An Interview with the Scales - Merry Christmas and Happy New Year 2011

By the authority of motherhood, I gathered my children, Henry (3), Ethan (9) and Alexandra (19) around for the purpose of this holiday newsletter. Ok, you got me, the only reason they sat down at the dining table was the bribery of ice cream and pies for breakfast. The father of this home knew better and was already at his spot waiting for the conversation to start.

Mom aka interviewer: What were the most exciting things you’ve done in 2011?

Henry: Kisses lights. (Translation: Christmas lights. But you need to say it with a “kissing” sound. Relevance to the question? None.)

Ethan: Las Vegas trip with Dad; went to San Francisco in spring break; family reunion in July and the Disneyland trip. Oh, and went to a Ducks’ game with my A1 friend, and playing Pop Warner championship football game at Autzen stadium and was cheered on by mom, dad, aunts, uncles and a cousin/photographer.

Xan: Nothing too exciting for me! I graduated from high school and started college. This year was just a stepping stone towards my future. I also started dating a pretty fantastic guy named Zack and got a job at one of the last Sam Goody stores in the country.

Don: Family reunion in Waldport. Regular participation of “occupy bathroom”. Got a flat screen tv and HD cable. Went to a Ducks game in the Club at Autzen with Deb (free popcorn!)

Deb: I started a vegetable garden for the very first time this year! The exciting part was that I planted pumpkins and got acorn squash instead.

Interviewer: What was the one thing (or two) that you wish you had done different or not at all in 2011?

Henry: I be good, no time out! (It’s a response after his mom said “Get off the table or you will get a time-out!”)

Ethan: Ate too much popcorn at the movies and should have ridden the Tower of Terror at Disneyland.

Xan: I think one of my biggest mistakes this year was wearing shoes with ZERO support to work. Other than that, I would have to admit that I wish I hadn't procrastinated as much as I did in high school! I still did fine, I just could have saved myself the stress of getting things completed at the last minute.

Don: I wish I hadn’t turned down the ward chorister job at church. We could sing all verses of “Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief” each week!.

Deb: Donating blood without eating breakfast…or lunch.

Interviewer: Did you learn something new or unusual in 2011?

Henry: Potty is over rated; diaper is still the way to go. (It is amazing how a mother understands her child.)

Ethan: The sea lion caves is the biggest sea lion cave in the whole wide world. The Snake River starts at the Idaho, runs through Oregon and Goose lake is bordered in Oregon & California. Columbia River killed lots of people (This writer did not research this statement for its accuracy. If you do dispute, please call 1-800-WHOCARES.)

Xan: I'm 19 years old. I'm ALWAYS learning something new. Narrowing that down is too hard.

Don: General anesthesia is awesome. I wonder if Michael Jackson’s doctor can get me some of that stuff after he is out of prison?

Deb: A couple of Advil before mammogram exam was how I survived my first “pressing” experience.

(Interviewer: Really? Can you just see the signs of aging on the parents? Next year they will be telling the world about other medical procedures and showing the symptoms of early onset dementia.)

Interviewer: What do you look forward to in 2012?

Henry: I-th cream, peease? (Ice cream, please?)

Ethan: My birthday. Summer. Hawaii.

Xan: Nothing in particular. I just look forward to continuing my education and being that much closer to my career

Don: What else?! Non-stop coverage of the presidential election! Actually, it’s kicking Deb’s butt when we do the Pear Blossom’s 10- mile run.

Deb: LMAO when Don tries to kick my butt.

Interviewer: What would you like to say to our family and friends at this time?

Henry: Merry Christmas!! (screamed it out after his brother uttered the phrase.)

Ethan: Merry Christmas?

Xan: Hope you all have an excellent year!

Don: I love and appreciate my brother and sisters; and love all my nephews and nieces. They are an amazing generation of fine people! We suffered the loss of a beloved sister; but we also welcomed many sweet, darling babies (and more next year!) to our family. Love to our friends near and far.

Deb: Can’t say it better than Don, so I’ll borrow something from Benjamin Franklin “Be always at war with your vices, at peace with your neighbors, and let each new year find you a better man (or woman.)”

Ethan became a photographer at the happiest place on earth

I just wanted a picture of me with John Steinbeck's quote next to the Millennium tree. It's an amazing discovery: somehow the Disney people were able to get cross-section of this tree and display it at the "Redwood Creek Challenge Trail" in Disney's California Adventure. The tree fell in a rainstorm and it was estimated to be over 1,000 years old. So I asked Ethan to take the pictures and once the camera was in his hands, he started position the camera in all different angles. Trying to "coax" me into being a better model (I guess?), he said "work with me, baby." I busted out laughing and just laughed the whole time he was taking pictures. I do hope Ethan does not become Austin Danger Power.

