public house

2012-01-30T08:21:00.000-10:00

The Snowy Day

A favorite book in our house just turned 50:

One morning many years ago, a little boy in Brooklyn named Peter woke up to an amazing sight: fresh snow...Peter has a red snowsuit, a stick just right for knocking snow off of trees, and a snowball in his pocket. And, though this is never mentioned in the text, Peter is African-American.

You can read the rest of the article here.

2012-01-27T18:17:00.006-10:00

Alana's Injera Recipe

If you've ever had Ethiopian food, you know what injera is. It's this amazingly delicious, slightly sour, very thin bread that you use to scoop up various kinds of tasty Ethiopian dishes. A lot of people are afraid to make injera, but I really don't think it's that hard if you're laid back about it. I thought I'd post the recipe I use here in case anyone wants to give it a go. It's copied from a message I sent to a friend. Feel free to yell at me in the comments for whatever inauthentic materials or ingredients or procedures you think I'm using. But honestly, I probably won't change my method, because the end product here is tasty and works great with shiro.

Okay, so here's the injera recipe I kinda sorta follow, with some amendments. I started with a recipe from a book called Exotic Ethiopian Cooking and made some adjustments based on what works best for me. As I said before, I switch in a little all-purpose flour, but I don't remember how much. I'm sorry. I'm really bad with recipes. Make sure you use a good, hot, nonstick pan and sprinkle with salt each time--NO OIL!--and definitely cover with a lid as suggested. I also scrape any injera bits off the pan about every third one to keep the surface smooth and non-sticky. Add in a little water or a little extra flour at cook time to get the consistency just right, too. And don't be afraid to adjust along the way. If your first piece of injera is too thick, add some water. If it's too thin, add some flour. Think of it like making crepes or pancakes, and don't stress too much about it. Good luck!

Here goes:

1 1/2 lbs tef
6 cups water
2 packages yeast

In large bowl/bucket dissolve yeast in warm water, add flour mixture and mix. Leave covered 1-2 days until fermentation begins and water rises to top. (Trust me. It will happen.) Carefully discard water from top. Stir mixture and add all purpose flour or water until mixture is just right. Let sit for about 10 minutes while you preheat your pan.

Preheat pan on medium-high heat. Sprinkle a little salt on the pan before pouring mixture on EVERY TIME. Take about 1/2 cup of the mixture and pour into the pan slowly, starting at the edge and going in circles and coming to the center. Cover pan for 2-4 minutes. When ready, the edge of the injera will rise away from the pan. Don't remove the injera until the edge is pulling away all the way around. Remove immediately using a thin spatula and place on a clean cloth to cool. You can stack the pieces of injera on top of each other and just cover the top with a cloth. Injera can be covered and stored in a cool place or refrigerated for about 2-3 days. Makes 6-8 servings.

You can order tef from Bob's Red Mill, but often you can also find it in bulk in health food stores.

And that's it! Happy eating!

2012-01-25T23:04:00.004-10:00

Reading Material: Liam Neeson Edition

What with an election coming up, I know all of you have a lot of very serious questions running around in your minds. So do I. I was glad to see that NPR addressed one of them for me.

"What Should Liam Neeson Punch Next?"

At some point, [Liam Neeson] got really into beating people up. In 2008, he had a huge hit with Taken, where he beats people up because they kidnapped his daughter. In Clash Of The Titans, he vicariously beat people up by releasing the Kraken. (Not a euphemism.) Then his desire for action became such that he actually joined The A Team! (You probably didn't see that one.) Last year in Unknown, he beat up everyone who didn't recognize him. (Which was everyone.) In the upcoming Battleship, if I am understanding the premise, he's going to fight aliens with boats...

And this Friday, in The Grey? Wolves. That's right. Liam Neeson is fighting wolves...

This naturally raises the question: After you've punched a wolf and released the Kraken, what is left to punch?

I won't tell you what the answers are, but one of them has been known to have difficulty with swivel chairs.

2012-01-24T22:04:00.008-10:00

Elopement

This past weekend, I had the pleasure of photographing a friend's wedding here in Hawaii. I know I'm biased--we eloped to Scotland--but I have never understood why the big family wedding so often wins out over running off to some exotic place. I mean, just look at this location:

You don't ordinarily get photos like this at the local church:

Even children love beach weddings!

2012-01-19T14:56:00.005-10:00

Food for Thought...

Has anyone else listened to this fascinating, albeit distressing, episode of This American Life? How did it make you feel? Does any of this change the way you think about your possessions? Do you agree with the Krugman quote at the end, that sweatshop labor is both awful and wonderful at the same time?

"Mr. Daisey and the Apple Factory"

Mike Daisey was a self-described "worshipper in the cult of Mac." Then he saw some photos from a new iPhone, taken by workers at the factory where it was made. Mike wondered: Who makes all my crap? He traveled to China to find out.

It's definitely worth a listen, especially if you have a computer or a television or, you know, wear clothes and shoes and stuff.

2012-01-17T09:14:00.002-10:00

Yes, I Still Miss New York

And I loved this poem over at 5-7-5. I enjoyed flying into and out of LaGuardia when we lived in the NYC. I almost always flew right over our neighborhood, which was great fun, and flying in or out at night was an extra special treat. New York looks so starry and peaceful from the air. Although the view flying into Honolulu is also striking, mainly because after hours and hours of dark ocean, unexpectedly there's life again.

But whereas a flight into New York always made me feel hopeful, something about so many miles of ocean surrounding me on all sides feels a bit...ominous. I suppose I'll get used to it.

Won't I?

Gosh, I hope so.

2012-01-14T18:41:00.003-10:00

Fine. I Made a New Year's Resolution.

Well, not a resolution so much as a project. Xander and I decided that our resolution is...(drum roll)...(more drum role for added drama)...to watch a lot of movies! What? You were expecting something involving exercise and dieting? HA!

No. We're going to watch a fuckton of movies. And we need your help. We've decided to let our friends dictate what we watch in 2012. No movie is too esoteric nor too controversial nor too stupid. What movie do you love? Hate? Find hard to watch? Feel completely ambivalent about that everyone else liked? First thing that pops into your head. Seriously.

Ready? Set? GO!

2012-01-08T00:00:00.001-10:00

Play Kitchen

We made the twins a play kitchen as a gift for Ethiopian Christmas. Normally kids would get new clothes on such an occasion, but well, our kids got a kitchen because I didn't think of it in time to give it to them on December 25th, but I didn't want to wait until next year. But traditions are there to be broken, right? No? Meh. Whatever.

We used a cabinet that's about 30 years old, some cardboard, a few odds and ends from the hardware store, some leftover oil cloth from a rug I made, and paint for a total cost of about $30. I'll post more about how we made it soon, but here are a couple of photos in the meantime. I have to say I'm really proud of how it turned out!

2012-01-07T20:54:00.002-10:00

Melkam Gena, Y'all!

2012-01-04T20:59:00.002-10:00

Mundane, Everyday Stuff

It's really not so bad here.

2012-01-01T12:06:00.003-10:00

Eat Food, Drink Drinks: A 2012 Resolution

It's a new year again, and like many a Southern lady I will be eating black eyed peas and collard greens for dinner. No, you can't get local black eyed peas, but they do have greens here, and in abundance! One of my latest food obsessions is kimchi. It's pretty much the best thing ever in all its variations. In honor of my new surroundings, I decided to cook up this year's greens kimchi-style. It was a good decision, let me tell you. The end result is a pleasant variation on my former spicy collard greens recipe, still spicy and a little bit sweet, but with a hint of Asian influence.

I've had local dishes on the brain a lot lately, so when I walked out of my kitchen to read the news I was glad to discover this article:

Artisanal And Authentic, The Flavors Of The New Year

Come 2012, there's a new food vocabulary: authentic, craft, small batch, artisanal, rustic and, of course, local. It's the opposite of processed, mass produced and factory farmed.

One of my happiest challenges over the last several years is learning to cook and eat where I am. Every move requires learning new things in the kitchen. Eating good food, locally produced and thoughtfully prepared, is one of life's most wonderful and simple joys, I think, and I feel lucky to have prepared and eaten meals in so many different places. Hoping I get to revisit old favorites and discover some new ones in the years to come!

2011-12-31T09:11:00.002-10:00

I Wrote This

I wrote this. No, I didn't. I didn't? Wait, I didn't write that? Oh. Because I could have sworn I wrote that.

But justice will prevail. Someone will hire me...eventually. I will go back to work, someone will pay me for it, and it will be amazing.

2012. Bring it.

2011-12-30T08:58:00.004-10:00

Things I Love: Kitchen Edition

I am not a kitchen appliance person. I don't own a food processor or a microwave. I don't have special gadgets for frying the perfect egg. I don't even have a garlic press. But I do have one thing in my kitchen that I never thought I needed but absolutely love: a salt devil. What the hell is a salt devil? Well, it's this:

What do you do with it? You put salt in the mouth and scoop it out with a spoon when you're cooking. Simple, yet awesome. I use it every single day. Plus it looks supercool on my counter. I love mine so much I've taken to giving them as wedding presents. No one else will get the bride one of these, I promise you! Plus they are lovingly made by hand by two of my favorite people on this earth. Two artists you'd most certainly want to support if you met them in person.

Now through January 10th, Flinn Family Pottery, makers of salt devils and other fine ceramic wares, will give 10% off to anyone who knows me, on the Internets or in real life! Just use coupon code ALANASENTME at checkout.

And don't expect this "Things I Love" gimmick to become a regular thing. I don't do that.

The End.

2011-12-25T00:04:00.000-10:00

Merry Christmas!

2011-12-23T08:52:00.000-10:00

Mixtape

Every year for Xander's birthday, I make him a mixtape. Well, okay, it's not a mixtape. It's a playlist. For his iPod. Because it's 2011, and we don't even own a tape player. One of Xander's greatest fears is that he'll get old and not know what music is popular anymore, and his children will make fun of him. I mean, they will make fun of him anyway, but I guess he'd like it to be for reasons other than not knowing who The Decemberists are. The Decemberists? Damn. That's Old People Music, isn't it? We're screwed.

(Side note: Remind me to tell you the story of the Adele conundrum.)

(More side note: Xander, if Adele shows up on your playlist, it doesn't mean anything. I swear.)

I can never make a playlist without thinking of the movie High Fidelity, which was apparently also a book. A book? But who played John Cusack in the book? Anyway, there are rules to making a mixtape:

To me, making a tape is like writing a letter — there's a lot of erasing and rethinking and starting again. A good compilation tape, like breaking up, is hard to do. You've got to kick off with a corker, to hold the attention (I started with "Got to Get You Off My Mind", but then realized that she might not get any further than track one, side one if I delivered what she wanted straightaway, so I buried it in the middle of side two), and then you've got to up it a notch, or cool it a notch, and you can't have white music and black music together, unless the white music sounds like black music, and you can't have two tracks by the same artist side by side, unless you've done the whole thing in pairs and...oh, there are loads of rules.

