Maggie Makes Four!

Reading

2012-01-05T23:48:00.000-08:00

La Nina's lack of interest in reading has always worried me. Mostly, because I'm such a reader. She's always been resistant to reading. We've tried everything from bribes to buying whatever books she wants to family reading time where we all read together. The money didn't interest her, the books I bought gathered dust and she kept trying to make small talk while everyone else read. I've tried fiction, non-fiction, graphics, fantasy, nothing really worked. Ok, the Fairy Dance series books worked...but I have a hard time counting those. She's obsessed with dance.

This summer I started worrying that may be she was having some trouble with reading. The schools hadn't reported anything, her test scores were good, but I just couldn't figure it out her reluctance and it seemed a plausible explanation. I tried reading aloud with her and everything seemed fine. We'd read a chapter in a book, she'd remember the chapter and understand it the next day, but still if I wasn't reading the chapter with her she just wouldn't read the next chapter on her own, no matter what.

When I brought up my concerns to the Dad, he informed me I was "a dork" as a kid and most kids didn't read as obsessively as I did. To which I informed him, most kids don't watch as much TV as he did as a kid So who was really the "dork"? I digress.

When we went to her parent/teacher/student conference this fall, I brought up my concerns to her very surprised teacher. He informed me she was in the enrichment reading group (one of the highest) and was surprised to hear about her reluctance at home. After this conversation, I dropped the whole reading topic. Why was I obsessing if she wasn't struggling? Some people don't like to read as much as others, may be she was one of them. Even though by the time I was in 4th grade I had read the entire Laura Ingalls Wilder series and goodness knows how many Nancy Drew's on my own, people are different.

Then, yesterday I caught her reading a book in her room. I was stunned. Pleasantly, stunned, but stunned none the less. She finished that 250 page book tonight and asked me to take her to the book store tomorrow to get the next in the series. Oh happy day!

I asked her why she picked up a book yesterday, and here's what she told me. It explained the whole reluctance. Remember she's still on her Christmas break from school. At school, she always finishes her work early and when she does that, she's told to read. By the time she gets home from school, she's been reading on and off all day and she's sick of reading. She said she usually takes books from home to read (news to me) and that she's read most of the books in her room. Then she handed me a pile of used books. Probably about 15 that she's read since the start of school this year. Why is the mother is always the last to know?

Needless to say, I will happily take her to the bookstore tomorrow. And God Bless the Diary of a Wimpy Kid series. It's not the first book she's read, but it's the one I figured out she actually does like to read.

Sew Simple

2012-01-03T19:46:00.001-08:00

If you asked my mom one of her great failings as my mother, she would tell you it was that I never learned to sew. She tried to teach me, but I didn't have the attention span or the interest to apply myself and learn. I remember attempting to make a skirt, sewing the panels on backwards, then chucking the whole thing into the laundry room just in time to head out to soccer practice. I knew I'd never wear that thing anyway.

However, redemption comes in many forms and my mother's redemption came in the form of the Magster. She's the interested, eager and willing student I never was. Her and my Mom have already collaborated successfully on many pillow projects. And the Magster just loves to create all sorts of things with fabric at grandma's house. Animals, pillows, pouches, purses...you name it, Maggie will create it.. as long as she's at her grandmother's house...

So, for Christmas, the Dad and I bought the girls a sewing machine of their own. To keep here. So, Maggie could sew all the time. WoW! What was I thinking. I don't know how to sew. It took me 2 mornings just to get the thing threaded, then the Magster broke a needle and it took me another couple of hours to get the needle changed. So, many hours into this gift and many "How To" videos on YouTube later we have a functional sewing machine. Yet, that doesn't mean I can sew.

As part of the gift, I got a couple of patterns, thinking the Magster and I could tackle learning to sew together. These patterns were titled "Sew Simple". It reads "one easy project" right on the packaging. Those people are liars. Simple involves 18 steps. 11 cut outs. Appliques and something that involves paper backed webbing,. I don't even know what this is. Just reading the directions required several forays on google, trying to figure out what words mean. I couldn't figure out how to cut out the pieces of the fabric without calling my Mom. UGH!

So, while my Mom relishes her moments of "I-told-you-you'd-need-sew", I'm putting together a basket for Maggie to take to her house tomorrow. If it's so darn easy to sew, maybe she can figure it these projects. And while you're at it, Mom, can you take Maggie to the fabric store for whatever that backing stuff is? I'm at a loss.

A New Form of Retaliation

2011-12-19T21:37:00.000-08:00

One night recently, when the girls were about to get into the shower, La Nina came running into the kitchen screaming with laughter that she'd been "snotted" by her sister.

Snotted? I'd never heard of that before, so I asked for an explanation. La Nina looked at me as if I were dense and said, "Mom, she blew snot on me."

This was disturbing on so many levels. Okay, first, it's just disgusting. Second, La Nina had been about to get into the shower, so wasn't exactly dressed when the alleged incident occurred and finally, and most disturbing, the act had occurred so many times she had a verb to describe it.

As I was absorbing this information, the Magster came running into the kitchen, also screaming laughing that it wasn't her fault. La Nina had provoked her by farting on her.

Now what's a mother to do? Child #1 farts on child #2 and child #2 snots in retaliation. Again, while I was lost in thought as to how to handle this situation, the Magster pointed out that she didn't hit her sister, therefore, had done nothing wrong. She never admitted to actually snotting her sister, but then again, the Magster will deny, deny, deny, no matter how damning the evidence. Let's just say, her sister had proof that indeed a snotting had occurred.

Since there was bodily fluid involved I sent them both to the shower. La Nina really needed a shower and the Magster had most likely been farted on, so she wasn't in much better shape than her sister. Unable to address the issue with a straight face, I dropped the issue for the night. I mean really, how am I supposed to discuss this without crying from laughter?

The next morning, I asked the Magster if she ever snotted her sister. To which, she nodded her head with a gleam in her eye. A satanic gleam. A gleam that said, "oh yeah, and what are you going to do about it, old lady?" To which, I answered, "Never do that to anyone but your sister and only when she farts on you."

To La Nina I said, "Stop farting on your sister or you will get snotted."

This is what parenting has come to in my house. Snotting is fair retaliation for farting. I never thought I'd stoop to this level with daughters. Yet here I am.

Swankville

2011-12-11T21:55:00.000-08:00

If you live any where in a 15-mile radius of where I live you have no doubt heard of the book, Tales from Swankville. It’s a fictionalized account of raising kids in the exact same city where I happen to live. Thanks to some over zealous critics of this book, the publicity surrounding the book has driven it to must-read status for every mother in Swankville.

The fact I just finished it makes me extremely behind the times. About a month ago, there wasn’t a mother in town who wasn’t reading the book, talking about the book, stressing that they were in the book. But for a lot of reasons, including Thanksgiving, the end of the soccer season and our annual Nutcracker chaos, I just finished it tonight…very unswanky of me, according to the book. Of course, I simply must comment.

A disclaimer: I know who the writer is. I don’t know her by name, but when I saw her picture in the paper I realized her daughters used to dance at the same studio mine does before she moved on to another studio. I remember her being a very committed dance mom, much more committed than I. She was always there, where for my sanity, I drop and run. Perhaps I have some bias based on seeing her around.

My overall read on the book: Are you kidding me? That’s it? Am I missing something? The book is a series of blog posts about competitive parenting and other random thoughts on people who live in this town. Is there competitive parenting in this city? Yep. Is it as bad as the writer describes? Nope. I have two kids in competitive activities. I’ve seen some sh*t, but I don’t believe it’s any worse here than anywhere else. “Here” being an upper class suburb that offers kids an amazing array of activities all of which can become extremely competitive at any given time and parents who are competitive enough to have found a way to earn enough money to buy a home in Swankville. People who live here are fundamentally competitive or they wouldn't live here. It's just a fact.

The thing is everything, every comment, every look seems to phase this woman. Comments other moms make don’t reduce me to tears. I find most overt competitiveness amusing, some annoying, some really crazy. I find some it really sad for the kids. Yet, I feel no desire to move out of state because of it. Do I come home and tell tales of dance mom’s misbehaving? Yep. Do I see parents who keep their kids in an activity that clearly makes the kid miserable? Yep. Do I see kids who compete in 2-3 activities at a time? Yep. While I really hope, I’m not one of those misbehaving moms, and believe me, if either of my kids complains about an activity, I beg them to quit. (They refuse, darn it.) I really can’t say much about overlapping activities as the Magster is pretty busy every October when soccer and basketball overlap. It would be insincere of me to claim to keep my kids to one activity at a time. But I try to keep those over laps to a minimum and if my kids need a mental health day off, they take it.

Is competitive parenting an important issue? It is, but this book is long on pointing it out and very short on offering solutions. At the end of the day, should you read this book? It’s not very well written. It doesn’t really hang together and the writer spends an awful lot of time patting herself on the back. If you’re dying to know what the scuttle is about, don’t spend the $9 on the paperback. It isn’t worth it. It’s barely worth the kindle cost. Call me, I’ll loan you my copy.

Maybe I need to pay closer attention...

2011-09-17T16:43:00.000-07:00

I'm driving in my typical distracted mother mode. You know the mode: kid in the car, radio on, mind on the laundry, the messy kitchen, the grocery shopping list, etc. Suddenly a voice from the back seat.

"Mom, don't you think this song is inappropriate for me to listen to?"

Suddenly I tune into the radio as Katy Perry sings, "Last Friday night..." Have you heard the song? I can't remember the exact lyric, but skinning dipping after dark, warrants out for arrest, not remembering if they kissed are all part of the lyrics. Now, I'm considering the fact LaNina is now telling me about songs that she shouldn't to.

Trying to cover myself, I answered, "Oh, can you hear that? I thought the volume was pretty low." I turn the volume down farther. But of course the truth is I wasn't paying any attention to the radio.

"Mom, of course, I can hear it."

"How do you know it's inappropriate?" I ask out of curiosity, because really how bad is it when my 9 year old is pointing out things like this to me?

In her best pre-teen snear she answers, "I'm not stupid. The songs about a girl who drank too much alcohol, got kicked out of a bar and did some bad things."

Okay then. I guess she's figured out a lot more than I give her credit for. And how many times has she heard that song anyways?

Where were you when you heard?

2011-09-11T20:21:00.000-07:00

When you hear the question these days, you know exactly what they’re really asking. Where were you 10 years ago when our world changed? Where were you when the unexplainable happened? Where were you when planes rammed into buildings and the towers fell?

It’s hard for me to believe that it’s been 10 years since that horrific day. Like so many Americans, I’m still trying to understand it. I watched the terror unfold on television. I didn’t move for a good three hours once I started watching. Going to work felt moot, so I didn’t. Neither did anybody else. I just stood at the end of my bed and watched, chin open, eyes not believing what I was seeing.

I remember thinking, “Why today? It’s just a Tuesday An ordinary Tuesday. It looks like a nice, sunny Tuesday in New York. Why today?” By the way, I didn't have to look up the day of the week. I remember that. I remember thinking how quiet it was with no planes in the sky. I remember wanting to wrap myself in an American flag and cry for my country.

For my generation, 9/11 is the moment that Kennedy’s assassination was for my parents’ generation and Pearl Harbor was for my grandparents. As someone born a few years after Kennedy was shot, I never really understood why my folks talked about where they were when they heard about Kennedy until 9/11. I never understood why they always mentioned it on my Aunt’s birthday until 9/11. For me, Kennedy’s death remains the part of a movie when everyone cried and I could only look around and wonder why. 9/11 will be like that for my kids, I suppose. It’s a part of history they’ll never really understand on an emotional level.

I’m a West Coast girl. I’ve been to New York, but only on business. I’ve seen the airports, a couple hotels, a couple of meeting rooms and that’s about it. Never been to the Statue of Liberty, Central Park or the Empire State Building. I don’t know anyone who died on 9/11, but it doesn’t change the loss I felt that day and still feel watching the old clips. So sad so many innocent people died. So sad it was all so senseless. So sad the victims never knew the loss the nation felt at their passing.

I don’t know that I’ll do anything special today. My friend who is a pilot will be flying. So, I’ll say more than a few prayers for her. If I see a firefighter, I’ll probably thank him. It’s a symbolic gesture at best, but that doesn’t mean it’s not the most heartfelt thing I can do.

Top 10 Things The Dad Can Do When He Starts Driving Again

2011-09-05T20:08:00.000-07:00

Many of you know that for the past 11 months the Dad has not been able to drive. And let me tell you, I've been keeping a mental list of all the things he can do when he starts driving again. Here's my top ten:

10. Make all late night store runs for milk.

9. Drive the dance carpool 4 times a week.

8. Park anywhere he likes without my commenting on what a horrible parking spot he selected.

7. Take the kids to school...every.single.morning.

6. Figure out where soccer practice is, then drive there. It's a moving target.

5. Fight to get the kids ready to go anywhere on time (except dance...La Nina is always ready for dance.)

4. Be the designated driver for any social event.

3. Take himself shopping for new clothes.

2. Leave the house with the kids so I can be home alone. Think about it. It's been a year.

1. Repay the year's worth of bad kids movies I've seen because "You have to drive anyways."

Let's hope this chapter in our lives is getting close to behind us. I'm very ready to have another driver in the house.

Unfavorite Visitors

2011-06-23T16:46:00.000-07:00

Every year, for the past 10 years, the Dad has hosted a charity golf event at a local country club. This event has raised 10s of thousands of dollars for the local hospital cancer research group. This year is no different. As he has done in the past, he's hosting a golf tournament in the same venue, at the same time of the year, for the same cause. Oh, but this year is different, because the country club is involved in a labor dispute and has locked out its union. That has left our family at the mercy of the unions.

I was raised in a union household. I had health care, braces, an education all because of a union. So to be privately attacked by a union is shocking. Attacked a strong word? Here are the things that have happened in the last month.

1.) Every hour for an entire day the union called our house to "encourage" the Dad to move his golf tournament.

2.) The union printed and past out fliers with our home phone number on them encouraging their members to call us at home and pressure "the Dad" to move the golf tournament.

3.) They've shown up on our door step to pleasantly ask the dad to move the tournament.

However, we teach our kids not to bow to bullies and neither will he. It's awful that grown men and women are so willing to try to intimidate people raising money for charity with these tactics. They should be ashamed of themselves. No matter what their beef with their employer it has nothing to do with us, so why are we getting drug into it?

The kids now know: the front door is to be locked at all times. We prefer they play in the back yard until the golf tournament is over. We don't answer the phone if we don't know who it is (unless Mommy is in the mood to do a acting.) :) Let's just say, the years of unsuccessfully trying to cancel my husband's Playboy subscription came in mighty handy to stop those phone calls.

I wish my kids didn't have to learn these lessons, but at the same time, I'm very glad they learned we don't give into bullies. And if those Union thugs show up on our door steps again, I may just have to really go all out in my acting. I can act CRAZY really good.

Learning New Words

2011-05-29T08:49:00.000-07:00

There have been some new words floating around school, and the girls have been "experimenting" with them.

Last week the word was "constipation". The girls were using it in a song, rhyme thing they were singing and when I asked them what it meant, it was clear they had no clue. So, of course, this led us into a discussion regarding it's definition. Both girls got a funny look on their face when I explained it and sort of dropped the subject. Until it was time to use the word, now everyone seems to have it. Yep, "constipation". We're constipated morning, noon and night here. Under normal conditions, this amount of constipation could require medical intervention. Luckily, the "situations" seem to be resolving themselves very quickly once they've used the word.

While we're still bantering about last week's word, a new word came home yesterday. La Nina had heard the word at school. "Hore", she was pretty sure it was short for horrible and therefore, really not a bad word at all. And I'll be darned if she didn't have a "hore" day because she was constipated.

However, she and her friend tried to look it up in the dictionary, but you know, they just couldn't find it. She was a bit confused about why she couldn't find this new word under "h", so she thought she better ask the Dad about it. He wisely advised her it wasn't a nice word or a short version of "horrible" and she shouldn't be using it. But this didn't really answer her question as to why it wasn't in the dictionary.

Next she hit me up and asked why it wasn't in the dictionary. Note: not what it meant, not if it was bad, just why she couldn't find it. So, I answered the question. I pointed out that in English there are some letters that are silent in front of "h" and that could change the spelling. Either way, "hore" was not a good word and she should never use it even if she found it in a dictionary somewhere. (Following all the parenting advice I've ever received, I only answered what I was asked and I wasn't asked for a definition...whew!)

Now, of course, I'm walking on eggshells and I'm trying to figure out how to explain "prostitute" when she finds that word in a dictionary defining whore.

Running the Child: Session 1

2011-05-10T21:49:00.000-07:00

For those of you who have met the Magster, it will come as no surprise that she has an issue with excess energy. She's a bit like a puppy. She needs to be run. So, really, for her, sports like soccer and basketball are perfect They wear her out. But this isn't soccer or basketball season, and let me tell you, we made it one week without soccer. Between her little high pitched voice and over enthusiastic helping, it's time to make sure this child gets her "run".

So, tonight, while La Nina was at dance, I decided I would take my puppy for a hike. I actually gave her a couple of choices: running on a track, riding bikes at a park near our house, hiking up the ridge. She chose to hike up the ridge. For those not from the area, the ridge is fairly steep incline and it goes for miles. Our goal was to make it to the first gate, about an hour round trip hike.

When she jogged up the steep first part, we took the steeper of two paths up the hill. I walked at a fairly normal pace up the hill and she kept pace with no problem. About half way up the hill, I broke a sweat. She did not. About three-quarters of the way up the hill, I was huffing and puffing, she was not. When we had a choice about continuing to the top to get to the first gate or heading down the hill, she chose to keep going. She was terribly offended when anyone passed us on the trail and at one point, told me I needed to hurry to catch the people in front of us.

She made it to the first gate in about 23 minutes and her only regret was that we had to head down to go pick up her sister. I promised her we would take some time and hike to the second gate on a weekend in the near future.

The good news is she was nice and mellow when we came home and she wants to go up the ridge again. In fact, she's hoping we can do it soon. I hope I can keep up.

Life Lessons in Dance

2011-05-05T17:52:00.000-07:00

La Nina wrapped up her 4th competitive dance season this past weekend. It's been a good year for her. Her groups have generally done very well and while the dances get harder every year, she always rises to the challenge and performs beautifully.

This year was her first year competing in a style of dance called, Lyrical. It's a cross between ballet and jazz. I think it looks like contemporary, though I'm sure many dance experts would scoff at my untrained eye. For young dancers, when you're cast in a lyrical piece, it's a sure sign you're growing up and being viewed as "a big girl" by your studio. I don't think studios see it that way, but I know at least one young dancer who does. Her group danced to the Rob Thomas song, Little Wonders, a personal favorite song of mine and a lovely piece of music with a great message.

Lyrical is a tough style of dance. The judges are demanding. Toes need to be pointed. Shoulders need to be relaxed. Movement needs to be fluid. Tough, tough, tough when you're going slow and every goof up can be spotted easily. Her trio of two 8 year olds and one 9 year old saw very little success in terms of scoring. This dance was consistently her lowest scoring piece and deservedly so on more than one occasion, which brings us to last weekend.

When the Little Wonders took the stage, they performed well for the first 1/2 of the dance, then tragedy struck...they lost music. And what do you suppose those dancers did? Well, like the professionals they are, they kept dancing, keeping time in their heads and keeping an eye on each other to ensure they stayed together. It was just an amazing thing to see these little girls carry on to the cheers of their mothers and really nothing else. I was so proud of them.

Backstage, I asked La Nina how she knew to do that. Had her teachers told her if they lost music to keep going? No, she said. She saw her friends kept going and she didn't want to let them down, so she just watched them and imagined the music in her head. What a great answer.

My biggest concern about her choosing dance over sports has been that she's missing the team experience, but last weekend changed my mind completely. I finally saw team work truly happen in the realm of dance. Her answer proved to me she had learned her lessons about team work well.

Now, wouldn't you think that this mishap and professionalism would help them out in scoring? Well, you'd be wrong. Dancers are expected to continue and not react to unfortunate happenings on stage. They did only what was expected and were scored appropriately. But somehow I think the life lesson they learned facing that challenge is worth a lot more than any scoring award. Personally, Friday's High Silver will be the performance I remember most vividly from this season.

The picture above was taken during the performance of Little Wonders. It was snapped before the a cappella portion of the dance started.

Slumber Parties

2011-04-24T22:21:00.000-07:00

On Friday night, we wrapped up La Nina's 1 1/2 birthday celebration with a slumber party. For those unfamiliar with the event, it's when 8-10 girls sleep over at one girl's house. There's lots of squealing, screaming, running and talking. There's food and drinks and movies. And lots more talking. Most of you know what I'm talking about. But some do not. The reason I know this is the Dad really had no idea what a slumber party was until it started at our house.

Sure, he went to sleep overs as a child, but he'd never quite seen or heard anything like this. At first, he braved the party. He helped serve dinner. He poured beverages. He may have even cleared a couple of plates. Then, I lost him. He just disappeared. And I swear, I couldn't find him. I looked in the office, I looked in the bedroom, I checked the garage...nothing.

I was too busy keeping track of kids to worry about him, so I sort of forgot about him. About 10:30, I headed to the back of the house to begin the falling asleep ritual so crucial to the success of any slumber party. It's the part when I, the mother, tell the kids to be quiet and go to sleep. The kids ignore me, as expected. And the games really begin. I found the Dad huddled in the bedroom and his eyes widened when I walked into the room. I've never seen him so frightened in all my life.

"What happens now?" he asked.

"They don't go to sleep," I answered. "It the best part of the party. I tell them to be quiet, they ignore me. Then I tell them again, they ignore me. This could go on for hours."

He looked bewildered. He looked confused. He looked hopelessly male. "Why?" he asked.

"Because this is what happens at slumber parties," I answered. I swear, did this man not have a childhood.

The ritual began: I sternly warned, the kids ignored, I sternly warned, they ignored. Finally, they quieted down and I fell asleep. In the end, the party went great. All the kids agreed it was fun. And we actually got more than 6 hours sleep. La Nina's birthday is finally over, and I finally know the one thing that truly scares my husband: the dreaded slumber party.

Science Fair

2011-03-27T21:42:00.000-07:00

For the first time, we have not one, but two entries in the school's science fair. For La Nina, this was required. All third graders at our school must complete a science fair project. For the Magster, it was optional, but since she must keep up with her sister, I suppose it was a requirement for her too. Both girls worked on the project with partners. Both girls did a great job on their projects. And both teams of girls required a lot of help to make this happen.

First, they had to pick a topic. La Nina greeted every conversation about a topic with a shoulder shrug. We looked online for ideas, we visited a science family night at the school, nothing appealed to her. Then one day, I asked a woman at work for ideas and she had a winner: How does the sugar content of gum affect bubble size? La Nina signed on immediately for the project involving gum chewing. For the Magster, the topic was easy. She and her partner decided seals were cute, harp seals were the cutest and therefore, their project would be about the life cycle of harp seals.

The Magster and her partner set a schedule for their work sessions. They researched one session, they wrote and translated in the next session and in the final session they assembled their board. La Nina and her partner had a plan too: chew gum and blow bubbles. That was it. Thankfully, the other mother focused them and helped them figured out a measurement method. They had a writing session and an assembly session too. And once they got started they were fine. Both teams spent about 8 hours of work on their projects. (This does include breaks for play, though the seal girls required less focusing than the gum girls, but the seal girls had less sugar than the gum girls.)

