Madeline's Got Game

Four years ago, when Madeline first started playing basketball, she couldn't throw the ball up high enough to reach the hoop--a fairly serious disability. She was all defense, no offense. I took up basketball just a few years ago and can completely relate--my team contribution is to pass the ball to someone who can make a basket. And so Madeline was my basketball soul sister. But no more. My girl's got her game on.

Competetive and focused--yet less likely than her mother to argue with a ref or get into tiffs.

Making the lay-ups--I can't figure out the footwork

And look at the girl who couldn't get the ball to the basket now making the outside jump shot! Even her brother was impressed. "Madeline's got AIR!"

If I play my cards right, she may give me private lessons. And a back rub after.

Aging Gracefully

My Madeline turned twelve in October, which puts her on that teetering edge between childhood and teen-dom. There was no trip to Toys-R-Us for her Christmas presents this year. She wanted an i-Pod and jewelry and lip gloss. This has put me in a bit of a funk. I've resigned myself to the fact that Adam is now a full-on adolescent, but I'm not quite ready to let Madeline make that leap.

I think it's because she was arguably the cutest little curly-headed girl ever. She could have been a modern-day Shirley Temple. She had the hair, the voice, the personality. But she's grown out of her tap shoes and now this weekend she went to the salon and asked them to straighten her hair. The last bit of Shirley Temple gone.



It wasn't chemically altered (that would have killed me), they just used big brushes and hair products and a straightening iron, but it still felt like a moment. And along with the hair and i-pod and earrings, I've been seeing hints of the twelve-year-old insecurities and moodiness--stuff I never thought I'd see in my ultra-confident Madeline. But still, she's making that childhood to adolescent leap so beautifully and gracefully.

I, on the other hand, did not. I've included a small grouping along with my twelve-year-old school picture, because I think it's important to show that 1984 was a bad year all-around.

So, Madeline, if you can make twelve look good, which you do, you're pretty much set for the rest of your life. And do you know what? Shirley Temple traded in her tap shoes to become a U.S. ambassador and diplomat. She knew there was more to her than just the curls-- something you've known all along.

Duh, Mom.

Here We Come A-Caroling

This past week we've had the car radio tuned to a Christmas-round-the-clock station. Since I spend a large part of my day in the car, the tunes have been recycled numerous times and I've learned a few things:

*The Muppets singing the Twelve Days of Christmas is just funny. Actually, I don't know if it's the song or just Maya's reaction. She nearly hyperventilates at Miss Piggy's "FIVE GOLD RINGS..." Throw in Beaker on the Lords A-Leaping and the poor girl's beside herself.

*Abby has a strange affinity for "Santa Baby" which scares me somewhat.

*Madeline is all about the traditional. Santa Baby indeed. Give her Oh Holy Night and the Hallelujah Chorus.

*Adam rolls his eyes at Christmas songs but then hums them in the kitchen.

*The line "The logs on the fire fill me with desire...." makes me laugh every time.

*The Carpenters seem to have produced a whole lotta' Christmas songs. Ditto with Tony Bennett.

*And have you heard The Christmas Shoes? Based on the number of times it's cycled around our Seattle area station (way more than the Muppets Twelve Days of Christmas if you can believe that) it must be big. Call me Scrooge, but is it just a little too much effort to pull at the heartstrings? I find it rather gaggy.

So, there's a full docket of errand-running on my schedule today and if I'm lucky I might hear the Muppets. What song are you hoping to hear? Or not?

Oh, and speaking of Christmas songs, guess who WON our local caroling competition? That would be my girls, raising over 600 dollars for the food bank. Now that's some serious caroling. And see, on occassion Abby can part with money.

Take it up with the Etruscans

I was wondering who I could blame for the annual cry-fest of the wishbone breaking contest. We have never had it end well. Did the Pilgrims start this nonsense? After creating a great four day weekend of giving thanks are they to blame for muddying the water with a competition that pits sibling against sibling? A competition where one child gets their wish and one child......well better luck next year?

