Harmony

"I'd like to teach the world to sing in perfect harmony."

The New Seekers - I'd Like To Teach The World To Sing

*****

I think Christmas has a special magic about it.   I don't mean Santa magic, flying reindeer or snowmen who come to life.  What I'm talking about is the kind of magic that happens when people put aside their disagreements and differences for a while and decide to be kind and understanding toward each other.   I've seen it happening everywhere during the last several days.   it's wonderful, and I've particularly appreciated how it's been working in my own family.   I wish everyone could keep this special magic alive every day of the year. 

As you all know, my mother and I don't have a consistently pleasant relationship.  I care about her and I do my best not to lose patience with her, but she can be an extremely difficult person to get along with sometimes.  Her unfriendly attitude toward Sini and Pax hasn't helped smooth the way to our happiness either.  I've often felt like she hasn't really been making an effort to understand them and my relationship with each of them.   It's especially hard for me to be caught between my mother and my wife because I love them both.   One of my greatest wishes is that Sini and my mother could learn to get along, and that Mum would start treating Pax less like a nuisance and more like her grandson.

I'd like to tell you that I think my wish began to come true this week.

Remember, I mentioned Mum let Pax help her make cookies on Monday and that she let him decorate them on Christmas Eve?   That was major progress as far as I was concerned, but what happened on the day after Christmas was what really gave me hope that things are going to improve.

I thought the cookies were going to be for everyone in our family to enjoy, but they were not.  Mum's plan for these particular holiday treats was far more generous and community-minded.    Her plan was to distribute them to seniors.

Giving cookies to seniors is something Sapphire does all the time, so the concept wasn't foreign to me.  I've helped Sapphire with her cookie projects before and I have to say that I really like it.  The big surprise for me this week wasn't the actual idea of bringing treats to older people, but rather the fact that my mother, Julia Brightman, was the one who'd decided to do it.   I mean, 'charity' isn't a word that immediately springs to mind when I think of Mum. 

Needless to say, I was pleased with Mum's cookie-distributing scheme.  I offered to go into town with her to help pass around treats to the residents of the local seniors' home.   She said I was definitely welcome to join her and then she said she'd like Pax to come too, since he'd been such a big help with the baking and decorating. 

The cool thing about Pax being an empath is that he can tell if someone is being sincere or not.   Judging by his reaction when Mum asked him if he'd like to come with us to hand out cookies, she must've been absolutely sincere.   He started chirping and then ran off to find his coat, shouting, "Don't leave without me, Grandmonster!"  as he left the room.

Pax was a big hit at the seniors' home.   The old folks loved him and made a big fuss over him.  A few people gave him candy and one sweet old lady promised to knit him a scarf "in rainbow colours to match his unusual hair."   I'd brought my guitar along and, even though it was the day after Christmas, we sang some Christmas songs for the seniors who'd gathered in the common room..    The residents of the home thought Pax was a great performer, and a few of them asked who had taught him to sing.   He said that almost everyone can sing where he comes from, and that he thinks his people are born with the talent.  One gentleman commented that he didn't know about the rest of Pax's people, but that he figured Pax must've been born with a gift for music.  I agree with that.  Pax is very talented indeed.

Once we'd exhausted our - or rather Pax's - repertoire of holiday songs and random songs from children's TV shows, I thought we'd say our goodbyes and head for home.  My mother, as it turns out, had one more item on the program.

"Tyler, do you mind if I borrow your guitar?" she said.

"Sure, if you want," I said.  "Why?"

"You'll see," she said, as I passed it to her.

A moment later, I heard her strumming experimentally.  She said, "Pax, can you do the song you learned the other day?"

"I like that song," Pax said.  "I do it really good."

"Really well," Mum said.

"You sing with me too?"

"Of course.  Are you ready?"

"Ready!" Pax said.

Then, with my mother accompanying them on the guitar, she and Pax began to sing the song she'd taught him.   I hadn't known she was teaching him anything beyond how to bake, and I concluded that they must've worked on this little surprise on Christmas Eve when Dad and I had been out tending to the neighbour's horses.

Listening to the song my mother had chosen to teach Pax, I couldn't help smiling.

I'd like to build the world a home
And furnish it with love
Grow apple trees and honey bees
And snow white turtle doves
 
I'd like to teach the world to sing
In perfect harmony
I'd like to hold it in my arms
And keep it company
 
I'd like to see the world for once
All standing hand in hand
And hear them echo through the hills
For peace throughout the land
 
That's the song I hear
Let the world sing today
A song of peace
That echoes on
And never goes away

I'd like to teach the world to sing
In perfect harmony
I'd like to hold it in my arms
And keep it company

I'm optimistic that this is symbolic of a warm relationship to come between Pax and my mother.   Maybe she's starting to see that he's a person just like she is, even if he happens to be from a different place and has a different skin colour.   If Mum can recognize Pax's and Sini's humanity, perhaps we can all be a proper family.  More than anything, I want that.   

While I'm on the topic of family, another thing happened to me this week that's helped renew my faith in humankind, and it's something I really want to share with all of you.  I'm sure you guys recall me telling you about my Grandpa Mike, right?   He's my mother's father, and my brother Michael is his namesake.  Until a couple of days ago, I wasn't entirely sure Grandpa Mike even knew my name, because he'd never addressed me by it before.  Usually, he just refers to me as 'boy'.

Anyway, we all spent most of Christmas day with my father's parents, Grandpa Jim and Granny Alice, so in the evening on Christmas day Mum decreed that we all had to go over to Grandpa Mike's house for a visit.   Since Nanna Seraphine passed away five years ago, Grandpa Mike has been spending Christmases with Aunt Jane and her family.  This year, however, Aunt Jane, Uncle Steve and my cousins are on a family vacation in Florida, so Grandpa Mike invited my unmarried Aunt Jenny to come and spend the holidays with him.   I did not want to go to Grandpa Mike's house, nor did Sini.   Pax is terrified of Grandpa Mike and, if Skyla's fits of crying whenever she's in the same room with him are any indication, I think she's scared of him too.   This was not a situation that filled us with joy, but in the spirit of the season we agreed to go.

After all was said and done, I'm glad we did.

The visit started off pretty much as I'd predicted. Aunt Jenny offered us drinks which Dad, Sini and I all declined and which Sini and I had to decline strenuously on Pax's behalf.  Pax pouted for a while, but he cheered up when the obligatory fruitcake was passed around.   Sini loves fruitcake and, to no one's surprise, Pax does too.   I don't like fruitcake but I took a slice anyway, just to be polite, since I'd declined Aunt Jenny's mulled wine.

We all sat in the living room and tried to make small talk, which didn't go well.   Mum and Aunt Jenny were fine of course, chatting about everything and nothing the way sisters always seem to do, but the rest of us were struggling to come up with something to say to each other.   Grandpa Mike wanted to know if we'd had Christmas dinner at "Old Doc Brightman's place."  I'm pretty sure he doesn't know Grandpa Jim's given name but, then again, probably half the people in the county don't.   Grandpa Jim was just Doc Brightman for years until my dad joined him in his veterinary practice, after which he became Old Doc Brightman (because my dad is Young Doc Brightman, naturally).  Grandpa Jim is retired now, and most of Dad's contemporaries know Dad's name is James, but some of the older farmers still refer to them as Old Doc and Young Doc. 

Dad and Grandpa Mike talked about horses but, since that's not Grandpa Mike's area of expertise, the exchange didn't last long.  They switched the topic to the local cattle show, this fall's apple crop, and finally the weather, all without any apparent enthusiasm. Aunt Jenny asked me how school was going and she asked Sini about the baby.  Sini didn't seem inclined to talk to Aunt Jenny, but she answered all her questions politely and told her that the baby will be born sometime in February.   Aunt Jenny seemed interested in the fact that our baby is going to be born at home and wanted to know if Skyla had been born at home as well, and asked for far more detail than Sini was willing to share. 

After a while, all the conversations in the room died away and we were left with a strange and uncomfortable silence.  A minute or so passed, and Mum and Aunt Jenny left the room to refill their wineglasses.   Skyla, who had wandered away from Sini and me, started whimpering on the other side of the room.   Dad determined that Skyla needed to be changed, so he gathered her up and left the room, too.    That left Sini, Pax and me with Grandpa Mike.    I started to feel nervous. 

Following another tense minute during which nobody said anything, Grandpa Mike ventured, "There's something I want to show you upstairs."

I wasn't sure if he was addressing one of us in particular or all of us in general, so I didn't reply to him.  I would've felt stupid asking, Who me?  

Sini must've sensed my uncertainty.  She reached for my hand and gave it a little squeeze.  To Grandpa Mike she said, "Are you speaking to my husband?"

"Yeah, of course I'm speaking to him," Grandpa Mike said. "I'm looking right at him."

"He cannot see you looking at him," she said quietly. "If you want his attention, it is best to use his name.   It is Tyler, in case you may not recall."

