the dolphin

You may remember that my "the revelation" post ended with a "to be continued". I ended it that way so it could be a built-in accountability for me to do something about my revelation. Shortly after writing that post, josh and I spent some time thinking about the situation, and we decided that we'd make a point every weekend to go out to some public place to do something. Just to be around people. Perhaps someone might come across our path that was sent by Someone else.

Today was our first time. We decided to leave this morning to go to a shopping center across town that we had never been before. Upon arriving, we found it to be in a bustling part of the city, with a nice public square close by. We spent a nice chunk of time milling about the square, watching three year-olds take rollerblading classes, watching families out together, being out ourselves. We saw a vendor carrying a colorful bouquet of balloons for sale, so we moseyed over to him and let emma pick out a balloon.

You can see here that she picked out a dolphin. Actually, sometimes she would call him dolphin and sometimes she would call him whale. She really enjoyed having him as her traveling companion over the course of the morning. We finished milling about in the square, and then we went to check out a new supermarket in the vicinity.

As we pushed our way through the crowded aisles, we drew the normal level of attention - people ooohing and aahing at us, sometimes even squealing (if you suffer from self-esteem, just come visit us here and people will go crazy over you!). We browsed through the dry goods, past the baby food aisle...all the while, dolphin was still with us.

Then, somewhere along the dairy wall we noticed emma's gaze looking skyward. There rested her dolphin, up in the rafters of the grocery store. Oh dear. Emma looked at us with sad, earnest eyes.

"Dolphin! Help! Please!" she cried, while frantically doing her sign language at the same time. We were content just to let dolphin go - even though he was a fairly expensive diversion for her - until her urgent pleas for his rescue moved us to action.

Being the compassionate father that he is, Josh went looking for a store worker to explain our problem to. He finally found someone, dragged them over to the scene of the crime, they promised to go get something (we assumed a ladder?) then come back and help him, and then scurried off. Ten minutes later, they still had not returned. Finally, we see the girl returning - but emptyhanded. When she arrived at the dairy case, we realized she had brought not a ladder with her, but the tallest employee she could find. :) Nice thinking.

He tried to reach up and get it (sorry, dude) and realized that wouldn't work. So then he promised to return in a moment. He did return, this time bringing some sort of hook-ish type pole thing and another pole thing to serve as another grabber-type thing. We - and about twenty other curious shoppers - stood by and watched him stretch and reach and try to successfully "hook" dolphin from the rafters for about 10 minutes, until finally dolphin was rescued. I've never seem Emma so happy.


In other news...

the weather the last few days has been really cold, so when we've gone out, we've really had to bundle up our girls. Cold weather clothes make such cute pictures! :) Here's samantha staying warm in our little snugli with her warm winter hat! Fortunately, today was a bit warmer and the next few days should be nice as well.

And here's one more of a sweet moment between mantha and her daddy...

Am I bragging if...?

Am I bragging if I devote an entire post to the cute and funny things my children are doing? They have been so adorable lately (mischevious, of course...but also adorable!) and I guess I want to record some of the highlights for my own benefit, as well as yours!

Here begins my happy highlight list from the last few days:

* Yesterday at lunch, Emma counted to 10 all by herself! We like to spend time counting, but she would usually just repeat 9, 10, 9, 10 over and over again. Maybe it has something to with "Nine, ten...do it all again!" or something. But anyhow, at the table, I said, "Emma, let's count for daddy!" and she busted it out all on her own. We didn't even prompt her. Has she done it since? Well...no, but what does that matter? She's moving on to bigger and better things! :)

* We have also been playing a little game with her called "colors". Ok, ok, it's not the most imaginative title (you can tell it was us, not milton bradley who invented it) but she really loves it. She has these index cards with colors and shapes on them and we lay them on the couch. She rounds up her "dora, dora" purse and we yell out a color for her to go and get. She runs, feet pitter-pattering on our squeaky wood floors, until she finds the requested color. She then clumsily shoves it into her dora purse of treasures. Of course, I think my child is brilliant, but actually she knows several of the colors quite well. Blue, brown, black and green she can identify immediately and without error. But, when we get to purple, pink, red, orange, yellow, and white, well...they become brown, black, green and blue. But four is better than none, dont' you think?



* In the bath tonight, Emma stood straight up and put her hands on the side of the bathtub. Whatever possessed her to do what came next, I have no idea. A huge smile crossed her face, she lifted one leg up into the air as high as she possibly could and shouted, "Careeeeeeeeful!" She certainly doesn't get that from her mother!

* At dinner tonight, Josh let out a belch. ( I wish I could say this behavior is unusual, but unfortunately...well, anyway) Without missing a beat, Emma piped up with a gentle reminder to her daddy: "Cuse me!"

