Fall is my favorite season. I love the crisp weather. I love to watch the leaves turn colors. I love to watch football. I love to sleep in a cool room covered in blankets. I love to bundle up in warm sweaters. I love almost everything about fall.
In anticipation of the cooler weather, I took a look at my fall wardrobe. I was doing pretty well, lots of sweaters, lots of long sleeved shirts. However, one area I was lacking in was jeans.
You see I've lost some weight since spring. Not enough to fit into my old skinny jeans but enough that some of my fat jeans don't fit so well. Jeans are my basic wardrobe in cool weather. I wear them every day and I can't get by with just one pair that fits. So I had to get another pair.
Normally, having to go shopping would send me into fits of joy. I love to shop. I love to buy new clothes. But I hate buying jeans. I hate it almost as much as I hate buying a swiming suit, which I hate a lot.
So I went to the mall. In each store I'd grab several pairs of jeans of different styles and washes. And unfortunately different sizes as I am currently between sizes. Then its off to the dressing room where the unplesantness begins.
Dressing rooms are evil places. The lighting and the mirrors are all designed to make you look bad, awful, horrible. And then you have to take off your clothes. Yuck.
So I kick off my old comfortable pair of jeans and struggle into the first one on the pile. Of course they don't fit. Sigh. One down, many more to go.
When you finally find a pair that "fits", you have to engage in some dressing room aerobics to see if they truly fit. You bend, you stretch, you kick. Richard Simmons would be proud.
If the jeans pass the Sweatin' To the Oldies test, there is one more important test to pass. How do they make your arse look? So you stand in the dressing room and shake your arse like you were in a George Michael video. You look from behind. You look from the side. You gotta have faith.
If you are truly lucky you can find a pair that actually makes your arse look good (or at least doesn't make it look bad). So you run, no sprint, out of the dressing room with these jeans and plunk down your credit card. All is right with the world, until you take them home and wash them. And then it begins again.
Monday, September 8, 2008
Ni hao li shu
Shen Lao Shi said "Ni hao."*
Li shu said "Ni hao lao shi."*
Does she remember? Do the tones evoke memories of the nannies, of her foster family, of her first mother?
Was she too young to remember? Or has she become too American over the past two years that she cannot remember China?
These were the questions running through my mind as we walked into the Cricket Academy. Bunny was there to start Mandarin classes along with nine other two year olds.
Seven of the nine, plus nine more from another class, were girls just like her who were born in China and had come to live with their forever families 7,000 miles away in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.
These girls are all so different. Some are shy, some are outgoing. Some are short, some are tall. They are from different regions all across China.
But they are also the same. They share a common bond. They will all know what it is like to grow up half way around the world from where you were born. They will all know what it is like to not look like your parents. They will all know what it is like to live in a culture so different from that of your birth. They will all have questions. They will all face obstacles and difficulties.
But they will be sisters. Their shared experiences will bond them. They can turn to eachother. And that in some small way will help them through.
Bunny is lucky. One of her new sisters is from her same orphanage. They share the same early history. They were cared for by the same caregivers. They had the same experiences. They are sisters.
This is one of the greatest gifts that I can give my daughter. To let her know her sisters. To learn the language and the culture of her birth country. To let her know that she is part of our family but also is a family with her sisters. She is not alone.
*Teacher Shen said "Hello".
Bunny said "Hello teacher."
Li shu said "Ni hao lao shi."*
Does she remember? Do the tones evoke memories of the nannies, of her foster family, of her first mother?
Was she too young to remember? Or has she become too American over the past two years that she cannot remember China?
These were the questions running through my mind as we walked into the Cricket Academy. Bunny was there to start Mandarin classes along with nine other two year olds.
Seven of the nine, plus nine more from another class, were girls just like her who were born in China and had come to live with their forever families 7,000 miles away in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.
These girls are all so different. Some are shy, some are outgoing. Some are short, some are tall. They are from different regions all across China.
But they are also the same. They share a common bond. They will all know what it is like to grow up half way around the world from where you were born. They will all know what it is like to not look like your parents. They will all know what it is like to live in a culture so different from that of your birth. They will all have questions. They will all face obstacles and difficulties.
But they will be sisters. Their shared experiences will bond them. They can turn to eachother. And that in some small way will help them through.
Bunny is lucky. One of her new sisters is from her same orphanage. They share the same early history. They were cared for by the same caregivers. They had the same experiences. They are sisters.
This is one of the greatest gifts that I can give my daughter. To let her know her sisters. To learn the language and the culture of her birth country. To let her know that she is part of our family but also is a family with her sisters. She is not alone.
*Teacher Shen said "Hello".
Bunny said "Hello teacher."
Friday, September 5, 2008
Cat Scratch Fever
We have two cats in our house. His and hers cats if you will.