I cringed at that, fully expecting my grandfather to make a mean or sarcastic retort.  To my astonishment, what he said was, "Sorry.   You want to come upstairs for a minute, Tyler?"

It took me a moment or two to process that.  It was the first time in my entire life that I'd ever heard my name pass my grandfather's lips, and to say that I was seriously caught off guard wouldn't be an exaggeration.   Somehow I managed, "Uh...sure.  Can Sini come up, too?"

"Yeah."

"I not going," Pax said flatly.

"It is okay," Sini told him.  "You can stay down here.  Grandpa and Skyla should be back very soon."

Pax seemed fine with that, so we left him in the living room.  Sini and I held hands as we followed Grandpa Mike upstairs. I've been in his house numerous times, but I can't recall ever having gone upstairs before.   I had no idea where I was going and I was really glad Sini was with me.

As we reached the top of the stairs she whispered. "Is this one of those times when we should expect the unexpected?"

"Yeah, I think so," I whispered back.

Just then, I had no way of knowing how accurate that statement was and how very unexpectedly events were about to unfold.

My grandfather apparently didn't hear our comments or, if he did, he chose not to remark on them.  He led us into his bedroom and told us that we might as well sit on the bed because there was only one chair and it was barely big enough for one skinny person.  Sini guided me over to the bed and we both sat down. 

I could hear Grandpa Mike rummaging around in a box or trunk or something.   When he found what he'd been looking for, he came over to us and placed the object on my lap.  "Here," he said. "This is for you."

It was wrapped in crinkly tissue paper.   Sini helped me unwrap it and then I set to work examining it. 

"It's a quilt," i said.

"It is beautiful," said Sini.

"It's handmade," Grandpa Mike said.  "It was your mother's baby quilt, Tyler."  

"Really?" I said.  "Who made it?"

"Your grandmother."

"Nanna Seraphine?  I didn't know she could sew."

Grandpa Mike laughed. "As far as I know, Seraphine only ever made three quilts in her entire life.  One for your mother, one for Jane and one for Jenny.   None of them were much good, according to her.  I think she gave up sewing entirely after Jenny was born."  

"Oh," I said.

"It's a funny thing about how that quilt turned up," Grandpa Mike said.  "Me and Jenny were up in the attic looking for Christmas stuff, and she found some boxes of your grandmother's things.   That quilt was in one of them.   Since you've got a baby on the way, I thought you and your girl might like to have it."

"My name is Sini," Sini said, "and I am Tyler's wife." 

"Sini," he repeated. "Don't know how I'm going to remember that."

"Remembering that I am Tyler's wife will be sufficient," she told him.  

"I'm glad he's got himself a wife, even if you are from some strange foreign country.   Never thought anyone would want to marry him, you know, with all his problems and everything.   For once, I'm glad to be wrong."  

"Thank you," she said, not ungraciously.

"Anyway, I figured maybe you and Tyler would want the quilt for the baby." 

"Thank you," Sini said again.

"That's...really nice, Grandpa Mike," I said. "Thanks."

"Your Nanna would've wanted you to have it," he said. "You always were her favourite grandkid."

"I miss her."

"Me too," said my grandfather, and his voice was softer and more gentle than I'd ever heard it before.  "I might not have done right by her all the time, but I loved her, you know.   Loved her more than I've ever loved anybody."

"She loved you," I said.  "She used to say so all the time."

"I wish she could've seen her great-grandchildren," he said.

"Me too."

"I keep thinking about that.   Me and Old Doc and Alice, we're pretty lucky.  If we all make it till February, we'll have five great-grandchildren.  Well...six, if you count that foreign boy, I guess. Seraphine never got to see even one of them before she went.  She would've been so proud of them."

"Remember how Nanna used to talk about angels?" I said.  "She used to say that when a really good person passes on, they go to Heaven and become an angel, and they can look down and see all the people they love."

"Did you ever believe that?" Grandpa Mike asked.

"I don't know," I said. "I think Nanna believed it, though."

"I think she did, too."

"If it is true, maybe Nanna is watching us now.   I think she'd be glad to see us talking like this."

"Yeah," my grandfather said, and then he fell silent.

I stroked the edge of the quilt and thought about my grandmother.   She was a smart lady and always gave me good advice.   One thing she always used to say was that I needed to be patient with Grandpa Mike.  Usually, she'd offer me that particular pearl of wisdom after he'd said something to me that would hurt my feelings or make me angry which, as you might've guessed, used to happen a lot.   Nanna would bring me into the kitchen, and she'd wipe away my tears if I needed it, and then she'd say something like, "Tyler, darling, you've got to have forbearance with your Grandpa.  You might not think he cares, but he does. One day, you'll see."  I never really grasped what she was trying to tell me when she said that, but on Christmas day this year I finally did.  Twenty-four years of long-suffering and, at last, I see that there's a  man capable of affection beneath Grandpa Mike's abrasive exterior.

I didn't even realize I'd been crying until Sini touched my face and said softly, "Are you all right?"

"Just thinking."

"About your grandmother?"

"Yeah," I said.  I turned in the direction from which I'd last heard my grandfather's voice.  "About you too, Grandpa Mike.  Nanna always said there were things I wouldn't understand until I grew up.   I think I figured out one of them."

"What is it?" he asked.  He took a step forward and pressed a piece of cloth into my hand.  I realized it was a handkerchief when he added, "Here.  You might need this."

"People are full of surprises," I said.

"By people, you mean me," said my grandfather, who had evidently experienced a sudden change of mind about letting me dry my own face.  He reclaimed the handkerchief and carefully but awkwardly patted each of my cheeks with it.

"Nanna said I should be patient with you.  She said someday I'd see who you really are."

"She used to say the same thing to me about you," he said.  "She'd say, 'There's a lot more to that boy than you think, Michael.'  Damned if she wasn't right."

I smiled. "I'm glad you're seeing what I'm seeing."

"I guess all of this should've happened before now, shouldn't it?"

"It happens when it happens, Grandpa Mike," I said. "Let's just be happy it did."

"That sounds like something she would say," he said, and placed the handkerchief in my hand once more. "You've got her eyes, you know.  Your grandmother's.  Wise eyes, and blue like the sky on a winter afternoon."

"I wish I could've seen her.  I always imagined she looked as kind as she was."

"She did.  It was the way she smiled that really did it," he said.   "You have her smile, too.  I always used to think of it as a smile that came from the inside and worked its way out."

"I like that," I said.

"She liked it, too.  Said I had a poetic soul, if you can imagine that.  Me, with a poetic soul."

"She knew you better than anyone."

"Yeah, she did," he agreed.

"I want us to get to know each other," I said.  "The real us.   I'm sorry I never wanted to before, but I...I think we need to, now.  It's important for both of us.  I want you to know Sini and our children."

For a few seconds he didn't respond, but then he said very quietly, "I'd like that."

I can say honestly that I'm going to treasure our special quilt from Grandpa Mike and Nanna Seraphine but, even more than that, I'm going to cherish the memory of how the best present I got wasn't something tangible at all.   The best of the gifts I received this year is harmony.  I've seen myself and my family discover that although each one of us is different, we can still fit in together.   Together, we can be something more amazing and beautiful and strong than any one of us could ever be on our own. 

I'll Be Home For Christmas

I meant to tell you guys about our Christmas plans sooner than this.   In fact, I actually meant to tell you about our adventures in Christmas decorating and a few other things as well.  Exams and Christmas shopping and Sini's sock drama kind of put me off track, and I haven't managed to get around to it until now.   Anyway, it's Christmas Eve and there's still one more sleep left before the big day, so let me take the opportunity to fill everyone in.

I decided to go to my parents' house for Christmas.  Back in the fall, Dad invited all of us to come home for the holidays, but I wasn't keen on the idea, especially since Mum and I weren't seeing eye-to-eye on a lot of things.   Recently, I've been missing my parents quite a lot, and when I told Sini about it she suggested that we take Dad up on his offer.  When I told Dad that we were coming, he sent us money for our bus tickets, which I'm almost positive Mum doesn't know about.   I haven't spent Christmas with my parents in a couple of years.   Initially, I didn't know how I'd feel about staying here this year, but the more I thought about it, the more I started looking forward to it.  I called Dad on Thursday night to tell him we'd be arriving on Saturday, and he promised to meet us at the bus station.

So, on Saturday, Sini, Skyla, Pax and I took a bus trip together.   We're at my parents' house now, and I'm going to tell you more about that later, I promise.  I just want to update you on everybody else's comings and goings first.

Michael and Rommie were invited to spend the holiday with our parents as well, but they decided not to come.  Michael is going over to our house to be with Rommie and the kids for Christmas.   I'm hoping they'll be able to work some stuff out.

