U is for ...

Most Wednesday mornings at our house you can hear, "Shoot! What are you going to bring for _____ week?" You would think that with this being our second consecutive year of kindergarten, we would have that one down. 

This week, with the theme being the letter "U," I groan, scanning the room for anything beginning with U and begin to brainstorm aloud. "I think there is an umbrella downstairs... Urchin... No, I don't think we have a sea urchin. Underwear?"

Kaleia's face lights up. Yes. That is it, she is going to make her teacher hold up underwear in front of the class. Oh dear. 

Magnolia's "U Week" item last year was no less controversial. The then medical-obsessed kindergarten Magnolia wanted to bring urine in one of her special cups.    

Don't worry, I talked her into just coloring water with yellow dye. 

Pysanky Eggs by Magnolia Rush

On Sunday, my family went to our friend Thomaida's house and we made pysanky. Pysanky are eggs that you draw on with bee's wax and then you dye them. Then you cover the parts you want to stay the dye color with more wax and you dye it a new color. When you are finished decorating, you melt off the bee's wax with a candle and wipe it with a paper towel revealing all of the colors. This is Thomaida's favorite part.  

When I had done the whole process and was melting the bee's wax off my egg, my paper towel caught on fire! Then the burning paper towel fell on my lap. Papa flinged it on to the floor and stomped the fire out. In the process, I fell backward in my chair (Ahhh!) and my second egg broke! After that some people cleaned up the yoke from the egg and the burnt paper towel. After the fire was gone and the yoke was cleaned up, I laughed for a very long time! It was crazy and everyone was talking about it for the rest of the night.

It was a fun night.  Click below to see more pictures.

Chess match: Maggie vs. Huxley

Friday, I arrive at Maggie's after-school care to be greeted by the usual disappointed "Aww (it's time to go already?)." This time she is in the middle of a chess game. We aren't in a hurry so I pull up a tiny chair to watch the future grandmasters.

It's clear that Huxley is much more experienced, reciting the finer points of pawn movement and promotion. The game draws several "experts." They spout out "one move to check!" and speak of fair trades and how many points they each had. Chess has points?!?

After a while I have flashbacks of the last time I played chess, as Huxley picks off Maggie's pieces with ease.

It was our honeymoon in Fiji. Brian was really, really into chess, but to coerce make it fair for his new bride, he would play without a rook or bishop and knight, or sometimes even his queen. In that fateful last game, I was ahead and felt like I had a shot at winning for the first time ever. Then, slowly, my pieces began to disappear and I was unable to help them. After the game, I marched to the bathroom and screamed at the top of my lungs. The soap in the shower was not spared my high-velocity wrath. Brian, my dear, sweet husband (except for his chess brutalities), fresh from our fairytale wedding, was mortified. We decided not to play chess any more.  

Seeing that same fate (okay, maybe not quite as bad) awaiting my daughter, I decide to step in and "help." I advise her to move her bishop to a spot. She trusts my advice and I say "Check." Both kids look at me strangely, incredulously. "That's not check." Still confident, I try to show them how it was indeed check. "You can only check the *king*." The piece I advised my daughter to "check" was his queen. Oops. Maggie's bishop is gone and I decide to keep my mouth shut.

Pretty soon, Huxley's dad arrives. Thankfully, he is willing to indulge their game and able to give knowledgable advice to both kids.

Maggie manages to survive and whittles Huxley down to his king and a few pawns. The two six-year-olds play a game of chase around the board. Huxley manages to take Maggie's last pawn in the process. At that point, Huxley's Dad informs them that once a player is down to one piece, the other player has 15 moves to checkmate or the game ends in a stalemate. Is that even a thing or is he just trying to end the game? 

Stalemate it is. As we walk to the car, Maggie is bashful. She wishes she could have won, has admiration for how good Huxley is, but proud of how many pieces she captured--a much better response to her game than her Mom's soap throwing.

Birthday Celebrations

Today was full of celebrations for this special girl's birthday. 