Here's my thing: There is no way kids can do these sort of projects without serious parental intervention. Trust me, the Magster and her partner far exceeded my expectations of what a couple of second graders to pull off on their own. They did almost all of their own research. The only thing I helped with was avoiding images of the harp seal slaughter- though they did learn all about it. They did all their own writing and most of their translations even the native spanish speaking dad didn't know how to say a few scientific words in Spanish. But how can third graders, ask a question, identify a method, create a hypothesis, record results and draw conclusions without an adult saying "you know, I'm not sure you can conclude more sugar is always better from those results." Yet, the third graders translated every word of their work into Spanish, so they should be proud too. But in the end, who's project was it?

Well, let's just say this: In two minutes of chewing, sugarless gum yields larger bubbles than regular gum and the population of harp seals has rebounded dramatically in the last decade due to governmental restriction on hunting. I swear, those weren't my science projects. But me and the other moms were sure happy when they wrapped up their work.

The School Lunch Menu

2011-03-15T20:55:00.000-07:00

As a working mom, the best deal in town is the school lunch. For $3 a day, I can feed the kids a hot lunch that I don't have to pack. The kids generally like it, but lately, La Nina has been bustling about the kitchen in the morning making her own lunch. (See what happens when kids figure out their mother isn't going to do something for them? INDEPENDENCE! A good thing.)

Anyhoo, I asked why the sudden interest in "taking" and here's the answer.

"Because on Wednesday's the pizza is only yarn and cardboard," she answered.

I tried to reason: They aren't serving kids yarn and cardboard, but she insisted...yarn and cardboard was on the menu.

The reality of this answer is amusing. Wednesday's is Revolution Food day, the day each week, that the school brings in organic, whole grain, healthy fare to nourish the bodies of their young charges. Apparently, all that health food isn't cutting the mustard on taste. According to my young eater, the pizza crust is dry, the cheese doesn't taste quite right and the sauce is bland. So Oprah, you may have featured this menu on your show, but I think you needed to convince some average kids to eat it. My average kid is opting out, taking a peanut butter sandwich, apples and crackers. At least it isn't yarn and card board.

A Story of Contrasts

2011-03-07T21:23:00.000-08:00

La Nina and I spent the weekend at a dance convention. That means dancing 16 hours in two days for La Nina and a lot of sitting around and holding shoes for me. This weekend the dancers were sharing the space with another group of kids: the kids competing in the National Chess Finals. And let's just say, dancers and chess players mix like, well, let's just say they don't really mix. Here's why:

Dancers dress in the skimpiest clothes their mothers will allow. Dancers regularly walk around barefoot in a metallic green bikini with spiked hair, full of glitter. Chess players wear solid colored-long sleeve, collared shirts, sensible shoes and thick glasses. While the little boy chess players are rather fascinated by the boisterous dancers, the mothers of chess players are not so impressed and regularly steer their little prodigies as far from the dancers as possible.

Dancers travel in packs of 3-6, if they're over 7 they refuse to be seen much with their mothers and typically can be heard long before they are seen, which is something when you consider on how they're dressed. Chess players travel alone, usually with their mothers and are so quiet that they typically go unnoticed until a dancer leaps or spins into one on the way to the lunch line. Even though the leaping and turning dancer has flattened the poor chess player who was only waiting patiently for his lunch, somehow the dancer is offended and is the only person complaining when in fact the poor, little chess player is the one who was knocked down.

Chess players sit quietly with their mothers during lunch. They put their napkins in their laps, they use silver ware and they never use their chair as a prop to show their friend how to "pliè". The chess players eat about a 1/3 of their lunch and spend the rest of their break resting. Dancers eat like starving wolves. They consume a sandwich, their mother's salad, a cookie, chips and possibly a water or soda in about 5 minutes. Then they jump up and begin spinning, leaping and begging their mothers to go back into the practice room, because they really, really want to work on their turns.

The mothers of chess players look on in horror at the scene being caused by the dancers in the lunch room, because really, it's quite chaotic. Kids are leaping, turning, running in and out in packs and occasionally doing all of the above in perfect unison. The mothers of dancers look longing at the little chess players and wish they could spend some time in a quiet room filled with little boys moving pawns, rooks, queens and kings around a checkered board. Then the mothers of dancers realize the mothers of the chess players look just as tired as they do, and they pick up their lunch dishes and go back to the practice room.

30 things I can't do while I'm in the shower

2011-02-27T18:07:00.001-08:00

For years now, my showers have been a public event. If I want privacy while showering, I have to go to the gym. In my house, when I step in the warm spray, it's like the kids hear the theme song for "Phineas and Ferb". They come running to see the spectacle. I've tried locking the door. They actually walked into the yard and entered through the slider. They've also staged sit ins outside the locked door. So, I'm hoping to clarify exactly what I can not do while I'm in the shower in order to gain a shred of privacy and may be a little peace and quiet too.

I cannot:

1.) Brush your hair

2.) Open the tooth paste

3.) Make your breakfast

4.) Find your missing soccer sock. (By the way, the game isn't for several hours.)

5.) Tell you where Thomas Jefferson graduated from college or how many children he had

6.) Time your reading

7.) Help you conjugate verbs

8.) Get the new tights out of your dresser

9.) Spell check your email to your friend

10.) Find your missing tap shoe

11.) Change the channel on the television

12.) Remove the parental controls on the television, even if it is a show you're allowed to watch

13.) Reach a water for you to take to school

14.) Read the school lunch menu, which is hung conveniently where you can read it yourself

15.) Find your library book, when I didn't even know you had a library book

16.) Help you trim your toe nails

17.) Find hair ties

18.) Find your back pack

19.) Find your bootie shorts

20.) Make brownies for pulga

21.) Explain why it doesn't snow here

22.) Explain why Santa doesn't visit Jewish kids

23.) Explain why the tooth fairy sometimes forgets you lost a tooth

24.) Explain why "Susie" tooth fairy brings $5 per tooth and yours only brings $1

25.) Tell you what People magazine means when it says "It's Over" next to Taylor Swift and some guy

26.) Tell you why the lady in people magazine wears a dress that almost shows her privates

27.) Explain you why you shouldn't be reading People magazine.

28.) Change the cookies I put in your lunch for goldfish

29.) Cut the crusts off your peanut butter sandwich

30.) Stitch the piece of elastic onto your hat for dance, when I never even knew you had a piece of elastic that needed to be stitched on by today

Finally, I'll never understand why you are bugging me while I'm in the shower when your father is sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper and sipping coffee in complete quiet. He is completely capable of covering all of the items above.

A Rare Happening

2011-02-22T21:26:00.000-08:00

This has been a strange couple of days. Both kids are sick at once. Both are running fevers. Both are complaining of headaches. Both are complaining of sore throats. It's not odd to have sick kids this year, but to have two kids sick at exactly the same time, odd.

Then today, it's all explained: 11 out of 25 kids in their class stayed home sick. Obviously, the whole room full of kids caught some nasty bug at once, not just mine. But this has led us to discovered an unexpected aspect of having kids in the same class: they get sick on the same schedule. Whodathunk?

It's not completely inconvenient. 1.) I made one appointment with the doctor for the both of them. She was happy to combine appointments. It saves us both time. 2.) It condenses the overall time of people being sick in the house thus reducing the amount of time the Dad and I have to juggle the coverage of sick kids. 3.) Cuts down on trips to the pharmacy. However, this does not mean it cuts down on the number of meds purchase, just the number of trips to buy meds. If only they could agree on one type of fever reducer. (La Nina likes grape, the Magster is a fan of bubble gum flavors.)

Dual illnesses also sort of complicates the whole getting up in the middle of the night. Let's say you are up with one and check the other one and discover the sleeper is burning up with a fever. Do you wake up the sleeper to take their temperature? I did, and then had an energetic Magster awake for an hour and a half from 3am to 4:30am. Bad move. I should have known better with that child. Never wake a sleeping Magster. I learned that lesson in China, what was I thinking?

Then, there's also the whole thermometer dilemma. I swipe it on one kid, I swipe it on the next kid. It's 3 in the morning. By the time I'm done with the second kid, I can't remember what it said for the first kid and she's already back to sleep. Do I go back and swipe again and risk a bitter angry La Nina or just console myself that it was over 101? I chose just go with assumption she had a pretty high fever and skip retaking her temperature. I already had the spunky Magster wide awake, no need to add to the middle of the night party.

If this whole thing follows the same path as the kids that were sick last week, someone will have strep (my money's on La Nina) hopefully not both of them. Both will run fevers for 4 days. We're on day 2-3. So, the kids will be back in school by Thursday or Friday. And hopefully, I'll figure out how to manage the midnight nursing duties a little more efficiently.

The Rest of the Story

2011-02-11T22:53:00.000-08:00

I’m sure there are many people reading this and worried about what I’m going to write. My blog post on the grant at my school raised a few eyebrows and tonight I’m going to write, as Paul Harvey would say, the rest of the story.

Last Friday, the principal and district officials were generous enough with their time to meet with me regarding my concerns on the grant. Given we were never going to agree on the intent of the grant, I asked them questions about the process used to select how the grant would be used and how exactly the implementation would be executed.

Everyone I met with concurred that no alternatives to a “pilot” smart classroom were considered. At one point, someone said that no alternatives were offered, but none were solicited. The grant’s dispensation strategy was never reviewed with staff or parents in a discussion format before it was decided and therefore, no one knew alternatives could be offered. No one can say why this is the best alternative for our school. No one can say why dividing the grant 60% into one class and 40% to the rest of the school is the optimal spend split. Essentially, this decision has no strategy behind it.

The Smart Classroom has been dubbed a “pilot”. This means it’s the administration’s intent to roll this out to every classroom at our school. According to district officials, “pilots” need a champion and it would be too difficult to train multiple staff members on the use of this equipment in a shared environment. Therefore, it needs to be in a single classroom with a single champion.

I’ve run a couple of pilots in my day, and the power user scenario is often helpful. But I’ve also run pilots with multiple users and found this information very valuable. If the technology is too difficult to use for the average user, adoption rates are very low. Best to discover an adoption problem during a pilot phase rather than during implementation phase in my experience. Besides if the plan is to roll this out to all classrooms, shouldn’t as many teachers as possible use it to help support the roll out efforts?

“Pilots” in the business world are often used to prove an assumption. We can save so many dollars by making a change or we can make more money by doing it that way. You need to have before data and after data to prove these assumptions, and you need to be able to demonstrate something worked before budget is allotted for full implementation. At least this is my experience with pilots. When I asked about the “pilot” process in education, the answers were vague. The key educational benefit: interactivity, capturing kids at teachable moments. Applications? The technology could be used to assist in science lessons. Examples of lessons: no examples could be offered. There was a timeline, but no real methodology behind measuring success and no one supervising results outside of the grant recipient.

The next round of funding was another question mark for me. Corporations were one answer. We live in a wealthy suburb with schools that rank in the top 10% of the state (www.schooldigger.com). To implement smart classrooms in one school of 28 classrooms it would take about $420K. If a corporation had that much money to spend, do people honestly think they’d spend it in a district like ours? In my experience, corporations want to see big results for the dollars they spend. District like ours do not allow for big results. We’re already successful. The other answer I heard was the PTA. Our PTA is a dedicated group of individuals who do amazing things for our school, but even a city-wide fundraising campaign only raised $355K for ALL elementary schools last year. To assume a parent group can raise $400K is unfair to those dedicated parents that pour their heart and souls into our school community day in and day out.

Finally, no money was set aside to maintain this system or buy replacement parts. The school will be handing hand held devices to 6 year olds and expecting them not to break those devices. I have two very mellow daughters, and things get broken. I can’t imagine any hand-held devices will last long in a classroom setting with young kids. So, things are going to be broken and there will be no budget to replace them. That means the teacher will be hitting up parents or the PTA for money to maintain this pilot or it will become an expensive piece of classroom furniture within the next 18 months.

I’m a big fan of technology in the classroom. And I might be a big fan of Smart Technology at our school had this project been thought through. However, I can not support a project that is exclusionary with very little strategy behind it. In this case, the use of this grant is a big mistake. And sadly, no one in my meetings last week was willing to admit it or do anything to help correct it. And that’s the rest of the story.

Give that woman a raise

2011-02-02T20:34:00.000-08:00

We now return to our regular, dull editorial content. My detour into political blogging has now ended but I reserve the right to return to it at any time.

With the Dad's current condition hiring a nanny became critical to our ability to function as a family. I found a woman who fits well with our family and has become my right arm in making things happen and getting kids where they need to be. She's been with us for a couple of months now. Apparently, the honeymoon is over, because the other night the girls started complaining about her. Being a fair and open-minded parents, the Dad and I asked them for their complaints. Here's the list or a very fair representation of them:

1.) From both of them: She makes us do our homework right after we finish our snacks and she checks it. If it isn't right, she makes us do it again.

2.) From the Magster: She only lets me have 2 cookies after school. After that I have to eat fruit or cheese or something healthy.

3.) From La Nina: She gets mad at me if I take too long after school. She says it's rude to make her and Maggie wait for me.

4.) From both of them: She won't let us play with our DS's until we're done with our homework and have put away all our stuff.

This is where they stopped, because the Dad and I were laughing so hard we were crying. She makes them do their homework, she makes them eat healthy snacks and she forces La Nina to be considerate of others. Oh yeah, she's really awful. NOT! Sounds like we hired ourselves a good nanny and the kids are just going to have to cope.

The "Right" Thing

2011-01-29T21:24:00.000-08:00

Last fall, I heard about a great opportunity for my school. A local company was offering grants to teachers for their classrooms. The grants were for Science, Math, Education and Technology for up to $2000 per classroom. So, I helped my teacher complete her grant, then I went to the staff meeting at my school and explained the process to the other teachers. I made myself available to answer questions, I provided my grant request and I even submitted a grant or two on behalf of teachers.

The reason I did this is that the schools need the money but also there was an opportunity for a larger grant. If teacher's filled out their grant request correctly, then their grant could earn their school a $25,000 grant. In hard times, $25,000 goes a long ways at a school and what school doesn't need the money? I wanted my school to win that grant.

About 5 teachers received grants at my school and 1 of those grants became a semi-finalist for the school wide grant for $25,000. I was so excited. May be this could happen for our school, I thought. These bigger grants were to be awarded in only two counties, and the schools in our city are among the wealthiest in the area. But, our school has more than 25% of its students on the federal lunch program and receives Title 1 funding, so we were classified as having moderate poverty. In the grant world, this was huge. I crossed my fingers and sent all my good vibes to the grant selection committee. $25,000 would do so much for my school.

When the announcements came out great news: one of the grants from our school was selected as a winner and our school won $25,000.

Then, odd things started happening. I heard a rumor at school that the teacher who wrote the grant told everyone she wrote a grant for $25,000. The money was hers. This wasn't true. The grant she wrote was for $800. It was honored as a great idea and the school was awarded $25,000 because of her idea. She was NOT given $25,000. Then, I saw a congratulations sign the parents of her class had made. And noticeably absent was any real excitement around the school. What was going on? Then a friend, with a child in the class came by and when I asked him about the grant, he told me all about how the teacher was spending all the money in their class. When I told him the story of the grant, he was shocked and told me he'd keep his ears open.

I decided at that time to send a note of congratulations to the principal as well as a copy of the rules. Surely, he would see the light. Surely, he would reign in this teacher. Surely, "logic" would prevail. Time went on. And still no real news on the grant. Then, this week, there was news, big news.

The teacher had spent $15,000 in her classroom to create a "Smart Classroom", only $10,000 would go to the school. WHAT THE F***? I think literally those were my words (without the stars). This meant only 25 kids would benefit from something that could have touched 700. If you want a smart class, why not put it in the science room where every kid could take advantage of it? Why would you send $600 per child on 25 kids and less than $15 a child on everyone else? Do first graders really need a smart classroom when they are only learning to read? Was I missing something?

Terrified I was too late, I sent an email to the principal Tuesday night and asked for confirmation of the rumor. I also sent a note to the person who runs the grant program to find out exactly the rules.

It took two days for the principal to respond. But I heard from the company first. The company had decided school's could decide to spend the money in whatever way it chose. They were steadfast that they wouldn't get involved. If the school wanted to put the money in one classroom, it was at the principal's discretion. They would not get involved. (Rats!) And at the end of the second day, I heard from the principal that he fully supported the teacher's plan. I was sick. Truly sick.

I was depressed all Thursday night. How could one person manipulate a system so thoroughly to the detriment of so many kids? I thought teachers were supposed to care about kids. If she felt the need to be rewarded for her idea, I wouldn't have complained about $2,500 (10% of the total), but 60%? I was back to cussing when I thought about it. What a waste. I mean, really a senseless waste.

I went to breakfast with my friends yesterday morning and told them the story. They were shocked. Here we were, 4 parents who are involved in our school and I was the only one who knew anything about the grant and its misappropriation. One of these friends encouraged me to call the School District Office, but I was so sick I wasn't sure I could do it.

I came home and the Dad started in on me. "You've got to call. Just see if it helps," he said. So, I placed the call. I spoke to someone who is very high up at the district. He graduated from high school a few years a head of me, so we're acquaintances...at best. Anyway, he knew nothing of the grant. (This is $25,000, isn't odd no one knows about this?) and he was quite surprised when I told him about the distribution scheme. He said he would look into it and get back to me.

I hung up and have heard nothing else. I may not. I was probably too late in my final hail mary phone call and I probably should have inserted myself into the process when the silence was so deafening. But I just kept thinking, the school would do the "right" thing. Unfortunately, sometimes when money is involved, people forget the "right" thing and greed takes over. I know this. I've learned this many times, and I don't know why I'm still caught off guard.

I've hung up my crusader guns for now. My kids still have 3 years at this school. A teacher who would manipulate a grant to her own benefit, is certainly capable of manipulating something else and making things miserable for my kids. So, I'm not making any more calls, and this blog post is the last I'll even mention of this incident publicly. But let me tell you, I'll never give another dime to the school's general fund. From now on, my contributions go to my kids' classrooms. I'll never again trust the school administration. And forget my vote for the property tax. There is no way. If a school can't be trusted with $25,000, how can I trust a school district with millions?

Note to readers: This entry has received a great deal of attention around school. I wrote it when I was extremely frustrated and have modified slightly to remove a portion that I felt uncomfortable having in the public forum. I never intended for this entry to be a character attack. However, an issue of character is at the heart of this matter and it needed to be addressed.

Tiger Mama??

2011-01-14T20:35:00.001-08:00

If you're a mom, you've probably read the Wall Street Journal article about Why Chinese Moms are Superior. I read this with great interest earlier in the week and have spent a lot of time talking about Amy Chua's parenting advice with other moms. First we all agree, Amy Chua is a brilliant marketer. She's started quite a debate, just before her parenting book comes out and we're all curious about what she has to say about parenting.

To that end, responses to her methods have varied. Some moms find her parenting theory really offensive. Kids need more of a soft touch than a kick in the butt, according to these moms. And really, kids are fragile. I've never viewed my kids as fragile. When I met my kids as babies, they were both quite spirited. And let's face it: both my kids survived for a year in a Chinese orphanage. Nothing fragile about a kid who can do that.

I found this essay interesting. My kids don't call the shots. The Dad and I are parents. They have firm bedtimes and rules around homework and screen time, television, computer and handheld devices. They are expected to be polite, say please and thank you and generally, act respectfully towards others. They do their homework nightly or we don't sign their organizers and they suffer the consequences. La Nina likes to test this one. We make them behave, but they are far from perfect. We're in charge, but we're giving them a lot of lee way.

We're letting our kids make decisions about their activities within reason. We're letting them decide how hard to study on optional school work. We've given them a voice in their causes from a very young age. And while I'm not sure that makes us liberal, I've always done this in order for them to feel okay about expressing their opinions and articulating their feelings in a respectful way. But may be this isn't always the best thing. So, I've been experimenting with a couple of concepts this week.

1.) Forcing a kid to do something they don't want to do for a purpose instills self-confidence. The poor Magster was my victim on this one. She has struggled to learn her times 3 multiplication table for months. She's a year ahead of herself in math, so I haven't worried about her lack of interest in learning her multiplication tables. But this week, I decided she was going to master the times 3. And let me tell you, she mastered her times 3 in one evening with a little Chinese mothering and 30 chocolate chips. Today she brought home her test with a 100%. She wasn't traumatized by me not letting her quit, and she was very happy she passed her test. I've already warned her, she'll learn her times 4 this week.

2.) Fun comes with hard work and achievement. La Nina got involved in this experiment. La Nina has been talking about taking next year off dance. I've been listening to her patiently and I've reached the conclusion she doesn't really want to quit. She just likes to talk about it. So, when she mentioned this the other night, I decided it was time to end her churn on this pointless conversation. As she stewed, I simply said. "You'll dance next year." She was appalled by my attitude. She demanded an explanation and all I said was, "You're going to dance because you'll have more fun doing that than anything else." She argued. She sulked. She told me I was mean. And after a few minutes of this, she agreed with me. There was no deep discussion. She accepted I was right. Again, Chinese Mothering, no worries about self esteem or letting her process. I just made the decision for her and ended the discussion. (Yes, I may regret this, but I know it's right for her.)

This article made me realize that it's okay to give my kids a good firm push every now and again. It's also okay not to listen to their noise. It's their job to make some noise, and it's my job to shut it down. However, I doubt I'll be threatening my kids with their Christmas if they aren't first in their class. I still think I'd rather have a happy kid, than a stressed out one. However, I have to admit, I'm curious about Amy Chua's book. Not sure I'm impose all of her methods, but a few may be worth trying.

Really? Is this necessary?

2011-01-06T21:45:00.000-08:00

There's been a buzz around the dance studio. A big name ballet teacher is evaluating kids and offering private lessons. I read the email announcing this news just before the holidays and promptly deleted it. For crying out loud, she's in 3rd grade...why on earth do we need an hour long evaluation followed by private or semi-private lessons?

Then, over the holidays I ran into someone I consider a sane dance mom and she asked if we were participating. "No," I laughed. "That seems more important for the older girls." Her daughter is much older than La Nina, so I assumed that was her interest.

Until she enlightened me. It appears I was the minority parent who casually deleted this email. "Hmmm," I thought. Then I dismissed all other thoughts about this topic. Really, she's in 3rd grade. This week I received another email urging me to have La Nina evaluated. I gracefully declined this invitation (at least I answered it) and left the house to pick up La Nina from dance.

"When's my evaluation?" she asked as she climbed into the van with her dance bag over her shoulder.

"Uh...." I answered, because I'm articulate like that when my kid catches me off guard.

"Friend A went last week, and Friend B went too. Friend C is going tomorrow and Friend D is going Friday, when do I go?"

After lots of begging, pleading, conversing with other dance moms I respect and backtracking with the studio, La Nina has an appointment. But I really still can't get over the central question, is this necessary at her age?

