I don't understand Fat Pants. Maybe I'm doing it wrong?
Not long ago I discovered that all of my work pants were way too tight. I mean, I could just barely fasten them and when I did I was immediately uncomfortable and grouchy. So I figured I needed to lose a couple pounds. But that could take a few weeks, right? So I decided to get a couple pairs of stop-gap Fat Pants to meet my needs until I dropped a couple pounds and went back to my usual pants.
Also, I figured, it's only a few pounds I need to lose, so I don't need a serious diet, I'll just cut out junk food, including the (almost nightly) glass of wine and some-form-of-chocolate. In a few weeks, I'll be back in my regular pants. Right?
This does not seem to be how it works Instead, it went like this:
Purchased 2 pairs of Fat Pants and experience immediate relief.
Lost all desire to squeeze into old pants.
Lost all desire to lose a few pounds.
Drank lots of wine and ate lots of chocolate.
Can now ONLY fit into two pairs of Fat Pants -- regular pants will no longer fasten.
When I was wearing the Tight Pants and feeling uncomfortable all day long I was much more motivated to diet. Now that I am comfy in my Fat Pants, why would I bother? Actually, even when I was sausaging myself into my old pants from 9am-5pm, the motivation was only present when the Tight Pants were on. As soon as I'd get home from work I'd put on Comfy Pants and miraculously forget about the whole pants problem. It's like I can only diet when I'm at work, and uncomfortable.
Like right now. I'm in my powder blue snowflake patterned fleece pajama pants (jealous?) and they feel great! So what's the problem? No problem! Bring me more wine and chocolate! No problem all the way till tomorrow morning when I have to dress for work. And even then, I have the Fat Pants.
This all reminds me when a friend of mine gained her Dissertation Weight (it's a thing, really) and she went out and bought bigger clothes. I remember she said, "I'm not getting fat, I just needed bigger clothes!" This is exactly my problem. The bigger clothes take away that sense of expanding waistline, thus all motivation to diet.
So the questions remain:
(1) How do I get motivated to get back into my old pants? Keep wearing them? Wear them 24/7 so I am always uncomfortable?
(2) How do I keep the Fat Pants from becoming the Regular Pants? Or, God Forbid, the New Tight Pants?
(3) How is this supposed to work? What am I doing wrong?
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Friday, January 27, 2012
Necessity is the Mother of Learning to Operate Doorknobs
At the ripe old age of 2 years, 7 months, Quynh had still not learned to operate a door knob. And why would she? With two parents and a brother to open doors for her, she had no need.
Until she moved into her Big Girl Bed.
The first few nights in the bed she slept like an angel, waking at the usual hour of 6:30am and softly calling to us or signing to herself to let us know she was awake. We'd go in and find her still in her bed, playing with her baby dolls. The transition from crib to bed went so smoothly, I thought to myself, somehow forgetting my past experience. Then, just like her brother before her, it occurred to her that she could simply get out of bed. Whenever. She. Wanted.
The next few nights, she woke early and decided enough was enough. No longer caged in her crib, she climbed out of her bed. But she was trapped in her room by her inability to figure out the enigma that is the doorknob. Logically, she knocked to be let out. One night Minh and I woke to the outrageously loud sound of tiny little knuckles rapping on a door at 2am. And then again at 5am.
This habit spread briefly to bedtime. A couple nights in a row, just after being tucked in, she would start knocking on the door. We found that if we opened the door and tucked her back in there were tears. But if we ignored the knocking it eventually stopped.
But then one evening it happened. We tucked her in and closed the door. Less than two minutes later the door *opened* and Quynh came out, announcing, "Mama, I have to tell you a secret." Trying not to let my face betray the absolute shock and horror (and not even a hint of pride) I felt at her new-found ability to escape her room, I tucked her back in and told her to save her secret for the morning. She wept. And fell asleep.
For the next several nights, Quynh woke at the ungodly hour of anytime-before-6am, came out of her room, and wandered down the hallway. She'd come into our room, clad in feety PJs, nuk in mouth, stuffies tucked under arms, and blanky dragging behind her. She'd look up at me with those big black anime eyes and ask, "Can I come in your bed?"
And I'd say "No."
It's so hard to say no, but we learned with the first kid that we have to. So each time, we'd put her back in her room and she'd cry. But eventually she got the hint. She's still not sleeping all the way until 6:30, but this morning she stayed in her room (doing God-Knows-What) until then. Actually, I take it back. I know what she was doing. She has one of these things, where you scratch off the black stuff to reveal sparkly rainbow colors underneath. She adores it. And at one of my recent 5am wake-ups (during which I found myself arguing with a 2 year old over whether and why she had to go back to sleep) I grabbed the notepad off her table and suggested she busy herself with that till 6:30am. Not the best decision, since I now find her sheets covered in little black flecks every morning. But at least she lets me sleep.
Now she has the cutest little night light on a timer just like her brother. And we're hoping she takes to that system as well as he did. Tonight's the first night with the timer and she's pretty excited about it. Let's see what the wee small hours of tomorrow morning bring.
Until she moved into her Big Girl Bed.
The first few nights in the bed she slept like an angel, waking at the usual hour of 6:30am and softly calling to us or signing to herself to let us know she was awake. We'd go in and find her still in her bed, playing with her baby dolls. The transition from crib to bed went so smoothly, I thought to myself, somehow forgetting my past experience. Then, just like her brother before her, it occurred to her that she could simply get out of bed. Whenever. She. Wanted.
The next few nights, she woke early and decided enough was enough. No longer caged in her crib, she climbed out of her bed. But she was trapped in her room by her inability to figure out the enigma that is the doorknob. Logically, she knocked to be let out. One night Minh and I woke to the outrageously loud sound of tiny little knuckles rapping on a door at 2am. And then again at 5am.
This habit spread briefly to bedtime. A couple nights in a row, just after being tucked in, she would start knocking on the door. We found that if we opened the door and tucked her back in there were tears. But if we ignored the knocking it eventually stopped.
But then one evening it happened. We tucked her in and closed the door. Less than two minutes later the door *opened* and Quynh came out, announcing, "Mama, I have to tell you a secret." Trying not to let my face betray the absolute shock and horror (and not even a hint of pride) I felt at her new-found ability to escape her room, I tucked her back in and told her to save her secret for the morning. She wept. And fell asleep.
For the next several nights, Quynh woke at the ungodly hour of anytime-before-6am, came out of her room, and wandered down the hallway. She'd come into our room, clad in feety PJs, nuk in mouth, stuffies tucked under arms, and blanky dragging behind her. She'd look up at me with those big black anime eyes and ask, "Can I come in your bed?"
And I'd say "No."
