HAPPY VALENTINES DAY mua-ha-ha-ha....

Mick and I celebrated Valentines Day last night at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival's opening night of Macbeth. Mick found me wandering the halls at 3 this morning in my gauzy linen sheath, wringing my hands and crying, "Out, damn'd spot! Out, I say!"

It was an excellent performance, with a compelling set, stunning dresses for Lady Mac, and well-chosen actors for the lead roles - especially Macbeth, Lady Macbeth and the witches.

We both bought $100 Flex Passes yesterday, so we'll get to see the other five plays this season. The Flex Pass is good on certain days of the week in Feb-May and then in Sept-Nov. The tickets come to $20 each, where they can otherwise range from $40 to $90. Mmmm... I love a good deal.

AUBREY TURNED 7!

We had the girls from Aubrey's class, plus her cousins, over for a party. One of the girls, Rebekah (seated front left with her arms in the air) put a bunch of foil tinsel in Aubrey's gift. Yeah, that's always fun -- for the kids.

Rebekah also wrote this sign for Aubrey when the kids were drawing:

It's supposed to read "I Love Horses" so you can imagine how hard we tried not to laugh in front of Rebekah.

The partiers played a version of pictionary, each kid drawing something that the others had to yell out when they recognized it.


Mick decorated the bubble gum ice cream cake with a hand-sculpted Rice Crispies treats dolphin that he then frosted. Indeed, he's way cool.

Aubs opened her gifts.

Dane loves Aubrey.

And so does Karen!!!

Karen was here for the week of Aubrey's party and we had so much fun... starting with a little Red Robin birthday bash (okay, 'bash' is an overstatement, but it was fun) the night Karen flew in.

Happy Birthday, girls!

Valentine's Day is About Love
(a pasted note from Bright Horizons)

Just when it seems like the commercial excess of winter holidays is winding down, along comes Valentine’s Day and the advertising barrage of “spend for love.” It’s tempting to fall into the “give them all we can” trap to provide the most and the best stuff possible for our children (and the adults we love).

But Valentine’s Day is supposed to be all about love. Sometimes, between the giant, silver foil candies and the heart-shaped sugar cookies, simple love gets shoved into the shadows. With hectic schedules, we sometimes forget to create moments, not purchase things, for our children, and we just need a little reminder. Valentine's Day is a good place to start.

Cherished childhood moments are not made of expensive gifts or fancy parties, but of simple acts of snuggling, conversations, unhurried time spent together, and traditions repeated and passed down through the generations. Rather than buy something, make something — time and memories most of all.

Here are a few simple ways to show your child your love throughout the year:

Express “I love you” in words and notes. We are so busy showing our children that we love them, making money to provide for them, taking them places, and giving them things, that we sometimes just forget to say, “I love you.” Children often feel that they are only loved when they are good or when we are praising them.

Be with your child. Are we just rushing from place to place and chore to chore? Even though it’s difficult, turn off the radio, put down the cell phone, and be with your child, not just around him.

Make something with your child — for Valentine's Day and any other day. It doesn’t have to be a Martha Stewart moment. Keep it simple: make a heart, a note, a meal, a poem.

“Let go” of your guilt. Being a parent can be overwhelming at times. We often question whether what we are doing is right and if we are giving our children the love, attention, and discipline they need to be successful in school and life. There is no right way to be a good parent. Allow for your own mistakes and “let go” of the guilt.

Celebrate your child’s best efforts and successes. When our children were infants, they would look up searching for our smiles when they pulled up, made a toy squeak, or clapped their hands. Their every move was a triumph. With older children, we can still praise good grades, good manners, and more important, controlling anger, helping a friend, and playing soccer well, even if our child is not the best one on the team.

Model and teach your child about love, friendship, kindness, and inclusion. Valentine’s Day is a day that children learn about and express values. Whom to acknowledge? Selective card giving or acknowledging each member of a class or group? Expensive cards? Personal notes? Your child may need your help swimming through the currents of commercial excess and social acceptance.

Dream with your child. Remember as a child lying on your back and looking at the sky, naming the shapes of clouds floating by and thinking about life — just daydreaming. Simple thoughts and conversations can spark the imagination, plant a seed of curiosity, or begin a dream. Every job well done, every great act of generosity began with a thought, a dream. Hang out and dream with your child.

Watch your child sleep. Before you go to bed each night, spend a few minutes watching your sleeping child. Breathe in the calmness and know it’s all worth it.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

AUBREY and MISS PEREZ

Aubrey and I just read Fancy Nancy Posh Puppy again, a present from her kindergarten teacher, Miss Perez, when we moved. When we read the inscription Miss Perez wrote inside the book, Aubrey kissed her words and held the book to her heart, saying "I miss you, I miss you..."

