"No cereal, Mama! I want waffles!"
"I want a fork!"
"I want the blue cup!"
"No milk! Orange juice, orange juice!"
"I want the red toothbrush!"
"I want to wear Crocs! No shoes!"
"Not this song! The Dragon Mountain song!"
"Dragon Mountain song AGAIN, Mama!"
"No shoes!! Bare feet!"
"Not this way, Mama! That way. THAT way!"
"No no, Mama. Sing this way, not like that. "
"No, like THIS, Mama."
"I want this shirt. Not that one."
"Not these pants. "
"Not this jacket. No, no jacket."
---------------------------------------------
My Responses:
"You asked for cereal. You are going to eat cereal. There are starving children in Africa who would love to eat your cereal. DON'T PUSH YOUR CEREAL AWAY! YOU'RE GOING TO SPILL IT!!"
"You can't eat cereal with a fork. Please use your spoon. No don't wave that spoon at me! PUT THAT SPOON DOWN! YOU'RE THROWING CEREAL EVERYWHERE!!"
"The blue cup is being used. Please drink from the red cup. DON'T YOU TIP THAT CUP OVER! I MEAN IT!"
"You drank all the orange juice last night. We don't have any more. Please drink your milk. Remember those starving children in Africa? They're thirsty too. I CAN'T GIVE YOU WHAT I DON'T HAVE! THERE'S NO MORE ORANGE JUICE! Please. Drink. Your. Milk."
"The red brush isn't yours. It isn't yours. The yellow toothbrush is yours. We don't share toothbrushes. DON'T YOU THROW THAT YELLOW BRUSH ON THE GROUND!"
"You can't wear Crocs. They don't fit you. You need to wear your shoes. DON'T TAKE YOUR SHOES OFF!"
"OK. But this is the last time we're listening to Dragon Mountain. The LAST time."
"No! We're not listening to Dragon Mountain anymore! You've already heard it 4 times. That's it! NO. MORE."
"PUT YOUR SHOES BACK ON! WE ARE AT THE STORE! DO NOT TAKE THEM OFF! PUT THEM BACK ON RIGHT NOW! COME BACK HERE AND PUT YOUR SHOES BACK ON!!"
"We're going home now. That's not the right way. We have to go this way. We'll drive that way tomorrow. No, we're not driving that way. We're driving this way. THIS WAY."
"I did sing it that way!"
"I DID sing it like that! Listen!"
"OK, fine. You can wear that shirt. Let's change it but hurry up. We're late for school."
"No, we're not changing pants too. We're late for school. NO! KEEP YOUR PANTS ON! I MEAN IT!"
"You have to wear a jacket. It's too cold outside. COME BACK HERE!!"
---------------------------------------------
That's my day in a nutshell.
I am the Mommy.
I am the Boss.
Was that memo misplaced?
She's not even 2 and already she's a holy terror.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Monday, April 28, 2008
A Day at the Beach
Sunday we headed to the beach -- Corona del Mar to be exact. We were willing to pay the $10 parking fee for easy access to the beach to haul out all our stuff. "All our stuff" entailed the EZ Up for shade, the large bucket of sand toys, 3 chairs (one for me and 2 for the kids), 3 towels, a large picnic mat, and the lunch cooler. Doesn't sound like a lot but when you've got 2 kids running around you and then one decides she doesn't like walking on the soft sand so you end up having to haul everything PLUS a 2 year old... $10 is totally worth it.
Do I have every part covered in this get-up? Whatever is left out is slathered in sunblock.
(Take note of the sun protection, Shana!)
The boys digging... what? A hole? A pit? Mining for ore??
Check out Malia in the far back. She's way more interested in exploring.
She took off towards a random person and started talking to her. It was hilarious. I could see the mom chatting back but looking around looking for this little girl's parents. She finally figured out I was the parent, not some pedophile with a huge camera taking pictures of little kids at the beach.
Kael filling a bucket of water for his... man-made pond.
Success!
Unfortunately, by the time he ran back up the beach to dump it on his pond, there was a teeny tiny bit of water left after being sloshed around.
So Dad takes both kids back to fill up the bucket.
Malia falls on her bottom and gets partially wet. Boy, was she pissed! She demanded a diaper change (which she got since she was so upset and wouldn't go back out). Later on, she fell again, but I wouldn't change her swim diaper so she eventually gave up and walked around wet.
Dad and his princess.
Jumping over waves.
Wave stomping.
This picture pretty much sums up our day at the beach.
So the kids had a great time. Dad had a great time. As for Mom... well, I enjoyed it because the kids enjoyed it so much. Truong doesn't understand why I'm so-so on the beach. Maybe it's because the kids play with him, but when they get sand in their eyes, they come to me. When they get sand in their ear, they come to me. When they want a diaper changed (for the third time) they come to me. When they drop their lunch meat in the sand and eat it (unbeknownst to me) and don't like the sand in their mouth, they come to me. When they get sand in their Crocs and freak out because it's hot, they come to me.
So yeah, I'm so-so at the beach. But once I get there, I enjoy it because the kids love it so much. And that's all the really matters.
Do I have every part covered in this get-up? Whatever is left out is slathered in sunblock.
(Take note of the sun protection, Shana!)
The boys digging... what? A hole? A pit? Mining for ore??
Check out Malia in the far back. She's way more interested in exploring.
She took off towards a random person and started talking to her. It was hilarious. I could see the mom chatting back but looking around looking for this little girl's parents. She finally figured out I was the parent, not some pedophile with a huge camera taking pictures of little kids at the beach.
Kael filling a bucket of water for his... man-made pond.
Success!
Unfortunately, by the time he ran back up the beach to dump it on his pond, there was a teeny tiny bit of water left after being sloshed around.
So Dad takes both kids back to fill up the bucket.
Malia falls on her bottom and gets partially wet. Boy, was she pissed! She demanded a diaper change (which she got since she was so upset and wouldn't go back out). Later on, she fell again, but I wouldn't change her swim diaper so she eventually gave up and walked around wet.
