Happy New Year Rambling

I am a failed blogger.  Seriously.  I just can't think of anything to write or its something I shouldn't write about.  Here is a case of the latter.

Wren and I are in the car, driving to the Post Office.  Its 5.15pm and all those unfortunate people who work all day are rushing home in the wet dark behind their streams of headlights.  I am in the same stream of headlights rushing to make it to the post office before it closes so I can collect my EXPRESS PARCEL from South Africa.  I have reason to believe it contains our Christmas Presents from Dad.

The presents are in the mail
As I drive, I brood.  I worry that I have not heard from the family that my Christmas Presents for them have arrived.  I fear the worst.  This year I failed to fully insure and register the Christmas Box.  After visiting South Africa this summer it seemed paranoid to spend $35 extra to make sure that it got there.  I felt it would since they'd caught those thieves at Oliver Thambo Airport and sorted out the main problem.   Anyway, I worry that the Christmas Presents, mailed December 5th, have been stolen.  Dad is sanguine.  He says they are probably still delayed due to the big freeze in the UK.  I want to believe.  I suspect Dad remembers the days when international parcels went by sea and took 6 weeks.  Remarkably, his parcel to me has arrived within a week.  This augers ill for my parcel reaching them and I start to think what Backup Christmas Presents I can send.


As we climb the hill in the stream of traffic I remember that I have left the masala sauce bubbling on the stove.  I reach for my cell to call Frost and ask him to turn it off, but have left my cell phone at home after one of Frost's friends called to ask for a playdate and I talked to her while slicing onions.  Now my cellphone remains near the onions, possibly near the site of the possible conflagration should the sauce burn and Frost not notice.  I start to worry that Frost notices too late and tries to turn it off and then gets burned.  I ponder turning around but the traffic is determined and evenly spaced.  There is no way to get off this arterial without wasting more time than my direct route.

At the post office I learn that the parcel I have come to collect is still out for Delivery in the mail truck.  He found me out but has not made it back in time.  I learn that it is Tuesday 4th January and Not Tuesday 5th, as I had believed.  I recall that an early sign of dementia is not knowing the date or day of the week.

Being called on my Twitting
At the major intersection where I must turn left, a cautious turner makes all of us miss the lights.

"You twit!" I exclaim.

"Why do you call everyone a TWIT when you drive a car?"  Wren asks.
"It is a bad habit.  Its what I say when I am frustrated."  I explain.
"Are you mad?"  He checks.  Wren checks this all the time. It makes me mad when he checks all the time whether I am mad when I am not mad at all merely saying "no" or "ow" or some other less-than-thrilled emotion.
"You should stop doing it.  Promise you will never ever do that again."  he demands.
"Well, I don't want to but sometimes I forget.  Like when you hit Frost on the head or in the tummy.  I tell you not to but you do it again."
"That is not like that." says Wren.
"Well, it is a bit."  I argue.
"No, its not."
"I shall try and stop saying people are twits when they are." I concede.

The Younger Generation  are also Twits
We race home through the twits and arrive to find the sauce nicely reduced and in a good state.  Frost is doing his Geography Homework.  He has a list of questions.  Instead of solving the geography puzzles by looking at a map to locate a certain Gulf, find the longest nation in South Ameria or determine which Hemisphere contains the most land mass - he Googles it.  Apparently his Geography Quiz questions are common ones because all are answered on Answers.com or Wikipedia.

When I complain about his methods Frost says "I am doing research."

I notice him googling "What country is between Seattle and Anchorage" and grab the Atlas and tell him to look at the map.

"WHAAAT!" he exclaims in shock when he realizes that Alaska is north of Canada.  "I thought Alaska was down there!" he gestures towards Florida.

"Um, no.  You have to drive through lots of Canada to get to Alaska."
"Why is it America if its UP THERE!"   Apparently Frost has no future in US foreign policy. 
"I am sure some people in Canada wonder that too."
He stares at the map a bit longer before googling the next thing, something that would require turning to another map page instead of one-finger typing in a querey.

This generation is going to be real dumb real soon if they are without google.

