out of. I know most good crafters will save miniscule bits of fabric only to whip them up into something ready for a gallery wall one day. Me? I save them and then get tired of the bits of clutter and toss them every few months. However, Hopper is a reluctant savers dream come true.
Her little coat is made from Ava's favorite fleece material but the rest is just leftovers from handbags and Christmas decorations, ie. her hair ribbon.
Ava now sleeps with Hopper and carries her around the house after school. Ahhh, my heart swells two sizes.
Sunday, December 30, 2007
Diggin' Out
Am I the only one who simply cannot wait to take down the tree and subsequent trimmings on or about December 26? As I write this I think it sounds ummm...rather scroogy but I can't help it. We are having dear friends over for New Year's eve and I do understand that some people like to remain festive up to an including January 1. Weaklings, I say. Weaklings without minor OCD and clutter issues.
When I asked for a little muscle help to put the tree away for the love of God so I would not need mental health pharmaceuticals to help me deal with the Christmas carnage around here the Muffin man gently suggested we leave the decorations up for the little party. Oh, you know me better than that, "It all has to go...today." "You have issues, he states." "Yes, I know." I reply. "Now put down that newspaper and get happy wrapping that tree up." He simply shook his head this year and did not even batten down the hatches for a good argument. Smart man.
So, I've been digging out for the last 48 hours...popcorn tins have hit the recycle bin. Stray pez dispensers have been neatly stored in the candy basket on top of the refrigerator. The myriad of Christmas crafts and paper cards have been tossed. I had to wait until Ava was distracted for that one. And finally as my piece de' resistance the left over Christmas night cabernet sauce for filet mignon has been flushed down the sink. Bye-bye bits of yummy wine and butter heaven. Oh yes I forgot, table linens are dancing in various stages of unrest around the Maytag in the laundry room.
And yet...I am nowhere near back to normal. The toy mongers are following me around the house barfing Pet Shop pieces and Webkinz. Baby doll bottles appear wherever I step with a bare foot. New stuffed animals appear on door knobs hung by their necks with colorful silk scarves. This is the stuff of true life Blair Witch Projects.
Would you believe that this was a scaled down Christmas? Each child received a few toys from us...we put nothing on credit and instead focused on craft projects and time spent together. Oh yes, and some pretty damn fabulous meals. But alas, the childrens' stuff is still running the household and windows and doors are bulging. We may have to crack a window to release pressure before March.
Signing off for now. I'm headed downstairs to eat the last of the cookies so the Santa tinplate can be stored away for another 11 months.
When I asked for a little muscle help to put the tree away for the love of God so I would not need mental health pharmaceuticals to help me deal with the Christmas carnage around here the Muffin man gently suggested we leave the decorations up for the little party. Oh, you know me better than that, "It all has to go...today." "You have issues, he states." "Yes, I know." I reply. "Now put down that newspaper and get happy wrapping that tree up." He simply shook his head this year and did not even batten down the hatches for a good argument. Smart man.
So, I've been digging out for the last 48 hours...popcorn tins have hit the recycle bin. Stray pez dispensers have been neatly stored in the candy basket on top of the refrigerator. The myriad of Christmas crafts and paper cards have been tossed. I had to wait until Ava was distracted for that one. And finally as my piece de' resistance the left over Christmas night cabernet sauce for filet mignon has been flushed down the sink. Bye-bye bits of yummy wine and butter heaven. Oh yes I forgot, table linens are dancing in various stages of unrest around the Maytag in the laundry room.
And yet...I am nowhere near back to normal. The toy mongers are following me around the house barfing Pet Shop pieces and Webkinz. Baby doll bottles appear wherever I step with a bare foot. New stuffed animals appear on door knobs hung by their necks with colorful silk scarves. This is the stuff of true life Blair Witch Projects.
Would you believe that this was a scaled down Christmas? Each child received a few toys from us...we put nothing on credit and instead focused on craft projects and time spent together. Oh yes, and some pretty damn fabulous meals. But alas, the childrens' stuff is still running the household and windows and doors are bulging. We may have to crack a window to release pressure before March.
Signing off for now. I'm headed downstairs to eat the last of the cookies so the Santa tinplate can be stored away for another 11 months.
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Merry Christmas
A very Merry Christmas and peace in the new year from us to you!Ava scored the awesome new leopard jacket. (obviously from her very cool auntie and cousin who love to shop) Livi sports the grin of a gal who's just eaten plenty of tiramasu!
Friday, December 14, 2007
Teacher Gifts
It's teacher gift time here. I love teacher gift time. I read an article in the paper recently about what teachers like to receive most and least. Believe it or not homemade gifts did make it amongst the top of the list. (Probably because those being interviewed had too much class to say Cash is King folks.) I have the utmost respect for teachers and wish that I could gift them what they most deserve during the holiday season...a big fat raise. But I can't, so I'll sew.Ava was instructed to ask favorite colors of her three teachers. She attends 2 schools for kindergarten and has 3 teachers who are in the room at all times as luck would have it. One teacher stated green and one professed blue as favorites. They are getting the blue and brown striped bag on the far left and the fern green and dark brown on second from the right. They are large enough to be considered tote bags for lugging papers back and forth to the classroom but small enough to be used as everyday handbags if they so choose. Her wonderful 1st year teacher is getting the holiday hipster bag in the center with the beads hanging from the bottom and long tartan plaid handle. I am gambling on a 23 year old wanting a black velvet holiday bag? Something got lost in translation with Ava and I'm unsure of her favorite colors.
This might also be the reason I can't figure out which boy in her class is giving her lovely handmade necklaces. I'm suspicious there might be a 5 year old love triangle brewing though. More on the juicy details when I get the facts straight.
Olivia's Mom's Morning Out teachers are getting the brown floral bags. One is very pregnant and I thought she might like a diaper caddy. See second from left. It is a clutch and lifts open to store 2 diapers and a package of wipes.
It is perfect for storing in the car or taking into a restaurant when you don't want to lug the gignoramous diaper bag for a 1 hour trip. I use mine ALL the time. The little matching bag on the far right is for the other teacher in the room. I have no idea whether she is a teal and brown fan...I was debating whether it is a good idea for someone I hardly know...but was told I was overthinking the situation. Who me? Overthinking something as insignificant as a teacher gift for a woman I hardly know who sees my child all of 4 hours a week? Probably guilty as charged.
There they are in all their glory...our family's thank you to the teachers in our lives. We respect your patience and talents! Happy Holidays Teachers.
I'm signing off to make a wristlet for my hair stylist... I see her tomorrow and mama needs a chic bob.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Chillin' Out
She's waiting patiently for the bed linens to be washed and dried and put back on the bed. Yes, she's bellied up to Elmo. And yes, those are her arms propped nicely up behind her head.
Rainy...cold...December day, no worries.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Elmo Rules Hannah Drools
Scene: Cul-de-sac kitchen.
Time: A few weeks ago.
Ava: (With hand on hip.) "Ugh, Mom THAT is soooo like OVER." she said referring to her sister's toy blocks when I suggested she pick them up and build a castle.
Me: Hmmm...so like over. "Ava, Did your zip code change to 90201?"
Ava: "Huh? No, mom it is 46....." (My five year old can be quite literal, it is sometimes endearing even in the throws of hip swinging and improper English.)
Me in mental note to self: "That Hannah Montana and all those other crappy teeny bopper shows are sooooo like outtta here." Fur sure.
And that is how Elmo got promoted. Or perhaps he got resurrected from the ever mounting dvd collection collecting dust in our tv cabinet. That...and Liv has suddenly realized that Elmo = baby crack. Gotta have it, will beg whine and steal to get it.
