Halloween 09

Nuff said


Clarice

Grocery Shopping

We're trying to figure out how to get Kiran to bed early because she often seems so tired. So, one day I offered to take Jackson to Ralph's at 8pm so Kiran could have a quiet evening. Jackson enjoyed helping me choose veggies, fruits and ice-cream using commands from his perch in the shopping cart. Then he typically followed a choice by an opinionated; "I think I'm going to really, really enjoy that. Mmm."

At the check out line he admired the rows and rows of candy, assuming that they all contained yummy choclate. Then he blurted; "When I grow up I'm going to be 28 and then I can have some candy, right Daddy?" I laughed; "Sure, when you turn 28, you can come down here and have some candy. You can have one of each if you want." He said; "I think I'm going to really, really like the candy."

I hope he doesn't grow up until he's 28, although I say that now when he's three and cute.

Ian

Just Being Near Each Other

Last Friday I witnessed a teeny tiny event that warmed my mother-heart. We were at the passport office. Incidentally, we were there for 2.5 hours, which seemed like an unreasonably long time considering the fact that we actually had an appointment that took us one week to make, in a convoluted process involving a phone call with a million phone menus that resulted in an inconvenient noon appointment time, cutting into work hours and especially small children's nap times, causing fussiness galore in an environment that allowed no cell phones or computer usage to entertain said small children. But that's another story.

Anyway, Jackson spent the better part of our waiting time running in circles in the waiting area. The tiles on the floor were mostly black with white tiles set into diamond patterns. Some older, also impatient, children started the "don't step on the black tiles or you'll die because it's hot lava" game (which I distinctly remember from my own childhood). Jackson was trying to keep up with them, getting burnt by hot lava many, many times. Kiran couldn't keep up with them at all, so she stood in the middle of the hot lava, watching them circle around her.

At some point, Jackson must of gotten tired of being told that his feet were on fire. He walked over to a wall and sat on the floor, using the wall as a back rest. He stared rather vacantly off to the side. Kiran immediately toddled over and sat exactly three feet from him, gazing around in the opposite direction. With absolutely no acknowledgement of her presence, Jackson pulled away from the wall and narrowed the distance to one foot, leaving a little bit of personal space for both of them. Kiran gave a little glance behind her to where Jackson had relocated, lumbered to her hands and feet and backed her little diaper-clad hiney into his shoulder, guiding it down his torso to a very clumsy sitting position right next to him. He looked at her briefly, then put one arm around her shoulder and proceeded to bite the nails on his other hand.

We have so much drama in our lives sometimes, trying to demonstrate love to both children. One of my big fears is that my kids will not have a loving relationship with each other. But they really seem to enjoy just being near each other. No matter how many times he knocks her off her feet or pushes her or kisses her with his teeth, she still seeks him out. No matter how many times she steals away his limelight for something so simple as walking or steals his toys or gets the ideal daycare dropoff/pickup time, he still seeks her out.

It's a beautiful thing that starts most mornings. When he awakes, he usually plays independently until we go in their room to begin the morning process. Quite invariably, he ends up right next to her crib. And this morning, we were awakened by the sound of her calling him. "Dacksee. Dacksee." He heeded her call. When I asked him why he was sitting next to her crib, he said, "because she called me. She pointed at me and said 'Jackson', so I came over."

It makes me happy. It makes me worry less about their future without Ian and myself. Because if they like just being near each other now, I can hope they'll still look to each other when the inevitable occurs and we leave our responsibilities as their caretakers. They'll have each other.

Clarice

On Doubt

I had a very interesting experience nearly two months ago that I can't quite shake from my memory. I was on jury duty. Not just sitting in the jury assembly room, which is how I've served in the past. I was actually one of the 12 jurors on a criminal case. I can't give any of the details of the case. But I can say that I think it is incredible that we have, in this country, a system that respects its citizens enough to put one individual's guilt or innocence in the judgment of his/her peers. Sure, the system ain't perfect, but what it communicates about the founders' value for its citizenry is phenomenal.

