Does she not look so totally ready to conquer the world? Or at least Mrs. B's Kindergarten class? L-Loo is on top of the tank after riding her favorite pony.
Thursday, August 31, 2006
Monday, August 21, 2006
A Post is Brewing
I've recently discovered, by way of this blog: http://thirdculturekid.blogs.com/third_culture_kids/
And this site: http://www.thirdculturekid.com/... and many others like it.. that there is actually a NAME for the feeling I've had since spending part of my teen years in Japan, and then living in Japan for years after college.
That neverending homesick feeling for a place that really isn't "home". Missing all things Japanese, the language, the music, the culture the tolerance of others and respect for the seasons..wanting to go back and live there.
And then, when I'm there for extended periods I know I'll feel the same way about the States. Missing drive thrus, drive in's (the few that are left), wide open spaces not crowded by people... and free refills of massive glasses of iced tea in restaurants. Missing family and friends. Missing the anonymity that not being a minority brings. Being able to move about my day without ever wondering if the way I'm being treated is because I don't look like everyone else. Sabetsu. It actually bothered me where I used to live in Japan.
There is a job lead that would bring us to Japan. Not permanently, mind you, just for a few years. The whole family. Hubby understands what this means to me and is adventurous enough to give it a go - if the conditions are right.
However, a thought that has often crossed my mind is this: Would I be causing the same Third Culture result in my own children by raising them for part of their childhood in a (very different) culture?
I've had a post brewing on this on my head for a few weeks now. I'm not ready to put it all down in words just yet.
I want my kids to grow up outside the US at some point. I want them to learn a second language. Of course, because I have such an affinity for all things Japanese, I'd love for them to share this other culture and language with me, too.
I want them to experience life with a global perspective. I want these things for them - but wonder if the drawbacks are greater than I can even imagine at this time. The transition - new home, new school, new friends...it's a BIG move.
Missing family and friends. The language barrier until they become more conversant in Japanese.
It's not about Japan versus the US for a place to raise kids. I feel somewhat aware of the pros and cons on each... It's about the personal decision to make a big change to my kids' childhood. One that I can't take back. One that I might regret. Or, regret if I don't take the risk jointly with hubby to have them experience.
I've got some heavy duty thinking to do here before I proceed...
And this site: http://www.thirdculturekid.com/... and many others like it.. that there is actually a NAME for the feeling I've had since spending part of my teen years in Japan, and then living in Japan for years after college.
That neverending homesick feeling for a place that really isn't "home". Missing all things Japanese, the language, the music, the culture the tolerance of others and respect for the seasons..wanting to go back and live there.
And then, when I'm there for extended periods I know I'll feel the same way about the States. Missing drive thrus, drive in's (the few that are left), wide open spaces not crowded by people... and free refills of massive glasses of iced tea in restaurants. Missing family and friends. Missing the anonymity that not being a minority brings. Being able to move about my day without ever wondering if the way I'm being treated is because I don't look like everyone else. Sabetsu. It actually bothered me where I used to live in Japan.
There is a job lead that would bring us to Japan. Not permanently, mind you, just for a few years. The whole family. Hubby understands what this means to me and is adventurous enough to give it a go - if the conditions are right.
However, a thought that has often crossed my mind is this: Would I be causing the same Third Culture result in my own children by raising them for part of their childhood in a (very different) culture?
I've had a post brewing on this on my head for a few weeks now. I'm not ready to put it all down in words just yet.
I want my kids to grow up outside the US at some point. I want them to learn a second language. Of course, because I have such an affinity for all things Japanese, I'd love for them to share this other culture and language with me, too.
I want them to experience life with a global perspective. I want these things for them - but wonder if the drawbacks are greater than I can even imagine at this time. The transition - new home, new school, new friends...it's a BIG move.
Missing family and friends. The language barrier until they become more conversant in Japanese.
It's not about Japan versus the US for a place to raise kids. I feel somewhat aware of the pros and cons on each... It's about the personal decision to make a big change to my kids' childhood. One that I can't take back. One that I might regret. Or, regret if I don't take the risk jointly with hubby to have them experience.
I've got some heavy duty thinking to do here before I proceed...
Choo Choo Heaven
Fun from Saturday at the Jackson Street Roundhouse - or as I call it: Choo Choo Heaven for little boys. It's even fun for the rest of the family - but, as you can imagine, Mr. Man loves it best of all. They have tons of train tables and a never-ending Thomas the Tank Engine episode loop playing on a nearby big screen TV.