So, I asked some parents outside the dance world how these things work in their kids sports. I was shocked by their answers. Apparently, this is common practice in their respective sports and the prices offered to me were competitive if not low compared to what they were already paying. If you have a kid who is serious at a sport, private coaches for batting are very common as young as 4th grade for baseball and 2nd grade for swimming. (Admittedly, it's a small sample. )

I asked my friend why. "Well," my one friend said, "I just want him to the have experience of playing high school sports and at his age (11), he needs to get ready." Her kids will go to a competitive high school, similar to the one my kids will go to, and according to her, this is just what it takes today. The varsity baseball team is a tough team to make nowadays. Spots are reserved for kids years in advanced and often kids as young as 6th grade basically, know if they're going to have a shot at making the team. Her son is on all the right teams to nab a spot on the freshman team in 3 years, but he needs to keep improving...thus the private coaches.

When did this happen? Is it like this every where? Doesn't this kind of pressure sort of suck the joy right out sports? Aren't kids supposed to be participating in activities they are passionate about just to explore? Don't they have years to master this stuff? And there's another side to this coin: if I don't do this for my kid, do I send some sort of mixed message to the coach/teacher that she's not committed to dance? Do I limit her potential for future casting? Do I hurt her future with my glib email deletion habits? Literally, I was the only parent in a cast of 9 who dismissed this whole thing.

So, tomorrow night, La Nina will be evaluated for placement in this ballet academy. Semi-private lessons are based on skill, not age, so may be she'll be with friends, may be not. (Her interest will drop considerably if she's not with her friends.) And I may let her do this or I may not. I'm still just a little shocked we've gotten to this point and that I've got a lot of company in the place where I am.

Resolutions

2010-12-30T21:03:00.001-08:00

With only one day left in 2010, I think it's safe to officially declare I kept my 2010 resolution. I did something I've been meaning to do forever and I'm so happy I did it. I started a book journal. For those non-bibliophiles, a book journal is a journal where you record the books read during a calendar year and make some comments to yourself about them. Probably having a book journal is a sign that you're a complete dork. Since I'm actually writing about my book journal, I'm sure that makes me an uber-dork.

Yet, here are some of the great things I can do now that I have a book journal. Here are a few fun facts from my journal:

Books Read During 2010: 27 (My sense is this is about average for me.)

First book of the year: The Help, by K. Stockett

Most recent book completed: Garden Spells, by Sarah Addison

Books I Couldn't Get Through: 1 (Cutting for Stone...I gave up around page 200.)

Best Books: The Help, The Book Thief, The Girl Who...series, Elegance of a Hedgehog

Worst Book: Getting to Happy, Terry McMillan, Sweeping Up Glass

Book that made me laugh so hard I cried and embarrassed Maggie in a public place: Sh*t My Dad Says (Really, she told me to "get a hold of myself")

The great thing about a resolution like this one is that I know I'll keep it going. Now, that I've started tracking my reading, I'm sure I'll always do it. Now, to find an easy resolution for 2011...hmmmm...

Playdate Post

2010-12-23T11:44:00.001-08:00

We're in the middle of a huge playdate, but I just have to write this conversation before I forget it.

Nice Christmas Carols are playing. The kids just finished decorating cookies.

Friend #1: Can't your mom put on hip-hop?

I freeze in the kitchen and think, "Over my dead body."

La Nina: We don't get that kind of music in this house.

Friend #1: Yes, you do. Your Mom is listening to XM. I can show you where it is.

I'm thinking, time for this kid to go home.

La Nina: If you do that, she'll make you go home. She really doesn't like hip hop.

Friend #1: Oh, okay.

I almost burst out laughing. Especially since it's true, but it's also true that La Nina doesn't like hip hop. It's the only form of dance she doesn't do because she can't stand the music. I've done something right!

If it's not one thing...

2010-12-17T20:30:00.000-08:00

Tonight finds me incredibly sad. This afternoon I had to put my dog, Pete, to sleep. It turns out that limp Pete has had for the last month was bone cancer that had spread to his lungs. In the last couple of days, the cancer had weakened his bone to the point it broke. There was no point in further treatment. He died in my arms at about 4pm. He was 10.

His breeder named him "Wicked" and never was there a more appropriate name. He loved nothing more that to chase cats, steal food from the kids and snuggle into any bed left unattended. He could jump higher than any dog I've ever seen. In fact, when he was younger, his hind legs would hit my shoulder when he jumped excitedly at the park. (I'm 5'7", so this was really something.)

Pete, despite his many failings, was a dog with a gentle soul. He was the dog who got up with me to tend to babies in the middle of the night. He was the dog who logged more walking miles than any friend. He was the dog who made me laugh so hard I cried, usually after I recovered from wanting to kill him. He managed to break 4 plates in one mad dash across the living room one night. He once stole an entire pork tenderloin off the counter. He ate more than one gingerbread house. He also knocked me down more times than I can count, but unbelievably, I only remember seeing him knock down the kids a handful of times. He was two when La Nina came home from China, but adapted beautifully to life with a child, especially when he figured out she dropped food and he liked the food she dropped.

While I know this was the right thing to do, putting a pet to down is an incredibly hard thing to do. Especially at this time of the year. Especially after the past couple of months we've had. Especially when you think a trip to the vet might yield a bad prognosis, but when you expect to have time.

For the first time in probably 20 years, I live in a dog-less house. No one will meet me when I get out of bed in the early in the morning. No one will help me when the kids have a nightmare. No one will clean my floor after a really bad spill. Well, I guess I'll clean up after a bad spill, but no one will run the pre-clean cycle with his tongue.

To my dear Wicked Pete aka Navarro's Burning Sky: rest in peace my pal. You were loved and you will be missed.

La Nina's Big Weekend

2010-12-02T21:42:00.000-08:00

I admit it. I'm a shameless briber of my children. I figure I don't like to work for free, so why should they want to work for free? I don't typically bribe much around school things, but sports and other activities, I'm all about rewarding performance.

For soccer, it's been easy. You score a goal, you make a pass, you stop a goal, it all earns you something good. Because with soccer I'm dealing with Maggie, it's ice cream cones for small accomplishments, DS games for the big ones. In the last game of the season, her dad promised her a DS game for a hat trick (3 goals)..and by golly, she got a hat trick. When he shouted in from the side line, she could get another game for a 4th goal. There was fire in her eyes, and let me tell you...she came close.

For dance, it's been tougher. How do you measure it? It's tough. But La Nina had a big convention last weekend, and I came up with something. The audition. She had to compete for a scholarship. Last year auditions were a disaster. She complained and created every excuse in the book about why she couldn't audition. Sore tooth was the best one. Exactly why a tooth would prevent a kid from dancing is beyond me, but she went for it anyway. Even leading up to the convention, she was whining about the audition. They suck. I admit it. Two rounds of choreography, cuts, little kids get no mercy. The age range is 6-10...if little kids can't do the choreography they get cut. And trust me, littlest ones are cut first.

Here's what I told La Nina to make her feel better: She walked into the audition room without a complaint she got $5. (Hey, life is about showing up a lot of the time.) Then, if she made it past the ballet round of choreography, she'd get another $10, make it past the jazz round another $20. She had $35 on the line if she made the finals for the scholarship. About the same as a DS for a hat trick.

Audition morning dawned and La Nina was all smiles. She bopped into the audition room and waved over her shoulder securing the $5. I left at that point, so I really have no idea what went on in the room. Even now, I don't know what happened. Moms aren't allowed at auditions.

When I showed up at the audition room 90 minutes after drop off, La Nina greeted me at the door. She had a smile on her face and she said, "You owe me 35 bucks."

Okay, that meant she made it to the finals. At an AUDITION. That means she didn't have a tooth ache, a stomach ache, a liver ache, she made it through two round of choreography and she succeeded. I was so proud and completely stunned. She's only 8. She was competing against about 150 kids under 11. And she landed in the top 16. WHAT??????

It was about a 4 hour wait to find out whether or not she won a scholarship. In this case, she'd win a free pass into the convention for the following year. Really, not a big amount, but more just a way for a dancer to get some recognition. I heard from a teacher who was allowed in the audition, she did great and was probably the youngest kid in the finals, so really she had so much to feel good about and $35. I was ready for the disappointment. What an honor for her to make the finals.

Off to the finale we went, La Nina bolting ahead of me. I was staggering behind her carrying all her junk. Only 8 kids were getting scholarships from her room and everyone should be proud, then the names. And much to my utter shock, La Nina's name was called. She won a darn scholarship. At a girl.

So, say what you will about the downside of bribing. Yes, she should do well for the sake of doing well. But sometimes, incentives work. And if they drive a kid to do something that scares them a little and succeed, I think that's a great outcome.

A Dirty Little Secret

2010-11-23T21:31:00.001-08:00

You know, my daughter is a lovely, little girl. She's just got a sweet little smile and a kind spirit, and really, she's just a lovely little girl. And oh, she loves to dance. I mean, LOVES to dance. And with this, she's developed the nasty little secret of all dancers: smelly feet.

Her feet and dance shoes smell to high heaven. They smell like a cross between rancid fruit and a dead animal. One whiff will gag a sanitation worker. Over the last couple of years, this issue has gotten progressively worse. It's to the point where I don't let her take her dance shoes off in my car. She can take them off in the studio and safely stow them in her dance bag or she can wear them in the car and take them off in her room, with the door closed and put them in her room, but she may not take them off in my car as the smell will remain for a minimum of 3 days.

So, last night, she had a 30 minute rehearsal. She came out of the class and handed me her shoes and I nearly lost my lunch. And disaster of all disasters...she hadn't brought her dance bag. Now, I considered forcing her to hang her shoes out the window while I drove as fast as possible the 10 miles home. The problem was if she dropped a shoe, it would be tragic: she's competing Saturday and new shoes in competition are bad, very bad. I thought about wrapping them in plastic, but I didn't have any and I really didn't want to open the plastic when we got home. Then, I struck on the best solution. She could wear them in the car and I could drive the Dad's car until the stench cleared in mine.

If you saw me cruising around in the Dad's car today, now you know why. I wasn't really trying take care of his car. I was avoiding mine. I don't know if there's a solution to this little secret, but let me tell you...if you ever go back stage with a group of dancers, you will smell exactly what I'm talking about and it will be a memorable experience.

She's HIS daughter...trust me

2010-11-10T21:34:00.000-08:00

Last night the girls' were preparing speeches for their classes. Maggie was practicing a speech about her favorite game and La Nina was preparing a demonstration of "how to make a Cootie Catcher". In case you aren't in the know, Cootie Catchers have been around since I was a kid. They are these origami things, that little girls use to predict the fortunes or dare their friends to do silly things. They aren't complicated to make, so while I thought she should just teach her classmates dance step or two, I wasn't going to interfere.

She practiced last night by making two or three of these things, but she had one that was her demonstration "Cootie Catcher". At the end of one of her practice sessions, I asked her to read me the fortunes/dares. I don't know what made me ask that question, call it Mother's intuition or a distant memory from my childhood, but I suddenly realized, those fortunes/dares could be trouble. Our conversation went like this:

"Sweetie, read me your Cootie Catcher."

"No."

"I'm not kidding, I want you to read me what you wrote."

"I'm not going to read it."

Now the Dad is chiming in: "Read it now."

"No."

"Why?" I finally thought to ask her.

"Because it's inappropriate." (Really, she said this.)

"Then, you better start reading or start ripping it up, because that isn't going into your class tomorrow."

She started reading. "Read a book in a day." Nothing wrong. "Read 10 books in a day." Okay, pretty innocent. "Watch Disney Channel" Safe. "Kiss a boy." Excuse me? "Fart." What? "Fart 100 times in a day". that is not going to work. "Pee in the bathroom." And she's going to read this in class? "Pee in your pants." OKAY, let the shredding begin.

Then, she did something really odd. She said, "Mom, I'll just make another one." And she ripped up her demo. Easy as that. And that's when I got scared. I realized, she could whip one of these things out, write anything she wanted and take it into class and I'd have no clue.

We had a long talk about what was appropriate and since she was clear on inappropriate, I figured, maybe, just maybe she could be trusted. But I was scared. She wrote the Cootie Catcher and she tried to hide it from me. She agreed way too easy to rip up the bad one. So, I emailed the teacher a warning. Here's my actual note:

LaNina has also gotten her act together and will be providing the class a

lovely demonstration on how to make a Cootie Catchers. I can guarantee

the sample of the Cootie Catcher I have seen is completely appropriate for

class as opposed to the first one, which included a great deal of potty humor.

(This is now torn up and in the trash.) I will check the sample again in

the morning, but I know her. She's capable of pulling a fast one.

Therefore, you may want to either check her sample OR have her not read her

sample.

I've warned her not to try anything tricky and she just smiled. I'm

worried.

Her teacher reported she had no time to read or suggest fortunes/dares as her classmates asked her too many questions during the demonstration. The teacher found the whole situation hysterically funny. In fact, I think she was hoping she went for the racy version of the Cootie Catcher. But let me just be clear, this would have never occurred to me as a child. This child is definitely her father's daughter.

The Makings of a Giants Fan

2010-11-02T20:57:00.001-07:00

Last winter an old friend approached me with an opportunity: Any interest in buying a share in a block of seat licenses at AT&T Park? Hmmm....that would make me a part owner of season tickets for the Giants. I grew up an A's fan, I had mixed emotions about this move. The Dad did not have any reservations. To him, this was the opportunity of a lifetime, why I was hesitating? So, off went our check and in came tickets to about 15 games for the 2010 Giants baseball season.

You need to know, these seats are terrific. Section 119, Row R, Seats 1-4. We're about 20 rows behind home plate and a bit down the third base line. Foul ball territory whenever a lefty is at the plate. Close enough to really see the game. We get shade about 3:30 at every afternoon game, and the seats are protected from the wind, so you never really freeze which can be an issue during the summer in San Francisco.

Whenever we had all 4 tickets we took the girls. They memorized the number of every player on the team, chanted "Let's Go Giant's" with great gusto and even made through extra innings once or twice. They picked out a favorite player, Bengie Molina, and were crushed when he was traded to Texas. Panda and Posey slowly earned the top spots in their hearts. They grew into huge Giants fans very quickly.

It was a slower process for me. I really liked watching Posey once he joined the team in May; Lincecum and Wilson always spiced up the pitching. My favorite part of every game was when they delivered margaritas to my seat. After a few games, I started pulling for the earnestness in people like Huff Daddy and Freddy Sanchez, and Juan Uribe was just amazing at short stop. I bought an orange sweatshirt to wear on Orange Fridays, and I bought a couple of hats. I bought a bunch more margaritas and I even knew the magic number most of the month of September. I just didn't advertise this fact.

Still, I wasn't a rabid fan. I was a luke warm fan. I was happy the Giants won the West, sad we passed on the post season tickets and I wanted the Giants to do well, but the term "torture" rang true to me: The Giants had a history of choking in the post season, so I tempered my enthusiasm with a heavy dose of reality. These were the Giants. They found ways to lose.

Then, I started listening the National Media dismiss the Giants. Oh, they would never get past the Braves, I heard some ESPN guy say. But wait, hadn't I seen the Giants beat the Braves? I knew I'd seen that happen. Then during the LCS I heard Ernie Johnson say, something like 'the Phillies just needed to wrap up things, so he could see a Lee-Halladay match up in the World Series.' At the time he made that statement, the Giants were up 3-2 in the series. Why would he dismiss the Giants and look to a Rangers-Phillies match up? I'd seen a game when the Giants beat Halladay. This wasn't a long shot, at all. The Giants had a good chance. Then, the final straw: Joe Buck before the opening of the world series said that the Braves and Phillies were slumping at the plate, and that's why the Giants made it into the series. WHAT? Did he watch the same games I did? I thought the Giants pitchers looked dominating. Timmy was on fire. Sanchez had an amazing outing. Cain looked good. Why was he dissing the Giants?

And that's when I suddenly realized, I was a Giants fan. These national announcers knew less than I did about the Giants and frankly, they were really ticking me off. Why didn't anyone take my team seriously? They were good and they had nice people to bring me drinks in the hot sun. I liked this team. Suddenly, I really wanted to see the Giants win the World Series. As things got rolling, I was appalled that Bochy let Pat Burrell stay in the line up when he was 0-7 at the plate. Give Panda a shot at the plate in Texas when they had a DH. Cody Ross was the real deal in my book, as was Renteria and Cain and Bumgarner. These guys were good and deserved to be in the world series, because they were a good TEAM. No star. Just a good TEAM.

That's what made last night so fun. We were rooting for a team, our team. There was not a single star among them, but a group of great athletes working together to win. And you know what, I jumped up and down when Wilson got that last out, right along with the Dad and the girls. And I'm really glad we decided to buy those tickets. I still like the A's. Will still always hope they do well and I'll really hope we see another Bay Bridge series next year.

On a dime

2010-10-17T07:49:00.000-07:00

Things are always crazy around here, but lately even I'm overwhelmed. The Dad has developed a medical issue (no worries, it's not fatal) that resulted in the loss of his drivers' license for a minimum of 6 months and a very strict doctors orders that he's not to be left alone for 4 weeks. Before you ask, the kids are fine. Yes, they know everything that is going on. They've lived through it. La Nina is a bit emotional about the whole situation, the Magster is completely matter of fact about it, but she really prefers not to talk about it.

This came out of nowhere with no warning, though doctors think it's existed for a long time. One minute he could pick up milk, the next minute I can't go grocery shopping without coverage. Life changes on a dime and we're all just left to roll with the punches to the best of our ability.

It sucks, but it could a lot worse. My natural tendencies to compulsively plan have been totally derailed. And mostly, I'm left wondering...what just happened? I only plan one day out as I don't know what the next day will bring and it's too hard to redo everything because a practice time changes or a rehearsal gets cancelled.

There are so many things I'm grateful for in this situation. Living in my home town where family and long-time friends are abundant. Big hearted neighbors who show up at just the right time. Cell phones with email have been invaluable. Texting. What would I do without it in hospitals when I can't talk on the phone, yet need to get information out? Modern pharmaceuticals who will help us control this medical situation with minimal side effects. Mostly, the family who just steps up and asks nothing in return. How can people not believe in God when the evidence of Him can be found abundantly in the acts of a loving family?

And mostly, I'm left wondering...what just happened? One minute I was wondering if I should make dinner or fold laundry and the next I'm giving medical history to an ER doctor who is as stumped as I am. One day I'm complaining about the ever increasing cost of insurance, the next day I'm grateful for good coverage. One week, I'm making 3 trips to the grocery store because I forgot something. The next, I'm one trip and done, because I really don't want to leave the Dad alone for very long.

In the end, we're here. We're fine or on the road to being fine. If I seem a bit distracted, please forgive me. I've got a lot on my plate at the moment, but things will get better. I'm sure of it.

30 cookies, 2 kids and 1 70 lb. dog

2010-10-06T21:10:00.001-07:00

Sunday was our church's first ever Blessing of the Animals. This blessing is a tradition handed down from Franciscan monks. Without getting into a lot of history, it's just a nice ceremony where you take your pets and they receive a blessing.

But here's the reality, pets come in all shapes and sizes. Imagine a church grotto filled with dogs, cats, turtles, rabbits, snakes, hamsters, chickens and plants. (Yep, some people bring plants.) Now, consider if you will the food chain, and you'll realize attending this ceremony is really a leap of faith.

We have a dog, Pete. He's a 70 lbs. Australian Shepherd. Really, he's a beautiful dog. When we got him as a puppy, he was nicknamed "wicked". The breeder assured us he would settle down by the time he was 5. He's now 10 and we're still waiting. I rarely mention him in this blog. Not because he isn't a big part of our family, but because he is a menace to society. You would be horrified by his behavior. He steals food from the kids. He jumps on the kitchen table if I don't watch him. He rummages through any trash left open and thinks nothing of tormenting animals smaller than him...especially cats, squirrels and lizards.

Normally, I would never take this beast to a blessing. Oh, he needs a little God in his life, but really, he likes his sinning ways. I don't think he's going to reform at this age...so why inflict him on the good God faring pets of this world? But then, the kids got wind of this event...and a determined Magster is a force of nature bigger than me, so off we went to the Blessing of the Animals.

I offered to volunteer for this event, since I had to attend and I figured I could get the kids to hand out programs or something. But nope: I was assigned to bring cookies. Okay, I can manage a dog, I can manage 2 kids, but 3o cookies with the dog and kids. Now that's a religious experience. I got everything baked, packed and sealed in plastic. I sniffed the cookie container to make sure it was smell proof and I handed it to La Nina. The dog still outweighs her by 10 lbs, but I thought she would have a fighting chance if he got wind of the cookies. Besides the Magster and cookies are a very bad combination. I also packed some dog treats, some pooper scooper bags, water and a leash and I handed that bag to Maggie. I figured she could handle the dog treats...wrong she fed the dog all to the treats in the 3 minute car ride to the church.

I approached the church with the dog on a leash, La Nina with the cookies and the Magster with pooper scooper bags and water. My stomach was in knots. Church is about faith, so I bravely entered the animal fray and took a spot in the area labeled "Large Dogs". We were safely away from the cat section, no where near the bunnies, but dangerously near the chickens...which is really just a 7 lb., feathered covered doggie treat to a dog like mine.

I sat with my dog next to a fierce looking bull mastiff and a sweet looking lab. And things started well. Really they did. There was some polite sniffing, some tail wagging, but really nothing to even generate a correction from me. Until my friend showed up with her chicken and set it's box about 2 feet from my dog. His nose flew into the air and he began whining. His butt started shaking and before I knew it he was lunged at the box. I jerked him back with all of my might and I pulled the collar right over his head. Seriously, that chicken's life flashed before my eyes...and Pete's too I would guess. I moved so fast getting that leash back on that dog, it was superhuman.

In the end, Pete was blessed, the chicken got darn lucky and I didn't actually swear in church. A good day was had by all.

The Sacred Subject In School

2010-09-29T21:13:00.000-07:00

Maggie started speech last week. I guess the school finally decided they'd had enough of my begging and actually listened to Maggie speak English long enough to determine she can't say her "r's". Amusingly, her Spanish is flawless and since she's required to speak Spanish in the classroom, her little speech difficulty went undetected until I pointed it out to her teachers.

Anyhoo, in arranging for her twice weekly speech therapy, I had input into what subject she missed, and before I could state my preference the therapist added: She can miss anything but PE. The state requires she stay in that class. WTH?

Here's the reality: I could take her out of Math or Reading twice weekly for her speech class, but PE? Not happening. It doesn't matter that she plays soccer twice weekly and dances. It doesn't matter that she weighs 44 lbs soaking wet and slim cut clothes bag on her. It doesn't matter, basically, because there's money in PE and obesity prevention...so no missing PE. It's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. Even more in our district, PE now has specialist teachers, it's own cirriculum and even a dedicated classroom at our school. (Don't get me started on the PE health cirriculum which had Maggie coming home to ask me if she was fat because she liked ice cream!)

PE (aka Physical Education for my non-American followers) has come a long way since I was a kid. Used to be our elementary teacher hooked a whistle around her neck, grabbed a ball and marched us out to the play yard for a game of 4 square or soccer or even tetherball. It wasn't about obesity prevention in my childhood. It was more of a teacher sanity insurance plan. Basically, we had PE every time we got too obnoxious in class. It worked fine.

PE's importance has been so inflated that when they talk about cutbacks at our schools, they only teachers protected were PE teachers. Why? Because the other teachers get prep periods when the kids go to PE.

Here's the truth: PE is the easiest class to supplement. In our city kids can play any sport under the sun and most programs offer scholarships to disadvantaged families. In fact, I know many sports organizations recruit scholarship kids locally since their scholarships go unfilled.