It was a truly fascinating experience for the first 3 days. Jury selection, the presentation of evidence, witness testimony... Then we got to jury deliberations. We started out 7 to 5 on the verdict. By the end of the first hour of deliberations, we were at 8 to 2 with 2 undecided, leaning toward the majority. We took the weekend off and one of the undecideds, namely me, converted to the majority after being alone with my thoughts. By Monday morning, another undecided had converted to the majority and the process of deliberating made me more and more certain that the majority had the right decision. But the holdouts weren't persuaded. We were getting frustrated by mid-morning so we told the judge that we couldn't come to a decision and wanted to know what was next. He sent us back into deliberations, suggesting that we hadn't deliberated enough. So we went back in and kept working at it until lunchtime. Right after our lunch break, another undecided switched to the majority opinion and began confidently trying to persuade the holdout.

And this is where it got frustrating. "I have doubts", juror #11 indicated. The majority affirmed #11's doubts. "It's okay to have doubts, but are they reasonable?" we pleaded. "What about this? And this? And this?" #11 asked. We countered each argument with logic and with emotion, with metaphors and personal life examples. But he was stuck. But worst of all was his attitude about it. There was a certain lack of humility. He mocked the attorneys...the witnesses...even us. He was rude -interrupting us, shouting over us, chiding us for our conclusions about the evidence. He said he wasn't the type to jump to hasty conclusions, suggesting that the remaining 11 of us had. Ultimately, he was adamant that he didn't, and even couldn't, believe the testimonies given as evidence. His reason for disbelief - he didn't think he had the ability to see what the witnesses saw, therefore the witnesses couldn't possibly have seen it, despite the entirely different occupational training the witnesses had. Nothing could convince him that the witnesses had demonstrated their trustworthiness nor could be taken at their word. So he stood his ground. He looked at the rest of us and concluded, "maybe you guys are willing to look at this as a game, but I can't ruin someone's life based on something I can't believe." That kind of hurt, because the rest of us were also aware of the implications of our decision.

So we rang the bailiff, who led us back into the courtroom to deliver our verdict. Hung jury. 11 to 1. I mourned the loss of citizen time, taxpayer money, and the simple fact that one person's doubt could hijack what I thought was justice. The judge thanked us for our service and released us, saying that both attorneys would be available afterward to answer any questions.

We filed out into the hallway. Eleven of us huddled together. It was an intense experience and we just needed to debrief and mourn together. I personally wasn't planning to talk to either of the attorneys, but the Assistant District Attorney who was prosecuting the case saw us all there and came over. She thanked us in a very congenial and understanding way. We all beat around the bush a bit, then somebody had the boldness to ask her a direct question about the case. Of course, I can't divulge more, but I can say that what she told us clarified everything entirely. There were hints throughout the trial of the conclusion she revealed to us, but because she was bound by the laws of the court, she couldn't reveal those facts in court. And Juror #11? He very clearly saw us gathered around the Assistant DA. I waved him over, being one of the few people he was willing to talk to, but he just waved a goodbye, stepped into the elevator, and was gone.

I guess the reason that I can't shake this event is because there are hints of the eternal here. First, I was so impressed that the significant figures in this experience played by the rules. They could have broken the rules of the court to align the decision of the jury with what they knew to be true. But they didn't. And I think the Creator has been gracious enough to do the same. He could break His own rules to give us everything we need to cast aside all doubt and just believe. But He doesn't. I really don't think we can handle the whole truth. But I think there are hints of truth strewn throughout our life experience. We just have to learn to interpret them. And we have to trust that the other people we journey with in this life are also interpreting their hints appropriately so that the aggregate gives us a bigger picture of the backstory to be revealed. And I think we need humility. Because without humility, doubt becomes an insurmountable hurdle to accessing truth.

Clarice

Learning To Read

Jackson has been working on his reading skills. He knows all the upper case letters, almost all of the lower case letter, and most of the sounds that the letters make. So we've been helping him out. When he points to words and asks us what the words say, we try to help him sound things out.

Last week as we were driving home, Jackson decided to read his beloved "Cars & Trucks" book, given to him by his Aunt E. He started out by calling out the letters he recognized. I heard him say "J-A-C-K. Mommy, only fwee more letter and it's my name!" I thought that was rather clever and glanced back at the book to verify his declaration. Sure enough...


