See no evil

Adrian and I have become "those people." We admit it. We announce ourselves to the world. We post it on our blog for all to read: we can't watch violent movies anymore.

Last week, Blood Diamond spent 20 minutes in the DVD before I banished it back to Netflix. Last night, we watched Apocolypto until the guy rips the baby from the mom's arms and swings it around by its ankle (to its demise)...we looked at each other in utter horror and hit the eject button. And, man, I really wanted to see that movie.

We ended up watching a Harry Potter movie. It was that or Shrek. Our psyches couldn't handle anything more serious. When you have a child in your life, things change.

Graduation

This is Kiyoshi Koga. When I was 15 years old, his mother (my mom's best friend) let me, my mom and my step-father share in his birth. It was the most amazing thing I had ever witnessed, especially at age 15!, until the birth of my own son. I was literally at the foot of the bed and watched as he entered the world.

Big sigh, he is now 17 years old and will graduate from high school this weekend. How did that happen? Not to be cliche, but as if it was yesterday, I see his crying face covered in goo, placed on his mom's belly as his dad cut the umbilical cord. Now he is off to college.

"Time may change you, but you can't change time," David Bowie.

What's for dinner?

Warning: Some of the following opinions may be controversial, but I am the Editor In Chief of this blog and I can say whatever I want.

Can you imagine being a citizen of a nation that doesn't care if you live or die? Or worse, in a nation whose government is actively, if not passively, trying to limit your life expectancy? In my opinion, that is modern-day China.

My step-father has lived in Hong Kong for more than 10 years. Not only do I enjoy hearing his tales of adventure and intrigue about living and working in Asia, I visited him for three weeks several years ago and was able to experience some of the culture myself. I happened to be there for the first Chicken Flu epidemic. Now, don't get me wrong, there are some awesome people and, in many ways, the culture is vibrant, interesting and inspiring. However, there are also aspects (probably evident in every culture/society, including ours) that I find disturbing.

For example, the Chinese government subsidizes cigarette sales for its citizens. Why would they do that? Why not just sell them for what they are worth (or, as our country does, put a heafty tax on them to discourage use)? Think about it and come to your own conclusion. Also, forget about any meaningful environmental protection (like, regulating industry to make sure chemicals and toxic pollutants aren't fouling the air and water). They may have "laws," but no one is enforcing them so long as the government gets its money and appropriate bribes to local Communist Party officals are rolling in.

There are many other examples and stories I could impart as evidence of the value they assign human, let alone animal, life. With more than a billion citizens and counting, what are a few (hundred-thousand) hazardous-waste-caused deaths? Eh, just the price of doing business as a communist/free-market capitalist nation without the bothersome hindrances of voting, free-speech and a system of checks and balances. Woohoo, the next Super Power. Look forward to it folks.

"Who cares?!", you might be thinking. "I live on the other side of the globe...they can do whatever they want to themselves over there." One only needs to read recent U.S. headlines about melamine-laced pet food and resulting deaths to understand why you should care, and care very, very strongly.

Read or listen to this article to bring the lesson forcefully home, literally. I especially like the part about rapid-drying tea leaves and contaminated fish imports....

Do you know what you're eating for dinner? Yeah, neither do I.

NPR : As Imports Increase, a Tense Dependence on China http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=10410111&sc=emaf

*Listen to this story*Please click on the headline to the story using a RealAudio or WindowsMedia player.For players or technical support, please visit NPR's Audio Help page. http://www.npr.org/help/index.html?showdiv=100

Max's first haircut

Before...

After!
With daddy...

Fun with toilet paper...

Investing in kids

Besides because it is the right thing to do, here is yet more logic behind why we should all care about investing in the health and education of America's children, regardless of who they were born to, where they live, what color their skin, how much money their parents have, or by what name they call God.

http://www.marketplace.org/shows/2007/05/24/PM200705245.html

Desperate housewives

Steph and I are going out for some no-husbands, no-kids time. At 11 a.m., our tune was upbeat and wild ("Oh yeah, we're soooo going to party! Yeah! Dancing! Drinks! Mayhem!). Now, at 5 p.m., after a full day of kid chasing and husband managing, the tune is more mellow ("Maybe a margarita and some cheese sticks?").

El noche

Some of the most tender moments I share with my son are in the middle of the night.

Usually (and thankfully), Max is a great sleeper and makes it through the night on his own. Occassionally, he will wake up but soothe himself back to sleep after several minutes. Rarely, as was the case last night, he will wake up and need parental intervention to go back to sleep. Whatever was going on in his little head, all he wanted was to be held and rocked for a while to make it all better. I obliged and, though it was 2 a.m., those were the most serene and affirming 20 minutes of our day.

One of the most blessed and inspiring lessons I have learned from motherhood is the joy and satisfaction that comes of bringing peace and comfort to another human being.

