Easter Dresses

This morning as I was getting ! ready for church I realized that I hadn't bought her (or made her, for that matter) a special easter dress. She's growing like a weed and I've just been keeping up at keeping her in any clothes at all. I went around a few weeks ago and bought a bunch of summery dresses for our trip to New Orleans and pending our return home but I hadn't thought specifically of Easter. As I was grabbing for her pants and onesie, I thought better of it and pulled out one of her pink dresses. Still, it was cold so I went ahead and slid on some pink pants.

When I was a girl, my sister and I always had Easter dresses. They were made by my grandma or by mom. They were fiercely impractical for Easter but I've come to realize that that is something of a rule. I remember many Easters of waking up at crazy silly hours (something like 5a.m. a lot of years), dressing quickly and off to church for Easter Sunrise Service. We had to be there early because mom was always helping with the breakfast. And then the WORST thing possible would routinely happen. The pastor would get the inspiration that we needed to have Easter Sunrise communion outside. Easter in Illinois typically means morning temperature in the upper 40s. Trotting outside to stand in a circle for communion is all good and well for men- they're dressed in pants and shoes without holes. Women and girls are dressed in thin cotton dresses and sandals. We could have woolen stockings on and it would still be freezing. So, yeah, I have bad memories of singing an extra chorus of He is Risen while freezing. Yes, I could have worn a coat, but the coatrack isn't in the path of the door and its encouraged that we all go out together. Terrible. Freezing.

I've learned something over the years though. Easter rolls around and women find new dresses, new sandals, shed stockings and coats. And there we have it. Women traipsing into the church with no sleeves. Girls with poofy dresses as blue as the ribbon on their dress. Numb, the whole lot. And so again, I wore a skirt and sandals. I did have the good sense to put on a sweater. Instead of little pink bloomers, ! got a footy pants under her dress.

Easter was a hard day all the way around. We were at church for Sunrise service. Then breakfast, then regular church and Sunday School. We were allowed a bit of candy from our Easter basket but by time we got home we were hungry and had the sugar shakes. Then after lunch we ate more candy. I associate Easter with feeling vaguely sick from being too tired and having too much sugar. Easter normally meant that I was in trouble by 4:30 in the afternoon.

So this morning I allowed @ one piece of candy and made him sit for a solid breakfast. Then there was no more candy until after a solid lunch and then candy intake has been limited. I've given him plastic Easter eggs with candy which I'm hoping encourage portion control. So far, so good. We'll see.

scouting

At the beginning of the school year the local boy scout leaders came to the school and led an assembly for the boys. They got the boys all hyped up about scouting and the wonderful times of campfires and camping that they would enjoy. @ came home on cloud 9 about scouts. "All the boys are going to be scouts, Mom." After checking his backpack for a note about the scouts and finding nothing, I asked how he knew all about scouts. "Oh, they had all the boys come to the gym and they told us about." and he rattled on about the wonders of scouting. Jonathan and I chatted about it and Jonathan, who had a good scouting experience as a boy, said maybe, we'll see. A day or two later we got a packet about the scouts and when the information meeting would be. So the boys went and @ came home a scout. It wasn't expensive and Jonathan said he had made it clear we wouldn't be selling anything (Jonathan and I aren't into kids selling stuff because it normally is parents selling stuff). We went around to the boy scout store and bought the uniform and generally enjoyed looking through the store. And I kind of sold myself on the wonders of scouting- envisioning father son camping trips back home in Asia.

Over the months scouting has been fun for @ and a constant source of mystery for me. I put scouting under Jon's responsibilities knowing that come a new baby my memory for extracurriculars would be gone. So I've never really kept track of the meetings or the details of scouts. Jonathan is in charge of scouts. I've sent the cookies and the drink and gone to a few pack meetings. That has been nice.

Last weekend they organized a bowling trip. Jonathan and I were really pleased because that was something we had meant to take @ on while we were in the states and had forgotten. @ and Jonathan had a great time bowling and we agreed we'd do it again before we left the states. The troop leaders wanted the boys to go to a radio station. The radio station they wanted to visit didn't return phone calls and they wanted to get it done before the awards banquet. Thursday we went out and the boys got a tour of a small town radio station. Fortunately Jonathan's brother had worked in radio during High School and College so Jonathan asked some leading questions to extend the tour to 15 minutes. The boys liked making there voices sound funny.

