Cuddling Casey

This morning I had one of those incredible moments where I felt like I actually did the right thing. It's rare. In parenthood, I find myself frequently re-analyzes what I've said and done-- wondering if it was the right thing for the kids. But this morning, I nailed it. And it. Felt. Good.

Some time in the middle of the night (I think around 2am), Casey wandered into our bedroom whining, and asked to get into bed with us. I don't particularly like sleeping with Casey. He is a wiggler and a kicker and a bed hog (at least Marcie, when asleep, is relatively still). And not only did he squirm his way between us, even though I'd offered to take him back to bed and lay down with him, but he complained that he wanted Lightning McQueen. His giant one. The one that talks. So I crawled out of bed and returned to his room with him, where we located the giant Lightning McQueen toy (which I turned off so it didn't go zooming of his bed if he accidentally knocked into it during the night). Back in our room, in our bed, Casey curled up with his Lightning McQueen and fell fast asleep. Right in the middle of my side of the bed. I, on the other hand, went back to Casey's room, curled up on his bed, and fell asleep myself. I awoke around 5am, returned to my room, retrieved Casey (and Lightning), and put him back in his bed. Then I climbed back into my own bed to sleep until my alarm went off a bit before 6am. I'd venture to bet Jason doesn't even know Casey and I traded places for several hours in the middle of the night. The man can sleep. And I am jealous.

Anyway, when my alarm clock went off, I checked to make sure both kids were asleep, and darted into the shower. I had finished getting dressed and was completing my make-up when Casey wandered into our room around 6:15am (yes, I'm speedy). He wanted help making Lightning talk. We took the toy into the family room, where I made Casey breakfast and we watched an episode of Dragon Tales (well, he watched. I made his lunch. And mine. And prepped Marcie's bottle). Around 6:45am, Casey went with me to wake up Marcie. And we did. And she drank her bottle. At this point it was 7:00am. I was aiming to leave the house at 7:15am so that I could have them at their grandmother's by 7:30am this morning. Casey still wasn't dressed (because it's really better if he eats breakfast in his pajamas in case he spills). He had curled up on my lap, alongside Marcie, during her feeding. And when she was finished, I announced that he could either brush his teeth or get dressed first.

Then the shouting began. Him, not me. NO! I left the room and got Marcie half changed. I heard Casey yelling for me. When I came back to the family room, though, he was still in the chair, with a blanket. "Are you ready to brush your teeth?" "NO!" he screamed, as he followed me into his bathroom. I turned on the water to wet his toothbrush. He screamed, "NO!" I asked him to open his mouth so I could help him brush, and he screamed, "NO!" (Though I snuck the toothbrush in while he was opening his mouth to shout, so I managed to get his teeth brushed.) By this point, all the yelling had woken up Jason, who shouted from the bedroom, "Do I need to come out there?" I called out back, "No thanks. I actually have it under control."

Once his teeth were brushed and his hair was combed, Casey led me (and Marcie) to his bedroom, where he got dressed. In the end, I tossed him his socks, and I asked him to put them on. Instead, he walked over to Marcie and (admittedly, lightly) stomped on her back. She didn't even cry. But I lost it. I scooped her up and shouted (which is actually kind of rare for me): "YOU STAY IN YOUR ROOM! THIS IS NOT ACCEPTABLE BEHAVIOR! WE DO NOT KICK MARCIE! WE DO NOT HIT MARCIE! YOU JUST STAY IN HERE TILL I COME BACK!" And I slammed the door shut. I then very calmly carried Marcie into our bedroom, and set her on the bed with Jason to play before returning to Casey.

Now, at this point, you are probably wondering what the heck I am so proud of. So far not so good. What's with all the yelling? How can anyone feel calm and safe with all that racket? You're right. The yelling was not-so-good. But Casey has such a hard time focusing, and my raised voice definitely got his attention. . . If I hadn't yelled and I had just closed the door instead (which I have tried in the past), he would have opened it right back up. . . Anyway, when I returned to Casey's room, I sat down on the floor and asked him to come sit on my lap. I held his face in my hands gently and asked him to look me in the eyes. And he did. And then I told him:

Casey, I love you very much. When I am not with you all day, I miss you so much. And even when I'm helping Marcie, I still love you. Did you know that? But hands are not for hitting. We do not hit Marcie, do we? We do not kick Marcie, do we? Are we supposed to poke Marcie? (No.) Are we supposed to pinch Marcie? (No.) Are we supposed to stomp on Marcie? (No.) Mommy knows that Casey just wants extra attention from Mommy and that sometimes it's hard to share. But I love you Casey, and if I could be anywhere in the world, I'd want to be with you. Even when I'm at work, I think about Casey and Marcie all day. I miss you, and I can't wait to see you at the end of the day. Did you know that? (Yes.)

And then I hugged him, and we snuggled up for a few minutes. And he was an ANGEL for the rest of the morning.

I feel like I finally did something right.

New Years Resolutions

Are you a believer in them? If so, I'd love to hear yours . . .

Here is mine:

To make it through the next seven months in one piece, without gaining weight, and without getting sick more than once a month.

Think I can do it? Believe it or not, the "without gaining weight" and the "once a month" moratorium on illnesses-- especially that one-- might be difficult. Our pediatrician reminded me today that healthy children who are NOT in day care get sick an average of 12-13 times per year, and those in day care get sick even more often. Whew! Hope my immune system is a bit stronger than a healthy child's!

The Lowdown on the Girlfriends

It's hard to be my friend. I don't mean that in a self-loathing or self-pitying way. It just is. Not because I'm high maintenance. Or because I get jealous easily. Or even because I expect a lot of my friends. At least I don't think I do. But I am a complainer. I always have something to complain about. And if I'm not complaining to my husband-- and often even when I am-- I am complaining to a friend. Add that personality quirk to the fact that I'm rarely free for anything social, and my circle of friends is, well, limited.

That said, I am a friend for life. If you've been my friend any time in the past, you could call me up at any time in the future-- I would most definitely remember you, even if I lost your address somewhere along the way and failed to continue sending Christmas cards. And I'd want to hang out. Because despite the fact that it's hard to be my friend, I am a total loyalist. And when I make friends, they are pretty much people I'd want to re-encounter over the course of my life.

