Marriage

Tonight as I tucked in Casey for bed, I went through our typical bedtime ritual, telling him how much I love him. When I went to kiss him good night, though, he had some questions for me:

Casey: Mommy, are you and Daddy gonna get married?
Me: Casey, Daddy and I are already married. Just like Aunt Megan and Uncle Timour (pronounced Tee-more).
Casey: What does it mean that you gonna married?
Me: It means that we love each other and promise to be faithful to each other until we die.
Casey: Die? You gonna die? (Jason enters the room and joins us on the bed.)
Me: (back-pedaling) Well, let's just say that it means that we promise to love each other for-ever and ever. Is that okay?
Casey: (Silent)
Me: Casey?
Casey: (holding up his stuffed ladybug, tucking its legs under) Look at me! I'm a bug with no legs!

Glad that conversation went well. . .

It turns out my nephew Sal recently had a similarly amusing conversation with my brother. This is how my sister Megan tells the story. One important tidbit is that she and Timour have been living together for two or three years now.

Bob: Sal, do you know what it means that Aunt Megan and Uncle Timour are going to get married soon?
Sal: That they're going to have babies.
Bob: No. Not for a while-- I don't think so, Sal.
Sal: Then what's the point?!?

The Y Pool and the Sun Pool

Today Casey jumped off the wall of the pool at the Y and turned around to swim to the edge. It was major progress. We've promised Casey that once he can do it, we'll buy him a Transformer. A giant, $40 transformer that makes noise and lights up. It's been quite an incentive.

I think I wrote several months ago about the day Casey fell into the deep end of the pool at a classmate's pool party. Within a few minutes, he calmed himself enough to swim to the edge and get himself out of danger. But not before flailing about for a bit. He was fine during swim lessons for the next couple weeks, then suddenly one day after going into the deep end, he decided he didn't like swimming anymore. At all. In fact, he'd work himself into such a frenzy that he literally gave himself a fever. Two weeks in a row. And only on swim days.

So we decided to stop pushing him into swimming. But our dilemma was that Marcie still wanted to attend swim lessons, and she's so young she has to participate in a parent-child class. So then what to do with Casey? Well, he refused to get into the pool. But then eventually we coaxed him back in by promising he could stay with Jason and Marcie. And he has. Real progress occurred in July when he discovered that his cousin Joey (18 months his junior) can swim by himself. Under water. And so can Lucas, who is only 6 months older than Marcie.

For a while, he just wanted to go in the "sun pool," which is apparently the name he gave my parents' pool. In North Carolina. A bit too far to travel for a quick swim. But now there seems to be some real progress. Thankfully, though, he seems to be overcoming his fear. In tiny steps. He's remained with Jason and Marcie this summer. And he may be ready to return to his own class soon. We're hopeful. It's a good thing he's so competitive.

Casey has also been keeping busy this summer by playing soccer on an indoor soccer team, by participating in music class, by taking a P.E. class at school, and by taking a reading/tutoring class (this evening, he was actually attempting to sound. out. words. I was so proud and impressed). But I digress.

I think one of the reasons he dislikes the Y pool is the attitude of the swim teachers. When he happily cheers about and shouts hello, the high-school-aged boys just give their I'm-too-cool-to-actually-make-any-effort head nods in Casey's direction. Talk about a turn-off. Though I suppose I should be grateful we don't have the swim coach Casey's cousin had the pleasure of experiencing this summer. On the way to the pool in San Francisco (I think it was a Y pool), one of the counselors jokingly said to my five year old nephew, "Just watch out for the sharks." Who says that to a five year old? Geez.

Cousins

Yes, it's been quite a hiatus. Honestly, I've been too busy playing with the kids when I'm not working to report about our goings on. It's a terrible excuse. But here I am now.


My sister married the love of her life yesterday. It was such an honor to participate in the festivities, which began last Thursday and had me running more or less nonstop until just now. I'm so tired, we're putting the kids to bed early tonight because I honestly don't know that I will make it past 7:30 p.m.


I have plenty to tell about as far as the wedding goes. But one of my very favorite things about the wedding is that I got to see my entire family. It's been too long since were were last all together-- 18 months, actually. In fact, the last time we were all together, Timour (my new brother-in-law) proposed to my sister Megan. That's how long it's been. So I suppose it's appropriate that their marriage brought us all back together again this weekend.


In the intervening year and a half, we had an addition to the family, Ethan. Who turned a year last month. This brings the total number of cousins (that is, my children and the children of my siblings) to seven. Marcie is still the only girl.


The kids didn't attend the wedding or reception (blessedly). They had a slumber party or two over the extended weekend, though, which was a lot more fun for them-- and for us. But I did manage to snap a photograph of all seven of them before three of my nephews had to begin their long trip back to the Bay Area. Here's the "money shot." And it's not perfect by any stretch. But have you tried getting seven children under the age of 7 to even look at a camera all at the same time, much less smile? I'm just happy they all sat relatively still long enough for me to capture this moment in time:

Gosh, I love my family . . .

May Gray and Memorial Day Weekend

We have been experiencing an unusually large amount of May Gray this year. Last weekend it was in the 90s-- between 85 and 89 degrees in our house most of the weekend (because we stubbornly refused to turn on the air conditioner and ratchet up our energy bill). This weekend our house has hovered at 69 degrees. A twenty degree difference. And my sinuses are angry about it.