Our troop leaders are two moms that are exceedingly kind and patient. They've organized good lessons for the boys while not entirely understanding the details of scout structure. Scout structure seems to be and enigma to everyone except that insurance and scouting rules mandate lots of strict training for parents- to protect boys from predators. Those are good rules but they can be a little confusing to follow. We have a den where the dads are always able to be with their son and so the rules are a bit easier to follow.

The thing I haven't loved about scouts is the by products of being in a testosterone fueled environment. @ has learned to be crude. Fart jokes and burping. I know that sounds like a mom, doesn't it? And @ was bound to learn those things anyway, maybe, maybe not. But scouts certainly seems to encourage it. Oh, and my favorite thing he could learn, how to objectify women. The first pack meeting I went to, for the entertainment portion, the Webelos had a top ten list of boy scout pick up lines. No kidding. 8 yr olds with pick up lines. Most were light hearted fun. The stand out of the evening "I know 100 ways to tie knots." think about it a minute. @ didn't get it, he didn't get any of them fortunately but I don't want to explain that to my 6 yr old.

So last evening was the banquet. I'm a little confused why the end of the year banquet was in February but not a big deal. @ got his belt loops. He has done fairly well. This morning as we were going through the belt loops he had earned we saw the good manners belt loop. For the most part @ has Good Manners but the last week he's been a bit of a creep so Jonathan and I held back the Good Manners belt loop. We told him he has to earn that one back. The creepy behavior really has nothing to do with scouts, just being a 6 yr old checking boundaries. Still if we can use scouts to rid the house of creepiness, so be it.

overheard @ bedtime

@ seems to be in a growth spurt so I went through his underclothes basket while Jonathan was reading the night time story. I pulled out the smallest looking 4Ts and opened up a package of 5Ts in his cabinet.
@: "Dad, let me know what color underwear you're wearing in the morning so that I can wear the same color. "

homeschooling with a broken arm

No kidding, I'm nearly positive @ fell on his ear and broke it. Wednesday we didn't really make an attempt to get homeschooling in. What kind of parents make there kid go to school when they broke and arm the evening before and had really terrible sleep? We read the Bible passage and reviewed the memory verse. I didn't think it would be a problem to pick up on Thursday, maybe not an aggressive catch up schedule but certainly with a slower version of the same routine. Little did I know an arm break gives you school amnesia. The child barely remembered his name. I grumbled through the day- trying to extract a memory of anything we'd talked about over the last week.

"Remember the dinosaurs from last week and cool video's we watched" --blank stare, crickets chirping.

"Remember drawing lines and matching the same objects" - hmmm

Note: New homeschooling mother did NOT kill child.

We slogged through Thursday. I skipped most of the phonics/ language arts stuff entirely- sequence a 4 step story- yeah, right. Thinking Friday we'll really get back on the horse. Not so much. Apparently it takes 3 days to recover the ability to turn on the brain. Math, normally one of his favorite lessons, couldn't manage 1 to 1 correspondence for counting! HELLO!

All of this helped simplify the decision, we aren't taking Monday off for the holiday and in fact we are doing review on Saturday. If we don't I'm pretty sure the child will never be able to turn his brain back on.

how @ broke his arm

@ broke his arm Tuesday afternoon on his bike. Just after 4p.m. he fell on an uneven patch of street. He's fallen a million times before but this time he landed just right. We brought him inside and iced his arm for about half an hour and when jonathan checked on him again he let out a cry. We looked at his arm and it didn't look obviously broken but everytime we moved it he yelped. So we loaded into the car (water, snack, change of clothes, baby book, passports, extra money, bank cards, mosquito repellent, ice packs, pillow to prop his arm) and went around to RS Elizabeth. Went into ER and by time Jonathan had returned after parking the car we were going into exam. I got out the whole story in local language. They touched around on his arm and he didn't yelp but when they went to straighten it a bit he let out a cry and we went down the hall to x-ray (paying for the ER visit 1st- 35,000 = $3.50). Paid for the x-ray ($16.00) they let me go in with him and we talked about wearing the heavy smock. Shot 2 pics of his arm- sure enough a fracture of the right arm above the elbow. Back down to ER to have the dr. read the x-ray. Then to Orthopedics, after making another stop at the cashier for an appointment fee ($12.50). Upstairs orthopede looked at x-ray, wanted to cast and sling him for 2 weeks. Into exam room for the cast. Setting the bone again in the permanent splint got another YELP CRY! Then after it was wrapped and splinted we were fine. Got him in a sling- found one that fit and then back downstairs for another trip to the cashier ($38.50 for the splint, cast, sling) and we were free to go. So for something like $70, @ got some of the best care in town for a broken arm! Really thankful for how easy the whole hospital thing was.

