The Crab Chronicles

Mariachi Christmas

Christmas 2008 is just a few days away. I cannot wrap my mind around that fact. I see the Christmas tree, I see the checkbook, I see the lights at my neighbors’ houses, and yet, it seems unreal. However, Christmas seems to be getting closer.

I had a happy moment today at lunch. We were eating at La Frontera, and a mariachi band came over and serenaded our table. At first I thought it was annoying. I was trying to eat a Crazy Taco, and that takes some concentration, because I like to break off pieces of the bowl and eat it. They left. Then the mariachi guys came around again, and I thought what the heck, and I asked them to play Jingle Bells. They did a funny medley of that plus Feliz Navidad. I looked at my mother singing along and bopping happily in her seat next to me, and Iooked at my kids, and suddenly, I got some Christmas spirit. A big dose. A warm wash of Christmas happy.

We had been to church, where I had gotten a little dose. There was a beautiful handcrafted crèche on a small table in the back of the sanctuary, and it featured happy, joyous angels, and animals. I pointed out to Michael that the baby and Mary and Joseph were missing, but the setting was there. I’m sure the family will appear Christmas eve. I felt a little Christmas happy then. I try to remind my kids of what Christmas is all about, as often as possible.

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We got back from lunch today and I planted some tulip bulbs which have been in the fridge for months. I hope out of the 10 or so bulbs that at least a few will come up. While I was doing that, Michael dragged the pumpkin to the side of the house and hacked it up with the hatchet. He loved doing that and I put the remains in my compost bed over there. Why is it boys like to destroy things?!

Alesia has been in a mood all afternoon. She spent several hours sitting in the dining room cutting things out of magazines and pasting them in a scrapbook – like ads for shoes, clothes, etc. It seems kind of an odd thing to do, I know, but cutting things out comforts her.

Michael and I went to work making goodies. We made an Apricot Brandy Pound Cake. I didn’t have apricot brandy so I used peach brandy and it turned out fine. The recipe is below. We also made two batches of brownies – homemade, not from a mix. The homemade recipe my mother uses is very easy. We sent some goodies to the neighbors and kept some for ourselves. I’m also taking some to work tomorrow.

Alesia was in sort of a hyper mood later tonight. I don’t know what to attribute it to, but I’ve noticed lately Sundays are when she is not happy, and I suspect it may have something to do with the fact that I have to go to work tomorrow.

We watched an old movie tonight, Arsenic and Old Lace. Cary Grant was such a hottie. I hate that word, but he was the original hottie. If you want to show the kids a great, classic movie, rent Arsenic and Old Lace.

 

Apricot Brandy Pound Cake

• 3 cups sifted all-purpose flour
• 1/4 teaspoon baking soda
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1 cup sour cream
• 1/2 teaspoon rum flavored extract
• 1 teaspoon orange extract
• 1/4 teaspoon almond extract
• 1/2 teaspoon lemon extract
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1/2 cup apricot brandy
• 1 cup butter
• 3 cups white sugar
• 6 eggs

1. Preheat oven to 325 degrees F (165 degrees C). Grease and flour a 10 inch tube pan. Mix together the flour, baking soda and salt. Set aside.
2. Combine the sour cream, rum flavoring, orange extract, almond extract, lemon extract, vanilla extract and apricot brandy. Set aside. In a large bowl, cream together the butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Beat in the eggs one at a time. Beat in the flour mixture alternately with the sour cream and flavorings mixture, stirring just until incorporated.
3. Pour batter into prepared pan. Bake in the preheated oven for 60 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the center of the cake comes out clean. Allow to cool.

Strange Encounters With Psychics and Snowmen

I’ve had several interesting and/or funny things happen today.

I was walking outside to get in the car this morning to run errands, alone, when an elderly woman walking a dog in front of the house called out “You’re a writer, arent’ you?” I was startled. “Uh, yes m’am” I said, feeling a little strange. “Oh I knew it. I’m a psychic” the little lady continued. She had a soft Scottish accent like Mrs. Doubtfire, and a beautiful black and white dog on a sturdy leash.

I walked over to chat with her.

“I’m visiting my son and his wife, who live down the road. I’m from Scotland. I write, too…” she continued. We stood and chatted for about 10 minutes. I gave her one of my cards. She said her son and daughter-in-law were thinking about adopting an 11 year old girl from Russia. Small world. They don’t live at my end of the street so I don’t know them.

I was really startled, though, when we had first started talking and she said “You have 3 boys.” I chuckled. “Nope, just one, I’m afraid.” She just looked at me and smiled. Yikes. Does she know something I don’t?! Wow. She also knew we hadn’t lived in the house long – that’s one of the first things she said. Sometimes people have the sight, sometimes not. I have it a little. I think between her accent and the strange pronouncements she was a really interesting little lady. She said she was 75 years old.

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We were in the car a bit later, on the way to Kroger, when we noticed a huge inflatable snowman bent over, like he was looking for his inflatable Mr. Happy and it wasn’t there. We pulled the car over in an adjacent parking lot and peered into the yard of the little house with all the inflatables in the yard - Santa, The Grinch, etc. There was a big sign on the house saying Spiritual Advisor. Various other inflatables looked like they were sick. If they had been in crumpled heaps, that would have looked normal. Seeing them looking ill, though, was so sad, and so bizarre.

