Mommy, tell me another story...

Mommy, tell me another story. Will you tell me another story about when I was little?

What kind of a story do you want to hear?

Tell me a funny story, Mommy.

Okay. Did I ever tell you about the time you were obsessed with monsters? You loved talking about monsters so much that at a restaurant you called our server a monster.

Tell me another story, Mommy.

Did I ever tell you about the time when we went to see the doctor and while we were waiting in the waiting room, you and your sister baked an imaginary cake and then fought over who got to cut the cake with the invisible knife?

Tell me a story about my sister, Mommy.

Did I ever you tell about how your sister got scared because her hands and feet got all pruney in the bathtub and she thought it wouldn't go away?

That is funny. How about a story about me and my sister, Mommy?

Well, there's the time you were two and your sister was four, and I would sit outside your door and listen to you tell each other goodnight. Even at the age of two you would get your sister giggling over something.

I really like these stories, Mommy. They make me happy listening to them.

Well, I love telling them to you. Also, thank you for giving me so many stories to tell.

My daughter's palate

Oysters + Mignonette = Bear's most recent taste adventure.

Bear's response? She loved it. She also loves mussels, clams, scallops, shrimp, caviar, sea urchin, crab, lobster, various kinds of mushrooms, umeboshi, sashimi, kimchi, brie, other forms of interesting cheeses, artichokes, asparagus, Greek dolmas, sauerkraut, various pickles, all olives including the more bitter ones...

This is not a normal 8-year-old palate, right?

Bathroom Reading

Chipmunk likes to read. As long as it has words, he will read it: books, instruction manuals, lego catalogues, mailing brochures, etc. He also likes to read in the bathroom. We've had some issues because of it.

The other day I caught him carrying a box of cereal out of the bathroom.

Me: Why are you carrying a box of cereal out of the bathroom!

Chipmunk: I wasn't done reading it and I had to go to the bathroom.

Me: But it's cereal!

Chipmunk: So?

Me: You're bringing food into the bathroom? The bathroom!

Chipmunk: Yeah. I wanted to finish reading the box…

Me: (shaking head and making a mental note to never eat from that box of cereal)

Holiday wishes

Every Monday morning I help out with library time for my daughter's class…more specifically I monitor the computer lab time and help 25 second graders with their touch-typing skills.

I try to arrive a bit earlier, before the allotted time, in order to set things up, if necessary. Today, the third grade class was still enjoying their time with the librarian. She posed a question to them: "What is your holiday wish?" The 9 year olds eagerly raised their hands and they answered one by one while I stood back and listened. There were toys mentioned, and a couple of kids passed on answering, but some answers floored me.

"An iPad mini!"

"A Microsoft Surface!"

"I want another phone!"

At this point the librarian stopped and asked, "Another phone?"

The little girl responded, "Yup, I only have two phones."

"Two phones?!? Why do you need a third phone?"

"I just want one," said the nine year old.

"Why? Do you want an iPhone 5 or something?"

"No, I already have an iPhone 5."

"Gosh, I don't even have an iPhone 4...Whatever happened for wishing for world peace?" the librarian wondered aloud.

"Why would we wish for that when we already have world peace," a boy from the other side of the class said confidently.

I think all of us parents in the room were trying to listen with understanding, but it was so hard to hear. It was almost painful realizing how our kids are growing up with such different values and desires…many of them requiring lightning pin chargers.

So I asked Chipmunk this afternoon about his Christmas wish.

"I want a happy Christmas."

And then I posed a what-if:

"What if you didn't get any Christmas presents this year?" I asked

"It's fine as long as it's a happy Christmas."

"Is that right? (sniff…sniff)I love you, baby boy. You've restored my faith in the future of humanity."

"I love you, too, momma."

Innocence

I love the fact that my kids are kids. They are naive about many things, and I hope it will remain that way as long as we can help it. There's so much to fear and so many things to protect our kids from nowadays that many times our kids lose their innocence much faster than they should.

This week was Red Ribbon Week at school. So all the teachers were doing their best to encourage the kids to be "drug-free" and such. With all the craziness of Halloween in the same week, I was wondering if Bear and Chipmunk actually retained anything. So at dinner tonight I asked Bear.

