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?
Monday, June 30, 2008
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.
"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."
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."
Sunday, June 29, 2008
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.
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.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
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.
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.
Monday, June 23, 2008
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...
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.
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.
Monday, June 16, 2008
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?
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.
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.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
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.
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.
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.
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.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
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?
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.
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.
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.
Monday, June 9, 2008
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!"
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!"
Saturday, June 7, 2008
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...
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? =/
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? =/
Thursday, June 5, 2008
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).
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.
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.
Monday, June 2, 2008
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.
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!
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!
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