So despite my unavailability (though, to be honest, if any of my friends called me any time day or night in a crisis, I'd drop just about anything and go running), there is a small group of people who seems to have been able to really put up with my constant complaining. And in honor of the new year, I thought I'd publicly express my gratitude toward these women. . . who really help sustain me throughout the year.

Let's start with D. She is my oldest friend. I met D in second grade. She skipped first grade and landed in my second grade class. I'm not sure if it was the day she joined our class or the day after-- but I simply asked, "Want to be my friend?" And we have been ever since. That's pretty amazing-- to find a girlfriend who will stand by you through all the boy-chasing of elementary school recess, through the awkward first menstrual cycle of sixth grade and the discomfort of the "group" showers required after PE when I was the only one with boobs. A girlfriend who stood by me through first kisses, voted for me (I assume) in school elections, worked on high school projects, and shared a limo to Senior Prom with me (and my date, of course). Heck, she even went to Homecoming with my husband once! And when we went off to college, we stayed in touch-- less regularly. But somehow, we always managed to pick up right where we left off. She sheltered me during my first real heartbreak (that would be Greg in the 8th grade) and during my first adult heartbreak (that would be Mike). She was with me when I got married, when I bought my first car (without my parents' help), and when Jason and I bought our first house. We used to joke that she'd have to come visit so that we could finally conceive a child (and she acted appropriately grossed out by this suggestion). And even though we live across the country from one another and our lives have, at least momentarily, taken different paths, there is a mutual respect, a mutual comfort, a mutual love. I know I'm not describing it with justice. . . But when that Bette Midler/ Barbara Hershey movie Wind Beneath My Wings came out, it became our movie. I always though D would be a performer-- she has an amazing voice, and she even sang at my wedding. That's not where life has carried her, but I hope she knows that I would always be content being the wind beneath her wings. Even though we are so very far apart, I know that she is a true kindred spirit. And I feel blessed.

Next there is A. A is my best friend here in San Diego. We met in graduate school, the first night of class. As we made chit-chat that night, we discovered that she knew (and once dated) my then-boyfriend's younger brother. We were immediate friends. We completed our teaching credential program-- she as a math teacher and me as an English teacher. We hung out. We drank coffee. Her family took me in as one of their own, including me in holiday meals. I can't explain it, but I felt instantly like I had known A forever. Perhaps what sealed the deal for me was falling asleep on the floor of her apartment that year, sobbing, heartbroken (over the aforementioned breakup with Mike). A and I attended church together, walked together, and just hung out. At the end of our first year as friends, we agreed to move in together (with another person), but somehow the deal fell apart-- I don't even remember the details anymore, to be honest (which is pretty rare for me). What I do remember is that somehow it didn't destroy our friendship. And that made me feel completely relieved. Because A is a keeper-of-a-friend. We don't share a common view on politics, and we don't always see the world the same way. But A is genuine, and fun-- and so darn patient. Here we are, in the same city, and sometimes we can go a week or two without talking. And just pick up where we left off (as you can tell, this is a very importat quality for me). A just gets me. She, like D, has been there to help me celebrate the big things-- and to pick me up when devastation hits. For example, A really helped carry me through the infertility rollercoaster. And still loves me.

A and D are our son's godmothers. Casey is lucky that way. (Not to say Marcie isn't lucky-- she has her aunts as her godmothers, so she is pretty darn lucky, too!)

Next comes G. Eight years ago G would not have made my list of top girlfriends. This isn't because I didn't know G. In fact, I met G the same year I met A. She and I met because we were working on our Masters degrees in the same program, and we frequently paired up on projects because we were the only to secondary teachers. Interestingly, G has been there for all my major life moves except my marriage. I hadn't even begun teaching yet, but G treated me like a veteran-- someone with real expertise. I don't know that she even realizes she did. But her cheerleader approach to relationships is really uplifting, and I think she single-handedly gave me the right ego boost for a successful start to a teaching career. We lost touch after that first year, talked again not long after I was married (and she'd left teaching temporarily), then reconnected randomly a while later. G and I work together now. She is the reason I have the job I have, in fact. And I think G is probably one of the wisest people I know. She is definitely more a giver than a taker. She holds her cards close to her chest-- and I respect that. But she is so kind, so caring-- the kind of person who really understands what motivates the people around her, who really anticipates their needs, and then just takes proactive steps. G is the whole package. She gets that life needs balance, and she reminds me to strive for that balance all the time. And, of course, she listens to me gripe on a very regular basis. Lucky, lucky me. Seriously.

Last, but definitely not least, is K. I used to work with K. And truth be told (and I'm not sure she even knows this), I wasn't thrilled about hiring her. I sat in on the interviews, and though K was absolutely qualified, I had selected someone else as my first choice initially. Now, in my defense, I hadn't been working there that long, and I wasn't expecting to ever become friends with my co-workers. My life was so crazy, so busy. The last thing I was expecting was a friend at work. But boy am I glad we hired K. She has taught me so much about being a grown up. You see, K grew up in a totally different world than I did. She is the kind of person who won't go out in public without make-up on. Who wears designer, fitted clothing (and looks stellar in them), and who has a clear sense of appropriate customer service. Plus, K taught me what lunch should be (and it's not eating greasy grilled cheese at my desk). K and I became friends from going to lunch and chit-chatting. Well, that and her listening to me complain. G once described K as discriminating, and that is exactly the right word for her. She has such a keen sense of style-- and K is a researcher. Boy, if I haven't looked into something, K definitely has. If you want to know what baby gear to buy, or what car to get, I can assure you, K will have researched it. Thoroughly. It's pretty amazing. Plus K is so helpful! At Christmas this year, I needed to get gift cards to two stores, neither of which is anywhere in my neighborhood. And since I was meeting K for lunch later in the week (she's taken a leave from work), she said she'd do it for me! How nice is that-- kind of a personal shopper of sorts (hey, that would be a kick-butt job for her! I should mention it). K is a loyal friend-- and she's so good at it. She really keeps in touch with her girlfriends, and I find that pretty incredible.

