Bear's Heart

It amazes me how Bear, at four years old, could have such a big heart. She just loves so much and wants to share it with everyone.

I see it in the way she cares for her little brother. She follows him around to make sure he's well taken care of. When she gets herself a snack, she makes sure to grab two bowls and share. When he falls down, she's the first one there asking him if he's okay and will run to the fridge to grab a cold pack to soothe him.

It doesn't matter whether you've met her once or played with her dozens of times, she considers everyone friend. She's the first one to ask a new friend to come play, and she's the last to leave making sure that everyone gets home okay.

When she engages in conversation, she makes sure that everyone knows what's on her heart and what she thinks about. She's transparent like that.

When she heard that my grandma had fallen down, she fretted and worried asking me every other hour if "big grandma" was okay.

When her classmate got stung by a bee during playtime, she prayed that night that "no more bees would sting" him. She also kept asking me "why do bees sting people?". I tried to explain how bees protect themselves and how it was an accident, but she just couldn't understand why a bee would want to hurt any creature...even a bear trying to steal a bee's honey.

When her fish passed away, she cried for days just because she felt the loss so strongly...even if he was only around for four days.

When any of our relatives visit, she cries herself to sleep the night they leave, often telling me how much she misses them and wants them to visit again soon ("I miss Grandma/Ying Ying/Yeh Yeh so much...when can I see them again?" sniff sniff)

She spends her quiet time each day coloring pictures and cutting cards that she intends for the various loved ones in her life ("I'm making this picture for Auntie Rochelle, because I love her," she says with a smile).

She has this way about her...this charisma where once she knows you, you're part of her world. She naturally befriends people young and old. She gets a lot of attention...but mostly it's because she gives it, too.

She's just got one of those hearts...bursting with love. I'm blessed that I get to be one of those she loves.

The Tantrum Redefined

Today in his toddler gym class, Chipmunk threw a fit. It was a full-blown, foot-stomping, screaming bloody murder type of tantrum. To avoid the stray eyes of disapproving parents I took my angry little monster outside and waited for the storm to blow over.

In my two years as his mom, I've learned that attempting to calm him down is like trying to stop a nuclear chain reaction. Bribe him with a toy or food? He angrily throws them away. Try a distraction? Nope. He just needs to get the tantrum out of his system.

Of course, as he's yelling/throwing himself to the ground, I can't help feel like I'm being an awful parent. I feel everyone's eyes staring at me and telepathically telling me that I'm going about it all wrong. I feel...judged, but helpless.

I've considered my options: (1) Give in and give him what he wants; (2) Preempt his tantrums by making sure there isn't anything for him to get upset over beforehand; (3) Just let him explode.

Since (1) and (2) feed back into his "explosive" behavior, (3) seems to be my best option. I just have to let him get whatever it is off his chest and then work with him on not getting upset when he is calm. It's just as he is screaming for the fifteenth minute, I'm wondering how much more patience I have left in the barrel, when as suddenly as his fit came on, it ends. This morning after Chipmunk vented, he was able to return to his class almost as if the whole episode never happened, with only tell tale snot trails running down his smiling face.

His teacher, with years more parental wisdom than I, wasn't accusatory, didn't point her finger, just came up and told me that Chipmunk reminded her of her own now 12(?) year old son. She told me that with passionate kids like Chipmunk and her son, we often don't see that their exploding emotions are actually a good thing. She told me that perseverance in a tantrum is the same perseverance when it comes to working hard and getting things done. It just takes a while before we learn to redirect those passions towards a better outlet. Hmmmm...

I think I've been mentally in this "why is he doing this to me?" state, that I'd forgotten that Chipmunk, although pint-sized, is his own person. He feels strongly, loves deeply, and does things in his own way. I have to learn about who he is before I can "redirect" his emotional overflow. As Bear is our mild-mannered, warm-hearted, cautious child, Chipmunk is our deeply passionate, headstrong, fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants kid who doesn't hesitate to let you know how he feels. And oh boy does he let you know.

So when all is said and done, he might rant and rave a while, but once he's done, that's when he'll get to the heart of the matter. I just need to be there to listen.

Happy Lunar New Year

Happy Chinese New Year!

Oh, wait, you say something is wrong with the picture above? There's only one kid...not two?

Heh heh...yeah, well we had a little incident trying to get Chipmunk dressed up for the picture.

Let's just say there were enormous fits trying to get him into his Chinese outfit. He saw the red, satiny pants, shirt and hat and just started screaming "NOOOOOOOO NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!"

After some negotiating on our part and Chipmunk continuing to scream his head off, we decided it wasn't worth it (Sorry Great Grandmas...we tried).

