How low can you go?

Malia's in a weird spot with her diapers. She's outgrown her size 3 Huggies Supremes lengthwise but a Huggies size 4 would have to be wrapped around her little waist and fastened by her hips. Ideally I'd like to purchase a size 3.5 Huggies -- and wouldn't have this blog post at all.

Maybe it's a Huggies issue so I bought a package of size 3 Pampers Cruisers. Here's the thing about diapers: despite what they print on the package about weight and sizing, not all diapers are created equal in terms of fit.

The Pampers are way huge on Malia -- it's huge all around. I really have to wrap that sucker around her to keep it on and it sags to her knees because she's got no hips and no waist (as in: no chub) for the thing to cling to. But the saggy-ness is OK because it's winter time and she's wearing onesies under everything and (thank god) she hasn't figured out how to unsnap the bottom snaps yet. The onesies play a dual role on Malia: it keeps her warm and it keeps her diaper on (reasons #87 and #121 why I like onesies).

Last night I was solo parenting and it was time for the kids' shower. Kael was already in and I just had to get Malia undressed (ha! easier said than done). I chased her down and took off her top. As her head popped out, she took off before I could strip off another layer of clothing. I catch her again and I take off her fleece pants and smell... something. But before I can discern what that smell is, she runs away again. It's now a game she's determined to win. I tackle her, pin her down and wrestle the onesie off her when I pinpoint the smell: a poopy diaper. I couldn't smell it before because of the fleece pants. But just in case, I stand her up to look down her backside. Dumb Mom Mistake #43: Never stand them up so they can run away when you really want them down. So I've got the onesie in my right hand and I fumble for her with my left but she manages to wiggle away (an easy task since she's barely a peanut of a baby) and takes off down the hall. The problem is without the onesie, the diaper sags. So my question: if a diaper sags when it's empty, how low can it go when it's got poop in it??

Answer: really really low. So low I could see crack. A distressing amount of crack.

I yell out: No Malia no!! Come back! Stop running!

She of course pays me no regard and takes off even faster. She's a really cute runner because everything moves: her arms flap, her knees don't bend so her legs are kind of stilty and her whole body bounces side to side. It's really cute. But it does no good when the diaper is barely hanging on.

Last night as I watched the poop laden diaper slip lower and lower down her backside as she ran away from me, I had a very real fear that:

1. it was going to completely fall off her hips and I'd have, well, shit everywhere;
   
   
2. in the process of losing her diaper, she'd trip and fall; and
   
   
3. being a Mai Baby, there'd be a 99.9% chance that she'd fall right into her poop, smearing it everywhere, thus making it go from "easy pickings nuggets" to "smeared into the carpet fiber skid marks."

All this flashed across my mind in a span of 3 seconds -- the amount of time it took for me to lunge at her, grab her arm to stop her running, and put my hand under the diaper.

Just in time to catch it as it finally broke loose.

B-I-N-G-O and bingo was my name-o!

What a great trip up north. A little cold but still a great trip. I have to say though, it's good to be home. As we ate our last meal with my family, my sister asked: "Aren't you coming back in a month? For Christmas?"

Oh yeah.. that's right. We ARE coming back! To which she responded: "Huh. So we've only got a month to recover from this visit. That's not much time."

Ouch. Nice one.

Anyway, so last I left you, we were at the park waiting for Malia to head dive into duck poop. Luckily she didn't. But she did come close to getting chased down by some geese. There was a stare down contest where both parties (baby and 3 geese) refused to budge: Malia not understanding why these "ducks" weren't running away when chased and the geese debating the merits of wasting their precious energy to chase down and peck the hell out of this little person. Luckily (for Malia as I would have laid down $20 on the geese) some kids came along with bread crumbs and the geese abandoned their potential victim in favor of food.

Wednesday we took Jarod (my 7 year old nephew) with us to the Kids Discovery Museum. They had a great time and left there soaking wet. I managed to convince the kids to hit all the other displays before doing the water works last. Good thinking on my part as Malia ending up drenched despite wearing a vinyl apron. We capped off the day by giving the kids their choice of where they wanted to eat, and it was unanimous: McDonald's. They requested a McDonald's with a playground and while I'm all for tiring them out for naps, I dreaded the playground. Malia's not big enough to go up unassisted but she's big enough to want to follow the boys. So that left me to wiggle my way up the tubes, around the tunnels and down the slide. Several times. I left good old McDonald's with the thought: On our Christmas trip back north, the kids don't get to pick the lunch place.

Thursday was of course Thanksgiving and it was a great day. We spent all morning cooking and the house smelled calorie-rich. We had about 30 people over and it was a noisy, crowded and confused affair. Ahhh, I miss family gatherings!