We had an interesting discussion at lunch. At Mike’s class party everyone got a real pearl from one of the parents. I asked Michael if he knew how it was made. He frowned. “Yes, some little thing gets in there, and the oyster is so frustrated, just really really frustrated, and it squirts out something, and, uh…”

Mother and I looked at each other and laughed.   

The kids and I saw the new Jim Carrey movie, Yes Man. It was OK, not great. Had some funny lines and a sweet story. If I can find time tomorrow I will write a review for my other site.

When we got back from the movie, we put Mother in the car and rode around looking at Christmas decorations and lights. That’s one of our favorite things to do this time of year. Some folks who live in our area put up a LOT of lights. One family had circled the kids’ play area with a million colored lights. Another place had rather modest lights, but a beautiful nativity scene in the yard, with figured looking like they had been painted by Botticelli – in front of a rather modest little house, nothing special.

Alesia had a babysitting job for the little 2 year old down the street, little Mia, who was adopted from China. The child’s grandmother was there but she can’t run after Mia or pick her up, so Alesia was called. The parents were a little late getting home and Mia wouldn’t go to bed. Alesia ended up having to change a poopy pullup. When she came home, she said it was no big deal. Mia is a sweetie – Alesia said she wanted a kiss before Alesia could leave. I noticed Alesia went to bed 2 minutes after brushing her teeth and was sound asleep a few minutes later.

I hope keeping an active toddler has shown her that she wants to wait a while before starting parenthood.

Below are a couple of photos from 1971, the year we moved from Augusta to Knoxville. My wardrobe choices were off whack even then…

Drama Around the Christmas Tree

On the way to my daughter’s school I pass a replica of the White House that is quite impressive. It's not nearly as big, of course. The front lawn shrubbery spells out "God [heart] you." Now it's for sale:

The owner builds McMansions and nobody is buying them right now, so the bank is fixing to take his house. I hate to see anyone lose their house, but these folks have caused a lot of whiplash injuries, due to passing motorists craning their necks to catch a glimpse of the property.

When I was driving in this morning they said it was 71 degrees. Yep. I didn’t even need a sweater this morning. We are supposed to get winter back on Sunday. Good timing, since I am planning on spending Sunday afternoon baking…

Michael fell and scraped his knee yesterday walking to the tennis courts for his lesson. He came home and Alesia doctored it, with supervision from Mother. Alesia is a good little nurse, and always ready to step in and help with Michael’s booboo’s. I like to use highly technical language like that. Michael likes to figure out his own words for things when he doesn’t know the English word. He and Alesia both referred to their flesh as meat, before they knew the word flesh. I’m not sure which word is more disgusting. When one of the kids is looking at a booboo and remarks “Look, the meat is shredded!” it sorta makes me want to turn vegetarian, for a moment.

This morning Michael pulled his usual Pity Party due to his knee booboo. “Look! It’s still red!” he wailed. “There’s no crust!” – meaning, no scab, of course. What’s worse, crust or scab? Hard to answer that. He whined, and moaned, and complained incessantly while I was trying to make breakfast. He wouldn’t tell me what he would eat. Finally I just put two more Eggo waffles in the toaster and said “You’re gonna eat waffles, dude.”

We sat down to eat. I was already frazzled from his complaining, with great drama, “I can’t plug in the tree lights, my knee hurts!! Neosporin does NOT relieve pain! I’m never using it AGAIN!” – plus I had cooked my eggs and grits on too high a heat and hot grease had spattered in my face a minute earlier, causing me to scream out a curse word. It was a really bad one, the one that rhymes with duck. Hey, it got Mike’s attention and he shut up for a moment. So we’re trying to eat and Michael puts his head in his hands and says, with more drama, “I don’t want to eat!” I put down my fork and looked at him. “If you don’t put the waffle in your mouth right this minute, Alesia is going to hold you down and I WILL shove it in!” I hissed. He looked at me and frowned. When your kids know you are a bit crazy, it’s an effective tool for discipline. He ate the waffles. Dramatically pouring enough syrup on them to send most people into a diabetic coma.

Within 5 minutes of eating his waffles, Michael was a different child – sweet, calm. It’s amazing what normalizing the blood sugar will do.

IMPORTANT NOTE: If I have to listen to Brenda Lee sing “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” one more time, I will attack the radio with an axe. Ditto for Feliz Navidad, even though I can sing it perfectly and I don’t speak Spanish.

I don’t think I have ever shared a funny email here, but I feel absolutely compelled to print this one, because it made me laugh so hard I cried.

I just want to thank all of you for your educational emails over the past year.  

   Thanks to you, I no longer open a public bathroom door without using a paper towel.

   I can't use the remote in a hotel room because I don't know what the last person was doing while flipping through the channels.

   I can't sit down on the hotel bedspread because I can only imagine what has happened on it since it was last washed.

  I can't enjoy lemon slices in my tea or on my seafood anymore because lemon peels have been found to contain all

kinds of nasty germs including feces.

  I have trouble shaking hands with someone who has been driving because the number one pastime while driving alone is picking your nose.

   Eating a Little Debbie sends me on a guilt trip because I can only imagine how many gallons of Trans fats I have consumed over the years.

  I can't touch any woman's purse for fear she has placed it on the floor of a public bathroom.

