Seeking My Life

For the love of books

2012-01-11T19:33:00.000-08:00

I love books, and while the argument for the advantages of e-readers are starting to make sense to me, I can't let go of the tactile joy of turning pages and smelling the paper and ink. The first video below made the rounds last year, and I loved it then. The second video is the sequel. I love them both!

And your problem with that is...?

2012-01-08T09:45:00.000-08:00

We were ordering the birthday cake for oldest child's party this weekend, when Youngest overheard. Miffed, he asked in a plaintive voice, "Why does he get two birthday cakes?!"

We had gotten a very small one for the actual day of Oldest's birthday, knowing his party was 2 weeks away. Youngest's birthday party was a week before his actual birthday, so we had not done the same for him. Just one cake.

DH looked in surprise at Youngest, and clarified, "This means you get to have some of 2 of his birthday cakes, instead of just one. What are you really having a problem with?"

Youngest thought about it, and retracted his complaint. The principle seemed a lot less important than the potential for chocolate.

Recycled Resolutions

2012-01-03T22:56:00.000-08:00

Nothing original this year. 3 simple remixes from last year:

Eat Less/Exercise More/Get rid of Crap from the house

I made some progress on the diet/exercise thing last year, but have slid backward again after August with work stress and holiday binging. Will try to fix both now. I have been testing out a new pedometer from a friend. I walk much less when I am working--didn't expect as big a difference as I have seen, though: 3000 steps vs. 300! I wonder if it doesn't work as well clipped to my waistband (work clothes) vs. in my pocket (jeans at home).

The 3rd is motivated by my longstanding history as a hoarder, which I learned at my mother's knee as a child. This link posted by a friend on FB reminded me why I want to clear some of that stuff out of my life.

We had a productive weekend as Barley invited me to help him clean up his room, which included getting rid of lots of toys from his closet. We also cleared out space in the garage for the Foosball table and the punching bag. Now we need lamps and heaters for this newly usable space. (more stuff to buy!)

How are you preparing for the New Year?

2011-12-28T19:00:00.000-08:00

My friends are all getting ready for the new year:

One friend has paid down all of her debts, and reminded me that we have a decades old debt to pay back a college roommate. We'd bet on who would have the worst childbirth story, and the "winner" with the most gruelling story would get a vacation paid for by the other two. Now in our mid-40's, we're pretty certain that contest has officially ended, and we're going to pay up in 2012. A college reunion trip is in the works!

Another friend is exhorting us all on FB that it's time to put away the Christmas decorations already. Ours will stay up until after the New Year's celebration--one more party to go. Though the tree is coming down this week to make room as our house is not that large. I find the idea of tearing the tree down the day after Christmas a bit abrupt, as I want the holidays to linger. (Surprising, given how stressed I've been this year)

I feel the urge to clean. It doesn't strike often, but I like the idea of a clean house to welcome in the New Year. It's also when I check all the lightbulbs inside and outside to replace any that have burned out. I am amazed that one house, built recently in a development of cookie-cutter homes, was designed with 5 different types of ceiling bulbs!?

My friends of Japanese descent have a special soup they eat on New Year's morning for good luck--can't remember the details--not having had any (hint!).

My Korean friends celebrate by making mandoo (dumplings) and "eating one more year" of rice. Koreans in Korea count themselves another year older on January 1, but I think I'll stick to the Western method of waiting until my actual birthday--it buys me another 9 months!

When I lived in Cleveland, a coworker told me it's good luck to eat port on the new year, so as to always have plenty. Chicken was bad luck on New Year's Day as it presaged a year of "scratching" for food.

What are you doing to prepare for the New Year? Or are you in survival mode like I am?

Happiness is...

2011-12-24T10:23:00.000-08:00

Reminding myself to enjoy the holidays, a growing list of little things that make me happy:

Finding the warm spot in bed after getting up in the middle of the night
Watching my boys play with bubble wrap (apparently 10 and 12 are not "too old" after all!)
Coffee in the morning
Good chocolate

Avoiding the annual Grinch

2011-12-01T19:35:00.000-08:00

I'm back in my holiday rut of feeling grumpy and stressed out around the holidays. Barley's birthday and Thanksgiving behind us, Teddy's birthday, Christmas, and our annual New Year's Eve gala loom ahead. Throw in extreme work stress, and DH recovering from knee surgery, and it's a hot mess all right.

In an effort to evade my annual grumpiness, I am trying to get out ahead of the holiday obligations. Every assumption is up for debate:

Do I have to send out greeting cards? This is 6 out of 16 of the holiday to-do list, and one of the biggest stressers. I briefly considered ditching it, or replacing it with electronic greetings, but then decided against. I LOVE getting real Christmas cards in the mail, so I have to send them to get them (that's only fair). I have duly noted which of my friends have switched to electronic cards, and respecting their preferences, I will send them a cheery digital note as well by the end of the season. I am relieved to say that I am DONE with this onerous task, having settled for a nice summer picture which most of my friends have already seen. Don't hate me for being an early bird--just trying to reduce my holiday guilt!
What about the New Year's Eve party? DH and I debated moving it out to mid-January, but decided the circle of friends who attends this would be even less likely to make the effort to join us. For some, it is the only time each year we might see them. We floated the idea of a New Year's Day party, removing the requirement to stay until midnight, but one of the 4 families cannot make that day. So, party on!
Christmas tree? I had the boys prioritize some of the things we do over the holidays that is a lot of work: Party, Tree, outside lights, inside decor. Tree was in the top 2 on everyone's list. So, we re-affirmed that one, but reminded the boys that they will be expected to help decorate the tree, and reviewed the schedule.
Indoor decor did better than I expected: 3rd instead of last. It's one of my favorite things, so I'll get the creche set up and hang the garlands on the bannisters after all.
The outdoor lights were mostly last, but DH seems to like those, so they may get out after all. Just no hurry since it seems to be lower priority for most of us.

Things we are ditching this year:

My office holiday party. It's a big event, held someplace posh in San Francisco. Always fun and memorable, but the babysitter who can stay until 1 in the morning gets pretty expensive, and it's a long drive in from where we live. I also have to leave for a business trip the morning after, so we decided to skip it this year. Feeling a bit less happy with my job lately anyway, so better not to add "forced socializing" to that side of the ledger.
The Christmas Cookie exchange with some girlfriends. It's fun, but we're all feeling a bit stressed out. I'll try to make cookies sometime, but not under a deadline to make 4 dozen presentable ones for trading.
I didn't write a Christmas letter to go with the cards. Most of our friends are on FB now anyway, and those that aren't can write me back to get more personalized news. I may feel the urge to summarize the year, and if I do, I'll just post it here for you all.

So as the annual holiday marathon begins, my wish for all of you is to have a happy and RELAXED holiday, to whatever extent circumstances allow.

Soccer Society

2011-11-16T22:09:00.000-08:00

Barley has been taking a break from soccer for a while, since last winter. He'd started playing at age 5, and had the same coach, since then. They moved to Competitive about 2 years ago, after a very successful Recreational season where they dominated and won every single game.

The move to Competitive was exciting! New uniforms, team logo, customized jerseys, special tournaments and travelling to games! Barley was in the middle of the pack skill-wise when the team formed, but in the 18 months of competitive playtime, he slowly migrated to the bottom. There were a few extremely talented boys on the team, and some who were very passionate about soccer, living the game every moment of their lives. Barley has some skills, and he enjoys the game, but he was not dedicated enough to practice every weekend, only sometimes. And new players joined the team over time, either recruited, or volunteering after their team lost to ours. All these factors caused Barley's skill development, which was excellent due to good coaching, to lag behind the team average.

In the last 8 months of playing, Barley spent most of his time sitting on the bench. He never started a game (maybe a practice scrimmage, but never a game), and often we'd be watching the second half of a game start where he'd not yet played during the first half. This was frustrating for us, but very demoralizing for Barley. He also didn't have any good friends on the team. He was not part of the "in-crowd" formed by the team's elite players. He always went to practice because we made him go, and he tried hard while he was there. But he often left in a rage, or close to tears, because he'd gotten hurt, or been teased about his name, or made fun of by the other players for some reason or another. I even launched a campaign to have playdates with several of the players who seemed a little nicer, trying to build a better bond with his teammates. The parents were friendly and open to these, and the boys always had fun during the 1:1 time, but it didn't change the team dynamic much.

By the end of the 18 months, Barley was done. Done with comp, and possibly done with soccer completely. He didn't want to do any soccer over the summer, or sign up for fall season either. DH and I were both sad about this. However, we knew that the last 2 seasons had been tough to go through, and he had earned a break. We hoped it wouldn't be forever.

So, fall came, and neither of my boys are doing much besides school. Tired of the couch potatoes glued to screens all their waking leisure hours, we informed Teddy he was joining drama club at middle school, and I signed Barley up for indoor soccer. He had not asked to be signed up, but I hoped the indoor environment would help ease his reluctance, and it would give him exercise during the cold winter.

He had his tryout practice last week. Random assignment of players to teams for scrimmage, and he was grinning the whole time he was out there. I saw him tracking the ball, talking to his teammates, and running all over the field. Some great cross-field kicks and lots of enthusiasm!

I asked him how he felt about the practice, and his observation was quite astute.

"The kids were all more mature (nicer, he explained), but their soccer skills weren't as good as I am used to seeing. On my other team, they were all really amazing, but they weren't very nice."

I asked him which kind of team he'd rather play on, and he immediately answered, "Nice but not as good players." The coda on the conversation was his happy observation,

"I'd forgotten how much FUN soccer can be."

I think we've found a better place, at least for this child, at this time of his life. For 9 going on 10, soccer should still be fun, shouldn't it?

Pride and Prejudice and Boys

2011-11-11T22:08:00.000-08:00

I was a late convert to Jane Austen fandom. I have many girlfriends who love her, but my first attempt to read one of her novels had me falling asleep before finishing the first chapter. I did, however, love movies based on her work, starting with Sense and Sensibility (1995) starring Emma Thompson, Kate Winslet, and Hugh Grant. I also enjoyed Pride and Prejudice (2005) starring Keira Knightley. In the intervening years, I had managed to read through several of Austen's novels and become a big fan.

Having two sons, I never expected to share the love of Austen's romanticism and wit with my progeny. It was enough that my husband would allow me to snuggle while watching the Colin Firth version of Pride and Prejudice (1995) and not mind the drooling when Firth steps out of the pool.

The boys surprised me tonight. Enjoying a rare evening off from work, my husband had the Keira Knightly version of P&P on TV for me, overruling the boys' request for a Harry Potter marathon. They wandered into the dining room after dinner for other digital amusements.

Then Mr. Darcy's first proposal arrives, and Elizabeth Bennet's passionate declaration that Mr. Darcy "is the last man on Earth I would ever be persuaded to marry!" caught their attention. "Ouch!" exclaimed the Tween from the other room, and the 9 year-old giggled aloud in disbelief, adding, "That's so mean!"

Curious, they wandered back into the TV room to see the scene finish, and DH and I explained they might be even more surprised to learn that Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet do end up together at the end. (OK, no spoiler alert, but come on--who doesn't know that! And yes, more spoilers coming for those not familiar with the story.) "No way!" they both responded, and brought their portable electronic devices in to multi-task as they watched this improbable conclusion unfold. As each scene referred to previous events, we filled them in. They were actually interested in why the middle daughter running away with Wickham was such a big deal. Presciently, Barley commented, "If he gets her sister back for her, they are so totally going out!"

At bedtime, Barley asked to stay up to see the end of the movie, because "it's actually pretty good." Sure, that might just have been a ploy for more time, but it still made his mother's heart very, very happy. Austen scores two more fans and another generation is hooked.

The Great Halloween Candy Negotiation

2011-10-31T20:17:00.000-07:00

The boys have finished their appointed rounds, and the loot is spread out on the kitchen table. Sorting has begun, with each designating a pile of potential trade items. Barley's pile is bigger, since his braces eliminate all gooey, chewy items, and also anything with nuts (they break into little particles that get wedged in the appliance).

Somehow, Teddy scored one big candy bar that Barley did not, so the offer and counter-offers begin. Deals are made with a seriousness that would not be out of place at billion dollar corporate merger. Once all parties are satisfied, the true candy rejects head for either the garbage can (smashed, unwrapped candy, or broken lollipops), or the better pieces get recirculated in the candy bowl for future supplicants at the door. Maybe the candy corn and twizzlers will find a happy home with one of them.

The candy jars are wiped of dust that covers the bottoms, after the long dry summer candy-free season. They are replenished with sugar to kick off the long winter sugar season: Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, Valentine's Day, Easter. Thus the cycle begins anew, ending, beginning, thus it will always be. Amen.

Perspectives

2011-10-26T07:00:00.000-07:00

This post owes its spark to a post by Patois: Whee! All The Way Home: Perspective

When my life gets tough, which is has lately due to increased work responsibilities, it can sometimes help to remember how much better my life is than it could be. Better than it actually is for many others. Not to gloat, but rather, to remember to be grateful for the good parts and not just obsess about what's hard. I have 2 good perspective shifts to share below, and one sad one. And an anthem that helps me get through tough times at the very end.

Funny perspective story #1: When DH was in law school, the gruelling study and test schedule was hard on everyone. Those with additional burdens had that much more to juggle. He had two classmates, both women, who eyed each other during the orientation. One was several months pregnant, and the other had a cast on one leg, relying on crutches to get around campus. They each confessed to the other at the end of the year, that they got through the challenge by reminding themselves, "Well, at least I don't have to deal with what she does on top of it all!"

Funny perspective story #2: My best friend who already worked in public service, found it necessary to go to police academy as part of her career credential, at age 35. She was surrounded by 19 and 20 year-olds, and spent 6 months running daily and working out to get in shape for the physical strain. A colleague who had gone a year earlier came close to not graduating due to the fitness requirements. My friend would describe her days to me when we caught up on the weekend: Classwork was easy, but the jogs, pushups, tests of stamina were a struggle. They got painful tear gas dabbed in their eyes and then complete an arrest. One particularly tough day awaited her: Climb an 8-foot wall wearing all her police gear, and then fight "red man" on the other side. "Red man" is a big muscular guy outfitted in red padding, ready to beat you down until you give up, or you manage to subdue him. Right mouse-click here to see a video. During all her travail, no matter how hard my job got, I could always remind myself that at least there was no "red man" around the corner waiting to kick my ass. That was a good perspective.

The sad stories: One friend's husband had a mild stroke this summer. He is recovering, almost 90% his old self, after many challenging weeks and months. But another friend's wife is not doing so well. Heart surgery and a bad stroke has removed all her speech, and she has very limited mobility. All of them are younger than I am.

The anthem that helps me get through tough times: Hold On from the musical: The Secret Garden (takes a minute in for the song to start)

SJ Rep's "The Last Romance"

2011-10-22T23:01:00.000-07:00

DH and I saw "The Last Romance" at the San Jose Rep last night. Having a conflict with kids' social calendar forced us to reschedule our usual preview night tickets.