Because he's gotten such a positive response from his mother, he decided that he should take more pictures. I do have to admit: he was a pretty good photographer. These are some good examples (although his favorite model is, of course, his lovely mother... : )

Ethan and mom spent one afternoon in the park just the two of us. It was wonderful spending time with Ethan because he's so agreeable and is simply fun to be around. We took advantage of the Photopass photographers and had some pictures taken together.

Mr. D's five minutes of fame at the happiest place on earth

If you know Mr. D at all, you would agree that he is one of those folks who do not like attention of any kind. Outwardly reserved and often times with an air of aloofness, he is never the one to seek lime light... But if you got game, you got game, baby. And it happened at the happiest place on earth where he was truly at the center of attention.

One of the fun things at Disneyland are these live performances which happen not inside a building, not in a theater - it's right outside, under the sun and the sky. The bright and colorful display of the props; the outrageously exaggerated costumes and the loud, blasting music. You can't help but slow down and stop for them (not to mention that they pretty much block the entire "street" for these shows.)

It was snack time for us. We stood at the Hollywood Blvd. and here comes the parade of characters from the "Monster Inc." Isn't it great? A snack and a show - everyone's watching and gawking; and for once Henry's top of lung shouting "Kitty" did not even raise an eyebrow. Mr. D was the designated popcorn holder and since we were so focusing on the show, no one really noticed that Mr. D was enjoying the popcorn ALL by himself. That's until one of the "monsters" asking for assistance from us human.

Mr. Monster pointed at our direction and his words came through the microphone quite clearly: "Over there, sir, in the green Oregon cap, would you help us?" I turned around and looked at Mr. D who just put a handful of popcorn into his mouth and was munching rather loudly. He heard the call, shook his head and averted his eyes (if his mouth weren't full, he would probably say "No way, no how!") The request was repeated, "Sir, would you help us?" Mr. D, still focusing on chewing, did not respond. I took the popcorn from him and a pat on his shoulder, "C'mon! Go help them!!" He walked out of the crowd rather dejectedly. Yeah, I don't think I'd be pleased to give up on greasy popcorn, eh?

And the conversation went like this:
Mr. Monster: "What's your name, sir?"

Mr. D: "Don"

"Where are you from?" (Oh, you couldn't tell by his t-shirt and cap?)

"Oregon."

"Don from Oregon. Where you are from, do people think you are funny?"

"Uh... Not really."

"Oh, people here at California Adventure do!"

"Haha."

And Mr D was given an assignment which the pictures below will demonstrate how well he accomplished the task.

While these two "outfits" earned quite a bit of laughters, the next one was the one making Mr. D famous.

Henry's tantrums at the happiest place on earth

This is Henry at his favorite spot in Disneyland - Tarzan's Tree House. Yes, he was quite cocky - he did not need any help to climb up the stairs. He rudely cut through many adults and children leaving his mother trailing behind him with apologies and trying to catch her breath. (Whoever said that having a young child keeps an old parent young should have his or her head examined!) So the first round of climbing was fun and mom got to snap a couple of pictures of Henry in action.

Dad and big brother were in line waiting to do the "Indiana Jones" ride. The tree house provided good distraction and a bit of exertion (mom's hoping that Henry would tire out and, perhaps, take a nap?) As almost all things with Henry, mom's plans meant nothing to him whether he knew it or not. At the end of our second round of climbing the tree house, Dad and Ethan came to find us because they'd done the ride. It's time to move on to the next ride/adventure except Henry disagreed.

Have you ever been to a crowded place where you wish you could just put something down at a parking spot to secure it? Well, I know just the "thing" to do: Take Henry with you and try to convince him why he needs to abandon whatever activity he is happily doing and come with you to do something else or go someplace else. Henry will not have any of it. He will scream at you " I don'ta like it!" (Here you have to imagine the Italian accent.) and if his words don't produce any results, he will simply protesting by flopping down on the concrete ground. Like so:

It's amazing how effective it is to keep people away from you. I wish I'd thought of this when I go shopping at Costco on Saturdays. And what was a mother to do but quickly snap a picture or two? There is a saying and it goes something like this: "Revenge is best served cold," eh? The next picture gives you a better perspective:

Henry did not disappoint those who knew that there ought to be more than one episode of temper tantrums. It happened where the flying Dumbo is. No doubt it is a strange concept for a two-year-old that one must behave civilized and wait in line for rides. The word "patience" means as much as "poop"; and the phrase "Wait your turn" sounds much more like "blah, blah, blah" to Henry. People might tolerate his cutting in line at the tree house, they certainly aren't going to put up with him trying to run ahead and ride Dumbo. Finally we were sitting in the flying Dumbo. Dad was encouraged (and threatened) to take the privilege of sitting with Henry because mom needed a break... uh, no, mom wanted to take pictures. It was a fun ride in all honesty and Henry's laughing and squealing did bring smiles to many faces.

