Four Feet More

I'm back.  Did you miss me?  I've been gone for much of the month, and it feels nice to be home, settled back into our normal routines.  I did have a couple of great vacations though, the first of which was a road trip to Arizona with the family.

We left early on July 30th and drove all day to Tucson, Arizona - my home town.  It was a 13-hour drive, but the kids did great.  It's amazing how much a portable DVD player can reduce the "are we there yet?" nonsense.  We arrived in Tucson around 8pm, and met up with my mom and Ed at their time-share resort in the foothills.  It is a beautiful place, and if you can ignore the solpugids that wander into your room, it's quite relaxing.

Gila Woodpecker on an ocotillo

We spent many of our mornings sitting on the porch, watching the local wildlife, which was made up mostly of birds.  We were fortunate in that the first few days were cooler due to recent monsoon storms, and there were plenty of birds out.  A covey of quail visited our porch daily, a mother cardinal fed her baby in a nearby Palo Verde, and Morning Doves, cactus wrens and Gila Woodpeckers perched on the ocotillo and saguaros out back.  There were also occasional cottontails, trying to blend in with the desert sand, numerous lizards, and during the nighttime, a herd of javelinas that visited the grounds around our room.  Vika and Eamon had a great time exploring the Sonoran Desert and trying to lure in animals for a pet or two.

Family at Midway Molina's

While watching desert wildlife was a huge part of our trip, the reason we went down to Tucson was family.  Our second night in town we had dinner with the cousins at Midway Molina's - a truly great Mexican restaurant with the best cheese crisps in the world.  We caught up on each others' lives, met new family members and remembered my great aunt Mary, who passed away in June.  This was the first time that Vika and Eamon had met many of the family members, and fortunately, they made a good impression.  It is a bit sad to see how the Arizona family has changed though.  It seems that all we have left now are cousins because the older generation has all passed on, and others (including us) have moved away.  The family I grew up with simply no longer exists.  But the new family that is evolving in its place is pretty cool too, and hopefully Vika and Eamon will grow up with fond memories of them.

Old friends catching up

In Tucson, I also had the opportunity to visit my oldest friend, Kathy.  She and I have been friends since the age of 5, and much of my childhood was spent at her house.  Through Facebook, I have reconnected with other childhood friends as well, one of whom was Howard, a boy I played soccer with and who was a good friend to both me and my brother Joe.  Howard goes by Jason now (I think Howard was his middle name), but despite the name change and goatee, he looks exactly the same!  It was strange and cool to see him after 25 years.  He, Kathy and I met up at a local park and chatted about our lives now and old times while Jeff and the kids played.  Vika and Eamon loved Kathy's dog, Dookie, even though her enthusiasm sometimes resulted in them being dragged around the park.  They also liked meeting these friends from my past, and we all had a fun afternoon together.

Me, my sisters, mom and Eamon

The highlight of the trip was having dinner with my sisters and their families.  What?  You didn't know I had sisters?  Well, neither did my kids.  Basically, I have three half-sisters from my dad's first marriage.  I didn't really meet them until after my mom and dad split up, but once they got divorced, my sisters were over all the time.  In fact, they kind of adopted my mom as a member of their family.  Sadly, after my mom married her second husband and we moved to California, we didn't see the girls as often and drifted further apart.  In fact, it has been 6 years since I saw them last, and they had not yet met Vika and Eamon, so this reunion was one we were all looking forward too.  And it was a great time!  We met up with two of my sisters, Kelly and Traci, at Kelly's house out in Marana.  She lives on 5 acres, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, and has a bunch of dogs and two horses.  When Vika saw them, her eyes grew wide and she could hardly contain her joy.  She loves horses, but has never before been near a real one.  Eamon was very excited too, and before you knew it, Kelly and her husband Jake had the kids mounted up on horseback and were leading them around the property.  Both kids were in heaven, and I took about a thousand pictures during their 45-minute ride.  During this time, my nephew Andy (who is in his 20's and a firefighter) taught Jeff how to use a lasso, and he later gave Eamon some lessons as well.  After the ride, the kids fed the horses and we all went inside.

Vika pretending to go for a ride

All of us except Eamon and Jake, that is.  Jake has a golf cart which he drives around his property, and after taking Eamon for a spin in the vehicle, he got out from behind the wheel and said, "You want to try driving this thing?"  Naturally, Eamon shrilled an excited "YES!" and the driving lessons began.  I was too nervous to watch, so I went inside, crossed my fingers and hoped for the best.  Eamon came back a while later, safe and sound, and bubbling over with the thrill of driving his first car.  Vika was slightly jealous, but was soon distracted by the many Chihuahuas around the property.  Kelly does Chihuahua rescue and Vika connected to one dog in particular, a blue teacup named Willie.  I actually fell for this dog too and wanted to smuggle him home in my purse, but Kelly kept too sharp an eye on him.  Dang it.

The best thing about this night with my sisters, and the whole trip to Tucson really, was the relaxed feeling of not needing to be anything other than who you are.  My kids were able to play around and be noisy children, and I didn't need to worry about them getting in the way or offending anybody.  Things are a bit slower down there then they are in the Bay Area, and since were were on vacation, we had no major schedule to stick too.  It was as if I could truly take a deep breath and relax.  What a wonderful feeling.  The day-trips to Mission San Xavier and Mt. Lemmon, an evening at Trail Dust Town (complete with Western stunt show and dinner at my favorite restaurant, Pinnacle Peak), and the discovery of Ethiopian food (who knew they had such a great African restaurant in Tucson?), all made the trip a memorable one.

Family at Pinnacle Peak for dinner

In front of Mission San Xavier del Bac

I've always had a bit of a wandering spirit, but lately, my need to be somewhere else has become nearly all-consuming.  We've lived in our current house for 11 years now.  It was supposed to be our "starter home" where we would live for 5 years or so and then upgrade to a larger house.  That was the plan, but life kind of got in the way.  With the expenses related to adopting and career changes for both Jeff and myself, it seems that we've been in "survival mode" for the last 5 years.  I'm ready to move on.

Our hometown is not what it was when I moved here nearly 25 years ago.  The population has changed so much, and many of the people I went to school with have moved away.  Our neighborhood has become increasingly transient, with families moving to the area so their kids can attend the elementary school (a California Distinguished School), and then moving away when their kids hit 6th grade.  At that time, they relocate to the area where my high school is.  While it was a decent school when I attended in the early 90's, it is now one of the top 50 high schools in the nation, and families flock to the homes surrounding it, even if they cost $900K for a 4 bedroom fixer-upper.

The result of all this moving around and total focus on academics is a community that is highly fractured.  The students at Vika and Eamon's school aren't really the type to hang out and play after school.  So many of them do homework (and extra homework provided by their parents) before attending piano lessons or badminton practice.  They are over-scheduled and in many cases secluded from simple childhood pleasures.  One day after Spring Break Vika told me how she mentioned to a friend that she and Eamon had climbed trees and gone puddle jumping during their vacation, and her friend had no idea what she was talking about.  She was not allowed to climb trees or jump in puddles, and had never even been on a picnic!  Eamon said no one else in his class had ever climbed a tree either.  It made me kind of sad.  When I asked what their friends did for fun, both Vika and Eamon said they played video games in their room. 

