Four Feet More

Dear Vika,

Today you turn nine years old.  This birthday officially marks your entry into tweenhood (God help us).  But those of us who know you personally know that you've been a pre-teen since the age of 4!  Don’t worry.  We all think your mature attitude is part of your charm.  When it’s not driving us crazy.  

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!

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!

This weekend marked a very special occasion. On Sunday evening, my good friend Jaime got married to a great guy, and I had the honor of being her bridesmaid (which I prefer to the more stout sounding "brides matron").

James and I met nearly 15 years ago while working at a highly dysfunctional Pet Hospital, which despite being populated with crazy people was where I met my three best friends (not sure what that says about me - make of it what you will). I worked there first, and was joined by Mel a few years later. Then Jaime entered our group as the "young one", and the three of us have been friends ever since (for those of you keeping count, the third best friend I met at the Pet Hospital was Jeff - the UPS guy who made our deliveries). Despite having vastly different personalities, the three of us just work well together. We accept each other’s eccentricities and annoying personality traits, and our time together is always filled with lots of laughter.

This weekend was no different. Between games of Bocce Ball, spa treatments at Mel’s house and a slumber party Saturday night, were moments of doubled over laughter. However, the most memorable events occurred at the wedding reception.

Being the good bridesmaids and friends that we are, Mel and I swore to be “on it” for Jaime, no matter what. Well, these duties went a little further than I had imagined. Assistance in the bathroom I could easily predict because hey, wedding dresses are big and unwieldy. Can’t have them getting soiled while the bride does her business. What I did not anticipate however, was the rogue toilet-seat cover that attempted to stick with James as she was leaving the stall. I definitely took one for the team when I removed that thing! Then there was the bizarre incident (this happened several times, really), where Mel, James and I were the only people on the dance floor. During “Hey Ya!” by Outcast, the rest of the wedding guests were sitting back, watching the three of us dance as if we were on stage or something. Even the photographers were surrounding us, taking pictures. It was as if there was some tradition of the Bride/Bridemaids dance or something. So bizarre. And I felt like a complete ass because truthfully, I’m not the most gifted dancer, and having everyone’s attention on me as I attempted to “shake my groove thang” was torturous. But, Jaime wanted to dance, so dance I did with a big smile plastered to my face.

Unfortunately, when a couple joined us on the dance floor, it was the mother-of-the-groom (who is in her late fifties) and her 34-year-old boyfriend. Now, I’m not going to judge her too harshly for choosing a cougar lifestyle. Hey, more power to her, really. I will however, judge her for her and her Boy Toy’s antics on the dance floor. Let’s just say that there was a lot of grouping, grinding, and general unseemliness going on. At one point, mother-of-the-groom was straddling Boy Toy, legs locked around his waist as he ground into her. It was not becoming. In fact, I flashed back to junior high, where school dances always consisted of clumps of girls dancing, boys all sitting/standing on the outskirts of the room, too “cool” to join in, and the creepy couple making out on the dance floor. Fortunately, Jaime and Patric seemed able to blow the whole thing off and have a good time anyway.

Despite his mother’s unfortunate choice of boyfriends, Patric really is a great guy and is perfect for Jaime. During the first half of our 15-year friendship, James was with a pretty damaging person who did not come close to deserving her. I’m so happy to see her settling down with a man who truly loves her for who she is, and will put up with her, rogue toilet seat covers and all.

Congratulations Jaime and Patric! I hope you both are having a wonderful honeymoon and look forward to hanging out when you get back!

Eamon is turning 7 today. He’s changed so much over the past 4 years that he’s almost a different child than the one we adopted.

Before he was quiet and unsure. Doctors said he had a “speech delay.” Now he talks a mile a minute about anything that enters his mind - a verbal stream-of-consciousness - but usually about Transformers or Star Wars.

At 3 years old, he was very small, wearing clothes for an 18 month old. Now he’s caught up to his peers and seems so tall sometimes that I stare at him in wonder. What happened to my little munchkin?

When we adopted Eamon, he was shy and uncertain of his safety in this new life with his new family. Now he is open and extroverted, unashamed to do his freaky dance in a room full of strangers, and always wanting to make people smile. In restaurants, he walks the long way back from the bathroom so that he can catch the eye of other diners and say, “Good day!” Often as we leave, he points out all his new friends, waving goodbye to each as we pass.