At the end of the meal, we always play Bingo. I know, it sounds strange but it's a family tradition. Since I don't usually have Thanksgiving at home (it's always spent with the Mai side) this was the first time in 5 years since I did Thanksgiving with my family. We also do Christmas bingo but it's not as big -- not as many aunts, uncles and cousins as we get with the Thanksgiving crowd. You pay $0.50 per game and the first 5 games you win door prizes. The last game is for the big pot of money. This year the pot was $69 so it's a nice pot. Just let me tell you: Truong and I never win. Never. We pay to play but we don't get anything out of it so I've sort of given up on hoping to win and just play to be a part of the festivities. This year though, Truong was determined to win: he put in $12. Or as he said it: he's "invested" $12. Sure whatever, sucker.

So we're all playing - there's about 15 of us playing so it got pretty... intense at times. I don't know how old people play bingo - it's so stressful. I was so tense waiting for my number to be called, knowing that my cousin Danny also needed only one or two more to win, knowing that we had $12 invested in these games. And it's completely a game of luck, no skill is involved so you're totally at the mercy of the ball cage. Like I said: it's a very stressful game.

The first winner was my niece Amelie (age 5). She got to pick from a pile of wrapped prizes. No one knew what the prizes were - so it was a crap shoot. Being 5, she of course picked the biggest box and upon the unwrapping, it was discovered that she won.... a toaster oven! It was hilarious. Somehow, Truong won the third game: a rice cooker. And I won two games: a hot air popcorn machine and another rice cooker. It was our lucky night. What the hell were we going to do with 2 rice cookers and a popcorn machine, who knows. All that matters is that we won.

Then the big game: the pot of money. Or in our house: the bowl of money. It was decided we were going to play black-out, where we have to get every single number blacked out to win. Being bingo novices, Truong and I strategized wrong: we blew a lot of games on trying to win the door prizes when we should have saved some for the money. Doesn't matter: I still had 6 games and Truong had 4 games to try to win. It was a long game since everyone had between 6-12 games to check off numbers. (Yes, we have a competitive family.) It came very close, with the request to call out UNO if you had only only number left. It came down to me and my sister.

And the winning call: B-3

I screamed out BINGO a split second before my sister. I clearly was the winner despite disgruntled parties demanding a re-count of my game card. I also had to talk down demands for arm-wrestling with my sister since we both won. Turns out she actually won before me but missed out on a number (it was called but she didn't check it off) so she kept on playing. But Truong's and my argument: you snooze, you lose! There was a lot of love that night at the table. After some more arguing, it was decided that I won and I came home with a wallet stuffed full of $1's, $5's and a couple of $10's.

I can see how gambling can become so addictive. One of these holidays I'm expecting the Gaming Authority to come knocking down our door.

Thanksgiving Trip - Part I

So here we are, freezing our butts off in the Bay Area. It's cold here. Really cold. Five years in Southern California has really thinned out my skin. It doesn't help that my mom likes to keep all the windows open, regardless of the weather. We woke up to the house at just above freezing.

OK. Maybe that's an exaggeration. But still... 60 degrees in the morning, indoors is close enough to freezing water for me. I cranked up the heater to a comfortable 68 and everyone complained about how hot the house was. Hello! They are all dressed up like eskimos with 4 layers plus a jacket. AND my mom actually had on mittens. Sheesh.

Sunday was spent at the San Fransico Zoo where we (with my sister's family) met up with our college friend Jimmy Ip and his family. It was great seeing them as it had been a while since we saw them in person as opposed to chatting in cyberspace. Jimmy and Emily also have 2 kids, just a bit younger than ours: Audrey is 3.5 years old and Brian is 13 months. However, since we both had 2 kids to handle, we didn't get a chance to really chat and catch up. We spent more time catching up to the kids as they all sort of scattered in different directions once we entered the park. Kael was a stroller hound and didn't want to walk but felt right at home being the backseat driver. Malia refused the ride in the stroller so getting from Point A to Point B took a really long time. I really liked that she wanted to walk everywhere but after exploring every single leaf, every single twig, and every single spot of bird poop on the ground in front of her, I just wanted to be able to head a clear direction, somewhere. Anywhere.

The kids went full speed ahead at the zoo and konked out almost immediately on the car ride home. It was nice to see actual sleeping kids. It gave me hope that they still had that ability.

On Monday and Tuesday we spent the day at my sister's house in Fremont. Monday we went to a really cool indoor water playground complete with slides, playground pool equipment, etc. It's hard to explain, but try to imagine a Wild Rivers or Raging Waters type set-up, but indoors. And for just $7. It was really neat. The kids loved it and despite the water not being heated (burrr!) they didn't want to get out. Malia would come to me to dry off and warm up, wrapped in a baby burrito, and then fight her way out of the towel to jump back in the pool to Truong. The pool was only 3' deep so it was perfect for Kael and his cousins. We finally dragged the kids out after a couple of hours (when I noticed Malia's lips were turning blue!) and we headed back to my sister's for naps and dinner.