It's also quite depressing in our neighborhood during the holidays.  On Halloween, we drive to my mom's neighborhood, the next town over, so that Vika and Eamon can experience Trick-or-Treating.  When we used to stay here, all the neighbors' lights were out and only one or two groups of teenagers would stop by for candy.  During Christmas, only 2 or 3 houses on our street are decorated with lights.  I realize a lot of this is due to the fact that many of our neighbors are recent immigrants from Asia and the Middle East.  They don't celebrate the same holidays that we do.  Unfortunately, since most of the families plan on moving away when their kids enter Jr. High, they don't really invest any time in the community either. 

Adding to this lack of neighborly feeling is the daily irritation provided by our next-door-neighbors.  To the right we have the incessant-honking-car-alarm-family, who nearly burned their house down but refused to call the fire department for help.  To the left we have Pat, one of the few neighbors who has been here longer than us.  She lives with her daughter, Andrea, and Andrea's kids Alyssa and Evan.  Andrea had Alyssa when she was 15 and has been in jail numerous times for drug and theft convictions.  In fact, Evan was born during her last stay in jail - he's now 5 years old.  Despite all this, Pat and Andrea are actually nice people, and I know that they would help out our family if ever we needed it.  About 6 years ago, when Andrea was still on drugs and had all kinds of strange people hanging around the house, I heard her tell this rough looking guy who was staring me down to "Stop it.  They're good to Alyssa.  They're alright."  And we've never had a problem with any of her friends.  However, now Alyssa is 17 and beginning to repeat her mother's mistakes.  She has all kinds of sketchy-looking people hanging out in the garage at all hours of the day and night, smoking pot and drinking beer.  Among other things, I'm sure.  Every night between midnight and 3:30 am, there is yelling in front of the house, and the front door slams constantly.  We've talked to Pat and Andrea about it, and the homeowner's association has received other complaints as well.  But nothing really changes.  So we need to change.  It's time to really make moving someplace new a priority.

California is kind of in the toilet, unfortunately.  And honestly, even though I've lived here for 25 years, I've never really felt that this is my home.  The fact that my teaching job is cut every year and the public school situation is so unstable makes California even less desirable.  So Jeff and I are looking to possibly move out of the state, hopefully in the next couple of years.  Someplace where the education system is good and housing prices are more reasonable.  We are still considering international teaching, but since I don't have a job for next year, I'm not sure if I will be as marketable a candidate for any open positions.  We are also seriously looking at the East Coast and parts of the Midwest.  It would be a huge change from California, and we would miss our family and friends, but it could be just the kind of change we need. 

Does anyone have any suggestions for areas that are family-friendly, with good schools and a nice sense of community?  Places where you can see fireworks and maybe even a parade on the 4th of July? Communities where people know their neighbors and occasionally even lend them a cup of sugar?  Please, any input is welcome!

Time to wipe off the dust and sweep away the cobwebs hanging around Four Feet More.  I've wanted to post oh so many times in recent weeks, but life keeps getting in the way.

A constant distraction is my little student (we'll call her Jane), who I believe has Oppositional Defiant Disorder.  I've begun playing a covert game of "opposites" with her, just to get through the day.  If I want her to stand I'll say, "Jane, can you please sit over there?  Thanks!"  Then she'll come and stand by me.  If I want her to sit, I'll say, "Jane, I need you to stand over here.  Please do NOT sit in that chair."  Then she'll go and sit in the chair, looking quite smug about defying me.  This of course sends the rest of the kindergartners into a tizzy, "Mrs. ____!  Jane is sitting in the chair!"  I just sigh and say, "Jane's going to do what she wants, I guess."  So far, this game has been working, but it's a bit tedious and exhausting.  And I'm not sure if it will last through the end of the school year.  Fingers crossed, it will, and hopefully next year's teacher will have more success curbing her ODD than I.  We've got just 18 days left until Summer Break - I think I can make it!

About next year... I've been told by both my principal and the union that because there are so many surplussed tenured teachers (due to education budget cuts), the chances of temporary (non-tenured) teachers getting hired back next year is, "slim-to-none."  Here we go again.  Another summer of uncertainty and that unsettling feeling of "will we make it financially?"  Part of me is looking forward to being laid off though.  I can maybe do substitute teaching, and help Jeff with his real estate business.  Or perhaps I'll homeschool Eamon (Vika would not be a good homeschooling candidate, for a variety of reasons).  With the increased class sizes, no prep time, and 10% pay cut teachers in my district are facing next year, it might be a good time to sub.  Maybe by the Fall of 2011, the state of California will open it's eyes and start making education more of a funding priority.

On the homefront, May has been a bit unsettled too.  Perhaps because of the stress I'm dealing with at work, I don't have the patience to deal with the stresses at home.  Jeff and I have been very conscious of our reactions and trying to remain calm, but the kids definitely do test us.  One such moment came last weekend.  Eamon's PTSD was in full swing and he was in a rage about something so minor,  that now I don't even remember what it was.  The rage took on a scary form though, kind of like those we saw during our first months home with the kids.  I actually had to do holding time with Eames, something we haven't done in years.  For those of you not experienced with therapeutic parenting, "holding time" is essentially when a parent holds a child through their rages, both to keep them and the people around them safe, but also to show them that even when their behavior is at it's ugliest, we are still there, helping them through it and loving them.  And Eamon's rage was ugly.  He was screaming at me, yelling hurtful things and trying to hit me.  It was almost as if I was exorcising a demon.  You have to know Eamon to understand how bad this was. He is such a sweet, affectionate child who would give up his favorite toy if it would make someone happy.  He is constantly telling me he loves me and saying "Cheek!" - my signal to give him my cheek to kiss and then kiss his cheek in return.  For him to act like this, something had to be really wrong.  The frustrating thing is, I have no idea what it was!  He has no idea what was causing him to behave that way either.  It's a problem with no clear source and no clear fix.  So, I held him through his rage, breathing calmly, telling him I loved him in a soft voice and encouraging him to calm down.  Which he eventually did do.  Then I got up, went into my bedroom and cried. 

I was so drained, both physically and emotionally, and it was incredibly painful to see my son acting that way.  While I was hiding, Eamon burst into the bedroom, perhaps ready to initiate another fight.  But then he saw me crying, and his little body just deflated.  He sat down beside me, kissed my head and began rubbing my back.  I hugged him and then asked if I could have some time alone to collect myself.  He said yes, and left the room.  About 5 minutes later, there was a knock on the door and Eamon came in carrying the drawing below.  I asked him what it showed and he said, "That's you, Mama, being calm and showing love, and that's me being angry.  But you're still holding my hand."  On the back of the paper was written in big green letters, "I am sory mama."


Poor guy.  I didn't mean to make him feel guilty, which is why I went into the bedroom to cry.  But he saw me and felt guilty anyway.  However, since that day, it seems that Eamon and I have come to a bit of an understanding.  We're almost back to the relationship we had before he started school, and he seems much happier this week than he's been in months.  So, while this incident was one of the worst ever, I think it was good that it happened.  Hopefully we'll soon get to the bottom of what's been eating at the boy so that we can deal with the problem and move forward.

On a positive note, Vika's progress report from school came back with outstanding marks!  She has struggled a bit academically, so it was wonderful to see her success.  She even received and A+ on a science test (an especially impressive achievement to her science-challenged mama)!  The girl's been devouring chapter books and really seems to be coming into her own academically.  In a month of "steps back," this was a very satisfying "step forward."  Go Vika!

So, there is it.  My month so far in a rather large nutshell.  Hopefully once school gets out I'll be a more regular blog poster and reader.  Thank goodness for Facebook, or I'd be out of the loop entirely!