It's so hard to say no, but we learned with the first kid that we have to. So each time, we'd put her back in her room and she'd cry. But eventually she got the hint. She's still not sleeping all the way until 6:30, but this morning she stayed in her room (doing God-Knows-What) until then. Actually, I take it back. I know what she was doing. She has one of these things, where you scratch off the black stuff to reveal sparkly rainbow colors underneath. She adores it. And at one of my recent 5am wake-ups (during which I found myself arguing with a 2 year old over whether and why she had to go back to sleep) I grabbed the notepad off her table and suggested she busy herself with that till 6:30am. Not the best decision, since I now find her sheets covered in little black flecks every morning. But at least she lets me sleep.
Now she has the cutest little night light on a timer just like her brother. And we're hoping she takes to that system as well as he did. Tonight's the first night with the timer and she's pretty excited about it. Let's see what the wee small hours of tomorrow morning bring.
Monday, January 09, 2012
Welcome to the Big Leagues
Quynh is (daytime) potty trained. She had been working on that, off-and-on, for a while, but a few weeks ago something just clicked and she got it. Do you suppose it had anything to do with the fact that in her PNP video Santa said, "I understand you've been asked to try to always make it to the toilet on time"? That Santa, he can be pretty powerful.*
Well, whatever happened, I'm thrilled that it did. She's 2 years and 7 months old and the only time she wears a diaper is overnight. I can practically see the End of Diapers Forever on the horizon.
Quynh's other milestone over the holiday break was learning how to climb in and out of her crib on her own. She frequently takes to her crib to "rest" (get a nuk fix). It's lovely that she likes to hang out in there, especially when we are making dinner. When she's done she yells, "Can someone get me out?!?" But one evening she did not call for help, but simply emerged from her room with a big smile on her face. Surely it was a one-time fluke, we hoped. But over the next few days she proved that theory wrong, easily climbing in and out at will.
So we got a sitter and went bed shopping. (Because I cannot imagine much worse than trying to make a decision about such a large purchase with two kids jumping on mattresses and asking me to play with them.) Quynh's only request was that we get her a "pink one". When we returned home and declared success, she asked a series of questions: "Where is it? Is it in the trunk [of the car]? Can I sleep in it? Is it pink?" We tried to explain that large items like beds have to be delivered and that for some strange reason pink beds are not that common.
So the bed arrives tomorrow and we're hoping the pink Hello Kitty sheets will take ker mind off the fact that her wooden bed is not pink but the color of, well, wood. Yes, tomorrow night my baby will sleep in her brand new Big Girl Bed for the first time. Yes, I am excited. And yes, I am little bit sad. But mostly I'm just wondering how she will handle sleeping un-caged. We all know how well that has gone in the past.
*I need to keep this in mind next year and start plotting what he can help me achieve in 2012.
Well, whatever happened, I'm thrilled that it did. She's 2 years and 7 months old and the only time she wears a diaper is overnight. I can practically see the End of Diapers Forever on the horizon.
Quynh's other milestone over the holiday break was learning how to climb in and out of her crib on her own. She frequently takes to her crib to "rest" (get a nuk fix). It's lovely that she likes to hang out in there, especially when we are making dinner. When she's done she yells, "Can someone get me out?!?" But one evening she did not call for help, but simply emerged from her room with a big smile on her face. Surely it was a one-time fluke, we hoped. But over the next few days she proved that theory wrong, easily climbing in and out at will.
So we got a sitter and went bed shopping. (Because I cannot imagine much worse than trying to make a decision about such a large purchase with two kids jumping on mattresses and asking me to play with them.) Quynh's only request was that we get her a "pink one". When we returned home and declared success, she asked a series of questions: "Where is it? Is it in the trunk [of the car]? Can I sleep in it? Is it pink?" We tried to explain that large items like beds have to be delivered and that for some strange reason pink beds are not that common.
So the bed arrives tomorrow and we're hoping the pink Hello Kitty sheets will take ker mind off the fact that her wooden bed is not pink but the color of, well, wood. Yes, tomorrow night my baby will sleep in her brand new Big Girl Bed for the first time. Yes, I am excited. And yes, I am little bit sad. But mostly I'm just wondering how she will handle sleeping un-caged. We all know how well that has gone in the past.
*I need to keep this in mind next year and start plotting what he can help me achieve in 2012.
Wednesday, January 04, 2012
Five
I have been a mother for five years. I have been tired, overwhelmed, and angry. I have been energized, playful, and elated. I have yelled and waved my finger. I have whispered secrets and rubbed noses. I have lost my patience. I have used my imagination. I would not trade it for anything.
Most importantly, I have raised a five-year-old who is:
Most importantly, I have raised a five-year-old who is:
- smart beyond my wildest dreams
- interested in all types of music
- an avid fan of mystery novels
- amused by slapstick comedy
- fascinated by animals
- an environmentalist
- determined to study all-things-prehistoric
- desperate to own a microscope
- hoping to one day do "real science experiments, with chemicals"
- planning to (also) be an architect
- the class clown
- a good friend
- practically a swimmer
- generous
- highly suspicious of Santa's existence
- sweet and loving toward his sister (mostly)
- sometimes shy
- frequently frustrating.....but
- always amazing
Saturday, December 31, 2011
The Miracle of Birth
Over the holiday break we went to the Museum of Science. Tai was, of course, fascinated by the dinosaurs, the Pompeii exhibit, and the gift shop.
But Quynh cannot stand and look at dinosaur skeletons for as long as her brother, so I brought her to what was one of my favorite exhibits as a child. The chick hatchery. Being 2 days before Christmas, it was not at all crowded, so we could stand right up by the window to the incubator and see all the little fluffy yellow chicks on one side and the un-hatched eggs on the other side. This was so luxurious, compared to my memories of field trips when 28 of us all tried to see in at once.
So she and I stood there and watched this one egg with a large crack in it. It began to wiggle. The museum staff member assured us it could still take hours for a chick to emerge. But a mere 5 minutes later a scrawny, wet, and tired chick emerged from the egg. Quynh was beyond excited. And I have to admit that I was pretty darned thrilled myself.
But after watching him/her struggle to stand, fall over, and flop around for 10 full minutes I was ready to move on. Quynh did not want to budge. Eventually, I decided to try to cajole her away from the chick display by enticing her over to the section on human birth.
She adored the mother-and-baby statue almost as much as she liked the models of fetuses at 2, 4, 6, and 8 months gestation. She kept asking to play with the "tiny babies".
Then she found the birth videos.
