Chronically Sleep Deprived

Okay. . .

2010-03-18T09:22:00.000-07:00

Adia just came to me with her doll.

"Mom, my doll is hungry."
"Ok, why don't you feed her?"
Adia, yanking up her shirt and pointing to her chest,"I don't have any milk. See? No milk!"

I am NOT breastfeeding a doll.

(She decided to "feed" the doll anyway. . .she put the doll's face to her chest for two seconds and declared the doll full. If only, sweetheart, if only.)

Why don't you blog more?

2010-02-05T06:13:00.000-08:00

You know, a couple of people I know have commented on my lack of blogging. I know, I suck lately. In my defense, I'll post a blog I wrote three weeks ago, detailing a Thursday:

Woke up at 6 am and nursed Dylan, who thankfully went back to sleep.

Over the course of the next several hours, I exercised (only for twenty minutes, but still), read my scriptures, showered and dressed, fixed breakfast for Adia and Trea and got them dressed, nursed Dylan, unloaded the dishwasher, washed the breakfast dishes and a few miscellaneous others, chatted with the neighbor who stopped by to pick up the moving boxes I offered her yesterday, washed, dried, and folded/hung up/put away three loads of laundry, nursed and changed Dylan, drew a horse for Adia, scheduled a doctor’s appointment for Dylan, called a lady about buying some cloth diapers, talked to my sister-in-law about plans for Sunday dinner, reorganized part of my kitchen, made Thai-style stir-fry for lunch and washed the dishes, put frozen lasagna roll-ups in the crockpot for John and the girls to eat for dinner, boxed up some empty glass jars and put them in the car to take to the recycling drop off, and nursed Dylan again.

Then I changed clothes, dropped Trea and Adia off at a babysitter's house around 4 and went to work.

At work, I prepared two-hour lesson plans for eight individual learning groups, wrote eight notes to the tutors, nursed Dylan again before John picked him up at 5:30, had a staff meeting, found a sub for the group whose tutor called out at the last minute, did a couple of intakes, pumped for Dylan, administered a test to gauge a student’s learning progress, and observed two groups.

Classes ended at 9, after which I prepared my lessons for next Tuesday and straightened up a little. I left around 10. I was going to stop at the store on the way home for a couple of things, but decided against it.

I got home at 10:30, cleared the remnants of dinner off the table, put the crock pot in the sink to soak, loaded the dishwasher, and started it.

Went to bed around 11. Dylan woke up an hour later and needed to nurse. Put him in bed with me so I could sleep while nursing.

And the reason I haven't posted this, even though I wrote it three weeks ago, is because it wasn't an especially busy day!

I do have a bunch of things rattling around in my head to blog about though, so I'll try to be more on top of it.

Answers to Questions

2009-12-06T12:17:00.000-08:00

A couple of people posted questions in the comments section of the last post, and I never know what to do about that. . .should I answer them in the comments? Will they check back?

So I'll answer them here.

Question 1: Is my midwife a guy?

Yes. His name is Pete. This caused a few double-takes on John's part, because we have a brother-in-law named Pete. It would throw him for a second when he came home from work and I'd tell him that Pete said my cervix was such-and-such. Pete is a great midwife though, very hands-off and not at all into interventions. I had to ask for my water to be broken, and scheduling the induction (that never happened) was my idea.

I did joke that ONCE AGAIN I had a healthcare provider who has never given birth - neither the female midwife who delivered Trea nor the female OB resident who delivered Adia had had children. And, since I had a male L & D nurse with Trea, and the nurse who assisted at Adia's birth did not have children, I was the only one in the room who had given birth. It irritated me a bit when they said, "You can do this!" I wanted to ask them how the &!#&! they would know, having never done it themselves! (I asked my L & D nurse this time around if she had kids, and she has one, and then I explained that at my first couple of births no one else did, and how I felt about it - and of course Pete chose that moment to grin and say, "You can do this!" I shot him the Look of Death.)

I originally had a female midwife, but she moved her practice to Park City about three months ago. She wanted me to follow her there. Ha! She was great and all, but are you kidding me? I'm not driving to Park City once a week for a month, and I'm DEFINITELY not driving to Park City while in labor - I HATE doing contractions in the car, you can't move around at all. Besides, as things turned out, if I'd had to drive another half an hour we would have really been cutting it close.

Question 2: What is SPD?

