The horror of the Internet, also how to scare the crap out of your kids 101

There’s nothing like the internet to scare the living crap out of your kids if they aren’t listening to you.

Me: Brush your teeth!

Evie: No, I’m sleepy, I’m going to bed!

Me: Do you want your teeth to fall out….and get dirty and rot and never come back in?!

(She’s got a loose tooth, so I explained that the teeth that replace her baby teeth are adult teeth, and that if she loses those, she’ll have no teeth when she gets older. She still refused to brush her teeth)

Me: Come here baby, I want to show you something

I loaded up google images, typed “Tooth Decay” and thankfully did not find tooth decay porn, ‘cause the world is a sick sick place.

Anyways, this is what google came back with. http://www.jyi.org/articleimages/377/img0.jpg

It scared the living bejeezus out of her, and she immediately ran off to brush her teeth. A minute later she comes back and shouts “The door’s locked, someone’s in there! They need to hurry and come out, my teeth is gonna rotten!”

Ahhh, thank god for the internet, makes the back of my hand almost unnecessary!

J/K:P

And hoooooly crap, those are some nasty ass teeth, I think I'm going to go brush mine now.

The First Day of First Grade

I realized this morning that the first day of first grade is the first day of a new reality. A year ago, on the first day of kindergarten I had given Evie a hug and a kiss before I left. I had reassured her that she's be fine, that she'd have fun; and she did. Evie loved kindergarten. Of course, all my assurances were so very hypocritical since I wasn't sure of anything. Evie's kindergarten teacher, being the experienced professional that she was, had allowed all the parents to come into the classroom with our children. She had explained to us how the classroom was set up and what was expected of us. Most importantly, she had told us that our children would be alright. We knew logically, just some of us weren't quite so sure emotionally. We were allowed to stand and watch our children a little bit on that first day. Some of the little ones who cried had their parents' arms readily available. I think we all put up a good front for our kids, or at least I did. I needed that last hug and kiss last year.

One would think that first grade would be much easier than kindergarten. In a way it is, I'm certain she'll have fun and learn lots of new things and tell me all about them. (It's a good thing I've forgotten practically everything I learned in 1st grade.) Evie, who just this morning while putting on her uniform had said that she was afraid of going to first grade. "I'm too small to be in first grade! Everyone will laugh at me because I'm so small," she exclaimed. I told her she'd be alright, that everything will be just fine. "First grade isn't all that different from kindergarten. You'll have lots of fun and learn tons and tons," I said.

Of course, she believed me and was the model of calm as I helped her find her seat. There was no handholding for the parents this time. There were still a gaggle of parents standing around the classroom still waiting to find some direction on what was expected of us or of our children. We stood waiting and I had this huge urge to hold on to Evie, to have her be...just mine, my little girl, who depended on me for knowledge and strength and protection. I thought of the first moment when they put her in my arms at the hospital and wondered how on earth we got here so fast. All the things I felt last year repeated again this year only a bit more intense because first graders aren't like kindergarteners. They're not the littlest ones at the school anymore. No one cried. I wanted to give her a kiss because that's what mothers do for their babies. They kiss them to make them feel better, to comfort them. Really, I was the one needing the comfort.

I patted her on the head instead and then we heard, "Parents, we'll see you at 1:10." And just like that, we were dismissed.

The End of Summer

When I was a kid, summers were lazy. There was no real schedule or structured activity. I don’t remember doing a darn thing for the vast majority of the summers of my childhood. Most of those free summer days were spent reading, watching TV and that most important of activities, sleeping.

The summers of my elementary school years were spent with my littlest uncles and aunties who lived with us until I was in seventh grade. My three youngest uncles are only 5, 6, and 7 years older than me. My two youngest aunties are only 8 and 10 years older. They were more like big brothers and sisters than uncles and aunts. My little uncles were especially influential. They taught me how to ride a bike, climb a tree, kill ants with incredible efficiency using all sorts of methods and tools ranging from water torture to incineration via magnifying glass, and of course the finer points of a little game called baseball. They took care of me.

