So, my family is amazing and I love them all.  I know, I know, your family is amazing also, and I completely agree.  I’m not saying my family is better than yours, just simply that mine are amazing.

My Mom and Dad (Grammy and Grampy) have gotten out of their California home several times now and have come to visit us, in Hawaii, England, and here in Japan.  But even though my Dad is from Hawaii, I had to get married to get them to come out for a visit.

Jo’s Mom (GranDee) is world class.  She’s come 3 times to Japan, 2 of those times were to take care of her girl after pushing 2 whoppers out.  Quinn 10 pounds 10 ounces, Kira 9 pounds 12 ounces, both with no drugs. She came to England and even drove on the right side of the road, not the right side but the right side.  Haha, sorry that’s a little bit of humor from us who drive on the left hand side of the road.

Then there’s Joelle’s Dad & Judi (Pop and Grandma Judi), they are supportive in everything we do, they’ve come to visit us wherever we’ve been, but none of these people are the story.

The woman I would like to tell you about tonight isn’t EVEN technically related to us.  She is Joelle’s dad’s wife’s mother (step grandmother???), but she has taken us in and treated us like we are her own.  We keep having kids and she keeps doing these incredible things.   This is not to take anything away from any of the other grandparents and family but this woman is 86 years old and still going strong.  She is Grandma Jones and this is the kind of thing she spends her days doing for my kids.  This arrived two days ago, just in time to be stuffed with goodies for Christmas:

Kira's Stocking

And get this… she has handmade these for ALL of the kids….

Here’s Hannah’s:

Love it

Jake’s…

I love the bowling pins hangin' on by a thread.

And Quinn’s…

My favorite Candy Cane tree decorations.

Wow, is all I can say.  She’s always a delight when we visit, she always makes conversations with the boys and keeps at it until they finally open up to her.  She’s welcomed us into HER family and we are thankful.  We love you Grandma Jones and we are happy to be apart of your family.

Created by Kurt Kuenne, 2008.

I watch a lot of documentaries. Not all of them are well made but I normally learn something anyway. Dear Zachary never feels like one of those “well, it was at least educational” films and even managed to stop my incessant channel surfing one night –it is an amazing portrayal of a very compelling story and possibly the best documentary I’ve seen. The film follows from Andrew Bagby’s murder by his girlfriend, to her pregnancy and the birth of baby Zachary, through the maddening process of two countries’ justice systems, and grandparents who moved themselves to Newfoundland to be near their grandchild (still in his murderer mother’s custody). Along with sorrow and outrage for the people whose lives were devastated by Shirley Turner and inadequate justice, I was left with a profound feeling of respect for the Bagbys and their dedication to their grandson and their son’s memory.
I won’t be forgetting this one.

Official site for Dear Zachary (includes information about their fight for bail reform)

I have been away for a bit waiting for the arrival of my new grandchild.

That blessed event took place yesterday, 6, July, 2008 at 3:39 p.m. (pst). Welcome to the world: My little Cancer grandson, weighing in at 7lb, 2oz with a length of 20″. Congratulations to the proud parents! Congratulations, my loves!!!

Over the past few days I have had time to think of the differences of being the one in labor and being the one concerned watching the labor progress. Both are difficult. My heart aches as they experienced difficulties, in particular, their truck was vandalized at the hospital. My son calling me in anger trying to keep calm for his wife. I listening allowing him to vent so that he can go back into the hospital with calmness in his soul.

I am so proud of both of them. My son for his strength and my daughter-n-law for her strength going through a long and difficult labor. The challenges behind them, this morning they can hold in amazement the angel that has been placed in their care!

Grandma loves you, Ryder and welcomes you to my family!!

To all new parents and grandparents – congratulations!

We have forgone The North this Christmas season for The South and for Grandparents. Thanks to these elderly (haha, I mean spry) miracles of nature, we are going out to dinner and a movie tonight and it’s not complicated or being charged to our Visa.

While you would think I would have more time to blog here, there is a real live guinea pig sitting behind me to my right and holy cow, if I do not help James feed the thing another head of lettuce, I am headed straight for a big fat mama demerit. I am this close to losing my license.

I will post a few pictures and/or humorous anecdotes soon. In the meantime, I wish you merry yuletides.

If this blog is about recording meaningful moments that happen in our family so that we can enjoy them after the memory has faded, then I would be remiss if I did not write about our weekend visit from Nate’s parents.  About two weeks ago they came to our home to spend some time with us and be eyewitnesses to our children’s Christmas program performance.  Often times, due to home and work responsibilities, our visits with them are about 24 hours – a night and part of a day.  This visit was a whole weekend, and the kids packed many memory making moments into those two days.

First off, they came bearing gifts.  They had some special pre-Christmas presents for our family that they were very excited about us opening.  The first gift was a JOY yard sign that was handmade by Walt.  I have yet to get a picture of this, but it is really neat.  Each letter is about 3 feet tall and stands alone.  The “O” has a nativity scene cut into its shape.  Walt painted each letter red and the nativity scene white and gave it to us with a light to illuminate it at night.  Linda remarked that she heard said that every Christian who is concerned about nativity scenes being removed from public places should place one in their own yard.  I think that is a good point, one that should be taken beyond nativity scenes.  Possibly Christians should be less vocal about every way our society is marginalizing us and more active in proclaiming the message of Christ through our own lives and our own families.

Preparing the “O” of the JOY sign to go outside

Saturday morning we awoke to Grandpa’s famous pancakes.  These pancakes are actually more like a crepe and are paper thin, making it possible to eat about 20 of them without feeling guilty.  We put a little butter and syrup (or a lot in my case) on them and then roll them up, thus the name the kids call them: roll-up pancakes. 

Later in the day the kids opened another early Christmas present from Grandpa and Grandma – a 500 piece Christmas puzzle, which they promptly began working on.  We are waiting on them to return so the puzzle can be finished, because that was another thing I did not make time for in my Christmas preparation schedule. 