Here they are above at our house in October when Miss Perez came up for a visit from Marin, wearing their matching socks.

LOOKING FOR CREATIVE INSPIRATION?

Hey all you garage salers and thrift store shoppers, check out what my friend Nia does. You can see her work featured today (this piece above) on the Design*Sponge blog, which is an awesome blog in general. You can also see her work at summerlandstyle.com, where you'll find she's done some insane, amazing designing and decorating. She's just brilliant.

THE STORE WARS

My kids love this. You(rs) probably will too.

Use the force and click here.

A SHAKESPEARE CUP RACER

Guess who raced in his first downhill competition?

Saturday was the kids' third day of a 6-week introductory course with MARA (Mt. Ashland Racing Association)--and look who chose to race the first race of the season!

Dane was excited to participate and ready to learn what had to be done. He got to race the giant slalom course twice, each time earning a 1 minute 50 second time. The second time he even took a big spill, but got up and stuck his ski back on in order to finish, which means he was cruisin'!

His classmates, who mostly chose not to race, stood on the sides cheering Dane on, shouting out how awesome he was. And, just so you understand the joy and generosity of that: the winner raced it in about 26 seconds and the average racer came in under a minute.

So, given that Dane had a great experience putting forth his personal best, you'll probably agree that he's pretty freakin' awesome, too.

Our girl in the fall.

UTTERLY DEADLY SOUTHERN PECAN PIE

an unfortunate description, but only so called
likely due to its sugary tasty goodness
Pecan pie is Dr. MLK's favorite

I made this pie for the MLK potluck. It turned out fabulous, probably because if you add enough sugar and syrup to anything, it's bound to be great. (Look at the ingredients, you'll catch my drift.)

I used my mom's no-fail crust recipe, but you'll have to email me personally if you want that one.

Here's the freebie pecan pie recipe if you want it. It's pretty straightforward. Use it next year with pride.

4 eggs

1 1/4 c. southern cane syrup (or dark Karo)

1 1/2 c. broken or whole pecans

1 c. sugar

4 tbsp. butter

1 tsp. vanilla


Boil sugar and syrup together 2 or 3 minutes. Beat eggs, not too stiff. Pour hot syrup in slowly, stirring. Add butter and vanilla. Put pecans in pie shell, pour syrup over top. Bake in moderate oven about 45 minutes or until set.

Netty's Brag Page - The Cousins Issue

My cousin, Lane, has four children, two children with Usher's II Syndrome. Children with this condition lose their sight and hearing typically by the age of 18. Lane and her husband, Todd, have faced this challenge with aplomb. They've created the Hear, See, Hope Foundation, hoping to find a cure by raising thousands and thousands of dollars for research with Oregon Health and Sciences University (OHSU). Here's the link to a Seattle KING-5 special that aired in December about local children experiencing something "For the First Time," where her infant boy, Dalton, receives cochlar implants and hears for the first time.



Mick's cousin, Andrew, who was a little fifth grader (I think) when I met him, is now an amazing and accomplished athlete. He swims competitively for Louisiana State University and was recently chosen to swim for the US Swim Team at the 18th World Maccabian Games in Israel. What a stud.

DRESS UP YOUR PET DAY
January 14 - Mark Your Calendar

Forget MLK, Jr. and all that business about equality and stuff. Why not focus on something really important, like finding a good pair of clogs for your gerbil, or knitting a nice vest for your ferret?


I don't have a pet, but if I did, tomorrow would be our day to shine. I think I'd put green rubbers on my pig.

WE'VE BEEN

INVITED TO A

MARTIN
LUTHER
KING, JR.

POTLUCK!

Yes, yet another reason to love Ashland. What a great idea, an MLK potluck celebration. And our host isn't even from here -- she's a recent transplant from New Orleans. How cool is that?

Marigny (pronounced MARE-IN-KNEE), Aubrey's friend Nora's mom, is having a shin-dig in honor of the late great doctor on Friday.

I've decided I'm bringing a sweet Southern Pecan Pie, which I just learned was his favorite dessert. I've never made a pecan pie before, but, for The Doctor, I'll try.

In our three years living in Marin City, filled with the largest population of African Americans in Marin County, I never attended a potluck in MLK's honor. I wish I had. It probably would've opened my eyes to yet another layer of understanding regarding racial issues -- although I believe my friendships from my time there provide quite a bit of that. (Seeing the Tuskegee Airmen parade through our little community was unforgettable, too.)