Monday, August 14, 2006
An Open Letter to the Birthday Princess
I've read a lot of posts where people write lovely, funny and heart warming messages on their children's birthdays, or even just monthly recaps as their child reaches 23 months, 27 months, etc.
I've got the antidote to that right here. Check out the attitude on our darling oldest child at her birthday party this past weekend.
Now, to her credit, this is not her usual demeanor. She is a sweet child with a loving heart, a tad on the dramatic side, and full of funny. She cracks me up constantly. (For evidence, see my Sunday, May 21, 2006 post for stories about Em's amazing sense of humor)
However, on this particular day - she was either overtired or her little sister had just pushed her buttons or she was experiencing a little low-sugar induced mood alteration (or all 3).. and she was NOT a happy camper.
In fact, for all our planning and the fun (and expensive) treats we'd planned we were told angrily and tearfully that she was having the (and I quote) "WORST BIRTHDAY EVER!!!!!!". Honestly, after all the effort and expense.. it was a bit hard to hear that. It was hard to hear her complaints, because we knew it wasn't that the party was bad, it was that she couldn't stand that she got a "time out" during her own party.
And this is where I must write my birthday greeting to Princess Emma on the occasion of her 9th birthday...
Dear Em, Monkey Butt, Darling Girl,
This year marks the 8th year I have lit birthday candles on your cake. You have outgrown Teletubbies, Dinosaurs and even Barbie cakes. You have grown so tall and your feet are nearly the same size as mine. You are starting to care about your outfits and hair styles and yet... you are still a little girl.
You will hate me for pointing it out to you, but my dear, you are still your mother's, father's and mine to care for and to protect and cherish... and therefore we will continue to make your life miserable for at least the next 9 years, too.
We will continue to give you time outs, set limits and give you consequences, even during your birthday party.
You can scream, pinch, throw things and call us names - and you'll think your words aren't hitting their targets because we will remain calm and to repeat ourselves in a calm voice. (Or die trying to appear calm.)
However, we do this because we love you. We are trying to teach you so that as you grow into a beautiful young woman your heart and your actions will be as beautiful (or even more beautiful) than your long flowing blond hair and crystal blue eyes.
Despite the looks of this picture, I have real hope that even as a difficult teenager that the REAL contents of your heart will be powerfully beautiful. Even if you are, as you put it: "practically a pre-teenager".. I know that there are still times you'll want to crawl into my lap and be held.
Here is how I know you are growing up to be beautiful:
I see it in how you treat others when you think we're not watching. How you readily pitch in and help smaller children. I see in how you convict me to help total strangers - because you've noticed they need help even if I've been too busy to notice.
I see it in your generous heart. You give easily and constantly. You will extend a hand of friendship with any other child you encounter ---Em, you make friends as naturally as you breathe in and out.
I see it when you honestly just feel for other people. You call it like you see it: "That's just mean!" or "She should share that..." -- you're right, and it shows your heart is in the right place.
Em, even when you're telling me I'm an evil stepmother and even when you scream that you hate me - I know, deep down, that you love me... and I hope you always know that I love you. Always. No matter what. Even when I'm mad, sad or disappointed - even when I'm telling you to go take a time out. I still love you more than you can know.
And lastly, if I could have a wish for you - I'd wish that this actually WAS the worst birthday you ever have.. because then I know you'd be having some amazingly happy years ahead.
Much love,
Your evil stepmother
I've got the antidote to that right here. Check out the attitude on our darling oldest child at her birthday party this past weekend.
Now, to her credit, this is not her usual demeanor. She is a sweet child with a loving heart, a tad on the dramatic side, and full of funny. She cracks me up constantly. (For evidence, see my Sunday, May 21, 2006 post for stories about Em's amazing sense of humor)
However, on this particular day - she was either overtired or her little sister had just pushed her buttons or she was experiencing a little low-sugar induced mood alteration (or all 3).. and she was NOT a happy camper.
In fact, for all our planning and the fun (and expensive) treats we'd planned we were told angrily and tearfully that she was having the (and I quote) "WORST BIRTHDAY EVER!!!!!!". Honestly, after all the effort and expense.. it was a bit hard to hear that. It was hard to hear her complaints, because we knew it wasn't that the party was bad, it was that she couldn't stand that she got a "time out" during her own party.
And this is where I must write my birthday greeting to Princess Emma on the occasion of her 9th birthday...
