The topic is Adam, Eve, Eden, and the Apple. Why did Adam eat it? Who's fault is it? Really now, it all reads like a Disney movie. Heck, I'd go so far as to say that if Adam had had a mother, he'd never had eaten that apple. Everyone knows that in every Disney movie where the child--the star of the movie--is to have an adventure, the mom has to get killed off first: Bambi, Nemo, heck, even Bluthe studios agrees and kills off Fivels' mom in the first 5 minutes of his movie. You can't have an adventure with a mom around. She's too good at what she does. Dads, however, are bumbling idiots that let their kids get into all sorts of trouble. All of Hollywood tells us so. Any mom would have kept that tree out of reach of her children. It's dangerous! Nope. Would never have happened if Adam had had a mom. So really, could it be that God put that tree there for them to take when they were ready? When they grew up enough to go out on their own? When you can take the pebble from my palm, sorta thing? Or was it a test of love, and how well he made that divine emotion?
What is the nature of love? It's been a topic that has not left my mind for months now. It started with my questioning of religion, and wove itself up into a neat little package on our trip to Germany.
This was a birthday gift to my husband.
What is the nature of love? Is it possible that such a basic human emotion has somehow changed over time? Our friends from Germany would have us think so. They say that the idea of our modern romantic love is a very new concept. That love, that burning need to be with someone, is new to humanity. People used to be married to complete a contract between families. Love was not what made a good marriage. Preserving the family wealth and status was what drove them.
I countered with the idea that that was what affairs were for. You fulfilled your contractual obligations to your family; producing heirs, and assuring that your family's good name remained respected. You and your husband had full lives outside of each other. If you were lucky, fondness grew between you. More than likely, you had very discreet affairs. Probably more true that the man had affairs, and the woman threw herself into society, or some hobby to help dull the empty feeling she had to have had, but may not have known how to name. Her position was far more tenuous than a man's and she had her children to protect. I say that these affairs or hobbies were an attempt to fill that aching need to love, and be loved: To be as one with another. To find more than simple friendships, which are a dilute cousins to love. Our German friends simply felt that affairs were just dalliances, with no meaning to them beyond the physical delights they provided. This may be true of some, but if you look at the enduring folk tales, myths and landmark authors, I cannot believe that there were not those who felt that aching need to be with the one that they love, as far back as humanity's need to bury their dead--an act of love--was born.
I can take you right to the Old Testament for proof. The old testament is indeed...old. It predates the middle ages, the supposed dawn of romantic love, as our German Friends assert. It is the story of Adam and Eve I want you to consider. Why is it that Eve is blamed for all of humanity being cast out of Eden? This is the basis, I think for the three branches of monotheism treating women so poorly. It ranges from requiring woman to basically put a bag over their heads (in the Muslim branch of the faith), because men cannot control themselves, to more subtle requirements of hair covering, and modest dress in Judaism, to the subtler still difficulties in equal pay and work for women in the Christian faiths. I say that this assertion is false. it is NOT Eve's fault.It is simply another misunderstanding of The Word.
Don't believe me? All you need to do is ask any mother what she would have said to Adam if she had caught him taking a bite of that infamous apple. Any mom would have said, while wagging her finger close to her boy's nose, "And if she jumped off a bridge, would you have jumped too? OY! I could Kill you!" There is a huge lack of accountability in Adam if you simply say that Eve enticed him to eat the apple. It would be akin to him saying "Well judge, that car was just so pretty, that I could not help but steal it. It was too enticing." No. Sorry. That makes men out to be automatons and women some sort of all-powerful sorceresses. Neither thing it true. The assertion is one that would be made by a teenager, who is inexperienced in life.
What possible motive could Adam have had to have followed Eve down the path out of Eden? Love. The deep, and all consuming need to be with her, no matter where she went. Ah, you say that this is still simply enticing Adam; beguiling him. No. That cannot be. This sort of deep need and trust cannot be nurtured if both parties do not feel that bond. Not even unrequited love will follow over a bridge, since the person left up on the bridge knows that he is not part of his love's life. He is an outsider. He watches from afar, and his deeds will, as always, go unnoticed..
This lover's bond was their undoing. Eve had tasted the apple, and having done that, Adam knew the outcome, and could not bear to be without her. He had to follow, not out of enticement, but out of his love for her. He would have followed even if Eve had not given him the apple to eat. He would have grabbed it from her and swallowed it whole, to be assured that he would share her fate. Any other explanation of this story, leaves men as us less playthings, and women, superhuman. I do not accept these assertions to be true, simply because they are patently false. If women are so powerful that all one has to do is swing her hips, lick her lips, and say "Hello big boy" why is it that all but a tiny portion of the countries of the world are run by men? Why are not all of our major corporations run my women, or run by a puppet man, with a woman doing the reaping of benefits? It is because women to not hold such power.
So, why then, are we--the world--misunderstanding the text? Why are our friends denying that this sort of love is a basic human gift? Could it be that though it's what makes humans divine, like divinity, it's rare? It's so rare, that most people never feel it? I could continue with the religious metaphors and say that like being sainted, everyone has the seed of sainthood in them, but not everyone achieves it. Perhaps they are simply not lucky enough to find it. Or could it be that they don't want to feel it? To their defense, it can be painful, it can be difficult to even breathe when one comes across real love. Like achieving sainthood, It's powerful, it's overwhelming, some may even think that they are not worthy. It truly changes one's life, and one's perception of oneself and everything around him. It's huge. It's giving over oneself to another, and trusting that he will keep you safe.
Not everyone will want this, but that does not make it non-existent? There are saints. There is true love: the all-consuming breathtaking love that has been written about through the ages: Abelard And Heloise, Aspasia And Pericles, Lancelot and Guinevere, or King Edward and Wallace Simpson. We don't choose who we love, but when it comes, it is the courageous who will live it and own it. It is the courageous who will see it for its true worth, and know that it is the most precious thing humanity has. Not everyone will feel it, because not everyone has the courage. Our German friends only see the superficial parts of the world, because they discount its most powerful part as a new "idea", not a well-rooted thing that defines humanity. Most of the world necessarily sees as they do, because they have not felt that bond, so of course they feel confident in their beliefs. All we can do is love well, and teach our children the truth.
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Monday, September 29, 2008
Germany, Oh Germany
Okay, so we put everything we had in one travel basket, and took the plunge to go visit our old Exchange Student and some good friends in Germany. In short, it was awful. We even tried to come home early, but we could not afford to. That's what comes of getting really, really cheap air fair. You can't afford to pay the difference to change the date.
So, we get there. Flight was fine, as any overseas flight can be with two 6-year-olds. We are greeted by my exchange student and her family. There are teary greetings. They take us to her mom's house. (Her parents are divorced) We stay in Tubingen. We are jet lagged. We sleep in...on many mornings. We do this because they keep on keeping us out until 10 even though we keep saying that the kids really need to be in bed by 8. They probably think since we kept okaying it when they ask to go do one more thing, that it's okay with us. The problem is that Germany is farther north than our home town in the USA. I can't tell what time it is in Germany--even if I was not jet lagged. I tell them this. My husband and I and I do not have a watch between us. Like many people nowadays, we use our cell phones as watches. Of course, we did not bring our cell phones, because well...they don't work overseas. Guess we coulda bought one, except we can't really shop without a guide. Heck, we keep asking for a money machine, and well...happily I do finally spot one on my own. Good thing I was here last year with my friend Bonnie. I know what "Geldautomat" is.
So..they are very eager to show us EVERYTHING in Tubingen, and surrounds. I keep saying that it has been a very very very trying time, these last few months, and what we really need is a rest. I have been ill, my mom just had a stroke, my sister's husband is gravely ill. It's all been bad.What we really need is a playground. I nice sweet playground where the kids could be kids, and we could sit and watch them doing just that .I came to see them. Germany is just a perk. Never-the-less, they keep marching us around castles and towns. My two are bored. Tired. Getting sick.
My Daughter had a small cough when we left. We took her to the doc before we went to the beach that week before Germany. Pulled her from camp to do it. The doc decided not to dose her with antibiotics (which is what has done for me in the past, as a prophylactic on long trips away) because she has a yeast infection which we spend that week treating her for with vinegar baths and cranberry juice. Her yeast infection goes away just before we leave for the beach. Her cough remains, but is just a little cough. She was fine the first week in August, and Cape May. Just a small cough now and then. However, since the child is now very stressed, not eating well on the German diet (neither of them are) and very sleep deprived. Her cough blooms into a real storm. She can't sleep at night, and neither can we because of her cough. I did think to bring a cough medicine--a decongestant. It works pretty well...until I run out mid week. We suffer. Our hostess (the mom) sleeps with earplugs in. Can't hear a thing. My student and her dad are sleeping in a rented room. The mom gets upset at our American ways.We don't close doors to empty rooms. The kids splashed in the bathroom. We don't squeegee the shower stall after every use. In short, we are, I suppose, being ugly. But how are we to know that German kids are so perfectly behaved? I say this with a snark in my voice right now. They did, however, treat us to a anniversary gift of punting down the river in Tubingen. I have picks of both the kids taking a turn too. That was delightful. Our punter was a friend of my student's new beau.Sure would been nice to have been able to go out for a bit at night. But really, we were too tired anyway.
We are absolutely exhausted.