SPD is Symphysis Pubis Dysfunction. Basically, the body produces too much relaxin, and the hip joints start to separate. It hurts. A lot. Rolling over in bed was excrutiating, worse than all but the hardest contractions. Towards the end of my pregnancy, John would wince when I rolled over at night - because he could hear my hips grind and pop! Fortunately it has gotten a little bettter every day, and should be gone in the next month or so. It was one of the reasons I was considering the induction - it was painful to walk, to lay down, to get up, to roll over. I couldn't sleep at all, and I was just getting to the point where I wondered if I was even going to be able to cope with labor. . .SO GLAD that pregnancy is over!

Dylan is cute, though.

He's here!

2009-11-30T23:34:00.000-08:00

And he's now a week old, almost to the minute, as I post this.

I know it's pathetic that it's taken me this long to post, but I wanted to post a picture with it, and at first we didn't have access to a computer, then we'd forgotten the cable to connect the digital camera to the computer, then we left the camera at my in-laws' house. . .basically we're really unorganized.

Anyhow. This is a birth post, so skip it if you're squeamish or just bored by the details.

On Monday, Nov. 23, I went in for my last midwife appointment. I was four centimeters dilated, so I asked to have my membranes stripped. And, even though I am scared to death of being induced, we tentatively scheduled an induction for the next day. Even though the schedule was super busy - lots of women trying to have babies before the holiday - I had priority because I was a "medical" induction, being "sooo late" and all that. I wasn't even two weeks past my due date! They really would have flipped with Adia. . .

We went home, called John's dad, and asked him if he and Lorraine could take the girls for a few days. Luckily one of them was off work for each of the days we needed (my in-laws are both of retirement age, but continue to work because they get bored easily). We sent the girls off to Orem about 5 ish. Then we hung out and waited. I was having irregular, painless contractions off and on. Active labor kicked in at 10 pm, when I hopped on the treadmill for 10 minutes. I went upstairs and told John I was pretty sure I was in labor, and I was going to take a shower. I got in the shower at 10:20, and when I got out at 10:40 I told John to get ready to go. We left for the hospital at 11 and arrived at 11:30. At that time of night, security has to buzz you in. I walked in and the security guard greeted me and asked me where I was headed. I smiled and said "Guess!" He just laughed.

I get back to L & D, and start checking in when the receptionist recognizes my name. "But. . .you're on the schedule for tomorrow!" she says. Um, ok, but I'm in labor NOW. I explain that I had my membranes stripped and it worked, apparently. She comments that she "doesn't know WHY they do that, it hurts." And possibly having an induction with Pitocin would feel better than the 20 seconds it took to have my membranes stripped? Whatever.

So, I get a room, get changed into a gown, and the nurse checks me. I'm almost 8 centimeters. Good, I think, I'm probably in transition (I'm shaky and nauseated) or pretty close to it. They call my midwife and tell him to come in. For the next 45 minutes, I sit in a rocking chair trying to breath through contractions and occasionally throwing out smart aleck remarks (I distinctly remember asking my midwife if he knew any good urologists. He said yes, did I need one? I jerked my head towards John and said "HE needs a vasectomy!" My midwife calmly says,"Would you like to do that now?")

At some point a guy comes in and starts talking about a blood draw. I was having HARD contractions 3 minutes apart, and this guy wants to draw MY blood? I believe my exact words were, "No FREAKING way!" I must have said it rather, um, emphatically, because John later told me that the guy and the two ladies behind him (no idea what they were doing) all stopped short and backed out of the room. Seriously, I realize there's hospital policy and all but that was NOT a good time.

At 12:15 I decide I am really tired of the hard contractions, and discouraged because I don't feel like pushing at all. So I ask the midwife to break my water. He checks me, and I'm almost 9 centimeters. Then he breaks my water. He mentions that I could probably push if I want to, and I say no. The nurse tries to encourage me to push, and I tell her no. Then another contraction hits, and suddenly I'm thinking maybe I DO want to push. John helped me get into a kneeling/hands and knees position, and within a few minutes I'm really feeling like I need to push. Baby was born at 12:40 am, less than three hours after my first "real" contractions and about 15 minutes after I first started pushing. I had one small tear that needed a couple of stitches but nothing else. The placenta, interestly enough, did not look at all post-dates; according the midwife it was a very healthy placenta.

Dylan Xavier was 8 lbs, 4 oz, and 21.5 inches long. He came out protesting loudly, but is really a sweet baby. Trea and Adia LOVE him (for now. . .wait until the novelty wears off). He has nursed really well from the beginning.

