Smile Pretty

We headed over to our local mall today so the boys could see Santa. They are now 10 and 12. They both still believe. I am certain that these days are numbered. Still, they were anticipating the visit.

They had written letters and so were a little confused as to why, if Santa had already gotten the letters, they needed to actually "ask" for the things that they wanted. I just told them that it was more polite to ask in person. Give the guy a break - - all those letters to read! But, it's been a while since we've been to a U.S. Santa and it turns out you literally have to plead with the helpers for the extra two minutes to actually have a conversation with the guy. Basically, it is a long long line for kids to wait in for a photo op.

First, you have to decide what package of photos you are buying before you can even get an audience with the guy. I wonder if you decided not to spend more than thirty bucks on some mediocre photographs if they would even let you near his lap. I, of course, wanted photos but they seemed flummoxed that I wanted to actually see the photos before I decided. What if the kids looked stupid or Santa's eyes were closed? The elf did not see my point. I had to decide first and THEN if the pictures were stupid, I could choose differently. Was this better line management? I wasn't sure.

So the boys get up there and the helper immediately herds both the boys at the same time towards Santa's lap. I nicely asked if they could first go separately so that they could have some private conversation with the red suit. The woman looked at me like, "Why do they want to talk to him? Could I not see that there was a line of screaming preened children behind me?" I told her that even if they both took 3 minutes whispering their desires in to Santa's ear, they guy was still making more than $300 an hour. She begrudgingly obliged them.

The photos came out pretty good after all, but what ever happened to the cheesy little photo "frames" that used to come with your photos? Now they just print out what you ordered and jam them in to a little white envelope. No little paper frame, no nothing. What a rip. You could, of course, choose to purchase the "pewter-like" frame for an additional $17.99. I decided against.

So, after photos with Santa, we went to get our tree. We got a nice one, tied on the roof of the car and headed home. We were so excited to get it in to its little nifty tree stand when we got home. No joy.

When we unpacked from London I KNOW I saw our Christmas tree stand. I KNOW I actually touched the thing and put it somewhere. Somewhere where I know it would be handy at such a time that I needed it to put a tree in it. I can't find that damned thing anywhere. It's big. It's green. It's heavy. There's only a few places where it could be. It is in none of those places. I have packed and upacked that bad johnny from Tokyo to Frankfurt to London. It was one of those really cool ones that have the little lever that you press to tighten the bungie-like metal wire. Tree goes in straight with none of that screw-the-little-metal-screws into the trunk while holding it straight and steady for 10 minutes.

I had to run to Home Depot and get a new one. A cheesy metal one with the little screws. I hate those screws. The tree is still crooked. Once it's decorated and the lights are on only I will ever notice it. And I will notice it until the day we take it down. Crap.

On a lighter note - - Shannon arrives tomorrow night. We will hold off on tree decorating until she is here to share it with us. She has her 28th birthday while she is here. Yup. That's right 28. Crap.

Da Bears

Georgie played his first JV basketball game yesterday. I wish there was a photo or two I could share, but alas, my camera and I were not simpatico and I got lots of blurred shots. I still can't get the whole "sports" mode thing down and I need a stronger lens. Dear Santa, What I want for Christmas is...

Georgie was so damn excited for this game. He said he was so nervous that he couldn't get to sleep ALL NIGHT. I did check on him right before I went to sleep at 11, so I guess "all night" just means until about 10:30. He was up at around 6:15 a.m padding around, so I know he really was excited.

He has a nice little black/red/white uniform for the San Francisco School Bears that I will show once my camera and I understand each other. He is number 34. Not his personal choice - - since the number 7 is his "lucky" number (yup. Get in the long line for that one!). When they were getting their uniforms assigned the other night all the boys were bemoaning the length of the shorts and the tank tops. They think their shorts are too short because they are not hanging off their butts and pooling around the tops of the basketball shoes. If only they could see the hot pants from the 70's! The wanted to wear black t-shirts under their nylon tank tops, but the coach vetoed it. I have to admit that most of their arms did look kind of scrawny.

It was a very exciting game as far as basketball games for the under 5'2" crowd goes. They were actually executing plays, passing the ball and getting yelled at by the coach like they were a real team! I am not sure how this will go over with some of our "softer" ultra-liberal-don't-yell-at-the-kids-everyone's-a-winner parents -- but I wrote the coach an email (and copied the headmaster) so they will at least know that they have one parent that's o.k. with the coach yelling at her kid when he makes a bone-headed move!

