encore presentation of my left hand tonight...

Our good friend Josh Isaac's documentary, My Left Hand will screen tonight in an encore presentation at Congregation Beth Shalom in Seattle. If you're in town and haven't seen it, it's definitely worth seeing--especially if you've ever been affected by cancer.

I don't write much about Josh's battle because he does it so powerfully in his own blog. But this film is incredibly moving in that it truly captures his strength, perseverance, and even his sense of humor during his painful journey. Josh's voice is strong in this film and the experience is something you won't forget.

my left hand : A film by Joshua Isaac
Thursday, January 29, 7:00 pm
Congregation Beth Shalom 6800 35th Ave NE, Seattle
1-800-838-3006 or http://www.brownpapertickets.com/

If you can’t attend (or even if you can but want your own) you can purchase a copy of My Left Hand from the website. They’ll also try to sell a few at the screening minus the shipping and handling fees. And Josh is donating a portion of the funds from the sales to support the NW Sarcoma Foundation.

spotlight on sienna... (aka naomi)

Because I've been so swamped with life in general, I thought I'd post this little interview with Naomi... Enjoy!

Interview with Naomi:

Me: Okay, Naomi... First, what is your name?

Naomi: Sienna. Girl Sienna.

Me: That's not your name. What's your real name?

Naomi: Noemi Bomi.

Me: What's your favorite thing to do?

Naomi: My favorite thing is about coloring.

Me: What's your favorite color?

Naomi: green marker

Me: What's your fave dinner?

Naomi: macaroni and cheese or noodles

Me: Those are the same things.

Naomi: Noooooooooo!

Me: How old are you?

Naomi: six

Me: How old am I?

Naomi: four and a half

Naomi's other faves:

Fave playmates: Naomi and Alexandra and Aviva or Fifi

Fave toy: pizza

What do big girls like to do? Play dress-up

Fave outfit: underwears

Special talent: Can fall asleep absolutely anywhere at anytime

a little white lie about the tooth fairy...

Despite a large number of false alarms, Talia has her first real loose tooth.
She now pretty much always has her fingers in her mouth, trying to wiggle loose the tiny little tooth that is the size of a bitty grain of rice, and her excitement over this rite of passage has brought on the inevitable.

"Is the Tooth Fairy real?" She asked me last night.

With Samuel, I skirted the issue, careful not to lie to my firstborn. I was careful to practice the art of honest parenting.

"Do you want the Tooth Fairy to be real?" I'd asked him.
"Only if she is," he'd said.
"Well," I tried, "what do you think?"
"I think I wish she was real, but I know she's probably not."
"Hmmm," I nodded.
"And Mommy," he added, "I don't really want some strange fairy putting things under my pillow, so if she's real, I really want to know."

I knew how he felt. As a kid, when I'd lost a tooth at my cousin sister Princess Mikkimoto's house, it creeped me out so much to think about a little fairy messing around near my head while I slept that my lovely uncle graciously put the tooth under his pillow and the fairy left the treats there. I remember staying awake, listening for the fairy, or the dogs to bark at the fairy's arrival, and feeling guilty that I'd made Uncle Dick carry the burden of my weakness.

But there was a dollar under his pillow in the morning.

And I told Samuel that what he suspected about the fairy was the truth, despite my feeble attempts to keep the story alive by programming the Tooth Fairy's "cell phone number" onto my phone. Still, whenever he loses a tooth, he dutifully puts it under his pillow each time and is always pleased to see the fairy dust (glitter kept in my closet for each such occasion) and treat in the morning. I can tell that he's glad he knows the truth because that's what kind of a person he is, but that something in him still wishes he could believe the story.

So when Tali asked me about the Tooth Fairy. I did what I knew I should do for her.

I flat-out lied.

"Absolutely," I told her. "We should give her a call to let her know your tooth is loose so that she can get things ready."

"Oooooh! I'll write her a letter!" Tali said, always happy to utilize her new spelling skills. "And maybe when I lose the tooth, I'll leave her a treat, too, like kids leave for Santa Claus. I can leave some cookies under my pillow for her!"

"Um, Bunny... I don't think that's a great idea," I said, thinking about crumbs in bed.

