No Bunchy Pockets

Back to blogging

2009-08-27T20:12:00.000-07:00

Wow, it's been a long time.
Wish I had some amazing story to tell -- but it's just been busy, busy, busy, leaving me little time to sit at the computer. Well except for work stuff. And after all the writing for work, there has been little energy, enthusiasm or time to write, well, just for me.
But I'm back. Hopefully.
School started this week, and both kids seem happy. I'm still not quite adjusted back to the schedule, but hopefully by Monday I'll feel back in the swing of things. I miss summer, though. It wasn't exactly relaxing, but we got away twice (beach in FL, beach in NC) and that was lovely. And in July we celebrated Chakisae being home for three years (and made lots of comments about how we can't believe it's been three years. On the other hand, she's so embedded in our lives, sometimes it's hard to imagine it's only been three years).
(Photos from Naples)

A new dog

2009-04-04T19:23:00.000-07:00

We've gone nearly four years without a dog, which seems a long time, given that until our sweet old Koppel's death in the summer of 2005, I'd had a dog ever since I finished school. The kids really, really wanted a dog (Ben, of course, remembered Koppel, Kisae just loved the idea of a dog). I wanted a dog. Jim loves dogs but worried about the time and energy they require. But he finally decided okay.
So last week, we visited a rescue shelter -- thinking we'd just talk to them. But there was a small, cute Corgi mix who seemed to meet our requirements (gentle with kids, housebroken, okay home alone). And so now he is ours.
He is a small bundle of sweetness with the softest fur ever. The kids are head over heels about him. Kisae keeps saying, "I love him so much. Him legs so cute. Him bottom so cute. Him the best dog." Ben has better grammar but the same views.
His name is Murphy.

Should we worry? (even a little?)

2009-03-16T19:20:00.000-07:00

Been too busy, too stressed and too sick to blog for ages, but finally feel like jumping back in, so here goes.

As I've written perhaps before, Chakisae adores Ben and almost immediately upon joining our family latched onto him, sensing that he was the other kid, and she should be with him. One of her first words was "jump!," which she would wail when she spotted him on the backyard trampoline, and she hadn't been invited.

She often wants "same as Ben," right down to asking what he's having for breakfast before making her own decision. Though she often does make her own decisions -- there are times when I have this little tiny worry about her security or insecurity as it relates to her brother. Of course, I'm not sure that even makes sense.

But consider: She and Ben were both drawing pictures on "big paper." I praised her picture; I praised Ben's. Ben was done, however, and she was still working.

Chakisae got furious. She thought we didn't like hers; that it wasn't as good as Ben's (which, though we didn't this, was pretty nuts, since her brother only draws quick, crazy Godzillas, and she actually loves to draw and seems to have some talent in that area, in the 4-year-old kind of way).

But she would not be mollified. Instead, she got out another piece of paper and proceeded to copy Ben's big crazy Godzilla. She would not eat until she was done; she even wanted to copy his name (it was in cursive, so she didn't recognize it).

We were a) kind of amazed at her copying skills and her perseverance but b) just sorta/kinda wondering if this "same as Ben" attitude should give us pause.

Well, actually it's me that wonders this. I don't think Jim worries about this at all.

Of course, some older brother adoration is normal. Is changing your shirt so you're both wearing the shirts Gramps sent? Is agreeing to decorate your face like his with magic marker? (yeah, probably). But what about refusing to go to lunch with Grandma unless Ben comes, too? Or wondering, when Ben is at a friend's house for dinner, if he is lonely without us (as if!).

Maybe this is all normal. But I wonder, just sometimes, if it is some sign of an adoption insecurity, although I can't quite put my finger on just what it would mean.

Which maybe means it is nothing more than that she really, truly adores her older brother. And that is pretty wonderful.

A play date planned

2009-02-18T18:57:00.001-08:00

As I was cooking dinner last night, Kisae was at her usual spot on a stool at the kitchen counter. She was writing out the ABC's, as usual, and talking, the conversation bouncing around as conversations with 4-year-old's usually do.

And then quite unexpectedly she told me she was going to write a letter to Barack Obama. Because she wanted to ask him, "I play with his girls?"

So she got a new sheet of paper and told me she was going to write, "Dear Barack Obama. I go to your house and play with your children?"

She didn't, of course, write those sentences. But she did insist I tell her how to spell Barack and Malia and Sascha and then the word "president," and she wrote those out very carefully, in her lopsided but oh-so-cute, 4-year-old hand.

I think she figures her White House play date is all but set.

Bad mom moment

2009-02-08T18:29:00.000-08:00

Let's just say that your kid is having a bit of problem with talking too much in school. And let's say that you are aware of this problem and, while it is not a crisis, it worries you.

So let's say that a certain Tuesday was particularly bad and the "infraction" notice sent home indicated that, once again, there was talking when there should not have been. And then let's say that on Wednesday you hoped for better. And that Wednesday afternoon, just as school was ending, your cell phone rang. And it was your kid's enrichment teacher -- and he'd been in enrichment that day. And your heart sinks and you brace yourself for the bad news about bad behavior.

But it is not that.

No let's say that the teacher is upset because your child burned his fingers on a hot glue gun. And she feels bad and she is (clearly) worried that you are going to be mad that he was even using a hot glue gun (to build a bridge from Popsicle sticks).

But let's say you do not feel mad. Not at all. You feel just RELIEF. He is only burned! (and not that badly). He did not get in trouble for talking. Whew, whew, whew.

Oh, you do inquire about the burned finger and because you have to run to the school later anyway, you say you will stop by and check in on him at his after-school program (and the errand to the school is to drop off food for a family dealing with unimaginable tragedy, which is always a good reminder that there is far, far worse out there and our little problems are mostly, well, little). When you stop by, your child is fine.

So again, you are relieved -- but honestly mostly because there wasn't too much talking, not so much about the finger.

And then you think, you got a call that your child was hurt and all you felt was relief? Bad mom, moment, right?

Adoption, explained in crayons

2009-01-29T19:58:00.000-08:00

Kisae loves to draw, so it's not surprising that when I pick her up at preschool her cubby contains pictures she made that day.

She had three little crayon drawings in her cubby on Tuesday. I was surprised only when she described one of them to me.

"That's you getting me," she said. "That's my house a long time ago."

The drawing showed something like a hut and then me reaching down to pick up her up. The crayon baby seemed to be in some kind of bassinet. Kisae explained that this was when she was a "tiny baby." The next picture was of just me and her and the last of the whole family but still when she was tiny.

At her age it's hard to know how much she processes about her adoption or how much she thinks about it. So I was totally surprised, maybe even taken aback, that she described it in crayon -- while at school.

It was sweet, and I think it's good that she's trying to understand the things we've told her. She described the pictures while we were in the car. I had to wait until a red light to turn around and look at them. They were so sweet. Truthfully, they made my eyes well up just a little bit.

(The scans, by the way, are pretty faded. Oh well).

Winter jackets? Ice on the windshields? Our brief freeze (but today high of 76. Ah).

2009-01-25T19:28:00.000-08:00

The temperatures dropped this week for about three days, dipping below freezing three nights in a row.

I grew up in NY and went to college in upstate NY, so it's not like I cannot deal. But frankly, I've just grown used to warmer temps. And now, I found it mostly just a hassle to (for a few days) dig out jackets and sweaters and drag in plants or cover them with sheets and towels.

And I was downright puzzled about what to do when I went out to the car one morning with Kisae and discovered a sheet of ice on the windshield. Of course, I don't own a scraper. So I just waited until the heat cranked up and the ice melted.

The kids weren't initially thrilled with the whole jacket thing, though when they felt the cool air and saw the frost on the grass, they agreed. The first freezing morning, Ben wanted to call his Colorado cousins and tell them it was 32 degrees. I had to stop him because a)it was 6 a.m. there and b)I knew such weather news would be hardly, well, news to them.

Anyway, the freeze is over. We had a lovely, sunny and in the 70s, weekend. My geraniums and pansies went back outside - still blooming.

Would-be stars on ice

2009-01-11T18:26:00.000-08:00

Ben has been interested for some time in learning to play ice hockey. Probably because Jim loves -- and sometimes plays -- this sport. But as a Florida boy, he's had limited opportunities to skate, much less learn to play hockey. In fact, his first three times on the ice took place in Colorado when we were visiting my brother' s family.

Still, this summer when his camp went ice skating he came back saying he was the best one on the ice. Of course, I did get him to admit that he was practically the only kid who'd ever been skating before that camp trip.

Well recently we took the kids to the holiday ice skating rink UCF had set up at Christmas time. Ben was thrilled -- and really not bad for a kid who was skating for only the sixth time in his life -- and came back determined to try hockey.

So Jim signed up for a "learn to play hockey" program at the one (that I know about anyway) rink in Orlando. Of course, in typical fashion Ben immediately started talking about making the competitive/traveling hockey team! We had to explain that first he had to pass through the "learn to skate" program, then he would move into "learn to play hockey," then maybe a chance to sign up for a recreational team and after that, some older kids played on the traveling team.

At least the kid dreams big. Anyway, the classes started this afternoon. Jim said he's doing well, but still needs to learn to stop. Yeah, the basics.

Chakisae skated at the holiday rink (her first time) and loved it, so I was a bit worried she'd be upset that she wasn't in the "learn to skate" program, too. But she wanted to go watch Ben today and didn't seem to mind she wasn't on the ice -- yet. Though Jim is now taken with the idea that we could sign her up, too, and maybe she'd be the first female Ethiopian hockey player. Hmm.

Donuts guys

2009-01-05T19:14:00.000-08:00

Chakisae has decided she loves donuts.

"I a huge fan of donuts, and Daddy a huge fan of donuts," she explained to me the other day.

At age 4, she has clearly figured out who is responsible for the junk food in this house.

Daddy, she added, is her "donut guy."

New Year (no resolutions but maybe a few wishes)

2009-01-05T18:48:00.000-08:00

We had a lovely end to 2008, though I'm not sure I'd call the year itself lovely.

Too much upheaval and angst at work; too much worry/stress about Ben, though I think we're on the upside of that issue (I hope).

Maybe that is why I had no desire to do anything on New Year's Eve but stay home and hang out with the family. We decided to have just a collection of appetizer/sampler type things for dinner. Ben requested latkas. Jim wanted "summer rolls" from our favorite Vietnamese restaurant. I would have grabbed some misr wat and injera but our only Ethiopian restaurant is too far away for a quick takeout run. We added some coconut shrimp and some plantains to our little international feast (also some strawberries, just to be sorta healthy).