Don't get me wrong-- it's not that the weather is too hot and then too cold -- that's not what my gripe is about. It's the hot then cold at all. Just pick something and stick with it for a while. But all this back and forth, back and forth. Well, it's enough to give me daily headaches and a dry throat. Of course, I'd prefer the warm weather. Especially on a three day weekend.

But despite the May Gray, we decided to head for Sea World yesterday morning. I didn't bother to make sure our annual passes were valid-- after all, we weren't going there on Memorial Day. Oops. It was a black out date. In quick maneuvering to quell the trembling lower lip emanating from the captain chair in the back seat of Jason's mini-van, we told the kids we'd just go to the aquarium instead. It's been over a year since we've been. It's a small facility, an off-shoot of USCD. And Jason absolutely loves salt-water aquariums. We used to have one in our living room. Until Casey was born.

So to the aquarium we went. It's not a great place to snap photos -- not in the indoor exhibits, anyway. But I did manage to capture one shoot of my boys:

And because we could see the beach from the aquarium tide pools and deck, Casey asked if we could go. We said we'd try-- but we weren't holding our breath. After all, it was Sunday of Memorial Day weekend, and the beaches tend to be packed. But we soon discovered that the rule about avoiding beach crowds on Memorial Day Weekend only applies if the weather is actually nice. We had no trouble finding a spot right along the sidewalk in the parking lot.

So we removed the kids' shoes, telling them they could walk in the sand. We weren't sure how Marcie would feel about it. The last time she was at the beach, she was only 15 months old, and she spent the entire time sitting on a blanket or being carried. It was, like yesterday, a very gray day. But it was in February, so at least that made sense. Anyway, turned out Marcie had no trouble getting her feet wet-- literally or figuratively. Here are some shots from the mid-day escapade:

And this last photo is one of my favorite because of the kids' expressions. Despite the lousy temperature (though, one bonus of that was that the water wasn't that cold in comparison to the air temperature), they really enjoyed themselves.

Fortunately, I had a towel and a change of clothes for each of the kids in the car. They fell asleep on the way home. As Jason carried Casey in and laid him in bed for his nap, Casey opened his droopy eyes just long enough to whisper: "I had so much fun today, Daddy. Thank you."

Keeping Busy, Getting Dirty

I've been "in charge" of the kids while we've been re-landscaping our backyard. And because I am the typical consumer (who wants things done quickly, professionally, and inexpensively), that means Jason gets to do some of the work (it's how we can ensure all three of my demands are met).

This weekend, Jason and his dad were using the bobcat and a dump truck to clear out some of the dirt in our back yard and to take out some of our side bank in preparation for new concrete and stuff. And Jason warned me, repeatedly, not to let the kids outside at all once his dad left because he didn't have a spotter. So I busied the children with finger painting (and closed and locked all the doors in our 85+ degree home without the air conditioning turned on because I'm being cheap) while I stepped into the laundry room to fold a load of laundry.

When I reappeared, Marcie seemed occupied enough:

But I had made the mistake of leaving her with a cup of water to wipe off her hand so she could switch colors. As you can see, it did not really work, as her painting became a blur of colors anyway. On top of that, the mess she created on the floor, well, let's just say I was less than pleased.

After I yelped my dismay, Casey wandered into the kitchen to see what the ruckus was. And he joined in the painting fun.

Don't get me wrong, though, Casey did plenty of mess-making of his own. He managed to knock the dog food container bottom off, spilling all the hard dog food onto the kitchen floor. That required both broom sweeping and vacuum-cleaning plus a bit of mopping up to clean. And we couldn't reuse the dog food because a couple weeks ago a glass broke on the floor and I couldn't risk the tiniest sliver ending up in Pugasus's stomach.

After all that, the kids and I ate and I bathed them, read them some stories, and sent them to bed without a problem. Their new thing is the "hide" at bed time (they are terrible at it). Last night I told them they could hide twice. It's always under covers. Last night they chose my bed, and Casey let his feet stick out from under the blankets. I tickled them before I pulled back the covers and tickled the kids. The thing is, Casey and Marcie are hilarious about hiding. They cannot contain their excitement. They squeal and wiggle as soon as they anticipate either me or Jason is in the room. I love it.

Oh, and Jason got quite a bit done on the yard. Check it out:

She passed! She passed!

I'm (not at all suprised and) happy to report that Delinda has passed the Bar Exam. She'll be joining us as a practitioner in a mere matter of weeks. You can read about it at her blog www.thedelinda.com.

We're so proud and excited to have finally finished our journey to attorney-hood-- all three of us from our study group.

Mothers' Day

Casey, participating with his classmates for a little rhyme about how bees love flowers and socks love shoes and I. love. you. He's tugging on his face here for the "I" part of it.

After the little program, the kids served us pound cake with strawberries and whipped cream and tea. Here's a picture of us hanging out together:

We celebrated with our moms, too. On Saturday evening, we went to Souplantation with Jason's mom. And on Sunday we took my mom to brunch at Peohe's on Coronado. It's one of our favorite restaurants, and we haven't seen my mom on Mother's Day . . . well . . . ever. I think I haven't been with my mom on Mother's Day since 1991. Seriously. As crazy as it sounds. And this was my first Mother's Day with no final exams since Casey was 5 months old. It was strange not feeling the need to rush off to the library after brunch. So it felt decadent to barbecue with my younger brother and his family Sunday evening.