This whole PE thing is so silly that I've actually considered fighting this battle at the district level, but I'm deciding against it. The Magster is very happy in her Speech class. We're pulling her out of social studies and she's paired up with the nicest boy in her class, who has a similar issue. So, if I won my little fight and Maggie started coming out of PE, she would lose her friend and that just defeats the purpose of the battle. But really, the schools need to think about this policy. Because frankly, it makes no sense.

GOOALLLLL!

2010-09-19T21:16:00.000-07:00

It's soccer season here in Soccer City USA. That means that the local sports' parks are filled with teams of all sizes every Saturday morning. Hundreds of people crowd the sideline cheering on their teams then head off to the Farmer's Market or other games or whatever errands need to get done on a fall Saturday.

And there we are in the thick of things with my mondo bag of soccer ball flung over my shoulder, my team bench, cooler and pop up shelter. In my pocket, I have my whistle, stop watch and line up. It's quite something to get all of my team's equipment from the curb to the field and back again. Literally, every member of the family and sometimes a random passerby's arms are loaded down like sherpas as we haul the equipment onto the sidelines.

This is Maggie's third season playing (and my 3rd year coaching) and she's loving the sport as much as ever. She's requested a soccer themed birthday party, she wrote her first class speech on her favorite sport...soccer, and she often wants to wear her cleats to school on Thursdays just so she's ready for practice, which starts at 5pm. She's off to a great start. She's fast, she's creative, she's aggressive. She's always intuitively understood the game, but now her skills are growing to match her intuition and it's such a joy to watch.

As her mom/coach, I have mixed emotions watching her this year. Now this counts. She's in an age group where the high comp coaches start paying attention. I have to rate all my players at the end of the season, and I know how I'll have to rate her. And while as a coach/mom, it's so exciting to see her develop, it's also a little sad. You see, if those coaches notice her, I don't know how much longer I'll be allowed to be her coach. I know in my heart the best thing in the world for her is to let her play competitively, yet the minute I do...no more coaching for me. Parents are not allowed to coach their kids high comp teams any longer.

Yes, technically, I have the rest of this season and next to coach her. I still have time. But if her season continues on the route it's on in the first two games, I won't be surprised if I get a call this spring for her to try out for high comp a year early. And if that call comes, I'll suck it up and take her out to try outs. It's the right thing to do. She'll love it. And if that call doesn't happen until after next season, that's okay too. I guess I just know it's out there for her...and the coach side of me knows it's probably going to happen. But the Mom side of me wants to hold on as long as possible.

Oh what a difference a "mellow" weekend makes...

2010-09-12T20:09:00.000-07:00

My life has been so out of control lately. All the travel in August and the upheaval of summer left my head swirling with logistics. Monday soccer and dance, Tuesday dance, Wednesday laundry, Thursday soccer and dance, then leave town on Friday until Sunday night, then start all over again n Monday morning. And did I mention I had to work 25 hours at some point between the activities and the laundry? Needless to say, I ended summer just exhausted.

But now that school has been back in session a couple of weeks and we've been forced to curtail our extra-circular activities...which only means we need to stay in town and what a difference it makes to not travel.

As I sit here on Sunday night, I know all my laundry is clean and folded. I still have a load to put away, but this is as good as done in my books. The grocery shopping is also done and I'm confident that I can feed my family for 5 nights without having to break down and order take out. I hate when we need to go out to dinner during the week. It messes up homework and my kids just have better weeks when we're home for dinner. Best of all, the house doesn't look like a Category 5 hurricane as blown through it. Now, don't think this means my house is clean, it isn't. But really, the upset from a mere thunder storm is pretty normal. There's a branch down here or there, but nothing major.

And the funny thing is, the weekend hasn't really been mellow. Yesterday morning we had the annual opening day of soccer parade at 7am, then our first game at 10am. But that was it for the day. I had time to hit the Farmer's Market, the grocery store and do laundry. WOW! Then today, the girls' had a birthday party followed by their monthly First Tee golf event. We went shopping and watched a friends soccer game too. I finished up the laundry, made dinner and viola...here I sit blogging. What a treat.

Now, the next week of our regular life doesn't seem so impossible. Busy yes, but not impossible. And I'm very grateful that I have time to sit back and enjoy tonight. Sometimes having fun gets in the way of just relaxing.

On Race

2010-09-05T21:31:00.001-07:00

I rarely think about the fact that I live in a bi-racial family. Occasionally, some ignorant comment will remind me, but the race issue isn't something that I live day in and day out. Yet, adopting kids a different race than me has taught me something. Race matters. Race matters very, very much to people of color.

Recently, I was taking my kids to a play date with a ethnically Chinese family. By this I mean, a family with a mom born and educated in China and obviously, Chinese kids. I don't know them that well, so I was coaching my kids on a few cultural differences. Eat what is offered, take off your shoes at the door, for crying out loud, no sassy American behavior in front of them. Okay some of my warnings were hopeless.

Anyway, as we were pulling up in front of the house, I asked the girls, "What do you want me to say if they ask about your adoption?" When I suspect I'll get questions, I ask this and basically, let the kids dictate my answers. Afterall, it's their adoption not mine I'm discussing. And much to my surprise, my ultra sensitive child answered, "You can talk about it to them. They're Chinese."

I was stunned. This child has never, I mean never, approved any discussion of her adoption. So, I asked, "Why is this different?" And they answer, "They'll understand Mom. You can talk to Chinese people about it."

Her response has sent my head spinning. Even though my kids are growing up in a white world, they share a comfort level with Asians that catches me off guard. I kid myself that race isn't an issue. But it is, whether I'm aware of it or not. It also made me feel bad for them. Perhaps I need to make a bigger effort to get them into environments with more people of Chinese descent.

It's funny that eight years into this adoption journey, my kids are still schooling me in the world of growing up bi-racially. I hope I'm a good enough student to make the most of these lessons to make their journey as rewarding as possible.

Wow! I fell off the face of the earth

2010-08-25T21:34:00.000-07:00

I can't believe it's been a month since I posted. But then again, when I think about the past month, yeah...there's been no time.

Here's a brief summary of our activities since I wrote last:

On July 30 my parents celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary and in honor of the occasion we had a party for about 70 of their closest friends and family. The party was a blast, exhausting, but a blast.

So after a few days of recovery, we decided to get some serious rest in Hawaii. After 10 days of snorkeling, golf, laying by the pool, more snorkeling, tubing and building sand castles, we reluctantly came home for exactly 4 days, two soccer practices, 7 dance classes and art camp.

On the fifth day we loaded up the minivan and headed for Santa Barbara. In Santa Barbara we had our 7th annual reunion with La Nina's adoption group. Hard to believe the babies are 8 and 1/2 and in the 3rd grade. How did that happen?

We got home late from a good time in Santa Barbara and had exactly 2 days, 1 soccer practice and 5 dance classes to recover for the first day of school, which was today. The big news on our school year is La Nina and the Magster are in the same class. Our school has a 2/3 combo class and we thought...why not? Great teacher, nice kids, similar homework and it's the only time in their lives when this can happen. Yes, we're prepared for some ups and downs, but we're optimistic it will go well. If today is any indication, it will be a non-issue for the kids, but those could be famous last words.

So- I promise to write more now that life is settling down a bit. We have some great adventures planned for future. Should be lots of great material.

Golf Really?

2010-07-28T19:59:00.000-07:00

I've heard a rumor that the most unused athletic scholarships at the college level are found in the area of women's golf. I don't know if it's true, but I'm sure I've read it somewhere. And I also know from talking to one of the varsity coaches that most varsity girls golf teams at the high school level have space available. So...being the scheming type of mom that I am, why not toss the kids into golf? Low risk of injury, life long skill and fun, upside is a college scholarship, varsity sport...why not?

So, this week, the camp of the week is golf camp, two hours a day through the local First Tee organization at the local driving range. No need to take an obnoxious amount of water (see previous post), no need to pack a lunch, just drop the kids off and let them hit the ball. My kind of camp.

On Sunday, First Tee had a clinic and we sent the girls as a warm up. For $15 a kid, they got a golf lesson with the coach from a local college plus they participated in a bunch of golf related games like putting contests, chipping contests, etc. When the girls came in from the clinic, I was very curious. Did they like it?

La Nina loved it. She won the putting contest for the little kids and thought driving the golf ball was the best. But what about the Magster? I wondered about my energizer bunny. Golf is more sedate than soccer and for a girl who is counting the days to when soccer practice starts I wondered what she would think.

When I asked, instead of giving me a thumbs up or thumbs down the Magster greeted me with all 10 fingers pointing straight to the ceiling. "What does that mean I asked?" "Mom, every finger is giving golf the thumbs up. Even my butt is giving golf a thumbs up."

Now, we've never had an activity that received a butt thumb's up on any activity. I was excited about golf camp for the girls and let me tell you it's a hit. They love putting, their teacher, hanging out at the range. They bound out of bed every morning, get dressed and are ready to go. Even La Nina is happy getting out of bed early for golf camp and she's definitely not a morning person.

Through the camp, they're now members of First Tee and can play at a local par 3 golf course for $3 a round plus get a discount on buckets of balls. Both girls want their papa to take them to the driving range next week and are asking if we can play golf on an upcoming vacation.

Now, I know many of you are thinking, golf...what an expensive activity. Through First Tee, it's not bad. And we're dance parents. Golf is nothing compared to dance. So far, the girls think golf is their second favorite activity next to dance and soccer, respectively. Who knows? May be my scheme will work out after all.

Day Camp

2010-07-19T20:41:00.000-07:00

This week the kids are going to a city run day camp. I went to this day camp as a child and loved it and figured that my kids would enjoy it too. It's everything day camp should be: games, hiking, crafts project, lessons on the natural world plus you get to sleep in your own bed every night. Really nothing has changed at the camp since I was a kid. Except one thing...the rules given to parents. (A slight disclaimer: Mom, if you had to do this, please let me know. I don't think you did, but I was 8...what do I know?)

1.) Sunscreen:

Old Times: When I went to camp, there was no sunscreen. No mention of sunscreen to my parents and no requirements that I bring sunscreen with me.

New Times: I'm instructed to slather a sun screen of no less than SPF 15 on my kids 30 minutes before drop off plus each child must bring their own supply AND no siblings can't share. Special face cream and lip protection is also recommended.

Reality: So, each day, I'm supposed to send 6 separate sun protection lotions with my kids to camp. Doesn't that seem excessive? Then there's this simple fact: La Nina isn't awake 30 minutes before she has to leave the house and she isn't going to reapply ANTYHING without some serious adult intervention. I don't think camp counselors have the fire power. So, am I supposed to awake my child with the application of sun screen? This seems a little over the top to me, but it gets worse.

2.) Shoes

Old Times: Shoes were a good idea. Sure, we had to wear them. But really, sandals, flip flops, no one cared what was on our feet. I vaguely remember my Mom telling me to put on sandals with straps, but closed toe shoes were not discussed.

New Times: I'm instructed that my kids must wear only closed toe shoes and socks that cover their ankles plus bring a back up pair of shoes and socks that cover their ankles.

Reality: My kids don't even own two pairs of tennis shoes. Why would I buy them two pairs? The Magster lives in her crocs and I don't think La Nina's been out of her flip flops by choice since school ended. So, I'm supposed to go buy them extra shoes just to get through this week at camp. I think not. Magster has a pair of La Nina's old shoes and La Nina has a pair of sparkle shoes that are really not appropriate for camp.

3.) Water:

Old Times: Soda in my bag lunch and a drinking fountain and I was good to go.

New Times: Each child is required to bring 4-16 oz. bottles of water a day. Waters are to be chilled, not frozen and they should be kept cool with fake ice.

Reality: Lunch boxes don't hold 4 bottles of water. The Magster doesn't drink that much water in 3 days, let alone one day. I think 4 bottles of water is half her body weight. La Nina, who is better about water after a dehydration speech from her doctor, might drink two bottles a day...but come on. I can barely drink that much. So, I sent 3 bottles each. One for the morning, one for lunch, one for the afternoon. And the staff told the Dad at drop off I had to do better tomorrow.

Here's the thing: they are forever telling parents to lighten up on our kids. Don't hover. Let them make their own mistakes. Don't harass them over the small mistakes. Yet, what do these institutions do to us parents? Can you say micromanage? Geez! Packing them for day camp each day is a major project. Need the water, the snacks, the lunch, the light jacket, the extra shoes. Then the kids go through a security like backpack screen before being admitted to camp. If something is missing, then parents are reminded the requirement is 4 waters, not 3...for instance.

The kids liked the camp just fine. I'm happy to report I saw no sign of sunburn or dehydration. And their feet were in great shape. The problem is I have mixed emotions about the whole experience.

A New Hobby

2010-07-10T19:38:00.001-07:00

For the fourth of July, we went to Lake Tahoe with a group of friends. I think the entire town where we live was there, but that's another story.

While we were in Tahoe, we tried a new activity. Geocaching. A geocache is a small vessel that is hidden somewhere in a public spot. It's location is noted on a web site with its exact longitude and latitude. It's then the job of the geocacher to take those coordinates and find the cache. These caches can be anywhere: in trees, buried under leaves, in bushes, near rocks, etc. The hidden object can be anything from a film container to a ammo box. It usually contains a log and some items for trading. To find the caches, you go to the web site, find a cache near you, simply enter the coordinates into your GPS and start hiking.

At Northstar, the first place we tried it, the resort had actually hidden the caches. They provided participants with maps and rental GPS' with the coordinates already loaded. We skipped the rentals, loaded coordinates into our phones and went right for the search.

Now, normally, if we suggested anything like hiking to the kids, our suggestion would be met with protest. "Too hot", "too long", "too sweaty"....would be the complaints. IF we actually forced the issue and made them hike, it would make the "Trail of Tears" look like a party. La Nina would be drinking water like she'd just crossed the desert and the Magster would be taking the smallest steps possible, her head wobbling on her shoulders like she didn't have the strength to hold it properly.

However, geocaching is not hiking, so there is minimal complaining. In fact, the Magster led the search. Now, La Nina still brought up the rear...but sweating happens whether your hiking or geocaching. Both had great fun finding the caches and searching through the trade objects. (We were unprepared to trade, so we just looked.)

With 1.1 million caches hidden world wide, this hobby can be pursued anywhere. We've found about 5 caches within a mile of our house. A couple are within a few hundred feet. The only challenge to this activity is muggles: Folks who don't approve of cachers and actively seek to throw away our stashes. So, if you're doing this, you're supposed to hide the GPS' and only look when no one else is around.

We've had a blast pursuing this new activity with the kids. For more information, check out this web site: http://www.geocaching.com/. Have fun and beware of muggles.

Who is he talking about?

2010-06-29T21:19:00.000-07:00

A couple of years ago, when La Nina was new to the whole dance scene I remember seeing this group of girls dance. They were amazing. They did this tap routine to the Travis Tritt song "T-R-O-U-B-L-E". They were dressed all in black, and man, could those little girls tap. I started talking to their Moms and they were all in 2nd or 3rd grade...old compared to my Kindergartner. Those little tappers made quite an impression and I'm still talking about them 3 years later.

Last weekend La Nina completed her final performances of the 2009-2010 season. Her group, nicknamed the "Moes", because they danced to Joe Jackson's "5 Guys Named Moe", performed in the recitals for the dancers aged 2 to 6. The "Moes" were the Big Girls at this show. At this point in the season, the girls are basically dialing in their performances. They can do this dance in their sleep. I've seen this dance performed at least 15 times, so even us Moms don't even bother to watch the performance, we busy ourselves with things like World Cup games that are being played at the same time.

Anyhoo, after the show, I took the "Moes" into the back of the theatre to watch last part of the show. As we were walking through the halls backstage, this dad of one of the other performers stopped them and said, "You girls were awesome. How old are you?"

They answered "8" because they all are 8. And then he proceeded to tell them how great they were. He asked them how many years they had been dancing, etc. (Before you think he was weird...I swear, he was just a Dad lined up for the Daddy-Daughter dance...nothing odd about it.)

While the girls politely (and professionally, I might add) answered the questions and I checked the US-Ghana score on my phone, it suddenly struck me: To him, they were as good as the TROUBLE girls were to me 3 years ago. It was really shocking. I don't see these girls like that. I've seen that dance so many times. I've seen them nail it. I've seen them mess it up. I've seen them just go through the motions. But to an outsider, they were really good. I guess La Nina is getting somewhere with this whole dance madness. And just like her growing up, I don't notice the changes because I'm blinded by the hours, when I should be trying to see the months.

That little 'aha' made the fact I missed part of World Cup backstage at a dance recital worth it...almost. I might not say that if the US had won.

New Television Rules

2010-06-20T20:25:00.001-07:00

To the children in the house:

Due to World Cup soccer, we're instituting a few new television rules in our household. These rules are only in effect until World Cup ends in mid-July.

1.) There is no longer a 90 minute limit on morning television. You are allowed to watch as many hours of television as it takes to get through the two full length soccer games.

2.) There will be no asking your mother questions when the ball is in front of either net. She must concentrate on the game and is not responsible for any answer she gives. And no, you may not eat cookies for breakfast no matter what I say.

3.) Under certain circumstances it is okay to call a player, referee or situation "stupid". Those instances may include (but are not limited to) players who are red-carded in the first half, goalies who drop balls they should catch unless it results in a US goal in which case we don't complain and obviously fair goals that are called back by referees who are blind to muggings in progress.

4.) Your mother is allowed to rewatch goals on the DVR as often as she likes and you may not question her. She's checking for offsides.

5.) Your mother is allowed to explain any play she feels it is important for you to understand and you are expected to watch the play and nod accordingly. She may give you a quarter if you ask a question about the play in question.

6.) If any adult in the house utters a swear word while watching the game, you are to dismiss it from your memory immediately and if anyone asks if you've ever heard that word, then you are never to answer, "My mother says that all the time while watching soccer."

7.) Under no circumstances is anyone in the household allowed to change the channel during a game.

8.) Once the final game is played, normal rules are back into effect and yes, the word stupid is back on the bad word list once World Cup is over.

Summer's Here...and not a moment too soon

2010-06-14T20:35:00.000-07:00

I tell you, the last two weeks of the school year are utter chaos. There are school plays, water days, field days, donuts for dad, dance recitals and dress rehearsals. I've felt like a hamster running as fast as I could on a wheel that wouldn't stop spinning. Then, last night hit. We wrapped up Maggie's dance recital and I realized it was over. No more end of the year insanity. Just days of blissful summer time stretching before me like a lazy trail through a peaceful meadow.

Of course, this is really just an illusion. La Nina's next dance season starts July 12. There are plenty of summer camps planned and vacations too. But I'm trying not to think about all that packing, unpacking and laundry. I'm trying to focus on the lack of homework, the delightful reality of not rushing children to school every morning. The smell of chlorine and suntan lotion on my kids' skin. Lazy afternoons by the pool. Awww...just pour me another margarita, let me slip into some sandals and all will be well in my world.

Support our School

2010-06-05T06:54:00.000-07:00

The City

2010-06-01T20:50:00.000-07:00

Going to the city a couple of times in the last few days made me realize how much I miss being there everyday. I worked in downtown San Francisco for five years and while there is no way I could do it now, I miss it. I miss the energy of San Francisco, the amazing walks I used to take every Friday, the neighborhoods, the food, the shopping...let's not forget the shopping.

The funny thing is I've started taking the kids into the city. We go to Giants game in the Spring and Summer. We meet friends in there for dinner whenever we can. During the winter, we go ice skating. La Nina has a dance convention in there around Thanksgiving and we make a long weekend of it. When you consider, field trips and other random events, we're probably in San Francisco 8-10 times a year.

I noticed today the girls are getting pretty city savvy. The girls ride BART like pros. Of course, La Nina can't stay awake for longer than 5 minutes on the train, but that's sort of just her nature. The girls are very clear on the purpose of cabs and they know sometimes it's really quickest to catch a cab at the nearest hotel. And most amusing, they even know some people ride cable cars just for the experience, but really cable cars are a great way to avoid the hills. On top of a hill, La Nina pointed out a cable car stop so we didn't have to walk down the hill. When got on the cable car, she whispered to me that the other people looked like they didn't go to San Francisco much because "they take pictures of everything."

Of course, they still have a lot to learn. They're good about crossing streets with the lights, but they still make me nervous. They know to avoid drunks and the homeless, and they just keep walking when a pan handler approaches us, but I wouldn't want them to navigate the street people by themselves. And forget bathrooms, La NIna blanched at a standard Chinatown bathroom today and it wasn't even bad. But at least she went. The Magster held it for hours to avoid the bathrooms. I'm still not sure how she did it.

It's funny how you end up exposing your kids to the things you enjoy, simply because they are things you don't want to give up just because you have kids. And somehow, the kids start enjoying them too. Of course, when the thing you enjoy is San Francisco, it does have a downside. By the time my kids are teens, they will be completely comfortable navigating the city without a car. That means in their young teens they'll be able to lead a group of wayward suburban youth into all kinds of trouble. My apologies now to all the parents of their friends.

First Communion

2010-05-16T08:47:00.001-07:00

It used to be, once a week, my mom dropped me off at CCD, picked me up an hour later. Then, in May of second grade you received First Communion. Or like me, whose mother started her late in First Communion, you received it in 3rd grade. (Forget the fact that my mother had just had a baby.) Now, this sacrament involves Faith Formation (CCD) and two years of extra preparation. This extra preparation comes in the form of monthly classes that kids must attend WITH their parent/parents. As the only Catholic in the family, that means I must go.

To put it mildly, these classes are dull. In fact, they were the longest hour and a half of my month. When La Nina complained, I was completely sympathetic and empathetic. I think she had to force me to go a couple of times.

Finally, after all the preparation, the big day arrived for La Nina last Saturday. After months of hearing that First Communion was not about the dress, for little girls, First Communion was all about the dress. DUH! La Nina was actually very easy to shop for. She picked out an inexpensive dress and shoes. She didn't want a veil and opted for an inexpensive bow. I got out of the whole deal for less than the cost of a dance costume, so I was thrilled. So thrilled, I told Maggie she didn't have to wear her sister's dress next year. If you're not Catholic, you should know there's a long standing Catholic tradition of handing down dresses.

La Nina was actually quite nervous about the whole thing. She had to walk in with a boy she didn't know and then there was the whole sip of wine thing. I let her try a sip of my wine before she tried it in church. I thought that trying wine at home was preferable to having her spit it out on the altar. She didn't like my wine, which was a good thing. In church, she took a sip and returned to our seat to announce that my wine was way better than the church's. On one level, I applauded her palate...but I sort of had to sush her. I mean really, people would think she was drinking wine with dinner every night and in the US, this just isn't done.

After the church service, we came back to our house for tacos with friends and family. All the grown women discussed our First Communion dress dramas...bad socks, veils, no veils, too short, too long, everyone woman had something to say. I, of course, told my tale of woe, the lone 3rd grader getting the host. Because when you're 8, no matter how hard the church tries, First Communion is about the dress and the experience. I hope La Nina remembers hers as a good experience. But if she doesn't, it's okay. Having some sort of a beef with your First Communion seems to be as much a part of the experience as bad wine.

Las Alazanas de Jalisco

2010-04-24T21:52:00.001-07:00

Below is a video of Maggie's class performing at her Multicultural Fair this week. She's on the right in white. She took her dance very seriously and did a great job.