Me: So it was Red Ribbon Week this week, right?

Bear: Yes.

Me: What did you learn about during Red Ribbon Week?

Bear: Uh, my teacher just talked to us about how we're not supposed to put bad things like grubs in our body.

Me: Grubs?

Bear: Yeah, grubs. You know, like how smoking is a grub and not good for our body.

Me: (trying hard not to laugh) It's "drugs," not "grubs."

Bear: Oh. Then what's a grub?

Innocence. Gotta love it.

Halloween Blur

Usually, I have costumes done about a week before Halloween. This year I started about four days before Halloween.

I blame the strep throat. That put me out for about a week.

Somehow, I managed. I may have not gotten as much sleep as I would have liked, but Pikachu, Ash and Snow White managed to go trick-or-treating together.



Some other highlights from the past 7 days:

We went to a Halloween event at our church…they had a life size Candyland game as well as other fun games...



The kids had their walk-a-thon for school. They each walked about 40 laps.



We visited a pumpkin farm where they had a play area full of corn kernels.



Chipmunk went on a field trip with his class to a different pumpkin farm. I must say, herding around 3 classes of kindergarteners is tough.



The kids had a parade at school…



Lots of October fun...

Chlorophyll and Echinoderms

One day when I was in high school, I was walking with a friend to class when I asked if he was ready for the test we were about to take. "Test? What test?!" he said and then frantically spent the two minutes before the test scanning the headings in the chapter. After the test was over, my friend put his head down on the desk and then fell asleep. Our teacher walked by and hit the desk to wake him, all the while shaking his head and talking about students who don't "feel the need" to participate and how it would reflect in their grades.

The next day in class our teacher handed back our tests from highest to lowest scores making sure to point out which students managed to pull a 100%. He called the name of my friend first and did a double-take when he realized that the perfect paper belonged to the kid who he had already decided was "slacker" material.

Chipmunk reminds me a lot of this friend in the fact that he understands a lot more than he lets on. I realized this when he brought up a conversation with me over lunch.

Chipmunk: Mommy, did you know that plants suck in water through their roots and mix with sunlight to make chlorophyll?
Me: You're learning about chlorophyll, are you?
Chipmunk: Yeah. Plants make chlorophyll in their leaves.
Me: Yup. That's right.

Also, lately he's been playing with some old Koosh balls (remember those?) and dragging them around the house calling them his pet "sea urchins."

Me: Pet sea urchins?
Chipmunk: Yes, they're my pet sea urchins.
Me: So, no dogs, cats, or hamsters for you?
Chipmunk: Nope. I like sea urchins.
Me: What is it that you like so much about them?
Chipmunk: They have tube feet and lots of spines.

Sometimes he has literary conversations with his sister. This was their conversation the other day:

Chipmunk: Do you know what a "text-to-text connection" is?
Bear: Yeah. It has to do with when you're reading one book and you see how it says similar things in another book.
Chipmunk: Oh! I was wondering what that was. Like if you read something in a fiction book and you see it also in a non-fiction book?
Bear: Uh, I guess so.

Or our conversations in the car on the way back from a late night at church…

Chipmunk: I wish I had a bed in the car.
Matt: You do. It's called your car seat.
Chipmunk: No, like a real bed that you can activate when you're tired.
Me: (whispering to Matt) Did your son just say "activate?" Where did he pick up that word?
Matt: (shrugs shoulders)

There is just so much going on in his brain. I can't keep up.

[fill in the blank] Mom

"Are you an 'attachment parenting' mom or a 'cry-it-out method' mom?"

It seems that there is always some label associated with being a mom.

"Are you a 'stay-at-home' mom or are you a 'working' mom?"

"Look at you, 'soccer' mom!"

Even a radio station where I used to live had a segment where they would speak to a "mad-mom-in-a-minivan."

I hated all the labels. It made me feel so stuck as a mom, that everyone knew what type of person I was because I carried my baby all the time or because I made my baby cry themselves to sleep. As a SAHM (stay-at-home mom, for those of you who don't know), I felt confined to fit a certain role, some sort of "ideal" mom role that I often stressed myself out over when I found I just couldn't manage it all. Some moms seem to have it all together, but me I was crying over the fact that I could barely brush my teeth in the morning.

