Still an hour shy of a day old, what are you dreaming about that would make you squint up your face and cry? Was it the scary process of being born? Of getting squeezed out from the warm, dark, floating space of mommy's womb to this bright and noisy place where sometimes your limbs are exposed to the open air?
You came yesterday morning. Around 2:55am, Mommy awoke to a painful contraction. Whereas previous contractions are comforting assurances of my body getting ready for your birth, nothing more then a tightening that is slightly uncomfortable, this contraction was a jabbing pain. I lay there in the dark and waited. Sure enough a second one came, and then a third, all 8 minutes apart. After an hour of this, I went downstairs to check on my computer and decided that this might be the real deal. One week ahead of our scheduled induction, and you decided to take things into your own hand. You were coming.
I woke your daddy, and after he was ready, at around 5, we roused your sisters. Both went from being groggy from sleep to wide awake when we told them that you are likely to make your final appearance. Both got dressed and loaded into the car with a rare display of efficiency. Your Nanny and Granddad then picked them up around 5:30 at the hospital. By then, I was 4.5-5 cm dilated (was 2-3 a week ago) and my blood pressure went up. By then, the chances of us leaving with you still in my belly has shrunk to near nothing.
The doctor came around 7:30 to check on us. I've progressed another couple of centimeters. Before then, I've put off deciding whether I want pain medications or not. The problem was, I was completely comfortable during the couple of minutes between contractions. I could even fall asleep. But when the contractions came, there was no questioning that they were building in intensity and demanding more and more of my energy and efforts to ride through it. It scares me to be washed away in the pain and loose control of it all. When the doctor came back again a little after 8 to break my water, I was fighting with a contraction and noting that they are about to transition into their final phase. I told her I am going with the epidural this time, and what a difference it made. The epidural went in around 9. After that, instead of the pain, the contractions became a very manageable pressure in my lower abdominal. I not only could joke with the nurses through it, I actually had to tune into it to make sure I don't miss any time-to-push signals. An hour later, I furrowed my brows and discerned that perhaps the pressure I was feeling had changed. The nurses called back the doctor who almost went back to her office to see a couple of patients, and I started pushing. With your sisters, the pain were crushing waves that I struggle to stay afloat and breath. The pushing process was more or less a haze in which actions and happenings blend together until at last a baby was handed to me. With you, however, I was calm and clear headed and present. Fully aware of the room, the people in it, and my surrounding. The pressure when I needed to push was still hard to bear, but between pushes, man, I was even able to chat with the doctor and ask after her son. Four pushes through the contractions, and at 10:08, you were pulled out and handed to me. Gurgling and confused, you cried right away. A little bundle of life. Three times I've been handed a baby right out from my body, and each time, it is equally profound, incredulous, miraculous, and wonderful. Red faced, a full head of hair, little cries and waving limbs. You are mine and ours, living, breathing, and starting a life of your own. What awaits you, only time would tell, but you will have us by your side, always.
Welcome to the world, my son.
Friday, May 25, 2012
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Two with an attitude
Lauren found a new game. She climbs onto the toy chest in their room, which is probably a foot and a half high, then while holding onto my hand (that's her compromise), jumps down. After a thrilling few jumps, she demonstrated her invented game to her father. Her father's response "this scares me." With a smile, Lauren calmly gave her retort, "than go away."
Later that night, the girls' dad told me Lauren said "oh shoot!"while watching him play Diablo earlier. Yes, my ballet loving, princess dressing, dolly playing 5- and 2- year old daughters are also well versed in Star Wars - game and movie, and the newest Diablo. They each have an in-game character; scary looking witches and sorcerers with sweet names like Violet and Lilly. They know about skeleton kings and quests and raids. If they hear any dramatic conversation or musics coming from the office, they, especially the older one, would rush over to claim their stools beside their father to watch him play. Apparently, their father's character was attacked by a bunch of bad guys today. And, according to Lauren "they look tough, so I said 'oh shoot!'"
Later that night, the girls' dad told me Lauren said "oh shoot!"while watching him play Diablo earlier. Yes, my ballet loving, princess dressing, dolly playing 5- and 2- year old daughters are also well versed in Star Wars - game and movie, and the newest Diablo. They each have an in-game character; scary looking witches and sorcerers with sweet names like Violet and Lilly. They know about skeleton kings and quests and raids. If they hear any dramatic conversation or musics coming from the office, they, especially the older one, would rush over to claim their stools beside their father to watch him play. Apparently, their father's character was attacked by a bunch of bad guys today. And, according to Lauren "they look tough, so I said 'oh shoot!'"
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Dear little one
Dear little one,
Am I really too ambitious, thinking that I can teach and work on a dissertation, and handle a new born come June all at he same time? Maybe. But if I have to give any of the above up, it will not be you.
Today, I ran into the doctoral program adviser in the hall way. She asked me about my progress. Yes, yes, I am shaping up my topic. Yes, yes, I'm doing preliminary lit review. Yes, yes, I am forming a dissertation committee. "And how are other things going?" she asked, not that subtly indicating towards my growing belly, at you.
"It's going well," I said.
"Uh-huh. Is it going to cause problems?" ("It"? You know, "baby" isn't a bad word to use, even if we are standing in the hall way of an academic institution.)
"I've budgeted a couple months time for when the baby comes."
"Good. As long as you factored it into your timeline. What is this, your third?"
"Yes, my third."
"Jesus!" She reacted in a you-are-so-out-of-your-mind, this-is-too-outrageous-to-comprehend sort of way. And I wondered, is three the new twenty in academia?
I walked away after the brief exchange bitterly amused by it. School and motherhood is an uneasy mix. Balancing the two is challenging enough, it turns out that finding someone established within an academic organization who understands what parenting is about and how why a not-crazy-person might choose to become a parent is even more difficult. When you face a roomful of faculties who chose not to have children, how do you explain that you really only have two full work days a week because motherhood takes up the rest of the day AND night, physically AND mentally? How do you convey that sitting on a park bench watching children play for a couple of hours is a good use of your time? How do you help them understand a sick child or a school vacation day means no work time for you? How do you help them see that even though these are the cases, without your children, you will not be complete any more?
But never mind them. I look at your sisters, listen to their laughter, bask in the overflowing glow of love they shower each other in, and feel a joy and contentment that I cannot put into words. I feel your movements in me and cannot wait to meet you, learn more about you, and see you jump into play with your sisters. Yes, you are my third. You are not a roadblock. You are not an extra. You are not the "break" that needs to happen. You are my child, and you will be cherished just like my first and my second are. You will be (are already) loved with all of my heart.
Am I really too ambitious, thinking that I can teach and work on a dissertation, and handle a new born come June all at he same time? Maybe. But if I have to give any of the above up, it will not be you.
Today, I ran into the doctoral program adviser in the hall way. She asked me about my progress. Yes, yes, I am shaping up my topic. Yes, yes, I'm doing preliminary lit review. Yes, yes, I am forming a dissertation committee. "And how are other things going?" she asked, not that subtly indicating towards my growing belly, at you.
"It's going well," I said.
"Uh-huh. Is it going to cause problems?" ("It"? You know, "baby" isn't a bad word to use, even if we are standing in the hall way of an academic institution.)
"I've budgeted a couple months time for when the baby comes."
"Good. As long as you factored it into your timeline. What is this, your third?"
"Yes, my third."
"Jesus!" She reacted in a you-are-so-out-of-your-mind, this-is-too-outrageous-to-comprehend sort of way. And I wondered, is three the new twenty in academia?
I walked away after the brief exchange bitterly amused by it. School and motherhood is an uneasy mix. Balancing the two is challenging enough, it turns out that finding someone established within an academic organization who understands what parenting is about and how why a not-crazy-person might choose to become a parent is even more difficult. When you face a roomful of faculties who chose not to have children, how do you explain that you really only have two full work days a week because motherhood takes up the rest of the day AND night, physically AND mentally? How do you convey that sitting on a park bench watching children play for a couple of hours is a good use of your time? How do you help them understand a sick child or a school vacation day means no work time for you? How do you help them see that even though these are the cases, without your children, you will not be complete any more?
But never mind them. I look at your sisters, listen to their laughter, bask in the overflowing glow of love they shower each other in, and feel a joy and contentment that I cannot put into words. I feel your movements in me and cannot wait to meet you, learn more about you, and see you jump into play with your sisters. Yes, you are my third. You are not a roadblock. You are not an extra. You are not the "break" that needs to happen. You are my child, and you will be cherished just like my first and my second are. You will be (are already) loved with all of my heart.
Friday, February 17, 2012
Love is in the air
Monday, when I went to pick Evelyn up, a little boy whom she'd be in the same class with since summer before last came to her and gave her a prolonged, real, heart-felt hug while mumbling "see you tomorrow. See you tomorrow." I told him she won't be back the next day, but will be here again on Wednesday. He looked kind of sad. I wondered what that was all about.
Wednesday morning, as I busied myself helping Evelyn stuff her winter jacket onto her hook, I noticed that, out of all the empty mail boxes, hers were filled with drawings. I thought they may be her art work that I neglected to bring home of Monday, and I thought wrong. They were 11 stick figure drawings, all from the little boy, drawn especially for her. Eleven. Evelyn told me he would also like a play date.
Thursday morning, I got an email from the little boy's mom inviting Evelyn over for the play date.
