For the first time in many years, we are having turkey with just our family of 4. In years past, we've been blessed to share this holiday with friends and family, at our house or at theirs.
While we have looked forward to a relaxing, low expectations day of hanging around in our pajamas stuffing our faces, I do wish we had family closer. We've enjoyed spending the last couple of years with DH's sister and nephews. I just miss my family, which is all on the East Coast. I remember the days, before kids, when DH and I drove from our midwest apartment to my brother's house in the NorthEast. It would take us all day to get there, but we enjoyed the fall foliage on our trek, and with us being 2 carefree young adults, life was easy. We had money for the gas, time to bake pumpkin bread, and knew that my sister-in-law's cooking was waiting for us. Back then, my brother was the one with 2 young boys raising bedlam in his house. We had the fun of witnessing shaving cream and garden hose battles on the front lawn. I remember being a little taken aback at the roughhousing that always went on...that was before I gave birth myself, of course.
Thanksgiving had all the traditional accouterments, and since DH and I were just learning to cook, having recently graduated from dorm food, dinner was sheer HEAVEN. Both my brothers married great cooks--not something I thought about when I was choosing my mate.
Some years, we could stick the milk and beverages in the snow on the back deck to free up refrigerator space for all the leftovers. And my brother always had his Christmas lights hung before we drove away to return to our jobs back on the North Coast.
Happy Thanksgiving to all our siblings, North and South, East and West. We miss you guys!
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Eight Awesome things about Barley
- He ROCKS at math--I am convinced he will be the one to finally teach me calculus some day so I can rid myself of guilt that has been riding me since high school.
- He draws awesome Chinese dragons. I find it interesting how drawn he is to that style of dragon, while having no interest at all in the European style of dragon.
- He remembers things. School announcements, dates of field trips, my age. Information seems to stick to him, and he will offer up interesting tidbits, like how to tell if plants or bark are poisonous if you are lost in the woods.
- He loves pumpkin bread. He's going to be very happy on Thanksgiving.
- He's a great snuggler. Big enough to hug, but still small enough to be my baby.
- He knows lots of different bedtime kisses: Eskimo, butterfly, nose kisses, European style air kisses, klingon forehead rub.
- He likes to play the piano. I love when he wanders over there to experiment on the keyboard.
- He's a super defender in soccer--we've had a great time watching his games!
He really loves his brother and his parents
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DUDE!
Please enjoy this video of Barley's new favorite song:
Please enjoy this video of Barley's new favorite song:
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Inviting Drama
Barley had a rough day at school yesterday. He had one invitation to pass to a school friend, and we had no last name, address, or phone number for this friend. The only way to deliver the invitation was by hand at school, so we impressed upon Barley how important it was that he make sure to deliver it in a non-public setting. The boys have done this before, with varied success in the past. When I was in grade school, I witnessed invitations passing in front of me on the schoolyard far more often than I received one personally. We wanted to avoid hurting anyone's feelings and we impressed this point on the boys.
Anyway, the party being this weekend, and this being a short week, Barley was worried about missing this friend at school and not being able to let him know about the party. "A" was not at morning line-up (he arrived late), and Barley forgot the invitation in his backpack at recess and lunch. The end of Monday school day arrived, and after the bell rang, Barley's best friend of the moment, "B", followed him to where DH was picking him up. B stayed and chatted, and stayed and chatted. Barley could see his friend A walking by, with another mutual friend C.
Barley told his friend B, "I am sorry, but I need to talk to my friend "A" for a minute alone--can you go away for a couple of minutes?" I know, that sounds harsh, even from a 7-year old, but I'm not saying Barley would win any awards for tact. Then again, that's politer than some adults I know. Of course, kids being kids, Barley's friend B was now extremely curious, refused to leave, and recruited C to heckle Barley and A to find out what was going on. Worried about missing the chance to invite his friend, Barley finally gave up when he saw his Dad there to pick him up. He pulled out the envelope, handed it to A and reminded him not to open it until he got home.
Of course B and C started chanting, "What is it? What is it? What is it?" and A was actually inclined to tell them since he could brag about being invited to the party. Barley told him again not to, "My parents said it would hurt people's feelings, you can't say anything!"
As Barley left the group and headed to the car, he could hear A spilling the beans. He did not turn to see how anyone reacted to the news, but he was very, very upset about the situation.
