Boy Wonder

Three Years + New Blog

2011-07-17T05:02:00.000-07:00

Hello my dear faithful readers. It's July 17th, which for me always means two things: it's Disneyland's birthday (Happy Birthday Happiest Place on Earth!), and it's the anniversary of this here little blog, Boy Wonder. For three years I've used this space to chronicle the everyday events of my two boys, Nathan and Benjamin, and to write about my experiences as their mother and parenting in general.

I started this blog on a whim one night when my husband was travelling for work in Canada and missing his family as much as we were missing him. I'd just spent the afternoon with some girlfriends who are avid scrapbookers. I felt completely left out of their conversation because despite considering myself an artist (my mediums are the stage, the written word, and textiles), I've never been able to work up any enthusiasm for making scrapbooks. I value creativity above almost everything else, yet those few times when I sat down to try, surrounded by supplies and creative friends, I'd stare at my blank page and stack of photos, then the clock, then the blank page and feel a failure. But the idea behind scrapbooking? A place to tell stories and document milestones? I can totally get behind that. As someone whose childhood documents and belongings were completely destroyed my freshman year of high school (in a story so bizarre and nearly unbelievable it deserves it's own post), I recognized that taking the time to pause and record these every day moments could be very valuable for the boys and their father who was missing so many of them because of his crazy schedule. I figured a blank screen would be less intimidating than a blank page, and voilà! Boy Wonder was born.

The boys in July 2008 when Boy Wonder began - so little!

One thing I've tried to do is keep it about the boys and things that pertain to them or my experience as it relates to them. For the most part, I try not to go off on tangents about things that have nothing to do with them (I spill most of the rest of my life on Facebook). I've been pretty honest and transparent, and wrote about the highs as well as the lows, the joys and the frustrations. And though I was writing for an audience of my husband, the boys' relatives, and the future grown-up versions of Nathan and Ben (gulp), I managed to collect a whole bunch of other readers along the way. I'm not one to check or even think about stats, but when I recently saw the "stats" button on Blogger and clicked it, I was amazed to see the reach of this blog! Same thing when I signed on to see the people who have subscribed via email. It doesn't automatically notify me when someone subscribes, I had to go digging to see that Boy Wonder is filling the in-boxes of a whole bunch of people out there. I'm amazed and astounded and a little bit humbled, especially by some recent emails from people I've never met that were filled with such kind encouragement and sweet words. Wow. I'm blown away. So with that, I have two things to tell you.

The first is simply thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for coming along on this little side project that has done a lot toward keeping me sane on this bumpy road of parenting and marriage and family. Unlike so many little girls out there, I never spent my childhood days pretending to be a little mommy, and I didn't spend my teen years longing to get married and have a baby. And though it wasn't a long held dream of mine, every day I am filled with gratitude (though some days it's through clenched teeth) that my path in life has included being a mother. So thank you for reading along, especially when there are other blogs out there that make parenting look easy-breezy!

The second thing I want to tell you is I've started a brand new blog. With our life transitioning to Macau for the next several years, I really felt like I needed a space that wasn't completely about the boys, something that could stand alone, telling the story of this period in our life. And I didn't just want to take a hard left turn with this blog, making it something completely different than what I'd originally intended. Which isn't to say that I'm going to completely abandon Boy Wonder. There are many stories that I'll still want to record here, particularly the boys' own reflections about living here (their review so far? Two thumbs WAY up). So with that, here is your personal invitation to join me over at my new blog, Wandering Macau. Go ahead and add it to your reader, bookmark it, subscribe via email, or just check back often. Because I'll be filling it with everything Macau-related. And though Macau is only about 11 square miles, it has centuries of history contained in every square foot. And I'm going to explore it all. So come join me, without ever leaving home! And if you do happen to leave home and come our direction, please look us up. We'll explore together!

Hey friends! We're off Wandering Macau! Come join us!

Goodbye, America

2011-07-09T23:32:00.000-07:00

Wow. What a whirlwind the last ten days have been. Everything got done thanks to a lot of hard work and the incredible people that I call friends. We're staying at a very nice hotel by LAX, soaking up the last few hours before we jump on the 6 a.m. airport shuttle and begin 24 straight hours of travel, ending up in our new home in Macau.

Today our friends threw a huge going away party at a local park, and nearly 100 friends and family members came to see us off. There will be photos and more later, but right now my eyes are crossing with weariness and we still have to repack the carry-ons to make sure we get out the liquids and such. Good times.

So this is goodbye for now, see you again from the other side of the world!

72 Days Without Michael: Together!

2011-06-30T23:01:00.000-07:00

Cell phone pic in the airport, taken by Nathan, lots of happy tears.

The boys tackled Michael before he reached the bottom of the escalator!

Quick stop by home (we're only a couple miles from LAX) for a quick costume change and a brush of teeth, then off to the Happiest Place on Earth to celebrate Benjamin's birthday (yay!), Michael's return (yay!), and the day our Annual Passes expire (boo!).

Ben's birthday booty: Daddy home from Macau, Trip to Disneyland, Lovable Ewok, Chernabog button (tiny circle on letter N on his shirt), oversized green Disneyland watch he's been asking for, Mario Bros Hat, and a couple other things he can't open until tomorrow since everyone passed out on the drive home. Happy 8th Birthday Ben!

Ben's Birthday Lunch/Dinner request: Monte Cristo Sandwich from Cafe Orleans, right across from the Blue Bayou. They're less expensive there, and you get to sit outside and watch the people walk by. Good choice Ben!

Me and my boy Nathan, eating lunch.

Daddy and Ben at lunch.

Michael, sound asleep sitting up after finishing lunch. Jet lag rears it's ugly face!
And nearly made Michael fall face-first into his grapes!

Our very last ride at the Disneyland Resort: The Twilight Zone Tower of Terror. Ben has been super scared to go on it, but promised me a couple weeks ago that he would be willing to try when Daddy was home. It's a free fall attraction where you fall down 13 stories multiple times while seated in a freight elevator. Have I mentioned that our home in Macau is in a high rise building which we'll access by riding an elevator? Please God do not let either kid develop a fear of elevators now! We'll be in so much trouble!

Our final photo at Disneyland, California, right at the exit. I'm crying.

Disneyland is my happy place, filled with a lifetime of memories from my own childhood, my days working there, Michael working there, and a wonderful place to share with our own children. It has been such a great family bonding activity for us over the last few years while we've had passes. Sure, we'll come back, but these days with Nathan and Benjamin being this age and still a little awed by the Disney Magic will be over before we do. So my tears were for the passing of this season, and for the realization that over the next nine days we'll be faced with a string of goodbyes.

I've been so looking forward to today's "Hello" that I didn't even think about the "Goodbyes" that now follow.

Favorite

2011-06-28T20:03:00.000-07:00

Every time we move, I tend to fill up a box or two with framed photos that never get unpacked. I generally choose new photos to frame and put up in the new digs. There are a few that always get unpacked, like our wedding photo and my trio of photos with me and my babies (baby Nathan, baby Benjamin, and my baby brother). But for the most part, I've ended up with several boxes of framed photographs that move from house to house with us. Instead of moving them as is and paying to keep them in storage, I'm going through them and pulling out the pics to save, and setting aside the frames to give away. During this boring and nail-breaking task, I came across this photo that was in the entryway of our last house.

I always make a little squealing noise when I see it. Of all the many photos of Michael with his boys, this is my favorite. Look at those tiny boys, aged 4 and 2! Look at Ben's curls! Look at all those baby teeth in their smiles! Look at my handsome husband (without a single gray hair)! Squeee!

This was taken at Disney's Hollywood Hotel at Hong Kong Disneyland during a preview before it opened to the public. We'd just met Mickey Mouse in the lobby for a bedtime hug, and we were running water for the boys to take a bath. We were excited about having a preview day at Hong Kong Disneyland in the morning. And behind all the obvious cuteness, I see three boys who hadn't spent much time together in the previous six months, bubbling over with joy at being in each other's presence. Yes, it's my favorite. Maybe I'll have a new favorite in two days when these three are together again! Can't wait! Now back to peeling photos from frames...

72 Days Without Michael: Day 70

2011-06-27T22:28:00.000-07:00

It's funny how the last week before Michael comes home is almost as hard as the week he left. I'm so over this stupid separation!

True story: in high school, I lived right next to an Army base, Ft. Hunter Liggett, in a very small town called Lockwood. When I moved in, the Population sign read 123. When I visited there last summer, it was somewhere in the 400's. Most of my classmates had lived there from birth. I was the new girl, who had lived in the Los Angeles area right up until that first day of high school. Most of my girlfriends there had aspirations of marrying one of the guys on the Army base so they could move away from that little town. I personally vowed to never even look at the Army guys because I knew that I could get in my little red pickup and leave town any time I wanted without being tied to some guy or the military. And besides, I had no interest in moving every two years, always being away from my husband, and being dragged all over the planet. The joke is on me, of course. I'm not tied to the military in any way, but I have moved way more often than every two years and lived all over the planet!

Michael's career causes us to be apart quite a bit. This is by far the longest separation we've ever had. He's been on tours that have lasted longer, but one of us always flew to where the other one was at least once a month. This is just shy of 11 weeks with no physical contact. I don't recommend it.

There is a typical pattern that always repeats after a separation. I'm a fiercely independent girl, who was raised by a fiercely independent mother. You can tell me your way is better than the way I'm doing it, but you may never convince me of it. I never shared a room, never had a roommate, only ever ran track- which is not a team sport, and love to do my own thing regardless of what anyone else thinks. Being married, being in a partnership, being on a team... all very hard things for me (hard for most people I'm sure). I make a much better leader than follower. I really have to work at being a team with Michael, not racing ahead or to the side or lagging behind. Thankfully, Michael is a strong leader himself or else our relationship might have been doomed. When we're apart, my fierce independence really comes out. After all, in the last ten weeks, 100% of the day to day decisions have been made by me, without his input. With no one here to encourage me to go to bed or eat breakfast, I do things on my own schedule. Or don't do them at all. And when it comes to this move, I'd say I had to make about 95% of the decisions on my own. What to keep, what to sell and for how much, what to store, what to give away or toss. Of course, after 17 years of making decisions together, it's not like I'm gonna go rogue and make crazy choices that would harm us or our resources. But there is a certain amount of control and power held by the one who makes the decisions, right? Plus, while he's gone, I've had to do everything. All the household chores, all the discipline of the children, all errands and bill paying and shopping. And while sometimes it's overwhelming, I've proven that I'm perfectly capable of doing it, without Michael's help.

So here's what happens: When Michael comes back, we fight. We fight like crazy. We fight because I've gotten used to doing things my way without him, and he is simply trying to fit back into the pattern of daily life by doing things his way. And though he would never intentionally criticize any choice I've made, when he asks questions such as, "Huh, why did you stack all the boxes like that? It would be better if you'd done it like this," I hear, "You did it wrong, wrong, all wrong, you don't know what you're doing and can't be trusted with anything you fool!" And then I say something like, "You weren't here to do it! Don't tell me what to do! If you would have been here, you could have done it your way! But you weren't! So live with it! GAAAHHHHH!!!" Or, my sweet husband will do something helpful without me asking him, such as pick up milk from the grocery, put gas in my car, or fold my laundry and put it away, and I become completely unreasonable, demanding that he admit I can do those things without any help from him, which leaves him perplexed and then defensive, because after all, he was only helping! I'm sure if it wasn't so pathetic, it would be hilarious. If I saw it on a sitcom, I'd laugh. In real life, it's draining.

For the last five weeks, our daily conversations via Skype have featured some variation of the following script:

Heather: I'm afraid when you get home we're just going to fight like we normally do.

Michael: No. Not this time. We're not going to fight this time.

Heather: But how can you be so sure? We always fight. It's like our tradition.

Michael: Because we're going to make up our minds that we will not fight. Easy as that.

Heather: You call that easy? Just making up your mind not to fight? I mean, we can try...

Michael: (throwing my favorite Yoda quote in my face) Do or do not, there is no try!

Heather: Fine, then I guess we'll be fighting.

Both of us: (laughter) I love you!

Three days until we pick him up from the airport, crying happy tears instead of sad. Three days until I force myself to enthusiastically and gratefully accept all the help he can give to finish up the final bits of random things that need to happen. Three days until I'm occupying the same space as my spouse, which fighting or not, is something I'm greatly looking forward to.

And then... thirteen days until we all go back to the airport and leave for Macau, China. *gulp* I think that's the key to nipping any fights in the bud. I'm going to need my husband, my partner, my teammate, to get us through the next two weeks. Because I don't want to waste a single second disagreeing about anything when we are about to launch into the most incredible adventure of our lives. And I certainly don't want to do it on my own when it's sooo much better to share every tiny bit of what lies before us!

P.S. Several of my high school girlfriends did meet and marry their husbands thanks to that Army base and have had long and happy marriages. I'm not saying a single bad thing about them or any military spouses. My husband is only working on a show that entertains people. Their husbands are fighting for freedom and saving the world and spend way more time apart from their spouses and make millions more decisions on their own than I ever will. I'm in awe and have nothing but respect.

When Heather Met Michael

2011-06-22T12:06:00.000-07:00

I was 19 and in my second year of college. I'd just gone through a ridiculously painful breakup where the guy didn't just break up with me, he moved out of state and gave me no way to get ahold of him. Having always been the person doing the breaking up, this was a devastating blow. I did a bit of rebound dating thanks to friends who were happy to set me up with friends of their boyfriends. It was the fall semester and I was the stage manager for a show at school. They'd brought in a paid lighting designer (someone already out of school) and the director was beyond excited to introduce us. But before introductions could be made, everyone involved in the production gathered to take this photo.

After everyone went back into rehearsal or off to class, the director introduced me to the lighting designer. Right there, on those steps, in front of that theater. The lighting designer, as you may have guessed, was none other than Michael Chase.

I was not impressed.

He seemed a little arrogant and tried awkwardly flirting with me. He had 90201 sideburns almost to his jawbone (from the original 90210, not the current one), and he was wearing jeans that were waaaay too tight. And, he was four years older than me. Which is a lot when you are 19. I didn't hear angels singing or see stars and rainbows when I saw him. Michael, on the other hand, heard and saw them loud and clear when he saw me.

During the rehearsals and the run of the show, Michael proceeded to ask me out every time he saw me. I came up with increasingly creative ways to say no. During one of the shows while I was calling the cues over headset, Michael threw a paper airplane at me in the stage manager's booth. I opened it, and found he'd written, "Would you like to go out sometime?" on it. I was flustered and said over headset, "Are you in kindergarten or something?" My friends on headset all giggled with me when Michael commented, "I was thinking that was closer to 5th grade."

The actual paper airplane, saved all these years and recently discovered in a box in the garage.
I taped it to the wall above my bed while we were engaged, the tape still remains.

The second I called the last cue for the curtain call, I ran like the wind out of the stage manager's booth straight into the women's dressing room. There I bumped into my friend Keith (it was after the show, no one was undressed that I can recall). I was out of breath and he was sipping a beverage. He asked me about my breathless state, and I proceeded to tell him about this guy who was so stinking persistent in asking me out, and how he was really starting to creep me out and how he dressed funny and how he'd even thrown a paper airplane at me while I was trying to do my job. He asked me who this horrible person was. I said, "Michael Chase." Keith, mouth full of beverage, did a spit take. And then he doubled over in laughter.

Not seeing the humour, I asked him to explain. He put his hand on my shoulder and very seriously said, "Go out with him. You will never in your life meet a nicer guy. I have known Mike forever, and I promise you that he is not a creepy guy and you will never regret it." This was not what I wanted to hear. As the cast and crew said their goodbyes and left, I took my stack of cards and flowers and went home. When I opened the cards, I found one from Michael. It was quite impersonal, simply thanking me for my service on the show. And then, almost as an afterthought, he'd tucked a post-it note in the card, which said that he knew I was busy (my common excuse for not going out with him), and he was sorry to keep bugging me, but if I could ever even find just ten minutes to have coffee with him, he would be beyond thrilled.

I nearly sunk into the ground with guilt. I felt like the world's worst person. I was pond scum. I felt like a stuck up snob who thought she was too good for a guy whose worst fault was he had a bad sense of style. But I didn't know how to make it right, especially since I really didn't want to go out with the guy.

At the time, I was living in a tiny bachelor apartment. A one bedroom unit had opened up, and I decided to move into it. The only downside was it didn't have a refrigerator. Not wanting to go by myself to buy a refrigerator and finding all my friends were in class or otherwise busy, I pulled out the Thank You card from Michael, and dialled the number on the post-it, asking if he'd like to go shopping with me. He was at my door in minutes. He took me to all the major appliance stores, where I didn't find anything in my budget. He also drove me around the South Bay and up to the sea cliffs in Palos Verdes, and around the Lloyd Wright designed Wayfarer's Chapel, stunning in the moonlight. And during this time, we talked. And we talked and we talked and talked some more. We talked about everything. Our childhoods, our passion for the theater, our dreams and hopes and goals. I was stunned to find that we were similar in both large and small things, and that the conversation (once he stopped trying to flirt with me) was easy. Not a single awkward pause. He was a perfect gentleman, opening every door for me, not creepy at all. And he made me laugh, and except for sleep, there's nothing I love to do more than laugh. We literally talked all night, as he drove and drove.

When the sun came up, he finally took me home. I was sad to say goodbye and jumped in the shower to get ready for work. I thought a lot. About Michael, yes, but also about how you can change a person's clothes, but you can't change a person's character. And about how I hated being judged by my looks (if you're a pretty blond, you must be dumb), yet I was willing to turn someone away over long sideburns which can be trimmed. After my work shift at the mall, I bought Michael a long sleeved, button up shirt. A hip and fashionable shirt that didn't scream "I come from the 80's!" like the rest of his clothes. I put it in a box and waited a week to finally give it to him. He also waited a week to tell me that his father owned an appliance store, and he could have taken me there first and gotten a great deal on a refrigerator (which he later did), but he was afraid our "date" would be over if I got a fridge at the first stop.

I was still casually dating a couple other people, and still didn't know how I felt about Michael. As I recall, my main emotion was fear! I'd just gone through a miserable break up. What was I getting myself into? I was taking a theatrical lighting class and doing quite poorly, because it was all math and geometry, subjects I hadn't done well in. So I did what millions of girls before me have done to get a guy to do what they want: I batted my eyelashes and flirted back at Michael, complimenting him on what a great lighting designer he was and would he be willing to help me with my light plot so I could pass my class?

He did. And angels starting singing. And I broke it off with all the other guys. And I went on a real and proper date with Michael (to Disneyland, of course!). And I started seeing stars and rainbows. And four months from the day in that photo, Michael asked me to marry him. And I said yes, so long as we had a long-ish engagement due to the whole only-knowing-him-for-four-months thing (I was wise for 19). And today, though we are on two different continents, we celebrate fifteen incredible years of marriage, during which I have purchased 100% of Michael's clothing. And as our friend Keith promised, I have never for one minute regretted going out with Michael Chase.

P.S. A couple years ago, our friend Michael Yarbro (in the upper right corner of this pic) posted the original photo on facebook. It about knocked my socks off, knowing that out there in the world there was a photo of the very day Michael Chase and I met, and that someone we knew had it. He tagged everyone in the photo, and then just this past Christmas, seventeen years later, he sent us the original. I absolutely treasure it, at least as much as that faded paper airplane. Thank you, Michael Yarbro!

Happy Father's Day!

2011-06-19T14:16:00.000-07:00

Taken two days before Michael left for Macau.

What a strange Father's Day! This year, Michael is in Macau away from his family, and my boys are up staying with my own Dad while I buckle down and work 'round the clock to finish the packing without little kids around, demanding attention since it's now Summer Vacation and they don't know what to do with themselves! But I do get to have dinner with my Father in Law, so at least I get to celebrate with one of the fathers in my life!

I mailed a bunch of Father's Day and Anniversary cards to Michael, but I'm afraid they won't arrive until after he's already back here in the US to collect us. We'll see! There have been plenty of Mother's Days that Michael has been out of town (State, Country), but this is Michael's first Father's Day away from his family. Wednesday is our 15th wedding anniversary, which we will also spend apart. For most of the boys' birthdays, Michael has been out of town. About a year ago I put my foot down and said NO MORE. Birthdays are extremely important to me, and the disappointment the boys had when their Daddy wasn't around for theirs was so painful to witness. So now the new rule is that Michael has to be here for them. And Benjamin, who turns 8 on the day Michael flies home from Macau, has been telling everyone who will listen how his favorite present this year will be picking up his Daddy from the airport. Sure, he'll be tired and stiff from a long flight, but Michael is a wonderful father and he'll pull the energy out of somewhere (probably Starbucks) to make Ben's day special. I just wish I could do the same to make Michael's Father's Day special. I love that man so much!

