Things I Do Because I Have Kids

There are many of things I no longer do, since becoming a mother. Sleep late, go out to the movies, take the dog on many-mile hikes, skip dinner, spend all afternoon reading a good book, etc.

But there are a number of (enjoyable) things I suddenly find myself doing because I have kids:

Going to the beach.

Using the public library.

Going out for ice cream. Frequently.

Picking blueberries.

Selecting a hotel because it has a pool. And then using the pool.

Coloring.

Going to county fairs.

Re-watching great movies like Shrek and Toy Story.

Singing. Wherever, whenever.

Dancing. Usually in the living room.

Attending local events -- tree lightings, outdoor concerts, apple festivals, etc.

Playing hide-n-seek.

Drawing on the driveway with chalk.

Swinging. Sliding. Playing.

Sparkle and Ash

I find myself the mother of a little boy whose favorite color is pink, who is undeniably drawn to anything that sparkles or shimmers, and who always wants to be Princess Fiona when we "play Shrek".

This same little boy is also just discovering the concepts of fighting and violence. Every other sentence out of his mouth seems to be about fighting. "These dinosaurs are fighting" "Quynh and I were just fighting" "Let's play fighting -- it might be a little violent, OK Mama?" Maybe he only says all that to Push My Buttons, because he's also started using rude words* just to get a rise out of me.

Today at the mall he wanted me to buy him three pieces of "back to school" clothing -- (1) a pink t-shirt covered in glittery peace signs, (2) a pink and grey shirt with a sparkly princess crown on the front, and (3) Fire Chief rain boots (to go with his fire fighter t-shirt and fire fighter rain jacket). Not that women can't be firefighters. And not that male firefighters can't wear pink glitter under their gear.....just sayin'.

I bought him all three pieces.

He seems to be right in the midst of figuring all this stuff out on his own, I just hope he doesn't learn the societal norms via a mean kid at school the day he decides to wear his princess shirt. Perhaps pairing it with the fire fighter boots will turn it from Girly to Avant Garde in a very Project Runway type of way.





*His knowledge of rude words/phrases currenlty consists of "stupid," "hate," and "you're disgusting."

Maine Bullets

• Quynh The Climber delighted in crawling all over the rocky shore and in and out of stinky tide pools for about an hour one evening. Braver than her brother, she'd reach right into the tide pool and pluck out periwinkles with those chubby little fists of hers.

• Speaking of periwinkles, Tai only picked up the empty periwinkle shells, sitting on the dry rocks. When it was time for dinner (lobster shack on the water's edge) he handed them to me and I shoved them in my pocket. Hours later, back at the hotel, I tossed them on the desk and realized that they were NOT empty shells and NOT even dead. We watched them crawl around the desk a bit and then "sent them home" via the toilet.

• For Tai, "vacation" means juice with every meal. It's even better than chocolate milk, apparently. At each meal he'd ask the wait staff to list the juice options and it seemed like he picked a different one every time. We got to one place and all they had was cranberry juice. He gave the waitress a look like, 'Well, if that's all you've got, I guess I'll take it."

• We learned many things while in Maine, including the fact that a single order of mussels in white wine and butter sauce satisfies both our kids, but only if Minh and I don't expect to eat any.

• Tai became much more outgoing around strangers during this trip. Not sure why, but we're thankful. One night in a very empty restaurant Minh and I were able to finish our meal while Tai went and drank cranberry juice at the bar, chatting with the staff and patrons alike. Of course, when I joined him 10 minutes later, I caught him admitting to liking the Yankees as well as the Red Sox--very dangerous thing to say in Maine, even for a 3-year-old.

• Tai's newfound independence made a trip to the Portland Children's Museum both easier and harder. Minh was working, so I had to keep track of both kids myself. Luckily, I could drop Q in the fenced-in "toddler area" and stand nearby while Tai visited each exhibit on his own. It was so great to have a break from "Mama, look! Mama, come here! Mama, come play with me!" He was so bold, however, that I lost track of him a couple times.