They ended up winning the game 21 to 7. A rousing triumph. While G3 didn't personally score any points, he played defense well and was engaged in the game the whole time. It's entirely possible that Georgie's feet never touched the ground from the time that last buzzer rang until I brought him down to earth by reminding him that he had two tests to study for. Felt badly to take the air out of his balloon, but Spanish and English tests wait for no man. Not even a victorious 6th grade Bear.

Kanye and Me

This morning on the way to school the boys and I were talking about the upcoming activities over the next couple of weeks. Well, we weren't exactly "conversing" in the sense that we were exchanging information, It was more just me talking to them - - or technically, me talking to myself. We have Georgie's first basketball game on Wednesday, the holiday play is coming up and then there's the school ice skating party next week.

I was also mentioning that Shannon would be coming on Sunday night - so we were going to do this and we were going to that, etc. I finally mentioned that she and I were going to be ushers at the school play. At this point, it became clear that Georgie (and surely Henry too) were only listening to part of what I say because G3 immediately piped up and said, "You and Shannon are going to see Usher??? Why can't I get tickets to see Usher??"

I clarified that I was using the word usher as a verb not in reference to a musical performer. Georgie then announced that I probably didn't even know who Usher was. I responded, "Do you think I live under a rock? I read People Magazine. Heck, I ride in the car with you every day. What do you think we are listening to?" (O.K., so recently I have been subjecting them to the All-Christmas-All-Day song station - - such the sap that I am - - but on every other damn day we listen to their stuff.)

So, to further make his point that I am old and completely without any up-to-date cultural knowledge, he starts quizzing me on who I really do know. Solja boy? Flo Rida? (at this point I launched in to my own rendition of Low - - apple bottom jeans all the way through the booty smack - which Henry thought was funny) And finally he says, "Okay, I bet you don't even know who Kanye West is!!" Problem was, he pronounced it as Cain West.

I told him the correct pronunciation was Kan-Yeah, but he wouldn't have any of this. He had asked HIS friend Eric who is obviously the go-to-guy for music trivia in the 6th grade. He was SURE it was Cain. Eric said it was so. I said we should call Shannon, the coolest big sister on the planet, to settle the argument. Let's just say that thanks to Shannon I emerged "cool, hip, Mom" this morning.

Having said that, I am glad that he didn't ask me to sing anything of Kanye's. All I could think of was that Kanye's mother had just died after some problematic cosmetic plastic surgery. Like I said, I read People.

Pretty Please

I had to buy some new make-up the other day. For the record, I am not one of those girly-girls who have vats and boxes full of cosmetics hidden under the sink, in vanity drawers or in closets. I have a make-up bag that consists of the following: mascara, blush, lipstick and tweezers. O.K. that's not exactly true. I do have a second small bag of "dress-up" cosmetics. My every-day routine is spiced up considerably with sheer foundation, neutral colored eye-shadow and eye-liner. The only thing I own multiples of is lipstick. Much of the multi-lipstick colors are left overs from my working days. I suspect that according to any lip color guru these tubes are far beyond their expected lip-stick lives. Alas. Should I ever drop dead at some future cocktail party of unknown causes, please do ask the coroner to check for death-by-expired-lipstick.

I needed some new mascara so I went shopping. I, of course, put on "dress-up" make-up before attending to this errand. Why? Because I am intimidated by cosmetic sales people. They always look so shiny and twinkly and they spend more than my own personal make-up application limit of 3.5 minutes on their own faces. They know all the newest products, they use them, they live them, they ARE them. I have, at one time or another, actually had to wipe purse lint off of my blush tube. I could be condemned to make-up hell for this in their universe. They treat cosmetics like manna from heaven. I treat cosmetics like they are something that keep me from looking like death warmed over.

As you approach the counter they always peer (leer?) at you like you are some foreign species. A foreign species that is a treasure trove of potential cosmetic needs. Your skin quality is immediately critiqued and your application techniques are second guessed. You can actually see them mentally running through their own product catalog, as well as all other product lines, for items that you would absolutely have to have in order to be presentable. They want to fix you. They want to age-defy you. I just want new mascara. Do I want a complete make-over so I can see what my face would look like in it's ultimate, beautified, age-defying state? No. Why? Because every time I have had a make-over I end up looking way, way closer to "What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?" than is desirable.

In the end, I honestly believe that the "dress-up" make-up helped make the situation more bearable for both me and the sales person. She believed that I actually took 10 minutes to apply the requisite facial shield every day. This fit in to her world view and I was only happy to have made her more comfortable. In return, I was only advised on a select few new items and the only advice administered was that a little more cream-type blush would help make me look more dewy. I guess you can't err on the side of too much dewiness.

It was all very civilized. I raptly listened to her spiel. I reverently and lovingly fondled a couple of new eye-shadow colors because it seemed the right thing to do. I looked at the 17 million new kinds of mascara - - new wand types, new formulas for longer, lusher lashes. I bought the same mascara I have used for the past five years. It only took 15 minutes. I was happy.

