A Little Hello

Hello! I know it's been a while since we last posted. Just been busy. That's all. Nothing major. We're still here, and we're glad that you've stopped by.

Bear says hello. She is sorry she hasn't had much time to spend with you. Her schedule has been jam-packed with play dates, birthday parties and more play dates, but she hasn't forgotten about you.



She wanted to tell you all about her bicycle and how she hopes to learn to ride it someday. She's also been taking good care of her brother and taking the time to sing songs loudly wherever she goes.

Chipmunk also says hello. He is sorry that he hasn't had the opportunity to tell you what he's been up to. He's been busy crawling around and learning how to pull himself to a standing position.



About 2 weeks ago he had an epiphany and realized how much fun it is to be him. He enjoys his car rides, loves playing with his sister (crawls after her screaming with glee), and enjoys eating all his meals. His mom thinks he's a completely different baby sometimes. So he's sorry he hasn't had time to post, but he's been busy enjoying life.

So hello to all of you out there! We hope you are all well, too.

Medical Mystery

Matt went to bed last night after dosing himself with some Nyquil trying to shake off the chills. I managed to put Chipmunk to sleep despite his head congestion and inability to breathe through his nose. Bear woke up at about 10:30 whimpering on and off because she was having trouble with her stuffy nose and couldn't comfortably fall asleep again for hours

Me? I'm quite well.

It's a medical mystery to me. I'm always healthy and my family is wheezing up a storm around me. I get the least amount of sleep, too. If anything, I should be the one who is sick all the time. It doesn't make sense to me.

My optimistic friends always tell me, "what's wrong with that? That's a good thing because then there is someone to take care of the rest of the family." True. If I was sick with the rest of them, I'd still have to take care of them all, just feel miserable while doing so.

I was sick a lot as a kid. Perhaps that has something to do with it. It got to the point where people stopped taking care of me because I already knew how to take care of myself. Whenever I came down with something, I got the, "oh she'll be fine-she's always sick" response, whereas my sister would complain of a stomach pain and they were plotting which route to take to the hospital. Then again, she just didn't get sick that often. Now she gets sick everytime she hangs out with my kids. Go figure.

So for the next couple of days and nights I'll be taking care of my family. I just hope after they're healthy again, they'll let me sleep for a couple of days.

Mommy in Distress

It's been a rough day with Chipmunk. He caught a cold and is having trouble sleeping. At one rough moment in the day, Bear ran up and said, "Mommy, I come rescue you, okay?"

Sweet kid.

For the Smiles

I've decided that putting in the effort and taking our kids on special outings is beneficial for the whole family. The kids get to take in some culture, fun and some fresh air. The parents get that warm fuzzy feeling inside when they see the tremendous smiles on their kids faces.

This week we went to the County Fair. Some highlights:

Bear's First Pony Ride



We were standing by the pony ride deciding where to go next, when Bear turned to Matt and asked, "I ride pony?" Uh, okay.

Seeing all the Animals



Her favorite was by far the bunny ("pet bunny like Curious George?" she asked). She also got to pet a bearded dragon, see some turtles, ooh and aah at the baby farm animals, and visit with some tarantulas at an insect display.

Hanging Around



Chipmunk was dying to get out and move around. Unfortunately, the fair doesn't have too many places for babies to stretch their legs. He had to settle for riding in the sling wrap with me. I can't tell you how many times people stopped to say hello to Chipmunk. He got more attention than some of the displays we visited.

Fried Foods

When at the fair, you have to eat fried foods.



We stuck with funnel cake. but deep fried artichoke hearts and deep fried cupcakes did pique my interest. Gotta love that fair food!

Trains

Once again, Bear rode a train. A carnival train, of course.



There was this really neat model train exhibit, too. It was impressive and I wish I had gotten some pictures of it.

Ah, the County Fair.

My Favorite Bear Moments (Spoken)

Bear runs into the kids section at a local bookstore and sees a book with a stuffed unicorn next to it.

Bear: Oooh, wow, Goats!
Me: No, those are unicorns.
Bear: Oooh, wow, CORNS!

Bear gets stuck on a staircase that has a landing in the middle that you can either take another set of stairs back down or take a set to the upper floor.

Bear:(sobbing hysterically) I got lost on da hill, mommy!

Bear converses with the doctor when we take Chipmunk to see her.

Bear: Hi doctor! Baby hurt foot...fix it! Ummm, maybe bandage.

Bear tries to console Chipmunk when I step away for a minute

Bear: Okay, Baby. Good boy. Mommy right back. Here play Sonja...Hey! Don't! (Yells) Moooooommmmmmy! Baby eat Sonja! Now dirty! Needs bath. ("Sonja needs a bath" is what we tell her when Sonja mysteriously goes away and comes back clean a minute later)

Bear singing "Where is Thumbkin?" when she thinks no one is looking

Bear: Where is pumpkin? Where is pumpkin? How are you? How are you? Na na na na day sir. Va ma na ma dank you. Wun away. Wun away.

Bear is getting irritated with her brother playing with her toys and runs over to grab whatever toy he is playing with

Bear: Aaaaaiiiii-yaaaaa! Baby! Not yours!

Yeah, I'm guessing Kai lan has something to do with the last one. I'm a fan of "ai-goo" myself (Korean interjection - for those of you who don't know)

Most of the reason I'm recording these here is because I don't want to forget those little sayings that make me laugh from day to day. I hope that when she gets older I can return here and show her how silly she was at the age of two.

Little Friends are Hard to Find

Sometimes you just don't know what will become your child's best friend and comfort. Bear has her Sonja. Sonja is the ragged, gray, fraying love of her life. It would devastate her if she were to ever disappear. It was disheartening enough to watch her cry after Sonja fell in a mud puddle. Because of this, and here's our little secret, we actually have two Sonja dolls. When Bear started becoming attached we luckily found Sonja still available at our local toy store. So we took the advice of a friend and started alternating Sonja dolls unbeknownst to our little girl.

