another year, another moon cake

My sweet little trans cultural family will be heading to an Autumn Moon Festival party tomorrow evening. This is one of my family's favorite events. Last year the night included a dance party sandwiched in between the eating of moon pies and the lantern parade. In honor of this important Chinese holiday I wanted to re post an essay I wrote two years ago about my last minute search for moon pies. While you enjoy reading this I will be off at the party, enjoying keeping track of my big four and a half year old while trying to keep the tiny toddler from climbing too high on the playground equipment and convincing them both to eat dinner as opposed to only eating the grapes while jumping up and down. I don't know why, but my boys spend a lot of their day jumping up and down...



Originally posted in October 2009.

The things we do for our kids. Two months ago I emailed the president of the Columbus chapter of Families With Children From China to voice frustration over our membership dues from last year never being cashed. It is time to pay the dues for this year, and we never officially became members last year. And believe me, we tried. I have never had such a hard time trying to join a group- it was worse than a high school clique! So I say this to the new president, nicely, of course, and the next thing I know I am being invited to attend the next board meeting. Apparently, I was not the only one unhappy. As it turns out, though, I was the only one unhappy who accepted the offer to attend the meeting. Really, people. Don't speak up if you aren't willing to help facilitate the change. Otherwise, you are just complaining. And no one likes a complainer.



















So I attend the board meeting, and I speak up, and before I knew it I was heading up a play group for 2 year olds and offering to purchase moon pies and jasmine tea for an upcoming event. That was a month ago.


















Wednesday I went to Sam's club to buy the moon pies. 100 moon pies. Our membership had expired, so I went straight to the customer service desk to renew it. I waited in line for 15 minutes behind a very tired looking mother of two who were running around the grocery cart in wide circles. So wide, in fact, that I had to repeatedly pull my cart back and out of their way. Oh, and they were screaming at each other as they raced around.


















Finally it is my turn. I whip out my expired card and hand it over to the cashier. Who politely tells me that I don't pay at his desk, instead I simply pay when I check out. "Great", I say, pulling the word out of my mouth slowly. OK, that's 15 minutes of my life I will never get back. I turn my cart around and head into the store, straight for the snack food aisle. I push the cart up and down aisle after aisle, full of nuts and candy and gum and good lord, enough toilet paper for a small army, but I cannot find the moon pies. And I cannot find the jasmine tea. I toy with the idea of waiting in the check out lines anyway so I can renew the membership, but then I come to my senses and head out the door.


















Turns out, the guy standing at the door checking receipts just in case someone decides to stuff 52 rolls of toilet paper under their sweater is unaccustomed to customers leaving the store without making a purchase.


















"I need to see your receipt." (I am not even holding a bag or carrying anything in my arms. Where does he think I stashed my purchase?)


















"I don't have a receipt. I didn't buy anything." I keep walking. He takes a step backwards to keep up with me and stops me.


















"You didn't buy anything? You don't have a receipt?" (They hire the best and brightest, right?)


















"Yes, I did not buy anything."


















I won't bore you with the rest of this conversation, all of which took place with me walking out the door. He actually followed me for a few steps. Are we paying more than we need to for our Sam's Club and Walmart purchases because they have to support this position on their payroll? But that is for another day.


















So that was Wednesday. I got in the car, and I drove home. OK, here is where the story gets weird. I leave my house the next day, Thursday, to go to work, run errands, have dinner with Matthew and Brad, take Matthew to his music class.... not once does the thought of moon pies and jasmine tea enter my brain. Friday arrives. Did I mention that I need these pies by Saturday?


















So I remember halfway through the morning that I need these moon pies. I wonder where I am going to get them. I am picturing myself hitting up every gas station mart in the county, buying 3 moon pies at a time. Oh, and it is pouring down rain. I lament my situation on Facebook and my awesome friends come to rescue. The Wonder Bread outlet store. I would never have thought of that in a million years. Instead, I would have driven to every grocery store in town. I swear there are days when I barely remember those amazing SAT scores....


















I call the store and they do have moon pies. I say I need 100. The voice on the other end of the phone says, and I quote, "Well good lord, ma'am. That can't be good for you." Well no, I would expect not.


















I wrap up my morning of work and leave the house. At the last minute I grab the GPS. I let it lead me through major construction, 1 mosque so busy that there is someone in the middle of the street directing traffic. Mind you, this person was not dressed as a traffic cop. or as any kind of cop. I think it may have been a member of the mosque. I then pass a catholic church with a real cop out front, stopping me once again. I pass a bar in a house. Really. The hand painted sign out front tells me that this bar just opened, and there are curtains in the window acting as a backdrop to the flashing neon "Bud" sign. The upstairs windows are open and I see a headboard. It looks as though either people still live in this bar-house or they recently vacated. I have never seen anything like it.


















