tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-271550022024-03-19T06:08:10.263+03:00Code Yellow MomCode Yellow Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16283426654179102400noreply@blogger.comBlogger534125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27155002.post-3974047380390670132012-09-06T03:02:00.001+04:002012-09-06T03:02:13.125+04:00Don't Get Too ExcitedUmmmmm....I think I've been away too long. I feel out of my depth navigating the "new" blogger dashboard. Is it new? Sheesh.<div>
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And I don't know how much I'll continue blogging here, but I've stumbled on a few things lately that need to be recorded (mostly for me) and this seems the best place to do it. </div>
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Today, it's a list. We did some room re-arranging and organizing for the boys in preparation for back to school and I helped Charlie clean his dresser out and move his clothes to a new one. His whole bottom drawer, as it turns out, was dubbed his "treasure" drawer a while back. </div>
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He hoards, people. It's scary but also insanely adorable. About a third of the way through his treasures, I decided I needed to make a list of everything he had going on in there, because it says so much about Charlie. </div>
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It also says a lot about me, because I could TOTALLY understand why he was keeping about 75% of what he was keeping. And <i>that</i> is scary.</div>
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So, here you go:</div>
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CHARLIE'S TREASURES</div>
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(the quotes are his commentary)</div>
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<li>2 dried grapevines with really cool spirals</li>
<li>18 perfectly sharpened pencils</li>
<li>assorted sticky-backed craft jewels</li>
<li>several hundred 1x1 legos (the boys have a complicated trading game in which these legos are currency - Charlie's rich)</li>
<li>a cast-off cosmetic bag filled with 8 bluejay feathers</li>
<li>11 beer bottle caps</li>
<li>a handful of Ukrainian kopeks</li>
<li>4 birthday cards from his grandmas</li>
<li>1 Valentine from his Mom</li>
<li>2 miniature paper airplanes</li>
<li>part of a packing box - "Because when you put the two pieces together it makes a perfect circle."</li>
<li>1 shiny rock - "It's so cool, because it's shaped like a van...<i>and</i> a gun."</li>
<li>1 empty wipes box and 2 empty small mailing boxes - "In case I need to keep small things."</li>
<li>1 large top of an acorn - "The inside part grew smaller and smaller so I just kept this part."</li>
<li>1 favorite Matchbox car</li>
<li>2 ziplocks of Legos, one of which is only red pieces </li>
<li>2 shells of large pond snails</li>
<li>1 dry snake skin</li>
<li>3 plastic knives</li>
<li>1 ziplock of shells from the beach</li>
<li>1 crow feather</li>
<li>2 empty ziplocks - "Also for small things I might need to keep."</li>
<li>a milk jug</li>
<li>a syrup bottle</li>
<li>a tennis ball</li>
<li>a small mostly in tact bird's nest - "I'll keep this out until the end and put it on top, so it won't get broken apart."</li>
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Code Yellow Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16283426654179102400noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27155002.post-24658641819168189352011-02-01T13:11:00.003+03:002011-02-01T13:11:00.732+03:00Will You Do Me A Favor?My husband hates when I preface a request with that question. He says it's unfair on the one hand because he has to agree to the favor before he knows what it involves, and it's silly on the other hand because I know that he's not going to say no anyway. He prefers that I just get out with it, no preamble, no simpering, no attempt at endearing eyelash fluttering...<br /><br />Anyway.<br /><br />Since my last post, Henry had pneumonia, Calvin had bronchitis, Charlie and Jane are still coughing and snotting, and I can't lose the rattle / scratch in my own throat. I want to fumigate the house and never go out again, it's making me so frustrated. But a visit to the ER and a few nebulizer treatments later, I think we really are getting better. I'm not too bad a whiner, I don't think, but this prolonged viral cycle is getting me down.<br /><br />Anyway, again.<br /><br />I have a personal writing project that I need to work on offline with a really concentrated effort to finish this month, and then - here's where you (and the favor) come in - I am moving my blog to a new place. I have a couple online security things to tackle and I want a new flavor for my blog, so I'm working on a new platform. I'm planning to switch during February and be up and running a little more focused, a little more anonymously, and a little more regularly on March 1st.<br /><br />So, after all that preamble, here's the cut and dried request: If you would like to follow me to my new digs, please email me (codeyellowmom[at]gmail.com) with the words "new blog" in the subject line and I will put you on my contact list when I get the new blog underway. I will not use your email for any other reason (unless I already do!) and I would love to have you along when I get going again. I won't be redirecting Code Yellow Mom there or publishing my new site address here, so be sure to email me if you are interested. (Grandmas, I will email you automatically.)<br /><br />Happy February!::simper, simper::eyelash flutter::Code Yellow Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16283426654179102400noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27155002.post-31446451768356932002011-01-07T08:22:00.005+03:002011-01-07T08:52:19.291+03:00"Why Be You When You Can Be NEW?!?!"We recently watched the movie Robots again...and again...<br /><br />While the kids watched in the back seat and I listened from the front, I remembered the ad campaign launched by the smarmy new CEO under the direction of his diabolical mother with the intent to make millions: all based on the fact that no-one would be able to fix themselves up with spare parts anymore - they would have to completely remake themselves whenever one little part became obsolete or damaged.<br /><br />Hmmm. It got me thinking the last time I watched the movie, and it got me thinking this time. On the one hand, I'm a total believer in "new" - and I love new starts and new blank books and the idea of being "made over." I think there's a delicious and wonderful true element of hope and possibility in all that.<br /><br />But I also think we overwhelm and choke the essence of who we really are when the "new" we desire at any cost is someone - or more often, someTHING - that is not really our true self.<br /><br />And I think there's a lot of power in using the best of what we've got, taking a hard look at what's damaged and obsolete and making it better, but most of all in loving who we really are and what we really have, enough to keep the good parts and make them shine, shine, shine.<br /><br />That's what I'm going to work on more. Sometime soon.<br /><br />***<br /><br />And that, mys friends, was my best effort at profound and/or interesting tonight...<br /><br />Since right after Thanksgiving, we have had at least one - if not two or three - people in the house sick: stomach bug (at the risk of proffering too much information, I just have to say that watching a little half asleep boy in the middle of the night try and figure out if it would be better to sit on the toilet and lean over the tub or vice versa is one of the saddest sights ever), flu/severe colds, inexplicable aches and high fevers, and pneumonia (poor David!). All of it (except the pneumonia, thank heavens) has cycled through most of us at least twice now. <br /><br />Copious amounts of laundry, lack of sleep (or lots of bad sleep?), still having to be the mom even when I feel like gunk, not being able to do anything but ride it out, holding hot little whimpering babies...It's one of those times that I just must say, "I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired!!" <br /><br />I think we are slowly getting better - Henry and Jane are still down, but hopefully in the next day or two, we will all be on our feet and feeling good as...<span style="font-style:italic;">new?</span> <br /><br />Maybe. <br /><br />New, but with all the same laundry piled to the ceiling, right? Ah well. C'est la vie.Code Yellow Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16283426654179102400noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27155002.post-40670342609075424782010-12-29T18:45:00.003+03:002010-12-29T18:56:06.274+03:00Let's See If I Remember How To Do This...Holy Moly. It's been a while, huh? So long I'm not even sure where to begin catching up. So maybe I won't catch up. We'll just start where we are.<br /><br />Which is: back in the USA, homeschooling, getting settled, bustling around for the holidays, and always...always...trying to catch some extra zzzz's.<br /><br />Now, don't get too excited about me being back here...I'm still trying to carve out my schedule and work in the me/writing time that I need to have. I'm also working on a laptop with a bum space bar and a mouse button missing, which is a recipe for early onset insanity. But I'll get it fixed and I'll keep you posted.<br /><br />In the meantime, I'm wishing you all the best in 2011!!!Code Yellow Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16283426654179102400noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27155002.post-28443492434758646332010-09-20T00:11:00.002+04:002010-09-20T00:17:51.639+04:00In Case You're Wondering...We packed up and moved out of Kiev a little over two weeks ago, and flew 3 hours, then 11 hours, then 1 hour to Colorado. We're trekking around Colorado, Utah and Idaho until the end of this week, when we will return to semi-real life in Virginia. <br /><br />We are having fun, haven't had too much jet lag, all caught and got over head colds, celebrated my birthday and Aunt JoJo's birthday, and are now having fun with cousins and lots of wide open spaces and blue, blue sky.<br /><br />As far as the blog, I'm thinking through some changes while we're playing and I'll try to get back online and let you know what's up as soon as we've "landed" toward the end of this month. <br /><br />Happy Autumn!Code Yellow Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16283426654179102400noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27155002.post-65460303576633577872010-08-12T06:56:00.002+04:002010-08-12T11:46:46.432+04:00The Jane: One YEAR Old!!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TGOgKOO--3I/AAAAAAAACOY/rlG2K1OSr5s/s1600/Jane12mos00.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TGOgKOO--3I/AAAAAAAACOY/rlG2K1OSr5s/s400/Jane12mos00.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504419267056958322" /></a><br />Another month slipped by between posts. Good thing I have a baby to document, or this blog would be completely dry, huh? <br /><br />We celebrated Jane's first birthday on Monday and she is delightful. She gives kisses, has lots more smiles for everyone these days, and is walking everywhere.<br /> <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TGOjtlRITTI/AAAAAAAACPg/Lx98kxbGK_8/s1600/jane12mos09.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TGOjtlRITTI/AAAAAAAACPg/Lx98kxbGK_8/s400/jane12mos09.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504423173070277938" /></a><br />The tutu is officially outgrown, so we did her photo shoot in the adorable outfit Aunt Lesli gave her when she was born. She's growing into her <s>princess</s> queen status quite well.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TGOjsqjyYDI/AAAAAAAACPI/Q4X85lqhey8/s1600/Jane12mos06.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TGOjsqjyYDI/AAAAAAAACPI/Q4X85lqhey8/s400/Jane12mos06.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504423157310840882" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TGOgL1NEXSI/AAAAAAAACO4/Gfr2s1_9XqI/s1600/Jane12mos05.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 287px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TGOgL1NEXSI/AAAAAAAACO4/Gfr2s1_9XqI/s400/Jane12mos05.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504419294697774370" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TGOgLTiVGQI/AAAAAAAACOw/gSN-HJxBlUo/s1600/Jane12mos04.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 285px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TGOgLTiVGQI/AAAAAAAACOw/gSN-HJxBlUo/s400/Jane12mos04.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504419285660145922" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TGOgK2epChI/AAAAAAAACOo/l5OPceibGMs/s1600/Jane12mos03.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 285px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TGOgK2epChI/AAAAAAAACOo/l5OPceibGMs/s400/Jane12mos03.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504419277860047378" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TGOgKrhy30I/AAAAAAAACOg/AUflQfu4EXY/s1600/Jane12mos01.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 285px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TGOgKrhy30I/AAAAAAAACOg/AUflQfu4EXY/s400/Jane12mos01.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504419274920484674" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TGOmc7Ga4cI/AAAAAAAACPo/ZyZPBLUMh-Q/s1600/Jane12mos02.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TGOmc7Ga4cI/AAAAAAAACPo/ZyZPBLUMh-Q/s400/Jane12mos02.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504426185408045506" /></a><br />Happy Birthday to my spicey little girl! We love you, Jane.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TGOjtWzdPYI/AAAAAAAACPY/DS9fb6lhoPU/s1600/Jane12mos08.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 285px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TGOjtWzdPYI/AAAAAAAACPY/DS9fb6lhoPU/s400/Jane12mos08.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504423169187724674" /></a>Code Yellow Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16283426654179102400noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27155002.post-8637805950153491782010-07-10T14:17:00.006+04:002010-08-02T10:58:29.884+04:00The Jane: Eleven Months OldI think I caught a lot more expressions of Jane's personality with this month's photo shoot. It was a lot of fun. <div><br /></div><div>Some things to know about Jane this month: </div><div><br /></div><div>She wrinkles her whole face these days when she smiles.</div><div><br /></div><div>She can courtesy laugh. There are few things that are more hilarious than an 11-month-old who will give you a cheesy little smile and a heh-heh-heeeehhhhh followed abruptly by a deadpan look. </div><div><br /></div><div>She waves good-bye and does all of pattycake and understands how to give loves and kisses.</div><div><br /></div><div>She still does not like strangers, but she's getting better and warming up to them.</div><div><br /></div><div>She adores her brothers and they can make her laugh better than anyone.</div><div><br /></div><div>She has taken a few steps already, but they are usually stealthy ones when no one is looking.</div><div><br /></div><div>She will sometimes lay on her back or sit and flap her arms helplessly to show that she is just to upset to move toward you.</div><div><br /></div><div>She tattles on and tells off her brothers in a very fierce way.</div><div><br /></div><div>She can screech louder than any child I have ever met.</div><div><br /></div><div>She is heavy - she looks all soft and actually even a little petite, but don't let those marshmallowey thighs fool you! The are filled with lead. She weighed 22 pounds at her last check-up.</div><div><br /></div><div>She is absolute peaches and cream.</div><div><br /></div><div>And here are the tutu snapshots for this month:</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TD704TVtPgI/AAAAAAAACOI/SiF52yW3tYY/s1600/jane11mos04.