We walked into this little room with a TV screen and four buttons below it. The buttons were labeled Fetal Development, Vaginal Birth, Home Birth, and Cesarean. When we entered the room, the vaginal birth video was in progress. From my point of view, it was at a very exciting part. But Quynh found it boring at first. While the video showed a close up of the woman's face as she pushed and pushed and pushed, Quynh asked loudly and repeatedly, "Where's the baby???"
Then the camera panned down to Where The Action Is and Quynh exclaimed with apparent concern, "What's on her bah-gina?!!" I tired to calmly and quietly explain where babies come from (literally). I hoped she would not be horrified.
She watched intently as the baby emerged, was placed on the mother's chest, and was wiped clean with a towel. The video ended and she said, "Again!!!" Later, when someone was halfway through the home birth video, Quynh ran up to the TV and pushed the button to switch back to the vaginal birth movie. All told, I think she watched it three times before deciding to move on to another exhibit.
So while Tai learned about volcanoes, dinosaurs, and the solar system, Quynh learned, at the tender young age of two-and-a-half, about the miracle of birth.
But Quynh cannot stand and look at dinosaur skeletons for as long as her brother, so I brought her to what was one of my favorite exhibits as a child. The chick hatchery. Being 2 days before Christmas, it was not at all crowded, so we could stand right up by the window to the incubator and see all the little fluffy yellow chicks on one side and the un-hatched eggs on the other side. This was so luxurious, compared to my memories of field trips when 28 of us all tried to see in at once.
So she and I stood there and watched this one egg with a large crack in it. It began to wiggle. The museum staff member assured us it could still take hours for a chick to emerge. But a mere 5 minutes later a scrawny, wet, and tired chick emerged from the egg. Quynh was beyond excited. And I have to admit that I was pretty darned thrilled myself.
But after watching him/her struggle to stand, fall over, and flop around for 10 full minutes I was ready to move on. Quynh did not want to budge. Eventually, I decided to try to cajole her away from the chick display by enticing her over to the section on human birth.
She adored the mother-and-baby statue almost as much as she liked the models of fetuses at 2, 4, 6, and 8 months gestation. She kept asking to play with the "tiny babies".
Then she found the birth videos.
We walked into this little room with a TV screen and four buttons below it. The buttons were labeled Fetal Development, Vaginal Birth, Home Birth, and Cesarean. When we entered the room, the vaginal birth video was in progress. From my point of view, it was at a very exciting part. But Quynh found it boring at first. While the video showed a close up of the woman's face as she pushed and pushed and pushed, Quynh asked loudly and repeatedly, "Where's the baby???"
Then the camera panned down to Where The Action Is and Quynh exclaimed with apparent concern, "What's on her bah-gina?!!" I tired to calmly and quietly explain where babies come from (literally). I hoped she would not be horrified.
She watched intently as the baby emerged, was placed on the mother's chest, and was wiped clean with a towel. The video ended and she said, "Again!!!" Later, when someone was halfway through the home birth video, Quynh ran up to the TV and pushed the button to switch back to the vaginal birth movie. All told, I think she watched it three times before deciding to move on to another exhibit.
So while Tai learned about volcanoes, dinosaurs, and the solar system, Quynh learned, at the tender young age of two-and-a-half, about the miracle of birth.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Winter Market
I used to think "Farmer's Markets" were all about vegetables. But I have learned over the past few years that they often include meat, cheese, honey, pastries, various other crafts, and live music.
Our town happens to have not-one-but-two outdoor summertime markets and not-one-but-two indoor winter markets. Excessive? Perhaps. But it means that chances are, when you find yourself sitting around wondering what to do, there is a farmer's market you could be visiting. We've lived here only a few months but have now officially been to each of the four markets at least once.
Yesterday morning we checked out the winter market held in the middle school cafeteria. Our kids were hesitant to get out of their PJs and into the car, but once we got there they had a blast. They headed right for the live music. Tai stopped and stared at the musicians -- enthralled but not moved to dance. Quynh is more of a free spirit. The music moved her to spin around in circles as fast as she could to the point of extreme dizziness and then stagger off into the crowd.
Minh took the time to visit all the tables and even purchased some Actual Vegetables. I, on the other hand, (1) finished my Christmas shopping and (2) bought coffee, cocoa, and a scone for our family snack.
And, of course, we ran into some friends. How could we not? The place was packed with young families, old townies, and everything in between.
Part of me pats myself on the back for introducing my kids to farmers markets, with their local organic produce. And part of me wonders about the example I set when I run right for the table with the chocolate croissants.
Our town happens to have not-one-but-two outdoor summertime markets and not-one-but-two indoor winter markets. Excessive? Perhaps. But it means that chances are, when you find yourself sitting around wondering what to do, there is a farmer's market you could be visiting. We've lived here only a few months but have now officially been to each of the four markets at least once.
Yesterday morning we checked out the winter market held in the middle school cafeteria. Our kids were hesitant to get out of their PJs and into the car, but once we got there they had a blast. They headed right for the live music. Tai stopped and stared at the musicians -- enthralled but not moved to dance. Quynh is more of a free spirit. The music moved her to spin around in circles as fast as she could to the point of extreme dizziness and then stagger off into the crowd.
Minh took the time to visit all the tables and even purchased some Actual Vegetables. I, on the other hand, (1) finished my Christmas shopping and (2) bought coffee, cocoa, and a scone for our family snack.
And, of course, we ran into some friends. How could we not? The place was packed with young families, old townies, and everything in between.
Part of me pats myself on the back for introducing my kids to farmers markets, with their local organic produce. And part of me wonders about the example I set when I run right for the table with the chocolate croissants.
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Racial Profiling
My kids go to a "school" that employs both full-time teachers and work-study college students. To me, there is a clear distinction, but to my kids they are all "teachers." And there are so many work-study students in that place, that I can't keep them straight and am not sure I have even met them all. But I hear lots of stories about them from my kids.
One day, while picking up Quynh at the end of the day, I happened to catch the name of the student helping her with her shoes, Samantha*. I did not scrutinize Samantha's features, and apparently neither did Quynh. A few days later we were out to dinner in town and a group of young women entered the restaurant. Quynh immediately started yelling, "Samantha! Samantha! Samantha!" and pointing.
I scanned the group of women for Samantha, but the closest I found was another white girl with similar hair color and body type to Samantha. But who really looked nothing like her. Embarrassed by her yelling, I tried to quiet Quynh and explain that was not Samantha, though possibly looked a little bit like her.
All of this happened in the amount of time it took this group of women to walk into the restaurant, be seated at the table next to us, and order a round of scorpion bowls. (Because that's what college-aged women do at 5pm on a Tuesday, I guess).