Many of you have seen the news that Sandra Bullock adopted an African American baby boy, and is going to proceed with the adoption as a single mother.  To this I say, "You GO girl!"  However, from other people I am hearing far different words.  Words like, "Why did she adopt an African American child instead of a white one?"

This is a bit of a sore spot with me, and I'll tell you why.  When we adopted our kids, I was asked on more than one occasion why I chose to adopt from Russia instead of adopting an American child in need of a home.  While I know this is slightly different from Bullock's case, it is similar in that other people cast judgment on the children that we chose to adopt.  It shows an ignorance about adoption that I thought I would take a moment to address here.

When I was asked why we adopted from Russia instead of America I always responded that we felt the international adoption process better suited our needs.  We would not have to wait to be chosen by a birthmother to adopt her child, and once the adoption was final, it would be FINAL.  In California, a birthmother can change her mind and take back her child up to 90 days after the adoption.  Then there was the sticky case where a birthfather didn't realize he had a child until the boy, which had been adopted by another family, was around 10 years old (the particulars of the case escape me at the moment).  Because he was the biological father and had not given his consent to the adoption, he had the right to take back that child.  These were risks that our family simply didn't want to take. 

Those are reasons I usually site when asked why we didn't adopt from America.  However, this is how I really want to answer: A child in need of a family is a child in need of a family.  Period.  It doesn't matter where that child is from, they are still entitled to a loving home.

I feel the same way about the comments made regarding the transracial nature of Bullock's adoption.  Is her son any less deserving of a loving mother because he is African American?  It may be true that culturally and emotionally, it would be better for him to be placed in an African American family.  He might feel more secure because his skin is not a different color from his family members, and he may feel a greater connection to the African American community.  However, the sad reality is, there are many more African American children in need of homes than there are African American families waiting to adopt them.   

The same is true of Russia.  There are hundreds of thousands of children in orphanages across the country, but adoption by Russian families is still relatively uncommon.  This trend has changed in recent years, when The Russian government began offering financial incentives to Russian families to adopt, but the fact remains that the majority of children in Russian orphanages will not be adopted.

Another reality is that the majority of children available for domestic adoption are not the white, newborn babies that many people think of when they begin considering adoption.  They are older children in the foster care system.  They are babies born to incarcerated or drug addicted mothers.  They are biracial children and sibling groups.  Don't beleive me?  Go here and check out the photo listings for your state.

Now, I'm not saying that children on the photo listings are not entitled to a loving family, because I firmly believe that they are.  My point is that adoption is not about bringing the youngest, most-like-you child you can find into your family.  It is about bringing a child to LOVE into your family.  And all children deserve to be loved, whether they are African American or white, babies or pre-teens, Russian, Chinese, Ethiopian, or born right here in the U.S. of A.   The race, age and nationality of a child are irrelevant in that child's right to a loving family. 

For those of you out there who have not added to your family through adoption, please remember that it is not all like the movie "Juno" (which I loved, BTW).  The faces of adopted children are as varied and diverse as the families who adopt them.  And that is a beautiful thing.

As a side note to Sandra Bullock, when someone says to you, "Wow.  Your child is so dark.  Does (he) look like (his) father?"  You can respond as I did when presented with this question about Vika a while back: "Nope (he) looks like (his) mother!"  It's fun to see the confusion wash over peoples faces.  ;)

As you know, things have been a bit rough here lately.  With the weather getting a bit nicer, Jeff and I decided to take the kids to the beach for the day.  We haven't been in a while, and it was a much needed break.

We started out early, tired but excited.  Jeff packed his fishing gear, the kids brought some "beach toys" (including 4 lightsabers - a sand hill at the beach looks like something out of Tatooine), and I brought my knitting and a book.  We hit the rocky side of the beach first, where Jeff imagined himself catching a cabezon, eel or some other tasty fish to cook up for dinner that night.  He was not very successful.  But the kids and I were!  Not 5 minutes on the beach, Vika spotted a red starfish laying among the gravely rocks, just outside of the shore line.  At first we thought it was dead (things washed up on the beach generally are), but nope, it was still alive.  After taking a few pictures, Vika decided to "rescue" the starfish by gently placing it in a tidepool with direct access to the ocean.  There it sat, doing whatever it is that starfish do, for the next 4 hours.

In the tidepools we also found several small hermit crabs, some of which would come out and walk on our hands.  The bigger ones, older and more wise, lived up to the name of "hermit" and refused to come out and play.   Eamon soon became bored with the hermit crabs and went off to climb the cliff walls framing the beach.  At one point I saw him scaling a nearly vertical wall, looking for his next foothold about 20 feet up.  "Eamon!"  I shouted, "You're not Bear Grylls! Come down from there before you fall and crack your head open!" Thank goodness the boy actually listened (I probably have Vika's recent head injury to thank for that), and decided to explore the tidepools and caves instead.  He found a dark brown spider crab on the beach, which while still alive, probably would not be for much longer. it was kind of cute though, in an alienish sort of way.


Around noon, we moved to the sandy side of the beach for lunch and fun.  Vika set to work immediately digging a big hole.  She always does this at the beach, and I never knew why until this outing.  Apparently, laying in the hole makes her warm.  Eamon headed into the surf with a lightsaber to practice his Jedi moves.  The beach wasn't very crowded, but those walking the shore were quite amused by the scrappy kid attacking waves as if they were some oncoming invasion of battle droids.  And, not to brag or anything, but the boy's got some moves.  If there really were battle droids attacking our beach, he totally would have vanquished them.

I snuggled up on the blanket and read a book while Jeff continued fishing.  He actually caught a tiger perch later in the day, which he and Vika crammed into Eamon's beach bucket filled with seawater (we didn't bring a fish cooler - apparently Jeff's expectation of catching dinner was as low as mine).  The poor thing didn't look comfortable at all.  Jeff put the bucket in a hole in the sand, and much to the fish's relief, a rogue wave hit the shore not much later, washing both it and the bucket off to freedom!  And, I didn't have to eat perch for dinner (bony things). It was a win-win all around. 

The four of us had a great day together and were able to reconnect after the clashes of recent weeks.  Spring Break is here now, so hopefully this dratted rain will go away and we'll be able to enjoy some more family outings in the week to come.

Jeff and I have been working really hard to stay on track as far as discipline goes.  We've been allowing our kids to make choices and deal with the consequences, without giving them countless reminders about what is the right thing to do.  They know the right thing to do.  We've told them often enough!   But it is really hard to bite my tongue and not say anything when Vika and Eamon don't follow through on doing what we ask.  I've been in the habit of giving repeated reminders and warnings, and I get frustrated when the simplest of requests is ignored.

Adding to my frustration is the fact that things are not getting better, they're getting worse.  This afternoon, for example, the kids gleefully ignored their evening chores, playing loudly upstairs to make sure I knew they were not doing as I asked.  A relatively minor request to put away the chess game was met with groans, name-calling and threats (all directed at me).  There seems to be a lot of anger brewing in our kids right now, and it's definitely taking it's toll.  As I keep my cool and do not react with a raised voice or threats, their anger seems to get worse.  Logically, I know this means that the discipline is working.  They are trying to get me worked up so that they can regain control of the situation.  But emotionally, it's tough.  I've had this knot in my chest all week, and it is hard to see a light at the end of the tunnel.

Some people might say I should just spank my kids and get it over with.  But they have not seen Eamon cower in fear, hiding under his blankets and crying when Jeff raises his voice at Vika.  They haven't heard the matter-of-fact way that Vika says the mamachkas (caregivers) at the orphanage used their shoes to beat kids who misbehaved.  Spanking might produce short-term results, but at what cost? 

