Okay, so while I'm trying to make everything for Xmas (including the presents), be a 40-80 hour working mom, spend time with my family and friends and also on blogging about things that have been done with said family and friends over the past two months (or why not the past two years, while we're at it?)... I give you this hilarious little read. Not that I'm going to let the author keep me from my homemade Xmas pursuits. But she's at least half-right and good for a laugh on this cold, wet December day in Alsace!
Speaking of Xmassy this and that: a blog post on merry auld Saint Nicholas is in order—if I can get everything else in order, first, that is! We had a lot of fun with him on "his" day, this year...
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Boxing Octopux
Yesterday was a rainy Armistice Day, so we went to the movies (Panda! Go Panda!—huge thumbs up from all four of us) and spent the rest of the day drawing or trying to make sense of the disorder of our household, depending upon the age of the individual. Frankly, I wished I were doing like the young 'uns, but had to allow for the fact that by organising things in my studio space, I could better be drawing in the near future. Today, for example.
Speaking of today: This morning, the boys were hilariously sweet about getting up at a godforsaken hour and all. I was helping them keep concentrated on getting their shoes on, when Leo suddenly needed more than anything else to prove to me that he could read the names on his* "person Dinosaur King cards". Which prompted Tomi to claim that he could write them without seeing them. He ran off and came back with a piece of paper that had "Zoé" written on it, as proof. This caused a mini scandal toot sweet, because... He'd written on one of Leo's drawings. He said he was sorry immediately (not a first, exactly, but rare enough to be noticed), and pointed out that we could cut that part of the paper off. I wanted to laugh. Leo was reasonable about it, but pointed out in turn that this wasn't possible, because... There was a full-page drawing on the other side. When he turned the page over, this is what I saw:
I couldn't imagine where he'd've gotten this idea, and tried to question without cueing him. Turns out he was thinking of a street party we were at about a month and a half ago. There was a boxing club who'd set up a ring at one end of the street, and were inviting people to have a gentle go. When asked if he'd ever seen boxing octopuses, he laughed incredulously and said, "Nho-o-oh!" (As in: "Uhm... Are you serious?") I'm still wondering, but am willing to be a be reluctant believer...
* Since we parents refuse all requests for Dinosaur King cards, Leo has been trading Pokémon cards here and there for the damn things. Ah, well...
footnotes
1 Note the person-legs on the gloved boxer
2 The mohawked-oct isn't wearing gloves because "he doesn't
need them"
3 Tomi suggested that the plural of a boxing octopus be "boxing
octopux", or "octopux qui buxent [sic]"
I couldn't imagine where he'd've gotten this idea, and tried to question without cueing him. Turns out he was thinking of a street party we were at about a month and a half ago. There was a boxing club who'd set up a ring at one end of the street, and were inviting people to have a gentle go. When asked if he'd ever seen boxing octopuses, he laughed incredulously and said, "Nho-o-oh!" (As in: "Uhm... Are you serious?") I'm still wondering, but am willing to be a be reluctant believer...
* Since we parents refuse all requests for Dinosaur King cards, Leo has been trading Pokémon cards here and there for the damn things. Ah, well...
footnotes
1 Note the person-legs on the gloved boxer
2 The mohawked-oct isn't wearing gloves because "he doesn't
need them"
3 Tomi suggested that the plural of a boxing octopus be "boxing
octopux", or "octopux qui buxent [sic]"
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Streakball & Winky*
Streakball's drawing of the day: A scene of diamonds and decadence.
"What it is, decadence?"
"A diamond-studded castle, filled with diamond-studded furniture, for instance."
"Yeah, an' the people will wear diamonds, too!"
"Yep: decadence!"
"Yeah! I like decadence!"
"..."
And Winky's drawing of the day: "It's a fox, and we can see inside of him, his heart and the - the - the things that he breathes with - (puff!) - (puff!) - those things!"
You can also see their names in Vaka'an, a language Winky instigated not long ago, and which Streakball has also taken to. The spelling is seemingly still up in the air, as even they noticed today, due to the difference in "o"-s. They are planning on working on it. Or at least, they were planning on working on it at 14h this afternoon...
* I have no idea where this came from, exactly. But one of the boys was telling me a story about something the two of them had done today, and mentioned that it was "streakball and winky". I laughed, but he didn't notice—just charged on with his story—and so I never got around to asking him what that meant. Which means that it now means... them! heh! heh!
* I have no idea where this came from, exactly. But one of the boys was telling me a story about something the two of them had done today, and mentioned that it was "streakball and winky". I laughed, but he didn't notice—just charged on with his story—and so I never got around to asking him what that meant. Which means that it now means... them! heh! heh!
Friday, September 11, 2009
Tuesday, September 08, 2009
Back to School Daze
After a long stint States-side this summer, we landed safely this-side; did a decent job handling jet lag; saw our newly-wed friends off for their Italian honeymoon; and came smack-bang up against Real Life, which had a few surprises, and all of it hurtling at us at once.