The afternoon was spent working on the puzzle, reading together, playing games, and napping.  Lydia and Grandma also made us all some no-bake cookies.

After a nap Lydia, Grandpa and Grandma bundled up and went outside for a long walk.  Grandpa turned it into an exploration adventure and Lydia brought home an armful of discoveries; rocks, soybean kernels, and corn cobs.  The kinds of things that Grandpas and little kids think are cool.

Sunday was the day of the big program, and I think there were a couple of proud grandparents sitting in the congregation.  I know there were a couple of happy kids who knew their grandparents were there to watch them.

After enjoying a Sunday dinner together, Walt and Linda had to be on their way home.  Our family is looking forward to a trip out their way in a few days that I am sure will be loaded with lots more memories.  Here is a big “thank you” to Walt and Linda for the love and attention they give our children.  Even though they live a few hours away, they have invested in our children in priceless ways.  Because of that, the distance in miles between us is not related to the connection between grandchild and grandparent.

Rob Schneider protects himself in the prison rape comedy Big Stan. One of the prison gangs in the movie are "the scientologists" (seen in back), just to give you an idea of this movie's character.

About a month ago my wife and mother-in-law came home after seeing a movie. I asked them what they went to see and my wife described it as the movie “where the guy needs to learn how to protect himself so he doesn’t get raped in prison. It was hilarious!”

I then asked what my religious, conservative mother-in-law thought about the movie, expecting the worst. “She was laughing just as much I was,” my wife said. A few minutes later I asked my mother-in-law how the movie was and she said it was “silly” and then giggled.

So what the hell is this movie I wondered. I went online to see what it was and it was called “A Prueba de los Hombres” in spanish. I think this translates directly to “Trying the Men,” but more accurately is something along the lines of “Giving Proof to the Men.” Aside from the name, I saw that the movie was directed by and starred Rob Schneider– this gave me a much better impression of what kind of movie it was.

I also found out the movie was originally called “Big Stan” in english. What’s funny is that this movie went straight to DVD in the U.S., but was released in the theaters here in Peru. Go figure how that decision gets made.

After acquiring a DVD of the movie, I finally watched it last night. I wanted to see what all the laughing was about. It’s exactly as simplistic as my wife described it.

The movie begins with Rob Schneider playing a con-artist who sells real estate to suckers. He gets caught and subsequently sentenced to prison. His crooked lawyer successfully bribes the judge, allowing Schneider’s character 6 months of freedom before he must report to prison. This gives our hero ample time to prepare for what he views as the ultimate danger of prison: getting raped. He enlists David Carradine as his trainer, and gets ready to protect himself from would-be assailants.

So can you make a full-length comedic movie about prison rape? Yes you can.

While I can’t really say that Big Stan was an incredible movie, I will admit that I laughed a considerable amount. The whole time I was also thinking about why it is that we often suspect our more conservative friends and relatives will be offended by silly movies and sexual jokes.

The best answer I can come up with is that we often forget that everyone is human and that sex is something that almost everyone thinks about even if they never choose to talk about it. I recall during one trip to visit my grandparents, it was just me and my grandpa watching tv. The only thing that was worth watching was the movie Naked Gun 2 1/2. If you aren’t familiar with this movie, it is full of raunchy jokes.

I knew it was a bit daring to make this viewing choice, and started to squirm a little bit during some particularly tasteless sexual jokes. What took place for the next hour and a half or so was amazing. I have never seen my grandpa laugh so hard in his life. I can still see him sitting in his recliner chair with his head tilted back trying to hold back tears from laughing so hard.

Now that I’ve seen Big Stan I realize that it was actually a lot tamer and less offensive than I thought it would be. Most people are willing to accept that rape happens in prison. As the movie is sure to make clear, it occurs (mostly) as an act of violence rather than sexuality. I’m sure it’s a movie that my wife and mother-in-law would have never planned to go see. But they saw it on a whim, and it turned out to be really fun for them.

I guess for me it’s a good reminder that people are always much more complicated and hard to predict than you think they would be.

It took just a few days, but I think that I’ve already become bored at home, which means that it’ll be time to get back to my apartment. Luckily, I have a few interesting side projects to work on:

1. Legal research regarding self-defense as it relates to sexual assault and the differences (if any) between defenses to spousal assault vs. non-spousal assault.
2. A fund-raiser for Lawyers Without Borders

In the meantime, friends have come home! It’s already proven to be an eventful break.

Immediately after finals, I partook in the not-so-subtly concealed vodka I had, grabbed some food and went out drinking. I was wearing a suit, and it just so happened that the bar that we ended up going to was also hosting some kind of office Christmas party. Thanks to my dapper attire, I managed to get their 75% discount on drinks. Spectacular, except that it led to…

I can’t account for about 3 hours. I left that bar in a taxi and came back in a taxi but, for the life of me, I can’t recall what happened in those 3 hours. All I know is that I came back with my shirt unbuttoned and my tie in my pocket. No one can fill in any details. When I came back, though, I saw everything I needed to see to cap off my night: Beardso McGrundleton, 5 o’clock shadow still painted, neat as ever, on his face, standing alone at the bar at the end of the night. I was told by a friend that he had been hitting on, and had gotten rejected by, the same girl continually all night. Schadenfreude, you warm my heart.

…

LF visited! I made sweet potato and chicken quesadillas and they were everything I thought they would be. We caught up on Friday Night Lights and Jersey Shore and memories and it was just lovely. And now even more friends are coming home from inconveniently placed locales and it makes up, almost entirely, for the unsettling onset of winter.

…

I got terribly excited when, while standing in the bathroom, I stepped on something warm and squishy with my bare foot. I should explain that my chihuahua, when she was with us, was mostly paper trained. But, if no paper was available (or all the time as she got older), she just crapped on anything that wasn’t the floor. And then, eventually, anywhere. So, I got excited for the briefest moment until I realized that what I stepped on was only a wet bath mat.