Dylan is going skiing with Zoe.  We're all wondering if it's just supposed to be a fun trip or if Dylan has another motive for asking her to join him in a ski lodge in the mountains.  Rest assured, I'll be getting all the details about that as soon as all of us are back at home in the new year.

Beau has a bit more money than the rest of us due to the fact that he has a full-time job, doesn't have a family and doesn't go to school.  He bought himself a ticket to Atlanta where he plans to pass the festive season with his girlfriend Georgia, and possibly convince her to come back with him.  I hope that works out.  I can't imagine how hard it would be to carry on such a long-distance relationship.    I'm really interested to meet Georgia.  I think it'd be awesome to have her come and live with us.

Xander and Remi have managed to scrape together enough money to buy themselves some fancy clothes and to spend a night in a nice hotel.  They're going to be at home on Christmas day with Rommie and the kids.  Remi has to work between Christmas and New Year's, so I guess the hotel plan is for New Year's Eve.

Radek's parents sent him money so that he could fly home to the Czech Republic for Christmas.  He left as soon as school was over and he won't be back until sometime during the first week of January. 

Nobody knows what Hunter is doing.  She doesn't believe in Christmas.  My opinion on that?  It's definitely her loss. 

We decorated the house on my birthday, which was last Monday.   Sapphire had originally wanted us to do it on the weekend, but we were all way too trashed from my most excellent birthday party to do much of anything except the obligatory after-party cleanup on Sunday.   I spent most of Sunday afternoon in bed with Sini, where we cuddled and listened to an audiobook and basically tried to move as little as possible.   Things were more or less back to normal on Monday, and so the decorating commenced. 

Everyone helped with the decorating, even Pax, who was more a hindrance than a helper for some tasks.

Rommie got so frustrated with him that Sini literally had to drag him away from the mess he'd made of the garland.  She set him to work putting ornaments on the tree.   We figured there was no way he could mess that up.   I can't see what I'm doing, and even I can't mess that one up.

Once all the decorating was done Rommie made popcorn and hot chocolate for everyone, and Sapphire gave us all cookies and jumbo candy canes.    Pax liked the candy cane best, I think.  Mint is one of his favourite flavours.

I've happily discovered that holidays with Pax are tons of fun and worth any potential chaos that might ensue from either a cultural misunderstanding or his boundless enthusiasm (or both).  The Christmas season has already been great and we haven't even gotten to the part where we unpack the stockings and open the presents.   Pax has wholeheartedly embraced the entire idea of Christmas and thinks it's the best Earth holiday ever.   I agree.

Pax is deliriously excited for his first visit from Santa Claus.   Truth be told, I was a little amazed at first that Pax believed the story of Santa so readily, but when I thought about it later, it occurred to me that he has no reason not to believe it.   The concept of Santa is all new to him.  Eris doesn't have anything like that, so as far as he's concerned, Santa Claus is just as much a part of life on Earth as wearing clothes and driving around in cars.

To my surprise, Pax doesn't seem overly bothered by the fact that Saint Nick has never visited him before.  In fact, he has a clever explanation for why Santa never gave him any presents when he was living with that other Earth family.   He figures that since he wasn't born on Earth, he wasn't on Santa's list and, since he'd never written to Santa before, the jolly old guy didn't even know Pax was there.   This year, thanks to Canada Post, Pax was not only able to write a letter to Santa but also received a reply.   I wish you guys could've seen how thrilled he was about that.   His letter to Santa was really cute too.  He asked for socks, which wasn't much of a shock to any of us.  He also asked for a new soccer ball, candy, instant noodles and some funny boxers.   Every time I picture the reactions of the volunteers at Canada Post who read that letter I want to laugh.

Pax's worldly and sophisticated eight year old friends, Oliver and Sammy, don't believe in Santa any more although, apparently, Oliver pretends to believe for the benefit of his baby sister and younger cousins.  Pax isn't particularly worried that his friends don't believe, and commented philosophically to me, "It their choice, but they missing out on all the cool Santa magic."

The only part of the Santa story that Pax doesn't buy into is the flying reindeer bit.  He says it's impossible for reindeer to fly because they don't have wings, and all the magic in the world can't make an animal without wings able to fly.   He has a great theory about how Santa really manages to go all around the world delivering presents.   According to Pax, jolly old Saint Nick has a starship which is able to fly all over the world in a single night.   I have to say, I'm rather fond of this version of the tale.  It amuses me to think of Santa orbiting the Earth in his bright red starship and beaming into people's houses to put presents under the tree. 

Before we left for my parents' house, Pax got his first present, which was something from Sapphire.   Naturally, he wanted to open it right away but we told him that he'd have to wait.  We'd pack it with the rest of our things to take to Grandpa and Grandmonster's house, and he could open it with all his other gifts on Christmas day.  (Mum, by the way, is none too pleased that Pax calls her 'Grandmonster' and that we haven't told him not to.)  Pax wouldn't let us pack up his present until the night before we left.   Every day he took it out from under the tree and tried to guess what might be in it.   It's under Mum and Dad's tree now, and he still hasn't figured it out, although some of his guesses have been pretty funny.

So, I guess this brings me around to our trip to the country, doesn't it?   I've travelled by bus lots of times, but I've never travelled by bus with my family before.  Let me just say it was an adventure none of us will soon forget.

We woke up really early on Saturday morning.  Pax was up before any of us and, in an attempt to be helpful, made breakfast for himself, Sini and me.   He managed to make coffee for me and Sini which was pretty good.   The rest of our morning meal was unusual to say the least.  He made toast which he covered liberally with chocolate hazelnut spread, and he fixed us a salad that consisted of spinach, tomatoes, raisins, peanuts, bananas and raw potato.   I've never had a salad for breakfast before, and I've never had one with such seemingly random ingredients at any time of day.  Nevertheless, I thanked Pax for his very grown-up and largely successful effort and ate everything on my plate, with the exception of the potato bits, which I picked out and gave to Sini.   She loves raw potato for some reason, and gladly ate all the pieces I couldn't bring myself to put into my mouth. 

After breakfast, I'm embarrassed to admit, we left the dishes for someone else to do.  It took us a while to get Skyla and Pax and all our baggage organized.  We took a cab to the bus station. 

By the time we got to the  station, Pax was so wound up that no amount of reasoning, coaxing or scolding could make him sit still and behave himself.   He was running all over the place and making that chirping sound he always makes when he's excited.   I could hear him going up to random people and telling them, "Merry Christmas!"   Most people seemed to be responding in kind.  I heard one woman tell him to get out of her way, to which he replied "Bah humbug!" much to the amusement of several other people nearby. 

I left Sini and Skyla with our luggage and got into the lineup to buy our tickets.   I called Pax over to stand in line with me, but he only stayed by my side for a couple of minutes before he got bored and wandered off again.  His voice was getting farther and farther away, and I wondered if Sini could see him.   At the rate he was going, he'd be out of my earshot soon enough with the crowd and the babble of voices all around.   I was stuck in my place in line, and couldn't do more than call out a warning to my precocious boy.

"Pax, don't you dare get lost!"  I yelled.  I was probably wasting my breath, though, because I'm pretty sure he didn't hear me. 

Luckily, Sini had been keeping her eye on him the whole time.   Once I had our tickets, Sini collected Pax and we made our way out to the platform where our bus was loading. Our driver put our bags in the compartment under the bus.   I carried my guitar on board with me though, and Sini carried our backpack with things that Skyla and Pax might need during the trip.  It would take six hours for us to reach our destination and we'd have to change buses at least once.  It was inevitable that we'd need diapers and associated stuff for Skyla and that she and Pax would both want snacks and juice.   We had a Thermos of coffee and some sandwiches for Sini and me as well, and Sini had packed Pax's teddy bear for him and a book for herself.

We were organized.  We were prepared.

It should've been a totally uneventful voyage. 

Let me remind you once again.  I live with aliens. 

When we got on the bus, Pax and I sat in one seat and Sini and Skyla were in the seat behind us.  If i'd hoped that Pax would stay in our seat for more than twenty-five seconds, I would've been hoping in vain.   As soon as the driver entered the bus, Pax hopped up from his spot.

Without even asking if it was okay with me, he started for the front of the bus, calling out, "I be right back, Tyler.  I have to ask the bus driver something."

"Pax, no.  I need you to come back here right now," I said, but it was pointless.

I heard him say, "Excuse me, Mr. Bus Driver.  I have a question."

"Yes," said the voice of a man, presumably our driver. "What's your question?"

"Can this bus go at the speed of light?  I going to my Grandpa's house."

"Uh..." said the driver.

I slumped down in my seat, trying to make myself as inconspicuous as possible and hoping people would not immediately connect me with Pax.  I know, that sounds pretty insensitive, doesn't it?   We'd already had a lot of attention inside the bus station, and all I wanted was to keep the craziness on the bus to a minimum.

That, as you might have guessed, was far too much to ask.

"Does it?" Pax persisted.

