Four Feet More

Vacation - the sequel

2010-08-23T10:28:00.000-07:00

Our dock on lake Tahoe

After driving home from Tucson, I was understandably very tired and not really looking forward to the Tahoe vacation I had planned with the girls for the week after we got home. They wanted to drive out at 9 pm Tuesday night, which would mean a 1 am arrival in Tahoe, and just the thought of it made my head ache. I guess I'm getting old. But, since I had agreed to this trip months ago, I decided to "take one for the team" and follow their plans. I'm glad I did, because it wound up being a very relaxing and fun getaway.

In all my 25 years of living in California, I had never really been to Tahoe before. Sure, I'd gone up for a day-trip to a ski resort, and visited briefly for my mom's wedding, but on those trips I had not actually seen Lake Tahoe, nor had I gotten a good feel for what Tahoe was like. That all changed after this mini-break. The plan was for us to stay at a lake house being rented by Jaime's step-dad, Bob. We all pictured a rustic dwelling and planned accordingly. I brought pillows and even a roll of eco-friendly toilet paper. As we got closer to the property, it began to look as if the house wouldn't be as rustic as we had assumed. We pulled into the driveway of a modest, wooden dwelling in front of which Bob was waiting for us. It was dark, so I couldn't see much of the house, but it looked serviceable enough. And I could rough it for a few days, no big deal.

It turned out that the dwelling I was looking at was actually just the garage. As we walked into the house, it quickly became apparent that the eco-friendly toilet paper I brought would not be needed. Simply put, the house was HUGE. The kitchen itself was as big as my entire living room and the back wall was made up entirely of windows overlooking the lake. The main living room was dominated by a stone fireplace two-stories high and it was off of this room that my bedroom was located. I got my own private room, complete with a sitting area and bathroom. James got her own room with bathroom and deck overlooking the lake, and Mel and Am shared a room downstairs which had their own private living room, bathroom and pool table. We all looked around the place in slack-jawed amazement. Once Bob left us alone, Jaime and I squealed like little girls, jumping up and down in excitement over our rooms. Mel and Am kept saying how this was insane, and the four of us decided that we could easily just spend our entire break holed up in the house.

The view of our house from the dock

But of course, that was not what we came to Tahoe for, so we compromised. Our mornings were spent lazing around the house, having breakfast at one of the tables located on the property and looking out at the lake. During the afternoon, we would do an activity exploring Tahoe. The first day, it was a hike to Vikingsholm, a Scandanavian-inspired property on Emerald Bay. The trail seemed easy enough, but the views of the beach soon lured us off the trail and down to the shore. We had lunch near a group of rocks and were befriended by a very bold chipmunk who actually caught in his hands a squishy grape that James threw away. This chipmunk was skilled. After lunch, we attempted to find our way back to the trail, without success - we were lost. Fortunately, we could follow the shoreline all the way to Vikingsholm. Unfortunately, the shoreline was littered with fallen trees that we had to clamber over, and a plant rehabilitation area which we unknowingly stomped through. Felling like very bad humans, we eventually make it to our destination, enjoyed the beauty of the area, and then correctly followed the trail back to our car. That night we were a bit exhausted from the exertions of the day, so we had dinner in and watched "Footloose' on the big-screen TV before heading to bed.

James, Mel, Am and I with our bikes

On our second day in Tahoe we rented bikes and rode around the lake. It was beautiful and on bike we were able to explore areas we could not get to by car. That night we headed to a casino where we watched "Artie" (Party with Artie) perform dance hits to a group of drunken girls at a bachelorette party. There was also this Swedish girl who kept walking around the dance floor with one arm raised high (as if she were saluting the casino) and the other hand holding a glass of wine. It was very strange and Artie seemed to be enjoying the show on the dance floor as much as we were.

The next day, Friday, was our last day in Tahoe. After a morning breakfast, enjoying the view of our dock and the blue waters beyond, we packed up and headed into town to see "Eat, Pray, Love" (which I didn't really like, BTW. Despite her year-long search for enlightenment, it seemed to me that Liz learned NOTHING and was was as self-absorbed in the end as she was at the beginning of the story. I didn't read the book though, so maybe I missed something). The movie was followed by an excellent dinner - we had nothing but great food in Tahoe - and the long drive home. Even though I wasn't looking forward to this trip so close on the heels of our Tucson vacation, I'm glad I went. It was a great time out with the girls and gave us all the chance to relax and explore without the normal distractions of a vacation with the kids. I definitely plan to go back, next time with Jeff and the kids, to share some of the adventures I had with the girls. I suppose our lodging will be a bit more rustic the next time around though. :)

Me, James and Mel on our deck

Vacation, Part I

2010-08-18T08:44:00.000-07:00

I'm back. Did you miss me? I've been gone for much of the month, and it feels nice to be home, settled back into our normal routines. I did have a couple of great vacations though, the first of which was a road trip to Arizona with the family.

We left early on July 30th and drove all day to Tucson, Arizona - my home town. It was a 13-hour drive, but the kids did great. It's amazing how much a portable DVD player can reduce the "are we there yet?" nonsense. We arrived in Tucson around 8pm, and met up with my mom and Ed at their time-share resort in the foothills. It is a beautiful place, and if you can ignore the solpugids that wander into your room, it's quite relaxing.

Gila Woodpecker on an ocotillo

We spent many of our mornings sitting on the porch, watching the local wildlife, which was made up mostly of birds. We were fortunate in that the first few days were cooler due to recent monsoon storms, and there were plenty of birds out. A covey of quail visited our porch daily, a mother cardinal fed her baby in a nearby Palo Verde, and Morning Doves, cactus wrens and Gila Woodpeckers perched on the ocotillo and saguaros out back. There were also occasional cottontails, trying to blend in with the desert sand, numerous lizards, and during the nighttime, a herd of javelinas that visited the grounds around our room. Vika and Eamon had a great time exploring the Sonoran Desert and trying to lure in animals for a pet or two.

Family at Midway Molina's

While watching desert wildlife was a huge part of our trip, the reason we went down to Tucson was family. Our second night in town we had dinner with the cousins at Midway Molina's - a truly great Mexican restaurant with the best cheese crisps in the world. We caught up on each others' lives, met new family members and remembered my great aunt Mary, who passed away in June. This was the first time that Vika and Eamon had met many of the family members, and fortunately, they made a good impression. It is a bit sad to see how the Arizona family has changed though. It seems that all we have left now are cousins because the older generation has all passed on, and others (including us) have moved away. The family I grew up with simply no longer exists. But the new family that is evolving in its place is pretty cool too, and hopefully Vika and Eamon will grow up with fond memories of them.

Old friends catching up

In Tucson, I also had the opportunity to visit my oldest friend, Kathy. She and I have been friends since the age of 5, and much of my childhood was spent at her house. Through Facebook, I have reconnected with other childhood friends as well, one of whom was Howard, a boy I played soccer with and who was a good friend to both me and my brother Joe. Howard goes by Jason now (I think Howard was his middle name), but despite the name change and goatee, he looks exactly the same! It was strange and cool to see him after 25 years. He, Kathy and I met up at a local park and chatted about our lives now and old times while Jeff and the kids played. Vika and Eamon loved Kathy's dog, Dookie, even though her enthusiasm sometimes resulted in them being dragged around the park. They also liked meeting these friends from my past, and we all had a fun afternoon together.

Me, my sisters, mom and Eamon

The highlight of the trip was having dinner with my sisters and their families. What? You didn't know I had sisters? Well, neither did my kids. Basically, I have three half-sisters from my dad's first marriage. I didn't really meet them until after my mom and dad split up, but once they got divorced, my sisters were over all the time. In fact, they kind of adopted my mom as a member of their family. Sadly, after my mom married her second husband and we moved to California, we didn't see the girls as often and drifted further apart. In fact, it has been 6 years since I saw them last, and they had not yet met Vika and Eamon, so this reunion was one we were all looking forward too. And it was a great time! We met up with two of my sisters, Kelly and Traci, at Kelly's house out in Marana. She lives on 5 acres, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, and has a bunch of dogs and two horses. When Vika saw them, her eyes grew wide and she could hardly contain her joy. She loves horses, but has never before been near a real one. Eamon was very excited too, and before you knew it, Kelly and her husband Jake had the kids mounted up on horseback and were leading them around the property. Both kids were in heaven, and I took about a thousand pictures during their 45-minute ride. During this time, my nephew Andy (who is in his 20's and a firefighter) taught Jeff how to use a lasso, and he later gave Eamon some lessons as well. After the ride, the kids fed the horses and we all went inside.

Vika pretending to go for a ride

All of us except Eamon and Jake, that is. Jake has a golf cart which he drives around his property, and after taking Eamon for a spin in the vehicle, he got out from behind the wheel and said, "You want to try driving this thing?" Naturally, Eamon shrilled an excited "YES!" and the driving lessons began. I was too nervous to watch, so I went inside, crossed my fingers and hoped for the best. Eamon came back a while later, safe and sound, and bubbling over with the thrill of driving his first car. Vika was slightly jealous, but was soon distracted by the many Chihuahuas around the property. Kelly does Chihuahua rescue and Vika connected to one dog in particular, a blue teacup named Willie. I actually fell for this dog too and wanted to smuggle him home in my purse, but Kelly kept too sharp an eye on him. Dang it.

The best thing about this night with my sisters, and the whole trip to Tucson really, was the relaxed feeling of not needing to be anything other than who you are. My kids were able to play around and be noisy children, and I didn't need to worry about them getting in the way or offending anybody. Things are a bit slower down there then they are in the Bay Area, and since were were on vacation, we had no major schedule to stick too. It was as if I could truly take a deep breath and relax. What a wonderful feeling. The day-trips to Mission San Xavier and Mt. Lemmon, an evening at Trail Dust Town (complete with Western stunt show and dinner at my favorite restaurant, Pinnacle Peak), and the discovery of Ethiopian food (who knew they had such a great African restaurant in Tucson?), all made the trip a memorable one.

Family at Pinnacle Peak for dinner

In front of Mission San Xavier del Bac

Excellent Feedback

2010-07-26T21:15:00.000-07:00

Thank you all for the great comments on my last post. Some of you e-mailed me privately as well, which was very helpful. Seriously readers, you RULE.

So far, the Midwest seems to have garnered the most positive comments. There are many aspects of the Midwest that I find appealing, such as the sense of community, nice outdoor recreation areas, and four actual seasons. Plus, I would be closer to my Uncle Tony and his family (who live near Chicago). The Midwest winters do concern me a bit though. I'm an Arizona girl who has lived most of her life in California - hence, my blood is pretty thin. Put me in 95 degree weather, and I'm fine. But 10 degrees? Or a temperature somewhere in the negative range? Well, it just makes me wonder how one goes about without their eyeballs freezing over (that can't really happen, can it?). However, I did survive winter in the northernmost city of Russia, and I actually even enjoyed it. So maybe the winters would be tolerable, especially when weighed against the benefits of living in the Midwest.

I've also received some positive comments about Texas, Massachusetts, New York and New Jersey. I must admit that the idea of living within an hour of New York City is a huge lure for me. I've wanted to live in or near NYC since I was about 10 years old. I love the energy of the city and the tremendous pride it's citizens take in being New Yorkers. But I'm not sure if the East Coast would be more of the same over-scheduled, stressed out families that we have here.

I'm also not sure if it would be too hard to move away from the family and friends I have living in the Bay Area. It is great having my mom and brother so close by and being able to get together for family functions. If only we could all live near each other in a more community-oriented town with better schools. *sigh* There is definitely a lot to think about. Hopefully we'll get everything figured out by the time we are ready to sell our house.

Feeling Restless

2010-07-18T07:29:00.000-07:00

I've always had a bit of a wandering spirit, but lately, my need to be somewhere else has become nearly all-consuming. We've lived in our current house for 11 years now. It was supposed to be our "starter home" where we would live for 5 years or so and then upgrade to a larger house. That was the plan, but life kind of got in the way. With the expenses related to adopting and career changes for both Jeff and myself, it seems that we've been in "survival mode" for the last 5 years. I'm ready to move on.

Our hometown is not what it was when I moved here nearly 25 years ago. The population has changed so much, and many of the people I went to school with have moved away. Our neighborhood has become increasingly transient, with families moving to the area so their kids can attend the elementary school (a California Distinguished School), and then moving away when their kids hit 6th grade. At that time, they relocate to the area where my high school is. While it was a decent school when I attended in the early 90's, it is now one of the top 50 high schools in the nation, and families flock to the homes surrounding it, even if they cost $900K for a 4 bedroom fixer-upper.

The result of all this moving around and total focus on academics is a community that is highly fractured. The students at Vika and Eamon's school aren't really the type to hang out and play after school. So many of them do homework (and extra homework provided by their parents) before attending piano lessons or badminton practice. They are over-scheduled and in many cases secluded from simple childhood pleasures. One day after Spring Break Vika told me how she mentioned to a friend that she and Eamon had climbed trees and gone puddle jumping during their vacation, and her friend had no idea what she was talking about. She was not allowed to climb trees or jump in puddles, and had never even been on a picnic! Eamon said no one else in his class had ever climbed a tree either. It made me kind of sad. When I asked what their friends did for fun, both Vika and Eamon said they played video games in their room.

It's also quite depressing in our neighborhood during the holidays. On Halloween, we drive to my mom's neighborhood, the next town over, so that Vika and Eamon can experience Trick-or-Treating. When we used to stay here, all the neighbors' lights were out and only one or two groups of teenagers would stop by for candy. During Christmas, only 2 or 3 houses on our street are decorated with lights. I realize a lot of this is due to the fact that many of our neighbors are recent immigrants from Asia and the Middle East. They don't celebrate the same holidays that we do. Unfortunately, since most of the families plan on moving away when their kids enter Jr. High, they don't really invest any time in the community either.

Adding to this lack of neighborly feeling is the daily irritation provided by our next-door-neighbors. To the right we have the incessant-honking-car-alarm-family, who nearly burned their house down but refused to call the fire department for help. To the left we have Pat, one of the few neighbors who has been here longer than us. She lives with her daughter, Andrea, and Andrea's kids Alyssa and Evan. Andrea had Alyssa when she was 15 and has been in jail numerous times for drug and theft convictions. In fact, Evan was born during her last stay in jail - he's now 5 years old. Despite all this, Pat and Andrea are actually nice people, and I know that they would help out our family if ever we needed it. About 6 years ago, when Andrea was still on drugs and had all kinds of strange people hanging around the house, I heard her tell this rough looking guy who was staring me down to "Stop it. They're good to Alyssa. They're alright." And we've never had a problem with any of her friends. However, now Alyssa is 17 and beginning to repeat her mother's mistakes. She has all kinds of sketchy-looking people hanging out in the garage at all hours of the day and night, smoking pot and drinking beer. Among other things, I'm sure. Every night between midnight and 3:30 am, there is yelling in front of the house, and the front door slams constantly. We've talked to Pat and Andrea about it, and the homeowner's association has received other complaints as well. But nothing really changes. So we need to change. It's time to really make moving someplace new a priority.

California is kind of in the toilet, unfortunately. And honestly, even though I've lived here for 25 years, I've never really felt that this is my home. The fact that my teaching job is cut every year and the public school situation is so unstable makes California even less desirable. So Jeff and I are looking to possibly move out of the state, hopefully in the next couple of years. Someplace where the education system is good and housing prices are more reasonable. We are still considering international teaching, but since I don't have a job for next year, I'm not sure if I will be as marketable a candidate for any open positions. We are also seriously looking at the East Coast and parts of the Midwest. It would be a huge change from California, and we would miss our family and friends, but it could be just the kind of change we need.

Does anyone have any suggestions for areas that are family-friendly, with good schools and a nice sense of community? Places where you can see fireworks and maybe even a parade on the 4th of July? Communities where people know their neighbors and occasionally even lend them a cup of sugar? Please, any input is welcome!

Happy Birthday Dear Vika

2010-07-14T05:11:00.000-07:00

Dear Vika,

Today you turn nine years old. This birthday officially marks your entry into tweenhood (God help us). But those of us who know you personally know that you've been a pre-teen since the age of 4! Don’t worry. We all think your mature attitude is part of your charm. When it’s not driving us crazy.

Anyway, I know you wanted a pair of high-heels for your birthday, and I almost bought them for you. Really, I did. But then I thought about how fast you’re growing up, and how you used your allowance to buy that extremely bright red lipstick and pale blue eye-shadow, and I decided against it. I just wanted to put off your years of dressing inappropriately a little while longer. I’m sure you’ll make me pay for this when you’re a teenager, but for now I am relishing the fact that you still defer to my judgment on the matter of clothing and shoes. However for you, I may wear my new pair of stilettos and dress like a girl for your birthday dinner outing. You’ll just need to give me a few more lessons on how to walk properly in heels first. It must be that Russian glamour gene, because you’ve been an expert at walking in high heels since toddler-hood. You’d even give Suri Cruise a run for her money!

It’s been fun watching you grow from preschool age to preteen. You’ve changed in so many ways, but some parts of you are still quintessentially Vika. The way you purse your bottom lip when you are displeased about something. The graceful way you move your hands when talking (not at all in the frantic Italian way of my family), and the superior look you lay on us when making a point you just know you are right about. You can be stubborn as a mule, and your selective-hearing is maddening. But you also have a generous heart and are the first one to think of making a card for someone to brighten their day. You’re a born nurturer, taking care of your toddler cousin with patience and gentleness, even when he’s cranky. Yet if your brother so much as looks at you, your hackles go up and you loudly tell him to “STOP!” A study in contradictions - that’s our girl.

Despite the tiny hole left in your heart by the loss of your Russian family, you are filled with love and embrace your relationships with family and friends. It’s been a bit of a rough ride, and I know that sometimes you still feel insecure about your place in the world. But these moments of sadness pass quickly and you pick yourself up, ready to face the next challenge. You truly enjoy experiencing new things in life. Your earlier trouble with reading is all but forgotten as you speed through books written for kids older than you. It amuses me to see you reading encyclopedias as well – this is something I did as a child, and Babushka often teased me for it. Perhaps you could bring an encyclopedia to her house to read next time you’re over there? It would be nice for her to see that I’ve “passed the torch,” so to speak.

Even though you think you’re really cool, we see evidence of your dorkiness on a daily basis. When you look at us with those big brown eyes, mouth clamped shut and eyebrows raised to your hairline, dancing some crazy jig, the illusion of coolness flies right out the window. But actually, the way you relish your dorkiness almost makes you cooler. You probably won’t believe me about this until you’re 25, but it’s true. I hope you always stay comfortable in your own skin.

You’ve got years head of you to figure that all out though. For now, I am going to enjoy this time when you still think Mama and Papa are the holders of infinite wisdom and that time with us is the ultimate reward. Because time with you is pretty rewarding for us too.

Happy birthday, kiddo. Here’s to your best year yet.

Shaggy Do

2010-07-03T21:27:00.000-07:00

The boy won't let me cut his hair. Every time I say, "Eamon, how about we give you a little trim?" he replies, "No thanks. I kinda like my hair like this."

He thinks it makes him look like a Jedi.

I think perhaps I should catch him during one of his sleepwalking episodes and cut his hair then. What do you think?

School's Out For Summer!

2010-06-27T09:05:00.000-07:00

School's been out for a week now, and today is the first day I've been able to really relax. For some asinine reason, I thought it would be a good idea to schedule 3 dental and one doctor's appointment during my first week off of school. What was I thinking? Well, one cavity, 2 extractions and one vaccination later, I'm finally able to have a bit of time to myself. And it is desperately needed.

The last week of kindergarten was frantic, to say the least. There was no wind-down. Instead, we had an event every. single. day. The kids seemed to enjoy it, but the parents were just as exhausted as I was! My partner and I took our 50 kindergartners to the Monterey Bay Aquarium for a field trip to wrap up our "By the Sea" unit of study. It was a LONG day, but a fun one. Most of the kids' parents went along, but a few didn't. I spent the day with my little Spanish-speaking student, Rosa. This child spoke no English at the beginning of the year, but during the field trip, she prattled on endlessly about what she liked and what she wanted to see more of. I was so proud of her! She also rolled her eyes at me when I wanted to visit the Sea Dragons again (see the picture of the weedy sea dragon below- these things were COOL). It's amazing how much this child has grown in one year. That, more than anything else, made me feel that I made a difference in kindergarten. It was hard to say goodbye to all the kidlets, but hopefully I'll see them around in years to come as I substitute teach (or, maybe even return to my school full-time!).

Photo credit: Digidiver.net

Which brings me to my job situation. Unfortunately, for now, things look bleak. I've been told by both the school district and the union that if we're lucky, they may be able to bring back up to number 25 on the re-hire list. I am number 55. *sigh* It's frustrating that how well you teach and work with students and colleagues is completely irrelevant in the re-hire process. It is all about your number on the list. It is what it is, I guess, but I'm still annoyed by the situation. In the meantime, I've sent my resume to a few places and am hoping to hear back from them in the coming weeks. Fingers crossed, I will get a job that still allows me to be home with the kids during school breaks.

On the home-front, things are going better now that school is out. May and much of June were not fun, but I don't know if it's fair to blame that on the transition of school ending, or if other factors were at play. I do know that I am partly at fault for the break-down in communication with Vika and Eamon. I have become too comfortable using the word "no." Sometimes I don't even really need to deny the kids whatever it is they're asking for, but because I am tired/frustrated/angry, I do. Actually, it was another blogger, Susan, who made me aware of this (although she doesn't know it). Oh her Facebook, she posted a picture of a sign that said "YES" with stars and happy faces all around it. Apparently, in her house they had declared a "Day of Yes" to improve communication and cooperation. One commenter said that when they have done similar experiments in their house, people seem to interact much more positively. So I decided to become a "Yes Man." When Vika asked if she could watch TV, I replied, "Sure you can! Come down as soon as your done cleaning your room." Eamon asked if he could eat one of his popsicles for lunch and I replied, "Yes, you can eat one after you're done with your sandwich." It's all about giving control to the kids in a controlled way (if that makes sense). The experiment yesterday seemed to produce far fewer arguments, so I'm going to keep trying it to see if I can train myself to take the same positive approach at home that I use with my students at school. I may let my kids in on the experiment too, to have them become "Yes Men." We'll see. I'm afraid that could backfire, but maybe I'll be pleasantly surprised.

Now I'm off to watch England play Germany in the World Cup (now that the USA is out I'm not sure who too root for. Why couldn't they put something together ion the FIRST half of the game???).

Hello my little, neglected blog

2010-05-22T13:13:00.000-07:00

Time to wipe off the dust and sweep away the cobwebs hanging around Four Feet More. I've wanted to post oh so many times in recent weeks, but life keeps getting in the way.

A constant distraction is my little student (we'll call her Jane), who I believe has Oppositional Defiant Disorder. I've begun playing a covert game of "opposites" with her, just to get through the day. If I want her to stand I'll say, "Jane, can you please sit over there? Thanks!" Then she'll come and stand by me. If I want her to sit, I'll say, "Jane, I need you to stand over here. Please do NOT sit in that chair." Then she'll go and sit in the chair, looking quite smug about defying me. This of course sends the rest of the kindergartners into a tizzy, "Mrs. ____! Jane is sitting in the chair!" I just sigh and say, "Jane's going to do what she wants, I guess." So far, this game has been working, but it's a bit tedious and exhausting. And I'm not sure if it will last through the end of the school year. Fingers crossed, it will, and hopefully next year's teacher will have more success curbing her ODD than I. We've got just 18 days left until Summer Break - I think I can make it!

About next year... I've been told by both my principal and the union that because there are so many surplussed tenured teachers (due to education budget cuts), the chances of temporary (non-tenured) teachers getting hired back next year is, "slim-to-none." Here we go again. Another summer of uncertainty and that unsettling feeling of "will we make it financially?" Part of me is looking forward to being laid off though. I can maybe do substitute teaching, and help Jeff with his real estate business. Or perhaps I'll homeschool Eamon (Vika would not be a good homeschooling candidate, for a variety of reasons). With the increased class sizes, no prep time, and 10% pay cut teachers in my district are facing next year, it might be a good time to sub. Maybe by the Fall of 2011, the state of California will open it's eyes and start making education more of a funding priority.

On the homefront, May has been a bit unsettled too. Perhaps because of the stress I'm dealing with at work, I don't have the patience to deal with the stresses at home. Jeff and I have been very conscious of our reactions and trying to remain calm, but the kids definitely do test us. One such moment came last weekend. Eamon's PTSD was in full swing and he was in a rage about something so minor, that now I don't even remember what it was. The rage took on a scary form though, kind of like those we saw during our first months home with the kids. I actually had to do holding time with Eames, something we haven't done in years. For those of you not experienced with therapeutic parenting, "holding time" is essentially when a parent holds a child through their rages, both to keep them and the people around them safe, but also to show them that even when their behavior is at it's ugliest, we are still there, helping them through it and loving them. And Eamon's rage was ugly. He was screaming at me, yelling hurtful things and trying to hit me. It was almost as if I was exorcising a demon. You have to know Eamon to understand how bad this was. He is such a sweet, affectionate child who would give up his favorite toy if it would make someone happy. He is constantly telling me he loves me and saying "Cheek!" - my signal to give him my cheek to kiss and then kiss his cheek in return. For him to act like this, something had to be really wrong. The frustrating thing is, I have no idea what it was! He has no idea what was causing him to behave that way either. It's a problem with no clear source and no clear fix. So, I held him through his rage, breathing calmly, telling him I loved him in a soft voice and encouraging him to calm down. Which he eventually did do. Then I got up, went into my bedroom and cried.

