Batching and Chunking

Friends ask me often, "How do you get so much done?"

To which I usually reply: "What are you talking about???"

I usually feel as if I am letting the sand-dust of time slip through my fingers day after day.

But last Friday I did a get a bit of reward for my hard work. Using various business strategies, I chunked (breaking tasks into do-able chunks) and batched (putting like tasks together in batches) my way to Task Completion.

In a 3 hr time frame I needed to:

* feed my kids a healthy dinner, prep to clean-up
* get in a good, full one hour workout at the YMCA
* do all Christmas present shopping for the kids and the kids' presents for each other

Hum.

I drove the kids to a store that had only high-quality gear, a Mom & Pop shop with great taste. I gave each child a notepad and pencil so during the 7 min drive to the store, the kids all brainstormed for what they wanted for Christmas.

When we got to the store, I took one child at a time around the store, had him/her review his/her siblings' lists, picking out presents for each sibling and their dad. We dropped the presents in a basket behind the counter and presto, about 45 min later, all presents had been acquired. I purchased them, asked the staff to wrap them all, and the big boys walked the little kids across the street to Amelia's, an all-organic super cool health food diner, just like I would make at home if I had a few hours to prep the food.

While the kids were happily munching (no worries -- the big ones are more than capable of watching the little ones, probalby even more protective than I am), I ran, yes, r-a-n over the YMCA, got in a good sweaty 45 min and r-a-n back to Amelia's. We picked up our neatly wrapped gifts and headed home with everyone in their proper condition -- sweaty mama, children with happy bellies and a big ol' bag full of presents.

Sigh.

As the kids carried the bags into the house, I thought to myself, "You know, I could have spent weeks driving all over town to different stores agonizing over what to get for each present..."

Nah!

The Professor's Breakfast

I made scrambled eggs and toast for my kids this morning. Kee said, "Mom, these eggs smell sulfuric..."

I guess the eggs had gone bad, but it made me pause for a minute and wonder why he didn't say, "Mom, these eggs are bad." Ha.

S-u-weet!

Eee, Vee, and Kee flew in late last night (Sun night) and I debated over whether or not to hire a babysitter for the little ones or just take them with me and consider it a big adventure. I opted for the chance for Jee and Aee to see what it's like to stay up late.

It was such a blast! We hung around at The Tech until it closed, went out to dinner, and explored the parts of the city that were being lit up by new Christmas lights.

Both Aee and Jee fell asleep in the car on the way home, but were able to walk inside and climb into their beds and zzz.

This morning, I was *sure* that they would be late for school and I figured I would let them sleep until they woke up naturally.

Sure enough, 5 minutes before school, Aee and Jee both woke up, stumbled out to the kitchen and asked for breakfast. They snarfed down a little breakfast, grabbed their lunches, homework and backpacks and waited at the door for me.

They literally rolled out of bed ready to go. They looked pretty good too. (They had changed their clothes right before going to the airport! Their outfits hadn't been worn for a "full day" yet!)

As we walked to school this morning, I was -->beaming<-- with pride. My little well-traveled, rugged road warrior children flopsing their way to school. (It's not really walking, not really wandering, but more of a explore-the-world-as-you-walk type of walk.) I love it. I love it all.

It reminded me of an essay I love: Little Nomad by Naomi Shihab in an anthology titled "Between Mothers and Sons"

Unredo

I love language. My kids love playing with words.

Yesterday we were strolling to school lazily under the orange leafy trees. We happened to get ready for school on time and had the luxury of "taking it slow". We were talking about how people make mistakes & how we learn from mistakes:

Jee: "Mom, just un-re-do it!"

"Wha?"

Jee: "You know, it's that phrase 'just do it' but better."

"Tell me more."

Jee: "Well, with 'just do it' they are forgetting that people make mistakes. Some people 'just do it' then redo it and redo it and redo it (said too many times to repeat) ...until they get it right."

"Yeah..."

Jee: "What if you took your time, thought really hard, and did it right the first time? Then it would be 'just un-re-do it!' That means, don't redo it, just do it right the first time. Hahahaha."

We spent the rest of the walk with Jee & Aee playing with prefixes and suffixes, the current love of both their lives.

Today I am trying to un-re-do it, trying to get it right from the start. Wish me luck.

Party fail.

This post will make the most sense if you are familiar with the Fail Blog. This blog generated all sorts of funnies in our family. For example, last Sunday Eee make fried rice that looked more like muddy farm "sludge". It was a "dinner fail".

Well, we had another birthday party fail today. The last one was Jee resisting going to a friend's party because, "I want to stay home and program! I want to program! No, don't make me go!"

Today was similar, but Jee is apparently becoming a more sophisticated negotiator. This time it was:

* "But mom, if I stay home, I can fix your laptop." (He can.)

* "Mom, they'll have cupcakes or cake or other sweets at the party and those are bad for me. Wouldn't you rather I stay home and not eat sugar?"

* "Wouldn't my time be better spent at my desk, learning something new?" (Yes, he actually talks like this. Sometimes.)

4 knuckles and 2 toes

Why do I love the YMCA?

O, let me count the ways...

One of my favorite parts about working out at the Y is when I see the teacher do a pilates / yoga move and I think, "Pffft, yeah, right! I'm never going to get into *that* position."

Then slowly, bit by bit, aligning knees, ankles, hip bones, moving up the spine like stacking Legos, straightening arms, flexing feet, adjusting shoulders... and before I know it, I am balancing the entire whole of myself on my two big toes and only four knuckles total.

If I could fly like a bird, a passive aggressive bird, it would probably feel a lot like this.

Best Edge #3

I think there might be Five Edges in here somewhere, but this is the one that jumped out at me today. Note that I do not actually follow any of these Best Edges consistently. I just do my best to remember them and implement them when I can.

Best Edge #3: Fiercesome Focus

Apparently, a person can get a lot more done when they focus fiercely on one thing at a time.

Like right now, Vee & Kee are at a friend's birthday party. Eee, Jee & Aee are playing piano at a community center building. I am home doing... I forgot what I was doing actually. So, I am going to try this fiercesome focus thing on... Hum. On... downsizing our house by five more boxes. Ready, set, go!

1,

2,

3,

4,

5.

Done!

Try it. It is fun.

What happens when you don't plan

The kids and I have been planning out their extracurricular activities for the 08-09 school year. Aee wrote each activity on a card along with the date and time of the activity.

As I laid out their chosen activities, I realized that Jee's Mondays would look like this:

5:45 Up with brothers (since they always wake him up "by mistake")
7-8 Skateboarding with Dad
8-2:30 School
2:30-3:45 Basketball
4-5 Fencing
5-7 Home, dinner, homework
7-8 Cub Scout meeting with Dad
8:30 Late bedtime

Hum, that's --way-- too much for a 7 yo.

And you know what would have happened if we hadn't written out the schedule?

1. Sign up for classes since they all look fun.
2. First Monday of class, so much of a whirlwind (getting other kids to & from theirs also) that we don't notice what's happening, only that "we're busy".
3. After the first month, burn-out happens. He's tired by late afternoon and we look into dropping a few extras...

There is absolutely no purpose behind the crash and burn approach, although I know that's how a lot of people live.

Planning WORKS.

Best Edge #2

Be appreciative.

This nugget of wisdom comes from one of the most beautiful women I know -- she is always saying how grateful she is for this, that, and the other thing.

So, in an effort to erase some of these worry lines and add a bit more beauty to my day, here it goes.

I am appreciative of:

* a good night's sleep
* dreams that comfort me
* nightmares that help me identify what I am most worried about (so I can fix it)
* a good, healthy breakfast (no sicky sweet cereal for me!)
* kids who wake up
* kids who wake up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed
* kids who wake up in time to walk leisurely to school
* kids who talk to me during said walk
* all the beautiful things we saw on that walk to school -- the weird plants and the way Aee noticed how the world changes from day to day
* the friends who also walked and met us along the way to make our walk even more enjoyable
* friends who ask me about how things are going
* friends who actually want to know the answer
* friends who can give constructive feedback when I give that answer
* friends who leave me smiling (and sometimes who are sad with me)

Pausing for a deep breath... I am appreciative of:

* the Y-M-C-A (can you hear the song when you read that?) and all the wildly enjoyable classes they have
* the workout instructor who played R-E-S-P-E-C-T today and how that song stuck with me throughout the day, shaping my interactions in that ever-so-imperceptible way
* the way my body stood up straighter and breathed deeper after I was done
* the friend I saw in class who I didn't know attended that class and who I wish I could spend more time with

Another deep breath already? It isn't even 10 am yet... I am appreciative of:

* a lot of work to keep me busy
* a clean-enough house
* a desk full of lovely messages
* a bit of quiet
* the six kittens running around under my feet
* the one momma cat slinky around, acting like a rule enforcer of them all
* the way the kittens run around so fast and carelessly that they often hit the wall, door, window like a bird splatting on a window pane
* a bit of relaxing music in the background interspersed with podcasts while working
* an excellent lunch -- salmon on a fresh tossed red lettuce salad along with a handful of cracked pepper Triscuits.

There was so much more, but I think you get the picture. Life is good, but being able to appreciate it is what makes it full of better moments, or possible even best moments.

Isn't it cool when you have moments in life that are "best moments" where nothing else you could be doing in that moment could top what is actually happening?

One of those moments that qualified as a "best moment": A few of the kittens figured out how to use my leg as a springboard. He would run at me, jump / bounce up my leg, onto my desk and smack his little head into my computer monitor. I think he may have been pouncing at the cursor onscreen. Who knows. It was hilarious.

I could have been annoyed, but why?

Best Edge #2 -- Be appreciative.

Dead Cats and Shaved Eyebrows

Yes, our cat died.

No, this won't be the eulogy for the cat.

The kids are setting up a separate web page for that.

But I will share that I got *excellent* advice from friends on how to break the news to the kids and on how to assist in the grieving process.