Friday morning, I signed Evelyn in, looked up, and found the little boy, with his eyes already glued on Evelyn, asking her to go over. Behind him, their teacher looked over and mouthed the words "so in love!" After over a year of being in the same class, it seems like the boy has finally really seen Evelyn and been entranced. He gazed at her through lunch while she munched on without a clue, asking her questions like "Evelyn, do you like the color blue?" He talked and asked about her on the days when she wasn't there, and generally stayed by her when she is. It is very cute, this puppy love. But, you know, with an intensity that took me by surprise. I mean, it's been only a week and we're heading over for a play date already! Clearly not harboring just a slow burning fire, this one!
I am simultaneously amused and heart warmed and, I don't know, nervous about it. Love, could be a finicky thing. I wonder how long it will last and how it will all unfold. I hope it will remain as sweet and fun and harmless as my own first crush (at 7) was.
Monday, February 06, 2012
Lauren's world of purple
Lauren has a purple car. She drives this purple car with her purple key. And in this purple car is the purple blanket of her doggy (which I don't think is purple). She would drive this purple car to her park that has rides (aka Disney), or go to the doctor's to get her purple medicine, which she will take in her purple cup. Thankfully, this purple world happens only in her imagined world. When we sit down for dinner, I am still free to give her a yellow cup. Her sister used to have one regular imaginary character, Janey, that would assume the role of a sister, daughter, or a friend. But Janey always stayed within a story framework, and not into the physical world. Lauren's imagined details, now, have begun to spill over into real life. Yes, there were times when we can't clean up toys because doggy is still using them. But then...
I lay down with her at bed time the other day. It was cold, and I asked her to share a corner of her blanket with me.
"But you have a blanket," she told me, sitting up to point at my legs which are not under any cover that I can see.
"Where?" I asked, a bit confused.
"You have doggy's blanket. Doggy is sharing with you," she said, settle back into bed again and regathering every inch of blanket back to herself.
Right. "But I want the real blanket," I sounded whiny, but I was cold.
"You have the purple blanket. Green blanket is mine," the green one is the solid one that I can see, touch, and get to launder from time to time. The purple one is the cousin of the emperor's new cloth.
After much negotiating, she finally relented and generously let me have some real blanket on top of the doggy blanket. The greedy mommy, hogging TWO blankets.
Another such episode happened in the bathroom, because of course that's where everything takes place. This time she came in with me to use the potty. When it was my turn to go, she turned to open the door. I stopped her, and she said, very indignantly "but doggy has to go potty!" "Tell doggy to wait, she can go after me." I'm getting good at this. When it was doggy's turn, we left the room and closed the door so doggy can have some privacy that I didn't get to enjoy. No, I was not jealous at all.
I lay down with her at bed time the other day. It was cold, and I asked her to share a corner of her blanket with me.
"But you have a blanket," she told me, sitting up to point at my legs which are not under any cover that I can see.
"Where?" I asked, a bit confused.
"You have doggy's blanket. Doggy is sharing with you," she said, settle back into bed again and regathering every inch of blanket back to herself.
Right. "But I want the real blanket," I sounded whiny, but I was cold.
"You have the purple blanket. Green blanket is mine," the green one is the solid one that I can see, touch, and get to launder from time to time. The purple one is the cousin of the emperor's new cloth.
After much negotiating, she finally relented and generously let me have some real blanket on top of the doggy blanket. The greedy mommy, hogging TWO blankets.
Another such episode happened in the bathroom, because of course that's where everything takes place. This time she came in with me to use the potty. When it was my turn to go, she turned to open the door. I stopped her, and she said, very indignantly "but doggy has to go potty!" "Tell doggy to wait, she can go after me." I'm getting good at this. When it was doggy's turn, we left the room and closed the door so doggy can have some privacy that I didn't get to enjoy. No, I was not jealous at all.
Monday, January 30, 2012
Who do you love more?
Since Daddy's her ride buddy at Disney and also her Star War game um... mentor, Evelyn told me the other day: "I love Daddy more then I love you now. I hope you don't mind." As long as you also love me, I'm okay with that, I think.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Situations that makes me cry and laugh at the same time
The two girls love each other. There's no questioning that when you see Lauren volunteering hugs to Evelyn when Evelyn was upset, or when Evelyn bring home art projects with TO LAUREN sprawled all over the top. On Evelyn's school day, Lauren asks about Evelyn's whereabouts, and when Lauren needs to use the potty, Evelyn willingly goes to help situate her onto the training seat. However, no relationship is healthy without some bickering and fighting sprinkled in between, especially now that both of them can express their feelings quite eloquently (by shouting no) and have firm opinions on how things should go. But sometimes, oh, sometimes the reason and ways they fight makes me wonder if I should be upset or just let go and bust my gut laughing.
Example 1.
When we are out in the public, if one of us need to use the potty, all three of us would have to go and squeeze into the public restroom, bag, winter jackets and all. Squeezing into one stall is already difficult enough especially if you wonder about the sanity of the surrounding. When the time comes to close and lock the door, both girls would fight to do it, as if operating the flimsy door latch is the ultimate proof of ability and power. So, one will lock it, then be ordered to back away so the other one can unlock it and lock it again. Same thing happens when we are all finished and need to leave. Both will again fight for the privilege to unlock the door and set us all free. The only solution I came up with is this: the older one unlocks the door, gets out first. The younger one and I remain in the stall, lock it again, so the younger one can unlock it and get out. This little dance has become a part of our potty ritual.
Example 2.
Again, potty related. This time, it happened at home. When I need to go potty, Lauren usually rushes ahead so she can situate herself on her little stool squarely in front of me as I go about my business. Sometimes with a toy, sometimes with a book. In any case, if she's home with me, I don't get to go to the bathroom by myself. So on this day, it happened as usually. Lauren and I were both in the bathroom when Evelyn got bored and demanded from the family room: "I NEED A GROWN UP TO PLAY WITH ME!" Before I can even begin to reply, the little two year old sitting in front of me yelled back, at the top of her lungs: "SHE NEEDS SOME PRIVACY!!!!" Yes, I do, my dear, I do.
Example 3.
There was one day when Lauren finally decided she can award me that little bit of privacy in the bathroom and left me by myself in it. She made sure things were okay by opening the door (a new skill she just developed, to my dismay) every 30 seconds or so to tell me: "Let me check on you. Are you okay?"
Example 4.
The girls can fight in magnificent ways. Evelyn got Lauren mad one day. Lauren responded by getting into her face to tell her "NO!" Evelyn does not like Lauren yelling at her, so she shouted back "DON'T DO THAT!" Which Lauren didn't like to hear either, so she yelled back "DON'T DO THAT!" The next five minutes, the house rang with shouts of "DON'T DO THAT!" One retaliating the other. If we hadn't stopped laughing and interfere, I fear it could go on for hours.
Example 1.
When we are out in the public, if one of us need to use the potty, all three of us would have to go and squeeze into the public restroom, bag, winter jackets and all. Squeezing into one stall is already difficult enough especially if you wonder about the sanity of the surrounding. When the time comes to close and lock the door, both girls would fight to do it, as if operating the flimsy door latch is the ultimate proof of ability and power. So, one will lock it, then be ordered to back away so the other one can unlock it and lock it again. Same thing happens when we are all finished and need to leave. Both will again fight for the privilege to unlock the door and set us all free. The only solution I came up with is this: the older one unlocks the door, gets out first. The younger one and I remain in the stall, lock it again, so the younger one can unlock it and get out. This little dance has become a part of our potty ritual.
Example 2.
Again, potty related. This time, it happened at home. When I need to go potty, Lauren usually rushes ahead so she can situate herself on her little stool squarely in front of me as I go about my business. Sometimes with a toy, sometimes with a book. In any case, if she's home with me, I don't get to go to the bathroom by myself. So on this day, it happened as usually. Lauren and I were both in the bathroom when Evelyn got bored and demanded from the family room: "I NEED A GROWN UP TO PLAY WITH ME!" Before I can even begin to reply, the little two year old sitting in front of me yelled back, at the top of her lungs: "SHE NEEDS SOME PRIVACY!!!!" Yes, I do, my dear, I do.
Example 3.
There was one day when Lauren finally decided she can award me that little bit of privacy in the bathroom and left me by myself in it. She made sure things were okay by opening the door (a new skill she just developed, to my dismay) every 30 seconds or so to tell me: "Let me check on you. Are you okay?"
Example 4.
The girls can fight in magnificent ways. Evelyn got Lauren mad one day. Lauren responded by getting into her face to tell her "NO!" Evelyn does not like Lauren yelling at her, so she shouted back "DON'T DO THAT!" Which Lauren didn't like to hear either, so she yelled back "DON'T DO THAT!" The next five minutes, the house rang with shouts of "DON'T DO THAT!" One retaliating the other. If we hadn't stopped laughing and interfere, I fear it could go on for hours.
Friday, January 13, 2012
A rumbling account on Disney's Hollywood Studio & Magic Kingdom II
Hollywood Studio --
Too short for some rides, too young to properly appreciate the others, Lauren was largely bored here. The only ride that she really, really enjoyed and wanted to do again was Toy Story Mania. She also liked the Disney Playhouse Live Show, singing and dancing along. Indiana Jones she found silly. Beauty and the Beast and the Voyage of the Little Mermaid were sort of okay, but too loud for her.