"Oh, you're right," She agreed nodding. "Everyone knows Santa isn't real."

making history (homework)...

wordless wednesday...

president obama is in the house... (the white house, that is...)

He had a very busy day, but that didn't stop President Barack H. Obama from stopping by my kids' school today for a little volunteer time. The kids were so excited to see him and even though he was in a hurry, he stayed to greet them hello on this special morning.

He even hung out for some photo opps...

He seemed a little stiff, but nerves will do that to a person, don't you think?

Later on, after the festivities and because we weren't invited to any of the official inaugural balls, we had our own ball with Rachel Maddow on the tube and some Obama cookies.

And then we ate them... Yummy Baracko-cookies... (Okay, Naomi licked hers, but it seems generally wrong to talk about licking presidents)Rock on #44!...

It was an amazing day... Besides being pretty much glued to CNN all day, I can't get over what Obama's election means for our country and I seriously have hope for our future. It was such an intensely positive day--everyone seemed so happy and together in their optimisim. Truly, it feels like a real person who understands real issues became president today.

Hope may actually be more than a tagline...

two days in a row to make a person feel uncharacteristically patriotic...

"Hey Mama," Talia asks me. "What do you think Martin Luther King would say about BarackObama being president tomorrow?" In our house, Barack Obama has become one word.

"I think he'd be pretty proud of him. What do you think?

"I think he'd be so happy and proud of him, his eyes would get all wet and he'd cry like you did at my Oneg," Talia says.

I laugh. "I think you're probably right."

"I think BarackObama planned to become president so close to Martin Luther King's birthday. He's got real good timing, don't you think?"

"Yup," I tell her. "Tomorrow couldn't be a better day for him to become our president."


Tomorrow!!!!!!

i've been punk'd...

Late last summer, I replaced our old crumbling outdoor path lights with some new solar-powered lights. I thought it would be the green thing to do. They looked great and for the first two weeks, they worked perfectly. We were perfectly illuminated.

And then the sun went away and the lights have been dark ever since...

Which leads me to the next three questions (yes, I've been practicing my counting):

1. Seriously, what kind of a tool brain would sell solar powered outdoor lighting in Seattle, the city that spends 10 and a half months a year soaking wet and in the dark? (Oh wait, don't answer that. It was Target...)

2. What kind of a bigger tool brain forgets that they get about six weeks a year of sun and then goes out and buys said solar lighting?

3. And why is it that waaaaaay too many Seattle-ites are using this lighting? There are a countless number of houses with dark pathways like ours, and I never noticed them until ours went dark. Did everyone catch the same stupid end of season sale that I did?

Sigh... I think all this darkness is getting to me.

naomi defends against the dark forces of evil, i mean winter...

I didn't mean to let so much time slip by between blog posts, but it seems like the darkest of winter crazies has hit my family big time.

I know that I complain about Winter every year, and every year it seems unbelievably darker and wetter and sometimes even colder (remember Siberia? Oh wait, that was Seattle in June, which just felt like Winter, but wasn't actually) than any year in the history of anywhere. And maybe I'm still recovering from three weeks of being snowed in during Winter break.

But people, there is not enough coffee in the world to wake me up when the sun won't shine. I am truly a California girl at heart.

And so I've been slogging through these days, not fully awake, not fully tuned in, and slinging back mug after mug of coffee. (Note to self: Despite the fact that there isn't enough sun to fully wake up at any part of the day, you will still get that unfortunate caffeine edginess.)

And really, it's not just me.
The kids are waking up later and later, and coming home from school exhausted. They're also developing dark circles under their eyes (perhaps a sign of early onset rickets?) and they're unusually crabby and whiny.

If not rickets, maybe we're all just coming down off the holidays... In complete darkness.

We're going to have to find some ways to get through this season, considering we're only in January. One of my friends who grew up in Minnesota suggested framing one's face in tinfoil to ensure you get the brightest of any rays possible. I'm sure she was kidding, but um, don't laugh if you see me decked out in Reynold's Wrap.

At least we have Naomi to defend us...

sometimes you just have to do what you can to round those kids up...*

wordless wednesday

*Not even one child was harmed during this round-up...

what wii did during our winter break...

