A Mommy's Musings

Come On, Get Happy

2011-09-15T22:33:00.000-07:00

Has anyone ever asked you what you hope your children willbe like when they grow up, and you reply, “It doesn’t matter, as long asthey’re happy.” It sounds good to say,and heck, you probably mean it when you say it. I mean it when I say it, at least I think I do.

But then, I end up spending most of my time grooming them tobe “the right kind of people” when they grow up and not a lot of time focusedon making my kids happy. I’ve put a lotof effort into making them smart, healthy, athletic, attractive, savvy, andpolite. I guess I always expected‘happy’ to be a by-product of the rest. As if being the straight-A student will make my son happy. Or getting to the next level in ballet classwill make my daughter happy. Hearing thegrandparents tell them how good they are with their “please and thank yous”makes them happy.

It does to some degree because children generally like to bepraised. It certainly makes them proudto have achieved goals they have set for themselves (or more likely, that theirparents set for them). And when theygrow up, they will definitely be happier if they are successful in theircareers, fit and healthy, and have strong friendships with people who willsupport them in meeting the goals they end up setting for themselves. But dothese things make them truly happy now?

If I think about some of my daughter’s happiest moments,they include an unplanned walk to Baskin-Robbins and sharing an ice cream conetogether or a tea party on a Saturday afternoon or even just a chance to sit inmy lap to read together. My son favors agood, old-fashioned tickle session on his bed or watching a hockey game on TVwith his dad – oh, he likes that walk to Baskin-Robbins, too.

We don’t do those things very often. Usually, we are too busy shuttling them fromswim lesson to karate lesson, volunteering at the library, preparing for someBig Event for school, or nagging them to do homework, clean their rooms, andsay “please” and “thank you”. Not thatany of those are bad things; they are building a foundation to ensure happinessin their future. But I can’t help butfeel like I do need to take more time to give them happiness today.

The (Not So) Good Old Days

2011-07-17T15:42:00.000-07:00

I like to think that over time, we are becoming more enlightened and embrace progress, which is why I usually roll my eyes when people resist change with the refrain of, “I grew up with…, and I turned out fine.” I grew up with asbestos ceilings, but I’m not going to knowingly put asbestos in my house, even if I think I turned out fine.

But every now and then, I do yearn to hearken back to bygone days of parenting, back when:

1) It was OK to hit your kids. I’m not saying that I want to use my kids as punching bags and take my frustrations out on them. But I can’t argue with the effectiveness with an occasional spanking for serious offenses. For example, the other day, the kids snuck out during their afternoon nap and went into our exercise room, which they are not allowed in without adult supervision. It only takes the thought of a 10-pound weight dropped on a toddler’s foot to know why we have this rule. I found out about their scheme when I heard someone scream, which turned out to be from my son when my daughter slammed the exercise room door on his fingers. They both know the rule about not slamming doors, about not going into that room unsupervised, and about not leaving their rooms to play when it’s nap-time. I really wished I could have spanked them both as a reminder about why we have those rules.

But I couldn’t spank them, not just because I don’t want Child Protective Services on my case, but because I’m conditioned not to lay a finger on my kids. I would have been consumed by guilt. As it was, I was feeling pretty guilty just for wishing I could spank them.

2) You could leave your kids in the car by themselves. The really horrible parents who left their kids in a locked car on hot days ruined it for the rest of us. Whether you’re stopping at the ATM, picking up your dinner at Applebee’s to-go, or dropping off another child at school, if you need to get out, all the kids have to come with you. That’s extra five-point harnesses to undo and extra hands to hold crossing the street. Suddenly, what was a two-minute task takes 15 minutes.

3) You didn’t know how horrible high-fructose corn syrup was. It’s in practically every single snack food there is, even stuff you think might be healthy (I’m on to you, granola bars!). Of course I want to feed my children good, nutritious food. Every lunch I pack for them contains fresh fruit, a green vegetable, some lean protein, and a little starch to keep the tummy full. But when they hit a growth spurt, they seem to be hungry 24/7, and it’s a long and expensive scavenger hunt at the supermarket to find them good snacks that will keep them sated between meals. When I’m short on time and feeling a budgetary pinch, I do wish I could buy some Oreos and Pop Tarts and be done with it.

Under Pressure

2011-03-06T15:01:00.000-08:00

The documentary Race to Nowhere has been making the rounds in our communities, and all around me, parents are tsk-tsking the achievement-obsessed pressures put upon our kids today. In the Silicon Valley, where everyone is hustling to create the Next Big Thing that will Change Life As We Know It, the pressure is even greater as parents try to instill that drive to excel in their children at a very early age.

But it’s not just the kids who live in this pressure cooker. We parents are getting cooked right along with them. When my son started kindergarten, I was immediately approached by the PTA recruitment team, mostly comprised of the wives of the VP’s, CEO’s, and CIO’s that run companies like the one at which I work. They needed room mothers, fund raising task force members, traffic council volunteers (“traffic council” is a fancy word for being a crossing guard in the school parking lot). They’re very lucky that they don’t need to earn a living with jobs that dictate how to spend 10 hours of the day, but I do and their husbands work me to death. I don’t have the energy to work for them, too.

We can’t just sign up our son for Little League, we have to coach, too (they must be strapped for coaches if they’re asking us). And I can’t bring cupcakes for him to share with his classmates on his birthday due to a strict no-sugar policy. Instead, I am supposed to put together a book about his life that I need to present to the class. Really, he’s the one in kindergarten, but I have to do a project?

We get weekly reminders – er, I mean newsletters – to pack healthy lunches, buy organic, support local businesses, recycle, conserve water, compost, participate in school events, read to our children at least 15 minutes every day, sign up for [insert sport here], and (my favorite) slow down and enjoy quality time with our families.

It’s not that I have any issue doing those things, but we can’t just do them. We must perform them at the highest level at all times. And for some reason, even though I believe that I would try to do most of those things on my own anyway, it becomes so stressful when there are external levers driving those behaviors.

Don’t get me wrong. I love where I live. I love the diversity. I love the culture of innovation. I love having my family close. I love having Stanford in my backyard. And I love the weather. I just wish this area came with a safety valve.

Declaring Victory

2011-03-04T23:55:00.000-08:00

It's been a little crazy over the last few months, and I haven't had time to properly declare victory over the tiny diapered diva. Yes, after many frustrating months and an EPIC battle of wills, V finally shed her diapers during the day around the start of the year.

If you had asked me back in November, I would have told you V would be wearing diapers all the way to the day she graduates high school. It felt like there was nothing she wanted enough for us to dangle before her as a reward, no punishment scary enough with which to threaten her, no shame too great to inflict on her psyche. She simply wanted nothing to do with the toilet or underpants and that was the end of discussion for her.

(By the by, yes, she does display my mother's stubbornness and temper, aren't I lucky to be sandwiched between them?)

So how did we finally turn the corner? I'm not proud to admit it, but I pretty much had a melt-down in front of her. We had been trying to send her to the potty every hour to get her to pee in the toilet, and I had just returned from such a fruitless journey to the bathroom when she ran back to the play room, defiantly plopped down on the carpet and had a pee of such gargantuan proportions that it completely saturated and defeated her pull-up. So I grabbed the closest thing I could find to soak up the mess, which turned out to be one of her favorite shirts (a coincidence, I swear). And instead of cleaning it up, I threw the shirt at her and made her wipe it up. Then I screamed at her that I was done and I wouldn't be cleaning up her mess anymore, and I couldn't care less if she wore diapers for the rest of her life. I pulled off her wet pull-up, stuck underpants on her because I was too lazy to open a new pack of diapers, then I left to fume.

Probably not one of my finer moments of parenting.

But the next day, she didn't wet her pull-up at all, and the day after she started wearing underpants, and she's had nary an accident since. All in all, my momentary loss of parental dignity was well worth the results. Duh, winning!

It Gets Better When We Get Better

2010-10-07T22:58:00.000-07:00

Maybe you have seen the recent “It Gets Better” campaign, in which celebrities urge LGBT youth not to take their own lives. It’s a tragic campaign really, putting the spotlight on how trapped today's kids feel by bullying.

It made me wonder how kids can be so cruel to one another. Then it made me mad. Why is everyone trying to convince the victim not to commit suicide? Why isn’t anyone telling those bullies to stop? And what about their parents? Who are the horrible parents of these horrible kids?

Certainly I’m not one of those parents. I’ve never taught my kids that it’s all right to take out my anger, frustration, and insecurity on someone else. I’ve never acted in a way that would encourage such awful behavior in my children.

It’s not like I’ve ever had a bad day at work then yelled at my five year-old for something as trivial as spilling his water on me at dinner. Or been embarrassed by my three year-old pooping at the public pool then humiliating her by scolding, “only little babies poop in their diapers” in front of her friends. I’ve never made a side comment to my husband about how the waiter at Chevy’s must be kind of stupid to get our order wrong three times in one visit and will be lucky if I don’t complain to his manager. Nope, not me. Or maybe I did – once or twice.

But surely the parents of these bullies do more than lose their temper. They must beat their kids. Or drink themselves into a stupor in front of the children. Or completely neglect them and leave them to lead “Lord of the Flies”-like lives at home. Losing one’s cool occasionally in front of the kids can’t turn them into bullies, right?

Then again, my kids have been yelling and taunting each other a lot. That’s just siblings being siblings, and a kindergartener learning delinquent behavior from the more belligerent kids at school. It couldn't be me. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe I had something to do with their recent aggression toward each other.

So I have been trying very hard the last few days not to yell at them at all, not to lose my temper over a five year-old acting five and a three year-old acting three. It isn’t easy – five and three year-olds are pretty evil – and there is a lot of stress in our lives from our environment, the economy, and an ever-growing sleep deficit.

What amazes me, and shames me, is that it has made a difference. They listen about as much as they did before (which is to say, not much), but they treat each other more civilly. They treat me and my husband more civilly. We’ve had fewer tantrums from the kids because their mom is throwing fewer tantrums.

It’s a disturbing realization. How many of us suffer incompetent co-workers, bad drivers, and apathetic service providers all throughout the day and go home feeling just a bit pent up? How many parents take out all the inequities of their crappy day by inadvertently letting off steam at the stupid (sometimes colossally stupid) things their kids do? How often are bullies passing on the hell they catch at home – over getting a bad grade, forgetting to do their chores, talking back to a parent, or being generally lazy and recalcitrant – to someone who is going to shut up and take it (until that someone can’t take it anymore)?

In other words, how many parents essentially bully their kids without realizing it? After all, bullying is inflicting emotional pain and creating a threatening and hostile environment. What’s more painful and hostile than to have your mom or dad go crazy mad at you?

It’s really difficult as a parent to recognize when we’re treating our kids like emotional punching bags. At the end of an immensely bad day, if you come home to a whiny son and a daughter who decides to paint your skirt with strawberry yogurt, the first reaction is to yell and punish them. But that doesn’t make the day any better. Nope. It gets better when we get better, about managing our own hostility and giving our kids a good example of how to treat others.

Being a Full-Time Mom

2010-09-27T23:11:00.001-07:00

I need to state for the record that I am a full-time mom. I also work full-time. I am still a mom, even when I am at work. I am still a mom when I am at the gym. I am a mom at 3am when V is screaming because she got a bloody nose. I am a mom when I take PTO because E has a fever and cannot go to school.

I am not a stay-at-home mom (quite frankly, I do not have the patience and fortitude that SAHM's have, and bless their hearts, they are stronger women than I am), but that does NOT mean that I am not a full-time mom.

Please note for future reference that just because a mother needs or wants to contribute to the household income that it does not diminish the full-timeyness of her motherly duties.

School's In Session

2010-08-27T21:47:00.000-07:00

E officially started kindergarten this last Tuesday. After all the worrying and stressing over private vs. charter vs. public schools, whether to put him back in his bi-lingual daycare after kinder or keep him at the on-site after-school care, who would take him, who would pick up, and all the million other things that kept me up, it was a very anti-climactic first week.