My summer memories are filled with their company. Memories like the day when we bought a new refrigerator and my uncles and I rolled down the hill in the gigantic box it came in. By the time we were done with it, the box was so tattered its only possible use was to be torn apart and used as shields for the various battles my uncles had with each other. Forget camp or summer school, I spent the days following my uncles around catching bunnies in a box of pampers (which freaked the heck out of my mom who tried to reach in for a diaper) or riding bikes around town with my aunties. My room was filled with a constellation of fireflies one night as my uncle D and I spent hours catching them in preserve jars and released them inside with the lights off. If I close my eyes I can still see them twinkling and if I think hard enough, I can almost recall the stink of their little bodies as we collected their corpses the next morning.

So much of these memories were out doors with little or no parental supervision. I’m positive that nothing that I experienced was academic in any way; it was all practical and hands on. I knew the parts of a bug before I learned what they were called. I learned that the rate of a friend falling out a tree is faster than that of a blink of an eye. I learned in that same incident that it’s not nice to push your friend out of a tree, even if he and your uncles were being jerks for saying that the tree house was off limits to girls. I learned to be a feminist before I knew the meaning of the word.

The contrast of my childhood with Evie’s this summer is striking. Her days have been filled with day camp, swimming lessons, violin lessons and short family trips to waterfalls, caves, and Disneyland. She read simple books on her own and learned how to play Twinkle Twinkle Little Star on her little violin. She did crafts at camp and had a schedule and calendar. This fall will be equally structured for her since she’ll have violin, ballet, Vietnamese school along with regular school. (My after school evenings were spent watching my uncles play their Atari and watching Hong Kong Kung Fu TV shows dubbed in Vietnamese.) She’s not even 6 yet but she’s already a little high strung. On the one hand, she had about two and a half weeks of no scheduled activities at all this summer. Instead of relaxing and/or wreaking havoc, she’s tested my sanity with whines regarding how bored she was. On the other hand, that whole wreaking havoc thing isn’t really appealing now that I’m the adult and some of the things I was allowed to do as a kid haven’t exactly been purported to have be any good for a developing child’s brain. In fact it’s the opposite, I’m sure I lost a ton of brain cells playing all those hours of Super Mario Brother’s and Duckhunt, or worse, just watching my uncles play Contra or something. (I mourn for my lost genius.)

Monday is the first day of school for Evie; the first day of first grade. No more mid-day naps, no more round carpet and story time. Monday is the first day of a numbered grade – real school. I only wrote about the last day of Kindergarten not too long ago, and all of a sudden there are only a few days left of summer. Still, it was never really summer as I knew it. It wasn’t really a break for Evie or for me. I never really allowed her to roam free and learn dubious lessons on her own. She had a few weeks to do whatever she wanted and she didn’t know what to do other than read books and play video games. There were no broken bones or permanent scars acquired. No blood, no real sweat, just a lot of shuttling and activities with strangers. I’m a little sad about it really. This entire long post to say that I’m disappointed my little girl’s first official summer break wasn’t really free. Maybe I should buy a refrigerator and invite my uncles.

Heaven is Air Conditioned OR Our Trip to Disneyland

Hello everyone!

We’re back after a nice four day weekend in Southern Cal (aka the land of confusing freeways and crazy ass drivers). After some very stressful days (weeks, months, years) a short break from school, work, and home was just what we needed. J and I took two days off from work (he was stressed too, poor guy; he had worked eight sixteen hour days in a row and was really just getting comp time). We weren’t entirely sure what we wanted to do until a week ahead, but towards the end it I didn’t care where we went as long as it was away. And so, of all the wondrous activities available in our great humungous state such as Yosemite, Mt. Lassen, Mt. Shasta, LA, San Francisco, San Diego; where did we go? Disneyland!