Of course there is more to each of these four women than I've expressed in this far-too-lengthy post. I know I haven't done them justice. And what's crazy is that although each of the four of them knows all about the other three, and would probably love each other, I never hang out with all four at once-- either because of distance or timing or something. But I am one lucky girl to have the friends I have. The ones who have stuck it out with me during the past 3 1/2 years of law school and listened to all my complaining. I hope they know how grateful I am for their friendship, for their love. Most of all, though, I hope they each know that they inspire me to strive to be a better person and a better friend . . .

P.S. Thankfully, they don't seem to mind my prolific writing style!

Happy New Year!

So today begins a fresh, new year.

A year ago today, a couple friends of ours had their dossier received by the CCAA (Chinese Center for Adoption Affairs) in China. Today, Jan. 1st, marks the one year anniversary of their paperwork arriving in China. The one year anniversary of the start of the official wait. Their daughter is over there somewhere-- perhaps being born today. Perhaps not yet born. And another year without her has passed. But the good news is that this is the year they will meet her . . .

What else does 2007 have in store? 2006 was a big year of change. Jason changed jobs-- technically twice. I finished another year of law school. I worked for the summer at a terrific, family-friendly law firm here in San Diego. And even got a job offer from them for post-graduation. I ran two half-marathons and trained for a third. Jason competed in a Brazilian jiu jitsu tournament and nearly choked out his competitor-- a guy double his size and weight. Casey started a new preschool-- full day-- and actually began making friends. And speaking in complete sentences. We lost Chuffy, one of our beloved pugs. And of course, we met Marcie (and some terrific families on the trip to meet her). We celebrated birthdays and holidays with friends and family. We were generally healthy (unless you count my bazillion colds, which are really minor things). 2006 was a good year for us. Sure, we had our moments-- who doesn't? But we hope 2007 treats us just about as well.

So what do we have to look forward to in 2007? Casey turns four in just a couple weeks and will have his first friend-focused birthday party. He'll continue in full-day preschool, playing soccer, and going to speech and occupational therapy for help with his auditory processing issues and his sensory integration issues. I will take a leave of absence from my career as a teacher. At the end of this year (my final year year of law school, thankfully), I will have been in school as a student for half of our marriage. I'm not sure I remember what it was like to be married and not be a student! I will also sit for the California Bar and start a new job. Marcie will continue classes at The Little Gym, and she will start preschool this fall (already!). We're hopeful she'll be able to start full days at the same school where Casey is when I start working at the new law firm. We also are planning a big family trip this year-- out to Ohio to attend my high school debate partner's wedding and to visit with Casey's birth family. Then down to North Carolina to hang out with my parents. And maybe Jason and I will get to pop up to New York-- I haven't been there since I was 11, and Jason has never been there. Jason plans to resume Brazilian jiu jitsu this month, and I have to figure out how to add exercise into my soon-to-be crazy work/school schedule. But figure it out, we will. We always do. . . And life will keep marching forward. . .

Finally the Christmas Trip Photos

Picasa (owned by Google) has a new feature that I think beats Flikr, so I'm going to try it here. Let's see how easy it is to view the photos from our trip to North Carolina, including the captions, by using Picasa's web album. You should be able to see all about our Christmas Eve Eve (December 23rd) by clicking the picture below. If you want to watch the slide show (with the captions embedded in the photos!), just select "slide show" in the upper left corner of the photo page of the Web Album. Enjoy!

Christmas Eve Eve in North Carolina

And here is Christmas Eve:

Christmas Eve in North Carolina.

And here is Christmas Day:

Christmas Day

I didn't take any photos the day after Christmas. I spent pretty much the entire day holding Marcie, who was uncomfortable with a new cold. But here are photos from the 27th and 28th:

December 27-28 in North Carolina.

And here are the photos from the 29th, our last day with the family in 2006:

December 29 in North Carolina.

Candy Cane Court-- Spectacular Lights

Before our trip to North Carolina, Jason and his dad took the kids over by "Candy Cane Court" (not the street's real name) to view the holiday lights. If you recall, I was too sick to go because I had the flu. We'd read that they keep them up through January 1st, so we decided to head on over tonight. About half the lights were turned off, and there were no crowds. But the remaining lights were still pretty spectacular. Here are some of our photos:

Here's what the kids looked like at the end of it all:

Back Home Again

We're home. Yesterday morning, all of my remaining family (one of my brothers and his family left the day before, my grandparents returned to Florida, and my dad is off working because he is still not senior enough to get a Christmas vacation-- despite the fact that he's been with the company since March of 1978 and will have a forced retirement in less than three years) mosied on over to Bob Evans. If you don't know about Bob Evans, you are probably from west of the Mississippi (unless there are Bob Evans restaurants west of the Mississippi-- I've never looked). Despite the fact that they offer a smoking section (blech), we like going there when we are east of the Mississippi-- the food, breakfast in particular, is relatively good.

Anyway, they seemed a bit annoyed that we weren't willing to sit in smoking, and also that the twelve of us weren't will to cram into two booths designed for four people each (let's see-- 12 people, including 5 kids, crammed into a space for 8-- that's asking for some major mayhem). So we got a table together. The kids were pretty good waiting for their food. Marcie even colored! I couldn't believe it. She colored with crayons by herself. Now, don't get me wrong. It wasn't in the lines or even straight or anything. But since Casey only started coloring in the last 9 months and he is 3 years older than Marcie, I was pretty floored.

Breakfast was delicious, and we returned home for some packing. Marcie napped and the kids ran around outside. They are a bit loud outside-- but isn't that the whole point? I guess not to the golfers on the 7th hole. My parents' house backs up to the tee for the 7th hole, and apparently the noise can be distracting. But hey, it's only once every 3 years for crying out loud! And fortunately not many golfers came through.

My mom, sister, and I also snuck out for a tiny bit of retail therapy over to Birkdale, which is just across the street from my parents' neighborhood. My mom wanted to get me a Christmas gift, which was fine with me. :) And though I call it "therapy," I'm really not much for shopping. But it was nice to get some time with my mom and sister all the same.