Evelyn, however, found a favorite in the new Star Wars ride. It's not a gentle ride. Daddy actually found it "scarier" then some of the rides that Evelyn rejected based on her scary scale. But it's Star Wars! And ever ride might present a different story line, and so Evelyn couldn't get enough of it. She rode it four times. Each time existing the ride with such a beam on her face and spring in her steps, there is no mistaking how much fun she was having.
Magic Kingdom II --
Crowds! Is it a national holiday somewhere? There was so much people there that the park actually delayed closing for one blessed hour. The day started out promising, we went from ride to ride without much wait time. Then, we stopped for breakfast, and all momentum was was lost. The long wait at lunch at Chrystal Palace (with reservations!) didn't help either. We went back to the hotel for a midday break and for Evelyn to thoroughly enjoy the slide at the pool (perhaps her favorite thing in all Disney), then went back for a show and the Electric Parade. After the parade though, the crowd either lingered for the fire works show or missed the prolonged opening hour announcement and dispersed. Yay for us. We rode probably as many rides in that one hour as we did the rest of the day. We saw the firework light up the world and bloom overhead as we went from ride to ride. Even the way it caused the shadows to shift was magnificent.
After Star Wars ride, Evelyn is much more open to various rides, and finally agreed to try Space Mountain. She enjoyed the initial parts, but got annoyed when the ride caused her headband to fall and got scared during the pitch-dark-drop parts. Despite all this, on the second day, when we were discussing which park to visit again, she volunteered to go on it again if we decide to go back to Magic Kingdom. Her thrill-riding parents are very proud of her for just trying.
Too short for some rides, too young to properly appreciate the others, Lauren was largely bored here. The only ride that she really, really enjoyed and wanted to do again was Toy Story Mania. She also liked the Disney Playhouse Live Show, singing and dancing along. Indiana Jones she found silly. Beauty and the Beast and the Voyage of the Little Mermaid were sort of okay, but too loud for her.
Evelyn, however, found a favorite in the new Star Wars ride. It's not a gentle ride. Daddy actually found it "scarier" then some of the rides that Evelyn rejected based on her scary scale. But it's Star Wars! And ever ride might present a different story line, and so Evelyn couldn't get enough of it. She rode it four times. Each time existing the ride with such a beam on her face and spring in her steps, there is no mistaking how much fun she was having.
Magic Kingdom II --
Crowds! Is it a national holiday somewhere? There was so much people there that the park actually delayed closing for one blessed hour. The day started out promising, we went from ride to ride without much wait time. Then, we stopped for breakfast, and all momentum was was lost. The long wait at lunch at Chrystal Palace (with reservations!) didn't help either. We went back to the hotel for a midday break and for Evelyn to thoroughly enjoy the slide at the pool (perhaps her favorite thing in all Disney), then went back for a show and the Electric Parade. After the parade though, the crowd either lingered for the fire works show or missed the prolonged opening hour announcement and dispersed. Yay for us. We rode probably as many rides in that one hour as we did the rest of the day. We saw the firework light up the world and bloom overhead as we went from ride to ride. Even the way it caused the shadows to shift was magnificent.
After Star Wars ride, Evelyn is much more open to various rides, and finally agreed to try Space Mountain. She enjoyed the initial parts, but got annoyed when the ride caused her headband to fall and got scared during the pitch-dark-drop parts. Despite all this, on the second day, when we were discussing which park to visit again, she volunteered to go on it again if we decide to go back to Magic Kingdom. Her thrill-riding parents are very proud of her for just trying.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
A rambling account of Universal, Sea World, and Disney (Epcot & Magic Kingdom I)
Universal -
Stayed at Universal Lowe's Royal Pacific hotel which means we can walk to the Island of Adventures in 10-15 minutes, or take a water taxi (!!) there. It also means that we get to go the Wizarding World of Harry Potter an hour before it's open to the public, and have express pass to every ride! So, 7:45am, and we are racing from the water taxi dock to Diagon Alley and Hogwarts. 7:55am, Evelyn and Daddy are already on the Flight of the Hippogriffs. It was a mild roller coaster, really, nothing fancier then the kiddie ones at Canobie Lake Park, but it was much higher and bigger in scale, which caused Evelyn to deem it "too fast", and made her "a little bit scared". Daddy went on to tour Hogwarts. Then, Lauren and Mommy got in line to visit Ollivander's wand store. The wait was long. But we had fun in the line just goofing off and finishing our breakfast croissant (the bag of grapes was the best deal I've seen in theme parks). The little demo in the store (small, cramped, dark, but quite faithful to the book) was short but Lauren found it very amusing (Mommy is jaded and all too aware of the fact that the store owner is but an actor following a script). Frozen butter beer is very yummy (even if the weather is still a bit chilly for any frozen drinks). Daddy's Dragon Challenge ride was terrific (he rode the blue this time, I think). The store displays in the Wizardy World are whimsy and fun (Lauren was deeply worried for the crying Mandrake. "Where's the baby's mommy?" Mommy wishes there's more to the displays besides a few store fronts.) Then, the crowd began to really thicken, so we went to Seuss' Landing and rode - One Fish, Two Fish (once, cause Lauren doesn't want to get wet), the carousel (twice), the Cat in the Hat (three times -- we all really loved it), and the trolley train ride (four times -- we all really, really loved it). The rides incorporated the rich materials from Dr. Seuss books, and the colors, oh the colors and shapes are fabulous. We went back to the three broom sticks for lunch. Evelyn LOVED the kid's chicken legs meal. She devoured it and decided that that's what she'll get next time (if we ever come back while she's still kids-meal-age). Daddy's chicken and ribs (ribs especially) and mommy's Shepard's pie were also good. Lauren liked the apple sauce and grapes... Poseidon's Fury was a lot of fun, to Mommy and Daddy. Both girls freaked out over the darkness and loud sounds. The parents thought Pteranodon's Flyers would be fun and exciting to Evelyn since it's really a high hanging glider and Evelyn loves to swing. Nope. She decided that it was too fast and so, scary. However, we saw a dinosaur hatch in the Discovery Center, so Jurassic Park wasn't a complete bust. Besides, Evelyn had her first Churros, and that girl is sold on it. Walked back to the hotel to play in the heated pool and then ate at the Island again. No hula dancer tonight to our disappointment. The one the night before was wonderful.
Sea World --
Man is this a huge park! Beautiful and big. We visited the aquarium, saw the sea lion and otter show, watched as sea birds try to find crumbs under our lunch table, played at the kiddie rides (Sesame-Place-attitude attendants) and play area (the favorite is probably the 3 story tall slide - both girls went on it 5 or 6 times), watched the Shamu show (Lauren fell asleep before the show ended), and visited sharks and dolphins. Finally, we went back to our hotel, fetched the luggage, and moved on to Disney's Animal Kingdom Lodge (Boma -- YUM!).
Epcot --
Lauren only likes Mikey and Minni, and find Donald huggable but marginally. Pluto and Goofy are dogs. Not friendly enough. However, fishes are fun. Lauren rode Nemo three times (once with Evelyn, Mommy and Daddy, and twice with Daddy while Evelyn and Mommy went on Soarin). Soarin? Gorgeous! Too bad the wait was so long that there's no chance for multiple rides. Evelyn did get to go twice though (Lauren is too short to go on so Mommy and Daddy had to take turns). Rapid Rider Switch pass for rides? awsome!! Evelyn got to sit up front at Crush Talk. Lauren stayed there until the show started, then she burst out crying and ran off to look for Mommy (very scary for Mommy to see). Malstorm was still too much for Evelyn. Lunch with the princesses was fabulous. The food was great and the princesses were very nice. Snow White even pointed out to Evelyn that they both have short hair, wear head bands, and has blue tops on. Evelyn's skirt also matches her cape color. Lauren went on the grand procession with the princesses even though Evelyn sat it out. Evelyn loves how the water fountain sprays water all over the place ("is it raining?" asked Mom). Mexico's ride with the three Amigo's was well received, even though it started out dark, and that there was a volcano on the background painting. Imagination was fun. Captain EO was skipped over because "loud noises and darkness may be scary to young children". Spaceship Earth no longer scare either girls. Daddy got to Test Drive and go on a Mission: Space. Evelyn and Lauren explored the climbing structure in the Mission in Space building. Lauren was doing really well until she bumped her back while being high up. Then it was Mommy poking into the kid size structure trying to guide her out through voice. Evelyn eventually got her down, yelling, at the same time, "NEXT TIME DON'T CLIMB DOWN THAT WAY!" Evelyn got to have churros again. Evelyn made a new friend on the bus ride back to the hotel. They took turns telling terrible knock-knock jokes that make absolutely no sense. We had a full day's activity and skipped midday break. Couldn't believe everyone did so well with it.