I was so drained, both physically and emotionally, and it was incredibly painful to see my son acting that way. While I was hiding, Eamon burst into the bedroom, perhaps ready to initiate another fight. But then he saw me crying, and his little body just deflated. He sat down beside me, kissed my head and began rubbing my back. I hugged him and then asked if I could have some time alone to collect myself. He said yes, and left the room. About 5 minutes later, there was a knock on the door and Eamon came in carrying the drawing below. I asked him what it showed and he said, "That's you, Mama, being calm and showing love, and that's me being angry. But you're still holding my hand." On the back of the paper was written in big green letters, "I am sory mama."

Poor guy. I didn't mean to make him feel guilty, which is why I went into the bedroom to cry. But he saw me and felt guilty anyway. However, since that day, it seems that Eamon and I have come to a bit of an understanding. We're almost back to the relationship we had before he started school, and he seems much happier this week than he's been in months. So, while this incident was one of the worst ever, I think it was good that it happened. Hopefully we'll soon get to the bottom of what's been eating at the boy so that we can deal with the problem and move forward.

On a positive note, Vika's progress report from school came back with outstanding marks! She has struggled a bit academically, so it was wonderful to see her success. She even received and A+ on a science test (an especially impressive achievement to her science-challenged mama)! The girl's been devouring chapter books and really seems to be coming into her own academically. In a month of "steps back," this was a very satisfying "step forward." Go Vika!

So, there is it. My month so far in a rather large nutshell. Hopefully once school gets out I'll be a more regular blog poster and reader. Thank goodness for Facebook, or I'd be out of the loop entirely!

A Deserving Child

2010-05-04T15:18:00.000-07:00

Many of you have seen the news that Sandra Bullock adopted an African American baby boy, and is going to proceed with the adoption as a single mother. To this I say, "You GO girl!" However, from other people I am hearing far different words. Words like, "Why did she adopt an African American child instead of a white one?"

This is a bit of a sore spot with me, and I'll tell you why. When we adopted our kids, I was asked on more than one occasion why I chose to adopt from Russia instead of adopting an American child in need of a home. While I know this is slightly different from Bullock's case, it is similar in that other people cast judgment on the children that we chose to adopt. It shows an ignorance about adoption that I thought I would take a moment to address here.

When I was asked why we adopted from Russia instead of America I always responded that we felt the international adoption process better suited our needs. We would not have to wait to be chosen by a birthmother to adopt her child, and once the adoption was final, it would be FINAL. In California, a birthmother can change her mind and take back her child up to 90 days after the adoption. Then there was the sticky case where a birthfather didn't realize he had a child until the boy, which had been adopted by another family, was around 10 years old (the particulars of the case escape me at the moment). Because he was the biological father and had not given his consent to the adoption, he had the right to take back that child. These were risks that our family simply didn't want to take.

Those are reasons I usually site when asked why we didn't adopt from America. However, this is how I really want to answer: A child in need of a family is a child in need of a family. Period. It doesn't matter where that child is from, they are still entitled to a loving home.

I feel the same way about the comments made regarding the transracial nature of Bullock's adoption. Is her son any less deserving of a loving mother because he is African American? It may be true that culturally and emotionally, it would be better for him to be placed in an African American family. He might feel more secure because his skin is not a different color from his family members, and he may feel a greater connection to the African American community. However, the sad reality is, there are many more African American children in need of homes than there are African American families waiting to adopt them.

The same is true of Russia. There are hundreds of thousands of children in orphanages across the country, but adoption by Russian families is still relatively uncommon. This trend has changed in recent years, when The Russian government began offering financial incentives to Russian families to adopt, but the fact remains that the majority of children in Russian orphanages will not be adopted.

Another reality is that the majority of children available for domestic adoption are not the white, newborn babies that many people think of when they begin considering adoption. They are older children in the foster care system. They are babies born to incarcerated or drug addicted mothers. They are biracial children and sibling groups. Don't beleive me? Go here and check out the photo listings for your state.

Now, I'm not saying that children on the photo listings are not entitled to a loving family, because I firmly believe that they are. My point is that adoption is not about bringing the youngest, most-like-you child you can find into your family. It is about bringing a child to LOVE into your family. And all children deserve to be loved, whether they are African American or white, babies or pre-teens, Russian, Chinese, Ethiopian, or born right here in the U.S. of A. The race, age and nationality of a child are irrelevant in that child's right to a loving family.

For those of you out there who have not added to your family through adoption, please remember that it is not all like the movie "Juno" (which I loved, BTW). The faces of adopted children are as varied and diverse as the families who adopt them. And that is a beautiful thing.

As a side note to Sandra Bullock, when someone says to you, "Wow. Your child is so dark. Does (he) look like (his) father?" You can respond as I did when presented with this question about Vika a while back: "Nope (he) looks like (his) mother!" It's fun to see the confusion wash over peoples faces. ;)

Can you Tell I'm a Teacher?

2010-04-26T06:32:00.000-07:00

Eamon's in a contradict-everything-I-say-in-a-high-pitched-voice phase, and it's extremely tedious. During one loud episode, during which I childishly held up a "What do we want? COOPERATION! When do we want it? NOW!" strike sign, Eamon yelled, "What do you mean by cooperation???!!!"

Ah, yes. I guess it would be a good idea to clarify that, wouldn't it?

The teacher in me took over and I grabbed a piece of chart paper to begin my mini-lesson on cooperation. At the top I wrote, "COOPERATION" and underlined it. Below that I made two columns, one headed with a drawing of an eye an the words "Looks like" and the other with a drawing of an ear and the words "Sounds like." As an afterthought, I inserted the word "Family" before the "Cooperation" title. This chart is a trick I learned in my GLAD training, an I do it every year with my students. I'm not sure why I didn't think to do it with my kids. Chart prepared, the four of us sat around the table and began brainstorming what cooperation in a family looks like and sounds like. These are the things we came up with: using kind words, asking "How can I help?," teamwork, and encouraging each other. Another interesting idea that came up, which wouldn't have occurred to me, is "Walking together." When we are out in public, Vika generally walks far behind us and Eamon walks far ahead. The kids and Jeff noted that when we all walk together, we are cooperating and being more of a family.

It was a good lesson, and I think the kids have a better understanding what we mean by cooperation in a family. I've spotted both kids standing in front of the chart (which we've hung by the kitchen), reading over the bullet points on their own. We are also able to refer to the chart when someone needs a reminder about cooperation. This worked against me the other day, when I was feeling irritable and Vika pointed to the chart with the reminder, "Is that a kind voice, Mama?" Oh brother.

Things have been a little tough here lately, and it seems that Jeff and I are making far more negative comments to our kids than positive. It must be a burden on their self-esteem, so we took a step back and did another activity to remind everyone of the good things we see in each other. I took some photos of the kids' faces and put them in the middle of a square piece of paper. One page was for Eamon and the other was for Vika. Around their picture, we wrote the good qualities and things we love about each child. Eamon's page says things like: loving, caring, funny, affectionate. Vika's says words like: determined, helpful, adventurous and loving. The kids ate this activity up. It was good for them to hear the things we love about them, and to remind them that despite the rough patch we're going through, they are great kids and we feel lucky to have them in our lives. These pages have an added benefit for Jeff and I as well. When the kids are driving us nuts and we're reaching our breaking point, we can look at the page and remind ourselves of the good things about each child. It kind of helps put things in perspective and helps us focus on the child as a whole, not just the bad behavior he or she is currently displaying.

The kids' pages.

Eamon reading his "What I like about you" page.

Getting my Knitting Mojo Back

2010-04-20T17:50:00.000-07:00

I knit a lot this Fall. I may have only completed two projects, but they were pretty big projects - two sweaters that I absolutely love and wear all the time. However, that last cardigan kind of did me in. After it was completed, I simply lost the desire to knit. I thought about knitting something else, but my heart wasn't really in it.

During the Winter Olympics, I began to feel inspired to knit again. Team USA's Opening Ceremony hat was awesome, but since Spring was approaching, it seemed a bit to wintery of a project to begin that late in the season. I also absolutely loved Team Sweden's crocheted hat, and really wanted to make on for my friend J9's new baby (J9 lived in Sweden for a while, so I thought she would dig it). Only problem is, I don't know how to crochet. I tried several times, but it didn't work out so well. It's like I have a crocheting mental block or something. A friend finally gave me a tutorial, and while I think I could now crochet a fairly decent scarf, the Sweden hat is still beyond my capabilities.

So I set aside my yarn and needles for a while and took a hiatus. I've enjoyed watching TV without counting rows and doing nerdy things in my free time like working on puzzles. But there is one pattern that has been on my mind since the fall - the Slanting Gretel Tee. Last week, my fingers began to itch for the knitting needles again. I also got the new Knit Picks catalogue in the mail, and wouldn't you know it, there was the perfect yarn in the exact color I was thinking of for the Slanting Gretel Tee. It was a sign! I ordered the yarn and it came in the mail today. Perfect. Now I can begin a new project while watching "The Power of Madonna" episode of Glee! Sounds like the perfect evening.

More Eamonisms

2010-04-17T12:57:00.000-07:00

Really, these little Eamonisms come out on a daily basis. The kid cracks me up with his earnestly delivered observations on life. You may need to know my son personally to fully appreciate these quotes, but since this is my blog, I'm posting them anyway!

Commenting on my brother Joe's "goatee" (I use the term loosely since it is really more of a scraggly patch of hair on his chin and lip) at Easter: "Joe-Monkey (the kids' name for my brother), I think you should get rid of that beard thing." Joe: "Why, you don't like it?" Eamon: "No. I can't tell if you're the real Joe-Monkey under there!"

Said when his cousin jumped between us while we were playing catch: "Hey! Let's play 'Middle in the Monkey!'"

When eating a good dinner last night: "This meal is stantabulous! I mean, it's scrumtilicious!"

Being susceptible to advertising: "On the radio this man said this month, since it is Spring.... wait a minute. When's Spring again? April? He said that we need to get pork chops! Because he likes to grill outside in Spring, and right now we can get them for $1.99... (dramatic pause)...a pound!" (said with eyebrows raised and a dramatic flourish of his hand.

Said when tucking him in at night: "Mama, if your house burns down and you're lost with no place to go, you can sleep over at my house. But I just wonder how I’m going to get the money (for a house). I’m not used to doing real work!"

Reprehensible

2010-04-14T07:17:00.000-07:00

By now, I'm sure many of you have heard about the Tennessee woman who sent her adopted son, Artyem, alone on a plane back to Russia. As a parent of two children adopted from Russia, I feel compelled to comment on the situation. From the title of this post, you can probably tell how I feel about this woman's actions. For those of you who have not adopted children from traumatic backgrounds, there are some important things, which I believe the media is missing, that you need to understand.

First of all, many (if not all) of the children living in orphanages in Russia have experienced abandonment from the people on whom they most depended. In my kids' case, it was their Russian Mama. Some, like Eamon, were only abandoned once and at a very young age. Others, like Vika, were taken back and abandoned by their parent multiple times before finally being placed for adoption (for clarification purposes, Vika and Eamon have the same Russian Mama, but their experiences with her were very different). When a child loses the care of a parent at a very young age, it can cause them to become distrustful of adults and learn that there is nobody on whom they can depend except themselves. This lesson serves them well in an orphanage setting; however, it doesn't work so well when they join a family. If you add neglect and abuse by caregivers into the mix, you wind up with a very confused child who is distrustful of any adult who tries to take care of him or her.

In Russia, there are many, many orphanages, and they are very crowded. The last estimate I read was that there are over 700,000 children living in Russian orphanages today. These kids are regarded as second-class citizens and many Russians believe there is something wrong with them (either something that made their birth-parents not want them or "bad blood" passed on from irresponsible parents). There are not a lot of Russian families vying to adopt these children. In fact, once they leave the Baby Home and move into a Child's Home (around the age of 3 or 4), their chances of being placed in a loving family drop dramatically. In an orphanage, the children live with multiple caregivers who are inconsistent, both in their presence and they way they relate to the children. My kids have told me stories of being hit with shoes and being locked in dark closets as punishment. And I believe they were at one of the better orphanages in Russia.

Kids who are adopted often have a hard time adjusting, especially if they are adopted by a family from another country. When we brought our kids home, they had to leave everything they knew behind. They flew for hours in a plane to a far away place with strangers who spoke a language they did not understand (we were only allowed to visit them 4 times before the adoption was finalized). Things sounded and smelled different, the food was different, and they no longer had a bunch of children around them all the time (I've heard the experience described as "being abducted by aliens"). They had to adjust to all these changes, in addition to learning how to be part of a family.

I'm sure it was the same for Artyem. He was even older when he was adopted, and we don't know what kind of situation he lived in with his birth family or how he was treated at the orphanage. What is clear is that he had difficulty attaching to his new mom. He'd only been home for 6 months, and attachment can take a year or longer to occur. Plus, it seems that his adoptive mother did not ask for help from either her agency or social worker. She had not taken him in for counseling, and as of January, she reported that everything was fine. I find myself confused at how all this could happen. Did the boy say he was going to kill her? Maybe. Heck, Eamon has said that to me when he's angry! Did he play with matches and threaten to burn down the house? Maybe. My kids have done and said some pretty scary things too. Was this mother educated about the many ways attachment disorder can manifest itself, and was she prepared to deal with those issues? Certainly not.

There are support groups out there for people who have adopted older children who come from traumatic backgrounds. There are groups specifically designed for people who adopt from Russia and Eastern Europe. There are plenty of places to seek advice and counseling. It seems to me that this "mother" gave up on her son too quickly. I'm not sure what her expectations were, but I've heard many pre-adoptive parents talk about how they just know they will instantly connect with their child and that there will be love between them from the first meeting. They have this fairy tale idea of what it will be like to bring this child into their new home, and many even think the child will be grateful to be adopted by them. I always cringe when I hear such statements because I know that the prospective parent is most likely in for a huge disappointment. They are not thinking about this adoption from their future child's perspective and are not considering how what was done to the child in the past will affect how he/she views their future.

Torry Hansen clearly did not have reasonable expectations for her child, or for herself as a mother. Would she have treated a biological child so callously? The fact that she would send a 7 year old child alone on a plane, with him most likely not knowing what would happen when he arrived back in Russia is horrendous. I can't imagine how scared he must have been or what was going through his head. I can't understand why she didn't seek to disrupt the adoption in America and try to have him placed in a family better prepared to deal with his needs. It's almost as if she viewed him as damaged goods and wanted to return him to the store! Her actions only added to the abuse, neglect and abandonment that Artyem has already suffered in his short life. And she made his attachment to a future family even more difficult. I hope Torry Hansen is prosecuted to the full extent of the law and that her planned adoption from the Republic of Georgia (yes, she was planning to adopt another child!) is dropped as quickly as she dropped her responsibilities towards her son.

What I did over my Spring Break

2010-04-12T07:20:00.000-07:00

Remember these stupid essays you had to write whenever you returned to school from a vacation? I hope Vika and Eamon aren't given this assignment, because their essays would be very boring reading. Poor kids. They were cooped up inside practically all week while Jeff and I worked on redecorating our bedroom (a project that was supposed to take one day, two tops, but wound up stretching through the entire week and beyond. It's still not done).

It all started with our old duvet cover and shams. Jeff is one of those people who, when he buys something, he really wants to get the most out of it. Which is why he still drives a 1991 Honda Civic. But I digress.... He bought this duvet cover the year before we started dating, making it 15 years old. It was kind of this funky, Middle Eastern style of print, and I always liked it. But the thing was OLD. The shams started tearing about a year ago, to the point where I could not sew them back together. Finally, I convinced Jeff that it was time to buy a new duvet and sham set. We found a great one on Amazon, and with our Amazon Prime shipping (thanks mom!) we got it in two days. Love that.

However, the duvet did not match anything in our room. Nothing really matched in our room. It was a mish-mosh of things we'd each had since before we knew each other, and random art work that followed no particular theme whatsoever. In fact, the room was a bit anxiety-provoking, and whenever company was over, we would close the door so no one would see the mess of a hovel in which we slept.

Well, that was all about to change. We painted the walls a nice, neutral khaki color that went well with our new duvet. Then we repainted the bed (it is a bed we inherited, which we actually love, but had been painted when we got it, so now must be either repainted to match the room or completely stripped down to the wood - a project much more daunting than either of us wanted to tackle at this time). Since we didn't have the funding to buy all new bedroom furniture, we decided to tie our existing furniture in to the new decor with accent pieces that pulled out the color in the furniture and the darker brown on the room fixtures and duvet. The duvet is kind of a tropical print in dark brown and sea-blue that reminds me of this travel show I saw on Bali. So, we decided to decorate the room with pieces from Indonesia and South East Asia. It was a great excuse to shop at Cost Plus and Pier One! I also found some images of Bali and Thailand and printed them out in black and white to hang on the walls in black frames with white mats. The room is coming together pretty nicely, if I do say so myself.

Now, we just need to finish the closet doors (they are original from when our house was built in the 70's and are much in need of updating). We're recovering the off-white contact paper that covered the doors with a grass-mat pattern which ties in nicely to the room.

Unfortunately, we did not take any before pictures of the room to show you a comparison of how it has changed. The room was just too awful before, I couldn't bring myself to document it. Here are a few "after" pictures I shot, even though we're not done redecorating.

Here's the new bedspread and the wall hanging we bought. not sure what to put on either side of it yet, but hopefully we'll find something.

The new wall above my bookcases. My favorite thing is the elephant teapot, which probably shouldn't be in a bedroom, but I love it! Also, notice the picture of the Buddha face up above? I took that on the Jungle Cruise at Disneyworld. :)

Despite being cooped up in the house all week, the kids did surprisingly well. There were a few rough patches, to be sure. But for the most part, it was smooth sailing. They hung out in our room with us, Vika reading and Eamon tinkering (with legos, transformers, Hotweels, etc.), and in the evening we watched movies to unwind. It was kind of like a week-long "time-in" for them, and may have been just what we all needed. Hopefully now that Spring Break is over and we have to get back to our regular school day routine, things won't start getting crazy again. And hopefully we'll get this dang room done before Summer Vacation!

Beach Therapy

2010-04-02T08:30:00.000-07:00

As you know, things have been a bit rough here lately. With the weather getting a bit nicer, Jeff and I decided to take the kids to the beach for the day. We haven't been in a while, and it was a much needed break.

We started out early, tired but excited. Jeff packed his fishing gear, the kids brought some "beach toys" (including 4 lightsabers - a sand hill at the beach looks like something out of Tatooine), and I brought my knitting and a book. We hit the rocky side of the beach first, where Jeff imagined himself catching a cabezon, eel or some other tasty fish to cook up for dinner that night. He was not very successful. But the kids and I were! Not 5 minutes on the beach, Vika spotted a red starfish laying among the gravely rocks, just outside of the shore line. At first we thought it was dead (things washed up on the beach generally are), but nope, it was still alive. After taking a few pictures, Vika decided to "rescue" the starfish by gently placing it in a tidepool with direct access to the ocean. There it sat, doing whatever it is that starfish do, for the next 4 hours.

In the tidepools we also found several small hermit crabs, some of which would come out and walk on our hands. The bigger ones, older and more wise, lived up to the name of "hermit" and refused to come out and play. Eamon soon became bored with the hermit crabs and went off to climb the cliff walls framing the beach. At one point I saw him scaling a nearly vertical wall, looking for his next foothold about 20 feet up. "Eamon!" I shouted, "You're not Bear Grylls! Come down from there before you fall and crack your head open!" Thank goodness the boy actually listened (I probably have Vika's recent head injury to thank for that), and decided to explore the tidepools and caves instead. He found a dark brown spider crab on the beach, which while still alive, probably would not be for much longer. it was kind of cute though, in an alienish sort of way.

Around noon, we moved to the sandy side of the beach for lunch and fun. Vika set to work immediately digging a big hole. She always does this at the beach, and I never knew why until this outing. Apparently, laying in the hole makes her warm. Eamon headed into the surf with a lightsaber to practice his Jedi moves. The beach wasn't very crowded, but those walking the shore were quite amused by the scrappy kid attacking waves as if they were some oncoming invasion of battle droids. And, not to brag or anything, but the boy's got some moves. If there really were battle droids attacking our beach, he totally would have vanquished them.

I snuggled up on the blanket and read a book while Jeff continued fishing. He actually caught a tiger perch later in the day, which he and Vika crammed into Eamon's beach bucket filled with seawater (we didn't bring a fish cooler - apparently Jeff's expectation of catching dinner was as low as mine). The poor thing didn't look comfortable at all. Jeff put the bucket in a hole in the sand, and much to the fish's relief, a rogue wave hit the shore not much later, washing both it and the bucket off to freedom! And, I didn't have to eat perch for dinner (bony things). It was a win-win all around.

The four of us had a great day together and were able to reconnect after the clashes of recent weeks. Spring Break is here now, so hopefully this dratted rain will go away and we'll be able to enjoy some more family outings in the week to come.

ChatterKid Guest Post

2010-03-25T19:06:00.000-07:00

Recently, Maggie of AmeriKid asked me to write a guest post on ChatterKid. You can check it out here.

While you're there, check out some of the older posts and the AmeriKid site. They've got some great information and cool toys for kids of all ages.

Pressing On

2010-03-24T19:32:00.000-07:00

Jeff and I have been working really hard to stay on track as far as discipline goes. We've been allowing our kids to make choices and deal with the consequences, without giving them countless reminders about what is the right thing to do. They know the right thing to do. We've told them often enough! But it is really hard to bite my tongue and not say anything when Vika and Eamon don't follow through on doing what we ask. I've been in the habit of giving repeated reminders and warnings, and I get frustrated when the simplest of requests is ignored.

Adding to my frustration is the fact that things are not getting better, they're getting worse. This afternoon, for example, the kids gleefully ignored their evening chores, playing loudly upstairs to make sure I knew they were not doing as I asked. A relatively minor request to put away the chess game was met with groans, name-calling and threats (all directed at me). There seems to be a lot of anger brewing in our kids right now, and it's definitely taking it's toll. As I keep my cool and do not react with a raised voice or threats, their anger seems to get worse. Logically, I know this means that the discipline is working. They are trying to get me worked up so that they can regain control of the situation. But emotionally, it's tough. I've had this knot in my chest all week, and it is hard to see a light at the end of the tunnel.

Some people might say I should just spank my kids and get it over with. But they have not seen Eamon cower in fear, hiding under his blankets and crying when Jeff raises his voice at Vika. They haven't heard the matter-of-fact way that Vika says the mamachkas (caregivers) at the orphanage used their shoes to beat kids who misbehaved. Spanking might produce short-term results, but at what cost?

And, lest any of you get the idea that we have "bad kids," I assure you that couldn't be farther from the truth. We have amazing kids! Kids who survived things in their first few years of life that would bring many adults to their knees. It's the survival techniques that brought them through those early years that we are dealing with now - many of them just don't work in a family. So, despite the feeling that we have taken two HUGE steps backwards, Jeff and I are pressing on. Hopefully we'll figure out soon what has caused this recent downward spiral in our kids' behavior so we can address that underlying issue as well. It's tough, but I believe the end results will be worth it.

March Madness

2010-03-20T08:48:00.000-07:00

It's been a bit unsettled here lately, and a lot has been going on. Chalk it up to Spring Fever, or March Madness, but I feel as if we've taken a few big steps back in our household. I haven't posted in a while, so this one's going to be long. You have been warned.

It began a few weeks ago when Vika casually mentioned at dinner that she had to turn in her Endangered Species report by Friday or else she would get a D-. This was the first time Jeff or I were even hearing about this report, so a tiny, yellow flag began to wave in my mind, encouraging me to investigate further. Vika explained that her teacher has assigned the report the day before and that she only had 3 days to finish it. By this time, the yellow flag had been replaced with a wildly flapping red one, and I knew that I was not getting the truth. Vika's teacher generally gives them weeks to complete a report, not days, so I voiced my confusion over why she changed this pattern. I offered to e-mail her teacher to find out why she wasn't giving them as much time on the report and see what we could work out. A look of panic crossed over Vika's face, and she came up with one excuse after another why I shouldn't contact her teacher. Finally, I put an end to the game and told her that I didn't think we were getting the truth and that I would like to have it now, please. It turns out that the report was overdue and that Vika had not only lied to us about it, but to her teacher as well. While helping Vika look for the report rubric in her room, I also found several incomplete homework assignments in her garbage can. It was incredibly disheartening, because I thought we had conquered this problem. Vika has had trouble with homework in the past, but she really seemed to be on it this year, and I thought those days were behind us.