I have been surprised to read that others feel we should not celebrate grandmother's on Mothers' Day. I know there is a Grandparents Day in the fall (maybe September?). But we don't actually celebrate that in our families. But why not celebrate grandparents on Mothers' and Fathers' Days? The prevailing wisdom (as I've seen it on blogs) is that our parents are not our kids' parents-- so celebrating their parenthood is inappropriate. I guess I understand it. But I don't get it. I mean, they are our kids parents. They are our kids grandparents. And even though it's not at all the same role that we play in our kids' lives, it's still a parental-type role. What's the harm? For me, celebrating Jason's mom and my mom on Mothers' Day is a tribute of what kind of parent I am-- what I've learned from them and how I've chosen to parent. So we'll keep on celebrating grandparents on Mothers' and Fathers' Day around here. what greater compliment is there to want to share your children's' lives with your parents-- not out of obligation but out of genuine love, gratefulness for the way we've been raised?

So there we have it.

The Wait

Casey has been talking a lot about his "baby brother." He doesn't have a baby brother. Or sister. Just yet. The wait passed the six month mark in April, and I didn't even notice, really. When we were waiting for Marcie, the six-month mark was supposed to be magical-- it was how long families before us had been waiting. And yet, this six-month mark is just the first of many, many six-month intervals. It seems like every time we turn around, we hear a new estimate of the wait-- and it's always longer than the previous one. We're still thinking B.S. #3 is another 3 1/2 years away. And we explain this to the kids by telling them that we just have to wait our turn, like we did with them. And when Casey asks why we can't just put a baby in my tummy, I just smile, tell him that would be nice, but our baby is coming from another mommy's tummy-- just like he and Marcie did. And he says "ok," and moves on to another topic. Oh to be young. Six months is an eternity to a two year old or a five year old. Fortunately, they have no sense of time-- because we've promised them they can go on a big airplane with us to China the next time we go. But they don't really understand just how far into the future that might be. And while I do not feel the same sense of urgency waiting for B.S. #3 that I did waiting for Marcie, it's always there, nagging at me. Reminding me that our family isn't quite complete, as full and wonderful as our lives are now. Somewhere on the other side of the world a child will be born. Our child. And while I feel a calm sense of patience for now, I know that feeling won't last.

Dinner Breakfast and Compensating

This morning I promised we could have dinner breakfast for dinner. I'm thinking I can't possibly be the only one who enjoys preparing dinner breakfast. I'm not even a huge breakfast food plan, but whipping up some pancakes, frying bacon, slicing up fruit, and scrambling eggs just seems so easy. And delicious. Casey gobbled down more pancakes than I could count. And didn't even drown them in excessive amounts of syrup. And, even better, Casey actually made the pancakes. He poured in the mix, helped measure the milk and pour it in the bowl, and cracked the eggs. And he whipped it up, and flipped the pancakes off the stove and onto our pancake plate (with a very vigilant mother breathing down his neck). De-licious.



He's been having a rough patch lately. I think it might be because he's transitioning out of naps. When he naps, he naps hard. And when he doesn't nap, he becomes a weepy mess. For multiple days. He didn't nap yesterday. And today when we went to a birthday party, he was a bit weepy. The kids at the party were all strangers to Casey, who friendily asked kids their names, said hello when they arrived, and tried to keep up with the birthday boy. But when they all began playing soccer and football together, Casey returned to me multiple time, head hung in dejected form. He complained that the kids weren't playing with him. And he was right. They weren't. But each time, I made a suggestion (ask if you can have a turn, chase after the ball, etc.) and he returned to play. And when he finally chased down the ball, he showed off his stellar spiral football throw. At least one other adult at the party was impressed.



But Casey could sense that he was on the outside of the circle during play. And so he befriended a seven-year-old girl. He chatted at her. When other kids clamored to sit next to the birthday boy, Casey quietly commented that he wanted to sit next to this little girl. And not only did he look for another sort-of-outsider, but he also turned his attention in making sure Marcie was taken care of. For example, Marcie and I missed out on the pinata because Marcie was going to the bathroom. But Casey collected some candy and gave it to Marcie. Sometimes I am so impressed with Casey. Often he impresses me. I wonder how he got to be so thoughtful. It's no wonder Casey is so popular at school. He likes everyone and plays with anyone. And at five, that's exactly how kids should be.

Jiminy Jones Gets a Haircut

Yes, it's been an incredibly long time since I last posted. Almost a month. I don't think I've ever gone so long without blogging. It's just that I don't blog at work and I'm so exhausted after we put the kids to bed, I don't typically get back on the computer. Excuses, excuses. But here I am. And I'll be updating with more regularity in the near future. So on to the story of Jiminy Jones.

A couple weeks ago I was working and Jason was home with the kids. Late on Saturday night, when plopped myself down in the chair next to Jason, he began to recount his day with the kids. He told me how Casey really wanted this book he'd read in school called Jiminy Jones Gets a Haircut. Jason told me that he'd taken Casey to the book store, and he'd searched for the book. The closest he could come up with, though, was Jimmy Brown Cuts His Hair. It was published some time during or before the 1950s (I don't remember the actual date anymore). Jason didn't buy it, opting instead to wait until Monday when he could ask Casey's teachers for the correct book title.

Proud of my son's love of books, the wheels in my head began to churn a bit. Before I left for work Sunday morning, I asked Casey about the book:

Was it Jimmy Jones, Casey?
No.
Was it Jeremy Jones, Casey?
No.
Is Jiminy a boy or a girl, Casey?
A girl, Mommy! You're silly!

