NYC Part 2: The Kids Had a Blast

Quynh:

While on Spring Break in NYC, Quynh learned to wave. While walking through Chinatown, she waved at anything and everything from her perch on Minh's back in the ergo. At dinner one night, the waiter came over and said hello to her. She stared back at him. Then, 30 seconds after he left, she waved emphatically in his direction. Waving? yes. Timing? not so much.

Quynh also realized, while on vacation, that diaper changes are a stupid boring waste of time and she won't stand for them anymore. Gone are the days when she'd be still for changes. And gone are the days of cute little wriggles -- feeble attempts to get away. This girl now means business and it takes 2 adults and a toddler to get her into her PJs at night. Oy.

Quynh enjoyed two swims in the hotel pool, though her pleasure was derived largely from the disturbing behavior of constantly trying to drink the (inexplicably) salty pool water. Yech.

While in NYC, Quynh had her first: scallops, dim sum, ice cream, and cheesecake. Not a bad haul.


Tai:

At the Bronx Zoo, Tai's refrain was "what's gonna be the next am-ma-mul?" The second we arrived at any animal, he asked what was next. This is in stark contrast to last September at the National Zoo, when he was content to look at the pigeons for 15 solid minutes.

The trip to the zoo did, however, mark a major milestone in Tai's life. He took his first ride on a carousel not sitting on the Lame Stationary Bench. Up until now he's always been afraid to ride on the horses. But this carousel wasn't horses. It was bugs--all manner of bugs. Tai asked to sit on a red ladybug, but they were immediately taken by all the little girls. So we had to settle for a white spotted beetle, which we assured him was just a different type of ladybug. This big step paid off, and he was brave enough to ride on a horse at the Central Park carousel the next day. This is awesome because Minh and I were sick of sitting on the damn bench.

Tai's impressions of Manhattan? "There's a lot of stairs in New York City!"

What was his favorite part of the trip? "The subway because it's loud and goes super-duper fast!" Clearly, he would have been content to ride the subway (standing, holding onto a pole, of course) for hours. Who needs to go to a museum? We could have entertained him all day for a mere $2 in subway fare.

We did, however, go to the Museum of Natural History with several of his buddies from school. The kids were interested in the exhibits for about....10 minutes. The rest of the time was spent on snacking, pottying, and jumping off benches while the adults were all too tired to intervene. Near the end of the museum trip, Tai started begging to go back to the hotel and nap. Sorry kid, the hotel is in Jersey and it took us an hour to make our way into the city this morning.

NYC Part 1: Country Mice Belong in the Country

Minh and I hadn't been to The Big Apple in about 14 years. Needless to say. we were not the right people to be preparing Tai for the trip. Our first day in Manhattan Tai asked someone where we buy the tokens for the subway and was promptly laughed at and told that those were phased out in 1998. Whoops! Sorry, kid. Last time your Daddy and I were in Manhattan there were tokens.



One Day 2 Minh and I split from our Friends Who Know New York to venture out on our own and meet up with some old college friends who work in Manhattan. We needed to get ourselves from Central Park to Times Square and were told it was easy and would only take 15 minutes. Being a bit shy of taking the subway ourselves, we decided to take a cab. So we exited the park and found ourselves at a busy intersection. I walked to the edge of the sidewalk and tentatively waved my hand as if to say, "um...excuse me?....taxi? please?" After 10 minutes we decided this was not working. Maybe we needed a better corner? So we looked up our destination on our phones and decided to walk in that direction and continue to try to grab a cab. But then we saw that it was only 14 blocks, so we walked the whole way. This took more than the 15 minutes we had allotted and caused Tai to fall asleep in the stroller about 10 minutes before dinner, but we got there.



After dinner in Times Square we needed to get our butts all the way back to the hotel in Jersey. Gulp. We had our instructions. Take the A Train to 175th then get on the 186 bus. The friends we were dining with live all the way out in Queens, but graciously offered to walk us to the subway station. I accepted their help and told them they just needed to get us to the right station and we'd be fine from there. But when I asked them how we know whether to go "inbound or outbound" they decided then and there to accompany us all the way to the bus station. In the end, they went many miles and probably an hour out of their way to see us safely onto the 186 bus back to Jersey.