I still have some symptoms from the SPD I had during pregnancy, but other than that I feel fine. I still say I would repeat any of the three labors multiple times if I could just skip the first half of the pregnancy.

I am so glad Dylan is HERE, and so glad not to be pregnant anymore!

Don't get all excited

2009-11-04T21:04:00.000-08:00

I haven't had the baby boy yet.

But, five years ago today, I gave birth to Trea. And I just want to say, she still amazes me. She's so smart, and fun, and observant, and headstrong. She made me sick as a dog for months on end and put me through 12.5 hours of labor, but she was so totally worth it.

Happy Birthday Trea!

Birthdays

2009-09-13T22:10:00.000-07:00

Happy Birthday to my sister Erin!

Today is also the birthday of Edina, a lady who lives in our apartment complex and attends our congregation. She's 102 today. She's one of those people who makes getting old seem completely doable - she's still independent and able to drive, she goes dancing, she's sharp mentally. She jokes that she robbed the cradle when she married her current husband - he's her fourth or fifth (she was widowed each time, no divorces) and still in his 90s.

Funny story about her - she was single when we lived here before going to Thailand, then when we moved back I noticed she was always with this guy. So I asked a friend for the scoop. Apparently they met, dated, and got married in very short order (like a few months). When they announced their engagement, their children (who are all in their 60s and 70s) expressed some concern over the rushed timeline. Edina's response? "We don't have time to waste!"

And really, at that age, if you like being around him, what's the big deal? It's not like you need to worry about his ability to provide, or his parenting philosophy, or how great the chemistry is. If he's good company and does his share of the dishes, you're good.

So happy birthday to Edina too!

BYU Wins!

2009-09-05T23:44:00.000-07:00

Did you see that game??? Who would have guessed. . .the funniest part was right after the game ended, when one of the announcers, in mild shock, said, "Gosh. . .or whatever they say in Provo."

The phrase you are looking for is "Oh my heck!"

It's okay, tell me what you REALLY think. . .

2009-09-02T11:45:00.000-07:00

A couple weeks ago, we went out to dinner with Ashely and Erin and their families. I decided to put a little effort into my appearance for the occasion. I flat-ironed my hair, put on makeup, my best maternity shirt, the whole bit. . .

Trea watched all this preparation with great interest, then looked up with wide eyes and said, "Wow, Mommy, you look almost pretty!"

I'll take what I can get.

I haven't really dropped off the face of the earth. . .

2009-08-17T12:23:00.000-07:00

I have been a really bad blogger. So let me hit some important points really quick:

1. We are having a boy. The doctor who did the ultrasound said he looked "perfect." I was very happy to hear that; I didn't really have any concrete reason to worry, but I was not taking vitamins or eating especially healthy when I conceived this kid, so it was nice that he managed to develop anyway. I'm only throwing up every two-three weeks now, too!

2. John's job is going well. I can't remember if I mentioned it, but he was assigned to be the eco-care person in his office a while back; it's his job to coordinate/spearhead environmental awareness and iniatives in his office. He has become just a tad obsessive. I used to be the one harping on recycling and whatnot, now he is bringing home trash from family gatherings to make sure it gets recycled. He can't wait to have a house with a yard so he can compost and garden.

3. Speaking of which. . .we may be homeowners by this time next month. It all depends on the whims of the probate court in Utah, the efficiency of the sellers and sellers' agent involved, and whether Saturn aligns with Mars. I'll keep you updated.

We have had a restful but unexciting summer. That's mostly my fault, because I just haven't felt like dealing with heat or travel or anything else requiring a lot of energy. That's all right though, we'll make up for it next summer.

I am tired of. . .

2009-05-17T12:47:00.000-07:00

being exhausted all the time, and having zero energy
evaluating every food on 1) the likelihood it will make me gag 2) how bad it will be coming up
feeling like a load of laundry is a monumental task
the abdominal pain that feels nearly constant
telling my kids "sorry, not today" when they want to play outside
feeling like everything - the house, my calling at church, my job, my kids - gets less of me than they need

Basically, I'm tired of being pregnant. It'll pass . . . in about six months.

Remember the last time. . .

2009-04-22T09:05:00.000-07:00

I took a really long break from blogging? Back when I was first pregnant with Adia?

Remember what I said in my last post? (Go ahead, scroll down and cheat. . .second paragraph of the post before this one.)