So-so suddenly, it was September 3rd, and we were banging the alarm clock quiet, dressing still-sleeping boys, downing a coffee, making sure the snacks were in the packs, and making the long haul to the boys' new school.
Then there was the greeting of the new teachers, and the long good-byes, complete with tears, sobs, and even a little uprising. (While Tomi's teacher addressed adults and children en masse, the sea of adults standing in front of Jean-Philippe and me began to sway and part, and suddenly a small, determined little mass of sadness and fury that very much resembled our little boy stood before us in the doorway, coat and bag in hand, saying, "Aller ! Je m'en vais avec vous !")* When we'd finally got him re-seated, we beat our retreat—with a few glances back, nonetheless. Leo was still looking lost, and fighting back tears; and Tomi's teacher was bent over him gently, talking...
We parents had a coffee together at a local bistro, and began our new-home-hunting: scouring the streets in the area, looking for For Sale signs that don't appear in the ads or at the agencies. I was hoping that the walking would excercise that morning's demons; instead, it worked them into a lather. By the time we sat down for lunch, I was ready for a good cry.
We love their old school, their teachers, the friends and acquaintences (big and little) we've made there, the lovely walk through La Petite France to get there... We love our home, with its ancient charm, the view from the windows, the terrace... We love this part of the city, with everything you could want or need within a 2-7 minute walk, including the butcher, the baker, and even a candlestick maker!
It's not that we won't find lots to love about wherever we move to, in the end, but... well... I can't imagine it, yet. And anyway, we haven't found said place, yet. So Back to School Days turned quickly into Back to School Daze for kids and parents alike in this family.
There was a glimmer of hope on Day 2, when we took the boys up to the doors and said our fare-thee-wells. Tomi began to melt, but the following conversation ensued:
Mom: You can do this! You're a brave little button!
Tomi: No, I'm not brave!
Mom: Yes, you are. And you proved it to us, just this week!
Tomi: How I did proved it to you?
Mom: Remember when you shucked your armbands off at the pool, and started swimming before my eyes? You knew you could do it, so you plucked up your courage and DID it. You were SO brave! If you can do that, you can do this.
Tomi: (whispering, with a shy look of pride growing on his face) Yeah!
Jean-Philippe had been seeing Leo off as this took place, and came over with a smile at this point. Tomi gave us each a kiss and walked right into the room.
But in the few seconds between his parents' hugs, Leo had had the time to take in the full extent of the situation. By the time I got to him, the bottomless Sob Pit had begun to disgorge its convulsive gaspings. Soothing words were proving useless, and the bell had rung, so I hugged him and said, "You've got to go in, now, hon." He answered, "I-hi ca-han't g-gho ih-ih-ih-hin!" Me: "Why not?" Leo: "Bhe-he-cause I-hi ca-han't s-s-s-st-hop this (he indicated his heaving torso) this... this cr-cry-hing!" So I borrowed from Obama: "Yes, you can," and added, "It just takes time." We hugged, and his teacher came out, and the school day had begun.
As I mentioned in a note on Facebook, the change of schools is good, in that they are in an international school, with a bilingual program in English (among other languages). But the change was bound to be brutal for them, because the school's all the way across town (= MUCH longer days, for several reasons), and much bigger and less beautiful than the old school. But more importantly: their friends weren't changing schools with them! And then, preschool & kindergarten are much less demanding than elementary school. When asked about their first day, their first response was, "We didn't play! We didn't draw!" Which made me laugh at first, but then made me reflect once again on all of the massive changes that they are going through right now, and how hard it must be, coming all at once as it is.
Ach!
* "Let's go! I'm leaving with you!"
p.s. Hopefully, I'll find the time to blog about the other big and little things that went on in our lives this summer. But the chances are slimmer with every passing day. I started a blog post about our three-or-four-part vacation in the States, for instance, but the sheer number of things that we had done made it impossible to decide how to blog about it, and which stories and images to share. Ach! again...
So-so suddenly, it was September 3rd, and we were banging the alarm clock quiet, dressing still-sleeping boys, downing a coffee, making sure the snacks were in the packs, and making the long haul to the boys' new school.
Then there was the greeting of the new teachers, and the long good-byes, complete with tears, sobs, and even a little uprising. (While Tomi's teacher addressed adults and children en masse, the sea of adults standing in front of Jean-Philippe and me began to sway and part, and suddenly a small, determined little mass of sadness and fury that very much resembled our little boy stood before us in the doorway, coat and bag in hand, saying, "Aller ! Je m'en vais avec vous !")* When we'd finally got him re-seated, we beat our retreat—with a few glances back, nonetheless. Leo was still looking lost, and fighting back tears; and Tomi's teacher was bent over him gently, talking...
