"I don't make suman!"

I have a funny story that will go miles in explaining why I do not totally embrace my Filipino culture: I get it from my mom.

When I picked up the boys from my parents' house yesterday, we were talking about what I was making and bringing to the Fall Around the World Festival. Here's how the conversation went...

"I have banana leaves to wrap the suman."

Real banana leaves?

"Well, they're frozen, but, yes, they're real."

Green banana leaves?!?

"Yes! What do you wrap suman in?"

I don't make suman.

A Hunt for Red Pants

Tomorrow is the Fall Festival for which we're toting in samples of at least three Filipino dishes, bamboo sticks, a sungka board and 70 little glass beads - plus extras in case curious, eager fingers walk away with a few - a Filipino story book, a cookbook, and whatever else the boys dream up before tomorrow afternoon.









I had thought that we would be going in barong tagalogs, etc., but Riley has other ideas. So, tonight, we'll be hunting high and low for red pants.

"Mom, remember the dance troupe from the Philippines where the dance originated? They wore red pants. I need to find red pants."

Alrighty then. Tonight: a hunt for red pants!

It Came on the Boat

While Riley is going to teach people how to do the tinikling at the Fall Festival, Dylan wanted to be in charge of teaching people how to play sungka.

Sungka is the Filipino version of mancala. In Java it's Dakon, Chonka in Sri Lanka, and Naranj in the Maldives. Same idea: rocks or shells and holes. I guess its simplicity makes it something that people all around the world would have been able to easily create and play.

The great thing about this game is that it's actually a board from the Philippines. Nonna carried it with her when she came to this country on a boat.

Traditionally it's played with cowry shells. We decided to use glass beads.

Filipino by Marriage

When Dylan, Riley, and I had - largely - mastered the tinikling, Riley announced, "Daddy, time for you to learn. You are Filipino by marriage, you know." Jake dutifully shut down his computer, came over to the living room, and looked dubiously at the sticks on the ground.

I don't know why I'm so scared of those sticks, but I am!

But he finally got the hang of it and was tiniklinging with the rest of us Filipinos! One hundred percent participation from the Mann Clan. Love it! Next up...sungka.

The Sting of Bamboo

It all started with a challenge for the boys' school Fall Festival and a trip to the Filipino store. Then we stopped at the craft store to get cardstock and Riley found some bamboo sticks. "Mom," he gushed, excitedly, "I want to learn how to do the tinikling. Can we get these for the Festival?" Ummm...

As always, if my kids want to learn something, I support it. So, the sticks went into the shopping cart. And when we got home, he logged into YouTube and found different clips of actual Filipino people doing the dance. There were some that were incredibly complex; I told him to stick to the basics.

After a little while, he handed me this... In case you can't tell what it is, it's a foot diagram of where I'm supposed to put my feet so they don't get smacked by the bamboo. Yeah, right. I can't read that!

Then he demonstrated the steps with stationary sticks...

Then he showed us the rhythm of the sticks...without any dancers...

Dylan practiced, under Riley's watchful eye...

And, then, we had some fun with it. The funniest thing ever: Riley, declared, as I danced between the sticks, avoided the sting of the bamboo, and swirled my dress around as I moved, "Mom, you really are Filipino!"

I think we're just about ready for next weekend. Stay tuned.

Christmas Card Evolution

Here's the evolution of Christmas cards in our family: When Jake and I were dating I used to handwrite cards and include a printed newsletter of all of our adventures for the year. As a double-income couple with no real bills, our adventures were fantastic.

After we married, most of our expendable income was put into our home rennovation, so I still handwrote the cards and included a printed newsletter about our projects.

When we had our first son, I think all I managed was a newsletter with printed labels on the envelope. Then we had our second son, a mere eighteen months later, and life has never been the same since; because Dylan was born two days before Christmas, I don't think I even managed to get anything out. I think I sent out Valentines' Day cards that year.

Somewhere along the line I moved to emailing our Christmas letters. This year, I will still email the holiday newsletters, but I decided to create cards for mailing as well. I turned to shutterfly.com and couldn't be happier. It was so easy. A few clicks here, a few clicks there. And - like magic - our Christmas cards are on their way.

Yes, I know it's not even October, but I am, after all, a serial planner.

A funny story about a few of these pictures: We were out at our favorite hiking spot and Jake said, "Should we take our Christmas card pictures today? It's a beautiful day." True, but I hadn't planned on it and we were all in clashing colors. My solution: turn everything black and white! Done deal, baby.

Stationery card

View the entire collection of cards.

Dylan's Responsibilities

Dylan's first project of the year involves discovering his learning style and exploring his responsibilities - to his family, to his school, to his community, and to his world.

And because he's the second child, he - for the most part - fends for himself. Sad, but true. Parents can say that they treat their kids the same. They're lying...or they are super-heroes that have my complete and utter admiration.

So, I didn't take a look at his planning sheet until he was all done. I have to admit, my heart swelled with pride, when I read what he had written. For his responsibilities to his community...

• CSA box
• beach clean up
• support local parks

I love that he sees these as his responsibility to his community! Hopefully that means that he'll walk the walk, even when he's away from our watchful eyes.