Recently, a friend of ours found another Sonja doll and gave it to us to use somehow. So now our count is at three, but one of them is pristeen. I guess we could wash it a few times, run it over with the car, drag it through a sandbox to give it that timeworn look and throw that one in the mix, but for now we'll keep it shiny and new just in case.

Chipmunk has a little brown beanie bear that he's been becoming attached to. Whenever he gets his hands on it, he shoves the little brown nose into his mouth. When he's tired, he rests his head against the belly and in bed he rolls his arm around the tiny bear body. So we decided that perhaps we better look for at least one other. I think Matt just ordered three of them. Sounds crazy, I know, but we had to do quite some searching for this little brown bear. According to it's maker's website, it's RETIRED! So I think he figured that we bite the bullet now instead of searching later for a retired toy bear.

So that's our secret. We've got multiples.

Shhh...don't tell our kids.

Baby Got Toejam

Once again we visited the doctor today. It seems Chipmunk's big toe on his right foot is marred. We think his toenail snagged, ripped and eventually it just got infected. This lead to an ingrown toenail and our poor little Chipmunk has to take some antibiotics and undergo some foot-soaking treatments as we pray it will mend. If not, he might have to go see a foot specialist, who will probably have to do a minor surgery on his toe.

Yup, his poor little toenail is jammed in his poor little toe.

Poor baby. You should see him wince whenever his toe is grazed.

From 8/31

Trapped

It's official. We have movement. Chipmunk is combat crawling his way through our home and quickly invading areas of which we haven't re-childproofed. So we've resorted to blockades made of toy bins, chairs and the existing couches. Which makes me laugh at myself because before Bear was born, I was adamant about not having to cage in our child. Yet, once we found our crawling infant getting into places where dirty shoes lie or near electrical equipment, that notion was quickly reneged, just without the fancy gate. So Chipmunk has his little play area and all the more dangerous toys are located outside the "fence."

Now that he's getting some exercise, does this mean he's going to lose his Buddha like physique?

Parking Spot vs. Dignity?

Today the kids and I had a great morning at the Farmers' Market. We saw some friends, bought some fruits and vegetables, played at the playground and took a nice stroll in the sunshine. After changing a diaper and then feeding Chipmunk, we got ready to leave.

Packing the car is no easy task. Both kids need to be buckled in and made sure that all is comfortable. The stroller needs to be disassembled and packed back into the crowded trunk. All diaper bags, purses and such need to be placed back into the car and then last of all, I need to settle in before driving away.

All the while this was happening a young man in a sedan waited patiently for my spot. I felt bad for him having to sit there and wait. But I guess once you commit to a parking spot, sometimes you really want to see it through to the end.

Just as I was about to pull out, a woman in her SUV with what looked like a 4 year old sitting in the front seat (unsafe?) decided to try and swoop into the spot at the last minute. I felt bad for the young man in the sedan so I pulled back into the spot and tried to wave the woman in the SUV to leave. She instead pulled in further.

So the sedan man pulled up next to the SUV lady and told her calmly but firmly that she was unfairly seizing a spot that he so patiently invested his time into. The SUV lady looked at him and didn't respond. Since this debacle was happening at my back bumper, I couldn't leave, nor did I want to lest the SUV lady got her way.

He reasoned again and then the SUV lady pretended not to speak any English. What?! In any language you should get the point when cars behind you are blaring their horns and the person in the parking spot is waving you to move on. I was apalled at the gall of this woman, and even more baffled by the example she was teaching the four year old in the front seat.

The young sedan man then graciously backed off, and the SUV lady, to my chagrin, got her spot. Why oh why do people do things like this? It's just a parking spot for goodness sake!

So SUV lady, if you're out there I have to ask, was it worth it? Was it worth teaching your 4 year old to lie and treat others with disdain? Was it worth causing grief to that many people? Was it worth trading your dignity for a parking spot? Because you know, when that upstanding young man gave you the spot despite all you did, he showed that he had his head in the right place. He earned my respect and proved his dignity. You, on the otherhand, well...I have nothing nice to say, so I just won't say anything at all.

Last to Bed

It's late. I know. This is just how it always is. I'm always the last to bed.

I just need to decompress after each day, and it seems that the length of decompression increases with each child added to the family. So I end up staying up late even though my body so desperately needs the sleep to function the next day.

That's just how it is with introverts. It's nice to be with other people, but afterwards it's even nicer to just be by yourself.

So I read, or blog, or even sew for an hour or so just to unwind before settling in. Then I go about the house, pick things up, turn off lights and head off to bed. Even before I step into our bedroom I detour into the kids room and watch their sweet little faces as they sleep.

Then once I feel that all is well, I'll climb into bed, tuck myself into the covers, and close my eyes. And it's those moments before I fall asleep where I replay my day, analyze my actions, muse in appreciation and sometimes have creative swirls that develop into ideas and plans.

Then after all is said and done, I finally sleep.

Empty Tank

Chipmunk got his official 6 month weigh in today.

19 pounds, 9 ounces heavy (75%)
28 and a half inches tall (95%)
Working on tooth number 7, 8 and 9

Just as Bear did, Chipmunk has been getting some nice nicknames, too.

"Tank" "Little Linebacker" "Man-child" "Bubba"

He's been night-waking the past couple nights...a lot. The doctor concluded that he just wasn't getting enough to eat. I was just feeding him the proper amount according to the books. She said I needed to double it! So poor kid has been starving and going to sleep on an empty tank.

So when we got home I doubled his meal portion and he gobbled it right up! Now he is happily napping on a full tank.

