A New American Family

Syndicated link

2008-08-14T16:41:33Z

If you want to keep reading, here is the link to my syndicated blog.

http://syndicated.livejournal.com/amfam

Big thanks to amygooglegirl for setting it up!

americanfamily @ 2008-08-14T09:16:00

2008-08-14T13:18:31Z

Hmm. It appears that I can't fix the lj crossposter for my blog.

Does anyone reading this have a paid or permanent LJ account who would be willing to syndicate it for me? I am not sure exactly how it works, but there is some more info here:
http://www.livejournal.com/support/faqbrowse.bml?faqid=137

Amber

Broken Feed thing

2008-08-13T23:48:01Z

I usually post to this blog via a crossposter plugin on Wordpress, but it is currently broken.

I am going to try to fix it tonight or tomorrow, but until you see more regular posts, you may need to click over to my other blog if you are reading this on LJ. You know, if you just can't get through the day without knowing what I am currently complaining about. heh.

Sorry for the inconvenience!

http://american-family.org

sigh

2008-08-10T02:44:56Z

Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

I suppose it was too much to hope that I could enjoy the Olympics without having to talk about politics, but I was wrong.

I don’t even like sports, but last night during the opening ceremony, I kept getting teary. Why? Because the Olympics are one of the few moments that we share as human beings. Chances are, eyes from ever single country on this planet are watching (or watched) the same thing I was watching. Chances are good L’s family in China saw it too.

When ever Chinese person we knew was getting more and more excited about the olympics in Beijing, I poo-poo-ed it. I thought it was a big deal over nothing. But when I saw it? It was a big freaking deal. It was something Chinese people could be proud of.

It was a moment where the country of China was saying “We want to be a respected member of the international community. We want to play with the big boys. We want your respect and admiration and we are willing to bend over fucking backwards and pay through the nose to get it.”

That moment, where the admiring eyes of the world watched one of the most spectacular performances I have ever seen, was not about the Chinese government. It was about the Chinese *PEOPLE*. One-fifth of the world’s population that has been trying to claw its way back into respectability for the last 35 years. Can’t the Chinese people have a couple weeks where they can be proud of the massive accomplishments they have made in the last three decades?

Is the Chinese government fucked up? Heck yeah! They oppress their minorities, deny women and families their reproductive rights and force people to move for public work projects.

Is the Chinese government any more fucked up than the US government? It depends on who you ask. In case you are forgetting, the US government is responsible for this and this and this. Oh wait, there is this and this and this and this. Seriously, I could google US human rights abuses and misdeeds until my fingers bleed.

Do I wish the Chinese government would have saved the money they spent on the Olympics and spent it for their orphans or the poor or whatever? Sure. But I also wish the US government would save the $3 TRILLION dollars it is spending on the Iraq war to provide health care for poor people in America too. Besides, I would rather watch the fireworks in China than watch US bombs blow people up.

You don’t like the Chinese government? Fine. Protest all you want. Boycott Chinese-made goods. Ooooh, maybe you won’t even watch the Olympics. Is that going to do diddly-squat to change things in China? Heck no, it won’t.

The Chinese government isn’t going to straighten up its act if we isolate and shame them. What makes countries behave themselves is being a member of the larger community of developed nations.

When China grows up –and it WILL grow up eventually, because you can’t keep down a fifth of the world’s population if they have a lust for education and wealth like the Chinese — it will have to answer not only to the rest of the world. The Chinese government is going to have to answer to the Chinese PEOPLE. People who will eventually be relatively wealthy and educated and plugged in to the global community.
The Chinese people have tasted the Big Mac and they want more. They want more and they want to be better, just like most of the rest of the citizens of this planet.

Sure some wrinkly old guys are trying to cling desperately to their party’s place in the corrupt power structure, but then, we have that here too.

China is changing faster than pretty much anywhere else on the planet. It is impossible to predict what will happen there in 10 or 20 years, but I will go out on a limb and bet there is democracy in China in my lifetime. (Not that democracy prevents human rights violations, as the US is so eager to demonstrate time and again.) Things are changing there for the better and I expect the trend to continue, but it won’t happen over night.

It isn’t every day we get the honor of a truly global event. This week, our family is going to enjoy watching the Olympics with the rest of the world. You now, with all those people whose governments are imperfect but whose citizens hope for something better, just like us.

If you want to talk smack about Chinese politics, I am not going to provide the venue for it on my blog. Not this week.

One World, One Dream

2008-08-09T17:51:08Z

Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

Damn, wasn’t the Olympic opening ceremony pretty effing awesome? I mean, no one else can throw a couple thousand performers out there and do it as well as the Chinese.

I asked Mr. A what he thought as we were watching:

Me: “So, you are impressed?”

Mr.A: “Yes.”

Me: “What are you thinking?”

Mr. A: “I should have worked harder at learning Chinese.”

Me: “Does it make you feel proud of your people?”

Mr. A: “Yes, but also a little scared.”

Me: “Scared?”

Mr. A: “Yeah, see how those guys are walking all over that big lit-up globe? It is like they are saying ‘We are coming to take over the world with our massive numbers and ostentatious display of new found wealth!’”

Me: “Yup, I can see how one might interpret it that way…but look! There are the happy faces of all the children of the world flashing on the screens. They are smiling because they are happy to be conquered by the wealthy Chinese masses! If they manage the world has well as they have managed the opening ceremony, we will all be happier once China rules the world! Just give into your Chinese-ruled destiny, my friend.”

Mr. A: “Man, the Chinese are good at propaganda.”

Shoppers Block

2008-08-08T16:48:10Z

Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

It appears that two months without shopping has had an unexpected side effect. In the last week, I have tried to buy things at the mall, target, and another mall. Each time I came home completely empty-handed. Target for crying out loud! How could I leave Target with NOTHING?? (Actually, you can blame that one on a tired and hungry toddler. It wasn’t worth the struggle to buy new toothbrushes.)