Hawaii Bound
After dinner we sit in the man cave to watch a DVD on Kauai I borrowed from the library.  Frost has been keen to visit Kauai but after viewing the DVD he starts to ululate with joy and shout about Guavas everwhere and going up rivers on a boat and boogie boarding and eating shaved ice.   It has become real.  We have booked a trip to Kauai this spring and since it was very pricey I am avowed to get maximum benefit by anticipating the hell out of the trip for the full 2-3 months lead time.

I have also vowed to learn Spanish.  I have been embarrassed making calls in my Freelance work and hearing many respondents switch from Spanish to English when I flounder.   Today, Wren and I learned to say Hola and Buenos Dias.  Wren said it to 4 people.  We also practiced counting.

Unfortunately, they don't speak Spanish in Hawaii or I'd make it a whole educational thing.

What else is going on?

My First Running Injury
I am training for my half-marathon.  I am much faster than I thought - my faster pace seems to be around 9 minutes per mile for 4 miles - but I am weaker too as I have a mild calf-strain since the last run.  It didn't happen in a dramatic fashion, just started to feel sore and really tightened up when I cooled down.  I swam instead of running today which was good but I became quite waterlogged after 40 minutes and stopped.

We are talking about getting a dog this fall.  So far, the leading contender is a puggle.  However, looking at the price of these things I suspect a tulip bubble (or ostrich bubble, or alpaca bubble) and think we may get a small low-energy mutt.  To make an analogy - we would like the lost sock.  The one that is well loved, ordinary, and just needs to find a home.   In an alarming development (to me) Josh would consider dogs in the toy category.  You know, small fluffy things that sit on noble laps.  I tend more towards the large loping breeds which are often wet and full of mud.   Frost wants a corgi.  Wren wants "a cutey".

Frost on Broadway in the Bathroom
Frost is starting a drama class.  Josh gave him a man-talk and told him that the drama-geeks get the girls and so he should get ahead and learn his lines.  Frost wasn't keen at first but I have since seen him talking and gesturing to himself in the mirror and I think he is making up lines.  He also makes up and sings songs and sometimes dances in the middle of soccer matches leading Josh to announce "I don't think Frost has the right personality for soccer, I think he should get into drama as soon as possible."

He was frustrated with Frost who explained later that he was making up a song about playing levels of halo and forgot to look up.

Now, its time for me to get some tea and read my bookclub book.  This is my first bookclub and although friends tell me that reading the book is optional, I plan to do my homework so I can nod sagely while chewing my cocktail.

Blending Nirvana
Finally, no catchup blog post can be complete without mentioning the Vitamix.  I had a birthday and received a Vitamix from Mum and Josh and myself.  I had expected to use it a lot but I had not expected the blending mania to catch me to quite this degree.  Last night I made a curry which required coconut milk.  Rather than using canned milk I used a coconut Frost and Alex had opened (drilled and hammered) and grated the pulp in a cuisinart food processor.  I then added water to the pulp and blended it in the vitamix.  Then, I poured the thick creamy mixture into the Champion Juicer and extracted all the liquid.  We were left with some dry flakes of cocunut fibre and about 2 cups of coconut milk.  It was amazing how fatty it was.  When I scraped the vitamix container there was lots of coconut butter / fat in it which I ate.

I poured this coconut milk into the spiced sauteed onions and then cooked it down with squash, peas and tofu.  Delicious.

I am also having blending failures.  If you blend low-fat dairy yoghurt (for tzaziki) it turns into water.  They must put some kind of emulsifier in which fails in the face of the vitamix's blending power.  Similarly, soups can get too smooth and appear weirdly creamy.  This is nice for me but Frost and Wren prefer chunks.  Hummus is delicious and so easy - one can makes a whole cup of hummus.     The kids favorite drink so far is a raw shake - frozen bananas, agave, a tablespoon of raw coconut butter, raw cocoa, vanilla,  fresh nut milk and nut butter.  They beg for more.  I based it on the Thrive recipe for a chocolate shake.