Myself!

Bear's latest rant usually involves her doing things on her own. She'll tell me, "no Mommy, I do it myself!" It's cute, but it reminds me of lessons that took me 30 years to learn...

I ran for student body president when I was in 5th grade. One of the things I wanted to do was fold a bunch of origami cranes and use them as handouts for my campaign. After folding a couple, I found it was too big of a task. My parents and my sister ended up helping me fold hundreds of cranes only after I cried in frustration. I remember my mom telling me, "why didn't you just ask for help?"

Chemistry was never my best subject (probably why I became a Biology major instead) and I remember how frustrated I was with my homework. I think I gave up half way down a worksheet because it just didn't make any sense...plus I had it in my head that my Chem teacher was nuts and didn't teach us a thing about how to work the problems. Instead of asking for help, I failed that chapter. Again I remember my mom helping me with the next chapter and asking me, "why didn't you just ask for help?"

In college I spent more of my time studying trying to learn how to work things on my own rather than use office hours to visit and discuss things with my professors, which probably would have been more beneficial. As a teacher I spent too much time muddling through trial and error rather than asking my colleagues for the best way they found to teach certain difficult concepts. Even when I'm toting around 2 kids and having difficulties, my first instinct is to try and find a way to deal with it on my own instead of simply asking a friend for a hand. That's just the way I am and I know it's not always a good thing.

Even my friends and family are keen to my problem. I often get told, "because I know you won't ask for help..." Of course I wonder if it's pride, fear or just plain stubbornness that makes me overburden myself so.

So it tickles a nerve within me when Bear makes her declaration to do things "Myself!" Of course, I always let her try because I love that she wants to learn, but my 30 years of "should-haves" always pushes me to tell her, "okay, but if you need help, just ask, alright?" And you know what? She does.

Yum Yum in the Tum

Avocado is yum. It makes a great face mask, too!

That's A Sport?

I'm sorry, but I don't understand how synchronized diving is an Olympic sport. Can anyone explain to me why they add this to the official roster but take away baseball and softball?

Food, Glorious Food

Here's Chipmunk getting his first few bites of rice cereal.



He's been waiting for this day for a long time.



Ah, finally. Real food at last.

In Over My Head

With 2 kids in tow, VBS is here again and I'm back in the crafts center leading 120 kids to glue, cut and color. It's been...well, it's been interesting. Perhaps I'm just a little bit crazy...especially since I've left my almost 6-month old in the care of a 14 year old. And I felt totally crazy as I was running from the crafts center to feed my kid quickly before the next group came in for instruction. Add on the stupidity that I've been feeling lately (I actually addressed someone by her husband's name today...how? I don't know) and somewhere I've found myself completely in over my head.

At least I feel like I'm floundering.

Besides that it's just been a crazy week...It's been emotional as I've been hearing about multiple painful events happening in the lives of my friends. There was a joyful wedding that I got to help celebrate. A goodbye party for my sister and a tearful send off as she drove off to her new home far, far away from here. A reunion with friends and catch up, seeing some visitors from afar who I haven't seen in over a decade, a quick visit for the kids with grandma and then headlong into a busy, busy week of VBS, all after barely recovering from our trip to Lo-Cal (as a friend of mine has dubbed it).

I won't even go into what's on our plate for next week.

But ya know, it is what it is...and despite my hopefully temporary insanity, it's being done and what I thought was going to be impossible with two kids, has moved into the category of somewhat doable. I'm there, I'm leading crafts, and so far neither of my kids have turned their heads to me and said, "you're such a terrible mom and I can't believe you're dragging us around like this!" Bear actually ran up to me in the middle of the day and gave me a quick hug and then ran off to join her little friends in a game of hot potato with the "big bouncy ball (she said with a face full of glee)." Chipmunk even managed to nap for over an hour despite the noise and many distractions.

It's been a validating experience. Despite a few of my fumbles (miscalculating numbers of craft supplies and forgetting my classroom management style) we made it to Wednesday of which I was imagining all hell breaking loose on Monday.

So I'm in a little deep, but thank God for that snorkel (um, metaphor). That's what seems to be keeping me going.

In Need of Brain Food

The hardest thing I've been dealing with since Chipmunk has been born is this feeling of stupidity day in and day out. It's an "oh-my-gosh-I-can't-believe-that-slipped-my-mind" kind of stupidity. I used to "tsk" at people who I thought were lacking common sense, but you know what, somehow I've found myself right there, being that of which irks me. I used to pride myself for being organized (mentally, not physically) and being able to remember the lists of things I needed to accomplish. I was the go-to person in our house when things were lost. Somehow I always knew where things were.

These days, I am constantly slapping the heel of my hand to my forehead because of something else "stupidity" made me do.

I know, I know...I have two kids. I have an excuse for being scatterbrained, or at least that's what people tell me...Or they say, "but you just had a baby," like that's supposed to make me feel better for the fact that I said "Ooops" one too many times in a 24 hour period.

It's not just the dishes(count is at 8 now), it's the shopping trips where I take written lists with me and I come home with only 75% of the list because I forgot to look at the bottom of the paper (yes, the lists were written by me). It's the way I search the house up and down each day for my keys and find that I already retrieved them and put them in my pocket. It's when I change one of the kids diapers twice because I thought I changed the other one first. Stupid, stupid, stupid (currently hitting forehead with palm).

"I feel like I can't do anything right," has become my number one complaint to Matt these days. This being said as I've forgotten to pay some bills, bumped the car into a pole, or burned dinner to a cajun crisp because I thought I turned the burner off when I actually didn't.

See? Totally lost it. And it's driving this semi-control freak a little batty.

So please, if you see me and I've become the clueless woman walking down the street with toilet paper stuck to her shoe, just kindly slap me upside the head and tell my brain to "wake up!" I do miss her.

