Miles in Our Stockings

Remember our tales from South? Well. For christmas, Little One and I emulated Santa and took to the skies! Was it so we could look for reindeer? No. Was it to show off the holiday adorableness of Little One as She toddled through airports clutching Her favorite teddy? To entertain the masses as She played peek-a-boo, blew kisses, refrained from crying and stayed calmly in my lap all the way across the country?! No, though I think I will count those things as Little One's presents to me this year. It was to start our next Big Adventure.
Surprise!
The Little One family circus is on the road again! Coming to you in 2010:
Tales From Out West.

Chapter one coming soon- TEXAS.

Merry Christmas, Everyone.

Snow Day!

Blizzard!!! ...ok, well, blizzard warning, and definitely a snowstorm, and by the way did I mention I am from Arizona? BLIZZARD!!!
We were s'posed to go on a little road trip for J's family holiday party on Saturday. But instead, we woke up and it looked like this:

And the radio, in between singing about Santa's adulterous affairs and people being run down by reindeer (this is a g-rated holiday?) kept hollering at us like this:
Radio Guy: And now for a quick look at our weather and traffic! Over to you!
Weather Traffic Girl: Oh! My goodness Ted! What a mess! Accidents everywhere! Everywhere! Roads closed....metro closed...airport, closed! Stay indoors, everyone! I repeat: it is NOT safe to drive! Stay home! Stay home!!!
I mean, weather people can be kinda high strung. Just sayin'. But we followed her advice anyways, and it's a good thing. Because it kept snowing. And snowing! And by the evening, it looked like this:

At which point, it was actually taller than Little One. * I just want to also pause to note that the table there looks a lot like a cupcake. This is likely a cosmic shout out to my sister, who turned a big 2-5 that day. Happy Birthday Sister!!!! *

Anyways, we decided not to let this raging blizzard pass us by! So we bundled up and went out to play. The dogs, of course, hopped out the door and into Nirvana. The snow, by the evening, got so all you could see of E were her pointy little ears. There was so much snow falling, we couldn't see!

So much snow, that J got out his board and cruised the hills by our house.

So much snow, that we almost lost Little One!

But look. She loves it!

Or, for a split sec, She thought it was really cake. Because, the majority of the time, She was completely, totally unimpressed by Blizzard. Blizzards, She will tell you, are cold. Not fun, cold. NOT fun. COLD.

Oh well. I went out late at night, when it was at it's snowiest, and bounded and tunneled around with the dogs (at least someone appreciates a good blizzard). And went down the slides at the playground with them, head first, and went waaaaaay high on the swing and then Jumped Off! POOF! Into a heap of powder. And threw snowballs and made snow angels and drew happy faces on people's cars!
Because really, Peanuts, it does not arctically blizzard every day. Little One did not particularly enjoy the heaps of snow, because maybe She's still too little. You can be too little to enjoy it, I suppose. But, J and I can tell you- because we know for certain- that despite false rumors otherwise, you can never be too big.

And a Season to Everything...

How does it go by so fast?

Already....

She's crawled out of fall....

And walked into Winter!

Make Me a Match

In medical school, there is a very important day. It is called "Match Day". It's pretty much just what it sounds like- the professional equivalent of arranged marriage. All the young med students, unattached, have been making rotations, dating around and seeing what medical specialties are attractive, which they get along with, and which result in abusive relationships ending in dramatic break-up fights with name calling and bitterness.
Finally, after deliberating over their options, they pick The One. The Specialty that's truly special, that they want to spend the rest of their lives with! Ah, love. But we all know that the feeling isn't always mutual. Match Day is when some administrative team (quite possibly a bevy of Jewish Grandmothers) receive all the breathless professions of devotion from Med Students, and then asks the Specialties, "Ok. Here's who you've swept off their feet. Good work. Which of this lot do you want to have and to hold and to drive intentionally crazy with your wily ways?"
And Specialties pick through the options and say, "oohh, this one has really nice eyes, and a dreamy bedside manner." And they tell the Matchmakers whose love they requite, and who "has a really nice personality, but." Matchmakers sort through the results. And pair them off, Specialty to Med student, already planning the big ceremony at the end of the year to celebrate the union.
Med Students wait in infatuated agony....and then....Match Day. The Day that everyone finds out whether they win their Dream mate, or have to enter premarital counseling and learn to love Podiatry. And if you made a really bad impression- always being late, say, or never noticing the important things like slightly elevated hematocrit, or a new haircut- you might end up all alone, your only choice to get a nice makeover and try again next year.
So on Match Day, J and I anxiously awaited his fate. His Match would bind him not only to a field of medicine, but also determine where on earth we'd be living for the next few years. Such drama. Well.
I'm happy to report that J, being the supergenius-most-eligible-stud we all know he is, matched with his top choice, and we will be staying in DC so that he and his Specialty can get a nice little starter home, and maybe a potted plant. Go J!