I was reflecting this morning how very important relationships with our fathers are, and how a good one or a bad one can have consequences throughout our lives. My Dad taught me a lot, but one of the most important things he did was to be the perfect gentleman. He treated women with respect, and loved my Mom through his attitude and actions toward her. He also taught me that I was worthy of finding a man who would treat me the same way. Sure I dated other guys before I met Michael. And there were plenty of first dates that didn't have a second because the guy didn't open the car door for me. And then I met Michael, who not only opened the car door for me, but he handed me my seat belt and locked the door before closing it (before automatic locks). He treated me like the princess that my Dad always assured me I was. So I'm incredibly grateful to my Father-in-law, who is another perfect gentleman, who passed these traits down to his son. Without these two men, Michael and I would not be celebrating 15 years of marriage this week. My hope and prayer is that my boys will grow up to be the kind of men who would make their Grandfathers proud. With such strong examples to learn from, I think they will.

Happy Father's Day to all you Dads, and to the men who step in to be father-figures to those who need it. You make the world a better place. Thank you!

Bookends

2011-06-17T08:46:00.000-07:00

First Day of School:

Last Day of School:

Nathan grew 2.5 inches this year and finally

overtook his Grandma Chase in height.

Benjamin grew 2.5 inches and on the last day of second grade

is as tall as Nathan was on the first day of first grade!

He's trying to catch up to his big brother...

Look back at Bookends posts here and here to see the crazy progression of growth in these two young men!

School's Out

2011-06-16T23:23:00.000-07:00

I think before you have kids, New Year's Day is a really super important day to you. It's a day to start fresh and have new goals and plans. But once you have school age kids, it seems like New Year's Day loses it's lustre, and is replaced by the September to June school year schedule. September is the time to start fresh, June is the time to reflect on the past year and look forward to the future.

Today was a bittersweet day. I'm not going to lie, there were a lot of tears shed.

Benjamin said goodbye to his second grade class, and to being a second grader. He was tearful all morning and again when I picked him up for the final time from school. I wrongfully assumed that his tears were over the fact that he had to say goodbye to everyone. The real reason? He just wished that he had two more weeks of school. I'm not done learning yet, he cried. He is an amazing student, and his report card showing straight A's for the entire year reflects that. I'm so proud of him. Especially because he has accomplished this without the slightest bit of help from me. He pushes himself to do good on his homework and study for tests without any encouragement from me. And his success is his reward in his eyes. He never asks for a treat beyond the 100% that the teacher writes on his tests. What a joy he is!

Nathan happily shrugged off the 4th grade mantle, happy to be a newly minted 5th grader, happy that summer vacation started this afternoon, and happy to toss his homework folder directly in the garbage. He wasn't so happy to part with his best friend. We just found out Nathan's class and teacher will be "looping" next year, meaning that the absolutely wonderful Mr. G will move up to 5th grade next year and keep all the same students from his class this year. Nathan has been okay with the move to Macau up until the point he heard that. Suddenly he feels like he's the "only" kid who won't be a part of the group next year, who will all stick together without him, forgetting he was ever there. That's a tough one. I admit I had a brief crisis with my own thoughts toward this move when I heard that. I love their school, and I'm crazy about his teacher. There are so few male teachers anymore, and Nathan has been fortunate enough to have a male teacher two years in a row. Missing out on a guarantee to have not only a male teacher next year, but the very same teacher that has worked like crazy to help Nathan be successful this year? Painful. I lamented about it on Facebook, and my great friends tossed in major support and some terrific suggestions (Nathan will write his class postcards from Macau, and they will write him back) and I felt better. But Nathan still felt sad and left out today when everyone was waving and shouting, "See ya' next year! Same time, same place!"

Sadness.

And then there was me. I always cry on the last day of school. I always try not to cry because it's ridiculous. I'm not a hovering parent who gets all my satisfaction in life from my kids. And it's not like they're moving into middle school or high school or graduation (I'm gonna need the Costco-sized Kleenex when those days come). But I guess just like New Year's Eve, the last day of school is the closing of a book, the turn of a key in a lock, the final nail in the coffin, the very definite end of something. Today felt even more final, because we're not just leaving for the summer. We're walking away from this school, this school district, this school system, this country! But there was also another reason for tears.

This is my friend Keri, who I've known for 18 years. She was the first person I met when I went away to college. We were both theater majors, but she also got her teaching degree and then ended up using it. She started out as a substitute, but has been teaching full time for the last eight years at the school my boys attend. I would have loved for either of my kids to have had her just once. She is creative and sincere and very good at what she does. She really wanted to be an actress (we were in a movie together! You can see the backs of our heads in one particular shot if you're watching carefully in this terrible film), but she absolutely shines at working with children. And sadly, because the State of California is in such a horrible financial mess, she is one of the casualties of the cutbacks and won't be returning to teaching here in September. You know they always make cuts starting from the bottom seniority-wise. And you know that they are making very deep cuts when they're letting go of a teacher with eight years worth of seniority. We visited her 3rd grade classroom during Open House when it was filled with colorful and creative projects. And we visited it again today after the final bell and cried over the naked bulletin boards and empty bookshelves.

Every year since Nathan started kindergarten, our school district has had to make cuts to the teaching staff. And every year I've felt very sad and expressed shock over the sheer numbers (the boys' school lost eight teachers last year!) of teachers being let go. But that was before the teacher being let go was someone I know and love. Someone who took theatrical makeup with me and walked across campus so we could get lunch while looking like this at 18:

Keri on the far left, me on the far right. Make up design final for A Midsummer Night's Dream.

Someone who was willing to go to Disneyland with me dressed like this when we were 20:

Keri on the left, me right next to her, Michael as the Mad Hatter.

Someone who asked me to be her bridesmaid, but I had to drop out when I found out we were expecting Nathan on the same day as her wedding (he came late, we got to see the beautiful bride walk down the aisle despite me not fitting into any footwear other than my dad's old Birkenstock sandals. Glamorous! No, I'm not posting a photo!). Someone who sent me books in English when we were living in Japan and I'd already finished all the books I'd shipped over.

You can bet that when those numbers go from being "8 teachers" to my actual, honest to goodness friend, I'm going to go from simply being sad and shocked to shedding actual tears. Good thing she was crying too, I hate to cry alone.

After leaving campus at noon to start our summer vacation, we did our traditional last-day-of-school trip to Disneyland. Even the Happiest Place on Earth did little to lift our spirits all that much.

But it tried, by golly, it tried.

Happy Summer Vacation my friends!

The New Star Tours!

2011-06-15T00:01:00.000-07:00

Though I frequently poke fun and say it was my husband who forced me into being a Star Wars fan, the truth is the galaxy far, far away was close to my heart from an early age. I was at Disneyland during opening weekend of the original Star Tours way back when I was a kid, though I don't remember the first time I experienced it. The space flight simulator which originally opened in early 1987 has simply always been part of my memory. In fact, I'm one of those annoying people who can recite the entire original spiel (though I always refrain from doing so because I always find it annoying when other people do it). Star Tours has always been a favorite of the boys, its generally short wait a nice counterpoint to the long wait at the nearby Space Mountain coaster attraction.

Disneyland completely renovated Tomorrowland in 1998, and right before it opened to the public, they invited Cast Members to come to a special night at the Park where you could ride Space Mountain with the lights on, and walk backstage and stand underneath the Star Tours attraction while it ran with passengers inside. Personally, I hate seeing any type of Disney Magic revealed, which sadly can't be avoided while employed by the Walt Disney Company. My parents, however, do not feel that way, and they loved being our guests at the Cast Member preview. In 56 years of going to Disneyland, seeing Star Tours from backstage is probably their favorite Disney memory (You could ask them, but I don't think they've mastered the art of leaving a comment here, so you'll just have to believe me).

For the past year, Star Tours has been closed as they've been working very hard to re-imagine the attraction. Since it originally opened twenty-four years ago, it's had only one video with one possible adventure. The new attraction is a little bit like a choose-your-own-adventure book (though you don't get to choose), with up to 54 different possible experiences that unfold in front of you, giving you a different experience each time. And it's also now in 3-D. With seriously cool 3D glasses.

Seriously cool 3D glasses indeed!

It opened two weeks ago on a Friday, and though I really, really wanted to load the boys up and take them out there, I already had plans with Michelle to go on that Sunday. And I'm so glad I waited! The wait time on Friday was eight hours. The wait time for us on Sunday afternoon? A more manageable three hours. Which you can totally do with a ten year old and almost eight year old who are massive, die hard Star Wars fans. I was tweeting our progress in the slow moving line, hoping that the attraction was going to be worth the year-long plus three hour wait.
And you know what?

Happy space travellers!

Oh my gosh you guys, it totally was! It was so much fun to experience it with the boys and Michelle and I hope they remember this first time for always. I'm just sad Michael wasn't here to experience it with us. But he'll get to. Oh yes he will! Because our Disneyland Annual Passports expire on June 30th. Which happens to be Benjamin's birthday. Which also happens to be the day Michael flies into LAX to reunite with his family. Which means we are picking him up from the airport and driving straight to Anaheim to ride Star Tours with him over and over until jet lag renders him useless and we have to go home (I'll be driving, thankyouverymuch).

Disneyland! Star Tours! I can't think of a better way to celebrate Benjamin's birthday and Michael returning to us! I can hardly wait!

You know who else can hardly wait? Darth Vader. Of course he has no interest in Michael, he just wanted Star Tours to hurry and open! Don't believe me? Well check out this video!

The research is in.

2011-06-14T11:37:00.000-07:00

Thank you, Nathan. We can all rest better at night now!

The Cat's Meow

2011-06-12T01:25:00.000-07:00

My husband is terribly allergic to cats. His brother, who lives a mile from our house, has many cats. Michael has only been to his brother's house once, while it was being renovated and the cats were all kept in a single room, off limits to Mike. Uncle Mitch owns every game system there is, and enough video games to stock a small store. Knowing this, the boys have begged for years to go there. But because of the cat situation, it wasn't really possible unless we wanted Michael to have a miserable asthma attack along with his eyes swelling shut. Until now!

With Michael away, Mitch asked if the boys could come play this afternoon. They were so excited! And then Mike and Mitch's sister Holly called up this morning asking if she could take the boys to the Farmer's Market and park. She said she'd deliver them to Mitch's when he got home this afternoon. And then my friend Jenny, who used to live here but then moved up near my parents, called to say she was in town and wanted to come help me with packing! With the boys gone, Jenny and I got rid of the contents of six boxes and sorted stuff to keep into new boxes. I'm not sure which of the three Stateside Chases were happiest today!

The boys had a blast, and when I asked them what was the best part about today, they weren't sure if it was the Famous Nathan's Hot Dogs at Farmer's Market, the tree house at the park, video games with Uncle Mitch, hanging out and being able to pet so many kitties, or the Popsicles that Auntie Jamie (Mitch's wife) gave them. Funny enough, those boys tricked all of us into feeding them multiple meals today! They ate two breakfasts this morning (one before I got up, one after I came downstairs), Auntie Holly got them lunch plus plenty of snacks at Farmer's Market, and Mitch and Jamie made them sandwiches and snacks at their house, followed by me feeding them a huge dinner because they told me they were starving! Hmmm... yesterday Nathan slept for fifteen hours, today he ate five meals plus lots of snacks... maybe he's part bear and he's going to hibernate for the... summer? Nah! Just growing boys, I'm sure. They do feel loved, and that is the very most important thing of all.

Boys with their toys. Uncle Mitch on the left.

As we were walking down the sidewalk to our car from Uncle Mitch's house, he came running after us, with a Super Mario 64 game for the DSi. He said that he never really plays it and he was willing to part with it. Both boys were speechless at their good fortune! This is a game they have both really wanted and talk about all the time. And now it's theirs! Their bedtime prayers tonight were filled with more gratitude than I've ever heard from them before. And because I got to spend hours and hours with my dear friend Jenny, laughing and talking and being very productive, I'm sure mine will be too!

Heavy Baggage

2011-06-11T01:05:00.000-07:00

We are allotted two checked bags per person for our flight to Macau. Which means for our family, we can check eight pieces of luggage, plus four carry-ons, plus four personal items. Because our shipment of household goods won't arrive for at least a month after we do, we really need to use our full allotment to bring over whatever we can!

We used to have many more suitcases, but in the past decade pieces have been broken or lent out and never returned. So when Michael returns for us, he'll bring the two empty suitcases he currently has in Macau, and it's up to me to go find six more.

You know what I found out today? My son Benjamin is an excellent suitcase shopper. First he asked me what I was looking for, and then he walked around the store, checking prices and sales. When we narrowed it down to just a couple choices, he unzipped every zipper to make sure they worked, checked wheels, checked the interior lining, and walked them up and down the aisles to check maneuverability. And then once we selected one, he refused to let me take it to the car or into our house! He insisted on doing it himself, to help me out. He's such a little man, that Ben!

We have a rolling duffel that has zip-out backpack style straps which comes in very handy when you're traveling in places where you can't easily wheel a suitcase. In the next few years we'll be travelling to a couple places where that will be necessary. I've been searching for a second one under $100 with no success. Plenty of duffel bags, but no backpack straps. Today with Ben's help, I found the perfect one. So now I just need to find five more suitable suitcases! Duffel bags are great for road trips, because you can stuff them to overflowing. But they aren't great for air travel. Airlines have lowered their weight limits and added ridiculously huge fees for overweight bags. From lots of experience, I can tell you that duffel bags are very easy to end up going overweight. Our favorite non-duffel bags are the hard shell cases that have four wheels and spin. We got several hard shell spinners ten years ago in Japan, before they were available here in the U.S. I remember returning from Japan and our luggage got just as much attention as we did, from family who hadn't seen us in a year! Those cases travelled with us all over the world, and have been lent out many times. Sadly, at this point we're down to just one spinner. I've still got time to find more, though. I've got my secret suitcase shopping weapon: Ben! We'll be good to go in no time!

On a different note, I think the upcoming move is suddenly weighing very heavily on Nathan. This is the first year he's really had a true Best Friend to share secrets with and have sleepovers every month with and talk on the phone for hours with. They'd made plans to be Best Friends all the way through high school, and were quite relieved to find out they'd be going to the same middle school in another year. This friend is Burmese and, like Nathan, is one that has also lived internationally and moved quite a few times. They have an easy shorthand when discussing living in this place or that, and slip into different cultures and traditions with ease. The friend's family are exactly the type of family you want your child to spend all his time with, and have the most gracious hospitality I've ever come across, inviting our whole family and anyone who happens to be with us when picking Nathan up to stay for a meal every time. Seriously, they are a dream.

I'm incredibly sad to rip these two fast friends apart. Growing up, I went to a different school each year until I got to high school where I did all four years at the same school. I know first hand how hard this is on Nathan, because I lived it. It was hard enough last year when we moved to our current house and he had to switch schools. I was so certain we'd stay here so that the boys could go to the high school we wanted them to go to. And now for the second year we're pulling him away from friends.

I feel truly terrible, and like I said, I think he does too. He's carrying heavy baggage of a different type than Ben and I bought at the store today. Today Grandpa Chase picked the boys up from school and brought them home for me. When Nathan saw me, he just gave me a big hug and said he didn't feel well. He said his head, throat, lungs, and stomach hurt. He didn't have a fever and his throat wasn't red, so I gave him a Benadryl and told him to lay down. He promptly fell asleep. That was at four, and it's now one a.m. and he's still asleep. I snuck in to take his temperature again just now, and tried to wake him up to see if he was okay. He sleepily said, "I'm fine. Life is hard, sleep makes it better." Wise words from a likely sleep-talking ten year old. But true. So I'm going to go to bed myself, and sleep off a little bit of this hard life, see if I can't lighten my load a bit.

Good night, friends.

72 Days Without Michael: Day 53

2011-06-10T07:06:00.000-07:00

Because love is better

when expressed in ketchup

and surrounded by french fries*.

*Especially if you steal the french fries from a friend's lunch

so you don't have to buy and then be forced to eat your own.

Dinner Bell

2011-06-09T20:58:00.000-07:00

Without Michael here, the boys and I have been eating a lot of pasta, crockpot chili, and rice with chicken. Things that are easy to throw together and make the smallest mess possible. It's not as much fun to cook for just Nathan and Ben. They generally appreciate that their bellies are being filled, but Michael appreciates the time and effort I put into creating a meal. The boys make themselves scrambled eggs and quesadillas (not together) on a daily basis. I can't tell if it's because they are hungry or because they are still enthralled with the idea that they can make their own food. On the stove! With fire!

But there is one thing that they have been begging me to make for months.

Slimy Green Burritos.

When I went away to college, I knew how to make a peanut butter and honey sandwich, toast, french toast, and over-easy eggs which I would eat on toast. I think that's it. I didn't know how to make spaghetti or rice or bake chicken or even brown ground beef. No clue whatsoever. I was still in the midst of my vegetarian years (which ended when Michael served me a steak. And I ate it. And then called my Mom. Who turned to my Dad and said, "She's gonna marry that guy."), so cooking meat didn't matter to me then. You know how most college freshmen gain 10 to 15 pounds? Not me. I lost it. I was never as skinny in my entire life as I was in college. Because I didn't know how to cook, I pretty much just never ate.

This was completely unacceptable to my cousin Darolyn who lived near where I attended college. She took me under her wing, inviting me over once a week for dinner and a lesson in how to make what we ate. The first thing we made was Slimy Green Burritos. I'm preeeetty sure that Dar just called them burritos and I added the slimy and green part. They were so simple, and because I hadn't had a home-cooked meal in months, I very nearly went into a bliss coma from eating them. Later on it was the first meal I made for my husband, and because he's awesome, he made up a theme song for them (See? Cooking is so much more fun to do for Michael! Who gets theme songs for their food?!?) and requested them weekly.

Years passed, and my cooking improved greatly. I still don't love to cook, but I do finally have the ability to create delicious food from scratch. Slimy green burritos fell out of rotation until sometime early this year when Michael started humming their theme song. The boys were intrigued, and I created their first Slimy Green Burrito experience. Their reaction? Much like my initial bliss coma!

Sick of our current rotation of spaghetti/chili/chicken rice, and realizing I have only about 25 days to use up all the food in my pantry, I obliged their request and made Slimy Green Burritos for dinner. It resulted in singing. They sang the theme song. They sang of their love for me. They sang of my great mothering ability and great beauty. My heart sang at being enthusiastically thanked (without prompting) for making them dinner. And now that they are in bed, I'm wondering why I haven't been making these darn burritos more often! Here I've been making all my own sauces and spice blends and not using canned anything, while all I needed for this is to open a couple of cans. Such little effort, such big dividends!

I'll share the goodness with you.

You'll need:
Burrito size flour tortillas
One large or two small cans of Ranch Style Beans
One large or two small cans of mild green enchilada sauce (The Ranch Beans have a little kick, so mild sauce is fine)
Shredded cheese

Preheat the oven to 350F, and pull out a big casserole dish and give it a quick spritz of oil. Pour about half the enchilada sauce into the bottom of the dish, and then dip a tortilla in it. Turn it over, really covering it in the sauce. Put a scoop of the Ranch Style Beans in the middle of the tortilla, and top with a small handful of cheese (I think jack cheese works good here, but cheddar or "Mexican blend" works great too). Tuck in the ends and roll up the burrito, seam down. Because it's nice and wet from the green sauce, it will stay rolled just fine. Grab another tortilla and repeat. Add additional green sauce as necessary to keep it really nice and wet. Fill your casserole dish and then pour any remaining green sauce over the top, along with a little cheese if you like. Pop it in the oven for 30-40 minutes until it's nice and bubbly. Serve and wait for the praises!

Since my cousin Darolyn is a very fine cook who went on to teach me far more elaborate meals, I know she would absolutely die if she came across this ode to the simplest, easiest meal she's surely ever made! But what can I say: The heart (stomach) wants what the heart (stomach) wants!

I was looking for a photo of Darolyn and I and came across this little gem I had to share. Dar is on the far left with the curly dark hair. This pic was taken at my cousin Kelly's house (Dar's sister, center front) about a month after Ben was born. Because of Ben's health, I was obsessed with getting photos of family members with Ben in them. My reasoning was that should the worst happen, I wanted tangible proof that Ben had been with us and held and loved by all the people who love me (note the protective grip my Dad has on him!). For this shot, I set up the tripod and timer and ran into place. Just as the shutter clicked, Nathan sprayed all of us with that water blaster. There's another more respectable shot with all of us looking at the camera, but this one is my favorite! That's my boy Nat, always stealing the show! Gotta love him!

Reinforcements!

2011-06-08T20:13:00.000-07:00

Part of the pile of stuff we're shipping to Macau!

Today was so productive! I've been slowing down, losing speed, getting frustrated, and despairing of ever finishing the enormous task ahead of me. Two things changed that today. First, I went and leased a 10 x 10 foot storage unit. Second, my dear friend Cassi (who should have been my sister if life were fair) came over to help me whip things into shape.