************Fast-Forward About 6 Months*******************
The kids and I were in a Mexican restaurant for dinner the other night. It's a very casual place where you order at the counter, and lots of folks come in and out for take-out. Tai and I were still enjoying our tacos, but Quynh was done staring at her quesadilla and chewing on her straw, so I let her get down and walk around. She disappeared briefly around the corner, by the take-out counter, and then came running back, shouting, "Jose* is here! Jose is here!"
Oh geez. Jose is another work-study student at school. But I figured that Quynh had surely just mistaken some random Latino man (possibly even an employee of the restaurant) for Jose. This is going to be embarrassing, I thought, and possibly result in a long conversation on the way home about race, and genotype versus phenotype, etc. I am not ready for that.
Like Lassie, Quynh stood 5 feet from our table, begging me and Tai to follow her around the corner and see Jose with our own eyes. In an attempt to get myself out of a potentially embarrassing situation and having to say to some stranger, "You'll have to excuse my daughter, she thinks all Latinos look alike," I said to Tai, "I don't really remember what Jose looks like, so why don't you go see if she's right."
Tai hopped down off his seat and they both ran off around the corner. Seconds later they re-appeared, with huge grins on their faces, and Jose by their side. Jose waved to me and talked to the kiddos for a minute. They peppered him with questions, "What are you doing here? Where are you going now? Why???"
As I watched them staring up at Jose, star-struck, it reminded me of once seeing an elementary school teacher of mine in the supermarket. It's totally weird to see a teacher out "in the wild" and be reminded that they are people too, with their own lives.
The good news is my daughter is not racist. But she thinks all white girls look alike. ;)
*Names have been changed.
Thursday, December 08, 2011
Candy Canes
Last week we attended our town's annual holiday tree lighting event, complete with wagon rides, a barely audible middle school chorus, the arrival of Santa via fire truck, and Christmas Carols played by the marching band.
For Quynh, the best part was counting down along with the crowd "10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1" and watching the tree light up. After the initial cheering, she cried, "Again!" but no one else seemed to want to unplug it and start all over. The good news is that she gets to do this every evening when we get home from work and school in her very own living room. After (or while) fighting over who gets to flip the switch, she and Tai count backwards from 10 at the top of their lungs and then fill the living room with Christmas Cheer.
For Tai, the highlight of past tree lighting events has always been the marching band, but this year I think it was the simple joy of running around the town common and playing hide-n-seek with his friends. At dusk. In a dark green jacket. Making it impossible for me to keep track of him.
Upon his descent off the fire truck, Santa was swarmed by masses of kids, teenagers, and (pushiest of all) parents thrusting their toddlers in his face. All in the name of receiving a candy cane that you could just go buy anywhere.
Yes, we were in that mob. Caught up in a frenzy of BeatleMania-esque excitement, I too was holding out a hand for a candy cane, to give to Quynh. And Minh lifted Tai high up in the crowd and coached him, "Hold out your hand! Show Santa you want one!"
Candy canes in hand, we wove our way through the madness over to a slightly less crowded spot to watch the band. Both kids asked to eat their candy canes right away (an hour before dinner) and I said, "Of course!" Because what kid has ever finished a whole (full-sized) candy cane? I figured they would suck on them for 10 minutes and then get over it. After all, candy canes are not actually that good.
(You already know where this is going, don't you?)
I unwrapped both candy canes and handed them over. Then we tried to get a picture of our two adorable children with their festive treats, but Quynh kept hiding behind my legs desperately asking to be picked up and Tai was making a nasty face. "Ugh," said Tai after 3 licks. "These are mint. I don't like mint." And he handed his candy cane over to me as trash.
Quynh, on the other hand, has no problem with mint. Yup, you guessed it. While watching the band....she worked on her candy cane. After it fell on the ground....she ate it some more. When the other kids were all running around playing...she stood on the sidelines and nibbled her candy cane. On the way to the restaurant for dinner....she kept on licking the damn candy cane.
When we sat down to dinner it was about two-thirds gone and we had to forcibly remove the last third from her little fist. And there were tears. And screaming. In public. While people were trying to eat. To shut her up, I promised she could finish it after dinner. but this just meant that after each bite, throughout the whole meal, she asked "Now can I have my candy cane?" After she had eaten one won ton, a chicken finger, and two bites of something else, I gave up.
"Fine. Take the (friggen) candy cane." She won. But the meal suddenly became more pleasant, so maybe we all won.
As you have figured out by now, she ate the whole damn thing. I don't know why her capacity for sweets continues to surprise me. Someone remind me of this next time I am tempted to give her a treat before dinner.
Merry Christmas.
For Quynh, the best part was counting down along with the crowd "10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1" and watching the tree light up. After the initial cheering, she cried, "Again!" but no one else seemed to want to unplug it and start all over. The good news is that she gets to do this every evening when we get home from work and school in her very own living room. After (or while) fighting over who gets to flip the switch, she and Tai count backwards from 10 at the top of their lungs and then fill the living room with Christmas Cheer.
For Tai, the highlight of past tree lighting events has always been the marching band, but this year I think it was the simple joy of running around the town common and playing hide-n-seek with his friends. At dusk. In a dark green jacket. Making it impossible for me to keep track of him.
Upon his descent off the fire truck, Santa was swarmed by masses of kids, teenagers, and (pushiest of all) parents thrusting their toddlers in his face. All in the name of receiving a candy cane that you could just go buy anywhere.
Yes, we were in that mob. Caught up in a frenzy of BeatleMania-esque excitement, I too was holding out a hand for a candy cane, to give to Quynh. And Minh lifted Tai high up in the crowd and coached him, "Hold out your hand! Show Santa you want one!"
Candy canes in hand, we wove our way through the madness over to a slightly less crowded spot to watch the band. Both kids asked to eat their candy canes right away (an hour before dinner) and I said, "Of course!" Because what kid has ever finished a whole (full-sized) candy cane? I figured they would suck on them for 10 minutes and then get over it. After all, candy canes are not actually that good.
(You already know where this is going, don't you?)
I unwrapped both candy canes and handed them over. Then we tried to get a picture of our two adorable children with their festive treats, but Quynh kept hiding behind my legs desperately asking to be picked up and Tai was making a nasty face. "Ugh," said Tai after 3 licks. "These are mint. I don't like mint." And he handed his candy cane over to me as trash.
Quynh, on the other hand, has no problem with mint. Yup, you guessed it. While watching the band....she worked on her candy cane. After it fell on the ground....she ate it some more. When the other kids were all running around playing...she stood on the sidelines and nibbled her candy cane. On the way to the restaurant for dinner....she kept on licking the damn candy cane.
When we sat down to dinner it was about two-thirds gone and we had to forcibly remove the last third from her little fist. And there were tears. And screaming. In public. While people were trying to eat. To shut her up, I promised she could finish it after dinner. but this just meant that after each bite, throughout the whole meal, she asked "Now can I have my candy cane?" After she had eaten one won ton, a chicken finger, and two bites of something else, I gave up.