So I changed my perspective and decided that I needed to forget the labels and just become a "survival" mom. This meant that my parenting books would have to be taken with a grain of salt, advice from others should be considered a suggestion not something I had to follow lest be looked down upon, and overall I just needed to do and decide what was a priority and let the rest go.

I also decided that the labels needed to go, but I tell you I'm still learning how to do that.

A couple weeks ago at a soccer game I was watching another mom yelling at her five-year-old on the field.

"You can do better than that!"

"Just kick it in the goal! Kick it in the goal!"

"Where are you going? The ball is over here!"

I turned to my friend next to me and whispered, "If I ever become THAT mom who yells at my kids' games, please kick me in the shins."

Later as I thought about it, I realized I shouldn't have said that. I had just labelled another mom using the most ambiguous yet negatively-connoted "THAT" mom. Even if I wasn't necessarily speaking about the mom that I saw at the field, but rather moms in general who I thought were too hard on their kids at the soccer field, I still shouldn't have said that.

Because who gives me the right to judge moms without knowing anything about them or their kids? Nobody. Instead I proved to myself that I was THAT mom...you know, the judgmental one who wishes she could take the time machine back and do a retake? Instead I'll just have to settle for being THIS mom...the one who takes her thoughtless words and hopefully learns not to make that mistake again.

Yup. HUMBLED Mom. That I am.

Tiger Sister

There was so much debate and chatter about Tiger Moms for a while there. Even in everyday conversations with friends the occasional, "I sound like such a Tiger Mom," would come up now and then. It was to the point where it became a verb:

"Wow, he's reading already? Did you 'Tiger Mom' him?"

Full disclosure time: Yes, Chipmunk is reading. Yes, he is reading beyond his grade level. No, I did not "Tiger mom" him. In fact, it was his sister who taught him how to read. It was his sister who pushed him to read more. There were occasions when I caught his sister using flashcards on him (when he was 3 years old and she was 5) in order to teach him how to read sight words.

Even now, during homework time I don't have to keep Chipmunk on track. Bear does it all. Some things I've heard:

"Did you finish your homework? Would you like me to check it for you?"

"You're not writing straight enough. Erase it and do it again."

"Wow, you're really getting better. Good job!"

She's either going to grow up to be a teacher or a Tiger mom. For my future grandkids' sake I hope it's the former.

Thank God for the Trees

Before our prayers one night I asked the kids what they were thankful for. Bear was thankful for family, friends and for her hard-working dad. Chipmunk on the other hand...

Me: What are you thankful for?

Chipmunk: I'm thankful for deciduous trees that go dormant.

Matt & Me: (blink, blink)

Bear: What did he just say?

Sometimes, you just never know what is going to come out of that kid's mouth. As a side note, he did in fact learn about how apple trees are deciduous in kindergarten that morning, so I'm thankful that he has a great teacher.

School Starts and the Germs Follow

It's always such a rush when school starts. The excitement of getting back in the classroom, new teachers, new lessons, handfuls of fundraisers, new routines and schedules...

Then the germs...

This year is no different. As the first few weeks have gone by, students are missing one by one as they're quarantined at home with illnesses that other students in class have passed along. In our area there is this "sore throat and cough" thing that is slowly making its way from classroom to classroom...



Chipmunk had something. I don't know what it was, but he managed to throw up in class (Yup, I got that phone call...). He was super tired and not eating much, but otherwise fine. It passed after a day.



Bear, on the other hand, caught that "sore throat and cough" thing and ended up with a fever for three days. By the third day she was ready to head back to school, but we had to make sure to comply with the rules to not go to school unless she's been fever-free for at least 24 hours.

I think I bored her enough during those days that she was excited to head back to school.

The moral of the story? Wash your hands. Always wash your hands. You never know what you might pick up.

Crooked Line of Logic

Chipmunk has some interesting thought progressions. It's evident in many of our conversations with him. Take our conversation this past week as I was cooking dinner.

Chipmunk: (holding up his index finger) I want to touch the fire.

Me: No, you don't.

Chipmunk: Why not?

Matt: (joining in the conversation) You'll burn your finger.

Chipmunk: Will it hurt?