Dear Em, Monkey Butt, Darling Girl,
This year marks the 8th year I have lit birthday candles on your cake. You have outgrown Teletubbies, Dinosaurs and even Barbie cakes. You have grown so tall and your feet are nearly the same size as mine. You are starting to care about your outfits and hair styles and yet... you are still a little girl.
You will hate me for pointing it out to you, but my dear, you are still your mother's, father's and mine to care for and to protect and cherish... and therefore we will continue to make your life miserable for at least the next 9 years, too.
We will continue to give you time outs, set limits and give you consequences, even during your birthday party.
You can scream, pinch, throw things and call us names - and you'll think your words aren't hitting their targets because we will remain calm and to repeat ourselves in a calm voice. (Or die trying to appear calm.)
However, we do this because we love you. We are trying to teach you so that as you grow into a beautiful young woman your heart and your actions will be as beautiful (or even more beautiful) than your long flowing blond hair and crystal blue eyes.
Despite the looks of this picture, I have real hope that even as a difficult teenager that the REAL contents of your heart will be powerfully beautiful. Even if you are, as you put it: "practically a pre-teenager".. I know that there are still times you'll want to crawl into my lap and be held.
Here is how I know you are growing up to be beautiful:
I see it in how you treat others when you think we're not watching. How you readily pitch in and help smaller children. I see in how you convict me to help total strangers - because you've noticed they need help even if I've been too busy to notice.
I see it in your generous heart. You give easily and constantly. You will extend a hand of friendship with any other child you encounter ---Em, you make friends as naturally as you breathe in and out.
I see it when you honestly just feel for other people. You call it like you see it: "That's just mean!" or "She should share that..." -- you're right, and it shows your heart is in the right place.
Em, even when you're telling me I'm an evil stepmother and even when you scream that you hate me - I know, deep down, that you love me... and I hope you always know that I love you. Always. No matter what. Even when I'm mad, sad or disappointed - even when I'm telling you to go take a time out. I still love you more than you can know.
And lastly, if I could have a wish for you - I'd wish that this actually WAS the worst birthday you ever have.. because then I know you'd be having some amazingly happy years ahead.
Much love,
Your evil stepmother
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Mr. Man
Michael put his cap on this way - I have the best movie of him laughing his deep chortle (he has a surprisingly low sounding belly-rumbling laugh for such a little kid) playing with this remote-control snake toy. 2 years old is such a great, fun age (most of the time).
Poor Greenie
I was rear-ended by an F-350 last night. Luckily no kids in the van at the time, and I'm just fine, too. Poor Greenie needs some fixin' though..
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
Another Proud Moment in Parenting...
I was working late when my office phone rang. Hubby, who has the kids with him, has driven to the airport to greet a German colleague who is in town. As frequently happens, the flight has been delayed, so hubby & kids had some time to kill.
Down south, near the airport, is the well known: "Mall of America" complex and it's newest big addition: IKEA. We have LOTS of IKEA furniture in our house, most of it from the Chicago IKEA.. bought and hauled 8+ hours north to our abode before the IKEA opened in our metro area.
Hubby decided to go to IKEA this evening with the kids, mainly because middle daughter suggested it would be a great place to have dinner while they wait for the guy's plane to arrive.
At this point I must explain that LAST weekend we tried to go to IKEA. We had a birthday party Saturday afternoon in the neighboring south metro suburb Eden Prairie and then decided a trip to IKEA would be good.
I was driving and en route to turning into the IKEA lot a car with Winnipeg plates got in the left lane and I in the right lane, and then once he figured out he'd chosen the wrong lane pulled directly in front of my van, cutting me off and forcing me to slam on the brakes to avoid a collision.
I gave the driver, who very nearly smacked the front of my minivan, a friendly "Hey, Welcome to Minnesota - please learn to obey the traffic laws" sort of greeting... the one finger salute. You know which finger I mean, right?
Well this driver, apparently not used to being called on his appalling driving skills decided he would then stop - and when I say stop, I mean stand on his brakes 10 yards short of the stop sign both our vehicles were approaching in a single lane (MY lane, that he'd cut into). This second test of my brakes pleased me not at all. Then the driver acted as if he was going to get out of his car. He opened his door and started to shout something I could not hear over the din of my air conditioning and screamining children. Just as I was about to go around him and proceed onwards, he closed his door and moved along.
Now I'm in a foul mood. Jeff is criticizing me for not yielding my lane without flipping off the other driver (it was MY lane, and he DID cut me off.. he should have stayed in the left lane, HIS lane..). But, whatever.