I was rather impressed that...a) he knew how to spell his own name and b) he could on to determine that there were 3 letters missing to spell his name.

Excited to see part of his name in one of his favorite books, he tried reading some more. I heard him excitedly sound out "pah, ih, kah, uh, pah. Pickup! Mommy, this says pickup!" So I glanced back again to verify.


Close.

Clarice

An Ode to Aunt Sandra

We have a friend who hosts very innovative birthday gatherings. Last year, she hosted a "mustache party" in which all attendees were encouraged to either grow mustaches (if chromosomally capable) or wear a fake mustache, which she kindly affixed to her invitations.

This year, she decided to host a poetry reading party to which invitees were encouraged to bring poorly written poetry for public reading. So in honor of Aunt Sandra's birthday, Jackson helped me write a poem. I'll let you judge whether is counts as being poorly written. And I'll let you decide which portions Jackson wrote and which I can take credit for.

Happy Birthday, Auntie Sandra
I hope you had a lot of pandra
And pancakes
And blueberries
And strawberries
And raspberries
I hope you had a special day
And did some baking by the bay
I did some baking on top of this tow truck
And, uh, I love you pochuck!

Not quite iambic pentameter, but at least it rhymed.

Clarice

Spelling

Jackson's been working on his letters lately. He can recognize almost all of the letters with great confidence and can write about half of the letters with some prompting. But we didn't think he had grasped the concept of spelling yet.

So tonight I was pleasantly surprised. We were talking about what he should write on a note to a friend. He told me what he wanted to write, then excitedly exclaimed, "And then I write Love, J-A-C-K.......ummmmm." I wasn't expecting him to make it that far, so I only wanted to offer a hint. "What goes ssssss?" "Oh! I know!" he exclaimed. "Snake-K-R".

It's a start.

Clarice

Kiran's surgery

Last Thursday, Kiran had ear tubes installed in both her eardrums. Sounds like a factory recall, but when your little girl gets an ear infection on average of once a month and spends a third of her life this year on antibiotics, which research is starting to link possibly to tooth enamel defects, you have to ask for help.

Clarice wanted to be present for the surgery, and I wanted her to be there since she is the medical professional in our family. Remarkably, thanks God, she was going to be able to squeeze it in before fleeing to her jury duty appointment at 10:30. We agreed that I would take Kiran in for 7:30 am check in and Clarice would leave home a bit later, drop Jackson off at daycare at a more reasonable 8:30, and then join us. The scheduled surgery was 9 am and therefore Kiran was not to have any fluids more than two hours prior. Hoping she would stay asleep, I scooped up the sleeping beauty at 7am and carried her to the car. But she awakened and became her cheerful, non-drowsy self, so I gave her a sip of water.

Arriving perfectly on time, I signed in and enjoyed Kiran climbing all over me and the chairs in the lobby. Then a nurse came out to collect the first patient of the day, a little girl who had already checked in but was not in the lobby. Apparently, her parents took her out into the hallway to distract her and they could not be reached by page. So, the nurse decided to take Kiran instead, an hour early!

Thus, a whirlwind of activity began that I was not quite prepared for. Within moments I was introduced to an anesthesiologist and asked questions about allergies, etc. I have a blurry memory of all the instructions I was given and people I met. I recognized the surgeon and said hello. The main point I remember was a description of the effect the sleeping gas would have on Kiran; that she would struggle for about a minute and then her eyes would roll back in her head and she'd be out. Knowing that Kiran was not supposed to have fluids in her tummy for fear they would come up and aspirate her, I secretly hoped that they would be forced to wait until Clarice arrived. I managed to call Clarice and alert her to the possible advanced schedule, but there was not much she could do to speed up her arrival.