This is the best bit of advice by far, titled, "Why did Egyptians shave off their eyebrows?"

"Shaving off the eyebrows was a sign of mourning. An entire family would do so if their pet cat died. Remember, the cat was a sacred animal to the Egyptians. the cat represented Bast (Bastet), and the family would remain in mourning until their eyebrows grew back."

And now y'all are going to be anxious to see us, trying to catch a glimpse, "Do they still have eybrows? Do they? Do they?"

HA.

Best Edge #1

I have been holding on by the skin of my teeth these last few weeks. I'll post more about it later, but for now I wanted to do a short series of my favorite nuggets of wisdom that I have collected from friends.

These are things I am trying to implement and I don't want them to slip through my fingers, so I am giving them a smidge of permanence on my blog. I am calling them the "Best Edge" bits. "Best" because they have risen to the top over any other concepts I have heard and "Edge" because they are the types of concepts that slice through the fog.

Best Edge #1 -- What will I regret the least?

What an awesome tool for making choices! I heard this from a lady who lives thoughtfully and honestly so I thought I would give it a try.

You know what?

I make very different choices when I consider which choices I will regret the least later.

Example: Today was brutal, one of those days where no matter how hard I work and how well I schedule and how much I delegate, there is just now way to reach "good enough". So... I had to find another way to deal with it.

I used all my standard methods of decision making and none brought any clarity to my set of choices. It wasn't until I considered, "What task list will bring the least regret by the end of the day?" With that, I had complete clarity. I spent the day prepping the rental unit for new tenants.

Super cool bonus: The kids worked alongside me, learning all sorts of skills. The Big Boys did quite a bit of manual labor, stayed focused, exercised their persistence. My favorite bit was seeing them, when faced with a seeminly undoable task, grit their teeth and find a way to complete the task well anyway.

Another favorite was seeing my little girl using the screwdriver to resecure all the light switch plates. I didn't even have to tell her what to do, just said, "Hey, could you put these back on?"

She went at it like a seasoned construction worker.

I also noticed that "What will I regret least later?" also changes what I say and mostly what I don't say.

One comment I am hearing a lot, "You have been so quiet lately..."

Ha.

Bonding when you shouldn't

Jee has fallen in love with skateboarding. He's always on a board or a scooter or a bike or anything with wheels.

A friend told me about the X-games in LA and I should check it out.

I googled the #1 more watched video and called Jee into the room, “Com'ere, com'ere, see this skateboarder at the X-games. This is what the X-games are like. You get to watch the skateboarders do their tricks...”

Jee snuggled into my lap in front of the computer to watch. I could tell that he was really bonding with the skateboarder Jake Brown.

“Look. You could be this good someday. These guys are really physically fit and they work really hard to do what they do. Now watch... OH WOW... Oh...”

You have to see the video to really understand it.

Let's just say I learned that I should always preview the clip before I show it to my children, especially if it is something important that they might relate to personally.

For the love of laundry

I have tried very hard to make the best of it. I really have. But, my main goal has always been to minimize the time spent doing laundry, to make sure the laundry is never the focal point of a single day, because if the adage is true, “Live today as if it is your last,” then heaven forbid my last day should be spent doing laundry.

My game plan is to attack the biggest drain first: The most time consuming step is sorting, folding, and putting everything away. I have tried many methods; none have helped me quickly get through the pile of laundry that is piled up to a height of three feet, two inches. (I measured. This is typical. Several times a week.)

This week I tried something new. I washed and dried it all then dumped load after load on the couch in the living room. As I was dumping the last load, I bellowed to the children, “Come git yer clothes!”

Only one of them came so I bellowed, “You owe me $1 for every item of clothing that is yours, left on this couch after 10 minutes!”

I heard the stampede of feet and I stepped back to see what would happen.

Within seconds, they were all there, digging into the pile of clothes. Shirts were flying, pants were grabbed or thrown, and socks hit the ceiling. In a hyper-quick three minute cat-fight-like scene, ALL the laundry was sorted and toted off to it's owners room. I was left with a small pile of my own clothes, my husband's clothes, and the kitchen towels.

It was so awesome that I tried it again yesterday to see if the experiment could be duplicated.

It worked!

Glory be.

Falling asleep on the job

How do you explain to your adorable little child why you fell asleep while you were playing together?

Here's the best I could muster:

"I blinked and forgot to unblink...

Sorry! I love you, you know."

Letting Go Experiment, Day 3, Aftershock and Summary

Note: This is my 200th post to this blog. Yikes. I think I will go celebrate by doing the dishes... or not.

Last day of the Letting Go Experiment:

Aftershock = Despite the *huge* mess from J&A's painting experience (they decided to paint the pedestal sink in the bathroom blue, acrylic paints) the day still was more fun because we had identified several things we wanted together ahead of time. The blue bathroom was a bit of a detour, a heckova detour, but the day still had the silky-sweet (hugs and kisses) quality to it that I wanted.

Experiment Summary = When the kids get to choose their MITs (Most Important Tasks) of the day, it makes them happier and more centered. I sure hope I can remember this. Writing... it down... in pen... on hand... tatooing... on forehead...

Letting Go Experiment, Day 3, LAST DAY

This is our last day just the three of us.

The big, stinky, hairy men will return home sometime in the night / morning.

Today's list of fun stuff included:

* Use gift card from grandma to get A's b-day present (finally)
* Get a new pair of Sunday pants for tall & lanky J
* Research hamster homes (the type that you can put together like Legos)
* Omega
* VT / Coquelet Cafe
* BART to YMCA
* Play at Cedar Rose park
* Scan scrapbook pages
* Play downstairs
* Go to beach
* Barnes & Noble bookstore

We started out fast and furious then got sidetracked on those boxes and boxes of delightful acrylic paints.

Soon, J & A are going to discover how much time they have spent painting and playing. Ha -- sounds like a Pop Quiz for what I wanted them to experience. Letting go. What do you do when you don't get everything you want?

Coming soon... the Aftershock.

Planets aligning

Sometimes the kids play in this certain way that makes the whole house / my whole world feel like the planets have aligned, sweet harmony, absolute beauty surrounds us.

Sounds a bit over the top? Well, dear friends, when the bar is set really, really low, it doesn't take much to get to bliss.

Today, we had our plans laid out (see next post) and there was a brief intermediate period between two tasks where I told A that should could paint her clay creations that she made yesterday. She made a little castle for the hamster and J made a low & large igloo for the hamster. I got out my four boxes of acrylic paints, slipped painting shirts over their heads and told them to go for it.

Since the sight of flying paint is hard for me to handle, I figured it would be a good time to catch up on emails and get 15, 20, maybe 30 minutes of work done. I was literally 12 feet from them, through a semi-open wall / doorway / hand-through thingy so I could hear them, but not freak out at the paint mess. Bliss. (See how low that bar is set? That's *bliss* for me.)

After 25 min, with one castle and one igloo painted lavishly, the painty, messy duo moved into the bathroom to supposedly wash their hands and their brushes. They are coming out every few minutes to ask questions like, "Can I have another bag?" and "Don't come in here quite yet, promise?"

They must have something wonderful brewing.

Since the bar is set relatively low, if I finally go into the bathroom an hour later and see the walls are painted, graffitied, or somehow they have "updated" the faucets, mirrors, or shower doors with acrylics... sigh... we'll work through it.

For now, I am content with hearing their happy voices working collaboratively on ... something.

Letting Go Experiment, Day 2, Aftershock

It worked! The kids were able to focus on their Most Important Tasks without whining about what else they could be doing. We got a lot done and had a blast doing it. There was only one situation where they had a tiff. We took the BART to the YMCA and while J & A were in Kindergym, one kid was a bit of a bully to A. J didn't do anything about it, so we worked on it tonight, role-playing and helping him get 100% on his sister's side. I have really wanted to work on that particular skill & this afternoon provided a great learning situation.

My favorite question of the day: "What does 'artistic' mean?" (That's harder to answer than it sounds!)

Aftershock = When you have a solid schedule it is far easier to be flexible, a bit of a paradox, but a beautiful one.

Letting Go Experiment, Day 2

Why on earth don't we do all our days like this??

Jee and Aee woke up happy and calm, yet energized for the day. That's *exactly* what I hope for every morning and I think it has something to do with a good night's sleep (which is heavily effected from the quality of life the day before).

So, today, the list contained:

* make playdough
* trampoline
* go get a scooter, Razor, for Aee
* do an R&D trip looking at different cat food & water bowls so J&A can make custom bowls at the pottery studio tomorrow
* go look at hamsters (to get a friend for Sammy)
* Omega Salvage (a funky cool place where we could get a chair or bookcase for JA to redo)
* go to the Animal Farm
* Cedar Rose park

We're about half way through the day now and a few minutes ago I caught myself singing "...raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens..."

These are a few of my favorite things.

Irony

My sister-in-law told me once, while cleaning up her house after her girls were asleep for the night, "It's far easier to keep up than to catch up." I loved that image -- just a bit of work (who are we kidding, just a lot of work) each night will stave off a really messy disaster that will take a whole weekend to clean up.

So, tonight I'm cleaning up after the day and listening to a meditation audiobook titled, "Giving Thanks". At one point in the exercise, the audiobook says,

"Know that in this moment, you have nothing else that needs to be done, nothing that needs your attention..."

I burst out laughing.

Highly unmeditative.

I had eight different things in my hands, going to five different rooms. I had my route planned out and was planning the task I would do the second my hands were free. Yes, I was in a mentally meditative state, but my body had a lot more to do, so...

"... nothing else that needs to be done..."

Irony.

Letting Go Experiment, Day 1, Aftershock

Technically, this should be called "Day 1 Evaluation" or something equally appropriate, but "Aftershock" is the more accurate word...

