Author: charlestess

whazza dim sum mum?

a few months after starting this blog, i changed its name from "tesspeak" to "dim sum mum".

the other day i added my blog to a multiples blog list and someone emailed me asking:

"I do not want to seem ignorant because I like your blog, but why did you change the name? Do you want to explore more about the Chinese culture instead of having triplets?"

good question, and here is the answer.

the literal definition of dim sum is: "to touch your heart"

dim sum, served in "little pieces", consists of a wide variety of tastes and experiences.

dim sum are tiny presents. for the unfamiliar, they can be an overload of the senses.

the dim sum atmosphere is joyous and leisurely, usually consisting of groups of friends, and families. talking always accompanies dim sum!

my dim sums have touched my heart. they are not all uniform, they come in a variety of shapes and are each different. when we are all together, it is noisy, joyous, and a wonderful time to catch up and share. and yes, just as a dim sum novice can be overwhelmed by the carts rolling past, the hand gestures, the steaming pots and noise, unless you are used to four children under four, our family can be overwhelming too the first time you encounter us.

tiny presents. little bits that have touched my heart. each different. i am the dim sum mum.

now that i have cleared that up…

for the next time you venture out for dim sum (or yum cha as it is also known), here are some suggestions on what to order, courtesy of mcharles and myself and wandering spoon.

Shrimp dumplings (har gau) Tender, semi-translucent dough pleated in a distinctive half-moon shape around a shrimp filling and then steamed.

Pork dumplings (siu mai) Small, round steamed dumplings with a juicy, gingery pork and shrimp filling peeking though the gathers of a thin wrapper. Another benchmark for dim sum teahouses.

Potstickers (wor tip or gau ji) These familiar steamed and pan-seared appetizers are heartier than most other dim sum dumplings. They have a thicker dough enclosing a pork and shrimp filling.

Chive dumplings (gau choi gau) Flat and round, with a chewy dough thin enough to reveal a delicate green color on top and seared to a crisp on the other side. One variation includes scallops.  really good with

Steamed buns with roast pork (char siu bau) Soft, fluffy white rolls filled with morsels of sweet, red-glazed roast pork. these two (chive and steamed buns) are possibly my faves.

Baked buns with roast pork (guk char siu bau) Roast pork enclosed in a yeasted dough and baked golden brown. not as good, but the sesame seeds sprinkled atop them are lovely.

Curried beef crescents (gah li au so) Miniature turnovers with extremely flaky dough and a curried beef filling, it is thought this little bit is from western china.

anything with taro!

Spring rolls (chun geun) if they offer the vietnamese style of steamed and cold versus deep fried, i would select those, however the deep fried chinese spring rolls are classic. i prefer the vegetarian version with bamboo shoots and water chestnuts, and mushrooms, but pork and shrimp are offered as well.

some people prefer rice balls, glutinous rice or congee, but we like the more westernized "fried rice" for our carb contribution.

Lotus leaf rice packets (law mai gai) During steaming, the leaves of the lotus plant infuse their delicate flavor and aroma into a filling of glutinous rice studded with a variety of ingredients including chicken, roast pork, Chinese sausage, peanuts, and black mushrooms. 

pam – what was the dim sum that we had in shenzhen? i remember it was spectacular. i want to say squash but i think i am wrong????

Shrimp dumplings (har gau) Tender, semi-translucent dough pleated in a distinctive half-moon shape around a shrimp filling and then steamed. Dedicated dim sum diners judge a teahouse by the quality of its har gau.

we always order chinese greens in garlic…for those whose chopstick skills aren’t 101 per cent excellent we find the smaller choy sum to be nice and manageable. remember, it is not bad etiquette to lift your bowl up to your chin when eating.

and don’t leave out the sauces!not just the soy…try the vinegar! especially with the chives bit.