I even spent about 1.5 hours shoe shopping online last night and didn’t buy a damn thing.

I wonder if this is a long-term problem or if it will resolve itself with more shopping practice?

minutiae

2008-08-07T17:42:30Z

Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

On to less serious topics…

Only 3 weeks until school starts. I already bought all M’s school supplies, her lunch box/thermos and backpack. We aren’t really going to buy her any new clothes until the weather turns chilly. We are super-duper fortunate that my good friend sends M and L her girls’ hand-me-downs and they are in immaculate condition. M may end up needing a few sweaters/jeans, but she will be dressed to the nines in ~~name brand or boutique~~ beautiful dresses and outfits for the first couple months. She will need two new pairs of shoes so I am going to go get her feet measured today so I can order them online. I am thinking she will probably need a pair of maryjanes and maybe some tennis / gym shoes.

Since we don’t have to buy new clothes, I am going to indulge myself and buy new socks for both M and L. Despite my best efforts to buy them all all the same kinds of only black and white socks, we seem to not have any matching pairs anywhere in this house. WTF?? I am so fed up, I am just going to throw all the old socks away and start fresh.

Is it wrong that I already google-stalked all the kindergarten teachers?

Our shopping hiatus is officially over today. (We extended it one week into august because we didn’t want to worry so much about expenses on vacation in July) I tried desperately to cheat and buy myself some much-needed new t-shirts and fall clothes last weekend but came home completely empty handed. Apparently, this year the designers have decided that women are actually 7 feet tall, so the t-shirts all hang down to the bottom of my ass. Is it too hard to make a standard, regular length t-shirt?

Today, I read this article and then downloaded the Edison program. We are working on making small changes to help cut our energy usage, so maybe this will help a little. I have also been trying to unplug appliances we are not using. Baby steps, but every little bit helps, right?

Over and out.

talking about race at age 5

2008-08-06T17:04:34Z

Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

In a comment, AlisonG asked:

I’m curious about how you talk to M and L about Asian appearance. My daughter (Chinese) is 2.5 and I’m searching for terms for her skin colour, eye shape, etc. that don’t come across as racist or offensive. Any suggestions?

I mentioned this in one of the previous posts, but I thought it might be good to elaborate on it a little.

We talk quite a bit about being Chinese or Taiwanesse or Asian and what that means. It is just a regular part of our day-to-day conversation. I suppose it might sound weird in other families, but in our house, it is was it is.

For example, last week we had tofu for dinner and this was the conversation:

Mr. A: “L sure is a good Chinese girl! She loves this tofu!”

M: “Do all chinese people like tofu? Because I like this one but I don’t like the brown kind (dried tofu).”

Mr. A: “Oh, not all Chinese people like tofu, but in China people eat a lot of tofu. Even if you don’t like tofu, you are still Chinese because I am Chinese.”

M: “Well, that brown kind is yucky. I like RICE because I am Chinese, right Daddy?”

Mr. A: “Lots of people in China eat rice, that’s for sure. The rice we buy comes from China. People in China eat a lot of rice, but they also eat a lot of noodles.”

Yada, yada, yada. (I should note that I often let Mr. A handle these conversations about what Chinese people are like, because I think it is his perogative to define “chinese” not mine.)
M doesn’t really have a handle on racial identification based on appearance yet, which is why I was so surprised by the park thing. We have tried to discuss it with her, but she doesn’t get it.
I just went and asked M to tell me what Chinese people look like and she said this: Black hair, kind of dark skin, and Chinese clothes (?!?). I asked “What about you? Your hair isn’t black?” She agreed that her hair isn’t black, then she said her skin is a little dark and she “knows Chinese words, silly!” so she is Chinese.

Then we ran through some examples of other people with brown skin and black hair who are not Chinese. She could tell me the ethnicity of kids from school who meet this description (Japanese, Indian, Mexican/Germanese etc.) because they talked a lot about this at her school*.
Then, when we went over examples of other people whose ancestry she didn’t know, she was clueless. For example, yesterday a friend and her son came to visit and they were both South Asian (but born here). When I asked M what they were, she said “English.” When I asked why she thought that, she said “Because I have only ever seen them in America.” (Which totally makes no sense given she has only known the vast majority of people in her life in America.)
I think she isn’t yet ready developmentally to grasp the subtleties of visual racial clues, unless they are very obvious or accompanied by another language/accent. I need to get out my book on raising multiracial kids and see what she is developmentally able to grasp at this age.

We usually let M lead these conversations and tell us how she thinks people look.

I just asked her if she thinks there is anything different about people’s eyes and she said “The colors? Oh, and also the size. L has little eyes, you have big eyes, I have medium eyes.”

I thought maybe she was trying to talk about Asian eyes as “little” but then I asked her to elaborate and she said “L has the littlest eyes, mine are bigger, yours are bigger than mine, but Daddy’s are the biggest because he is the biggest person in our family!”

So I think she was actually talking about the size of the person’s body and head, not the shape of the eye.
Also, I think the distinctions between white and Asian will be less obvious to our kids because they see so many people of both groups intermixed all the time (in our family, extended family, their friend’s families, etc.). It definitely isn’t unusual for them to see a white dad, Asian mom and 100% Asian kid in one family, white mom and two Asian kids in another family or all Asians in a single family. So I think no one really stands out as “different” in those to categories for her.

*There was also some negatives to this conversation happening outside our control. For example, her teacher Mrs. Kim told the kids that “Koreans have white skin. People from India have brown skin.” So even though there were Indian kids and Korean kids in the class with *very* similar skin tones, they were being told that one was “white” and one was “brown”. That isn’t exactly how I would have handled that situation, obviously. I would have had each kid define their own skin color.