Magic Kingdom, I --
The rides that ended with Lauren saying "I want to do this again": Winnie the Pooh (rode it twice), It's a Small World (rode it twice; Lauren danced and sang along the second time), Peter Pan, Cinderella's Carousal (of course), the mad tea party (3 times, twice consecutively in the evening), Buzz Lighteryear's space ranger spin, Aladdin's magic carpet ride, and even Pirates of the Caribbean (Evelyn hid with hands over her ears the whole duration and never wanted to go on it again). Philomagic made her very worried for Donald, but that was the first 3D movie that Evelyn truly enjoyed. Snow White was too scary for both of them. Upon Lauren's request, we went on to the People Mover which Evelyn would love for all of us to ride again just so she could see Lauren's cow-bell-eye frozen expression upon finally exiting the dark area within Space Mountain. The breakfast in Cinderella's castle was fun, but Lauren ended up busy eating her French Toast sticks rather then take pictures with princesses. Should Mommy be glad that at least food still counts more then the fancy princesses. Jasmine told her that Abu could stuff 12 grapes in his mouth. I hope that did not become a challenge or an inspiration. We saw all the Disney characters, and even a moving, talking trash can which greatly amused Lauren. We made a makeshift dinner out of one giant turkey leg, popcorn, a pretzel, and a corn dog. Both girls liked the turkey leg, especially Evelyn, making Mommy pleasantly surprised. With the mid day break, during which Evelyn finally tried out and fell in love with the pool's slide, we were able to stay for the fireworks and be greatly amazed by it. It was spectacular. But by then Lauren was too tired, so she was bothered by the loud noises and spent most of it hiding with hands over her ears in the crook of my neck. She fell asleep before we even got out of the park (which took some time what with the crowd).
Baby's been excited and moving as well. He is constantly on me and Lauren's mind (I keep reminding Lauren about it since when I hold her, she's effectively squishing baby) even when we are busy playing.
Stayed at Universal Lowe's Royal Pacific hotel which means we can walk to the Island of Adventures in 10-15 minutes, or take a water taxi (!!) there. It also means that we get to go the Wizarding World of Harry Potter an hour before it's open to the public, and have express pass to every ride! So, 7:45am, and we are racing from the water taxi dock to Diagon Alley and Hogwarts. 7:55am, Evelyn and Daddy are already on the Flight of the Hippogriffs. It was a mild roller coaster, really, nothing fancier then the kiddie ones at Canobie Lake Park, but it was much higher and bigger in scale, which caused Evelyn to deem it "too fast", and made her "a little bit scared". Daddy went on to tour Hogwarts. Then, Lauren and Mommy got in line to visit Ollivander's wand store. The wait was long. But we had fun in the line just goofing off and finishing our breakfast croissant (the bag of grapes was the best deal I've seen in theme parks). The little demo in the store (small, cramped, dark, but quite faithful to the book) was short but Lauren found it very amusing (Mommy is jaded and all too aware of the fact that the store owner is but an actor following a script). Frozen butter beer is very yummy (even if the weather is still a bit chilly for any frozen drinks). Daddy's Dragon Challenge ride was terrific (he rode the blue this time, I think). The store displays in the Wizardy World are whimsy and fun (Lauren was deeply worried for the crying Mandrake. "Where's the baby's mommy?" Mommy wishes there's more to the displays besides a few store fronts.) Then, the crowd began to really thicken, so we went to Seuss' Landing and rode - One Fish, Two Fish (once, cause Lauren doesn't want to get wet), the carousel (twice), the Cat in the Hat (three times -- we all really loved it), and the trolley train ride (four times -- we all really, really loved it). The rides incorporated the rich materials from Dr. Seuss books, and the colors, oh the colors and shapes are fabulous. We went back to the three broom sticks for lunch. Evelyn LOVED the kid's chicken legs meal. She devoured it and decided that that's what she'll get next time (if we ever come back while she's still kids-meal-age). Daddy's chicken and ribs (ribs especially) and mommy's Shepard's pie were also good. Lauren liked the apple sauce and grapes... Poseidon's Fury was a lot of fun, to Mommy and Daddy. Both girls freaked out over the darkness and loud sounds. The parents thought Pteranodon's Flyers would be fun and exciting to Evelyn since it's really a high hanging glider and Evelyn loves to swing. Nope. She decided that it was too fast and so, scary. However, we saw a dinosaur hatch in the Discovery Center, so Jurassic Park wasn't a complete bust. Besides, Evelyn had her first Churros, and that girl is sold on it. Walked back to the hotel to play in the heated pool and then ate at the Island again. No hula dancer tonight to our disappointment. The one the night before was wonderful.
Sea World --
Man is this a huge park! Beautiful and big. We visited the aquarium, saw the sea lion and otter show, watched as sea birds try to find crumbs under our lunch table, played at the kiddie rides (Sesame-Place-attitude attendants) and play area (the favorite is probably the 3 story tall slide - both girls went on it 5 or 6 times), watched the Shamu show (Lauren fell asleep before the show ended), and visited sharks and dolphins. Finally, we went back to our hotel, fetched the luggage, and moved on to Disney's Animal Kingdom Lodge (Boma -- YUM!).
Epcot --
Lauren only likes Mikey and Minni, and find Donald huggable but marginally. Pluto and Goofy are dogs. Not friendly enough. However, fishes are fun. Lauren rode Nemo three times (once with Evelyn, Mommy and Daddy, and twice with Daddy while Evelyn and Mommy went on Soarin). Soarin? Gorgeous! Too bad the wait was so long that there's no chance for multiple rides. Evelyn did get to go twice though (Lauren is too short to go on so Mommy and Daddy had to take turns). Rapid Rider Switch pass for rides? awsome!! Evelyn got to sit up front at Crush Talk. Lauren stayed there until the show started, then she burst out crying and ran off to look for Mommy (very scary for Mommy to see). Malstorm was still too much for Evelyn. Lunch with the princesses was fabulous. The food was great and the princesses were very nice. Snow White even pointed out to Evelyn that they both have short hair, wear head bands, and has blue tops on. Evelyn's skirt also matches her cape color. Lauren went on the grand procession with the princesses even though Evelyn sat it out. Evelyn loves how the water fountain sprays water all over the place ("is it raining?" asked Mom). Mexico's ride with the three Amigo's was well received, even though it started out dark, and that there was a volcano on the background painting. Imagination was fun. Captain EO was skipped over because "loud noises and darkness may be scary to young children". Spaceship Earth no longer scare either girls. Daddy got to Test Drive and go on a Mission: Space. Evelyn and Lauren explored the climbing structure in the Mission in Space building. Lauren was doing really well until she bumped her back while being high up. Then it was Mommy poking into the kid size structure trying to guide her out through voice. Evelyn eventually got her down, yelling, at the same time, "NEXT TIME DON'T CLIMB DOWN THAT WAY!" Evelyn got to have churros again. Evelyn made a new friend on the bus ride back to the hotel. They took turns telling terrible knock-knock jokes that make absolutely no sense. We had a full day's activity and skipped midday break. Couldn't believe everyone did so well with it.
Magic Kingdom, I --
The rides that ended with Lauren saying "I want to do this again": Winnie the Pooh (rode it twice), It's a Small World (rode it twice; Lauren danced and sang along the second time), Peter Pan, Cinderella's Carousal (of course), the mad tea party (3 times, twice consecutively in the evening), Buzz Lighteryear's space ranger spin, Aladdin's magic carpet ride, and even Pirates of the Caribbean (Evelyn hid with hands over her ears the whole duration and never wanted to go on it again). Philomagic made her very worried for Donald, but that was the first 3D movie that Evelyn truly enjoyed. Snow White was too scary for both of them. Upon Lauren's request, we went on to the People Mover which Evelyn would love for all of us to ride again just so she could see Lauren's cow-bell-eye frozen expression upon finally exiting the dark area within Space Mountain. The breakfast in Cinderella's castle was fun, but Lauren ended up busy eating her French Toast sticks rather then take pictures with princesses. Should Mommy be glad that at least food still counts more then the fancy princesses. Jasmine told her that Abu could stuff 12 grapes in his mouth. I hope that did not become a challenge or an inspiration. We saw all the Disney characters, and even a moving, talking trash can which greatly amused Lauren. We made a makeshift dinner out of one giant turkey leg, popcorn, a pretzel, and a corn dog. Both girls liked the turkey leg, especially Evelyn, making Mommy pleasantly surprised. With the mid day break, during which Evelyn finally tried out and fell in love with the pool's slide, we were able to stay for the fireworks and be greatly amazed by it. It was spectacular. But by then Lauren was too tired, so she was bothered by the loud noises and spent most of it hiding with hands over her ears in the crook of my neck. She fell asleep before we even got out of the park (which took some time what with the crowd).
Baby's been excited and moving as well. He is constantly on me and Lauren's mind (I keep reminding Lauren about it since when I hold her, she's effectively squishing baby) even when we are busy playing.
Thursday, January 05, 2012
Happy birthday, dear child.
Happy fifth birthday, my dear!
In the dim morning light, the first thing you said when you woke up beside me was "Mama, am I five now?", and then you proceeded to ask if your legs look longer and if you've grown taller. I smiled and told you that growing up happens in little bits every day, it does not happen overnight on your birthday. Still, when it came time to brush your teeth, you showed me how you can reach the faucet now without your stool (in tiptoe), and how your pajamas look so much shorter on you then they did last night. After rinsing off your toothpaste, you made a funny face and felt a tooth with your tongue. With wrinkled brow, you informed me that you think that tooth is starting to wiggle loose.
Yes, my love, you are growing up so very fast. Maybe not overnight, but definitely in an alarming pace. You are tall enough for certain roller coasters! We are to register you for kindergarten this year! You are almost too old for some indoor play areas! 5 years. A blink of the eye. Looking at you walking in front of me, feeling your back as I laid my hand on your back to guide you, it is clear that you've shed the toddler chubbiness, and is well on your way to the awkward lankiness that I went through.