Yep.

Due November 13th. Trea is convinced of three things: I'm having twins, they are boys, and we should name them Jacob and . . . Tarzan.

If I spent half the time posting as I do reading. . .

2009-03-06T20:28:00.001-08:00

I'd blog a WHOLE lot more.

I've been sick. The kids have been sick. We were supposed to go to North Carolina this week, but Trea managed to catch the flu (and distinguish herself as the first patient the doctor had seen, who managed to get the A strain of influenza despite receiving a flu vaccine). We cancelled the trip, and I'm relieved because they would have been miserable. Might as well be miserable at home.

Work has been crazy, not because of the actual work, but because our office is apparently cursed. My boss and one of my co-workers have both been diagnosed with serious medical conditions - one curable, the other chronic but treatable. I'm afraid I'm going to develop a brain tumor, or get pregnant or something. (I think I'd rather have the brain tumor, frankly; being pregnant with Adia was the most miserable experience of my life. The tumor can be cut out, usually, and no one expects me to be happy about having it.)

Sorry, I'm in a bad mood. I shouldn't post when I'm in a bad mood. Writing the above is a guaranteed to result in my being pregnant and feeling guilty about what I wrote. Watch and see.

Ok, good news . . . well, I've gotten good news from family members but it's theirs to announce, not mine.

Ah, I know! Silvia. Silvia is the student I posted about a few months ago, whose husband had been deported. She has been desperately holding her family together, providing childcare to five small children to pay the bills, caring for her two school-aged children, and coming to class twice a week. She downloaded all the questions on to MP3 player, and listened to it every chance she got. She carried flashcards around with her. She basically lived and breathed the test 24/7.

On Feb. 20, she took her citizenship test - wearing a locket engraved with her husband's name and their wedding date - and she PASSED!

I got to go with her, and watch, and she didn't miss a question. She totally rocked it. She had studied SO incredibly hard. I was so proud of her. I didn't dare even congratulate her in the test, because the examiner had made me swear to be quiet, but once we left the test she gave me a huge, long hug. She was shaking, she'd been so nervous. It's incredibly good news for her family though - now she can apply to sponsor her husband. She can get her family back in one piece. Her sons were so thrilled and proud of her - they made her promise to come to school and tell them. She walked into the classroom, and her son shot her the "Well?" look; she nodded, and he went said "Really?" "Yes."

"TEACHER! TEACHER! My mama passed her test! She is a citizen!"

Yes, she is. And she totally earned it.

So, one more thing, to end on a funny note. Trea was watching Star Wars III with John the other day. As John has noted, watching dramatic movies with a four-year-old instantly transforms them into comedies. Unintentional humor, to be sure, but humor nonetheless. So, they're watching a light saber battle, and Trea says, "I need one of those, so I can fight the bad guys."

Um, ok.

Then, she's watching Jedi knights, and observes to John, "I think it's Halloween there."

Finally, during the last scene of the movie, when the Jedis are dropping off Luke Skywalker with his aunt and uncle in the desert, she gets all excited and tells John, "Look, she's pretending to be Mary and he's pretending to be Joseph!"

They do look a lot like a nativity scene, you know.

A Book Review

2009-02-08T00:27:00.000-08:00

I've never done a book review on my blog before; that may be because, even though I LOVE to read, I rarely have time to read much these days. But, this one is worth it. It's The Power of Babel: A Natural History of Language by John Mcwhorter, and it's awesome. Like languages? Looking for a little intellectual stimulation? (Amy, I'm smiling at you here!) This is your book. The author is amazing, I wish I knew half what he does about language and how it works, and he uses all these cool obscure languages as examples of how gender works and what classifiers do. It's taken me a long time to read it (I keep having to re-read things to follow) but that doesn't mean it would be as hard for someone more intelligent or less sleep deprived. Totally worth the effort though. I'm not even done and already I'm endorsing it!

For you non-language geeks. . .um, I got nothing for ya. Maybe next month?

Stuff and more stuff

2009-02-01T21:35:00.000-08:00

Have you seen The Story of Stuff? If not, it's worth the 20 minutes. It's a little preachy at times (I don't buy into the whole "the GOVERNMENT is supposed to protect us! It's not our fault we were deceived! thing), but also very thought provoking.

Warning: it may completely ruin Wal-mart for you forever. I haven't set foot in Wal-mart since I watched it two months ago.

