Snarkiness

“Duh!”

“Really. . .” (not said like a question)

“Whatever. . .”

These words are the new teenage vocabulary of my home. 

A couple of days ago, I found myself correcting a teen at least 5 times for various things she said to various siblings.  In each case, she defended herself, so that my critique sunk to the level of word definitions.

Case in point:

She:  Next year you should help with worship because you’re overly-enthusiastic.

Sibling:  Mom!  _____’s being snarky again.

She:  What did I do?  I was giving you a compliment!  Enthusiasm’s a good thing!

Me:  The word “overly” automatically makes whatever you said a criticism.

She:  No it doesn’t! 

Sibling:  Yes it does!

Me:  Overly means you’re doing something too much.  So the minute you use that word, you make whatever you said a criticism.  (Meanwhile thinking, do I really need to explain this to an honors English student who hopes to read at least 60 books this summer?)

She:  OK, OK.  You are very enthusiastic, is that better?  (all in the snarkiest of tones)

Sibling:  Mom!   ____’s being snarky still!

To one “duh” to many, I even had to invoke Jesus.  “You are SINNING when you say ‘duh’ to someone’s honest question.  The word ‘duh’ is basically saying you’re an idiot.  And what does Jesus say to folks calling each other an idiot?”

She:  (with a lot of eye rolling and sighs)  That it’s bad I assume.

Me:  Jesus says saying “Raca” is the same as murdering them.  “Raca” supposedly means telling someone he’s an idiot.   So to Jesus, your “duhs” may be just as bad as murder. 

That didn’t seem to sink in, so I threatened to charge $1 for every negative thing anyone said to someone else.

Summer. . .  I'm OVERLY not coping thus far. . .

The Problem with Celebrating

Several weeks ago, I posted the resolution that I’m not allowed to buy any new clothing until I’ve lost 5 pounds and maintained it for a week.  At the rate I’m going, I’m not buying new clothes any time soon—maybe even for the rest of my life.

The problem?  Celebrating.

When Scott and I first married, a friend recommended the cookbook Extending the Table:  A World Community Cookbook, a work of the Mennonite Central Committee.  The premise of the cookbook is that most of the world regularly eats a simple (but tasty) diet of vegetables, beans and grains with meat, fatty foods and rich desserts reserved for celebrations.  

The problem with Americans is we eat like we're celebrating every meal.  Hence our weight problem, as well as our over-consumption of world resources.

As 2 InterVarsity staff living in Manhattan, Scott and I couldn’t afford to eat much meat.   Extending the Table was the perfect cookbook for us.  We regularly ate East Indian Spinach and Lentils, Brazilian Beans and Chickpea Curry.  We ate vegetarian A LOT.  And we were SKINNY.  Scott especially got so bony I worried a little about him.

Then we moved to Boston.  Meat is a lot more affordable—especially if you buy it on sale (sales didn’t  exist in Manhattan).  Meat’s quicker and easier to cook.  And kids like meat a lot more than stewy bean and vegetable dishes.

Despite my never-ending attempts to feed the family healthy meals, there's always a reason to celebrate—and to this Chinese Mama, celebrating ain’t really celebrating unless there’s great food and plenty of it.  In this past week we’ve celebrated:

Monday:  Ren’s 5^th grade picnic (I managed to eat only salad)

Wednesday:  Ren’s Moving On Ceremony (ended up getting Chinese take-out at 9 p.m.)

Thursday:  End of the School year celebration Indian buffet lunch with whole family (because weekday Indian lunch buffets are 1/3 the price with more variety than Indian dinners but you can only go when kids are out of school)

Saturday afternoon: 1 year old birthday party (passed on pizza and cake, ate only salad and water)

Saturday evening:  Night out with friends at Ming Tsai’s Blue Ginger--among our all-time favorite restaurants (ate and drank everything—lavosh/bread/butter, red and white wine, appetizers, entrees and desserts!)

Sunday:  Boston Faculty Fellowship BBQ & Pool Party at our house.  I made i-diet worthy wheatberry salad and Texas caviar, but also made Heather’s chili dip, sangria and grilled burgers, hot dogs, brats and veggie burgers.  (ate only veggie burgers, but imbibed about 700 calories of sangria).

