Art

I took the boys to the Art Museum. It sounded like a good idea and perhaps a segue into a whole slew of Christmas art projects I am hoping to do over the coming weeks. I figure if we are not going to be home for Christmas, then we will go above and beyond to make everything feel Christmas-y. Anyway, when the AQI is hitting 200 and everything feels nasty and bleak, you've gotta figure out something worthwhile to do. Something that is inside and does not involve a shopping mall.  (I could shop at fresh markets ALL DAY EVERY DAY, but the kids are OVER those. The last fresh market I took them to had gerbils, rabbits, guinea pigs {all alive thank God} and that was my saving grace for getting them to cooperate. Of course, there were the twenty-five billion questions firing out of Hudson's mouth with regards to what those creatures were doing there, but I avoided those as best as I was able. The kids is convinced he is getting a rabbit for Christmas, BTW. Okay, I digress....)

Anyway, art museum: it was pretty boring. And I mean that in the nicest possible way. There were some large installations like this piece:

And thankfully, Hudson paid no attention to one thing that seemed a bit overemphasized, if you ask me. I guess the artist had a pretty high opinion of himself.

The boys liked this "house". But about 10 seconds after seeing it Tucker started saying, "I wanna go to Poppa Bear's house" repeatedly. (Poppa Bear's house has Lincoln Logs which he loves to play with!) I was impressed with his memory!

There was this horrible moment too. Immediately Hudson asked if we could try this when we got home. Um, no.

It was not all bad, I really liked this one. Carving in stone is cool.

The past five days have been really long. Josh is in Japan and I have been 100% parent, 100% of the time. When I am completely alone, I find that I do not even rest well because it is like I know that if something goes wrong in the middle of the night, I am on my own to deal with it, so I never totally relax. Not to mention, there is just the general concern for Josh's welfare that keeps me distracted. He is fully capable, but the guy does not typically travel without his personal assistant (me) who has already done all the leg work on how to navigate the subway, researched seventeen different ways to reach the hotel, planned on how/where to exchange for new currency, and maybe even packed his suitcase. Rest assured he has done perfectly well without me. (Boo.) Meanwhile, I did not accomplish all of the things I wanted to when he was gone, but I did figure out how get some rest at night (light on, door rigged) and I made sure we did make the mile walk to church (on time even!) on Sunday. It is really hard to be the one answering every question. Giving every bath. Reading every book. Preparing, cleaning, organizing every meal.

Sorry, Picasso. This is my kind of art.

At a playdate today I had a woman tell me she *thought* I must have been an elementary school teacher because I was so good with my kids. I nearly choked on my Chinese dumplings. Parenting continues to make me feel like a total failure. Like I have no idea. every day. what the heck I am doing. 

I constantly feel like I am having this out of body experience where I hear myself parenting and I am like, "What the heck did I just say?"

Does anyone else feel like this?

(BTW, thank you all for thinking the Instagram post of the boys holding hands as a punishment for fighting was funny. I am still sure I am going straight to Parenting Purgatory for that one.)

So, if someone thinks that you have it all together, are they right or wrong OR is parenting just subjective like art? 

Like art, parenting is expressive and personal. Some people will see your style and like it. Others will question your technique. We've all seen the results of someone's parenting and thought "Well, that is just screwed up!" and we have also probably said out loud at some point to someone, "Your parents raised you right!" Can you be doing it right and not know it? Or probably more importantly, how do you know that you are doing it wrong before it is too late? 

Clearly my boys are two totally different people. They are motivated differently, the react to situations differently, they value different things, and so what works for one does not work for the other. Collectively they just raised the parenting bar. Being effective will require distinct artistry. 

My favorite kind of art. Part Deux.

I guess I will just have to work on making sure I have the right tools for the job. Anyway, we left the art museum pretty quickly. It was not my style. So, we ditched the place and headed to the shopping mall. At least there they have some (explainable) things that we like to look at, like cheap clothes, awesome $1 bowls of Wuhan noodles, and fun little vistas like this:

Hudson and Holly watching me.

You got a friend in me

In a city of 9 million, these are the only two I really have talked with. 

Josh is working a lot. Like he had a conference call every night this week. (He actually had to skip a work call on Friday night just so we could have some family time and get farther away to have dinner.) Each day he leaves to go down to breakfast by 7:50 or so and gets home around 6. We immediately eat dinner here or leave to get something. Then we get home by 7 or 8, whenever his first conference call is. I put the kids to bed and then blog or respond to emails. And then by 10, I am crashed out.