Matt: It will hurt a lot and you won't be able to use your finger for anything like picking your nose, playing with your legos, holding things...

Chipmunk: What about if I use my pinky finger to touch it?

Me: No!

Matt: You need your pinky finger.

Chipmunk: (after a few seconds of thought) Then what finger don't I need?

It's a logical thought process, right? It's just a bit crooked. That's our Chipmunk for you.

Bully Bully...

I was a petite kid. I was always one of the smallest kids in my class. It wasn't until high school that I starting growing to normal heights.

My short stature caused me much grief when I was in elementary school. I don't know what it was, but somehow being short and Asian meant it was okay to pick on me.

"Baby Carina! You're so cute!" said the girl from my class as she pinched my cheeks to numbness, all the while talking in a voice that you'd use only on babies and dogs.

Of course, I was also plagued with the shyness disease, so my only response was to blink a few times and suffer through the pain.

Definitely not one of my fonder memories.

Or the time in second grade when a girl in the class down the hall decided that she just didn't like me and grabbed me by the chin to threaten me. "What are you looking at? Don't sit next to me!"

I don't remember doing anything to provoke her...I just sat next to her because the teacher told me to do so. Needless to say, I was scared of that girl for the rest of the time she was at our school...

...or the sixth grade girl who would constantly tell me to change lockers with her because she was so much taller than the eighth grade me who happened to have a top locker above her...and her friend who threatened to beat me up after school because I got fed up with the ridicule and used a few choice words in turn...

So it doesn't surprise me that Bear isn't even close to being one of the tallest in her class, but it does surprise me that no matter how many decades have passed, the same issue always rears its ugly head.

A couple weeks ago I watched as one of Bear's soccer teammates came up to her and pinched her cheeks and patted her head and told her how cute she was. I watched warily.

Tonight, after practice, two of the girls decided to play "keep away" with Bear in the middle. Even when Matt and I called for Bear to come, the girls wouldn't give the ball back and kept passing the ball between them with Bear running in between.

She's a good kid. She smiled through the whole thing...

...but I wasn't smiling, that's for sure.

In my head I was debating whether my second grade memories were clouding my judgment of the situation making it bigger than it really was or whether I should just let the incident go as a first time thing and bring up issue if it happens again. Luckily the coach stepped in and deflected the situation (not resolving, mind you) and helped Bear go on her way.

In the car I had to ask Bear what she thought of the situation...she remained quiet for a while before responding, "I don't know." As her parent, I know that if it didn't bother her she would have then asked, "what do you mean?" Instead, her quiet, "I don't know," told me that she really was bothered but didn't want to say anything about it because she didn't want to upset anybody.

So we chatted and we talked about ways that she could get out of situations like that...Chipmunk piped in his two cents as well..."You should tell them to stop! If they do mean things, you have to tell them to stop and walk away!" He was very cutely emphatic about it.

The problem with sending our kids out into the world is that they have to actually be in the world and deal with the issues the world throws at them. I keep telling myself that these "blips" and how we deal with them will make them into better adults, but sigh...it hurts to know that their innocence is being chipped away little by little...

So next practice, I'll be watching like a hawk, and before then I'll be praying and praying some more, and in the meantime, I'll be sure to continue the conversation with my children in hopes that they'll have the courage to act accordingly if the situation should arise again.

It may only seem like a little thing to most people ("kids will be kids, right?"), but seeing how I vividly remember my memories after almost thirty years...I'm not taking any chances with my own kids.

Part of the Neighborhood

Some days my kids strap on their helmets and bike/scooter down the street. I follow them slowly by foot and eventually we make our way about a block down to a street with a cul-de-sac. When we get there, there are already 7-8 kids rolling about on their inline skates, bicycles and scooters. My daughter greets them all, knowing most of them from school, and then my kids instantly add their vehicles to the kid traffic. I hesitantly join the other moms on the sidewalk and try to add to the chatter, although feeling a bit shy.

I often think, "So this is what it's like to be part of a neighborhood..."

Our previous neighborhood, was a bit different. I met our neighbors, but never really chatted with them or let the kids play with their kids. I mean, when your neighbor gets arrested in the middle of the night on your doorstep the conversation starters are a bit different..."Were you the ones who called the cops on me?" "Nope, it wasn't us...Have a nice day." Or when the kids from your complex and the complex next door are egging each other on to "jump off the roof" on a lazy summer day, you tend to make a mental note to not let your kids ever meet those kids.

