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
Wednesday, April 08, 2009
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
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
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
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
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
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
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
Saturday, February 07, 2009
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
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
Friday, February 06, 2009
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
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!
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!
Thursday, February 05, 2009
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
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
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
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
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
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.
Monday, January 05, 2009
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
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
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
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.
Monday, December 15, 2008
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
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
Sunday, November 23, 2008
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
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
Friday, November 21, 2008
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
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
Saturday, November 15, 2008
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
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
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Quoted at CNN.com
The reporter was looking for an "expert" in children's dentistry. She got my take on Halloween candy.
Clarice
Clarice
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
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
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
Saturday, November 01, 2008
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