The kids are back to school (thank goodness Sunday's Seattle snow didn't terrify Seattle schools into calling another snowday on Monday--my gaskets have been preserved) and we're very slowly working our way back into a normal, regular schedule. Last night after dinner, baths, and homework, we even got the kids to bed at a halfway decent hour--which is also pretty normal.

The only spur sticking out of our totally well-greased machine of a schedule (I'm cracking myself up here) is that after almost three weeks of no school, the kids are resistant to going back to the no screen time during the school week rule.

They watched a lot of television and played a lot of Wii during their snowdays and winter break. A lot. There's been a whole new population explosion of Miis on our Wii, and after discovering the Wii Fit, the kids have started complaining about getting antsy without their morning workout. Huh. And that bouncy little Wii medley? We all know that by heart now. Naomi was humming it to herself in the bathtub last night.

It is my fault they got out of control.
In attempt to get some work done, I knew it'd be easy to put on the Tinkerbell video, give the girls a bowl of popcorn, and know that an hour and 22 minutes was take care of. And all of them like the Wii. And Samuel did learn some interesting things about Native American history on Google (though I did have to do some supervising--who would've thought that searching on "Squanto" would bring up sexy photos?) Seriously, that was one long winter break with some serious cabin fever...

But when they start getting antsy for the screens, it makes me nervous. For someone who is definitely drawn to technology and video games herself, maybe it's hypocritical of me to feel so skeptical about the draw. We all know that moderation is good, too much television is bad for multiple reasons, but what about something like that Wii? They're interacting with each other, they're getting physical activity, especially with the Wii Fit, and they're even using their imaginations as they role play with some of the games.

Yesterday, on an NPR story about the closing of the Woolworth's stores, a woman was talking about how her childhood memories included buying a bag of broken biscuits from Woolworth's and taking them home to eat with her brother in a tent they'd made in the living room out of sheets.

Which got me thinking...
My kids don't make tents out of sheets. And at the risk of becoming a cliche, I used to love making tents out of sheets. I also used to love to play outside, which is something my kids don't do much of because of all the rain. And I walked to school. Or at least to the bus stop.

And even though Samuel loves the Wii Fit and loves to jump and do all the physical activities, and is even very interested in what makes a body healthy and how much activity needs to go into that, I feel a bit sad when he talks about taking an early morning "jog" around Lake Wii.

But I guess the thing I worry most about is are they losing those wonderful make-believe games they loved to play just a few years ago, especially Samuel, because the video games are so much more attractive? Or is he simply outgrowing them?

For now we'll experiment by taking away the DS and putting away the Wii controllers during the week so that he's freer to do the other things he enjoys. And our normal schedule doesn't really involve a lot of time around the house, anyway, so it's a pretty natural change.

But after the kids go to bed, I'll bet there will be some Wii Fitting going on. Boaz has some pretty slick hula hooping moves...

finders, keepers...

The other day, as we were hanging out in the lobby of the Embassy Suites in Portland, waiting to check out, a woman set down a bunch of shopping bags near us and Tali gasped.

"Look, Momma! Same, same!" She squealed, pointing to a Nordstrom bag and then the little Nordstrom card she was holding.

While we all checked our wallets to make sure we hadn't lost our credit cards, I saw that it was a Nordstrom gift card, all glittery and shiny in it's consumer possibilities. "Hey Tal, where did you get that?"

"I found it on the street. Can I keep it? Please, please, please... It's so shiny and I could play store with it."

"I don't know," I said. "Let's see if it's been used or not. It might be a gift card with money on it."

She understands this immediately and starts chanting "I'm rich, I'm rich, I'm rich! I can buy anything I want!"

So today as we're getting ready to go to the grocery store, I call up Nordys and find out there is $200 on the card. I didn't really expect that much and while I doubt my five year old has any concept how much that is, we all spent a good thirty minutes trying to figure out what she'd buy with her newfound riches. And then T remembered a purse she'd seen awhile back that was shaped like a pug, but with handles and a zipper down its back. A beautiful puggy purse with a sparkly pink collar (and you know how we feel about sparkly collars in this house) wearing a price tag of $40 which had previously earned her only a palm on her forehead to see if she was burning a fever or just indeed truly crazy. And now she wanted that purse badly.