  I must send my special thanks to whoever sent me the one about poop in the glue on envelopes because I now have to use a wet sponge with every envelope that needs sealing.

  Also, now I have to scrub the top of every can I open for the same reason.

  I no longer have any savings because I gave it to a sick girl (Penny Brown) who is about to die in the hospital for the 1,387,258th time.

 I no longer have any money at all, but that will change once I receive the $15,000 that Bill Gates/Microsoft and AOL  are sending me for participating in their special e-mail program

I no longer worry about my soul because I have 363,214 angels looking out for me, and St.Theresa's novena has granted my every wish.

I no longer eat KFC because their chickens are actually horrible mutant freaks with no eyes or feathers.

 I no longer use cancer-causing deodorants even though I smell like a water buffalo on a hot day.

 Thanks to you, I have learned that my prayers only get answered if I forward an e-mail to seven of my friends and make a wish within five minutes.

  Because of your concern I no longer drink Coca Cola because it can remove toilet stains.

  I no longer can buy gasoline without taking someone along to watch the car so a serial killer won't crawl in my back seat when I'm pumping gas.

   I no longer drink Pepsi or Dr Pepper since the people who make these products are atheists who refuse to put 'Under God' on their cans.

   I no longer use Saran wrap in the microwave because it causes cancer.

  And thanks for letting me know I can't boil a cup of water in the microwave anymore because it will blow up in my face...disfiguring me for life.

   I no longer check the coin return on pay phones because I could be pricked with a needle infected with AIDS.

   I no longer go to shopping malls because someone will drug me with a perfume sample and rob me.

   I no longer receive packages from UPS or FedEx since they are actually Al Qaeda in disguise.

   I no longer shop at Target since they are French and don't support our American troops or the Salvation Army.

   I no longer answer the phone because someone will ask me to dial a number for which I will get a phone bill with calls to Jamaica , Uganda,  Singapore  and  Uzbekistan.

   I no longer buy expensive cookies from Neiman-Marcus since I now have their recipe..

   Thanks to you, I can't use anyone's toilet but mine because a big brown African spider is lurking under the seat to cause me instant death when it bites my butt.

  And thanks to your great advice, I can't ever pick up $5.00 dropped in the parking lot because it probably was placed there by a rapist waiting underneath my car to grab my leg.

  If you don't send this e-mail to at least 144,000 people in the next 70 minutes, a large dove with diarrhea will land on your head at 5:00 PM this afternoon and the fleas from 12 camels will infest your back, causing you to grow a hairy hump. I know this will occur because it actually happened to a friend of my next door neighbor's ex-mother-in-law's second husband's cousin's beautician...

Random Things and Christmas Photo Ops

I recently stumbled across a blog I really enjoy, by a lady who lives here in Atlanta. I don’t know her real name but her blog name is "Brainella" which is hysterical. She posted a challenge on her blog, and I am going to try and match it, but I’m not good at these things.

1.    I will never dye my hair. I have some grey hair but I am simply too lazy to dye it. 

2.      I cannot snap my fingers on my right hand, because I am missing a bone in my right shoulder. Birth defect. Not a big deal, unless one is singing a snappy song in school music class, and then the accusations of laziness or spastic-ness fly…

3.      I was the tallest kid in my class until 6^th grade, when a boy finally got taller than me, which was a happy day. By 8^th grade I was almost the shortest kid in the class. Being 5’4 stinks. Too tall for Petite clothes, too short for regular. I realized early on that I would never be a fashion plate…

4.      I love all sweets and nuts except coconut. Just the smell makes me nauseous. 

5.      I started drinking coffee when I was 11 years old, because I had a really boring Sunday School teacher that year. I try to stick to tea now, unless I have a bad headache. Coffee helps headaches.

6.      I burp all the time. I’m like a burping machine after a meal. It’s difficult to hide. It might explain why I’m single…

7.      I could not tell time or tie my shoes until I was 8 years old. I also couldn’t put my shoes on the right feet until then. My parents were getting worried. Finally, my cousin Tony [7 years older] taught me. He is now a teacher. I owe him big time.

Here are my fellow bloggers I am calling out:

Hallie over at Wonderful World of Wieners

Jill [Romance writer extraordinaire]

Andrea my Creative inspiration

Sandra faulous adoptive mom and writer

Ladies, I know you are all very busy, but I had to list someone and you all have blogs I read regularly. Plus, the holidays are coming up and I know you have nothing better to do than participate in this.

The rules:
1. Link back to me for nominating you.
2. List 7 random things about yourself.
3. Nominate five other bloggers. [I only nominated 4. So sue me.]
4. Link to them on your blog.
5. Post these rules.

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When I came home tonight we had a pretty normal evening, except that Michael decided to make cards for all his teachers. Thereafter, Alesia had to point out all the English errors in the card for his ESOL teacher. Hostilities ensued. I had to physically separate them. Alesia had been into a gift box we got and was munching cheese and sausage products. I think she was groovin’ on nitrates.

Mother fled to her room only once, which is a good sign. Sometimes she flees several times during the course of an evening.

After the movie, Alesia decided to tease her hair up into a funny ‘fro and I tried desperately to get a photo of it. They all turned out as blurs. Here's my favorite blur. I call it Vegas Christmas Tree.