Joy

Ah. The joy of 2 kids. Other parents have been warning me that the time will come when Bear and Chipmunk won't be like this...but rather fighting over toys, over food, over everything.

Let's just enjoy this for the time being. I'll deal with the fighting when it comes.

San Diego 2008

Apparently this is becoming an annual thing.

On to the picture show...

After feeling like we were never going to get there (big, bad accident - jammed for 20 miles) we finally arrived, a little frazzled sitting in a car with one complaining toddler and one crying baby. Thus our weekend began.

The zoo was our first stop.





It was a little chaotic traveling with about 13 kids, but somehow we made it around the zoo. If you ask Bear about her favorite part of the zoo she will probably tell you about the "Pah-das (Pandas)" or the "Jee-raffs (Giraffes)."

My favorite part was visiting the Security office, asking to use the phone, and leaving Matt a message that sounded like this, "Hi, uh, I don't know where you are, my phone is dead, and I'm in the security office with Chipmunk who pooped, by the way, and needs a new change of clothes." Matt came to our rescue 20 minutes later. As we were changing Chipmunk, a couple of women walked by, pointed at our naked baby and laughed saying, "oh my gosh, that looks like the baby in the email!" It's unfortunate that I knew which email they were talking about.

The next day, I stupidly forgot the camera, but had a blast with some good friends who live in San Diego (Thanks again!). Matt on the other hand spent his day elsewhere.

Sunday we went to Sea World. Bear was excited because all week we told her how we were going to have breakfast with Elmo. She seemed a little nervous when we got there though.



She was okay in the beginning...



But after a while, those larger than life characters started to freak her out.



Here's Bear climbing up onto the table to avoid getting hugged back by Elmo.



With some tears, but okay with Zoe.



Not too happy with Grover.



Absolutely unhappy with Ernie.



Chipmunk on the other hand was quite happy.



He was a little annoyed though that Daddy wouldn't share his food with him.

Bear was fine once all the characters took their leave. So the rest of the day she was happily telling us all about dolphins and whales that "Spyash." We made sure to visit the turtles more than once (because she kept asking to see them) and cooled off in the Polar Bear exhibit (Boy was it hot that day!). Chipmunk decided to take a 2 hour nap in the wrap sling while Bear played in the kids play area.

We closed our weekend the way it began (stuck in traffic - listening to crying and complaining) and now we are home and all excited about sleeping in our own beds again. Until next year!

The 2nd Floor is Always Better...

I don't remember who (it might have been my mom) told me that 2nd floor apartments are always better. As I've lived in various places, I'm beginning to see why.

1) The 2nd floor is SAFER. It's mostly the apartments on the bottom floor that get burglarized. One time while living in San Diego a neighbor was telling my roommate and I about how some random guy broke into their livingroom window (on the 1st floor)and walked upstairs into their bedroom in the middle of the night. They woke up, the husband yelled and the guy fled. They theorized that he was looking for some apartments with females(scary!)...we always made sure our livingroom window was closed and locked after that.

2) The 2nd floor has LESS WILDLIFE. During college I lived on the 5th floor of our on-campus apartments. The only wildlife we had in our apartment was Cocoa, the hamster who liked to escape and greet us at the door. It was much too high for ants and mice. Meanwhile, downstairs on the 1st floor my future husband was setting up glue traps and spraying bugs that would crawl in from the nearby canyon.

3) The 2nd floor (if it's the top floor) has LESS NOISE. When you live below you tend to hear a lot more noise. Living on an upper floor, you forget how much the people below you can hear. Our 5th floor apartment during 2nd year of college was smack dab below a bunch of rowdy boys. Their bathroom was right above our bedroom...sometimes in the middle of the night, my roommate and I could hear things we really didn't want to hear...Gave new meaning to Eine Kleine NachtMusik.

4) The 2nd floor has GRAVITY. Okay, so all apartments have gravity, but when you have a leak on the 2nd floor, it runs downstairs. Case in point.

5) And finally, the 2nd floor is FARTHER FROM THE GROUND...and farther from sewage leaks! I know, yuck, right? Apparently, gallons and gallons of sewage have been blocked and pooling underneath our apartment. Ugh. They cleared the blockage and the sewage has moved on, but the smell still lingers a little. Ew! Perhaps I shouldn't have been so quick to complain about the crazy van man and his incense. We could use that sandalwood smell right about now.

***Update: So the plumber came back and poured bleach all over the place. The sewage smell is gone, but man, the bleach smell is overpowering. I've got the world's worst headache right now from the fumes. That can't be good.

Sibling Love

This picture sums up the relationship between Chipmunk and Bear these days. Bear has this proud "little mama" look like she's actually helping her brother out by patting his head and telling him in a high pitched voice, "good boy, little baby!" Chipmunk just looks like he can't wait for the day where he can do unto his sis what his sis has done to him. Ah, sibling love. Ain't it grand?

Lessons Learned

Curiosity is a good thing, right? I've been trying to tell myself that even though in the back of my mind I know what happened to the cat.

Bear has been quite curious lately...she's apparently following too closely after her television idol, Curious George. I find myself putting out fires (metaphorical, not real, thank goodness) and surveying the damage to make sure that (1) no one needs to be rushed to the hospital and (2) the damage isn't permanent. It's getting exhausting.

Some of Bear's curiosities:

- Finding out what happens when you stick things in keyholes. I've had to pry a few things out.

- Finding out what happens when you take things apart...like our camera tripod...she managed to unscrew a few pieces where it just fell apart when I picked it up one day. We're still looking for some pieces...