Jobzzzzzz

The matriarch of the Clare-Panton Family blog recently posted about the job from which she learned the most during her working life. Reading the post and thinking about my own life, the vivid tableaux that illuminated my mind were all the jobs that were totally ridiculous, not the ones I gained the most from professionally or intellectually. She suggested I post my thoughts about these lowly positions on my own blog instead of hers, thankyouverymuch. No riff-raff allowed on her blog, apparently. :-)

Like my very first job, at A&W Rootbeer in Louisville (sadly, it closed last year) when I was 14 years old, swaddled in skin-tight forest green doubleknit polyester. Within a month, I had flooded the dining room and nearly burned the place down...and I didn't get fired. I still have the faux driving cap thingy that was part of the uniform.

Or the waitressing gig at The Egg & I in Greeley during college, at which my shift began at 5 a.m., ended at 2 p.m. and I earned $2.13/hr. As I was a horrible waitress (who can remember eggs over-medium at 5 a.m.?), I didn't get many tips. In fact, I knew I wasn't cut out for waitresshood when people asking for things -- like a clean fork -- really pissed me off. This is the place where, one day, one of the cooks accidentally cut the finger off his rubber glove while making omelets and didn't notice for quite a while. By that time, there was no telling where that rubber finger had ended up. About an hour later, the police came by the restaurant because an old lady called them to report finding a "condom" in her eggs.

These are the jobs that stand out for me.

I'd love to read about your funniest jobzzz, so please post away!

Happy Mother's Day!

Open-mouth guppy kisses on my face. Dirt between his little toes. Sticky fingers. Wrassling him into a clean diaper and a change of clothes. Waving bye-bye. Together, watching the leafy shadows dance on the grass under the tree. Chubby baby boy legs. His "I'm so tired" sigh, even as he chases a ball down the hallway. Stroking and patting my face while nursing. Maammaaammaaa, daadaaadaaa. Love.

OPM

Other People's Music. "I know this is whyyyy, this is whyyyy, this is whyyyy...I know this is whyyy...." This is the rap song I'm enjoying while writing this in my second floor office with the window only cracked open. Not part of my music collection, rather it is courtesy of the teenager two houses down and across the street who is in his house with a window open. That is how loud it is. It's the same teenager who asked Santa for one of those really loud mufflers (seems like just taking the regular muffler off would achieve the same affect?) for his low-rider Honda Civic...and Santa -- who obviously didn't refer to his good kid/bad kid list -- got him one. He's been terrorizing the neighborhood with it ever since.

My only solace is knowing he'll be wearing hearing aids by the time he's 40.

Do I sound like an old lady? Oh well...next I will be yelling at neighborhood children for walking on my lawn. LOL!!

Back yard, etc.

Adrian has owned/lived in this house since it was built in 2001, and I since we were engaged. It has only been since last weekend that the back yard is finally completed.

Two summers ago, we had the trees planted, grass laid down, planters built, etc. Last year, I was very pregnant and then had a newborn, so did not lift a trowel or pull a weed all summer (and neither did Adrian). So, with the help of three teenagers, we made the final push and laid down weedmat in the flower beds, prepared the vegetable garden, planted shrubs and flowers, mowed/edged the grass, shoveled in 4 cubic yards of mulch, and pulled enough weeds and collected enough yard debris to fill up a dumpster. Needless to say, we were all exhausted.

In addition to the better-than-minimum wage the teens earned, they also ate the equivalent of two full meals in the space of six hours, plus pop, plus tea, plus bottled water, plus a few bags of chips. And, on the way home, Adrian bought them all ice cream. If they had stayed any longer, we might have had to BBQ the dog.

I'm growing lettuce, tomatoes, two kinds of peppers, squash and garlic in the garden.

Max still thinks grass is alive and dangerous. So if I sit him on a blanket in the middle of the lawn with some toys, he is essentially marooned. He will NOT move past the edge of the blanket....so that way I can get some planting/weeding done nearby and know he is more or less in one spot. Unfortunately, some day soon he will figure out that the emperor has no clothes, and then I'll have to get the play pen out. I hate the play pen (baby jail), but I admit it is the only way to keep them safe and get anything done that requires two hands.

In Grandma Mary's kitchen, with Cheerios.

Pearl St. Mall, springtime, with mommy.

Motivation

I've been teaching Max to use a straw for a couple of weeks now. He has mastered the sippy and regular cup (with help), but the straw has so far just been something to chew and play with. Last night, the family went on an evening car ride to Sonic for a treat. Adrian got a fruit slushy (Sprite, crushed ice and fruit) and gave Max a taste by sucking a bit into his straw, then taking it out of the cup and releasing the liquid into Max's mouth. It was the most wonderful thing he had ever tasted. As if the skies parted and a choir began singing Hallelujah!, Max grabbed the cup and began sucking on that straw as if his life depended on it. He drank until he had to come up for air. It was the funniest thing I've ever seen. Good part: Max knows how to use a straw. Bad part: Max has a powerful desire for fruit slushy.