And, lest any of you get the idea that we have "bad kids," I assure you that couldn't be farther from the truth.  We have amazing kids!  Kids who survived things in their first few years of life that would bring many adults to their knees.  It's the survival techniques that brought them through those early years that we are dealing with now - many of them just don't work in a family.  So, despite the feeling that we have taken two HUGE steps backwards, Jeff and I are pressing on.  Hopefully we'll figure out soon what has caused this recent downward spiral in our kids' behavior so we can address that underlying issue as well.  It's tough, but I believe the end results will be worth it.

It's been a bit unsettled here lately, and a lot has been going on.  Chalk it up to Spring Fever, or March Madness, but I feel as if we've taken a few big steps back in our household.  I haven't posted in a while, so this one's going to be long.  You have been warned.

It began a few weeks ago when Vika casually mentioned at dinner that she had to turn in her Endangered Species report by Friday or else she would get a D-.  This was the first time Jeff or I were even hearing about this report, so a tiny, yellow flag began to wave in my mind, encouraging me to investigate further.  Vika explained that her teacher has assigned the report the day before and that she only had 3 days to finish it.  By this time, the yellow flag had been replaced with a wildly flapping red one, and I knew that I was not getting the truth.  Vika's teacher generally gives them weeks to complete a report, not days, so I voiced my confusion over why she changed this pattern.  I offered to e-mail her teacher to find out why she wasn't giving them as much time on the report and see what we could work out. A look of panic crossed over Vika's face, and she came up with one excuse after another why I shouldn't contact her teacher.  Finally, I put an end to the game and told her that I didn't think we were getting the truth and that I would like to have it now, please.  It turns out that the report was overdue and that Vika had not only lied to us about it, but to her teacher as well.   While helping Vika look for the report rubric in her room, I also found several incomplete homework assignments in her garbage can.   It was incredibly disheartening, because I thought we had conquered this problem.  Vika has had trouble with homework in the past, but she really seemed to be on it this year, and I thought those days were behind us.

Our new "I'm Sorry Steps" were put to the test when we had Vika write a letter of apology to her teacher.  This consequence seemed to affect Vika more than the restriction from TV and computer (to help her better focus on her school work).  She really likes her teacher and wants Mrs. M to have a good opinion of her.  She asked me several times if I could just e-mail Mrs. M to explain what happened and set up a homework checking system.  But I held firm, repeating that it was her school work and her responsibility, not mine.  And while our trust in Vika has been pretty well eroded by this, I have to say I am proud of how she handled things with her teacher.  She arranged a homework recording system that has to be initialed by both us and Mrs. M, and delivered a well-written note of apology.  Vika seems to be back on track, and hopefully this time, it will stick.

Last weekend, we had another incident occur that threw me for a loop.  On March 10th, Jeff had knee surgery to repair a meniscus tear.  He came through it OK, but has been hobbling around like an old man ever since.  The kids aren't used to seeing him like this (Jeff's very active), and I think it's made them a bit nervous.  On Sunday, things got worse when I became sick.  In a fit of Spring Cleaning, I had scrubbed down my shower with this new tile cleaner, and began to feel quite woozy.  By lunchtime, the room was spinning and I couldn't get out of bed, I was so dizzy.  We desperately needed groceries, so while I took a rest, Jeff limped off to the grocery store, leaving the kids pretty much unattended for an hour.  We all know how that goes, but Vika and Eamon had assured us that they would be safe and take care of me while he was gone.  When Jeff got home, I was feeling a bit less dizzy, so I made my way downstairs for a snack of Saltines and peppermint tea.  Jeff and the kids joined me, and while we ate, Vika, the master of casual asides, mentioned that Eamon had peed in the litterbox and cat area. 

Jeff and I looked at each other in stunned silence.  I mean, really?  We were having urination in the household thrown at us now, more than 4 years after bringing the kids home?   Fortunately, we managed to keep our cool (most likely due to the fact that neither one of us had the energy to get angry).  I looked at Eamon and said, "Wow.  That's surprising.  Well, no worries.  You'll have plenty of time to clean up the cat area before dinner."  A temper tantrum ensued - Eamon was really upset (ashamed?) that he had been caught, and let us know in no uncertain terms how "mean" we were being to him.  All the drama took it's toll, and I began to feel dizzy and nauseous again.  I barely made it upstairs to find that my bedroom door had been closed and locked.  I laid down in front of the door, trying not to get sick again, as Jeff got the key to open it.  Only the key didn't work.  Eamon had tried to pick the lock with a pencil and the lead had broken off in the keyhole.  At this point, Jeff's calm evaporated and a display of anger which has rarely been seen in our house ensued.  Between the pain in his knee, me being so sick, Eamon's misbehavior, and Vika "stirring the pot", it was all just too much.  The kids were sent to bed while I threw up and Jeff regrouped.

Let me just say at this point that ours' is not usually a dramatic household, so Sunday was definitely a wake-up call.  As a parent of children with traumatic backgrounds, I find myself constantly questioning whether their behavior is typical kid stuff, or indicative of lingering issues from their time in the orphanage.  How much is related to attachment or post-traumatic stress, and how much is just kids testing the limits?  I'm not sure I'll ever really figure that out.  This is the only reality I've ever known, and I've got to take it as it is.  One thing is certain though.  As things have seemed to move backwards, Jeff and I have definitely fanned the flames with our increasingly angry reactions.  We've got to work to be more consistent with the Love and Logic approach, even when behaviors catch us off guard.  That's the challenge we now face.

After writing this post, I asked Eames, "So, what was the deal with that whole peeing in the litterbox thing again?"  He replied that he and Vika were playing "cats."  So, I'm feeling better that this was an instance of kids being kids, rather than a PTSD reaction to Jeff and I not being at full capacity.

The past couple of weeks have just flown by! In between work and the kids, a few other things have occurred which are worth mentioning.

• I am sick. AGAIN. Darn, germy kindergartners. The upside is that all this coughing is giving my abs one heck of a workout! The downside is that I have no creative energy at the moment, which means you get this: a bulleted list of the marginally interesting things that happened since my last post.

• My nephew Tyson turned 1 year old last week! We went to his birthday party last weekend, and hoped to get a photo of him with cake all over his face. However, he just daintily dipped his fingertips into the frosting, keeping very clean and tidy, so I finally told my brother to push the piece of cake in Ty's face. Which he actually did! After a moment of stunned silence, Ty thought it was fun and began smiling through the layers of blue frosting covering his cheeks and mouth. Photos were taken all around.

• I received notice of new budget cuts coming to our school district next year. Proposed cuts include 105 teaching positions (in Elementary Ed), P.E. for elementary students, the elimination of class-size reduction in all elementary classes, custodial services, etc. The list goes on and on until $35 million is cut from the budget. *sigh* Looks like it's going to be another summer of uncertainty for me.

• And, to end on a high note, I finally finished my Rosamund's Cardigan! I got the pattern from Interweave Knits' Fall 2009 issue and used worsted weight yarn purchased from Knit Picks online. There are a few problem areas in the finished sweater (which probably would be eliminated if I blocked it), but overall, I'm happy with the results! Now, on to my next project (whatever that will be...).

I got this idea from mom, and thought that since this month marks the start of a new decade, it would be nice to recap the decade that passed.