He was a trooper the whole way. I had given him a bit of children's panadol before taking him to help take some of the edge off the ride and the jostling. He spoke politely to the ER nurses and told them without dramatics when it hurt and when it didn't- I was really impressed how well he handled the pain of having it moved. And Jonathan was able to tell him what was going to happen and what they were going to do.

Got home and he was so tired- after 8:00p.m. and no dinner and an irritating sling. He finally just started crying from sheer exhaustion. Jonathan washed him up, got him dressed for bed. I made him a sandwich but he wanted to lay down so we gave him some more children's panadol, said his prayer and turned off the light. He tapered off crying, laid still (he hasn't wanted to really move much since the break) and was off in 10 minutes to sleep. Having it be the right arm is really inconvenient for him because that's the side he sleeps on. He tossed and turned a good bit of the night but after the children’s motrin it seemed to settle down a bit.

Now 3 days on and its an inconvenience for him but overall the cast and sling don't seem to be much of a problem.

vocabulary

@ is learning new words all of the time and he's trying them out to see how to use them. We've heard lots of these things over the last few months and most of them make us smile. He has a "collection" of blankets. "Apparently" choosing a book is "complicated".

This morning while helping him put on his school uniform he said "I hate you mom." To which I said "@, that means you don't love mommy. Do you love mommy?"

"I hate you mom." At which point I decided he could get dressed by himself.

About 20 minutes later a sobbing boy comes with his underpants on. "I'm sorry mom, my words were mean." And then I helped him get dressed.

On the way home from school today "I have a sensational stomach that's why I can't speak /local language/."

Today at lunch "I have nightmares when I spin around."

Just now "I need this picture here (holding picture of himself, being placed into the pantry) to know its a party today."

yellow bunny rabbit

Tonight we were talking about how @ has admitted a new member to the circle of "guys". Woobie/aka Green Blanket, Doggy, and Peno are the "guys" (stuffed animals) that feature most prominently in @'s life. But of the late he has allowed in little green bunny rabbit. And tonight he asked if he had always had green bunny. I explained about yellow bunny rabbit and told him the story of yellow bunny rabbit.

Yellow Bunny rabbit was sent to us in Africa by my sister Jennifer. Jennifer is very good at holidays and gift giving, she remembers them and does them WELL. She's that person. So my sister sent our 8 month old child an easter basket complete with the annoying green grass, which Jennifer says is the best part (this was before she had kids). And @ didn't make much of it, he's 8 months old. He did latch onto the yellow bunny rabbit finally, but the rest of the uber-stimulating, learning toys were not so much a thing. He liked to pet and chew yellow bunny rabbit.

That December we were asked to leave and he had made an attachment to the rabbit and it came everywhere. So when we went to say final goodbyes to my dear sister Ab, yellow bunny rabbit came along. At some point in the flurry of what was a very quick trip, yellow bunny rabbit didn't make it in to the car. This happens to everyone and its normally not a big deal, you swing back by or pick it up next time. Problem is that we are flying out of the country in 5 hours and I will probably never see this person again on this earth. And you are throwing your 18month old into a world of flux and the least you could do is provide him the stability of the yellow bunny rabbit. So my friend knows we need this bunny and I don't even know its gone. She travels out to the airport at 10p.m. to bring the boy's yellow bunny rabbit. And we cry and say goodbye again...awful.

We get back to the states at christmas and are living with the grandparents and my sister says why don't you come down and stay at my house for a while. She's still living in her post Katrina apt and her house is sitting empty. A good excuse to have someone in the house, bring down some of her belongings she had left in IL and we could see her a little. And we could avoid the question of what next for a few weeks. So we're off to New Orleans. We load up the huge boat of a Crown Vic we've borrowed (thanks to my very extended adopted family) and yellow bunny rabbit is in tow.