The show's plot about an older couple (Ralph and Carol) and their romantic liaison later in life was an interesting counterpoint to last month's "Spring Awakening" (link to my post here). This show was less exuberant, of course, but the romance was sweet. Interesting to consider the added complications of trying to get together in old age. In youth, we are eager to cut all our bonds, and willing to throw all other obligations out of the way. No obstacle seems too high to overcome.

Older couples have families they can't ignore, and the future holds more restrictions as health or wealth may peter out, as opposed to the limitless possibilities that the future may hold for a teen.

Joshua Jeremiah sang the operatic bits with full voice and sweet face. And Sharon Lockwood as "Rose" (pictured at right below), channeled DH's late mother, resembling her with the white forelock and East Coast accent.

Will Marchetti and Kitty Winn played the main couple beautifully, enabling us to feel their hopes and fears. One older gentleman in the front row, enjoying the dialog with an electronic booster of some kind, exclaimed loudly in response to many of the clever repartee. The audience, whose median age jumped a generation from last month's teen anthem show, gave them a standing ovation at the end. It may have taken many of them a tad longer to get up on their feet though. The link to the San Jose Rep scrapbook is here.

One repeated gag in the play was Ralph and his sister, Rose, each trying to guess Carol's age. She was not flattered by their responses. This reminded me of a time I got in trouble with my paternal grandmother, Nana.

I was young, maybe 9 years old? As a kid, I was no judge of age in grown-ups, they were ALL "old" as far as I was concerned. I somehow was trapped in the kitchen with my somewhat vain Nana asking me point blank, "How old do I look, honey?" Being a logical child, I knew at the time that my older brothers were in their twenties, and my parents must have been at least in their twenties when they were born, since my mother was a teacher and had finished college. Add another score years to that for my father's mother, as I also knew he was one of her younger children, and the answer I told Nana was "70". Purely mathematical, just like my youngest son would have calculated it. Boy, was my Nana mad at me for that! I remember being shushed and bodily removed from the kitchen, though I also had the feeling the other adults in the room had been amused. When my mother asked me where I got the number from, I explained my logic to her. She just smiled.

Becoming Jason Hite fans

2011-10-02T11:38:00.000-07:00

DH and I cashed in our change jar to buy tickets for Spring Awakening again. Here is a link to my previous post on the show.

Upon the second viewing, I was struck by how much of the show depended on the performance of Jason Hite, the lead playing Melchior Gabor. While this ensemble musical provides features songs for most of the characters, Melchior sings the songs involved in most of the movement of the plot.

Jason handles the weight of responsibility, projecting the emotional conflict ably, transitioning from teen exuberance to defiance to regret and hope through the course of the play.

Of course, he still could not have done it all alone. All the performances by the troupe were strong, and on second viewing, DH and I were thrilled to have the chance to check out the antics of the secondary characters on stage during the musical numbers. They were all performing at top level, with facial expressions, songs, and poses that would have been appropriate if they had owned the spotlight alone.

Miguel Cervantes (Moritz) and Zarah Mahler (Ilse) are two we especially enjoyed watching.

DH and I both wished we could have the cast album from THIS show, as the songs were performed even more passionately than on the Broadway recording that we have. I was happy to find that San Jose Rep had its digital scrapbook posted here. Not sure how long that will be available, but they've been kind enough to provide both print and web downloads. I'm going to make my own scrapbook pages from these! Though we'll try to see other versions of this show for comparison, I am afraid we may have already seen the best ever and others won't compare. Like the lyrics from the song, "Those we've known", we'll carry the memories from this show with us forever.

I was commenting to DH after the show how much I enjoyed watching Jason Hite, when the woman seated in the row in front of us turned and exclaimed proudly, "That's my son!" We chatted briefly with her and Jason's grandmother, who were both understandably delighted to have seen their son/grandson's awesome performance. Jason had another audition on Monday already, and we join them in wishing him the best of luck!

The performers were in the lobby again, and we took the opportunity to chat with Zarah, whose resemblance to our babysitter was so uncanny that it sent us rushing home after the first performance to check on our kids. DH offered to take my picture with Jason Hite, and I declined. Though he may well be famous some day, having a picture of him wouldn't mean all that much, since he would be unlikely to remember me. (I should have gotten a picture of his Mom/Grandmom, though!).

When we got home, I did some online research, and discovered there is another famous Jason Hite, known for his photography. Our Jason was in the Berkeley performance of "Girlfriend" last year (link to interview). I'll be watching for more news as his career grows.

Failing Leadership School

2011-09-08T07:00:00.000-07:00

My company is sending me, and several other colleagues to Leadership School. In preparation for this, we've been requested to fill out 360degree surveys on each other. The 360 refers to the fact that these will be completed by people all around you--below, above, beside.

Many of the questions focus on people skills, such as, "Does this manager treat mistakes as opportunities for learning in a positive way?"

I think I failed that this past weekend. We went camping with several friends, and through a series of events too complex to go into, we brought 3 extra children with us, in addition to our own two. There were also two other families, with their own children in the group.

For breakfast one morning, several of the children requested noodle cups (fine by me--quicker and easier to boil water than cook eggs and bacon). Two of the girls left their styrofoam noodle cups, with the dregs, on the table. As I went to pick them up to discard, I realized they'd spilled noodles, broth, and vegetable matter all over the table around the cups. I was peeved. I might also have been a teensy bit stressed out about having 5 kids to track that weekend.

Anyway, I called the girls back, showed them the mess, and very sarcastically asked them, "Are you guys kidding me? Is that how you clean up after yourselves? Clean that up right now!" The girls were properly apologetic, cleaned where directed, and promised not to do it again.

Looking over at DH to share an exasperated eye-roll, his expression of surprise made me replay the scene in my head. Hmmm. OK, I might have been a little harsh in my delivery of the message. If they'd had a chance to fill in a 360 on my leadership style right then and there, I would not have scored very well. Good thing I don't actually talk to colleagues that way!

Life as a Roller Coaster

2011-09-06T07:00:00.000-07:00

How do you live your life?

Are you a free spirit, enjoying whatever thrills and adventure life throws at you? Does that mean you also suffer whatever slings and arrows fate sends your way? I think my oldest child is a bit like that. He is very flexible, and "goes with the flow". Sometimes, though, this means he looks back and realizes he didn't have the experience he wanted to have, because he let someone/something else dictate the order in which he did things, and how. Most of the time, that doesn't bother him. He lives very "in the moment."

This can drive DH and me crazy. This same free-spirited approach to life also means that homework gets forgotten, and time is not set aside for practicing anything unless he is reminded. I worry about what kind of a future he will have if he does not exercise more control over the direction he is going.

On the other hand, my youngest child is all about control. Things must be done in a particular order, a certain way. And while he is no happier than his brother to get new chores, or have his daily routine changed, once established he is fine. He is the child who remembers his assignments, and gets homework done in school before he even arrives home. He is the one who tries to tell his brother the right way to do things, and will call him on infractions. This child I worry about socially. I trust he will find a productive way to live his life and support himself financially. But will he be happy? Will he have trusted lifelong friends who will help him cope with those slings and arrows of outrageous fortune?

I myself am more like my younger than my older son. By controlling the details, I make sure there are no unpleasant surprises coming at me. But watching my children, I would guess that my older son has mastered how to be happy and enjoy life moreso than my younger child. Sure, he gets upset by how unfair life (and parents can be)-- he is a pre-teen after all. But mostly his "go with it" attitude shrugs off frustration and inconvenience, unlike myself and his brother, who nurture these feelings, trying to figure out how prevent them from EVER happening again.

I had an image of life as a roller coaster a few weeks ago. Some people ride them, and enjoy every death-defying moment. Others of us avoid them, or suffer through them with iron grips, hoping not to die today, even if we know cognitively how safe these rides are engineered to be (yes, there are very rare accidents, but we don't fear driving on the highway like we do these rides).

This was at Six Flags Discovery Kingdom in Vallejo. I thought about riding this one, but chickened out at the end, heart pounding at my close escape! While mostly relieved when my nephew agreed to go on with my son, I was also disappointed, and slightly embarrassed.

Sometimes I wish I could enjoy that roller coaster (and life) more, and worry less. If I figure it out, I'll try to teach my younger son too.

Spring Awakening Indeed

2011-09-03T00:46:00.000-07:00

But it is fall, not spring. OK, letting that go...

Shown Left: Jason Hite as Melchior and Eryn Murman as Wendla in San Jose Rep's production of Spring Awakening.

DH and I just saw the San Jose Repertory Theatre's performance of Spring Awakening. <SPOILER ALERT> For those who don't like spoilers, you should not read this review, as there will be spoilers throughout. Just won't be possible to explain what I loved about the show without giving some of the story away.

Having listened to the lyrics ahead of time, and read the plot synopsis, DH was not sure he wanted to go. While the overarching story is already for mature audiences only (awakening teen s_xuality, angst, and repression), there are many, many other mature themes to this play, including:

masturb_tion (starts with the very first scene, first song, and continues throughout)
teen s_x
homos_xuality
child abuse (both physical and s_xual)
anti-religious themes
anti-authoritarian themes
teen pregnancy/abortion
teen suicide

(Sorry about all the underscores. Trying not to get traffic that will be disappointed by the regular content of this blog)

Definitely not a play you'll see any T-Party candidates attending, unless picketing out front counts.

Having heard the songs, though, and with our oldest child entering puberty, I wanted DH to come see it with me, so he agreed. And boy, was he glad he did!

The first scene, first song, "Mama Who Bore Me" won us over immediately. Very much an ensemble show, the female leads sang like angels--clear, melodious, and harmonious. That is, if angels stomped around on stage in boots, pulling up their nighties, and, umm, "mastering their domain" as Seinfeld would have put it.

Despite the suicide that we knew was coming mid-play, the show surprised us with its exuberance. We expected it to be dark and gloomy, full of teen angst. There was still plenty of angst, but much of the staging and lyrics were funny, or at least ironically witty.

There were amazing uses of set pieces as part of the dance routines--seeing how they use the table in "The B_tch of Living" was worth the price of admission alone!
I loved the interplay between Georg and the Adult Female in the song, "Totally F_cked", and I know I'll be hearing that song in my head for years to come, whenever I am feeling stressed.

Most of the show is set in 1890's conservative Germany, but the music breaks away into modern rock. I found the use of the songs exclusively for interior monologue to be insightful, allowing us to hear their thoughts, but not interrupt the storyline. I also found interesting that all the teen characters are unique in personality and challenges to overcome, while all the adult roles (parents, teachers, administrators, doctors), were played by the same two people: one each for Adult Male and Adult Female. It really reinforced the teen perspective of all grown-ups being the same. And there are no songs from the adult perspectives, hence no getting inside their heads. This is definitely a teen anthem show! We noticed a younger audience block in attendance.

All the performances were wonderful, which is required for such an ensemble piece. I loved Cindy Goldfield's first scene, as Wendla's mother trying to explain the birds and the bees to an eager daughter. It was thrilling to see Lowell Abellon again as Georg. He co-starred in the World Premiere of The Kite Runner, written and performed here in San Jose. The two leads: Jason Hite (Melchior) and Eryn Murman (Wendla) were amazing, of course! He reminded me of Matt Damon in Good Will Hunting.

The play itself brought both Our Town and Dead Poets Society to mind. The graveyard scene in the former, and the school setting with rebellion in the latter. I thought much of the staging of the songs was as creative as in Chicago, but with less glitz and glam.

There was a live 7-person band on the the back of the stage--a refreshing change from the orchestra pit where you can only see the tops of their heads. Reader Little Drummer Girl will appreciate that Ms. Kelly Fasman played drums--and rocked the house!

One of our favorite things that San Jose Rep does is put out a study guide with more detail on the play, and the topics covered. This is always a great read before or after the show. Whoever does this -- you're doing a GREAT job. Even if you don't see this play, any parent with teens entering puberty might appreciate reading this document--click here for the PDF. WARNING: Content is graphic!

I loved the cartoon on the bottom of page 10: "Never connect without a firewall". So appropriate for Silicon Valley! And the explanation on page 8 of teen brain development was illuminating. Teen decision making is ruled by the amygdala (emotional center) at this age, and not the prefrontal cortex (rational thought) as in adults. This explains quite a lot about our middle-schooler's behavior recently!

We enjoyed the show so much, despite the dark themes, that we're checking our piggy bank to see if we can afford tickets to see it again. If you can manage it, and the mature themes don't turn you off, I *highly* recommend this show!

Maturity, where art thou?

2011-08-31T22:28:00.000-07:00

So, they say girls mature faster than boys. Having been a girl, I am willing to prescribe to that sexist generalization. We had an illustration of it on the first day of school. Both Teddy and his friend Kay were supposed to be in Band. Neither of them were assigned to Band in their schedule.

During her first break, Kay went to the band teacher , whom they both knew from the previous year, and requested his help in fixing her schedule. She had the right classes and teachers by the end of Day 1.

Teddy, also noticing he was missing Band, completed the first day of wrong schedule, and came home. When we asked about Band (he didn't volunteer that he'd gotten the wrong class), he told us he figured we (us parents) had missed some deadline over the summer, and he planned to come home and complain to us about the mix-up.

After much reminding and haranguing, Teddy spoke to enough people that he got his schedule straightened out...by Thursday. He spent 3 days of his first week of school attending the wrong classes. Yup, 3 of his teachers from Day 1 were no longer his teachers, and he was now 3 days behind in those new classes.

Sigh. My girlfriend with 2 sons, one graduating high school this year, assures me that while it may appear that boys take longer to mature, they do eventually catch up.

You know, Jr. High and High School were tough the first time around...

Middle School Dress Code

2011-08-29T22:26:00.000-07:00

Oldest is attending Middle School, and along with the novelty of lockers, bell schedule, A, B, and C schedules, he and his friends all must adhere to a dress code. Not a strict uniform per se, but limited to only black, gray, or white polo shirts. No logos allowed or printing allowed.

Us newbie parents were curious about how they would enforce this. Would we get calls in the middle of the day to pick up our child, or bring in the required clothing? Bribing the children with ice cream, we settled in and peppered them with questions about their first day.

One amusing insight was that students who failed to wear the "school standard dress" were sent to the office by their first period teacher. They were then relieved of their offending T-shirts (to be taken home in backpacks), and given a bright orange T-shirt with "LOANER" printed in big black letters across the chest. Our offspring estimated about two dozen students (out of 1000) sporting these "shirts of shame" the first day. Much fewer thereafter I imagine.

Postscript: the prescribed pants are denim (no holes) or khaki. Oldest had a number of black and dark blue pants, so I picked up some khakis for him. I noticed today he was wearing black shorts after school, so I asked if anyone pointed out that dress code infraction to him. He said no one seemed to notice. Good thing--if you got called for both shirt and pants, and they had matching orange pants, you could look like a prison escapee!

Of course, in a couple of years, these boys will have the pants hanging down much lower. I wonder if there will be a "school standard dress code" for underwear too?

How to tell your Papa loves you

2011-08-11T00:06:00.000-07:00

We had dinner while on vacation at DH's favorite restaurant: Claim Jumpers. He ordered filet mignon, drooling for some steak, but trying to keep his diet a little under control ("No, of course I don't want a cherry on top of my sundae, I'm on a diet!").