The only problem was we weren't sure where to get off the bus. I was goofing around with my phone, not paying any attention, when Minh said, "are you watching? we have to request the stop we want." Ugh, I looked out the window and didn't recognize anything, so we decided we'd already missed it. So we hit the stop request button and got off, somewhere in New Jersey, at 9pm. Certian that we'd missed our stop, we immediately did a 180 and started walking in the direction the bus had come from. I pulled up the hotel address on my phone and noticed (after 2 whole blocks) that we were going the wrong way. Apparently, we got off the bus a few stops too early. After that self-guided Walking Tour of Englewood, NJ, we made it back to the hotel by about 9:45pm. The next day we found ourselves on the 186 bus again. By this time we were seasoned travelers and it was daylight, so surely we'd get it right. That time we only got off 1 stop too early. We'd just about figured the whole bus thing out when it was time to head back home.

The Many Faces of Tai

Pneumonia Tai

• is feverish, uncomfortable, and pathetic
• is given unlimited juice and television, and much pity
• wakes at 4am unable to stop coughing and crying
• but then "naps" from 10am to 3pm

Healthy Tai

• refuses to brush his teeth
• has learned to "sass" his parents, using the strongest language he knows. ("I'm really gonna open this door!" and "I'm never ever gonna go to bed!")
• glances sideways at a parent as he yanks a toy out from under his sister, causing her to fall over
• makes us miss Pneumonia Tai, just a bit

Daylight Savings Tai

• comes out of his room every 7 minutes from tuck-in (8:30pm) until 10:15pm. (Note, Grey's Anatomy loses something when you have to pause it 9 times.)

Did I say I was looking forward to our trip to NYC? The one where the four of us all have to sleep in the same room (two to a bed) for three nights? I'm just glad Q's still nursing, because that's my excuse to sleep with her. She crowds me and she wakes 4 times a night, but at least she doesn't kick and spin around like a Toddler Sun Dial in the bed. Good luck, Minh.

NYC Will Never be the Same

That's right, the Country Mice are packing their Costco Luggage with their poly-blend sweaters, $30 jeans, and sensible shoes, and heading to The Big City.

Luckily, we've roped some friends into being our Free Tour Guides, and we plan to meet up with some folks who live down there and know their way around. I'm now only slightly scared that my little family will get lost or separated. I'm much more scared by the thought of 3 days in a row with no nap. Not only is Tai unpleasant to be around when he's tired, but I worry that three days in a row will set some sort of precedent and he'll decide to give up his nap thereafter. Oh, the horror.

But, setting my anxiety aside for a moment, I'm very much looking forward to this trip. Tai is beyond excited because (a) we're going to see dinosaur bones, (b) we're going to the Bronx Zoo, and (c) the hotel has a pool! (I remember when, as a child, I didn't care if we were going to Idaho on vacation, as long as the hotel had a pool).

We'll actually be travelling with Tai's best friend and meeting up with two other buddies from school at the Museum of Natural History. What more could a kid ask for? This trip promises to provide education, entertainment, life-long memories, and (most importantly) fodder for some decent blog posts.

Low Energy Role Play

This evening I suddenly realized why toy doctor's kits are so popular. It's not about alleviating your child's fear of the doctor or starting them on the path to a prestigious and lucrative career. It's about being able to play with your child while half-asleep on the couch.

Tonight after dinner, Tai asked me to lay down on the floor and asked me if anything hurt. I promptly presented with a severe headache and backache. For this, I was examined with a stethoscope, given an elbow x-ray, and had several vials of blood drawn from the tip of my finger. I milked it as long as I could before he moved on to the next activity, which involved me having to stand up.

But my acting skills are nothing compared to Minh's. He really takes his imaginative play seriously and is especially good at the persistent vegetative state.

Death.

Tai's experience with death, thus far, has been limited to:

(a) Asking us to re-tell the story of our cat, Gorby, who died long before Tai was even conceived.
(b) Being told that my parents' dog, Taz, died and that they got a new dog named Cassie.
(c) Hearing that two of the fish in the tank at school died. And then meeting the replacement fish.

Friday we got word that our neighbors' dog, Red Dog, had passed away. On the way home from school Friday I gave Tai the news and we talked about drawing a picture for Red Dog's youngest owner (and Tai's friend), Lila, to make her feel better. Naturally, he had some questions.....

"Why did red Dog die?"
(Well, because he was old and sick and his body stopped working.)

"What is their dog's name now?"
(They don't have a new dog. Red Dog died last night and now they don't have a dog.)

"Was his tail moving?"
(No, once an animal dies it doesn't move anymore.)

