Presenting My Girls...Part 1

I meant to follow my February post about the boys with some timely posts about my girls.  I do still have four fabulous daughters, and I'm finally taking the time to brag about them.  This post will be about the high schoolers, followed quickly (I hope) with another about the younger two.

#1 is nearly 17, and in many ways she is ready for adulthood.  She found herself a job last fall, which she worked through the school year and continues this summer.  She has been a great asset at Mooyah's and is frequently scheduled for the busiest shifts.  But she knows a minimum-wage job at a burger joint is only a stepping stone, and she is working to develop a network that will help her discover and develop her passions.  Last week she attended the Illuminate Women's Summit, attended by businesswomen from around Utah, and she made quite a few contacts and met a few potential mentors.

It would be really great if she also found a driver's ed mentor (ie. instructor), because two years after receiving her learner's permit (which she has had to renew), she is an adept, unlicensed driver.  The problem is her pesky high school and friends who keep her so engaged in other, more-interesting activities, that driver's ed class takes a back seat.  (Ha!)  Luckily, she earns school credit for her online PE course by riding her bike to work and back, and her great friends don't seem to mind driving her most places because she brings the party with her.



We are grateful that #1 has surrounded herself with good people.  It was a little strange to send her off to prom this past spring.  How did our baby get old enough to make flirty faces with a boy?!  I do think that her friends have brought out an even happier version of the girl we already loved.  She is a lot of fun with her siblings, as a result, too.  She wouldn't want them tagging along, of course, but she likes to joke with them and hug them and do nice things for them on those rare occasions when she is home and not sleeping.

#1 as Pozzo in "Waiting for Godot".
PHS Fall 2014 production.

Poster sketch by #1

As she enters her senior year of high school, we expect that #1 will continue to develop her love for acting, choir, and learning.  In her own time, she is training her skill in calligraphy and graphic design, and has completed several hand-drawn posters and other projects for those who recognize her gift.  She hopes to spend some of her class time as an intern at a local marketing firm, and has spent many hours putting together a resume.  She is keeping her options open with regards to life after high school, with plans to maybe travel, maybe attend college before serving an LDS mission (she would jump at the chance to attend BYU-Hawaii), or maybe pursue some business opportunities.  All of those options are within reach, and we keep telling her that no life path is set forever.  Just figure out what you want to do for the next three to five to ten years, and then feel free to reevaluate.

Fortunately for #2, the next three years are pretty easy to figure out.  As she enters her sophomore year, she is looking forward to more fun with choir and new fun with the school's audition D-Fusion dance team.  (It's essentially the junior varsity version of dance team.)

Left: #2 and #1 following their PHS Spring 2015 Choir Concert.  #2 was in Bella Voce women's choir; #1 was in co-ed Concert Choir.
Right: #2 following the PHS Spring 2015 Dance Concert.


These sisters ran a formal dress rental business last year, which they have now decided to liquidate.  But that business was a springboard to other opportunities.  #2 has spent several months developing her YouTube channel, which is all about makeup advice and instruction.  It's pretty great to be able to ask my 15-yr-old what concealer I should get, and she considers my price point, skin tone, and purpose before making a recommendation.  Prom was a good day for her, too, as it meant that she got to help her sister and friends get made up for the dance.

People don't just ask her for makeup advice, though.  #2 is probably the best babysitter around.  Children love her, she has unending patience and good disciplining techniques, and she strives to improve the homes of the parents who hire her--ie. she'll have the kids picking up while she cleans the kitchen.  (I wish I could have hired her to babysit herself ten years ago!)  Last school year, at the ripe age of 14, she took on a weekly babysitting job for four young children, which has turned into a daily job this summer.  Even when she's not with the children, helping them through homework and housework and playing and hugging, she is home baking their favorite treats and telling me all about how difficult one child was today, or how cute another is every day.  She is a good little mother for six hours each day, and she always looks forward to the next.  Next summer, when she has her driver's license, she can be a nanny in the full sense of the job, and she will rock it!