Thank you Mum for the gift voucher for Thrive.  I had lunch and spent the rest on blending supplies (coconut butter, raw coconut pieces, red rice.)   Mrrmrmm

Frost asleep on the couch after staying up all night.

Wren hiding under the blanket to play the iPad when he is
already out of screen time.

Sickle Moon

I've just been woken up early by a phone-call from Florida.  Some guy would like to confirm his juice bar is the right Juice Bar.   I galloped out of bed to catch it and thanked him, hoping my voice was not too clouded by sleep.  I've been doing some freelance work confirming restaurant details and with the time zones in the US, I get these callbacks at odd times. 

Apparently, the curve of the earth has already found the sun, in Florida.

Back here in the PNW its still darkish.  The raccoons are making their way home and the sickle moon is still bright against the morning sky.   Wren is asleep in my bed after waking twice in the night which is quite unusual for him.  The only reason Wren usually wakes up is when Kitty Haiku has slept in his bedroom and scratches to be let out.  He mistakes her scratching for a raccoon and calls out in alarm.

Last night he told me he had "lost soft [shirt]."  I helped him find it.

The second time he was "very hot and wide awake now".   It was 5am and he didn't feel hot but I brought him to our bed where I promptly fell asleep and dreamed of strange permutations on the holidays while Wren squirmed and kicked me and snored with a slight whistle.

Seagulls are flying overhead and the sky is pink.  The buds on the camellia are getting larger and a few have tiny pricks of red on them.  In a few weeks we should have flowers.  What can pollinate this tree in the dead of winter?
  
Catching Up
The week before Christmas I took the boys to the Pacific Science Center to see a show of puzzles and challenges called Mindbender Mansion.  They both enjoyed running around filling in clues on their cards but the puzzles were too hard for Wren, and Frost at times.  The one they both loved was a large conveyer belt with wooden food trays on it.  There were puzzle pieces that you had to insert into the trays before they moved away into the machine.  This food tray filling race was always full of kids but the boys managed to get a turn.  Here they are earning their own high score:

Frost rushing to grab food for the next tray.

On the way home we took a route through Queen Anne.  We chanced apon a tree which had fallen the day before during a strong windstorm which swept through the area.  We were barely affected but there were many trees down due to the soil being sodden from days of rain.   The boys and I were very impressed by the dramatic scene.  Nobody was in the car when the tree fell, thankfully.

The unlucky car but its lucky owner.

It was a large tree.

The boys sneak up to peer inside.  Frost says "The windscreen
was broken!"

Wren says "I am looking like that because I want to be AHSOME [sic]"

S is for Snowboarding

This morning I took Frost and Alex up to Snoqualmie Pass to try snowboarding. Neither of the boys had done it before but they are at an age where that seems like a thing they could do, and both were enthusiastic.

It was pouring with rain in Seattle but around North Bend the skies cleared and we had sun in the morning and then some overcast clear weather later in the day.  It was around 34 degrees at the base of Summit Central but in the high 20s at the top of the Central Express.  I got quite hot skiing.

Alex with his gear

Frost ready to try Holiday, sort of.

 The boys had a two hour group lesson where they learned the basics of managing a board.  They complained that it was a bit boring and that they kept wiping out because people hit into them.  The bunny slope by the magic carpet (a moving conveyer belt for learning on) was very full of kids and clumsy adults so I understood their feelings.  After their lesson I offered to take them up Holiday - a green run with a two person chairlift.  The only tricky part, I thought, would be the dismount.

Oh, the drama.

Frost was reluctant.  He was tired.  He had not had lunch.  He had fallen over and twisted his leg "almost off."  Alex was very keen.   I agreed and slightly persuaded Frost to go up too.  As we waited for the chairlift in the long line I told the boys that the chair stopped from time to time because people fell over as they got off.  Somewhere along the line this became "fell OFF" the chairlift.   The next time it stopped abruptly Frost became quite convinced that someone had fallen off (30 ft in the air?) onto the snow.  He had overheard someone ask "are you alright?" and seen someone below the chairlift and a seat with only one occupant.  It all made sense.  Suddenly the chairlift became perilous.

