WHEN MOMMY GROWS UP...

Visitation Rites

2009-08-07T22:09:00.015-04:00

After a week of vacation in the Outer Banks, my husband, kids, and I drove down to Tampa, Florida. A few days later we drove over to Orlando, and then finally we headed down to Port Charlotte. We visited my siblings and parents in a whirlwind tour because we haven't been on a trip to see my family in Florida for two years due to economics (you know what I'm saying).

I have wondered on occasion why there hasn't been more of a desire from my other family members to visit us up here in Baltimore? Is it assuming too much that we, as a family of four on a limited budget, should visit all of my family in Florida every year?

The answer to this question is just not that simple. The selfish answer is YES!! We would love to have visitors up this way. It would save us money, but it would also create additional opportunities for all of us to meet and give all of the kids a chance to play in our stomping ground up here in Baltimore, Maryland.

In the end, though, everyone has to make their own choices for their own reasons. Driving home 19 hours alone with the kids gave me new perspective. We are only here a limited time and our kids will only be young once (yes, my thoughts run deep.) I depressed myself greatly by doing a little "visiting-the-family-math." If we travel to Florida for seven days every other year, and assume that my parents live to the age of 90, the math proves that we will see them roughly 15 times for a total of just over three months. How horrible is that? Three months over the course of 30 years! If I want my children to have a relationship with their grandparents, nieces, nephews, aunts, and uncles, then it's MY responsibility to make this happen. I'm not mad at anyone. I'm simply glad that I did the math now.

I miss seeing my family, and I hope that they will come up here to visit soon. Maryland has quite a bit to offer visitors and so does our family.

Book Reviews

Outtakes From a Marriage - Ann Leary (wife of Denis Leary). The story begins with a wife discovering (completely by accident) that her husband is cheating on her. It follows with an in-depth look at love, life, regret, hope, and despair. The story is believable and as heartbreaking as rewarding. A definitely good read.

The Devil in The Junior League - Linda Francis Lee. This is a very interesting story about the deep south, as in Texas. The main character finds her wealthy, fancy, pristine life upturned when her husband does something really naughty. As a popular, beautiful woman, her husband's situation cannot be discovered by the Junior League, a highly coveted organization that only a select few are invited to join. The titillating story has many interesting twists and turns, that you don't see coming. I loved this story and I highly recommend it.

Famous quotes: Ginger Snap was not listening to her dad. He stopped, put his hands on his hips and said, "Ginger Snap, I keep repeating myself over and over like a broken record." Ginger Snap pondered this for a split second, and then with a look of complete puzzlement she said, "But Daddy, what's a record?"

Happy Birthday Hangover

2009-06-25T00:36:00.005-04:00

May was a busy month. There was Mother's Day, Teacher Appreciation week, the end of school for Ginger Snap, Memorial Day, and for both of my children, it's their birthdays...within two weeks of each other. I was a frenzy of activity.

The thing that's really crazy, though, is that birthdays aren't just birthDAYs anymore. They are more like birthMONTHs. Each child has an actual "family birthday celebration" on the true date of birth (as it should be). Then there was the school celebration and, finally, the birthday parties. Sometimes there is also an extended family birthday party involving a barbecue and gifts from grandparents and relatives. Don't get me wrong. I know the kids love it, but truly, how many gifts does one child need during the birthday "season"?

The school celebrations vary depending upon the school my kids attended. My son attended a private school two years ago that requested a nut/milk/soy/egg-free food snack (not the easiest thing to do) as well as a book that could be offered to the school as a gift from the birthday child's family...okay. My daughter attended a private school that requested any snack in the World (donuts were very popular). My son is now in public school and this time the school requests NO snack due to food allergies/diabetes and a gift from the birthday child's family...Lightning gave a football and two jump ropes- a bit of a reversal, but not a bad thing at all.

I personally LOVE organizing birthday parties. My mom was quite the party maven- I have wonderful memories of my childhood parties (usually involving the 35 kids from my homeroom class). I have always wanted to recreate the parties, so each year we have a theme for each party, games, prizes, and usually a good sized group of kids. Two years ago, Lightning had 32 kids at his party. Last year he had 26 kids at his party, and this year he had 18 kids (a very workable number).

For the first time ever, my daughter persuaded me into using another establishment beside our home for a birthday party. She chose to have a Build-A-Bear Workshop party with 10 girlfriends.

The parties were so much fun, and I am so glad they are over :-).

Famous Chang children quotes:

'Mom that food was SO fattenous!' (Lightning)

'No way Mommy! That's prepostible!' (preposterous+impossible) (Ginger Snap)

Book review: "A Bad Bride's Tale" by Polly Williams. What do you do when you marry someone you don't love? This story was an interesting, seemingly believable, perspective on a girl that married someone she knew she didn't love completely. The story begins a couple of weeks before the wedding. She's asking herself hard questions about what she really wants in a husband. The answers aren't promising, but she feels that she (and her parents) are too committed financially to back out.

A Fond Farewell

2009-05-14T22:00:00.012-04:00

Stormy Chang (1993-2009)

It is with a heavy heart that I bring the following news. My eldest cat, Stormy, aged 16.5 years old died on April 1, 2009, from a blood clot in her heart. She was a beautiful, talkative, animated adorable gray calico family member. I rescued her in 1993, when the next door neighbor in my apartment complex "threw her out". He was very glad that I found her and decided to keep her. I was very glad that I kept her as well. She was a six month old kitten at the time. Our whole family misses her terribly. If you want to get to know her a little better, I refer to her in the previous blog titled, "Pet Expectations".

Pet Expectations

2009-03-04T15:56:00.012-05:00

I awaken to the weight of a cat sitting on my stomach staring at me (this is pretty typical). I get up and nearly step on another cat waiting for me by the bedside. As I am walking out of the room, Marley, our Australian Shepherd, stretches and follows me. In the hallway my oldest cat starts screaming insults at me - "Feed me! It's been six hours since you last fed me! Are you crazy? I'm starving over here! Don't deprive me just because I'm older. I'm not invisible, you know!" The way the cats watch me reminds me of a scene in the movie "City of Angels", when the angels (Nicholas Cage, Andre Brauer, and others) listen and watch the sun rise over the ocean. In this scenario, the cats are the angels and I am the sun.

Yep, I'm dealing with pet expectations. My pets are family, treated like family, talked to like family, and have the expectations of humans. It's not normal, but what can I say? We have all lived together for a long time. Marley is 8 years old, Sarah and Merle are 11 years old, and Stormy is 16 years old. In odd ways our pets have taken on human traits... and then there are exceptions- like when I catch Sarah licking the painted walls or when I catch Stormy licking the finish off of photographs- actually have to hide photos from her because she will go looking for them. As far as human traits go we have our adorable female, beautiful, blue merle dog who burps like a man and...umm...farts (loud). After which, you simply wish to leave the room she is in. Of course, she follows you knowing that she is killing you slowly with her stink.

It took me a while to realize that not all dogs do this and my friends did not realize that my dog was carrying on in this fashion in front of them. So once, right after Marley pooted loudly right beside me and my friend (who has a dog), I asked her how she felt when her dog did this in front of other people. She looked at me with a clueless expression and said that she didn't understand. That's when I realized, with horror, that all of the times I have had playgroups and girlfriends at my house that people must have thought that I was BURPING and FARTING without restraint or apology in front of them...I have some diehard friends for sure.