- Finding out what happens when you push buttons...anywhere. We all know what happened to our DVD player. She's also been leaving lights on in our car, turning on the vacuum unplugged (so when you plug it in...), reprogramming alarm clocks to go off in the middle of the night, recording random things on TiVo, and changing preferences on Matt's computer.

These are all relatively, minor though. Some more recent occurrences have had me a little more on edge lately.

- Climbing onto unsturdy boxes in order to explore what's hanging out where she can't see. I tend to hear the aftermath of things crashing to the ground (Lesson Learned! It hurts when you fall and things fall on top of you).

- Putting cds and dvds into the vcr and frustratedly ramming them in while yelling, "don't work!" (Lesson Learned! Breaking the VCR and the DVDs isn't a good thing)

- Climbing under our car in order to get to the other side (Lesson Learned! You get your clothes all dirty and mommy freaks out when she finds out where you were).

- And this morning...coming up to me with a gaping hole in her pajama shirt, of which she announced, "cut scissors...fix it!" (Thankfully, she only cut the shirt and not anything else...phew!...although she was a little sad because it was her favorite shirt - Lesson Learned! Don't play with scissors because sometimes the damage can't be fixed!)

Of course, when all of this happens I always ask myself, where was I when all of this happened? She's so sneaky. She actually waits until my back is turned, when I've stepped away a couple of minutes, or looked in the other direction before she runs for some forbidden object. Even when I put things away, she watches me to see where I put it and comes for it later.

Diabolical, I tell you. Or just curious...

Utterly Incapable

Today I hit my breaking point...literally.

I broke my 7th dish since Chipmunk was born.

I've been saying we needed to make more room in our cupboards, but this is not what I meant.

It's things like this that make me feel so utterly incapable.

Apparently, parenthood just has a way of doing that.

Sigh.

Summer Breezes

Summer is hot. Summer is fun. Summer is busy...

Summer continues to breeze on by...

Bear has been taking an art class. Her favorite pastime in class is using the scissors. Perhaps it's because we don't own any kiddie scissors at home so she's been deprived that she makes a bee line for those colorful plastic cutters. Occasionally she'll glue, but most of her artwork just has this fringe around the outside where she went scissors happy.



Well, except the windsock which was supposed to have fringe...which she happily snip-snipped.

July 4th we spent the day with some of my longtime friends (minus one who we missed terribly)...We tried to get some good pictures of the kids together...but if you know anything about taking pictures of multiple kids...it just never works out...especially with five of them...

At night we went to view the fireworks. Bear enjoyed her corn...



...and Chipmunk was a little fussy, at least until the fireworks started and then he was mesmerized for the whole half hour show.



Until next post...summer will continue to breeze on by.

A Thin Line

Fun and torture have a thin line drawn between them when you're a parent. Sometimes you have to carefully weigh your options before and ask yourself, "will we have fun or is this going to be more trouble than it's worth?" That's what we ask ourselves every time before venturing out.

This past weekend we went to our annual church retreat. After throwing half of our worldly belongings into the car and driving a little ways, we ended up on a local university campus unpacking into a dorm room. We ate meals in a cafeteria, crowded with people from other on-campus events, and spent most of our time walking from one place to another to make sure we made it to events mostly on time.

With two small kids in tow we made sure to come prepared. Naps were short or non-existent, mealtimes were chaotic making sure all were fed properly, and my mind was racing with lists making sure we were appropriately ready for all things.

Sometimes there were meltdowns and bouts of inconsolable crying. We witnessed falls and spills that resulted in bruises and bumps. There was separation anxiety, rebelling against the unfamiliar and constant complaining and whining.

So was it worth it?

Absolutely.

Although the moment we came home we were cleaning up oodles of poop that the kids stored up over the course of the weekend, we had a weekend of wonderful memories...the great conversations we had with old friends and new friends, the smile on Bear's marker covered face as she showed us the picture she created, the wiggling excitement of Chipmunk as we ventured from one place to another, learning and reflecting and being refreshed...

There's just something about coming home and realizing that we actually made it through the weekend. Even when you're standing over the sink oxy-cleaning playdough stains from shorts and pondering how to put sleeping schedules back in order, you have to smile and be thankful for the joys that outweigh the trouble.

4 and a half months

Chipmunk still amazes me with his massiveness...

17 pounds 13 ounces (95%ile)
26 inches long (90%ile)
2 teeth (and 2 more on the way)



Whoa.

Bear's Latest Antics

...roaming around our home flapping her arms yelling, "Cockle Doo!"

...singing medleys of all her favorite sings..."Twinkle, twinkle, little dar, how I know my ABCs, Itsy pie-der falling down, Where thumb-pin, here am, E-I-Ooooooh..."

...purposely pushing her brother while he is propped up in a sitting position on the couch and then innocently asking, "oh what happened? Brudder fell down?"

...pointing to the moles on my arms, saying, "mommy hurts" and running to get a wipe to apparently try to wipe the spots off.

...when asked where Chipmunk's chin is she says, "here, here, here...three chins!"

...coming out to the livingroom after her nap and poignantly announcing, "I woke up" (Yup, it took her a whole month before she figured she could get out of bed herself).

...sitting at the dinner table and roaring like a dinosaur, laughing her head off and saying, "oh no, dino-door (dinosaur) table!"

...running up to Chipmunk speaking in a high squeaky voice, "Hello Baby [Chipmunk]...good boy you! Eat milk! Pay(play) toys!"

...while climbing stairs, "Yook mommy, I up-ping da stairs!"

...spinning, spinning, spinning until she runs into something, laughs and says, "whoa diz-zee."

Thoughtless

Tonight I was blessed to escape for a few hours and spend some time sans kids, sans husband. It was girl night. We ate, chatted, and ate some more. We caught up, we laughed, we enjoyed each other's company and I lapped up every precious minute.