1999

• Jeff and I buy our first home.
• Vacation in Cancun – we climb to the top of Chitzen Itza (although I thought I might die in the process)

2000

• Y2K – nothing special and thankfully the world did not come to an end.
• Jeff quits his job at UPS and goes into real estate.
• Jeff, Ali and I travel to San Diego in the summer.
• I buy my first ever brand new car! Mel, James and I take it on a road trip a week later.

2001

• September 11^th – awful, horrid day.
• Jeff, Ali and I visit Disneyworld.
• Jeff and I get engaged on June 9^th (after a day-long scavenger hunt in which I actually had to dig up a treasure chest containing my ring!)
• Although we didn’t know it at the time, Vika was born in Russia.

2002

• Jeff and I get married on April 28^th and honeymoon in Australia.
• Jeff and I decide we could easily live in Australia.
• Vacation in Hawaii to celebrate my birthday.
• Trip to Chicago to visit my uncle’s family and my grandpa, and to attend the baptism of my cousin.
• Mom and Ed get married.
  
• We didn’t know it at the time, but Eamon was born in Russia.

2003

• I learn I am finally pregnant, but lose the baby 2 months later.
• Road trip with Ali to visit family in Arizona and see Arches National Park in Utah.
• We try again to get pregnant, but this effort is brief as I am over it already!
• I begin taking night classes to get my teaching credential.

2004

• Jeff and I begin the adoption process.
• We travel with Ali to London and Paris.
• Still working on my teaching credential.
• Jeff’s mom passes away, and the hub of his family (a wonderful person) is gone.

2005

• I quit my job at Stanford to begin student teaching.
• Jeff’s dad passes away.
• In June, I get my teaching credential.
• We get a referral for Vika and Eamon, and after 2 trips to Russia, our adoption of them is complete!
• On Christmas Eve, we bring our kids home.

2006

• I begin writing in this blog.
• Jeff and I adjust to being the parents of two very active children who speak no English (but learn it rapidly).
• I work as a substitute teacher so that I can spend time at home with the kids.
• Jeff and I take Ali and the kids to Chicago to visit my uncle’s family and my grandfather, who is now living in a nursing home.
• Family vacation in Disneyworld.

2007

• My brother Joe gets married!
• Road trip to Arizona with Mom & Ed and Joe’s family. We force our spouses and kids to join us on a trip down "memory lane."
  
• In July, I get my first full-time teaching job! I teach 6^th grade and become good friends with my teaching partner/mentor, J9.
• Ed’s mom passes away.
• Gramps passes away in October – we travel to Chicago in December for his memorial service.

2008

• I get my first ever pink-slip when my district lays off all new teachers.
• Vacation to Disneyland where we meet up with Mel and her family.
• I am rehired at my school and begin teaching 5^th grade.
• Ed’s father, Grandpa Clyde passes away.

2009

• My nephew Tyson and cousin Alex are born!
• I get laid off from my teaching job again (this is an annual occurrence for new teachers in our school district).
• We take the kids to Disneyworld in the summer.
• In August, I am rehired at my school, this time as a kindergarten teacher.
  

What adventures/memories/milestones did the past decade bring for you? If you write a list, please include the link in my comments so that I can check it out!

For some insane reason, Jeff and I thought it would be a good idea to take the kids to the snow. Since we live in the Bay Area, we can't just go outside and play in the snow. For us, a snow day begins with a 4-hour trek to Tahoe on the border of California and Nevada. We got up early, packed the car, and hit the road. Fortunately, the kids were still tired, so they were quiet for the first 2 hours of the drive. However, at 2 hours and 5 minutes in, we began getting the incessant "How much longer?" questions. And when we stopped to buy our Sno-park permit at a Sports Chalet along the way, the questions became, "This is it? Where's all the snow?" I would have thought that us being in a shopping center parking lot would have tipped Vika and Eamon off to the fact that we had not yet arrived at our final destination. I was wrong. When we finally did start seeing snow along the side of the road, the kids could hardly contain themselves. Little squeals of glee and anticipation replaced all their questions. It was with happiness and relief that we finally pulled into the Sno-Park.

The day was beautiful. There were a few clouds overhead and the snow was white and powdery. Jeff showed the kids how to slide down hills on their feet and engaged in a snowball fight with Eamon. Then he found a green inner tube which someone had left behind, and immediately began trying to blow the thing up. His efforts were in vain though, because all the air kept escaping through the gaping hole on the side of the tube. This, apparently, is why the tube was abandoned. Never one to miss an opportunity, Jeff folded the tube-carcass in half and used it as a makeshift toboggan to slide down a hill. He gave Eamon a turn, and really, it was a pathetic sight. The thing only slid so far, and Eamon was trying so hard to have fun with it. Some other snow-goers took pity on us and lent Jeff their sled. Both kids took turns, laughing all the way down the slope and through the trees.

In the meantime, I began building a snowman. Growing up in Arizona and then moving to California has not afforded me many opportunities to play in the snow. In fact, never before had I built a real snowman. I made a small little lump of a thing once, but that doesn't really count. I set to work on this snowman with gusto. He was going to be life-sized, with a scarf, a hat and gloves. Sadly, the powdery snow made this task a bit more daunting. I soon learned that I had to hold my hands over the snow, warming and melting it slightly, so it would stick together. This made the project take MUCH longer than anticipated. The kids and Jeff helped out a bit, but they soon lost interest and went on to more rewarding activities. I was tenacious though and finally completed the snowman's body (which was life-sized, if you are a three-year-old). I sent Vika off to get some sticks and Jeff and Eamon to the car for accessories. Here's our family with the finished product:

We named him "Snicks" (a combination of "snow" and "sticks"), and several families came by to admire our handiwork. By this time, the clouds had grown thicker and it started to snow. My toes were numb, Eamon's hands were frozen, and we were all hungry. Scrambling up the slope, we rushed to the car and ate a quick lunch. Eamon buckled himself into his car seat declaring, "I'm done with the snow Mama. I'll just wait in here." The poor kid's hands were red from the cold and his jeans were soaked through (we really were not dressed for the snow). But Vika wanted to make snow angels, so the kids rushed outside, plopped down on a snow bank, and began waving their arms and legs furiously. The shock of the cold along their whole body did both kids in, and they were a shivering mess, barely able to walk back to the car. It would seem that their hardy Russian blood has thinned during these years in California.

Changing Vika and Eamon into warm, dry clothes proved to be quite an ordeal. I have never heard them moan so much! Little pansies. ;) After what seemed like an epic struggle, we had them stripped of their wet jeans and shirts, and changed into snuggly fleece. With the snow coming down a bit harder, we pulled out of the park, dodging snowboarders being pulled by other cars along the way (what's up with that?), and made the long journey back home. It was a fun, but exhausting day. My uncle, who lives in Chicago, commented that it was sad we had to make a special trip to the snow when his family lives with it "every friggin' day" from December through April. After how long it took my toes to defrost, I can't say I envy him. Although it would be nice to be able to make a snowman in our front yard someday. Even if it is just a small little lump of a thing.

Finally, the Christmas shopping is done, the pizzelles are baked (waffled?) and the presents are wrapped. Our disastrous cranberry cordials (which tasted like cough syrup) have been rescued, thanks to an extra infusion of vodka and sugar. It's been a busy holiday pre-season, and frankly, I'm ready to get down to the actual holiday.

Tonight we'll do our annual family dinner and celebration of the day we brought Vika and Eamon home. On the menu, roasted capon (I'm feeling very Victorian with that one), mashed sweet potatoes, some vegetable (not sure what - Jeff's cooking) and cranberry sauce. We'll also spend some time today at mom's, visiting with my step-family.