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TD704TVtPgI/AAAAAAAACOI/SiF52yW3tYY/s400/jane11mos04.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494097843539754498" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TD7037OPOxI/AAAAAAAACOA/JP_9UYW7trU/s1600/jane11mos05.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TD7037OPOxI/AAAAAAAACOA/JP_9UYW7trU/s400/jane11mos05.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494097837065976594" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TD703a9Ke3I/AAAAAAAACN4/QbvZ8fKn_78/s1600/jane11mos06.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 285px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TD703a9Ke3I/AAAAAAAACN4/QbvZ8fKn_78/s400/jane11mos06.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494097828404427634" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TD7z97uBLnI/AAAAAAAACNw/sAlfAFWwhl8/s1600/jane11mos03.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TD7z97uBLnI/AAAAAAAACNw/sAlfAFWwhl8/s400/jane11mos03.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494096840766860914" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TD7z9EwLVyI/AAAAAAAACNo/WAGPkCH0PqQ/s1600/jane11mos07.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TD7z9EwLVyI/AAAAAAAACNo/WAGPkCH0PqQ/s400/jane11mos07.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494096826011965218" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TD7z8qRfyeI/AAAAAAAACNg/JSSiKmHZqsw/s1600/jane11mos02.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TD7z8qRfyeI/AAAAAAAACNg/JSSiKmHZqsw/s400/jane11mos02.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494096818903960034" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TD7z8RS_EAI/AAAAAAAACNY/2pDDQ7ItmbE/s1600/jane11mos08.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TD7z8RS_EAI/AAAAAAAACNY/2pDDQ7ItmbE/s400/jane11mos08.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494096812199317506" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TD7z7yoyW6I/AAAAAAAACNQ/Zty2XttaLFM/s1600/jane11mos01.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TD7z7yoyW6I/AAAAAAAACNQ/Zty2XttaLFM/s400/jane11mos01.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494096803969260450" /></a></div><div><br />I got a little creative editing photos, and was rather pleased with this black and white that I made.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TD7z7yoyW6I/AAAAAAAACNQ/Zty2XttaLFM/s1600/jane11mos01.JPG"></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TD704qz2oWI/AAAAAAAACOQ/v1xNEWB4FZo/s1600/jane11mos11.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TD704qz2oWI/AAAAAAAACOQ/v1xNEWB4FZo/s400/jane11mos11.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494097849840214370" /></a><br /></div><br />I can't believe there is less than one month left of her first year.<br />::sniff::sniff::Code Yellow Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16283426654179102400noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27155002.post-8130506763688118692010-07-09T19:14:00.004+04:002010-07-09T19:30:14.824+04:00Just a MomentA sudden awareness of fairly prolonged peace and quiet jolted me this afternoon while I was checking my email, and that familiar "uh-oh" feeling when things have been too quiet for too long spurred me into investigating, dreading what I might find...<div><br /></div><div>AND...</div><div><br /></div><div>Jane: sitting in the hallway, happily chewing on age-appropriate toys by the bedroom door...</div><div><br /></div><div>Charlie: busy lining up cars and trucks on the rug in the playroom...</div><div><br /></div><div>Henry: intensely enjoying MarioKart without screaming at his virtual opponents...</div><div><br /></div><div>Calvin: propped up on pillows on my bed, reading a chapter book.</div><div><br /></div><div>What's wrong with this picture?</div><div><br /></div><div>The answer? </div><div><br /></div><div>Nothing! </div><div><br /></div><div>Amazing! Weird! </div><div><br /></div><div>Wow.</div><div><br /></div><div>I just needed to appreciate and document the beauty of it. </div><div><br /></div><div>P.S. You know what else happened today? Jane napped. Charlie napped. I napped. All at the same time. The big boys were quiet and got along and did not dismantle anything while we napped.</div><div><br /></div><div>Today might be a good day to buy a lottery ticket or something.</div>Code Yellow Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16283426654179102400noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27155002.post-68085135041700903692010-06-21T15:10:00.001+04:002010-06-21T15:10:00.633+04:00Spring Reading Thing in Review<center><a href="http://callapidderdays.com/2010/03/coming-soon-spring-reading-thing-2010.html"><img src="http://i104.photobucket.com/albums/m185/callapidderdays/SRT10_sm.jpg" /></a></center><br />Wow! I can't believe it's been three months since I started my <a href="http://codeyellowmom.blogspot.com/2010/03/spring-reading-thing.html">Spring Reading Thing</a> goal. In some ways, March seems a long time ago. And in others, time has absolutely flown by. Summer is upon us!<br /><br />My original goal for this spring was to read books (about one a week for the twelve weeks of the challenge) with one stipulation: each book had to already be on my bookshelf. <i>No buying books to read!</i> (We're moving at the end of the summer and our books take up about half our household allowance in weight already, I'm pretty sure.) So I combed my shelves and made a list of the ones I've been meaning to get to - some for a really long time - and made my reading goal list. <div><br /></div><div>I read...about half the books on it. And then I departed from the list. A lot. Thanks to a little stash of light reading at the house where we stayed in Portugal and the free library here at the embassy, I found some other reads that distracted me from my original plan. Just a teence.<br /><br />But here's the thing: I did read a little more than a book a week, AND I didn't <span style="font-style:italic;">buy</span> any new books. So I mostly accomplished my goal, right?<br /><br />In case you're interested, here's what I read from my original list:<br /><br /><div><div id="gr_grid_widget_1269200453"><div class="gr_grid_container"> <div class="gr_grid_book_container"><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/24407.Poetry_180_A_Turning_Back_to_Poetry" title="Poetry 180: A Turning Back to Poetry"><img alt="Poetry 180: A Turning Back to Poetry" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1167521997m/24407.jpg" /></a> <i>Poetry 180. </i>I heart poetry. There are some gems here, and I thoroughly enjoyed perusing and dog-earing and re-reading some of the beautiful words here. If you don't do it already, I highly recommend checking out a good book of poetry every now and then. It's good for the soul.</div><div class="gr_grid_book_container"><br /></div><div class="gr_grid_book_container"><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/121732.Surprised_By_Joy" title="Surprised By Joy "><img alt="Surprised By Joy" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1171834912m/121732.jpg" /></a> <i>Surprised By Joy. </i>In true Lewis fashion, he gave me a lot of food for thought in this description of his childhood and adolescence. Made me fall in love with classical education more than I already am, and made me tease out some of my own philosophical and theological convictions. Nothing like reading someone who can masterfully articulate what you would like to say but can't. </div><div class="gr_grid_book_container"><br /></div><div class="gr_grid_book_container"><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/1832568.The_Venetian_Mask_A_Novel" title="The Venetian Mask: A Novel"><img alt="The Venetian Mask: A Novel" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1266906080m/1832568.jpg" /></a> <i>The Venetian Mask. </i>For whatever reason, this book took me a while to get into, but I ended up liking the story a lot. A little far-fetched and a little too coincidental at points, but an intriguing read set in a period of history that I wasn't entirely familiar with - never knew much about Napolean conquering Venice. Kept Venice at the top of my list of places to visit. </div><div class="gr_grid_book_container"><br /></div><div class="gr_grid_book_container"><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/45183.The_Enchanted_Castle" title="The Enchanted Castle (Puffin Classics)"><img alt="The Enchanted Castle" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1170275001m/45183.jpg" /></a> <i>The Enchanted Castle. </i>I've heard about this book from several different people as a great book to read aloud with kids. I don't know if my boys would be really into it as this point, but I enjoyed it - it reminded me of books I loved when I was a girl. I like the old-fashioned language, and the element of fantasy in this book was fun because it was written at the turn of the last century, before the era of cinematic special effects, and it charmingly depicts the real and the magical adventures of children. </div><div class="gr_grid_book_container"><br /></div><div class="gr_grid_book_container">Here's what I ended up reading instead / in addition to those on my original list:</div><div class="gr_grid_book_container"><br /></div><div class="gr_grid_book_container"><img src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1178786668m/837522.jpg" alt="The Railway Children (Puffin Classics)" /> <i>The Railway Children</i>. I decided to roll with my new interest in E. Nesbit. This is not a fantasy but a great story nonetheless. I was surprised by the Russian/espionage element in it, since it was written before the Soviet Union. I also loved the wholesome family relationships and the friendships of the children with people in a small community. Again reminded me of the idealistic things I loved to read when I was a girl - all hope for decency and patience and kindness.</div><div class="gr_grid_book_container"><br /></div><div class="gr_grid_book_container"><br /></div><div class="gr_grid_book_container"><img src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1182181276m/1240331.jpg" alt="Hints on Child Training: A Book That's Been Helping Parents Like Your...for More Than 100 Years" /> Hints on Child Training. Good old-fashioned ideals and, true to its title, hints for training children. I get on little kicks in this area sometimes because I so often feel like I'm not doing things quite right with my children. I liked this book because it helped me prioritize and feel a desire to understand children a little better.</div><div class="gr_grid_book_container"><br /></div><div class="gr_grid_book_container"><img src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/31JKlDlLn2L._SX106_.jpg" alt="Soon She Must Die" /> Soon She Must Die. It makes me laugh that I read this. It was written in like 1985 or something and has some funny quirks because of that time period, but the premise of the murder plot is rather clever, the British element is cool, and the result of the murder gave me the oddest sense of frustration that I've ever had reading a book, I think because it's so based in a kind of futile reality. It was like that foiled, "Doh!" feeling. I really liked that things hinged on a work of literature (even though this is hardly a deep thinking type read), and the approach to the question of "for love or money?" is awesome. Totally great beach read. Which is what it was for me.</div><div class="gr_grid_book_container"><br /></div><div class="gr_grid_book_container"><img src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1273689063m/5293532.jpg" alt="One Of Ours" /> <i>One of Ours</i>. I have never heard of this title before, and I love Willa Cather. Three things that I liked about this book: (1) Cather's beautiful prose does not disappoint and she describes many feelings of living in small-town/rural America (even in the present day) nearly perfectly, including why many young people might want to join the military and yearn to do something great; (2) The time of the story is the eve of World War I, and because it was actually written in 1928, the description of the first World War is not colored by the atrocities that the world witnessed just 10 to 15 years later with the advent of World War II. It gave the first real and vivid account I've ever read of how Americans viewed and experienced the first World War,a s well as its scope and tragedy; (3) quite by accident, I realized that this is the book with the character for which my grandmother was named. The whole second section is entitled "Enid" and the dates for the novel's publishing fit with when my great-grandmother would have seen or read it and decided to name a little girl after it. </div><div class="gr_grid_book_container"><br /></div><div class="gr_grid_book_container"><img src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1183387525m/1410320.jpg" alt="The Savage Garden" /> The Savage Garden. This was a satisfying read while I was reading it, but I wasn't entirely pleased with how it ended, and I didn't really like the "all-knowing manipulator of events" element in resolving the mystery. The garden itself is really awesome and there are some great scenes and discoveries that make it a fun read, though, if you can suspend disbelief a little bit and just roll with it.</div><div class="gr_grid_book_container"><br /></div><div class="gr_grid_book_container"><img src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51b%2BiF8GP4L._SX106_.jpg" alt="Steady Days: A Journey Toward Intentional, Professional Motherhood" /> <i>Steady Days</i>. I mentioned this book in another post. Really, really like it. Will refer to it often.</div><div class="gr_grid_book_container"><br /></div><div class="gr_grid_book_container"><img src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1266470349m/92163.jpg" alt="Sarum: The Novel of England" /> <i>Sarum</i>. Um, I'm really on an English history kick and have pretty much read something from every era, so I was excited to pick this one up because I want to know all about Salisbury. But I didn't get to the actual cathedral part because I was frustrated by the historical fragments. It's decent writing and I might read it sometime in the future, but I quit about halfway through, which I hardly ever do, but some of the stylistic things just irritated me. It might have been just a timing thing, but I think I might also have been spoiled by <i>Pillars of the Earth</i>, which I read earlier this year. Now <i>that</i> is a good cathedral building story. </div><div class="gr_grid_book_container"><br /></div><div class="gr_grid_book_container"><img src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1171729729m/116771.jpg" alt="The Crediton Killings (Knights Templar, #4)" /> <i>The Crediton Killings</i>. This crossed my English history and my recent murder mystery interests nicely. It was cleverly told and interesting. There are a few more of these in this series, but this was just enough. </div><div class="gr_grid_book_container"><br /></div><div class="gr_grid_book_container"><img src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1174427174m/398199.jpg" alt="Northanger Abbey" /> <i>Northanger Abbey</i>. I have now read every Jane Austen novel. I really, really enjoyed this one because I think it reflects a younger Jane Austen, and it's a little more saucy and sarcastic, if not as deep, as her others. I will probably read this one again soon, because it made me laugh out loud several times. Not so much has changed socially since this novel was written.</div><div class="gr_grid_book_container"><br /></div><div class="gr_grid_book_container"><br /></div><div class="gr_grid_book_container">And just for fun, here's what I didn't read from my original list:</div><br /><div class="gr_grid_book_container"><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/3287692.Son_of_a_Witch" title="Son of a Witch (Volume Two in the Wicked Years)"><img alt="Son of a Witch" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1255675220m/3287692.jpg" /></a> <i>Son of a Witch. </i>I think I reached my Maguire fill. I just couldn't get into this one. Maybe later, when I need a dark, quirky read.