Bubs adopted Detroit before he met me. And if you must know Detroit got her name from some stupid bet thingy with his ex-girlfriend, and yes it is a stupid name.
I adopted Tabasco when I was in law school, after I had met Bubs. And since we are telling how our cats got their names, Tabasco was named after a race horse, Tabasco Cat (because I'm all original and stuff).
Not long after I adopted Tabasco, Bubs graduated and moved back home for a while. Since his mom was allergic to cats, I took guardianship of Detroit. So she has been my cat for about 12 years now. But she is still Bubs' cat and always will be.
My cat is awesome. He's cute. He's cuddly. He is basically a dog in cat's clothing, he comes to the door when you get home. He'll follow you around, just waiting to get petted. Yes he's a bit dumb, a condition which I know to be genetic because my friends have his siblings and they are dumb too (hello Oliver!). But he's a cute dumb.
Now if you've read this blog in the past, you are probably saying to yourself "Isn't he the cat that pees on your stuff?" Yes, yes he is. But the traits I've listed above make the peeing tolerable because he's just so darn cute.
Now Bubs' cat is the devil. Well not the actual devil but pretty darn close. She's mean. She's nasty. She doesn't like people. She bites. But she is a beautiful cat.
Every so often she will come to you and let (demand that) you pet her. Yesterday was one of those days. I apparently forgot that she was evil so I decided to brush her. Everything was going along swimmingly, she was purring and seemed to be enjoying herself. But then I caught some matted fur and it was game over. She reached over and bit my hand. Hard. So hard it drew blood.
See I told you she was evil.
Bubs adopted Detroit before he met me. And if you must know Detroit got her name from some stupid bet thingy with his ex-girlfriend, and yes it is a stupid name.
I adopted Tabasco when I was in law school, after I had met Bubs. And since we are telling how our cats got their names, Tabasco was named after a race horse, Tabasco Cat (because I'm all original and stuff).
Not long after I adopted Tabasco, Bubs graduated and moved back home for a while. Since his mom was allergic to cats, I took guardianship of Detroit. So she has been my cat for about 12 years now. But she is still Bubs' cat and always will be.
My cat is awesome. He's cute. He's cuddly. He is basically a dog in cat's clothing, he comes to the door when you get home. He'll follow you around, just waiting to get petted. Yes he's a bit dumb, a condition which I know to be genetic because my friends have his siblings and they are dumb too (hello Oliver!). But he's a cute dumb.
Now if you've read this blog in the past, you are probably saying to yourself "Isn't he the cat that pees on your stuff?" Yes, yes he is. But the traits I've listed above make the peeing tolerable because he's just so darn cute.
Now Bubs' cat is the devil. Well not the actual devil but pretty darn close. She's mean. She's nasty. She doesn't like people. She bites. But she is a beautiful cat.
Every so often she will come to you and let (demand that) you pet her. Yesterday was one of those days. I apparently forgot that she was evil so I decided to brush her. Everything was going along swimmingly, she was purring and seemed to be enjoying herself. But then I caught some matted fur and it was game over. She reached over and bit my hand. Hard. So hard it drew blood.
See I told you she was evil.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Growing Pains
My baby, ok my little girl, wants to grow up so badly. She wants to be a big girl. And not just in the give me your credit card and your keys kind of way.
No Bunny has much more specific goals in mind. She wants to go on the inflatable dinosaur slide at the State Fair. Some days its all she talks about.
You see when we went to the fair, a month ago (hello elephant-like memory) she saw this huge inflatable slide with a T-Rex on the outside. Like any other dinosaur obsessed child this was nirvana, the holy grail of rides.
But she was too small to go on the ride. She did not meet the You Must Be This Tall requirements. She was "too little" so she had to settle for the carousel. Well Bunny decided, right then and there, that she needed to get "big" and get big fast so another opportunity to ride the dino slide would not be lost.
We told her that if she eats her food (and vegetables) and drinks all of her milk she will get bigger. So she eats (most of the time) and drinks like she is supposed to.
While eating she will put down her fork and say "I'm getting bigger." Yes, sweetie you are. "I'm big now." Oh yes, you are so big. "I wanna go on the dino ride." Next time we're at the fair, honey.
Then she'll finish off with this grand pronouncement, "I'm jumbo."
No Bunny has much more specific goals in mind. She wants to go on the inflatable dinosaur slide at the State Fair. Some days its all she talks about.
You see when we went to the fair, a month ago (hello elephant-like memory) she saw this huge inflatable slide with a T-Rex on the outside. Like any other dinosaur obsessed child this was nirvana, the holy grail of rides.