Dad and his princess.
Jumping over waves.
Wave stomping.
This picture pretty much sums up our day at the beach.
So the kids had a great time. Dad had a great time. As for Mom... well, I enjoyed it because the kids enjoyed it so much. Truong doesn't understand why I'm so-so on the beach. Maybe it's because the kids play with him, but when they get sand in their eyes, they come to me. When they get sand in their ear, they come to me. When they want a diaper changed (for the third time) they come to me. When they drop their lunch meat in the sand and eat it (unbeknownst to me) and don't like the sand in their mouth, they come to me. When they get sand in their Crocs and freak out because it's hot, they come to me.
So yeah, I'm so-so at the beach. But once I get there, I enjoy it because the kids love it so much. And that's all the really matters.
Backyard Water Fun: Episode 1
Since we practically roasted this weekend, we finally broke out the water playmat in the backyard for its inaugural run. And it was... mildly successful. Sure the kids loved it. But Kael complained the water from the hose was too cold.
Umm. Hello! It was 100 degrees outside! You want it to be cold! And since Malia loves to ape everything Kael does and says, she also said it was too cold. Sheesh.
Enjoy the pictures.
See his face? "Mom, it's too cold!"
What -- you want a wetsuit or something?!
We started off wearing clothes...
But somehow we lost the top... and she's much happier.
Malia making a mad dash through the sprinklers.
Kael decides it's not so cold after all.
The kids taking a few minutes to warm up in the sun.
Kael making a big splash.
Trying to catch water.
"Malia! Time to come inside!"
Do you think she's happy hearing that?
"Come on, Malia. Playtime is over! Please come inside."
You can just see her thinking "No" and pondering how to keep playing.
Umm. Hello! It was 100 degrees outside! You want it to be cold! And since Malia loves to ape everything Kael does and says, she also said it was too cold. Sheesh.
Enjoy the pictures.
See his face? "Mom, it's too cold!"
What -- you want a wetsuit or something?!
We started off wearing clothes...
But somehow we lost the top... and she's much happier.
Malia making a mad dash through the sprinklers.
Kael decides it's not so cold after all.
The kids taking a few minutes to warm up in the sun.
Kael making a big splash.
Trying to catch water.
"Malia! Time to come inside!"
Do you think she's happy hearing that?
"Come on, Malia. Playtime is over! Please come inside."
You can just see her thinking "No" and pondering how to keep playing.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
The Double Whopper
Can I just say "Damn, it's hot!" Or maybe it should be "It's damn hot." Either way we roasted this weekend. It reached over 100 degrees and by the time the end of day slowly creeped up on us, everyone's patience was at an end.
Add on being pregnant but still trying to wear regular clothes because maternity doesn't fit yet, a very obstinate and opinionated 2 year old, and a nosy never-ending talking 4.5 year old, I was ready to pack it up and fly to Tahiti -- sans kids and husband. Well, I would have had to leave the husband behind anyway since he was golfing!
Anyway, on with the story. We decided to head over to Chevy's for dinner -- where we ran into the Bickmeier's. They were already eating otherwise we would have asked them to join us. Kael thought it was way cool to run into Josh and Malia was thrilled to see "Eh-rin" and "Kay-lin." Unfortunately she didn't understand why they left and wanted to go with them. And dinner went downhill from there. From Kael kicking off his shoes and losing it under the tables which resulted in him head diving underneath and almost landing on his face to Malia standing up and looking over the booth to look for the Bickmeiers and bugging other patrons in the process -- Truong and I were scarfing our food down so we could just leave. Service at Chevy's was less than stellar as usual so I sent Dad out with the kids while I paid. Upon finally getting to the car, the first thing Kael asks me is: "Mom, what's my business?"
I stopped and thought about it, trying to figure out where the question came from on my own, hoping to minimize further questioning on my part to reduce the chances of more questions on questions from him. Then it dawned on me: he was probably talking Truong's ear off, asking him all sorts of out-of-the-blue, random-assed questions (this was the primary reason why I sent Kael out with Truong - to give me a break from this) when Truong probably had enough and told Kael to "mind his own business."
OK. I admit that's not the best thing to say to a kid who's expressing his natural curiosity of the world. But crimony! You haven't had to spend all day with Kael and so haven't been subjected to all his questions!! I swear it's never ending. My brain gets tired and I admit I've said something very similar to what Truong said to him. Actually, my exact words have been: "You've used up all your questions for now, so shhh, no more questions!"
So back to Kael. He asked again: "What's my business? I don't know what my business is, Mom." I had to chuckle. It was really cute. I explained that his business was what he was doing at that moment. For example, right now, your business is getting in the car seat and buckling yourself in. When we get home, your business is to get ready for bed.
After that he didn't say anything. So I think I did good.
We get home and Truong starts cleaning the car out, Kael waters the plants, and I take Malia upstairs to get ready for bed. I come downstairs and go to the bathroom. I don't close the door. I haven't closed the bathroom door to pee since the end of college roommates -- old habits are hard to break. I'm peeing, and Kael wanders up. He looks at me then asks: "Mom, why do girls sit down to pee and boys stand up?"
I'm trapped on the toilet. Peeing. While sitting down. I can't escape him or do any of my other distraction methods. It's hard to think of something educational yet age appropriate while my hands are caught in the cookie jar, so to speak.
Suddenly the situation gets to me and I start laughing. He's totally confused but sort of laughing with me because I'm laughing really hard and it's contagious. He says: "Why are you laughing. Mom?" I tell him because I love him and he makes me laugh.
I've finish my pee and I'm stalling, trying to find the right moment to stand up. But it never comes because he asks again: "Girls sit down to pee, right? Why do they do that when boys stand up?" So I tell him: "Because girls have different pee parts from boys. You have penises (he calls it his 'peanut') and girls... don't." He just nods and then lifts his chin hoping to peer into the bowl to check out... my "don't parts." I wasn't going to teach him the word "vagina" -- can you imagine how mortified I'd be if he told his preschool class that his mom had a vagina and Mrs. Morin had to explain that to them??