I don't remember what Teddy and I ordered...some variant on steak, no doubt. The memorable part was that Barley ordered the kid's menu sliders. Two plain burgers was all he wanted. No cheese, no ketchup, nada. You'd think a great restaurant could handle something simple like that, right? Even Denny's has good burgers.

Well, it turned out the kids burgers were not as good as Denny's. Unsurprised that our youngest child's finicky palate had found something unacceptable, DH tried one himself. Yuck. Dried out, and too salty. DH gave Barley a sliver of his filet mignon to taste instead. Now, we don't eat steak at home that often, so Barley looked at the proferred bite with some suspicion and much trepidation. We all watched his face for the reaction.

And it lit up like Christmas! Mmmmm, and a BIG smile. DH cut off more pieces, and as his modest but oh-so-tasty beef delicacy disappeared off his plate and into Barley's mouth, he resigned himself to eating two plain, not even any cheese, sliders.

I tried to explain to Barley how much his father must love him to trade his filet mignon, cooked to medium perfection, for salty burgers. He smiled at his Dad and said a cursory "Thanks". I caught DH's eye and commisserated. "I" understood how much love that meant. And now that I think of it, I am pretty sure I had pasta with chicken, as it never occurred to me to offer up part of my dinner to either of them. It would have been better than the burgers, but could not have replaced the lost filet.

Giant Fish

2011-07-23T11:30:00.000-07:00

June vacation included a trip to San Diego, where we hit SeaWorld. Oldest child plunked down to play that ring-toss over a bottle neck game--you know, the one no one ever wins? And he WON! This giant fish was so big, it could not be dragged around the park--I had to take it back to the car.

It put me in mind of my older brother taking my sister and me to Bush Gardens in Florida years ago. Being athletically inclined, he pitched softballs into a narrow necked urn, and won a giant stuffed bear--as big as I was! Delighted, he selected which bear, and turned to hand it to my sister and me...and then realized there were 2 of us, and we had separate rooms. He would have to try for another one. Just $5 more, and he succeeded! He was then politely asked to leave the booth.

I remember our parents' dismay when they saw us carrying these giant bears back to the rental car (we must have had a van for 5 of us, else they would never have fit). We had flown down to FL, and would have to somehow bring the bears back on the plane! Lots of extra-tough lawn/leaf bags and duct tape, and very kind airport personnel got them safely home (this was before all the hijackings, terrorism, and $50 extra bag limits). Before leaving Florida, I remember that one of the bears, which stood on four legs, gave the motel manager a heart attack when he investigated the maid's report of a "large dog" in our room.

Anyway, as I hauled the giant fish back to our car, I received two types of reactions from the people I passed. Children under 10 gaped, pointed, and exclaimed, "Mommy/Daddy, I want one of THOSE!"

The parents who caught my eye looked sympathetic, yet relieved, as in, "You poor schmoe--better you than me!"

The dang thing took up 1/2 the minivan rear (with seat folded down) and all the walking space in our hotel room. Youngest son ended up with it in his room, and can no longer reach the window. Sigh.

Family Reunion

2011-07-21T11:30:00.000-07:00

Summer is always an insane time of year for us, as family schedules go wonky with children heading to different summer programs. My youngest child especially does not do as well with the constant changes in routine, as summer vacations interrupt the regular rhythms of life. He enjoys the vacations, we all do, but it adds a bit of stress.

In June, we did some driving, and met up with family at a reunion of long-lost cousins. With my family's adoptions and re-marriages, and bi-coastal relations, I had not seen many relatives from my mother's first husband's family before. These were my brother's cousins by birth/genetics. Although none of us hail by that family surname, we were all included. It was funny to see my nephew and his cousins stand together, and see the resemblance that was strong enough they could have been brothers.

Since I myself am adopted, as is my husband, such similarities in genome always seem uncanny to me. While my youngest child is undoubtedly my clone, our oldest is such a blend of his Caucasian father, and Korean me, that he looks like neither of us very much. He does resemble his brother though, or so people tell us all the time. We tend to see their differences more when we look at them.

Ah, family. It was good to spend time with my brother, and his extending family (wife, sons, daughters-in-law,and granddaughter). We don't do that enough.

Confronting Racism

2011-06-14T17:50:00.000-07:00

I've never heard of Jay Smooth before encountering this brilliant video on a friend's FB page. I've always resisted the idea that Hip-Hop is a form of poetry (my oldest son commented that he thought Rap was "manly poetry"), but after listening to this video, I have to admit Jay has a way with words!

We played this for the 12-year old entering middle school next year. He got it. He laughed at the funny bits, but he got it, and hopefully this helps him navigate tricky waters when pointing out uncomfortable truths.

Stash vs. Hoard

2011-05-31T07:00:00.000-07:00

As I've scratched the quilting itch lately, including getting my son involved in his first quilt project (but don't tell his friends at school!) we went through my fabric stash picking out material. As we sifted through yards and yards of flower prints, pinks, pastels, and juvenile prints that were too juvenile for a tween, too young even for my youngest child, I came to the sinking realization that my so-called "stash" has aged into a "hoard".

A well stocked stash, of any size, would be filled with fabrics that I love and want to create from. There might even be some solids or neutrals, which not my favorite, would fill in the gaps and allow me to create the works of art I want to make.

What I found in my full cupboard of materials, was lots of juvenile prints that I expected to turn into something lovable, oh, maybe 8 years ago, when my children still watched The Wild Thornberrys and Dora the Explorer did not trigger vomiting sounds from my youngest. When Po and Tinky Winky were beloved icons.

Unloved, mismatched, no-longer age appropriate fabric riddles my stash, aging it in my view as mold on cheese. The fabric is still perfectly good, of course. And given my sticker shock when buying fabric to complete Barley's quilt (over $10 per yard!!), I almost feel sick thinking about how much money I've spent on fabric I many never use. Also, at 7 yards for the backing, never mind the pieced front, a finished quilt could easily run hundreds of dollars in material, not including my labor. Yikes!! Those cheaply made versions coming out of China for under $200 could almost make you forget the questionable labor practices involved.

I'll be taking a more critical eye to culling the hoard, donating to worthy charity groups that make quilts for children. And I pulled some fabric that I have loved for decades to make myself my own quilt, after Barley's is done.

Speaking of stash, another Franklin Habit cartoon featuring Einstein and Queen Elizabeth, on the merits of yarn stashing is here. Enjoy!

Barley's Quilt

2011-05-27T07:00:00.000-07:00

I've been feeling pretty grumpy for the last, oh, few months. In an effort to fight off the near-constant irritability, fueled by work stress, home stress, chores, being sick, snippy offspring, whatever...I've been trying to spend more time quilting. It's an activity that I (mostly) enjoy, but have not actively engaged in, in literally years.

I finally dug out some patches I started 6 years ago. Based on simple line drawings that my youngest used to make on any available paper, I turned the idea into a patchwork design, with grand ideas of making him a quilt out of it. I started with bright colors on a blue sky, and a year later, when I showed him some of the blocks, he wanted it on night sky with stars instead. So, back to the drawing board. Then I lost steam, got busy, and the blocks languished on my sewing table.

The 3-year old who drew all the doodles is now 9, and has no memory of those early "jet planes" he used to draw. He specializes in dragons these days (no, I don't plan to start piecing dragons...though I did get lucky when I went in search of backing fabric!). I am a little sad that he doesn't remember the design anymore. I have more cut strips to piece more jet plane blocks, but since he doesn't even remember where the idea came from, that seemed kind of pointless. Teddy helped me lay out the blocks in a triangle formation, and I spent a weekend adding background to fill in the empty space. I am pleased with the way it came out, and anxious to finish the quilt before Barley doesn't even care about planes or dragons anymore. Here is the finished top:

The whole thing is at the quilt shop to be machine finished. I thought about trying to do the quilting myself, but wanting to be done before he hits high school, paying money to someone else seemed the better idea.

It's been a long, strange trip

2011-05-25T05:00:00.000-07:00

It's hard to believe it's been 20 years already since friends and family gathered to witness DH and I promising each other love and commitment. It hasn't been an easy ride by any means. His sister gave a lovely talk at our wedding, in the tradition of old fairytales, about loyal Hans:

A long long time ago, there was a lost prince. Maybe he was turned into a frog or something, but his family sought him for years to no avail. Most dedicated was the servant, Loyal Hans, whose heart was so close to breaking, that he has 3 iron bands put around it to keep it together.

Many years later, the prince was found, the spell broken by a beautiful princess, and the prince's overjoyed family dispatched Loyal Hans to collect the prince and his bride, in the family carriage . On the way home, Loyal Hans' heart grew so full of love and happiness, that one of the iron bands burst open. Hearing the dreadful noise, the prince grabbed his bride's hand and prepared to leap from the carriage, which sounded like it was about to fall apart. Loyal Hans reassured the worried Prince that there was nothing to worry about, just stay in the carriage, all was well. This happened again, and one more time as the iron bands burst from Loyal Hans' heart. Finally he explained to his Prince, "Don't leap out of the carriage at the first sign of trouble. That's just the bands on my heart expanding so that love can grow and fill it".

Happy Anniversary, DH. It's certainly not been an easy road we've traveled, but we've survived it, even thrived. That's definitely something to celebrate!

Stop Talking, Dad

2011-05-21T22:46:00.000-07:00

Our boy is growing up, whether we will it or not. He enjoys sitting in the front seat with me and stretching out. It still shocks me that he fits the seatbelt as well as I do, now. Part of me wishes I could have kept him strapped into a child safety seat for the rest of his life.

Some milestones are still ahead of us. A friend invited him to go see the new Thor movie that just came out. This friend happens to be a girl, but she is "one of the guys", as we understand the schoolyard relationships. DH talked to him before he was picked up by the friend's mother, saying how nice it was that there was no awkwardness about him going to see a movie with a friend who happens to be a girl. That it was great that they could just be friends, and no one wondering if they "liked" each other, or anything like that.

Mortified, and turning a little pink, Teddy politely, but firmly, asked his Dad to please just stop talking now. I guess that milestone might be closer than any of us realized.

Resolutions Revisited

2011-04-26T19:53:00.000-07:00

So, in the theme of "Less is More", I resolved 3 things this year. Here's the update on how I'm doing:

Weight Loss: no progress at all. My early success in getting to the gym 2-3X per week lasted almost 5 weeks, but then got sidelined by a bad respiratory infection. Then work got hairy, and when I've had a few breathers from that, soccer schedule kicked in, and let's face it, I've gotten lazy. I made it to the gym once this week and last. I'm also trying to kick some of the sugar habit, but have already punted starting that diet limit 2 days in a row. Will keep trying to do better.
Clearing Clutter: Made some progress here. We've donated 8 paper grocery bags of books, and I have more in a box to send to my niece for her son and nephew. Of course, it wasn't until I was literally tripping over the books as I got out of bed that I was motivated to get rid of them. Gone are books the boys are too old for, books they've read and won't reread, and books we bought with good intentions of edifying ourselves, but just could not get into after the first few pages. DH and I are true librophiles, so this was not an easy process. But now the books we really love have room on our bookshelves, and the ones we don't love will have a chance to be loved elsewhere. The children's school teachers, after-school care center, and Friends of the Library are the lucky recipients.
Finishing Projects: Definite progress here. In the last 3 months, I've completed the following:

1 pair of socks for each son
New fleece jacket for Teddy to replace the one he lost (grrr)
Lengthened bathrobes for both boys (they are growing so dang fast!)
My brother's sweater

Of course, in the true spirit of a project starter, not finisher, I've already started:

a pair of socks for DH
a sweater for DH
bought fabric for a jacket for Barley
a pair of slippers for my sister-in-law
bought wool for a watchcap for my brother
etc.
etc.

The list above reminds me of this funny video posted on Franklin Habit's blog. All knitters and most crafters of any kind will appreciate the humor and challenge of hand-made gifts.

Are they too old, or am I too grumpy?

2011-04-23T06:48:00.000-07:00

So, I do realize two days before Easter is not the best time to start shopping. What can I say? I've been busy, and this has been a stressful year for holiday figures. The existence of both Santa and the Tooth Fairy have become purely capitalistic collaboration by our kids. While trying to Google-search the "right age" to put an end to the charade, I came across this funny post about negotiating Easter baskets with a teenager. I could so totally imagine having that conversation next year!

Since we're still "in transition" at our house, I've eyed the packed baskets in the local drug and grocery stores, but passed them by for being too young for my boys, now 9 and 12. The following are what they usually contain:

Sidewalk chalk in egg shapes (got a ton which they don't use anyway)
Pink plastic girly stuff--this eliminates half the stock
Bubbles--nah, 3 years past that even for the youngest child
Plastic ball with rackets, catchers, etc--we've thrown all those away recently, don't want to bring more into the house
Matchbox cars--just got rid of a ton of those
Coloring books
The wrong kind of candy--not enough chocolate!

Barley has braces this year, and 6 recent extractions of baby teeth. Jelly beans, marshmallow peeps, and anything else sticky is out of the question. This leaves...chocolate.

OK, so I get that I'll just have to buy some of that. But some kind of basket with some little toys would have been great. I tried costco--no luck. ToysRus was also out of stock. I picked up a few items, then hubby called with a new video game suggestion. So not what I wanted to give them to celebrate the ascension of Christ...but it would make them really, really happy. I caved.

At the drugstore to buy candy to stuff plastic eggs with, I witnessed a perfectly predictable (but still awful to witness) total meltdown by a 4-year old who wanted Easter candy NOW! Her poor mom was trying to check out, and calmly reassuring her that the Easter Bunny was likely coming Sunday morning. That was way to far away to mean anything to this bedazzled child standing in front of a mountain of pastel edibles. Crushed disappointed toddler, stressed-out mother, distraught bystanders. Way too commercial, too sugary, too too everything.

I am just glad that we've finally found a welcoming church to go to Sunday morning. While there will be some small Easter egg hunt, we will also enjoy a community potluck, and that seems like the right way to celebrate Easter to me--with lovely people, and remembering the original reason for the day.

Not Your Father's Air Raid Drill

2011-04-20T19:37:00.000-07:00

What safety drills did you practice as a child? When I was in school, we had fire drills from both the classroom, and the bus that I rode daily. We still have fire drills at work, rude but necessary interruptions of productivity. My favorite fire drill was at an office tower that provided complimentary ice cream in the parking lot at the designated safe distance from the building.

I've seen videos of earthquake drills in Tokyo, though I am not sure if they do that here in California. We've had a couple of tiny real ones which prompted us to talk to the boys about getting out of the house, or in a doorway, under a desk. Barley was pretty freaked out after his first one at age 5, which also made us realize we hadn't yet strapped down the large-screen TV he was standing next to at the time.

When I was in elementary school, we did air raid drills of the "duck and cover" variety. Link to wikipedia page on the topic here. We trooped out to the hallway, and knelt facing the wall, crouching down and covering our heads with our arms until the alarm stopped. These may also have been related to nuclear attack, rather than air raid, since we were not in an active war when I was in school.