La Vida es un Carnaval

2010-04-24T21:52:00.000-07:00

Below is a video of what turned out to be a very controversial dance: La Nina's Salsa. Apparently, some second grader went home and told their mother this was a very sexy dance. The mother then complained to the school. To this I ask, why does a second grader know what sexy means? I also say, my daughter is a dancer. If you tell her to shake, she's going to shake. And for crying out loud, salsa's involve shaking. (Look for the kid who is really shaking it...that's my girl!)

Ballando con las estrellas

2010-04-24T21:24:00.000-07:00

This week was the Multi-cultural Fair at our school. A time when we celebrate cultures from around the world, but mostly Latin America because we're in a Dual Immersion Spanish program. Most of the classes pick a dance from somewhere around the world, practice it for a couple of months and then perform it at a school assembly, then again for the community (aka parents, grandparents and anyone else willing to watch.)

As the parent of a serious dancer, my favorite part of this event is the utter lack of professionalism. Kids are waving from stage, picking up parts of their costumes that dropped, stopping and staring for no apparent reason. La Nina is horrified by the behavior of her peers, but I love it. Seriously, it's my favorite event.

The costumes are also fantastic. Most of them hand made by some willing mom with a sewing machine and the ability to forgo several hours of sleep to manufacture 12 dresses/shirts/pants/scarves...you get the picture. Thankfully, I didn't have to sew. I hate to think what my tailor would have charged. (The Magster costumes this year were borrowed from a local folk dance troupe and they were really fantastic. )

In the end, both girls had a great time and we were very proud parent. I think events like this are the part of their childhood I will miss the most when they grow up. The pure charm of kids performing is delightful and one of the treasures of parenthood.

The Start of Something

2010-04-18T19:48:00.001-07:00

Last week, while we were on vacation, we spent some time with one of my dearest friend's from high school and two of her daughters, aged 10 and 14. The girls enjoyed each other's company and La Nina was particularly embarrassed by her new friends' ariel cartwheels, front and back walk overs and back handsprings.

As my friend and her kids were leaving, her 10 year old asked if they could go to "Justice". I'd never heard of the place, so I asked. My friend explained it was a clothing store. La Nina immediately piped up that a couple of her friends' at school only shop there and she really needed to go too. Needless to say, a mall was not on my list of vacation hot spots, so we didn't go.

However, today was a different story. La Nina's First Communion is 3 weeks away and she needs shoes and a slip. We had to go to the mall anyway, and lo and behold we discovered our mall also has a Justice.

Justice is a store targetted for 'tweens. They only carry sizes 7 through 14. They play really loud Jonas Brothers and Miley Cyrus. Everything is neon. And a lot of it is emblazoned with something about dance or soccer. It was nirvana for La Nina, who disappeared 30 seconds after we entered the store.

Figuring she wouldn't leave this mecca of 'tweendom, the Magster and I looked around for a dress for her. We found something pretty quickly, she tried it on and was ready to go in about 5 minutes. I still hadn't seen her sister so thought I should look for her.

I found La Nina in the jewelry section. Unbeknownst to me, she had brought along her wallet and was picking out some earrings. She showed me what she had picked out, none of them were too dangly and they were actually quite tasteful considering her preferences run much more racy than mine.

She gets in line in front of me to check out, hands over the jewelry and I think I see an extra pair...but I sort of dismiss the thought. As we're walking out, she shows me some earrings on the rack. They are big hoops with lots of rainbow-colored peace signs hanging on them, certainly not something for an 8 year old. I just laugh and say "No."

We walk out of the store and she tells me she bought the earrings I just nixed with her own money and she's going to where them. A lot of thoughts went through my head in that moment, none of them remotely favorable to her position nor anything I dared utter aloud. Instead, I decided to explain a fact of life: Maternal Veto.

This rule lasts until she is 18. I don't care who buys it, how much it costs, how rare it is, how cool it is, etc. If I say No, it's no. Now I could have made her exchange the earrings on the spot, but then she'd get her money back and considering how sneaky she was, I decided that was way too nice. She needed to learn a lesson. Instead, I forced her to give the earrings to me. She tried to tell me I owned her $8, but no way. Next time, she needs to ask before she buys. I now own a lovely pair of hoop earrings covered with peace signs. I bet you're all jealous.

The Situation with Russia

2010-04-14T20:27:00.000-07:00

For some reason, once you adopt, everyone feels the need to bring up the bad adoption news to you. I don't know how many times I've heard over the last few days, "Gosh, did you hear about that family who sent their kid back?"

Yes, I heard and it breaks my heart. No child deserves to be abandoned. Not even the hardest to handle, most difficult, most violent child deserves this. And that what is so very sad. What is also sad is the reflection this act perpetuated by one family casts on all adoptive families. Russia is now threatening to stop all adoptions, because of the act of this one family. This extends one family's tragedy into a nightmare for hundreds innocent people who will be great parents if they're allowed the chance and adoption may be their only chance.

Like it or not, adoptive parents are more scrutinized and held to higher standards than biological ones before, during and after the adoption. Before adopting we undergo background checks, financial analysis and medical exams. In China, I'd rather face the scrutiny of the government officials than those grandmas who are brutal in their comments about the care we give the kids. Once we get home, social workers visit and follow up. On my more cynical days, I wonder how many people would be allowed to reproduce if they went through the scrutiny we did. And yet, crazy people still manage to adopt. But many, many, many more great people adopt than crazy ones.

I don't know what the answer is to stop crazy people from adopting, but if there is one, I'm all for finding it. Because the many, many positive adoptions stories rarely make the top story on the news, but boy, the bad ones are never missed.

Tonight we discussed this story over dinner with our kids. Why? Because if people bring it up to me, the girls may hear about it at school and I want them to hear about it from me first. I want them to have a response in their back pocket if someone asks about it. La Nina said she would tell people she knew nothing about it, the Magster said she would tell them it's very sad. Both answers work just fine. I really wish we didn't have to have these conversations, but it's the reality of adoption in the ultra connected world.

So, if you see me in the next few days, yeah, yeah, I heard. But you know what, why don't we talk about some of the inspirational adoption stories I know? Because you know, the vast majority of adoptions are great stories with very happy endings. And at this point, the Russian government needs to hear those stories.

Dance Season Ends on a High Note

2010-03-30T21:25:00.000-07:00

In the midst of dance season, La Nina had to audition for the 2010-2011 season. It's sort of cruel and unusual punishment for exhausted mothers to have to sit through an extra night of dance, but we manage somehow. (Ok, we hit the bar next to the studio.)

In the week following the audition, emails started flying about next year's schedule. And last week, I had news on La Nina's schedule...she wasn't going to compete in the dance she wanted to add next year. Lyrical, or ballet to non-classical music, has been something La Nina has wanted to do for the last two years. The youngest they take kids is 8 and she is old enough this year. But there wasn't room in the piece for any more kids, so La Nina would have to sit out a year.

I knew she would be disappointed, but that's life. Sometimes things just don't work out. It's a good life lesson. Sometimes you just have to wait for what you want. Last Thursday, there was lots of chatter about schedules among the Moms so I decided to tell La Nina. I was worried one of her friends would spring the casting news on her and I wanted her to hear it from me. I told her and of course, she was very disappointed.

So, while she went into her last convention of the year with a heavy heart, she had accepted the decision, was set to do her best and work harder in ballet next year. Saturday night as her little tap group took the stage, I thought it was sort of a shame they weren't getting lyrical. They dance really well together and they've been with their teacher for 3 years. But they've had so much success this year, they're being moved up in tap. It's sort of sad that their teacher choreographs these dances for them, then once their group is successful, they move onto harder choreographers. But you know, it's the director's decision on casting and ultimately, she needs to make these decisions, not me.

Anyway, the La Nina's tap group got up on stage Saturday night and nailed their dance. Even when one of the girl's hat fell into her eyes and she basically danced the whole dance blindfolded, the girls weren't distracted. It was amazing. And the judges recognized it. Their little group took 1st place in overall high score for small groups under 10. They received special recognition for outstanding showmanship. Just a huge night for the little foursome who beat out a whole bunch of older groups.

Their studio head was happy with them. Came over after awards and personally congratulated them with big hugs. She choreographs for them in jazz, so they know her fairly well. It was a very exciting night.

Monday, the big day for 2010-2011 cast lists to be announced, dawned with La Nina just exhausted from her weekend. She looked horrible in the morning. A true dance hangover. About noon, I get an email from the studio director. She's changed her mind and given the 4 little tappers a lyrical piece with the same choreographer as her tap piece. I was so happy for La Nina, the girls on her team and their teacher of 3 years. Big recognition for a job well done by all of them. When I picked La Nina up from school, I handed her my phone and let her read the note. She literally started jumping (or should I say leaping) for joy.

We came home from school, dance was cancelled for the day and despite her obvious exhaustion, she put on her dance clothes and practiced ballet all afternoon. She even slept with her ballet shoes on. I'm so glad she has something in her life that inspires such passion.

Expectations

2010-03-16T21:11:00.000-07:00

For a dancer, auditions are a way of life. Even when you're only 8, you're expected to audition. Last weekend, La Nina was supposed to audition for a scholarship. Supposed to, because about 30 minutes before her audition she developed a very serious tooth ache and had to leave the convention immediately.

Now, don't be concerned. I wasn't. I knew there was nothing wrong with her tooth. She was just worried about the audition. She'd been nervous about it all morning. I tried to let her know she only had to try her best, but my words fell on deaf ears. Rather than force the whole issue, I agreed with her that her tooth would never allow her to audition and we left the convention. Sure enough, there was a real live miracle in the car as we were driving home. Her tooth healed by divine intervention and she was suddenly hungry for a taco.

But you know, little girls with sore teeth can't eat tacos, can't watch tv, can't play wii, can't play in front with the neighborhood kids. Kids with sore teeth must stay inside and read books on nice spring days when they've bailed on an audition for no reason.

Lo and behold, Thursday night is another audition. She's willing to go to this one because it's her ticket into the company next year. But, she's yakking a lot about how embarrassing it is to audition, how depressing it is to not make it and how I told her she would never succeed. Say What? I never said that.

Turns out she got a wee bit confused the morning of her last audition. I told her I didn't expect her to succeed every time, but I did expect her to try her best and that no matter what happened, I would always be proud of her. I was trying to reassure her that my love wasn't wrapped up in the outcome of an audition for a $100 scholarship. Well, she didn't know what the word "expect" meant and assumed I was telling her she'd never succeed. Oy Vey!

I explained what I was trying to say, and hopefully, I reassured her. In 10 days she has another scholarship audition. I'll be happy if she just gives it a shot. And hopefully, she realizes one day she will succeed in these auditions. I know this as certainly as I knew her tooth wasn't hurting last Saturday.

When the cats are away...

2010-03-14T21:49:00.001-07:00

So, you may be wondering what happens at home when La Nina and I are gone all weekend at dance conventions and competition. Essentially, the Dad and the Magster are left to their own devices.

There's always some soccer. The Magster's playing indoor soccer, I'm supposed to be coaching, but the Dad is standing in, SO, the Magster has to call me around 11am to give me the goal update. She's a bit of a maniac with the whole goal scoring thing.

Then there's entertainment. The Dad is creative in how he entertains the Magster. She's suddenly very conversant in college basketball and golf. And he knows an awful lot about the latest kids movies that are out...this weekend it was Alice and Wonderland. I pointed out this was not a kid's movie about the time Maggie was describing how Alice chops out a dragon's tongue and how mice knock a dog's eyes out.

Then, of course, there was Maggie's announcement that last night they had popcorn for dinner. Well, the Dad explained, they'd been at a St. Patrick's Day party, and they'd been eating all afternoon, and really they had to get to the movie and well, they didn't get home until 8pm. Oy vey.

I'm really not writing this to be critical. In truth, I find it completely amusing. When I get home, the Magster is obviously happy, full of stories and today the house was covered in shamrocks the two of them had been making. Clearly, she is happy and well-cared for, so that's all that matters. Now if I could just get someone to do a load of laundry.

Dance update: La Nina's dance teams are doing great. Her tap team placed 2nd in a very competitive tap division this week. It was quite the coup for a group of 8 year olds. (By the way, La Nina turned 8 this week...hard to believe.) Her jazz group is also doing well. They, too, placed 2nd over the weekend.

Tales from the Reluctant Dance Mother

2010-02-28T20:36:00.000-08:00

The backstage world of dance competitions is a jungle, sometimes literally and always figuratively. This week, it was a bit of both. It was hot (probably in the low 80's), a jungle of costumes in every conceivable size, color and shape hung to resemble vines on trees and as crowded as a watering hole at sunset after a steamy day.

Turf is key backstage. You need to snag some for your dancer as soon as you arrive. It really doesn't have to be much, but enough so that when you are changing costumes and hair, you have somewhere to stand. Of course, there are the alpha moms who spread out big blankets and command several square yards for their little lovelies. Likewise there are the lost souls, who's kids only have one dance and really need no space but need to be in the dressing room because that's where the kids are picked up prior to their stage time. These poor people just stand around shifting their weight from foot to foot, wondering if it's okay to leave their daughters and go take a seat. All of us, the alphas, the lost souls and everyone in between are crammed into a space just trying to make sure our kids look right for their big moment.

Often space next to an outlet is prime real estate. In these areas, the electric curling device cords octopus out from the wall, and you hear the random kid or mom scream when hot irons sear flesh. In other areas, there might be a mom sitting on a stool stitching a piece of elastic onto a hat or may be repairing a hem. Amid this chaos are dancers, lots and lots of dancers, leaned up against black dance bags playing their DS, listening to music, maybe smacking their hands together in a game of Miss Mary Mac. Kids are usually in costume or sweats, just patiently waiting to be called. Their faces are made up. Their hair is usually done, and there they are sprawled on the floor, just waiting.

Usually La Nina and I try to grab a small space near a door and hope for a cool breeze. I like to get her costumes hung up so I can see what I'm doing as there is never much time between numbers. When we get backstage, she usually runs off to chat with her friends or check out the latest DS games while I set up. I usually have to rein her in to get her dressed or 'finished' for stage. She's usually distracted, impatient and worried about some random thing like the whereabouts of one of her friends, the bow on her costume or the performance order. She always wants to know how long she has. And alas, I never know. The time she will get called varies, so really timing is anyone's guess.

It's usually not too long. By the time, her make up is touched up, her costume is on, her hair is fluffed, she's getting called to stage. That's my cue to run around to the front of the building, grab a seat and wait for her to perform.

The backstage experience is always a bit surreal to me. I mean, really, all I'm there to do is the care and feeding for my little beast. I need to make sure she's ready for stage, properly watered if thirsty, properly fed if hungry (nothing that could possibly stain a costume). My main goal is to not step on the blanket of an alpha mom and avoid the moms who look as if they are about to eat their young at any moment. Oh, and make sure my little lovely is ready when they call her.

This week her teams did pretty well. Both numbers took first place in their division, which is categorized by age and dance type. Her tap number placed 6th and her jazz number placed 3rd overall in their age group. It's only the first competition of the year and I think if the girls hit their jazz number, they will be very tough to beat.

So, it's one down and three to go on this dance season. The picture above is of La Nina, clutching her winnings, crashed after the drive home. Both the trophy and the plaque go to the studio tomorrow. In case you're wondering what she thinks of it, she wore her dance clothes all day today even though she had no class.

P.S. While her sister was dancing, the Magster was tearing it up on the indoor soccer field. She scored 4 goals, for a total of 6 on the day.

Tales from the Reluctant Dance Mother

2010-02-23T20:28:00.000-08:00

Beyond Chinese New Year, last weekend also brought about the dreaded beginning of dance season. That means every weekend from now until the end of March we have some sort of dance event. Competition, convention, audition, you name it, La Nina will be there. And by default so will I with my lovely Dream Duffle.

We kicked off the mayhem with a dress rehearsal on Saturday night. That meant hair, make-up, costume changes, the whole thing designed to be "practice." Now, my theory has always been the dress rehearsals are more for me than my dancer. She practices twice a week, she doesn't need practice. Me, on the other hand, I need practice. I played soccer as a kid.

Here's why I need practice, one of La Nina's two competition costumes has 6 pieces, not counting earrings and shoes. The odds of losing a piece are stacked against us with crowded dressing rooms, fast turns and an over-excited, nearly 8 year old tossing arm bands like frisbees. But I disgress, really this is a story about hair. Because you see, I must curl hair this season, not once, but for two different numbers. Trust me, I'd rather face a roomful of inquisitive 8 year-olds than La Nina's lovely hair armed with only hot rollers and a curling iron.

So, there I was Saturday after coaching the Magster's soccer game trying to muster the energy to curl La Nina's hair. One thing I've learned from past curling defeats is hair products are my friend. So I grabbed a bottle of mousse from the cupboard, sprayed into my hand and applied it liberally to La Nina shining black hair. After it was in her hair, I realized the mousse seemed a little off. It was thick. It didn't blend into her hair well. In fact, it looked a little blue. But no worries. I had to get the hot rollers in, so I started rolling her hair, but something wasn't right. Her hair felt stiff. It would almost pop right off of the hot roller. I figured the mousse was just old.

After I got her hair rolled, the Magster came in for me to roll her hair. (Because if I do hair once, I do it twice...just the rule of thumb.) I reached for the mousse again, but decided I should read the label. Shock of all shocks. I did not grab mousse after all. It was shaving cream. I had put a ton of shaving cream into La Nina's hair, brushed it in and hot rolled the whole mess. And worse yet, I had to have her Livermore with curly hair within the hour. What was a reluctant dance mother to do?

I decided to go with it. Nothing else really works on her hair, why not give the shaving cream a test run? I had nothing to lose. It wasn't like her hair was going to stay curly no matter what I did. Expectations are low for me to get Asian hair curled. Even the studio director gave me a "Do your best" pep talk. But you know what, it worked. Her hair curled as well as it ever has and it actually held. Of course, it did smell a bit odd and sort of crackled when I touched it, but it was curly and that was the requirement, so off to dance we went.

As the night wore on (did I mention we were there nearly 4 hours?), her hair did fade, but no worse than usual. It completely lost it's silky feel and frankly, it was a little sticky when she sweat, but otherwise, it worked sort of. Of course, the real problem came trying to wash it out. We lathered rinse and repeated for more than one day, but I think we're good now. Overall, I wouldn't recommend this method for curling hair, but it got us through the dress rehearsal. One down, four to go.

Footnote: Every dance season there's enough material to fill a book. Nutty stage mothers, dressing mishaps, hair disasters...you name it, it happens backstage at this competitions. This year, I'll make sure to tell the "Tales".

Chinese New Year

2010-02-22T20:18:00.000-08:00

Each year the Dad and I sponsor Chinese New Year celebrations in each of the girls' classes. I read a story, figure out a craft and usually we bring in some very tame dim sum for the kids to try. Most of the kids refuse it, but a few kids think it's the best day of the year.

This year had a totally different spin in La Nina's class. Her classmates were completely clued into the fact she's adopted from China. At 7, 8 and 9, kids have figured out she doesn't look like us. They've started asking questions, which are completely natural. And they've possibly developed some biases about race. This is a potentially scary time in La Nina's life.

This year before I went into the class, I put a load of thought into how to handle adoption questions should they come up. The first person I consulted was La Nina. I asked her if adoption came up, what would she like me to say?

"Nothing," she answered.

"Nothing?" I asked.

"Absolutely, nothing," she said certainly.

Okay, fair enough. It's her story. She should control what her class hears and if she says nothing, nothing it is. However, the reality is "nothing" would make kids more curious and I didn't want my answer to make her life worse, I wanted to make it better.

I talked to the Dad. We both agreed that whatever the questions were, our first priority should be La Nina's privacy. Yet I would have to acknowledge La Nina was adopted. These kids aren't dumb. If both the Dad and I are in a room with her, her adoption is pretty obvious. Our second priority should be to send the message La Nina was loved dearly. But how to get all that across to a group of squirmy kids? I didn't want to talk over their heads. I didn't want to sound like a stiff boring grownup. I wanted to gently persuade them adoption was okay. I wanted them to know that it was okay to ask questions, and I wanted La Nina to know it's okay not to answer questions. Yikes, how to do this in 3 minutes or less? The whole thing made me want to cancel the party, but I knew La Nina was looking forward to it.

I spent the hour before our party running through scenarios, and when I finally came up with my spin, I actually practiced it two or three times in front of the mirror. I was hopeful that I was wrong. That the kids wouldn't ask me anything and it would be standard Chinese New Year party.

Yet as soon as I sat down to read my book about how the Chinese Zodiac was put together, a kid asked if La Nina was adopted. So, here's my answer for all the adoptive parents who read this blog. After I said this, La Nina blushed but I received not one other question on anything but Chinese New Year. (Because this is written, it sounds much better than it did when I delivered it.)

"I'm not here to discuss how La Nina joined our family. We consider that a private matter. But let me tell you something about adoption in general. Adoption is a very special and a really cool thing. La Nina's Dad and I are very lucky to have gotten the chance to adopt not once, but twice. We are very proud La Nina and her sister are our daughters and we love them very, very much."

La Nina later told me she like my answer and in the end, that's all that matters.

PS I asked the Magster how to handle the same questions if I got them. (This was theoretical, we had already had her party and there were no issues.) She said next year she wants to bring her photo album, her quilt, her adoption certificate, her referral pictures, etc. Privacy was the least of her concerns. I don't know if that makes it easier or harder.

Art Class

2010-02-10T21:04:00.000-08:00

Today was Maggie's first ever art class. I've wanted to enroll her in art since she was 3, but there was always some reason not to. I had her in a small art class this summer and she loved it, so finally, I found something that fit our schedule.

When I first told Maggie about the art class, she was totally excited. When we went to sign up for the class and the teacher told her how glad she was to finally have a girl in the class, Maggie's face fell. She's in a class with all boys.

Maggie has never been a fan of the opposite gender. Oh, she loves her dad and her grandpas, but after that, she gets iffy. And boys in her class? There is no lower form of life. It isn't like she hates boy, that would require emotion. She completely dismisses them. She doesn't learn their names, she doesn't play with them, she doesn't speak to them unless she absolutely has to. She always questions whether or not boys need to be included. Do they really have to go on field trips? Why must they eat lunch with her? And recess, really, can't they have their own? She'd be the perfect candidate for an all girls school if they had one.

So, off we went to art this afternoon. All Maggie can talk about is the fact, she's the only girl. She was so bitter I thought I wouldn't get her in the studio. Finally, she walked in, put on her apron and sat down at an easel. As the boys filtered in, her lips pursed as if she'd eaten a lemon. Until the teacher broke out the paints, then it was nothing but smiles.

I'll post her first piece of work when it's done. It wasn't dry at the end of class and when I picked up Maggie, she and her teacher were staring at the work. The teacher was asking Maggie if it needed more depth and Maggie's head was bobbing along. In the end, she asked if she could go back everyday. When I asked about the boys, she gave me a blank look, "Mom, I don't have to talk to them." Do you think I can quote her on all of this when she's 15? I hope so.

The Lowest Rung

2010-01-31T19:27:00.000-08:00

This is the official sign that I'm at the lowest rung of Stage Motherdom. I'm now the proud owner of a Dream Duffel. This not-so-little gem is the hallmark of a stage mother. It's a duffle bag. It's a costume rack. It's an ice chest. It even has a stool.