* The last few days I have been quite engrossed in a novel that a "friend" lent me. (The only reason "friend" was in quotation marks was because she knew it was a very gripping story, and lent it to me anyway completely knowing I would be useless for any of the days I read it! Instead of doing the dishes, I opted for the next chapter. Instead of rising early to take a shower, I sleep in because I'm so tired from staying up late reading the novel. This also explains why my blog has not been updated in a few days.) Emma was sitting on the bed with me this evening as I fed samantha, and she noticed the book. Taking in its considerable thickness, she looked at me and said with sincere certainty: "mommy's bible."

Oh, emma...thank you for thinking the best of me! Perhaps next time, it will truly be mommy's bible!

Samantha's turn now:

* Samantha in the last few days has started really reaching for things. The most meaningful thing that has been caught within her grasp lately is mommy and daddy's faces. I remembered when Emma used to reach up and touch our face, and now that samantha is doing it, I feel so happy inside!

* Samantha loves to stand on her two legs, as you can see! (that is, of course, when Emma doesn't butt in to be the center of attention!)

* Samantha's terribly dry skin is improving, but only a little bit. We've heard that the driest weather is still yet to come, so we shall see how her little skins hold up!

* We're not putting Samantha on a diet or anything, but this week she has gone from six feedings down to five. The great thing about it is that at 8:00pm when Emma goes down for the night, I give mantha her last feeding and by about 8:30, my child obligations are over! (well, at least until morning...) I've really enjoyed this new routine! :)

Well, it seems again that blogger is unwilling for me to post my pictures, so check back to this post in a few days. I've got really cute ones in store for you!

Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star...

While I was shopping a few weeks ago, I came across a package of glow-in-the-dark stars and moons. I thought Emma would think it would be really fun, since she loves looking at the stars and moon when we are out at night.

I decided tonight was a good night for a special surprise. While she was reading books with daddy in the living room, I snuck into her room, balanced precipitously upon a shaky blue chair and affixed the multi-colored stars and moons to her ceiling and wall.

"Ta-da!" I happily announced. I went to the living room to show emma my work of art. (I must say, they were hung rather well.)

Truly, she loved the stars. They made a great distraction during diaper changes, and we sang "twinkle, twinkle" till I was convinced I could sing it no longer.

Then bedtime came.

Brush teeth...say prayers...big family hug...tuck in...don't forget blanket...and minnie (thanks, kim!)...or puppy...or bear...and finally, ah, close the door.

Within nanoseconds after the door was shut, something broke loose from emma's room. Shrieks, screams, tears...it must have been awful.

I went in to console her, give her some hugs, and tuck her back in. We looked up at stars together. We sang (what else?) twinkle, twinkle again. And back to bed she went.

More screams. What could be wrong with her?

This time, she got a spanking. (We have a "no crying, no whining, no fussing" rule at bedtime, remember?) More hugs, more kisses, and back to bed.

When she started screaming for the third time, Josh enlightened me. Perhaps, he thought, glow-in-the-dark stars are really fun for a four year old (like the box recommends) but are just a bit too much of a paradigm shift for a one and a half year old.

I asked emma, "do you want the stars?"

"ok. bye-bye, stars."

I took that as my cue.

So, the carefully affixed stars were taken down just hours after they were put up.

No stars twinkling in this house!

the revelation

The other day I had quite a revelation.

Generally speaking, our family avoids going out on the weekend. Any place that might normally be tempting to visit loses all its appeal on the weekends. Weekends are when the masses get off of work and come in droves to any place that is remotely appealing - pizza hut, the parks, playgrounds, the supermarket. Granted, that is also usually the case in america, but we're talking about things on a much different scale out here.

That being the case, we plan to stay inside on the weekends. We'll plan Pizza Hut for random Wednesday nights or do our grocery shopping at 1:30 in the afternoon. But, the other day it was unavoidable.

My landlord and I went out on a Saturday to do some shopping for a few household items. After we made our purchases, she wanted to take me out to lunch to this steak-house typish place. (*Note: this is not an actual steak place, just a asian-ese steak place, very loosely based on US steak places!) Being a saturday, it was indeed crowded. It was only her and I (and Samantha), so the 20 minute wait wasn't nearly as daunting as if Emma were there.

But when we sat down, I was so surprised at what I saw. I have felt for a long while that my heart really is for young families - people in the same place that I am in, but it has been so hard for me to find people like that. But as I looked around the random steak place, nearly every table had a small child with them.

It seems a bit incongruous that here we are, trying to "find" all these young families while avoiding those very few times when people have the opportunity to be out and about. When the people are out, I make a point to be in. When the people are in, I make a point to be out.

No wonder I don't have any friends.

To be continued...

the bedtime routine and other random thoughts

Emma used to be a girl who would go down for sleep quite easily - we usually laid her down, turned on her nightlight, and we didn't hear a peep from her until her 7am waking up call happily requesting her morning milk. Oh, how things have changed.

Now, she really lays the drama on thick at bedtime. She's started using stall-tactics (like, as we are walking out the door after tucking her in, she'll say "mommy?" and wait for my response, "yes, emma?" "whove you!" Yes, emma...I love you too, but it's time for bed!) But sometimes, she really cries and whines at bedtime. So josh started a little routine with her.

