What a journey blogging has been. I started off with a simple desire to keep in touch with my fellow isolated friends, moms who had chosen to stay at home with their kids and whom I had not seen or talked to in...a long time. I don't know about them, but I would periodically wonder what they were up to. Just in case they wondered the same about me, I thought I would feed a few tidbits on the blog. But just the best tidbits.

I displayed cute pictures of my kids, related cute antics, wrote brilliantly philosophical yet humorous pieces, and waited for the responses to come pouring in. Instead I got crazy comments from one sister and "don't you have anything better to do" kind of comments from my other sister.

My husband encouraged me to market my blog. Either he really liked what I had to say, or he really liked the idea of me earning money. I prefer to think the former. So I got busy marketing my blog. He turned my stat counter on. I perused countless blogs each day and left little snippets on their comment section, so that they would do likewise on mine. The husband signed me up for Facebook and set it so that every post would show up on my page. I actually objected to having a FB account! Today, in my thoroughly FB-obsessed state, I find that hard to imagine.

A funny thing happened once I had friends on FB. I started to censor what I wrote on my blog. If I wanted to comment on Prop 8, for example, I was afraid my gay or straight friends on FB would be insulted. I cared for these people, I didn't want them to be offended in such an impersonal manner as on a blog. Screw the strangers, but my FB friends were relatives, friends from college, neighbors who hadn't yet seen my bad side.

And so my well dried up. In my effort to please everyone, I ran out of things to say. Fortuitously, I also ran out of time to blog. Homeschooling had turned into a race for time each day. Even after my challenging son went back to school, I needed the extra time to play, read, and bond with the other kids, instead of just, say, telling them to shush and go away so that Mommy can complete a crucial but fleeting thought. Ironically, I just told my kids this during this paragraph.

My blog posts became more and more infrequent.Worse, they were lackluster. Eventually, I took my blog link off FB and resigned to return when the kids were older (like college-aged). 

Much to my surprise, I missed blogging. All these years, I thought writing was a chore, an essay analysis to be done for a Nathaniel Hawthorne novel. What I discovered through blogging is that I know more vocabulary words than I ever thought, I'm a better photographer than I thought, and I have more brain cells than I thought. Blogging trained me to look for highlights in my day to share. I was ready at all times with my camera to snap anything remotely interesting and even those things that were not. Each day, I actively searched for things to document. I was more present in my day. I miss that.

So I'm back. This time, I'm not going to market my blog. I will tell my sisters, of course, because what would I ever do without their crazy comments. But I'm not going to link my blog to facebook, and I'm not going to read other people's blog just so they'll read mine. Even if no one except for my sisters and hubby ever know I'm blogging again, I'll be happy knowing that my words are here on the internet, which as everyone knows, means it'll be here forever. This time, I'm doing it for the right reason.

Post VBS Bliss

Last year I was a big baby and blogged about the hellishness of having vacation bible school and swim practice on the same days. This year I grew up a little, which is good considering I turned 40 last month (more on that later). I enjoyed both VBS and swim practice tremendously and wouldn't have given up either one for more sleep, and that is saying a lot.

We're talking over 2000 kids!

Originally I had hoped to sit out this VBS and kick back. But my oldest begged me to be her leader. I told her, please I need a break, but like always she ignored me. She gave me the old unfairness line, that it was so unfair that I was her sister's leader last year and not anyone else's. By the way, that ploy doesn't work on me; if it's one thing I've learned from having 4 kids who are complete opposites, it's that every kid needs something different.

I finally gave in, not because of her fairness logic but because I was surprised that she really wanted me as her leader. This was after an entire year of being taught by moi, an entire year of me ordering her around during school and after hours. If she still wants me after all that, who am I to deny her? This is also just a few years before she she hits adolescence, before she starts to draw away from me and starts denying me publicly. I may forget my children's names from time to time, but I still recognize a good opportunity when I come across it!

It is amazing how many good outcomes have arisen because I've been forced to do something for the kids.