"Why is Lila sad?"
(Because Red Dog died and she loved him. Wouldn't you be sad if Buttons died and then she wasn't here anymore?)


Oh Boy, this is where I went a little too far in my explanation and opened a huge can of worms.....


"Is Buttons going to die?"
(Yes, everything dies eventually. But Buttons is young and will probably live a long time.)

"And Smudge?"
(Yes, someday.)

"And Nibbies?"
(Yes.)


I watched the wheels turning behind his eyes and cringed as I waited for it.......


"And Quynh??"
(Ummmm........yes. But not for a very very long time.)

"And Me?????"
(Um yes. Again, not for a long time.)

"And you? And daddy?"
(Yup.)

"Who is going to live in our house when we are all dead?"


So, pretending that I did not just emotionally scar my child and cause him to live in constant fear of his own death, we went on with our afternoon. He painted Lila a picture and then we played and talked about the usual mundane stuff. When Minh came home, Tai made sure he heard the news about Red Dog. And then the topic of death was dropped, for a little while.

Just this evening, while attending a Super Bowl party at a friend's house, we were standing around the kitchen, eating guacamole and chicken wings, and chatting with several people whom we had just met. And then there was a lull in the adult conversation. So Tai filled it with:

"Someday I'm going to die."

Summer Olympics, here we come!

All the cool kids take gymnastics lessons. Mine included.

Tai had his first gymnastics class this week and Minh and I were both bursting with pride (and shock) as Tai boldly walked into the gym, by himself, and took a spot in a circle of about 15 kids and 3 adults, none of whom he'd ever met before. "Who is this usually brave child?" we thought.

"Ohhhhh, that's more like it," we thought, when everyone in the circle stood up and started stretching and jumping around, while Tai sat open-mouthed on the floor and stared around the unfamiliar room. For 10 solid minutes.

After abstaining from the warm-up, Tai readily joined in the small group activities, which basically consisted of going through various little obstacle courses. (Crawl through a tunnel, go down a slide, hang from a bar, walk along a balance beam, etc).

The very first step in his very first activity? Do a somersault. "Oh no," I thought as I watched child after child (who were all older than Tai and who had all clearly been taking gymnastics since birth) do perfect somersaults down the wedge-of-cheese-shaped mat. Knowing that Tai cannot do a somersault, my anxiety mounted. Would he balk at even trying? Will there be tears if he tries and fails? Will the Russian judge be unfairly hard on him?

Watching all this through a window, we could not hear any of the conversation, but we saw Tai climb up to the top of the Cheese Mat and the teacher gesture to him to squat down and do a somersault. Mere seconds later the teacher realized who he was dealing with and decided he needed to give more hands-on help. With Tai squatting at the top of the mat, and the teacher's hands on his waist, I can only assume that the teacher verbally instructed Tai to tuck his head down and roll. And Tai promptly flopped onto his belly, legs sticking straight out behind him. The teacher, apparently, decided not to push the whole curl-up-into-a-ball component of somersaulting and just helped Tai flip down the mat, his body straight and stiff as a board. Clearly, Tai is already training for the roundoff-backhandspring-layout that will no doubt become his signature move by age 5.

The good news is, Tai had a really great time and can't wait to go back next week. This means I get to look forward to 12 more weeks of sitting in a crowded waiting room among seasoned parents who sit in the front row, blocking my view of my kid, while they do work or play with their iphones. Someday maybe I'll be that seasoned, but for now I'll enjoy watching Tai try his hand at gymnastics and hoping that he someday masters the back handspring, which I never did. Or at least a somersault.

Sleep Nursing

Last night I woke up and found myself sitting in the glider in Quynh's room. I looked down to find Quynh draped precariously across my lap -- her mouth at my breast and her legs dangling down over my knees.

I had no idea what time it was, when I came into her room, or how long I'd been in there. The last thing I remembered was coming into her room sometime around 11pm.

I placed her back in her crib and stumbled back to my room to check the clock. It said 1:30am. Had I been in there since 11pm? Or had I mis-read the clock, and it really said 1am when I went in? Or had she woken at 11 and then again later, and I managed to get up and go to her without really waking up at all?

I wonder what else I do around the house in my sleep.... maybe I can put this new skill to good use and wake up tomorrow to find that I've folded all the laundry while snoozing.

Cultural Capital

There are good reasons to let your kid watch TV. One of them is the 30 minutes of peace and quiet you get for yourself. But one of them is so your kid can keep up with the other kids at school. No one wants to have the kid who gets ridiculed for saying "Who's Elmo?"

