Back to life. Back to reality.

Well, I'm posting this one from the sweaty cubicle which is our home office/study back in Taichung. Just sitting here, the only thing moving is my fingers, and I'm dripping. There goes a drop down my - nevermind - suffice to say that the suffocating heat is a shock.

So, I guess I will answer the two questions that you all are dying to know about. The first, of course, "How was the flight back?" And, I guess in this day and age, about the only positive thing you can say about any airtravel would be uneventful. No unruly passengers peeing in the aisle, no bomb threats - just mind numbing boredom and joint stiffness. The kids were even well-behaved. Well, except for Josh's 10 minute tirade when he found out he had to sit next to - say it ain't so - ME. Kind of hard to explain to the flight attendant or for that matter, anyone sitting anywhere on the aircraft why he is blocking the aisle shrieking, "But I hate you! Why do I have to sit next to you? You're not my real mom!!" But, I'm getting ahead of myself.

Other than my eye-lubricating drops and nasal saline spray, I made sure to have nary a lip gloss tube hidden in any of our carry-on bags. I even waited until Jayden was asleep the night before our departure to check the contents of his Finding Nemo wheeled carry-on. Just to see if there were any stray fishing lures or other potentially dangerous articles he's ferreted away in there. The only thing of note was his 2m bright green rubber snake. Was he envisioning his own version of the movie? I'm sure more than a few people would have freaked out if he'd chucked it into the aisle. Around the 18th hour of the trip let me tell you, it was tempting.

Therefore, one would think, I would think, at least, that the first thing that the airline would do - as soon as that fasten seat belt sign gets switched off - seeing as we're all parched - is to immediately start handing out cups of water like the fans that line the route of theTour de France do. But, no, we were flying Continental. It was an hour and forty-five minutes before the drink trolley made it's way down to seats 21ABC - it was made all the longer by the stereofonic whining in both ears I got from Josh and Jayden, "Mommy, I thiiiiiiiiiiiiiisty!" And then the same refrain repeated in Chinese - just in case I hadn't gotten it the first time in my mother tongue. But at least we got to watch Dr. Dolittle 3 in flight. That one had been on my "Must See" list for some time already.

Yes. I am joking. It was awful.

We arrived at CKS pretty much on-time and, as he'd promised, Jason was eagerly awaiting us just outside the arrival gate. We arrived back in Taichung - I was unconscious for most of the trip back - and did a bit of unpacking. Somewhere in that time, Rudy made the monumentous discovery that he started school the next day!! Seeing as "the next day" was technically a mere four hours away, I suggested that we go to bed, try to sleep some, and get him off to school bright and early the next day. Our Rudy is a trooper and he made it off to school with no complaint and really didn't have any jet-lag to speak of. Unlike me, who is still exhausted at 7pm and waking up at 4:00am.

Now, the second, more pressing question you're all dying to ask is, I'm sure, "Are you and Jason really going to get divorced over your tattoo?" I mentioned it rather glibly in the Tattoo post I made last week. Little did I know the firestorm that awaited me back here. The short answer is "No." But it was touch and go there for a few days. After he saw it (Well, actually, I had to point it out to him because he's not so big on noticing things, my husband), he didn't talk to me for two days! After I'd missed him so much!

I finally couldn't take it any more and we got into a big heated row about it. Many interesting arguments were put forth by both sides and just a little FYI in case you're ever in a similar situation, the "It's my body and I can do whatever I want with it!" argument works about as well with a Taiwanese husband as it does with your parents when you were in highschool. As you often do in a marriage to keep things afloat, we've agreed to disagree about this one and he just avoids looking at my art. Which I can't understand because it's soooo pretty.

Other than the stifling heat, it's good to be back. The boys are getting into their routines and I'm, well, I'm avoiding the mountain of work that awaits me before classes resume. I did go join the school's fitness center. Somehow, the three kilos I'd gained (in addition to the two extra I had to lose even before our trip to the States this summer) were a big motivating factor. Would be pretty awful to have nothing to be able to fit into to wear on the first day of classes. My diet was instantly sabatoged, however, by Jason's mom's cooking. Deep fried shrimp? Sigh. I'm going to get serious this week. Maybe I can just sweat it off. I must have lost at least 1kg just sitting here writing this!

The Party's Over

Well, our eight weeks of fun and frolicking in the US are coming to a close. Our flight leaves tomorrow (8/28) at noon. From the moment we arrive here at the end of June, it feels like the clock is ticking and we have to savor every minute because before we know it, it is the end of August and our obligations on the other side of the world are all of a sudden looming large.

It was so wonderful to see everybody here and I'm missing you all already if that's possible. One of the things I really didn't think about much when I got married in Taiwan was that we were creating two separate lives for ourselves. There are people, places, activities, and foods that we love so much in Taiwan and the US. While it's great to be at home in two places - sometimes I can feel out of place both places, as well.

Someone asked me recently if I were looking forward to getting back to Taiwan and I tried to explain the feeling by saying, "You can imagine how much I love being here with my friends and family. But, as strongly as I feel about wanting to stay here? That's how much I want to go back." Maybe that doesn't make any sense but I'm all teary-eyed about leaving everybody here and at the same time cannot wait to step off that plane at CKS and see Jason there waiting for us. Please, please, please, let him be there...let the traffic be smooth just this one night!