They don't do them anymore, or at least not out here on the west coast. Instead, their annual school drill is a much more alarming lockdown, designed to protect the children in the event of a school shooting. Our children were veterans of a few years worth of such practice before another parent clued me in on what the drill really was. A pretty good description of it is posted here. In light of the world we live in, it is a necessary, and wise precaution. But personally, I found this type of threat much more viscerally frightening than the vague air raid or fallout practices of my childhood.

Are We Rich? Part 2 of 3 (In which I whine for no good reason)

2011-04-17T19:31:00.000-07:00

To read Part 1 of this series, click here.

So, taxes are done and filed. We are not getting the refund I was hoping for, and actually owed a chunk I wasn't expecting. We are able to pay it, and while home improvement projects have to be scrapped for a while, we are still in relatively good shape.

I'm just jealous of those who have more, that's all.

In the midst of trying to coordinate an outing with a friend and her son, she mentioned some of the scheduled activities that are keeping them so busy. A leadership summer camp for her son at an exciting location, and a trip to Asia this summer too. She is understandably excited by both opportunities. Meantime, I was excited to learn that our children will have the chance to travel to Washington D.C. in 8th grade--hey, that's all the way across the country! It pales in comparison to her child's annual summer continent trek. He's been to Australia and Paris already....places that even I, in my 5th decade of life, have never been.

Another family that we know is in the midst of renovating their house. A major structural redo, it will take many months, and they will have to camp out in their backyard and garage over the summer, having turned over most of their daily living space to a construction crew to remodel. It will open up tons of space, and use that space more efficiently, making an ordinary home quite exceptional and lovely. I am jealous because my hopes of just taking down a couple of trees, and installing hardwood instead of carpet are on hold. A remodel such as they are planning is completely out of the question for our financial situation.

So, are we rich? Heck NO! I have to fight off the green-eyed monster as I realized that my recent raise will go directly to paying our increased real estate taxes this year, leaving me feeling no further ahead despite all my hard work.

And I do realize that I am still very, very well off compared to many other high-quality people in the world, or even neighborhood. We don't worry about what we buy at the grocery (I do pay attention, and clip coupons, but I don't worry if we can afford meat this week). We have good health insurance, and relatively good health (knock on wood). The recent discussions about exchanging Medicare for vouchers does have me resigned to working for the rest of my life, though...

Even if we did have the money that our friends do, which they are investing in summer vacations around the world, or remodeling their home, DH and I are not sure we would bother. Our remodeling friends are probably sick of hearing comments that their house is "fine the way it is". It is fine, but the point is that it will be better when they are done. And if they have the money and are willing to put up with the hassle of living in their garage to realize their vision, more power to them!

I have smaller, less ambitious visions. Hopefully we'll do our withholding tax calculations right next year, and we too can make our "dreams" come true.

Two San Jose Rep Reviews in One

2011-03-30T19:00:00.000-07:00

We saw the San Jose Rep production of "Legacy of Light" this past weekend, and it was WONDERFUL. Everything we love about theatre: great writing, great performances, humor, deep thoughts to keep you talking even after the play is over.

The play merges the stories of two heroines from two timelines:

In the 1700's: Physicist Émilie du Châtelet, a young poet and lover of famous French philosopher Voltaire
Modern day: Astrophysicist Olivia and her husband contemplate her discovery of the birth of a star

The common theme for both women is career vs. childbirth. The writing is brilliant, and even explains dark matter and the measurement of mass vs. velocity, in an understandable way. Lots of humor as well--and play close attention to which actors are playing parts in both timelines, so you can fully appreciate the humor of the funniest lines in the play, "Every action triggers an equal and opposite reaction!" The most humorous quoting of Newton's laws of physics ever!

We especially enjoyed the following performances (click here for cast bios):

Carrie Paff (Olivia/Wet Nurse): We loved her in Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde where she played both his manservant (tall, lanky), and a femininely sinister Mr. Hyde
Rachel Harker (Emilie Du Chatelet): Wonderful portrayal of mature intelligence, maternity, and sensuality
Kathryn Tkel (Millie/Pauline): A little screechy as a playful Pauline, but her Millie was so endearing and wonderful she stole most scenes she was in.
Robert Yacko (Voltaire): He seemed over-dramatic at first, but as the show went on, we realized that Voltaire was just larger-than-life.

For a more complete review, click here.

This show reminded us a lot of the Splitting Infinity show from the San Jose Rep's 2008-2009. Both were directed by Kristen Brandt, and shared themes of astrophysics vs. love. Robert Yacko performed in both. Brandin Baron was Costume Designer for both--the costumes were more fun in this show. Bruce Elsperger was also the Casting Director for both shows--well done!

We hope to be seeing more of Kristen's direction in future shows. Legacy of Light was very, very enjoyable!

Good timing too, as it is time to renew subscriptions for next season, and we were not so happy with the last show we saw in January.

The Dresser is one of DH's all time favorite shows, he had been looking forward to seeing in onstage for the first time, after watching the movie again and again. I knew the basic storyline of the decline of a Shakespearean actor, and his faithful servant, Norman, but I had never seen it before.

What we liked:

James Carpenter delivered his usual stunning performance as Norman. Lively, devoted, clearly in love, he was perfect!
The staging--they managed to show us the "backstage", onstage, with the actors taking their bows and performing to whomever was standing behind the left curtain in the real backstage. As a veteran of many high school stage crews, I laughed to think what temptation there would be to make monkeyfaces at the performers and break their concentration.
Costumes were wonderful (as you can tell by my last post, a weakness of mine)
I liked the storyline--interesting dynamic, though it was funny to think almost everyone in the show was apparently in love with "Sir".

What we didn't like:

The pacing was slow. I love theatre, and I was embarrassed to realize I was dozing off during some of this show. The last time I have done that during a live performance, I was pregnant. No such explanation this time around.
The performances were convincing, except *every* line was delivered as if it was the most important line of the play. It was hard to fault the actors, so it may be the direction that was off.

Anyway, based on the strength of Legacy of Light, we've renewed again for next year, but it was a close decision. San Jose Rep is shrewd in its line-ups, as I recall being similarly swayed in past years. They're no dopes.

More Costumes--all new!

2011-03-29T17:00:00.000-07:00

Way back at the end of January, I took an afternoon with my friend Rose to attend the Bay Area Costume Guild Annual Meeting. Click here to learn more about this organization.

I brought the camera, and we enjoyed an excellent luncheon, with dessert, and of course, LOTS of costumes. After enjoying an eyeful last year, I was concerned we might just see the same outfits again. Silly me...these folks are really into costumes, and wouldn't be caught dead wearing the same one twice!

I felt visually sated after this event. Most of the costumes evoked days gone by:

Other costumes evoked faraway places and cultures:

In fact, the costume of the woman below right was from so far away, it was another galaxy! It was worn in an episode of the short-lived but much-acclaimed Firefly sci-fi series by Joss Whedon. (AWESOME series!) She told me the name of the episode, but it escapes me now.

Her friend wore an outfit evocative of another favorite movie, this one about a famous courtesan of Venice: Dangerous Beauty:

Rounding out the movie theme, this funky costume is modeled on one from Alice in Wonderland:

And this one evokes the programs from Tron--front and back views:

I love costumes, and if I did not have children to rear, or a job that requires my daily attention, I could seriously get into this as a hobby. Until the boys are up and out, and I can retire, I'll just have to live vicariously through these annual luncheons. I'm glad Rose is on their member mailing list!

$500 Sweater: Conclusion

2011-03-25T18:00:00.000-07:00

For those who read my series on the origin of my v-neck aran sweater saga, I can happily report that I am *finally* done! For those who missed the series, you can begin reading the story here.

DH and I had a weekend away, which was the perfect time to leave pieces of wet wool drying on pillows on the floor all over my house. No risk of children landing on pins, or adults spilling coffee as they trip over the pillows. I had been a little intimidated about having to block the wool into the right sizes (they would have to grow 4" in width), and it turned out to be easy--no pins needed at all. In fact, they would have stretched 6-8 inches further if I had wanted.

OK, pieces blocked, ready for sewing together, and DH agreed to be my brother's stand-in. It came out GORGEOUS!

The finished sweater is heavy--over 2 pounds of warm wool! That should keep my brother warm. Final tally on the materials for this sweater, adding in $38 for overnight delivery?: Cost of wool, patterns, books, more wool, shipping for all including the final sweater: $408. Keeping my brother warm through the snowstorm coming this weekend? Priceless.

He'd better LOVE this sweater, or I'm coming on a "repo" visit this summer...

DH has asked for a sweater of his own after trying this one on as my model. Since I bought so much yarn in my quest for a single dye lot, I think I might have enough, heh. Here is a picture of DH's sweater, which I'll be working on for the next 9 months...

Date Night at last

2011-03-20T08:00:00.000-07:00

DH and I finally got to see The King's Speech, which we enjoyed very much. It took 4 tries to manage it, but we finally had our first successful "Date Night" of the year--in March! What happened the first 3 times? Let's see...

Attempt #1: Teddy had a sleepover on Friday night, and we agreed to let Barley have a friend over the same night, since he would not have his brother to torment/play with. At the last minute, Teddy's sleepover got changed to Saturday night, so we somehow fouled up our babysitting, such that there were kids here when we weren't expecting there to be.

Attempt #2: We made dinner reservations, timed to allow us to dine and still catch the movie, while getting done before the local drop-in babysitting service closed. As we were signing the boys into the center, they looked up Teddy's birthday, and realized that at age 12, he was over their licensed age. Too old for daycare (this is going to be a problem this summer, too), but too young to leave home alone for 5 hours. And no way was he coming on our date night! Scrap plans again.

Attempt #3: Teddy was going on an overnight (snow) camping trip. Try plan #2 again, only dropping off one kid, who is definitely under age 12. Perfect! Except for inclement weather--the snow camping trip was cancelled at the last minute. Doh! Stuck with 2 kids again, one over age 12.

Attempt #4: Call expensive babysitting service--pay agency fee of 35% on top of $18/per hour nanny rate (mature, licensed, trained, experienced, and background-checked adults cost way more than pizza-eating teenagers). Cost of a night out with my husband? $200. Guaranteed date night with no last-minute snafu? Priceless.

Remembering Nana

2011-03-17T07:00:00.000-07:00

It has become a tradition that I make my Nana's Irish soda bread for St. Patrick's Day every year. Then I had children, and one of them wanted to bring it in to share with his class. OK, 20 thin slices out of one loaf...hmm, maybe I can make 2 loaves. Fast-forward 6 years, and Teddy's class now has 34 students! Add in the one I want to bring into my office, one for a friend we are visiting on Friday, and one for us to enjoy, and that means I need to make six! (Since Barley doesn't care for any baked bread except pumpkin bread, his class misses out)

As you can see below, every round baking pan in the house was pressed into service (including my cast-iron frying pan--which did not cook long enough). I know I could bake them in regular rectangular loaf pans, but that just would not look right to me--it's not how my Nana made them. The picture does not include the one I made for us as a test batch, because that one is already half gone.

The recipe for her Irish soda bread might have been lost forever if not for my younger brother's wife, who measured out the ingredients while helping Nana to make it one day (Thanks, J!). Nana didn't use a recipe, nor did she measure. She just put the flour, etc. in a bowl until it "looked right" and baked it up.

HAPPY St. Patrick's Day!

May you always have
Walls for the wind,
A roof for the rain,
Tea beside the fire,
Laughter to cheer you,
Those you love near you,
And all your heart might desire!

My Winnebago Career

2011-03-13T22:37:00.000-07:00

Things have been crazy busy around here, as you can tell by my lack of posting. Work has been the biggest challenge, but being sick, and then DH being under the weather have also contributed. My biggest distraction in the last week was the departure of my manager of the last few years. She has been AWESOME, and I am going to miss her influence very much. She is moving on, as people and life have a way of doing, and this means changes at my job, of course, which makes us all a little uneasy.

Fortunately, her boss is someone I get along with, and he proved years ago that he values my contribution, when he talked me into staying after I had resigned. And while I know that is supposed to be a bad idea (to stay after you have quit), it has actually worked out quite well.

Anyway, I usually avoid blogging or posting on Face*Book about anything work-related (you never know who might be reading!), but I had to share a funny dream I had while processing all this work-stress. Now, I've been having a lot of work-related dreams since learning my boss was moving on--not all of them have been enlightening, or fun, or even restful.

In this dream, I am driving a giant Winnebago (Merikay, are you listening?), and I am trying to get it to go down one particular street, to get to a certain destination. In the dream, it is just a parking lot, but I needed to get there. This is a HUGE vehicle, and I can't seem to turn the wheel hard enough to go where I want it to--I just keep going straight, passing all the avenues that would take me to the right place.

Suddenly, the Winnebago and I are up on a sidewalk, and I need to find a way to build a ramp that is 3 feet high, so I can drive off the sidewalk and get back to my route.

Did I mention that among other challenges at work, I am trying to get promoted? Does anyone else see the analogy my subconscious has made? The best part of this? I was telling some girlfriends about this, and one noted, "Well, at least you have a bathroom, right? And a kitchenette?"

And that is the funny part of this analogy. I have been very comfortable in my job/career so far--I have work that I enjoy, flexibility to work the schedule and location around my family's requirements, and enough to live on, even in the Bay Area. Not that we're rich (oops, I have to finish that other post series, don't I?), or anything. But we are comfortable. So here I am, counting my blessings again, even as I try to reach for that brass ring.

What not to do in rainy weather

2011-02-25T00:25:00.000-08:00

It is forecast for freezing cold rain the next few days, into the weekend. We might even see snow in San Jose, but I'm not betting on it sticking. I know my East Coast friends and relations will have no pity when I whine about the temperature, so I'll just put on all my woolens and try to stay wrapped up with the heater nearby. Chicken stock is already in the thermal cooker for chicken noodle soup tomorrow.

Even expecting to host a pinewood derby playdate for Barley's friends and all the madness that will entail (we are setting the track up inside the house again), this weekend will be much more restful and relaxing than last. I am recovering from the cold that had me fully in its grip last weekend. And sniffling and coughing away, I sat in the pouring rain for several hours last Saturday to watch Barley play in a soccer tournament (in February? Really? Whose bright idea was this again?!). The only thing keeping me from throwing a full-on pity party was the knowledge that my youngest child had to actually PLAY SOCCER in the freezing rain with no coat, no blanket, wearing shorts! Then he and his father got to get up at 6am to play game 3 on Sunday (luckily there was no rain). All that for 5 minutes of playing time in the last game. Sigh.

DH called home en route from Game 3, and told me they had lost. This meant they didn't make the championship game, and that would allow us to drive to Tahoe earlier. I was relieved. (Does that make me a bad mom?) We were meeting friends for a day of snow play. The boys haven't seen snow for a few years, and opted out of ski lessons to just hang out instead.

Monday, we found a neighborhood hill, and the boys commenced with snowball fights (Barley's favorite), building forts, burying each other in snow, and sledding.

I sat wrapped in blankets trying not to get sicker. Then home again, to clean the house for this coming weekend, and a teaching gig at 6:30am the next day. Big Sigh. Glad to have that marathon behind me.

My personal weather forecast for this weekend calls for lots of hot cocoa.

News Flash!