Jim put the folding table on the patio (ah, Florida, it was a beautiful night), and we ate under the lovely glow of Mr. Tacky (our inflatable snowman).

Really, it was perfect. Than we watched Bednobs and Broomsticks, which the kids loved, though Ben expressed grave doubts when I showed him my movie selection (when will that kid learn that Mom knows things?).

We had friends over for brunch the next day, which was a low-key, enjoyable start to 2009.

I discussed resolutions with my family -- very small ones, like we'll all make our beds every day -- but no one seem interested. I think the direct quote was, "That's not going to happen."

I guess I could make it happen, but it's just not a battle I feel like waging right now.

So we head into 2009, not with a list of resolutions but just hopes that things are a little calmer, a little more upbeat -- and with the realization that many people have had a far, far rougher 2008 than we did. We are all basically healthy. Our house may be too small (in my eyes) but our mortgage is reasonable and fixed; our work may be in transition but we remain employed. We are together.

So hello 2009.

Christmas celebrations

2008-12-29T19:19:00.000-08:00

We had a fun, low-key Christmas week (how low key? well for Christmas dinner we realized all the forks were in the dishwasher, so we ate our nice meal with some red plastic ones I had stashed away). We enjoyed my mom being here, enjoyed the lovely weather, enjoyed making cookies and gingerbread, enjoying singing silly songs -- and enjoyed just being together.

Kisae was the perfect age for Christmas this year, just so full of joy and excitement. In fact, that's just what she kept saying, "I so 'cited!"

Both kids got gifts they wanted but didn't expect and, in Ben's case, hadn't even asked for (Swiss Army knife, Plasma Car), so watching their surprise/delight that morning was quite fun for us grownups.

Kisae gave us many musical performances, showcasing all the songs she'd learned for her preschool's Christmas show. It made us all very merry.

Season of Joy (and stress)

2008-12-16T20:24:00.000-08:00

Okay, I'll be honest. The last month has mostly been one of stress here, with the financial health of our company getting a little more shaky (as if the past 18 months, with two those rounds of layoffs, weren't enough) and with Ben developing some issues that have us worried (we're working on things, and I'm sure everything will be ok, but it still has me a bit unnerved).

I am trying not to be too stressed (ha) and trying to enjoy the holiday season by focusing on the little, fun things we've been doing (making treats, cutting down our tree, decorating). The kids love that stuff, and it gives me joy to seem them delighted. They're both really looking forward to Grandma's arrival next week. Me, too.

Mr. Tacky, our big, inflatable snowman that Jim purchased two years ago for the kids (and, perhaps, because he knew it would drive me nuts) presides over our front patio in all his nylon glory. Kisae loves to watch him inflate and is sorely depressed when he is not up (like first thing in the morning).

And in fashion news, Kisae actually picked out and wore a skirt to her preschool's holiday show. I was stunned. She looked adorable.

But fitting with her keen fashion sense, she insisted that she wear overalls to the Christmas tree farm. I was worried she'd be cold (her only overalls are shorts), but it warmed up, so overalls it was.

So there have been fun times, despite the worries. I must just keep reminding myself of them.

A Birthday celebrated

2008-12-04T20:41:00.000-08:00

Oh, so little time to blog these days.
But Kisae did turn 4, and she was quite thrilled with it all. "I 4! I a big kid now!" was what we heard all day.
We mostly celebrated at home, though at night we went to see Ice! - the fake winter set up at the Gaylord Palms hotel. Very cool, but also (duh) very cold. They keep it at 9 degrees (which, I'd sort of forgotten, is really very cold), so by the end both kids were freezing and ready to go.
Kisae's favorite gift was her new scooter, though she loved her art stuff and her cool tie-dyed shirt from grandma, too.
I cannot believe she is 4, though she is at such a great stage, full of fun and questions and funny observations. Like when Ben announced he was going to let his hot chocolate cool (mostly because he wanted to watch the Magic game and chocolate isn't allowed on the couch). Kisae pondered this for a moment and then said, "They call it hot chocolate because it's hot, Ben!"

Birthdays and Chicken Day

2008-11-23T20:18:00.000-08:00

Kisae's birthday is Friday. This is a long way off, in her almost-4-year-old view.

"My birthday taking too long," she has told me several times in the last few weeks. She said it again today. "My birthday taking too long!"

She doesn't quite have her birth date memorized but when someone asks her when her birthday is, she says, "day after Chicken Day."

She doesn't quite see the difference between a turkey and chicken, obviously. We keep telling her turkey but she keeps up the Chicken Day. Which makes us laugh. Which is probably why she keeps saying it.

Hang in there, honey. Chicken Day and your birthday are coming. Soon. Promise.

Busy with her book

2008-11-10T20:41:00.000-08:00

I was cooking dinner when Chakisae found herself a book and settled into the most comfortable chair in the house. I stopped her "reading" to ask if she wanted me to help her put a CD in the player. She was happy for the music but a bit annoyed that she was kept from her literary pursuits.

"Now can I get back to my reading?" she said.

This was followed a few minutes later with, "Can you tell Dad I busy and I reading, and he can't talk to me?"

Quite a display of concentration for someone who can't actually read. But not out of character for a kid who sometimes takes along a tattered copy of Harry Potter when I suggest she grab a book (I think she figures if Ben reads it, she can, too).

It did make me smile to watch be so focused on the pages -- even if she had no idea what they said.

Some views on race and the election (from the younger set)

2008-11-04T20:59:00.000-08:00

Ben's elementary school (like schools' across Fl. and the country) took part in a mock presidential election today. They also voted for a new state bird (out with the mocking bird, it seems). He voted for Brown Pelican. For bird, not president.

He said it seemed the school was split fairly evenly between Obama and McCain supporters, though he noticed clear differences based on skin color.

The white students, he said, seemed divided between the two candidates, with perhaps more of them leaning toward McCain. The black students were overwhelmingly (and enthusiastically) for Obama.

And how did my little self-proclaimed exit poller know this? Well he just asked lots of people, he said.

Hearing this discussion, Chakisae chimed in that she looked like Barack Obama. "Him the same color."

I'm still amazed that my black, African-born child will soon say of the President of the U.S.A.: "Him look like me."

I a winner

2008-11-03T19:24:00.000-08:00

I voted on Friday (early voting here in Florida). On Saturday, Chakisae discovered the "I voted" sticker I'd gotten. She smacked it on her forehead -- and declined all requests to remove it.

She wore it to a birthday party, proudly. Of course, all my efforts to take it off, to say, you don't need to wear it, were rebuffed. "I have to, Mommy. I a winner. I present (president)." Oh.

So she wore it all day Saturday. At bedtime, Jim made her take it off, figuring the cheap adhesive might start to irritate her skin. So she went to bed holding the "I voted" sticker.

On Sunday morning when I woke up, Chakisae was sitting on the couch. She pulled up her pajama top to show me that she had slapped the "I voted" sticker on her chest. "I a winner," she said.

She wore it all day Sunday. Finally, at bath time, I said it had to go. It disintegrated when I took it off and that distressed her a bit but by then it seemed to have lost most of its allure. Once she was happily playing in the water, I tossed it in the trash, and she hasn't asked for it since.

Jim will vote tomorrow. I'm telling him to keep this sticker to himself.

The Halloween photos

2008-11-03T19:11:00.000-08:00

Chakisae had a two-costume Halloween. She was a dinosaur for her school Halloween parade and Batman for trick-or-treating. Both costumes came from Ben's collection, so we were fine with the dual outfits. More importantly, she was thrilled with both her looks (you'll have to ignore her fake-serious look in the photos). Have I mentioned she is not a girlie girl?

Ben was a gangster. So were four of his friends. They were quite the cute gang (though don't tell them that. Nine-year-old boys don't want to be cute). And that is a fake cigarette -- and a fake gun (hence the bright orange). I started out as the parent who banned gun toys. Somewhere along the way, I guess I kind of gave up that fight.

Beautiful. Yes. But.

2008-10-23T17:56:00.000-07:00

I went to the park last week with my friend D., my kids, her kids (well her oldest was at ballet, and Ben was technically there but trying to to be as far away from me as possible without actually violating my don't-leave-the-park rule. But I digress).

It was lovely afternoon. At one point, we had Chakisae and J. in the swings and both girls were just having a ball, laughing the way kids do when pushed high. H. was nearby but not on the swings. A woman walked by. Not by the swings, mind you, but outside the playground area, along the paved path. She was walking her dog. I noticed her but paid her no attention.

And then she yelled, "They're so beautiful!"

I'm sure she meant well, but it was actually kind of startling. She was not particularly close to us, she was not engaged with the kids in anyway, and you just knew she would not have yelled anything, if we'd been pushing white kids on the swings. D. said she's a bit de-sensitized to such remarks, maybe because she's six years ahead of me in the adoptive parenting thing.

Maybe the women was trying to show support or approval but why do people think it needs to be expressed that way? Or that parents would want strangers shouting things at them -- even compliments? And that's the other thing, is it really a compliment if it's so over-the-top? And when will the girls start to realize that it isn't that they are the most beautiful things on earth (although they are quite the cute bunch) but that they are different looking, especially when with their white parents.

Jim says I can't criticize people for thinking Chakisae is beautiful when while we were waiting for a referral we would often looking at photos of other people's Ethiopian-born children and say, wow, what beautiful kids. But it's not quite the same thinking it as shouting it across the park, is it?

I mean I tell people all the time that their kids are cute -- when I'm talking to the parents and the kids are right there, chatting or playing with me. But I don't yell it to people who otherwise aren't paying any attention to me.

I have wondered before if some of the compliments I get about Chakisae's appearance are really a comment on difference -- or maybe just an effort to be positive but in a way that, while well meaning, starts to sound hollow. I've read that older internationally adopted kids sometimes tire of such comments because they realize they are not the most beautiful around.

Maybe I'm off base here. It probably sounds funny to complain (and that's not quite what I mean to be doing) that someone called your child beautiful. But I just keep coming back to this thought: If Chakisae and J. were white, or if their mothers were brown, there would have been no shout across the park.

Ah, Florida

2008-10-20T19:31:00.000-07:00

This weekend (finally) the high was only 80, so the mornings and evenings were cool. It was sunny and lovely. We turned the a.c. off.

The kids spent most of the day outside, riding bikes, jumping on the trampoline and Ben even went swimming at a friend's house. I didn't mind weeding the front yard, as it was so darn nice out.

This is the time of year when one can be happy to live here, this is when you start to forget the steamy, sticky weather we've had for, oh, the last six months.

A fashion statement from the almost 4-year-old

2008-10-20T19:10:00.000-07:00

Chakisae is really not into girlie stuff.

