The Silent "I"

Great Northern Adventure: Steinbach, Manitoba, Canada

This is Part 3 of a series on our Great Northern Adventure 2002, in which we take a circuitous route to visit some polar bears in Canada.

November 5-6, 2002

After our exciting jaunt into North Dakota, we drove northeast to Steinbach, Manitoba.  Frank’s  ancestors were Mennonites, so Frank has always been interested in Mennonite history and settlements.  There is a large Mennonite population in Manitoba, and most of it appears to be centered in Steinbach. 

As we drove in, Frank noticed the car dealerships had the names like those of his ancestors, like Friesen and Penner, which thrilled him to no end.  I guess that gave the place an air of familiarity to him, but I was unimpressed.  I suppose I would have felt differently if they had names like “Choi” or “Kim." 

We found our way to the Frantz Motor Inn, which Frank had reserved in honor of his late Grandmother Tena Franz.  “Probably some distant relation,” he mused. 

The place had a creepy, “Twin Peaks” sort of atmosphere, with blood red carpet, beat up walls and dim naked lightbulbs swinging overhead.  There was something unsettling about the experience, like we might see a ghost wearing a polyester leisure suit or possibly see “Crime Scene” or "Biohazard" tape around one of the doors.  It may be somewhat telling that I can only describe these places in terms of old television shows—they seemed to be stuck in time, and in this case it looked like the place had not been redecorated for about 30 years. Our room was actually much nicer than the hallway led us to believe it would be.

We ate dinner in the motel’s restaurant, The Brass Lantern.  It was unremarkable except for the fact that the portions were huge and served on what might have been used as a turkey platter instead of a plate. It was just what we needed, more big bland food.  Alexander’s chicken nuggets were about the size of his 95% percentile toddler head.  We retired to our room and watched the results of the U.S. elections.  The Republicans appeared to be making significant gains in both the House and Senate.  We went to sleep depressed.

How I Became A Mother

The MOMocrats are helping spread the word about the Mothers Day Every Day Project, part of the White Ribbon Alliance's efforts to raise awareness of maternal death worldwide.  Over 500,000 women die in pregnancy and childbirth each year, due to lack of necessities like clean water and basic medical care. To honor this effort, we are sharing our birth and adoption stories.  Here's the story of how I became a mom.  Please share your story on your blog and leave a comment over at MOMocrats and we'll link to your post on Sunday, in honor of Mother's Day.

I've written before about my feelings about being the mom of a boy, with some trepidation, but ultimately, much joy. My pregnancy was uneventful.  I had some morning sickness, but nothing debilitating.  I never had to go on bedrest, or worry that anything was wrong. All the worries I had were of my own making.

I delivered Alex by scheduled c-section, probably the least dramatic birth method every invented.  I went in for a routine prenatal visit at 38 weeks, and had an ultrasound. 

"Oh, my!" the ultrasound technician exclaimed.

"Is that a good 'oh, my' or a bad 'oh, my'?" I asked.

"Well, your baby is measuring a bit um,...large," she said.

"How large is large?" I asked.

"He's looking like about 10 pounds," she paused dramatically.  "Plus or minus 15%. I think you should discuss this with the doctor."

I could handle the "minus 15%", but giving birth to an 11 and a half pound baby was not exactly something I was prepared for.

How Not to Grow Hydroponic Herbs

My friends over at the Parent Bloggers Network offered some educational toys to try out for the 8-12 year old set, and since Alex is almost 8, I volunteered.  We received a Hydro Greenhouse from the Discovery Channel in short order, and from the day it arrived, Alex could not wait to open it up and start growing vegetables.  He had visions of growing miniature tomato plants or carrots or maybe a ginormous mutant pumpkin like the ones we'd seen at the Alaska State Fair one year. 

One day, as I was busy in the kitchen, Alex decided to take it upon himself to start growing his giant vegetables.  He pulled out the box and and dumped all the chalky white "growing medium" and everything he could find in the box into the plastic basin.  He yelled at me when he finished this.  I walked in to find "growing medium" all over my oriental rug,  on his clothes and in his hair, as though he'd decided to roll himself in breadcrumbs to get ready to be deep-fried.

"What are you doing?" I demanded.

"I'm starting my garden," he said proudly.  "Only, I don't know where the seeds are." 

I sat down and started scooping up growing medium off the floor and putting it into the terrerium basin.  I picked up the instruction booklet and looked it over, and read "Seeds not included."

"We have to buy seeds.  Did you read the instructions?"

"No.  Too many words.  I just figured it out myself," he replied sheepishly.

"You know, before you begin a project like this, it's a good idea to read the instruction booklet."  I said, imparting what I thought was an important life lesson.  He shrugged, with an insouciant look on his face that just said, "Whatever."

We cleaned up the mess and put the thing away until we could buy some seeds.

