Pretty in Pink

Thanks, Auntie Mich, for the hat.
Thanks, Ms Moore-Miller, for the blanket.
Thanks, Harper Jo, for the overalls and socks.
Thanks, cousin Keilah, for the shirt.
Thanks, God, for the cheery smile.
And finally, thanks, Target, for the diaper.

Blessed

Today was my birthday.

I'm getting old enough that I don't really need to celebrate. And, much as I love going out to eat, the kids complicate things enough that I preferred staying home for a simple dinner with my nuclear family tonight. It was a peaceful, relaxing evening. And my husband bought me the perfect gift. He figured out a little luxury that I would really appreciate.

But the part that warmed my heart was receiving text messages and email messages wishing me happy birthday. They came from all over the state (and two from the other side of the world) from people whom I love, but don't keep up with as much as I would like. I felt blessed that they remembered my birthday and took the time to send birthday greetings. Thank you, my friends and family, for blessing me with your well wishes!

Clarice

Waiting for the other shoe to drop

Our family has been in a self-imposed quarantine state since this morning.

Last night Jackson handily returned his half-eaten dinner into his plate. He quite literally tossed his crackers. At first we thought he had just gagged after overstuffing his mouth with goldfish. Then we wondered if maybe he had eaten something bad during the day since the remnants had a sour milk stench to it. But by the time midnight rolled around, we were wondering if he had the nastiest of all viruses - the stomach flu. What evidence would suggest that, you ask? More signs of dinner (and the after-purge replacement snack we gave him) making its reappearance on his bed, his pajamas, and the bucket we rushed next to his bed. Twice more.

So we decided that we would play it safe and not go to church and run the risk of potentially infecting others if it was viral in origin. I emailed the hosts of our Sunday evening small group to let them know not to expect us, moved Kiran out of Jackson's room, and climbed into bed with Ian nervously awaiting more of the same.

The night was blissfully uninterrupted, causing us to lean toward a diagnosis of food poisoning, but we still planned to stay home the rest of the day. Then I checked my email. It turned out that some friends Jackson had visited with on Thursday night were similarly affected - both adults had taken ill. With that information we felt safe in diagnosing him with the stomach flu. But we didn't feel safe at all. That meant we had most likely been exposed to the same virus.

It's been a rather surreal day. It was quite enjoyable not having an agenda. We watched "Cars", which Jackson finally earned after going to the potty 24 times. And we cleaned a bit, since we had an incentive to get the carpet under the dinner table clean. But the entire day was undergirded by a sense of doom. We were just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Wondering if and when one or all of the rest of us would succumb to the stomach flu. Every time Ian would move toward the bathroom, I would wonder if the time had come. And as I took my Sunday afternoon nap, he heard the gurgles of my stomach and wondered if I was the next victim.

So far so good. Another 24 hours or so and we'll know if we're all clear. In the meantime, we're here waiting for the other shoe to drop and sincerely, earnestly hoping that it doesn't and that we make it out of this most recent infectious episode unscathed.

Ah the joys of children and the viral farmer's market to which they avail us!

Clarice

Kiran's Big Brother

Kiran's big brother loves her.

He kisses her.



He hugs her.




He makes her laugh like nobody else can.



And yesterday, he started "reading" to her.



I heard him before I saw them. I had left her in our big papasan chair for a moment. I had just changed her diaper and went to wash my hands. I heard him squeaking away in the "baby voice" he reserves for her. Then I heard him say "This is cheese. This is apple. This is bwoccoli." When I went in the room, I found them cuddled up together with a book. He specifically picked out the "Babys' First 100 Words" picture book and climbed up in the chair to show her the pictures. It was very sweet. She's a very blessed little girl to have such an attentive big brother.

Clarice

Conflict Resolution

This past Monday, Ian and I had our quarterly meeting with Jackson's preschool teachers (yep, he's considered a preschooler now). They started off by telling us how he is such a happy boy, full of energy, and a delight to have in the class. Then they started telling us that the newest arrivals (which included Jackson and 7 of his little friends) were currently working on understanding conflict resolution (aren't we all?). They diplomatically proceeded to tell us that Jackson was making great improvements, but that his primary method of conflict resolution involved hands and tears. They were working on helping him to use his words instead of pushing, hitting, or crying. I asked how they taught conflict resolution. They said they had several steps involving identifying the problem, telling both sides of the story, coming up with a potential solution, determining if the solution was acceptable to both parties, and if not, proposing alternate solutions. I got overwhelmed at the idea that these teachers spent all day doing this with 2.5 to 4.5 year olds.

On Thursday, I went to pick up Jackson. He was over by the bookshelf, deciding on which book to "read" next. After he gave me his perfunctory hello kiss, he told me he wanted to read one more book. Just as he picked up a book, Z (whose name will remain anonymous to protect his identity) swooped in and grabbed it out of his hands. Jackson immediately started crying (see post below for an example of the type of cry). I started sweating a bit. The teacher was on the other side of the room talking to one of the other parents. I reminded Jackson to tell Z that he was using it. Despite two vehement declarations of "I was using that", Z continued reading through Jackson's desired book in a rather unfazed manner. The teacher was still not available. Jackson was still crying loudly. So I asked the two boys (yep, the perpetrator was another boy...who will remain anonymous) if they could think of a solution to the problem. From a few yards away, JJ ran over and picked up a random book and tried to shove it in Jackson's hand. "He-ah, Jasson. Read this," she implored. M also left his books and ran over, giving Jackson a brief pat on the back. "Don't cry. It's okay," he suggested. Z looked up then and suggested, "We could share it." He moved his body slightly to make room for Jackson to sit down next to him. "Share it, Jackson, share it," M agreed, jumping up and down excitedly. Z looked up at Jackson, who was not making any moves to sit next to him. He then speed-read the rest of the book and handed it over with a sweet expression and his trademark cocked head. "Oh, sank you!" Jackson declared. Tears stopped, smile returned, and all was well in the world. If only adult conflict resolution efforts were so successful.

Clarice

Quoted at CNN.com

The reporter was looking for an "expert" in children's dentistry. She got my take on Halloween candy.

Clarice

Fake Crying

By the time Jackson was just a couple of months old we had gotten pretty good at the art of determining what his cries meant. He had a specific cry for hungry, for gas, for just a little tired, and a real distinct one for too tired to try to fall asleep. Around one year of age a new cry entered into the lexicon. We were pretty sure it was an angry cry because we would hear it at lights out time when we left him alone in his darkened room to sleep. And it would stop as soon as we reentered the room. However, at around two years of age, the newest one entered in - the fake cry.

It happens several times a day, usually when Jackson doesn't get what he wants or when he has to do something he doesn't want to do. We know it's a fake cry because it is seldom accompanied by tears and he can turn it off in a nanosecond. Well last week, I asked him to go wash his hands for dinner and (as always) he launched into his fake cry with gusto. I followed him into the bathroom to monitor his handwashing progress and caught him watching himself cry in the mirror. He would occasionally stop and change facial expressions or sounds. When he saw me, he stopped crying for a second or two, then launched right back into it. So I joined him in fake crying and before long we were both laughing. It was then that I decided that I must capture the fake cry on video.

I only had to wait two days for this.



You know it can't be a real traumatic situation if you can keep washing your hands and say "I wanna see, Mommy" while maintaining the pretense of crying.

Clarice

Family Zerberts

Living Wide Awake

I rarely see my name in print and only remember one instance; my name is on the back cover of the DVD for Vengeance Trail, a low budget Western at Blockbuster. I did work on some Aero-Acoustic research projects at Georgia Tech Research Institute that were published, but I seriously doubt if my name was mentioned. Recently, I have been quoted by my friend and pastor at Mosaic, Erwin McManus, in his latest book called Wide Awake. It's quite an honor and quite humbling.