• Quynh can now do spot-on impressions of a fog horn and a train whistle.

• Each night in Maine, we put the kids to bed at the same time (7:30 -- late for Q and early for Tai). We'd turn off the lights and Minh and I would lay down and pretend to sleep too. Once the kids were snoring, we'd sneak out of bed and stay up a couple more hours. Except that one night when we both feel soundly asleep. At 7:30pm. Vacation=exhausting.

Duck Boat Trauma

Non-refundable Duck Boat tickets seemed like a good idea a month ahead of time, but not during the fit Tai threw on the street corner when he decided he was terrified of any contraption that started out on land and then drove into the water. It started as little whimpers and the question, "Will you protect me?" as we neared the stairs leading up to the boat. I promised to protect him and hold him tight, but to no avail. Soon we were experiencing a full blown Freak Out with tears and yelling. We tried calming him, reassuring him, bribing him (with a bravery Milky Way). Nothing worked. Smart kid, he even tried to bargain through his tears. "Can Daddy take Quynh (sniff sniff) on the boat and Mama can (sniff sniff) take me to buy the Milky Bar (sniff)?"

After he calmed a bit, we asked the Duck Boat Captain several questions and received the "right" answers. But Tai decided it was still too scary, and was particularly horrified that there were no seat belts. Makes me wonder.....how on Earth are you supposed to teach your kid about safety and the importance of things like seat belts and NOT turn them into neurotic Scaredy Cats?


Incidentally, the conversation with the Duck Boat Captain went like this:

K: "Is it fast and scary or slow?"

Captain: "Painfully slow and boring."

K: "Is there a big bump and huge splash when it goes in the water?"

Captain: "No, it's slow and gentle."

K: "Is it safe?"

Captain: "Yes. See that sticker over there? We got an award for safety blah blah"

K: "See Tai? They got an award because it's soooo safe and so fun."

Captain: "I didn't say it was fun."


Now there's a man who loves his job.

Wait 'Till He Tells The Kids at School About This One.

Although Tai is a typical pre-schooler when it comes to avoiding all green food, we are fortunate that he's not terribly picky and is not easily freaked out. He likes to try new things as long as they are protein. And he has a love of seafood that includes scallops, shrimp, crab, and lobster. On our recent trip to Maine, Tai devoured nearly an entire order of mussels and picked all the big chunks of lobster out of Minh's lobster roll.

So when it was time for the last dinner of the trip and we found ourselves at a restaurant that offered a kids meal of a whole (small) lobster and fries, we decided to go for it. Not wanting to waste money, we checked with him first. He was very excited about the idea of having a whole lobster on his plate.

Now, Tai knows full well what a whole lobster looks like. We often visit them in the tank at the supermarket. And he knows that they are in the tank so people can buy them, take them home, and cook them. This does not bother him, thankfully.

So Minh and I were not prepared for Tai's expression of confusion mixed with just a bit of horror when his meal arrived. Sadly, we didn't get a picture of that first moment, but we did capture his exclamation that, "They didn't take the legs off!" At first I wondered why he was so confused, when we told him it would be a whole lobster. But then I remembered that he's seen whole cooked turkeys and they look nothing like live turkeys. Same deal with chickens and ducks, right?


After the initial shock, he was eager to learn from his daddy how to pull the legs off and suck the meat out, crack open the claws, and dig out the tail meat. He proudly wore the bib, used the tiny plastic fork, and asked lots of questions. "What do we do with the eyes?" "What about the head?"

In the end, he ate about 2/3 of his little lobster and enjoyed every bite. He did so well that we got him a dessert too. Three bites into it I asked how it was and he said, "Mama, it's so good, I can't even tell you!" It was a fantastic end to a fun but exhausting trip.

You're HOW Old??

I just had this conversation with someone in my office:

Her: I just can't get into The Wire. The first couple episodes were boring, and it feels kind of....old.

Me: It's not that old. It premiered in 2002.

Her: Yeah, when I was 12.