Tuesday Truong ended up renting a car to head into Walnut Creek for work so I drove back to my sister's so the kids could spend another day together. Single momming is hard enough at home but doing it while not on my home turf is even worse. We decided to take the kids to the park to have a picnic lunch and to let them blow off steam at the playground. I packed lunches for both my kids and my sister asked why didn't I pack one for me. I told her I wouldn't have time to eat it. She looked puzzled but didn't push. We get to the park and set up the picnic. Jarod and Collin (her boys) sit down quietly and start eating their lunch. Kael is jumping around, kicking up the blanket, tracking shoe prints all over and knocking plates over. Malia takes off down the hill towards the pond where about 100 ducks, geese and seagulls are hanging out. Think about how much poop a 100 birds make and you'll understand why I dropped everything and raced off after her. Plus it was downhill so she started picking up speed and momentum. I didn't want her to face plant in a nice squishy mound of bird poo. I snatch her back and got Kael to sit down long enough to start lunch before she took off again. And that was pretty much how the picnic lunch went: reminding Kael to eat in between chasing down Malia. My sister watched our comedy act and said: "OK I see why you didn't pack a lunch. I don't think you should have three kids. The two you have now can't sit still and there's no way you could do three unless you grew another set of arms."

For once, I have to agree with her, 100%.

Sleepless in San Jose

We made it to the Bay Area in record time: a mere 5 hours. Our August trip up went so well that we repeated the 3:00am departure for this trip.

But this time, it didn't go so well.

Sure we made great time. But Malia didn't sleep at all. At. All. She woke up when we put her in the car at 3:10am but that was expected. What wasn't expected was her staying awake the entire trip. She was still up at 4:30am, and proceeded to cry until 5:00am. At 4:30am I made the mistake of climbing into the back to fix Kael's head -- it fell so far forward in his sleep that I was worried he'd end up with a permanent crick in his neck. I also needed my pillow so I could catch some zzz's. When I climbed back into the front seat, Malia fell apart and the crying commenced (she was in a dazed coma from 3:10am until 4:30am). Amazingly, Kael stayed asleep the entire 30 minutes of her aria. At 5:05am the crying was reduced to a constant "ughh, ughhh, ughhh", clearly indicating to me that her brain was not connected to her mouth: she was asleep but still "crying". Finally she fell asleep a few minutes later but woke up at 5:50am and stayed awake until naptime at 10:00am. It was a rough day for her.

But it was not over. We attempted a 2nd nap at 2:00pm with her since she had gotten so little sleep the trip up. I know I've said this before but I'll say it again: I hate co-sleeping with Malia. Absolutely hate it. I like the concept of sleeping and cuddling with her but executing it is a nightmare times a million. She wiggles, she squirms, she thrashes, she tries to escape and most of all (or worst of all) she likes to be plugged in. All night. If it wasn't for the holidays and all the traveling we're doing, I'd wean her. Now. As it stands, her night starts off great as she gets to sleep next to her milk on tap but the nightmare begins when she finds out 10 minutes later the bar's locked up for the night. The entire night. Again, Kael sleeps though it all. That boy amazes me sometimes.

As I struggled to put her down without giving in to her demand for another milk hit, I was seeing in my mind the next 7 days and nights. That's 7 more naps and 7 more bedtimes. I felt another handful of gray hairs pop out of my head. At 3:30pm (90 minutes of her eyes at half mast, nearing falling asleep then jerking herself awake) I lost it. I handed her off to Truong, snarled at him "I'm going to Walmart, buying a Pack-N-Play and sticking her ass in the closet tonight" and stalked out of the room. Truong accepted his daughter, wisely without saying anything.

I was gone for 30 minutes and came home with a PNP. She's never slept in a PNP before and let me tell you, I wasn't going to give her a choice. Never let it be said that I'm not a woman of my word: I set the thing up in the closet and there she slept. In the closet. In my defense, it's a huge closet - about 10'x10' - so it's more like a room. Just a room that contains a lot of clothing. I was pleasantly surprised when she only cried hard for 30 minutes before falling asleep. And after we cleaned a poopy diaper that we discovered at 10:00pm, she stayed asleep the entire night. And tonight, she fussed for less than 5 minutes. What a good girl!

I can't tell you how relieved I am to have this huge problem resolved. I love visiting my family but Malia's sleeping arrangements have always given me heartburn. Now I have hope that I can actually remember my vacation without being in a sleep stupor.

Unfortunately in our haste to leave Orange County, we left all of Kael's animals (his sleep buddies) at home. He's been asking for them at night.

Great. Just great.

It's a Mommy Thing

I went to Target Tuesday to purchase... err... a Feminine Personal Product (FPP). It's been a while since I needed any and in my absence it seems as if the FPP market exploded. The variety is mind boggling and call me simple if you wish, but I couldn't distinguish the difference between the Regular and the Sports version. I just grabbed a box and threw it in the cart and headed for home.

My first phone call was to Shana to see if she knew the difference. Nope.
Erin? Nope.

When Truong came home, I even showed him the box and asked him if he saw a difference. In my quest to find the answer to Regular vs. Sport, I unintentionally (more like foolishly) waved the box in front of Kael. That of course opened the flood gates:

Kael: What's that Mommy?
Truong and I shared a looked of "Oh god, what have I done?" Well, Truong's was more like "Ha-ha, let's see you answer that one." I play the Let's Ignore Him and Maybe He'll Change The Subject game. I'm not so lucky.