For a lot of people, Disneyland, rather than being a place of peace and happiness is the stress and line filled capital of an evil corporate empire which seeks to brainwash our children into loving an anthropomorphic rodent, his pals, and a bunch of brainless princesses with the intent of selling cheap, mass produced trinkets the proceeds of which go towards said evil empire’s plan for total global domination. Me? I love the place. (I was brainwashed at an early age.) I don’t give a shit what they’re trying to sell me, I have a right to spend my money as I see fit and I’m happy to report, we made it out of there in one piece, with two stuffed animals, a few souvenirs for friends and colleagues AND had a great time. I think my buying these things had less to do with politics and more to do with the fact that a lot of these cheap mass produced trinkets are actually really cute.

Our previous trips to Disneyland, while not exactly disasters, had been rather disappointing as we were stuck in line more than half the time, tired, hungry, and grouchy due to all the waiting, lack of rest and the crowds in general. The fact that we weren’t tired or hungry on this trip was success enough.

So what did we do that was different? Five things seemed to make a HUGE difference:

1) We stayed at a hotel within walking distance of the main gates. This was awesome and so worth it. We actually have relatives in Southern Cal whom um…we didn’t visit because we were on a trip to get away from family. Still, since we were going mainly to visit Disneyland, it was worth staying in a location that was convenient for naps, rest, and air-conditioning (it was 90 degrees with 70% humidity!)

2) We brought drinks and snacks with us and generally left the park to eat. There are several restaurants around Disneyland and maybe a 5 minute walk from the gate. Still, thank the heavens for the invention of personal sized coolers and double strollers with baskets.

3) We got in line to get into the park an hour before it opened. Getting into Disneyland right as it opened seemed to be the key to not having to wait in line for the rest of the morning (also the kids ate breakfast in line and it was a short walk from the hotel). By the time noon rolled around, we had already ridden every ride we wanted to ride. Some of the ones the kids liked the best (Buzz Lighyear Astro Blasters and Winnie the Pooh), we rode three times in a row without any waiting. Sweet Pea was so spoiled that when we did have to wait in line for the 5th and 6th times we went on the Buzz Lightyear ride, he was annoyed that these people had moved in on his space and he had to wait all of 5 minutes to get on. When we had gone earlier in the year, the Buzz Lightyear ride had a 45 minute wait when we went there at 3pm or so we had skipped it. Nice to know that if you go early in the morning or late in the evening after the fireworks, it’s pretty easy to get on with little wait.

4) We had an itinerary of what we wanted to do and when. We paid for a subscription to something called Ridemax which created a ride itinerary for us based on the rides we preselect. A Ridemax plan was supposed to help use maximize our time at Disneyland but I’m not entirely sure if the great results we got were from following the Ridemax itinerary or arriving extremely early, taking naps in the middle of the day, and returning in the late evening. Still, it was great having a list of what we wanted to do along with the approximate times we were going to do them that was fairly accurate. We deviated from plan a few times but mainly to skip something we thought we’d wanted to do or add on a few extra trips around something the kids loved. Worth the $15 subscription fee I think.

5) Simple as this sounds, we included naps in our plans…LONG naps. For everyone. With all the waiting and food out of the way, the next thing that we really hated about Disneyland was the weather and the exhaustion because of having to move in that sort of weather. This time, we planned long breaks during the hottest parts of the day where we ate lunch and slept in our nice air-conditioned room. I swear Disney is diabolical. They turned up the AC in the stores to entice people like me who can’t survive in temperatures above 75 in. (Seriously, SoCal folks, y’all are on crack for living down there in that heat and humidity. I breathed a sigh of relief when we got back to the Bay Area with our low 70 degree weather.)

With some careful planning and the help of some cool software, we were able to ride 41 rides, watch 2 parades, 2 shows, and 1 fireworks display, all on a two day pass; much more than on our previous trip which had spanned three days. All in all kids had a blast and the best part is, we were able to rest and relax as well. And that was our trip to Disneyland.