On page 135, Erwin tells the story of how I was training him for high-fall stunts on a short film he was starring in called "Such Great Heights." On one fall, he took his eyes off the mark and landed off center, causing his feet to wrap off the edge of the high-fall pad and smack the ground. I happened to make an offhand comment that "you always hit what you're looking at" and Erwin, in his amazingly relevant way, was able to make a profound example of the whole experience.

Now, I probably picked up the pithy wisdom from mistakes I had made in stunt training over the years. I once over-rotated on a 45 foot high fall and whiplashed my neck so hard that I had to get acupuncture because my chiropractor and an orthopedic deep-tissue massage tech couldn't relax the spastic knot in my neck. Another time, I laid down my street motorcycle when I was taking a turn too fast and out of fear took my eyes off the turn ahead, placing my focus on the ditch that I so desperately desired to avoid. I also know that skateboarders, race-car drivers and helicopter pilots always look as far ahead to the horizon that they can in order to make the most streamlined maneuvers.

I'm glad that I could pass on something that I have learned. It's far wiser to learn something from somebody else's experience instead of learning it the hard way, but alas, I am still on that pursuit of wisdom. I do hope that Erwin's ankle doesn't hold any grudges.

In any case, Erwin McManus is talking through each chapter of Wide Awake at Mosaic through the end of November. If you would like the book, I still have a few copies to give away so please email me. Or you may join our gatherings at one of seven locations and receive a free book and meet the author.

If you want to know more, you can "Look Inside" at Amazon or click on this overview.

Ian

Ian is Joe the Plumber too!

I decided to make a commercial for the "I'm Joe the Plumber" contest at JohnMcCain.com. What do you think?



BTW, if you didn't catch the earlier announcement, we started a political blog at hoteyre.blogspot.com.

Ian

Kiran Laughs

Pleasant happy baby. She's been smiling for a month now, but last night she started laughing for the first time. Fortunately, daddy was there with the video camera to catch it.



Clarice

Developing a Maternal Instinct

No, not me. I've got my maternal instinct intact now that I'm the mother of two children.

And not Ian. He's done a great job as Mr Mom for Jackson and now Kiran.

Jackson's the one who is beginning to demonstrate a maternal instinct. Last post was about how he naturally gravitated toward toys that involve motion or building. He's definitely all boy. But this morning he did something so sweetly maternal. I was walking by his room this morning as I was getting ready for work. When I peeked in on him, I saw him standing near the portable heater (don't worry, mom, it has an outer shell that doesn't fully transmit the heat...precious fingers are guarded from burning). He was holding one of his plush dogs right up against the heater. I didn't think that was too safe so I went in to move the doggy away from the heater. He protested mightily as I tried to remove the doggy from his hands, and shouted "No! The doggy has to stay!" I eased my grip on the doggy, but I told him that it wasn't safe so close to the heater. He inched away from heater a bit, but stayed quite close. A lightbulb went off in my head, so I asked him, "Is the doggy cold?" "Yeah," he replied. Then he refocused on the doggy, gently stroking its head, murmuring, "I know, doggy, I know. It's okay. Is your body warm now?" I think I had a grin on my face for at least half an hour.

It reminded me of an incident a week ago. Jackson was playing in his little friend Alaina's room last week. Ian was with him and called me to see what they were doing. Jackson was cradling a teddy bear and murmuring to it. Ian told me that Jackson had told him that the teddy was a baby named Kiran. Jackson had told Ian that he was feeding it (albeit through his shirt). Then Jackson upended the teddy over his shoulder and began patting its back.

Sweet, sweet things that children do. Now I'm looking forward to seeing what my little girl is going to do in a few years.

Clarice

No, buddy, that's a girl's toy

I was working at the practice today. It's our tradition to let the kids pick a little toy as a reward for their "good behavior" in the dental chair. A little four year old boy was going through the treasure chest trying to decide what he wanted. When he finally picked a pretty pink bracelet, his mom blurted out, "No, buddy, that's a girl's toy!" Poor little Mikey had to choose an alternate, a military figure with a parachute attached to his back.

I laughed to myself. Neither Ian nor I have ever said that to Jackson. His first toys were all gender neutral, although I will admit that they were mostly blue or green in color. I was being practical. We expected to have more children and I thought gender neutral toys would be more economical if we had a girl in the future (which we do). At day care, they offered gender neutral toys, but they also had a wide assortment of dolls, pretty dress up clothes, and cooking utensils mixed in with the trucks and blocks and balls. Jackson has naturally gravitated toward the trucks and blocks. It's so clear to me that he likes the things that little boys are expected to like. But I've also realized that it really doesn't matter what kinds of toys he likes at this age. He has plenty of time to develop his masculinity. And it will come. There's something very, very boylike written on his soul.

Clarice

Jackson and Kiran

When he's not making her flinch, he makes her smile.



Clarice

Toe-may-toe Toe-mah-toe

It's been rather interesting explaining Kiran's name to people. Quite often they hear Karen, or they think of Kirin (the beer), or the Kieran (the Irish boy's name). We're quite happy with the name. But we did have a bit of a disconcerting week in her first month.

I found the name Kiran on one of the baby names websites. I had entered the word "light" in the search box to see what would come up. The pronunciation at Baby Names World indicated KEE-ran, with an emphasis on the first syllable. We really liked it. We also thought it was a small tip of the hat to Ireland in honor of Ian's parents who both hold Irish passports (but are now US citizens).

We polled our blog audience way back in June to see what folks thought and got some.....interesting responses. Many liked the series of names that started with Kira***, so that confirmed its presence on the top 5 list. Then to double-check pronunciation I asked a colleague of Indian ancestry if she was familiar with the name and how she would pronounce it. She said that she had heard the name before, and that it was a good name, and that it didn't really matter how the name was pronounced. That pretty much settled it, except for some last minute doubts on the day she was born.

About three weeks after Kiran was born I took her to an event. A friend who had seen her birth announcement came up to meet her and then asked me how we were pronouncing her name. I said KEE-ran. She nodded and said "Oh, okay, because the one woman I know named Kiran pronounces it kee-RAHN (with the emphasis on the second syllable)." I looked over to see my colleague of Indian ancestry, who was within earshot. She must have seen the big question mark on my face because she looked at me apologetically and said, "Yeah, it's actually supposed to be pronounced kee-RAHN." "Oh," I uttered. I went home and rather despondently told Ian that we were pronouncing our daughter's name wrong. He looked a bit disappointed for a moment, then said "Well that actor from Beverly Hills 90210 pronounced his name EYE-en instaed of EE-en, like the rest of us. Some say toe-may-toe, some say toe-mah-toe." That made me feel a bit better, but I still didn't want to be the ignoramus parent who couldn't pronounce my kid's names correctly. But then I decided, heck with it, toe-may-toe, toe-mah-toe, I'm going to pronounce it the way I want to. So for about a week, when people asked me about the baby's name, I would rattle off, "It's a Hindi/Sanskrit name that means 'ray of light'. It's officially kee-RAHN, but we call her KEE-ran." People seemed content with that, although it was a mouthful to explain every time.

Well a few weeks later I ran into a group of international students from India. They were asking me about the baby and about her name. It dawned on me that they could probably tell me if I was on track or ignorant, so I told them that we had chosen a Hindi/Sanskrit name that was spelled K-i-r-a-n. "Oh!" they exclaimed in unison, "KEE-ran!! It means 'ray of light'!" I was so happy to know they knew the name and that they pronounced it the way we had chosen to pronounce it. To triple-check, I told them that I had been told that it should be pronounced kee-RAHN. "Oh, no!" they declared, "only Americans pronounce it that way. In India we pronounce it the way you do." Yipee! Not the ignorant parent after all.