My cats swirl around my feet for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Stormy also expects "dessert" before bed. They all sample the dry catfood, but Stormy and Merle prefer the wet catfood and Sarah doesn't like it. Sarah eats cat treats in lieu of wet catfood. Marley "waits" for her chance to sneak into the cats' wet food. The pets are fed before the children in the morning because they make so much NOISE it makes me CRAZY! After the cats eat, Sarah retires for an afternoon of sleeping on the couch, Stormy sleeps in the lower bunk of Ginger Snap's bed, and Merle (don't know how she does it) gets into the top bunk of Ginger Snap's bed. Of course she can only get into the bed, not out. She cries out for me to get her down at least once a day.

I walked into the kitchen last night and this is what I heard my husband saying:

"That's it! You have to the count of three to get out of the kitchen...one...two..."I turned the corner and caught him having a heart to heart with Marley, who was looking at him with big sorrowful eyes. My husband stood up quickly, smiled, and said, "She's eating things in the trash again."

I, too, have caught myself telling Stormy that she needs to stop begging for food, she needs to leave the other cats alone, she needs to pipe it down, that she's being annoying, that she needs to find something to do other than beg for food. Her favorite place to sleep is directly in front of the refrigerator doors. Sometimes, if I don't feed her fast enough she swats at my feet trying to get my attention. People are surprised by how much "personality" our cats have and how "talkative" they are. Well, we are a noisy, talkative family so I guess it goes with the territory.

So, our pets are adorable and annoying and noisy, but more than anything our pets are part of our family. I feel pretty darn lucky.

Book Review:

"Everyone Is Beautiful" by Katherine Center. A story about child rearing with a dry sense of humor. It highlights the trials and triumphs a relationship undergoes with children underfoot. It's laughter and tears, frustration and jubilation. The story is truly lovely.

Famous Quote: Ginger Snap lost her voice and told me: "Mom, I can't make loud noises. I lost my screambox."

Snippets of Time

2009-02-16T00:45:00.010-05:00

Do you remember a time when your days just consisted of getting ready for work, going to work, and coming home from work? Time passes by differently once you have kids. Time, for me, passes incrementally.

I have a 6.5 years old boy, Lightning, and a 4.5 year old girl, Ginger Snap. They are different ages and different genders. In the last four years one or both have been in attendance at different schools. I have a girlie girl who takes dance and I have a rough and tumble boy who plays soccer. They both take swimming lessons. My son is in first grade and attends school full time. My daughter is in Pre-K and attends school part-time. I work part-time during the week and on the weekend (during wedding season). After the kids go to bed, I either write, blog, or Facebook my nights away(in between bills, laundry, cleaning, and dishes).

My life is comprised of snippets of time.

My day typically runs from 7am-2am. When I wake up in the morning, I have one hour to: get the kids up, pick out their clothes, get them dressed, feed them, feed the pets (3 cats and 1 dog- they are more insistent than the kids), make lunch for one or both kids (depending on the day of the week), and dress myself...yeah, um, right (refer back to my entry "Skank for a Day" in regard to personal primping). That's the first hour of my day during the week and the hours continue like this from Monday to Friday.

On Tuesday, I do the above and then rush home with 20 minutes to spare to make myself presentable (always a difficult task) for work and get my daughter to her school. I work for two hours at a local museum before I run to my car and rush to the carpool line to pick up my daughter. We have one hour after I pick her up to 1) eat lunch; 2) help her change for dance class; 3) gather snacks (where are those chocolate pretzels(?); 4) and get to dance class across town. Dance class lasts one hour - ending at 2:45pm. Then we run to the minivan and drive back across town to arrive at Lightning's school as he is exiting the school with the rest of the students. I set aside 3:30-4:30pm for (more) snack time, going through school papers, and homework. Then I clean up and make dinner. My husband gets home. We eat dinner and have dessert. The kids take baths, they brush their teeth, we read a story, and they go to bed at 8pm. Then my night begins.

All of my time is compartmentalized into fractured hours. I don't know what I'd do if someone came to me and said, 'I give you 4 hours to yourself.' Sadly, I would probably break the hours up into portioned segments, like a mom feeding a baby "big boy" food.

How do you spend your days? Can you relate?

A (soon-to-be) famous quote from Lightning...While watching Entertainment Tonight, my son pointed to a clip about Michael Jackson. He looked at me and said, "Mom, that is one ugly lady."

book review: "Diary of an Exercise Addict" by Peach Friedman. The life struggles and frustrations of a girl who exercises many hours a day sometimes more than once a day) and then binges to the point of vomiting. There also is a phase of anorexia. I found the story sad, insightful, hopeful, and a really good read. It's well written and it puts an interesting spin on how society views women, diets, and being thin.

New Year's Resolutions

2009-01-25T22:49:00.006-05:00

Yep, I've been thinking about my New Year's resolutions. I am pretty good about sticking to them as well. Of course, I usually only have about one or two to work with. This year I am going to struggle with many more. So, without much ado, here we go:

1). Finish things in a timely manner - like, say for instance, publishing my New Year's resolutions. I swear my intentions are good, I just sometimes have a hard time with the execution. I will work on that this year.

2). Don't Be So Open- you know when you're courting a potential new friend, mentioning the umbilical hernia surgery which resulted in the loss of your belly button might be a bit too much. Mentioning that your stomach looks like the dude in the tv show, Kyle XY, is ALSO not a good idea. Note to self: This is NOT good starter conversation. Some people are SCARED by this kind of talk.

3). Drink More Liquids- Meaning BOTH water and alcohol (don't tell my kids). I had about six alcoholic beverages in all of 2008. I had a bit more water in 2008, but I am DEFINITELY not drinking enough liquids. I like to believe that for every headache I get (and I get my share), my brain is a dried up desert begging for rain. Does that make sense?

There IS one liquid I can't get enough of - COFFEE - with lots of milk and sugar (and sometimes whipped cream). I love it! The absolute BEST is Barnie's German Chocolate Cake Coffee Cooler OR Einstein Bagel's Vanilla Hazelnut. It's my little treat alongside my other demon: cinnamon and sugar bagels with strawberry cream cheese from Einstein Bagels.

4). Exercise More- So that I can eat more of the (above mentioned) bagels. Exercise is good for your body blah, blah, blah. The running begins when the temps. are 40 degrees or higher.

5). Get Up Earlier- But not after going to bed at 2:30am (refer to #6). I dream of watching the sun rise, being the first person at the gym, hearing the rooster crow, watching as the newspaper is delivered, hearing the first bird sing for the day, seeing the first dog walker- you get the idea.

6). Go To Bed Earlier- like earlier than 2:30am. What is wrong with me? I only saw the sun rise a handful of times in 2008. I relish those memories...

7). Write more - Well, this is going to start right away as I have become a new member of Facebook, I am working on a children's manuscript, and, of course, I have this blog. I'm thinking about joining Blogorama. Resolution #5 looks like it's going to be lost this year.