Consider: I showed her a new shirt I'd purchased (a Halloween one, orange, her favorite color). She started to tap her shoulders and then said, "I not like princess shoulders!"

By this we decided she meant puffy or gathered sleeves. Well, okay. But this pumpkin t-shirt was pretty much just a t-shirt. She said that was okay.

Every day, she tells me that at school she played with C. and J. (twin brothers) and C. (another boy). They play "bad guys and save the day and super heroes."

Tonight she explained that she did not really like to play with the girls at school because "They play dress up and babies. They not like to play bad guys."

Of course, she really does like to play with some girls. She spent most of Ben's baseball practice this evening playing with two other girls (whose brothers are on the same team). She played with D.'s girls on Saturday and had a lot of fun.

And in some ways she plays like a stereotypical girl -- she loves to color, to listen to music, to read books. And she'll do those activities, by herself, for long stretches of time. She'll play with her dolls and her animals. She'll pretend to cook and set up a tea party.

It's just that she's not coming to a party in a dress and certainly not, heaven forbid, in anything with big, puffy Princess shoulders (which is just fine with me, as I think I had "princess shoulder" jackets back in the 80s. Ick).

Reading (fun even when you can't, well, really read)

2008-10-17T20:53:00.000-07:00

Crazy week=Empty fridge

2008-10-17T20:33:00.000-07:00

I realized this morning that we were out of both milk and bread. Clearly, a sign of a long week.
I made eggs for breakfast (since I could not offer the usual cereal and milk). Ben's lunch was a bit of an adventure (since I could not make the usual sandwich) but we settled on tubes of yogurt, string cheese, pineapple, a mini onion bagel, a small pack of cookies. He said later it was delicious -- and that he'd traded the cookies for nuts.
Go figure.

This little light of mine

2008-10-15T19:58:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I look at this kid, and I cannot believe the measure of good fortune that has made her my daughter.

Three years ago this month we sent in an application to our adoption agency, with the plan to adopt a little girl. Of course, back then we were so new to the process, so unsure what it would all mean. Still we were convinced, finally, that we needed another child in our family, that adoption made more sense than trying to get pregnant again, that maybe somewhere out there in the world a child might need us.

And the bureaucratic gears turned and eventually Chakisae -- whose name means light -- was matched with us. It all seemed so random.

And yet now it is all so perfect. She is ours, and we are hers, and she is a light in our lives. And she likes to sing "This little light of mine," which is on one of her kid CD's (though it's not her favorite song. That would be "If I had a $1 million" by Bare Naked Ladies).

She wanted to go for a walk tonight after dinner, while Jim and Ben went to the batting cage. For a moment I thought about saying no, because there was the table to clear and the dinner stuff to put away, but I'm glad I said yes.

She stopped to pet the neighbor's cat but shooed me away. "You 'lergic, Mommy." She oohed the spooky Halloween decorations we saw along the way. She picked up a stick. She ran. She said a house we'd walked by many times was a "cool house" but said our house was good too, especially the hallway, which was "beautiful." She said we had to cross at the corner because that was the rule.

She held my hand. She made my day.

She does that all the time.

Kisae talks

2008-10-10T20:05:00.000-07:00

Chakisae is at the wonderful age when she is full of questions and funny phrases, where almost every conversation makes me smile or even laugh.

I was much better at writing down Ben's fun statements, maybe because he was the only kid for so long. But here are a few samples of funny/cute Kisae that I have managed to record:

When we drove by the house of a neighbor who owns a parrot that is often perched on the fence but was not at the moment: "Hey, where is that guy? Where is that fancy bird?"

When Ben was not listening to her: "Benny, your sister talking to you!"

What she calls dessert: "Slerrt."

What she calls oatmeal: "Hot potato food."

On why she rejected a bathing suit I'd bought her that had a flower on the front: "I like mean guys. Mean guys don't like flowers."

On her brother: "Him a smart boy."

On me: "Mommy, you're the best mommy on earth. Do we live on earth?"

On her dad: "Daddy, you're the best daddy ever I see."

Remedial cornrows

2008-10-06T20:00:00.000-07:00

Cornrows are not my favorite hairstyle, but I still feel I should master them. I feel like they should be a staple in my hairstyle arsenal because they are pretty and, when done well, long lasting.

But they are not because I haven't been able to do them. For a long time, I basically gave up. But it still gnawed at me...I still wanted to learn.

So I figured I needed to start small, just do a few rows in front or something. So that is what I did yesterday, just six rows in the front. My parts are not that straight, my rows not that tight. But they are cornrows, and as I was braiding, I sort of felt like I was getting it. Sort of. Kind of pathetic at this point that I can do no better.

Still the end result was...well kind of pretty but I left a lot of hair free. And that's just not going to last the week...so now what to do?? Yeah, not sure, but no time to deal until at least Wednesday.

Kisae likes her free hair and her little rows. "I look like a lion," she said. Is that good?

Definitely remedial rows.

Wiped out

2008-10-06T19:39:00.000-07:00

These are the things I forgot today -- to get out of bed when the alarm went off, to brush Chakisae's teeth, that it was our anniversary.

Jim called (from the road, he's out of town, again) to say Happy Anniversary. He'd forgotten, too, but his sister texted him to wish him a happy day. We need someone else to remind us of our anniversary?

It's funny but I've been thinking this week that fall always reminds me of Jim. I thought this was because the temps had finally dropped (only high of 80), and we'd turned off the A.C., and it felt (sort of) like fall and it reminded me of our early days in Virginia. It never occurred to me that it might mean it was our ANNIVERSARY.

I take this as a sign that I am exhausted and wiped out.

This may be because I spent the entire weekend rushing and doing. Take Saturday.
Get up, start cleaning, get kids breakfast.
Run to Publix to get snacks and drinks for Ben's baseball team.
Get haircut, taking Chakise to salon because Jim needs to take Ben to the batting cage and then the baseball field. (Chakisae, by the way, was so amazing in said salon).
Go to Publix again because (after I got back from first run) Jim remembers that we are suppose to pay the umpire and neither of us have cash. So get cash at Publix, plus a cookie for Chakisae. (It will turn out that we did not need to pay the umpire at this game. This is the second time we have remembered -- though just barely -- to get money for umpire, only to be told, no this was not the right day. I promise that whenever is the right day we will not remember -- and, of course, not have cash).
Go to Ben's ball game.
Go home, make kids lunch.
Take Ben to a friend's house (Jim putting Kisae down for a nap).
Go to the office, do some 40 minutes of work.
Go to the library, get books for kids.
Pick up Ben at this friend's house.
Stop at Blockbuster.
Go home.
Go pick up take-out Asian food because despite two trips to Publix no food in house.
Come home and feed kids (Jim mows the lawn, then runs to IKEA to pick up second storage thing for Ben's room).
Get kids to shower, bathe put on P.J.s.
Read to Chakisae, get both kids to bed.
Jim comes home. Call D. and say, yes I can walk.
Say to Jim, "I'm too tired to walk." He says, "Go. It's a beautiful night."
Walk with D.
Come home and fold two baskets of rumpled laundry.
Collapse in bed.
Sunday - much the same.
Is it any wonder that Monday I was a wreck?

Added to my foggy brain feeling this morning was the fact that I woke up with either a cold or allergies or something. In any case, I kept sneezing and sneezing. I have the ability to out sneeze most anyone. So I finally took some Benadryl, which made the fuzzy/sleepy feeling more acute.

Which is probably why I forgot about teeth and that 12 years ago, on a sunny, beautiful fall afternoon, we got married.

I think I need a day of rest.

It's official

2008-10-01T20:08:00.000-07:00

Chakisae loves to draw and lately loves to write letters (as in the ABC's, not actual dear-so-and-so letters). Yesterday, she and Ben were both sitting at the counter coloring, Kisae doing some letters, Ben drawing his classic Godzilla.

Ben looked over at how his sister had written some random letters and then her name (I'd written CHAKISAE for her on another piece of paper, so she could copy it).

"Well it's official," he said. "Her handwriting is better than mine."

Sadly (for him), this is probably true. Have I mentioned that he has the worst handwriting ever?

Sadly (for us), the worst-handwriting ever is the source of not infrequent, schoolwork-related battles. When will he come to understand that he won't get credit for things no one can read, that he can't make P's look like e's or 9's look like 4's? Sigh.

In the meantime, Kisae does her letters with great care and style. "I'm an artist. You so proud of me?"

Oh, yeah.

The best thing

2008-09-29T21:03:00.000-07:00

Doesn't get much better than this:

Just before bedtime, Kisae wanted me to pick her up. When I did, she wrapped her arms around my neck and said, "I love you, Mommy. You the best Mommy ever I see."

Silly Kid

2008-09-28T19:56:00.000-07:00

At Ben's baseball practice Thursday, Kisae had lots of fun kicking a soccer ball around with another younger kid (whose older brother is on Ben's team).

So as we headed to Ben's game Saturday, she wanted to bring along her soccer ball, so she could be sure to play again.

And since Ben and Jim were already at the field, she thought it would be oh-so-funny if the ball rode in Ben's seat. And, of course, I had to buckle it in.

Random fashion note: That t-shirt (a present from grandma) is Kisae's favorite these days. I think this is because it has orange (her favorite color) on it, it looks like a boy's shirt (it is a boy's shirt, I think) and it has a crab on it (which she seems to think makes it cool).

Much silliness all around.

A boy's baseball dream

2008-09-28T19:52:00.000-07:00

Ben's baseball team handed out uniforms at Thursday's practice, in anticipation of Saturday's game. On the drive home from practice Ben said, "I'm going to try on the whole outfit from head to toe tonight." And he did.

Even sweaty and grimy, there are few things sweeter than a 9-year-old boy walking around in his baseball uniform.

Except maybe discovering later (when the boy is clean and in bed reading) that he has laid out his uniform on his bedroom floor, so that everything is ready for the big game....a full day and a half away.

Memory!

2008-09-25T20:22:00.000-07:00

Kisae's new favorite game is memory, you know that card game where you try to find matches by remembering where the other half of the pair is.

She's quite good at this. She beat Jim handily the other night. At first, he wasn't really trying but then he noticed that she was turning over one card and then getting up and walking with great confidence to the far end of the game (her Care Bear memory game has many, many pairs) and turning over another card. And making a match. So he started trying -- but she still beat him.

She is the one who set up the cards, so I thought maybe she remembered some of the pairs from her set-up efforts. But even that seems impressive for a kid not-yet 4. Then again, maybe we're impressed because we're old and tired and some of us can barely remember where we put the keys the night before when we came home.