Another ridiculous concept for a two-year-old is: one must get up and leave when the ride is over. Try explain to Henry why he had to get out of Dumbo when it stopped. If you think that "wait your turn" is a hard concept for him; "It's someone else's turn" makes even less sense. And here shown mom's wisdom of having Dad be by Henry. Dad would sooner admit that he adores Snow White than having to admit that the child flopping on the ground is related to him. He wouldn't let it happen. His solution was quite direct and no fuss (except from Henry.)

Henry did not go quietly. He hollered and called out "MAAAAAAAAAAA, PEEEEEEESE" (Translation: Mom, please!) His cold hearted mom just raised up the camera and took pictures of him.

Happiest Place on Earth

We love Disneyland.

It is true that you don’t see many smiling faces at the happiest place on earth (I did pay attention this time, GPA, and your observation was accurate.) It is true that it’s a bit silly to stand in the line for 40 minutes for a two-minute ride. It is true that the over-priced bottled water, corn dogs and churros would cause indigestion for some and it happens before they take a bite. It is also true that the establishment reeks of the stink of big corporation; and is a showcase of how money can create images and how propagandas can be done so discreetly and beautifully.

But we face truth with dignity and preparations; and the fact that Mr. D has been working hard to make sure this trip is possible helps, too. It is not difficult to conquer truth with experiences and with courage to say “no” to your children when they want everything in the gift shop(s). Along the way you discover that you are actually enjoying being in a crowd; being within the earshot of other parents’ frustrated command: “Dorothy, get over here!”; of children’s high pitched exclamations: “Loooook! Mickey Mouse!!”; of the screaming coming from the rides and the laughing and giggling of the young and the old. You are not really yourself when you are in Disneyland - you are a princess or a pirate; a time traveler or a story teller; a mouse or a bear; a magician or a monster - and whatever it is, it suits you perfectly.

We don’t always find happiness in truth though we do in Disneyland. I was convinced the moment I saw Henry running through the made-believe redwood “forest” and bouncing on the suspension bridge, smiling big at his own bravery. Ethan enthusiastically swing or flying across an area where it’s cushioned with rubbery debris. My heart found indescribable joy when I saw the brothers holding hands walking through the bridges made of ropes. Hanging onto each other, they will take care of each other when one day their parents disappear with the dust.

And there are more to be posted because the memories and the smiles are still fresh and the dreamer is still dreaming.

In Remembrance - D. C. adventure

It was a somber day and how could it not be when you are in Arlington Cemetery? The rows and rows of white marble tomb stones; each craved with a different name, years of birth and death - simple and ordinary - James E. Smith, 1909 - 1949. I couldn't help but wonder how many stories were shorten abruptly; how many lives had taken a different turn and how much memories have faded over the years and how many hair have turned gray in the longing for the dead? We walked around the beautiful landscape in reverence; watched the military practice in front of the Eternal Flame where J. F. K. was laid to rest; found the tomb of the unknown soldier and watched this Marine walked 12 steps over the right side of the tomb, stood still for 15 seconds and walked another 12 steps back to the left.

The hill was peaceful, the grass green and lush and the sky was bright and blue with the promise of another sunny day with heat and humidity. We hiked up to General Lee's mansion (it was his wife's property really - she was the granddaughter of Martha Cutis Washington.) and the view from the hilltop was breathtaking. It is not difficult to recognize the landmarks of the city, the capitol of the nation. A nation "...under G-d, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all." What a grand and admirable concept; and what a tremendous sacrifice goes with it.

I found my steps heavy with melancholy and my heart ladened with sadness remembering the War memorials that we visited yesterday: the WWII memorial, the Korean War memorial, the Vietnam War memorial. LCG was able to find the name of her father's childhood friend who died in Vietnam and KG found the tribute sign for the Battle of the Bulge where her late father was a part of at the WWII memorial. The stories did not end with the departed; their family, children, friends, carried on - life goes on - and these memorials were built because the living need to be reassured that the death was not in vain; the war was necessary and that the dead die heroes. Or is it?

At the WWWII memorial, I lingered at the Pacific side. Remembering the story of my maternal grandfather who was drafted by the Japanese government and fought for the Japanese army and ended up missing (and presumed dead) in the Philippines. Remembering my dad's experience of being kidnapped at age 12, becoming boy-soilder carrying a gun and fighting a war which he had no concept nor understanding of. His father had no idea where he was and what had become of him. The last sentence my paternal grandfather uttered was "Is Xaio-Jung-Ze home?" These people of mine, some of them had never touched a gun or igniting a bomb, went through the torment and horrid of the war. War is an ugly thing and sometimes I think the death is the easier part of it. The aftermath of the ones who have survived war is the bitter fruit to swallow. How it altered one's mind/thoughts/life is something no research or study could put it to certain terms.  These revenants of the wars are living among us and no memorials grand enough to bring them back to life.