As he tucks her in, he very firmly tells her, "Emma, there's NO crying, NO whining, and NO fussing in bed, ok?"

She used to respond with a sweet little "ok."

But the other day as I was tucking her in, SHE initiated the routine.

"Mommy! Noooooooooo cryin! Noooooooooooo whinin! Noooooooooo fuffin! (short pause, while emma takes a moment to think) Fuffin! Muffin! Muffin? Wheeeeeeze!"

So from that point on, emma associated the bedtime routine with her favorite breakfast snack of muffins. Now I really can't put her to bed with a straight face. It's the funniest thing in the world!




In other news, we got back from our little retreat to the mountains. It was quite the adventure! Even the lazy people who choose to take the bus/cable car combo instead of climbing the 6650 steps (yes, that's six thousand steps still had to climb some steps - and josh turned out to be super-dad, carrying Emma a whole whole lot! So Josh carried emma on his shoulders while Samantha and I bundled up and kept each other warm in the snugli carrier and we climbed up and down this mountain that is a very signficant part of asian history...or so we are told.

Actually, we had a really great week - even though it was really hazy outside (we were up so high that those were, in fact, clouds that we were inside rather than the typical pollution you might expect from this country) it was still really nice. We especially enjoyed spending time with our friends after all the girls had gone to bed - with uninterrupted pryer and study times, and even having time to play scrabble and other games, we felt like real adults again!

And Samantha had a good time too, but she mostly had a good time playing on the couch after we arrived back at the hotel. During the mountain ascent, she pretty much slept the entire time. Right before we came back to this country, we bought a fleece cover for the front carrier thing, so she was warm and bundled up the whole time. I'd fall asleep too...

oops!

ok, so I'll try again posting samantha's 100 day pictures.

Just fyi...we are heading out of town for a few days to go on a little retreat thing, so (sigh...) no blog updates for a few days.

more later.

100 day pictures are here!

Samantha's Love Potion No.9

I remember when Emma was still a baby, there were quite a number of times where she would have unexplainable bouts of crying. We didn't know why she was crying, as it seemed that all her immediate needs were met. Nor did we know how to solve the crying. Chalk it up to experience, or maybe just samantha's personality, but it seems that Samantha has significantly fewer bouts of "random crying" than emma did.

But tonight was a random night, I guess. During the rush to get home from the grocery store and get dinner on the table, samantha let loose on us. First, we tried her current favorite - the bears on her playgym. Then we put her in a dark room and gave her the pacifier. Two approaches down and still 20 minutes into uninterrupted crying, I had no idea what to do. Josh went in and tried to comfort her. I went in and tried to comfort her.

As I held her, bouncing, singing and praying all simultaneously (mothers are great multi-taskers!) I leaned my head against the window in despair.

Samantha was hooked. Somehow, out of the corner of her eye while I leaned despairingly on the window, she saw the blur of cars, buses, bicycles and pedestrians all going to and fro on the busy street below. I think perhaps her vision is still too immature to see the objects distinctly, but she certainly saw the motion and was hooked.

We stood there for 10 minutes, until I finally decided I needed to finish getting dinner ready. The moment her back was to the window, she started howling again. I trudged back over to the window, and sweet silence once again permeated the house. It's official: Samantha's new favorite activity is people-watching outside the window.

Since this post is mostly about Samantha, I'll put up some pics of her that have been taken in the last few days.



You can see that we are starting to cultivate an early appetite for reading, but since she's so young, we thought "Fuzzy Bee" was ok to start with. Jane Austen can wait a while. She has alternating periods of intense seriousness and extreme delight with Fuzzy Bee, as you can tell.



Josh and I are amazed at how quickly she has grown; even though we vowed to ourselves to savor each day with her (and we really feel that we have!) we just can't seem to make the time stand still. Samantha is getting really good at sitting on the couch, surrounded by pillows, and has gotten lots of upper body strength. She's also a pretty happy "tummy-time" girl, though her sister at this age was not. Samantha really likes to be a part of whatever is going on, and we love having her be a part with us!



Emma is usually quite delighted to share her belongings with Samantha - this particular day, Samantha was the recipient of emma's most treasured things...her stuffed animals. Emma generously gave Samantha(or more accurately, threw in the general direction of samantha) bear, cheer bear, caterpillar, fish, lamb, puppy, zebra, another bear, puppy, and maybe even something else buried under the rubble. Samantha was a little overwhelmed by such a gracious display of generosity, and didn't seem to mind when Emma suddenly changed her mind and realized that all of her treasured possessions were not in their proper place.

Speaking of Emma, probably in a couple of weeks we will begin (???) potty training her. In the weeks leading up to the "big day", we've been encouraging her to be aware of her peepee and poopoo. She is really excited when she has her own peepee and poopoo to be proud of, and often runs toward us with feet pattering loudly. She'll throw herself on our laps and yell, "Check! Check! pee pee!" then we "check" to see if she has peepee and we all clap and say hooray.