The Storage Unit: I budgeted $100 a month on storage, and I shopped around our town at numerous places, getting tours and looking at dozens of metal rooms to hold our stuff. I ended up going with a place that is walking distance to our current home. Not really a benefit when we're halfway around the world, but great for getting stuff from here to there! For $100, the biggest place I could get was 10 x 10 feet. I know in other areas of the country, that's a horrible price. But this is Los Angeles and it's pretty standard. Walking around in it really helps me visualize how much I've still got to get rid of! We know we'll be gone at least two years, and our best guess is that we won't be back for three to five. So taking that into consideration, it is far more wise for us to sell off 95% of our furniture, and save a little bit of money each month to buy new stuff rather than spend hundreds of dollars each month to store it. We will store the master bedroom furniture, as it is my dream set that my husband purchased on layaway ten years ago. The rest of our house is furnished by IKEA, but our bedroom is exactly what I'd want if I could have designed it myself. We will store my Great-Grandmother's cedar hope chest, which contains keepsakes such as my wedding veil, the outfits we brought our babies home from the hospital in, and some family linens from my Mom's side of the family. And we'll store our new dining room table that seats 14. I saved up for two years to buy it, and they don't make that length in that style and color anymore. And it breaks down into storable pieces so it's worth it to me. The only other piece of furniture we're saving are the bunk beds that my Dad made for the boys, but we're shipping them to Macau so they won't be in storage. Other than those things, everything goes. And knowing how much space they take up really helps me to purge, purge, purge the rest of our stuff! It's like I've got a fire under my feet and new motivation. Better to get rid of stuff now than to come down to the wire and have our storage space filled to the rafters and have to open up packed boxes to get rid of more stuff on the spot!

My Friend Cassi: With every single move we've done, I always start off fast and furious, skimming off all the easy stuff. I make a huge dent. And then I start getting to the end and I find that I'm just moving stuff around from one spot to another rather than making any progress. On this move, I decided to rotate what room I work in on a daily basis. This is great because I never get bored of spending too much time in one place. But at this point in the process it's not so great, because I don't have a single room that I can close the door to and call done. Normally I would call my trusty Mom to swoop in and save the day on all those final things that give me grief because she's really, really good at that. But surprise, surprise! After three years on the market, my parents just sold their house last weekend! They'll be leaving California on July 30th, just 20 days after we leave the country! So you could say that my Mom is a little busy right now! Enter my friend Cassi. She is an organized neat freak and the exact opposite of me when it comes to housekeeping. Which is to say that she keeps a very organized and neat house. My house is... lived in. She marched in today, and together we finished an entire room (Hooray! One room totally finished!) and made such significant progress on the garage that I sure wish I'd taken before and after photos. The garage is sectioned off with one side full of packed and labelled boxes ready for storage, and the other side full of boxes jammed full of garage sale/Craig's List goodies. Cassi rearranged everything so it's no longer the maze of death and leaning towers of doom that I managed to create. She did it all so effortlessly that it looked like a magic trick. I was amazed and so grateful. We should all be so lucky to have friends/family members/spouses whose strengths perfectly match our weaknesses! Thanks to Cassi, I've got my groove back.

Life is good again. I'm back to work, with a merry tune in my heart and renewed energy and enthusiasm! I found some glow sticks in a box in the garage, and my kids were begging me to have an early bedtime so they could use them tonight. Who am I to say no to that request? Goodnight, children! Hello, alone time for Mama get more work done!

Twenty-two days until Michael returns for us. Thirty-two days until we're on that plane, starting a new life in Macau! Totally doable!

Smell the Flowers

2011-06-08T01:29:00.000-07:00

This entire school year I was under the impression that the last day of school was June 23rd. It's written on every calendar in the house and on my Google Calendar. Imagine my surprise when I found out that school actually gets out on June 16th! I panicked a bit, as I need every spare minute of time without the kids if I'm going to accomplish everything before Michael gets home on June 30th! I called my parents who live about four hours away and volunteered them to take the boys for a week, which they are happy to do. Whew! In the meantime, there are a lot of end-of-the-school-year things going on which frustrate me to no end. Mainly because I get in the groove and I'm making lots of progress, covered in dust, wearing cut-offs and sporting a sloppy bun on my head, and I have to stop, shower, change into something presentable and do hair and makeup. This is when it would be so nice to have a partner around to attend all these little events so I could keep working!

Today Benjamin had a field trip to our local Farmer's Market. It's only the second time as a parent that I've declined to be a chaparone on a field trip (the last time was right after I had surgery and Michael went in my place). And, I also declined to chaparone Nathan's field trip later this week. I love to have a strong presence at my boys' school, working in their classrooms and getting to know their friends and classmates, and leading little groups of them on these educational trips. I think it sends a message to them that I believe school is important, not to mention that they are important! I'm so grateful that unlike many of my friends who work outside the home, I get to pour as much time into the local school as I desire. Barring any crazy deadlines, I can write and run our production company in the middle of the night in my pajamas and be there for the boys in the day. So I actually felt pretty bad to tell Ben no. He was stunned and sad. Ugh. But today I had an appointment with a shipping company to come survey our household goods, and then I had to go look at storage units now that I have some actual boxes packed up and ready to be put into storage. But even if I didn't have all that, I'd have still declined so I could keep working on this never-ending task. Grrr. I figure that I'm about to take both the boys on the ultimate field trip to a foreign country, and let my guilt go.

Benjamin was allowed to bring up to $5 in spending money for the Farmer's Market. I told him he had to use his own money, which he did. Most of his classmates got sacks of kettle corn or sticks of honey. You know what Benjamin spent his money on?

Flowers!

It made me think of one of my very favorite childhood books, Ferdinand the Bull. Ben said he wanted to get roses because my last name is Rose, but they were out of his budget. He's such a sweetie and I just want to grab him and squeeze him tight and never let him go.

Here's the 1938 Oscar-winning Disney animated short of Ferdinand the Bull. I had the audio of this on a Disney record, which I played over and over. While watching it, I realized I still have almost all of the words memorized. I need to read this story to my boys if I can find a copy of the book. One more thing to put on my list! Maybe I'll get around to it by the time they are teenagers?

Companies I Love: LEGO

2011-06-03T12:41:00.000-07:00

Nathan and Benjamin's affections for various toys have waxed and waned through the years. The passion they once held for Hot Wheels and Thomas the Tank Engine wooden trains has burned out, leaving indifference at best. The one toy that they have consistently played with and continue to obsess about? Those brightly colored plastic bricks made by LEGO.

They had the big Duplo sets as toddlers, and though I've tried to pass their collection along to families with kids younger than mine, they refuse to let them go.

Nathan, age 4, built the Hong Kong Skyline that he could see out
of his bedroom window using LEGO Duplo Bricks, 2005

We took them to Legoland in Carlsbad, California, thanks to Auntie Holly who scored free tickets to the grand opening of a new ride. They loved it. Not necessarily because of the rides:

Auntie Holly, Nathan, and LEGO giraffes

But because of the many play areas filled with buckets of LEGO Bricks to play with!

Benjamin, age 10 months, a young but passionate fan of LEGO!

When Nathan was four he got his first bucket of the smaller bricks which he played with constantly. I'd scour garage sales and pick up random sets (which I'd wash in the sink with bleach diluted in water) to add to the collection. As birthdays came, there were specific sets that they started asking for, mainly Star Wars themed. Last year my little brother spontaneously gifted them with his own LEGO collection... a lifetime worth of now-vintage sets. They have thousands of bricks. And unlike other toys, they actually take very good care of them.

We somehow got on the LEGO mailing list, and now the boys receive quarterly catalogs which they pour over nearly every day until the staples give out and the pages disintegrate. When the Spring catalog arrived, they jumped on the couch and buried their heads in the photos and descriptions. And then suddenly, Nathan started shouting, "What?!? They made a mistake! Oh no! There is a mistake! Right here!" Sure enough, there was a page with several typos. Nathan was indignant, and rushed over to turn on the computer. He opened up a new document and starting typing a letter of complaint, expressing his shock that this holy catalog should have a mistake in it. He pointed out the errors and what it should have said. I was quite surprised that he was motivated to this action, but went along with it. I added the address of the company and our return address, leaving it otherwise in his own words. He signed it, "Nathan Chase, age 10."

We mailed it off the next day, and each day after school Nathan would ask to see the mail, checking for a response. The boys daydreamed incessantly that LEGO would be so grateful about Nathan showing them their error that they would send hundreds of dollars in bricks, or at least a mini fig. About the time he stopped asking, a letter came in the mail, addressed to Nathan. It took every ounce of will power for me not to tear into it! I brought it with me when I picked up the boys, and had Nathan open it the second we got in the car.

Nathan read it out loud, very slowly. It was not a form letter. It was a letter written by a real person, praising Nathan for his incredible eagle eyes and his attention to detail, and expressing gratitude for taking the time to write them such a great letter. They said they would work harder to make sure they didn't make the same mistake again. The letter asked him what his favorite collection was, and told him that they would love to hear from him again, any time. It was signed "Your LEGO friend, Dana," with an actual signature, in ink.

After he finished reading it, he just sat staring at it, expressionless. Ben shared his disappointment that it didn't contain a set of bricks, but Nathan said nothing. Finally I asked him what he was thinking. He said he didn't know what to say. He said he was in awe. That he couldn't believe they wrote him a letter. A real letter, addressed to him, on real LEGO paper, from a real person. He finally cracked a smile and said the letter was his favorite thing, ever, ever, EVER.

Trying to coax a smile after his world has been rocked

This week when I changed the boys' sheets, I decided to flip their mattresses. When I flipped Nathan's, I found the letter, tucked back into its envelope, stashed between the mattress and the bed frame. It was quite worn, with plenty of smudges, the folds starting to wear thin. In the two months since he received it, it's obviously been read and re-read over and over again, truly something that he treasures.

Thank you, LEGO, for taking the time to write a 10 year boy, and for gracefully praising him when he pointed out your mistakes. I will forever be a fan of your product, your company, and Dana with-no-last-name, Nathan's LEGO friend. You rock.

Boys to Men

2011-06-02T09:32:00.000-07:00

It's the common complaint of parents and grandparents everywhere: kids just grow up too darn fast. It's more obvious when they are babies and growing out of their clothes faster than you can wash them and put them away. These days my kids aren't sprouting up quite as fast (though I may have to take that back about Nathan, he's grown half an inch in two months), but they are growing up in more subtle ways.

With Nathan, I noticed something new that made my heart squeeze. A little while ago I took the boys to Disneyland on a school night (gasp!). We were all feeling a ton of stress, and when we got there, four of the five rides we specifically wanted to ride were closed or broke down right as we got in line. So, we went to the Castle and watched all the fluffy baby ducks and their mamas waddling around. We stayed there a really long time, close to an hour. All three of us were lost in our own little worlds!

Finally we decided to go over to the other park, Disney California Adventure to ride California Screamin', which has a loop in it. The boys declared that we would ride it until someone threw up. No one threw up, but there was hardly a line and after four times in rapid succession, the boys were asking if they couldn't go on the nearby children's merry go round!

4th time around! Someone is looking a little green...

While we were waiting in line over and over again, I noticed a group of three young girls who kept getting in line just in front of us or just behind us. They were giggling like maniacs, doing silly little things to show off, and sneaking glances at Nathan. Through listening to their conversation, I learned that they were currently in the 6th grade and they thought my son, who towered over them, was cute. Gulp. My fourth grade son. My ten year old. Girls in the 6th grade were making googly eyes at my baby.

I admit that when the boys said they wanted to go on the slower, gentler, merry go round, I was quite happy to let them. I wanted to get off the roller coaster, and I don't mean California Screamin'. I'm not ready for girls to be interested in my son. Or for that matter, for my son to be interested in girls. The first week of school this year Nathan admitted that he may have been wrong in thinking that all girls were gross and to be avoided at all costs. He's had a small but consistent crush on a girl that doesn't give him the time of day, which is fine with me. I don't think Nathan noticed the girls in line as he was deep in conversation with his brother about the current object of his desire: the Wii Lego Pirates of the Caribbean game. Please, my darling little boy, stay more interested in video games than girls for a few more years! Whoa. Now that's a sentence I never thought I'd utter, let alone put down in writing! Normally I'm trying to get him interested in anything but video games!

Feeling mildly distraught, I let the boys talk me into frozen lemonade. Which we ate while looking at more baby ducks. *sigh*

And then there is Benjamin. Benjamin who is the light of my life and the dearest of dear children. He's so sincere all the time that I don't have to wonder at all what he'll be like as an adult or an old man. What he'll be like in his teens is the wild card, but I have to say that he's so consistent with such a strong sense of right and wrong and justice, that I doubt (and hope and pray) that he'll ever get into much serious trouble. He doesn't have to experience something wrong to know it's wrong. With Nathan, you can tell him something is wrong and should be avoided and he'll do it anyway, every single time, because he wants to see for himself why it's wrong or if he'll really get in trouble for doing it. Ben learns from other's mistakes so he doesn't have to make them himself. Not that he's perfect! He still makes plenty of mistakes! But he just so different from Nathan.

With Ben, you can see him longing to be an adult. He's so anxious for the future to be here, now. It's funny how people talk about how the first born never gets to (drive, date, stay out past 10pm, watch PG 13 rated films) until they are a certain age, but then subsequent children get to do things earlier. This is already so true in our household. There's really nothing that Nathan can do that Ben isn't also allowed to do. Part of it is they have two very different personalities with younger Ben frequently displaying more maturity than his older brother, but part of it is that it's very hard to let Nathan have an experience without letting Ben do it too. I'm an oldest child, so I recognize that it's not fair to Nathan, but for now, it is what it is. But there is one experience that Ben tried to rush, even before Nathan:

Benjamin tried to shave. He got one of my shavers and went to town on his upper lip while he was in the shower. In the process, he actually removed a chunk of his lip. He waited several minutes, trying to hide the evidence with towels and water before finally calling me in a panic. When I opened the bathroom door, I was greeted by a shower scene straight out of Psycho! There was so much blood all over his body, all over the shower, and all over a wash cloth and bath towel that my mind struggled to comprehend what I was seeing.

I tried to stay calm and figure out where the blood was coming from... not easy to do when the shower is still going and making the blood run! After checking that all his teeth were still in place, he finally admitted what he'd done. I calmly asked him what we learned in Cub Scouts about first aid for a bleeding wound, and he knew that we needed to apply pressure. I sacrificed another washcloth to the cause. After 30 minutes, the blood stopped and I put on some prescription antibiotic ointment and a bandage and sent him to bed. And before you think that Michael is so lucky to have missed all this drama, please know that Nathan and I were actually talking to him on Skype when it happened! So he heard the yelling and the shrieking and I'm sure it wasn't easy on him to be so far away as the drama unfolded just off screen, while the ever-dramatic Nathan gave Mike the play-by-play!

The next day Michael had a long talk via Skype with Ben. He asked him why he did it. Ben tearfully said he wanted to be more like Daddy and thought shaving would bring them closer (I think his actual words were "we can be the same then"). Michael promised to teach Ben to shave when the time was right, but that it wouldn't be right for quite a few more years. I was listening in from just outside the door, holding back tears at Benjamin's earnestness and eagerness to grow up and be a man like his Dad. Once again, with feeling: *sigh*

It's so true, these kids are growing up way too fast. There's nothing I can do to stop it. The best I can do is to just grow up, right along side them. I'm so busy and stressed and feel like I'm missing so much. I'm so grateful to have a spot like this to put it all down, best I can. Because I know that when they are 16 and 14 I'll come back and read this and probably laugh my head off over being concerned about girls "liking" Nat and Ben trying to shave.

But this is where I am today. And I'm simply not ready to grow up any faster than I have to! Now if only I could teach my boys the same thing.

72 Days Without Michael: Day 44

2011-06-01T11:34:00.000-07:00

It's June!

It's finally June!

We'll be together again this month!

Avast, me hearties!

2011-05-29T15:18:00.000-07:00

My Cousin Jon, his wife Susette, and their son, Austin

We carved out a couple hours to attend the first birthday party for my cousin, Austin. I met him minutes after he was born. My Aunt Jean (his Grandma, my Mom's sister-in-law) lost her husband earlier that year and all other family members were in school or working on the day of the scheduled c-section. My Aunt found that she was going to have to wait in the waiting room by herself, in the same hospital where my Uncle passed. When my Mom told me this, I ran across town to sit with her. No one should have to be alone in a hospital waiting room, even if you're waiting for a new baby! I've known about the party for months and as the date got closer and closer, I began to stress out about taking the time away from all the things I've got to do. But it was a Pirate party, and I've got two boys, so we went.

Pirate Nathan, and Pirate Aunt Jean!

Compared to my husband's side of the family, my family is minuscule. My Mom had one brother, Jim, who married Jean, and had three boys, my cousins Jeff, James, and Jon. Jeff lives in Arizona with his family, but everyone else was at the party so I got to see everyone and dole out lots of hugs and answer lots of questions. For once, my boys were on their absolute best behavior, which meant I actually got to relax and enjoy some cake and adult conversation! On the Rayner side of the family, I was the only girl. When I was a little girl, my Aunt Jean delighted in my presence and let me play with an expensive heirloom doll and try on her wedding veil. I was such a girlie-girl, and poor Aunt Jean was surrounded by all these boys. I remember thinking about her when we found out that Nat was a boy. I drew a lot of strength from her! And when my Uncle Jim passed, I realized that a lot of how I am raising my boys is greatly influenced by how he raised his boys, my loud and boisterous cousins.

Cousin James and his wife Mai Li. They kept trying to get out the way of people taking
pics of Austin with the cake, but I just angled myself so they'd still be in the pic!

The boys got a lot of pirate's booty at the party. I've never seen a goodie bag so swollen with candy and treasure! But their favorite thing was the eye patch. They wore them all day and all night. I had to make them take them off for bed. Of course when I got up, there they were, watching TV, wearing their eye patches again!

I've been cutting their hair since they were born, but as you can see from the photo above, they haven't had a cut in awhile. With the house a maze of boxes, and a fundraiser for their school going on at the local Great Clips, I took them in for a pro job.

Nathan's hair is still long, which I'm totally fine with. But Ben went from a shaggy puppy to a walking Tommy Hilfiger ad with his very preppy 'do. I had to physically remove the eye patches so they could get their hair cut! Good thing I'm the kind of mom who allows (encourages!) imaginative dress up play in public! I never usually let them wear anything with skulls and crossbones, so I'm wondering if that's the appeal, or if they honestly just like pretending they're pirates? I know they both want to see the new Pirates 4 movie (with a PG13 rating I'm thinking no), so it could be that as well. No matter the reason, I'm happy to see them being silly, sporting smiles instead of tears. Aren't you?

P.S. Here's my favorite Tommy Hilfiger ad. I so want to be in this hip imaginary family! Ben will totally grow up to be that guy with the green sweater turtleneck and blazer. There's no one wearing enough black to be the person Nathan will grow up to be!

I just can't.

2011-05-28T22:02:00.000-07:00

I have a sudden respect for people with ADD/ADHD and people who suffer from panic attacks. There is so much to be done and I have lists written everywhere and before I can cross anything off, I'm adding half a dozen new things. I'll pick something up, see something else, go toward it, then remember something else I need to do and go off and start another task. I just can't keep a single thought in my head. And when the larger picture of what I'm trying to accomplish in the next 43 days becomes clear, I suddenly find my chest going tight and I feel like I can't breathe and the sound of my heart pounding is so loud in my ears that I'm certain everyone in the room can hear it.

I mention here on Boy Wonder how awesome my husband is all the time. And sometimes when I write it all down and shower him in praises, I think to myself, "what exactly do I do around here, if he's so great?" So I asked him to tell me what he'd say my biggest and best contributions to our family are. He had a lot of great things to say (thanks, Bean!), but I think the one I like most is that I'm the glue that keeps everything together. Whether it's our schedule, our belongings, our family, our friends, or our plans, I'm in the middle making sure everyone is on board and going in the same direction. Nothing and no one gets left behind or forgotten. We move a lot, yes. But you can ask our friends from six or seven moves ago and they will tell you that I work just as hard to remain friends with them now as I did when we all lived in the same town. And I think that's why we pick up so many extended family members... when I encounter someone who is alone and without a family unit, I make sure to absorb them into ours. Either permanently or for a season, no one gets left out in the cold.

But right now, my glue is sorta losing its stickiness. I just can't keep everything together, least of all myself. And of course, when I start to lose it, my boys start to lose it even worse. It's a vicious cycle. On Friday, Benjamin woke up crying. He cried from 6:30 a.m. until I dropped him off at school at 8:30. I picked him up at 3:30, and he resumed his tears, which continued until bedtime. He was crying about everything and nothing, slights real or imagined, injuries long since healed, the state of the weather, the day of the week, the tag in his tee, the fit of his shorts, the wind in his hair. By the time he was in bed, I was a frazzled mess. I know that this is Ben's way of saying "I'm nervous and worried about all the changes we are going through right now." But by the time I tucked him in and listened to his prayers, I felt like I had absolutely nothing to give him. I called my Mother-in-law at 10:00 p.m. and poured out my heart for an hour. Awesome people that they are, my in laws are going to take the boys on Monday for Memorial Day and shower them with love and fun things. I'll have a quiet day of doing what I need to do in complete solitude, picking up all the balls that I'm dropping and then stumbling on.