Approval to commence suddenly happened and I was asked to sit next to the operating table and hold Kiran in my lap. A mask was held over her mouth and nose and when I caught a whiff of the pungent odor I joked about passing out myself and falling off the swivel chair. Kiran turned red in the face and panicked and I did my best to offer soothing talk and strokes to calm her. Then she went limp and the team instructed me to help lay her on the table and then I could go to the waiting area. At this point I felt totally helpless. Here was my little girl, unconscious, looking puffy in the face with tubes going everywhere. I was reluctant to leave so quickly and someone suggested I kiss Kiran on the forehead. The suggestion struck me because I couldn't believe someone had to tell me to do that. I'd been kissing her on the top of her head, but once she was out I kinda thought there was no more point to soothing words and touch. The request to kiss her one last time was haunting and surreal. Fortunately they continued to suggest actions that my body listened to, since I was not apparently able to give myself gross motor instructions. The surgeon told me that Kiran would be out of surgery in five or ten minutes and I expressed wonder and delight that the ordeal would be so short.

I found a magazine to read but could hardly focus on the article I chose. My heart raced, my body wanted to shudder and tears welled up in my eyes. I don't know how to express it, but I was dazed and alone all of a sudden, totally out of my element and comfort zone. Just writing this is making me cry all over again. It was so sad for me, giving Kiran over to the doctors and nurses and trusting them with her one-year old life.

And then I was escorted into a recovery room and Kiran was crying unconsolably and I held her tight and helped her cope with the obvious confusion. After about twenty minutes of pathetic wailing, she took her still warm milk bottle and began to calm down. So did I. Clarice arrived shortly thereafter and Kiran wanted to be held by her and not by me. Life quickly returned to normal and the little girl fell asleep in my car to wake up a perfectly happy little girl that I enjoyed for the rest of the day. Thank you medical team for taking such good care of my little sugar booger. Thank you God for being the Great Physician and loving us so much!

So no more ear infections, and I hope no more surgeries for any of my family. How Clarice must have felt when I experienced a concussion five days after our honeymoon and ankle surgery three weeks later. It's so much easier to deal with one's own ordeals than watch a loved one experience them.

Ian

"I have a bug"

Ian's been a bit under the weather the past few days. Surprisingly, neither of the kids appear to have given him this latest illness. To prevent the unusual circumstance of the viral pathway actually reversing its normal direction, we've been practicing a bit of respiratory hygiene. So I handled all of the food distribution at dinner time last night. But Jackson, accustomed to getting service from both of us, got a bit confused as to why Daddy was refusing to peel his orange.

"I can't touch your food today," Ian explained to him. "I have a bug and we don't want you to catch it."

"Ohhhhhh," he agreed knowingly. "Like when Patrick was in the big yard last week and a buzzy bee sat on his shoulder and Mi-ko said don't touch it and it fly away."

Ummmm...yeah. Exactly like that.

Funny, funny kid.

Clarice

When Life Events Collide

I've been riveted by the news from Iran. I'm not quite sure why. Perhaps it's because this uprising reminds me of the events of Tiananmen Square 20 years ago, when I woke to the idea that the human spirit yearns for freedom. I've come to understand that it's actually a spiritual freedom that we long for more than political freedom. But I think that until an individual can recognize this internal freedom, external freedom is much easier to identify and pursue.

Perhaps the events occurring in Tehran are a sign of the groanings of the earth under the weight of the consequences of human action. I had this intuition after the events of 9/11. I wonder at the connection between these seemingly disparate events. And I wonder what kind of beauty the Creator desires to bring out of the ashes at this time. And how we might intercede to facilitate it.

I just can't put my finger on why my attention has been drawn to Iran.

But this is where life events collide. Over a year ago Ian traveled to the Middle East to work on a movie, The Stoning of Soraya M.


Release of the movie has been delayed multiple times, but has finally been set for June 26. It's based on the true story of an innocent Iranian woman who is framed for an offense so that her husband can be free to marry another woman. Ian and I found out about the release date pretty much the same night we started hearing the news from Iran. And we both had the thought that this was a remarkable connection.

I guess we're not the only ones. The star of the film, Shohreh Aghdashloo, with whom Ian worked, was recently interviewed regarding the connection between the events depicted in the film and the events occurring right now.

So as I sit here blogging, coincidentally wearing my crew t-shirt for the movie, I think of the young Iranians who are protesting their oppression, and pray for a more divine release from oppression.