So now I confidently call my daughter KEE-ran. Now we just have to deal with helping people learn how to spell it.

Clarice

Jackson at Two-and-a-Half

He loves fire trucks. What is it about little boys and fire trucks. And he's starting to want to demonstrate strength.

He's learning to put his clothes on. He came home from school like this. We don't quite understand why nobody pointed out that his pants were on backward.

He's got a mind of his own. He was quite adamant about drinking from both cups at once - one with milk, one with water.

That's our boy.

Clarice

What is he thinking?

Sometimes I watch Jackson's antics and I wonder just what he's thinking.

Last night we were getting ready for dinner so I started giving Jackson some instructions on what to do (clean up toys, try the potty, wash hands...). I guess he must have gotten tired of hearing me give instructions for the umpteenth time in the one hour we had been home because he covered his ears and turned his face away from me. When he took his hands of his ears, I asked him what he was doing? No answer. So I started repeating my instructions. He immediately covered his ears again and watched me for my response. I was in a silly mood so I started just silently moving my mouth in an exaggerated fashion. He looked baffled for a minute, then uncovered his ears (I guess to check my speaking volume). As soon as he took his hands off his ears I returned to my normal speaking voice. So he covered his ears again and I went to silent mode. This time, I got a laugh from him and we went back and forth a few more times.

Later in the evening, I had propped Kiran up on the sofa so she could watch Jackson playing. He suddenly jumped on the sofa. It looked like he was grabbing her head and getting a little too close to her face for my comfort. I immediately jumped up to protect the poor babe from her overzealous brother. When I got closer I saw that he was mouthing nonsensically to her. The hands were actually just covering her ears. I had to crack up. I've been cracking myself up all day long at the memory of him covering the baby's ears and mouthing silently to her. I just don't know what he's thinking sometimes. Between the moments of frustration at dealing with his "two-ness", come moments like these that are just pure delight.

Clarice

Pleasant Little Girl

Kiran's been such an easy baby...that is, once she made it through her week 6 fussy period. She doesn't cry much - only if we get really messed up with our planning and leave her hungry more than 15 minutes. Such a content baby. Here she is talking to her little friends who circle her head on her mobile.



Clarice

Business Travel

I love traveling. I love seeing the diverse terrain and cultural environments of this world. Whenever we travel, I can't stand staying in. I want to see as much of each new city as I can.

I just got back from a trip to Dallas. I was there to take a Board Exam. I flew out Sunday afternoon and came back last night. I was gone only 38 hours. Besides a walk to get lunch at a sandwich joint half a mile away and a shuttle ride to the testing center a mile away, I never left the four walls of my room.

That was my second trip to Dallas this year. The first was in April for a dental meeting. I only left the hotel once - to go on a guided tour to Baylor Dental School.

Business travel holds little pleasure for me. I didn't even want to explore more of the city. For me, something as fun and enriching as travel must be a shared experience. But, oh boy, is traveling a challenge with two little ones. So we'll have to wait a few more years before Ian and continue in our goal to visit all 50 states and 6 of the 7 continents. Here's our progress so far:



create your own personalized map of the USA
or write about it on the open travel guide



create your own visited country map

Clarice

Jackson loves Kiran

He always wants to kiss her. I should be thankful, but he's so much heavier and stronger than she is.





It's still pretty cute though.

Clarice

Flying with a toddler

Jackson has become quite a traveller. If he had a frequent flier number, he would have already earned himself a round trip ticket. People often ask us how he does when he flies. Most of the time quite well, but it does take some advance planning. Here are our tips:

1. Fly during nap time. That kills around 2 hours.
2. Run him up and down the aisle of the airplane. He can burn off some energy and we get to meet some interesting people.
3. Let him actually drink juice. That's a big deal for the poor child of a dentist.
4. Bring movies...and ration his TV watching prior to the trip so it's a real novelty again.

Here's Jackson watching Little Einsteins on my iPod.


Clarice

Remembrance

Thursday was a memorable day. Since 2001, September 11 has been a significant date to me. Something in me woke up after the events of that momentous day. But over time, I've begun to forget the overall impact just a bit every year.

This Thursday morning started out just like any other day. We woke up, washed up, and I packed Jackson into my car to begin our journey to day care. We did our normal routine, pointing out the ambulances waiting outside the local hospital's ER, the tow trucks near the auto repair shop, the taxis parked outside the Four Seasons Hotel. Then we started approaching Jackson's favorite location on our journey to school - the fire station. As I do every morning that I drive him to school, I peered ahead to see if there would be a fire engine in the front drive of the fire station rather than tucked away in the garages. I saw the flash of red that told me that Jackson was going to have the rare treat of seeing a fire engine in plain sight. I knew he would be so excited. But when the engine came in full sight, I couldn't join Jackson in his joyful celebration of fire trucks. There was a ladder truck parked in the driveway. The firefighters had extended the ladder to full length and had draped an American flag at the top of the ladder. They were honoring their lost fellows-in-arms. And I remembered again the horrible actions of those who hate our country and our way of life, who consider it an act of heroism to perpetrate violence against America. And the somber tone that has marked most of my September 11's since 2001 returned again.

But the afternoon brought a redemptive moment to this date. As Ian has blogged, he was sworn in as a citizen of the US. It was such a remarkable experience. There were probably way more guests than there were inductees. People sporting video cameras, still cameras, and celebratory flowers. There were guests and brand new citizens bearing American flags and wearing red, white, and blue apparel. The sense of excitement and pride was really, really moving. And I realized that I was in a room full of people who wanted to be American, who worked hard to become American.

There really is something special about America. The freedom and democracy that the founders set into motion draws people from all over the world, some of whom give up amazing careers to start all over again in this country (some day I'll blog about the conversations I've had with the international students at UCLA Dental School). But that very same freedom inspires such deep hate, the kind of hate that compels people to take their own lives and the lives of others with them.

So now September 11 is not only the date that terrorists attacked the US, but now it is the date that Ian became a citizen. And although I'll always remember the terrible attacks, I can now remember that this is the date that my American-raised husband chose to become a citizen, choosing to celebrate the very aspects of this country that others hate. I will remember that we are incredibly blessed to be in this country.

Clarice

Ian's U.S. Naturalization Day

I finally got a letter from INS to appear at the L.A. Convention Center on Thursday 9/11 to swear in as an American Citizen.

The fact that it was at the convention center should have clued me in to the demand for naturalization in California, the world's seventh largest economy, but just a few months ago I had attended my sister's nice, small swearing-in ceremony in Atlanta. The new citizens went in first to process in and verify that no changes to a person's marital or criminal status had occurred since the approval interview. Then the guests were allowed in to wait in a large room for an hour and entertain the restless toddlers. Finally, we filed into the district courtroom for a very nice ceremony that included hearing each name and nationality. There were 75 total new citizens and 50 countries represented.

Contrast that to my experience. There were 6,121 new citizens and no chance to be called by name or learn the demographics of the room. I noticed plenty of spanish and asian origin and one tall white man from eastern Europe. It was a cattle call. I was able to make brief contact with my wife and children so they could look in my general direction. After group oath-swearing, the pledge of allegiance and a video address by President Bush, all six thousand of us traded in our green cards for our proof-of-citizenship certificate, which surprisingly took less than an hour.