Also, what is with the Care Bears? I don't get them. They all are sickly sweet. And Grumpy Bear doesn't look the least bit grumpy. He should be called Not-Grumpy Bear.

Oh, and those are Kisae's "fancy pajamas."

This is fun

2008-09-24T19:22:00.000-07:00

Like many second kids (at least ones quite a bit younger than their siblings), Kisae often spends her weekends doing things that are really mostly about her brother.

Consider Saturday: Jim had to work. Ben had baseball practice, so we went to that. I'd promised Ben I'd take him to Barnes & Noble on Saturday to get Brisingr, the next book in the Inheritance Cycle (yeah, I really don't know what it is, either, but the book came out to much hoopla on Saturday), so we went there after lunch. After nap time, Ben's friend came over.

Now, yes, Chakisae got to play on the playground while Ben practiced, got a book, too, and had fun hanging with both boys. But I still felt bad the day was so Ben focused.

So Sunday afternoon I carved out a little time for just the two of us, and asked her what she wanted to do.

We went to Lake Eola, at her request. It was hot (still) but we had fun. And when we started to wilt on the playground, we took a little walk, discovering a small outdoor market with a live singer -- and a gelatto stand. She snuggled on my lap while we listened to the music, dribbled chocolate ice everywhere, and as we headed to the car said, "This is fun!"

True, true.

Oh, and when we got home she drew me a picture with hearts on it.

Definitely a fun afternoon.

The points of reading, or why I'm probably really unpopular with my kid's teacher

2008-09-24T18:40:00.001-07:00

Ben remains a reading champ, plowing through books at a sometimes astonishing rate. He reads before breakfast and at breakfast and, if there's time, before we take him to school. He reads at school whenever he finishes his work -- and sometimes, I fear, rushes to finish his work so he can get back to his book. He'll read at dinner if I let him and after dinner, as soon as he is free from homework. In short, he reads a lot, and that's all mostly good. I love to read, and it gives me great pleasure to see my kid lost in a book.

His school uses the Accelerated Reader program, which assigns books points based on difficulty and length and has kids earn the points by taking computer-based tests. Kids have to set "AR goals" and are suppose to earn a certain number of points per marking period. This year, the school is even issuing certificates to celebrate kids who have 10 points or 50 points or 100, etc.

The whole AR thing does not thrill me. First, it has turned reading into a competition, and frankly Ben can turn pretty much anything into a competition anyway, but I'm not sure this is a trait I really want to encourage. Second, it means non-AR books are not read. Now most books that I might suggest for my fourth grader do seem to be part of the program but not all -- or they are not at the right "level."

Which brings me to today's problem or why I am no probably on his teacher's list of Most Annoying Parents. The teacher told Ben he had read several books below his level. Ben told me this but said he didn't know his level -- or, therefore, which books were too low. I emailed her. She got back to me, explaining she had told all kids their level -- and had them write it down -- at the beginning of the year. Not surprisingly, Ben just tuned that out. She also said that she'd deleted three of the books Ben had read from his record -- making him lose points -- because they were too easy. One of the books was The Cricket In Times Square. According to her note, it was a 4.3. Ben needs to read books at least at a 4.6 level.

Really? A .3 difference and we're saying this book is no good? I recommended the book because I remembered reading it as a kid and loving it. It is a classic, listed as appropriate for kids ages 9 to 12. And now Ben, because he's too good a reader, can't read it? Isn't this a bit nuts? Okay, it was kinda easy for him, but he really enjoyed it. Doesn't that count? I mean it wasn't like it was a Magic Tree House book (man, I hated those).

So then I was looking through the list of AR books and saw that, wait a minute, Cricket was actually a 4.9. Then I wasn't sure what to do, but I finally emailed the teacher back saying, oh, I could be wrong, but I think this book was okay, wasn't it? I'm sure she thinks I'm totally over the top, but it just galled me that according to this crazy reading program he wasn't "allowed" to read this classic, well-loved book.

I haven't heard back from her yet, but whatever her response, I'm dropping the issue. Ben, frankly, is way past his goal anyway and leading his class in points, and if he loses the Cricket ones, well, oh well. And, I realize, this program isn't her doing.

Besides, Ben has, hands down, the worst handwriting in the entire fourth grade (okay, maybe, maybe some of the vision-impaired kids have worse, but I wouldn't concede that without seeing writing samples), and that's what I probably need to focus on right now.

Slow and careful, kiddo, and stop making P's that look like e's. Please.

The short-lived interest in mermaids, dresses, skirts, princesses and other girlie stuff

2008-09-19T18:37:00.001-07:00

Well Kisae isn't going to be a Mermaid for Halloween. The interest in the pink mermaid costume proved to be fleeting.

She is now going to be Spiderman or Batman -- "I save the day!" -- or a dinosaur, all of which are in the costume box (Ben hand-me-downs). They are frugal options, at least.

She did briefly say the other night, while looking at a brochure for a local children's theatre production, that she wanted to be a princess. But that lasted just a few minutes.

It is much the same with dresses and skirts. She put on a skirt a few times this week but took it off almost as soon as she got it on.

She wore a dress out to dinner last weekend (it was Orange, her favorite color) at the Ethiopian restaurant, but that was only because when she changed her mind, we said, Oh it's time to go. And we left the house.

She didn't seem to mind the dress, really. And it's not like we really cared if she wore it, but I bought it (because she said she liked the orange), so I wanted to get at least a little use out of it.

And she did look cute, though it's hard to tell in the photos because I only got an assortment of odd faces and poses.

Friday Treasure

2008-09-19T18:28:00.000-07:00

Friday is treasure day at Ben's after-school program, meaning kids who've been good get to pick something (think Happy Meal-like toy) from the treasure box. Fairly silly and Ben doesn't much care anymore (it's really for the younger kids).

But Kisae, who is not enrolled in this program, has both figured out that a) Friday is treasure day and b)that the staff will let her pick something from the box just because, well, she's cute.

So now she asks me several times during the week on our drive from her school to Ben's, "It Friday?" and when I finally say, yes, it's Friday she says, "Treasure!"

It was kind of embarrassing the other week when the usual staff person wasn't there, and I had to explain to someone else, yeah, I know she's only 3 and doesn't go here, but she gets Treasure.

I growing so tall!

2008-09-17T17:09:00.001-07:00

These photos are from a month ago (and not the best). But lately Chakisae has been saying, "I growing so tall!" and insisting she's up to Ben's shoulders. She's not, not really even close. But she does suddenly seem taller, a bit stretched out, a bit less like a baby.

My mom gave her these stacking blocks right when she came home. She liked playing with them but couldn't make a tower by herself, of course. It is pretty amazing that now she can stack them all up -- and add a few more to the top for good measure.

She is definitely growing.

Sweet

2008-09-17T17:09:00.000-07:00

As I was driving both kids to school the other day:

Kisae (to Ben): Why you grabbing my arm?
Ben: I'm not grabbing it. I'm just holding it because I love you.
(I couldn't see from the front but I think Kisae made some kind of face).
Ben: I still love you.
Kisae: I a skunk!
Ben: I still love you.
Kisae: We all a skunk family!
Ben: I still love you!

Flack for a missed nap

2008-09-08T20:33:00.000-07:00

Chakisae is at that age where she'd really, truly prefer not to nap. But she still really, truly needs a nap. And she still sleeps more than an hour for the naps she insists she doesn't need.

Most of the time, we get just a few complaints. You know the, "I not sleepy! I not want to nap! I not tired! Look at my eyes!" Then, grumbling, she agrees to read and after a book or two, usually says "good night" and goes to sleep without too much complaint.

Sometimes, there is more complaining and even yelling but fortunately not too often.

Sunday, she didn't get a nap. This was my fault. By the time, my friend and I made plans to take the kids to a little splash park in the afternoon, it was nap time, but I went anyway. And by the time we got home, it was 4:30 p.m. and what was the point?

I figured we'd just power through and get her to sleep a little early. I didn't say anything about the nap but figured she'd be happy.

Well while I was making dinner, Kisae came into the kitchen. "I not nap!" she said, this fact clearly having just dawned on her.

Yeah, I know, I said. Kisae shook her head at me and said: "Silly, Mommy."

Boy clothes, bad guys, Batman and....a mermaid?

2008-09-04T21:15:00.000-07:00

Chakisae is not very girlie, in the pink, frilly, dress-wearing kind of way. She likes boy clothes and says, with great pleasure, "I look like a boy!" The blue snake t-shirt and the baggy, faded jean shorts -- both hand-me-downs from Ben -- are among her favorites. And don't you love that pose?

I am not very girlie either (never wear skirts or dresses), but there is a tiny part of me that is bothered by this fashion trend (not sure why, but maybe because I am sensitive to the fact that she/we already stand out and worry the boy-clothes thing makes it worse? I don't know). Still I try to just go with it because what's the point of arguing about clothes? Plus, sometimes things she thinks are "boy clothes" aren't really. Like the polo shirts she loves. They are all girl shirts, with little hearts or flowers on the chest, but she calls them "boy shirts," I guess because Ben and Jim wear polos so often. The newest one she picked out is white with lightening bolts -- red, sparkely bolts, but still a "boy" shirt in her mind.

(as a side note, is it depressing that 3-year-olds already know these gender specifications? That she knows a shirt with gathered sleeves or smocking is a "girl shirt?")

Chakisae is also into "bad guys," though we think this mostly means superheroes. Because if we say which bad guys, she'll say Batman or Spiderman. We've explained they aren't bad, but the message doesn't seem to stick. On vacation, when a sales person at Cracker Barrel asked her if she liked Elmo and Big Bird and the like, she said, "No. I like bad guys." The woman look appalled. Kisae really does like Sesame Street but she is very into bad guys. Whoever they are.

Tell her she looks beautiful and she will say, "I not bootiful! I bad! I like bad guys!"

For weeks, she also was into Batman (Ben has several old Batman costumes, which have no made their way to her dress up box). She said she planned to be Batman for Halloween. Fine, I said. She makes a very cute Batman.

The other day we got a catalog in the mail advertising Halloween costumes. Both kids spent quite a lot of time looking through it. And then Kisae told me she wanted to be ...a Mermaid. A pink one, no less.

Go figure.

My pair, part II

2008-09-02T19:16:00.000-07:00

There is a downside to the mutual-adoration thing the kids have going on.

Kisae has taken to bursting into tears if Ben declines her request to play. She's not faking it, but she does seem to resort to crying very quickly when Ben denies her. And he then caves -- reinforcing for her, I fear, that the tears get you what you want.