Clarice

Jackson Prays

A bit after Kiran was born, Ian decided to start a family tradition, modeled on his own family. So every night after the kids bathe, we all gather around the large papasan chair in the kids' room and read one Bible story, ask Jackson what he would like to pray for, and then pray together. So for almost a year, we've been taking turns praying out loud for Jackson and Kiran to hear.

Over the past month, Jackson has been rather unfocused with the whole process of talking about what to pray for. In fact, he's been downright uninterested. But for whatever reason, he stayed focused tonight. When we asked him what he wanted to pray for, he began listing some things, "trucks, cars, friends, the big blue chair, family 'votions, the map..." "What about your sister?" Ian suggested, "Remember how she's been sick?" (with her 5th ear infection in as many months). Then, as he often does, Ian asked Jackson if he would like to pray. Usually, Jackson refuses, volunteering Ian or myself. But tonight, he decided to pray:

"Dear God, thank you for this day. Thank you for... all those things we talked about. Thank you for family 'votions. And pray for my sister...um...ear infection. Make...um...she get better. Pray for the.....the....the.....blelelellelel. Pray for my bed, and Kiran's bed, and mommydaddy's bed. Um........ InJesusnamewesomefing. AMEN!!"

Well. It's a start.

Clarice

The sweetest thing...

It happens quite often.


Two chubby hands joined affectionately.

Jackson Sings Happy Birthday

It was my mom's birthday last week. So Jackson sent some birthday greetings.

Filthy Little Street Urchin

Kiran's eating finger foods now. That means she has to try to get food from her tray to her mouth. Sometimes it makes it into her mouth. Most of the time she gets pretty filthy.


She's also learning how to move around. Problem is, she hasn't mastered crawling yet. So she's doing this inchworm/commando crawl. And she loves being outside at school. The ground outside doesn't get the nightly bleach applications standard of the floor inside.


That was a brand new shirt this morning.

Sometimes after we bring her home from school, we just want to throw her in the washer.


She thinks that's a funny idea too.

Clarice

Does he look like Tom Selleck?

A stunt coordinator for whom Ian has worked is coordinating an action comedy featuring Tom Selleck. Since Ian is the same height as Magnum PI, he decided to remind the coordinator that he could possibly double Mr Three Men and Baby. What do you think?



Clarice

Happy Easter!

Now that Jackson is getting older, we are attempting to get him more involved in the special events that we remember. So this year we decided to decorate Easter Eggs on good Friday.


Not bad for a 3 year old...and a set of parents.

We dressed Kiran up in her Easter finest (thanks, Aunt Amy!)


Not sure how she liked being in a dress.


Kiran got dropped off at children's church so that Ian and I got to sit through a full church service...the first time since Kiran was born. And it was a refreshing one!


Jackson got to hear the Easter story at children's church and had an art activity to remember the day.


We tried to take a family picture to mark the day. This was the best we could get using our tripod.


We had a very....unique Easter dinner.


Jackson showed us some of the bounty he picked up in his Easter egg hunt at church.


Then he got to enjoy the special surprise that Tia Ceci from Mommy's work gave him.



He liked that part.

Happy Easter!!

Clarice

Kiran's New Tricks

Here's our little one at 8 months of age performing most of her recent tricks.



Clarice

Mommy, We're Snuggling

I was in the kitchen cleaning up after breakfast when Jackson called out to me. "Mommy, we're snuggling", he declared. And this is how I found them...



...enjoying some TV time together. Big brother and little sister.

Clarice

A Trip to Chuck E. Cheese

Yesterday was President's Day. We had the day off work and daycare was closed so on Sunday we made plans to go to the Grove with another family. We told Jackson of our plans on Sunday night so he would have something to look forward to in the morning. He got excited, talking about the fountain (a smaller version of the one in front of Bellagio in Las Vegas), the trolley, and the various toy shops.

When we awoke on Monday morning the sky was dark and rain poured in torrents. Since the Grove is an outdoor shopping center, we knew there was no chance of going. We talked to the other family, canceling our original plans, and made an alternate plan to enjoy our family time at home. We ended up watching a movie together and taking a short post-nap walk around the block when the rain stopped.

