Amy made this incredible snake for Tanner and 2 little snakes for Kate (a Mommy and a baby snake). They love them. Tanner carried his around all night and now it rests peacefully on the end of his bed, where all of his prized toys go. Kate sleeps with hers as well, along with her other 20+ stuffed animals.
This is the only picture we have from Christmas morning...Tanner was so anti-picture. Then Kate copied and she was anti-picture. So this one was taken in hiding, without flash, when it was still pitch black outside....creating that beautiful grainy, blurry, dark look. = ) All Kate wanted for Christmas was a baby crib. She loves it.
Kate was in love (in a very motherly way) with her baby cousin Daniel.
Buzz Lightyear jammies from Ama....which he's tried to where every single night since Christmas.
Ama playing with her grandchildren at the park. Who knew our leaves changed colors in December?
- People Magazine. I have a degree in English. I even graduated with honors. I've read many of the classics, and have slogged my way through Faulkner with the best of them. As such, I should be embarrassed all to hell to read People. But, almost nothing makes me happier on a Friday night. If I can read it in a hot bath with a glass of Riesling (or a Diet Wild Cherry Pepsi) perched on the edge of the tub, so much the better.
- Bad Pop Music. One of my favorite hobbies is scoping out new music. I actually spend a fair amount of my time listening to music-related podcasts and reading music blogs. Few things thrill me as much as finding an inventive new song and adding it to my music library. 2009 found me grooving to Metric, the XX, Animal Collective, and Thao. Why, then, do I have "I Can't Wait" by Nu Shooz on my iPod? And "Der Kommissar" by After the Fire? Should I not be horribly ashamed? There are a handful of songs I cannot stop myself from liking. Do you remember the song "Dance with Me" by Orleans? I don't have that one on my iPod but if it comes on the radio, I am incapable of turning it off. Seriously. "Let it lift you off the grounnnnnnd . . . "
- Chocolate Chip Cookies (followed closely by the all-American brownie). My palate is vastly unsophisticated. I don't like cheesecake. I don't like flan. No to coconut, stuff with fruit jammed in it (I love fruit but I don't want it stuck in places it doesn't belong), and eclairs (stuff with goop inside it - blech). Nay, I prefer the same thing I preferred when I was five. Chocolate chip cookies. Brownies. No fancy ingredients, but oh. so. good.
- Talk shows. I've never been one for soap operas, but I do love to watch a good pithy topic played out on a talk show. I mostly stopped watching Oprah once she started blathering on about her "spirit" and other self-help topics. I watch Dr. Phil when he's got an interesting guest on. I want to start a drinking game where you have to down a shot every time Dr. Phil says, "This ain't my first rodeo." I've also been known to watch the occasional court show. I live to hear Judge Judy tell some slack-jawed defendant, "I'm smarter than you even on your BEST day."
I'll have to post Christmas another day. The very few pictures we have are on Marion's camera. But to sum it up, Christmas couldn't have been better. Tons of good food, great company, beautiful weather and I have 2 kids that totally and completely believe in Santa so Christmas morning was magical.
I took care of most of the Christmas preparations, but P took it upon himself to go out and get her four sets of super hero figurines. "Ugh," I thought. He handed them to me to wrap and I put as little effort into it as humanly possible.
When A opened those packages on Christmas morning, however, the two of them huddled excitedly over the action figures. "That's the Flash! That's Wolverine!" They talked about which of the toys depicted super heroes and which were villains. I just shook my head. "Bless their nerdy little hearts," I thought. But then it happened: Wonder Woman somehow turned up in the dollhouse.
"No super heroes in the dollhouse!" I said (quite emphatically, I might add.)
"Maybe the super heroes can hang out in the attic of the dollhouse," replied my husband as he posed Wonder Woman in the kitchen.
"How about we dig a hole under the dollhouse and they can live down there?" I suggested.
Meanwhile, one of the legitimate inhabitants of the dollhouse, the mama, disappeared. We searched everywhere for her. Later, we learned that the figurine had never left the dollhouse - my daughter had shoved her into the oven and closed the door. I am not really sure what to make of that. I had trouble finding a family to live in the dollhouse and bought what I could find, which is why the house is inhabited by an African-American mom, an Asian dad, and a blond-haired, blue eyed daughter. We're all about diversity here, people.
On Christmas Day, our daughter received a little make-up set from my sister-in-law (and T, if you are reading my blog: this is war. Your kid is getting a drum kit and a puppy from us next Christmas. And oil paints.) The set included little bottles of nail polish. The kid demanded to have her fingernails painted almost immediately. And P, God bless him, obliged. When he was done painting her nails, he blew on them. Then he flapped his hands at the wrist and said, "Dry them like this."