Spending time with two of her charges at their mother's recent wedding.

Bri putting her life on the line with #2.

Speaking of driving, #2's learner's permit is now the bane of my existence.  She will quickly finish any chore or accept any errand if only we will take her out on the road.  Unfortunately for me--and according to her--she is only a bad driver when I'm in the passenger seat.  Two nights ago, our family had the rare opportunity to eat with all seven of us at home, and the girls all let me know (including the two who don't drive!) how stressful it is to have me as the chaperoning driver.  Luckily for #2, her adopted aunt Bri and her real uncle Jacob and biological dad Kent and a host of other adults are willing to sit back and enjoy the ride with her at the wheel.  I guess they just don't care for their own safety as much as I like mine.

#2 is generous and loving and funny and a good friend to others.  I'm pretty sure she reached adulthood a year ago, so it's too bad that she has to wait three more years to have that legally recognized.  She talks about being emancipated and getting her own place (maybe with a roommate).  If she can learn to manage a budget and save some of her earnings, she'll do just fine on her own.  I expect, though, that being on her own will mean living with a family as their full-time nanny and traveling with them to interesting places around the globe.

When #2 ordered pizza asking herself to prom.  (She said no.)

A couple months ago, Kent led a Family Home Evening discussion about the expenses of adulthood.  We broke down for the children the costs of housing, transportation, eating, and socializing.  They saw that survival is possible on minimum wage, but education and quality of life really aren't.  We wrapped up the lesson by stating our clear expectation that by September 1 following their 18th birthday, each of our children will be out of the house and supporting her-or-himself.  So far, the first two don't seem to want to wait that long, so we will enjoy every minute of the remainder of their childhoods as they become adults that we like and love and respect.  We love these girls!

Cleaning the cheesecake off parents' plates after the
PHS Choirs Radio Show and dinner, December 2014

This One's For the Boys

The boys in our family are a little outnumbered.  With the female hormones that were going crazy a couple weeks ago, I was afraid the other five of us might scare Hubby and #5 away for good.  But they love us, and now they get props for sticking it out.

 #5 is in an interesting phase where he idolizes his father, tries to be like his father, but is also developing his individual personality.  He likes to run, and talk, and pop his pecs like his dad.  He is comfortable being the center of attention and wearing his heart on his sleeve.  For many years I've been grateful for the truth in the African proverb that says "It takes a village to raise a child."  A few weeks ago in Church, I saw the fruits of that a little bit.  Every first Sunday, the congregation holds a testimony meeting where anyone is welcome to come to the microphone and share their testimony of Jesus Christ, which usually accompanies a personal story.  We've taught our children to wait until the age of eight to share their testimony at the stand.  That was the highlight of #5's last birthday.  Just about every month now, he waits impatiently for the sacrament to be put away so he can go to the front and share his thoughts.  It is incredible to listen to him share a different impromptu message every month, and to see how comfortable he is in front of his ward family.  This last meeting, he testified of the power of fasting and prayer as he saw our ward's combined faith heal his friend's legs.  His friend had experienced complication with a virus that resulted in his legs being paralyzed.  A month later, #5 was up at the microphone telling everyone that he know fasting and praying work because he and his friend were out playing Ghosts in the Graveyard just two nights previously.  #5 looked over at his friend, gave him a wink and a thumbs up, and said, "Right Adren?"  His testimony was so sincere and so funny and so HIM that I wiped away the tears that gushed out as I stifled my laughter.  That kid cracks me up!

Sure, I'm a biased mother, but it seems the rest of his peers also find him quite likable.  Recently, his school held a vote in each grade to select royalty for the elementary school's Family Valentine Dance.  The children were told to vote for the boy and the girl who were the best leaders.  I guess they all recognize #5's friendliness and integrity, too, because #5 was crowned the Third Grade Prince.  He was pretty happy about it, but the title didn't go to his head.  We left the dance a bit early to grab a late dinner.  When #5 left his crown on a table at the burger place to go climb on the indoor playground, another child found the crown and claimed it.  #5 was just happy that the other kid liked it, so he let the younger boy keep it.  He has a very sweet heart.

