Choked Up

I didn't cry on Gotcha Day. Lots of parents- and even more kids do, but I wasn't moved to tears. The first time I cried was four days later when I visited Yang Xi SWI (Tenley's orphanage) and I saw her crib. I knew about the harsh realities of Chinese orphanage life- and technically YX is shiny, new & state of the art- but seeing the cage that Tenley had lived in for 9 months brought me to tears. No mattress, no blankets, no bumper, no mobile- just a wood board and bars.

She lives in the lap of luxury now: a full size bed with a fluffy pillow and Disney Princess sheets keeping she and her bazillion stuffed animals cozy every night. She's seen these pictures, but she doesn't remember this place. She's still bears it's mark though: sleeping on the board left a large flat spot on the back of her head that has made her ears uneven- one is higher and one is further forward. You will never see me put a headband on her, and God help her if she needs to wear glasses.

This is all almost 3 years in the past, and I don't generally spend my days thinking about it. But today I cried about it again- but this time it was tears of joy and gratitude.

http://www.oneyearonearth.com/orphanage

http://www.oneyearonearth.com/category/china

This website belongs to Shana and Derek who are traveling all over the world on their honeymoon. One of their destinations was China, and one of the things they did was volunteer at - of all places- Yang Xi. They too found the cribs heartwrenching, and in December they created a small miracle for those girls. Click on the links, and enjoy their adventure.

I am so grateful to these people I have never met for their kindness and generosity. If they or any of their friends of family who donated read this: THANK YOU. It makes a difference- a huge difference. Even to me- 3 years and thousands of miles away.

I will never forget the sight of Tenley's nursury- and Shana and Derek's pictures transported me right back to that day. And the December pictures have given me peace made me smile - 120 little lives changed. Proof positive that it is amazing what good can come from generosity and an open heart.

Tenley Plays in the Mud

A Question for the BTDT parents...

Here's the Tiny Empress snacking away on her Valentine's Day lunch at Pre-school. Which is what I need some help with (pre-school, not lunch) from those of you out there who have done this, or are doing it now.

The time has come for us to pre-register for pre-school next year which has left Jeff & I with something of a dilemma: 5 half-days or 3 full days?? Currently, Ten goes 3 half-days...but next year we start gearing up for Kindergarten...so which will do her (and me) more good?

Factors to consider:

Cost The difference in cost between 3 full & 5 half is only $10 so cost is not really a consideration - except that it obviously costs more per hour for a half day than a full.

Academics According to her teacher, academically 5 half is better, because there is only 1 session (everyone starts in the morning, no one starts in the afternoon) the academics are all in the morning- after nap it's more art, story time, and play- not that there isn't educational value in that too.

Stamina Public school Kindergarten is usually a half-day. Private school Kindergarten is usually a full day. If she stays at this school for Kindergarten, she has the option of 5 days at 5.5 hours or 10 hours. Will she build enough stamina and gain enough focus from 3 full days to transition into 5 days of harder work?

Time The full day option is really meant for parents who hold a full-time job- it provides roughly 12 hours of child-care. We'd never use the 12 hrs. The earliest I'd take her is 8, and I'd probably pick her up by 4 (unless I was working). We can extend her 1/2 day...for $6 an hour...but that adds up very quickly- for an extra 3 hours daily you'd end up paying more than if you put her in full time!

Mom If I get Ten to school on time and I pick her up right at time I net about 3 hours of personal time per school day. This is enough time to maybe do some errands or housework or go to the gym or sneak in a nap if I'm sick or breakfast with a friend/get facial/shop for self. I can't go far, and I can't work. 5 half days would allow me to spread the necessary things out so I could work in a little more me time- but I still couldn't go anywhere far or work....and I still have Ten at home every afternoon. 3 full days would let me hold either a 2nd part-time job, work lunch shifts at El Torito or do office temp work...but I still have 2 full days at home with Ten.

This is a tough decision. I see merit for both options, and both will force Ten to adapt to a different schedule and learn to be independent. Both benefit me too- just in different ways. Any comments or advice from those who have done it or are doing this now will be a huge help!!