Last week at day care pick-up Tai's good friend Natasha informed me that she was Judy Garland, Moe was the Tin Man, and Tai was the Lion. Upon hearing this, I turned to the teacher standing next to me and said, "I guess Natasha has seen that movie. Tai hasn't." She gave me a look that said no shit and recounted this story for me:

Natasha: I'm Judy Garland, who do you want to be?
Tai: The Gingerbread Man?
Natasha: No.
Tai: The Big Bad Wolf?
Natasha: No

Probably exasperated by this point, Natasha then assigned Tai to the role of the Lion. (What is she trying to imply about his personality?.....Oh wait, he is afraid of butterflies. Good casting, Natasha.)

Although he may have never seen the movie, he played along and payed close attention to who everyone was supposed to be. Later that night I recounted the story for Minh and when I mentioned that Natasha played the role of "Dorothy" Tai gave me a look that said, you have absolutely no clue and proceeded to correct me. "No, Mama! She was Judy Garland!"

The Life and Times of Emmit

I think most of you know (or know of) Emmit. He was given to Tai when Tai was just a newborn and, laughing in the face of all the cautions against placing stuffed animals in the crib with young babies, we gave him a home in Tai's crib.

They've been best friends ever since.

All the books say that allowing a child to have a "transition object" or "lovey" can help them learn to soothe themselves and help comfort them when mom and dad are not around. Sounded good to us. BUT, we did not want to have one of those kids who takes the lovey everywhere, causing the parents to live in constant fear of leaving it behind at the supermarket or the playground. So, once Tai was about a year old we set the rule the Emmit (and nuk, for that matter) were only to be used in the crib at naptime and bedtime. At school, Tai was not to leave his nap mat with either Emmit* or nuk in his possession and all the infant-room teachers knew it.

This rule worked very well. Until recently.

About a month ago, Tai started sneaking off to his cubby at school for a 5 minute snuggle with Emmit and a quick suck-fix on the nuk. The teachers saw how much Tai enjoyed this and indulged him. Me and Minh, not so much. Frequently, at pick-up, one of us would be trying to wrestle him into his jacket and boots while he climbed up into his cubby to grab Emmit and nuk. When we told him those were just for sleeping, he retorted, "But [my teachers] let me!"

So we had a word with his teachers. I explained to them that nuk was to be strictly off limits except for naptime, but Emmit could be used now and again when he needed some extra comfort.

Well, apparently the toddler teachers had been allowing other children to bring their loveys (everyone has one, it seems) into the classroom on occasion and they took my statement about Emmit as permission to let Tai do the same. Initially, we were shocked to arrive at pick-up and find Tai and Emmit playing in the classroom (and to see pictures of Emmit attending morning Circle Time). And so was the school's regular substitute teacher, who often taught Tai when he was in the infant room. With a look of sheer horror on her face, she told us one morning, "Do you know they are letting Emmit in the classroom?!?!" Wow, we trained her well.

But we've decided the Tai-Emmit bond is not such a bad thing. And we certainly don't want to have the only kid who's not allowed to have his lovey when he wants it. Inevitably, we followed suit at home. Emmit may now be played with any time of day, but only in Tai's room (we have to keep some of our arbitrary rules in place, right?) Honestly, that's mostly so we don't have to search the whole house for him each night at bedtime.

The result? Tai now spends *alot* of time playing in his room. He and Emmit now do everything together and Emmit has had 7 birthday parties just this week. The benefits? Tai actually plays "alone" a bit more now that he can steal off to his room and be with Emmit. The drawbacks? He seems even more reluctant to leave the house in the morning, and it seems to be a reluctance to leave Emmit behind.

Is this the start of a slippery slope? Will Emmit soon be joining us at the dinner table? And on outings to Costco? Will Quynh and Skipit (not pictured) form the same type of bond? Stay tuned....

* Yes, there is an Emmit at school. We actually have 3 -- one for home, one for school, and one spare. Tai knows there are multiple Emmits and has no trouble with this. In fact, he will occasionally declare an Emmit dirty, put it in the hamper, and ask for the clean one out of his underwear drawer.

It's Getting More Difficult...

...not lying to Tai.

I've been trying to maintain this whole Not Lying to my Children Policy (the whole Santa thing excluded). It's usually pretty easy to maintain, as long as I am willing to simplify the truth or exaggerate time lines -- "yes, I am going to bed after I put you to bed" (just not immediately after I put you to bed).