We finished packing up our things, and when I went to change Marcie's diaper, I noticed a . . . um . . . reaction down there. The skin looks like it's sluffing off or peeling. So I called our pediatrician in California who indicated it's probably an external yeast infection (who ever heard of that?!?) and to use Monostat cream. Crazy, huh? And off to the airport we headed.

Our flight was full (of course), but we had a whole row together. Casey slept the first half of the flight and watched some videos the second half. Marcie slept the second half of the flight. And Jason and I were able to read quite a bit. There were some bumps along the way, and when we landed, Casey cheered: "Yay Mommy! Yay Daddy!" On our way off the airplane, the pilot even let Casey pop into the cockpit to check out the digs. It was neat because Casey knows one of his grandfathers flies airplanes for a living, so we got to "show him" where Grandpa works.

Jason's parents were waiting for us when we arrived at baggage claim (boy were we all glad to see them!). And then an episode of keystone cops ensued-- because Marcie dropped Grandpa's car keys on the bench seat and we didn't realize it until we got to Grandpa's car. Harbor Police was closed. And when I asked information for them, they asked me to describe them. Uh. Hello? It is a pile of keys. No key chain. Just keys. With a tiny grocery store tag. What kind of car? A truck. A white one. A Ford? I don't know. Probably. Fortunately I seemed honest enough, and they handed them over so we could get home.

The kids went right to bed and slept (gloriously) until 7am this morning. When Casey woke up, he expressed incredible interest in all the toys he'd expressed no interest in while we were in North Carolina, including the camera he got from one of his cousins. It'll be fun to see what pictures he's snapped!

So we're home. Marcie and Casey and I all still have our colds. But we managed to survive the grocery store. And take a nap. And tonight we are headed out to see Christmas lights before they are all pulled down. It's hard to believe the holiday season is almost over. And I still haven't finished sending out our Christmas cards! Aargh!

You can see pictures of our last day in North Carolina by clicking the photo below:

December 29 in North Carolina.

Poor Baby-- Updated

Literally. Marcie has not been feeling so hot. Other than her constipation experience, I've never seen her so very miserable. She sits in my lap and just whines in pain. We've been alternating Motrin and Tylenol, which has helped keep the fever down, but now we are on day three of a fever-- at 101, so we are off in search of an urgent care facility. Her whole body looks raw, she is so red with heat. And she's pretty listless. Poor baby. At least she was healthy on Christmas day to experience that!

Update
So after just about an hour at urgent care, we have been able to dose up Marcie with an antibiotic for her double ear infection. I asked the doctor if we need to have her checked out before we fly home tomorrow-- or if she can even fly tomorrow at all. He said we brought her in very early; her ears are nowhere near rupture (thank goodness) and after a couple doses of the antibiotic, she should be back to her usual self.

Here's what was interesting (and suspicious): He said we don't need to alternate the Tylenol and Motrin like we have been-- said that's the "old school" way. Said studies now show that Motrin is more effective because it reduces inflamation in addition to be a pain reliever. Now, there is no question that the Motrin has had a better effect on Marcie than the Tylenol. But I was under the impression that we alternate so that she doesn't build up a tolerance to the Motrin. So I'll have to ask our pediatrician when we get home. In the meantime, after just one dose of Motrin and one dose of the antibiotic, Marcie is in much better spirits (though she has a gross and snotty nose).

South Cackalackie

She's here! You can read her blog here. But she drove on up to North Carolina to visit us for an afternoon and a morning with her beautiful and amazingly polite daughter Emma. Emma and Casey got along famously (he kept telling her she has beautiful hair!). We're looking forward to seeing them this morning before they head back home. . .

The Big News

No, I'm not pregnant.

But guess who got engaged Christmas morning?

My sister, Megan. Her fiance, Timour, had our nephew Leo deliver the box. I caught it all on video, but I haven't tried to figure out how to upload it yet, so you'll just have to take my word for it. Megan literally screamed, which startled Casey, who thought she was hurt, and cried out, "Oh no!"

So I will post a photo of the happy couple in a bit. And update Christmas, too. But not right now.

Christmas in North Carolina

Whew, it's been a while since I last posted. I didn't have much to write about until a couple days ago. After the flu, it was all about cleaning and doing laundry for our trip. I can't remember if I've mentioned it, but every three years, my family gets together wherever my parents are to celebrate Christmas. It's every third year so that we have one year with in-laws, one year at home (if in-laws aren't local), and then one year with our side of the family. This year, we have my grandparents, my parents, all three of my siblings, their spouses/significant others, and their kids here. It's pretty crazy, but pretty cool. My mother is a saint for hosting it. Not only must it be insanely expensive (extra electricity, gas, and food to feed all eighteen of us), it's kind of chaotic. Well, organized chaos, I guess.

Before we left for North Carolina, though, we did manage to steal some time to head up to the Wild Animal Park with the kiddos, where they saw Santa. I'll have to scan in the photo, which is of me with both kids-- one is smiling and the other is screaming. Can you guess which is which? Poor Marcie. Hope we didn't traumatize her. It's still a cute photo. I love going to the holiday thingy at the Wild Animal Park. They have snow for the kids to play in, a scavenger hunt, and special animal talks. On the 21st, we saw an owl and a golden eagle. Pretty cool stuff.

We left town on Friday, hit the red eye for a flight to my parents' house in North Carolina. Now if you are wondering why I had time to pack up and head out but not time to send you a Christmas card, no worries-- I just didn't get to all the cards yet and didn't bring them with me. But one will probably be arriving shortly after Christmas. When you're sick and stuff, something's gotta give, and this year it was Christmas cards (that and baking, which is fine because my sister is a way better cook and we knew we'd be headed for her delicious snacks for a week).

Casey was super excited to ride on a great big airplane. The crazy airline gave us split tickets. Casey and I had a window and a middle, with Marcie on my lap. Jason had the other middle seat in the row. This was particularly irritating because I'd confirmed our seats, which were supposed to be a middle, an aisle, and an aisle. Fortunately, this insanely nice man with the aisle seat traded his aisle for Jason's middle seat. I hope he gets some good karma for making the switch! After we'd settled in, a flight attendant came on the loud speaker and said they needed three more volunteers-- they were offering a night in a hotel room, guaranteed seats on the first flight out in the morning, and two round trip tickets for each seat given up. I wanted to totally go for it, but the kids were pretty well settled, so we decided to stick it out. It was pretty bumpy-- bumpy enough that I was actually secretly grateful my whole family was on the flight. I just figured if we were going to crash, we'd all go down together, and that saved me from mentally going through the details of my will during the turbulance (does anyone else do that?!?).