The kids will get to open two gifts today. One from us (always a pair of PJs), and one from Merripen (since he is leaving tonight with Santa). Vika is in that total girl mode where she wants us to dress alike. Often she'll come into the bathroom, make a note of what I'm wearing, and then rush into her bedroom to put on something similar. So, to accommodate this peculiarity of hers, I bought us matching PJs. We may look completely dorky in our lavender Nick & Nora owl jams, but Vika will LOVE it.

Tomorrow will begin with a breakfast of gingerbread waffles with cranberry compote and lots of present opening. Of course, that's after Jeff has gone downstairs and checked to make sure Santa came (the kids are a bit worried he may skip our house this year - with good reason).

But, before all that, we'll hold our annual viewing of the video below and spend some time remembering that hectic Christmas Eve 4 years ago. The Christmas Eve that delivered us all home, safe and sound, a family at last!



Have a happy holiday everyone! I wish you good health and much joy in 2010!

Thanks for all the suggestions for dealing with the problem in my last post. We've actually used a few of them, and I think Vika is starting to get it. Maggie - we did the activity with the paper person, writing on the body all the things that make family great, and then tearing it apart with actions that hurt a family. Afterward we discussed what actions would put the family back together and taped the paper person back up. Then I hung him on the fridge as a reminder.

The next day, Vika and I were having a discussion about how she was talking to Eamon (she does love to boss him around). She began yelling and whining, so I said, "I don't think we're communicating very well right now. Lets talk about this later when we're both more calm." Vika stormed off to the refrigerator, took down the paper person and tore off the leg that says "communication." Then she placed it on my laptop. I fought back a smile because I know she was making a valid point, and I didn't think she'd appreciate the humor in the situation. But we later talked about it and she found her actions amusing too. I still have the paper "communication" leg sitting by my laptop, and it makes me smile every time I look at it. Perhaps it's time to reattach the leg to our little "Family Man" though.

Vika is also working on a well-thought-out letter of apology, which Eamon requested of her. Eamon told Vika he wanted the letter to say more than just "I'm sorry." He wanted her to show that she really meant it. Sounds like the kid has some tough standards. I hope he doesn't make Vika do too many revisions!

I really liked Kate's suggestion of a shared family "secret" that Vika was excluded from. It was just tricky thinking of how to do this in a way that didn't seem vindictive or mean. Luckily, Eamon is not the type to hold grudges or intentionally hurt someone's feelings, so when we told him our plan, I knew he would see it through in a kind way. We have planned a fun family evening watching "Polar Express," drinking hot chocolate (which we usually do during the "Hot Chocolate" scene in the movie - we're nerds), and making cinnamon S'mores. Eamon, Jeff and I have talked about the "fun plans" in passing, but not enough to lord it over Vika. We've just kind of mentioned it here and there, and Eamon's given me smiling thumb's up signals across the table. Vika has asked, "What is the surprise?! Is it a surprise for me?!" I said that no, it wasn't a surprise for her, but it was a family activity that we wanted to do, just the four of us. We are nervous about telling her because she might mention it to someone else, who would feel bad that they are not included. Frankly, it's driving Vika nuts! "Why can't you just tell me?!" she exclaimed in frustration yesterday afternoon. "I think you know the answer to that, Vika" I responded calmly. She got very quiet at that point and was really thinking about it. Hopefully she thought about what it means to share trust in a family and how it is better to be inside the "circle of trust" rather than outside of it. We'll put her out of her misery today though. A rainy Sunday sounds like the perfect day to watch "Polar Express," drink hot cocoa and eat S'mores!

One other family building activity Jeff and I are doing is kind of a "forced cooperation" program. Vika constantly needs to be in charge of Eamon, so we're making them work together on family chores, like folding laundry or cleaning the kitchen, and fun things like Holiday projects. We've instructed Eamon to say, "Nice try Vika" when she starts bossing him around and to remind her that they are working as a team. Our hope is that this will empower Eamon to react to Vika's bossiness with words instead of anger, and also reinforce that neither child in the house is in charge of the other. We'll see how that goes.

Thank you again for all the great ideas. I was too upset to really come up with anything constructive last weekend. Fortunately, since Vika let the secret slip on a Friday, the kids at school had all weekend to forget about it, and Eamon has not been teased since. That was my biggest concern, and luckily, it seems to no longer be an issue.

I need advice regarding a problem which I was made aware of this afternoon. Vika exposed a secret about Eamon, something he is ashamed of and which we have said would stay just within the family, to her classmates at school in an effort to embarrass and bully him. Sadly it worked, and now kids at school are making fun of Eamon as well. I'm so upset with her, and extremely sad that Eamon now has to endure teasing about something which he really cannot help.

I've told Vika how people need to feel safe in a family and how she has made Eamon feel unsafe by telling his secret to kids at school. I've also told her that words can never be taken back and how disappointed I am with her for lashing out at her brother in that way. But it seems there needs to be some bigger consequence for this so that it will never occur again.

How would you deal with a situation like this? Anything you can think of that would have a lasting impact? And for the more bloodthirsty of you out there, beating her with a stick is not an option.

Last night was our 2nd annual Fall Feast. You may remember last year's Fall Feast, when I frantically tried to cook a turkey to Martha Stweart's specifications and wound up with a nearly black, dried out bird. Actually it wasn't that bad. But it wasn't that good either. Thankfully, this year Jeff cooked the turkey, while the kids and I assisted with the blue corn bread stuffing and sweet potato pie. We also had broccoli and Gruyere gratin, cranberry sauce, and Yukon Gold mashed potatoes (which were heavenly).

To top it all off, Ali joined us for the Fall Feast, and the five of us had a really nice time. Vika and Eamon were both positively giddy when they found out that Ali would be joining us. Vika even commented that "We haven't had dinner with Ali like this in about 5 years!" It has really only been 2 years, but to a kid, I guess that seems like an eternity.

Since the Sweet Potato Pie took a bit longer to cook than we anticipated, the bird was put into the oven late. Which meant that we had about an hour and a half to kill. So, we put our new "Star Trek" blu-ray into the player and the five of us squished onto the couch to watch. Ali hadn't seen it before, and the kids have seen it about 7 times now, so they were quick to educate her on the ways of Star Trek. Whenever Spock did the Vulcan Salute, Vika and Eamon silently raised their hands and did the Vulcan Salute back to the TV. Ali was sandwiched between the two of them, looking at me with a "What the hell is this?" expression on her face. But by the end of the movie, Vix and Eames had her doing the Vulcan Salute too.

It was a fun evening, and the first time we've hung out with Ali alone in about 3 years (she usually brings a friend). Hopefully this will happen more in the future and our relationship with her will gradually be repaired.

Four years ago today, we first met Vika and Eamon at their orphanages in Murmansk, Russia. Metcha' Day is a big deal in our home. Every year we hold a Metcha' Day feast, where we share Russian dishes with family and watch the video from our first trip to Russia. And each year I marvel at how much the kids have grown and relive some of the emotions going through me that November 8th in 2005.