There was no official indoctrination with pinky swear or small blood draw stating that Hannah Montana is officially out (so like, over) at our house. There was not even a 20 minute soliloquy that mama so loves to procure expounding on the evils done to society when 5 year olds act and talk like 16 year old valley girls who drive little red Audi's of their own. No, that would invoke a little too much 5 1/2 year old drama. And like the chick from the Black Eyed Peas states, "You don't want no drama." No, mama don't want no drama.
Hannah's exodus was quiet and without fanfare. She left the building and playroom twirling in her too short pleated skirt complete with 1980's footless tights that my daughter will not be getting for Christmas. Elmo and all his talk of being a good friend, proper hand washing techniques, and all the animals in the world that make him happy have swooped in at 5:15 pm each day. Two little girls who simply will not grow up too fast watch happily while using wooden blocks to build castles. The truth of the matter is that the newly imposed "No, Hannah" rule was in fact a little dicey the first few days...but then like all bad habits we simply supplemented with another bad habit and all was fine back at the ranch in no time at all.
I, in turn can make a dinner in peace. I am also rewarded with a soon to be 6 year old who speaks like a soon to be 6 year old.
Elmo rocks our house.
Time: A few weeks ago.
Ava: (With hand on hip.) "Ugh, Mom THAT is soooo like OVER." she said referring to her sister's toy blocks when I suggested she pick them up and build a castle.
Me: Hmmm...so like over. "Ava, Did your zip code change to 90201?"
Ava: "Huh? No, mom it is 46....." (My five year old can be quite literal, it is sometimes endearing even in the throws of hip swinging and improper English.)
Me in mental note to self: "That Hannah Montana and all those other crappy teeny bopper shows are sooooo like outtta here." Fur sure.
And that is how Elmo got promoted. Or perhaps he got resurrected from the ever mounting dvd collection collecting dust in our tv cabinet. That...and Liv has suddenly realized that Elmo = baby crack. Gotta have it, will beg whine and steal to get it.There was no official indoctrination with pinky swear or small blood draw stating that Hannah Montana is officially out (so like, over) at our house. There was not even a 20 minute soliloquy that mama so loves to procure expounding on the evils done to society when 5 year olds act and talk like 16 year old valley girls who drive little red Audi's of their own. No, that would invoke a little too much 5 1/2 year old drama. And like the chick from the Black Eyed Peas states, "You don't want no drama." No, mama don't want no drama.
Hannah's exodus was quiet and without fanfare. She left the building and playroom twirling in her too short pleated skirt complete with 1980's footless tights that my daughter will not be getting for Christmas. Elmo and all his talk of being a good friend, proper hand washing techniques, and all the animals in the world that make him happy have swooped in at 5:15 pm each day. Two little girls who simply will not grow up too fast watch happily while using wooden blocks to build castles. The truth of the matter is that the newly imposed "No, Hannah" rule was in fact a little dicey the first few days...but then like all bad habits we simply supplemented with another bad habit and all was fine back at the ranch in no time at all.
I, in turn can make a dinner in peace. I am also rewarded with a soon to be 6 year old who speaks like a soon to be 6 year old.
Elmo rocks our house.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
The Private Kindergarten Post
Here it is as promised:
I no longer like private kindergarten. I love public school. Or, I love our public school...so far. Ava has a delightful 12 year old teacher...this is her first year and she is so darn eager to do a great job...that simply said, I love her and her glue smelling, glitter decked, overly English labeled classroom. She has taught my kid to read, has her in a leadership role helping other children, and has her prepared to spew off more Spanish learned in 3 months than she has learned Mandarin in 3 years of rote learning at Chinese school. I heart public school.
Public kindergarten in my township is still part time. You can of course pay to send your child full time but tax dollars still pay for 1/2 time. This is of course short lived and full time Kindergarten will more definitely be state wide mandated by the time 2 year old Livi gets to school. (Another issue worth debating if I ever sit down long enough to gather random thoughts.)
Ava is a kid sponge and is full of confidence...she has always loved the academic and social parts of preschool. She gets quite saucy when home staring at her unused toys. She loves television and I completely admit to caving on too many occasions letting her zone out in front of the tv rather than listening to whatever ranting and raving she can come up with while bored at home. This is why we decided on supplementing regular public school kindergarten with the private program that is supposed to be arts and literature based rather than beating ABCs and 123s into her little head. However, the teacher who developed the program 15 years ago at arts and literature school up and quit 2 weeks before the school year started. School hired new teacher and she is fine. Yes, fine...nothing terrific...nothing personal, I am sure she is a nice enough person if I ever had the opportunity to say more than 3 words to her.
This is verbose but leading me to my winter of discontent with arts and literature private school. I signed up to be room mom for the class and have offered on numerous occasions to volunteer. Teacher has bitten on my offers to help with class not one time. I was very open and honest when I signed up that I have a 2 year old at home and she is NOT ready to be shipped off to co-op babysitting and is thus attached to my hip. They said fine, no problem while making goo goo eyes at my sweet Liv. So, I filled out the mountain of paperwork getting my $30 background security check while running to the local police department myself and then sending in a fat yellow envelope asking for yet more proof I am not an axe-murderer or child molester. (Keep in mind the school knows that I have been fingerprinted by the local, state and federal governments 2 times in the last 5 years due to the adoptions.) Copies of my last fingerprinting in 2006 would not suffice for the school, they must have yet another fingerprinting to allow me entry to the school or to drive children on field trips.
Last week I volunteered for a field trip. I was told that I couldn't volunteer if I insisted on taking Olivia with me. Couldn't I find a babysitter? Well, no...I have no family in town and the Muffin Man is a little busy working outside the home in order to pay the mortgage. On a side note I did try to swap kids with another mother a few weeks ago and Liv just about lost her marbles during the attempted handoff. If was not pleasant and Livi will be riding my hip until her 18th birthday or her first date, whichever comes first.
Mrs. Arts and Literature explained that I could not be "in charge" of walking children around a museum while watching Olivia too. I get this. I'm ok with it. You can't have parents watching rambunctious 2 year olds AND be responsible for extra 5-6 year olds. I explained that I would drive separately and would have no official duties but I'd be happy to just be another adult to help out where needed. Then Mrs. Arts and Literature says that won't be allowed since it might not be fair to the other parents who actually got babysitters for their younger children and sometimes parents are late for field trips and she doesn't want to have to wait for anyone who is late. What? This is the rationale...don't want to possibly offend a parent who got a babysitter? You are expecting parents to be irresponsible and late for functions? At a kindergarten field trip?
Ok, last week I had my panties all in a twist over this. I've now calmed myself a wee bit. But I did call the PTA president and calmly explained that they might want to review their room parent and field trip handbook for next year. Nowhere does it state that younger siblings will be banished from any and all activities and paying $30 for a background check is completely a waste of time for any parent wanting to help out unless they want to come alone, you will not be allowed to do ANYTHING with the class unless you are ALONE. I also explained that driving separately to a public place cannot be technically banned for a parent with a younger sibling. It is a public place after all. In the same breath I mentioned that I personally would not do this...show up at the field trip uninvited just to see my little darling stare at Native American art for the sake of just being an asshole. But you never know...your policy might not keep the next parent away from a public place on the day of said field trip. Policy that cannot be enforced is usually not a good idea. PTA president said she would take it under advisement.
