I Am Thankful for Water and Timmy

A few months ago, Adana's Sunbeam teacher taught a lesson entitled "I Am Thankful for Water." As an activity, she had the kids play with little cups of water and medicine droppers. Adana LOVED the lesson - and has been reenacting it ever since. I am getting a bit annoyed, though, of constantly having wet socks because of her dripping all over the kitchen.

On Saturday, we babysat Adana's friend, Timmy. He is the perfect counter to her exuberance - mellow, soft-spoken, and fairly passive when they play. He follows her around like a little puppy. The great thing about Timmy is that there are rarely any "issues" between the two of them. No power struggles over toys; no whining or pouting about who gets to be the leader.

Their relationship seems quite clear - Adana is the leader and sweet Timmy is her doting admirer. One of her favorite games is to lie down on the floor (particularly when she notices that Timmy's attention is distracted elsewhere) and call out, "Timmy! Help me!" He will dutifully rush over, exclaim, "What's wrong Adana" in his soft, tender voice, then reach down to help her up. Whereupon she leaps to her feet and orders him to follow her.

And so it goes . . .

Considering the fact that our families are good friends and that we both intend to stay in this area for many years to come, it will be interesting to see how their relationship develops.

If she's gonna cross the line, she has to know exactly where that line is.

Adana & I were at a store today. She found a little toy butterfly that she really wanted.

I told her no.

She begged, "But I waaaant it."

I paid for my things and still said no.

She stomped her foot and shouted, "Yes! I WANT it!"

I started walking toward the door and firmly said NO.

She stood her ground and yelled, "Don't say no to me! I WANT IT!"

I turned around. My face remained impassive. I gave her the I'm serious now look and held up my index finger. "One . . ."

Looking completely unconcerned, she asked, "What are you counting to? Three or five?"

I lost it. The stupid toy butterfly was chucked into the nearest bin. And Adana was slung under my arm and marched out to the car.

HUH!?

Being a young child is a tough job. Always being told what to do. Forced to go to bed in the middle of the day, just when the other kids are getting home from school and playing outside. Being told that you can no longer pee anywhere you want; now you have to sit on a cold, gaping seat that feels like it’s going to swallow you up if you’re not careful. Suddenly getting in trouble for things that used to make people laugh and take pictures, like throwing your food on the floor or picking mom’s favorite flowers.

Not to mention the myriad of stuff a young kid is expected to learn. It’s not enough that they just spent the first 3 years of life learning how to walk, talk, play patty cake, and sleep through the night. Now the demands get even higher. They have to learn how to share, and take turns, and eat cereal without dribbling the milk all down their front. And it’s no longer enough to just scream and point and wait for the nearest adult to figure out what they want. Now they are expected to “use your words” to calmly explain that some kid just took MY FAVORITE TOY!

But I'd like to submit that, while being a young child is no picnic, neither is it easy to be the mom of said kid. Especially when it comes to trying to decipher their still-developing language skills. I don't know about your kids, but it seems to take mine forever to connect the brain synapses responsible for forming logical questions. For example, Adana & I were going for a walk today :

Adana (picking a flower): What's this called?
(So far so good, you're thinking? Well, don't be fooled. Apparently, that was the one-and-only Question Synapse that had yet formed in her 3-year old brain.)
Me: It's a dandelion.
Adana: When?
Me: Huh?
Adana: When is it?
Me: Ummm . . . right now?
Adana: NO, it's a dan-de-li-on. (She slowly enunciates every syllable, convinced that her mom is a DUH-head.)
Me: Right. Thanks.
Adana: Where's Baba? (Another synapse connected! That's two!)
Me: At work.
Adana: Who?
Me: Baba.
Adana: No, AT HIS OFFICE!
Me: Oh . . . you meant "where."
Adana: What time is the red triangle?
Me: Seriously? I don't even know what that means.
Adana: Right there! (Pointing to a parking lot. Not much help there.) When is the red triangle?
Me: Hey! Look at that pretty flower. (When in doubt, distract.)
Adana: Who?
Me: You. Look at that pretty white flower.
Adana: I like kisses. Where are the kisses?
Me (bending down to peck her on the check): Here's one.
Adana: Not those kisses! Yellow kisses!