"No," said the driver.

"Why?"

"Because it's a bus.   Now,  you'll have to return to your seat.  I'm going to collect tickets."

A moment later, Pax flopped into the seat beside me and sighed.  "He not very helpful at all.  I just ask a simple question."

"He gave you a pretty simple answer," I said.

"It a silly answer," Pax said.  "You always tell me 'because' not a proper answer.  When I ask why this bus not go--"

"Doesn't go."

"When I ask why it doesn't go at the speed of light, he only say 'because'."

"It doesn't go at the speed of light because nobody on Earth has figured out how to make things go that fast yet," I said. "Nobody except Santa, that is." 

"Oh," said Pax, and then after a couple of seconds,  "You way behind.  Earth going to be very late for the party."  

"What party would that be?"

"How can you go to other planets if you not have....don't have...things that go at the speed of light?"

"Most people on Earth don't even believe there is life on other planets, so going to them hasn't really been a big priority," I said.

"I like this planet," Pax said, "but it very stupid sometimes."

I was saved from having to make any kind of response to that by the bus driver stopping at our seat and asking for our tickets.  I handed mine over and waited until he removed the appropriate portion of it and handed the rest back to me.   I assumed Pax gave the driver his ticket too.

The driver said, "Same destination.  Are you travelling together?"

"Yes," Pax said eagerly. "We all together.   My soul mother and my sister back there.  We going to Grandpa's house.  He has a farm.  Oh...and my grandmonster lives there too, but she doesn't like me. They have horses and cats and a dog.  And guess what else?"

"Pax--" I began.

"Sir," the driver said, and I knew he was addressing me. "Is this person with you?"

"Yeah," I said.

"Can you please make sure he stays in his seat once the bus starts moving?"

"Yeah, I can do that."

"What if I have to use the bathroom?" Pax said. 

"Let's hope you don't."

He leaned in close and said in a stage whisper. "I drink a lot of apple juice at breakfast today."

I groaned and sank even further down in my seat.  It was already shaping up to be a long trip and we hadn't even left the bus station yet.    I warned Pax that he would be in big trouble if he left his seat for any reason other than to go to the bathroom and, since it would be a challenge for us to give him a time out while we were on the bus, I'd have to think of some kind of creative way to discipline him later.   I suggested that if he misbehaved, he wouldn't get any candy for three days.

The prospect of having no candy for a full seventy-two hours must've been sufficiently frightening to make him sit still and be quiet.  For the first half-hour or so, he played with his bear and chatted about what he wanted to do when we got to the farm.   I thought he was doing great.  I allowed myself to relax a little and congratulated myself on my brilliant parenting strategy.

You know that old saying about not speaking too soon? I should've remembered that one while I was giving myself a hearty pat on the back for convincing my rambunctious child to be quiet. I mean, really, I should've known better.

It was all good until Pax started singing.

Courtesy of my dear friend Beau, he now knows all the words to Jingle Bells and Santa Claus Is Coming To Town which are, in my opinion, quite possibly two of the most annoying Christmas songs ever.   Pax is a good singer.  He has a sweet voice and I think he may have perfect pitch.  Lovely voice notwithstanding, however, a guy can only tolerate so many solo performances by his kid of Santa Claus Is Coming To Town before he starts to lose his mind.

I didn't really want to tell him to stop singing, but I was worried that I wasn't the only person he might be bothering.   It took me a couple of minutes to figure out an elegant solution.   I said, "Pax, how would you like to learn a new song?"

"I like this song," he said.  "Beau teach it to me, except he sing it like this.  He's makin' a list an' checkin' it twice...He's gonna find out who's naughty an' nice..."

I laughed in spite of the situation.  Pax was doing an almost flawless imitation of Beau's southern accent.   I said, "Yeah, that's pretty much how Beau sings it.   He didn't happen to teach you any other ones, did he?"

"He try to teach me one about a snowman, but I don't like that one.  I don't like snow."

"I'm going to teach you a new one," I said.  "You can sing it for Grandpa and Grandmonster, okay?"

"Okay," he said.  "What it about?"

"It's very special.  It's a song all about going home for Christmas."

"That sound nice.  Any presents in it?"

"There's a line about presents under the tree."

"Okay.  You teach me that," he said.  "I learn it really good and sing it for Grandpa."

He did learn it really well, too, although he refuses to sing the line that goes 'please have snow and mistletoe' because he doesn't like snow and he doesn't know exactly what mistletoe is.  Pax's version goes, 'please have cake and apple juice, and presents under the tree'.   Whatever.  If it makes him happy, it makes me happy. 

After Pax sang the song all the way through all by himself, the people across the aisle from us clapped and told him he was doing a great job.    Pax laughed and thanked them, and then he said, "They like me, Tyler!  They really like me!"

"Seems that way," I said, smiling.

"I sing something else?"

"What else do you know?" I said.

"Um...I do Jingle Bells again."

That was the point at which the man in the seat ahead of us turned around and said, "You're a beautiful singer, young man, but I think we'd rather hear something else.  Do you know Silent Night?"

"Can you teach me, please?" Pax asked.

"I think so," said the man.  "Maybe your friend will sing along, too."

"Oh...you mean Tyler?  He my father," Pax said cheerfully. "Not my real father, but my soul father.  I adopted, and now I have grandparents and everything.  We going there for Christmas."

"That's wonderful," said the man.  "I'm going to visit my daughter and grandson."

"I hope you have a nice Christmas with lots of love and presents," Pax told him.

The man laughed.  "I hope the same for you.   How about that song, then?"

"Yes!" Pax said. 

After we sang Silent Night with the man in the seat in front of us - we learned his name is Gordon - the people across the aisle wanted to sing Away In A Manger.   Pax's new friend Gordon sang along for that one, too.   We found out the people across the aisle are called David and Judy, and they're engaged to be married.  They were on their way to visit David's mother and tell her the good news.    Next, the woman in the seat in front of David and Judy requested a different Christmas song.  She told everyone her name and where she was headed, too.

By the time we'd finished the fourth song and found out where the person who'd suggested it was off to, we had almost everyone on the bus singing along.   It was amazing and I loved it.   If ever there was a real life example of togetherness and the Christmas spirit, we had it right there on that bus.  By the time we reached our transfer point, practically everyone had chosen a song for all of us to sing and had shared a little bit about themselves.   The ride that I'd thought would be far too lengthy for my mental comfort didn't seem nearly long enough once we started getting to know each other a little.   When the bus finally arrived at its destination, everyone spent several minutes saying goodbye to each other before we all reunited with our families. 

Somebody once said there's no such thing as strangers, only friends you haven't met.    We met a lot of friends on Saturday, and I feel confident in saying we owe that in large part to Pax.

Dad was there to meet us when we got off the bus, just as he'd promised.   He helped us find all our luggage and then he and I piled it into his van.   It was a relatively short ride from town to the farm.  I sat up front with Dad, and he described everything to me as we drove along.  The road home was just as I remembered it.

You'll be pleased to know that our visit has been going really well so far.   Mum seems to be making a real effort to get along with Sini, and it's obvious Sini has noticed and is trying to repay the kindness.  It makes me happy to see that.  I want Mum and Sini to like each other at least, even if they never become close friends.   Mum is trying hard to connect with Pax, too.   She took him to a pie social on Sunday afternoon, and I heard her reading to him last night.  Right now, she's in the kitchen with him and Sini and Skyla.   Evidently, Mum is teaching Sini how to make apple pie.  Pax is decorating the cookies that he and his Grandmonster made yesterday afternoon. 

I'm going to end this post here.  My dad just came into the room and asked me if I want to go out on a house call with him.   A lot of my father's patients are cattle and horses and it's not exactly easy for them to come to him, so he often goes to them.  Like a people doctor, it seems as if an animal doctor's work never takes a break, not even for Christmas Eve.

When I was still living at home, Dad often took me along on calls when he had to look after a horse.  I can't do a lot to help Dad with his work, but he says the horses always seem much calmer with me there.  He says I have an affinity with horses like nobody else he's ever known.   I love horses, as you guys know, and I like to believe what Dad says about me in that regard is true. 

I think I will go with him.  Sini and our kids are busy in the kitchen with Mum, and I think I've told you guys everything I wanted to tell.   Besides, I really want to spend some time with Dad, and there's nothing quite like being in a barn on Christmas Eve, surrounded by gentle animals, the sounds of a winter night and the sweet smell of hay.  

I'll be back after the holidays to tell you all about our Christmas celebration.   For now, I'll just wish you all a peaceful, happy, blessed holiday, no matter which one you observe.  I hope you find yourself surrounded by the people you love and that you make wonderful memories together.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!

Sock Wisdom

If you haven't already guessed from the title, this post is about socks.