We parents had a coffee together at a local bistro, and began our new-home-hunting: scouring the streets in the area, looking for For Sale signs that don't appear in the ads or at the agencies. I was hoping that the walking would excercise that morning's demons; instead, it worked them into a lather. By the time we sat down for lunch, I was ready for a good cry.
We love their old school, their teachers, the friends and acquaintences (big and little) we've made there, the lovely walk through La Petite France to get there... We love our home, with its ancient charm, the view from the windows, the terrace... We love this part of the city, with everything you could want or need within a 2-7 minute walk, including the butcher, the baker, and even a candlestick maker!
It's not that we won't find lots to love about wherever we move to, in the end, but... well... I can't imagine it, yet. And anyway, we haven't found said place, yet. So Back to School Days turned quickly into Back to School Daze for kids and parents alike in this family.
There was a glimmer of hope on Day 2, when we took the boys up to the doors and said our fare-thee-wells. Tomi began to melt, but the following conversation ensued:
Mom: You can do this! You're a brave little button!
Tomi: No, I'm not brave!
Mom: Yes, you are. And you proved it to us, just this week!
Tomi: How I did proved it to you?
Mom: Remember when you shucked your armbands off at the pool, and started swimming before my eyes? You knew you could do it, so you plucked up your courage and DID it. You were SO brave! If you can do that, you can do this.
Tomi: (whispering, with a shy look of pride growing on his face) Yeah!
Jean-Philippe had been seeing Leo off as this took place, and came over with a smile at this point. Tomi gave us each a kiss and walked right into the room.
But in the few seconds between his parents' hugs, Leo had had the time to take in the full extent of the situation. By the time I got to him, the bottomless Sob Pit had begun to disgorge its convulsive gaspings. Soothing words were proving useless, and the bell had rung, so I hugged him and said, "You've got to go in, now, hon." He answered, "I-hi ca-han't g-gho ih-ih-ih-hin!" Me: "Why not?" Leo: "Bhe-he-cause I-hi ca-han't s-s-s-st-hop this (he indicated his heaving torso) this... this cr-cry-hing!" So I borrowed from Obama: "Yes, you can," and added, "It just takes time." We hugged, and his teacher came out, and the school day had begun.
As I mentioned in a note on Facebook, the change of schools is good, in that they are in an international school, with a bilingual program in English (among other languages). But the change was bound to be brutal for them, because the school's all the way across town (= MUCH longer days, for several reasons), and much bigger and less beautiful than the old school. But more importantly: their friends weren't changing schools with them! And then, preschool & kindergarten are much less demanding than elementary school. When asked about their first day, their first response was, "We didn't play! We didn't draw!" Which made me laugh at first, but then made me reflect once again on all of the massive changes that they are going through right now, and how hard it must be, coming all at once as it is.
Ach!
* "Let's go! I'm leaving with you!"
p.s. Hopefully, I'll find the time to blog about the other big and little things that went on in our lives this summer. But the chances are slimmer with every passing day. I started a blog post about our three-or-four-part vacation in the States, for instance, but the sheer number of things that we had done made it impossible to decide how to blog about it, and which stories and images to share. Ach! again...
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
At Long Last!
The book I've been working on frantically for the past few weeks and more has, at long last, been sent to the printer! If you'd like a look at a few of the pages within, as well as a bit of an explanation as to how and why this project came about, feel free to take a look at my work blog, either by clicking on the link on the right side of this blog, or by clicking here.
Friday, May 29, 2009
More Fun With Bugs
A drawing done the other night, from the day's memories...Above is a fleeting moment in the lives of two boys who love bugs. Or, more to the point: bug hunting. And bug sequestering. And so on. Every once in a while, they also love bug squishing. But for now, they are generally very good to the bugs they find. They feed them and add little extras - leaves, twigs - to the bug containers, to make their captives' lives that much more comfortable. If it's weevils, though, they scream, "MO-O-O-O-O-O-M! There's a BAD BEETLE! QUICK! SQUISH IT!"
Interlude: Why is it that Moms are always given the most thankless of tasks? I ask you.
The other day, we were slo-o-o-owly making our way home from school, with Tomi stopping at every tree and searching... searching... searching... I can't imagine what took me so long to figure out what it was that was so interesting at the foot of the trees. Ladybugs, of course. Tomi claims that the trees are usually full of them, though this is the first I've heard of it. In any case, we got to the very last tree of our homeward path, and Tomi gasped with delight: "A LADYBUG!" He scooped it up and carried it all the way home, despite the relentless tickling, where we sequestered it - of course. The next morning, Tomi gasped again and cried out, "EGGS! SHE LAID TWO SETS OF EGGS!" And sure enough... So we gave her a leaf full of aphids, to encourage her growth and that of the eventual larvæ. We shall see what becomes of this experiment...
In any case, excitement abounds! Heh! heh!
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