</div><div class="gr_grid_book_container"><i><br /></i></div><div class="gr_grid_book_container"><span><span></span></span><i>Grace-Based Parenting</i> - This was a plan to re-read, so I don't feel too bad about not getting to it. </div><div class="gr_grid_book_container"><br /></div><div class="gr_grid_book_container"><i>The Cello Suites</i> - Definitely still on my list. As soon as I'm finished reading a <i>different</i> book that I just gave David, for Father's Day. </div><div class="gr_grid_book_container"><br /></div> <div class="gr_grid_book_container"><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/854423.Resurrection" title="Resurrection (Oxford World's Classics)"><img alt="Resurrection" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1178924160m/854423.jpg" /></a><img src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1266454395m/28348.jpg" alt="Crime and Punishment" /> <i>Resurrection</i> and <i>Crime and Punishment</i> - Can I really live in a Slavic country without reading some Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky? I thought not. But I think I just can't take any more fatalism and oppression and corruption than I'm already aware of on a daily basis. Maybe sometime when I'm a little removed from it and safe in America again.</div><div class="gr_grid_book_container"><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/854423.Resurrection" title="Resurrection (Oxford World's Classics)"></a></div><br /><div class="gr_grid_book_container"><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/875085.Zorro" title="Zorro"><img alt="Zorro" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1179104130m/875085.jpg" /></a> <i>Zorro. </i>Not entirely interested in reading this anymore. I might just contribute it to the free library as a token of my appreciation for my spring reading. </div><br /><div class="gr_grid_book_container"><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/10907.The_Pursuit_of_Happyness" title="The Pursuit of Happyness"><img alt="The Pursuit of Happyness" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1166338904m/10907.jpg" /></a> <i>The Pursuit of Happyness. </i>Loved the movie, wanted to read the real story. Still might.</div><br /><div class="gr_grid_book_container"><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/15997.Paradise_Lost" title="Paradise Lost"><img alt="Paradise Lost" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1266451406m/15997.jpg" /></a><i>Paradise Lost</i> - This has been on my list about three times. I think I'm addicted to having the goal to read this no matter what. </div></div></div></div></div><br />Special thanks once again to <a href="http://callapidderdays.com/2010/03/spring-reading-thing-2010-start-reading.html">Katrina at Callapidder Days</a> for hosting the Reading Thing! It's been great.Code Yellow Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16283426654179102400noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27155002.post-36493438983327732722010-06-14T16:01:00.004+04:002010-06-14T23:00:38.952+04:00Just for Total RandomCharlie turned three over the weekend. <br /><br />He was born three. years. ago. Man. <br /><br />The main thing that I want to say about him is that I adore the way he says "orange:" it's "oh-zenj." Oh-zenj juice, oh-zenj slices, oh-zenj crayon. I will personally maim anyone who tries to teach him the "right" way to say it. I am that serious about him not growing up. Got it?<br /><br />And now here's the total random part of this post, because I'm skipping to a different child. But maybe it is not totally random because I have mentioned the color orange already, which provides the perfect segway to these photos, taken about three years apart.<br /><br />Henry three years ago, on vacation at the beach:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TBZ4IyU5C8I/AAAAAAAACMw/mKucu6cHdOQ/s1600/HTechno2.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TBZ4IyU5C8I/AAAAAAAACMw/mKucu6cHdOQ/s400/HTechno2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482701688713841602" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TBZ4ItGg_5I/AAAAAAAACMo/EkgTRmfQFHA/s1600/HTechno1.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TBZ4ItGg_5I/AAAAAAAACMo/EkgTRmfQFHA/s400/HTechno1.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482701687311368082" /></a><br />And Henry, this year, on vacation in Portugal:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TBZ4JVldAuI/AAAAAAAACM4/d5ktyJGf5Ag/s1600/likeholdentime.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TBZ4JVldAuI/AAAAAAAACM4/d5ktyJGf5Ag/s400/likeholdentime.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482701698178548450" /></a><br />We have found that Henry chills out best on an orange couch with electronic entertainment. It gives me hope that there are some things that babies don't grow out of. <br /><br />Also kinda makes me want to buy an oh-zenj couch, so Charlie can tell about it and Henry can veg on it with his Fringies, forever if he wants to.<br /><br />So, this post was brought to you by the number three, the color orange, and the Mom who doesn't want her babies to get "so big."<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TBZ6E6aROgI/AAAAAAAACNA/SNB_WVBKrzc/s1600/DSC_0010.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TBZ6E6aROgI/AAAAAAAACNA/SNB_WVBKrzc/s400/DSC_0010.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482703821187660290" /></a><div>Sigh. </div>Code Yellow Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16283426654179102400noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27155002.post-57172364454294436172010-06-10T16:00:00.006+04:002010-07-17T19:03:47.932+04:00The Jane: Ten Months Old<div>Today is the photo shoot day for our Girl in residence, aka M.I.P. (That's either Most Important Person or Monkey in Pink. We're trying to decide.) She is 10 months old, and this month has flown. First, a few things about Jane, for grandparents and posterity:</div><div><br /></div>Among her first ever smiles, I noticed that she did a distinctly girly thing: she grinned and then added just a smidgeon of a twinkly squint at the end. This month, the squinty smile has become exaggerated and she bestows it on anyone who makes her laugh. My favorite, though is when we all start laughing and she squints and courtesy laughs with us. She is <i>social,</i>. and she has social "skills" that my boys <s>still don't have</s> didn't have at this age. Don't think that doesn't scare the pee (and maybe a tiny bit of the introvert) right out of me.<br /><br />In fact, because of her social skills, we had to move her crib out of our room to the room down the hall because she would wake so frequently in the night and want to snuggle and "talk" and generally waller with me. I would try to nurse and she mostly just wanted to "hang." She learned really quickly (with not too much crying at all!) about just sleeping at night once there wasn't Mommy right in the room to chat with or screech at, and we are all better rested.<br /><br />And because she has her own room now, our bedtime ritual has gotten a little more structured and I spend some concentrated time with her before putting her down, singing and rocking. She sings along! I love it! She will lay on my chest and hum herself to sleep while I sing. She really likes singing and last week also started humming really loud when we sing hymns in church. It's truly delightful.<br /><br />One thing I haven't documented before about Jane, is that a big eye watering yawn or a big sneeze make her smile and give a little sighing laugh when she finished with them. It's like she's proud of it, or it cleared her head or something. Also hilarious to see and I hope to catch it sometime on video.<br /><br />Another interesting thing about her is her propensity for chewing on furniture. It's a little like the little girl in Series of Unfortunate Events - biting is her talent. One of her favorite methods is to pull one of the kitchen chairs around to the front of her high chair and just chew. She also likes the corner of one of the drawers on our coffee table. Um, yeah...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TBDzTm-05FI/AAAAAAAACLo/z3LjMRDY7LM/s1600/janeeatschair.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TBDzTm-05FI/AAAAAAAACLo/z3LjMRDY7LM/s400/janeeatschair.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481148264717018194" /></a><br /><br />She continues to be a real Mama's girl, but will now play and love on Dad, which is very cute, and rather savvy, of her. Although she very clearly has moments when she only wants Mom, and she calls me by name in a low repetition: "Momomomomomomomomomomo..."<br /><br />She has a definite screech button and knows how to use it. She knows how to get someone to come running to put her brothers in check. This morning she did it and as soon as she was in my arms, she leaned forward a bit and started yelling at Charlie (the offender) right along with me.<br /><br />Jane and Charlie have a bit of a love-hate relationship, usually love, sometimes very, er, fierce love. I like to watch them together. It's going to be a fun dynamic in our house...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TBDzSUPikzI/AAAAAAAACLg/SskOfqvbG7A/s1600/janencharlie.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TBDzSUPikzI/AAAAAAAACLg/SskOfqvbG7A/s400/janencharlie.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481148242506978098" /></a><br /><br />Yesterday, we received a great package from Aunt Joeli that included the most precious assortment of tiny bows and barrettes and headbands, so Jane is now accessorized. Boy, are we going to have fun!<br /><br />So without further ado, here are the official tutu-fied pictures of Jane at 10 months old:<br /><br /><div><i>(First, not wanting to look at me or leave the curtain alone...)</i></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TBD0HwkPf7I/AAAAAAAACMg/fFXS3XI7ux8/s1600/jane10mos07.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TBD0HwkPf7I/AAAAAAAACMg/fFXS3XI7ux8/s400/jane10mos07.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481149160643067826" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TBD0Hh3XSJI/AAAAAAAACMY/n_bIQdm_X2M/s1600/jane10mos06.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TBD0Hh3XSJI/AAAAAAAACMY/n_bIQdm_X2M/s400/jane10mos06.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481149156696737938" /></a><i>(The next one is unfortunately without Grandma's quilt in it because Jane crawled off, but the look on her face is how she stopped and looked at Charlie, who was throwing a fit because he "never gets to be in pictures!"...Classic.)</i></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TBD0HDWd3UI/AAAAAAAACMQ/n1F-3bUbcGw/s1600/jane10mos04.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TBD0HDWd3UI/AAAAAAAACMQ/n1F-3bUbcGw/s400/jane10mos04.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481149148505693506" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TBD0GhgV1SI/AAAAAAAACMI/tr5ERmZcuYg/s1600/jane10mos01.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TBD0GhgV1SI/AAAAAAAACMI/tr5ERmZcuYg/s400/jane10mos01.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481149139420304674" /></a><i>(Her arms flap when her brothers come around to play and talk...)</i></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TBDzUrQJvBI/AAAAAAAACMA/edmVVMWBAho/s1600/jane10mos03.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TBDzUrQJvBI/AAAAAAAACMA/edmVVMWBAho/s400/jane10mos03.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481148283043298322" /></a><br /></div><div><i>(Serious...)</i></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TBDzUT4WTMI/AAAAAAAACL4/XyXNwN0EDug/s1600/jane10mos02.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TBDzUT4WTMI/AAAAAAAACL4/XyXNwN0EDug/s400/jane10mos02.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481148276769443010" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TBDzUNrfU3I/AAAAAAAACLw/_xWrnutRi-0/s1600/jane10mos05.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 285px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TBDzUNrfU3I/AAAAAAAACLw/_xWrnutRi-0/s400/jane10mos05.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481148275104895858" /></a></div><div>My housekeeper calls Jane "hitrulya," which, roughly translated, is "clever/sly little girl." It fits. Jane has this whole world figured out and she's taking it by storm! </div>Code Yellow Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16283426654179102400noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27155002.post-62608310197689886602010-06-09T14:29:00.002+04:002010-06-09T17:11:51.785+04:00You Should Live Here: English in CyrillicYou wouldn't think it would take so much time and so many starts and stops to get one little post up. It's all in my head...just can't seem to get it down on virtual paper. Or maybe the biggest problem is that it's all in my head. Ah, well...<br /><br />One of the reasons Kiev was on the top of our list of foreign posts was that David and I both have Russian-speaking experience. David speaks excellent Russian, and I understand most everything that is said and can speak enough (in a pretty darn good accent, if deplorable grammar) to get by.<br /><br />Language is an interesting thing and I love that in most countries of Europe, most people speak <span style="font-style:italic;">at least</span> two languages, and one of them is usually English. (Ukraine might be the exception - lots of people study English, but it is not common by any means, and speaking it is a lot different than reading text book phrases. I've had a few occasions in which store clerks have gotten really ugly with me for not speaking their language, even when I was making my best effort.)<br /><br />I think it's a little sad that most Americans don't ever learn a second language and that they are even resentful and unhelpful to people who don't speak English. The way things are said in another language can be so beautiful and sometimes more precise than in one's native tongue, and language helps a person understand culture and other people's way of looking at the world so much better. It's also a delightful experience to participate in a conversation when two people try their hardest to understand and to be understood - if we gave all our conversations that same effort, amazing things would happen.<br /><br />Having said that, I have to say that I haven't been very good at teaching my kids any Russian or Ukrainian while we've been here. The school does offer it in first grade, so Calvin has had some exposure to it, but up until the other day, I thought he had pretty much only learned how to say hello, goodbye, a few colors and animals, and how to count.<br /><br />There's a "mini-market" that opened a few months ago on the corner about 50 yards from the front door of our building that I occasionally go to for a soda or snack. I guess you could consider it the Ukrainian version of a 7-11.<br /><br />If only they had Slurpees...but I digress.<br /><br />So the other day, I needed some refreshment but the babies were crazy and I was not dressed appropriately for going outdoors, so I decided to see if Calvin was game for a bit of adventure. To my surprise, he was totally up for going to the mini market by himself to get me a soda, and some ice cream for his brothers and him. <div><br /></div><div>Then suddenly I got nervous. He's a smart and capable boy, but I decided he needed some survival skills in case anyone started speaking to him and he didn't understand what they wanted him to do or whatever. (My boys have been known to get really frustrated about the communication thing, and I suddenly had visions of little American boy imploding when all the lady was trying to do was tell him his total.)<br /><br />I was halfway through my advice to just start speaking English back to whatever they say so that they know you can't understand, to smile and hand them the money, and if that fails, just put the stuff down and come home without it. He looked at me with a look only Calvin can give and said, "<i>Mom.