Eamon has grown a lot in 4 years and it is amazing to see how far he has come. He will often say things like, “Mama, I wonder what I’m going to be like when I’m a grown up?” Truth be told, I often wonder that as well. But then I see him putting on his tie so that he can look good for Babushka, and I smile, knowing that he’s going to be quite a remarkable man, indeed.

Eamon the day after we brought him home (Christmas, 2005)

Eamon this Summer

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!

Since I had my choice for this week's You Capture, and because the 4th of July is right around the corner, I decided to capture the symbol of our nation's Independence, the American flag. For most of my life, Independence day has meant BBQs, fireworks, and summer memories with the family. However, after teaching 5th grade (where we study American History), I've acquired a bit of a different perspective on the holiday. Reading about the great men and women who fought for America's independence from Britain, their trials and victories, has made this holiday and our flag mean so much more.

John Adams said in a letter to his wife Abigail (of the original Independence Day - which was actually July 2, 1776), "I am apt to believe that it will be celebrated by succeeding generations as the great anniversary festival." It's kind of cool to know that his prediction came true, even if he was off by 2 days. I wonder what he would think about the various ways the holiday is celebrated and our flag is depicted today (on clothing and home decor, for example)?

Another piece of American trivia for you: Both John Adams and Thomas Jefferson died on July 4, 1826 - 50 years to the day from the birth of the country they helped found. Isn't that an interesting coincidence?

OK, I'll let my teacher side slip for now and show you the photos.

Happy 4th of July (3 days early)!

After numerous "false starts," my nephew was born on Wednesday night at 7:39 pm. I spoke with my brother earlier that evening, around 5:30 pm, and he and Angie were returning home from the hospital. Apparently there had been some bleeding and contractions, but the Labor & Delivery staff checked Ange out and said to go home and rest because it wasn't time to deliver the baby yet. However, as soon as they got home, Angie knew that the contractions were real this time and the baby would be here soon. So, at 6 pm, they called to let us know they were heading back to the hospital. Mom, of course, was ready to drop everything and head to the hospital right then. But Ed and I talked her into having some dinner first. Elaborate plans were made to get Jeff and the kids home if the delivery lasted well into the night, and mom and I packed plenty of activities to keep us occupied as we hunkered down in the L&D waiting room.

Such planning proved to be unnecessary though - much to my mother's frustration. While we were all in traffic, heading to the hospital, Joe texted mom saying, "He's coming right now!" Jeff, the kids and I arrived about 5 minutes later, and mom and Ed got there not too long afterwards.

As we entered the L&D waiting room, a trio of people in their 60's (2 women, one man) greeted us brightly, syaing, "Who are you here for? You must be the sister!" I stared at them in confusion for a moment, wondering if they knew Joe and Angie, but they quickly cleared that up saying they had been waiting for their grandchild for over 30 hours! Their daughter (and daughter-in-law, I assume) when into labor the day before and was now being prepped for a C-section. Soon after this explanation, Joe came into the waiting room to collect us saying, "You guys ready to come meet him?" The trio's jaws dropped open in astonishment. "But didn't you just get here?!" they asked. Joe, in his soft-spoken, "Dude" way said, "Yeah, I know. Crazy, huh?" We left them sitting there, stunned speechless for a moment (hopefully they were able to see their daughter and grandchild soon afterward).

We shuffled into the hall outside the delivery room, joined shortly by mom and Ed, and waited to meet Tyson. We could hear him screaming inside, and this made the kids a bit nervous. I told them that he's never breathed air before, so it must feel pretty weird on his little lungs. When this didn't comfort them, I added that since babies don't know how to talk, the only way they can communicate is through crying. Vika and Eamon nodded in understanding at this and were ready to go into the room.

Ty was wrapped up like a little baby burrito, and for a newborn, he was really cute. I guess the quick delivery helped prevent him from looking all blotchy and squished. We passed him around, while Joe beamed in happiness and Ange smiled wearily. Vika and Eamon were fascinated by him at first, but quickly lost interest when they saw he didn't really do anything. Laurie, Angie's SIL, provided the entertainment for the evening. First, she discovered the placenta in a bucket by the sink. Never having seen one before, she was both freaked out and curious. Out came her camera to snap a quick picture of the gooey mass. Then she began snooping through all the drawers in the room, looking at instruments and exclaiming, "What's that for?!" It was quite amusing to watch. Finally I said with a laugh, "Laurie, the baby's over here."