But she was too small to go on the ride. She did not meet the You Must Be This Tall requirements. She was "too little" so she had to settle for the carousel. Well Bunny decided, right then and there, that she needed to get "big" and get big fast so another opportunity to ride the dino slide would not be lost.
We told her that if she eats her food (and vegetables) and drinks all of her milk she will get bigger. So she eats (most of the time) and drinks like she is supposed to.
While eating she will put down her fork and say "I'm getting bigger." Yes, sweetie you are. "I'm big now." Oh yes, you are so big. "I wanna go on the dino ride." Next time we're at the fair, honey.
Then she'll finish off with this grand pronouncement, "I'm jumbo."
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Broken Hearts and Bee Stings
Let's just get this out there, I do not like bugs. Insects, arachnids and their bretheren just creep me the hell out.
I can admire them for the engineering marvels that they are. I mean how the heck do those bumble bees fly and the spiders spin those amazing webs? But that is the extent of my good feelings towards the creepy crawling, hopping and flying little buggers goes.
But yesterday my feelings towards bugs took an interesting turn.
Bunny is in love with Miss Spider's Tea Party by David Kirk. She requests the book all the time and even "reads" it in bed. Needless to say she was over the moon when we discovered the Miss Spider show on Noggin. As far as she is concerned this show should be on a constant loop at our house.
I like the show too. Good animation and the cute little bugs teach good stories about how to treat others. As far as I am concerned these cartoon bugs are the only bugs I like.
Until yesterday. Yesterday I was cursing David Kirk and whoever green lit the cartoon. They caused me to break my daughter's heart.
Bunny was over tired at naptime. She did not want to sleep, all she wanted to do was watch Miss Spider. And I wouldn't let her until after she took a nap. But she wouldn't sleep. All I heard were repeated requests to watch Miss Spider over the monitor.
After listening to this for over almost an hour an a half, it was clear there would be no nap. So, begrudginly, I retreived her from her room. Bunny thought this meant she could watch Miss Spider. But I did not want to give in so I put my foot down and said no.
This caused a major over tired breakdown. Bunny started sobbing with tears streaming down her face. "Please momma. Please watch Miss Spider momma. I said please momma." Her heart was breaking and so was mine. She asked so politely, it was all she wanted. But I was mean and would not give in.
I know this was the best thing for her but her tired little brain could not wrap itself around this. All she knew was that her mother was denying her the only thing in the world she wanted. I felt terrible.
But her heartbreak was short lived, mine was not. She was diverted by grapes and juice and the promise of the pool. As I watched her splashing in the pool and running through the sprinkler I thought about how I'd let her down. I thought about the many times I would let her down in the future and my heart broke some more.
It was about that time when I saw a wasp buzzing around the backyard. I started freaking out. Of all the bugs, I hate the stinging kind the most. I had these terrible visions of Bunny being stung, of having to take her to the emergency room, of, well, even more horrible things than that.
I knew I couldn't let her get hurt but I didn't want to drag her away from the pool and disappoint her once again. So I kept an eye on the wasp. I even positioned myself between her and the wasp, thinking he wouldn't come near the water. Right? Wrong. Apparently he was thirsty and thought the puddles near the pool were a nifty place to hang out. Yikes.
So I, in my bug fearing brain, knew I needed to get her out of there. I knew she'd see the wasp and want to go in for a better look. I was afraid her movements would spook the wasp and . . . well not good. So I wrapped her in a towel and took her in the house.
After a few squawks of protest, she was happily watching Miss Spider in the living room. Her heart was content. And mine was healed by a icky stingy wasp who reminded me what was important.
I can admire them for the engineering marvels that they are. I mean how the heck do those bumble bees fly and the spiders spin those amazing webs? But that is the extent of my good feelings towards the creepy crawling, hopping and flying little buggers goes.
But yesterday my feelings towards bugs took an interesting turn.
Bunny is in love with Miss Spider's Tea Party by David Kirk. She requests the book all the time and even "reads" it in bed. Needless to say she was over the moon when we discovered the Miss Spider show on Noggin. As far as she is concerned this show should be on a constant loop at our house.
I like the show too. Good animation and the cute little bugs teach good stories about how to treat others. As far as I am concerned these cartoon bugs are the only bugs I like.
Until yesterday. Yesterday I was cursing David Kirk and whoever green lit the cartoon. They caused me to break my daughter's heart.
Bunny was over tired at naptime. She did not want to sleep, all she wanted to do was watch Miss Spider. And I wouldn't let her until after she took a nap. But she wouldn't sleep. All I heard were repeated requests to watch Miss Spider over the monitor.
After listening to this for over almost an hour an a half, it was clear there would be no nap. So, begrudginly, I retreived her from her room. Bunny thought this meant she could watch Miss Spider. But I did not want to give in so I put my foot down and said no.