These are my thoughts.

Library of Congress

I cannot say for certain if this is Confusious's saying; nor am I able to translate it into Chinese. It's kind of like when I see someone has a Chinese character tattooed on his body and I wonder if the person knew of the meaning of such a character. If so, did the person really intend to tattoo the word "pig" on the back of his neck? By the cocky way the person is walking around, I just smirk and walk way saying to myself "That'll do, Pig, that'll do."

But the Library of Congress is truly amazing. Maybe the reason it impressed me so much was because I did not know what to expect. It was the first spot of the first day of our D.C. itinerary. We got there before 8:30 a.m. which was really 5:30 a.m. for us Oregonian. As you can tell from the pictures, we're doing quite well for only have slept for, say, three hours before we were driven to the parking garage, took the Metro (aka commuter train) and walked to the Library of Congress. The tour was informative and our tour guide had repeatedly told our group of tourists to be careful walking up and down the stairs which are made of granites. In other words, if you are not paying attention and take a fall, it will hurt like a mo fo. I shall proudly report that none of us three took a fall; instead, some middle aged guy with an orange t-shirt did fall and whacked his knee pretty badly.

My favorite spot of the entire building is where, to honor Thomas Jefferson, they made a "library" of his design. It is set up like a circular room with the book shelves as the walls. In the middle of this room is a desk with a chair - all antique looking as Thomas Jefferson would've had it that way. The book shelves are filled with the books which Thomas Jefferson sold to the Congress. Most of them were damaged or destroyed by a fire long ago and the Library has been trying to make the collection whole again. Here is a link if you wish to know more about it.

www.loc.gov/exhibits/jefferson/jefflib.html

I walked by these books, took a good look at all the titles and was in such reverence because Thomas Jefferson had physically touched, read, and comprehended these books. From these books he learned, wrote, reflected and eventually helped found a country that is extraordinary, unprecedented and brand spanking new. Mr. Jefferson has not been an admirable figure in my mind ever since I read "First Family" and "John Adams." But I forgave him that day when I stood in his library and experienced his love for books, for learning and most of all, for being an independent thinker. From one book lover to another, Mr. Jefferson, you are adorable.

Here is a snap shot of yours truly admiring the building.

Auntie Jane

Here is a picture of Auntie Jane's beloved niece and her two travel companions - Goofy and Dufus.

Our D.C. trip would not have been as fun, informative and absolutely memorable if it weren’t for our wonderful, fabulous hostess, Auntie Jane. She welcomed us into her beautiful colonial style home with rooms decorated in the quilts she made. The drool I produced after seeing her quilts were enough to water a garden on a hot August day. With her permission, here are some photos of the quilts for you quilters and lovers of quilts. Please pay specific attention to the two tone Baltimore Album quilt. Auntie Jane won a blue ribbon with that beauty. She thinks a red and white would make a classic color combo. I wish I know how to quilt...

Her knowledge of the city of Washington D.C. and the metro system is like no others. Before we started any tour of certain buildings, she gave us the “inside” information of the in-and-outs of the building; quicker way to go around, better way to enjoy the exhibitions and where to find good drinks and food. She also offered the best “survival” tip: Always walk on the shady side of the sidewalk even if it means you have to cross the street more than once.

Every morning she made sure we had breakfast before we started our day as tourists. She drove us to certain monuments and picked us up after we’ve done our admiring and gawking. (Per KG: she and LCG did the admiring, I did the gawking.) More than anything else, it was so great to be able to come back to a house that felt like home and have all the comfort and amenities of a home at the end of a fun, tiring day. Not to mention home cooked meals and snacks. (Think clam dip with Fritos, baked pita bread w/ sea salt & M&Ms; all sorts of beverages; oh, and the meringue pie!)

After I started writing this post, I realized that we did not have a picture taken with her and her sweet hubby, Neil. We did make sure that LCG had pictures taken with her aunt and uncle whose home she visited for the very first time – with Goofy and Dufus.

Auntie Jane and Uncle Neil: Thank you so much of your kindness, generousity and good humor. We appreciated you so very much!!

Here is the two tone Baltimore Album quilt. The photo above has more details of the patterns.

Auntie Jane got the pattern for this quilt (photo above) from Smithsonian.

I simply adore this one!

Happy Father's Day, Mr. D

My husband, father of my three children, asks me a lot of questions. Most of the time, I do not have an answer for him. Just last night he asked me, while his 2 1/2-year-old "mini-me" sat on the kitchen counter playing with cooking utensils happily, "Why is Henry sitting on the counter?" I thought about it for a second and decided that I will ask the source myself. Using my very serious, judicial assistant, voice, I asked "Henry, why are you sitting on the counter? Your father wants to know." Henry smiled his big smile and said "Maaaameee, nooooo...." Obviously he didn't know what the heck I was asking him. But I persisted, "Henry, your father really wants to know why you are sitting on the counter. If you cannot articulate yourself, I expect you to write a 5-page report detailing the reasons and explanation as to why you are sitting on the kitchen counter." I tilted my gaze towards Mr. D and, quickly, he said "I got it, I got it, smart aleck."