One of the balls that hasn't been dropped so much as carefully but regretfully put to the side, is giving time to my local friends and family members. Knowing that time is running out before we're gone for at least two years, I'm getting a deluge of invitations to get together with people. And I'm having to decline all of them. While I would love to see everyone just one last time, the truth is, I just can't. There are several people that I personally really want to see, and I'm terribly sad to find that we just can't make our schedules or geography work for one last goodbye. So it's not like I don't understand how my friends feel when I tell them I just can't see them. I always give them the option to come to my house (preferably with takeout) and help me pack, but for the most part they just get upset, thinking I'm not willing to see them. It's a terrible spot to be in for someone who works so hard every day to bring people together, to suddenly feel like I'm pushing them away. It makes me want to cry like Ben, from dawn to dusk. I wish I had unlimited time to splurge on pedicures with my girlfriends, movies with my college kid pals, and dinners out with our married friends. I wish I could give everyone the attention they desire and deserve. But you know what? I just can't. Feelings are getting hurt all over town, but I can't do it. It's tearing me up and adding to my stress by heaps and bounds, but I just can't. And that, my friends, sucks.

72 Days Without Michael: Day 34

2011-05-22T16:13:00.000-07:00

Michael is the Breakfast King around here. I've previously mentioned how my kids have to fend for themselves in the morning unless Michael is here to make French toast, eggs and bacon, or fluffy pancakes for them. I simply don't eat breakfast unless he makes it. Since he's been gone, the boys have eaten cereal, instant oatmeal, or frozen waffles each morning. They've mentioned a few times how much they miss Daddy's pancakes, but they've never asked me to make them.

On Saturday, I slept in for only the second time since Michael left. It was heavenly! When I finally came downstairs, the boys were curled up on the couch looking snugly, so I crawled in between them and chatted for a bit. It was almost noon, and although they'd already had oatmeal (Ben) and cereal (Nathan), they were both craving pancakes.

I did what any good mother would do in the absence of her expert pancake maker: took them out for brunch!

We went to Hof's Hut, a local beach-side burger place that serves a generous breakfast all day. Ben got a stack of pancakes and asked for a side of strawberries and whipped cream which he ate separately. Nathan got Daddy's favorite cinnamon roll french toast with sausage and eggs. The boys ate every single bite! And I got a breakfast quesadilla because me and Mexican food are real tight, any time of day!

I wanted to have a conversation about Michael and how much we miss him and what we should get him for Father's Day. The funny part was that there were three other families there that happen to be good friends of ours that kept stopping by our table to tell us how much they'll miss us and asking how we're doing without Mike around. Ben commented, "Wow, everyone here loves Dad!" And Nathan added, "But no one more than us!" It was sweet and funny and a really nice time with the boys.

Tuesday is the halfway point between Michael's departure and his return. So many people keeping commenting about how time is really flying by. I imagine for them, the people who only see Michael every now and then, it is. For me, it really isn't! June 30th just can't come soon enough! But on the other hand, with the large amount of work that needs to be done, June 30th is coming way too fast. It'll all get done somehow. One day at a time!

Let it go

2011-05-20T23:02:00.000-07:00

The great purge of 2011 is rolling along, somewhat painfully. Tonight I took five huge plastic bins filled with a lifetime of accumulated Christmas decor and ornaments, and whittled it all down to one medium sized box, which we'll ship to Macau. Everything else is in the Garage Sale / Craig's List / Give Away pile. It's good to see that pile growing, but it's also very hard.

The boys were bouncing a ball around in the driveway while I worked my way through box after box in the garage. I kept picking things up, holding them in my hands and repeating, "Let it go, let it go, let it go" until I was convinced that I could really let "it" go. At one point, the ball the boys were playing with went over the fence into the 15 acre park that our home sits next to. Ben said, "Uh-oh," and Nathan said, "Let it go, let it go, let it go," which made me double over in laughter. Kids listen to everything you say, even if they aren't necessarily paying attention!

My parents lent us the Christmas tree above about five years ago when we couldn't afford a live tree plus gifts. Each year we make like we're going to return it to them, and they insist we hang onto it another year. This time we really have to give it back since we won't be shipping it to Macau. Strangely enough, we really don't have any Christmas traditions that carry on from year to year, unless you count observing Hanukkah which we started doing a few years back when Benjamin insisted that we've always done it. The closest we've come to a "tradition" is having the same tree for the last five years!

Even our stockings (seen above) were only purchased (on sale post-Christmas from Pottery Barn) a year or two ago, and we've never actually put anything in them. We kind of fail at having that one warm tradition that the kids will grow up to remember fondly and want to pass down to their families. Instead, we move them all over the world and assimilate ourselves into the cultures or traditions of the places and people we're with at the time.

I love the photo above... you see our pal, Flik, from A Bug's Life, which joined our family in 1997 when Michael went on a tour across the U.S. to promote the film. He's been with us all over, hanging out in the living room of whatever home we've lived in for the last 14 years, either delighting or freaking people out. You see the Japanese doll in the glass case that we purchased for baby Nathan in honor of Boy's Day in Tokyo. While most Boy's Day dolls depict fierce warriors, this doll represents a boy dreaming of the future, full of creativity and imagination. We bought it when Nathan was six months old, and it's remarkable that our choice fits our creative dreamer perfectly! You see a little photo montage of passport photos that were taken of all four of us in 2005 when we lived in Hong Kong and had to get visas to travel to Beijing to climb the Great Wall. Remarkably, all four of our photos turned out amazing (something I've never seen on a passport photo!) and I felt the need to get them framed. And further over to the left, you see a photo of us on the Great Wall, hanging from the lamp.

I actually pulled up Christmas photos with the intention of writing about how sad I was feeling about letting go of three decades worth of Christmas ornaments and decorations, and lamenting about how we're somewhat untethered when it comes to grounding family traditions that might get passed on through generations to come. But instead I'm reminded that instead of an annual turkey dinner, the opening of stockings at midnight on Christmas Eve, and my grandmother's famous pumpkin pie, I'm actually giving my family the whole wide world. There is no ornament or pumpkin pie recipe that could compare to the experiences we've had and that we'll continue to have in the next several years.

With that perspective, it's so much easier to let go of the stuff that I keep trying so hard to hold onto. I tend to think that if I let it go, I'm letting go of the memory associated with it or the person who gave it to me. And yet here I am, making my 13th move in sixteen years, lugging this burden of stuff around with me. You'd think I would've learned this lesson somewhere around move five or six... What can I say? Better late than never. Better now than on move 15 or 16. Better to let go now, so I can enjoy the present and look forward to the future instead of worrying about taking care of all this stuff that represents the past. And if there's a "tradition" I'd like my boys to pass on through the generations, please let it be that.

What are you hanging onto that you could let go of today?

Just Ducky

2011-05-16T22:45:00.000-07:00

Things are moving along both at record-breaking speed and excruciatingly slow. I have a giant laminated calendar in the stairwell for the months of May and June, and the boys take turns making big X marks at the end of each day, getting us that much closer to Michael's return. And while I'm happy to see 27 big X marks up there, I'm also reminded that time is marching on and there is still so much to do.

We had a garage sale on Saturday at my in law's house. This was the first garage sale I've ever done without Michael, and my amazing Mom offered to come down and help. I'm so grateful. Mainly because I'm terrible with bargaining. If you're hugely pregnant and I'm selling baby clothes and you ask me how much they are, I'm likely to just gather them up and hand them to you, adding in some crib sheets and maybe even a car seat. Horrible! There are always two ways you can go with a garage sale: make money or get rid of stuff. My goal this time around was to get rid of stuff. Which I did!

We advertised that we were going to start at 7 a.m., and at 6 a.m. we started pulling stuff out. There were several people there already (the professional garage sale people who resell what they get from you) trying to snag deals. I don't mind the early birds, but I didn't exactly make it easy on them either. So I always double my asking price for anyone who is there before we start, and no bargaining. Take it or leave it, the day is long and there will be other customers if you don't want to pay that price! The crazy thing was that whatever price I gave, they took, and when I looked at my watch at 7:30 a.m., I'd already sold about 85% of the non-clothing items I had for sale. At the end of the day (we always stop at 1:00 p.m. because by that time you're only getting one or two people every 20 minutes), I took two grocery sacks of clothes and two small boxes of stuff to the Salvation Army. I was absolutely astounded to have had so much success. It was cloudy, windy, and even sprinkled a little, but we had a very steady stream of people. The boys were hoping to sell bottled water, but only managed to sell four bottles because it was so cold! Now if they'd been selling hot chocolate... that would be a different story!

Unfortunately, I still have so much stuff to get rid of! Saturday's garage sale was just the easy pickings. Now I have to make more difficult decisions. Every item I touch I have to ask myself, "Do I want to pay to store this for two years, maybe longer?" At the same time, I have to make decisions on what is worth paying to have shipped over with us. Despite my new Kindle, books (especially kids books) are at the top of my list. English-language books are incredibly expensive and in short supply. I can't take all of them with me, so I have to make good choices on what to bring.

The only other news to report is that it looks like we may have found a home. In fact, right as I was typing that last blog post, Michael was walking into a place that he said felt "like the skies opened up and the angels started singing." I'm not going to post any details until all the ducks are in a row as far as the contract and deposit go, but as soon as the ink is dry on the lease agreement, I'll spill the beans! I will say this... remember our wish lists? They've all been granted! Crossing fingers and saying prayers that it all works out perfectly!

House Hunters International

2011-05-10T22:23:00.000-07:00

Michael has begun the process of looking for our new home in Macau. Last week he looked at three places, and as I type this he's actually with a real estate agent looking at three more. Nathan's wish list: a high floor and a Very Big swimming pool. Benjamin's wish list: a swimming pool with the depth markers painted on the side so he doesn't go into the deep end unless he wants to. Are they easy to please or what? My wish list: four bedrooms and a great view.

You may recall that we were actually going to move to Macau about three years ago, for a totally different project. We were 30 days away from relocating when the world financial crisis happened and the project Michael was working on was shelved, as was his job. We had signed a provisional lease on a flat in Macau that I was absolutely in love with for two reasons:

Do you see those beautiful green nightstands? Let's look a little closer:

Yeah. If you remember, I LOVE the color green. LOVE it so much, I have to write LOVE in all caps! And if we were going to move into a place that Michael picked that I had never seen, then surely there could be no better place than one with gorgeous green nightstands.

And the second reason:

The red walls in the dining room. I lived in my first house until I was in the 5th grade (poor Nathan is in 4th grade and he's lived in EIGHT houses, it'll be nine in July!). My childhood house had a formal dining room, which we only used with company or for Sunday supper after church. I used to sit at a chair in the dining room and daydream of the day I would have my own dining room, which I would paint bright red. I never knew anyone with a red dining room, nor was I a particular fan of the color, I just believed that I wasn't really going to be grown up until I could dine in a red room of my own. Yet from the time I turned 18 and moved to Los Angeles on my own until this very day, I have only ever lived in rented dwellings. We've never owned our own home, primarily because we moved just too darn often, all over the world. And while we've had several wonderful landlords who let us change the standard Rental White paint, not one of them has ever been enthusiastic about red. So when Michael emailed me this photo back in 2008, I knew it was meant to be our home. There were other reasons to love this flat... it was on the 38th floor with absolutely stunning views and it came fully furnished except for one bedroom, which was perfect since we planned to ship over the boys bunk beds anyway. But the red walls... man, those were a dream right out of my childhood!

When everything fell through and we ended up not moving to Macau back in 2008, I mourned for those red walls as much as I mourned the lost job and the lost chance to move out of the country.

I'm confident that the right place will be there at exactly the right time for this current move, even if it doesn't have a red dining room. And all kinds of furniture is made right there in Macau (I'll bet you have something in your house right now that was manufactured in Macau), so if I want green nightstands, then I shall have them. The amazing thing is that housing prices have dropped in the three years since we were first going to move there. Our housing allowance will go so much further!

I'll leave you with two quick videos. Back in 2008 when Michael was staying in Macau we didn't use Skype. Instead we'd leave video messages for each other on a now defunct photo sharing site. While looking for the photos of the flat above, I came across these videos of Nathan and Ben leaving messages for their Daddy. In them, Nathan is 7 and Benjamin turned 5 on the day of the video. Crazy how much they've grown up in three years! The sentiments they share for Michael are just as true today as they were back then! You'll also notice the bright blue walls... our landlord at the time was cool with blue, but not so hot about red!

Mommy and Me

2011-05-09T10:02:00.000-07:00

I'm the oldest child in my family, and I'm a girl. In Michael's family, the oldest sibling is a girl. All my cousins who had more than one child had a girl first. So I grew up simply knowing that I would have a girl first. While pregnant the first time, strangers on the street would stop me and say, "You're having a girl! I know it!" All my friends were confident it was a girl based on how I was carrying. Even my OB/GYN was convinced it was a girl, basing it on the fact that I had severe morning sickness (hyperemesis gravidarum) that caused a 20+ pound weight loss and frequent hospital visits for the persistent dehydration (which evidently happens slightly more often in pregnancies with a girl baby). The day of the ultrasound, I looked at Michael and said, "But what if it's a boy?" He assured me it was a girl.

But guess what? Everyone was wrong. There was a Nathan Ernest instead of a Margaret Rose.

I famously cried for two weeks after the ultrasound, devastated that my firstborn little girl was not to be. And yes, Nathan knows this story and we laugh about it together. Because having a son was the best thing that ever happened to me, and I tell him that every single day.

I have to say, I love, love, LOVE being a mom to two boys. Yes, they are smelly and tend to be a little gross, but I have so much joy watching them grow into little men. And I relish the opportunity to raise up two more gentlemen in a society where men have stopped opening doors for ladies and such. And having two boys and no girls allows me to continue my reign as the only Princess in our family. I go to Disneyland and see all the little girls dressed up like princesses with glitter in their hair and preschool-sized high heels, carrying little frilly purses, and then I look at my rough and tumble boys with the pizza sauce stain on their shirt and the sloppy kiss presented to my cheek on demand, and I say, "Thank you God for giving me boys!"

But I do sometimes feel a little twinge of sorrow when there are Mommy and Me events that are clearly for Mothers and Daughters. For instance, our city's Mother and Daughter high tea. Or the photo contests for look-alike mothers and daughters. That's never going to be me.

I have a friend named Rory who my husband went to high school with. She and her husband lost their son at birth, and they nearly lost Rory as well. Rory and Tim became adoptive parents to a tiny baby girl, Boo. While Rory and Tim are Caucasian, Boo is African American. And one of the ways they have bonded with their beautiful daughter is through caring for her hair. And fabulous Rory even started a website called Chocolate Hair / Vanilla Care documenting their journey in hair care with Boo. It's a great resource for other adoptive parents, as well as anyone who wants tips on how to get beautiful and sometimes jaw-dropping hair styles for their daughters.

Rory recently put out the all-call for Mommy and Me matching hair styles to be featured on her website. I thought it was an incredibly clever idea, since Mother's Day was coming. I had a brief twinge of that previously mentioned sorrow that I didn't have a daughter to create a matching hairstyle with. And then I realized that my Son Nathan and I have the same exact hair. Everyone else in both our families have curls. We have thick, straight hair. And when I was a teen, I experimented with every style (and color) that I could. Nat hasn't asked for a color change, but he's definitely expressing himself through his hair. So, I decided to submit a photo for Rory's website anyway.

I simply love how it turned out! Ben took the photo, and Nathan was actually thrilled to do this and get attention because of his hair. Like the goal of Rory's website, Nat and I bonded over hair. I told him how unique we were and how so many people in our extended family would love to have our thick straight hair that grows incredibly fast and always looks healthy and shiny. He was so proud. We also bonded over a discussion about fashion. We both prefer to wear black, and he covets my Doc Martens, which fit him perfectly (I'm making him save up for a pair of his own). All in all, it was a great experience.

So our photo lacks sweet ringlet curls, braids, and fluffy pink bows, which was what I dreamed of way back before there ever was a Nathan. But I still got that Mommy and Me experience I've been craving. And I have an amazing and irreplaceable son that I wouldn't trade for a dozen girls!

Go check out our featured post at Chocolate Hair / Vanilla Care by clicking HERE.

Mother's Day, 2011 Edition

2011-05-08T23:33:00.000-07:00

Happy Mother's Day to all the Mums out there, as well as the people who take time to nurture others and stand in as Mums in a pinch!

Michael always goes out of his way to make me feel absolutely cherished and important and instructs the boys to do the same. Since he's not here, I couldn't bear the thought of staying here and working through the weekend like it was just any other day. So I packed up the boys and we hit the road to my Mom and Dad's house Friday after school. They live roughly four hours away, in the middle of nowhere. I'll write more about that another time.

I got to sleep in on Saturday for the very first time since Michael left. I'm such a fan of sleep, and of sleeping in. So this was quite possibly the best part of the weekend (okay, not the best, but it's up there!).

I begged and pleaded for my Dad to make "Birthday Tacos" for me Saturday night (a tradition that goes back to when I was just a little girl) even though it wasn't my birthday. Thankfully I'm quite the Daddy's Girl and he acquiesced.

Every year on Mother's Day and Father's Day, we take a photo with either me or Michael with the kids. Since I was with my own Mama, she got to be part of this tradition!

I came home Sunday afternoon, and made it back to L.A. before the boys' bedtime. No, I didn't speed! Traffic was just especially light. Which meant that I got to surprise my Mother in Law, Carol with the cards that the boys had made for her. I'd forgotten to drop them off on Friday. She was shocked to see us at the door, thinking we'd be back really late! Aren't those the best surprises? The very best surprise would have been Michael at her door, but he did call her this morning, which was almost as nice!

Michael always gets me something frivolous for Mother's Day. Last year he got me gold ring, set with diamonds (I joke that the boys saved all their allowance from their entire lives to get it for me!). He also got me a day at Burke Williams Day Spa. Although the spa day was more because I was scheduled to have my gallbladder out the day after Mother's Day last year, and I was mighty nervous. Nothing calms my nerves like a deep tissue massage!

This year, money has been exceptionally tight. Michael doesn't get his first paycheck from the new job until May 15th. And he's been under-employed since January. I have to be VERY firm with him and say NO GIFTS or else he'll do it anyway. But guess what? Last Saturday a package from Amazon.com came in the mail.

Before I opened it, I asked Michael about it. He said that I should open it before I went to my parents' house. I waited all the way until Thursday night (such restraint!), because I wanted to open it with the boys, and I knew we would be leaving immediately after school on Friday. You know what my amazing husband got me?

A Kindle 3G Wireless Reading Device that gets free Wi-Fi globally- including Macau! So I can read to my heart's content and don't have to ship over crates and crates of books, or pay $25USD for a cheap paperback when I get desperate to read something in English. This is a gift that will get so much use!

I know it's going to take me a little bit to warm up to the idea of an e-reader. I am a bibliophile in the true sense of the word. I love to read. I love the feel of a book in my hand. I love the texture of the paper. I love the scent of a hardcover book. I love to have every book shelf in my house overflowing with books that I read over and over again. I read 3-4 books at a time, always leaving one in the car, one in the kitchen, one in my purse, and one on my nightstand. I'm never without something to read. And because I read so fast, I'm somewhat indiscriminate. If you give me/lend me any book, I will read it. (Except romance. Ick.) And while my husband is a major geek when it comes to all things tech-related, I am not. I grew bored with his iPad after a week, and went right back to my paperback. So it will take me a bit to get used to the Kindle. But not too long. Especially since I was able to download a bunch of books in seconds while sitting in front of the school waiting for the boys to come out. Is that awesome or what? Speaking of awesome:

See the top line? I changed the name from "Heather's Kindle" to "Heather's Book of Awesome." Because every day that is what my amazing husband calls me. Awesome, that is, not book. The most exciting part about all this is that we've gotten a bunch of Amazon.com gift cards over the last year. We just kept adding the credit to our account, waiting to use it for music or a book or some big ticket item once we had enough credit. And we had enough (and then some) to buy the Kindle. So technically my clever husband didn't spend a cent on this amazing gift. He loves me!

Now that the van is unpacked and my darling boys are sound asleep, it's time for me to climb into bed with a good book. On my Kindle. Happy Mother's Day!

Who could it be knocking at my door?

2011-05-06T10:07:00.000-07:00

For the last several weeks, I've heard a gentle knocking on our front door. It's been loud enough for me to hear throughout our two-story house, and prompted me to stop whatever I'm doing to go see who is at the door. And every single time there was no one there. My reaction varies... I alternate between freaking out, getting annoyed, and wondering if I need my ears (or eyes) checked.

On Monday morning, Benjamin heard it too. The boys are not allowed to answer the door unless they see it is Mom, Dad, or one of the Grandparents (sorry for those of you who have come to our house and waved at the boys through the window, wondering why they just wave back instead of letting you in). So Ben came and got me to say someone was at the door. As I was walking to the door, I heard the knock clear and loud and I flung open the door to find... nothing.