In the end, I could take Ava out of this program. But perhaps that would be knee jerk and overly dramatic and there are only 5 more months. The class isn't horrible or anything...it is just well...ok. Nothing outstanding.
I'm researching Montessori schools for Liv.
I no longer like private kindergarten. I love public school. Or, I love our public school...so far. Ava has a delightful 12 year old teacher...this is her first year and she is so darn eager to do a great job...that simply said, I love her and her glue smelling, glitter decked, overly English labeled classroom. She has taught my kid to read, has her in a leadership role helping other children, and has her prepared to spew off more Spanish learned in 3 months than she has learned Mandarin in 3 years of rote learning at Chinese school. I heart public school.
Public kindergarten in my township is still part time. You can of course pay to send your child full time but tax dollars still pay for 1/2 time. This is of course short lived and full time Kindergarten will more definitely be state wide mandated by the time 2 year old Livi gets to school. (Another issue worth debating if I ever sit down long enough to gather random thoughts.)
Ava is a kid sponge and is full of confidence...she has always loved the academic and social parts of preschool. She gets quite saucy when home staring at her unused toys. She loves television and I completely admit to caving on too many occasions letting her zone out in front of the tv rather than listening to whatever ranting and raving she can come up with while bored at home. This is why we decided on supplementing regular public school kindergarten with the private program that is supposed to be arts and literature based rather than beating ABCs and 123s into her little head. However, the teacher who developed the program 15 years ago at arts and literature school up and quit 2 weeks before the school year started. School hired new teacher and she is fine. Yes, fine...nothing terrific...nothing personal, I am sure she is a nice enough person if I ever had the opportunity to say more than 3 words to her.
This is verbose but leading me to my winter of discontent with arts and literature private school. I signed up to be room mom for the class and have offered on numerous occasions to volunteer. Teacher has bitten on my offers to help with class not one time. I was very open and honest when I signed up that I have a 2 year old at home and she is NOT ready to be shipped off to co-op babysitting and is thus attached to my hip. They said fine, no problem while making goo goo eyes at my sweet Liv. So, I filled out the mountain of paperwork getting my $30 background security check while running to the local police department myself and then sending in a fat yellow envelope asking for yet more proof I am not an axe-murderer or child molester. (Keep in mind the school knows that I have been fingerprinted by the local, state and federal governments 2 times in the last 5 years due to the adoptions.) Copies of my last fingerprinting in 2006 would not suffice for the school, they must have yet another fingerprinting to allow me entry to the school or to drive children on field trips.
Last week I volunteered for a field trip. I was told that I couldn't volunteer if I insisted on taking Olivia with me. Couldn't I find a babysitter? Well, no...I have no family in town and the Muffin Man is a little busy working outside the home in order to pay the mortgage. On a side note I did try to swap kids with another mother a few weeks ago and Liv just about lost her marbles during the attempted handoff. If was not pleasant and Livi will be riding my hip until her 18th birthday or her first date, whichever comes first.
Mrs. Arts and Literature explained that I could not be "in charge" of walking children around a museum while watching Olivia too. I get this. I'm ok with it. You can't have parents watching rambunctious 2 year olds AND be responsible for extra 5-6 year olds. I explained that I would drive separately and would have no official duties but I'd be happy to just be another adult to help out where needed. Then Mrs. Arts and Literature says that won't be allowed since it might not be fair to the other parents who actually got babysitters for their younger children and sometimes parents are late for field trips and she doesn't want to have to wait for anyone who is late. What? This is the rationale...don't want to possibly offend a parent who got a babysitter? You are expecting parents to be irresponsible and late for functions? At a kindergarten field trip?
Ok, last week I had my panties all in a twist over this. I've now calmed myself a wee bit. But I did call the PTA president and calmly explained that they might want to review their room parent and field trip handbook for next year. Nowhere does it state that younger siblings will be banished from any and all activities and paying $30 for a background check is completely a waste of time for any parent wanting to help out unless they want to come alone, you will not be allowed to do ANYTHING with the class unless you are ALONE. I also explained that driving separately to a public place cannot be technically banned for a parent with a younger sibling. It is a public place after all. In the same breath I mentioned that I personally would not do this...show up at the field trip uninvited just to see my little darling stare at Native American art for the sake of just being an asshole. But you never know...your policy might not keep the next parent away from a public place on the day of said field trip. Policy that cannot be enforced is usually not a good idea. PTA president said she would take it under advisement.
In the end, I could take Ava out of this program. But perhaps that would be knee jerk and overly dramatic and there are only 5 more months. The class isn't horrible or anything...it is just well...ok. Nothing outstanding.
I'm researching Montessori schools for Liv.
Thursday, December 06, 2007
In My Head
I've been writing in my head. Really, almost everyday I get a fleeting thought about something that I might like to sit down at the computer and write about. And for oh, I don't know how many days, I didn't. But now I do, here I am. For what's it worth I've been busy.
On Nov. 25 I went to a Pink Evita party and sold 28 hand bags. One month before Christmas. And I promised them to everyone and their mother in less than 2 weeks. So, the shit and lots of colorful material hit the fan and I spent 9 days in cul-de-sac captivity sewing up bags. Then I got the idea (yes, I got it from a friend not while dreamily thinking up new and fabulous design ideas in my uninterrupted sleep) to add little lobster claw beaded charms to all the handbags that have zippers. Super, more work and another idea to draw out the process of finishing the bags and delivering them on time. Oh, but they are uber cute. Pictures to follow when I get off my butt and snap a picture.
You might be thinking that some fairy or commercial cleaning and decorating service came into the house to clean and decorate the joint for the most festivious season of them all while I've been locked away in the sewing room? You'd be wrong. I have dirt left over from Halloween. I found proof upon discovering a skittles wrapper in Ava's room yesterday. Let's be honest, adding Christmas dirt onto Halloween dirt endears us to no one. Present company not excepted. This morning Liv and I had no formal plans and took to digging the place out. I cleaned for 2 hours downstairs alone and it looks presentable...not great mind you only presentable. I'm not sure what possessed me but several puzzles, two cookbooks, and a 14 year old builder grade toilet paper holder bit the dust. I danced a jig while Livi bathed herself in episode after episode of THE GOD-like creature us mortals call ELMO. In case you were wondering...she is his biggest fan. She spits upon Dora, and thumbs her nose non-chalantly at those Backyardagains. ELMO is her homeboy, she needs a tee shirt to prove it.
What would possess a normal average American family to think it a good idea to put away a blender in a remote cabinet before cleaning it? It must have been the Muffin Man. I found it today in the recesses of a kitchen cabinet which has probably been without human touch for over 8 months to a year with mystery brown stains. We can hardly blame this one on the children either, like we normally do with all other embarrassing quirky tidbits. But to my knowledge it is a household rule that anyone under the age of ten living here does not on a regular basis use the blender. Here is the really weird part...the cup part of the blender was squeaky clean...the base was growing some new form of Penicillin. Thank God for small favors like Clorox wipes. One blender down 10,000 feet of baseboards to go. (We all know the reality of the situation includes that fact that I will certainly lose interest in those Clorox wipes, they will once again fall out of favor and I will be writing about adding Easter dirt to Christmas dirt in a few short months.)
Aside from mystery stains and Elmo sightings we are all ultimately fine in the large scheme of universal and quantum wellness. We are of course contemplating setting up a tree. And perhaps a few stockings. It's an idea anyway.
Oh, one more thing to get you completely caught up. I decided to skimp on the family budget and try to take the girls' holiday picture by myself after I got them dressed in cute matching holiday outfits. How hard could it possibly be to get only 1 fabulous photo of a most cooperative almost 6 year old and a tame and docile 2 year old? Costco has holiday greeting cards 50 for $15.99 after all. Snap on.