Surprisingly, Vika had a hard time in the hospital room. She wasn't badly-behaved or anything, but she got that "small mouth" look that comes across her face when she's scared. Seeing the all the instruments and needles in Angie's arm didn't help, and I think the whole hospital vibe just threw her off. She finally curled up on the chair, covered her head with my jacket and tried to get some sleep. It was very strange to see my strong, confident little girl hiding away from the events going on around her. She told me later that she felt bad because "everyone was paying attention to Tyson, and no one was really playing with us." Poor kid. She and Eamon aren't the "new ones" in the family anymore, and she's worried that people will lose interest in them. Hopefully, over time, those fears will fade.

For now, I leave you with a picture I snapped of Ty in the delivery room. I love this shot because he's smiling! I know, it was probably just gas, but he still looks cute. So, without further ado, my new nephew, Tyson Anthony.


P.S. Fortunately, the whole "How did Tyson come out" discussion never came up. I've dodged that bullet for now!

This weekend marked a very special anniversary in our household - three years ago, on November 8th, 2005, we met our kids for the first time. I'm not going to post the family video this year, but if you want to check it out, click here.

Instead, I'm going to tell you how we celebrate this occasion in our family. For the last 3 years we have had a "Metcha' Day Dinner," to which we invite family and friends. We always serve Russian food, so our guests are required to be adventurous. Here is the menu:

• Appetizers: Salmon Blini, sardines and crackers, and salmon caviar.
• First course: Borscht with dark Russian bread and butter
• Entree: Golubtsi (Russian cabbage rolls) and Gypsy Potato Paprikash
• Desert: Russian tea cakes and wafer cookies (which the people at the orphanage referred to as "cake.")
  

The beverage selection for adults includes vodka and strong Russian tea, and sparkling juice for the kids (which Eamon still calls "peeva").

Jeff and I enjoyed the food in Russia so much, that this has become one of our most anticipated meals of the year. Vika also loves it since borscht is her favorite food and she could eat a whole plate of sardines in one sitting. It's fun to introduce family and friends to the flavors we experienced while meeting and adopting our kids.

This year's Metcha' Day Dinner was especially successful. Our friends attended as well as my family, and we all had a great time swapping stories and hanging out. Mel, who's a NICU nurse, has some especially crazy delivery-room stories, which she thoughtfully decided to share after dinner was over. Vika and Eamon also had a great time playing with Chad (Mel's son) and stayed up until 11 pm, running around, laughing and dressing Chadly up as a "rock star."

Sadly, none of Jeff's family chose to attend. I'm still a bit annoyed and hurt by their continued disregard of our family. I don't understand why they make no effort to be a part of our lives or get to know Vika and Eamon. But in the end, I have to remind myself that it is their loss - and really, no one missed them much anyway.

It's funny how the idea of family shifts over time. Sitting at around a table laughing with my friends, listening to my family discuss politics at the next table, and watching the kids play with their "cousin" Chad, I felt content and surrounded by love. What more could you ask for when celebrating the anniversary of the best day of your life?

Today you turn 6. It seems like an eternity ago you were turning 3 in an orphanage, completely unaware that we were out here, thinking about you and hoping that you were having a good birthday. We were waiting to go to Russia to meet you and Vika for the first time, and were quite saddened by the fact that you would spend yet another birthday without a family to celebrate it with you.

Those days are long gone now, and the little boy whose picture I stared at 3 years ago is so different from the boy you are today. The mischievous sparkle in your eyes and your goofy little grin never fail to put a smile on my face. Your affectionate nature and kissable cheeks make me want to hold you in my arms for hours. Although you can only stand being there for a few minutes before you are off to do something else. Often you will say, “I love you Mama!” while doing everyday things, like coloring a picture or watching TV. Even though you seem to say it with very little thought, it still warms my heart every single time.

Your face is so expressive, that we can always tell what you are thinking, even before you say a word. Because of this (and the “Lollipop Guild” way you quirk your mouth) Papa and I say you have a “rubber face.” It’s part of your charm, and I hope it never changes. You are also an old soul, understanding things on a deeper level than most children your age. If someone is sad or hurt, you are the first to try to help him or her feel better. You find genuine happiness in the happiness of others.