And so it goes . . . I was mentally exhausted by the time we'd walked a block. But in the end, here's what I discovered (after a conversation that rivals Job for patience):

#1 The pick-the-right-question-word synapse is still in the formulative stages. Currently, any question word beginning with "wh" can be interchanged with any other.

#2 The "red triangle" in question was actually a red octogon - as in a stop sign. See #1 above as to why "What time is the red triangle" was an adequate way to ask "What is that red octogon?"

#3 Yellow kisses are her new word for daffodils. (Thank you, Izaac.) She had to stop at. every. single. daffodil. that. we. passed. on. our. walk. And then she had to kiss them all. Not just kiss them - she would shove her face into their pretty little yellow cups and SMOOCH. She looked like she was frenching the flowers. And she ended up with a ring of yellow pollen around her mouth.

So in the end, we had a lovely walk. I learned a thing or two about understanding my 3-year old. Adana got some fresh air & exercise. And a whole lotta flowers are feeling loved (or violated) today.

Those Amazing Russell Kids!

Last night was the annual Primary Talent Show at church - a chance for all the kids (age 3-11) to showcase their remarkable skills and abilities.

I have to admit that, in the past, I've usually skipped this activity and sent the kids with Dad. I can only handle so many plunky piano pieces or freestyle dance numbers. I often struggle to paste on an enthusiastic smile when my own kids perform. But other people's kids? Ugh. I'd rather stay home and do my laundry.

But I'm glad I went last night because it was a really fun evening. We have some very talented kids in our Primary. And I was pleased to discover that apparently we've lived here long enough for me to feel a strong attachment to a lot of them.

I cheered out loud when Ben read TWO books about a mouse finding cheese and jumping in puddles. I loved hearing the younger kids plunking away on the piano (because their turns were usually the quickest - moving the show along). :-) One boy, Finn, stood up on stage and made funny faces (sort of reminded me of Bella's face when she was dying in Twilight. Very funny.) We had gymnasts, story-tellers, singers, jokers. Micah's best friend, Coltrane, performed an Ollie over his sister's stuffed pig. And there was a fabulous ballet piece by the cutest little 4-year old ballerina dancing to The Nutcracker.

My kids came with their own version of talent:

Micah showed off his Roller Hockey skills. It was difficult to pull off in the small space that he had to skate in, but he did a great job.

Emma gave a jump rope demonstration. She is taking a jump rope class right now, and loving it.

Adana had been talking all week about what she wanted to do in the talent show. She really wanted to do the scene from Madagascar 2, where Alex the lion slides his hand up & down his face, alternating between a smile and frown. But she got a little shy when she was actually on stage. (Of course, that didn't prevent her from constantly running on stage whenever it wasn't her turn to perform.)

Here's sort of what it was supposed to look like. She does this all the time, especially when she's getting lectured for doing something naughty, because she knows it cracks me up.

MetroMan

You know, of course, that I love Metromint. Adore it. Addicted to the stuff. I would swim across PUGET SOUND to get a free case of the stuff.

OR meet a strange man in a secluded park, especially if he was offering a free case of CHOCOLATEMINT. :-)

Meet Kevin, our local Metromint distributer. I've been emailing him, trying to see if I can get a local store to carry Chocolatemint. So yesterday, he hopped on the ferry and came over to our little island. He talked with the store manager, made sure they're SKU'd to sell it, then drove out to meet me - an avid fan!

AND he gave me a case of Chocolatemint to tide me over until the store gets their act together and starts stocking it. Plus he loaded up my friends with bottles of Cherrymint (not my favorite, but it kind of grows on you) and the new Metroelectro.

Thanks Kevin! Thanks Metromint! And Thank Heaven for Chocolatemint!