During our time there we do some shopping. We have a few pieces of winter clothes and @ has very little. So one day we are out at the K-Mart. New Orleans is having lots of sales tax holidays to help people afford to buy stuff, particularly home remodeling stuff, post-katrina. And we're thinking we could buy this stuff in IL or we could help the local NOLA economy and buy there. So we're shopping. We get out to the car and there is no yellow bunny rabbit. Its a windy day, we start scouring the parking lot. Then we go back in the store and somehow try to convey to part-time, post-traumatic stress NOLA K-Mart employee that WE MUST FIND THE YELLOW BUNNY RABBIT! And so I'm trying to convey the urgency of I lost my home and I can never return and all I need to feel ok is for my kid to have this yellow bunny rabbit. K-mart guy= not getting it. So after searching the store, the parking lot and begging the guy to look one more time in lost and found, yellow bunny rabbit has returned to her home in NOLA.

The rest of the night I'm sick at heart. How could I have lost this yellow bunny rabbit and now we have nothing left. Not even the bunny rabbit. And I commenced boohooing all over again.

I didn't share that last bit with @, nor the frantic un-ravelled mom I was. But tender hearted @ did ask about "where is yellow bunny rabbit now?" And we talked about how maybe some other kid has him and its ok to loose a "guy" sometimes, we have others and the old ones are special memories... Very unconvincing explanation, I'm sure. So after the story, which I didn't intend to be a tragic reminder of loosing his toy, he suggested "we put up signs on all the trees so that if someone finds yellow bunny rabbit they could return him. " All the trees between here and NOLA... another explanation for another night.

remind me to tell you sometime how he came by green blanket...

singing

Today @ was running through the house singing

"Caste is a lie, Caste is a lie. Prime Minister, caste is a lie"

This from Caedmon's Call CD Share the Well a song entitled "Dalit Hymn" . And if you haven't given this CD a listen you really should.

impending death and other misunderstandings

I just came from putting @ to bed. I normally laydown with him in bed for an extra minute or two. He likes a little one on one snuggle time with each of us at bedtime. Maybe its a stall but I'll take the snuggle where I can get it. Normally he'll talk over something with us that has been on his mind. Something Cleo said to Clifford or a joke Pig made on Word World. In January it was concern over going back to America. He decided he didn't want to go to America and was under the impression that we were going tomorrow. We had quite a few friends coming and going from the states the months of December and January and somehow he got it in his head that we must be going too. And he didn't want to. This was a source of major concern for him and each day found us reassuring him multiple times that we were staying at home here for a long time "a lot of days @". So we put to bed the worry about moving to America and now I'm wishing for it to come back. Tonight the new concern surfaced "Am I going to die?" I told him that everybody dies, that's what happens but if we love Jesus then we get to go be with Him and that's great...
"Not for a long time?" A long time from now. And then after a minute or 2, he starts sniffling and then bursts into full fledge tears. "But I don't want to die. I don't want to be old. I don't want you to die. Can you pray and ask God to not let me die?" You can tell me a million different things I should have said but I was stumped as to how we got to "I don't want to die." Sigh... so we snuggled a bit longer until the tears passed and we prayed again. Now Jonathan is "bringing him a glass of water" (@'s stall whereby daddy comes in for a snuggle). I directed Jonathan to skip talking about death...

Oh Christmas Tree

We put up the christmas tree last weekend and it really is a nice tree. We bought it last year at a newly opened dept. store and it was the only one left so the guys at the store had to take apart the display tree to box it for us. We hauled it up the mountain only to take it down a few weeks later and move it back down the mountain. Its a nice tree and sets up well- for this I'm thankful but it always leaves me wanting.