I loved being a group leader for 4th grade. The kids were smart, sweet, and fun. I didn't have to drag anyone to the restroom and tell them to just try, like I had to last year, and I didn't worry if occasionally one kid wandered off on his own. The kids were old enough to understand the real gist of the gospel message, instead of just being stuck on Jesus as a mere friend. And I got to sing and dance along with Jana Alayra, instead of being a bystander who is too mature to do silly dance moves. (Jana is to Christian children's music like Gaga is to mediocre synthesizer music with stupid outfits).

What I loved most was getting to know the kids. While we stood around and waited for our activity rotations, the kids often opened up about their families and lives. One kid gave me his entire itinerary for his upcoming trip, another blabbed on about her parents and siblings, spilling secrets her parents would have been horrified about.

During one conversation with a set of fraternal twins, the larger twin remarked that he actually ate much less than his smaller twin. They told me that the smaller twin eats almost double the food as the larger twin. I said something innocuous to the smaller twin, like "Where does it all go?" He then proceeded to go into detail about his bowel movements, telling me how often he goes and how big they are. I am not kidding.

Apparently, the male obsession with BM's begin early.

Now that I've been the leader for two of my kids, I'm pretty much committed to doing this for the other two. After that, the first two want another turn. Translation: I'll be volunteering at VBS until I die. Or at least until I'm too old to dance to praise songs. At which point you can consider me as good as dead.

VBS rocks! And I'm not just saying that because it's over.

All About the Husband

...from the kids' perspectives.

1. My dad's job is...to work with computers, paint walls, and cook dinner.

2. He enjoys...going out with us, taking me out to Toys 'R Us, and talking to Mommy.

3. Dad looks handsome when...all the time, he is at a meeting, and he is nice.

4. His favorite dinner is...Mediterranean food, McDonald's, and chicken.

5. The thing he likes best about me is...that I'm sweet, that I'm his son, and that I love him.

6. My favorite thing about him is...he is strong, he lets me play on the computer, and he is nice to me.

7. My favorite thing to do with my Dad is...going out with him, playing at the park with him, and playing with him.

Happy Belated Father's Day!

The Last 3 Months

There have been half a dozen times in the last couple of months that I started a post and then ran out of time to finish it. Or maybe that's just how my brain works now, a fleeting thought and then that's it.

I could go on and on about what my life has been like these few months, but I think pictures would convey it best.

Activity 1 - Baseball
Little boys dressed up to watch grass grow on the field. Except for the pitcher who is usually the coach's son.
A whole 5 minutes of batting time in a 1.5 hour game
Thank goodness it's over.

Activity 2 - Softball
Ditto what I said about baseball except substitute "girls" for "boys."
Activity 3 - Dance
Times two

Not pictured: soccer for younger daughter, piano, violin, art, girl scouts, boy scouts, and swimming.

Now that we're all caught up, I promise I'll do a real post soon.

Barfy Birthday

I'd like to take this opportunity to tell my sisters how lucky I am to have my hubby. He's tall, dark, and handsome. Plus he's got genes for good teeth to pass on to my kids and evenly divided X and Y sperm. How lucky could a girl get?

Oh, but there's more. Because this past weekend, he spent a good chunk of his birthday scrubbing out vomit bedding and clothing voluntarily (I didn't even have to ask him). This was not just any old birthday, either, but the big important one that I was supposed to plan some sort of elaborate surprise party for, decorated with OVER THE HILL signs everywhere. That's right, the husband turned 40 this weekend.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on how you look at it, the whole family came down with the stomach flu. Hence the vomit bedding and clothing. My kids now carry around little buckets around with them as an accessory, because you just never know.

I was also out of commission, suffering from a fever that originated from my gum surgery, although the dentist is convinced it was from just a normal cold. Never mind the fact that the fever started the same day following my dental procedure. And that my ear on the same side he worked on had shooting pains. And that only one side of my throat hurt.

The important thing is that I did not have to plan the big OVER THE HILL party, although this reprieve came at a very great cost. Physical pain v. party planning. Wow, tough choice, good thing it was not left up to me.