So...
You know what we're doing down here in Ashland to celebrate the life of a man who had a dream, why don't you let me leave you with a thought:

If you don't have dinner plans on Friday, why don't you join us by gathering some friends around your house and hosting a potluck in honor of a great man who had a vision for equality for all people?

If you do, let me know how it goes. You know I'll be eating a bowl of chicken gumbo from my "New" Orleans friend - and some kickin' good pecan pie.

MARRIED TO A DENTIST

A Story of Love and Teeth

When asked what it's like to be married to a dentist, my first response is glib: I get razzed for being the only parent who sends their kid to a sleepover without a toothbrush; I have a school debt load as big as a house mortgage; and, I'm expected to have perfect teeth and even better breath, which, in my experience, is not necessarily always simultaneously possible.

But then there's the response that's not glib, but heartfelt -- as true as anything I've ever believed -- and the only way it can be expressed is to put it like this: I can't separate out my particular dentist guy from his dentist job. Together, they make him the dentist I'm married to.

Let me explain.

My particular dentist guy was once an unfulfilled manufacturing and plastics engineer who drew computerized pictures of a 737 airplane's wing rivets for The Boeing Company, and, later, designed waterski and wakeboard bindings for the likes of world class skier Andy Mapple for O'Brien Watersports. Cool enough stuff, to be sure, but that same engineer guy would come home disappointed that he'd sat at a machine all day and/or had only spoken to one or two other human beings -- about nothing that meant anything to him -- throughout the course of a day.

Then my particular engineer guy got laid off and couldn't find more engineering work and fixed houses as a contractor for six months -- and somewhere in there he observed his younger brother at work as a new dentist. There, he saw immediately how he, too, could use his hands, his head, and his heart all in one fell swoop: by being a dentist guy.

After watching his brother treat the whole person -- seeing how the mouth was the gateway to health for the rest of the body (doctor), watching his brother's hands move in intricate and detailed ways in a small space (engineer), and listening to the care, banter, and concern shared between patient and dentist (human being) -- he decided to make a career change.

He returned to college at 33, taking three years of pre-requisite classes from the school where he'd graduated seven years earlier. During his final quarter of pre-requisites, he filled out dental school applications, wrote a killer statement of intent (thank me very much), and earned himself a seat in the University of Pacific's three-year program, the only one of its kind in the nation.

After a mighty garage sale where we sold everything we could think to sell (mostly the quiver of free wakeboards he'd aquired) we packed up our 3-year-old and 4-year-old kids and moved ourselves to San Francisco for a life of school, loans, and part-time work.

We've never looked back.

School was challenging and scary -- after all, we'd put everything on the line to pursue this -- and sometimes the requirements felt elusive. But, in the end, it was fulfilling and thrilling.

My dentist guy, who's just bizarre enough to think it's funny that the time to go to the dentist is "Tooth Hurty," and who thinks Eugene Levy's nerdy dentist character in that Christopher Guest mockumentary, Waiting for Guffman, is highly quotable -- "People ask me if I was the class clown [smug nod]; I tell them, 'No, but I sat next to him, and I studied him' [smug nod followed by pathetic Johnny Carson impersonation]" -- comes home from work happy every day, deeply moved by the lives he's encountered.

Staying true to HIPAA's confidentiality code, he tells me no names or places, but his eyes water nearly each and every night as he tells me about hardship, victory, silliness, or gratitude he's seen or experienced in the mouths or lives of his patients. He never got that as an engineer. Granted, some engineers don't need it, and, admittedly, some engineers manage to get it somehow, but my guy needed something extra and dentistry is how he gets it.

So when he leans against the kitchen counter at age 41 and talks to me about his work with tears in his eyes, I'm very clear about this particular guy who loves his particular job, and I hone in on that soft smile. I hone in on his lovely, if slightly imperfect teeth and his occasionally bad breath, because, well, sometimes you just can't have it all -- but I know you can come close.

Dane Had A(nother) Dream

Dane woke up this morning, super excited to tell me that he'd just had a dream where he and his buddies (Logan, Avery, Eli, Jacob, Josh) were all chanting "All Hail George Lucas!" at some sort of "I Love Star Wars" rally. The kid was just beaming with happiness.

A READ-A-THON
for grown-ups!

I used to LOVE reading contests as a kid. When that yearly reading sheet was handed out for the month-long tracking of books read, I would scan the rules immediately and start scheming about the ways I was going to fill that sheet up as fast and furiously as I could.

In primary grades, it probably started out with rules about picture books and page numbers, and I'd read the likes of Danny and the Dinosaur, The Tale of Peter Rabbit, and One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish.