My parents were waiting for us at 6am when we landed-- very impressive considering they'd shuttled my brother's family home around 1am that morning. The boys (all five of them) were so excited to see each other and to play with the trains. They are all pretty close in age-- the oldest just turned 5 in August, Casey turns 4 in January, the next one just turned 4 in June, then one turned 2 in July, one turned 2 last week, and Marcie is 1. This makes them pretty great playmates.

The weather has been pretty temperate. Yesterday we were outside with the boys, playing in the grass and the leaves. And today we took a walk with Casey, Vince, and Marcie over to Birkdale, where they have animatronic singing bears (the one named Blue actually sand Blue Christmas). As we pushed the boys home, we all sang Christmas carols.

This afternoon we ventured off to Christmas Eve Mass, where we started with a rendition of Happy Birthday, Jesus. I've been thinking a lot about how irregularly we attend mass and how we should go more often, especially because Casey should be starting Sunday school in the fall. But then, when we are there-- I totally remember why we never go. Casey can never make it past the homily. Today he started chewing cheerios (which we probably aren't even supposed t have) and spitting them out on the pew. Megan took him to a play area to play in the sand, which he loved of course. Marcie flirted with the people behind us (I should pause here just to note I get a lot more stares here with Marcie than I do in San Diego. I'm not sure if this is because Marcie doesn't look like me -- and this is not so rare in San Diego, where there are lots of mixed race families. But it is just as likely it's because she is so darn beautiful. So I'm going to assume the latter, because it's a much nicer thought). Then she wanted to climb out of our arms and crawl around on the floor. I think I caught about three words the priest was saying during the whole mass. But I'm determined not to skip the big holidays, at least. My dad admitted, as we were leaving, that when my older brother and I were young, my parents took turns going to mass. And when he was out of town, my mom hired a babysitter. That figures.

After church, while we were getting dinner ready, my dad played the accordian for the kids, and we sang and danced. I love that he plays the accordian. I tried to convince him to play it during the cocktail hour at our wedding, but to no avail. Anyway, then we sat the kids down to eat pasta and meatballs. Marcie gobbled hers right up. Casey insisted on chicken nuggets for dinner, and we obliged. Then we had Christmas poke cake (which is white cake with green and red swirly layers from the jello poured into the cake). We sang happy birthday with a lotus candle for fun-- and it was pretty cool. Sal (the oldest cousin) even commented, "That's just like fireworks." And indeed it was. Hours and hours later it was still playing happy birthday -- until Jason finally dismantled the battery. We grown ups ate dinner while the kids watched The Polar Express. Marcie sat with us and ate some lasagna.

Dinner was followed by a tiny bit more of play, then setting out cookies and milk for Santa, then off to bed. We set out soy milk this year because Tram (my younger brother's wife, whose name is pronounced Chum) suggested that perhaps Santa is a bit lactose intolerant. Jason pointed out that he probably takes Lactaid if that's the case, but since we have the soy, we used it. Karin (my older brother's wife) recited a (memorized!) version of 'Twas the Night Before Christmas before we tucked in the boys for the night.

And so here I am. I have pictures to go with all of this, of course-- including some excellent photos of stockings hung by the chimney with care. I'll even have some great shots of the FULL stockings tomorrow. There are eighteen of us here, celebrating Christmas together. And the stockings are hanging via 3M removable clips. So I'll be impressed if the mantle and the stockings are still hanging in the morning, after Santa has filled them all up. Tomorrow or the next day, I'll download and post them. I doubt anyone will be reading this on Christmas anyway, so by the time you read this post, photos will probably be up. If you are reading this on Christmas day, Merry Christmas!

Please check back soon!

Road Rules

So we drive two regular 5-passenger sedans. I balked at any SUV or SUV-crossover because I'm barely five feet tall, and while riding up high is nice, I'll be darned if I have to hike up the side of my car (even with a step bar or whatever they are called) in heels to haul my kids into their car seats. So sedans we drive for now. We have them arranged with Marcie's Britax car seat on one side in the back seat and Casey's Britax booster seat next to the opposing door. The middle seat is empty (well, unless you count empty chip bags, baggies that held cheerios, juice boxes, and random toys and extra clothing). Though we can actually fit the seats side-by-side, it just makes it easier to buckle them if we have them separated like this.

Anyway, in a booster seat, the shoulder-belt has been essentially re-adjusted to align appropriately with Casey's shoulder so that it doesn't cut into his neck. But he almost immediately figured out how to remove the shoulder part, tucking it under his arm, to increase his mobility. The first time he did this was before Marcie arrived. I threatened to pull the car over. He could tell I was not kidding. He put it back. And that was the end of the issue.

Until Sunday. On Sunday evening, after picking up the kids from Grandma's and buckling them into their respective child restraints, I headed home. About seven minutes down the road, Marcie started crying. Now Marcie isn't the kind of child who just cries at random, for no reason. So when I came to the light, I turned and looked-- and lo and behold, there was Casey, leaned across the back seat, smacking Marcie's arm repeatedly. I don't think Marcie was hurt so much as she was irritated. I barked at Casey to put on his seat belt and he told me no. I threatened him with no television for the rest of the day if I had to pull over the car, but he was not going to budge. So I pulled over, gave him a good talking to (during which he laughed in my face, literally), and fixed the seat belt. Displeased with his attitude, I kept the television off that night.

Then yesterday Casey and I went to pick up Marcie from Grandma's house. I should have reminded Casey on the ride over that "hands are not for hitting" and that the seatbelt needs to stay in place. But my mind was not on the incident from the previous day, so the time passed with me neglecting to "prepare" Casey for the situation. Once again, about seven minutes into our drive, the same thing occurred. This time when I raised my voice, Casey laughed. Hard. So I stopped yelling. I got very quiet. I pulled over the car to fix the belt. I told Casey was was not happy with him and that he would have no TV because of this behavior. I tugged the belt snug, and home we went. Where Casey passed yet another evening with no television.