Now, while some people prefer custard tarts for dessert, i am an advocate of chilled mango pudding with chunks of mango littered about, topped with unsweetened heavy milk.

ode to kmm

when i was four i met one of my lifelong best friends.

marie lived next door to me. she was a grade older than me, so after school, if neither of us had friends over, we would play together. she had the COOLEST playhouse ever…it had RUNNING WATER and was TWO STORIES HIGH.

we moved when i was 10. three years later, when it was time for me to make my annual exodus from yellowknife (i would get infections and fevers from black fly bites), my mum asked marie’s mum if i could come and stay. marie’s incredible Christian parents said, of course.

(just like they said of course when my parents wanted to take their first holiday together since we had been born. marie’s parents stepped in and invited pam, graeme and i to stay at their house for two weeks. they even took in our dog! i remember every night marie’s mum made our dog a baked potatoe for dinner, with sour cream and onions and probably bacon bits as well.)

marie and i had a great summer. we did a lot of laughing and talking about beaus and being skittish teens, nothing serious…fun and food. west edmonton mall had recently opened, and we were mall rats, going to galaxy land and not having to pay for the rides because marie was so cute that the ride operators let us all ride for free.

the next summer, marie got a part time job. fortunately it was at an ice cream shop. and then the next summer, at mcdonalds. and then she was old enough for retail. each summer was a little different…took us a little closer to "growing up". each summer had a different cast of styles, songs, expressions, hangouts and boys. i can still remember them.

and then i turned 17 and my parents said i needed to start working as well. fair enough. the next summer i was in edmonton, upgrading.

over those four summers, we had maybe two serious talks. but pushed reality and unpleasantness away very quickly. she didn’t ask about epilepsy or my family, and i was glad. it was all about endless summer nights, tanning with baby oil, sleeping in the trailer (and having neighbours chasing away the boys that came knocking on the trailer windows), and being young.

at times, i wanted to ask her questions. to really get to know her. but i didn’t. asking questions might reveal how insecure i was. marie seemd to have an existence from a book…glossy blonde hair, cool second hand car her dad had fixed up for her, the entire collection of bobbsey twin books in the bookshelf, a piece of paper stuck to the fridge that read:

the three steps to success

1. start strong

2. keep going

3. finish well

during the university years, there wasn’t a lot of contact. occasional phone calls became irregular calls.

i saw marie when she was the maid of honour at her sister’s wedding. my mum and i agree that marie’s sister was one of the most beautiful brides we had ever seen. almost as overwhelming was marie, who had tears coursing down her face the entire ceremony. one of the deepest exchanges we had shared came when she told me afterwards, "Everything is changing".

a while later, she met someone. and from the sound of her voice when we talked, i knew he was important. she sounded different than she had a year ago. they became engaged. she was ready for change.

huge surprise, she invited me to be a bridesmaid. i had teased her about it, but didn’t think she would ask me. so when she did, i was delighted and accepted immediately. i stayed at marie’s parents house with marie the night before the wedding. it felt incredibly special to be there. they had always treated me as family.

the next morning, i watched my friend transform herself into a bride, and later that day, a wife.

i was transforming too, and i had to leave the reception early to catch a plane to montreal for an interview that would take me to vancouver, to an asian pacific management course. i passed the interview, and was off to vancouver, and a short while later…hong kong.

marie didn’t have internet, magnificent and i had no money, so there was little communication.

but when i got engaged, and was choosing bridesmaids, i immediately thought of marie, who was pregnant…with twins!!!!

i was looking at an online wedding advisory and the site advised that so not to put undue pressure on the person, ask them for a lesser role. if they say yes, then say, "great! wanted you to be a bridesmaid but didn’t want to pressure you."

she was due in october, the wedding was 31 july…she declined. fair enough.  and in october, delivered two divine girls.

somewhere down the line, after marriage, our discussions took on a serious level. when i saw her as an exhausted new mum. when she saw me as an exhausted new mum. she started it. told me how tough parenting was. it surprised me. marie…my cheerful, confident friend? daunted? i hope i said the right things. i don’t remember if i did. but i could see our friendship was changing. and we were both ready for it.

the next time we met, sebastian was about four months old. i dropped him at marie’s parents place during a whirlwind trip to canada, we hired a professional sitter to look after all three kids, and we went shopping. we did shop, but we also talked. five hours of sharing, laughing, and, confiding. real emotions. we were passed the, "i am really worried that i look fat in this", to which the other would respond, "well, i am really worried that i should have bought both colours of this skirt" stage.

i can be standing at the cash register at cinnabon (we still eat and shop when together…we have it down to a science…two small meals and one snack over a 10 hour period), look at marie and see the girl she was, the woman she is. she hasn’t changed that much externally. but internally…

life has changed us.

love has changed us.