Next, I probably moved on to all those Beverly Cleary books, The Chronicles of Narnia, Judy Blume, Laura Ingalls Wilder, Shel Silverstein, and Roald Dahl.

I remember how much fun it was to devour books my teachers had introduced me to, or that I'd seen my friends reading--but it was also fun to discover other books, maybe obscure ones in the school library that Mr. Rodahl showed me, or something my mom picked up from a friend at work.

In fact, that's how I remember coming across some of my most memorable books: biographies. My mom's co-worker brought in a bunch of books her boys liked, and they were the life stories of famous people. Usually they were famous people I'd never heard of, so the introductions were exciting to me, and it was in those books that I learned about people overcoming amazing odds to make something of themselves, or people who had to have enormous courage when they figured out what they wanted to do.

In those pages, I met Willie Mays, Eleanore Roosevelt, Martin Luther King, Jr., Helen Keller, and Amelia Earhart, and I lived for hours on end hunched up on a corner of the couch, bearing witness to their greatness and feeling like there could maybe even be a possibility for my own.

I didn't know it then, but book contests were all about exposure -- being exposed to all different kinds of ideas and people and events -- and they were all about time. They were all about honoring the act of reading -- of tuning out the rest of the world and entering another.

Okay, so why am I getting all nostalgic about these reading fests right now? Well, because after, say, 6th grade, I don't think I ever got to publicly try to read as many books as possible ever again. (Obtaining my Masters came close with gargantuan lists of great literature, but I had to analyze and regurgitate those for tests -- and so a bit of the joy was, let's say, compromised.)

And now my kids take part in these fun summer reading programs at the library where they get fancy pencils or pizza certificates or stickers when they fill a sheet of paper with books we read, and I have to admit I'm jealous of the little turkeys. I want the challenge! I want to make a list and get a prize! I want more exposure and honored time!

Alas, my dream's come true. I never told a soul, but somehow the book fairies read my mind and here at my new library, the Jefferson County Public Library, is a reading contest for adults for the month of January!

The goal isn't to read as many as possible, necessarily, but to read 5 books -- and this sheet of paper has this fabulous numbered list of lines for "author" and "book title." At the bottom is a simple questionnaire asking which book I liked best and why.

When I'm finished, I won't get a sticker or anything, but I will get to enter my questionnaire and submit it for a drawing, and maybe, just maybe I'll win a prize!

I have no idea what the prize is, but who cares? Folks, it's enough that it's a reading contest and I'm a contender.

Books I've started or am planning to read:
1. The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, by Michael Chabon (630 pages)
2. The Centaur, by John Updike
3. The Story of Edward Sawtelle, by David Wroblewsky

And 4 and 5 just might be amazing biographies my mom is going to bring home from work for me.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

This photo isn't meant to be some sort of metaphor for the new year - or the old one, for that matter - although if that works for you, feel free to embrace it.

No, this photo begs the question:

Does anyone else have this problem with poinsettias?

I mean, I love 'em and pet 'em and name 'em George -- and look what happens.

I just don't understand,...

BIG SHARE
AND THE
AMAZING
BIONIC EYEBALLS




If I were doing a report for my first grade class, I would start it out like this:

"My mom has the most amazing eyeballs!"

(That's an homage to Aubrey's presentation in case you missed it.)

Alright, I wasn't in first grade when my mom had her first cornea transplants -- I think I was in 6th grade or something -- but that's right, folks, my mom has someone else's corneas in her eyeballs.

That's the creepy part. But it's also amazing.

Growing up, I remember looking into my mom's eyes and being able to see the little ring of stitches -- and, later, scars -- around the edges of her eyes. I always thought of the rings as misplaced halos. I never told her that, but look at what I saw (her eyes are also brown, so this photo accurately re-creates my experience):


Isn't it ethereal?

She -- and her sister, Laurie -- had their corneas transplanted about 25 years ago when the technology was fairly new. But evidently that's about how long the transplants last.

So, here's what the doctors did again to one of Mom's eyes yesterday:


They implanted a lens and transplanted a cornea. They also did cataract removal. Isn't that absolutely amazing?

Why is the cornea so important?
I'm no expert, so I'll pass on what our friends at the National Eye Institute have to say:

Although the cornea is clear and seems to lack substance, it is actually a highly organized group of cells and proteins. Unlike most tissues in the body, the cornea contains no blood vessels to nourish or protect it against infection. Instead, the cornea receives its nourishment from the tears and aqueous humor that fills the chamber behind it. The cornea must remain transparent to refract light properly, and the presence of even the tiniest blood vessels can interfere with this process. To see well, all layers of the cornea must be free of any cloudy or opaque areas.