"So can we go?" she asked hopefully.

But here's the thing. I'm a total and utter goody-goody. I kept trying to picture the person who lost the card--some guy who bought it for his wife at the last minute, or some college student who was just psyched to be able to buy some ridiculously priced jeans, and I couldn't quite help thinking that if it were me, I'd try pretty hard to figure out a way to get it back.

So I call up Nordstrom's customer service department and tell the guy on the other end that my five year old daughter found this giftcard and we were wondering if it were at all possible to trace who it belonged to.

"Ma'am, it's like cash," he tells me when I reluctantly give him the account number. "This was purchased at a grocery store so it'd be hard to track."

"But what if someone had their receipt?" I asked.

"Well, I'm still not sure they'd be able to track it. You have to have the card number on it."

"So... There's nothing we can do about it?" I ask. There are serious groans from the kids who are standing around me.

"Well, if it makes you feel better, I could put a hold on it."

"Hmmm," I say. "I'm not sure that would make me feel better."

"Since you told me it wasn't yours, that's probably what I should do," he tells me, making me feel like a total imbecile for a number of reasons, including pushing him to put a hold on it.

"We can't keep it, can we," Tali says knowingly when I hang up the phone.

"Nope," I tell her. "Really, it's not ours."

"If we kept it, would it be like stealing? Could they send a five year old to jail?" She seems both worried and excited at the same time.

"Here's the thing," I tell her, after assuring her that nobody will be putting her in jail, "as much as I'd love to go on a shopping spree with you, it doesn't feel right to me to spend that money. What do you think?"

Tali actually looks relieved for a second. "It's not ours," she says. "But I really, really, really want it," she manages to get out before she starts crying. The truth is too much for her at the moment. But it isn't a sad or tantrum-y cry--it's just an overwhelmed cry. And I'm so proud of her.

But boy, I know how she feels... And if you see any sparkly puggy purses on sale, let me know.

skipping ahead to new year's day the tinkerbell way...

I hate New Year's Eve.

I do. Just thinking about it makes me crabby. Hell, knowing that it's tonight is making me crabby. The number of good New Year's Eves I've had can be counted on one hand, and really, I remember only two or three of them. And the best have been fairly recent and involving mellow evenings watching the ball drop on TV with the kids snoozing next to us on the couch.

The thing about New Year's is that it feels like a set up.
I know I sound like the world's biggest downer right now. But it's true. And I'm not even talking about the parties and having a good time, looking like you're having a good time, and making sure you have plans that involve a good time--or in fact, the best time of the year. And there's the pressure to make everything seem perfect and sparkly and somehow symbolic of where you are at this point in your life and of what you've achieved.

I really like having a good time, but I'm not so good with that pressure.

And really, it's the next day that truly works for me.
The first day of the year feels like a fresh start. I love the morning after because the resolutions have been set and you get that clean slate to start things over. You'll lose weight, exercise more, be nicer to those you love, write that novel, learn to cook better, do your laundry, get more organized, yadda yadda yadda.

And I know, I know... I have never yet had a year where I've been able to say that I've fulfilled all of my New Year's resolutions. I've lost weight, gained it back, joined gyms and never went, bought parenting books that have never been cracked, passed off pre-made food as my own (you'll never know which dishes, either!), and have about twelve first chapters to as many different novel starts.

But on the first day of the year, I have hope. I'm not behind in fulfilling any resolutions and the year holds the promise of unknown achievements and accomplishments. I feel almost like a kid again in the fact that I truly feel like anything might be possible.

And with that kind of hope, maybe anything is possible.

Don't gag... I haven't quite lost my mind. And while I'm writing this, the girls and a friend are watching the TinkerBell movie and maybe the Disney creepiness has creeped into my brain.

But still, to start fresh once a year... There is something magic in that.

Happy 2009!

not exactly what i meant when i said, "go play with your sister..."

wordless wednesday...

pacific northwest winter IMs midwest winter...