By the way, for those of you who want to know what it feels like to turn 40, the husband replies,"The same, except with more vomit."

**********************************************************
This should probably be a separate entry for later but by the time next month rolls around I will have forgotten.

Our baby boy was lying in bed with us last night, just like he does every night. He was rolling around, hiding under the blankets, sticking his feet in my face and announcing, "Here are your cupcakes!" (See a previous post about the cupcake reference. I do not know which post that was, maybe from 2008.)

After I rubbed his belly he said, "Mommy, your hands are cold!"

I replied, "Yes, they are always cold at night."

He immediately turned, put his hands together, closed his eyes, and prayed,"Dear Jesus, please help Mommy's hands not to be cold all the time. Amen."

It is no wonder, perfectly logical and reasonable that I spoil that little guy the way I do.

Gratuitous Kid Picture

Not just because I have nothing to say but because I love looking at my kids and assume the whole entire world feels the same.

Why is the sky blue?

Everyday I walk four times to our neighborhood school: early in the morning to drop off my son, later in the morning to drop off my kindergartener, early in the afternoon to pick up the kindergartener, and later in the afternoon to pick up my son. Lucky for me we live in Southern California.

I don't mind the frequent treks. The walks are a nice break in my otherwise agoraphobic existence. Nothing wakes up the body and mind like the chilly morning air and a quick chat with beloved neighbors. And nothing warms my kids and me up like a walk in the afternoon sun, a game of tag with friends, and a good-bye until tomorrow chat with beloved neighbors.

What I love most about our little walks is the view.
(This is not our house, but I wish it was. Ours is much smaller and has a lot more weeds & toys in the yard as well as an abandoned car in the driveway.)

The blue is not just in front of me, it's all around me. It's impossible to miss. And be awed.

I can't help but think about how the longer wavelengths of color like red are absorbed by air particles, leaving only the shorter wavelengths to be scattered and reflected. Hence, blue sky.

I'm grateful these days for any coherent thought, nerdy and out of touch though it may be.

Then, because I have nothing else to do except sit around and ruminate, I wonder: Why are the long wavelengths absorbed, leaving only the shorter ones? Why is blue a shorter wavelength and red a longer one? Why is the sky not red or some other color?

God made it so, and not just randomly. Every bullfighter and decorator knows that color affects mood. Red, for example is associated with power, anger, desire, violence, and can actually raise blood pressure. I'd hate to be surrounded every day by red.

Blue represents peace, tranquility, stability, harmony, unity, trust, and truth. Blue can slow the pulse rate and lower body temperature. Out of all the other positive moods evoked by other colors, God chose peace and harmony to envelope us with. Not only in sky but in water as well. That's a big chunk of the world!

God knows us so well. He knows we're ornery people who fight about the dumbest things, from whether a car cut us off to who gets the biggest dessert portion. He knows we need a reminder, wherever we are in the world we are, from sun up to sun down, to live in peace with each other.

Plus, blue just goes so well with the rest of the earth: white clouds, green trees, brown earth, and bright flowers. I have personally conducted some research attesting to how blue jeans go with everything.

This concludes our science lesson. Next time, I will address the age old question of is Pluto a planet? Oh, let's get real. I'm not going to have anytime soon to blog again. So...

Pluto is a dwarf planet which is not a planet at all. Certain astronomers were unwilling to let go of Pluto as a planet and so stuck the term planet in the new category, thereby proving to everyone that scientists enjoy confusing people with nomenclature. The real answer is, of course, who the heck can tell from 5 billion kilometers away?

Warts, Moles, and All

This year I resolve to be less paranoid about having my picture taken. It's some sort of phobia that I have, except I can't find it on the official phobia list. Photophobia, the most likely candidate, is the fear of light, so that's not it. After screening down the whole list of P's, past pagophobia (fear of ice), papaphobia (fear of the Pope), and pteronophobia (fear of being tickled by feathers), I gave up.

And I thought I had issues.

