Family

Knuckle Grapes

A visit to Sam’s brought a new 3 pound container of green grapes into the house. While not all past vine dwellers were as welcome, I am happy to say my daughter picked very well today. The texture gave slight resistance and the skin was just the right firm. The only thing slightly wrong with them was their size! Most of the grapes were as large as the top half of my thumb! As we ate some of them with lunch, the smaller mouthed individuals made each grape last for 2 or 3 bites before the grape was fully consumed.

After lunch, my son decided to participate in a game we occasionally do to assist in father-son bonding. Usually the game consists of tossing M&Ms into the air on an arc toward his head. If I do my job correctly, a couple small neck adjustments will allow the M&M to easily be caught in his mouth. Because we apparently needed to do some “power bonding”, we attempted the M&M trick with these over-sized, under-seeded fruit ovals. My sons skills were quickly evident. He adjusted how far he opened his mouth (he had to open it ALL of the way), but otherwise, it was the same eye-mouth coordination as before. The first two grapes followed this pattern. He zeroed in on the grape, caught it in his mouth, and he was careful not to choke on the green projectile.

Although I did not consciously want to “mix it up”, my sub-conscious was likely a little bored. The third grape did embark on an arc just like the other grapes, but as it knuckle balled (my fingers planned this without my realizing it) toward my sons mouth, it ended up being to great of a challenge-the “center” of the grape was to hard to calculate . It smacked him in his upper lip as his mouth was anticipating the impact. We did allow a “knuckle-less grape” do over which was much more successful.

While fruit does not always bring people together, I am glad my son and I can “rework” old games with grapes as a centerpiece. I have not always been a perfect father, but on the days when I “know” I have done a pretty good job, it usually involves a bit of laughter and a dash of ridiculous.

Would You Like A Paper With That?

Happy Thanksgiving to all! Do you have your ads yet?

As my wife and I got up this morning, she made the coffee while I wondered out to Walmart to get the paper. (I do feel badly they are working today. However, due to a dispute with the “Fort Worth Star Telegram” over their vacation policy when subscribers “hold” their paper, we are not getting a paper over the past few weeks. It is my hope my wife and I will come to a resolution before Thanksgiving arrives next year.) As I drove the mile or so to acquire our paper, I found I was not the only one on a similar trek. As I walked through the doors, I quickly looked to the right where the papers are usually stacked. With the “paper” area completely clear, I quickly glanced to the left. Fortunately, a space on the left was full of papers! I grabbed one, used the self checkout to pay when I found the bar code, and after a couple of “Happy Thanksgivings”, I was out the door and heading home.

As I pulled into the garage, I noticed a small problem with the paper–it was “The Dallas Morning News”. The shrunk wrap bag of ads was still prominent, so I was pretty sure the presentation of the paper would be well received.

Me (to my wife): Do you want the good news or the bad news?
Wife: They were out of papers with ads?
Me: No problem with the ads; I just grabbed the wrong paper. I just hope you like their puzzles, too!

After looking over the ads, eating our crockpot pumpkin oatmeal w/ coffee, and doing some initial shopping strategizing, the food prep continued.

Our little re-purposed, brightly wrapped tissue box is waiting to gather all of the Thanksgiving notes (What are you thankful for? Write it down and stick it in the box.) today’s attendees deem worthy of the effort. As we set down at our meal, we pass around the contents so they are equally distributed to all who share our table. You may or may not get your written contributions to read from the box, but you will hear your “thanks” read to those you are sharing the table with.

Regardless of how you express “thanks” in your home, please make a special effort to be thankful for the abundance of blessings – both appreciated and under-appreciated. May all of our lives be richer for this “holiday pause”. May we look across our lives and find some area where we struggle to be thankful and commit to trying a little harder. May we look across the table and commit to be nicer or more patient with someone with whom we are sharing this meal. And, since we are Americans, may we forget what we don’t like about our country for a few hours. May all of our eyes be open to see the blessings that are daily all around us!

Fun Parents

As I sat down at McDonald’s today to tap into their internet and slurp on an slightly sweetened iced tea, I was greeted by a family sitting two tables in front of me.

The dad in his early 20’s had droopy jeans, a knitted hat pulled over his head with a bit of hair sticking out, an unshaven face, and a couple of tattoos above his elbow peaking out from under his t-shirt. The mother had her back to me. She had shoulder length black hair with a black t-shirt. The youngest child (under 2) was in a highchair with his hair combed into a rooster type style. The older brother (no older than 4) was facing me, but blocked by his mother. He looked to be his younger brother PLUS 2 or 3 years.

As I notice the youngest brother begging pancakes off of his father’s plate, I see the smile on dad’s face as he continues to fill the nearly perpetually gaping mouth. I see little brother reach for dad as he goes to refill his Dr. Pepper (Don’t leave me dad.) . I see mom haul little brother to the bathroom to change a diaper. I see big brother watching everything going on while keeping the hand moving from plate to mouth. I see how both boys are wearing clothes that could easily be described as pajamas. I decide I will say something to the parents (see Blessed Eggs), but as they get up from their table, they go into the play area.

When they emerged from the play area, I couldn’t help but make a comment. I am not sure it was the best comment, but it was the one I had:

"You must be fun parents.  Not every parent would let their kids wear pajamas on a     drizzly day."
"Thank you. The boys insisted.  They just got their new pajamas yesterday.", she       replied.
"You guys enjoy the rest of your day.", I said with a smile.
"You, too.", the dad said with a bigger smile

It isn’t your appearance or my standards that make you a fun parent. It is how your kids see you. I have no idea what this family’s home looks like, but I know this family knows how to love their kids. I am not so arrogant to think my words made any difference in their day, but saying the words did in mine.

Syrup on the pajamas? No problem. I am sure this loving mom will have them washed for bed tonight.

Blessed Eggs

As the “alarm clock” (My mother calling from a time zone to the east) went off this morning, the day began. With everyone needing to be out of the house by 10:00 (or so I thought), the coffee got going and the breakfast options were decided.

I had boring toast. Even though it was some special new flavor from the discount bakery, it worked well with peanut butter, so I was content. My wife pulled out the eggs to get her diet its necessary protein fix. I wrongly assumed the eggs were for her, when she had already decided they were for my son. As my son (the one heading to a day of food prep at Chick Fil A) watches my wife make his eggs for his breakfast this morning, I scold him for letting her do it.

He casually replies, "I am making the toast."
Unfazed, I reply, "I could make toast in a body cast."

My son and I laugh. My wife glares. My daughters look annoyed as they turn up the volume and continue watching the DVRed “Once Upon A Time.” As my sons scrambled eggs are plated with toast on the side, my wife finishes the carton with the eggs that will serve as her breakfast. Before putting the egg carton in the trash, she glances on the inside lid. She is rewarded with a bit of inspiration.

Psalms 118:24 This is the day which the LORD hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it.

Prior to realizing this message was inside the carton, I was just glad to get eggs at $0.79 a dozen from Aldi’s . (Below cost, but it certainly sucks me in the door.) Now that I know this message is there, I think I will smile a little bigger knowing somebody, somewhere cares enough about my eggs and my day to sneak in a bit of encouragement. If an egg carton can encourage, what can I do to encourage the people I interact with today?

My Son, The Network Marketer

My son gave me a call yesterday afternoon. He let me know he would be late coming home. He was going with his friend to an “opportunity meeting” of a particular network marketing company. He assured me he would not “get in”, and we left it at that.

A few hours later, right before the meeting was going to start (I can only guess his friend was really talking up this opportunity before the meeting), we had a text conversation that went something like this:

Son: I think I am going to sign up. I can make my money back quick.
Me: Please don’t!
Son: Why not?
Me: It is your money, but I will not support you unless we talk about it first. Your
friend makes money when you get in. I discourage this highly!

He then went “dark” for a couple of hours. He had signed up for this “great” opportunity. Unfortunately, he seemed to be following in my footsteps:

In my early 20s, I did join Amway. (My brother joined first. I just followed him along to the meetings and the events.) It was a social outlet. I didn’t have the conviction to sell the product. I bought a few items, but always seemed to be buying things I didn’t need to keep up my “points”. I used the excuse I was too young when it came to contacting “successful” people. I did sponsor a few, but either I was not very good at it, OR they were not really that interested. If I had the chance to talk to my son first, I would have told him about this. Maybe it would have changed his actions.
In my 30s, a friend joined Shaklee. He was really sold on a couple products they had available. (I believe they were for air filtration.) I made no effort to build a Shaklee business by getting my friends in. I advertised in the local “suburban” newspapers and tried to sell the product. I forgot how long I did this, but I don’t believe I got one phone call. If my son wanted some of my thoughts on network marketing, I would let him know that despite any claims he may have heard or who endorses the company, the product does NOT sell itself.
In my 40s, I signed up with Ignite. They sell energy and gas in a few southern and north eastern states. They started in Texas (where I live now). So, although Texas is a big state, there are many companies that resell electricity in Texas. Although I believe Ignite/Stream has a quality product, there are other choices. If you are shopping price only, they are probably not your cheapest choice. But, they will be there tomorrow. Within the next couple of months, Ignite will also offer cellular services. They are not the only company or the first company to provide wireless service through a network marketing organization. If someone buys a service “product” from me, it is either because I was first to ask OR they are related to me. Selling a utility is more than just the product-you are also depending on their customer service and support. Many people are hesitant to switch providers for services/utilities they rely on. Some will, but some will refuse. Since my sons new network marketing company sells services, I would have been happy to explain this to him before he paid his substantial membership fee.

Will his money be wasted? I doubt it. I hope he can develop a business and be successful at it. (I am NOT negative network marketing, but I am aware of the statistics and facts.) If he does not have the success he thought he signed up for, then losing a little money in pursuit of a dream-no matter how sincere-is not such a bad thing. We can hope our kids will come to us and seek our feedback on many thing ESPECIALLY things we have already gone through. We can also hope they attend college for 4 years with straight A’s and get the perfect degree before marrying their perfect spouse and before having their perfect little house full of kids.

If raising kids had a formula that guaranteed each kid would clear life hurdles perfectly when the equation was completed, the government would legislate it. (Of course, this would guarantee the perfect formula would still fail.) Despite my excessive blabberings/encouragements/rants/stale-jokes and sermonettes, I continue to have a number of experiences my kids haven’t brushed up against yet. When I am not volunteering “guidance”, I am listening for a dad’s favorite question, “What do you think, dad?”

Courting An Old Friend

I don’t know if I truly have fewer friends now then I did when I was younger. (I am certain I see them less often.) I have very good relationships with my kids, so that is likely where the focus of my friendliness has been directed. However, as the kids get older and I get glimpses into what the crib/nest/home will look like when it is just my wife and I consistently sitting down at dinner together (my wife and I do get along well so it is not very disturbing), I start wondering who will be in my “friend circle” when the kids are all out stretching their early adult wings. And, is at this point I consider the “courting” of an old friend…

This specific friend and I have known each other for over 40 years. It is no exaggeration to say we were very good friends back in “the day”. We both attended a small Christian school together for most of elementary school. And, while we went to different high schools, we usually saw each other once a month or so. When it came time to go to college, we both joined the National Guard and went through Basic Training together. (The tuition reimbursement was the reason I served our country – sad I know.) Due to different health issues, neither of us finished our obligation, but both did make the effort to serve. As we moved into early adulthood, we developed different interest and different friends. While I dated less often, I became engaged and married first (he was in the wedding). My friend was better looking then me. He wanted to make sure he didn’t miss the right gal when she came along. So, he made it through his 20’s without getting married.

When our 30’s rolled around, my wife and I were having kids. He came to visit a few times, but the relationship was certainly changing. Where I had been fortunate to marry a woman with a career that far exceeded my potential, he continued to work hard and not get any great breaks. I am sure I may have lacked sensitivity sometimes. I am sure I said some things that may have been taken much more personally than they were intended. I am sure life’s experiences have made me a better person than I was then.

In our 40’s, my wife and I did foster care. We had quite a few different kids in our house. And, if our friends didn’t have kids and didn’t like lots of kids, they were even less frequent visitors than they were in our 30’s. Our kids grew and stayed active in soccer or gymnastics or whatever other activity was appropriate for young girls and boys. The last half of my 40’s was spent in Texas, so social ties from my previous life were even scarcer.

With the arrival of a new decade and a new set of life’s events, I wonder if our friendship can still find enough mutual energy to be revived? After getting your number a few months ago, it took me multiple months to text you. When the text sat idle for a couple weeks, I figured I had the wrong number or there was no mutual interest. After your eventual reply, I find you now have a Facebook account. It doesn’t look like you have changed much at all!

Truly, I am not sure if friendship revival is a likely outcome. While I selfishly crave the sincere compliment of a very old friend and the memories of the good old days that would unavoidably occur, I am concerned that his emerging out of the time machine into my life anew might be better in the virtual than the reality. LOTS of time has past and LOTS of experiences have been lived and forgotten. We are no longer the same people. Assembling the puzzle pieces of our previously shared lives and connecting them to our present lives might be more challenging than either one of us has the energy to expend.

If we don’t ever really reconnect, I wish you the best.

Nicknames For Naughty Children

After seeing all of the recent Christmas decorations at nearly every retail location and reading or hearing what stores will be open what hours on Thanksgiving day, it would only seem to be appropriate to have a Christmas post. Not wanting to follow common convention, I have only used it as a springboard rather than as a commentary on commercialization…

As my kids grew to have personalities, they also grew to have unique ways to go against the system of rules, both written and unwritten, that allowed our household to function, As part of this, each child had a unique pressure point we would ocassionally have to push to help them remember those rules and the importance of obeying the one responsible for implementing and overseeing whether they were adhered to the rules (i.e. the parent). (By definition, some household rules may be “stupid”, but stupid parents have been making the same stupid rules for so long, that the stupidity of the rules has become so ingrained it is now thought to be wise.) Each child required a different pressure point to encourage their cooperation in our mutual journey through these “rule-heavy” years of the “single digits”. (With our kids, the adolescent years have seemed much easier when a slightly firm hand was used while they were younger.) I think the “naughty names’ was most effective on my oldest daughter, but in the spirit of fairness, all of them were occasionally forced to be recipients of the “verbal abuse”.

Terrible Tim: Our oldest fit the definition of first born. He wanted to please. Almost every time we asked something of him, he responded on the first request. His “naughty name” was usually only used when followed by a wink.
Jerky Jeffy: This nickname did not get used often. I didn’t like how it flowed. It didn’t mean he didn’t deserve the name. He often required multiple requests to get moving and on task. On the positive side, he was usually smiling when he got there. A stern look could keep him from truly crossing the line.
Crabby Abby: She was know for her intermittent meltdowns. When all other methods of getting her attention had failed, the “Crabby Abby” name got her attention. (Her name also lends itself to “Grabby Abby” and “Gabby Abby”. When she was playing nicely, either of these other names might also have applied.) Uttering this name made her pause and evaluate how others might be perceiving her. Fortunately, she was then sensitive enough to calm down. We also found it was unfair to refer to her by her nicknames after bedtime-her bedtime continues to be rather necessary. Post-bedtime does not bring out the best in her!
Rotten Rachel: For nicknames, I far prefer the use of rhyming rather than alliteration. This nickname is no exception. It is difficult to picture my youngest daughter being anything other than sweet and helpful. Part of this “fogginess” is likely due to our doing foster care for most of her first 6 years of life. She “had” to have a name, but I either didn’t have to use it often, or the rest of the chaos in our lives far surpassed the possible mischief of our youngster. I have since been told by my older daughter how the sweetness was a partial mirage-she was not always as innocent as she tried to appear.

My kids have never been naughty enough to blow their commercialized Christmas reward. They are good kids, and we have never allowed coal into our household. We try and be fair with packages and fair w/ our budgets for each of the kids. As they open each package, they typically say “thank you”, and only sometimes do we feel guilty that we didn’t spend more on them.

Naughty or nice, kids need rules. And, coercing our kids to obey the rules was customized to the individual child. We messed up sometimes; we nailed it sometimes; and we were left wondering how to do it better most of the time. Nicknames was only one of the weapons in our arsenal against the cry of “Mine, mine, mine!” When the goal is a well-adjusted adult, every weapon is valuable – whether an existing tool or a new weapon/technique from a book.

Bottom line – God didn’t make any mistakes. Are we patient enough to find the right technique to help each child thrive?

Deseeding The Jalapenos

We typically make our carnitas once a month or so. And, although the eating of the carnitas (tacos, fajitas, tex-mexey stuff) is quite popular, the prepping of them is not. While the use of the food processor helps greatly in mincing the jalapeno into many mini bite-sized pieces rather than many larger ones, it is the deseeding and the mere handling of these scovillian packages of mouth-granting pain (and eye and skin and nose and anywhere else where there is skin sensitivity) that causes near mutinous rebellion. (They also complain about onion prepping as well. Fortunately, they are still willing to cut zucchini, broccoli and egg plant.)

The techniques for cleaning the jalapenos have varied, but not by much. My personal technique and the technique I was prepared to use prior to the ambitious volunteer arising from the household of homework-focused young ladies was simply, “cutting off the ends; cutting them in half longwise; and using a spoon to scrape out the seeds”. Most of the techniques previously tested in our house were this technique or variants of it.

Our Chinese student (AKA The Volunteer) was not a newbie to the test of the jalapeno. (As the Chinese have some sort of torture which likely involves bamboo and being tickled by a panda, a person from Mexico may have a torture involving jalapeno [or hotter] peppers and being licked by a lizard.) She had not left her first contact with jalapenos unscarred. She was having to use some acupuncture and hypnosis strategies prior to again approaching the jalapeno task. Despite her initial reluctance, she committed herself to cleaning all of the 15-20 jalapenos she encountered on this visit. Her technique was largely the one I used with the exception of the plastic sandwich bag worn over her hand. As she worked her way through her pile of peppers, (Did Peter Piper pick a pile of pepper or was it a peck?) the pepper juices were seeping into her protective bag. To limit the seeping, she installed a paper towel to try to minimize the jalapeno/skin contact.

As the carnitas cooked all night and we awoke to our Friday morning routine, I did not hear any complaints from our “volunteer” For that, I was grateful. She didn’t complain about the odd skin tingling that follows soaking hands in jalapeno juices. She didn’t mention her eyes hurting from the introduction of juice into them. (Although the juice could get into the eyes by holding a pepper over your eye and squeezing, touching the eyes with tingling jalapeno hands [Odd “jalapeno hands” uses alliteration when it is two totally different letters of the alphabet.] is the most likely source of the pain.)

I love the interaction with our teenagers. Whether they are my bio-daughters or my exchange-daughters, they keep me guessing on how to relate to them. They can be moody; they can be curious, and they can sit back and stare in complete wonder why an adult is not acting how they believe an adult should act. I am good with all of that! It is my hope (and prayer) each one of them can keep their sense of wonder and ability to be slightly inappropriate a couple hours a week!

Threes a Charm

During the course of our marriage, my wife an I have owned a few cars. We have had two trucks, a few cars for her to drive to work, and 4 total mini-vans. Based on the present mileage and the daily driving I am likely to do, tomorrow is a virtual lock to be the day we “flip it”.

Based on the history with our mini-vans, this achievement is the source of some concern.

Our first minivan died on the way to school. (We bought it used from a guy I worked with.) The boys were in preschool. The van died before we got to school. We called the tow truck. I believe friends picked the boys up and finished taking them to school while I went with the driver to the dealership. I don’t remember what we paid, but they did use the “old school” method of buying a car. He took every one of my offers and had to “show” his boss. The van we bought that day served us well…that is until it hit 100,000.
I was driving my oldest daughter home from soccer practice. The van was fighting me the whole way home. Once I hit the driveway I coasted to the end of it. The van had less than 101,000 miles. Due to our fostering and the fear of being without a minivan, we were already a two minivan family at this point. We absorbed the loss of our “beater” minivan, and we shifted all minivan driving to our solo van. As time allowed, we did get a second van so we could have the comfort of a backup.
Both of these van moved to Texas with us a few years ago. As the older van was stretching to the 100,000 mile marker, our oldest son was preparing to drive. Although it was not a cool car, it was his “get me to school” car. Unfortunately, it did not serve in this role long. Just after the 100,000 mark, our son had a collision that totaled it. Everyone was fine. We were left with our one van. It is this van that will be graduating tomorrow to what has been very dangerous territory for our vehicles.

It did have a collision in the spring, but it recovered and has been treated well since. It had two flat tires in one day last December, and it still got us back to Ohio only a few hours late. It has allowed us to fill everyone of its 8 seats a number of times with friends and travel supplies as the 6 of us traverse states to the north and east of us. We are hopeful it will do many more great things before it expires. If already has a couple of trips on its schedule for Christmas and Spring Break.

This is our third try at getting a car to zoom past 100,000 without a hiccup. We think we have done all of the right things. It has a new battery; it has all of the appropriate maintenance. (The cabin filters may be a little dirty, and their may be a couple shopping cart or door dings on its aging exterior. We don’t wax it regularly, but it has been through the car wash twice in the past month.) We “hope” it goes for another 100,000 miles. (Frankly, I would settle for another 50,000 miles.) We don’t visualize some witch doctor creating a voodoo “doll” of our van using carpet fibers from the floor mats or paint chipped off from a deliberate keying. We just know when his time is up, it is up. After he has gone his last mile, we want a place where he can go to watch the young cars drive around. (Not sure if this is the ideal retirement for a worn out car. I was trying to think what might approximate grandchildren.)

Completing this POST-100,000….

As I ran a set of errands yesterday morning, I forget entirely about the changes transpiring on my dashboard. As I hopped in the van to pick up my daughters, I looked down and was completely shocked to realize the van and I were 9 miles past the “flip”. As my morning miles were quickly relived, I thought, “Oh, that happened!” It is my hope the unobserved passing of the 100,000 mile mark will be followed by MANY more unobserved miles as we work toward the last mile of our van’s service to our family.

Sick Exchangeling

It was bound to happen, but we didn’t know when. As the fall flu season dropped upon us, the flu had to choose its first victim. For whatever reason, he (it could be a she as well. I don’t know if sicknesses have a gender, but I am sure most of the female population would enthusiastically refer to germs as “he”) chose to make his first home in the only Korean host available on our street.

We were quite sorry to see her get sick! It totally kicked her tail! She slept lots and ate little. What she did she was…well, you know. As my wife and I discussed her illness, she was likely a good home to the germs for a few reasons:

No resistance to the US bugs: If we went to Korea, we might also have the same problem. Our bugs have some slight funkiness that allows them to more easily attack the bodies w/ little resistance. He chose well–he totally took her out!
Lack of sleep: Two months ago, she was on a schedule 14 hours ahead of us. After having been here two months, she should have it figured out by now. But, due to the demands of homework (yes, she does attend a private Christian school, but they are making accommodations to help her get past the language problems.) She seems to insist on going to bed after 11:30. Since the first two months of school have also been cross country season and accompanied by a 5:00 wake up call, it is hard to sustain yourself very long w/ that little sleep when your brain and body are being pushed every day.
Eats everything: This theory seems to have fallen apart. She really likes to eat, and maybe she just ate too much. I have teased her during a few meals. She will eat a couple of good servings of one of the side dishes. She will then have 4 or 5 “micro-servings” of the same side item. And, after the meal when the leftovers are being put away, she may eat a little more. Sometimes, while the leftover meal is still cooling, she will grab a few nuts or some other snack (usually healthy) to fill in whatever gaps may have arisen as her stomach’s contents settle..
Having window open: Our other Asian exchange student thought the problem was their window being kept open to far. With the cooler nights we have been having, it was her concern the extra coolness may have somehow “possessed” our Korean student. She was able to refer back to a couple instances in her past where “to much coolness” was able to make a person sick enough to throw up. I could believe one “bathroom visit”, but she had numerous visits…
Food poisoning or something like that: Since we had a birthday meal the night before for our other Asian student, she ate a wide variety of items with different spice levels. She also may have eaten something that was not prepared correctly. (Her meal was shrimp lo mien.) The length of her sickness and the fact no one else got sick also makes this theory doubtful…

Once we got past the excessive sleeping and the doting on by the Asian room mate, we needed to try to get her better. Eastern and western approaches do vary. They were also the source of some conflict:

Our healthy Asian student wanted to stay home with our Korean student as the rest of us went to church Sunday morning. My wife quickly trumped her and let her know, “I am the mom. This is my job.” I do not think this compromised the quality of care she received, but it did draw the lines early which form of treatment was going to win the “treatment” battle.
Eastern medicine: I did not witness all of the treatments, but eastern medicine was a small part of her treatment. Our healthy exchange student did the following for her(I did not witness but was told) : she rubbed some oils into her body (not sure how or where), she may have also done some “acupuncture-ish” type things to her using her fingers (?), and she made her congee to eat. (She doesn’t call it congee normally, but does it for our benefit. Congee is a rice gruel we experienced while in China in 2013. It is made by boiling rice in an excessive amount of water. The results are similar to oatmeal. It has minimum flavor. It is also very low risk for agitating a recovering stomach.)
My wife wanted to give our Korean student some Tylenol to lower her fever. Although our Korean student did call her mother, I cannot help but think our healthy exchange student was an influence. She told us NO Tylenol. Since no eastern medicine was sent along with our exchange students w/ any type of manual of how to treat any and all of their various ailments in an acceptable non-western way, we emailed her mother so we could be granted permission to administer the Tylenol. Although she did grant us permission, it still seemed like an excessive burden. Unless we are given specific instructions to the contrary, we should be able to treat the exchange students like our own–in sickness and in health.

She is back at school today. After missing a day of school, she should have an extra day to do homework. If she did not spend 3-4 hours a night doing homework already, this might be helpful. However, the school continues to be grateful for the contributions of the exchangelings. They exposes the school’s students to different cultures and different ways of thinking. And, how many times have you heard an American refer to having the flu as “dancing in your belly?” (Hearing the descriptions of a non-native English speaker continues to amaze me. She uses words in ways I would not have otherwise assembled. ) Having exchange students continues to be a good thing. We are in for the journey not for the little adjustments along the way!

Walking Down Life's Road With Andy