We discussed it at home, as a family. DH and I pointed out to Barley that he now knew something about his friend A that he did not know before. Barley nodded, getting the point. Barley rehashed what had happened, and identified points where he could have made different decisions, like remembering the invitation at recess, or not walking with his friend B after school ended. We also pointed out that he could have waited until today for another chance to deliver the invite, or asked his Dad for help. He seemed open to all the feedback, and we made it clear to him that we thought he had done a good job trying to make things right in an awkward situation.
Then we decided to expand Barley's 6-person home party to 7, and printed up a new invitation for B. We weren't sure if B would hold a grudge, and I prepped Barley to explain to B that the party would be Pokemon-themed, and B has said in the past that he thought Pokemon were stupid (hence why he was not on the original list). Fortunately, kids are pretty straightforward. When they saw each other in the morning, they goofed around together for a few minutes, and then Barley apologized to B, and gave him the invitation. B seemed satisfied with that, and they were back to pushing each other and joking around on line. Friendships are simpler in grade school, I think.
Anyway, the party being this weekend, and this being a short week, Barley was worried about missing this friend at school and not being able to let him know about the party. "A" was not at morning line-up (he arrived late), and Barley forgot the invitation in his backpack at recess and lunch. The end of Monday school day arrived, and after the bell rang, Barley's best friend of the moment, "B", followed him to where DH was picking him up. B stayed and chatted, and stayed and chatted. Barley could see his friend A walking by, with another mutual friend C.
Barley told his friend B, "I am sorry, but I need to talk to my friend "A" for a minute alone--can you go away for a couple of minutes?" I know, that sounds harsh, even from a 7-year old, but I'm not saying Barley would win any awards for tact. Then again, that's politer than some adults I know. Of course, kids being kids, Barley's friend B was now extremely curious, refused to leave, and recruited C to heckle Barley and A to find out what was going on. Worried about missing the chance to invite his friend, Barley finally gave up when he saw his Dad there to pick him up. He pulled out the envelope, handed it to A and reminded him not to open it until he got home.
Of course B and C started chanting, "What is it? What is it? What is it?" and A was actually inclined to tell them since he could brag about being invited to the party. Barley told him again not to, "My parents said it would hurt people's feelings, you can't say anything!"
As Barley left the group and headed to the car, he could hear A spilling the beans. He did not turn to see how anyone reacted to the news, but he was very, very upset about the situation.
We discussed it at home, as a family. DH and I pointed out to Barley that he now knew something about his friend A that he did not know before. Barley nodded, getting the point. Barley rehashed what had happened, and identified points where he could have made different decisions, like remembering the invitation at recess, or not walking with his friend B after school ended. We also pointed out that he could have waited until today for another chance to deliver the invite, or asked his Dad for help. He seemed open to all the feedback, and we made it clear to him that we thought he had done a good job trying to make things right in an awkward situation.
Then we decided to expand Barley's 6-person home party to 7, and printed up a new invitation for B. We weren't sure if B would hold a grudge, and I prepped Barley to explain to B that the party would be Pokemon-themed, and B has said in the past that he thought Pokemon were stupid (hence why he was not on the original list). Fortunately, kids are pretty straightforward. When they saw each other in the morning, they goofed around together for a few minutes, and then Barley apologized to B, and gave him the invitation. B seemed satisfied with that, and they were back to pushing each other and joking around on line. Friendships are simpler in grade school, I think.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Farewell to Thomas
These wooden train toys have been well loved and much played with for the last 8 (!) years, and the family has grown from the first set brought by Santa when Teddy was 3, to the new trains that arrived every Christmas and birthday until Barley decided he was too old for Thomas a couple of years ago. We recently pulled them out from the coat closet where they have languished, unplayed with and unmissed. DH arranged, stacked and photographed them in anticipation of their debut on EBay in time for the Christmas rush. If we can get the price we want, then maybe the boys will not be too old for a visit from Santa this year after all.
And yet, I am really sad about their imminent departure. The Thomas era is over (the boys briefly flirted with that era by setting up a humongous track in the living room after DH was done cataloging). I remember very clearly when the Thomas era began in our home. It was 8 years ago almost exactly. Teddy was approaching his 3rd birthday, and finally old enough to both articulate what he wanted for Christmas (THOMAS!!!) and to understand the concept of being good for Santa Claus.