I had a problem though: my words were rather incohesive. There I was, my first real adult conversation after giving birth to Chipmunk, and it was like my thoughts and my words weren't coordinating. Plus my thoughts were going every which way. It was like I didn't know how to think properly either (which may be true since I haven't had a good think session in ages). So I would say something, but realize that it wasn't what I was trying to convey...or I would have trouble piecing together words to match the thoughts in my head.

They say you lose brain cells with every pregnancy...I think I lost the ones connecting thought and speech...or I'm just out of practice since I've been in baby/toddler world.

But thanks...to you ladies who forbeared through my stammerings and brain farts. Not only did I get to laugh again but I got to feel normal again...and I know that will refresh me for days to come. (Thanks to Matt, too, for putting the kids to bed)

The Early Bird

Or should I say Early Chipmunk?

I'm beginning to settle with the fact that Chipmunk is just an early riser. Because of that, he's also early to bed. I hear that's normal. I just didn't know that.

Bear is apparently a late bird. I thought that was normal. She used to wake up at 9 am in the morning. Before Chipmunk was born, she started waking up around 8 am. I thought that was early.

Then Chipmunk comes along and wakes up at 6 am. Everyday. 6 am. I have to put him to bed around 7:30 at night...and only that late because I want him to at least see his dad for 5 minutes before we put him to bed.

6 am. I can't get over it. I know it's normal for most kids...It's just so weird that I have to entertain him for an hour and put him down for his first nap before Bear even gets up for the first time.

Speaking of which, perhaps I should be going to bed sooner, too. Time to log off.

Trains, Red Eggs, and Fathers...

We went out of town again this past weekend... It was a visit to the grandparents, yes, but we had a full agenda this weekend.

We took the kids to the train museum...



Bear was loving every moment. She was running around yelling, "Wow! Choo Choo Chain!"



Chipmunk enjoyed the train museum, too, in his own little way.

Saturday was Chipmunk's Red Egg and Ginger Party.



Our little man all dressed up for his shindig.



Red Eggs with Ginger



Bear eating...again.



Chipmunk had fun, but got all tuckered out after a while.

And Father's Day...Bear made sure to wish her dad and grandpa "Happy Dodders Day!" while Chipmunk decided to have a super cranky day (of which he sprouted another tooth).

Then we made the trip home...which in some ways was more daunting than the rest of the weekend...but we made it back...home sweet home.

Stunned!

Chipmunk surprised me this morning when he bit me and it felt sharp. After a few minutes of trying to convince an almost 4-month old to "open wide" I stuck my finger in there and felt it...his first tooth breaking through his gummy surface. I was stunned! I'm still stunned! Bear got her first tooth early, but not this early. I guess he's just trying to one-up his sister. Argh.

Wordless

I don't know what to write about these days. I've been suffering from writer's block.

I'm also suffering from mommy brain (wait! whose diaper did I just change?), butterfingers (broke two dishes this week!) and just general lack of common sense (let's take this out of the oven without an oven mitt!).

So I'll end here, before I hurt myself with the keyboard somehow.

White

After my shower this morning, I mentioned to Matt that I'm losing all my hair. All that hair that the pregnancy hormones helped me retain are now falling out. It's a verifiable mess since my hair has reached super lengths

In the car Matt pointed out that I had two white hairs and said. "too bad the white ones didn't fall out."

White hairs. Ever since I turned thirty, I've been finding white hairs. I think they're stress related. Or I should say that I hope they're stress related.

Of course I know one day that may not be the case...So this time I'm going to ignore that old adage about plucking out white hairs and hope beyond hope that they don't come back.

Short

Lately, I've been a little short. Short tempered, that is.

Perhaps it's because my sleep is short.

How's that for a short post?

Outdoor Babies

My kids just tend to do better when we go out. I just have to bite the bullet and pack up the car everyday so we spend some happier moments out of the house. Bear seems to be happy wherever we go as long as Sonja is there with her. Chipmunk seems to like being in outdoorsy settings. Today at the Farmers' Market he wouldn't nap, but was enjoying himself and laughing whenever the wind blew upon his face. Funny baby.

I just have such a hard time motivating myself to pack them both up into the car with all their numerous necessary accouterments.

Here's our morning at the park on Monday.



Bear enjoyed climbing. Although Dad was helping her, she would periodically yell over to me, "Yook, Mommy! Climbing!"



Why don't parks have sand anymore? What is this wooded junk covering the playground floor? Regardless, Bear seemed to enjoy throwing it around.



Chipmunk enjoyed the park in his own way, feeling the wind blow into his face.



The clouds were looking a little ominous after a while, so we couldn't spend too long, but at least our babies got to have some outdoor time.

3 months and 100 days

It still amazes me how babies magically change once they hit 3 months. Chipmunk was suddenly super-smiley and happy. And colic? What colic? It's like it never happened. I actually thought this week, "huh, I guess looking back, it wasn't that bad." Of course, when Matt reads this he'll probably give me a look and say, "Wasn't that bad?!?! Are you kidding me?"

Of course, it's probably just the mommy-endorphins talking. You know, the ones that even though pregnancy sucked, labor was short of torture, and the first 2 months after giving birth were just cry-fests day in and day out, you suddenly after a few months think, "I'm ready to give it another go!" Meanwhile, the husband is burying his head in his hands asking himself if he was the only one who remembers accurately the past few months of crazy mommy moments.

Anyway, back to Chipmunk...Today is officially his 100th day! For Bear I wrote her a poem when she met her milestone. For Chipmunk, I put together a collage of his 100 days.



Happy baek-il, Chipmunk!

Two against Two...and then some

It's two against two. Two parents versus two kids. I've heard parents discuss their choice on having only 2 kids with their reason being that once the third comes, the kids outnumber the parents. Right now our family is at a stalemate. If Bear needs something and I've got Chipmunk in hand, she gets directed to her dad, or Chipmunk gets dropped off with dad so I can attend to the Bear. It's a constant dance of "tag, you're it!" with the kids floating between us.