</i> I'll just say 'Я не понимаю русский.'* It's not a problem."<br /><br />All rightie then. No worries.<br /><br />He came back, pleased as punch, and was hero of the hour for bringing ice cream and soda and the correct change back. And I learned that those first grade Russian lessons do amount to something. Calvin can read any word he sees in Ukrainian or Russian, and it is funny to hear him pronounce things in a near perfect imitation of native speech.<br /><br />And as Calvin learns to incorporate Russian into his communication skills, Ukraine is learning to incorporate English into lots of things. I've been amused on more than one occasion how many English words are used these days on signs and in Russian in general. The most amusing if when they take an English word and turn it into an authentic part of native speech by adding the Russian grammatical ending. (Like the verb "to park" - they take park and add "ovaht" to the end, and voila! A new Russian verb: parkovaht! Even though they do have a real Russian word that means the same thing. Hmmmm....)</div><div><br /></div><div>Just for fun, I've taken a few pictures in the hope that you will also get a kick out of English in Cyrillic. I'm starting to think that if you learn as much as Calvin knows (or at least the sounds of the letters of the alphabet, "please," and "thank you,") you'll totally be fine in Kiev.<br /><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAlZCpZTh_I/AAAAAAAACLY/pgfOYHYJzcw/s1600/cyrillenglish01.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 399px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAlZCpZTh_I/AAAAAAAACLY/pgfOYHYJzcw/s400/cyrillenglish01.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479008323679520754" /></a>Wanna take a car for a тест драйв? Pronounce: tyest drah-yeev and remember to roll your "r!" </div><div><br /></div><div>McDonald's signs are my favorite. There are words for most of the food items on the menu, but because of the charming "Mc" branding thing, in Ukrainian they keep the whole English word and just spell it in Cyrillic. The thing is, if you don't <i>pronounce</i> it with a Ukrainian <i>accent </i>(i.e., the way it's <i>spelled</i>), the person taking your order will not understand you in the least. I promise. So...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAlZCEgp8MI/AAAAAAAACLQ/GNUDnwk5NJg/s1600/cyrillenglish02.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 398px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAlZCEgp8MI/AAAAAAAACLQ/GNUDnwk5NJg/s400/cyrillenglish02.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479008313778237634" /></a>чiкен рол. Say it, "chee ken rrrrrohl."</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAlZB9LWUOI/AAAAAAAACLI/dKZvXePb3jc/s1600/cyrillenglish03.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAlZB9LWUOI/AAAAAAAACLI/dKZvXePb3jc/s400/cyrillenglish03.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479008311809822946" /></a>бiг тейсты. They left out the 'n' for some reason. So just say it, "Beeg Tayeesty."</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAlZBm3txMI/AAAAAAAACLA/8pER6d-ly5o/s1600/cyrillenglish04.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 398px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAlZBm3txMI/AAAAAAAACLA/8pER6d-ly5o/s400/cyrillenglish04.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479008305821893826" /></a>мкфлюры кiткат. Say it, "McFl-you-ry." And it's not "KitKat" even though it might look like it - it's "KeetKaht."</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAlXWjgBtzI/AAAAAAAACK4/bJbfl1XW_tg/s1600/cyrillenglish05.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAlXWjgBtzI/AAAAAAAACK4/bJbfl1XW_tg/s400/cyrillenglish05.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479006466671228722" /></a>мкменю - "McMyenYou" - that's what a meal deal is called. So, you order a биг мак ("Beeg Mahk") Menu or a дабл чизбургер (Dah-ble Cheezburrgerrr) Menu, or a мкчикен (McCheeken) Menu, or a филе-о-фиш (Feelyeh-oh-feesh) or чикен макнагетс (Cheeken McNah-gets) Menu. That is, if you want a large фрай (frrry) and drink to go with it. (An interesting note on the McNuggets spelling - there is a letter in Cyrillic that makes a "ts" sound (like the z's in "pizza", but when they tranliterated it they used the "s" sound and "t" letters separately. It's funny, and I'll tell you more about it in a minute...) </div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAlXWar-FjI/AAAAAAAACKw/e2A-Wh0hAx8/s1600/cyrillenglish06.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAlXWar-FjI/AAAAAAAACKw/e2A-Wh0hAx8/s400/cyrillenglish06.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479006464305403442" /></a>Would you like to advertise on this биг борд? You can put anything you want on a "Beeg Borrrrd." Just call 489-5555.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAlXWHEYvZI/AAAAAAAACKo/VGFMZhQpeto/s1600/cyrillenglish07.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAlXWHEYvZI/AAAAAAAACKo/VGFMZhQpeto/s400/cyrillenglish07.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479006459039104402" /></a>Here's some брикет ("brrreeket") for your барбекю ("barr-byeh-kyu"). And an example of using an English word (grill) and putting the Russian declension on the end, since the briquettes or for the grill, it's грилив ("greeleev"). So cool. </div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAlXVm56_JI/AAAAAAAACKg/wRmnWm-L07s/s1600/cyrillenglish08.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAlXVm56_JI/AAAAAAAACKg/wRmnWm-L07s/s400/cyrillenglish08.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479006450405276818" /></a>My favorite for Calvin to read: супермаркет ("supehrrrrmarrrrket").</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAlXVeV1qCI/AAAAAAAACKY/3RC5EuqAFSM/s1600/cyrillenglish09.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 399px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAlXVeV1qCI/AAAAAAAACKY/3RC5EuqAFSM/s400/cyrillenglish09.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479006448106448930" /></a>роллы. It's plural for "roll," so it's "rroley." (They're crazy about sushi here, btw - signs for roley everywhere...)</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAlWf6N6jnI/AAAAAAAACKQ/ckgMbKgQ990/s1600/cyrillenglish10.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAlWf6N6jnI/AAAAAAAACKQ/ckgMbKgQ990/s400/cyrillenglish10.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479005527876472434" /></a>коктейли. It's not one cocktail, it's a bunch: say it, "Kohk-tyeh-lee."</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAlWfR8I9sI/AAAAAAAACKI/Nyfbc2Syvxc/s1600/cyrillenglish11.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAlWfR8I9sI/AAAAAAAACKI/Nyfbc2Syvxc/s400/cyrillenglish11.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479005517064500930" /></a>Eрнст енд янг. I like how they provide the transliteration right on the building for you.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAlWd5DVM-I/AAAAAAAACJ4/G5A_q_56YIs/s1600/cyrillenglish13.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAlWd5DVM-I/AAAAAAAACJ4/G5A_q_56YIs/s400/cyrillenglish13.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479005493203907554" /></a>хелло раша. This makes me laugh every time I see it because they are making fun of themselves a little bit. Say it, "hhhelloah Rrrahsha!" (with a really hard -guttural? - "h"), and be sure to emphasize the "ah" sound in Russia. Bet you never knew "Russia" rhymes with "Sasha" did you? (P.S. The "ah" sound at the end of hello is not pheonetic at all, and is very slight, but it's how they say it and how they answer the phone.)</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAlWddfyKkI/AAAAAAAACJw/2Bf0VlgueKw/s1600/cyrillenglish14.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAlWddfyKkI/AAAAAAAACJw/2Bf0VlgueKw/s400/cyrillenglish14.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479005485807053378" /></a>ланч меню. Say it, "Launch Myenyu." </div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAlS5c_8SJI/AAAAAAAACJo/beDYwmMF0xk/s1600/cyrillenglish15.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAlS5c_8SJI/AAAAAAAACJo/beDYwmMF0xk/s400/cyrillenglish15.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479001568663324818" /></a>сайт. Say it, "Site." You can buy the empty lot behind this fence by calling this number.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAlS5EnVxdI/AAAAAAAACJg/ozpIsNnqXkc/s1600/cyrillenglish16.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 399px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAlS5EnVxdI/AAAAAAAACJg/ozpIsNnqXkc/s400/cyrillenglish16.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479001562117686738" /></a>тип топ сервис. Probably the best thing in Kiev. Literal roadside tire repair. You seriously just pull up onto the sidewalk in front of this one. And what's it called? "Teep Tohp Sairrveece." Truly. </div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAlS4vbCcFI/AAAAAAAACJY/F0Sz_PWM3-E/s1600/cyrillenglish17.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAlS4vbCcFI/AAAAAAAACJY/F0Sz_PWM3-E/s400/cyrillenglish17.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479001556428943442" /></a>пицца папа. Say it, "Pizza Papa." Remember how I told you about the "ts" letter? That's it, twice, in pizza. But it's inexplicable to me why two "ts's" are needed in Russian pizza. It takes two z's to make that sound, but it should only take one "ц," right? Maybe they're just trying to compensate for making you think you can really get good pizza in this country.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAlS4FZiYjI/AAAAAAAACJQ/8eIjniSNt3c/s1600/cyrillenglish18.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAlS4FZiYjI/AAAAAAAACJQ/8eIjniSNt3c/s400/cyrillenglish18.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479001545148359218" /></a>мiстер снек сендвiч-бар. "Meester Snek Sendveech Bar." If you need a snek or a syendveech, this is the place. Also a fun one to hear Calvin read.<br /><br />And here's a couple others that I didn't get pictures of, but are pretty common around town:<br /><br />паркинг: parrrrking. Really emphasize the "g" with a slight "guh" breath at the end and you'll be saying it just right.<br /><br />сайдинг: siding. Again with the g at the end. Lots of the big hardware megastores have begun selling сайдинг - a whole new concept in exteriors. I think it's especially funny to transliterate words with "ing" at the end.</div><div><br />йога: yoga. It's relatively new to have these kind of classes, but it's become a bit of a craze here now.<br /><br /></div><div>And now, for the word that started the whole concept for this post:</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAlS38W_NhI/AAAAAAAACJI/ywOD_qDbnzQ/s1600/cyrillenglish19.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAlS38W_NhI/AAAAAAAACJI/ywOD_qDbnzQ/s400/cyrillenglish19.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479001542721746450" /></a>камтугеза. This one was brought to me in a newspaper first, by my Russian teacher. She said that she had no idea what камтугеза meant until she started saying it over and over again to herself and trying to puzzle it out. You try it: "Kahmtugyehzah... kahmtugyehzah... kahmtugyehzah..." Do you know what it says? Give up? It's "Come together!" The best ad campaign for a radio station I've ever seen. By the way, don't you love the "Radio Roks", too?<br /><br />The only one that might possibly be better than камтугеза is the name of an actual financial institution here in Kiev: брокбизнесбанк. Say it, "Broke Business Bank." Heh. If that doesn't amuse you...</div><div><br />And now, just for more fun, let me send you on a little linky treasure hunt: My sister posted about <a href="http://gypsy-joe.blogspot.com/2010/04/its-high-time-i-posted-something.html">two great links</a> she found all about Kiev, which you can find on her blog. They are super references and might be of particular interest if you are living or planning to live in Kiev sometime. Clickety click to read some great things that other people have noticed and written about this city and Ukraine!<br /><br /><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">*That's, "I don't understand Russian," with first grade grammar. :)</span></i><br /></div></div>Code Yellow Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16283426654179102400noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27155002.post-35979151519503706992010-06-03T15:52:00.005+04:002010-06-05T22:35:06.282+04:00I've Got Rhythm...Or At Least I'm Trying to Get SomeOne of the great perks and one of the great problems of being a stay-at-home mom is that every day is clear and empty of everything except the little people you share it with. I love the flexibility and the fun of being my own (and the little peoples') boss, but in my heart of hearts, I crave structure, routine, a plan. And sometimes I wish it wasn't my job to make that plan.<br /><br />You know as well as I do that often the best plans are derailed before noon on most days with the littles - stuff simply comes up. But I also know that my kids (and me) are happier when there are at least some touchstones of each day that are the same - the same time, the same way of doing it - a rhythm: breakfast when we wake up, lunch and a nap around midday, a walk in the late afternoon, stories before bed. In between, things can amuck sometimes, but we can always jump back on at one of the touchstones. <br /><br />My rhythm (and motivation) has been off since Jane (or even some before). You know how a pregnancy and a new baby can shake things up a bit. And I'm trying to get it back. I like to get to a point that when I say, "OK, Charlie, naptime!" He hops up from what he's doing, grabs his "softy" and we go for a snuggle and he's asleep in less than five minutes, because it's just what we do. It's a beautiful thing.<br /><br />I like the thought of having days that come in and go out like the tide - lots of different things to do, but a sense that things are in motion and rolling smoothly.<br /><br />There are lots of blessings and benefits of having a routine - not a rigid, unbendable schedule, but a routine. I've read several things that have inspired me lately in that direction and given me some great ideas. I just wanted to share them with you, in case you are looking for a little rhythm, too.<br /><br />First, I read Steady Days, by Jamie Martin, a <a href="http://www.steadymom.com/">blogging mom</a> of three. This is a lovely, simple book that gives lots of helpful ideas and a feeling of empowerment to do what works in your own home. Most of all, I appreciated the gentle way in which she outlines her reasons for getting organized and having structure for her and her children, with one of her primary goals being to create memories and be grateful for the magic of every day. She articulated for me something that I've always believed but couldn't put my finger on: Structure doesn't inhibit, it empowers. If you have a rhythm and routine, then when out of the ordinary things come up (fun and not-so-fun), you're not totally sunk, but you are free to enjoy the fun or deal with the crises without losing your mind. <br /><br />I also believe that there are two main kinds of childhood memories: the once-in-a-lifetime-type trips or experiences, and the quiet daily feelings and simple rituals of home. Having a routine and sense of order makes both kinds of memories more likely to happen and to be truly happy.<br /><br />Second, I ordered <a href="http://www.titus2.com/">Managers of Their Homes</a>, a planning tool for homeschooling families. This is definitely more "how-exactly-to," and might not appeal to a lot of people, but I found it immensely helpful in reevaluating how I use my time and realizing the gift of time and my stewardship over it. I know that I can't do a schedule the way that's outlined here, but I do know that I can use my time better, and I really liked the practical advice and Biblical basis for valuing time and ordering our homes in this book.