The Incident at the Playground (part 3)

2008-08-04T13:49:29Z

Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

When I decided to take M to the park, I was a little concerned about what might happen. Sure, I wanted M to learn that she was being silly. At the same time I didn’t want M to have an opportunity to hurt the other little girl’s feelings, which seemed like a definite possibility given M’s very forthright declaration of not wanting to play with someone who was “different” because she had “brown skin and braids”. I was planning on very closely monitoring the situation.
As soon as we entered the park and the little girl caught sight of M, she headed straight toward us. As she ran up, M said “HI!” but kept on doing what she was doing. The other girl didn’t say anything. M continued playing (and narrating her play to me and L) and the little girl continued following her wordlessly, always staying about 6-7 feet away. The lack of interaction was a little strange.

M decided she wanted to swing, so M, L and I headed over there. The little girl stuck right behind M, still not talking.

When we got to the swings, I decided I would talk if no one else was going to.

“So, what is your name?” I asked.

“Molly.” she said.

“Hi Molly, this is M and L.” I said.

“How old are you?” M asked, “I am five years old! My birthday is on February 9, 2003! What year were you born?
“I’m three.” Molly said.

Knowing that Molly was three, her lack of conversation made a lot more sense. Molly was only about an inch shorter than 5 1/2 year old M and she really looked 5. As soon as we found out she was only three, it was clear she was just acting like a three year old who really likes big kids. As the mostly one-sided conversation (from M) continued, I also concluded that Molly may be bilingual due to the way she was putting her sentences together and a slight accent. (I am guessing her parents were from Africa, but I don’t know.)

M continued to chatter on and on. Molly answered her questions occasionally. M tried to explain an imaginary game that she wanted to play to Molly, but Molly didn’t always follow M’s rules. I reminded M a few times that Molly was only three and M adjusted her play. They ran off to the slides together and played uneventfully for another 10 minutes, until we had to go home.

On the way home, I reminded M that she had said she didn’t want to play with Molly before because she looked different. “Well, that was before I knew her,” M said. We talked about how silly that was and that Molly ended up being a good playmate. We talked again about all our friends who had differences and how they are different. (We have continued to have this conversation over the past few days. M seems to enjoy it.) We also talked about how M might feel if someone didn’t want to play with her because she was Chinese or had brown hair or was a girl. M agreed she would feel sad and she didn’t want to make other people sad. Then we went home and she went to bed.

Sorry to disappoint the folks who thought there would be some big, dramatic ending to this story, but it was real life.

I will be honest and say some part of me hopes that the original issue came up because Molly was only 3 (but looks 5) and didn’t play the way M expected her to. Mr. A said they had talked a little before M started to ignore her, so it could be possible. That doesn’t explain why M would blame Molly’s hair or skin color though.

The truth is I don’t know where this came from. M does have some friends who are Black and she has made friends with other Black kids in the park easily recently. There were no African American kids at M’s preschool, but there were a number of very dark-skinned south Asian kids. While M could tell me where every classmate’s parents immigrated or ancestors originated from and their skin/hair color, she had never placed any good/bad value on it to my knowledge.
I know I shouldn’t have been so surprised that this would happen, but it caught me off guard. I felt like we are trying to do a decent job of being anti-racist in our parenting. I think talk a lot about race and ethnicity in what I think is an age-appropriate way. I am realizing that we have talked a lot about differences, but not much about discrimination. I think M has shown us it is time for us to broaden the conversation.

Maybe we haven’t done enough in our day to day lives either. Maybe it was a mistake to send M to the preschool where the ethnic mix was mostly Asian, white and hapa. We knew we were sacrificing other diversity, but I felt like it was worth it for M to come out of preschool with a solid understanding of herself as (half) Asian and knowing other kids who shared that experience (which she did). I don’t know.

While I am not proud of this situation, but if I had neglected to share it here, it would have been really hypocritical after all my talk about being anti-racist. Even if we parent in a perfectly anti-racist way, our girls will be out in the world being influenced by people/things out of our control. We are trying to use it as a learning opportunity.

We just have to keep plugging away, I guess.

The Incident at the Playground (Part 2)

2008-08-01T20:11:19Z

Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

“Ok, M, we are going back to the park!” I said.

Even though this was a strange turn of events at 7:20 pm, M didn’t seem to mind.

“You know, M, you said something before that made me think of a story. When Mommy and Daddy first met, some people said ‘I can’t believe you two are friends! You look so different!’ but we said “Don’t be silly! Looking alike doesn’t have anything to do with who is a good friend!’ and Mommy and Daddy became best friends. We ended up getting married! Weren’t those people silly?” I said, possibly a little bit of desperation in my voice.

M looked confused. “But you and daddy DO look alike,” she said.

Hmm. This presented a problem. In previous discussions, M had indicated that she has a very difficult time recognizing the physical traits that people generally use to differentiate between Asians and people of European descent. (In part, I think this is because she currently refers to herself as “white skin,” but she has some of the other traits. We have had other recent conversations about “half Chinese” and her confusion, but that would be a different post.) So we spent a minute or two talking about how some people think Asians’ eyes look a certain way, skin tone, and hair color. It still didn’t seem like she was getting that Mr. A and I were viewed as different from each other, so I decided to change stories.

“M, do you remember meeting my friend Amelia? Do you remember what she looked like?” I asked.

M described my friend’s brown skin and very short hair. M has always been fascinated with Amelia’s very, very short hair.
“Amelia and Mommy look very different, don’t we? Amelia has dark skin, because she is from Africa. Mommy has lighter skin because my ancestors were from Europe. But we are still good friends, right?”

M conceded that yes, we are friends.

“Don’t you think it would be silly if I never talked to Amelia because she looked different from me? How would I know she could be such a good friend if I never talked to her?” I asked.

“Yes, she is your friend and she looks very different!” M said, “She has really, really, really short hair!”

“And she has dark skin,” I said, afraid M was trying to change the subject. “I have lots of friends who look different from me and you have lots of friends who look different from you. Can you think of ways our friends are different from us?”