As I was reviewing all the photos from 2009 in an attempt to put together a photo calendar for the grandparents, I noticed that I was in maybe 10 pictures. Out of 8489. The overwhelming majority, of course, was of the kids. If a parent was in the photo, it was the husband. Granted, he's a bigger ham, more photogenic, and just better-looking than me, but still. I don't want the kids to look back after they've grown up and wonder where the heck I was during their childhood. See kids? Mommy was not in front of the computer all the time.

For my kids, I gave up my photograph hang-up. Just like I've given up my job, television, brain cells, tight abs, free time, junk food, social life, everything! But hey, I'm not bitter.

Lucky for me, the kids don't need to see a full frontal view to see how I adore them.
But wait...if I'm in front of the camera, who would be there to capture these kind of moments?
Forget it, I'm going back to behind the scenes again.

The resolution was good while it lasted. Next year we'll try to make it last longer, like maybe two days.

A Bright Spot

in an otherwise gray day.

My Way Back

The reason I haven't blogged lately, despite having two kids in school, is because my mornings are occupied now. Mornings were the only time I could blog before because it was quiet, and my brain was alert after just awakening. It was and still is my best thinking time.

I save that time now for something better. Someone better, I should say. Everyday, after walking off the grogginess in the brisk morning air while dropping off my son, I come home and spend my best time with God. I pray and read the Bible. I jot down thoughts. Most importantly, I wait. I don't rush through this time anymore. My prayers are long and winded, much like my blog posts. Sometimes, they don't even have a point. I read the Bible and come up with way too many questions for someone who has been a believer for 20+ years. I contemplate the answers to these questions, and every once in a little while, I might come up with a decent guess. More often than not, though, I have to let go of my need for knowledge.

This humbling process started with homeschooling my son. I knew homeschooling him would be difficult and tried to arm myself early on. Yes, I prayed, but nowhere near the amount of time that I spent researching, reading books, attending classes, and drilling veteran homeschoolers. When my efforts fell apart, I doubled my research time and halved my prayer time. I gave myself the 4-kids-without-epidural talk: I can do this! I just need to change my methods a little.

One of the ironic things about homeschooling is that although parents are initially attracted by the freedom and lack of Big Brother watching over them, some (like me) become trapped by the overwhelming responsibility of not just being in charge of their children's health, safety, and emotional well-being, but also being solely responsible (and therefore blameworthy) for whether or not their children can diagram sentences or write a haiku or tell the difference between a simile and a metaphor. I took that responsibility seriously, so much so that it became oppressive.

God rescued me from that onerous burden. Despite my best efforts, I had no choice but to relinquish the control I held onto so tightly. And yet, instead of being angry at me for not trusting Him, instead of punishing me for my pride, He lovingly reminded me that He is sufficient. He comforted me, reassuring that He loves and cares for my son more than I do. My son and I are safe in His hands.

A common theme of parenthood is letting children learn responsibility by allowing them to experience the negative consequences of their actions. In all fairness, I should have suffered a whole range of unpleasant consequences. My son could have hated me, he could have fallen behind academically, the school could have turned him away, or he could have gotten a horrible teacher. None of that happened. I didn't even have to fill out paperwork for my son because they still had his stuff from last year. That's right, a government institution which normally requires a pre-application, application, and post-application (all of which ask for the same information) said I could skip them all! That is how merciful our heavenly Father is. He took my negative consequences and replaced them with forgiveness and love.

So you see, saving my best time is the least I could do for Him.

I might have given blogging up completely, except that I missed it terribly. I missed thinking of the perfect wording, scanning through the kids' pictures to choose the best one to upload, using vocabulary I didn't know I had, and being creative in my own limited way.

My posts may not be as well put together as they used to be (it is after midnight now). Still, when I'm senile one day, I'll look back at this blog and think, wow I was so coherent way back when.

When it comes right down to it, there's one reason I'll never give up blogging: I have much to say and no one over the age of 8 to say it to.

The Long Road to Assertiveness

1976:
Kid #1 asks me something, Kid #2 responds, "Oh, don't bother, she can't talk." The school labels me as a mute.