DH and I seized enthusiastically upon this ages old tool of parental manipulation. Teddy is, was, and has always been a very ENERGETIC boy. We thought of having him tested for ADHD many times, and finally did last year (close, but not quite). We were desperate for ways of curbing his...enthusiasm, shall we say? "Be good, Santa's watching" or "What do you think Santa would say about how well you are listening right now?" became our mantras, and they worked well. Teddy's spiral of hyperactivity would wind down instead of continuing to ratchet up. Brilliant--what a GREAT development we thought, as DH and I congratulated ourselves on our excellent parenting technique.
Until the day Teddy woke up from his afternoon nap SCREAMING AT THE TOP OF HIS LUNGS. We didn't see any obvious trauma, but after coming running from other parts of the house to comfort our distraught child, our hearts were beating a tempo to match his. It took him a long time to calm down enough to tell us what was wrong. It felt like 20 minutes, but it was probably only 10. Between ragged breaths, he gasped out, one horrified word at a time, "I...dreamed....that (breath)...I...saw ...(breathe)...Santa.........and he ... told...me...(gasp...more crying)....he's not going to give me Thomas....because I've been too BAD!..(WAILING)..."
DH and were both horrified. What had we done to our precious baby to give him nightmares about a vengeful evil Santa?!?!?!? Might we have been playing the only card in our discipline hand too often? Teddy was not a mean child, or purposely disobedient--just high-spirited. We felt terrible. And no matter how much we tried to tell Teddy how much we loved him, and how good he was, and Santa couldn't possibly think he was bad, he was upset and depressed for a long time after this incident.
Of course, Santa did come through for Teddy that year. He came through BIG. Teddy was very merry indeed on Christmas morning. This experience does, of course, give me pause as we introduce our boys to the omnipotent and omnipresent Christian God.
As the years have passed, and we added more parenting experience to our resumes, part of me sees that perhaps that nightmare was not just a judgment on our discipline style. Teddy himself may have been harboring some guilt for his own knowledge of just how hard he was, or perhaps was not, trying to be good and listen.
So I am ready to say good-bye to Thomas, and all the guilt that went with that memory. But I'll also always remember just how much he meant to Teddy, that his 3-year old deity made a personal appearance in his sleep to discuss his behavior. Thomas, you've been a big part of our family. I'll miss you.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Kimchi Meetup the second
I had as much fun at this second Kimchee Mamas Meetup as I did the first one. Maybe even more, since I was more relaxed. Having met some of my dinner companions last time, there was less to be anxious about.
I was not the first one there this time, but didn't think to introduce myself to the 2 gals sitting at the big empty table. I thought we might have a reservation, or a separate room, so I sat waiting for Glennia to show up instead. Silly me--Jodie and Sun were already there!
Dinner was very good. Secret Garden was nicer inside than I remember from when I had dinner there 10 years ago. Though I must admit, the absence of mandu and borey cha (barley tea) was a little disappointing.
So who all was there?
Sun--a self-described blog lurker
Jodie, a newcomer to Kimchee Mamas, who may have a blog of her own soon if she finds the time.
Glennia, who got us all organized. Her blog is The Silent I.
Stefania, who knows my friend Mir from BlogHer. Stefania's blog is found at www.citymama.com.
Mary, our organizer from last time, who blogs at Chronicles of a BART Rider.
and Me, of course.
The table was smaller this time, so we were able to share conversation a little more easily--everyone could hear everyone else. Very cozy.
After dinner, we went to a nearby frozen yogurt bar: Honeyberry for dessert. I guess this is some kind of spinoff of Pinkberry, but I had never heard of either. Inside was a gelato station, followed by fruity soft-serve, and additional toppings. The cup you get to start with is intimidatingly large (soup bowl size!), but I was assured that I did not actually have to fill up the entire bowl. You pay by the weight of your cup when you are done filling in. We ranged from $2 to $5 in our group.
The toppings were interesting...very Asian style, with mini-mochi, bean sauce, and other sweets. I tried the mini-mochi, which was very good! I will try to be more adventurous next time.
Of course, it would not be a Kimchee Mamas Meetup without the completely optional Noraebang Karaoke to end the evening. Here is a group shot (I'm behind the camera, heh).
As before, Mary was our rock star--belting out a lot of lyrics to get high scores on the karaoke scale. I looked for Indigo Girls songs again, but no luck. I resorted to Billy Joel's My Life and Piano Man. I knew when I was tempted to start entering Phil Collins songs that it was time for me to go home before I really embarrassed myself!