"Fine. Take the (friggen) candy cane." She won. But the meal suddenly became more pleasant, so maybe we all won.
As you have figured out by now, she ate the whole damn thing. I don't know why her capacity for sweets continues to surprise me. Someone remind me of this next time I am tempted to give her a treat before dinner.
Merry Christmas.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Enjoy the Silence
The toddler room at school sent out an email last night announcing a three day experiment of Silent Drop-off. They asked that, for the rest of the week, when dropping of our children parents not speak. They suggested using gestures, sign language, and (when absolutely necessary) whispers.
It was framed as a pedagogical tool to "allow the voices of the children to be heard". But I think they are just trying to tell us parents we are loud and obnoxious and hang around chatting too long each morning. And I'm not going to contradict that notion.
Anyway, we did as told this morning. We prepared both kids for this new system and they both did amazingly well. Tai spoke not a single word and in fact held a lengthy conversation with one of the teachers using sign language. Quynh started off whispering, "be quiet" and washed her hands in silence. With nothing to talk about, we were in and out of there in about 4 minutes. I hugged Quynh (already engaged in some activity at a table) and signed "I love you." She whispered it back to me before turning her attention back to what she was doing.
And that was it. I think it worked well. The kids all seemed happy and the parents didn't linger too long. But I wonder when the novelty will wear off.....and whether this system will continue past these next couple days?
PS - First blog post from the iPad. please forgive any typos.
It was framed as a pedagogical tool to "allow the voices of the children to be heard". But I think they are just trying to tell us parents we are loud and obnoxious and hang around chatting too long each morning. And I'm not going to contradict that notion.
Anyway, we did as told this morning. We prepared both kids for this new system and they both did amazingly well. Tai spoke not a single word and in fact held a lengthy conversation with one of the teachers using sign language. Quynh started off whispering, "be quiet" and washed her hands in silence. With nothing to talk about, we were in and out of there in about 4 minutes. I hugged Quynh (already engaged in some activity at a table) and signed "I love you." She whispered it back to me before turning her attention back to what she was doing.
And that was it. I think it worked well. The kids all seemed happy and the parents didn't linger too long. But I wonder when the novelty will wear off.....and whether this system will continue past these next couple days?
PS - First blog post from the iPad. please forgive any typos.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Wine Club
All my fears about joining a book club have been realized. Specifically, the fear that I am not motivated enough to actually read the books in time for the meetings. I actually like reading, and some (though not all) of the books have seemed quite interesting. It's just that I don't have much time during which I could read. See below for graphical evidence:
A Day in My Life:
See that purple slice? Not very big, is it? Additionally, I have other things I'd like to do with my free time. So when that precious sliver of time rolls around each evening, Reading a Book Someone Else Chose has to compete with television, movies, the hot tub, and precious sleep. Not to mention paying the bills, folding the laundry, or even blogging. Most nights the book loses. And this is why I am only 60 pages into the book we are slated to discuss tomorrow night.
Having been the student who always completed every assignment in school it is kind of liberating to be blatantly ignoring the main premise of a book club. Luckily, I don't have to feel too guilty, as several of the other members of the club have the same problem. At the last meeting exactly none of us had read the book. Somehow, we still managed to chat for over two hours.
This is why I proposed dispensing with the pretext and just renaming it Wine Club. But I guess some folks actually read the book this month, so maybe that won't work. It's time for us to select a new bunch of books to read and I'm still holding out hope that if we choose fluffier, easier, more compelling books that I might actually get through them. Yes, I need Book Club dumbed-down, apparently.
Tonight, during my 2-ish hours of Free Time after the kids go to bed and before I fall asleep, I will feel zero pressure to read, as finishing the book in time is now a lost cause.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Looooong Weekend
Playground
Visitors
Cupcakes
Movie
Sleepover
Bounce House
Birthday Cake
French Fries
TV
More cupcakes
More TV
Another sleepover
More TV
Another playground
Ice Cream
Another Movie
And we wonder why the kids were acting like over-tired-picky-eater-spoiled-brats by 5pm this evening. Tomorrow we bring them back to school so the teachers can whip them back into shape. Good luck to them.
Visitors
Cupcakes
Movie
Sleepover
Bounce House
Birthday Cake
French Fries
TV
More cupcakes
More TV
Another sleepover
More TV
Another playground
Ice Cream
Another Movie
And we wonder why the kids were acting like over-tired-picky-eater-spoiled-brats by 5pm this evening. Tomorrow we bring them back to school so the teachers can whip them back into shape. Good luck to them.
Tuesday, November 08, 2011
Time Change
The best part of our recent "fall back" clock change is that it's light out early so I can walk the dog at 6:15am and even get back and sneak into the shower before anyone else is awake. (Because the nature of the Morning Game is sleep-as-late-as-i-can-but-get-into-the-shower-before-the-kids-wake-so-that-when-they-do-wake-they-are-Minh's-problem). Anyway, the light in the morning motivates me to drag my ass out of bed a tad earlier and walk the dog first thing. I get fresh air and a little bit of exercise, as does she. Win-win.
The worst thing about the clock change is that I can no longer leave work at 4pm with my sunglasses atop my head and pretend that they are there because of, you know, the sun. (When really they are just there to hold my hair out of my face). Somehow (as much as I want to) I can't bring myself to walk around at dusk with sunglasses on my head. Apparently, even I have standards.
The worst thing about the clock change is that I can no longer leave work at 4pm with my sunglasses atop my head and pretend that they are there because of, you know, the sun. (When really they are just there to hold my hair out of my face). Somehow (as much as I want to) I can't bring myself to walk around at dusk with sunglasses on my head. Apparently, even I have standards.
Sunday, November 06, 2011
Wednesday, November 02, 2011
Powerless
After three full days without power (well, actually with some spotty generator power, but no REAL power) we have done All The Things. There is simply nothing left to do with a toddler and a preschooler that we have not done.
We went sledding, drank hot cocoa, made beaded necklaces, colored pictures, sculpted with play-dough, constructed a marble run, made puppets and held puppet shows, had playdates with neighbors and school friends, used precious bits of the ipad's batteries to play games and read stories, read actual paper books, and more books, and then some more books, drew on the windows with markers, goofed around with flashlights and lanterns, played hide-and-seek in total darkness, and adorned ourselves with Halloween-themed temporary tattoos (that are currently proving very difficult to wash off).
Thankfully, school was open today. And the power is back on, so we can go back to being more reliant on electronic entertainment for the kids than I ever realized we were.