I have a funny sister

It appears I am being taught a lesson. This lesson is "Never mention your opinion of GIANT blow-up lawn ornaments" in your blog. Should this happen, you will be rewarded with the most GIANT-EST blow-up lawn ornament that is available outside of the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade.

Once this baby started inflating I went back to look for some dwarfs in the bag who's job it would be to tether this sucker down in strong winds. I actually couldn't put this in my front lawn. My lawn is too small. Luckily, I have this outdoor porch. Makes it look like we've got the polar bear in a pen. Oh, and you can't really see it in this photo - - but he's actually illuminated so that everyone in SF can see this puppy at night. We will be in the next google-earth satellite photo for sure.

Neither Henry nor George the elder has seen this yet. Henry will LOVE it. George the elder will feel right at home. His aunt in Philly has the biggest collection of lawn paraphernalia I have ever seen. She will be jealous!! As for Otto, this inflatable pair obviously is a force to be reckoned with. He hasn't stopped growling at them and he won't go up or down the stairs. Guess he's gonna have to learn to cope.

Can't wait to surround this piece of Christmas art with all the multi-colored outdoor lights I got yesterday. That's gonna win us "christmas year of the year" for sure.

And, thanks Deb. You're the best big sister ever.

Cambodia Tomorrow School

Today in Cambodia (our tomorrow), the new school for the orphanage will be dedicated. One of the board members from Cambodia Tomorrow is there for the ribbon cutting ceremony. We had considered going ourselves, but in the end we decided that the boys should be staying in school here in SF this time.

The building looks really nice - - but get a load of the size of the sign! When we first saw the "sign" via e-mail photos the shot was taken in a zoomed-in view with nothing to gauge the actual dimensions. We thought it was going to be a little plaque located next to the front door. Imagine our surprise when we saw the billboard-sized sign that they put out. The good news is that they got the named spelled right. This is some kind of Cambodian miracle. Actually, it is a miracle anywhere. The kids have been going to the same summer camp for the last three years. The batting average for the camp in spelling our names right is low. Very low.

As it turned out, we were never able to come up with a cool school name that included the letters of the kids names. Finally, we decided that the name of the school would be the Cambodia Tomorrow School reflecting the name of the non-profit. The school's motto however, would be "Growth, Hope, Success" There's our nod to George, Henry and Shannon. Although, at this point, I guess the size of the sign leaves no uncertainty, eh?

I have also heard that there are T-shirts for all the Cambodian students with the school name and motto just like the painting on the side of the building. I'm hoping to score a couple for the kids. Truthfully, I am hoping to score one for myself as well.

I was wishing that the one photo with all the Cambodian folk would include our two other little guys that are still there in the orphanage, but alas they are not in this shot. Perhaps tomorrow at the ceremony the board members will remember to take one. They are really great kids and doing well in school. Each time we get a letter from them their English proficiency improves. Fingers crossed they will be able to move one through university.

The coolest thing is to realize that the school is finally built and in operation. We've been working on this for three years. Camtom has been dreaming it for far longer. It's so amazing that it is finished and the kids have somewhere to go to school with desks and windows and doors. Pretty nifty when you think about it.

Thanksgiving Riddles

On Thursday, Henry was in charge of decorating the Thanksgiving Table. It is hard to see, but along with the traditional holiday greeting, the table was decorated with California State Flags. Before the titles went on, I was wondering why he was drawing goats floating on clouds in little boxes. Obviously, he needs to work on both the overall girth and ferociousness of the California Bear. Along with his beautiful art work, Henry further treated us to some thanksgiving riddles. Just before dinner, each family member got one at our plate.

Riddle #1:

I'm here at the table and I eat very slow. Who am I?? (Answer: Henry)

Riddle #2:

I swear a lot and love recesses (he meant Reeses ). Who am I??? (Answer: Dad)

Riddle #3:

I love my orange ball and snore louder than Dad. Who am I??? (Answer: Otto)

Riddle #4:

I once won a science fair and I don't live here. Who am I??? (Answer: Shannon)


What a crack up. He was so cute. He a) really thought that these would be stumpers for everyone and b) was convinced that we didn't know who wrote them. Let's just be clear that Henry's handwriting is distinctive. He has a future in the medical profession just writing prescriptions. Of course we played along and all hummed and hawed before answering. I don't think he has a future in riddle writing.

We ate the last of the Thanksgiving leftovers last night. My final thing to be thankful for this thanksgiving season is that it will be another full year before we eat gravy and stuffing for three consecutive days.