I'd love to post a picture of my Certificate of Naturalization, but since; "It is punishable by U.S. Law to copy, print or photograph this certificate, without lawful authority," I'll just show you the letter I received from President Bush.

Meanwhile, my family waited patiently outside, entertained by light-hearted heckling between the Republican Party and Democrat Party voter sign-up booths. I got my picture taken with a life-size cutout of McCain. Then we went out to dinner with some friends to celebrate.

Despite the impersonal aspects, I found myself in serious and grateful contemplation throughout the experience. I've been in America since I was nine and don't remember feeling any allegiance to my home country Canada. I've always cared for American interests and issues ever since the Reagan presidential campaign. I've only paid taxes here and I registering with the Selective Service when I turned eighteen. In 1990, while working as a co-op student for McDonnell Douglas Helicopter, builder of the Apache attack helicopter, the first Gulf war began and there was talk of a possible draft. I knew I was eligible and I was willing to fight for America back then. In fact, during my oath-swearing ceremony, about a hundred new citizens were recognized for serving in the armed forces to expedite their citizen process. Nobody forced them or me to care this deeply for America.

America is a great nation that for the most part shares my values. There is great opportunity here for personal advancement and service to mankind. American principles and ideals are worth fighting for and I'm proud to be an American.

Ian

Clarice's Latest Job

Ian's latest jobs

Hey,

A few links of my work have finally come online.

Here's a link to a music video I just stunt coordinated for Autralian singer Lenka called "The Show."



Also, the trailer is finally up for the movie I stunt coordinated in Jordan earlier this year called The Stoning of Soraya M.



And here's a link to Acts of Violence, the feature I helped produce two years ago, using our house as four locations.



Ian

Coming out of the political closet

That's who we're voting for. There...I did it. I've admitted our political leanings. I've personally been wanting to blog about politics for a while, but realized that not everyone knows where we stand. It's particularly interesting to be McCain/Palin supporters (and I'm a registered Republican) when you work in academia and Hollywood. Both Ian and I are scorned minorities. But both of us feel that this coming election is extremely important. And both of us have become political junkies. So instead of cluttering our personal blog with the political, Ian has started a new blog. If you're interested in politics, navigate over to hoteyre.blogspot.com. We look forward to some interesting interactions.

Clarice

It’s Just a Movie

I consider myself a macho man. In the nineties I used to joke about becoming a sensitive nineties male. Now I’m a dad and I’ve become a softy.

For example, the other day I watched Patriot Games for the umpteenth time…and I found myself getting really emotional at the scenes where Harrison Ford is trying to protect his wife and daughter from harm. I even shuddered when his wife and daughter were in the car accident.

So, have I become a sensitive new millennial man, or was I just a callous single guy a decade ago?

Ian

Letters, Numbers, and Symbols

Some of you have seen this videoclip I've posted of Jackson enjoying an alphabet toy that his Uncle Roy and Aunt Becky gave him for Christmas.



After receiving this toy eight months ago, Jackson started showing some interest in letters. He already knew his ABC song and could count to 12. So we thought we would try to help him learn to read some letters and numbers in a low key way. On our drives to and from daycare, we would point things out to him in well intended teachable moments.

So here's what he now knows at two and a half years.

He can recognize the letters E and M with great certainty. The letters S and W sometimes.

He can spot the numbers 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5. He sometimes gets 6, although he often confuses it with 8 and 9.

But if we're in the car, he'll identify the symbols for Toyota, Lexus, Honda, Acura, Mercedes, BMW, VW, Nissan, Audi, and Ford.

I guess you can tell what his priorities are.

Clarice

The Mustache Party

We were invited to a birthday party a few weeks ago. Our friend, having a sense of humor, decided to make it a mustache themed party. She encouraged men to grow their own mustaches and included mustaches for those unable to grow their own. Ian got busy growing his mustache, which only took two days (so different from the two months it used to take for my brother to grow 13 hairs on his chin and 22 on his upper lip). Our friend included two mustaches in our invitation so we assumed that meant that Jackson was invited also.

Alas, when the big day came, it didn't work out to bring the family. The little one wasn't quite ready for her first grown up party where BYOB was posted on the invitation. But we did comply with our friend's request to take pictures and send to her.

So this is how we would have looked had we attended the mustache party:





Jackson had this to say in the aftermath of the photo session:



Translation for those of you who don't speak toddler: "I don't like mustaches. Happy Birthday, Aunt Sandra."

Clarice

At one month

We took the kids to a going away party for a friend last Saturday night. Someone commented that it seemed like we got out pretty soon after the births of both kids. I replied that we took our time with Jackson. First time parents, we were cautious and overprotective. Plus, there's something magical about being confined for one month in what I think must be some kind of Chinese tradition. But with this second kid, we were definitely more comfortable getting out and about that first month. After all, Kiran was more likely to catch some kind of virus from her brother than from any adult we would contact. Case in point...

At one month of age Jackson had been out...
-to his pediatrician's office twice
-to his grandparents' home
-to our accountant's office (he was born in the heat of our preparation for our tax return)
-to a restaurant in Venice so his other grandparents could get out of the house

At one month of age Kiran had been out...
-to her pediatrician's office twice
-to her grandparents' home
-to two restaurants so her parents could get out of the house
-to three movies
-to her buddy Marley's house
-to her buddy Judah's house
-to Target to buy baby supplies for her cousin Riley
-to the hospital twice to visit her Aunt Amy while awaiting her cousin Riley
-to church
-to a birthday party for Jackson's friend Jeremy
...there are probably more events I've forgotten. At any rate, the whole new baby shock has obviously worn out with Kiran. Wonder what would happen if we DID have a third kid.

Clarice

Large, Medium, and Small

Jackson spends most of his time with kids his age (and size) and adults. Until recently, whenever I thought of him in terms of size, I always thought of him as being so little - especially next to his 6'4" tall daddy. But when Kiran joined our family, I started realizing how big Jackson has grown to be. She was this teeny little bug next to him. Then my nephew Riley was born one month and one day after Kiran was born. He was 5 weeks early and 2 lbs, 4 oz lighter than her birth weight. That's when I realized that she wasn't so tiny any more. And Jackson is gigantic next to him.

Here are the 3 Law grandchildren side by side. 27 months old, 4 weeks old, 1 day old. Large, medium, and small. Or perhaps Small, Extra Small, and Extra Extra Small.


Clarice

Update on the Valiant Little Dog

My very special nephew, who I told y'all about here, made his grand appearance yesterday. He made it to 35 weeks, arriving just 5 weeks early. Lung development was obviously complete as he came out screaming like a banshee. I got to be there to welcome him. He's a cute little thing. Here he is, wrapped up like a little burrito....


Thank you all for your prayers!! More pictures at our web gallery here

Clarice

Channeling Sean Penn

Get that camera out of my face!!!

Second Time Around

Today is the one month anniversary of the addition of Kiran to our family. It's been an amazing time.

Sometime early in the past month, my mom suggested that it seemed that I had bonded more rapidly with Kiran than I had with Jackson. I had to admit that it was true. I felt a pang of guilt for a moment, realizing that I had already violated the equal treatment ideal I thought we might want to pursue (can that happen with one son and one daughter?). But then I realized that bonding more quickly with Kiran wasn't necessarily the sign of a bad thing.