Jiminy Jones - - - hmm. What name could that be? Have you figured it out yet? Well, the title of the book Casey wanted was Junie B. Jones is a Beauty Parlor Guy. It is, in fact, a book about a little girl named Junie B. Jones who gives herself a bad haircut and has to have it repaired at a beauty parlor. So even if he got the title completely wrong, there's no doubt he knew exactly what he was talking about!

He's been sleeping with the book ever since. I'm not exaggerating. He wrote his name on it. Three times. In permanent marker. I've had to tape the cover back on the paperback. And tape together the first 5 pages because they pulled from the binding. It has to be the most well-worn book I have ever seen. And I've seen a lot of well-worn books.

Well, Casey was sent home from school today with a fever. So I picked up the Junie B. Jones Second Box Set Ever! (books 5 through 8). He loves it. He's been practicing taking the books out of the box and putting them away. He's written his name on the cover of each one. He's even made up titles for each book based on the cover art. Really, what' s not to love? The protagonist of the book is a kindergartner named Junie B., and the voice is the voice of your typical five or six-year-old. Poor grammar and all. (As a side note, Casey is already looking forward to starting Keekergarten next year -- I love listening to him say it!)

He's asleep now. But I imagine those books will be getting a lot of love tomorrow when he's home from school again . . .

Near Death Experiences in Suburbia

Poor Jason. This weekend I had to go into work. This left Jason alone with the kids for a pool party Sunday. I thought this meant parents in the pool with the kids. Nope. But I'll get to that.

Jason took the kids to Walmart to pick out a present for the birthday boy. Marcie was sitting in the seat portion of the cart, but she was turned sideways in it. Casey decided to climb up the side Marcie's back was to. This is not an uncommon thing for him to do-- we let him do it while we're pushing the cart in the grocery store all the time. But apparently Walmart carts are much more flimsy because Casey was able to yank on the cart as he climbed up it and pull the cart over on its side. With Marcie in it. Casey managed to get out of the way. But not Marcie.

She landed on her back with the cart on top of her. And when it happened, the clerk screamed just before the cart rolled. Jason reached out to try and stop it, but in super slow motion, his hand just barely missed the edge of the shopping cart as it tipped. And then there was silence. Deafening, ear-splitting silence. And a single thought ran through Jason's mind: "OHMYGOD. Casey may have just killed his sister."

And then out of the deafening silence came the most beautiful and awful sound. Marcie began to scream. And in a flash, the world began moving in fast forward, with three Walmart employees on top of Jason at once, and Jason trying to calm Marcie down. Of course, I wasn't there for any of this-- this has just been relayed to me.

There's quite a knot on her head, but Marcie is fine. No dilated pupils. No sleepiness. No vomiting. And the girl is coherent and chatty as ever.

So off to the birthday party, now late, they went. By the time they arrived, swimming had ended. This didn't stop Casey from dipping his feet in the pool with enough insistence that the birthday boy's mother finally told Casey he could go in. And all the kids in their swimsuits jumped in, too. The pool was set up with sort of a shelf as a shallow section, and then a dramatic and sudden drop-off to the deep end.

Jason watched Casey as he played on the shallow shelf part of the pool. And Casey played contentedly. Until he floated toward the drop-off and, well, dropped off. Initially he began doggy-paddling and flailing. Let's call it a panic, because that's what it was. Jason watched as Casey attempted to get to safety. But went the wrong way. Soon, Casey was in the middle of the deep end, and the birthday boy's dad and Jason were just about to leap in, when in a moment's time, Casey stopped flailing, put his head under the water, and swam. To the shallow end. By himself. Safe.

It was pretty frightening, but I guess those swim lessons sort of paid off. Later, I told Casey how proud of him I was. And I asked him how he felt. "Well," he said thoughtfully, "I was scared, Mommy," he explained. Then he held out his hand and pinched his pointer finger together with his thumb. "Just a little bit scared, I think," he repeated. "Yup, just a little bit."

Whew! What a day. I think Jason deserves a medal just for surviving it.

Wiggles

Last week we endured a Wiggles concert. Actually, it wasn't that bad. Casey and Marcie said they had a good time. And Casey has been watching the Wiggles with a new sense of interest ever since. They played all our favorites. We had amazing seats thanks to our friend Keely who sat on the computer clicking the buttons until she got the ones we wanted.


Here are a couple snap shots:

Casey shouting "WAKE UP, JEFF!" Jeff woke up. Casey was pleased.

This was Marcie's expression during a lot of the show-- you couldn't tell if she was scared out of her mind or just surprised. I'm not sure she knew. As a side note, the school sent her home in underwear that day, and we didn't realize it until we were in our seats. She did a fantastic job staying dry, even though it meant me trekking her up the steep, steep stairs twice to go to the bathroom. I had to carry her part of the way, and boy did I get a work out.

There were these two young women at the concert, on the floor, who caught our attention. They appeared to be at the concert without children. Let me repeat that. Without children. None of their own. No younger siblings. No one they were babysitting. They were actual Wiggles groupies. And the weirder thing? They didn't stick around after the concert to try and hook up with any of the Wiggles. Jason walked near them back to the car, and overheard their conversation about the newest Wiggle, Sam (who replaced Greg at the concert). Weird.

Hanging On and Letting Go

I'm a little bit of a pack rat. I like to hold on to things that have sentimental value. Or that I may want or need some day. Even when I can't, for the life of me, think of how I will need that item.

And I don't really like change. I suppose I'm a bit of toddler in that way. I like it when the expectations are clear. When I know what's going to happen next. I don't like taking risks. Or even contemplating changing my life, really. Even though I'm a worst-case-scenario planner. Which is borne of hatred for, or more accurately my fear of, change.