Proof the new Naturalization test is too hard

2009-01-16T23:06:00.000-08:00

Last week, one of my tutors was out sick. Happens all the time, sometimes I combine groups and sometimes I can get a sub. This group, though, is studying for the citizenship test, and one of the students has a test date next month so I really wanted her to have all the instructional time she could possibly have. As luck would have it, several of my students weren't able to come and that freed up one of my other tutors. Dan just happens to be a professor of political science. Could you ask for a more perfect tutor for a citizenship group? I think not.

Only he didn't know all the answers to the questions. He guessed wrong on more than one.

So. . .how many of you could pass the U.S. citizenship test? Here are some questions students have to know:

What is one right or freedom from the First Amendment?
How many amendments does the Constitution have?
What are two rights in the Declaration of Independence?
What is the economic system in the United States?
What is the rule of law?
Who is one of your state's U.S. Senators now?
The House of Representatives has how many voting members?
Name your U.S. representative.
What does the President's Cabinet do?
Who is the Chief Justice of the United States now?
What is one power of the federal government?
What is one power of the states?
Who wrote the Declaration of Independence?
Name three of the 13 original states.
When was the Constitution written?
Name one writer of the Federalist Papers.
Who was President during World War I?
Name one state that borders Canada.
Name one state that borders Mexico.

Ok, so it's really not THAT hard. There's 100 questions to study, they are asked ten of them, they have to get six right. There's also a reading and writing test, and they have to speak English well enough to answer all the questions posed to them about their family, personal and work history, etc. (and that can get very complicated if you're a refugee and have no idea where members of your family are, or if they're even alive, and have been bounced around several different countries).

Still, I think some of these are a bit nitpicky. So tell me, how many can you answer - without Googling?

You might live in Utah if. . .

2009-01-10T20:53:00.001-08:00

You go to your company's (or, in my case, my spouse's company's) rather posh Christmas party, held in a venue with a beautiful view, and the open bar runs out of . . . . Sprite.

We have lousy carma

2008-12-29T21:48:00.000-08:00

We made it six years. We've really tried to avoid this, but it's inevitable. Six years of marriage, and all the juggling, hand-wringing, and long discussions to work things out, and we can't avoid it any longer.

We're getting a car payment.

John totalled our car on the way to work day after Christmas. The roads were bad; he took his usual exit off the freeway and the car in front of him fishtailed, then stopped. He'd left a lot of distance between them but it wasn't enough considering she just stopped suddenly. We actually had the body shop do an estimate on the repairs. $7,998 - and he stressed that that was by no means final, since there was a lot of damage and he couldn't see parts of the engine clearly. Definitely a total loss.

I tried to convince John to go car-free for a while. I thought it would be an interesting social experiment, not to mention that it would save us over $400 a month (including a car payment, gas, insurance, maintenance, registration, etc.) I tried to bribe him with a new camera; no go. I don't know that I could really go without a car for 6-9 months - it would be really inconvenient - but it would have been interesting to try. I suppose I could just see how long I can go without driving, but I'm not really motivated to inconvenience myself without the reward of saving money.

So.

We bought a car today. It should be a good car, and I think we got a fair deal. The loan has a low interest rate. I HATE knowing that I am paying interest on something that is depreciating in value, but I like having a stereo and power locks that work.

And since we're fairly convinced that our other car was cursed, it's just as well that it's gone.

Right? Right.

Funny Odds and Ends

2008-12-12T23:49:00.000-08:00

#1
Last night at work, my more advanced students read an adapted version of the O. Henry story, "The Gift of the Magi." As you may recall, it's the story of a young, poor couple, Della and Jim, who each sell their most prized possession to buy a Christmas present for the other person. They discover in the end that their gifts are useless, as he sold his watch to buy combs for her hair and she sold her hair to buy a chain for his watch.

So, my students are reading along, and the tutor asked John (my forty-something Korean student) to read the characters' dialogue. John starts reading, and he used this very high, very dainty voice for Della and a very deep, manly voice for Jim. It was very, very funny to hear "Oh, Jim, you still like me, don't you? I'm still me, aren't I?" coming from a Korean man reading in a girly voice with a thick Korean accent. The other students were nearly rolling on the floor. I so wish I'd had a tape recorder.

#2
I'm trimming chicken Thursday morning, getting ready to stick it in the freezer, when Trea drags over a kitchen chair and climbs up to supervise. She observes me cutting chicken fat off the breasts with my shears for several moments, then comments, "Girl, you're fast!"