As it turns out, the Pilgrims were innocent. It was the poultry-worshipping Etruscans about 2500 years ago. They were quite sure that domestic fowl had fortune-telling capabilities and they used chickens as precursors to our modern day Ouija boards. They drew a large circle in the dirt and divided it into twenty parts, each part representing a letter of the Etruscan alphabet. Then they scattered grain and set their feathered fortune teller to work. Soothsayers eagerly copied down the letters chosen by the hungry birds and tried to find deeper meaning in their pecking.

When a sacred chicken was killed, its clavicle was laid in the sun to dry. The Etruscans liked the clavicle because it was shaped, well -- I don't really like to go in this direction on the blog, but here it is -- it was shaped like a human crotch and so it represented the repository of life. Understandably, a dried chicken clavicle was a pretty lucky thing to have. People touched it for good luck and made wishes on its magical powers, dubbing it the wishbone. But not everyone was lucky enough to have a wishbone and scarcity brought out some unfortunate behaviors: fighting, wrestling, hair pulling, toga yanking. In the scuffle, understandably, a wishbone or two was broken. And so the wishbone breaking tradition was born. The Etruscans passed it on to the Romans who passed it on to the British, who brought it over on the Mayflower. Imagine the thrill of the Pilgrims when they found turkeys--fowls with wishbones big enough to turn any Etruscan green with envy.

So, without further ado, the wishbone breaking of 2008. Our kids have a hard time waiting 4-6 days and we've found the microwave can significantly speed up the drying process. Alas, Abby, our child who jumped around all morning wondering if the wishbone was ready because she had some good wishes, did not get a lucky break. And yes, that term comes courtesy of the Etruscans; the Etruscans and their wishbone breaking ways.

Better luck next year Abby.

What's Black and White and Red All Over?

That would be Cruella DeVille.

Her alter-ego, Madeline, is my Halloween nemesis. She's normally such a sweet and easy-going gal but Halloween brings out some OC tendencies that she keeps hidden the rest of the year. She plans her costumes well in advance down to the very last detail. Off-the-rack costumes? No how, no way. The year she went as Sacajawea, she was holed up in her bedroom beading a headdress for most of the month of October. The year she wanted to go with an Asian theme, I suggested Mulan (quick, easy, at the Disney Store), and she scoffed at it. She had created a character named "Lotus Blossom" who had a whole history that Madeline would somehow be representing in costume.


So this year when she said she wanted to be Cruella DeVille, I was so relieved. A Disney costume! Thank you Madeline! She took it upon herself to find the wig on-line and I procrastinated until 3 days before Halloween to find the rest of the costume. Who would have guessed that there is NO Cruella DeVille wear to be found? Not even a Cruella pattern. I suggested a Dalmatian-patterned scarf. Madeline wanted a lined coat. We compromised with this full-length cape. The red fur was the most awful stuff I've ever worked with. But she was pleased.


Moving on to our more reasonable trick-or-treaters. Here is child who doesn't need to be Lotus Blossom, but is perfectly happy being run-of-the-mill Mulan:

Abby wanted to dye her hair black for the night. I was told by the woman at the costume shop that this spray-on hair color would be easier. NEVER AGAIN!

And the smallest one was Madeline. Not to be confused with her sister, Made"lyn", this is MadeLINE. The little girl from Paris.

They made for an interesting trio. As is always the case in Western Washington, we prayed for no rain. It had rained all day long but stopped in time for trick-or-treating. We did have to deal with our muddy dirt road but at least we didn't need umbrellas. Of which, surprisingly, we have none.

Maya Qiu looks truly stunned by her impressive candy-haul. Note, this is the home of teenage boys. Notice the pumpkin on the porch who they said had eaten too much candy. I have a feeling my teenage boy (this year's candy hander-outer) will be re-creating that at our house next year.

"She was not afraid of mice. She loved winter, snow and ice and to the tigers in the zoo, Madeline just said Pooh Pooh." But the jack-o-lanterns in the window are a little scary.