God has changed us.

learning has changed us.

it is a joy to be with marie. especially since our time together is short, we treasure it. we are both happy and know we are blessed. so we can talk about trials and how we solve them, multiples issues, marriage issues and anecdotes. all the while knowing this is a person i have known and laughed with for over 30 years. she knew me then, she knows me now. we know each other’s issues, and insecurities. there is history, there is future. there is a depth to this friendship, an honesty, that makes me free to share. i dont’ blindly adore marie like i used to, time has given me confidence, instead of trying to be like her, i am happy being me, so she now can see the real me i was too insecure to show all those years ago.

this last visit, where a salesperson asked if we were sisters, i told marie how much she meant to me. how i walk away from our visits happy, reminded of how lucky i am, and how good it is to be honest and share with her. she said, "i know".

it is no wonder that carys’ middle name is marie. and may both my daughters, as well as c&e know the beauty of long term friendships.

the music mum

music is a big part of our life. events increase in entertainment, lessen in irritation, and are committed to memory when put to song.

being an internet romance, magnificent and i dreamed about our first kiss for months. so when it FINALLY happened, and was not technicolour perfect, we made it into a song. (never fear, the second one was paint peeling fantastic.)

and when we kiss

we never miss

except the first time

we hit the half line

but that’s okay

we kiss today

and get it right

when olivia went through her i hate xia xia phase, mc and i drowned out the screams with this carpenters inspired tune.

why does xiaxia suddenly appear

whenever olivia, is near?

she can’t tell

olivia chooses hell

to being close to her

(laaa la la la la…close to her)

our wedding day, charles surprised me by handing out new words to one of our two wedding songs: leaving on a jet plane. (the other was dream a little dream of me). in the song he detailed places we had travelled, threw in our pathetically few hong kong expressions, along with vintage magnificent chuck phrases.

a few months after our wedding my gran was in a shop and heard "leaving on a jet plane" and she had to stop and tell the shop assistant that the song was in her granddaughter’s wedding. music is like that. hearing a song takes you back to that time, and the emotions of it.

there was no infertility song, because there aren’t really a lot of words that rhyme with:

my year is divided into 12 chances to get pregnant oh wait only six since my ovaries are procrastinators and i can’t go to mexico to my dad’s 60th birthday party because i can’t afford to celebrate with the family because we are paying for the ivf and we never plan ahead because we are hoping that we will be pregnant and cant take the holiday we can’t afford anyway and all my friends seem to be getting pregnant on their honeymoons and think i want to hear how terrible being pregnant is.

my period is never late

and i don’t ovulate

was about as far as i got.

when i finally did find out i was pregnant, charles and i were 13 time zones apart. i couldn’t think of a good enough song, but i did come up with a poem, and that’s how he learned of impending fatherhood. i was thinking of another song at the time,

every time i try to tell you the words just come out wrong

so i have to say i love you, in a song.

it’s not such a surprise that i sing to the kids a lot.