8). Eat more/more often - Word to the wise, it is best to eat a first meal before 2:00pm. You see, if you start your first meal at 2:00pm, then you find that you eat lunch at 7:00pm, and then, right before bed (around 2:00am) you eat dinner. This, of course, abuses resolution #1, #5, and #6. This also directly affects resolution #4 resulting in much more work for me. Note to self: this resolution needs to be a top priority.

9). Read more - this is happening. I read three books in January 2009. I LOVE to read, just don't have much time to do it. I always carry a book with me. You never know when you will have the chance to read in the car, the mall, at a drive through, while waiting to pick up a child at school...

Book Review: Happiness Sold Separately, by Lolly Winston. A story about a relationship gone awry due to the wife's inability to have children and the husband's inability to remain faithful. Realistic look at life and love. It's well written and ends on a hopeful note.

Any new resolutions for anyone?

The Holiday Pageant

2008-12-29T22:09:00.018-05:00

pageant- noun, an elaborate colorful exhibition or spectacle often with music that consists of a series of tableaux, of a loosely unified drama, or of a procession usually with floats.

Let me preface this by saying that our family doesn't practice religion. It's not that we don't believe, it's just that we don't attend church.

My daughter, Ginger Snap, is going to be in a holiday pageant and we are so excited. Up until a week before the performance, she had been calling it a "show". In my mind, this show was a display of our children in their finest duds, parading on a stage, and singing Christmas carols. I got part of the equation right.

Ginger Snap and I looked at all of her dresses and have determined which beautiful outfit she will wear. We figured out how she will wear her hair and what shoes will be worn. I asked if the boys were going to be in the pageant as well. My daughter looked at me, laughed, and said in her all-knowing voice, "of course Mommy. Everyone is included" (like I was crazy). Silly me.

So, the notice came home in her school bag that the "show" was actually a holiday "pageant". Parents were invited to watch their kids on stage. Ginger Snap told me she was going to sing holiday songs and that the girls were going to be beautiful angels. My comment: "Yes, in your gorgeous holiday dress, with your hair down, and your "clappy", black shoes, you will be a beautiful angel."

At the end of school, the week of the great event, my daughter excitedly jumped into the car and said breathlessly, "Mommy, I'm going to be a lamb in the pageant!"

"What? When? I'm so confused."

Laughing at me again (hmmmm... I see a pattern here), she said, "You're silly, Mommy."

"But I thought the girls were going to be angels."

"Noooo, Mommy... only three girls."

I think to myself, How come my daughter's not an angel? Did they have try outs?

Whatever. Ginger Snap is so excited about being an animal. She's certainly had a lot of practice. When she's around her brother, they are a bit like wild beasts. I think she is going to be the BEST lamb ever.

In the end, and rightfully so, I decided to nix the dress (pants were a much better option). Ginger Snap kept mentioning the fuzzy pants and ears she would be wearing as part of her costume for the performance.

The Holiday pageant included three wise men, a couple of (breathtaking) sheep, a couple of angels, Mary, and Joseph. A simplified version of the story of the birth of Jesus was told in poetic form and the kids sang three Christmas songs. Then all parents (with video cameras is tow) were invited back to the classroom to congratulate the actors. It was lovely. So, now I truly know what a Holiday Pageant is all about.

Happy Holidays everyone and Happy New Year.

Note: I impressed my son by spelling the words Spongebob Squarepants. In his mind I am still a semi-God. Life is sweet...

The Safe Spot

2008-09-14T23:33:00.006-04:00

I approach the elementary school property with dread and repeat over and over, "Find your safe spot, find your safe spot." Then I see both of my friends, Maple and Cinnamon. As long as I locate them, I am "safe." These two women have their heads on straight and I know that all is well as long as I can get to them before a mom of "previous importance in the workplace" approaches me or stops me. I must carefully navigate my way around the conversation time-bombs going off to ensure my safe arrival to my girlfriends.

Watch out to the left! There is the (ever present) political debate going on- Zoiks! I want to avoid that! On the right, I hear a couple of women deep in a conversation about 9/11. I just passed two women having a serious discussion about the PTA. Be careful- a volunteer request may be passed my way (not that this is a bad thing, it just that it's another thing).

Why do women (in particular) have these heavy discussions on the school grounds before after-school pick up? I mean, really. Maybe these stay-at-home moms/part-time workers have this need, this desire, to prove to others that they were once full-time "important" people (please note that not all moms are this way). Maybe these moms are insecure about staying home and try to reduce the feeling by having "big" conversations with other moms who are "in the know." Maybe these women spend so much time with children that these are the only opportunities to have the deep conversations. I don't know, but often I wait in my car until the very last minute so that I don't have to be involved in the heavy discussions. Does this make me a wuss? I don't think so. I like to think that I am conserving energy by avoiding these conversations because, face it, by 3:00 p.m., I am really tired and often I haven't eaten. That is no way to enter into a debate about the price of gas. Maybe I am thinking about this too much.

All I know is that I am truly grateful for Maple, who is a kind, soothing mom who has the ability to put me at ease with her grace and charm. Then there is Cinnamon, who is spicy and spunky, a girlfriend who can see a bright spot on a cloudy day and always finds a way to make me smile. Everyone needs a little Maple and Cinnamon in their day.

Do you have anyone like this in your life?

Survival Of The Fittest

2008-09-12T00:43:00.007-04:00

It's Friday afternoon and I'm so relieved. My son and I survived the first three weeks of first grade. You see, it's not just about dropping the kids off and picking them up... nonono ... there is so much more to it than that.

First let's start with making lunch, but not just any old lunch. This is Lightning's lunch and there are certain guidelines to be met. I must have the RIGHT kind of ham that's not too sweet or spicy, the bread MUST be white, and there can be NO edges. Pickles are good in a lunch, but olives are better. There can be NO Cheetos, Cheese Puffs, or any other kind of orange chips because my son has deemed them 'bad for his stomach'. Desserts should NOT be chocolate because, of course, he doesn't really like chocolate, and finally, there should be fruit in his lunch (as he has pointed out) because it's healthy for him, but he has also told me that he will not eat fruit... because, you know, it's so 'healthy and all that.' I will say, though, that even though he is picky, he does eat his lunch (even with the healthy items), which is very important and makes me happy.

Secondly let's talk about clothing. No, my son is not a fashion hound, although he has been bothered when other kids have his same shirt or shorts. I did point out to him that it may have something to do with the fact that Target is Heroin for adults and, through no fault of our own, we find ourselves buying things we might not necessarily need (such as 'awesome' shirt with cars on it). And, of course, about 1 in 2 adults is addicted to this "heroin". To offset this drug addiction and to search for the never-before-seen clothing, we have hit a few consignment stores where he has picked out one-of-a-kind shirts, pants, and shorts. This has suited him very well (and saved me a lot of money).

Beyond the home fashion there are the school's requests: Wednesday is P.E. and he has to wear running shoes in order to participate; the first Friday of each month is "spirit day" and (fortunately) I had the (unknown) foresight to purchase a school t-shirt. One day a month it is "Earth Day" when we appreciate our planet and all of the kids wear green. I have no idea when this occurs, but it sounds like a good idea. When it is raining I have to remember the umbrella. Crocs are frowned upon at school due to their poor behavior on a playground filled with wood chips, but sometimes he wears them anyway because his classrooms are not air-conditioned. In about two weeks the room temperature will not be a problem and Crocs will no longer be necessary.