Speaking of sweethearts, I'm pretty thankful for my own companion.  Most of our marriage has been good.  In the last two years, though, I've fallen more in love with Kent.  He likes to say that he finally reached adulthood at the age of 37.  As he turns 39 this week, I can attest that he's grown a lot recently as he discovered his purpose and has found ways to bring it about.  Kent's purpose is to give validation through valediction.  He wants people to know they are valuable, and why they are.  He wants all people to look for the good in others and express it while we can.  Kent spent the last three months writing a paper (which turned into a book) about the past four years of his life.  He wrote about the depression he's been through, the difficulties of being an entrepreneur, and the risk of trusting others.  He wrote about God showing up when Kent needed Him most, about receiving inspiration to make changes in his daily habits, and about creating a career that he finds fulfilling.  (If you want to read this 100-page book, he is excited to share it with you.  Just leave a comment and we'll figure out how to get it to you.)

I am lucky to be the one at his side as he's progressed through the changes in his life.  I love seeing the positive influence he is on others.  I am utterly grateful to go through the challenge of parenting with him.  He balances me out in our dealings with our children.  Plus, I think he's getting better looking with age, and I like to be the one on his arm.  Kent and I met 22 years ago, and I thank God often for bringing us together. I'm a lucky girl.

Happy Birthday Kent!

Primary Valentine's Activity

For almost a year-and-a-half, I've had the privilege of serving in my LDS ward (congregation) as the Primary President.  This means I get to work with the children under age 12, as well as their mid-week leaders and Sunday teachers.  I admit that this is not a calling I would have chosen for myself.  I really like discussing interesting topics with adults, and so I was at first a little sad to be looking at another three or four years away from the adult classes at Church.  However, the longer I've served in this calling, the more I've loved the work of it.  I've especially come to love the children and spending two hours each Sunday teaching them and having fun together.  Plus, we have five dozen other great adults serving in Primary, and I love getting to know all of them as we serve together.

We don't hold many non-Sunday activities for the entire Primary, but at one of the first trainings I attended, someone recommended that wards could hold separate activities for their Junior and Senior Primaries.  We had a lot of fun with the three-to-six-year-olds at a Saturday Easter activity for the Junior Primary last spring.  The older children, ages seven to eleven, had a summertime service activity that ended with ice cream sundaes.  Today, we held a Valentine's activity with the younger children, and it turned out great.  In this calling, I've come to learn that the internet is a great resource for ideas, so I figure it's my turn to pass along our activity ideas in case any other Primary leaders out there might be looking.

I worked with three other ladies on this activity.  One friend, Anney, made invitations and delivered them to every family in the neighborhood that has young children.  At the activity itself, the rest of us each ran a rotation.  As children gathered in the Primary room at the church, we played Hug Hug Kiss, which is just like Duck Duck Goose.  I had an inflatable pair of lips that the kids used to tag each other.  We then settled down a bit with a prayer and a song and divided the children and accompanying adults into three groups.  Each rotation lasted 12  minutes and we allowed three minutes for finishing up and moving to the next room between rotations, so the entire activity lasted only an hour.  

One leader, Tamara, put together a yogurt parfait bar.  The children layered granola and berries in yogurt cups, and enjoyed visiting while eating their treat.  Another leader, Amy, prepared a craft.  Each child was given a picture of a tree to color and stick heart stickers and paper hearts to the branches.  They were supposed to think of something they loved about someone, or something loving they could do for each heart on their tree.

I chose to plan the game rotation, and we held a treasure hunt throughout the church building.  I modified a treasure hunt found on Sugardoodle.net to make it a little shorter and easier for young children.  Each clue was printed on a white card stamped with a heart, so the children knew what to look for.  To avoid sprints in the church hallways, I gave the children the options of speed walking or skipping.  It was a joy to see each herd of pre-and-grade schoolers skipping toward the next clue!  Here are the clues we used:

Clue 1

Don’t drag your feet!