…

I can’t help but feel, every time I pass the new construction of 1 World Trade Center adjacent to the vacant, concrete footprint of the Twin Towers, that they’re building a tombstone next to an open grave.

…

I visited my grandparents today. I continually feel guilty that my hold on the Russian language isn’t strong enough to fully grasp and internalize all of the stories that my grandparents have for me. I find it odd, also, that the political discussions that I have with them are never as vitriolic as the ones that I have with my parents.

And my heart breaks a little more each time my grandmother asks me a question that I answered just seconds prior.

My dad and Cheryl came on December 19th for our Christmas with them. They brought along Riley, Cheryl’s new baby. He is a lil fluff ball Shih-Tzu. Dexter was so excited to have Riley come to visit. It was adorable to watch them play. Dexter got a bit irritated after a while as Riley was invading his ‘personal’ space!! [if you get my meaning]

So, as you can see, Dexter finally took control. It was the best laugh I have had in a loooong time!! And they both slept very well that night! lol

Now, on to the day. We all went to ‘Olive Garden’ for lunch, and it was amazing! I’m not supposed to do bread, but hey, it’s a special occasion…Right?!! I also had a Cosmo, so yummy. Don’t be hatin’! lol We all ate waaay too much and had a big ‘people’ bag to bring home. I did some flip video of the lunch and as soon as I edit will add it.

Now the best part…I got a pair of chestnut UGG Classics!! My favorite boots of all time!! They keep your feet warm in winter, and cool in summer. Which is awesome for someone who hates to wear socks! No socks needed with UGGs!! All in all it was a very ‘good’ day in the life of me!! I have awesome parental units. I also must note, I have the BEST step-parental unit as well. I am very blessed with my whole family!!

The daddy n me!

Happiest of Holidays to all!!!

Blessings and hope…

]]> http://caroldodell.wordpress.com/2009/12/22/multigenerational-families-coming-together-how-to-really-be-with-your-family/ Tue, 22 Dec 2009 16:25:44 +0000 caroldodell http://caroldodell.wordpress.com/2009/12/22/multigenerational-families-coming-together-how-to-really-be-with-your-family/

Holidays, birthdays, other celebrations when you’re having your grandparents, in-laws, teens, college kids, dates, toddlers, spouses and sometimes ex-spouses all under one roof–it can make you feel like you”re a lion tamer and you never know when one’s going to take a swipe at you.  You may be the primary caregiver, or the out-of-town sister, the peacemaker, the black sheep, or even feel like you’re the one who gets lost in the crowd. Families often bring out the worst in us, even when we’re really trying to be on our best behavior. So how do we come together–multigenerational famileis –and  really be together in meaningful ways?

How to Really Be with Your Family:

• Be yourself. You don’t have to be rude and crude, but also try not to put on a front. Let them love you for who you are–warts and all. If they rib you a bit too much, say, “Hey guys, that hurts. Please don’t kid about that.” But go ahead and be who you are. It’s our quirks, our vulnerabilities, our oddness that makes us unique. So what if you’re divorced–again, if you’re gay, if you have a reputation for drinking a bit too much eggnog or if your housekeeping skills (or lack thereof are legendary) Let them talk. In the end, it’s better just to be yourself. When you like you–everybody else falls in line.
• Embrace your wild and crazy relatives! While you’re with your family, decide to be with you family. No iPhones, Blackberries, Facebooks. Be present. Give smelly Aunt Gladys and great big hug and make her day. Don’t fuss about the 1,000 calorie casserole–eat a spoonful and enjoy it–or eat the whole thing and don’t worry about it. Sit among your aunts, uncles, ex’s, kids, grandparents and feel the connection you have–the DNA cocktail that connects you–for better or worse–and accept them as part of you.
• Decide right now not to let anyone push your buttons. If you know someone really like to zero in and dig at you–then don’t hang out with that person. Get up and move. Ask someone to take stroll around the block, play chess with your dad. If you get cornered and they start in on you, open your arms and give them a big hug and say Merry Christmas and then walk away–even if they’re still going at it! And remember, if a good ole’ family fight breaks out, it’s par for the course and will give you something to talk about in years to come!
• Do something together–play a game, charades, start singing some Carols, play Scene It or Wii. Pitch in and wash dishes so mom doesn’t have to. Or find someone who’s all alone–and sit with them–you may be surprised that they really do have a lot to say.  We tend to fight and nit-pick a lot less when we’re engaged, when our hands are occupied.
• Find someone to give to. Look for opportunities to give–maybe your grandmother has Alzheimer’s. Get out an old album and look at each picture with her. Many times their memories go deep and you’ll find a connection, something  or someone from long ago. If your dad’s caregiving your mom, then hire respite care and take him off for the afternoon–to a car show or an indoor shooting range, or to do a little shopping.  The gift of your time and ability to touch someone’s life is the best gift you have to offer.
• Put a time limit on your visit. If you have one of those families that things get ugly as the night wears on, then set a timer on your phone and leave before the werewolves come out to play. It’s better to be with your family for three hours–and then leave with good memories–rather than stay for eight hours and see the ugly side emerge. You’re also sending an important message–that you don’t have to subject yourself to verbal abuse and people acting in ways that are hurtful to themselves and others.
• If your family gathering is at your house, then take a few “smoke” breaks. You know how smokers sneak out about every two hours and sit outside for ten minutes in the quiet? Who says we need to smoke to take a smoke break! About every two hours, slip outside. Bundle up and take a short walk. Go to your room and take a ten minute nap. Being together doesn’t mean you can’t get away and decompress. Trust me, if you step out for just a few minutes, you’ll come back refreshed.
• Look for a “God moment.” That’s what I call that one special moment during the season when I feel the true essence of the holiday spirit. I’ve come to expect that holy sacred time to emerge when I least expect it. Sometimes it’s a random act of kindness from a stranger, other times it’s a red cardinal that lands on a frozen bird bath, or a child’s hug that simply takes my breath. We get what we ask for–and if you come to expect life to delight and surprise you, it will.

