quotes

I love Jemma's individual way of looking at or describing things...

"Was God created to keep us company?"

"What if A was called D or Z?"

"I wish everything was edible. That way if we were walking down the street and I got hungry I could eat something."

When I was wearing make-up:
"Mommy, why do you look so beautiful today?"

While eating spicy noodle soup:
"If I take a really big bite sometimes it sours my neck all up, and I have to drink some water."


Her cousin Janie comes up with some good ones, too:

When asked why she didn't like bananas anymore (she used to like them) she responded,
"I broke up with them."

(She also broke up with broccoli.)

still waiting

It has been more than 6 weeks since our successful court hearing in Ethiopia. I officially have another daughter, but I can't bring her home until all of the paperwork and formalities are dealt with (by the Ethiopian government, and then by the US Embassy.) Initially, I had thought this final part of the process would take about a month - and that we'd have had our baby home with us by now... but I have been reminded by our contact at the adoption agency that the time-line is unpredictable (and has been A LOT slower lately.) This has not stopped me from calling them frequently for updates... (and checking my e-mail and voice-mail compulsively.)

My husband, noticing that I was going bananas, convinced me to take Jem out of school and spend a week in Florida - where the rest of my family is enjoying spring break... So that's where I've been. And it did help. But now I'm back... and still waiting.

I've been advised not to expect anything for awhile... I'm beginning to feel like our new daughter will be college-age before we get to bring her home - but fretting about it doesn't change anything.

I need to remind myself that I have nothing to complain about. This is just an opportunity to (continue to) practice patience.

tipsy parson

I've never really been comfortable with the concept of 'brunch'. It's basically breakfast food for lazy rats who sleep in until lunchtime. And I've always thought of 'Sunday brunch' as especially bad, since it involves skipping out on church as well as being a lazy rat...

But recently I had an especially delicious brunch - we could just call it lunch - at the Tipsy Parson in the West Village. It was DELICIOUS! (And, yes, that was intended to be in all caps.)

Everything I tried was great. Especially the sticky bun, the butter biscuit, and the cheese grits... Hmmm... I wouldn't mind having brunch right now.

http://www.tipsyparson.com/

irish, baby

May those that love us, love us.
And those that don't love us,
May God turn their hearts.
And if He doesn't turn their hearts,
May He turn their ankles
So we will know them by their limping.

the fountain of youth

A couple of days ago I stopped by Sephora to pick up some mascara. I wasn't wearing make-up at the time, and it occurred to me that perhaps I was the only woman to have ever set foot in that store not wearing make-up...

But armed with war-paint or not, we were all fighting the same battle - all there for the same reason. We were on a mission: to find something that would make us beautiful, desirable, and if at all possible ageless. I don't know whether it's the result of some innate insecurity or the fault of the fashion industry, but most women feel inadequate. And it only gets worse as we get older. I remember feeling a vague panic when construction workers on the side of the road stopped eyeing me admiringly sometime after I hit 40...

Perusing the aisles I felt the the familiar tug of consumerism begin to itch the back of my brain. The hint of anxiety as I caught the gaze of the flawless faces in the advertisements. A whiff of hope as I read the carefully worded promises of anti-wrinkle creams...

I got my mascara and left. And suddenly I was amused by a thought. There's only one thing you have to do to look young:

Be 20.

chicken-bock

I remember when I was growing up it would drive my mom crazy when my siblings and I would start talking like our friends - using not only their phrases, but also their speech patterns and inflections. It seems harmless enough... until it's your kid who's talking to you in someone else's voice.

Recently Jemma has started bringing some of her friends' way of talking home with her. And unfortunately this way of talking has an accompanying attitude... There's a way they have of speaking that's an especially maddening nasal, drawn out, sing-song that is invariably rude. When Jemma does it I'm tempted to mimic her to show her how bad it sounds.

But that's not very effective (and not nice.) And I wanted to make her part of the solution. I figured we needed a shorthand reference for this new habit that was driving me bananas, so I asked her, "What can we call it when you talk like that - so you'll know what I mean without me imitating it?"

