Blog Renovations

It is almost as much fun as redecorating your home... revamping your blog.

Today I was let loose out of the house for some time as a solitary human and spent the first half of the day in Starbucks with my dear friend, Stephanie who helped me figure out html codes and the finer workings of Photoshop Elements.

 Steph is a treasure in many ways more than just her technical expertise... but today I was definitely appreciating that techy side of her brain. I envy the ability she has to so deftly use both sides of her brain though. Just recently she launched a recipe blog and has steadily been compiling a growing list of food ideas. One of our families favorites is the crispy chocolate chip pumpkin cookies., which also includes a recipe on how to make your own pumpkin butter. YUM. And just to gush for a minute more, this woman is a wonderful art teacher and is currently in grad school, so she has a blog up for that too. Check out this fun and creative, not to mention informative Chinese paper cutting she did recently for a grad project. So cool.

I was having slight flashbacks this morning to my high school days as the editor of our yearbook (read: nerd). I had so much fun during those days with the whole new world of graphic design that was opened up to me. I think the other students must have thought I was some sort of freakish nazi about our layouts... but for me it was like the ultimate creative enterprise... writing, design, and photographs, all rolled into one. So bear with me if I get a little excited about a new header on this blog!

There is only about an hour left to my "day off" so I'm off to sip some more java...

Sunday afternoons are for

I have nothing of value to say right now, except that I love this photo.

The Man left on a four day trip today, and the hoodlums are loose in the dining room...

Notice the bandanas on backwards.

The nakedness (read: savageness)

The intensity of the faces

The look of "this is completely normal and I am in nothing short of my element standing here completely bare outside of a pink loin cloth and my brother's underwear."

He Comes Home to Her Hugs

She loves her Daddy, this girl does. He just returned from another long week away, the last travels of the summer behind us now. The returns are always so sweet, and particularly for this child who loves to wrestle and romp and cuddle with the best of them. As you may gather from bits and pieces I drop here, sometimes I can tire of her energetic ways but not her Daddy. He is over the moon about her, no matter how many times she sits on his head or lands an elbow in his face. It must be all those kisses and curls and the way she'll lay and snuggle with him for longer than I've seen since she was a breastfeeding newborn. 

And I have to say it does melt my heart a bit to watch them together. They're both so blessed to have each other, which makes me a blessed woman too.

Pwetty Girl

My girl. She has no business wearing dresses really. But she loves them, calls them her "pwetties!" And I feel like in some way, they tone down some of her more aggressive qualities. "Spirited," a friend called it. Yes, that's what I need to say when she climbs out of windows giggling as she stands precariously on narrow ledges (until Daddy runs in with heart at his feet and swoops her away), as she walks up to each and every child gathered outside to play and pushes them the way a linebacker would, just as a way of saying "hello."

A sun dress can make all that seem okay, can't it?

personal day

Every school year my hard working husband is afforded a couple "personal days"-- time off that doesn't have to be excused by sickness or death or anything but some simple time away from the grind. This same hard working husband has graciously offered the same gift to me... a personal day all to myself. Actually, he has given me a few of them and let me tell you, they are glorious. I even woke up at 4:30 am so I could get out of the house at the beautiful sunrise hour and drink in all the things I can do when it's just me.

I don't have a whole lot to show for that day. Just a beautiful cup of early morning affagoto which I enjoyed in the stillness and quiet of a side street cafe, a door from a village walk, and some words written down about souls and marriage and Woody Allen. I also bought some new plants for our patio which now feels inviting instead of slightly trailer-trashish.



As the evening drew near and I moseyed home through the park near our house, I met up with a dear friend and her little girl at the beach down the way. Her daughter is stunning and too cute for words, as is she, especially being nine months pregnant and full with the roundness and beauty that happens when a baby takes over a woman's body. I took a few pictures, wanting something to give her to remind her of this rare and beautiful time that can often just feel puffy and tiring. The results didn't convince me to start a portfolio or anything, but it was fun to have someone to look through a lens at that wasn't my own offspring. All in all, a delightfully refreshing personal day.