"i like the way you’re cleaning up

i like how carys is cleaning up

picking up the planes and cars

because we’re done with the blocks!"

i have a song for each of my children. sebastian and i sing his together, with him finishing the last word of each line. in the playroom i have to sing the triumverate’s favourite songs three times, especially crowd favourites like "head and shoulders knees and toes", "the grand old duke of york" and "wind the bobbin up". every time i finish a song i pick one child off my lap and make room for the next who is fighting off a sibling and trying to land on my lap. we’re our own moving circle of life.

i am certain that in years to come i will not be singing to the posse nearly as often as i do. when i do make up impromptu songs about their day, they will not be amused.

someone snapped sela’s bra

not so ha ha ha

jasper’s voice is cracking fast

seb’s zip is at half mast

carys’ new boyfriend won’t last

mum, if you can’t be cool, could you at least be quiet? everyone thinks you are so weird singing all the time. and like, your voice is, like, hashing.

and i will stop singing. because you can’t sing and sigh simultaneously.

but i will say, defiantly, "you used to love it when i sang to you. you would all fight, even you sebastian, to sit on my lap when i sang to you."

but i will remember their songs, just like i remember the songs of life passed by. and years from now, when i am walking past a playground and hear "you are my sunshine", the thin veneer of moisture covering my eye will be enough to make me think the young mother sitting on the grass is me, singing away to the so loved little people who put the tunes in my heart.

multiple musings

in the past 10 days, several people have nicely or not so nicely drawn my attention to the following.

1) calling jasper, sela and carys by a collective name aka: the triumverate is bad for their self esteem. they will grow up thinking they are not individuals and appreciated for their unique talents and all i see them as are "the triplets".

2) i have no right to complain about the attention THE TRIUMVERATE get if i dress them alike. dressing alike BEGS people to pay attention.

3) making them share a bedroom is not a good thing, limits their individuality, they won’t be able to sleep alone ever, they are co-dependent.

my responses to you all:

1) so does this mean i need to refer to my parents as "my mum and dad"? i TREAT my kids as individuals and i don’t really think it matters what i call them, as long as i say it with love. would you ever say this to a person who didn’t have multiples and referred to her children as "my kids"? i don’t think so. calm down your tiny hormones.

2) if i throw jasper in a dress, i think you’re on to something. until that day, you don’t have a leg to stand on. i dress my girls alike NOT for the attention, rather because:

a) 100 years ago i was a girl, and i had a sister. we took great delight in informing my mother that the other sister always got to wear the nicer clothes. (of course, my mother should have cocked an eyebrow and said, "well tess, since you wear all her hand me downs, take comfort in the fact that once the outfit is faded, ripped and mended, you will be wearing it!) i don’t need that hassle. i dress them alike, so in years to come they can both submit identical "you dressed us in crap clothes" petitions and i can light them and use them to burn the portion of the will that leaves any money to them.

my girlfriend steph dresses her four boys all alike and they aren’t multiples. no one says she’s in it for the attention.

b) when i am shopping for clothes, what am i supposed to do? buy one set of leggings that were va-voom cool, and then a second that i don’t really like as much, but hey, i need more? and then when i am dressing them wonder, well, who should wear the outfit i don’t like? NO INDEED. i don’t need that hassle. i am neurotic enough about my parenting skills without extra ammunition.

c) identical outfits…easier to keep track of kids.

d) i’m guessing no matter what they are wearing, seeing four kids clumped together in a shopping cart, on a four seater tricycle, or seeing both parents carrying two children gets attention.

3) so in order to develop their ability to sleep alone (which does ensure they won’t be having meaningless sexual relations in college just to get someone to stay the night…thanks for looking out for them), i should let someone sleep in a closet? or outside? we don’t have a plethora of bedrooms in the house and maybe i should wait until the trio are out of cots until i put them in bunkbeds. i could be wrong.

sebastian makes up little stories in bed and talks out loud. nothing wrong with his creativity. and besides, in years to come, can you imagine the excuses they will come up with as to why they can provide proof that they absolutely did NOT make that disgusting smell, it was the sibling next to them?

i don’t recall anyone critiquing my parenting skills (or lack thereof) when there was just sebastian. and believe me, it was not because i was doing such a perfect job.

do people think with multiples i need multiple opinions?

animal house

tame animals all have their quirks.

whenever olivia the cat hears the can opener cranking away, she dashes to the kitchen. whenever my childhood dog heard the front or back door open, he would run to it. each time that my parents had decided nipper the cat was criminally uncaring, he would redeem himself. and whenever xia xia, cat of my dreams was particularly excited, she would claw herself up the drapes.

