Play date

I hooked up with my friend Linda and her daughter, Li En, a week ago. We decided to meet at the Long Beach Aquarium which was a good midpoint destination since we live about an hour and a half from each other. In usual fashion (although you wouldn't know it from the picture) we decided to meet on a Friday. I swear I have no grey cells left in that cavernous brain of mine. Every day camp in the greater Los Angeles area had decided to have a field trip there that day. It was insane. The place was crammed like a can of sardines. I squid you not. When you purchased a ticket they gave you an appointment time for later on in the day to try and pace the ebb and flow out of the aquarium.


Of course, we disregarded the appointment time and dove right in and, once there, Makena wanted to go left and Li En wanted to go right. One wanted to see the jelly fish inside, the other, the sharks outside. I had brought along, Daisy, one of Makena's older friends because it just wasn't going to be a challenge to lose one child in a crowd. Why not go for two? Heck, three! Thankfully, seasoned from my Asia trip, I didn't lose too much sleep when I momentarily lost sight of my girls. Linda was more stressed about it so I knew she would make up for my slack. I also took out my pen and tattooed the three girls with my cell phone number on their forearms... just in case.

Li En and Makena were both from the Qianjiang SWI, both born a week apart. They were the same height, had the same skin tone and hair coloring and the same energy level - although Li En was a better listener by far and had not learned how to do a fake smile. Other than that, the girls hit it off famously and had a great day together. Linda did mention at the end that we should meet in a park next time.

A relaxed play date. What a concept.

Is - a - considering it.

Alaska

Jack's come a long way since he first cast and (promptly lost) his Scoobydoo reel in Big Bear Lake when he was two. EM took his eleven year-old on a five day salmon fishing adventure to Prince of Wales Island in Southeastern Alaska. Jack did his own casting and reeled in his own fish and loved loved every minute of his time spent there. Even though Jack and EM were fishing the waters ten hours a day, Jack still couldn't get enough. The boat would come in and Jack would hop off, grab another reel, and fish off the dock until the mosquitos became too bloodthirsty.


For those in the know, fishing is more than catching fish. Fishing is mostly waiting (without getting bored). It requires patience and that, in turn, fuels meditation or introspection and leaves you open for profound conversations. Jack never once complained about the time he spent waiting for his hook to lure a catch.


Jack became a true fisherman on this vacation. Mostly though, he spent amazing quality time with his dad that the two won't soon forget.

Isabelle

Here we go again

I got woken up by Makena's crying around six thirty in the morning. I went into her room to check on her and she was boiling hot - the kind of heat coming off her body that sent me into a quiet panic. I knew at this point that she was a ticking time bomb. She wasn't even warm when I put her to bed the night before. How could this happen? I quickly rushed to the kitchen and poured her a glass of juice. I scrambled to get a dose of tylenol and then returned to the room to try and coax her to drink either to bring her temperature down. Every attempt was met with screeching and tears.

(EM and Jack had taken off the day before for Alaska and my nephews were asleep at the other end of the house. I would be taking them to the airport for their flight home in a couple of hours.)

Before I could strip her down to cool her off, the nightmare I had lived through two years ago replayed itself. She suddenly jerked back stiffly in my arms and started to shake violently. Her eyes rolled back. She was having a febrile seizure. I watched this happen with surprising detachment. I think that my heart rate probably dropped to thirty beats per minute as I went into robo-mom mode. I remember hesitating between walking into the shower in the master or heading for the bathtub in her bathroom.
I opted for the latter.

I carried her jerking body and sat us both in her tub. I turned the cold water on and proceeded to splash her feet and then I let the water run up her legs and stomach. I drenched her as she jerked away. I was fully clothed and soaking wet holding her for I don't know how long. Probably only a minute which seemed like an eternity. I kept replaying the mantra my pediatrician had told me the last time this happened which was if the seizure lasts less than two minutes: Don't call 911.

The seizure stopped. I wiped the foam off her mouth and then I crawled out of the bath and laid her on the floor and proceeded to soak a bath towel and covered her with it. I then grabbed a hand towel, soaked it with cold water and placed it over her head and forehead. It was hard. Her eyes were staring straight ahead, nonreactive. I knew she was breathing. Her lips weren't blue. I called the pediatrician's office and left word with the operator that I was having an emergency.
I called,Wendy, my neighbor - who told me to call 911. By the time Wendy was in my house, Makena's doctor had called me back and was telling me to bring her into the office to check her out.