Ben gets all huffy, if Kisae doesn't want to be all warm and fuzzy with him first thing in the morning. "She doesn't like me!" he'll complain. Good grief.

Kisae also sometimes seems to decide what she wants based on what Ben wants. If I ask her what she wants for breakfast, she might say, "What Ben having?" Though this morning, she asked, but then stuck with her own (different) choice.

Ben also seems to relish in his top-dog status a bit too much sometimes. Sunday late afternoon Kisae asked if we could go to the park. I told Ben we should all go because he'd had a friend over for several hours earlier in the day, so now it was time to do something for her. He didn't want to go and figured he could convince her to stay home. "I'm her best friend, mom, she'll be happy playing at home with me." Hmm.

Still, there's a lot of genuine enjoyment going on, despite the bouts of manipulation.

My pair

2008-08-29T19:51:00.000-07:00

It's not the best photo, just a random one Jim snapped of the kids. But he took it, and I love it, because they are sitting on the couch together, holding hands. Until, they spotted Jim with the camera, they were happily sitting like that and looking at Ben's Pokemon cards.

Okay, I don't fully understand what or who a Pokemon is, and I'm not sure my 9-year-old really needs to be quizzing my 3-year-old on the various monsters (are they monsters?) powers.

Still watching my pair together gives me a jolt of joy like almost nothing else. They do not share a blond line, a skin color, a hair type, a gender or an even reasonably close birth date. But their brother-sister bond is as tight as they come.

Kisae wants to do everything with "My brudder Ben." And Ben frequently says she is his favorite person in the world.

Not that they don't have their spats, their "you can't come in my room for a month!" and "no look at me!" moments. They do. But they are short-lived.

Today, as were were picking Ben up from school, we saw one of his teachers. She stopped to chat, mentioned how cute Kisae was and then said, "Oh, I wish I had a Kisae."

Ben put his arm around his sister and smiled. "Too bad. She's mine."

I like that girl!

2008-08-26T20:08:00.000-07:00

I showed Kisae a photo of Tirunesh Dibaba, the Ethiopian runner who won two gold medals in Beijing. I told her Dibaba was really fast, "super fast," in Kisae speak.

Kisae seemed quite interested in the whole thing. "I like that girl!" she said. "Her pretty."

Oh, it made me happy to hear that. Not because pretty matters, in the shallow sense of the word, but because it does matter that so often black girls (at least by those depressing studies) don't really see themselves as pretty. And it terrifies me (in a way I can hardly articulate) that with white parents, Kisae will be particularly prone to thinking girls who look like her aren't pretty. Never mind that she is, hands down, the prettiest among us.

So whenever she points out that a black woman is pretty, my heart does a little leap.

Progress

2008-08-26T20:07:00.000-07:00

I woke this morning to find Ben at the kitchen table doing the spelling homework he'd deemed too much last night. That was good. Of course, he also said maybe he would do just 3/4 of it - the teacher wouldn't be too mad, right?

Sigh. Just finish it, I said, then it will be done. So he did, without too much complaining.

I would like there to be less stress about homework this year. I really would.

Tricycle as an amphibious vehicle

2008-08-25T19:58:00.000-07:00

The early part of Sunday was, gasp, actually sunny. And so I insisted the kids and I get outside. It seemed nobody had any chance to run around for a week. So Ben took off to explore a bit, and Kisae and I took her trike out.

There were a few issues.
First, it was like I had forgotten, oh, it's a sunny day in August, and it's gonna be hot. It was 90. Ugh. I told her not to wear jeans but she wanted to wear the new pair she'd just gotten. Oh well.
Second, the sidewalks were covered with water, so so were we.
Third, Kisae had a major meltdown when she realized Ben was going to go ahead and bike by some friends' houses. "I bike with my brudder!"

Eventually, she calmed down and had fun, peddling through the giant puddles.

Homework hassles...and school only started last week. Ugh

2008-08-25T19:31:00.000-07:00

School started a week ago and was closed for two days because of Tropical Storm Fay. So it's really hardly begun. Yet already we have homework issues.

It seemed to me what was sent home needed to be done tonight (that's what the teacher's newsletter said). Ben insisted it wasn't due until Thursday. A call to a friend didn't offer much clarification, but the friend was at least doing most of the work.

Ben was trying to figure out how to do the least amount possible. I was trying not to get annoyed, not to start our pattern of having these battles over homework. Truth is, it did seem like a lot of paper work -- but most of it also seemed ridiculously easy. Like if he stopped complaining, he could have finished it easily.

In the end, with much harumpfing (and some storming off) he finally did most. Then he said he was going to read and finish the last sheet in the morning. I just decided he needs to start taking responsibility for this, so I wasn't going to argue about that. Though maybe I need to get a clarification from his teacher on actual due date.

In any case, it was more stress than anybody wanted or needed. At least the rain stopped enough that I could go walking with D. tonight. That was very needed.

Now I find myself looking at old photos of Ben, missing the little boy he was. Not that I don't appreciate, and often delight in, the 9-year-old he is. But I just could really deal without all the attitude that comes along with the new passions and interests and skills.

Rain, rain go away. Really. We mean it!

2008-08-21T19:08:00.000-07:00

Okay, we are not flooded like our neighbors to the east. But Tropical Storm Fay is dumping tons and tons of rain on us. As I was leaving work, I felt like I was in some comedy scene from a movie -- it was raining so hard my umbrella was flipped inside out and pulled behind me. So of course, I got soaked. Plus, the water in the lot was up to my ankles in places.

The grass in our yard is like a sponge, there is water standing on our front walkway and it just keeps coming down. It has been raining on and off since Monday and seemingly non-stop for the last 24 hours. In one town, officials said it got as much rain in one day as it usually gets in six months. This is nuts.

We just got an automated call tonight (at 9:30 p.m., mind you) from the school district that schools are now closed tomorrow because of flooding and power outages. They were closed Tuesday, too. Ugh. Nothing stresses out two-working-parent families than unexpected school closures (And thanks M. for that phone call offering to help. So appreciated).

Plus, everyone is getting stir crazy. The kids haven't been able to play outside. I haven't been able to walk with D.

Go away Fay. Far away.

Hurricane Days

2008-08-19T16:30:00.000-07:00

The kids and I have been inside almost all day because of Tropical Storm Fay. School is closed (though thankfully opening tomorrow), so I worked from home. Hurricane days are Florida's equivalent of snow days (which I used to, of course, just love as a kid). But now, as one of two working parents, I just dread the unexpected school cancellation. I was able to work from home -- but I really didn't have any other options. And it's just very stressful when you feel like you should be at work and just can't be. But we've had quite a pleasant day together, considering we got only one short walk outside.

Anyway, so far this storm has just brought some wind and some rain, none of it very significant. But the worst of the storm is still a bit south of us, so we'll see what tonight brings.

It certainly (and thank goodness) won't be like the storms that hit here in 2004. Central Florida was hit with three hurricanes in a span of seven weeks back then. We lost power for several days during each storm. August in Florida is NOT a good time to be without power. Ben, who had just started kindergarten, lost a week of school after the first storm and days after the next two. Jim was sent to the cover the storms, and I was home trying to work and scrambling for child care. Crazy. But we were lucky as the damage to our house was not terrible (roof leaks and a crushed carport -- but it was old and ugly anyway). Many others were not as fortunate. Our neighborhood was hit the worst by Hurricane Charley, which knocked down many, many live oak trees.

These photos were taken the morning after Charley (which came through about 8 p.m.). This is our street, and my mom (who happened to be in town in a stroke of extraordinarily bad vacation luck. Though it was wonderful for me, as she stayed a week to watch Ben, then 5, so I could work) and Ben checking out the damage. I still find it stunning four years later.

Beach week in photos

2008-08-18T18:40:00.001-07:00

Some more photos from our week at the beach. I ended up with more of Kisae, probably partly because she's at that cute stage (she even looks cute in that ridiculous hat) and partly because Ben spends so much time in the water (often "wave bashing," as he puts it) often nearly being demolished by waves, that he's harder to photograph.

I did manage to get one sweet one of him and his cousin C. walking together. They are 14 months apart (she's older), but this summer we realized Ben is now the taller one.

Kisae, with her love of the "deeper," may soon be harder to photograph at the beach, too, but this summer she was still a pretty good subject.

A new school year, with new teeth

2008-08-18T18:31:00.001-07:00

School started yesterday (and stopped today, thanks to a Hurricane day. Ugh). Ben was quite nervous in the morning, which seemed odd as he isn't changing schools and is now, as a fourth grader, among the older kids. He was even worried about his bag. He'd wanted a messenger bag, not a backpack. But yesterday morning was very worried the bag "looked dumb."

But he came home from school very happy and excited, about his teacher, his friends, school in general. So that was good.

Also, his teeth were fixed so when he smiles for real - not the sickly grin I got in these shots -- he looks back to normal. Of course, his teeth are forever compromised and the whole accident still gives me shivers...but hopefully these fixes will last him into adulthood.

Six fun days at the beach, three miserable hours at the ER

2008-08-13T19:25:00.000-07:00

We came back from our annual beach vacation in N.C. with the usual assortment of sandy towels and seashells. Ben also came back missing chunks of both his front teeth (and, yes, they were his permanent teeth).

He smashed his face on the bottom of the (too-shallow) pool and broke both teeth. Fortunately, he did not expose or damage the nerves (or his jaw or the rest of his face). So while we did have to spend three hours at the ER at the Outer Banks Hospital (Sunday evening in that beach town there were no other options) to get him checked out, we were able to wait for teeth repair until we got home. And while he was freaked out (and I was really freaked out, though trying really hard to hide it), he was not in pain.

Other than that our trip was just lovely. Beautiful weather and lots of fun catching up with relatives we hadn't seen in a year.

Chakisae, already our little swimming pro in the pool, also decided she loved the ocean. All week she kept asking someone to take her "in the deeper," meaning out into the waves.

After I recovered from the stress of Ben's accident (which happened on our first full day there), I think I did manage to relax, forget about work, unwind. That was good.

Off to the beach

2008-07-31T20:25:00.000-07:00

Our annual family Beach House vacation starts tomorrow. We'll actually tomorrow isn't the fun part, it's the driving to N.C. part. But by Saturday, we'll be on the Outer Banks with cousins and aunts and gramps. Sixteen of us in one big house. It's not the same house we've had for the past two years, but it's oceanfront and has a pool, so I can't imagine it won't be anything but lovely.

We really need a vacation. The kids are beyond excited. We're mostly packed and it's before midnight (good for us). Here's hoping we get a week of sunny weather....