For the love of God, I needed a glass of wine the other night after trying desperately to manage the 26 hour delay on the overpriced hunk of junk Minolta and my 2 squirming children. I guiltlessly helped myself to an over sized glass of stemless vino rather than plunging my fingernails into each of their eyeballs.
Here is the picture..this is after 60 shots and doctoring it up on photoshop. Mediocre...I'd say. (Not the children, the photo.)
If you know us in real life you will be receiving a hard copy courtesy of Costco's photo department easy template services in a mail box near you on or about Feb. 2nd.
Next update could include why I might quit Chinese school, why I no longer like private Kindergarten or other yet to be named bits of holiday cheer.
On Nov. 25 I went to a Pink Evita party and sold 28 hand bags. One month before Christmas. And I promised them to everyone and their mother in less than 2 weeks. So, the shit and lots of colorful material hit the fan and I spent 9 days in cul-de-sac captivity sewing up bags. Then I got the idea (yes, I got it from a friend not while dreamily thinking up new and fabulous design ideas in my uninterrupted sleep) to add little lobster claw beaded charms to all the handbags that have zippers. Super, more work and another idea to draw out the process of finishing the bags and delivering them on time. Oh, but they are uber cute. Pictures to follow when I get off my butt and snap a picture.
You might be thinking that some fairy or commercial cleaning and decorating service came into the house to clean and decorate the joint for the most festivious season of them all while I've been locked away in the sewing room? You'd be wrong. I have dirt left over from Halloween. I found proof upon discovering a skittles wrapper in Ava's room yesterday. Let's be honest, adding Christmas dirt onto Halloween dirt endears us to no one. Present company not excepted. This morning Liv and I had no formal plans and took to digging the place out. I cleaned for 2 hours downstairs alone and it looks presentable...not great mind you only presentable. I'm not sure what possessed me but several puzzles, two cookbooks, and a 14 year old builder grade toilet paper holder bit the dust. I danced a jig while Livi bathed herself in episode after episode of THE GOD-like creature us mortals call ELMO. In case you were wondering...she is his biggest fan. She spits upon Dora, and thumbs her nose non-chalantly at those Backyardagains. ELMO is her homeboy, she needs a tee shirt to prove it.
What would possess a normal average American family to think it a good idea to put away a blender in a remote cabinet before cleaning it? It must have been the Muffin Man. I found it today in the recesses of a kitchen cabinet which has probably been without human touch for over 8 months to a year with mystery brown stains. We can hardly blame this one on the children either, like we normally do with all other embarrassing quirky tidbits. But to my knowledge it is a household rule that anyone under the age of ten living here does not on a regular basis use the blender. Here is the really weird part...the cup part of the blender was squeaky clean...the base was growing some new form of Penicillin. Thank God for small favors like Clorox wipes. One blender down 10,000 feet of baseboards to go. (We all know the reality of the situation includes that fact that I will certainly lose interest in those Clorox wipes, they will once again fall out of favor and I will be writing about adding Easter dirt to Christmas dirt in a few short months.)
Aside from mystery stains and Elmo sightings we are all ultimately fine in the large scheme of universal and quantum wellness. We are of course contemplating setting up a tree. And perhaps a few stockings. It's an idea anyway.
Oh, one more thing to get you completely caught up. I decided to skimp on the family budget and try to take the girls' holiday picture by myself after I got them dressed in cute matching holiday outfits. How hard could it possibly be to get only 1 fabulous photo of a most cooperative almost 6 year old and a tame and docile 2 year old? Costco has holiday greeting cards 50 for $15.99 after all. Snap on.
For the love of God, I needed a glass of wine the other night after trying desperately to manage the 26 hour delay on the overpriced hunk of junk Minolta and my 2 squirming children. I guiltlessly helped myself to an over sized glass of stemless vino rather than plunging my fingernails into each of their eyeballs.
Here is the picture..this is after 60 shots and doctoring it up on photoshop. Mediocre...I'd say. (Not the children, the photo.)
If you know us in real life you will be receiving a hard copy courtesy of Costco's photo department easy template services in a mail box near you on or about Feb. 2nd.
Next update could include why I might quit Chinese school, why I no longer like private Kindergarten or other yet to be named bits of holiday cheer.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Two
Olivia Xi GeGe is now officially two. Technically she has been two since the 12th. I am just now getting around to pulling myself away from the day to day management of home, hearth, and Pink Evita business. (Not necessarily in that order...there is some tending to the home and hearth that is well...in quiet desperation of some windex.)
Nonetheless, my precious wittle "w"one...turned two last week. We began the day with making cupcakes for her Mommy and Me play group which includes our beloved twin friends whom we met in China the same moment we met Liv. Of course there is also her BFF Mei Mei. Each and every time we get in the car Liv shouts "Mei, Mei?" which means do I get to play with Mei Mei? Being the slacker mom that I am we whipped together a few cupcakes and frosted them on the way out the door....so of course the frosting melted into a gooey glaze by the time we got to share them. I considered making up a story about how Olivia's cupcakes were frosted with the newest form of sheer fondant that the cooking.com had to offer but secretly thought no one in their right mind would buy that coming from me. Kudos to the other mom's for tactfully neglecting to mention the mess.
Then I realized I pretty much had NOT ONE OTHER THING planned for the blessed event that marks the auspicious occasion of my dear daughter's birth.
What is a girl to do? Go to Build A Bear. When in doubt...there is always build a bear.
The girls and I headed off to the mall as a special treat for Olivia's birthday with specific promises of one small bear and one small (aka cheap) outfit for said bear. These specific instructions were mostly for Ava's complete understanding and comprehension of the trip to the mall. But perhaps that goes without saying.
Take special note of the size of that bear. It is not small. Apparently Build a Bear knows nothing of the words tasteful and in moderation.
They both got big bears.
Is it weird that Ava looks more pleased with the whole birthday trip to the mall than Olivia?
Everybody gets a bath immediately upon being born yes?
Bears born at the mall do. In a sad turn of events the super bear drying machine scared the bejeezus out of Olivia and she had to move quickly into the bear clothes section of the store.
With bears in tow we then chose to eat chicken nuggets at the food court. A birthday feast to befit the occasion.
Back home at the ranch...there were left over cupcakes. Slacker birthday cupcakes, but cupcakes.
It turns out when you set the bar low...everyone is happy with a melted cupcake. That is my tidbit of wisdom for you today.
And that was birthday number 2...Olivia style.
Maybe next year she will get a pony.
Nonetheless, my precious wittle "w"one...turned two last week. We began the day with making cupcakes for her Mommy and Me play group which includes our beloved twin friends whom we met in China the same moment we met Liv. Of course there is also her BFF Mei Mei. Each and every time we get in the car Liv shouts "Mei, Mei?" which means do I get to play with Mei Mei? Being the slacker mom that I am we whipped together a few cupcakes and frosted them on the way out the door....so of course the frosting melted into a gooey glaze by the time we got to share them. I considered making up a story about how Olivia's cupcakes were frosted with the newest form of sheer fondant that the cooking.com had to offer but secretly thought no one in their right mind would buy that coming from me. Kudos to the other mom's for tactfully neglecting to mention the mess.
Then I realized I pretty much had NOT ONE OTHER THING planned for the blessed event that marks the auspicious occasion of my dear daughter's birth.
What is a girl to do? Go to Build A Bear. When in doubt...there is always build a bear.