What can we say, our two year old has his own fashion sense and shiny, red outfits don't belong in his idea of acceptable wardrobe.

However, wearing buckets on his head...that's considered acceptable. Go figure.

Cartoonish

I was telling Matt today that Chipmunk reminds me of a cartoon character...There's just something about his silly grin and his facial expressions where his "mugshots" are rather...er...cartoonish.



2 months old



3 months old



5 months old



12 months old



22 months old

I swear it's like watching a cartoon grow up. Of course, it's also fun when he throws his head back, laughs really loud, "AHAHAHA!" and then smiles real big and says, "Funny!"

Can't argue with that...he is funny.

Where Did my Baby Go?

Where did my baby go?



When did he get replaced by a little boy?



I can't believe he'll be two years old in less than a month.

Sigh.

Rain, Rain, Go Away...

Actually, it's kind of nice having rain...

Where We've Been

Christmas Eve. Chipmunk all dressed up to party.



Christmas Day. Bear running around outside of her grandparents house, excited about the prospect of opening presents.



Day after Christmas. Celebrating Bear's 4th birthday.



Day after Bear's Birthday. Getting ready to see the Nutcracker Ballet with her grandma. (She loved it!)



Two days before New Years. Visited the Train Museum. Chipmunk went hoarse yelling "Train!" for two hours.



New Years Eve. Visited the Jelly Belly Factory. Both kids were in jelly bean bliss...



Also visited the Nut Tree and rode the Carousel and Train.



Left when it was evident that a nap was needed...



New Years Day. Bear decorated cupcakes with her Ying-Ying (grandma). "Are you going to decorate them all?"...Bear: "Yes, they're my birthday cupcakes."



Day after New Years. Took a walk outdoors. Burned off all the cupcake frosting they ate.

Two days after New Years. Rest.

Today. Home Sweet Home.

Merry Christmas!

Wishing you all the best!

The Chipmunk Vernacular

When Chipmunk hit eighteen months, something clicked in his head and he decided it was time to talk. These days he chats up a storm...in his own little Chipmunk language.

Beh beh = Bear bear

Noo nah = What he calls his sister

Mom-may = Mommy

Dah-day = Daddy (I don't know why, but he suddenly developed an accent on us)

Bao Bao = Hug (Strange - Neither Matt or myself speak mandarin - perhaps too much Kai Lan?)

Chu-ruck! Haaaah! Chu-rayyyy! = Truck! Car! Train! (Must yell loudly and wave arms when spotting one of these)

Ta-ta, Pee pee, Noh-noh, Jaaays, Hun-ee, Emee, Ha-oh, Eh-Hwa = Thomas, Percy, Gordon, James, Henry, Emily, Harold, Edward

After a while, it gets a bit one-sided. Yup, he likes to talk about trains...most specifically, Thomas the Tank Engine trains. He's obsessed. I can't tell the trains apart, but he knows them all on sight. He even takes his two little die-cast trains to sleep with him and asks me to kiss them goodnight. I've even caught him giving his trains some food and drink.

Oh well, at least he's talking. We were a little worried there for a while.

Scary World

I don't know about you, but when my adrenaline rushes I feel my heart start to flutter and I get this uncomfortable tingly sensation in my stomach.

As many times a day that I get that rushing feeling, I can't say that I'll ever get used to it. Nor do I want to lest I become numb to the fear that makes my heart skip beats.

I still can't figure out why people purposely put themselves in situations just to get that "rush," that adrenaline high, that extreme feeling of fear...what for? Some measly release of endorphins?

Seriously, if they want that feeling all the time, tell them to just have kids. It's a scary world out there and watching your kids move about their lives through it all sets off all kinds of parental alarms.

You can feel your body change the moment you know something is about to happen. From that first instant where you know your child is falling or about to hurt themselves, everything seems to happen in slow-motion. Your hands reach out as first instinct and your feet take off in a run in hopes to stop whatever is about to occur. Your mind begins processing at a rapid pace, and all your emotions of fear, dread, worry - pour out in a matter of seconds.

And though there may be some tears, it's not over until you heave that deep sigh of relief while you're cradling your child in your arms reminding them that all is well.

It's crazy what parenthood puts you through on a daily basis. Perhaps those thrill seekers out there have little care for their own mortality as they participate in extreme bungee skydiving with sharks (or whatever), but when it comes to someone else's life, those adrenaline rushes just aren't fun.

Reports about H1N1, planning for earthquake and fire safety, crossing the street, just take on a whole new meaning when there are others involved that depend on you...especially little ones whom you love so much it hurts.