Kael: MOMMY! What's in the box?

Me: Umm. It's for Mommy.
That's another one of my games: Be Vague. It's successful about 10% of the time.

Kael: What's it for?

Me: It's just for Mommy, honey. Please eat your dinner.

Kael: What do you do with it?

Truong: Yes, Mommy. What do you do with it?
If looks could harm and maim, Truong would have been writhing on the kitchen floor.

I'm quiet, trying to think of an answer. In the meantime, Kael realizes he's hit the motherlode and continues to ask: What's it for? Where do you put it? What do you do with it? Huh, Mom, huh? HUH??

I interrupt him and tell him "Let's call Ms. Shana and ask her!" Shana usually comes up with pretty good answers and even though the DiDodo truth can be distressing at times (remember "Kael, your silkworms are DEAD"?) it's still better than my dodge and evade tactics.

So we call Shana:
Me: Hey Shana, Kael's got a question for you.

Shana: (pause) Okkaaayyy.
She clearly knows something's up.

Me: Remember my purchase at Target today and I asked you about Regular vs. Sport? Well, I showed Truong the box and Kael saw it.

Shana: Well, why'd you show it in front of Kael? You know he's going to ask about it! You should have waited until later!
Thanks, Shana. Tell me something I don't already know. And that's not helping me in the least!!

Me: (trying to be patient because Kael is listening with great interest) Well, at any rate... now he wants to know what it's used for. Can you answer him, please?

Shana: (longer pause) Oh god. I don't want to answer that! Just tell him it's for Mommies Only!

Me: I already told him that and he's not buying it. He's asking what's it for, what do I do with it, and where does it go.

Shana: Oh geez. Hold on, let me ask Patrick.

Me: NONONO! DON'T ASK PATRICK! DON'T ASK PATRICK!!
But does she ever listen to me?

Shana: Hey, Hon! Sonya bought a box of [FPP's] and Kael's asking about it. What should she tell him?
I'm on the other line, holding my head in my hands, thinking: Why me? I can't believe she shared this with Patrick.

Patrick: Just tell him it's a Mommy Band-Aid.
Huh. That was a pretty good answer, actually. I was quite floored.

Patrick: Ask them if they want to go for ice cream.

What a great idea. If we met up with the DiDodo's, Kael could ask to his heart's content, face to face and I wouldn't have to field the questions on my own. So we all meet at Baskins and get our ice cream. Kael hadn't brought it up yet, but I knew once we got home, there's a good chance that his memory would kick in and the embarrassing questions would come up again. So I remind him to ask Ms. Shana about The Box. Ryan and Kael are both there, staring at Shana very intently. I've never seen the boys so focused, so riveted. Sure, we can talk letters and numbers, and manners and rules, until the cows come home but do they ever pay attention? No. We talk about FPP's and all of a sudden, they're all ears.

Shana: It's something just for Mommies. Only Mommies use them.
The boys are hanging on to her every word, mouths slightly hanging open.

Shana: It's... a Mommy Thing.
I mouth to her Mommy Thing?! And roll my eyes to the back of my head. But she says it with such confidence that I see the boys nodding their heads.

And then Ryan turns to me and says, very seriously: Ms. Sonya. It's a Mommy Thing.
And nods his head like as if to say that's that!

So the lesson I learned that night: It's not what you say that matters. It's how you say it.

School Pictures - Take II

So we re-took Kael's school pictures. One friend said he looked half-baked. Another said orange isn't the new black. And still another said he looked like he was caught with his pants down - a deer in the headlights kind of look.

Picture #1

Never let it be said that I can't take a hint. I opted to turn in the original set and chanced taking a new picture. I made sure I left Kael with the instructions to open his eyes wide and smile nice and big. I changed his shirt to a nice button down, light green plaid Quicksilver shirt (courtesy of Ryan Di Dodo). I even combed his hair and sprayed some detangler on it. I asked his teacher Mrs. Morin to please make sure he stays presentable. You know... make sure his collar's straight, his shirt is buttoned, his hair isn't sticking up at odd angles, the usual stuff. She said that the picture people take care of that and since there's not as many kids retaking, they should have more time to fix the kids up.

Picture #2

So what do you think?

By the way, Kael's favorite color is orange, hence the orange shirt last year and this year. What happened this year is he wanted to wear his favorite shirt: a blindingly bright tie-dye straight from the '60's, "peace, love and bongs" t-shirt. I unequivocally said NO. We have 5 polo shirts in various shades of blue, gray, and olive green, and one orange, that he was allowed to choose from. He selected the orange.

I felt I had to explain why Kael wore orange two years in a row as that was the most asked question in regards to the school pictures. Sheesh.

Random Weekend Pictures

Here are 3 pictures from the weekend of the Mai's.

Yes. Just three.