This caused a major over tired breakdown. Bunny started sobbing with tears streaming down her face. "Please momma. Please watch Miss Spider momma. I said please momma." Her heart was breaking and so was mine. She asked so politely, it was all she wanted. But I was mean and would not give in.
I know this was the best thing for her but her tired little brain could not wrap itself around this. All she knew was that her mother was denying her the only thing in the world she wanted. I felt terrible.
But her heartbreak was short lived, mine was not. She was diverted by grapes and juice and the promise of the pool. As I watched her splashing in the pool and running through the sprinkler I thought about how I'd let her down. I thought about the many times I would let her down in the future and my heart broke some more.
It was about that time when I saw a wasp buzzing around the backyard. I started freaking out. Of all the bugs, I hate the stinging kind the most. I had these terrible visions of Bunny being stung, of having to take her to the emergency room, of, well, even more horrible things than that.
I knew I couldn't let her get hurt but I didn't want to drag her away from the pool and disappoint her once again. So I kept an eye on the wasp. I even positioned myself between her and the wasp, thinking he wouldn't come near the water. Right? Wrong. Apparently he was thirsty and thought the puddles near the pool were a nifty place to hang out. Yikes.
So I, in my bug fearing brain, knew I needed to get her out of there. I knew she'd see the wasp and want to go in for a better look. I was afraid her movements would spook the wasp and . . . well not good. So I wrapped her in a towel and took her in the house.
After a few squawks of protest, she was happily watching Miss Spider in the living room. Her heart was content. And mine was healed by a icky stingy wasp who reminded me what was important.
The Littlest Consumer
There is no doubt that we live in a consumerist society. We are conditioned from a young age to buy what we need and what we want. You try to sheild your children from the media blitz, the commericals for the latest game, toy or movie. But it is difficult.
We try to limit new toys for Bunny to special occasions. Right now I am stocking up on little presents for when we start potty training. Nothing big just coloring books, crayons, little dinos (shocking I know) etc. But she doesn't get toys on a regular basis. We have enough here that she doesn't play with, she doesn't need any more.
I will however buy new books for her. I want her to love reading as much as I do. We check out books regularly from the library but we also like to have a variety of books at home. So she gets new books.
So we try not to spoil her. We try not to expose her to the consumer blitz. But she is not immune.
She has learned the words "Buy it." She knows that if she wants something we don't have, we can go to the store and "buy it." Yikes!
Luckily for us, her consumerist wants only center around food. She wants a pear, we only have apples. "Lets go to store to buy pears, momma." She wants chocolate milk, we don't have any. "Lets go buy some." No juice, "lets go buy it."
We don't give in to her demands but I blame myself for this behavior. I take her to the store with me all the time. I tell her we have to buy food for dinner. We need to get more milk because we've run out and so on.
Its because of me that my daughter knows the words "buy it." I've created another little consumer monster.
We try to limit new toys for Bunny to special occasions. Right now I am stocking up on little presents for when we start potty training. Nothing big just coloring books, crayons, little dinos (shocking I know) etc. But she doesn't get toys on a regular basis. We have enough here that she doesn't play with, she doesn't need any more.
I will however buy new books for her. I want her to love reading as much as I do. We check out books regularly from the library but we also like to have a variety of books at home. So she gets new books.
So we try not to spoil her. We try not to expose her to the consumer blitz. But she is not immune.
She has learned the words "Buy it." She knows that if she wants something we don't have, we can go to the store and "buy it." Yikes!
Luckily for us, her consumerist wants only center around food. She wants a pear, we only have apples. "Lets go to store to buy pears, momma." She wants chocolate milk, we don't have any. "Lets go buy some." No juice, "lets go buy it."
We don't give in to her demands but I blame myself for this behavior. I take her to the store with me all the time. I tell her we have to buy food for dinner. We need to get more milk because we've run out and so on.
Its because of me that my daughter knows the words "buy it." I've created another little consumer monster.
Monday, September 1, 2008
What Do You Think
Last night Bubs watched one of his "favorite" movies for what seemed to be the 100th time, which led to this conversation: If you could watch one movie right now what would it be?
After some deliberation and debate we came up with this criteria for our choices: it doesn't have to be what you consider the best movie ever, just one that you really enjoy that stands up to repeated viewing.
Bubs chose Pirates of the Carribean, Curse of the Black Pearl. I chose The Princess Bride.
How about you? If you could watch one movie right now, what would it be?
After some deliberation and debate we came up with this criteria for our choices: it doesn't have to be what you consider the best movie ever, just one that you really enjoy that stands up to repeated viewing.
Bubs chose Pirates of the Carribean, Curse of the Black Pearl. I chose The Princess Bride.
How about you? If you could watch one movie right now, what would it be?
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