My baby is growing up. Every mom out there knows how this simultaneously makes your heart sing and weep. I got a call last week from the daycare directress. She asked me if I had started thinking about preschools for the kid. I mean, it's always been in the back of my mind, but having someone outside of your own family bring it up as a necessary and inevitable next step is just jarring, I guess. The kid is in a childcare program at the University where I work. He is currently in the Infant/Toddler Center and the way the system goes, the care is seamless, so he simply moves on to one of the two preschools on campus. Like I said, I knew it was coming, but preschool just sound so grown-up! My baby goes to daycare where ALL the infants and toddlers go to daycare. Where the babies are supposed to go. Only that he isn't a baby anymore.
So I went to visit the two different preschools last week. Both are wonderful programs, and honestly, it's going to be tough choosing between the two. I am blessed to say that when doing a standard pro/con list, cons were hard to find. Both had a number of pros and it's just a matter of deciding which pros are more important to us...and to the kid. But when visiting the schools, all I could think was that these kids seem so old. So grown up. So much like little people and not like babies anymore. And a lot of the kids in the classrooms I visited, I've known since they were babies. They were at the Infant/Toddler Center with the kid as well...and they've grown and moved on. I wondered if their mothers felt the same way I did standing there in the middle of the controlled chaos. But they are mothers. Of course they did.
I know I sound melodramatic. Even weepy and pathetic. Honestly, I am proud...because the kid is independent and smart and can do a lot of things on his own now. Haven't M and I been working so hard all along so that he can grow as such? But it was only yesterday that he was a helpless infant, who, with those big, brown, wonderful eyes sought out mommy at all times because he was dependent on me...for nourishment, for comfort, for everything he needed but could not provide on his own. Now I realize that I was and am just as dependent on him...for almost the very same things. I wear my heart and soul outside of my body in the form of a dynamic, precocious, energetic, but benevolent little boy. Who, as it is, is not going to be so little for very long.
Monday, January 28, 2008
Monday, January 21, 2008
And the propaganda begins...
As you may know, we are working on potty-training. Lord, give me strength. Anyway, part and parcel with potty-training is learning body parts...and the inherent differences between boys and girls. While I had taught the kid the tagalog words for body parts, including female and male genitalia, the tagalog words for penis and vagina are strikingly similar. So, I have, of late, taught him the words in english.
Tonight as the kid was yammering on about this thing and that (remember, age two = verbal explosion), he turns to me and says, "Mommy - a vagina! (the kid) - a penis! Daddy - a penis!" Well, he got it all correct, so I acknowledge and congratulate with a hearty, "Yes, honey! That's right! Very GOOD!" Then he pauses for a minute and looks up at me in almost a half-whisper, "Mommy, Daddy's is a BIG penis."
I was rolling my eyes so hard they almost got stuck backwards in their sockets. M needs reinforcement from a 2-year-old, apparently.
Tonight as the kid was yammering on about this thing and that (remember, age two = verbal explosion), he turns to me and says, "Mommy - a vagina! (the kid) - a penis! Daddy - a penis!" Well, he got it all correct, so I acknowledge and congratulate with a hearty, "Yes, honey! That's right! Very GOOD!" Then he pauses for a minute and looks up at me in almost a half-whisper, "Mommy, Daddy's is a BIG penis."
I was rolling my eyes so hard they almost got stuck backwards in their sockets. M needs reinforcement from a 2-year-old, apparently.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
From the mouths of babes - part dos
Ok, so as you know, the kid is totally obsessed with the "It's a Small World" ride at Disneyland. Well, as he watches the YouTube version over and over again, he likes to click on the "related videos" on the side of the video he's watching. Yes, my 2 1/2 year old knows how to use the computer mouse, totally understands the "point-and-click" to get what he wants. You know what? I barely had to teach him. Honestly, I think I showed him only once or twice. It's amazing what they can learn when it something that can get them what THEY want. Seriously, you'd think it would be this easy with potty-training. But I digress.