Then again during the day when Matt is at work, it's a whole different scenario. I have no one to pass off a kid to, so I'm juggling both of them at the same time. Of course trying to put 100% focus on two places is impossible so sometimes you miss things.

I just keeping thinking about how in the world I'll be able to keep tabs on both kids when Chipmunk becomes mobile.

Speaking of mobile, I loved how Bear pretty much stayed in the same place until she was 7 months old. Chipmunk gave Matt and I a scare one day when we found him napping like this:



He was two feet from where he started! I guess I really better start putting him down for his naps in his crib from now on.

Liars

My mom always tells me that our kids have this knack for making liars out of us. I often write about how my kids are little "troublemakers," yet when we go out, or are in the midst of other people, my kids are little angels. Bear, of course, is the charmer, smiling her cute little smile, waving hello, sharing Sonja, and of course, being her wonderful little self. Chipmunk is super-mellow, smiles at anyone, and loves to chat up a storm if you get him in the right mood.

So no one but us sees the pouting, crying, temper tantrums, whining and all in all everyday fussing. I guess if there are no witnesses, then we can't prove we actually have 2 little "troublemakers." I guess we'll just have to live as supposed liars.

No More Expectations

Bear has been sleeping in her new bed these past couple of days. So far it's been a relatively easy transition. I was surprised. We put her down for her nap yesterday for the first time in her bed...she seemed hesitant, but I offered to lay down next to her and she agreed. That night, she whined a little bit, but lay down in the bed as long as Matt stayed there for a little bit. Today for her nap she lay down without a fuss and kicked me out of the room so she could get some shut-eye. I see.

The funny thing is she still acts like she's sleeping in the crib. She won't get out of the bed herself although it's only a half a foot off the ground. It's fine with us that she won't leave her bed until we come get her, but I thought that she'd love the instant freedom and hightail it out of her bed the moment she awoke. Not the case. I realize that one of these days she'll figure it out, but for now Matt and I realize that we have a good kid who is a good sleeper.

On the other hand, we have our 3 month old who we find has been "different" from Bear. Bear started sleeping through the night at 9 weeks. Chipmunk is 12 weeks and refuses to sleep through the night. He likes to wake up after 5 hours, eat, sleep for another 2 hours, eat, sleep for another 2 hours, eat and then sleep until the late morning. Bear would cry for about 10 minutes when we put her down and would fall asleep sucking on her fist. Chipmunk cries loudly for 30-45 minutes and then stops suddenly to fall asleep. During the day, he will not cry himself to sleep...he will cry until I finally soothe him to sleep. They're so different.

Bear was very scheduled. I didn't have to set her schedule, she basically set it herself. Chipmunk has no schedule whatsoever and all attempts at putting him on a schedule have failed miserably. Then again, Bear's naps were only 30 minutes at a time sometimes...Chipmunk naps for hours and hours, that is once he finally falls asleep. It's just too weird. I can't get over how opposite things have been so far.

I don't know what I was expecting, but it seems that whatever I expect is just wrong. I expected Bear to have a horrible time transitioning to a new bed and she's fine. I expected Chipmunk to have similar sleep patterns as Bear and he's completely the opposite. I expected Bear to have a hard time adjusting to Chipmunk's arrival, but she was completely okay. I expected to have an easier time feeding Chipmunk, but he's really difficult sometimes. He won't take all his milk at one time, likes to let go and make a mess, and he bites! Perhaps I should just stop having expectations.

Overshadowing

Every Mother's Day our church has child dedications. Yesterday we dedicated Chipmunk...he is young, but we figured, hey, now is as good a time as any. So we stood up in front of the congregation as a family and read our prayer to God for Chipmunk. It was good for us to remember that raising our kids isn't just making sure they're fed and washed, but teaching them values and character and the importance of spiritual care.

Our church is a decent size, so it can be rather daunting standing up in front and having all eyes focused on you. Then again while I was reading our prayer, most of the congregation was focusing their attention on Bear. From the corner of my eye I noticed her walk up to our pastor and proudly announce, "Doh-dya!" as she handed Sonja over to him. There was some snickering from the pews and I could see people smiling. When I finished reading, our pastor introduced Sonja to the whole congregation much to the delight of Bear.

After service ended quite a number of people came up to remark how "not shy" Bear was. True. Most dedications I've witnessed the older siblings are trying their best to become permanently attached to their parents' legs. Bear wandered around the stage as if she owned it.

So even though the dedication was supposed to be for Chipmunk, Bear apparently stole the show. Sometimes I wonder if their sibling relationship is going to be like that with Bear "overshadowing" her brother most of the time and Chipmunk just going along with whatever Bear does.

It reminded me of a time four years ago when my sister, my cousin (along with her husband and their then three kids at the time), and I visited our mutual fifth grade teacher who was retiring after thirty something years. It was amazing to see how after all these years she still loved kids and treated them with so much respect. I was in awe of her teaching skills most especially watching her interact with my cousin's two oldest. They were inspecting a strange something she had on display and the 6 year old asked what it was. Instead of just telling him she asked, "what do you think it is?" His response was "a feather." And instead of ignoring the 4 year old who was watching quietly a couple of feet away, she turned to him and asked, "and how about you?" He said, "a feather." Then she did something that really struck me. She said, "that's what your brother thinks, but what do you think it is?" The 4 year old looked at it again, thought about it and said, "I guess it looks like a snake." She smiled and told them it was the shed skin of a snake. She then bent down to the 4 year old's level, tapped him on the nose, smiled and said, "you are your own person...you make sure that you always say what you think and not what your brother thinks, okay?" It was very important to her that each kid expressed their own opinion, not just that day with my cousin's kids, but also as we were her students.