I gotta admit that I actually find myself following some of these rules. Although you can totally have white music and black music together now thanks to Eminem. Oh right. And also thanks to the fact that white people have been listening to and ripping off black music since they dragged Africans across oceans without any of their belongings and left them with little to do except work and, well, sing. The only real rule I follow, though, is that every song on the playlist has to have been released in some form that year, and the songs have to be reasonably representative of popular music.

What I love about this annual mixtape ritual is that it causes me to really take some time to think about my husband and who he is. Sometimes the playlist I make caters to his tastes. Other times I deliberately throw in stuff that I know he wouldn't buy for himself. It's a really fulfilling gift on all sides, especially since I then get to enjoy all of the new music I buy for him.

Anyway, Xander was feeling a bit stressed and annoyed from end-of-the-semester exam grading, so I gave him his mixtape--er, playlist--early. I have to say, I'm really proud of it. I think it's one of the best playlists I've made, yet, which came as a surprise because when I initially started putting it together I was skeptical that I would find enough worthy popular songs to fill it. (I mean, I'm sorry, but I'm so over Beyonce and Britney this year.) The next question was whether or not I'd be able to combine so many different songs into a smooth-flowing playlist, but I think I did it! So without further ado, here is the 2011 Birthday Mix lineup:

Rolling in the Deep, Adele
Born This Way, Lady GaGa
What I Do, Chris Webby
E.T., Katy Perry
Make Some Noise, Beastie Boys
Hustle Hard, Ace Hood
New Direction, Black Lips
Up Up Up, Givers
Bad As Me, Tom Waits
Stone Rollin', Raphael Saadiq
Down By the Water, The Decemberists
Shake Me Down, Cage the Elephant
Lonely Boy, The Black Keys
Someone Like You, Adele
Second Chance, Peter Bjorn and John
Little Talks, Of Monsters & Men
Konami, Apparat Organ Quartet
Pumped Up Kicks, Foster the People
Ladder Song, Bright Eyes
Good Feeling, Flo Rida
In Your Eyes, Peter Gabriel

What about you guys? Favorite songs from 2011?

2011-12-21T12:37:00.001-10:00

New Things

Speaking of new links, a few days ago I Googled "preschooler behaving like an asshole" and came across this blog. I don't like the title, but the blog posts are pretty damn funny.

And no, I didn't search "preschooler behaving like an asshole" for any particular reason. The phrase just popped into my head, suddenly, for no reason at all. What? You never Google random phrases just to see what you'll find?

2011-12-19T07:43:00.000-10:00

Happy Birthday, Everybody!

One of the things I'm going to miss most when the kids get older is my daughter using the phrase "happy birthday" like a compliment. When she's feeling particularly cheerful and loving, she'll look at me and very sincerely say, "Happy birthday, Mama." And I'll say, "Happy birthday, Sistergirl." And we both know that what we really mean is, "I love you."

2011-12-15T08:51:00.000-10:00

Roll Call

Hey, folks. I figured if I'm going to be back here again, I should probably update some things...like the links that I haven't updated in about five years. Who's still here? Say hello and post a link to your blog, Etsy shop, or anything else you like, and maybe I'll put it over there for everyone else to see. Bonus points for the best Rick Roll.

Apologies to all of my Internetland buddies that I've been neglecting, by the way. I'm sorry. I've been busy. Really, really, really busy.

2011-12-13T10:18:00.005-10:00

Insecurities: An Update

Clearly I do have some insecurities. Last night, I dreamed that Xander left me for Zooey Deschanel.* I woke up from this nightmare, thankfully, but then proceeded to fall asleep again and dream that I dropped a bag of eggs and broke them all. Gosh, do you think I might be worried about my ticking biological clock? What does it all mean? It's just so hard to read dreams like these...

*My subconscious's choice of seductress was clearly prompted by a recent discussion about She & Him's version of The Date Rape Song.

2011-12-12T08:30:00.000-10:00

Big Butts

Well, I must be feeling super contemplative right now. I went over to cuz' Brie's blog a few days ago, and she's got this funny bit up about how she's feeling post-pregnancy. And after I finished chuckling, because I can totally hear her saying all that stuff in my head, I started thinking about self esteem and women and big butts and all the associated stuff. So I posted this comment:

Do you think being open about physical insecurities helps our self-image? Or do you think it hurts? On one hand, I think maybe it makes other women feel better to hear that they aren’t the only ones who have insecurities. But then I wonder if hearing other women worry prompts further scrutinizing of ourselves and others? I remember my mother used to talk very openly about how she felt old or had wrinkles or had gained weight in her thighs, and I remember being insanely obsessed about these things while I lived at home. I’m not [lacking confidence] now, but I wonder if I would have been more confident if she had displayed more confidence? (Just to be clear, this is not a comparison to Brie, who is awesome and a fantastic mom.) I’m also thinking of a work party I went to where a woman walked into the bathroom and said to me, “Don’t you just feel like a fat pig sometimes?” And the truth was no, I didn’t. But I felt very aware of the fact that female culture dictated that I was then supposed to say something like, “Yeah, my ass is huge!” Do you think this is a culture we create? Or do you think it just IS no matter what we say and do?

(Just for clarification, my mom is a wonderful person, and I don't at all blame her for how she was feeling back then. I just think she was subject to all of the insecurities that women are subject to, especially when they become mothers themselves.)

A few weeks ago, I went to this hippy-dippy pole dancing class at a studio here as part of my exploration of all things circus, and it turned out to be very stripper-ish in the name of improving women's self-image. I shouldn't have been surprised, since the studio is called "Fit for a Goddess." The class was actually kinda fun, but I wasn't expecting it to be so blatantly geared toward women who are feeling insecure about their bodies. On one hand, it's great that people are aware of this and are looking for ways to counteract negativity. On the other hand, it made me sad that there's a need for this at all. That just the exercise of it and the necessary physical awareness required for any athletic endeavor isn't enough to give women confidence.

So since I'm still thinking about this, and since I know most of you wonderful reader people are ladies--although the menfolk are welcome to chime in--I thought I'd post it here, too. What do you guys think? Does being open about physical insecurities help women? Or does it hurt?

2011-12-05T07:56:00.006-10:00

Yule Tide

It's holiday time in Hawaii. This past weekend, we went downtown to Honolulu Hale for the tree lighting. It was great fun. The atmosphere was a lot like a carnival, complete with kiddie rides and food vendors selling impossibly unhealthy (and delicious) snacks. The Christmas decorations around downtown are fantastically tacky. We'll have photos at a later date, but for now I will just say that I've never seen anything like it. It's wonderful.

In other news, a Hawaii broadcaster just announced the Obama family's plans for their Hawaii vacation. Yes, they broadcast that here just as soon as they know. And you might think it's frivolous, but when there are only about three or four major highways to get people from point A to point B, knowing the Obamas will be occupying the windward transit routes is valuable information.

Here at Chez Cole-Faber we're all decked out for the holidays, much to the twins' delight. Of course they helped decorate. It was pretty cute watching them agonize over which ornament to put on the tree. "Should it be the heart, the snowman, the bell? The universe hangs in the balance..." Our tree is a small artificial one, which is just perfect in our apartment. And boy are we glad we brought it with us! It turns out real trees, most of which are brought over from the mainland, go for anywhere between $10 and $20 a foot. A foot! A woman told me she paid $40 for one that isn't even three feet tall. No, thank you. I will continue enjoying my plastic tree for free. (Not really free, you say, but if we use it for enough years the price eventually becomes free. So says a mathematician.)

Despite successfully resisting mainland Christmas trees by carefully avoiding places they are sold, I admit that it is really hard not to fall victim to that enticing evergreen scent. While walking through a store to buy soy milk the other day, I got an unexpected whiff of forest. I couldn't even see what was producing it, but I smelled my way down an aisle and landed upon a display of Christmas wreaths fresh off the boat. They smelled wonderful, but I knew buying one would go against my commitment to use only Christmas decorations I already had or that were produced locally using local materials. So what did I do? I bought the wreath! I set aside my morals right then and there and snatched one up, then felt remorseful as soon as I left the store. But it's not my fault. I was ambushed! No one could have survived that! For the record, my entire apartment smells like woodland, so I am no longer sorry.

In my opinion, our apartment is missing just one thing: a roaring fire. I have been trying to talk Xander into getting a yule log DVD instead. Those must exist, right? He says it would be funny for about ten seconds. I think having a fire roaring in your television when company comes to visit in Hawaii is hilarious anytime. Readers? Opinions? I'm right, aren't I?

2011-11-30T08:00:00.001-10:00

Sometimes...

Sometimes I'm tempted to fake a resume to get a job I'm completely unqualified for just to see what that job would be like. You know. Like maybe I could be a crime scene tech for a day. Or a fire equipment mechanic. Or an assistant waterworks controller.

2011-11-26T00:35:00.001-10:00

The Feynman Series: Part I

2011-11-23T02:50:00.001-10:00

The 87s

We never check the weather here. Why? It's always the same. Highs in the mid 80s, mostly sunny, chance of showers. It will rain at least once during the day, and you will see a rainbow...or six. (That's my current record.) Someone told me they refer to the weather forecast on the news as "the 87s," because that's usually what the forecast is for the entire week.

Imagine my horror earlier this week when the day's weather turned out to be 77 and windy, and I'd sent my children to school in short sleeves and short pants. They nearly froze to death! What kind of mother am I?!

2011-11-21T09:21:00.002-10:00

Flattery Will Get You...

Nowhere? Everywhere? How does that saying go? Eh, whatever. Here, flattery will get you more posts from me.

Everything is different. We live in Hawaii now, which is definitely a topic for future exploration. Xander is officially a math prof. He spends his time researching stuff none of us understand, writing (and getting!) grants, teaching students calculus, going to committee meetings, etc. But mostly it's just going to meetings, I think, which makes it pretty much like any other job. Except it's in Hawaii. Hawaii!

I had given up the blog because I have been looking for a job. Hard. For months. But if you live in the US, you know how that story goes. (Still no job.) I worried about the blog impeding my job search, either from taking up too much of my time or for making me look like an idiot. It turns out it doesn't matter if I look like an idiot. There are hardly any jobs to apply for in my field, so why not write to take up all this free time? Now if only someone would pay me for it...