"Oh, why did I let you persuade me to do this?" asked Alex, who had been the instigator.

Alex 25 feet up and loving it, a bit.  I learned later that he
thought you had to jump down to dismount.

Frost had to ride with another kid because the seats only take two.
Both boys were worried their boards would just fall off their boots.

I told them they would be fine.  And they were.  Both gripped the seat tightly on the way up and neither did a graceful slide dismount BUT neither actually fell over.  I was very impressed.

Getting down the hill proved more of a challenge.  The bunny hill is a small and marginal decent but even the green run is a great deal more vertical.  You can get up some speed. Frost became very frustrated and lay down in the snow in pain and despair more than I few times.  I said "I can't get you down off this hill any other way." more than a few times.

We despaired together.

Alex fell over many times but also made some speedy progress (generally involuntarily).

Alex waiting for Frost to get up.

Frost lying in the snow thinking about getting up.

On the way home in the car both boys said that "the free end part was the best time!"

Boys.

While they were in lessons I spent 2 hours on the slopes.  It has been 5 years since I skied and I was rusty.  I did a few green runs and then went down the big blue slopes (intermediate) from Central Express and Golden Nugget.  That was a lot of fun.  If I skied 3 or 4 more times this season I think I would try a black once, just for fun.   My current skis are on the long side and I coveted the shorter tails of the modern carving skis.  I have to really lean forward into my skis to get the weight off the tails during turns.

Heres some snow for you South Africans and Aussies with
your Summer Christmases.

Conditions at the top on my last run - overcast but dry. 

WANTED:  Ski buddy for intermediate joyful skier
sick of being the +1 in the chairlift line (although you get to go sooner).

 
Still, very happy, very sore and lots of fun.  

Mince Pies
I am very pleased with QFC.  This evening I realized it was almost too late to fulfill all the holiday traditions from my past.  I have been so busy having American Children that I nearly forgot the importance of having mince pies during the holidays, that you need a Christmas Pud on Christmas day and that yorkshire puddings are great with gravy!

Thankfully, QFC at U-Village carries a wide range of British Foods.  The only thing that was sold out was spotted dick.  I tracked down the Christmas pudding on the bottom shelf of the dried fruits section, along with fruit mince.  It was Cross and Blackwell and the mince pies I made (at 10pm) are now cooling.  I plan to take some over to Tara's in the morning when I fetch Frost (who is having a sleepover after seeing a performance at Seattle Childrens' Theatre).

Dad, this is for you - Shortcrust pastry from scratch.  I made it
with freshly milled flour bought at the farmers market.  
Remembering what you said I handled it as little as possible.

MINCE PIES (plus a few huckleberry jam ones for the kids who have
yet to acquire colonial tastes.

Gingerbread Houses

Yesterday, the boys and I decorated their gingerbread houses.  Frost had a kit from Fred Meyer and Wren had one from Trader Joes.  Gingerbread house building is an activity fraught with danger.  The most likely result is that the frosting will have the wrong consistency and not cement the pieces of the house together before the roof slides down or the walls cantilever outwards.  Having witnessed these scenes of horror in prior years, as well as the untenable wait between construction and decoration, I built the houses while the kids were asleep.  They woke to the site of virgin, dry, stable gingerbread houses surrounded by candy and were spared the mess, drama and construction setbacks when the cans used to prop the walls slid of the board and toppled over.

"We will eat candy for breakfast!" they chorused.

It wasn't quite that bad, but certainly a noble intention.

Wren opens the bags of candy before breakfast.

One of the kits came with pre-mixed royal icing.   I used this one to build the houses and had to mix up my own icing (per box instructions) for the second batch.  This failed.  The icing was thin and slimy.  When I piped it in the bag it shot out in pretty patterns that did not hold larger candies in place.

I said a bad word.

Frost told me not to.