Anyway, so the kid is pointing and clicking at various related videos and some come up that aren't very good quality. Like the picture is grainy and the sound is splotchy. So as he's clicking around and viewing the poor-quality clips, I hear him exclaim, "This Small World sucks!" Goodness. Should I be proud, at least, that he used the word, "sucks" in its correct context?
Anyway, so the kid is pointing and clicking at various related videos and some come up that aren't very good quality. Like the picture is grainy and the sound is splotchy. So as he's clicking around and viewing the poor-quality clips, I hear him exclaim, "This Small World sucks!" Goodness. Should I be proud, at least, that he used the word, "sucks" in its correct context?
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
I wish...
I wish:
1) that I were taller
2) that I was wittier...or smarter than I actually am
3) that bacon had the nutritional properties of spinach and broccoli
4) that I had an iPod adaptor in my car so I wouldn't have to listen to "Hella Good" by Gwen Stefani umpteen times over during the drive to work/daycare and back home again
5) that laundry would do itself
6) life could be managed without stress and with more sleep
But, I'm happy that:
1) at 32, I still have a small, yet perky a$$.
2) that colleagues, friends and family think I AM wittier and smarter than I actually am
3) that my kid WILL eat broccoli (although he prefers bacon - hey, he's human, right?)
4) that I am listening to "Hella Good"by Gwen Stefani instead of "Fruit Salad" by the Wiggles
5) housecleaners come to "reset" my house every other week
6) I am still sane...and that I'm genuinely happy.
1) that I were taller
2) that I was wittier...or smarter than I actually am
3) that bacon had the nutritional properties of spinach and broccoli
4) that I had an iPod adaptor in my car so I wouldn't have to listen to "Hella Good" by Gwen Stefani umpteen times over during the drive to work/daycare and back home again
5) that laundry would do itself
6) life could be managed without stress and with more sleep
But, I'm happy that:
1) at 32, I still have a small, yet perky a$$.
2) that colleagues, friends and family think I AM wittier and smarter than I actually am
3) that my kid WILL eat broccoli (although he prefers bacon - hey, he's human, right?)
4) that I am listening to "Hella Good"by Gwen Stefani instead of "Fruit Salad" by the Wiggles
5) housecleaners come to "reset" my house every other week
6) I am still sane...and that I'm genuinely happy.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Mama told me there'd be days like this...
because apparently, I wasn't such a well-behaved child either. Last night, when we got home from work/daycare, the kid was in top form. I mean, we simply walked in the door and he started throwing some attitude. First, he demands to go upstairs and play with his computer and, before going up the stairs, proceeds to overturn 2 baskets of clean laundry on the living room floor. When I asked him to pick up the clothes, he screamed, "NO!" and starts to head up the stairs. No sooner do I tell him he must pick up the clothes before he plays on his computer does the kid go into full-on tantrum mode. Ok. I wait. He's done. He then picks up said clothes. But this is only the beginning of the evening.
I'll spare you the gory details, but in a nutshell, the next hour and a half was filled with at least 2 more tantrums, more demands (from the kid, not from me), some pushing and hitting (again, originated from the kid, NOT from me), and at least one time out. I mean, I knew that 2 years old was going to be tough, but MY GOD will I survive? Then, M called on his way home from work to tell me he'd be home in about 20 minutes and it was like the skies parted and heaven shone upon me. At the time I was making dinner and getting it ready to put it in front of the kid, thinking, "Thank God - when M gets home, he can feed the kid and I'm going upstairs to lay down."
Well, as I'm putting together the kid's dinner and telling him to get to the table, he runs into the kitchen and sees his dinner. He raises his hands and starts clapping, exclaiming, "Good JOB, Mommy!" Then he sits at the table and I sit next to him. He leans over and looks up at me with those big, baby brown eyes and says, "Mommy pretty - I lub you mommy!" And my heart melts.
So even on days like this, it's TOTALLY worth it.
I'll spare you the gory details, but in a nutshell, the next hour and a half was filled with at least 2 more tantrums, more demands (from the kid, not from me), some pushing and hitting (again, originated from the kid, NOT from me), and at least one time out. I mean, I knew that 2 years old was going to be tough, but MY GOD will I survive? Then, M called on his way home from work to tell me he'd be home in about 20 minutes and it was like the skies parted and heaven shone upon me. At the time I was making dinner and getting it ready to put it in front of the kid, thinking, "Thank God - when M gets home, he can feed the kid and I'm going upstairs to lay down."