As we make our way in the parking garage I start to pull into a parking spot. Just as I'm easing forward, driving straight into the spot a car darts towards us on the left. I see it in my peripheral vision and pause, just to make sure they're not going to ram us. The other driver, a young 20ish woman, takes this pause on my part as her opportunity to slide into the parking spot, just narrowly missing the front of the minivan as she cuts, from the left, into the parking spot.
At first I am stunned into silence. The audacity! Then, almost automatically, the finger goes up. Jeff cannot fault me this time, she CLEARLY almost hit us taking OUR parking spot. So, he just picks on my flipping her off. As he chides me, it makes me even MORE angry. At this point we punt and leave IKEA without ever getting out of our car. I have NO desire to go there and be amongst such agressive icky people.. and now I'm pissed at Jeff, too.
Which brings us back to today... and my proud parenting moment.
Jeff calls and says: "Hey, guess what.. "
He goes on to tell me he went to IKEA with the kids, was on the cell phone talking to a Supplier (business call) and as soon as he pulls into the parking structure at IKEA our youngest (he's just turned 2) starts saying, clear as a bell:
"F%ck you. F%ck you. Mommy." Jeff swears (no pun intended)that he said this 3 times in a row.
Lovely. Just lovely.
Oh for shame. I'm such a crap mom sometimes.
Down south, near the airport, is the well known: "Mall of America" complex and it's newest big addition: IKEA. We have LOTS of IKEA furniture in our house, most of it from the Chicago IKEA.. bought and hauled 8+ hours north to our abode before the IKEA opened in our metro area.
Hubby decided to go to IKEA this evening with the kids, mainly because middle daughter suggested it would be a great place to have dinner while they wait for the guy's plane to arrive.
At this point I must explain that LAST weekend we tried to go to IKEA. We had a birthday party Saturday afternoon in the neighboring south metro suburb Eden Prairie and then decided a trip to IKEA would be good.
I was driving and en route to turning into the IKEA lot a car with Winnipeg plates got in the left lane and I in the right lane, and then once he figured out he'd chosen the wrong lane pulled directly in front of my van, cutting me off and forcing me to slam on the brakes to avoid a collision.
I gave the driver, who very nearly smacked the front of my minivan, a friendly "Hey, Welcome to Minnesota - please learn to obey the traffic laws" sort of greeting... the one finger salute. You know which finger I mean, right?
Well this driver, apparently not used to being called on his appalling driving skills decided he would then stop - and when I say stop, I mean stand on his brakes 10 yards short of the stop sign both our vehicles were approaching in a single lane (MY lane, that he'd cut into). This second test of my brakes pleased me not at all. Then the driver acted as if he was going to get out of his car. He opened his door and started to shout something I could not hear over the din of my air conditioning and screamining children. Just as I was about to go around him and proceed onwards, he closed his door and moved along.
Now I'm in a foul mood. Jeff is criticizing me for not yielding my lane without flipping off the other driver (it was MY lane, and he DID cut me off.. he should have stayed in the left lane, HIS lane..). But, whatever.
As we make our way in the parking garage I start to pull into a parking spot. Just as I'm easing forward, driving straight into the spot a car darts towards us on the left. I see it in my peripheral vision and pause, just to make sure they're not going to ram us. The other driver, a young 20ish woman, takes this pause on my part as her opportunity to slide into the parking spot, just narrowly missing the front of the minivan as she cuts, from the left, into the parking spot.
At first I am stunned into silence. The audacity! Then, almost automatically, the finger goes up. Jeff cannot fault me this time, she CLEARLY almost hit us taking OUR parking spot. So, he just picks on my flipping her off. As he chides me, it makes me even MORE angry. At this point we punt and leave IKEA without ever getting out of our car. I have NO desire to go there and be amongst such agressive icky people.. and now I'm pissed at Jeff, too.
Which brings us back to today... and my proud parenting moment.
Jeff calls and says: "Hey, guess what.. "
He goes on to tell me he went to IKEA with the kids, was on the cell phone talking to a Supplier (business call) and as soon as he pulls into the parking structure at IKEA our youngest (he's just turned 2) starts saying, clear as a bell:
"F%ck you. F%ck you. Mommy." Jeff swears (no pun intended)that he said this 3 times in a row.
Lovely. Just lovely.
Oh for shame. I'm such a crap mom sometimes.
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