Somehow he made it through his first few days without crying about not being with his sister or pre-school friends. Amazingly, I was able to wake up in time to get him to school before the bell rang. He made friends. He ate his lunch.

Lesson learned: I don't give him or me enough credit to transition to the next stage of his life without trauma.

And now that I've figured that out, I can return to my regularly scheduled program of worrying whether V will ever be able to quit the diapers.

Gratitude: The First of Many (Hopefully)

2010-07-14T20:11:00.000-07:00

I complain about my kids. A lot. A lot a lot. They are whiny, they are high-maintenance, they don't listen, they are hyper. But at the end of the day, they are pretty good kids (of course, there's still plenty of time for me and the hubby to ruin them).

I need to complain less and be more thankful for having them in my life and be more appreciative of their virtues. So herewith, the first of what I hope will become a new series of posts about the shiny, happy side of my kids.

If nothing else, I will have some posts to re-read on those days when they are fighting or screaming or not paying attention or not paying attention while they fight and scream.

I am grateful that my kids like to eat their vegetables. I hear stories about moms who have to hide zucchini in spaghetti sauce or chop spinach down to the molecular level and mix it in with their meatloaf or meatballs. Some people have told me they bribe their kids with candy just to down a leafy green.

I don't have this problem at all. My kids LOVE spinach; I have to cook it 2 bunches at a time to have enough to go around. In our home, you might hear weird statements like, "No, you can't have more spinach until you eat some spaghetti!" They love cauliflower, broccoli, bok choy, and sweet potatoes.

I'd like to think it has something to do with my great cooking skills, but I think that it boils down to the fact that we're just lucky.

Words To Live By: Oh Heavenly God

2010-06-13T21:09:00.000-07:00

E has been learning a little bit about God (aka "the Big Guy") from a few of his church-going friends at school. Even though we are not a religious family, I think it's good for him to have some exposure to religion and to explore ideas about God and spirituality and develop his own ideas.

I have to admit that some of the things he says really tickle me and even touch me so I thought I'd share:

On Death/Going to Heaven:
"Mommy, how did Great-Grandpa go to Heaven? Did he take a rocket ship?"
"Lucy went to Heaven to keep Great-Grandpa company."
"Mommy, I wish Lucy would come home from Heaven because I miss her. Are you going to cry now?"
"V, hold my hand because we are in a parking lot and there are lots of cars and I'm small. If you don't hold my hand then a car will squish me then I'll go to Heaven and then Mommy will have only one childrens and then be really sad and cry all the time. Do you want that to happen?!"
"Mommy, do they have TV in Heaven or is it so boring?"

On God:
(upon being asked who God is) "God is the Big Guy! He's the Man."
"Mommy, I think I'm getting sick because God used his magic powers to make me cough and plugged my nose all up."
"God made all the grandmas and grandpas, but then they made us borned the regular way."
"Mommy, did you know God is so, so big but can fit into someplace really small, like someone's heart?"
"I think I drank too much orange juice and now it's all the way up to God. You know, it filled me up to here (points to his heart)."
(upon being asked how his friend knows so much about God) "I don't know. I think he makes it all up actually."
"God can be really big or really small because He's magic. And He can be any color, even white!"

Belated Birthday Wishes to My Kidlets!

2010-06-07T23:45:00.000-07:00

The first half of the calendar year is pretty birthday-intensive for our family, with my father's birthday in January, my mother's and my birthdays in February, E's in March, and V's in May. It feels like every other week is a family dinner to celebrate someone's birthday.

And now that the kids are old enough for parties, it feels like I have to skip my birthday altogether and go straight from planning my dad's birthday dinner (I don't usually plan my mom's because we have always been lumped together - it's not like I don't love my mom. Mom, if you read this, it's not that I don't love you) to planning E's birthday party. The second the last of his little party guests leaves, then it's time to plan for V's birthday party. Having their birthdays two months apart was clearly a grave tactical error on my part.

In case you don't have kids or haven't gotten to the point when your kids have opinions about their parties, I need to disclose that birthday parties are monumental events that require top-notch project management skills. But that's a topic for another day; the point is that only now, about 3 weeks after V's birthday party, do I feel like I've recovered and gotten a chance to breathe.

So *inhale*, *exhale*... Happy Belated Birthday to my two favoritest kiddios!

Ice Cream is IN!

2010-04-14T22:53:00.000-07:00

E completed his allergy panel last week, and while he still tested positive for a skin reaction to milk protein, he had no reaction when we tried milk in his oral challenge. I am thrilled to report that he was able to consume four large spoonfuls of plain ice cream without any kind of reaction.

Dairy was our last major food allergy to overcome, and I'm not going to lie, it was the biggest one. Of course, that's what I said when we got the OK from the doctor to give him wheat. Then eggs. But I've really been looking forward to the day when he can have dairy. It means that he can eat pizza and ice cream. It means I can go to a regular grocery store and get regular yogurt. He can go to a birthday party and not be the weird kid who doesn't have any cake and brings his own food.

Now we have a different challenge, which is untraining him from staying away from all these foods he's learned not to touch the last 4 years. I daresay he is probably the only kid who says that real ice cream is "slimy and weird". And he's literally afraid of cheese.

But I welcome this new problem. It's a lot less stressful than the days when I worried about lunch snack trades causing a trip to the hospital. And really, it's just a variation of a picky eater, albeit a really strange case where the child would prefer broccoli on rice over pepperoni pizza. Yup, it's a good problem to have.

Love Thy Brother

2010-03-02T23:36:00.000-08:00

Anyone who knows me knows that my brother and I didn't get along growing up. We didn't completely despise each other, but we bickered - a lot. Now that we're adults, we've (gasp!) matured a bit and we're getting along and making an effort to be closer.

Back then, if you asked me why I didn't care for my brother, I would have told you he's self-centered and underhanded, that he gets more everything for doing less and for caring less about his family, that he's immature, and a lazy, spoiled brat.

If you could have asked him why I suck, he would have probably told you that I'm mean, that I always point out every little thing he does wrong to Mom and Dad, that I try to make him look bad by parading my good grades in front of him and our parents, and that I don't treat him super nice like everyone else does.

After some surprisingly frank coffee-side conversations with my brother, we realize that at the heart of the matter was a feeling of unfairness. It wasn't fair that I got straight A's, obeyed all the rules, and did more chores around the house, but when we each got our drivers' license, my first car was the 6 year-old family car beater Jeep (OMG, the loser-mobile!) and his was a brand new, fully loaded Forerunner (because a BMW would have been a little too extravagant).

Likewise for him, it wasn't fair that I got a bigger allowance. That my parents nagged him about homework and piano practice and they never bugged me about those things. And I'm sure a ton of things he still hasn't told me.

I have two of my own now, and I can safely say that this rift between my brother and me is due in large part to my parents. Yes, it's cliche to blame your parents for your own failings. But the thing is, as a parent, I know that right now, my husband and I are the biggest influence on our children.

And I know from personal experience that one child doesn't automatically love another one just because they share parents and a home. In fact, sharing usually breeds jealousy and resentment. It's the parents' responsibility to nurture the relationship between their children.

So far my kids get along really well (they're only 5 and 3, there's still plenty of time for the wheels to come of this wagon). I'd like to say I'm lucky, but in truth, my husband and I work really hard to strengthen their relationship. Our efforts don't always work; my son recently asked me if we could sell his sister on eBay for $1 million.

From what I remember of my own childhood relationship with my brother, I've learned a few things about what can hurt that bond between siblings, and we try our best to avoid these:

Comparing them to each other. "Why can't you eat your vegetables like she does?" "Your brother could already write his name at your age." "I never have to tell your brother to do his homework." My brother and I got a lot of this growing up. It totally bites. You may not think you're doing damage, but to this day, when my brother and I get into a room together, I feel ugly because I was always told to care more about my appearance since I wasn't naturally as good-looking as my brother.

Not sharing intentions with them. My parents are hard-core, old-school Chinese when it comes to certain things. One of them is that it's not a child's place to question a parent's actions. But at 10 or 12, I couldn't see why they did what they did. All I saw was inequity. My brother was allowed to go to slumber parties but not me. I felt embarrassed I was the only one who couldn't spend the night at a party. It wasn't fair that he was able to go to his friends' houses for overnights and I wasn't. How was I supposed to know that my parents were worried that I might get kidnapped (a la Polly Klaas)? For one thing, they could have told me what their concerns were instead of flatly telling me that overnights were forbidden.

Passing judgment on their arguments. Let the records show that to this day, in any disagreement between me and my bro, my mother will ALWAYS take his side. At 38, I know it's not because she loves him more, it's because she feels like I am the stronger person and the more mature person, and she feels like I am more likely to take the high road. But damn if it doesn't feel like she loves him more. With our kids, we will mediate (you know, so they don't end up throwing forks at each other) an argument, but we try not to take sides and instead make them work it out directly between them. It's hard - in most cases, it would be faster and easier to tell so-and-so that he or she is being a brat. On the upside, I am a lot more patient now than I used to be.

So now you tell me - what are your strategies for strengthening the bond between your kids? I need tips so that 30 years from now, my kids are not blogging about my sub-par relationship-building skills.

Kindergarten: The Throwback Year

2010-01-22T23:17:00.000-08:00

We are in the middle of Kindergarten registration season, and even though my husband and I have made the decision to put E into public school, it's still causing a lot of stress.

You may think the stress comes from knowing that the charter school we registered for is expecting to receive over 500 applicants to fill only 40 spots.

Or you might think it's due to knowing that our public school's enrollment is at near capacity and some residents may get re-districted to a sister district.

But mostly what is stressing me out is the very establishment of Kindergarten itself, which seemingly still operates on the assumption that there is always one stay-at-home parent who has no other scheduled priorities beyond his or her child's school schedule.

When our kids enter Kindergarten, we will be tethered to 4-hour school days, 8:30am - 12:30pm (or even worse, 11:00am - 3:00pm - I might as well throw my whole day away). What do we do with E the rest of the day? There's no after-school care program through the school district, so now we have to find some alternative child care in addition to making a decision about school itself (I refuse to think about what to do if he gets put in the 11:00am class, I have no idea how to work my job around those 3 hours in the morning until he would go to school).

I really don't understand why this is. E's pre-school allows me to drop him off at 8:30am and pick him up at 6:00pm. He has structured lessons in pre-school: math, reading and writing, art, and PE. He is used to this schedule, it's not too much for him. He doesn't feel abandoned by his parents. When he goes into first grade, his schedule will be 8:15am - 3:30pm. So why is there this one school year where parents are forced to scramble to figure out what to do with their kids for half the day?

Now we have to consider hiring a nanny to shuttle him to and from school and watch him for the time he's not in class. The cost of a nanny who has driving credentials: almost the cost of a private school that does offer full-day kindergarten. I'm starting to see why people thought we were crazy to go the public school route. But really, it shouldn't have to be crazy to support our public education system.

I'm sure there's some method to this madness that I can't see. Maybe someone can explain it to me. Or better yet, maybe someone can tell me how to solve the dilemma we'll be in come September.

Wearing Mom Genes

2010-01-18T22:14:00.000-08:00

Recently, I had one of those calls with my mother. You know, the kind that starts out innocuously enough and casually takes a turn to disaster when you least expect it. Mom knows all your insecurities and exploits them willy-nilly on a whim. In this case, it began with a simple phrase that should always be accompanied by foreboding, slasher-flick music whenever my mother utters it, "Oh, I need to tell you something..."

Apparently, I have a smart mouth. And I shouldn't be dispensing advice to my cousins or siblings (or any relatives or even friends, for that matter). I guess an off-handed comment I made to a cousin caused a cataclysmic tear in the very fabric of my cousin's relationship with her parents. I didn't know I have such POWER. Neat-o.

It doesn't really matter that when I called to apologize to said cousin, she told me that my comment had nothing to do with the argument she had had with her mother and that it had already blown over. It's irrelevant that my mother blew the situation out of proportion by just a wee bit. The damage had been done, I was an emotional wreck for days. Now that's power.