On the way home we dropped by Bakersfield to visit the BakPak folks for lunch (aka the Superhas and the Parents in Some Spot). They were awesome; DISL cooked an amazing spread of kalbi and pancit with gourmet homemade ice cream for dessert. Outside of the great food and company the kids seemed to play alright together for the most part. Evie, I think, felt a little lost having to interact with little people that were not her brother (she kept getting upset that the Pumpkin and SuperGirl weren’t saying “please and thank you” ALL.THE.TIME; sorry guys, my girl is sort of anal. Takes after her daddy I swear.) Was a very nice visit and we went away with a generous bag of the biggest and sweetest seedless grapes I’d ever seen! (Thanks guys! You’ll have to come visit us in the Bay Area some time so that we can not cook and treat you to a nice meal here.)

We also stopped at our friends SandK for dinner and for me to cuddle their newest member, a little three month old baby girl. I think I was hogging the little one a bit since I was practically squealing over the tiny hands and feet, not to mention the baby smell. If only they could bottle that up, I’d dump it all over Evie and Sweet Pea and just sniff them all day. :sigh: No more babies though.

So that was my weekend. My parents missed us (well the kids) and they seem to be getting along. My little brother and cousin came back from Europe (separate vacations) and expanded Evie and Sweet Pea’s cheap Italian T-Shirt collection. Work was just as busy as I’d left it. I’m done with my summer classes (I’m not sure I passed but I’m done). J and I were able to spend a few hours alone today as my mom volunteered to babysit. All is not well but it’s ok; it’s workable. That’s the funny thing about taking a break; things look a little different when you get back. Things don’t seem so urgent anymore. I’m still making my rounds around the sites I usually visit. This work thing keeps getting in the way. I hope all is well with you! =)

Love, Lien

PS Sadly, this was the best picture from our trip. I really wished we had stopped to take more decent pictures. Our kids are growing so fast, sometimes I just want to stop and capture a moment. Unfortunately, until we get a decent flash unit (the Ha's inspired us) most of our photo memories as in our minds, will be a bit blurry.

My Dears

Some of the things I wish I could say…

****

Dear Dad,

All the things you taught me about faith, religion, and honor; I truly believe. When I say I’m going to do something, I try my best to do it. When I say think of my soul, I think of what you taught me about our ancestors, about Buddhism, and about having faith without religion. When I think of bravery and sacrifice, I think of you. You were brave, that’s why we’re here. You made huge sacrifices for your family, that’s why you work nearly seven days a week sometimes, for that extra bit of overtime to provide for not only family here, but in Vietnam too.

But Dad, do you have to tell us we’re stupid because we’re women? Do you have to feel so threatened that you refuse to acknowledge the accomplishments of your daughters? Do you ever think that perhaps heaven is punishing you for your sexism by granting you three daughters and a son who wants to be nothing like you?

Still, I love you dad. You're my dad, it doesn't matter what you do, how much you hurt us, I still love you. I do everything in my power to make you happy. I don’t remember you ever telling me you loved me. You believe actions speak louder than words. You didn’t beat the shit out of me that one time because you loved me too much to touch me, but you beat someone else out of frustration. I would be frustrated too if I had your life. I'd be even more frustrated if I had mom's life but you know, you could help with that a bit more.

You know, you and I are the same in many ways. When we come to the end of our lives in the courts of hell where souls are judged for their next lives, our good deeds and bad deed will probably weigh the same.

All that to say, I forgive you dad. I understand why.

****

Dear Mom,

I love you. If you want him to appreciate you, don’t be a martyr.

****

Dear J,

Thank goodness you’re home. I missed you so much, but we were too tired to even hug each other and you were too pissy from your flight and long week away. I don’t know if you’ll ever know how sad I was that you just didn’t hug me when you saw me instead of having me mention it first.