Our new "I'm Sorry Steps" were put to the test when we had Vika write a letter of apology to her teacher. This consequence seemed to affect Vika more than the restriction from TV and computer (to help her better focus on her school work). She really likes her teacher and wants Mrs. M to have a good opinion of her. She asked me several times if I could just e-mail Mrs. M to explain what happened and set up a homework checking system. But I held firm, repeating that it was her school work and her responsibility, not mine. And while our trust in Vika has been pretty well eroded by this, I have to say I am proud of how she handled things with her teacher. She arranged a homework recording system that has to be initialed by both us and Mrs. M, and delivered a well-written note of apology. Vika seems to be back on track, and hopefully this time, it will stick.

Last weekend, we had another incident occur that threw me for a loop. On March 10th, Jeff had knee surgery to repair a meniscus tear. He came through it OK, but has been hobbling around like an old man ever since. The kids aren't used to seeing him like this (Jeff's very active), and I think it's made them a bit nervous. On Sunday, things got worse when I became sick. In a fit of Spring Cleaning, I had scrubbed down my shower with this new tile cleaner, and began to feel quite woozy. By lunchtime, the room was spinning and I couldn't get out of bed, I was so dizzy. We desperately needed groceries, so while I took a rest, Jeff limped off to the grocery store, leaving the kids pretty much unattended for an hour. We all know how that goes, but Vika and Eamon had assured us that they would be safe and take care of me while he was gone. When Jeff got home, I was feeling a bit less dizzy, so I made my way downstairs for a snack of Saltines and peppermint tea. Jeff and the kids joined me, and while we ate, Vika, the master of casual asides, mentioned that Eamon had peed in the litterbox and cat area.

Jeff and I looked at each other in stunned silence. I mean, really? We were having urination in the household thrown at us now, more than 4 years after bringing the kids home? Fortunately, we managed to keep our cool (most likely due to the fact that neither one of us had the energy to get angry). I looked at Eamon and said, "Wow. That's surprising. Well, no worries. You'll have plenty of time to clean up the cat area before dinner." A temper tantrum ensued - Eamon was really upset (ashamed?) that he had been caught, and let us know in no uncertain terms how "mean" we were being to him. All the drama took it's toll, and I began to feel dizzy and nauseous again. I barely made it upstairs to find that my bedroom door had been closed and locked. I laid down in front of the door, trying not to get sick again, as Jeff got the key to open it. Only the key didn't work. Eamon had tried to pick the lock with a pencil and the lead had broken off in the keyhole. At this point, Jeff's calm evaporated and a display of anger which has rarely been seen in our house ensued. Between the pain in his knee, me being so sick, Eamon's misbehavior, and Vika "stirring the pot", it was all just too much. The kids were sent to bed while I threw up and Jeff regrouped.

Let me just say at this point that ours' is not usually a dramatic household, so Sunday was definitely a wake-up call. As a parent of children with traumatic backgrounds, I find myself constantly questioning whether their behavior is typical kid stuff, or indicative of lingering issues from their time in the orphanage. How much is related to attachment or post-traumatic stress, and how much is just kids testing the limits? I'm not sure I'll ever really figure that out. This is the only reality I've ever known, and I've got to take it as it is. One thing is certain though. As things have seemed to move backwards, Jeff and I have definitely fanned the flames with our increasingly angry reactions. We've got to work to be more consistent with the Love and Logic approach, even when behaviors catch us off guard. That's the challenge we now face.

*** Update ***

After writing this post, I asked Eames, "So, what was the deal with that whole peeing in the litterbox thing again?" He replied that he and Vika were playing "cats." So, I'm feeling better that this was an instance of kids being kids, rather than a PTSD reaction to Jeff and I not being at full capacity.

In the Pink

2010-03-07T13:20:00.000-08:00

It's that time of year again. The time when school districts across California lay off teachers in an effort to save money. You may have seen something on the news last Thursday when protesters shut down a major freeway near Oakland in an effort to raise awareness of the educational crisis. I'm sure their actions raised a lot of sympathy with the commuters who were stuck in gridlocked traffic for hours as a result. *sigh* Anyway, traditionally, we get our pink slips on the "Ides of March" (March 15th for the less Shakespearean of my readers). This year they came a week early.

On Friday afternoon I received a call from the secretary asking me to meet with our principal in her office. I immediately stopped what I was doing and headed out (it's rarely a good thing to be called to the principal's office). As I was leaving my class, one of the women who works at our after school daycare, said, "Are you going to the office?" At my affirmative answer she warned, "Well watch out! Jenna's mom is down there and she's FURIOUS!" To provide a little background, Jenna (name has been changed) is an extremely bright student of mine who has the misfortune of having a mother who is less-than-pleasant, thinks of school as free daycare, and rarely gets her daughter to class on time. Oh, and she's got a major chip on her shoulder. Like a Rock-of-Gibraltar-sized-chip. But back to my story.... In alarm I asked, "What's she mad about?" Apparently Jenna had an accident (pooped) in her pants at daycare, and mom was mad that she had to take time out of her day to deal with it.

In growing dread, I walked down to the office, ready to fend off any attack this woman might throw at me. Past history has shown that she's the type of person who believes a good defense is an offense and will try to blame anyone else but herself for failures on her daughter's part.

As I approached the office, I saw my friend, T, another temporary teacher, heading there as well. She mimed something about signing papers, but I still expected a confrontation with Jenna's mom. When T explained that we were probably getting our pink slips, I felt tremendous relief! As the principal asked me to sign for my lay-off letter, I said, "Oh good! I thought I was going to have to deal with Jenna's angry mom and poop pants!" We all laughed and then T and I merrily went on our way.

That's the way things are now. We've been laid-off so much that we've become desensitized to losing our jobs! And this year is even more dire than last year was, with class sizes increasing across the board and all prep classes going away. Unless there is a huge wave of retirement (which some people think is likely), there simply won't be positions available for the laid-off teachers to fill in the Fall. It's the same old story. But after three years, it's getting less interesting.

A Lesson in Apologizing - Thank You Tiger Woods

2010-03-03T15:37:00.000-08:00

Let's face it. Tiger Woods has made some horrendous choices lately and has more than his share to apologize for. If you watched his live apology (I didn't) or read about it later (which I did), it may have been enlightening to you how he apologized. Not the exact words, per se, but the format. As if there were rules he was following when composing his mea culpa. This is what I learned from Tiger's apology:

A sincere apology must have 3 parts:

Honestly admit what you did.
Explain why it was wrong (including who it hurt and why).
Give a "plan of action" to show that what you did will not happen again.

I'm told this is classic 12-step-program procedure, but never having gone through such a program, I hadn't really thought about it before. It seems so logical though. I know when someone simply says "I'm sorry," I often don't feel that they really understood why what they did was wrong. With my kids especially, the words "I'm sorry" are more of a way to get out of a lecture or move on from a situation, rather than a sincere acknowledgment that what they did was wrong. So, we have now instituted the 3-step apology rule in our house. Vika and Eamon groan about it, but you know what? I think it has made them much more reflective about how their actions and words affect others. Hopefully this will eventually result in them thinking about potential outcomes before they act, rather than atoning for them afterward.

I know. Best of luck with that. But at this point, I'll try anything to get them past their "It's better to ask for forgiveness than permission" mindset.

In the News

2010-03-01T07:29:00.000-08:00

I had another post scheduled for today, but after reading the news this morning, I decided to bring this to your attention instead.

Generally, I try to keep politics away from this blog, but as someone who's suffered a miscarriage, this scares the bejeezus out of me!

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/01/us/01abortion.html

While I can understand a bit of what prompted such legislation, I think they are going about it all wrong. During my time working in neonatology, I saw quite few cases that horrified me. One was very much like the case mentioned here, where a pregnant, teenage couple, in an effort to abort their fetus, took a bunch of drugs and then the boyfriend kicked the girlfriend repeatedly in the stomach. Their efforts did not being about the desired results, and the baby was born prematurely, with severe problems. I'm not sure what happened to the child after she left the NICU. Were these kids wrong in their actions? Absolutely! But do they deserve life in prison because of it? I don't believe so. Instead, shouldn't we examine a system that makes some people so desperate that they feel the only way out is to endure the pain of a brutal beating, thereby causing the death of their unborn child? What social programs are in place to help these girls obtain legal abortions (which are still allowed in the Utah bill)? Or perhaps support them while they put their baby up for adoption? As Christine said (a blogger I was recently introduced to by Michelle), are there programs to financially assist these teenage girls who chose to be mothers to their babies while they finish high school and college? It just seems that there is a greater issue that is being overlooked while people focus on the act of obtaining abortions through non-medical means.

However, putting the issue of intentional abortions and social programs aside, there is something else in this bill which is even more alarming. A woman who suffers a miscarriage due to "reckless behavior" can also be punished by life in prison. The thing that scares me so much about this is, who determines what constitutes "reckless behavior?" (and I admit, I haven't seen the entire bill to read line-by-line) The examples given are drinking alcohol and driving recklessly while pregnant. But what about me? I ate at a sushi bar while pregnant. Sure, I didn't consume anything raw, but maybe some of those California Rolls touched a bit of sashimi and that resulted in my miscarriage. Is that reckless behavior? And even if it was reckless, was my intent to satisfy my craving for sushi or to harm my unborn child? I think every woman who has suffered a miscarriage ought to think about this issue very carefully. Most of you reading this blog were devastated by the loss and went on to either conceive or adopt another child. I'm sure all of us questioned what we may have done that caused us to lose our child. Many of you, like me, may have even had people tell you why you were to blame for the loss of your child (in my case, I was "too stressed" about having a healthy pregnancy). It seems that lawmakers in Utah, while they may have good intentions, are completely missing the mark with this one.

What are your thoughts? (and if any of you are tempted to leave inflammatory or disrespectful comments, I warn you in advance, they will be deleted).

Deep Thoughts, courtesy of Eamon

2010-02-27T19:42:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, Eamon gave me the journal he's been working on in school, and since I shared some of Vika's writing, I thought I'd share some highlights of Eamon's as well. For ease of reading, I won't type it verbatim because reading words that are spelled phonetically (by a first grader) can be tedious.

Oct. 12, 2009: "I can do a back flip. I can jump. I can't jump in outer space. I can't stay alive forever." (this one made me a bit sad - the boy thinks about dying way too much for one so young).
Nov. 19, 2009: "We saw a REAL rattlesnake in the science lab today. Of course, it was dead and in a jar..."
Dec. 17, 2009: "What would happen if my toy Russia Mishka became real? I would hug him and pretend he is a big monster and pretend he is a USA army person and call him Captain John William. He is the best stuffed animal..." (I wonder how he came up with "Captain John William"?)
Feb. 4, 2010: "I love the way Mama cooks. I love the recipe for hot dogs my Mama makes for me. My Mama makes a lot of food for me." (for the record, I almost NEVER cook, and I don't believe I've ever made the kids hot dogs. That's Jeff's department. I wonder if Eamon wishes I cooked more?)
Feb. 5, 2010: "I would love to go on a long journey to a far away place. I would go to Hawaii and race my sister on a camel. I really, really want to go to Hawaii." (I think he might be disappointed by the lack of camels on the islands.)

It's funny that Eamon writes much the way he talks - kind of a stream of consciousness type of thing. I can hardly wait to see what he writes in his next journal!

Vika's Poetry Corner

2010-02-20T11:43:00.000-08:00

Vika has been interested in writing for some time now. Normally her writing covers the events of her day, and sometimes will be a retelling of a story she's read before. But lately, she's been getting into writing poetry, and I have to say, I'm pleasantly surprised. My practical little girl (remember "It's George Washington, dead, in a box"?) has now become a bit more fanciful. Maybe her recent bump on the head has lead to an increase in creativity (other than a nasty scar hidden by her hair, she's all recovered, BTW)? Last night during the Olympics, Vika had a little pad that she was scrawling on in between events. Here is what she wrote:

"Imagination Is."

Imagination is not something bad.
Imagination is creation.
Imagination is your friend.
Imagination is a unicorn dancing in the air.
Imagination is not a chore.
Imagination is a simple book or two.
Imagination is music.
Imagination is in you.
Imagination is not a bully.
Imagination is three beautiful starts shining like 3,000 diamonds.
Imagination is what you dream in your sleep.
Imagination is not whether you need time for it.
Imagination is always with you.
Imagination is what everybody has.
Imagination is what people carry in little luggage in their brain.

Not too shabby, if I do say so myself. I especially like the part about the unicorn and the image of little suitcases in people's heads carrying all kinds of fanciful ideas. It's fun to hear her voice come through in her writing.

I Caved

2010-02-15T09:16:00.000-08:00

This morning, while Jeff was out on his run, I dismantled the dang Christmas tree. The kids helped me haul the pieces back into the garage, where we shoved them back into the box. It's not a pretty put-away job, but at least it's done.

Jeff's birthday was this weekend too, on Saturday. We put his gifts under the tree and his cards in the branches. It looked a bit festive, if I do say so myself.

O' Christmas Tree! O' Christmas Tree! Thy Leaves are So Unchanging

2010-02-10T06:41:00.000-08:00

Strange post title to have in February, isn't it? Well, I have a confession. Our Christmas tree is still up. Wait! Before you get all disgusted with me, let me explain. On January 2nd, I took down all the Christmas decorations while Jeff was out with some clients. I even took down the ornaments. However, tackling the 9 foot artificial tree was a job I just wasn't feeling up to doing on my own. So, when Jeff got home later that day, I asked him if he could take down the tree, and naturally, he said yes.

That was 39 days ago. And yet the tree still stands. At this point, it's become an issue of stubbornness with me. I'm interested to see just how long that tree remains in our living room, and whether or not I will cave in and take the dang thing down! This week, there was some progress, however. Jeff unplugged the tree, so it no longer clicks on at 5pm, warming us in it's cheery (if no longer seasonal) glow until 10 pm.

If I didn't hate Valentine's Day do much, I'd probably drape pink and red hearts over the tree. Perhaps I can find some of those egg ornaments for Easter?

Oops, She Did it Again

2010-01-31T08:31:00.000-08:00

As I mentioned in my previous post, I've been sick with a cold for the past week. Yesterday afternoon, I decided to take a hot shower to relieve some of the congestion in my head. Jeff was out with some clients, so during this 5-10 minute period the kids would be unsupervised. No biggie, right?

I had just put conditioner in my hair when I heard Eamon shouting outside the bathroom door, "Mama! Vika hit her head!" "What?" I asked. "Vika hit her head and there's blood on her shirt!" he replied, this time more frantically. "WHAT??!!!" I screamed now, panic setting in. "Tell her to get up here if she can!"

I quickly scrambled from the shower, threw on a robe and met Vika on the stair landing. She was holding a paper towel to the back of her head, but didn't look too bad. Until she turned around. The entire back of her tank-top was covered in blood. "Oh my God!" I said, gently parting her hair to see the damage. There was so much blood that it was hard to see, so I had her sit down and push the cloth to her head while I asked Eamon what on earth had happened.

We live in a three-level townhouse, where you can look down on the living room from the dining room. There is a rail separating the two spaces, and Eamon thought it would be fun to jump from the rail down into the living room (about 6 feet). After a successful jump and landing, he encouraged Vika to give it a try. Her jump was also successful, but the landing...not so much. Basically, she hit the couch, bounced backwards and knocked her head on the coffee table, creating a gash in the middle-back portion of her scalp.

In anger and shock I yelled, "That's why we tell you not to jump off the railing!!!!" I grabbed the phone and called Jeff. "Jeff," I said, "I need you to come home NOW. Vika cracked her head open and there's blood all down the back of her shirt." He told me to call 911 next, which I did. However, I was still in a bathrobe with conditioner in my hair, and began to freak out about paramedics coming into the house while I was practically naked. Seeing that Vika was alert and sitting quietly, I managed to pull on some clothes while on the phone with dispatch. In the meantime, Eamon, who was completely distressed by the situation, was hiding in his bed with the covers pulled over his head, whimpering that he hoped Vika didn't die. "Calm down Eamon!" I said, "Vika's going to be alright!"

Moments later, our home was flooded by firemen and paramedics, who efficiently checked out Vika while I told them what happened. They got the bleeding to stop and said that the wound wasn't as bad as it looked, but that it might need stitches (producing more whimpering from both Vika and Eamon). After some discussion, they felt it might be more stressful for Vix to go to the hospital in an ambulance, so we agreed to drive her to urgent care. They applied a bandage and ice bag to her head, and we put her in a clean shirt (couldn't have her going to urgent care all covered in blood!). Then we headed out to the hospital.

Fortunately, since it was late afternoon and urgent care was about to close, we had no wait. They got Vika in right away and cleaned her wound. After some close examination, the doctor decided that staples would be needed to hold the wound closed. Vika nearly broke my fingers, she squeezed them so hard when she heard this. But she was a trooper and about an hour later, we headed home with a girl who was all in one piece (even if it was held together by 3 staples).

After we got home, I began to notice other things about the house. Like the blood trail that went from the living room, up the first flight of stairs and through the dining room into the kitchen. In the kitchen, there was a pool of blood in front of the sink and red smeared down the cabinets. There were also large smears of blood where Eamon had clearly tried to clean up so they wouldn't get caught. I saw a bunch of blood in the downstairs bathroom as well. Apparently, after the fall (which happened very soon after I got into the shower), the kids tried to clean the wound and all the blood on their own so they wouldn't get in trouble for jumping off the railing. They must have been in a complete panic about getting caught. Upon realizing that the blood wasn't stopping and the mess was getting bigger by the moment, Eamon decided to come and get me for help. Dang kids. I was in the shower for less than 5 minutes! I really should be able to trust that they are not going to kill or maim themselves in that short amount of time. Silly Me.

This is the second time we've had to call 911 for Vika in the last 6 months. My mom joined us at Urgent Care, and when she asked Eamon what happened he replied, "Vika isn't as good of a monkey as me." In his simple way, he kind of summed it all up.

Short recap

2010-01-30T11:12:00.000-08:00

The past couple of weeks have just flown by! In between work and the kids, a few other things have occurred which are worth mentioning.

I am sick. AGAIN. Darn, germy kindergartners. The upside is that all this coughing is giving my abs one heck of a workout! The downside is that I have no creative energy at the moment, which means you get this: a bulleted list of the marginally interesting things that happened since my last post.

My nephew Tyson turned 1 year old last week! We went to his birthday party last weekend, and hoped to get a photo of him with cake all over his face. However, he just daintily dipped his fingertips into the frosting, keeping very clean and tidy, so I finally told my brother to push the piece of cake in Ty's face. Which he actually did! After a moment of stunned silence, Ty thought it was fun and began smiling through the layers of blue frosting covering his cheeks and mouth. Photos were taken all around.

I received notice of new budget cuts coming to our school district next year. Proposed cuts include 105 teaching positions (in Elementary Ed), P.E. for elementary students, the elimination of class-size reduction in all elementary classes, custodial services, etc. The list goes on and on until $35 million is cut from the budget. *sigh* Looks like it's going to be another summer of uncertainty for me.

And, to end on a high note, I finally finished my Rosamund's Cardigan! I got the pattern from Interweave Knits' Fall 2009 issue and used worsted weight yarn purchased from Knit Picks online. There are a few problem areas in the finished sweater (which probably would be eliminated if I blocked it), but overall, I'm happy with the results! Now, on to my next project (whatever that will be...).

Let's Hope She Learns This Lesson Early

2010-01-15T20:20:00.000-08:00

Vika's gotten into a bit of a scrap at school lately. Before the whole "Sassy Girls" vs. "Cool Girls" discussion, she told me a secret, which I found slightly alarming, but kept for her anyway. Well, the bag's been opened and that cat has bounced right out, thanks to a boy who likes to kiss and tell.

Here's the deal (which I can now share): Vika kissed a boy at school. A 10 year old boy, who for some reason, is still in 3rd grade. She told me about this not long after, and while I didn't scold her, I did express my concern that the boy (let's call him Cassanova) would spread the tale, and then she would be known as "the girl who kisses boys." Of course, Cassanova did not keep the secret and told all his friends. There was some chanting of "Vika and Cassanova, sittin' in a tree...." and I told Vika that she may be hearing from her teacher when she finds out what is going on.

Well, she found out today. Mrs. M called Vika and Cassanova into her classroom and said that while they weren't in trouble, they were lucky to be in 3rd grade. If they were in 4th grade or older, the police might be called about something like this (???!!!). I hope Vika was paraphrasing Mrs. M's words here, and that she misunderstood them, because I don't think making children scared of the police is an effective way to deal with inappropriate displays of affection. But I digress.... Vika said that while Mrs. M was talking to them, Cassanova started crying. Apparently, he always cries when he gets into trouble (which seems to be quite a lot).

Mom and I listened as Vika described another incident when Cassanova cried to get off the hook. I'll quote her here, because really, there's no other way to do the conversation justice.

Vika: Can you believe it? A 10 year old boy in 3rd grade is crying to get out of trouble! It's like that time, when he called this girl a "ditch," he cried, and didn't even get into trouble!

Me: I'm sorry, what did he call her?

V: A "ditch!"

Me: A "ditch?"

V: Yeah, a "ditch."

(Mom and I look at each other and burst into laughter)

V: What? What's so funny?

Me: Poor "Cassanova"...

Mom: Yeah, his mind's sure in the gutter!

(More laughter ensues while Vika stares at us in bewilderment)

V: What are you guys laughing at? Is it what he called her?

Me: (wiping the tears from my eyes) I'll tell you when you're older.

This resulted in the expected eye-roll from Vix, who was now a bit irritated with both of us. "Vika," I said, "I think maybe Cassanova is not the best person for you to be hanging around with." Fortunately, she agreed. Although this may have more to do with her crush on a nice, studious boy ("I'm in love Mama!"), rather than any words of wisdom on my part.

Anyway, the lesson I hope she learns from this enlightening experience is this: boys who kiss and tell and call girls nasty names (even if they don't get it right) aren't worth your time or affection.

God, I'm dreading her teen years....

Thoughts on Love and Marriage - A Kid's Perspective

2010-01-10T09:48:00.000-08:00

Eamon is very preoccupied with marriage. He is always mentioning which girl he wants to marry someday (and sometimes, which boy - we do live in the San Francisco Bay Area, after all, so he's seen both kinds of couples), but the names change almost weekly. Last week it was Robin or Annie. Then it became Sophia or Vika's friend Aimee (he's branching out to older girls). He also says he wants to marry me, or Vika, or some other family member. I just remind him that marriage is about making someone you love a part of your family. Since Vika and I are already his family, he can't marry us. I also am constantly telling him that since he is only 7, he doesn't need to worry too much about marriage just yet. He should save that for when he's older.

Then came an enlightening discussion with Babushka about "Sassy Girls" vs. "Cool Girls" (you can read her write-up of it here). According to Vika and Eamon, "Sassy Girls" are girls that wear short skirts, high heels, and cropped shirts so their bellies show. They are also really flirty and act like they're so pretty. Cool girls wear cool clothes but don't show their bellies. They act like themselves and aren't mean to other girls. Eamon told my mom that he wants to marry a Sassy Girl. So she dispensed the sage advice that Sassy Girls are fun to look at, but Cool Girls are the ones you marry. Eamon nodded as if he understood and the subject was changed.

However, later he said something which showed that the topic was still clearly on his mind. "Mama," he said. "I think you're right. I shouldn't worry about getting married. It's making my head go [insert crazy face and frantic hand movements here]."

I imagine deciding which kind of girl to marry would be a bit daunting for a 7 year old. Hopefully in 20 years or so, he'll have figured it out.

Then Again, Maybe I Won't

2010-01-07T06:46:00.001-08:00

I had this whole post prepared about New Year's resolutions and revelations, and staying connected to family and friends rather than taking them for granted. But reading through it again last night, it smacked a bit of bitterness. I think I'll rework it a bit before posting it here. Or maybe I won't. Maybe it will just languish with all my other draft posts which lost some of their appeal when I went to press the "Publish Post" button.

We'll see.

In other news, we received a bit of a surprise last week in the form of a message from Russia. The kids' Russian Mama sent us New Year's Cards. It wasn't much, but it was enough to let me know that she wants to keep contact with us, which was a huge relief. I was so worried that she might just ignore our last letter, which was sent nearly 6 months ago, or that future contact might be too painful for her. I was also concerned that she might have moved since I dragged my feet so long in writing to her. But now we have a current address to work with and a sign that connection with our family is not unwelcome.

I'm not sure how to respond to these cards though. They were basically holiday cards with brief notes written inside (we're having them translated), and didn't answer any of the questions I posed in my letter. I guess, rather than ask more questions, I'll just send an update on how the kids are doing with some additional pictures. Although I might sneak a little request in there for birth father pictures, if I can find a tactful way to do it. This whole thing is tricky - I desperately want information, but don't want to offend or seem too pushy. Any suggestions or input from those of you who have contact with birth families would be appreciated!

A Decade in Review

2010-01-03T17:40:00.000-08:00

I got this idea from mom, and thought that since this month marks the start of a new decade, it would be nice to recap the decade that passed.

1999

Jeff and I buy our first home.
Vacation in Cancun – we climb to the top of Chitzen Itza (although I thought I might die in the process)

2000

Y2K – nothing special and thankfully the world did not come to an end.
Jeff quits his job at UPS and goes into real estate.
Jeff, Ali and I travel to San Diego in the summer.
I buy my first ever brand new car! Mel, James and I take it on a road trip a week later.