But it's getting trickier these days, especially because Tai's new habit is coming out of his room after we put him to bed. Several times a night. It's like he has suddenly figured out that the world doesn't stop once he's in bed. We theorize that he lays in there for 5-10 minutes thinking up the next line to feed us. Usually, we get these:

I'm not tired.
I want to play.
I'm hungry.
I need ice in my water cup.
Where is Quynh?
I need something else to sleep with.
I'm all alone in my room - I need you to snuggle me.
I want Mama and Daddy to go to bed.
What are you eating?
I thought you said you were going to bed, Mama.

I've been evading some of the more direct questions about what we do after he goes to bed. I tell him we have some grown-up things to do (like washing dishes and packing lunches) and then we get in our PJs and go to bed. This is all true-ish, but not as truthful as saying, "Look, kid. After you're out of our hair we drink wine, eat chocolate, watch R-rated movies and soak in the hot tub."

Technical Difficulties Resolved

We now return to your Regularly Scheduled Font.

Not So Bright

Last night we headed out on what promised to be a productive, delicious, and magical family outing. First, Costco for some essentials and dinner at the food court. Then, on to Bright Nights in Springfield's Forest Park. Both kids had napped well at school, Quynh had just nursed, the dog had been out to pee, our shopping list was in order, and we even remembered the Bright Nights $3 off coupon. It was going to be perfect.

While zipping down 91 South toward Costco we realized neither of us had much cash and both the Costco food court and Bright Nights seem like the type of places that wouldn't take credit cards. Hmmmm...what to do? No Problem! I pulled out my handy-dandy new iphone and asked it to show me all the nearest ATMs, which it gladly did (and then even gave me turn-by-turn directions from my current location.) Awesome. No little bump in the road like a lack of cash was going to ruin our evening.

Tai, meanwhile, was all questions about this whole Bright Nights thing. "It's a park?" "Do we get out of the car?" "Can we play there?" "Will Santa be there?" "Can we go see him?" "Where is Springfield?"

Costco shopping? Check.

Dinner of hot dogs, chicken bakes, and an apple? Check.

Small talk with the folks eating at the table next to us? Check. (Woman: "You have beautiful children." Tai: "I'm cute!")

Time to head on to the Main Event.

A mere 10 minutes later and we pulled up to the main gate of Forest Park, only to see the giant unlit Bright Nights signs on the closed gate at the entrance to the completely dark park.* I sat there with my mouth hanging open for a second, wondering what was going on and (more importantly) how to break it to Tai. Then I fumbled in my wallet for the coupon and read the Open Hours again. Here is (verbatim) what it says:

OPEN: Wed-Sun: Nov 25, 2009 - Dec 6, 2009

Nightly, Dec 9, 2009 - Jan 2, 2010.

Last week, when we planned this outing, I read this statement up through the word "nightly." Why would I need to read on? Wed-Sun until Dec 6th and then nightly after that, right? No such luck. What they really mean is Wed-Sun through Dec 8th!! Argh! So there we were, on Dec 8th, with no lights to look at. We told Tai and he immediately started asking "why?" in a high pitched, quivery voice that indicated tears might be imminent.

Luckily, our friends live right around the corner from Forest Park so we called and were granted permission to pop in. Tears averted. Friends visited. Leggos played. Baby nursed. All was well, and Tai learned a valuable lesson somewhere along the way. (The lesson being "read the fine print, because your mother doesn't.") Now we just have to find a time to go back down to Springfield now that Bright Nights is actually open nightly.

*Perhaps the saddest part was the bus from a retirement home that pulled up to the dark, locked gate of Forest Park right before we did. I wonder if they had a Plan B to implement so that all the retirees would not burst into tears?

One Stop Shopping

This weekend I took Tai to the local hardware store to buy batteries and an extension cord, for some Christmas decorations. While walking through the store he repeatedly asked me, "do they have presents here?"

He's eager to learn the Ways of Christmas, but doesn't quite understand it all -- I'm pretty sure he thought that Christmas gifts were purchased already wrapped,with bows on top. I tried to explain to him that anything in the store had the potential to be a Christmas present. Then he caught on and started scanning the aisles saying "Mama, we have to buy presents for our friends!"