It's the power of Mom, to undo someone with just a sentence or an intense glare. And it's in every mother's genes, as I discovered from E's teacher after I scolded him one day by simply telling him, "I'm really disappointed in you." E's teacher told me he was nervous and scared to do the wrong thing all day, that he didn't want to disappoint the teacher, that he hoped I wouldn't be disappointed in him anymore by the time I picked him up if he was a good boy all day. With V, if I look at her the wrong way, she spontaneously bursts into tears, not one word needed.

I'm really ambivalent about this. On the one hand, I know what it's like to be on the receiving end of a Mom-whammy, and I feel for my poor kids. On the other hand, sometimes it is the most efficient and effective way to influence their behavior. With great power comes great responsibility, but Peter Parker never had to figure out how to get his son to stop using his daughter as a battering ram. I guess there's really only one solution: save up for the kids' therapy bills when they get older.

Do you have Mom-guilt? If so, how do you cope?

It Wasn't My Idea

2009-12-22T01:46:00.000-08:00

Whenever my husband and I argue over something kid-related, and let's be honest, it's always the same argument, a little voice inside me always falls back to the same position, "Well, I'm not the one who wanted kids."

Horrible, right? I'm a bad person and a terrible mother because when things get tough, I always feel like I took on this extra responsibility that I didn't really want in the first place. If you ask my friends, most of them will tell you that they were surprised that we ended up having children. That's because I had said quite clearly on many an occasion that I didn't think I could do the whole parenting gig.

No one is more surprised than I am that I did it (twice) and that I actually enjoy it. That I was capable of investing so much love, time, and effort into the whole endeavor. That I actually have enough patience to watch over my little brood without going completely mental. So do I love being a mom? Yes. Do I regret having kids? No.

But that doesn't change the fact that having them wasn't my idea. So when we come back to the recurring argument - and for the record, that argument is over whether or not said husband is investing enough time and effort into the rearing of his children - I always end up thinking to myself, "It's time to cowboy up, because you were the one who wanted these kids, not me."

I never say it, of course, precisely because it is so very wrong. But I think it. I think, I earn half the household income, so why is it every time a munchkin is sick, I'm the one who has to take a day off to stay home. Why does everyone give me a guilt trip for carving out time for myself to exercise or have dinner with a friend while the husband does the same completely guilt-free? How come Daddy gets extra credit for taking twenty minutes out from surfing the net to play with the kids, but if I give up my whole day to devote to the kids, nobody remembers. Especially since I didn't want to have kids in the first place.

See, there I go again. I guess the crux of the issue isn't really who wanted to start a family first, it's really about parity in parenting. If one parent is the wage earner and the other is the household manager, the roles are more clearly defined. But when both parents have equal responsibility for bringing home the bacon, it's harder to define who's "in charge" of managing the parent-child dynamics. On most days, I gladly take ownership because I love the kids and I'm capable and well, it's just not going to get the attention it needs if I don't. But sometimes, I wish the one who was doggedly persistent about becoming a parent would step up to the plate.

Resisting the Rat Race

2009-11-11T22:06:00.001-08:00

As the days grow shorter and the leaves turn from green to gold to red (or rather, here in the Bay Area, the leaves simply yellow at the edges before falling off the trees), parents of 4 year-olds everywhere start to experience anxiety attacks and insomnia as we prepare to enter our babies into the rat race. I don't know about where you live, but here in the Silicon Valley, when our children reach school age, we parents are overwhelmed by the pressure to get our kids into the right kindergarten to get into the right elementary school to get into the right high school to get into the right college to get into the right post-grad program to land the successful career. As you can see, it's pretty much a straight shot from Montessori to that corner office at the Fortune 500 company, and you don't want your child to get behind.

A perfect storm of over-achieving parents, a sucky track record for state public schools, and affluence means that parents here start grooming their kids for success at a young age through a combination of academically rigorous private schools and a plethora of extra-curricular activities. For example, my niece, who just turned 5 in August, takes ballet, jazz/hip-hop, swimming, gymnastics, ice skating, and soccer, on top of being enrolled in a private Mandarin immersion school. Parents fight over that one open slot in the "gifted youth" program like it's the last Tickle-Me-Elmo at Christmas time.

Well, most of us do that. I've horrified many friends and colleagues by telling them we plan to enroll our son in either the neighborhood public school or charter school next year. Even though many of California's public school test scores are in the crapper, our school district gets great scores and consistently boasts that 50% or more of its graduates go on to top universities. So why pay private school tuition when the public school in our district is doing the job?

Still, when I tell other parents about our intentions, they look at me like I suddenly sprouted horns. "How could you short-change your kids like that?", "Don't you love your kids enough to buy them the best education available?" Yes, those are actual questions I have been asked. By my mother, no less.

It's hard not to occasionally fall prey to self-doubt. I don't want my kids to be at a disadvantage later in life. I do want them to get the best opportunities that we can give them.

But I also really want to believe that one can achieve that without putting a 5 year-old in 6 extra-curricular activities on top of an 8-hour academic program at an ultra-competitive private school. I want to believe that with all the pressures my kids will face in adulthood, my husband and I can give them a few years during which to play, explore, and enjoy life without without feeling the pressure that they have to get really good grades because mom and dad have invested a lot of money in their brains (and they definitely feel that pressure, even if they can't articulate it). I want to believe that by staying involved and interested in their education, we as parents can build a foundation for a love of learning that will serve them well in the future.

Maybe I am naive, I'm not sure. But I want to believe that I'm not.

Eggcelent News!

2009-10-21T21:19:00.000-07:00

The drought is over. Let the baked goods rain down upon my son and all his little friends! We took E to the allergist for his oral challenge for eggs. And I am thrilled to say that he was able to eat an entire hard boiled egg (although it took him 2 hours to eat it under the watchful monitoring of a nurse) with only a small rash to show for it.

The allergist gave us the OK to introduce small amounts of egg into his diet. This means that cake and cookies and all the other stuff he will spend his adult life trying to resist are now open to him (might as well get a chance to enjoy them now while he can, right?). In fact, he has recommended that we feed him eggs 2-3 times a week in small amounts to build up his tolerance.

This avid baker of a mom could not be more thrilled!

So to commemorate this milestone, I'll be making some cupcakes for him to bring to his Halloween potluck at school (decorated like Spider-Man to go with his costume). The only thing is, he doesn't like frosting (I've never let him have any since I never know if it has milk in it), so while his friends will get the masked Spidey cupcakes, he'll be enjoying his unfrosted Peter Parker cupcake.

Stuff I Love: (iPhone Edition) Lose It! App

2009-09-12T22:22:00.000-07:00

With each child, I tacked on an extra five pounds, mostly in my flabby, paunchy gut. For those keeping track, that's a total of 10 pounds on top of the extra 10-15 I've always carried around just for kicks.

I've never been good about losing weight. It's not so much a matter of not exercising enough. I'm the kind of person who will walk up the five flights to my office, walk to the market instead of drive, hit the elliptical, take aerobics classes, etc.

For me, it's all about the food. And I tried everything: low-carb, low-fat, eating foods in a certain order, cutting out wheat, cutting out dairy. Nothing worked. I eventually conceded I don't have the willpower to restrict my diet for the long haul. Then a friend told me about Lose It!, a free app for the iPhone. (Yes, I said it's free, in case you missed that just now.) Lose It! is basically a calorie counter in which you enter your starting weight, your goal weight, and the desired rate of weight loss. It then calculates a daily calorie budget for you, and you keep track of what you eat and how much you exercise.

That's it. It's really simple. I've used it for almost three weeks, and I've lost four pounds so far. And for the first time, I'm actually believing that maybe I can lose all my extra blubber.

Now, the calorie counts are not all accurate. Nor are the burn rates for various exercises. But if you do a little googling, it's easy enough to put in the correct numbers. Why I think it's effective, at least for me, is that it requires me to think about what I eat. And I'm realizing how many empty calories I used to consume. Stuff I wouldn't even remember eating afterwards. The cookie someone left in the breakroom after a meeting? 350 calories. And it wasn't all that good, and that's as many calories as a whole serving of stir-fry at dinner. Dayum!

That's not to say I feel deprived. Looking through my log, I've had stuff like strawberry-rhubarb pie a la mode, double chocolate cookies, green curry chicken, grilled steak fajitas. That's good eating right there. Admittedly, the fat content of my diet isn't anything to be proud of, but the calorie count is doing OK. And if I can make it through the daunting holidays, I will hit my goal weight (which is a nutritionist-recommended weight of 151 pounds, in case you care) by my birthday.

In a nutshell, if you are trying to lose weight, the solution is simple: eat less than you burn. And if you, like me, have trouble knowing how you're doing on that eating:burning ratio, get the Lose It! app for your iPhone. It's easy to use, it's free, and it works. Did I also mention that it's free?

A Journey of a Thousand Miles...

2009-08-28T23:43:00.000-07:00

Means bringing a whole lot of crap with you when you're travelling with babies. My cousin A is bringing her adorable baby to meet the family in October, which means she is going to be travelling with a 3 month-old.

I remember taking E to Washington DC when he was about 5 months old, and taking V to Hawaii when she was about 4 months old. It seemed like a lot of work at the time (little did I know that it's cake compared to taking a 4 year-old anywhere, including to the mall just a few miles from home), but now, it doesn't seem so bad in hindsight.

Maybe that's because I've probably forgotten most of what I learned about travelling with an infant. Among the things I can recall:

Breastfeed the baby at take-off and landing (if you're lucky, he will sleep for at least part of the flight)
Don't try to pack up all the baby stuff and bring it with you - you know how much airlines charge for luggage these days, right? - and buy things like diapers when you arrive (that is, unless you're about to take a hell ride on a cruise ship)
Ask your airline if a bassinet is available and if it is, try to reserve the seat in front of it. Alternately, if you can afford it, put your baby in his own seat.

I'm sure I learned way more than that, so I'm hoping anyone who might see this post would be willing to share your tips on travelling with Junior.

Being -Free: A Guide to Coping with Allergies

2009-07-28T22:31:00.001-07:00

Because of E's numerous food allergies (let's review: dairy, egg, nuts, mildly allergic to wheat, used to be allergic to fish too), I've ended up being a resource to my friends whose kids subsequently also develop food allergies or sensitivities. I'm bummed to hear other people tell me their child can't have milk / soy / gluten /nuts /name your food here, and I wish in a way that I was the only one dealing with this because it's a crummy situation, let's just be honest about it.

That being said, when I thought about how things have gone with E's diet, it's not the colossal pain and source of emotional angst that it used to be. Somehow, we've adjusted to it pretty well. So I thought it might be useful for those of you who are trying to do the -free diet to read what's worked well for us.

Eating Out Is Bad
Okay, if not bad, at least a pain. Eating out is never easy because waiters don't always know if the food you order contains the offending food. Heck, even the cooks don't always know because processed foods can contain trace amounts of stuff you just wouldn't expect in that food. And it's not just going to restaurants, it's going to people's houses, amusement parks, and birthday parties, too. E always gets a big bowl of fruit salad and a small bag of gummi bears when he goes to a birthday party; he never partakes of cake, and that's just how it's always been. So if you want to eat out, make sure you're bringing something along for your child that you KNOW is safe and that he'll enjoy.

Substitute Foods Are Great
There are a lot of options out there these days: soy milk for regular milk, non-dairy margarines for butter, rice-based pasta instead of wheat. You can swap a lot of these substitute foods without really a noticeable difference in taste or texture. A few items that have passed our discriminating palettes (that being mine, not E's since he has never had the original to compare to):

Soy Yogurt - Whole Soy is my favorite brand; it's thick and creamy and full of fruit flavor. I especially like the lemon and mango/apricot. Silk can be good, too. Its texture is like Yoplait, but I find it cloyingly sweet (E loves their blueberry soy yogurt).