I handed Makena - still unresponsive and soaking wet - to Wendy and rushed to get dressed and grab clothes for Makena, when I realized that my two nephews were still here and asleep and supposed to leave for the airport in a couple of hours.

I grabbed their passports and ran into their room to wake them up and tell them as matter-of-factly as I could what had happened. Poor guys. What a way to end their stay with me. I handed them their passports, told them to make sure all their bags were packed and that I would let them know in an hour or so if they would have to take a taxi to the airport or if I could get a friend to drive them.

They walked me out and said goodbye to Makena and then Wendy drove me to the office. We didn't bother putting her in the car seat. I just held her in the back of the car as she slowly came to. On the way there, I called my other good friend, Debby, and asked her if she had the time to drive my nephews to the airport. She didn't hesitate and quickly told me that she could.

When we arrived at the pediatrician's, the staff was waiting for us and quickly directed us to a room and measured her vital signs. By then, Makena was cognisant, annoyed she was wet, fever less and seriously unhappy. Hurray, her fighting spirit was back.

Our doctor reassured me that she was going to be fine. Strep, ear infections and swine flu were ruled out. I was instructed to alternate between overlapping doses of Motrin and Tylenol for the next 48 hours to stop the fever from reoccurring. I was reminded that her febrile seizure did not cause her any brain damage and to call the office if I had any concerns or if she started to vomit. Nice.

On the way home, I called Debby who was driving the boys to catch their flight and told them that their cousin was okay and to have a safe trip home.

I debated whether to e-mail EM and Jack what had happened and decided to do so on the way home when I knew that we were in the clear. There was virtually no cell reception where they were staying at the fishing lodge - except for one spot by the end of the dock. I texted them to tell them what had happened, figuring that they had left to fish for the day and would get the message in the evening when they returned. And, of course, EM go the message within minutes of me sending it, because they hadn't left when I thought they would. He was naturally freaked out and ready to come home so I had to reassure him that his daughter was okay, that I could handle it and not to hop on three planes to get home and to go out and catch lots of fish.

I spent the weekend in pajamas with Makena letting her drink "spicy apple juice" - which is what she calls Sprite. We played with puzzles, read books, took our medicine, napped and recuperated. It was a very mellow 48 hours for a change.

My friends have all asked me how I stayed so calm through all this. I don't know. Since it was obviously different this time because it had happened once before and I knew what was in store, I went through the motions. As it was happening, I did keep telling myself to remain positive. It was stressful, sure but I didn't cry.

I have had several conversations with Makena's doctor over the lat two years about the reoccurrence of a fever induced seizure and he has coached me to resist sending her to the ER because of all the invasive procedures they do. The first time it happened we spent a day in the ER - as they botched her i.v., ran cat scans and drew blood and urine - mostly to rule out abuse. It was a horrible and traumatic experience for Makena, much more so than the seizure itself. They took one look at the Mongolian spots (birthmark) she has on her back and assumed that the seizure had happened because we were abusing her somehow. Not fun to be put on the defensive when you don't know what has happened to your child.

Now I do, but were this to happen again (which it most likely will as she won't be free of these until she is about five or six) and I wasn't around and the sitter or my friends freaked out, then obviously I would expect them to call 911.



I need a vacation. Wait. I just came back from one.

Is - hanging in there.

Testosterone

Although my children slept most of the return flight home and we sailed through customs and our bag was not lost, I was exhausted. (I give myself a golf clap for traveling to Asia and packing three people's worth of clothes for fourteen days into one suitcase that did not exceed fifty pounds!) Nevertheless, my little adventure justifiably left me drained from jet lag and, prior to that, pounding the pavement visiting four countries with temperamental companions. All this tempered by the constant fear that I might lose one of them along the way.

So, yeah, reentry was brutal. The coup de grace being the synchronised arrival of my teenage nephews for their annual two week visit with me ON THE SAME DAY I RETURNED HOME. Masochistic, is the word that comes to mind. The only thing I did right (other than opening the door to let them in) was to have a car pick them up at the airport because there was no way in hell that I was going to return to LAX to pick them up six hours after setting foot in my house. Thank God they were now too old to be "Unaccompanied Minors." And since El Mysterioso was already at the lake house, I was still technically single-parenting and now I had two more individuals to add to the mix.

Two cute, tall, skinny teens greeted me with a grunt and a slap on the shoulder and proceeded to raid the pantry for something to eat. I returned to bed.


I vaguely remember the fourth of July. When the fog lifted and I regained my bearings, we had joined EM in the mountains and Jack and my nephews had their posteriors embedded in the couch with the remote control fused to their hands. Makena used them as her personal jungle gym and they were happy to entertain her which was quite gratifying to see. I went back to bed.