So it is a scary world out there...but really what can you do, except spend as much time now holding your children in your arms until that fateful day when it's finally time to face your fears and let them go into the world on their own.

Oh gosh, how I dread that day.

Costumes 2009

Well, the costumes are finally finished...



Bear decided she wanted to be a pirate this year. She kept saying, "when I grow up, I want to be a pirate!" I kept telling her that piracy wasn't a very well looked upon profession until I realized one day she was talking about her Halloween costume, and not future occupations.



Chipmunk on the other hand we dressed up in something more suitable for his personality...Godzilla. Rawr.

If you'd like to see more of what the kids have been up to lately (Halloween costumes and all), feel free to peruse here.

Hope you're all having a wonderful end of October.

Bear's Confession

Earlier this week Bear and I had a long talk about telling the truth. As we were leaving for the library I noticed two things: (1) the fish tank was littered with food and there were two very fat fish swimming (thankfully still alive!) about in there, and (2) our little tank where our newfound friend, the cricket, was hanging on for dear life atop a piece of bread lest he fall into the pool of water sitting at the bottom.

After cleaning out the fish tank, drying the cricket tank and trying to settle some traumatized pets, I asked Bear what happened.

Bear: Um, Chipmunk did it.

Me: What? Really?

Bear: Uh huh. Chipmunk did it. He opened the thing on the tank and put the food in and then poured the water on the cricket.

I put the kids into the car and then made our way to the library. On the way I got to thinking. How could Chipmunk open the fish food (It's a screw top)? Where did the water in the cricket tank come from? So I asked Bear again.

Me: So what did your brother do again?

Bear: He went to the bathroom, turned on the sink...yeah, then walked slowly to the cricket and opened the top and poured the water in.

Of course, at this point I knew something was fishy (pardon the pun).

Me: So how did the food get in the fish tank?

Bear: He opened the top of the tank and poured the food in.

Me: Really?

Bear: Uh huh. He really did.

Me: Did you know that your brother doesn't know how to open the fish food?

Bear: He doesn't?

Me: No. He can't turn on the water in the bathroom either. He can't reach it.

Bear: He can't?

Me: No.

Bear sat silently for a while probably trying to figure out her next move. So I decided to give her a way out.

Me: Bear, you know if you poured the food in the fish tank and the water in the cricket tank, I'm not going to be mad at you. I however, will be very disappointed if you lied to me.

Bear: Lied?

Me: Yup. Lying is when you don't tell the truth about what really happened.

Bear: Oh.

Me: It's okay to make mistakes, but saying that someone else made the mistake is a lie.

After a bit of silence, Bear speaks up again.

Bear: Mommy?

Me: Yes?

Bear: I put too much food for the fish, and I poured the water on the cricket.

Me: Did you?

Bear: Yes, I don't want to lie.

Me: Thank you for telling me the truth.

Of course, I won't bore you with the rest of the conversation which I'm sure I repeated the "no lying" point so much Bear is sick of hearing it. I, however, will happily report that so far there have been no fish or cricket casualties much to the delight of Bear and her guilty conscience.

RIP Fishy

Poor Bear...she's been wandering around our home saying, "I'm still sad that Fishy is gone."

Who is Fishy? Fishy is the little silver fish that Bear won from the County Fair throwing a fortuitous ping pong ball into a bowl of colored water. You should have seen Bear's face when the little plastic tank was handed over to her...she was so proud.



These days, however, I have to explain to her why Fishy had to "go away."

I figured the fish wouldn't last long, but four days?

Well, considering the circumstances surrounding Fishy's death (found him keeled over surrounded by an excessive amount of fish flakes), let's just say Bear learned her first lesson in pet care: Being generous to your pet doesn't necessarily mean that it's a good thing.

Poor Bear. Hopefully she'll have better luck with pets later on.

A Fair Moment

There was a series in August that ran on The Kitchn about street fair food. As I read recipe after recipe on foods like funnel cake and frozen lemonade, it reminded me that our county fair was soon approaching.

Today we finally got to go.

Of course, some people go for the food.



As often as I tell myself that I'd like to try something new when we go to the fair, I never do. That deep-fried cheesecake on a stick will have to wait for another time. Although you can tell what the new "it" fair food is by the number of vendors selling it. These signs were everywhere:



Our kids were thrilled by anything furry.



A crew of baby goats came running when Bear came to see them. They were clamoring for her loving pats.



Anytime Chipmunk saw anything remotely animal, he'd scream and point.



There was a neat robotic dinosaur exhibit that we visited.



Chipmunk wasn't much into the display. Instead he spent his time brushing for fossils.