But just when we were planning to get dinner ready, Jackson had a mini-meltdown. "I want to go to the Gwove! When are we going to the Gwove!" I was amazed that he remembered. We didn't mention a word about it once we canceled our plans. "I'm sorry," I told him, "we couldn't go because it was raining this morning. We'll go some other time." He was inconsolable. I realized that he had probably been waiting all day long to go to one of his favorite places. And I felt like this was a dilemma to work through. Ian and I have been wanting to let our no's be no's. We want to be clear with our boundaries and let him know that we can't be manipulated when it's important. But at the same time, we also want Jackson to understand that our yeses mean yes. We want him to know that our words can be trusted.

So Ian and I conferred for a moment and tried to think of a fun indoor place where we could grab a bite to eat. After running through a few options, I had an inspiration. Wasn't Chuck E. Cheese supposed to be heaven on earth for little kids? I didn't know. I had never been there. We did some online sleuthing and made a plan to head down to the nearest location, just 5.4 miles away.

I was a bit overwhelmed when we arrived. Kids everywhere. Games everywhere. Noise. Jackson was so incredibly happy. He ran from activity to activity, calling out to us to come and see what he had found. We ordered our food, got some game tokens, and followed Jackson around feeding tokens to whatever game caught his fancy.

When our dinner arrived we sat down and ate. Ian was looking contemplative, and Jackson's gaze was captured by the flashing lights and buzzing sounds all around us. Kiran was happily sucking her knuckles so I was alone with my thoughts. I couldn't believe I was there. I couldn't believe we just made up an impromptu plan to bring Jackson to a place that many families reserve for very special occasions.

Then Ian piped up. "Did you eat out much when you were a kid?" He was on the same train of thought I was. We both grew up experiencing some financially tough times. Both of us remember having mostly home-cooked meals, with meals out only on special occasions (and only Chinese food and Red Lobster all-you-can-eat crab specials for us). We learned to think of meals out as luxuries and enjoyed them as such. But our current lifestyle hasn't been like that. We eat out quite often - at some pretty nice restaurants. And we enjoy traveling and some of the finer things in life (like massages and spa days).

And so we rejoiced in how blessed we are that an impromptu trip to Chuck E. Cheese can take place without concern to budget. But we desire to also convey gratitude so that our children don't take these things for granted. ...and don't expect that any random day will end up with a trip to Chuck E. Cheese.

Clarice

After Lights Out

I have fond memories of those bedtime moments stolen after lights out but before slumber would arrive.

Before I married Ian, I actually shared a bedroom with a roommate, Cal, who loved philosophizing about everything and nothing as much as I did. We shared many a late night pondering the mysteries of the universe in our shared bedroom.

And I remember sharing a bedroom with two other girls in college. We would giggle about who liked whom and who was dating whom.

And of course there were the nights during church youth retreats where dozens of girls in sleeping bags would whisper their secrets into the darkened ceilings of a communal cabin.

I can even include a short period sharing a room with my younger brother when my grandparents were staying with us. Who knows what we talked about, being separated by gender and 4 years. But I remember significant moments lying in our side-by-side twin beds with only inches of walking space surrounding us, trying to reconcile our separate lives as little league star and honor roll geek.

Such intimate, fun, memorable moments.

I didn't expect to witness my children engaging in such moments until well into the tween years, but it happened last night. Both kids were lying in their beds awaiting slumber, a bit unhappy about being unable to play or be held. Kiran started whimpering from her crib in the corner of the room. Jackson made some funny little sound from across the room. She laughed - that sweet little baby chuckle. That must have encouraged him because he made another little sound. She giggled in response, prompting his own laughing fit. Before long, the two of them were just giggling together. Ian and I just listened from outside their door, enjoying their shared moment. I wanted to grab a videocamera to capture the moment, but I didn't want to miss the moment myself either. So I'll just have to remember the delightful sound of the infant and the toddler sharing a moment of laughter after lights out.

Clarice

What happened to your face?

Last month I went to pick Jackson up from daycare. As I looked across the room, I could see that his cute little face had been marred by some activity during the day. He ran over to greet me. After I hugged him, I asked "What happened to your face, Jackson?" He got very serious at this point. "Mi-ko scwatched me". "You got scratched?" I asked. "Yeah. Mi-ko. He scwatch my face."