A Day for Family

Today is December 15th.
Last year, I wrote about Bernice. How we found each other and how, on this date years later, I lost her. I remember Bernice always, but today I'm putting some flowers out by the flag that the navy sent me when she died, looking at old pictures, and drinking a chocolate milk (her favorite). Part of my ongoing promise never to let her memory fade out.
The holidays are coming up. Remembering Bernice reminds me to think about people who don't have families to visit them with cookies and presents. It reminds me to be so, so appreciative of my own family and how lucky we are to have each other, however imperfect we each may be. And it especially reminds me of one of the best lessons I learned from her, which is that "family" means much more than similar DNA.
If we are lucky, we're born to a family and we get to keep them. But as we go, we also get to choose the people that we love and that we weave into our lives until they are part of us. As we go, we find people we decide to belong to. One of the best things about being a person, I think, is something that Bernice taught me, and Little One continues to teach me every day.
We don't have to be alone. We don't have to be born into perfect families, we don't have to be involved in a Great Romance. We can choose to seek each other out, even in the most unlikely places, even across oceans, even across stereotypes, even through fear, and we can choose- like children do- to love.
When I die, the flag will probably be given away, the pictures maybe thrown out, along with so many other objects, precious to me and meaningless to others. That's ok. They're really just little loops of string around my fingers, little reminders of memories, and ideas, and family. One day when Little One sifts through my things, dispersing and dispensing of them, She might not realize it but the best things I can leave Her are things I inherited from others myself, including Bernice. Including from Her. Things that can't be thrown away. Like how to choose to be a part of a family-shared DNA, or not. Like how to choose to love.

Pristapulka

Ta-Daaa! As I mentioned, Little One is now walking! She is walking to the mailbox. Walking to the park. Walking-so-She-can-hold-TWO-forbidden objects-the-same-time! Walking-with-someone's-tail-in-Her-clutches-as-if-She-had-the-reins-to-an-Arabian! Toddle toddle. Crash. Stumble. Toddle toddle.

Now, there are some Bulgarians out there who will tell you that a girl does not get this good at bipedaling on luck and practice alone. Uh-uh (that's uh-uh with a nod, mind you). It was the Pristapulka.

In Bulgaria, a baby taking its first wobbly steps gets a party (woo hoo!). To bless those steps, and make them strong (and, it seems, also to celebrate a little the fact that they are Growing Up). Little One likes a party. Lucky for Her She knows some top-notch Bulgarians, who very very generously threw Her a Pristapulka! Which goes like this:

First- A round loaf of bread is covered in Honey. Everyone gathers around the loaf and waits with baited breath, until the loaf-holder says GO! Then we all snatch a hunk of it, and run like mad.

(Then we get to eat our loot). This is a blessing so that Little One's steps will carry Her far in life, which we hope will be sweet as honey.

Then- We cover Little One's eyes. We gather up objects that represent various professions- a stethoscope, an instrument, a paintbrush, a hammer, a pen. And lay them all out on the table. Then we put Little One in front of the table, uncover Her eyes- and watch intently, biting our tongues. The first object chosen by the wee babe foretells Her future calling.

Little One surveyed the items. Her hand hovered over one...then another....back to the first one. Realizing we were all watching Her, she paused, looking up at us with a mischievious glint in Her eye, rapt by the attention. She looked back at Her hand, almost picks up a few more things then- grabs.........the calculator.

Huh. Apparently very little of my DNA survived the embryonic cell splitting. Good for Little One!

We all cheered Her talent with numbers and settled into a feast.

Mmm. Pristapulkas are yummy, I can tell you that.

Thank you Bulgarians!

Couple of Basket Cases

Village Party

Big heartfelt thank you is going out to everyone who donated, volunteered, and participated in the AFC charity event last Saturday in DC! It was incredibly fun, and a success despite the blizzard that popped up the day of. Maybe Mother Nature just wanted to participate, too.

The girls were there, and GG made a speech that had everyone in tears. Tons of artwork was donated, including some really great pieces by the kids that sold like hotcakes. (Whatever that means. I don't think I've ever purchased a hotcake, have you?)