Yeah, our families can drive us crazy–but we love them, too. Love them for who they are. Be yourself and come together with all your edges, your oddness, your hurts–and spend just a few hours really being with your family. Then leave- with those new memories safely tucked away-before things go amuck!

You know how people come up with various cutie words to call their kids? Hardly people call their kids by their actual names. I remember when my cousin took her kid for the school interview, she was asked ‘How do you correct your child when she is doing something wrong?’ She replied, I usually call her ‘cutie name’ but when I’m angry I call her ‘real name’. So true!!! So, we have a family of really creative people, who use lot of weird sounding terms to call Siddharth. I guarantee the rest of the post will not make much sense to you, but I’m writing it anyways, so maybe when Sid grows up he can read this and have a hearty laugh (or scorn at the kind of family he got!)

So my FIL calls Sid ‘kogudu thimmu’ ..apparently that’s some kind of dada (mini-dawood maybe) in Karnataka and he was referring to Sid being a rowdy like that and then the name just stuck.

My dad on the other extreme calls him ‘Krishna’, maybe he thinks Sid is some kind of avatar.

My mom used to call him ‘naikkutty’ for a long time, but now she and the rest of us have stuck to ‘Sidhu’ or ‘chidhu’.

As for me, I call him gummi, gumli, pattani (stole from hubby), amlu, …hmm…cant remember the rest now…but the list is long, trust me!

 We’re also a family of lyricists and music directors. So, we have come up with family songs to sing to Sid. I think if our family ever gets split like it happens in the double role hero movies, we could really put one of these songs to good use!

 Here goes one by my FIL.. ‘ingu kuchiniya, nee thathava adchiniya’  (roughly translated as you drank all the milk and beat up thatha)

There are remix versions of the above as well.. so the above lines would adapt to the tune of one of the popular movie songs, depending on whatever is the craze at that time. 

Hubby came up with this one whenever he wants to let a clinging Sid down on the floor..he used to sing this so many times that my mom threatened she would not play the babysitter if he sings this even one more time!

‘podungada siddhuva dhoppu, podungada siddhuva dhoppu, dhoppu, dhoppu’ (meaning, lets put Sid down in crude language! )

 Inspired by me calling Sid as gummi, hubby came up with this one..

‘nakki gummiya nee, thuppi gummiya … illave ille..nee gumikka gummi’ (And for God’s sake I cant translate this one, since it really makes no sense whatsoever, but is my favorite)

 If you are thinking we ‘re one bunch of lunatics, you may be very well right, but Sid has to make do with this bunch If you come home sometime, we can actually sing one of these family anthems for you

So I didn’t do too much today. Spent most of it watching my stats and trying to figure out where I could comment to improve them. I did a light bit of surfing and then got bored (my attention span is shot to hell) so I went to play a random game online. As soon as I  had I gotten involved in the game my dad tells us we need to leave. We went to have dinner with my grandparents who were spent the night trying to get a laugh out of my sister and I. You might recall how they said they were canceling all family get-togethers last month? Well that’s been revoked. They’re having a Christmas dinner at their house like normal except they’re having it Christmas day instead of Christmas Eve. Which is so bizarre; what is changing the date by one day going to do? My sister and I won’t be having dinner with them though because we have to go back to our moms on Christmas Eve. Hence the reason for the dinner with our grandparents tonight. They kept us laughing most of the evening, the quite times filled with delicious food. After we finished we came home, my dad lit a fire, and my sister went to my aunts. A pretty normal day all in all.

How to take pictures like a professional (or, in this case, my grandfather):

1)   Take about twenty steps back from your subject.

2)   Not far enough yet. Are you in shouting distance? You’re probably too close. Take few more steps back, just to make absolutely sure you get their ENTIRE body in the picture.

3)   Assume the shooter’s stance: spread your feet, dip your knees, lock your hips. This will help you retain balance in the event that the earth begins to quake violently beneath you.

4)   Gaze over the top of the LCD. If your desired subject takes up more than 1/10^th of the screen, or if you can distinctly make out any facial features (eyes, nose, mouth) you’re too close. Back to step 1.

5)   Depress shutter button.

6)   Inspect LCD.

7)   Let out a confident laugh. How could you have ever doubted this photo’s greatness in the first place?

8)   Congratulate yourself on another masterpiece.

If I am anything, I am honest (many would say to the point of being brutally so). This is why I feel compelled to inform you, dear reader, that when I began this blog I was expecting it to become a daily affair with postings so regular you could set your watch to them. Those who have been here since the beginning (those who haven’t are invited to scroll down and pretend) know that I managed to adhere to this rigorous schedule for approximately… two posts.

I attribute this to the fact that my life currently has no interest in structuring itself in a manner conducive to routines. Technically this is partially (entirely) my fault but I’ve found that blaming personal shortcomings like a lack of self-discipline on completely ambiguous and questionably related concepts such as “life,” “the universe” and “unfortunate byproduct of manifest destiny” makes me feel a whole lot better about them.

What I’m trying to say is that somewhere in the two obtusely worded paragraphs above you will find what is supposed to be a form of apology, or as close as I’ll ever get to making one, anyway. I’ll try to do better in the future — which will have to be tomorrow, because I am off to unleash the horror that is my Coldwater Creek Christmas Sweater.

Happy Holidays!

Why bother making a schedule? Things happen; life happens. You can plan and plan the day but good luck having it work out.

Kashi Honey Almond Flax

I ended up being hungry before lunch–not planned because I never am? I thought this bar, which I’ve enjoyed before, would be nice. After eating it and thinking it was unusually stale and nasty, I realized it expired 2 months ago. Since when do things like this even expire? It was odd, to say the least.

While I was off-schedule anyway, I thought I’d get a head start on my baking. I planned on making this recipe with a bunch of little changes that I wrote up here. As it turned out, we had no flour. Really? I planned and planned for this and went to the store twice to get ingredients and never thought to check for flour? Ugh. After freaking out for about 5 minutes I decided to enlist help.