Rice-Potato-Soy Pasta - I forget the name brand, but check out your closest Whole Foods for a selection of gluten-free pastas. I've found that ones that have a combination of grains has better texture than the ones that are all one grain (quinoa, rice, etc), which tend to be mushy unless cooked perfectly. Also check out soba, made from buckwheat (which is gluten-free and wheat-free despite the name) - but beware, some soba has wheat in it, so look for the kind that's 100% buckwheat.

Double Rainbow Blueberry Soy Ice Cream - It has such great blueberry flavor that you can't really taste the soy flavor too much.

Sorbet - for those of you who can't deal with the soyness of soy ice cream, enjoy some sorbet or fruit juice popsicles.

Not All Substitute Foods Are Great
The worst offenders:

Gluten-free bread - any brand, I guarantee you it will be an affront to all that is beautiful and delicious about bread. It is the gluten that imparts bread with that great chewy, light, delightfully pillow-soft texture. Forget about bread and carbo-load on something else (potatoes, rice, corn, there's lots of options).

Gluten-free, dairy-free, and egg-free cake/cookies - I hate to break it to you, but you're generally going to pass up the bakery section of your grocery store. Leaving 1 one of those 3 things can still result in a tasty treat, even 2 out of 3 can be a winner, but not having any of those things in your baked good - you'll just have to learn to get over it. What you can get is usually not worth the calories anyway. As an alternative, try gluten-free, vegan fruit pie.

Fake cheese - pretty self-explanatory.

Forget About Imposters
After all that talk about substitute foods, which have their place, we find that it's just much tastier not to pretend. Why eat fake yogurt for breakfast when you can have a real hash brown? Sometimes when you go on a -free diet, you spend so much time worrying about what you can't eat that you forget about the great things you still can eat. Just a reminder for you:

Breakfast foods:

Hash browns

Rice crispies cereal (great with some freeze-dried berries and soy milk)

Corn flakes

Sausage (check ingredients to make sure there's no dairy)

Bacon

Fruit

Snacks:

Potato, corn, or tortilla chips

Popcorn

Fruit

Generally speaking, Asian meals will have the most options for gluten-, dairy-, and egg-free dishes, especially Vietnamese cuisine, which is largely rice-based.

Leading By Example
The most important aspect of a successful -free diet is your outlook. The way you react to your child's diet will become your child's reaction. Act as if your child is being deprived and he will feel like he's being deprived. Sometimes it's the hardest thing for a parent to act like being allergic to something is like having straight hair or brown eyes - it just is part of who your child is. For me, it was so hard not to feel like I've lost out on something I always imagined myself doing with my kids: baking cookies together or making pancakes together on a Sunday morning.

At the same time, it's imperative to help your kids to understand that they do have an allergy. As much as I'd like to hope that I'll always be there to keep E from the things he can't eat, it's not realistic. He needs to be able to tell his teachers, his friends, or his friends' parents what will make him sick. E now is able to tell people, "I can't have eggs", "no cows milk for me", "I can't have cake, thank you". And he doesn't feel bad about it (usually his follow-up statement is, "can I have some gummi bears instead?").

The trick is to strike the balance between being clear what foods he is allergic to and not making a big deal of it. A few lessons we've learned along the way:

Try to have the whole family follow the same diet, at least when you are with your child. Don't groan, if your kid can't eat pizza, is it fair for you to munch away on a slice in front of him? Meet your pizza needs when you're at work, and enjoy family dinners that you can enjoy as a family. You will probably actually start eating healthier for it.
Don't freak out if your child is putting a foreign food near his mouth (parents whose kids get anaphylactic reactions get some slack on this one). You don't want your child to fear food. Instill in your kids the habit of not eating new foods when they're not with you, and teach them why.
Carry an epi-pen and Benadryl (children's oral suspension) with you when you go out to eat, just in case.
Read all food labels and try not to keep dangerous foods in the house.
Try to discourage your kids from being picky eaters (an uphill battle for some parents, I know). But the thing is, if your child can’t take in entire groups of food (dairy, gluten products, soy, etc), then it’s more difficult to ensure they have a balanced diet. Teach your kids to embrace the foods they can eat so that they get variety and balance in their diet. The best way to do this is not to be picky yourself – suck it up and be an adult about eating your green vegetables or fish or whatever you dislike eating.

I’m sure there are plenty of other tips that I’ve missed or haven’t picked up on yet. So if you have a child who has a food sensitivity and/or allergy, please share your strategies on how you cope with his/her dietary restrictions.

CONGRATULATIONS!

2009-07-26T23:42:00.000-07:00

I totally forgot to send a shout-out to my cousin A, who gave birth to her son just a few days ago. Welcome to the Mommy Club, cousin! Enjoy your new baby, but savor every second of sleep you can get in the next 8 weeks.

Operation: Quality of Life

2009-07-26T21:56:00.000-07:00

The global economy is weathering a mighty storm, and like most people, we are working harder, spending less, and trying to save more (emphasis on the word trying). The little things we cut out are small, and there are many days when it really feels like, "what's the point?". But I'm trying to remind myself that every penny counts and it will all add up. What began out of necessity, or maybe even simply perceived necessity, has really been a great discovery for us as a family and me personally.

We unsubscribed to the premium cable channels, and now having fewer choices of crappy TV shows means we actually spend our evenings doing more worthwhile things. I've taken up writing again with the occasional session of drawing, as well as playing the piano more and just getting down with my bad self to the radio (yay, radio is still free!).

We haven't let the kids buy any toys (not that we ever went crazy with toys, but we're talking not even on their birthdays this year), even the really cool ones that we're excited to play with ourselves, and it turns out they don't really play with toys anyway. There's no Transformer or GI Joe action figure that is going to capture E's attention the way being allowed to "help" his daddy wash the car does. Bonus feature: we're grooming him for unpaid labor in the future!

We stopped getting take-out in favor of preparing much simpler meals, and not only do I feel better about putting less styrofoam in our land-fills, but I've also discovered that hearing, "Thanks Mom, you cooked the best dinner ever!" makes any amount of prep work completely worth all the time and labor.

That's not to say it's easy. We work harder at work, longer hours, more stress, and as a result, we have less time to be with the kids. But the quality of the time is better; we're less distracted by the consumption of stuff. Will we stay with it once we get out of this economic slump and return once again to the days of milk and honey? Who knows, but a part of me is really hoping that we do.

Holding Out Hope for Next Year

2009-07-08T23:06:00.000-07:00

We finally got E to the allergist for his oral test for dairy, and the verdict is: still allergic. BAH!

He had one teaspoon and refused to have another one. When we tried to get him to drink two teaspoons, he spat out the milk, and where it got on his skin, little red bumps appeared. I guess pizza and real ice cream are all out for another year. The good news is he didn't have any anaphylactic reaction to the milk, so if he gets a little cross-contamination, it isn't a serious threat.

We will be scheduling an oral test for egg within the next few weeks. Hopefully he has better luck with the eggs. Wish us luck!

Fingers, Toes Crossed! The Day Has Come (I Hope)...

2009-06-13T21:13:00.000-07:00

The day that I've been waiting for came yesterday! The allergist called to give me E's test results from his allergy panel this year. This is our yearly ritual: we take E to the allergist, he gets the skin test, he gets the blood test, and then we're told his allergies are still there, and it's another year of egg-free, dairy-free, nut-free, limited-wheat eating for my baby.

But this year, the allergist came back with different results. Even though the skin test still showed an allergy to eggs and milk, the blood test came back negative for everything. HALLELUJAH!

What does this mean? It means we get to take E back to the allergist for a dairy test drive some time in the next few weeks. We'll give him a spoonful of milk and wait to see if he has any reaction (with allergist at the ready to administer whatever meds needed in case of a bad reaction). And if that goes well, we can slowly increase the dairy intake to see if he develops any adverse reaction. Then we get to do it again with egg.

I'm hopeful. I'm hopeful for being able to shop at any old grocery store (sorry Whole Foods, you have a great selection of food-sensitive products, but you're expensive!) and not having every trip be two hours (time needed to read every single ingredient label). I'm hopeful for being able to eat out anywhere without having to bring our own food. I'm hopeful for not worrying that my baby might go to the ER because he traded his rice cracker for a friend's Cheez-its at lunch time.

Oh, lucky day, I'm hopeful you've come at last....

Get Your Nose Out of My Baby's Ears

2009-06-10T22:05:00.000-07:00

Over the weekend, my mother, my MIL, and I took V to get her ears pierced. For the entire week before, V had been pointing to her ears saying "pretty pretty" in anticipation and excitement. And now, she can proudly display her pierced lobes (a fine job done by Claire's at the mall).

This did not seem like a controversial thing to do; lots of babies have pierced ears. But I got a lot of disapproving looks, free advice, and unsolicited opinions from people ranging from my nanny ("she's too young, it's going to hurt her a lot") to my sister-in-law ("it's not right to do that to her when she's not old enough to make an informed decision of whether she really wants it") to random acquaintances ("the ears will definitely get infected - is that what you want to put her through?", "she's going to grow up vain"). Wow.

Thanks everyone for your kind words and obvious concern for my daughter's well-being. I need to clarify that I had her ears pierced; I did not have her labia cut off or her feet bound. I know - fine distinction, slippery slope, blah blah blah. It's just weird to me that people would have such a strong opinion about somebody else's kid's ear lobes. Has anyone encountered the same reaction?

I'm just glad I didn't tell all these people about having E circumcised, that probably would have created a maelstrom of rebukes and dirty looks.

I Love Lucy

2009-04-27T23:29:00.000-07:00

My first child didn't come from inside me. She came from a dog rescue, but I loved her like my baby, because she is, was, and always will be my baby. Her name was Lucy, and (with all due respect to everyone's dog out there) she was the best dog on the planet.

Her unconditional love and sweetness uncorked in me the same capacity for loving another living thing with no strings attached. It was through my relationship with her that I realized I could be a mother, and a good mom at that. Much to my husband's dismay, I confess that I had our first child E for her. "Look at how good she is with little kids," I told him, "if we're going to have children, I want to do it before she's too old."

My time with Lucy ended this morning. She was thirteen, and it was her time to go. But knowing that doesn't make her absence any less bitter; it doesn't fill the Rottweiler-shaped hole in my heart.

For now, I'm filling that void with the outpouring of love I've received from friends and family who have heard the news. I can tell that she brought joy to everyone she met, and that does make her absence just the slightest bit more bearable.

Thanks to all who have given your sympathies and shed a tear for my beloved Tiny Princess. I'm trying my best to smile instead of cry when I think of her; I hope you'll do the same. I know it's how she would want to be remembered.

We Need Less Mom-on-Mom Hate

2009-03-25T21:18:00.000-07:00

I've been enjoying a much needed and much appreciated week break in between jobs, and I've had a chance to connect with a lot of my stay-at-home mommy friends. At one lunch date, we found ourselves lamenting about how daddies don't understand the plight of the mother.

"He thinks it's easy," complained one friend of her husband.

"He asked me what I do all day," chimed in another.

What I didn't add was that sometimes I wonder, too. My working mommy friends have a slightly different conversation, about how to balance career and family. Why is soccer practice always at 11:30 on Wednesdays when we have can't-miss meetings with our boss? What's the secret to being able to prep a dinner without having to hit the drive-thru line at the local fast-food joint? Somehow, we have to get all the mothering done along with all the bread-winner crap, too. So how do you not get it all done when you have the whole day and no work responsibilities?

At the end of lunch, my friend closed with, "You know what, who cares if he doesn't get it. I am making my family a priority. You need every fiber of your being devoted to being a mom to keep the family going, and I'm proud of the job I'm doing."

That stung me just a little bit. I have fibers devoted to my job, lots of fibers. Am I short-changing my kids?

After thinking about it, I realize what a disservice we all do to each other as mothers. Mothering comes in all kinds, and they are equally hard and equally valuable. So why dis each other?