I had my camera but forgot to take pictures. I should have taken a picture of Malia when she tried to lose her eye on the corner of the fridge. She left a nice huge dent on her forehead that came extremely close to hitting her eye. Amazingly she didn't get a goose-egg or bruise the next day. I knew that it hurt because she kept rubbing her face but the next day you couldn't even tell where it was.

Thai eating dinner. Nice smile!

Kael eating dinner. Another nice smile.

Left to right:
Kael, Truong, Ingrid, Trieu (red shirt), Robert, Thai, Thao (+baby#2), Hobbes the dog, Thien, Ronan the sumo-baby, Maureen, Sonya, Malia and Grandma.

The Crazy Box-Tops Lady

That's what people are going to call me.

Since getting involved with this program at school, I've been very cognizant of buying Box Tops products. In fact, I'm so aware of Box Tops that I found myself looking through my mother-in-law's stuff at her house and cutting them out this weekend. As if that wasn't bad enough, I also went through my sibling-in-law's stuff and cut them out too. And they were here just visiting, for crying out loud! I already know I'm going to rummage through my mom's stuff and my sister's stuff when we head up north for Thanksgiving, like a homeless person rummaging through the trash for a can.

Tonight, though, I took it one step further. Even I'm a little embarrassed. But it's compulsive now. Like an addiction to gambling: just one more time and I'll make it big, then I'll stop. But that big jack pot -- or in this case: a big pile of Box Tops coupons -- keeps tempting me, beckoning me to cut them out.

I went to buy diapers today and as it turns out my friend Erin also needed a box. I offered to buy her one and did so. We both use Huggies, which as everyone knows is a Box Top product (I'm shocked my co-coordinator SHANA DI DODO is still using Pampers -- tsk, tsk). Anyway, as a good friend I dropped the box off at her house on my way to meet Truong for dinner with the kids. I failed to tell her that I very neatly and cleanly snipped off her Box Top coupon. After I triumphantly held the coupon in my hands -- and saw the hole I made in the diaper box, I was horrified at what I had done. I can't believe I cut a hole in her box of brand new diapers.

What kind of person am I becoming? To go around and clip these little purple coupons off other people's stuff?!

Crazy, that's who. I'm becoming the Crazy Box Tops Lady.

She's so... cute!

We just finished a weekend full of family. The Mai's (all of them) converged in Orange County and hung out: Thien, Maureen and Ronan from Sacramento, Trieu and Ingrid from Santa Cruz, and Thao, Robert, and Thai also from Santa Cruz.

Kael was in absolute heaven playing with cousin Thai and all his uncles. Malia was her usual social butterfly so I couldn't tell if she knew the significance of all these people at Grandma's house. It had been several months since everyone saw her so while she was still the same size, her personality has really come through. Ronan (the new baby at 3 months old) is fast approaching her in size and will most likely outweigh her in a few weeks. He's a mere 3 pounds off and they are 15 months apart in age. However, in Malia's defense, that baby is a tank and a half! If there was ever a sumo-baby title, he'd be in the ranking. His calves are the size of her thighs.

One thing did keep coming up that I thought was pretty funny in a backhanded sort of way: People kept saying about Malia "She's so cute!" and "She's really cute!" and my favorite "I can't believe how cute she is!" And while that's something all mothers want to hear of their child, it was said in such a wow, I can't believe it's not butter kind of way, that it made me think: gosh, are Truong and I really that awful looking that it's unbelievable we could produce such a fine looking child?! My sister said the same thing too: she didn't expect Malia to be so cute as most babies aren't cute when they're young. So she was really surprised Malia turned out to be so cute.

What?!! OK whatever. That's fine. People think my child is cute and that's all I'm going to focus on. I did however remind Truong that Malia takes after me so it must be HIM that they're astonished about.

Good bye... and good luck.

Truong goes to work at 6:30am every morning. Some mornings he leaves earlier -- around 5:00am -- if he's got meetings out of town and needs to drive there, to catch a plane, etc. One to two nights out of the week he manages to come home by 7:00, 7:30pm but usually it's later. That makes for long days for him.

What do my days look like? In the past, Malia woke up between 6:30am and 7:00am. I have to wake Kael up by 7:00am if we're going to make it to school. With the time change, she's been waking up at 5:30am so mornings can get pretty brutal. Get the kids ready, feed them breakfast, pack a lunch for Kael, drop him off at school, and run errands with Malia until it's time to pick Kael up. We head home to eat lunch then the kids nap. During their nap I make dinner and clean the house. They wake up and usually we head to park. But it's getting dark early so I have to find other things for them to do before dinner (the library is a hit but I'm waiting to get banned as Malia doesn't have the best library etiquette). Then dinner, play some more, bathtime, jammies, books and bed. So my day starts at 5:30am (maybe earlier, maybe later) and run until 8:30pm, when Kael's in bed. Oh wait, then I have to clean the dinner mess. So I have long days too.

This morning Malia woke up at 5:40am. Crying. Pretty unusual as she's generally a happy waker. She's not wailing crying; she's whining crying. When you have kids, you'll get what I mean. So I leave her -- she's just whining, after all. My rule is I don't pick her up until 7:00am, unless she's wailing crying then something is drastically wrong and I'll get her sooner. My (false?) hope is that she'll get bored of waiting for me and fall back asleep, thus creating a new habit of waking up later. Makes sense, right? Unfortunately it hasn't worked in 18 months but a girl can still hope.