Well, as I'm putting together the kid's dinner and telling him to get to the table, he runs into the kitchen and sees his dinner. He raises his hands and starts clapping, exclaiming, "Good JOB, Mommy!" Then he sits at the table and I sit next to him. He leans over and looks up at me with those big, baby brown eyes and says, "Mommy pretty - I lub you mommy!" And my heart melts.
So even on days like this, it's TOTALLY worth it.
Friday, January 11, 2008
Breaking Down Barriers
I love my husband. I do. I truly love him. For all the complaining I do about him, I know there is no one else in this world who I could share my life with so completely, so honestly, and exhaustively. Don't get me wrong, the man does drive me crazy more often that not, but how boring would it be if he didn't? But you know what? He gets me. He gets us. And that's REALLY special.
We definitely have our differences. Actually, we've got many. First and most noticible, we are a mixed-race family. I am Filipino and M is Caucasian. We grew up in different ethnicities, different cultures, different traditions. Now, we both grew up in Southern California, so while there are a lot of similarities, there are still just as many differences. When we first got married I explained to M my feelings on a bi-racial family. Truth of the matter is, Southern California is host to many, many different ethnicities, and, for the most part, I've always had a very diverse group of friends, even growing up. M did too. Because of the diversity of the area in which we live, I will say that I've never experienced outright acts of bigotry or discrimination, at least against me. Thankfully. But don't for a minute think that I'm not completely and consciously aware that I am different. That I come from a different background and culture. That's not a good or bad thing. It's nothing that hangs over my head or anything. It's just there. It's just a fact.
So I tried my best to explain this feeling of "different" to M. God bless him, he tried his best to understand, but without living it or feeling it in your heart, he and I both knew he wasn't really "getting" it. But my purpose in explaining this to him was so that he would know that his own children would feel this way. At least sometimes. And maybe more acutely because they would be bi-racial. Who knows...I am not bi-racial so I don't understand how that might feel. But M needed to know that even in a diverse society these issues are out there. It's easy to ignore them or live your life thinking/believing that they aren't there. I guess I was just trying to raise awareness.
M means so much to me because he embraces our differences. He embraces and loves that we come from different backgrounds. Even more important, he embraces the significance of raising children with the knowledge and appreciation of their heritage and cultural background. M supports and is excited that I try to speak to the kid in Tagalog...that I am adamant about my children being multi-lingual. He loves to try new and foreign things, in fact, he's more brave about it than I am.
Anyway, the reason I bring this up is because M told me the other night he was watching Oprah (and I'm sure he's going to KILL me for blabbing to the internet community that my husband watches Oprah - sorry babe) and an especially moving piece came on. It was called Breaking Down Barriers and it was an in-depth look at a "typical" American High School. What it revealed was underlying racial and class tension that you wouldn't automatically assume was there. But it was...and this high school accepted a challenge to attempt to create a more unified community. The episode touched something in M. He told me that now he felt he understood what I was talking about when I explained the "awareness". And he felt it because he understood that one day, almost certainly, he would have to deal with someone saying something or doing something or judging his kid not because of his character, not because of his personality, but because of his looks. Because of the color of his skin or the slant of his eyes. And that broke his heart.
I love that I share my life with someone who has the ability to open his mind and heart to let this stuff in. I love that I am raising my family with a man who will teach his children to do the same. I can be an awesome mother...I can try and give my children everything they need and want. But I cannot teach my son to be a man. Thankfully, he has one of the best examples I've ever met.
We definitely have our differences. Actually, we've got many. First and most noticible, we are a mixed-race family. I am Filipino and M is Caucasian. We grew up in different ethnicities, different cultures, different traditions. Now, we both grew up in Southern California, so while there are a lot of similarities, there are still just as many differences. When we first got married I explained to M my feelings on a bi-racial family. Truth of the matter is, Southern California is host to many, many different ethnicities, and, for the most part, I've always had a very diverse group of friends, even growing up. M did too. Because of the diversity of the area in which we live, I will say that I've never experienced outright acts of bigotry or discrimination, at least against me. Thankfully. But don't for a minute think that I'm not completely and consciously aware that I am different. That I come from a different background and culture. That's not a good or bad thing. It's nothing that hangs over my head or anything. It's just there. It's just a fact.