Walk fast, not slow!

Go find Clue 2

by a piano

 (I taped the clue to the piano in the Relief Society room.)

Clue 2

Wasn’t that fun?

Are you ready for more?

Go find Clue 3

by an outside door.

(The clue was taped inside an entrance breezeway.)

  

Clue 3

Move right along,

as quick as a wink,

Boys find Clue 4

Hidden under a sink!

(It was funny to watch the mental gears turn as the kids tried to figure this one : boys' bathroom.)

Clue 4

You’re halfway through

With your inspection!

Girls will find Clue 5

by their reflection.

(Girls' bathroom.) 

Clue 5

You sure are impressive!

Are you starting to perspire?

Go find Clue 6

near the tool that puts out fire!

(Fire extinguisher.)

  

Clue 6

Are you having a good time?

Are you in a good mood?

Go find Clue 7

Where we make tasty food!

(Taped to the microwave in the kitchen.)

Clue 7

You’re doing great

Playing this game.

Now go find the treasure

Near the missionary hall of fame!

 (I hid a gift bag full of supplies in the waiting area outside the bishop's office.)

You’ve found the treasure!

Now here’s what you do:

Leave a heart attack for the bishopric,

To them, from you!

Inside the gift bag, I had paper hearts, washable markers, and tape.  We leaders rolled bits of tape for the bishop's office door as the children wrote their names and little pictures on the hearts.  They stuck their hearts to the tape and covered the door.  I also left a large heart with this little verse:

With all the sunshine things you do,

The smiles you share, and singing too,

With all the teaching you make come true,

It's good to have a bishopric like you.

With love from, the Junior Primary

This treasure hunt took the exact amount of time for each rotation, with a little help from me pointing which hall to skip down.  They had just enough time to make their paper hearts before skipping back down the hall to their next activity.

After the rotations, we gathered again in the Primary room where we stood in a circle, holding hands.  I told the children that when our family prays together at home, we hold hands, and sometimes we'll give the person next to us three quick hand squeezes, which means, "I love you."  I told the children that we leaders love them very much, and then we all squeezed hands three times before sending them off with their parents.

The entire activity was quite simple, and I think everyone--adults and children alike--had fun and enjoyed being together.  If you have great Primary activities to pass along, I would love to read about them in the comments.  Happy Valentine's Day!

Cloch na Smoochan

The story of Kent's gifts to me for our first Christmas as a married couple is one that we enjoy retelling for laughs.  Truly, I was not heartbroken to receive a Scumbuster that year.  If there were any lingering feelings of disappointment, though, this year's gift erased them all.

Kent was surprised that I liked this year's gift so much.  After all, it was a quick order online, a coat of paint brushed on by #2, and a few minutes of writing.  Maybe the simplicity of it makes it even better.  There is so much for me to like about this gift: it's practical, it matches the decor without being obtrusive, it strengthens our marriage, and it came with a story.

Kent used to write for me.  When we first started dating, we would sit in a park and read each other's creative writing efforts.  It was his letters during his two years of missionary service in Mexico that revealed his soul and cemented my love for him.  Occasionally, I'll still get a poem for Valentine's Day, but his written wooing was mostly concentrated on our courtship.  When he does take a few minutes to write, and the words flow with no eraser marks, it makes me feel special.

Here is my Christmas gift:

The Kissing Stool (Irish: Cloch na Smoochan) was set into the White household late in the year of our Lord, 2014.

The father of the White family would arrive from his toils at the end of the day and find himself set upon by his affectionate wife.  The goodwife Mary would place her lips upon his, humming gently whilest her eyes closed.  No sooner had she cast him under her charms, but the spell was broken as she had to retreat from his embrace.

Making up the seven inches of
height differential.

