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