We move on to my student's dad's place on Bodensee (Germany, Switzerland and Austria border the lake--or "see") . It's lovely. I push for more kid centered stuff. We go to Minau Island. There is a FANTASTIC gardens there. HUGE. BIG topiaries..and a butterfly house. We get pics of my son with 3 butterflies on his knee. Don't know what he kneeled in, but they love it. They would not leave, even though he (carefully) walked all around the place. My student's dad is sleeping on a mat in a storage room so we may have all the beds. My student and her mom go get a room elsewhere. Naomi's still coughing. We are still out late. I still can't get a handle on the time, so we still keep saying yes to "do you want to" thinking that they have a handle on the time...and are looking out for us.
Then we all go to Nuremberg to do the pass off to our friends from Germany with the 2 kids, 6 and 4. We meet in the town square by the fountain. There are lots of smiles. The men go swap the luggage to the new car. They leave us womenfolk to watch the kids. I shoo them off, thinking that I had my student and her mom and me to watch the 4 kids. Well, the other two ladies vanish. I see them out of the corner of my eye sitting at the fountain, and then they are gone. I have 4 kids aged 4 thru 6 running around the square, with 2 of them not getting where the "curbs" are on a cobblestone street and square combo--something my two don't ever see--and running into traffic. The 2 German kids jump on Adam, and the boy starts wrestling with my boy. I might have let it go, but they were on cobblestones. SOMEONE was going to get hurt, and it was not going to be the other boy. My son does not know how to wrestle. We don't really allow fighting. He did take TaeKwonDo, but this is not helping him. Our German friends' boy is not much larger (anymore) but he's much more muscular. My son does not stand a chance.
I keep trying to get their son off my boy. I say no in German. He does not listen. The two girls are running around the square. I look at my boy and try to judge if he's having boyish fun or not. He's not sure. He pokes the boy in the eye trying to push him away. I can't keep them apart. I can't keep the girls out of the street. I am about to hyperventilate. I am looking desperately for my student and her mom..or the men. I have had to put the kids at the fountain and make them all sit, or I am going to pop a blood vessel. That's still harrowing, as the German kids want to climb it....and of course mine want to follow suit.....over the cement stairs and cobblestones...which is why I took them away from it in the first place. I manage to get them to sit quietly enough for me to not hyperventilate. It takes about 20 minutes for the men to come back. Finally, they do....and the women reappear.They march us to the castle. I give myself a time out and sit on a rock.
We get sausages for lunch. Of course, my kids won't eat them. They eat bread. There are teary goodbyes to my student. I really feel as though she is part mine. I can't control myself. She comes back 3 times.
We move on to my friend's house. All 4 of us share the attic space. The house is a palace..and the attic is very nice--Germans use every inch of space. It's a real room. I tell my friends how tired we are,..how much we have been marched around. That DD is sick, and we need rest. Something easy. Something for the kids. They say how about a funpark? We can go to the Playmobile funpark. Well. we get there, and it looks pretty fun. I send my kids into a maze thing,. following my friend's suit. I don't' see them come out. I think this is pretty odd, so I go in to find them. I go into the maze, and I see that this is not some small little thing, but HUGE theme park, not unlike Disney. It's packed in there, and it goes on forever. Holey FUCK. I remain calm. I search for the kids. I do find them, but it's impossible to keep them in sight at all times. It's Playmobile castles, and pirate ships, and rafts to pole, and water to play in. it's really very amazing, but NOT what we needed that day....and especially when everyone is not speaking English. If my kids got lost, they could not ask for help. I TRY to relax. Yes, they have arm bands on, but still....I follow suit from my friends,and let the kids explore stuff in the park..things to climb and go into. They want to pole a raft...especially since my two have done it on a real boat....and DD wanted to it at the kids playpark at Minau Island, and could not get anyone to let her use the pole. The line is long. It's hot. I offer to go get ice cream. I can manage 5 --one for each kid, and one for our host, as he asked for one too. When I finally get back, they are about to board their raft. I hurriedly pass the cones to our host. I tell him that the lemon must go to my son (he's CRAZY over it, it's the only thing he really eats in Germany) and the raspberry must go to DD, because the milk here seems to be rough on her and my husband. They are both lactose intolerant. Yes, I am getting good at ordering ice cream in German). he says "yeah"..and steps onto the raft. I see my daughter's raspberry go to his son. He passed her a quark and cherry cone instead. She hates it, and passes it on to one of his kids. It would have made her sick anyway. She's miserable out there on the raft watching everyone eat their ice cream but her. I see this and am peeved. I ask why he did not give my daughter her raspberry and he said that he just passed them out on the raft. he figured it didn't matter. HUH? Is he deaf? I am peeved and tell him that she can't have dairy here. I march off and get her a double cone, and finally a cone for me and my husband. I end up giving a lactaid to mydaughter anyway, since I caved and got her a raspberry and chocolate double cone for her troubles.
THEN the shit hits the fan. My husband and I had split up, since our daughter and son wanted to do different things. We do this often. I figure it's why our twins are so independent of each other. That's my theory at least. My husband loses our son. Not to worry. Our host seems to lose his daughter a couple of times, and he's not worried. Germans must be better with kids, eh? Well, we finally find our son, or actually, he finds his daddy. I get the story that he has had a row with an adult couple in one of the adventure hut/tree house buildings. Our son was doing one of the activities with pegs in one of the structure.He says an adult woman grabbed him hard and threw him to a man, who twisted his arm and threw him from the activity/building. He can't even tell the whole story he's so upset.
My boy can get very upset about just about anything, so I figure that considering how rough our host kids are, that surely he had it wrong, and it was a pair of older kids. No adults could have done this. We calm him down and go off to find food....something that our host has not allowed for on this day--or actually he simply decided that he's not going to actually feed the kids. All we can find is a snack bar, and all they have are donuts and cookies. He gets some anyway, but our two won't touch it. Dunno where our host is....but he's supposed to met us here.
We take time to play with the Playmobile toys in the food area. We wait for our host. Then we go shopping. I am so into the idea that the kids not remember this trip as hell, that we go in big and buy DS one of the new Playmobile trains. He's happy. I hope the bad experience fades.
Later that night, in the bath, we see the marks on our son's arm. Big angry fingerprint bruises. I flip out. His story must be correct as he told it, and I didn't believe him. I am gagging back tears, anger, a huge torrent of emotions. There's nothing I can do about it. There were so many people there. We'd never have found the asswipes that did this to my son anyway, but I am still livid and wanting to launch myself at a throat or two. I figure that our son was taking his time with the peg activity, and was probably asked to go...in German. When he didn't respond, they took it to mean he was being disrespectful, and treated him as such. Now, this really still peeves me, as we are in fucking Europe. You gotta think that there are other non-German speaking kids at these big playparks. Why not assume that he's not understanding...or that he's fucking deaf, even?? Asswipes. Really started hating Germany about this time. Later at night, I stare at his arm, and cry.
However, now none of us can sleep at all for our daughter's coughing since we share a room. My friend from Germany is a doc. I ask her to look at my daughter. She does. Says she does not know why she is coughing. I ask for antibiotics. She says she does not need them. There is no goo..no discharge, no fever. She says it 'just a little cough". Well, German houses are all made from big bricks..even the internal walls. You can't hear anything from room to room. I tell her it is NOT just a little cough. She says my daughter does not need anything. She gives me a cough syrup that does not help. We switch to a antihistamine. That gave her a nasty bloody nose. I refuse to continue her on that since we already had to have her nose cauterized at age 4 for nosebleeds.
Couple more days go by. Now mydaughter is coughing at any light activity. I press for antibiotics. She begrudgingly gives in. 3 days later, no difference, and no sleep for any of us. I press to go to the grocery store where I buy eggs and other more American food for my kids. They practically live on eggs for the rest of the stay. Their son refuses it, and noisily gesticulating, and ranting and spitting words in German, stomps off in an offended huff to get a clean plate for himself lest he have his eyes and tastebuds offended by such discgusting victuals. I comment that I am feeling so much better about my children's refusal to eat German food, and praise them for their good manners.
We move on to Bavaria to see the mountains and go to Neuschwanstein. We go to the cars to find that our friends son had gotten into the car that we have set up for our kids--their packs, car seat, etc. We look at each other. No, we don't' want the boys together. We don't' wand our son cooped up with abuse-boy at his side. Instead of telling abuse boy to move we ask our son if he'd rather ride with his sis. It seems a bit more polite to us this way than saying "get you monster outta my son's seat." We figure that if he's okay with riding with abuse boy, well, we'd let it go..hoping that they might bond a bit. We hear our host yelling at the top of his lungs "NO, it's not the kids choice where to sit!" as he overhears us. Darling husband pops a gasket and yells back that we are the adults and we want our own kids riding together, and if it's not the kids choice where to sit, then why does HIS son get to choose?!!!" Our host backs down and says that he did not understand. We end up pulling out the kids backpacks (with books, and juice for them out of the car we started in,and put them in the other car. Grrrr. At least the one we switched them to had AC.
We stay in a creaky ex-B&B. My friend starts getting worried about our daughter and we take her to a pediatrician. He says he does not know why she is coughing. He gives her an RX to open her bronchial tubes. THAT works after 3 days. Of course, it makes her hyper, and she WILL NOT STOP CHATTERING...EVER. My head is on a perpetual state of spinning. We still do not sleep. We do,at least, get to bed a reasonable time--8 or 9. HOWEVER...their kids get up at 6, and cannot seem to keep quiet. The cabin is stick built, and noise travels. On top of it all, their son has a habit of coming into our rooms noticing that he's got the wrong room, and leaving the door open at his exit, so that we may hear even more of their noise. Now I must get up to close the door, and that wakes my son, who has had a nightmare (that I Al slept through--I can't even face that lapse in my mothering),and needs me until we can find a night light, because heaven knows it's just too simple to leave the water closet light on.