Welcome Year of the Rat

February 7, 2008 brought Chinese year 4706 – the Year of the Rat. At last, it’s my year: I am the lone Rat surrounded by Monkeys (Mom, Jeff, Ten, Grandpa Dave- all Monkey People).

We started reading “My First Chinese New Year” by Karen Katz and we kept with Chinese tradition by attempting to clean the house, buying Ten new (Chinese) clothes and shoes, and getting her (and Jeff’s) hair cut.

Thursday night we went to PF Chang’s for some very Americanized Chinese Food, and quietly noted a couple other families that looked alot like ours were there celebrating too.

This year marked what will probably be the first of many for me: bringing Chinese New Year to Tenley’s class at school. Ten’s pre-school is non-denominational, and they encourage parents to come in and teach the kids about any holiday or family tradition that is relevant to their family. So I showed up on Friday morning with mandarin oranges and crunchy noodles for snack, the afore mentioned book to read to the class, and the supplies to have the kids make Chinese lanterns. It all went over very well, and the kid’s lanterns are now decorating the classroom. I would like to give a huge thank you to Pick Up Stix # 505: I asked if they would be willing to donate crunchy noodles and fortune cookies for the class- and they did- along with chopsticks (and the little plastic holders so kids can use them), balloons and stickers all arranged into individual take-out boxes as goody bags for all 25 kids. I am still blown away by how thoughtful and generous it was to do that.

On Saturday, we headed into Los Angeles Chinatown for the Golden Dragon Parade. This year we were smart: we parked at Union Station in Downtown and took a 3min ride on the Gold Line right into Chinatown – way better than trying to find street parking or parking at Dodger Stadium like we did last year. The Grand Marshal was a big hit this year- who better in the Mouse year than Mickey himself? The Beijing Olympic mascots were there, and in all Ten counted 6 dragons and she still says “5 lions” but I think it was more like 15 lions. Miss Chinatown and various other Asian beauty queens waved and winked at her, and various older Chinese parade goers stopped to ask which province she was from and were impressed that she could say “Happy New Year” in Chinese. Tenley herself was very into the confetti cannons, and kept picking the bits up off the ground and stuffing them into her dad’s pockets. But being a busy 3 year old, she was really done with the parade by the time it was half over. We shopped our way back to the Gold Line, with Tenley scoring a green fan that matched her dress.

Everyone was starving, and it was noted that we would pass right by La Tolteca on the drive home. And La Tolteca is just a few minutes from Doug, Tina & (future husband) James’ house. One quick cell call and the next thing you know we were on their doorstep and then heading out for ultra yummy Mexican food. After sating ourselves, we went back over to their house so James & Ten could run amok, the big kids could play with the Wii, and everybody could finish off the Baskin Robbins ice cream cake from James’ birthday. A fine multi-cultural celebration if there ever was one.

Gung Hay Fat Choy!!!

About that...

Don’t those puddle jumping pictures look fun?? Here’s the part you didn’t see:

Ten was outside in the rain jumping in the puddles (with Daddy snapping pictures) because we were on our way to Costco. I was put on my jacket and tossed poor Kismet the dog out into the inclement weather because as my friend Kim would say “she’s not trustworthy” to be left in the house. I might have felt bad about this except that just the day before, Jeff’s co-worker Alisa had gifted us with a Kismet sized doghouse that her family no longer needed (thanks Alisa!). Now, did we take the time on sunny Saturday to move the behemoth to a good spot & introduce Kis to it? No way! First I tried just turning it around for her, but the dumb dog was unwilling to walk through the big drips from the eaves to even come near it. So now I am standing in the mud in the steady rain trying to move this thing. Finally I hollered over the gate for Jeff who came over and grabbed a side; and we sloshed and shuffled the thing under the gazebo in the back. Kismet, being a large ferocious looking chicken, ran the far corner of the yard and laid down in the mud. Jeff got a towel for the floor of the doghouse and some treats. I called the dog, who just laid there in the rain and looked at me. I sighed and left the cover of the gazebo to get the big chicken and drag her to the covered house. Drag is the operative word- she has one of those butts that becomes filled with lead, the nose goes up and the legs go stiff. She went so far as to stand on her hind legs and wrap her filthy disgusting paws around my wrist, thereby simultaneously covering my wrist and forearm in mud and soaking it. I successfully got her to the house which she eyed warily, gave a cursory sniff, and then retreated to the center of the yard to lay in the rain and shiver. At that point, we gave up and decided that if she was dumb enough to pass on a warm dry spot, it was out of our hands.

