Sometimes It's Like My Kids Are People

Tai has been interested in selecting his own outfits for quite sometime now. And he certainly has specific ideas about what he likes. He tends to choose bright colors and shirts with pictures on them, and has a fierce preference for pants with elastic waists. This past weekend he went to a birthday party and carefully selected his outfit 2 days in advance -- running pants, a bright yellow t-shirt featuring colorful lizards, and black-and-yellow arm-warmers, which are actually baby leg-warmers. (Whereas I would have put him in dark-wash jeans and a neutral shirt, or perhaps a sweater).

Well, now Quynh is starting to voice her fashion preferences too. Sometimes I think it's just her way of asserting her independence for no good reason. Occasionally I pull a pair of pants out of her drawer in the morning and she yells, "noooooo!" And if I grab another pair of pants out of the drawer and she'll often say "noooo!" and then go for the first pair I picked.

Then the other day at Costco, I was perusing the feety pajamas (because I have a documented weakness for feeties). I selected some adorable, gender-neutral, red pajamas with little brown doggies all over them and handed them to Quynh. Then I pushed the cart around the other side of the pajama display, just to see if there might be another pair we should get (seriously, I have a pajama addiction) and Quynh spotted the pair she wanted.

She thrust the red doggy pair back and me and leaned as far out of the cart as she could, toward the PJ display, reaching for the pair she wanted and saying "eh! eh! kitty! kiiiiiiitty!" My daughter had her heart set on pastel pink leopard-print pajamas, with kitties on the feet. Oh man, of the 17 designs available these were *way* down on the list of what I thought was cute. I feebly tried again to sell her on the dog ones, but she had her heart set on the kitties. As the cashier rang them up, I rationalized that it's only pajamas and no one will see them. But I fear this is only the beginning of the end of my ability to dress her however I please.

Class Clown

We had our first pre-school parent-teacher conference last week and Tai's report was remarkably consistent with the past 6 conferences we've had since he started "school" at the age of 8 months.

We've conferred with four different teachers about Tai and they all tend to use the same types of adjectives to describe my boy. It goes something like this:

Intelligent

Articulate

Perceptive

Observant

Considerate

Kind

Loquacious

Gregarious

During one of our first conferences, back when Tai was about 10 months old, we were told that he and another baby could not be seated near each other at lunch because they would get too silly. Tai would purposely throw food on the floor and his friend would laugh hysterically and then throw some of her food on the floor. This would please Tai and he would then fling some more food off his tray.

(Those of you who know Tai and his circle of friends undoubtedly know the identity of his partner in crime.)

During the next two years we received similar reports from the toddler teachers. Our first indication that Tai requires an audience should have been when the teacher pulled up the slide show of pictures and explained that she searched and searched but could not find a single photo of Tai playing alone.

We were then told that Tai needed to work on "letting other children have a turn to speak at lunchtime" and that the toddler room had instituted a going-around-the-table system for taking turns sharing stories at lunch. Each time a child started in with their story a teacher had to remind Tai not to interject.

So now he's a preschooler. Not the oldest, or the most popular, but he still enjoys a loyal following. He told me that he sits with the same crew each day and lunch including -- you guessed it -- his old partner in food-throwing from the baby room. What he neglected to tell us was that he sometimes has to be separated from his audience in order to settle down, stay seated, and actually eat.

We were asked at this most recent parent-teacher conference, "What is mealtime like at home?" because they were trying to figure out if he's as silly and fidgety for us as he is for them.

The answer is yes.

Although Minh and I are now officially "over" Tai's sense of humor and do our best not to encourage his mealtime antics, his sister (unfortunately) thinks he's hilarious. Tai's shenanigans elicit deep belly laughs from Quynh and requests for "more! more!" She's also taken to imitating his physical comedy routine, whether that means balancing your cup on your head or pushing your chair away from the table mid-meal.

We are in trouble.

If You Wait Long Enough....

....Things actually will come back in fashion.

I never really thought that would happen to anything in my closet, but it has. And I'm not even talking about the Skinny Jeans with the zippers on the ankles (damn, I threw mine away in 1991). I'm talking about Converse All Stars.

The other day my office's 20 year old student worker came in wearing a shiny new pair of converse low tops and engaged in a conversation with a similarly young co-worker about said shoes. I found myself shocked that The Kids These Days are wearing the same sneakers I wore all through high school and into college. Whaddaya know.

So I fessed up to still owning two pairs of high tops and a pair of plaid low tops. They've been in my closet for.....oh....17 years or so. I have no idea why I never threw them away, even though I had no intention of ever wearing them again--probably due to my sentimental attachment to them. And now my hoarding has paid off and I'm back in style, having worn my plaid sneaks to work, and really stretched the definition of Casual Friday.