When the other trick-or-treaters got ahead of her, which was always, Maya would say, "Mom, hold my hat please" and off she'd sprint. I offered to carry her goody bag too, but she hugged it close to her chest and said, "I CAN DO IT MYSELF!" Yikes. This girl knows where her Halloween priorities lie.

And so does her dad, the dentist, who has already helped himself to a large quantity of his children's Halloween bounty.

Scenes from a birthday

Madeline turned 12 on Saturday. It's a milestone birthday in our church because she moves from the kid's primary organization to the Young Women's. Instead of Sharing Time and "Popcorn Popping on the Apricot Tree," she'll be introduced to "The Strength of the Youth" pamphlet and firesides. It's enough to make a mom want to sing "Sunrise, Sunset." And in that nostalgic mood, I share with you a scene from October 25, 1996....

We were at Mercy Hospital in Iowa City and I was marveling over the fact that we had a girl. Since we'd started with a boy, I'd pretty well decided we would be a boy family and was honestly shocked that we had a female baby. Madeline was my easiest pregnancy and easiest birth. (She was considerate like that from a very early age.) Lyle was in his junior year in dental school and in a prosthodontics rotation that often kept him away from home, Adam was a very busy 2 1/2 year old, and I was earning extra money by watching another newborn girl and two other toddler boys in our little condo. Heavenly Father knew I needed an easy baby and Madeline joined our family.

Fast forward 12 years, and for her birthday Madeline wanted to spend some time with Mom at the mall, a pre-teen place to be.

But we had a great time. We ate lunch, Madeline tried on clothes, and she bought lip gloss. Once again, bring out Tevya and the violin and "Sunrise,Sunset".

While Madeline and Abby and I spent the afternoon at the mall, Lyle was home preparing a spectacular birthday feast. He makes the most amazing salads. They look great, they taste great and they have things like sugar-coated pecans on top. The gravy bowl next to the salad is holding a scrumptious vinaigrette. For the main course, Madeline requested the same meal she's requested every birthday for as long as we can remember--spaghetti and bread sticks.

After dinner we rolled our full bellies over to the family room for the opening of the presents. The first was from Adam. After opening several boxes of decreasing size, she came to a piece of PVC pipe which she had to blow into to extract a tiny balled-up piece of paper. The paper said that all of the Do-My-Jobs-For-Me/ Be-My-Slave Coupons that Adam had been using for apparently quite a long time were now null and void. I had no idea such coupons even existed and was unaware that Madeline had been living under conditions of servitude. She seemed very relieved and thought it was a wonderful gift--the gift of freedom, how could there be anything better?But the rest of us tried and Madeline also got a vest she'd picked out from the GAP, a pair of earrings, a necklace, and...

a Flip video Camcorder! Adam was just a little jealous as you can see him trying to pry it out of her hand while she was talking with her Grandma on the phone.

The little girls had baths and got into jammies and then out came the Coldstone Mmmmmint Chocolate Chip ice cream cake. Before you watch this video, I have a few things that I need to point out.

1) Adam has a very nice singing voice and he tries purposely to sing out of tune.
2) When Lyle stops him from singing out of tune and Adam innocently asks, "what?", he know full well what Lyle is talking about.
3) He continues to purposely sing out of tune.
4) I am taking pictures with the still camera at the head of the table which accounts for the flashes.
5) Notice the toddler on the right-hand corner of the screen, who is very quick and has amazing lungs.



As I was getting this video uploaded, I noticed Madeline had named it, "Maya's Devious Move." This is the photo I got from the other side of the table, with Madeline saying, "Hey, isn't the birthday girl supposed to blow out the candles?"

Poor Madeline. We did a re-do and she nearly set her hair on fire, she was so closely guarding her candles. We love Madeline dearly and are so blessed that 12 years ago she was sent to our family.

Risky Behavior on the Weekend

Ever since I publicly stated my dislike for the board game RISK, my kids have been at me. "Do you really hate RISK, Mom?.... Have you given it a chance?... Maybe if you tried it just one more time...."