So going to law school wasn't that bad. But becoming a lawyer. Well that's a pretty big change. I was still reeling from my decision to take a "teacher on special assignment" position to work in teacher training at the County Office of Education for a while. Leave education entirely? Never. I don't think I ever really thought it would happen.

But today it did. Because today I had to submit my official resignation as a classroom teacher to my school district. I know, I know-- some of you didn't even know I was a teacher. Or tenured. But I was. And there was this great sense of peace in knowing that I could always just go back to the classroom. Which I absolutely loved. It beat me up. Teaching. I'm not very good at saying no, and I always ended up on a million committees. And every minute I gave to the school and the district and my students was a minute I wasn't giving to my family. And I wasn't really being compensated for it in the traditional sense of compensation.

I know that leaving teaching is right for my family. Right for the bigger picture. My kids will be better off because it means, eventually, that they will have a full-time, at-home parent. And I know they'll benefit from that.

But letting go of the title. And more importantly of the security. Well, it's been hard. And I've waited until the very last day to do it, knowing I would but not feeling ready to let go yet. But as a tenured teacher on a leave of absence this year, I was holding a spot that could be given to another teacher -- a teacher who might otherwise lose their job in this giant pink-slipping mess that the California budget has thrown our public schools into. And so I know it's only fair to resign. To let someone who plans to teacher in the right here and the right now have the job position. But knowing that intellectually and feeling okay with letting go-- well, they just aren't the same thing.

So today I feel a little sad. I know resigning is the right thing to do. If anything, it will push me to be a better attorney-- I can't take the attitude that if things don't work out, I have something else. Because this is it.

And I wonder-- if I have this much trouble letting go of a job, how on earth will I ever let go of my kids? In the best sense of the phrase I mean-- in the sense of letting them be their own people; in the sense of supporting them as they take risks in their own lives. If only I could just freeze this moment in time-- and yet, I know that each passing day, I love them more. I learn from them. And I want for them to be independent, self-sufficient, self-assured people. So let go I must. Little by little. Gradually. I'll never be good at this letting go thing. But in my heart and in my mind I know that one of my most important jobs as a mother is to do just that.

Blue Screens Galore

Last week or the week before I downloaded a This American Life story on my i-tunes at work. I'd planned to sync it to my i-pod and take it with me to the gym or for a walk. Instead, I got this awful error message that asked me to restore my i-pod. Which meant I wiped my little Nano clean. And after I did so, it never synced again. Each time I restored and then followed the instructions, it would recycle back to the message telling me a horrible error had occurred and I needed to restore the i-pod.

So I gave up and decided to wait until I got my precious Dell laptop back. I'd loaned it to my friend, whose own Dell was a little less than reliable, so that she could use it to take the bar exam.

This morning, I decided to boot up my Dell and plug in the i-pod to see if the damage would magically get undone.

Instead, not thirty seconds after booting up, I got a blue screen telling me something was terribly wrong with my laptop and I needed to shut down immediately. I repeated this process three times. Then I went and dragged Jason out of bed. He had the same experience. So he worked his magic for a while and then asked me about a bunch of applications on the computer and whether I'd installed them. I don't really install anything on my computer on purpose. And so we quietly cursed my friend. We talked about un-installing the exam software she used to take the bar, blaming that as blue-screening the computer. Which of course didn't make sense because I'd had the exact same software on this very computer for the past three years.

In the end, it turned out it was our wireless connection. Once we dis-enabled the laptop wireless, the computer began functioning just fine. And so I feel a little badly about blaming my friend. I wasn't even mad at her. Just mad at the not knowing what happened.

But the computer trouble didn't end there. Oh no. Because then I decided to see if I could get my i-pod functioning again. The thing is that I'm not particularly technological. And Jason is. And so I pretty much rely on him to fix anything computer related. And I think that really irritates him. But he's so much better about trouble-shooting. At one point he turned to me and said, "Why is it that you have three degrees and you can't figure this out? Why do you think my one computer science degree means I can fix anything?"

My response? "It doesn't? I think a single degree in the computer science trumps English, Spanish, Education, and Law degrees when it comes to things computer related, don't you?"

He grumbled.

"Well, you could at least tell me how you would approach solving the problem-- tell me where you'd find the solution. How you'd figure out how to fix it."

He rolled his eyes. "I'd google it," he replied.

"Well, you're at the computer now. Can't you fix it?"

A heavy sigh later, and I decided it'd be best if I just left him alone. So I went off to change so I could go for a light job. Jason following not long after and sheepishly admitted: "I turns out it's not you after all. It really is the i-pod. I think it's gone."

And then he disappeared. And when I returned from my jog, my miracle-worker husband had unlocked the key to the i-pod mystery. He fixed it. And I have all my music back. And I have my This American Life story back. And I've vowed never to plug my i-pod in to the i-tunes at work.

So here I sit, typing away on my beloved Dell laptop, i-pod charging next to me. And I'm a happy girl.

Happy Easter

Sorry for the delayed post. I was feeling weird about downloading all the photos to my work computer. I got over it. Then I couldn't find the card reader. But I found an alternative solution (obviously). I wish the light were better in Jason's face, but I think it's a good photo. The kids picked out their own outfits. . .