It's wonderful to have so many people coming together to be the village that is raising these 16 kids. I can only hope that if J and I were taken from her, others would step in to help Little One the way AFC and it's donors are trying to be there for these kids. Being at the auction and seeing the enthusiasm on everyone's face as they listened to the speakers, I thought about the kids' parents. I thought about how desperate I would have felt, knowing that I wouldn't be there to Take Care, to protect, to love. I looked at the photos of the kids on the wall, healthy and playing and studying and thriving. And I said a little prayer that somewhere/somehow their parents might know that they are ok now. And another that AFC will always find a way to keep it so.

There are lots and lots of great photos of the event here --> http://artistsforcharity.org/events/ .

Check it out! And of course, I have to mention, that it's never too late for you to join the village, too.

Celebrating AIDS Day

Yesterday was World AIDS Day.

A day to celebrate. Yes. A day to celebrate the fact that we each are so powerful.

So powerful that we can protect ourselves from the virus that causes AIDS.

- only you can decide who to have sex with, and whether to use protection

- only you can decide not to share needles

- only you can make sure you are educated about the facts of HIV/AIDS

So powerful that we can help those who were powerless to do so.

- Just $5 can help AFC continue giving HIV+ kids who have lost their parents a home, medical care, an education, and a family. http://artistsforcharity.org/home.html

- Artists can donate work to be auctioned for the kids

- Those in the DC area can attend the Holiday Fundraiser this Saturday!

http://artistsforcharity.org/events/

And so powerful that we can help make the world better for them and safer for others by GETTING EDUCATED and SPREADING THE WORD.

- To give us all a head start on this one, I'm reposting this from last year. Please. Read, think, pass it on.

Things I wish people knew about HIV/AIDS:

HIV and AIDS are not the same thing. HIV is a virus, which can be contracted from another person. AIDS is a syndrome, which is not contagious. AIDS is a set of symptoms which develop after some time if a person does not undergo treatment for HIV. Not everyone with HIV will develop AIDS.

HIV is NOT a death sentence. HIV is now considered a chronic but manageable disease, such as diabetes or hepatitis.

It is, in fact, considered in many cases to be easier to manage than both of those diseases.

People with HIV can live 'indefinitely', and children born HIV positive can usually expect to grow up and lead healthy, relatively normal lives. *as long as they have access to treatment*

HIV is NOT spread through casual contact- such as sharing toys, even toothbrushes, food, dishes, clothes, etc, coughing, sneezing, hugging, kissing, pool or bathwater, or through contact with urine, tears, sweat or spit.

HIV is ONLY spread through sex, breastfeeding, blood-blood contact (almost exclusively sharing of needles), or through pregnancy/childbirth.

With proper medication, pregnancy/childbirth barely makes that list- only a 2% chance of passing on HIV to a fetus/infant with currently available meds.

You are really the only one who can protect you from HIV. You can protect yourself by always practicing safe sex, and by never sharing needles. It is within your power to prevent contracting HIV.

HIV/AIDS is a lot more common than you might think. Statistically speaking, odds are that you know or have met someone who is positive.

People with HIV or AIDS are not a threat to you or to anyone else. Unless you plan on having unprotected sex or sharing needles with that person, it is virtually impossible for you to become infected.

People with HIV or AIDS are people. Really! They deserve to be treated with respect and compassion, as all people do. They deserve to have full lives and rights, as all people do.

The worst, scariest thing about HIV/AIDS in so many ways is not the physical aspect, but the stigma. Many other diseases are much more contagious and much more life-threatening or limiting, and yet HIV continues to carry a huge stigma entrenched in fear and lack of education about the facts.

One of the best things we can all do to help those affected by HIV/AIDS is to be one less person who is uneducated, one less person harboring needless stereotypes, one less person reacting out of fear rather than awareness.

You can get more info at: http://www.cdc.gov/hiv/resources/factsheets/transmission.htm

Even better- tell someone else. Spread the word!

Happy World AIDS Day. Celebrate your power! Celebrate by using it.

Gobble Gobbled

Poor Little One. Stuck in with a bunch of vegetarians on Her first real Thanksgiving. Allergic to the traditional Tofurkey. Stranded. But wait. Not to worry! Aunt W to the rescue! We hightailed it outta here to the Land of the Animal Cookers, and Little One got to Thanksgiving it up right. She got the whole deal- I even made Her some special 'mashed potatoes'. Little One said, "now here's a holiday made for ME!" and dove right in to the festivities. Turkeys of the world beware! Here's a little before shot, and a little after shot, working on Her second round of turkey and green beans. She even had a whole banana for desert. Way to make those pilgrims proud, Little One.

J and I? No, we didn't have any soy-less tofurkey, no. But we still left Aunt W's house feeling very, very full.

Our tummies, and our hearts.