Jee and Aee were amazing. They both did their top three things (although Jee didn't actually get to finish his) and they did the "work" inbetween more willingly than ever before. They:

*took their baths without whining. I didn't even hear the typical question, "Do I actually have to get in the water???" (They're such cats.)

*ate unique foods at dinner and didn't complain

*did a *full* shopping trip with me without a single complaint. (This is the sound of me stunned...




...)

Usually, when we do shopping of any sort, my two little anti-consumers whine and moan, "Can we go home yet? This is So NOT Fun. This stuff is stupid. This is stupid."

The only whine that isn't too bad is when they said, "Ooooh noooo... my brain is rotting..." and they melt into the cart (or worse, the floor). That one is actually a bit funny.

The worst whine is "Are you done yet? Are you done yet? Are you done yet?" followed by, "But you said you only needed three things! This is more than three! I can count you know!" (followed by an inaudible, but still very obvious "It sure looks like you can't count" unsaid, unspoken, hanging in the air.) I have the nasty habit of saying before we go into the store, "It'll be quick; I only need three (or five or eleven) things." This particular habit is called a "habit of pre-emptive self-delusion" or at least that's what it would be called if I got to write the textbooks for Psych 101.

But, today there wasn't a single complaint. I think I may be in shock.

The survival tool I use most often in stores is to give them a +1 if they show good behavior and a -1 if they show bad behavior. It helps them grasp the continuity of the number line and it helps demarquate the terms of appropriate and inappropriate behavior. For example:

Jee: "M o m, this is so stooopid." (said in a whiny voice while pointing to any miscellaneous item in the cart)

Me: "Minus one."

Jee: (mouth shut, an important EQ skill)

On the flip side:

Jee: "Mom, can I see the list so I can help you find the next item?"

Me: "Sure, you'll get a plus one if we can find a new rug and towel together nicely"

At the end of the trip, they had a combined plus six which lead to two extra items (a hamster exercise ball and some window chalk for the car. That car can't get any more ugly. Drawing on the car's windows will be an improvement.)

The activities they chose to do were fun. They got plenty of exercise and plenty of "Ok, before we do ___ we have to do 15 min of clean up work. Okies?"

Met by, "Sure mom!"

My two favorite words of the day.

Aftershock = When people, even little ones, are in control of their lives, they are far more pleasant to be around.

Letting Go Experiment, Day 1

Aee and Jee's list of Things to Do:

1. Scan papers for memory files.
2. Play old computer games.
3. Program 1 game using the Sugar UI.
4. BART to the YMCA and play!
5. Go skateboarding.
6. Pick up Aee's plates from Brushstrokes
7. Make a water bowl and a food bowl for Cuddlebug.
8. Go to the park.
9. Go skateboard and scooter at school.

So far, it's going great! They are psyched that they have some direction and control over their day. Woot!

Switching Gears / An Experiment

Eee is taking Vee and Kee to a conference for most of this week. It will be a great guy's night, er, week out. They'll be working, but they *love* what they do, so it might as well be a vacation.

So, I have Jee and Aee and no schedule. Yet.

I am planning on doing an experiment with them. They are right at the cusp of learning how to deal with the Good, Better, Best concept and this would be a prime time to exercise it a bit. For example, when we make a list of "10 things I want to do today" they can rank the items by importance, but they are still sad when they don't do all 10. I think we'll practice the art of not doing it all.

Key concepts: Letting go / focusing on the joyful parts.

Exercise: Every morning write the top 10 things we want to do that day. Make sure we do three (or more if there's time). At the end of the day, during yoga (or maybe while making dinner) talk about how great those Top Three were and how it's OK to not do everything. Make a Memory Sheet at the end of each day showing the three things they did that were so awesome. Hum. That might work.

I don't fully understand why, but I feel like it might be an important skill for Aee and Jee to learn that it's ok to not have it all. From what I can see of my future plans, we are hoping to live lighter and lighter as the years go, so... they had better get used it while their brains are still mushy.

I want to share with them how wonderful it is to -- let go --.

The Positive "No"

I am completely enamoured with "The Positive 'No'".

When Vee and Kee were little, I took great pleasure in hearing them say a loud and resilient "No" (and stick to it) because I hoped it would translate into them being able to say a strong no to all the nasty stuff that would hit in their teen years.

I am listening to the Positive No on audiobook and it is so phenomenally validating.

This doesn't sound familiar

Growing up, I remember my friends (and me) always wishing for sweets. Candy was a treat, something good, wonderful, and desired.

So, at Vee and Kee's birthday party, I had a big spread of goodies, something that we usually only buy on Christmas and Halloween.

It was so funny -- the guys went for the pizza and some even dissed the treats.

At one point, the guys had just finished playing a high activity game and they came back into their house, looking for drinks. Most of them had water even though we had a good stock of pop (again, something we don't buy except on occasions like this). The teenagers were saying things like:

"Oh man, you're drinking pop after exercising. That's wicked. Your stomach's gonna cramp."

and

"At least have some water first. At least it isn't as bad as having the sugar hit your stomach straight."

and

"Hey, chill on the pop. You won't have enough energy to game all day if you get a sugar crash. Check it out, how many grams is in this can?"

And I'm standing off to the sidelines thinking I never heard teenagers in my generation aware of such things, let alone exerting peer pressure to monitor what they take into their bodies. The whole time I'm wondering whether or not kids like this take drugs (when parents aren't looking). They weren't completely aware that I was still standing there. Do kids take drugs who are also concerned about the number of sugar grams in a can of pop?

I could be wrong, but I doubt it.

Sneaky little boy

You know those sweet little moments that stick in your memory as if you had a video camera somewhere in your cranial mass? The memory is so sweet and precious that you hold on to it as long as you can.

One scene I really want to remember: At Vee and Kee's birthday party, they did a Capture the Flag game at a park by our home. Imagine a crowd of tall, gangly teenagers, several over six feet, all of them extremely powerful, smart young men. It was awesome seeing them play. Anyone who happened to walk by on the sidewalk stopped to watch for a few minutes. Even one friend who saw them out there emailed me about it, "You should have seen it!"

I showed up with Aee in tow about an hour after they started. Little 7 yo Jee had been with them the whole time. They were such great teenagers that they let Jee be a legitimate member of one of the teams and treated him pretty much like one of the guys. Jee ate it up.

But near the end, he apparently noticed he had an advantage. He was so much smaller than any of them that he was generally below their visual field. While they were shooting each other with Nerf guns, crossbows, and swinging their foam swords, Jee walked boldly over to the opponent's side, grabbed the flag (actually a large yellow broom) and started running back to home base.

Apparently, no one had actually scored yet, but Jee had picked up the jist of the game from hearing the guys talk. Jee had a doubtful look in his eye as he ran across the field and the broom was tremendously bulky compared to his little body, but he kept on running!

One of 6'+ guys with a heavy British accent yelled, "Hey, guys! The little bloke has the flag! Uh, guys... help! Guys... HELP!"

And Jee just kept on running except by the time he reached his home base, everyone was laughing so hard they couldn't shoot him.

Chalk one more point for the little guy.

Birthday Marathon

Vee and Kee's sweet 16 (and 17) birthday party went from 12 noon on Friday to 10 am on Saturday. Whew. I'm still tired.

It was my job to supply them with food: pizza, Caesar salads, sandwiches, chips, popcorn, cake, and of course, lots of goodies.

They had their party in the lower level of our home, usually a rental unit, but the previous tenants moved out and we haven't filled it yet with new tenants. The boys actually have their own independent house right now. I'm not completely sure how I feel about that...

For their party, Kee and I bought a big stack of new Nerf guns, cross bows, and other goodies. Their games got a bit too "big" for the house so they ran over to a park that's a block away and did a huge capture the flag game (more on that in a different post).

Back at the house they had a few rounds of games like RISK, Settlers of Catan, Mao, and Munchkin Fu. They also set up one room as "The Wii Room" and another as "The X-box Room".

I was trying to think back to what I did for my sweet 16, but I think I was in the Loire Valley at the time... I don't think I celebrated it at all. Mom and Dad, remind me if I'm remembering wrong! Eee can't remember what he did for his sweet 16 either.

Getting the Chores Done, method 1,784

We didn't have much time to do an entire house worth of housecleaning chores, so...

We invented yet another way to get it done. By my count, this is the 1,784th time I have reincarnated the mantra: "Let's do chores this way! How fun!" (hiding grimace)

Dividing the house up by room, we spent only five minutes on each room. We glanced over the sheet that shows each task for each room (wash window, vacuum, dust, etc) and we attacked each room like a swarm of hungry hyenas.

As soon as the alarm buzzed that five minutes was up, we sat down on the newly cleaned carpet in the very center of the newly cleaned room and played a game of Blink. It's a card game based on visual pattern / color / number matching. It's a lot like Speed where the first person to play all their cards wins; no turns, just speed.

A game of Blink takes about three minutes. Shuffling before the game takes one minute. Joking around after the game takes another minute. Five minutes total to recoup and get that happy-happy-fun-fun vibe going strong.

At the end, I was utterly baffled. There was only one room that had left-over tasks after five minutes (the kitchen, always the kitchen). How on earth did we clean it that fast? Why had we taken so long in the past to clean each room?

This experience was a testament to the fact that there is massive variability into the "appropriate" length of time needed for any given task.

Reminds me of a quote I really like, from a friend, "In the absence of clearly defined goals, we become oddly faithful to trivial tasks."

The five minute time frame gave us a clearly defined goal (even with a buzzer at the end, goody!) and the promise of a game gave the kids the laser beam focus.

The pinnacle was when Eee said, "I've never had so much fun doing chores."

Woot!

Combat boots and blood stains

You know how, at the end of the day, you assess how the day went: "Did I do everything I needed to? Did I stay on track? What should I do better tomorrow?" You look for signs that might prove that you really did OK today, that your work was worth something.

As I was looking for my signs of accomplishment today, I realized that they included:

* blood stains on my hoodie
* a goose-egg on my head
* bruises up and down my legs

Yeah, I guess I did really get in the game, get down and dirty with the day's activities.