Family Night at Fay Bainbridge

After a near-perfect*, beautiful, sunny, warm spring day, we met up with some friends at a local beach for a potluck dinner. Afterwards, the kids worked hard to build a great beach fort.

You know how the scriptures say "There must needs be opposition in all things." Days like this are SO MUCH more appreciated than they would be in other climates, where they are more commonplace.

You know my mantra: There's nothing better than a sunny day in Seattle.

Adana was determined to go swimming. She got as far as sticking her toe in the water, then decided that it was too cold.

The early stages of the fort.

The adults chatted while the kids slaved away.

Two of my BUFF kids.

The finished product. They were so proud!

* I say the day was "near-perfect" because of a little incident which happened earlier in the day. Warning: those who are faint of heart may not want to read on. . . So, since it was such a fabulous day, I decided to take the kids to a park. No sooner had we arrived, than Adana declares, "I have to go pee." Grrr. . . I'd never been to this particular park and, looking around, I couldn't see any bathrooms. So I took her over to a secluded grove of trees to, um, water the grass. As I was walking over, my phone rings. So I'm squatting in the trees, talking on my cell phone with one hand and trying to balance Adana with her naked butt hanging down in the other hand. Then suddenly she announces, "Actually, it's poop." And out plops a big 'ol pile, right between my feet. Now I'm stuck with a mess - both hands occupied - in the middle of nowhere. I'm laughing so hard I can barely stay standing; I quickly say, "I'll call you back" and drop my phone in the dirt; and I yell for my friend at the playground, "BRING ME SOME WIPES!" She comes running over and, being the helpful friend that she is, immediately starts laughing and snapping pictures with her phone. So yes, it was a "near-perfect" day.

YEAH KATIE!!

I have to give a huge shout-out to my sis-in-law Katie, who just completed the Boston Marathon! She is such an amazing runner - totally dedicated, and yet completely encouraging to those of us who nearly pass out when we have to run 100 yards to catch a ferry. :-)

She completed the race in 4 hours 10 minutes, which just totally blows my mind. Not only that, she was sick (bronchitis or pnemonia - something nasty!) on the day of the race, but she still ran anyways.

Way to go #14141!!

My 3 year old babysitter

We left the kids home while we went to watch Twilight on Saturday night. Here's what we found when we got home:

I think I'll have to start paying Adana an allowance for babysitting her siblings. :-)

Why I Liked Twilight

Finally, after months of eager anticipation (*cough, cough* Bull-s#!t *cough, cough*), I finally watched the Twilight movie.

And yes, it was everything I thought it would be - and worse.

But this is not going to be yet another "Why Twilight is so ridiculously stupid" post. You can easily find a million of those with a simple "Twilight reviews" google.

Rather, I'm going to tell you why I "liked" Twilight. It'll be a bit of a stretch, so bear with me . . .

First of all, let me just say right off the bat that the movie really is lousy. The acting is forced, the make-up looks like something my kids would do to themselves on Halloween, and I seriously doubt that the producers even hired an editor to review the screenplay. The whole thing is just plain rubbish.

Before watching the actual movie, I saw the trailer. (Who hasn't seen the trailer?? It seems to play on practically every film that I've rented in the past 6 months, not to mention being embedded on an insane number of blogs written by vampire-obsessed middle-aged women.) I've also watched a number of "spoof" videos on YouTube - most very funny and better produced than the actual film.

To tell the truth, I probably should have just left it at that. All you expect from both the trailers and the spoofs are choppy "highlights" of the movie, right? Unfortunately, the feature length version was no different. It was just one long Cliffs Notes version of the book. It's as if they took the book and a big set of scissors, chopped it up, and pasted random scenes for the audience to watch. No cohesion, no plot or character development . . . If you hadn't already read the book, I can't imagine how you could even understand what was going on.

So how can I possibly write a post entitled "Why I Liked Twilight" when, obviously, the movie was about as entertaining as watching someone else's kid in a piano recital?