Re-entry Days II

We're so glad he's back... and feeling better!

pride goeth before the pictures

It seems only right to follow up a post on pride with tons of pictures of my beautiful and talented children. I would post pictures of your beautiful and talented children, if only I had them. But it seems all I have is ones of mine. A ridiculous amount of them. What does one do in the age of digital cameras when you can click and click and click and pile them all into your computer without spending a penny? Even after weeding out, they still pile up like a stack of  kindergarten papers, meaningless and and superfluous except that they hold a scrap of his work, a scrape of his pen, a stroke of his artistic or literary genius beginnings. Why can't I just pick out that one representative piece, that perfect moment that encapsulates all the myriad of moments that lie there stacked and collected and begging to be let go?

I can. I will. Before I do though, I will throw them up all over you and this space that begs to be filled with narcissistic behavior. Some of which include talking about myself and showing pictures of my family. What would Jack say??

My friend who is an amazing photographer is doing this thing on her blog called Dog Days where she takes a photo ever day this summer, cataloging the days that can seem long and challenging when you live in a city with not much to do and little ones who don't have off switches. I think that is a lovely idea. I don't know how fully I can join in, but maybe once in awhile, or once a week. Today our "exciting" activity was playing in the little fountains down the road from our apartment.

Tomorrow the exciting activity is heading to Beijing for a long weekend to visit the Man! We started packing at about 7 am this morning and some of us were so excited, we asked to "pack all day long." But since we're only bringing one bag we soon discovered that was not a very feasible idea.

The Beach, The Bus, The Bolted Door

(If perchance you are wondering at the daily posting of late... the explanation would be a lone man who misses his family (and wants to see pictures), and a lone woman with kids on her hands and photo class requirements to fulfill. )

This morning we headed out to the beach to play and kick soccer balls, throw rocks and eat sand. It was a beautiful, cloud covered day with shades of gray and the sun peeping out here and there to warm us. We watched this woman gather seaweed, and threw rocks at other rocks, presumably trying to ward off the little skeevy shrimp size bugs that skitter everywhere as you play.

Next up was taking the bus into the city to get groceries and have lunch. By this time the humidity had risen considerably, sending spirally springs of curls straight up out of my pulled back hair and making me look all askew and wild as I herded not one, not two, but three (not that many to some of you, but here it always draws stares and comments) children onto the bus. I sat still and listened to the hum of chatter in the background, feeling conspicuous and uncomfortable and very hot.

We made it home and I grabbed the small window of time to grab a few particular shots I needed, during the most opportune time, when one sits still and can't run off... toilet time. Yes, he is sitting on the toilet and I shamelessly snapped away, promising m&m's at the end if he would cooperate, which he did.

Later, in the evening, we went to a friend's apartment for a wonderful dinner she had prepared, enjoying ourselves for a full thirty minutes (maybe), when our sweet little girl promptly shut the bedroom door and locked herself in. No keys. No outside access. The result: a broken down door. That would be broken-down door number two for little Scout this month. She had just previously done the same thing in our bathroom. They really need to get us some keys around here.

Lovely Rain

I can still hear the raindrops out there in the dark, the muted percussion of a hundred different tempos splattering steadily on leaves and concrete, puddles and petals. The ocean is crashing in the distance. Whoever made those CD's of "sounds of water" was onto something...

Evolution of a Window Sill

For some reason I can't stop taking photos of my kitchen window. If you read here very often, you will likely recognize these white tiled sills and ever-changing plant and flower arrangements. Maybe it's because it is one of the few well-lit places in our apartment. Maybe it's because I usually put whatever flowers I have on display there. Today it's because I found this cute little robin's egg planter while I was at the plant shop today.

One of the wonderful things about China is the ridiculously cheap prices for plants, flowers, and vegetables. In the States I would consider each one of those things somewhat of a luxury, a break-my-meager-pocket-book purchase. They were things I always wanted to indulge in but rarely could. I mean, we bought vegetables, but not always fresh ones and when I did it usually meant a "fun" discussion about the amount of our grocery bill. So, it is freeing and a source of delight to be able to regularly indulge in fresh flowers, green plants, and fresh veggies on a regular basis.

This cute little jewel of a plant only cost me about $1.35. (Ahem, China friends... if I paid too much you can tell me later). Even though the price is hard to beat, there is a bit of stress that mounts in the back of my shoulders every time I head out to the rows of vendors and shopkeepers who make up this large plant market. I don't know if I'm paying a ridiculous price. I don't know if the healthy looking little number I'm buying is being held together by chemicals foreign to the natural world and the poor thing will start deteriorating the moment I step out the door (this has happened to me a lot).