I tried to take a photo of our decorated mantel, and Michael decided it would be funny to show his butt in the photo, wriggling underneath the holiday decorations. I cropped out his butt. [The round wall hanging of the camel os from his birth country, Kazakhstan. I think it looks Christmasy...]

Michael informed me he has two parties tomorrow at school. I was glad I will not be home when he gets home, high on sugar and thoughts of Nintendo.

I am thinking seriously of telling him for every hour of Nintendo he plays, he has to read for an hour, or do exercises in his workbook. He will think I’m the meanest mommy alive. I like that.

Hot December Days

It’s December 17^th and I am wearing sandals to work. Yep, sandals. Crocs were going to be too hot. It’s going up to 60 degrees today. We don’t know whether or not to turn on the heat or air in the house. Last night I turned on the air conditioning for a while upstairs because it was so hot and stuffy up there.

I cannot sleep in a room with open windows. Just can’t. Some years ago I had a terrible file on my desk wherein the single mom of a toddler suffered a home invasion where the guy put a ladder against the outside of her house, tore out the screen, came in the window and brutally beat and raped her, while her 3 year old child watched. She had a .357 next to her bed but she couldn’t get it in time. So sleeping with a window open, for me, isn’t an option. Nor can my kids sleep with open windows. I wish they could, but then I’d never sleep.

At least with a closed window, a home invader would need to break glass, giving me time to grab my baseball bat and yell at Mother to get the pistol from the safe. Yep, we are armed and dangerous. Anyone trying to hurt me or anyone in my family deserves to die, horribly, IMHO.

I am so glad I don’t do property liability cases any more.

Can you tell my ancestors were mostly Celts, the bloodthirsty barbarians that scared the beejezus out of the rest of the world a couple thousand years ago?! If you ever find me at home wearing animal skins, my face painted blue, wielding a club, you will know I have reverted back to my ancestors…

Michael wanted to wear a down vest to school today, and it was hard to talk him out of it. Mother tried yelling. I raised my voice. Faced with two very pissed off people with opera voices that would make most folks pee their pants, Mike stubbornly refused to take off the vest. I knew he would be hot and miserable on his walk home. I finally told him if he didn’t take off the vest he would lose 10 points. That worked. He screamed “You always think you can tell me what to do!!” – which, had the situation been less tense, would have made me and mother laugh. Not today. I said “Well kiddo, that’s how it works in families.”

I e-mailed the therapist and she said it would’ve probably been better to just let him wear the vest and suffer the consequences. She’s probably right. I was pondering whether or not to rescind the decree that he remove the vest and Mother told him to take it off. I then didn’t want to contradict her so I stuck to the original order. I think parents should present a united front whenever possible, when it comes to discipline.

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Alesia told me the other night that when she’s on the school bus that MB [a boy she has been flirting with] keeps staring at her. “Well kiddo, in my experience that means he is trying to decide whether or not to ask you out,” was my reply. She looked suspicious and scornful. “No! That’s not it!”

“Alesia, if he asks you out, that’s fine. I’m not going to fight about it. I know his parents. He’s a nice kid. You’re 17 years old. You can go out on dates, as long as I am assured you are safe.”

I’m not sure if I freaked her waaaay out or just startled her. I couldn’t read her expression. I suspect that actually dating just hasn’t really entered her consciousness yet as a real possibility. She knows she’s somewhat immature and that it’s OK, because she will catch up to her age-group peers one day. I think emotionally she feels maybe 15 – that’s the age she tells other kids, as I’ve mentioned before here.

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Last night I was chatting with Mother and sent the kids upstairs to get ready for bed. Michael lost his recharger for his Gameboy, so he has to ask Alesia’s permission to use her recharger. Last night she made him name 10 things about her before he could use the recharger. “I said she is blonde, she has curly hair, she is the tallest in the house…” he told me, eyes twinkling. “She shouldn’t be doing that,” I sighed, irritated. “I don’t mind!” Michael protested, as I stomped into Alesia’s room. “Michael, go ahead and plug in your Gameboy,” I said, glaring at Alesia. “I cannot believe you asked him to do that!” I fumed at her. The word “sycophant” was bouncing around in my head but I knew she didn’t know that word.

Since I was the younger of two siblings, I am more sympathetic to Michael most of the time. I try to be impartial but hey, I’m human. I had let the kids stay up later than I meant to, as we were all absorbed in a long movie, and I was tired and ticked off with myself.

Michael was sound asleep 30 seconds after his head hit the pillow.

Alesia was awake before I was, straightening the gorgeous curls out of her hair. I tell her that most women would kill for naturally blonde hair with big fluffy curls, but she doesn’t listen to me.

Alesia has been coughing and sniffing a lot today. I hope she isn’t getting sick. She has exams tomorrow and Friday.

Here are two shots of my Dad, Tony Thompson, in 1971. Let’s see, he was 41 then. He was a banker and he loved to hunt and fish. He also liked to play tennis, and read. I miss him.

Here is a photo of Dad taken almost 20 years later -

Party Time

It feels surreal that Christmas is only a week and two days away. I am thinking about baking, which means the holidays are drawing closer.

We had our departmental holiday party this afternoon, and it was really enjoyable. They put a new young attorney in charge and she was very cute and enthusiastic. She divided everyone into groups and had them sing Christmas songs. There were also a bunch of prizes given away. I won a gorgeous holiday gift basket, a really nice one with lots of gourmet goodies. I came home and shared it, and we made dinner on that plus some homemade soup.