I stay behind with our daughter while everyone else hikes. She is still coughing on any activity. My friend says that a walk would do her good. I hold my ground and say that I can do that here in town. We go shopping, and find a shop owner that must be counting her till as no one is open on Sunday. I get us supplies, as I did not pack for such cold mountain weather. Clothes were offered to us, and we even tried them on, but they never seemed to end up in our hands. I mean, how many different situations can we pack for when we were bringing two suitcases of gifts with us?
My husband comes back..ass full of mud. Our children see each other and race to each other's arms. This was not "hike" it was a climb. A bona fide climb up a 45 degree skiing slope. Grassy, but a mountain climb none-the-less. Our son had a great time besting his dad, and was the first to the top, but my poor husband had to be drug up the hill by my friends. He had to go down on his ass part way to the chair lift. They hiked to the mountain to the top of the skiing chair lift, and rode that down. They keep a couple running all year for hikers. OMG....I am SO happy I did not go, and I did not let our daughter go. My friends say that I need to get my husband a gym membership. HA HA HA. I counter with, "yes, but who would watch the kids while we went there? If it was just for him, that means daddy would not be home until after bedtime 3 nights a week or more, and I would be the sole caretaker. That night, they ask us how old we are. Um...11 and 14 years older huns...and 20 pounds heavier.
We do not do that sort of hike again.
There are continuous battles between the kids. The German kids are rough. I tell our children that they have permission to defend themselves physically. I see our son land a couple of good ones. I smile.
Our friends keep reprimanding the kids in English, which means that it's for our kids ears. I hear our friends tell my boy to stop fighting. Finally I burst. I say that he needs to tell HIS kids to stop picking on my boy,as he is CLEARLY trying to get away, and his two kids won't let him get away. He does so. Later, in the cabin, I hear him tell my daughter to let go as he is trying to carry his daughter into a room for something. I pop out to yell at my child, telling her to listen to her elders. As the words come out of my mouth, I see it's really HIS daughter that won't let MY daughter get away. Later, I pull him aside and tell him that I feel I need to come to my daughter's defense,and that it was NOT my girl that would not let go. It was his. He says that he's sorry, and that he's used to both kids going at it......but I did not hear him say anything to his daughter at the time.
Through it all, I pull my kids aside and tell them that I see that they are not being treated fairly. but if we make a huge row about it (beyond the times I have mentioned), that our stay will be even more difficult. We had a lot of double standards....and HUGE parenting style differences. It may be a German thing, I dunno, but at a hotel lunch, outdoors, my husband witnessed two German kids taking the tires from under the seesaw and rolling them down the slide, into the dining area. No one said a word. Not even the manager, who came out to right the knocked over chairs. This happened over and over. My husband was shocked at this display.
Those of you who know me, will recall the troubles I had with this family's kids. Their son always was rough, and my son was hamstrung by our American rules that we don't hit. You may ask why did I put him back in this situation? Well, I felt at 2 years later that SURELY their boy would have better manners at 6 than at 4. I mean they are GERMAN. They follow rules. I was wrong. I wanted to show the kids a different view of the world. Hopefully spark in them the understanding of a different culture...let them do things that other kids their age have never done. I was really really really wrong. I put them through an awful time and made them suffer it for the sake of keeping the peace. I want to vomit.
And my daughter's diagnosis? Well, I trotted her off to her ped. as soon as we got back. Had chest x-rays and a blood draw for pertussis. X-ray shows a viral infection. Lungs are clear. Pertussis titer came back negative. Doc put her on a different antibiotic because the one we used was not the correct one. he gave it to her in case the titer came back positive--so she would not infect her school mates. Yes, my friend did think it might be pertussis, but her top diagnosis was feather allergy.Um..she has feather bedding at home too.
My daughter recovered after a few days at home, thank goodness! They both seem to like the new school, though DS had a huge meltdown yesterday when he felt another kid was cheating at a game.....like in Germany. I did give a head's up to the teachers about the trip, so they might understand any such meltdowns.
I feel awful. I feel like I betrayed my kids.The whole thing was exhausting....and only when I got my 3rd night of sleep, did I really understand how exhausted I was. It will take me months to recover--just in time to get exhausted with the holidays: Halloween, Ballet Nutcracker costuming, baking......
Yes, they did do and see some AMAZING things--bungee/trampoline jumping with flips, punting a boat, hiking up mountains, seeing the most famous castle in the world (which really isn't any more magical than any other castle of the period), going to really cool playgrounds....but the overall awfulness to day-to-day life for them was thick as peanut butter, and certainly NOT what I needed....Oh, did I mention that my mom had a stroke a week before we left? Did I mention hat my long lost sis emailed me while I was in Germany for the first time in 7 years, concerned about why my house was for sale...but really to get info on mom. She must have heard something from her nurse friends. Filled her in, and then have not heard a word from her.
Can I go on a vacation???
Oh, no, wait, I can't. I have to start in on my doctor appointments again.
So, we get there. Flight was fine, as any overseas flight can be with two 6-year-olds. We are greeted by my exchange student and her family. There are teary greetings. They take us to her mom's house. (Her parents are divorced) We stay in Tubingen. We are jet lagged. We sleep in...on many mornings. We do this because they keep on keeping us out until 10 even though we keep saying that the kids really need to be in bed by 8. They probably think since we kept okaying it when they ask to go do one more thing, that it's okay with us. The problem is that Germany is farther north than our home town in the USA. I can't tell what time it is in Germany--even if I was not jet lagged. I tell them this. My husband and I and I do not have a watch between us. Like many people nowadays, we use our cell phones as watches. Of course, we did not bring our cell phones, because well...they don't work overseas. Guess we coulda bought one, except we can't really shop without a guide. Heck, we keep asking for a money machine, and well...happily I do finally spot one on my own. Good thing I was here last year with my friend Bonnie. I know what "Geldautomat" is.
So..they are very eager to show us EVERYTHING in Tubingen, and surrounds. I keep saying that it has been a very very very trying time, these last few months, and what we really need is a rest. I have been ill, my mom just had a stroke, my sister's husband is gravely ill. It's all been bad.What we really need is a playground. I nice sweet playground where the kids could be kids, and we could sit and watch them doing just that .I came to see them. Germany is just a perk. Never-the-less, they keep marching us around castles and towns. My two are bored. Tired. Getting sick.
My Daughter had a small cough when we left. We took her to the doc before we went to the beach that week before Germany. Pulled her from camp to do it. The doc decided not to dose her with antibiotics (which is what has done for me in the past, as a prophylactic on long trips away) because she has a yeast infection which we spend that week treating her for with vinegar baths and cranberry juice. Her yeast infection goes away just before we leave for the beach. Her cough remains, but is just a little cough. She was fine the first week in August, and Cape May. Just a small cough now and then. However, since the child is now very stressed, not eating well on the German diet (neither of them are) and very sleep deprived. Her cough blooms into a real storm. She can't sleep at night, and neither can we because of her cough. I did think to bring a cough medicine--a decongestant. It works pretty well...until I run out mid week. We suffer. Our hostess (the mom) sleeps with earplugs in. Can't hear a thing. My student and her dad are sleeping in a rented room. The mom gets upset at our American ways.We don't close doors to empty rooms. The kids splashed in the bathroom. We don't squeegee the shower stall after every use. In short, we are, I suppose, being ugly. But how are we to know that German kids are so perfectly behaved? I say this with a snark in my voice right now. They did, however, treat us to a anniversary gift of punting down the river in Tubingen. I have picks of both the kids taking a turn too. That was delightful. Our punter was a friend of my student's new beau.Sure would been nice to have been able to go out for a bit at night. But really, we were too tired anyway.
We are absolutely exhausted.
We move on to my student's dad's place on Bodensee (Germany, Switzerland and Austria border the lake--or "see") . It's lovely. I push for more kid centered stuff. We go to Minau Island. There is a FANTASTIC gardens there. HUGE. BIG topiaries..and a butterfly house. We get pics of my son with 3 butterflies on his knee. Don't know what he kneeled in, but they love it. They would not leave, even though he (carefully) walked all around the place. My student's dad is sleeping on a mat in a storage room so we may have all the beds. My student and her mom go get a room elsewhere. Naomi's still coughing. We are still out late. I still can't get a handle on the time, so we still keep saying yes to "do you want to" thinking that they have a handle on the time...and are looking out for us.
Then we all go to Nuremberg to do the pass off to our friends from Germany with the 2 kids, 6 and 4. We meet in the town square by the fountain. There are lots of smiles. The men go swap the luggage to the new car. They leave us womenfolk to watch the kids. I shoo them off, thinking that I had my student and her mom and me to watch the 4 kids. Well, the other two ladies vanish. I see them out of the corner of my eye sitting at the fountain, and then they are gone. I have 4 kids aged 4 thru 6 running around the square, with 2 of them not getting where the "curbs" are on a cobblestone street and square combo--something my two don't ever see--and running into traffic. The 2 German kids jump on Adam, and the boy starts wrestling with my boy. I might have let it go, but they were on cobblestones. SOMEONE was going to get hurt, and it was not going to be the other boy. My son does not know how to wrestle. We don't really allow fighting. He did take TaeKwonDo, but this is not helping him. Our German friends' boy is not much larger (anymore) but he's much more muscular. My son does not stand a chance.