The girls and I headed off to the mall as a special treat for Olivia's birthday with specific promises of one small bear and one small (aka cheap) outfit for said bear. These specific instructions were mostly for Ava's complete understanding and comprehension of the trip to the mall. But perhaps that goes without saying.
Take special note of the size of that bear. It is not small. Apparently Build a Bear knows nothing of the words tasteful and in moderation.
They both got big bears.
Is it weird that Ava looks more pleased with the whole birthday trip to the mall than Olivia?Everybody gets a bath immediately upon being born yes?
Bears born at the mall do. In a sad turn of events the super bear drying machine scared the bejeezus out of Olivia and she had to move quickly into the bear clothes section of the store.
With bears in tow we then chose to eat chicken nuggets at the food court. A birthday feast to befit the occasion.
Back home at the ranch...there were left over cupcakes. Slacker birthday cupcakes, but cupcakes.
It turns out when you set the bar low...everyone is happy with a melted cupcake. That is my tidbit of wisdom for you today.
And that was birthday number 2...Olivia style.
Maybe next year she will get a pony.
Thursday, November 08, 2007
Make A Left Onto The Cul-De-Sac
Johnny's Rolling MeMe of Doom has made a left and is now at my driveway. Here are the rules as I understand them.
1) Read the meme that wasdumped assigned to you. Answer the questions.
2) Add TWO new questions to the list. Answer those questions.
3)Forward Dump this onto the next blogger victim (and list their name and link to their blog).
4) This series will conclude when we get 50 questions - so yes, it's 25 bloggers in the chain.
5) Please make sure that the next victim in the "link" doesn't have a password protected blog.
[Optional 6] Update the links so people can follow along (this is similar to the method I used in the Why China series).
[Optional 7] When you see an update, down the chain, update your own page with the new questions and answers.
[Optional 8] Copy these micromanaging instructions into the top of your meme post.
2. Can you list an event in which you made a last minute decision or guess that significantly changed the path of your life?
In 2001 I found out that I was in remission from breast cancer. In an overly dramatic and tearful display I made my husband promise we would never again try fertility and we would adopt a child. We attended an adoption meeting at a church several weeks later after I heard an advertisement on the radio. I wore a wig. On the drive home we easily agreed that we would send in the application money to start an adoption from China. We never researched agencies or programs. 18 months later we were on a plane bringing Ava home. Then in 2005 we did that same thing and brought Olivia home. It never occurred to either one of us to read up on cancer recurrence rates, or adoption agencies, or countries or domestic vs. international. After I strong armed him into the decision we simply lept with closed eyes, wounded souls, and open arms. It was the best decision we ever made as a couple.
Learning more about how to take care of a car. My husband does this for me and I think it a little lame.
I wish I had tried to teach my mind to be a little more analytical in school. Math and physics were difficult for me. I never valued how those skills can open doors to other types of learning later in life.
Machu Pichu
New Zealand
Barcelona
Northern Ireland
Israel
Obviously, one place is simply not possible for me. I have serious wander lust and would pick up tomorrow and travel.
25. What’s your guilty pleasure?People magazine at the pedicure salon. Heaven on earth people.
Polka Boy at the local Rathskellar. Those dudes can jam. :)
I have an eye for colors and textures. That hasn't made me my first million or anything but it is proving helpful in my old age.
1) Read the meme that was
2) Add TWO new questions to the list. Answer those questions.
3)
4) This series will conclude when we get 50 questions - so yes, it's 25 bloggers in the chain.
5) Please make sure that the next victim in the "link" doesn't have a password protected blog.
[Optional 6] Update the links so people can follow along (this is similar to the method I used in the Why China series).
[Optional 7] When you see an update, down the chain, update your own page with the new questions and answers.
[Optional 8] Copy these micromanaging instructions into the top of your meme post.
1. What secret/surprising/personal goal (that is realistically achievable within the next 15 years) would you like to fulfill?
I'd like to expand my wee little bitty handbag business into a storefront and run it with some friends. We'd be happy and comfortable while filling our souls with creative work every day. I'm completely fine with keeping my "dropped out" status in corporate America.
I'd like to expand my wee little bitty handbag business into a storefront and run it with some friends. We'd be happy and comfortable while filling our souls with creative work every day. I'm completely fine with keeping my "dropped out" status in corporate America.
2. Can you list an event in which you made a last minute decision or guess that significantly changed the path of your life?
In 2001 I found out that I was in remission from breast cancer. In an overly dramatic and tearful display I made my husband promise we would never again try fertility and we would adopt a child. We attended an adoption meeting at a church several weeks later after I heard an advertisement on the radio. I wore a wig. On the drive home we easily agreed that we would send in the application money to start an adoption from China. We never researched agencies or programs. 18 months later we were on a plane bringing Ava home. Then in 2005 we did that same thing and brought Olivia home. It never occurred to either one of us to read up on cancer recurrence rates, or adoption agencies, or countries or domestic vs. international. After I strong armed him into the decision we simply lept with closed eyes, wounded souls, and open arms. It was the best decision we ever made as a couple.
3. What is one unrealistic goal (but your total secret dream) that you would love to come true, but are pretty sure it won’t ever happen?
Oprah calls me and says I must be on her show since I've lead a pretty interesting life so far. She likes my handbags, she thinks I'm talented and she secretly reads the blog. I politely decline saying I don't need the publicity I'm very busy woman. However, I'd be happy to have dinner with her in Chicago at the restaurant of her choice. She pays of course. We have some wine and good conversation, then I happily come home. 4. Who has had the most influence on your life and what did they teach you?
Probably my parents and their teachings of leading a life rich with family and kindness towards others. 5. You are on a deserted island. You are stranded with someone from any point in time for 2 months (they are coming to rescue you but are busy right now). Other then family/friends/naval engineers, who is it?
The Dalai Lama is too busy? Are you kidding?
The Dalai Lama is too busy? Are you kidding?
6. Name and describe 3 things on your mind lately. Is there any particular reason why you’re thinking about a particular thing?
Did I make the right decision in putting Ava in full time Kindergarten? She's very tired. And sort of whiny. But loves it. She's more clingy than normal. I worry about her at school.
Is Livi speech delayed, or simply laid back? Shouldn't I just relax about it already, she is using more words?
Is making almost 100 handbags too many in 3 months for a part time job?
Did I make the right decision in putting Ava in full time Kindergarten? She's very tired. And sort of whiny. But loves it. She's more clingy than normal. I worry about her at school.
Is Livi speech delayed, or simply laid back? Shouldn't I just relax about it already, she is using more words?
Is making almost 100 handbags too many in 3 months for a part time job?
7. If you could go back to one moment in time and change it, what would the moment be and what would you change it from and to?
I think I would rethink how much I spent on a pair of jeans yesterday. Seriously, no regrets in the large scheme of life . Everything is right in its own time, it is not time well spent to Monday morning quarterback your life.
I think I would rethink how much I spent on a pair of jeans yesterday. Seriously, no regrets in the large scheme of life . Everything is right in its own time, it is not time well spent to Monday morning quarterback your life.
8. What is your biggest pet peeve and is there anything that you can do or not do to stop other people from doing it?
Don't you think the word actually is overused? It is driving me insane. I do it and I cringe. Why does every other sentence need to start with the word actually? The neighborhood kids do it and Ava does it. Poor English or over use of slang iritates me. 9. Who has been the most influential teacher in your life and why did he or she have such an impact on you? Have you sent them a note?