Click below to read the full story

Farewell Shooshie

For the last few weeks, we’ve been talking to Kaleia about giving up her “shoosh.” She was ready last spring and the transition would have been easy if life had been semi-normal. But

A Year in Unpublished Pictures - 2011: Part 3

Part 3 brings us to Beijing, China, where we are now. This season was probably packed with more fiascos than any other time of my life.  

July in China:

We flew to China on our 9th anniversary. Magnolia did pretty well but Kaleia struggled and therefore Mama was a wreck by the end of the 11 hour flight. We were met at the airport and dropped off at the school dormitory in the middle of the night with little direction. The next few weeks we found ourselves on a steep learning curve while we settled into an apartment and Shannon started the school year. There was much culture shock, especially on the part of Shannon. The girls got used to celebrity status. Brian realized just how tough it was going to be to set up an office in China. Make sure to click read more. 

Magnolia pretending to sleep with her new neck pillow.
Brian getting to know our new, and now good, friend Park. 

A Year in Unpublished Pictures - 2011: Part 1

2011 was filled with many Rushcapades. Much is missing from our blog archive - like all of May through August. So this year's unpublished picture list grew to more than just the one or two per month I like to keep it to. I decided we needed a three part installment. Part 1 - The Lead Up. Part 2 - Travels, or Insanity. Part 3 - Intro to China. There are many more pictures on our flickr site if you are interested. Hope you enjoy! Make sure to click Read More to see the whole post.

January: 

Sisters love each other. 

Brian goes to California for his last Jan term and begins the final stretch to graduation. 

Shannon has her first skype interviews for international school jobs.

Liang Ge Superstars

Question: What makes Chinese people laugh?

Answer: Sponge Bob Square Pants, foreigners trying to pronounce Chinese words, and this.  

Lion Gets a Haircut

I walk into the girls' room and find this scene:

Poor Lion! Is he a victim of the girls' inability to express their feelings during this time of chaos? Or a result of our distracted crazed minds? Maybe a bit of both. I wonder if Lion has lost his strength and who did a better haircut: Magnolia or Delilah?

Why is the Driveway Red?

Magnolia, as we are about to pull out the drive: "Papa, what's that?"

I look back at her in her car seat to see where she is looking: up through the sun roof.

"The sun?  Magnolia, please don't look right at the--"

"Why is the sky red?"

nervous, concerned laughter

"Papa, why is the driveway all red??"

Mascara? MaScary!

Does any toddler NOT do this?

Wandering the Farmer"s Market

We weave our way through the crowds of people drawn out by the late-t0-arrive Northwest summer and the prospect of fresh local goods. My eyes jump from stall to Magnolia, stall to Magnolia, trying to see what is available this week at the farmer’s market while not losing sight of my independent toddler.

“All-by-myself” is her theme lately. I have the double stroller just in case, but as I expected she wants to walk.

A woman steps between us, oblivious of our invisible bond. “Mama, where are you?” I lean around. Her head moves side to side, scanning for me. Our eyes reconnect. Safe.

Magnolia doesn't wander. In new settings, she is practically glued to my side. Slowly, she warms up and her shyness wears off, but she always checks in. Brian and I laugh at the idea of using the monkey backpack/kid leash we were given when she was born. It is still in her closet unopened.

A couple more times the gap between us widens as musicians, colorful flags, and other kids enjoying treats distract Magnolia. Each time I pause, call her name, and she rejoins me by the stroller.

We wander through the market this way until the girls get hungry. Pizza with pineapple is Maggie's choice and I feed Kaleia a jar of babyfood from home. We watch two young girls, armed with cello and ukelele, attempt to entertain the feeding throng. It is obvious this is their first time playing together and I find their conversation more entertaining than their music. "Want to try this one?" "It's okay if you sing in a different key than I play." "You know how to beat box! Let's do it!" "Want to make up a song about strawberries?"

Now, it is my turn to eat, but Kaleia’s awake time is nearly up. So to make my decision easier with less zigzagging down the busiest aisle of the market, I choose to go to the cheapest vendor with the shortest line. Hempler's Hot Dogs it is -- no line up and $2.75. I order my polish dog and hand over my money.

Kaleia starts crying so I reach down to give her a cup of milk, and look around for Mags. I don’t see her. "No worries," I think, "She can't be far." Casually, I call her as the hot dog man gives me my change.