We got pregnant the first time 4 months into our marriage. It certainly wasn't planned. The baby was definitely wanted and hoped for, but not planned for at that particular time. Jackson was born just a few days after our first anniversary. Quite honestly, Ian and I had a hard time adjusting. We were still getting used to the idea of being married, having wed in our mid to late 30s, and having been rather set in our ways. We were getting used to the loss of independence and the addition of teaming. And I was just settling into a new role at work. So when Jackson came, my mind (and Ian's) was elsewhere. I don't know if I really bonded with Jackson until he started interacting with us. Until then, he was just a eating, pooping, sleeping machine. But this second time around I feel like I have fully embraced marriage (it's a blast!!) and parenthood (also a blast, albeit the hardest fun I've ever had). So bonding with Kiran is just an indicator of my overall state of mind...and that's a good thing for the family.

But something specific happened the morning Kiran was born that initiated the bonding process with her. Actually, it started the night before. Ian had a meeting so I was alone with Jackson and our night-time routine. I honestly can't remember the details of the evening. I just remember that it was awful. I think Jackson cried through his bath and resisted going to bed. He wouldn't go to sleep with me holding his hand or patting/rubbing his back or singing to him...nothing worked with me in the room. He kept coming out of his toddler bed so I ended up putting him in the crib that was transitioning from being his to hers. Then he would cry at the top of his lungs if I left the room. If I moved him back to his toddler bed, he was out again, but crying. It went on for close to two hours and I knew he was exhausted and really needed to sleep. I was exhausted and was feeling heavy and uncomfortable in my pregnant state. I think he finally cried himself to sleep. I felt like I wanted to cry myself to sleep. I was emotionally drained since Jackson hadn't had a night like that in over a year. Ian came home a bit later. We caught up and finally went to bed after midnight, with me worrying about the fact that I was exhausted from the difficult evening with Jackson, but still had to be in Inglewood at 8:00 AM to supervise students in the clinic.

I never made it down to Inglewood in the morning. Instead, I was awakened at 4:20 AM by what I thought were the Braxton-Hicks "practice" contractions, which I'd been experiencing nearly daily for the past month, particularly when tired or stressed. I spent about an hour trying to ignore the discomfort. Then I starting thinking that I probably shouldn't go to work and got up to set into action a "Plan B" for covering my work responsibilities. By 6:30 AM, I had an inkling that I might actually be in labor and not just having false contractions, but I figured I would need more time to confirm. After I did what I thought I needed to do for work, I felt compelled to go into Jackson's room. I sat next to his crib for about five minutes just watching him sleep. He surprised me by awakening suddenly, much earlier than his usual 7:00 to 7:30 wakeup time, even more unusual considering his very late bedtime. He sat up quietly and just held up his arms to be held. So I pulled him out of the crib and held him on my lap. This was a rare move for him. Unlike his normal morning practice of humoring me with a brief kiss before launching into a monologue about cars and trucks, he just sat there and hugged me back. It was such a powerful moment. In fact, every time I think of it, even a month later, I get weepy. And I'm generally not a weepy person.

In that brief period of time, many things happened. I think I realized that this was probably the last morning Jackson would have as an only child. I felt a sorrow that he would no longer have our undivided attention, but would be sharing it with another child. But at the same time, I was realizing that much of his life he never actually had our undivided attention because both Ian and I are people with strong senses of responsibility to our work and to what we think God has called us to. So I mourned that we had missed a lot of moments in his life while we were busy anticipating and moving toward some unknown future. And I mourned that the previous night, my last night alone with him, was such an awful experience for both of us. And while he sat there on my lap, uncharacteristically returning my five minute hug, I started bawling (also uncharacteristically...perhaps I can blame it on the hormones of pregnancy). It was the rivers-of-tears-flowing-down-the-face, snotty-nose, uncontrollable-sobbing kind of bawling. And my boy knew something was happening. He looked up at me and held my face in his hands and asked "Mommy cwying?". Then the moment passed. I don't remember what happened next, but it was probably a conversation about what he wanted to play with before going to school.

I don't know that my thoughts crystallized in that particular moment, but this second time around I have come to realize that I can choose to mourn lost time with Jackson, or I can choose to cherish time to come with both Jackson and Kiran. So, yes, I feel much more bonded to Kiran than I did to Jackson when he was the same age. I know I need to be responsible to my work, but I commit to prioritizing my family. I don't want to just do for them, I want to be with them. I want to enjoy the present I have with them instead of focusing so hard on the future I may have with them and apart from them.

It's kind of funny/ironic. For years, I had this mantra I would quote to people - "enjoy the time". I think it's the lesson I needed to acknowledge that my moment with Jackson reminded me of. I intend to enjoy my time this second time around.

Clarice

Are you wigh dere?

The most frequent question I get now that I am a parent of two is "How's Jackson doing with the baby?" I was a bit worried about how he would respond. He had been demonstrating a tendency toward jealousy. Actually, more than a tendency. The first time he saw me holding another child, he burst into tears, ran over as fast as his chubby 18 month old legs could take him, and grabbed the face of the offending little friend, attempting to take her face off (imagine John Travolta doing an impression of Nicolas Cage saying that...obscure John Woo reference). As recent as 3-4 months ago, he came over to hit his little friend Alaina when I was giving her a hug because she was crying.

So we were a bit worried that he would be jealous of his new little sister. The whole time during the pregnancy we kept telling him that his little sister, his baby, was growing in mommy's tummy so that he could love her. And the day he saw her for the first time, he seemed to demonstrate a genuine affection.

So we're not so worried about him feeling jealous. As soon as he comes home from school, he asks for her first. I don't even get a hug any more. He puts on this falsetto voice and says "Hi baby. Are you wigh dere?" (which we think translates to "are you right there?", although we have no idea what he means by that...she's obviously right there).

But we still have to worry about how he interacts with her. You know how some people say things like "She's so cute I just want to eat her up" or "I just want to squeeze him to death"? Well that seems to be how affectionate Jackson is about his little sister. He hugs her REALLY hard and sometimes bites her. So he's not jealous, but he just can't control how to express his feelings.

I guess she's going to grow up to be one tough chick if she can defend herself from the affections of her big brother.

Clarice

A Tale of Two Families

Lawrences & Eyres

July 2006
Jackson 5 months, Harper 2 months

July 2008
Marley 8 weeks, Kiran 2 weeks

Family Picture

Due Date

Today is Kiran's due date. According to the ultrasound technician, today was supposed to be the day when she would reach the magic age to be considered full-term. Of course, I never expected her to come on time. I thought Jackson would come late. After all, I had been told that first babies tended to come late. So I didn't expect him 10 days early, on my last official day of work. But with Kiran, I assumed that she would be early. I just didn't want to repeat the delivering on the last official day of work thing (as I did again).

So we've now had her for 2 weeks on the day she would be due.

I was approaching today's date with trepidation. Jackson's labor and delivery was so hard. I had about 36 hours of contractions before active labor really started (2 sleepless nights), 3 hours of active contractions, close to an hour of pushing, and an hour of being stitched up afterward. I was a bit scared of labor and delivery again. I don't know what made me think of doing a natural birth for Jackson (Becky, Lilia, Kathy M...). I'm a health care provider. We like drugs. So this time I wanted the epidural. If you don't know the story, we got to the hospital too late. Kiran was born one hour after they put that gown on me. I hadn't even consented to treatment. The funny thing is...I was telling Ian yesterday that I can't remember what the contractions felt like. And I can't remember what the delivery felt like either. And after months and months of telling people that we're closing shop after this one, I'm wondering if we should go ahead and let another accident happen.