Alesia has a long list of questions to answer for her Science final exam on Thursday, so I had her tutor come in and help her. Alesia said she can use her list of questions and answers on the final, which is great. I just recall open book tests always being a challenge because I ran out of time to look up every answer.

I am fixing to post a review of the new James Bond movie here.

My aunt sent me a bunch of old photos, which I had forgotten existed. Below are a couple of me and Mother from 1971, right after we moved to Knoxville. I was 8 years old. I had thought when we moved to Tennessee it would be just like the Beverly Hillbillies – before they moved to LA. I was shocked to find everyone in Tennessee wore shoes and didn’t chew tobacco or eat possum…

Big Michael and Little Michael

We have a large pumpkin sitting outside our house, a leftover Halloween decoration. It was so huge and pretty I didn’t want to carve it, so we didn’t do that. However, it’s so heavy I don’t want to throw out my back moving it, and I hate to ask the kids to do it. I suppose it will need to be moved soon, maybe to the side yard. Mother keeps threatening to walk outside with a can of spray paint and paint it gold, so it will “look Christmasy.” She has been known to get a little crazy with cans of gold spray paint, so I really need to make some definite removal plan.

After thinking it over, I went ahead and put the blurry photos of my kids in front of the Christmas tree into the Photo Album entitled Dee’s Photos. Alesia looks sort of maniacal and Mike looks like he wants to hit someone. Ah, the wonderful spirit of Christmas.

Alesia couldn’t get herself dressed this morning – probably all my fault, for asking her to clean up her room yesterday, which included putting away her clean clothes. Plus, of course she had to spend 40 minutes fixing her hair. At 7:32 I told her we had to get in the car to get Mike to school and she screamed through the door, “I don’t have a shirt on!”  My eyes nearly rolled back in my head. She has 2 dozen shirts to choose from, already! How hard is it to find a shirt to go with blue jeans?!

So we get in the car, finally, and drop off Mike. He does his usual run for the door to avoid the late bell.

We’re headed towards Alesia’s school and I am lost in thought and suddenly she says with great venom in her voice, “I HATE this music!” - so I was forced to pay attention to it. It was “Carol of the Bells” played by Kenny G on the smooth jazz station. Now, Alesia professes to love “Carol of the Bells” [which Michael refers to as “that weird song that sounds like Halloween”] but only a particular arrangement. The smooth jazz version was horrific to Alesia. I switched the station, then they played an ad I hate, so I just randomly punched a button, trying to keep my eyes on the road. Suddenly the smooth saxophone version of “Carol of the Bells” again filled the car. Alesia went mental, hollering “I told you, I HATE that! Change it! I would rather hear the NEWS!!” I put it on NPR very quickly.I dread the day when she starts drinking coffee...

We get to the school, and there’s the usual bottleneck. I am waiting for a line of cars to turn right in front of me, one after another, and Alesia looks at me like I am insane, and hisses, “Why don’t you turn already?!” I said evenly, “Alesia I don’t want to have a wreck, so we will just have to wait a minute, kiddo.” She was not going to be late - we had plenty of time. As soon as we got to the door she jumped out, grabbed her books, and walked quickly away. She doesn’t like to be seen associating with me and my 10 year old banged up Mazda, I guess. Maybe the fact that last year I once dropped her off and shouted after her “I love you! Have a good day!” – causing heads to turn - has something to do with it. I figured hey, I will never be a Cool Mom. Might as well be myself.

: )

Mike comes up to me at least once a day now and uses his most endearing, cajoling voice, to say “Mooooommmmm…. I just CAN’T wait until Christmas for my Nintendo!” And I always say “Well, you will have to just wait, Kiddo, like everybody else.” Yesterday, he tried a new tack. “Mom, I am going to run downstairs on Christmas morning and open my Nintendo and play with it! You and Alesia can just sleep late and come down later!” Oh yeah, like that’s gonna happen...

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I am pondering writing a sequel to Jack’s New Family, my children’s book written from the perspective of an 8 year old boy adopted by an American single mom. I was thinking about focusing on his first year at home, and all the adjustments he has to make, and how he feels about everything. I want it to be realistic, but not heavy-duty drama. Obviously, my life provides great material for such an undertaking. However, a lot of you out there reading this probably have ideas or anecdotes you might want to share, so feel free to email me or leave me a comment.

Now, I don’t have an agent, or any notion how to get this thing published, or even when I might find time to write it, but hey, that’s where faith comes in. If I have a good, solid story, and folks want to read it, I can alwaysfind a way.

The thought of writing a realistic book about what it’s like to be a newly-adopted child in an American family is very exciting, but also scary. Kids have different experiences. Some kids adapt well, other kids have a really tough time. I’ve seen a bit of everything with my kids. It amazes me how different Michael and Alesia are in their reactions to things.

Finding an illustrator is another tricky proposition, but I am not going to even think about that until I decide for sure whether or not to do the book. Once it’s written, then I’ll think about illustrations…

The thing that makes me want to press on, and make this book a reality, is that there are resources out there for parents of adopted kids. There are books out there for adopted kids who are small, and a few for kids who are teens, but there’s a vast are between 6 and 16 where there’s almost nothing. If I can give kids who read the book a way to identify with Jack, a feeling of “Oh, so what I’m feeling is not unique, this is common to kids adjusting to an American home” – then I will feel like I have accomplished something important.