I am now damp all over, muddy in various spots, and my hair- like a 1970’s Pampers diaper- has puffed up to twice it’s normal size. Tenley was mercifully not muddy- but was completely soaked and had somehow managed to get two inches of water in each rain boot.

We trooped back in the house to pony my hair, change my jacket, and completely change Tenley from the waist down. Except that Tenley climbed right into my lap to take her boots off. Now the entire thigh area of my heavy jeans are soaked. So I finish stripping Ten, and take her pants to the dryer while Jeff re-dresses her. I realize as I am walking that my pants are too wet to wear, so I carefully remove them and throw them in the dryer too. I spent the next 10 minutes shivering next to the dryer in nothing but my underwear…and hiking boots.

Finally, Ten was warm and dry, and I was damp but presentable, and we left for Costco…not looking forward to returning home and having to clean up the stupid dog who was still laying in the mud and rain.

Rainy Sunday

Nothing better than rain boots and puddles!

Working Conditions

Last Friday, Jeff’s parents took mercy on us and took Ten for the long MLK weekend. I met Jeff’s mom on the other side of the grapevine for the hand off, and despite the fact that it then took me 4 hours to get home, I felt it was worth it for 2 days of peace & quiet.

My long drive home gave me time to reflect on my employer. No, not El Torito…the other one. Here are the harsh truths:

The hours tend to suck. I work a 15 hour day on average. My day starts somewhere between 7:30 and 8 and usually doesn’t end until 10-10:30. Sometimes there’s overtime. Days have been known to start as early as 5 and go as late as midnight. Occasionally you do shift work- you think the day ended at 10, but due to an unforeseen monster/lost lovey/hallucination that a train is about to drive through the office you discover that you have a shift at 2, 3 or 4. Or all of them. However, my employer still currently embraces the idea of siesta, so you do get a 2 hr-ish break in the middle that it is wise to take advantage of.

My employer does not give sick days. It’s worse than when I worked for places like Pac Bell & Disneyland where you were only allowed to have X number of occurrences totaling X number of days. Keeping up with the Boss when you have a cold or the flu is a killer- and forget about taking any medicine that might make you sleepy or groggy. If I’m really bad, I’ll call in a contractor like Grandma Suzie or Aunty Kim to see if they can work a couple of my hours.

My employer does not give days off. Not if she can help it. This is a seven day a week operation, and all staff members must be accounted for at all times. Occasionally we can arrange little meetings with the contractors, like last weekend, but otherwise there is no rest for the weary. Even then, the Boss prefers to have her staff with her. The best you can usually do for yourself are the days with the 3.75 hours when she meets with the other little upper management types and their educational consultant to create office décor, learn annoying little songs, feast on cheese & crackers and try to establish some reasonable language and social skills.

The Boss has uniform issues. Most companies pick a uniform or dress code & stick with it. They may update the uniform, or go to casual Fridays, but it’s usually pretty much the same. At this point, the Boss could care less what the staff wears. We could wander around in fishnet body stockings and pith helmets and that would be fine (as long as she got a pith helmet too). The Boss, however, is like a bad community theatre production of “Gigi” and insists on changing her outfit several times a day. Jeans are currently a requirement for leaving the house. But then the whole outfit comes off so she can put on her ballet clothes and do Bella Dancerella. Then it’s time to run around in underwear. Then the jeans are back on…but with a new shirt. Suddenly, boots are required. Then it’s naptime, but pajamas must be worn. After nap, the jeans are back…with a new shirt. That gets shed so the hula skirt can be donned while she watches Lilo & Stitch. And on and on. Any attempt by the staff to cramp the Boss’s style, like insisting that a sundress & bare feet can not be worn outside in 40 degree weather results in a lot of screaming, crying, and running away.