I was approaching today's date with excitement. I was so curious to see what Kiran would look like. I spent most of Jackson's pregnancy telling Ian how my dominant genes would absolutely wipe out his recessive genes. Then I birthed a blond hair, blue eyed boy. The blue eyes have now become this cool light brown. But the hair is still Ian's exact color. This one seems to be expressing the dominant genes I threw her... although her eyes are also the blue/gray color that Jackson's started out to be. But I have been so curious to find out what she's going to be like. And on the day she's due, I feel like I have an idea. She's fairly mellow. She has a special little yelp she makes when she's ready to eat. And I think she knows me already. As soon as I pick her up to feed her, she stops crying and starts looking at me expectantly.

I just feel blessed. We've had an extra two weeks with our little girl. Now to look forward to the rest of our lives with her.

Clarice

More Pictures

We were so blessed to have our friend Emily, mother of one of Jackson's twin sisters, come to take pictures of Kiran a few days after she was born. She brought her clan to play with Jackson, join us for lunch, and document our new little one.

More pictures at her website. There are still more. If you're interested in seeing more pictures of the little one, let me know.

Clarice

Valiant Little Dog

I've been awaiting the birth of a very special nephew (whose pregnancy I blogged about a bit here). I have two other very special nephews and a niece (whose antics are recounted by their parents here). This eagerly anticipated nephew is my little brother's first child, making him a blood nephew. But more than that, this little one is my brother's child.

My brother is very special to me. We used to be as different as could be. I was the band geek/honor student, who had the pretense of being a good little girl. Little brother was the athlete/fraternity boy, who had the pretense of being a baaadasss. I don't think we're soooooo different these days. And he's the only person in the world with a shared growing-up experience, which gives him a window into my soul that few others have.

Weeks ago, when I was wrestling with the possibility that Bright Flower (now known as Kiran Jasmine) might come a bit early (at 36 weeks LMP instead of the ideal 40 weeks), my brother and his wife were so supportive and encouraging of me and my concerns. Then on the day that Kiran was born, my sister-in-law was on the way to the delivery room to join me when she felt a "gush". It turns out that the gush was amniotic fluid. My little nephew was threatening to come into the world much too early - at 31 weeks LMP. That would make him about 3 lbs and without full lung development. So what I was worrying about with Bright Flower is happening with my nephew.

My sister-in-law was admitted to the hospital one week ago. She has been been prescribed bed rest with full fetal monitoring under the watchful eye of her physician until the baby is born. The goal is to get to at least 34 weeks LMP, which is another 2 weeks.

My brother and his wife have already given their little one a name. He will be Riley Madden Law. Riley means "valiant or courageous" and Madden means "little dog". So this is my prayer for nephew - that he would fulfill his name and be a feisty little fighter, like his chihuahua "siblings" that no doubt inspired his name.

So hang in there, valiant little dog. Auntie Clarice loves you and wants you to come into this world healthy and strong.

Clarice

Bright Flower's Arrival

Announcing the birth of Kiran Jasmine Eyre on July 1 at 6:10 pm at the Ronald Reagan Medical Center at UCLA.

Kiran came 15 days early and surprised us all. Clarice started contractions at about 4 am on Tuesday morning, her last official day of work. We both promptly cleared our schedules and took advantage of a few hours to finish our mental and physical preparations. We arrived at the hospital at 4:40 pm, and Clarice got settled into a bed at 5 pm while the triage nurse was completing admission proceedings. Six minutes later she felt the urge to push and her water broke. At 6:10 pm, after only 20 minutes of hard pushing, Kiran squeezed into this world with a panicked cry and then settled into looking around and blinking. She is beautiful, perfectly formed, and has dark hair; more than Jackson had by one year of age. She has great grandma's nose, just like her brother, and much less of Daddy's pronounced cranium. She is even more mellow-tempered than Jackson was and makes little squirrel noises. Mom is doing exceptionally well due to a much shorter and easier labor and delivery than last time (less than half).

The family is all home together now. Jackson has been very tender with Kiran and surprisingly not jealous. He was very excited to give her the giraffe plush he bought her and was very excited to receive the surprise that Kiran "bought" for him (more train set additions).

Kiran means beam or ray of light and Jasmine is a fragrant flowering vine (we thank all of you who offered opinions about her name). Kiran's birth stats were: 7 lbs, 5 oz and 21 inches long. For comparison, Jackson was 6 lbs, 4 oz and 19.5 inches long at birth and he came ten days early.

We were so blessed to have our good friend Emily (mother of one of Jackson's best friends) present to document Kiran's arrival. Those pictures are posted at her website. More of our own pictures are posted at our family web gallery:

Thanks for your thoughts and prayers. We are exceedingly excited and grateful for God's provision and blessings.

Ian, Clarice, Jackson, and Kiran

Disappointment Over Answered Prayers

It's been quite a roller coaster week. Actually, the past three weeks were quite hectic. I had to clear the graduating dental students for graduation, write and grade a final exam, prepare a project for a Fellowship that I'm a part of, and try to be a good wife and mommy. And Ian had quite a few nights where he had meetings as well. So I started last week off a bit sleep deprived. Then Tuesday afternoon I supervised residents in the clinic and Wednesday I saw a record number of kids for checkups, cleanings, orthodontic adjustments, and fillings. I was beat.

By the time last Thursday rolled around, I was experiencing frequent mild contractions. Actually, they were a little more than mild. Wednesday night was a restless night of sleep as I kept awakening to contractions. I reported all this to my OB when I went to see him for my regular checkup. Since I was 4 weeks from our due date, he decided to do an exam to check on the status of my cervix (sorry all, there's just no better way of saying this than what it is). "Hmmm," he said, after completing his exam. That's never a good thing to hear from a doctor. He told me that the baby was still high and that I wasn't dilated at all, but that the cervix was very soft and that I was 50% effaced. He said he thought there would be a 0% chance of the baby coming in the following week, but a 50% chance the next week and a 75% chance the next. Then he asked me if I could stop working sooner so that I could get more rest.

All of that really worried me because I had read that babies weren't considered full term until they are 37 weeks. Plus, my parents were out of town at a family reunion and the new medical center, at which we were hoping to deliver, would not be open for another 10 days. I continued to have frequent contractions the next two days and noticed that my belly bump had shifted discernibly downward. I was starting to worry that Bright Flower would be coming early despite the 0% prediction - preterm, without my parents or Ian's parents in attendance, and in the old hospital. So I quickly emailed immediate family and the folks in our small group and asked that they pray that things would settle down and that Bright Flower would stay in at least until June 30, when my parents would be back and the new hospital would be open.

I started feeling much better a few days later. Less contractions, less pressure down there. But because I had sounded the alarms, my parents decided to fly back early from the reunion and Ian's parents started looking into earlier flights to Los Angeles. So I was a bit expectant when we went back to see my OB yesterday. Ian came along with me so we could ask questions, in case the OB told us to expect the little one to come in the next few days. But he did his exam and cheerily declared that things were progressing very nicely. He said that I was dilated just a little bit, consistent with my stage of pregnancy, and that the baby was still quite high, and that I was 25% effaced. He told me that he thought that there would be a 0% chance of the baby coming this week, but 50% the following week. He suggested that it might be two or three more weeks before we could expect to receive our new child. He predicted that she might be just slightly ahead of her due date. "Hmmm," I thought. That was a really different picture that what he gave me last week. So I thought I would double check with him. I told the OB that he had said I was 50% effaced the previous week and that he had said to expect the baby in 1-2 weeks. He looked at me with a baffled look on his face and questioned if that's what he really said.

I left the office feeling really disappointed. Not disappointed that Bright Flower would be staying in a bit longer. I was glad to have a bit more time to prepare for her arrival. I was just disappointed that he had given me information that caused me to sound the alarms, bringing my parents home from a trip earlier than expected, and causing quite a few people to be concerned. Then I started to wonder if it was my fault, if I had misunderstood or overreacted to the information I had received the week before. It took quite a while for me to consider that perhaps it wasn't an error on the part of my OB or an error on my part, but maybe, just maybe, God had answered prayer.