Instances like the one mentioned above is nothing new in our daily life, which will be 22 years this October, and he is still learning that, although as intelligent as I am, I do not have all the answers. Some of his questions I can answer with an educated guess, like "Where is my U of O shorts?" "Try the laundry room?" "Where are my dress pants?" "In the closet." But some questions, unless Santa finally brings me the crystal ball which I've asked for since I knew of his existence, I will never, ever, be able to respond, i.e. "Why can't the kids pick up after themselves?" "??" "Why does Henry have to destroy everything we have?" "??" "Why couldn't it rain AFTER I mow the lawn?" "??" "Why do people have to drive like idiots?" "??"

Then again, he always know how to answer my questions. Pulling up a pair of Levi's, I asked him "Do I look fat in this?" He didn't even blink "Welcome to my world." Shopping together at Macy's, I said (in reality, indirectly asking) "Oh, this ____ (you may use "shoes", "purse", "skirts", "necklace", "bracelets"...etc., to fill in the blank.) soooo cute." He said "Get it if you like it." Never mind that the walk-in closet is filled with my stuff and he keeps most of his suits in his office. Came home from work one evening, I announced "I am taking a girls' trip to Washington D. C." He didn't even raise an eyebrow "Have fun." I wanted to learn horseback riding, so I can ride with one of my best friends. "Sure. Be careful." he said. The most outrageous thing I said to him was "Do you think I can run Pear Blossom 10-miles next year?" He knew I hadn't run since elementary school at that time but he said "Do it."

Oh, all right, he did say "no" to me a couple of times: I really, really wanted a Smart car before we knew of the existence of our "unexpected blessing." He said "Not a snow ball's chance in hell." citing the danger of such a car which is no bigger than a golf cart. I texted him while I was at Smithsonian's Museum of Natural History, inquiring the possibility of his obtaining the Hope diamond for his beloved wife. He didn't even bother to reply - I took that as a "No." Imagine how crestfallen, how disappointed I was which is a darn good justification for retail therapy, right? Darn right!!

And what was he doing when I was out riding horses, running or touring the Capitol? Vacuuming, doing laundry, yard work, hanging out with the children and, once in a while, taking naps. This is in addition to 50 plus working hours per week. I often think and truly believe that marriage is a lottery and I've won a big prize. He is the consistent and solid segment of my life when everything, everybody is changing and becoming. Without having to understand every single strain of my thought and every details of my ideas, he takes me as I am - moody, sentimental, cranky and maybe at times, crazy - and he says "It's all good."

As usual he doesn't want anything for Father's Day or Birthday or Christmas... So I am dedicating this post to him. As he would no doubt agree that it's "cheap and cheerful." Happy Father's Day, Mr. D.

The Flight from SFO to BWI - D. C. Adventures Part I

“Everybody knows, everybody knows where we are going, yeah, we are going down…”

We all are experienced travelers with plane rides; the three of us: LCG, KG and I. And we all agreed that the flight from SFO to BWI was the most eventful of all rides we’ve been on.

We were warned: the weather was not nice over the East coast; there was a tornado going on at the Midwest; there were going to be quite a few turbulence; the air was not friendly for planes; oh, but we will get you there. Yeah, we were warned only after we’ve sat down in our seats and the buckle was tightly fastened. None of us was going to be the world’s biggest wuss and stood up, raised our index finger and said “Uh, sorry, I don’t do bumpy rides. Thanks but no thanks.”

It all started with children (of which we were NOT warned) and, boy, was I glad Henry was not on board. He would’ve been the band leader of the screaming, crying tots; of the cackling teens and of the never-ending-talking-giggling-high-pitch-laughing girls. While all these noises were going on, accompanied by several rocking and shaking of the plane; we saw a rabbi who was seated two rows ahead of us jumped out his seat and ran toward the back where the stewardess was. Following him was the man sat next to him who looked a bit uncomfortable, a bit embarrassed. The stewardess ran past us with a blanket in hand and I heard this moaning of a woman “Help me, please help me.” I put my book down and got into my best eavesdropping position (Don’t tsk-tsk me or you might not know what’s going to happen next!) For some reason, the woman must’ve not agreed with the stewardess on something because she yelled again “Help me, somebody help me. I don’t know what’s going on!!” A kind faced woman came over and told the stewardess that she is a nurse and that she would be glad to help out. The stewardess was all too happy to hand over her responsibility, in this case, the blanket which she wasn’t able to put on the woman.