When I was a kid we always had real trees. My mom loves christmas trees. We would go the first week of November to the christmas tree farm to pick out the perfect tree for us. My mom is less than lofty and so the perfect tree for us really was less than 5 feet. Of course the problem being when you pick the less than 5 ft. tree the first of November, that tree has grown what seems like 2 feet by the 1st of December and now we have a story kids. The nice young man would go out and cut down our tree for us in seconds and drag it around to the parking area. They'd shake it and wrap and slide it very easily into the car. We'd drink cider and smell trees and vaguely worry, just a little, that the tree seems a little taller and its pretty big around. Truth is the tree was way to tall for us, was twice as wide as it was tall and bound to have the crookedest stump you'd ever see. So when it came to getting the tree in the house its my mom, my older sister and I. Yeah, you're seeing it now. It was impossible to get out of the trunk and a brawl to get in the front door. The tree's crooked stump now takes over as my mom shimmies under the tree to screw in the bolts to hold the tree in the stand- which isn't really possible to do and have the tree stand straight because you can't screw bolts in evenly on an S curve. So then we all sigh. Mom manages to get the bolts in the tree, shimmies out, and the tree does a slow tip towards the ground. We catch the tree, mom shimmies under and re-works the bolts. This happens a few times and mom decides we need to take off a few branches. So the tree goes back outside (a full body fight ensues between girls and tree) and small women work on cutting off branches and "straightening the trunk", tree goes back inside with just a little swearing. Mom shimmies under and bolts tree. Tree falls over. Mom calls the pastor from our church- divine intervention is now necessary. Pastor Dave comes over and works the tree over, giggling only a little at the girth of the tree these small women have picked out. Tree falls over for Pastor Dave. but being a man he is undaunted. I really do remember tying the tree up that year but I may be wrong. Dave worked it over quite a bit, lots of "straightening" went on after Dave got hold of the tree but the tree stood.

Here is what I took away from putting up christmas trees as a child:
- buy the tree that is kind of your height- rounding up, of course.
- have goofy high hopes about the ease with which that tree will go into your house and the space you have allotted.
- putting up the christmas tree requires just a bit of swearing (I'm going to get in trouble for that but in truth my mom wasn't prone to swearing until putting up the tree).
- the lights won't work after you put them on the tree so plan on putting more on but the dead ones may spontaneously rejuvenate but don't count on it.
- put on that "Messiah" Cantata from the Gaither Vocal Band- its wonderful! Christmas isn't christmas without one of the Gaithers being Herod.
- Live christmas trees with white lights are painfully beautiful and bring peace to the home.
- No matter how much fighting and exhaustion goes into putting up the christmas tree you still have very fond memories of it and it always makes you laugh and you will do it again next year.

Girl Scouts

You have girls? They in Girl Scouts? Yeah, I thought not.

Reading this article about the Rethinking of Girl Scouts and remembering my time in Girl Scouts. We had just moved to a new town when I was in 4th grade and mom wanted me to make friends. My sister had been in Brownies when she was younger and the offer of a troop of 4th grade girls that all went to the same school seemed like a good idea. And in theory it was. Quickly though I learned that really it was an extension of a popularity contest, this time with mom's involved. One mom was the "leader" of the troop but really she was kind of a looser at that job. The "Co-Leader" was salivating after the "leader" title and so hyper-prepared for things, foisting around rules and badge work. It wasn't pretty and as a 4th grader I remember watching these two women kind of duke out the leadership role during our meetings.

Selling cookies was really entertaining because as an elementary student I quickly understood from my mom that selling things for school was a burdensome task- and she was right. I had no motivation to peddle things to my neighbors that had no value. Crocks of yucky cheese, teeny overpriced candles, and then Girl Scout Cookies. Now don't get me wrong, I love Thin Mints and those Lemon Cookies. But $4.00 for 12 cookies, are you serious? So my mom would buy some for us at home and the folks she worked with would buy several boxes but that was really all of me selling stuff. What potentially killed my motivation even more was what we were to do with the cookie money. Humanitarian good right? Paying for the big trip to a museum to learn stuff and earn badges? No. Each of the girls in the troop got $50 to spend on a trip to the mall. Yep. It was great at the time but I do remember being confused by our mission as Girl Scouts.

So am I sorry that Girls Scouts is dead? Sort of, but really if that was their mission in 1989 they were showing a real lack of direction and mission. Maybe some forethought, some innovation and driving forward Girl-hood. But Girl Scouts I'm guessing became irrelevant a long time ago for Girls and families. Truly that's too bad because I really do believe that Girls need direction and from as many sources as will provide it the better. I'm thankful I had lots of other places to look. Sadly though, Girl Scouts wasn't one of those sources.

information

This morning @ was flipping through by Through the Bible in a Year in a landed on #7. Then he told me that "The end of the world is coming because its almost Christmas." Less need for shopping I think.

by the numbers

Its still @'s birthday in the US and he hasn't woken up yet this morning from a late night of birthday presents, so we bring you the numbers.