Photo from Beach Week 2007

When I four?

2008-07-31T20:20:00.000-07:00

Kisae puts great faith in the magical things that will happen when she is four. She has been looking forward to four since shortly after she turned three (late November). And telling people "I turning 4" since, oh, February. When she knows she can't do something yet, she will ask, "When I four?"

So not too long ago we had this conversation:

"Mommy, when I four, I get...."

She pauses, turns side to side, and makes a swishing/spraying sound.

"....a wiener."

Um, no, not when you're four nor even 44. And I hate that word. And, yes, that's the danger of having a 9-year-old brother.

Triathlon Boy

2008-07-30T16:59:00.001-07:00

On Friday, we heard about a kid's triathalon. On Saturday, Ben decided he wanted to do it, never mind that he neither swims, runs nor bikes competitively, nor has any of the attire or equipment of someone who does. He's reasonably athletic and very active, but that's not exactly the same thing. Also, the darn thing started at 7 a.m. Sunday and required a 6:15 a.m. arrival. Ugh. Jim took him, though I did get up to see him off (then fell back to sleep until the late-sleeping Kisae woke me at 8:45 a.m.).
Anyway, Ben did well, considering (9th out of 14 9 year olds, in the middle of the pack for the 154 kids that competed). It was a 50-yard swim, a 2-mile bike and a 1/2-mile run. He tried, and he finished. Pretty cool.
The photos, I fear, are out of order, as it was swim, bike, run. In the pool, he's in the middle, in red rash guard.

white shirt + Ben = still not a good combination

2008-07-28T17:23:00.000-07:00

I noticed yesterday that even before dinner, Ben's shirt was stained and filthy. How, I asked, could a shirt get so dirty so quickly?

"Mom," Ben said, "it's white, and it's me."

Yeah, that's it.

My daring duo

2008-07-26T20:35:00.001-07:00

A few shots of both kids' daring in the water -- they are daring going in and under, I'd say. It's funny because Ben doesn't like roller coasters (and that's fine, I'm not a fan, either). But he flips himself off a diving board all the time, as though it is nothing. Don't get that.

Fun, with fun photos

2008-07-25T19:50:00.000-07:00

Well these photos are helping me get out of earlier funk.

Sunday afternoon Jim took Kisae (and the camera) to a new, little splash park. Ben was asleep, recovering from a sleepover party the night before where he did very little actual sleeping. So I stayed home with him (he slept from 2:30 p.m. until 6 p.m. when I woke him for dinner...not sure he's napped like that since he was a small baby).

Chakisae loved the park, as she loves all things water. Jim loved that she was sporting "free hair." I love these photos!

A long week

2008-07-25T19:40:00.000-07:00

It has been another long week (we've had lots of them lately) at work. Much stress, fear of layoffs, people we like and admire are leaving. At least it is Friday.

I was determined we'd have a relaxed, fun family movie night. I had snacks for the kids in the car, figuring somebody's after-camp grumpiness of late was due to hunger. Everyone ate snacks, even said thank you. We grabbed several movies without much disagreement and in fairly good time.

I came home and started a very quick dinner for them -- Annie's pasta, grapes, milk, bread. You know, stuff I could get on the table in like, oh, 10 minutes.

And still in those ten minutes, moods dissolved. Someone (I'll protect the guilty, I guess) was in the fridge getting a drink, and someone else on small wheeled thing (can you guess who?) ran into fridge, banging sibling's head on the door. Or so the complaint went. Then someone got mad, someone else didn't really apologized, but laughed. There was yelling and stalking off and then crying. My mood soured, too.

Finally, they ate and then calmed down (well it helped that someone was temporarily banished to their room). We all eventually enjoyed the movie. And while we watched I did more twists in Kisae's hair (I'd done big ones early in the week but needed to divide). My usual thing. Still need to broaden my skills, but I was at least happy with how that turned out.

Now they're asleep, and I have a headache.

At least tomorrow is Saturday.

Two years ago today

2008-07-22T19:36:00.000-07:00

Two years ago today I arrived back in Orlando with Chakisae. I was exhausted and dirty and lugging around a tired and scared (but still remarkably good-natured) toddler.
We are so lucky she is ours now.

What an amazing little girl - so full of fun, of laughs, of song, of silliness.
When I first met her (see photos in the frilly pink dress) she was so quiet, so scared, and yet still so agreeable. She just kept sitting with me, and it only took a few hours before I got a glimpse of that amazing, mega-watt smile.
I loved my week in Ethiopia -- loved meeting the other families, seeing the countryside, etc -- but it was so nice to come home, to have Chakisae finally meet Jim and Ben. To start our new life as a family of four. They met us at the airport. Kisae looked confused, but she let Jim hold her and Ben, too (and thank goodness for that -- he'd been waiting for a sibling for so long, an airport rejection would not have gone well).
In some ways, the two years have just zipped by. In others, it's hard to even imagine a time when she wasn't with us. Our life is better with her, our "whole fambely," as she says, some how more complete now that she is here.
One of her preschool teachers wrote on her weekly report that Chakisae is a "joyful child." So true.

The crib is gone

2008-07-18T21:02:00.000-07:00

I know I can't really complain when my kid goes to bed easily and sleeps nearly 11 hours straight through the night.
And I know I can't complain when the switch from crib to bed happened in one easy night. "I sleep in my big bed," Chakisae said. And she did -- and has ever since. And now the crib is taken down (and sitting in the living room, waiting for word on its fate).
Truthfully, I was ready for the switch because we've had a crib and a double bed in her room since she came home. So beds were taking up a lot of floor space in her not too big room. But previously, she'd never wanted to switch. She liked her crib; she slept well in her crib, so we figured there was no point pushing crib removal. But then one day, she suggested it, and that was that.
The good news is that with the crib gone, we could move her "art table" out of the Florida room and into her room. We got more room out there, and she got more floor space in her room. All good.
But I can't help being a little wistful. The crib is gone. Packing it up was a bit like putting a final lid on the container of her babyhood. But as she often says, "I not a baby!" And she's not. So the crib is gone -- or at least going.
I'll be okay.
Before Jim took it apart, our silly girl posed for a few photos in her old bed. I think this is my favorite.

"You shake my hand?"

2008-07-14T20:10:00.001-07:00

As we headed to the zoo on Sunday, I reminded everyone that two years ago that day I was leaving Orlando on my way to Ethiopia to meet Chakisae.

Chakisae wanted to know more about this meeting.

"You shake my hand?" she asked.

Jim, Ben and I burst out laughing at that, cracking up at the image of me shaking hands with a 1.5 year old (and my new daughter). Kisae then got into the joke and started saying, "You say, 'Nice to meet you baby.' I say, 'Nice to meet you Mommy."

Of course, the actual first meeting wasn't quite like that (more on the real thing to come, I'm sure), but I'm still chuckling about the imagined courtesies. And, yeah baby, it was nice to meet you.

Little Miss Sass

2008-07-07T20:57:00.000-07:00

These photos pretty much sum up Chakisae's new, sassy attitude. You're in trouble when she's a teenager, a friend said recently. Oh good.

Not that she's not a sweetie anymore. But there's just a lot of that hand-on-the-hip stance -- and more than we'd like of the sassy comments. Things like: "I told ya!"

Oh, and yes, the hat is quite the fashion statement isn't, it?. It's a Ben hand-me down, and it matches Jim's. Kisae picked it out as we were heading out the door for the beach. The good thing is she actually wore it (and happily) the entire time we were at the beach, keeping sun at bay and (I realized later) a lot of sand from her hair.

If you don't like my kid's name, shouldn't you still mind your manners?

2008-06-30T20:02:00.000-07:00

This happened at a kid's party not too long ago. Most of the party was outside, with lots of pool play, but when it started to rain, the kids moved inside. At one point, I went in to check on Chakisae. I found her with lots of other kids and two moms. I did not know these two women.

The moms were trying to figure Chakisae's name. Which granted is unusual, and she often complicates things by telling anyone who asks her full name -- all four names, that is.

Anyway, just as I walked in, they were asking her name again.

Mom #1 said: You'll probably be 12 before I could pronounce that.

I said: It's cha-key-say. We say key-say a lot.

Mom#2 said: I was going to say Chaquita or ...(laughed).

Just at that moment, there was a call for cake or presents so everyone got up and the conversation ended as the kids headed outside. But I spent the rest of the party with the incident sort of nagging at me.

I think those women were rude, most especially to Kisae.

But I think the thing that bothered me (though perhaps this is silly) is that they both have kids who are adopted. I thought they might be more sensitive or get it (for what it's worth, their daughters are from China and all have western names). But no.

I'm sorry. If you don't like my kid's name, shouldn't you just do what mom used to say, you know, not say anything, if you can't think of anything nice to say?

I do get a fair number of questions about her name, and that's fine. I usually explain that it is her Ethiopian name (not something I made up, though, hey people can make up names, if they want!) and was chosen by her great-grandmother.

With these women, I just wanted to shout: "Hey, her name means 'light' and it was chosen by her blind great-grandmother. I met her. She told me she thought this baby would 'be her light and shine' and that she knew that 'wherever she went God's light would shine on her.' You try changing the name after that. Just try it."

But really, why should I have to do all that. It's a beautiful name. It's her name. I love it. Maybe I'm just a too sensitive?

A shout in the morning

2008-06-22T19:49:00.000-07:00

I woke up this morning because Kisae was shouting from her bed, "I hungry!"

Ben was yelling back from the Florida room, "You have to get up first, Kisae."

He did have a point. I mean there isn't really room service in our house.

I got up and went to her room. She seemed perfectly content (though just hungry, I guess).

My bad mom confession: I was so tired that I took her potty, put bowls and boxes of cereal on the counter and told them they could watch TV.

Then I went back to sleep.

My funny kids

2008-06-19T20:21:00.000-07:00

Kisae loves to sing. She sings the usual preschool fare -- you know twinkle, twinkle and ABC's -- but also her own songs. Those are the best. She holds her hand to her mouth (pretends its a microphone), tells us no talking and starts in with her performance. She sings about funny things, sweet things ("I love my brother") and random things ("I take off my shoe. Ant bite me.") Last week, we were outside, enjoying the evening when she started a new song...."Our house so dirty, our house so dirty...."

So there it is -- my house is such a mess that even the 3-year-old knows it and feels compelled to express it in song.

And then there's Ben. He told us the other night he wanted to learn to knit. I had to bite my lip not to laugh. Not that there's anything wrong with knitting. It's just he is not a crafty kid. He is a sporty kid (you know, the one who insists he should start ice hockey soon even though he doesn't know how to skate). He loves Godzilla. He keeps bugging us for a pocket knife. When he said he wanted to make the "exploding film canisters" he read about in a book, I wasn't fazed.