Thanks to my outstanding eavesdropping skill, apparently this was what happened: The woman is diabetic and her blood sugar was low; on top of it, she had a panic attack. (Honestly, with the way the plane was bumping up and down, I could have a nervous breakdown myself.) In the mist of her panic, she took her shirt off and was naked from the waist up; hence the rabbi’s and the male passenger’s reactions and the blanket. The poor woman finally calm down and the nurse sat by her most of the flight. And you might think that we should have a quiet flight from then on – no such luck!

I was feeling physically ill as if I was going to be car sick with the plane going up and down; up and down. Unlike the Disneyland rides, I couldn’t even scream at the top of my lungs. Or stripped like the diabetic lady. It seemed like the pilot came on the intercom every five minutes to tell us to fasten our seat belts; and each time he warned us of the bad weather ahead. KG slides the window up and took a peek outside and we could see the lightening bright and threatening. If all the rocking and bumping weren’t scary enough, seeing the lightening so close was enough to make me take a big gulp of vodka (which I did not do, children.) LCG, KG and I exchanged a look that says "I know what you are thinking, but please don't say it out loud... WE-ARE-GONNA-DIE!"

After a while, I just gave up being scared. If it's my time to go, there would be nothing I could do about it. My children have a good father and Mr. D is young enough to attract others for marriage again; and he is older and wiser NOT to father anymore children so he can focus on MY kids. If there were any regrets, issues need to be resolved – well, it’s too late – so I might as well enjoyed the ride and that’s exactly what I did - except I did change my music from OneRepublic to Elton John. It wasn’t helping that they kept the chorus of “Said, Everybody knows, yeah, everybody knows where we are going, yeah, we are going down…” going and going…

I know a thing or two about a thing or two ... about you

Dear Daughter:

So you graduated from High school last night. The first part of "punishment for being young" (quoting your comment on the year book) is over and done with. Congratulations and here is to the next phrase of punishment for being an adult - cheer, cheer!

I don't wish to offer any advice or tips for your future; rather I want to take you for a walk down the memory lane. I've been asked by many how do I feel about my little girl graduating from high school. Most of the time I smiled and said, I'm so glad she made it. The truth is, from this point onward, I am not going to be a major part of your future; an essence to your existence. In other words, for the past 18 years, your life is part of my life and mine yours. For better and for worse, our life intertwined and mingled in the most precious and volatile way. And now I have to let you be ripped away from me; let you out of the safety net. I shall not disclose the emotions associated with this separation because you will find out one day - when you have your own children.

It is a miracle that you have not developed cross eyes for all the eye-rolling that you've done. Can't tell you how thankful I am of these small yet singificant miracles. One of them is my tongue which is still functional despite all the biting I've done during our many a conversation. It must've taken more than a miracle that my heart works as well as it does for many times it nearly jumped out of my chest when I was in the passenger seat of your driving. Another miracle is hair - yours and mine - you look great in about just every color you've tried on and that mine has not turned all gray. Of all the miracles happened during your teenage years, I appreciate this one the most: your laughter.

O that wicked sense humor of yours - brutal, sharp and lightening quick - had me cracked up; made the I-can't-believe-your-daughter-just-said-that face to your dad; choked up water through my nose and tears streaming down my cheeks. Yeah, you are funny, witty and sarcastic (wouldn't you agree that is a family trait?) and, yes, sometimes I've hoped that I wasn't at the receiving end of your remarks. Then again, one has to wonder where do you get your sharp tongue and quick wit, eh?

Fondly I remember those nights when you were a toddler and we whispered to each other before we went to sleep "We are going to be best friends forever, right?" "Right! Best friends forever." Daddy was forever in school studying, working on projects, completing assignments. It gave us lots of girls' time, didn't it? My favorite sound at the end of a work/school day or night was to come home and before I opened the back door, I would hear your footsteps, tap tap tap, rushing towards me. You've been sitting at the kitchen window waiting for me to come home. Your grandmother would tell me about your day and you clinging in my arms allowing me to give you many, many kisses. Now we do only air kisses...

The first clue I knew that you are going to be the one who follows a different drum beat is when you tied Pocahontas (remember her?) upside down on the bathroom door knob. You were about three years old and were fascinated with ropes. So instead of dressing your doll and be a “mommy” to it, you tied her up with ropes and made a maze with the ropes around the area. One year we took you to the State Fair and, instead of asking for stuffed animals, you wanted the toy set of handcuff and guns. But you have the most sensitive spirit, so tender and fragile at times. Many things you kept to yourself, many struggles you took to your heart. Your parents were clueless at times or too busy going about their business - this competent living business. And you know what, it's too late to apologize for that, isn't it?

I was amazed how you were able to recognize the stores and places we went if the store has a big sign; and you were not quite 3 years old. At the same age, you could pick out the right books by the writing on the spin of the book. You read by yourself when you were five years old. At 6th grade, your teacher, Ms. Rose, was certain that you're destined to be a great writer. Telling you this is to remind you that you do have certain talents. How you wish to use it is your discretion; but do not say that you are not blessed. Do not deny that you are special in the eyes of your parents, your family and some people who've known you since day one - before you even have solid flesh and bones - you know it.