Then we ran down a list of our friends, naming each one and describing something that was different than ourselves. We talked about different hair color, skin color, different languages people speak etc.

“And look at F!” I said, “You are friends with him and he is a BOY! That is different from you! He has a PENIS!”

M looked at me and said, “Mama, let’s keep potty talk out of this conversation.”

So then I told M I was surprised to hear her say she didn’t want to play with someone because she had different hair and dark skin. “She could be a very nice girl and a good friend. Just like all our other friends who are different from us. You will never know unless you talk to her.” I said.

Just then, we rounded the corner to the park. I saw a little girl who was about M’s age with dark skin and braids playing on the playground. I took a deep breath and we headed toward the slides.
(To be continued)

The Incident at the Playground (part 1)

2008-08-01T01:58:20Z

Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

The other night, Mr. A took the girls to the playground after dinner. When they came home about 45 minutes later, Mr. A whispered “Uh, there was an incident at the playground…”

This is what he described: M and L were playing at the playground and a little girl seemed VERY interested in playing with M. The little girl was Black, with dark skin and many braids. Usually, M is happy to play with anyone who will talk to her (particularly girls about her age), but not for some reason not this girl. Mr. A said M consistently ignored the little girl, despite her clear interest.

“I think she didn’t want to play with her because she was Black!” Mr. A whispered, “I didn’t know what to do, so we just came home.”
As you can imagine, this information made my stomach drop. I immediately flashed back to the many, many conversations I have had with M trying to avoid this very situation.

I decided to try to find out more info. I casually asked M if she made any new friends at the park.

“Not tonight,” she said, refusing to elaborate.

“Oh, weren’t there any kids there who were your age?” I asked.

“There was a girl…” M said, “But she was DIFFERENT so I didn’t want to play with her.”

(That loud thunk you just heard in your imagination was the sound of my jaw hitting the floor.)

“How was she different?” I said, very afraid to hear the answer.

“She had BRAIDS,” M said, “Lots and lots of braids. And her skin was very dark.”

So there it was. There was no way to pretend that M was avoiding the girl for some other reason. She just laid it all out there.

“Huh.” I said and backed out of the room to confer with Mr. A.

“OMFG!?!?! Did you hear what she said?? What the F-ITY F F F?!??!?!?” I hissed.

“She said THAT?!?!” he said, “What are we supposed to DO?”

“Well, we damn well have to do SOMETHING.” I said, “Was that girl still at the park? Maybe I should talk to M and take her back over there so she can learn that she is being ridiculous?”

After a quick discussion, that is exactly what I decided to do.

(To Be Continued)

Story Prompt

2008-07-30T02:16:56Z

Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

For lack of anything more interesting to say, this post is inspired by Princess Nebraska’s story prompt.

I wouldn’t say it was my best idea. One summer evening when I was 12 and having a friend sleep over at my house, I decided that I would show off by sneaking alcohol out of my parent’s liquor cabinet.

My parents have never been big drinkers. An occasional beer or maybe Fuzzy Navel was about as adventurous as they got. This meant that the selection I had to choose from was small. All I could find was a bottle of Peach Schnapps and a bottle of Root Beer Schnapps. My friend and I mixed them together in a big cup and swilled them down. Then we fell asleep.
As you might imagine, the combination of various schnapps and a ninety-pound sixth grader didn’t mix particularly well. It wasn’t long before I woke up vomiting all over the basement couch. It was a particularly nasty smell as the mix of beef-a-roni and flammable root beer alcohol filled the air. My friend panicked and ran to get my parents.

When my mom came to clean up the mess, she did not seem to notice anything was amiss. “It must have been bad beef-a-roni.” I told her as I stumbled up the stairs to my bed.

The next morning, I had a bitty-league softball game. When I got up, my parents deemed me healthy enough to attend. I didn’t mention my nausea and my splitting headache. In retrospect, I wonder if they suspected we had been drinking because they served particularly runny eggs. Maybe they were trying to punish me by making my hangover worse.

That was the beginning of a series of bad choices that went unnoticed or unacknowledged by my parents until I left for college. Did they really not notice the occasional binge drinking? The saying I was at the library when I was really ~~sleeping with~~ hanging out with a skateboarder boy? The sneaking off to the nearest big city to hang out in college bars? There were a million instances where I was convinced I had outsmarted them.
If my children happen to read this in their adolescent years, I want to take this time to assure them: I will notice. And there *will* be consequences.

While I don’t think there is anything necessarily wrong with experimentation and sneaking around (isn’t that the job of teenagers?), there will be consequences. Or at the very least an acknowledgment of their dumb choices.
Why? Because *my* children will not labor under the illusion that their parents are too dumb to figure out what they are doing.

To this day, I don’t know if my parents really were too oblivious to figure out what was going on, or if they just chose to ignore it.

Jitters and Shakes

2008-07-29T15:09:21Z

Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

I swear, I never learn.

This winter I managed to successfully wean myself off caffeine because it wrecks my sleep no matter when I drink it. (I sincerely believe I have this gene mutation .) Now, I only drink decaf coffee or caffeine free soda. Unless there is a lack-of-sleep emergency, that is.

Last night, L was a sleep trainwreck. She woke me up maybe four or five times (which is completely unacceptable for a 2.3 year old IMO).

This morning, I was very very tired, so I made myself a big cup of half-caf coffee. HALF CAF. That shouldn’t be a big deal, right?

So not 30 minutes later, I noticed I was feeling extremely anxious and shakey. For no good reason, I am a giant barrel of anxiety. And then I remembered the damn coffee.

Stupid coffee.

Now I am going to have to wait two hours for these damn jitters to wear off.
—————————————————————————

On to other things, I could use some suggestions. M’s favorite books are the Junie B. Jones series. For a long time, we would read them together, one chapter per night. Now, all the sudden, she doesn’t have the patience to wait for that and has been reading them on her own. Yesterday, she sat down for about an hour and a half and read three of them in a row.