And I'll be falling asleep in a bed that will probably contain:

* cracker crumbs
* at least a dozen Legos
* an animal or two
* a few leftover books that didn't make it back to their spot
* papers of various shapes and colors
* a pencil (yowch! but there's always a pencil in there somewhere since it is apparently the best place in the house to flop down and do homework)

I'll be too tired to clean it off and I'll comfort myself with the thought that, "I'm sure I'll miss this when the kids are grown and gone." (But odds are that I'll just be grateful for a clean bed.)

So, you may be wondering why blood stains on my hoodie are a sign of having lived a good day?

* Because the blood came from Jee's little cheek. He scraped it while skateboarding, doing a really tough trick and I'm proud of him for trying so hard to do something difficult. Late tonight, when we were caught in the cold marina air, I striped down to my t-shirt so Jee could keep warm underneath it. His cheek was bleeding and of course, it smeared on my favorite pink hoodie. Seeing him snuggle in, appreciating the warmth and breathing in his mother's smell... It's worth a blood stain or two (or three).

* Goose egg on my head? I'm not fully sure, but I think it was from playing goats with Aee. I love telling her what it was like to grow up on a farm and how much fun it was the play with the goats. They are sturdy, funny, opinionated animals and they love butting heads, even with people. If they can push you over, they win. If you're stronger, you win. Simple, but it can be painful. I love seeing Aee laugh her mischievous little laugh when she's the stronger goat. It's worth a goose egg or two.

* Bruises because the kids are always bumping, skateboarding, scootering, rollerblading a little too close to me, usually when we're cooking dinner. We don't have a no-shoes in the house rule; we don't even have a no-skateboard/rollerblade/scooter rule in the house. Thus, we get a little banged up. That's ok. Being near my kids while I'm working, hearing them bounce off each other in their playful puppy dogs way is worth a few bruises here and there.

I was thinking tonight that I shouldn't be in shorts and slippers, I should be in combat boots to protect my legs. I know a lady from church who used to wear combat boots. She has this super welcoming smile and is the picture of enthusiasm and motherly warmth. Just the thought of her approach to parenthood helped me look past the bruises tonight to the greater good -- I got to see my kiddos today. I wasn't stuck in an office, at least for today. I was beside them, even though it was HARD.

Combat boots and blood stains. So cool.

The best part is that there are so many other parents all around me who are also going to sleep tonight surrounded by Legos and maybe a crumb or two, parents who also have bruises on their shins.

Sometimes reality bites...

You know those days when your head throbs and there are so many tasks and people calling your name that you can't slow down long enough to get rid of the headache?

So, you just put your chin down, force the corners of your mouth in a smile and Do Your Best?

Oi.

On days like this (like today) if I manage to survive it with grace intact, I reward myself in the evening by gliding over to Despair and reviewing their snarky way of pointing out our stupidities.

My favorite today is their lithograph on Change:

When the winds of change blow hard enough,
Even the most trivial of things can turn into a deadly projectile.

Ha. There's nothing like a good, honest laugh to ease away the tension of the day...

The Writer's Son

I love watching people, seeing how they interact with others, seeing those little twitches, nods, and wiggles that indicate oh-so-many things... It's fascinating.

On Sunday, I had the delight of observing a man (sci fi writer) and his baby in SS. The man was eating a peach or something messy, completely absorbed in chewing, staring blindly straight ahead. His baby was standing in the bench, bobbing up and down the way babies do when they have just learned how to stand securely.

The teacher asked, "Who would like to give the prayer?"

Baby raises his hand. Baby's little eyebrows go up and he has an expectant look. Someone else gets the mic and baby's hand goes down.

A few minutes later, the teacher says, "I know this is a difficult concept... I doubt that any of us really understand it... Do any of you have any ideas as to what this passage could mean?"

Baby raises his hand. Baby's little eyebrows go up and he has an expectant look. Someone else gets the mic and the baby's hand goes down.

Father completely unaware. Munch. Munch.

A few minutes later, the father finishes his meal and re-engages with his baby, picking him up and latching back on as father and son.

It was such a funny little glimpse -- this little wobbly baby wishing he could give answers to the tough questions, wishing he could say the prayer. If only someone would give him the mic!

Speed of Generational Improvements

I am a firm believer that each generation can improve on the last if:

* they learn from experience, and
* they let themselves -->go for it<--.

So, tonight we were reminiscing over what classes Eee and I had in high school and college when Kee (15 yo) pokes his fluffy, messy head around the corner:

"Do you realize that in a few months I'm going to be taking classes that are harder than anything you ever took, even including your Bachelor's degrees?"

Sizzle.

I wonder if any studies have been done showing an increased rate of improvement from one generation to the next? Everything else is speeding up exponentially, why not our learning potential?

Programming -- Who'd have guessed?

Kee: "Hey mom, I'm going to teach Jee to program... OK?"

Me: "Uh, sure. Go for it." (oozing lack-of-confidence) Jee's only 7. How's he going to learn programming?

Kee and Jee spent *hours* programming, finished programming a game, and I overheard comments like:

Jee: "How do I speed up the response time?" (Did I say he's only 7 yo? About 45 lbs? Just this teeny, lanky little thing? How do you fit such a brain in such a teeny body?)

So, tonight both Jee and Aee had a friend's birthday party to attend. Jee didn't want to go, "But MOM, I want to STAY HOME AND PROGRAM."

He was angry.

He wanted to program.

And I was interrupting him with the silliness of a friend's birthday party.

Judging Jee's obsession with programming as a temporary anomaly, as a sign of his relatively strong tendency to stick with whatever task he is currently doing, I struck a compromise: "How about we go for 15 minutes. If, after 15 minutes, you want to come home to program, we'll leave the party and come straight home. Will that work for you?"

At first, his answer was no, but I insisted he had two choices:
1. go to party
2. go to bed

He finally said yes, but only because it gave him the option of more programming when we came home right after making an appearance.

Smart kid.

We went to the party and sure enough, at the 15 minute mark, he had a mouth full of cupcake and wanted to stay. Every 15 minutes I checked in with him and he was having fun with playing with friends.

We stayed for two hours, a respectable party time, but when we left, the consequences clicked into place, "MOM, I said I WANTED TO PROGRAM. Why didn't you hear me? I WANTED TO PROGRAM. I didn't want that party. I WANTED TO PROGRAM!"

Oh, heavens.

At least we were safely in the car on our way before it occurred to him that he had chosen to stay at the party. It took about ten minutes to get him home and into his father's care (his programmer father).

The whole time, I'm thinking: "What a horrible mom. I made my child go to a party... "

It reminds me of the time Vee and I were at Andronicos (a grocery store) buying chocolate for a particular party. Vee was reading one of those 500+ page books, reading while walking through the store. Vee was not listening to my requests for help with the grocery list.

At one point, I said too loudly:

"Vee put that book down and pick out some chocolate!!"

The little old ladies in the same aisle as us just stared and stared. They must have thought I was the worst mother ever...

"Put that book down... !"

Someday I'll look back at Jee's programming outbursts today and laugh, but for tonight I am still stunned by the intensity of his new love.

Wha...?

My younger two are attending a camp at a Jewish temple this week.

We are not Jewish, but the camps offered there are *amazing*! High quality projects, delightful instructors, and a beautiful, cheerful environment. Divine.

One of the projects was to make a kite on special, ultra-light, non-rippable kite fabric. They got to use special light-weight paint to do the design.

Aee's design looked... interesting. The drawing looked like a mix between people and flowers -- people with stems.

I asked her what it was.

Aee: "It's people on crosses. See, there are three people on crosses."

All I could think was, "Why would she be drawing crosses in a Jewish school? They surely didn't discuss the crucifixion..." Outloud, I asked, "Honey, what's this one guy here? He's not on a cross."

Aee: "Yeah, he's waiting his turn. As soon as one of these guys dies, he can get up there."

I think we might need to review a few lessons... But first I'm going to call her Primary teacher...

There is surely a GREAT story behind this one.

For the record

That skateboarding class I have been complaining about all week turned out to have a permanent, deep, deep impression on Jee's brain.

Here's the background: I took Jee to skatecamp last week and it consumed so much of my week just getting him there and back that I didn't have time to see any of what he had learned. (Drop-off and pick-up were at a campground, not at the skate bowl.)

On Sunday afternoon, we met with a group of friends (two groups, unrelated, but both invited) at a nearby school playground and my big deal was, "I haven't seen Jee skateboard... Now I'll get to see what he learned at camp."

I was floored. He had speed, grace, and a new comfort level that didn't look much like a kid who had been on a board for only 14 days. He could do these funky swivel turns, little jumps, flips, and as he was cruising across the playground (about 50' wide, solid cement with a decent decline) he got up enough speed to do a few other tricks that I don't know the names of.

As we were leaving, I said to him, "Wow, Jake, that was amazing. I didn't know you could do all those tricks."

He looked at me with that look that says he's trying to be compassionate, but he knows I'm an idiot. In a calm, measured voice, he said: "What tricks? I didn't do any tricks. This isn't even a skate bowl. If you want to see tricks, take me to the skate bowl."

Wha..? Now I'm almost scared to take him to the skatebowl. What qualifies as a "trick" in his mind? A double-back-flip-with-a-twist? (Yes, my vocab in this area is weak.)

His instructors said they had never seen a kid pick it up so fast. Maybe I see what they mean?

The Subtext

As we were leaving Costco today, the cart was so heavy that it was hard to steer. (It didn't help that there were two wiggly kids dangling off the sides.) When we got to the car, we did the typical no-kids-in-the-car-until-we-get-this-unpacked rule. When we do this, I'm the cheerleader:

"Come on, you're doing great! Jee, look at your strong arms! Way to go... Aee what a catch!"