I keep trying to get their son off my boy. I say no in German. He does not listen. The two girls are running around the square. I look at my boy and try to judge if he's having boyish fun or not. He's not sure. He pokes the boy in the eye trying to push him away. I can't keep them apart. I can't keep the girls out of the street. I am about to hyperventilate. I am looking desperately for my student and her mom..or the men. I have had to put the kids at the fountain and make them all sit, or I am going to pop a blood vessel. That's still harrowing, as the German kids want to climb it....and of course mine want to follow suit.....over the cement stairs and cobblestones...which is why I took them away from it in the first place. I manage to get them to sit quietly enough for me to not hyperventilate. It takes about 20 minutes for the men to come back. Finally, they do....and the women reappear.They march us to the castle. I give myself a time out and sit on a rock.
We get sausages for lunch. Of course, my kids won't eat them. They eat bread. There are teary goodbyes to my student. I really feel as though she is part mine. I can't control myself. She comes back 3 times.
We move on to my friend's house. All 4 of us share the attic space. The house is a palace..and the attic is very nice--Germans use every inch of space. It's a real room. I tell my friends how tired we are,..how much we have been marched around. That DD is sick, and we need rest. Something easy. Something for the kids. They say how about a funpark? We can go to the Playmobile funpark. Well. we get there, and it looks pretty fun. I send my kids into a maze thing,. following my friend's suit. I don't' see them come out. I think this is pretty odd, so I go in to find them. I go into the maze, and I see that this is not some small little thing, but HUGE theme park, not unlike Disney. It's packed in there, and it goes on forever. Holey FUCK. I remain calm. I search for the kids. I do find them, but it's impossible to keep them in sight at all times. It's Playmobile castles, and pirate ships, and rafts to pole, and water to play in. it's really very amazing, but NOT what we needed that day....and especially when everyone is not speaking English. If my kids got lost, they could not ask for help. I TRY to relax. Yes, they have arm bands on, but still....I follow suit from my friends,and let the kids explore stuff in the park..things to climb and go into. They want to pole a raft...especially since my two have done it on a real boat....and DD wanted to it at the kids playpark at Minau Island, and could not get anyone to let her use the pole. The line is long. It's hot. I offer to go get ice cream. I can manage 5 --one for each kid, and one for our host, as he asked for one too. When I finally get back, they are about to board their raft. I hurriedly pass the cones to our host. I tell him that the lemon must go to my son (he's CRAZY over it, it's the only thing he really eats in Germany) and the raspberry must go to DD, because the milk here seems to be rough on her and my husband. They are both lactose intolerant. Yes, I am getting good at ordering ice cream in German). he says "yeah"..and steps onto the raft. I see my daughter's raspberry go to his son. He passed her a quark and cherry cone instead. She hates it, and passes it on to one of his kids. It would have made her sick anyway. She's miserable out there on the raft watching everyone eat their ice cream but her. I see this and am peeved. I ask why he did not give my daughter her raspberry and he said that he just passed them out on the raft. he figured it didn't matter. HUH? Is he deaf? I am peeved and tell him that she can't have dairy here. I march off and get her a double cone, and finally a cone for me and my husband. I end up giving a lactaid to mydaughter anyway, since I caved and got her a raspberry and chocolate double cone for her troubles.
THEN the shit hits the fan. My husband and I had split up, since our daughter and son wanted to do different things. We do this often. I figure it's why our twins are so independent of each other. That's my theory at least. My husband loses our son. Not to worry. Our host seems to lose his daughter a couple of times, and he's not worried. Germans must be better with kids, eh? Well, we finally find our son, or actually, he finds his daddy. I get the story that he has had a row with an adult couple in one of the adventure hut/tree house buildings. Our son was doing one of the activities with pegs in one of the structure.He says an adult woman grabbed him hard and threw him to a man, who twisted his arm and threw him from the activity/building. He can't even tell the whole story he's so upset.
My boy can get very upset about just about anything, so I figure that considering how rough our host kids are, that surely he had it wrong, and it was a pair of older kids. No adults could have done this. We calm him down and go off to find food....something that our host has not allowed for on this day--or actually he simply decided that he's not going to actually feed the kids. All we can find is a snack bar, and all they have are donuts and cookies. He gets some anyway, but our two won't touch it. Dunno where our host is....but he's supposed to met us here.
We take time to play with the Playmobile toys in the food area. We wait for our host. Then we go shopping. I am so into the idea that the kids not remember this trip as hell, that we go in big and buy DS one of the new Playmobile trains. He's happy. I hope the bad experience fades.
Later that night, in the bath, we see the marks on our son's arm. Big angry fingerprint bruises. I flip out. His story must be correct as he told it, and I didn't believe him. I am gagging back tears, anger, a huge torrent of emotions. There's nothing I can do about it. There were so many people there. We'd never have found the asswipes that did this to my son anyway, but I am still livid and wanting to launch myself at a throat or two. I figure that our son was taking his time with the peg activity, and was probably asked to go...in German. When he didn't respond, they took it to mean he was being disrespectful, and treated him as such. Now, this really still peeves me, as we are in fucking Europe. You gotta think that there are other non-German speaking kids at these big playparks. Why not assume that he's not understanding...or that he's fucking deaf, even?? Asswipes. Really started hating Germany about this time. Later at night, I stare at his arm, and cry.
However, now none of us can sleep at all for our daughter's coughing since we share a room. My friend from Germany is a doc. I ask her to look at my daughter. She does. Says she does not know why she is coughing. I ask for antibiotics. She says she does not need them. There is no goo..no discharge, no fever. She says it 'just a little cough". Well, German houses are all made from big bricks..even the internal walls. You can't hear anything from room to room. I tell her it is NOT just a little cough. She says my daughter does not need anything. She gives me a cough syrup that does not help. We switch to a antihistamine. That gave her a nasty bloody nose. I refuse to continue her on that since we already had to have her nose cauterized at age 4 for nosebleeds.
Couple more days go by. Now mydaughter is coughing at any light activity. I press for antibiotics. She begrudgingly gives in. 3 days later, no difference, and no sleep for any of us. I press to go to the grocery store where I buy eggs and other more American food for my kids. They practically live on eggs for the rest of the stay. Their son refuses it, and noisily gesticulating, and ranting and spitting words in German, stomps off in an offended huff to get a clean plate for himself lest he have his eyes and tastebuds offended by such discgusting victuals. I comment that I am feeling so much better about my children's refusal to eat German food, and praise them for their good manners.
We move on to Bavaria to see the mountains and go to Neuschwanstein. We go to the cars to find that our friends son had gotten into the car that we have set up for our kids--their packs, car seat, etc. We look at each other. No, we don't' want the boys together. We don't' wand our son cooped up with abuse-boy at his side. Instead of telling abuse boy to move we ask our son if he'd rather ride with his sis. It seems a bit more polite to us this way than saying "get you monster outta my son's seat." We figure that if he's okay with riding with abuse boy, well, we'd let it go..hoping that they might bond a bit. We hear our host yelling at the top of his lungs "NO, it's not the kids choice where to sit!" as he overhears us. Darling husband pops a gasket and yells back that we are the adults and we want our own kids riding together, and if it's not the kids choice where to sit, then why does HIS son get to choose?!!!" Our host backs down and says that he did not understand. We end up pulling out the kids backpacks (with books, and juice for them out of the car we started in,and put them in the other car. Grrrr. At least the one we switched them to had AC.
We stay in a creaky ex-B&B. My friend starts getting worried about our daughter and we take her to a pediatrician. He says he does not know why she is coughing. He gives her an RX to open her bronchial tubes. THAT works after 3 days. Of course, it makes her hyper, and she WILL NOT STOP CHATTERING...EVER. My head is on a perpetual state of spinning. We still do not sleep. We do,at least, get to bed a reasonable time--8 or 9. HOWEVER...their kids get up at 6, and cannot seem to keep quiet. The cabin is stick built, and noise travels. On top of it all, their son has a habit of coming into our rooms noticing that he's got the wrong room, and leaving the door open at his exit, so that we may hear even more of their noise. Now I must get up to close the door, and that wakes my son, who has had a nightmare (that I Al slept through--I can't even face that lapse in my mothering),and needs me until we can find a night light, because heaven knows it's just too simple to leave the water closet light on.
I stay behind with our daughter while everyone else hikes. She is still coughing on any activity. My friend says that a walk would do her good. I hold my ground and say that I can do that here in town. We go shopping, and find a shop owner that must be counting her till as no one is open on Sunday. I get us supplies, as I did not pack for such cold mountain weather. Clothes were offered to us, and we even tried them on, but they never seemed to end up in our hands. I mean, how many different situations can we pack for when we were bringing two suitcases of gifts with us?
My husband comes back..ass full of mud. Our children see each other and race to each other's arms. This was not "hike" it was a climb. A bona fide climb up a 45 degree skiing slope. Grassy, but a mountain climb none-the-less. Our son had a great time besting his dad, and was the first to the top, but my poor husband had to be drug up the hill by my friends. He had to go down on his ass part way to the chair lift. They hiked to the mountain to the top of the skiing chair lift, and rode that down. They keep a couple running all year for hikers. OMG....I am SO happy I did not go, and I did not let our daughter go. My friends say that I need to get my husband a gym membership. HA HA HA. I counter with, "yes, but who would watch the kids while we went there? If it was just for him, that means daddy would not be home until after bedtime 3 nights a week or more, and I would be the sole caretaker. That night, they ask us how old we are. Um...11 and 14 years older huns...and 20 pounds heavier.
We do not do that sort of hike again.