We started the morning by checking out what the Easter Bunny had done:

As you can see from this photo, the Easter Bunny drank the chocolate soy milk, ate most of the carrots, and even ate the two colored, hard-boiled eggs the kids left for him. He was kind enough to leave his egg peel trash in the bowl for easy clean-up. In return, the Bunny left each kid a basket filled with goodies. Fortunately, as I explained to Casey and Marcie in advance, I wrote the Bunny a letter this year and asked him not to bring too much candy. All that sugar just isn't good for their teeth or their moods. So the kids weren't expecting much candy. What they got was better than candy. They each got a pair of shoes (Casey finally got his beloved N shoes, which I've written about before. They are yellow and black "with no ripping," just like Casey said). They both got a monkey cup with matching tumbler and four dry erase markers. They both got two peanut butter eggs (which I ate because they didn't like them!). Marcie got markers and a pad of paper. And Casey got 101 Dalmations. The Bunny obviously thinks our kids our great because he even left them stuff at Grandma and Grandpa's house, too.

After pulling everything out of their baskets, the kids posed for a photo opportunity:

I must admit, this is probably one of my all-time favorite pictures of the kids. Even though it's out of focus and blurry because of their activity. I mean, they are literally posing. How can you not find that funny? After they posed, they ran off to watch the beginning of 101 Dalmations.

Then, we went to church, where the kids were unusually well-behaved.

Marcie insisted on wearing her new, pearl pink Crocs. The kids mainly entertained themselves with Cheerios, and books, which they read out loud. It wasn't too distracting. I had to laugh, though, when they each held up the books teacher-style, as if showing the pictures to the class. The "class" was the row in front of them, the backs of people. But they didn't seem to mind, and their activities were keeping them quiet enough that I could actually hear the priest speak. Too bad what he had to say wasn't so impressive. But that's another story.

After church, we let the kids get some donuts and juice, and we headed home. I threw our ribeye roast in the oven, while the kids finished decorating our traditional Easter Bunny cake. This year, we decided on chocolate cake for a white bunny with a brown bow tie. The ears are a little lopsided. I think this bunny is just tilting its head:

The jelly beans above the bunny's eyes are hair, according to Casey. And if you're wondering, our kids don't actually eat the jelly beans. In fact, this year, they each got one piece and the remaining bunny went to my office so everyone else could enjoy the sweets.

While our roast was, uh, roasting, the kids convinced us to take them to the park. It's at the end of our street, and Casey asked to ride his bike. So we let him give it a try:

He actually did a great job using his brakes. And the most impressive part is that he actually rode the bike all the way home-- even though we live at the top of a hill! It's time to get him a real bike, and I think Marcie will be pleased when she inherits this one.

After about 40 minutes at the park, we returned home for lunch. Mmm. Ribeye roast, mashed potatoes and broccoli. Plus sparking apple cider (which I refer to as "apple soda"). The kids tried lemonade for the first time, which in retrospect was probably a mistake. But I can't undo it now.

The kids were ready to nap right after lunch. Actually, Casey asked to nap during lunch, then returned to the table saying he couldn't sleep. He didn't end up napping; he just read books to himself in bed (and I use the word "read" loosely, of course). After Marcie was finished napping, we completed our family egg hunt. The backyard is undergoing a renovation of sorts, and it's covered in black tarp instead of grass, which is why we conducted the egg hunt in the front yard:

We don't use actual eggs in our hunt, because I have this fear one will be left behind and will stink up the yard. So this year I filled the plastic eggs with dark chocolate almond MnMs (blech) and stickers. Casey got probably two or three times as many as Marcie, but it doesn't matter because we pool the Easter goods. We dumped all the candy into a quart-sized ziplock, and the kids will get 4-5 for dessert each day this week, and then we'll tell them they're all gone. Even though they will either be hidden on top of the fridge or thrown out (in which case I suppose technically they are all gone). Thankfully, they don't really have a concept of portions and amounts, so they will take us at our word and we won't have to fight with them about why we don't want them having so much candy. But I digress.


After our egg hunt, we headed off to Jason's parents, where his dad prepared a delicious ham meal. Marcie's Godmother "Aunty Tiffy" and her fiance were there, which was fun for me because I had someone to chit chat with. Mostly we talked about weddings and Jessica and Jon's baby (that's Jason's other sister and her husband). We're so excited to add another child to the family.


And that was our Easter. It was lovely. Low key. Beautiful weather. Family. What more could you ask for, really?


I hope your weekend was as relaxing and enjoyable as ours. Whether or not you celebrated Easter.

Oh. And to my friend Alison who I know reads my blog, good luck on the interview. I know you'll rock it. And to the rest of you-- please keep my friend Alison in your happy thoughts. She has a job interview Thursday for a position that she really wants. I know she doesn't need our wishes of good luck, but it always feels nice anyway, doesn't it?

Boy-Licious

So it turns out there's a baby boom going on around me right now. And it's mostly boys.

After hearing my friend Lisa's good news that she'll be arriving in China on April 10th to meet her new little girl, I also got the news that my sister-in-law is having a boy. And that Casey's teacher is having a boy. And that one of the teachers in Marcie's area of the school is having a boy. And now one of my good friends, who was pretty sure she was going to have another girl because that's what she'd mostly planned for, has learned she, too, is having a boy.

I'm so happy for all of them. Parenting Marcie has been very different than parenting Casey. She so communicative. And much less rambunctious. I have this theory that boys are "easier" when they're older (puberty and beyond), and girls make for more stable toddler and preschool years. I know there are exceptions to this, but it's what I think. So when we had Casey first, I thought, "Yay. Let's get all the tough stuff over with while we're young and can move quickly." That's the advantage of boys. We'll see. I've probably just totally jinxed myself.