Anyway, thanks to everybody for another great summer full of wonderful memories. We are really blessed to have such caring, funny, generous, and supportive friends and family.

If all goes well, we'll be back next June 27th! Mark your calendars!

A Bond of Ink

Like most people (I hope), I have a little voice in the back of my head that whispers suggestions to me from time to time. Almost universally, these suggestions are of very dubious merit. Unfortunately, I also end up almost always following through with whatever half-assed thing the voice comes up with. Imagine the voice intoning, Three babies would be nice, no? That was four or five years ago and somehow it set off a string of events - some of which were not at all unpleasant, if ya know what I mean ;-) - that eventually resulted in our friendly foul-mouthed three-year-old fisherboy.

Most recently, the voice has been harassing me about my tattoo. I got a very feeble tattoo on my left ankle 13 or so years ago. It was just two tiny Chinese characters ping an 平安 (means something like safety and tranquility) which were neither very artfully done nor very attractive to look at. Any time someone noticed it, I would cringe and sheepishly say something like, "Uh...it was just something stupid I did a long time ago. I really regret it. It's nothing really...." So, eventually the voice noticed this and began to poke me and prod me about it. It kept after me, You know, if you're going to have something regrettable on your body, at least make it attractive. When somebody noctices your tattoo, at least have a tattoo that is so stunning you feel proud, stick out your leg, and saucily state, Yes, amazing, isn't it?? Bet you wish you had one just like it!" Hmmmm.....once again the voice was starting to make sense.

Let it be said right here that my husband was and continues to be in 100% opposition to this plan. (Unlike the "let's make a new baby" plan, which, for some reason, he got on board with quite enthusiastically.) He was, under no circumstances going to have a yakuza/gangster wife covered with body art. Now, my argument is, and continues to be, that this cannot be construed as a "new" tattoo. It is merely an enhancement of the lame tattoo that occupied its place of shame on my ankle for the past 13 years. That is my argument and I'm sticking by it. Unfortunately for Jason, when the cat's on the other side of the world, those little mice get shaved and covered with ink! That being said, please tune in next week to read the tragic tale of my divorce proceedings once he sees the "enhanced" tattoo.

Then, one afternoon last month while on a shopping trip with Lisa and Lis, we saw a young woman with a beautiful wrist tattoo of geometric shaped blue flowers. When I asked her about it she said that she'd had it done at Tattoo F.......????? Of course I couldn't remember it when I got home. Gotta love the internet, though, since I was able to find the site of Tattoo Fusion? Tattoo Fashion? Tattoo Fascist? Ah yes, Tattoo Faction fairly easily. What impressed me about their site was that they claimed to be the "best f**king tattoo studio in Northern Ohio!!!" And then the rest of their site goes on to describe their level of professionalism and quality of service. Needless to say, at first I was a bit skeptical. Then decided that, like most things, there must be different types of "professionalism." If you went to see your accountant and he introduced himself by saying he was "the best f**king accountant around", you'd probably find another accountant. Not so, perhaps with a tattoo artist.

I looked at the work of the different artists on the website and decided that Cindy had work that was most suited to what we were looking for. The criteria for this judgment? A much higher bunnies and butterflies to skulls and naked ladies ratio. Next, Jeff was commissioned to create our tattoos. He created a pihranah skeleton for Lisa, a sprig of lavender for me, and a compass sun for himself. My brother is an amazingly talented artist and although these designs sound odd, they are actually quite impressive. So much so that we decided to have them permanently etched into our skin.

So, turns out Cindy is working from her home until Tattoo Faction opens officially on Labor Day weekend but asked if we would be willing to have her do us at her home. I know, I laughed in a very immature fashion every time I said that last sentence, too. Anyway, we were able to schedule all three of us for the same afternoon. My lovely flowers were perfect for their showcase position on my ankle. But the key word there is "ankle" and the little stem part right on the bone itself was cattle-prod painful to ink. I flinched and grimaced like a little girl the entire time. It felt as though every bone in my body was vibrating painfully in tune with the needle. The toe bone is connected to the ankle bone the ankle bone is connected to the shin bone.... and so on.

In conclusion, I must say that Cindy is one of the most f**king professional people I've ever met. She has incredible art all over the parts of her that I saw and rather than just a hack with some ink and a needle, she is a true artist. Over a beer at a bar around the corner from Cindy's house (Jeff insisted that beer speeds the healing process?) Lisa, Jeff, and I decided we shared a bond of ink. I don't know what that means but I thought it just sounds rather intriguing.

So, if you see me around, please don't hesitate to ask to see my beautiful enhanced tattoo. Actually, I may resort to forcing complete strangers to admire it - it's that gorgeous! Now, if I can just get Jason to get that dragon on his chest...