Pacific NW: BTW, we're getting four more inches today
Midwest: WOW, that's crazy for you guys right?
PNW: ...and i saw my very first snowplow!
MW: We are getting more today too. LMAO! that is so funny to me
PNW: We never get more than 2 or 3 inches... we don't need many snowplows.
MW: there are almost more snow plows here then cars.
PNW: and now there's about a foot of snow outside our houses.
MW: for sure more snowplows than buses and taxis.
MW: WOW!
PNW: Yeah... the streets are horrible.
MW: OMG, I bet...
PNW: Only some streets are plowed and Seattle has decided that salt is too unPC so nobody is salting the streets for fear of endangering the salmon.
MW: SHUT UP
PNW: Yeah, more than two inches shuts down the whole city, and all the schools, too. You never know when you're going to encounter a bad street. Oh yeah...
MW: But you could all die in car accidents... OMG Seattle, LOL
PNW: Yes, but our salmon pies will be safe. We're known for our salmon
MW: LOL
PNW: They are so precious. They are our reason for living.
MW: Thank goodness... Forget human life
PNW: Humans can be evil
MW: true
PNW: salmon = goodness
MW: Happy Holidays, you people!
PNW: And then we eat them...
MW: Because you are evil... Duh
PNW: Yes, duh...

we'll miss emilie...

I just found out that Emilie Lemmons, the writer of the blog, Lemmondrops, died yesterday and even though I never met Emilie in person, her passing is a huge loss to this world.

I found Emilie's blog by combing through blogrolls and was hooked from the start. Her courageous story about her battle with cancer was terrifying, but Emilie's approach was courageous, strong and hopeful. Her blog was beautifully written and through her writing, I feel like everyone who read it was given the chance to get to know her. I've never even heard her voice, and the communications I've had with her were just over a few emails and through reading her blog, but I learned a lot from Emilie about strength, priorities, and perspective. Even through the most challenging of trials, Emilie was optimistic, warm, and never without her sense of humor.

She leaves behind her husband Steve and their two very young boys. My heart breaks for them as I listen to the loud fullness of our house. My kids are cranky after another exciting night of Chanuka and as they cuddle their new dolls, my girls are oddly singing round after round of Dayenu, the traditional Passover song that translates to "It should've been enough." It seems fitting, though, for this moment when I'm thinking about Emilie and her battle--what she's gone through.

May her memory be a blessing to those who loved her.

Dayenu...

no winter break is complete without a trip to the ER...

After a rough and terrifying early morning spill down the stairs, Naomi and I took a trip to Children's Hospital this morning to patch up her chin. It was all pretty minor in the scheme of things, and I think the sight of blood on her little sister upset Tali more than anyone. But Naomi wasn't all together convinced that her first trip to the ER would be a good thing.

But with a little topical anesthetic, some cheese and crackers, and a cup of apple juice, our girl was as good as gold. She even came home with a little sparkly stuffed bear.

I think we'll abstain from sledding today, though, so that our extreme story climber will have some time to heal.

having ourselves a happy white chanuka...

So I know you midwesterners/east coasters are having a nice little chuckle about how much we puget sounders are rattling on about the snow and all, but people...

There are 9 and a half inches of snow outside our house where two is historically a Seattle blizzard.

And because we live in a city where there are maybe twenty snowplows (and that does include SeaTac airport) and I've yet to see a street that has been plowed or salted or whatever people do to snowy streets, and I still have no idea really even what a snowplow looks like, we had a merry little Chanuka at home last night instead of the rocking party we'd planned.

So we cooked our huge 8lb brisket, made enough latkes for five, sang lots of silly songs and then opened some presents. The first night of Chanuka is usually pretty magical because the kids are so into the holiday and they're so gracious with the gifts. If I were really smart about it, I'd give them the boring gifts on the first night, like pajamas and bathrobes, but knowing we'd be stuck in the house, they each got a Lego set that made them insanely happy. (Though today, each one of them is frustrated and unable to put it together on their own and I'm chock done with Legos by this morning.)

Still... Despite the fact that the kids are going nutty, driving me nutty, and our house looks like a tornado has sucked up every one of our belongings and the spewed it out randomly and unevenly throughout every room, I'm enjoying the snow. Really. Not sure if I'd welcome four more months of this without the technology of snowplows, but as soon as I get in a few hours of work, we're putting on our skis and heading down to the Rite Aid for some more milk.