<br /><br />Third, I really like the ideas at <a href="http://inspiredtoaction.com/">Inspired to Action</a>. You can subscribe to this blog and get emails about making motherhood a mission and a joy. It's mom-fuel of practical tips and inspiring anecdotes, plus some great giveaways.<br /><br />The common thread in all three of these resources was the idea that Mom needs to get up and get going, but first and foremost, she has to give herself some quality time - for spiritual uplift (uninterrupted calm and quiet, prayer, scripture), for physical revitilization (exercise), and planning the day. All this is stuff I already know, but as I kept running into, expressed forcefully and eloquently, I started to really understand that "me" time is the best thing I can do for my family, and that's it's not selfish and it's not something to squeeze in between all my other to-dos <span style="font-style:italic;">if I can</span> - it's something that will <span style="font-style:italic;">facilitate</span> all those other to-dos and help me actually get them done!<br /><br />So, I'm going to start this week on making my morning work for me, beginning with a little exercise and a little quiet time alone before the nuttiness of the day begins. It's small, but it's a start to finding a good rhythm.<br /><br />What's something you do to help your days with children flow?Code Yellow Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16283426654179102400noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27155002.post-49645288388727014992010-06-02T16:17:00.011+04:002010-06-05T10:01:09.941+04:00You Should Live Here: The RynokMy sister Joeli and I went on a photographing adventure to capture some quintessential and fun Kiev stuff before she left, and I meant to have this post up a long time ago, but it didn't happen. You'd think I was lazy and/or had four kids or something. I'm going to make good, though, starting soon.<br /><br />But first, speaking of Joeli, she went on some small expeditions with a young friend of ours from church named Annie and was better at posting, and it's really fun to check out her perceptions (hers are a little less filtered than mine) - and pictures! - of <a href="http://gypsy-joe.blogspot.com/2010/03/gifts-of-sea.html">fish</a>, <a href="http://gypsy-joe.blogspot.com/2010/03/truly-ukrainian-adventure.html">family celebrations</a>, <a href="http://gypsy-joe.blogspot.com/2009/11/notes-on-ukraine.html">life as we know it</a>, and <a href="http://gypsy-joe.blogspot.com/2010/03/its-spring-hooray.html">some beautiful spring sites</a>. So clickety-click away for other American in Ukraine stuff.<br /><br />And now, I want to tell you about a place that makes me inexplicably happy every time I go. Even the times when I wrestle through it with two toddlers in a stroller, I come out in love, with a giddy little spring in my step. To me, this place is a whole mixture of sentimental value, cultural immersion, appreciation for the work of people who bring fruit out of the earth, and a sense of accomplishment every time I do it. It is a tactile and visual representation of real life in Ukraine. Who would have thought shopping for vegetables could do that? <div><br /></div><div>There are lots of expats who hate the place and who avoid it like the plague, but I L-O-V-E the the рынок (pronounced "reenuk," transliterated "rynok"), a marketplace of fresh produce, other foods, and household goods. There are also several specialty rynoks in town - the book rynok, the pet rynok (I HAVE to go there before we leave, just for fun...), the car rynok, a couple of children's rynoks (baby clothes and gear galore). </div><div><br /></div><div>There are several general rynoks in Kiev, each region has one, usually near a metro stop. The most famous is Bessarabsky rynok. Ours is at Lyukanivsky, and I just learned that it is the least expensive one in the city. I love it.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAeS9oHtiCI/AAAAAAAACH4/dOE2qbeOEvo/s1600/rynok01.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAeS9oHtiCI/AAAAAAAACH4/dOE2qbeOEvo/s400/rynok01.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478509059158935586" /></a><br />I am not unaware that I'm completely romantic about the place, and my husband assures me that there is a dark mafia underbelly to it, but I prefer just to see the wonder and interest of it all. However, even I have to laugh at the sign over this little stall: (молоко - milk, and мед - honey) We're not quite <span style="font-style:italic;">there</span> yet, but the rynok does rank pretty highly in my book...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAeZnJiPomI/AAAAAAAACJA/p6bcDavbF_k/s1600/milkandhoney.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAeZnJiPomI/AAAAAAAACJA/p6bcDavbF_k/s400/milkandhoney.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478516369572995682" /></a>I'm not even kidding, while I try to gather my thoughts and write a few words about it, I'm getting all choked up. Shoot. Anyway...</div><div><br /></div><div>We took these pictures just before Easter, when the rynok was coming alive again after a long, dark winter. It doesn't close during the cold months, but all winter long, much of the produce is covered with grey-colored blankets and tarps or kept in boxes. This winter there were some wooden crates turned on their sides with glass panes wedged on the front like a sort of display window, and candles inside to produce some warmth for the sad peppers and tomatoes people were trying to sell. I wish I would have taken pictures then because it was eery and a little sad, really. Mostly there were only potatoes and onions, and the whole rynok looked as grey as the weather. </div><div><br /></div><div>But when spring comes, the beautiful geometric displays come again, color bursts onto the scene, people start talking and laughing more as you browse, and it starts looking like a cornucopia spilled onto every table. First it begins with citrus, available in the late winter, early spring...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAeS9O9qk6I/AAAAAAAACHw/77_00FsHWSk/s1600/rynok02.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAeS9O9qk6I/AAAAAAAACHw/77_00FsHWSk/s400/rynok02.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478509052405912482" /></a>There are almost always apples (they have so many varieties!). About now, there are strawberries and other berries - I remember June from my mission very vividly because women would sell little newsprint cones full of fresh raspberries. Everything is in season - I like to watch the colors of what's on sell change throughout the summer and fall.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAeS809BSrI/AAAAAAAACHo/ak9uCsqCe-w/s1600/rynok03.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAeS809BSrI/AAAAAAAACHo/ak9uCsqCe-w/s400/rynok03.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478509045423884978" /></a>I like the people who work in the rynok. Most of them are much more friendly than your average vendor in Kiev. I have fun talking with them and I like to listen to their Ukrainian banter with each other as I pass by. I like looking at their faces and their hands. Joeli once said that if someone had hands like that in America and was touching food, it would be a problem, but here, to me, it adds something to the value and appreciation for the produce I'm buying and eating. It makes it more personal somehow.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAeS8T9BJPI/AAAAAAAACHg/PNvBXamoPfg/s1600/rynok04.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAeS8T9BJPI/AAAAAAAACHg/PNvBXamoPfg/s400/rynok04.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478509036565505266" /></a><br />I also like during the cold months, the vendors wear their heavy coats but always an apron over them...</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUboxET-BqcafybF7nij2hfrpCogit-5EwFpiaUQ-TOyUEL9OnzptaMrRAWeDkI9_6UDDXuO2_dOODiNkj38UWJh_jTfZkoY647Iv9QeuSSNP0TT7Qsji5kU60njf4cYcnvIIbVA/s1600/rynok05.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUboxET-BqcafybF7nij2hfrpCogit-5EwFpiaUQ-TOyUEL9OnzptaMrRAWeDkI9_6UDDXuO2_dOODiNkj38UWJh_jTfZkoY647Iv9QeuSSNP0TT7Qsji5kU60njf4cYcnvIIbVA/s400/rynok05.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478509028843468450" /></a>This is probably my favorite rynok picture ever: the orange lady on her phone. Don't you love her hat and her face? That is the Ukraine that I treasure. I also like the cut oranges - every vendor will let you taste what they are selling. They have sharp knives that they will cut a little sliver of apple or orange or cucumber that you just pull off the blade and taste. If it's something juicy, they will also provide a little tear of their grey toilet paper (think of newsprint about the consistency of party streamers) to wipe your fingers, too.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAeVMU8sqqI/AAAAAAAACIg/LeyAE381kTA/s1600/rynok06.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAeVMU8sqqI/AAAAAAAACIg/LeyAE381kTA/s400/rynok06.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478511510733761186" /></a>In a different section of the rynok, apart from the fresh vegetables and fruits, is the area where canned and pickled things are sold. Here you can get fresh shredded cabbage and carrots as well as soured cabbage, carrots po-koreisky (a shredded, garlicky salad - one of our faves!), beets, and a whole smorgasbord of eggplant, mushrooms, peppers, pickles, and onions in various salads and appetizer-like displays. They offer taste-tests here, too - with little metal tongs just larger than tweezers, they pinch up some shredded cabbage that you take off with your fingers and pop in your mouth.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAeVMOQTv2I/AAAAAAAACIY/sv9BMg-5n6k/s1600/rynok07.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAeVMOQTv2I/AAAAAAAACIY/sv9BMg-5n6k/s400/rynok07.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478511508936965986" /></a>Almost every vendor in the non-fresh section sells her own version of pickles. That is what I taste the most when I go...some are more sweet than dilly, some are extra garlicky, most are really yummy. You buy them by the kilo (or portion thereof), they weigh them for you and put them in a plastic bag to carry home. David loves them so much that he looked up online how to make one's own pickles and keeps threatening to get the container and start making pickles on the side. I think that would be fun.</div><div><br /></div><div>There is also a section of the rynok that has dried mushrooms and other fruit, herbs, spices, and nuts. I haven't gotten very proficient at shopping these because the Russian is not always very specific. (If it's green, it's called "Green" - it could be cilantro, parsley or basil, although they are getting better and there are actually words for all the herbs and spices, of course. But I'm never quite sure if I'm buying the right thing. It's still pretty cool, though.)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAeVLi84HMI/AAAAAAAACIQ/RXuIEvJVQZ4/s1600/rynok08.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAeVLi84HMI/AAAAAAAACIQ/RXuIEvJVQZ4/s400/rynok08.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478511497312738498" /></a>On the other side of the food rynok, there are aisles of stalls with clothing and household goods. My personal favorite is the hardware "store:"<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAeZmlNSqgI/AAAAAAAACI4/I_2iQbgiHKU/s1600/rynokhardware01.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAeZmlNSqgI/AAAAAAAACI4/I_2iQbgiHKU/s400/rynokhardware01.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478516359821437442" /></a>There are beginning to be mega building stores in Kiev, but I get a kick out of this 6x6 rynok version of Lowe's.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAeZmHmkY3I/AAAAAAAACIo/CvEfCjiG9XQ/s1600/rynokhardware03.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAeZmHmkY3I/AAAAAAAACIo/CvEfCjiG9XQ/s400/rynokhardware03.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478516351874392946" /></a>Just outside the official rynok, along the sidestreets and sidewalks leading into it, is what I refer to as the street rynok. These are usually smaller farmers and individual vendors. I'm never certain where they get the goods they are selling, because it varies so widely, sometimes even from day to day. Today this lady might be selling cigarettes and long underwear, tomorrow she might have bras in all shapes and sizes laid out on an overturned box or hanging from her arms.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAeVLR649lI/AAAAAAAACII/fEBT1kOMxaM/s1600/streetrynok01.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAeVLR649lI/AAAAAAAACII/fEBT1kOMxaM/s400/streetrynok01.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478511492741002834" /></a>There are also the meat sellers. This lady is selling a Ukrainian delicacy: salo, the white layer of fat part along the back of a pig. Here, people salt it and season it, sometimes whip it up so it's creamy. It's actually not too bad - my boys really enjoyed some at a restaurant once, spread on bread like butter. But it is a little shocking to see it sold like this. She was offering small tastes, sliced off with that knife, if you wanted. (I also like that this lady was also selling pickles from a bucket, as well as whole walnuts and beans.)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAeVK90vWUI/AAAAAAAACIA/lJSUMY1VC5I/s1600/streetrynok02.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAeVK90vWUI/AAAAAAAACIA/lJSUMY1VC5I/s400/streetrynok02.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478511487346497858" /></a>The other fun thing we saw the day we were taking pictures on the street were whole rabbits for sale: skinned and gutted, except for the fur left on one foot so that you know it's a rabbit you're getting. Lots of people sell chickens and ducks, too. Sometimes I get a little sad, because of the sense I get that it might be their last chicken and it was what they had to come to town to sell.</div><div><br /></div><div>From a practical standpoint, fruits and vegetables at the rynok are less expensive and always fresher than at the stores here. (A favorite tactic of the supermarkets is to package produce on styrofoam trays to look all fresh and great and when you get home, you see that the whole back side is rotten. Yeah. Nice.) Prices are clearly labeled on everything so you never have to barter or worry that they gave you the "American" price. Once you go a couple of times, other than the stop at the rynok, it doesn't take much longer than shopping the produce section at the store (especially since at the stored here you much get your produce weighed and marked in the produce area - usually a queue that everyone cuts into - before you go to the front checkout stands). </div><div><br /></div><div>I think one of the things I really love about the rynok is the element of surprise - things are sold in unexpected combinations (years ago, you could always count on bananas and frozen chicken feet being at the same stall, every time - I never understood why, but there they were), things come into season between your visits and change the whole display landscape of the place, and you never know the conversations you will overhear (I love it when people tell the vendors that their apples aren't pretty enough to buy). Also, there's not just one type of person who shops at the rynok - it's not upper class or lower class, it's everybody's market. So you see everyone from the toothless weather-worn grandpa in his plaid cap, to the fur and bling-bedecked "new Ukrainian" in patent leather stilettos.