2001

September 11^th – awful, horrid day.
Jeff, Ali and I visit Disneyworld.
Jeff and I get engaged on June 9^th (after a day-long scavenger hunt in which I actually had to dig up a treasure chest containing my ring!)
Although we didn’t know it at the time, Vika was born in Russia.

2002

Jeff and I get married on April 28^th and honeymoon in Australia.
Jeff and I decide we could easily live in Australia.
Vacation in Hawaii to celebrate my birthday.
Trip to Chicago to visit my uncle’s family and my grandpa, and to attend the baptism of my cousin.
Mom and Ed get married.
We didn’t know it at the time, but Eamon was born in Russia.

2003

I learn I am finally pregnant, but lose the baby 2 months later.
Road trip with Ali to visit family in Arizona and see Arches National Park in Utah.
We try again to get pregnant, but this effort is brief as I am over it already!
I begin taking night classes to get my teaching credential.

2004

Jeff and I begin the adoption process.
We travel with Ali to London and Paris.
Still working on my teaching credential.
Jeff’s mom passes away, and the hub of his family (a wonderful person) is gone.

2005

I quit my job at Stanford to begin student teaching.
Jeff’s dad passes away.
In June, I get my teaching credential.
We get a referral for Vika and Eamon, and after 2 trips to Russia, our adoption of them is complete!
On Christmas Eve, we bring our kids home.

2006

I begin writing in this blog.
Jeff and I adjust to being the parents of two very active children who speak no English (but learn it rapidly).
I work as a substitute teacher so that I can spend time at home with the kids.
Jeff and I take Ali and the kids to Chicago to visit my uncle’s family and my grandfather, who is now living in a nursing home.
Family vacation in Disneyworld.

2007

My brother Joe gets married!
Road trip to Arizona with Mom & Ed and Joe’s family. We force our spouses and kids to join us on a trip down "memory lane."
In July, I get my first full-time teaching job! I teach 6^th grade and become good friends with my teaching partner/mentor, J9.
Ed’s mom passes away.
Gramps passes away in October – we travel to Chicago in December for his memorial service.

2008

I get my first ever pink-slip when my district lays off all new teachers.
Vacation to Disneyland where we meet up with Mel and her family.
I am rehired at my school and begin teaching 5^th grade.
Ed’s father, Grandpa Clyde passes away.

2009

My nephew Tyson and cousin Alex are born!
I get laid off from my teaching job again (this is an annual occurrence for new teachers in our school district).
We take the kids to Disneyworld in the summer.
In August, I am rehired at my school, this time as a kindergarten teacher.

What adventures/memories/milestones did the past decade bring for you? If you write a list, please include the link in my comments so that I can check it out!

Snow Day!

2009-12-31T17:16:00.000-08:00

For some insane reason, Jeff and I thought it would be a good idea to take the kids to the snow. Since we live in the Bay Area, we can't just go outside and play in the snow. For us, a snow day begins with a 4-hour trek to Tahoe on the border of California and Nevada. We got up early, packed the car, and hit the road. Fortunately, the kids were still tired, so they were quiet for the first 2 hours of the drive. However, at 2 hours and 5 minutes in, we began getting the incessant "How much longer?" questions. And when we stopped to buy our Sno-park permit at a Sports Chalet along the way, the questions became, "This is it? Where's all the snow?" I would have thought that us being in a shopping center parking lot would have tipped Vika and Eamon off to the fact that we had not yet arrived at our final destination. I was wrong. When we finally did start seeing snow along the side of the road, the kids could hardly contain themselves. Little squeals of glee and anticipation replaced all their questions. It was with happiness and relief that we finally pulled into the Sno-Park.

The day was beautiful. There were a few clouds overhead and the snow was white and powdery. Jeff showed the kids how to slide down hills on their feet and engaged in a snowball fight with Eamon. Then he found a green inner tube which someone had left behind, and immediately began trying to blow the thing up. His efforts were in vain though, because all the air kept escaping through the gaping hole on the side of the tube. This, apparently, is why the tube was abandoned. Never one to miss an opportunity, Jeff folded the tube-carcass in half and used it as a makeshift toboggan to slide down a hill. He gave Eamon a turn, and really, it was a pathetic sight. The thing only slid so far, and Eamon was trying so hard to have fun with it. Some other snow-goers took pity on us and lent Jeff their sled. Both kids took turns, laughing all the way down the slope and through the trees.

In the meantime, I began building a snowman. Growing up in Arizona and then moving to California has not afforded me many opportunities to play in the snow. In fact, never before had I built a real snowman. I made a small little lump of a thing once, but that doesn't really count. I set to work on this snowman with gusto. He was going to be life-sized, with a scarf, a hat and gloves. Sadly, the powdery snow made this task a bit more daunting. I soon learned that I had to hold my hands over the snow, warming and melting it slightly, so it would stick together. This made the project take MUCH longer than anticipated. The kids and Jeff helped out a bit, but they soon lost interest and went on to more rewarding activities. I was tenacious though and finally completed the snowman's body (which was life-sized, if you are a three-year-old). I sent Vika off to get some sticks and Jeff and Eamon to the car for accessories. Here's our family with the finished product:

We named him "Snicks" (a combination of "snow" and "sticks"), and several families came by to admire our handiwork. By this time, the clouds had grown thicker and it started to snow. My toes were numb, Eamon's hands were frozen, and we were all hungry. Scrambling up the slope, we rushed to the car and ate a quick lunch. Eamon buckled himself into his car seat declaring, "I'm done with the snow Mama. I'll just wait in here." The poor kid's hands were red from the cold and his jeans were soaked through (we really were not dressed for the snow). But Vika wanted to make snow angels, so the kids rushed outside, plopped down on a snow bank, and began waving their arms and legs furiously. The shock of the cold along their whole body did both kids in, and they were a shivering mess, barely able to walk back to the car. It would seem that their hardy Russian blood has thinned during these years in California.

Changing Vika and Eamon into warm, dry clothes proved to be quite an ordeal. I have never heard them moan so much! Little pansies. ;) After what seemed like an epic struggle, we had them stripped of their wet jeans and shirts, and changed into snuggly fleece. With the snow coming down a bit harder, we pulled out of the park, dodging snowboarders being pulled by other cars along the way (what's up with that?), and made the long journey back home. It was a fun, but exhausting day. My uncle, who lives in Chicago, commented that it was sad we had to make a special trip to the snow when his family lives with it "every friggin' day" from December through April. After how long it took my toes to defrost, I can't say I envy him. Although it would be nice to be able to make a snowman in our front yard someday. Even if it is just a small little lump of a thing.

My Last Impulse Buy of 2009

2009-12-29T07:42:00.000-08:00

I saw these online and kind of had to have them. They'll go nicely with the matryoshka plates my friend J9 gave to our family for Christmas.

http://www.anthropologie.com/anthro/catalog/productdetail.jsp?id=873473&navAction=jump&search=true&parentid=SEARCH_RESULTS

What do you think? Cute, huh?

Actually, I don't think this will be my last impulse buy of 2009. I just read that Season 1 of "Glee" was released today. Heading off to Target now....

The Mystery of the Secret Santa

2009-12-26T09:34:00.000-08:00

For the past two years, packages for the kids have been left on our doorstep on Christmas Day from the "Secret Santa." This Secret Santa gets them small gifts, but they are things that the kids love. Junie B. Jones books, journals, writing notepads and pens (my kids LOVE note pads - they are either writing stories or taking our orders for dinner like little waiters). It's a thoughtful gesture that brings some unexpexcted joy on Christmas Day.

The thing is, neither Jeff nor I have any idea who the Secret Santa is. We had some ideas last year, but both those people delivered gifts for the kids in person before Christmas. It's hard to imagine that they would come back on Christmas Day with a second set of gifts for which they took no credit. Also, the Secret Santa spells Eamon's name right, so it probably isn't one of the neighbors. Most people spell Eamon's name "Amen" or "Amon" unless they have had the occasion to see it in writing (which our neighbors haven't, really). And since the Secret Santa gives gifts to "Victoria" instead of "Vika," I think he/she is probably not someone I work with or whose kids play with ours.

It's a mystery. I would love to be able to thank the Secret Santa for his/her thoughtfulness, but since I have no idea who it is, I can't! However, I don't think our appreciation is what they're after. It seems for someone out there, just knowing that they gave a little surprise to a couple of kids on Christmas Day is enough.

Merry Christmas Secret Santa. I hope your holiday brought some unexpected surprises as well.

Merry Christmas!

2009-12-24T11:07:00.000-08:00

Finally, the Christmas shopping is done, the pizzelles are baked (waffled?) and the presents are wrapped. Our disastrous cranberry cordials (which tasted like cough syrup) have been rescued, thanks to an extra infusion of vodka and sugar. It's been a busy holiday pre-season, and frankly, I'm ready to get down to the actual holiday.

Tonight we'll do our annual family dinner and celebration of the day we brought Vika and Eamon home. On the menu, roasted capon (I'm feeling very Victorian with that one), mashed sweet potatoes, some vegetable (not sure what - Jeff's cooking) and cranberry sauce. We'll also spend some time today at mom's, visiting with my step-family.

The kids will get to open two gifts today. One from us (always a pair of PJs), and one from Merripen (since he is leaving tonight with Santa). Vika is in that total girl mode where she wants us to dress alike. Often she'll come into the bathroom, make a note of what I'm wearing, and then rush into her bedroom to put on something similar. So, to accommodate this peculiarity of hers, I bought us matching PJs. We may look completely dorky in our lavender Nick & Nora owl jams, but Vika will LOVE it.

Tomorrow will begin with a breakfast of gingerbread waffles with cranberry compote and lots of present opening. Of course, that's after Jeff has gone downstairs and checked to make sure Santa came (the kids are a bit worried he may skip our house this year - with good reason).

But, before all that, we'll hold our annual viewing of the video below and spend some time remembering that hectic Christmas Eve 4 years ago. The Christmas Eve that delivered us all home, safe and sound, a family at last!

Have a happy holiday everyone! I wish you good health and much joy in 2010!

Can you guess what he wants for Christmas?

2009-12-16T08:05:00.000-08:00

Actually, it's his 3 front teeth. They've been gone for ages, and we'd ll really like them to start coming in now. So Santa, if you've got any pull with the Tooth Fairy, could you put in a good word for Eamon, please?

Sibling Rivalry Update

2009-12-13T10:02:00.000-08:00

Thanks for all the suggestions for dealing with the problem in my last post. We've actually used a few of them, and I think Vika is starting to get it. Maggie - we did the activity with the paper person, writing on the body all the things that make family great, and then tearing it apart with actions that hurt a family. Afterward we discussed what actions would put the family back together and taped the paper person back up. Then I hung him on the fridge as a reminder.

The next day, Vika and I were having a discussion about how she was talking to Eamon (she does love to boss him around). She began yelling and whining, so I said, "I don't think we're communicating very well right now. Lets talk about this later when we're both more calm." Vika stormed off to the refrigerator, took down the paper person and tore off the leg that says "communication." Then she placed it on my laptop. I fought back a smile because I know she was making a valid point, and I didn't think she'd appreciate the humor in the situation. But we later talked about it and she found her actions amusing too. I still have the paper "communication" leg sitting by my laptop, and it makes me smile every time I look at it. Perhaps it's time to reattach the leg to our little "Family Man" though.

Vika is also working on a well-thought-out letter of apology, which Eamon requested of her. Eamon told Vika he wanted the letter to say more than just "I'm sorry." He wanted her to show that she really meant it. Sounds like the kid has some tough standards. I hope he doesn't make Vika do too many revisions!

I really liked Kate's suggestion of a shared family "secret" that Vika was excluded from. It was just tricky thinking of how to do this in a way that didn't seem vindictive or mean. Luckily, Eamon is not the type to hold grudges or intentionally hurt someone's feelings, so when we told him our plan, I knew he would see it through in a kind way. We have planned a fun family evening watching "Polar Express," drinking hot chocolate (which we usually do during the "Hot Chocolate" scene in the movie - we're nerds), and making cinnamon S'mores. Eamon, Jeff and I have talked about the "fun plans" in passing, but not enough to lord it over Vika. We've just kind of mentioned it here and there, and Eamon's given me smiling thumb's up signals across the table. Vika has asked, "What is the surprise?! Is it a surprise for me?!" I said that no, it wasn't a surprise for her, but it was a family activity that we wanted to do, just the four of us. We are nervous about telling her because she might mention it to someone else, who would feel bad that they are not included. Frankly, it's driving Vika nuts! "Why can't you just tell me?!" she exclaimed in frustration yesterday afternoon. "I think you know the answer to that, Vika" I responded calmly. She got very quiet at that point and was really thinking about it. Hopefully she thought about what it means to share trust in a family and how it is better to be inside the "circle of trust" rather than outside of it. We'll put her out of her misery today though. A rainy Sunday sounds like the perfect day to watch "Polar Express," drink hot cocoa and eat S'mores!

One other family building activity Jeff and I are doing is kind of a "forced cooperation" program. Vika constantly needs to be in charge of Eamon, so we're making them work together on family chores, like folding laundry or cleaning the kitchen, and fun things like Holiday projects. We've instructed Eamon to say, "Nice try Vika" when she starts bossing him around and to remind her that they are working as a team. Our hope is that this will empower Eamon to react to Vika's bossiness with words instead of anger, and also reinforce that neither child in the house is in charge of the other. We'll see how that goes.

Thank you again for all the great ideas. I was too upset to really come up with anything constructive last weekend. Fortunately, since Vika let the secret slip on a Friday, the kids at school had all weekend to forget about it, and Eamon has not been teased since. That was my biggest concern, and luckily, it seems to no longer be an issue.

Parenting Advice Needed

2009-12-06T12:57:00.000-08:00

I need advice regarding a problem which I was made aware of this afternoon. Vika exposed a secret about Eamon, something he is ashamed of and which we have said would stay just within the family, to her classmates at school in an effort to embarrass and bully him. Sadly it worked, and now kids at school are making fun of Eamon as well. I'm so upset with her, and extremely sad that Eamon now has to endure teasing about something which he really cannot help.

I've told Vika how people need to feel safe in a family and how she has made Eamon feel unsafe by telling his secret to kids at school. I've also told her that words can never be taken back and how disappointed I am with her for lashing out at her brother in that way. But it seems there needs to be some bigger consequence for this so that it will never occur again.

How would you deal with a situation like this? Anything you can think of that would have a lasting impact? And for the more bloodthirsty of you out there, beating her with a stick is not an option.

Meet Merripen

2009-11-27T17:40:00.000-08:00

He's our new house elf. Only he doesn't cook or clean for us as the house elves from Harry Potter do. He's more of a scout, watching the kids and reporting both their good deeds and bad back to Santa.

On Thanksgiving, my step-father, Ed, presented an "Elf on the Shelf" to all 4 of the "big kids" (my brother, step-sister, step-brother and I) to share with our families. It was a bit emotional as he talked of this tradition he wanted us to start with our kids and keep going to remember him and mom after they're gone. A bit maudlin really, but the gesture was appreciated, nonetheless. The elf came with a storybook, which the kids and I read last night, and at the end were instructions to choose a name for the elf.

The kids’ first choice was "Willy," after the elf in "Fred Claus." Personally, I hate that name, so I told the kids that "Willy" was another name for a boy's private parts, and suitably horrified, they dropped the name from contention. (I know, I'm a terrible parent). Then, on the way home from Mom and Ed's, Eamon said, "How about we name the elf Jon Stewart?"

I think my heart grew a little bigger for the boy at that point. ;)

Finally, after some more discussion, I suggested "Merripen." Jeff and Vika both liked the name right away, but Eamon was still pushing for Jon Stewart. However, when I explained that Merripen sounds a bit like "Merry Christmas" and reminded me of the hobbit Merry from "The Lord of the Rings," Eamon decided he liked it too, and thus, our elf was named.

Here's how the elf works. He arrives around Thanksgiving and observes your kids until Christmas Eve. Each night, he flies back to Santa in the North Pole and gives his report. The next day, the elf is sitting in a different spot than he was before, showing that he did indeed move during the night.

The kids already love this idea. This morning, Eamon rushed down to find where Merripen was sitting today. He and Vika are in a bit of a competition to see who can find him first each morning. Vika, ever the clever girl, is writing letters to Santa and hiding them around the house. She whispers to Merripen where they are hidden so that if he is truly magical, he can take them back to the North Pole each night. If he's not magical, she thinks that she'll catch Jeff and I in some elaborate holiday conspiracy, thus proving her suspicions that Santa doesn't really exist. Hopefully we'll manage to stay one step ahead of her (and since Eamon can't keep a secret, we can probably get him to rat out her hiding places).

And so, a new holiday tradition for our family is born. Hopefully it is one we will carry on, long after our children abandon their status as "believers."

Food and Family

2009-11-23T11:42:00.000-08:00

Last night was our 2nd annual Fall Feast. You may remember last year's Fall Feast, when I frantically tried to cook a turkey to Martha Stweart's specifications and wound up with a nearly black, dried out bird. Actually it wasn't that bad. But it wasn't that good either. Thankfully, this year Jeff cooked the turkey, while the kids and I assisted with the blue corn bread stuffing and sweet potato pie. We also had broccoli and Gruyere gratin, cranberry sauce, and Yukon Gold mashed potatoes (which were heavenly).

To top it all off, Ali joined us for the Fall Feast, and the five of us had a really nice time. Vika and Eamon were both positively giddy when they found out that Ali would be joining us. Vika even commented that "We haven't had dinner with Ali like this in about 5 years!" It has really only been 2 years, but to a kid, I guess that seems like an eternity.

Since the Sweet Potato Pie took a bit longer to cook than we anticipated, the bird was put into the oven late. Which meant that we had about an hour and a half to kill. So, we put our new "Star Trek" blu-ray into the player and the five of us squished onto the couch to watch. Ali hadn't seen it before, and the kids have seen it about 7 times now, so they were quick to educate her on the ways of Star Trek. Whenever Spock did the Vulcan Salute, Vika and Eamon silently raised their hands and did the Vulcan Salute back to the TV. Ali was sandwiched between the two of them, looking at me with a "What the hell is this?" expression on her face. But by the end of the movie, Vix and Eames had her doing the Vulcan Salute too.

It was a fun evening, and the first time we've hung out with Ali alone in about 3 years (she usually brings a friend). Hopefully this will happen more in the future and our relationship with her will gradually be repaired.

Sibling Rivalry

2009-11-11T17:44:00.001-08:00

The best part about this sign, which is hung on Vika's door, is the little drawing at the bottom. Vika is shouting "Out!" to Eamon, and he's giving her this evil "ha ha ha!" laugh.

She does have a flare for the dramatic.

Guest Posting at Life of Elle

2009-11-10T07:15:00.000-08:00

November is National Adoption Awareness Month, and to honor families that have come together through adoption, Elle (of Sweet Hope fame) has invited several of us to be guest posters on her blog. My post is up today (click here to read it). Another adoptive parent, Suzanne, (a wonderful mother whom I wish I was more like!) also wrote a post, which you can read here.

Elle will be featuring guest posts all month long, so check her blog, Life of Elle, regularly to read others' stories of adoption.

Happy Metcha' Day!

2009-11-08T10:19:00.001-08:00

Four years ago today, we first met Vika and Eamon at their orphanages in Murmansk, Russia. Metcha' Day is a big deal in our home. Every year we hold a Metcha' Day feast, where we share Russian dishes with family and watch the video from our first trip to Russia. And each year I marvel at how much the kids have grown and relive some of the emotions going through me that November 8th in 2005.

For those of you who are not adoptive parents, Metcha' Day is kind of like the day you gave birth to your child. An adoption labor lasts for months - preparing documents, going through background and psychiatric checks, waiting for a referral, and for some, the disappointment of having to decline or losing a referral. Then there is the trip to Russia, which is both exciting and exhausting. Finally, as you sit in a dingy orphanage waiting room, after a year of "paper pregnancy," your child walks in and you see him/her for the first time. You get to see the way they move and hear their voice. You get to hold and interact with them for the first time and learn how they feel and smell. It is an amazing event that will never, ever be forgotten. After months of waiting and planning and wondering, there your child is, in the flesh, and you know your life will never be the same again.

Here is our music montage video from our first trip to Russia. Most of you have seen this before, but it's kind of become a tradition to re-post it every year. Happy Metcha' Day Vika and Eamon!

It's the Season for Sweet Hope

2009-11-06T17:59:00.000-08:00

Each year, Elle's Sweet Hope organization holds a fundraiser to help orphans worldwide. Elle makes up batches and batches of truffles - in a variety of flavors - and proceeds from the sales go directly to orphanages across the globe. This year she's added caramels to her list of gourmet candies, and this year I am serving as a volunteer sales person.

I have a whole box of samples to give people a taste of just how good these truffles really are. I'm also practicing a tremendous amount of restraint in not eating the whole lot myself! Because I've done that before. But it's OK because I'm eating chocolate for a good cause, right? Well, you can too. If you're someone I see in real life, feel free to ask for a sample. If not then, please click on the Sweet Hope image above to get to the website, where you can purchase a box of truffles for your family. The candy will be on sale from November 9-27th, and will ship out on December 16th, just in time for the holidays.

Please help us make life a little sweeter for children living in orphanages all over the world.

Getting Better... I think....

2009-11-04T08:19:00.000-08:00

For some reason, I can't shake this cold. I felt like I was getting better last week, but then it came up on me again, even worse than before. I went into school on Monday, but barely made it through class. Thank goodness I teach the morning kindergarten class, so I was able to leave in the afternoon without inconveniencing anyone too much. And I've been home ever since, resting on the couch and in bed, taking meds and drinking lots of tea.

The kids have been pretty good about me staying home sick. This morning they put together quite a surprise. Jeff went downstairs around 7:30 am, and I heard Vika and Eamon yell, "Surprise!" I went down and saw that not only had they gotten themselves up and ready for school, but they had set the table beautifully with a choice of cereals, milk, toast, and even a pot of tea (which is a very nice pot that we keep up high - I'm so glad they didn't get hurt or drop the dang thing while getting it down!). Despite the many opportunities they had to burn themselves with the hot tea or break various dining ware, Vika and Eamon took care of everything really well! My kids are growing up. The only mishap of the morning was provided by Jeff, who put a frozen loaf of bread in the microwave to defrost, while it was still in its plastic wrap with a gold label, and the loaf caught on fire. Vika said, "It's like a candle went off in there!" when looking at the scorched ceiling and melted plastic on the glass of the microwave. Poor Jeff. He's scrubbing the appliance as I type this.

Hopefully another day of rest at home will help me kick this cold once and for all. I'm going back to work tomorrow, and our Metcha Day feast is this Saturday, so I'd really like to get better now. In the meantime, I'll snuggle back with a pot of tea and a good book and enjoy the few hours of quiet I have until the kids get home from school.

Mixed Emotions

2009-11-01T10:09:00.000-08:00

Things have been a bit out of sync over here lately. There has been a lot of the good mixed in with the bad, and it's left me a tad off-balance.

First of all, I've had a cold for the past week and a half, and I can't seem to shake it. Fortunately, it has not been accompanied by fevers and body aches, so I don't believe it is the dreaded swine flu. Thank goodness for that! I would like this stuffiness and coughing to go away now, though. After a particularly rough night, Jeff woke me this morning with a hug and a "Morning Jen. I hate you." Then he kissed my head, tucked the blankets around me, and got up. He was teasing, of course, but I did keep him up all night with my coughing. My poor, long-suffering husband. ;)

Things have also been a little different with my step-daughter, Ali. The good news is that she's contacting us a bit more regularly now, and she even came out for Eamon's birthday (it was the first time she's ever celebrated that with us). It was nice to see her and have her spend time with the family again. The bad news is that every time she contacts us, there seems to be a crisis of some sort. Often she needs money desperately, and sometimes there are other tragic events. First her boyfriend broke his back, and this week, a good friend of hers from high school died, along with 3 others, in a car crash on her way back from Vegas. Ali is naturally devastated, and I feel so bad for her because over the past few years, she seems to have separated herself from many of her support systems. It must be terribly hard to be living alone in a city away from family and close friends, especially during a such a difficult time. It is my hope that this horrible tragedy will have a silver lining, and Ali will examine the way her life is going and come to value family relationships once again.

The final blow for my week came yesterday, on Halloween. As you know, Rupert has not been doing so well. The tumor on his foot has been getting bigger, and he has been dropping weight. However, he was still acting like himself for the most part, and the foot didn't seem to be giving him any pain. Until yesterday. He had begun to get lethargic, but he still followed me around the house, purring when I said his name. However, as he walked through the kitchen, we noticed some blood on the floor. I immediately put his foot in warm water to clean it, and, well, I'll spare you all the gory details and just say that the tumor had broken though the skin and it was all-around unpleasant. Funny thing is, it still didn't seem to be causing Rupert any discomfort. He let me clean his foot without so much as a wince. But I knew that it wouldn't be long before the tumor would become infected and cause him great pain. So I took him into the vet, and she agreed that it was time to let him go. She also validated my decision not to amputate the foot, which made me feel a lot better because when faced with the decision of euthanasia, I began to question whether or not I could have done more for Rupert. In the end, he went peacefully, and Jeff, Vika and Eamon were there to give me hugs when I left the hospital in tears (they were not in the room with me - Jeff took the kids outside to pick flowers).