Mr. Brixus in 7th grade. He made me feel smart when I needed it. He made me feel normal when I wasn't. When I was in his class I loved learning. No, I never told him thanks. I moved and have no idea how to contact him. I did ask a very old friend what became of him. She told me he fell out of favor with that Catholic school when he obtained a divorce. Their loss, hands down. I hope he is happy in whatever he is doing. 10. What three things do you regret not learning to do?
Play piano.Learning more about how to take care of a car. My husband does this for me and I think it a little lame.
I wish I had tried to teach my mind to be a little more analytical in school. Math and physics were difficult for me. I never valued how those skills can open doors to other types of learning later in life.
11. What is your biggest fear?
Sometimes I get a twinge of worry about a cancer recurrence. I'm not afraid to die but I do not want to leave my girls before they are self sufficient adults. 12. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?
More patience. I can be pushy and driven in a slightly obnoxious way. I don't want my kids to get that from me. 13. What is the answer to life, the universe, everything?
Love, not romantic sappy love. Love is non-judgment and peace for all people. 14. If you knew, beforehand, that the wait for your child from China would take this long and drastic a time frame, would you still go through with it or would you choose another country?
We waited 13 and 12 months respectively after log in for our girls. It would be easy for me to say we'd do it all over exactly the same no matter what...but I'm not sure we would if we had to wait 3 years for a baby. 15. What is one food that most people like that you do not like at all?
Tomato soup and juice. Love fresh tomatoes, hate the juice and soup. It's weird.16. Name one place in the world you would love to spend at least one month visiting?
Yueyang, Hunan China and Yangxi Guangdong China. Machu Pichu
New Zealand
Barcelona
Northern Ireland
Israel
Obviously, one place is simply not possible for me. I have serious wander lust and would pick up tomorrow and travel.
17. What book have you just finished reading and why did you pick it up? Would you recommend it to others?
Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. She is hysterial and I loved it. I bought it because I'm a sucker for spiritual journey books. 18. Share a relatively quick and easy recipe for Fall. One pot/dish recipes given extra credit.
Back to #10. Can I add learn to cook better? 19. Would you rather be financially well off, but unhappy, or a happy person who is always in need of money?
I have a friend who is divorced and she jokes she will marry for money the next time around. It sounds all well and good but we all know truly happy people don't need tons of money. Just enough. Sign me up for happy. 20. What is the most comforting sound in the world to you and why?
The kids laughing together. Although the ocean tumbling is a close second. 21. What is your all time favorite book? If you aren’t a reader, what is your favorite movie? And why?Favorite book?
Too many to name one. When I was a young girl my favorite book was a Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith. But I have read so many great books since then. There is simply nothing better than losing yourself is a wonderfully written story. 22. Share one of your most cherished childhood memories.
For a short time we lived on the Mississippi River in a small town in Iowa. There was family down the street with 13 children. My brother and I spent so many carefree days running up and down the bluff that overlooked the river with all those kids. We put pennies on the train tracks to see them flattened. We hunted for Indian arrowheads and collected frogs and toadstools. We walked ourselves to the local pool and back again when it was near dark. We even walked to the local Dairy Mart for ice cream when we could get $.75 from our parents. It was easy living.23. What are you paranoid about?
Losing my child in a public place. I have overreacted so many times when one of them strays only 10 feet from me. I almost couldn't read Deep End of The Ocean by Jacquelyn Mitchard it was so emotional for me. 24. What trait of yours do you MOST hope your children will carry on?
Love of books, of course. Also, critical thinking on matters of most importance ie...spirituality and personal integrity. 25. What’s your guilty pleasure?People magazine at the pedicure salon. Heaven on earth people.
26. What would you buy if you had a thousand dollars to spend on yourself?
This sounds rather materialistic, but shoes good shoes. And then some fabric for fun sewing. And then a pair of fine leather boots. 27. Help me update my iPod...name your favorite artists, and then your favorite song that they perform.
I'm so lame in this department. I have Black Eyed Peas on my ipod. That is the only band that makes me feel a little cool when I listen to it. Are they cool anymore? Who knows. 28. What is your favorite charity?
Susan Komen. Half The Sky. And...Ava just brought home this amazing program from school for Heifer International. We put a few cents in a box everyday and it tells us all about how the money will go to buy livestock and farming supplies for people in need around the world. Teach a man to fish. . .that is a cool charity. 29. In The Shadow of the Wind, there is a beautiful passage that says “few things leave a deeper mark on a reader than the first book that finds its way into his heart.” Do you think this is true, and if so what is your “first” book and why.
This is unromantic, but no. I am passionate about books and I simply cannot remember my first book. I do remember reading Charlotte's Web as a little girl and crying and crying when Charlotte died. I loved that book. I guess it was the first book that found its way to my heart...so I'll change my answer to a resounding yes, it's true.30. What is your favorite wilderness hike and why? (You knew I was going to ask this-if you aren’t a hiker, you can modify it to drive by landscapes or whatever speaks to you.)
Taquamannon Falls, Upper Penninsula Michigan. It took my breath away. Does the Great Wall of China count as a wilderness hike? That was also pretty damned rock'in.31. What were/are your nicknames? Do you like them?
When I was little kids at school called me Klutz. It rhymed with my maiden name. How unfortunate that I was the tallest kid EVER and not terribly graceful. 32. What was your first concert? Your most recent?
Van Halen. Polka Boy at the local Rathskellar. Those dudes can jam. :)
33. Have you ever done someone the dirty? I mean really, foully, badly wrong. And would you do it again, and why?
I bet I have but I don't think it would have been intentional. I don't consider myself mean spirited.
I bet I have but I don't think it would have been intentional. I don't consider myself mean spirited.
34. If you found out that the universe HAD been created, and you could ask the Creator one question, what would it be?
Why are Men from Mars and Women From Venus? 35. What were your dreams as a child?
I remember wanting to be a lawyer. But it was probably because I thought my parents wanted me to be a lawyer. Then there was a time when I wanted to be a famous dancer in New York. Which I'm not sure where that came from since I never really danced beyond 8 years old. 36. What can you do better than most people?
Oh, lots of things. See #12 and the obnoxious stuff. I have an eye for colors and textures. That hasn't made me my first million or anything but it is proving helpful in my old age.
37. What's your favorite bird and why?
Oh dear, here is where I have to admit that I have a deep seeded bird phobia. My dear friend has a few in her house in little cages and I simply cannot understand it. I have to breathe deep and self talk the walk in her living room. I sometimes have nightmares about chicken feet, it truly creeps me out. I hate bird feet. However, I am learning to relax a bit about it and I do like watching the bluebirds and cardinals in my wooded backyard...as long as I can focus on their bodies and not their feet.
Oh dear, here is where I have to admit that I have a deep seeded bird phobia. My dear friend has a few in her house in little cages and I simply cannot understand it. I have to breathe deep and self talk the walk in her living room. I sometimes have nightmares about chicken feet, it truly creeps me out. I hate bird feet. However, I am learning to relax a bit about it and I do like watching the bluebirds and cardinals in my wooded backyard...as long as I can focus on their bodies and not their feet.
38. When/where did you last go camping? I've never been on a real overnight camping trip. Does a lower end Marriott count? I would like to try it. The older I get the less fussy I get. I could pee on a tree.
39. Is there something that you feel you should love doing with your kids but you really don't enjoy at all?
Ok, I don't really enjoy playing imaginary stuff with the girls. I like board games and reading but I dread when they want to play house or Dr. I avoid it like the plague.