She has read all but maybe 6 or 7 of them now. I need to come up with another series of books to keep her busy. She has already read all the Ramona books, but she isn’t quite ready to read at the Little House on the Prairie level of difficulty yet.

I also hope to keep her reading age-appropriate subject matter. For example, I think she could probably read the Babysitters’ Club books level of difficulty, but she probably wouldn’t be interested in the pre-teen subject matter. She is also adamantly opposed to anything remotely scary, so Harry Potter is not possible yet (plus, I think it is still to complex for her to understand the storyline.)
Any suggestions?

One down, 29 to go

2008-07-28T00:49:08Z

Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

Today, I finally managed to scratch one item off my list of 30 Things to Do Before I Die.

Only 8 years of watching them be eaten by others at dim sum, I finally tried chicken feet. I was at dim sum with two friends today for lunch and I said I would give them a try. I thought it would be no problem until they were on the table in front of me.

I am not usually a squeamish eater. I have eaten frog, snails, intestines, stomach, rabbit, 1000 year old egg, and food served by dozens of dubious-looking street vendors without flinching. None of those were nearly the challenge of the chicken foot.

Once it was on my plate, I couldn’t get past the nubs where the claws used to be. Every time I looked at that part, I felt a little woozy. But if I didn’t do it today, odds were I was never going to do it. So I hiked up my sleeves, drew my chopsticks and took a nibble off a chicken knuckle.

It wasn’t terrible. Mostly slightly greasy skin, but my teeth bumped up against cartilege or a joint or something and that was the end of that. I could go no further.

But the nibble was enough to mark it off the list.

Now, I don’t ever have to feel obligated to do that again.

wordpress password help

2008-07-25T00:49:37Z

Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

Is there anyone out there who may know how to fix my computer problem? When I read other people’s password protected posts in wordpress, I can’t access the post even though I enter the correct password. It just gives me a blank page.

Any ideas? It is really, really annoying.

Edited to add: I also tried to login with foxfire and the same damn thing happened, so it must be my computer, right?

Also, the blank page is giving me the address of blogpage/wp-pass.php WTFityFF!?!

Problem solved, but I am going to leave this here for internet posterity. My computer had TWO firewalls running at the same time and this was causing a problem. Once I turned the Computer Associates Personal Firewall off, passwords started working again. yay!

Do Gooder

2008-07-24T04:02:48Z

Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

Once upon a time, Mr. A’s job bothered me. I mean, I am a FEMINIST. A LIBERAL. And here I am, living off the profits Mr. A earned by representing corporations who kill puppies and destroy the ozone layer for fun.

Just kidding, I actually don’t know what companies he represent actually allegedly did or did not do.

I don’t know, because when Mr. A starts talking about work, my brain gets cloudy and I hum a nice “la la la la la” song in my head while trying to look interested until he gets it out of his system. I learned this technique when M started telling me ridiculously boring stories about dragons, imaginary friends and super heros. It works equally well with both of them.

Anyway, what I was trying to say is that I used to be more bothered by Mr. A’s clients until I got used to living off his income and not needing to work myself. The ethical stuff doesn’t bother me much at all anymore, now I just wonder why they aren’t paying him more. Ahem.

Recently, though, Mr. A got assigned to a case that is clearly on the good guys’ side. For the sake of lawyer-client-lawyer’s wife confidentiality, we will just call that client “Benevolent Corp.” I like Benevolent Corp. I think they are very interesting and cool, so I gave Mr. A a big thumbs up when he told me about the case.

I think Mr. A is trying to leverage this rare opportunity of wife job-approval. His is name dropping Benevolent Corp. all over the place.

“I was really busy at work today, the Benevolent Corp. case is taking a lot of my time.” he said.

And: “I was researching blah blah blah for Benevolent Corp….”

And “Today I was talking to XYZ person about Benevolent Corp…”

“I have to work late tonight — it is the Benevolent Corp. case!” he said, knowing full well I wouldn’t begrudge the extra time for Benevolent Corp.

I am starting to think I am lucky he doesn’t work in public interest law all the time. If it was his career I may actually have to be interested in his job, rather than just pretending to listen. We would probably be a lot poorer if he did that kind of work too.

Hopefully, he will get this bit of do-gooder-ness out of his system before it becomes a lifestyle choice. Everything in moderation, right?

5 Questions

2008-07-23T03:05:44Z

Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

I saw this over at Dawn’s and it dovetails with some questions I have received lately (here and IRL)about whether or not I will be closing up shop and why I blog.

1.) Why did you start a blog?

I think I started blogging because I was very lonely. We were living in a new city and had few friends here. If that wasn’t enough, I was the very first person among all our friends to get pregnant and have a baby. There was no one who could share the suck that is learning to be a parent. It was a really hard time.

2.) Why do you continue to blog?

I love my blog. I love the friends I have met here (both IRL and online). I like getting feedback on things I am thinking through. I like going back to see what the hell I was thinking in the past (even though it is often embarrassing). I like it when people think I am funny. I like having a place to vent. I like meeting new people. I like opening my email and seeing new comments. I like knowing that someone will stumble on this blog and know they aren’t crazy or they aren’t the only one who ever felt how they feel right now. I like helping people battle the scourge that is yucca plants. Basically, I blog because I like it and the pros far outweigh the cons. If it wasn’t enjoyable any more, I would stop. Right now, blogging makes my little world better.

3.) Do you have a blogmother/blogfather?

My interest in internet communities started with the old Hipmama and Mamatron boards, but I rarely participated there. I read blogs for maybe a year or so before I started blogging. Dawn was one of the first blogs I read when I still lived in San Francisco and now we are real-life friends. Most of the others I originally read are now long gone.

4.) Any downsides to blogging?