Why thank you.

#3

This actually happened a while back, but it was pretty funny. We've decided to start giving Trea a tiny allowance and teaching her about tithing. So, Sunday morning comes, and I give her ten dimes. Then I explain that we are going to take one dime and give it the bishop of our church so that he can help people. And she says, "Mommy, you can give all my dimes to the bishop to help people." I'm getting all misty-eyed and choked up over how adorable and generous she is, when John walks over and ruins it. "Trea," he says, "that's money. You can use it to buy stuff."

"Oh," Trea responds as she pulls back her dimes. "Well, I need it to buy a Barbie Dream Castle."

#4

Talked to the detective in charge of the Case of the Stolen Car the other day. He got a fingerprint and has a suspect he is looking for. The guy's name is Justice.

John has long had a theory that giving your child a "virtue" name - Hope, Charity, etc. - guarantees they will be the exact opposite. Which is why he won't ever let me name a baby Chastity. Or Justice.

#5
Adia is very funny, but it's not the type of thing that translates well into writing. We are endlessly amused by her attempts to sing, to boss Trea, and to generally make her wishes known. I often get the feeling that she is using language just to see if it works (if I say drink, they get me water! That's cool! Wonder if it will happen again. . . .it did! Wow. I'll have to remember that next time I'm actually thirsty).

I also get the feeling that she is certain she has been talking for months, and the tall idiots in the house have finally started to acquire language.

I have a brilliant idea

2008-12-11T21:16:00.000-08:00

Outsourcing is a problem for our economy, right? So, let's start saving the U.S. government and the states some money with outsourcing. We can start with prisons. Anyone committed of a crime with a sentence of, oh, more than 2 years (subject to a cost-benefit analysis, but I think that is a long enough sentence to offset the cost of the plane ticket) gets sent to prison in a developing country. Thailand comes to mind. We'll pay them slightly more than the cost of actually maintaining the prisons; given what I've heard about Thai prisons, and the much lower cost of labor and food, we'll still save boatloads of cash. Maybe we can arrange some prisons in Spanish-speaking countries, or African nations. The prisoners would come back bilingual! Maybe we'll make it so they only have to spend a couple of years there, and then they can apply to finish their sentences here and take advantage of educational and vocational training programs, since I do think that is important. Still, it's a win-win. We'll save money and the host countries will make money.

And honestly, I think most American prisons are a little too comfortable. This program, though, will be reserved for multiple offenders, or those convicted of truly heinous crimes (rapists, pedophiles, murderers, etc.)

I think I should write my representatives. Who's with me?

What Happened

2008-11-25T10:07:00.000-08:00

So, Saturday night I got home around 6. Made dinner, put the kids to bed, decided I was too exhausted to go to the work-related function I'd planned to attend (Saturday was crazy busy). John and I watched some TV and went to bed.

Sunday, we headed out the door to go to Church, which starts at one, and the car was gone. Trea noticed first - she turned around and asked John where the car was. He thought she was joking. Then we looked up and realized it was not in our parking space. We filed a police report and still made it to part of church. The detective who took the report said all we could was wait; most cars turned up in a few days, sometimes wrecked, sometimes not.

We only carry liability insurance on the car, so there wasn't any help coming from that direction (the car's old and paid for, it would be ridiculous to pay for comprehensive). We never really made an effort to lock it, because the automatic locks are broken, we are lazy, and for real, who steals a 12-year-old car with no stereo?

Sunday morning at 1:15 am, I get a call that they've found the car. Thing is, they want me to go meet the police officers right then. Um, ok, we only have one car, the busses aren't running all that frequently at that hour (if at all? I'm still not sure) and if I don't go get it, the car gets towed and impounded. Which means I'd have to pay a whole lot of money to get it back. Turns out, it's only a little over a mile away, so I walked. I was almost there when a cop pulled up and gave me a ride the rest of the way (which is how I ended up in the backseat of a police car at 1:30 am. It is really, really cramped back there. I feel sorry for tall criminals.) When we got there, there were no less than four cops just sitting around - why one of them couldn't have picked me up, I'll never know.