When I met that young Marine on the dance floor those many years ago, I never pictured the day when he would paint his little girl's nails and, moreover, do it so precisely. I never imagined that young jarhead saying, "Wipe your gyna*!" and then making up a little song about the importance of doing just that.
In a few years, when she is accusing us of ruining her life just by breathing, I hope she'll remember . . .
*pronounced "guy-na" - it's a family term
Only one creature was stirring, she was cleaning the commode.
The children were sleeping, all snug in their beds,
While visions of X-box 360 and IPODS flipped through their heads.
Dad was snoring in front of the family TV
With a half-constructed bike propped up on his knee.
So only Mom heard the reindeer hooves clatter,
Which made her sigh, 'Now what's the matter?'
With toilet brush still clutched in her hand,
She descended the stairs and saw an old man
All covered with soot, which fell with a shrug'
'Oh great,' muttered Mom, 'now I have to clean up the rug.'
'Ho! Ho! Ho!' cried Santa, 'I'm glad you're awake---
My gift to you was especially difficult to make.'
'Thanks Santa, but all I want is time alone.'
'Exactly!' he chuckled, 'so I've made you a clone.'
'A clone?' she muttered. 'What good is that?'
Now run along Santa, I've no time to chat.'
Then out walked the clone, the dear mother's twin,
Same hair and same eyes, the same double chin.
'She'll cook and she'll dust, she'll mop every mess,
You'll relax, take it easy, watch the Young and Restless.'
'Fantastic!' mom cheered, 'My dream has come true!'
'I'll shop and I'll read and I'll sleep the night through!'
From the room up above, the youngest did fret.
'Mommy come quickly----I'm scared and I'm wet!'
The clone replied, 'I'm coming sweetheart.'
'WOW!' the mom smiled. 'She sure knows her part.'
The clone changed the small one and sung him a tune
As she bundled him up in a blanket cocoon.
'You're the best mommy ever---I really love you!'
The clone smiled and said, 'I love you too!'
The real mom frowned and said 'Santa , no deal!
That's my baby's love that she's trying to steal.'
Smiling wisely Santa said, 'To me it's so clear,
Only one loving mother is needed right here.'
The mom kissed her child and tucked him in bed,
'Thank you so much, dear Santa, for clearing my head',
Knowing time goes too fast ,and it won't be too long,
That her children will no longer need her cradle nor song,
The clock on the mantle then began to chime;
Santa whispered to the clone, 'It works every time.'
And with the clone at his side, Santa said,' Goodnight
Merry Christmas, dear mom, you will be all right!'
My mom, in her infinite wisdom, told me this: "Santa takes a pill and it makes him very, very small. He walks right under the door!"
As implausible as this explanation may seem now, I totally bought it. I think I just needed something, some reassurance that Santa would not face any obstacles in bringing me my gifts. You do NOT want to make things difficult for St. Nick, through such means as not having a chimney. I did briefly wonder how this microscopic Santa would get my full-sized presents under the apartment's front door, but I quickly dismissed it.
Fortunately for us, our current home does have a chimney. It's been cold lately and we've regularly had fires blazing in the evening. It has occurred to A that this could pose a problem for the man in red. She wants my solemn promise that we will not have a fire on Christmas Eve. "Because Santa might burn his feet!" Then she got worried that Santa might also snag the bag somehow and tear a hole in it, thereby allowing my daughter's presents to fall right out on the roof. I have assured her that the bag is as sturdy as they come.
We also discussed the need for her to be sleeping when Santa comes. "Well, I might hear him ho-ho-ho-ing in the living room," she told me solemnly. I replied that she might but that Santa isn't kidding around about that whole knows-when-you're-awake business. If she hears anything, it'll be Mr. Claus stomping around in the basement and cussing like a longshoreman as he attempts to put together the gazillion piece dollhouse (with six double-sided pages of instructions). Mrs. Claus warned Mr. Claus that he should not wait until the very last minute to assemble the doll house, but Mr. Claus has his head up his ass sometimes.
Now, lest you think we are putting too much emphasis on Santa, know that this is not our sole focus. Some of my happier childhood memories involve Christmas and Santa, and I want my daughter to have that, too. Plus, I know that in only a few short years, some brat at school will tell her what's what and then it'll all be over. I want the magic to last as long as possible. At church last Sunday, the pre-k teacher taught the class about Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, and Christmas. At our church (Unitarian Universalist) there is also an emphasis on the Winter Solstice and the return of the light (as the days slowly grow longer). My daughter knows that Christmas is a celebration of the birth of Jesus, although she did accidentally call him Jevins the other day. We gotta work on that.
So, there is a lot of excitement building at our house. We've got the cookies and even a special plate. The shortest member of our clan has even thrown in some last minute good behavior by being compliant at the store today (it could have had something to do with me telling her that the sleigh has not been loaded yet). It looks like Santa will definitely be stopping at our house tomorrow night. Well, if he can get the %&$*ing dollhouse put together . . .