Eamon, you are a remarkable young man, and every day I feel lucky that you are a part of my family. You are the son I was always meant to have – my little buddy and the delight of my heart.

Happy birthday little man. I hope you have a wonderful day and get all the Star Wars toys your heart desires!

A few weeks ago, Eamon reached a major milestone in his short life: he graduated from preschool. Now, I know some preschools have their kids wear caps and gowns, and they give the occasion an atmosphere of importance seen at high school and college graduations. In fact, one family I know had a graduation party for their 5-year old, renting a hall, hiring a caterer, and inviting 200 people.

Well, this may come as a surprise, but we didn't take Eamon's preschool graduation quite so seriously. Luckily, neither did his preschool. They called it a "crossing the bridge" ceremony rather than a graduation, and the only attire stipulation was that the kids dress in their favorite outfit.

For Eamon, this meant his Darth Vader costume.

He was actually looking pretty fierce, until his teachers gave him a gold top hat to wear during the ceremony. It was all a bit Sith Lord meets "A Chorus Line," but Eamon was happy, and it provided us with good blackmail photographs for his teen years. :)

Here are my excuses. First of all, we’ve been decompressing after our trip to Disneyland. Which was awesome! Some highlights:

• Vika was selected to become a Padawan at the Jedi Training Academy. And she was FIERCE! Seriously, Darth Vader was shaking in his boots when he had to face her. Vika even got to stand in the place of honor next to the Jedi Master, who had a little comedic interlude with her while she looked at him as if he were crazy. Good job playing right into his hands Vix! I did feel a little bad for Eamon though, who wanted to be a Jedi in the worst way. He was just too small to be selected. He was also very scared of Darth Maul, so it was probably best that he didn’t get picked for the training.
• Meeting with my best friend Mel and her family on her son Chad’s 3rd birthday. We had a breakfast with Minnie and Friends, and later met for dinner at the Blue Bayou and watched fireworks over the castle. Unfortunately, we were in a “secret spot” behind the castle, so we spent the whole time frantically turning our heads from side to side because the fireworks were exploding all around us. We were right under Tinkerbell though (I couldn’t confirm the rumor that she is actually a large man in a fairy costume), and it was a spectacular show.
• Going on Splash Mountain with Eamon. It was his first time on the ride, and he let out this huge, victorious belly laugh after we made it down safely through the briar patch drop.
• Going on Indiana Jones with Vika for her first time. She was scared to death in line and on the ride, but when it was over, she looked at me and exclaimed, “That was FRICKIN’ AWESOME!!!” (note to self – stop using the word “frickin’” around the children).
• Watching fireworks with Jeff outside of our hotel room. It was our first night at the resort, and the kids were already asleep (although how they could sleep through all that thunderous noise is a mystery). Jeff and I slipped out onto a little balcony area with our cups of hot tea and watched the fireworks display. It was a nice little bit of alone time after a long day on the road.

After returning from Disneyland, we had two other family events. First was Vika’s 7th birthday. We did a mini-celebration at home on Monday, and then did a bigger joint celebration with my mom (who’s birthday was Friday) at my brother Joe’s house. Joe has a pool, and Vika learned to swim without floaties! She was so excited to be chugging around the water in her little goggles, and wowed us all with her swim moves. Eamon was content to keep the floaties on and take running jumps into the pool. Over and over again. He also coaxed his Uncle Joe-Monkey into throwing him high into the air so he could splash down into the water. Again and again.
















The second family event is my dad’s visit from Tennessee. He’s been here almost a week now, and the kids have really enjoyed hanging out with him and visiting with the rest of the family. Eamon has become Dad's little shadow, following him around everywhere. Both kids will miss him after he leaves.

Tomorrow, dad returns home, and my life should return to normal. Or our family’s definition of normal anyway. I have one other exciting development to write about, but I’m going to do that in a separate post. I don’t want it to get lost in this quickly-thrown-together-recap of our week.

Today, my little girl turns seven. SEVEN! It seems just yesterday she was the spunky four year old we adopted. Now she’s a soon-to-be second grader who insists she’s acting differently today because she’s no longer six. As I watch her mopping the kitchen floor in her Tinkerbell wings (she wants to earn some extra chore points on her birthday), I think she may be right.

Vika still continues to surprise me with her observations and humor, just as she continues to test me with her stubbornness and need to be right in all things. She’s a strong little girl, who is very sure of herself. As the director of her orphanage told us, “she knows her worth.”