4 - @'s age
2- school's he has attended
22- kids in @'s class
26- treat cups given away
7 - lbs of flour used in baking for his birthday
8- houses @ has lived in in 4 yrs of life
2- moves involving plane travel
36- visa pages filled in his passport
2009- when his passport expires
3- number of languages in his environment

school report day

@ is officially done with school for this year and he sort of passed Playgroup (KB). For only being in class a month he did really well even in the teacher's estimation. He knows his vowels in the local language (which is really going to screw him up if we go back to american school). He can count to 10 in both languages and in english he is pretty goo to 20. He is beginning to know his colors in local language. He's also done a good job making friends from what his teacher said, and since that was the goal I'm feeling pretty happy about the whole thing. He starts school again in a month and they think he can move up to the next class as long as its really socialization that we are after. He doesn't meet their academic standard but they do seem to be ok with that at the moment. They'll keep instructing him in academics but they won't worry about his ability to perform. And he gets to stay with kids that are at his age level that he already knows, that was my most important thing. This experiment really is about him meeting friends and them getting use to his foriegn-ness and then learning language from him.

I'll post some end of the school year pics over at Not as Daily later today.

monster school

Sadly the concern for @'s schooling didn't go away with the weekend. Yesterday it got a whole lot worse in fact. I had a friend who is a principal at the Immersion Elementary go over and check on @ during school. She spied on him a bit and it seems that really my worst fears were confirmed. The teacher really isn't doing a lot to help him make this adjustment, so he really is left in confusion for a good portion of his school day until the teacher comes along and corrects him. The problem is that she expects him to know what's going on, despite the language barrier and being 3 days new. Directions aren't being given. Sigh... So I don't know but am VERY discouraged.

The bright spot seems to be that the kids aren't afraid of him now. That's right, now. It seems his first two day kids burst into tears with the sight of @ and his white skinness. And this is a city of 3.5 million (approx) and kids have been taught by their parents to fear the white people. The white people are mean and take the bad kids. No kidding, this is what kids at young ages are really taught and they have a very real fear. I've heard of this is in villages but I thought surely it wouldn't be a problem in the city. So much for that. Sigh...

Also found out that even if things settle down in the adjustment that @ will probably sink with the next school year. They expect kids (4 y.o.) to be able to write well enough to take dictation. Needless to say, @ isn't going to be there nor is it developmentally appropriate for him to be at that level. Its been suggested that I hire @ a tutor. Yeah, I pulled a little hair out over that.

Beginning to look a lot like homeschooling the early years though. We'll keep him in for the month but after that no promises. Of course I haven't ruled out having a roll on the ground fist fight with the kindergarten teachers yet. I'm pretty sure I could take them.

weighing the options

So yet again we are not in Singapore getting our visas and for once that isn't a bad thing. Our current visa expires tomorrow, we renewed last week and then got word that it will probably come next week. Meaning the 75$ we were spending for the renewal would be unnecessary. Well it hasn't come through yet to our knowledge which is making me feel smart for having gotten the renewal. So much better than feeling silly for wasting 75$.

This week I went to an education fair for some of the school's in the city. We've been looking at a preschool to put @ into which sounds simple but becomes this whole thing. He needs a school that can do instruction in English but also in Local Language. You would think getting English instruction would be difficult but really its the other way around. Mummy's and Daddy's here want there kids going to English schools that teach exclusively in English. So schools understand how to make money and that is what they offer, english only instruction and sometimes discipline for students caught using local language (this is a growl for another post). Now the quality of that english is questionable but really that isn't a big deal for me, @ gets the quality at home. I just want him to be able to understand the directions and learn while he's getting his legs at the local language. I found an option or two and I think the academics of the thing look ok but still the commitment to it is a big deal for me. I'm not hyper concerned about academics, its not like Jonathan and I are going to check out of parenting soI feel ok about his growth in that area.

Its the initial start of @ adjusting to the kids and the social atmosphere. See, he's stared at alot and he's touched alot. He's 3 1/2 and everyone has to touch him, which makes him shy and want to lash out a little. So that is what I'm concerned about at school for him. When we sat down at each of the school booths, they all needed to touch him, like 6 adult women and not just a few men, all trying to touch his face and hair. This happened at each booth. Then the pictures started. We had our pictures taken I don't know how many times. So I hate sending him into that environment at school. It wears off in time but initially its bad and I feel bad for him.