A few weeks passed, and my parents came for a visit.  The Hydro Greenhouse sat on a shelf in the dining room.  My mom asked what it was, and Alex proudly told her it was his garden.  She gave me a look that said, "poor, pathetic city child has a bowl with no dirt in it and thinks it's a garden."

He told her nothing was growing because we didn't have seeds.  She suggested that maybe we go buy some seeds.  She's quick, my mother.

A trip to the hardware store, and we had 2 packs of parsley and basil seeds.  I didn't think the little terrerium was big enough to grow a giant eggplant, but basil is one of the ingredients in Alex's favorite pasta dish, so we opted for herbs instead.  Alex and my mom busily set out to plant the seeds.

After about a half hour, they yelled for me to come and figure out how to put the plastic cover over the plants and insert the water bottle upside down into the hole.  They had planted a couple of rows of seeds, basil on one side, parsley on the other.  I managed to wrangle the plastic cover on, and we set it on the kitchen windowsill to wait for our herb garden to grow.

Marriage and The Vortex of Doom

Our family took a short cruise up the Sea of Cortez in Mexico in January, just before school resumed.  It was a wonderful nature cruise that offered up-close glimpses of wildlife, hiking, snorkeling, and sea kayaking. 

I'm not a person who enjoys water.  I can tread water, but going out in deep water causes me to panic, due to some early childhood trauma involving my dad throwing me in a lake in an attempt to teach me using the old "sink or swim method."  I sank.  Like a rock wearing a toolbelt.  I don't like inhaling saltwater, so snorkeling has never held much appeal to me either.

Frank and Alex, on the other hand, are like a couple of friendly, inquisitive sea mammals and would rather snorkel than walk on land any day.  I was feeling a little left behind sitting on the beach with my People magazine, and so when the opportunity to kayak came along, I decided to "feel the fear and do it anyway."  I trusted that my husband would save me if we tipped over, and felt pretty sure that I wouldn't drown with the industrial-strength inflatable life vest I had strapped on my chest.

Neither Frank or I had ever been sea kayaking before this trip. Alex was happily building sandcastles with a half dozen or so other kids from our boat, and one of the other moms agreed to keep an eye on him.  So, we squeezed ourselves into a 2-person kayak and paddled out to sea.

We made it out of the protected lagoon with ease, gliding on top of the water as sea birds swooped down to feed on fish swimming near the surface.  It was beautiful and calm, with a light breeze making ripples in the water.  We could see other kayakers out in ocean, paddling along with no problem.  There was something very serene about gliding along on top of the azur water, surrounding by ocean and craggy mountain peaks.  Though we could see other people in the distance, the two of us were alone in our little boat, calmly paddling out to sea to face the unknown.

Obama in San Francisco

I had the privilege of attending a fundraiser for Barack Obama in San Francisco on Sunday night, and came away with a renewed feeling of optimism and hope that this man could be our next President.  I was on the fence between Hillary and Barack for a long time, after the crushing blow of John Edwards' withdrawal from the race.  I now know that if Barack wins the nomination, he will go all the way.

Frank, Alex and I drove up to a gorgeous home in San Francisco, and were met with a long line of well-dressed Northern Californians who were all excited to meet Obama.  We met our hosts at the door, a real estate developer and his lovely wife.  There were about 300 people in attendance, all crowded into the downstairs living room, dining room, and foyer, munching on appetizers and drinking wine. 

When Obama's motorcade (actually, two giant champagne-colored Suburbans) arrived, we all had to squeeze together and back up to make way for him to come through the crowd without freaking out the Secret Service.  My son, Alex, met a 9 year old girl at the event and the two of them weaseled their way up to the front to position themselves at the bottom of the staircase that Obama was use to make his entrance. The Secret Service stoically stood by, eyeing the crowd and talking into their sleeves from time to time, and the crowd was calm, but excited.

My Korean Mom, The Sitcom: Easter Redux

Mom: Guess what?  I'm in a play for Easter.
Me:  Again? Are you dancing and falling on the ground this year?
Mom:  What? No, not that.  I'm playing an angel.  You believe that?
Me: So you're playing against type?
Mom:  What is that supposed to mean?
Me:  Never mind.  What's the play about?
Mom: Well, there's these two groups, and people have to decide.  You go with one group, and you go to Jesus.  You go with the other group, you go to the Devil.  One group drinks and does drugs and has a good old time, and the other group, you know, does nice things.

Teaching Compassion

Alex was watching the "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles" movie while I was cooking dinner last night.  A commercial came on for a program to help kids in third world countries.  It featured a story of a family with several children, one of whom sometimes opts to go hungry so his little brother can have food.  Normally, Alex doesn't watch commercials, since the magic that is Tivo allows us to fast forward through all those sugary cereals and Bratz dolls ads.  This time, he watched this commercial intently, and ran in to tell me about it.