I don't know what it is. I tell myself that I believe in a God who answers prayers, yet when I ask, I really don't expect Him to answer, let alone answer in the way I requested. I still go about expecting and preparing for worst case scenarios. So this has been an important lesson, I think. I would like to try to pray expecting results and learning to recognize those results and rejoice when the answers come.

So now my parents are home and prepared to care for Jackson when Ian, Bright Flower, and I go into the hospital. This time I'm going to ask that God will bring Bright Flower sometime between July 5 and July 14, when my in-laws will be here. Since Jackson came too early for them to be here, I would love for them to be a part of welcoming Halina Kalina/Hester Sue/Fievel Honeysuckle/Helen Sharon Daphne Phoebe Heather into this world. I will wait expectantly for the answer...and rejoice at whatever the answer is.

Clarice

On naming Bright Flower

Way back when Jackson was just a little nugget, we polled our blog audience for potential opinions on his name. Basically, Jackson was named with strong paternal influence. Ian is Scottish for John. That derivative was chosen because his father is the third John in a row in his lineage. So Jackson is English for "son of John". Jackson's middle name is Timothy after my father. We figured it was fair to honor both of our fathers (and it sure made for less effort in picking out a middle name).

Since Bright Flower is a girl, we figured we could just follow the previous pattern and name her with maternal influences. My name, Clarice, is a French name meaning "clear" or "bright". In Chinese tradition, the meaning of a child's name is very important. It encapsulates what the parents dream of for their child. So we were thinking that we could pass the legacy on to Bright Flower, partially in honor of what my parents dreamed of for me, and partly because it is our earnest prayer that this child would indeed be bright and radiant, a light in the eyes of those who see her. Well, at least that's what we hope. So in studying the hundreds of names that mean "bright" or "radiant" or "brilliant" or "luminous" or "light", here are some of our options (mind you, listing them here doesn't necessarily mean we would consider them all):

Aileen/Eileen/Elaine/Elana/Elena
Candra/Chandra/Chantrea
Dana/Danica
Eleanor/Ellie/Ellen/Helen/Helena/Galina/Yelina/Jelena/Halina/Ilona
Fievel
Hester
Kiran/Kira/Kirana
Lane/Lainey
Leonore/liora
Mahina/Meira
Nora/Neriah
Phoebe
Roberta/Robin
Roxanne
Selena
Solana/Solange
Zia
Zora

For her middle name, we've got a great two-for-one deal. My mom's name is Pansy, like the flower, and Ian's mom's name is Ivy, like the vine. Even though we're calling her flower for her womb name, we want something with a floral or vernal theme. And we hope it encapsulates the idea of "fragrance", because it is our prayer that her life would be modeled after Jesus, a fragrant offering. So here are some options for a middle name:

Daphne
Flora/Forian
Heather
Holly
Jasmine
Kalina
Kiele
Laurel
Lian/Lianne
Lila
Poppy
Sage
Sharon
Violet
Willow

Interestingly, of all of the names listed above, 3 are names of cousins (Phoebe, Daphne, Sharon) and 2 represent aunts (Helen and Heather). So those might not make a final cut, lest our mothers think their influence has been usurped (but we still love those cousins and aunts!!).

So....let the voting begin.

Clarice

UPDATE:
I forgot to include Kellen/Kellyn and Sorcha in our list of first names.
And Ian reminded me of middle name options of Hyacinth and Honeysuckle (as if!!)

"Are they twins?"

This is a picture of most of the women in the small group Ian and I meet with through our church. We took this in January. From left to right, J was 1 week from delivering her first baby, E was 2 months from delivery, M was 4.5 months from delivery, I was 6 months from delivery, and C on the end is still awaiting her highly anticipated delivery date. So by the time Bright Flower arrives, she will be joining 3 other infants. And that's on top of the 3 toddlers we already have in the group. Yes, we're a really fruitful group of people.

We've really enjoyed building community with the other couples in our small group. We've been focusing mainly on looking into Christian literature or the Bible for guidance in building healthy marriages (and families). But a fun thing has been watching the 3 toddlers build friendships for the half of their lives that they've been interacting on a semi-regular basis. And, of course, there's a side benefit. When your kid has two little friends he likes, whose parents you like and trust, it makes babysitting exchanges pretty easy to come by.

In the months before baby #2 and #3 of our second round of progeny arrived, Ian and I babysat for each set of parents so they could have some "date nights" before their infants came. Because the tots tend to tear up the house when we keep them at our home, we started taking them out to the Grove for dinner and a chance to see the fountain, the trolley, the live music... The thing that we have found to be endearingly funny is that more than once, with each of the two little girls we've babysat, passers-by have asked "Are they twins?" Each time, they've justified the question with a comment on how well the kids get along. I guess the ethnic differences aren't that obvious.

Here's Jackson with his twin, Alaina




And with his other twin, Harper




Pretty cute, aren't they?

Clarice

Ian's Father's Day "Card"

For Ian's second Father's Day, Jackson and I decided to dispense with the idea of a tangible present. Instead, we made a video greeting card.



I think Daddy enjoyed his card, along with his 2 hour afternoon nap.

Clarice

"I'll love you forever!"

I had to administer a final exam yesterday. Students had 1 hour and 50 minutes to complete a 71 question multiple-choice exam. At 15 minutes to the end of the exam time, there was just one student left in the room, struggling to respond to my erudite questions. All of a sudden, a student came running in, looking as frazzled as could be. She started off by apologizing profusely, saying that although she had set her alarm early enough to make the 8:00 AM start time, she just woke up. She said she hadn't even brushed her teeth yet, which is a serious issue to a dental student. Then she begged me to let her take the final exam. "If you let me take it," she exclaimed, "I'll love you forever". Those were the words I had been waiting to hear my entire academic career. I was so moved by her declaration that I made an exception in the usual academic proceedings to allow her to take her exam late.

Just kidding.

When I heard those words, I was a bit taken aback. I replied something like "I don't know if that's the issue" or "that's not really what I'm looking for here". I don't remember what I said. I just remember being surprised. I mean, give me some justification or tell me that you want the opportunity to demonstrate what you've learned or tell me that an event like this is not consistent with how you intend to practice professionally. But "I'll love you forever"? Why should that matter when the issue has nothing to do with our (heretofore nonexistent, except in a 1:100 ratio) relationship and everything to do with the requirement that students demonstrate that they have learned.

There's something different about this generation of students. I don't quite get it. As much as I love idea of being involved in the process of equipping people to be in positions of influence (yes, dentists are people of influence), I don't know if that's really what I'm doing. Quite frustrating at times.

OK. Venting over. Now it's time to finish grading assignments from that class. Until later....

Clarice

Growing up with Cousins

Jackson has a little cousin who is 3 months older than he is. This is Jackson and Kaitlyn last July when they were 17 and 20 months.


Unfortunately, since they live in Florida, we only get to see them about twice a year if we're lucky (blessed) enough. It's been a bit sad to be so far from his closest cousins. Because I have a large extended family, Jackson has tons of second cousins and third cousins and kids we consider family although no blood ties are involved at all. And of course, he has dog cousins also. So he hasn't been deprived of the kind of huge family events I had growing up with my 23 first cousins and innumerable second cousins. But we're sad we don't get to see Jackson grow up alongside Ian's brother's kids.