Red Dodge Neon

I called my 81 year old grandmother for a ride; if you see this card on the road ever, you might want to be a little careful. Actually, she’s not an awful driver, but I was holding on a little tight. She was happy to take me to Hannafords(she needed scratch tickets anyway, don’t ya know ). While I was in her car I noticed two things.

Purple Steering Wheel

She has pizazz apparently. 3 years ago at Christmas, this steering wheel cover caused a heated argument during yankee swap; no one wanted it except the old people so that’s who it went to.

Wendy's Kids Meal Map

I also found kid’s meal stuff in the back seat. My grandmother and her 80 year old sister are the only two people who go on this car. Apparently, they’re not above ordering off the kid’s menu on their way to the casino. Oh, to be old…

King Arthur's White Whole Wheat Flour

I grabbed what I needed, and that was all. After I got home, I realized I was borderline hangry because it was almost 2pm(so not on schedule) and all I’d had for “lunch” was that expired granola bar. After a kitchen failure with 2 eggs and a pan, I made this masterpiece.

2 Egg Omelet With Broccoli

Seriously, this was so good; I think I tapped in to my inner “chef”. As I’ve said before, I’m a baker who loves precise times and measurements. Therefore, “meal” food doesn’t work well with me. I put that mindset aside, put “a lil’ earth balance” in the pan to melt, cooked the bottome of the egg “until it looked ready”, added the cheese and folded. It was so beautifully runny and rich and cheesy, just the way eggs should be. Maybe I do have a lil’ chef in me? In my attempt to get back on schedule, I quickly got working on the recipe.

Browning Earth Balance Butter

That would be 10 tablespoons of earth balance(original recipe calls for real butter) melting until brown and nutty. Amazingly, this wasn’t a Paula Dean recipe, either, but one featured on Healthy Eats. I actually think this might have been my favorite part; something about a large pool of melted, fragrant butter… *drool*. Anyway, while I was doing this I spotted some old friends.

Wild Turkey

There’s a group of 20something wild turkeys that live in our neighborhood. Naturally, I was nervous since I haven’t seen them since Thanksgiving. Turns out, they’re doing just fine in this snow.

The Beaters

There was definitely some licking of the raw dough with this recipe. No, it was not vegan, but I’ll take my chances on the raw eggs. Ever since I’ve seen documentaries on body builders who eat 6 eggs or something crazy to start their day, I’ve been a bit balls-to-the-wall with raw dough. I’m a wild man, right?

Peanut Butter And Chocolate Biscotti

The biscotti came out amazingly(minus the 6 or so that crumbled in to pieces). This recipe was definitely a winner with a little reworking. While I was baking, I got some fun packages.

NuttZo T-Shirt

The people at NuttZo saw I was a nut for their product and sent me a shirt! I’m such a brandaholic; I was actually wearing my zevia t-shirt just today, haha. I think I need to wear on Christmas just to kick off that conversation. And perfect timing because I just wrote a review for NuttZo this morning here.

Nature's Path Granola And Bars

I also got these awesome granola and bars. 2 weeks ago I was their “fan of the week” on facebook and got to pick out 3 products to get 2 boxes of. Naturally, I went for everything peanut butter or cherry. I’ve never tried any of these so I can’t wait to see how they are. Once the biscotti were done, I didn’t want to dive in to them because I wasn’t sure there’s enough for Christmas Eve and Christmas yet. Instead, I made some similar oatmeal.

Oatmeal With Teddy Unsalted Natural Peanut Butter And Chocolate Chips

I picked up this new peanut butter yesterday at Price Chopper while working on a guest post. It’s rated really better than most other brands. And it’s 1-ingredient: peanut. I needed to see what the fuss is about. I admit, for something unsalted this was rather tasty and had a good consistency(not “oily” at all yet still smooth and melty). I don’t know that it deserves the rating it does but it was pretty cheap, too, so I’m not complaining.

Let’s just say “workouts” at this point are definitely a point of contention; I don’t plan on forcing myself to do too much strengthening if it’s not what I want(I’m a cardio lover at heart), but I also don’t want to completely fall off the ladder. I resolved this by playing 2 rounds of wii tennis, 1 wii fitness test, and 2 sets of 25 stair flights. This also gave me time to plan dinner, which I had going before my mom got home.

Sirloin Roast, Roasted Brussels, Noggy Butternut Squash

Let’s just say, I couldn’t have dreamed this up better. It was soooooo good, and everyone enjoyed it I think, which makes me doubly happy. In ordinance with my “new plan” towards meat, I portioned out 3oz of rare meat, and loaded up on the vegetables. The meat was so excellent, and I think limiting that amount was just perfect in also letting me appreciate what I did have. I had in mind to mash butternut squash with 1/4 cup Silk Nog and some stevia to taste and my parents loved it(my mom thought it needed 2 tablespoons of brandy, haha). It was really earthy and delicious.

After all that, I finally got a chance to sit down and finish Days(which I started 3 hours ago). Now that Caitlin has reminded me via twitter that I have instant chocolate pudding in the pantry, I think you can guess what I’ll be “making”.

I love Christmas. There’s of course the wonderful story that An Important Baby was born on this day (named Jesus who happened to be the Son of God. This for the one or two of you who’ve lived on another planet and are not familiar with it)

So that’s what we should be celebrating. And on the day itself I will remember that. Right now I’m in a frenzy of shopping, cleaning and organizing. Not that long ago I was informed by  our offspring  that not only has he found a  wonderful new girlfriend, but also a baby-boy. So now I’m a grandmother as well as a future-mother-in-law.

After shouting from the rooftops that I was not ready to be a grandmother for at least 10 years, the moment I saw my grandson I completely forgot what I’d been saying all those years and instantly loved this 3 year old. And no, he’s not my son’s child. But that doesn’t matter.