But knit? My kid? Hmm. But, okay, I said I'd look into it.
He said he wants to make Kisae a scarf. Well that's sweet, I thought. But then this popped in my head: Does he think those needles are weapons?

"Super baby to the rescue!"

2008-06-10T19:37:00.001-07:00

So Chakisae is now the queen of the diving board at our local pool. Yeah, I know I'm biased (and I know I'm bragging), but she is truly amazing.

She climbs up there, puts her hand on her hip, looks around for audience reaction (the lifeguards and the other pool patrons often stop to watch - I think she likes that), counts to 3 or maybe 5, shouts "Super baby to the rescue!" and then leaps into the water.

Jim is there, but she swims to the side mostly by herself. She swims by herself all the time, going underwater, trying to reach the bottom (in the shallow end), jumping in and off the diving board.

I have rarely seen a 3-year-old so comfortable in the water -- and so fearless. She is our Super baby.

Sleepovers, the funny stuff and the sad

2008-05-29T20:52:00.000-07:00

Ben had a sleepover at his friend J.'s last weekend. He was very excited and talked about it constantly in the days leading up to the big event. When it was finally time, he went to his room to pack. A short while later he offered us a briefing:

"Wanna know what I've packed so far? My rocket launcher and four peppermints."

(the rocket launcher in question was a Nerf toy he'd gotten at his birthday party - if that makes it any better).

When we stopped laughing, I suggested he throw in some clean clothes and a toothbrush, just to balance out the weapons and candy.

That was the fun part.

This was the sad part (for Chakisae): We took Ben to the friend's house, then did some errands, then came back to the friend's house to have pizza with that family. That was fun, too. But eventually it was time for us to go home, and when Kisae realized Ben was staying and she was not, oh the tears. She cried all the way home (fortunately that was only a mile).

She cried as we got her ready for bed, though Jim did manage to cheer her up with some silliness. She woke up happy, calling me from her crib. But after a few minutes, she realized her beloved brother was not home and, once again, her mood soured.

"Ben no go to friend's house ever and ever. That not him mommy and daddy. That not him sister!"

She'd previously had a fit when a friend called to invite Ben over to swim. All she heard me say was, "Oh sure, I can drop Ben off" and she started to cry and then scream, "Drop me off too! Drop me off too!"

So while all of this is sweet in a way (how much she loves him, and vice versa, though maybe part of it is she is just mad she cannot always do what he does), it does not bode well for this weekend. Ben is going to New York to visit grandma -- and Kisae, well, she's not. Neither are we, but this likely will make little difference to her.

When she spotted his suitcase earlier this evening, I had to tell her Ben was going on a little trip. "Him not leaving!" she said, then she stuck out her quivering lower lip and started to cry.

It could be a long weekend.

A conversation with Chakisae

2008-05-14T20:08:00.000-07:00

We were in the car on the way to Chakisae's preschool when I got this question: "Mom, you have a costume?"

Me: "No."

Chakisae: "You need a big, big princess dress." (I guess because I'm really big?)

Me: "What for?"

Chakisae: "Um, um, for, Pumpkin!"

Me: "For Halloween?"

Chakisae: "Yeah."

Me: "What do you want to be for Halloween this year?" (okay, it is just May, but I figured I would just go with this).

Chakisae: "Spiderman! I like him."

So for some reason, I must be dressed in a stereotypical princess dress (in size XL, apparently) but she is free to branch out -- at least as far as the things she knows are stashed in her brother's costume box.

She is a cute Spiderman, though.

Cool. Is that safe? Oh, no. No! No!

2008-05-12T19:29:00.001-07:00

I came outside to take photos of the kids on the trampoline. Ben showed me his flip (cool, I thought, quickly followed by, is that safe?). Kisae then showed me her "flip," which is just a somersault with flair. Then I heard Ben say "for our next act ..." And the next thing I know Kisae is in the middle of the trampoline in a duck-and-cover crouch preparing, apparently, for Ben to leap or jump or flip over her. I shouted, No! (because I was sure that was not safe) and Ben stopped and did a handstand type thing next to her. But not over her. Whew.

I didn't even realize I got a photo of the near act. But it turns out, I did. The funny thing is that Kisae was the mad one when I stopped things and remained in her position shouting, "I like it Mommy!" for several minutes.

All of which goes to prove that it is true that if Ben suggested they spend the day walking over hot coals, Kisae would smile, say "okay!" and happily follow her beloved big brother.

Mother's Day writings

2008-05-11T19:48:00.000-07:00

These are things the kids drew for my mom for Mother's Day. They both spent a lot of time at the kitchen table carefully working on their signs. Ben wanted to write in cursive. Kisae wanted to write her name. She did pretty well, I think, copying what I'd written for her.

She had the most trouble with K. "That's a hard letter," she said.

I love how they love their grandma so much, how they got such a kick out of making pictures for her.

Ben also made me a sign, which was taped up near the table when I got up this morning. I'll have to get a picture of that, too. He also got Kisae out of bed and let me sleep this morning. Now that's a nice Mother's Day present.

A phone call, an email and word of a daughter, waiting 7,689 miles away

2008-05-05T17:33:00.000-07:00

When the phone call I'd been waiting for finally came, I wasn't thinking about adoption or our new child but about pizza.

It was a Friday, two years ago today. I'd just left work and was doing my usually 1.5 mile dash to Ben's school. I was going to pick him up along with a friend, and the friend's family was going to join us for pizza. So how many pies to order, that was the question on my mind.

When my cell phone rang, I assumed it was Jim and didn't even glance at the number. It was our adoption agency in Minnesota. We had a daughter, waiting in Africa.

She was 17 months old. Her name meant "light." She needed a new family. I heard all that. I said very little. Though I ask questions for a living, I was nearly speechless. I had a daughter, in Africa. The agency official said she's email the file right away. I called Jim from the school, and he quickly called up the email.

There were two photos, a few pages of medical and background information.

"She looks sad," he said (he was right, she did).

And he laughed because she was wearing an outfit decorated with Mickey and Minnie (destined for Orlando, it seemed).

We shared the info with our son that evening. "She's adorable!" he said.

The photos were embedded in the file sideways, and we couldn't figure out how to flip them. All that weekend, the three us stared at the photos on the computer screen with our heads tipped to one side.

It is hard to imagine a child (your child) from a few photos. One photo was of Chakisae alone, standing by a bed in that Disney outfit. She was staring straight ahead, perhaps confused by the camera, perhaps just annoyed. Her eyes were big and dark and sad. The other was smaller and blurrier, a black and white shot of her and great-grandmother. Her great-grandmother had an arm around Chakisae. I'd learn later that this elderly, frail and blind woman living in a small village in Ethiopia had cared for, and loved, our baby -- her baby then -- for more than a year. I still do not know how she managed but am forever grateful that she did.

I stared at the photos often in the 9 weeks between when they arrived in our inbox and I arrived in Ethiopia to bring Chakisae home. It is a funny thing to be falling in love with pictures.

She would be 19 months old by the time I landed in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia's capital. She was tiny by American standards but with a big belly we attributed to early malnutrition and bald because orphanage workers had shaved her head. The doctor we shared her records with said her head was a good size. Feed, he said, she'll grow (she did, five inches in the first five months home).

The papers described her personality with a single word: Quiet.

This was true when we were in Ethiopia together and even the first few weeks at home. But soon enough, she was babbling in the car, shouting her brother's name or wailing "jump!" when she spotted him on the backyard trampoline, and she hadn't been invited.

"Why did we get a report saying she's a quiet kid?"Ben would ask, delighting in the inaccuracy. "Mom, are you sure you picked up the right kid because this one isn't quiet!"

But he always answers his own question. She's the right one. In fact, he calls her "the perfect little girl" for us. We never disagree.

I think of Chakisae today, my amazing, delightful daughter. But also of the poverty and tragedy that marked her first family and, really, her first country. Ethiopia is beautiful and fascinating, literally the cradle of mankind, home to early Christianity, the only African country never colonized, a place proud of its coffee, its customs and its history. It is also terribly poor, home to millions of orphans.

Today, I also think of other parents (or parents to be) waiting for a phone call, an email, word of a child.

Why Newsweek may soon be banned from my house

2008-04-28T20:16:00.000-07:00

The other morning I got up and sat down at the desk to type a quick email. Ben was already up and dressed, sitting on the couch reading Newsweek. For reasons that would soon become even more apparent, I had told him Newsweek was not really appropriate kid reading.
But it was early. I was sleepy and eager to get the email written and breakfast underway.
I typed. He read. And then I got hit with this:

"Mom, what's oral sex?

Now it seems that when faced with such questions (which never, ever come at good times or with proper lead in) you can either refuse to answer, lie or tell the truth.

I stalled for time. Where, I asked, did you hear such a thing (I was immediately trying to figure out what friend I could blame)?

It's in Newsweek, he said. It was. Not kid reading! I said (obviously, too late). Ben said he'd been reading about the presidential candidates (a recent obsession) but he'd also (obviously) read about a girl forced into the sex trade.

"I don't want to talk about it," I said. How's that for good parenting? It was, however, so very, very true.

But that sort of thing doesn't work with Ben the pit bull. Maybe there was a good out, a good way to avoid explaining this to my 9-year-old. But I couldn't think of it, not on my feet like that.

And I'm no good at lying. Plus, I had never taken that tack before when it came to sex questions. So the truth. Well, um. I was vague as I could be, but he still said, "That's disgusting." Maybe that's good.

Another issue of Newsweek was in the mail that evening. I put it right in our room. He can go back to reading Sports Illustrated Kids or Highlights or something meant for KIDS!

Sporting life in photos

2008-04-26T15:50:00.001-07:00

Soccer and baseball - or our busy Saturday mornings.

You must be 4 or 5, right?

2008-04-23T19:55:00.001-07:00

Sunday was my mom's birthday, so the kids and I called to wish her well. Ben chatted with her first, then Kisae insisted on taking a turn.

"Happy birthday, Grandma," she said in her cute, little voice.

This was followed by: "You four or five?" Apparently in her universe, these are the only viable options.

I heard my mom laugh and say "68!"

"I like a bird, up in the sky!" Kisae jumps off the diving board

2008-04-19T19:23:00.000-07:00

Kisae loved water almost from the moment she came home. So it wasn't really a surprise -- nor a credit to anything we did -- that she learned to swim like a champ last summer at age 2 and 1/2.