We went sledding, drank hot cocoa, made beaded necklaces, colored pictures, sculpted with play-dough, constructed a marble run, made puppets and held puppet shows, had playdates with neighbors and school friends, used precious bits of the ipad's batteries to play games and read stories, read actual paper books, and more books, and then some more books, drew on the windows with markers, goofed around with flashlights and lanterns, played hide-and-seek in total darkness, and adorned ourselves with Halloween-themed temporary tattoos (that are currently proving very difficult to wash off).
Thankfully, school was open today. And the power is back on, so we can go back to being more reliant on electronic entertainment for the kids than I ever realized we were.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Farm to Table Project
My kids' school has a farm share and each week the pre-schoolers get to go pick up the veggies. Then the teachers have to figure out what to do with all those veggies. They have made kale chips, beet pancakes, apple-carrot muffins and who knows what else. The preschoolers get to help with the cooking and then they all get to taste the dish and even provide a rating on how well they liked it. It's like one of those smiley-face pain scales they hang on the wall in the hospital. (You know, the one that you would laugh out loud at while you're pacing the room in labor.....if laughing were an option at that moment). In this case, I believe the food-rating options are "really liked it", "just liked it", "kinda liked it", and "didn't like it." I'll wait until Tai is a little older to lecture him on constructing a valid likert scale.
Eventually, the teachers got smart and enlisted the help of a few pre-schoolers, mine included, to compose a letter home to parents asking for help with creative veggie recipes. Tai embraced this project whole-heartedly. Over the course of a week, I heard about this letter from Tai approximately 27 times. I got, "Do you have any recipes that use beets? kale? edamame?" and "Maybe we can make pumpkin bread or beef stew?"
He had me at beef stew.
I am not a great cook, but beef stew is one thing I can do. And it uses potatoes and carrots and garlic and onions. I figured I'd jump on that and let some other parent figure out what to do with the rutabagas.
Earlier this week I gathered veggies from the school's share and last night after dinner, my entire family worked together to make a huge crock-pot full of stew for the entire school. I don't know how I didn't realize this ahead of time, but everything takes three times longer when working with kiddos. It was extra work for us to keep manufacturing easy, safe jobs for Quynh. To his credit, Tai peeled all the carrots, but it took him a good 35 minutes and some of them were peeled to within an inch of their life. Ever seen a carrot with a waist? I have.
After struggling for a while with a butter knife and a raw potato, Quynh request a sharper knife. She was totally jealous that Minh got to chop the garlic with a cleaver.
This morning my two kids, beaming with pride, delivered the stew to school. They scooped some out right away and brought it to the infant room for their morning snack. I can't wait to hear how it goes over in the toddler and pre-school rooms. After all that work, I do hope they eat it.
Eventually, the teachers got smart and enlisted the help of a few pre-schoolers, mine included, to compose a letter home to parents asking for help with creative veggie recipes. Tai embraced this project whole-heartedly. Over the course of a week, I heard about this letter from Tai approximately 27 times. I got, "Do you have any recipes that use beets? kale? edamame?" and "Maybe we can make pumpkin bread or beef stew?"
He had me at beef stew.
I am not a great cook, but beef stew is one thing I can do. And it uses potatoes and carrots and garlic and onions. I figured I'd jump on that and let some other parent figure out what to do with the rutabagas.
Earlier this week I gathered veggies from the school's share and last night after dinner, my entire family worked together to make a huge crock-pot full of stew for the entire school. I don't know how I didn't realize this ahead of time, but everything takes three times longer when working with kiddos. It was extra work for us to keep manufacturing easy, safe jobs for Quynh. To his credit, Tai peeled all the carrots, but it took him a good 35 minutes and some of them were peeled to within an inch of their life. Ever seen a carrot with a waist? I have.
After struggling for a while with a butter knife and a raw potato, Quynh request a sharper knife. She was totally jealous that Minh got to chop the garlic with a cleaver.
This morning my two kids, beaming with pride, delivered the stew to school. They scooped some out right away and brought it to the infant room for their morning snack. I can't wait to hear how it goes over in the toddler and pre-school rooms. After all that work, I do hope they eat it.
Thursday, October 06, 2011
There's Always Time For Coffee
Last Saturday I had an unusually bad morning. When the kids woke at the Crack of Six I let them come snuggle in our bed and watch about an hour of TV. Usually this tactic gets me a decent chunk of light sleep. But last Saturday Quynh was having none of it. While Tai sat and calmly devoured his allotted Screen Time, Quynh talked, wiggled, and kicked, and sat on my chest. For the entire hour. I should have just gotten up with them and saved the precious TV time for later in the day when I needed a break.
So, somewhere around 7:15am, bleary-eyed, I stumbled into the kitchen to rustle up some breakfast. After serving my kids, I scooped myself a large serving of what I believed to be vanilla Greek yogurt, topped it with granola and took a huge bite.
Alas, it was not yogurt, but sour cream.
OK, that was horrifyingly gross, but I recovered quickly. I simply dumped it out and started over with the actual Greek yogurt (that happened ot be in exactly the same shape, size and color contianer as the sour cream.)
After breakfast the kids started in with, "Can you play with me? Can we do a puppet show? Can we do an art project?" Not having to be at Tai's swim class until 9am, I figured I'd take my coffee into the play room and spend some quality time with the munchkins.
I then proceeded to pour a full cup of coffee and immediately knock it off the counter onto my (wood) kitchen floor. Tai came running in the from the playroom to, basically, point out that I had made a huge mess. Thanks, I hadn't noticed.
After I cleaned up the mess and poured a fresh coffee, the kids and I managed to have a wonderful time playing together. We built a zoo out of blocks and plastic animals, and then drew pictures of animals to hang on the wall. I helped Tai use stencils to make a sign that said "Lions eat Zebras and Wildebeests." All the while, Tai and Quynh happily shared their toys and refrained from yelling at or hitting each other. It was lovely.
Until I looked at the clock. 8:52am.
Swim class is at 9am.
That's when I started yelling. "Tai, we need to go to swim class RIGHT NOW! Take off your shorts, put on your bathing suit, now go put on your crocs and wait for me by the door!"
Surprisingly he did not resist this abrupt end to our morning playtime, but did exactly as he was told. I ran around the house, grabbing his towel and a change of clothes for him, shouting a reminder at Minh that he and Quynh were to take the cats to the vet in half-an-hour, and then actually took the time to stop and make myself a travel mug of coffee.
Yup, while my son was waiting obediently by the door I took the time to make sure I'd have coffee to sip while I watched him swim. Then we breezed out the door a whole 4 minutes after I'd checked the clock. Just as I pulled the garage door shut behind me I heard Quynh, still playing quietly in the playroom call out, "Mama?"