But Bright Flower will have a local cousin to grow up with. My brother and sister-in-law are expecting their first child 6 weeks after Bright Flower is due. They live about a mile from us so theoretically we should be able to see them more often than we do the other cousins. Of course, they're planning to move around the time the baby is born. Something about LA not being a great place to raise a kid (as if the OC is going to be that much better!!).

It's been fun going through pregnancy with my sister-in-law. I didn't get this experience with my other sister-in-law when she was expecting Kaitlyn. We didn't know we were pregnant when our families got together when Becky was 4 months pregnant and baby cousin Kaitlyn was 6 weeks old the next time we saw them when I was 7 months pregnant.

But Amy and I have been able to do some side by side comparisons. Here's some footage of our belly profile comparisons (and some bonus footage of Jackson shot on Mother's Day).



Clarice

all-you-can-eat seafood buffet

Today the family went to Todai to celebrate Jackson's grandfather Gung-Gung's birthday, pictured here with Clarice and Tai-Poh.Here's a candid of Uncle Randy and Aunt Amy racing through a pile of crab legs before Jackson notices.And here is Jackson with his grandmother Poh-Poh taking time out to look at the camera but not to stop eating those yummy mushrooms. Jackson loves shrimp and "crabbie-crabbie" ever since Gung-Gung shared Alaskan King Crab legs with him at Christmas. What was he thinking? He's only two and eats like a king. While Jackson did not finish everything on that plate, he did devour a whole plate of fruit until his belly button actually popped out a bit and we had to cut him off. Then he ran about half a mile (literally 2500 feet) inside the restaurant and visited with many customers. We love all-you-can-eat Todai.

Jackson's Inventiveness

Jackson has a unique, creative, fresh view of the world and he expresses it in fun ways with his limited vocabulary and understanding of grammar. For instance, he has recently started making words plural even if they are already plural. When he wants mommy to sing him to sleep he calls out; "I want songses."

Pictured is Jackson's latest creation: "I made a taxi."

And my favorite is when he wanted more Parmesan Cheese on his spaghetti: "I want more cheese waterfall."

Ian

Peek-a-boo

Children go through phases of learning and one of them, I've heard, involves the understanding that when an object can't be seen, it's not necessarily gone. Hence the game of peek-a-boo helps kids learn object permanence; that when he covers his eyes, the playmate within eyesight did not disappear, but the vision was blocked by the hands.

A few weeks ago Jackson and I went to a pool party and I was diving and flipping into the water. Each time I would swim immediately for the surface and look to Jackson to see if he was impressed by my gymnastics move. However, Jackson's reaction was not what I expected. He would cry every time I jumped in the water. Apparently, Jackson didn't like seeing his daddy disappear under the water.

A couple weeks ago I went bungee jumping with some friends at the Bridge to Nowhere (bungeeamerica.com). Last week in Atlanta, I was showing my family the video we shot. Jackson was enjoying the video until I dove off the bridge toward the water 150' below. Suddenly, Jackson burst into tears event though I was right next to him and holding him. Apparently, Jackson doesn't like his daddy doing stunts.

I'm glad my boy doesn't want his daddy to disappear or fall off bridges. But I'm going to wait a few more years before showing Jackson my stunt reel.

Ian

Canadian-American

Today I passed the U.S. Citizenship test and was approved to become an American. If you didn't know, I was born in Toronto. I've always considered myself a North American. Canada is part of America, right? So after my TBD future swearing in ceremony, I will officially become a Canadian-American. Oh, I also have my Irish passport, so that will make me an Canadian-Irish-American.

However, part of the Oath of Citizenship that I will take contains these words; "I hereby declare, on oath, that I absolutely and entirely renounce and abjure all allegiance and fidelity to any foreign prince, potentate, state, or sovereignty of whom or which I have heretofore been a subject or citizen." In the words of the DAR (Daughters of the American Revolution) Manual for Citizenship; "If you take this oath in true faith you are a true citizen of the United States of America. You are not an Italian-American. You are not a Spanish-American. You are not a German-American, nor any other kind of a hyphenated American. YOU ARE AN AMERICAN. There is no prouder title than 'Citizen of the United States of America.' It is now yours. YOU ARE AN AMERICAN."

Going through the naturalization process reminded me why this country is the best country in the world. As President George W. Bush says in the welcome video, "America has never been united by blood or birth or soil. We are bound by ideals that move us beyond our backgrounds, lift us above our interests and teach us what it means to be citizens. Every child must be taught these principles. Every citizen must uphold them. And every immigrant, by embracing these ideals, makes our country more, not less, American."

I'm almost there...a true American. I look forward to my increased privileges and duties. But, I'll always have fond feelings for Canada and Ireland.

Ian

Outed at 28 weeks

Among the things I had heard about second pregnancies was the idea that I should get bigger faster than the first. I was fully expecting to be huge really early, but it didn't really happen. For the first few months I was pretty much on the same weight gain curve that I was with Jackson. That meant I didn't really start showing until about the fifth month of pregnancy. People who knew could tell that I was showing, but there were certainly plenty of people who I didn't know well enough to include in my news-breaking circle. I'd catch these folks stealing furtive glances at my belly and then avoiding eye contact because they didn't want to have to ask if I was pregnant and be caught in an embarrassing error. But I can say that it was at 28 weeks when I grew to a size to be clearly pregnant.

See, I meet with a group of 6 other faculty members every other week. We've been meeting since September, as part of a Medical Education Fellowship. In the beginning, I didn't tell them that I was pregnant mainly because I didn't feel like we ever had an appropriate moment to announce something like that without sounding self-aggrandizing. And then at about the point that a room full of doctors should have recognized that certain anatomical changes were taking place, I decided to just see how long it took them to notice. Finally, at 28 weeks of pregnancy, when I clearly no longer fit into normal clothes, and strangers would walk up to me and rub my belly, one of my colleagues smiled broadly at me in class and asked when I was due. It was kind of funny to hear the other two women exclaim, "I thought it might look like you were pregnant, but I didn't want to say anything." And even funnier to hear the one guy (whose wife just delivered their first baby) say, "Oh. I really don't know how I didn't notice".

Altogether, it's been an interesting sociocultural experience to see how people respond to my growing belly. By the way, I am now growing bigger faster than I did with Jackson. I think my last two weeks of weight gain put me a few weeks from where I was when I delivered Jackson. I can't believe I still have 9 more weeks to grow. When this one comes, I'm going to look like a python after swallowing a small animal.


Clarice

My Grandma

My grandma celebrated her 95th birthday in February. She's quite an amazing woman with fascinating stories. She was born in China, and chose to leave her Buddhist traditions to follow Jesus as a youngster despite the vehement disapproval of her family. She fled to Hong Kong when the Communists came, just a few days after delivering her first child, my father. She worked as a teacher (Bruce Lee was one of her students) and elementary school principal when few women held full-time jobs. She sent all four sons to the US to study, then uprooted herself at the age of 59 when my grandfather decided to join the sons (and the first grandson) in the US. She learned English, learned how to navigate public transportation in Los Angeles, then in New York. But what's really remarkable is her selflessness. She always thinks of others, to the point where it's almost annoying. She has endeared herself to her 7 grandchildren with her good humor. Here's a picture of her 10 years ago (at 85), good-naturedly letting her two grandsons play dress up with her.


I admire her longevity, clear-mindedness, humility, and good humor. But last week, I was caught entirely by surprise by her adaptability. My aunt told me that she was learning to use email (at 95!). So I sent her an email to see what would happen. Here's her reply to my invitation to a Mother's Day dinner.


Of course, I can only read my name, a few words like "you" and "I" and "thank you", but I'll probably email her again just for the novelty of receiving an email from my grandma. Ain't she something?

Clarice