Needless to say, I'm curious to see how things will turn out with Bear and Chipmunk. Perhaps one of these days Chipmunk will develop his own strong personality and fight it out with his sister...or perhaps he'll be the quiet type who keeps his thoughts to himself allowing his sister to overshadow who he is. If that's the case, I'll have to learn how to create teachable moments as my fifth grade teacher did in order to help out Chipmunk's thoughts and opinions. Sibling dynamics. Interesting. I guess we'll just have to wait and see how things progress with them. I'll be sure to keep you all posted.


Our Mother's Day family picture

Mother's Day?

There was a tradition in my family growing up. Mother's Day was always terrible for my mom. It wasn't purposeful, but somehow throughout a day of what was supposed to celebrate our mom, my siblings and I would cause her more heartache. We would fight more for some reason, were more tired, crankier, threw more tantrums and fits, and were just horrible. By the end of the long day we spent more time apologizing to her rather than celebrating. I don't know what it was about that day.

I woke up on Mother's Day feeling super tired after a long night with Chipmunk to hear Bear pounding on the wall much earlier than was normal. We rushed to church, almost missed the child dedication, and then spent some time after service chatting with some friends. This is how Bear and Chipmunk spent the time:



Bear was tired and tried to throw a little tantrum at one point by throwing herself head first onto the floor. She was surprised to find that it hurt (well, I think she didn't realize that just beneath the carpet at church was concrete). Crying followed.



Chipmunk spent his time complaining and whining. He wanted to sleep, but wouldn't just sleep on his own. He also would ask to be fed, but then would use the time to bite his mom. Ouch.

Ah, fun.

For my mommy...

I was 6 when I opened my lunch and found a gummy smurf candy next to my sandwich and fruit. I knew it was from my mom and I loved it. It made my day.

I was 10 when I found out I was the kid with the "cool" mom. You know, the one that other kids always envied and wished was their own. My friends were all plotting how they could convince their moms to let them get their ears "double-pierced" and I didn't have to plot. My mom was the one with the double piercing, and she already asked if I wanted to do the same...I was chicken and said, "no."

I was 11 when I understood how difficult it must have been for my mom to be there for us while handling a full-time job. She took an odd job where she worked from midnight to noon just so she could be there to pick us up from school each day and spend the afternoons with us, when I know she probably just wanted to lay down in bed and snooze.

I was 13 when I was most hard on my mom...Well, I was a teenager. I was a hormonal, moody, teenager who slammed doors and thought that all rules were for sadistic purposes. Yet she was the one who was always there, talking things out with me, putting up with my emotional outbursts, and trying to reason with me when I was completely irrational. Being an unreasonable teenager I didn't take her words as seriously as I should have.

I was 17 when I had an epiphany and realized my mom was right. I was also living in a dorm, in a college, 110 miles away...I spent a lot of time on the phone calling home that year.

I was 20 when I figured out what a wonderful mother-daughter relationship we had when I read my 20th birthday card from her...I remember the vivid honesty in her words and I just cried when I read it. That was when I learned that a mom can also be one of your best friends.

I was 28 when I realized just how much my mom loved me. Holding my own daughter in my arms I learned all too quickly how tough it is being a mom...how often moms are taken for granted...how sacrifice is an everyday thing...how changing diapers and cleaning spit up is only the beginning of a lifelong process...how much patience is necessary...how dramatically life-altering it is...yet, moms do it all out of love and nothing more...

Thank you, mom. I love you, too.



Happy Mother's Day.

Accidental Troublemaker

Since Chipmunk has been born, Bear has been getting into trouble...a lot. The problem is she's not jealous or acting out towards him. She's just trying to be helpful...or playful...or she's just curious.

I found cookies all over the floor today. She was trying to sort them into two bowls because she wanted to share her cookies with me. Later I heard Chipmunk start wailing. I found him with a stuffed dog on his face that Bear left for him to "play" with. I scolded her later for pushing me as I was changing Chipmunk's diaper, but really she was making room for herself so she could watch. Just a few minutes ago, she was trying to share the remote with her brother but instead conked him on the head accidentally. Last night at dinner she spilled a bowl of food because she was determined to "help" daddy and serve him some potatoes.

It must be rough being a toddler, not really understanding what all these rules are for and people constantly telling you "no" all the time. I try to allow her the freedom to grow, to help her use her creativity and explore through her curiosity, but I find myself having to referee some of her endeavors. Telling her to sit down when we eat, reminding her that baby brothers need their space, and how sometimes we don't want a third helping of salad on our plates are just a few of the things I tell her daily.

She discovered the bouncer works great as a catapult, problem being Chipmunk tends to be the object she tries to catapult. One day she happily yelled, "hat!," while playing with plastic measuring cups and even tried them out on Chipmunk's head. She then yelled, "hammer!" which followed with an ear piercing 11 week old's cry...needless to say a timeout followed. She wants to give her brother a hug and instead of lightly embracing she pulls and tugs at him in an attempt to hold him herself, while we're trying to make sure she doesn't pull off an appendage.

She's slowly learning...and I guess this is just how kids learn that there are boundaries and limits...which in my mind are truly hard to set. I realize that there are some rules that are more important than others. Those regarding her safety and of others around her are most important. I'm also a stickler for rules that promote family togetherness and those that teach manners and politeness. It's just so hard to see her tear up because, well, she meant well, suddenly feels guilty for making her brother cry, and now she's being punished? Poor kid. I hope she'll understand someday soon.

Oh yes...

And before I forget...the numbers...

Chipmunk at 10 weeks

14 pounds and 12 ounces (95th percentile!)

Whoa baby!