Month: January 2005

  • How on earth do they do that???

    I have a hard time sleeping, period.

    Charles called about 5 p.m. from his friend, Logan's, house, asking to
    be picked up.  Turns out he'd crashed after arriving there
    post-parade.

    Got him home a bit before 6 p.m., whereupon he took a shower and hit the sack.

    Says he woke up at 6:20 this morning, confused as to whether it was
    morning or evening, or Monday or Tuesday.  Realized when and where
    he was, factored in he'd already taken a shower, set the alarm on his
    cell phone and went back to sleep for a bit longer.  

  • There'd been a few things I'd been intending to give to the Waybourns for ages, so decided since Dmitry was out of school today to see if it'd be convenient to drive over for a few minutes.


    We were graciously permitted entrance. 


    The timing was perfect, as Lucas was in a mood to be pleased, chortling and laughing up a storm.  That boy has the most infectious laugh!  One can't help but giggle right along with him, the poppet.  ;^)


    Turns out his cries of displeasure are equally vehement, as I learned....suddenly he looked me straight in the eye, opened his mouth, and hollered fit to beat the band.  Yowled like an angry cat!  Then he subsided and continued to look at me, for all the world as if to say, "Well?  What part of that did you not understand?"


    Handed him over to his mother.  That's the cool part about being Auntie Anne. 



    As soon as Mama took him, he sank into slumber.  Here they are with Bill's grandson, in town for a visit.  Which worked out marvelously, as he and Brianna had a good time together.  Tell you what, you wanna be the Life Of The Party with the small fry?


    Have a digital camera.  They go nutso.



    Chandler demonstrating his jumping skills (which are prodigious, I hasten to add.)



    Can you believe how Brianna has grown?  She's even learning to play soccer.



    While we were there, Dmitry hung out in the game/computer room with his friends.  Periodically one would hear yells and squeals, indicating someone was being pounded into that sofa for no discernable reason.  Never seemed to faze any of 'em, including the poundee.  Boys!


    It's been a nice three-day weekend (well, except for working and missing the concert). 

  • Today's a Brianna day, and Dmitry's home because of the MLKJr holiday.  After Dmitry soundly trounced us in a rousing game of Memory, he thought he'd have a crack at teaching her checkers.  For about three minutes.  Then he decided, okay, maybe checkers is a bit beyond her, but how about Connect Four?



    I had told Dmitry he could go to CiCi's Pizza this evening because Pops would be late, but now Pops is coming home at the usual time, so I figured we'd go at lunchtime today instead. 


    Dmitry, thinking of Brianna, had another idea, which was subsequently adopted.


    Let me tell you, I have been to the bowels of Hell, and it's......


     


     


    Chuck E. Cheese.  


    What's astonishing is to recall when Don and I would take the older four there.  How the deuce did we do that? 


     

  • You know, I like parades as much as the next person, but ISTM Fort Worth is overdoing it just a little.


    Two parades in three days?  Isn't that gilding the lily?


    On Saturday was the Fort Worth Stock Show Parade (a cool one without any motorized vehicles permitted), and tomorrow is the MLKJr Day Parade, in which the Heights band is marching.


    But TWO parades in THREE days? 

  • I feel a bit better about having had to miss the All-Region concert last night.


    Don says Charles was on the last row, smack in the middle.  Completely obscured.  No way to see him.  Isn't that strange, though?  Last year at both the All-Region and All-City concerts the baritones were there on the far right, as one faced the stage.


    I hope the arranger of the All-City concert does not mimic last night's seating pattern.  

  • Every once in a while it's brought home to me what a hard row to hoe orphans in Russia, Ukraine, and other Eastern European countries are facing.


    In December I worked with a woman from Ukraine at Foley's for a bit.  She was very kind, offering to translate Svetlana's emails for me, help Dmitry with his English, and so on.  She also, though, warned me to expect Svetlana to try and get all she can from us (she's never asked for anything, BTW), basically not to believe anything Dmitry says about his past life ("All those kids have a story") because all orphans are liars, that children from orphanages are grasping and greedy, and I don't recall what all.


    Enough to annoy me.  Kept telling her our experience with Dmitry bore no resemblance to her dire warnings, but couldn't get through to her.  It was apparent she thought I was fooling myself.


    Came across this on the net recently, which certainly verifies the opinion held about orphans by Eastern Europeans:


    I live in a community with lots of Russian and Ukrainian nationals.  I work with several such women.  When we were preparing to go to adopt our son, age ** months, in ******, I approached these women about tips, ideas and information.  To a person, they each warned me against adopting a Russian orphan and all (separately) quoted a Russian proverb about "taking in someone else's garbage."   This broke my heart, because these women are so kind and loving and all work with kids. They truly believed I was doing a terrible thing for my family and it was their moral imperative to stop me. (We are all still friends, and the freely admit they were wrong, although they think it was a fluke that he is so smart).