Well, there was this incident. That sucked. There is also the double-edged sword of blog-drama. It can be fun for a while, but then it just feels yucky. I have always been someone who has the unfortunate tendency to take things a step or two too far then regret it later and blog drama certainly feeds that impulsivity. I think I have managed to stay out of the fray for quite a while now. Trolls used to bother me, but now they really don’t. I moderate commenters who are just trying to be assholes, so that helps. It also used to freak me out when I would meet people for the first time and they already know all about me because they read my blog. Now I am used to it, so it rarely bothers me any more.

5.) Do your ‘real world’ friends know you blog?

I used to keep it a secret, but I ended up with so many friends that I met online the two worlds began to overlap. Right now, pretty much everyone knows about my blog except some relatives who are rarely online (though I suspect my sister will eventually find this — Hi there! Please don’t mention this to Mom and Dad! You know they would not approve!). Most of my friends know where they can find my blog if they want to. I don’t link my name to the blog to protect my future job prospects (HA!) and to keep a tiny shred of anonimity for Mr. A and the girls.

forgotten items.

2008-07-21T01:12:16Z

Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

Items I forgot to add to vacation by the numbers:

2.5 - hours of precious internet connectivity (wireless at the beach was VERY spotty) I wasted surfing the Jon & Kate plus 8 controversy websites. Who knew that Aunt Jodi had been wronged and her sister was blogging in her defense? Seriously, that is 2.5 hours I will never get back.

9 - number of comments/looks that confirmed my mother’s dislike of people sharing all their personal dirt on the internet (when I was discussing the JK+8 shenannigans with my sister). Ahem. Glad she doesn’t know about this here blog, eh?

3 - number of people who could not refrain from commenting/staring at L in Charleston. The first time, it was annoying. The second time, I was visibly agitated by the gushing old lady. By the third time, when a woman pointed rudely and called her very uninterested son’s attention to L at the aquarium and said “Look, Brendan! Look at that baby girl! Doesn’t she just look like a little doll! She is just like a little china doll! Just look at her! Look at her!” As if L was a fucking display like the fish. Just as I was beginning to stomp over to tell her she was being rude when I saw my mom obliviously walking in my general direction. My mom is NEVER someone who approves of a scene, no matter how justified. So I stifled my rant and just moved to block the moron’s view of L. These kind of interactions rarely happen at home, so I am wondering if my fine-tuned keep-away, what-do-you-think-you-are-doing-don’t-you-know-staring-is-rude and don’t-bother-my-kids vibe is only effective with a Midwestern audience.

16.25 - dollars earned by M on our trip. The first day, I gave her 40 quarters. Every time she whined, complained, threw a fit, or misbehaved, she had to give us a quarter. I thought for sure she would come home broke, so I also gave her an additional 5 quarters every day. It worked like magic. The most quarters she lost in a single day was 3 and that was on the trip home when she was suffering from a bout of low blood sugar. I also gave her 6 post-its to use when she wanted to ask “How much longer until we get there?” Every time she asked, she had to give up a post-it. After all the post-its were gone, she had to start paying a quarter each time she asked. She only used 4 on the way to the beach and 2 on the way home. For each post-it she didn’t use, she got another quarter. Money was a good motivator for M, that is for sure. A trip without whining was worth every single penny we spent.

Vacation by the Numbers

2008-07-19T02:31:37Z

Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

750- Miles. Distance from our house to Seabrook Island.

5 - West Virginia style hotdogs at this restaurant. Big thumbs up. Difficult to find from the highway though.

2 - Nights in a town we dubbed “Asia of the South” while visiting a friend in North Carolina. Seriously, all the signage in my friend’s apt complex was also in Korean. Who knew?

3 - Days with my parents before Mr. A and I got extremely irritated.

0 - Arguments and confrontations about the irritation. (Also, church discussion avoided.)

47 - Games played. Wii tennis, Apples to Apples and Risk, mostly.

57 - Dollars. Expensive rainy day visit to the Aquarium.

2 - Snails eaten by me. Mr. A and I had dinner out at a nice restaurant. Not fancy in appearance, but excellent food –though I could live without ever eating snails again. (The first 4 chews of the snail were good. The rest of the chews tasted exactly the way you would imagine snails would taste. Ugh.)

103 - Dollars. Cost of dinner and drinks at the fancy restaurant.

500 - Dollars. Approximate total amount of money we spent on the entire week-long trip. Thanks for financing the condo and the groceries Mom and Dad!

13 - Hours we will spend in the car tomorrow. Fun. Fun. Fun.

Creepy Crawlies (aka the south is not my friend)

2008-07-16T13:43:16Z

Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

We seem to be facing a low-grade biblical style pestilence so far on vacation:

1.) L stepped on what we think is a hornet’s nest, was swarmed by about 30 insects and acquired two stings. (Granted, this could happen anywhere, but it started us off on the wrong foot where creepy crawly things are concerned.)

2.) The chi-chi private-ish island where we are staying seems to be infested with spiders as big as M’s hand. These things spin webs the size of a small house. Seriously, that is about enough to keep me inside for the entire week. That is, if I could be confident that they are not able to get into the house. As of right now, I am not at all confident of that fact.

3.) I saw a cockroach the size of my thumb in the very fancy and clean condo kitchen. Between the spiders and the roach, every time I enter a new room, as a precaution, I turn on the lights, stomp my feet a few times, and examine all the baseboards and corners of the room.

4.) Mr. A got stung by a jelly fish. And yes, he did pee on it. Twice. Actually, he peed into his cupped hand and splashed it on his leg. Fortunately, we were near the beach club locker room so I didn’t actually have to watch this spectacle. My niece also apparently brushed up against a jelly fish, but my sister would not allow anyone to pee on her. She also rejected my offer of rubbing L’s pee diaper on little G’s leg. G recovered despite her urine-free status a few minutes and one juicebox later. Oh, and by the way, Mr. A claims the pee stopped the pain immediately. (I didn’t tell him that Dr. Google claims it is not effective.)