Do you know how much I love you? From the moment that I learned of your existence, you have continued to show me how amazing it is to be your mother. To watch you laugh and grow. To watch you explore and embrace new experiences. To listen to your songs and stories and thoughts. Even more amazing is to watch you take on your role as a big sister. Do you know how proud I am for how you take care of your sister? You helped Lauren onto the potty the other morning when none of the adults were available (I had to leave early for school), and waited with her until a grown-up can come help her. And all this done without anyone asking you.
Happy birthday, dear child. 5 years old, and on your way to so much more. You can't wait to grow up, to go to college (you'll stay home for it, you told me), to learn to drive, to wear makeup, to do all these grand things. My only hope is for you to also take it slow and love what you are going through now. There's no replacement for the present, for being 5. Enjoy it. I love you.
In the dim morning light, the first thing you said when you woke up beside me was "Mama, am I five now?", and then you proceeded to ask if your legs look longer and if you've grown taller. I smiled and told you that growing up happens in little bits every day, it does not happen overnight on your birthday. Still, when it came time to brush your teeth, you showed me how you can reach the faucet now without your stool (in tiptoe), and how your pajamas look so much shorter on you then they did last night. After rinsing off your toothpaste, you made a funny face and felt a tooth with your tongue. With wrinkled brow, you informed me that you think that tooth is starting to wiggle loose.
Yes, my love, you are growing up so very fast. Maybe not overnight, but definitely in an alarming pace. You are tall enough for certain roller coasters! We are to register you for kindergarten this year! You are almost too old for some indoor play areas! 5 years. A blink of the eye. Looking at you walking in front of me, feeling your back as I laid my hand on your back to guide you, it is clear that you've shed the toddler chubbiness, and is well on your way to the awkward lankiness that I went through.
Do you know how much I love you? From the moment that I learned of your existence, you have continued to show me how amazing it is to be your mother. To watch you laugh and grow. To watch you explore and embrace new experiences. To listen to your songs and stories and thoughts. Even more amazing is to watch you take on your role as a big sister. Do you know how proud I am for how you take care of your sister? You helped Lauren onto the potty the other morning when none of the adults were available (I had to leave early for school), and waited with her until a grown-up can come help her. And all this done without anyone asking you.
Happy birthday, dear child. 5 years old, and on your way to so much more. You can't wait to grow up, to go to college (you'll stay home for it, you told me), to learn to drive, to wear makeup, to do all these grand things. My only hope is for you to also take it slow and love what you are going through now. There's no replacement for the present, for being 5. Enjoy it. I love you.
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Hello
Hello baby, I think I felt you again just then. And this time, it was definitely you, not gas. Little, tiny thumps on the lower half of my abdomen. Almost like a hiccup. Could it be though? At this early stage?
We saw you this afternoon, me and your daddy. At 16 weeks and 3 days according to the chart or 17 weeks and 5 days according to the ultrasound, you are still small enough to have room to move around. We saw your open hands, your curled up legs, your little heart pumping strong and beautiful at 157 beats per minute, and what could be the indication of you being a boy. Today, you looked healthy and strong. Growing steadily and meeting the doctor's expectations. Seeing you doing so wonderfully eased my mind, if just a bit. Two weeks ago, mommy caught fifth disease (Parvovirus), and now the fear of it passing through the placenta to impact you hangs constantly over my head. That is why we got to see you this one extra time before the big 18 weeks ultrasound. And that is also why we will be seeing you once a week for the next 10-12 weeks afterward. We need to make sure your bone marrow is consistently producing healthy blood cells as it should be, and that there is no sign of you being anemic. Because of this worry, I have been holding on to every news about you tightly, sharing it only sparsely with the world, as if doing so could safe guard you somehow. Silly thoughts, I know. But when there's so little I can do but provide you a place to exist and grow, there is so little in my control that I have to hold on to every bit of it. Your sisters are enthusiastically learning everything about you though. We told them that they should be expecting a baby brother, but that you are still tiny and needs time to grow in my belly. Since that little piece of information was given, every time Lauren sees me, she reconfirms the fact that you are growing in my belly, and that you still need time to grow some more before you can come out. She can't wait for you to be out so she can hug you, hold you, take care of you, and play with you. In fact, you were the number one item on her Christmas list. We had to tell her that you are out of Santa's jurisdiction. So funny, the third time around and the thought of a little life living inside of me is still such a curious one that seems incredulous and amazing. Since the second trimester, I've been feeling a lot better in terms of morning sickness. It almost feel like my body is back to be my own, but it's not. For there's you. Yet for the longest time I have yet to grow big nor feel you. Now there's that little thump. I am so glad you are actively reminding me of your existence. I can't wait to have a big belly and feel you straining against my skin, poking and elbowing and kicking and ready to be free. Feeling your sister's body snuggling close to me at bed time, I wondered what you would be like. Would it be completely different from having little girls? Would you like to snuggle as much as your sisters? What would I need to do differently? Would you be okay with so much pink stuff around? How am I suppose to potty train you? I hope I will do you go. I know I will try. For now, stay and grow. I will try my best to keep you safe and healthy. Know that I love you. We all do.
We saw you this afternoon, me and your daddy. At 16 weeks and 3 days according to the chart or 17 weeks and 5 days according to the ultrasound, you are still small enough to have room to move around. We saw your open hands, your curled up legs, your little heart pumping strong and beautiful at 157 beats per minute, and what could be the indication of you being a boy. Today, you looked healthy and strong. Growing steadily and meeting the doctor's expectations. Seeing you doing so wonderfully eased my mind, if just a bit. Two weeks ago, mommy caught fifth disease (Parvovirus), and now the fear of it passing through the placenta to impact you hangs constantly over my head. That is why we got to see you this one extra time before the big 18 weeks ultrasound. And that is also why we will be seeing you once a week for the next 10-12 weeks afterward. We need to make sure your bone marrow is consistently producing healthy blood cells as it should be, and that there is no sign of you being anemic. Because of this worry, I have been holding on to every news about you tightly, sharing it only sparsely with the world, as if doing so could safe guard you somehow. Silly thoughts, I know. But when there's so little I can do but provide you a place to exist and grow, there is so little in my control that I have to hold on to every bit of it. Your sisters are enthusiastically learning everything about you though. We told them that they should be expecting a baby brother, but that you are still tiny and needs time to grow in my belly. Since that little piece of information was given, every time Lauren sees me, she reconfirms the fact that you are growing in my belly, and that you still need time to grow some more before you can come out. She can't wait for you to be out so she can hug you, hold you, take care of you, and play with you. In fact, you were the number one item on her Christmas list. We had to tell her that you are out of Santa's jurisdiction. So funny, the third time around and the thought of a little life living inside of me is still such a curious one that seems incredulous and amazing. Since the second trimester, I've been feeling a lot better in terms of morning sickness. It almost feel like my body is back to be my own, but it's not. For there's you. Yet for the longest time I have yet to grow big nor feel you. Now there's that little thump. I am so glad you are actively reminding me of your existence. I can't wait to have a big belly and feel you straining against my skin, poking and elbowing and kicking and ready to be free. Feeling your sister's body snuggling close to me at bed time, I wondered what you would be like. Would it be completely different from having little girls? Would you like to snuggle as much as your sisters? What would I need to do differently? Would you be okay with so much pink stuff around? How am I suppose to potty train you? I hope I will do you go. I know I will try. For now, stay and grow. I will try my best to keep you safe and healthy. Know that I love you. We all do.
Thursday, May 12, 2011
You climbed into our bed last night scratching furiously at the bug bite on the back of your hand. It was swollen and inflamed. A nasty sight. Groggy and desperate of sleep, I asked you to bring over the medicine on your bathroom counter, and you did without complaint, even though the hallways were dark and the house was quiet. Even though you are often scared of the night. I listened to your quick, four-year-old sized footsteps as you raced down the hall, switched on the light, used the bathroom and then rushed back, medicine and Q-tip clutched in your hand. Medicine applied, you snuggled close beside me and went back to sleep.
A typical night of a mother; interrupted sleep that is dotted with the pride felt for a well behaved child, and the sweetness of being loved.
A typical night of a mother; interrupted sleep that is dotted with the pride felt for a well behaved child, and the sweetness of being loved.
Monday, May 09, 2011
Swing
At your request, we stopped by the play ground on our way home from dropping your sister off at school.
All you wanted to do there was swing, and so swing we did.
You started off on the baby bucket swing. After a few minutes, you pointed at the normal swing and told me you want to be on the "big swing". "With mommy?" I asked. "Yes," you answered. Off we we went swinging on the big swing, you snugly in my lap, me a bit uncomfortably on the almost-too-small swing, arms looped around the chains and fingers laced in front of your chest. Every time I kick forward, your body would sway towards me. When we rock forward, my arms act as safety belt to keep you securely within my lap.
The sun shone golden on the soft, new leaves above our heads. The wind, brisk as it was, tickled. Front and back we swung, listening to birds sing, pointing out airplanes in the sky, and watched as trees danced in the wind. Sometimes we swung in silent, sometimes I sing a little tune, until I felt your body relaxing against mine, and your head leaning against my arm. A quick peak found you comfortably asleep as I continued to swing, back and forth, back and forth.