Then there is the paperwork (AKA- homework-for-parents-to-make-sure-they-are-on-top-of-their-children). Look, I know this is part of the school process, I'm just pointing out that there is more to the first couple of weeks of school than shuttling kids back and forth to the property. Back to filling out "forms": join the PTA; volunteer for school committees; purchase school paraphernalia (spirit wear); buy a directory (well worth the $4); fill out emergency contact information; sell, sell, sell wrapping paper and chocolates for the fundraiser; purchase books through the Scholastic Book Club; sign the kids up for Marathon Kids (definitely a good thing), join the Cub Scouts, join the Spanish Club. Everything has a deadline as well, and trust me, for your kids sake DON'T FORGET THE DEADLINES.

Now we move on to homework- understand that my first child has entered the first grade, so the increased amount of homework is new to us. The first two weeks were a little overwhelming, but we are now in a good groove. So each day there is handwriting, spelling words, reading (sometimes a couple of books each day), and math homework. There is number memorization and a list of sight words. Spelling tests are weekly and started on the second week.

On top of the school, Lightning is taking swimming and playing soccer this fall. My daughter is taking a dance class. I am so busy and I only have TWO children.

Once I pick up my son from school, we come home, go through the backpack and have a snack. Then Lightning works on homework, while I prep food for dinner (or read a magazine). Once homework is complete, he gets to play (at least that's what it is some of the time) with his sister while I make dinner. Once dinner is finished, the kids eat dessert, take baths, and go to bed.

So, in summary, school is going well for both my son and I. Every test he does well on, offers better sleep for me at night. My daughter just started Pre-K last week, but I don't think we have steady homework until she enters Kindergarten -whew!

famous quote of the week by Lightning: 'Mom, there is a new teacher in my class. She is old like you, but she is pretty.' Well, at least I know where I stand in his eyes - hehehe.

Pre-Post Vacation Traumatic Stress Disorder

2008-08-12T00:01:00.008-04:00

I just discovered something while on our family getaway to Corolla, North Carolina. I need more attention. Is this pitiful? Selfish? Unfair? I'm not sure, but I don't think so. You know what? Our family needs more attention as well.

At home there is very little "down" time- time to think about the quieter things inside you... the things that hide right under the surface. You step away from the hectic that makes up your normal every day life and you realize certain things.

We are together as a family for EIGHT whole days- this is the first time in 12 months, sad but true. This is a rarity in Baltimore, Maryland (our home). We rarely vacation. My husband works long hours and travels occasionally during the week. On the weekend I work. Our family is not often together as a complete whole. Returning to Baltimore means breaking up our wholeness, paying bills, coexisting with a barking dog (who I share a love/hate relationship with- ask the dog, she would agree), scheduling doctor appointments, filling out school forms, buying school supplies, doing laundry, going to the grocery store ... oh, the list goes on. I DON'T WANT TO GO BACK!! I feel like the little kid that doesn't want to leave the toy store, or the man who just won the jackpot and is standing in Home Depot, or the woman who won a shopping spree on Park Avenue.

Our vacation was phenomenal. We arrived on a Sunday and stayed for a week in a condo with a beautiful pool. The weather was gorgeous every day and we were next to the ocean. Temperatures were in the low 90's and the ocean temperature was 84 degrees. We arrived on Sunday and around Thursday evening I started to fall into a depression (SEVERE). I started crying (secretly, of course) on Friday.

There was no easy way to drown out my return-to-Baltimore sorrow, so I did the most wise thing a mom could do while riding home in the family mini van- I started eating disgusting foods (but oh, so tasty to me). While in Corolla, North Carolina, I discovered a tasty little Outer Banks treat- canned boiled peanuts. I just popped the top and ate them cold and wet, right out of the can (well two cans, but who is counting). They are delicious! I added orange soda and sour cream potato chips to make a complete meal that I ate the whole way home. Need disgusting food combinations? Talk to me, the expert.

Flash forward two weeks...

There was no easy way out of this funk. It took a total of three weeks to pull out of the post-vacay depression, but I have something to look forward to now. In about 330 days, our family will be returning to the Outer Banks, so put the anti-depression meds away (until this time next year).

Day Two: Alone With Kids

2008-05-30T23:01:00.016-04:00

So, it is pretty much what you would expect. Yesterday was really tough, but there is always excitement and/or chaos depending on how you look at it, in our household. Today was your typical day- Ginger Snap refusing to eat, you know, anything. I often joke that she should eat air, but I don't think she would like the taste of that either. So, a half bowl of Rice Krispies for breakfast and a strawberry. Lunch consisted of about six spoonfuls of soup and a handful of Japanese rice crackers. She started to unravel around 2:00pm. Why? Well, Ginger Snap is HUNGRY!

We have pets - have I mentioned this before? Three cats and one dog to be exact. Marley, our dog, (named before the book or movie), has started her afternoon"incessant barking ritual". One of the cats decided that a blue?, yes blue, elastic hairband, would make a good snack. That was ejected along with whatever else was in her stomach- great fun! Sarah, our black cat has been licking the wall again-!?! (your guess is as good as mine). The third cat, Merle, is sleeping happily on my pillow- so good for someone with allergies and mild asthma.

Ginger Snap and I pick up Lightning from Kindergarten and from the start, it was all downhill. He was grumpy, hungry, and hot (as in dripping with sweat). All three of these adjectives lead to a toxic combination. I NEED A MARTINI and it's only 3:30pm!

The afternoon passes with "normal" household behaviors- two cats fighting, Marley chasing said cats, kids chasing Marley, Marley chasing kids. As Ginger Snap is running, she trips over Lightning's shoe and lands on her nethers (also known as the "V"). Ginger is making a screaming sound that is not even human. This all occurs while I am on the phone and in the process of inviting my sister in law to stay with us while she is in town. She kindly declines (I wonder why...).

After consoling Ginger Snap and her V, Lightning discovers a spider- announces he sees it and promptly stomps on it (another thing to clean up). He also discovered a small hole in the window screen in his bedroom which holds a pencil nicely (he showed me this proudly). And what do you know... it gets bigger when you put bigger things in it?

But the worst part of this time alone with my children is that my son celebrated his sixth birthday while my husband was away. It's not my husband's fault, and he wanted to be there, but it was sad. Lightning said he understood- we were going to wait to open all of his presents on the weekend when Daddy was back in town. I wanted to give him one gift to tide him over until the weekend. So, I selected a car that he could build, and wouldn't you know that when we opened the package, it was damaged and missing all of the wheels? Oyvey!

Later that night after the kids went to bed, I had my martini (dirty with an olive and worth every sip).

Girl Crush

2008-06-19T23:32:00.009-04:00

Men, tune in, you might enjoy this. What exactly is a girl crush? Well, in this case, it is a woman interested in another woman. In the sexual sense, you ask? I guess it could be for someone else, but in my case it's just an intense interest.