Good times...

i need one like a hole in my head...

My kids want a pet. Badly.

I know this because not only do they never ever ever never stop talking about it, but pretty much every object they can get their hands on becomes their pet. In the summer, I have to keep rescuing worms that have smuggled into our house under the guise of them being "saved" to become a pet, and when worse comes to worse, one of them just leashes up Naomi with one of Boaz's ties and calls "Here girl!" to her. (She comes, too... I probably should worry about that.)

Even just a few days ago (when it really did snow, not just on a day when it didn't snow but we called it a "snow day") we went for a family walk in the snow and while they walked, Sam and Tali each held in their gloved hands a snowball that they fed, cuddled and named (respectively called Spike and Snowy). And of course, yesterday was devastating when Spikey and Snowy melted in the warm winter sun that was our unsnow day.

So in order to cheer them up, and because there was no school on account of it being closed because of the impending storm that never came and ironically, the roads were safer than they'd been for days, we took a trip to Target where we planned to pick out birthday presents for their four friends having birthdays next week. And on the way to the toy section, we passed the pet section.

"Momma! I know what I want for Chanuka! I want a leash!" squealed Tali as we wheel by the endcap.

"Um, Tali, Sweetie... We don't have a dog."

"Yeah, but wouldn't Naomi look so cute in that pink sparkly one?"

"Not really, since Naomi is a person, not a dog."

"I like that, Momma," piped in Naomi. "I want it."

"Um, no."

"OOOOH LOOK!" Tali couldn't leave the display. "Izzy would look so great in that little dog sweater!" she practically screamed, referring to our friend Kim and Josh's pug that she's totally and utterly in love with. Tali pointed to a dog sweater with a Star of David pattern on the back. They were placed next to the Santa Dog costumes. "Or," she said slyly, "we could get her the Santa Dog costume. Izzy would look good with a beard."

"We're not buying dog clothes or leashes," I told the kids and then ended up buying presents for their friends--of which 3 of 4 were battery operated toys that barked or did something pet-like. (Sorry, Friends!)

But we do have a definite pet issue. Mainly because Samuel is allergic to dogs and cats, and also because I have three kids, one still in diapers, and I can't manage on more living being to care for. Fish are out because they die too easily and in our house, one must be fairly hardy. Birds are loud, lizards and rats are too gross, and well, so are any other kind of small rodents, too.

And the truth is, I am really not an animal person.

I'd like to be... It seems like a nice thing to be--very caring and um, compassionate or something. And they're cute, too. But I just know that I'll be the one to take care of an extra living being under our roof, and my care and compassion is spent on kids. And well, I don't want fur all over my house.

Oh, and Samuel is allergic to them, too. Have I mentioned that?

So here's the other problem... The only dog that Samuel has never had a reaction to was Ozzie, the dog we spent time with in Italy with our friends. Samuel was five, but has never gotten over Ozzie, the cute little old poodle with the skin problems. And lately, he has been reminding me about how maybe he wouldn't be allergic to a poodle, or a labradoodle, or even better yet, a golden doodle. And they are cute... And cuddly... And I won't be having anymore little babies, which is absolutely not a reason to get a dog, but I thought I'd throw that in there.

So next month, because I can't hold out any longer, we're getting Samuel tested again. And then at least I'll know whether or not to invest in a pink sparkly leash for Naomi.

snow day #2--this time with feeling (and snow)...

Yesterday the Seattle School District called a snow day, even though there wasn't any new snow yet. Mostly, it was the anticipation of a snow storm that kept the schools closed. And all day long we watched the windows, looking for some action. Nothing.



The weather report predicted snow for last night and jaded, the kids did their homework and got ready for school the next day only to wake up to a bright white world. It's been snowing all day, which is a lot of Western Washington and we've all been pretty excited about playing in all this white stuff.

We're all pretty sure the schools will be closed again tomorrow so I guess winter break has come early for the kids this year... No more school until 2009!

a good mannequin is hard to find (especially around the holidays)...

wordless wednesday...