Within moments, every chair in the room was full and I'd say at least fifty parents had to stand. They stood in a ring around the perimeter of the gym, leaning against the painted cinder block walls. The latecomers to my right did eventually arrive and did share a single folding chair. It was two young women who were both very skinny so I didn't feel all that bad about it. One thing that bugged me was that so many chairs were occupied by very small children who were there to see their older siblings perform. It did seem to me that a lap will do just fine for a small child when adults are left to stand.
My daughter is in 4K so her class took the stage first. I had sent her off looking pretty cute yesterday morning but her hair had taken on a life of its own in the intervening hours. Once she spotted me, she waved frantically and jumped around a bit with excitement. Her class sang a song about a snowman, complete with arm movements. They then launched into a brief little ditty about mittens. I think it goes without saying that my kid, the shortest but cutest in the class, was the star. And then before we knew it they were off the stage and the five-year-old kindergartners were climbing the risers. We sat through two songs from each grade (4K through 5th), and then a grand finale that did not include the 4K class.
As I watched each grade perform, it occurred to me that each class was like a microcosm of society. Each contained: one super tall kid, one super short one, one chubby girl (to whom I can only hope the other kids are kind), one hammy kid who sings a little bit louder than everyone else, one girl who tells all the other kids what to do, one angry boy who doesn't want to be there at all, and one shell-shocked youngster who stares blankly ahead and sings nary a note. I also noted that there seems to be an age at which you can tell the parents have lost control over what their kid wears out of the house. The shift appeared to occur somewhere between third and fourth grades.
Here is a repeat performance (two videos) that took place in our very own living room.
One additional bonus to having my Mom there, is that she brought her camera everyday! I never bring my camera to Disneyland...it just seems like too much to keep track of. But she had hers and took pictures of everything. It was wonderful. Here are all the kids...Tanner, Gracie, Anna, Kate and Aliese.
Tanner loved seeing all the characters. He was so cute to watch. Since his older cousins get all of the characters autographs, Tanner and Kate tagged right along getting as many autographs and pictures as they could.
Tanner's first time sitting on Santa's lap
Snow White kissed Tanner on top of the head and can you tell by the pictures that he liked it?
Thank you again Mom for coming and Rebecca for letting us tag along on your trip. We love you both!
I was elated to see this recent Washington Post article about the training of circus elephants. Don't worry - the article is not overly graphic. Don't be afraid to check it out. When a former elephant trainer acknowledges that there is rampant cruelty in training these animals for circus acts, it's hard to spin it any other way.
Although I don't consider myself an animal rights extremist, I do hold firm the belief that animals should not be used for entertainment purposes. What is done to elephants and other non-human circus performers in the name of good family fun is truly unconscionable. There is nothing natural or fun about wrapping ropes around a young elephant calf (who has probably been forcibly removed from his mother) and forcing him to the ground. And that's just the tip of the iceberg.
I hope other parents will consider rejecting the circus as a form of family entertainment. Your kids would probably enjoy a day at the park just as much. And as a bonus, you wouldn't have to buy any overpriced souvenirs.
Shad and all his buddies took all their little girls to Princess and the Frog last weekend. The requirements were: only Daddies and daughters and the girls were to be in princess attire. Well of course Tanner wanted to go too, so he and I went to a different theater and went on a Mommy/son date. Apparently Kate fell asleep for about half the movie on Shad's lap, but Tanner was wide-eyed the whole time. He LOVES going to movies. I think he used to just like the popcorn, candy and soda, but now he really likes seeing the movies. He's at such a fun age.
I've debated whether or not to share this next wealth of information...mostly because it's embarrasing to myself (showing how much my kids watch tv while I'm pregnant), but I've decided to share. Do any of you do Netflix? Well, we used to do it, but never watched the movies mailed to us so we canceled, but now they do this thing called "Instant Play". Tons and tons of movies and shows you can stream on your computer instantly. Shad had been buying a movie a week for the kids to watch on Saturday mornings, so we could sleep in longer (meaning sleep until 6:45am instead of 5am). They are always so much more entertained if it's a new movie they've never seen before, so it was worth it to Shad, to buy a new movie every week. I know, it sounds like a huge waste of money, but when your kids wake up at 5am daily, it seems worth it. Anyhow, now we can just set them up in front of a laptop in our room, or in front of the desktop with a new movie/show whenever they want. It is fantastic. And we pay $8.99 a month. We also get the movies they mail to us, but we use the Instant Play everyday. If you're wondering what the odd looking movie is on the monitor, it's Madeline. = )
We looked at Christmas lights for Family Night with the Biesingers....Tanner refused to be in our family picture (you can see his legs in army pants behind Shad) but was willing to pose with Sia.