So I tried my best to explain this feeling of "different" to M. God bless him, he tried his best to understand, but without living it or feeling it in your heart, he and I both knew he wasn't really "getting" it. But my purpose in explaining this to him was so that he would know that his own children would feel this way. At least sometimes. And maybe more acutely because they would be bi-racial. Who knows...I am not bi-racial so I don't understand how that might feel. But M needed to know that even in a diverse society these issues are out there. It's easy to ignore them or live your life thinking/believing that they aren't there. I guess I was just trying to raise awareness.
M means so much to me because he embraces our differences. He embraces and loves that we come from different backgrounds. Even more important, he embraces the significance of raising children with the knowledge and appreciation of their heritage and cultural background. M supports and is excited that I try to speak to the kid in Tagalog...that I am adamant about my children being multi-lingual. He loves to try new and foreign things, in fact, he's more brave about it than I am.
Anyway, the reason I bring this up is because M told me the other night he was watching Oprah (and I'm sure he's going to KILL me for blabbing to the internet community that my husband watches Oprah - sorry babe) and an especially moving piece came on. It was called Breaking Down Barriers and it was an in-depth look at a "typical" American High School. What it revealed was underlying racial and class tension that you wouldn't automatically assume was there. But it was...and this high school accepted a challenge to attempt to create a more unified community. The episode touched something in M. He told me that now he felt he understood what I was talking about when I explained the "awareness". And he felt it because he understood that one day, almost certainly, he would have to deal with someone saying something or doing something or judging his kid not because of his character, not because of his personality, but because of his looks. Because of the color of his skin or the slant of his eyes. And that broke his heart.
I love that I share my life with someone who has the ability to open his mind and heart to let this stuff in. I love that I am raising my family with a man who will teach his children to do the same. I can be an awesome mother...I can try and give my children everything they need and want. But I cannot teach my son to be a man. Thankfully, he has one of the best examples I've ever met.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
It's A Small World
So the kid is recently obsessed with "It's a Small World", the ride at Disneyland. And I mean OBSESSED. To the point where he is singing the damn song every 5 minutes. Like belting it out at the top of his lungs. The other morning, M and I woke to "It's a Small World" at a volume that would have the neighbors calling to complain at 6:00AM. The kid has the vocal volume of Whitney Houston. No need for a microphone.
His grandparents took him on a trip to Disneyland last week. He forced them to ride the attraction FIVE times. Then, when they tried to leave, he cried. He threw a tantrum. A tantrum of proportions so big that a cast member came over and made him an "honorary citizen of Disneyland" just to shut him up. Good thing mama wasn't there.
Want to know how far the obsession goes? I happened to stumble upon this video on YouTube. Thank you ru42 who shot it. The kid watches this on the computer practically 10 times a day. It allows me to take a shower and do some dishes. God bless YouTube. When it starts, he pumps his fists in the air and declares, "Go Small World! Go Small World!" Then he goes on to sing along...the WHOLE time.
Distressing news, though. Apparently the Small World ride at Disneyland is in need of some serious rehab. Figures. It's an old ride and the boats scrape along the bottom. So, starting January 17, it goes down for rehab and doesn't reopen UNTIL NOVEMBER. Crapity crap crap. Looks like no more Disneyland visits until December, 2008.
His grandparents took him on a trip to Disneyland last week. He forced them to ride the attraction FIVE times. Then, when they tried to leave, he cried. He threw a tantrum. A tantrum of proportions so big that a cast member came over and made him an "honorary citizen of Disneyland" just to shut him up. Good thing mama wasn't there.
Want to know how far the obsession goes? I happened to stumble upon this video on YouTube. Thank you ru42 who shot it. The kid watches this on the computer practically 10 times a day. It allows me to take a shower and do some dishes. God bless YouTube. When it starts, he pumps his fists in the air and declares, "Go Small World! Go Small World!" Then he goes on to sing along...the WHOLE time.