Then we found a display of personalized ball point pens. They came in pink, red, blue, yellow, and green, with the usual array of names. As a "Kathy" I've always loved finding this type of display and have indeed owned personalized key chains, pens, stickers, etc. But I had to break it to my son that he would absolutely not find his name there in between and Stephen and Taylor. But we did manage to find the name of Tai's good friend, Natasha. I suggested we buy her a pen for Christmas and asked if he wanted to get her the green one or the yellow one.

T: "pink!"

K: "they don't have 'Natasha' in pink. green or yellow?"

T: "but Natasha's favorite color is pink!"

K: "I know that, but they just don't have it in pink."

T: (holding up a pink pen) "what's this one say?"

K: "Erica. But we don't know any Ericas."

T: (holding up another pink pen) "what's this one say?"

K: "Rebecca."

T: "I don't know any Rebeccas."

The poor kid really wanted to get his friend a pink pen and I thought it would be weird to give her a "Rebecca" pen so I looked for her mom's name. It was there, but not in pink. I looked for her dad's name. Not there. I looked for her middle name. Not there. I then got so wrapped up in my son's quest for a pink pen to give to Natasha that I started looking at the very end, where they have the pens that say things like "soccer rules" and "I love baseball." The only pink one in that section said WWJD. Seriously. I could not make this up if I tried. Luckily, not long after that, Tai declared, "These pens are for grown-ups, let's keep looking for something else."

Right up by the registers, where hardware stores tend to keep all the little useless trinkets (folding magnifying glass, anyone?) we found the perfect gift. And it came in an array of colors, including pink. Tai selected pink for Natasha, pink for S, blue for J, and purple for S. These just happen to be the 4 friends who will attend his birthday party in a couple weeks, so he can given them out then. I can't write specifically what the gift is because I don't want to ruin the surprise and you never know who reads this blog (I caught Tai handing out the URL on the playground the other day).

He carried the four items to the register, carefully placed them one-by-one on the counter and then had the nerve to tell me he had no money with which to purchase them. So, being the generous mother that I am, I fronted him the cash and promised not to charge any interest when I take it out of the allowance he'll likely start to receive in a year or two.

Saturday Haiku

snow falling. tree lit.
toddler sleeping. baby smiles.
happy saturday.

Reason # 27 to Have Children....

....Christmas.

As a child, Christmas was a magical time for me and I looked forward to it beginning in early November. In anticipation of the holiday, my mom and I would sing Christmas carols, make paper snowflakes, and even paint the corners of the windowpanes with white shoe polish. And we often had our shopping done by Thanksgiving.

Over the years, however, that feeling faded and Christmas had started to become just a big hassle that snuck up on me when I wasn't paying attention, resulting in a frantic scramble to find gifts for a huge list of folks, spending too much money, packing the car, hiring a cat sitter, and driving east to spend a whirlwind 48 hours with family when I'd much rather just stay home and hibernate (my apologies to those who read this to whom I am related by either blood or marriage). I had become jaded.

But now Tai is nearly 3 years old and perfectly ripe for the magic of Santa Claus, reindeer, and stockings. And I am nearly bursting with excitement over the chance to spin this tale that most of us tell our children (even though we teach them not to lie). Tai is already aware that Santa will bring him gifts and fill his stocking. And I'm looking forward to coaching him to put milk and cookies out for Santa on Christmas Eve (but mostly just so I can eat them after he goes to bed).

And, this year, for the first time ever, we have a Christmas tree. It's fake. (Or, as Tai says, "It's just a pretend conifer.") I was raised in a home that believed in real Christmas trees the way some people believe in God. And now I am a heretic. But, despite my upbringing, it doesn't bother me to have a fake tree and offers some distinct advantages:

(1) no pine needles on the floor

(2) no need to go buy one and strap it to the roof of the car to get it home

(3) no need to dispose of it in January -- I can never figure out which *one* week you are allowed to put tree out for the garbage truck. (And neither can some of our neighbors -- I've seen trees put out a week too late that sit on the curb for months.)

(4) we can enjoy it for an entire month without worrying about it drying out. in fact, it's already up.

Yesterday we were all home sick from work and school so we decided to put on some Christmas tunes and put up the tree. Tai was unbelievably excited and spent the entire 45 minutes that it took us to set it up asking, "Is it time for the ornaments yet?" Of course, after he hung about 10 ornaments all on one branch he lost interest.

While we were setting it up, he looked at the box it had just come out of, which showed a gorgeous lit, decorated, tree with presents underneath. He peered into the empty box and asked, "But where are the presents?" Apparently he didn't understand that the photo was just a Serving Suggestion and that we need to supply our own gifts.