Since we're on the subject, on the off chance you stumbled across my parcel of Internetland because you're reading my job application, you should totally hire me. I am amazing. Okay, I'm just a regular person, really. But I work my ass off. And I'm a good researcher and know lots of people, so even if I don't know how to do something you need me to do, chances are I can find out how with a few keystrokes. Resourceful. That's it. I work hard and I'm resourceful. Also, I brew beer and bake delicious things, and sometimes I give those things to people I work with.

One last thing. Please don't judge me because I like to start sentences with words like "and" and "so" and "but." I won't do it at work. I swear. Unless you need me to, in which case I will start sentences incorrectly better than anyone you've ever met.

2011-11-17T22:12:00.003-10:00

Hello? Is Anyone Still Here?

Blogger tells me I can have "a whole new look." Are they talking about me or just my blog?

Am I back? I dunno. Sometimes I think about it...

2011-07-08T09:51:00.004-10:00

Hey, New People!

Well, I wasn't expecting so many of you on a regular-as-hell day like today, but we're happy to have you all the same. Once again, welcome strangers.

Cheers,

Alana

2011-05-15T05:43:00.004-10:00

Changes. Probably Permanent.

I now have one more follower. Oh, you One More Follower, you! You didn't realize it, but you're just making me feel guilty for not writing more often.

Xander was away for over a week on this last "business" trip. I put that in quotes because this last one was a conference in Barbados, and I think the proper word for such a thing is really "vacation." Who gets to go to a conference in Barbados immediately after getting a job in Hawaii?! I really did pick the wrong major. Anyway, I nearly killed myself while he was gone. You people who raise children by yourselves or are military spouses or who have three or more little ones running around your houses are crazy. If this last single-parent stint taught me anything it's that the number of children should never exceed the number of grown-ups. Having the twins to myself for so many days just about did me in. If you think a two-year-old is too young to know when he/she has the upper hand, you are mistaken. Those toddlers are some clever little people.

Anyway, it's been a crazy spring, and it's about to be followed by a crazy summer. I suspect I will be writing here even less, not more. Knowing this was probably going to be the case, I set up a lazy person's blog awhile back. I like it because the layout looks nice without demanding much in the way of content. I can post a photo or an anecdote or a quote in about 60 seconds. I expect we'll move over there permanently in the near future. But you can check it out in the meantime and let me know what you think.

2011-05-08T13:17:00.003-10:00

My 2nd Mother's Day

This time last year, we were about to leave for Ethiopia. Xander was running a conference in Barbados, and I was still in Montreal, so we both flew to New York to meet up at my cousin Anna's place before the flight over to Addis Ababa. My sweet, sweet cousin threw us a baby shower the day we left. It was Mother's Day, I think. Or the next day was. I can't remember exactly. But what I do remember is that no one wished me a Happy Mother's Day. I was kind of down about it, actually. When I got around to opening Anna & Ben's shower gift to us, I pulled out the card. It was a Mother's Day card. I cried. It turns out my heart is only partly made of stone.

This year, I have two screaming toddlers. They kicked off Mother's Day by taking off their underpants and peeing all over their bedroom floor when I wasn't looking. It was awful. And also? It was kind of great. We worked hard to bring these two little people to the point that they could take off their own pants and willfully pee all over their very own bedroom. When I was done crying because I was so mad--again, not entirely emotionless--I was proud of them. Little fuckers.

2011-05-06T08:52:00.000-10:00

You Gotta Have Standards

When perusing Craigslist for furnished sublets, it is expected that one will come across a variety of stringent demands made by posters. Some limit the number of occupants. Some prefer females. Some prefer students. Some don't want pets. And other posters have...different requirements:

NON SMOKERS ONLY please and NO Patchouli Oil!!!

I mean, couldn't they just come out and say, "No weed, please." I'm surprised they didn't also add "No flannel shirts!" Or "No Marley!" Or "No Birkenstocks!" They know it's 2011, right, and not, say, 1967-1997? Kurt Cobain is dead, y'all.

2011-05-05T02:38:00.004-10:00

My Brother Is So Cool

Some people in this family get to be Internet (and newspaper) famous for doing things that actually matter. Not for having some silly photos taken with a beach ball.

From the AP, via NPR:

Questions, confusion in classrooms over bin Laden

NORCROSS, Ga. (AP) - It was a day of infamy they don't remember.

Sixth-graders in Jacob Cole's social studies class relived the terror of the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks this week in a lesson intended to help them understand what the death of Osama bin Laden means.

2011-05-04T15:40:00.002-10:00

We Knew It Was Coming...

Before:

After:

2011-04-28T01:31:00.006-10:00

Twister

It's impossible to grow up in Georgia and not have at least one, if not two or three or twelve, tornado stories. I remember a few, but 1998 was the worst. The night of the 1998 tornados, I was at college huddled up in my bedroom with my roommate and listening to the raging storm outside. When our blinds got sucked out the window, we ran screaming to the downstairs hallway. A few hours later, this happened to my aunt and cousins. (Graham ended up just fine, by the way.) Anyway, all this means that pretty much no one in my family can sleep at night when there's bad weather. Last night was no exception.

We're all fine, but a lot of people were killed and injured. A lot of people lost their homes. Springtime in the South.

A friend reminded me that I'm moving to the land of tsunamis. But I figure at least with hurricanes and tropical storms and tsunamis, you usually get some warning. When a tornado hits, you're lucky if you even have time to grab your children and run to the basement.

I hate tornado season.

2011-04-27T15:23:00.003-10:00

Heartwarming. To Me, Anyway.

You can read an excerpt over on BoingBoing.

2011-04-25T16:37:00.004-10:00

Easter

Let it be known that no creepy giant bunny crept into our home to deposit eggs this past Sunday. Because I just can't deal with that. Oh no. In this house, at least so far, humans claim full responsibility for Eastertide goodies. So our egg hunt took place at a friend's house. Dinka was thrilled that he was going to a "pah-tee" where he would be allowed to have "tweets." Dinke was so excited that she had to open every single egg she found right away, spilling the contents (dried cranberries, bunny grahams, and a few M&Ms) all over the grass. The weather was wonderful. The food was delicious. The children were adorable. It was just perfect.

2011-04-21T03:37:00.002-10:00

Tell Me Your Stories. No, for Real. I'm Actually Asking for Your Advice.

It's coming. The transition to Big Beds. An Ikea order--hey, just because Xander got a job doesn't mean we suddenly have loads of cash lying around--will be placed shortly, and in it will be a milestone. Holy crap. One of the weird things about adopting toddlers from a developing nation is that you go from baby to big kid really fucking fast. These guys have gone from wearing 3-6 months clothing to wearing 2T and, in Dinka's case, some 3T clothing in less than a year. He's gone from being a tiny little lump of a boy to being tall enough to, well, climb out of his crib. It's been a wild roller coaster of an experience.

I'm not super sentimental, but occasionally I have my moments. A couple of transitions have been a little bit tear-jerking. One was my kids going from diapers to underpants, which of course everyone thought was crazy because ohemgeeyoudonthavetochangediapersohemgee! The second was giving away the slings we carried them in regularly for the first several months home. And this one, the bed thing, is going to be another one. We decided to give them "big beds" for their second birthday. Along with some toys because, hey, we're not assholes. They've taken every other transition so incredibly well that I'm honestly expecting them to mostly be completely thrilled with their new furniture.

But this all merits some practical considerations. Like the fact that they are going to be able to get out of bed whenever they want. Am I going to accidentally punch one of them in the face when I suddenly sense a stranger's presence in our bedroom at 2am? Am I going to need to put a latch on their door to make sure this doesn't happen? Do I put a potty in there so they can go when they need to, knowing full well this is going to mean a few weeks of complete mess as they most certainly will miss or drip or decide to empty the thing themselves? (I know. Gross.) Do I go for bumpers or guard rails? Or should I just handle this like I handle the rest of parenting, stop thinking about it so much and just see what happens?

Tell me, people. Tell me what to do. Because we're about to wander right off the map, and I am a little bit scared.

2011-04-18T15:19:00.004-10:00

Aloha!

I don't have a special day reserved for confessions, so I'll just pick this random Monday to let loose with a secret I've been keeping from you fine folks. Are you ready? No, you're not. It's THAT awesome.

THE PUBLIC HOUSE IS MOVING...

Wait. That's not the awesome part. Here's the awesome part:

TO HAWAII.

Yep. Forever. Er, or indefinitely anyway. It turns out if you work really hard at math you can get a tenure-track job in a pretty unbelievable location. Study hard, little dudes. Study hard.

2011-04-09T09:11:00.001-10:00

Getting Ready for an International Street Fest

2011-04-05T03:22:00.000-10:00

Long, Slow Decline

This blog, as you may have noticed, is on a long, slow decline. It's funny. My readership is up. I have more followers. There was that whole controversial internet famous period not that long ago. If I wanted to officially be named a "mommy blogger," now would be the time to go for it. To get some ads up and start writing witty posts that involve lots of toilet humor and references to sex. Or to pretend to be one of those ladies who can't find time to shower anymore now that I have kids, because that seems to be a popular theme. (Tip: Shower at night!) But it's just not in me. I think I'm running out of things to say. Or at least things that I want to say in public.

I'm finding that I feel really uncomfortable writing much about the twins now that they are getting older and becoming more vocal themselves. It's just so impossible to know what they or I might feel ashamed by later on. Though I occasionally write posts about things other than adoption and parenting, very often I am unable to finish them. I don't have the time to do the research needed, or I lose steam before I'm able to make a point.

What to do? While I understand the reasoning, I always hate it when people suddenly make their blogs password protected. It's like you've been going over to someone's house every day for years, and all of a sudden they refuse to open the door, and it always kind of hurts my feelings. Plus any useful tidbits of information regarding adoption are immediately locked away from people who might need them. So I don't want to do that. I don't want to use password protection as an excuse to go ranting about things that are probably not suitable for any kind of public consumption, password-protected or not. And honestly? There's not much controversy to write about over here. Things are going pretty well. Nope. I think if anything I'll just stop writing. I mean, I'll probably never really stop writing. But I may stop writing here. We'll see.

Of course, that may mean losing touch with a whole bunch of nice people that I've really come to enjoy and care about. This makes me sad.

Anyway, I'm not gone just yet. But I am contemplating the future of the Public House and trying to figure out what it looks like. I'm not sure...

2011-04-04T03:40:00.000-10:00

2011-03-27T03:07:00.003-10:00

Nostalgia

I am somewhat ashamed to admit that I'm not normally "a poetry person." I appreciate that it exists. I have enormous respect for the people who write it. I want to like it. But most of the time I find my mind wandering off in some direction other than the one intended--well, that's true in most situations--and I just miss the point. And it's not like I miss the point and get some other wonderful thing out of it instead. No. I just flat out miss the poem's point or any point that might be loosely related to the poem. I'm not too hard on myself about this, since I read a lot and appreciate many other forms of expression. I love the classics. I read most of the stuff I'm "supposed" to read. But poetry is just not my thing.