There are continuous battles between the kids. The German kids are rough. I tell our children that they have permission to defend themselves physically. I see our son land a couple of good ones. I smile.
Our friends keep reprimanding the kids in English, which means that it's for our kids ears. I hear our friends tell my boy to stop fighting. Finally I burst. I say that he needs to tell HIS kids to stop picking on my boy,as he is CLEARLY trying to get away, and his two kids won't let him get away. He does so. Later, in the cabin, I hear him tell my daughter to let go as he is trying to carry his daughter into a room for something. I pop out to yell at my child, telling her to listen to her elders. As the words come out of my mouth, I see it's really HIS daughter that won't let MY daughter get away. Later, I pull him aside and tell him that I feel I need to come to my daughter's defense,and that it was NOT my girl that would not let go. It was his. He says that he's sorry, and that he's used to both kids going at it......but I did not hear him say anything to his daughter at the time.
Through it all, I pull my kids aside and tell them that I see that they are not being treated fairly. but if we make a huge row about it (beyond the times I have mentioned), that our stay will be even more difficult. We had a lot of double standards....and HUGE parenting style differences. It may be a German thing, I dunno, but at a hotel lunch, outdoors, my husband witnessed two German kids taking the tires from under the seesaw and rolling them down the slide, into the dining area. No one said a word. Not even the manager, who came out to right the knocked over chairs. This happened over and over. My husband was shocked at this display.
Those of you who know me, will recall the troubles I had with this family's kids. Their son always was rough, and my son was hamstrung by our American rules that we don't hit. You may ask why did I put him back in this situation? Well, I felt at 2 years later that SURELY their boy would have better manners at 6 than at 4. I mean they are GERMAN. They follow rules. I was wrong. I wanted to show the kids a different view of the world. Hopefully spark in them the understanding of a different culture...let them do things that other kids their age have never done. I was really really really wrong. I put them through an awful time and made them suffer it for the sake of keeping the peace. I want to vomit.
And my daughter's diagnosis? Well, I trotted her off to her ped. as soon as we got back. Had chest x-rays and a blood draw for pertussis. X-ray shows a viral infection. Lungs are clear. Pertussis titer came back negative. Doc put her on a different antibiotic because the one we used was not the correct one. he gave it to her in case the titer came back positive--so she would not infect her school mates. Yes, my friend did think it might be pertussis, but her top diagnosis was feather allergy.Um..she has feather bedding at home too.
My daughter recovered after a few days at home, thank goodness! They both seem to like the new school, though DS had a huge meltdown yesterday when he felt another kid was cheating at a game.....like in Germany. I did give a head's up to the teachers about the trip, so they might understand any such meltdowns.
I feel awful. I feel like I betrayed my kids.The whole thing was exhausting....and only when I got my 3rd night of sleep, did I really understand how exhausted I was. It will take me months to recover--just in time to get exhausted with the holidays: Halloween, Ballet Nutcracker costuming, baking......
Yes, they did do and see some AMAZING things--bungee/trampoline jumping with flips, punting a boat, hiking up mountains, seeing the most famous castle in the world (which really isn't any more magical than any other castle of the period), going to really cool playgrounds....but the overall awfulness to day-to-day life for them was thick as peanut butter, and certainly NOT what I needed....Oh, did I mention that my mom had a stroke a week before we left? Did I mention hat my long lost sis emailed me while I was in Germany for the first time in 7 years, concerned about why my house was for sale...but really to get info on mom. She must have heard something from her nurse friends. Filled her in, and then have not heard a word from her.
Can I go on a vacation???
Oh, no, wait, I can't. I have to start in on my doctor appointments again.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Guilt
So, my dear husband has given me a tremendous gift. We are converting our one-car garage into a studio. I got it cheap. Really cheap. I am painting it myself, and laying my own floor to save even more money. It now has a huge picture window in place of the garage door, that overlooks the garden. How the previous owners of the house could put that huge garden in with no part of the house overlooking it was a huge weirdness. I hired piano movers to move the kitchen island into my studio, so that looks great too.
So here it is. I feel like I don't deserve this studio. It's a really great room. Really. I feel like I ought to stay in the basement dungeon, where I have to run great orange extension cords for the other rooms for power. I ought to still have to have my Ott light next to me so I can see through the gloom to work. Is my art worthy of this? Heck, I keep telling myself that even if I do fail to put the room to good use, It's a great room and a wonderful addition to the house under any pretense.
I have put 100s of hours into this room, choosing the best, and most cost effective...well..everything. I have researched until my head popped off, so I suppose I could say that the room is wonderful because I worked so hard to make it so. Still, I feel guilty.
Is this a manifestation of why I didn't stay in NYC and go for another job when the the one I was hired for--indeed the whole company-- vanished one week after I was hired? Did I feel that i did not deserve it? That I did not deserve to stay at my friends' house in NJ, until I found another job? I sure did feel as though I was imposing. I had no money to help pay for things, though I did bring in a little food---and little was just about all I ate anyway.
Do I deserve this? All I know is that I better start bringing in the cash now that I have a space suitable for clients, and students. And here is the big question....what if they don't come? Will I then have proof that I am no artist? Is this what I fear? I can no longer pretend that I'd be a big deal if only.....
Yep.
So here it is. I feel like I don't deserve this studio. It's a really great room. Really. I feel like I ought to stay in the basement dungeon, where I have to run great orange extension cords for the other rooms for power. I ought to still have to have my Ott light next to me so I can see through the gloom to work. Is my art worthy of this? Heck, I keep telling myself that even if I do fail to put the room to good use, It's a great room and a wonderful addition to the house under any pretense.
I have put 100s of hours into this room, choosing the best, and most cost effective...well..everything. I have researched until my head popped off, so I suppose I could say that the room is wonderful because I worked so hard to make it so. Still, I feel guilty.
Is this a manifestation of why I didn't stay in NYC and go for another job when the the one I was hired for--indeed the whole company-- vanished one week after I was hired? Did I feel that i did not deserve it? That I did not deserve to stay at my friends' house in NJ, until I found another job? I sure did feel as though I was imposing. I had no money to help pay for things, though I did bring in a little food---and little was just about all I ate anyway.
Do I deserve this? All I know is that I better start bringing in the cash now that I have a space suitable for clients, and students. And here is the big question....what if they don't come? Will I then have proof that I am no artist? Is this what I fear? I can no longer pretend that I'd be a big deal if only.....
Yep.
Friday, December 28, 2007
Quaint and sweet. An Ode to Blade Runner.
So, my dear husband and I managed to get a sitter so we could go see the new Definitive Blade Runner. There we were, at The Senator Theater, with a premium print of one of the most talked about movies of any decade in what the director calls the "Definitive Cut". It's been re-cut 5 times. I'm not sure what that says about a movie, but I'm sure it says something.
So, we leaned back in our seats, stupid grins on our faces, about to see this movie for at least the dozenth time. All the same, my jaw dropped, and my heart ached a bit as the movie opened and the city began belching those familiar, but inexplicable jets of fire -- Vangelis' plaintive sound track at complete odds with the scene. But it was the sets--the REAL sets that had my eyeballs in a vice grip. Okay so they weren't REAL sets, they were miniatures, but in today's movies, where virtual rules, these miniatures counted as real. They had weight and mass that you don't really get in computer generated sets. The thing is, those computer sets are so good, and you are so entranced by them, that you don't see that that weight and mass--essential for any scene to feel real--has been forgotten. You go back and see a well made real-deal miniatures set, and you regret that the mad rush to computer graphics happened at all. It's like movies, the true voice of our culture, have become airier and less substantial. Like the big Busby Berkley (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Busby_Berkeley) extravaganzas--all escape and air and fluff. Just the stuff to help a nation forget the worries of the depression.
I stared at the Tyrell building and marveled at the detail, the little moving elevators creeping up the sides, and my heart ached. I'm not even sure why. I missed movies like this. Blade Runner made me hate the last 6 installments of Star Wars even more for their overblown computer effects. It made them feel like cartoons compared to the art of these miniatures. But that can't be the whole of it. There was more. More about who I was then and now. Now. I had seen Blade Runner in the theater when it first came out in 1982. All my other viewings of the movie had been by way of VCR or DVD. This time, there I was, in the theater again, sitting next to the love of my life, not the mistake of my life.
I was looking at the movies with the man I should have been looking at it the first time I saw it--if only we had met back then. I was looking at my loss of those amazing years, and wondering what I would have been had I been with THIS man, then. I must be going through a sort of mid-life crisis as my kids are entering school, because I have also been looking at old photos. I see my youth, and how amazing I was. The potential I had, and never knew it. I see the actors, in their blush of youth, and I see myself, as I see myself in their aged forms of today. I see the costumes I made, the awards I won, and I wonder where could I have gone with this had I been with THIS man? If I had been raised in a family that supported and loved each other. In the passing of the miniatures technology, I see the passing of my time to succeed, and make my mark in the world. My time, my chance has passed. Now its time to pass the torch to the next generation of computer generated kids, and I never even got a chance to make my mark. It was a good technology. In many ways it was better that the new technology, but it's lost now, as am I.
I met and married my dear husband at my last blush of youth, spent the remainder on my children, and now I am left with only questions about what I could have been, had I only realized how amazing I was.
How do I communicate this to my children? How do I make it clear that they will not know how amazing they are until that time is over? How do I make them understand that they must push the envelope while they are young so that they will know that they did not waste that time--that they used every last precious moment? How can I make them understand that my old miniature world still has weight and value--things that they can learn from and see the beauty of, and not discard in the technicolor over-the-top world that they inhabit?