I know.  You're all sitting there staring at your computers and wondering if I've lost my mind, right?  You're probably asking yourselves, How could an entire blog post be all about socks? Maybe in the lives of normal bloggers it would be considered stupid, dull, impractical or just plain impossible to make an entire post on this topic but, as you know, normal is not something we do well around here.  I gave up on normal a long time ago.   That having been said, I don't think I'm any worse off for it. In fact, with an open mind, a good sense of humour and plenty of patience, the abandonment of normalcy can sometimes be fun. So...on to today's post!

I live with aliens.

This means there are moments in my life that are just plain weird.

I suppose everybody has odd moments but, measured on the weird-o-meter, I'm pretty sure a normal person's odd moment wouldn't come anywhere close to the weirdness I cope with on a fairly regular basis.  Mind you, not all the weirdness in my life is horrible.   Most of it isn't all that bad at all.   It's usually awkward and sometimes frustrating or embarrassing, but mostly it's amusing and cute.

Take this morning at breakfast, for example, when Sini paused in her systematic attack on some unsuspecting limes to announce, "Tyler, I have decided to wear socks."

Sini is somewhere in the neighbourhood of thirty-five 'Earth years' old and, to my knowledge, the one and only time in her life that she's ever worn stockings was on our wedding day.   She hates covering her feet with anything and it's all I can do to convince her to wear shoes when we go out.   Why she should suddenly feel the need to wear socks was a mystery, albeit one I was not willing to explore at seven o'clock in the morning on the day of a law school exam. (My last one for this semester, by the way!)

As you might well imagine, Sini's statement was greeted by some poorly concealed snickering around the table from our roommates.  But, did I laugh?   Of course not.   Maybe I was in dutiful husband mode, or maybe I've just become immune to off-the-wall statements like this, because my response was, "Okay.  Do you want to borrow a pair of mine or get your own?"

More laughter erupted at that point and nobody seemed to be bothered trying to hide it that time.

Under the table, Sini curled her ridiculously dextrous toes around my woefully average ones and said, "Do you have any pink socks?"

"Uh...probably not," I said.

"Then I will get my own." 

"Okay," I said, and went back to eating my oatmeal.

Yep...handled that like a pro.

What I didn't handle like a pro was the second act of Sini's sock drama.   When I got home from school at lunchtime, I was ready to celebrate the successful completion of my first semester of law school.  The last situation I expected to face was the absence of anyone greeting me at the door.   Sini usually pounces on me the moment I come in, and the fact that she wasn't there sent a little shiver of worry through me. 

I made my way to the living room where I found Pax playing with Skyla, Jack and Cleo.  The game seemed to involve tossing the small throw cushions from the sofa into an empty laundry basket.  I discovered this when I walked into the room, nearly tripped over the clothes basket and then got hit by a flying cushion.

"Jack did it!" was Pax's immediate disclaimer, which was followed by giggling and, "Sorry. It sort of my fault, too." 

Pax explained the game to me while I allowed myself to be mobbed by toddlers.  With Skyla in one arm, Jack in the other and Cleo clinging onto my leg, I shuffled over to our pillow-less couch.  I deposited my hangers-on, and said to Pax, "Where's everybody?"

"Mostly at work or school," he said.  "Rommie went to the store and she take Lucy with her.  I baby sitting."

"You're baby sitting by yourself?"

"Yes."

"Where's Sini?  And Hunter?"

"Hunter sleeping," Pax said.  "She sleep all day long."

"What about Sini?  She's here, right?"

'Yes."

"Is she okay?"

"Sini having a moment," he said.  "That what Rommie said." 

"Dare I ask what kind of moment she's having?"

"A long one."

"Okay," I said. "Do you think you can tell me about it?"

"Better if Sini tell you about it," Pax said. "But I think it about socks.  It all about socks."

"Socks."

"Yes.  Sini go shopping this morning and she say she want to buy socks and I ask if I can come and buy socks too.   We go to the mall and I pick out rainbow socks.  Rainbow!  But, Sini not buy anything, and she the one who want socks in the first place."

"And now she's...having a moment?"

"She very confused.  She cry all the way home."

"About socks?"

Pax laid a hand on my forearm and said very gravely, "Socks very serious business, Tyler.  First pair of socks change your life forever.  You get socks, and it like you become a real Earth person."  

"I see."  Apparently I've underestimated the importance of socks all these years.  I had no idea they were such a badge of honour.  I said, "So, where's Sini now?"

"In our room."

"Okay,  I'm going upstairs to check on her.  You can keep on baby sitting until I come down."

"Okay," Pax agreed. "I pretty good at this, you know."

"Baby sitting?"

"Yes.  I almost a expert now."

I grinned. "Really?  Have you changed any diapers yet, or tried to give Jack his vitamins?"

"No," Pax said. "That not in my job description."

I didn't have to ask him where he'd picked up that line.  That's classic Rommie, and ranks right up there with, 'Mommy can't hear you right now because she's taking a mental vacation'  and 'Do I look like the lost and found department to you?'   I'm waiting for the day when Pax decides to try out, 'You can wash your own dirty laundry. I'm not your mother.' 

"I'm not even going to ask what's in your job description," I said.

Skyla had been sitting on my lap during most of my conversation with Pax.  I tried to pass her to him so I could get up from the couch, but she didn't seem too happy about it.  She started to whine, and she clung to me like I was trying to hand her over to a scary stranger.   When I tried to peel her little fingers off my sweater she started to whimper and say repeatedly, "No, Daddy! Noooo!"

"Skyla, it's okay," I said.  "You can play with Pax.  Daddy will be back in a few minutes."   

Skyla evidently wasn't buying into the plan, because all I got in response to that was another wail of, "No!"

"She hungry," Pax informed me.

"You can feel that?"

"How else could I know she hungry?" he said. "She not tell me with words, like grown-up people."  

"Maybe you are getting to be an expert," I said.  "You can give her some crackers for now, and please watch her while she eats them.  I'll make lunch for you guys when I come back, okay?"

"Can we have noodles?"

"Yes, but you're going to eat fruit or vegetables too.  You can't live on instant noodles, you know."

"Banana!" Pax decided.

"I'm going to make a salad for you and me and Sini," I said.  "You can have a banana for dessert, if you want.  There might be some kiwi fruit left, too."

"I going to have that with ice cream, okay?  With raisins and maybe some mint candy and almonds and peanuts."

"We'll discuss that after lunch," I said.   I made one last attempt to give Skyla to him, and finally succeeded.  "If Jack and Cleo are hungry, they can have a few crackers too.   I'll be right back." 

"Okay," Pax said.

I made a hasty exit from the living room before Skyla got a chance to change her mind about letting her big brother take her from my arms.  I wasn't prepared to handle both my girls having what Pax euphemistically referred to as a 'moment'.   I had a feeling that discovering the nature of Sini's 'moment' and dealing with that would be enough amateur psychology for me for one day.

When I reached our room, I found the door closed.   For a half-second I debated whether or not I should knock.   In the end I concluded that it's my room too, so I didn't really have to.   I did, however,  push the door open a few centimeters and call out Sini's name before I actually walked in.

She was lying on our bed, curled into as tight a ball as she could manage.   I discovered that when I climbed onto the bed next to her and tried to give her a hug.   For my effort, I was rewarded with, "I do not want to cuddle."

"No 'hello' or 'congratulations on surviving your first semester of law school'?" I said.

"Hello.  Congratulations."

"Thanks....I think."

"I am sorry," she said.  "I have had a very bad day so far."

"Are you feeling all right?"

"No better or worse than usual," she said.

I sat up since cuddling was off the agenda and it didn't appear that Sini even intended to turn over and face me.   I said, "Do you want to tell me why you're having a bad day, then?  Maybe there's something I can do."

"I do not want to talk about it."

I didn't need to be an empath to know she didn't mean that.  When Sini doesn't want to discuss something, she's usually far more adamant.  She'll often tell me to shut up and go away until she's ready to talk about whatever is on her mind.  Not in those exact words, of course, but the message is usually pretty clear.   In my experience, when she simply says she doesn't want to talk about it, I can generally interpret that to mean she doesn't know how to talk about it or she doesn't know where to start.

I said, "Pax told me that you went shopping this morning."

She was quiet for a long time, but finally she said, "Yes."

"Can you tell me what happened?"

"Nothing happened," she said.  "That is the problem."

"You're confusing me," I said.  "Pax said you were going to buy socks."

"Yes."

"But you didn't?"

"No."

"Why not?"

There was another long pause.  Then she said, "I could not decide!" and began to cry. 

I admit, I was torn between feeling sorry for her and seriously wanting to laugh at the absurdity of the situation.  I struggled with that for several seconds and, as desperate as I was to keep my laughter in check, it was ultimately the successful combatant in my emotional battle.    Somehow I managed, "I'm sorry."

"Why are you laughing?" she demanded.

"I know this isn't funny to you, but...but....you couldn't decide?  I thought you wanted pink socks."