On Tuesday morning I was sitting on the living room floor sorting through the never-ending stuff when the knock started up again. I wasn't even thinking about getting up to investigate from my spot on the ground, so I just looked up at the door, which has a half-round window in it. There is a wreath that hangs from the door, which is partially visible through the window. I didn't see anything, but I kept looking at it, thinking to myself, "Whoa, those windows are dirty. I don't think I've ever cleaned them. Better add that to my list of 8,672 things to do in the next 55 days." And then, I saw a little tiny bird hop onto one of the leaves on the wreath and give the window a sound pecking!

I was shocked! The bird was tiny! You could fit it in the palm of your hand and close your fingers all the way around it. But it was pecking the window with all it's strength, making a ridiculous amount of noise for such a tiny creature! I scrambled to my feet and grabbed my camera, but it just flew away.

I was patient, and the bird came back, along with a friend. Together they pecked at the window and I got some pics. As soon as I said "Whoa" out loud, they flew away. I heard them again later, but since I knew what the knocking was, I didn't bother running to the door to look.

I forgot to tell Ben what I found out, and so this morning both boys discovered together that there was a bird pecking on the window and squealed with delight, telling me to hurry and look. Of course, their screams made the bird fly away. Ben was especially excited to solve the knocking mystery since his imagination was coming up with all sorts of terrible things! I have to admit, my own imagination is on overdrive right now, wondering if these birds have escaped from some Disney movie, and realizing quite clearly that I am a princess, have come to tell me to let them in so they can sing happy songs and help me with my sewing and mending.

Hey lady! Your windows need cleaning!

More likely they've gotten so used to the birdseed buffet we used to provide with the birdhouses the boys built with their Grandpa and they want more. So I've added item 8,673 to my list of things to do: buy birdseed!

Happy Mother's Day in advance to all you Mamas! I'll have more on that subject, but I'm packing up the boys and we're heading to my own Mama's house for the weekend. The thought of spending Mother's Day without my husband who has made me feel like the Best Mom Ever for the last 11 years was more than I wanted to handle. And I gotta grab every last minute with my own parents while it's just a four hour drive instead of a 14 hour flight!

The Morning View

2011-05-04T11:00:00.000-07:00

Right now my two favorite things in life are Skype, which allows Michael and I to talk face-to-face throughout the day, and Dropbox, where Michael leaves photos of what he's seeing right on my computer for me to pull up and marvel at. These little things trick me into thinking that he's simply working out of an office in Burbank, and not a continent away.

Here was my view this morning:

A stack of towels by the door, awaiting use at our daily dive into the pool to cool off from the warm weather we're having here in Los Angeles. I'm not going to show the mess behind me. No one wants to see stacks of opened boxes, in the process of being sorted (not even me, ugh).

And here was Michael's (postcard-worthy) view this morning:

The northern-most tip of the island of Taipa, connected to the Macau peninsula by bridge, with the spire of the Macau Tower in the distance. This is the view from his bedroom! The green hills on the upper left side of the photo are China. The urban area to the right of the bridge is all Macau. What you see in the foreground in the center of the roundabout is just public art, there to beautify your morning commute. There are so many things about Macau that excite me, but the thing making my heart sing is despite being the most densely populated region on this entire planet, it is rich with beauty. Even the street signs are far from utilitarian! Throughout Macau, you have these blue and white tiled signs in both Portuguese and Chinese, guiding you as you go. Beautiful!

I don't know about you, but I prefer Michael's view!

In preparation for our move, we visited the travel doctor yesterday. Ben got one shot (Typhoid), Nathan got two (Typhoid and a previously-scheduled Tetanus), and I didn't have to get any. Instead of a Typhoid shot, I get to take a regimen of four Typhoid pills, that make 1 in 100 people nauseous to the point of throwing up. I'm always that 1 in a hundred, so I'm not looking forward to it! But the pills are good for 5 years, and the shots are only good for 2, so I'll deal with it! Michael actually had to get four shots before he left, so we lucked out.

When we moved to Hong Kong, the boys and I had to get 8 shots apiece, spread out over three weeks. Three of the shots were to prevent a life threatening mosquito-borne illness, and they were exceptionally painful. It was so horrible to keep bringing the boys back each week for more shots! They were 1 and 3 years old, and almost impossible to manage as soon as we'd pull into the UCLA Medical parking lot! My wonderful Mom made the 4-hour trek down each week to help me since Michael was traveling during that time. Ugh, I'm having terrible flashbacks. Which make me so much more grateful that this time around was so easy-breezy! Yes, I treated them to ice cream afterwards because they did so well. By bedtime they were near tears from stiffness and soreness in their arms. Nothing a little Motrin and snuggling couldn't fix, and this morning they are back to normal.

We're getting closer and closer! 57 days until Michael comes back, and then before I know it, I'll be seeing China and Macau out my bedroom window, too! Can't wait! Now back to this pile of boxes for me...

Having the Talk with your kids

2011-05-02T13:48:00.000-07:00

We are a Star Wars family.

Nathan, age 3 at Legoland

Michael was a major fan, and he forced me into it (although he'll say I went willingly). I have two favorite Star Wars memories.

The first: being a kid and walking into the movie theater at the beginning of Return of the Jedi seeing Han Solo frozen in carbonite (and then getting "thawed"). I stopped in the aisle and my little brother slammed into my back. But I was frozen by the image, just like Han Solo was frozen by the carbonite.

The second: when Episode III came out, we lived in Hong Kong. In theaters there you purchase an assigned seat, much like seeing a live show. We'd purchased tickets weeks in advance. When the day of the movie came, I had a terrible cold and was taking some very powerful cold medicine. But we had tickets for really good seats and we'd waited forever so there was no way I was staying home. The movie theater was packed, and the audience was absolutely silent the entire film. When the scene comes where they finally put the mask on Anakin and say "Henceforth, you shall be known as Darth Vader," I yelled out, "NOOOOOOOoooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooo!" Everyone in front of us turned around to look at me and Michael slid down in his seat from embarrassment. I can only blame the cold medicine, because it's not like I didn't know that plot point was coming, right?

Michael started the boys off on Star Wars young. They saw the first three films (Ep 4, 5, & 6) with him while they were preschoolers, and he read them lots of the Young Jedi book series, which they love. More recently they saw the later films (Ep 1 & 2) although we agreed that Ep 3 with it's PG-13 rating and its dark tones and ruthless killings needed to wait until they were older. We didn't discuss how much older. Privately, Michael thought "a few months older" while I thought "a few years older" and one night this winter when I was at rehearsal, the three of them popped in the Ep 3 DVD and Michael held the boys tight during the terrifying parts. I found out when he posted it on Facebook. *sigh* So now they've seen them all.

I saw this video and it cracked me up. I want to say we're not that bad, but... we probably are. Maybe the video will help you as you have the Talk with your kids as well.

Edited: When I picked the boys up from school, I noticed that they are both wearing Star Wars tees. How timely!

72 Days Without Michael: Day 11

2011-04-30T22:12:00.000-07:00

So yesterday we arrived at the eleven day mark. And I hit a major speed bump (brick wall is more like it), brought on by discouragement and plain old tiredness. My attitude went from "I can do this!" to "I don't WANT to do this!" overnight.

Michael had a day off and he took himself to the local movie theater to see Thor, a film that doesn't even come out in the US for another week. And one of only a handful of movies that I really, really wanted to see with him (he's a movie buff, and a comic book buff, but I love a good story about Norse gods! How could this not be the perfect film for us both?). Of course, his relaxing day off happened to coincide with the day that my kids went from being total angels working hard on my team, to wild misbehaving lunatics who got on my very last nerve. I actually yelled at them, which made all of us feel horrible. It's not like this isn't hard enough without me raising my voice! And instead of being happy that Michael got his first day off after ten straight days of working super long hours, I got pissy that he got a day off, period, when I'm feeling like I can't take a day off for the next 60 days. Silly. Stupid. Beyond ridiculous, and totally unfair of me. I know.

I think part of the problem is that I'm faced with a ton of things that only I can do, on top of having to do all the normal day-to-day things that life with two kids brings. I have had so many offers of help, but I'm not sure how exactly to utilize the help. I have to go through every single item we own and get rid of as much of it as I possibly can. This means I have to sit down with every single box, some of which have been packed up for the last four moves. Now before you say "If you haven't used it in four moves, then you probably don't need it," let me tell you that in many of our past moves, we've had help who indiscriminately placed items of possible worth in with items that could be tossed. So now I've got boxes filled with a few books, a few items of baby clothes, and an old 35mm camera. Or old credit card statements that need to be shredded, ink from a printer we no longer own, and a doll that was handmade by my grandmother, one of only a few things of hers that I have. How do I get someone to help me sort through these things? I can't really. I just have to barrel through and get it done. And there is a lot to get done. I feel that if I take time off now, I will pay for it mid-June by having to stay up night and day to get everything done. It's an enormous undertaking, one that I couldn't really gage the size of until I got started.

One type of help I will not refuse: when people call up and ask if they can take the boys for an hour, an afternoon, a day, my answer is YES, come and get them! Take them, have fun with them! I crave huge chunks of uninterrupted working time, which is impossible with the boys around. Since I'm their only parent right now, I cannot simply say "go ask Dad for help" or push them aside when they want to show me their latest Lego creation so that I can keep my head in the closet pulling stuff out. I'm very aware that I'm fully responsible for setting the tone around here, and if I start to get abrupt with them, they start to get rude to me and fight with each other and then we're quickly in misery yelling at each other. But it's so tempting! Especially when the weight of this move is weighing heavily and squarely on my shoulders.

So during my morning Skype with Michael where I was just a great big ball of grumpiness, he recommended that I just go back to bed and take a morning nap. I decided that with my terrible attitude toward the massive amount of work I had to do, that was a reasonable suggestion. One that would prevent me from getting resentful in any case. So I did. And you know what? I'm super grateful that I have an alarm on my phone telling me to pick the boys up from school, because I slept the entire day! And I felt so much better. And then I also went to bed on time and got a full night's sleep as well.

Today was Day 12 without Michael and I gotta say, it was awesome. Cub Scout car wash fundraiser in the morning, three hours of hard work mid-day with the boys going through all their books and toys and forcing them to purge, purge, purge, and then spending the whole afternoon swimming in the pool when a friend came over. It was the perfect blend of obligatory kid activities, productive work, and then stress reducing leisure time.

I need to be mindful that this is a marathon, and that sprinting top speed out of the starting gate won't leave me enough energy to make it all the way to the June 30 finish line. I can do this!

One more thing: since my hubby already saw Thor, who wants to be my date when I go see it on Friday May 6th?

I Have Never Ever...

2011-04-26T23:24:00.000-07:00

...Trimmed my children's fingernails.

Michael has done it 100% of the time for the last 10+ years. It's true. My husband was an amazing Dad from the minute that pink line showed up on the pregnancy test. He was born for the role of Daddy. He took on every physical task related to taking care of a baby except for feeding, and that's only because he lacked the appendages that Mama was blessed with. In fact, I didn't change my first diaper until my first born child was two weeks old. Michael left on a business trip to Japan, leaving my own Mama to stay with me as I recovered from a forty hour labor followed by an emergency C-section. Baby Nathan needed changing and I realized that I had no idea how to do it! I had to call my Mom upstairs to show me what to do!

Though I quickly took over all the baby care tasks, one thing remained Michael's (and only Michael's) job. That of trimming Nathan's nails. Michael is very fastidious when it comes to grooming his own nails, so this became an enjoyable bonding time with our baby for him.

When I found out we were expecting Benjamin, I had a bizarre reaction to trimming nails: it made me throw up. I'd had severe morning sickness with Nathan that required frequent hospital stays and prescription medication to keep me hydrated because I threw up an average of 15 times every day, all nine months. With Ben, the vomiting was at least manageable. I only threw up two or three times a day. And unlike my pregnancy with Nathan where everything made me puke, morning sickness with Ben had specific triggers that I could easily avoid... chocolate, dairy, sourdough bread, salty food, and the sight or sound of someone trimming their nails. I couldn't even be in the same room or I'd instantly lose my lunch.

To deal with my own nails while pregnant, I discovered pedicures. I wear sandals most of the time, even in winter, even in the rain. Regular pedicures are a great way to keep my feet from looking like they are constantly exposed to the elements. And what pregnant woman doesn't crave a nice foot soak and massage? And best of all, someone else trims your toenails, while you bury yourself in the latest People Magazine and try not to pay attention to what's going on down there. For my fingernails, I just used a nail file, which didn't have the same nausea-producing effect as the clip, clip sound that came from the clippers.

When Michael left for Macau last week, he took both the fingernail clippers and his fingernail clipping skills with him. This was bad news for me, because even though they are 10 and 7, trimming nails is still part of Michael's routine with his boys. And even though I'm not pregnant and haven't been for nearly eight years, the sound of clipping nails still bothers me like no other sound. Nails on a chalkboard are more pleasing to my ears than nails getting clipped!

Today I bought nail clippers with the intention of getting over myself and just doing the job in front of me. And when I started to trim Ben's pinkie nail, I got a little woozy. I kept trying to get the clipper lined up properly, and then I'd have to let go of his hand because I chickened out. Nathan was watching me carefully, trying to give me encouragement. Finally, Ben let me off the hook and said, "I'm almost eight. I'm pretty sure I can just do this by myself, Mom." And I let him.

He did a great job, totally unsupervised by his Mom, who hid out in the studio checking Facebook and shouting "Are you done yet?" every few minutes.

I can handle blood, vomit, diaper explosions, tears, slimy green trails that come out of runny noses, bugs that crawl and fly, colicky babies who cry for hours, and stinky boy smell, but I am easily and completely conquered by a teeny, tiny pair of fingernail clippers in action. We all have our weaknesses, right?

I'm just fortunate that in the areas that I'm weak, my hubby is super strong. The same is true of the reverse. Need someone to pack up your entire house in 4 to 10 weeks so you can move to a foreign country? Do not call Michael. He's clueless and inexperienced in this area, always conveniently out of town right before a relocation. You need me. I'm an international (moving) super star!

Sixty-five more days, and the unstoppable team of Michael + Heather will be back in full force, on the same continent!

Happy Easter!

2011-04-24T16:40:00.000-07:00

Every year on Easter, we take a family snapshot (you can see them here, here, here, and here). This year, for the first time, we're not all together, so no big group shot. But we did take pics of each other via Skype on our respective Easter Sundays (Michael is 15 hours ahead of us).

We're kind of like a tree, blossoming out of Michael's head. Nice!

If you actually clicked on the links to our past Easter photos, you'll see one that includes our "adopted" son, Chris, his wife, and his brother. About a month ago, before there was even a glimmer of Macau on the horizon, we told our "adopted" daughter Michelle that she simply had to go to church with us on Easter so she could be part of our annual Easter photo tradition. Because if you're in the photo, you're family. (We collect extended family like some people collect snowglobes). But now that Easter is here, we realized that our photo was going to be incomplete. But, we took one anyway. Tradition!

I hope you are having a wonderful Easter,

where ever this day may find you!

Distractions

2011-04-21T13:01:00.000-07:00

Sorry to be absent here... I've got all the Japan Stories just about ready to post so I'll get back on that soon. Funny how I started posting about our time living and working in Japan and then suddenly we're moving out of the country again... Maybe I should have done it a long time ago!

This week I've been focusing on not accomplishing anything other than being 100% present with the boys when they are home, and just being good to myself while they are not. "Being good to myself" involves a lot of reading and laying about being lazy. Which is fine because for the last two weeks I worked around the clock getting Michael ready to go, and for the next eleven weeks I'll be doing the same as I get rid of our possessions and prepare for the family move. I owe it to myself to do nothing for a week without guilt. So far, the boys have been angels. Could it be because I'm lavishing attention on them? I've also heaped a lot more responsibility on both of them, which they've taken on with relish. Michael used to do all the dishes, which was his way of showing his appreciation for me doing all the cooking. I hate doing the dishes and tend to put it off, even if all I have to do is rinse and put the plates in the dishwasher. So I'm having the boys immediately rinse their own dishes and put them directly in the dishwasher, no pausing to rest in the sink for Mom to find later. Nathan is already responsible for putting away all the dishes once they are clean. Now I just gotta get the boys to sort the clean socks... another task that I loathe that I always left for Michael! I hate socks so much that I almost always wear sandals, even in the rain, even in winter. I happily let the boys wear sandals all summer because it means less sock sorting!

Michael has been sending me lots of photos which I'll be sharing here starting next week. But I had to share one right now:

This is the welcome pack he got on his first day of work. A tee shirt, satchel, welcome book, and the thing I'm most excited about... a leather-bound binder that has little cards of all the attractions and sights in Macau in Chinese, perfect to show the taxi driver! I can't wait to go exploring! For the first time I've allowed myself to start daydreaming about what life is going to be like there, and it gives me ripples of excitement in my belly. Which is so much better than the pit of dread I was feeling as we prepared for Michael to depart. Of course, we've already been to about 85% of the sights in Macau as a family back in 2005. But that was with a preschooler and toddler, at a pace fast enough to keep them interested. Things are different now, and I'm so glad that even though they can be stink bugs on many occasions, I have raised two boys who are excellent travellers! Can't wait!

I already told Michael that he shouldn't get too attached to that tee... it's gonna be mine, all mine. And that satchel... I don't know if you can see it, but I'm pretty sure my name is there on it. Small price to pay for all the work that awaits me starting next week, right?

See you again soon!

Safe and Sound

2011-04-19T09:36:00.000-07:00

Michael arrived in Macau about an hour ago, got unpacked, and set up his computer so we could chat on Skype.

Skype is awesome! So is Michael!

Since I went to bed promptly at 8:30 pm last night, getting up to do the 6:30 a.m. morning routine with the boys wasn't a hardship at all. I'll probably pass out this afternoon, but for right now, all is good! Amazing what ten hours of sleep can do for one's outlook on life! Unfortunately, Michael barely slept on the flight, so he's struggling to keep his eyes open (see photo evidence above). It's just after midnight in Macau, so hopefully he will climb into bed and sleep right now! Sweet dreams, Michael!

72 Days Without Michael: Day 1

2011-04-18T17:57:00.001-07:00

The two weeks we had with Michael went by at record speed. Last night we finished packing up the few things he needed, washed the clothes he planned to wear on the plane, and I gave him a quick 2:00 a.m. haircut. Since he'll surely need a haircut within the next eleven weeks, we figured it would be best to start him off with a fresh cut. At the 6:00 a.m. alarm, I went to wake up the boys and found Ben was already sitting up in bed, his cheeks wet from tears. I told him to go snuggle his Dad and then worked on waking Nathan.

We got out the door at 6:30 and made our way over to LAX as a family. A lot of people had offered to take Michael to the airport this morning, but I wanted to do it myself for a couple of reasons. First of all, I didn't want the boys and I to have our last memory of Michael before we see him again in July to be one where he's walking out our front door. So much better, especially for the boys, if we can see him walking away into the airport. Second, I love him and wanted to spend every last second with him that I could.

Ben drew a picture of our family saying Bye Daddy and telling him how much we love him, and then he attached it to a lanyard so Michael could wear it around his neck, which he proudly did.

We were a pitiful sight, our family. We stood on the sidewalk outside of United Airlines, holding each other as all four of us just cried and cried. It's certainly not the first time we've been separated (thanks to touring productions, it took until our fourth wedding anniversary before we'd spent more time together than apart!), but it is the first time that the boys have been 10 and 7 and fully aware of what is going on and knowing just how long 72 days are.

While we stood there sobbing in a big family hug, one of the shuttle drivers stopped her vehicle and got out and walked over to us. For a moment I thought she was the airport police there to shoo us off (you're not allowed to get out of your car at LAX, you just gotta move along). She put her arms around Michael and I, and let out a big sob of her own. Through her tears, she said she was sitting there in her shuttle, watching us say goodbye and she just couldn't stand it, she had to come wish us well and tell us that it was going to all be okay. It was so random, yet comforting.

Finally I got the boys back in the van and I gave Michael one last squeeze before I drove away. I could see him sobbing as he turned, and the boys and I were wailing before I even pulled away from the curb.

Knowing that today was going to be difficult, I lined up three things that I thought would give the boys a boost. After dropping Mike off, but before school, I took them to McDonald's for breakfast for the first time in their lives. I got them both the breakfast platter that came with pancakes, bacon, sausage, hash browns, eggs, and an English muffin. Both of them ate every bite. Then, I let both of them buy lunch instead of making it. This year they have each been responsible for making their own school lunches, including making the shopping list for what they want in their lunches. They beg all the time to buy lunch, but I almost never let them do it. They were thrilled. And finally, after school I arranged to go over to our friend Megan's house to visit some baby kittens that the boys could hold and snuggle and love on. Michael is horribly allergic to cats, so if the three of us were going to spend a few hours being close to kitties, today was the day to do it! They couldn't decide which of these three things were the best. Benjamin commented: Why does the very worst day and the very best day have to fall on the same day?