Anyway, I hunch down and tell him to wait for me outside, please. He says OK but I can tell he's still trying to look. At that moment, I decide it's the perfect time to start teaching him about privacy and closed doors. And I made a mental note to watch the kids while showering. It may be time to have individual showers from now on.
Add on being pregnant but still trying to wear regular clothes because maternity doesn't fit yet, a very obstinate and opinionated 2 year old, and a nosy never-ending talking 4.5 year old, I was ready to pack it up and fly to Tahiti -- sans kids and husband. Well, I would have had to leave the husband behind anyway since he was golfing!
Anyway, on with the story. We decided to head over to Chevy's for dinner -- where we ran into the Bickmeier's. They were already eating otherwise we would have asked them to join us. Kael thought it was way cool to run into Josh and Malia was thrilled to see "Eh-rin" and "Kay-lin." Unfortunately she didn't understand why they left and wanted to go with them. And dinner went downhill from there. From Kael kicking off his shoes and losing it under the tables which resulted in him head diving underneath and almost landing on his face to Malia standing up and looking over the booth to look for the Bickmeiers and bugging other patrons in the process -- Truong and I were scarfing our food down so we could just leave. Service at Chevy's was less than stellar as usual so I sent Dad out with the kids while I paid. Upon finally getting to the car, the first thing Kael asks me is: "Mom, what's my business?"
I stopped and thought about it, trying to figure out where the question came from on my own, hoping to minimize further questioning on my part to reduce the chances of more questions on questions from him. Then it dawned on me: he was probably talking Truong's ear off, asking him all sorts of out-of-the-blue, random-assed questions (this was the primary reason why I sent Kael out with Truong - to give me a break from this) when Truong probably had enough and told Kael to "mind his own business."
OK. I admit that's not the best thing to say to a kid who's expressing his natural curiosity of the world. But crimony! You haven't had to spend all day with Kael and so haven't been subjected to all his questions!! I swear it's never ending. My brain gets tired and I admit I've said something very similar to what Truong said to him. Actually, my exact words have been: "You've used up all your questions for now, so shhh, no more questions!"
So back to Kael. He asked again: "What's my business? I don't know what my business is, Mom." I had to chuckle. It was really cute. I explained that his business was what he was doing at that moment. For example, right now, your business is getting in the car seat and buckling yourself in. When we get home, your business is to get ready for bed.
After that he didn't say anything. So I think I did good.
We get home and Truong starts cleaning the car out, Kael waters the plants, and I take Malia upstairs to get ready for bed. I come downstairs and go to the bathroom. I don't close the door. I haven't closed the bathroom door to pee since the end of college roommates -- old habits are hard to break. I'm peeing, and Kael wanders up. He looks at me then asks: "Mom, why do girls sit down to pee and boys stand up?"
I'm trapped on the toilet. Peeing. While sitting down. I can't escape him or do any of my other distraction methods. It's hard to think of something educational yet age appropriate while my hands are caught in the cookie jar, so to speak.
Suddenly the situation gets to me and I start laughing. He's totally confused but sort of laughing with me because I'm laughing really hard and it's contagious. He says: "Why are you laughing. Mom?" I tell him because I love him and he makes me laugh.
I've finish my pee and I'm stalling, trying to find the right moment to stand up. But it never comes because he asks again: "Girls sit down to pee, right? Why do they do that when boys stand up?" So I tell him: "Because girls have different pee parts from boys. You have penises (he calls it his 'peanut') and girls... don't." He just nods and then lifts his chin hoping to peer into the bowl to check out... my "don't parts." I wasn't going to teach him the word "vagina" -- can you imagine how mortified I'd be if he told his preschool class that his mom had a vagina and Mrs. Morin had to explain that to them??
Anyway, I hunch down and tell him to wait for me outside, please. He says OK but I can tell he's still trying to look. At that moment, I decide it's the perfect time to start teaching him about privacy and closed doors. And I made a mental note to watch the kids while showering. It may be time to have individual showers from now on.
Friday, April 25, 2008
Roomies
Not yet anyway, but the clock is ticking, the countdown has started.
Our original plan was to have Kael and Malia room together sometime in December 2008, January 2009 (basically when Blub needs his own room and crib). Actually there are a lot more things that need to happen before that -- just thinking about them makes me break out into a cold sweat. Broken down into steps I have to (over the course of the summer):
1) potty train Malia;
2) get her used to a big girl bed;
3) get her used to sleeping in a room with Kael;
4) get Kael used to sharing his room and space with his sister who about 80% of the time is considered a pest; and
5) introduce both kids to their new sibling.
An added possible task for me could maybe involve entering Malia into preschool depending on how well we do with (1) and (5). If she loves Blub and is OK with sharing Mom, then I'll keep her at home. If she hates him and tries on numerous occasions to off him, then the prospect of preschool looks very promising. Not so much to get her out of my hair, but to give her something of her own.
As I said before, all this was to happen this summer with the grand finale being their changed status from housemates to roommates at the end of the year.
Well, as of last week, it's been pushed up. We now have 30 days. Grandma sold her house, is in escrow and will move in with us sometime mid- to end-of May. Don't get me wrong, I have no problems at all with that. I just wasn't planning on doing everything so soon.
But I wouldn't be a Mom if I couldn't adjust. That's pretty much the first Rule of Mommyhood: Learn to Adjust or Sink in Despair. So we bought a bunch of new furniture in preparation of moving the kids in together: 2 new twin beds (so they match), new nightstand, new toy/bookcases. We sold everything in Kael's room. I mean everything.Well, I guess I should say "We plan on selling everything in Kael's room." Shana's having a garage sale tomorrow and I hope we sell the stuff otherwise Truong's either going to give it away for free or pay people to take it.