Must Read Book

2008-07-13T00:37:57Z

Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

I had done a lot of research before our adoption and I felt I was as prepared as I could be. The focus of most of my research was on post-institutionalized kids and/or attachment. While it was a gradual process and didn’t happen overnight, I felt that L was attaching very well and in a healthy way. I watched her like a hawk initially and even now, I periodically watch her critically to make sure she isn’t demonstrating any attachment issues.

While I was very sure that L showed good signs of attachment, there were little things that would niggle at the back of my brain. I have seen certain behaviors and reactions from her that were unusual, very intensely when we first met and less often but still occasionally now. But they weren’t attachment and I didn’t have any other framework to use to identify them. But I knew it was *something*.

Recently, I read Trauma Through a Child’s Eyes. As I was reading, I started recognizing L and her behavior in the descriptions of trauma and traumatized children. It was as if all the puzzle pieces finally fit together. Since we met L, I have said she was traumatized by losing her ayis and her home. I would refer to “trauma” in kind of a flippant way, but it turns out I was more right than I knew.

I turned the pages with tears rolling down my cheeks because I could see that I wasn’t crazy. I had see proof that my baby is a tough little survivor who was reacting in a completely normal way to a shitty situation (being handed to complete strangers with no warning). I had a vocabulary for her behaviors: the disassociation, the terror, the reliving the trauma in similar situations. It all made sense.

Despite all my research, I had only read brief references to trauma and L paid the price of my ignorance. While she would probably have been traumatized by her handover no matter what we did (due to China’s crappy system of not allowing pre-placement visits), we could have avoided re-traumatizing her if I knew then what I know now.

This book is a starting place for me to figure out the next steps in helping L get past the trauma she experienced. There are concrete suggestions. While her symptoms are rather minor now, if they flare up again in the future, I know the kind of therapist I will need to find when she is older. I know how to describe what is going on.

Maybe it doesn’t happen to every kid, but it happened to mine. I really believe this book should be on ever pre-adoption reading list for people adopting toddlers or older kids.

Water Torture*

2008-07-09T22:42:38Z

Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

Today, the girls are trying to kill me, one tiny complaint at a time.

If it is possible to actually be whined to death, I am knocking on death’s door. Or wait, maybe I am already dead and this is a particularly sadistic version of Hell?

I am barricaded in the office right now and I am actually contemplating putting in ear plugs so I can’t hear them whining to Mr. A.

Bedtime can not come soon enough.

*Actually, I was going to title this Chinese Water Torture, but then I realized I don’t have the energy to argue with someone who may be offended by it. But, yo. For the record, they are both Chinese and they are torturing me.

Getting Local

2008-07-08T02:46:08Z

Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

Lately, I have been kicking around the idea of working part-time once L is in elementary school. While I don’t like to work, the one thing I like to do most (traveling) happens to cost a heck of a lot of money.

I have come to terms with the fact that Mr. A’s job is never going to allow the two of us to travel the way I want to. I want to see too many places that are too far away for one week trips. If I have to wait for Mr. A to accompany me, I will never get to go anywhere.

Since I am not one to live with regrets, I have decided I need to take matters into my own hands. It also seems a tad unfair to use such a huge chunk of ~~Mr. A’s~~ the family’s money to finance my own personal agenda.

My current thought is that I could work part-time and set aside my income to take the girls traveling for 4-6 weeks each summer. Mr. A could join us for the last 10 days or so of each trip. I also have a couple of younger cousins who may be able to accompany me to add an extra pair of hands (if I can afford to pay for their expenses). The tentative China-Taiwan trip of 2011 will be our test trip. By then the girls will be 5 and 8.

For me, there is a huge difference between a “trip” and a “vacation”. The long trips would hopefully be in addition to our normal family vacations. Last night, Mr. A asked where I would like to go on vacation in the US in the future. Besides visiting Hawaii again, I couldn’t think of a single place I really want to go in the states. I like to travel to experience a different culture. While there are cultural variations in the US, it isn’t the same as traveling overseas.

Mr. A is someone who likes to travel to see scenery. He can’t wait to go look at the Grand Canyon with the girls. I am already bracing myself for that trip some day far in our future. I have no doubt I will be so bored I might actually claw my eyes out for fun.

I have already seen the Grand Canyon when I flew over it in a plane. Yup, there it was. A big hole. I don’t really have any desire to see it again. Never mind seeing it while on the back of a very uncomfortable donkey or scary helicopter or whatever cockamamie idea Mr. A will no doubt come up with. This is the man who thought riding a bike from the California coast the the Florida coast was FUN. Honestly, two months on a bike, sleeping on the ground sounds like hell on Earth for me.

So anyway, until I can get to my bigger trips, I am trying to make the best of being around here. I just spent over an hour trying to locate a suitable regional restaurant along our drive to the beach. Who knew that West Virginia is known for their hot dogs? I didn’t. But when we are on vacation, I am going to try one. I’ll let you know if it is worth the drive.

Comment Reply

2008-07-03T05:02:29Z

Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

Have I mentioned that I love getting comments? I do. I love, love, love them. And you would think I would try to do a better job of answering them so people would be encouraged to write more. As hard as it may be to believe it, I am actually pretty shy. My palms get sweaty when I email people I don’t know. I read and re-read my emails wondering if I sound like a dummy. If I write to someone and they don’t write back, then I wonder if they thought I am more of a loser via email than I am on the blog. Oh, the email anxiety! (And now I am worrying that this entire paragraph may actually be TMI, but on we go anyway.)

There are other times that comments make me think of another whole post I could write. Like this comment by Michelle from my recent post about my mom wanting to take M to church.

Shouldn’t it be M’s decision? What wrong could come out of going to church a few hours per week? However, only good things could come out. If you are an atheist, it does not mean that your daughter has to be the same. Would you be angry with your daughters if one day they decide that they are Christians?