Today I also had the Little Scout with me which was an additional stress, or adventure I guess you could say. Before leaving the house this morning she had already shoved a toothbrush down the bathroom sink drain, poured sesame oil all over our floor, couch, and living room rug (yes, it still smells like some delicious Korean food is cooking in our living room), and all this under my watchful eye. I'm not kidding, I do watch her. She is just fast.

So we headed out to the market and I asked about potting soil prices (trying to get some delivered to our house so I can do some back patio planting!) while my sidekick stuck her hands in little waterfalls, tried to stop the water wheels, grabbed handfuls of dirt, pulled petals off of elegant orchids, and smiled sweetly with all her cute gusto at the shop ladies following her around. She really is quite charming, even though there is no telling what will happen in her wake.

So, in honor of my sweet Little Scout and her busy, charming way, and as a tribute to my husband who says from the looks of our photo files it would seem I do nothing but stand around taking pictures looking down at my daughter all day, I leave with you yet another shot of her chubby cuteness. I'm not sure who is getting more attention these days, those blue eyes or my window sill.

 

come putz around my house

I've been pretty wordy lately, I will admit. So today I am just going to share a few moments with you via the camera. We had a couple exciting things happen here over the last couple days, exciting being a relative term that I use with a bit of liberty.

First up is our firstborn son, sporting his first ever lost tooth. I think he was a bit surprised and maybe slightly relieved at how excited his mom got about this event. I'm not sure why it affected me so much. I guess I never imagined myself with a bunch of babies, and certainly not with a five year old who looks like an eight year old and talks like a ten year old. And you just don't imagine imagine them getting all gap toothed and whistle-worded. It's so cute. 

Then there was sweet little Ari, who I could hear faintly somewhere in the house, talking about the disciples and how they thought he was dead, but he really wasn't!!... and I came upon him "reading" this very long and detailed story to his poor little bear who must have felt a bit stiff from sitting so long. But his very attentive daddy eventually put him to bed after spending about forty five minutes constructing it.

I also discovered this little treat. Our thrifted cabinet which houses all the coloring, puzzles, and paper for little hands, lost it's door (which it's done before but this time I think it's for good) to Kids Fighting Over Closing It Trauma. So now I just need to get a cute piece of fabric and sew up a little curtain with the sewing machine I don't yet have.

In other news, I've been wanting to find an old desk to put in the back corner of my bedroom as a little haven for all my crafting supplies and projects. And the sewing machine I'm dreaming of. This goes against all the rules of making your bedroom your "haven" which I think I heard somewhere on Oprah or something but it is becoming increasingly impractical in our little apartment. I'm just not going to get that sewing room. Or laundry room for that matter. Or mud room. Or basement. But I'm okay with it! I think I'll enjoy sprucing up this little corner so maybe I'll post a new picture someday when it is all in order... and when I learn how to sew.

The desk is from a friend who is moving away at the end of the school year. That's the sad part. I hate taking away furniture from people who are leaving. But I love the idea of it going to people you know. I actually love returning home and finding little bits and pieces of our past scattered throughout our friends houses. This particular desk is pretty rickety, but I love it's character.

I think tomorrow may be the big day I finish my little sweater and I can't wait to share pictures with you, so stay tuned!

The Call of the Nile

Some time ago I wrote of the selfless super acts my husband seems to regularly engage in. I alluded to the fact that there would be more to come... and my post today, if it is nothing else, it is a tribute to that fact.

I am going to Egypt. I am going without children.

Hmm. Interesting, you might say to yourself. How is she going to swing that? Doesn't her husband have a job? Aren't her kids kind of young? Aren't there several of them? Why is she going to one of the great wonders of the world and leaving the most important people in her life behind?

First of all, before I explain the details, can I just say BAAAAAHHHHHH!!! I'M GOING TO EGYPT!!
If there was something I never imagined myself being as a suburbanite kid growing up two towns away from Gary, Indiana, it was a world traveler. Now, here I am living in the Far East, racking up stamps on my passport like it's a hobby or something.

The facts are that the school we work for is taking some students on a trip. They needed an extra chaperone and voila, I am here to serve. The trip falls over the Spring Break, so my knight in shining armor will be flying solo with all the bread-buttering and bathtimes, and using up his precious vacation time to do so. I feel really blessed by him and the joy he seems to genuinely experience at the idea of me getting to do something so rare and exciting.