Well, today emma decided that she should take a more nurturing approach to the aforementioned stuffed animals. She lined them all up on the couch - bear, puppy, giraffe, Samantha's elephant, caterpillar - and then brought them one by one to me.

"mommy, effant, check, peepee! yay, peepee!"

"mommy, puppy, check, peepee! yay, peepee!"

"mommy, caberdillar, check, peepee! yay, peepee!"

And so it went until all her animals had emptied themselves and been acknowledged. Let's just hope its that easy when it's her turn!

the joys of cooking?

I think cooking is all about your approach. Approach defines everything.

For example, for my friend Rachel (whose post on cooking was "oh, the joys of cooking!" - note the exclamation point, whereas my post shows a question mark...) cooking is an art form. Her spice racks are meticulously kept up and well-stocked. Her favorite pasttime is reading cookbooks. Her house always smells of something fresh from the oven. When her kids are sleeping, how will you find her spending her time? Making some yummy treat in the kitchen. Yes, for that Rachel, cooking is an art.

Then we get to this Rachel. For me, cooking is purely functional. I like to eat, so therefore I cook. I keep spices in my spice rack because I like to eat cookies and muffins (as evidenced by my yet-to-be-shrinking waistline). My mealtime planning consists of "hmmm...what is in the freezer that I could mix together in just a few minutes?" My favorite recipes are those that are labeled "quick and easy" or "mealtime in minutes" or "how to serve a delectable dinner with the leftovers in your fridge" or something along those lines. The smells coming from my kitchen are usually the evidences of my most recent cooking disaster. When my kids are sleeping, I'm usually...oh wait,my kids never sleep. Well, at least not at the same time.

But every so often, I forget this about myself. I forget that I have no business buying things like springform pans (to make light and fluffy cheesecakes). I forget that adding a "pinch of this" and a "dash of that" is for experienced chefs only and can be hazardous to a meal. Last Saturday was one of those forgetful days.

Spurred on by the fact that Emma loves bagels - and so sweetly asks "Gabelck...wheeeeeeze!" almost every morning (she got used to a breakfast of bagels in the States - and the supporting fact that josh also loves bagels and the final fact that Rachel so casually mentioned one day how she whipped up a batch of bagels like it was something she could do in her sleep, I began my first foray into bagelmaking.

Disaster upon disaster.

I guess I never realized all the trouble that Sara Lee and those dudes at Panera go through to get me that perfect chocolate-chip bagel. Yeah, it's a lot of work. Trust me.

The memory is hazy for me now (I tend to block out bad memories) but it had something to do with mixing some stuff together, letting it rise, mixing it again with some other stuff, rolling, shaping, boiling it (who knew bagels were boiled?) and baking...or something like that. Anyway, I cannot describe to you exactly what went wrong, but what came out of my oven that day were not bagels. I think I shall not try again.

So the reason I post this tonight is because I was on the verge of having another forgetful day. Zucchini Quiche was on the menu for tonight - but instead of being scared away, my friends at quick-and-easy meals said it was a cinch. Hmmmmm.

One problem with the recipe, however, is that it called for 2 cups of cottage cheese. Actually, I hate cottage cheese, but I think I like quiche (or at least I like the idea of quiche; it just sounds so parisian and chic) so I was willing to make an exception. BUT, you cannot get cottage cheese where I live.

Enter the vegetarians. Some very helpful and enthusiastic vegetarians online said that tofu substituted nicely for cottage cheese. I can get tofu. Lots and lots of tofu.

I crumbled up 2 cups of tofu and added it to my other ingredients: eggs, cheese (aaah, cheese...), zucchini, flour and salt...and in the oven it went.

One hour later, I cautiously served my family the tofu-zucchini quiche. My husband made a face. Emma threw hers on the floor and asked for grapes instead. We managed to eat almost the entire thing. Then we decided we'd probably not make that dish again.

I won't forget next time.

Crowd control?

A few days ago, we went with some friends to one of our city's "touristy" attractions - a nice lake in the middle of town. It actually was a really beautiful place, with nice trees and plants and such. We, however, went against our better judgement and violated one of our cardinal rules of life in asia: never go anywhere remotely touristy on a major holiday (a rule that applies well in America, too).

We were actually joining a group of asian friends that we had never met before, so that also contributed to the confusion. As we walked around the lake, we couldn't seem to differentiate who was in our party, and who was just following us, wishing they were in our party. We finally concluded that we were the party. The persistent onlookers armed with cameras made it feel like were Brad and Angelina filming in India, rather than a family out for a nice evening. That image helped me visualize with great clarity a scene our fellowship group studied on Sunday morning.

The passage we studied was in Mark 6, where He eventually fed lots and lots of people. The background leading up to this event was that He and his disciples were headed to a "quiet place" for some rest. But huge crowds prevented Him from doing so - in fact, "running there on foot...getting there ahead of them." Yet His approach to the crowds was so convicting to me - compassion.