The lunch hour is non-existent. In a very trend forward and health conscious manner, the Boss wholeheartedly embraces the idea of several small meals a day. Actually, what the Boss wants is a continuous smorgasbord of snacks- preferably marshmallows, cheetos, cookies, crackers, suckers, popcorn, pudding, peanuts, mandarin oranges, yogurt, etc. An actual meal can be a challenge, and she’d like one of the first 5 snacks listed as an appetizer. And God forbid you eat something other than what she’s having, or eat at a different time: either way your meal will be hijacked and you will be required to “share” which roughly translates to “I’m going to eat your food and if you can get a bite in, well then that’s nice for you.”

The Boss is not a motivational speaker. “Because you have to!” “But I want it/to now!” “But I want (fill in the blank)!” “You have to give me sucker/candy/cookies because it’s yummy for me.” “NO!” …these are a few of her oft used phrases designed to motivate the staff to do her bidding. Obviously, they don’t seem to have that effect on us, which is when the Boss goes into Tyra Banks-Diva mode and begins pitching a fit. Lately, whenever the whine begins, I seem to be spontaneously unable to hear her: I explain that I see her mouth moving but I just can’t seem to hear anything. Often my hearing returns as soon as the whine leaves and the word “please” is employed.

The good thing about the job is that the pay can’t be beat. When you actually get paid it’s fantastic. These days, unfortunately, pay is sporadic and you tend to live off the little daily per diem of snuggles during story time and big hugs after pre-school. Occasionally there are surprise bonuses like climbing in your lap and snuggling until she falls asleep, getting told that you’re pretty, or even spontaneous “I love you”s (note: these are also given out when the Boss knows that she’s done something that is going to cause the staff to turn on her).

I keep hoping (although I am told it’s in vain) that as the Boss gets older she’ll become a bit more reasonable, learn some motivational speaking, and decide on some set hours; and that these little changes might lead to more pay on a more regular basis. Until then, I’ll just have to take what I can get, and roll with the punches. Because the truth is, that even if I could quit- I wouldn’t. Not for all the tea in China.

Uh-Oh, it's too Quiet!

When all of a sudden it is quiet around the house and there is no tell-tale signs of a terrorist three year old, you go looking for her and this is what you might find.


Also, when you take your daughter to work with you on an early Saturday morning and it is very quiet, you have to wonder what is she up to????

A Happy (?) New Year

Our “fun” outing the day after Christmas was to sit in gawd awful traffic on 3 freeways to arrive over an hour late to the pediatritian who informed us that Ten had received the unexpected and unpleasant gift of pneumonia. A weeks worth of serious antibiotics later and she’s doing fine.

I don’t know whether it’s been a side effect of the antibiotics, or Christmas letdown or what, but for the last week or so my child has been the biggest brat on the planet. We have seen temper tantrums like you expect to see out of early 2’s: kicking, thrashing, flailing, screaming, yelling, roaring, crying…all at the same time- and over God only knows what. Sometimes you know what the problem is: you have (selfishly) declined to put in a Dora / Backyardigans/ Elmo/ Barbie/Hello Kitty DVD, and declared that it’s Daddy’s turn to watch something on TV since you’ve just been subjected to 3 hours of continuous episodes of Little Bear and are now in a diabetic coma. (Like most 3 year olds, Tenley only believes in sharing when it benefits her) Sometimes you have no idea what has set her off. The war in Iraq? We’re out of marshmallows? The Earth’s axis is off by .000000001 degree?? What ever it is, you’ll never know because she’s so busy screaming that she can’t tell you what the problem is- you just put her in time out and listen to her thrash around for an hour or so (no, I’m not kidding). We have no idea what to do with her.

It was one of these tantrums that awakened me from my pre-work nap on the 29th. I was blissfully dozing, but knew that Ten & Jeff had come home because I heard the screaming before they hit the front porch. Jeff took her to The Pod and tried valiantly to shush her and calm her down. I was using my phone as an alarm clock so I texted him to find out what the issue was. He had no clue. So he brought her back to see me. No, lack of my presence wasn’t the issue either. But I offered to try to cuddle her & calm her down. Bad idea. As Jeff bent over the bed to hand her thrashing form to me, she threw her head back and screamed…and connected with my nose. There was a sickening crunch, I screamed, and then the blood started. Poor Jeff, he wasn’t sure what to do first: deal with the crying & now profusely bleeding wife or the hysterical child. I restrained Ten and sent him for ice.