The only things left in Kael's room: his lamp, his clock, his bedding, the kid and his clothes. No kidding. We assembled one of the twins tonight for him to sleep on and will move Malia's crib in sometime before Grandma moves in. I might as well wait until the last minute to move them in together so I can at least guarantee a couple more weeks of good sleep, right?
Our original plan was to have Kael and Malia room together sometime in December 2008, January 2009 (basically when Blub needs his own room and crib). Actually there are a lot more things that need to happen before that -- just thinking about them makes me break out into a cold sweat. Broken down into steps I have to (over the course of the summer):
1) potty train Malia;
2) get her used to a big girl bed;
3) get her used to sleeping in a room with Kael;
4) get Kael used to sharing his room and space with his sister who about 80% of the time is considered a pest; and
5) introduce both kids to their new sibling.
An added possible task for me could maybe involve entering Malia into preschool depending on how well we do with (1) and (5). If she loves Blub and is OK with sharing Mom, then I'll keep her at home. If she hates him and tries on numerous occasions to off him, then the prospect of preschool looks very promising. Not so much to get her out of my hair, but to give her something of her own.
As I said before, all this was to happen this summer with the grand finale being their changed status from housemates to roommates at the end of the year.
Well, as of last week, it's been pushed up. We now have 30 days. Grandma sold her house, is in escrow and will move in with us sometime mid- to end-of May. Don't get me wrong, I have no problems at all with that. I just wasn't planning on doing everything so soon.
But I wouldn't be a Mom if I couldn't adjust. That's pretty much the first Rule of Mommyhood: Learn to Adjust or Sink in Despair. So we bought a bunch of new furniture in preparation of moving the kids in together: 2 new twin beds (so they match), new nightstand, new toy/bookcases. We sold everything in Kael's room. I mean everything.Well, I guess I should say "We plan on selling everything in Kael's room." Shana's having a garage sale tomorrow and I hope we sell the stuff otherwise Truong's either going to give it away for free or pay people to take it.
The only things left in Kael's room: his lamp, his clock, his bedding, the kid and his clothes. No kidding. We assembled one of the twins tonight for him to sleep on and will move Malia's crib in sometime before Grandma moves in. I might as well wait until the last minute to move them in together so I can at least guarantee a couple more weeks of good sleep, right?
Sunday, April 20, 2008
People tell me she looks like a doll...
But I don't think they meant Mr. Potato Head.
Yup. That's Mr. Potato Head's glasses she's wearing.
And she did that all by herself. I had nothing to do with it -- except laugh my butt off before scrambling for the camera. And hey - the girl's got style: notice how the glasses match her PJ's?
Yup. That's Mr. Potato Head's glasses she's wearing.
And she did that all by herself. I had nothing to do with it -- except laugh my butt off before scrambling for the camera. And hey - the girl's got style: notice how the glasses match her PJ's?
Friday, April 18, 2008
Genetically.... cursed?
I don't know what happened. I put her down for a nap as usual. She slept very well - just over 2 hours. She woke up smiling and laughing.
Maybe she knew on some level something was off because she was insistent on me taking a picture of Horsey first:
But try as she might... she can never escape the camera:
I'm so sorry, baby. At least you inherited my eye lids, even if you did get the hair too.
Not even a glob of gel could fix this. This calls for a full on shower with shampoo to work out the kinks.
Maybe she knew on some level something was off because she was insistent on me taking a picture of Horsey first:
But try as she might... she can never escape the camera:
I'm so sorry, baby. At least you inherited my eye lids, even if you did get the hair too.
Not even a glob of gel could fix this. This calls for a full on shower with shampoo to work out the kinks.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
They're back...
It was inevitable. He's been asking for them for weeks. Uncle Thien's promised him they were coming in the mail. We went and got everything ready for their arrival. And today, right before naptime, I heard a noise out front and upon peeking out the window, saw the package:
Well, it was actually wrapped in a FedEx 2-Day ground envelope and inside was this box. Big Dummy Thien taped the box so damn tight I couldn't even get a knife in to cut the tape. It took a lot of effort. I was afraid to tug or tear open the flaps for fear of flinging the disgusting things all over the kitchen. Holy cow if that happened, I would have laid a big ol' crap right in the middle of the kitchen floor while screaming hysterically. Then I would have packed up the kids and gone to Shana's until we could sell the house.
Anyway, here's the box finally opened:
Ugh. Just looking at them makes my skin crawl. Notice my very secure grip on the lid. I didn't tell Kael the Box O' Worms had arrived because I wanted to make sure they weren't all dead from their 2 day travels from Davis aboard a FedEx truck. Can you imagine opening the much anticipated Box O' Worms to find 100 of the little buggers all curled up and shriveled?! That would have given him nightmares for sure. I was at once relieved and bothered that they were still alive. Relieved that my son has what he's been waiting for. Disgusted that I once again have a box full of worms in the house.
Kael preparing their new homes. The large box is for his classroom and the small box is for us. Notice the considerable size difference. I told him that we'd take just 10. T-E-N worms. That's it. We'd give Ms. Shana 20 worms (sure she asked for just 10 but she's the one who started this whole disgusting love relationship so she's taking however many I give her). The rest we'd take to his class.
Kael as he opened the Box O' Worms for the first time. I think the worms sensed their freedom because when he opened the lid, I about dropped the camera when I saw just how many worms Thien packed in, trying to escape.
I said 60 worms, Thien!! S-I-X-T-Y!! That's not 60, my friend.
Have you ever seen him so darn happy?! He's giddy. It's like he was reunited with long lost siblings.
Starting the separation process, putting them in their new homes.