Hudson and Tucker are struggling with the transition as much as anyone. They are not very "friendly" with each other. Most of their interaction involves hitting each other, racing, or trying to steal the other's toys.

On our walk yesterday, we went to the teeny convenience store between the buildings. They have cold drinks and those soft drinks you see above are a part of our daily normal. They cost 3 RMB (50 cents) and are totally worth it. Frequently outside stores you will find animals in cages. For example, the restaurant on the corner has a pet chicken which they feed rice. (I'm scared of the day when he disappears!) Our store (I'll call it that since we go there about every day for something to do) is no exception. I posted a picture like this on Instagram earlier this week:

The owner is really sweet to the all the kids I have seen come who patronize the place. He motioned to me whether he could show the boys something the other day; I am so happy I had my good camera to capture these moments! With a popsicle stick, he hand feeds his two (pet?) birds some type of paste. He showed Tucker how to do it and then allowed Tucker to do it himself! Hudson was mesmerized too. 

Well, it is Saturday, so we are going to go on a driving tour with Cristos and our driver. I am so anxious to get to speak English all day. To adults. :)

Low Point.

The African saying is "it takes a village to raise a child" and most American parents, I think, we would like to add "and electronics" to the end of it.

Last Wednesday, I hit rock bottom. The morning was a huge stress ball of reality when the bank was unwilling to delve any personal banking information to me about my own accounts. Since 53rd is the bank Josh had first, I am listed as a subordinate versus a joint account on just about everything. (Nevermind that I have had my business accounts with them for 5 years….) So, I was unable to get any information about our credit card PINs without the paperwork proving I have Power of Attorney of banking. In China you can not use a credit card without knowing the PIN for it. I think the only time you need this security feature in the US is if you are getting a cash withdrawal.

When you are a married couple, you don't think about things like Power of Attorney. You know that the bank has accepted my signature as his signature for the past 10 years and just assume that you have some rights to the his personal information. No matter that I am the one that pays the bills. Alas, I digress…

So the morning was rough. And then I took my little people to the travel doctor for our consultation and shots. I had been weighing the pros and cons of who should get their shot first all morning…the overly dramatic 5 year old or the little teeny one who seems so helpless? The kids were both animals at the doctor's office, where we sat in a real room with a desk and a couch and talked for an hour about every single possible health issue from water to parasites to food to street safety to major health emergencies. Not really anything of interest to little men. The gorgeous space was filled with about 700 seemingly rare and breakable looking artifacts from Dr. Jones's trips. My nerves were shot before I made the last minute (and best decision) to take the kids for their shots one at a time with Tucker going first. He screamed and cried, but was over it with a sucker. Hudson, on the other hand, had a massive heart attack and was so tense by the time she whipped out the needle, I was doing some WWF moves just to keep him on the examination table with me. It was exhausting.

We arrived home and I made everyone lay down. Even me. And when we got up an hour later and needed to get ready for the final preschool program at school, the fun really began.

Hudson got up first. Well, tried to. As soon as he stood, he hit the ground. Wailing. Sobbing. Begging me to "take the needle out of his leg". I did my best to console him and went to get Tucker up and dressed. He didn't even make it completely standing in his crib before he fell down crying "Pain. Pain. Pain." I went and grabbed the medicine and started dosing out pain relief intermixed with hugs as we formed a huge pileup on the kitchen floor.

I finally got them out the door carrying Tucker and with Hudson hobbling by my side. It was pouring rain and we were officially soaked by the time we made it into the school: Tucker, unwilling to put his feet on the ground, and Hudson hanging on me like a coat on a coatrack. I just stood there outside Tucker's classroom and cried.

As a single parent I was a total FAIL.

Hudson's sweet teacher came over to help. Eventually I got Tucker to hold his own weight and  was willing to go into the class. Hudson's teacher stayed with him while big brother and I went into the auditorium to watch the program. After a couple of minutes I received multiple pictures from the teacher showing Mr. T playing with the kids and doing just fine. Tucker was a champ. He walked all the way down the aisle of the church, sang his little songs, and smiled. He fell off the steps trying to go back to his seat, but he did not cry.

I am grateful for the village that helped me get through that day --and the electronics which showed me he was okay so I could relax.