He felt such compassion for them. Not so much for their physical needs, but because they were sheep without a shepherd. As we finsihed our study, we began discussing our application and accountability points from the passage. (Why study the Word if your life isn't going to change as a result of your reading?) Nearly all of us settled in some way on the Compassion Issue that He so divinely illustrated for us. Life here seems to sap your compassion. A constant wearing of cultural demands gives you so few opportunities to just naturally be compassionate. But, obviously, we weren't the only ones who were bombarded with crowds, and His response shows us the right way to respond. I fumbled around during my turn because I wasn't quite sure how to verbalize my response. "Being a person of compassion" just doesn't give many concrete action steps.

Well, as it turns out, I had a chance to live out my application point the very next evening.

Samantha and I had run down to the store to buy something, and we were returning to our apartment. As the elevator doors were just about to close (with only me inside! yay - I didn't have to make small talk!) an asian family rushes up, frantically calling for me to hold the elevator. A mom, dad, a young boy and two other girls (who I'm unsure how they fit in the group) scrambled inside. I pushed my floor "10", and they pushed "9". The usual elevator banter started - wow, look at your baby, she's so cute, how old is she, what are you doing in this country, yadee yadee yadee - and I apathetically obliged.

After a brief moment of silence, the father cut in with the very obvious, "Oh, so you live on the 10th floor?"

"Mmmm," I said, mumbling the typical local response of affirmation.

"Oh," he says. "Tenth floor, which number?"

My mind started working double-time. Images of children begging for free english lessons, ladies coming by at all hours of the day with random gifts of food and other various delicacies flooded my mind. In an effort to protect my time and the secrecy of my whereabouts, I sheepishly pretended to not understand. "Yeah," I replied. "I live on the tenth floor."

Satisfied - but thinking I am one dumb foreigner - the man and his family got off the elevator, one floor below my house. As the elevator doors came together, my heart sank. The conviction was immediate.

I had done a great job of crowd control. That man and his family would never have known I was intentionally avoiding his question. He would never have thought I was rude. This crowd had been controlled.

But it came at the cost of my compassion.

Who says my time is my own? Where did I get the idea that my house should be bolted down with lock-and-key, unavailable to the many out there who truly are sheep without a shepherd. So what if I have to give a few free english lessons to build a bridge to a shepherd? so what if I have a stockpile cabinet of random gifts from asian friends? Will they not know whose I am by my love?

I walked in the door to my house and unloaded my burden to my husband, who kindly handed my keys back to me. "Go find them," he instructed.

"But I don't know which apartment in theirs! What will I say?" I protested. But I knew he was right.

I gathered up my keys and my courage, put on my shoes and walked out the door, prepared to eat the words I had so thoughtlessly offered on the elevator.

As I walked in the darkened hallway of the ninth floor, I saw that Apartments A and D were offices and were closed (as is the case with much of our building - we actually have very few neighbors because all the apartments are being used as office space). That left B and C. I crept up to apartment C and heard a TV, but none of the loud chatter that usually comes from homes with young children. I quietly walked down to apartment B. It was obvious from the decibel factor I had found the right place. I silently offered my repentant heart to the Lord and knocked on the door, swallowing every iota of pride that had ever been in my body.

"Who is it?" came a gruff yell from inside the house.

"Ummm," I stammered. "I'm the foreigner you met on the elevator a few minutes ago."

"Huh?" came back the startled reply.

"Uh, I'm a, uh, I'm a foreigner," I tried again.

The door swung open to reveal a bustling asian home. The TV was on at a level that a near-deaf man could hear, while two younger girls sat on chairs trying to carry on their conversation over the noise of the TV. The 9-year-old boy ran around the house as if chasing an imaginary rodent or something. Steam billowed from the kitchen, signaling that the leftovers were still hot if I was interested in staying for dinner.

They insistently urged me to come in, so I did and then offered my apologies. I told them that as they got off the elevator, I realized that he had asked me which apartment I lived in, not which floor I lived on. I told them that I didn't understand at first what he said (not quite true) but that now I did understand. I told them my asianese isn't very good (VERY true) so that's what caused the mix-up. I told them I was very embarrassed for not understanding, and since our building doesn't have very many residents, they were some of my only neighbors and I wanted to become friends (also true).

We spent the next few minutes chatting, telling them about my family, listening to them tell me about theirs, and just starting the road to a friendship. The conversation ended happily, with both of us offering the other a warm invitation to come visit sometime.

I left their home, feeling happy that I was able to make the situation right, but also a bit grieved that I didn't learn the lesson the first time. Thankfully, I am the recipient of a divine patience! So now after my public and private confession, I can carry on with a greater clarity on how not to do crowd control.

I know something you don't know...