Mothering is like air; it fills up the space you have to give it. I have to give time and space (and fibers) to my job. Would I rather be helping the kids with their A-B-C's, teaching them to read, taking them to the library, and getting them to soccer practice? Absolutely. But my job also puts the roof over their heads and shoes on their feet. It funds the insurance that pays for their check-ups. And because my space and time are limited, my husband is much more involved and understands just how tough a gig parenting is.

But I do have days when I look at my stay-at-home mom friends and feel like a cut-rate parent. I spend too much time on the computer. Too much time on the phone. Too much time on the road. Not catching development challenges and milestones early enough. Not being available to take them to activities and classes. Generally not being there enough. Stay-at-home moms are totally devoted to their families' needs, and I can't do that. *sigh*

Let's help each other out and stop dissing how the other side lives. Working moms, stay-at-home moms, single moms (the strongest and bravest of us all!), moms with help, and the moms who have to do it all on their own: it's all equally hard. And all equally valuable.

Words To Live By - The Four Year-Old's Edition

2009-02-23T23:15:00.000-08:00

Sometimes E says the funniest things that I just have to capture them for posterity. I hope these put a smile on your face, as they did for me:

Scatological...
(flushing toilet) "Bye-bye, poo-poo. Good luck in the ocean!"
(sitting on toilet) "Mommy, poo-poo is private time. You can go work on your computer, I'm not done yet."
(eating veggies) "I have to eat lots of vegetables, so that my poo-poo can be long and go in a circle - woooooop."

Family Relations...
"Why did Uncle D come without Aunt R? He's not supposed to go without her."
"Um, Mommy, baby sisters are just terrible! What are we going to do about them?"
(after being told he's not allowed to scream at Grandpa) "That's Grandma's job?"

Education...
(after being asked what he did in school) "Um nothing, just learned stuff. And ate fruit."
"I don't like (swim) teacher Mike. I like girls."

Malapropisms...
(after head-butting Daddy in the groin) "Sorry, Daddy. Sorry for doing a butt-head."
(this is only funny if you know Cantonese) "I love bo-hai, it's my favorite. More bo-hai, please." Basically, he meant to say spinach (bo-cai), and instead he said sneakers (bo-hai).

Money...
(when bill arrives at a restaurant) "Daddy, you pay for it!"
"Mommy, you get on the computer so you can make money and buy things."
(at a fountain) "Mommy, you got pennies? I want to throw some money away."

My Favorite...
"Ahem, Mommy, excuse me. I love you very much."

Universal Truths About Pregnancy

2009-02-14T21:13:00.000-08:00

My cousin A is pregnant and has asked me for the inside scoop on pregnancy. She told me there are too many books out there, and it's kind of scary all the information that's available. So I've been thinking about what advice to give her. I don't want to steer you wrong, A, so after a lot of thought, here are the universal truths about pregnancy:

1. Every pregnancy is different. This is why there are thousands of books out there on the topic. What happened during my pregnancy may not happen during yours. Heck, your first pregnancy may be very different from your second pregnancy (if you end up with more than one). That is why my list of universal truths is so short. And it's also why you should not worry about swollen ankles, gestational diabetes, or stretch marks until they actually happen to you.

2. This is the last time it will all revolve around you, so enjoy it! Right now, everyone wants to know how you're feeling, if you're excited, what your plans are. During pregnancy is when chivalry, once extinct, will make brief appearances in friends, family, and strangers, as people offer to let you go ahead of them in line in the store, take the last seat in a waiting area or bus (but I know you never take the bus, so nevermind about that), or offer to carry things or get things on your behalf. Once that baby comes, it becomes all about the baby.

3. No matter how big or small you were before you got pregnant, your pregnancy clothes will not fit you well at the end of the pregnancy. Don't bother spending a lot of money on third trimester threads, just find a pair of sweats that will stay on with the waist band under the belly and live in those for the last few weeks.

4. If labor scares the heck out of you, that's totally normal. And yes, it is going to hurt. There is no breathing technique that makes it hurt less (but holding your breath isn't going to do you or your baby any favors, so make sure you breathe). But it's the only pain in the world that you are supposed to have and so your body is designed to handle it. Also, you will be so desperate not to have that baby inside you any more, you would gladly do anything - labor, walk on hot coals, crawl through broken glass, whatever - to get it out of you.

5. How ever your pregnancy is going, you will do yourself a great favor by always heeding what your body tells you. Do you feel tired? Go sleep. Are you hungry? Then eat. When you're feeling full, stop eating. Don't try to be a hero or have the attitude that you are not going to let the pregnancy get in the way of your normal modus operandi. Most people will be understanding if you have to duck out of a meeting early or are too tired to hang (see truth #2). After the baby is here, there will be times aplenty when you won't be able to eat, sleep, pee, shower, or do anything when you feel like it, so just listen to your body now.

6. There is a lot of "stuff" that people say is a must-have for the baby, but I guarantee you will have too much stuff and not all the right stuff either. It won't matter how many showers you have or how carefully you research the consumer reports. You will get something that the baby will absolutely refuse or find yourself needing something you never imagined you would need. It's actually better to get less stuff now and wait until you know your baby a little better.

(Not really a universal truth, but my 2 cents on truth #6) On my list of essentials to have before the baby arrives: infant carrier/car seat, infant carrier stroller frame ("snap'n'go"), diaper pail, diaper changing pad, swing, diaper bag, burp cloths, baby clothes (side-snap t-shirts, cap, full-body footed sleeper - with snap closures are the best), 3-4 large swaddling blankets, baby monitor, and a washer and dryer. Except for the washer and dryer and the diapering stuff, borrow what you can. Everything else you can get later as you learn about baby's likes and dislikes and also your own habits and parenting routines.

Other than that, read a few books, take in the things that apply to you, and don't worry about the stuff that doesn't. I recommend you get an understanding of the labor process and become informed about common scenarios and the options for handling them, but it doesn't have to be a childbirth class. You could hire a doula (I highly recommend this), or talk to someone who can give you detailed information, but it should be via a means that allows you to ask questions (ie, don't just read a book or watch a video). I also recommend you take a "baby care basics" class (one that shows you how to bathe a baby, clip his/her nails, change diapers, recognize different types of crying, etc) and a breastfeeding class (if you plan to breastfeed, which I also recommend).

I'm sure there is way more wisdom out there than what I've mentioned, so if you have a tip for my cousin A, please share in the comments. Thanks!

Stuff I Love (Retro edition): Fisher-Price Papasan Cradle Swing

2009-02-09T22:56:00.000-08:00

This one is for you, A... One of my dearest cousins is with child and getting excited about the imminent arrival of her baby. Or at least shopping for her baby. She asked me what stuff she needs to have. So I'm going back to the newborn days to write up on this LIFE-SAVING baby gizmo.

What I Love: Fisher-Price Papasan Cradle Swing (prices vary depending on design, Nature's Touch model, $139 USD). We have lent ours to at least 4 other sets of parents and they have all thanked us for saving their lives and the lives of their babies (whom they would have thrown out the window after the 5th hour of colicky wailing).

Why I Love It: Have I already mentioned that it's a life-saver? First of all, sooooo cute! There are multiple designs available now: the Nature's Touch model (neutral colors with leaves and birds and bugs on the mobile), the Starlight model (pastel colored stars), and who knows what other designs by now. And the seat is extremely soft and plush. Many a day I watched my kids snuggled in the swing and wished they made a grown-up version.

Before I go further, every expectant parent needs to know this about newborns: they like to be rocked/swung. They all like it, trust me. I haven't met a baby that didn't enjoy the gentle lull of a swinging motion. My son liked being rocked side to side. My daughter liked being rocked back and forth. But they all love being rocked. Which brings me to reason #2 to love this swing: it goes both back and forth AND side to side. You won't know which way your baby likes to be rocked until s/he comes out, so hedge your bets with a swing that goes both ways.

Reason #3: it has diversions. Some have lights on the top. Some have a mirror. They all have a mobile and music. Some can be plugged into a wall outlet (highly recommend this because it can chew up batteries). Some let you download MP3's (mmm, because you always thought your iPod is too small and you need a bigger device for playing your favorite tunes?).

A tip for you: pick the model with the features you like. Definitely do NOT pick the model based on whether it matches the nursery decor and such (it won't go there, it will end up wherever you spend the most time and will probably get pretty worn). Pick the model based on which of the gadgety-goos drive you the least crazy. Baby won't know the difference one way or another, but if the sound of toucans and monkeys makes you go bonkers, you best not get the jungle design. Right, this was me hating the sound of crickets and chirping birds, yet I picked the Nature's Touch model which featured... you guessed it, crickets and chirping birds.

Other caveats: there is another Fisher-Price Swing that goes in both directions; it's not a papasan swing, but rather one with a more upright seat. This is NOT the swing to get because it is harder for baby to sleep in this one due to its sitting angle and the molded doo-hickey that goes between the legs to keep the baby in. And inducing sleep is a key function of a swing, no?

And lastly, the swing has a large footprint. Yes, the legs can fold together, but more for moving it around than storing. But you should just clear out the space you need now, because you will love this swing if you get it.

Tales of the High Seas, or the Perils of Cruising with Small Children, Call It What You Want, Just Don't Call It Vacation

2009-01-19T12:04:00.001-08:00

There are times when things go so inexplicably awry that there is no point in trying to assign blame or divine the underlying root cause. You just chalk it up to the universe telling you that it is your turn to - in the words of a close friend - serve as a cautionary tale to others.

So it was with our recent holiday vacation cruising in the Caribbean. Now you say, "Shut up! You're on a cruise in the Caribbean. I so do not weep for you." OK, save your tears for the end of this post.

Let us begin by reviewing that darling son E and adorable daughter V are ages three years and nineteen months, respectively. The cruise was my mother's idea, because she had already planned to cruise with my aunts and uncles and she "couldn't bear to be away from the grandchildren on Christmas." So she bought our cruise tickets back in March.

Fast forward to the week before we leave. My cousin, who lives down the street and shall remain nameless, had agreed to dog sit for us back at Thanksgiving. Lo and behold, on the Monday night before we leave, his mother calls to say he can no longer do it. Excuse me? The reason: a much better offer to go snow-boarding with his buddies. I call back and as politely as I can, light into my aunt about responsibility and giving enough notice and what are you teaching your son when you don't even make him call his own cousin back and tell her in person that you are bailing at the last minute. Thus begins the frantic search for dog-sitters. Calls are made to kennels, friends, other relatives. But let's face it, it's the week before Christmas and our friends have plans and the kennels are already booked. Then fate intervenes: a friend from our Furry Friends volunteer group offers to have the dogs stay with her. The day before we leave, we get a Christmas miracle. The dogs ended up having a wonderful time staying with their buddy Rosie.

We are duped into thinking that the dog-sitting miracle and the extremely well-behaved children on the flight out to Florida are signs that the cruise is going to be fun. I even jokingly tell my husband, "The flight out is going to be the highlight of this whole trip." Little did I know...

It would be wrong to say that the whole trip was miserable. We had some really fun moments (zip-lining in Costa Rica, hanging out with my family, shopping in Cozumel) insterspersed between:

E getting a rash over his entire body for the first week of this 12-day adventure. We never figured out what caused it, but he was itchy and grumpy. We had to restrict his diet (due to his numerous food allergies) in a vain attempt to stem the red bumps and the incessant scratching. E looked at me like I was the second coming of Hitler when I had to tell him no more Fruit Loops for breakfast or bread sticks at dinner (due to his mild wheat allergy).

In addition to the rash, E also got a yeast infection. Yes, there. Poor guy. He couldn't even walk in the Grand Cayman because it hurt so much. He strolled around in V's stroller. On Christmas Eve, I took him to the ship's doctor, who prescribed Vagisil and oral antibiotics. Total cost of visit: $100 - the most expensive tube of Vagisil I've ever bought.

E's health issues did not end there. He got food poisoning in Costa Rica (as did I and a few others), and ended up puking that night.