Other than that, Bear rode her first ferris wheel and loved it so much she wanted to go again. Chipmunk had to stick with his acrophobic mom and enjoyed amusements that were much lower to the ground like the train (or as Chipmunk likes to say "Choo Choo!").

Anyway, if you'd like to see more of how we spent our time at the fair, you can see them here.

Until the next fair moment.

First Day of Preschool

Today was Bear's first day of preschool (sniff!).



No tears for this little social butterfly. She sauntered into her classroom and only told me one thing, "Don't forget to pick me up, okay?"

When we did pick her up, she was beaming with smiles and bursting with all kinds of stories from her day.

She mentioned painting, a story about a frog, learning a new song and playing with her new friends...which she mentioned were all boys...Really?

I guess preschool is a hit for Bear.

Funny Faces

How our kids entertain themselves on long car rides...



Silly kids.

Increasing Decibels

I've been telling myself for months now that once Chipmunk starts to "get it," things will be much better on the parenting front. I don't know why, but I imagined with Chipmunk understanding more of what's going on, parenting two kids would go smoother.

Nope. Definitely not the case.

Granted his communication has been better, but what I didn't account for was that Chipmunk and Bear would understand each other better as well. Now in most circumstances that's a good thing, but when they start playing together, they have this kind of rapport where they feed off of one another and...boom...chaos ensues.

My mom used to tell me that when all three of us (me, my sis, my bro) were together in the same room, the noise level in our home increased enormously. Something about having all of us there...we would have livelier conversations, laugh more, bicker more...the decibels would increase dramatically.

I see what she means.

I can't complain. Bear and Chipmunk play really well together, but they're crazy sometimes. They egg each other on to do things that neither of them would do on their own. If I step out of the room for a minute or two, I start to feel a sense of dread at what I might find upon returning.

They chase each other screaming at the top of their lungs. They dismantle the couch and then repeatedly jump off of it into the pile of cushions. They manage to dislodge every toy from every possible place onto the floor. They wrestle each other (Really, I've witnessed Chipmunk body slam Bear to the floor). They argue. They fight. They yell at each other and throw things around. Chaos.

Oh, and they somehow think that by acting together they can get away with things...like coloring the tiles on our kitchen floor with crayons and colored pencils, or attempting to climb up onto the dining room table to sneak snacks. Really. It's like they plan their attacks together while I'm not looking.

So it's nice that they get along so well, but goodness, I may have to invest in a pair of earplugs.

Tomatoes?

Well, now that August is here, we've finally got red cherry tomatoes adorning our window.



Nice, huh? Well, they're nice when they're shot close up and then the picture is cropped.

In reality, these suckers are puny...miniscule...diminutive...itty bitty...



I could pick a half a dozen of these and they're still not even comparable to the size of a normal cherry tomato.



Oh well...at least they're cute.

A Bit of Magic

Bear asks me a lot of "whys" these days. Why is the man going over there? Why do I have to sleep? Why are we not going to the zoo today? Why I have to wear pants? It's excessive at times, but what can I say? She's curious.

So I try my best to answer her questions as best as I can. Sometimes I find myself at a loss for words trying to explain some of the more difficult things.

One day after asking another why (Why the plants grow up and up and up? Why the clouds are hiding the sun? Why does the radio make music?), she came up with her own answer.

"I know! It's magic, right?"

I thought about it a while and didn't really correct her. If you look at it from a three and half year old perspective, most things are "magic." It's only as we get older and learn about things like cell growth, atmospheric change and radio waves that we stop seeing the "magic" in plant growth, a hiding sun, radio music or in a great many things for that matter.

Bear sees magic and miracles in all those things that seem so mundane and ordinary. Water spraying out of a fountain has no pipes or mechanisms connected to it, tomatoes turning red as they ripen have nothing to do with pigmentation and chemical change, and fun house mirrors are just fun and not a trick of bending light. To her, it's a magical world.

And so it shall be...

Yet, we get older, we learn more and we lose that appreciation and wonder of things that we can't explain. We see more heartache, we suffer through more challenges, and our days become settled in routines. The "whys" that we ask, tend to air more on the side of "why me?"

Perhaps seeing a little more "magic" in our days might be good for us...

Playing Games

So the other day we went to the market with my sister and I witnessed this...

Bear: I know! I got a good idea! Let's play a game!

Auntie: What? (Meanwhile Bear comes up behind her and hits her on the rear end)

Bear: Let's play butt tag! (Giggling and runs away)

Auntie: Bear, I don't know if I want to play this game.

Bear: Come on, Auntie! Touch my butt! Try to touch my butt!

Auntie: Who taught you this game?

Bear: I don't know. Come get me! Touch my butt!

Seriously, who taught her this game?