Remember the deal we had? Keep 10 for home, give 20 to Ms. Shana and the rest goes to school? Well, he started doing "Magical Counting": he first counted out 10 for us then he moved on to his class box. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6... but 5 and 6 actually went to OUR box and then he continued 7, 8, 9... in the class box. Then 10, 11, 12 went to ours; 13, 14, 15, 16 went to class, and so on and so on. In the end, we ended up with over 25 worms. He gave Shana something ridiculous like 7 worms. I asked him to give her more, but he said Ms. Shana had more than enough worms. In the end after some negotiation, I think Shana ended up with 20 or so worms, give or take a few. The counting got really confusing with him in charge.
A close-up (from far away with the zoom lens) of the Box O' Worms.
He's so happy. Words cannot describe what he's feeling.
I have fears that he will try to squirrel some worms home from class in his pocket or lunch bag.
Does he have to put it so close to his face?! He all but kissed it. Stop trying to hug the worm!
I wish, I hope, that one day, some day, he will bestow the same loving look he gives to his worms, to his sister.
Well, it was actually wrapped in a FedEx 2-Day ground envelope and inside was this box. Big Dummy Thien taped the box so damn tight I couldn't even get a knife in to cut the tape. It took a lot of effort. I was afraid to tug or tear open the flaps for fear of flinging the disgusting things all over the kitchen. Holy cow if that happened, I would have laid a big ol' crap right in the middle of the kitchen floor while screaming hysterically. Then I would have packed up the kids and gone to Shana's until we could sell the house.
Anyway, here's the box finally opened:
Ugh. Just looking at them makes my skin crawl. Notice my very secure grip on the lid. I didn't tell Kael the Box O' Worms had arrived because I wanted to make sure they weren't all dead from their 2 day travels from Davis aboard a FedEx truck. Can you imagine opening the much anticipated Box O' Worms to find 100 of the little buggers all curled up and shriveled?! That would have given him nightmares for sure. I was at once relieved and bothered that they were still alive. Relieved that my son has what he's been waiting for. Disgusted that I once again have a box full of worms in the house.
Kael preparing their new homes. The large box is for his classroom and the small box is for us. Notice the considerable size difference. I told him that we'd take just 10. T-E-N worms. That's it. We'd give Ms. Shana 20 worms (sure she asked for just 10 but she's the one who started this whole disgusting love relationship so she's taking however many I give her). The rest we'd take to his class.
Kael as he opened the Box O' Worms for the first time. I think the worms sensed their freedom because when he opened the lid, I about dropped the camera when I saw just how many worms Thien packed in, trying to escape.
I said 60 worms, Thien!! S-I-X-T-Y!! That's not 60, my friend.
Have you ever seen him so darn happy?! He's giddy. It's like he was reunited with long lost siblings.
Starting the separation process, putting them in their new homes.
Remember the deal we had? Keep 10 for home, give 20 to Ms. Shana and the rest goes to school? Well, he started doing "Magical Counting": he first counted out 10 for us then he moved on to his class box. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6... but 5 and 6 actually went to OUR box and then he continued 7, 8, 9... in the class box. Then 10, 11, 12 went to ours; 13, 14, 15, 16 went to class, and so on and so on. In the end, we ended up with over 25 worms. He gave Shana something ridiculous like 7 worms. I asked him to give her more, but he said Ms. Shana had more than enough worms. In the end after some negotiation, I think Shana ended up with 20 or so worms, give or take a few. The counting got really confusing with him in charge.
A close-up (from far away with the zoom lens) of the Box O' Worms.
He's so happy. Words cannot describe what he's feeling.
I have fears that he will try to squirrel some worms home from class in his pocket or lunch bag.
Does he have to put it so close to his face?! He all but kissed it. Stop trying to hug the worm!
I wish, I hope, that one day, some day, he will bestow the same loving look he gives to his worms, to his sister.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Madame Butterfly
A couple of weeks ago Malia's friend Rylan had her 2nd birthday party but we missed it due to a family commitment. The theme was Frog Prince and Fairy Princess. Even though they didn't attend, the kids still got the party favors: a crown for Kael and fairy wings for Malia.
They loved it. Especially Malia. She was on cloud nine, dancing around the house, running into walls as she tried to see the wings on her back as she ran. She refused to take off her wings and it was a challenge to get her in the car to go to the library. G'ma took her wings off to put her in the car seat, which resulted in a massive tantrum. To compromise, G'ma had to put on her wings in front, meaning on her chest. I should have taken a picture.
I did take pictures of our little fairy at the library:
Here she is outside the library.
Our little flower-fairy child.
Playing on the computer.
Sitting like a little lady...
Running back and forth, trying to catch some air.
I've since had to hide her wings unless I know we're going to be home for a while. I don't know where this girly-girl came from. I'm still a tomboy to this day and her girly tendencies are cracking me up and baffling me too. Her fierce need to wear purple (her favorite color) was at first cute and funny. Two months later, her desire to wear purple is crossing over to the "obsessive" side. For example, she's got 4 pairs of cute shoes, including a pair of sandals specifically purchased to be worn in the warm weather. She refuses to wear all but her Converses. Why? you ask. Because the Converses have purple in them. Only the Converses have purple in them so she will only wear the Converses. In fact, she's wearing them in the pictures above -- and probably in every picture taken in the last 8 weeks.
I finally caved in and bought her a pair of purple Keens this morning at REI. I had to. It's getting too hot to wear socks and her feet were starting to stink in a bad way from going sans socks. The look on her face as she clutched the Kool-Aid grape colored Keens to her chest was comical. Truong is predicting that she'll be wearing the Keens for the next 5 months.
Sadly, I'm thinking more like 6 + months or until she outgrows them.
They loved it. Especially Malia. She was on cloud nine, dancing around the house, running into walls as she tried to see the wings on her back as she ran. She refused to take off her wings and it was a challenge to get her in the car to go to the library. G'ma took her wings off to put her in the car seat, which resulted in a massive tantrum. To compromise, G'ma had to put on her wings in front, meaning on her chest. I should have taken a picture.
I did take pictures of our little fairy at the library:
Here she is outside the library.
Our little flower-fairy child.
Playing on the computer.
Sitting like a little lady...