Rebecca and her girls were here all of last week and it was so much fun. The kids loved having their cousins here and I loved having Rebecca here. Tanner had a gigantic crush on Anna, his 8 year-old cousin. He followed her everywhere like a puppy dog, sat by her at every meal and during every movie and wanted to do everything she did. Kate loved being carried by Aliese and playing with Gracie. We were all sad to see them go.
I can't believe Christmas is in 9 days. How does it go by so fast?
I went to the doc yesterday, and he my c-section from Jan 30th to Feb 6th...I was less than thrilled.
Let me tell you, it was a hard sell. I spun it as a "won't it be fun to wear a costume" sort of adventure, but she saw it a bit differently. A lot differently, in fact. She has worn only dresses for almost two years now. I went to Goodwill and picked up some overalls, a red shirt, a red bandanna, and some gloves (I cut off the tips of the fingers - very clever, ne c'est pas?). I bought these items in the boys' section. If my daughter knew this little fact, I seriously think she would experience a psychotic break and never be the same again. I thought of taking a bit of soot from the fireplace and smudging her cheek with it but I knew it would never fly.
The pre-k kids are cast mostly as extras in these annual performances, so A didn't have any lines or anything. She wandered around the stage and sat in a painted train when directed to do so. Eventually she left the stage altogether and sat on her dad's lap for the remainder of the play. She was a cute hobo, but the cuteness was short-lived. She demanded to change into a dress as soon as we got home.
After church, we made cut-out cookies. I rolled out the dough and cut the shapes, and the kid decorated them. And by decorate, I mean that she poured enough sprinkles on each one to choke a horse. Fa la la la la!
A few random updates:
I had no idea that the mystery of the doll with the green thing on her head would keep people up at night. A few friends and aquaintances have posted various theories on my Facebook page. "Do you think maybe she meant Tinkerbell?" Or, "I saw this doll at Target - maybe this is the one?"
The good news is that A has mentioned fifty other toys since she first asked for the doll with the green thing on her head. My mom is getting her the Tiana doll from Princess and The Frog. Then, if that's not the doll the kid was talking about, we'll just say, "That's what we thought you meant." Case closed.
This "I want I want I want" business is precisely why I'm on a mission to have her buy a gift for the Toys for Tots program. Maybe it will hold some meaning for her if she can hand a doll or a game directly to a
The other update is that the kid is not deaf. My theory was correct. She can hear but she doesn't listen. I took her to see her pediatrician last week. He scraped a few hunks of wax out of her right ear with a wee little spoon (wait, you weren't eating were you?) and then sent her into the next room for the test. I had forced A to practice ahead of time when we were waiting in the exam room. I'd say "booooooooooop" in various tones and volumes and she'd dutifully raise her hand.
The evaluator sat her on a stool and attached the headphones to her noggin. I perched in a chair behind her. The test had three phases. For the first two, she was doing fine, jutting that little hand into the air right on cue. By the time phase three came around, though, the urge to spin on the stool had overtaken her. She completed two full revolutions before I stopped her. The headphone cord was wrapped around her torso so I unwrapped her and then gripped the stool in my hands, holding it in place. I was trying my damnedest to avoid an unneeded trip the audiologist. Fortunately, she finished the test and I was handed a slip of paper stating that she can hear. Eureka! I then had to mail that back to the health department.
So, I think we're all set until next year, when she fails the test at school again. Speaking of school, we received her first ever report card yesterday. She was rated on various skills on a scale of 0 to 4. She received ten 4's, eleven 3's, and two 2's. 4 equates to "achieved skills," 3 is "most skills" and 2 is "some skills." As for the 2's, she got one in "follows a sequence of directions." Okay, no surprise there. If I send her into her bedroom to get her pajamas, she'll walk to her bedroom, find that she has no earthly recollection about why she's in there, and start coloring or something. The other one was in "hears and discriminates the sounds of language." I'm not really sure what was being tested there. I already know my daughter is borderline genius - I don't need no stinkin' report card!
Seriously, though, I'd like to thank those who read my random little blog and those who link to it from their own. And the 26 souls who follow it on Google Friend Connect. I have to blow a kiss to my longtime friend J, who wrote "Obsessed with every detail of this fascinating and alluring woman's life" on his Google profile. Ladies, if you don't have a supportive gay male friend, I suggest you seek one out immediately. While I still have not met my goal of submitting my writing to various sources for possible publication, every day I inch just a little closer. The dream, it remains. Thank you for reading!
In other news, my friend Kari Beth came over yesterday to take some photos of my daughter. I still have not decided if I am sending out Christmas cards this year. I'm under a lot of stress at work right now and I'm really trying to enjoy the holidays without adding any additional angst. In any case, I've got a few good candidates if I do decide to send cards.