You see, love is a funny thing. Life is a funny thing. Sometimes you ask for one thing but get so much more. We always thought that our son would find a girl, get married, and then (after lets say at least 10 years or so ) a baby would arrive. Now we’re blessed with not only a great daughter but also a lovely grand child, who we can love and see grow up.

With Christmas just around the corner I’m going a bit crazy in the toy-section of the department stores. Bright red fire trucks, plastic boats, buckets and spades for the sand pit. After years of not having to buy something for little kids I find myself wandering around the isles, together with other grand parents. We all nod and smile at each other in passing; they can see that I’m a newbee at grand parenting and want me to feel welcome perhaps. Surprisingly not a lot have blue rinses. Most of them are my age.

So that’s what being a grandparent is all about. Just loving the child, unconditionally.Accepting the child, unconditionally. And come Christmas it will be great to have not only adults but also a little one around.

I feel that I’ve already received my present.

how nico naps, originally uploaded by jess b clementine.

here nico naps with papa, looking quite content. how i love a papa who willingly lets his grandbaby nap on his chest for hours at a time. this same man is outside right now replacing the house siding by hand and cursing at his tools, a christmas story-dad style. his hammering is actually keeping the baby awake today, but i love him anyway.

On this day four months ago, I embraced my family and best friends the last time. It was a brief but nonetheless an emotional farewell. Only nine hours later, after a turbulent landing approach at JFK airport, I set foot on American soil and was welcomed heartily by my grandparents. Now, merely a giant leap divides the old world and the new world. My new world.

These four months passed rapidly. On the first day after my arrival deeply green leaves adorned the trees in Connecticut. The same hurricane force winds, which exacerbated the landing procedure, formed high waves along the East Coast. Life guards were marching down the beach and notified us that we weren’t allowed to enter the water. That didn’t prevent some surfers of defying the orders and enjoying the unique waves.

Two months later, after driving up from our brief stay in Florida, the temperatures dropped and the trees commenced their colorful spectacle. A variety of colors: yellow, orange, red and some purple gradually superseded the greenish leaves. Fall had finally arrived in New England. The prettiest time in the north east. Not just because Mother Nature changes its natural facades. No, it is also the season of the National Football League.

Precipitation and cloudy days damped the vivid colors of the trees. And for not too long winds and rain casts whipped and scattered the leaves down to the ground. The remnant of leaves in the trees as well as the fallen ones started to spoil. Like apples cut in half and left alone.

Soon the trees were bare of any covering and showed their barren nakedness. Not so the lawn of my grandparents. The turf was entirely covered with dull colored foliage. It somehow reminded me of the aftermath of a carnival party. Streets filled with confetti.

The property of my g’parents includes 5.5 or more acres (2.2 hectares) of woods and about one and a half acres (0.6 ha) of lawn. My grandfather, Fred, explained that if you let a sheet of leaves on your lawn over the winter, snow will add another layer and thereby smother the grass and annihilate it. And you don’t want that to happen. Of course not.

The following days – four days to be exact – were reserved to clear the turf. Blowing, raking and hauling seas of leaves into the woods. If you want to punish your children send them to my grandparents next year. And believe me, hard labor will be conducted. By the way, did I say how lovable and amiable my grandparents are? I guess now is the right time.

Today everything is covered in snow and the backyard seems pristine and I’m glad that I don’t need to shovel the snow off the grass.

Backyard 1

Backyard 2

Backyard 3

Being a single parent is tough enough but when the holidays come around, it’s a tad bit tougher.  It’s this time of year when the questions get asked….where’s my daddy, why can’t my daddy be here for Christmas, why aren’t we a family, why can’t we live together??  Going out shopping and seeing families waiting in line to see Santa hits home for my daughter.  It makes her wish that her dad and I were still together and in a stealthy way she makes it clear to both of us.  She always makes the comment – I want to live with my dad…and I reply with, “you don’t want to live with me?”  and she responds with, “yes, I want you to live with me and my dad.”  She makes the same comments to him when she sees him. 

A while back we had a sleep over and the little girl asked my daughter where her dad was and my daughter responded that he has his own house and that my mom and dad don’t love each other anymore.  Ouch!  So, I tried to explain the whole love versus in love concept to her…but it didn’t quite work out.  How do you explain to your child why you aren’t together? 

With regard to the holiday itself – how does that work exactly?  For the last four years, we have spent Thanksgiving and Christmas with my family.  This year we spent Thanksgiving by ourselves and Christmas will be spent with his family….with me in attendance.  I have a pretty good relationship with his family, so it wouldn’t be uncomfortable for me to be there with them.  We speak regularly and his sister’s kids and my daughter love hanging out together. 

Unfortunately, my parents feel a bit cited by the fact that we’re not spending the holiday with them, but I feel like they’ve had four years with her and his family hasn’t had any.  Where do you find the balance?  Not being from this country with most of my family living in Germany, my parents only have their kids to share the holiday’s with and this year they will be alone. 

I feel very fortunate that I have both families who love and adore my daughter, some people aren’t so lucky and are truly on their own in that regard.  Prior to me moving to Atlanta, I was in a situation where I had absolutely no support since my parents lived eight hours away and her dad was even further away in Colorado.  Luckily, she was only one at the time, so she didn’t realize the difference – but if it happened present-day, it would have a lasting impact on her life, which is why I do my best to maintain a great relationship with everyone.  I feel that everyone in her life is a vital component to making her into the woman she will become.

Seeing as we’re only in Week 5, we haven’t told a ton of people yet. We’ve told our respective mothers, siblings, and T’s grandmother. We’ve also told a few close friends, who knew that we had been for an insemination and might’ve wondered how it all panned out. Otherwise, though, we’re planning to wait until the end of the first trimester before telling more people in general.

Telling our moms and my dad was insane.  T’s mom was thrilled, as was mine. My dad, who lives down here in Barbados, was super-thrilled too.  All three of them are very enthusiastic about the prospect of having a grandchild, which feels great. T and I are both excited about our child knowing his/her grandparents, and are confident that they will all be so loving and supportive. It’s a really great situation.