Running back and forth, trying to catch some air.
I've since had to hide her wings unless I know we're going to be home for a while. I don't know where this girly-girl came from. I'm still a tomboy to this day and her girly tendencies are cracking me up and baffling me too. Her fierce need to wear purple (her favorite color) was at first cute and funny. Two months later, her desire to wear purple is crossing over to the "obsessive" side. For example, she's got 4 pairs of cute shoes, including a pair of sandals specifically purchased to be worn in the warm weather. She refuses to wear all but her Converses. Why? you ask. Because the Converses have purple in them. Only the Converses have purple in them so she will only wear the Converses. In fact, she's wearing them in the pictures above -- and probably in every picture taken in the last 8 weeks.
I finally caved in and bought her a pair of purple Keens this morning at REI. I had to. It's getting too hot to wear socks and her feet were starting to stink in a bad way from going sans socks. The look on her face as she clutched the Kool-Aid grape colored Keens to her chest was comical. Truong is predicting that she'll be wearing the Keens for the next 5 months.
Sadly, I'm thinking more like 6 + months or until she outgrows them.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
What's Worser than Worse?
Answer:
Getting hit with the stomach flu.
Yup. That was me since Thursday: curled up in the fetal position on the floor of the bathroom, wishing for death, but not really wishing for death for fear of abandoning the children. Somehow the children have been spared... so far.
It all started with the nausea. For a while I thought it was morning sickness coming back to haunt me. Then the stomach cramps. Then the projectile vomiting. That was the worse. Couple that with two healthy kids fresh from a nap, wanting to go play at the park, play superheros, play with paints, play anything that for that one afternoon, didn't involve watching TV. The one afternoon that I wanted them to watch TV, they wanted no part of it. Just my luck.
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What's worser than that? Can it even get any worse?
Answer:
I had to call Truong for help. I swear I thought I was dying.
And he doesn't answer.
Nor does he return my phone call.
I would have gotten mad, if I was able to conjure up the energy. I think by that point, I was almost reduced to tears, such was the agony I was in -- and even that was an effort.
I called my mother-in-law for help and she came right over. She even brought dinner for the kids. (Maybe I should have married her.) I dragged my sorry ass upstairs, made two buckets (one by the bed and one in the bathroom because it was just a matter of time for the virus to head south) and stayed in my room the rest of the afternoon and night. I couldn't even keep down ice chips so I decided I'd much rather die of thirst than die while vomiting and gave up all forms of nourishment.
Truong called 2 hours later and said he'd be home late (he was with clients in downtown LA). He eventually canceled dinner plans and headed home early (8:30pm) where he got an incredulous "You JUST got home?!" comment from Shana when she called to check in on me. Shana said she didn't think he appreciated that when all she got was silence in return.
In the end, I didn't eat for over 30 hours and didn't drink for almost 10. At my OB appointment Monday, I lost a pound since last month and my blood pressure was 80/40. The nurse commented that I was almost dead. Ha-ha, very funny. Luckily Blub was still there with a heartbeat of 160.
I'm keeping my fingers crossed for healthy kids. If I'm lucky I flushed the virus down the toilet. Lord knows my head was hanging in there long enough.
Getting hit with the stomach flu.
Yup. That was me since Thursday: curled up in the fetal position on the floor of the bathroom, wishing for death, but not really wishing for death for fear of abandoning the children. Somehow the children have been spared... so far.
It all started with the nausea. For a while I thought it was morning sickness coming back to haunt me. Then the stomach cramps. Then the projectile vomiting. That was the worse. Couple that with two healthy kids fresh from a nap, wanting to go play at the park, play superheros, play with paints, play anything that for that one afternoon, didn't involve watching TV. The one afternoon that I wanted them to watch TV, they wanted no part of it. Just my luck.
<><><><><><><><><><><><>
What's worser than that? Can it even get any worse?
Answer:
I had to call Truong for help. I swear I thought I was dying.
And he doesn't answer.
Nor does he return my phone call.
I would have gotten mad, if I was able to conjure up the energy. I think by that point, I was almost reduced to tears, such was the agony I was in -- and even that was an effort.
I called my mother-in-law for help and she came right over. She even brought dinner for the kids. (Maybe I should have married her.) I dragged my sorry ass upstairs, made two buckets (one by the bed and one in the bathroom because it was just a matter of time for the virus to head south) and stayed in my room the rest of the afternoon and night. I couldn't even keep down ice chips so I decided I'd much rather die of thirst than die while vomiting and gave up all forms of nourishment.
Truong called 2 hours later and said he'd be home late (he was with clients in downtown LA). He eventually canceled dinner plans and headed home early (8:30pm) where he got an incredulous "You JUST got home?!" comment from Shana when she called to check in on me. Shana said she didn't think he appreciated that when all she got was silence in return.
In the end, I didn't eat for over 30 hours and didn't drink for almost 10. At my OB appointment Monday, I lost a pound since last month and my blood pressure was 80/40. The nurse commented that I was almost dead. Ha-ha, very funny. Luckily Blub was still there with a heartbeat of 160.
I'm keeping my fingers crossed for healthy kids. If I'm lucky I flushed the virus down the toilet. Lord knows my head was hanging in there long enough.
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Could be good news... could be bad.
With most first pregnancies professionals say mom's start feeling the baby move around 18 weeks or so, and earlier with subsequent children. With Kael, I felt him move at 16 weeks. I was a pretty skinny person to begin with so that wasn't surprising. With Malia, I started to feel her around 15 weeks because I knew what to look for. "Feel the baby move" at this point means feeling a flutter-like sensation in your tummy. Or maybe gas bubbles. Just something there that's not normal.