No cute blond head appears.

I call again. Now the hot dog man is trying to hand me my unimportant hot dog as my head bobbles around searching the sea of people for my daughter. I take the dog and try to position the stroller in such a way so I can see the crowd better, bumping into the man behind me. He smiles at Kaleia and makes some comment about me having my hands full. I apologize and explain that I am looking for my two-year old. I continue calling, calling.

No answer.

My cries turn to panic as my little girl that doesn't wander off is lost. This is the scene in the movie where the audience knows what happened to the little girl, but the mom does not. I wish someone would just tell me which way to look.

A nice family offers to watch my stroller while I go look for my two year old. I take off into the crowd heading back the way we've just come, imagining that she's wandering scared, looking for me. Our eyes don't meet. No, she's been taken! What will I tell Brian? I'm going to be one of those moms with their kid on a milk carton. Now, I've left Kaleia with complete strangers. What if I lose them both?

Magnolia! Magnolia! Maggie!

I'm not shy anymore, nor am I polite as I shove my way through looking for my little girl.

I round the corner, heading for customer service. I'm almost to the opposite side of the market now! An older woman says "Here she is." And I think, "How would you know?" But she's right! There she is! How did she get so far, so fast?!

As I scoop her up, I hear "Do you want to see another magic trick?" from the teenage busker entertaining my little wanderer. She was his only audience -- besides the older woman who was probably his mom -- but I don't care.

Making the way back to my stroller, my eyes well up. "You scared Mama." My mind flits to my approaching visit to California, the airport and that monkey leash.

We return to the hot dog stand where Kaleia is happily sipping her milk and I thank the family for watching her. I retrieve my cold hot dog from Magnolia's stroller seat and place her securely in her place. Then we make our way to Ralf's Bavarian Bakery. I need some chocolate. Sitting on the pavement sharing a treat with my special girl, I am thankful.

Teacher's Equivalent of "Dog Ate My Homework" or true story?

Email to my substitute teacher:

Logan,

Thank you for putting those together. I was planning to come in tonight but my toddler put a piece of paper up her nose and it took us a long time to get it out. Now I need to go to bed...

Popcorn: Snack or Entertainment

Standing on a chair, Magnolia (20 months) alternates between a transfixed gaze and ecstatic claps and squeals at the swirling, popping kernels.

Last night, as the popcorn started to build up on one side, I saw out of the corner of my eye, Magnolia gently rotate the bowl. Had she seen me do that? Or did she figure it out by herself?

Unfortunately, her adjustment was out of range for the incoming popcorn for a few seconds. Not wanting to miss any fluffy white treats she carefully moved the bowl back to retrieve the fallen kernels which led to further missed landings.

Popcorn is the preferred after dinner snack and entertainment. 

Bath Time Trespassers

We're all suffering from the grouchies lately. Kaleia constantly has the violent flatulance of a large man spurning his lactose intolerance with a diet of Cheetos and milk. Magnolia is scrapbooking hair and various household items to her face using nasal secretions. And Mama and Papa are on a rigorous night-time training regimen to become zombies.

Today, while bathing to remove the crusty snot from her hair, Magnolia wagged her outstretched arm and shouted "No! No! No!" at her bath toys that were encroaching on her side of the tub.

You know something's wrong when your toys start annoying you.

The Mysterious Reconstitution of the Number 2 (TWO!) and the Subsequent Demise of the Frazzles

Mathematicians in Washington state are beginning to take interest in the seemingly erroneous proclamations of a Bellingham toddler. For the sake of anonymity we shall call her Little-Miss-Hyperactive-Spaghetti-Hands (LMHSH).

One expert remarked, "I'm starting to think maybe [Little-Miss-Hyperactive-Spaghetti-Hands], who's learning to count right now, is on to something. Her arithmetic is a little unconventional--one might even say radical--but I'm starting to suspect that what would seem to be mathematical folly is actually a profound truism that could drastically alter the lives of many everyday people, not just mathematicians."