I think you’re projecting your own atheist mentality onto them without not seeing both sides of the story. What you believe now might not be what you will believe later, and certainly might not be what your children will believe.

This comment left me scratching my head. I mean, M is only FIVE years old. I make decisions for her all day long. Why should church be any different?

When M and L are old enough to make their own decisions, they will be free to go to church or temple or whatever they choose. Heck, I will even let them be Republicans if it floats their boat. But I am not going to send them to Young Republican camp just in case they may have those beliefs later.

Childhood is the time where their father and I will have the opportunity to share OUR values and OUR beliefs with them. It is our perogative as their parents.

My mom RARELY took my sister and me to church. She missed her chance to share her beliefs with me. She doesn’t get a do-over with my kids as a way of trying to fix her mistake. This isn’t to say she can’t share her beliefs with our kids. She can. She can talk to them about it as much as she wants, as long as she is respectful of Mr. A and my beliefs.

But we will not allow her to take our kids to learn OTHER people’s beliefs without knowing what our children are being taught. I don’t know what the sunday school teachers teach there, or what the minister preaches. I don’t have the time or the inclination to go find out. Mr. A went to the Christmas play to see if he was comfortable with this specific church’s teachings. After that, he decided he *wasn’t* comfortable with the girls going there. I won’t send them to a church that may (or may not) tell them their parents and family members and friends are going to hell. I am not willing to spend my sundays policing the messages that the girls receive from strangers.

What wrong could come out of M going to church a few hours a week? Well, *I* used to go to church every week with my grandparents. And one week, the minister’s wife took it upon herself to show my 9 year-old self pictures of aborted fetuses and told us how abortion doctors would go to hell and how abortion is murder.

These statements were totally against this denomination’s official stance on abortion. I also do not think they were statements that my parents would have supported. But my parents weren’t at church, so I didn’t know how they felt about what I was learning there.

I was horrified and had nightmares for years after that day. I was strongly against abortion based on that one conversation.

Until I grew up, started thinking for myself and decided that woman was a jerk who was taking advantage of impressionable little kids. I also decided I didn’t believe in a God who was not compassionate for women and families in crisis*.

And I got a job at an abortion clinic. I am very proud of that choice.

Funny how things work out, isn’t it?

Will I be angry if my children grow up and choose to be Christians? Of course not. My husband is Christian. I have lots of Christian friends. Most of my extended family is Christian. I like most of them. Heck, I even worked in Christian churches in my last job and I have tons of respect for the people I met and they work they do.

I will not be angry if my children grow up and choose to be Christian, but I will be greatly disappointed if my children grow up and don’t feel compassion for people in difficult circumstances. I will be sad if they can’t love and accept people who are different from them. I will be sad if they don’t grow up to be kind and loving with open hearts.

Could they learn these things in church? Maybe. Hopefully. But the wouldn’t learn it in every church.

They hope they will learn it from me. If that is what my “mentality” teaches them, I will die a proud and happy mother.

*And does that mean I don’t believe in God? No. That athiest label was not mine. I only said I wasn’t a Christian.

odds and ends

2008-07-02T03:44:03Z

Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

In no particular order, things that have been happening around here lately:

-We gave L the boot from our bedroom. Yesterday morning, she woke me up 57 too many times after I had gone to bed very, very late. I had begun to suspect that my proximity to her (her twin bed pushed up against my side of our bed) was actually encouraging her to wake up rather than sleep through the night. Actually, it may have been more than my personal proximity. It may have been that our bed is much much more comfortable because it has a tempurpedic mattress pad and her bed is hecka uncomfortable. As a result, she was constantly stealing my spot and leaving me to sleep in the twin. As of yesterday, we moved her twin into M’s room (now known as M’s old room, L and M’s new room, or as I said repeatedly yesterday and today: the room with TWO! BIG! GIRL! BEDS! YAY!!! CLAP!! CLAP!!) So far, so good. Who knows, maybe one of these days I will even get to get lucky on my tempurpedic mattress instead of the fold-out couch. A girl can dream, cant’ she?

-I have concocted a new scheme that requires us to sell our house and live in a much crappier house for several years. On some level, I think I can not bear to live in this house now that it is all fixed up and ready to sell. My theory is we should sell, buy a new crappy house in the neighborhood (3 blocks over) we want to live in FOREVER, then when we have enough dough in 4-5 years, do a full-gut renovation and add an addition to double the size of the imaginary house. I have already had my hopes dashed on two different houses: one was already in contract, the other is apparently full of exposed asbestos. It would actually make the most sense to wait until spring to move forward with this plan, but I can’t stop ~~obsessively searching~~ browsing the MLS listing. I am aware this scheme is a bit wacky. I lived through my parents building a house when I was in high school. That was when I witnessed the biggest argument in the history of their entire relationship, which was about bathroom fixures. And seriously, do you think that my dad gave a rat’s ass about bathroom fixtures? Building/remodeling can make people crazy. You would think I would know better.

-Did I mention that we are going on vacation with my parents, sister and niece in a few weeks? Given the recent tensions over the church thing, this may be the perfect setting for a lovely knock-down drag out argument. It might end up being like high school all over again.

-Mr. A just walked in the door from work at 11:42 pm, so I am going to go visit with him for a few minutes before bed. They seriously do not pay him enough to work such insane hours.

A New American Family

Syndicated link

americanfamily @ 2008-08-14T09:16:00

Broken Feed thing

*sigh*

One World, One Dream

Shoppers Block

minutiae

talking about race at age 5

The Incident at the Playground (part 3)

The Incident at the Playground (Part 2)

The Incident at the Playground (part 1)

Story Prompt

Jitters and Shakes

One down, 29 to go

wordpress password help

Do Gooder

5 Questions

forgotten items.

Vacation by the Numbers

Creepy Crawlies (aka the south is not my friend)

Must Read Book

Water Torture*

Getting Local

Comment Reply

odds and ends

sigh