some people begin to look like their pets. my children are becoming my pets.

in the 30 minutes before mealtime, if jasper hears the bleeping of the microwave oven, he will begin to half heartedly sob and hustle towards his highchair. the kid could be pavlov’s dog. today he WALKED three steps to the kitchen, then crawled to the eating area, all because i pressed the button that cleared the screen and restored the microwave to showing the correct time once again.

sela has fast forwarded herself to her teen years. home is like, so, you know, boring. no way! way! after her 8.45am nap, i let her down from her cot and she trots to the front door. waiting to be let out. she bangs on the door if we are taking too long in the getting ready to go outside process. she gets angry if we take sebastian down to the school bus and don’t take her with us. what is so repulsive about home? she’s happy to eat here and watch telly….but happier to escape. she’s like mel gibson in braveheart, "Freedom"!

sebastian. really back into the school swing of things, he has added charming expressions like "ooh ooh poo poo" to his vocabulary and did i mention he told someone to shut up the other day and that he called me stupid. (way! said sela.) i feel like i am choosing all the wrong battles and through my appalling parenting am ruining him. so then today sebastian goes to play with anjali, his best turtle school gal pal friend. she’s lovely, anjali is. and i go to pick him up, and anjali’s mother, who is a teacher, could only say how wonderfully the two got along. it wasn’t the knowing that i haven’t ruined him (yet) that made me cry for relief, more that he could have fun. she commented on his creativity, which is one of sebastian’s most stellar features.

and young carys. besides weeing all over the bathroom floor while waiting to get into the bathtub (where everyone else wees), she has this unpredictable manic burst of laughter or energy that comes from no where. she will cackle and race around screeching in her hoarse little demi moore voice, and then the full moon receeds in her mind’s eye, and she goes back to stacking blocks or ripping books off the shelf.

my children are house animals.

not toilet trained, of course.

ambient ambience

another reason to call him magnificent.

charles and his california based boss returned to hong kong from china late friday night.

saturday night, they had a dinner. for that matter, so did i. however, when i had made the plans for the girls night out, i had overlooked that saturday was a public holiday (national day), and helpers automatically get the day off. end result: charles went out for his business dinner, i stayed home.

i called mc at midnight, which is unusual for me. i wasn’t checking up on him per se, it was more like i knew he was leaving again in 12 hours for five days this time, and there were things we needed to talk about. silly things, but things none the less.

he said that his boss (quite cool from what i can gather) had not been to an asian karaoke, and they were going. i looked at the clock and said, "okay, just remember, you leave tomorrow, sebastian loves spending time with you, and tomorrow morning is the only time you two will have all week to be together."

mc walked in the door at 3.15am this morning. fell asleep very quickly, and no surprise at all, was up with the trio at 6.40am this morning. and sebastian. sure, he plugged sebastian into a video, but the point is .. he made the choice to go out and still lived up to his responsibilities as a dad. tres happy i married him. even though he is in india right now.

interesting new quirks are unleashing themselves at the team caldwell corrall.

first let me say that no one fell out of the shopping cart on saturday. we took two booster seats with us and they made all the difference. we had a good family shop and then went to the playground in front of park n; shop in bagio villa for a 20 minute play. so it’s nice not to have that red bruise reminding me what a terrible parent i am.

sebastian has a "special blanket". although he has always been fond of sb, it isn’t a linus-like situation. we don’t take special blanket with us on holidays, and sebastian has never trailed around the house carrying it. if SB is being washed when he goes for a nap or to bed, there is no scene. he knows SB belongs on his bed, and that if he wants to cuddle SB, the place to do that is in his room.

but his fondness of SB is very touching. the other day i was folding the very freshly laundered SB, while sebastian was eating his lunch. he was sitting 12 feet away from me, and i called out his name, and when he looked at me, i lifted up SB. his reaction to SB was just the same as it always has been. he put his lips together in a smile, breathed out his nose and laughed, an affectionate, loving laugh that he gives when he sees something he loves. i see his face run through the same contortions when he catches sight of me waiting for him as the school bus pulls up. it isn’t a laugh of joy, it is the physical show of the security washing over him. 