I scraped the faulty icing out of the bag (not easy) and added more powdered sugar.  Departing wildly from the quantities on the box, I managed to dry up the mixture until it was more paste like.  Now it wouldn't squirt so I had to smear it on the houses.  Wren wanted me to make icicles but the frosting was constipated so I had to content him with many dollops hither and thither.  The boys were utterly happy and fought vigorously to have the most gum-drops, jelly beans and other rare or preferred candy on their house.

When they tired, they ate candy until they were "done".

The houses looked fanTASTic.

Wren and Frost with their decorated houses

Wren showing how he feels when I told him he could not eat the house until Christmas and
Joshua said "It will be stale by then."

I said "Gingerbread houses are stale when they come out of the box."
"But we can still eat the candy, right?" asked Frost.  Wren nodded and ate some immediately,
in case I said "no."

Midnight Feasts and Turning 4

Its 11.30pm and Frost and Isaac are eating breakfast cereal in his room.  Its a midnight feast.  I am hoping this aberration in discipline may lead to some sleeping in tomorrow but, if not, it is still okay.  When I was a kid we used to wake up late and sneak around for midnight feasts on most sleepovers.  I am not sure I share the novelty of eating in the dark of night but as transgressions go it is not a very large one.

I hope they go to bed soon.

Meanwhile, Wren has turned four.  He did it with some style and excitement.  After days of counting down to his birthday it was finally here and he had a Harry Potter cake (aka a purple star cake with silver balls on it).

He loved his presents and now carries his Lego rock monster around in a plastic sandwich bag (so as not to lose parts such as the minute Lego jewels encrusting his back).

Wren before the Birthday Table at preschool.

Wren dressed for his preschool birthday celebration

Wren and his friends at the birthday party.

Up close and personal with his Harry Potter birthday cake
MADE BY ME, obviously.

Wren with his ACTUAL birthday cake.  This was
a noel log chosen by Wren at Wholefoods.
He ate the little snowman and I ate the cake, almost.  Tara helped.

I am up late too, having just returned from a joint 50th birthday with Trey and Jaxie.  It was a good group of people fueled by a great bowl of Mai Tai punch.  There was a little note by the punch bowl "This contains rum."  Unfortunately, it did not specify how much Rum.  About half an hour after imbibing a good glass of it I came to believe it contained a great deal of rum and was grateful that there were Very Interesting People to talk to without inhibition.

Later, there were shots of champagne jello with little oranges and whipped cream as well as a twist of burnt toffee.  Delicious.

Now, you must excuse me to go and put those midnight snacking boys to bed.

Christmas Lights and Why the Floors are Sticky

Its the Holiday Season in Seattle.  This means that parking lots are always full, websites and calendars are buzzing with listings of  Craft Fairs, Winter Festivals, theater, dance, Meaningful Moments with Santa at the mall and Family Traditions (Trademark, TM, TM).  There's the Nutcracker (which seems to be some kind of obligatory cult to which you drag your kids), Christmas train rides, a carousel, ice-skating and many opportunities to buy Christmas gifts and treat yourself along the way.

When you call your friends, people preface any attempt to make plans with "I know its the busy season but..." as if it is understood that we are all overstressed and scheduled with our Holiday Spirit (TM) and yet, my secret is that we are not that busy. 

Sure, there are many Memorable things to do which exemplify the winter season.  There are things that are fun to do.  However,  Fun and Memorable do not always coincide.  At times I feel the sheer abundance on offer tempts us to pay or participate in experiences just because they are there.  So, I try to remember to leave time to do the things I like, like running, pilates, drinking lattes, spending time with friends and ....

 baking cookies :)

Eating our way to Christmas
Today I hosted a "Cookie Exchange" in which 6 of us baked cookies and brought them to my house to swap.  We each ended up with a mixed box (or rather boxes) of cookies.

As a result, my kitchen is a wreck - the floor is sticky - the dishwasher is on its third load and I cannot eat dinner tonight because of all the sampling I have been doing all day.

The cookies await division (and sampling)

Wren digs his hand into a tub of marshmallow cream.

Anna and Meghan work out an algorithm to allocate cookies equitably.

These large frosted cookies were Wren's favorites. 
He ate TWO immediately I had my portion allocated.