"Mom! There are kids who don't have food or parents! They don't have schools or medicine!  I need to help them!"  he said.

I asked him if he got the number or the website.  He went back and got his dad to back up the Tivo so he could write down the number.  The next thing I knew, he was on the phone.

"Hello?  I'm calling to help the poor children.  How much does it cost?"  he said.  "Well, my dad is here and he has the money."  My husband got on the phone and found out that the group is called Plan USA, and for $24 a month, you can sponsor a child in a third world country.  They send letters and updates from the kids periodically.  They asked what country we wanted the child to be from, and Alex thought about it.  "Egypt," he said.  He wanted to sponsor a boy from Egypt.

Alex got back on the phone to ask a question.  "When will he be coming to our house?" he said.  They explained that he would not be coming to our house, but we could go visit him.  Alex loved Egypt, so I think he now wants to go back.

Frank hung up the phone and we realized that we knew absolutely nothing about this group or what they did, so we Googled them.  We found a blog post on Mortaine's Blog from a woman who has sponsored several children through Plan USA for 15 years.  It was very reassuring.  I wrote a comment, and she e-mailed me that she was about Alex's age when she first saw the ads for Plan USA and decided to help.  It was one of the best things she has ever done, she said.  After reading her post, we all got very excited about the prospect of hearing about the child.

Over dinner, we talked about what sponsoring this boy meant.  Alex said, "I want to help the poor people not be poor.  Maybe he will find a family, if he's an orphan.  Maybe he'll get medicine if he's sick."

We talked about a boy we met two years ago visiting the Great Sphinx at Giza.  He wore ragged clothes, and the soles of his shoes were barely hanging on.   His smudged little face was streaked with tears, and his older brother was yelling at him.  He was about 7, the age Alex is now.  He was not in school, even though it was a weekday.  He was selling old postcards to tourists for change.  We bought his postcards, and he smiled.  Alex called him his friend.  When they parted, Alex said, "Don't be sad, I love you."  I'm pretty sure the boy did not speak English, but it didn't matter. 

Alex remembered him when I brought it up, though vaguely, and was happy that he was now going to help a child like his postcard seller friend. 

People have often asked us why we have traveled so much with Alex.  The reasons are partly selfish (we love traveling), and partly because we want to educate him that not everyone in the world has the advantages that he has.  Some people have more, but many, many people have less.  Giving him the sense that he can make a difference is a harder lesson, but somehow, I think he's learned it.

My Funny Valentine

Last year, my husband got a mention in the Atlantic Monthly in their Word Fugitives column seeking a word for men who give over-the-top gifts to their wives.  It stared with the 10 bouquets for 10 Years for our 10th Anniversary.  This year, it was the dinner-and-a-spa for our eleventh.  He's such a romantic, that guy.

On the morning of Valentine's Day this year, as I was hurrying out the door, he said, "You might get a delivery at your office!"

I thought it was sweet that he remembered, and figured it would be some flowers, which would be nice. We got engaged on Valentine's Day 1996, and every year, he has remembered with flowers and dinner.

As far as I was concerned, he had already given me the best Valentine's day present of all time.  He was there with the refrigerator repairman, and the two of them had pulled back the fridge to discover ten years of dirt build-up under the fridge.  He got out a mop and started cleaning it.  I don't think I've ever seen him with a mop in his hand before, and the fact that he didn't just hand it to me was, as the kids say, hot.

I went off to work as he was mopping away.  I was sitting in our usual weekly staff meeting, when the receptionist came in and said, "Glennia, you have a delivery..."

I sort of wondered why she didn't just leave it on my desk instead of interrupting the meeting, when four people trooped in behind her.  There were three men in white tuxedos and a woman in a red dress.  One of the men said, "Who is Glennia?"

My coworkers pointed to me, and they lined up behind me.  One of the men whipped out a pitch pipe and the four sang something like, "I Love You and Only You" in perfect, four-part harmony.  I was stunned, to say the least, and couldn't help but giggle.

They finished their song, and handed me a card and a rose, saying this was from Frank.  Then, they sang, "Let Me Call You Sweetheart."  It was all so sweet and heart-felt I wanted to cry.  The group is called "A Rose Among Thorns" and are part of the Peninsulaires singing group. They are the first co-ed barbershop quartet I've ever seen. 

Later that day, two dozen red and peach roses arrived at my office.   My coworkers were duly impressed.

Still, I can't get over the mop.  That man really knows a way into a woman's heart, and how to keep it as well.