Blade Runner is a capsule of my life. Both have been recut many times. I have had many false starts as I tried to find my place and way in the world, and getting it right only too late--past my time. Quaint, and sweet, and just plain too late, and way too old.
So, we leaned back in our seats, stupid grins on our faces, about to see this movie for at least the dozenth time. All the same, my jaw dropped, and my heart ached a bit as the movie opened and the city began belching those familiar, but inexplicable jets of fire -- Vangelis' plaintive sound track at complete odds with the scene. But it was the sets--the REAL sets that had my eyeballs in a vice grip. Okay so they weren't REAL sets, they were miniatures, but in today's movies, where virtual rules, these miniatures counted as real. They had weight and mass that you don't really get in computer generated sets. The thing is, those computer sets are so good, and you are so entranced by them, that you don't see that that weight and mass--essential for any scene to feel real--has been forgotten. You go back and see a well made real-deal miniatures set, and you regret that the mad rush to computer graphics happened at all. It's like movies, the true voice of our culture, have become airier and less substantial. Like the big Busby Berkley (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Busby_Berkeley) extravaganzas--all escape and air and fluff. Just the stuff to help a nation forget the worries of the depression.
I stared at the Tyrell building and marveled at the detail, the little moving elevators creeping up the sides, and my heart ached. I'm not even sure why. I missed movies like this. Blade Runner made me hate the last 6 installments of Star Wars even more for their overblown computer effects. It made them feel like cartoons compared to the art of these miniatures. But that can't be the whole of it. There was more. More about who I was then and now. Now. I had seen Blade Runner in the theater when it first came out in 1982. All my other viewings of the movie had been by way of VCR or DVD. This time, there I was, in the theater again, sitting next to the love of my life, not the mistake of my life.
I was looking at the movies with the man I should have been looking at it the first time I saw it--if only we had met back then. I was looking at my loss of those amazing years, and wondering what I would have been had I been with THIS man, then. I must be going through a sort of mid-life crisis as my kids are entering school, because I have also been looking at old photos. I see my youth, and how amazing I was. The potential I had, and never knew it. I see the actors, in their blush of youth, and I see myself, as I see myself in their aged forms of today. I see the costumes I made, the awards I won, and I wonder where could I have gone with this had I been with THIS man? If I had been raised in a family that supported and loved each other. In the passing of the miniatures technology, I see the passing of my time to succeed, and make my mark in the world. My time, my chance has passed. Now its time to pass the torch to the next generation of computer generated kids, and I never even got a chance to make my mark. It was a good technology. In many ways it was better that the new technology, but it's lost now, as am I.
I met and married my dear husband at my last blush of youth, spent the remainder on my children, and now I am left with only questions about what I could have been, had I only realized how amazing I was.
How do I communicate this to my children? How do I make it clear that they will not know how amazing they are until that time is over? How do I make them understand that they must push the envelope while they are young so that they will know that they did not waste that time--that they used every last precious moment? How can I make them understand that my old miniature world still has weight and value--things that they can learn from and see the beauty of, and not discard in the technicolor over-the-top world that they inhabit?
Blade Runner is a capsule of my life. Both have been recut many times. I have had many false starts as I tried to find my place and way in the world, and getting it right only too late--past my time. Quaint, and sweet, and just plain too late, and way too old.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Of root canals, Siamese balls, Chinese girls and things
First, on a happy normal note, I have been busily making an 18 ft growing Christmas tree for the kids' Nutcracker, as the old one fell apart at the last performance last year. It looks amazing. It's so good that the school owner gave me a hug when she saw it.
The cats went haywire just before Thanksgiving. I thought I'd get them both fixed at the same time, so I made an appointment Monday before Thanksgiving to get them both in December 9th. There. THAT'S one more thing off my list! WELL.....Tuesday morning I see Spring Roll rolling, and rolling, and rolling....and trilling and .....BACKING UP TO TAMAGO with her butt in the air. Dear God. Okay, so Plan B goes into effect, and I email the breeder to see if what I THINK I'm seeing is what I'm actually seeing. Breeder confirms that yes, her cats do often go into heat as early as 4 or 5 months. Tamago looks VERY confused. Panicked call to vet ensues, and he can sneak in Tamago for a quick nip on Wednesday morning. I worry that Tamago will be sick while we are away on Thursday/Friday, but the vet assures me he'll be fine (and he was..but he's still looking VERY deflated, in more ways than one.)
So, as soon as morning arrives, I see no repeat behavior from Spring Roll. I have no idea WHAT was going on anymore, but she's not doing any of the in-heat behaviors anymore. Oh well...gotta get the boy clipped anyway.So I drop him off and turn around to go to my emergency root canal (performed by the son of an old Baltimore Colts player. MAN, even I had office envy, and I'm not a dentist. He has a digital scanner X-Ray machine FGS!! EVERYTHING else was Zeiss! Man. What money can buy.) I then come home, feeling poorer, but better, and settle into making my pies and cakes to bring to Doug's cousins for Thanksgiving. I have JUST enough time to get it all made.
THEN....Xiaoxiao, who NEVER comes out of her room at all--It's like she's living at B&B--lots of interaction with anyone BUT us--comes home from school, and must have taken a look at the chairs I was staining in the garage on her way into her room after school. She steps on a paint sponge, and tracks hunter green poly stain all the way through my kitchen, to the hardwood, up my carpeted stairs and into her room. ALL that squishiness, and she never noticed. So...I, after I check my feet, to be absolutely sure it's not me, I turn off the apples I am caramelizing for the pies I am to bring up to Thanksgiving, and drag her out of her room, hand her the paint thinner, point to the stains throughout the house, and set her to work on the kitchen floor, and carpet while I hauled out the steam cleaner that I am now thanking God that I bought to clean the cat pee left behind by the previous incarnation of Tamago. I tell her NOT to get the paint thinner on the wood floor as it will take off the finish....but nooooooooo. She's gone and scrubbed the wood floor even after my warning, leaving a pale stripe in her wake. I am having a hard time with the idea that the culture in the city of Beijing is so alien that she's, among many other things, never smelled a solvent before. I have traveled in the orient, and I can attest that all big cities are more alike than they are different. I have come to the fanciful conclusion that she's lied about being from Beijing. She's actually from some small agrarian village tucked in the hinterlands of Mongolia where they have no plumbing, and has never seen a white man before. Needless to say, my apples have gone black with oxidation during their wait in the iron pan. No, I didn't think I'd NEED lemon juice to keep them white! I make the pie anyway. Hey, it was Wednesday afternoon! I was out of time!
So, I get the cat back, the stains are gone (mostly), and we pile in the car to go to Doug's cousins for Thanksgiving (having to get a suite at The Naussau Inn because there is no place to put Xiaoxiao in the house). I am told that replacing the milk with soymilk does not make a good pie. "It just does not have the creaminess". I can't help but reply that "it's better than using tofu", and it actually tastes great (ouch!..but that tofu pumkpkin pie was really awful..blech!). Yes, they keep kosher. Makes Thanksgiving a real pain. Soo..I end up being vindicated when on the next day, Doug's cousin asks me where the pumpkin pie is. She wants to give me back my plate. I say that I already have my plate since the pie was inhaled last night after dinner. "Oh". She did tell me to take my black apple pie and almond apple cake home since they'd be having birthday cake that night (her daughter's birthday) and they didn't need any more desserts. Well..I had to agree about the apple pie. It was rather ghoulish, but it did taste just fine. During all this, Xiaoxiao either has ner nose in her American History book (sent to her by her mom from China) or staring blankly--even with two brilliant college girls in the house. She only lights up at the Nassau Inn, when we passed by the Princeton Dorms, and later, saw some signed pics of some famous Princeton men..and Brooke Shields (her pic, not actually her).
So, Xiaoxiao is gone. Leaving behind all the things we gave her: clothes, toothpaste, toothbrush, shampoo--but taking my house key with her. Still haven't got it back. I just could not take it anymore. The idea of us partying below her closed door at Christmas (our tree is in the foyer, below her door) just made me feel WAY too weird.
Ugh....are you laughing?
Well, all things ended well. The kids did great as mice in The Nutcracker. My tree was beautiful, and Doug did great things animating my 10 ft. Mother Ginger puppet. All's well, except now we are all sick!
The cats went haywire just before Thanksgiving. I thought I'd get them both fixed at the same time, so I made an appointment Monday before Thanksgiving to get them both in December 9th. There. THAT'S one more thing off my list! WELL.....Tuesday morning I see Spring Roll rolling, and rolling, and rolling....and trilling and .....BACKING UP TO TAMAGO with her butt in the air. Dear God. Okay, so Plan B goes into effect, and I email the breeder to see if what I THINK I'm seeing is what I'm actually seeing. Breeder confirms that yes, her cats do often go into heat as early as 4 or 5 months. Tamago looks VERY confused. Panicked call to vet ensues, and he can sneak in Tamago for a quick nip on Wednesday morning. I worry that Tamago will be sick while we are away on Thursday/Friday, but the vet assures me he'll be fine (and he was..but he's still looking VERY deflated, in more ways than one.)
So, as soon as morning arrives, I see no repeat behavior from Spring Roll. I have no idea WHAT was going on anymore, but she's not doing any of the in-heat behaviors anymore. Oh well...gotta get the boy clipped anyway.So I drop him off and turn around to go to my emergency root canal (performed by the son of an old Baltimore Colts player. MAN, even I had office envy, and I'm not a dentist. He has a digital scanner X-Ray machine FGS!! EVERYTHING else was Zeiss! Man. What money can buy.) I then come home, feeling poorer, but better, and settle into making my pies and cakes to bring to Doug's cousins for Thanksgiving. I have JUST enough time to get it all made.