Well, as I've been sitting here writing my blog, checking other blogs, reading the news and various other computer-related tasks, I have been enjoying the happy laughs of Samantha in the background. She was laying on her bear play-gym, cheerfully batting the dangling bears back and forth - which caused great squeals of delight. This went on for about 30 minutes, until I finally looked up from my work and went to go give her a hug (for providing me with such happy accompaniment!) As I reached down, I realized something.

Yes, her squeals were happy squeals, but it appears there was a hint of "I-know-something-you-don't-know" squeal in there too. Her diaper was oozing yellow baby-poop. It's true. Poop, poop everywhere. No wonder she was so happy.

And this comes at a very opportune time. Our high-falutin' washer/dryer combo is broken. The people came out to look at it this morning (after three days of no wash abilities already) and declared that we needed a new one. Apparently, there was a water leak right on the computer chip that runs the whole thing. I was a little alarmed when I heard that and realized we could have easily had an electrical fire in here! But, more importantly now, that means Samantha's bear playgym and the clothes she was wearing while committing her stealthy act will have to wait three more days to be washed. Yuck.

Unsolved Mysteries...Explained!

Well, I do apologize for not updating my blog as quickly as I had originally promised. Things just seem to stay in a general state of craziness here, but the last couple of days we have been blessed by a visit from our friend Kim, from where we used to live. We've enjoyed hanging out with her as she finishes up her time here and is about to head back.

Apologies aside now, this sunday afternoon everyone at my house is sleeping (josh on the couch, mantha on our bed, emma in her bed, kim in the guest room) and I alone am awake to hold the fort. Not that this fort needs holding or anything...but oh well.

So - the other day, we all decided to go out as a family and get some things done. first, we dolled emma up in her cute outfit and her fashionable sunglasses so she could dazzle all her admirers while still being protected from harmful UV rays. The first photo was taken in the lobby of our apartment building.

We procedeed to walk down the street to our local post office where emma was helping her daddy glue the stamps on a few birthday greetings we were sending out. (If your birthday is this month, your greeting might be a little late!) In this country, they do not yet utilize self-adhesive technology, so a little old-fashioned glue is needed. Emma really likes sitting up on the counter of the post office and "helping" us glue on the stamps and handing the letters to the mail lady.

Our next stop was Pizza Hut, where samantha was scheduled for her next feeding. Unfortuantely, the holiday bustling environment of pizza hut was a less-than-ideal environment for her to partake of her noontime meal, so she decided instead to scream the whole time. After a few minutes of coaxing, she was conviced that her pacifier was a good thing, and finally zonked out in my arms. Hence, an opportunity for a family pic.

Walking home from Pizza Hut, I made the jump. Since we just happened to be passing my "american-coke-store" I decided I might as well go ahead and buy my huge 32 pack. I had never even seen a 32-pack of coke in the States. Oh well. That is irrelevant to me. I rushed home with my treasure, eager to find my a new home for the cans in my kitchen.

Shortly after arriving home, our doorbell rings. You might be wondering who it was. well, our landlord has been mysteriously absent from my blogs of late - it's not because she has quit coming by, but merely because she has been out of town, celebrating the holiday. Like any good friend, as soon as her car pulled up in the driveway and her belongings were unlaoded, she wanted to stop by. (don't you do that with your good friends?!) But, since it is impossible for her to come by empty-handed, she came by with a fresh starfish (his insides had just been eaten the day before...) and two random little statues made of seashells. Yes, just what I always wanted. Seashell statues. And a starfish. That still smells like fish. Perfect.

After Ms. Landlady left and emma woke up from her nap, we walked around and around the city. First to look at some clothes for josh, then to price and look at some pianos (we are considering buying one), and then on to eat where emma was endlessly entertained by the chopsticks.

And finally, we arrived back home after a long and tiring but very enjoyable day. Emma was tucked into her nice soft sheets and was more than willing to smile for several pictures. Its days like these that make you forget your children are naughty!

the day in pictures

So I usually spend a good chunk of space telling you about all the things we did (or did not...) get accomplished on any given day. But, today I think I'll change things up a bit. Remember, Josh is out of school for this week, so we've been able to do lots of stuff as a family. Today I'm going to post pictures from all the things we did today, so you can imagine the day as it happened.

tomorrow, I'll fill in any gaps you might have missed with your imagination!

pictures, continued

Field Chicken--aka Frog

Yes, I, PapaEggroll, am again being allowed to guest host the recent Blog worthy news. It is a privilege and an honor to be able to write to all of our good friends and family.

So, we were recently asked to go on an outing with our landlord one Saturday. Although knowing that "outings" could be full of unexpected events, we agreed anyway and set off for some adventure. We drove for about two hours to the destination, but because our landlord's son, who is about 2.5 years old, was sitting, or should I say standing, in the front seat and refused to put on his seatbelt, our landlord drove about 40 kilometers per hour. To most Americans, we have no idea what that translates into, but if you'll closely on the dash board in the speedometer it is roughly equivalent to 25 miler per hour, yes for TWO hours; that is the reason it took two hours. Two hours could have got me half way to Outback (at 70mph), but I digress. Emma, by the way, was in one of the sweetest, most patient moods she has ever been in, so we were thankful to Him for that blessing this fine ‘adventureful’ day. So instead of being half way to Outback, we were completely in Nowheresville. The weather was super that day, the sky was a clear blue like I hadn't seen it since being back in the States, and what, what was that I didn't hear...traffic, no noise, no noise at all. It's hard to imagine 'quiet' when you live in noise all the time, and it was sure nice.