40. What home improvement project is next on your list? Something as small as changing a light bulb counts.
We are adding cabinet door knobs after being knob'less for 13 years. This is a major event in our lives. When it is done I'll have to share a picture.
39. Is there something that you feel you should love doing with your kids but you really don't enjoy at all?
Ok, I don't really enjoy playing imaginary stuff with the girls. I like board games and reading but I dread when they want to play house or Dr. I avoid it like the plague.
40. What home improvement project is next on your list? Something as small as changing a light bulb counts.
We are adding cabinet door knobs after being knob'less for 13 years. This is a major event in our lives. When it is done I'll have to share a picture.
Red Hot n' Rollin': Johnny(1,2) -> Our Journey to China (3,4)-> 3D’s Adoption Journey (5,6)->Waiting for Pumpkin (7,8)->Two Kayaks (9,10)->Watch Our Family Grow (11,12)-> Our Journey to Little Maple and Back (13,14)-> American Family (15,16)-> Chicago Mama (17,18)-> The Further Adventures of Spacemom (19,20)-> Mrs. Figby (21,22)-> Mortimer’s Mom (23,24)-> Mimiboo (25, 26) -> Sopapilla (27, 28)->Jiangli (29, 30)->Beeb (31,32)-> FD Chief (33,34) -> The Daily Grind (35, 36); Different Dirt (37, 38); Twoladybugs (39,40)-> Forks and Chopsticks (41,42)
Forks and Chopsticks has been kind enough to play along next. Check her out soon.
Forks and Chopsticks has been kind enough to play along next. Check her out soon.
Thursday, November 01, 2007
The Genie and The LadyBug
All's well that ends well. Most importantly I, I mean the girls scored large amounts of Almond Joys and Kit Kats.In a flurry of post 45 minutes until we leave for Halloween party madness Ava whipped herself in to that genie costume, wearing only the headband. She paused only long enough to ask if I would FORCE her to wear her hair up. I replied, "No dear, when have I ever FORCED you to do anything with the exception of that hepatitis shot in 2006?" in my very best Mommy Dearest voice. I quickly followed, "You don't have to wear the head thingy...and don't answer that previous question, it was rhetorical." Again, she rolled her eyes at me. If I only had a dime.
Meanwhile back in the nursery, Olivia was happily tossing halloween costumes around the room like Gatsby in his dressing room. Ava and I chided Olivia into choosing a costume in our awful sugary voices. She chose ladybug over the Panda. (Mental note to self: Panda costume definitely goes into the TO BE SAVED plastic bin in the attic for future grandchild torture.) Or, if you send me an email I will ship it to the next victim free of charge.
Then we paused in all our grandness for the annual Halloween photoshoot.
The rest of the evening went off without a hitch. Ava went to trick or treat at our friend's house while her father walked the kids around the neighborhood. Livi stayed glued to my hip somewhat overwhelmed and overstimulated by all that is Halloween nowadays. I ate 2 bowls chilli, Livi ate pizza and sugar coated marshmellows by Cadbury. Did you get any this year? They did not disappoint. Livi stole 3 on the way out.
We hope your Halloween was filled with peace and joy in this of all seasons. (I'm gearing up for December, what can I say?)
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Will We Get Treats?
T minus 45 minutes until Halloween trick or treating and party festivities begin.
I just called Ava to the computer to look at Jeannie. I offered to perform hair miracles to complete the ensemble. No takers. She isn't interested and only wants to wear a new stretchy headband. Come on. I even dangled the prospect of a little pink lipstick...again no takies. She needs to finish a puzzle. Obviously I have not talked up Halloween up enough around here. I have not dangled enough fun sized Snickers. We may have a Genie that has no up-do and green vampire teeth...did I mention she is interested in wearing green vampire teeth with the pink Genie costume?
Vera Wang she is not. Independent she is.
Now the little one. Verdict is still not in. I have the not so popular but adorable and handmade Panda (see last post) ready and rearing to go. As a back up we have borrowed ladybug. Pre-nap time she expressed interest in stomping on both costumes with dirty shoes. Not so much with the final decision. She must get the complex nature from her sister.
We are dangerously close to wearing orange tee shirts...all three of us and heading off to friend's house for chili. But I'm not panic'ing yet. Someone will get their skinny little butt into a costume if it is the very last thing I do as a mother...mama needs chocolate.
I'll report back later with pictures no matter how gruesome.
I just called Ava to the computer to look at Jeannie. I offered to perform hair miracles to complete the ensemble. No takers. She isn't interested and only wants to wear a new stretchy headband. Come on. I even dangled the prospect of a little pink lipstick...again no takies. She needs to finish a puzzle. Obviously I have not talked up Halloween up enough around here. I have not dangled enough fun sized Snickers. We may have a Genie that has no up-do and green vampire teeth...did I mention she is interested in wearing green vampire teeth with the pink Genie costume?
Vera Wang she is not. Independent she is.
Now the little one. Verdict is still not in. I have the not so popular but adorable and handmade Panda (see last post) ready and rearing to go. As a back up we have borrowed ladybug. Pre-nap time she expressed interest in stomping on both costumes with dirty shoes. Not so much with the final decision. She must get the complex nature from her sister.
We are dangerously close to wearing orange tee shirts...all three of us and heading off to friend's house for chili. But I'm not panic'ing yet. Someone will get their skinny little butt into a costume if it is the very last thing I do as a mother...mama needs chocolate.
I'll report back later with pictures no matter how gruesome.
Monday, October 22, 2007
You Can Dress Me Up
Way back in 2004 I made a panda Halloween costume. I slaved to make sure this thing was perfectly warm for a cool October 31st evening in the Midwest. It had black and white faux fur with the best darn red sequin obnoxious bow I could muster. Every panda wears a red bowtie right? Nothing but the cutest for my little panda bear. What self respecting Chinese 2 year old would not wear a panda costume?
Well, that self respecting little 2 year old was Ava. The kid threw the biggest hissy over the thing and practically missed trick or treating due to the fact that perhaps she felt a wee bit silly in the thing. For the record I whipped out a piece of snickers bar and said if you wear panda there will be many more of these in your immediate future. Ava, being pretty damn smart with a wicked sweet tooth to boot...hopped into that panda costume toot sweet.
Then it was 75 degrees out that evening and she refused to wear the panda hat, made of cheap satin and fur. Being that Ava and I always compromise she wore the damned thing running from house to house while sweating off about 6 lbs in the fur costume. I casually explained it was never too early for a good mother to teach her daughter something about how to manage water retention. The poor little mite came home in her fur costume after running from house to house shouting Tricks and Treats not caring one iota that she was sweating on neighbors doorsteps stopping only when Skittles were offered.
Here we go...panda costume take 2.
Now who looks reluctant? And she's the perfect size for the genuine simulated panda fur imported from the nearest discount fabric house.
This costume must have some feral stink that only 2 year olds can smell.
When you are 38...it automatically smells like Downy and seems the like cutest damned thing since fancy pants on a 12 month old. She is definitely NOT wearing the hat.
It seems like she's contemplating the thought of possibly opting out of panda and going with fairy wings and a tutu.
She looks deliriously happy to be with panda. She just doesn't know about Snickers yet.
I'm calling my friend to ask if we can borrow the size 2T ladybug costume. Hmmmmgh.
More costume trials and tribulations later as I wrassle with the fact that my 5 year old is insisting on wearing a genie costume which shows huge amounts of bare midriff. And she looks pretty darn great in it. Will I be the complete prude and make her wear a white tee shirt under the costume?
These are the things that keep me up at night nowadays.