We will be in Cairo for 10 days: haunting the pyramids, flying down the Nile, losing ourselves in street markets and the inky depths of middle eastern coffee. There is some business to attend to (the purpose for our trip, ahem) but even that is exciting: a five day simulation of the United Nations that will be full of interesting ideas, proposals, debates, and all that is the melting pot of young minds hard at work.

I am planning to breathe deep, look long, take pictures, and hopefully share some of it here with you when I'm not enforcing curfew and sitting tight lipped in a hotel conference room. On top of all that I'm sure I will be waylaid with guilt about the fact that my husband is bearing the raw end of this deal, and that there are a host of people who are far more deserving of this trip than I.

He's excited about having a special time with the kids; loading up on pancakes and Monopoly marathons. I'm stocking the freezer and trying to figure out what to wear when it's 90 degrees and you can't show any skin.

We leave one week from today.

Taking Over the World One Toddler at a Time

Peek-a-boo… aha! It’s daybreak and I’m awake. These fools can’t make me sleep a moment longer. Don’t they know that it’s not this silly pink blanket with fuzzy brown trimming, or this strangely shaped plastic nipple thingy they shove in my mouth every night that makes me sleep? It’s the sheer will power and brilliant planning of my highly developed 15 month old brain. You see, I know that without at least an 8 hour stretch of rested neuron activity I will not have the appropriate amount of energy or sugar levels in my blood to sustain the kind of activity I have planned for the day ahead. And boy do I have plans.

The Tall One seems completely clueless to my powers. She sings and swoons and pats my back in patronizing little circles, tip-toeing out of the room as through I’m not laying here, WIDE AWAKE, in full knowledge of the fact that she is traipsing off back into well-lit rooms to drink wine and gobble chocolate and God knows what else they do when they lock me away in here.

But, aha! I’m awake now and there is not a minute to lose. First, I must find that pesky three-year old who sounds like he’s got a legion of marbles in his mouth and chase him down when he’s getting off the toilet, scaring the bee-jeebies out of his plump little hiney because he thinks I’m gonna yank on his thing—which I do sometimes-- but only because it’s so tiny and he screams like a girl, and I’m the girl and I don’t even scream like that.

Then the Tall One comes running in again. She scoops me up and usually attempts some sort of serious sounding reprimand, squeezing my hands as though that will somehow deter me from wanting to make the little squealer run again. I mean, maybe if you cut my hands OFF, maybe then I’d think twice, but squeeze them? C’mon lady, read any decent parenting books lately? Probably too many modern ones that talk about “understanding” and “respect” and a whole bunch of other stuff I won’t respond to cause I’m not even two yet.

Anyway, then there’s breakfast. They give me this cold, creamy white stuff that I get to suck out of a long tube just like one of those old Indian guys who smokes—which is what I pretend to do and I love the cold brain freeze I get at the end. Think there’s stuff like that for when you’re as big as the Tall One? Then she (the Tall One-- she’s kind of around all the time, pulling me off of stuff, shoving things in my face, squeezing my hands, rubbing my back, stuffing me into seats and strollers and on and on- so you’ll just have to get used to her) is there again with toast and squishy bananas which are my favorite because you squeeze them super tight and they metamorph into a completely different substance, oozing out between your fingers and up your sleeves. I’ve discovered they work really great in your hair too- and it smells so good. I don’t know why the Tall One doesn’t use it; her hair always looks a wreck.

But on to the rest of the day. I have so many plans: there are the kitchen drawers to empty and dispense with into the garbage bin (so far, I have successfully smuggled one foreign imported pastry cutter, one bread knife, and one highly coveted blender apparatus into the hidden depths of the plastic bag abyss without the Tall One or her accomplices ever noticing until it was far too late), bunk beds to scale and sky-dive off of, plungers to inspect with my teeth, windows to escape out of (the Tall One flails about so with hysterical gestures and dances that it makes the event rather addicting), cleaning supplies to guzzle, computers to rewire, and always the little Squealer to yank on. I’m so delighted just thinking about the prospects of my day that I think I’ll stop pooping in my pants right now and save a little for later. It’s time to roll.

Why I Need an Ayi

You may think it arrogant of me to ever assume I could live without our Ayi.