The original plan: go fishing. In the end: it wasn't a good time to fish b/c of construction of new houses. So what did we end up doing? Eating. Finally, we arrived a restaurant set in some rolling hills with a nice river flowing beside it. There were even small boats one could rent if one desired to row back and forth. The food was good and cheap. Our landlord order a lot, too much in fact, enough for at least ten people to eat and get really full, but there were just three adults and two kids, three including 'Mantha but she wasn't eating rice this day.

As we looked at the menu prior to ordering, our landlord says, "oh let's order 'field chicken' because you can't get it in the city." "Okay," I said thinking that 'field chicken' meant sparrow or some harmless bird that was caught in a trap, or maybe it did mean a real chicken but just a smaller version of it, maybe just a few weeks old. They brought out the cooked and sautéed bird, and man, I tell you, the sauce was great, the meat was skimpy, but hey, what do you expect from a sparrow, but it was finger lickin' good. Rachel even tried some, and Emma had a few bites. The setting was great, the food was great, the ride was not so good, but all in all, we had a great day enjoying Creation and speaking Asianese for most of the day.

A few weeks later we were telling this story to some friends and an Asian friend was in on the conversation (his English is great), and I said the word "field chicken" in Asianese, and he said, "Oh you had frog." I thought to myself, "Man, my Asianese isn't getting any better because I thought he just said the word 'frog.'" And then I realized, he said it in English. "Frog?" "Yes, frog," he said. Rachel and I both looked at each other and laughed. Who knew there were multiple words for frog? Not us obviously.

So, cheers to the field chicken, the Eggroll familia all had frog for the first time at the same time.

news of the girls

Tonight, both of the girls have stories...so I will tell each of them for you.

Emma: Keeping up with the Joneses
Emma's best (and only) friend, Clara, has a little Doll that accompanies her everywhere. Her dress and hair are worn from months of hugs, kisses, and who knows what else; but oh, how clara loves the doll. Each time she comes to our house, doll also comes. I think Emma can sense the love between doll and clara. I watched emma the last time clara came over - she tried to snatch doll away when clara wasn't looking. It's almost as if she's looking for a soulmate.

Yesterday was a huge holiday in this country, so we were out walking around last night. We passed this one little shop with dolls in the display window. They were certainly different than Clara's doll, but they were dolls nonetheless. I decided that all the asian parents buy their kids presents on major holidays - and we've yet to buy emma anything since we've arrived - so i thought emma deserved a doll of her own. We went into the shop, and held her up to the shelf so she have some say in the matter. She immediately pointed to a doll with brown skin and straight brown hair (the native american doll) shouted: "Dora!Dora!"

Displaying my ego-centric american attitudes, I redirected her enthusiasm toward the blond-haired, blue-eyed dolls outfitted in flowery dresses as opposed to those wearing headdresses and loincloths. We finally settled on one wearing a nice green dress with short blonde hair. We paid our $3 and finished the walk home.

Emma's doll got a warm introduction to our family; she was talked to and kissed the entire way home. Emma even perched her atop the stroller so doll could get an introduction to the area surrouding her new home. How thoughtful is my daughter...

But the best part came this evening as we were getting ready for bed. Emma lined doll up with all her favorite stuffed animals (fish, bear, puppy, caterpillar) and gave them all good night kisses. Then, she decided that doll, as the newest member of the clan, should be dressed appropriately for bed. She went to the bathroom, pulled out the dirty jammies I had just put in the hamper, and carefully tried to put them on doll. When they were finally on (in a sort of haphazard way...) she gave doll a kiss and then went to go say goodnight to daddy.



Samantha: it was the best of times, it was the worst of times
Josh is off of school for a week! Yay! A whole week of josh being around the house - to read books to the girls, to go on walks together, to play guitar, to change diapers...

We decided this morning to make the most of the holiday and we started to work on our growing list of "things to accomplish in the house". BUT, first we thought it would be fun to take emma to this little indoor playground to play. Samantha is obviously too young to play, so josh waited on the benches outside while emma and I played inside. The problem with that arrangement is that the foreign baby is stationary. As long as the baby keeps moving, the gawkers can't gawk for too long. Oh...but as soon as the movement stops, the crowd begins. Such began Samantha's day of overstimulation.

After the playground, we had lunch at a nice Western-style place. Our plan was for me and mantha to leave from there and go look at some furniture items we needed, while josh took emma home for her nap. I thought it would be prudent for me to feed samantha before leaving the restaurant so I could maximize my time shopping. For some reason, samantha just bucked up against me and wouldn't eat. Oh well, I thought. I'll just try again later.