I pass the Wonder Bread store because I was still thinking about the bar-house. I turn around, and there it is, like a shining star in front of me. I walk up to the door, feeling quite pleased with myself for averting a moon pies crisis. Then I see it. A sign on the door stating that food stamps are welcome but credit cards are not. Oh, so close. I'm not sure how I feel about this. Should someone paying with food stamps even be buying moon pies?


















Sighing, I head back to the car. I think I was muttering to myself a little.... I program "bank" into the GPS and head back the way I came. I pass the spot where the GPS is saying "You have arrived at your destination", and I look around. No bank. I see a grocery store, but no bank. I turn around and pass it again. No Bank. Seriously, I JUST NEED MOON PIES. Why is this so hard?


















Finally I figure out that the bank is INSIDE the grocery store. (You already figured that out, right?) I get the cash and head back to store, where I find the moon pies and start loading my cart with boxes. At the checkout the cashier screams- yes, screams, for her co-worker. "The moon pie lady is here!" Wow, now I am the "moon pie lady". Cool. The co-worker comes rushing out of the back of the store and practically runs to the counter. Everyone in the store stops and looks at me. Everyone.


















"We have to know why you needed 100 moon pies." Really? If I refuse to tell you will I have to leave empty handed? You HAVE to know?


















I explained the Autumn Moon Festival my family would be attending the next day.


















"So Chinese people celebrate by eating moon pies?" Yes, we ship them over to China by the hundreds. Dear God. I back pedal and explain that no, Chinese people do not celebrate with moon pies. That they, in fact, celebrate with moon cakes, but that our Chinese children, growing up in America, don't often eat moon cakes so they don't always like them. Which is where the moon pies come in. I am not sure they understood, but suddenly I did.


















The trip to Sam's Club, the waiting in line, the road construction, the bank, the questions from the cashiers. A lot to go through for a few moon pies. I probably won't even eat one tomorrow as we hand them out to our children. Our kids will eat these moon pies as they sit and listen to the story of the Autumn Moon Festival and it's meaning in their native country. They will finish them just as the sun goes down and the moon shines brightly in the sky. Those moon pies will just be a memory as our children light their lanterns and walk through the grassy field in the lantern parade that will bring the celebration to a close. It was a lot to go through for 5 minutes of enjoyment sandwiched between story time and a lantern parade. But for those 5 minutes, our children will be so happy. And maybe they will have a better understanding of how their two worlds come together, bumping up against each other every day.

no one tell matthew that russia is the largest country in the world

When we planned to add a second child to our family I knew that there would be some jealousy. Our happy little four year old had been the high prince of this castle for three years, reigning over us, his lowly parents. I expected the jealousy over sharing toys and bedtimes. I expected my older son to want to hang off me every moment I was holding our new little guy. I read up on how to introduce the new child to the family. I was prepared to have special "mommy and matthew time" so our older son would be assured to still get one on one quality time with me. I helped Matthew sort his toys and encouraged him to set aside a few special toys that he wouldn't have to share with his new little brother. We explained to Matthew that he would be getting a new, later bedtime when his brother came home, so that he could stay up a little longer than "the baby". I really thought I had it all under control. And everything I expected happened, right on schedule. Normal sibling rivalry. A thousand times a day in my world my son can be heard stating "I can do _________(fill in the blank with some sort of childhood activity, such as eating Popsicles or riding bikes.), because I am the big brother. Alex can't do it because he is a baby." Literally, a thousand, times. a. day.

Some jealousy is tolerated, some is nipped in the bud. It is all understood. And it was all expected.

But recently a type of jealousy I did not expect has started popping up. A type of jealousy that could only occur in a family brought together by international adoption. And it all starts with a geography question.

"Mommy, are there more people living in China than in Russia?"

"Mommy, are the toys better in China than in Russia?"

"Mommy, were my nannies better than Alex's?"

"Mommy, I bet the subway in Russia is not as good as the one we rode in China." (He cannot possibly remember riding the subway in China but he loves subways and so has heard the story of his very first subway ride numerous times.)

"Mommy, is the candy in China better than in Russia?"

"Mommy, is the food better in China than in Russia?"

And the questions go on and on and on. And on. And they get more in depth the deeper we go into the conversation. I actually had to hop on the computer the other day to look up the population of the birth countries of my sons. I would imagine that other mothers of four year olds do not need to memorize the population of large foreign countries just to appease their child.