So she's whining and whining. I'm trying to burrow under my pillow to muffle the sound and get some more sleep but it's just not working. Truong drags himself out of bed and gets ready for work. Finally at 6:08am I can't stand it anymore and ask him to bring her into bed with me. As he gets her out of her crib, I hear Kael talking in his room on the monitor.

Crikey! What the heck are both my kids doing up before 6:15am?!

Truong brings her into bed, she latches on like a leech and I tell him that his son is awake. So he goes and gets Kael. Kael comes running in and jumps in bed and starts messing with Malia. She is not appreciative of his antics and tries to swat him away. Truong helps me by trying to convince Kael into the shower. Kael's not going for it but Truong's pretty insistent. In the meantime, Malia is just comfort nursing so I pull away. She's not having any of it and starts to poke me in the chest with her sharp little finger, saying "Want this! Want this!" Actually, what she says is: "want dis, want dis!" It's kind of cute. But she's serious and starts to get angry. The shower battle between Truong and Kael starts to heat up, resulting in Kael throwing attitude and lip at us. But it doesn't matter: in the shower he goes. And boy, is he pissed.

I climb out of bed, Malia sees her milk wagon leaving and in turn also pitches a fit. I pick her up to comfort her and she wants nothing to do with me, since I've got the goods covered. Kael gets out of the shower, still nursing a hissy and continues to give Truong lip. Truong doesn't take any of it and some words are exchanged... suffice it to say that Kael ends up in tears. Not tears of remorse, oh no. They were tears of rage and frustration at not being able to mouth off to us because if he did, he'd be in bigger trouble that he already was. Malia is inconsolable so I simply lay her on the ground to finish her tantrum by herself, which makes it worse because I'm taking away her audience.

So picture this: a pissed off, wet and naked Kael in a royal snit, refusing to do anything we ask him; a raging Malia thrashing on the floor refusing to be picked up; Truong in his work clothes trying to help and trying to stay dry; and me in a sleep stupor, in my jammies with Medusa hair because I went to sleep with it wet. And it's only 6:35am. I magnanimously tell Truong to go to work, I've got it under control. What else can I say? I feel guilty because I know he's going to be late and he's got a lot of work to do and I want him home early because his siblings are coming into town. What I really wanted to say was: "Please don't leave me alone with them!!" but I didn't. I do have some pride and an illusion of being a capable mom.

Truong looks at me, looks at the kids -- and sort of smirks. Then he says to me: "OK honey, good bye.... And good luck." And he leaves. He actually LEAVES!!

Coward.

The Shower Scene

You know how Mom's have that incredible power to read their children and predict their behaviors? How they don't even have to look in the right direction to stop their kids in their tracks with a well-placed "Don't even think about it!"?

I have that power. I have it!! And it's so cool, so satisfying to see that look of "how did she know that?" run across Kael's face.

Truong and I were making our bed as the kids were taking their nighttime shower. It's kind of a long process (the bed-making) as we have several layers to tuck in. In the background is the sound of the shower running, drowned out by the sound of the kids talking and playing. On layer #4, I hear a subtle change in their play. I can't quite describe it. Perhaps it was a change in the pitch of their laughter, a shift in the cadence of their talk. Just something. So I ran over to make sure everything was OK, that Malia was still standing, that Kael wasn't giving her soapy water to drink to "wash her mouth" or feeding her the bar of soap in lieu of toothpaste. I whipped open the shower door, looked in, called to Truong: "Honey, come here quick! QUICK!!" and hustled off to grab my camera.

A little of this...

A little of that....

And *voile* - the masterpiece!

I asked Kael what he was doing and he said he was "fixing her hair." And then he laughed. But not in a nice way. It was more in an evil heh-heh way, full of the knowledge that we were all laughing at her and he was reveling in it.

It was freaking hilarious.

18 month stats

Soo.... we had our 18 month well-baby visit today. It's hard to believe my little peanut is 18 months old. By this age with Kael I was really getting the baby itch. This time around, I'm not so itchy and I have to contribute that to Malia being so small that I still see her as a baby. I didn't even pack away her Halloween shirts because I know she'll still fit into them next year. I've already got her winter holiday shirts out from last year out and yup, they still fit. In fact, they fit better this year than they did last year. At least I'm really getting my money's worth out of her clothes.

Back to her appointment:
Weight - 16lbs, 15oz
Length - 30 inches (they think - she was pretty squirrely and put up a huge fight so it was hard to get an accurate reading)

On the positive side, she's not losing weight. On the negative side, she's not gaining much. She's sort of plateaued in her growth.

However, since she made several successful attempts to escape the exam room, streak down the hallway, and made it all the way to the waiting room in nothing but her diaper with me in hot pursuit, the Dr. said he's pretty confident that she's healthy and he's not too worried. Just keep feeding her healthy stuff (I obviously didn't tell him about our dinner last night) and she'll eat what she eats.