"I did, but there were so many different pink ones!  And purple!  And...and rainbow!"   

I'd like to tell you this was the point at which I tried to console her but, I'm sorry to say, it was not.  I laughed even more than I did before.   I know, I'm probably a terrible person for finding amusement in all this, but I just could not figure out what was so tragic about not being able to choose a pair of socks.  To me, her distress seemed all out of proportion to the circumstances.

When I caught my breath, I said once again, "I'm sorry, Sini."

"You do not care about this, do you?"

"I do," I said.  "Honestly, I'm sorry you're upset, but I don't understand why." 

"I wanted socks,"  she said miserably, "but I did not get any." 

"Because you couldn't make up your mind about which ones to get."

"Yes."

"Why did you want socks in the first place?"

"To cover my feet."

"Yeah, but why?"

"Because...because I do not want to look at them," she said.  "They are swollen and ugly.   I thought pretty socks would make me feel better."

"Oh," I said, and it all began to make sense suddenly.  "Let me see your feet."

"Why?"

"Humour me," I said.  I patted my knee.  "Come on.  Can you put your feet here?"

"I think so," she said.

It took a bit of coordination, but eventually we settled into a position that was good for both of us.  I sat near the end of the bed, and Sini was reclining on a bunch of pillows with her feet resting on another pillow that I'd placed across my knees.   It's remarkable how the number of pillows on our bed seems to be multiplying in a direct relationship to the progress of Sini's pregnancy.  We started out with two pillows, and I think we're up to seven now.  We'll probably have ten by March.   I'm not sure where they're all coming from, to be honest, but as long as they're helping to keep Sini comfortable I'm not going to question it.

I could tell that her feet were swollen as soon as I touched them, and I wondered if she might be in pain.  It was one of those times when I wished I shared her empathic sense.   She says she can always tell when I'm in pain, and she always seems to know exactly what I need to make me feel better.   I wanted to be able to do the same for her. 

I stroked the top of her right foot.  "Who told you that your feet are ugly, anyway?"

"No one.  I think they are."

"I don't think so," I said.  "At least you haven't got gross veins popping up like I do.  If we're talking about ugly feet, I have ugly feet.  Yours are lovely."

"You mean that."

"You'd know if I didn't," I said.

"Yes," she agreed.  "But, how can you think they are beautiful?"

"Because they're yours," I told her.  "I know you're not too thrilled about them being swollen, but you've got to consider the reason for it."

"It is because of our child."

"I could never think of that without thinking everything about you right now is beautiful."  

"Even my swollen feet?"

"Even those," I said.  "I'm sorry I laughed about the socks."

"It is okay.  I suppose it is funny for you."

"Yeah, a little," I said.  "You hate socks. It was kind of bizarre how obsessed you seemed about them today."

"I also thought I hated my feet."

"But you don't now?"

"Perhaps I still do a little," she said. "But, I feel better." 

"I'm glad," I said.  "I think I know something else that might make you feel better."

"Oh? What is it?"

"I'll show you."

 Carefully, I began to massage one of her feet.  This was something I'd never done before and I had no clue if I was doing it right, or even if there is a right way.   Correct or not, it must've worked for Sini because after several seconds of my attention she made one of her non-word sounds; a low growl in her throat, almost like a purr.   I'd never heard her use that one in any context except... Well, I probably don't need to spell it out for you guys, do I?

She said, "Tyler, this is...." but evidently could not think of an English word she found appropriate.  She said something in Erisan.

"I guess that means you like it?" I said.

"Yes, very much," she said, and gave me another little growl. "It is very..." that same Erisan word again.

I grinned and said, "If you think this is foreplay, you'd better tell me now." 

"No, I do not think that, but It is...super awesome," she said. "Why did you not do this before?"

"I never thought of it," I said.  "You know, if your feet are swollen like this every day, you really should stay off them as much as you can."

"Lately, they are swollen like this every day," she said.  She sighed. "I really do not like looking at them."

"Do you still want socks?"

"I do not know.  Maybe."

"I'll tell you what," I said. "You can borrow some from me and try them out.  If you still want your own after that, I'll come shopping with you and help you pick out a couple of pairs, okay?"

"How will you help me?"

"You shouldn't have to ask that," I said.  "Obviously, you're going to describe the ones you like, and I'm going to encourage you to pick two or three, and we're not leaving without buying something."

She seemed to think about that for a minute, and then she said, "Maybe I will not get my own socks.  Maybe I will just wear yours."

"That's fine," I said.  "It's okay if you change your mind later, though."

"I do not think I will," she said.

"None of my socks are pink or purple.   If you get bored of black or grey or whatever, I'll understand." 

"I think I would get bored of grey if they were not your socks," she said.

"I don't get it," I said.  I finished massaging her right foot and started on the left one. "Why would my grey socks be any less boring than any other grey socks?"

"Because every time I put them on I will think of you," she said. "I will think about you doing this.  So, your grey socks will be very special grey socks." 

I have to say, I liked the idea of that.  I liked the thought that Sini would be happier wearing my socks than she would be with a pair of her very own.

It was then that I fully realized an object really doesn't have to be elaborate or expensive to be meaningful to someone.  Something as pedestrian and ordinary as a borrowed pair of grey socks can have significance to the people who understand the story behind it.    Like Sini, I felt sure I would be thinking of this moment every time I noticed her wearing my socks.   I'll remember how much we love each other and  that she's willing to forgive me for being dumb and insensitive sometimes.  I'll think about how we always tackle our challenges together, no matter if they're big or small.

I can almost hear somebody out there saying, All that, just from a pair of socks?

Yeah.  All that.

So, as it turns out, Pax is right and socks really are serious business.   When you get up tomorrow,  put on your socks and wear them with pride.   If someone you love gave those socks to you, cherish that person and remind yourself why they're a special part of your life.   

Happy Birthday To Me (And Michael)

It's my birthday!!!

It's Michael's birthday too, although he's not nearly as happy about it as I am.  I enjoy my birthday.  it's a big deal every year as far as I'm concerned, and I don't mind saying that I love it when other people make as much of my birthday as I do.

There are some disadvantages to sharing a birthday with a sibling, as you might well imagine.  Being a twin means that your birthday is never all about you.  I hope you guys don't think I'm a selfish person, but sometimes I like things to be all about me. 

Another thing is that being born in December has its own special difficulties.   Having a birthday this close to Christmas means that your birthday is sometimes overshadowed by that other big winter event.    With Christmas only nine days after our birthday, it meant Michael and I usually received small birthday presents from our parents when we were growing up.  The more significant gifts were for Christmas, naturally, but I think I would've preferred it to be the other way around.   The one notable exception to the 'small birthday presents' tradition was on our sixteenth birthday, when Michael got his first car and I got my very own horse.  Best birthday present ever, in my opinion.   Our parents always let us have a birthday party, though, and we always had a cake. 

If you're starting to get the impression that Michael and I were spoiled, you're probably right, but I think we were spoiled in a good way.  Our parents gave us lots of attention when we were kids and I never felt like I was missing out on anything.  Presents were an amazing bonus to our already fortunate childhood.

Sometimes I wonder what changed between our childhood and now.   I mean, it's obvious that Michael and I have grown up, but I don't know if that should have altered our relationships with Mum and Dad so much.   Mum and I don't connect the way we used to; it's like she disapproves of me more and more all the time.   Michael doesn't really seem to get along with either of our parents any more.   Personally, I'm very grateful for my relationship with my father.  At least nothing much has changed between Dad and me.

But...I'm not going to dwell on my parents right now.  That's probably best left for another post anyway, and besides, IT'S MY BIRTHDAY (in case you didn't know).

I got loads of birthday greetings today from people at school.  Eddie, my boss, sprang for pizza and cake for the staff at the store, and he somehow managed to find a birthday card with Braille on it.  It was awesome.   Garrett, one of my childhood friends from our days at the school for the blind, also sent me a Braille card.   I need to find out where those came from.   I want to send one to Garrett on his birthday in April.  

I got a birthday greeting from Google, too:

When I sat down at my computer and I heard my screen reader saying happy birthday to me, I actually laughed out loud.  I thought maybe somebody had been playing with it.   Sini came into the room when she heard me laughing, and I asked her to look at the screen and tell me what she saw.  Turns out, nobody had been messing with my screen reading software after all.  Sini said my Google screen had a bunch of pictures of birthday cake on it, and when she used the track pad to move the mouse pointer over the picture, a little box came up that said 'Happy Birthday Tyler!'   That was the alt text my screen reader had been picking up.

Of course I had to show everybody in the house who was interested.   I carried my laptop all over the place, showing off my Google birthday screen.   Beau, Remi and Dylan liked it.  Even Xander admitted that he liked it.   Rommie didn't seem impressed, though, and told me that I was acting like a little kid.

"So what?" I said. "It's my birthday."  

Pax thought the whole thing was awesome.  It's possible that he was even more excited about it than I was.