Last week (that would make me 15 weeks) I started feeling something on the upper right side of my tummy, near my rib cage. It wasn't a fluttering feeling, it wasn't gas bubbles. It was more like a twitching. I figured I was getting small muscle spasms or something weird like that since I was getting all the wacky pregnancy symptoms this time around that I didn't get with the first 2 and didn't think much of it. I'd get it on and off all week so I brushed it off. Last night it started up again (or more appropriately, I paid more attention to it since I was sitting at the computer), but this time the spasms were much stronger and for longer periods of time. "What the heck is going on?!" I thought, and "Boy, being pregnant while considered 'Advanced Maternal Age' really sucks -- my body's all broken down!" So I sat there massaging the twitch when it dawned on me: it was the baby.
Today, Blub's been twitching pretty regularly. (I'm calling it Blub since we're not finding out the sex until its birthday in September.) I have to say it's been kind of neat since #3's movements are completely different from Kael's and Malia's. At lunchtime, Blub was twitching pretty hard and I happened to look down. I knew I wouldn't see anything since it's way too early. Imagine my surprise when I actually saw movement: Blub make a ding in my belly that I could see through my shirt, like that scene out of the Exorcist where Linda Blair's stomach was written on from the inside (OK, bad comparison, but that's the best I can think of). I couldn't believe it. I told G'ma to look and she saw it too. I was floored. And yes, more than a little worried about the coming months until D-Day in September.
The good news: this baby's apparently really strong and maybe, just maybe, I'll have a 6+ pound baby this time around (Kael was 5lbs, 14oz and Malia was 5lbs, 6oz). It will be nice not having to say repeatedly: "No, s/he's not a preemie; s/he's a full term baby, just a small one."
The bad news: if Blub is already kicking this hard this early, the rest of the pregnancy is going to be hell. Imagine trying to sleep with a barrel of monkeys goofing off in your tummy at night. Plus, both Kael and Malia were very active babies in the womb -- and look at them now. Kael's aways ALWAYS got to have some body part moving, whether it's a leg twitching or an arm swinging wildly. And Malia, well, Dad doesn't call her Godzilla for nothing. The third child is supposed to be the calm and mellow one. Already this one is proving that theory wrong.
Great. Luckily for you, I'm sure I'll have plenty of blog-worthy material.
Last week (that would make me 15 weeks) I started feeling something on the upper right side of my tummy, near my rib cage. It wasn't a fluttering feeling, it wasn't gas bubbles. It was more like a twitching. I figured I was getting small muscle spasms or something weird like that since I was getting all the wacky pregnancy symptoms this time around that I didn't get with the first 2 and didn't think much of it. I'd get it on and off all week so I brushed it off. Last night it started up again (or more appropriately, I paid more attention to it since I was sitting at the computer), but this time the spasms were much stronger and for longer periods of time. "What the heck is going on?!" I thought, and "Boy, being pregnant while considered 'Advanced Maternal Age' really sucks -- my body's all broken down!" So I sat there massaging the twitch when it dawned on me: it was the baby.
Today, Blub's been twitching pretty regularly. (I'm calling it Blub since we're not finding out the sex until its birthday in September.) I have to say it's been kind of neat since #3's movements are completely different from Kael's and Malia's. At lunchtime, Blub was twitching pretty hard and I happened to look down. I knew I wouldn't see anything since it's way too early. Imagine my surprise when I actually saw movement: Blub make a ding in my belly that I could see through my shirt, like that scene out of the Exorcist where Linda Blair's stomach was written on from the inside (OK, bad comparison, but that's the best I can think of). I couldn't believe it. I told G'ma to look and she saw it too. I was floored. And yes, more than a little worried about the coming months until D-Day in September.
The good news: this baby's apparently really strong and maybe, just maybe, I'll have a 6+ pound baby this time around (Kael was 5lbs, 14oz and Malia was 5lbs, 6oz). It will be nice not having to say repeatedly: "No, s/he's not a preemie; s/he's a full term baby, just a small one."
The bad news: if Blub is already kicking this hard this early, the rest of the pregnancy is going to be hell. Imagine trying to sleep with a barrel of monkeys goofing off in your tummy at night. Plus, both Kael and Malia were very active babies in the womb -- and look at them now. Kael's aways ALWAYS got to have some body part moving, whether it's a leg twitching or an arm swinging wildly. And Malia, well, Dad doesn't call her Godzilla for nothing. The third child is supposed to be the calm and mellow one. Already this one is proving that theory wrong.
Great. Luckily for you, I'm sure I'll have plenty of blog-worthy material.
Sunday, April 6, 2008
Crayons: The Clean Up and The Irony of It All
Thank you to all of you who offered answers to our crayon disaster. After much researching on the net, I decided to go the easiest route first, then work my way to the more labor intensive methods.
Method 1:
Tide, Shout and Oxyclean on a hot/cold cycle.
I didn't have much faith in this concoction but a lot of posts from other desperate parents in the same situation swore by it. And to tell you the truth... this worked surprisingly well. You run a hot/cold wash and dump all three ingredients in the wash. It took about 95% of the crayon off. It about knocked me on my ass -- I was so surprised. I ran it again, hoping to get the rest of the blue off, but no luck. Upon closer inspection, I realized that what was remaining was the color stain. So I'd have to move on to Method 2.
Method 2:
Toothbrush and WD-40. Per Crayola's website.
I can't tell you how this went as I haven't done it yet. I'm too lazy. I barely remember to wipe down the kitchen counters and they expect me to haul out a toothbrush to scrub blue spots?! Yeah, sure.
The Irony of It All:
So I told you all this accident happened to our laundry. I keep the kids' laundry separate from Truong's and my laundry. It just happened this one time Truong threw in a couple of pieces of her stuff to fill it up, so Kael's clothes weren't affected all. After deploying Method 1, all of Malia's clothing came out sparkling clean. It's like nothing happened to it. So the person who started this mess got away 100% clean. Truong had a few articles of clothing that were essentially 98% clean. You almost can't tell unless you look. So the person who didn't check the laundry before tossing it on the dryer and thus cementing the blue crayon in the clothing got away pretty clean. And then there's me. The innocent bystander, the cleaner-upper, the one Truong expects to haul out the toothbrush and the can of WD-40 to clean his windbreaker, spot by spot (what year does he think this is -- the 1950's?!). My clothes are trashed. I don't think any came off using Method 1, and if it did it was so minimal that I couldn't even tell. There's still so much crayon on them that it's not worth even trying Method 2. I had only 2 tops in that load and somehow, magically, magnetically even, it attracted essentially all the crayon.