I've resisted buying one of these for 9 months, but staring down the barrel of another dance season I knew I had to do something. The reason: Carly has to make a costume AND hair change this competition season. Yep that's right, we've got curly hair one minute and a bun another. And I sort of panicked. I mean, how could I do that with a couple of garment bags and a curling iron? SO- I started watching what other mothers use. This bag caught my attention.

First, I loved that I could use it as a screen for La Nina to change behind. I simply extend the telescoping arms, hang a towel and she's got a little privacy, not that she cares. Then there was the stool. Do you know how many hours I can end up standing back stage waiting for costume changes? It can be HOURS. Now, let's talk about the ability to organize. There are pockets for the shoes (sometimes as many pairs of shoes as costumes), pockets for accessories (no costume is only one piece) and a plastic case for make-up. This is a dance mother's dream.

Alas, the down side is the weight. It's easily 40 lbs empty. I have no problem moving it around empty, I haven't tried to move it once it's filled. But I've seen many a dad hauling these babies to the stage door, where the mom grabs it and takes it the rest of the away.

Of course, it also a sign, I'm finally accepting dance is La Nina's passion and probably will be for some time. She's already talking about next year and it's only going to get more complicated s time passes. Until she's old enough to handle the hair, make up and costumes, I'm her support team and I may as well be comfortable doing it.

Straight from the Mouth of Babes...

2010-01-25T20:26:00.000-08:00

Tonight over dinner, the Dad was cracking himself up. The Magster brought up carbon dioxide and the Dad went to town with every bad environmentalist joke.

He called the Magster a risk to global warming because she was breathing out carbon dioxide, he told the Magster her emissions would have to be regulated, he even went so far as to tell her, "You're a green house gas producer every time you exhale. "

The quizzical look crossed the Magster's face and she innocently asked, "What's that?"

The Dad answered, "Green house gases are the gases that cause global warming."

The Magster thought for a minute, then answered, "Dad, does that mean your butt is green? Is that why it's green gas?"

The Dad had no answer for that comeback and I'll never be able to listen to the theories on the ozone layer again with a straight face.

New Eyes

2010-01-19T20:40:00.000-08:00

If you have good eye sight or had good eye sight until you were in your 40's I hope you are grateful. I've struggled with my eyes since middle school when I put on a friend's glasses and realized you were supposed to see every leaf on a tree, not just blurry green things at the end of each branch. But I've hit a new low in my ongoing vision struggles.

When I finally got glasses my sophomore year of high school, I was thrilled to see. Yet, I quickly learned, glasses had their draw back. They steam up sometimes, slip off your face when you get sweaty and generally, get in the way of any activity from hiking to softball...and don't even think about playing soccer in glasses. Sunglasses are impossible unless they are prescription too. So, by my senior year, I was trying contacts.

But they too had draw backs. First I had to touch my eyes. Ick. Then I had to get used to having something in my eye all the time. Ugh. Then, I had to take care of them. Boring. Why couldn't I just have good eyes?

I even went so far as surgery in my quest for good eyes. In the late nineties, I had Lasiks. Honestly, it was the best thing I ever did. For a good five years, I had twenty-twenty vision. Yes, I had the halo effect at night for a year or so, but it went away. But I didn't care. I could see my alarm clock in the morning. I could wear regular sunglasses. I could snorkel without getting a special mask for blind people. It was a miracle.

Alas with my 40th birthday, my eyes began changing again and not the way you think. I didn't start stretching my arms to read things or complaining about the lack of light, street signs started getting blurry again. I was so bummed. I got glasses and I only had to wear them for driving for a while, but my eyes kept getting worse and soon I was wearing them all the time.

So, in the full circle leap of the century, I'm back to contacts. I think it's my 5th go round with contacts? Something like that. When I went for my fitting last week, I had the lenses in my eyes before the woman even started explaining how to do it. And man, it was great. I could see across the room. I could read the eye chart. Free at last from glasses again. I could dance with joy. Then a little problem cropped up.

I couldn't read the fine print on the brochure. Damn! If it isn't one thing, it's another. I'm happy to report, I passed the close up reading pass with the contacts in. BUT, it was close. So, what am I going to resort to now? Reading glasses with contacts? I tell you, getting old bites.

Getting Worked

2010-01-12T21:01:00.000-08:00

Every Monday, the Magster takes piano lessons. She is probably the only kid in the country who begged me to take piano lessons and says that Mondays are her favorite day because it is piano day.

This Monday, she had music theory homework. Now, you have to know, when it comes to practicing the piano, the Magster plays probably 20-30 minutes a day without me or the Dad asking. But when it comes to music theory, oy vey, she's not a happy camper. She whines, she complains, she procrastinates. Her usual style is to wait until minutes before her lesson begins, then with much goading, she'll struggles through the assignment. She's only 6, so who can blame her for feeling reluctant about reading music?

Yesterday it was the typical pre-piano rush. As she sat at the counter, shoulders slouched and eyes downcast, I hovered over her reminding her the notes between the lines in treble clef spelled FACE and the notes between the lines in bass clef spelled ACES. She just couldn't keep things straight. After 20 minutes her head hit on the counter and she couldn't even remember the alphabet to G. It was too hard, she said. So, I took a big step back and quit pushing it. She looked at the book a few minutes longer, asked for some milk and before she could take a drink her teacher was at the door.

The best part of having in home piano lessons is I get to listen. So, I hear the teacher ask Maggie about her homework and she squeaks out it isn't done. I'm waiting for the teacher to bust her. I have to admit, I'm a little gleeful. Simply because with me she wasn't even trying. The teacher begins to quiz her. I'm in the kitchen practically jumping for joy.

"What's this note?"

The Magster, "A"

"And the second up from that note?"

"C"

"The second down?"

"F".

On and on it went. The darn kid didn't miss a friggin' note. She's firing off notes to the teacher like she's Mozart. She's got the bass clef right, the treble clef, she even throws in a flat. She's getting the note counts correct, even the rests. With me, I would have sworn my daughter couldn't spell her own name, let alone read a note of sheet music. Now she's ripping through her music theory like it's finger painting.

The ultimate was when the teacher asked her to site read a line of music and the Magster played it flawlessly. See if I ever try to help her with her music theory homework again. She worked me. Cearly, she doesn't need my help when it comes to music. After 5 years of playing the flute, I never could site read with any competency.

The Ten Meal Morning

2010-01-05T20:19:00.000-08:00

My last food post was tongue and cheek, then today happened and I just had to continue the thread...

The sign of a good morning is when I've made 10 meals before I walk out the door: 3 breakfasts, 3 lunches and 4 dinners. This morning counted as a great morning. I made breakfast for the girls and I, lunches for the girls and I and put dinner in the crock pot. FYI: Since the Dad is an adult, he doesn't get breakfast or lunch, only dinner. He's a little bitter about my policy, but this is how life is for him. I can only do so much.

Dinner this morning was easy. A little chicken cacciotore in the crock pot: 4 thighs, 4 drumsticks, some tomato sauce, onions, kalamata olives (I know, I didn't have bell peppers or mushrooms) and garlic. Set the thing on low and behold, the traditional italian hunters stew is ready upon my return from work. I carefully set up the crock pot, layering the chicken and the sauce like the recipe described. I adjusted the temperature, plugged the thing in, then packed up the kids, the lunches, the homework, the water because La Nina has PE every Tuesday and headed to work with a hop in my step because I didn't have to worry about dinner tonight.

Tuesdays I almost always use my crock pot. La Nina leaves for dance 45 minutes after I get home from work, so it's really the only way I can feed us all so quickly. Sometimes I use leftovers on Tuesdays, but I find left overs work better in the week when I more frazzled.

At work, I have a standing Tuesday meeting with the same group of people. All of these people happen to be working moms and every single time we get together one of us is getting text messages, phone calls or emails we are sure our male counterparts do not receive. We've gotten questions about homework, the location of dishtowels, the status of babysitters and the reports on vomit when someone's kids has the stomach flu. No one in the room judges the recipient of these messages as at any moment you are likely to receive the next text. Today, it was my turn.

The first message arrived at about 3pm from the Dad: "Is the crock pot supposed to be hot?" I read this and thought...hmmmm...that doesn't sound good. Since I was in a meeting and technically supposed to be paying attention to the topic, not my phone, I answered "in a meeting". A second later, the next message came in: "Major crock pot malfunction. I'll deal with dinner."

With the second text, I was officially no longer listening to the meeting. Why would my stupid crock pot not work? I hope I didn't forget to plug it in again. What can he make in 30 minutes? Should I stop by the store on the way home? Couldn't he have checked it earlier? For crying out loud, what am I going to do with 8 raw pieces of chicken that have been out of the refrigerator for 6 hours? On and on my mind twisted like a limp piece of spaghetti in a strong wind. My great morning was ruined by a silly $30 appliance. How annoying. Depression and defeat set in.

Finally, I noticed there was a pause in the meeting and I looked around the room to find two sets of eyes staring at me like I was supposed to provide input on something, but what I had no idea. So I made up some semi-intelligent statement about doubling timelines and tripling budgets. I'm a project manager. Nine times out of ten, all people want me to tell them is how much it's going to cost and how long it's going to take. Of course, this is all they wanted to know as they carried on with me completely distracted by the disaster at home.

Once I got there, I discovered that my crock pot had indeed died. I guess I should be grateful it didn't happen Saturday night when I was using it for a party. The Dad had pulled a major advanced housekeeping trick in the kitchen and found some leftovers in the freezer. Dinner was saved by some frozen pork, Trader Joe's rice and a bag of broccoli. Thank goodness he was around this afternoon or it would have been canned soup and a couple of stale saltines for the four of us. He didn't gloat despite his success. May be I'll make him breakfast tomorrow.

A Day of Disorganized Cooking

2009-12-29T21:16:00.001-08:00

I just finished reading Julie and Julia: A Year of Cooking Dangerously. In case you haven't heard of the book or the movie, it's about a secretary in New York City who decides to add some spice in her life by cooking her way through Julia Child's masterpiece: Mastering the Art of French Cooking (or something like that).

I'd give the book a B-/C+. I get the book's premise, Julie was 29, unhappy at work and cooking her way through this cookbook and blogging about it gave her a purpose and helped her discover a new passion: writing. But I never really cared about her journey. And frankly, I didn't think the writer successfully got across her growth.

But this book has got me thinking. What would it be like if I blogged about food? Everyday in my kitchen is a day of cooking dangerously. Or at least cooking adventurously. Or may be it's just cooking in a disorganized fashion. I try so hard to be organized, but it never fails I leave an ingredient off the shopping list or someone eats the main ingredient before I use it or I forget to defrost something before I leave for work or I get home and find the kids are munching on Taco Bell, because they were so starving they couldn't wait. So in honor of the book, here's my food blogger entry, because as hard as I try, the perfect family dinner is as elusive as the perfect school morning. But I can always dream.

For Christmas, I got a brand new bread maker. I've always wanted one. Just the thought of the bulky bread maker sitting on my counter brings on fantasies of the aroma of fresh baked bread hitting me as I walk in from work. Somehow, if only I could make fresh bread, I'd be not only a better person, but a better mother. I'd be feeding my children something without preservatives or other chemicals: just flour, water, yeast and a little sugar. Any mother worth her salt wants to feed her children home made bread over store bought bread as often as possible and this bread maker was my ticket to that higher tier of motherhood.

As I was running out the door this morning, I put on my first batch of bread. I set the delay timer so it would be done right at 5:30pm. Then, I patted myself on the back so hard my shoulder ached, because we were going to have fresh bread for dinner, thanks to my brilliant planning. See, I could ice skate with the kids all day in SF and still feed them something fresh baked when we got home. Martha Stewart will be calling me for tips oh how to do it all, I thought as I closed the front door.

The whole way home from the city the kids and I talked about the bread. We were going to smell it as soon as we walked in. Dinner was going to be simple: left over chicken, fresh bread and fruit. We could dip the bread in the sauce from the chicken. Yum. We could slather it with butter. May be it would be so good we didn't need butter or sauce. Yum. Yum. We were all excited. My heart even raced a little as I opened the door and drew a deep breath. I smelled pine, some remnants of last night's chicken and nothing else. I ran to the bread maker and peered into the top window. It was ugly. It worked, but not right. The bottom half of the loaf was a dense mass of pastry, the top half was unblended flour. No fluffy white loaf to dip in our tomato sauce. No call from Martha. I was still just a disorganized, forgetful mother. I could see the shame written all over the kids faces.

How could this be? I followed the directions, measured carefully, heck, I even made a little well for the yeast. What could have gone wrong? Then I noticed it: The basket was crooked. I hadn't snapped it into place. I think I heard one of the girls softly whimper as I dumped the mess into the trash. Dinner ended up being a breadless affair: can of soup and a couple of quesadillas. I let the kids eat in front of the television. Really, how could I get passionate about the food when in fact, it was just a typical dinner? Perhaps I'll try it again. Now, I just need to remember to add flour to the shopping list.

A Letter to My Children

2009-12-16T20:55:00.000-08:00

Dear Baby Girls-

Well, you should know as of today, I'm official at the end of my rope. Yep. I'm holding on by a thread and it isn't pretty. How did it happen? Well, I'm not 100% sure, but I think it's partially the job, partially motherhood and partially the holidays. Since I don't know exactly the cause, let me just describe how I know I've lost it.

Complete disregard for double checking facts: It's true Maggie, you were within two hours of being kicked out of school because I had a fact wrong. I assumed that I had until the end of first grade to turn in your health care check form to the school nurse. I don't know where I got that fact, but I just knew I had time. Until the school nurse called me at school on December 1 and told me if she didn't have the form by 2:30 that afternoon, you couldn't go to school the next day. Sure, they'd sent me mail, but I knew I had to turn in the form by June 11, so why read the mail? Who has time? This is a symptom.

Inability to read eVites: Yes, girls, I no longer seem to be able to read eVites. If an invitation isn't in writing, chances are I'm going to get something wrong. I may write it on my calendar wrong, I may read it wrong, I may just forget. My most recent episode happened on the weekend of 12/5. I was invited to a baby shower. I wrote on my calendar on Sunday, the invitation clearly read Sunday, yet I woke up Saturday morning just knowing I had a baby shower. Well, I went to the house and I was the only person there. I was a day early. Yes, I was embarrassed, but more than anything I was exasperated with myself. This was the second mess up in less than a week. Just another sign, life is out of control.

Failure to keep appointments: Today was by far the lowest I have sunk. I agreed to take 2 neighbors to and from school. I dutifully put it on my calendar: Pick up neighbors at 9:15. The sitter was picking up from school. I made sure she knew the details, sent her their address, she was set. Then, this morning dawned, the neighbor called early to report a mountain lion sighting happened in his yard. In all the excitement, I left for work, right on time at 8am. I got to work, was happily heading to a meeting at 9:30, when my phone rang. "Maggie's mom, when are you coming to get me?" GULP. I totally forgot. Yep, there it was on my calendar, but I didn't look at it. Rush, rush, call the Dad. He saved the days and got the neighbors to school.

So, you see, three times in just over two weeks, I made a major screw up. Dear children, times are tough for your dear old mother. I'd like to blame the holidays, the fact La Nina's class is doing Secret Santas and I need to have a little gift for her everyday, the fact that today is La Nina's 7th family day and Monday is the Dad's birthday, and Saturday is La Nina's Nutcracker. Oh and Christmas is a week away. Oh and I need to remember to take a dessert to Maggie's class on Saturday, a salad to the party on Sunday and the white elephant to the exchange on Monday. I'm just not managing it all so well these days.

So, please remember to do your homework, keep track of your dance shoes and practice your piano. 'Cuz your dear old Mom can't keep her own life together these days.

Love-

Mom

Giving Tree

2009-11-27T22:04:00.000-08:00

Every year, I sponsor a family from our school as part of the "giving tree". Our school is the only "Title One" school in our home town and has the largest percentage of kids in the city on the school lunch program. (Title One means that our school receives additional federal money due to a high percentage of students who are from low income households.)

When I pick a family, I try to find a family that has girls about the same age as my girls so they can participate in the giving experience. So, today the three of us hit the stores today to do the shopping for our kids. This year we had 3 girls, aged 3, 8 and 9 to buy for. The older girls asked for bikes, but when the girls and I discussed the option of only buying bikes and nothing else or getting several smaller gifts, they agreed we should do something smaller.

Of all the years we've done this, La Nina finally got it this year. Sure, she shopped mostly for herself, but she wrapped the gifts and asked lots of questions about what it meant to be "poor". She actually understood why we can't know the names of the kids we're helping and why we don't sign our names on their cards. Her only struggle was why Santa didn't just give those kids more gifts, but she accepted that Santa likes to be fair.

The Magster was very involved this year too. She asked lots of questions and was very worried about the kids not having enough food. (Given that she doesn't eat, I found this interesting.) Her biggest struggle was not signing the cards. I tried to explain we do this not to get credit or thank you's, but just to share the Christmas spirit and some of our gratitude for all that is good in our lives with others less fortunate. She wasn't buying my explanations. Finally, in frustration, La Nina shouted, "Maggie, they aren't going to give us anything back." The Magster's face fell. Sometimes giving is hard to understand when you're only 6.

Last year, La Nina didn't get understand this whole process, so I know the Magster is about a year away from understanding all of this. I only hope that doing these little projects will help my kids grow into caring, giving adults who are grateful for the goodness in their lives...no matter what the circumstances.

Little Moments

2009-11-20T21:31:00.000-08:00

On Monday night I won an auction to earn my kids the right to be the first kids to skate on the new outdoor rink in town. These tickets allowed the lucky kids to be two of the first five people on the ice. So, it was sort of a cool thing. At least I thought it was sort of a cool thing. Last night was the big night. So, we hauled the kids downtown for their big skate.

Now, my kids can ice skate. We go a couple of times a year, so they aren't total rookies, but they aren't great either. But they can make their way around the ice without clinging to the edge as if it were a life boat in the middle of the ocean, but they never emerge from the ice rink without wet knees and a wet bottom. No problem I thought. Sharky, the mascot for the San Jose Sharks will be there as will a couple of Shark players, the girls can grab their hands. They'll make the lap.

I broke the big surprise to the kids on the way to the rink and La Nina started complaining. I don't want to go out there. I don't want to skate. Everyone will look at me. I don't want to do it. Her complaints were many, long and loud. The Magster on the other hand asked if she had to hold hands with the Shark players, I told her No, but they would help her (and how many other women in the world would kill to hold hands with a professional hockey player?). She said she would be fine alone...and that was the end of the discussion for her.

We got to the rink and La Nina was still complaining. Given the passion she was putting into her complaints, we knew she wouldn't take the ice. So, hey, first five skaters, big honor, surely we could find someone who wanted La Nina's ticket. The first person we approached was perfect. Her niece, 8, had lost her Mom suddenly in May. The little girl had been moved from Colorado to our city after her mother's death. Poor kid, lost her Mom, then had to change her entire life within a couple of weeks. But the little girl had been a trooper and six months later she was settling in. This was the perfect reward. We happily handed the little girl La Nina's ticket and helped Maggie get in position to take the ice.

In the end, everyone was happy. The Magster was led around the ice, not by a boy, but by two lovely ice dancers who happened to be girls. La Nina watched from the side boards while her sister took the first lap. And we were not mad at La Nina for bailing on our big surprise, because our friend's niece's smile was a delight to see.

Two Different Views

2009-11-09T18:47:00.000-08:00

Well, we survived La Nina's big weekend in Disneyland. She spent part of Friday, all of Saturday and most of Sunday back stage or dancing with the Disney choreographers. We spent the time she was gone either hitting rides she doesn't like, which is most of the rides, or waiting for her. The funny thing about the whole weekend is that while we thought it was perfectly dreadful, she completely loved it.

Friday, La Nina had a call time of 3pm. That meant she had to be completely ready to dance and at a designated place in Disneyland (Princess Fantasy Faire) at 3pm...not a minute late. SO, I left the park early, fed her, did her hair and makeup, packed up her costume and shoes and made it to the meeting point about 10 minutes early. She was marched off at 3pm and we were supposed to pick her up at 6:30. We knew she was required to bring a snack, which meant she wouldn't be getting dinner and we knew she was getting pictures taken and participating in a dress rehearsal, but otherwise, we really didn't know what she was doing.

While she was gone, we rode some rides and finally, I headed back to the meeting spot at 6:15. No kids. 6:30. No kids. At 7pm, Disney came out and told the waiting parents, it would be another 3o minutes. Finally, at 8:15 out came our little dancer. Now, I'm thinking, she has an early call time, she hasn't eaten, this is miserable. She came out hungry, but smiling. She told us about the side of the street she'd be on and how she made some new friends and she showed off her new pom-poms. Her dance teacher was really cool. Okay, quick dinner, off to bed we all go. We have an 8:45am call time the next morning for filming and a pick up time of noon.

Up early, hair, make up, packing repeat, quick breakfast, shuttle her off to the drop off point on time. As we're walking into Disneyland, we see throngs of people already lining Main Street to watch the filming scheduled for 10am, so we get stuck sitting on Main Street, because we want to see La Nina. The director comes out and explains he wants to wait for sun. So, we wait. The Dad shows up and he joins our wait. Some friends from group 96 show up, they start waiting. La Nina is backstage, so she's not waiting. Just us. Waiting. We debate the side of the street she's going to be on, we decide not to move and we wait some more. At 11am, the dancers march in along Main Street, looking absolutely adorable. I make a complete fool of myself yelling at the wrong kid and finally find my kid on the opposite side of the street. And we wait some more. Finally, the director yells action, kids start dancing and La Nina barely makes it to where we're sitting when the director yells cut and backs the kids up for another take. This happens 3 times. The Magster, the Dad and the friends bail. I switch sides of the street. As soon as I do this, the Disney folks reposition La Nina to the center, where I can barely see her. Director says it's a wrap at noon and we run off to pick up the kids.

Now, La Nina's second call time on Saturday is 2:45. All the moms are waiting for our kids because we have to feed them. 12:30 comes and goes, 1pm comes and goes. The moms are getting nervous. Food lines are long and we have another call time. Where are the kids? Finally, at 1:40 out come the kids. We grab the kids, run to the closest eatery, feed them on Disney meal cards, buy them more snacks for backstage and hit our second call time at 2:45pm. I'm tired, but La Nina goes bounding backstage as if the world's greatest shoe emporium were waiting for her. The big parade is at 6pm. This is the next time we'll see her.

As parade time approaches, we start strategizing on where best to watch her from. We decide on the side of the Matterhorn as there are benches and no crowds. We get spots on the correct side of the street, get the Magster a hot dog to stop the whining and again we wait. This time, everything is on time, no director to yell cut and the kids dance by. All the kids except ours. We search and we search. We can't find her. Finally, near the end of the 300 dancers on the opposite side of the street we see her beaming smile. She's having the time of her life. She shoots us a toothless grin and shakes her groove thing as she goes. Once she's past, we move to watch the real parade. I keep an eye on the time as I have another pick up at 7:30. Right at 7:30 out emerges my daughter, hungry but bubbling over with excitement. The Dad and the Magster have headed back to the room to get food ordered and La Nina and I make our way out of the park. As we're walking she casually mentions "oh, there were some dancers back stage tonight, they danced and talked about being dancers." I think she's talking about her friends, ask no questions and keep walking. I find out later it was Cheryl Burke and Tony from Dancing with the Stars. They did a demo and gave the girls a pep talk. No wonder she didn't complain about missing dinner.