****

Dear kids,

Mommy’s been sort of upset a lot lately. I know it’s hard on you guys, but mommy’s going through a lot right now. What, between work, finals, family drama, Sweet Pea’s new penchant for hitting and Evie’s not so new custom of just taking it and crying/whining, you’ll have to forgive me if I start to show some cracks. You’re too young right now to understand but I hope you remember that even if I’m yelling, I love you. You are still perfect to me even if your antics drive me up the wall. Yeah, mommy’s priorities are all messed up right now. You should be first rather than last (well, not last but behind a few other things). Maybe this is too much to ask from a toddler and a 5 year old but please be patient. Finals are on Thursday and mommy and daddy took some time off work. Just a few more days and we’ll go away; away from everything. We’ll put you back on top of the list again and pretend that the reality of providing that comfortable middle class life we’re so accustomed to won’t bump you down again.

I love you. We’re going to get through all this crap together. Don’t worry dears, even if you grow up to need therapy, it is actually not so bad once you find the right person and the world is so much more valuable on the other side. Still, here’s hoping you forget this period in time and we can start over soon.

What I WILL say instead...

I love you.

Happiness Is...

A loved one coming home after a long trip.

J has been in Florida on a business trip for the past week and won't be coming home till late tomorrow night. I admit that I'm sort of...very...lost without him. (As evidenced by the fact that I'm blogging on a Sunday.) :sigh:

We miss you J. Or as Sweet Pea has been whimpering every now and then this past week, "Dddaaaaadddddyyyy...? Daddy wuhk? Miss daddy!"

Smile!

Somedays, all it takes is a flip through the ol' photo archives to find that little something to make things bright again. This one was taken 3/8/06. Sweet Pea was only 11 months old, Evie hadn't started kindergarten, and we hadn't put our house on the market yet. It's hard to get them to take a picture together these days.

PS Sweet Pea is still a little guy. We finally made it in for his 2 year check up (he's about 28 months now). He's now 28.5 lbs and 34 and 1/4 inches tall. This puts him in the 25th percentile for height and somewhere in the middle for weight. The doctor said he was perfect. Yup. =)

100 Things

100 Things

1. I procrastinate, a lot.
2. I’m typing this because I need to type something.
3. I’m not really thinking about what I’m typing.
4. Duh, I’m a mom.
5. I didn’t think I’d ever be a mom.
6. Evie was a surprise for us.
7. I loved her so much we planned and had another.
8. I think Sweet Pea rocks.
9. I think he has beautiful eyes.
10. I’m shocked that my eyes look so good on him.
11. I write lists and do meme’s for my blog when I’m disturbed but don’t know how to put what’s bothering me into words.
12. I’ve been diagnosed with clinical depression.
13. I’ve been fantasizing about killing myself since I was 9 years old.
14. I’ve seriously tried at least a dozen times.
15. Things keep coming up that make me want to live.
16. Some guy I met randomly named J is one.
17. Some kids I had are two others.
18. In my experience, it’s easy to find something to die for.
19. It’s much harder to find something to live for.
20. For me anyway.
21. I’ve been to therapy.
22. I know I’m crazy.
23. Normal people aren’t like me right?
24. Normal people don’t sit at work and all of a sudden start crying for no reason.
25. Or feel hopeless.
26. Or useless.
27. I know I’m not those things.
28. My brain knows things my emotions can’t accept.
29. I hate my emotions sometimes.
30. Sometimes I wish I felt nothing.
31. Nothing can be bearable.
32. Yes I have medication.
33. My medication helped me gain so much weight that I weigh 30lbs more now than when I was 9 months pregnant.
34. The stuff that wouldn’t make me gain weight made me want to jump off a bridge.
35. I have lots of excuses as to why I am the way I am.
36. I hate being depressed.
37. But I wouldn’t be me without it.
38. I put on a great act.
39. Especially when I’m dying inside.
40. I hate it when people who know about this tell me to get over it.
41. I DO try.
42. I do get over it for awhile.
43. I’m an envious person.
44. I envy those who are so easily happy.
45. I have a great and loving husband.
46. I have beautiful and kind children.
47. I have a job I’m good at.
48. I have a goal I believe in.
49. I am blessed in so many ways.
50. Something in my brain lacks the will to live.
51. Something in my heart lacks the will to be content.
52. I don’t know what I want.
53. What I want is so intangible.
54. I’ve been reaching for it my entire life.
55. I don’t know what it is.
56. I want meaning.
57. I want more meaning than what I have now.
58. I feel selfish and greedy for wanting what I want.
59. I wish I could get over myself.
60. I wish I knew why I feel sad more often than not too.
61. Anyhoo…is one of my favorite “words”.
62. I’m 5’2” tall.
63. I’m round.
64. I have chubby cheeks.
65. Even when I wasn’t round, I had chubby cheeks.
66. J once said I am cute but “not that pretty”.
67. I wasn’t really mad at him since I know it’s true.
68. I pretended to be mad anyway.
69. It’s fun to watch him squirm sometimes.
70. Yeah, I know.
71. I’ve taught my husband how to lie.
72. Hmm…is another favorite.
73. I’m amazed at this blogging and internet thing.
74. I can bear my soul here even though traditionally one’s soul is a private thing.
75. Now what was public is now private. My appearance.
76. I think it’s very shallow to contemplate one’s appearance too often.
77. I think this whole exercise is an exercise in shallowness.
78. I don’t think I’m telling anyone anything they didn’t know or couldn’t fathom.
79. I’m afraid of living.
80. I’m afraid of dying.
81. I’m weird.
82. I like Hostess snowballs and ding dongs.
83. I think modern society is perverted.
84. I’m a hypocrite.
85. I’m human.
86. I am who I am.
87. I don’t hate myself.
88. I don’t hate life.
89. I don’t hate death either.
90. I don’t hate the world.
91. It is the way it is.
92. Apathy is the disease of my generation.
93. I don’t need inspiration.
94. I have quite enough.
95. I’m glad I can not legally own a gun.
96. I care too much to do something selfish.
97. I care too much not to be bothered.
98. I never thought I’d live to be 30.
99. I will be 30 in 25 weeks and 3 days.
100. I love lists.