I know we're going to make it, but I feel like we all need some extra grace this week. No plans, just chilling. Michael's plane lands in Hong Kong at 3:00 a.m. tomorrow our time, and then he'll take the ferry over to Macau. I'm pretty sure I'll be able to sleep like the dead starting at 3:15 a.m. knowing he's safely back on land after his fourteen hour flight, but for now I'm just a zombie, with streaks of wimpy waterproof mascara under my eyes. At least the boys are playing nice and helping each other with their homework and chores. Am I foolish to believe that this behavior might continue? Please God, let it!

Preparations

2011-04-09T20:38:00.000-07:00

How exactly does one prepare for a move out of the country in one week? Thankfully, whatever Michael forgets can be sent along after him, at least for the next couple of months. I made a list of the things he absolutely has to do to help me out (go through all his clothes and purge what he no longer likes/wears/fits, clean the BBQ that I'm not willing to touch, etc.), and then a second list of things he needs to acquire before he gets on that plane. Today we scratched off the three biggies: steel-toed boots for the job site, athletic shoes for all the commuting he'll be doing via foot, and a lightweight rain coat because it rains 15 out of 30 days during Spring in Macau.

We also took the coin jar from his nightstand that has accumulated 4+ years of daily pocket change and cashed it in at a CoinStar machine. After all, he won't be needing quarters any time soon and it would be silly to store it. We've recently been raiding it for weekly Dairy Queen runs after the boys are in bed, but even with that we managed to cash in $95 worth of coins! I felt like we won at a slot machine when the number kept getting higher and higher!

Over dinner tonight I brought up the subject of what to do with my substantial Alice in Wonderland collection. Should we ship it over and use it to decorate the dining room of our new flat, as we've done in every house we've lived in for the last several moves? Should we store it? And if we just bring the art that currently lines the walls, should I put my collection of antique Alice dolls in storage? After all, what would I do with them in Macau? Even here in our current house they are simply laid on a shelf on top of each other rather than on display.

I looked over at Nathan as I pondered this dilemma and noticed his eyes were wide and quite wet. "Mom, you have to bring the dolls. You can't leave them in a box. You just can't DO that to your dolls!" His passionate speech got me a little choked up. I decided that no matter what else may accompany us to Macau, the dolls will definitely be among the lucky items that make the cut. He was so relieved. And frankly, I find myself a little relieved as well. Not about the dolls... but about the boy. He's ten going on 16, with all the sassiness and snarkiness one could expect from a teenager. Sometimes I look at him with his long hair (his choice) and his slouchy posture and I wonder where in the world that affectionate toddler and joyously happy preschooler went. And on nights like tonight, I am relieved to see that there is still a little kid left in him after all.

Now if only it was that easy to make a decision about the other thousand things we have to decide what to do with!

Moving to Macau, China. Again.

2011-04-06T20:23:00.000-07:00

Three years ago, our family was packed up and ready to move to Macau. My husband was working on developing a brand new show, and we were going to relocate for a few years as it got off the ground. We'd sold off a lot of our household goods, and purchased our favorite hair care products in bulk. The boys were registered for a new school and we had the lease agreement in hand for our beautiful new flat in Macau. After having lived in Japan and Hong Kong for short term relocations, I was so ready to settle into 2+ years of living in a foreign country.

Thirty days before we were scheduled to get on the plane, the whole world went through a major financial crisis. The publicly owned corporation that was funding the show saw their stock go on a free fall from the $200 range to an all time low of less than $4USD per share. It wasn't just our flight reservations that were cancelled that day. Ultimately the entire project was cancelled and everyone, my husband included, lost their jobs.

It was devastating. I felt like the butt of a very cruel joke as I sat in our living room filled with carefully packed boxes that would now need to be unpacked. Our saving grace was that the bottom fell out while we still had a home here in the U.S, and not after we'd already given everything up and relocated. Can you imagine?

Our family in front of the Ruins of St. Paul's Cathedral in Macau during a visit in 2005 while we lived in Hong Kong.

Fast forward to this January, when Michael once again found himself under-employed. A project he thought would keep him employed for the long term abruptly ended, while scene shops and production companies that had plenty of work in 2010 found themselves laying off staff in the New Year. We struggled along and this time our saving grace was the fact that we'd been working diligently to get out of debt and built up an emergency fund.

Right about the time when we were at our lowest point, Michael got a phone call from someone who had seen his resume and felt that his skills perfectly matched up with a position as Technical Director for a $2.5 million show that had recently opened up... in Macau, China.

He spent about a week doing interviews via Skype and phone, and finally he was offered the position. We had three days to decide. Of course, during those three days, Michael had to take the boys to Cub Scout Rocket Camp and then do a load out of a show in Orange County. So all our decision making was done via text message (so grateful for unlimited texting!).

We had a handful of concerns that Michael was prepared to negotiate. But when he finally connected with them very early on Monday morning, they addressed the concerns in our favor without Michael having to say a word. So... it looks like we are moving to Macau. Again. For real this time!

Here's the tough part: Michael will actually leave in twelve days. They need him as soon as possible so he can learn the show from the departing technical director. The boys and I will remain here in Los Angeles until early July so they can finish out the school year and our accompanying family visas can be processed. Then Michael will come back briefly to collect us and we'll fly together to our new home in Macau. The next 90 days will be the most difficult part of the whole thing. The boys and I are enormous fans of Michael and are going to miss him like crazy.

Standing on the highest point in Macau. The buildings on our side of the water are in Macau.
What you see on the far side of the water is China.

This is an amazing opportunity, a much bigger deal than the previous gig that fell through. I'm filled with equal parts excitement and dread, which means I'm not sleeping and can't eat and can hardly breathe. Once again we're getting rid of our household goods that would be less expensive to purchase than to store for 2+ years. The flats in Macau come furnished, so we'll only ship over a couple things, like the boys' bunk beds made by my Dad and such.

Macau is a Special Administrative Region to China, much like Hong Kong. It has an autonomous government in all areas except foreign affairs and defence, in which it must defer to China. The entire country is only eleven square miles, yet there are half a million people residing there, making it the most densely populated place on Earth. I don't think they'll notice another four people, do you?

Of course, you probably want details on the show Michael will be working on, right? Okay, I'll spill! It is a show called The House of Dancing Water, directed by Franco Dragone, one of the founders of Cirque du Soleil. It has so many technical details, my husband drools when he starts talking about it! Here is a one minute trailer for the show, just to give you an idea:

Crazy huh? Very exciting, and very much a dream come true for our whole family. Now pardon me if I make myself scarce in these parts over the next two weeks. I have to soak up every minute I still have with my husband!

Broken Record

2011-03-31T10:58:00.000-07:00

One of Ben's favorite things to make is Sugar Cinnamon Toast. Which is simply buttered toast with sugar and cinnamon sprinkled on top. I'm pretty sure that's the only thing I digested while I was pregnant with him (everything else came back up thanks to morning-noon-and-night sickness), so I'm not surprised he loves it. Are there any foods that don't actually get better when you pour sugar on them? Not to a seven year old boy!

The last time Ben made toast, he grabbed the sugar jar and tilted it just a tad too far, resulting in the lid sliding right off. It landed on the tiled kitchen floor, where it broke into four pieces. Horrified, Ben crouched on the floor and instantly started crying, repeating, "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry."

I started crying right along with him, and that made it worse, because he thought I was angry at him. I wasn't angry, I was just a little shocked and surprised (and I always cry when my kids cry. Involuntary reaction). Because somehow in just shy of 15 years of marriage and 10+ moves, we've never broken any part of the place settings we received as gifts for our wedding. We didn't register for fine china, just the simple but elegant Filigree set from Pfaltzgraff, which we've used every day for the last 15 years. It's served us well and I'm still happy with it. And I have to admit that just before the broken sugar bowl incident, I was marveling that we haven't had to replace a dozen broken plates in the ten years we've had kids. After all, I have quite a few memories of accidentally breaking plates, bowls, and glasses, both at my home and at my Grandmother Rose's house during my childhood. How lucky we are, I thought just a few weeks ago, to have stayed intact all these years!

I tried to explain my thoughts to Ben, to take away the obvious guilt that was written all over him. It was an accident, and no matter how careful we are, sometimes things break. And it's okay to be sad at the loss of a perfect record, without getting angry at the person who shattered it. I just held him and wiped away his tears and collected all the broken pieces.

Internally, I felt gratitude that this happened when I had 10 years of parenting under my belt instead of during the earlier years when I might have exploded at a grubby-fingered toddler for destroying something, perhaps destroying something more important in the process, like his self-esteem or our relationship. We grow and change and (hopefully) become better people as we raise our kids. And thankfully, sugar bowls can be replaced.

But not Benjamin. He's one of a kind.

Seeing Eye to Eye

2011-03-29T20:28:00.000-07:00

It's finally happened. Nathan is as tall as his Grandma Chase. He's been just a hair under five feet tall, and when he finally crossed the line, he had to call her up and brag. I would have reprimanded him for being rude, but he was so full of delight at finally catching up to one of the adults in his life that I couldn't help but giggle. Sorry Grandma. But you do still have three grand kids that are shorter than you! For now anyway!

For the Birds

2011-03-29T11:54:00.000-07:00

When I was about 7, my Grandpa Rose let me go in his workshop and make a wooden journal cover. I got to cut, drill, and stain the wood. You could add regular lined binder paper to fill it up, and I remember it was my first "diary" of sorts. It's also my only clear memory of my Grandfather, who passed away shortly after. My father takes after his father, and has a workshop filled with woodworking tools as well. I really wanted my boys to have a memory of building something with their Grandpa. When we were up at his house recently, my Dad took each boy into the workshop and let them design and build their own birdhouses using some of his scrap lumber.

Nathan's on the left, Ben's on the right. The little painted one was a kit that Ben put out for the pic.

I love how my Dad let each of them make their own designs, while at the same time giving them a lesson in angles and tool safety. My first thought was to bundle these up and keep them safe forever. But lately I've realized I have way too many things in boxes that never get to be used or enjoyed. What am I saving them for?

So we put them on the patio and we've watched as they've started to weather a bit through Winter and the rainy start to Spring. Instead of putting bird food inside them, we put some on a plate in front. It's been fun to see all the birds stop by for their breakfast each day. Ben had to do a unit on birdwatching for Cub Scouts, so he's been meticulously recording what type of birds come when. We've seen lots of sparrows, a robin, and many hummingbirds who like to drink from the flowers in the garden. Speaking of which, it's time to add more birdseed for our feathered friends!

A birthday for Chris

2011-03-28T22:48:00.000-07:00

If you google "Happy Birthday Chris," this blog comes up first. I'm not kidding. You'll get an image of the word Chris, surrounded by french fries. Go ahead and do it, I'll wait.

See? Weird, right? That post from two years ago gets about 30 hits per day, every single day. I guess people are just drawn to the name Chris written in ketchup! I just feel bad for all the poor Chrises out there who are getting that image posted to their facebook pages on their birthdays...

Here we are again, another year, another birthday for our adopted "son" Chris. This is his first birthday as a father. We don't get to celebrate it with him, since he's down in San Diego and we're too broke to make the trip down. So instead, his brother Tommy came over and we baked a cake and made a little video for Chris. The cake was good. We're sad Chris didn't get to sample it!

Happy birthday anyway, Chris! Here's your video:

Welcome Spring!

2011-03-20T21:22:00.000-07:00

The first day of Spring has brought rain, rain, and just a little more rain. We have a loose tradition of inviting friends and family over and welcoming Spring with a vernal bar-b-que, but there was no way I was going to suggest Michael go stand in the pouring rain and thunder just so we could eat some grilled chicken. So this year, I used the Duchess and put together spicy White Lightning Chicken Chili. Because when it's chilly and miserable outside, it's nice to have something hot and spicy inside!

I have to admit that when I woke up this morning to dark clouds, pouring rain, thunder and lightning, and even a quick blackout, I felt a bit grumbly. We live in Los Angeles! We're supposed to have beautiful weather, year round! That's why we pay so much in rent, right? And this afternoon I had to drive up the 405 freeway in such intense rain that no one could go over 10 mph because the visibility was so poor. The sound of the rain was so loud! Again, I felt grumbly. While sitting in traffic my mind wandered to what I saw on the front page of the Sunday paper this morning. The headlines were screaming with terrible news about Libya and Japan and the many, many people who have lost everything in the last week, who have no shelter from the weather, and face very uncertain futures. Suddenly my van felt cozy instead of claustrophobic as the rain pounded the roof, and I was so grateful that we had a warm, safe house to go home to. In fact, I was so grateful, when we got home I baked a cake.

Dark chocolate cake, cream cheese frosting. Hooray for Spring!

Now if you have known me for more than a day, you know I don't need a special occasion to consume cake. But I tried to make a special occasion out of thin air (my specialty). Michael, Nathan, Benjamin and I sat at the table, eating cake, celebrating all we have to be grateful for, and sharing our hopes for the new season.

Speaking of sharing... I'll share something with you. My recipe for White Lightning Chicken Chili. Quite appropriate with all the thunder and lightning we're having!

White Lightning Chicken Chili

Ingredients:
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1 onion, chopped (feel free to use less, we're not big fans of onions)
3 cloves garlic, crushed
2 four ounce cans chopped green chile peppers
2 teaspoons ground cumin
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1/2 teaspoon ground cayenne pepper
28 ounces chicken broth (2 cans or make your own)
3 chopped, cooked, chicken breasts
3 fifteen ounce cans of white beans drained, rinsed

Directions:
Heat oil in Dutch oven (or large saucepan). Slowly cook and stir the onion until tender. Add garlic, green chile peppers, cumin, oregano, and cayenne. Continue to cook and stir the mixture for another three minutes. Mix in chicken broth, chicken, and beans. Simmer 20 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Serve with toppings such as: cheese, sour cream, crushed tortilla chips, avocado, etc.

Makes enough to fill eight bowls, easy to double for a crowd. You can reduce the spice by omitting the cayenne pepper and using mild chiles, but what fun would that be? Enjoy!

Japan Stories, Entry 2

2011-03-19T19:19:00.000-07:00

Nathan was wonderful on the flight and didn't scream once! Just about 1 minute of fussy-ness. All my coworkers who were on the same flight were disappointed that they didn't get a chance to hold him. They kept checking to see if he was crying so they could take him for a walk... nope! Our boy likes to be on the go!

Nathan's first flight: 11 hours in Business Class! He got his own seat. No lap sitting for this little prince!

Please just give me back my pacifier and get that light out of my face so I can go back to chillin'. I'm fine!

Our apartment is GREAT and is only about a 3-5 min walk to the train station, grocery stores, and shopping center. Heather is loving Japan (so far) and has decided the American people here in Japan are complete snobs compared to the Japanese. She tries to smile and converse with the Americans she sees at the train and bus stations and they always turn their nose or avert eye contact ... hmph!

This is what Jet Lag looks like on an 11 week old baby.

I have been incredibly busy at work, the project is moving at a pace I can barely keep up with (considering we haven't REALLY settled in yet). So, a lot of late/long hours for me ... that Heather isn't too thrilled about (someone's got to take Nathan off her hands for a little while, you know).

Nathan, we believe, has started teething (or at least cries and drools as though he has). So he has been an additionally pleasurable bundle of joy lately.

We spent the day at Tokyo Disneyland yesterday and had a good time (I'll let Heather fill in more details soon).

When we landed in Japan, there was snow on the ground! We weren't prepared for the weather at all. So we just put layer upon layer on Nathan. Brrrrr-ito!

Our shipment of clothes and personal effects has just arrived in port today. It takes about 5+ business days to go through customs, so we won't have our computer set up until sometime mid next week (at the earliest). So, please be patient and Heather will start writing MANY emails to everyone giving the play by play of what she is experiencing here.

We love you all and hope you are all doing well.

Michael (and Heather and Nathan)

My Reflections:

I could not believe our luck at being able to fly from Los Angeles to Tokyo without a peep from our baby! I sat next to him and Michael sat across the aisle from us. I'd feed him, and then Michael would take him to the bathroom to change his diaper, and then back he went into his car seat (you could still take a car seat on the plane in 2001). Whenever people ask for advice on flying with kids, I can only say, "The younger, the better!" based on our charmed experience.

I had to go several weeks without my computer because it was sent via boat with all the rest of our belongings. I guess it wasn't as big a deal then as it would be now... after all, without Facebook, Twitter, and very few people to email, what could I possibly have wanted to do on the computer, right?

It wasn't until months later that I found out why I was getting the cold shoulder from all the American Expats (I'll share about it when I get to it). Reading Michael's email brought it all back though! And yes, I made Michael promise that our first weekend in Japan would be spent at Tokyo Disneyland. What an experience that was! More Japan Stories coming next week!

Mr. Wonderful

2011-03-18T17:02:00.000-07:00

When I titled this blog Boy Wonder, it wasn't because I thought my boys were so wonderful. It was more about seeing the wonder of life through their eyes. Although they are pretty wonderful. And they come by it honestly because the truth is, I married Mr. Wonderful.

Photo by Michelle A. Moreno

And if you don't believe me, then I'll point you to an interview published today on EntertainmentDesigner.com which features my husband and our company, Cedar Stage Productions. Oh sure, the interview is great, but my favorite parts are where he points out that he takes the kids to school every day and that he got the inspiration for a project from doing the laundry. Yes, it's true. My man is a world class Technical Director, and he also does the laundry and takes the kids to school. Good thing he doesn't mention how he also does the dishes... wouldn't want you to be totally green with envy!

Head on over to EntertainmentDesigner.com and read the article by clicking HERE!

Happy Green Day!

2011-03-17T09:55:00.000-07:00

It's my second favorite day of the year! So much of my very favorite color everywhere you look! We really don't do anything to celebrate St. Patrick's Day other than wear a lot of green and wish my cousin Josh (currently living in Scotland) a Happy Birthday. Oh, and watch this funny version of Danny Boy by the Muppets. Enjoy!

Loopy

2011-03-16T10:15:00.000-07:00

With the economy being what it is (unpredictable/depressing/frightening), and my husband's job suddenly and unexpectedly being cut back to almost nothing, we've really had to tighten our belts. As I've mentioned before, we are aggressively trying to work our way out of debt (we've paid off 47%! Yay us!), so thankfully we are already in the habit of trying not to spend. I hate to use the dreaded F-word, but I'm really trying to figure out how we can be more Frugal (What? You were thinking of a different F-word?).

Wisdom from Dave Ramsey

I'm almost embarrassed to say it, but I've joined the coupon brigade. I've always dreaded this, as clipping coupons seemed to me a slight waste of time and money. Especially since we typically don't eat a lot of prepackaged, prepared foods that coupons typically hype. I may hate cooking, but four out of four Chases agree that my homemade lasagna tastes way better than the Stouffer's version.

However, after coming across a few blogs with tips on how to squeeze every last cent out of your budget, I figured I'd give it a try. I collect coupons every week from my in laws and several generous friends. We also got an almost-free one year subscription to the Sunday Los Angeles Times. So each week I sit down and clip almost every coupon from the various papers. Then I take the grocery ads for the five grocery stores within a five mile range of our house and match up what is in the ad with what I have coupons for. Then I only buy the things that we actually need, going (if I have to) to each of the five stores to get the best deal for particular products.

I've been doing this regularly since January, and per my register receipts, I've saved almost $800 in three months. Is $800 in three months worth an hour of my time every week? Heck yeah! Also per the receipts, I save anywhere from 55% to 70% on each shopping trip. Considering sales tax in our city is just shy of 10%, I'll take every percentage point I can get! The crazy thing is that I haven't changed our eating habits at all. We still don't have a stack of Stouffer's in the freezer or anything that ends in "Helper" in the pantry. What we do have is a house filled with soap, dishwasher detergent, toothbrushes, toothpaste, deodorant, OTC medicines, and a ton of brand name boxes of cereal that I've gotten absolutely free thanks to shopping only the sales and only for what I had a coupon for. And everything else I've gotten for at least 50% off. Far from being something to be slightly ashamed of (after all, we don't want to project that we're saving money, only that we have tons to spend, right?), I'm finding that I can't stop talking about it! No, I'm not going to turn this into one of those blogs about saving money and living frugally (there are a ton out there already), but I did want to share the impact this has had on the boys.

First of all, they see me sitting at the table, clipping coupons while they do homework. They see me with the ads, making a list and matching up the coupons. And both of them have come with me on separate shopping trips to see that I don't buy anything that isn't on sale that I also have a coupon for. When they start saying Oooooh Mom! Look! Fruity Candy Coma Roll Up Sugar Stix! Please-oh-please can I get some? All I have to say is, "I don't have a coupon and it's not on sale." And without whining or complaint, they say alright and walk away. All I can say is WHY DIDN'T I TRY THIS SOONER?

However, kids being kids, they still want their Fruity Candy Coma Roll Up Sugar Stix, and yesterday I won the Best Mom in the Galaxy award from my children because I brought home five boxes of Froot Loops.

Good source of Fiber! Made with Whole Grain! Sprinkles!

Five boxes of Froot Loops that I got for free, mind you. I had five about-to-expire $1 off any Kellogg's Cereal coupons, and Froot Loops were on sale buy two, get three free. I think I actually made money off this little sale/coupon combo. Which I used to buy fresh produce of course!