It was a fun evening, but I have to work this weekend getting ready to teach a new class, so I left early. We'll have to wait and see from the comments, or other blog postings, what these gals got up to after I left. So, when's our next Meet-Up?
I was not the first one there this time, but didn't think to introduce myself to the 2 gals sitting at the big empty table. I thought we might have a reservation, or a separate room, so I sat waiting for Glennia to show up instead. Silly me--Jodie and Sun were already there!
Dinner was very good. Secret Garden was nicer inside than I remember from when I had dinner there 10 years ago. Though I must admit, the absence of mandu and borey cha (barley tea) was a little disappointing.
So who all was there?
Sun--a self-described blog lurker
Jodie, a newcomer to Kimchee Mamas, who may have a blog of her own soon if she finds the time.
Glennia, who got us all organized. Her blog is The Silent I.
Stefania, who knows my friend Mir from BlogHer. Stefania's blog is found at www.citymama.com.
Mary, our organizer from last time, who blogs at Chronicles of a BART Rider.
and Me, of course.
The table was smaller this time, so we were able to share conversation a little more easily--everyone could hear everyone else. Very cozy.
After dinner, we went to a nearby frozen yogurt bar: Honeyberry for dessert. I guess this is some kind of spinoff of Pinkberry, but I had never heard of either. Inside was a gelato station, followed by fruity soft-serve, and additional toppings. The cup you get to start with is intimidatingly large (soup bowl size!), but I was assured that I did not actually have to fill up the entire bowl. You pay by the weight of your cup when you are done filling in. We ranged from $2 to $5 in our group.
The toppings were interesting...very Asian style, with mini-mochi, bean sauce, and other sweets. I tried the mini-mochi, which was very good! I will try to be more adventurous next time.
Of course, it would not be a Kimchee Mamas Meetup without the completely optional Noraebang Karaoke to end the evening. Here is a group shot (I'm behind the camera, heh).
Stefania was our next singer, impressing us all with lyrics in Italian that she actually understood. Jodie and Glennia both sang as well. Jodie was a little more adventurous...or unlucky, ending up singing a couple of songs alone since the rest of us did not know them. Glennia (whom I am not forgetting this time!) was a great sport, jumping in with most of us when we needed a backup singer. We even got Sun to sing along by plugging in the Korean children's song, "San Toki", which translates to "Mountain Rabbit." Overall, this was less stressful than last time, which was my first trip ever to a noraebang.
It was a fun evening, but I have to work this weekend getting ready to teach a new class, so I left early. We'll have to wait and see from the comments, or other blog postings, what these gals got up to after I left. So, when's our next Meet-Up?
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Marching into Hell
Today's post was inspired by this post on Goo Goo Dada. Take a minute and read it now--I'll wait. My post will make more sense after you've read his.
Amazing how much we can love our kids, right?
I remember sitting in the car with my Dad when I was about 10 years old. I don't remember what the context was, or why he brought this up. He looked me straight in the eye, not letting me drop my gaze or look away, and told me with quiet passion, that he would march into Hell for me.
Being the good little girl I was, I gave him an appropriately solemn response. I rolled my eyes, looked away, and said, "Daaaaad". The same exact way my 7-year old says "Mooooooom" when I tell him that he needs to eat his vegetables. On the other hand, what would be the proper response to something like that? A polite "Thank you. I appreciate your willingness to take on eternal damnation for my sake. I'll do my best to be worthy of that going forward."?
I remember very clearly what I felt at the time he told me that. I was embarrassed by his sincerity, and frightened by it too. I knew I was not worthy of that kind of love and devotion (though I didn't stop to think if any child ever could be--nor could I fathom how I would measure something like that). Having been raised Catholic, I had not learned cynicism to doubt that Hell was real, or doubt my Dad would do what he said. I only hoped that I would never be bad enough for us to see that come to pass.
Fast forward a few decades, and now I am mother to 2 children of my own. And while they drive me crazy daily, minute-by-minute even, I know at my core that I love them so much, I would march into Hell for them too. This has nothing at all to do with whether they deserve it or not. Nothing they could ever do in this life would change why I feel this way. It's just love. Unquantifiable, unmeasurable, unreasonable, undeniable. I love them more than I love my husband. (Sorry, DH!) Unlike my adult relationships, where my love is somewhat judging (I love you if you love me back), the way I love my children is a one way street. Even when they are at their worst, I still love them because they are mine. Not because they are my flesh--since I know from my own family that adoption is just as strong a bond as birth--but mine to love. The only people I can think of that I loved as unconditionally as I love my children, are my parents. But then again, they did a lot to earn that love, didn't they?