There was a businessman pulling his car carefully into the spot beside me and he witnessed a good chunk of our end-of-Costco experience. He smiled a wide, Southern smile and said, "Looks like you're getting them to help out!"

I smiled back and nodded, "Yep!"

As he walked away, I heard --- the subtext ---, those words that nearly everybody says under their breath or in their minds that is usually more honest, true, and to-the-point than their admitted first comment.

The subtext is the inside of the onion.

He said, "Good luck with that... Kids never help out."

I wish I hadn't heard him.

Curses to acute hearing.

Actually, it was good that I heard him. It reminded me to be more aware of my own subtext.

In this particular guy's case, his subtext was toxic. "Kids never help out." What the bleep?! Poor guy. Poorer kids related to that guy.

So, my wish is this: Let my subtext be honest, upbeat, and positive. Right now, my words are... well, you can see my words, but my subtext is... well, that's private. That's why it's unspoken, but awareness on a personal level is great.

The Magic Word

My daughter has discovered the one magic word that goes straight to my heart. I can not say "No" to her when she uses this word in a request.

Is it, "Please"?

No.

Is it, "Pretty please darling Queen Mother?"

Heavens, no.

It is a phrase that took me by surprise the first time she used it. She was asking me to come read her a story. I was busy (oh, how I hate this story!) and told her I would be there in a minute.

She lowered her voice, calmed her little body, and said with the utmost sincerity, "I ask you to come now... Namaste." She held her little hands together perfectly as if in prayer. She did the little bow. If you haven't seen it, the wiki describes it like this:

"When spoken to another person, it is commonly accompanied by a slight bow made with hands pressed together, palms touching and fingers pointed upwards, in front of the chest."

Her eyes softened; her little head bowed; and she pronounced the words that went like a dagger straight into the soft spot between my exterior dragon scales.

Why would "Namaste" effect me like this? Because it is one of those rare, purely powerful words. When you do yoga, a really good session of yoga in particular, and get to the "Namaste" part, it feels amazing. Amazing I tell you! It is a poignant word / image / sensation.

Literally, "Namaste" means, "The Divinity within me perceives and adores the Divinity within you." When your little daughter, a gift from above, so sincerely says that...

There is no other answer besides, "Yes."

Overheard at the dentist's office

Jee was at the dentist early one morning, getting a spacer put in. It's a great pediatric dentist and the hygienist was talking with him gently, helping him feel appreciated as a little human being rather than just a little human mouth. She asked if he was in school and he replied, “No, I'm on vacation. It's a school holiday.”

The hygienist kept asking questions about what he was doing during vacation and if he was doing anything particularly fun today. He said (and this totally made me laugh), “Today is my sister's birthday! But she's still 5 because she was born at 2:07 in the afternoon so she'll still be 5 until then. Then, at 2:07 she'll automatically be 6. I wonder how many seconds it was... I mean it probably wasn't 2:07 and 0 seconds. There were probably more seconds. I don't know how many seconds it was when she was actually born...” He looks over at me and I know we'll have a long talk in the car on the way home. How do you explain to a child the messiness and imprecision of birth?

I suspect the discussion will involve talk of doctor's declaration of both birth and death being a “moment of judgment” rather than the precise, easily identifiable moment. Jee's little eyes will widen with wonder first, understanding second. I love it when his eyes do that. It's like he's acquiring yet another truth in his repertoire.

Bad at math

I have always enjoyed math games, but I appear to have failed at the latest one.

What happens when you take an already-full 24 hour day and add an extra 4 hours of work into it?

Squeeeeeze.

It turns out that Jee's skateboarding camp is a full hour drive each way. I didn't bother to calculate ahead of time, before signing him up how that drive would impact the day.

It's worth it, oh so worth it, but wow, four hours? That's a beefy drive full of great audibooks ("Eat that Frog" and "Social Intelligence" and NPR shows).

It wasn't until this morning that I realized, "Doh! If I would have thought this out ahead of time, I would have realized that I can't do it."

Sometimes it helps to not think things through. Jee is having a great camping experience. Period.

Sometimes I forget...

...that we see the world through the lens of the Scientific Process.

Aee doesn't play; she experiments.

I don't cook; I mix substances for a desired outcome.

Jee doesn't read; he researches.

Kee doesn't "push the limits" like a teenager; he tests hypotheses and formulates results.

Vee doesn't discuss things; he analyses the wording and flow of thought, checking for consistency then gives results. Comments such as "Mom, that was an inconsistent flow of thought," is something I hear, then we straighten it out together. Sweet.

I bought a big jar of vinegar today. I'll give you three guesses what it will be used for...

Summer camps

Camps for the kids are costing us an arm, leg, and kidney, but the kids are blossoming.

Jee started his skateboarding camp today. It's an hour plus drive to the skate park, way out in the woods east of here, but the way his face lit up when he saw a whole crowd of skateboarding buddies... there's nothing else like it. He's so sparky.

And of course, he left his lunch in the car. We're driving home, thinking, "Whew, glad it's only a 2 hour drive to drop him off. And another 2 hr drive to pick him up. I don't think we could handle a much longer drive... Wait... Did he get his lunch?"

Doh!

So what, the drive was a little longer today, but the silver lining was that we needed to drive back to the skate bowl and got to see little Jee's first attempts at more complex skateboarding tasks. Kee and I just watched from a distance for a while before dropping off Jee's lunch. Jee is such a natural. He loosens up, studies the moves of the best skaters then mimics their moves. Sigh. It is really quite wonderful to see someone learning a new skill easily.

Aee started her art class today, starting with Impressionism. She actually studied up ahead of time, looking at sample art work so she'd be ready if the teacher asked questions. What was it Aee said... ? "I need some context. I don't know Impressionism yet." Then she dissected the word, asking if Impressionism had something to do with impressions. Sometimes I forget that she's still a little squirt who doesn't know how to tie her shoes yet.

Vee and Kee worked today, on daytime black-out so they can earn college funds w/o being distracted.

The Beach

We are just now finishing up an amazing long weekend at the beach with my mom and dad. They rented a house that is right on the water and tonight we moved all the bed mattresses into the sun room so we got to watch the sun set as we snuggled into our various bedding spots. We have a bazillion pillows (the minivan was full of them as we drove down plus the house had plenty).

The sun room is a 20' long room with two beds in it already (and now three mattresses on the floor). None of us snore, so we can hear the ocean tide.

We spent our days flying kites, playing in the sand, and running along the beach. We ate many delightfully healthy meals cooked by my mother. We played games, told stories, and built a few electronics kits (a flashing heart and a voice changer). The kids really enjoyed seeing their Grandma & Grandpa.

What could possibly be better?

How much do you really need?

I was checking out of a hotel the other day and the lady in line ahead of me was asking the desk-man, "Don't you have a working computer anywhere in the building? I just need to check a few things online..."

Apparently, the hotel's internet connection was fine, but their one and only computer for guests was blue screened and no one knew how to fix it (and I didn't want to touch it).

I had spoken with this lady earlier, had a friendly little conversation with her, so I piped up, "Well, I have three laptops in my backpack if you want to use one..."

Her eyes got wide and I could hear her thinking, "Why do you have *three*?"

Just then I realized I was late to my next appointment and I probably shouldn't have offered. Thankfully, she said she needed to shop for plane tickets and would take a while, so... I wished her luck as the clerk handed her directions to the top three closest places with connectivity.

The funny part -- as I was leaving I was thinking, "Well, actually I have four laptops on my back... I forgot about the small one...."

A more reasonable person would wonder why I needed four at once, all to myself, but if you have ever used, fully used, several at once and felt that rush of complexity, then you'll probably have that same warm appreciation for it.

Simplicity; complexity: they each have a time and a place. Sometimes it's nice to just have the clothes on your back and a weekend camping in the woods; sometimes it's nice to fully immerse yourself in a complex task. It's all good.

Psyched

I am having so much fun working out at the Y. I think I have been underestimating "the act of moving in sync with others".

Raising kids & building a family are tough work. I don't get that sense of "flow" or "sync" too often. It happens and when it does, it feels GREAT...

...GREAT I tell you. I crave feeling that sense of sync with others more often.

I had forgotten that a workout at the Y is a similar experience.

Deep sigh. Blissful sigh.

A Lesson in Humility

Every now & then we all need to be reminded how incompetent we are, right? It keeps us humble, right?

Earlier this week, I started working out at the YMCA again. They have a thick schedule packed with all types of classes. I did a 60 min Cycling one (yowch!), then an intense 60 min Water workout (harder than it sounds, but *fun*) then tonight I tried the 90 min Funk & Hip Hop Dance class. How humbling!

I had forgotten how to move my body like that. The teacher was amazing -- welcoming and motivating. My only saving grace is that I'm a good mimic of body movement (and vocal inflection). There were several great dancers ahead of me who had good rhythm, but still...

I have a renewed respect for those with a high level of body awareness.

Shaping the brain; training neural pathways

I like to post quotes around the house. The kids (and I!) see the quotes and the content seeps in subconsciously, re-routing thoughts, training certain desired neural pathways, and eventually ending up as behavior. It goes like this:

1. Notice a concept or behavior that needs work.
2. Find a pithy quote that sums up the desired change.
3. Watch to see how long it takes for the change to be noticeable on a behavioral, ie permanent level.

I have been doing this since 1984 (started as a kid), but I have never kept track of the quotes. It sure would be fun to see what has shaped my path.

I'll try to track the current posts here:

* Quitting is not an option; Failure is not an option.

* Every single interaction between two human beings is an act of leadership.

* The more constraints one imposes, the more one frees one’s self. And the arbitrariness of the constraint serves only to obtain precision of execution.

* The Roman Rule: The one who says it cannot be done should never interupt teh one who is doing it.