But it was a lot of genuine fun and Wren had his best playdate ever (4 friends for a total of 4 hours!)

And did I mention that the cookies are Utterly Fabulously Varied and Delicious (TM).

Lighting the Path to Goodness
We also enjoy Christmas Lights and have recently decorated the house with colored strands of lights and draped other white ones over the bushes.  We have yet to install the illuminated deer which raises and lowers its head (seriously, folks abroad.  It does!).  A few weeks ago, we visited a display of Christmas Lights at the Bellevue Botanical Garden.  It was very intensely pretty.  I would be one of those outsider artists if my house looked anything like the garden but it was a fun thing to do together and an excuse for a hot chocolate [during the holiday season kids take to asking for hot chocolate instead of wearing sweaters and coats].

Wren sips cocoa by the shining lake of lights.

A glowing moon by the Japanese pavilion.

The Garden Vista

Wren looks out over the lake made of lights.

The spider lights were a favorite.
Wren was interested in the fly that was caught in the web.

Frost is enjoying the holiday season.  He says that to him it means "Fun, getting presents, celebration also family times and presents and Compassion To Others."

I notice that he has been well indoctrinated.

Wren says that birthday and Christmas mean that he will get Lego Lavatraz.

The Fight as Family Tradition
Wren is enjoying being a Warrior and spends much of the day hauling around weapons (bows, arrows, guns, wooden swords).  He likes to parry and wrestle with Frost but occasionally over-reaches and hurts Frost (and visa versa).

Wren says "Take a picture of my bad guy face."

Yesterday, Wren and Frost were on the couch.  Frost was watching Tower Prep on TV.  Wren waved his rifle at Frost and said "I am going to hit you in the eye" and then proceeded to swing at Frost and hit him across the nose.  Frost had an egg on his nose in a place that I have never seen swell - he was crying and Wren received the ultimate punishment - all the weapons went away for 24 hours. 

He kept checking if it was "the next day yet?"  Thankfully, he has been a bit more circumspect with his artillery today and didn't overexpose his 3 and 4 year old playmates with his fighting moves.  More than a few times our friends mentioned how their children (two are eldest boys) are not exposed to as many concepts as Wren because "they don't have older siblings."

I didn't choose to complete the sentence as I would usually:  "They don't have older siblings who play video games and a father who likes fantasy battles."

The Geek Tradition -  Penny Arcade Charity Auction
Speaking of Joshua's fantasy battles, his Christmas tradition is to attend the Penny Arcade Child's Play Charity Auction.  This year I went with him.

Josh and I actually do go out sometimes.

It was a lot of fun with people dressed in period costume, tattooed ladies and men in coat tails.  There was also a stray Zombie wandering around (from Plants Versus Zombies - PVZ), apparently looking for his creators at Pop Cap Games.

The Portal Gun $15K.  Apparently you do not run around
the house playing Paintball with it.

The most eye-opening part of the night was the auction of high-ticket items like a Portal Gun known to geeks and officianados as a masterful replica of a significant element of gamer lore but as a Toy Gun to the rest of us.  It sold for over $15,000, buoyed by goodwill towards Children's Hospital and a certain amount of 'Festive Cheer'.

I hope you are enjoying your Holiday Season and are just the right amount of busy to have fun.

Wren turns FOUR in a few days.  Keep and eye out for a birthday party post.

Overheard in the back seat

I feel I could start a column called "overheard in the back seat".  It would feature those odd conversations you overhear your kids having while you are driving them places.  Family dinner eat-your-heart-out!  Lets face it, with all the connected devices at home, the real quality time for a pre-texting family is when you have them strapped in the car.

This afternoon Wren asked Frost "what is Christmas?"
Then I asked him too.

Frost said "Its either a celebration of Jesus's birthday, the day he was born or the day he died.   Wait, the day he was born is his birthday.  So, its either a celebration of Jesus's birthday or the day he died."

Me:  Which one do you think?

Frost: I don't know.  I can't remember.

Me [hinting heavily]:  Which do you think is more likely with the gifts we give each other?