The goodwife complained that her neck was too delicate to reach up at such an unnatural angle for any lengthy duration.  Seeing his wife distressed by the difficult circumstances in which they barely touched, the householder took it upon himself to make the difficult trek to the Amazon.  There, he found a worthy tree which would support the weight of their tremendous love.  He made the Kissing Stool, and presented it to her on Christmas day.

According to Legend, kissing while on the stool endows the kisser with the gift of great flattery, sweetened by humor and flavored by wit.


I love this guy! xoxo

Defining Purpose

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

As a child, that was an easy one to answer.  I wanted to be a writer.  Or an attorney.  Or an artist.  Or a game-show host.  In my experience, though, the closer one gets to adulthood, the more elusive that answer becomes.  There are so many wonderful and fascinating opportunities in this wide world and finite life that choosing just one feels intimidating.  What if I don't choose the most interesting career?  What if, after pouring time and money into becoming something, I change my mind?

As a teen looking forward to college, I knew that I wanted to learn business management.  Law was intriguing, too; but I also knew I wasn't interested in more than four years of college, so business won out.  In my first year of college, I knew that Kent and I would be married.  I then received direct instruction from God that, even though I wasn't much interested in babies and little children, Kent and I were not to wait to have several babes of our own.  Knowing that, I finished my degree quickly and settled into motherhood.

It was the most challenging thing I've done.  I poured myself into the work of diapers and feeding a family, organizing neighborhood preschools, and frequent trips to the park.  Sometimes it was rewarding, but mostly it was hard.  I pushed through it, knowing I was on purpose and believing the sentiments expressed in the following video were true.



As a young mother looking forward to the light at the end of the pre-school tunnel, the question changed to "What do you want to do when the kids are all in school?"

I wondered why I needed to change my direction.  Yet society indicated at every turn that while motherhood was fine and noble, I would again have every opportunity before me once the youngest child moved into first grade.  When that blessed day arrived, I did cherish the quiet hours during which I could finally catch up on laundry, balance some bank statements, and enjoy lunch with a friend.  Certainly, though, there was something more meaningful I should do with my time to contribute to humanity's cooperative; and maybe I could help out our household income too.  And so I took on lots of things that felt more important than cleaning my house and preparing after-school snacks.

Kent has faced similar decisions in the past two decades.  Like me, he is interested in everything and wants to try it all.  He's been a plumber's apprentice, a real-estate investor, a small-business investor, a door-to-door salesman, a phone salesman, an entrepreneur, a business consultant, an office-furniture guy, and now an executive for hire.  In the 14 years since college he's been involved in nine start-up companies.  It's been an adventure being married to a man with so many interests.

Our children are following in our footsteps.  We teach them that college is only an option, not a requirement.  They should feel free to instead start a business, travel the world, intern or apprentice, serve others, or find a job.  My teenagers know that they are intelligent and the world is full of opportunities and crossroads.  So how does a person narrow her choices and pursue just one?


I think that question needs to change.  We now ask our children, "What do you want to do for the next five to ten years?"  None of us need commit to a lifetime in one occupation or passion.  With so many options, and with decades before us, why not pursue several?  We need to give ourselves permission to change our minds down the road.  College and knowledge are always available.  We encourage our children to first choose a destination, and then define the path.  If college is part of that path--great.  If it's not--great.

I am 2 1/2 years into my youngest's full-day school career, and I think I may have chosen a path without a destination in my hurry to be doing something to contribute to income and satisfy the question of what to do with my quiet time.  As I ask myself what I want to do with the next five to ten years, another question begs, "What am I passionate about?"

I am finding that I am no longer passionate about what I have become good at.  I am also finding that my children's ages continue to define my purpose.  With #1 only a year-and-a-half away from adulthood, I've realized that I am not done being a mother first.  I truly love volunteering at the secondary schools to work with my children and their peers.  I like driving my children around to their various activities.  Field trips and dropping in for school lunch are fun.  I like being a thoughtful wife.  I want an organized and sparkling-clean home.  I could spend all day gardening, remodeling, or building furniture.