An hour later, after walking through sweltering hot and noisy shops, Samantha was in no more of a mood to eat than before. Surely when we get home, she will want to eat. We finished our errands two hours later and headed home. By this time, Samantha should have already eaten one good meal and was due for another as soon as we got home.

We walk in the door, hot and exhausted from our outing. As I sit down to feed Samantha, she continued stiffening up and crying instead of eating. Josh and I conferred over what to do and we decided to let her cry for a moment on the bed to release some of the tension that might have built up as a result of our LONG day outside.

Boy, we didn't know Samantha could cry like that. She cried, inconsolably, for a long time. (or at least it felt like a long time to a mom!) These were no ordinary tears. They were distressed, agitated, "I'm-all-worked-up-and-just-don't-know-what-to-do-about-it" tears.

After a while, she DID calm down and eat, but it was certainly Samantha's worst of times!

But later that evening, I was giving Samantha a bath as emma looked curiously on. As emma narrated the event - "Mantha! Bath! Mantha! Bath! Splash! Mantha!" - Samantha's mood dramatically changed. Each time emma opened her mouth to say something, Samantha giggled! Those long, loud giggles we've been trying to replicate since the first time! It was like the Seinfeld episode where George tries to convince Jerry that he can't not be funny. Everything Emma did was funny. Everything I did was funny. Every splash, every word, every twinkle in the eye was cause for Samantha to open up and laugh. What a great ending to the day!

* for the vain only *

I've got a dilemma ahead of me.

I stepped on the scale a few days ago at Rachel's house. (I'm still too afraid to buy a permanent one for my house!) While the dial swung indecisively back and forth, I tried to ignore those pestering thoughts of how many cokes I drank last week - or worse yet, how many peices of pie I ate the night before!

When the final numbers were in, I wasn't sure how to react. Sure, I had gained A LOT of weight when I was pregnant with Samantha. And sure, I've lost a lot of it since relocating to my new asian home - in fact, I've lost about 13 pounds. But, that still leaves me about 20 pounds short of where I should be for a "healthy" woman my age. (By the way, what does "healthy" mean anyway? If it means a life devoid of carbonation, caffeine, and sugar how can that be healthy? Fine, physically healthy, maybe. But emotionally healthy? You may live longer, but you miss out on melt-in-your-mouth chocolate, fizz-in-your-face coke, and yummy cheese dip. Count me out!)

The problem is that I have a beach date in February. We've rented this really nice villa to stay in for a week in Thailand, so I feel that my quest to lose Samantha's leftovers deserves a bit more effort on my part. I'm still just trying to decide how much effort.

Rachel says you can do anything for 15 minutes a day. Alicia has still managed to be faithfully attending her gym. My mother, of course, never needs to lose any weight. (Who says you will look like your mother when you get older??)

I kept telling myself, "after josh's birthday..." I certainly didn't want to start before, as that would have caused me to ration more carefully my portions of hello dollies, mexican food, and german chocolate cake (see previous posts). No, we can't have any rationing going on in this family. So, I had resolved to "do better" (again, what does "do better" really mean?) after the birthday celebrations were over.

THEN...the manager at the store where we found the imported Coke tells me that if I buy a 32-pack of coke, he'll give me a 10% discount. Granted, the discount only comes to a few dollars, but in this country, the willingness to give a discount is seen as a sign that the other party is weakened, and willing to give in. According to local thought, this is a situation that should not be passed up.

But still, that's paying over US$30 for a 32 pack of Coke. I keep going back and forth. Thirty-two dollars seems a bit excessive for Coke. Thirty two cans seems a bit much to have at my immediate disposal. But a good coke can solve wonders for a tough day. (Even now, I'm sitting here mentally figuring that's 32 nice hot baths with a coke and a frosty mug...or 16 hot baths and 16 mexican dinners...or 16 hot baths and 8 mexican dinners and 8 pizza nights...or...)

On the other hand, I could still continue my current pace of gastrointestinal consumption and just up my physical activity. I could get up earlier and walk around the block (like Rachel...) or I could go work out during emma's naptime (like Alicia...) or I could just forget both of those and buy some "As seen on TV" weight zapper that miraculously zaps away extra fat, requiring me to neither cut back my calorie intake or make sacrifices in the exercise category. I wonder if they ship internationally...

But seriously, sacrifice is good for the soul, right? Maybe I can walk the mile or two to the special Coke store when I want a coke - then, I am still allowed to indulge but I have made at least some effort at physical fitness. Or maybe I will forbid myself from making cakes, pies, and gluttonous meals. I did make some super-tasty carrot-raisin muffins the other day (and they called for a cup and a half of carrots. that's healthy!) so they can stay.

Or maybe I should just take little steps. Twenty pounds in four months. Surely I can do that without being TOO healthy, right...?