1979:
All my friends abandon me because a girl claimed that I stole something of hers. I don't deny it even though it's not true.

1987:
The first boy ever in my whole life "likes" me. I end up going with him despite him being a total loser.

1989a:
The first boy ever in my whole life thinks I am pretty (wow, not just because I'm nice). I end up going with him despite him being a loser, though not as big of a loser as the first guy.

1989b:
I decide that I don't really like him in that way and break it off.

1989c:
After listening to him from 1 am to 5 am, I decide to give it another try.

1989d:
Two days later, repeat 1989b.

1989e:
One day later, repeat 1989c.

1991:
Stammered through presentation of research assignment.

1991:
Got drunk for the first and only time in my life because "friends" insisted it was the proper way to celebrate my 21st birthday. So-called friend ordered a Long Island iced tea. I subsequently slept through dinner.

1993:
After seeing us hang out together, Loser #2 warns the husband to stay away from me because I don't know my own mind.

1994:
First day as graduate teaching assistant. After my first class, a girl comes up to me and tells me in front of the whole class that "I am the worst teacher ever." Another girl feels sorry for me and says I was not that bad.

1995:
Was coerced to drink again by fellow graduate students. I did pick my own drink at least, after giving the bartender the third degree about which drink to order. Finally I ordered a fruity concoction which turned out to be nasty.

1996:
Presented thesis without embarrassing myself completely.

1997:
Frequently sent high schoolers to principal's office while substitute teaching because they so enjoyed torturing me. Towards the end of my subbing career, I would just bring a tape of Shawshank Redemption and make them watch it, not matter what subject I subbed.

1997:
Started attending a bible study with a conspiracy nut and an ex-stoner. Guess who offered the best answers to the pastor's questions.

2001-2006:
Had 4 children. Started yelling nonstop a lot.

November 2009:
Reprimanded a student for his lame drawing of a flower. I told him: my 5 year old could do better than this (it was really that bad). He sputtered,"But that wasn't my part! My lab partner drew that, and I got it from him!"

I replied,"What, you got no brains of your own? If your partner had drawn a booger for a flower, would you have copied that?"

Yes, the road has been long but it's been worth it.

Update

It's been so long, I don't even know where to start. I guess a quick update is as good of a place as any.

• My son started off public school really well. And by really well, I mean that he was only a shell of himself, with an alien on the inside. An obedient, quiet, and calm alien that all schools and teachers love. Not to fear - through willpower (he always did have more than enough), my son defeated his inner alien and reverted back to his rambunctious self. Which is why he had a few detentions lately. But that's another story, a looooong story that I'd just as soon forget.
  

• I am My older daughter is loving all the quiet at home now. She wakes up late everyday, does her school work, plays with her baby brother whenever he jumps on her, helps out around the house, and spends the rest of the afternoon reading on her bed. I love having her at home. We have the best conversations, about everything from why plants can't move to what envy is and how it is the downfall of every woman. Just this week, I told her a simple truth: Girls are a lot smarter about feelings than boys are. She understood completely and nodded in agreement.
  

• My younger daughter is doing great in kindergarten. She reads, writes, and listens very quietly at school, and then comes home to let it all loose. Walking her to school everyday is a treat. Unlike her brother, she insists I hold her hand the whole way, and not just limply. I have to squeeze her hand the entire way. When we reach home, she takes all her schoolwork out of her backpack right away and shows off what she's done. She loves to be held still, and between her and her baby brother, the husband's and my arms are almost always full.
  

• My baby boy turned 3 last month. I don't have the words to say anything else about it. Bittersweet and nostalgic doesn't begin to cover it. For a whole week, everyone walked around saying, "I can't believe he's already 3!" His older sister would deny, "He is not growing up!" and showered him with so many kisses that he screamed at the sight of her approach. To hear him giggle is joy for all of us. Despite our constant spoiling, he remains a sweet kid who apologizes and shares his toys readily.
  

• The husband is still the best husband and father in the world.
  

• I am still blessed beyond belief.