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I was so tickled tonight to see an email from my cousin Raye's son, Michael Hasty, who runs a terrific design business in Myrtle Beach, Inkhaus. Here's a link to a post about my grandfather, Bob Hasty. He was Michael Hasty's great-grandfather.

Michael's grandfather Bobby, my mother's oldest brother, was a big part of his life growing up, as his parents divorced when he was a baby. We are all very proud of Michael [Hasty] for his terrific business, plus he and his wife are expecting their first baby soon.

This is Michael Hasty and his cousin Lana, in Myrtle Beach in fall 2007. You can see Alesia next to Lana, being camera shy.

This is Bobby Hasty, and little Michael, his great nephew, last year. Bobby was named for his father, my grandfather Bob Hasty, and there's a strong resemblance. I wish I were a better photographer...

When I was in Kazakhstan, I asked Michael to choose an American name, because I felt like "Igor" was going to cause problems. I showed him a list of about a dozen names, and he chose Michael Robert. I was so pleased because Robert is the name of my grandfather, Bob Hasty, plus my uncle Bobby, his son, plus Bobby's son Robert, and Michael is Raye's son, as I mentioned. [On Dad's side we have his brother Robert Thompson and his grandson Rob Bennett.] So Michael and Robert are family names. Then the adoption hearing was held on April 3rd, which was my grandfather's wedding anniversary to Mamaw. Just more evidence this little guy was meant to be part of our family, I felt.

Sunday, and the Christmas Letter

We’ve had a good day, but very quiet, for the most part. We didn’t try to go to church. We slept late, and went to Kroger around 11. We picked up hamburgers on the way home, and had a good lunch after we unloaded groceries.

After much debate, Alesia won the coin toss about what movie to see and we saw Quantum of Solace, the new James Bond movie. It was hard to follow the plot, and I really didn’t like Daniel Craig, the new Bond. He’s not attractive or suave, like the other Bonds. He just seemed pissed off and brutal. The plot was convoluted, too. If I can find a minute I’ll write a review.

I sent my annual Christmas letter today, by email. There are a lot of folks who don't read my blog regularly, but do communicate by email occasionally. I have 5,000 cousins, all over the US. Anyway, thought I'd share the recap.

Christmas Letter, 2008

 

Hello –

2008 has been quite a year.

Right after Christmas last year, Bruce came in for the holidays and astonished us with the news that he was being re-activated into the Army. He had last been on active duty when Clinton was president. Things were rather weird for a while, as he trained at Ft. Benning in January and February, and came to Atlanta to see us most weekends. He said he was impressed with the new army, but it was disconcerting to salute a guy who was not born when Bruce first went in the army. He definitely felt his age there, for a bit.

Mother and I prayed hard, of course, that he would not be sent to Iraq, but he was. He viewed it as an adventure, which was a good attitude to have. He has been in Baghdad since early March, in the embassy compound in The Green Zone, spending a good bit of time behind a computer. He is in a war zone, but not doing much running around and getting shot at – at least, we don’t think so… He was able to come home for a couple of weeks in November, and we were able to have a good visit with him, although he spent part of the time visiting friends in Columbia and Statesboro. We will miss having him home for Christmas, but he should be back in the USA sometime in late January or early February. We hear from him by email almost every day.

Another early 2008 happening of note was that Michael starred in a video, about adoption of special needs kids. Adoption Ark, the agency I used to adopt Michael, presented copies of the video to adoption officials in Kazakhstan. The aim was to educate them on the fact that a lot of Americans are happy to adopt special needs kids, and the kids get along just fine. Hopefully they will make more special needs kids available for adoption. The irony is that nobody who is around Michael for any length of time views him as “special needs” in any way. I rarely even think about the limb difference he has. He does whatever he wants to do. Anyway, if you look on YouTube and search for "Adoption Ark Michael", you will find the video. Over 3,000 folks have viewed it, and hopefully been inspired to broaden their thinking about adoption and limb difference kids.

In May, we went again to Myrtle Beach, and stayed at Kingston Plantation, which is a wonderful place for kids. We were able to visit with the extended family in Myrtle Beach, and it was a lovely, relaxing time.

In July, Michael went to the Adventure Amputee Camp, which was recommended by his therapist. He was very anxious about being separated from us from Wednesday until Sunday. However, he had a wonderful time. It was so good for him to be able to spend time with other kids with limb differences. He was able to swim, ski, do a ropes course, climb, and play tennis. He liked tennis so much, he won the camp tournament. When he came home, I was able to sign him up for lessons at the courts which are just down the street from our house, and he was asked to be on the neighborhood tennis team. The team won the city championships. Michael is doing super well with tennis, and it’s great exercise. 

Michael and Alesia both love to ride bikes, jump on the trampoline, and play videogames. They spent time at the neighborhood pool nearly every day last summer, and both are excellent swimmers. 

We had a good garden this summer, with a bumper crop of tomatoes. I am trying to compost this winter, and build up the soil, plus I am working on a bed on the side of the house, which I hope to plant in just melons, next summer. As much as I resisted yard work and gardening as a child – I used to say I’d never live anywhere that I had to do yard work - I now love to grow flowers and vegetables. It sort of fits that I work at Home Depot, huh?!