On the home front, she's shown an interest in the potty and has actually gone in there a few times. I was very excited and while I'm not pushing her at all, the potty is now out and on prominent display. She likes it so much that she will drag it from room to room. It's truly her little throne.

The problem is once I get her diaper off to use the potty, she won't let me put the diaper back on (from the look of things, both my kids are natural nudists). She doesn't totally get using the potty yet (the times she's done it is because I got her to sit on it every 2 minutes) so I've had to clean a few accidents already. It's too cold to run around pantless and quite honestly, I'm just not ready to start the training process. So I go back and forth on it. Unfortunately, training undies aren't made in her size. The smallest I've found starts at size 24 months (or 22lbs.) so we'd have to do bare-naked training.

In the winter. Burr!

Oh Tomato, how I love you so!

Your skin is so red and your flesh so firm. I love how your seeds tickle my tongue and run down my chin. You leave a wonderful stain on my clothes... to remind me of your sweet taste, until the next time we meet.

That's Malia's current favorite food: the Tomato.

We feasted on Taco Bell last night -- that's what happens when Dad goes out of town: the orphaned family dines out. She ate her bean burrito fine... until she saw the tomato bits on my taco. At least I hope they were tomatoes. They looked like tomatoes but hey, we're talking Taco Bell here so it was something tomato-like. At any rate, she refused all other foods after picking apart my taco, fingering her way through to get the tomato bits. After leaving my taco in pieces, she demanded more bits. Luckily I just happened to have one whole tomato left in the fridge. I can't even remember why I had that in there. But it was still nice and firm so I was able to chunk it. And she gobbled it all up. Thus concluded our Sunday night dinner: half a bean burrito and a tomato. I figure the fresh tomato balanced out the bean burrito so we're good.

By the way, if your inner plumbing ever gets clogged up... eat a tomato. Clears it all out by the afternoon nap.

"Mommy, how do people die?"

Friday Kael's school had an in-service day so we decided to hit Disneyland with his friend, Bryan. The boys get along great at school so I was looking forward to seeing how they did together outside in the "real world."

Whenever we go to Disneyland, I'm pretty focused on getting from the parking lot to the gates of the Happiest Place on Earth. There's people slowly meandering about, kids running back and forth, groups of people stopped in the middle of the road -- so it can be a test of patience to get from Point A to Point B. Especially when you're a mom with a double stroller. And you're late.

So there I was, playing Mario Andretti if he was a woman (so would that be Marion Andretti?), weaving the stroller in and out and around people. So focused I was on my course that I at first didn't hear what Kael was saying -- I was just making the appropriate noises: "uh-huh, uh-huh. Yes, sweetie." Finally he says "MOM! I asked you how do people die?"

That certainly got my attention: "What did you say?!"

Kael: "People, Mom. How do they DIE?" with emphasis on the word die.
Oh geez. Are you kidding me? I can't believe we're having this conversation now.

Me, stalling: "Well... sometimes... when people... get sick, they can die."
Oh crap! He was just sick! Keep talking! Say something else!!

Me again: "But they have to be really really REALLY SUPER sick. You've never been that sick. And when people get... into car accidents, sometimes they can die..."
I was trying to find a way to answer his question without freaking him out but there was no real way to do that. He sat quietly in the stroller, thinking his deep thoughts.

Me: "And when people get old, really old, their bodies get tired and they just die."
I thought that was a good one, a safe answer. Not quite warm and fuzzy, but not too scary either.

Kael: "Is Ba [grandma] really old?"
Oh god. Oh. Crap.

Me, quickly answering him: "Oh no! Ba isn't old at all! She's really really young! You don't have to worry about Ba. She's still good. She'll be good for a really long time."

And he didn't say anything else. I'm hoping my answers were adequate... and since it's now Sunday and he hasn't mentioned anything or had any bad dreams, I think we're in the clear. I do notice that he's obsessed with the word "die" and all its different forms. He says it all the time:
"Look mom - there's a worm. And it's dead."
"Drive slow, Dad. I don't want to die."
"What happened to that bee? Is it dying?"
"Mom, Malia's in the stairs again! If she falls down, she's going to die!"

I have to remind myself, it's just a phase, this too shall pass, it's just a phase...

The End of Innocence

Ever since Halloween Kael's been insisting that he can't sleep alone. That his bed is too small. That only my bed fits him. That someone needs to be in his room with him. Very odd behavior coming from a kid who used to kick us out of his room at night.

The day after Halloween, I don't know where we were - possibly in the car as that's where most of the blog-worthy conversations occur - I asked him what happened last night when he woke up scared. He said he had a bad dream: he dreamt that he was in a car that was flying (how this was scary to him I'll never know... personally, I think having a flying car is pretty cool). Anyway he said that he was scared and that he didn't want to be alone in his room anymore. I told him that he wasn't alone (I got a puzzled look that clearly said what are you talking about mom?). I further elaborated my statement: "You have Baby Jaguar and your two dogs with you in bed! They will protect you and keep you safe." He needs to believe that otherwise bedtime is really going to suck for all parties involved.