That's my sigh for the day.

Using Your Power

It sounds like Oprah, doesn't it? But I've been impressed by a few things over the last few hours. I saw that Ann Curry has been up to it again. Jonathan read me some details about Steven Spielberg (who's name I can't spell) giving a little to China. So I'm feeling encouraged.
I like when people begin to realize that they too have a little power. Ann Curry, from what I've derived, visited Africa and it stuck with her and she thinks about ways she can effect that situation. Steven Spielberg thought through his power and the power of China and decided maybe I can do something. My friend Tanya works in the Sudan. She has some power and is working with teachers to help them think through the best way to get a broken country's education system back online. My sister Gretchen and her family are working on adopting a little one from Ethiopia. They're going to use their power to make one little one's life a little better and probably a little longer. My mom works everyday with kids (& families) with real problems. Some days work isn't so good, but some days her power goes straight inside some family's ear and resonates with them and their family is a little happier and a little healthier. My friend Karen saw Ann Curry (which I didn't) the other night and said to herself, "How can I use my power?"

So the question today is: How can you use your power?

@'s report book

I got @'s report book from school today. At the end of every term they are supposed to have a parent teacher conference and they give back all of his art projects from the term and his report book. Last semester they were really good about writing a weekly comment as well as marking @'s progress in logical thinking, art, character building, listening etc. They didn't make the weekly comments this term but his comment at the end of the term was very revealing as to exactly which parent he is falling into the footsteps of. My mom will especially appreciate this because I know she had to have read the same thing on all of my report cards.

"This term @ can maintain his academic scores. He can understand and memorize the material given. However, @ likes to play a lot with his friends and when the teacher remind him to pay attention, he often ignores."

Yeah, that was me in preschool and elementary. Smart enough, just not so much into attending to school work.

So tired

Last night after putting @ to bed for the 4th time, he came into our bedroom and was sick on the floor. So we cleaned him up and no sooner was he put back to bed and the room was clean, he came out and did it again. At which point I started our washing machine and took the 1 hour it takes to wash clothes. I sat down on the bed and no sooner did I lay my head down than @ came out to be sick again. That time I finally got the message and set up the extra cot on his floor for the night. That 3 inch foam mat is every bit as comfortable as it sounds. And @ talks in his sleep (this has always been a problem, even since his birth) which resulted in countless times of me sitting bolt upright to check on him only to find that he was happily sleeping. Then after the morning call to prayer, somehow my foam mat looked good to him so he came down to the floor to sleep with me. Now of course he is up with a vengenance, ready to attack his day, but only after he gets some pancakes. He thinks that pancakes are the answer to a previously sick stomach.

peanut butter lament

It seems that I've narrowed down what I'm allergic to and that seems to be peanuts. I'm not so much fond of just eating peanuts so that isn't really the problem so much as is peanut butter. I love peanut butter. Deeply, deeply, deeply love peanut butter. Its was my go to snack of choice. Little munchy, need some quick energy, peanut butter and ritz crackers. No real plans for a meal, peanut butter sandwich. Thinking of making cookies but kind of tired of chocolate chip, peanut butter cookies. Tired of the same old granola recipe, need a little change, peanut butter granola. And now you start to see the whole problem. And Sundays are the worst because generally I don't make lunch here on Sundays. I make a breakfast when we get home from church at 9:30 and then I make a good dinner in the evening. Sunday lunch is normally peanut butter crackers and apple slices.

This week Jonathan made he and @ a pb sandwich and I had cereal. The cereal didn't quite do it for me and when I went to the cabinet I was greeted with the Skippy jar. That particular skippy jar has garam masala in it but still that set my mind to thinking about lunch even more. Then the problem became that I couldn't think of an option that didn't involve pb.

Going out to Singapore in a feb and I'll do allergy tests there. Hoping to get a firm grip on what is causing so many problems. If I'm not allergic to pb, I'm going right out to the store and eating a jar just to make up for lost time. But since it seems that I am, I think that I'm going to have to think of something new as my go to food of choice.

I did think about it the other day and decided an allergy to pb is better than an allergy to coffee. I'd just have to go ahead and die if I were allergic to coffee.