She thought for a minute and then responded, "chicken-bock."

Since then, we've referred to it that way - and miraculously, by giving it a name, we've been able to stop the rudeness.

Apparently it works both ways...

The other night, when I was frustrated, I told Jemma to 'go to bed' in a stronger tone than I would have mindfully used, and she turned to me and said gently, "Mommy, you're using 'chicken-bock'."

random e-mail

I just got the following e-mail message from my husband:

Apropos of nothing: we're never going to Cuba (see below).

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cuban_Solenodon

(e)

s


He hates rats (which is highly amusing to Jemma and me - we think they're kinda cute) and why he was researching this particular breed is beyond me...

better late than...

Admittedly, I'm someone who catches onto trends relatively late (I started watching 'Friends' after they were already in re-runs - and apparently everyone on the planet has already seen the cat video from my previous post). But there are some things I don't want find out about too late...

Regarding health, there's often a major delay between when we're told certain things are 'safe' and the time that those very things are proven to be harmful (and sometimes fatal). So I take it with a grain of salt whenever I'm told not to worry about how something may or may not affect me.





More and more information is coming to light about ways we unknowingly contribute to our own ill health through regular exposure to things we've become so accustomed to we think we couldn't live without.

Here's a link if you'd like to find out a little about electromagnetic exposure.

And don't even get me started about genetically modified foods... Not to be paranoid, but I just don't believe people who, in the face of data to the contrary, try to tell me that something's 'safe'. Especially if they're making (A LOT) of money by selling that thing. Not interested in being a guinea pig in the 'before they knew' scenario, thank you very much.

ridiculous

My sister showed me a few silly clips on youtube yesterday, and I thought I'd share them...

backtracking

When I was in Ethiopia I realized that many things that we consider to be basic are, in fact, luxuries. Like food preferences.

Having newly adopted several vegan practices, I experienced an awkward moment when offered breakfast at the guest house where I was staying. Now, I was in no danger of going hungry - I could have just eaten an energy -bar from my purse. But in a country where so many are malnourished and starving, it seemed ungrateful, somehow. The bottom line is I don't have aesthetic or moral problems with consuming eggs or dairy - I'm just abstaining because I object to how these products are acquired - and that's mostly relevant in our country where people are so hell-bent on making an extra buck (or million or billion) that they're willing to make another creature suffer to get what they want.

So I ate the eggs I was served... and was grateful for them.

I guess it turns out I'm not really a vegan (even though I've still got almond milk and soy cheese in my fridge.)

I do care about animals. But for me it's not just about animals. I want to live consciously - and to make my choices - each of them - mindfully, and with respect, compassion, and gratitude.

plane advice

While on a recent plane ride with lots of unhappy babies, I was reminded of something that I probably should have posted a long time ago. This is perhaps the useful advice I could possibly offer to people who travel (by air) with small children...

Take along a syringe (the kind that comes with nearly all infant medicines) and a bottle of spring water. While taking off and landing feed little droppers of water to your child every 10 - 20 seconds - like a baby bird. (I'd even do it with little kids - their ears are still really sensitive to pressure changes).

This may sound silly. Why not just feed them a bottle - or a cup of water/milk/juice?

The idea is to keep them swallowing. But if the kid's 'drinking' rather than 'sipping' they're getting too much volume in their bellies, so they'll be full before their ears have adjusted. If they're doing tiny sips they swallow many times without filling up, and they can keep doing it for the time necessary to deal with the pressure change. You'll be surprised how easy and painless air travel becomes when you start using that one simple trick.

Also, if your kid's crying at the top of his/her lungs don't be embarrassed and waste your energy worrying about what the fellow passengers are thinking. The more stressed you feel the less you'll be able to help calm your little one. I know it's hard when your baby's howling and it seems like all of the other grownups are giving you the stink-eye, but if you focus on solving the problem the child's having rather than shushing them everyone will be happier quicker.