2011-02-16T22:37:00.001-08:00

I have just cast off the second sleeve of my brother's sweater. Yes, all 4 parts (front, back, 2 sleeves) are now done! Still to do:

Sew pieces together
Knit neck edge
Weave in ends
Steam-block to measurements
Make DH try it on for fit

The odds of my brother getting this before winter ends have just tripled! I think we're up to 15% now, heh!

How'm I doing?

2011-02-12T13:15:00.000-08:00

Life and work are very busy, as you no doubt surmised from my lack of posting. I'll try to skate by today with a quick update on my New Year's resolutions, and hope for more energy and inspiration later this month.

Resolution 1: Lose Weight
While I have not had any measurable success in this area, I've had 3 weeks in a row of making it to the gym multiple times. One of my girlfriends has changed to a 4-10 work schedule, leaving her with Mondays free. We've been meeting at the gym at 7am to do cardio. Even if one of us is late, or can't make it, just knowing someone might be at the gym waiting for me helps motivate me to get out of bed. And once I've become a sweaty tired mess, somehow the rest of Monday doesn't seem so daunting. Anything work-related has got to be better than more cardio, right?

Getting to the gym Monday morning also makes getting there other mornings a little bit easier. I don't know that I will ever look forward to it, but if it becomes enough of a habit, that will be good enough.

My diet isn't really any better, so no weight loss. DH has cut out processed sugar from his diet the last 2 weeks, so lacking company, I may just end up cutting back as well.

Resolution 2: Clear out the House
Not much progress there--shredded a few bags of papers from the home office, but you can't really tell there is any difference. Need more time for this, but there hasn't been much to spare.

Resolution 3: Finish Projects
I am making good progress on my brother's sweater. Front, Back, and one sleeve are finished. One sleeve, sewing together, neckline, and blocking remain to be done. I'd like to get it to him so he can enjoy it this winter. Luckily for me, winter on the East Coast looks to be lasting a couple more months (Sorry guys!). Two pairs of socks for the boys are about 75% complete as well, so we are getting there. And I haven't started anything new, so that is progress of a sort.

Maybe more exciting updates next month.

Are we rich? Part 1 of 3 (maybe)

2011-01-23T16:42:00.000-08:00

Sorry for the minimal posting this month. When I vowed, "Less is More" apparently that meant "less writing, more work".

I envy my soon-to-retire colleague. Approaching 70, she has certainly paid her dues and earned her rest. I just dread that I myself have another couple of decades to go as a salary serf. The older of the two main reasons for my serfdom asked us the other day, "Are we rich?"

A bit startled by the question (we aren't rich), we asked the reason behind the question. Apparently one of eldest's friends was conjecturing out loud in front of him that we must be, because DH's profession is one that requires an advanced post-graduate degree. I choked back a laugh, and eyed DH over the dinner table, letting him take the lead on this discussion. We settled on the standard privacy line of "It's nobody's business how much money we have or make, and no, we're not going to tell our children, either."

Now, the short report card on our status is that we are financially sound. At the moment. Which can feel like or look like wealth when friends and neighbors face unemployment or home foreclosures. We count ourselves lucky in that regard, and continue to work hard in our designated professions to keep things that way. We won't pat ourselves on the back for having "done right", because we know that where we are is as much a result of luck/opportunity, as it is good choices (and some bad ones) that we've made along the way.

We have friends we consider truly wealthy. They live in zipcodes where we couldn't afford a post office box, never mind a mortgage. And while we love them and respect all their hard work to get where they are, it has taken me years to get over my own jealousy over their success. Why do they have the marble-floored mansion, and fulltime housekeeper, and a school district where the GATE program (gifted and talented) offers something more than making Christmas cookies in the lunchroom? I worked just as hard, but have had much less success--what did I do wrong? The best therapy for that, I found, was reading Malcolm Gladwell's book, "Outliers: The Story of Success". So much of that kind of success is timing and chance. And yes, hard work, but in the right environment.

We also have friends who have less than we do. Or we think so--they don't share their financial details with us, and we don't ask. They are raising their kids in single-parent households, shuttling them back and forth with the ex-spouse. Or their homes may be smaller (but no less full of love), or they've had to sell the house for an apartment because home prices and employment did not cooperate. They are working just as hard as we are, I know for sure, and some of them have spent lots of time helping their own children, and mine, by volunteering at school, church, and scouting. They deserve success just as much as we do. Maybe more. I have no answers for why this should be so, other than life is not fair, and we all just do the best we can with what we have. And try to help others when the opportunity arises.

I suppose one simple definition of rich might be that when someone needs help of any kind, to be in a position to offer help is the best kind of wealth. Even if the help is emotional support, rather than financial. In that regard, we are wealthy indeed.

Resolved

2011-01-01T14:06:00.000-08:00

I am not in the habit of making resolutions every year. I feel as if every day is a battle to get more done, do my best, discipline my kids, etc. The date on the calendar doesn't really change how hard I am trying already.

But there are things I want to improve upon, that I haven't been able to work in over the holidays. We are almost done celebrating, and as I start planning to pack up the holiday decorations, my mind has already jumped ahead to what is "NEXT."

My resolutions for the new year are (drumroll please...):

Lose weight. The diet starts after all the holiday goodies are gone, which may be another few weeks. BUT, DH and I have both become complacent about the calories we are consuming, and the cold weather is driving us indoors into our couch. That has to change. I love the healthy heart ad campaign from one of the cereal companies: "Take care of your heart, so you can do more of what you love!" Sign us up.
Clear out the house. As the child of a packrat, I have great difficulty parting with anything. We made great progress after Thanksgiving clearing out the former "Toy Room" to let the boys have their own space--it's been nice to be able to walk into both their rooms. I want to keep up the momentum and get rid of more. Our house is not that large, and it is embarrassing how much of the space is devoted to storing useless junk.
Finish Projects. I am in the middle of many needlework projects: sweater (1), socks (2pair), quilts (3), sewing (2), crochet (2), cross-stitch(1), needlepoint (?), etc. As I make progress on resolution #2, I am sure to find more. I will finish, or discard. Watch for a post later this month where I'll post the whole list and hopefully make progress in clearing out the clutter.

My theme for the new year? "Less is More"

My wish for you all?

"May 2011 bring you less of what you don't want, and more of what you do."

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Zen for the Holidays

2010-12-29T23:46:00.000-08:00

It is always such a marathon this time of year--and judging by the expressions on the faces of fellow parents at the mall, I am not the only one who feels this way. Part of my stress is my innate perfectionist, Type-A, "Driver" personality. Part of it is also the poor planning that yielded two holiday birthdays for our offspring. Not that it was totally under our control, but yeah, if we had counted forward 9 months on the calendar, we could have taken a break.

So, as DH tries to gently remind me to enjoy the holidays more, and stress/worry less, I tried to put everything I've read this year from Gretchen Rubin's wise blog: The Happiness Project, into practice.

Instead of fretting about the Christmas gifts I hadn't finished wrapping, or being annoyed that I'd overpaid for something that went on sale the day after I bought it, or reminding the boys to save that ribbon, bow, or gift bag, I just let the process unwrap on Christmas Eve. We bowed to the pressure of the boys' anticipation and let them open everything, and so did we.

The boys were delighted with their gifts, and disappointed only in the limited amount of time they had to play with all their new booty before it was time for bed. Barley is still enthralled with the painted candleholder I got from a catalog clearance sale last May, which has been biding its time in the closet. It is shaped like a Chinese dragon, and the spaces where adults would put votive candles make for perfect Lego man hiding spaces or marble holders. Teddy, meantime, has been putting on mini-magic shows for us each day, as he studies his book of magic tricks.

I am learning to receive gifts more graciously. Much like I am learning to appreciate chores done around the house, but not quite to my exacting standards. I was able to step back and look at my own loot, and focus on the time, attention to what I like, and the effort that had gone into locating, selecting, wrapping the perfect gift for me. I am chagrined to realize in the past I was just as likely to notice how the size, color, fit, or style would not have been what I chose (though I did usually have the good manners not to mention these observations out loud). I had a much nicer Christmas when I held the thought that it's not about the presents in my mind, even though it was fun to see the boys open their gifts.

I believe this Zen approach to getting through the holidays will also be on my list of resolutions in a few days. Speaking of Zen, I happened to hear the bookstore lady reading this wonderful introduction to Zen in the children's section. I'd previously borrowed Zen Shorts by Jon J. Muth from the library, and regretted not noting the title/author at the time. I scanned the shelves looking for the book, and failing to find it, asked her as she paused between readings where it was. She said it was the last copy in the store, and handed it to me in front of the dozen or so little kids and their parents sitting in the circle for reading time. I felt a little awkward stealing the last copy for myself, and I waited a minute before leaving, scanning the crowd to see if someone else was going to snatch it from my hands. No one seemed concerned, mostly just waiting for me to leave so the reader would move on to the next story.

Not a very zen moment actually, so now you see why I really needed the picture book so badly!

Nerf Invasion

2010-12-27T07:31:00.000-08:00

Our boys had a lot of nerf guns already. Being hippie left-wing pacificists, we're not fond of guns or violent play. Ogres chopping each other's heads off with swords in online fantasy roleplay, or Jedis slashing each other with light sabers--that's cool. Just not real 21st century type violence.

But Nerf guns are different...they're soft, bright orange and yellow, and afford respite from 2 loud restless boys who can't sit near each other without getting riled up and fighting. Sure, they're still riled up, but it is OUTSIDE in the backyard, and with the glass doors and windows closed, the shrieking and yelling don't bother me nearly so much. The neighbors? Well, they haven't complained yet, and we did provide our actual correct phone number when they asked, so we'll just trust they're OK until they tell us they're not.

Teddy and I went shopping for his brother, and he got him the new weapon with the round 35-shot barrel attachment and some extra darts. Since they were buy one, get one 1/2 off, it made sense for him to spend the gift card from his aunt and uncle and arm himself too.

Then the Santa at DH's office Christmas party gave the boys a Nerf rifle--with fold out stabilizing legs and the ability to split into 2 weapons with 6-dart clips. And finally, their best friends gave them each a double-barrel Nerf rifle. These open up in the middle, and load from the back of the barrel, just like real shotguns.

Yes, that's right, FIVE new Nerf weapons in 3 days. I am amazed none of them duplicated each other. Each one shoots farther, faster, or shoots double, leaving their other dozen weapons in the dust. They can now arm a full infantry troop with Nerf guns from their own weapon stock. If the army issued soft foam darts instead of real bullets, that is. Somehow, the Pacifist in me actually likes that idea.

Peace on Earth indeed. Just not in my backyard once it stops raining. Hope all your dreams of Christmas magic have come true as well.

Korean Christ

2010-12-25T19:29:00.000-08:00

I wrote this post for Kimchi Mamas a while back, but thought it would be fun to share on Christmas day with you all. Click here to read the full post.

MERRY CHRISTMAS, Everyone!

Foot in Myth Disease

2010-12-20T22:30:00.000-08:00

As you can tell, the end of year has me in a firm headlock, preventing me from engaging in any of my own personally gratifying activities, as I run the merry holiday chase and throw 2 kids birthdays into the mix just for fun. I am tired all the time, and working hard not to let my inner grumpiness express itself as my outer Grinch. This tiredness might be a plausible excuse for all the following story.

We were on our way to church yesterday, and my mind was ruminating on how Jesus birthday became such a spectacular celebration of mass consumption. DH and I are reviewing the lists of gifts for offspring, seeking that fine balance between Christmas morning magic, and totally overdoing it. I am sure we will err on the side of overdoing.

So, that's where my train of thought was when Teddy asked from the backseat, "Where did all this Santa stuff get started?

I responded, "I think it started in Europe. Every culture there seemed to have their own myth, like Father Christmas, or some such, that delivered gifts to children in celebration of Jesus birthday."

2 beats...

Barley accused loudly from the back seat, "Hey! You just admitted that Santa Claus isn't real!"

DH quickly jumped in, clarifying that we had been discussing how the Christmas traditions from many cultures throughout Europe became merged in America, like Christmas trees, and stockings, and Father Christmas becoming Santa Claus. I jumped in with some garbled logic about how it didn't matter to Santa what people called him, he came anyway...

Teddy kept his mouth shut, sensing the disaster we were trying to avert.

We had a traumatic Tooth Fairy "outing" a few months ago, wherein the boys proved their hypothesis, catching someone red-handed, arm under pillow. That was a tragic night, as our youngest child realized he'd looked backstage before his last baby teeth were gone. Reassurances were offered, but it will never be the same.

Santa has been keeping a low profile this year. No pictures with the bearded man at the mall (any mall), who may or may not be the real deal, or may be just one of many of Santa's helpers. I've suggested the boys write a letter to Santa and get it mailed before it is too late, but they've neither affirmed nor denied their intention to do so. They were at the suspicious/questioning stage the last 2 years, so I think they've accepted whatever conclusions they've worked out in their own minds, and are willing to just go along for the ride. And that's good enough.

Merry Christmas, Everyone.

Tie a Knot and Hang On

2010-11-29T07:00:00.000-08:00

We are trying yet another new technique to manage Barley's anger. He has a special string given to him by his Occupational Therapist, and every time he feels himself heading toward a melt-down, but manages to control his emotions and get calm on his own, he gets to tie a knot in the string.

Once he gets 10 knots, he can earn a treat. This is very similar to the advice given to us by the genius child psychiatrist who first suggested occupational therapy, so it is good to be reminded.

Barley earned his first knot today. He didn't like what I was serving for dinner (what else is new?), and also disdained any of our healthful suggestions of other foods he could get himself to fill his stomach. He was angling for dessert and when denied, headed into the other room and started sniffing loudly to himself. I started to get very agitated, as this is usually the precursor to World War III, but DH reminded me to let him be upset and figure out what to do about it on his own. Barley headed upstairs, and we heard the sound of sandpaper on wood.

We sent Teddy up to investigate, as either parental unit was more likely to trigger an explosion, and when Teddy did not immediately return, we guessed that Barley was actually helping Teddy with a sanding project on his new bed. Good Boy!

A Separate Peace

2010-11-27T07:00:00.000-08:00

While cleaning out the boys rooms in preparation of them getting separate bedrooms, we discovered the missing lock key that used to be in the hallway for accidental lockouts. It turned out that Teddy hid it to prevent Barley from bothering him in the bathroom. Teddy sometimes barricades himself in their shared bathroom when tension escalates between the boys.

When we asked Barley about this issue, he shrugged his shoulders and said he just puts his shoes in front of the door and goes to play his computer games. I asked him if this was to trip his brother on the way out. Barley's clarification?

"No, the shoes are to make it look like I am still waiting for him outside."

Teddy denies ever being fooled by the ruse. We'll never know the truth.

Phase I of The Great Bedroom Separation endeavor is complete. The toy room has been shoveled out, large quantities of toys and stuffed animals have been discarded, and the beds have been moved. There are still posters to rehang, closets to purge and organize, etc. The contents of the toy room have been barfed all over our living room as we sort, assign, and hopefully discard.

However, the main objective of having the boys sleeping in separate rooms has been accomplished. When asked in the morning how it was, Barley reported being able to go to sleep easier at night without his brother chatting at him. Teddy reported being able to sleep longer in the morning without his brother waking him at 6:30 to play video games. Sounds like a win-win all around.