For those of you who are not adoptive parents, Metcha' Day is kind of like the day you gave birth to your child. An adoption labor lasts for months - preparing documents, going through background and psychiatric checks, waiting for a referral, and for some, the disappointment of having to decline or losing a referral. Then there is the trip to Russia, which is both exciting and exhausting. Finally, as you sit in a dingy orphanage waiting room, after a year of "paper pregnancy," your child walks in and you see him/her for the first time. You get to see the way they move and hear their voice. You get to hold and interact with them for the first time and learn how they feel and smell. It is an amazing event that will never, ever be forgotten. After months of waiting and planning and wondering, there your child is, in the flesh, and you know your life will never be the same again.

Here is our music montage video from our first trip to Russia. Most of you have seen this before, but it's kind of become a tradition to re-post it every year. Happy Metcha' Day Vika and Eamon!

For some reason, I can't shake this cold. I felt like I was getting better last week, but then it came up on me again, even worse than before. I went into school on Monday, but barely made it through class. Thank goodness I teach the morning kindergarten class, so I was able to leave in the afternoon without inconveniencing anyone too much. And I've been home ever since, resting on the couch and in bed, taking meds and drinking lots of tea.

The kids have been pretty good about me staying home sick. This morning they put together quite a surprise. Jeff went downstairs around 7:30 am, and I heard Vika and Eamon yell, "Surprise!" I went down and saw that not only had they gotten themselves up and ready for school, but they had set the table beautifully with a choice of cereals, milk, toast, and even a pot of tea (which is a very nice pot that we keep up high - I'm so glad they didn't get hurt or drop the dang thing while getting it down!). Despite the many opportunities they had to burn themselves with the hot tea or break various dining ware, Vika and Eamon took care of everything really well! My kids are growing up. The only mishap of the morning was provided by Jeff, who put a frozen loaf of bread in the microwave to defrost, while it was still in its plastic wrap with a gold label, and the loaf caught on fire. Vika said, "It's like a candle went off in there!" when looking at the scorched ceiling and melted plastic on the glass of the microwave. Poor Jeff. He's scrubbing the appliance as I type this.

Hopefully another day of rest at home will help me kick this cold once and for all. I'm going back to work tomorrow, and our Metcha Day feast is this Saturday, so I'd really like to get better now. In the meantime, I'll snuggle back with a pot of tea and a good book and enjoy the few hours of quiet I have until the kids get home from school.

Things have been a bit out of sync over here lately. There has been a lot of the good mixed in with the bad, and it's left me a tad off-balance.

First of all, I've had a cold for the past week and a half, and I can't seem to shake it. Fortunately, it has not been accompanied by fevers and body aches, so I don't believe it is the dreaded swine flu. Thank goodness for that! I would like this stuffiness and coughing to go away now, though. After a particularly rough night, Jeff woke me this morning with a hug and a "Morning Jen. I hate you." Then he kissed my head, tucked the blankets around me, and got up. He was teasing, of course, but I did keep him up all night with my coughing. My poor, long-suffering husband. ;)

Things have also been a little different with my step-daughter, Ali. The good news is that she's contacting us a bit more regularly now, and she even came out for Eamon's birthday (it was the first time she's ever celebrated that with us). It was nice to see her and have her spend time with the family again. The bad news is that every time she contacts us, there seems to be a crisis of some sort. Often she needs money desperately, and sometimes there are other tragic events. First her boyfriend broke his back, and this week, a good friend of hers from high school died, along with 3 others, in a car crash on her way back from Vegas. Ali is naturally devastated, and I feel so bad for her because over the past few years, she seems to have separated herself from many of her support systems. It must be terribly hard to be living alone in a city away from family and close friends, especially during a such a difficult time. It is my hope that this horrible tragedy will have a silver lining, and Ali will examine the way her life is going and come to value family relationships once again.

The final blow for my week came yesterday, on Halloween. As you know, Rupert has not been doing so well. The tumor on his foot has been getting bigger, and he has been dropping weight. However, he was still acting like himself for the most part, and the foot didn't seem to be giving him any pain. Until yesterday. He had begun to get lethargic, but he still followed me around the house, purring when I said his name. However, as he walked through the kitchen, we noticed some blood on the floor. I immediately put his foot in warm water to clean it, and, well, I'll spare you all the gory details and just say that the tumor had broken though the skin and it was all-around unpleasant. Funny thing is, it still didn't seem to be causing Rupert any discomfort. He let me clean his foot without so much as a wince. But I knew that it wouldn't be long before the tumor would become infected and cause him great pain. So I took him into the vet, and she agreed that it was time to let him go. She also validated my decision not to amputate the foot, which made me feel a lot better because when faced with the decision of euthanasia, I began to question whether or not I could have done more for Rupert. In the end, he went peacefully, and Jeff, Vika and Eamon were there to give me hugs when I left the hospital in tears (they were not in the room with me - Jeff took the kids outside to pick flowers).

Fortunately, we had trick-or-treating to take the kids' minds off the loss of Rupert. It cheered me up too, to see Eamon running with his skinny little legs in his Obi-Wan Kenobi costume, and Vika preening around as an Asian Princess. Eamon usually wears baggier boy clothes, so to see him in a tight-fitting costume was a bit like seeing a fluffy cat that had just been doused with water. I don't know where that boy packs away all the food he eats! Both kids had a great time trick-or-treating and passing out candy at my mom's house (every time there was a knock on the door they jumped up and yelled, "Customers!!!"). They even scored some Baby Ruths, which naturally, I took as soon as they were in bed.


It was a fun end to a roller-coaster-week. But hopefully the coming days will be a bit more relaxed and I'll finally kick this cold. I also hope that where ever Rupert is, he's happily flinging around a milk top and surrounded by toilets with the lids up (his disgustingly favorite source of water). Goodbye little man. I'll miss you.

Well, we're back. Back from our Disney World vacation and back to the daily grind. *sigh* It's always hard to return to normal life, but we did make some good memories on the trip. Here are a few highlights:

• As always, the FOOD. We love the Boma restaurant in the Animal Kingdom lodge and returned there this trip. Excellent African-inspired dishes and a delicious bread pudding with chocolate rum sauce for dessert! If you're heading to DisneyWorld in the future, I recommend checking this place out. Just make your reservations for sometime in the 4-5 pm hour, otherwise you may have to wait in long lines to get your food.
  
• We also went to the Coral Reef restaurant in Epcot, which was quite an experience. The entire wall is a window into a giant aquarium, and we were seated right next to it. The view, the food, and the service were all excellent. There's just something so relaxing about watching sea turtles and stingrays glide by as you enjoy a well-cooked meal.
• Meeting the Mad Hatter at breakfast. I'm not really an Alice in Wonderland fan - for some reason, I find it all a bit disturbing. But the guy who did the Mad Hatter was a lot of fun. He reminded me of many of the actors I worked with in musical theatre (IF you know what I mean....) and he sat and chatted with us for quite a while. Vika and Eamon were completely charmed by him, unlike the girl at the next table who ran to her mother, wailing hysterically as he approached.
• The absolute, number 1 highlight of this vacation for me was supplied by Eamon. Now, there's no way to sugar-coat this, but for much of the trip, the boy was a bit of a pansy. He got really scared on Splash Mountain and cried (with tears) through Big Thunder Mountain Railroad, screaming "I WANT TO GET OFF!" soon after the ride began. It was strange because he loved both rides last year at Disneyland - I'm not sure what happened to heighten his fear. In line for every ride we went of after Thunder Mountain, Eamon asked, "Is this one fast? Are there any bumps?" In the Winnie The Pooh ride line he asked this! So, Jeff and I pretty much agreed that Expedition Everest was not going to be Eamon's cup of tea (for those of you who haven't been to DW recently, it's a roller coaster that goes through "Mt. Everest" at high speeds, both forwards and backwards, with a close encounter of the Yeti kind). Finally, the day came when we were ready to tackle Everest. Jeff and I had devised a plan where we would take turns on the ride, so one of us could be with Eamon at all times. However, as we approached the line, Eamon said, "I wanna do it." "What?" I asked, "Are you sure?" Eamon replied, "Yes Mama, I think I can do it." As we walked through the line, Eamon was very quiet and tense, taking everything in. When it was our turn to get onto the train, Eamon sat down stiffly and began to shake. "Are you OK?" I asked, and he just nodded. Then the train began moving, and I looked over, prepared to see an expression of terror on the boy's face. What I saw instead completely surprised me - Eamon had lifted his hands in the air and was wearing a big smile on his face! He kept his hands up for most of the ride, sometimes letting out an exhilarated yell. The boy looked like he was having so much fun, only betraying his fear once towards the end of the ride when he asked, "Mama, is it almost over?" When I answered yes, he replied, "Good!" However, after the ride, Eames was completely giddy that he had done it. I was so proud of him for conquering his fear and enjoying the ride, and it was clear that he was pretty proud of himself too. What a little stud!
  