</div><div><br /></div><div>Mostly, it is a hugely atmospheric shopping experience that I can't describe adequately. It is entirely different from the yuppy-ish organic farmer's market movement in the U.S., because it is not about "returning" to fresh produce or taking people back to their agricultural roots. It is not a dressed up artisan approach to apples for sale - it is the original, straightforward, we-grow-food-because-people-need-to-eat kind of market. I like the feeling that the people there - buyers and sellers - are real, and that the rynok is integral to their lives. You can read hundreds of stories looking in their faces, at their clothes, smiling at their smiles, and admiring the neat pyramids of eggs or potatoes or pears that they measure up or carry home every day.</div><div><br /></div><div>I think I will miss the rynok more than just about anything else when we move away from here.</div><div><br /></div><div>For something truly beautifully written, the way I wish I could say it, inspired by a rynok in Kiev, check out <a href="http://www.deseretnews.com/article/705354445/Second-place-An-old-Ukrainian-womans-face-haunts-and-transforms-Utah-teen.html?pg=2">this essay</a> by an exceptional young woman I met earlier this year. </div>Code Yellow Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16283426654179102400noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27155002.post-70145187946290620432010-06-01T22:20:00.000+04:002010-06-02T22:39:11.025+04:00Schoolwork Reviewed (and Lots of Things Tossed)I have this great list of things to post about and had a great plan to post every day in June, just to clear my mental blogwebs and be able to move forward and "keep up" and get into the blogging swing of things again, because even if you don't miss reading, I miss writing. I need it. <br /><br />Anyhoo, today was not a good day for all that ambition. I had to go pick Henry up from school because of a diarrhea episode (just a little while after the teachers had helped one of his classmates with a similar situation - bless their souls). <br /><br />I got the two babies to nap this afternoon, but Charlie hadn't been up from his nap for more than thirty minutes when he started vomiting. Calvin came home about thirty minutes later and vomited about thirty minutes after that. <br /><br />I stopped counting after three huge barfs in the space of twenty minutes - literally turning away from one scrub job to see another heaving. The best was probably in the evening when we thought we were all ready to go to bed, David was reading stories and Calvin suddenly jumped up, threw the bowl he was holding "just in case" on the ground, and bolted to the bathroom, only to not make it and create a puddle in the same spot on the bathroom threshold that had already been mopped three times. <br /><br />So, yeah. Maybe it's a sign...of something. Hopefully we can ride this out and all be better tomorrow.<br /><br />But I didn't really want to write about hurling children...<br /><br />Among my other ambitions, I decided to go through the vast amount of pictures and paperwork that Calvin and Henry have created over the past two years and weed it down to the truly precious. I'm a bit of a packrat when it comes to my boys' creations, but realized today that part of what makes something they've created precious is the way they tell me about it when they show me, and how pleased they are. <br /><br />I often think in those moments that I need to keep it forever, when really I just need to <em>be pleased with them</em> for the moment, stick it on the fridge for a little while so others can admire it, and then toss it when the next thing that they are proud of needs some attention. I had so many little drawings and such that at the time meant something to them and/or me, but the boys can't remember what they were about and they mostly look now like anything any kindergartner might do, and neither of the boys have seen or cared about it for months, so why is it still cluttering our life?<br /><br />There are some notable exceptions, which I wanted to record for posterity:<br /><br />This year Calvin wrote his first opinion paper. He chose to tackle Ukrainian politics, mostly because the big elections were happening around the same time and it is what his dad's work is about, and if there's anything Calvin loves, it is to be a part of adult conversation. <br /><br />So he wrote his opinion about the option on Ukrainian election ballots to vote "against all." If you do not want to support any candidate, you can mark the box by "against all." The election was made especially interesting this year because a man in Ukraine actually legally changed his name to "Against All," and there were actually billboards to advertise voting "for" Against All. I think Calvin had the man named "Against All" in mind when he wrote this, because he had asked us if we thought he would make a good president and we told him probably not, he was just trying to take people's votes from the main candidates. Here's what he wrote:<br /><br /><em>My Opinion<br />(voting against all in Ukraine)<br /><br />1. If you vote against all, then you will not get to vote again.<br />2. Another reason is that if you are a thoughtful person, then here is why: it's not fair for anyone else. So that is why you should not vote against all. So pick someone carefully and vote for that person. </em><br /><br />I also think that his mind had actually processed more than he could write, but it mostly just makes me smile that a first grader decided to write about this as opposed to why he likes dogs better than cats or why taking lunch to school is better than eating at the cafeteria. And I hope that it made his teacher smile, too. My favorite line is "if you are a thoughtful person." <br /><br />***<br /><br />I also really like the picture that Henry drew of each member in our family in their own hot air balloon. He said that Dad was in the lowest one because he is the heaviest. Har, har.<br /><br />***<br /><br />And the sad little note across one line of the back of a sheet of paper: "Oooo Lily, I wish you were here."<br /><br />***<br /><br />One of my other favorites of Henry's is a booklet he made at the beginning of the year in which he had to complete the sentence, "I am a...." on several pages and draw an accompanying picture. The first one is "I am a player." The picture is of him with his toy trucks. He is a player, all right.<br /><br />***<br /><br />On another project about people who help in the community, he wrote, "I want to be a carpenter in my community." And his was the only picture in the class drawn with markers and crayons because, he told me, "paints are too frustrating."<br /><br />***<br /><br />One of Calvin's non-school projects is a picture of life on a planet he imagined. It has a pig on a leash tied to a light post and a cigarette in its mouth. He even labeled it, "A pig smoking" and drew a little arrow. OK, then, random. <br /><br />***<br /><br />And then there are his poems. He penned "The Ultimate Poetry Book, by Calvin M." and included this masterpiece: <br /><br /><em>Drill sargeants are mean.<br />Big toads are green.<br />We are not mean or green, <br />Are we?</em><br /><br />***<br /><br />Um, I'm feeling a little green. And mean. Ugh. Not me, too. Blech. Hopefully in 24 hours we'll all be good as new.<br /><br />Here's to something to write about every day in June!Code Yellow Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16283426654179102400noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27155002.post-16410562013265099952010-05-28T23:54:00.005+04:002010-05-29T00:33:48.466+04:00Pictures and CommentaryCould I have come up with a more boring title? I don't think so. That makes me the best at boring. Yay me! Just wanted to share some photos from this week: a little Ukraine, but mostly my children. Calvin is not adequately represented in this commentary, but I will just say that we had a glowing parent teacher conference with his teacher this week. Those are always nice. I like it when people like my kids.<br /><br />So, every summer the city of Kiev turns the hot water off by neighborhood to "clean" the pipes - Soviet era rustifications. I missed this fun tradition last year by going to London to have a baby. I highly recommend that course of action. Our hot water was off for two weeks and while we had a back-up water heater, it only serves the kitchen and the front utility-ish bathroom in which the choice is either to bathe or to squat shower. Yeah, not fun. The hot water in the rest of the house came back on a couple days ago, but it was just today that it didn't look like this anymore:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAAhPnXh8gI/AAAAAAAACHA/NHrAvDjjjnc/s1600/orangewater.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAAhPnXh8gI/AAAAAAAACHA/NHrAvDjjjnc/s400/orangewater.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476413699031953922" /></a><br /><br />Both Calvin and Henry had little performances at their school on Thursday. Henry has a sidekick, Andrei. They adore one another and have the same quirky imaginations and absolutely contagious giggles, and I'm sure are a force for their kindergarten teacher to reckon with. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAAhPHyvdqI/AAAAAAAACG4/ZB75X_rsXYA/s1600/henryandrei2.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAAhPHyvdqI/AAAAAAAACG4/ZB75X_rsXYA/s400/henryandrei2.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476413690556151458" /></a><br /><br />David caught these sweet photos during their "show" that melt my heart. And I'm trying not to think of the sad, sad good-byes coming up for these adorable, spunky little guys in a couple months. It makes my heart hurt.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAAhOszqHbI/AAAAAAAACGw/Vzgb9vouZDc/s1600/henryandrei.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAAhOszqHbI/AAAAAAAACGw/Vzgb9vouZDc/s400/henryandrei.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476413683312238002" /></a><br /><br />In case you were starting to believe that I don't have the interesting "projects" and messes around the house that I once did, I took this photo as evidence. Yes, the carnage is less now that Calvin and Henry are older (and away at school most of the day), but Charlie is doing his best to follow in their footsteps. Today, he built a climbing tower to the top shelf of the drink fridge (it's not big enough to be the food fridge for our family...) while I was nursing Jane. He didn't believe that all the CapriSuns were gone. The blue bin represents wooden train pieces dumped in the bedroom so that it could make a step on the tower. I heard that dumping, and I heard the chairs being dragged across the kitchen floor, but was helpless until I could quietly unlatch Jane and put her in her bed. Charlie is just not as sneaky as the other two. (My favorite is when he calls out from the kitchen or bathroom: "I'm not playing in the water, Mom!!!")<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAAhOMtsflI/AAAAAAAACGo/bp9C8F2mwE8/s1600/charlieproject.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAAhOMtsflI/AAAAAAAACGo/bp9C8F2mwE8/s400/charlieproject.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476413674697293394" /></a><br /><br />Charlie has gone through an amazing growth spurt recently. He got some new clothes that he didn't believe were his until I explained that we bought him some new shirts and pants because his others are just too tiny for a big almost-3-year-old. He came into the living room a couple days ago sporting this sweater on his fingers and wearing a very sad look on his face. "Mom, this got too tiny for me, too." Um, yeah. Like when you were in utero.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAAiKthvYFI/AAAAAAAACHQ/FGzNJGyZO8I/s1600/tootiny.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAAiKthvYFI/AAAAAAAACHQ/FGzNJGyZO8I/s400/tootiny.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476414714297671762" /></a><br /><br />And yes, (in reference to the picture of Charlie and his tiny sweater) I do occasionally comb (and cut!) my children's hair. But it is not my favorite thing to do and it really gets neglected sometimes. And tell me, if your little girl had little duck feather hairs like this, would YOU comb it down?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAAiKL5eBCI/AAAAAAAACHI/nmwljv50G3g/s1600/janejane.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAAiKL5eBCI/AAAAAAAACHI/nmwljv50G3g/s400/janejane.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476414705270391842" /></a><br /><br />Lastly, Henry made me take a picture of this marshmallow monstrosity of a treat that his dad let him eat for breakfast the other day. You know why he wanted it photographed? Because the bite of chocolate he took left a little white heart on the side of it. How cute is that? <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAAhNU4LwLI/AAAAAAAACGg/qdxxEZ18r4k/s1600/heart.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/TAAhNU4LwLI/AAAAAAAACGg/qdxxEZ18r4k/s400/heart.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476413659708899506" /></a><br /><br />I heart my children.Code Yellow Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16283426654179102400noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27155002.post-30309423386272415502010-05-14T17:30:00.005+04:002010-07-17T19:03:34.397+04:00The Jane: Nine Months OldHere it is...<br /><br />The pictures weren't as good this time, I didn't think - I had a hard time with natural light and then, too, Jane has become a very busy moving little target. But you can't hardly take a terrible picture of her anyway, I don't suppose.<br /><br />Her hair is decidedly yellowy-white (isn't that a nice decided color?), even though it used to have more red. It is starting to get long enough for maybe some accessorizing. We're working on that. I'm letting the girl in me out and we'll see what happens.<br /><br />Jane has all the cleverness and all the spiciness of all three of her brothers put together, plus an ample bit of girly dramatic flare. I'm afraid (and I do mean afraid) that she will likely be walking before she's ten months old. I have not encouraged that.<br /><br />I've said it before, but I'll say it again: I'm in for it. She's top of the class at Get Exactly What You Want U.<br /><br />It's because she is so squidgy and sweet, too. Amazing how someone so exhausting can be so delightful all at the same time.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S-1T0a9OqQI/AAAAAAAACGY/jiCChttUx_s/s1600/Jane9mos09.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 287px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S-1T0a9OqQI/AAAAAAAACGY/jiCChttUx_s/s400/Jane9mos09.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471121282379458818" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S-1TzTrimtI/AAAAAAAACGI/7i-om0_LSfM/s1600/Jane9mos07.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S-1TzTrimtI/AAAAAAAACGI/7i-om0_LSfM/s400/Jane9mos07.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471121263246351058" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S-1Ty2iaeaI/AAAAAAAACGA/P1aKfoS5Hdk/s1600/Jane9mos06.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S-1Ty2iaeaI/AAAAAAAACGA/P1aKfoS5Hdk/s400/Jane9mos06.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471121255423441314" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S-1TBOwbCYI/AAAAAAAACF4/TZq5DcOCHTE/s1600/Jane9mos05.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S-1TBOwbCYI/AAAAAAAACF4/TZq5DcOCHTE/s400/Jane9mos05.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471120402931190146" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S-1TAlGqbMI/AAAAAAAACFw/FTfiSFMK3V4/s1600/Jane9mos04.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S-1TAlGqbMI/AAAAAAAACFw/FTfiSFMK3V4/s400/Jane9mos04.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471120391750184130" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S-1TABNkjmI/AAAAAAAACFo/Fy11XAKtFmo/s1600/Jane9mos02.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S-1TABNkjmI/AAAAAAAACFo/Fy11XAKtFmo/s400/Jane9mos02.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471120382115483234" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S-1S_wwMHGI/AAAAAAAACFg/A_00xEb8Xxg/s1600/Jane9mos03.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S-1S_wwMHGI/AAAAAAAACFg/A_00xEb8Xxg/s400/Jane9mos03.