The Anti-Racist Parent Meme

I actually did this meme (which I got from the awesome Anti-Racist Parent Blog) a few days ago but considering a number of birthdays and parties and screaming flailing children to attend to, I totally forgot about it. This posting is actually an example of how lazy I can be considering also, that today is the anniversary of the day that J and I met and I'm too lazy to type out how we met. 9 years. Whoa. Feels like forever, I think I may have even accidentally typed that I've known him or his grandma for over a decade, it just feels like he's always been there. Can you believe that some of the first words I ever said to him were "shut up"? I wonder what I would have said if he told me that we'd be married two and a half years later. Hmm...

********

1. I am:
Lien. I was Le. I was renamed when I was 4 and we were in a refugee camp in Hong Kong. When my dad filled out the information on me for all the identification documents, he listened to a more educated cousin and re-dubbed me Hong Lien (pink lotus) thinking it was a nicer and more sophisticated name. Not surprisingly, that event was my first taste of a major identity crisis.

2. My kids are:
Evie, age 5 and Sweet Pea, terrible 2. They are Vietnamese-Japanese-Korean American.

3. I first started thinking more about race, culture, and identity when:
I first started thinking about race when we moved to a tiny town in Michigan that was completely white and everyone outside of our family was not brown but this pinkish color. Contrary to how horrible that must sound to some of the more cosmopolitan of my readers, our sponsors were incredibly kind and made our first years in the US almost idyllic. Still, I remember wondering why there weren’t that many people who looked like us or spoke the language I spoke at home. Also, I wondered why, our neighbors, an older white couple, instead of coming to tell me that their raspberry and blackberry canes were theirs (there were no fences between our yards, it just looked like a great huge field) and I shouldn’t be picking and eating berries off of them; decided to call the police on a 6 year old.