It seems pretty clear that my defining purpose for the next decade is as a homemaker.  I want to be the mom who chaperons choir tours and coaches my kids' academic teams.  I want to dabble in writing on the side.  I want to support my kids in their business ventures, and maybe even teach the child who wants to be home schooled.  I'd like to partner with Kent in a valediction project in a couple years.  Primarily though, I want to maintain and be a refuge for my family.

My current commitments continue to pull me away from that choice, and so I am in the process of defining my path away from those and back to my family.  I have to say, their pull is strong.  I know I could be an awesome manager for the charity I work for.  I could pour hours into my Church service and never come up for air.  But giving my time primarily to those occupations takes it away from my purpose.  I need to take my own advice: family is first--and--it's okay to change course.  This doesn't mean that I'll relinquish my Church service.  It just means I'll delegate more and be satisfied with less than I know I could accomplish there.  Additionally, I will work myself out of my paying job to let someone else takes those reins.

A moment with #5 earlier this week cemented my decision.  For nearly three weeks, he's begged me to give him a haircut.  This was unusual, given the other two haircuts that went bad, and considering how much he likes the hot-towel treatment at Sports Clips.  But I was confident that I could give him a trim without a bald spot.  Still, between work and travel and holiday prep, I had to put his twice-daily requests off.  Finally, I had 17 free minutes before school on Monday.  I pulled #5 onto a kitchen stool and got to work.  Midway through the cut, my 8-yr-old said, "Mom, you know why I wanted you to cut my hair this time?  It's because I like having conversations with you.  The stylist at the haircut place always talks to me.  Last time I heard her manager tell her she did a good job on conversation.  I like talking with you.  We have good conversations."  That was a slightly painful compliment to hear.  How many of these conversations have I missed by being too busy?

Here's another piece of my own advice that I need to take:  Out of all of eternity, I have each of my children under my roof for a minuscule 18 years.  My children should not have to wait for each month's hair growth to get my undivided attention for 17 minutes.  I am tired of shushing them so I can finish an email to someone who is paying for my time.  I have covenanted to the work of wife and mother, and I will now bring my purpose back to where I first promised it.  In another five to ten years, feel free to ask me what I want to be.  For now, I'm choosing motherhood.

Night Write

20 years ago, when I was in college, I began waking in the middle of the night.  That habit has been a bane to me for two decades.  As someone who can't stand wasting time--and with five children in the mix--I wouldn't let myself nap during the day.  Instead I would let my sleep deficit accumulate until I could sleep in until 7:00 a.m. on weekends.  I know, I'm sick.

Or rather, I thought I was.

Me in my goggles as I write this post.

Kent has tried for the past two or three years to fix my sleep.  He's found a variety of supplements to swallow, a software program that dims my screen during dark hours, and some sexy orange goggles to block out blue light waves from sunset to sunrise.  Those things have made some difference to me.

This year, as I approach 40, I started allowing myself an afternoon power nap; sometimes I'd even feel so sleepy after taking kids to school, that I'd grab a full-hour morning nap.

Yesterday, Kent sent me the following article, which has changed my perspective on my insomnia "problem" so I now realize it is a creative gift.

Why Broken Sleep is a Golden Time for Creativity

When life started demanding way too much of my time a year ago, I began using my middle-of-the-night wakefulness to squeeze in more work.  Often, though, I found my brain being too "loopy" at that time to trust the work I was doing.  I would go back during daylight hours and edit emails or fix bookkeeping entries that didn't have great clarity.  I also often felt drawn to write on this blog during those hours, but felt like that was a waste of a gift of a few hours of productivity.

Now I know that not writing during these hours is a waste of a gift of creativity.

I've wanted to be a writer ever since fifth grade when I composed a short story about a plant that grew out of an illustration in a book.  The book was left lying open on a bedside table, and during the night hours, the vine took life, grew out of the pages, and slowly strangled the sleeper in the adjacent bed.  I'm not usually one for dark stories, but I really loved how that story came to life as I wrote.