I grew up with grandparents who lived far away: Mom’s parents in L.A. and Connecticut, and Dad’s mother lived in England.  Both my mom’s bio parents have since died (Grandma very recently, I’m still grieving her loss), while my living (step-)grandpa still lives in L.A.  My dad’s mum died when I was quite little, and I never knew her very well.

T grew up near her grandparents and saw them quite regularly, and even if she didn’t – they weren’t too far away. In fact, she lived near most of her relatives in Southwestern Ontario whereas I grew up in Toronto with immigrant parents, and had very few relatives nearby.

I love the thought of our kids having the opportunity to grow up close to our parents and brothers. Even though Dad lives in Barbados, it is only for half the year, and the other half he lives in Ontario.  Being teachers and having summers off means there will be lots of opportunity to spend time with my dad.

I asked dad a couple of years ago what he would want to be called by his grandchild, if he were to have one. He looked at me like I was crazy and answered: his first name. Typical

My mom would like to be known as Baba, which is what she called her grandmother, with whom she was very close.  Baba was Lithuanian, as is my mom by heritage (though she was raised in the U.S.), and so “Baba” has Baltic origins, in this case. As for T’s mom – I’m not sure, though ‘Grandma’ is the word used in her family, so perhaps that will be her preference.

When I called my mom (“Baba”) to tell her the news, it was the very day we found out. She was excited… then really excited.  The first thing she asked me was, “Oh, it’s too early to buy anything for the baby, right?”  Yes, Mom. I also told her that we were keeping a low profile on the news, as it was very early days and we didn’t want to be premature about telling everyone. She said she completely understood.

I also told her there would be rules. Rules about what to buy, that sort of thing. T and I live in a relatively small space – a 1 1/2 bedroom apartment, really – and the “1/2″ will be the baby’s room. Our bedroom consists of a bed, dresser, and micro-closet. There is about 2 feet space on the left, right and bottom ends of the bed. The remaining storage is in our unfinished, low-ceilinged basement.  These living factors make it extra-important that we keep collected items to a minimum. I know I sound super-uptight here, but you have to understand that I’ve spent the last 10 years trying to undo my pack-rat tendencies. It feels good – liberating!  So we want to stick with the basics when it comes to baby stuff.

The day after we told our moms, we drove to the pretty town about an hour and a half from Toronto, where T’s mom (“Grandma”) lives. Each year, in December, the non-profit she works for holds a community Christmas dinner and we attend. Seeing as we’d be in Barbados over Christmas this year, this was our opportunity to share a meal and exchange gifts with Grandma.

We arrived at her home and began by exchanging gifts. I opened a beautiful scarf, T a pair of comfy yoga pants. T’s next gift, much to my surprise, was a sleeper set. A baby sleeper set. A red sleeper set with a Christmas motif and matching little baby cap with tiny plush antlers.

Grandma was already buying outfits for baby’s first Christmas. My heart skipped a couple of beats and I’ll admit I was a bit shocked. Grandma, on the other hand, was beaming a huuuuuge smile and had moved on to eyeing the gift I was unwrapping – which, of course, was a teething ring. T’s next gift? A sweet little board book about love (for baby, of course).

Less than 24 hours after discovering we were pregnant, Grandma had already been shopping. I’ve already mentioned that she’d had a prayer vision, and felt she knew the pregnancy was imminent. So perhaps it’s not all that surprising.

When we arrived at the dining hall, many members of her work community where there. I quietly asked T if she’d asked her mom to keep things on the down-low for awhile, and she answered in the affirmative. No sooner were the words out of her mouth that Grandma was introducing us to some volunteers, “These are my daughters, T and Amy,” followed by the outburst, “And I’m going to be a Grandma!“

My eyes boggled out of my head. My jaw hit the floor. I looked to T who looked equally shocked and she just shrugged at me. She turned to her mom and said, “Mom, didn’t I mention that we’re kind of keeping it quiet for now?”  I don’t think Grandma had absorbed that tidbit, because she went on to tell us that she’d already told ‘everyone’ -  and we spent the rest of the evening being congratulated by various strangers. I’ll admit it was very sweet. Plus, we don’t really know anyone from Grandma’s town, so the chances of the news going anywhere are pretty slim.

I’ll also admit that I’m very happy that Grandma isn’t on facebook, or it’d be a different story.

I was tagged by Just A Mom over at The Eyes In The Back Of My Head for this holiday meme.

The Twelve days of Christmas have been celebrated since medieval times ~ traditionally beginning the day after Christmas Day (now known as Boxing Day) and ending on the Twelfth Night.  And since the festive season is upon us ~ I thought it might be fun to do a Christmas meme!

Rules:

1. Copy the delightful Chrismouse picture to your post.
2. Copy these rules and the explanation of the meme (above).
3. Link the person who tagged you.
4. List 12 things: either about a Christmas present or memories about Christmas past (or a mixture of both)
5. Tag as many or as few people as you like!

If you are reading this then you are hereby tagged!

1. When I got to be a certain age and was questioning the realness of Mr. Claus, my mom and dad had a guy my dad worked with come over to our house on Christmas Eve dressed as Santa. He gave my sister and I gifts from his bag and kept me believing in the magic of Santa for another year or two. Thanks mom and dad!

2. When I was growing up, neither of my parents could cook worth a hoot. My dad was convinced that HE was a better cook than my mother so he always cooked our Christmas dinner. Yep, I’ll never forget our holiday ham fresh out of the microwave by good ole dad. No, that’s not a typo. Ham fresh out of the MICROWAVE!