Anyway, very occasionally I hear a poem I just love and could listen to over and over and over. This is one of them.

2011-03-25T01:15:00.000-10:00

Shhhhh!

If you have ever lived in an apartment, you will appreciate this post. If you've never lived in an apartment, take it as a good description of the kind of trauma one can experience in communal living situations. I completely identify with Jejune's conditioned behavior. Because even after a year of not living in an apartment, I still catch myself freaking out for a just a moment when one of the twins goes stomping through the living room. Shhhhh! The neighbors!

2011-03-23T02:50:00.000-10:00

One Year Ago

A year ago today, we finally, legally, and completely became parents to the Fabertids. I remember it was a warm (relative term) and snowy day in Montreal, which meant giant wet flakes and loads of cold slush at our feet. I went to spend the day with my friend Robin and her newborn baby, because Xander was at work and I just couldn't handle being by myself after all the hitches and delays we'd experienced. I was a nervous wreck. Then the phone rang--Robin's phone, I think, because we only had one cell phone and Xander had it that day--and Xander said, "It's done." And I'm pretty sure I burst into tears. And Robin gave me a big hug. And everything after that was just details.

2011-03-19T02:45:00.000-10:00

The Most Wonderful Cat Video in the History of Ever

I completely stole this video from a friend. I'm sorry. I know I should get my own content. But? So worth the judgment. It is awesome.

2011-03-18T03:57:00.003-10:00

The Horror

This morning, I stumbled out into the living room and noticed someone had dragged our lambswool rug across the room. This made me nervous, because the only reason to do this would be to cover up something horrible. I braced myself and pulled back the rug, expecting to find a hairball or some stray litter box pellets. What I saw was even more gruesome than I could have imagined.

Cookie Monster was murdered during the night. The forensics team has yet to arrive, but our prime suspect is a furry black female, approximately 11 inches tall with yellow eyes. Please call feline crime stoppers if you have any information that might lead to an arrest.

2011-03-13T07:37:00.004-10:00

The Littlest Circus Performer

Sistergirl's got mad trapeze skillz. She's not even two and can do a knee hang. And you should see her hoop dance! She didn't even need a demonstration. She picked up those hoops and immediately got busy twirling. Mama is proud.

2011-03-12T12:34:00.002-10:00

I'm Batman

I don't think this counts as my big wonderful thing I do for the world this year, but I'm proud of it:

2011-03-08T09:25:00.004-10:00

What Great Thing Will You Do This Year?

Friend Michelle sent me this article today by musician Thao Nguyen. Nguyen said several good things, among them, "Women are the world’s greatest hope to eradicate the most despicable failures of government and society... Please let us try this year to stretch our sympathy, camaraderie and compassion into action."

This leaves me wondering what I am going to do this year for the greater good. You?

2011-03-06T18:51:00.004-10:00

Photographic Evidence

So there's proof that I really do have a new creative outlet. Well, blurry proof, but still.

And here's Sistergirl, getting her first taste of the trapeze:

2011-03-03T16:23:00.005-10:00

Taking It All for Granted, Happily

I had a really bad day with the kids today. I mean really bad. As in called Dada and told him I wasn't going to rescue them from their cribs again until he got home, because I was pretty sure all I'd do is yell at them. And a lot of good that does anybody. My kids are usually really good--hell, we took them to a wine tasting last weekend--so when they are bad it totally throws me off. It's like very occasionally their little bodies become possessed by demons, and it's not really them anymore. Oy. Vey. Some days bedtime cannot possibly be early enough.

Then, after they're asleep, I start to think about how much we wanted them and how afraid we were that they wouldn't be ours and how wonderful it felt when they finally were. And I feel really grateful that I'm so comfortable with them in my life that I can get mad at them and send them to their rooms just like any frustrated parent does. And that it all feels so natural. I feel lucky to be able to take them for granted, if that makes any sense. And THAT is the thing that I think most people who haven't adopted don't totally get. That your kids are so your kids, no matter how they came into your family, that you do end up taking them completely for granted and wanting them to just for the love of God shut up for two seconds and listen to the words that are coming out of your mouth! I don't spend every waking moment thinking, "Oh! But those poooor baaaaabies! They've been through so much!" No sir. Instead I think things like, "You'd better stop yapping and eat your peas or you are gonna find yourself in some trouble, child."

We are such lucky people to have each other to annoy. Really.

2011-03-02T04:46:00.002-10:00

Some Photos From the Weekend

We just spent a wonderful weekend up in the mountainy bits of Georgia with my brother and sister-in-law. It was sunny. There was wine. The kids were good. The company was delightful. You can fill in the gaps. (All photos courtesy of Uncle Aron and Aunt Tori.)

2011-02-28T18:08:00.003-10:00

At the Vineyard, Letting the Wine Do the Talking

photo courtesy of Uncle Aron and Aunt Tori

2011-02-24T16:09:00.003-10:00

It's Cookie Time!

You know what? I don't care about the Girl Scouts one bit. I'm sure they probably do some good things for their communities and make girls feel special and all that. Or maybe they're just another club for people to join so other girls can feel excluded. No idea. But what I do care about are samoas. Delicious, coconuty, caramely samoas. I want some. Yet not being much of a joiner or a chatty friendly person, I don't know any Girl Scouts.

Guess what. Guesswhatguesswhatguesswhatguesswhat!

It doesn't matter. Thanks to the miracle of the Internet, I can make the Girl Scouts come to me! All you have to do is go here, enter your zip code, then submit an email address and THEY will contact YOU and bring delicious cookies to your door. Squeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Technology. It is a beautiful thing.

2011-02-23T14:54:00.003-10:00

Yeah!

I'm sure, as usual, I'm one of the last folks in Internetland to see this.

On another note, I'm sorry for the lack of actual writing on here of late. I've seen it happen to so many other people, but...well, I just don't know what to say these days. I'll write more on not writing anything about anything soon, and maybe that will count as writing something about something.

2011-02-21T11:21:00.003-10:00

I Am Pro-Musket

I like how the argument about gun control, which I think is largely fueled by silly crap politicians and some folks from the NRA say, has a bunch of outraged people shouting about their right to defend their homes and go hunting, when those of us who want slightly stricter laws and more education on gun safety don't actually give a damn about the rifles our reasonable friends have locked away in their offices or wherever. Grooooaaaaaan.

I also find the use of the second amendment and references to "our forefathers" in arguments about gun laws to be simultaneously amusing and annoying, mostly for the reasons outlined here:

If asked, I think my official stance on gun control is that I am pro-musket.

2011-02-16T05:09:00.003-10:00

Real (Funny) Conversations: Retro Kid Edition

Xander: What does the cow say?

Dinkees: Mmmmmmm

Xander: What does the dog say?

Dinkees: Woof! Woof!

Xander: What does the duck say?

Dinkees: Quack! Quack!

Xander: What does Keanu Reeves say?

Dinka: Whooooooaaaaa.

2011-02-14T16:23:00.001-10:00

Sunny and 60

2011-02-12T17:18:00.003-10:00

Revolution

I don't know about the rest of you folks, but I have found the revolution in Egypt to be rather inspiring. I mean, not that I think we should take to the streets here in America. I'm not one of those people. But I just saw so much beauty in some of the events in Cairo over the last several days. Many of them were captured on camera, and you can see them here.

2011-02-09T03:30:00.000-10:00

A Public Service Announcement

I just learned the most wonderful bit of news. Every single episode of The Cosby Show is available for live streaming from Netflix. Every. Single. One. I learned this on the very same day that the grains and hops arrived for my upcoming smoked porter. It was a lovely day.

And if you didn't like The Cosby Show, please don't bother telling me about it. I won't understand.

2011-02-07T02:54:00.000-10:00

Thank You Oooooo!

You've seen this video, right?

Well, the kids love the song, and it was on the other day and Dinka started signing "thank you" every time Cee Lo said "fuck you." It was HI-larious.

I see you driving 'round town
With the girl i love and i'm like,
Thank you!
...Ooo, ooo, ooo
I guess the change in my pocket
Wasn't enough i'm like,
Thank you!
And thank her too!

I'm hoping at some point we'll have some video excellence to share with you.

2011-02-03T02:23:00.002-10:00

A Modest Wish

Dear Universe,

Don't you just hate "Dear Universe" letters? I do. But I still write them, because as someone once told me there are a lot of people making wishes in this world. What's the harm in putting mine out there, too? So here it goes.

Please please please please send my most excellent husband a job. As adventurous as I am, I would really like to move somewhere and be able to stick around for awhile. I'd like a place to hang my hat, as they say. It would be so amazing to be able to do things like, I dunno, paint a room whatever color we please. To find a school for our kids and know they would be able to stay in it for awhile. To be able to make friends and know we won't be leaving them in a year or two. Or to look for a permanent position myself. Did I mention how much I miss working? I daydream about Xander finding a job in part because it means I know where to start looking for mine.

Don't get me wrong. We have enjoyed our adventures as students, grad students, and post docs. The world is big and wonderful, and I do enjoy exploring it. But I would love to have a place to call home. To have an answer to the question, "Where are you from?" That would be really nice.

Thanks for considering my wish.

Alana

2011-02-02T03:27:00.001-10:00

Cloth Diapers to Trainers: Part IV

Holy cow! Both of my kids are now wearing trainers. Still with the exception of nap time and bedtime, but I don't care. That's A LOT fewer diapers for those of you keeping tabs. Dinka took about a month to really get going well. Dinke just watched and learned, and a few days ago just started going dry all day. Just like that. We didn't have to let her run around naked or anything. We did, however, break out the big guns: THE M&M. It was the little push Dinka needed to finally commit, and for Dinke it was the thing that convinced her going dry was worth her time. These kids had never even tasted juice before, so you can imagine what their reaction was when I put M&Ms in their mouths the first time. I gave them each one and said, "Do you want more?" They both exclaimed, "Yeah!" and signed "more." I naturally responded, "Fine. Put your pees and poops in the potty, and you can have more." That was it. My conscience suffered for all of five minutes until I saw the results. Holyfuckingshit. Put your no candy rules aside, people! Do it. Do it. Do it.

Now, I would never with any seriousness say that what we did would work for everyone or that you should toilet train a certain way, but I did make some observations along the way that I think might be useful to some people. When we were getting started, I was fortunate enough to have a good friend who was willing to share her tips, and so I guess I'm paying it forward by sharing mine. Things you should know include that this all started about a month ago, right as the twins turned 18 months, that we first started telling them about the potty around 15 months--although we never asked them to use it--and that I am a stay-at-home mother. I think if your child/children is/are in daycare, you'll want to talk to someone who has potty trained a child in daycare, because my understanding is that it may require some different strategies. From the few times we had a babysitter during this process, I can say that caregivers are generally not as dedicated to the task as the parent is.