Back in high school, in Alpharetta, Georgia, I had a girl crush on a friend of mine. She was smart, yet she didn't brag. She was a talented equestrienne who taught me how to ride my first horse. She did unique, different things than any other 17 year old female I knew. She went on hunting trips with her dad and actually did the hunting as well. Additionally, she worked on construction sites with her dad during the summer to earn extra cash. She knew how to wear cowboy boots and look good in them. She cared for her goats, chickens, and horses on the six acres where she lived with her family. She didn't live by other people's standards and she was attractive. Her life appeared so glamorous, original, and exotic.

Girls, I know you have known someone like this in your life. I simply wanted to immerse myself in her life and spend as much time with her as possible. Sometimes I wanted to BE her, if only for a little while. Been there?

Skank For A Day

2008-04-21T22:19:00.013-04:00

Skank - noun. A person and especially a woman of low or sleazy character.

Ever have one of these? Oh Puhleeze. Yes, you have. I knew I was going to be a skank mom today when I saw the red spot on my cornea and my eyes hurt to blink. Oh no! This means I won't be able to wear my contact lenses and, even worse, eye makeup. Prepare yourself everyone... a scary version of myself is emerging. Without makeup I typically have people ask me if I am 1) sick, 2) crying, 3) tired. NO PEOPLE it's just that my eyelashes are blonde and therefore you cannot see them without eyeliner and mascara. It's going to be a long day.

So, to reflect the look of a skank I have found it necessary to carry the character from head to toe. Let's start with the hair - yuck! I washed it last night, yet today it looks three days old. It's not straight or wavy... today it's stravy (also known as "not pretty"). Next let's move on the outfit. Note my "fashionable" gray sweat suit (too large) and stained running shoes. There is a quarter size grease stain on one leg and the pants bunch in the back where the drawstring is cinched. This could potentially be flattering, making my tummy look small; however, it makes my backside look like two rumpled watermelons. Should I point out that this outfit is on day three - suweeet! Why take something off that can easily be worn to bed? Underwear? Nah. That just gets in the way. It's amazing that I am wearing a bra- let's not go there (only disappointment follows). Nice visual, huh?

I'm even eating like a skank (at least this is what I think). Hold the protein today. It's only soda, Reese's peanut butter cups, and Andy Capp's Cheddar Fries for me. No need to work out when living like a skank.

My confidence stems from the fact that I know I look frightful and I stare you in the face and dare you to tell me. I've gotten so angry with my skankiness that I am haughty and self-righteous. Yeah, that's right. I'm a skanky bitch today. What are you going to do about it?

Okay. That's through now. Can someone help me find my mascara and contact lenses? I want to be pretty again.

The Noise Hiatus

2008-02-19T23:56:00.014-05:00

I have a fantasy. No, no don't get the wrong idea. This fantasy has nothing to do with frothy, little black undies and a corset, although that's not a bad idea. It has everything to do with solitude and quiet... rich, velvety, thick silence. The simple requirement for this fantasy includes a one-night stay in a hotel (or two nights, or three...). Once in the room, the goal is not to get off of the bed - order room service, write, organize two year's worth of photos, watch a movie, check out websites, etc. Food is also part of the fantasy - room service that will include some kind of seafood, wine, salad, and a really rich, fatty dessert.

Our household consists of only two children; however, we also have 3 cats and a dog. The noise is continuous in our home. The kids start fighting at which point our Australian Shepherd jumps in on the act and starts barking (loudly). Of course the cats don't like this so usually at least one cat takes off running at which point our dog will begin pursuit. I am usually somewhere in the middle yelling (at what, I don't know). The kids calm down or go into timeout and peace is resolved until the next fight breaks out. We have moments of peace in the house, but they are all too short lived.

One might think that things are quieter after dark, and they are; however, this is when the night noises begin. My daughter tends to wake up at least once almost every night - bad dreams, bathroom visits, thirsty, hot... and when my son is sick, he often coughs for several hours throughout the night. Additionally, the cats will brawl downstairs after the lights are out.

I am home practically 100% of the time with the kids and I need a "noise hiatus". I just want to hear my thoughts (I think). Can anyone relate?

The Golden Check List

2008-01-29T22:46:00.008-05:00

Okay, so I am approaching 40 years of age (not there yet, but it is looming). I actually think 45 is going to be harder to handle, but 40 is the next "big one" for me. So, I have been thinking about the things-I-want-to-do-before-I-am-too-old-to-do-them also known as The Golden Check List. Honestly I don't think I am going to feel "old" until 70 or so (and hopefully not even then). So, let's get right to it. My list includes:

- Get published. I have been working on a children's book for almost three years now and I am dabbling with creative non-fiction

- Go to the Macy's Day Parade in New York

- Attend any of these fun shows - Saturday Night Live, David Letterman (closed for the writer's strike when in New York in December 2007), Conan O'Brien, or Oprah

- Parasail

-Go to Disney World. Can you believe I lived in Florida for 7 years during my college days and I never visited Disney World? I have only been one time (when I was about 10 years old).

- Go to New Braunfels, Texas to visit Schlitterbahn (the 'World's Best Water Park 2007'). http://www.schlitterbahn.com/

- Go to a topless beach - do I want to BE topless? Gee, I don't know. I will have to size up the beach competition first. Hopefully this will occur in someplace exotic. I don't want anyone I know to size up my B cups.

- Stay in a cabin in Colorado with my family and go skiing. I went skiing one time with my 8th grade class for a day trip. Kind of ironic because I lived in Georgia at the time and currently I live in Maryland. I don't even own a snow suit!

- GO TO EUROPE!!! I have never been to Europe. The only "foreign" locales have been Montego Bay, Jamaica; and Tiajuana, Mexico (do not reccommend this location to anyone). The list of desired locations include Greece, Holland, Italy, Switzerland, Sweden, India, Australia, and Austria.

- Go on a family vacation to Canada.

- Go on a family trip to a tropical, foreign location such as St. Thomas, Ocho Rios, and/or St. Lucia.

- Jump out of an airplane (this is a 40th desire)

- Wear a thong on a beach (probably best in an exotic locale where the likelihood of seeing anyone I know will be nil). This may not go over well in the Outer Banks of North Carolina. I will also have to give advance notice to onlookers regarding my pasty whiteness. What's that glare on the beach, you ask? Oh, that's just my ass reflecting light.

This is just a starter list. Have any thoughts?

The Chaos of Christmas

2007-12-31T20:26:00.000-05:00

Christmas is such a jolly time - rude drivers at the mall (including hand gestures), fighting for a parking spot ANYWHERE, crummy weather, long lines, filling out endless Christmas cards, frantic purchases (because I waited too long), pre-a.m. children wake-up time on Christmas (because, you know, it's important to be the first one to see the piles of gifts), desperate anticipation of opening all of the piles of gifts, getting the gifts mixed with the massive piles of wrapping paper debris, accidentally throwing away some of the miniscule pieces of presents that your children have frantically opened, realizing that certain necessary pieces of presents are missing (such as assembly directions and parts) on said gifts making them useless to the owner... sigh.

This is our Christmas. It would not have been so bad, but our home is also under construction, wait, let me re-phrase ... our kitchen is under demolition (or a bomb attack) and our family is sitting in the aftermath of debris, dust, and CLUTTER. We have all new cabinets and appliances nestled happily in our dining room and living room. Our family of 4 humans, 3 cats, and 1 dog live on the couch on the main floor. The basement holds the excess furniture from our dining room, so, like the main floor, it is an unfriendly environment for children. Fortunately, the upstairs is still habitable.