Frost:  Oh, I don't know. 

Me:  Really?

Frost:  Well, I guess a birthday?

Me:  Why would we celebrate Jesus being killed?

Frost:  I don't know.

Sometimes I wonder what those advanced placement tests measure.  It is surely not religious intelligence or common sense.

How do you dispose of a friend aka The Death of the Christmas Card

Who sends Christmas cards?   Anyone?  Not virtual cards that sing Jingle Bells with an animated reindeer but real paper from trees type of Christmas Cards?

Okay, the first thing you want to do is correct me.  "We don't send Christmas Cards" you say, "we send Holiday cards."  They must be non-denominational.  They need to include Kawaanza, Hannukah, Waldorf fairies and Christmas.

Still, who sends Holiday cards?

Perhaps its just me becoming unpopular.  In the old days [aka the 1980s] when I was a kid, by now the mailbox would be full of cards.  I would collect the stamps from England, from Swaziland, from Australia and open the cards from everyone who had even the most tangential relationship to my family.  We would hang up a string in the living room and hang the cards on it.  Sometimes they would have treats like bookmarks or letters in them.  After Christmas we would cut them up and make scrapbooks out of them, or collect them in old chocolate boxes.

The cards were lovely.  They had embossed angels and silver foil inlays and shiny stars.  Some had pictures of old English villages with carol singers.  They had peace doves spouting words in many languages.  They had illuminated letters and bold wishes for peace and love and joy.  They were happy and generous and just plain pretty.

So far, this year we have received ONE CARD [thankyou Corlie].   And next year I probably won't get that card either because of what I am going to write next.

The few remaining people who send cards, send pictures of their family printed into cards.  Its like a kind of photographic swap meet.   I am sitting at my desk right now doing it too.  I send out photo-cards of my family and you send me photo cards of your family and then we all hope we remember each other until next year.

These photo cards of your family are pretty but they are not something I am going to store for posterity but I can't throw them away either.   In Indonesia I was taught that it is very bad luck to throw away a photograph of someone.  Its quite dangerous.  Its like throwing away your relationship or casting them into peril.  So what do I do with the Holiday cards with all our loved friends kids on them, our family nieces and nephews?

Surely you've felt it?  You try and throw away a photo and the smiling faces stare reproachfully out from the recycling.  You wonder if its okay to recycle them - isn't that like Shredding them?   I end up stacking them someplace for long enough that I forget and later dispose of them suddenly, like the pickled plums you really didn't like but never throw out of the fridge until, finally, you are allowed because they have grown mold and are entering another phase of their lives which is obviously better performed in the yard waste.

The only people who send me real cards are our real estate agent, our financial adviser, our insurance company and the guy down the road who keeps trying to get me to make a financial plan (with him).

Anyway, if you get one of my Holiday Cards I hope you enjoy it for a little while.  I will survive if you recycle me.  I will still send you one next year.  And if you send me one I shall string it over the fireplace and appreciate it because it is one of very few.  But I will dispose of your card eventually and hope you forgive me.

Wren worries about death

You probably know that Wren is an anxious type.  As Teacher Jennifer puts it "he goes to that Worried place" when things happen.

A few nights ago Wren told me that he was worried about being dead.  He didn't want to die.   "What do they do to people when they are dead?"

Not wanting to dwell on burial versus cremation, I told him that there are many different opinions about what happens when you are dead but its not worth worrying about right now.

I was starting to panic wondering why Wren was worried about death!  He told me:

"Because you played that game with me with the pigs in the forest and the one pig was EATEN by the monster.  He was DEAD and the other pigs were sad."

So, it was all my fault playing M rated games with him.

Pigs in the Forest is Wren's favorite game.  In it
a family of Pigs face various perils in a forest full of wolves and monsters
but are usually victorious.

Today, on the way home from Fred Meyer, Wren asked me where all the babies come from when there were no grown-ups.  I told him that was a mystery.

"I did not like being inside your tummy," he announced.  "I was there a very long time."

I said that it was not such a long time and we were very happy to have him as our baby.   I said he was only there about 10 months.

