It's hard to believe April is almost over. What a month! Gwen turned seven, we had visits with both sets of grandparents, Xavier had a trip to the ER for croup, and Gwen did the diabetes walk (she collected $149 for the cause -- thanks to everyone who contributed!) If Gwen still owes you a thank-you note for a birthday gift or donation to the diabetes walk, we're still working on those. Since she is writing them all herself, it is taking her awhile.
When Gwen got home from school today, she seemed a little subdued, but I was able to cheer her up in a hurry by showing the "Scary Book" magazine (known to some as the American Girl doll catalog, or to Xav, the "Clone" catalog.) The gist of this product is that you can buy a doll (for $90) that looks vaguely like you (or like you if you were mass-produced, as they are) and then you can buy really expensive matching clothes sets so you and the mass-produced version of you (or, as Xav puts it, your clone) can look alike. If the concept alone does not scare you, the prices will -- these doll outfits cost more than clothes I buy Gwen at Target.
Xav, of course, is just disappointed that they don't make "clones" for boys.
Anyway, this catalog cheered her considerably until dinner, when, left with the boring prospect of eating, her thoughts were able to turn back to the events of the day. Suddenly she announced, "Jack is moving."
Now, if you don't remember Jack, go back and read the post from Halloween 2007. Jack and Gwen have been "dating" since kindergarten (well, insomuch as you can be "dating" someone you never see outside of school.) We've tried to set up playdates, but something (usually his parents) has kept them from happening. I'm not sure what the attraction was -- they have vastly different interests, she is Teacher's Pet while he's the one who gets sent to the principal's office every day ... yet they always describe each other as girlfriend and boyfriend. I guess opposites attract.
Back to the story -- this was big news. "Moving? Where is he moving to?"
"West Virginia. He says his dad doesn't like the municipal pool, so they are going to move to where they can have their own pool and hot tub," Gwen replied.
"Um, I don't think that's why they are moving. Probably Jack's parents got new jobs, and that is why they are moving," Adam suggested.
Gwen gave him a withering look that clearly showed him what she thought of that theory (a foretaste of the future no doubt), and said, "Well, that's not what he said. He said that his dad didn't like the municipal pool." (Please notice the italics on "Well," "not," and "said" above. They are very important.)
Anyway, Adam took Xavier up to brush his teeth while Gwen finished her supper, but now that she only had food to distract, it took her about five seconds to dissolve into tears. Since I sympathy cough with Xav and sympathy cry with Gwen, about five seconds later I was blubbering, too. Adam came back in to wash the dishes, while I looked around desperately for something to distract Gwen and save us both.
"Where ... where did the Scary Book go?" I asked, looking around.
"What, the American Girl catalog? I put it in the recycling bin," Adam replied.
There are few times when I would go dumpster-diving for a catalog (or much of anything, really). But desperate times call for desperate measures.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Doh!
Yes, I foolishly included my email address in my last post -- now I have to close that account because as of 3:40 or so this morning, it became a spam sender as well as a recipient. There's nothing like opening your email account and seeing "You have 2207 new emails!" And they are still coming.
So, if you know me, you can either use my work email or call me and I will give you my new email (when I have it.) If you don't know me ... well, just don't make the same mistake I did!
So, if you know me, you can either use my work email or call me and I will give you my new email (when I have it.) If you don't know me ... well, just don't make the same mistake I did!
Saturday, April 05, 2008
April Flus
Actually, it was March, but the pun on April Fools was too hard to pass up.
Yes, just as our state transitioned from "Widespread Influenza Incidence" to "Regional Influenza Incidence" on the CDC Flu Map, Xavier succumbed. Since he has asthma, we had gone to great lengths to prevent this from happening, but Gwen snuck it in with a case so mild that it was misdiagnosed as allergies. The bestlaid plans of mice and men ...
We were lucky, though -- his fever subsided after three days, and he had no complications.
As coincidence would have it, his fever arrived on the same day as my best-friend-since-high-school's baby shower (which, of course, I was assisting with.) I took him to the doctor in the morning (the doctor refused to commit to anything -- I think he must be being sued or something -- but merely acknowledged that it MIGHT be the flu or it MIGHT be an ear infection or it MIGHT be alien possession), so I knew it was probably flu. Being the on-top-of-things kind of person I am, of course I had not bought my friend's baby gift, I had not bought the supplies the other hostesses had asked me to bring, and I had not bought prizes for the games I was running ... and then it occurred to me that I had not planned the games I was running either ...
Anyway, I managed to pull my part together in the nick of time. Evidently forgetfulness is something inherent to motherhood, because when my friend arrived for her shower, she asked, "How are the kids?"
"Xav has the flu."
"Oh, that's too bad."
Then, when the party was over, she asked, "Will you guys be around tomorrow? I was thinking of stopping by ..."
"You can't," I reminded her. "Xavier has the flu."
Yep, becoming a parent destroys your brain.