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471120377697279074" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S-1S_v_L1bI/AAAAAAAACFY/hCFCdEGAT3A/s1600/Jane9mos01.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 285px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S-1S_v_L1bI/AAAAAAAACFY/hCFCdEGAT3A/s400/Jane9mos01.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471120377491740082" /></a><br /><br />I actually can't believe it's been nine whole months since she came into our world. Why does every baby grow faster than the last?Code Yellow Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16283426654179102400noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27155002.post-4428983621076010512010-05-09T22:58:00.002+04:002010-05-09T23:19:05.893+04:00I'm a SlugUm, it's nearly the middle of May. And that means my baby is another month older. And it seems that my blog is becoming pretty much just her, every month, in the same tutu. It's a cute tutu and she's a cute girl, but shoot. What is wrong with me?<br /><br />Don't answer that.<br /><br />I had in mind to tell loads and loads about Portugal, and it hasn't happened yet. We were there a month ago. How can that be? You should not wait on me for the travel highlights (as much as I really would like to give them), but go check out <a href="http://gypsy-joe.blogspot.com/2010/04/portugal.html">Joeli's post</a> about it. She's got the highlights there and some fun photos. Also, you should go to Portugal if ever you can. It truly is one of Europe's best kept secrets. And you should try queijadas in Sintra while you are there.<br /><br />Joeli left this week and I miss her.<br /><br />We are leaving Ukraine in a little less than four months and I have super mixed feelings. I have been known to say that we are moving back to the U.S. "not soon enough, 2010," but then again, there are a lot of really amazing things and a lot of perks that I have enjoyed here that will be over once we go back. Plus, there are people I love here. Some have also started moving on, but many will stay here, and good-byes are really sad.<br /><br />It will also be not too long before I have to really consider logistics of packing, organizing, transitioning. Buy or rent? New family car or new commuter car? I'm really not good at change or big decisions that have to be made all at once. I feel like I used to be good at it, even invited it, but I think the older I am and the more little people there are who look to me for security, the less I really go for change. I roll with it, but always in retrospect I realize that I go more than a little Elphaba every time we pick up and have to resettle. <br /><br />So I think right now I'm kinda in a "if you can't say anything pleasant, don't say anything at all" funk. Bear with me until I get my glasses for the brighter side fixed. <br /><br />And enjoy the cute girl in the tutu.Code Yellow Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16283426654179102400noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27155002.post-71690088843587675892010-05-07T09:35:00.001+04:002010-05-07T15:41:41.850+04:00Alone TimeThe other day Calvin was in need of some wind-down, chill-out, get a hold of yourself time, which I suggested he take in his room, far away from the living room, where "everyone was frustrating him."<br /><br />He responded by turning a little red and saying with barely controlled extreme exasparation: "<span style="font-style:italic;">That</span> will not help <span style="font-style:italic;">anything</span>! Because as soon as <span style="font-style:italic;">I</span> go to <span style="font-style:italic;">that</span> end of the house, it will be <span style="font-style:italic;">occupied</span> by <span style="font-style:italic;">them</span>, because they <span style="font-style:italic;">migrate</span> to wherever <span style="font-style:italic;">someone </span>is."<br /><br />And when I started laughing at the word "occupied" and harder at the word "migrate" and harder every time he waved his hand in a gesture toward "them," he pretty much screamed at me, "<span style="font-style:italic;">Why</span> is <span style="font-style:italic;">any</span> of this <span style="font-style:italic;">funny</span>?"<br /><br />I don't know. You tell me.Code Yellow Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16283426654179102400noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27155002.post-79627117784524316982010-04-24T22:04:00.004+04:002010-04-24T22:28:32.223+04:00Home Again, Home Again...Um. You probably know already that I love our camera. We used it a lot - and I mean, a lot - on our vacation. <br /><br />Which is wonderful and awful all at the same time. <br /><br />I won't tell you how many pictures we snapped, but it is also the number of pictures that I need to look through, edit, label and post. <br /><br />Trust me, it is a quantity that I'm sure even those of you who really, really love me and my children, do NOT want to look through <span style="font-style:italic;">until</span> they are edited in some fashion.<br /><br />But Portugal was amazing and beautiful and we all had a pretty great time. I will try to share in bits and pieces over the next little while, as I sort through photos and the laundry.<br /><br />I am working on a whole series of "You Should Live Here" posts before we don't live here anymore, too, so stay with me. It will probably be more quantity than quality, but I will try to make it at least a tiny bit as enthralling as the Oceanarium was to my kids: <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S9M3gP4lNWI/AAAAAAAACFQ/a_TkaK8za9M/s1600/oceanario1.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S9M3gP4lNWI/AAAAAAAACFQ/a_TkaK8za9M/s400/oceanario1.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463771800089736546" /></a>Code Yellow Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16283426654179102400noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27155002.post-79435130450776715922010-04-23T16:59:00.005+04:002010-07-17T19:03:19.510+04:00The Jane: Eight Months OldJane had her eight-month photo shoot while we vacationed in Portugal...<div><br /></div><div>She's crawling for real now, and pulls up to just about anything pretty fearlessly. Her feathery little hairs are getting longer and stand straight up most of the time, despite Aunt Jo's efforts at taming them. She is feisty and remains devoted to Muhmuhmuhmummm (which is truly what she calls me!), although she has taken to saying, "Papapapapapapapah" in a grainy little voice. She is working hard at cutting two top teeth (hence the slobbery front in many of the pics) and pretty much wants to eat whatever we are eating -she screeches and twists in her chair when she even sees baby food coming. Her sleep routine is getting worse instead of better, but it is hard to resist her insistence on snuggling. Ah well.</div><div><br /></div><div>And without further adieu...Jane in her tutu on the beach:</div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S9GduXAtJrI/AAAAAAAACE4/PbP-JNucT5w/s1600/Jane8mos06.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S9GduXAtJrI/AAAAAAAACE4/PbP-JNucT5w/s400/Jane8mos06.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463321242753640114" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S9GdvBpDcAI/AAAAAAAACFI/tBf_RmyPeDI/s1600/Jane8mos08.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S9GdvBpDcAI/AAAAAAAACFI/tBf_RmyPeDI/s400/Jane8mos08.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463321254197161986" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S9GduLrgRMI/AAAAAAAACEw/hHsGt75sZ5Q/s1600/Jane8mos05.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S9GduLrgRMI/AAAAAAAACEw/hHsGt75sZ5Q/s400/Jane8mos05.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463321239711925442" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S9GcINczuyI/AAAAAAAACEo/Iou136kjrsI/s1600/Jane8mos04.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S9GcINczuyI/AAAAAAAACEo/Iou136kjrsI/s400/Jane8mos04.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463319487840500514" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S9GcHoqN3dI/AAAAAAAACEg/A0IuHcf2JxQ/s1600/Jane8mos03.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S9GcHoqN3dI/AAAAAAAACEg/A0IuHcf2JxQ/s400/Jane8mos03.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463319477964627410" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S9GcHUyZQPI/AAAAAAAACEY/4gIT3bA1_6o/s1600/Jane8mos02.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 285px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S9GcHUyZQPI/AAAAAAAACEY/4gIT3bA1_6o/s400/Jane8mos02.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463319472630218994" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S9Gdu9u57dI/AAAAAAAACFA/YrRSQdk3NIA/s1600/Jane8mos07.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S9Gdu9u57dI/AAAAAAAACFA/YrRSQdk3NIA/s400/Jane8mos07.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463321253147962834" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S9GcG48Q9OI/AAAAAAAACEQ/OlvwpDFShv4/s1600/Jane8mos01.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S9GcG48Q9OI/AAAAAAAACEQ/OlvwpDFShv4/s400/Jane8mos01.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463319465155425506" /></a>Code Yellow Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16283426654179102400noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27155002.post-63526938646859547162010-03-25T17:55:00.003+03:002010-03-25T18:21:50.723+03:00The Fine Art of Air QuotesYou know, air quotes - the first two fingers of both hands curled in rabbit ears to emphasize the irony of the word to which you add the gesture. Calvin has used them before, much to our amusement at his unique and innocent understanding of their use. He has lately expanded his talent to include sarcasm, mostly directed toward or in conversation with his dad.<br /><br />Picture a seven-year-old paussing just enough to get his little rabbit ear fingers up in quote marks and raise his eyebrows at the indicated word in the following conversations...<br /><br /><strong>Example #1:</strong> Last night at bedtime.<br /><br /><strong>Calvin and Henry:</strong> Please, dad...please, please, please...we need a drink.<br /><br /><strong>David:</strong> You guys already got your drink. Just lay down and go to sleep.<br /><br /><strong>Calvin and Henry:</strong> Please. We need more. We're thirsty!! (etc., etc.,)<br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>David:</strong> Fine. Lay down and I'll bring you a drink.<br /><em></em><br /><em>(He brings back a small bit of water in the bottom of a glass so they can each have a sip - they honestly did not need anything to drink and too much to drink leads to extra bathroom trips...you know how it is...)</em><br /><br /><strong>Calvin:</strong> <em>(After having his half of the sip)</em> Yeah, Dad. Thanks for the..."drink."<br /><br /><strong>Example #2: </strong>This morning while getting ready to go to school.<br /><br /><strong>Calvin:</strong> Can I please wear my light coat instead of my winter one? It's warm enough and I sweat too much at recess.<br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>David:</strong> I guess that's fine. If it's cold today, though, you'll want to wear the heavy coat tomorrow.<br /><br /><strong>Calvin:</strong> Yeah. I don't think I'll need the winter coat anymore. It's getting warmer and warmer. And when it's spring and not just... "spring," I won't have to wear a coat at all anymore!<br /><br />It really is fairly hilarious. I just have two questions. Where does a little boy get this stuff? And, is it spring... or "spring"... where you are?Code Yellow Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16283426654179102400noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27155002.post-11285821571887707282010-03-24T10:08:00.000+03:002010-03-24T17:27:33.495+03:00You Should Live Here: Candy and AlcoholOK, people. This is one of the posts I have been wanting to write since we moved to Ukraine, but it has been waiting for photographic support. Thanks to my intrepid sister sidekick, I finally have some shots to share depicting one of my favorite things about grocery stores here: the extensive variety of alcoholic beverages and sweet treats. <br /><br />You may wonder that a Mormon girl is so taken with the alcoholic beverages for sale, but I can assure that I only look. It is truly a phenomenon, the array and sheer quantity of wines, coolers, and vodkas that is in every grocery. We are talking multiple shelves, crates, and aisles of it all. <br /><br />Now, I understand that most states I've lived in have had laws about what a grocery store can sell, so perhaps it only makes sense that what would usually be in a separate store in the US is included in a grocery store here, but still. I just think it's astounding at the stock they maintain. The following pictures are taken in one store (our love-to-hate MegaMarket), and I feel that this pretty much says it all about the priorities of the average Ukrainian consumer:<br /><br />Aisle one of alcoholic beverages...(keep in mind that in each one of these photos, you are only seeing the facing side of the aisle - there is a side of the aisle to the right and behind the photographer)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S6nzqMrlGrI/AAAAAAAACDI/bBFZPLpFyVo/s1600/beverages01.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S6nzqMrlGrI/AAAAAAAACDI/bBFZPLpFyVo/s400/beverages01.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452156730192763570" /></a><br /><br />Aisle two of alcoholic beverages...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S6nzqk14YtI/AAAAAAAACDQ/Y9qCkfRMV0g/s1600/beverages02.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S6nzqk14YtI/AAAAAAAACDQ/Y9qCkfRMV0g/s400/beverages02.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452156736678421202" /></a><br /><br />Three...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S6nzq49G61I/AAAAAAAACDY/BMJazu5fuOY/s1600/beverages03.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S6nzq49G61I/AAAAAAAACDY/BMJazu5fuOY/s400/beverages03.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452156742077442898" /></a><br /><br />And four...(Captured from the top of Joeli's purse, after we were told that cameras are not allowed in the store. Ooops.)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S6nzrcI4OfI/AAAAAAAACDg/9aLcaRVzXoE/s1600/beverages04.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S6nzrcI4OfI/AAAAAAAACDg/9aLcaRVzXoE/s400/beverages04.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452156751522052594" /></a><br /><br />And to accompany your drinks, you must have sweets. Now here, I have more experience. There is never shortage of cookies, chocolates, taffies, hard candies, and other sweets. It is truly amazing. <br /><br />I give you Aisle One of cookies, candies and other confections...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S6n6DsQpg6I/AAAAAAAACEI/XVfQv_uN-KI/s1600/sweets01.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S6n6DsQpg6I/AAAAAAAACEI/XVfQv_uN-KI/s400/sweets01.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452163765236237218" /></a><br /><br />Aisle two of sweets...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S6n6DXKwuDI/AAAAAAAACEA/IakKbHcBAY4/s1600/sweets02.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S6n6DXKwuDI/AAAAAAAACEA/IakKbHcBAY4/s400/sweets02.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452163759574399026" /></a><br /><br />And three (the opposite side of aisle two, but it's an extra wide aisle)...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S6n6Cw7tSzI/AAAAAAAACD4/2KMHWqNXqKU/s1600/sweets03.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S6n6Cw7tSzI/AAAAAAAACD4/2KMHWqNXqKU/s400/sweets03.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452163749310712626" /></a><br /><br />And four...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S6n6CRCt1EI/AAAAAAAACDw/ZIJ_OTRsdKs/s1600/sweets04.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S6n6CRCt1EI/AAAAAAAACDw/ZIJ_OTRsdKs/s400/sweets04.