So, in the name of family fun and unity, our Saturday evening found us in battle formation with the following lines drawn in the sand:

*Eileen's Purple Terror was firmly entrenched in Europe.

*Lyle's Black Plague started in Australia and was prepared to spread northward.

*Adam's Green Machine was spread everywhere and ultimately went nowhere.

*Madeline's Yellow Fever was reaching epidemic proportions in Africa and South America.

*Abby's Blue Goo held the U.S. and was continually battling to stave off the yellow fever.

*And Maya Qiu's Red Spread had a strangle hold on Asia, which we thought was cute.

Adam's Green Machine reportedly had a strategy. Maya's Red Spread had absolutely no strategy. As a matter of fact, the Red Spread did everything wrong, boldly spitting in the face of all military know-how. And yet, looking at this picture, can you guess which army always rolled 5's and 6's, and which army couldn't seem to roll over a 3?

And so very quickly the Green Machine was shaking in its boots and licking its wounds up in its namesake country of Greenland. The Black Plague taunted the Green Machine's battle worn soldiers and in the voice of the Sicilian Vicini sneered, "Un-Emploooyyed in Greeeeenlannd," which seemed poor form.

The Purple Terror absolutely could have taken out the Green Machine, but the Purple Terror was hanging out in the Swiss Alps and wanted everyone to just live in peace and harmony. Against all odds, the Green Machine reved itself up and continued chugging away.

The Red Spread, however was becoming problematic. The Spread was up past its bedtime. Red Spread needed to meet bedspread. Yet anytime her father, Black Plague, would ask the Red Spread if she wanted to quit or keep fighting, the Spread always valiantly yelled, "Keep Fighting!" Because it's fun to roll dice and if you're not rolling dice you might just take your extra pieces and form little families and make up witty dialogue as did the Blue Goo.

The Blue Goo did this because a) the Goo does that type of thing often and b) RISK is really that boring. Besides, the Blue Goo just didn't have a heart for world domination and her troops were dropping like flies to the evils of the Yellow Fever. And no matter how much you dislike the game and wish you were doing something else, it's still sad to lose good men.

The Yellow Fever was ruthless. She killed her victims in horrible agony and then heartlessly tossed them into very colorful plastic graves, mocking their sad demise. Yellow Fever annihilated Blue Goo and began sweeping through the Green Machine. The Black Plague however gave the Fever a taste of her own medicine and the Fever reached a boiling point.

While the Fever was simmering away in South America, the Red Spread was out of control in Asia. The threat of the Spread made the rest of the world nervous and the Green Machine, no longer unemployed in Greenland, fell victim to one of the classic blunders. To once again quote Vicini, "Never get involved in a land war in Asia."

The Purple Terror moved in and finally the Red Spread was defeated. In the end, the once all-powerful ruler whimpered like a baby, sucked her thumb and called out for Mommy. It was a sad display. The leadership of the Purple Terror stepped down and her army was taken over by the fallen commanders of the Green Machine. Purple Terror carried the fallen Red despot upstairs to bed where she repented of her ways and promised to never again wish for world domination.

Meanwhile downstairs the Green Machine fell victim to injury and sickness and the Yellow Fever and Black Plague sneezed and coughed and vomited all over each other until both were so sick and tired they didn't care who ruled the world and they just wanted to go to bed.

Things my kids make me do

Did you have a relaxing Saturday? I hope so. My day started out that way at a baby shower held in a lovely home overlooking Puget Sound. I was watching the boat traffic and enjoying a delicious chicken salad croissant when Adam called on my cell phone. He wanted to know when I'd get back because I was expected to participate in the first annual Beck Cross Country Run. I almost said "Wrong number" and hung up.

I leisurely chatted away at the baby shower hoping that the run would take place in my absence. No such luck. I arrived home to very anxious kids who said they were tired of warming up. I quickly changed and had a tag pinned to my sweatshirt and was marched out to race registration table. I'm quite sure this wasn't on my calendar for today.



