Supa Tuesday

I'm excited. We are living in an amazing and exiting time. For the first time in the history of the United States of America, there will be either a woman or a black man in a VERY good position to become the next President. Either a woman or a black man will be the democratic party's nomination for President of the United States of America. I honestly never thought I would see this in my lifetime. Years ago, even before I had children, I had hoped that my children would see it happen in their lifetime, but I wasn't too optimistic. Call me cynical.

But it's happening, it's really happening. And I feel proud. Not because of any of my own efforts, I'm not necessarily proud of me, but I'm proud of this country. I'm proud that there are enough Americans out there who can plow through all the bull$hit that's out there and stand up for what they believe in - stand up for change and have their voices heard. I'm proud that I can tell and give real-life examples to the kid that tell him, when it comes down to it, that while gender and race may make it harder/easier to achieve whatever your goals may be, they certainly don't automatically qualify/disqualify you from them. That's seriously cool.

I actually voted in California's early voting two weeks ago. They had polling places set up around the county and they were open for about a week. Conveniently, they set one up right at the University where I work. Thank goodness because the last time I tried to vote with a toddler in tow...well, let's just say I didn't (not that I didn't do vote, I just drove back and forth to my polling place/daycare so that I could vote without a 2 year old pulling on my legs and trying to press all the buttons himself.)

So I placed my vote for my man Barack. LOVE me some Barack Obama. Would LOVE this country to have a President Obama. Now, truth be told, I did feel a twinge of guilt about not voting for a woman. I almost felt like I'd betrayed my ideals as a feminist. But at the heart of feminism is freedom and equality, right? The freedom to make those choices regardless of your gender? Well, then, my choice was for Obama. Of course, I will still be elated should Hilary win the nomination, they are, in my opinion, close in position on many of the issues most important to me. Should Hilary win the nomination my complete rally of support will definitely go to her. But there is just something about the way Barack speaks. He's got a way about him...a way to move people...a way that Hilary just doesn't have. I actually find Hilary to be more divisive than Barack. So my rally cry is Obama '08. Spread the word, friends. It's supa tuesday.

What fun! I've been tagged!

Ok, I'm a little giddy. Like the dorky non-athlete who never gets picked and is suddenly picked. I've been tagged for a fun blogging game from my wonderfully witty Mama friend. So here goes. I'm a newbie in the blogging universe, so I hope I get this right.

The rules:

1) Link to the person that tagged you.
2) Post the rules on your blog.
3) Share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself.
4) Tag at least three people at the end of your post and link to their blogs.
5) Let each person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.
6) Let the fun begin!

And here are my answers:

1) I have an unnatural fear of birds. Seriously, it's almost paralyzing. And I've never even seen Alfred Hitchcock's movie, "The Birds". Doing so may cause me to seizure. Birds just freak me out. The thought of one in my hand, flittering and fluttering around is completely horrifying. When M and I were looking for houses, we went to an open house of what would have been the perfect home for us. Single story, large backyard (unheard of in these parts), 3 bedrooms and in a perfect neighborhood. Well, as we toured the home, I stroll into the master bedroom, liking everything I see. Then I face M, who is standing there stone-faced. He tells me, "Ok, don't freak out, but turn around slowly". I follow directions and come face-to-face with two parrots sitting on a perch. NOT IN A CAGE. Just out in the open like that. Of course, I freak and RUN out of the house. Seriously, who the hell leaves birds out in the open like that when they are holding an open house!?!?!? Anyway, needless to say, I couldn't face buying that house. No matter how perfect. Oh...and don't even get me started about the time an ostrich (YES, A FREAKIN' OSTRICH!) tried to kill me on the Kilimanjaro Safari ride at Walt Disney World.

2) I hate the rain. I do, and boy do I feel guilty about it in drought-stricken Southern California. I know we need it, I know it's so beneficial, but I hate it when it rains.

3) I can't live without carne asada tacos. I have to have them. They are an addiction. And they have to be made from GOOD carne asada. Not like the "steak taco" knockoffs you get at chains like Chipotle. That stuff's crap. I want it grilled in manteca, marinated for hours, and served in a fat-laden tortilla. You can't get that outside of Southern California. It's one of the main reasons M and I never moved out of state. I kid you not. We're that shallow.

4) I love hot showers. LOVE LOVE LOVE them. I take two a day. I know it's wasteful use of precious resources (see previous reference about drought-stricken California) and my skin is dry as a lizard because of it, but they feel good. So sue me.

5) My eyelids crease funny. Well, one does. My right eyelid has a typical fold. The single fold like people of non-asian descent (even though I am asian) . But my left eyelid has a triple fold. Like it doesn't crease in just one place. I think it makes my eyes look lopsided, but anyone who I've ever pointed it out to insists they cannot tell. Maybe it's just me. We are, after all, our own worst critics at times.

6) My right foot is ever so slightly larger than my left. And my big toe on my right foot protrudes upward moreso than the left. Hence, I've got a tiny hole in my right Ugg boot. Makes me sad...I love my Ugg boots.

Ok, so there are six quirky things about me. Took me longer than I expected to come up with them. For my first time, I hope I did ok! Anyway, I'm supposed to tag three others, but again, as a newbie to blogging, I don't have that many friends who are blogging. Well, not any that might have already been tagged. But, I'm a stickler for rules, so here goes:

Tagging now: Maureen - seeing if I can get her in before her lenten deadline, Ann - because you know, she doesn't have enough to do with 3 kids (one a newborn), and Joyce - but I'm sure she's done this before (sorry mama, I ran out of blogs - LOL!)

Bittersweet...

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.

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.

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?

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.

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.