My husband and I would agree that we have probably spent 30% of our time trying to locate things on a regular basis. I'm not talking about the car keys or a wallet (although we misplace those as well). I'm talking about the butter, bread, ANY matching pair of socks, Ginger Snap's pink shoes (missing since deconstruction began), my bra (don't worry I have another one- good thing!), toy cars, stuffed animals, the bagels, the cereal, a knife (any knife), paper, scissors, tape, etc. The list goes on and the above is an example of what we might "lose" in one day. This explains why it takes me 45 minutes to make Lightning's lunch for school.

The construction is only 4 weeks underway, however, we have been without an oven since August 2007 (5 months) and we have never had a dishwasher. I must keep reminding myself to hang tight because (hopefully) this kitchen renovation will be completed by March 2008. The new design is fantastic and it will be oh so user friendly.

Okay, okay, okay. It did not feel as much like Christmas this year due to the alterations in the kitchen, however, I must remember that we have our health, we have each other (fighting, pushing, and time outs included), we have food in our bellies, and warm beds to sleep in. Isn't this enough??? Yes, but I would still like that trip to Europe ... whatever. By this time next year the kitchen renovation will be a distant memory (right?) To you and yours, have a fabulous 2008!

I Eat Dead Cow - Vegetarian Anyone?

2007-11-18T22:05:00.000-05:00

So, the family is sitting at the dinner table and we are having a REAL dinner: steak, potatoes, salad, and dinner rolls. I am so excited because it is rare that we are 1) all together at the same time, 2) not eating cheese pizza, 3) eating a solid meal with protein, and 4) all in a good mood due to this appetizing meal placed before us. My son, Lightning, who is 5 years old and inquisitive about everything (sometimes to a fault), asks me just after I have taken a large bite of medium rare COW,

"Mommy what kind of meat is steak?"

I respond, "Steak comes from a cow."

He pauses to take this in and asks, "Did they dead this cow?"

I slow my chewing because I know where this is heading. Swallowing hard and taking a drink first, I reply, "Yes, this cow was killed before we bought it in the grocery store."

My daughter, Ginger Snap (who is 3 years old) screeches, "Ewwwww, yuck. This is dead cow?! I don't want to eat this!"

I look at Ginger Snap with understanding and suggest that she focus on her potatoes, which are NOT meat - they are a vegetable.

Lightning follows with, "Did the cow hurt while it was being deaded?"

I look at my husband who raises his eyebrows at me, remains mute, and puts his fork down. He has left the steak and is now eating salad (smart man). I look down at my once appealing steak, that is now a slab of once-alive cow sitting in a pool of reddish brown gravy. I think to myself, someone please help me.

Trying to lessen the blow I say, "I don't know if the cow was hurting. Maybe it just died of old age (my GOD, if this is the case, then I am finished with meat. How is this any better than killing a cow?)"

"Why do cows die? I don't know if I want to eat an old cow. But sometimes they dead, I mean, kill the cow before we eat it, right?"

"Wow Lightning, you are asking really good questions and I am just not sure about the answers. Did you have a good day at school? Were you good today? What did you do outside at recess?"

"Yes. I had a good day. I stayed on green all day and we played tag outside. So, mommy what kind of meat is bacon?"

"Bacon comes from a pig."

My daughter freaks. "I love pigs! I don't want to eat pigs!"

Lightning rationalizes, "So, we eat cows and pigs. Does a pig know it's going to be deaded?"

The dinner conversation continues in this refrain through the entire meal. I have now determined that 1) family dinners are not what they used to be, 2) pizza sounds like a delicious option, and 3) I am now a vegetarian. I can't wait until he asks me where foie gras comes from.

The moral of the story? Eat peanut butter.

Famous Ginger Snap quote: 'There are two girls in my class with the same face. They are not twins mommy, they are sisters.'

Famous Lightning quote: '1600 million years old is older than Dad, right?'

I'm In Kindergarten - Again

2007-09-28T16:12:00.000-04:00

My son just entered Kindergarten, and by virtue of being his (stay at home) mom, I have, too. I thought I might now have a bit of relief from the hustle and bustle of my former part-time Pre -K son and the requests and demands that came with the package. I was wrong. With Kindergarten starting I suddenly found myself being asked to join the PTA, help with the ice cream social, participate in the wrapping paper fund raiser, volunteer in the cafeteria, help as a hostess at functions, assist with bake sales and the holiday bazaar. There are also requests for donations - prizes, magazines, and art supplies. I don't mind all of this "participation" - I can pick and choose what I wish to do, but it is a lot to take in. Additionally, I want Lightning's school experience to be pleasant and memorable. My mom, Juniper, was very involved with my elementary school experience, and it was wonderful.

This new "involvement" includes working with and being around a lot of other MOMS. This means, of course, that there are cliques - flashback to middle school. Every day as Ginger Snap, Lightning, and I walk to school we see swarms of people, mostly moms. Some people walk alone with their kids (like me) but there are many Mommy Clumps.

I thought about whether or not I would want to be a part of a Mommy Clump and the answer is "No". I am happy to remain an Other. Of course there is no guarantee that you will be allowed into the Mommy Clump even if you want to be included. First you have to follow a few unwritten rules. You must have the right clothes, typically some sort of cargo short/pants and pullover "Polo" type shirt. Depending on the Clump, you either wear full makeup or none at all. If you are in full makeup then you must also have salon-styled hair, and a manicure or pedicure. If you wear no makeup, then your hair is typically short and wet, having that "just showered" look. To make the "look" complete, regardless of makeup or no makeup, you must have the all sporty cross trainer walking shoes. A coffee cup in hand is mandatory and you really should be pushing a stroller with at least one child in it. It is important to talk loud and walk slow. Stopping in the middle of the sidewalk mid-conversation and ignoring other people (as they try to walk around the Clump) is also a key to being a part of many of these groups.

If you are an Other then you don't have a clique (and probably no manicure either), but you can hold your own when it comes to wardrobe. In my low rise jeans, Mary Jane's, and vintage t-shirt, I plan to stay an Other (naturally being a Non-Conformist). In a lot of ways, I am living my child's existence with him, at least to a degree. At some point Lightning won't want me to be as involved. Now is a golden opportunity to embrace Lightning's life and do my best to ensure a happy childhood experience and represent him to the best of my ability.

Can you relate?

Famous Lightning quote on the second day of school: 'Mom, there are 5 million kids in my school.'

Handsome Man is Showing Me His WHAT?!!

2007-10-31T21:59:00.000-04:00

I swear to God, I don't know why these things happen to me... kind of scary... kind of interesting. My life is full of these bizarre happenings.