Because of my little doodlebug I have learned so much. I know all about dragon boat races and the Autumn Moon Festival. I know why it is so important to clean the entire house before the Chinese New Year. I know how to say a fair number of words in Mandarin. I can eat with chopsticks, albeit not always gracefully. I can cook a mean stir fry and I know what spices make up the amazing Chinese five spice combo. Because of my oldest son I can say I have ridden a subway in Guangzhou, (very clean!) I know how the hamburgers taste in the Hong Kong airport (like American hamburgers!),  and I know the joys of squeaky baby shoes, (so cute but somewhat noisy!). And now I am starting to learn facts and geography about my oldest son's birth country.

As my younger sons grows I am sure I will be looking up facts about his birth country as well. And I know that I will be gathering tidbits of knowledge about Russia as we grow as a family. I also know that I will be answering questions about China and Russia for years to come and, quite possibly, breaking up fights between my boys as to whose heritage is better. Other moms get to referee tussles over toys and girls. I get to memorize demographics and geography. sigh.... OK, so no one tell Matthew that Russia is the largest country in the world. Shhhhhhh......

taking time for tea, part II

Every parent wants to pass cherished family traditions down to their children. I am no different. When they are much, much older and settle in to a permanent loving relationship I want them to place a new "family" tree topper on the top of their Christmas tree, just as their father and I did our first Christmas together. We are still using that angel and every time I see her glowing up there on top of the tree I remember my husband telling me that we needed a new tree topper, one that held only memories of "us".

I love the fact that my four year old goes to the Cleveland Browns games with his dad and that we all go to the Indians games. We watch the games on television and both my husband and son have their favorite players they watch. Being football fans is a tradition we will share for years.

We have holiday traditions such as our elf , Fritz, who visits us every Christmas season. We celebrate Chinese New Year and Autumn Moon Festival. We have many family traditions, big and small. And one of my favorites is our tradition of taking time for iced tea. It may seem insignificant but it is huge in my book.

When I first started to date Brad we found ourselves doing all those date night things every couple does. We took in movies, plays, and even a monster truck show. We went to concerts and out to dinner. We window shopped on  Main Street, USA. And we took our time. We got to know each other over glasses of iced tea.

This "taking the time for tea" tradition did not stop when we got married. It did not stop when we added the kids to our happy union. And this tradition is already being passed on to our children.

Last Saturday Matthew, my four year old, and I hit up the weekly farmer's market in our town. This is also a tradition that just Matthew and I share, started a few years back when he was still a little one in a stroller. Now that he is older he still looks forward to this weekly visit. We walk up and down the streets, taking in the colorful fruits and veggies at each stand. We discuss our planned purchases and what we should bring home to Daddy and then we make our selections. Matthew helps me select the very best looking corn or strawberries, he talks to the farmer's, hands over the money, checks out the tractors and wagons. Sometimes he even carries the bag, until it gets too heavy and he hands it back to me. Sometimes we see people we know from church or daycare, and he is always so happy to stop and chat with a friend of mommy's. I love these weekly excursions and miss them when our schedule can't accommodate them. This past week we had to run an errand after visiting the market and so in between we stopped for iced tea.

We sat side by side in the booth, both of us drinking iced tea, cooling off from the very sunny, very hot walk through the farmer's market. We talked about our fruit and veggie purchases and all of the sights at the market. We talked about how pre-school is going and about Mommy's new job. We talked about how things were going with Alex's transition into our family and about Matthew's plans to see a Cleveland Indian's game with Daddy the next day. We talked about the dog we plan to get next Spring. We talked about his friends and his China play group. We talked about his birthday. (This is a favorite topic of my son's. Even though his birthday is seven months away and there are numerous holidays to celebrate before his birthday he still wants to discuss his birthday party, in detail, every chance he gets.) We talked. And drank our iced tea.

I want my sons to understand the importance of being still. I want them to be able to slow down, to stop running from one activity to another and just "be" with someone. I want them to enjoy the little moments in between the big moments. I want them to always be able to stop and take the time for tea.

Prior to traveling to Russia to bring our youngest son into our family I was given a very special book as a gift. "The Three Questions", based on a story by Leo Tolstoy, is a beautiful story about the importance of living in the moment. The basic theme of the book is that the most important moment is the one you are in right now, the most important person is the one you are with, right now, and the most important thing you could do is whatever you can do for the person you are with, right now. This is easier said than done. There is no room in this "taking time for tea" moments for taking cell calls or checking email. There is just time for "being".

Hopefully when my kids are older they will continue to tell me what's on their mind. Hopefully they will always have the time to take for tea with Mom. Hopefully they will have learned, at the bent elbow of their iced tea drinking parents, the importance of celebrating those little moments, every day.