Michael did a triple take at the Froot Loops, because I normally forbid food of this kind in our house. Filled with sugar and food coloring, it goes against every instinct I have about how children (or adults that matter) should be eating. But you know what? I really didn't mind at all this time, which won't be repeated. We're all sacrificing, pitching in, and pinching pennies. And it's tough to constantly be saying no to every request that costs money. So surprising the boys with something I would normally always say no to (even if it was always free), was like reassuring them that although times are tight, we're not destitute. At least not yet. Oh no, we're simply a little loopy from our sugar high!

Japan Stories, Entry 1

2011-03-15T21:56:00.000-07:00

In 2001, my husband Michael and I put everything we owned into storage and moved to Japan for just shy of a year with our newborn baby, Nathan. Since this happened before the age of blogging, my records of that time consist of emails I sent to the few people we knew who had email, and the journal entries I kept. In light of the recent events in Japan, my thoughts naturally turn to our precious time in that country. For the next month I'll be posting various highlights of our time there. Thanks for coming along with me on this international stroll down memory lane!

Let's start at the very beginning, a very good place to start... How about we start with how we ended up in Japan to begin with?

In early 1999, Michael started working on what was to be Disney's newest theme park, Tokyo DisneySea. It was a second park for Tokyo, built to compliment Tokyo Disneyland and satisfy the insatiable desire for more Disney magic from the Japanese fans. When Michael took the job as an assistant technical director, he was told that it would not require him to even go on a single business trip to Japan. Of course, as the project progressed, things changed. One by one, almost all of Michael's fellow technical directors found out that their wives were expecting a baby. And one by one, all of them quickly found other projects to work on so they wouldn't have to spend a lot of time away from home and the new babies. Michael was promoted to full technical director, and in early 2000, we found out we too were expecting our first child.

Since he was now a full tech director, a few business trips to Japan were expected. And like his fellow expectant TD's before him, Michael scrambled to find other work that wouldn't take him away from us. When they found out that we too were having a baby (what was in that water, anyway?), his bosses sat him down and laid it on the line: they needed him, and expected him to stay on the project. It was just as well, because there was no other work to be found.

As my due date neared, we found out that Michael was going to be sent to Japan for a 120 day period almost immediately after I gave birth. We were incredibly depressed. This was our first baby and his Daddy was going to miss the first four months of his life. We had three options, none that we were very happy about. One, the baby and I could follow Michael (on our own dime) and stay in his teeny, tiny Japanese hotel room. This was totally unappealing, having never been a parent (or frankly around babies) before. What would happen in an emergency in a foreign country? Two, I could stay in our rented townhouse in Anaheim alone. I would be far from my parents, far from my in laws. This wasn't very appealing either. I was having a terrible pregnancy, had no idea what kind of mother I would make, and had no desire to be left alone for so long. Three, we could pack up the townhouse, put everything in storage, and I could go stay for four months with my Mom and Dad on the Central Coast of California. We'd save the money on rent, and when Michael came back, we could find a place closer to his office in Glendale, saving him from his 90 minute commute each direction. Of the three options, this was ever so slightly more appealing than the other two.

So we started preparing for three things, the birth of our child, my move to my parents', and our separation for four long months. Did I mention that we were very depressed? We were. My due date came and went. We were scheduled to be induced a week after my due date. After forty hours of excruciating back labor followed by an emergency c-section, Nathan arrived.

After a week long stay at the hospital, we finally went home on Thanksgiving with so much to be thankful for.

Michael went on a short trip to Japan when Nathan was two weeks old, leaving me to recover in the capable hands of the Grandmothers. When he returned, we made a trip up to my parents' house for Christmas.

The date of Michael's four month trip to Japan was pushed back until mid-January. We lived up every minute we had together, but I can't fully express the sorrow that both Michael and I were feeling. It didn't stop us from taking a bunch of silly photos with our favorite new "prop."

As we were packing up and getting ready to head home right after New Year's Day, Mike got a call from his boss. Instead of sending Michael to Japan for four months, they were going to send him for a full year. And because of the extra time, the company would pay for an extended relocation package that included bringing the entire family, an actual home to live in, Japanese lessons, and a person on call 24 hours a day who could assist us with any type of emergencies, doctor visits, or anything else we needed. The only catch? We had exactly four weeks until we would board the plane.

We went into crazy mode, calling in favors from every family member within a 90 mile radius and all of our friends. We had to pack everything and put it into storage, and we had to purchase anything we thought we might need for the coming year, including clothing, medicine, books, and baby stuff. I barely knew what a newborn needed... how do you plan for what a six month old or a nine month old might need? And it's true, we weren't moving to a third world country, you can buy baby things in Japan. However things in Japan were up to ten times more expensive than they were in the US. A little planning and foresight would go a long way.

I don't really know how we did it, especially with a new baby. I had a difficult pregnancy, a difficult delivery, and Nathan was a difficult, colicky baby, but I was bound and determined that the one area my baby would excel in would be sleeping. And you know what? From the day we brought him home from the hospital, Nathan never slept less than six hours at night. Of course, we weren't sleeping while he slept... we were packing!

Finally the day came for us to get on a plane to leave. Both sets of grandparents and Michael's youngest sister and hubby came to see us off. Everyone was crying, especially Nathan. In fact, he was crying so hard that all the people in the terminal around us were giving us looks that would have turned weaker people into ash on the spot. Michael and I grew fearful over what an 11 hour flight with a ten week old screaming baby would be like. But we had tickets to ride (in business class no less!), so we bid everyone a fond farewell, and we got on that plane.

Good bye everyone!

Peeps!

2011-03-12T22:31:00.000-08:00

There are two kinds of people in this world...

People who love Peeps, and people who don't.

My Dad and I? We LOVE Peeps.

My Husband? He most decidedly does NOT.

My kids? Well, I just don't know. I'm not a very good sharer, at least when it comes to Peeps, so they haven't really sampled them (probably better that way, being 100% sugar and all).

My Dad and I love our Peeps the same way... unwrapped for a week until the sugar has become a stale crust and it makes a grinding sound on your teeth when you chew it up, and the marshmallow is more like saltwater taffy than fluffy marshmallow. Yum!

I saw these little plush Peeps in the store last weekend, and texted this sweet pic to my Dad.

On his cell phone, he thought they were just oversized Peeps and desperately wanted to know how he could get his hands on some! They had the little plush ducky Peeps too. Benjamin, who loves every fluffy small plush creature on planet Earth, wanted these so badly! Alas, at $6.99, they had to stay at the store. Besides, what good are Peeps if you can't eat them?

What about you? Which side of the Peeps spectrum do you fall on? Don't worry, we can still be friends if you hate them. After all, I'm married to a guy who despises them!

Thoughts on Japan

2011-03-12T12:17:00.000-08:00

So relieved to report that we've heard from every last one of our friends in Japan! Yesterday was a terrible day for me emotionally, on top of which I'm sick and have been sick all week long. I finally dragged myself into urgent care last night (more accurately is that my husband force me to go) only to find that I've yet another sinus infection.

While the doctor examined me, her cell phone, which was on vibrate, keeping going off. She apologized profusely and said it was her family in India, all calling about the earthquake and expected tsunami in California. She said they didn't quite understand that she was in no danger - it was really the people of Japan they should be worried about. I mentioned that we'd lived in Japan and still hadn't heard from our friends. She asked if I was worried. My answer was to start crying. Which is a somewhat painful thing to do when one has a sinus infection.

Throughout the night, my email inbox filled up with messages from our friends in Japan, all reporting that they were safe and sound. One family has relocated to a shelter. The aftershocks are strong and frightening. Despite all this, they asked if we are okay, if we were hit hard by the tsunami! What a question! There have been reports of minor damage along the coast of California, but it's no comparison to the photos and reports coming in hourly from Japan.

When Katrina battered New Orleans, I felt sorrow. When the earthquake leveled Haiti, I was so sad. But this event in Japan has affected me deeply.

Japan is a place I have lived and loved. It is inextricably linked with Nathan's babyhood and my own change in identity from being simply a woman and wife to that of mother. Its language has burrowed its way into my head. Its the one place that causes me to regularly say, "If I couldn't live in Los Angeles, the only other place I'd want to live is Japan," and, "Michael knows he doesn't even have to ask me if he gets another job offer in Japan: we're going." I love it in a powerful way that defies description or explanation. But I want to try.

When we lived in Japan, it was 2001. Which was just a decade ago. But a decade ago there were no blogs, no Twitter, no Facebook, and very few websites. Certainly no personal family websites. There was barely even email! Our moving to Japan with their newborn grandson was what forced my parents to finally get an email account! Most people only had email for work. Digital cameras were new, and very expensive (we had to buy one for Michael for work, the cheapest one was over $700). So while we were in Japan, I sent hundreds of postcards. I still have my list in a notebook of all the people I sent a postcard to. I'd work my way down the list of 145 people, and then start back up again at the top. It was my own personal version of Twitter! I also composed an email every couple of weeks to send to a very small group of people who had email. Then I'd print the email and mail it to another dozen or so of my closest friends and family who didn't have email. Just writing this makes me feel like that was a century ago, not just ten years ago! So much has changed!

After we returned from Japan, Michael compiled all my emails, journal entries, and reflections, took them to a printer, and had them bound into a book. It was crazy expensive (well before our current years of being able to self publish a book cheaply!), but incredibly thoughtful and very treasured. Some of the emails are from Michael, and it's interesting to see what his thoughts were. I'm thinking that I'd like to revisit those old stories and post them here, one each day. Maybe through my words you'll see what it is about Japan that has burrowed so deeply into my heart.

Earthquake, Heartbreak

2011-03-11T10:12:00.000-08:00

We are in shock over the news from Japan today. We have reached out to contact our friends there and received no response yet. We live right on the coastline of southern California and they closed off our beaches for fear of a tsunami, due to hit here within the next 20 minutes or so. They're only predicting a maximum of a three foot tall wave, so aside from any boats in the harbor, we won't really see any damage. Reports from Hawaii are good so far. But the reports from Japan? The video below is heartbreaking. Hard to believe it is real, and not some CGI footage from a movie about the end of the world. Seeing structures in flames, moving across fields, and cars racing down the roads trying to outrun the onslaught of debris and water are unforgettable images. We're all so fragile, aren't we?

Developmental Discontinuity

2011-03-11T00:01:00.000-08:00

I've always purchased shoes for the boys that don't have laces. They either had Velcro closures or slipped on without the use of laces. Our favorites are the Merrell Jungle Mocs, which just slip on and and last until the boys grow out of them. Since we take our shoes off in our house (habit borne of living in Asian countries), it's always been so much easier to have shoes the kids can put on and take off quickly and easily and most of all, without my help.

A year or so ago, Benjamin got a pair of shoes that had laces. I can't remember where they came from... either my parents bought them or someone gave them to him. All I know is that I did not buy them. But Ben loved them! I think the novelty of being able to tie laces was a ton of fun for him. I didn't teach him how, he just figured it out on his own, a fact which he was happy to tell anyone who listened.

This week our friend got new shoes for the boys. Benjamin had been asking for a new pair with laces and he was so excited to pick out a pair he loved. Nathan, on the other hand, was being a lunatic and in the interest of getting quickly out of the shoe store, said he was happy with the first pair he tried on. Which happened to have laces. The first pair of shoes with laces that Nathan has ever had.

Nathan, at age 10, can't tie his own laces! We're trying to teach him, but I know he's embarrassed when he comes out of class with his laces untied and has to ask me to do it for him. Yesterday I tried to have him do it on his own (photo above), and he tied some knots that a sailor would be proud of. Great if you're on a ship, not so great for shoes.

I wonder how many other skills and developmental milestones my boys are lacking because I took the easier way out? I know my parents did some similar things while raising my brother and I. There are big gaps in my own skills. In the areas of cooking and housekeeping, for instance. It was (and still is!) easier for my parents to just shoo us kids out of the kitchen than it was to let us in and learn how to cook. Which meant that when I went away to college and got a tiny apartment of my own at 18, I had no idea how to cook anything. I could make a PB and J sandwich, but couldn't even make spaghetti. Had no idea how to cut up lettuce to make a salad. And housekeeping is a similar story. My only job growing up was dusting. And today, I'm a great duster. My mom is an ace house keeper. Seriously, I've never seen a cleaner, neater house than hers! But she never taught how to hand wash dishes or even load a dishwasher, how to vacuum, wash windows, or scrub toilets. My mother-in-law did a great job of teaching her kids these skills. I'm always amazed at how quickly and perfectly my husband can wash down our stove top. He does in 10 minutes what takes me (no lie) an hour.

To make sure my boys end up being good cooks and housekeepers (and sweep their future wives off their feet!), I've been diligent about teaching them these things. At age 7, Benjamin is responsible for the laundry of everyone in the entire family. He sorts like nobody's business! At age 10, Nathan gets the joyous task of doing the dishes and putting everything away where it belongs. We clean the house as a family, and everyone is proficient with a broom, dust pan, and vacuum. Both the boys are allowed in the kitchen and can read a recipe. Ben is a mini-chef and he would do fine if we stopped feeding him and he had to fend for himself. Nathan... well, he's less interested. That won't stop me from trying to at least get some basics into him.

It's hardest to teach my kids the things that neither my husband nor I have fully mastered. Things like patience, self-control, and staying calm. I mess up all the time there, but I always sit down with the kids when I blow it and tell them that it's so important for them to practice these things now while they are young, so it will be so much easier when they are grown up. We'll see how it goes. In the meantime, I've got to google tips on teaching a kid to tie their laces...

I Heart Monkeys

2011-03-10T10:00:00.000-08:00

When I was a kid, I was obsessed with monkeys.

I had a plush monkey collection that could completely fill a black Hefty trash bag to the very top. I know this, because I once toted the entire collection to school for show-and-tell. The teacher told me I had to pick just my favorite to show everyone, but each time I pulled out a new monkey, that one was my favorite. So I managed to show them all by saying, "oh wait! This one is my favorite!"

From kindergarten to about fourth grade, I ran track for a local team that practiced and held meets at Moorpark College. Do you know why I loved going to track practice? Well, just above the track, Moorpark College has a Zoo. It's a teaching zoo for The Exotic Animal Training and Management Program. Bet you can't guess what kind of Exotic Animals they had there? That's right, monkeys. Three times a week I got to peer through the bars and commune with the monkeys. I wanted one for my very own. My parents, being practical, took me to talk to one of the zoo keepers. "Monkeys are dirty, mean, and don't make good pets. They will throw poo at you and scratch you up," said the zoo keeper. It did nothing to squelch my love for the furry creatures or my desire to own one of my own.

In fourth grade my class went to the Los Angeles Zoo. I'd saved up my allowance with the thought of getting another plush monkey to add to my growing collection. Two memorable things happened that day. First, I met Ricky Schroder of Silver Spoons fame who was at the zoo filming a public service announcement. Be still my young heart! And second, I found a bumper sticker that said I Love Monkeys. Which I bought. Because it was true, I did love monkeys.

Now before I go any further, let me tell you a little bit about my feelings toward bumper stickers. I grew up in a No-Bumper-Sticker-Family. Which means it didn't matter if I was elected president of the United States, my parents would not be sporting a "My child is President of the United States" bumper sticker. So when I asked if we could put the I Love Monkeys bumper sticker on our car, the answer was NO. Now I'm a grown up and have owned a whopping total of six cars since the age of 15 1/2, and not a single one of them has ever had a bumper sticker. In fact, when my husband surprised me by buying the Mommy-mobile mini van I currently drive, it had a 25th Anniversary of E.T. sticker on the window, part of a cross promtion with Toyota and E.T. My response? I love the van! With all my heart! But the sticker must go!

When I had my boys, I called them my little monkeys. I still do. Because they are just like little monkeys. Adorable, yet still sometimes mean, and they will scratch you if you don't trim their nails. And although they've never thrown poo, they both have a diaper blowout story still capable of making my stomach turn (I'll save them for another day. You're welcome). When it's time to go, I say "Let's go, Monkeys!" When it's after lights out and they are still awake and goofing off, I say "Stop monkeying around you Monkeys!" They even climb trees like monkeys!

October 2007: Ben age 4, Nathan almost 7

When we moved out of our old house and into our current one, I was sifting through old boxes in the garage. And guess what I came across? My old I Love Monkeys bumper sticker. It was like being in a time machine... I was suddenly transported back to the 4th grade in my room full of plush monkeys in our house in Simi Valley, California. It was still in perfect condition, having never been stuck to anything in all these years. I was so excited! I showed it to my husband and to Chris and his very-pregnant wife, Alyssa, who happened to be there helping us pack up to move. Actually, Chris was helping, Alyssa was sitting and trying to stay hydrated in the August heat.

An hour later we all hopped in the van to get some lunch at the air conditioned mall. We had a nice meal with lots of refills of lemonade. We walked back out to the van, and this is what I saw:

My van, with an I Love Monkeys bumper sticker permanently affixed to the bumper. Not just any I Love Monkeys bumper sticker, but the actual one from my childhood. My husband had secretly pulled it from the box and affixed it to the van. I'm not proud of what happened next.

I flipped out.

In front of the boys, my husband, Chris and Alyssa, and a whole bunch of other spectators in the mall parking lot. I totally let Michael have it. "I do not come from a family who puts bumper stickers on their cars! And now I'll be driving around town with a bumper sticker that proclaims that I Love Monkeys!You have ruined my sticker, which I have saved all these years in perfect condition! Even if we remove it, it will destroy it! And it will probably destroy my bumper too! Everyone is going to ask me questions! What were you thinking! Gaaaahhhh!!!!"

I cringe thinking about it, because honestly, Michael and I rarely fight. You'd think that wouldn't be the case, since we're both intelligent, passionate, strong willed, and have deep convictions about things. The potential for us to fight about a dozen different things is there every single day. But we don't fight about those things. No, we (and by we, I mean I) just fight about stupid and inconsequential things like bumper stickers.

Michael just stood there, looking sheepish and perplexed by the firestorm being lobbed in his direction, while everyone else stared at me with wide open eyes. Of course, my amazing husband totally diffused the situation by looking at me, taking my hand, and saying, "But Heather, you DO love monkeys. It's true." And then the boys sweetly spoke up, "Yeah Mom, you love monkeys."

I sighed in defeat. The sticker is still there, proclaiming my love of monkeys for anyone lucky enough to get behind me. And yeah, people ask me about it all the time. But there is a wonderful, silly, and sweet thing that came out of all this. When Chris and Alyssa had their beautiful baby boy, Eli, their nickname for him was.. you guessed it... Monkey. So yeah, I love monkeys. I even have the bumper sticker to prove it. What 'cha gonna do about it, huh? Huh?

My Monkey Boys meeting Alyssa's Monkey Boy Elijah for the first time, October 5, 2010

Iconoclast

2011-03-02T11:23:00.000-08:00

I picked up comic book-sized drawing tablets with thick paper at the local Japanese market, Marukai. Originally, I just got one for Nathan, since he's on a comic kick and there are loose papers all over the house covered in his sketches. I wanted him to have a single place to do all his drawings, and what could be better than a tablet especially created for manga for my comic loving boy? But considering the price (98 cents), I figured Benjamin would appreciate one as well.

Picking up the living room after the boys were in bed, I came across Ben's tablet and flipped through it. Like the excellent student that he is (he's so different from the other 3/4ths of the Chase family!) he's used his tablet to create a homework reminder guide, telling him that he has to do spelling on Mondays, math on Tuesdays, etc. And then I came to this page:

Rehearsal, Breakdown, Iconoclast

I was puzzled. Ben is 7 and in the second grade, and his spelling words are things like Circle, Doubt, and a bonus word, President. I never shy away from using big words with them, even when little ones will do, so the boys do have rich vocabularies. But I've never seen either of them make a list like this. We work in entertainment, so he's heard the word Rehearsal. A lot. Breakdown? Well, that's a common word. Cars break down, rides at Disneyland break down. But iconoclast? He's a voracious reader, but I can't imagine that's a word used in Diary of a Wimpy Kid or Captain Underpants.

Iconoclast, noun. 1: a person who destroys religious images or opposes their veneration. 2: a person who attacks settled beliefs or institutions

For several days I kept forgetting to ask him about his list. When I finally did, he was totally nonchalant. "Those words? Oh they're from a vocabulary game on my DSi [handheld video game device]. They looked interesting so I wrote them down."

Benjamin is an iconoclast when it comes to my settled beliefs that video games simply rot your brain and don't have any redeeming qualities beyond a good leveraging tool when I want the kids to behave a certain way or do a certain task.

Carry on, my sesquipedalian boy. Carry on.

Happy Matching Family

2011-02-24T20:43:00.000-08:00

My boys, as you may have noticed, dress in matching clothes quite often. This is a tradition (habit?) that goes all the way back to June of 2003 when I went from having one child to a pair of children. Here is our very first family portrait as a family of four. Although you can't really see it, both baby Benjamin and Nathan are wearing while collared shirts and tan shorts (overalls in Ben's case).