No signs of a scratch on his face. But I lifted him up to a mirror so he could see for himself what I was talking about.



"Oh," he said, "I need a towel."

The dry erase board outside his classroom indicated that they had done some painting in the morning. How did he go the whole day looking like that?

Clarice

The "I want" cry

It's been so interesting going through infancy this second time around. We're much more relaxed and comfortable. We're also far more in tune to Kiran's needs than we were to Jackson's in the early days. In fact, a few months ago, Ian and I were bragging about how Kiran didn't cry much. I think we had learned really quickly how to recognize her needs and her way of communicating needs. Up to about 5 months of age, it's pretty simple. They need to eat, to be burped, to sleep, to have their diapers changed, and to be held. That's about it.

Then about a month ago, the honeymoon ended somewhat. She started crying at bedtime. It was so easy before. She would yawn twice, we would put her in her bassinet. If she turned to her right and started sucking her thumb, we knew it was safe to let her fall asleep on her own. If she started crying, we would feed her a bit, then try again. But this crying thing.....

I should have known it was coming. She started getting social around then and looking around for us. I think the crying at bedtime was basically because she didn't want to go to bed. She wanted to be with us. Jackson specialized in this "I don't want to" cry. It was pathetic. He would stand there in his crib and cry at the top of his lungs. But as soon as we walked back in the room, he was all sunshine and smiles. Come to think of it, he still specializes in the "I don't want to" cry. If it's time to wash hands for dinner, or clean up after dinner, or go visit the potty, or get in the bath, or get out of the bath, or change his diaper, or put on his pajamas.... It's a very loud "EEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeehhhhhhhhhh", kind of like the sound you hear when a big rig slows down. It's sometimes accompanied by jumping up and down or a rapid stomping-in-place dance, kinda like what Jennifer Beals did in Flashdance. Once in a while we get the throw-the-body-on-the-floor trick. We know the "I don't want to" cry. It's a part of our life with our stubborn....er, uh...very determined and resolute boy.

But a couple of days ago, Kiran introduced us to something new. She was happily playing with a toy when another infant crawled over and took it out of her hands. She ramped up slowly, then looked at me with a hurt look on her face, and unleashed one of the most heart-rending cries I'd heard from her. The whole room of parents we were visiting with stopped for a moment and stared. It was nothing like an "I need" cry or and "I don't want to" cry. We are now faced with the fact that our little girl has a profoundly manipulative "I want" cry. I guess we're going to have to steel ourselves for life with a little girl.

Clarice

A Dangerous Moment

We've been trying to teach Jackson to be safe. He's not allowed off the sidewalk. He has to hold hands to cross the street. He has to check both ways before we cross. And if there's a car coming, he has to make sure the driver can see him. We've been working so hard at teaching him these street safety rules. Most of the time he remembers these rules.

Well we had a dangerous moment this afternoon. Somehow Jackson ended up riding his tricycle down the middle of the street. Ian just happened to have a camera rolling.



OK. Just kidding. Ian was messing around with greenscreen effects. Funny, huh?

Clarice

Who says dentistry is a boring profession?

This video has gone viral. Over 4 million hits in a week.



Yup. Sometimes we need a little pharmacological assistance to help us treat kids.

Clarice

Legacy

I'm doing a study through the Bible on the word "lead" and I recently read Numbers 2 where the twelve tribes of Israel are assigned camp positions around the tent of meeting. Each tribe is headed by a leader of the sons of the twelve fathers. These twelve patriarchs lived over 400 years prior and yet they passed on family legacies that exist today.

I think about my role as leader of two children of Eyre, my boy Jackson and my girl Kiran, and I think about the other sons and daughters of Eyre and Law and the legacies that have been passed down to my kids through my wife's family and mine. My dad was a lay pastor and his dad was a pastor. Both my parents are prayer warriors and now missionaries. My mom's parents were first generation Christians. Clarice's parents are third generation Christians that originated in small villages in China and Hong Kong. God has blessed our kids with a strong Christian heritage.