Unfortunately, all good things must end, so now we're home, with piles of laundry to do and groceries to buy (which I hope Jeff is out doing right now, since I'm plopped in front of the computer).

One other bit of news happened during my vacation. I got a call from the district offering me a teaching job! Kind of.... but I'll get to that in a bit. The original offer was to teach 2nd grade at the lowest performing school in the district. It wasn't an ideal position, but there are some benefits to teaching in the primary grades, regardless of the school, so I was prepared to accept it. Then, when I got home, I heard a rumor that I was put in a kindergarten position at my old school instead. I confirmed the rumor this afternoon, so now it looks as if I'll be teaching really little kids this year! It's going to be quite a change, but I'll be in a school I know, with teachers who are my friends and who will help me find my footing.

The main bummer about this whole thing is that this isn't a real teaching position. Our district is re-hiring laid-off teachers as "long-term subs," which means that we'll be doing all the same work, but for less than half of our regular teaching salary and no benefits. And, if I don't accept the position, then I'll be off the District re-hire list for good. Nice, don't you think? They may make it a temporary contract in October (what all newer teachers are hired under), which would get me back to my regular pay. If they don't though, I'll have to reassess what I'm going to do at that time. I mean, if they are going to pay me as a sub, with no benefits, than I might as well work as a day sub, with the flexibility and shorter hours justified by the lower pay (no after school meetings or evening/weekend grading). Hopefully that won't happen though and I, along with the other 60 teachers who have been hired back, will get a regular teaching contract. I'll keep you posted.

This is Rupert (with our brown tabby, Oona laying on top of him). Rupert Guaca Molay, to be precise. He came to our family when he was just 2 days old, eyes still closed and umbilical cord still attached. I was working in a Pet Hospital at the time, and a whole litter of newborn kittens was brought in, huddled together in a little shoebox. Six other employees and I each took one home, to bottle feed and eventually adopt out. Of the seven kittens, Rupert is the only one who survived. This is not due to my superior cat-raising skills, I assure you. The whole litter was just not healthy, and I think that Rupert may have been the strongest of the lot.

I remember those early days, waking up at all hours of the night to bottle feed this scruffy looking white kitten with a yellow stain on his back. He would scream out with a squeaky meow and would knead the air (we call it “making biscuits”) while I fed him. In fact, the only thing other than food that kept him quiet in those days was music by Sting. Go figure.

This little cat, despite his various anomalies, began to thrive and grow. The yellow stain on his back became a silver/gray patch that wound up extending to cover his head, half his face and his tail (which is striped, like a tabby’s). His eyes developed into a clear blue color, and his back legs grew to be much longer than his front, giving him a bit of a hot-rod-like appearance. People who met him would say, “Man, that is a freaky looking cat!” But I thought he was handsome, and when it came time to adopt him out, I decided that it would be better if he stayed with me instead.

And so he has been a member of our family for 14 years. He chirps in pleasure when I say his name and if I scratch him just right on the back of his neck, he starts grooming himself manically. He loves to play with the tabs you pull off the top of a bottle of milk, and will even mock fight you for them (his growling used to crack my brother up. The two of them engaged in many mock-milk-top-battles).

As Rupert has gotten older, his medical problems have increased. First it was feline acne, which would cause his face to swell up most unbecomingly. Then feline asthma was added to the mix, making him wheeze and cough like an old man. A few years ago he was diagnosed with mega-colon, a condition that causes him to get blocked up and requires daily medication (a laxative) with his food to keep the plumbing working properly.

Another medical blow was delivered last week. About a month ago, Rupert's back foot began to swell up. At first I thought it was a bug bite. He’s had swelling reactions to those before, and usually some oral Prednisone helps them go away. But this time it didn’t work. Then I began soaking the foot and prodding around to see if there was a bite wound or some other injury. I could find nothing, but the foot continued to swell. Friday, I took Rupert in to the vet and got the bad news. Rupert has a tumor on his back foot. While it’s pretty big and ugly, it doesn't seem to be giving him any pain. He's not limping, he doesn't flinch when I touch his foot, and he's eating and playing around normally. We don't know if the tumor is malignant or not, but pretty much the only treatment is to amputate the foot. Which there is no way in hell I am going to do. Rupert is 14 years old, and the thought of him going through the pain of an amputation and living out his remaining few years with a missing foot just seems wrong. Plus, if it is cancer, he'd have to go through chemo in addition to the amputation, which would be even worse. I just can’t see putting him through that, especially given all his other medical conditions. For now, he is his usual happy self, playing, eating and drinking normally, with an enlarged back foot. I guess we'll reassess if it starts to cause him pain, but until then, I'm going to let things ride. Hopefully the tumor is benign and will stay localized, adding to his freakish appearance while not being life-threatening. Only time will tell.

It's been pretty crazy over here at Four Feet More. First off, Vika has turned 8 years old. I know! My little girl is now 8! She's moving into that preteen phase and is growing up way too fast. For her birthday this year, she asked for (and received) a pair of texting devices. This was her second choice after we told her there was no way she was getting a cell phone at 8 years old. On the up-side, the texters are Hello Kitty, and Vika wanted them primarily to text with me, so she's still my little girl. For a while, anyway.

My dad came out to visit from Tennessee again this summer and was here for Vika's birthday. It's become a bit of an annual event - him coming out in July. The kids enjoyed hanging out with their "Deydushka Joe," and it was good for him to meet my brother's baby Tyson as well. Even though my dad doesn't really do kids, he was pretty tolerant of Eamon's excessive manhandling and Vika's incessant chatter. He may have even enjoyed it to some extent. I think.

So, Vika is now 8, going on 18. She also, much to my dismay, loves country music. I blame my mother for this, and she gleefully takes responsibility for my daughter's crushes on Brad Paisley and Jason Aldean. Well, in an extreme show of love for my daughter, I am going to subject myself to 6 hours straight of country music this evening. Laurie, a close family friend (kind of a sister-in-law, really), managed to score us free tickets to see Kenny Chesney and Sugarland in San Francisco tonight. It's actually a big country music festival with other acts like Lady Antebelem, Miranda Lambert, and Montgomery Gentry. Whoever they are. So, Vika, Laurie and I are doing a Girls' Night Out, and I plan to get schooled in country. Hopefully Vika will have a great time and this will be a fitting finale to her birthday week!