Our Halloween

The kindergarteners on their trick-or-treating fieldtrip. Because the school knows there's nothing cuter than a bunch of kindergarteners.
The princess holding up her underwear which kept sliding down.
The brave dad who let his daughter paper mache his face to make a mask.
The other princess.
The superhero who ran around scaring the princesses and ended up breaking a nail.
The baby monkey who had to be carried from door to door.
The reason why many of the houses ran out of candy.
The loot. There are 5 more bags just like this. Candy, anyone?
The birthday girl with her nieces.
Hope your Halloween was as sweet as ours.

A New Beginning

First off, I apologize. I'm so very sorry for dropping off cyberspace suddenly without a word. I realize that my dear readers, all three of you, wondered if I perhaps died. Not quite but I'm sorry if I caused anyone to worry.

At this point, I have to physically force myself to quit apologizing, because otherwise the husband will ask,"why do you keep apologizing?" He is very sensitive about me apologizing, ever since he saw some news report about how women are too nice and apologize over nothing, whereas men are abrupt, rude, and never admit when they're wrong.

The only time when he doesn't come down on me apologizing too much is when I'm apologizing to him.

Also, I'm not supposed to say,"I'm sorry" when apologizing because it carries the connotation that I'm admitting more than what I did wrong. As in, "I'm a sorry excuse for a human."

The reason I have been MIA is because I started homeschooling my son. I had expected it to be hard, had tried to prepare for it, had prayed about it, and still, I was blown away at the challenges I faced daily.

My son loved and hated homeschooling. He hated the schooling part, but he enjoyed all the free playing time with his toys. I loved and hated it, too. We struggled everyday with one thing or another. These daily battles took so much out of me that at the end of the day, after schooling my older daughter, driving the kids from lessons to practices (on time), preparing for and going to work, researching different ideas to engage my son for the next day, and coming up with ideas for dinner, nothing remained of me except carnage. Most certainly I did not have enough to put two sentences together on a blog. I considered putting up one sentence, "kids are driving me nuts, don't have mental capacity to blog anymore" but was afraid that would really get someone to sic a government agency on me.
Who, me? What'd I do?

Last week, we put our son back in public school. It was an agonizing decision, especially for someone who is as wishy-washy as me, but God is unbelievably good. He not only gave my son the most incredible teacher, but also gave him lots of friends. He has friends from last year, from soccer, church, and Boy Scouts. God has surrounded him with good people. As an extra bonus, I get to communion daily with the wonderful moms in our neighborhood.
First day of school shot, 1.5 months late

Best of all, I'm back, Baby!

First Day of Kindergarten

Last week, my baby girl started school. For the first time ever. In her entire life.
Sure, she went to speech therapy all last year. But those sessions were only 45 minutes each, and the therapist had to pry her off my leg almost every time.
She's also been to Vacation Bible School twice, which is a week-long half a day program. The first time, she cried so badly when she glimpsed me walking by that her teacher told me never to walk by her class again. Her second time at VBS, I was her group leader.
And okay, she does go to Sunday School for 90 minutes every week. Even so, a few weeks ago, her Sunday School teacher had to come fetch me because she wouldn't quit crying. Luckily, her big brother is in the same class as her, so he's been assigned to stay by her at all times.

It was the only time that she actually wanted to stick with her brother.
I was afraid that she would have a hard time letting go on her first day. Instead, it was me left standing there all teary-eyed.

What in the world? I had sent two other kids off to school with nary a tear. Why was this time different?

And no, it was not my emotional time of the month, as the husband puts it.
Mommy, I had fun at school today! I colored and cut out an apple by myself! I talked to my teacher, too. I'm a big girl now!

Hail Patriot Day

Early this morning, my boy and his troop went to raise the flag at our neighborhood school.
That's one of the best things I like about the Boy Scouts of America, that they teach patriotism and love of country. As opposed to the fundraising, which I despise. I also adore their uniforms.
My boy was not even born when 9-11 happened. But he and his troop are the hope that sprang from it's ashes. We will not forget.