I slowed down, stopped, carried a sleeping you back into the car, and hope that I would never, ever forget the simple joy and love that was this morning.
All you wanted to do there was swing, and so swing we did.
You started off on the baby bucket swing. After a few minutes, you pointed at the normal swing and told me you want to be on the "big swing". "With mommy?" I asked. "Yes," you answered. Off we we went swinging on the big swing, you snugly in my lap, me a bit uncomfortably on the almost-too-small swing, arms looped around the chains and fingers laced in front of your chest. Every time I kick forward, your body would sway towards me. When we rock forward, my arms act as safety belt to keep you securely within my lap.
The sun shone golden on the soft, new leaves above our heads. The wind, brisk as it was, tickled. Front and back we swung, listening to birds sing, pointing out airplanes in the sky, and watched as trees danced in the wind. Sometimes we swung in silent, sometimes I sing a little tune, until I felt your body relaxing against mine, and your head leaning against my arm. A quick peak found you comfortably asleep as I continued to swing, back and forth, back and forth.
I slowed down, stopped, carried a sleeping you back into the car, and hope that I would never, ever forget the simple joy and love that was this morning.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
"He's autistic"
It was only 1:30pm when I found myself glancing at the clock every few minutes or so and wishing that it's really much later then it was. Preferably around 5:30 when soon we would hear the key turn in the door, and the girls' father comes home to share the joy of parenting that seems like a lie people tells to get you to reproduce. Sure signs of a rough afternoon. Rather than stay at home where emotional land minds are everywhere and tantrum triggers hide in wait at every corner, I packed up the girls and escaped to an indoor play area that will distract us all.
What with the wet weather and a scheduled birthday party, the place was packed with kids and parents. Though quite chaotic, everyone seemed to be playing nicely enough for me to set the girls free (with supervision, of course). The girls soon claimed two Tiny Tikes cars (you know, the kind that you drive Flintstones-style with your feet) and drove around town until a boy of perhaps 5 approached Evelyn's car. Judging by his body language, I knew he was ready to try something for the car. I stayed away to see how Evelyn would respond. (We're working on getting her to stand her own ground.)
The boy used no words. He pulled at the car door. Evelyn tensed up but did nothing but looked at him blankly. Seeing that she did not budge, he went and sat on the back of her car. She cried to me for help and that scared him away.
I went and spoke briefly with Evelyn to offer her some comfort and tell her what to do in these occasions. After I left, the boy came back and upped the level of attack. He held on to the car door, shook it hard, and tried to grab Evelyn while she, again, shut down and endured in silence. This time I rushed over before it got out of hand, and told him to stop in my "if you don't listen to me you will be in big trouble, buddy" voice. That sent him running away with a squeal to a corner of the little cafe where two women were thoroughly engaged in conversation. Maybe one of them is his mother, I thought, and would do something to stop him. But no one paid him any mind. While I was talking Evelyn through what just happened, I saw the boy inching back towards us. His eyes were on me and the hand holding a toy was raised. He came near and tried to struck me. ME! An adult who is, what, 1.5 times his size! What the heck! Where's the respect?
The attempt was aborted when I turned towards him to ask him where his parent was. He ran away like before to the same corner. And then, and then, he rush back to tentatively poke my shoulder when I had my back turned. A puny attempt. Such a pathetic, cowardly thing to do. What, you can't even be a proper bully and had to wait until I had my back turned to act? And even then you can only deliver such a sad little poke?
Any way, his mother finally showed up and gave chase as he ran away to hide in a play house. Turns out she was one of the conversing women! While her son was bullying my daughter and then tried to bully me, she was only a few feet away and did nothing! Furthermore, she did nothing about what she just witnessed except offering him the car that Evelyn finally gave up! No stern talking to. No time out. No "go apologize". Nothing.
I went and spoke briefly with Evelyn to offer her some comfort and tell her what to do in these occasions. After I left, the boy came back and upped the level of attack. He held on to the car door, shook it hard, and tried to grab Evelyn while she, again, shut down and endured in silence. This time I rushed over before it got out of hand, and told him to stop in my "if you don't listen to me you will be in big trouble, buddy" voice. That sent him running away with a squeal to a corner of the little cafe where two women were thoroughly engaged in conversation. Maybe one of them is his mother, I thought, and would do something to stop him. But no one paid him any mind. While I was talking Evelyn through what just happened, I saw the boy inching back towards us. His eyes were on me and the hand holding a toy was raised. He came near and tried to struck me. ME! An adult who is, what, 1.5 times his size! What the heck! Where's the respect?
The attempt was aborted when I turned towards him to ask him where his parent was. He ran away like before to the same corner. And then, and then, he rush back to tentatively poke my shoulder when I had my back turned. A puny attempt. Such a pathetic, cowardly thing to do. What, you can't even be a proper bully and had to wait until I had my back turned to act? And even then you can only deliver such a sad little poke?
Any way, his mother finally showed up and gave chase as he ran away to hide in a play house. Turns out she was one of the conversing women! While her son was bullying my daughter and then tried to bully me, she was only a few feet away and did nothing! Furthermore, she did nothing about what she just witnessed except offering him the car that Evelyn finally gave up! No stern talking to. No time out. No "go apologize". Nothing.
My blood began to boil. As soon as she sat back with her friend, I went over and told her that her son was physically antagonizing my child, hoping to get some response out of her. She gave a noncommittal answer that was little better than a shrug, and turned her attention back to her friend. What? WHAT? Did you not hear what I just told you? Did you not see what went on? Oh, I'm sorry, is my topic not as fun as what your conversation is about? Are you blind to what's going on here? Your son is only five, probably 3.5 feet tall and already destructive and harmful. What would happen if he continues to get his way? What would happen when he hits adolescence when he grew to his full height and weight? Who would be his targets? Who would not be?
Her lack of reaction made my face flush and my heart pound with anger, but also completely confused. Can any parent really be so indifferent to their child's behavior and upbringing? Was the boy's well being not at all important?
Her ambivalent threw me off. Rather than continue my half-ass confrontation (never good at it), I went back to the girls and proceed to watch the boy like a hawk in case he dare come near us again. The thing was, the play ground was so busy, he never lacked kids to pick on. He followed a 2-year-old girl around with a toy pointing at her as if its a weapon. Then, he joined two boys' rough housing, and carried it too far by hitting one of the boys' head with his toy, repeatedly. His mother chased him as he ran away again, and gave him a few words. A few words, that's it! After he bang someone's head intentionally and repeatedly! As I was watching it unfold, her friend appeared beside me and apologized for what had happened earlier.
"He's autistic," she explained, "it's been difficult..."
"He's autistic," she explained, "it's been difficult..."
Autistic. The word was like a bucket of cold water dousing over my head. The rage that was burning in me? Disappeared with a puff of smoke. The hawk that was watching the boy? Turned into a little dung beetle and scuttled away. Everything that I've read about autism ran through my head. The temper tantrums, the dissociation with other people, and the communication obstacles. It must be difficult, I thought, and came up with some excuses for the boy and the mother. Maybe this was the first day they've gone out in a long while. Maybe the mother really needed a break. Maybe it has been a long time since she had a chance to catch up with a friend. Maybe... Yet hard as I try, none of the maybe's justify how she handled the boy's transgressions.
If the boy's behavior towards others was nothing new, should the mother not be monitoring him even more diligently? The crowds and sounds in the play ground may overwhelm any child, never mind a sensory sensitive autistic child. There were so many possible provocations to outbursts, and so many potentially harmful situations to him and others, should she not be paying closer attention?
I understand a mother's need (especially a stay-at-home mom's) to step out of the house and socialize with another adult, just to verify that there is still a living, thinking individual underneath the hubbub that is also called motherhood. There were times when I was tempted to drag the girls out for a play date, by their hair if need by, even if they kick and scream all the way, because of how much I craved for conversations that does not involve princesses or had to be spoken in mock cheerfulness or include words like "I'm going to count to three...". But you are never relieved of your parenting responsibilities when the child is with you no matter how lively your company, or how engaging the conversation you were having. Is it not our job to make sure that our children grow up to be proper human beings? Even with autism, the boy should still be taught about proper behavior, about boundaries, about right and wrong. Today, him still being just a boy, his actions and the consequences of them are his mother's to bear. What he had done at the play ground was no fault of his. The fault lies squarely on his mother's shoulders. This time, no one was injured and no one made any fuss. What happens if someone was really hurt?
I don't think I will ever forget the boy and his mother. In case you can't tell from this chapter I just wrote, I was quite shaken by the mother's handling of the situation. I sincerely hope that this was an off-day for an usually attentive and thoughtful mother, and that the boy will grow up okay. Or else... or else I wish the boy all the luck he needs to navigate through life unharmed and to do no harm to others.
If the boy's behavior towards others was nothing new, should the mother not be monitoring him even more diligently? The crowds and sounds in the play ground may overwhelm any child, never mind a sensory sensitive autistic child. There were so many possible provocations to outbursts, and so many potentially harmful situations to him and others, should she not be paying closer attention?