If you place a group of objects in front of LMHSH and ask her how many there are she'll tell you enthusiastically that there are "TWO!" No matter if there are five or a dozen, she will assure you that there are only two. This is what the mathematicians are so interested in, and what they are beginning to believe is in fact true: the experience of two in real life is drastically different than can be forecast based on equations such as 1+1=2.

Now let me present to you a photograph that illustrates one example of the kind of sad repercussions this radical new math can have on families. As you can see there is a table set for two (But let us be clear about this number two. This table is set for the old number two, the one civilizations have come to know and love over the last several millenia, the two that is only one more than one.) The dinner looks reasonably tasty and is even accompanied by a couple glasses of wine. But that is where the predictable pleasantries and pleasant predictabilities end, for the dinner of this couple (let us call them Mr. Frazzle and his wife Exhaustina) is not occurring at a dining room table or restaurant, nor on a picnic blanket or any other commonly used eating location. The Frazzles are eating their delicious Italian feast on a card table, in a bathroom, next to the toilet.

And the dirty diaper bin.

The Frazzles are adamant that they do not prefer such an arrangement and warn that this sort of thing is a direct result of the radical new mathematical laws professed by the toddler known as Little-Miss-Hyperactive-Spaghetti-Hands. Two is not two. It is five or six or ten. Experts believe that while LMHSH has been a leading proponent of the new mathematics she is not, in fact, the cause of the rupture. After much study it has been proposed that the small being on the right hand side of the image, while extremely cute and seemingly powerless, is the TWO! prophesied by LMHSH and is therefore the primary agent of this mathematical chaos and the attendant demise of the Frazzles.

More research is yet to be done to explain how and why a second child can more than double the demands on parents' time, but until that research is complete the Frazzles will likely need to continue to find innovative solutions for preserving their sanity.

UPDATE: The Frazzles have since vacated the bathroom and resumed more normal eating habits. They are however surprisingly proud of their creative problem solving and coping tactics. They are always on the lookout for other tips and tricks and ask that any readers with insights on how to live with TWO! share them in the comments.

Time for a Diet?

Urine for an Investigation

"Why are the Jeep doors open?" I ask Brian as I back out of our driveway heading to church this morning.

Neither of us is too worried since the Jeep is only loaded with stuff to take to the Re-Store and Goodwill after our weekend garage organizing project.

Brian jumps out anyway to inspect and close the doors.

Sure enough, someone had been in there. A few things were knocked around, but nothing is missing. Actually, something is gained: a cell phone.

The would-be thief left their cell phone! Brian turns it on, reads some text messages and gathers phone numbers for "mom," "dad," and two grandmas, before the battery dies. Sleuth Brian is on the case.

While driving to church..."Shan, does the car smell like pee to you?" "Yeah, maybe its the bag of salt and vinegar chips on the floor?" "No, its stronger than that -- definitely pee." He turns his head to smell the headrest. Sure enough, slightly dampened and reeking of pee. Someone, or something, peed on our headrest. Weird.

Later, Brian drives the Jeep to Improv class and finds the windshield wipers on, both front and back, and the dome lights turned on.

So someone broke into our cars, messed with the settings, peed and left their cell phone??? I feel like this could be on one of those police bloopers about the stupidest criminals.

The Challenges of a Non-Existent Birthday

Recently I called to make an appointment for Maggie's 1 year check up.

Receptionist: When will your daughter be one?

Me (hestitantly): February 28th?

Receptionist: What is her name?

Me: Magnolia Rush

Receptionist (concerned): Uh, don't you mean February 29th?

Me: Well, there isn't a Febuary 29th this year.

Receptionist (relieved): Oh yeah. Right.

I think she thought I forgot my daughter's birthday! Really I was just trying to keep the conversation simple. I guess I will have to be longwinded from now.

The joys and pains of a Leap Day birthday have begun!

The Art of Feeling Sorry for Yourself

When cough turned to gastro-intestinal eruptions on Tuesday I locked myself in the bedroom to spare my baby the same ordeal.

We thought we were in the clear but today Magnolia woke up from her nap with milky chunks on her cheeks and diarhea up the PJs.

Fortunately Maggie hasn't learned the art of feeling sorry for herself, unlike her Mama moaning in bed all day. Other than skipping dinner Maggie has been her goofy, cheerful self.