Not that it was an unsafe neighborhood...just different. Neighbors never dropped by to say "hello" unless they were also asking if we knew whose car was blocking the driveway. If I happened to be outside and a neighbor walked by, greetings were rare. Now people I've never met wave at us and often stop to chat about the weather or random happenings in the neighborhood. They've even stopped me in my car while I'm leaving the driveway, just to say hello.

And you know, I still can't get used to it...the friendliness, the hospitality, the acceptance and immediate trust that I've encountered here. I can't say I feel all that comfortable with it.

There's this unsettling distrust that has permeated my ability to freely socialize that I think may just be common in most (I'll just outright say it) LA people (Los Angeles...not Louisiana). I've been trying to break through that, but I think it will take me a while...I have so much distrust that I even arm the car alarm when it's parked in the connected garage at night. I have this sense of anxiety rather than pleasantry when strangers talk to me at grocery stores. When people I've met for the first time ask for my phone number or email, I recoil inside and wonder for what nefarious reason they want this information.

In the meantime, the kids love being part of a friendly neighborhood...They wave at the neighbors going to the community pool across the street and wave at neighbors walking their canine companions about. They play with anyone at the local park and excitedly socialize at the community events (Yes, there are community events...go figure!). We drive down our hill and they recognize cars that belong to their friends' parents. It's one of those places that you can't go anywhere without running into someone that you know or are familiar with. And everyday at school drop-off and pick-up you see...well...you see everyone.

It's not a bad thing. I'm thankful for the place that we are living in now, and I'm thankful that my kids are happy. Community just doesn't come so easily to me as it might to other people...so I'm learning, and perhaps sometime in the future, wherever we are, I'll be able to feel more like I'm part of the neighborhood, too.

The Next Stage...

So despite what we all think when we're toting around an infant, with lack of sleep and constant diaper changing muddling our thought processes, things really do change. Our little ones grow up and suddenly you find your home diaper-free and your car, stroller-free. Really. It does happen.

Your purse does not double as a diaper bag.

Your kids buckle themselves into the car.

You don't have to pack a change of clothes...or three.

You can sleep in a bit while the kids feed themselves breakfast.

The songs stuck in your head aren't from Disney Jr. or Nick Jr.

Your day's schedule is not structured around naptimes.

Your voice goes down an octave back to what it once was.

You can use sarcasm, and your kids get it.

Household chores can be completed while you sit, sipping coffee (as long as you've delegated properly).

I'll be honest. I never thought I'd get to this point. Parents with older kids kept telling me how things would change eventually. So many times I heard how the stress of parenting an infant/toddler would soon pass and although there would be different struggles ahead, in some ways parenting would get easier. Of course, amidst juggling a colicky baby and a short-napping toddler, this concept was just unfathomable. I would watch moms of older kids and wonder how they could be so calm amidst the chaos of parenthood...

But now, I kind of see why that is...My days are not filled with exploding poopy diapers, translating toddler speak, cleaning up after kids who like to dump everything out again, learning how to selectively listen to crying, leaving the house with fifty billion "necessary" items, figuring out how to pack groceries in the car amidst the strollers and paraphernalia...etc...

I've hit the next stage...and in some ways I like it here.

Slowly I've changed parental gears, and all those issues I faced only a couple of years ago seem almost distant and blurry...so much so, that the anguish I felt at the time is hazier, and the struggles seem mild, when at the time I felt they were catastrophic.

Of course, perhaps that's just how it is in life...the drama is greater in the present than it is in the past. As long as we look backward with a teachable spirit, willing to grow, moving onto the next stage isn't such a bad thing...

Then again, seeing that the teenage years are ahead somewhere...perhaps I shouldn't speak too soon.

First day of school 2013

The birds are singing, the sun is shining...and the kids are both off to school!

It was getting a bit iffy there at the end of summer vacay...both kids were starting to really rub each other the wrong way, easily picking fights, pushing each other buttons...needless to say, I was ready for them to go to school.

The biggest change this year is having only ONE DROP OFF! Can you tell I'm excited about that?