Fortunately, we had trick-or-treating to take the kids' minds off the loss of Rupert. It cheered me up too, to see Eamon running with his skinny little legs in his Obi-Wan Kenobi costume, and Vika preening around as an Asian Princess. Eamon usually wears baggier boy clothes, so to see him in a tight-fitting costume was a bit like seeing a fluffy cat that had just been doused with water. I don't know where that boy packs away all the food he eats! Both kids had a great time trick-or-treating and passing out candy at my mom's house (every time there was a knock on the door they jumped up and yelled, "Customers!!!"). They even scored some Baby Ruths, which naturally, I took as soon as they were in bed.

It was a fun end to a roller-coaster-week. But hopefully the coming days will be a bit more relaxed and I'll finally kick this cold. I also hope that where ever Rupert is, he's happily flinging around a milk top and surrounded by toilets with the lids up (his disgustingly favorite source of water). Goodbye little man. I'll miss you.

Love and Friendship

2009-10-20T20:28:00.000-07:00

This weekend marked a very special occasion. On Sunday evening, my good friend Jaime got married to a great guy, and I had the honor of being her bridesmaid (which I prefer to the more stout sounding "brides matron").

James and I met nearly 15 years ago while working at a highly dysfunctional Pet Hospital, which despite being populated with crazy people was where I met my three best friends (not sure what that says about me - make of it what you will). I worked there first, and was joined by Mel a few years later. Then Jaime entered our group as the "young one", and the three of us have been friends ever since (for those of you keeping count, the third best friend I met at the Pet Hospital was Jeff - the UPS guy who made our deliveries). Despite having vastly different personalities, the three of us just work well together. We accept each other’s eccentricities and annoying personality traits, and our time together is always filled with lots of laughter.

This weekend was no different. Between games of Bocce Ball, spa treatments at Mel’s house and a slumber party Saturday night, were moments of doubled over laughter. However, the most memorable events occurred at the wedding reception.

Being the good bridesmaids and friends that we are, Mel and I swore to be “on it” for Jaime, no matter what. Well, these duties went a little further than I had imagined. Assistance in the bathroom I could easily predict because hey, wedding dresses are big and unwieldy. Can’t have them getting soiled while the bride does her business. What I did not anticipate however, was the rogue toilet-seat cover that attempted to stick with James as she was leaving the stall. I definitely took one for the team when I removed that thing! Then there was the bizarre incident (this happened several times, really), where Mel, James and I were the only people on the dance floor. During “Hey Ya!” by Outcast, the rest of the wedding guests were sitting back, watching the three of us dance as if we were on stage or something. Even the photographers were surrounding us, taking pictures. It was as if there was some tradition of the Bride/Bridemaids dance or something. So bizarre. And I felt like a complete ass because truthfully, I’m not the most gifted dancer, and having everyone’s attention on me as I attempted to “shake my groove thang” was torturous. But, Jaime wanted to dance, so dance I did with a big smile plastered to my face.

Unfortunately, when a couple joined us on the dance floor, it was the mother-of-the-groom (who is in her late fifties) and her 34-year-old boyfriend. Now, I’m not going to judge her too harshly for choosing a cougar lifestyle. Hey, more power to her, really. I will however, judge her for her and her Boy Toy’s antics on the dance floor. Let’s just say that there was a lot of grouping, grinding, and general unseemliness going on. At one point, mother-of-the-groom was straddling Boy Toy, legs locked around his waist as he ground into her. It was not becoming. In fact, I flashed back to junior high, where school dances always consisted of clumps of girls dancing, boys all sitting/standing on the outskirts of the room, too “cool” to join in, and the creepy couple making out on the dance floor. Fortunately, Jaime and Patric seemed able to blow the whole thing off and have a good time anyway.

Despite his mother’s unfortunate choice of boyfriends, Patric really is a great guy and is perfect for Jaime. During the first half of our 15-year friendship, James was with a pretty damaging person who did not come close to deserving her. I’m so happy to see her settling down with a man who truly loves her for who she is, and will put up with her, rogue toilet seat covers and all.

Congratulations Jaime and Patric! I hope you both are having a wonderful honeymoon and look forward to hanging out when you get back!

Cast your Vote!

2009-10-14T17:05:00.000-07:00

Maggie, whom many of you know from "The Open Window," is up for a blogger talent contest! She's an amazing writer and has a wealth of great experience to share relating both to her domestic adoption of Slugger and the challenges she faces as the parent of a son with special needs. I think a lot of readers could benefit from her insights and wisdom, so please, go to this link and cast your vote for Maggie!

Good Mood Gig from SAM-e

Happy Birthday Little Man

2009-10-07T06:00:00.000-07:00

Eamon is turning 7 today. He’s changed so much over the past 4 years that he’s almost a different child than the one we adopted.

Before he was quiet and unsure. Doctors said he had a “speech delay.” Now he talks a mile a minute about anything that enters his mind - a verbal stream-of-consciousness - but usually about Transformers or Star Wars.

At 3 years old, he was very small, wearing clothes for an 18 month old. Now he’s caught up to his peers and seems so tall sometimes that I stare at him in wonder. What happened to my little munchkin?

When we adopted Eamon, he was shy and uncertain of his safety in this new life with his new family. Now he is open and extroverted, unashamed to do his freaky dance in a room full of strangers, and always wanting to make people smile. In restaurants, he walks the long way back from the bathroom so that he can catch the eye of other diners and say, “Good day!” Often as we leave, he points out all his new friends, waving goodbye to each as we pass.

Eamon has grown a lot in 4 years and it is amazing to see how far he has come. He will often say things like, “Mama, I wonder what I’m going to be like when I’m a grown up?” Truth be told, I often wonder that as well. But then I see him putting on his tie so that he can look good for Babushka, and I smile, knowing that he’s going to be quite a remarkable man, indeed.

Eamon the day after we brought him home (Christmas, 2005)

Eamon this Summer

She's no Taylor Swift

2009-09-24T07:00:00.000-07:00

Recently, Vika has become an ardent fan of Taylor Swift. She printed out the lyrics to "Love Story" and practiced incessantly until she had all the words memorized. Kind of. She says "Julia" instead of "Juliette" ("Romeo and Julia" doesn't have quite the same ring...). Because the girl was singing the song ALL THE TIME (at the dinner table, in the shower, while watching T.V.), it quickly moved from being "cute" to being "so-irritating-I-can't-stand-it", prompting us to make our house a "No 'Love Story' Zone."

The fact that Vika is completely tone-deaf didn't help.

When she sings, the words "painful" and "Oh God, please stop" come to mind. But, not being the type of parents to squelch our child's dreams, Jeff and I have been doing what we can to encourage Vika to sing a bit better. And let me tell you, it's not easy doing this without being critical of her voice. So, Jeff got some singing software for his computer and worked with Vika for over an hour, trying to get her to hold a proper note. At dinner, Jeff mentioned how great Vika did and how she held a G note! Vix beamed and nodded in agreement. Genuinely excited for her, I offered praise for her hard work. However, after the kids were asleep, Jeff said he may have exaggerated Vika's vocal improvement. With eyebrows raised and a pained look on his face, he essentially said that Vika could not carry a tune in a bucket.

I think we might be better off encouraging Vika to pursue ballet. It's just quieter.

Weekend Update

2009-09-19T18:39:00.000-07:00

What follows are some completely unrelated bits of information which I will attempt to link together with creative segues:

First off, I finally finished my February Lady Sweater! I had set it aside but rediscovered it this summer, when I began working on the sweater with the goal of having it done in time for Fall. The garter-stitch top was easy, but the lace pattern for the body and sleeves gave me a bit of trouble. In fact, I had to rip the dang thing out 6 times before I got into the rhythm of the pattern. Watching T.V. while knitting certainly didn't help, but towards the end of the sweater, I was able to do both. Here is the finished result:

I actually made clothes for myself! I think I may do it more often (especially since I won't leave my sweaters lying on the playground to be trampled by hundreds of children, as Vika and Eamon do). I'm still not sure about the length of the sleeves - they seem like they should be either longer or shorter. But I don't have it in me to rip them out and finish them again, so I think I'll leave them this way for now.

The show that kept distracting me from the lace rows in this pattern is one Jeff and I recently discovered called "Firefly". We got it on Netflix in order to alleviate our "Star Trek" cravings (that movie will be released on DVD in November), and were pleasantly surprised. The show is on DVD because it was canceled after one season, which is a huge shame, really. "Firefly" is a SciFi Western, which despite the contradictory nature of the genre, is actually a lot of fun. My favorite lines from the show so far: "Well, my days of taking you seriously have certainly come to a middle." and "Your mouth's talking. You might want to do something about that." I would love to use that last line in my everyday life, but I think it would make my kindergartners cry.

Speaking of my students, have I mentioned that 3 of my kids have life-threatening food allergies? Well, two of those kids had allergic reactions last week, and it kind of freaked me out. Fortunately, I didn't have to use the epi-pens stored in the classroom, but it still was pretty scary. I really feel for their parents, having to deal with this on a day-to-day basis. Hopefully we'll get through the year with the epi-pens still unused, and all three kids happily going off to terrify a first grade teacher next Fall!

Have a great weekend everyone!

Lincoln's Legacy, as taught by a first grader

2009-09-17T20:01:00.000-07:00

Tonight Vika and I were treated to a home theatrical, courtesy of Eamon. In a very dignified voice, he asked us to come see the President in his room. Then he quickly ran to his table, set down his light saber (sheathed in a gold, plastic scabbard to make it look more old skool) and banged his gavel (a light saber handle) to gain our attention. In a loud, clear voice, he spoke into a microphone (made of another light saber handle) and began telling us about money.

He pointed to a penny and said, "This money has Lincoln Log on it. It's one cent."

Then he took out a piece of paper and said, "These are the important rules that Lincoln Log wrote."

Keep people safe
Make sure no one really dies that much.
Don't say bad words, like "You're a loser!"

Next, he proceeded to show us the "Obama money," which wound up being a sticker with a picture of a whale tail on it because "Obama doesn't have money yet."

He began to tell us about Obama's rules, but became distracted by a green plastic crystal from his make-your-own light saber kit, which apparently was not where he thought it should be. After putting it away he stood up, and with a flourish of his hand sketched an elegant bow, thus ending his performance.

It was interesting, to say the least.

His presidential lesson also made it quite clear that the boy has entirely too many light sabers.

Kindergarten (mis)adventures

2009-09-13T09:35:00.000-07:00

So, kindergarten.... It's going well, and I think I am adjusting OK without emotionally scarring any of my students. They are just so tiny and tend to cry very easily. Something I'm not really used to in my students. Here are some other things I didn't expect:

"Johnny Ringo." He's this very cute little boy who cusses like a sailor and tends to scream "I GIVE UP" when he doesn't want to do something. He also likes to yell, "IT'S NO FRICKIN' FAIR!" and "DAMN IT!!!" when things don't go his way. As you can probably imagine, Johnny Ringo has been in more than a few time-outs (another thing I'm not used to giving my students).
My Jehovah's Witness student who said "Shit!" when she dropped her crayon. I don't know... I guess I just assumed that Jehovah's Witnesses didn't use curse words!
A student I think of as "Little Boy Blue" because he is so very tiny and has big blue eyes. He's 4 years old and likes to suck his thumb. His hands also tend to roam up my shirt and up my pants, leaving a wet trail wherever they go. On Friday, while I was reading a story to the class he sat next to me and held my arm. I just ignored it, until I felt warm wetness and looked down to see him sucking my arm. Ewww. Just ewwww.

There are some fun times with the kinders too. For example, my birthday was yesterday, and when I told them I was having a birthday, they naturally asked, "HOW OLD ARE YOU GOING TO BE?" (kindergarten kids tend to shout out when they are excited). I responded that I was going to be 6 years old, and they exploded into raptures, "I"M GOING TO BE SIX THIS YEAR TOO!!!!" They love it that we have something in common, and a few of them have wondered aloud if they will be as tall as me when they turn 6. Later on I might have them add 30 to that number to get my actual age, but probably not. ;)

In the end, despite the learning curve, I am enjoying kindergarten. I love being done with the direct teaching at 11:25 am when my kids (the early birds) leave for the day. I only have to be "on" for half a day, and it's quite nice! I also like having a bit of prep time during the afternoon, something that is a rare commodity in my school district these days (teacher prep time was cut because of the budget). And fortunately, I am working with a great partner who has everything I could possibly need to teach the hands-on lessons. She's also great about letting me pick her brain as I learn the new grade level.

I think it is going to be a good year, and, at the very least, it should give me some great stories!

1 Day Down, 179 to Go!

2009-09-02T20:06:00.000-07:00

Today was the first day of school, and also my first day teaching kindergarten. Making the leap from 5th and 6th grade to kinder has been quite an adjustment. While I like the shorter teaching days (I teach for 3.5 hours and assist the afternoon teacher for 3 hours), and am glad for the easier grading, I'm also mourning the loss of my history curriculum. History is a great love of mine, and I had the best time teaching Ancient Civilizations and US History. I believe kindergarten Social Studies consists of topics like what it means to be a good citizen and maybe a lesson or two on police officers and firefighters. All important things, to be sure, but not really my area of interest.

The other adjustment has been how I will relate to my students. I'm one of those teachers who tends to call her students "Dude," and I'm not sure how it will fly the first time I let a "dude" slip with 5 year olds. One of my 5th grade colleagues said that me teaching kindergarten is "like Rodney Dangerfield teaching kindergarten." I'm not quite sure how to take that. (I get no respect, I tell ya!). Since this teacher likes me, I think I'll take it as an observation of my playful quirkiness, rather than an actual criticism.

Adding to my kinder-anxiety is the fact that I have 3 kids with severe food allergies in my class (both from ingestion and contact), 2 of which are life-threatening and require epi-pens. Fortunately the parents of two of the kids are pretty reasonable an practical about the difficulties presented by a kindergarten situation. We've been working together to make the classroom and playground as safe as possible for their children. The third parent... well, let's just say that the jury is still out on that one (although I think a verdict of "crazy" may be imminent).

Despite these anxieties, today went surprisingly well. The kids were all pretty sweet and seemed to enjoy being in class. There was one "Oh crap!" moment when I had the kids sorting school supplies on the big carpet while I brought students to their cubbies one by one. After I led a child to her cubbie, I turned back to the carpet to see kleenex tissues flying in the air. Sitting in the midst of this tissue downpour was a little girl, gleefully tearing kleenex from every box around her. I so did not anticipate that! When I asked her to stop, she looked up at me in confusion and said, "But they're my Kleenex."

Kindergartners will certainly keep you on your toes.

Hopefully tomorrow will go even better and by the end of the month, the kids and I will have our routines down. I think it is going to be a very interesting year.

Back to Reality

2009-08-25T15:46:00.001-07:00

Well, we're back. Back from our Disney World vacation and back to the daily grind. *sigh* It's always hard to return to normal life, but we did make some good memories on the trip. Here are a few highlights:

As always, the FOOD. We love the Boma restaurant in the Animal Kingdom lodge and returned there this trip. Excellent African-inspired dishes and a delicious bread pudding with chocolate rum sauce for dessert! If you're heading to DisneyWorld in the future, I recommend checking this place out. Just make your reservations for sometime in the 4-5 pm hour, otherwise you may have to wait in long lines to get your food.
We also went to the Coral Reef restaurant in Epcot, which was quite an experience. The entire wall is a window into a giant aquarium, and we were seated right next to it. The view, the food, and the service were all excellent. There's just something so relaxing about watching sea turtles and stingrays glide by as you enjoy a well-cooked meal.
Meeting the Mad Hatter at breakfast. I'm not really an Alice in Wonderland fan - for some reason, I find it all a bit disturbing. But the guy who did the Mad Hatter was a lot of fun. He reminded me of many of the actors I worked with in musical theatre (IF you know what I mean....) and he sat and chatted with us for quite a while. Vika and Eamon were completely charmed by him, unlike the girl at the next table who ran to her mother, wailing hysterically as he approached.
The absolute, number 1 highlight of this vacation for me was supplied by Eamon. Now, there's no way to sugar-coat this, but for much of the trip, the boy was a bit of a pansy. He got really scared on Splash Mountain and cried (with tears) through Big Thunder Mountain Railroad, screaming "I WANT TO GET OFF!" soon after the ride began. It was strange because he loved both rides last year at Disneyland - I'm not sure what happened to heighten his fear. In line for every ride we went of after Thunder Mountain, Eamon asked, "Is this one fast? Are there any bumps?" In the Winnie The Pooh ride line he asked this! So, Jeff and I pretty much agreed that Expedition Everest was not going to be Eamon's cup of tea (for those of you who haven't been to DW recently, it's a roller coaster that goes through "Mt. Everest" at high speeds, both forwards and backwards, with a close encounter of the Yeti kind). Finally, the day came when we were ready to tackle Everest. Jeff and I had devised a plan where we would take turns on the ride, so one of us could be with Eamon at all times. However, as we approached the line, Eamon said, "I wanna do it." "What?" I asked, "Are you sure?" Eamon replied, "Yes Mama, I think I can do it." As we walked through the line, Eamon was very quiet and tense, taking everything in. When it was our turn to get onto the train, Eamon sat down stiffly and began to shake. "Are you OK?" I asked, and he just nodded. Then the train began moving, and I looked over, prepared to see an expression of terror on the boy's face. What I saw instead completely surprised me - Eamon had lifted his hands in the air and was wearing a big smile on his face! He kept his hands up for most of the ride, sometimes letting out an exhilarated yell. The boy looked like he was having so much fun, only betraying his fear once towards the end of the ride when he asked, "Mama, is it almost over?" When I answered yes, he replied, "Good!" However, after the ride, Eames was completely giddy that he had done it. I was so proud of him for conquering his fear and enjoying the ride, and it was clear that he was pretty proud of himself too. What a little stud!

Unfortunately, all good things must end, so now we're home, with piles of laundry to do and groceries to buy (which I hope Jeff is out doing right now, since I'm plopped in front of the computer).

One other bit of news happened during my vacation. I got a call from the district offering me a teaching job! Kind of.... but I'll get to that in a bit. The original offer was to teach 2nd grade at the lowest performing school in the district. It wasn't an ideal position, but there are some benefits to teaching in the primary grades, regardless of the school, so I was prepared to accept it. Then, when I got home, I heard a rumor that I was put in a kindergarten position at my old school instead. I confirmed the rumor this afternoon, so now it looks as if I'll be teaching really little kids this year! It's going to be quite a change, but I'll be in a school I know, with teachers who are my friends and who will help me find my footing.

The main bummer about this whole thing is that this isn't a real teaching position. Our district is re-hiring laid-off teachers as "long-term subs," which means that we'll be doing all the same work, but for less than half of our regular teaching salary and no benefits. And, if I don't accept the position, then I'll be off the District re-hire list for good. Nice, don't you think? They may make it a temporary contract in October (what all newer teachers are hired under), which would get me back to my regular pay. If they don't though, I'll have to reassess what I'm going to do at that time. I mean, if they are going to pay me as a sub, with no benefits, than I might as well work as a day sub, with the flexibility and shorter hours justified by the lower pay (no after school meetings or evening/weekend grading). Hopefully that won't happen though and I, along with the other 60 teachers who have been hired back, will get a regular teaching contract. I'll keep you posted.

Two Kids, Four Seasons

2009-08-17T18:09:00.000-07:00

It's kind of fun to see how they've grown. (Thanks Maggie, for the collage idea!)

Disney World, here we come!!! (Hurricane Bill and tropical storm Claudette, stay AWAY!)

Summer Camp

2009-08-14T08:14:00.000-07:00

This week, the kids have been in day camp, and it has been GLORIOUS! From around 8:30 am until 3 pm, they are at the local community center doing fun activities with friends. This week's theme is "Totally Talented," which translates to a lot of karaoke, camp songs, and talent shows. Although they did learn the dance to Michael Jackson's "Thriller" the other day. It was funny to see them dancing (jerking) around with their zombie faces on. Unfortunately, the video camera was not charged, and by the time it was, Vika and Eamon had forgotten most of the dance. *sigh*

The best part about camp is not that the kids get to be out of the house having fun, but it's that I have some actual free time to myself. I haven't had that for over 3 years now, and I'm enjoying every minute of it! I've been knitting my sweater (this little number,which I really want to complete in time to wear this Fall) and watching a lot of "The Tudors" on Netflix. Although I was a bit put off by some of the explicit scenes at first, I have come to love "The Tudors." I must admit that I am lured as much by my admiration of Henry Cavill as by my interest in English history - however fictionalized it may be for dramatic effect. "The Tudors" is something you definitely don't want to watch when kids are around, so having Vika and Eamon at camp has been a perfect opportunity to catch up.

Next week, we're off to Florida and Disney World. It may be hot and sticky, but since we haven't had a lot of hot weather in Northern California this summer, I figure we're about due for some heat. Although the poor kids did get a bit sunbured on their faces yesterday. I lathered on the sunscreen, but they went on a field trip to the waterpark and forgot to reapply later in the day. This prompted a mini-lecture from Jeff on the merits of sunscreen and why it's important to protect your skin. He did a wrinkle demonstration and then said that "once the damage is done, there's nothing you can do about it."

Eamon, ever the optimist, replied, "We could wish...on a star...."

Now, is that a kid who's ready for Disney World or what?

Dreaming Big at Sweet Hope

2009-08-10T08:59:00.000-07:00

As anyone who's ever adopted internationally knows, it can get pretty expensive. Also, if you've visited an orphanage in another country, you have seen the great need of the children living in those facilities. After adopting her own son from Russia, Elle decided to give back by starting Sweet Hope. Every year she makes awesome truffles, which she then sells and donates the proceeds to an adoption-related cause. In the past, she's donated funds to pre-adoptive families who were having difficulty covering their adoption expenses, and last year she put the money toward buying Christmas gifts for children living at an orphanage in Khabarovsk, Russia.

This year, Elle is thinking bigger, and she needs help. Her plan is to do a benefit concert to raise even more funds to donate to orphanages in Russia this Christmas. You can read more about her plans here: Then I go and Get All Super Crazy.

If you would like to help in any way, Elle could use your assistance. It is a truly great cause. Neither Vika nor Eamon had ever received a present before they joined our family (their first full day home was actually Christmas day, and that must have been quite a shock!). Gifts such as warm clothing, books, games and toys are desperately needed in Russian orphanages, and showing the children that someone outside of the orphanage cares for them is a wonderful gift too. Perhaps you can help make Christmas a little brighter this year for a child in need?

Toothless

2009-08-07T09:06:00.000-07:00

My kids have matching grins. On Sunday Eamon lost a second front tooth, evening-up the Tooth Fairy count. Now he and Vika are missing both their two front teeth, and the two teeth on either side of their bottom front teeth (they already have their grown-up teeth in the bottom front). Unfortunately, Eamon keeps sticking his tongue through the gap, so this is the best photo I could get.

Maybe if they stay like this through October, we can paint their faces orange and have "kid o' lanterns" instead of Jack o' lanterns for Halloween?

Comcast follow-up

2009-08-04T15:44:00.000-07:00

This morning, I received a notification in my e-mail that a person named "comcastcares5" had commented on my last post offering assistance in solving my problem. I was thinking about e-mailing him when the phone rang. It was Comcast. Finally, someone was calling to help me fix this mess!

"Hello!" I said, "Is this Comcast?"

The terse voice on the other line said, "Yes it is Ma'am. How are you going to pay?"

"Excuse me?" I asked. Wasn't this the person whom the Comcast Office said was supposed to call me to sort things out? "Where are you calling from?" I asked the agent.

"This is Collections Ma'am." She then explained that my account was past due and that our service had been discontinued. "WHAT???!!!" I shouted, getting really fed up. I explained to her that we had yet to receive a correct bill on our account and that I had been trying for a month to get this corrected.

Her response: "You still need to pay your bill Ma'am."

"But I haven't ever received a correct bill!!!!" I screeched. "The bills say different amounts and accounts each time! How am I supposed to know what to pay, and why didn't the lady at the Comcast office tell me any of this yesterday???!!! Don't you guys talk to each other???!!!"

I mean, really. They're a telecommunications company - can't they communicate better?

The agent responded, "I believe we do Ma'am. Now how did you want to pay your bill?"

At this point I asked her to clarify the charges for me. It seems the discrepancy in her amount and the amount I was told by billing on Friday was due to late fees that had been applied. I protested that it was ridiculous that we were being charged late fees on bills that had been sent to the wrong address and that had incorrect information on them. I also reminded her that I've been trying to get a correct bill for nearly a month and insisted that she remove the late charges.

The agent agreed to credit the late fees to my account, and I paid what I hope was the correct amount for July. I also learned that the $390 one-time service fee had been dropped. The agent then tried unsuccessfully to "reinstate service" for the account. She became confused when the system wouldn't let her reconnect service, and even more befuddled when I said that our service was working fine and had been all day. I explained again that the problem might be because there are 3 accounts open under our name at 2 different addresses. Then I asked her which account/address I had actually paid. Was it our neighbor's service that was disconnected, and did I just pay his bill for July?

