What I Learned Today

In Japan, the talent show that would be the equivalent of America's Got Talent, was (at least up until 2006) called...

wait for it....

wait for it....

Mongolian Cow Sour Yogurt Super Voice Girl !!!!!!!!!!

It's Baby Time! (da-na-na-na...na-na...na-na)








Koby



My baby turned 21 on the 16th.
My little boy.
I can't believe he's already 21 years old.
Trite as it sounds, it really does go by So Fast!

When he was a wee one, he was a major handful. He emerged from the womb kicking and screaming and stayed that mad for about four years. We called him Gozer the Gozerian and Hell Baby. If it was sharp, poisonous or on fire, he was all over it.

One day, when I had the audacity to go to the bathroom by myself, I came out to find he had stripped naked, climbed to the top shelf of the pantry, and tossed the (glass) bottle of canola oil to the floor. No, that wasn't just last week; he was about a year and a half old when he did that. So here I come, around the corner, and find him like that, naked and clinging to the shelves, the kitchen floor covered with about a half an inch of oil and a zillion shards of glass. Oh, did I mention I was running a daycare at the time? How many of those kids do you think also headed for the kitchen to check out the show?

Koby helped me a lot in entertaining the daycare kids. He showed them how to bypass the security clips on the cupboard doors to get to the box of "shiny popsicles" (ant stakes) and how if you laid down on your belly and reached under the edge of the dishwasher, you could use your tiny fingers to pry out hidden clumps of old dishwasher detergent (?!?) because, evidently, they are a delicacy to babies.

My first kid was so easy. This one? By the time he was two I'd had to call the Poison Control Center three times!

Koby's early school years were spent half in public school (where they wanted to exorcise him) and half in home school (where he flourished). His dad taught him for fourth grade, then I taught fifth and sixth. By seventh grade Koby was yearning for peer association, so he went back into public school. In spite of my protests, he insisted this was what he wanted. I told him school was no place for socializing, it was for academics, but he insisted. I gave in, telling him that what he starts he must finish so there was no going back on the deal or screwing off with his work once he was in. When we picked him up after school that first day back he jumped in the car and declared, "Get Me Out Of Here! The kids are so rude! Everyone just yells and messes around and you can't hear the teachers, even if they yell, 'SHUT UP!'"

Sorry, kid. You made your decision.

Then came the teenage years. Turbulence doesn't describe it, but it wasn't because of Koby. Life tossed us over the waterfall and tumbled us around, over and under the rocks. I had to pull him back out of eighth grade when I learned he was failing (failing?!) and they were going to pass him along into ninth anyway. Over my dead body! I brought him home, gave him an assessment test, and began at the beginning to cover all seventh/eighth grade material he had not absorbed at the junior high. It took longer, but that wasn't the point. Life at home had been like a 9.0 earthquake, so it wasn't a big surprise to me that Koby was having trouble paying attention at school, but I knew he was smart and with patience and perseverance we would get through it and get him educated. By the following year he was ready to enter high school.

Koby's teenage years were rough but we clung together, sometimes biting and scratching, and made it through without either of us drowning. Now he has grown into an ossum man with so much wisdom and strength. He makes me very, very proud.

One of the traditions in our family is that the birthday king (or queen) gets to choose what we'll all have for dinner. This year he wanted raviolis and lasagna. Yes, both. At the same time. So that's what we all got. He loaded the disk changer up with Mob Hits, Louie Prima and Dean Martin and we lip-sinced at each other across the table. As the meal wound down and we lounged over dessert and coffee, he looked at me with a satisfied smile and said, "Now this is what dinner is supposed to be like."

At the end of the month he's moving out. Not far away like my other boy, thank goddess, but I'll still miss him. Koby is hilarious, artistic, musical, helpful and responsible (the latter being an adjective I apply to him with a great sigh of relief). I'll miss the way he can make a drink squirt out of my nose without notice.

O, Sousanna, don't you cry for me!

Well, coincidentally, the letter from World Vision arrived today. It says, "Sousanna is no longer available for child sponsorship. Her family has moved out of the region as part of a resettlement plan organized by the local government. At times, families like Sousanna's are relocated to different areas for social or economic reasons."

Yikes. A very ominous statement considering we're talking about Armenia. Steve says I shouldn't fret - they were probably just being disruptive.

So, moving right along, Koby and I sat down at the computer tonight and picked a new pook. Meet...

Nazeli


This little doll is just two years old. She was born in June of 2007.

Nazeli lives with her parents and one brother. Her father is a driver who struggles to provide for the family.

I've been un-pooked!



World Vision World Vision
----------------------------------------
Dear Mimi,

The World Vision office in Armenia has notified us that your sponsored child, Sousanna Hakobyan, is no longer participating in World Vision's sponsorship program. Please watch for a letter in the mail that will provide more details, and take a few moments to look through the information enclosed with the letter.

We know that it can be sad when a sponsorship relationship ends. Through gifts, correspondence and shared prayers, many sponsors develop close relationships with their sponsored children. We want to thank you for your generosity and commitment to Sousanna. Please know that your love and support have made a difference in the life of this precious child.

photo Watch your mail for more detailed information

Well, I didn't exactly have a relationship with Sousanna yet, but this is sad in a way, and I just hope that her dis-association with the program means that she and her family have risen above their poverty and are doing well. If I learn more once I receive the correspondence from World Vision, I'll post an update, Regardless, I'll pick another pook.

Stay tuned...

Why

This is why I do what I do, and why I wish you would, too.

(18-minute video) (go ahead, take the time to watch)


Thank you. Go save the life of a child.