So, I'm driving to work. If you live anywhere near Washington, DC or 495, you know that in order to beat traffic, you leave earlier than anyone has a right to be awake. However, everyone has this same mentality and we all find ourselves on I-95 at 6:20am driving with a gajillion other cars. The sun is just rising and I am listening to NPR, drinking my coffee and eating a muffin. Out of the corner of my eye a blue pick up truck is keeping up with me. I look over and there is a good looking man in a business suit smiling at me and I see something else. I squint and he maintains eye contact. OH MY GOD!!!! MY EYES!!!! IT CAN'T BE!!!! I just saw his tallywhacker standing tall peeking above the door. How is it possible I can see IT?! Is he sitting on books? Is that real? Oh my Lord, I can't process ... don't want to see that while I'm eating breakfast... and it gets better. I drive away and HE FOLLOWS ME. He pulls up beside me again (remember all this time we are driving 65-70mph) and holds up a sign that reads, "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

What is this? Am I on candid camera? I look at him and shake my head "NO". Now I'm getting angry. Who does he think he is? I try to slow down so I can get his license plate but he takes off. Then it's over. What just happened? Am I flattered or disgusted? Is he going to a job or is his job finding women alone in their cars on a highway and jingling body parts out of a window?

What's the moral of the story? Listen to your mom and leave your clothes on.

Anyone have a similar story? No, I didn't think so. There are many more stories to share with you, so stay tuned.

A Walk With The Peacocks

2007-08-29T23:39:00.000-04:00

It's 1994. I have no money, no solid job, no home, no relationship, having just ended a terrible engagement with Mr. Psycho. As I am looking for employment, my Uncle's girlfriend (now his wife, Honeysuckle) let's me take over her apartment. This is fortunate because all I have is my cat, my 1988 Honda Civic wagon, my childhood bed, and a small amount of work clothes. I am so grateful for Honeysuckle's kindness (and her television). I may not have much, I tell myself, but I have my health, a loving cat, a roof over my head, and transportation.

Although the apartment complex is nice, there are a few oddities. There is a lot of noise in the surrounding trees ... cats constantly meowing and I never see them. The weird thing is that my cat is terrified by the noise (not a typical reaction from one cat to another). Another odd thing - within a week of living in the apartment, I had a visitor (a strange visitor). An older, self-proclaimed "biker" came to my apartment and asked for MY HAND IN MARRIAGE - stranger still, he had a ring. I kindly declined and we remained friendly towards each other. About two months later all of my underwear went missing from a community room washing machine. I assume (maybe incorrectly) that Biker Man had them strung up in his apartment (just a suspicion that I did not wish to pursue).

Back to the meowing ... so much noise! I am thinking that this apartment may not be the paradise I am trying to make it. With the little bit of money I make working part-time through a temp agency as I look for full time work, I only have $10/week for food. Therefore, I live solely on canned tuna and potatoes. Man, am I hungry! Due to the recession (at the time), it is hard to find work in my field (architecture). My weight drops to 105 lbs. (note: I am 5'-6"). I look hungry. To take my mind off of my growling stomach, I begin taking long walks on the quiet suburban road behind my apartment building. I find many surprises along the way. The meowing is incessant and blocks out pretty much all other noise. Following the nicely landscaped road, I pass many glamorous new neighborhoods. As I walk I approach a single, large, abandoned two-story house on what looks like 3-4 acres. The house is majestic and I spend a little time admiring it. This is when I notice several small, black and white spotted bunnies peacefully eating grass on the property. They look like pets! Then a cat comes up behind me and scares me by meowing loudly. I turned around to face this audacious cat, and I am shocked to see a PEACOCK! Understand that I am living in an apartment complex in Tampa, Florida, right off of a major road (Dale Mabry). Apparently I surprise the peacock because it gives me an impressive display of its plumage. I stand in awe as five other peacocks meander across the street, not even remotely concerned by the cars slowly trying to pass by.

Then I look around me. I watch as one peacock follows behind a man as he mows the lawn. I see several perched in people's trees and there is one comfortably sitting on top of a Toyota sedan in a driveway. Here is what I found out: The former owners of the majestic, abandoned house once owned all of the surrounding land - roughly 70 acres. Slowly, the owners sold off the land to the now-existing "glamourous neighborhoods". The wealthy land owners had a variety of pets and exotic animals. Upon vacating the property, the owners apparently decided to "free" the rabbits, dogs, cats, and peacocks so they could continue to thrive in what was always their home. It makes a great story.

My life did not get easier while I lived in the apartment, but being surrounded by surprising beauty and animals provided me with a certain "calm." Who else do you know that can say, "I took many walks with the peacocks?"

Center of Attention ... I'll pass thank you!

2007-07-06T22:25:00.000-04:00

Remember back (way back in my case) when you wanted to be noticed? Maybe you wanted to have certain friends, or you wanted a special boy or girl to "see" you. Or, as in my case, I wanted to impress a teacher with my writing or art ability. You wanted to be accepted, appreciated, and approved of by others. To do this meant that you might end up in the spotlight.

Then you're finished with school and you've moved on to the difficult (at least in my case) task of finding a job. Once again, you must strive to be the center of attention - to stand out amongst your peers. I basked in all of those moments.

Fast forward 10-15 years and two children:

The idea of being the center of attention takes on a new meaning - one that I don't wish to be a part of - let me explain...

On a sunny in Maryland, I am happily part of a mass of moms converging on a large playground. I blend nicely with the crowd - yeah! At this time Lightning is 4.5 years old and Gingersnap is 2.5 years old. I have a stroller and all the necessary snacks, water bottles, juice boxes, cell phone, car keys, and changes of clothes. I feel good, secure, and confident. This will be a fun stop. We are 15 minutes into our playground visit when I see my daughter break away from the pack. I was worried this would happen. As I start jogging toward her, Lightning joins me. I call out to Ginger Snap to "stop" at which point she starts running faster (toward the busy street). She looks over her shoulder and laughs. No longer am I part of the pack - I now (sadly) fit into the elite few moms who always find themselves in the center of attention.

You see, to be the center of attention as a mom usually means that you have children that put you on this "pedestal" - temper tantrums, the elusive child making a dash for what she/he defines as freedom (the street, a parking lot, the interior of a store), the falls (off of furniture, at playgrounds, down stairs), the child playing hide and seek in Target - and getting lost.

My children are my love, my life, and my source of inspiration. They are also my source of exhaustion. Are you the center of attention or do your children take center stage?

My Girlfriend Is Just Not That Into Me

2007-07-24T23:59:00.000-04:00

So, you called her again and left yet another message. It's the same pattern - scheduled playdates cancelled, voice messages left with no response, unanswered emails. You're not giving up on her, though. Eventually she will get back to you, probably.

Why do you like her? Well, she's interesting and she doesn't hound you. She's a little bit distant but that's because she 's really busy, you tell yourself. She doesn't let you "in" - you have to work to get to know her - ask a lot of questions. She fears commitment and that's why you tread lightly. She's just like ... wait a minute ... she's just like a bad boyfriend!

Oh my God! you tell yourself. You just realized that your girlfriend is just 'not that into you'.

What to do? What to do? What a yucky thing to realize - that you aren't that important. It's not that she doesn't like you (you hope), you're just not very high on her priority list. She doesn't have time for you OR she doesn't choose to make time for you. It's hurtful at first. Then you realize that you either stick around and hope for the phone call or move on and let her go (and let her do whatever is so important in her life). It's all so silly, yet we all get into relationships like this sometime in our life and we ultimately question ourselves - what am I doing wrong? Why doesn't she want to do something with me? Is she just being polite when she does call or is she just that busy? I know a couple of people that fit this profile. Now that I have figured out their "story", I get to decide what to do. If nothing else, at least the sense of control brings me a little satisfaction because, really, we are all very busy. Why wait for someone who only wants to be a "Sometime Friend"?