jasper is not walking. but he is standing. and then sitting. jasper used to burst into noisy tears whenever i laid him down for naps, but not any more. he stands in his crib for a few minutes, then i assume lays down (because he sleeps laying down, so that is a pretty good assumption i figure..unless he falls and hits his head?) and pushes himself to the corner of his crib and slumbers away. jasper is also learning to hold his own spoon, and he gets so carried away with the applause that comes with holding the aforementioned spoon that he forgets to put the spoonful of food in his mouth and starts crying with hunger and because no one is feeding him. upon sighting his empty bowl, jasper will put down his spoon and wave both hands, exclaiming, "ahhh gah", his version of "all gone" (or all done, im not sure).

the girls have a very endearing new habit which i cannot take credit for at all. during nappy change time, we roll up the dirty nappy and place it to the side. after the new nappy is on, we put the girls on the floor, hand them the dirty nappies and ask them to please put it in the bin. and they do. doesn’t sound like much but oh goodness it is sweet. even cuter if they are buck naked and about to head into the bath.

oh, better run, sebastian is ready for dinner. he gets to choose which sibling will eat dinner with him at his tiny table, and together the two enjoy eating by candlelight because, "a candle is ambience, mummy."

the first amendment

just to clarify: the intent of the last post wasn’t to say "no one makes an effort for me" … or to get the six emails from VERY kind friends who asked, "you didn’t mean me, did you?" the answer is no.

i was referring to people you have a long history with, and the phenomenom of, "you left. if you want to see us, you come here."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

i don’t know how large families manage to get everyone everywhere they should be.

today i had a 3pm appointment to interview someone from a law firm to see if i could get their perspective on a new employment law in china. my deadline on this is monday, it’s crunch time. (i also have to complete another 2100 word story as well for the same day.)

so i am compiling some rough notes and enjoying the relative peace. babies are just stirring, and mila goes in to get them. lita is on a much deserved two week break right now: it is her daughter’s first birthday and we sent her to the philippines for two weeks in june and promised her two more in september if she survived the summer. she did, and the other day she left. sebastian is downstairs playing with adam.

my idyll is smashed with the ring of the phone. it is adam’s helper, asking who is coming to sebastian’s football practise. foot ball starts at 3pm and ends at 4pm.

i could ask adam’s helper to take sebastian, but that wouldn’t be fair, as nilda will be caring for adam’s little sister as well as adam. stacking her with three kids in a taxi wouldnt’ be fair, or probably you know, safe, i think as an afterthought. *

i could ask mila to do it, but there is no way that i could handle an interview whilst watching the babies. even if i plugged them into a video, there is no way they would stay still for 30 minutes. or quiet.

so the interview is a loss. i reluctantly call to cancel it, while firing socks, playshirt, trainers and drinks into a plastic bag (no time to dig around and find the backpack) and race out the door.

and i have TWO HELPERS!

how do families do it? how to you make multiple appointments? does driving make it easier? whose appointments are more important? i don’t see a lot of mothers with older children in tow at these practises, it always seems to be younger children toddling about. is that what you do? bring along the younger to the older’s events? what if they are simultaneous? i feel my blood pressure rising just thinking about this. i was a dismal failure at career mum and full time mum today.

oh well…hopefully i can get everyone in bed so i can conduct my 7.30pm interview with some fellow in america in relative peace.