* I care not so much what I am to others as what I am to myself. I will be rich by myself, and not by borrowing. --Michael de Montaigne

* What we do upon some great occasion will probably depend on what we already are; and what we are will be the result of previous years of self-discipline. -- H. P. Liddon

* The strong man is the one who is able to intercept at will the communication between the senses and the mind. --Napoleon Bonaparte

* We do hard things.

...more to come. I need to wander around the house and see what else I have posted at the moment.

Loving language

From our kids we hear, in order of magnitude: English, Latin, French, Mandarin Chinese, Spanish, Hebrew, and German. It is truly delightful.

Last night, Vee and I went on a great run. (I really need to train harder if I'm ever going to be able to keep up with him.) As always, we pushed it at the end. Vee sprinted off into the distance. I sprinted, but in comparison to Vee, it look like a slow putt-putt (oh, comparisons, comparisons).

Completely out of breath, we stretched out a bit on the front steps. He said something like "Mi Mater, tu (something like Dear Mother, are you alright or will you die of lack of breath?)" All in fluent Latin without a pause of course. I understood him.

I replied with, "Ca va mon cher fils. Je te remerci pour avoir fait le bon tour. Tu cours comme un guepard. C'est merveleux." He understood me.

It took a moment's pause to realize that we're doing this all the time now. Vee will say, "Ita" and I know he's saying, "Yes", or more technically, "It is so", since those wacky Romans had no word for "Yes". (No, I'm not kidding.) I think, although I am not certain, that he is speaking Latin more than English on most days.

So, they say that communicating with teens is difficult... Um... I don't know how to answer that... Yes? No? It depends on what language you're speaking?

I hope they always love language as much as they do now. They play with words instead of toys. Cool, huh?

My favorite birthday

I love birthdays... Here's how I ended up celebrating mine.

Starting on Friday, I took off for a writing weekend, going to a gorgeous hotel (Marriott) in a random location in No Cal. It was so deeply satisfying to hammer out the bulk of the book. My Mom & Dad sent birthday get-whatever-you-like money & it covered the entire weekend. Woot! Thanks Mom & Dad!

Eee, Aee, and Jee came to visit me at the hotel for a great swim session. I worked out every morning & evening in the hotel's gym. The hot tub relaxed sore muscles from sitting at the keyboard too long.

On the way home from the hotel, I got a bit more writing time at our downtown public library, something I rarely enjoy alone.

Thanks to Audible, I got a fantastic book: "Look Me in the Eye" which I enjoyed on my iPod all weekend while walking around town, working out, and every non-typing moment.

The day of my B-day, I woke up early (see previous post) so that I could get my teens to school on time for their finals which they were very well prepared for (a present in & of itself).

Eee took the day off work -- HUGE present, by far the best one.

We looked for storefronts most of the day, found three we liked, eliminated one.

I got footrubs, backrubs, neckrubs, all sorts of luxurious pampering throughout the weekend.

I had my favorite type of sushi for lunch -- California roll, along with fresh peaches, oranges, and raspberries (raspberries!) from my favorite Farmer's Market.

I got to take my kids & their friends to their karate class. I love karate time.

Eee baked cupcakes himself last night. How sweet! He was up until two or three I think. What dedication.

I got calls from friends & family. My favorite was Eee's parents in St. Maarten (is that the island they're on?) singing "Happy Birthday" in English & French "Bonne Anniversaire".

Eee made a scrumptious dinner, Tuna Patty Melts, and I got to open my b-day presents: a bunch of books, some kitchen stuff, an air diffuser, and a hat that Kee knit for me himself (so cool!!). I'm the luckiest mom alive.

After present opening, I zoomed off to the YMCA and got in a ridiculously tough workout, a 60 min class with a masochistic teacher. It's gonna hurt tomorrow.

The minute the class was over, I ran back to the car for a night out with girlfriends (but showered first so I wouldn't stink!)

Next, I ran home to make sure the wee ones were asleep. They weren't, so I snuggled with one until the deep sleepy breath started, then snuggled with the other.

THEN, I zoomed over to a friend's house and borrowed what she had just said was her favorite movie. I saw the first 15 min of it then it got too scary.

Little Miss Woosey is now blogging about her wonderful birthday! I have never been so psyched about the upcoming year. This is guaranteed to be the best year yet.

Crazy sleepy fish

I wish I had a videotape of this...

To wake up in the mornings, I set my alarm on my watch which is --always-- attached to my wrist. This morning the alarm went off and I startled to the left. My hand flopped over to the other side of my body. Brrring. It goes off again and I startle to the right. Back and forth, flopping like a sleeping fish, not making the connection between the noise and my own wrist.

After a bit of "Wha...?" zzz "Wha...?" flopping, I *finally* gained enough consciousness to realize what an idiot I was, not realizing that the noise was coming from my own wrist. Ha!

I love mornings. Really. I do.

Payback time! Teenagers

I got a minute to talk with a friend today and the comment was floated, "Oh, the teenage years are going to be so tough..."

I pushed back, "Nuh uh! The teenage years are the best... payback time."

Here's the rest of what I said. Imagine me getting really passionate and preachy.

Teenage years are the best part of raising kids -- it is when you see all your hard work pay off. They know how to cook, clean, and (gasp!) take care of themselves and (double gasp!) even take care of others.

My friend looked a bit quizzical at this, so I gave a bit of anecdotal evidence:

* My oldest says several times a day, every day, "Can I help?" The three coolest words I have ever heard besides "I love you".

* My 2nd oldest makes Belgian waffles on Sat & Sun mornings. I wake up to the smell of fresh baked, ultra high-quality waffles with fresh fruit and homemade whip cream... Get this: he even grinds fresh powdered sugar to go in the homemade whip cream. No pre-ground powdered sugar for us. Nuh uh. Only the best.

* My oldest will do the worst chores, simply because he knows that it would help others and that's more important than his disgust over ___ (fill in the blank with the nastiest chore you can think of).

* My 2nd oldest keeps us all on time & on schedule. He has this way of nudging us gently and kindly towards the door when we're having time getting to ___ (fill in the activity du jour) in time.

At this point I could see she was satisfied that what I qualified as "payback" was really, truly payback for all the diapers, laundry, and 1,003 other chores that make up childhood / parenthood.

She is a good mother, loves her children deeply, adores them really and is a fantastic role model for her girls. Trying to work through this "payback" concept she asked, "But all my friends with teenagers say it's so tough, that teenagers really difficult and that they can't wait until the kids are grown and gone."

My blood boiled at that.

Boiled, I tell you.

And I had the perfect comment. You know how sometimes you have the perfect comment? The world feels balanced in those moments, like the final puzzle piece has just been handed to you.

In this situation, the mother is a fantastic, attentive, compassionate mother focused on what was best for her kids, but she had heard the standard horror stories about teenagers. When she said, "...they're really difficult..." I could see a sadness in her eyes at the impending trauma.

So, the perfect comment was (drumroll please):

"Well, you get what you expect."

It was so awesome! Her eyes lit up and she bent down to her eldest and said, "Hey, so when you're a teenager, you're going to be good and kind and help out around the house and make Belgian waffles for us all on Saturday mornings?"

It was so awesome! Her little daughter looked up at her with a little, "Of course!"

So, I went home and told Vee and Kee, "Hey, you shifted the future path of an entire family today! How about that!"

My favorite desserts

Granola

Blueberry museli

Raisin bran

Grapenuts with brown sugar

A bowl of strawberries and bananas mixed together and let sit for a minute

An apple and cheese

A peanut butter sandwich with banana slices and nuts

An oatmeal raisin cookie

A waffle with applesauce in the holes and whipped cream on top

Jello, but just to play with, not to eat

A cup of herbal tea with extra creamer

Raspberries, plain. Blackberries, plain. Any berries, plain.

A peach that drips down my chin.

My all time favorite: Odwalla Serious Focus blueberry plus other goodies drink.

Divine!

I am so hungry right now...

Random Location

I am spending the weekend writing another book, holed up in a hotel in a random location in No Cal. All I remember is that it is a Marriott somewhere east of home. I followed the directions then put it out of my mind. The room is nice and the work is going quickly, but one problem...

What happened to the American diet?

There are all sorts of restaurants near the hotel: Panda Express, Brick Oven, Jamba Juice, an Asian place, a Greek place, Chipotle, a Fatburger, but NONE of them have anything resembling a healthy meal. Even the Boston Market across the street has food items that barely resemble their original form.

Where are the salads, zucchini, green beans, red peppers (ok, there are red peppers at a lot of these places), the *vegetables* that are supposed to make up the core of our food intake?

What I would give for a good, crispy carrot right now. Sigh. In the static RAM of my childhood memories, I recall walking across the lawn to the garden, through the rows to the carrots, yanking up a few, washing them off under the spigot and...

*crunch*

They tasted so good! What I would give for a real carrot right now.

How am I supposed to think clearly, let alone write well, on processed food? =/

Geeks on Skateboards

A dear friend gave me her long board (looks almost like a surfboard with wheels) and we have been skateboarding to & from school.

I feel so dang cool when I carry that board around town.

I don't look so cool when I actually try to ride it.

I actually look like a geek with markedly bad balance.

But little Jee sure looks cool. A friend of the family had his skateboard with him the other day and he showed Jee the basic steps to getting comfortable on a board. Jee's little face lit up and I could see him itching to do more. With that little spark of initial skateboard contact (on a *real* board), he hasn't stopped talking about it. Last weekend, we got Jee his own board, a *real* board, and now he is signed up for a summer skateboarding class so he can learn tricks and make some boarding buddies.

On Sunday we walked & boarded to church with Jee on his board (occasionally snitched by Vee and Kee) and Aee + a big person on the long board. Aee sits up front while someone else sits or stands behind. I'll email you pics if you like, just ping me through email. Both Vee and Kee got a bit of time on both boards and it helped them loosen up their legs. They both look natural on a board (except for the pasty white skin, the geekish appeal, and the markedly bad balance inherited from yours truly). Perfectly natural. Oh yeah.