Yup, Chipmunk is finally joining his big sis in elementary school.



I was taking this picture of him and his cheesy grin and I heard laughing behind me. I turned to see the principal and another parent walking past us watching Chipmunk "pose" for the camera.



Bear was excited to see her friends again. She was excited to learn that a good chunk of her girlfriends were all in the same second grade class with her...a good thing for her...I don't know how her teacher is going to feel about all the chatty girls.

We shall see what happens...

Here's to a good school year!

In the Sun

I have spent the past hour on Amazon searching for the following: umbrellas, canopies, tents, umbrella chairs, pop up canopy, etc. Why? I'll give you a hint...





Today was opening day for soccer in our area...and boy, was it hot.

After sitting in the sun for two games, I'm amazed I haven't shriveled up like bacon.

This is apparently our every Saturday from here until mid-November.

Okay...back to searching...

Grown

Occasionally I lament the fact that my children are no longer little. Their pants suddenly meet halfway up their calves and their faces seemed to have changed shape overnight. Shoes are busting at the seams and short t-shirts have to be pulled back down lest we see their tummies poking out. They're growing up...quickly...maybe too quickly...

Chipmunk has a loose tooth. It's his first, and he's been telling everyone and their mothers about it. "Look! I have a loose tooth! It's my first one!"



I can't believe my baby boy has a loose tooth. I've been denying the loose tooth...mostly because it seems like it crept up on me out of nowhere. Granted, he got his first teeth rather early and quickly, so having his first loose tooth before starting kindergarten doesn't surprise me, but it's almost painful admitting that my babies are no longer babies.

What will your kids be doing in ten years?

This question was on one of our discussion questions at MOPs this past year.

Answering the question made a few moms tear up just thinking about their kids in a decade from now. I thought something was wrong with me because I wasn't sad or nostalgic or feeling emotional. After Chipmunk's preschool graduation, I noticed a few more moms tearing up at the occasion. I began to wonder if I was emotionally dead inside as my tear ducts were bone dry and I didn't feel sad in the least.

So it begs the question, why is it that a loose tooth is tugging at my previously hardened heartstrings? What is it about my son's now absent dentition that makes me feel so...sad?

Too Tired to Text

It's been a really busy week. Between madly cleaning the house in preparation for visitors and getting ready for the start of school there haven't been too many quiet moments here. Also, knowing that I need to adjust my kids' sleep schedules back to an earlier time again, I'm doing my best to tire them out so they'll welcome sleep earlier. An unfortunate side effect is that it makes me tired, too.

I even fell asleep mid-text one afternoon. Yes, I was typing a text and fell asleep in the middle of it.

The saddest part? The text only consisted of one word..."No."

I woke to find I had typed only the letter "N." I never made it to "O" or to "Send."

Rather depressing, isn't it?

Of course, you can imagine how I tried to explain to Matt later why I never answered his text...

Look, I typed in an N...

Note to self: Must caffeinate before texting.

One on One

I read this article and immediately sent it to Matt to read (By the way, the Simple Mom website is one of my favorite blogs to read). I know that I tend to "herd" my kids around, and I've only got two. So we tried some one-on-one time. Matt took Bear to a baseball game and I took Chipmunk out for pottery painting and yogurt eating.

Bear was a bit hesitant when she heard "baseball game" as the destination for her daddy-daughter night. It turns out she had a great time. She came home chattering about how good the garlic fries were (which happens to be the only reason I go to ballgames) and how far the balls got hit.



Chipmunk, on the other hand, couldn't contain his excitement and was bouncing nonstop from the moment we decided to go paint pottery. He talked endlessly on the way out to our destination. He chattered on an on as we painted pottery. He chattered more as we walked around from store to store (we were at a mall). His constant questioning only stopped so he could shove frozen yogurt into his mouth. I was amazed at how much he had to say...



Later, I asked Chipmunk, "Would you like to do this again sometime? Except perhaps next time you can have a date with Daddy and I'll take your sister out?"

He smiled excitedly and said, "You mean have a boys night?!"

Before I knew it he was up out of his seat, jumping up and down, yelling, "YAAAAAAAAAAAAY!"

Perhaps there is something to this one-on-one thing...