Its two main functions?

1 - It helps to shield the rest of the eye from germs, dust, and other harmful matter. The cornea shares this protective task with the eyelids, the eye socket, tears, and the sclera, or white part of the eye.

2 - The cornea acts as the eye's outermost lens. It functions like a window that controls and focuses the entry of light into the eye. The cornea contributes between 65-75 percent of the eye's total focusing power.

Considering all that, how's Mom doing?
I spoke with her on the phone last night and she said she had a headache (which she's had all week) and some pain. It didn't help that the light hurt her eyes when she tried to look at the flowers we sent her. (Uh, sorry, Mom.)

Other than that, she's hoping for full recovery. Soon. Which, if you know her, is SO my mom -- she's planning on working from home today, since the doctor says she can't drive for 24 hours. Doesn't that seem too short a time? Again, amazing.

She's doing great so far, and it sounds like there aren't many risks involved. Let's hope that's the case. I need her to keep reading my blog.

NU?

In case you missed it on the 12/25 post...

Christmas Day Conversation

Mom: Aubrey, I don't know if we'll be able to get a light bulb for your oven this morning - I'm not sure any stores will be open on Christmas.

Aubrey: Well, Mom... let's just go to a Jewish store!

For all our dreidel-spinning latke-noshing friends...

The Reynolds family wishes a happy holiday to you and your mishpocha. May you know that you bring great hope and pupik to this household.

MAZEL TOV!

WHEELCHAIRS AND CRUTCHES

Barritt, Indi and Aubrey were hilarious.
They wanted some interesting accessories
for their American Girl dolls...

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

I might as well take a minute to write this morning since we've been up since 5:30 -- when we heard Aubrey whispering "Dane! ...Dane! Santa's been here!"

She knew that without even leaving the perch in her loft, because Santa kindly left all our filled stockings under the fake tree in their room.


Out in the Living Room
Indeed Santa found his cookies and carrots and egg nog - and the notes the kids left him. (You'll see that Dane chose not to mince words this year and simply drew Santa a picture of a Lego character.)


This morning we found that Santa left them some notes, too:



And Aubrey and Dane found three fabulous gifts from the old chap:

Aubrey squealed as she opened the Easy-Bake Oven she's been asking Santa for for three years now. (For two Christmases they were recalled because kids were burning their hands? Hmmm...) And then she opened her Mia American Girl Doll, which came with a book, a couple outfits and little ice skates. She was so excited. She just knew Santa would get her that doll this year because she doesn't have any American Girl dolls -- and Mia-the-Ice-Skater is only offered this year. (Thank you for running such a sweet racket, A.G. company!) And, finally, if one of Mia's little friends pulls a Tanya Harding on her, Aubrey also got the American Girl Doll wheelchair she'd been hoping for.

Did I say Aubrey squealed as she opened her gifts? Well, so did Dane. The first gift he opened was his biggest -- and it was the Lego Star Wars Republic Attack Gunship, which, we learned, has the rare Commander Cody in it. The kids thought that was so cool they couldn't quit smiling. After Mick and I went for naps around 6:30 (Oh, I didn't mention that? Yes, we did - essential if you can swing it after a 5:30 Wassailing Wakeup) Dane stayed up and set up a majority of the kit on his Lego table. Now he's waiting for Mick to wake up and help him with the rest, practicing Jedi Math on his new Leapster. (This item looked like "Jeapster" on Dane's list - but Aubrey assured him that Santa would figure it out.) Later, we'll play a game of CLUE, Dane's third and final zippy gift from Santa. Can't wait! I want to be Miss Scarlett...

And the 'rents?
Santa hooked Mick and me each up with some books. Looks like Michael Chabon was his main squeeze this year:

Mick got The Yiddish Policemen's Union and I got The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay.

We also got the Heelys we've been begging for! (Thank you, Mom and Don.) Now we can glide all around Ashland with the kids...

Woooooooooooooo hoooooooooooooo!

AND For All Our Dreidel-Spinning Latke-Eating Friends
The Reynolds family is definitely aware of you. Peace and Happy Holidays to you, as well.

May you know that you bring great hope to this household; hence, the conversation in our home this morning:

Mom: Aubrey, I don't know if we'll be able to get a lightbulb for your oven this morning - I'm not sure any stores will be open on Christmas.

Aubrey: Well, Mom, [as if she can't believe Mom hasn't thought of this herself] let's just go to a Jewish store!

AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT.