Lock me up, those apple wedges are mine

Though I always wish for a chill  travel experience, I rarely get it.  Sometimes, like on our trip to NYC, I puke uncontrollably and get scolded for using too many puke bags (and yes, two years later, still bitter).  Anywho, yesterday's travel experience was fairly delightful.  Not only did we fly on a brand new Airbus jet (lovely commodes, high tech seats), but we got to move our seats together (we were all apart at one point) and Ryan was a real peach. 

The only little hitch was the repeated stern lecturing I got from some off-duty Agricultural agent at the gate for "sneaking" contraband produce into the terminal.  And by "sneaking" she would be referring to the fact that I PUT MY BAGS THROUGH AGRICULTURE security twice and it passed right by them...I wasn't hiding or sneaking anything. 

Okay, maybe I was.  But seriously, I wasn't going to declare that I had some washed, peeled apple slices for my son because they would have seized it.  And I knew it wasn't going to be an issue because I've done this about eighty times.  It's just not a big deal, I don't think Ag cares all that much about what leaves the island, it's more about what comes in.  I also don't see the point of why ag would worry about produce simply returning to the land where it was grown.  I was simply taking it back home, GO TO YOUR HOME! (Sorry, Happy Gilmore reference.)

So we're standing at the gate, munching on some apples when she marched over and told me I had better finish all those apples right there at the gate because she was shocked, and just could not believe that I had managed to 'sneak' them past Agriculture.  I politely thanked her for concern, and kept munching away. A few minutes later,  just in case I was too dumb to understand her earlier instructions, she reiterated that we would have to eat all of the fruit, right there.  I replied that we would, and turned away to roll my eyes.  Seriously woman.  Get a life.  But she wasn't quite done yet, because unable to stop herself, a few minutes later she offered to throw away any remaining apples we might have had, because really, it was no trouble at all.  At which point she reminded me that we weren't supposed to have them there... because it was against Agriculture rules.  You know, in case I didn't know.

At this point I wanted to take my contraband, terrorist apples and shove them down her throat.  But I smiled and pointed to the trash can ten feet away and said that we could handle it ourselves.  I could tell she was about ready to have a stroke, but thanks to the unwritten code amongst Asians, neither of us was going to create a scene, so we did what Asians do best- we silently seethed at each other. 

Because she was clearly watching us like a hawk, a few minutes later I loudly asked Rich to throw them away, secretly hoping that he would not.  And while I will neither confirm nor deny that he disobeyed a direct order from an off duty United States of America Agricultural Agent tasked with securing our borders against alien apple wedges...I will say that I was very pleased with his decision.

The moral to this story?  Unless you want your mug alongside mine in the Agriculture Office, steer clear of smuggling any illegal apple wedges onto the plane.  Trust me, it's a problem.  So not worth the prison time.

Goodbye gluttony..hellooo California!

Ryan and his Christmas morning loot...(largely due to his two Grandma's who always go overboard)!

And the Award for Best Gift goes out to...that very special someone who saw my blog post and got me what I wanted this season...a giant gummy bear!  Friggen' awesome, right?

Every year I swear to spend, bake and eat less, and while I failed miserably at the latter two, it was worth all the love and laughter we shared with our Big Island friends and family. So we're very excited to be heading out west at the crack of dawn to see our California friends and family tomorrow!

This year we're packing a little more cargo since I'll be in running a few days each week while we're up there..  Even though my last training update was back in the second week of November (week #9 of 19), I continue to plod along (currently in week #16) & complete most of my scheduled workouts.  So if all goes well, exactly ten days after we return, I'll be at the Bay to Volcano starting line (feeling nervous, terrified and sick to my stomach, but that's okay...as long as I get there)!

The Magic of Santa

Four years ago, Rich was asked to step in as Santa for Ryan's preschool.  It was so last-minute that he didn't even have Santa-appropriate shoes to wear, so Santa had to explain to the kids why he was wearing rubber slippers (it was just 'sooo hot' in Hawaii...they bought it).

Each year, Santa has found ways to improve his role.  This year Santa not only wore reading glasses (clear vision be damned!) for better authenticity & disguise, but he also entered the room playing the ukulele and singing along with the kids to "Jingle Bells!"  It rocked!  A look back in time at the evolution of Santa...

Santa 2008 (The Year Santa wore rubber slippers)

Santa 2009 (The year Ryan refused to make eye contact)

Santa 2010 (The Year we thought the gig was up)

Santa 2011 (The Second Year we thought the gig was up)

Needless to say, our little boy is still an adorable, clueless wonder.  But will the bearded, bespectacled, fat man in red be able to pull this off for another year?  We'll just have to wait and see.  :-)

Rockin' our finest Christmas apparel

Heading out to a friend's Ugly Christmas Sweater Party (but we couldn't find any sweaters in Kona, so we improvised)!

Thank you, dad!

Whoo-hoo!  Only 3 days until Christmas!!!  Celebrate!

Here's a little not-so-secret-factoid about me- I love to plan ahead for the holidays.  I derive a secret, somewhat smug pleasure in not having to completely stress out and fight the crowds every holiday season.  So a few days ago, I was kinda surprised that when I asked Ryan what he wanted for Christmas, my passive, not-so-direct Ry Ry admitted that, "Maybe I want a bike or something."

I wasn't totally surprised, because his cousins Keni & Riki and friends Naomi & Noah have them.  But I hadn't gotten him one because as of earlier this month, he wasn't exactly zipping around on the barely used tricycle we'd bought him...so I figured we'd try to get him to use it until his 4th birthday, and then spring for a new bike then.

But that was three weeks ago.

Ryan is now flying out the backyard on an old trike (still not the one we paid for, of course), enthusiastically crashing into my parent's laundry pole and howling with delight. And the other day he quickly figured out how to ride his friend's 'big girl' bike with training wheels. Which means mama is in trouble, because Ryan is clearly ready for "a bike or something." I figured it would be no big deal to get one since we hadn't bought him a present anyway (he gets enough from others), and Kona doesn't have crushing hoards of people trampling over each other for Leap Pads (discounted Spam is another story). And with three big box retailers, surely one would have a little bike without sparkly pink unicorns all over it.  Not that Ryan wouldn't have TOTALLY loved that.  Case in point (& brief side bar):

The other day I looked around  and noticed that someone had 'decorated' the entire living room with his ever growing beaded necklaces collection (thanks, mom)!  

You gotta admit, it does spruce the place up a bit.   

But back to finding a bike...

So I quickly hopped online, and saw a whole lot of these messages- sold out, sold out, sold out, sold out.  There were larger, much pricier versions of similar bicycles available, but $96 for a teensy, tiny little bike Ryan would surely outgrow in 6 months?  It seemed a bit extravagant, and certainly not something that thrifty, little Ms. She-who-plans-ahead would want to have to buy.  So I did what I had to do whenever I find in myself in this kind of pickle.  I pulled out the big guns.

I called my daddy.

This is the man who has procured every car we've ever purchased, always for less than we'd ever imagined, usually with an accompanying invitation to the car salesman's house for dinner anytime he wanted.  The man who has gotten every airline ticket change fee we've ever needed waived (with an upgrade to the executive lounge and business class of course).  Daddy don't mess around.

So once I called, guess who hopped into his truck with my mother that very minute and then came rolling back up the driveway in less than an hour with a bigger, badder bike than I ever would have dreamed of, in the right size, that my father somehow talked his way into getting for a little more than a third of the listed price?

Wayne.  That's who.

So dad, I officially forgive you for making us get red ant bites while pulling weeds at ungodly hours on the weekend (when most other children were happily guffawing at the Flintstones)...for making us run and fetch you the remote control because it was four whole feet away from you (even though we were 20 feet away)...for making me move a giant pile of cement dust from one side of the front yard to the other and than deciding that yeah, it was probably better off where it was earlier, so go ahead and move it back...for asking us the same question six times in five minutes anytime any NFL game was being televised...for paying us well below child slave labor wages to move rocks and then still being stingy about granting us the occasional thirst-quenching Tang breaks...

Thankfully, all of your work ethic and sacrifice has rubbed off and rewarded you with a 37-year old, semi-unemployed daughter that continues to live in your home, mooches off of you (thanks for the beef stew bowl the other day!), and makes unreasonable requests that you find her son a highly coveted bicycle only four days before Christmas.  Pat yourself on the back for a job well done.

The big baller himself with his 'two girls' at dinner the other night...

Learning how to play Angry Birds from Young Ryan...

The actual birthday boy of the night!

Did someone call 911?

Bringing it home...

Donning our finest, sparkliest gay apparel for the festive Jingle Bell Run

This past Sunday was the Jingle Bell Run, and once again, our little guy entered the one-mile distance and finished it in 17:49. Taking into account the nasty spill he took just before the finish line in the previous race (that likely cost a good 30-seconds), this means he had an improvement of roughly 8 seconds from the Wobble & Gobble. Whoooo-hoooo!  Break out the sippy cups and apple juice!  Mama and daddy are so, so proud!  :-)

A few pics of the super duper fun day:

Because our zippy little boy doesn't stop (not entirely true, but...), every picture we have of race day is a blur!

Ry Ry approaching the finish line and finishing strong!   

A final PS (and just what you've all been waiting for)....a Toe Update!!! Though I'm still growing out 2 toenails lost during the Hilo Marathon last March, I have just lost two more.  My toes have never looked finer.  And by finer, I mean more disgusting.  Still, they're kind badges of honor, you know?  Like scars.  You earned 'em.  So I'm not painting over them, they're there to say- Mama ain't fast...but mama can run until her toenails turn purple and die!  I better trademark that, because THAT is clearly a winner of a marathon t-shirt quote!

Lessons from the Master (for you...grasshopper)

I survived!  The Cliff Notes version of the run- woke up at 4am, started running at 5:30 with my friend Karen (while using a flashlight), felt pretty tuckered out by mile 16 (never a good sign), remedied that with increased gels and salt tablets, caught my second wind around mile 20 and finished feeling much better than I ever have after doing a 26-mile run. Still, I wouldn't call the run a total success...painful lessons were learned.  But in the spirit of giving, I will share them with you.

Lesson #1- No stuffing your face the night before a marathon.  You know how you're not supposed to pig out the night before a race?  Today I found out why.  Like, four times why.  Last night I went to another one of Rich's Christmas parties, and some sick saboteur decided to serve up some delectable stuffing baked with cranberries! And oranges! And mac nuts!  Let's just say that I was quite liberal in serving myself that and about fourteen other delicious things to eat...more than once.  Needless to say, I waddled out of the party moaning about my distended belly and cursing my lack of self discipline (and especially with such a long run pending).  This morning I woke up to my stomach gurgling and consequently- made many, many, many, many (count 'em) potty stops.  It was very uncomfortable, and definitely not recommended.  Ms. Piggy has learned her lesson.

Lesson #2- No tissue blotting while in the can.  During one such potty stop, I happened to be profusely sweating and decided to lightly blot off some of the sweat with toilet tissue so it wouldn't run into my eyes.  A baaaad, bad idea.  Because as I learned today, when you're that sweaty- there is no such thing as 'light blotting.'  The tissue just disintegrates all over your face, so that approximately 267 little pieces are left stuck all over your cheeks (which you would know if you actually had a mirror on the wall...and I did not).  I found this all out a few hours later when I returned my car and saw a bunch of white, dried tissue still nicely adhered to my face. I'm sure the dozens of passersby and motorists just assumed I had a rough time shaving off my beard this morning. So ladies and gents- no sweat blotting while in the can.

Lesson #3- Save the bikini bottoms for the beach.  Do you know why triathletes do not run wearing bikini bottoms under their tri-shorts?  I do now.  I quickly figured it out after I got in the shower post-run and howled from the numerous raw, chafed areas that I will refrain from mentioning in any detail because this is a family-friendly blog site. So take note of this equation: Generous application of Body Glide + excessive sweating in humid weather = CHAFING EVERYWHERE (private areas NOT excluded).

Feel free to thank me in person for my bountiful, overflowing heart with gifts of gold, frankincense & myrrh, or better yet, a gift certificate to the Cheese Palace (I'm not sure if such a place exists, but if it does, I definitely want to be there).  Just not the night before a long run.

Gearing up for Christmas

It's not a bad life being Ryan M...

About a year ago I started the nightly bedtime ritual of telling Ryan the next day's schedule.  It not only put a smile on his face and filled with him anticipation, but more importantly, I thought it helped prepare him for what to expect the next day.  However, over time, I've come to notice that whenever a day's planned events do not sound enticing enough, he sighs with disappointment and then prods me to add to the day's activities, even offering a few "helpful suggestions". Say what, kid?!  (If I were to have told my father that our day sounded, well...rather lackluster, and that what we really should be doing is going to the beach and then out for ice cream...well, I would still be lisping from the loss of my two front teeth.)

Nonetheless, this week Ryan had so much fun that not even he could complain about it, since he got to see friends every single day of the week.  :-)  A definite rarity, but let me tell you- there is nothing little Ryan M. loves more than playing with his friends.  A few shots from the week:

Making his first ever gingerbread house at Aunty Suki's park playgroup (which we both partially consumed moments later)...  Should we have preserved it to take home, coo over and admire until Christmas?  (Whoops.)

Rockin' his new haircut...complete with a little flipped up, gelled section of hair in the front.   Gotta keep those ladies happy.

My little baller...he sunk exactly one basket (out of maybe 50).  Good enough for the Asian NBA!

Being a scary 'brown ghost' (or unless they converted without me knowing...wearing a burqa) with his future bride... 

I'm pretty sure I'm going to heaven now

I admit it.  After posting about wanting an air popcorn popper yesterday, I found myself gazing longingly at one today at Macy's.  I've seen it a few times now, and have been casually checking it out.  You know...introducing myself, seeing if we have chemistry together, gauging whether or not we want to spend our Friday nights together, and assessing whether I'm just attracted to the machine's sexy good looks (vs. its true content on the inside).  

What made it so tempting was that it was on sale for only $17.99 (from $30). I had an angel perched on one shoulder sweetly whispering, "You're supposed to be saving money...Christmas isn't about gifts...Baby Jesus wants you to give the money to starving children instead..."  And on the other shoulder sat the little red devil (who sounded a lot like my brother Joey) snarling, "It's only $17.99!  Your husband should be so lucky to get away with getting you such a cheap present!  Other women buy themselves expensive purses! Shoes! Make up! Perfume! You wear 6-year old stretched out underwear with the elastic poking out!  You TOTALLY deserve this popcorn popper!!!  Heck!  You should get THREE!!!"

I figured I'd let fate decide and see whether or not I could use a coupon to get it.  But when I found out the answer was "No" (you can't use Macy's coupons on anything electronic), I heard the little devil chime in again, "Psst!  Isn't microwave popcorn supposed to be harmful?  You're exposing your toddler to all those chemicals?!  If you love your child, you'll totally get the air popper!" 

Guys, if I haven't been abundantly clear about this in the past- I LOVE popcorn.  Back in the day, I used to make my own poor college student/ghetto version of the Hawaiian Hurricane (coconut oil, furikake, arare sprinkled on popcorn) in my studio apartment (which may or may not have had something to do with me gaining like 10 lbs that year) with an air popper I found on clearance at Longs for like $4.99. 

So as I stood in front of that popper, I had plenty of legitimate, selfless reasons to get it- it was on sale, the economy needed stimulating, Rich was so lucky I'm a cheap date, Ryan's delicate little lungs needed protection...

But I didn't get it.  

Not because I'm a martyr who intends to give all the money to the Salvation Army instead (I actually just got educated on how anti-gay their employment record is, and as an HR professional and lover of all gays...I just can't have that*)...but because I really do want to preserve the spirit of Christmas as it was intended- it's not about gifts for yourself.

*I really was going to give some extra $ to the Salvation Army a few days ago, but once I read about their record of discrimination, I gave the $ to the Human Rights Campaign (equality for all!) instead...tee hee.  I swear, I'm not bashing the thousands of hard working, beautiful, kind souls who volunteer to ring bells/collect for the SA, nor am I bashing the compassionate work that they do...  I'm not even saying I won't let my little boy continue to drop some cash into the kettle whenever he sees it (its just not the right time to explain to him why we would stop).  I would just rather support charities that make a more concerted effort to treat everyone on this planet equally- black, white, old, young, disabled, able bodied, sexy, ugly...you get the idea. ;-)

So Merry Christmas to me.  No pretty red and white air popcorn popper, but I'd much rather see my LGBT sisters and brothers get married in my lifetime than pop some corn a few times a month.  And if you're as confused as I am about how buying an air popper became a gay rights issue, join the club (regardless, I highly recommend that you also not buy one so your gay friends can get married too)!

Christmas Wish List 2011

The past couple of years I've created a silly, whimsical (because truthfully, I really do have everything I'd ever dare ask for) online Christmas wish list here.  It's mama's time to dream.  So without further ado...get your pen and paper handy, because here's the list for 2011!

I get to have one totally irrational wish, right? Right.  So I vote for a classy little number that runs around $5,000.  I've already totally convinced myself that owning such a beauty will totally cure me of all insomnia & stress, and possibly even make me thinner and better looking.   

It's my Pretend List, so I can ask for something that I want for my son, right?  I fell in love with this little metal cart (Melissa & Doug toys are the best ever) when I first saw it a few years ago, and am kicking myself not having bought it then.  Shopping carts are the kind of toys that kids play with from the moment they can walk until probably at least 5 years old...one of the few toys that will keep your child entertained beyond a week.  :-)   If I had this, I can totally envision  using it to do our grocery shopping (we do it on occasion with our cheap, flimsy plastic one) and I swear, we would keep it forever.  

I love my new Nike Live Strong shoes, but would prefer them in a slightly more girly color (I have the men's in gray/yellow and feel about 60 years old when I wear them).  But at $160 a pop and my hitting top speeds of only up to 6mph (which doesn't justify buying ANY shoe over $7.99)...soooo not gonna happen until we win the lottery.  Or Lance Armstrong falls in love with me and agrees to share me with Rich and become a Brother Husband.*


*If you don't know what a Brother Husband is, you clearly have not been watching TLC's Sister Wives.  I will try not to judge you.**


**This is hard to do.  It's a fascinating show.

I would love, love, loooove a dwarf avocado tree that yields creamy, buttery avocados for me and all the world's children (I thought adding that last part would make me look more festive and giving).  

A 5 lb. gummy bear - I just saw this a few days ago in my mom's Real Simple magazine, and now I am completely besotted.  Further research (clearly I spend my free time wisely) reveals that it takes about 1,400 gummy bears to make this one giant one, which is the equivalent of 12,000 calories.  So I'm sold!  I'm in!  I'm in!  I'd like a red one please.

There's something about a faux-vintage air popcorn popper that fills me with nostalgia...I can totally see myself pouring melted butter all over it...and then sprinkling a handful of salt on it just to ensure I've clogged my arteries enough to have shaved 6 months off my life.

Even though I won't get a single item, its funny how simply posting them is almost as fun as getting them (which is why I do it every year)!  Because I suppose if I really, truly wanted them, I could always work, save, sacrifice, whine or beg for them...which is why sometimes, it really is more fun to dream. 

Sayonara Ken-kun & Riki-chan!

Keni & Riki left for Japan yesterday, but we made sure to fill their last few days here with Christmas festivities.  On Friday night the three boys got to open their stocking stuffers from my parents.

Instead of stockings (not yet unpacked), Santa used festive plastic bags from Longs Drugs.  

Thank you for the candy canes, Santa!  (Next time, bring him some insulin to go with it.)  

Later that night the boys invited Ryan over for his first sleepover with them (since my poor innocent brother and sister in law still had no idea about how hyper he gets at night when camping with his cousins). They know now though...because Ryan outlasted all of them that night.  Although my brother reported a few tears and sniffles around 11:30pm, Ryan toughed it out and stayed over the whole night!

The next day it was time for the annual Christmas parade!  Though they were all slightly delirious from the late night sleepover the night before, Ryan & his cousins met a few of his friends there early to stake out a spot...look how cute and festive they all look!  [Please feel free to also admire the cute popcorn boxes I ordered from Amazon too!]

It's kinda funny looking at pics of a Christmas parade when everyone is wearing shorts, tank tops and slippers!  :-) 

After the parade, we took the three (wired on parade-candy) boys out for their last spam musubi dinner (for a very long time)!

Of course we had to get a few silly photos in...

It's just how we roll.

The next morning we got up early to host a goodbye breakfast for the boys (per Mika's instructions- oil-free for reduced vomiting on the flight).  The poor girl has two boys who despite flying internationally quite regularly- suffer from motion sickness.  :-)

Right after they left for the airport, we hit Macy's so Rich could get a few things he needed.

Ryan got bored waiting for daddy so he found a fun place to hang out and have a snack.

After returning home for our annual pre-Christmas cleaning throughout our cluttered home, I did a quick Sunday long run (though not so long this weekend, only 11 miles) and met the boys at the pool before baking five batches of banana bread.  This is only about a third of what we baked!

Mama's about to collapse

Stop the holiday train...I'm about to fall over.  This has been one of the busiest weeks ever, but I'm not complaining, because I wouldn't trade it for anything.  Not even for more sleep.  (Okay, maybe for more sleep...)  The day started with an early morning ride on a school bus with Ryan's preschool (if you've never done this, I recommend ear plugs and a Valium), a trip to the Mauna Lani Bay Hotel to see the Festival of Trees, Santa and some sharks, turtles and giant ulua, an unplanned stop at The Shops at Mauna Lani to let Ryan frolic around in the water fountain, a picnic lunch, and finally, a stop at the Hilton Waikoloa to ride Ryan's beloved trains.  After a stop at home so Ry could nap, Rich coached student-driver Ryan (Geico has already dropped him after 3 days of coverage), while I squeezed in a 10-mile run before all meeting at the park at dusk so Ryan could pump his little legs on his tricycle for half an hour (and give us both mild heart attacks wildly careening around near precipitous drop offs).

A few pics of the day that aged me...

Ryan's first time on a school bus!

Still half asleep from being woken up literally five minutes before this pic was taken...but ready to roll and as always....ready to follow the rules.  After being told by the driver to not move from his seat or to eat anything while riding, he shrunk back in horror and scolded me with a, "No, mommy...no!" when he saw the apple slices in my bag.  I assured him the bus driver said it was okay (hope Santa wasn't listening to that one) since they weren't messy.  Mother of the Year!

My favorite tree of the day...and the only truly Hawaiian-looking Christmas tree of the bunch!  Aloha au ia oe!  

My other favorite not-so-Hawaiian Christmas tree...bright pink and covered in candy and cupcakes!

Santa looked very hot.  He had a fan blowing on him.  That makes two of us who could use a fan on us all day, big man.

Checking out the koi at the hotel, greedily and hungrily surrounding Ryan and as he put it- "They want my candy cane, mommy!"

The best part of the day- encouraging a hesitant Ryan to get wet in his street clothes and then watching him go NUTS.

I'm pretty sure this part of the fountain isn't part of the designated 'splash area' (I got this impression from the "No swimming" sign posted off to the left, but perhaps I read this wrong).  So because that sign was obviously very vague and confusing...I let him be.  He was having too much fun.  (Mother of the Year award again!)

See what I mean?  Is this not hysterical?!

Getting ready to ride the rails at the Hilton Waikoloa with Grandma while mommy parks the car four hundred million yards away in the free parking lot (do not judge me...it's $15 otherwise).

Laughing at life (& Ryan)

I've been wanting to make banana breads for weeks...so a few days ago, three bunches (this is only two of them) ripened all at at the same time.  Haven't had much success finding a recipe that calls for 200 ripe bananas.  ???

Whee!!!  Lovin' the new wheels from Uncle Jon, Aunty Mika & Aunty Kathy!

The Three Musketeers!

The boys self-proclaimed "parade" (all three rode in circles and waved).  I called it "bumper cars" since Ryan kept crashing into everybody.  Let's just say the car has already suffered a number casualties already, and that it would be very wise for us to get a very low deductible.