In October, we were able to get away to the mountains for a long weekend. We have friends in Asheville that we try to visit every year or two.

Michael started school this year in the 4^th grade, but we soon realized he could handle higher level work, and he was moved up to 5^th grade, where he has done well, with some extra help. He now reads on grade level and has made tremendous progress. He has had a lot of help from his grandmother, and she deserves a great deal of credit for having the patience and the perseverance to help him every day. He also has a wonderful ESL teacher at school. Alesia is also good about helping him, and does so willingly.

Alesia has had some health problems this year, but we have been able to work through them. In the spring she was diagnosed with gastritis, after suffering through a bout of H Pylori [a bacterial infection of the stomach]. She now takes medication, and has few stomach issues. In the fall, she was plagued with migraines for several weeks, but those have subsided and she is much better. She still has bouts of car sickness, but nothing major. She is strong and active, but stress does have a bad effect on her sometimes.

Alesia had a tough time adjusting to the demands of high school last year, but this year she is doing much better. She has a better understanding of how to manage her time, and study for tests, and the teachers are not so tough. She is enjoying studying Spanish, and has a good time in that class. She has a lot of friends at school. She reads on 12^th grade level, and she is a skilled artist. Lately, Alesia has started making beaded jewelry. I am hopeful that by next summer she will feel ready to learn to drive.

I have kept busy with family activities, but I do some writing whenever possible. I try to write The Crab Chronicles every day. I also contributed some pieces to a website called Adoption Under One Roof. This fall, there was a profile of Michael in the ACA [Amputee Coalition of America] magazine, In Motion, relating to the difficulty in getting the insurance companies to fund prosthetics and therapy for limb difference kids. I presented a program at the ACA Convention last summer, for folks interested in adopting limb difference kids. I submitted an essay to an anthology about mothering multi-cultural children, and that book will be published in the spring. So, I stay pretty busy.

I am pondering a follow up to my children’s book Jack’s New Family, to help kids and parents see how adopted kids get along the first year at home after they are adopted. The only problem is finding time to write.

Mother is turning 75 on December 31^st, and we are planning a party to celebrate. It’s hard to believe she has lived ¾ of a century, but I’m getting close to the half-century mark myself, and I think those are milestones to celebrate. Instead of having a leisurely retirement, Mother is active in helping me with the children, and my best friend. She is also as sharp and funny as ever.

I am very concerned about the economy, and the many issues we read about every day. I have friends and family members who have lost their jobs and I worry about them, and pray for them. It seems like the whole world is in a precarious place right now. However, I feel sure that we will weather these storms, and we will come out stronger in the end. I have a great faith in God, and this is pretty much my mantra: “God’s plan is exactly what we would want for ourselves if we knew all the facts.” Amen.

I hope you and your family have a blessed and safe holiday season!

Dee

 

Pre Christmas Calm

I was thinking as the kids and I were heading up to bed, this has been a nice day. There has been very little verbal combat today. Everyone has been on a pretty even keel. What a rush.

I had to send back Mike’s expensive Merrell tennis shoes. They has a big hole in the stitching, and after being worn in the rain maybe twice, they developed a weird fungus looking discoloration. I hope they will either give me my money back, or a credit.

I was amazed to be in the post office this morning and there was no line. This is Christmas, and it’s the only post office open for miles around on Saturday. Maybe everyone figures if it’s not already mailed it won’t go….??

We talked in therapy today about how Michael needs to use his words and be more of a diplomat, instead of screaming “No!” and running off when he doesn't like what he's asked to do.. Last night, I tried to take his photo in front of the Christmas tree with Alesia and they both acted like 2 year olds and wouldn’t allow it, until I begged, cajoled, and threatened. I will spare you the horrible photographic results…

I finally got a chance to take both kids to Target this afternoon, and we got all the presents we are going to buy. I need to pick up some stocking stuffers, but that’s it. The rest of the gifts will be baked goods, which I will enjoy baking on the 24^th.

The weather outside today was cold and windy. I finally looked at the rain gauge in the back and it showed 5 inches of rain in the last two weeks since I last emptied it. Yikes.

Bruce said in Iraq right now it’s cold, which is surprising. He said at night it’s in the 30’s, and in the day it’s up in the 50’s, which is about the same as where he’s from in South Carolina. The Iraqis are freezing.

We got Mother’s new CD player/boombox set up in her room. She had to have a new one – the old one was skipping, even after being cleaned. The new one works well and has a nice sound. When we bought it last night at Best Buy, the clerk who waited on us was a young guy who followed me and Alesia around, in such an obvious manner, it was funny. Alesia was looking very fetching and I was willing to spend money. He practically drooled on us. Alesia thought he was “cute,” but didn’t like, totally freak out or anything, you know?!

In the words of the immortal Maurice Chevalier, “I’m glad I’m not young any more…”

In Praise of My Hometown

I had an interesting conversation with a colleague this morning and she told me that before she moved here to Atlanta, when she was living in California, that a number of different folks told her that moving to Atlanta was a really bad idea. She didn’t go into great details, but she said basically there was a perception by people who had never lived anywhere but California that Atlanta is an extremely backwards place, filled with rednecks and racism. Basically, she was told she was moving to a big redneck town and the fact that her last name is Italian instead of anglo-saxon meant that she would face sure discrimination.