I first started thinking about culture and identity in 4th grade. I went to a school that was primarily Hispanic. We were studying the Aztecs and other Mesoamerican cultures and I asked my teacher when we were going to study the cultures of Asia. It was great to know where my friends came from and their history I wanted to know about where I came from and if I had a history too. He said we didn’t have time in the school year. From that conversation on, I spent a lot of time at the library and reading everything I could on Asian cultures and kept my eyes peeled for anything that seemed remotely Vietnamese. I learned so much about Chinese, Japanese, and Koreans but there was very little at that time about Vietnam and Vietnamese except for the War. Thankfully, my kids will have far more resources about that part of them than I did.

4. People think my name is:
Japanese. My parents will never forgive me but I took J’s name when we got married. There are far too many people with my last name in the world (not that there’s anything wrong with that). Google Lien Nguyen and you’ll see why I’m an adamant believer in privacy through obscurity.

5. The family tradition I most want to pass on is:
Frequent family gatherings surrounded by love, laughter, and fantastic food.

6. The family tradition I least want to pass on is:
To be completely honest; verbal and emotional abuse as well as clinical depression and anxiety.

7. My child’s first word in English was:
Is it bad that I don’t remember for either of them? A reasonable guess would be, “Mama.”

8. My child’s first non-English word was:
Probably dau, Vietnamese for head. We used to play a game with the kids when they are babies where we chant, (roughly translated) “clap your hands, clap your hands, and I’ll let you eat cake; if you don’t clap your hands, I’ll take my pole and hit you on your…head/ tummy/ cheeks/ nose/ chin…” It was almost always the head first. They were so cute when they were babies, they’d put both arms on their heads and yell, “Dau!!”

9. The non-English word/phrase most used in my home is:
Ai ya! I have no idea what it means but we use it A LOT!

10. One thing I love about being a parent is:
Living vicariously, just kidding! Aww, just one? I love being a parent. I am SO incredibly lucky to have such funny, caring, and cute kids; they give my life all sorts of meaning.

11. One thing I hate about being a parent is:
Again, just one? Sometimes, I hate being the center of their universe, you know? There are moments when I feel like I’m cracking under the pressures of being MOM. Sometimes I just want to be me for me. I know how selfish that sounds, trust me, guilt is in every way involved.

12. To me, being an anti-racist parent means:
Being a role model. Kindness, compassion, responsibility and respect; it would be great if these four things become so engrained in society that they become the norm rather than the exception. I help that happen by starting with myself and teaching my kids to follow suit.

10 Birthday Things

Dear J,

It's your birthday and oh, how do I love thee, let me count the ways...

10) I love that you're just as dorky as I am. Between my love of R2D2, your love of zombies, and our shared love of anime, science fiction, and comic books we could well be the dorkiest people on the planet. No matter what happens, we'll always have Macross my love.

9) I love that you call me every.single.day to ask me how my day is going. Dude, I'm FINE!!! You know I'll answer the phone with a "WHAT?!" or an "I'M BUSY!!" but you call anyway. A glutton for punishment, but I love hearing your voice...in hindsight.

8) You give GREAT back scratches.

7) Thou doth protest too much when I drag you places, but hey, at least you go and admit it. You know you don't mind sitting on a bench with your nose in a book while I'm shopping.

6) You are positively clueless on a great number of things (directions, cooking, childcare) but it's ok, you make me feel absolutely necessary. Which I like.

5) You bicker with me on something every.single.day. This may not seem like something to be happy about, but it's true, I'd rather bicker with you than be in a lovey dovey relationship where everything is perfect rainbows and sunsets and shit. What we have is real and I like a man with an opinion.

4) If I just mention I like something off hand, you will search the vast reaches of the internet to find it for me. Thanks babe!

3) You let me call you poopyhead, dork, idiot, dumbass/dumbbutt, crazy ass mofo, and any other assortment of names and vice versa.

2) You're my best friend. We tell each other everything and hug each other every day.

1) There is no one on this earth like you. My day is not complete if I don't hear your voice or see your face.

You, Evie, and Sweet Pea are my world, my universe, my life, my being. I love you so much. Happy Birthday Honey! Can't wait till you get home.