And yet, somehow, those moments do occur when I imagine myself in all my domestic glory, able to single-handedly carry out all the tasks and necessary duties my household requires. "I could really handle this..." I think confidently to myself. "Maybe I should consider trying it on my own next year..."

short digression: an Ayi, for those of you who don't know, is a polite term meaning "Auntie" which is what we call our paid helper who comes 5 days a week to help cook, clean, iron, can I say again IRON (God bless this woman), and babysit if needed.

Today, after nearly a two week vacation from the confines of our rascal-filled home, our blessed Ayi returned. This is what she found.

{told through the eyes of a sweet little Chinese woman, from the pen of a tall American one who cannot, in fact, speak much Chinese}
Oh, hello! Oh my. I see the boys. But where is Sadie? And where is their mother? There are shoes everywhere. Did they just get home? No. The boys are in underwear and nothing else. Surely she doesn't let them run around like that all day. Oh! I hear the baby... in her crib by herself again. the Mother must be in the shower. Why doesn't she wake up earlier to do that?


Hello sweet girlie! Did you miss me? Did your mother feed you? Did she let you out of the house at all? From the looks of things, it appears not. Oh, you want to get down... okay, run along and play. Goodness. This floor is filthy. Did she wash it at all since I left [No. No, I did not.] Well, at least she did a little laundry. But why are the folded clothes still here on the piano, stacked nearly to the ceiling? And look at this dust. They'll probably get sick from inhaling all this dirt. She's had nearly two weeks with her husband home, ever heard of spring cleaning?? [Yes. Yes, I have]

Oh, so she wants me to vacuum the floors and wash them while she takes the kids outside. Does she realize that half the vacuum bag will be filled up with dead leaves from the plants that are strewn all over the floor? Does she know that they in fact need water to live? This poor fern is half the size it once was... Speaking of water, have they used any on these dishes lately? Well, I guess they must have done some since there is still a little counter space left. What in the world have they been eating?... these strange westerners leave some serious mess when they are done cooking [I don't think it's a western thing- my mother has long said the same.]

I'll cook up a little dinner before I head home. I love these kids, but Lord knows how they stay healthy when all they eat is peanut butter and jelly on bread every single day. And the looks of this veggie drawer is pretty scarce. Do they seriously just eat meat and cheese all day long? Poor dears. Maybe I can restore some order now that I'm back.


I am sorry, my sweet, faithful, hardworking and gracious Ayi, we and specifically I, do in fact NEED you.

As a disclaimer to all my western friends, you must know that I thought long and hard about hiring an Ayi when we first moved here. I could never afford a maid in the States, and I worried over whether or not it was an aristocratic thing to do here or if we would be abusing the low-paid labor force. But, from what I have learned neither is the case. And I promise you I do not sit around all day eating Bon Bons (which we don't have, and I don't like anyway), or looking at Facebook. I make my own bed, clean my own bathrooms (some of the time), cook several meals throughout the week, bake all my own bread and other eatable goodies, take care of my children, clean up after myself...(have I defended myself sufficiently yet?)

So, here is my "Why I Need an Ayi" Manifesto:

1. I have a 15 month old. Do you know how busy she is? She makes housework about as possible as ridding your body of all the unwanted cellulite.
2. It takes me about 1 week worth of shopping for every 1 day of errands it did in the States. In other words, shopping and errands are a long, arduous and time consuming task. 
3. I have a washing machine the size of 5 gallon paint bucket, and zero dryer. This equals lots of loads, lots of hanging, lots of waiting (it's humid here, or freeze-your-pants-off cold), and lots of folding.
4. It's crazy dusty and we have all wood (nasty fake stuff so no need to drool) or tile floors. That means, lots of mopping. And sweeping (did I mention the 15 month old?). And vacuuming with the world's most pathetic excuse for a sucking machine.
5. I just want to mention the 15 month old again.
6. Cooking takes a lot more time and effort to, a) think of something to cook with the locally available ingredients, b) shop for said ingredients-see #2, and c) cook them:) I like cooking, I just relish the break I get from it 3 days a week.

And last but not least, my Ayi is one of the only windows I have of this still vague and unknown world around me that is China. She shares her family, her language, her love and her culture with me each and every day. I trust her her with my children, feel comfortable in her presence, feast upon her cooking, and thank God for her presence in our lives. 

Next week I may relapse into another fit of self-sufficient seizures. Funny how that always happens while she's cleaning my floor. But for today, I think I have seen the light.