My urge to dress my children alike goes all the way back to my own childhood, when I saw Julie Andrews make clothing for the children in her charge from bedroom curtains, resulting in this:

Having only a brother, I dreamt of the day I'd have two little girls that I could make dresses for, who would always be dressed alike. Of course, that didn't happen.

What happened instead is that my sister-in-law, Heather (great name!) had two little boys, our nephews Tanner and Braxton. She bought (or received as gifts) lots of amazing little boys clothes that matched or coordinated. When Tanner and Braxton grew out of their clothes, Nathan and Benjamin were the lucky recipients. I dressed them alike a lot, mainly because I happened to have a plethora of matching clothes to dress them in.

At the time Benjamin was born, we lived quite close to a Baby Gap Outlet. And if you have a baby boy, the cutest clothes on Earth to dress him in can be found at the Baby Gap. So I'd go find super cheap clothes at the outlet that matched, like the tees below featuring a little green snake. I think they were 99 cents apiece. Kinda cute on its own, but pair it with a brother also sporting a snake shirt? Way cuter.

When we moved back to the Los Angeles area, I discovered an Old Navy outlet, and suddenly the boys were sporting lots of matching rugby shirts.

The family got in on the fun, and started buying matching shirts for the boys.

When we moved to Hong Kong, I purposely dressed the boys alike, generally in bright colors, because it was so much easier to keep track of them when we were out and about (not that they didn't stand out with their blonde hair).

And then of course once they started school, I made sure that they wore matching outfits for the first day of school, the last day of school, and for their official school photos.

Now when I shop for a shirt for one of them, the other will inevitably ask if they can get one just like their brother's. My parents always buy them heavy winter coats (because we only ever need heavy winter coats when we visit them), and they always buy them matching jackets. These are their current jackets, worn over matching shirts at a Bakersfield Condors ice hockey game:

It doesn't stop at clothes! The matching has spread into their sleepwear! Although to be honest, we go to a Christmas pajama party every year at a friend's house, and I always pick up (or sew) cute matching Christmas pj's with that party in mind (Thanks cousins Emma and Rebekah for the Beyblades in this pic!).

Friends who have kids older than mine say, "Just wait, they'll get sick of dressing alike and rebel against it." But you know what? They do it on their own. Even if they don't have an exact match, if Nathan puts on a green shirt, Ben will too. On purpose. Without any prompting from me.

The whole matching thing has become a little phenomenon I like to call Happy Matching Family. Because if a family is all dressed alike, they have to be happy, right? Okay, maybe not. But it does remind me of the awesome family portraits on Awkward Family Photos, which always make me laugh, and what is happier than laughter? Nothing!

Recently, we planned a Disneyland day with some friends. I jokingly said "What are we going to wear? We have to play Happy Matching Family!" And then all the girls squealed in delight and instead of just joking about it, I actually did something about it. I made a stencil of Mickey Mouse and some letters, hand painted tee shirts with everyone's names on them, and then appliqued on a hair bow or a bow tie according to gender, leaving Nat and Ben's plain.

And then we all wore them, and got the bucket-loads of attention that a group of outrageous Disney fanatics wearing clever personalized Disney themed tee shirts deserve. Did the boys groan and shy away from the attention? No. No they did not. They cheered and squealed right alongside the goofy adults every time someone said, "Whoa! Those shirts are so rad! Where did you get them?"

Yes, I know that Nathan and Ben and their habit of matching will (might?) end at some point. But I hope we can count on another few years of dressing like a Happy Matching Family at the Happiest Place on Earth. It's just more fun.

And if that photo above doesn't make you want to go to Disneyland, then I'm just not trying hard enough!

Brothers, Friends

2011-02-21T18:45:00.000-08:00

They're brothers by birth, of course.

Please oh please let them grow up to be friends.

Mission San Antonio de Padua

2011-02-20T18:17:00.000-08:00

We have a fourth grader in the house, and if you are living in California, you know what that means: the California Mission Project!

Mission San Antonio de Padua

My husband did one, but my fourth grade year was spent at a tiny private school in the San Fernando Valley and I completely missed out on it. The California Missions are such an amazing part of California history. There are lots of great resources on the web if you want to read up on them.

Most fourth grade classes in California have the students build a model of a Mission. It's become a little cottage industry, and craft stores here sell Styrofoam kits and countless accessories to go with them. Nathan's teacher gave the kids a choice of 5 or 6 different projects, not just limiting them to building a model. One option was making a video journal. Since Nathan recently saved up to buy himself a Flip video camera, this seemed like the perfect choice for him. He got to choose any Mission, but I encouraged him to go with Mission San Antonio de Padua in Monterey County. Three reasons: first, it's the only Mission on a military base. Second, San Antonio was a very musical Mission, teaching the local Native Americans how to sing and play instruments and read music, and Nathan likes music. And three, it's in the town where I lived during high school which meant a visit to the Grandparents' house and some catching up with old friends. It didn't take a lot to persuade him. Nathan heard "there are tanks on the military base..." and he was sold. The first three day weekend we had available was this past weekend, so up we went.

We stopped at Mission San Miguel on the way, since I knew it was tiny compared to Mission San Antonio and it would be good for Nathan to get that perspective.

Interior of Mission San Miguel Archangel

Most impressive for the boys was the cemetery, with its elaborate marble headstones of people long departed. Back in the car, we headed for Lockwood, California, where the population has now climbed into the 400 range (per the sign as we entered), which is up from the 123 that resided there the four years I called it home.

We entered Fort Hunter Liggett without incident and made our way to Mission San Antonio. It hasn't changed a bit since I was there last in 1993. And you know what? It actually hasn't changed all that much from when it was originally built back in 1771! Because Mission San Antonio has only had three owners and due to its location on an Army base in the middle of nowhere, it's still quite rustic and unspoiled and it's quite easy to see exactly what it would have been like 200+ years ago.

Nathan did a great job on his video, but you can tell he's far more accustomed to being behind the camera than in front of it, as evidenced by the many ummms and errrrs. However, ALL the words on the video are his own, we'd talk about what we were seeing and then we'd just film him telling us about it... totally unscripted. Also, try as I might, I could not get Nathan to pronounce "Padua" correctly (or any of the Spanish words for that matter). So it's "Pah-DOO-uh" here. I hope you enjoy it and maybe learn a little something. Nathan had fun, but I was thrilled that he actually learned so much while we were there. We all learn differently, but Nathan is a classic kinesthetic (tactile) learner, which means he does best when he can actually experience something.

Without further ado, please join me for a screening of Nathan's California Mission Project video:

Cans for Pounds

2011-02-16T23:00:00.000-08:00

My friend Ron works in construction. Like so many people, he found himself out of work last fall. One night his wife was shaving his head and his son snapped a photo of him. Ron was horrified by the photo and how, um, round he had become:

He decided to do something about it. Since he was already out of work, he had a lot of time to devote to it. He wanted a little accountability as he sought to lose weight, so he came up with a plan: Cans for Pounds. He asked people to sponsor his weight loss for 90 days by donating one can of food for every pound that he lost, which he would then deliver to a small local food bank that feeds 200-300 homeless and hungry each week. I enthusiastically signed up to support him, but I told Ron that I would only donate up to 50 cans. He thought I was crazy and told me there was no way he'd lose anywhere close to 50 pounds... 25 or 30 would be his max.

For the last 90 days, Ron has gone running every single day. He pushed himself daily until he was drenched in sweat. He focused only on cardio, not on doing any weightlifting. Without a gym membership, he used the local park and the beach as his personal fitness center. He went running no matter what the the weather was like, including the week when we got pouring non-stop rain. He cut out all the sodas and junk food, and focused on eating healthy and being very careful with portion control. He got a bunch of other people to join in with him as well, and they all started gathering at the beach on Saturday mornings for workouts, which included running up and down the 74 steps from the Strand to the street level. When it got tough, Ron thought of how many additional cans of food would be donated if he just pushed himself a little harder. When he hit a plateau, he changed things up and invented all sorts of crazy games, like throwing a 16 pound bowling ball across the sand, running to it, picking it up, and throwing it again down the shoreline. He found he could run 10 miles and describe it as easy. He started a Facebook Fan Page, and people from all over California (and even some in Canada!) started their own Cans for Pounds campaigns. One guy lost 9 pound in 6 weeks, and because he had so many sponsors, donated over 400 cans of food to a local food bank! But let's get back to Ron. Want to know how many pounds he lost in 90 days?

He lost 50 pounds!

Ron before (at 241 pounds):

Ron after (at 191 pounds):

Ron came to our house tonight to pick up the cans we'd been saving for the last three months. When he came to the door, we were all so shocked to see him! What a transformation! He said that he's lost count of how many total cans have been donated through the Cans for Pounds challenge, but it's somewhere in the 4,000 range. Can you imagine? I'm so inspired! Ron helped himself by lowering his weight and getting in shape, but he also helped countless other people right here in our local community who would otherwise be going hungry during the lean months that follow Thanksgiving and Christmas. And do you want to hear the best part? Two days before the 90 days of the challenge wrapped up, Ron got hired on a big job. So now he's back to work on a construction site, in better shape and with way more stamina than he ever had. I'm certain that he wouldn't have been able to have such a profound weight loss if he was putting in 10 hour days on a work site. Things always happen for a reason, including long spells of unemployment!

I'm so grateful that we are friends with Ron, his wonderful wife Selena, and their three amazing boys who have all been featured here on the blog in the last couple of years. I hope Ron's story inspired you... if not for losing weight, than at least in looking at how you can make a positive difference in the world around you! If you're interesting in doing your own Cans for Pounds challenge, hop on over to the Facebook fan page and Ron will give you lots of tips and tons of inspiration!

Anyone Can Cook!

2011-02-08T14:40:00.000-08:00

The husband and I were up late one night, folding laundry and flipping the TV channels. We paused on the Disney Channel and ended up watching most of Ratatouille. It's such a strange/gross/cute/funny movie, isn't it? My favorite thing about the movie is the character of the recently deceased Auguste Gusteau, chef, television star, and author of a book called Anyone Can Cook. He was convinced that anyone could indeed cook, which is the inspiration for a little rat named Remy to end up as a chef. Ick. But kinda cool.

I didn't learn to cook until I was 18 and in college, living in a teeny-tiny apartment by myself. I had no idea how to do anything other than put a frozen entree in the microwave. A cousin of mine took me under her wing and taught me how to make a few things, including a recipe I called "Slimy Green Burritos." I made them for my husband while we were engaged, and he thought they were so good, he made up a song about them! "Oh yeah they're green! Oh yeah they're sliiiiiimy! Oi, Oi, they're burritos!"

Both of my parents are great cooks, they just didn't want us kids in the kitchen (they still don't! We get kicked out even if we just want to hang out and talk while they're cooking or cleaning the kitchen!). But considering I still feel handicapped in the area of cooking, and take absolutely no pleasure in it, I've decided to make sure the kids get plenty of opportunity to get in the kitchen and make things.

Ben is working on a cooking patch for Cub Scouts and part of the requirements involved choosing a recipe, preparing a meal, setting the table, and cleaning up. Ben chose to make a chicken enchilada dish. It's super easy to throw together and really hard to get wrong.

The only thing I helped him with was double checking that he'd done each step of the recipe correctly, and to put it in the oven and take it out. The rest was all Ben! He was very proud of himself, but I don't think it was anywhere as close to the level of pride I felt in seeing my youngest son donning an apron and concentrating on doing a great job.

We got the recipe from a can of Carnation Evaporated Milk, which you can get at this link. The only difference is that we use green enchilada sauce instead of red. Because I'm not the only one around here who likes green!

Need a boost?

2011-02-02T16:44:00.000-08:00

We are going through a pretty rough time of it lately. It's been one of those ~~days~~ ~~weeks~~ months where we seem to be getting pummeled non-stop from every corner! We've been pretty low key about it publicly, not ones to moan and groan and complain. However, one of our friends noticed something wasn't quite right, and she and her husband went out of their way to do something so incredibly thoughtful for our family that I was just completely blown away. We all were. It was just a small thing, but it made all the difference to us. And it reminded me that we need to pay attention to those around us. Be on the lookout for our friends and family who are quietly struggling and need an ear to listen, a shoulder to cry on, or just some kind words of encouragement. Do you have someone in your life who could use a little boost? Why don't you give it to them? Go on, do it!

Speaking of boosts, take a look at the amazing booster seat below:

I'm dying from the cleverness! You can get one from House 8810 for $25.

The Phone Book Fairy came last night and left us a thick Yellow Pages and a medium sized White Pages phone book. We never bring them into the house, we always simply deposit them directly in the recycle bin (we have tried, to no avail, to get our address removed from delivery). Before this morning, the boys have never even seen a phone book before! It was funny trying to explain to them what it was, and why people (used to) need them. They both agreed that it's much better to be able to access the "phone book" right from the Internet browser on your phone! The cute Yellow Pages booster seat above would be totally lost on them, but I remember sitting on a real one back in the day! This would have been so much nicer!

Meet The Duchess

2011-01-18T23:05:00.000-08:00

I have two small obsessions.

#1 The color Green

#2 Alice in Wonderland

For Christmas, I got something that combined the two:

6 quart Dutch Oven

The green part is pretty obvious. But you're not getting the Alice connection, right? I'll get to that.

A year or two ago, this little (big!) beauty popped up on my Amazon.com home page and I gasped at the gloriousness of its bright green color. I put it on my wish list, not even knowing what a "Dutch Oven" was. I simply knew that if I had something as beautiful as that, it could prove to inspire me to spend more time in the kitchen. My husband secretly agreed (he loves my cooking way more than I like to cook) and the next time he bought something from Amazon, he bought this too. Not wanting to give me a cooking pot in the middle of the year for no reason, he taped up the box and wrote "For Heather, Christmas." In the last year I have moved the very heavy box from place to place in the house. What is in that heavy box?, I repeatedly asked him. His lips were sealed. My curiosity never got the best of me, but it was close! Christmas finally came, and I opened it, completely surprised and delighted. It's even more beautiful in person, and has pride of place on display on our stove top 24 hours a day.

*sigh* Isn't she pretty? Of course, another thing that inspires me to cook a lot is that oven/stove... it's so fancy and high tech that I'm convinced you could launch that thing into outer space!

So back to Alice. We have a way of naming things around here. Of course, when I say "we" I mean me. And I felt like this beautiful girl needed a name. Since I love green and frequently say things like "Green, Green, I'm a Queen," I thought Queenie would be a good thing to call it. But after I cooked my first meal in my first Dutch Oven, Queenie didn't sound right. That day I'd been hanging some Alice in Wonderland art in our dining room, and I came across one of my very favorite pieces.

This comes from a book published in 1916, given away to children from the Hancock-Nelson Mercantile Company in Saint Paul, Minnesota. It was illustrated by Gordon Robinson. I love the artwork, with its prominent use of green throughout. While researching where it came from, I found the book here, listed for $200. Like so much of my Alice collection, I received it as a gift when someone gave it to me from their dusty old study (Side note: If you have a dusty old Alice in your collection, I will give her an excellent home and she'll be in good company, on prominent display!).

I especially love this piece, representing my favorite part of the Alice story. Alice meets the Cheshire Cat for the first time in a kitchen where a cook is using way too much pepper in the soup, and the Duchess sits holding a frightfully ugly baby, which later turns into a pig in Alice's care. Curiouser and curiouser indeed!

While looking at this picture, and smelling the amazing baked potato soup that was simmering away in my new Dutch Oven... it dawned on me. What else could she be called but the Duchess? The boys and my husband agreed it was a fitting name (they indulge my quirkiness). So the Duchess it is. And now I'm collecting and trying out recipes that are perfect for cooking in a Dutch Oven, which as it turns out, is a type of cooking vessel that has been around hundreds of years! And I'm just finding out about it now. Goes to show you, the kitchen is close to the last place I'd want to spend my time. But I must confess, my beautiful Duchess is doing her best to draw me in! Recipes to follow!

Our 2010 Christmas Card

2011-01-02T11:31:00.000-08:00

For the first time ever, we had something other than the self-timer button on the camera to capture our family photo for our annual Christmas card. The lovely and talented Danielle of Danielle Kanka Photography captured this shot (and a lot of others, click on her link to see more) on the campus of William Carey International University in Pasadena, California. If you've seen our past Christmas card photos, you know we can never get away with just a simple, traditional shot without someone saying they are disappointed (to see past years, click here). This one was fun and perfectly captures us as a family. I've already got the 2011 idea ready to go!

Handmade Christmas Ornaments

2010-12-29T11:55:00.000-08:00

For the last several years, I've made a series of handmade ornaments to give as gifts. Did I make any for us to keep? Sadly, no. Maybe this next Christmas I will. Every year the recipients change, although at this point, everyone in my husband's family has received one. The only person with a complete collection would be our old next door neighbors. They are just so much fun to give handmade gifts to!

In 2008, I made these quilted style ball ornaments:

I was inspired by one my Grandmother Rose had made when I was a little girl. This is the one we gave our next door neighbor. We had several newlywed and newly engaged friends, so I made pairs of these with coordinating fabric for their Christmas gifts. I also gave them to my mother and father-in-law and my husband's brother and his wife, and Auntie Holly. All the "local" members of the Chase family.

In 2009, everywhere I looked I saw gingerbread man decorations. So, I made these:

The pair on the top went to our next door neighbors, and the family on the bottom went to my husband's middle sister and her family. I also made a couple others that went to another set of newlyweds. Ben also got into the action that year and helped me with some of the hand stitching, as well as making a few that were 100% his own. He carried them with him where ever he went and even slept with them under his pillow until they were ratty and falling apart and now he wants to make some new ones.

2010 was a very cold year! Our summer never really kicked in until we had a couple hot weeks in September. And all Nathan has been talking about is snow, snow, snow. So this year, I did snowmen:

The top one went to my parents, the middle ones went to my husband's youngest sister's girls (fanatics for pink and purple), and the bottom one went to our old next door neighbors. And those four sum up the only ornaments I made this year, despite having a bunch of newlywed friends and family members. Everyone else got shut out. Wanna know why? Because of this:

At first glance, it just looks like the amazingly talented Michelle A. Moreno, Jeff Braine, Katie Moloney, and Robert Skyler Payne, standing around onstage. Yes, this is the show I spent three months working on. But look a little closer:

See those lovely costumes? They were made by yours truly. Skyler's sweater was easy-breezy. One hour of appliqueing on some diamonds and stitching some gold outlines to get an off-center argyle look. Michelle's dress on the other hand... you are looking at 40 hours of hand cutting and stitching to bring you the glory of a dress decorated with each of the 12 days of Christmas.

Their characters are from North and South Dakota, and they are filled to overflowing with Christmas Spirit. When brainstorming what kind of "Ugly Christmas Sweater" Michelle's character might wear, the 12 Days of Christmas kept rising above the other ideas. So I got to work on the top half. I designed each of the Days myself, and cut them out of felt. Each one has some hand stitching accents to give them some pop. I got to the Five Golden Rings, and realized that this was an insane project. Insanely LARGE and time consuming. My time was already stretched between Japanese classes in the morning and rehearsals at night. So I gave up some sleep to hand cut and hand stitch some more. I brought the whole thing with me to my Parents' house over Thanksgiving, and worked on it there, too. I even sucked my Mom into it, who hand stitched each individual item to the sweater itself. The detail is crazy. I put blush on the Eight Maids a Milking, and hand-tied silver and gold bows to the ballet slippers that represent the Nine Ladies Dancing. Each Piper Piping has a red feather sewn onto his hand-cut hat.

Yes my friends, you are looking at forty hours of work. By the time I was finished, I pretty much hated it. I thought it was ugly, and not in the "good ugly" way we were looking for. I thought everyone would hate it and say "go whip up something else." But I brought it to dress rehearsal and everyone's jaws dropped. At each of the six performances, the costume (which had a funny reveal) got applause. You'll never see me on stage, but each night I soaked up that applause like a particularly porous sponge. So that would be the reason I didn't make my usual dozen or so ornaments to give away. It was because I made 78 individual "ornaments" that went onto that costume! And it brought joy to about 1,800 people who saw the show, so I feel okay about not making more for my friends and family.

Of course, once the show was over, I still felt the need to make something to give to my loved ones. I was completely done with felt and tiny needles, So I broke out the really thick yarn and my biggest crochet hook and made 25 very chunky and warm scarves to give to the ladies in my life:

Of course, once Michael, Nathan, and Benjamin saw the many, many scarves I was making, they all wanted one, too. So I made one for each them in the slow, relaxing days following Christmas, letting them choose their own yarn:

Left to Right: Michael, Nathan, Benjamin, and (because I've never met an ugly shade of green I didn't love) Mine.

I've made a bunch more to send out to certain people I know with January birthdays and people who live in places where the high today is 9F. That's just wrong. They need more than a scarf, but a scarf is what I've got, so that's what they're getting. Brrrrrr...

I think for next year, I'll abandon the felt ornaments and do something with wood. I'm already sketching up ideas now! And maybe one of these years I'll make some for us to keep!

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

30 year gap

2010-12-25T20:46:00.000-08:00

December, 1980:

December, 2010:

Still as cute as ever, my little brother and I.