And this morning, while dropping Tai off at school, I noticed that one of the work-study students in the pre-school room was also wearing low-top converse all stars. Based on this, I'm now certain that I am either (a) totally hip and cool or (b) dressed inappropriately for my age and making a fool of myself.

Don't Forget to Vacuum!

Tai is so excited for his playdate tomorrow that he was eager to clean up the house this evening. He stated immediately after dinner, "I'll push in the chairs and make everything nice and neat. You (Mama) clean the table."

"OK," I said.

"Oh! And don't forget to vacuum!"

Sadly, he's come to think that the only reason to clean the house is having guests. Not too long ago he found me cleaning up and asked, "Who's coming over?" When I said, "No one" he was perplexed. He also occasionally asks, "Why are you vacuuming for so-and-so? Are they allergic to animals?"

Well, That Never Happens

It's very rare in parenting (actually in Life) for me to make a decision and then realize that it was the *correct* decision. Although I spent a full week worrying that my enrolling Tai in the next level of swim lessons was going to be the Biggest Mistake Ever, it turned out to be a Fantastic Parenting Move.

We had no tears or anxiety on the way to swim class, though he did remember (and remind me of) his plan to simply sit on the edge and put his feet in. I said that was perfectly fine, but if he did decide to go in, I'd buy him anything he wanted out of the snack machine in the lobby of the YMCA. And I made sure that while we were checking in he perused the contents of said machine and picked out what he would get, if he went in the pool.

Apparently the promise of a 60-cent bag of Goldfish crackers goes a long way.

He made sure I told his teacher that he was feeling nervous and might just want to sit on the edge. She said that was perfectly fine with her, took him firmly by the hand, and led him over to the edge of the pool. He was already comfortable with this teacher, as she was the same one who taught Pike and Parent. I took my place on the bleachers.

Of the 5 kids she had lined up on the wall, Tai was the last one to get in the pool, but he did get in. And the next thing I knew, he was literally on the teacher's back, with his arms around her neck like a baby chimp. She taught the first 10 minutes of the class with an extra 30 lbs on her back!

And soon enough he was comfortable hanging onto the the wall, awaiting his turn to do whatever activity was next. Before the 30 minute class was over, he had jumped into the deep end and even tried a sitting dive -- both firsts for him. I was so proud I nearly cried.

Nudge....Nudge....Splash

Last week was the final Pike and Parent swim class. Although Tai displayed some amazing bravery early on in the class, the last few weeks he has been insisting that I hold onto him because he is, "afraid I'm going to sink." Not sure where that's coming from.

He's also been expressing anxiety over the idea of moving on to the Pike/Eel class, which would require him to go into the pool without me. At first I was horrified at the thought of having to force him to do something that scares him, and potentially cause him to fear swimming altogether. I told him we'd talk about it and decide later which class to sign up for, mentally resigning myself to 6 more weeks of having to remember to shave my legs for Freakin' Swim Class.

But then the more I thought about it, the more I wondered if this might be the time to push him beyond his comfort zone. And the more I thought about the fact that the Pike and Parent class is only offered at one seriously inconvenient time slot, the more I convinced myself the right thing to do was to sign him up for the next level.

So I did. Behind his back.

Last week as we were leaving, he overheard talk of the time slot change for next week and started crying and pleading with me. "Mama, I don't want the class without the parents! Don't make that plan! That's not my decision!"

Needless to say, I felt horrible for having gone behind his back and signed him up for something I knew he was afraid to try. I tried to say, "Oh, let's not worry about that until next week." But he insisted we have it out, right there in the parking lot of the YMCA. So we talked it through and we've made a plan.

This Saturday I will not be going in the pool. But he might not either. He's agreed to sit on the edge and put his feet in and consider going in, if he feels comfortable. If not, I told him he can just watch for the first week and then go in the second week. To which he replied, "Or maybe after 3, or 4, or 5 weeks." Smart kid.

Will this be the right path? Is this just the little extra nudge he needs to feel more confident? Or will this destroy his self-esteem, make him question his trust for his mother, and instill in him a fear of water? I guess we'll wait and see.....

My Kid is Cute, and Weird

I had this conversation with Tai this morning:

T: When do we get to go trick or treating again?

K: Not until next Halloween.

T: Next year?

K: Yes, you’ll be four-and-three-quarters by then!

T: Wow, do you think my socks will still fit me then?

K: I dunno.

T: Is that an age for dying?

K: No, of course not.

T: Will my socks still fit me when I die?

K: I dunno.

T: What if I never die?

....and on and on.....