- Potty training early or late doesn't mean your kid is smarter or dumber than any other kid. They all develop different skills at different times. That said, I think as the parent you do get to choose which skills to foster. Our kids can't use forks, but they showed an aptitude for the toilet, so we decided to focus on that. Later on, maybe we'll focus on the fork thing.

- I think it's important to identify your goals before you begin potty training a child of any age. Even if you think you don't have any expectations, you probably do. For me, the goal was to get Dinka (and then Dinke) out of diapers during waking hours. I was even fine with him wearing diapers when we went out, although after a couple of weeks we didn't even have to do that anymore. A simple reduction in the number of diapers used was fine with me. It was a modest goal, and we achieved it. I don't care if it takes months before the kids are dry during nap or years before they are dry overnight. I've already gotten what I wanted out of this endeavor. The rest will come when it comes.

- In our experience, potty training an 18-month-old was not really that difficult, despite the fact that I bitched about it a lot to friends and family. The hard part--the rushing to the toilet every 20 minutes--only lasted about a week or so. And with Dinke we pretty much never had to go through that, because that kid can hold a barrel of pee for hours. It sucked while we were doing it, but in the grand scheme of things it was a small sacrifice for a big pay off. After the first several days you will want to quit, but try to stick it out.

- We started off by letting Dinka go without any clothing on the bottom half for the first three days. Even though it was a little stressful, we're glad we did it. He got immediate feedback about what was going on in that department, and we knew exactly when he peed, which helped us catch on to his cues that he needed to go. Sometimes he'd ask for the potty, but sometimes he wouldn't want to stop what he was doing, so it helped us to know his signals.

- Remember that your child is learning a new skill. If you are training a baby or young toddler who is not accustomed to "holding it," the process will include strengthening muscles they haven't really used before. Whatever the kid's age, they're learning something new and having to build muscle, and that can take time. There will be accidents until they start to get better control. Think of it like you would beginning a new athletic endeavor. You need conditioning and practice, right? With that in mind, our kids are never punished for accidents. The most we do is say something like, "You put your pees/poops in your pants. Next time, you need to put them in the potty. Let's clean up." You want them to know what your expectations are, but there's no sense in making a little kid feel bad about not being perfect at a new skill.

- If you can make your own training pants, great. If you've got some money to spend, check out the QTBunns trainers. They've gotten fantastic ratings from Diaper Pin. A cheaper option, though, is to buy several pairs of Gerber training pants and a couple of plastic covers. Put one pair of cotton training pants inside another pair and stitch them together in a few places along the waist and leg bands. This will hold a decent amount of pee, and you can put on the plastic cover when you go out for extra protection. Those first few days, you'll need a lot of training pants. Like maybe 4 or 5 or even more each day. Eventually you will only need one or two pairs.

- When we go out to places that have toilets, like restaurants, we take the twins' little potty seat. We wrap it in a plastic bag and put that inside a cloth shopping bag along with back-up diapering supplies. When we go to the park, provided it's not freezing out, we take one of our little plastic potties and a cloth diaper. We put the cloth diaper in the potty and let them go in that. Then we wash the diaper with the rest when we get home. If you want something disposable, you could use small G-diaper inserts, which are actually flushable and biodegradable. In our case, we just didn't like the idea of putting them in diapers for going out. It seemed confusing, and once they're in training pants they can be really reluctant to go back into a diaper.

- Do what you want, but we taught our boy to pee sitting down. I have seen what happens when you start out standing up, and I wanted no part of that. Let me just point out that, sometimes, children cannot distinguish between their urge to pee and poop. I'll leave it at that.

- We used rewards in the form of song and animal crackers at first, and then moved on to the M&M. Xander made up a ridiculous song that we sing every time there's a success and each kid got two animal crackers to celebrate. Some kids do better with stickers. Honestly, the song probably would have worked on its own because our kids loved it, but the M&Ms were stronger motivation. We could leave containers of them lying around to remind the kids to hold it and/or ask for the potty. We're still using M&Ms, but I suspect eventually we won't need to. You know your kid. Pick whatever you think might motivate them.

- As I mentioned before, people can be really judgmental about what they perceive as "early" toilet training. But chances are you are not alone. Look around before you start and see if you can find some open-minded people to support you. One of the most annoying parts of this process was having to put up with other people's negativity. Just remind yourself that you are the parent, and you get to decide what you think is best for your family. If someone else is going on to you about how potty training before the age of three will fuck up your kid, chances are they're just jealous because their kid didn't train until he/she was thirteen or something.

- Remember that urine is sterile as long as you clean it up right away and don't let it grow bacteria. A little pee never hurt anyone.

- Last but not least, I found this article to be helpful.

And that's all I have to say about potty training! Good luck!

2011-02-01T04:31:00.002-10:00

Flinn Family Pottery

Need something awesome for your kitchen? Or looking for a wedding gift? Or just have a wicked sense of humor? Check out this site. I love these guys. And their pottery ain't bad, either.

2011-01-26T17:28:00.002-10:00

I Think I May Have Tucked My Dress Into My Stockings

My husband is, as they say, "on the market" this year. That is to say he's applying for "real jobs." (And that is my quote limit for the day.) He's applied all over, but there are a couple of places we would really, really like to go. I can't tell you where for fear of fucking up his chances, but they're cool places. Or we think they're cool places, anyway, and isn't that what really matters?

So one of the weird side effects of this is that I'm now getting hits through Xander's website and from people Googling him. While this makes perfect sense, it also makes me feel a little uncomfortable. Like I'm being examined, too. And what if I've tucked my dress into my stockings and now everyone can see my underwear? This could be really embarrassing. Which makes me want to say the following:

Hey, guys! Welcome! Xander is really great, and if you haven't met him you should make arrangements to do so. Yes, he's smart and he's published a bunch of papers and organized seminars and conferences and has a great teaching record, but he's also pleasant to be around. He's funny and kind and thoughtful and good at getting shit done. He's also really nice to have around at potentially awkward math functions, as he can make conversation with pretty much anyone and often does. Please try not to judge him based on the quality of his puns, which range from clever to really, really horrible. But more importantly, please don't judge him based on the rubbish you find on here. Xander is much cooler than this blog. Sadly, this is no Quomodocumque. Or xkcd. Oh, but how I wish I could be xkcd! But I do bake and brew beer, and I'll invite you over for such things if you hire my husband who, as I've mentioned, is awesome.

Whew. I feel better. Now that's out of the way, I can continue regaling you with tales of potty training and beer brewing and hairballs and whether or not I might be a hipster. Stay tuned...

2011-01-26T10:08:00.000-10:00

You're Welcome

2011-01-25T13:15:00.006-10:00

Bread and Ale

I started my first batch of beer yesterday. It's a blood orange ale. I was surprised to discover the process was pretty easy. It was mostly cooking. Here's my wort:

And then, I used this recipe and my spent grain to make this deliciousness:

It was a bizarrely productive couple of days that also involved sewing a dress from re-purposed fabrics and rigging a trapeze on my back porch. I feel sort of medieval. But in a good way. Bread, beer, new clothes, and old-school circus apparatus do wonders for my soul.

2011-01-22T17:02:00.000-10:00

This Week...

I start learning how to do this:

I'm crazy excited. It turns out I'm not too old to join the circus after all!

2011-01-18T13:20:00.004-10:00

Burnout

It happened. I have the stay-at-home-mother burnout. My kids are totally amazing and as well-behaved as toddlers could possibly be. It's not their fault. It's just that I get tired of doing and saying the same things every single day. I miss my old job. At least that came with a little more variety. And there were nice benefits like, you know, a paycheck and the occasional mid-day outing to acquire falafel sandwiches. A good falafel sandwich goes a long way.

How does one cure burnout? I mean, the obvious answers are "nanny" or "daycare." But let's just say the mother in question has no money with which to pay such people. Then what?

Maybe the question I should be asking is exactly how long I can stretch out nap time before the Fabertids stage a coup?

2011-01-14T08:26:00.000-10:00

Cloth Diapers to Trainers: Part III

Before we started the official potty training push, Dinka was asking for the toilet regularly on his own. When we started training, he stopped asking so much, probably because we were constantly hounding him with obnoxious questions like, "Do you need the potty? Do you have pee feeling?" Pee feeling. Yeah. We're ridiculous like that. So we would put him on the toilet or his little potty about every thirty minutes. Then we moved up to an hour. After about a week, we started to get a better handle on when he'd need to go. He wouldn't necessarily stop what he was doing to ask, but if you asked him if he needed to go and he did, he would often run to his potty. Sometimes I would be so sure he needed to go and insist that he sit on the toilet, but I was almost always wrong. If he needed to go, he'd acknowledge it. If he didn't, he didn't. I started trusting him more and letting him off the hook when he didn't seem interested. Since he had started this whole thing by asking for the toilet on a regular basis, we knew he could and would, eventually, start asking for the toilet again on his own. Sure enough, after about ten days, he started asking for the toilet again. Most of the time. Unless he was doing something REALLY important like playing with blocks or riding his rocking horse. I mean, some things are just worth wet pants, ya know?

One difficulty regarding potty training at this age has been in the communication area. Dinka signs "potty," and sometimes says, "Pah," when he needs to go. And he also signs "potty" when someone says "potty." Or when someone else in the family is using the toilet. Or when he sees the potty and simply wants to comment on its existence. So we're working on getting him to be more specific about when he actually needs the toilet versus when he just wants to talk about the toilet. This is one of those things that is mostly just going to get better with time.

Even with all the success, he still can't stay dry through a three-hour-nap or overnight, so we use diapers then. Sometimes he'll stay dry when we're out, but sometimes not if we're out for a long time. This was the primary reason I wanted better training pants. Something absorbent and waterproof that could be pulled up and down easily. Something that if he had a major pee fest while we were out, it wouldn't cause a potentially upsetting clothes-changing scene in a restaurant or park. We want this experience to be positive for him, and he's too young to bear much responsibility for accidents at this point. I experimented with sewing extra padding into Gerber training pants, but it weighed them down in such a funny way that they didn't fit quite right. I found these online, but to buy enough for twins would cost more than we can spend, so I decided to make my own trainers. I looked at a bunch of patterns and decided I liked the Tinkle Time Trainer, the one I mentioned before, best. (Horrible name, decent pattern.) The pattern is really for perfectionist sewists who have plenty of time on their hands. I am not a perfectionist, nor do I have a lot of time, so after making one pair their way, I struck out on my own and did it my way. Theirs is better quality. Mine is faster. I figure the kid is just going to piss all over my handiwork anyway, so why spend a lot of time on this? They work great, though. They're absorbent, mostly waterproof, and because they were made with re-purposed fabrics from around the house, they were free. And they look pretty damn cute with a pair of leg warmers.