"How does the internet know your birthday?" he asked me.  "It magic?"

"No, it's not magic. When I registered for my email address and everything, there was a part where I had to include my birth date.  That's how the internet knows my birthday.  I wasn't expecting a birthday greeting, though."

"Can the internet know my birthday?" Pax wanted to know.

"When's your birthday?"

"In the rainy season."

"When's that?"

"Not the dry season," he said.

I laughed. "That's not helping much, buddy.  I don't know when the rainy seasons and the dry seasons are on Eris."

"The dry season very hot," he said. "It like summer, but longer.   Then, when it rain a lot, that the rainy season."

"The winter, then?"

"Yes, but I born at the end of the rainy season," he said. "That's what Suvi say."

"So, your birthday's in the spring."

"Maybe," he said.  "I not know."

"I don't know," I corrected him.

"I don't know," he repeated dutifully. "Maybe we ask Sini."

So, we did.   From Sini I learned that Erisans don't celebrate birthdays like we do.   Although mothers generally remember the exact day their children were born, they don't make an annual event of it after that, nor does anyone else, for that matter.  The exact date of a child's birth is recorded with the government and I guess that's pretty important but, for the purposes of daily life, Erisans seem to find it sufficient to know in which year they were born and in what season.

According to Sini, the end of the rainy season on Eris' Central Continent where Pax used to live coincides with spring in Northern Continent, where Sini used to live.  We decided that since we don't know Pax's exact birth date, we'd let him pick one day in spring to be his 'birthday' and we'll celebrate it Earth style.   Pax thought that was a brilliant idea.  He picked 28th March as his 'Earth birthday'.    We promised him a cake, and we said he could have a small party.

He's going to be seventeen, which is kind of weird to think about.  He's the same physical age as Radek, and only a few years younger than Xander and Remi, but they're leaps and bounds ahead of him in practically every way.    We don't normally think of someone who's almost seventeen as a child.  I wonder what Erisans would think of Earth's independent seventeen year olds who have jobs, drive around in cars, prepare for college and essentially run their own lives.   The average Erisan would probably think our kids grow up way too fast.  

Personally, I think growing up is overrated.

Twenty-four going on twelve works for me, at least for today.

Oh...I've got to tell you about my party!  It was amazing, seriously, although I don't think Sapphire was particularly impressed with the number of people who showed up.   I'm not sure who made up the guest list, but I don't think I'd be exaggerating if I guessed about fifty people came to the party.  Fifty people who don't live here already, that is.    Michael came, which was super awesome, but he brought Josh and some of their other friends which was...not so awesome.   Josh is the self-proclaimed 'Party Tornado', a nickname which I can assure you is wholly appropriate.  The guy is practically a force of nature.  A loud, obnoxious, habitually intoxicated force of nature.  Go Josh.

We collected keys from everyone who arrived in cars - or on a motorcycle in Josh's case - and then I asked Pax to go and hide them.   Anyone who was drinking wouldn't get their keys back until Sunday morning, even if that meant some people had to crash on the living room floor.   Some people did exactly that, although a lot of people took the bus or a cab home, and there were also a few designated drivers. 

The party wound down around two in the morning, by which time Sini and I decided it was far too late to collect Skyla from her baby sitter's house.  Rommie felt much the same way about going to pick up her kids from their sitter.  Fortunately, we'd all planned for that eventuality.  I don't know what Rommie told her kids' sitter, but Sini and I let our friend Amelia know that if we didn't call by midnight, we wouldn't be coming for Skyla till Sunday morning.   We made sure Skyla had everything she needed for an overnight stay, and Amelia said she was only too glad to keep Skyla overnight.

After the party, Pax decided that he was going to have a 'sleepover' in Beau and Dylan's room.  That was fine with us.  We sent him off to the basement and spent the rest of the night alone together, blissfully free from responsibility.  Sini suggested we lock the door of our room.  For what she had in mind, that turned out to be an exceptionally good idea.   Happy birthday to me!

We were all pretty wrecked on Sunday and cleaning up after the party wasn't much fun, but the guests who'd stayed over all helped with the cleanup too, so it wasn't as bad as it could have been.   By lunchtime on Sunday, everything was back in proper order, more or less.

Michael stayed all night, and I'm pleased to say he didn't crash in the living room.   On Sunday morning when I got up, I overheard them talking in Rommie's room.  I was dying to linger in the hallway and eavesdrop, but I was worried somebody might catch me there.   I don't know what Rommie and Michael were talking about, but it didn't sound like they were fighting, so I'm hoping that's a good sign.

Well, I'd better end this post here.  I've got some studying to do because I've got an exam tomorrow.  My last exam is on Thursday, and then I'll have my holidays.   I'm really looking forward to having a few days off from work and school.   I'll try to post again before Christmas, but if I don't manage it, I hope each and every one of you has the best holiday ever!

I'm Still Alive!

Hey everyone! Happy Friday the 13^th!

You guys have probably been thinking that I dropped off the face of the Earth or something, but I'm here to assure you that the rumours of my demise, as they say, have been greatly exaggerated. It's been a long time since I posted anything here, and I apologize for that. Life has been hectic and crazy as always, and we've had some changes around here over the last month or so. Some of us are still trying to adjust.

Where do I start? I realize Halloween is old news by now but, considering the last time you guys heard from me was a couple of days before Halloween, let me tell you anyway, okay? Pax's first Halloween with us was a big event, not soon to be forgotten, and I'd feel bad if I didn't at least give it a mention.

The family Pax had been staying with before he found his way to us celebrated Halloween of course, so he already had a basic idea of what it was all about but, as I may have mentioned before, Pax wasn't really a part of that family even though he was living in their house. From what I can tell, they treated him more like a pet than a person. I don't think they explicitly excluded him from anything, but it seems that he never got to participate fully in family events and holidays like Halloween and Christmas. It makes me sad whenever I think about that. I mean, I'm grateful that those people kept him safe and gave him a warm place to sleep and lots of food to eat, but I don't understand how they failed to recognize that Pax is an intelligent person.

A few weeks before Halloween, I explained the whole thing to him and then asked him what his costume was going to be. He told me that he wanted to think about it. Sini and I both interpreted that as his way of saying that he wanted to consult with his friends to see what they planned to dress up as. However, what really happened was that Pax's friends, Sammy and Oliver, took their cue from him. Pax decided he wanted to be a banana, and so his friends decided to dress up as food, too. Oliver was a hotdog. Sammy, who cleverly constructed her own costume, was a box of Pop-Tarts. Oliver and Sammy had a great time describing each other's costumes to me when they came to our house. It was like a contest between them to see who could give me the most detail. They both find my blindness fascinating and seem to enjoy telling me all about how things look.

Pax went out trick-or-treating with Oliver and Sammy. Oliver's dad, who I'm now convinced has the patience of several saints, volunteered to chaperone all three of them. I wouldn't have wanted that job, mostly because I'm pretty sure I couldn't have handled it by myself. Maybe next year, Sini and I can go out together with the kids. Skyla will be old enough for trick-or-treating next year as well, so we'll really be able to make it into a family adventure.

This year, Sini and I stayed home to help Sapphire hand out treats. Mostly everyone else was out at one event or another. Michael went to Josh's party, which was by all accounts, the craziest party in town. Rommie didn't go with him. She stayed here and occupied herself with her kids and Skyla, but she did come downstairs to see Cassie and her friends in their costumes, and to see Pax and his friends in theirs.

I guess I don't need to tell you that we had some hyper kids around here when everybody got back from trick-or-treating. Pax, Sammy and Oliver staked out their turf in the living room where they sorted out all their loot and traded with each other for treats they liked better. Somehow, Pax ended up with a lot of miniature Mars Bars. Later he explained to me that he got all of Oliver's Mars Bars because Oliver prefers salty treats and he got all of Sammy's because she said Mars Bars are the best candy for someone from another planet. He traded a lot of Goldfish crackers and Doritos for them, which I suppose was great for him because he's not a big fan of anything cheese-flavoured. He'd rather have sugar.

Oliver and Sammy didn't stay as late as they wanted to because it was a school night. They whined and moaned while Oliver's father and Sini helped them pack up their stuff, and complained how it's unfair that they have to go to school and Pax doesn't. Then, Pax started saying how he thinks it's not fair that Sammy and Oliver go to school while he has to stay home.

Pax has been begging us for weeks now to let him go to school with his friends. Sini and I recognize that he needs an education and that we can't keep him at home forever, but we're not sure how to deal with his desire to go to our neighbourhood elementary school. Sini teaches him reading and math as best she can at home but she says he's reached the age where his learning potential is at its peak, and she says he'd already have started attending school with his peers if he were on their home world. Apparently, all Erisan children are home-schooled until they reach the age of about fourteen or fifteen. After that, they go to learning centres which, as far as I can gather from what Sini tells me, seem to be set up more like universities than high schools. Erisans don't do formal education in the same way a lot of Earth cultures do. Teenagers go to the learning centres for four to six years – until they've completed the fundamental courses and whatever advanced programs of study they enroll in after that – and then they can either look for work or seek higher education.