THEN....Xiaoxiao, who NEVER comes out of her room at all--It's like she's living at B&B--lots of interaction with anyone BUT us--comes home from school, and must have taken a look at the chairs I was staining in the garage on her way into her room after school. She steps on a paint sponge, and tracks hunter green poly stain all the way through my kitchen, to the hardwood, up my carpeted stairs and into her room. ALL that squishiness, and she never noticed. So...I, after I check my feet, to be absolutely sure it's not me, I turn off the apples I am caramelizing for the pies I am to bring up to Thanksgiving, and drag her out of her room, hand her the paint thinner, point to the stains throughout the house, and set her to work on the kitchen floor, and carpet while I hauled out the steam cleaner that I am now thanking God that I bought to clean the cat pee left behind by the previous incarnation of Tamago. I tell her NOT to get the paint thinner on the wood floor as it will take off the finish....but nooooooooo. She's gone and scrubbed the wood floor even after my warning, leaving a pale stripe in her wake. I am having a hard time with the idea that the culture in the city of Beijing is so alien that she's, among many other things, never smelled a solvent before. I have traveled in the orient, and I can attest that all big cities are more alike than they are different. I have come to the fanciful conclusion that she's lied about being from Beijing. She's actually from some small agrarian village tucked in the hinterlands of Mongolia where they have no plumbing, and has never seen a white man before. Needless to say, my apples have gone black with oxidation during their wait in the iron pan. No, I didn't think I'd NEED lemon juice to keep them white! I make the pie anyway. Hey, it was Wednesday afternoon! I was out of time!
So, I get the cat back, the stains are gone (mostly), and we pile in the car to go to Doug's cousins for Thanksgiving (having to get a suite at The Naussau Inn because there is no place to put Xiaoxiao in the house). I am told that replacing the milk with soymilk does not make a good pie. "It just does not have the creaminess". I can't help but reply that "it's better than using tofu", and it actually tastes great (ouch!..but that tofu pumkpkin pie was really awful..blech!). Yes, they keep kosher. Makes Thanksgiving a real pain. Soo..I end up being vindicated when on the next day, Doug's cousin asks me where the pumpkin pie is. She wants to give me back my plate. I say that I already have my plate since the pie was inhaled last night after dinner. "Oh". She did tell me to take my black apple pie and almond apple cake home since they'd be having birthday cake that night (her daughter's birthday) and they didn't need any more desserts. Well..I had to agree about the apple pie. It was rather ghoulish, but it did taste just fine. During all this, Xiaoxiao either has ner nose in her American History book (sent to her by her mom from China) or staring blankly--even with two brilliant college girls in the house. She only lights up at the Nassau Inn, when we passed by the Princeton Dorms, and later, saw some signed pics of some famous Princeton men..and Brooke Shields (her pic, not actually her).
So, Xiaoxiao is gone. Leaving behind all the things we gave her: clothes, toothpaste, toothbrush, shampoo--but taking my house key with her. Still haven't got it back. I just could not take it anymore. The idea of us partying below her closed door at Christmas (our tree is in the foyer, below her door) just made me feel WAY too weird.
Ugh....are you laughing?
Well, all things ended well. The kids did great as mice in The Nutcracker. My tree was beautiful, and Doug did great things animating my 10 ft. Mother Ginger puppet. All's well, except now we are all sick!
Sunday, October 7, 2007
Oops I did it again.
Well, I know I said I wasn't going to have an exchange student this year, but here I am with one. The battle was lost by increments. It started by Betsy asking if we could house a student from China for a couple weeks until she could place her. I said sure, we could do that. That might be fun for a couple of weeks. When Betsy asked if I thought the school would take her this late in the school year, my ears pricked up a bit. "Why", I asked by way of email, "would she need to enroll in school here if she's going to be placed elsewhere?"
Radio Silence.
Then, a couple of days later. "Could she stay until January? I think I can place her in Silver Spring after January." Hmm...I thought. She'd love it in Silver Spring. "She was placed in a school in St. Mary's County that I had not used before. It has on on-site nursery for all the pregnant teen moms so they can still go to school when they have their babies. She's a little scared there, and she's not going to school at all this week."
Mom Silence.
"Um....yes. She can stay here until January." How could I leave her there? Any longer, and she'd not be able to transfer to another school, and she'd be stuck there. I could not let her think that all of America was like that. Of course, I knew at that moment that she'd really be here all year. How could I kick the girl out?
There was a need for an on-site nursery at a high school? I am still not wrapping my head around that one.
So, here we are, with Xiaoxiao Wang, a.k.a Veronica, a.k.a Sissi. We call her Xiaoxiao. I saw no reason to take a fake name for such an easy-to-pronounce real name. Then I heard the woman in the guidance office try to say it. I had no idea it would be so hard. Had these people never heard of Xuxa, the Brazilian Playboy Centerfold and children's TV host? I know a co-worker that was mad over her (never mind he thought she was Swedish. Apparently, if you are blonde, wear tin soldier costumes and have an accent, you MUST be Swedish.). Anyway, my point is that XuXa is much harder to parse than Xiaoxiao and SHE never changed HER name for the American audience. But then again, I overestimate the worldliness of Americans. Heck, If I hear WAAAng one more time I'M gonna scream. Jerry, wherever you are, I know it's always said WOng. You taught me well. There is no long "a" in Mandarin. I think Xiaoxiao has dropped the "Veronica" she arrived with, and goes by Sissi now. Sissy the Austrian Princess. It's a famous Austrian movie that is Germany's beloved movie, like "Wizard of Oz"is ours (Thank you Verena!). It seems it was also a big thing in China. Weird Synchronicity, eh?
Xiaoxiao is from Beijing. She is very invested in going to college in the U.S. She spends most of her time in her room studying. Good thing I spent that last week before she came, ripping down the rest of the awful 1970's wallpaper and ramming up the new paint. I just put a built-in small desk in the niche in her room this week. We see her for meals, and that's about it. At least she comes out now. Last week she was in tears, trying to study U.S. History. Oh my god, like she could EVER find a translation for "Grange" in her little translator doohickie!
Now she will allow us to help her, and I see some of the stress lifting from her. I hope she will not spend all of her time studying. She will miss so much here if she does. We can't possibly show here the U.S like we did Verena. We simply can't afford it. She does, however, seem to be very eager to take the bull by the horns (that's a joke for those of you in the know) and plunge into events without any prompting forom us--like the Homecoming Dance. Heck, she's already got her dress!
Radio Silence.
Then, a couple of days later. "Could she stay until January? I think I can place her in Silver Spring after January." Hmm...I thought. She'd love it in Silver Spring. "She was placed in a school in St. Mary's County that I had not used before. It has on on-site nursery for all the pregnant teen moms so they can still go to school when they have their babies. She's a little scared there, and she's not going to school at all this week."
Mom Silence.
"Um....yes. She can stay here until January." How could I leave her there? Any longer, and she'd not be able to transfer to another school, and she'd be stuck there. I could not let her think that all of America was like that. Of course, I knew at that moment that she'd really be here all year. How could I kick the girl out?
There was a need for an on-site nursery at a high school? I am still not wrapping my head around that one.
So, here we are, with Xiaoxiao Wang, a.k.a Veronica, a.k.a Sissi. We call her Xiaoxiao. I saw no reason to take a fake name for such an easy-to-pronounce real name. Then I heard the woman in the guidance office try to say it. I had no idea it would be so hard. Had these people never heard of Xuxa, the Brazilian Playboy Centerfold and children's TV host? I know a co-worker that was mad over her (never mind he thought she was Swedish. Apparently, if you are blonde, wear tin soldier costumes and have an accent, you MUST be Swedish.). Anyway, my point is that XuXa is much harder to parse than Xiaoxiao and SHE never changed HER name for the American audience. But then again, I overestimate the worldliness of Americans. Heck, If I hear WAAAng one more time I'M gonna scream. Jerry, wherever you are, I know it's always said WOng. You taught me well. There is no long "a" in Mandarin. I think Xiaoxiao has dropped the "Veronica" she arrived with, and goes by Sissi now. Sissy the Austrian Princess. It's a famous Austrian movie that is Germany's beloved movie, like "Wizard of Oz"is ours (Thank you Verena!). It seems it was also a big thing in China. Weird Synchronicity, eh?
Xiaoxiao is from Beijing. She is very invested in going to college in the U.S. She spends most of her time in her room studying. Good thing I spent that last week before she came, ripping down the rest of the awful 1970's wallpaper and ramming up the new paint. I just put a built-in small desk in the niche in her room this week. We see her for meals, and that's about it. At least she comes out now. Last week she was in tears, trying to study U.S. History. Oh my god, like she could EVER find a translation for "Grange" in her little translator doohickie!
Now she will allow us to help her, and I see some of the stress lifting from her. I hope she will not spend all of her time studying. She will miss so much here if she does. We can't possibly show here the U.S like we did Verena. We simply can't afford it. She does, however, seem to be very eager to take the bull by the horns (that's a joke for those of you in the know) and plunge into events without any prompting forom us--like the Homecoming Dance. Heck, she's already got her dress!