One of the best parts of toilet training, aside from the enormous reduction in diaper laundry, is that Dinka is so proud of himself. If we're talking about the people we know who use the toilet (Mama, Daddy, Aunt So-and-So, etc.), Dinka proudly pats his chest and nods his head to say, "And Dinka! Dinka uses the potty!" When he's on the toilet and starts to pee, he grins and squeals and points downward. I think it makes him feel really good about himself, even though he's a little too young to grasp the concept of growing up or being a "big boy." Dinke is also really supportive and will throw both hands in the air and shout, "Yay!" every time her brother succeeds in his bathroom endeavors. It's wonderful, really. And a lot of work. We're about 90 percent there, I'd say, but I suspect this last 10 percent is going to take some time.

Moreover, you know Sistergirl wasn't going to let her brother get all the attention for long. She only gave him a couple weeks' head start before jumping on this bandwagon. Which means that much to my dismay, even though we tried really hard to only train one at a time, we are now potty training twins. So if you need us this weekend, you'll most likely find us in the bathroom. This is one of those times when having twins is really and truly twice the work.

2011-01-12T04:30:00.003-10:00

Real (Scientific) Conversations

Alana: I have trouble understanding phrases like "300,000 light-years long."

Xander: "Huge as fuck" is a synonym.

2011-01-11T04:54:00.004-10:00

More Snow?

When we were packing for our move to Georgia, I put my snow boots, my down coat, and most of my sweaters in a big box that I labeled "moth food." I'm not sure where that box is, but this is what the last couple of days have looked like around here:

2011-01-09T05:22:00.003-10:00

Love/Hate

I hate it when my kids scream my name, "MAAAAAHHHH MAAAAAAHHHHH!" But I love that I can say to them, "Guys, that's not very nice. Say it nicely," and they reply in sweet, soft little voices, "Mum mum." Like most toddler habits, I'm sure this one will be forgotten by next week. I'm kind of going to miss it.

2011-01-07T04:08:00.000-10:00

Cloth Diapers to Trainers: Part II

In our last installment, I was talking about Dinka's decision to start using the toilet. He started asking for and using the toilet back in mid-December, and we just sort of halfheartedly went with it for a couple of weeks before we made an effort to really potty train him. We'd put him on the toilet when he asked, but only if it was convenient for us. When we officially started potty training, we decided to copy a good friend of ours and let him go pantsless for a few days. We did this for about four days, putting him back in a diaper or training pants for naptime, dinner, and bedtime. We put him on the toilet about every half hour at first and then every hour on the following days. The first day he had about half a dozen accidents. The second, the third, and fourth days he had only one each day, and every time it was while he was wearing training pants.

Let us pause to reflect on how opinionated people are about toilet training. Ohmifuckinggod but people obsess over this stuff. There are the people who think anyone who potty trains past the age of six months is a careless idiot, and then there are the people who think potty training before the age of three years is inhumane and akin to child abuse. We decided if anyone gets snarky, we're going to tell them we alternated between electroshock and sticking him with pins and that it all worked beautifully. I think all this nonsense comes from that weird parent competitiveness thing. For whatever reason, someone who does things differently is seen as a challenge. Whatever, dude. I say do what you want to do. If you want to put it off as long as possible, do it. If you want to go the elimination communication route with your three-month-old, do it. It's all a matter of preference, and like most parenting choices, you can find "research" to back up whatever your position is. There's no right way, and anyone who insists that there is is probably (at least kind of) an asshole.

Back to the story. So the no-pants thing went great. I highly recommend it, because it not only gives the kid immediate feedback about what's going on down there, but it also helps the parent become more aware of the kid's cues. The problem for me came when it was time to stop the pants-free stuff. He was clearly getting the hang of the toilet business, so what next? Training pants? Would he understand the difference between training pants and a diaper? (The answer is no, he did not.) The training pants are pretty thin and don't hold much more than a little dribble, which is fine for at home but what about when we want to go out? Leaving him in diapers was a less-than-ideal solution because they're hard to get off quickly, and I wanted something cloth that could be pulled up and down while still containing a sizable accident. It would be foolish not to think Dinka's going to pee his pants about a million times over the next several months. I mean, maybe he won't, but it could take awhile.

So what to do? You wanna know, don't you? Aren't you just dying of curiosity? Okay, well, can you pretend to be dying of curiosity so I can keep believing you like me? (Please like me.) Right now I have to go release the twins from playtime, but here's a teaser.

2011-01-06T04:03:00.000-10:00

Like Pretty Much Everyone Else...

I'm obsessed with Andy Samberg. I wish he could be my cool little brother that I got to hang out with at the holidays. Me and him and my other brothers could sneak off to the other room with a secret bottle of whiskey and tell inappropriate jokes. It would be so awesome.

The end.

2011-01-05T03:41:00.004-10:00

Sam: He's a Dog, He's a Dog, He's a Dog

We have a house guest. His name is Sam, and he's a seven-year-old basset hound. He has to be the most sheepish, non-aggressive, laid back dog ever. I'm pretty sure the only thought in his head as he trots around our house on those short stubby legs is, "Ima dog Ima dog Ima dog." Followed occasionally by, "You think she'll pet me? I hope she pets me. If it's not too much trouble, maybe she'll pet me." His former owners are moving overseas to study and will be living in a dorm, and the people who were supposed to adopt Sam backed out at the last minute. Anyway, for a quite long list of reasons, we cannot keep him permanently. Some dear friends of mine are going to foster him until we can find a permanent home. Soooo...if you live pretty much anywhere in the Southeast or mid-Atlantic and might have room in your house and heart for a sweet, sweet dog, please email me. We deliver.

2011-01-03T05:23:00.006-10:00

Cloth Diapers to Trainers: Part I

I'd written a post awhile back about cloth diapering. For those of you who are new here, I'm not one of those women who thinks everyone should cloth diaper and that people who don't hate the earth. I mean, some people who don't cloth diaper really do hate the earth, but there are other indicators present besides the use of disposable diapers. We chose cloth mainly because we're not loaded and needed to save money, and the whole thing about them being better for the environment was the secondary factor. We live in a place with plenty of water (for the moment), so cloth seemed like a good choice. Anyway, even though I don't care what diapers other people use, I do think there's an irrational fear of cloth diapering, and my view is that it's not nearly as hard as people think it is. It's especially not hard if you're not obsessive about the details. (Traveling? Use disposable. Forget to do the wash? Use disposable. Just gave birth or adopted and not ready to get started just yet? Use disposable. You've always got a back-up plan.) And gods but do cloth diapers smell better than disposables! I don't know what it is about disposables, but damn! Those things smell horrible. Moving on...

So a few weeks ago in the midst of the holiday craziness, Dinka decided it was high time he got familiar with the toilet. Because Christmastime must have just struck him as the best time to learn something new, what with all the running around and visiting strange houses and it being cold outside. We were at my dad's house getting the kids ready for bed, and Dinka asked for the toilet. Now, we'd told him what the toilet was for, and because we travel regularly they had been in the bathroom with us frequently for months, and they each have little plastic potties at home, but we hadn't exactly taught them how to use them or anything. For one thing it just seemed to make more sense to wait until the weather did not require more than one layer of clothing. But somehow Dinka had put all the pieces together, and I'll be damned if he didn't pee immediately after being placed on the toilet. No adapter or anything. Just a big scary porcelain potty. We were shocked and, I admit, elated.

It just occurred to me that maybe I shouldn't be writing about potty training on the Internet. Hmmm.

We figured it might be a one-time thing, but then he used it again the next day and the next and the next with increasing frequency. One day he used the toilet all day. And this whole time we were snapping and unsnapping diaper covers as quickly as possible. After a little over a week, we were like, "Um, I guess Dinka is ready to be potty trained now?" There was definitely a question mark at the end of that sentence. So what to do? How does one potty train a child who cannot yet dress himself or speak more than one word at a time? In fact, he can't even say "potty." He signs it. I went looking for information, but there's not much out there that applies to kids his age. Everyone I know either potty trained their children as infants or at the age of two or more. But 18 months? I know no one. Which is why I'm going to write about potty training even if it might be a little embarrassing to my future teenagers. Because dammit, we cannot be the only ones out there with an 18-month-old who decided to start using the toilet in the dead of winter.

More to come. Stay tuned.

2011-01-01T08:08:00.005-10:00

Happy New Year!

Dinka wishes all of you a happy 2011 from the comfort of his new underwear.* That's right. Underwear.

*Wow. I can't believe I just put a picture of my kid in his underwear on the Internet. But c'mon. He's cute, right? Resolution: Stop embarrassing my children in public. Yeah, right.

2010-12-27T04:10:00.001-10:00

Snow Day

2010-12-26T04:37:00.003-10:00

Christmas Break

Dinke takes a rest with her new doll. For Christmas, we gave the twins handmade Ethiopian boy and girl dolls. (Thanks, Autumn!) I even made them slings to carry the dolls around, just like we used to do with the Fabertids.

2010-12-23T15:13:00.003-10:00

Real (Embarrassing) Conversations

Alana: I'm going to go hide in the bathroom and wrap your presents shortly.

Xander: What the hell are you giving me?!

Alana: Uh, bedroom. I meant bedroom.

Xander: I'm just going to go ahead and take all yule log jokes off the table right now.

2010-12-22T04:24:00.003-10:00

Things That Make Xanders Happy: XKCD

(Caption: Not only is that terrible in general, but you just know Billy's going to open the root present first, and then everyone will have to wait while the heap is rebuilt.)

Did we mention Xander is a mathematician? That's right. Some people make a living out of being complete geeks.

Merry Christmas!

2010-12-20T04:06:00.001-10:00

The Most Significant Time of the Year

Christmas is very significant for us this year. As it should be. Because Jesus is the reason for the season? Hell, no! (This is the Public House, people. If your holiday is lacking religious dogma, search elsewhere. Christian we may be, but dogmatic we ain't.) It's because Christmas marks six months home with the Fabertids.

Many experienced adoptive parents will tell you the same thing over and over again when it is time to bring home your child. "Don't evaluate your life for six months," they say. Six months. Six months. Six months. Why six months? Because right around six months is when you wake up one morning and realize your life feels completely and totally normal. It's when you no longer worry that you don't know who these people are that cling to your pants leg and demand food from you before they've even taken the time to say, "Hi, Mama." It's when the fears that you've made their lives worse, not better, begin to subside. I don't know why, but six really does seem to be the magic number.