3. We always spent Christmas Eve with my mother’s family at my great grandmother’s house. I didn’t see that side of the family very often so it was nice to see them every Christmas Eve. My Great Uncle Bob and his wife who’s name escapes me now were each a carton a day smokers and a case a day drinkers. Uncle Bob was a Navy man in WWII and has the tattoos to prove it. Every year I would try to sit close to Uncle Bob to watch him drink himself into a bumbling fool and to check out the tattoos on his forearms. Uncle Bob had a naked woman tattoo on each of his forearms and would always wear a short sleeved shirt on Christmas Eve even though it was only ten degrees outside. I studied the female anatomy every Christmas Eve by staring at my Uncle’s forearms. Thanks Uncle Bob!

4. My grandfather ALWAYS typed the To’s and From’s on gift tags on his typewriter instead of hand writing them. I believe I got my analness from him!

5. Christmas day was the only day of the year I saw my dad and grandfather drink alcohol. They ALWAYS had a glass of wine or two together on Christmas day and I NEVER saw my mom drink alcohol.

6. After my grandmother died, Christmas was no longer spent at my grandparent’s house. Instead, my grandfather (my dad’s dad) would go to each of his two boys’ house on Christmas day instead. My Aunt and Uncle opened their presents REALLY early on Christmas morning, usually between 4:00am and 5:00am so my grandfather would go there first. He would open presents with them and watch my cousins open their presents and then come to our house to give us our presents and watch my sister and I open them all. By the time my grandfather got to our house between 8:00am and 9:00am, we were all awake and waiting for him to arrive. The anticipation KILLED us as we were not allowed to open ANYTHING until my grandfather arrived. My sister and I would sit there like two jumping beans waiting to open up all those presents. LOL

7. I remember the first Christmas I spent with Paula and her boys and my son. We were a real family!

8. Every Christmas Eve until I got to a certain age, my little sister would sneak into my room after my parents went to bed and we would stay up as long as we could listening for Santa. We wanted to catch him leaving us our gifts and eating the cookies we left for him. We never did catch him. I suppose we fell asleep too early but it was sure fun trying!

9. My mother was ALWAYS the first person up and around the house mobile home on Christmas morning. She knew my dad would be taking lots of pictures that day and there was NO WAY she was going to be in a picture without her hair done, makeup on and dressed nice. My sister and I would roll out of bed and it always looked as though my mom just got home from church or something.

10. One Christmas, I wanted this cool new toy that came out called Rubik’s Cube so bad I could hardly stand it. I saw the commercials for it every Saturday morning as I sat at the table eating my Boo-Berry and watching Speed Buggy. I HAD to have it! Christmas morning I woke up and opened up all my presents. I got everything I had hoped for plus some EXCEPT a Rubik’s Cube. That night after the family left and my dad was in his bedroom, I walked in and sat down kinda bummed out.

DAD: Well, did you get everything you wanted this year lug? What’s the matter?

ME: Yeah, I got a lot of great gifts this year! There was just one I was really hoping for but didn’t get.

DAD: What didn’t you get?

ME: I really really wanted a Rubik’s Cube.

DAD: What do you mean, you DID get a Rubik’s Cube.

ME: No I didn’t!

DAD: Quit pulling my leg. I know you got a Rubik’s Cube.

ME: Dad! No I didn’t!

(Dad walks to closet in bedroom, opens door and looks around inside. Reaches inside)

DAD: Ahhhhhhhhhh shit!

ME: (Keeps mouth shut cause he thinks he’s in trouble)

DAD: Here you go lug! I’m sorry, it must have fallen off the shelf and onto the floor when I got the presents out.

DAD: Go ahead, open it.

Guess what it was. LOL

11. One Christmas, the toy of choice for me was a Stretch Armstrong. I just HAD to have one. He was just COOL! You could stretch the shit out of him and he would shrink back to his normal size. Not a big deal today but in 1977, that was FRIGGIN AWESOME! I received a Stretch Armstrong from my grandmother on Christmas Eve which really kicked ass because I didn’t have to wait ONE MORE DAY to get him. I stretched the crap out of him all night and watched him mold back into his original size and shape. FRIGGIN AMAZING MAN! Stretch was the talk of the night amongst all my family that Christmas Eve. Everyone was wondering what was inside him that would make him stretch like that and return back to normal. Everyone was just as amazed as I was and I LOVED it when that happened as a kid. When we returned home from Great Grandma’s house, we went straight to bed because we had such a busy day tomorrow. Everyone except my mother that is. She stayed up for just a while longer. Not knowing what was inside my Stretch Armstrong was just too much for her and she couldn’t take it anymore. As she sat there looking at stretch, curiosity got the best of her and she took a knife to poor stretch to see what was inside of him. She hacked him up pretty damn good and what an untimely death for Mr. Armstrong.

The next morning I woke up and we all opened our presents. My mother had forgotten to tell my father what she had done while everyone else was asleep. After the presents were all open, I started looking around for my Stretch Armstrong but he was nowhere to be found. I asked if anyone had seen him and everyone including my mother said “No, I haven’t seen him.” I searched high and low but he was nowhere to be found. While I frantically searched, my mother told my father what she had done. Wow, was he ever PISSED OFF! He couldn’t believe my mother did that and asked where it was at. She reluctantly told him and I overheard what was going on because when my dad was pissed, he yelled and EVERYONE listened. My dad and I walked over the shallow grave in the trash can where stretch was laid to rest. Stretch had multiple stab wounds and an unknown substance leaking from his dead carcass. Since he was already hacked up and spewing things out of his wounds, my dad and I thought we may as well take a look at what he was made of. Neither I nor my dad knew what was spewing from Mr. Armstrong and remains a mystery to this day.

12. Every year when we arrived at my Great Grandmother’s house for Christmas Eve, my Great Grandmother would tell my sister and I to go ahead and get some toys out to play with until we open up our presents later. She kept the toys in the walk up attic and it was FRIGGIN CREEPY. Neither my sister nor I had the balls to go up there and get any toys. We would open the door, turn on the light, look up there and that’s about as far as it would go. When asked about the toys, we would simply say we changed our minds and we will just wait until we open up our presents. That’s usually when I took a seat next to Great Uncle Bob.