At this point the agent began looking at our accounts a little more closely and said, "Oh, this is all messed up!" "Yes it is" I replied. "And I need it fixed TODAY."

"I need to transfer you to Billing so that they can help you."

"NO!!!" I shouted. "DON'T! The Billing Department told me to go to the Comcast Office to get it fixed, and the Comcast Office redirected me to Credit and Collections, and now you're sending me back to Billing!!! I'm getting the run-around, BIG TIME."

The agent said she would see what she could do and put me on hold. By this point, I was ready to spit nails, so I punched out a quick e-mail to Mark (comcastcares5 who commented on my last post). As I was typing, a woman named Diana came on the phone and told me she was getting in touch with a supervisor to sort things out. Slowly I began to relax and feel a bit more positive.

And then my call was disconnected. Lovely.

I finished up my e-mail to Mark (including the part about being disconnected) and gave him my home phone number. Then I sat and waited for Diana to call me back. But after a while I began to think that she might not call, so I picked up the phone and dialed 1-800-COMCAST, pushing all the necessary numbers to try and get back to a live person in the Billing Department. A woman came on the line and began asking me for my account info. As she accessed my account, I could tell that she was trying to make sense of what she was seeing. "It's a mess, right?" I asked. She kind of laughed and I said, "Look, I was just on the phone with a supervisor but got disconnected. Can you please put me through to someone who can help?"

BEEEEEEP - the other line rang, and it was a call from Philadelphia.

"Are you in Philadelphia?" I asked the woman. "What?" she replied, sounding confused. "Are you in Philadelphia? I have a call on the other line and I'm wondering if it's the Comcast supervisor calling me back."

"Well, Ma'am, I don't know. I'm in Wisconsin!" Perfect.

"Can you hang on a minute?" I asked, and then switched over to the other line to see who was calling.

Lo' and behold, it was comcastcares5, Mark! I quickly greeted him and then asked him to hold while I hung up with the agent on the other line. When I switched back over, Mark again apologized for the trouble I was having and said he had contacts in my area who could help out. He said he would have someone give me a call today to address the issue. "When can they call me?" I asked. The question seemed to catch Mark by surprise, but hey, I have things to do, and I can't really hang around the house all day! Mark asked, "Where are you located?" (which I found a little strange since he said he knew contacts in my area) I told him we were in California, and when he started speaking again, I heard a strange, high-pitched noise, and we were disconnected. *sigh*

BEEEEEEP - another call coming through on the other line.

Since Mark got disconnected, I switched over, and was surprised to hear Diana's voice. "Diana!" I exclaimed with joy (this was all starting to get a bit amusing to me by now), "I was just on the other line with Mark, but we got disconnected!" "Oh, don't worry about that." she said, "We've been working all this time to solve your problem and..."

BEEEEEEP - Philadelphia on the other line

"That's Mark" I said, "Can you hold please?" She said yes, and I switched back over to Mark. "Mark! Diana's on the other line! She's trying to sort things out." He said, "Take your time," but I didn't really want to have him hanging around waiting, so I said that was OK, I would try to fix things with Diana and e-mail him later.

When I switched back to Diana, she said that the other accounts had been closed and that my account was now current. "Which account would that be?" I asked. After all, it could be any one of the three. She confirmed the account number that I had thought was correct all along (Yay me!), and assured me that the late fees would be reversed and that I would receive correct bills in the future. "I sure hope that's true this time!" I replied, and Diana laughed. I was only half-joking.

So, hopefully all's well that ends well and the problem truly is fixed this time. If not, I'm sure you'll be hearing about it.

Hating Comc@st

2009-08-03T11:03:00.000-07:00

What I've been going through for the past month with Comc@st not only is extremely irritating, it is almost surreal. I mean, how could a company's customer service be THAT bad? Well, it takes a lot of hard work, let me tell you, and Comc@st has gotten it down to an artform.

The saga began when we were notified by our homeowner's association that June 30th would be the last day that they would be covering our cable costs. If we wanted to continue our service, we would have to set up an appointment with Comc@st to have our account transferred over. No problem. We made an appointment and the cable guy came out on July 1st to transfer our service. There were a few glitches with our TiVo, but otherwise the set-up went smoothly. When we signed the paperwork, we noticed that they had the wrong address down (it was actually our neighbor's address, and that house was currently vacant). So we changed the address on the paperwork, the cable guy wrote a brief note and we initialed it. Problem solved, right? Wrong.

A week later, a new neighbor moved in to the previously vacant house and brought over a Comc@st bill that had been delivered to him. Sure enough, it was our account, but they had the wrong address. Complicating matters further, we received another bill for a different account at our address (the previous account from the homeowner's association). We tried to fix this address and billing mix-up with Comc@st over the phone, but they recommended that we go into their regional office to straighten it out. Since we had just purchased an HD TV and needed to upgrade our service anyway, it wasn't too big of an inconvenience to drive to the office and request assistance. We talked to the service lady at the desk, and she assured us that the address and billing problem had been solved.

She was mistaken. A week later, we received another two bills, for both our address and our neighbor's address, and one of them now said we were past due (this was the homeowner's account which had been closed on June 30th). Meanwhile, our new neighbor has been unable to set up his cable service because Comc@st already has our account listed at his address! I called in again and this time spoke with a very nice lady who assured me that the problem was now cleared up and we should be receiving correct bills in the future.

Then she promptly canceled our service.

By this time, I was ready to commit mayhem. Our phones, internet and TV were down and I could only call Comc@st on my cell phone. Which gets terrible reception in the house. So I kept getting disconnected with the Comc@st guy. At one point he said, "Ma'am, I'm having trouble hearing you," which prompted me to shout into the receiver, "That's because you canceled my dang home phone!!!!" Fortunately, I had been cut off by that point and he didn't hear my outburst. After 45 minutes shivereing outside in the cold night air (the only place I could get good cell reception), the Comc@st technician had reinstated my service temporarily and scheduled a cable guy to come to our house on Friday to "verify the equipment" and correct the address.

Friday came along and Comc@st called at 12 pm to confirm the appointment. I did so and verified that they were coming to our address, and not the neighbor's. The service person assured me that it was our address and that the technician would be here within the half hour. 20 minutes later, I see a Comc@st van pull up and a technician go to the neighbor's house. "Effin-ay!!!" I yelled as I ran down the stairs asking Jeff to redirect the guy to the right place (I was not in the right mood to speak to him in a friendly manner). Jeff asked Cable guy if he should be at our address, but he just gave him a blank look and mumbled something incoherent. Then he hung out in his van for about 15 minutes and drove off. When I called Comc@st an hour later to see what had happened to our service guy, they said that the order had been closed. AAARRRGGGHHH!!!!!! I explained, as calmly as I could, that the guy had gone to the wrong house and that they needed to get another technician here TODAY to fix this problem. Around 3 pm, a different cable guy showed up with no idea what he was supposed to do. After Jeff explained the job to him, he verified the equipment, corrected our address and drove away.

When I spoke to a technician on Friday, she said our current balance was $54 and that she would send us a new bill with the correct address immediately. Well, today I got the bill. It is for $449 and includes a $390 one-time service fee. After a brief temper tantrum, I called Comc@st again to find out what the hell was going on. I explained to the poor technician that we have been trying to fix this problem for a month now and that instead of getting fixed, it seems to be getting more and more mixed-up!!! Then I asked her if we still had two accounts under our name and why we were being charged a $390 service fee.

An audible gulp could be heard on the other end of the phone and the woman timidly said, "Ma'am, it looks like there are now three accounts under your name."

"WHAT???!!!" I exclaimed. How could this be???!!! Apparently, the first Comc@st guy who came out on Friday set up a new account under our name at the neighbor's address. That's what he was doing as he sat in his van for 15 minutes. And apparently we were charged $390 for this service.

So today, I am ready to kick @ss and take names! I'm heading down to that Comc@st office with our three accounts in hand to get this mess straightened out once and for all. Wish me luck, because the way things have been going, I think I'm going to need it!

It's too bad I don't have a brick wall nearby. I think banging my head against it would be easier than dealing with Comc@st's "customer service."

***** UPDATE *****

Just got back from the Comc@st office, where I had to wait in a long-@ss line and was again given a blank look by the "customer service" representative. She said she could not help and that there was no supervisor on duty to assist me. She then took copies of my bills, wrote a note and told me that "Credit and Collections" would be contacting me within 48 hours to clear things up.

F@%$#%@K!!!!

Showering Kate with Warm Wishes

2009-08-01T13:39:00.000-07:00

For some time, I've been following the adoption journey of Kate, a blogger friend who has been waiting an extraordinarily long time to bring her d2b (daughter-to-be) home. She's often compared her adoption process to the gestation period of an elephant (which is 2 years), however, her "paper pregnancy" has gone on for much longer. Finally an end is in sight, and Kate is getting close to bringing d2b home.

Since Kate lives in Russia and doesn't have any family near by, a couple of blogger friends threw her an online shower this morning. We were supposed to all post a picture of us eating cake to celebrate the shower, but unfortunately, I was down with a wicked dizzy spell, and I'm afraid my nausea would have made the after-effects of eating cake extremely unpleasant.

So, in honor of Kate and her d2b, here is the slice of cake I would have liked to have eaten: Boston Cream Pie.
Doesn't it look scrumptious?

Kate has taken her blog offline in order to protect the privacy of her adoption hearings. However, once the adoption is final and "d2b" is simply her daughter, I will let you know so that you may follow Kate's journey as a new mother to a precious little girl!

In the meantime I would like Kate to know that all of us here at Four Feet More are sending warm thoughts her way and crossing fingers, toes and eyes in the hopes that her court date comes soon! Best of luck!

Contacting the Birth Family

2009-07-27T12:35:00.000-07:00

As some of you may remember, in March of 2008, we successfully completed a birth family search for our kids. It was amazing to get the photos, video and info on the birth family, and I especially felt that it would be great to keep up a relationship with them as Vika and Eamon get older. And yet here it is, over a year later, and I haven't done anything. I've drafted several letters, but have not had the courage to actually send them out. I guess I'm just a bit conflicted. While the kids' Russian Babushka and Uncle seemed very pleased to see their pictures and learn how they were doing, their Russian Mama seemed mostly sad. I'm not sure how more contact would be received, and I really don't want to cause her additional pain. But then I thought that perhaps having the initial contact, with nothing else afterward might be even more painful than getting another letter and update.

So I am again making contact with the kids' Russian family. I have written a letter (which an acquaintance generously translated for me), both apologizing for the length of time since our last correspondence, and asking the family what kind of contact they would like to have in the future. I figured in this instance, it is best to follow their lead and let them set the pace. I'm also sending photos of the kids and have offered to create a DVD of videos as well (if they are interested).

Hopefully the letter will be well-received and we'll be able to maintain some kind of future relationship with the kids' Russian family. I also hope that the family is still living where they were last year and my feet dragging hasn't cost us the opportunity to regain contact.

Wish us luck.

The Fresh Air Fund

2009-07-26T10:10:00.000-07:00

Usually, I ignore requests from third parties to publicize their organization or product on my blog. However, this time I was contacted by an agency I might actually want to help, if I lived in the right geographical location. So I have decided to give them a little space on this blog in case others out there would be interested in helping as well.*

The Fresh Air Fund, a non-profit agency, is looking for volunteers to serve as a host families for inner-city children this summer. They are particularly in need of host families for August. The goal of the Fresh Air Fund is to provide summer vacation experiences for children from low-income communities in New York City. These are children who otherwise might not be able to have the experience of lazing around by a lake-shore, playing on the beach, or taking a trek through the woods. If you are interested (and live in New England or Virigina), please check out their website here.

* I am not receiving any payment to advertise this agency. Just in case you were wondering.

My First Little Man

2009-07-24T12:33:00.000-07:00

This is Rupert (with our brown tabby, Oona laying on top of him). Rupert Guaca Molay, to be precise. He came to our family when he was just 2 days old, eyes still closed and umbilical cord still attached. I was working in a Pet Hospital at the time, and a whole litter of newborn kittens was brought in, huddled together in a little shoebox. Six other employees and I each took one home, to bottle feed and eventually adopt out. Of the seven kittens, Rupert is the only one who survived. This is not due to my superior cat-raising skills, I assure you. The whole litter was just not healthy, and I think that Rupert may have been the strongest of the lot.

I remember those early days, waking up at all hours of the night to bottle feed this scruffy looking white kitten with a yellow stain on his back. He would scream out with a squeaky meow and would knead the air (we call it “making biscuits”) while I fed him. In fact, the only thing other than food that kept him quiet in those days was music by Sting. Go figure.

This little cat, despite his various anomalies, began to thrive and grow. The yellow stain on his back became a silver/gray patch that wound up extending to cover his head, half his face and his tail (which is striped, like a tabby’s). His eyes developed into a clear blue color, and his back legs grew to be much longer than his front, giving him a bit of a hot-rod-like appearance. People who met him would say, “Man, that is a freaky looking cat!” But I thought he was handsome, and when it came time to adopt him out, I decided that it would be better if he stayed with me instead.

And so he has been a member of our family for 14 years. He chirps in pleasure when I say his name and if I scratch him just right on the back of his neck, he starts grooming himself manically. He loves to play with the tabs you pull off the top of a bottle of milk, and will even mock fight you for them (his growling used to crack my brother up. The two of them engaged in many mock-milk-top-battles).

As Rupert has gotten older, his medical problems have increased. First it was feline acne, which would cause his face to swell up most unbecomingly. Then feline asthma was added to the mix, making him wheeze and cough like an old man. A few years ago he was diagnosed with mega-colon, a condition that causes him to get blocked up and requires daily medication (a laxative) with his food to keep the plumbing working properly.

Another medical blow was delivered last week. About a month ago, Rupert's back foot began to swell up. At first I thought it was a bug bite. He’s had swelling reactions to those before, and usually some oral Prednisone helps them go away. But this time it didn’t work. Then I began soaking the foot and prodding around to see if there was a bite wound or some other injury. I could find nothing, but the foot continued to swell. Friday, I took Rupert in to the vet and got the bad news. Rupert has a tumor on his back foot. While it’s pretty big and ugly, it doesn't seem to be giving him any pain. He's not limping, he doesn't flinch when I touch his foot, and he's eating and playing around normally. We don't know if the tumor is malignant or not, but pretty much the only treatment is to amputate the foot. Which there is no way in hell I am going to do. Rupert is 14 years old, and the thought of him going through the pain of an amputation and living out his remaining few years with a missing foot just seems wrong. Plus, if it is cancer, he'd have to go through chemo in addition to the amputation, which would be even worse. I just can’t see putting him through that, especially given all his other medical conditions. For now, he is his usual happy self, playing, eating and drinking normally, with an enlarged back foot. I guess we'll reassess if it starts to cause him pain, but until then, I'm going to let things ride. Hopefully the tumor is benign and will stay localized, adding to his freakish appearance while not being life-threatening. Only time will tell.

You Capture - Black & White

2009-07-23T00:38:00.000-07:00

This week's You Capture theme was black and white, which I loved for vain reasons. Simply put, I look better in black and white. But, since I'm not vain enough to put a bunch of photos of myself up here, I wasn't quite sure what to photograph at first. Then I went through my photos from our recent beach trip. My two best friends and extended family were there to celebrate a birthday, and the weather was beautiful (not always the case at a Northern California beach). We made the most of the sunshine until the afternoon fog rolled in, and we all had to bundle up in our warm clothes.

Here I am with my two best friends, James and Mel. We were very color-coordinated that day, and it was entirely unplanned. I guess that's what happens when people hang together for too long - they start dressing the same (even though they couldn't be more different in other ways).

Vix and Eames on the beach. We have a photo similar to this one from their first summer home with us. I always call it "A Study in Contrast" because Vika looks so dark and Eamon looks so pale! At least this time the boy's got a bit of a tan, so he doesn't look as washed out next to Vika.

This is Mel's daughter, Madi. Or as I call her, Mad. This girl is cute as a button and more trouble than a fox in a hen-house. She saw another child's sand castle and gleefully smashed every single tower with her dainty little hands. Luckily it had been abandoned, so the architect of the castle did not have to witness its destruction.

And finally, here's Mel's son, Chadly. It was his birthday we were celebrating. The little guy turned 4 and was terribly happy to have his party at the beach. It's hard to believe that this boy, who puked on me as a baby (and was quickly put back into his mother's arms to clean up), is now in preschool. Time sure flies. At least Vika has given up her idea of one day marrying Chad - she has decided that it would be unseemly to have a husband 4 years younger. So now the plan is for Eamon to marry Mad. God help him!

Did you participate this week? Click here to see what other people captured.

A Bad Day

2009-07-20T08:40:00.001-07:00

Sometimes kids with traumatic backgrounds, like mine, find it difficult to deal with too many good things happening at once. They do a form of "sabotaging" with their actions, making life chaotic or unhappy. I think this is because they lived so long with chaos and unhappiness that it has become almost comfortable to them now. They think that the good times can't possibly last, and by sabotaging, they feel a bit more in control of when the good times end.

Such is the case with Vika (although she has gotten better). On Saturday, Vika had a big day. Mom and Ed took her on a birthday shopping spree and then they went to lunch at Texas Roadhouse (Vika loves ribs). Afterward, she and I went to the Kenny Chesney concert with Laurie. That was a lot of fun by the way. Kenny puts on a really good show and so did Lady Antebellum. We were surrounded by girls in Daisy Dukes and cowboy boots. In San Francisco, on the bay at night. I was more than a little amused to see those same girls shivering in the cold night air. But at least they looked cute! ;) When Kenny made his entrance (on a type of chair which swung above the audience on cables), Vika's eyes lit up. She stood on her chair and danced, a happy smile brightening her face. The three of us had a great time, and Vika chatted happily as we walked back to the car later that night (we left a bit early because the other concert-goers were getting very drunk, and I didn't want to leave the parking lot at the same time they did). It was a great bonding experience, and we agreed that Vika and I need to do Girls' Night Out more often.

Then yesterday, everything went to hell. Vika woke up grumpy and irritable. She refused to do her morning chores (making bed, brushing teeth, etc.) and pretty much fought us all day long. She yelled at me, calling me rude for asking her to sort her dirty laundry. She deliberately ignored me when I asked her to clean up the toothpaste she smeared on the bathroom counter. And when I asked her if she was going to clean her room, she looked at me with raised eyebrows and said, "No!" All in all, we had an extremely uncooperative little girl. So Jeff and I decided to be uncooperative right back and even ignore her requests, just to show her what it was like. When she asked me for something, I responded, "I have a little girl who has shown me that words are not important" and then I would go back to my task. When lunchtime came, she had to make her own (to get a rise out of me, she had 3 plates full of Lays Potato Chips - I did not take the bait, but did say that I hoped they didn't give her a stomach ache).

After some time of this, Jeff and I talked a bit with Vika about how words and cooperation are important, especially in a family. She continued her downward spiral and went outside, crying and saying how she wishes she wasn't in our family. Jeff and I both kept our calm, and her drama mostly played out. Eamon and I went to my mom's house and Vika stayed home with Jeff to finish cleaning her room (she had kind of decided that she was going to cooperate by this time).

A couple hours later, Eamon and I returned home, and Vika came running down the stairs, all smiles to greet us. She said she had cleaned her room and showed me the nails she had painted with her new pedicure kit (hot pink with white flowers). I noticed that there was a blue stain on her shirt and hands, but didn't have time to ask her about it before she ran upstairs with Eamon. However, a couple minutes later, she came back down, complaining that her stomach was hurting really bad. I thought it was all the potato chips she had for lunch, but then noticed the blue stain again and saw some blue around her mouth. In growing alarm I asked, "Vika, what else did you eat? What made your mouth all blue?"

It turns out that she had made a "scientific concoction", using the Cool Blue kids Listerene in the bathroom, some water and chalk, and had drank 1/3 of a cup of it. I ran upstairs and quickly retrieved the bottle which said to call Poison Control immediately and seek medical attention if more than a little bit is swallowed. Hands shaking in panic, I sat a crying Vika down by the toilet while Jeff called Poison Control. They asked questions such as was she still breathing and conscious (yes), was she vomiting (no), and how long ago did she drink the Listerene (about 10 minutes). The dispatcher at Poison Control sent an ambulance and within 2 minutes our dining room was filled with paramedics and firefighters examining Vika and checking her vital signs. They seemed a bit amused by the situation, which lessened my panic somewhat and helped calm us down (poor Eamon had been pacing the floor saying, "I don't like this Mama!"). After reading the ingredients in the bottle and hanging with Vika for a while, the paramedics felt it was OK for her to stay at home and get some rest. If she began vomiting or her condition seemed to worsen, we were to call them back or take her to the hospital for further attention.

It was a dramatic climax to an awful day for Vika. Her stomach still hurting, Vika laid down and I sat by her, torn between wanting to give comfort and wanting to scold her for doing something so stupid! We have had many family talks about how you "don't drink what's under the sink," and when we got the Children's Listerene specifically, we had another discussion about how you don't swallow it. So, although I decided to offer comfort instead of scolding, I was more than a little angry at my daughter. Vika looked up at me with sad eyes and said, "I don't ever want to leave this family! And I don't want to die."

Perhaps this was the "Significant Emotional Event" that will encourage Vix to start to change her behavior. So far this morning she's been a bit more cooperative, and I know it will be an ongoing process for many more years. But if something good came out of last night's poisoning scare, I'll take it!

A Busy Week

2009-07-18T11:18:00.000-07:00

It's been pretty crazy over here at Four Feet More. First off, Vika has turned 8 years old. I know! My little girl is now 8! She's moving into that preteen phase and is growing up way too fast. For her birthday this year, she asked for (and received) a pair of texting devices. This was her second choice after we told her there was no way she was getting a cell phone at 8 years old. On the up-side, the texters are Hello Kitty, and Vika wanted them primarily to text with me, so she's still my little girl. For a while, anyway.

My dad came out to visit from Tennessee again this summer and was here for Vika's birthday. It's become a bit of an annual event - him coming out in July. The kids enjoyed hanging out with their "Deydushka Joe," and it was good for him to meet my brother's baby Tyson as well. Even though my dad doesn't really do kids, he was pretty tolerant of Eamon's excessive manhandling and Vika's incessant chatter. He may have even enjoyed it to some extent. I think.

So, Vika is now 8, going on 18. She also, much to my dismay, loves country music. I blame my mother for this, and she gleefully takes responsibility for my daughter's crushes on Brad Paisley and Jason Aldean. Well, in an extreme show of love for my daughter, I am going to subject myself to 6 hours straight of country music this evening. Laurie, a close family friend (kind of a sister-in-law, really), managed to score us free tickets to see Kenny Chesney and Sugarland in San Francisco tonight. It's actually a big country music festival with other acts like Lady Antebelem, Miranda Lambert, and Montgomery Gentry. Whoever they are. So, Vika, Laurie and I are doing a Girls' Night Out, and I plan to get schooled in country. Hopefully Vika will have a great time and this will be a fitting finale to her birthday week!

You Capture - Independence Day & Food

2009-07-09T08:09:00.000-07:00

Independence Day Decorations

Our You Capture assignment this week, handed down by Beth at I should be Folding Laundry, was Independence Day and food. This year we went to a 4th of July Festival which included a chili cook-off. My SIL's band was playing, so we were able to hang with Joe and Ty, and Mom and Ed for some music and dancing. There was a strange hula hoop woman dancing all by herself in front of the stage. Well, I use the term "dancing" loosely, since she was really hula hooping and swaying to the music. Wearing a long orange print skirt and a black tank-top, her gray hair in a bun, she looked more like someone who would be attending a Grateful Dead concert rather than getting down to "Pokerface" sung by a party band. But there she was, having a great old time.

Ty's cool socks (he was just chillin', watching all the dancers)

The benefit of having hula-hoop lady there was that she let the kids use some of her extra hoops. That was all the encouragement Eamon needed. He got into one of those hoops and twirled until the music ended! And, though I've mentioned it before, I need to reiterate, that boy can hula hoop! I can't twirl the things worth a damn, but Eamon has some mad skilz! I think he impressed quite a few people (especially me). Between band sets, there were also some games, and the kids entered a water balloon toss competition. Alas, their time in the game was too short, as Eamon dropped the first toss Vika chucked at him.

Eamon rockin' the hula hoop

Vika sizes up the balloon toss competition

When the show was over, we went to the chili cook-off where we ate tiny samples and voted on the one we liked best. Some of them were good, but others were entirely too spicy! The firemen had some chili that was insanely hot. Like, not even enjoyable hot. A few hours later, we were all feeling that chili, and not in a good way either. I think next year we'll skip the sampling.

This stand actually had pretty good chili

The firefighters' chili, being stirred with an axe handle

After the festival, we headed to the cemetery to visit the grave of Jeff's parents. There were flags lined up everywhere, honoring the day, and it was very peaceful. Until Eamon said, "There sure are a lot of dead people here!" A quick explanation about sensitivity and loss followed, and then we were on our way.