Too late, we were gone--on a mission to not miss more than 15 minutes of the 45-minute class we had paid for. As we started down the street Tai commented, "Woah, Mama, you're driving FAST!"
Luckily, swim class is only about 7 minutes from home. By 9:15 Tai was in the pool and I was taking my seat among the other parents. There I sat, un-showered, teeth un-brushed, with no makeup on. But coffee in hand. I have my priorities straight.
So, somewhere around 7:15am, bleary-eyed, I stumbled into the kitchen to rustle up some breakfast. After serving my kids, I scooped myself a large serving of what I believed to be vanilla Greek yogurt, topped it with granola and took a huge bite.
Alas, it was not yogurt, but sour cream.
OK, that was horrifyingly gross, but I recovered quickly. I simply dumped it out and started over with the actual Greek yogurt (that happened ot be in exactly the same shape, size and color contianer as the sour cream.)
After breakfast the kids started in with, "Can you play with me? Can we do a puppet show? Can we do an art project?" Not having to be at Tai's swim class until 9am, I figured I'd take my coffee into the play room and spend some quality time with the munchkins.
I then proceeded to pour a full cup of coffee and immediately knock it off the counter onto my (wood) kitchen floor. Tai came running in the from the playroom to, basically, point out that I had made a huge mess. Thanks, I hadn't noticed.
After I cleaned up the mess and poured a fresh coffee, the kids and I managed to have a wonderful time playing together. We built a zoo out of blocks and plastic animals, and then drew pictures of animals to hang on the wall. I helped Tai use stencils to make a sign that said "Lions eat Zebras and Wildebeests." All the while, Tai and Quynh happily shared their toys and refrained from yelling at or hitting each other. It was lovely.
Until I looked at the clock. 8:52am.
Swim class is at 9am.
That's when I started yelling. "Tai, we need to go to swim class RIGHT NOW! Take off your shorts, put on your bathing suit, now go put on your crocs and wait for me by the door!"
Surprisingly he did not resist this abrupt end to our morning playtime, but did exactly as he was told. I ran around the house, grabbing his towel and a change of clothes for him, shouting a reminder at Minh that he and Quynh were to take the cats to the vet in half-an-hour, and then actually took the time to stop and make myself a travel mug of coffee.
Yup, while my son was waiting obediently by the door I took the time to make sure I'd have coffee to sip while I watched him swim. Then we breezed out the door a whole 4 minutes after I'd checked the clock. Just as I pulled the garage door shut behind me I heard Quynh, still playing quietly in the playroom call out, "Mama?"
Too late, we were gone--on a mission to not miss more than 15 minutes of the 45-minute class we had paid for. As we started down the street Tai commented, "Woah, Mama, you're driving FAST!"
Luckily, swim class is only about 7 minutes from home. By 9:15 Tai was in the pool and I was taking my seat among the other parents. There I sat, un-showered, teeth un-brushed, with no makeup on. But coffee in hand. I have my priorities straight.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Thank You, Coach and Tammy
Everything I know about football I learned by watching Friday Night Lights. That is, on a Football Knowledge scale of 1 to 10, I come in right around 2. This is a huge improvement, actually. I really did pick up a thing or two watching that show. Before that I was a -1.
And it's a good thing too, because suddenly Tai is fascinated by the sport. In the past three days alone I've had to (a) watch him line up his stuffed animals in opposing teams and execute a blitz, (b) "play" football with him in the backyard, to the best of my ability, and (c) watch 30 minutes of a Bears/Packers game on TV with him.
Watching football with that boy is quite the experience. He asks questions every 6 seconds. And, not knowing the football lingo as well as I should, my explanations are wordy. By the time I'm halfway through explaining that, "that guy handed the ball off to the other guy, who threw it, but then it landed on the ground and that's called an incomplete pass (I think)" he's already asked two more questions.
He is only four, so right now I can just about satisfy him with my "2" of Football Knowledge. But soon that will not be enough. Someday soon he will realize that football is not meant to be played one-one-on and that I've been letting him tackle me. Soon he will realize that I have no idea what "first and 10" or "2 minute warning" or "2-point conversion" mean. Not a freaking clue. Luckily, Minh knows all that shit.
I don't know how long this interest in football will last. Hopefully it will last a couple more weeks, because I just bought Tai and Minh tickets to a college football game. But if this becomes one of Tai's true passions I'm going to have to learn a lot more about the sport. Before having Tai, I never dreamed I'd know so much about dinosaurs or classical music. Maybe football is next.
And it's a good thing too, because suddenly Tai is fascinated by the sport. In the past three days alone I've had to (a) watch him line up his stuffed animals in opposing teams and execute a blitz, (b) "play" football with him in the backyard, to the best of my ability, and (c) watch 30 minutes of a Bears/Packers game on TV with him.
Watching football with that boy is quite the experience. He asks questions every 6 seconds. And, not knowing the football lingo as well as I should, my explanations are wordy. By the time I'm halfway through explaining that, "that guy handed the ball off to the other guy, who threw it, but then it landed on the ground and that's called an incomplete pass (I think)" he's already asked two more questions.
He is only four, so right now I can just about satisfy him with my "2" of Football Knowledge. But soon that will not be enough. Someday soon he will realize that football is not meant to be played one-one-on and that I've been letting him tackle me. Soon he will realize that I have no idea what "first and 10" or "2 minute warning" or "2-point conversion" mean. Not a freaking clue. Luckily, Minh knows all that shit.
I don't know how long this interest in football will last. Hopefully it will last a couple more weeks, because I just bought Tai and Minh tickets to a college football game. But if this becomes one of Tai's true passions I'm going to have to learn a lot more about the sport. Before having Tai, I never dreamed I'd know so much about dinosaurs or classical music. Maybe football is next.
Monday, September 26, 2011
Favorite Things
It's been 18 days and the kids are pretty well settled into the new house. So far, these are some of their favorite features (in no particular order):
*The Breakfast Bar. Who knew that sitting on a stool and eating off the counter instead of at the dining room table could be So Much Fun? They absolutely love the breakfast bar. Each morning they sit up high and nibble their food, ask for more juice, and chat with me while I putter around the kitchen/eat something. And because this arrangement puts them side-by-side instead of across from one another, they can really get on each other's nerves by touching, poking, kicking, and even just looking at each other.
*The Pool. While it's officially closed for the season now, we did manage to get in it a few times. The kids loved the idea of it. They'd beg and beg and beg to go in on a sunny 78-degree day. They'd stay in the 68-degree water for all of 3 minutes before shivering and asking to switch to the hot tub instead.