Sunday. Worst call time yet: 7:30 am. The morning starts with La Nina refusing make up. She exhausted. I'm fine with her not dancing, but think she needs to come with me to tell her teacher. We leave the room, she immediately perks up. I put on her make up at the meeting spot. Off she goes again.

The Dad, the Magster and I have volunteered to be extras this morning. We're led into the park at 8am and head straight back to New Orleans Square. We're positioned in an alley, where Anika Noni Rose is going to sing the theme song to the Princess and the Frog and we're going to dance behind a band. At about 9am, this starts, but the singer only sings a couple sentences of the song and we end up walking may be 10 feet tops. We all back up and do it again, and again, and again. I stop liking directors. I think they are mean and evil people. The Magster loses it after the 3rd take and we end up sitting behind a wall. She's playing games on my iPhone. Now, I know that at 11am, I'm supposed to pick up La Nina and she's done for the weekend. So, we sneak out of the filming to find out what's happening with La Nina.

The Magster and I find her group. She's out on the SS Mark Twain waving a ribbon for the same promotion video we're extras for. It's a bad replay of the day before. Except we can't find her and decide she must be on the far side of the boat where we can't see her. 11am comes and goes, and they haven't shot the boat. Noon comes and goes, no boat shots. About 12:30 the singer is moved out to the boat for close ups. La Nina is on the 3rd floor, the singer is on the first floor. She never sees the singer. The boat shots finally happen around 1pm. La Nina has been on the boat for 4 hours by then. I'm worried she hasn't had food, water or a potty. It's sort of warm and she's wearing black. Yikes, this is going to be ugly. The silver lining I'm starting to see is that may be this will discourage her dreams of being a professional dancer. Maybe she'll play soccer again next year, this has been so miserable. The weekend has been tedious at best. Surely, any child will realize this show business thing is really awful.

But when she comes off the boat at 1:30, it's not what I expected. She's made new friends on the boat. One of the cast members discovered her Spanish and began speaking to her only in Spanish. She's been assigned a 5 year old to help...she's had a grand time. Oh, and that teacher she was talking about, turns out it was one of the dancers from High School Musical. And oh, she was learning some cool dance moves. No, she's had a great time. What exactly is my problem? No, she'd go back again next weekend if she could and frankly, mom, I don't know why you thought it was soooo boring. Clearly we were not at the same event.

The good news is her studio only does this once every three years, but at the moment that sounds way too soon for me..

Behind the Veil

2009-11-04T21:14:00.000-08:00

Well, it's a big weekend ahead for La Nina. She will be dancing in the Disney Christmas Parade this weekend at Disneyland. But before you get excited, there isn't actually a Christmas parade this weekend. They are filming parts of the parade that will be shown on Christmas morning on ABC.

Not only will she be dancing down Main Street USA dressed as a snowgirl, she'll also have the opportunity to go back stage and practice her dance in the huge back lot area. This is going to be the most interesting part of the show for La Nina. She'll be allowed back into the areas that are off limits to regular park goers. She'll practicing in the same dance studio as many pretty princesses. She'll probably get a pretty good understanding of how to navigate the park from behind the scenes. I know where the drop off location is, and I know where the parade starts. The two places are not even in the same "Lands".

She's also be held accountable to some pretty strict guidelines for her appearance in the park. She's to arrive at pick up and drop off points with hair and make up done, but not in her costume. We're not allowed to carry any sort of a garment bag, yet her costume and performance shoes must be concealed. (The challenges never end for dance mothers.) We drop her off and meet her at designated locations in the park, but we're not allowed to assist her backstage. When she's backstage she's with her teachers and Disney staff.

After the filming is complete on Saturday, she gets a couple of hours off, then she's backstage again getting ready for the big parade that night. Then on Sunday, she's participating in the filming of a promotional video for the new Princess and the Frog movie. (The Dad, the Magster and I will be extras in this one.)

I'm so happy La Nina gets the chance to do something like this. It's such an incredible opportunity for her to do the thing she loves in a place she loves to visit. She's going to have such a great time.

Don't feel sorry for her this weekend either. She's getting a trip to Disneyland and she's getting rid of her chicken sister for several hours every day. That means the Magster gets to go on the rides she wants, when she wants. Matterhorn, Pirates, Haunted House, Splash Mountain, maybe even Space Mountain...all the rides her sister hates. Come to think of it, I think the Magster is more excited about this trip than La Nina.

Missed a few things...

2009-10-23T20:43:00.000-07:00

I never wished the Magster a happy 6th birthday. Actually her birthday is the reason I didn't get anything written. We were too busy celebrating or catching up on homework because we spent too much time celebrating. The Magster was totally spoiled on her birthday. I brought her home a Noah's Coffee cake for breakfast, then her Dad and I took Jamba Juices into

her class to celebrate. We surprised her with a Happy Meal for lunch and then hit her favorite Mexican place for dinner. She said it was the best day ever!

I also want to mention that I celebrated my 5th year blogging this month. It's hard to believe that five years after all the pre-adoption, China and post adoption angst I'm still writing about my crazy life. It's also amazing how far we've come. From the days of two kids under 3 to school days, sometimes I need to reread my early posts to remind myself of how out of control those early days were.

While things used to be out of control, today things are more in the state of controlled chaos. Between dance, soccer and other commitments, it seems like there is never a dull moment, but you know, I'm really not one who likes dull moments. Of course, I could use a little quiet every now and then. But now that Maggie has her very own karoake machine, there will no quiet either.

Spin Control

2009-10-13T21:26:00.000-07:00

I volunteered in the Magster's class for the first time last week and had this conversation with a little friend of Maggie's.

Friend: Are you Maggie's Mom?

Me: Yes

Friend: Is it true that you flew all the way to China just to pick up Maggie?

Me: Yes

Friend: Whoa, that's so cool. My Mom didn't have to go anywhere to get me.

After I stopped giggling, I had to give my daughter a big hug. The spin was all her. I've never made it sound like a big deal that we flew to China to pick her up. In fact, I'm not even sure how she figured out it's a big deal to fly to China. Regardless, with her ability to spin a story, I'm sure Obama will be looking for her soon.

The New Recruits

2009-10-06T21:44:00.000-07:00

Parenthood is so different today than I remember it for my parents. First, there's the whole homework thing that I know my parents never had to deal with. But there's another big change for parents today: Mandatory Volunteer Requirements.

Just about every organization our kids participate in requires parents to donate time to support their efforts. Now I know my parents volunteered, my Dad was big in soccer and my Mom was a room mom more than once. But today it's different. It's every single thing and many organizations require parent attendance at various meetings.

A sampling of my commitments above and beyond work and family includes: Soccer Coach; Scholastic Book coordinator for two classrooms; this month I'm on the preparation team for the kids Faith Formation class plus I'll spend an hour in the Magster's class on Friday. The Dad also gets in on the volunteer act. He'll be in La Nina's class tomorrow and at soccer practice tomorrow.

On top of this, we must attend Faith Formation with the kids monthly, plus First Eucharist preparation classes for both girls (La Nina's in 2nd year, the Magster's in 1st year). So, that's another three hours a month that one of us must attend a meeting with a child. And each program mandates parents volunteer in some capacity, adding even more hours.

It's not that I don't want to help, I do. It's just there's a limit. And it's not like soccer season is just a "bad time." When this ends, dance starts and that lasts through March. Supporting one dancer is just as demanding as coaching an entire soccer team. Trust me on this.

I don't know what the answer is to this situation. You want your kids to know their efforts are supported, so I guess parents today just sleep less. It's just sometimes you have to wonder if all the volunteer time is really needed or if the folks running all these organizations have so many volunteer obligations, they need help!

Second Grade Again

2009-09-20T21:03:00.000-07:00

When La Nina entered 2nd grade, we heard rumors: "Be prepared, 2nd grade is tough." "Whoa, that was our hardest year in the program", "We barely survived 2nd grade." So, I felt some trepidation about this year.

The reason for these warnings: HOMEWORK. One month into the year, I feel the pain. Each week La Nina has 15 spelling words to memorize, 2-3 verbs to conjugate, 20 minutes of reading a night, plus a page or two of math every night. Here's the kicker: on top of all of this, this week she has a 2 minute presentation all in Spanish, complete with artifacts to support her presentation (aka props).

Her topic: A favorite hobby, sport or activity. Okay, from my point of view, talking two minutes on dance, this should be easy. Her perspective: talking in front of the class, completely embarrassing.

Well, she started writing the speech on Friday night and got about a minute of material. Saturday, she got the other minute and tonight she made her "props". (Pictures of herself at dance, mounted on construction paper.) Now, she's spent probably 4-5 hours working on this, and it isn't even her homework. And the amount of parental intervention required is brutal. We had to help her pick a topic-- her original idea was tennis: a sport she's never played or seen. We had to help her write the speech. "But what do I say?" to which we answered with lots of leading questions. Then, we had to talk about what a prop could be and help her narrow her options. While all of this occurred, we completed no homework. It's over the top.

Now, we're starting the week, with zero homework completed and a presentation nearly in the bag. I now see why all those parents were warning me. It's going to be a long couple of years. (The Magster does this next year.)

Life of a Working Mom

2009-09-08T22:07:00.000-07:00

Thought I'd post this thought, I've known this for years, but today confirmed it: Stay at home moms have it easier than working moms. I know there's a big debate, but in my mind is clear. Here's my proof. From work today, I did the following tasks:

Through an email, reminded the Dad of the dance dress code, of homework procedures and dinner plans.

Took a call regarding the size of shirts the girls need from an organization we belong to.

Helped find a lost home work binder by text message while in a meeting.

Somehow I just don't think working men face the same challenges, and trust me, stay at home moms are completing these tasks and are not worried about launching 6 global web sites in two weeks.

A rare victory in parenthood

2009-09-02T21:45:00.000-07:00

La Nina has never been much of a reader. Oh, she reads like a champ, it's just never been pleasurable activity for her. I love to read, so I've always been a little bummed that she didn't just love books.

Recently the whole book thing has gotten worse. I'd pick up a chapter book to read and she'd leave the room. The Magster and I have read probably a dozen chapter books and La Nina has never listened to a single word. I've tried different books, I tried letting her read, I tried letting her pick the book and I got nowhere.

About 2 weeks ago, I started reading Charlotte's Web to Maggie. I didn't push it on La Nina, but slowly she started hanging around the doorway while I was reading. Then a couple of nights later, she was laying on the floor playing with a toy while I was reading. Then, slowly she climbed onto the bed to listen. I never mentioned her new attitude, but every night I was sure to tell both girls I was about to start reading.

Tonight we finished the last two chapters. I didn't want to read the sad chapter and not the happy ending. So, we started early. La Nina was into the ending from the moment I started the chapter. And when Charlotte was left alone in the barn, La Nina wept for her. To the point where the Magster leaned over and said, "It's only a book." (Magster had tears in her eyes too, it's just not her style to get weepy.)

Anyway, we finished the book and I asked the girls what the book was really about. And La Nina answered, "It's about friends, Mom. Charlotte and Wilbur were friends." Inside I gave a little cheer....La Nina got the book, she really got the book.

Then, La Nina asked if she could take the book to her room and read it again, by herself. Needless to say, I handed her the book and I let her read as late as she wanted. I credit Charlotte's Web as the book that made me fall in love with reading. I'm thrilled it hasn't lost the magic.

In other news...

2009-08-30T20:55:00.000-07:00

I've started to post a blog at least a dozen times since last week, but nothing posted because I was too tired or too distracted or interrupted by some task I forgot to do. May be this one will get out if I keep things short and sweet.

School started last week for the kids. The Magster's in first grade, La Nina in second. They both seem happy in their classes and are reconnecting with friends, learning new classroom routines and enjoying the resumption of their routines. We're optimistic both girls are going to have great years. The beginning of the school year was a bit anticlimactic for me as I've been working. So really, all it did was take a way a worry. I now know the girls are happy, the dad can work and the house will stay relatively clean all day long.

In other news, soccer is in full swing. I'm coaching the Magster's team again this year. Our team name is the Daffodils. After four practices, the girls are looking good. There's still a little confusion regarding which way to kick the ball, but that will continue for many weeks. The season doesn't kick off until September 12, but I predict we'll have a decent year.

In other news, we're eagerly awaiting the audition results for the Nutcracker. La Nina auditioned for her third performance this year. She's a bit worried she's going to be a gingerbread again or even worse, a mouse. I'm sort of hoping she's an angel or a reindeer, but we'll see Tuesday. I've learned anything can happen in those auditions.

In other news, we've been eating the results of our canning adventure and I have to say, the tomato sauce and crushed tomatoes are fantastic. The jam is good too, just somewhere between syrup and jam in terms of consistency. We're already thinking about next year and swearing to switch jam recipes.

I think that's it. There's laundry waiting on the bed for me, so I need to go fold it.

Like Pioneer Women

2009-08-17T21:02:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, my mom, my sister, both of my daughters and I decided to try something new. We decided to can. Yep, just like the women from the prairie days, we gathered in my kitchen along with 60 pounds of tomatoes, 6 pounds of blueberries and many pots of boiling water to preserve a bit of summer for the winter.

The girls were full participants in this endeavor. They washed, scored, blanched, peeled and diced many a fruit yesterday. Actually, I was a bit shocked they could participate at the level they did. Of course, Maggie thought no one worked harder than she did, and La Nina skipped out to buy ice and more jars with her Papa the first chance she got. But that's the nature of my daughters. They also learned first hand that tomatoes really go into tomato sauce and that lemon is a natural preservative. We also talked a lot about how canning was the only way some people ate fruits and vegetables during the winter. I don't think this lesson stuck, but we tried.

As much as we researched this adventure, we missed some of the finer points. For instance, those racks really help in the water baths when you install them correctly. The jar lifters work better when you aren't trying to lift jars with the handles. (We figured that one out late in the afternoon after dropping many jars.) The sound of lids popping is musical is a funny sort of way when you're tired. And no one feels like cooking much after canning all day.

What did we get for our efforts? We each received 8 jars of wonderful blueberry syrup. We were trying for jam, but something went array. However, the syrup tastes awesome. Our 18 bottles of crushed tomatoes look like pumpkin juice. (We used heirlooms...probably should have used romas.) Not sure if that worked out so well or not. Our 18 jars of tomato sauce are amazing. I had some for dinner last night. As long as those jars sealed right, we will be dining like queens and kings this winter.

Mostly, we had a wonderful intergenerational experience, I'm sure the girls will not forget. The whole experience was not difficult. Just time consuming and exhausting. And it's always nice to spend the day working on a project with family, sharing stories and laughing. We had so much fun, we hope to make it an annual event.

What's a mother to do?

2009-08-07T21:09:00.000-07:00

Well, La Nina is one week into her 2009-2010 dance season. She only had about 33 days off between seasons, but she was very ready to get back into the studio. Her first day in class she learned that we had passed on letting her participate in the studio's big production number and she's been mad as a hornet ever since.

Our studio's production number is quite a spectacle. It includes about 40 dancers ranging in age from 7 to 18. The girls practice together from about an hour a week and sometimes they have weekend practices as well. Usually our studio production number wins all kinds of awards. For La Nina, participating in this dance is recognition that she is no longer a little girl dancer. It screams that she's made it.

Our reasons for refusing the offer were quite simple. She's 7 and we felt 4 days of dance every week was too much. She already dances 3 days a week and I just wasn't ready to toss her in there with the teens. (I will say they are very nice girls...but still) She sees things a bit different. According to her, it's not fair that her friend (only one, I might add) is allowed to dance with the big girls and she is not. She's been carrying on all week about this terrible decision we've made and the lack of fairness in her life. Finally we told her case closed, no more discussion, but she still stewed in silence.

Fast forward to today. She had a friend over playing for most of the day. Of course, she forced her soccer playing friend into one of her old dance costumes and spent most of the day teaching the poor child an old routine...but whatever. They had fun. Tonight when I was tucking her into bed, I asked her if she had fun today. She agreed it was great to spend the day with her buddy. I pointed out to her the girls in the production number had a 4 hour rehearsal today and if she was in the production number, she couldn't have had the play date.

Her response: I'd rather dance than play. She said this in a tone that was completely matter of fact. I have no doubt she was telling me the truth. There wao manipulation attempted and intended. She then told me next year, she wants to do not only the production number but a competitive ballet piece (lyrical, for those of you familiar with dance). And while my head screamed "no way, kid," my mouth said we'll see.

The truth is I want her to be a little girl who happens to dance for a few more years, not a dancer who happens to be a little girl. However, she's definitely driving this cart hard down the dance path and at some point, we're going to have let her really explore this passion, I just hope it isn't next year. As it is, we've forced her to give up piano and soccer for dance. She was happy to oblige. She told me the other day, she'd give up school and her friends for dance if we let her. And I think she meant it.

I know there are some kids who find a passion very young and never waiver. I remember my friend's son at 3 being obsessed with basketball. At 13, he's playing on a State AAU team. My neighbor's son has never played any sport but baseball, by his choice, not theirs. Several of her dance teachers have told me they never tried other activities...not because their parents didn't encourage other activity, but because they had no interest in anything but dance. I hear all these stories and I think, sure that can happen. I just never thought it would be my kid and I'm really starting to fear it is.

My worries about this are so many. I'm worried she will burn out too young if she gets into deep to fast. I worry she'll get some sort of overuse injury if we let her dance without enough rest. I worry she'll miss out on little girl things like play dates and spontaneous trips to ice cream after school. Then I worry what happens if she changes her mind at 12 and regrets missing so many things when she was young. At the same time, what if she's creating the childhood she wants? And what if her vision of childhood only includes dance studios? What if she wants to pursue a career in dance as a studio owner or give Broadway a shot? Should we really be constraining her at 7 when the sky should be the limit? I think 7 is young, but then what is the right age? 9? 12? Man, it's tough.

I've always said I would support a child's passion and I mean it from the bottom of my heart. I support her wholeheartedly. And as she gets older, if she continues down this path, I see sending her to summer workshops and national competitions, if that's what she wants to do. But at 7, I wish she'd just slow down and enjoy being 7. She's got the rest of her life to pursue this whole dance thing.

Reunions

2009-08-02T21:33:00.001-07:00

For the second time in three weeks, we're just back from a travel group reunion. If you don't have the good fortune to belong to a travel group, a travel group is the complete strangers you are tossed together with in China when you adopt children together. What's funny is you know all the details of about their kids and very few details about the parents. But you know some very important things: you know, that a person was kind enough to loan you a blanket when you forgot one; you know that a person found a doctor for their child and then told you about it; you know that the mom cried harder than her daughter when they first saw each other.

Then, for the rest of your child's life you have this interesting tie: you know the most important things, but you have gaps. For instance, you often never find out what people do for a living. Sometimes you really aren't clear where people live. Sometimes, you don't know first names, because you've developed amusing nicknames.

Reunions are the times figure all this stuff out. Once a year or every the year, our groups gather and it's a chance for us to reconnect or sometimes connect for the first time. During this round of reunions, we learned that a dad we knew to be creatively talented sings and writes songs, then we were amazed when a big sister from a different family sat down and sang beautifully as well. We visited with a Mom who's fighting cancer and saw the embodiment of toughness and determination. And we had a giggle about someone's big secret.

But no matter what we learn, we learned the most important things in China. These are people who love their girls as much as we love ours. And ultimately, it's that love that is the common bond.

Updates

2009-07-30T21:59:00.000-07:00

In a meeting today with two other Moms, Woman A was getting emails (on her phone) about foil needed for a hot dog sale the next day, Woman B's husband was packing for vacation and couldn't find the swim goggles so he called, Woman C's husband texted wanting to know what was for dinner. Then we had a good laugh. How are we supposed to do business under these conditions? It was so pathetic.

Earlier that day, I received a video email from my family. The Magster lost her second tooth while eating lunch at the Hop Yard. She didn't swallow it as her Dad thought. It somehow fell from her mouth and landed under her chair where La Nina found it. She felt nothing, didn't bleed, it sort of just leapt out. How does this happen? It's a mystery.

Before I started my new job, the Dad bought me a new iPhone. Now, I'm not a gadget person. Prior to this phone, I regularly forgot my phone at home and left it uncharged, I was just pathetic. Now, I'm never without my phone. I love it. I've used the GPS to find the skating rink, I use the grocery gadget to keep one shopping list for the Dad and I to coordinate the grocery shopping, I actually text all the time, I get email at work (if you use the right account), I frankly, don't know how I lived without it. After all these years of carrying a cell phone, I finally really like it.

That's it for now. Good night everyone.

Where's One Lucky Mom?

2009-07-23T20:56:00.000-07:00

I think the question is where isn't One Lucky Mom. Since I blogged last, I've been in 4 states, in the mountains, on the beach and even in an office working. Yes, you read that right...I landed a job.

A quick recap: With the family we drove 1,000 miles on the annual trip to Colorado. After being gone 10 days, we returned home and two day later I started a job. I worked three days, then we packed up the car and headed to Pismo Beach for the Magster's travel group reunion. When came back from that trip, just in time for me to get the grocery shopping done and get back to work. And that's where I've been ever since.

This weekend is the first weekend since May (yes, May!) when we don't have something major happening. We define major as a dance recital or a trip out of town. So, if you're wondering where I've been, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.

A Whole New World

2009-06-28T21:02:00.000-07:00

It was well over one hundred degrees here today and the kids and I headed to the pool. Of course, we didn't get there until noon and all the shady spots near the pool were taken, but there are some great trees that line the edges of the club, so we picked out a nice spot under a willow. The problem: we were easily 25 yards from the pools edge, my usual hang out when the kids are swimming. I've always been so paranoid around that I won't leave the edge of the pool.

Oh, the pool is lifeguarded. And really, La Nina has been water safe for years. But the Magster is more reluctant in the water, so I never felt good leaving her in the pool...even with lifeguards, even to just run to the bathroom.

But this year, things are different. The Magster took off during swim lessons and swam the length of the pool many, many times during the past two weeks. And she swam it in multiple strokes: the free style, the breast stroke as well as the back stroke. Really, she's completely water safe. Even I can't justify my own paranoia any longer.

So, it came down to this: both kids swim strong enough to save themselves. The lifeguards (two of them) were there to handle anything catastrophic and enforce rules (did I ever tell you about La Nina's ability to perform flips into the pool?)..what was I worrying about? So, I did it. I sat in the shade, I read a magazine and relaxed.....when I wasn't so hot I was in the pool myself. It was so odd. Wonderful and delightful. Suddenly, our pool membership is a lot more appealing. Now, if they just served Lava Flows, I'd be in business.

CSA Madness

2009-06-22T20:14:00.001-07:00

Earlier this year, I joined a CSA. Unless you're from a crazy place like California you've probably never heard of one. CSA stands for Community Supported Agriculture, which still doesn't explain exactly what a CSA is either. In a CSA, you pay a lump sum to a farmer at the beginning of a growing season and every week you receive a share of the farmers crop. Most farmers set up trades with other farmers, so your share isn't 15 pounds of kale, but is more a mix of fruits and vegetables. And our farmer wisely set up a trade with a local bakery, so we always get some fabulous baked good using the fruits and vegetables from the farm.