Why did I ultimately decide that I'm glad to have watched it??

Because it taught me a lesson.

I am fairly anti-Hollywood. I think that most movies these days are offensive, stupid and a waste of money. I would much rather read a book. (And, in fact, my kids are not allowed to watch a movie that has been adapted from a book unless they've read the book first.)

On the rare occassion that I actually suck it up and pay the money to watch a book-turned-movie, I am nearly always disappointed. I sit in the theater fuming over the travesty of taking a perfectly good book and massacring it, changing plot lines, casting horrible actors, and dumbing down scripts, all in the name of "poetic license."

I have often demanded: WHY can't they simply re-tell the story the way it is written?

Well now, thanks to the torturous 1 1/2 hours that I spent watching Twilight, I understand. It just doesn't work to condense a book into random sound bites and disconnected scenes. It may be true that a picture is worth a thousand words. But it is not true that a few dozen random scenes are worth to a book. Even if (or, maybe, especially if) that book was not very well written to begin with.

So that's why I "liked" Twilight. I'm hoping that it will force me to allow directors to take a bit of poetic license, make some necessary changes, tweek a line here or there . . . so that the movie is bearable to watch.

(Or maybe I just liked Twilight for the fun of mocking it. I'm already planning to watch the sequel with my friend (a Twilight lover) in the theater. Come join me!)

Basking in the sun.

After a weekend of drizzly rain, this felt good. Real good.

6th folder 6th picture tag . . .

I got my first "tag." I feel like one of the in-crowd of bloggers now. :-)

Here's how it works:

1) go to your 6th folder

2) go to your 6th picture

3) blog about it

4) tag 6 people

This picture is from January 2004. We were living in Ocean Springs, Mississippi, and loving it! It was our first year out of dental school, the first time in our married life that we actually had an income (albeit a small one) and we were having an adventure.

This is Emma - nearly 2 years old - outside our cute little red brick rental house. Isn't she adorable? She has her bubble blowing container. I remember she sucked in more bubble stuff than she blew out. But she kept at it.

Ahhh . . . those were some good times.

So, now it's my turn to tag. Hmmm . . . I pick: Tara E., Kristi K., Jessica F., Jenny V., Katie B., and Kiahna W.

No cheating! You have to follow the rules and post the 6th picture in your 6th folder. (My cousin, who tagged me, posted a picture of her old couch. But hey, it was a pretty nice couch. I don't blame her for taking a picture of it.) :-)

Yelling practice

When I was a kid, I can remember my mom taking us outside and telling us to YELL. We were supposed to SCREAM and SHOUT as loud as we could. She had read somewhere that children were so often told to "be quiet" that they didn't have the lung capacity to actually scream for their lives if they ever needed to.

Personally, I don't think my kids have a problem with diminished lung capacity. Take Adana up there. This was her response to me telling her that she couldn't change her outfit - again - because it was time for us to leave. (Trust me. That scream curdled the milk in my fridge.)

But after reading this story about a 5-year old boy that was nearly kidnapped yesterday, I started to wonder if maybe there was some validity to my mom's concerns.

A 65-year-old Seattle man accused of attempting to kidnap a 5-year-old boy at Pike Place Market on Monday was ordered held this afternoon on $250,000 bail.

Just after 11 a.m., the boy's mother stopped to remove a small rock that had become lodged in a cast on her foot, according to Seattle police. Her husband turned to help her and when they looked up, the couple discovered the youngest of their three children was no longer with them.

The family searched for the boy in the crowded market. The mother spotted her child being led away by a man, about 40 feet from where she was, police said. She called to her son and ran to him, with her husband and two other children, ages 6 and 7, close behind.

As the mother approached, the man released his grip on the boy and disappeared into the crowd. The family flagged down West Precinct bicycle officers and the mother, 5-year-old boy and other witnesses provided a suspect description, according to police. Minutes later, officers found the suspect as he was leaving a men's restroom in the market and arrested him.