We have such willful children. On the one hand, this is very trying. On the other hand, it means they are independently-minded, and I think that will be a good thing in the long run. I'm just glad we decided to start trying for kids right away. If I'm tired now, I can hardly imagine how I'd be feeling with such stubborn kiddos in another 10 years!

Yummy Yucky

I don't know how many of you out there are familiar with the book Yummy Yucky, but Casey loves it. In fact, he's memorized it and he will "read" it to you if you ask. Of course, while he reads it, he alters some of the grammar-- like instead of saying "Mommy's cookies are yummy," he says, "Mommy's cookies is yummy!" (And every time he reads this line of the book, my husband and I chuckle at the wording.) And some of the words have been changed, too-- like the line in the book that says, "Burgers are yummy." When Casey reads the page with the picture of the burger, he calls it "bao" (the word in Cantonese for bread). The next page-- the one after the burger-- is what brings me to the point of this post. The page after burgers says, and "Boogers are yucky." And when he reads the page with the picture of the little boy with his finger up his nose, he recognizes that boogers are involved somehow. I'm not sure he really understands the gravity, though.

You see, after reading my friend's Grosser Than Gross post over at South Cackalackin (if you haven't yet checked out that blog, your really should. I was so bummed when Elizabeth decided to shut down Macy Day, but I love South Cackalackin-- she is a great writer, just like Elizabeth!), I thought I'd add my two cents here. Of course no one can really top the grossness of that post, but Casey has recently learned the expression, "Ew! Gross!" And I've been trying to put it to good use.

I discovered Casey understood the term the other day when Marcie leaned in to kiss him (she is really lovey-dovey that way-- it took Casey years to learn to kiss us, but Marcie came kiss-ready), and Casey, after leaning forward to accept the kiss, leaned back and exclaimed, "Ew! Gross!" Of course I said it wasn't gross and that Marcie was showing how much she loved him and on and on and on.

But this morning when Casey picked his nose and ate it while I watched, I couldn't help exclaiming "Gross!" myself. Of course it had the opposite of the desired effect. Casey thought it was absolutely hilarious and screeched with laughter when I said it-- like it would be a fun game to play. I can hardly wait to see what grossness he'll come up with next just to get a reaction out of me. . . do I ignore it? My "stern" tone doesn't really work in these situations-- so if you have any suggestions, I'm certainly open to them!

New Teeth

In all my self-pitying, I forgot to post the biggest news of the week. Marcie has two new teeth. Her eye teeth, actually. So cool!

Foiled by the Flu Again

So this weekend was supposed to be an action-packed, fun-filled winter-wonderland weekend. We had discussed taking the kids to our community's Candyland celebration, viewing the lights of Candy Cane Lane, and perhaps even taking in the lights at the Wild Animal Park. There was going to be carolling, and snow, and Santa, and lots and lots of bright lights.

I was going to spend some of Friday evening working on a paper (I've been working on for a week or so to revise), then wrap it up on Saturday. No problem!

Well, life had other plans. On Friday, I woke up at around 4:15am to shower and dress and hit the rode to Long Beach. Fortunately for me, my mom is three hours ahead and she was willing to chat with me for about 45 minutes of my drive. I'm not a very good "distance" driver because I get sleepy so easily, so talking on the phone, ironically I suppose, helps me stay alert. Anyway, I arrived at my destination a bit early, and I set off to find a bagel, but I found McDonald's instead. So I indulged in a egg mcmuffin with no meat. Following my business in Long Beach, I hit the road again, and headed back to San Diego.

I stopped to fill out some paperwork at my school district, to grab some scrapbooking stuff, and then I headed in to the office (stopping along the way to apply for Marcie's social security card). As a side note, I needed everything to apply for that social security number-- her original birth certificate, our adoption registration, her passport, my passport, her proof of citizenship, and her medical card! I sure am glad I brought it all with me!

Anyway, I did some work in the office, felt a little queasy, but forced half a frozen mac n cheese down my throat, and then left the office to head over to scrapbook. Not 30 minutes in to what was going to be a nice evening treat, I really started feeling sick. The kind of sick where I wasn't sure I'd make it home. So I packed up and left, again relying on my mom to keep me focused while driving.

I fell into bed and woke up to Jason coming home with the kids. Let's just say he was a little ticked off. He thinks I over-extended myself and that was why I was feeling sick. Until he felt my head and we realized I had a fever of over 102! (Well, for the record, he still thinks I got sick because I don't take good enough care of myself.) Anyway, I spent most of Friday night moaning and groaning from the aches and pains until I finally vomitted up everything I'd had for the previous 24 hours around 4am. I still felt awful yesterday, but I dragged myself out of bed long enough to get a package in the mail to my parents' house.

Of course, after waiting in line for an hour and a half to mail the darn thing, I learned that the post office would be open on Sunday! I wish I'd known that before waiting in line. But at least it gave me the opportunity to wrap the presents we'd purchased last week for Jason's sister and her husband to mail to them in Seattle today. And what a difference a day makes. They had the same number of employees staffing the post office, but there was no line!

And so here I am blogging when I should be working on that paper-- which is exactly what I'm going to do as soon as I finish this post. I'm feeling better today, though definitely not fully healthy. Last night Jason and his dad took the kids to see the beautiful lights at Candy Cane Lane, but instead of walking, they drove because it was pouring down rain. Nothing compared to waht they are experiencing in Seattle, mind you.

So a friend of mine who I met while in China and I have been comparing the number of illnesses we've experienced since meeting our girls. For me this makes 5 colds (it might be 6), 1 urinary tract infection, and the flu since August 21st, 2006. That's insane. It's probably a record-- and not the good kind to hold.

At least Casey and Marcie are relatively health . . . for now.