It doesn't just take the parents six months to get from crazy to normal. (Well, still crazy, but more of a normal crazy rather than a crazy crazy.) It takes the kids some time, too. Remember that baby who used to scream every time I moved more than three feet away from him? Well, he pretty much woke up one morning and decided life was good. It was that simple. We didn't do anything special to help him. We were just there, every single day. And sure enough, after about four months of us feeding him and clothing him and loving him, he got the picture. We are not going anywhere. Except maybe to the kitchen for a beer.

And right around six months, one day when we weren't looking, that baby decided to stop being a baby and turned into a little boy.

2010-12-17T03:12:00.002-10:00

A Thoughtful Christmas

I grew up in a family that liked to give each other stuff, especially around the holidays. Actually, I feel like the 80s and 90s were all about stuff. What stuff you had, what stuff your neighbor had, what stuff you did not have but wanted. At Christmastime, everyone would stress out about what stuff they were going to buy and what the gift recipients might think. Opting out of buying stuff and giving stuff was not an option. And almost no one worried about where that stuff came from or how it was made.

I remained pretty much caught up in all of that until Xander and I moved to a 375-square-foot apartment in Manhattan. Living in a small space on a graduate student income pretty much cured my stuff habit. There was no room for stuff and no money with which to buy it. Christmases quickly turned into handmade and second-hand affairs. We got our kicks out of finding the coolest used stuff, making things ourselves, and finding the most colorful newspaper ads to use as gift wrap. Believe it or not, being forced to go this route actually increased our enjoyment of the holiday immensely. We no longer felt forced to brave holiday crowds in search of the best deals. We could use the money we saved to do things together rather than spending it on stuff we didn't really need.

I think one of the gifts of a recession like the one that we are in is that it forces people to be more thoughtful about their purchases. If you have less to spend, you have no choice but to be really picky about how you spend it. If you're really thoughtful, you might even manage to spend some of that holiday cash in a way that not only accomplishes your goal of buying a gift for someone but also directly supports a person in your community. For example, I needed a cool holiday gift for our babysitter. I have a friend who makes these amazing hats. So I bought our babysitter a gift certificate that she can use to commission a custom-made hat. A few months ago when I needed a gift for my parents, I called up a local ceramic artist and asked her to make something for them. You'd assume these items would be insanely expensive, right? No. With a little work, you can find plenty of artisans out there making things you can actually afford. And many will be happy to help you select a gift that fits within your budget. Not sure where to start? Stop by the locally-owned shops in your hometown or, if it's too cold to go out, hop on over to Etsy from the comfort of your very own couch.

Places like Wal-Mart and Target and the like definitely serve their purposes. Don't get me wrong. I have shopped at both for things like shelves and trash cans and toy bins. But I also hate them for the way they affect Americans' expectations about prices and availability. They've trained us to expect to have everything we want right now for a fraction of what things are actually worth. We become so blinded by this illusion of choice and economy that we never have to think about what goes into the production or who is deciding what we can and cannot have access to. We never have to think about what it means when we buy an item from a box store versus one that is available from a in a locally-owned shop or from a real, live artisan. The same applies for food. What is the effect of buying an apple imported from Chile versus buying one grown in the next town? Or buying chicken from a small, local farm versus buying chicken from an enormous plant half way across the country? Where is your money going, and how do you feel about the things it supports?

All of this blather is really just a lead up to a link from my dear hat-making friend Molly. She wrote a very thoughtful post that just begins to explore her thoughts surrounding locally-made items versus imported factory-made ones. Click here to read it.

I think as we each explore these issues, the main thing to take away is not that we should never ever buy anything made in a factory. Rather, I think we all need to be a little more thoughtful about the things we purchase, where they come from, and what is hidden in costs low and high.

2010-12-14T03:46:00.006-10:00

Hello, Stranger

Soooo...It's a bit of a weird feeling to suddenly be sort of Internet famous. When Katie and Xander and I created those faux maternity pics, we did it as a joke, purely for our own amusement. (If you haven't already, you can read Katie's thoughtful explanation of the project here.) We figured our friends and family would chuckle at them, and that would be about the extent of it. I mean, of course I know the Internet is public, but I kind of figured it was so enormous that there was very little chance that many people would ever end up stumbling onto my little plot of Internetland.

When I started this blog ages ago, it was because we lived so far away from family. A friend suggested we start a blog because it's such an easy way to share photos. At first, that's mostly what we used it for. Then we started the adoption, and it kind of morphed into an online journal of that process. Even though a lot of people think adoption is "popular" these days, there still aren't that many of us. Even people who live in largish cities may not know anyone nearby who is part of the adoption community. So those of us out there rely heavily on our Internet pals for help and support, and it is largely for this reason that I keep this blog open. It gets tricky as the children get older, because there are always concerns about privacy. On the other hand, there is the thought that the more we can educate people about adoption, the more we are open about it (within reason), the more comfortable everyone else will be around us and around adoptees. I am still trying to find balance between wanting to share and wanting to keep things private, which is why it feels strange to know that so many people I have never even met now know what I look like in yoga pants. (I just want to say that those photos were taken before I started trapeze. I'm much hotter now.)

On the flip side, though, I find it completely amazing the way people who live nowhere near each other can come together here in Internetland and hang out for a bit. This appeals greatly to my passion for things like equality and creativity. So hello, stranger! Let's be friends.

2010-12-13T03:49:00.005-10:00

More Pregnancy Photos

For some reason, I never get tired of looking at bad maternity photography. It's that car accident effect, I guess. The fact that this has become an entire industry is, I admit, highly amusing to me, which is part of what motivated us to do our own series of maternity photos. Don't get me wrong. I do think it is crazy wicked cool the way new people come to the world. But I guess I am just not sentimental enough to understand why, as one friend put it, some women who give birth speak and act as though they are the first creatures on the planet to discover uteri. I think more along the lines of, "People have been doing this for ages." It's why I also find the way most women are forced to give birth in this country mega creepy. It's like society has convinced them they are incapable of bearing children without the obnoxious interference of a whole army of doctors, nurses, and robots. Women are powerless in this system, it seems. But this is another topic for another day.

Back to tacky maternity photographs. Look what I found! A blog post dedicated entirely to awkward pregnancy pics. I love it!

UPDATE: But wait! There's more! Look what Katie did!

2010-12-09T04:36:00.000-10:00

On the Various Campaigns Spawned on That Social Network Site

Anyone else get tired of those ridiculous and useless pseudo-activist campaigns on That Social Networking Site? I wonder if people who participate in them really pat themselves on the back afterward. Like, "Well, I did it. I changed my Facebook status. I've done all I can for breast cancer this week. Well done to me!" I find pseudo-activism to be extremely irritating. But the most recent "campaign" was somehow extra obnoxious.

Hey! Next week let's all dress up in black, brown, and white to show our support for multiracial families! In addition to feeling good about promoting diversity, we can also be cheered to know that neutral colors are super hot this season!

2010-12-07T14:41:00.005-10:00

Talking

Everyone keeps asking us if the twins are talking, even people we see on a regular basis. This is because as soon as a stranger shows up, they shut up. They seem like silent, shy little beans. But they totally aren't. They blab constantly when it's just the four of us, and their vocabularies are expanding. When one learns a new word, it's only a day or two before they've taught the other one, so their vocabularies are almost identical with just a few exceptions. Just one of the ways that twins are not really twice the work! Anyway, their pronunciation is pretty crap at this point, but here are some words they say pretty reliably even if they are hard to understand:

Mama
Daddy (No idea where they got the "y," because we always say "Dada.")
NAAAAAH! - What Dinke calls herself. Must be said loudly.
Dink - What Dinka calls himself, often whispered
cat (pronounced "dat.")
yeah
hi
bye
teeth
ear
dog
bird
tree
door
car (pronounced "dar.")
light
yay! (Must be said with both arms in the air.)
wow!
TV
bottle
water
bath
bathroom
kitchen
potty (pronounced "pah.")
two
three
four
five
nine (Yeah, I know. Not sure why they skip to nine.)
up (Pronounced "pah.")
jar
shoes
button
that
this
brother
blanket (called "bah," because why would you bother with all those other letters?)
bread

They don't really care about sign language, but they do sign "more," "all done," and "potty" a lot. Whatever. We were worried that the fact that they lived in another country for the first year of their lives combined with the fact that they are twins and subject to twinspeak would mean that they would be language delayed. So the fact that they are talking so much and picking up so many words is super exciting for us. I have no idea what's normal for kids their age, but we're thrilled with their progress and grateful that they are thriving regardless of what the books might say. I find their language acquisition to be one of the most fun and interesting parts of their development, and I cannot wait to hear what they'll say next.

So really, they do talk. I promise. They also have collected a bizarre array of creature sounds:

cow - mmmmmmm
snake - ssssssss
sheep - baa
owl - oooo oooo oooo
wolf - awooo
rooster - also awooo
pteradactyl - squaaaaaaaaaaaawwwwweeeee
zombie - grrrrrrr phlegm grrrrrr

What? Every child knows what a zombie says, right? No? Hmmm.

2010-12-06T03:41:00.001-10:00

A Trip to See the Cousins

A couple of weeks ago, we took a road trip to visit my cousin Anna. (If you don't know the story, click here. It's a good one.) It was the first time all of the cousin kids got to meet each other, and it was just wonderful. We attempted a group photo, which yielded some amusing results.

Seeing them all together just makes me unbelievably happy. I just love them.

2010-12-03T03:27:00.000-10:00

Enjoying A Bit of Fall

2010-12-01T04:03:00.001-10:00

The Other New Sweater

More Dinkee Couture! I finished Dinka's sweater awhile back. And now, finally, I've finished Dinke's. These took me forever to make, but I have to say it was worth it. They're probably my favorite crochet projects so far. Both sweaters fit over fleece liners to make toasty and awesome winter coats.

2010-11-29T03:50:00.005-10:00

Grooooaaaaan. Too Much Thanksgiving Food.

Romper and dress by Dinkee Couture.

2010-11-17T03:07:00.000-10:00

What I'm Thankful For This Year

As we head into the holiday season, I'm just thinking back and feeling utterly amazed and grateful that we live in a time when four people who needed a family could find each other, despite being thousands of miles apart. About this time last year, I was in Hawaii with Xander eating pineapple until my mouth went numb and getting ripped up by lava rock in the ocean*:

Which was great and all, but this year we're sitting around listening to giggles and squeals and enjoying scenes like this:

*I am extremely thankful for my husband, who when he realized I was getting pounded into the rock by the waves and that my skin was being ripped from my body, wrapped his arm around my stomach, kicked off from the rock, and swam with me on his chest for several yards until I was safe. And then, when faced with the choice between going to urgent care or drinking a Bucket of Fire at the Fish Hopper, he supported my decision to go for the obscenely large cocktail instead of stitches. Xander is a total superhero.