Unfortunately, the strong, logical part of my brain has suppressed my interest in writing ever since high school, instead favoring work and checking off to-do lists.

Last weekend, I accompanied Kent on a business summit, anticipating two days of quiet solitude in the hotel room.  The second day, I decided to take a look at a novel I started writing over three years ago.  Back then, I had written all the way through the first paragraphs of Chapter Two.  The book has been forming in my mind since that time, so I decided on Friday to at least jot my ideas into an outline.  As I re-read the first chapter I wrote three summers ago, I realized it's actually quite good writing.  Or, at least, I was pulled into the story and wanted to see what would happen next!  So I picked up at paragraph three of chapter two, and started writing what would happen next.  The afternoon flew by as I wrote, researched, and wrote some more.  It was so renewing to get those words on paper.

It is no coincidence, I think, that Kent would send me the above-linked article two days later.  I now see the gift that my segmented sleep is offering me to pursue writing.  Those loopy hours are perfect for creating fiction instead of addressing real life.  I now have permission from myself to take a one-hour nap during daylight so I can write for a couple hours at night.  Maybe I'll even turn out a novel in the next three years!

Incensed

While it was nice to get away for six days and focus only on each other, Kent and I did think about our children occasionally, and we decided it would be nice to bring them something from our trip to San Francisco.  Chinatown seemed like the perfect place to pick up a little gift.

We probably could have bought any junky toy with a "Made in China" sticker, but we decided to go a little more authentic. There was a little shop where passersby were welcomed by the smell of raw fish, and where the clerk was happily chatting away in Mandarin with her customers.  Perfect!  Moving beyond the fish, we wound through a maze of shelves of toys, food stacked high on unopened shipping boxes, and candy bins taking up one-fourth of the floor space.  We decided it would be somewhat adventurous, and hopefully funny, to pick out some candy with absolutely no English writing on the label.  In Mexico, we often find candy that is salty, sour, spicy, and sweet all in one.  We were hoping for some interesting surprises with our mystery Chinese candy too.

Wandering to the back of the store, I found a corner packed with brightly colored boxes of all shapes and sizes.  Knowing that the Chinese are big on fireworks, I decided a box of those would be a perfect consolation gift to make up for the potentially disgusting candy.  We are one of those families who never buys our own fireworks.  We prefer to instead gather with friends and watch other people literally burn through $200 worth of paper and chemicals.  So we decided it would be a real treat for our kids to participate in an ancient Chinese tradition and to get to use matches.  Additionally, they would be the only ones on our street putting on a light show for no reason in October.  I found a canister of some extra-long sparklers, figuring their burn time gives more bang for the buck and probably fewer troubles with the TSA.  Plus, my inexperienced children would be less likely to need a trip to the hospital lighting sparklers than bottle rockets.

Our first night back, we gathered the children and spent an hour going through photos and telling them about all the interesting places we had visited.  We wrapped up with Chinatown, at which point I pulled out the candy.  They liked choosing two pieces each of the unknown, and were kind enough to not complain too much about only two pieces each.  The candy was stiff and chewy, like Laffy Taffy, but with real fruit flavors instead of artificial.  They thought it was weird, and asked if we had brought anything else.  I pulled out the sparklers, and they were excited to find 50 sticks crowded into the container.  They each took one out and we headed to the front porch.  After a few unsuccessful attempts at lighting the sparklers in the night's breeze, we moved into the garage.  #2 got one of the sticks to catch and burn like a candle for about five seconds before it went out and just smoked.  We tried with two others and got the same result.  We looked at the package to try to figure out what was wrong with these sparklers, but my limited memory from one year of studying Mandarin in college was no help with the gold characters covering the canister.  We brought the sparklers inside where Kent took one sniff and realized that our surprise gift giving had backfired, so to speak.  We had brought home another 4000-year-old Chinese tradition.  Even though the kids' excitement quickly turned to disappointment, at least we can now add incense to our family meditation practices.  So much for our fun October light show; incense doesn't pack quite the same punch.