Distressing news, though. Apparently the Small World ride at Disneyland is in need of some serious rehab. Figures. It's an old ride and the boats scrape along the bottom. So, starting January 17, it goes down for rehab and doesn't reopen UNTIL NOVEMBER. Crapity crap crap. Looks like no more Disneyland visits until December, 2008.
I am a derelict blogger
There. I've admitted it. I haven't blogged in almost a month. To my one fan out there who checks my blog, my sincere apologies.
The holidays are tough. My work schedule allows me to take about a week and a half off around the holidays due to campus closure, but honestly, those are the days that are the most hectic and stressful of the entire year! I do love the holidays, but I have to say, they take a toll on you. I couldn't wait to get back to work - if only to relax from my "vacation."
As if we didn't have enough going on over the past couple of weeks, we dipped our toes into the potty-training arena. It did not go well. And at this point, I'm perfectly ok with sending the kid to kindergarten in diapers. I had these grandiose ideas of going cold turkey and believing that the kid would be potty trained in 3 days. What in the hell was I smoking? Idealistic thoughts of a first-time parent.
So now we are back to work, the kid is back in daycare, and we are settling back into our routine. Thank the stars. I gotta say, I am definitely a routine person. I know that doesn't sound sexy...in fact, it makes me sound boring and fuddy-duddy. But I don't care. I love my routine. It keeps me going...let's me know that something is getting done. Less stressful than being on a so-called "vacation." To me, vacation equals chaos...and mama no likey.
I will attempt, in this new year (I don't do resolutions) to keep up with the blogging. To come out of the land of neglect. And, for my one fan, some pictures from the holiday season...please enjoy.
Every year on Christmas Eve morn, we head to Laguna Beach. We usually have a nice breakfast and take pictures on the beach. This year, however, we got a late start and ended up just having a late lunch. But here are some pictures:
This is cheesy, but I love it. Every year, we take a picture of the kid next to this miniature tree. I just like to see him grow every year. Please pay no attention to the "I might be constipated" smile on his face...when you ask the kid to smile this is what you get:
Building sand castles with mommy:
The tree and all the presents on Christmas morn:
Parking garage from Plan Toys - highly recommended! And a new bike!
and finally...the family shot:
The holidays are tough. My work schedule allows me to take about a week and a half off around the holidays due to campus closure, but honestly, those are the days that are the most hectic and stressful of the entire year! I do love the holidays, but I have to say, they take a toll on you. I couldn't wait to get back to work - if only to relax from my "vacation."
As if we didn't have enough going on over the past couple of weeks, we dipped our toes into the potty-training arena. It did not go well. And at this point, I'm perfectly ok with sending the kid to kindergarten in diapers. I had these grandiose ideas of going cold turkey and believing that the kid would be potty trained in 3 days. What in the hell was I smoking? Idealistic thoughts of a first-time parent.
So now we are back to work, the kid is back in daycare, and we are settling back into our routine. Thank the stars. I gotta say, I am definitely a routine person. I know that doesn't sound sexy...in fact, it makes me sound boring and fuddy-duddy. But I don't care. I love my routine. It keeps me going...let's me know that something is getting done. Less stressful than being on a so-called "vacation." To me, vacation equals chaos...and mama no likey.
I will attempt, in this new year (I don't do resolutions) to keep up with the blogging. To come out of the land of neglect. And, for my one fan, some pictures from the holiday season...please enjoy.
Every year on Christmas Eve morn, we head to Laguna Beach. We usually have a nice breakfast and take pictures on the beach. This year, however, we got a late start and ended up just having a late lunch. But here are some pictures:
This is cheesy, but I love it. Every year, we take a picture of the kid next to this miniature tree. I just like to see him grow every year. Please pay no attention to the "I might be constipated" smile on his face...when you ask the kid to smile this is what you get:
Building sand castles with mommy:
The tree and all the presents on Christmas morn:
Parking garage from Plan Toys - highly recommended! And a new bike!
and finally...the family shot:
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