*The Hot Tub. We had one at the old house and they made good use of it. But this one is bigger. Tai tries to swim laps while Quynh tiptoes around the middle--water up to her chin--with a huge smile on her face. Oh, and then they argue incessantly about whether to turn the jets on or not. Not the most relaxing atmosphere, but they have a good time and always need to be cajoled, bribed, or dragged out after about 20 minutes.
*The Rock. There is a large rock out front, just the right size and shape for two kid bums. It's about the same size, shape, and color as our dog. Several times Minh and I have mistaken the rock for Buttons and wondered momentarily how she got out into the front yard. It's also good for one kid to stand on and subsequently jump off of. And Quynh frequently picks up mulch and scrapes it all over the surface of the rock for some reason known only to her.
*The Wildlife. Every time we walk the dog around the neighborhood we see bunnies. Every.Single.Time. And what's better than bunnies? Frogs. Because you can catch them and hold them (wild bunnies rarely stand for that). We've relocated a total of 5 frogs from our pool/hot tub to the nearby conservation area. I wonder what the neighbors think, seeing us dump frogs from tupperware containers into the tall grass then walk away? Finally, there are the spiders. Boy, do we have spiders! Luckily they are almost all in dark corners of the basement, but they are large and they are numerous. Tai is fascinated with them and even suggested the other day that perhaps at his next birthday party we could organize a game of Spider Hunt for his guests.
I will now commence waiting for the phone to ring as you all chomp at the bit to come visit our new place, spiders and all.
*The Breakfast Bar. Who knew that sitting on a stool and eating off the counter instead of at the dining room table could be So Much Fun? They absolutely love the breakfast bar. Each morning they sit up high and nibble their food, ask for more juice, and chat with me while I putter around the kitchen/eat something. And because this arrangement puts them side-by-side instead of across from one another, they can really get on each other's nerves by touching, poking, kicking, and even just looking at each other.
*The Pool. While it's officially closed for the season now, we did manage to get in it a few times. The kids loved the idea of it. They'd beg and beg and beg to go in on a sunny 78-degree day. They'd stay in the 68-degree water for all of 3 minutes before shivering and asking to switch to the hot tub instead.
*The Hot Tub. We had one at the old house and they made good use of it. But this one is bigger. Tai tries to swim laps while Quynh tiptoes around the middle--water up to her chin--with a huge smile on her face. Oh, and then they argue incessantly about whether to turn the jets on or not. Not the most relaxing atmosphere, but they have a good time and always need to be cajoled, bribed, or dragged out after about 20 minutes.
*The Rock. There is a large rock out front, just the right size and shape for two kid bums. It's about the same size, shape, and color as our dog. Several times Minh and I have mistaken the rock for Buttons and wondered momentarily how she got out into the front yard. It's also good for one kid to stand on and subsequently jump off of. And Quynh frequently picks up mulch and scrapes it all over the surface of the rock for some reason known only to her.
*The Wildlife. Every time we walk the dog around the neighborhood we see bunnies. Every.Single.Time. And what's better than bunnies? Frogs. Because you can catch them and hold them (wild bunnies rarely stand for that). We've relocated a total of 5 frogs from our pool/hot tub to the nearby conservation area. I wonder what the neighbors think, seeing us dump frogs from tupperware containers into the tall grass then walk away? Finally, there are the spiders. Boy, do we have spiders! Luckily they are almost all in dark corners of the basement, but they are large and they are numerous. Tai is fascinated with them and even suggested the other day that perhaps at his next birthday party we could organize a game of Spider Hunt for his guests.
I will now commence waiting for the phone to ring as you all chomp at the bit to come visit our new place, spiders and all.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Monday, August 22, 2011
Maine
Whenever we go on a trip, many funny or interesting things happen along the way and I think, "Oooh, I'll blog about that later." And then when Later arrives I can't seem to remember any of the stories in detail, or I'm just too exhausted to re-write them. So vacations always turn into bullet-point posts. So here you go.
- My children CAN share a bedroom, as long as one goes to bed before the other.
- Tai enjoys the beach for about 2 hours at a time, then he's ready to go back inside. We never found Quynh's natural beach limit, always having to coax her off the beach after 3+ hours of sand play.
- Speaking of limits, Tai usually announces he's all done about 2/3 of the way through an ice cream cone. And one night he declined dessert altogether, opting to sit and watch the rest of us share a slice of chocolate cake. Again, we have never seen Quynh reach her dessert limit. Her ability to eat ice cream or anything chocolatey knows no bounds.
- The one limit of Quynh's we did learn is her Sitting Still Limit. It seems to be about 20 minutes. We learned this while on a 40-minute motor boat ride and then again on an hour-long Duck Tour. We promptly cancelled the two-hour schooner ride we had originally planned.
- Although Quynh was fidgety, this year's Duck Boat experience was better than last year's. Tai seemed to enjoy it and really paid attention to the narration, including the fact that Portland has burned to the ground no fewer than three times.
- Tai now plans to be, "a scientist who studies all the creatures that live in Maine and write books about them" when he grows up. And he's going to be awesome at it.
- While at the beach, Tai's preferred spot is in among the tide pools, hunting for periwinkles and hermit crabs. And one day he dashed into the water, fully clothed, to retrieve a plastic shopping bag that had blown in, explaining, "some fish eat the plastic and could die!!"
- While riding on a ferry, we tried to share with the kids the beautiful view across the bay. But Tai was only interested in watching the mechanics of the ferry as it docked. And Quynh was only interested in the people on the bench behind us.
- Once on the island, we started walking aimlessly, looking for something fun to do until it was time for lunch and ice cream. I pulled up a map on my phone and announced that we were about to walk by a church, a library, and a playground. If you know Tai well, it will come as no surprise that he was heartbroken to learn the library was closed.
- The member of the family who enjoyed the greatest increase in quality of life while on vacation was definitely Buttons. She ran free on the beach twice daily, peed on seaweed, played with new doggy friends, but steered clear of the Scary Ocean Waves.
- While on vacation, Buttons behaved unusually well, Tai behaved unusually poorly, and Quynh decided she only eats potato chips, fritos, and dessert.
- Quynh is so stubborn that the other night she chose to watch me eat her piece of whoopie pie rather than take the one tiny bite of scallop we asked of her in order to be granted Dessert Privileges. Even after I put frosting on the scallop, she wouldn't touch it.
- Tai collected numerous rocks, shells, and dead animal parts during the course of the week. We encouraged him to return all but one favorite shell to the beach before returning home. (We certainly don't want stinky crab legs at our house!) On the last morning we took Buttons for her final walk on the beach and Tai brought his bucket-o-shells. Just before he dumped them out he said into the bucket, "If there's another fire in Maine, call me."
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