The boy told officers the man pulled him away from his family and only released him when his mother came to his rescue. Though upset, the boy wasn't hurt, police said.

Wouldn't you assume that if your child was being led away from you by a strange man, that he/she would yell and scream for you? But maybe yelling for help isn't an instinctive reaction; maybe it is a learned skill. What if your child's natural reaction to such a frightening experience is to go into shocked silence? If that's the case, then it is our job to TEACH our kids to YELL.

I know that my kids have a vocal capacity that can be measured on the Ricther scale. But tomorrow, we will be practicing when and how to use it in an emergency. If some fool ever tries to lead one of my cubs away, he'll soon discover that he picked on the wrong kid.

And heaven help him if Mama Bear is anywhere near.

Spring Break 2009

First of all, whoever planned Spring Break this early in the year should be fired. If you're going to give us a SPRING BREAK, then at least have the decency to plan it at a time when there is a greater likelihood of spring-like weather. Toward the end of April would be nice. Here are the lovely driving conditions that we enjoyed over Snoqualmie Pass, the Blue Mtns, and northern Utah:

Second, I would just like to give a HUGE shout-out to my 4 awesome kids. They endured FOUR days of driving, across some of the dullest, smelliest (Idaho really needs to do something about that cow stench along the highway), monotonous roads in the Western U.S. But they made it fun and I rarely heard a complaint - even when we were stuck for FOUR HOURS on I-90, waiting for the avalanche crew to clean up their mess.

Here's a quick photo journal of our trip to St. George. Unfortunately, it only covers the first half of the trip because my camera ran out of batteries and I forgot to bring the charger. But you'll get the idea - we all had a great time!

Our first day in St. George was Emma's 7th birthday. In keeping with Nathan's tradition of having the birthday child wake up to a fully decorated house, we (my mom, the boys & I) stayed up late hanging crepe paper and making signs.

We celebrated Emma's birthday dinner at Pirate Island Pizza - kind of a cross between Pirates of the Caribbean and Chuck E. Cheese. Gma & Gpa Russell drove up to share the weekend with us. Emma was truly QUEEN for the day.

Here's one of the pirate ships inside the restaurant. The cannons would periodically "blast off" and we would be caught in the cross fire. If you happen to have NOISE ISSUES, this may not be the most pleasant dining experience for you.

Adana had a great time playing with her cousin, Ella, who is 9 months (and about 20 lbs) smaller than her. Poor Ella had a hard time dealing with Adana's "exuberance." Think Amazon Woman meets timid Southern Belle.

The kids enjoyed the warm weather and even warmer heated pool. Our good friends, the Lewis family (whom we knew when we lived in Mississippi) just happen to live across the street from my parents. So they came over a couple times to swim and hang out.

Of course, sometimes Adana just couldn't be bothered with the hassle of putting on a swim suit. (In case you're wondering, she doesn't pee in the pool, even when she's skinny dipping. She prefers to get out and pee in the grass next to the pool.)

This is Aunt Katie's legendary CANDY SALAD. It was about halfway eaten by the time I shot this picture. The kids figure that (1) since it's called "salad" and (2) since it's served in a salad bowl, it must be healthy. Ugh.

One of our favorite Utah activities - 4-wheeling in the desert! Here is Emma riding with Gpa in the Razor. Jared, Micah & I each rode our own 4-wheeler.

Gpa and the kids, overlooking the soon-to-be new St. George airport.

After one ride, we hiked around a bit and found this great swimming hole in the middle of the desert. We didn't swim, but it was sure tempting!

There is no keeping the kids off the rocks. I swear I gave birth to a bunch of mountain goats.

Roasting marshmallows with some of the Lewis kids in Gma & Gpa's back yard.

And roasting Peeps. Mmmmm . . . crunchy colored carmalized sugar. To tell the truth, I think they taste better this way.

Playing the arcade in Gma & Gpa's basement.

Watching movies in Gma & Gpa's theater.

Seriously, it's amazing that I ever convinced my kids to come home!