As I consider how to pray for Jackson and Kiran and their future children, I wonder exactly how their grandparents and great-grandparents prayed for them. I know that the blessings in my life, the relational riches especially, are a result of the faithful prayers of previous generations.

I desire to only pass on blessings and promise, not generational sins and hang-ups. I desire to teach my children how to follow Jesus Christ with all their hearts, minds, souls and strength. With Christ and the answered prayers of so many before us, Clarice and I can give our kids a great spiritual legacy!

Look who's excited about eating

Here's daddy introducing her to her first "solid" meal. It only took a few spoonfuls before she got the hang of it.

Clarice

It's a great day!

I woke up yesterday a bit melancholic. I've been thinking of how bittersweet it must be for President Bush to be ending his years in office. In the 7 years since 9/11, other countries have had horrific attacks at the hands of terrorists, but we have remained safe. Many on the African continent credit him for contributing more to the fight against HIV/AIDS than any other American President. And Iraq is on its way to democratic freedom. Yet he has endured such vitriol from his critics. Although I have been quite disappointed in many of his decisions, I feel for the guy. And I admire the fact that no matter how vile the criticisms have been, he has not deigned to return tit for tat. He has managed to be rather gracious in how he treats the media and other critics.

The melancholic mood continued as I heard excerpts of Obama's inaugural address. He said many encouraging things, yet at the same time, included many thinly veiled jabs at President Bush. I understood that criticism of Bush was all part of the campaign process, to distinguish how he would bring change. But I didn't think it was necessary in an inaugural address. It just didn't seem Presidential.

So I entered work stewing a bit. But then the first person I encountered was one of my colleagues, who wears his bleeding heart liberal convictions not just on his sleeve, but across his forehead. He was absolutely beaming as he bounced down the hall toward me. "Happy Inauguration Day!" he declared. Taken by surprise, I returned, "It's a historic day," because I truly believed it was. "No," he replied, "It's a GREAT day!" And he continued merrily along his way.

All day I took in the excitement of the people around me, particularly those who are underrepresented minorities in the dental school. And as I took my usual news break at lunch time, I was pleasantly surprised by how positive the conservative blogsphere was about the historicity of this event. And so I started focusing more on the mere fact that this country, which is reported to be hindered in some ways by the stain of slavery, just swore in a black President. I started telling myself that it WAS a great day. Now don't get me wrong. I still have some serious reservations about some of President Obama's policy stances, particularly that of the Freedom of Choice Act. But those reservations are irrelevant to his race. I am hopeful that this moment in history will communicate something significant about the attitudes Americans have about race and that we can start putting the past (and some aspects of the present) behind us to move into the future that this election has hinted at.

At the end of the work day, I made my way down the hall toward my parking lot and heard the familiar jovial greeting of the elderly black gentleman who collects my trash. "Hello Dr Clare," he drawled, as is his habit. "Hello, Mr Jackson. It's a great day, isn't it?" I offered instinctively without stopping to consider to whom I was speaking. "Yes it is," he replied, flashing a demurely triumphant smile. And I was so glad that my greeting had come without pretense.

Clarice

My President

Congrats to Obama on becoming my president. According to Romans 13, God has placed him in this position of authority. I pray for him regularly, especially for his journey as a Christian and his search for a church for his family to worship at in Washington. I pray for his family as they find new friends and community in their new environment. I have many doubts, but I'm also hopeful and expectant, trusting in God foremost and the power of the checks and balances built into our government process to limit the most extreme policies. I will give him the benefit of the doubt because I believe he is teachable and has a desire to let God transform him daily into a person more like His son Jesus. God bless you Mr. President and God bless America.

Bringing in the New Year

Happy New Year!!!

We celebrated the New Year in Atlanta for the third year in a row. Spending New Year's Eve on Eastern Standard Time is always interesting when dealing with a young child. Jackson usually goes to bed around 9:00 PM at home. He also has a hard time with changes in time zones. I don't remember being allowed to stay up to bring in the New Year until I was around 8 or 9 years old. Since Jackson keeps himself on Pacific Time while we visit Ian's parents, he has been up to celebrate the New Year with us every single New Year's Eve of his young life.

We figured we should have some evidence of this feat for posterity.



Clarice