What is it with teens? Is it the advent of facial hair or the adjustment to testosterone that turns once sweet, curious little boys into mini cavemen with monosyllabic responses to questions making conversations a thing of the past? EM thought two aliens had descended upon us and kidnapped Jack who was so happy to surrender himself to them for their teenager boot camp.


Trying to get them to pose for a picture was impossible. Their radar was on full alert and anytime I pulled the camera out, they would bolt or hide. I seriously had to pretend to be looking at something on my phone to capture their images surreptitiously. A yeti would be easier to photograph.


Seriously, their two week visit with us is always the highlight of Jack's summer, he loves them so much.

Regardless of our minor communication issues we love having them around and for all their quirks, they are always happy to play with their youngest cousin or attempt to beat me at ping pong. (Never going to happen!)

Is - ugh - belle

Food for thought

One of the highlights of our Asian adventure was when we stumbled upon a fish spa outside the zoo. Jack had essentially spent the last three years since our adoption trip fantasizing about the hour and a half foot massage he had been privy to in Beijing, pre Makena (seen here, below) and I believe that part of his eagerness to visit Singapore was colored by the thought of getting his feet massaged.



But nothing could really prepare him for this new aquatic sensory experience: dunking his feet in a tub filled with "doctor fish" who took it upon themselves to eat the dead skin off his feet! We all tried it. And once we got over the tickling and surrendered to the pulsing sensation a hundred-plus fish created while nibbling at us, it was actually quite soothing and relaxing - even though it was weird and wild. It didn't hurt. No blood was drawn and no fish were harmed (that I know of). Jack would have stayed a whole hour - had the session not only lasted ten minutes. The dunk was immediately followed by a half hour foot massage which eventually sated his appetite but my boy was hooked on fish spas.


And thus every outing we set upon after that, for the remainder of our stay in Singapore, was always colored with his longing (okay, whining) about finding another fish spa to go to.

Jack was near tears when this field trip did not materialize and I promised that we would try and locate one in Hong Kong and go there, time permitting. I did eventually locate one in Kowloon but it was much too far away from where we were to go hunt it down. It wasn't until we started talking about his obsession with Kenwyn and Doug that we discovered that they had been to one in Macau. This revelation cemented our resolve to visit the country. I really did not want to return home to the U.S. without making this happen and they were kind enough to watch Makena for me while I took Jack and Esme to have our feet doctored.

I swear, if this had not happened, he would still be talking about it and airing his disappointment. I eventually found out that there is a fish spa in Las Vegas and one somewhere in Ohio but I have kept this information to myself.

Food for thought.

Isabelle

Fake smiles

Imagine my delight when I was able to get Makena and Amelie to look in my direction and smile.

I quickly realized that they were both fake smiling.

They dropped all artifice once we handed them the candy.


Nevertheless, the girls still have a thing or two to learn from the master fake smiler. (Pictured here as we waited to board the flight home to Los Angeles.)

Is - onto them.

Macau

What can I say about the Las Vegas of Asia? Not too much other than "Have children, will travel." We decided to hop over to Macau with Kenwyn and the girls (Doug joined us in the evening) to spend the night at the Westin Hotel which was away from the gambling and had a lovely pool. The expedition involved taking a one hour ferry ride over, getting our passports stamped and hopping on a shuttle to the resort. It was a bit of surreal deja vu driving past the strip of Casinos vying for our attention. Of course, I didn't take any pictures of said establishments. You will just have to take my word for it.


Makena napped the whole way over which made for a relaxing trip and some quality time with Jack.


Moms on the go.


The shuttle was exciting because there were no seat belts.


The kids probably spent about four to six hours at the pool. What a surprise.


I snapped this street corner scene after we left restaurant Litoral - touted the best culinary experience in all of Macau. Delicious Portuguese cuisine.

Exploring...


This was a bus stop outside another great restaurant Doug uncovered for us. It was called Fernando's and the wait to get in was worth it. We dined on sea food and stuffed ourselves silly in hundred degree weather.

Then we ran back to the hotel, grabbed a shuttle and returned to the port to hop on the ferry back to Hong Kong. All went well until Makena had a tantrum of seismic proportions upon arrival which led me to hail our own taxi back to the apartment. Jack, in classic form, rode in Amelie's cab to avoid being associated with me. His sense of preservation is quite well tuned. Frankly, I would have done the same.

What an adventure.

Is- still standing.