I said “What do they think, that we have Klan marches going down the street every day?!”

We were both grinning during this entire conversation. Now, if she had said she was moving to some little Podunk town in the middle of nowhere Georgia, I could sort of see how outsiders would make those kinds of assumptions. However, this is ATLANTA. Helloooooo…

Now, I have lived in Atlanta since 1993, and my mother’s family hails from just north of the city. I will freely admit I am a bit biased. However, it irritates the daylights out of me when outsiders make assumptions about my city based solely on Gone With the Wind, or reruns of Matlock and Designing Women.

Here are some facts that folks might find interesting.

Atlanta has a population of over 500,000 just in the city alone. There are more than 5 million people in the metro area. Atlanta is the fastest-growing city in the USA.

Atlanta is a very diverse place. My daughter’s school, which is one of the best public high schools in the state, is only 50% white. I LIKE that. I want my kids to live in a diverse place.

The city also has the third highest percentage (12.8%) of gay, lesbian, and bisexual couples among the fifty largest cities in the United States. Again, I like diversity.

MOST of the people you will meet in Atlanta are not from here. Folks move here from up north every single day. On my team at work, only one other person is from Atlanta. The rest came here from New York, Illinois, Texas, Kentucky, North Carolina, etc.

Atlanta is home to these major corporate headquarters and industries, just to name a few: Coca Cola, Home Depot, Georgia Pacific, The Centers for Disease Control, Turner Broadcasting, CNN, Chick Filet, Equifax, Suntrust Banks, AT&T, etc.

We’re also a major center for education. Here are just a few of the places y’all can go to college here: Agnes Scott College, Oglethorpe University, Spelman College, Georgia State, Georgia Tech, Emory University.

Atlanta has a thriving arts community. We have a symphony, ballet, opera, many top-notch theatres and dance companies, and several awesome museums.

The Civil Rights movement was born here. Ebenezer Baptist Church, which was Martin Luther King Jr.’s church, is 30 minutes from where I sit. Atlanta has the Sweet Auburn District, which is a historic black landmark with thriving businesses. Atlanta elected its first black mayor in 1973. Every mayor since then has been black.

We have a very large population of folks who have emigrated here from Russia and the former Russian republics. There are websites that cater to that demographic. I have a Ukrainian grocery store 10 minutes from my house. My son's pediatrician, our family internist, and the kids' therapist - all Russian speaking emigrants.

In 1996 Atlanta hosted the summer Olympics – only the third American city to ever do so.

Atlanta has professional teams in the following sports: baseball, football, basketball, hockey, and soccer.

We are home to the Bank of America Plaza, which is the 30^th tallest building in the world.

Despite a large downtown area, and the normal problems of urban blight, Atlanta is known as the city of trees. Founded in 1985, Trees Atlanta has planted and distributed over 68,000 shade trees.

From Wikipedia:

Atlanta features the world's largest aquarium,^[53] the Georgia Aquarium, which officially opened to the public on November 23, 2005. The new World of Coca-Cola, opened adjacent to the Aquarium in May 2007, features the history of the world-famous soft drink brand and provides visitors the opportunity to taste different Coca-Cola products from around the world. Underground Atlanta, a historic shopping and entertainment complex lies under the streets of downtown Atlanta. Atlantic Station, a huge new urban renewal project on the northwestern edge of Midtown Atlanta, officially opened in October 2005.

Atlanta hosts a variety of museums on subjects ranging from history to fine arts, natural history, and beverages. Museums and attractions in the city include the Atlanta History Center; the Carter Center; the Martin Luther King, Jr. National Historic Site; the Atlanta Cyclorama and Civil War Museum; historic house museum Rhodes Hall; and the Margaret Mitchell House and Museum. Children's museums include The Fernbank Science Center and Imagine It! Children's Museum of Atlanta.

Piedmont Park hosts many of Atlanta's festivals and cultural events.^[54] Atlanta Botanical Garden sits next to the park. Zoo Atlanta, in Grant Park, features a panda exhibit. Just east of the city rises Stone Mountain, the largest piece of exposed granite in the world.^[55]

Um, excuse me Wikipedia, Stone Mountain Park is not just a big rock. It has great natural beauty and several attractions. It’s 15 minutes from my house.

CONCLUSION

Now, if Atlanta was such a horrible, redneck, backward place, do you think any of the information above would be true? I don’t think so. Atlanta is a wonderful place. I don’t ever plan on living anywhere else.

If I pine for a small town, I can be in beautiful downtown Tucker, Georgia in 5-10 minutes. I can drive for maybe 30 minutes and be in the country.

Here’s one thing I really love about this city – you can live a nice life here without being a millionaire. If you want to buy a decent-sized three bedroom, 3 bath house, in a decent area, you don’t need 2 million dollars. You can buy a nice house for $300,000 or less, and not have to drive 2 hours to work. I have a nice 4 bedroom house in a lovely area with good schools within walking distance, and my commute is 30 minutes. I can get in the car and be in the mountains in 1.5 hours. I can be on the beach in 6.5 hours.

And finally, here’s probably my very favorite fact about my town: I NEVER EVER EVER have to shovel snow. Heck, most winter days I don’t even need a heavy coat!