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
The overwhelming nature of kindergarten
I find the kids' new school to be oppressive. Today was gym day (it rotates), and Naomi had to sit out of gym because she did not have the proper shoes. She was in the sandals she always plays in. Now mind you, we were not given a schedule of Gym days. I double checked through the PILE of absolute crap that was sent home (things like the meaningless letter from the principal, the disgusting fast/junk FOOD fund raising flier, the student handbook where they ask you to talk to your 5-year-old about it being against the rules to use drugs, and be late to school and the like, and then ask the kids to sign it and return it.) She was so sad, and I was pretty peeved. All they do is run up and down the gym with shuffly steps like elves. Oppressive! If perhaps I had been allowed to come to the school open house, I might have had time to look at the things posted on the walls and write notes about when there was a certain dress code.
THAT was one of those automated phone calls--the whole open house evening. First, we got a call that said, "Oh, sorry, we found out that not all of our new students got the invitation for the new student open house. Please come." Then after talking to the principal about maybe getting a collection together for someone--or me to go get ALL the classroom supplies instead of all of us mothers going to get only one of each item on the 13 item list (never happened), I mention that I'll see her on the open house. Well, she tells me that the kindergartners are NOT invited to the open house since they have the gradual entry thing. I get another automated call later that week, reminding me not to come.
AND, today they were learning about signs, Stop, Exit...and the big learning tool was reading fast food signs and singing a song about "McDonalds, Taco Bell, Pizza Hut, Dunkin' Donuts and Kentucky Fried Chicken" where they repeated the names of the chains over and over....and over. Dear god....Are there no other signs we can use? I guess the kids don't care, but I found it really weird..and ...Appalachian, in a Glass Castles sort of way. My children were being drilled, and I mean DRILLED in recognizing fast food chain signs and logos. I was speechless.
To top it off, the other room mom and I were getting all geared up to get the Halloween party going and we were both deflated. We were informed that all treats MUST be store bought--except for the gingerbread man that they are making in class that day. THAT'S okay. I asked about the peanut allergy child so we could avoid issues, and asked if was okay to have M&Ms (they are processed in a plant that once had peanuts mentioned in its halls. Important to kids with really bad alergies). The teacher replied that she did not know, but that the gingerbread man was okay. Um...that was not the question, and is not relevant in any way. UGH!
When we asked how elaborate we could get, the teacher replied that the kids already get so much candy, that we should keep it small. HUH??? Candy???? Who said anything about candy? We wanted to know if we could plan games and decorations and the like. The other room mom had an elaborate spread sheet of what the previous mom had done, and it involved fruit plates and all. So, if all the food has to be store bought, that means that we have to get store made fruit platters too! OH GIVE ME BREAK!!! We were told it was a school rule. I asked is it a school rule or a COUNTY rule, and she corrected herself that it was COUNTY rule. Hmmmm...methinks this is not entirely true since I personally know a mom in the same school system that brought brownies to school for her child's birthday. Of course, we have been told that we are not allowed to bring food treats for our childrens' birthdays.
Of course, I am not one to be easily stopped, especially when it involves the well-being (and delight) of my children. I checked. Yep, I called the school system, and found that it is NOT a rule. It's just recommended. They like the labels so that all the moms can see what's in it, and well, they think that store bought food is made in a kitchen with better hygiene than the regular mom's kitchen. Ahem....where have all the food-born issues been coming from recently??? NOT from mom's kitchen! This principal is really going to be the end of me.....or I the end of her.
I am so downtrodden already. My muse is deflated. I thought this was going to be a glorious time of parent involvement. Now it's just plain weird and spiritless. Do I home school??? Things have changed so much in the last 40 years when I was in kindergarten....and from the kids' (and my) preschool. Am I just in culture shock?
Oh, and one more of the best learning tools that there ever was has been shot down. I am told by the other room mom that field trips are to be limited. Great, we can stuff our kids' head full of Corporate American fast food logos, but we can't take them to the Smithsonian. I THINK the kids will be okay, but they will not get the education I had hoped for them. The question is, how will I survive this oppression? PTA, Here I come...like it or not. The OTHER question is how do I reconcile the fact that this school is performing WELL above (double the numbers) of the rest of the county? If I move them, well, does that mean that they will go to a school that is worse? Is going by the numbers just plain stupid (as I sort of feel is so) because the numbers really just show how devoid of originality and oppressive a school is? These are my kids' minds we are talking about. I don't want them in the hands of people who thing that mozzerella dippers is a meal--or that "all twins need to be separated because all twins depend on each other". Another gem from the principal. If you insert any other words for "twins" and "depend on each other" you get a racial slur that would land you in serious trouble. Yes, I won on that one, but I still am dumbfounded that ANY educator, let alone one that made it to the rank of principal, could ever utter such insanely stupid and untrue words. I fear that any contact my kids may with this woman could only make them label themselves in stupid and restricting ways. I plan to stand firmly between her and my babies. Of course, I also have to deal with the fallout my kids will have to take as I become their advocates in a "racist" school. I am sure I am the talk of the school since i raised such a big stink to get my kids in the same class. There is another set of b/g twins in kindergarten, and they were split. I have been told by other moms that that had 'never heard of not splitting twins". OMG. why can't twins be as individual as any other set of siblings?
THAT was one of those automated phone calls--the whole open house evening. First, we got a call that said, "Oh, sorry, we found out that not all of our new students got the invitation for the new student open house. Please come." Then after talking to the principal about maybe getting a collection together for someone--or me to go get ALL the classroom supplies instead of all of us mothers going to get only one of each item on the 13 item list (never happened), I mention that I'll see her on the open house. Well, she tells me that the kindergartners are NOT invited to the open house since they have the gradual entry thing. I get another automated call later that week, reminding me not to come.
AND, today they were learning about signs, Stop, Exit...and the big learning tool was reading fast food signs and singing a song about "McDonalds, Taco Bell, Pizza Hut, Dunkin' Donuts and Kentucky Fried Chicken" where they repeated the names of the chains over and over....and over. Dear god....Are there no other signs we can use? I guess the kids don't care, but I found it really weird..and ...Appalachian, in a Glass Castles sort of way. My children were being drilled, and I mean DRILLED in recognizing fast food chain signs and logos. I was speechless.
To top it off, the other room mom and I were getting all geared up to get the Halloween party going and we were both deflated. We were informed that all treats MUST be store bought--except for the gingerbread man that they are making in class that day. THAT'S okay. I asked about the peanut allergy child so we could avoid issues, and asked if was okay to have M&Ms (they are processed in a plant that once had peanuts mentioned in its halls. Important to kids with really bad alergies). The teacher replied that she did not know, but that the gingerbread man was okay. Um...that was not the question, and is not relevant in any way. UGH!
When we asked how elaborate we could get, the teacher replied that the kids already get so much candy, that we should keep it small. HUH??? Candy???? Who said anything about candy? We wanted to know if we could plan games and decorations and the like. The other room mom had an elaborate spread sheet of what the previous mom had done, and it involved fruit plates and all. So, if all the food has to be store bought, that means that we have to get store made fruit platters too! OH GIVE ME BREAK!!! We were told it was a school rule. I asked is it a school rule or a COUNTY rule, and she corrected herself that it was COUNTY rule. Hmmmm...methinks this is not entirely true since I personally know a mom in the same school system that brought brownies to school for her child's birthday. Of course, we have been told that we are not allowed to bring food treats for our childrens' birthdays.
Of course, I am not one to be easily stopped, especially when it involves the well-being (and delight) of my children. I checked. Yep, I called the school system, and found that it is NOT a rule. It's just recommended. They like the labels so that all the moms can see what's in it, and well, they think that store bought food is made in a kitchen with better hygiene than the regular mom's kitchen. Ahem....where have all the food-born issues been coming from recently??? NOT from mom's kitchen! This principal is really going to be the end of me.....or I the end of her.
I am so downtrodden already. My muse is deflated. I thought this was going to be a glorious time of parent involvement. Now it's just plain weird and spiritless. Do I home school??? Things have changed so much in the last 40 years when I was in kindergarten....and from the kids' (and my) preschool. Am I just in culture shock?
Oh, and one more of the best learning tools that there ever was has been shot down. I am told by the other room mom that field trips are to be limited. Great, we can stuff our kids' head full of Corporate American fast food logos, but we can't take them to the Smithsonian. I THINK the kids will be okay, but they will not get the education I had hoped for them. The question is, how will I survive this oppression? PTA, Here I come...like it or not. The OTHER question is how do I reconcile the fact that this school is performing WELL above (double the numbers) of the rest of the county? If I move them, well, does that mean that they will go to a school that is worse? Is going by the numbers just plain stupid (as I sort of feel is so) because the numbers really just show how devoid of originality and oppressive a school is? These are my kids' minds we are talking about. I don't want them in the hands of people who thing that mozzerella dippers is a meal--or that "all twins need to be separated because all twins depend on each other". Another gem from the principal. If you insert any other words for "twins" and "depend on each other" you get a racial slur that would land you in serious trouble. Yes, I won on that one, but I still am dumbfounded that ANY educator, let alone one that made it to the rank of principal, could ever utter such insanely stupid and untrue words. I fear that any contact my kids may with this woman could only make them label themselves in stupid and restricting ways. I plan to stand firmly between her and my babies. Of course, I also have to deal with the fallout my kids will have to take as I become their advocates in a "racist" school. I am sure I am the talk of the school since i raised such a big stink to get my kids in the same class. There is another set of b/g twins in kindergarten, and they were split. I have been told by other moms that that had 'never heard of not splitting twins". OMG. why can't twins be as individual as any other set of siblings?
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