I understand a mother's need (especially a stay-at-home mom's) to step out of the house and socialize with another adult, just to verify that there is still a living, thinking individual underneath the hubbub that is also called motherhood. There were times when I was tempted to drag the girls out for a play date, by their hair if need by, even if they kick and scream all the way, because of how much I craved for conversations that does not involve princesses or had to be spoken in mock cheerfulness or include words like "I'm going to count to three...". But you are never relieved of your parenting responsibilities when the child is with you no matter how lively your company, or how engaging the conversation you were having. Is it not our job to make sure that our children grow up to be proper human beings? Even with autism, the boy should still be taught about proper behavior, about boundaries, about right and wrong. Today, him still being just a boy, his actions and the consequences of them are his mother's to bear. What he had done at the play ground was no fault of his. The fault lies squarely on his mother's shoulders. This time, no one was injured and no one made any fuss. What happens if someone was really hurt?
I don't think I will ever forget the boy and his mother. In case you can't tell from this chapter I just wrote, I was quite shaken by the mother's handling of the situation. I sincerely hope that this was an off-day for an usually attentive and thoughtful mother, and that the boy will grow up okay. Or else... or else I wish the boy all the luck he needs to navigate through life unharmed and to do no harm to others.
Thursday, March 03, 2011
Part-time? Full-time?
At Lauren's new play group yesterday, a mom asked me if I am a full-time mom. The assumption was that since I'm there on a Wednesday morning, I must be.
Surprisingly, I did not know how to answer her.
Am I a full-time mother when I rely on my mother-in-law to care for my children two days a week while I try to work towards a potential future career?
Am I only half-time then when motherhood is the main responsibilities and duties I perform?
Is it decided by the hours I put in into them? Or could it be measured by how much thought I put into each category?
Neither is never far from my mind. When I am working, the images of the little girls may be reduced to two little bean-like figures crouching at the edge of my mind, but they are never dispersed. When I am with them, the questions and issues I have towards work may be muted, but they never cease to nibble at my consciousness.
If you put school work and motherhood on the table and ask me to prioritize, motherhood definitely wins out. I will never render the primary care taker position of my girls to any one else. When I have the girls, we play, bake, read, sing, dance. I at most sneak a couple of minutes to check my email if I know something important is coming in (or if I am having a minor panic attack about my school work). On those days, I am not physically engaged with the academics. Does this make me a lesser would-be scholar?
But I've also handed a feverish child to her grandmother in order to attend class before. Does this make me a lesser mom?
I know I can't have it all. I am already lucky to have the support of my family to be on my quest for this degree. I dare not ask more of others but of myself to continue and try. Try and reach and pray that the carrot dangling in front of me is not fixed at arm's length, but would finally be within my grasp. More importantly, I pray that the carrot is as tasty and satisfying as I imagine it to be.
Surprisingly, I did not know how to answer her.
Am I a full-time mother when I rely on my mother-in-law to care for my children two days a week while I try to work towards a potential future career?
Am I only half-time then when motherhood is the main responsibilities and duties I perform?
Is it decided by the hours I put in into them? Or could it be measured by how much thought I put into each category?
Neither is never far from my mind. When I am working, the images of the little girls may be reduced to two little bean-like figures crouching at the edge of my mind, but they are never dispersed. When I am with them, the questions and issues I have towards work may be muted, but they never cease to nibble at my consciousness.
If you put school work and motherhood on the table and ask me to prioritize, motherhood definitely wins out. I will never render the primary care taker position of my girls to any one else. When I have the girls, we play, bake, read, sing, dance. I at most sneak a couple of minutes to check my email if I know something important is coming in (or if I am having a minor panic attack about my school work). On those days, I am not physically engaged with the academics. Does this make me a lesser would-be scholar?
But I've also handed a feverish child to her grandmother in order to attend class before. Does this make me a lesser mom?
I know I can't have it all. I am already lucky to have the support of my family to be on my quest for this degree. I dare not ask more of others but of myself to continue and try. Try and reach and pray that the carrot dangling in front of me is not fixed at arm's length, but would finally be within my grasp. More importantly, I pray that the carrot is as tasty and satisfying as I imagine it to be.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Loss
A childhood friend died suddenly of an illness last week.
She was one of my best friends in elementary school. I recall, easily, her smile, her voice, the way she talked. I remembered going to her house for a birthday get together (not many kids have birthday parties back then in Taiwan), and being in the band together. Last I saw her was probably on our graduation day over 20 years ago. And I didn't think of her much until last year, when we were all swept into a torrent of friend requests from long lost elementary school classmates. It was on a bright, sunny day when I saw my email account filled with friend requests from these long lost connections. Grown adult whose faces or postures carried hints of days of yore, but whose English names may give little clue as to who they were. I spent a good deal of time squinting at the tiny thumbnail profile pictures on my computer screen, trying to gather as many clues from the unfamiliar face in front of me to match up with the dusty images of children buried deep in my memory. Brows furrowed and eyes tearing up from hard use, there were many Eureka moments when a name was suddenly recalled, memories were polished and brought forth, and a face given context. Her face though, was not one that needed much effort to place. Even with an unfamiliar English name and a tiny thumbprint, I was able to recognize her in a glance. Still, with a gap of 20 years between us, the flow of old friend being known anew, and both not active status updaters, we never made direct contact. To know that we are connected by FB was somehow enough for me. I shouldn't have felt that way.
While whiling away the time nursing a flu-stricken child, I went online and was shocked to see RIP messages left on her wall. RIP, rest in peace. How? When? Not possible. No. I couldn't wrap my head around the idea of an old friend passed away. And yet it was real. I did not even know that she was sick. I obsessively went through her profile, read every message, scrutinized every photo, trying to make up for the chance that I missed to get to know a grown her. Where did she work? What was she like? How tall did she eventually grow to be? Did she still slouch like we both did when we were little girls? Was that picture taken in Boston Commons? Had she ever been in my neighborhood? I never get to hear her grown up voice, see her grown up feature, hear any story of hers. Now I never will. It was my own fault.
Carpe Diem, people say. Seize the day. Treasure those around you. Cherish health. Why does it always take a loss in such magnitude to shake people up?
Seize the day? Sure. To do what? Build new friendships? Reconnect with old ones? Hug your children a little more? Work a little harder toward a potentially fulfilling career? Enjoy life as if there is no tomorrow?
There are only 24 hours a day, and I am but one person with no answers. I make choices, and hopefully not ones that I will regret much later. These days though, I am regretting a choice I did not make, the choice of reaching out to her while I still had the chance. Now she is gone, and all I can do is think of her, and leave her messages on her wall, hoping that it would mean something.
She was one of my best friends in elementary school. I recall, easily, her smile, her voice, the way she talked. I remembered going to her house for a birthday get together (not many kids have birthday parties back then in Taiwan), and being in the band together. Last I saw her was probably on our graduation day over 20 years ago. And I didn't think of her much until last year, when we were all swept into a torrent of friend requests from long lost elementary school classmates. It was on a bright, sunny day when I saw my email account filled with friend requests from these long lost connections. Grown adult whose faces or postures carried hints of days of yore, but whose English names may give little clue as to who they were. I spent a good deal of time squinting at the tiny thumbnail profile pictures on my computer screen, trying to gather as many clues from the unfamiliar face in front of me to match up with the dusty images of children buried deep in my memory. Brows furrowed and eyes tearing up from hard use, there were many Eureka moments when a name was suddenly recalled, memories were polished and brought forth, and a face given context. Her face though, was not one that needed much effort to place. Even with an unfamiliar English name and a tiny thumbprint, I was able to recognize her in a glance. Still, with a gap of 20 years between us, the flow of old friend being known anew, and both not active status updaters, we never made direct contact. To know that we are connected by FB was somehow enough for me. I shouldn't have felt that way.
While whiling away the time nursing a flu-stricken child, I went online and was shocked to see RIP messages left on her wall. RIP, rest in peace. How? When? Not possible. No. I couldn't wrap my head around the idea of an old friend passed away. And yet it was real. I did not even know that she was sick. I obsessively went through her profile, read every message, scrutinized every photo, trying to make up for the chance that I missed to get to know a grown her. Where did she work? What was she like? How tall did she eventually grow to be? Did she still slouch like we both did when we were little girls? Was that picture taken in Boston Commons? Had she ever been in my neighborhood? I never get to hear her grown up voice, see her grown up feature, hear any story of hers. Now I never will. It was my own fault.
Carpe Diem, people say. Seize the day. Treasure those around you. Cherish health. Why does it always take a loss in such magnitude to shake people up?
Seize the day? Sure. To do what? Build new friendships? Reconnect with old ones? Hug your children a little more? Work a little harder toward a potentially fulfilling career? Enjoy life as if there is no tomorrow?
There are only 24 hours a day, and I am but one person with no answers. I make choices, and hopefully not ones that I will regret much later. These days though, I am regretting a choice I did not make, the choice of reaching out to her while I still had the chance. Now she is gone, and all I can do is think of her, and leave her messages on her wall, hoping that it would mean something.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
"I'm in love"
Evelyn saw a boy asking a girl out on a date on TV the other day, and asked me what a "date" is. I told her it's how a boy and a girl spend time doing something together, getting to know each other, and they might eventually fall into love. She took this in, gave me a big smile, and told me that "I'm in love with Ryan," her best friend at school.
"Oh," I said, not fully sure how to react to this news.
"I'm going to marry him," she continued.
"Ah, really!" So many thoughts and feelings rushed through my head that I was at a lost for words.