Wren:  Oh, that is a short time.
Me:  Well, its not SHORT but it wasn't a long time.
Wren:  Have you run out of babies now?
Me:  [Suddenly realizing that he believed the babies were all waiting in the tummy all the years of our lives and in a kind of queue to come out]
Yes, they are all come out now.

After a moment of silence he asked me how babies get into the tummy so I explained that Daddies and Mommies have things like little tiny seeds which mix to make a baby.

Then he started to cry.

Me:  What's wrong Wren?
Wren:  I don't want to make a baby!
Me:  You don't have to!
Wren: How do you STOP making a baby?
Me:   Well... ah... there are lots of ways, you don't need to worry about that now.
Wren:  HOW!!!!
Me:  You won't make a baby now, you don't need to worry.

Advent Calendar
A more normal incident from this morning.


[Wren has just woken up early.   He is still disoriented and yawning, but driven by the desire for the Advent Calendar.]


Wren:  Where is my advent calendar?
Me:  It is under the desk.
Wren:  Oh no, but this hand is weaker and this hand is stronger so if I pick it up with two hands it will go WEEAOO to the floor.
Frost:  I will get it for him.
Wren:   Is it the Lego or the Playmobil?
Frost:  Today, you can do both of them and tomorrow I will do the Lego one.
Wren:  What is it?
Frost:  Hey, where did the tiny piece go?
Wren:  It is round and roly so maybe it fell on the floor.
Frost:  Help me look for it!
Wren:  No, I am opening the other one.  I am opening the Wrong One!
Frost:  Mum, later in the day will you look for the one cylinder lego?
Me:  I guess so.  It is a common piece.
Frost:  Wren got lots of birds!
Wren:  Lets try and find the little piece.

Its 7.30am and we are crawling around on the floor looking for a dot of Lego.

The Danger of Being Frost

It is a very dangerous business being Frost.   The world seems to throw many unexpected obstacles in his path which hurt him.  You or I might occasionally stub a toe or hit an elbow closing a car door in a hurry.  Not Frost!   He has multiple injuries in a day.

Here are a sampling of Frost injuries on Saturday.

Incident 1.
Frost is tapping his foot on the floor to pace himself as he practices xylophone in the living room.

Frost:  OW, OWWWW.  DAMMIT. 
Me:  What's wrong Frost?  You ok?
Frost:   OW.  
Me:  Frost?  [You notice that I no longer get up from the table to investigate, being long inured to these  catastrophes]
Frost:  I hit the side of my head with the mallet and now my head is throbbing!

Incident 2.
I am in the bathroom at the Memorial Stadium as we prepare for the 1 mile Children's Marathon on Saturday early.  Frost is waiting in the corridor outside the ladies.  When I come out he is bending over holding his head.  He continues to walk along holding his head.

Me: Why are you walking like that?
Frost:  My head hurts.
Me:  What happened to you?
Frost:  I was sliding along the walk.  You know,I was walking along with my head brushing against the wall and I didn't see a cable box thing and suddenly my head went WHAM and it hit the cable box heater thing!
Me:  Why were you sliding along the wall?
Frost:  I don't know.

Incident 3.
Frost is playing magic the gathering at the dining room table.  He is turning over cards while sitting on a chair with one knee.  The other leg is on the floor.  He keeps jiggling from foot to foot and mumbling thoughts or a song under his breath.  This is a very Frost moment.

Frost:  OWWWW.  DAMMIT DAMMIT. 
Me:  What did you do now?  You are just sitting there!
Frost:  Stop.  Don't .... talk..... ow........argh.

I shake my head.

Me:  Well, you poor thing?  What happened?
Frost:  I ....... hit.... my ...... funnybone ..... on the table!

The other day, Wren was upset with me for some reason and gave me the Fierce Glare (he freezes, goes "grrrrrr" under his breath and then glares at you as if he were a wolf in the forest).  On this occasion he also "flipped a bird" at me.     I couldn't keep a straight face but I told him it was rude.

Of course, Wren also says DAMMIT when he stubs his toe.