We tried to take E to the ship's children's program, the "Fun Factory", which had craft stations, video games, board games, a wading pool, a ball pit, slides, and a stage and costumes for pretend play. But E, being shy and adverse to trying new things, did not like it. We tried to entice him to go many times the first few days until he finally told me matter-of-factly, "Mommy, I don't like the Fun Factory. It's not fun for me, it's not my kind of fun." Well, how could I make him go back after he told me that? But don't think it wasn't the looming threat every time he acted out. One night, he was throwing a tantrum at dinner. A girl at another table also had a screaming fit, and we saw her father storm out of the dining room with the girl kicking and screaming over his shoulder. "See that? He's taking her to the Fun Factory because she's not listening to her Mommy and Daddy! Maybe we should take you, too!"

Not to be outdone by her big brother, V had issues of her own. Like screaming at the top of her lungs every night at about 3am. Sometimes for a long time. Once, she cried so long that neighboring cabins complained to Guest Services. At 4:30am I got a call from the concierge asking if we could do something about our baby. "Please pick her up or something," the lady on the other end of the phone said. Oh, picking her up? Was that the secret to making her stop? We fed her, changed her, rocked her, walked her, shushed her, sang to her, gave her her monkey buddy and turned on her music box - all we needed to do was pick her up? You can imagine how we received that feedback after dealing with her screaming for 90 minutes.

V also refused to sit in her high chair at meal times. She would take all that fancy silverware and fling it. Or scream. She's good at screaming because she gets lots of practice. My husband and I ended up having to take turns eating while the other held darling daughter, lest she throw a colossal tantrum. (The Fun Factory threat did not work on her, as they do not take kids who are not potty-trained.)

Among the things both children protested: being forced to dress up for dinner; having to eat dinner at 6:00pm, at which time they are not actually hungry; having fruit juice restricted from their diet after day 8, when we realized that the crash from a sugar high made all the aforementioned worse; having only one channel to watch on the stateroom TV (Cartoon Network - en Espanol! "Mommy, what are they saying?!"); having to wake up by a certain time to get to breakfast; and generally, having to spend all day and night with Mommy and Daddy (I heard, "Mommy, I don't love you. Go away! I want Grandma!" more times than any mother should have to hear in her life). Actually, I'm with you on that one, kids!

Where was Grandma in all of this, you may ask? The mastermind behind all of this was there, caving in to every request (candy canes and ice cream for dinner? Why not - it's Christmas time!) and winding the kids up to a frenzy so that they could be returned to us in a hyper and truculent state. She did baby sit for us, for which we were very grateful, but most of the time, she was hanging with my family (Mah Jong rules!) or going out on excursions.

Ironically, on Christmas day, my parents booked dinner at the specialty (read: fancy-pants and not suitable for kids) restaurant on-board, and we spent Christmas dinner on our own. It was a formal dinner, which the kids hated being dressed for, and I can't say that I was thrilled with dressing up either, seeing as how the clasp on V's shoes got caught on my cocktail dress and ruined it.

But I can't even blame my mom, because she really thought we would all have fun. And she paid for the tickets. I just have to look back on it and try to laugh. We laugh because if we don't, we'll cry.

So if you are thinking of going on a cruise with children under four, you may want to think twice. As for us, no more cruising until the kids are at least five. I think next time, I'd rather go stay with Rosie and the dogs. That sounds more relaxing.

Fevers and Cold Sweats

2008-12-01T23:33:00.000-08:00

When E was five weeks old, we had to send him to the hospital due to a high fever (over 103). My poor baby spent three days in the hospital, where he was hooked up to an IV, got round-the-clock Tylenol dosage, and three spinal taps. I heard he was really good about the taps; I don't know, I could not bear to be there so hubby had to accompany him.

What we've learned since is that E just gets fevers. His little body simply runs hot whenever he gets a cold. He has adapted, as have we. He can run a fever up to 101.5, and if you never touched him, you wouldn't think he was hot. He can carry on a conversation, play, and dance while he is running hot. And if he is anything under 101, we don't even bother to call the doctor; we just wait a few days for the fever to pass.

But when he gets a persistent fever that lasts for a week or more, I get the cold sweats. I know there is a reasonable explanation. But it doesn't assuage me. I start worrying that he has lymphoma or a brain tumor or the worst possible disease I can google.

Right now, he has had a fever for a week. We went to the doctor today, and she told me to bring him back if he hasn't broken the fever in two more days. Then it's back to the battery of tests: blood test, urine culture, chest x-ray. None of those tests have ever told me anything about what causes the fevers, which is enormously frustrating. The only consolation is that they confirm he doesn't have lymphoma.

Cross your fingers for E that he breaks his fever in the next 48 hours. And if that doesn't happen, cross your fingers that the blood tests don't come back indicating lymphoma.

Goodbye, Jerrianne

2008-11-14T22:34:00.000-08:00

I posted earlier about my friends' sweet yellow lab, Jerrianne, and her battle with cancer. I am heartbroken to say that Jerrianne passed away a week ago. I was so overcome by the news that I broke down in tears at work when I read the e-mail.

Although she was not my dog, and I only saw her once a month, she brought me (and my dogs) an immeasurable amount of joy with her gentle and loving personality. Goodbye, Jerrianne. I miss you.

If you have a dog (or any other pet), give him/her a hug to remind yourself that every day with your furry friend is precious.

My Last Word on Prop 8, I Promise!

2008-11-12T23:51:00.000-08:00

I have never been much of a political person, but this election year, in the midst of the presidential race and the economic crisis, I have found myself speaking out passionately against Proposition 8, which was the proposition on the California ballot to re-define marriage as between a man and woman, effectively invalidating all same-sex marriages. The proposition passed by such a narrow margin that the votes are still being tallied.

I have been surprised and saddened at how many of my friends and colleagues were undecided or in favor of this proposition, because this is 2008, and I thought that we were at a point where we could all recognize discrimination and take a stand to oppose it.

Every person has a right to express his or her opinion about gay marriage, but we don't have a right to impose our opinion into the constitution and thereby infringe on the rights of others.

So I am compelled to make one more appeal to anyone who supports inserting a discriminatory declaration in our state constitution, because it is never too late to speak up to repeal the proposition.

I ask how anyone can teach one's children that everyone is equal in the eyes of the Lord, that everyone deserves a fair shot, that prejudice is wrong, and to do unto others as you would have them treat you, and still support something that legally prohibits two people from declaring their love for one another.

I ask those who would never call an African-American a "nigger", a Chinese person a "chink", or a woman a "whore", why you think this small issue of semantics is not deeply hurtful.

I remind anyone whose spouse is not of the same race, that only a little more than 40 years ago, your love and relationship was not considered the norm and outlawed in almost half of the country.

Finally, I quote from the text upon which this great nation was built:

"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness...That whenever any form of government becomes destructive to these ends, it is the right of the people to alter or to abolish it...."

And I ask what greater pursuit of happiness there is than the right to marry whom one loves. How do we honestly say that we live by the tenets that forged this country if we are willing to deny someone his or her inalienable rights, simply because we don't fully understand their love. It is love, nevertheless.

Finding Guilt-Free "Me" Time

2008-10-15T23:39:00.000-07:00

Between a full-time job and two kids, there is precious little time to just enjoy myself. I find myself trying to do the little things that I like (blogging, exercising, catching up with my DVR) in the wee hours of the night.

My attempts to carve out "me time" during the evening hours when the kids are up are fraught with guilt. Am I ignoring the kids and somehow causing them psychological trauma? Am I over-burdening my husband by having him fly solo with the kids? Do my dogs miss me? OK, I know the answer to that last question is "yes".

I'm pretty sure my husband doesn't feel one iota of guilt when he goes out to see a Sharks game with his buddies, so why do I beat myself up over two once-a-month activities (Girls Night Out with the gal pals and a writing group)?

And I always feel like I need to fill it with something "productive" - working on the computer, working out, etc. Why can't I let my "me time" be taken up with a nice lazy activity, like napping? Lord knows I could use the extra sleep!

Someone please tell me the secret to finding some guilt-free time to myself!

Update on Jerrianne

2008-10-10T22:58:00.000-07:00

I heard from my friends last week that their baby Jerrianne (see previous post) does indeed have cancer. They removed her spleen and have her on chemo therapy. Jerrianne is looking happy and well in her pictures, but of course, my friends are feeling very bittersweet.

Thoughts and prayers for you, Jerrianne, and to your adoring family.

Grateful For The Four-Legged Kids

2008-09-20T22:33:00.001-07:00

E and V are so time-consuming and demanding that I have not had a chance to mention my first two kids: Lucy and Stubby. Both dogs are getting old now, and sometimes it takes a sad situation to remind me about my four-legged kids who love me just as much as the two-legged ones, if not more.

Our friends' dog Jerrianne recently had to have a biopsy, and our friends are still waiting to hear the results. If the growth on her spleen turns out to be cancer, she may have only one to six months to live. Jerrianne is only nine, two years younger than Lucy.

I feel so lucky that Lucy and Stubby are relatively healthy (so far) in their old age and active and loving life. They have accepted E and V into their pack, even though we spend considerably less time with them since the kids were born. They are wonderful dogs and wonderful first children for me. I'm so grateful to have them in my life. I can't even imagine how I could cope with our friends' situation.

So make a wish for, say a prayer, or however you commune with the universe, please ask for Jerrianne to be OK. Her parents are holding their breath and hoping that with enough love, their baby can heal.

Stuff I Love: Smashbox Sheer Focus Tinted Moisturizer

2008-09-19T22:17:00.000-07:00

Well, it's been a long time since I've doled out any loving. I have of late settled into a nice quiet routine, and nothing has given me a quantum leap in my quality of life, until now.

What I Love: Smashbox Sheer Focus Tinted Moisturizer ($30 USD 1.7 fl oz)

Why I Love It: Yes, I'm not a make-up girl. I still don't really know how to apply mascara without it looking goopy. Which is precisely why I like this product. It actually feels like moisturizer, that happens to have a sheer tint to it. It also has SPF 15 and anti-oxidants, which I need and you need, too, because, let's face it, we're getting old.

You may wonder what this is doing on my mommy blog. What does this have to do with parenting? It's because I don't get nearly enough sleep any more (guess why), and I can no longer roll out of bed looking decent to the world. And I am a better role model to my kids if I feel good. (Follow my train of thought here, we're almost at the destination.) And when I look better, I feel better.

Hey before I got fat(ter) and had fewer gray hairs and got at least six hours of sleep a night, I only needed moisturizer and lip balm before I left the house. Now I need just that little bit of help to make my skin tone even and lessen the under-eye circles. But I still hate that cakey feeling of foundation. So there you have it. This is the product for you if you hate wearing make-up as much as I do.

Yes, You Are My Performing Monkey

2008-09-12T16:28:00.000-07:00

Over the last month, I have seen the passing of my grandfather and the marriage of my little brother, and with those two events, a swarm of relatives come through our part of town. Many of them were meeting my kids for the first time.

Of course I am going to show them off, they are so cute! This mommy is proud of her munchkins, especially since I never thought I had the stuff to be a parent in the first place. And especially when the kids are at such cute stages in their life: E, with his adorable pre-school stream-of-consciousness non-sequitors, and V, with her flirty charm and drunken-master walking.

So naturally, when the parade of aunts, uncles, and cousins came to town, I wanted them to see all the things my kids do that make me laugh, make me proud, and make me melt. Which means of course that they did NONE of the things that make me laugh or melt. Would E shake his booty? Would V blow kisses? Not a chance. At one point, I asked E to say something in Mandarin, to which he replied with an icy glare that said, "I am not your performing monkey! Leave me alone!"

Is it wrong for a mother to want to share the joy? I guess they give private performances only.

Milestones!

2008-07-21T14:00:00.000-07:00

It's been a busy month, and hence, I have gone AWOL on the blogging front lately. But a few things happened over the last month that are worthy of acknowledgment.