I said that I wouldn't give you any advice, though I need to share this thought with you - as a friend to a friend. Honesty makes one vulnerable. There are going to be times that you simply cannot be honest – please be kind. Being kind is not a weakness as most perceived. It doesn’t take less courage to be kind than to be honest; the action you take will heavily depend on the situation you are in. If, one day, you figure out how to be honest and kind at the same time, make sure you share your discovery with your mother, ok?

Enough of this old woman talking, let's hear it from some old men, shall we?

"Enjoy the Spring of Love and Youth, to some good angel leave the rest; For Time will teach thee soon the truth, there are no birds in last year's nets!" Henry Wadsworth Longfellow(1807-1882) U.S. poet.

"Youth, large, lusty, loving -- Youth, full of grace, force, fascination. Do you know that Old Age may come after you with equal grace, force, fascination?" Walt Whitman (1819-1892) American poet.

Love you always and forever,

Mommy

The best mother's day gift?

Repeatedly I told Mr. D and the children that I do not wish to receive any present for Mother's day. For one thing, people really shouldn't be rewarded if they have not done their job well (it does not mean, Mr. D, that you should be nodding your head right now!); secondly, (and quietly,) I much prefer to do the shopping myself. A couple of weekends ago, I've done some successful retail therapy in Portland; I am good for a while. ~g~

Being in third grade, Ethan was obliged to make me something for mother's day. He presented this booklet of things that he thought his mother is. For example: This is where he needed to fill in the blank - "My mom makes the best food. She spoils me when she makes this dish." His answer? "Eggs." (After fixing meals for these bratty children for several years, my cooking skill is just now called into question? Too late, Suckers!) Next, "My mother is extremely good at _____" He put in "Wii" (Don't nobody ever tell me that I ain't spending anytime with my chillen'.) "If my mom were a food, she would be this food." Ethan wrote "bread" (Is that has anything to do with my fluffiness?") Oh, this one makes me wonder and shiver: "If my mom were an animal, she would be this animal." Wait for it, wait for it... "Snake." Snake! Snake?? I asked the boy, whose future is not looking very bright, why would he connect his mother with snake. He shrugged and answered without fear or trepidation "I dunno."

The picture with this post? Where I was smiling really, really big? I can't tell you how happy I was that we finally finished the Mother's Day brunch and that all my children are still alive - especially the one with wavy long hair and who had his eyes closed. The entire meal or ordeal consisted of him screamed; thrown food; made his own cocktail with ice, peas, R2D2 and Thomas, the Engine; picked sausage links from my plate; took over his dad's soft drink; and when he was ready, he promptly climbed off the chair and yelled "Done!" Now you understand why I had this big grin - isn't it amazing that he actually survived? (Or should it be the other way around?)

But I was given the best mother's day gift this year (Probably should be honest and said that I "demanded" it, therefore, they must agree to give it): Peace and quiet for an afternoon - just me, my laptop and the movie "The Fighter" (Quite appropriate, don't ya think?) - I could still hear all the commotions in the living room but I did not have to acknowledge it. There is a method to the ostrich's madness. Just to illustrate, again, how glad I am with these children of mine, here is another picture. Here is to a Happy Mother's Day 2011!

Gushing

There are moments, when you least expected, being a mother can be such a joyful, wonderful thing. Henry and mommy have had this conversation for a while and it goes like this:

Mommy: "Hey, Henry!"

Henry: "What?"

Mommy:"Guess what?"

Henry: "What?"

Mommy: "I love you!"

Henry, parroted mommy, "I yua u."

We go on and on like this all the time. A couple times he would be quick and said "I yua u" at the same time when I said mine.

But this morning...

When I dropped him off at Wendy's, I said "Bye, Henry." And Henry, in his typical way of talking slowly " Bye... Mommy... I yua u." Mommy was elated! He said "I yua u" without being prompted, without being asked, without being reminded. He said it totally on his own!!

Oh, happiness can come from such a tiny, sweet person and it lasted all day long and beyond!

War and Words

I love watching Henry putting on a fight between "froggy" and "by (spider)." He sat in the bathtub full of bubbles; and grasped the two tiny plastic creatures with his chubby fingers. Passionately he dropped the froggy into the water with the shout of "FROGGY JUMP!" and the spider followed with a big splash. I watched and cheered with uncertainty because, even as good as I am being this two-year-old's interpreter, I couldn't figure out which one I should be cheering for - froggy or the spider? By his facial expression of knotted brows and pouting lips, he was mumbling to himself and I was lost but oh-so-enchanted.