* as we know from earlier posts, i am quite willing to place my children in physically dangerous situations.

out of sight, (not george clooney) out of mind

hong kong is a transient city. depending on if you like the exiting/arriving folk, this can be good or bad.

in the past two years, i have had to say goodbye to two very good friends who obviously cared more for their husbands and families and careers than going to shenzhen and sharing overpriced american magazines with me. 3a and 12a…i miss you both.

when the person moves, they send out their new contact details, and hope to hear from you soon. but it seems like they, although up to their eyeballs in sorting curtains, unpacking boxes, soothing displaced children, have the additional task of maintaining the friendships they left behind.

they left, so it is up to them to make the effort.

even when discussing a visit…the mindset seems to be they would have to come back here, to the place they left.

because i love these friends, and will always be grateful for the quiet hours of sympatico and laughing we spent together, i make the effort for them. i will call them just as often as they will call me. how is this for friendship…i have been housing a piece of abandoned wedding cake in the fridge for two years now, hoping i will have a chance to hand it over to its rightful owner sometime in the future.

then there are other numerous other friends who leave, but i don’t maintain the same contact with. why the discrimination?

when charles and i left canada, we experienced the same phenomenon. we were probably just as busy as everyone else, but we were the ones having to make contact. of course, we missed the comfort of home, and that is what we were calling sometimes, but the fact remains, for the majority we made more of an effort than others made for us.

of course, there are exceptions to the rule. my sister, who loves travelling, chooses to come HERE on her holiday. she could go to an exciting new destination, but she doesn’t. she also loves the food and shenzhen, but i think the kids are pretty strong drawing cards.

my parents live in the same city, my three siblings live in the same city. yet every year we get away from our lives, to just be with our family. no television, music, computers, just our family. for two weeks to talk, argue, eat, walk, swim, and laugh.

others claim they are too busy. or they aren’t writers "you’re a writer, you have no excuse for not writing!". and we also have to realise that not everyone shows their affection by writing. or sees including you in the important details of their lives as a sign of caring. the pattern seems to be, if it is really bad, or really good, we hear from them.

i know my gran loves me, but the whole calling overseas thing is a bit daunting for her, and i think she secretly fears that jasper would fall over the balcony if i took my eyes off him for a moment to talk to her. so she doesnt’ call. but i know that she loves me.

other people, friends, don’t have an excuse.

i’ve had friends that have left their hometowns or countries, and they express the same sentiments. just today a friend was saying she goes a year without hearing from her brother. but he always writes her a thank you note after Christmas.

is out of sight out of mind a good enough excuse?

free falling

are child models kept in bubble wrap except when they are on a shoot?

i don’t understand how child models have such scar free faces. remember when mary kate and ashley olsen were five years old and it was okay that they weighed 50 pounds? their pale little faces showed no residue from a scrap, fall, scrape or fight.

sebastian has a variety of marks all over his hands, arms, legs and face. a thin white line on his forehead reminds us of the time his dad was washing the car, left a door open, sebastian scrambled in and then fell out. at least he kept his teeth. there is scar on his cheek from a fight with a friend. a toothmark from hubie on his upper arm. and he’s not even four.

how can these gap and polo kids be so mark free? maybe they have better parents than mine do.

stop rolling your eyes…read on.

today team caldwell went to the grocery store. it was typhoon three but nothing too serious. jasper rode in magnificent’s trolley, and i got the other three, sela belted in and sebastian and carys in the trolley bit.

all was going fairly well, i was singing the train song and doing a quite good job of it when i heard a scream. a justified scream. because carys was falling out of the cart.

she banged her head on the chilled metal counter that holds the yogurt and then crack, landed head first on the concrete floor. everyone screamed, carys loudest of all. i was so relieved. i picked her up and she screamed for about one minute while i bounced her up and down, checked her ears for blood, her pupils, her head for any cracks and indications of blood gathering under the skull, and her vision. after a minute of frantically singing her latest favourite song, the grand old duke of york, she stopped crying.

needless to say, the observers (and there were plenty of them) had plenty to say. some comments were supportive "she’s a trooper!" (true) others were, "poor little baby" (also true).

last week sela fell. what made me think that with sela being belted in that my kids would be out of the free fall zone?

i have injured my kids before. falling off sofas and landing on the corner of teak coffee tables, falling off change tables (not on my shift, but still), lifting up sebastian to put him into the baby bjorn and cracking his head on the ceiling….but this was preventable. i had PRECEDENCE. could have prevented it and didn’t.