So, the funny thing is, the car wasn't really abandoned - at least it didn't look like they intentionally abandoned it. A security guard for the apartment complex had noticed it idling (yes, they left it running, and the cops didn't even think to turn it off). He checked with the resident who was assigned that space, who said the car wasn't his, and then he called the cops. It was a good thing too, because I think they were leaving town, and we'd never have gotten it back. There was a Gatorade bottle in the cupholder, a woman's bag in the back seat, and two suitcases in the trunk. The bag and the suitcases were stuffed - there were even prescription bottles. They dusted for prints and took the suitcases and stuff back to the crime lab hoping to get a print. The cops think the people who stole it probably just stopped to get something from an apartment and then were taking off. I haven't heard anything from them yet but I really, really hope they catch someone. I'm not normally a vindictive or revengeful person but this time I would love to see someone pay. They took the kids' carseats - which sucked because they are not cheap to replace - but that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was the look on Trea's face when I told her the carseat was gone (it came up and I couldn't avoid telling her); I think she just had this moment where she realized Mom and Dad didn't have control over this. Not that I think she's traumatized or anything, but she was genuinely upset and it made me really angry that at 4, she had to experience that.

So, car's back, we have new carseats, and all is well.

I have a very exciting story. . .

2008-11-24T01:38:00.000-08:00

and it involves me in the back of a police car at 1:30 am, but right now I'm exhausted so it will have to wait.

This is my one hundredth post

2008-11-16T23:59:00.000-08:00

So I should probably say something profound.

Hmm, I got nothing.

So. Saturday night we splurged and ordered Thai take-out from the place up the street. The guy who owns it is SO nice, very friendly, he's Thai and his wife is Cambodian, and their food is awesome. I was eating Massaman curry when Adia walked over and made her "um, um" sounds, which means "I want a bite." I told her it was hot. She insisted. I gave her a teeny bit of curry with some rice, and waited for her to spit it out.

Nope. She ate it. And asked for more.

Adia loves spice. She won't eat ground beef without some taco seasoning on it. She won't eat bland scrambled eggs. I wonder if the flavor of food a pregnant woman eats affects the amniotic fluid? Hmmm.

Trea, on the other hand, does not even like black pepper. But, aside from an aversion to spicy foods, she's a really good eater. She'll try almost anything, and she eats most of the things I cook on a regular basis.

I'm not sure how I got lucky with good eaters, since I was the world's pickiest child. I outgrew it, though.

We're getting portraits done tomorrow. I need Trea and Adia to cooperate, look at the camera, and smile at the same time. Wish me luck.

Everything but the kitchen sink

2008-11-10T20:59:00.001-08:00

I always mean to post, then I get busy, then I try to post in a logical, organized way. . .and it's just too hard. I do NOT have time to live my life and record it in an orderly fashion. So, here's the latest.

The Kids

Adia is just a little over 20 lbs. She talks CONSTANTLY (she knows somewhere around 50 words). She learned to say "trick or treat" REALLY fast. I think she, like Trea last year, thought we had been holding out on her. All you have to do is knock and say "trick or treat" and you get candy??? She is most definitely a toddler - we hear "no" a lot. She's part monkey, and gets in to everything. My house is always a mess and it's mostly her fault. She's also super cute when she is being affectionate, and tonight she said "I love you" to me without any prompting at all. Her favorite song is "I'm Bringing Home My Baby Bumblebee." She tries to sing along.

Trea is cute, and a drama queen. No idea where she got that. She says a lot of very funny things. The other day, we got off the bus, and the bus driver lowered it for us. It makes a hissing sound, and Trea turns to me to announce "Mom, the bus has GAS!" I don't think the bus driver heard her. She also has her very own special version of "Called to Serve." It goes something like this:

Called to serve him, every king of glory
Joseph, Mary, something something name

She loves to sing, even if she has to make up the words. She loves going to the library for storytime, and she loves her once-a-week swim lesson with her cousin.

Work

My forty-something Korean student, John, who is very serious looking, told me the other night that he is "down with that." He's been learning English from his 15-year-old again. It totally cracked me up.

One of my tutors gave me the nicest compliment a week ago. She told me that she thought I was much better than my predecessor. To be fair, the previous specialist was balancing two jobs and single motherhood, but it still made me feel good. I told my tutor that it really meant a lot to me; I have only a bachelor's and the other teacher has a master's, so I was intimidated by taking over for her. And then the tutor said "It's not the degree, it's the commitment." And I almost teared up. I'm just really glad it shows, you know? Because I really put a lot into my lessons, and try new things, and even if they don't always work the way I planned, the effort is there. And I'm glad she can tell. She said it made her feel like trying more, too.