I wonder if all children would be as intimidated by such a passionate expression of love as I was. Or if my fear was rooted in my unique life experience as an older child adoptee. There might be something there.
Coincidentally, another of my favorite bloggers also wrote about parental love today. Check her out!
Amazing how much we can love our kids, right?
I remember sitting in the car with my Dad when I was about 10 years old. I don't remember what the context was, or why he brought this up. He looked me straight in the eye, not letting me drop my gaze or look away, and told me with quiet passion, that he would march into Hell for me.
Being the good little girl I was, I gave him an appropriately solemn response. I rolled my eyes, looked away, and said, "Daaaaad". The same exact way my 7-year old says "Mooooooom" when I tell him that he needs to eat his vegetables. On the other hand, what would be the proper response to something like that? A polite "Thank you. I appreciate your willingness to take on eternal damnation for my sake. I'll do my best to be worthy of that going forward."?
I remember very clearly what I felt at the time he told me that. I was embarrassed by his sincerity, and frightened by it too. I knew I was not worthy of that kind of love and devotion (though I didn't stop to think if any child ever could be--nor could I fathom how I would measure something like that). Having been raised Catholic, I had not learned cynicism to doubt that Hell was real, or doubt my Dad would do what he said. I only hoped that I would never be bad enough for us to see that come to pass.
Fast forward a few decades, and now I am mother to 2 children of my own. And while they drive me crazy daily, minute-by-minute even, I know at my core that I love them so much, I would march into Hell for them too. This has nothing at all to do with whether they deserve it or not. Nothing they could ever do in this life would change why I feel this way. It's just love. Unquantifiable, unmeasurable, unreasonable, undeniable. I love them more than I love my husband. (Sorry, DH!) Unlike my adult relationships, where my love is somewhat judging (I love you if you love me back), the way I love my children is a one way street. Even when they are at their worst, I still love them because they are mine. Not because they are my flesh--since I know from my own family that adoption is just as strong a bond as birth--but mine to love. The only people I can think of that I loved as unconditionally as I love my children, are my parents. But then again, they did a lot to earn that love, didn't they?
I wonder if all children would be as intimidated by such a passionate expression of love as I was. Or if my fear was rooted in my unique life experience as an older child adoptee. There might be something there.
Coincidentally, another of my favorite bloggers also wrote about parental love today. Check her out!
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
What's in YOUR pantry?
I bet my friends who have daughters never find this in their pantry: a Jawa from Star Wars hiding behind the soy sauce.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
What would you do for a tootsie roll?
We spent Halloween with a friend of the boys and his mom at the local amusement part: Great America. The boys opted to skip the costumes for the day, and just enjoy the rides.
The challenge at this age, is the varying levels of thrill that they can tolerate. Our group ranged from zero (me, the chicken heart), to Mild (Barley), Medium (friend) and Anything Goes (Teddy and friend's mom). DH is between Medium and Anything Goes. Of course, the split in thrill seeking meant I spent much of the day with Barley after the 2 rides that all 3 of the boys could agree on.
I still remember my "little" brother taking me on one of my first coasters when I was a tween, and hanging on to his neck while we went straight up and screaming in his ear the whole way own. I wonder if he remembers this too? He can probably trace hearing loss back to that event.
Even riding one of the "baby" coasters at Great America these days has me questioning my sanity--and I don't mean Psycho Mouse, which has pretty intense death-fantasy fulfillment in it. I mean the Reptar coaster in the Nickelodeon area. Just barely more thrills than the Taxi Jam ride in Kidzville, for which the only requirement is that you be older than 2, and be able to hold your neck up straight.
I made a big deal about how scared I was on the Reptar coaster, which helped Barley enjoy the ride more when he went on it by himself twice more without me. I was very protective of his ego, after their friend scoffed at Psycho-Mouse (the one I thought I was going to DIE on), calling it a "baby ride". I totally get that there are more exciting rides out there, but I knew Barley was not going to go for those. He had spent weeks looking forward to seeing this particular friend, and now would not actually spend much time with him, since the ride tolerance was so different.
So what would I do with Barley all day, while we avoided the scary rides? We ate popcorn, frozen lemonade, played some games, and headed over to Nickelodeon where they were doing "Nick or Treat."