We recently did a four-session swim class just as a refresher. On the last day, she jumped off the diving board, three times in a row. Each time, she landed in the water, swam to her teacher and then said, "Again!"

Of course (argh!) I did not have my camera with me.

When we got home she told Jim, "I go diving board all by myself. I like a bird, up in the sky!"

(photos - top, spring 2008. middle, summer 2007, bottom, summer 2006).

Our Sporting Life

2008-04-19T19:21:00.000-07:00

Kisae had her soccer debut last weekend. I'll have to post photos later, but of course she was cute in her uniform and baggy soccer shorts. She was a little nervous -- she's among the youngest on her team and in her little division - but she played. She didn't cry, as some of her teammates did, just seemed a bit unnerved by the bigger, more aggressive kids.

Her big interest in playing soccer is that the rest of us would sit and watch her. I guess after 18 months of watching Ben's games (soccer, flag football and now baseball), she figured she was due. "Mommy watch me, Daddy watch me, Ben watch me. Whole fambely!"

Trouble is the whole "fambely" couldn't make her debut because Ben's baseball game was at the exact same time, on another field, in another part of the city. Ugh. So this past weekend, we thought we were good to go. Ben's game was moved to Friday night, so Saturday morning would be all Kisae. Except just as we were about to leave the house Saturday, we got a call. Game canceled, thanks to a broken water pipe under the field. Argh. We will try again in another week.

In the meantime, I ponder this: Why do some mothers put giant (and I do mean giant) floppy bows in their daughters' hair for soccer games? It always looks to me like they are desperately saying, "She's still feminine! She's still a girl!" Maybe that's not fair. Maybe they always put big floppy bows in their daughter's hair. But I don't get why it's a soccer accessory.

And this is why sometimes being a working mom is just no fun: I was stuck at work late on Friday and missed half of Ben's baseball game. And it was in that first half that my kid hit his first-ever home run! He told me about it later, how he had smacked the ball down the right field line, how it rolled to the fence and how he rounded all the bases.

Jim was there, Kisae was there. He was sorry I missed it but hardly devasted (in fact, and not surprisingly, he was a bit cocky). Still, I wish I'd seen that hit.

patience (needing some)

2008-04-17T19:09:00.000-07:00

Later, these things are sometimes funny. Like the morning of that lovely Spring Break day at the beach really wasn't so lovely. We barely got out of the house on time -- the early part of our outing was a school science club event that had a set start time -- and when I went into the kids' bathroom I found hair everywhere. Huh? Hair? Why is there hair all over?

Oh, Ben said, I cut my hair. I'm not even sure I could articulate a response. It seems some of his hair was sticking out, so, well, he cut it off (and now 2 weeks later it is sticking up even worse, but that's another issue, I guess). Isn't this something 3 year olds do? Couldn't he at least clean up after himself?

In the end there was no real harm done and some where along I-4, I calmed down. Patience. Need more.

So tonight, I needed another dose. Ben loves to read. This is a good thing. This is a thing that makes me really, really happy. He is truly a reader, a kid who plows through books, takes them in the car, reads them at breakfast and hates when I tell him it's bedtime and he needs to stop reading. This drives me crazy, of course, as he acts like wanting him to get a decent night sleep makes me the worst mom ever -- sometimes he even says as much.

It makes for a lousy way to end the night. But probably in the morning I'll have my sweet boy back, at least until I tell him to stop reading and get ready for school.

African Reading Challenge

2008-04-16T19:40:00.000-07:00

This idea (started here) was posted on the CHSFS adoption forum a few weeks ago, and I was immediately intrigued. The idea is to read six books in 2008 that either were written by African authors or are about Africa. You're suppose to pick books from a variety of African countries, though my selections are a little Ethiopia heavy. Anyway, here are my six, though a few may change:

1)Notes from the Hyena's Belly: An Ethiopian Boyhood by Nega Mezlekia (Ethiopia)
2)The Beautiful Things That Heaven Bears by Dinaw Mengestu (Ethiopia)
3)28: Stories of AIDS in Africa by Stephanie Nolen
4)Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe (Nigeria) In 10th grade social studies we were assigned to read 1/2 of this book, if I recall. Half a book??!! The same was true for The Good Earth, I think, though I just finished that anyway. So I think this classic deserves another chance.
5)A Long Way Gone: Memoirs of a Boy Soldier by Ishmael Beah (Sierra Leone)
6)Held at a Distance: A Rediscovery of Ethiopia by Rebecca Haile (Ethiopia).

(Kisae and I at the Muger River Gorge in Ethiopia, July, 2006)

Asking why I brown? But seeming happy to be so

2008-04-16T19:22:00.000-07:00

Kisae has asked me several times in the last few weeks, "Why I brown?" She hasn't asked but, of course, I wonder if she is thinking the corollary, Why are you guys so pale?

I've told her that people come in many colors (though she then asked if there are blue people. Well, no, not that many colors). And I've told her that she is brown because her birth parents are brown. It's hard to know at age 3 how much of this sinks in.

That Chakisae won't feel good about the way she looks is one of my fears about transracial parenting. We think she is the most beautiful little girl imaginable. Really, she just takes our breath away. But will she see things that way? Or only that she doesn't look like us?

So I know these are very small incidents but both made me happy. I was doing Chakisae's hair, so she was watching PBS Kids. There was a PSA by a staff member of our local PBS station. This woman happened to be black. Kisae pointed to her and said, "Her pretty girl."

Yes, I said, she is. Silly, perhaps, but I was so happy that she saw that black woman as pretty (and yeah, we'll work on that thing about calling grown woman girls later :) ).

Then Ben was playing with his Wii and created virtual versions of the family. Kisae wanted one of these Miis, so he did one for her. He picked the brown skin color (she didn't object), but asked her how she wanted her hair. She smiled, put her hands on her cute twists and said, "Like this!"
Now maybe she didn't quite get that she could have picked something that wasn't true to life, but still I was happy she hadn't been immediately drawn to something blond, straight or otherwise unlike her lovely, dark curls.

Ben turns 9

2008-04-11T20:10:00.000-07:00

Ben turned 9 this week. It didn't throw me too much (okay, just a little), maybe because I'm just saving to be really thrown when he turns 10. (10! My baby is going to be 10! Wait, next year, not now).

Or maybe because those moments when you are really thrown by how in the blink of an eye your child has gone from baby to boy come more unexpectedly. Like that day last summer in the pool when I looked up to watch Ben jump off the diving board. Only he didn't just jump, he did a flip. And all summer he practiced those flips and got better and each time I had the sense that I was literally watching my kid fly away from me. Flips? How can he be big enough, coordinated enough to do flips?

Anyway, his birthday was on a school day, so we stayed home but he's going to have a party with friends next weekend. I let him pick the menu for dinner. His choices: Hungarian goulash with noodles, mango ("for my fruit," he said) and cream soda. So that's what we had (well Kisae and I skipped the cream soda). We jointly settled on chocolate fondue for dessert, which he had with pound cake, strawberries and pineapple. Very tasty.

He was so excited that it was his birthday that in the morning he put on a polo shirt with his shorts instead of the usual t-shirt. Then he asked me if I liked what he was wearing. Yup, I did.

And, despite our reservations, he got that long-wished for Wii (it had been his top Christmas request but we could not find one anywhere, perhaps because we were so conflicted about the darn thing that we started looking way too late).

As I was already looking through my little notebook, in honor of Ben's 9th, here are 9 Ben quotes that still make me smile.

On his sister: "She's so funny, and she keeps me company and nobody can deny her cuteness." Aug. 2007

On the tooth fairy story: "Tell me the absolute, honest truth." March, 2006.

On my request that he not talk so much in his kindergarten class: "But Mommy, I have so much to say." Spring, 2005

On my singing: "Everybody is good at something. Singing isn't one of your main talents." July, 2005.

On football: "How come they call it football when you hardly ever use your foot?" November, 2005

On a chandelier we saw at Costco: "I wish we were that fancy." July, 2004

On his parents: "Daddy, can I tell you something? Do you know how much I love you and Mommy? As much as the universe." July, 2004.

On why he seemed to be scowling during his soccer game: "I'm just making my tough face, Daddy." March, 2003

On wondering about himself: "Could you go flat if you play with your belly button too much?" February, 2003

Spring Break in photos

2008-04-11T20:02:00.000-07:00

So on Ben's Spring Break we spent a few days (crazy though it was) at the Nickelodeon Hotel.
The kids and I (Jim had to go back to work) also spent one lovely day at Cape Canaveral National Seashore, which I think is my favorite close-to-Orlando beach.

Why the bunchy pocket title?

2008-04-09T20:50:00.000-07:00

I was a bit stumped on a blog name. Didn't want our last names or anything too sappy. Jim suggested I find something funny one of the kids had said. This prompted me to pull out the little notebook I keep in the kitchen to make note of such things (occupational hazard, I guess).

So I read lots of funny Ben quotes (got a lot more from him, obviously) and came across, "Mommy, I told you a million times 'NO BUNCHY POCKETS!" This was when he was in the throes of his most-insane clothes period (yeah, I know lots of kids have these sensory issues and, really, I did try to be accommodating when possible but in the moment -- when you're toddler is yelling, "my pants not working!" -- it all seems pretty insane).

He only wanted "super slick socks" and "fake-button pants," as non-slick socks and real buttons (and God forbid zippers or snaps) drove him crazy. So did tags. So I cut them out, of t-shirts, shorts and even from a pair of underwear -- while he was wearing it. That I neither drew blood nor ruined the underwear is probably one of my finest parenting accomplishments. I did not know about "bunchy pockets," however, until that morning when he came out of his room in a near fury. And even if I knew about this issue, how the heck was was I suppose to know if the shorts had pockets that bunched? It's not like I could try on a pair of size 5T and assess. Sheesh.

Jim often says that parenting makes him feel like his life is being run by small, crazy tyrants. Yeah, it's not a democracy around here, and we try hard to be the parents. But still the craziness often triumphs. And somehow "No Bunchy Pockets" just sums that up.

Joining the blogging world

2008-04-09T20:43:00.001-07:00

I've been thinking about it for awhile (and even started, and then abandoned, a blog two years ago) and figured I'd finally give it a shot.

Maybe because I must blog for work, so I've kinda gotten into blogging but thought it might be fun to try it when I wasn't so constrained by, well, work.

Maybe because these two leave me so many stories, or exasperating moments, I want to record (like this on the way home the other day -- Ben: Mom, can I get a skunk? Kisae: Pee-U! No Skunk! Ben: Kisae, they take the smell out! Me: No. Ben: But why? Kisae: Pee-U! No Skunk!).