Thanksgiving Review

2010-11-25T23:52:00.000-08:00

We had a lovely Thanksgiving at our house. I hope the same was true for all of you. The boys managed to play quietly, and I don't think the television was on for more than an hour today. Quite remarkable, really.

In an attempt to make the holiday season more manageable this year, DH and I ordered a full turkey dinner from Nob Hill for just $59. It was a moderate success. There was a handy hour-by-hour guide to remind you when each item needed to go into the oven. There was certainly a lot less prep work required, but still plenty to do in terms of reheating, and almost as many tools to wash as if we had cooked from scratch. Below is a list of all the dishes, and our rating of each:

Turkey: Good size bird, precooked. However, I didn't anticipate that it would be precooked but frozen. It must have thawed some in the local store's refrigerator, but this required the usual large roasting pan, and 2.5 hours to warm back up for eating. Lots faster than from scratch--A+
Stuffing: This was not precooked--they provided a tin, breadcrumbs, and turkey broth vegetable mix. I am sure this would have been adequate, but I realized I am picky about my stuffing--I have to have sausage! And celery! and onion! And raisin bread! So, I basically ended up making it myself after all, except for the seasoned broth they provided. Grade: B for effort.
Mashed Potatoes: OK, these were fine, and nice to have already mixed, just had to reheat. Grade = A
Broccoli, Cheese, Rice Casserole: With all the other starch in the meal (potatoes, stuffing, bread), I don't really get why they put rice in the bottom? We realized after we cooked it that we actually like our broccoli just plain and steamed. B for effort--not really their fault we are picky.
Rolls: These were tasty, but we also could have bought these easily, so it didn't really save us much cooking time. Grade = A
Gravy: Again, adequate. Nothing wrong with this the way it was...but my pan gravy tastes better. Probably because I use most of the drippings instead of just a few tablespoons. My gravy will kill you faster, but you'll enjoy the experience. Grade = B.
Pumpkin Pie: This was perfect. Only Teddy and I will eat it though, but can't blame them for my family's pickiness. Grade = A
Cranberry Sauce: This was also fine, but we preferred the canned stuff. B for effort.

Our own additions to the menu:

I made my sister-in-laws mapled sweet potatoes--YUM! Sadly, I learned my sons don't care for this dish. Oh well, more for me and DH!
Pumpkin Bread, of course!
Homemade apple pie was touch-and-go whether it would happen or not, but Teddy's enthusiasm swayed his father into action. It didn't hurt that Teddy peeled and chopped all the apples, and the crust was store-bought.

Overall, would I buy the Nob Hill Thanksgiving Dinner again? Probably not. Other than the turkey, the parts of the meal that were spot-on for my family's palate were the easier dishes, which we would likely just buy anyway. It was certainly less work, though almost as many pots and pans. However, with a whole day to do the cooking, and one son who willingly helps, I think we'll just take it from scratch next year.

The one part that was more than just adequate, was the feeling of gratitude, and the cooperation we had all day. DH and I partnered well in the kitchen, Teddy helped by making breakfast, and eating enthusiastically, and Barley had not a cross word for anyone all day. Give Thanks indeed.

Turkey Warm-Ups

2010-11-24T08:58:00.000-08:00

The after-school childcare center that my children attend some afternoons is also open this week, during the district cutback holiday schedule. Perhaps it is cosmic punishment for leaving my children in alternate care all 3 days before Thanksgiving, as the center director invited me to a special luncheon today. They are going to have a Thanksgiving style meal at lunchtime, complete with turkey, stuffing, etc.

Seriously? The day before the nation gorges on turkey, they're going to have a turkey luncheon? Why would they do that?? All 3 childcare centers my children have attended have done this. The best part is the invitation to the parents to attend the celebration. DH made the error of taking time off work to attend one of these pre-turkey luncheons. Neither he, nor I, had the day off, so he just extended his lunch hour a bit. We figured we didn't want Teddy, who was 2 at the time, to be the only toddler without a parent at this "special" lunch. All went well until lunch was over, and DH had to return to work.

Teddy was just beside himself in tears. We'd never stopped in during the day before, so whenever he saw us, it was always time to go home! There was DH leaving him behind!!! I got a call describing the heartbreak when DH finally escaped. We both felt terrible and realized it might have been better to skip the lunch after all. There were not that many other parents there--they must have known better.

And yes, I've been invited to join the boys at the pre-turkey lunch today. Reliving that memory though, and thinking of the parents who were moved to take their kids home after lunch...suddenly I have insight on why daycare centers might like serving this meal. It just seems wrong to eat turkey and NOT take your kids home with you after. I'll have to fortify myself beforehand.

The grass is always greener on the dark side

2010-11-15T06:00:00.000-08:00

After almost a year and a half of trying to do the right thing, we've gone back over to the dark side. We've historically had a fantasy relationship with our lawn, which meant I fantasized that DH would patrol the lawn with a weed fork like my dad used to (minus the black socks, dress shoes, and plaid shorts), and DH fantasized that the lawn took care of itself.

We have in the past, after learning just how incompetent we both are at maintaining the outside of our home, hired lawn guys. Our first lawn guy had maintained our first purchased home for years for the previous owner, and we canceled upon moving in. Weeks of unmowed lawn and rangy looking hedges, finally culminating in automatic sprinklers which did not work due to someone (not me) snipping the wiring with hedgetrimmers. That and a horizontal flood in our garage (long story) convinced us to pay for help.

We've moved twice since, and inherited lawn guys again, continuing the service utilized by the previous owner. When work and income slowed down last year, we cut several expenses, the lawn service among them. I passed a neighbor using an old-fashioned push mower, and asked him where he got it.

No more loud obnoxious leaf-blowers, no more grumpy lawn guy complaining about the fence to the backyard falling apart, no more gas-guzzling polluting mower. Our boys are 8 and 11 now, and can help with the mowing and raking. We can DO this!

Funny how I never noticed before that the %$#%$@# magnolia tree drops huge Jurassic Park style leaves ALL year long. And the push mower works best when the lawn is mowed regularly. When the grass is so high that it lies down, the push mower just kind of flattens it more.

Well, DH's hours have picked up again, so I guess we can swing the $50 per month for the mow & blow lawn guy and his crew to start grooming the grass again. It sure looks a heck of a lot better after they are done. I imagine our neighbors are relieved.

What goes around...

2010-11-11T22:36:00.000-08:00

Scant weeks after laughing my butt off at my dear husband when he finally broke down to get bifocals (because he's OLD, you know!), I find myself needing to take my glasses off when I read. Damn, Karma is a B!tch!

Aging beats the alternative. I contemplate my multiple gray hairs daily now. My (older!!!!) brothers will no doubt be delighted reading this post. I don't have too many, but they are stark and bright in my midnight black tresses. I've been plucking for a few years, but they arrive with back-up now. The plucked hairs taunt me in the mirror as they grow back. They wave in the wind, standing straight up for the first first few inches. Being of short stature, I know everyone I encounter notices them, wondering when I will buckle and start dyeing. To dye or not to dye...once I cross over, it will be a lifelong endeavor. Not yet, Precious, but probably soon...

Colorblind

2010-11-04T07:00:00.000-07:00

Tuesday's post reminded me of a story my Mom told that illustrated beautifully how colorblind children can be. She taught 3rd grade in a public school back East, and the area was largely Caucasian. Our white family with 2 adopted daughters from Korea stood out.

One day when I was visiting my mother at school (I would hang out with her when my elementary school was closed on a day her district was open), we were on line in the hallway waiting to go to lunch. A fellow teacher was walking her class past us, when one of the students grabbed her hand, pointed to me, and asked who I was. The other teacher, Ms. F, explained that I was Mrs. C's daughter, and visiting for the day.

The astounded child responded, rather loudly, that "that girl" couldn't possibly be Mrs. C's daughter... The mortified teacher moved the class quickly out of earshot, and took the verbose child aside to have this private conversation:

OK, Johnny, I assure you "that girl" is indeed Mrs. C's daughter. Why don't you think it could be?

Ms. F prepared to have a discussion about race and family. Instead, this was the response Johnny gave;

Mrs. C has a son who taught us physical education last year. She's too OLD to have a daughter that young!

Gotta LOVE how colorblind young children can be. Not AGE-blind, though, I guess!

Where's the White Glove?

2010-11-02T07:00:00.000-07:00

One cute Halloween story from last week, which I think also reflects the multi-culturalism of the Bay Area, is when I overheard one of the mothers from Barley's room talking to his classmate. The boy was wearing a fedora hat, and a cloth blazer. He could have been taken for almost anything--old time G-man, businessman, whatever. The other parent gamely asked if he was dressed up as a gangster. Now, some necessary background information is that this child is of Vietnamese background, and looks completely 100% Asian. But hey, it's Halloween, we don't have to stereotype by race or ethnicity, right?

After all, when invited to a Disney themed Halloween party for grownups, I opted to be a lady pirate a la Pirates of the Caribbean, rather than Mulan, the only Asian Disney female I can think of. I suppose I could pass for Pocahontas too. BORING. Pirates have more fun!

Anyway, the costumed child looked incredulously at the friendly parent and said indignantly, "No, not a gangster! I'm Michael Jackson!"

I came to her rescue, exclaiming, "Of course you are, honey! We just didn't recognize you without your white glove!"

Scariest Thing Ever

2010-10-31T23:15:00.000-07:00

I loved both boys' costumes, of course. Barley dressed up as a soccer player, which was easy, and a nice break from the last few years of licensed characters or ninjas. Teddy's costume was an even bigger hit though, having been suggested by DH and enthusiastically embraced by fun-loving Teddy:

The Back:

The Front:

#6 was my favorite question.

Teddy enjoyed all the attention from both passing Trick-or-Treaters, and people giving out candy. Many times Barley had to wait impatiently on the sidewalk for Teddy to leave a house after their main mission of candy-grabbing had been accomplished, while people ooooh-ed and aaaah-ed over the the home-made costume. I was glad for Teddy to get some time to show it off, since he'd been laid low by a fever the last few days, and missed both the school costume parade, and any chance of attending any Halloween parties. The only adjustment he wishes he had made to the Pop Quiz was cut-outs for his arms. His arms got tired having to keep his elbows akimbo the whole time to hold his candy bag.

When it's "just us"

2010-10-21T23:12:00.000-07:00

Random conversation from over a year ago:

The fall weather is back and we are on soccer chauffeur duty again, which reminded me of an interesting conversation with my youngest child. As I drove Barley to soccer practice, he was eyeing houses with pretty white picket fences. This is not his first architectural interest. He has a weird obsession with roofs.

Way back to when he was an infant, riding in his carseat behind us, I noticed that he was calmer when we drove through residential neighborhoods. When the nice quaint homes gave way to big box stores, office buildings, or warehouses, he would start to fuss more and cry. He couldn't see much from his car seat, but he could see the rooflines.

Age 4: One day driving home from daycare, he kept asking me what kind of roof we had. It was a condo at the time, I had NO idea, not being responsible for maintaining the communal roof at that point. It was suppertime, and the usual rush and bustle of coming home after work, getting the kids inside, coats off, dinner on, etc. Suddenly, Barley remembered his question, ran outside, and then came in explaining, "So, THAT's what kind of roof we have!" You would have thought he was Einstein completing his theory of relativity--he was that satisfied with himself.

Age 6: A few years later, on the school playground, he found some gritty tar paper scrap from some roof repair done at the school. He carried that thing around for weeks, stroking the sandy surface. For all I know, he still has it stored under his pillow.

OK, so now a fascination was houses with fences. We don't have a fence. Interesting.

     Why do you like the houses with fences, honey?

     They are perfect for a dog--when me and Teddy have the house to ourselves.

     The house to yourselves? Where will Daddy and I be?

     You know...'gone.'

Great--the kid is making plans to bump us off so his brother can have a dog (his father is allergic).

Fraternal empathy: 1 Filial respect: 0

The perils of flying

2010-10-18T22:59:00.000-07:00

Visiting some friends in the city, we went to one of those awesome new attractions this weekend: House of Air trampoline park in San Francisco's Presidio. The boys had a GREAT time bouncing off the walls (literally!) with their friend...for the first 8 minutes. Then Barley bounced on a trampoline where an adult jumped right after him. From what was described later, there was no actual collision, but the second bounce of the heavier adult jarred Barley in such a way that he twisted his ankle badly. A supervising employee had to carry him off the trampoline floor, and we put ice on it. His brother and friend, after making sure Barley's injury was being attended to, ran off to maximize their utility for the remainder of the hour. Poor Barley was stuck with just the game apps on his dad's cell phone to wile away the time.

This was definitely a bummer. Barley was not able to walk on that foot the rest of the weekend, missing a soccer game the next day. After spending an hour in urgent care, getting an x-ray, and doctor's exam, the conclusion was a sprain--wrap it, ice it every 6 hours, no running, no soccer for a week.

We sent Barley in to school with a note to that effect, only to have him come home today, saying his ankle felt good at recess so he played tag. Go figure. We'll see if he's singing the same tune when it is time to go to practice in the rain...

Why he really wanted that pumpkin

2010-10-02T22:19:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was the school Harvest Festival--an annual gala celebration of silly games, corny DJs, more bouncy-houses galore, and tacky trinkets for sale, all toward the laudable goal of school fundraising. With this being our seventh year of attendance, the event has long since lost its shine for us adults, who mainly hope the tri-tip sandwiches will live up to their reputation and the noise won't be too loud.

We plop down at some tables in the middle of all the kinder running around, remind them to check-in with us regularly, and let them loose. With it being a relatively closed environment, and all the parents and teachers knowing which kids go with which adults, it is a safe-enough environment to let them hang out with their friends. If we actually have to hunt them down for any reason, it is do-able.

One silly game that Barley plays every year is the Pumpkin Walk. You walk along a plastic mat with numbered pumpkins on a path as music plays. When the music stops, you stand still while the booth-operator calls out a number. If you are the lucky child standing on the number, you get to pick a free pumpkin.

These are small decorator pumpkins that can sit on a table or sideboard. Not even big enough to scoop out and carve properly. Sharpie pen or crayon is the best way to decorate it. We warned both boys that if they played this game, they would have to carry the pumpkins around and home. Teddy skipped it, but Barley went right for it, "winning" a pumpkin easily and quickly. Since he won't even carve the larger pumpkins with me, we wondered why he wanted it. On the way home, the mystery was solved:

"Mom, can you make canned pumpkin out of this?"

Someone is hoping for some pumpkin bread!

The biggest socks I've ever knitted

2010-09-30T22:02:00.000-07:00

Behold the largest socks I've ever knitted: intended for my nephew who wears size 10 shoes. Yes, the color variation is intentional, even the green vs. blue top edge of the socks. My nephew is an artist, and I think he will appreciate the variety.

He came to visit us this summer on his way to his job teaching art camp. We are hoping he will repeat the experience next summer so we can see him again.

The boys enjoyed having another audience for their antics, and someone to ride roller coasters with when Mom and Dad got tired. They also showed him the ins and outs of the exhibits at the Monterey Aquarium.