Incidentally, that cut took months to heal. I probably should have gone for the stitches, but the Bucket of Fire provided happier memories.

2010-11-16T08:13:00.001-10:00

Opting Out of Cancer and Into Molestation

If you don't fly, then great. Your protest options are simple. You can just continue not flying as a form of dissent with the new airport security screening procedures. Easy peasy.

If you have to fly, and if you can possibly stomach it, please consider requesting a pat down when you go through security vs. being scanned by the machine. The official word is that they are supposed to pat your legs up to your crotch, or as they say, "Until they meet resistance." (By "resistance," I don't think they mean the traveler's loud objections.) And for women this will include touching the breasts. (This does little more than remind me of my visits to Madison Square Garden for performances, something I quickly stopped doing because of the obnoxious security screening, but that's another gripe for another day.) You are allowed to request that the screening be done in private, but personally I feel much safer having my fellow travelers there as witnesses. I'm sure there are and will continue to be some jerk TSA people out there who handle this in a less-than-professional manner, which worries me, but I still consider this the safer alternative to radiation. Yes, they say the amount of radiation is tiny, but the thing for me is that scientists still aren't sure if the effects of radiation are cumulative. And no reasonable doctor I've heard of believes there is a truly "safe" amount of radiation. They recommend against pregnant women being scanned, so how can I possibly be expected to send my children through that machine? Anyway, I'm hoping the presence of adorable twins at least gains me some sympathy in the pat-down line. Although I wonder how the TSA feels about cloth diapers?

Moving on, the reason the pat down is being considered a means of protest is that TSA is not very well equipped to handle large numbers of people requesting pat downs. One official openly expressed concern about the planned November 24th Opt Out protest. You can also call or write your senators. There will be a Senate hearing on this topic tomorrow.

If you are able to rearrange your life accordingly, then you can definitely protest by not flying at all. Or if you have some extra money to spend on the problem, you can show up for a flight and then make a scene at the airport security checkpoint, although due to regulations I consider to be pretty fucking stupid, you can be fined for entering the security zone and then failing to complete the security check. Given that the TSA has not been particularly forthcoming with the details of the various screening options, I find this rule to be pretty sleazy. Hell, I find the whole thing to be sleazy.

For me, while I'm annoyed about this and plan to express my displeasure about these procedures, I do find the whole airport security frenzy to be a joke. I'm not convinced these increased measures do much to deter terrorists. Maybe they'll keep future shoe bombers and the like off planes, but the serious fellows will always find a way, won't they? I get so tired of being treated like a criminal every time I want to fly or cross a border. But even this is not as bad as the triple-screening we got in Dubai or this one time in France. And it's certainly not as scary as some of the border crossings we've done, when you know you can be snatched out of the world in a second just for wearing the wrong expression on your face. But perhaps I should reserve judgment until I've had my first pat down.

2010-11-14T03:43:00.005-10:00

In Which We Hoodwink the Fabertids

Up until about a month ago, the twins were taking naps in the morning and in the afternoon. Their morning nap lasted about an hour to an hour and a half. Their afternoon nap lasted about two-and-a-half to three hours. Awesome, right? But of course they eventually stopped sleeping during their morning nap. This was a bit of a bummer, because it was really nice having that hour in the morning to read the news, drink some coffee, and get ready for the day. So when they stopped sleeping in the morning, we decided we'd try to convert that hour to independent playtime. I was skeptical that they'd go for it. But it worked! It worked! It was amazing!

What we did was we hyped morning playtime like some kind of exclusive party. They could pick out whatever toys they wanted to play with and do whatever they wanted for an hour. (A person with developed reasoning skills would say, "Wait, we get to do whatever we want all day anyway." But these guys are babies. Babies! Which means that fooling them is like taking candy...Okay, no. I'm not really gonna say that.) They particularly dig toys that make noise, like drums and rattles and stuff. We put on some fun music for them and got them to dance to it a little bit in their cribs. Basically, we did whatever we could think of to get them really amped up about morning playtime. Playing alone? In their cribs? It was going to be THE MOST FUN THING EVER!

The first day, they were a little confused and fussy. The second day a little less so. By the third day, they were starting to get into it. Now when we go into their rooms for morning playtime, they actually ask to be put into their cribs. It's awesome. As I type this, they are drumming along to Coldplay and chattering happily in their beds. I am drinking a lovely dark roast with my feet up in the living room.

Score one for Team Parents.

2010-11-11T03:42:00.000-10:00

Mompetition!

My good friend Robin gets total credit for bringing this to my attention. I'll let you guess which mother I am.

2010-11-10T03:42:00.001-10:00

New Sweater

This one was a long time coming. I started it--get this--during the Winter Olympics. Ages ago, right? I finally put the buttons on yesterday. Dinke's is almost done, too.

Also, it is really, really hard to get a toddler to model anything.

2010-11-08T04:21:00.002-10:00

Two Good Adoption Reads

Yet again I find myself posting a link from Rage Against the Minivan. That lady says some useful stuff, I tell you. I don't know how she finds the time to write these long, meaningful posts. But since I don't do it, I'm glad someone does.

There are millions of children out there who do not have families, and I'm not exaggerating. I consider this to be one of the most important issues in the world, if not the most important, because I think family is the basis for everything. I don't think it much matters how a person's family is made up, but having a reliable support network is essential. A lot of children do not have this, through no fault of their own, and I think the rest of us need to be aware of this fact. I believe that providing support to struggling families and children would go a long way to solving some of the problems society faces. Just something to think about, especially as we enter the holiday spending frenzy. Think of what good some of that money and energy could really do.

Be grateful if you have the luxury of reading and then ignoring everything I have just said.

This link is for those of you out there who cannot or do not want to adopt. Adoption is not the only--or even the best--answer to the problems facing the orphans of the world. There are a lot of other things you can do.

Adoption creates a loving family for a child who has been orphaned. But it does not address the root causes of why a child has been abandoned or orphaned to begin with. It is a band-aid on a much larger problem. It is estimated that 99% of the world’s orphans will not be adopted. Adoption is an answer for some orphaned children . . . but not for most of them.

What can I do if I’m not in a position to adopt?

Could you provide support to a struggling family? Volunteer at a group home? Offer art or music lessons to a child in foster care? Mentor or adopt a child who is aging out of the system?

The second blog post I read has to do with privacy in adoption. This is, naturally, something that is very important to us. We do get a lot of questions, and sometimes it is really hard to decide which ones we should answer and how. Here is one woman's perspective regarding that challenge:

The One With All the Privacy

I find it very difficult to politely, cheerfully put down a conversational roadblock when people start asking these questions, even though I'm extremely motivated to do it....I don't want my children's friends, or even their cousins, knowing all there is to know about them. When I think about my children in a school playground, I don't want the other children to know things about them that would hurt. I feel like the bare fact of being adopted is enough to contend with. And being transracially adopted is more than enough to contend with. Personal details, the whole history, the what and when and why, the hard and scary stuff, that seems like too much...

I think that lack of respect for privacy about the babies' history stems from a lack of understanding about the losses involved in adoption. I think - okay, I hope- that if people understood what they were really asking about, they wouldn't ask.

And there you have it. Plenty of reading and thinking to keep you busy for at least a few days. Has anyone else stumbled across any good adoption reads lately? Please share.

2010-11-01T09:58:00.002-10:00

What I Love About the Fabertids Right Now

I spend a lot of my day just managing two kids. Feeding them, diapering them, making sure they don't accidentally suffocate each other. That sort of thing. I do appreciate my kids a lot and often notice things about them that fill me with joy and make me go all sappy-like, but I always feel like I could appreciate them just a little bit more. I thought I'd take a few quiet minutes to reflect on all the things I love about them right now.

- The way Dinka's voice gets super high and squeaky when he tickles us or his sister. "Teek teek teeeek teeeeek teeeeeek!" And the fact that after he tickles one of us, he almost always tickles himself, too, just to make everything fair.

- The way Dinke declines "tickle" as though it were a Latin noun. "Ticka, tickae, tickum!"

- The way Dinke turns her head to the side and smiles at us in a coy way when we ask her to do something she has no intention of doing.

- The way Dinka pats our shoulders when he gives us hugs.

- When the twins babble something to each other that sounds incoherent to me and then go running off in unison to get into some kinda trouble.

- The look of pure joy on Dinka's face when he sees a graham cracker or even just a graham cracker box.

- That they are both obsessed with the blankets I made for them and gave to them in Ethiopia. They drag them all over the house like little Linuses.

- That Dinka rocks out every time he hears any music, including when a car goes by with the bass blasting.

- Dinke's infectious giggle.

- The way the twins chase each other around the house at toddler speed, screaming at the top of their lungs.

- That they are both crazy about the documentary Babies. It's the only video they'll actually watch.

- When Dinke says "yaaaay" and puts her arms up in the air.

- When Dinka suddenly gets the urge to climb something and completely hulks out for a minute to get the job done.

- If they get hurt and you tell them to "shake it off," they both shake their heads from side to side even if they're still crying buckets.

- The enormous grins that spread over their adorable little faces when they first see me in the morning and their competitive, stumbling little sprint to be the first to give me hugs.

- The fact that, even though they are twins, they are so different.

2010-10-29T13:38:00.002-10:00

A Few Last-Minute Halloween Costume Ideas

Not sure what to be for Halloween? TIME has some ideas for you, like my personal favorite: Sad Keanu. (Which of course led me to Internetland's photo of Sad Keanu feeding a bunch of stray cats.) I don't know about you people, but I totally see Xander dressing up as this guy.

We're dressing our kids up as Klansmen for Halloween. Naw, I'm just kiddin'. They're going as ghosts. But this is Georgia, so we have to be prepared for people to think the worst.

2010-10-28T03:31:00.001-10:00

He's On a Horse

While visiting my parents the other day, I sent Xander a picture of Dinka on a stuffed horse, comme ça:

And received the following text message in response:

Hello, babies. Look at your mom. Now back to me. Now back at your mom. Now BACK to me. Sadly, she isn't me. But if she started throwing you up in the air and catching you different ways, she could play like she's me.

Look down. Back up. Where are you? You're on a playground. With the man your mom could play like. What's in your hand? Give it to me. It's a spoon and two outlet plugs for that wall socket you love. Look again. The outlet plugs are now graham crackers. Anything is possible when your mom plays like a daddy and not a lady. He's on a horse.