Now he speaka la lengua

Six weeks ago, before we came to the States, our youngest son, Jay didn't, couldn't, wouldn't speak English. Once he started speaking in Chinese, we had perfectly "normal" conversations in which I spoke English to him and he replied in Chinese. Other people's eyes would grow wide and they'd shake their heads - but to us it seemed perfectly normal. Everyone we know in Taiwan speaks some level of Chinese so he was never in a position where he had to try to speak English.

Sometimes, though, when I found myself in an advantageous position, I would try to force the issue a bit. Imagine me holding a chocolate chip cookie just out of his reach saying, "Repeat after me, 'Mommy, can I please have a cookie?'" Finally, as I'd hoped it would, the desire for the cookie usually won out and I'd get a rather resentful "kooookeeeee" out of him before he snatched the treat and got as far away from me as possible before devouring it. One more issue for the future therapist's couch.

As soon as we arrived this summer, however, he immediately sensed that the rules of the game had changed. We had no sooner set foot in my dad's house when he was staring intently up at his grandpa willing him to understand what he wanted - much as a dog might do with its master. Come on man, think, I've just been outside so it's not that, the water bowl is full, what else could it be? That's it, you're almost there.....Yes! He's going for the can of Alpo! When Grandpa didn't read his mind after a few intense minutes, he broke down and decided to try to speak to him. Grandpa, ni keyi mai yi ge fishingpole gei wo ma? And "fishingpole" was drawn out ever so slowly and carefully to ensure comprehension. Dad looks at me. My first and last time as interpreter, "Grandpa, can you buy a fishingpole for me?" Jayden nods enthusiastically, Grandpa promises a pole and we're on our way.

Jay went through the one-word phase of English in about 3 days. The two-word phase in 4 and the three-word stage in 5. After two weeks he was speaking fluent - albeit sometimes strange - English. One day Jason and I just looked at each other and said, "Hey, he's actually speaking English!" For the first week of the phenomenon I was barely able to control my tears of joy every time I heard him speak in my mother tongue.

It seems that the most difficult thing about becoming bilingual is that you don't always have the right word at the right time in the right language. Jayden has taken to using "descriptive language" to solve the problem. I had read about this happening with people in more advanced stages of Alzheimer's - calling an orange "the round sweet juicy fruit" when they can't come up with the name of the thing itself. Jay seems to do the exact same thing - minus some of the dementia. His long-sleeved shirt with the collar is "the big clothes with the neck thing."

The other day when we were staggering out to the car to head out on an early morning fishing expedition, Jay realized he didn't have his Spiderman fishingpole with him. Rather than unbuckle him from the car seat and drag him back inside the house, I figured I'd just ask him where the pole was and run get it myself. He says in Chinese, "It's in the fragrant stinky place." My mind did a quick inventory of possibilities, the bathroom, the garage, the flowerpot that functions as a urinal that I discovered in the back yard....Okay, I shrugged my shoulders and released him from the carseat.

He leads me directly to......the front closet. After he snatched out the pole, he stuck his head back in, looked at me and said, "Yep. It stinks." There is no such thing as a closet in a Taiwanese home so there's very little chance that he'd know the word in any language at all. I myself learned the word in Chinese only three months ago and that was because it was in the freshman English textbook and the students had no idea what I was talking about. "It's like a tiny room with a door that you can put things in." Blank looks. Even when I said it in Chinese they still only seemed to have a very vauge notion of what a "wall - clothing- storage" might actually be.

He is still most fluent in fishing English and bad word English.

Jay's Top-Ten most frequently used English phrases or expressions:

10. Where my Spiderman fishingpole?
9. butthole
8. I caught a peeeeerch.
7. dumbass
6. Where my lure?
5. I caught a sheepshead.
4. You buttass. - I know, what does that even mean???
3. I caught a big white bass.
2. Where my fishing backpack?
1. It was this big. (accompanied by the arms stretched ever so wide gesture)

All he needs is a six-pack of PBR and he'd be ready to join any fishing tournament around. As Jason remarked many months ago, "We don't have a baby in the house any more." No, we have a little bilingual potty-mouthed pre-fisherman.

Blog Beginning

I've decided that rather than sending out my rambling e-mail's from time to time, I've opted instead to post my ramblings on a blog and let any interested parties come here and read the ramblings for themselves. I usually feel a bit strange sending out my "mass mailings" - always afraid that folks will see the message in their inbox and sigh, "Oh great, more nonsense from Taiwan." DELETE! I feel like I'm putting a great burden on you having to slog your way through my e-mails. This way, I put stuff out here and if you're interested you'll stop by. Kind of like an open house. Or a job fair.
If I build it, you will come. I hope.

Actually, I'm not totally sure I even really know what a "blog" is - I did read the explanation at the beginning of this set-up process very thoroughly I really did but I'm still a bit dubious about the whole thing. I've read other people's blogs and they all seem to have such interesting and insightful things to say. And I've yet to read any of them that mention people that end up eating their pets. I'm just going to bore you some more with the strange antics of my 4 boys and our oh-so-average existance in Taiwan.

I'm going to give it a try. Hope you'll write me comments - preferably nice ones but you can send the cruel, demeaning, belittling ones, too since the pre-set-up process information assured me that I do have the power to delete them. I think. I hope....