It was so funny. I couldn't get the phrase "Geeks on boards" out of my mind through the entire walk (and it's a long walk).

What do you want for *your* birthday?

My birthday is coming up and we're celebrating it this weekend to avoid bumping into Father's Day and the School's Out craziness later this month.

So, this is a fairly important birthday. As is our family tradition, we will be celebrating all weekend. This one is unique because I am just starting to realize that I don't have much of my 30s left. I want to make this birthday a good one, a memorable one.

I have tossed around all sorts of fun ideas, but at my core, that innermost part of me that says, "I want..." (or in this case, "I need...") there is something unavoidable that is overshadowing all the other "fun" stuff.

I need a clean house.

Yes, yes, I know I posted our homecleaning habits the other day, but I mean *deep clean*, DEEP, the kind of clean where you end up buried in your box of Memorabilia from Childhood and come up a few hours later, 10 lbs lighter and full of rememberances that are so precious.

So, happy birthday to me! I get to do a spring cleaning this weekend!

Update -- I changed my mind. I realized that a clean house would only be a momentary high. I would forget about it in a few weeks, or at the current Rate of Destruction, I would forget about it by Monday when the house returned to it's normal state.

So, I chose to do something memorable that puts a stake in the ground -- spend the weekend finishing up a book I have been on contract for for many years. I won't finish it completely, but I will get it to that point where I can set it on autopilot (where my brain thinks about it during the day and I download the day's work in a short 15-20 minute burst at night).

Back to pounding out this particularly memorable weekend.

Love-a-lee Chores

We hit upon a method that works for our kids -- it teaches time management, estimation, and best of all, teamwork over competition.

We work as a team, starting with one room, usually the front room. On a legal pad, I make a short list of what needs to be done:

Pick stuff up off floor
Vacuum floor
Shake out rugs
Clean windows
Dust
Clean couch
Org book shelves

Then I ask the kids, "How long do you think this will take if we all work together?" They each chime in with their time estimate:

E 10 min
C 7 min
V 15 min
K 12 min
J 9 min
A 14 min

Then we set the timer and *go for it*! Their ability to estimate time and task length has really improved. I think it may help them with project management later. If nothing else, they are learning to deal with what happens when estimates are off, w-a-y off. (For example, we always underestimate how long the office will take -- all those little corners where stuff can hide.)

There are two "awards": 1. best estimate, 2. best dedication to the task. Each award is $1 and they work pretty hard for that dollar.

Then we move on to the next room and start the process over again, improving our skills incrementally.

There is definitely an element of competition, but it is appropriately placed -- it fuels them to work harder and faster. The overall goal is the success of the team. They grab whatever cleaning task that needs to be done and when they finish that, they help someone else. Everyone needs to help everyone else. That's the best part.

So, for now, I have a method that works. Seems like this is Chore Method #143, but it is working with this particular group of kids at this particular developmental phase.

And I have a relatively clean house. It is so divinely satisfying to be able to say that at least once a week.

Lack of sweats

When I was a younger, I wished that I could get out of my sweats more often. I dreamed of dressing up every day instead of pattering around in sweat pants day after day after casual day.

Over the years, my closet has changed.

Drastically.

Thanks to an unusually hectic morning, I had my "morning" shower mid-day. This prompted an atypical desire for a comfy pair of sweats to tide me over until a meeting later. I looked in my closet (which is literally two feet wide) and realized... gasp! I don't own any sweats.

I actually don't own a single pair of sweats.

Hallelujah!

Care for my own

We have been debated (heartily) over whether or not to hire a housekeeper. We would dearly love to, but we're at the tipping point between:

* whether it's good for the kids to learn basic household upkeep tasks (and there's a lot to learn & learning it well requires years of repetition)

* whether it's distracting us from more important tasks.

The current line of thought is this: A housekeeper is approx $500/mo. A ticket for a cruise is about $1,000. Two months of doing our own housework buys one ticket. A year's worth of doing our own housework buys us six tickets, enough for the whole family. It is a highly motivated thought for the kids (and for me!) so for now we're doing our own chores.

I'll blog about the How later on today... Stay tuned.

Favorite Phrase

My favorite phrase in the world:

"Can I help?"

The Legacy Walk

There is one particularly meaningful tree-lined street in Berkeley where the trees reach out high above your head. The foliage is lush and the stately houses represent the archetypical home-as-nest. In particular, the trees give the road an other-worldly feel and time stops for me every time I am on this street.

I first walked this street with a friend from my church -- she is a few decades older than me but she is faster, wiser, and far more knowledgeable. Walking with her is like walking with a tour guide who would make you milk and cookies afterwards. I adore her.

The first time I walked with her, she showed me streets I had never seen before. One particular street has now become our own personal "Legacy Road". While my friend didn't suggest the following activity, her views influenced it.

Here's how the Legacy Road works (with the background thrown in for flavor): A few months ago, we were having a fuzzy, directionless Sunday, so I asked the rest of the family to watch themselves (please) because "I need to show Kee his legacy." This confused them long enough to let me slip out the door with Kee in tow. Kee is 15 yo, old enough and wise enough to sense that his Mama had something bizarre up her sleeve. I had "that look" in my eye.

We went to Legacy Road (Mariposa, one block E of Shattuck, near the top of Solano) and positioned ourselves at the southwest corner of the street. (It has to start on that particular spot). I turned Kee to face "up" the road, looking forward at the massive expanse of foliage, surrounded by homes of prestige and elegance. His eyes widened and I said:

"This is your life, my son. The road symbolizes the span of your lifetime. You start here, with this first step, and at the end of the road, you die. But first, tell me about your childhood... What do you remember?"

He started with his first memories, then elementary, middle, high school. As a concrete metaphor, we noted the trees, their age and beauty, how they had been pruned (just as he had in his life) and noted that every tree, even though it had been given identical care as its neighbor, had grown differently. Choice. It's all about choice. He reflected on his many choices and naturally began to evaluate his past.

When we got to the north end of Mariposa, he gave me a nervous look, "What did you say about dying at the end of the road?"

I laughed. Whoops. "This is a metaphor honey. Let's cross the street. You die at the end, when we have made a full circle. Up one side of the street and down the other. Past (gesturing to the direction we had come) and future (gesturing to the other side of the street). You just walked your past. Now you're crossing through the present moment to your future."

As we crossed the street, he had a wild little smile on his face. He stood at the upper end of the tree-lined street with his jaw slightly dropped, realizing that his entire life was ahead of him, in extreme, concrete terms, it was HIS to choose. We began talking about what he might want at 16, 20, 25, 30... Where he wanted to travel; what he wanted in an eternal mate; what type of house he wanted to own; what type of job... all the visions and dreams were beginning to bud. He was embracing the expansive richness of his future. The trees were so perfectly symbolic -- their thick trunks and sturdy branches.

He thought most carefully about the career choices. His focus was on: "How can I contribute most meaningfully?" and "What can I do that would generate the most lasting personal joy?"

I didn't give any answers -- just kept him on topic.

The questions shifted to, "What about when you're 35, 40, 45, 50...?" inconceivable ages for teenagers. His eyes showed a glimmer of understanding that life is much, much longer than he originally thought. It was like unrolling a ball of yarn. Each step he took, took him closer to "being EOL" (end of life, a term used in the computer hardware industry) There was an end. Gasp.

His steps slowed. The steps he had walked so quickly (childhood, early adulthood) now seemed more precious, more important and I could tell he wished that he would have gone just a little slower.

And then we got to "the spot". On the ground in front of one particularly beautiful home near the end of the east side of the street is painted on the sidewalk: "The Legacy". Someone must have painted it there a long time ago. Who knows why? I stopped; he froze.

I asked, "What will be your legacy? What will you leave behind?"

His hair shifted as he looked back up the road, the realization dawning that he had only a limited amount of time to build a life. His smile was golden.

I haven't walked Legacy Road for myself yet, but I took my eldest to walk it after his PatB and I took my husband to walk it today. It is such an awe-inspiring experience.

My favorite part is seeing that little flicker of expression that says, "Walk slower."

Walk slower...

Bike to Work

Yesterday was Bike to Work day in the Bay (in the US? world? I have no idea). Eee was able to get his bike out and hooked up to the tandem so Aee could ride behind him with her wild hair trailing and her little voice yelling, "Faster, Daddy! Faster!". Jee was on his own bike, fully capable of a full day's ride, looking all four ways at each intersection, so competent.

Mee? My bike is locked to the trampoline and I can't find the key.

So, since I'm not a sissy, I ran alongside the bikes, panting like a dog, trying to keep up. The entire time I'm wondering if it's worse to be a sissy or an out-of-breath, stinky dog?

We crossed paths with a guy from church, an exceptionally physically fit guy who wasn't even breaking a sweat even though it was 98 degrees already (actually, it only felt like 98). He smiled and was polite.

But wow, my legs were aching. Last night I went on a long run with Sum 41, Chuck album blasting on my iPod which makes me run far faster than my body would naturally allow. When I pulled into the homestretch, Vee came out of the house and bellowed, "Mom, let's go for a run!" He had just gotten home and needed to stretch his legs.

Of course, I eeked out a, "Sure!"

What an idiot. I am so sore.

So, I did Round 2, running the loop, well, half the loop since Vee noticed my face was an odd combination of purple and white. But we still did the homestretch sprint and it felt great.

Then the next morning I got a good run in... and tonight I'll surely go for one again since I'll already be so sweaty from this heat wave that I won't care if I get even slimier.

So why don't I look like a runner yet??

One of life's mysteries, I guess. A cruel one, though.

The Bliss of Good Grades

There is something so sweet about doing well on a test. Some of Vee's test scores came back from one of many, many tests he has taken lately and he got 100% accuracy in several in sub-subjects. (Try saying "sub-subjects" 10x fast.)

My favorite score? 100% in Literary Response & Analysis.

For those of you who know us and know where we have been and the road we have travelled, you will fully appreciate the depth of my gratitude in that particular score.