First, V is finally walking. Congratulations to my little diva for finally becoming bi-pedal! Granted, she walks like she's drunk most of the time. And she's not that steady. But having tasted the freedom of walking, nothing can deter her - not tripping on her own feet, getting knocked down by the dogs (or E), or the accidental run-in with furniture (that f**ker came out of nowhere!).

Secondly, E is pooping in the potty! I had pretty much given up, but I caught him making that tell-tale face one day and whisked him onto the potty seat. After he realized that he wouldn't fall in and get sucked to the ocean (like his Lightning McQueen undies), he became more open to putting his poo-poo in the potty. And in case you're wondering, he gets 5 stickers, "potty candy" (aka, fruit leather), and a trip to the car wash for his efforts.

Both of the munchkins are very proud of their achievements, as am I! Mommy's tired arms thank V, and the planet is happy E is putting fewer diapers in the landfill.

Anywhere But There...

2008-06-12T23:42:00.000-07:00

The trials of E's potty training continue. He has gotten fairly good at letting us know when he needs to pee. But it seems like he will poop anywhere but in the potty. Argh!

We have tried everything to sway him, from praising, singing songs on the toilet, playing games, giving him a special toy to play with on the toilet, and bribing him with food, TV priveleges, candy, toys. We've swirled more dirty underpants in the toilet (and accidentally flushed one pair away) than I can count.

I've been reading every article I can find online, borrowed countless potty training books, and even signed up for a personalized "potty training" consultant (they really do have consultants for everything, don't they!). One piece of advice we haven't tried is to let him watch while Daddy poops on the toilet. I'll give you one guess why we haven't tried this yet.

The articles say that for boys, they should watch Daddy, and girls should watch Mommy. Since Daddy was reluctant, I gave it a go myself. I realized why they recommend having your child watch the parent of the same gender; E spent the entire session asking me where did Mommy's penis go. "Is it hiding?" "Is it sleeping?" "You forgot it?" "It fell in the water?" "You flushed it like Lightning McQueen underpants?" He didn't even notice what I was doing because he was so pre-occupied with the whereabouts of my penis.

So we're going to have to convince Daddy to let E watch him take a dump. I think I am going to have to bribe him with food, TV priveleges, candy, or toys.

I Wanna Potty Like It's 2006

2008-05-27T22:53:00.000-07:00

We started potty-training E over the Memorial Day long weekend. This is going to be a long and arduous process, fraught with many, many, many, many, many loads of laundry. This weekend alone, we ran over 13 loads of laundry (which included one t-shirt that Grandma brought back from China and promptly turned all of E's sheets into a mottled pink color).

We wanted to start the potty-training earlier, but my second pregnancy waylaid our plans. I wish we had had more fortitude at the time and just forged on when we had originally planned. At 18 months, we would have been potty-training a much less willful and stubborn creature.

The other challenge we are facing is that stand-alone potty seats are really too small for a 3 year-old, but a toilet ring on a regular toilet is still a bit intimidating. E looks either like a Lilliputian or Brobdignagian depending on which toilet he's on.

But he seems to be making some progress; today he only had accidents upon waking in the morning and after his nap. If anyone has any tips on how to get past the bed-wetting, let me know, thanks!

Shout Out To Working Families On Their Own

2008-05-27T22:46:00.000-07:00

After a month without my nanny, and both sets of grandparents travelling at the same time, I've really developed an appreciation for all the parents who raise little ones on their own. No family, no hired help. Moms who hold down jobs while raising a child? SUPERMOMS. Single mothers? WONDER-WOMEN.

I don't know how I came out on the other side of holding down a full-time job, parenting, and being without my usual support network, having only this deepened respect and negligible psychological trauma to show for it. I bow down before all you mothers and fathers who do this day in and day out. I'm not worthy.

A Belated Happy Birthday, V!

2008-05-24T17:59:00.000-07:00

I swore that I would not be one of those moms who lets child #2 get short-changed, but inevitably, it's hard to give undivided attention to the sweet low-maintenance baby when the high-strung three year-old is screaming his head off most of the time.

And so here I am, over a week after V's first birthday, finally acknowledging her big day. And V was as sweet and low maintenance as ever on her birthday. So low maintenance, in fact, that some people forgot she was even at her own party! That Grandma stole her away to a corner and monopolized her time had a little something to do with it, too.

A belated happy birthday to my wonderful daughter. Even though I may not get as much time with you, you have my whole heart.

Grandma's Hip

2008-05-10T23:31:00.000-07:00

Do you remember when you used to diss your mom for not "getting" your music? My mom used to tell me to turn down my music and ask my why I would listen to all that noise. (Admittedly, my love for euro-pop confections like a-ha and Erasure wasn't all that cool to my peers, either.) I, in turn, questioned why my mom tortured me on the drive to school with her AM-Gold 70's nuggets like Air Supply and Leo Sayer.

So it came as a shock to me when I heard my mom's new cell phone ringtone today: Rihanna's "Please Don't Stop the Music". How could she be such a square when I was growing up and be so hip now? When I relayed this to my friends at a baby shower, half of them replied, "Who's Rihanna?" I see the square is on the other foot now.

It turns out that no longer being consumed with school functions and extra-curricular chauffeuring has allowed my mother the time to catch up on all her People magazines and learn to use her iPod, while my friends are all becoming pop culture misfits. I guess being a mom really does make you "lame".

I'm going to fight the dorkiness of being a mommy to the end. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go get me some Applebottom jeans and them boots with the fur....

OMG, I think that last line officially makes me a dork.

My Boobs Don't Surrender

2008-04-28T23:11:00.000-07:00

Well, I thought that I would be done with the breastfeeding by now. With V off to daycare while the nanny went on vacation, and V's loss of interest in nursing, I figured we'd be on formula by now. I had resigned myself to accept it and even started to look forward to the day when I could wear a real bra again and eat whatever I wanted again (oh, my kingdom for a Vietnamese coffee!).

As it turns out, being away from Mommy all day has rekindled V's desire to nurse. How's that for irony! My boobs have petered out during the day. They just have no love for the pump. But morning, night, and weekends, they seem to meet V's needs.

Of course, now V has a few more teeth, and I was really wanting that Vietnamese coffee, so now I'm wondering when I can wean. Isn't that the way it always goes?

Surprise!

2008-03-28T23:46:00.000-07:00

After E's birthday party, we sat down together to open presents. E received a variety of gifts, from puzzles to baseball equipment to art supplies to toy cars. I was probably even more excited than he was at the things he received that I have an interest in: paints and brushes, puzzles, and more track kits for his GeoTrax collection. I envisioned us painting together, putting together new train track configurations, and laughing and having fun conversation as we assembled the puzzles.

The baseball, basketball, and golf sets? Meh. Maybe there is a gift receipt and I could return them for something I knew E enjoyed more. After all, he has shown no interest in sports whatsoever.

So imagine my surprise when the thing he wanted to play with most was his T-ball set! And a double surprise that he was actually really good at hitting the whiffle ball. My son, a natural athlete? Who knew??? He and his daddy were having so much fun playing T-ball on the front lawn that I couldn't help but start to like baseball a little more just watching them play together.

Then E said, "I want Mommy hit the ball." Oh no, baseball is not my thing; I was Miss Picked-Last-By-Team-Captains-During-PE from kindergarten to my senior year in high school. I was enjoying being a spectator, and I really didn't want him to see his mommy striking out.

I got my third surprise of the day when I was able to hit the ball that the machine pitched to me. And after a few swings, I was hitting line drives between first and second base. Guess who is playing with E out on the front lawn these days? Daddy is happy to catch a quick nap after work while Mommy and E play T-ball.

And to think I almost returned that toy! So this is a little reminder to myself not to impose my own likes and dislikes on my kids, and also to keep an open mind about what time with them can teach me about myself as well.

Under Pressure

2008-03-22T23:24:00.000-07:00

The rat race starts early here in the Silicon Valley. Parents cram their children's days with extra-curricular activities in order to get them into the right grammar school so they can get into the right high school so they can get into the right college. Children end up with tremendous pressure on their slight shoulders and little time to be kids.

My niece P is a prime example. She is currently enrolled in one of the most academically rigorous schools in the area. She also takes gymnastics, swimming, ice skating, and Chinese. Her mother wants to enroll her in a dance class and music class as well. By the way, my niece is three.

My sister-in-law says that P enjoys all these activities, and it's better for her to learn new things than just sit around and watch TV all day. All these things are fun as well as educational, and P is a happy, bright girl - she's not a basketcase or sullen from her full schedule, so what's the problem?

Well, since you asked....

I see two main problems: (1) Kids at P's age can't necessarily articulate that they are feeling pressure or stress, but that doesn't mean they don't feel it, and (2) if one's child is in a rigorous academic school setting from 8am - 5pm and taking four extra-curricular activities in addition, how much time does she spend with her parents?

Let's talk about problem #2 first, because some would argue that there is extensive driving time involved and parent participation in the classes. In P's case, there is a lot of driving time, but since she is three, most of the extra-curricular classes are no longer parent participation (for which my sister-in-law is extremely grateful). I don't know about you, but I consider the time I shuttle my kids around a good opportunity to chat with them (if they're in the mood to talk). Quality time together, however, it is not.

Children still learn primarily by example, and their most significant role models are their parents. So instead of plopping P into an ice skating class, why not take her ice skating and have a good time? And herein lies my biggest beef: the use of extra-curricular activities as a substitute for real parenting. My sister-in-law has often said that she doesn't have patience to answer all of P's questions or to wait for her while she learns something new. She claims that it's better for P to spend time with "trained professionals".

And that brings me back to problem #1. Children at P's age can't express the complexity of what they feel; they can say they are happy, sad, or mad. But they do perceive everything, even if they can't say it. Kids know when their parents are fighting even if the parents don't fight in front of them. They can tell in a very short time who will give them what they want, who will not listen to what they have to say, and who has patience with them. They can certainly tell if their parents would rather not spend time with them.

And they innately want to please their parents and gain their parents' affection and attention. So P may say that she enjoys doing all those things because some of those activities are fun for her, but she may also say she enjoys them because she senses that "Mommy is happy if I go do this thing". Either way, she will only be able to say that she likes it. The bottom line is that taking on that many activities would be hard for an older child, a teenager, or even an adult. Why would anyone expect that a three year-old could handle it?

My Boobs Surrender

2008-03-15T22:57:00.000-07:00

Back in January, I weaned V from six nursing sessions a day to five. After all, she was eight months old by then and eating a variety of solids. The plan was to cut one nursing every other month until I got down to three times a day. The plan was solid: four nursings at ten months, then three nursings at a year, and then I would let V determine when to wean altogether.

It turns out that V is ready now, at 10 months old. Mornings and bedtimes, she is a voracious little eater at the breast, but the rest of the day... meh. She'd rather crawl, babble, suck on her fingers, grab the nearest toy (that would be defined as anything in her reach), or just stare at me and laugh.

Like any mother would do, my first instinct was to blame myself: Am I not making enough milk? Is it something in my diet? Am I too stressed out from work to let down? (Hey, when did my Mom rent a space in my inner monologue?!) Then like any good Chinese mom, I blamed V: Is she not latching well because of her teething and getting frustrated? Is her wiggling preventing the let down from happening?

It turns out she's just ready early, not like E who I breastfed until he was 15 months old. Not that I haven't tried everything I could think of to prolong the breastfeeding. I have tried pumping to increase supply, as well as fenugreek (which it turns out can cause massive diarrhea in about 10% of the people who take it, and I'm one of those lucky 10%). I tried sensory deprivation, feeding her in a pitch black room with no sound (that would be the toilet closet of one of our bathrooms - very sanitary eh?). I tried feeding her consistently at the same time.

It's only been six weeks since V lost interest, so obviously I haven't tried anything for that long a duration, but between the fenugreek and the sensory deprivation, I can sit on my toilet for only so long. I finally decided that if she doesn't want it, why should I continually try to force it on her? It's just causing me more stress.