Do you know anyone who treats you like the Wednesday night waitress (no names please)? You know - small shift, crummy hours, small tips ... I want to be the Saturday night waitress. I think I am worth it. Comments anyone?

Identity Crisis

2007-04-14T22:38:00.000-04:00

How do you classify children of multicultural families? Something to ponder....

I work for Cultural Care Au Pair as a Local Childcare Coordinator. In this role I have started to befriend the au pairs and host families assigned to me. Recently, our family was invited to a Chinese New Year celebration. The crowd was interesting and multicultural and the food was excellent. Our family (including our kids) had a really nice time, and at the end of the day my husband had a discussion with Lightning (our son who is 4.5 years old). My husband is Chinese and the discussion was about Lightning's ethnicity. The conversation went something like this:

"Lightning did you know that you are both American and Chinese?"

Lightning offers a loud belly laugh and says, "No I'm not! I don't speak Chinese."

"Actually, you are. You know that Mama and Papa are Chinese and so am I. This means that both you and Ginger Snap are part Chinese as well. Both of you are also part American, like mommy."

Lightning pauses to take this bit of information in. Then his face lights up and he says, "Yes, yes, I am Chinese! Daddy listen - azul... rojo...uno. I CAN speak Chinese!"

Now it's daddy's turn to laugh.

And so, my son now knows his true identity... or at least most of it. You see, my children are also Dutch (my side of the family). To make things more complicated, although my children are 50% Chinese, we do not celebrate Chinese New Year. However, we DO celebrate the Feast of St. Nick (Dutch Christmas) and the All-American Christmas. Dutch Christmas (we call it "little Christmas") is held on December 6th. So, the month of December is both fun and busy.

So, back to the big question: how do you classify children of multicultural families? In regard to our family I have heard the terms Amerasian and Eurasian. On television a half-Korean, half-American model referred to herself as a "Halfie". Typically on forms, we claim our children to be "Asian/Other". Just for fun, my husband and I decided to create new titles for our children in regard to their ethnicity. Here is what we came up with:

American + Chinese = Americhi

Asian + Dutch = Asdutch

Dutch + Chinese = Duchi

Dutch + Chinese + American = Duchinerican

We finally settled on:

Chinese + American = Chinerican

The truth... our children's ethnicity is not important. The fact is that our children are beautiful, plain and simple and we are lucky to have them.

Any comments?

Model Behavior

2007-06-12T22:13:00.001-04:00

Courage - noun. the attitude of facing and dealing with anything recognized as dangerous, difficult, or painful, instead of withdrawing from it; quality of being fearless or brave.

Who wants to be a model - you know, catwalk and all that? I did, at least, while I was in my sophomore year at the University of Florida. Being 5'-6" and 100lbs. isn't going to cut it, at least, that's what I thought ...

Walking across the college campus, a fuschia flier caught my eye on a bulletin board - BSU Presents: A Fall Fashion Show. Tryouts were being held two days later on a Friday night in an on-campus auditorium. I jotted the info down and ran to class. What good luck, I thought. There didn't appear to be any restrictions on height - hooray!

I didn't tell anybody (including my sister) for fear that I would jinx the whole situation. Strutting out of my dorm room on Friday night, I felt pretty sassy - black pants, super high heels, sexy shirt, lots of big hair (this was the '90's), and full make up. I hope I am selected, I think to myself as I approach the auditorium door. I open the door with sweaty palms and enter the room. The door creaks and 1,000 people turn to look at me.

Uh oh, I must be in the wrong place, as I look back at a room of African American men and women. A man on stage smiles and says, "Are you here for the fashion show audition?"

It's at this point that I realize BSU does NOT stand for Boston State University, it stands for Black Student Union. Okay, so a little insight about me, I am not one to shy away from uncomfortable or nerve racking situations. In some ways, I am drawn to them. Put me on an empty dance floor and watch me shine.

"Yes, I am here for the audition."

It went very well and the next day I was called and informed that I was officially in the fashion show with roughly 40 other people. We had rehearsals (almost everything involved choreography) five nights a week, four hours a day, for four weeks before the actual show. Ultimately I was selected for the evening gown, swim suit, and dance sequence (because although I was a white girl, apparently I could shake my booty and represent).

About half way through training for the fasion show, I mentioned my "star" status to one of my siblings, Tulip. I asked her not to tell anyone and I received the promise. The night of the show arrived quickly. While I was sitting on the shoulder of Derrell in a miniscule bikini two-piece swimsuit, waiting for the fashion show to start, I thought it would be nice if I knew someone in the audience. The curtain went up slowly. I kept telling myself, embrace your pasty-whiteness because you are the ONLY one (and I think I am reflecting light). I was wrong.

Tulip had secretly invited 30 of our sorority sisters (go Chi Omega!) to support me. As nervous as I was, I was so grateful for Tulip's support. The night progressed in flashes: my swimsuit riding up into the great unknown, tripping, but catching myself in my evening gown, "shakin' it" during the Janet Jackson "Miss You Much" dance sequence.

What a great night to remember. Could you do it?

How Do You Talk To Squirrels?

2007-05-25T00:46:00.000-04:00

Okay, this is a true story (I have many stories like this). I am driving home from the hotel where I previously worked. It is about midnight. As I turn onto the road I live on, I see a small animal in the middle of the road running toward my car lights. Several thoughts run through my mind - why is an animal in the road running toward my car? Why is the animal not afraid? Is it someones pet? What kind of animal is that?

I don't want to hit this animal so I stop in the middle of the road expecting to see movement away from the car. A few moments pass and nothing happens. With the car still running, I open the door and step out. Much to my surprise, this unknown animal jumps on my right foot and looks up at me expectantly. I am staring into the eyes of a baby squirrel, about the size of a softball. I freeze - don't want to hurt it, scare it, or cause it to bite me. Meanwhile it is still perched on my foot looking up at me with large, innocent eyes. In my "frozen" state I have blocked the road both ways. Minutes pass and a car comes towards me and stops in front of my car. A young man jumps out of his car and calls to me, "What's goin' on?"

I explain the situation to him (the squirrel is still contentedly sitting on my foot). The young man offers to help by placing an extra shirt he has in the car on top of the squirrel in an attempt to gently capture the little guy. I intended to take the squirrel to an animal rescue shelter that caters to exotic animals (I have dropped off other animals in the past). As the young man is approaching my car with the shirt, a woman pulls up behind me, stops, opens her door, and yells, "Looks like there's something interesting happening here. Do you need help with something?"

I explained the situation to her and she said, "You will need a box to transport the squirrel. I have one you can take." At this point the young man has collected Squirrel from my shoe and carried the animal filled "knapsack" to the donated box. I thank everyone, run home to show my husband of my "find", and I head out to the 24 hour animal shelter. I end up home around 1:30am completely satisfied with my interesting night, the kindness of strangers, and the end result of adorable Squirrel. He was released to the the nature preserve after two days of care.

Next up ... a couple of days ago my friend, Sassafras, came across four baby bunnies in her yard (each about the size of half a tennis ball), and she asked me to help capture them. The story ended happily and they too are looking at a life of luxury in the nature preserve.