Friday, September 28, 2007
It's an endless source of amusement to our kids that both E. and I are capable of bawling as we read them certain books. E. just finished reading aloud The Last Battle, the final Narnia book, tonight (to A. and P., this time), and that final chapter did her in. Somehow, she struggled to the end, gulping back the tears, but it wasn't easy. I would've been no better, having done the same thing. I've also been reduced to tears reading aloud from the final chapter of The Lord of the Rings. And both E. and I are nearly incapable of reading aloud from The Christmas Miracle of Jonathan Toomey (a wonderful picture book). The only way we can get through it is to read tag team.
I think that as I get older, I find myself more emotionally vulnerable (?) to stories. In certain literature classes that I teach, there have been times when I've nearly broken down in tears reading aloud to the class. This has happened with passages from King Lear, poems by Dylan Thomas (and others), and Flannery O'Connor stories. -- And I'm grateful that E. shares this proclivity. How awful it would be to have a spouse who was baffled by or dismissive of this quirk.
Of course, this doesn't mean that we don't enjoy reading these stories! It just means we have to keep the tissues handy. Ah well, it amuses the children. And I have no doubt that at least some of them will suffer the same fate.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
His first repetitive phrase was, "But it not". This one lasted most of the winter, and while it was trying to hear him use it ad infinatum, it has become a family catch phrase. TM also spent a lot of time this winter comparing things, "That car is like our car....but it not." "That ____ is like ____ ... but it not." You get the idea. Then one day we realized we couldn't think when the last time we heard TM say, "But it not". I wasn't sad at the time, but I kind of miss it now.
"But it not" was replaced by "It a long, long day." As you can guess, this was useful as he spent the spring trying to figure out how long things lasted. I didn't find "It a long, long day" quite as endearing and was not sad to see it go.
Now, evidently, TM feels the need to conquer size and the phrase of the season is, "As big as the whole world." It is with great relief that I tell you that TM seems to be reducing his need for repetitive phrases and that the food on his plate is NOT "As big as the whole world."
I fear that I will look back on this phase and think how easy I had it. You see, TM, who along with his very inquisitive mind, also has a need to conquer his physical world through muscle and speed. He has amazing physical strength and agility and seems to be something of an adrenalin junkie. His dearest wish right now is to be able to ride faster than B (who's 12) on his bicycle, and if he could do that while riding with no hands life would be just about perfect. J and I sometimes torture ourselves by imagining what sort of high risk career TM will be drawn to. Fighter pilot, NASCAR driver, and X-Game participant are all things that have come to mind.
On the adoption front, still no word that K's dossier has been approved. I was really thinking last Friday was the day we would hear something....but it not.
Saturday, September 22, 2007
In order to make the new sink fit, J. had to remove the "soap dish" which had been "installed". This is what lay underneath. So, on top of the sink, tile work was also required. (Yes, that is wood and rubble you are looking at.)
So, after four weekends, five trips to the hardware store, a new drill bit, and some choice words for the manufacturer of the cheapest sink that our big box home improvement store sells, we have a new sink....The bathroom is still ugly, but a little more functional. And we can turn off the water supply without running down two flights of stairs!
Friday, September 14, 2007
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
A part of me hesitates to write this because I don't want it to sound as though I regret adopting TM, or I don't love him, or that my life is completely miserable because he is our son. None of those statement is true in the least. TM's trauma is not who he is. Who he is is a bright, talkative, thoughtful, energetic, obedient, cheerful, dinosaur-, plane-, and truck-loving boy whom I am proud to call my son. Dealing with his trauma is just something that is a part of life. It seems little different to me than the fact all of our biological children have to suffer through the bad collision of genes that make up their mouths. They all have very narrow mouths and very large teeth, the roots of whom do not dissolve on their own, but must be pulled. We know our orthodontist and oral surgeon quite well by now, and there are still two to go. But wearing braces and expanders does not define them, even though application, care, and maintenance (not to mention the price) of all that metal can be a pain...it's just what has to be done. I think the tricky part is that it is so much easier to apply this to issues that can be seen, it is more difficult to do this when the issue is emotional. It takes a while to find out who the real child is underneath the fear.
Thursday, September 06, 2007
Wash as much kale as you are going to eat. (I use two bunches and never have leftovers.) Rip it into largish size pieces...potato chip size. Place them in a mixing bowl and mix well with olive oil...I don't have an amount, just until they are all coated. Place the pieces in a single layer on a baking sheet and sprinkle with salt. Bake for 10-12 minutes in a 350 degree oven until the kale is crisp but not brown.