Side Note:  Here's an e-mail exchange about the faculty BBQ between me, a colleague and Scott as we wondered whether to serve alcohol:

Me:  do I make sangria and is it OK to serve all that Miller Light Scott bought and doesn’t drink?

Colleague:  I'm down with the sangria for sure.  Miller Light eh?  Scott, did Kappy's have a sale or something?  I say, "Bring it on!"  There is that phrase after all, "Now it's Miller time..." 

Me:  Scott bought all the Miller Lite to welcome his cousin to town—and they drank almost none of it, so we have something like 35 cans.  At least I have something to boil the brats in!

Scott:  First of all, it was a 30 pak.  Second of all, don’t be calling our kids brats.  And I certainly can’t condone you boiling our kids in Miller LIte.

There's just so much bounty!  My life is blessed.  My life is full.  

Way too full.

PandaMania

School’s Out—AACK!

But I’m not panicking the way I usually do.  The kids are older.  They’re more self-sufficient. I don’t have to lifeguard them when they hang out at the pool.  They’re capable of biking and walking themselves around town. 

Plus, this morning all 3 kids are at Grace Chapel’s Vacation Bible School (VBS) with the 2 girls volunteering and Ren attending for the very last year he’s eligible.  This week’s theme is PandaMania, and Ling even brought the stuffed Panda she bought in China to help set the mood in her classroom.

I’ve enjoyed a decaf iced coffee at Starbucks with my computer all morning.   

I am a VBS parasite.  Over the years, I have sent my kids to VBSs all around the Boston area to churches I don’t attend because: 

1.     I need childcare if I’m going to continue working (which my job says I’m supposed to do).

2.     They’re really cheap (usually $25/kid, no more than $50/week—for 5 mornings of 3 hour childcare!)

3.     They’re all about God, the Bible, and eating fun snacks and doing crafts.

I figured that our kids attend public school all year, they should learn about Jesus all summer.

A problem has been that Grace Chapel’s VBS is the first VBS of the summer, and it’s so awesome that it completely outshines every other VBS out there.  Grace runs a veritable VBS machine with 400 kids, about 200 volunteers, and a worship team complete with drums, guitar, keyboards and wind instruments.  Grace also buys all the great plastic goodies that are available from the VBS supplier, something most churches with smaller budgets can’t afford.

Another problem has been that the main VBS curriculum provider only provides 2 curricula a year, which means that our kids end up repeating the same program at other churches, often with decreasing quality and decreasing goodies.  Several years ago, the final VBS of the summer was so pitiful the leader kept telling the kids to lie down and pretend they were napping.  Sad to say, that was at the church we DO attend.

Because of that experience, as my girls have aged out of VBS, they’ve been pretty happy about it.  But the one place they want to return is Grace Chapel.  They’ve volunteered ever since aging out, and love it so much they sign up on-line, attend orientation meetings and set-up meetings, then work with various folks—all of whom are total strangers!

In several minutes, I’ll pick up my 3 kids, plus 5 extra kids to drive home.  We’ll probably swim this afternoon.

Let the Panda-monium begin!

Graduating

Last night, the whole family watched Ren-Ren "move on" from elementary school.  


This is the last time we'll do the Muraco "moving on" ceremony--our whole family is finally "moving on" from elementary school.  Hence, we knew the best part would be the video full of baby pictures, kindergarten pictures, current pictures, and all the years in between.  


Here's Ren at 5 months:

Here's Ren at 18 months:

And here's Ren at his first day of kindergarten:

And in his kindergarten portrait:

The principal gave a nice speech, but it didn't compare to Stephen Colbert's Northwestern Commencement speech, which a friend sent the link for after reading about my celebrity crush on him.  If you have time, listen to it--it's hilarious but also thought provoking.

SPOILER ALERT--WRITING ABOUT HIS SPEECH NOW, SO LISTEN TO IT FIRST IF YOU DON'T WANT TO RUIN THE EXPERIENCE!