Vika also has a very generous spirit and loves to make gifts for people. When we were getting ready to go to Disneyland, she set everything aside so that she could write a letter and draw a picture to give to Mickey Mouse. At the character breakfast, she handed the rolled-up scroll to Minnie Mouse, asking her to give it to Mickey when she saw him (he wasn’t at breakfast). Later that day, we did run into Mickey, and when Vika asked him if her got her gift, he nodded and put both hands over his heart, as if it was the best gift he’d ever received. Vika beamed with happiness, thrilled that Mickey had liked her letter.

That’s my girl. Stubborn and argumentative to a fault, but thoughtful and loving as well. It is my hope that her strength of character will serve her well as she gets older, and that her playful nature will continue to charm those around her. I can’t wait to see what the future brings.

Happy birthday Vika! We love you more than all the fish in the sea and all the stars in the sky.

Eamon lost his second tooth yesterday, thereby making a double-wide gap in his bottom teeth. He was very excited about the impending tooth fairy visit and insisted that we read "The Night Before the Tooth Fairy" (we were supposed to read this book when he lost his first tooth, but were out late that evening and didn't have time). All day, Eamon kept reminding me about the book, and when bedtime came and we settled in to read it, he was beaming.

After the story, we placed his tooth carefully in his special "Tooth Fairy" pillow and put him to bed. Then Jeff and I watched a "Daily Show," talked bit, and went to bed. Without checking the pillow.

This morning, around 7 am Jeff wakes me up and says, "Jen! Did the Tooth Fairy come?" I snapped out of my grogginess in a panic and gasped, "No!" Thus began "Operation Tooth Fairy." Jeff crept downstairs to get the dollar and snuck into Eamon's room to do the exchange. I listened quietly without moving lest I wake the boy up. Jeff returned a while later, looking a bit agitated and asked, "Did you put the tooth in the pillow?! I can't find it!" He went back into the room again, I heard a bit of scuffling, and then he came back, shoving the tooth pillow at me. Eamon's tooth had lodged itself into the bottom point of the star pocket on front. I dug the tooth out, Jeff stuffed in the dollar, and quietly put the pillow back in Eamon's room.

Then, we waited. Last time, Eamon woke up at 6:30 am to check out his loot. This time, fortunately, he slept a bit later. Finally, around 7:30 am, he came running into our room yelling "YAY!" and waving his dollar in the air.

Whew. Disaster averted. No thanks to the dang Tooth Fairy. Slacker.

Eamon lost his first tooth this weekend! He casually mentioned to me on Thursday morning that he had to be careful when he ate because he had a loose tooth. I asked to feel it, thinking it would be as well rooted as ever, but to my surprise, the tooth was so loose that it was practically falling out of his head! What a difference from Vika, who, let's face it, can be a bit dramatic at times. With her first loose tooth, we had to endure weeks of her wiggling the thing (she began as soon as she detected the slightest bit of movement), asking when it would come out, and speculating on how much money the tooth fairy would leave her (for the record, it's $2 for the first tooth, $1 for every tooth thereafter).

Finally, the tooth became so loose that it was time to pull it out. Jeff attached a hemostat to the tooth, placed Eamon's fingers around it, and asked him to push the clamp away from his mouth. That way Eames was in control and could stop if he got scared or it hurt. Well, he pushed really hard and just yanked the thing out like a champ! Then, he saw the blood... His little face went pale, and his legs began shaking. He walked around for the next 5 minutes with his mouth held rigidly open (if he closed it, he might taste blood) and gauze squeezed between his teeth. I guess he has a bit of the drama queen (drama king?) in him as well.

Here he is, the gap-toothed version of my son. Since the boy is incapable of smiling normally or standing still for a picture, this is the best I could get:

Jeff RULES. Really. And to think, all I got him was a couple of books! They are cool books though: The Dangerous Book for Boys and Knitting With Balls (A Hands-on Guide to Knitting for the Modern Man).

This completely vindicates him from the Christmas gift he gave me about 8 years ago - a vacuum cleaner!

Jeff and I met when I was 19. I was working as a “kennel girl” in a local pet hospital, and he was the UPS driver who delivered our supplies. I was attracted to him the moment I saw him. How could I not be, when he strutted around so confidently in those cute little brown shorts and boots? I even once made my way to a coffee shop near the pet hospital where he was making a delivery in an attempt to “cross paths” and get his attention. Much to my dismay, the plan didn’t work.