Lyle, maybe because of his marathons (like that's a good excuse), was able
to opt out and be the official timer. The rest of us stretched, including Maya.....



....although since her attire was more fitting for a ball than a cross country event, she was the designated cheering section.




The wooden bears marked the start and finish line. The course went around the basketball court, over a hurdle next to the guest house, past the horse pasture and barn, up the hill, down the road to the big rock in front of the neighbor's house, up the grassy trail on the hill towards our house and back through the bear finish line.


Lyle shot the gun and we were off.


I knew I couldn't beat Adam, so I didn't worry about him. I thought about sticking with Abby but figured as soon as she got past the hurdle she'd be fine. I set my sights on Madeline. I was right on her tail past the barn but fell back a bit on the hill. I caught her as we passed the neighbor's rock and almost tripped her. Really, it was totally accidental. We were neck and neck until she pulled ahead to go first up the grassy hill. It's really just single file, so you can see my dilemma. Either knock my daughter over or suffer defeat. If the course was just a wee bit longer, I'd have caught her.


Here she's crossing the finish line with obviously nothing left and with me breathing right down her neck and coming on fast.


Abby finished strong and made us all proud.




I so deserve this Gatoraid.

At least I medaled. Nothing wrong with a bronze.

Until the gold medal winner rubs it in.

Daddy Daughter Dates

How sweet is this picture? And how beautiful and grown-up is Madeline looking? Lyle starts doing official Daddy daughter dates with the girls once they turn about 5. He figures his dates should at least be old enough to be sent into the Ladies Room without assistance. Lyle's first with Madeline was back in 2001 when they went to a local performing arts center to see a juggling/acrobat show. Near the end of the show, Madeline was chosen as a volunteer from the audience and was used as an adorable little prop in all sorts of balancing tricks. At one point the performer had her standing on his shoulders, with Madeline our stage diva waving to the crowd. He jokingly told her to stand on his head. Madeline, ever eager to please, had already put one foot on his head when he told her he was kidding. When Madeline put her foot back down her dress fell over the man's face. He staggered blindly around the stage until Madeline realized what had happened and quickly lifted up her dress to reveal the man's surprised face underneath. Lyle said several people asked him afterwards if it was really part of the show because it couldn't have been scripted any better.

Seven years later, they're still enjoying the occasional Daddy daughter date. This past weekend they went back to the same performing arts center to see a Celtic fiddling/ Irish dancing show which they both loved. Abby has a date scheduled for February to see a show called "Moscow Cats". Yes, it's a performing cat show. And not the lion and tiger types of cats. We're talking your run-of-the-mill litterbox users. Abby is ecstatic. Lyle is long-suffering.



Lyle grew up with 6 sisters. Obviously at any Daddy daughter events Lyle's dad was outnumbered. One year the family decided to enlist the services of a male relative, Uncle Harvey.

A few months ago when Abby heard that Madeline was going to be attending a Daddy Daughter dance with Dad, she was determined to go as well. Madeline rolled her eyes and said, "Oh, can't we just call Uncle Harvey?"




Lyle and Abby had their first official date 2 years ago. I was helping Abby get ready upstairs and she wanted Lyle to come knock on her bedroom door. She was all set to go and her date was just not coming. Finally she got on the intercom system and said, "Have I been stood up?!"

When they got home from their date Abby was not happy to have it end and asked her dad if they could also have a sleepover. Lyle hopes that as a teenager she'll be able to end her dates at the door.



Maya isn't quite old enough yet to go on official dates, but here are some Maya and Dad photos that I just love. When we met Maya in China, her experiences had been pretty limited. Orphanage babies don't get much physical contact period, let alone Daddy-style rough housing. In China, when he tried to toss her in the air as he'd always done with our other one year olds, she was terrified. It took several months with very slow progress, but I love these pictures from two years ago when he accomplished his goal. Maya loves her Baba.