I took the kids to the annual International Festival at the local university today. I was hopeful that there would be a Korean exhibit this year; this is actually the first time since Xavier arrived that no one was sick for the festivities, but there was no Korean Exhibit at the International Festival before he arrived.
Anyway, I should have been clued in that we would have problems when the kids were getting dressed. We suggested Xavier wear his Hanbok, but he refused point blank.
Gwen said, "I wish I had an International Outfit." As luck would have it, last time we went, she wore a Chinese outfit my (pregnant) friend Tania had bought her ... five years ago.
Well, as luck would have it, Xavier outgrew his Hanbok anyway. He suggested he could tear it apart to make Lego Star Wars sets, but we declined.
The festival was supposed to start at 11:00, but it occurred to me that I had a package to mail, and the UPS Store was right next to the chocolatier's, so I might as well get Adam a treat for finishing our taxes ... so we left the house early. The kids were so eager to go to the International Festival that THEY DID NOT WANT TO GO TO THE CANDY SHOP. Yes, this called into serious question their untraditional "not sick" status. But we went anyway.
Once we got to the fair, the kids wanted to look at all the exhibits; unfortunately, most seemed to be about serving food that you had to pay for and that the kids would not have eaten anyway. All the same, they raced along, collecting balloons, looking at pictures, watching some decidedly caucasian people doing a half-hearted middle-Eastern dance, and Xavier took it all in with enthusiasm. While he watched the dancers, I consulted the program and saw that not only was there a Korean exhibit, but also a Korean-American exhibit. How cool was that?
Well, we went to the Korean exhibit (after a short detour to the China exhibit to look at some pictures). Gwen continued her animated questioning and investigation of this exhibit as she had at the others, but, strangely, Xavier completely shut down. He hid behind my back, would not talk to the students running the exhibit, and would not select a souvinier. Gwen selected a fan for herself, I picked up a bag for Xavier and a book called "The Facts About Korea." The whole time, Xavier was behind my back, tugging on me to come on!
He would not even allow us to stop at the Korean American exhibit.
He did allow us to stop at the India exhibit (at Gwen's request), where he immediately picked up a key chain with the Taj Mahal on it and said, "This is what I want."
On our way back to the car, I asked, "Xav, what happened back there? Why weren't you interested in the Korean exhibit?"
"They didn't say I was handsome," he muttered in reply.
All the same, Gwen has already started reading "The Facts About Korea" (not a children's book, by the way), which Xavier has already proclaimed as "boring." It doesn't have pictures, though, so it might not have anything to do with the subject matter.
It's interesting to me sometimes how people try to reconcile Xavier and Gwen as siblings. Some people honestly do not realize he is adopted, and comment that he "takes after me." Others try to poke around the subject to get more information; adoptive parents, though advised to be upfront with their children about their origins, are discouraged from advertising the fact to others, so I usually don't volunteer that he is adopted unless directly asked ("Is your husband Asian?" "Is your son adopted?")
Today, though, I got a new reaction at a birthday party for one of my coworker's kids. The kids were playing a highly liberal version of limbo (if you get under the stick -- even if you wiggle under on your belly and bop the stick with your bottom -- you are still in) as the grandmother of the birthday girl and I held the stick. As blond, blue-eyed Gwen went under the stick, I remarked, "That's my daugher!"
"Oh," Birthday Girl's Grandma smiled. "What a pretty girl!"
A few kids later, Xavier went under. "And that's my son!"
"Oh!" she said, but not in a nice way -- her eyes narrowed, and she gave me the kind of look older women usually reserve for "ladies" of the variety that wear short skirts and work at night. Although she did not say it, it was clear that she was thinking, "Two kids of different races of similar ages with the same parent -- now, that just ain't right!"
As a 39-year-old, overweight computer geek, I'm not sure whether to be insulted or flattered.
In other news, Gwen's school is collecting money for the National Diabetes Society, and she is trying to round up donations. Gwen has been especially interested in this project because her great-aunt has diabetes. If you are interested in contributing, drop me an email (death@spammers.com) or comment to this post if you think I have your email address, and I will send you a link to her webpage. If you send me an email and I don't respond, it is because I get hundreds of spammails at this address every day, so don't please don't be offended. Thanks!
Yes, just as our state transitioned from "Widespread Influenza Incidence" to "Regional Influenza Incidence" on the CDC Flu Map, Xavier succumbed. Since he has asthma, we had gone to great lengths to prevent this from happening, but Gwen snuck it in with a case so mild that it was misdiagnosed as allergies. The bestlaid plans of mice and men ...
We were lucky, though -- his fever subsided after three days, and he had no complications.
As coincidence would have it, his fever arrived on the same day as my best-friend-since-high-school's baby shower (which, of course, I was assisting with.) I took him to the doctor in the morning (the doctor refused to commit to anything -- I think he must be being sued or something -- but merely acknowledged that it MIGHT be the flu or it MIGHT be an ear infection or it MIGHT be alien possession), so I knew it was probably flu. Being the on-top-of-things kind of person I am, of course I had not bought my friend's baby gift, I had not bought the supplies the other hostesses had asked me to bring, and I had not bought prizes for the games I was running ... and then it occurred to me that I had not planned the games I was running either ...