A Little of This, A Little of That

A few of you have written to me to inquire as to my well-being. Thank you. It's so thoughtful! I am, indeed, alive and kickin'. I don't really have any great excuse for my lack of blogging. A few weeks ago, Jason's computer bit the dust. "Not to worry," I told him. "You can just switch over mine and use it. I can do work on my work laptop."

So that's what he did. And all was right with the world. For about a week. Then one afternoon in the study, there was a POP and the smell of an electric fire. My computer had crashed, too. Jason figured out the problem and resolved it. But I'm still without a home-computer. And I feel weird about using my work computer to blog. Even though I'm not on the work system. I'll be getting my personal laptop back soon. But I'm sure I'll come with another excuse for not blogging.

In the meantime, life's just been plodding along. We sure do manage to keep ourselves busy. We're in the midst of a yard re-landscaping. Sort of. Jason has managed to dig up the weeds from the side yard and the back yard and lay down plastic to make sure everything dies before we dig it all out so we can put in the new stuff.

This means I get to do the really fun stuff with the kids while Jason's out working in the yard. For instance, last weekend after music class I took Marcie to this fancy third birthday party for a little girl in her class. Then, right after I walked in the door, Jason put Marcie down for a nap, and I walked right out the door with Casey. We went to see Horton Hears a Who, during which I fell asleep. I know this because at one point, Casey asked me if I was okay. At least he didn't wander off in the theater while I cat-napped.

On Sunday, we went for a walk to our local Original Pancake House, where Casey proceeded to practically inhale five pancakes. I can't even eat that many pancakes!

Also going on is our toilet training experiment with Marcie. And I think experiment is really the right word for it. Marcie has been trying. But I'm not sure that's good enough. There's really no trying-- there is or there isn't. At least when it comes to toilet training. I mean, she's either going in her pants or she's going in the toilet. There's really no in-between there. And when she's having a good day, she's having a very good day. Like the day we went to the zoo. No accidents. Not even in the car. Not even though she fell asleep on the way home. But if I don't force her to sit on the toilet every hour, well, it can be disastrous. And the thing is, the poor girl tries to clean up after herself! This morning, for instance, after she pooped in her little potty, she tried to pour it into the toilet, but it got on her hands and arms, then she stepped in some. Then she walked all over the house. Anyway, I think you get the idea.

So that's where things are. nothing spectacular. Just another couple regular ole weeks.

But Easter is coming. And the rumor is the Easter Bunny is visiting the kids at our house and at Grandma and Grandpa's house. Talk about spoiled. I'll post pictures. I promise.

Smiles All Around

This has been a week of smileyness. I don't think it's a word. But that's okay.

On Tuesday, good friends of ours who started their adoption paperwork not long after we did finally received their referral after a 27-month wait. They'll be traveling to China to pick up their daughter in April. And their daughter is from Chongqing, just like Marcie! She's also enormous, just like Marcie. And by enormous, I mean 17 pounds at 7 months. Off the Chinese charts.

On Wednesday, our kids visited the dentist. It was Casey's third time, but Marcie's first. Casey did a fantastic job letting them take x-rays and sitting still, mouth wide open for the polishing. The hygienist said he was her best behaved patient of the day! The dentist was impressed by the cleanliness of Casey's teeth, and the receptionist seemed surprised that we were walking out the door with two cavity-free children!

Marcie didn't appreciate the dentist experience as much as Casey did. She pretty much screamed tearfully the whole time he was looking in her mouth. Fortunately, screaming forces her mouth open, and that made his job relatively easy. I mean except for the noise and the wiggliness.

After we got home, I took the kids for a walk. At first I thought it was odd that so many people were smiling and laughing as they drove by. Especially male drivers. Then I remembered what Casey was wearing:

He's been wearing this costume in all his non-school time since it arrived on Tuesday (as a reward for 20 good behavior stickers). Even to bed (sans cape because we have a no-cape-to-bed rule-- too easy to get wrapped up and choked up in it). Glad I could provide the neighborhood some cheer.

And then today, we got word that our newest arrival (coming this July or August) will be a nephew. I already knew this unofficially because Jason has this uncanny knack for guessing a child's gender in utero before the 16-week ultra sound, and last week he offhandedly (and unintentionally) referred to the baby as a he. But today's phone call from Jason's sister confirmed it-- it's a boy. So that leaves Marcie with six male cousins. I think it's high time a family member produces a girl around here! Regardless of gender, we're looking forward to welcoming another S. child into the extended family fold. . .

Supermarket Club Membership

Today I joined a club I'd hoped I'd live to never, ever join. Yet, as I stood in the aisle of our local Albertsons, feeling testy, I heard myself say it: "Casey, I'm going to count to three, and if you don't get over here by the time I get to three, we will just leave. One . . . Two . . . Three. " Then complete panic.

Of course I left. I toted Marcie over to the front end manager, who I am confident recognized me. I explained that one of my kids was being difficult and that I'd left my half filled cart next to the grapes. I failed to mention that I lived less than five minutes away and that I'd be back momentarily to finish the shopping. Fortunately, he read my mind. Because after I deposited Casey into his bedroom in a five minute time out and reminded him that I placed him there, not his dad, I returned to the grocery store. Where my cart was still parked right next to the grapes, where I'd left it.