The long and short of it? She broke my nose. As a broken nose goes, it’s not too bad. She connected low enough that although the nose is swollen & purple, I escaped getting the raccoon eyes.

So 2007 has officially ended with a broken nose, a healed heel, a cranky kid who is now wearing big girl panties full time, an unregistered car, and a stinky dog.

Bring on the 8.

The Holiday Recap

Well, the holidays are finally over, and I can’t say that I’m sorry to see the back of them. Some years, Halloween gets you in the Fall feeling, and then it’s Thanksgiving and you’re enjoying seeing friends and family; the days are long and stretch before you with time to shop, wrap, bake and generally just enjoy the holiday. But then there’s years like this one where (despite the fact that it got cold) it never really felt like Fall, Thanksgiving came and went- but it still felt like early November even though Christmas was days away, and there was no time (or money) to do much of anything.

It was during an late Nov. trip to Disneyland that Jeff started complaining that his left heel hurt. “Hmmm…maybe plantar facisitis” we all said. But no. “Ahhh, a cracked heel bone!” the doctor said. So Jeff spent the rest of the year hobbling along on his cane, which Tenley ran off with at every available opportunity.

We missed Hannukah at Scott & Gaynor’s (again!) this year because Ten & Jeff decided to get the stomache flu the day of the party. ::: sigh::: No latkes again.

Tenley did go to see Santa, and at 3 years old we finally got our first non screaming/crying/trying to get away picture. She informed the attending elf that she had a “short list” and indeed asked the big guy for only 2 things: a rocking horse and a Cinderella dress. I informed Santa that I had him hooked up.

I had no free time during the holidays because I was being one of Santa’s elves and working on the above mentioned “rocking horse”. I had aquired a 1993 Hedstrom spring horse (which I know I am at least the 3rd owner of) and it needed a little TLC, so I spent 8 weeks completely restoring it.

Christmas Eve was fun because this is the first year Ten is really starting to “get” what’s going on (next year should be even better). Her favourite part of the experience is still the paper shredding. Paper is shredded and the tissue flys, and the gift emerges and she says “Ooooh look Mommy! It’s Baby Mulan!” as she tosses the box to the side and says “I want to open another present!” The only gift that caused her to pause at all was the Disney Princess Vanity that Grandpa Duke gave her… and the only 2 gifts that she stopped and wanted to play with immediately were the Cinderella dress from Cousin Kari & her kids, and the very cool mailbox from Grandma & Grandpa. The only thing not fun was that it was obvious that the “cold” we had been treating for 8 days was not getting better and was in fact, getting worse and going to require a trip to the doctor.

Christmas morning came and Ten was delighted to find that Santa had indeed left her a rocking horse whom she named “Molasses” after all the various equines in the Backyardagains. She spent the day happily playing with her toys…and running a fever…and vomiting (probably from all the junk she was eating). We decided not to go to my extended family’s Christmas gathering, but when we told her we weren’t going to go, she burst into tears. So we relented and traded an hour of laying on the couch watching her new “Barbie of Swan Lake” DVD for going to the party. We forbid anyone at the party from feeding her anything, and she did pretty well. She helped everyone open their gifts, and conned Aunty Meg into opening the Bella Dancerella she bought for her- so we got to see both of them playing with it. Aunty Lisa bought her her own digital camera- so be on the lookout for “photography by Tenley” very soon.

As usual, the Tiny Empress had quite a haul. The loot list included a bean bag, a Learn Through Music, clothes & shoes, books, 2 baby dolls, a board game, DVDs, a Barbie, accessories for the baby dolls (including hand made ones!), sheets for a big girl bed, and playdough...just to name some of it! I'm trying to casually weed out old toys so I can make room for new ones...which seem to be rather large.

But wait...there's more....