Popcorn and Sushi

Impatience, and an Important Book

3:05: 
"Do you think he's home yet?"
"No.  Give him ten more minutes."
3:07:
"Can I see if he's home yet?"
"I'm sure he isn't.  I said you need to wait ten minutes or so."
3:08:
"Do you think he's there yet?"
"Can't you give him a few more minutes?"
Slam!

There goes Second Child, out the door and on the way up the hill to see if his new friend (and fellow Pokemon aficionado) is home from school.  We're happy about this friend, just moved in from California, whose family actually has chosen to live off base, unlike most of the military families here.  He's a good kid and a good fit for ours, and I must say, we're thrilled to have an American boy for Second Child to play with, after two years of nobody.  Sure, there have been street-soccer matches with a few Japanese boys nearby,  but  that just hasn't been enough.  Second Child has had on-base friends, but most of them have stayed busy with the loads of other on-base kids, who roam the base playgrounds in packs.  We know all about this; we lived on base for two years.

And then there's First Child, whose best friend moved in June, and will be moving again next year, and the year after that (military kids have to put up with a lot!).  One reason we put both kids in school for a couple of hours in the mornings is so they might each make a couple of new friends; it's unfortunate that there are very few homeschoolers here, so those kinds of friendships have been few and far-between.  Actually, I believe that a child really needs only a few good friends, and in fact, this is all most kids can handle.  In June I read a wonderful book, Hold On to Your Kids: Why Parents Need to Matter More Than Peers.  I really believe this book should be required reading for parents--that's how strongly I feel about it.  The authors, two Canadian doctors,  talk about how kids are often pushed (by their parents!) into not being "shy" or "too weird"--imagine that: in a society as seemingly non-conformist as ours (the U.S. and Canada), here we are, telling our kids not to stand out!  The authors also believe that rebellion against one's parents isn't unavoidable; rather, it's a sign that kids (often teens) have bonded too closely with their peers, who have in some ways practically replaced the parents.  It's fascinating stuff, and there's much to learn about how peer attachment has created heaps of problems for much of the developed world. 

Read it and be amazed.  Then keep your kids as close as you can, for as long as you can.  Of course, let them head up the street for that occasional Pokemon battle.

Dog Days

It's hot here.  Really hot, surprisingly so--and terribly humid, New Orleans-style.  Which is why I'm a bit surprised that Husband has gone off on a morning kayaking trip on the river with his good friend M., owner of the kayaks.  Morning is about to become Afternoon, and Husband is not hip to this heat, so we'll have to see how it goes.

When I'm out in such searing heat, I feel how this Vietnamese dog must have felt--too hot and tired to  care that someone might photograph me with rice on my nose.  First Child has just walked in the door, looking somewhat wilted after a trip down the hill to the closest grocery store (and then back up the same hill, of course).  It was Second Child's idea to go for some provisions--rather, for his sister to go for some provisions while he stayed here and played the Wii.  It was necessary to buy not only Japanese bread (mostly for Second Child, who spurns cereal, and I'm not up for doing pancakes or eggs this a.m.), but other important items such as green apple gum and these cheap fruit gummy sticks which I believe are made with konnyaku. 

It's a lazy day, one like the past few, during which we've unpacked, done laundry, bought groceries several times, done more laundry, waded through mail, attempted to drink our weight in cold green tea, and otherwise tried to stay out of the heat and finish getting over jet lag.  Work resumes mid-week for Husband, so now we're doing our best to do almost nothing, after an incredible (and incredibly busy!) summer.  Hopefully your summer has not been quite as productive as ours, or you are likely very, very tired.  We know the  feeling.

Thursday Morning, Chez Nous

Schlup, schlup.  Schlup, schlup...schlup.

"What is that?  What the...?!"

Oh.  It's eight-year-old Second Child, clomping through the house in blue flippers.  Because he can.

Elsewhere, First Child and I perform an Abbott and Costello routine:

She: "I can't play 'Fur Elise' with the pedal!"

I: "You haven't practiced it with the pedal."

She: "That's because it doesn't sound right when I play it that way."

I: "It will sound right after you practice it!"

She: "But it doesn't sound right..."

I:  " It will sound right once you...oh, forget it!"

Tooth on a String

Someone we know, the father of three young boys, recently told Husband that one of his sons had once tied a loose tooth to a remote-control car, then pushed a button on the remote and made the car zip away, taking the tooth with it! I know--it sounds so barbaric, yet if you knew these kids, all would become clear. So then the very next day, I'm at home when I hear a "WHAM!" coming from another room, where lo and behold, tied to a string hanging from our bathroom doorknob is one of Second Child's front teeth.  No-sirree, no-way, no-bob, no-how would I have ever let my parents tie one of my teeth to a doorknob and slam the door, but this is exactly what Second Child let his dad do.  Granted, this was a stubborn tooth, one we all wanted him to get out, as it had been chipped and discolored for several years.  But the fact that Second Child was looking for a little financial love from the Tooth Fairy  is likely what really came into play.  Ah, what the pursuit of money can do to a person--even a seven-year-old!

Not the Toot Food

I won't say that Second Child is a picky eater--Husband likes to say that picky eaters would starve in our house--but lately his tastes have become a little difficult to gauge.

Last week at lunchtime, he happily accepted and even requested Amy's Bean Burritos, one of few organic foods we are able to get our mitts on in our commissary, and something I like to prepare because I can be in and out of the kitchen in two and a half minutes. 

Apparently something "happened" to change his mind of late, as today when I handed him his just-microwaved burrito, he looked at it, then at me, and said, "Not the toot food!"

What?  I asked him to repeat what he'd said to make sure I'd heard him right, and yep.  That was it.  "What do you mean, 'toot food'?" I asked. 

"You know, (insert mouth-produced flatulent sound)."

While I stood there laughing, he proceeded to hand the burrito on over to his sister, with the encouraging admonition, "Here.  Knock y'self out."

This is my child.