After I became a receptionist at the pet hospital, I saw Jeff on a more regular basis. At first his brooding intensity captivated me, in a Mr. Darcy kind of way. My friend Mel and I decided to make it our personal mission to get him to crack a smile. All efforts failed, and the “brooding intensity” thing quickly lost its appeal.

Then, in the summer after I graduated from college, everything changed. My friends and I went to Miyake’s, a wild sushi restaurant near Stanford where a disco ball hung from the ceiling and patrons stood on their chairs doing “sake bombs” as servers and diners cheered them on. Unbeknownst to Mel and I, our antics were being observed. The next day at work, the “UPS Man” (or “Mr. Personality” as we had snarkily begun calling him) walked in, looked at us with a poker face and said, “Ichi, ni, san! Sake bomb!” Our jaws dropped to the floor and I believe I turned about a thousand shades of red. This marked the turning point in our relationship. Jeff began talking to me and Mel, and we soon discovered the he wasn’t a brooding type of person at all. He had been treated pretty rudely by our boss on several occasions (she wasn’t that nice of a person), and therefore made his visits to the pet hospital as brief and impersonal as possible.

It wasn’t long before Jeff decided to ask for my phone number. He went to the payphone around the corner from the pet hospital and called the front desk. He had some romantic thing planned, I’m sure, but Mel saw him in the phone booth on her way into work. In her forthright manner, she asked him what he was doing, decided he was going to ask me out, and then rushed into the reception area saying, “Jen, you’re relieved. I’m taking the front desk. Go outside to the phone booth now!” At that same moment, my rude boss looked at me with a smirk and said, “Jenni, the ‘ups man’ is on the phone for you.”

The rest, as they say, is history. Jeff and I began dating not long after, and with the exception of one 24-hour period when we broke-up, have been together ever since.

During our whole “getting-to-know-you” phase, I was shocked to learn that Jeff was 10 1/2 years older than me. He certainly didn’t look it, and, if I’m honest, didn’t really act it either. I decided that he was a nice enough guy that I would bend my personal rule about not dating anyone more than 10 years older than me, and not hold his age against him. Other than the times when we discuss “Star Wars” (I was 4 when it hit theatres, he was 15), the age thing doesn’t come into play all that often.

On Wednesday, my dear husband turned 45. This is the 12th birthday I have spent with him, and I’m pleased to say that over the years, we have only grown closer. We’ve weathered his transition from UPS Man to Real Estate Broker, and my transition from the pet hospital to large university/children’s hospital, to teacher. Jeff and I have seen and done some pretty amazing things together, the most significant of which was adopting Vika and Eamon. He’s a wonderful spouse, a devoted father, and a great friend.

Happy birthday Jeff. The kids and I love you like crazy, and look forward to many more birthdays shared with you in the years to come.


Jeff at Chitzen Itza













On our honeymoon in the Outback













At Oktoberfest (don't know what I was thinking with that hair!)


















Together in Arizona

Our little girl is no longer 5. On Saturday, she turned 6, and really, she couldn't have been prouder. We had a little pool party for her at my brother's house, and she and Eamon had a blast swimming around and playing with "Joe-Monkey" on the slip-n-slide.


Other than a few bouts of temper, Vika's birthday went really well. Eamon was a little champ too! He sat calmly, watching her open her gifts, without feeling resentful that none were for him. He was even excited about what she was getting and cheering her on! I was incredibly proud of him, and of Vika, for being grateful for her gifts, and not doing the frown-and-toss-aside thing I've seen other kids her age do.

One gift, for which Vika is especially thankful, is a hot pink, sparkly flapper costume that her older sister, Ali, got for her. In fact, she has been wearing it ever since, and has even asked if she could wear it to school when she starts 1st grade (that would be a "No"). Currently, she's prancing around the house, like some miniature Vaudeville act, with pink sparklies bouncing off the walls wherever she goes. :)

Happy birthday to you Vika, my temperamental little flapper! We love you like crazy, even when you're sitting in a time-out.

Happy Anniversary Jeff! 5 years and 2 kids later, it's been one heck of a ride.

Here's to the memories we've made and those yet to be created!*


* Jeff and I have been married for 5 years, but these photos were taken over the 11 years we've been together.