After cracking a lot of jokes, Stephen got serious and profound.  He noted that we're told to follow our dreams. . .  but what if it's a stupid dream?  He assured the graduates that if they don't achieve their dreams, they're not losers and they haven't failed.


But just as importantly, if they do achieve their dreams, they're not winners.


This is what he learned doing improv:

You are not the most important person in the scene--everybody else is.  And if everybody else is more important than you are, you will naturally pay attention to them and serve them.  But the good news is you're in the scene too!  So hopefully to them you're the most important person and they will serve you.  No one is leading.  You're all following the follower.  Serving the servant.  You cannot win at improv.

Like improv, you can't "win" your life. . .

In my experience, you will truly serve only what you love, because service is love made visible.  If you love friends, you will serve your friends.  If you love community, you will serve your community.  If you love money, you will serve your money.  And if you love only yourself, you will serve only yourself, and you will have only yourself.

So no winning!  Instead, try to love others and serve others, and hopefully find others who will love and serve you in return.

Wow.  Sounds a lot like what Jesus taught, doesn't it?  


In a culture that can make even 5th grade boys feel like they're already losing because they don't hit the marks they should, it's good to remember what Stephen said, "If we all stuck with our first dream, the world would be overrun by cowboys and princesses."

Where I'm From

Yesterday, when I read Ren's poem, it took me 30 minutes before I realized that I too have written a poem inspired by George Ella Lyon's poem "Where I'm from."

I wrote the poem as an exercise during an InterVarsity Asian-American Ministries banquet about 5 years ago, but never finished it because we ran out of time.  My sister was sitting next to me and wrote her own--unfortunately, I don't have a copy of hers.  But here's my unfinished draft:

Where I'm From
by Kathy Tuan-MacLean

I am from toasted pound cake with margarine for breakfast

From Sarah Lee and Blue Bonnett

I am from the jumbled chaos

Mama’s papers, our toys, the books stacked overflowing on coffee tables and piano bench

I am from the papaya tree growing next to our house

The luscious orange fruit

Releasing putrid smells when split open for Baba’s breakfast every morning

I’m from the Changing of the Underwear at midnight on New Year’s, the Ke Tou in the morning and my parents beaming faces as they hand over the red envelopes

From Loretta and San Fu

I’m from scholars who move history

Who lift their forefingers when declaiming

From “You need to do 110%” and

“Money should never separate family”

I’m from apostate Baba

And Sunday school teacher Mama

I’m from Lafayette, Indiana and China

Hong Shao Beef with White Rice

and Pizza Hut pan pizzas with pepperoni, mushrooms and olives

From a mother who eats sweet potatoes because she had no money to buy them as a child

And a father who grew up in embassies

Our photographs are stacked in the living room bookshelf in Manoa Valley, negatives in the safe deposit box, Baba’s papers at the University of Hawaii Library

I am from Honolulu, Beijing, Chicago, Manhattan, Somerville and Winchester

I find it interesting to see that what I wrote about was about my family of origin, my roots, with nothing about my present other than a nod to the places I lived after graduating from high school.

I saved the poem, as well as the poem guide because I loved the exercise so much.  In case you're ever interested in doing it with a group or even your family (frankly can't imagine my girls going for forced poem writing, even during our family retreat--but hey, maybe we'll try!)  here it is:

Where I’m From Poem

1. I am from (specific ordinary item)

From (product name) and (anything)

2. I am from the (home description)

(adjective, adjective, sensory details)

3. I am from the (plant, flower, natural item)

The (plant, flower, natural item)

(description of natural item)

4. I’m from (family tradition) and (family trait)

From (name of family member) and (another name of family member)

5. I’m from the (description of family tendency)

And (another family tendency)

6. From (something you were told as a child) and

(something else you were told as a child)

7. I’m from (representation of religion or lack of it)

(further description)

8. I’m from (place of birth and family ancestry)

(two food items representing your family)

9. From (family about a specific person and a detail)

The (another detail of another family member)

10. (Location of family pictures, mementos, archives)
11. I am from (several more lines indicating what makes you unique)

Where are you from?  I'd love to know. . . 

I am From. . .

Maybe because Ren's "graduating" from elementary school, I'm on a roll posting about him.