How's that for irony?
Method 1:
Tide, Shout and Oxyclean on a hot/cold cycle.
I didn't have much faith in this concoction but a lot of posts from other desperate parents in the same situation swore by it. And to tell you the truth... this worked surprisingly well. You run a hot/cold wash and dump all three ingredients in the wash. It took about 95% of the crayon off. It about knocked me on my ass -- I was so surprised. I ran it again, hoping to get the rest of the blue off, but no luck. Upon closer inspection, I realized that what was remaining was the color stain. So I'd have to move on to Method 2.
Method 2:
Toothbrush and WD-40. Per Crayola's website.
I can't tell you how this went as I haven't done it yet. I'm too lazy. I barely remember to wipe down the kitchen counters and they expect me to haul out a toothbrush to scrub blue spots?! Yeah, sure.
The Irony of It All:
So I told you all this accident happened to our laundry. I keep the kids' laundry separate from Truong's and my laundry. It just happened this one time Truong threw in a couple of pieces of her stuff to fill it up, so Kael's clothes weren't affected all. After deploying Method 1, all of Malia's clothing came out sparkling clean. It's like nothing happened to it. So the person who started this mess got away 100% clean. Truong had a few articles of clothing that were essentially 98% clean. You almost can't tell unless you look. So the person who didn't check the laundry before tossing it on the dryer and thus cementing the blue crayon in the clothing got away pretty clean. And then there's me. The innocent bystander, the cleaner-upper, the one Truong expects to haul out the toothbrush and the can of WD-40 to clean his windbreaker, spot by spot (what year does he think this is -- the 1950's?!). My clothes are trashed. I don't think any came off using Method 1, and if it did it was so minimal that I couldn't even tell. There's still so much crayon on them that it's not worth even trying Method 2. I had only 2 tops in that load and somehow, magically, magnetically even, it attracted essentially all the crayon.
How's that for irony?
Random Pictures
I had some pictures I thought I'd post because they are funny and pretty much tell a story about A Day in the Life of Me.
Here are the kids playing in Malia's crib. OK, you think, so what? The kids are playing with each other - great! Well, I wasn't in the room. I was putting away laundry. I heard giggling and walked in on them like this. Meaning, I did not put Malia in the crib. She cannot climb in herself - she's too little. I asked Kael how did Malia get in?? He replied I did it, Mom! I put Malia in.
Hmm. That's... good. I think. I do wonder how he did it. Did he climb in first and then pull her up? Or did he push her from behind, essentially having her land on her face? I don't think I'll ever know. And quite honestly, I'm not sure I want to know. As long as necks aren't broken, I'm happy to stay ignorant.
This is Malia's face while playing with markers. After having such a great time with paints, I decided to let them draw with markers and dot markers. Things I thought were easier to manage than paints.
Taking a lesson from the painting session, she decided to tattoo herself. This is a bad habit that I'm going to be hard-pressed to break.
For some reason she thought the markers were getting their color from the dot markers so she kept "dipping" the markers. It was funny to see how seriously she was in keeping with routine: dip, draw, dip, draw. When the markers read "Non-Toxic" they really mean that, right?
Horsey is an integral part of our family. In addition to feeding Horsey (which has resulted in mealtime disasters) she decided to tattoo him as well. I am just extremely grateful that I have 2 Horsey's. I'm still on the search for #3 though. The amount of time he spends in the washing machine is sure to shorten his lifespan.
They now have His and Her's tattoos. Fabulous.
The kids working on the poster that they gifted to Dad. Unfortunately it never made it to Dad's office because Kael thought it would be cool to use it as a parachute. Not surprisingly, the poster ended up in multiple pieces, so one of these afternoons, they will make another one. I will have to allow enough time to pass to dilute any toxicity of ink soaking through into Malia's skin first.
Here are the kids playing in Malia's crib. OK, you think, so what? The kids are playing with each other - great! Well, I wasn't in the room. I was putting away laundry. I heard giggling and walked in on them like this. Meaning, I did not put Malia in the crib. She cannot climb in herself - she's too little. I asked Kael how did Malia get in?? He replied I did it, Mom! I put Malia in.
Hmm. That's... good. I think. I do wonder how he did it. Did he climb in first and then pull her up? Or did he push her from behind, essentially having her land on her face? I don't think I'll ever know. And quite honestly, I'm not sure I want to know. As long as necks aren't broken, I'm happy to stay ignorant.
This is Malia's face while playing with markers. After having such a great time with paints, I decided to let them draw with markers and dot markers. Things I thought were easier to manage than paints.
Taking a lesson from the painting session, she decided to tattoo herself. This is a bad habit that I'm going to be hard-pressed to break.
For some reason she thought the markers were getting their color from the dot markers so she kept "dipping" the markers. It was funny to see how seriously she was in keeping with routine: dip, draw, dip, draw. When the markers read "Non-Toxic" they really mean that, right?
Horsey is an integral part of our family. In addition to feeding Horsey (which has resulted in mealtime disasters) she decided to tattoo him as well. I am just extremely grateful that I have 2 Horsey's. I'm still on the search for #3 though. The amount of time he spends in the washing machine is sure to shorten his lifespan.
They now have His and Her's tattoos. Fabulous.
The kids working on the poster that they gifted to Dad. Unfortunately it never made it to Dad's office because Kael thought it would be cool to use it as a parachute. Not surprisingly, the poster ended up in multiple pieces, so one of these afternoons, they will make another one. I will have to allow enough time to pass to dilute any toxicity of ink soaking through into Malia's skin first.
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