"I'm going to marry him when I grow up," she fallowed up, giving me something to heave a big sigh of relief about.
"How old is 'grown up', Evelyn?" I asked. "16," she said.
"How about 26?" I suggested.
"Oh," I said, not fully sure how to react to this news.
"I'm going to marry him," she continued.
"Ah, really!" So many thoughts and feelings rushed through my head that I was at a lost for words.
"I'm going to marry him when I grow up," she fallowed up, giving me something to heave a big sigh of relief about.
"How old is 'grown up', Evelyn?" I asked. "16," she said.
"How about 26?" I suggested.
Evelyn's Valentine
Last week, we got a notice from Evelyn's teacher about Valentine's Day. The children will be making a Valentine's Day bag to be hung outside of the classroom. Whoever wishes to hand out Valentines to their friends are free to do so, but must give every children in the class one. Of course Evelyn would love to give out Valentines. That means Valentines for all 21 of her classmates. Now, one disadvantage of not growing up in the same culture and system that I am now raising my daughters in is that I have no experience in these things. I did not know that there are punch out Valentines that you can get in batches to be separated, signed, folded, and given out. My instinct was to make them. All 21 of them. So I went online and Googled Valentine's card ideas (no one mentioned punch out cards there, either), and picked one that I think should be easy to execute. It involves using a cookie cutter to cut out potato stamps to stamp out pretty pictures. It took us two days to complete the cards. Two days of frantic but restrained "Evelyn! Don't smear it!" and "Evelyn! Don't move until I get there!" and "Evelyn! Think before you do something!" By 8:30pm on Sunday night, we had all 21 cards made, signed (all by Evelyn) and ready to go. Evelyn had a blast stamping, making pictures, and signing her name. Her sister had a blast trying to taste painted potato stamps and getting her hands on paint brushes. And I survived with still some hair on my head.
These cards are by no means perfect; there are runny inks, water stains, and innovative word placements, but I can proudly say that Evelyn did most of the work. Not only that, but she did it without screaming, fussing, or giving up. I sincerely hope that her friends know to appreciate the effort that went into these cards!
These cards are by no means perfect; there are runny inks, water stains, and innovative word placements, but I can proudly say that Evelyn did most of the work. Not only that, but she did it without screaming, fussing, or giving up. I sincerely hope that her friends know to appreciate the effort that went into these cards!
Thursday, December 02, 2010
Apprentice
Evelyn: Daddy, what's an "apprentice"?
Daddy: It's someone who learns to make things from a master. So a copper's apprentice learns how to make barrels from a copper. A cobblers apprentice learns how to make shoes from a copper.
Evelyn gave it some thought. Then, she said: A princess doesn't make things.
Daddy asks: What does a princess do then?
Evelyn: A princess cleans, dances, and has helpers (ala Cinderella's mice or Snow White's woodland animals).
Yes, that's right, a princess doesn't just sit around dressed all pretty. She cleans and dances, too, and maintain friendships with little animals. I'll take that.
Daddy: It's someone who learns to make things from a master. So a copper's apprentice learns how to make barrels from a copper. A cobblers apprentice learns how to make shoes from a copper.
Evelyn gave it some thought. Then, she said: A princess doesn't make things.
Daddy asks: What does a princess do then?
Evelyn: A princess cleans, dances, and has helpers (ala Cinderella's mice or Snow White's woodland animals).
Yes, that's right, a princess doesn't just sit around dressed all pretty. She cleans and dances, too, and maintain friendships with little animals. I'll take that.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
The bubbles must be from the mermaids in the water
I always wondered at the world seen through a child's eyes. Sprinkled liberally with details from their imagination, it must be so much livelier and colorful than the world I see through my wary adult eyes.
Evelyn's world is crowded with imaginary play mates. There's Janey who is sometimes her daughter sometimes her friend; Laney who is her son; the new addition, Abigail who is her baby girl; and the imaginary pet, Fido. Sometimes, she would talk about her "imaginary mom". Yes, as if her real mom is so not up to par that she needs to make up a new one. But then I realized that her real mom, me that is, is firmly anchored in the nitty-gritty practicality of life, and lacks romantic theatrics that could spice up any old day. I mean, just take a look at me, baby on hip, shirt often decorated by the baby with fruit stain and graham cracker, hair roughly finger combed through, dark circles hanging under my eyes; not exactly the picture of elegance that the three-year-old seeks in her fairy tale like world. Besides, the gentle mothers in her stories would never utter harsh phrases such as "don't dip your hair into the milk!" or "kitchen towel is not a veil, put it back". Moreover, her imaginary mom could "die" on command so that she could gracefully wallow in sarrow.
Real life experiences often gets incorporated into her imaginary world. After Lauren's birth, Evelyn has given birth to Janey so many times, I couldn't even begin to keep track. Upon hearing a friend acquiring a puppy, Fido came to life. Evelyn would all of a sudden dash off to a corner to check on him, or stop in mid step to call for him.
One night, I asked her to take off the plastic ring on her finger before she goes to bed. She pointed out that I get to wear my ring all day long. I told her that's because the ring is my wedding ring. It's ultra special , and I don't ever take it off. Right after I told her this, she told me that she married Gentry (a new imaginary character), and the plastic ring is her wedding ring. In fact, she is right now sitting in Gentry's castle. Yes, she loves Gentry and he loves her, more than that, she's actually making a baby right now. See, Evelyn gestured with her hand, her belly is growing bigger, and bigger, and bigger by the minute. She even held up an imaginary sonogram to show me the progress of her baby's growth.
Sometimes, the imaginary world also encroaches upon real life. Actions and decisions were made because of certain imaginary plot. The other day, we let Evelyn choose between two restaurants for Saturday night. She's been asking to go to the first one for a couple of weeks, but her daddy wanted to give her an option, so offered her the second one for choice. At first, she was decisive, she wanted to go to the first restaurant. But then she thought about it and told us that Janey wants to go to the second one, so maybe we should go to the second one. "Really?" we asked, "is that your choice too? We'll go to whichever one you want to go to." She pondered some more. Finally, she told us that Janey would be too fussy in the second restaurant, so we better go to the first one. So the first one it was.
At a family event at Evelyn's school, one of her teachers told me that on a walk in the woods the other day, the children came to a little brook. When they saw the bubbles in the gurgling water, they easily came to the conclusion that the bubbles must be made by the mermaids in the water. Because of course bubbles are pretty and fun and almost mythical, and of course there are mermaids in any body of water. Did I once also see the world this way? I wish I remembered how.
Evelyn's world is crowded with imaginary play mates. There's Janey who is sometimes her daughter sometimes her friend; Laney who is her son; the new addition, Abigail who is her baby girl; and the imaginary pet, Fido. Sometimes, she would talk about her "imaginary mom". Yes, as if her real mom is so not up to par that she needs to make up a new one. But then I realized that her real mom, me that is, is firmly anchored in the nitty-gritty practicality of life, and lacks romantic theatrics that could spice up any old day. I mean, just take a look at me, baby on hip, shirt often decorated by the baby with fruit stain and graham cracker, hair roughly finger combed through, dark circles hanging under my eyes; not exactly the picture of elegance that the three-year-old seeks in her fairy tale like world. Besides, the gentle mothers in her stories would never utter harsh phrases such as "don't dip your hair into the milk!" or "kitchen towel is not a veil, put it back". Moreover, her imaginary mom could "die" on command so that she could gracefully wallow in sarrow.
Real life experiences often gets incorporated into her imaginary world. After Lauren's birth, Evelyn has given birth to Janey so many times, I couldn't even begin to keep track. Upon hearing a friend acquiring a puppy, Fido came to life. Evelyn would all of a sudden dash off to a corner to check on him, or stop in mid step to call for him.
One night, I asked her to take off the plastic ring on her finger before she goes to bed. She pointed out that I get to wear my ring all day long. I told her that's because the ring is my wedding ring. It's ultra special , and I don't ever take it off. Right after I told her this, she told me that she married Gentry (a new imaginary character), and the plastic ring is her wedding ring. In fact, she is right now sitting in Gentry's castle. Yes, she loves Gentry and he loves her, more than that, she's actually making a baby right now. See, Evelyn gestured with her hand, her belly is growing bigger, and bigger, and bigger by the minute. She even held up an imaginary sonogram to show me the progress of her baby's growth.
Sometimes, the imaginary world also encroaches upon real life. Actions and decisions were made because of certain imaginary plot. The other day, we let Evelyn choose between two restaurants for Saturday night. She's been asking to go to the first one for a couple of weeks, but her daddy wanted to give her an option, so offered her the second one for choice. At first, she was decisive, she wanted to go to the first restaurant. But then she thought about it and told us that Janey wants to go to the second one, so maybe we should go to the second one. "Really?" we asked, "is that your choice too? We'll go to whichever one you want to go to." She pondered some more. Finally, she told us that Janey would be too fussy in the second restaurant, so we better go to the first one. So the first one it was.
At a family event at Evelyn's school, one of her teachers told me that on a walk in the woods the other day, the children came to a little brook. When they saw the bubbles in the gurgling water, they easily came to the conclusion that the bubbles must be made by the mermaids in the water. Because of course bubbles are pretty and fun and almost mythical, and of course there are mermaids in any body of water. Did I once also see the world this way? I wish I remembered how.
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