He didn't seem to care which side was winning the battle. Once the spider was thrown out of the tub and he immediately called for back-up "Mommy, by! by!" I picked it up, handed it to him and he promptly dropped into the tub while froggy was in his palm the whole time. It was a bit confusing but military strategies and the art of war have never been of interest to me. I submitted myself to the two-year-old's wisdom in the warfare and he seemed to be very confident about what he was doing.

By the end of the battle, I was soaked. Because in the final violent act of the fight, and to make sure its epic proportion was noticed, he stood on the edge of the tub, jumped in the water, clenched froggy and "by" in both hands and yelled "WHOA!" After handing him to his dad who waited with a towel and a smile, I was left to clean up the aftermath of the battle between froggy and "by". That's what mothers are for, isn't it, to clean up the mess.

P.S. This was written in January of this year. I am happy to report that Henry's vocabury and phrases have expanded to include "Aw wight (all right.)" "Aw, nuts!" (This one baffled both Wendy and me.) "No, thank you." (It is getting very annoying when you ask him to take a bath, he says "no, thank you."; ask him to eat his fruit, he says "no, thank you."; ask him to let you change his diaper, he says "no thank you."... You get the gist. It makes almost impossible to be upset with him when he so politely refuses to do what he is asked.) "Ethan, go to bed!" "Stop it!" (He is a very smart and quick parrot.); put him in a time-out, he says " No, mommy! What you doing?", as if I am the one should be in time-out. He sees no reason for him to be put in a time-out when he purposely dumped the juice on the floor. ("Well, someone has to verify Newton's theory." his eyes so clearly told me so.)

Here is Henry in time-out.

P.P.S Henry's conversation skill has been improved from short answers of "yes" or "no" to "more cookies, pees (please)" or "More malk (milk)" or "Ethan paay (play) ball." or "Go bye bye! Go bye bye!!" My favorite, though, is when he says "thank you, mommy."

Henry the snow maker and Larry the cable guy

Caution: the following story may contain disgusting details of children raising. If you are thinking about producing children of your own, consider yourself warned.

I will first admit that I have no chance of winning "Mother of the Year" at all - unless you give it to me in a sarcastic, meant-to-sting-me kind of attitude - then I will accept it happily. It's better than a kick in the you-know-where which was probably what I deserved after this particular incident.

It's all the Internet's fault: I would not have be tempted to see anything on a computer if it weren't for the Internet. Ethan and I sat in front of the iMac with its beautiful large screen and vivid color; we were mesmerized by Larry the cable guy. Every "git-r-done", "that ain't right" and "I tell ya what!" elicited roaring laughter from us. Amidst of the giggling, laughing and wheezing, I got a whiff of the smell - very much like the laundry detergent I use - but how could it be? I turned around and saw that under the dinning table the rug was covered in white powder like substance. Could it be? And the next thought was WHERE IS HENRY? I stood up from the chair, following the trail of white powder through kitchen, living room and found the 2 1/2 feet tall juvenile delinquent standing in the middle of the laundry room with the white powder all around him. This tiny criminal looked up and exclaimed excitedly "Mommy, th-no!"

A couple of days ago, Henry experienced snow first hand. He ran out to the yard following his big brother and laid down on the snow covered ground as if it's a bed made with the purest cloud. So I could relate to his excitement of finding the similar white matter and confused it with the snow he saw. But how am I gonna clean this mess up? My silence must alarmed the tiny tyke. As if wanting to make sure that I understand his discovery, he proceeded to scoop up more detergent from the bucket. There is a limit to the power of his cuteness; and more so, to my ability to clean up messes. After yelping "no, Henry!" I picked him up and took him directly to the tub. Ethan was forced to stop laughing and made to take a bath with his little brother while mommy figured out how to get rid of Henry's snow on the wooden floor and the carpet.

I couldn't use the vacuum because we have a Rainbow which was Mr. D's birthday, father's day and maybe valentine's day gift one year. The Rainbow vacuum is used with a water reservoir. Even with my pea brain, I know I shouldn't use it to suck up the soap... Can you just imagine how delighted Henry will be? Not only he found the snow inside the house, his mom can make bubbles out of them! I managed to sweep up as much as the white stuff and tried to decide if I was mad or if I wanted to laugh some more. Barely finished up the kitchen and living room, I heard the yell "DONE!" from the bathroom. Quickly getting the boys dressed in their PJs, I sent them to bed and rest my head on my pillow...just to relax...

Then the sound of "WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?" jolted me from, um, my rest. Before I could get out of the bed, Mr. D walked in to the bedroom and said "Did you see what happen in the laundry room?" My first reaction was "DUH?"; but I've known better, "Yep, Henry's found the snow. And it wasn't just in the laundry room. Henry spread it in the dinning room, kitchen and the living room. But no worries. I cleaned up most of them." Mr. D looked at me incredulously, "And what were you doing when he was making the snow?" "Um, I was watching Larry the cable guy?"