Today's supermarket meltdown was not entirely Casey's fault, of course. A series of mistakes led to it. But it was mostly his fault. Here's how the day went:

1:00 pm the kids went down for a nap after kissing Aunt Megan, Uncle Timour and Grandma good-bye and thanking them for their visit.

1:05 pm Megan, my mom and I headed to Target to get some shoes. While there, I saw some shoes I knew Marcie wanted, so I picked them off the shelf to purchase for her. But at the check stand, my mom insisted she pay. And who was I to argue.

Fast-forward to 3:00 pm, when I woke up both kids from their naps. In an attempt to give Marcie some special attention because Casey is always getting stuff, I made mistake #1:

Me: Marcie, look at these special shoes Grandma bought for you. Let's try them on and make sure they fit.
Marcie: (cooing)
Casey: What did Grandma get for me? Did she get me shoes?
Me: Uh. . . well, Casey, Grandma knows you have lots of shoes and she didn't want to pick out something you already had or wouldn't like, so she asked me to go get some shoe with you from her. Would you like to do that?

Now what was I thinking? Why did I ever mention my mom paid for them? Why promise Casey shoes anyway? But the damage had been done because Casey knew after his snack that we were going to pick out some more new shoes for him.

Then it happened. Mistake #2:

Me: Okay, Casey, let' s go see what Target has.
Casey: I want N shoes.
Me: What are N shoes?
Casey: N SHOES, MOMMY.
Jason: But what are they, Casey?
Casey: I told you already. They are N shoes.
Me: Do they have them at Target? Can you show us?
Casey nods his head yes.

WHY didn't I insist he show me on the computer or on TV before we headed to Target? Why didn't I insist that he had to pick from the Target selection no matter what before we'd even left the house?

Well, I didn't. So off to Target we went. And they didn't have the N shoes he wanted, whatever those are. And then came Mistake #3-- going to a different shoe store.

And while at the different shoe store, we found shoes with an N on them (New Balance), but I could tell it wasn't what Casey wanted. And as the minutes passed, poor Casey grew more and more desperate to find shoes-- any shoes. He just didn't want to leave empty-handed. Why didn't I see that coming?

[And as a side note, we had a weird interaction with the sales woman in the shoe store-- who first saw me with Marcie, pleasantly let me and the kids know she could help us if we needed anything, and then noticed Jason come up behind me. She commented to us: "Oh, now I see where she gets it. Wow. She looks JUST like her dad, doesn't she? That's amazing! I have four kids and two of mine look just like me and two look just like my husband. It's the same." We didn't say anything. We just smiled. Because we didn't quite know what else to do. I mean, she sounded relieved and that made me feel uncomfortable because what does she care if we all "match" or not.]

And finally came Mistake #4. After we returned home, which we were able to do only because we practically dragged a sobbing Casey out of the shoe store, I told Casey he could stay home with Jason or come grocery shopping with me. Both Casey and Marcie opted for the grocery store. But once we pulled into a parking spot at the store, Casey began to whimper that he'd wanted to go to a different shoe store. I explained that we'd have to wait on the shoes, but that he could help me put stuff in the grocery cart.

Of course the shopping wasn't enough to occupy Casey. He took control of the cart when my back was to him, pulling something off a shelf, and he rammed the cart (and consequently Marcie's hand) into the shelf. I was fuming. Marcie was wailing. And Casey was running. When I finally caught up to him and put him in a time-out near sitting on the shelf beneath all the gift cards, he began pulling cards off their little racks. An elderly man walked by and commented to Casey, "Mind your mother," which caused Casey to spit at me. And things just went down hill from there.

So in the end, the shopping got done, Casey got over his disappointment, and things have calmed down. As I type this, Casey is hanging over the arm of the chair in which I'm sitting. He just leaned in to me and said, "I'm sorry for pushing Marcie and hurting her at the store." And he gave me a kiss. And he just asked me what I'm doing because he's recognized his name twice and Marcie's, too, and he wants to know why I'm typing letters that are their names. It sure is hard to stay mad for long around here. . .

Ah, Stereotypes

Is this funny? I know, sad I have to ask. I kind of think it's funny. But then I remember that shirt adoption is the new black, and I know people who were amused by it, but I didn't think it was amusing at. all. Perhaps I don't have a sense of humor about the right things.

Anyway, I got an e-mail from one of my sisters in law, who happens to be Asian (as in, from the continent of Asia-- it's an intentionally ambiguous ethnic descripter). I think it's hil-ar-i-ous. Jason thought it was funny. And so I'm going to share. . . I was wondering if Marcie would think it was funny, too, because she is Chinese. But then I realized that her interaction with stereotypical Asian families will really be kind of limited to other families because, well, I'm not Asian, and the majority of her extended family isn't either. Then again, I'm not Asian, and I think it's amusing.

Ok, enough of a build-up. Here goes:
Top Ten Reasons Why There Won't Be an Asian President Any Time Soon:

10. White House not big enough for in-laws
9. Engineering, medicine, and law always preferred over politics
8. Oval Office has bad feng shui
7. Can't find decent roast duck inside the beltway
6. Secret service can't handle nagging from mother
5. Dignitaries generally intmidated by chopsticks at state dinners
4. No chance for promotion
3. Lactose intolerance not considered politically correct
2. Senior aides won't take off shoes before coming in
1. Air Force One: No frequent flyer miles

And while we're on the topic of stereotyping, Jason added a number 11 to the list:

11. Job does not require math

Yeah. Even typing it in, I still think it's funny and not offensive. What do you think?