The main problem Sini and I have with sending Pax to school here is that we have no idea if we can even register him with the school district. We'd have a lot of explaining to do, I think, and neither of us are really prepared for a potential administrative nightmare right now. Then there's the issue of what grade he should be in. Physically he's sixteen years old, and most sixteen year olds are in tenth or eleventh grade, but he's got the emotional and mental maturity of a highly intelligent ten-year-old, so I'm pretty sure the fifth grade would be more appropriate. The school board, however, might have a problem with a sixteen-year-old in grade five.

The other worry I have about sending Pax to school is how he'll get along with the other kids. He's great friends with Oliver and Sammy, and he's fine with the other kids in our neighbourhood, but the atmosphere in a public school is a lot different than it is at the park on Saturday. Kids can be cruel, especially toward anyone who's different. Pax's friend Sammy has had terrible problems with bullies at school this year, and even though Oliver sticks up for her, I think it's still really tough for her to cope.

Sammy is adopted, and the reason kids are picking on her is because she's brown and her parents are white. That's it. Sammy is a smart, playful, funny kid. She's a good kid, and she doesn't deserve to be tormented simply because she's the brown girl with white parents. How much worse would it be for Pax as the pointy-eared green kid, or the teenager in grade five? I don't want to let him go through that. It would seriously break my heart to have him come home crying every day like Sammy's father says she does sometimes.

That is the exact reason why my parents kept me out of public school, too. From kindergarten until third grade I attended a special school for the blind. It was in the city, so for nine months of the year my mother and I lived in a tiny apartment a few blocks from my school. Michael was in public school in the country and Dad had his veterinary practice, so they didn't come to the city with us. Mum and I came home on weekends and of course we went back to the country for the summer, but the situation wasn't easy for any of us. Mum struggled just as hard as I did to learn how to read and do math in Braille. She came to all my singing lessons and piano lessons with me, attended my mobility classes and even learned to do things blindfolded just to see what it was like for me. We would make a game of it sometimes. I remember her going around our apartment with her blindfold on, bumping into stuff she couldn't see, and then laughing when I ran past her without bumping into anything. I really miss those times. Back then, I had no doubt that my mother loved me. I know she still loves me now, but I usually didn't have to remind myself of that when I was a little kid.

Once my mother was confident in both our abilities, my parents decided that it was time for Mum and me to come home to stay, and they also decided that Michael and I would be home-schooled. Kids had been giving Michael a hard time in school, and I guess Mum and Dad felt that if my smart, athletic and – most importantly – sighted brother was having problems, it'd be ten times worse for me. I'm grateful to my parents for that. I'm not sure how my life would've turned out if I'd grown up in fear of my own peers. I understand how damaging all that harassment and bullying can be, and I'm glad my parents wanted to protect me from that. I want to protect Pax from it, too. I would hate to see our wonderful, confident, outgoing boy change into someone who's scared to go outside the door.

I told Pax we'd have to think about school. Sini and I need to discuss it some more. We're not going to make any decisions about it before the end of this term anyway. Sini says we've got more pressing things to focus on right now, such as getting me through my first-semester exams and then getting ready for the arrival of our new baby.

Sini says she thinks the baby will come before March. I'm not sure if that's good news. Don't get me wrong; I'm really excited for our new arrival, but I'm also very aware of how quickly time is moving along. Back in the summer it seemed like we had all the time in the world to prepare for our new little one. Now, it's like she's coming soon whether we're ready for her or not. Or him. I still don't really know. I just like to think of her as a girl.

While I'm really happy about the way things are going with my little family, I have to tell you that I'm still pretty upset about how things are going with my brother and his family. Last time I updated all of you on the situation with Michael and Rommie, they were in a pretty bad place. I wish I could say everything's fixed and they're all doing better but, unfortunately, I can't. Michael has officially moved out, although he still comes over just about every day to see Jack, Cleo and Lucy.

As you might well imagine, Rommie is in a predicament right now because she doesn't have any income of her own. Michael's using his money to pay his share of the rent at his new place and to pay for all the incidental items like food, personal care products and bus fare. I don't know if he's giving Rommie very much of his pay cheque. Rommie thinks she's going to have to look for a job, which is a problem in itself because then she'll need to find child care, too. It's okay for Sini to baby sit sometimes, but I put my foot down when Rommie suggested that Sini could watch all the kids every day. I don't think it's fair to expect Sini to look after three toddlers and an infant as well as Cassie and Pax, not to mention our new baby when she comes. Rommie was annoyed with me, I think, but I couldn't help that. I love Rommie and my nieces and nephew, but my priority is to take care of Sini and our kids.

Sini thinks I should talk to Michael again, but I think Michael is done talking about his marriage. He'll have a conversation with me on just about any subject except that one. Besides, I have no idea what I could say to Michael that he doesn't know already. Our parents raised us to be responsible, and part of being responsible means doing what's best for your family. Michael doesn't need me to tell him that.

And while we're on the subject of Michael, I should let you know that he had his eye surgery this past Tuesday. I went with him to the hospital, just as I'd promised, and I didn't tell Rommie what was going on. I wanted to, but when I explained it all to Sini, she seemed to think it would be better if Rommie didn't find out about it from me. The surgery went well according to Michael's doctor, and she is cautiously optimistic. He has to go back and see her for regular monthly checkups for a while. He's not too happy about that, but I told him that I thought it was a pretty small sacrifice, all things considered.

Michael isn't the only one who's had his turn with doctors during the last couple of months, either. Remi is having a really hard time adjusting to his first Canadian winter, and he seems to have been fighting off one minor illness after another since the middle of October. Cold, flu, sore throat, ear infection...you name it. It's becoming clear to everyone around here that Remi isn't a fan of winter and that he absolutely hates snow. He might even hate snow as much as Pax does, but at least Pax doesn't have to go out if he doesn't want to. Remi found a job at a menswear store in the mall, so he has to go out every day whether he wants to or not.

Xander says Remi looks twice his normal size after he's done putting on all his layers of clothing every morning. Sini secretly laughs at him, something for which I've admonished her. I've reminded her that not everyone loves winter as much as she does. She's been known to take off practically all her clothes, go outside and roll around in a snowdrift. For somebody from a warm planet, she seems to enjoy snow quite a lot. She says it's a sensual experience. Maybe so, but it's not one I'm personally willing to try.

Like Remi, I've had my own round of medical issues since October. I was really sick early in November and missed over a week of school and a few shifts at work. I swear it was the worst bout of gastroenteritis that I've ever had. I was in an absolutely mind-numbing amount of pain, and I couldn't even swallow water and manage to keep it down. My doctor admitted me to the hospital because he said I was dangerously dehydrated. For some stupid and utterly inexplicable reason, I didn't want to stay in the hospital even though I knew I needed to be there but, fortunately for me, no amount of desperate begging on my part could convince Dr. Cho to let me suffer through my illness at home.

I was in the hospital for three days, which brings my grand total of days in hospital for 2013 up to seven. That's pretty good, considering I accumulated nearly a month of days in the hospital in 2011. My goal in life is to have a hospital-free year. I wonder if that'll ever happen?

It took me a while to recover fully from the reason for my latest hospital visit. I lost a lot of weight while I was sick and, believe me, my body can't really afford to lose more than a couple of kilograms. Even after I came home and was able to go back to work and school, I was still really tired all the time. But...enough about that. I'm feeling a lot better now, and it's a good thing that I am, because I have a million and one things to do before MY BIRTHDAY PARTY tomorrow night!!!

Yes! I really am having a birthday party after all.  It's a couple of days before my actual birthday, but nobody was really into the idea of having a major party on a Monday night, so Saturday it is.  Sapphire said it was okay, as long as she didn't have to do anything except show up to it. She's busy at work right now and she's getting ready to go away for Christmas, so she hasn't really got time for party planning. Dylan and Beau were only too happy to help and, much to my surprise, so was Xander. I think Remi might've talked Xander into it, but you're not going to hear me complaining as long as Xander is helping out. Sini is helping too, although I told her she doesn't have to. She hasn't been feeling very energetic lately and I don't want her to overtire herself.

Michael is invited to the party, since it's his birthday too, but he says he hasn't decided whether he's coming or not. I think I'll be disappointed if he doesn't come. Even if he fails to make an appearance, though, I plan to enjoy myself anyway.

Another one of our big projects this weekend was supposed to have been to decorate for Christmas, but Sapphire says she doesn't want us to do that until after the party. We'll probably start working on the Christmas stuff on Sunday. Yeah...it's going to be a wild couple of days.

As always, I'll do my best to keep you guys in the loop.