Having my own artist-in-residence made wandering the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art and the San Jose Museum of Art a very interesting experience. He knew of all the artists, and had met many of them. He shared impressions of their personalities, and pointed out facets of their work that I would probably have missed on my own. We kept running into people he knew from the art world, which was fun.

We explored the Japanese Tea Garden at Golden Gate Park, and traveled to Sausalito, which I had never been to before, despite living here over a decade already! Unfortunately, I had left my purse and wallet home for our day trip into the city, so I had to mooch off my nephew all day. That was a little embarrassing. Luckily, he had cash, or else it would have been a very boring trip indeed.

It was interesting having a "boy" in the house who was really an adult. We could loan him the keys to the car, and ask him to pick up milk or run to the post office. Our little guys are just barely emptying the dishwasher for me, with reminders. I can see why my brother and sister-in-law missed having him home with them.
I only hope that my two will grow up to be as polite and self-sufficient when they get older. Until then, it was a pleasure to peek into the future a little.

The Blessings of Stress, Part 2 of 2

2010-09-28T22:26:00.000-07:00

Yesterday's post was already too long, so I saved this part for today. Here are some other stresses dogging me lately:

My work is evolving in such a way as to push my career in a new direction, which I don't oppose completely. However, growth comes with growing pains, and I am definitely operating outside my comfort zone, trying to take on more responsibility in areas I don't really have direct experience for. We're going to find out just how fast a study I can really be.
DH's job is increasing in hours, which puts more strain on the family, as he has to shed some of his after-school care duties.
Barley's emotional issues continue. We get a little more insightful week-by-week on how to manage his moods, and we have a prescription that we are in the process of getting rubber-stamped by our HMO so it will be covered. That should be interesting.

The Blessings that I can count in the above:

I have work, and it is growing. There is a risk in moving to new areas of responsibility, and my typical fear-of-failure anxieties are kicking in. However, there is no sign of work slowing to the point of layoff, and when other people I know are unemployed or worried about becoming so, this growth-stress is better.
DH is bringing in more money recently, which is helpful considering issues with Barley
We are trying more strategies to help Barley control his temper. Recent incentives in place to reward him when he reins in the anger are helping, and we have this prescription that might help

Bonus blessings I must remember to count:

Barley gets his homework done in school and at after-school care. When all the other 4th grade parents are commenting about their children's struggles with the increased homework load, we are barely even seeing Barley's textbooks.
After a rough couple of weeks, with frequent calls from his teacher about missing homework, Teddy seems to be pulling it together. We are receiving calls from friends about homework in the evening, but so far, Teddy and Barley have each only had to make 1 call.
Knock on wood--everyone is healthy for the moment

I remember reading some saying years ago, about being grateful for mundane things, like, "Be grateful for dirty dishes, this means you have had food to eat". I am trying to be better about these things.

The Blessings of Stress, Part 1 of 2

2010-09-27T22:44:00.000-07:00

I've been feeling very stressed out lately, as you can tell by the drop in my postings. I will begin with a litany of complaints, but bear with me. This post is not a complete pity-party, I promise.

Life is busy, busy, busy. This past weekend I was hopping from Friday night to Sunday night, nonstop it felt like. The schedule looked like this:

Friday night:

Date night with my girlfriend celebrating her birthday. We went to our favorite restaurant, and caught a chick flick: "Eat Pray Love", rolling home by 11:30pm.

Saturday:

Got up at 6:20am to get to Barley's soccer tournament game at 8:00am
Stuck around for game 2 in the hottest weekend of the year, finally rolling home by 12:30
Ran to mall for birthday gift, home to wrap it and get Barley ready...
to attend friend's birthday party at 2pm
Arranged for Teddy to go swimming with a friend at the same time. Pool turned out to be closed, so Teddy's friend's father took them to the water slide park at Golfland instead.
I sewed some fundraiser items for a bit, then went to collect Barley from the party
Teddy was dropped off
Arranged dinner (have no recollection of what that was now)
we all cleaned the house in preparation for the next day's activities. This weekend is unbearably hot, and we are all exhausted by the end of the day.

Sunday:

Got up 6:00am sharp to get to Barley's soccer tournament again, trying to be on time this time as the coach scolded us all for being late to warmup, after which the boys played like slugs Saturday morning.
Got showers this time.
Home by 12:30 again, just in time to...
Rinse off Barley and get him changed before our guests arrive for
The monthly Dungeons and Dragons game starting at 1:00pm.
I am now free to meet a friend who is selling her scrapbooking tools, and
Buy the extra birthday presents I should have bought yesterday while I was at the store already.
Home to sort all the new papers, and
Make dinner for 7, and try to clean up after.
Boys get full showers after guests leave, and we all collapse into bed exhausted, AGAIN.

Yes, a completely insane weekend. We survived it, but are all tired. As I try to figure out in my head what we are doing wrong with our lives that our weekends are so out of control, it occurs to me that my thinking may be in the wrong direction. Yes, we need to monitor and evaluate to be sure we are not over-committing. But every family will have convergences in their schedule, where everything seems to happen at once.

What I was missing as I mused about what was "wrong" was what was "right" about all this. The reason we were so harried and stressed, was because our lives are so rich in blessings. (smack forehead over stupidity of perspective!)

As hectic as it all was, I can count the following blessings in the insanity of the weekend. I could come up with more given time and energy:

I have a wonderful girlfriend to have dinner and see movies with
We are financially sound enough that the above does not stress me out
Barley has found a sport he does well in, and has a great coach and team that he has been part of since he was 5 years old!
Heat was easier to play in than cold rain
Both my boys have friends who like them enough to invite them to birthday parties and swimming. The birthday party was literally next to our house--how much of a bummer would it have been had he NOT been invited?!
Everyone pitched in to clean the house, with minimal grumbling
We had one win Sunday morning. More would have been better, but we had at least one.
The boys have 3 friends who like to play D&D with them, and their parents are supportive
DH is a great Dungeon Master, willing to put in all the time to create the scenarios for them
I have friends who share my hobbies, etc.

I could go on...and I will tomorrow. This is enough for now.

Use Your Noodle

2010-09-21T18:00:00.000-07:00

I had this cryptic conversation, while poolside, with my 8-year old this weekend:

Me: "Honey, where's your other shoe?"

Barley: "I have a noodle, Mom!"

This is not as nonsensical as it seems, but it took me a minute to figure out what he was talking about. Barley was waving a styrofoam swimming "noodle" at me during this conversation. The neighborhood pool staff will loan out pool toys to kids who ask for them. They require that you turn over one shoe as insurance against you leaving the pool with the toy. Very clever, actually. I didn't even realize Barley knew the policy already.

My brother's $500 sweater, Part 3 of 3

2010-09-19T23:42:00.000-07:00

To read Part 1, click here. To read Part 2, click here.

So, new pattern in hand, I started swatching again. But the new pattern didn't look quite right to me. The cables were lovely, but something was missing. The pattern was called "The Cricket Sweater", and the book was all about tea, and fashions on the subcontinent, which is rather far away from Ireland. Most Aran sweaters have a center panel in a honeycomb or crosshatch pattern, which this one did not. It is a gorgeous sweater, and I may attempt it for myself. But this was not my brother's fisherman sweater.

I returned to my multitude of swatches, and decided to steam block them all. Perhaps I could shape them to the desired gauge and move on with my life. After steaming all the swatches into submission, I finally decided on Dale of Norway Freestyle. At over $5 for a mere 87 yards, this would put my raw materials cost for this sweater at $100, not including all the skeins and patterns I had already purchased in my quest. But, he's my brother and I love him. Even if his short stubby neck does require an elusive handknit pattern. He claims this comes from our Irish heritage, along with his barrel chest. Being adopted, I can look forward to skipping those blessings.

I went online again, and learned my first source for the yarn did not stock enough skeins for the sweater. In fact, most yarn stores did not. I found only one online store with more inventory than the 18 skeins needed for his size. I ordered 22 just to be safe--extras could always turn into mittens or scarves. The store contacted me to say that while they had plenty of skeins, they were not all the same dye lot. 18 were one dye lot, and the rest were 2 other different dye lots.

Now, the idea of a "dye lot" on undyed yarn seems strange at first--the color for a traditional Irish fisherman's sweater is "natural". Not bleached white, just the color of the wool as it comes off the sheep. I suppose this just means that color varies from sheep to sheep. If you gathered up 12 blondes in a bar, excluding the peroxide-enhanced ones, the color of natural blonde would still vary. So too with sheep.

Anyway, I explained that the sweater only called for 18, the extra were just insurance, so ship away! I dove into the box as soon as it arrived, and cast on: 111 stitches. I finished the 3 inches of ribbing, switched to larger needles, and started the cable pattern...FINALLY! As I was reading the pattern, which can be tricky as all the sizes are printed together, as in:

K1, P1 12(14,16,18,20,22,24) times

You circle the number that matches the size you are knitting (I bolded it above), and translate the instructions in your head to read:

K1, P1 18 times

As I was double-checking to be sure I was marking the correct number for each instruction, I noticed that I had made an error. Instead of reading my brother's girth in the row asking for "Fits Size:", I had read it in the row marked, "Finished Size:" HORRORS! This error meant that I was instead knitting a sweater that would be exactly as wide around as my brother--no give, no ease. It would fit him as tight as a nice warm, wool sausage casing!

UGH. Reading the chart correctly this time, I realized I needed not 18, but 23 skeins of yarn! And my "etail-er" did not have 23 matching dye lot balls of yarn! In a panic, I emailed her anyway, and all my knitting friends. We debated knitting one sleeve or one cable in the smaller volume dyelot, or the back vs. the front. It would be doable, and in indoor lighting, should not be too noticeable. I was already facing the frustration of having to rip out the knitting I had started to reknit at 129 (not 111) stiches. AAARRRRGH!

My e-tailer called all her knitting store contacts to try to find more yarn in that dye lot. I emailed every online store I found with any of the Dale of Norway in stock, asking them to check their yarn wrappers. I posted a plea on Ravelry listing the yarn, brand, and dye lot, hoping for a miracle match. When my original store called me back, she said the news was not good. The poor economy was driving a lot of smaller and independent yarn companies out of business, and deliveries from Dale of Norway were getting irregular. Being manufactured in Europe, there was no telling if there was any way to get more. Resigned to clever hiding of the color change (which was visible in good light), I cast on and knit away. I ordered the remainder of her available stock, thinking that blending more shades would fool the eye better than just 2 which might look stripey.

I got an email from one online vendor who specialized in Dale of Norway. She offered to contact the North American warehouse distributor for me, to see if they had full bags (20 skeins) in matching dye lots left. Having already spent $250 on this quest, I couldn't imagine spending another 100 on more yarn, so I politely declined her offer.

But as I kept knitting, trying to regain the progress I'd made on the inadequate 111 stitches before, I couldn't let go of it. It bugged me to have to knit cleverly to hide the color change, and so decided it would be worth it after all to try. She called the warehouse, confirmed they could ship her 40 matching skeins of natural, and we negotiated the price. She gave me the full bag discount on the first 20, and then sold me 8 more skeins at regular price. She would keep the remaining 12 in her inventory. My new total on the sweater? $370. OK, I exaggerated with $500, but I am not closing the books on this until the dang sweater is on his back!

So, now I have enough undyed yarn on hand to knit 3 Aran sweaters in varying sizes. What matters, though, is that the one for my brother is going to all match. One sweater, one sheep. That's the right way to do it.

Finally, here is a picture of the sweater, or at least the start of the first piece.

I've told my brother to stay healthy for a long time, as this will take a while. It's already been almost a year since I started on this project! All this, because I can't knit him the kidney he really needs.

My brother's $500 sweater, Part 2 of 3

2010-09-15T22:39:00.000-07:00

To read Part 1 of this sweater saga, click here.

After finding the pattern, the next step is to knit a swatch. This means to knit in the pattern, about a 4-inch or larger square, so you can compare your stitching gauge to that of the pattern writer. If the author knits big, and you knit small, you could end up with a cute tiny sweater that does not at all fit your intended recipient. Already challenged by knitting for someone on the opposite coast, and having to rely on measurements alone, I wanted to do my best to be sure the finished product actually fit the guy.

One swatch is not bad. Takes an hour or so--I knit wider swatches to be sure the edges don't distort the measurement (yes, I can be a bit OCD at times). When I visited my brother last year, I brought the pattern and let him feel the swatch. Apparently I knit tight, or my yarn was thin, because I had to go from needle size 8 to 11 to get the right gauge (measured by number of stitches per inch). My brother confirmed my fear--the swatch was a bit flimsy. An Irish fisherman's sweater should keep out the cold of rain and seawater, by God, or at least keep an ex-cop warm in winter.

OK, time to look at other yarns. Buying a sample skein for $8 isn't bad. It's when you buy 8 different brands and have them shipped to you from all over the country that it starts to add up...as does all the swatch knitting:

As you look at the number of swatches and add them up, you come to the same conclusion I did, which was that I could have been done with 1/3 of the sweater by now! Frustratingly, none of the swatches came out quite right. The Cascade 220 yarn, which every knitter I know RAVES about being the BEST yarn EVER, was too thin. The others were too smooth, too thick, too bumpy, too yellow, too white, etc. I felt like Goldilocks stuck in a house with no "just right" chairs in sight. The gauge was off by a stitch, which doesn't seem like much, but when multiplied over the hundreds of stitches in a sweater, could have me knitting a tent or a tank top for my brother instead of the intended sweater.

I was back to researching patterns again. If I couldn't find yarn to match the gauge, perhaps I could find a sweater pattern that required a gauge matching one of these swatches? This had all started in October last year. It was now March, and Stitches West 2010 was coming to town! Here was my opportunity to do more yarn and pattern searching. I found another V-neck cable sweater pattern (the book is displayed in the linked blog post), for $30, rounding out my purchases to date to about $150. Oh yeah, did I mention I'd already bought enough of the ill-fated Cascade 220 yarn to make the sweater, before realizing the gauge was too thin? Oh well, I only have one brother...no, WAIT, I have TWO. But the other one lives in Florida and does not need or want a sweater. Phew!

To read Part 3, click here.

He's Bilingual

2010-09-14T23:15:00.000-07:00

In lieu of part 2 of the sweater saga, which is suffering from photographic technical difficulties, I will share this funny story overheard this week:

A worker of Mexican heritage is being represented in a matter by an attorney, and an interpreter. The opposing party (OP), irritated at the presence (and expense) of both the interpreter and the attorney, decides to try to prove the worker is faking his lack of English.

OP: How could you have filled in these forms if you don't speak/read/write English?

Worker (through interpreter): There are instructions in Spanish for each space

OP: So, how could you write the answers in English?

Worker's attorney: Could you show me where you believe he has written in English?

OP: He wrote his address!

Worker's attorney: I see. So, "San Jose" and "Santa Clara" couldn't be understood by a Spanish speaker?

OP, sensing he is losing the battle: Well, what about the numbers, then?!

Worker's attorney: I believe those are arabic numerals...

My brother's $500 sweater, Part I

2010-09-12T22:47:00.000-07:00

I'll start by explaining my unintended sabbatical. Mid-August was work-intense, and then school started for both the boys, and then fundraising and volunteering. So, it's been crazy around here, and sleep has been edging out both Facebook and all other electronic diversions.