2007 Annual Report

Since we've been together, Frank and I have sent out an annual report with our Christmas card.  This year, in order to be a little more green, we are putting this on-line.  For those of you visiting this blog for the first time, Welcome!  For my regular readers, sorry if this is old news!  For you lucky people getting this printed on a piece of paper, you'll have the joy of something to hold in your hand, but all the clickable links won't work. ;-)

The biggest news is that, in spite of Glennia continuing full time in her job, she is now a committed blogger. She writes here (www.thesilenti/com) and as a contributor to several group blogs as well: Silicon Valley Moms Blog, Kimchi Mamas, and Moms Speak Up.  In October, she and two friends launched MOMocrats, a political blog supporting John Edwards' bid for the presidency and progressive politicis in general.  The blog has become popular very quickly, and was quoted in the New York Times political blog, among other media outlets.  A highlight of her blogging career came in July when she attended the BlogHer Conference in Chicago.  She had her first print article appear in Koream Journal, based on one of her blog posts about her mom becoming a US citizen.  Check out all the other blogs when you have a chance.

For those of you wondering what happened to us last year, we apologize for not sending out a Christmas card or letter.  We lost Frank's Dad, Jim, right before the holidays last year, and it really took wind out of our sails. There were many details to tend to, and writing our normal holiday letter fell down to the bottom of the list.  We feel Jim's loss every day, and miss his gentle smile and wise counsel.  It was a heavy blow to the family and all who knew and loved this very special man.

As the new year has unfolded, we have resumed our usual slate of family travels. Our biggest trip of the year was to Greenland. It was a special place to mark Frank's 100th "country", and marked Alexander's first trip north of the Arctic Circle. We drifted among fantastic glaciers and icebergs, bathed in the glow of the midnight sun, and saw whales, both in the sea and on the menu. Alexander lost his 2 front teeth and discovered that the Tooth Fairy still delivers in the far North, and that she pays in local currency. We also took a ship along the towns villages of western Greenland, and took a long range helicopter flight over the ice cap (covered with many dark blue melting pools).

In Southern Greenland, we had the chance to explore Viking ruins over 1000 years old, and several other beautiful mountainous fjords as well. Even though parts of Greenland are cold, we were greeted warmly by the Greenlandic people, and had a wonderful time.

Our travels began in February, with a trip to our Hawaiian timeshare on Kauai, with Grandma Chris in along too to get a break from the Indiana winter.  We feasted at a traditional luau, and took a spectacular helicopter trip of the island, which didn't go over so well with Alex.  We enjoyed the time together, and seeing our old friends the Forbes.

Other family trips have been to Washington DC, to protest the Iraq war with Frank's cousin Franz in March; to Michigan on the sad occasion of the funeral of Frank's Uncle Bob, to Ohio and Indiana for Alexander's 7th Birthday with Grandpa June, both Grandmas Jeanie and Chris, and Great Grandma Lois;  Austin, Texas for a visit with Glennia's brothers; along the California coast for a wedding of Frank's friend Matthew, and to the red rock country of Capitol Reef in Utah for a wedding of Glennia's friend Gail.

Frank has also earned his share of frequent flyer miles with business travel on various trips for meetings and conferences around the US, and to Puerto Rico, Korea, Japan and China. He is well recognized and a sought-after speaker in his field. Unfortunately, with school and work, it's not possible for Alexander and Glennia to come along on these trips now. We will, however, all be able to go together to watch whales in Baja California for a week after New Years.

Alex had a summer of various fun camps and 2 weeks at "Camp Grandma" with his Campbell grandparents in Ohio along with his cousin, Nico.  He returned to a big birthday party at home with friends from the neighborhood and his classmates from school.  Then, he entered 2nd grade, and the weekly homework has been a bit of a shock. He balances the books with soccer, Kung Fu and Cub Scouts.  He also keeps busy taking chess lessons and Spanish after school.

So, that's about it from us. We hope this new format works for you and saves a few trees; please keep in touch by e-mailing us, or just by adding comments to one of Glennia's blog postings.

Happy Holidays to all of you, old friends and new.  We wish you good health, happiness, and peace, wherever your travels may take you.

Frank, Glennia, and Alexander

Santa Arrives by Helicopter

We went to see Santa arrive last weekend, only this time with a twist.  Instead of arriving by reindeer-drawn sleigh, Santa came to San Carlos by helicopter.  He landed right outside the Hiller Aviation Museum.  We watched him circle the museum before landing.

We were standing on a view platform as he touched down.  Wonder if he was wearing a seatbelt.

He was greeted by Mrs. Claus, the Vice Mayor of San Carlos, and a very big, enthusiastic crowd.

We waited for nearly an hour in line to see the MAN, but Alex was glad to have his turn.  Note that Santa and the Mrs. are seated in airplane seats.

Afterwards, Santa pulled Frank aside and said, "What's a Wii?  All the kids keep asking for it, but I have no idea what that is."

Frank explained it to him, so hopefully, Santa will stock up or make a deal with Nintendo before Christmas rolls around.