That said, work occasionally drives me a little batty. The problem with volunteers is that you have to be really careful with how you correct them. So when they ignore your carefully planned lesson and do what they THINK you want done, instead of reading the instructions, it can be frustrating. But you can't just rip into them about READING THE FREAKIN' LESSON PLAN. You have to be nice, and tactful. And then come vent on the blog.

Other

John has a new calling - he's assistant ward clerk over finances. It's perfect for him - a few hours a week, no need to organize other people. His work is planning layoffs. Only 2-3%, but still. We're hoping that his lack of seniority will actually help, since it's much cheaper to keep him than some of the other people who have been there a long time. If they go strictly by seniority then we may have to find him a new job. I think we'll be ok with our savings, food storage, my job, and whatever severance or unemployment he's able to get.

So that's it.

I think the word I am looking for is "memorable"

2008-11-04T23:06:00.000-08:00

Happy birthday to Trea! She's four, and so cute and fun (most of the time). We had a pretty normal day but the fun started when Dad got home from work. She decorated her own cake and unwrapped her gifts, and generally had a good time. I'll post pictures tomorrow.

And the election! Wow. Did you see Obama's speech? Did you notice the call-and-response type moments? Interesting. I'm excited that he won - I also have a little bit of an "what have we DONE?" feeling. He's unproven. I hope he can deliver.

Very exciting day.

53 weeks later

2008-10-20T20:13:00.001-07:00

So, a week AFTER the one-year anniversary of us coming home, I'm finally getting around to blogging about it. There are days when I have to remind myself that I really did live in a foreign country for nearly 18 months; it seems so long ago. There are days when a certain smell or sound will bring back a crush of memories, and I wish I were still in Khon Kaen, lying in a huge bed, cuddling with Adia, Trea, and John, while listening to the rain pounding the roof. There are still times, mostly when I'm doing the dishes, when I feel a profound gratitude for things like air conditioning and hot, clean water. I still get giddy about my dishwasher and four-burner stove (with an OVEN!) and the shiny new energy-efficient washer/dryer. I'm grateful for all the modern conveniences and grateful that I know I can live without them (not without some whining, but still, I can cope).

And I really, really miss my friends. Nit Noi, Nok, Ged, and Earn, who made going to church worthwhile. They always made an effort to talk to me - at first they just said hi, and then, as they got brave enough to speak English, we got to be friends. Nit Noi has a son who will turn two this month, and we used to commandeer one room of the church building and make it the nursery. We spent a lot of Sundays sitting on the floor of that room, nursing and talking. Nok always held Adia for me. Ged was sweet and friendly and, once she got over being scared, spoke English much better than she gave herself credit for. Earn spoke the least amount of English but never let it stop her from participating in any conversation. It was Earn who told us patiently explained to us how to catch the lizard we knew was in our kitchen (the big one that kept pooping on the counter); we never did see him, but I will never forget hearing Earn explain that she already had one lizard skinned and frozen in the freezer at the church . . . There's only ice in our church freezer now.

I miss our neighbors too. The old lady next door, who was soooo friendly and nosy too :). Teacher Jaw, our neighbor across the street, who babysat Trea and took care of both girls, at different times, while I was teaching. Teacher Jaw was the Thai grandma my girls never had. She and our next-door neighbor used to eat dinner together several times a week, and sometimes Teacher Mam, Teacher Jaw's sister, would come, and other women I didn't know. Teacher Jaw always talked to me (as though if she said it slowly enough I'd get it eventually, and sometimes I caught a word or two. Mostly John interpreted). It's strange that I felt more of a sense of community there, where I couldn't hold a real conversation with anyone, than I do here. I don't even know the names of our neighbors across the hall. I rarely see any of our neighbors, and no one lingers outside on the porch, let alone cooking and eating for hours at a time.

That said, I am glad we came back. They are getting stricter with their immigration regulations, and making it harder for teachers to get licensed. I didn't like having to work under the table, and yet I couldn't get sponsored for a proper license. I don't miss driving in the crazy traffic, and it's kind of nice to be able to talk to people in my own language. This is my country, and my comfort zone, and it's . . . comfortable.

We'll always be glad we went. I don't think I would have my job if I didn't have that experience, and it helps me relate to my students. John doubts he would have gotten his job without going to Thailand - it set him apart, and his boss knew, from her own experiences living abroad, that it takes a certain adaptability and patience.

And it was great fodder for stories. Lots of stories, to tell Trea and Adia, and someday we'll take them back and show them where it all happened.