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452163740750173250" /></a><br /><br />And five...Yes, FIVE aisles of sweet treats!! And did you notice toward the back of the store? That's a small pastry cafe which also sells bulk candy from a whole wall of bins full of it.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S6n6B26my0I/AAAAAAAACDo/d6QtHWLnWxs/s1600/sweets05.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S6n6B26my0I/AAAAAAAACDo/d6QtHWLnWxs/s400/sweets05.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452163733736835906" /></a><br /><br />My cleaning lady says that every Ukrainian has a sweet tooth. What do you say? <br /><br />So, as you can see, what is normally one of my least enjoyable tasks (grocery shopping) is really an intoxicating and sweet experience here in Ukraine.<br /><br />In the next day or two, I will have another long-awaited post on grocery shopping for you about my favorite place on the planet: the rynok. I hope you will love it as much as I do.Code Yellow Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16283426654179102400noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27155002.post-40434625210626834672010-03-22T14:33:00.000+03:002010-03-22T17:43:29.486+03:00Spring Reading Thing<center><a href="http://callapidderdays.com/2010/03/coming-soon-spring-reading-thing-2010.html"><img src="http://i104.photobucket.com/albums/m185/callapidderdays/SRT10_sm.jpg" /></a></center><br />I'm joining in with the <a href="http://callapidderdays.com/2010/03/spring-reading-thing-2010-start-reading.html">Spring Reading Thing</a> again! I really like having a goal to work toward and a record of the reading I accomplish. It's fun to see what others are reading and to see different books from so many different viewpoints. It helps my "to-read" list diversify and make me feel like I am on my way to being "well-read." Plus, it eases me get out of the winter funk and makes that fun transition into sunshiny weather even better. So, thanks, Katrina, for hosting the Spring Thing!<br /><br />The perameter of the books I chose to read for this spring's Reading Thing had only one stipulation: I had to have the book on my shelf <span style="font-style:italic;">as we speak</span>.<br /><br />(We'll be moving back to the States in August, and um, books are <span style="font-style:italic;">heavy</span>. I've gone a tiny bit crazy ordering books while we've lived in Kiev because there is no library here and the type of books on the "free" shelf at the embassy aren't always what I'm looking for. But I have to stop ordering or we'll be sunk on our weight allowance for freight going back.)<br /><br />So, I committed to read some of the good books that I already own. My list is basically one book a week for the twelve weeks of the challenge and includes a pretty good mix of light reads, deeper reads that I've been meaning to wade into for a long time, and a re-read or two of books that I'd like to digest a little better this time around.<div><br /><div><div id="gr_grid_widget_1269200453"><div class="gr_grid_container"> <div class="gr_grid_book_container"><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/24407.Poetry_180_A_Turning_Back_to_Poetry" title="Poetry 180: A Turning Back to Poetry"><img alt="Poetry 180: A Turning Back to Poetry" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1167521997m/24407.jpg" /></a> <i>Poetry 180</i> - I'm interested in this anthology because it was compiled by one of my favorite poets ever - Billy Collins. I want to see what he recommends. I also like reading a poem a day and just thinking on it. I might stretch my reading of this book over the whole spring, savoring my favorites as I go.</div><div><br /></div><br /> <div class="gr_grid_book_container"><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/3287692.Son_of_a_Witch" title="Son of a Witch (Volume Two in the Wicked Years)"><img alt="Son of a Witch" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1255675220m/3287692.jpg" /></a> <i>Son of a Witch</i> - I've been on a bit of a Gregory Maguire kick the past few months. Thoroughly enjoyed <i>Wicked</i>, loved <i>Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister</i>, thought <i>What-the-Dickens</i> was interesting, and didn't entirely enjoy <i>Matchless</i>. We'll see how this one goes. I'm learning that Maguire is a good read if you don't expect everything to be tied up nicely at the end. His books are more about enjoying the telling of the tale. He does create some delectable and startling and unforgettable scenes and situations. So I'm continuing my delve into his work.</div><br /> <div class="gr_grid_book_container"><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/246844.Grace_Based_Parenting" title="Grace-Based Parenting"><img alt="Grace-Based Parenting" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1173112018m/246844.jpg" /></a><i>Grace-Based Parenting</i> - I read this book a couple of months ago and can't stop thinking of the principles behind it. I want to re-read and try to digest and study and internalize and apply it better this time.</div><br /> <div class="gr_grid_book_container"><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/121732.Surprised_By_Joy" title="Surprised By Joy "><img alt="Surprised By Joy" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1171834912m/121732.jpg" /></a> <i>Surprised By Joy</i> - This is one that has long been on my list and for some reason I neglect. I love how Lewis thinks and writes, so I really want to see this one through.</div><br /> <div class="gr_grid_book_container"><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/1832568.The_Venetian_Mask_A_Novel" title="The Venetian Mask: A Novel"><img alt="The Venetian Mask: A Novel" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1266906080m/1832568.jpg" /></a> <i>The Venetian Mask</i> - The setting and premise of this book sounds intriguing and I've like other Rosalind Laker books. I'll think this will be my sit by the ocean and read book while in Portugal</div><br /> <div class="gr_grid_book_container"><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/6898955-the-cello-suites" title="The Cello Suites: J. S. Bach, Pablo Casals, and the Search for a Baroque Masterpiece"><img alt="The Cello Suites: J. S. Bach, Pablo Casals, and the Search for a Baroque Masterpiece" border="0" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51Do7jMi4YL._SX106_.jpg" /></a> <i>The Cello Suites</i> - Here's where I make a confession. I read <i>The Economist</i>, but not the whole magazine - that's David's more cerebral domain. I read the book reviews and the obituary in each issue. Then when David says he read a great review of a book he'd like to read, if it's a book that also appealed to me, I order it "for him." Then I put it on my to-read list. That's what <i>The Cello Suites</i> is. By all accounts, it's an amazing book. And I can't wait. Maybe I will even steal it from David before he finishes it.</div><br /> <div class="gr_grid_book_container"><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/45183.The_Enchanted_Castle" title="The Enchanted Castle (Puffin Classics)"><img alt="The Enchanted Castle" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1170275001m/45183.jpg" /></a> <i>The Enchanted Castle </i>- Just have to throw in some good classic storytelling and fantasy to lighten my reading load a bit.</div><div class="gr_grid_book_container"><br /></div> <div class="gr_grid_book_container"><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/854423.Resurrection" title="Resurrection (Oxford World's Classics)"><img alt="Resurrection" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1178924160m/854423.jpg" /></a><img src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1266454395m/28348.jpg" alt="Crime and Punishment" /> <i>Resurrection</i> and <i>Crime and Punishment</i> - Can I really live in a Slavic country without reading some Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky? I think not.</div><div class="gr_grid_book_container"><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/854423.Resurrection" title="Resurrection (Oxford World's Classics)"></a></div><br /> <div class="gr_grid_book_container"><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/875085.Zorro" title="Zorro"><img alt="Zorro" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1179104130m/875085.jpg" /></a> <i>Zorro</i> - Another author chase. I like Isabel Allende, so I thought I'd check this one out.</div><br /> <div class="gr_grid_book_container"><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/10907.The_Pursuit_of_Happyness" title="The Pursuit of Happyness"><img alt="The Pursuit of Happyness" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1166338904m/10907.jpg" /></a> <i>The Pursuit of Happyness </i>- Loved the movie, wanted to read the real story.</div><br /> <div class="gr_grid_book_container"><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/15997.Paradise_Lost" title="Paradise Lost"><img alt="Paradise Lost" border="0" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1266451406m/15997.jpg" /></a><i>Paradise Lost</i> - This has been on my list about three times. Maybe my main goal should be to read this no matter what. We'll see.</div><div class="gr_grid_book_container"><br /></div><div class="gr_grid_book_container">I'll try to post my progress and/or reviews every week or two...Happy Spring and Happy Reading!</div><br /></div></div></div></div>Code Yellow Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16283426654179102400noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27155002.post-11226437436102607012010-03-19T10:15:00.001+03:002010-03-19T22:48:14.045+03:00Drops DrippedThere is a scene after rain in <em>War and Peace </em>that Tolstoy describes by writing, "капли капали." (Pronounced roughly, "KAHP-lee KAHP-a-lee.") The most literal translation is, "Drops dripped." Some translators have felt perhaps that the sentence didn't say enough and sometimes change it to say that <em>trees</em> or <em>branches </em>were dripping. <br /><br />But I think Tolstoy was trying to capture a different feeling - it wasn't just trees, it was <em>everything</em>...<em>drops</em> dripped, from unseen origins to unseen and subtle splashes. I think that's what he meant to convey, because that's exactly what happens after a rainstorm, or in springtime, especially after a long and icey winter. And while the alliteration in English also works nicely to describe the feeling, I really like the musicality of the Russian. капли капали.<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S6PQOvpW9yI/AAAAAAAACCI/I83z9x61bXo/s1600-h/drops.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S6PQOvpW9yI/AAAAAAAACCI/I83z9x61bXo/s400/drops.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450428925775116066" /></a><br />The first time I heard that sound, though I didn't know the Russian onomatopeia then to go with it, was in Rexburg, Idaho, where the streets had been packed in snow six inches higher than usual for six months or more, the first winter I went to college there. One morning in early spring when winter was about to make us all crazy, I took my journal out onto the front balcony to write and soak up what little sun we could feel. It was an odd and exhilarating feeling to feel 50 or 60 degrees of sunshine on my face and hands and bare feet but look around and see that most everything was still covered with snow and ice. Then I listened, and I heard it: drops dripping. Rivulets trickling under the cracking ice in the parking lot. The sound of sun dissolving winter. Melting. That was one of my favorite sensory experiences ever.<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S6PQQSsjNxI/AAAAAAAACCg/1C7dzcCEb00/s1600-h/drops03.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S6PQQSsjNxI/AAAAAAAACCg/1C7dzcCEb00/s400/drops03.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450428952363611922" /></a><br />I walked outside today and again, though the sun wasn't quite that warm, all the same, капли капали - that was the sound, if I listened hard enough over cars and footsteps on the city streets. Things are melting, dripping, breaking up, cracking through, running down...<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S6PQPl81GyI/AAAAAAAACCY/9krnWles35s/s1600-h/drops02.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 278px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S6PQPl81GyI/AAAAAAAACCY/9krnWles35s/s400/drops02.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450428940352297762" /></a><br />My reason for going out today was a call from David shortly after he left to walk to work. "You've got to take your camera out and get pictures of the icicles on the building down the street! One of them is seriously six feet long. It reached all the way from the roof to the balcony below it! The temperatures must have been just right yesterday for icicles like that. And all the icicles next to it are evenly spaced, like a curtain coming down from the eaves." <br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S6PQPK7q4KI/AAAAAAAACCQ/610fNktoQlU/s1600-h/drops01.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S6PQPK7q4KI/AAAAAAAACCQ/610fNktoQlU/s400/drops01.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450428933099675810" /></a><br />I like that my husband notices things like that and calls to share. Of course, he noticed them today because someone yelled at him about not walking under a building with icicles like that (a true and serious fear of Kievans, we've discovered), but still...<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S6PQQ3VjD6I/AAAAAAAACCo/5owLA0LkOC0/s1600-h/drops05.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S6PQQ3VjD6I/AAAAAAAACCo/5owLA0LkOC0/s400/drops05.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450428962199244706" /></a><br />I went out and snapped a few photos. They are not the best photographic effort, but the icicles were pretty amazing - most of them at least an inch or two around at the roofline and tapering so gradually into such long frozen spears. Plus, it was just nice to mark that spring and winter are having their last battle before the months of sunshine: spring makes drips drop, while winter works more slowly now to thwart their thaw.<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S6PSKEJ00WI/AAAAAAAACC4/jwtmRjkNjyE/s1600-h/drops06.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 284px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S6PSKEJ00WI/AAAAAAAACC4/jwtmRjkNjyE/s400/drops06.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450431044403908962" /></a><br /><br />***<br /><br />In a less poetic sidenote, you can't help but notice the construction of these buildings, can you, Uncle Scott? It never ceases to amaze me.<br /><br />And for added interest: when spring first started happening this year, the sidewalks (which are often impassable because of cars and more recently because of plowed drifts) started being blocked and marked by ribbons tied to stakes. I could not figure out what it was about. But it's a sign all natives know, and they will be sure to tell you about it if you dare to walk within the ribbon: Falling ice. <br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S6PSKlj2uaI/AAAAAAAACDA/XeOKQITUENE/s1600-h/fallingice.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WEOhVVhZYF0/S6PSKlj2uaI/AAAAAAAACDA/XeOKQITUENE/s400/fallingice.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450431053371455906" /></a><br />Those icicles come sliding off the corrugated metal once enough water has slickened things ups for them on the roof, and crash! They are on the sidewalk, or your head, or through your shoulder blades. David says that three to five people die in Kiev every year from such a thing. So yield to the stakes and ribbon. And whatever you do, don't let your children cross under them. What kind of a parent are you, anyway? I love that people say that out loud to people they don't even know. Hey, my kids are their kids. It's awesome.Code Yellow Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16283426654179102400noreply@blogger.com3