Flags in a row at the cemetery

Under a flag, looking up

The 4th of July tradition for our family has been to go to my mom's place (where fireworks are legal) and shoot off some street fireworks. The driveway is lined with chairs, where we all sit, oohhhing and aaahhhhing at the display, ususally while eating some All-American Dessert (this year it was blueberry cobbler). The kids also love to play in the street with sparklers, drawing pictures and their names in the night sky. A little extra excitement was added this year when my brother lit some fireworks he had brought back with him from Tennessee. Unfortunately, these were not the legal kind, which we quickly realized as they shot explosions high into the air. We all had a bit of a freak-out moment, sure the police were going to drive up an issues us a heavy fine along wiht a stern lecture about fire safety. Lucky for us though, the other, for more dangerous illgeal fireworks being shot off around the city kept them too occupied to visit our measly display.

Street fireworks

Vix and Eames posing in front of the fireworks

A sparkly finale

We had a great Independence Day, making memories and hanging with family. I hope your holiday was just as much fun.

Check out the memories that other people captured!

Splish Splash

2009-07-06T09:50:00.000-07:00

There's no real way to sugar-coat this, but the kids are driving me insane! Sure, I enjoy spending time with them, but all those Summer projects I planned on doing... well between, "Mama, what's for snack?" and "Mama, Eamon's not getting out of my room when I asked him to!" and "Mama, can we watch TV?", not a lot of projects are getting done. So, when Mel invited us to play at a new park in her area, I jumped at the chance (even though it's more than an hour drive away). Anything to get the kids running around, and hopefully exhausted, so that I can have a little quiet time to myself later. Being able to hang with my best friends, Mel and James, was an added bonus!

Eamon & Vika running through the park with Chadley

My good friend James, who's getting married in October.

Vika splashing in a puddle (shot inspired by Catheroo)

Toothless grin

Eamon's "tough guy" pose. Are you intimidated?

You Capture - Photographer's Choice

2009-07-01T23:02:00.000-07:00

Since I had my choice for this week's You Capture, and because the 4th of July is right around the corner, I decided to capture the symbol of our nation's Independence, the American flag. For most of my life, Independence day has meant BBQs, fireworks, and summer memories with the family. However, after teaching 5th grade (where we study American History), I've acquired a bit of a different perspective on the holiday. Reading about the great men and women who fought for America's independence from Britain, their trials and victories, has made this holiday and our flag mean so much more.

John Adams said in a letter to his wife Abigail (of the original Independence Day - which was actually July 2, 1776), "I am apt to believe that it will be celebrated by succeeding generations as the great anniversary festival." It's kind of cool to know that his prediction came true, even if he was off by 2 days. I wonder what he would think about the various ways the holiday is celebrated and our flag is depicted today (on clothing and home decor, for example)?

Another piece of American trivia for you: Both John Adams and Thomas Jefferson died on July 4, 1826 - 50 years to the day from the birth of the country they helped found. Isn't that an interesting coincidence?

OK, I'll let my teacher side slip for now and show you the photos.

Happy 4th of July (3 days early)!

My standard summer flip-flops

That Star Spangled Banner yet waves....

Go check out what other people captured at I Should Be Folding Laundry!

Family Planning

2009-06-28T19:31:00.001-07:00

Below is a brief excerpt from a discussion around the dinner table this evening.

Eamon: When I grow up, there's gonna be 7 people in my house! 2 grown ups and (counting quickly on his fingers) 5 kids. But we'll need a bigger house with more rooms.

Vika: Not me! First, I'm gonna have one kid, and if that one's annoying, that's it! But if not, I'll have another kid, and if that one's annoying, no more! (throwing a superior look in Eamon's direction).

Eamon: What?! I like kids!!!

It's nice to see they're figuring these things out early in life.

Summertime, and the livin's easy

2009-06-26T08:03:00.000-07:00

School's been out for a week now, and finally I feel as if I'm beginning to relax. That anxious feeling that I have to grade papers or prepare lesson plans is gone and I'm getting into the rhythm of being home with the kids during the day. A few updates from my summer so far:

I may be a Trekkie. I saw the new Star Trek movie on Mother's Day (and again since then), and absolutely loved it. I've always been more of a Star Wars fan than Star Trek, but I enjoyed the movie so much that I've begun watching episodes from the original series on Netflix. And let me tell you, they are HILARIOUS (probably not intentionally so, but that's besides the point). Seriously, if you have some time, you should check them out. "The Enemy Within" from Season 1 has some especially smashing acting from William Shattner (and I mean that literally) as well as an extraordinary space dog (some poor mutt in a shag carpet with dixie straw antennas).

Lately, Vika is asking me to do her hair "like Uhura's" and Eamon wants his hair to be like Bones'. So I may be making my kinds into Trekkies too. Poor things. They don't really stand a chance. I'm making them into geeks already!

Tomorrow we are going to see the King Tut exhibit in San Francisco. My parents visited it in San Francisco back in the 70's, and I remember as a child looking through the King Tut picture book they bought, amazed at all the treasures and the story of the boy king. I tried to see the exhibit in Chicago a couple years back, but tickets were sold out. So we bought our tickets for this one way in advance and are planning to take the kids (I hope they aren't bored out of their minds). We're going to see the exhibit on the same day as the Gay Pride Parade in San Francisco, so I hope it's not too crazy there. Nevertheless, I don't think we'll take public transportation. Seeing a grown man with his bare bottom peeking out of backless leather chaps is not an image that the kids need to have burned into their brains at this young age. ;)

For your enjoyment, and in honor of the occasion, I give you King Tut. Have a great weekend!

Walking Stick Woes

2009-06-20T10:58:00.000-07:00

On the last day of school (which was Wednesday - YAY!), I agreed to watch another teacher's pet walking stick, Sharpie. In his brief life, Sharpie has suffered a lot of trauma, and... well... to make a long story short, he now only has 5 legs.

But Sharpie's a little trooper, and I agreed to "bugsit" the stick, thinking it would be fun for Vika and Eamon.

I was wrong. Vika immediately tipped over Sharpie's enclosure, dumping his log and lettuce everywhere. Luckily, he was clinging to the grate at the top of his pen and didn't really seem to notice. But ever since, I've been a bit stressed about injuring (or killing) the already disabled insect. I've put him up on a shelf, out of reach of both child and cat, and am just hoping for the best.

This morning, as I went to check on the insect, I saw what appeared to be a shriveled up, quite dead, stick bug laying on the log.

"Oh my God, I killed Sharpie!" I cried out, panic setting in and plans quickly forming in my mind of where I could find another five-legged walking stick to replace this one.

When I opened the lid to investigate, there was Sharpie, hanging from his usual place on the grate, wondering what all the fuss was about.

Apparently, walking sticks shed their skin. So, the shriveled up bug was actually an old epidermis my little friend no longer needed.

Friggin' insect!

Science Camp

2009-06-14T20:43:00.000-07:00

Ah, camp. That childhood rite of passage, which I did not experience until last week, at the ripe old age of 35. Every year, the fifth graders at our school go to Science Camp. As a teacher, I was also required to go to camp, and despite my dislike of camping in general, I had a good time. It was great seeing our fifth graders in a whole new light, experiencing things they had never encountered before. One student in particular, R, is a bully on campus and spends A LOT of time in the office. But at camp, R really blossomed! He conquered his fear of heights, worked well as part of a "survival team," and even showed impeccable manners at the dinner table! R comes from a poor, Hispanic family and had never even been in the woods before this trip. I hope it made an impression on him and he learned what a great kid he truly is.

Another interesting part of the trip was T, a girl whom I taught in first grade, but thankfully is in another classroom for fifth grade. T has oppositional defiant disorder (ODD). If you don't know what that is, look it up - it's very interesting. T was in my group, and she hit the ground digging in her heels. We started off with wilderness survival skills and a lesson on using a compass. T refused to differentiate between the arrows on the compass, and despite the intervention of several parents, she maintained her stance that the spinning arrow was the one she should follow. It was actually kind of amusing to watch parent after parent try to coax and persuade T to use the compass correctly. Finally, I intervened saying, "T, if that's the way you want to use the compass, go ahead. Of course, you may get lost in the woods, but I'm sure we'll be loud enough that you'll find us eventually!"

After that, T pretty much gave up the compass fight.

Then it became all about not stepping on any plants because either they were poisonous or she didn't want to hurt them (it's pretty hard to avoid plants in a forest). Or she wouldn't climb over a log because there was a single ant on it. Finally, all the parents caught on to her game, and it became a bit of a joke among us as to how T would react to each new situation. If the camp counselor asked everyone to sit down, T stood up. When she asked us to stand up, T sat down. Finally the counselor took me aside and said, "What is WITH that girl?!"

T wasn't the only stresser of the trip though. There was also the usual fifth grade girl drama, which for some reason, I became the mediator for. "Mrs. P, N is trying to steal my friends!" Or, "Mrs. P, I need to move out of that dorm because none of the girls are talking to me! They're all mad at me for some reason!" *sigh* It was exhausting! I don't think the girls appreciated the advice I gave them either, which was basically, "This is why when I was your age, I hung out with boys!" Oh well, my pearls of wisdom only go so far.

There were some great times at camp too. The highlight of the trip for most of us was the High Ropes course. We were put into harnesses and had to climb what looked like a telephone pole. About 40 feet up, we could cross over either a log bridge with nothing to hold on to, or a tightrope with two rope hand rails. I chose the log bridge. Climbing up was a little nerve-wracking, but apparently, I did it pretty fast because the adults in the group were yelling out that I should go work for the telephone company doing maintenance on the lines. Then I had to step away from the pole and on to the log bridge. This is where my heart dropped and I felt truly scared. Maneuvering my body around with nothing to hold on to, that high up in the air, was slightly terrifying. But I did it, and then set to walking across the log. I put my "Survivor" fandom to good use, channeling my inner "Ozzy," and walked across the log as if I was in a race for immunity. Then I was hooked into a zip line and flew down off the crow's nest and across a large field, to the cheers of my students. It was definitely a moment to remember!

Maybe I'll go along as a chaperon when Vika and Eamon go to Science Camp. I'd love to see them cruising down that zip line!

You Capture - Nature

2009-06-10T06:28:00.000-07:00

Recently I discovered "You Capture" (Thanks Saj!), a weekly photo challenge from Beth at I Should Be Folding Laundry. Long-time readers of this blog may remember when I used to participate in "Stuff Portrait Fridays." That challenge has long-since ended, so with the summer here, I decided to recharge the Nikon and begin shooting images for "You Capture."

This week's challenge was "Nature." An easy one to jump in on, especially since we've taken quite a few hikes lately. Also, since I'm heading off to Science Camp with my 5th graders today (wish me luck), it seemed quite appropriate.

The first image comes courtesy of my husband Jeff (a true photographer - I just play at it). It's a dragonfly we encountered during a trip through Golden Gate Park in San Francisco.

Next are a couple of shots I took while on a hike in a local wildlife preserve with Vika and Eamon. Here we have the ever-present California Poppy. I love the Spring, when these orange blossoms are popping up all over the place!

As we hiked along the trail, we heard a hawk call in the distance. The bird began circling closer and closer until finally he was directly above us. The kids were very impressed since they'd never seen a hawk that close before. I'm just pleased the shot came out clear!

So there you have my images of nature. What did you capture?

A Piece of String

2009-06-07T17:15:00.000-07:00

Jeff has his brilliant moments. Often he will come up with little demonstrations to get a certain point across to the kids, and he does it in a way that I wold never have thought of, but which makes perfect sense.

Such an occurrence happened this morning. We've had reoccurring issues with bossiness and aggression in our household. Usually Vika is bossy to Eamon, and he reacts aggressively. After repeated instances of this yesterday, and Jeff and I (unsuccessfully) instructing the kids to solve their problems in a nicer way, we finally decided that a family meeting was called for.

Once the breakfast dishes were cleared, Jeff began telling the kids about how some people "push" to try to get what they want, and others "pull." What we have been seeing in our house is Vika pushing Eamon with angry words and body language, and Eamon pushing back with angry words and physical contact. Jeff and I both explained how when you "push" at something or someone, you are making it go farther away from you. Then Jeff talked about gently pulling to get what you want. By using kind words and smiles, you can bring people closer to you. I made a comment about honey attracting more bees than vinegar, which earned me blank stares from both Vika and Eamon. Jeff rolled his eyes and then pulled the kids' attention back to him with a simple piece of string.

"Watch" he said, as he laid it out on the table in a nice straight line. As Vika and Eamon looked on, riveted, he demonstrated what happens when you try to "push" something to do what you want. He pushed the string with his finger, and it crumpled up on itself, moving farther away in an untidy mess. Then he said, "But look what happens when you pull gently." Jeff grabbed the end of the string, and gently pulled it towards him. It moved in a straight line, going whichever direction he wanted it to take. The kids ooooohh'd and aaahhhh'd at this, seeing in a whole new way what we've been trying to tell them for years.

Not to be completely outdone, I asked, "Papa, what happens if you pull the string hard, instead of gently?" Vika and Eamon turned back to watch as Jeff jerked on the string, making it crumple up again and fall half off the table. "The key," I added, "is to pull gently." Jeff gave Vix and Eames their own piece of string to play with (much to their delight), and they experimented with pulling and pushing their twine for a few minutes.

As we left today to go on a hike, I noticed that Vika had her piece of string tied to her belt loop and Eamon carried his in his pants pocket. Maybe this demonstration made a bigger impression that I thought? Hopefully Jeff's lesson is something that will stick with them for a while and maybe even encourage them to change their pushy ways.

Down with Done with BTSA!

2009-06-01T17:49:00.000-07:00

It's done. I have finally completed my BTSA (Beginning Teacher Support and Assessment) program!

I've actually had a bone to pick with the whole BTSA thing since I began the program last year. Why is so much time and money spent to re-teach teachers what they already learned in their university credential programs? And why did I have to lug around and complete the paperwork contained in a 4-inch thick binder, only to have the BTSA office (who gave me the binder and paperwork in the first place) say, "Oh, we don't need to see that!" I've been compiling that data for 2 years!!! You're darn well gonna see it, and you'll "ooohhh" and "ahhhh" in all the appropriate places, thankyouverymuch.

Today was the last step in the two-year BTSA process. I had to go for a formal exit interview in front of a panel, where I was expected to explain my teaching practices, show growth over time, and provide student work to serve as evidence of my status as a "highly qualified educator." I carefully prepared my responses, typing notes and selecting student work that I felt would wonderfully illustrate the teaching practices I was explaining. I spent 2 years collecting this student work, much of which went into the binder the BTSA people so cavalierly tossed aside. I also took the day off to prepare for my interview this afternoon and make any last minute tweaks to my responses.

Then I learned that "everyone passes" the interview. Which begs the question, "Why the hell do I have to do it then?" If everyone passes, what's the point of even conducting these interviews? *sigh* It is probably just another box for the BTSA people to check off their list.

Well, at least now all my boxes are checked and I can send payment to the state of California to clear my teaching credential. Just in time to be laid off due to state budget cuts. Yippee.

P.S. I don't mean to sound bitter, but I might be. Just a little.

Open letter to our neighbor, who may or may not have OCD

2009-05-25T12:22:00.000-07:00

I realize you did not move in under circumstances that would have predisposed us to a long and lasting friendship. The previous inhabitants of your house, S and her two daughters, were good friends of ours and frequently invited us over for some excellent Indian food. Sadly, due to these tough economic times, they lost their home and were forced to move out. Our whole family was saddened by this turn of events, but I assure you we did not hold S’s loss against you.

What we do hold against you however, is the unwarranted use of your car’s horn.

Why must you honk your horn repeatedly throughout the day? And not just once, but in three short bursts: Beep! Beep! Beep! I know that this is probably your car alarm sound, but why must you activate it so often? Are you checking to make sure that your car is still there? Because, really, you could just look out your window and get the same results without disturbing any of your neighbors. What I find even harder to understand is why you go outside, look at your car, and then press the alarm button (Beep! Beep! Beep!), before walking back inside the house. Do you need to make sure the alarm still works? Because it was working fine 10 minutes ago when you last activated the triple horn, and I don’t think much has changed since then.

So, maybe you do have OCD. I can understand that and even sympathize with the anxiety you must feel when you do not hear your car go “Beep! Beep! Beep!” However, is it possible that you could confine your OCD to civilized hours? Honking your horn at 11:30 pm on a Sunday evening is bad enough, but doing it again at 1:25 am is just plain excessive. For goodness sake, I’m trying to sleep and your car is parked almost right below my bedroom window!

Please, I beg you, stop activating your car alarm, unless you are getting into or out of your car. If this reckless use of a car horn persists, I may be forced to commit automobilicide. Or at the very least, do a covert horn-deactivation mission in the middle of the night. Of course, with my luck, I’d be under your car, fiddling with wires when you came out to check your alarm (yet again) and would probably wind up deaf or seriously injured as a result. Could you please just save us all that trouble and cease the honking? On behalf of myself and all your neighbors, I’d like to thank you in advance for your kind attention to this matter.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Crap. There you go again…..

That's My Girl!

2009-05-21T19:10:00.000-07:00

As long-time readers of this blog know, Vika's always been pretty direct and to the point. She doesn't try to sugar-coat anything, and she definitely knows who she is. This was illustrated perfectly on Mother's Day. Jeff, the kids and I were having brunch with my mom & Ed and my brother Joe's family at a local restaurant. Vix had to use the ladies room and asked that I accompany her. So off we went, to wait in the inevitable line that always seems to lurk just inside the bathroom door.

As we entered, we almost bumped the last woman standing in line. Vika and I both apologized, and the woman (whom I'll call Stacy, because that's what she looked like) began giggling and immediately forgave us. Then she looked at Vika and said, "What a cute little girl!" Vix immediately grabbed my hand and pressed closer to my side (she gets nervous sometimes when strangers talk about her), at which point Stacy looked from Vika to me and excalimed, "Oh! Is she yours?" Her eyes darted between the two of us, clearly confused by the difference in our coloring. I smiled and said, "Yep! She sure is!" Stacy's confusion grew and she began stumbling over her words: "Wow... I mean, she's got such dark skin and you're... well, her father must be... Um...." At this point, Vika decided to clear things up. "I'm adopted," she said. Stacy began giggling some more and responded, "No you're not!" As if Vika was trying to pull one over on her. Biting back a laugh I smiled and said, "Actually yes, she is." "I'm from Russia!" Vika added.

Poor Stacy didn't know what to make of this, so she simply said, "Oh! I'm sorry!"

"Don't be!" I replied. "We're not."

In an effort to make the woman feel more at ease (but actually only making her discomfort worse), Vika went on to explain, "Both my brother and me are adopted from Russia. We have the same mother there, but different fathers." This rendered Stacy completely speechless, and her relief when a stall opened up was obvious. After she rushed in and locked the door, I laughed quietly, hugged Vika and said, "Dude, you're AWESOME!"

Vika shrugged her shoulders and said, "What? We're from Russia!" like it was no big deal. That put a smile on my face for the rest of the day. I love that both Vika and Eamon are so matter of fact about their adoption and don't see it as a source of shame. Hopefully that attitude will continue throughout their lives, and they'll always feel a little special that they were chosen to be a part of our family. And, if they do a little educating of people like Stacy along the way, more power to them!

Guilty Pleasures

2009-05-17T09:17:00.001-07:00

I was driving home from work the other day, and a song came on the radio that I secretly love. I immediately rolled up my windows so that no one else would hear the music coming from my car, and covertly sang along during the times I was alone on the road. A part of me was disappointed that it wasn't dark out because then I could sing a long to my heart's content and no one would notice!

This got me thinking about my "guilty pleasures" - the things I love, but really wish I didn't. I like to flatter myself that I have better taste than this, but apparently, I don't. Then it occurred to me that I am 35, for crying out loud, and really should just get over it. I mean, at this point my "cool cover" has pretty much been blown, and it's not like I have anything to lose, right?

So, here's my list of guilty pleasures. Feel free to mock me at will. I can take it. ;)

Songs:

"I want it that way" by The Backstreet Boys I'm not a fan of boy bands in general. They are too manufactured and pretty for my taste. But there is something about this song that makes me want to turn up the radio and sing along every single time.

"Hit Me Baby One More Time" by Britney Spears. Despite all the insane head-shaving, child-endangering antics of recent years, I still love this song.

"Date Rape" by Sublime. The title of this alone makes we want to hate it, but "Date Rape" is the song that got me into Sublime back in college. It's so wrong, but the way the victim takes control and the rapist gets his due, all to the tune of upbeat ska music, is brilliant.

Books:

Lisa Kleypas' "Wallflower" series. I know they are trashy romance (or as we joking refer to them in my house - "throbbing member" books) but I still enjoy them. And I'm happy to say that the words "throbbing member" or "creamy thighs" are not used once in any of these books.

Movie:

"A Knight's Tale" with Heath Ledger. From the opening scene where medieval peasants and nobles are pounding out "We Will Rock You" at a jousting match to the celebration dance where the knights and their ladies get funky to "Golden Years" by David Bowie, this movie makes no attempt to stay true to period. Usually this bugs me in a film, but "A Knight's Tale" makes it work in some strange way. Plus, Paul Bettanty as Chaucer has some of the best lines ever. (Ha! Didn't know that Geoffrey Chaucer used to follow around jousting tournaments as a herald, did ya? Or that this is how he got the idea to write "The Knight's Tale" in Canterbury Tales. See, "A Knight's Tale" taught you something new. Even if it's not true.)

TV Shows:

"Survivor" - It's been on forever now, and things play out in familiar ways each season, but I still find the interactions between contestants highly entertaining. Except for Coach, who's been on this season. Every time he speaks, I feel irritated and want to hurl my remote control at the TV! Yet I can't look away. I want to see him get called out so badly that I keep watching.

"I love the 80's" or "I love the 90's"or any retrospective show on VH1 really. I generally start watching these shows as "background noise" while I'm cleaning, but soon I am sucked in and cleaning only during the commercials. Nostalgia does it to me every time.

There they are. Just a few of the things that I am embarrassed to admit that I love. What are your guilty pleasures?

Amazon.com Widgets

Posts have been thin on the ground lately

2009-05-13T07:36:00.000-07:00

Sorry about that. I've been terribly busy at school and more than a little stressed out about the uncertainty of my future employment. Open House was last night, which is one big thing out of the way. It went well, and many parents expressed dismay that I wasn't going to be returning next year. Now I just have a colloquium and exit interview for BTSA (the program to clear my teaching credential), Science Camp, final report cards and packing up my classroom before I'm on Summer Break!

On the job front, a nearby district is hiring teachers, so I've put in an application. Hopefully I'll get an interview, despite what is likely to be huge competition from other teachers laid off in my district. I'm also looking at jobs outside of classroom education, so we'll see what happens.

The job search has raised an important question in my mind, and maybe some of you can help me out with this. What do parents who work basic 9-5 jobs do with their kids during school breaks? Suggestions?

Something to look forward to

2009-05-06T08:46:00.000-07:00

This past year has been a difficult one at school. In addition to the budget cuts and the knowledge that I most likely won't have a job next year is the increased work-load heaped upon us by the district. Just the other day we all received books for a new art program which we are supposed to implement somewhere in our already packed schedules. It's really hard to stay motivated and positive, but I'm doing my best for the sake of my students.

It's been a hard year for Jeff too. As a real estate broker during the current economic crisis, deals have been pretty thin. Add to that the fact that he has to make three trips to the kids' school each day (Eamon is a "late-bird" and therefore starts school 3 hours after Vika), and it seems that Jeff has had little or no free time since September.

The kids see our stress and exhaustion and I'm sure they're feeling it too. So, even though we don't have a huge amount of disposable income, it's clear that we all need a vacation this summer. But where could we get away from it all without spending a lot of money. The answer may surprise you: Walt Disney World.

At the risk of raising Kate's anti-Disney ire, I have to say that I absolutely LOVE both Disneyland and Disney World. I grew up taking road trips from Arizona to Disneyland, and the park is the highlight of many childhood memories. However, in recent years, we've gone to Disney World more than Dinseyland - even though it's on the other side of the country. There's one simple reason for this: the food. Jeff and I are foodies, and Disney World offers much more in the way of dining than Disneyland. The Animal Kingdom Lodge is home to one of our favorite restaurants, Boma, at which you can sample African dishes such as bobotie, fufu and cocomisu (probably not really African, but still good). Epcot also offers samples of cuisine from all over the world, which we enjoy despite the fact that much of it is "Disneyfied." Since I am on a personal mission to both give my kids wonderful childhood Disney memories and have them grow into foodies like their parents, Dinsey World is always on my list of potential vacation spots.

The last time we went, in September of 2006, we were able to get the free dining plan, which saved us around $1000! Jeff and I enjoyed it so much that we swore that if they offered free dining again, we would try to take advantage of it. Well, check it out: Score! Because of tough economic times across the country, we were able to get a discounted rate on a room and park tickets as well. And, thanks to our air miles program, we are flying to Florida practically for free! It's almost as if we can't afford not to go to Disney World. That's how I'm justifying it anyway.