I have been making progress on other fronts, though, which this post will illustrate as I tell the story of my brother's $500 handknit sweater:

The father who raised us both was born of Irish immigrant stock. We all have fond memories of Dad in his classic fisherman's sweater, which may or may not have been made for him by my Newfie mother. My "little" brother has always loved these style sweaters, and coveted one for himself. The catch is that he prefers V-neck, and these sweaters traditionally come in round neck only. Being designed for warmth, why would anyone knit a V-neck and doom their fishing man to a cold neck and chest?

I tried to be a good sister, ordering him an authentic Irish sweater, knit as a cardigan, buttoning in a V down the center. His loving sons ridiculed him, comparing him to Mr. Rogers (who is not known for being Irish, was he?). My search for a knitting pattern began, as I realized a store-bought V-neck aran sweater was not to be found. (If you find one now, I don't want to hear about it. Well, maybe I do. No, I definitely don't. Never mind...)

Searching through all my knitting books, my friends' knitting books, etc, for months, no, years, resulted in no success. I found V-neck arans all right, but having already broken one traditional fisherman's sweater design rule, it seemed they all went out the window, and the new neckline was overlapped, enlarged, or bedecked with lace, in such a way that the sweater was barely recognizable anymore.

Then I found the missing holy grail online, in Ravelry, which is social networking just for knitters. If you knit and do not already belong, you should definitely check it out! I found a picture of a V-neck aran sweater that someone in England posted, and emailed her to find out the pattern name. She kindly obliged, and then I searched online both inside and outside of Ravelry to locate a store that carried the pattern. No luck in the USA. A store in eastern Canada was willing to ship it to me--hurrah! They emailed me first to be sure I understood what I was doing. The postage would cost me more than the pattern--"Yes, I know it seems crazy, but please overnight it to me!"

Below is a shot of the pattern.

More on the sweater saga tomorrow. Or the day after, I promise! I am working deadly early tomorrow, and need to turn in.

Read Part 2 of 3 here. Read part 3 of 3 here.

My other blog

2010-08-18T18:00:00.000-07:00

With all this camping this summer, I've been wondering if there are cultural differences in how we camp? I blogged about it on Kimchi Mamas last Friday. Check it out to see if there are any responses.

My attempt at an online Book Club Meeting for the same blog kind of fizzled--not many comments. Mostly, I think people just liked having a recommendation of a book to read about Korea. If you like reading book reviews with spoilers, you can read that here. Or just go get a copy of The Calligrapher's Daughter by Eugenia Kim and read it first. It was excellent!

It's My Day

2010-08-16T18:00:00.000-07:00

DH hated dodgeball as a kid, and yet they played it every Friday on the playground at school, without fail. He hated getting hit with the ball, he couldn't catch, and it was always just a matter of time before he got nailed and sent to sit down.

Until one day, something special happened. He was tired of feeling like a dodgeball victim, so he decided--just DECIDED that he was going to have a good dodgeball experience for once. He was going to catch the ball today, and he was going to hit the people on the other side, and NO ONE was going to hit him with the ball. Today was going to be *his* day. And the most magical part? It worked. He was on fire. All the other kids were amazed, because they had never seen him catch even one ball before. Now he was catching every one that came anywhere near him.

I think I had heard this story before, but it was deep in the recesses of my memory.

Well, Barley had a pretty amazing game last weekend. We've gotten used to his never starting a game. There are times when we can see the coach looking to put in a substitute player, and Barley is several feet away, playing with the grass instead of paying attention to the game, his back to the field. The coach puts in someone sitting closer who is focused on the action. Sigh. DH and I joked that we should donate a comfortable bench as the team assembles its equipment, since our son will clearly be spending a lot of time sitting on it. As non-jocks, this does not surprise us as much as the fact that Barley does actually have some athletic skill.

Anyway, DH and I both sat up when we saw that Barley was actually in the starting line-up at the opening whistle last weekend. And he was a Forward! Most of Barley's field time lately has been in the goal box, and sometimes as a Defender. Rarely as a Midfielder, which he loves, as it means he is allowed to be anywhere on the field.

We have several great aggressive Forwards on the team, and seeing Barley playing that position made us nervous, while excited at the same time. The end of last season, he "accidentally" scored TWO goals, so it was nice to see him have a chance to do so again. While the goals are costing the other parents $5 each time their kid scores, DH and I have a sweet deal--one full roll of Lifesavers hard candy--costs $1. Although we have explained the economics to Barley, he still wants the candy instead--go figure.

Barley was all over the ball. He passed and then got in position to receive it back. At one point, when a teammate kicked toward the goal, Barley kept running, so that he was in position to kick the ball AGAIN when the goalie blocked but fumbled the catch. Their goalie recovered and blocked it again, but we were terribly proud that Barley had put himself in the position to take that second shot. By the end of the game, we were ecstatic at his play. Yes, the team had won, even though Barley scored no goals of his own. We were very proud, and very excited at the focus and great effort that Barley put in. It was a nice turnaround from the whining about not wanting to go to practice that we have been hearing the last few weeks.

On the ride home, DH asked Barley what made the difference for him today? Barley's answer puzzled me until DH put it in the context of his dodgeball story:

"It was My Day today!"

Growing up, Staying Up

2010-08-14T15:00:00.000-07:00

Teddy has had the same bedtime as his brother forever. Lately, he has also been getting phone calls from friends to meet online to play a game, often 5 minutes before that bedtime. Well, it is summertime, so maybe other kids are staying up later. One child who called, we know routinely stays up until 11pm. Frankly, DH and I need the boys to go to bed sooner than later--we are just to darn tired, and we need the break.

I've watched Teddy's reaction as he had to tell his friends he couldn't play at that time. He was upset, disappointed, and a little embarrassed. His bedtime seemed to be pretty early compared to his friends, and while he did give us looks to ask if please just this once he could stay up later, he accepted it when we told him no.

He didn't pitch a fit. He didn't whine that all the other kids get to stay up later. He just shrugged, and shoulders slumped, joined his brother in getting ready for bed.

That more than anything else persuaded me to persuade DH that we should make a change. Both boys are routinely up in the morning hours before it is time for school, so they were clearly getting plenty of sleep. And while not physically ready to separate their rooms yet, individual bedtimes might help give them a little space away from each other. DH agreed.

We explained the change to the boys, with the caveat that we would be monitoring behavior, and morning routines. We made sure to let Teddy know that part of the reason we had decided on the change, was the very calm way in which he accepted our instructions when his friends had called. His ability to handle disappointment without pitching a fit, or even whining about it, showed us that he was maturing. He spent his first late night playing online--of course.

They have their own thoughts

2010-08-12T22:26:00.000-07:00

It's been a rough evening. Despite numerous warnings about the impending bedtime, Barley had his usual difficulty with transition. Where other children can be warned in sequence to help them adjust to the coming change:

T minus 30 minutes: "Video games off in 20 minutes"
T minus 10 minutes: "OK, time for video games to be off"
T minus 0: "Time for bed!"

For Barley the above translates to:

T minus 30 minutes: "Video games blah, blah, blah, blah"
T minus 10 minutes: "OK, blah blah video games blah blah"
T minus 0: "Time to ruin your life!"

Eventually he got that it was time for bed, so he turned and said, "OK, just let me finish this battle and 2 more!"

I did not handle this calmly. After warning him for half an hour that bedtime was approaching and he needed to disengage, his response translated in my brain to, "OK, I am ignoring you, and will ignore you for 15 more minutes!"

Things escalated from there, to the point that DH came tapping me on the shoulder to sub in as parent on duty, sending me to the couch to cool off, while he dealt with a weeping Barley. The %#$%$%$ computer game was still running as they left the room. I turned if off with some small petty satisfaction.

At this point, Barley's usual dysfunctional anger pattern kicked in, and he kept making bad choices. Despite completing Anger Management class number 3 in 2 years, Barley shows no signs of learning anything. He refused to use any distraction techniques, and chose to "isolate" himself (for calming down) in the middle of the room where bedtime was happening. When very politely asked to move out of the way by DH, he kicked, threw a pillow at his father, and then threw a shoulder into him on his way past. After moving into the toy room, he threw legos at both of us as we walked by the doorway. I followed DH's wise advice to stay out of his way and not engage. Barley and I both have the same temper, and I can pile on punishments as fast as Barley can throw toys at me. Not a good dynamic.

While surfing online (my own distraction technique), I saw this poem on a friend's blog. It seemed very relevant for what I was feeling.

Excerpt of The Prophet: On Children
by Kahlil Gibran

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.

You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

The full poem, and other Kahlil Gibran quotes are posted here.

After calming down, I was mostly sad that Barley consistently chooses to stay with his anger when he gets upset. He doesn't want to talk about what upset him, not even after he has calmed down. He either fuels his irritation, looking for reasons to continue to be angry--any slight will do. Or he buries it once he has calmed down, refusing to discuss what upset him, how he reacted, how he felt then or feels now. Without being able to talk to him about these episodes afterward (during is not possible, nor advisable), I am really at a loss to help him. I can only guess at the triggering event, guess how or why it bothered him, and try to avoid the triggers in the first place. Neither of us is learning anything about how to help him manage his emotions.

What really strikes me about the poem is how true it is that this is his own life. His choices, his thoughts, his feelings, his consequences. Unlike our older child, whom I can guide while watching him maneuver through life, Barley struggles to find his own way. I can give him general guidance and tips, but because he refuses to let me "see" things from his perspective, it is like telling someone how to navigate a room blindfolded, except the lights are off, and I can't see the furniture either. I hope there aren't too many sharp corners.

Why I don't hang with other adoptees

2010-08-06T22:10:00.000-07:00

When I quit the email list of Bay Area adult adoptees, I told them, and myself, that it was due to the activities being incompatible with my lifestyle. My little suburban neighborhood is a 90-minute drive away from San Francisco, and almost as far from Berkeley, where most all of the meet-ups and activities were. Add to that the conflict between weekend soccer tournaments, scouting trips, and other day-in-the-life of a suburban working-outside-the-home mother, and I could never seem to attend.

Most of the activities were also geared to adults, not children. Dragging my 2 boys along did not appeal, and time away from them to be on my own is so rare, that I invest that in my girlfriends or my spouse.

But there is another reason I didn't gel with this group. It seems to me that when Korean adoptees gather, it is mostly to commune and share their common grief and loss. The loss of culture. The loss of country. The loss of family if they were old enough to remember them. There is criticism of the Korean culture that values bloodline so much, that Korean families do not generally adopt Korean orphans. The government's lack of social programs to support unwed mothers and their children, whence comes the current supply of Korean babies for adoption. The racial issues that Korean children adopted into white culture must weather, and their parents' preparation, or lack thereof to handle such.

I don't mean to dismiss any of these concerns and criticisms. I know there is truth in each of them. My own adoption experience was not perfect either. I faced a great deal of racism growing up in my all-white hometown. The daily hazing both scarred and strengthened me in equal measure. During elementary school, I was both shy and timid as a result of the racism I confronted at the bus stop, on the playground, in the hallways, and in my own neighborhood. I fought my way out of that in my teens and early adulthood to become a strong, take-no-shit feminist. But I still carry perceptions of myself that I know were forged when I was under 10 and felt alien and unattractive.

I just don't believe, when it all comes down to it, that adoption was in any measure a bad thing in my life. Instead, I believe I won the freaking lottery. Happily ever after arrived for me at age 6, and has continued to be a blessed life. I read Sara Crewe, Oliver Twist, Daddy Long Legs, Lousa May Alcott's Rose Campbell in "Eight Cousins", and identified with every one of the orphans rescued by someone loving at the end of the book.

Were my adoptive parents perfect? Heck no. I could tell you now, and certainly told them in my teens, everything that they did wrong in raising me. But the issues we had were not about race--they were typical issues that I believe many parents and children struggle with, and could have happened just as easily with biological family, as not. They provided me with love, guidance, financial and emotional support--all that you could ask for in a family.

So, while I respect the varying opinions of my adopted peers, and value the thoughtful insight of Jae Ran Kim's blog, Harlow's Monkey, I just don't relate to it from my own experience. Whether I have a more optimistic life view, or just haven't examined my own feelings enough to understand them, I can't say. Certainly, I accept that my sister's experience was not as smooth as my own. But I am not sure that her issues and challenges had anything to do with international adoption per se, as opposed to too-late diagnosed health problems, learning and emotional disorders, and a clash of personalities between her and my mother.

Jae Ran Kim's quote about being "more than the sum of our losses" is a beautiful and courageous thought. I just see my international adoption as having been a huge gift, rather than anything to overcome.

All the nags I didn't nag

2010-07-29T18:09:00.000-07:00

I practically bit my tongue off during this week of Boy Scout camping, trying hard NOT to tell Teddy what to do, wear, say. I didn't want to embarrass him in front of his friends, and also wanted him to exercise some independence on this trip. To get it off my chest, here's all the nagging I wanted to do but held in all week:

You've eaten 11 pounds of sugar today...brush your teeth! (OK, I did say that to him one night, but I didn't say it the other 5!)
Don't read--hang out with the other boys
Wash your face, there's dirt on your nose, chin, cheek, ear, etc...
Rinsing in water does not remove much dirt if you don't use soap
Is that the same pair of pants you wore yesterday, the day before, 3 days ago, 4 days ago?
I packed you enough socks and underwear for each day...how many have you actually used so far?
If you are cold, wearing my black sweatshirt (I promise, I don't have cooties!) will keep you warmer than standing there shivering
Tuck in your Class A uniform shirt
Tie your shoes
Listen to your counselors

I was thankful to realize there were surrogate parents all around us. The Senior Patrol Leader enforced the mandatory shower day mid-week. The camp staff checked hands before every meal, sending those with dirty hands to rewash and stand at the back of the line. Older scouts reminded younger scouts to brush teeth, and not sleep in their uniforms, etc. The scouts also checked in with each other to make sure everyone was where they were supposed to be at class times. While not the same level of care/nagging that a devoted mother like myself will provide, his basic needs were taken care of. I might not have to stay the whole week next trip. Thank goodness for that!

Tween to Teen

2010-07-27T17:50:00.000-07:00

We've been doing a lot of camping this week. Teddy and I just returned from a week in Monterey Big Sur's Pico Blanco Scout Reservation. There is a very detailed wiki page here. The reservation, originally donated by William Randolph Hearst to the Scouts, was saved from the 2008 wildfire in the area, thanks to dedicated firefighters, many of them Eagle Scouts.

As we sorted through camping gear for this trip, we realized we need to upgrade Teddy's gear and clothing. The cartoon embellished flashlights and toothbrush were not going to be acceptable for this weeklong camp-out with "big boys" of 15-17.

Despite my concerns about Teddy being the youngest of the group at age 11, he did well joining in with the others. The teasing boy whom I was most concerned about, actually turned out to the one I liked the most by the end of the trip. Behind the teasing, sarcastic facade, he was quite considerate, if a little bossy. The older boys watched out for the younger boys, and while there was some teasing and some hurt feelings, mostly the exchanges were good-natured.