Mother of the Year

Now there's an award I won't be winning any time soon. Mother of the Year. Yup. Not even in contention on that one. The most recent reason for why is Casey's Holdiday Program at school. Somehow everyone else in the class got the message that they were supposed to pick up their children early yesterday and change them into appropriate, dressy attire for the program. Not us. I'm thinking the note went out on Friday, when pick-up wasn't in the classroom, so we didn't get the papers from Casey's file. Boy did I feel stupid. Take a look:




I blurred the photo to try and cover the other kids' faces, so hopefully they aren't recognizable bu tyou can still see what they are wearing. Notice Casey in the middle, in his sweatshirt and jeans. And notice all the other kids around him-- the girls in fancy dresses and the boy in a suit and tie. Yup. I blew it.


The sad thing is, I could have picked up Casey and taken him home to get all dressed up yesterday. I had the beginnings of a migraine headache, though, so when I left work early and found myself passing the preschool at 5pm, instead of picking up Casey and taking him home to change, I went home and laid down for 20 minutes, then went to get Marcie. Our original plan was not to pick up Casey early anyhow (because we didn't realize we should change him). Even more sad is that I could have easily brought him a change of clothes to wear-- I mean, I made cookies over the weekend and I took them to work with me so I'd have them. It wouldn't have been more work to bring his adorable snowman Christmas sweater with the matching courdoroy pants his grandmother picked out. She even hemmed the pants and took in the waist so the outfit would fit him correctly. Again, I blame myself for not knowing I was supposed to dress him up . . .


Though, my guess is that everyone who knows Casey just figured, "Oh, he refused to dress up so they just brought him in what he wanted to wear. That's SO Casey." That's what I'm hoping anyway. . .


Another reason I won't be winning mother of the year? I forgot to put the media card in the digital camera before I grabbed it. I remembered to charge it up, but I didn't check to make sure there was memory! What an idiot! Fortunately, I was able to take four photos, and I did bring the video camera, so we have the whole show on video.


Speaking of the video, this brings me to the final reason (in this episode) for why I won't be winning Mother of the Year any time soon. In the video, you can see (and hear) all the children in Casey's class singing the words to the song beautifully. Now, there's no question that Casey knows all the words to the songs. He and I sang them before bed together on Sunday night. We've been practicing for a couple weeks. But did Casey sing them for an audience? Of course not. Instead, he stood in the very center of all the children half-singing, half-shouting, "WHO WHO WHO, WHO WHO WHO!" Jason was laughing so hard at this, I think the video camera might have been shaking. And those of you who know Casey probably think this is totally amusing, and very Casey-like behavior.


So why would Casey do this when he knows all the words? Well, first because it got him quite a lot of attention. But also because I didn't feed him dinner before the show. I didn't even give him a snack. Casey always gets a snack on his way home from school before dinner because it helps keep him focused. But not last night because his lunch bag was in the classroom, behind some tables. And I forgot to go locate it to feed the poor kid. Now he still had dinner before 7pm, so it's not like it was the end of the world. But I am confident that if I were a better mother and had picked him up early, gotten him dressed appropriately, and fed him a snack, I would have saved the teachers a boatload of anxiety during the show. Not to mention eliminating my own embarrassment.


Someone commented to me, when I explained how mortified I felt, "Well, you can't do it all-- give yourself a break-- you are in school and working, too." Even if this is true, it is just not good enough. That's just no excuse for dropping the ball (particularly because I took my last final last week and haven't really worked on my paper since then-- but even if I were still in the middle of finals, it wouldn't be good enough). I chose to be a mother. I knew it would be hard to balance with school and work, but it's what I wanted more than anything in the world. To shirk these small responsibilities is totally unfair to Casey. . . Thankfully he won't likely remember this Holiday program and my sub-par parenting skills. And I am pretty sure it will never happen again. Of course, we do have it on video now, for all time. . . what a whacky period of our lives. . .

Disneyland

So we'd planned a trip to Disneyland for Sunday. We thought it'd be fun to take Casey to see the parades and the Christmas decorations and Mickey Mouse.

Wanna see our photos of the day? Here goes:

This is Casey hanging out on the couch. After he "frewed up" Friday night and Saturday, he wasn't in the mood to meet Mickey Mouse on Sunday, so we had to cancel our Disney plans.

Marcie wouldn't have understood what the heck Disneyland was anyway, so I don't think she minded. Besides, she was happy as could be playing with Casey's unopened Gatorade bottle. . .

The Lady at the Vet

So today when the kids and I were leaving with Pugasus from the vet's office, a nice woman came in with her cat. Casey crawled up next to the cat and meowed at it from outside the kitty carrier. Pugasus wanted to sniff the crate, and the woman commented that they were in the process of adopting a rescue pug. I told her all our pugs had been rescue pugs over the years and asked which rescue organization she was using. When we adopted our first dog-- Mr. Bojangles-- we used Pugs n' Pals. After he passed away, we moved a little closer to home by using Little Angels Pug Rescue for Chuffy and Pugasus. And now San Diego has a pretty active Pug Rescue group, Pug Rescue of San Diego (yeah, real original name-- but that's so people can find them easily, I'm sure!).

In any event, with each of the pet adoptions, we had to complete a pretty lengthy questionnaire about why we wanted a pug, why a rescue dog, how much made, how much we thought we'd spend, and so on. And they sent someone to our home to check out the yard and make sure it was dog-safe. And they asked us to sign a contract promising to neuter the dog (they all were when we got them) and promising that we would not give them away and if something happened making it impossible for us to keep the pugs, we'd return them to the pug rescue group. The whole process took something like a week or two each time. Then we went and picked up the dog or dogs and we brought 'em home to given 'em love.

So back to the story. I don't actually remember which rescue group the woman said she was using because her next comment threw me for a loop-- even though I know she meant it as a joke. She said that she couldn't believe how much work it was to adopt the pug. She said that she thought it was probably harder to adopt a dog than it was to adopt a child-- and explained that the application was lengthy and the organization interviewed her and everything. Even though I knew she was being rather tongue-in-cheek, I just couldn't help myself. I said, "Well, all our dogs have been rescue dogs, and both my kids are adopted. And I can assure that the pet adoption process pales in comparison."

Was that mean of me? I just felt weird that she was comparing the process of adopting a child to that of adopting a dog. I'm not saying pets are inferior to people. Wait. Yes I am. I am saying just that. I love our dog. But when push comes to shove, my kids will always come first. I would never mis-treat our dog. I would never let anyone else mis-treat our dog. But seriously, adopting a dog and a child-- not even in the same league. I think I really embarrassed her. And for that I'm sorry. Was I being oversensitive? Probably. I didn't get much sleep the night before. But really. No. comparison.