Frankly, Barley is getting a bit old for the character bit. He was the tallest kid in line, and when it was his turn to hug Angelica, he tried to move past her straight to the staffer holding the candy bags. Both the staffer and I told him he had to either hug or pose with the character--in this case it was Angelica from Rugrats. He hates Rugrats. He almost gave up on the venture entirely, then decided he could tolerate it for the sake of the candy. Surprisingly, he actually gave me a nice smile even.
The challenge at this age, is the varying levels of thrill that they can tolerate. Our group ranged from zero (me, the chicken heart), to Mild (Barley), Medium (friend) and Anything Goes (Teddy and friend's mom). DH is between Medium and Anything Goes. Of course, the split in thrill seeking meant I spent much of the day with Barley after the 2 rides that all 3 of the boys could agree on.
I still remember my "little" brother taking me on one of my first coasters when I was a tween, and hanging on to his neck while we went straight up and screaming in his ear the whole way own. I wonder if he remembers this too? He can probably trace hearing loss back to that event.
Even riding one of the "baby" coasters at Great America these days has me questioning my sanity--and I don't mean Psycho Mouse, which has pretty intense death-fantasy fulfillment in it. I mean the Reptar coaster in the Nickelodeon area. Just barely more thrills than the Taxi Jam ride in Kidzville, for which the only requirement is that you be older than 2, and be able to hold your neck up straight.
I made a big deal about how scared I was on the Reptar coaster, which helped Barley enjoy the ride more when he went on it by himself twice more without me. I was very protective of his ego, after their friend scoffed at Psycho-Mouse (the one I thought I was going to DIE on), calling it a "baby ride". I totally get that there are more exciting rides out there, but I knew Barley was not going to go for those. He had spent weeks looking forward to seeing this particular friend, and now would not actually spend much time with him, since the ride tolerance was so different.
So what would I do with Barley all day, while we avoided the scary rides? We ate popcorn, frozen lemonade, played some games, and headed over to Nickelodeon where they were doing "Nick or Treat."
There were 5 stations total, and the characters, were changed out every 20 minutes. The candy at each station was the same, but with each new character Barley figured he could stand in line again for more candy. We got 9 characters, and 9 grabs of candy before he finally got tired of it.
It was amusing to watch him put up with the lines and the posing to get the candy. It wasn't primo stuff--mostly nerds, jawbreakers, gum, and tootsie rolls. He knew he would have to share with his brother and friend, so he wanted to be sure to get plenty. It kept him happy and gave us something to do while the others rode roller coasters. What would YOU do for candy?
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
It's all Orson Scott Card's fault
I can't blog for a while, because DH has finally persuaded me to read what may well be the most amazing Science Fiction series of ALL TIME: Orson Scott Card's ENDER Series.
I started reading Ender's Game last week some time, and have plowed through Ender's Shadow and Shadow of the Hegemon in about 2 days per book. (Caution, the links take you to wikipedia, not Amazon. Less commercial, but chock-full of spoilers).
I will have to drive into the office the next few days instead of working from home, as these books are just TOO tempting.
And really, I think the blame should also be shared by our friend John, who got DH hooked on it, even though he did not know that the term "ansible" (faster than light communication device) was really coined by another of my favorite authors: Ursula LeGuin in Rocannon's World. While Card's writing is much more suspenseful and intricate, he delves into similar anthropological settings with science fiction twists.
Don't worry, I won't be gone forever. There are only 7 more books published in the series, so I should be back online in about 2 weeks. Unless I get the urge to stop reading and, I dunno, take care of my kids and do my job so I don't get fired, maybe?
I started reading Ender's Game last week some time, and have plowed through Ender's Shadow and Shadow of the Hegemon in about 2 days per book. (Caution, the links take you to wikipedia, not Amazon. Less commercial, but chock-full of spoilers).
I will have to drive into the office the next few days instead of working from home, as these books are just TOO tempting.
And really, I think the blame should also be shared by our friend John, who got DH hooked on it, even though he did not know that the term "ansible" (faster than light communication device) was really coined by another of my favorite authors: Ursula LeGuin in Rocannon's World. While Card's writing is much more suspenseful and intricate, he delves into similar anthropological settings with science fiction twists.
Don't worry, I won't be gone forever. There are only 7 more books published in the series, so I should be back online in about 2 weeks. Unless I get the urge to stop reading and, I dunno, take care of my kids and do my job so I don't get fired, maybe?
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