    When in the small village my son lived in, we would walk from the homestay to the baby home.  On about the third day we took a break at a cafe and when we came out, were turned around. Since it wasn't a long walk, we had insisted we didn't need anyone to walk with us, so now we were lost.  The town is tiny, with one main street and one orphanage and one school.  We must have asked 10 people how to get to the baby home (I don't speak Russian well, but well enough for that) and every one of them said *they didn't know !!!*  By the fifth day we realized how ridiculous that was - it was about three blocks from where we were and it was the tallest building in that section.  It had a big sign out front, yet these people all professed to have no idea where the orphanage was, or even that their town had one.  We noticed that passersby averted their eyes when walking by the baby home, and never looked or smiled at the toddlers p! laying outside in the yard, just feet from where people walked.  Yet, every baby or toddler out walking with family  got lots of attention.  They obviously loved children. I can only surmise that people were very ashamed of these orphans and tried hard to keep them out of their minds and lives.


    Tell you what, while one has to applaud the desire of the Russian Duma to give Russian families more opportunities to adopt the children in the orphanages by increasing the time the children are on the Federal adoption list to six months, it's obvious the primary problem is not the length of time the available children are listed . . . it's the attitude toward taking in someone else's children that needs to be changed.


    How does one do that, though?  I can't even begin to imagine how a government (probably comprised of many people who, deep inside, share the same bias against orphans) can set out to eradicate such an ingrained prejudice.


    The answer, naturally, is for Christianity to take hold in Russia . . . what can one expect of a country that was officially atheistic for 70 years?  Being kind to orphans is not a common hallmark of any atheistic or pagan society.

  • British Boy Being a Royal Pain . . .

    What in the name of heaven could Prince Harry have been thinking???

    Everyone knows the event to which I'm referring, I expect . . . he
    thought it'd be a lark to dress up for a "natives and colonials" party
    in a rented Nazi uniform. 

    Naturally he was caught on film (hello?  Anybody home?),
    complete with drink and cigarette, with the resulting photo published
    in The Sun.  I must say I rather liked the description of
    Charles's (not mine, the Prince of Wales) reaction to his youngest
    son's idea of an amusing costume:  "incandescent with rage."

    Mercy Maud, doesn't that paint a picture? 

  • Boys!!! Pt. 2


    Don took Charles to Trinity this evening (having had an appointment in the area so he got home early), and returned with updates:



    1. Someone - and I think we all know who he means by "someone" - has to have Charles back to Trinity, a solid 25 minute drive, by 8 a.m. tomorrow morning.
    2. Charles forgot his tuxedo, and is certainly hoping there's going to be some way he can get it out of the Heights band hall tonight or early tomorrow morning.

  • BOYS!!! 


    So last night Charles emerges briefly from his lair to ask me if I'll be able to get him to Trinity High School tonight at 6 p.m.


    Well, okay.  But why? 


    "Oh," he casually replies, "for the rehearsal for the All-Region concert."


    A sense of foreboding assails me as I ask just when is the concert?


    "Saturday night," came his rather impatient response.  His meaning is clear:  sheesh, Mama, get a clue.  The rehearsal is on Friday night because the concert is Saturday night.  Big time duh factor here.


    "WHAT!?" I screech in frustrated fury.  "You never said anything about the All-Region concert being this weekend, so when Tony called this afternoon I agreed to work Saturday night!" 


    Now I can't be at the concert, and I love them. 


    I left Dmitry to his math homework and went tearfully off to find Don, bewailing both the fact that I can't be at the All-Region concert as well as Charles is a clod who doesn't bother to tell us anything.  Don soothes me by pointing out there's still the All-City concert to come.


    Just then Charles headed for the kitchen, so I called out to him.  "Well, when is the All-City concert?  Do you know yet?"


    Sure, he said.  It's on January 29th.


    ARRRGGHHH!!!  


    That's the night of Mom and Jonathan's birthday party!   The invitation had come the preceding day and we'd said that time would be fine, seeing as how every calendar in the house is clear that night. 


    Oh, Char-rulls....c'mere....let Mama whisper in your ear....


     


     



     



     

  • Are you ever bothered and/or surprised about something which one actually ought not be at any rate surprised about?


    It's never fun to be tailgated by a speeder, but it tends to add an element of cognitive dissonance when the tailgater has a handicapped card dangling from his or her rearview mirror.


    Speaking of which, shouldn't those things be removed when the car's being driven?  I don't see how they aren't blocking a fairly significant chunk of visibility.