so now i am worried that carys is going to have epilepsy and it will be my fault. not that i gave it to her genetically, but that i let go of her and she cracked her head open. hey, that’s how i got it, why shouldn’t it happen to my little girl? NOT PLEASED.

exchanging silence for safety

flashback: in 1978 we lived in edmonton. i remember the commonweath games were in the city that year, and idi amin was coming to visit. we all got a lecture about how not to talk to dark skinned strangers in shiny dark cars during the commonwealth games.

today: tuesday is sebastian’s library day. often, he let’s the librarian select a book for him, because all his favourite books: franklin, the tiger who came to tea, harry the dirty dog, canada ABC’s, he has at home.

the zip made by ripping apart the velcro flaps of his book bag were nothing compared to the rip through my heart when i saw the title of the book: DON"T TALK TO STRANGERS.

it has begun. according to the book, you should turn your back and run from, ignore or not talk to someone unless they are a person your parents have introduced you to, or a friend of a friend, or a teacher at school, or the easter bunny.

it know it is necessary. but what a bloody pity.

i remember during our edmonton days my then five year old brother met and "adopted" a couple who lived nearby. he would go to their home and eat biscuits and fizzy drinks. he gave them a lot of joy, sitting there and telling his jokes, pushing the trucks they kept around for their own grandchildren over the footstools and sofas.

the elderly love children. and they also love feeling that someone wants to talk to them. basically, i am going to have to educate my children that they cannot talk to anyone, unless i am with them to give them a nudge and say, "that’s all right". the element of spontanaety will be gone. it breaks my heart but it is necessary.

when people say, as i know i do, to other children in a playground, "hello", you can’t expect more than a "hello" back. particularly if you are not caucasian. i got dirty looks this summer from a parent for talking to his child about a the bucket he was taking away from sebastian.

children must be careful when asking people, do you know where my mummy is. because the wrong person could sweep them away. forever.

we are exchanging silence for safety. 

my sister in law told me that in canada the word secret is no longer used. the not telling daddy about the upcoming party for his birthday is not a SECRET, it is a SUPRISE. this is because bad people often tell kids what is happening is a SECRET. and we need to be teaching our children that there are no SECRETS that should be kept from mummy and daddy. 

but is it enough to follow the guidelines of this book? no way.

how many pedophiles have lured children away dressed as beloved and safe icons? MANY. this book should not be saying kids should approach the easter bunny. what is one of the reason’s that childrens’ restaurants and theme parks have bars and gates that slam shut the minute a child is reported missing?

the whole premise of this not talking to strangers is that no matter how nice they look on the outside, it is what is in the inside that counts. and even people your parents know, might not be nice.

a childhood friend of mine was sexually molested over a period of years by a family friend of ours. we all hung around in the same circles. but they were friends, right? the book said so.

remember holly and jessica? those two little girls were kidnapped and tortured by their teacher assistant and her boyfriend. their teacher lured them into their car. teachers are meant to be safe, right? the book said so.

here are the hard facts. of the too many children murdered each year, FEW are murdered by strangers. it is someone you know.

what can you do? this book is essentially useless. but even if those rules are essentially useless, you have to follow them, because if anything happened to one of my children, i would probably lose my sanity unless i KNEW i had done everything to street proof them.

between us, charles and i have four hands. and four children. one hand per child. but we cannot keep them at our sides forever. we can pray, we can teach them to use their better judgements, discernment, about warning signs and escape methods, but at the end of the day, we have to let them go. even, let them go out of sight.

don’t even get me started on the internet. we reviewing what we should pull and what information should stay. thank GOD hong kong is such a safe city.

as dangers crowd closer to home, it seems our children are only safe within the four walls of their home. unless you have a party, when people you know as friends whose souls might be strangers to you, enter your home, and possibly, invade lives.

THE MAJORITY OF CRIMES AGAINST CHILDREN ARE COMMITTED BY SOMEONE THEY KNOW.

may God grant wisdom to us all.