The theory is this is a win-win. The consumer gets access to high quality, locally grown, seasonally fresh produce. The farmer knows his revenue early in the season and can better plan his crops. The environment wins because locally grown produce is locally consumed and not transported across the country.

In my case, the farm is within five miles of my house, on Foothill Rd. for those familiar with the city where I live. Every Wednesday I pick up a load of fresh produce. The catch is I have no say in what kinds of fruits and vegetables I receive. I get what I get and I don't pitch a fit--for the kids, this has been a bit of a learning.

Since our season started the first week of June, I've received peaches, nectarines, pluots, lettuce, kale, swiss chard, cauliflower, onions, shallots, garlic, squash, mint, rosemary, thyme and other things I know I'm forgetting. I have had to adjust to having my vegetables and not buying anything else. I'm learning to cook some new things.

It's also come with some challenges: so what to do with 2 lbs of pluots when both girls refuse to eat them? (The answer: pluot tarts that are to die for.) It's come with some victories: the Magster actually ate swiss chard and liked it. La Nina ate two nectarines, but that isn't shocking..she's a good fruit and veggie eater.

From my perspective, it's been a win. I'm enjoying the spontaneity of cooking with farm fresh ingredients. And we're all getting spoiled. The flavor of this food is really spectacular. We're eating more fruits and veggies than ever earlier in the season than ever before. And now, we're scoping out the egg CSA also offered by our farm. A dozen fresh eggs a week for 10 weeks. Hmmmm, I may be making the trip to the farm a second day a week.

Quote of the Day

2009-06-16T19:12:00.000-07:00

The girls are in swim lessons now that school is out. La Nina's class is basically just a conditioning class where the kids swim laps and work on their strokes. The following conversation happened between La Nina and her teacher during a lap of the breast stroke. Imagine the two of them shouting. La Nina in the pool, her teacher on the edge next to her.

Teacher: "Don't do the splits when you kick."

La Nina: "But you said to open my legs"

Teacher: "Well, yes, but don't do the splits."

La Nina: "But I can't help it. My legs just do that."

Teacher: "What?"

Then the teacher's jaw just dropped. Apparently, she'd never seen a child do the side ways splits with every kick of her feet. The flexibility thing works for her in dance. It's not so helpful in the water.

Never say Never

2009-06-13T20:47:00.000-07:00

***********************************************************************************

PS I was quite proud of my other dancer today. The Dad took the stage with La Nina during one of her dances in a very moving Daddy-Daughter dance to Steven Curtis Chapman's song, "Dance with Cinderella". Both dancers did a great job. Hopefully, I won't have to be a stage mom to my big dancer too.

Mad Librarian Holds Children Hostage

2009-06-11T20:35:00.000-07:00

PTOWN, CA, USA- A school librarian, worried children would not return overdue books before the end of the school year, took over 60 kids hostage at various times during the school day. The librarian did this on the school's only field day, a day long party at their school. Once she took custody of the children she called parents advising them their children would miss the entire day of fun, if they did not return the book or buy the book immediately.

"I told the kids that they wouldn't get their report cards if their books hadn't been returned," said the librarian. Apparently, when children laughed at this threat (and what self-respecting child wouldn't?), she took action.

The librarian used a systematic approach to the kidnappings. She gathered 10 children at a time and instructed them to call their parents. When a child's parents either returned the book or showed up with a check, the child was released from jail...oops the writer means the "library", and another child was snatched from class by a fifth grade "helper".

One girl by the name of La Nina was held hostage for about 30 minutes before her teacher tracked down her mother in her sister's classroom. Apparently, the mother couldn't hear her cell phone over the din of the kindergarten carnival where she was volunteering.

The child was released as soon as her mother showed up, but her mother, who received no notice of this deadline for payment, was stunned by the school's aggressive action.

"I knew the book was lost," said her mother. "But no one ever told me the cost of the book and I had no idea how to resolve the issue. Other moms told me I'd get a bill over the summer, so I didn't worry about it."

In a cost saving effort, the librarian opted not to notify parents directly of the costs of books this year. Rather, she advised the children and teachers who were supposed to tell parents. When new procedure didn't yield any books, she took to kidnapping.

"Well, teachers should have known I'd do something. We have 60 books missing."

As parents pointed out, why is it a teacher's job to notify us of the library's procedures? Shouldn't a librarian, who's jobs were just saved when teacher's jobs were lost, do that? Are we missing something here?

All morning, parents dashed to the school with check books in hand, the librarian slowly collected her fines and released kids back to their field day. It should be noted very few library books were recovered during this one day crusade. One witness reported seeing 7 mothers in line all with check books as who has time to look for books during the last week of school?

Despite the fact their parent's were outraged, most children were unfazed by the librarian's actions. One child named La Nina who lost a library book in March and did tell her mother that all library books were due June 1, said this.

"Well, Mom, it was cold at field day and our class wanted to stay inside and watch Nemo. I don't like that movie, so I was happy in the library. You didn't have to hurry."

Return Trip

2009-06-08T11:12:00.001-07:00

I spent my weekend in Kansas City visiting with old friends, chatting about old times and hanging out. It was great fun, quite relaxing. I flew home yesterday and opened the door to pandemonium. Seconds before my arrival, the Magster's first loose tooth took a major step toward falling out and was bleeding. She was too excited to even notice I was home.

When we finally calmed everyone down enough to get a look at the tooth, it fell out. The Magster lost her first tooth a full eight months younger than her sister. The tooth fairy will be busy at our house.

End of an Era

2009-06-03T18:47:00.000-07:00

I remember when I found out La Nina had afternoon kindergarten almost two years ago now, I was kind of disappointed. It meant Maggie would have to switch pre-schools, I couldn't use any kind of traditional day care and our days would be cut in half, but the half missing was going to come from the middle. It all felt so wrong.

My neighbor told me I should be happy that she requested afternoon kindergarten. She said it seemed longer. During the 200 minutes the kids were in school, she could go to lunch with a friend and hit the grocery store. Once we started Kindergarten, I realized my neighbor was right. Afternoon kindergarten was great. No rushing a kid out the door in the morning. We could take long morning baths, be more lenient on bed times and arrange morning play dates. Also, afternoon kindergarten is the hang out for stay home moms or moms like me who want to work on their own terms. I fell into a pattern I liked and when it was Maggie's to start school last spring, I requested the afternoon class.

Today was my last day at home with an afternoon kindergartner. I'm out of town the next couple of days and next week the Magster goes to school early. So, today was it. The last day of the life I never thought I'd like but came to love. And as Maggie and I were eating our last early lunch together, I felt so sad. There will be no more lunches at 11 where I beg her to eat something, anything and she refuses. There will be no more car rides where I pretend I forgot how to get to school and she directs me from the back seat. No more artistic surprises when I get out of the shower. Next year, my baby is in school all day and to me, this change is much bigger than when kids start kindergarten.

Yes, there is a large part of me doing a happy dance that I'll have 6 glorious hours of freedom everyday. While I'm sad this era is ending, I'm also curious what the school era holds for me. I can't imagine working more than a few hours a day, yet I sort of want to work. I also would like to finish my darn book that has been side lined for awhile. Or at least decide if I want to finish it or start something different. The possibilities are only limited by my ability to envision them.

Quick Update

2009-05-28T10:48:00.000-07:00

I just heard Carly have a conversation completely in Spanish. We were at the school book fair and one of her spanish speaking friends was confused. So Carly explained the whole book buying and raffle process to her friend in spanish. (I'm happy to report I sort of understood her.)

This means she met the mile stone for language acquisition by 7. If a person learns a second language before the age of seven, the brain is somehow rewired and it will forever be easier for that person to learn additional languages. In school, she's expected to be speaking conversationally at the end of first grade. The teacher's been telling me she's conversational for months, but I never heard her speak spontaneously until today. It was pretty darn cool.

Next year, she's not allowed to speak English in the classroom and I was wondering how she was going to do that. Now I know she's going to be just fine.

A rant: Solving the Budget Crisis

2009-05-27T20:27:00.000-07:00

I've held my tongue on an issue in California for quite a while and I can remain silent no more. As many of you know, both of my kids go to public schools and therefore, are impacted by the budget crisis in our state.

My children attend schools that are ranked in the top ten of the State (specifically, we're number 7). These schools boast high test scores, committed teachers, involved parents and bright students. No wonder they rank so highly. Yet, like every other school in the state, budget cuts threatens to increase class sizes and reduce janitorial services. Library aides, reading specialists, counselors all may be cut by fall. At our school, 17 of 34 teachers were given notices of potential lay-offs (this is just for Dual Immersion, it's more if you include the English Only classes.) And most amazing, it doesn't have to be this way.

There is an option on the table that allows schools to maintain 20 kids in every class, keep their janitors, reading specialists and every single teacher. Yet, it's considered controversial. The option: Cut five days off the school year. Currently the kids go to school from August 25 through mid-June. They have most of the month of November off (no one really knows why this is, it just is), two weeks in December and a week in Spring. At a recent meeting with our superintendent, he told parents the schools need every single teaching day to keep our test scores high. Every parent in the room practically shouted "BS" (and I mean the words, not the letters).

Why? Well, school may not be dismissed until mid-June, but education ended on May 15 this year and parents knew that would be the case. See, state testing ends on May 15 and teachers generally take that as the signal to start closing down their classrooms. I mean why work with students if they've already been evaluated? In La Nina's class, the reading program ended (so the teacher could inventory books and evaluate students), timed math tests ended (not sure why) and home ceased (I'm not complaining.) In Maggie's class, it's similar plus she's had two field trips since May 1 and has another one coming up. Today, every 3rd, 4th and 5th grader from our school went to a baseball game, counting pitches is very educational. Basically, the schools take 5 weeks off, but can't afford to give 5 days back to families.

Now, I'm all for kids going on field trips and having some down time at school. Homework is ridiculous in 1st grade and kindergarten, so I'm not complaining about that stopping. Here's my issue: If you can fix the budget problem in education by losing a week, what's the hold up? Lose the week and move on.

But wait, that would mean that our beloved teachers will lose 5 days of pay. Hmmmm...lose jobs or everyone lose a little bit of income. Given that many of my neighbors are giving up 10-20% of their income to keep their jobs, why are these people complaining about 5 days?

And so, even though there is a solution, the only people I know who believe it's a good idea are parents. Who knows if the governor will have the guts to make the needed changes to make this a reality? The teachers union will scream to high Heaven. The teachers will riot in the street about test scores dropping. Administrators will use the shorter school year as an excuse for everything from increased truancy to childhood obesity. Yet I truly hope the governor changes the laws and shortens the school year. With an extra few days, we can get another weekend of family time and that's as valuable as school any day of the week.

She did what??

2009-05-23T18:58:00.000-07:00

This morning the girls' got in a fight. A knock down, drag out because La Nina fed the fish we're fish sitting. The fist belong to the Magster's friend and duties were supposed to be shared. The Magster was beside herself. We tried everything to calm her down but nothing worked.

Maybe twenty minutes later, La Nina was humming a tune the Magster didn't like. The Magster told her twice to stop and when La Nina didn't listen, it was revenge time for the fish. The Magster tweaked her sister's nose. Yep, you read that right. She reached over, grabbed her nose and twisted it. It was a move that made the 3 stooges proud. Of course, La Nina burst into tears, it hurts to have your nose tweaked. The Magster, who was completely unsorry, was sent to her room smirking. And I was left to stifle my giggles and comfort La Nina.

After a long time out, need to control my giggles, I went back to her room to have a serious discussion about why we don't tweak noses. The Magster's response to my question if she understood what she did wrong: "It was about the fish." Yeah, I knew that. She did offer the most insincere apology I've ever heard and my guess is she won't have the same problem tomorrow with her sister.

Quiet Weekend, Literally

2009-05-16T20:02:00.000-07:00

Have you ever seen such a headline from me? Probably not. Because since I started this blog, I've never had a weekend like this. It's completely, delightfully and blissfully quiet. The dad took both girls camping yesterday and they don't return until tomorrow. The house is clean, quiet and all mine.

Sure, I've had weeks away. But it's even better to stay home. I can cook my own meals, the way I want. I can watch whatever I want on television. I can run to the store or not. Whether or not I go to the store, I don't have to coordinate anyone else getting their shoes and going to the potty before we leave.

I told the Dad before he left I wish I could be a fly on the wall for his trip, just to see how he manages. His words, "You probably don't want to know." He's probably right. However, I do know that I'm grateful he does such things, because this is a great mother's day gift.

Disney World Adventures

2009-05-10T09:29:00.000-07:00

It's Mother's Day and while there is much to be done to recover from our vacation, I'm having a slow morning. So, rather than do laundry--doesn't it seem wrong to do laundry on Mother's Day? I thought I'd give a brief run down of our Disney Adventure.

Days Spent at Disney World: 7

Days Spent Traveling: 2

Parks Visited: 4

Number of Condos/Hotels: 2 (Lake Buena Vista Resort Condos and Wilderness Lodge)

Favorite Park (Girls Vote): Hollywood Studios

Reason: American Idol Experience and High School Musical 3

Favorite Park (Adults Vote): Epcot

Reason: Alcohol readily available

Average Temperature: 92 degrees

Average Humidity: We have no idea, but a lot higher than California.

Number of Times we got lost: 5 (we only drove 4 days)

Number of Character Signatures Gathered: 34

Best Character (LN): Pocohontas and Meeko

Best Character (M): Mickey and Minnie Mouse

Most Unusual Characters Found: Tinkerbell, Jiminy Cricket

Favorite Ride (LN & M): Kali River Rapids in Animal Kingdom

Best Thing We Saw (M): Epcot Golf Ball

Best Thing We Saw (LN): Characters

Best Thing We Saw (Adults): We kind of thought the White Rhinos at Animal Kingdom were cool, but what do we know?

Best Nighttime Fireworks: Epcot's Illuminations

Best Parade: Nightime Spectacular at Magic Kingdom

Best Swimming Pool: Pool at Disney's Wilderness Lodge

Child who whined the most: La Nina (She has the potential to make a man perfectly miserable some day.)

Child who ate the least: Magster

Number of chicken nuggets consumed by Magster: 56 (I don't think she ate anything else)

Best food: Didn't exist. However, it was much easier to find decent salads, fruits and vegetables than I remember in Disneyland.

Number of blisters: 1 (On La Nina who refused to follow my shoe advice, even after the blister.)

Number of Stuffed Animal Souvenirs Purchased: 7

Overall assessment Disneyland v. Disney World: I'm very glad we did Disney World, the girls were the perfect ages for it and we had a great time. At the same time, I don't know that we'll go back. It's a long trip. While it's fun and different from Disneyland, I'd rather go other places and do long weekends at Disneyland. It should be noted the girls do not agree.

Where in the world....

2009-05-05T04:41:00.000-07:00

We're out and about and thought it might be fun to test everyone. From this picture, can you say where we are? Please be specific. This is for bragging rights only.

Busy Weekend

2009-04-26T20:32:00.000-07:00

This weekend was a diverse mix of activities. Friday night both girls participated in their school's multicultural fair. This year the Magster danced her first ever cultural dance to La Cucaracha and La Nina danced to La Bomba. Both girls looks lovely in their costumes and did a great job in their dances.

Then, on Saturday we drove to Sacramento to participate in the Dad's God daughter's confirmation. I was very honored to be her sponsor as she became an adult in the Catholic Church. Before the big event, we stopped by the state Capitol and ate a picnic lunch on the lawns, then toured through the park.

Today, we ended up ditching our indoor soccer game to spend more time with our friends. We came home tired but ready for another fun-filled week.

Shhh....LaNina Can't Find Out

2009-04-22T21:08:00.000-07:00

We're assuming the Magster's going to be taller than La Nina when all the growing is said and done. She consistently tracks an inch or so taller than her sister when same age measurements are compared. Her hands have been bigger for years. And the doctor projections always leave the Magster standing 3 or so inches taller.

But today, we took a step closer to seeing this height advantage into reality. Both girls needed shoes for an upcoming Multi-cultural dance performance. The instructions were simple: white dress shoes. The assignment was not so easy to complete. There were no shoes at the first two places we visited. But we found the shoes at our third stop. And then it happened, the Magster needed a half size larger than her sister.

The good news is La Nina was so distracted by all the shoes, she never even noticed that her sister and I were shopping in a larger section. And in the end, she never caught on we bought her sister a larger shoe. It's not a big surprise, but La Nina's ego will take a beating when she finally figures it out.

Now, if we could just postpone reality a bit longer

2009-04-19T21:13:00.000-07:00

We had a fabulous weekend celebrating our 20th anniversary. We stayed in a charming hotel in Sonoma. We ate some great meals. We went on a scenic hike with spectacular views of the valley. We even did some wine tasting. (Shocking in Sonoma.) We came home relaxed and ready for a couple of really crazy weeks. Here's what happened next:

* Realized that the cleaning ladies never showed on Friday. The problem is tomorrow night is a big meeting here. This completely rearranges my day tomorrow.

* Refereed about 37 fights between tired children. One child cried four times in 2 hours. Ridiculous.

* Reprogrammed the language setting on the Magster's DS from Chinese and Italian to English. This took quite a bit of guesswork on my part as I don't read Chinese or Italian and finding the language selection option in Chinese was like searching for easter eggs blindfolded.

* Settled on allowances when one child was sick and unable to complete her chores and the other child simply checked she finished everything including several chores that she wasn't home to complete. With my negotiating skills, I could be the next Ambassador to the Vatican. Do you think Obama will call?

* Prepared dinner for two children and one husband. Children didn't like the meal selection, husband still full from brunch. Put most of dinner in refrigerator for tomorrow.

* Discovered one child asleep on the couch well before 8pm, then managed to get the other kid to bed before she fell asleep. Did I mention the whole time I put the awake one to bed she grumbled about being left home, alone, with no one? cry, cry, cry....more ridiculousness.

Whew! After five hours home, I need another three days in Sonoma.

Day 10

2009-04-15T21:20:00.001-07:00

Every day, for the past 10 days, someone in my house has been running a fever. Every night, for the past ten nights, someone in my house has needed help in the middle of the night, thanks to the fever or some side effect...see the previous post an example of a side effect. I'd like to say today was the last feverish day, however, I know we have tomorrow to go. The current fever, La Nina's, should break tomorrow, no later than Friday.

All this time at home has given me lots of time to get absolutely nothing accomplished. Oh, I've been busy. I've administered countless doses of Advil, changed several beds, played many card and board games, completed arts and crafts projects and puzzles. Lots of puzzles. And television. Yes, television has been my best friend. It drives me batty to hear the fake laugh tracks from bad Disney kid shows mark time during my day, but a mother must do what a mother must do to keep sick kids happy.

Just my luck, this week the kids are out of school. So I have both girls here all day, every day. I feel like my Spring Break was cancelled. I was looking forward to trips to the park, the mall, the TEA party today, etc. Instead we've been home, drinking plenty of fluids and taking naps. I'm going to need a spring break just to recover from my spring break. With any luck, La Nina's fever will break on Friday, and she'll be fully recovered in time for school on Monday. Hard to believe, our entire week will be spent home on the couch.

It's a humdinger...

2009-04-09T19:49:00.001-07:00

It started at 3am. The Magster called me and I went into her room to find one heck of a bloody nose in progress. I'm not talking about a drip. It was a faucet turned on, full blast and there was no turning it off. I ran around the house grabbing boxes of tissues, wet wash clothes and clean bedding while simultaneously holding tissues to Maggie's nose and trying to find the right nasal pressure point to stem the tide. After about 25 minutes, I'm not kidding, it was 25 minutes long, it started to let up. By 4am, it was over, the bedding was changed, the pajamas were changed, laundry was started and I started to head back to bed. Then, she sneezed. And it all started again, but it was much shorter the second time through. And with changing and laundry included I made it to bed at 4:30am.

So fast forward to today, I finally decided to run her into the doctor. She wasn't eating much, she was still running a fever and the whole nose thing had me a bit on edge. A quick visit to the doc, strep suspected, anti-biotics prescribed. Nose bleed most likely due to antihistimines, so no more antihistimines for the Magster. I'm driving home and lighting strikes again in the car. The nose explodes. I pull over the first chance I get, I promptly go through my purse pack of tissues and I had a decision: Frighten several people in a dance studio nearby, call 9-1-1 or make a run for the house where my neighbor, a nurse, could help me. I take option three, tear home, get another neighbor to get the nurse. It was another 25 minutes of intense nose action. The neighbor is calm. I'm frazzled. The whole car part of the equation left me spooked.

So, as I put the Magster down tonight, she's a little paranoid about her nose, I'm a little paranoid about her nose, and I'm really just hoping we all get some sleep.

Twenty Years Ago

2009-04-08T20:46:00.001-07:00

Twenty years ago today, I made a great decision and married my husband, known here as the Dad. On one hand it's hard to believe it's been twenty years. Yet when I think of all the water that has passed under the bridge of our marriage, it does seem like we've lived a lot of life together.

We're taking a weekend away soon to celebrate this milestone, but tonight we'd planned to go to a nice dinner at one of our favorite restaurants. We'd hired a sitter, made a reservation, it was going to be great. Then, yesterday, Maggie spiked a fever and this afternoon I cancelled the sitter and the reservation. Tonight we shared a take out spaghetti dinner with La Nina (Maggie slept through it) and that was that.

But you know, it's okay. One of the many lessons we've learned after twenty years of marriage is patience. Patience with situations, patience with the kids, patience with each other. So even though the night didn't go exactly as planned, we still shared a nice evening and toasted the past, the present and the future in fine style. And if nothing else, we had a little reminder, life may not go exactly as planned, but you can still enjoy the journey. And to my dear husband, the adventure continues... Lord knows, it's never dull.

An Update on the Magster

2009-03-31T20:38:00.000-07:00

The poor Magster. Between her sister's birthday and dance competitions, La Nina's been hogging blog space for two months now and the Magster's been in the shadows. So it's time to change that.

Today the Magster and I had to turn in homework. With her, homework is always an adventure because she never completes assignments exactly as instructed. She puts her own twist on it. Without a doubt, her version is always better than the planned one.

Today was perhaps the best. I left her to make a collage from recycled material. I gave her a card board box as background, some magazines and some old newspapers. Then I left the room to go take a shower. When I came back, she'd found some masking tape and had created a "reading chair" using the box. She'd decorated it presents (the rewards she gets every time she reads 100 books), ice cream scoops (the tracking method they use to count the books she's read) and a blond girl smiling. It was so darn clever, I couldn't tell her she did anything wrong. So, we took pictures of it and turned it in.

Then she proceeded to draw a picture of her favorite song- Love Story by Taylor Swift. For those not in the know, it's a Romeo and Juliet story with a happy ending. Maggie drew a picture of a prince and a princess in a castle looking at each other through windows. Then she drew herself outside the castle watching them. I printed off the lyrics to the song and read them to her and she added a garden and a balcony. She was supposed to draw a picture of her favorite book, "There's a Wocket in my Pocket." But again, it was so much better, that I improvised. I counted reading the lyrics as reading a book and we turned her picture into a book report. (Sorry no photo of this one.)

I hope she never simply sticks to an assignment when she has a better idea. Success in life usually comes when you operate outside of the box. I hope she always maintains this creativity and confidence in doing things her way. Luckily her teacher was an art major and she totally appreciates Maggie's meanderings. Heaven help us, when we hit the teacher who doesn't!