And yes, I understand that grades don't always measure ability accurately, but I know that this guy can dig deep into literature and find the treasures. I know because I talk to him about the books he reads and I see how he responds to text. I'm proud of his ability. It is highly rewarding to see my beliefs confirmed.

Vocab Dev

Yesterday afternoon, Jee was in the process of trying to rehang his calendar on the wall and I suppose he needed a nail, but he asked...

"Mom, can you get me a lock poker?"

"What?"

"A lock poker."

(befuddled look on my face)

"A lock poker! A thing that you poke in the door lock to unlock it. You know!"

Oh... why didn't he ask for "a nail"? Note for those who don't live in our home: we use regular hammer-it-into-the-wall nails to open doors. No fancy pantsy lock picks for us.

What I thought odd was that he defined that particular object by its most common use in his view of the world. Nails were designed first and foremost to pick locks.

He also understood the difference between "pick" and "poke". You don't really pick at the lock; that's a task better fitted for the fingers. You poke at the lock mechanism clumsily with the sharp end of the nail. Lock poker.

Funny how vocabulary develops.

Scary. Bagels.

We biked to the bagel bakery early this morning to get some of the best bagels on the west coast.

Yum.

Switch gears. You know when you're on a bike and you pedal as hard as you can, so fast that it feels like your feet will fly off if you pedal any faster? Well, imagine pedalling that fast on a stretch of open road and (drumroll please) my son is running alongside me.

The scary part is that his sprint is the same mph as my pedal-as-fast-as-I-can. How awesome! A little scary too. Either I'm a slug or he's a cheetah. Or somewhere inbetween.

How to get your kids to do stuff

I just found such a great way to get the kids to do things that they need to do, but don't necessarily want to do:

"This is what SMART people do..."

Oh boy, they love it. They're eating broccoli, taking care of their chores, cleaning out the car, all because smart people eat broccoli for the B vitamins; do their chores for the fringe benefits of having a clean home; clean out the car, well, because, that's what smart people do! Who knew they respected intelligence so much?

Maybe they respect it because it's in such short supply?

Hum...

Muddling through

One of my friends has the coolest sig line:

"Walking through the water,
just like everyone else,
trying to get across."

Three minutes

I love writing schedules; I love complex feats of timing; I love hearing the clock in the background with that gentle "chick" that says when each second has passed.

I love time.

I wish it loved me back.

The other day I realized, a bit late, that I had only three minutes to get to my daughter's school to pick her up. Of course, I could fly out the door and probably get there on time, but I looked at my sorry self and realized that I needed a shower. Hum. Three minutes. Just how quickly could I shower? And get to the school not dripping, fully clothed, and more presentable than I currently was?

I decided to give it a try. I showered, dressed, dried my hair (mostly), made myself presentable and got there on time. What a rush of self-satisfaction.

Unfortunately, all this did was make me want to do this deadline crunch every day. As if I needed yet another excuse to push the limits.

93

Jee and I walked to the library for our Monday library trip and as we left the front porch, I got a phone call, a long phone call. As we walked, I talked and Jake was his wonderful, patient self walking alongside me, noticing the world and walking in his jagged little "Ooo, what's that?" walk.

When I ended the phone call about nine blocks later, I heard him saying, "91, 92, 93..." I asked what he was doing.

"Counting litter. There are so many people who just let litter leave their hands. They shouldn't drop it. 94. They should keep it... 95... in their hands until... 96... they get to a garbage can..."

His little pro-cleanliness talk rambled on for the last four blocks to the library. What an awesome little guy. He loves seeing the world take shape through numbers and other graspable concepts.

Little legs

Today goes down in history as being the Day of Nirvana for me.

I went on my first run with my daughter. Up until tonight, I hadn't considered this as a possiblity. I never visualized what it might be like to see my daughter love running like I did / do.

We went to the park after dinner, dug in the sand for a few minutes then my legs got itchy. This time of night I usually get itchy legs, but tonight I had two little kids in tow, not really a time to stretch my legs.

Nevertheless, just for fun I started jogging around the park in tight little circles on the path that wound around the sandbox. I felt very much like a caged cat. Less than a minute later, Aee popped up, asking for a race. "Come on mamma!" She took off without waiting for a reply. Her little legs pumped ahead of me and I found I had a hard time keeping up.

Nirvana!

My heart sang as I saw that she now has both speed and grace. She always had an intuitive grace, but the speed was something new.

There's this little thing that we have always done before we race. We put our feet in the start position, one foot placed in the lead, straight ahead, and arms at the ready. We do a little Rocky-style punch-punch-punch to get the arms loosened up, ready to help the body propel itself properly. Seeing Aee do the little punch-punch-punch then take off like a bolt of princess-powered lightning, wow.

My heart be still.

Off and running

Today I said goodbye to my eldest and my husband. They are off to explore the east coast, Eee's old stomping ground. A few oddities:

* It's the first vacation Eee has ever taken, literally the first. Every other trip has been for family reunions, funerals, work, or other obligations. Once he went to Mexico with a school group. Never has he taken his own self-propelled vacation. Wow.

* It's the first time Vee has seen the east coast, a deep regret of mine. I wish I had taken my kids on the get-to-know-America tour back in their middle school years when it was most appropriate.

* It's the first time in a long time that Vee and Eee have had a chance to hang out, just the two of them, since we used to do Father/Son Time ages ago, literally five years ago. Wow.

"Happy" and emotional intelligence

It won't come as a shock to anyone that I probably score low in emotional intelligence. I haven't actually taken any EQ tests, but I guarantee I would score low if I did take anything that measured my ability to perform well in that particular regard.

One of the aspects I have been working on lately is on "looking away when trying to postpone temporary satisfaction for a greater, later reward." The words, "look away" come to mind often during the day. I am not very good at it. I tend to hammer at a problem until it's fixed. But, that's not always the intelligent choice.

So, practical application = earlier this week, when going through a particularly rough spot, I was trying to "look away" from a temporarily unsolvable problem that needed time and space to solve itself. Crying wasn't helping. "Working through the issues" was just getting me deeper into yuckiness. I don't drink, smoke or do anything else to numb pain, so my options were limited. I needed something mighty powerful to boost, distract, and refocus me on other, happier topics.

I have no idea why this came to mind, but I remembered a bottle of expensive hand lotion my Mom & Dad got me for Christmas, Clinque Happy. I ran and got it, rubbed it on and disappeared into the sensation of the fragrance. There is something so magically deep about the Happy smell. Every time I smell it, I remember springtime on the farm where I grew up. Sometimes, especially in the spring when the smells of the outdoors were sweeter and fresher than any other season, I would go out to the field and lie down in the grass. It was so much taller than me that it would completely engulf me except for a spot of sky. It was a scary sort of sweetness. I could never be fully sure that a goat or cow wouldn't casually wander over and step on me if I dozed off. Even if I was fully alert, it was easy enough for a spider to creep on over and climb right across me, but that was the exact sort of experience I currently was in -- scared about doing something with a certain risk factor, yet embracing the joy to be had in the springtime field. Happy is like that smell of that grassy field plus the smell of a million of your favorite flowers.

EQ raised by at least five points, so my score is at least 5. Woot!

Out-run by a 6 yo

I have run cross country, track... have sprinted, run long-distance, done hurdles, relays, the works... and tonight I saw my little 6 yo out-run me.

To top it off, it's the first time little Jee has run with us. I was reading bedtime stories to him and his sister and he overheard me say to the Big Vee, "Hey, let's go out on a run after this."

Jee piped up with, "I want to go! I do. I do!"

"But we run really fast. You won't be able to keep up."

"Wha...? I can run faster than you can!"

"But we run a really long ways, several miles. You won't be able to make it back home."

"Wha...? Did you SEE me last night? I did like 600 jumping jacks. I have endurenss." (He did do 600+. It takes quite a while to do that many reps.)

"But it's your bedtime."

"And I'm not tired! See!" (he spreads his eyes wide open with his fingers)

"But it's raining."

"I love rain!"

"But you're not dressed properly."

And off he runs to dress himself exactly like how we are dressed so that there are no more excuses for why he can't go.

"Fine, you can come... But you have to keep up!"

For nearly the entire run, he was *ahead* of both Vee and Me.

It was so awesome. The rain was coming down slow & gentle, just enough to tell the body that Mother Nature is taking care of hydration issues. But the best part was seeing sparky little Jee running full speed ahead of me.

Even though I warned him to pace himself, he took off like a bullet. Vee had to sprint to get him at the intersections. It was after dark and street lighting is bad. We protected him at intersections.

Jee's little body is pure lean muscle, runner's muscle, thin and swift. He eats mostly fruits, more than 5 a day. He was telling me the other day when I tried to feed him a meat & potatoes meal, "Mom, I'm not a carnivore. I'm a vegetarian or a vegan. I don't know (pause for thought) I'm a health-avore. That's not a word is it... I guess I'm a fruitavore." He's 6 yo and still at around the 50 lb mark. Our cat weighs nearly 20. So, he's 2 1/2 cats worth. I digress.

The sweet spot of this run was the block before the sprint. (The last block is the sprint.) Jee finally was slowing down and asked to be carried. Vee hoisted him up on his shoulders and kept running. I looked over as we ran and saw Jee and Vee backlit by the occasional porch light, Jee's face upturned in the rain, laughing into the night. Vee's shoulders spread wide and strong to carry him easily. I cried. I knew I would never be able to capture that moment fully enough.

The second sweet spot was hearing Vee tell Jee, "Ok, now I've got to put you down. I need to run fast." The second Jee's feet touched the ground, Vee swivelled and sprinted off so fast it was actually a bit scary. Seeing someone disappear into the night like that is a bit disconcerting. Jee followed in his wake and I got to see my children, 1st gen and 2nd gen taking off into the distance. Again, pure beauty.

I'm so lucky.