Vomit Galore

There's a scene in a movie (the name of the movie escapes me) where there is a pie-eating contest. As the contestants stuff their faces, they start looking a little green. Then one pukes. Then another, and another, and another-- a total chain reaction. I call this chain-puking, and I am a self-professed chain puker. I've never actually vomitted upon observing someone else throw up, but I certainly have gagged. Like last night.

Casey was so excited about us putting up our Christmas tree, that he went down a little late-- maybe around 9pm. Jason and I stayed up to watch a bit of TV, and around 10pm, Casey called out to us. Jason went to check on him and told me I should "come see this." (Now after 7 1/2 years of marriage, you'd think he'd do everything in his power to help me avoid seeing that scene!) Casey had, in fact, puked all over himself, then rolled over in the vomit-covered sheets and gone back to sleep.

I was a bit miffed Jason needed me, but to his credit, he did all the throw-up cleaning up. And shame on me for not putting the plastic pad over the mattress pad the last time I changed Casey's sheets! It would've prevented the nightmare of getting the vomit out of the mattress. Anyway, I threw Casey in the shower (I actually got in with him). He threw up again in the shower. Then I helped him get on some clean pajamas and invited him to come lay down on the couch next to me. He did that for an hour or so, and then asked to sleep in my bed. I got him all set up in my bed, which lasted for about another hour before he threw up again. (And yes, I did leave him a bowl to throw up in, but the kid's not quite four yet, and this is his first real vomitous experience, so who can really blame him?) Fortunately, it didn't soak through the sheet, which we then pulled off the bed.

Jason suggested we sleep on the couch. Not the pull out queen sleeper, but the regular old leather couch. This worked for me for about another hour or so. By the end of that time, my head and my feet were supported, but Casey had shoved the rest of me into the empty space of the L-shape of the couch, and I wasn't sleeping at all. So I got up, made up our bed again, and transferred Casey back into it, I got into it, and Jason followed suit. Then I started the dry coughing (because of the cold I'm getting over).

It felt like I'd just fallen asleep again around 2:30am, when Casey woke up and wanted water. We padded to the kitchen together, me carrying his throw-up bowl, and he had a couple glasses of water. Half of which he gagged back up into the bowl. I begged him to take some pepto bismal, but he was not having it (though he did offer to take some fish oil-- how crazy is that?). I dissolved as much as I could and spoon fed him water. Then back to bed.

I slept restlessly until 5:00am, when Casey woke me up again, thirsty. This time he insisted it was morning. I know he was technically right, but it was still dark-- and I was not having it. He drank some more water, then went back to sleep.

At 6:00am, Marcie woke up hungry. I gave her a bottle, then she went back to sleep (miraculously). I crawled back in bed around 6:15am, and then Casey was up again at 6:30am, pointing out this time that it was light out. So we offered to let him watch TV in bed in our room. Which he did until 7am, at which time he wanted to watch something we don't have TIVO'd on our TV. So up I got. Which was fine, really, because I needed to get Marcie up and fed and dressed for her Little Gym class.

After Little Gym, Marcie and I headed to Costco to purchase new tires for the Camry. The cork was showing on one of them, which is very bad. Jason and Casey picked us up, we dropped off Jason at work, and then we ran home to pick up Pugasus for our vet appointment. From the vet, we went to the Toy Depot, which has an amazing (and way over-priced) selection of Thomas the Tank Engine toys because Jason promised Casey last weekend that we'd go there this weekend. And then both kids fell asleep in the car on the way home. I put Casey right to bed, but I had to wake up Marcie to feed her.

Jason returned home (with the Camry sporting new tires) right around the same time Casey woke up from his nap. Burning up. I took his temperature, and what do you know-- 102.6. Yikes! So be forced Tylenol down his throat, and watched his fever drop to normal over the next hour. And then Casey threw up again. He hadn't eaten anything, really, though-- so it was just liquid. All over the hallway flooring, the carpet, and the wall. Lovely. Lucky Jason got to clean it up. But Casey must have been feeling a bit better because then he asked for popcorn. And actually ate it. Nothing else, but popcorn is better than nothing.

He sat with us through dinner, though he didn't eat anything (despite the fact that we'd actually prepared him all his favorites-- pizza, white rice, and apple sauce-- and offered him others-- peanut butter on a spoon or chips--). At bedtime, he asked to sleep in his own bed, which I made up with the plastic protector this time. And that was almost three hours ago now. Keep your fingers crossed for us . . .

News from Marcie's Orphanage: Chongqing Yunyang Chengxiang SWI

When our group was in China, we all chipped in to buy a digital camera for Marcie's orphanage. The digital camera is for taking photos of the orphanage, and more importantly for taking photos of the children so that families waiting for travel authorization can get updated information during the wait.

Today we got a thank you message from the orphanage forwarded by our agency. Here is what it said:

Our orphanage had received the donation of 2630 RMB. We had spent the money 1780 to buy a digital camera and babyoutfits of 850 RMB to help our orphanage abandoned and orphans. Your love brought them the hope and helped keep their life moments. (photos attached).

On behalf of our orphanage, we would like to extend our sincere thanks to you.

Best Regards,
Chongqing Yunyang Chenxiang Social Welfare Institute
October 30, 2006

Even though the note specifies the money spent on the camera, Marie (our guide) actually purchased the camera and showed it to us before delivering it to the orphanage. In any event, here were the photos they sent with the note (I've left them full size in case someone who wants pictures of the orphanage for their child can use the images):





This is a photo of the entrance to the Yunyang Chengxiange Social Welfare Institute (where Marcie lived from age one week to age 9 months)



This is a photo of the one of the rooms where the babies sleep. You can see in this photo that the children are a little older because they are sleeping with one child in each crib. In some of the photos we got back from our disposable camera, there were shots of two or three girls in a crib, but they were standing up, and that leads me to wonder if they were placed there just for the photos. . .



This is a photo of some of the blankets and clothing our meager donation provided.