Anyway, I managed to pull my part together in the nick of time. Evidently forgetfulness is something inherent to motherhood, because when my friend arrived for her shower, she asked, "How are the kids?"
"Xav has the flu."
"Oh, that's too bad."
Then, when the party was over, she asked, "Will you guys be around tomorrow? I was thinking of stopping by ..."
"You can't," I reminded her. "Xavier has the flu."
Yep, becoming a parent destroys your brain.
I took the kids to the annual International Festival at the local university today. I was hopeful that there would be a Korean exhibit this year; this is actually the first time since Xavier arrived that no one was sick for the festivities, but there was no Korean Exhibit at the International Festival before he arrived.
Anyway, I should have been clued in that we would have problems when the kids were getting dressed. We suggested Xavier wear his Hanbok, but he refused point blank.
Gwen said, "I wish I had an International Outfit." As luck would have it, last time we went, she wore a Chinese outfit my (pregnant) friend Tania had bought her ... five years ago.
Well, as luck would have it, Xavier outgrew his Hanbok anyway. He suggested he could tear it apart to make Lego Star Wars sets, but we declined.
The festival was supposed to start at 11:00, but it occurred to me that I had a package to mail, and the UPS Store was right next to the chocolatier's, so I might as well get Adam a treat for finishing our taxes ... so we left the house early. The kids were so eager to go to the International Festival that THEY DID NOT WANT TO GO TO THE CANDY SHOP. Yes, this called into serious question their untraditional "not sick" status. But we went anyway.
Once we got to the fair, the kids wanted to look at all the exhibits; unfortunately, most seemed to be about serving food that you had to pay for and that the kids would not have eaten anyway. All the same, they raced along, collecting balloons, looking at pictures, watching some decidedly caucasian people doing a half-hearted middle-Eastern dance, and Xavier took it all in with enthusiasm. While he watched the dancers, I consulted the program and saw that not only was there a Korean exhibit, but also a Korean-American exhibit. How cool was that?
Well, we went to the Korean exhibit (after a short detour to the China exhibit to look at some pictures). Gwen continued her animated questioning and investigation of this exhibit as she had at the others, but, strangely, Xavier completely shut down. He hid behind my back, would not talk to the students running the exhibit, and would not select a souvinier. Gwen selected a fan for herself, I picked up a bag for Xavier and a book called "The Facts About Korea." The whole time, Xavier was behind my back, tugging on me to come on!
He would not even allow us to stop at the Korean American exhibit.
He did allow us to stop at the India exhibit (at Gwen's request), where he immediately picked up a key chain with the Taj Mahal on it and said, "This is what I want."
On our way back to the car, I asked, "Xav, what happened back there? Why weren't you interested in the Korean exhibit?"
"They didn't say I was handsome," he muttered in reply.
All the same, Gwen has already started reading "The Facts About Korea" (not a children's book, by the way), which Xavier has already proclaimed as "boring." It doesn't have pictures, though, so it might not have anything to do with the subject matter.
It's interesting to me sometimes how people try to reconcile Xavier and Gwen as siblings. Some people honestly do not realize he is adopted, and comment that he "takes after me." Others try to poke around the subject to get more information; adoptive parents, though advised to be upfront with their children about their origins, are discouraged from advertising the fact to others, so I usually don't volunteer that he is adopted unless directly asked ("Is your husband Asian?" "Is your son adopted?")
Today, though, I got a new reaction at a birthday party for one of my coworker's kids. The kids were playing a highly liberal version of limbo (if you get under the stick -- even if you wiggle under on your belly and bop the stick with your bottom -- you are still in) as the grandmother of the birthday girl and I held the stick. As blond, blue-eyed Gwen went under the stick, I remarked, "That's my daugher!"
"Oh," Birthday Girl's Grandma smiled. "What a pretty girl!"
A few kids later, Xavier went under. "And that's my son!"
"Oh!" she said, but not in a nice way -- her eyes narrowed, and she gave me the kind of look older women usually reserve for "ladies" of the variety that wear short skirts and work at night. Although she did not say it, it was clear that she was thinking, "Two kids of different races of similar ages with the same parent -- now, that just ain't right!"
As a 39-year-old, overweight computer geek, I'm not sure whether to be insulted or flattered.
In other news, Gwen's school is collecting money for the National Diabetes Society, and she is trying to round up donations. Gwen has been especially interested in this project because her great-aunt has diabetes. If you are interested in contributing, drop me an email (death@spammers.com) or comment to this post if you think I have your email address, and I will send you a link to her webpage. If you send me an email and I don't respond, it is because I get hundreds of spammails at this address every day, so don't please don't be offended. Thanks!
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