So, now we all have something to look forward to this August. The idea that we wouldn't be able to swing a family vacation this year was depressing me quite a bit, truth be told. Jeff and I have worked too hard! And while Disney World may not be the relaxing vacation we probably need, is there really such a thing as a relaxing vacation with kids? My guess is no. So we'll just embrace the crowds, the humidity and the chaos of the four Disney parks and have a great time making memories.

An Easy Mark

2009-05-03T09:39:00.000-07:00

As I've documented in this blog before, Vika is always looking for a way to make a quick buck. If she can earn the money without having to do chores around the house, even better! Usually her plans involve creating some piece of "art" and then trying to sell it to people on the street. This worries me a bit because it brings to mind a future in which my daughter runs a make-shift booth selling tie-dye t-shirts to neo-hippies on Telegraph Avenue in Berkeley. Not exactly ideal.

During Spring Break, Vika made another entrepreneurial attempt. She crumbled wads of paper into slightly oblong-shaped balls and then colored them with crayons to make them look like decorated Easter Eggs. I'm not going to lie to you and say they were lovely. They were actually quite bad, and even Vika began to realize this as she was going over pricing with me. "Mama, do you think I could sell one of these for $5? Or maybe 50 cents?" I suggested that it might be best for her to simply give them to the family as Easter gifts, free of charge. She considered this for a moment, and then her face brightened as she said, "I know! I'll sell them to Joe-Monkey (my brother)! He'll fall for it! He always buys my stuff!"

Poor Joe... He's bought beaded items, drawings and coloring pages from Vika in the past, usually for 50 cents or $1 each, and now he's cast himself as an easy mark for all of her future moneymaking schemes. Fortunately, Vika forgot to bring the paper "eggs" with her to mom's on Easter, so Joe was not parted from any of his money that day. I can’t wait to see what she tries to sell him during our next family get-together!

Vika has hijacked my blog

2009-04-27T17:42:00.000-07:00

Vika's reading skills have improved tremendously over the past year, which is a wonderful thing except for one teeny, tiny problem. She now is able to read over my shoulder as I type these blog posts, and has taken to censoring or vetoing the things I write about her. *sigh* It's quite tedious, but since I am putting these stories out there for anyone to read, I should respect her right to control the flow of information. That's why there haven't been a lot of Vika posts lately. However, she and I have now struck a deal - I can post a couple of slightly embarrassing things about her, as long as I post her dinosaur report for everyone to read as well. This option is better than her earlier suggestion, which was that we print out a bunch of copies of the report and then sell them to people on the street for $5 each. That's my girl - always looking for a way to make a quick buck!

She's also a D.I.T. (diva in training). I was reminded of this fact the other day when I heard a loud pitched wail coming from her room. Thinking she had gotten hurt, I rushed over to take care of the problem. What did I see? My daughter, sitting in front of her bedroom mirror, practicing crying. Can anyone say "Drama Queen?" Since that incident, I've begun responding her crying a bit more cautiously. And now that she knows we're on to her, she's using the tears tactic less and less.

And now, without any further ado, I give you Vika's second grade masterpiece, her dinosaur report (which luckily, she was able to type up and use spell-check on).

Dinosaur Research Project
By Vika

For my research project I chose to learn about the Barosaurus. The Barosaurus lived during the Jurassic Period, which was a long time before Tyrannosaurus Rex lived. The Barosaurus looked like a big lizard with long legs and a long tail and neck. It was fat and one of the biggest dinosaurs on earth. This is why its name means “heavy lizard.” The Barosaurus lived in North American and Africa. A lot of Barosaurus skeletons were found in South Dakota and Utah. The Barosaurus was an herbivore and did not eat meat. You can tell this because it had flat teeth. To protect itself, the Barosaurus may have used its tail to fight carnivores (dinosaurs that had sharp teeth and ate meat). The Barosaurus walked on land and in water. It had hollow bones, which made it easier to move its long neck and tail. One interesting fact about the Barosaurus is that it swallowed stones to help digest the food in its stomach.

I chose to learn about the Barosaurus because it looked cool, and I thought that because it was an herbivore, it would not try to hurt people. I learned from this project that Barosauruses had hollow bones and swallowed stones to digest food just like birds do today! I liked this project and I hope you liked it too.

Everything's Zen

2009-04-25T17:24:00.000-07:00

Last weekend, in an effort to make the most of the beautiful weather, Jeff, the kids and I headed out to Golden Gate Park. We had a great time hanging at the Children's Playground, watching the terror/exhilaration on the kids' faces as they raced down the cement slide on a piece of cardboard, and shouting encouraging words as they made their way through the rope jungle-gym. Unfortunately, my stranger-magnet was in full effect, and I wound up being drawn into a conversation in which a man I'd never met before told me all kinds of random things about his life, including the time when he was driving drunk with his friend and hit a police car. Seriously - you get me out in a public place, and I guarantee you sooner or later I'll be trapped in an awkward conversation with a person who makes me a little uncomfortable.

Aside from that one incident, the rest of the afternoon was lovely. After leaving the playground and walking past a group of neo-hippies carrying a large pirate flag (not sure what that was about), we toured the Japanese Tea Gardens, taking lots of pictures and climbing a very steep bridge. Then we walked through the Botanical Gardens where we briefly became lost, scaring Vika who believed we may have to spend the night there. Eamon was just concerned about what we would eat.

We were able to get some cute shots of the kids during the outing; however, Eamon's self-haircut does tend to distract somewhat. Click any photo below to view it larger.

Eamon on the Ropes and Vika soaking up the sun

Eamon watching the traffic go by and Vika sitting pretty.

The kids in the Japanese Tea Garden

Me and the kids on the tall bridge

More Eamonisms

2009-04-19T07:20:00.000-07:00

As we were driving around in the car during Spring Break:
- "Mama, I'm glad you adopted me because I'm having fun with you almost every single day!"

While eating his breakfast at a rapid pace:
- "I'm jammin' Mama! I am on the crab!" (a reference to "The Deadliest Catch." - when the fishermen are doing really well, the narrator says they are "on the crab.")

After making a rare solo foray into a public bathroom*:
- (hands spread and brow furrowed in indignation) "Mama, I went into the boys' bathroom, and there were GIRLS in there!"

*He was in the girls' bathroom.

Ridiculously Long Lasting Gum

2009-04-16T16:22:00.000-07:00

It is a truth, universally acknowledged, that a child in possession of a new pack of gum must chew that gum ceaselessly until it is nothing more than a sticky mass of flavorless goo.

Such is the case with Eamon. Previous experience has taught us that Eamon is not the most responsible gum-chewer. In addition to the numerous wads he’s swallowed, we’ve found pieces of it ground into his bedroom carpet, a string of it attached to his sweater, and a chunk stuck in his hair. So it was a surprise when the Easter Bunny (dang his furry hide) decided to give the kids each a pack of Trident. This went along with his 2009 Easter basket theme of “Healthy Minds, Healthy Teeth” (I didn’t think up the theme, I just went along with it).

Right away, Eamon dug into his gum and began chewing it noisily. He did this throughout the day, looking and sounding much like a cow chewing its cud. Fortunately, Vika lost her pack of gum somewhere at Babushka’s house, or else I’m sure I would have had dueling gum smackers in my ear all day long.

Despite Eamon’s love of chewing gum, this time he took it a bit further than I ever would have anticipated. Each night when I go to bed, I “wake” the boy up and take him to the bathroom. I put “wake” in quotes because Eamon is seldom truly awake during these times. He’s generally still half-asleep, and he never remembers these trips the next morning. When I went to take the boy to the bathroom the other night, he began chewing his cheek. “What on earth is he dreaming about?” I wondered. Then the subtle scent of bubblegum wafted past my nose. Surely the boy was not chewing gum in his sleep. Unfortunately, that was exactly what he was doing. Thus began the frustrating exercise of trying to extract a piece of chewing gum from a not-quite-awake child’s mouth.

As Eamon sat on the toilet, eyes closed and head wobbling in semi-consciousness, I said, “Eamon…spit your gum out!” He just kept chewing. So I tried again, a little louder this time. “Eamon! Spit out your gum!” He still kept chewing. Soon I was saying loudly, “EAMON! YOUR GUM! SPIT IT OUT! “ By this point, his eyes were still closed, but he was frowning and shaking his head frantically from side to side indicating that no, he was not going to spit out his gum. Exasperated, I started tapping his cheeks and patting his shoulders to get him to fully wake-up. I tried tickling him, shaking him by the shoulders, and even prying his mouth open with my hands. The boy was not waking up and he was not giving me his gum.

By this point, Jeff had come upstairs to see what all the ruckus was about. With a “For crying out loud!” he grabbed the squirt bottle off the shelf and sprayed Eamon with cold water to wake him up. Eamon squealed in dismay, but kept his eyes firmly shut and his gum safely tucked in his cheek. It finally took a team effort to retrieve the wad. Jeff pried Eamon’s teeth apart while I reached in with my finger and swept the inside of his mouth. I scooped the gum from out of his cheek and triumphantly threw it in the trash! Then I calmly walked my slightly-damp, still half-asleep son back to his bed.

Easter Bunny, if you’re reading this, NEVER give my child gum again!

Thanks.

Sunrise, Sunset

2009-04-14T14:29:00.000-07:00

Eamon is generally not a morning person. I have to ask him repeatedly to get out of bed before he will begin doing his morning chores. That's why what happened the other day was a special occurrence.

As I was getting ready for work, Eamon came stumbling in to the bathroom, all rumpled and groggy, and said with a sleep-thickened voice, "Mama, I need to show you something." Curious, I let him grab my hand and pull me into his bedroom. He led me to the window and pointed outside at the sky, which was orange and yellow with pink clouds. "It's called a 'sunset,'" he said. "I like the pink clouds."

I smiled and told him that actually, it was a "sunrise," and yes, the clouds were very pretty. "I'm going to get up early every morning so I can see the sunrise Mama," Eamon stated, rubbing his eyes.

And that was the last morning he woke up early. The next day we were back to our regular routine of me reminding him several times to get out of bed before physically lifting his legs over the edge and pulling his body up. Oh well... at least I got to see one sunrise with my little man.

Rite of Passage?

2009-04-10T14:31:00.000-07:00

I guess it's something that every parent goes through sooner or later. Just when you think your child is looking pretty good, they grab the scissors and give themselves a haircut. I had a minor experience with this early on when Vika trimmed a lock of her hair. But fortunately, it was a small lock, and was kind of off to the side of her face, so it wasn't terribly noticeable.

With Eamon, I wasn't so lucky. Jeff was going to drop him off at my classroom yesterday after school, so he called to prepare me: "Jenni, Eamon cut his hair." Oh no. He'd finally gotten to the point where he had this cute, shaggy kind of "skater boy" hair, and I wondered how bad the damage was. When Eames first walked into my classroom, it didn't look so bad. He had his bangs kind of swept over to the side, and I thought maybe it would be OK. But as he began playing and his hair started to move back to it's normal resting place, the haircut was painfully apparent.**

Obviously, I had to give him a trim to help these new bangs blend in. But, if I gave him a cut as short as his bangs, I was afraid he might look like Mo from the "Three Stooges." In the end, I decided on a compromise. I cut his hair shorter, but not as short as the area Eamon cut himself. I figured that yes, he may look like a dork, but it's fitting punishment for him cutting his hair.

** I don't know what is with the dorky smiles in these pictures - I guess it's the best I could expect given the circumstances.

School Daze

2009-04-06T20:05:00.000-07:00

Things have been quite hectic at school lately. I feel like I've been running around non-stop with no breaks in sight. Added to this is the pressure of a parent, whom I'll call "Mrs. Helicopter" (Mrs. H for short). Her child did not do so well on his last report card, mostly because he doesn't turn in assignments and frequently "drifts off" in class, and she (for lack of a more delicate term) flipped out*. This has been a pattern with her son since 1st grade; however, Mrs. H is much more interested in blaming the teacher rather than addressing ways to help her son succeed. Last week, she spent hours in my classroom. Hours berating me for not suspending or retaining her son for his missing work; hours going through her son's extremely messy desk (in which we found numerous missing assignments); and hours sitting in the classroom so that she could make sure he finished an assignment and turned it in to the proper bin. Hence the name, Mrs. Helicopter. She hovers over her child so much that it's no wonder he's never learned to take responsibility for himself! When I voiced concerns about this, my words fell on deaf ears.

The final straw came when she pointed at me from across the table, red-faced with tears in her eyes and said, "I'm going to rip you apart for this one!" The issue she took such a strong objection to was that her son had not put the date on one of his papers. I calmly explained that when this happens, I have the child do "name practice" 5 times, putting name, date and assignment on the page. This was not good enough for her. She demonstrated what she would do by ripping up the paper and throwing the torn pieces on her child's desk. Then she spat out, "But you won't do that! You're too nice!"

*sigh*

After this episode, Mrs. H going through my other students' papers (something I never let parents do), yelling at a student in class while I was teaching, telling my substitute that she was allowed to stay in my room unsupervised with her son during lunch (she wanted to help him finish his test), and having the janitor let her into my room after school so that she could go through her son's desk and organize his things only served to increase my irritation. With the help of some extremely wonderful colleagues, I believe I have finally let Mrs. H know that she cannot come into the classroom and disrupt things in such a way. Unfortunately, she still does not understand that her child is a 5th grader and really needs to learn to take responsibility for his own schoolwork. At our meeting this afternoon she proudly stated, "I've told my son that if he's still not turning in his work in college, then I will be sitting right next to him there too, making sure he gets those assignments in!"

Some people just never learn....

* I send home missing assignment lists with my students every other week and require a parent signature on them, so Mrs. H should not be surprised by her son's low grades.

Brothers are such a "bather."

2009-04-01T21:13:00.001-07:00

Here's a note that was hung on Vika's door today. Apparently Eamon's making a nuisance of himself. Never mind the fact that my daughter's spelling is atrocious.

For those of you who are non-Vika-literate, here's a translation: "Please stay out unless you are mama or papa. No one bother!"

Mishka, An Adoption Tale

2009-03-27T07:00:00.000-07:00

Because our two children joined our family through adoption, they have a different background and perspective on life than most of their peers. We celebrate the fact that they were chosen to be a part of our family and have been very open about their adoption. To this end, we are always interested in finding great children's books dealing with adoption, especially those relating to children from Russia. A book we discovered recently is Mishka: An Adoption Tale, by Adrienne Ehlert Bashista. I love this book because it deals with the unique situation in Russia where prospective parents make two trips to adopt their child. First, they fly out to meet their child and sign the papers declaring their intention to adopt him or her. Then they return home to wait for a court date before making the second trip to adopt their child. For us, the wait was only a month, but others have waited much longer (one family I know waited a year!). This books tells about that wait from the perspective of those left behind in the orphanage, in this case a little boy and the mishka (teddy bear) his soon-to-be parents gave him during their first visit.

We learned a bit from the Baby Home about how Eamon reacted to the wait in between trips. He didn't understand where we had gone and why we were not visiting him. He knew we wanted to make him a part of our family, but our absence made him very concerned and nervous about when we would come to get him. Caretakers at the orphanage told us of Eamon lying in his bed, shaking with fear that we would never come back. The picture of our family that we gave to him was crumpled from being held tightly in his little fist. When I learned of this, I wished that we had given him something cuddly to hold on to, rather than the hard, plastic toy truck which was our gift to him during that first trip.

Before we initiated the adoption process, I bought a teddy bear for the child who would one day be my son. It is a red, white and blue speckled bear with a USA patch on its chest (a bigger version of a TY Beanie Baby). We didn't give this bear to Eamon when we went to Russia on Trip 1 because I was afraid that it would stay at the orphanage and we would never get it back (these fears were well-founded because the stuffed rabbit we got for Vika was never seen again). However, when we brought Eamon home, I presented him with his Mishka, and it has been his constant bedtime companion ever since. He calls the bear "Russia Mishka" and the bright red, white and blue colors of its fur have merged together into kind of a dull lavender from being well-loved.

Eamon and Vika both connect Mishka: An Adoption Tale to their own experience, even though Vika was not as affected by the wait between trips as Eamon. This story is nearly as much of a favorite as A Mother for Choco, another great adoption book. If you have children adopted from Russia, especially if they were a bit "older" at the time of their adoption, I recommend adding this book to your child's library.

Below are some other adoption and Russia themed books that my kids enjoy. I wrote about Nikolai, the Only Bear here, if you'd like to learn more.

Amazon.com Widgets

Quick Question

2009-03-25T15:28:00.000-07:00

What the heck am I supposed to do with a newborn for 4 hours?

I agreed to watch my nephew, Ty, this Sunday, and I'm not sure what to do other than feed him and change his diaper as needed. Never having had an infant myself, I'm feeling a bit inadequate.

Any tips for keeping a newborn entertained?

The Kite Runner

2009-03-22T17:22:00.000-07:00

I finished this book last night, and I'm still not quite sure how I feel about it. While the ending was hopeful, I guess wanted it to be a bit happier. The story did make me look at the Afghan community differently though and made me start thinking about a group of Afghan friends I had in high school.

I spent my teen years in the city of Fremont, California, which is where a portion of The Kite Runner takes place. It was strange to read about streets and locations which used to be part of my everyday life. Lake Elizabeth, which is mentioned a few times in the book, is the park where I spent endless weekends both playing and coaching soccer. It was through soccer that I came in close contact with Fremont's Afghan community. My brother was on a traveling team with 3 Afghan guys who were all extremely talented soccer players. Mo, Fo, and Obaid were also very funny and became great friends to both my brother and myself. Obaid came over to our house all the time and his mother would frequently send us Afghan food to sample. These were strange dishes featuring a lot of cinnamon and cilantro, and I didn't really enjoy them. It wasn't until later that I found out Obaid's mother was not the best cook, and her meals were a poor representation of Afghan food (which is actually quite good). Mo, Fo and Obaid would talk endlessly about Afghanistan and their dreams of returning there once the country returned to normal (this was both during and shortly after the Soviet occupation). Their memories of Afghanistan were much like those of The Kite Runner's main character, Amir.

Towards the end of my friendship with these guys, things took a turn into uncomfortable territory. For about 6 months, I had a crush on Fo (short for Fowad). While not tall, he was dark and handsome. More importantly, he was the best soccer player of my age I had ever met. This guy did things on the field that I had only seen professional soccer players do, and I was smitten. Then one day Mo and Fo said to me, "You would make a good Muslim wife." They approved of the fact that I didn't drink alcohol or eat pork (I was 17 and going through a vegetarian phase). They also would say things when they came over to our house such as, "Now, if you were an Afghan woman, you would get us something to eat and drink" (instead, I had plopped down onto the couch next to them without even asking if they were hungry). These comments slowly doused the torch I had been carrying for Fo, but unfortunately, both his and Mo's interest seemed to be kindled.

My first inkling that they were interested in more than friendship came when Mo began calling me every night. In between discussions about soccer and school, he would insert comments about how much I would like Afghanistan and how he'd like to show me his country someday. My suspicions were confirmed when he asked me out to a movie and dinner. As I climbed into his car, I was still trying to delude myself into thinking this was just a friendly outing. The gift he gave me of a gold necklace with a heart charm (surrounding a "J") pretty much jolted me out of my state of denial. While he was a complete gentleman, the date wound up killing my friendship with Mo. I was just wasn't attracted to him in that way and, stupid teenager that I was, I began avoiding him.

This was when Fo moved in. While we were away at a soccer tournament, he took me aside to sit next to him on the ledge of a fountain. He was nervously fiddling with a piece of paper in his hand, which he explained was a poem he had written. Would I like to hear it? I warily said yes, and then listened in silence as he read flowery phrases about a woman he had come to adore. After he was done, he looked at me meaningfully and asked if I liked the poem. "Yeah, it was good!" I replied, pretending to be oblivious, and then I got up and walked briskly away. Poor guy. His poem, while very sweet, marked the death of any lingering attraction I had felt for him. It reminds me of the following conversation from Pride and Prejudice:

Mr. Darcy: I thought that poetry was the food of love.

Elizabeth Bennet: Of a fine stout love, it may. But if it is only a vague inclination I'm convinced one poor sonnet will kill it stone dead.

Over the years since I last saw Mo, Fo, and Obaid, I have wondered about them frequently. Especially after the events of September 11th and America's battle against the Taliban in Afghanistan. I hoped that none of them had returned to their home country and that any family they had still living there were OK. About 5 years ago, I ran into Mo in the bar of a local restaurant. He was actually sitting at the bar, having a drink! I wasn't sure he would remember me, so I walked past, casting him covert glances. However, he did recognize both me and my mom (who I was having dinner with), and came to our table to say "Hi." He said his family was doing well and laughed at my surprise about him drinking alcohol. When mom asked him if he still wanted to return to Afghanistan he replied, "We're too corrupt for them now!" It was good to see that despite my awkward rejection of him, Mo harbored no ill feelings and was still the same funny guy he'd always been.

Even though I'm not sure how much I liked The Kite Runner, I did enjoy the memories it brought to mind. I gained a new understanding of friends whom I have not seen in a long time, and have begun to look at the city where I spent my teen years bit differently. Who knows? Maybe someday in the future I'll find myself at Lake Elizabeth again, this time with Jeff, Vika and Eamon, watching colorful kites flying in the air.

Perhaps I need to reteach this lesson....

2009-03-18T17:43:00.000-07:00

After school today, as I sat grading tests, I noted with both amusement and dismay some of my students answers. To be fair, one of these students is an English Language Learner who recently moved here from another country. But the other two, well they really have no excuse. We are currently covering the Revolutionary War and the Declaration of Independence. I think I may need to go back and review some key details....

Question 1: What was one good effect of having the British around?
Answer: One good effect of having the British around is that American colonists can kill them. (I guess this does make it convenient when trying to defeat your foe, but the correct answer was: The British gave the colonists protection from warring Native Americans and French and Spanish invaders.)

Question 2: How did life change for the colonists after signing the Declaration of Independence?
Answer 2 (from EL student): They get their freedom and they live like bird is flying in the sky and with love. (While I like the imagery his response brings, the correct answer is: After the colonists signed the Declaration of Independence, the Revolutionary War began, affecting the lives of many. Neighbors and families were torn apart based on their support of the British or the Patriots and there were many bloody battles until America finally won it's independence from Britain.)

Question 3: If you had lived during the Revolutionary War, which side do you think you would have been on? Why?
Answer 3: If I had lived during the war, I would have been on the American's side because I don't like red coats at all. Blue is an OK color for me." (I guess for some people, color choice is more important than political ideals.)

I love teaching about the birth of our country because the students have such interesting questions and we are able to make some wonderful connections to events that are going on today (for example, the colonists pulling down King George III's statue and Iraqis pulling down the statue of Saddam Hussein). However, with answers like the ones above, I'm also finding that students have some interesting interpretations of historical events as well.

Pink Friday

2009-03-12T07:06:00.000-07:00

Across the state of California tomorrow it will be "Pink Friday," a day to protest the tens of thousands of pink slips being issued to teachers. Everyone is encouraged to wear pink to show support for California's education system - which is kind of hard for me since I'm not really a pink person. But I imagine it's much harder for all the male teachers out there, who don't ever wear pink at all.

Over the past few months, and especially this last week, I've been exploring my options for next year. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't burnt out of teaching, because I am. I love working with the kids and seeing their eyes light up when they understand the curriculum and make connections to their own lives. Just this week, we did a class play about the Boston Tea Party, in which half the class acted out the roles and the rest of the class served as "techies," making costumes and sets out of whatever paper and supplies we had on hand. Orange and purple tricorn hats, made of construction paper held together with staples graced many a "patriot's" head. The kids had a fun time, and maybe learned a little more about the Boston Tea Party than they would have if they had only read of the event in a book.

However, with the state of teaching today, it is often hard to find the time to do such activities. Language arts is the main priority, and we conduct standardized testing in this area nearly every 6 weeks. Then we spend a day looking at the test scores, evaluating the data and seeing what skills we need to focus on for the next test. This practice is referred to as "backwards planning," but I suspect what it really is is "teaching to the test." One colleague has off the chart spelling scores and is given praise every testing period for those scores. Unfortunately, this teacher gives all the spelling words on the standardized test to the students early so that they can study them. This is not really what we are supposed to do - a teacher should be teaching the spelling patterns and the words throughout the unit, not feeding the words that are on the test. However, with things like merit pay and competition among teachers, such practices are going to become all the more common. Then, I wonder, how valuable and accurate are our assessments? I could teach the exact test to my kids too and I bet they would score really well. But then what happens to the actual curriculum? How well-rounded and well-educated will our students truly be when they graduate if all that is focused on is test scores?

This is the thing about education that is burning me out. Next year, with increased class size, less pay and no prep or janitorial services, I suspect the profession is going to be much more stressful. I am "on the cusp" with regards to my chances for rehire. But I'm not sure I want to work in the public education system when it is headed in this direction. So now I'm looking at jobs in the field of education where I can work with kids in a non-public-classroom environment. Jobs whose goal is not to achieve the highest test scores, but to make education and learning fun. There's a good chance that if I get rehired, I will wind up going back into the classroom - with the current state of the economy, I'm not sure I could afford to pass up a paying job. But it would be nice if I had some other options to choose from.