And speaking of presents...this year I've set an unrealistic goal of minimizing the number of Christmas and birthday celebrations. With his birthday on 12.27, it's going to be difficult (impossible?). I know everyone wants to give him gifts and I don't mind that, but I just don't want him thinking he gets gifts every day for a week. Last year, between birthday and Christmas celebrations, and gifts arriving in the mail, he ended up opening gifts six days in a row. Just a couple more and he would have thought we were Jewish.

So here I sit, un-jaded and downright excited for this holiday season. Let the festivities begin.

Raising Paulie Bleeker

By doing whatever it takes to get Tai to use the potty, we might just be (inadvertently) raising the next Paulie Bleeker.

The current Potty Incentive Program includes getting to eat a small piece of candy after each use of the potty. This, in case anyone who has been by recently was wondering, is why we have a package of orange tic tacs on the sink in the bathroom.

And it might just be working.

Tai loves those orange tic tacs so much that when he's goofing around, not wanting to use the bathroom, we just have to remind him that he gets an "orange candy" afterward and he shapes up and does his business. Just the sight of the tic tac box makes him urinate--it's almost Pavlovian. We're nearing the point where we can walk into the bathroom and shake the tic tac container (much like shaking a can of Pounce for a cat) and he'll come running.

(Yes, I just managed to compare my son to a dog and a cat in the same paragraph.)

A Child After my Own Heart

I would prefer, hands down, a shot in the arm to having something sprayed up my nose. Tai agrees.

After receiving some (mis)information while getting my h1n1 vaccine, I told Tai that he was going to get a flu shot in his arm the next day. He became instantly excited at this idea. Seriously. He kept talking about how brave he was going to be and that he was going to get a band-aid afterward. He even told his teachers at school, proudly, "I'm going to get a flu shot today!" And when we left school yesterday to head over to the doctor's office he said to me, "I hope there will be a little bit of blood."

Feeling like I had the bravest toddler in the world, we headed to the pediatrician. Although he enjoyed playing in the waiting room, Tai actually got a little impatient and asked a couple times when it would be his turn.

Once inside the exam room, it occurred to me to confirm that he was indeed getting the shot, not the nasal spray. I was wrong. They disputed what I had previously been told and explained that they would only give the shot to kids with an asthma diagnosis. Paying close attention to this adult conversation happening in front of him, Tai piped in, "but I want the poke in the arm!"

Sadly, his preference was not taken into consideration. I delivered the news and soon my brave boy's lip was quivering and tears were silently dripping off his cheek and onto his pants. We were left alone in the room together and he started pleading with me to get him the shot, or take him home. Heart-breaking. When the nurse came in with the flu mist, he burst into a full out cry. I found myself both feeling bad for him but also somewhat embarrassed that he had lost his cool and this nurse must think he's like all the other toddlers -- afraid of shots. I feebly tried to explain that he just doesn't want anything up his nose. And he made his wishes known, screaming, "I want the shot! In my arm!"

In the end, I had to restrain him so she could squirt that stuff up his nose, poor thing. He took a few minutes to recover, but by the time we got home he was actually pleased to be able to explain to Minh that it wasn't a shot: "It was a Flu Squeeze! And I was brave!"

Conference 2

Today we had our conference with Quynh's teacher and got to see another slide show of our kid having fun at school. Set to You Belong to Me, it went something like this:

Quynh laying on her back, smiling

Quynh on her tummy, smiling

Quynh smiling while being kissed by an older baby

Quynh smiling while being dressed by an older baby (and a work-study student)

Quynh beaming while sitting up on her own

The good news is she's not failing any of her courses and probably will not be held back. Whew!

Conference 1

We had our fall semester conference with Tai's teacher this morning. Ahhhhh, there's nothing like watching a slide show of your kid playing at school and talking about how wonderful he is. Here's the summary:

• Tai plays with everyone in the classroom, but has a special sibling-esque relationship with Natasha.
• Tai enjoys making the other kids laugh and can get too silly at times.
• Tai talks alot and feels the need to fill awkward silences.
• Tai likes to teach the new, younger, kids the circle time songs and signs.
• Tai is not a big fan of using the potty when he has better things to do.
• Tai is able to, but prefers not to, dress and undress himself.

All of this is, of course, Earth-shattering news to us. We had no idea :)