This morning at school, he showed us his accomplishments from this year.

Here's the poem he wrote (with his permission) modeled from George Ella Lyon's "Where I'm From":

I am From
By Ren-Ren MacLean

I am from Christmas songs at Christmas
     (every note drifting out of a rusty brown piano)
I'm from four giant book shelves
towering over me.  Picture books and chapter books
stacked high above me
From our fruit bowl piled high with white nectarines
sometimes hard sometimes rotten
From our refrigerator cascading with soups and salads
all kinds of romaine, lettuce and cabbage
crispy apples, juicy oranges and sour lemons and limes.
I'm from the constant
drip drip drip
from the faucet of our old sink

I'm from a white peely
splintery fence
lined with red and yellow tulips
purple balloon flowers and daisies
From two lilac trees separated by two ugly
bushes and prickly thorn covered white rose bushes
I'm from a glistening white diving board hanging
over crystal clear water that ripples with a light breeze
that is, if Ling and Kai aren't in it.

I'm from boiled and fried jiao zi
Scallion pancakes
Uncle Joe's pierogies

I am from a long wall of albums
baby books and picture frames
from two comfortable but ugly couches
now replaced by a U couch

I'm from many family reunions
delicious Thanksgiving turkey dinner
with the Groenevelds and lots of visits
to CA and HI with the Tuans and Tomikawas
I'm from the MacLeans--Mom, Dad
Ling, Kai and me


For all the chaos, fighting, yelling, whining and challenges of being a family, sounds like it's not too bad being from where we're from. . .

Chips & Dip--Yet Another Way to Avoid Humiliation

Tonight is Ren's 5th grade picnic--a big deal because Wednesday night he "graduates" from elementary school with a Moving On Ceremony.  Sniff!  After Thursday, we'll be a family of middle schoolers and beyond.

Here's an almost verbatim conversation from just now:

Me:  I've got to pick up some things at the grocery store today for tonight's picnic.

This is exactly what the dip looks like

Ren:  What are you bringing?

Me:  Chips and Dip

Ren:  What kind of chips and dip?  The kind you brought to Kai's picnic?

Me:  (How in the world does he remember what I brought to his sister's 5th grade picnic 2 years ago?  But because I only make one kind of chips and dip--I just go with it)  Yeah.  The kind I made for your birthday party on Friday.

Ren:  Good.  That way you won't embarrass me in front of my class.

Me:  What I bring to a picnic could embarrass you?

Ren:  (poking his chest out and rolling his eyes)  Yah!!

Me:  What food could possibly embarrass you in front of the class?

Ren:  VEGETABLES!

Me:  Vegetables would embarrass you?  Why?

Ren:  Because we would look like health freaks.

Me:  And being a health freak looks bad?  What's so bad about it?

Ren:  Because no one's going to like it, and it looks bad if no one eats it.  Chips and Dip is good.

Sigh.  This morning as I drove home from the gym and waved when passing one of my progeny walking to school, she crinkled her nose at me.  Usually she waves and smiles and looks happy to see me even though I'm sweat drenched with hair sticking up all over the place.  But today, apparently I embarrassed her too.

Was it my appearance?  Was it the wave?  Was it the smile?  Who knows?

A little out of spite, but also because there's nothing Scott and I will be able to eat as we resolutely march on with the i-diet, I think I'm also going to bring fava bean dip with crudite just because I can. . .

Let the public humiliation begin.

Auntie Heather's Taco Dip

My sister-in-law brings this Dip everywhere--and it truly is the easiest but also most addictive dip in the world

8 oz. cream cheese (I use low-fat)
1 can chili (I use Hormel Turkey chili)
8 oz cheddar cheese (can use mexican blend, jack, pepper jack, whatever you like)
Tortilla Chips (I like lime flavored Tostitos best)

1.  Spread cream cheese on bottom of pie plate
2.  Dump chili over it
3.  Sprinkle cheese over it
4.  Bake for 20 minutes in 350 oven, or if you're pressed for time just microwave it for 3 minutes.
5.  Mix it up a little otherwise people will just scoop up the top and leave all the cream cheese