Well, that self respecting little 2 year old was Ava. The kid threw the biggest hissy over the thing and practically missed trick or treating due to the fact that perhaps she felt a wee bit silly in the thing. For the record I whipped out a piece of snickers bar and said if you wear panda there will be many more of these in your immediate future. Ava, being pretty damn smart with a wicked sweet tooth to boot...hopped into that panda costume toot sweet.
Then it was 75 degrees out that evening and she refused to wear the panda hat, made of cheap satin and fur. Being that Ava and I always compromise she wore the damned thing running from house to house while sweating off about 6 lbs in the fur costume. I casually explained it was never too early for a good mother to teach her daughter something about how to manage water retention. The poor little mite came home in her fur costume after running from house to house shouting Tricks and Treats not caring one iota that she was sweating on neighbors doorsteps stopping only when Skittles were offered.
Here we go...panda costume take 2.
Now who looks reluctant? And she's the perfect size for the genuine simulated panda fur imported from the nearest discount fabric house.
This costume must have some feral stink that only 2 year olds can smell.
When you are 38...it automatically smells like Downy and seems the like cutest damned thing since fancy pants on a 12 month old. She is definitely NOT wearing the hat.
It seems like she's contemplating the thought of possibly opting out of panda and going with fairy wings and a tutu.
She looks deliriously happy to be with panda. She just doesn't know about Snickers yet.I'm calling my friend to ask if we can borrow the size 2T ladybug costume. Hmmmmgh.
More costume trials and tribulations later as I wrassle with the fact that my 5 year old is insisting on wearing a genie costume which shows huge amounts of bare midriff. And she looks pretty darn great in it. Will I be the complete prude and make her wear a white tee shirt under the costume?
These are the things that keep me up at night nowadays.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
No noise
My house is completely quiet. I can hear the ticking of clocks. I didn't even know we had clocks that tick. This is how out of touch I am with quiet. I am loving it...and I'm slightly unnerved by it. I'm aimlessly walking throughout the house picking up my family's ill placed shoes and returning them to shoe trees in their rooms. I'm using this time to fantasize what life would be like if I had more time in the quiet like this. Someday I will visit an Ashram in India to give myself enough quiet time to choke a chicken.
Ava is at school, perhaps on a field trip perhaps not. Picking pumpkins in a mid-western corn/pumpkin field in the rain does not sound like a smashing good time to me...but hey, perhaps her 21 year old teacher is more energetic and saw fit to let the 15 kindergarteners hop the bus to pumpkinville. Is it evil of me to secretly pat myself on the back for declining to chaperone that one?
Liv is at mom's morning out/preschool. Yes, we continued and last week she turned a huge corner in the "preschool is not infact hell" saga. When I casually explained to the director, as we were about to quit, that if only there was a male teacher perhaps she would transition easier.
For whatever reason, Liv is not too terribly keen on new women she meets but honestly hasn't seen too many men she doesn't instantly fall in love with. Yes, I've repeatedly asked her pediatrician and a developmental therapist about this quirk and they do not seem to think it implies an attachment disorder for which we could later regret not seeking treatment for. I hope they are right.
Ms. Director quickly perked up and said, "Well, with your permission I could bring Mr. Roger in the room." Mr. Roger is a retired police chief who works at the church doing music ministry for children. He has a special needs daughter and has a special place in his heart for little kids. I quickly said let's give it a shot. Last week when we arrived at preschool there was Mr. Roger, a white haired gentleman in a tie. He wears a tie to preschool. With her two female teachers and the director watching from behind Liv jumped out of my arms into the strange Mr. Roger's lap. I shook my head and sighed. She wimpered a bit as I left but when I picked her up there was a glowing report, everyone, including my little Olivia was all smiles. Ms. Director met me at the door and reported that Mr. Roger only stayed 20 minutes and then transitioned out of the room. Livi was happy the rest of the day complete with eating at the table and participating in playtime and crafts. Today at drop off she again leaped into Mr. Roger's arms with no crying. Ms. Director summed it by saying in all my years of doing this I have never seen anything quite like it. I turned on my heels and said, "Yes, Olivia can be a complicated woman."
Oh, and the Muffin Man is out for the day on business. So there is no chatter from his downstairs office. Despite my pleas for him to use his headset..he still insists on gracing the entire house with his booming voice while talking widgets. When Liv starts speaking in sentences I'm sure she will be selling tools to reps. from Kansas City quoting pricing increases and forecasting trends.
There you have it, that leaves me...on the cul-de-sac in my state of quiet rumbling from room to room picking up shoes. For another hour. Until I start the process of picking up little people to come home and litter my floors with shoes and crackers.
Excuse me while I go get some quiet food. I want nothing that crunches to ruin the quiet. I'll sit in a chair alone, with no one using my legs as their launching pad to sit on top of errr...I mean next to me. I think I will choose the chair that is next to the ticking clock and count my 53 more alone quiet minutes.
Ava is at school, perhaps on a field trip perhaps not. Picking pumpkins in a mid-western corn/pumpkin field in the rain does not sound like a smashing good time to me...but hey, perhaps her 21 year old teacher is more energetic and saw fit to let the 15 kindergarteners hop the bus to pumpkinville. Is it evil of me to secretly pat myself on the back for declining to chaperone that one?
Liv is at mom's morning out/preschool. Yes, we continued and last week she turned a huge corner in the "preschool is not infact hell" saga. When I casually explained to the director, as we were about to quit, that if only there was a male teacher perhaps she would transition easier.
For whatever reason, Liv is not too terribly keen on new women she meets but honestly hasn't seen too many men she doesn't instantly fall in love with. Yes, I've repeatedly asked her pediatrician and a developmental therapist about this quirk and they do not seem to think it implies an attachment disorder for which we could later regret not seeking treatment for. I hope they are right.
Ms. Director quickly perked up and said, "Well, with your permission I could bring Mr. Roger in the room." Mr. Roger is a retired police chief who works at the church doing music ministry for children. He has a special needs daughter and has a special place in his heart for little kids. I quickly said let's give it a shot. Last week when we arrived at preschool there was Mr. Roger, a white haired gentleman in a tie. He wears a tie to preschool. With her two female teachers and the director watching from behind Liv jumped out of my arms into the strange Mr. Roger's lap. I shook my head and sighed. She wimpered a bit as I left but when I picked her up there was a glowing report, everyone, including my little Olivia was all smiles. Ms. Director met me at the door and reported that Mr. Roger only stayed 20 minutes and then transitioned out of the room. Livi was happy the rest of the day complete with eating at the table and participating in playtime and crafts. Today at drop off she again leaped into Mr. Roger's arms with no crying. Ms. Director summed it by saying in all my years of doing this I have never seen anything quite like it. I turned on my heels and said, "Yes, Olivia can be a complicated woman."
Oh, and the Muffin Man is out for the day on business. So there is no chatter from his downstairs office. Despite my pleas for him to use his headset..he still insists on gracing the entire house with his booming voice while talking widgets. When Liv starts speaking in sentences I'm sure she will be selling tools to reps. from Kansas City quoting pricing increases and forecasting trends.
There you have it, that leaves me...on the cul-de-sac in my state of quiet rumbling from room to room picking up shoes. For another hour. Until I start the process of picking up little people to come home and litter my floors with shoes and crackers.
Excuse me while I go get some quiet food. I want nothing that crunches to ruin the quiet. I'll sit in a chair alone, with no one using my legs as their launching pad to sit on top of errr...I mean next to me. I think I will choose the chair that is next to the ticking clock and count my 53 more alone quiet minutes.
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