The puzzled look on his face deepened: "Mom, they are fake!" This was said with a tone that bordered on duh, mom, hello... anyone home?

I was shocked. I didn't know what to say. My mind was whirling at hurricane speed, trying to find a way to salvage his childhood innocence.

Me: "What are you talking about, honey? They will keep you safe and keep the spooky things away." (Notice how I neither deny nor acknowledge his "fake" statement?)

Kael: "But they're fake! They don't move, they don't blink their eyes, they don't even breathe. They aren't real, Mom. They are fake!" It's almost as if he's trying to convince me of that fact.

I didn't know what to say so I just ended the conversation with: "They don't have to move to keep you safe, Kael. Sometimes I don't blink for a long time too." OK, I admit that was pretty lame but I didn't know what else to say.

Isn't four too young to question this stuff?? I thought kids believed in Santa and his sidekick the Easter Bunny until they were eight or so. What went wrong here?!

Halloween 2007

Halloween 2007 -- I was so prepared this year: I had plenty of glow bracelets, they were all prepped, cracked and ready to hand out. The kids were used to wearing their costumes. Kael and I practiced screaming TRICK OR TREAT at the top of our lungs in the car. Malia let me draw her whiskers. The kids took a nice long nap so they were well rested. Truong came home at 4:20pm. We were ready to rock and roll!

I got a call from Erin at 4:40pm to let us know that TorT at the Festival (the shopping mall near us) is way cool and much easier on the kids than the Circle. Since the kids had just woken up, and Truong was home, and it doesn't get dark until 6:30pm, I figured why not? It wouldn't hurt to get some more practice and it'd be nice to get the kids out for a bit. So 15 minutes after Erin called, we were out the door.

We made out like bandits. The merchants at the Festival gave out way better candy than the Circle (we got handfuls from each store) and there were no lines. Kael was comfortable mumbling Trick or Treat and it was a very enjoyable outing. We ran into the Bickmeiers at the end of the loop and as we walked back to the cars, the boys ran around hollering and whooping, having a great time.

We then headed home for dinner (5:45pm). I scrambled to get dinner made for the kids and started getting the bracelets ready when the doorbell rang. Holy cow -- I'm not ready! Turns out it was Sheri, Jeff and Ava (18 months), Truong's co-worker and her family coming over to TorT with our kids. I set them to work on cracking the bracelets while I get dinner for the kids ready. Not that they ate any but in making the effort to have dinner ready, I at least fulfilled my Mom Responsibilities.

The kids set off and I stayed home to pass out the goodies. This year's crowd was pretty disappointing -- we got about half the traffic we got last year (so about 150 kids). But it was still a lot of fun handing out treats and seeing what costumes kids came up with.

I of course forgot to take pictures on the actual night (doh!) but you've already seen the kids' costumes from our first TorT expedition. The costumes didn't change except Kael's got a little dirtier and Malia's tutu got more scrunched.

Kael and Malia had a great time and came home pretty amped up (the lollipop Truong gave her at 7:30pm had nothing to do with it, I'm sure). We had to force feed them dinner and they finally went to bed at 8:30pm (Malia) and 9:20pm (Kael). Kael woke up at 1:00am scared and told us that he couldn't sleep alone. So Truong took the comforter off our bed and bunked on the floor of Kael's bedroom. His alarm went off at 6:00am and I was seriously mad at him for leaving it on. I had a fierce internal debate about whether or not I should haul myself out of bed to wake him or burrow further into my bed and finish off the rest of my sleep. I eventually decided that since he came home early for me to take the kids out last night, I should reciprocate the good deed by waking him up. So I stumbled down the hall to Kael's room where I yanked off his comforter and stumbled back to bed. One good deed deserves another, right?

Oh and my final thought on TorT'ing: I swear parents who walk their kids to the door just do it so they can take a peep inside other people's homes. I can't tell you how many people have commented on our house. The front door opens into our living room which I've converted to a playroom, complete with a giant chalk board for the kids. The floor is covered with foam mats to prevent injuries (ha! right...) and there are toys lined up. It's a nice set-up for the kids. I had one mom actually stick her head through my door and exclaim "I love what you did to the living room - you converted it to a playroom! And it looks so nice! You get really good use out of this room! Hey Hon (to her husband who's talking on the sidewalk with a buddy) -- we should do this to our house!" She was definitely one of the odder parents of the night.

Kael getting down and dirty with my pumpkin. Mrs. Morin carved a pumpkin at school and had the kids touch the guts and seeds so Kael took great relish in telling me how slimey and ooey-gooey it was.

Yup. It's really slimey and ooey-gooey. His job was to get the seeds out and he's not liking it. In fact, he picked out about 5 seeds then he quit.

Our pumpkins. Truong's the one on the left and mine is on the right. I saw a lady take a picture of my pumpkin as her kid was getting treated at our house. I'm such an artist...