So I still offer her the breast, and if she's not interested, I pump what little I can. I just bought some formula yesterday, and she seems OK drinking it from a bottle or cup. The formula is still my backup for now, but I've finally come to terms with the fact that V will probably be fully weaned by the time she turns one.

I don't know why it seems so bittersweet that she's not interested anymore. Breastfeeding is kind of a pain. And I still have our early morning and late night cuddle-time. Maybe I just miss all the extra calories I would burn. Maybe I have been brainwashed by the lactation nazis who say that mothers who don't breastfeed for the entire first year don't really love their children.

But at the end of the day, the one person for whom the breastfeeding matters most is interested in doing something else, so if she is giving me permission to let it go, I guess I should graciously accept it.

Happy Birthday, E!

2008-03-12T22:55:00.000-07:00

Today is my son E's third birthday. He was acting very "3" today, but all in all, he was well-behaved and gracious in accepting all the special exceptions he was granted in honor of his big day: opening presents; TV after dinner; ice cream (ok, soy ice cream) for dessert. He even consented to sit on the potty twice tonight in a cursory show of cooperation in our potty training efforts.

Until I got pregnant, I didn't really think that I would have kids (neither did my friends). And after I got pregnant, I wasn't sure if the whole mommy thing would take. So imagine my surprise to find that I love being a mom, and that on this day, I feel like I am the one who got the best present of all.

Happy Birthday, E!

I Never Thought I Would Be That Kind of Model

2008-03-05T21:50:00.000-08:00

I confess that I am addicted to supermodel reality TV. America's Next Top Model and Make Me A Supermodel are my guilty pleasures. I guess it's because I feel that I've missed my calling to be a supermodel (if you have seen me, you would know that I kid - I'm being funny, not delusional). But I often find myself yelling at the girls in these competitions, "You better work that runway, girlfriend!" "Remember to sell the garment you are modeling!" "That one has no idea how to pose for the camera."

Supermodel as a profession sounds great, doesn't it? I used to have lofty career aspirations, too (although never absurd ones such as supermodel or pop star, like most girls do today). But something weird happened after I had kids: I stopped caring about career climbing. It used to be that when my manager asked me what my goals are, I had ideas about the next promotion, getting on the right "track" (leadership track, management track, etc).

If you ask me now what my goal is, it's to be a good role model for my kids. That means being a kind person, being good for the planet, having integrity, demonstrating a positive outlook in life, and following through on the things that matter.

My career aspirations these days revolve around how I incorporate those role model qualities into my job. It can be especially hard to demonstrate a positive outlook when one is surrounded by office politics and climbers who are only working towards that next promotion. At the same time, there is something liberating about not caring about all of that stuff and just focusing on how to be the person I want my children to admire and emulate.

When I think about it, being a person that others look up to is a pretty worthwhile ambition, why hasn't it been my goal all along?

When Did I Become Boring?

2008-02-19T22:32:00.000-08:00

A few friends from high school had our monthly moms' night out recently. This time, we decided to invite one of our friends who is still single, so we tried our best not to talk mommy talk. After all, this was our chance to get out of the mommy role and be interesting, vibrant, intelligent, modern women. But it ended up being the most difficult exercise to talk about something besides poopy diapers, when Disney on Ice is coming to town, and how to get one's toddler to have a decent nap.

I drove home in an abject state of disbelief and horror; I have become one of those people, talking ad nauseum about their kids. When did this happen? I went to a good college. I hold down a challenging job at an industry-leading Fortune 500 company. I have interesting opinions on the world around me. At least, I used to.

Aren't we having an election this year? The war is still going on in Iraq. China is doing all sorts of weird things as it frantically prepares to host the Olympics. The Giants staged a major upset over the Patriots in the Super Bowl. And Britney Spears has gone nine kinds of crazy since shaving her head. So why can't I have a conversation about anything more interesting than the Little Gym class into which I just enrolled E?

We ended the evening by inviting our single friend to keep joining us, because we really miss seeing her and because her presence helps steer the conversation to non-mommy topics. But just to encourage her to come again, we promised next month we would see a movie instead (hopefully one that is rated R), so that there would be a much smaller chance of slipping into mommy talk.

The Mom with the Most Balls

2008-02-02T23:28:00.000-08:00

My friend, who is expecting her second baby later this year, asked me how one is able to raise two children. With defeat misting up in her eyes and a crack in her voice, she confessed to me, "I don't think I can do this. I'm already such a bad Mom now with only one. How will I be able to handle two?" She continued, "You are so much better than me: you work full-time, you run the household, you have two kids, and you're still breastfeeding...Gosh, you do it all."

I had to apologize to her, if anything in my deportment implied that I could, and in fact, did do it all. Under the surface, we are all frantically trying to hold it together. My only advantage over my friend is that, in my line of work, the ability to bullshit is called upon daily, so I am better at faking an air of competence.

There is this myth that the modern woman can balance career, family, and self, like those Chinese acrobats spinning countless plates on sticks. In reality, it is more of a constant juggling act to be a mom today, grasping at one thing and tossing something else off to be dealt with on another day. And we women tend to compare ourselves to each other- as if we were cars or appliances, assigning a value to ourselves based on who is juggling the most. But the fact of the matter is that it's a silly way to judge your worth as a mother. At the end of the day, the mom with the most balls in the air isn't the winner, she is the most exhausted one of us all.

It's much better to know how many balls you can juggle and set your limits accordingly. That doesn't mean you can only have three balls if that's all you can juggle; it means delegating someone to hold on to a few balls for you every now and then. I have learned that the secret to maximizing yourself as a mother is to set limits, ask for help when you need it, and accept assistance graciously when it's offered. And on those days when you find yourself having to juggle more than you are comfortable with, put a smile on your face and fake it.

Going to the Dark Side

2008-01-26T13:23:00.001-08:00

Every mother has this epiphany at some point in her life. Maybe your child is raising hell on a day when you're just not in the mood to cope, or maybe you just had a bad day and unwittingly took it out on your family. But at some point, in a fit of anger, disappointment, or just plain exhaustion, you will say something to your child, and those words that come out might be in your voice, but they aren't yours. They are YOUR MOTHER'S. Then you realize in horror, "I've become my Mom!!!"

It's particularly bad for me, because it reaffirms that I am now a "Chinese Mom". The Chinese Mom is an interesting breed of mother, one part dragon lady, one part Jewish Mom. My mother is a prototypical example: she is 5 feet 4 inches of impossibly high expectations and overwhelming love of the smothering variety, wrapped in cashmere and topped with a short fuse. She is always at the ready with her unsolicited advice and quick to voice her sheer disappointment with you at every turn.

So I've been upset with myself for being so disappointed in the lack of progress my son E is making in the potty-training area. E will be three in March, and he is still refusing to poop in the potty. He is a whiz at peeing (no pun intended), but he just will not poop anywhere but in his diaper. Recently, after a particularly messy poopy incident (my husband was cleaning poop off the ceiling, and we'll leave it at that), I was so frustrated, I actually channelled my mother when I told E, "You are big boy now! You need to learn to poop in the potty! You know how to do this, do this so Mommy will love her big boy."

What?! Did I just imply that I would withhold love from my son if he wouldn't poop in the potty?! What's wrong with me? Oh yeah, I'm a Chinese Mom. The poop on the ceiling was a little scary, but not as scary as my reaction to it.

These days, I try to scrutinize my emotions a bit before expressing them to the kids. The self-censorship goes like this: "Is this something Mom would say to me? If yes, then it's probably better left unsaid." It's hard to fight those Chinese mom genes, but I remember how crappy my mother could make me feel when I was little, so it's a battle worth fighting.

Ruining the Planet - One Purchase at a Time

2008-01-21T22:25:00.000-08:00

One of my colleagues sent me a curious link to http://www.storyofstuff.com/, which turns out to be an educational, provocative, effective, and thoroughly depressing piece of propaganda about how American consumerism is ruining the planet. After viewing the video, I wondered in horror, "Am I mucking up planet Earth whenever I impulse buy a cute shirt for my son at Target or go for the 2-for-1 special on Chex cereal at the grocery store?"

The basic tenet of storyofstuff.com is that Americans, in their never-ending quest for a good bargain, feed the behemoth of Big Corporations, who lure us into buying more crap in their never-ending quest for making more money. There is conspiracy theory that manufacturers design their products to look great new but break often enough so that people will buy more. These companies also market their stuff to make people feel like they have to have the newest thing to feel worthwhile.

Watch the video and make up your own mind, but if you feel a twinge of guilt at potentially leaving a planet of "X"-ed out trees and dead fish for your kids, what recourse do you have? Does saving the planet mean that you have to be one of those fashion victims on "What Not To Wear", sporting 10-year-old clothing because you shouldn't buy any more just for the sake of vanity? Do you have to use a relic of a computer with Windows 2.1 so that you don't create e-waste?

Saving the world is like going on a diet: we all know it's good for us, and the steps are pretty simple, but doing them is hard unless they can be easily incorporated into our everyday lives. The section titled "Another Way" on the web site has some good suggestions that are easy to follow. Here are some more:

You don't need a phone that takes pics, plays ringtones, syncs with your e-mail, and allows you to access your Wii. My cell phone is 3 years old. It doesn't text message, it doesn't take pictures, it doesn't play MP3 files. I already have other stuff that I bought that does all those things. Resist the urge to get the newest gadget. Where do you think that cell phone goes when you toss it for a new one? It's always less wasteful to make do with the things you have already purchased.

Say NO to take-out. One weekend when my husband and I were both sick, we got take out at every meal because we were too tired to cook. We filled up 2 kitchen garbage cans with empty take-out containers. I had a major guilt trip when I saw how much trash we made.

Buy in bulk when you can. This doesn't necessarily mean do your grocery shopping at your local Costco, although those warehouse stores are not necessarily bad. I mean buy items contained in the least amount of packaging. For example, I bring a clean plastic container to the store with me and buy my flour in bulk. Try not to buy stuff that is individually packaged; rather, buy the food in a single larger container, and re-use small plastic containers to take individual servings on the go.

Read the label. Where was the item produced? What is it made from? How much does it cost? If the price is too good to be true, it probably is. You're better off buying a quality item that costs a little more than a cheap one that may break more easily or be unsafe for you or your family.

I'm still working on the "make do" and "buy less" part when it comes to shoes.

Stuff I Love: Simple Treats Cookbook by Ellen Abraham

2008-01-19T13:51:00.000-08:00

I have said before that I always imagined baking cookies with my kids as one of those lazy Saturday activities that would become a cherished tradition in our family, and how disappointed I was to find out that both my kids are allergic to eggs and dairy (my son allergic to wheat as well). Well, I need not give up the dream anymore because I found a great cookbook that lets us bake our cake and eat it, too!

What I Love: Simple Treats: A Wheat-free, Dairy-free Guide to Scrumptious Baked Goods by Ellen Abraham. That title says it all, don't you think?

Why I Love It: The recipes are really good and easy to follow. OK, you will never mistake the cookies that come out of this cookbook for a Specialty's cookie, but they are pretty tasty nonetheless. They are at least good enough to fool you into thinking that they are a regular home-baked goodie.

My son's favorite recipe is the oatmeal-raisin cookie. He loves that he gets to pour the raisins into the batter, and he likes to watch them puff up as they bake. Last night, we made the vanilla cupcakes together, and he told me that he wanted to make more to share with his friends at school. The brownie recipe is awesome as well, rich, gooey, and chewy.

In addition to the great recipes, I love that the recipes make nice, small batches (each batch makes about 15 1-ounce cookies), that all the recipes use no refined sugar or saturated fats, and that the nutritional information is included at the bottom of each recipe.

I bought my copy at Amazon.com, and it was $10 well spent.

The Marathon That Never Ends

2008-01-18T23:54:00.000-08:00

I recently had dinner with a single friend of mine, and when we exchanged our "what's new with you?"s, I said, "Not much, just dealing with the kids," while she informed me that she had just completed her first marathon. "Congratulations! WOW!" I replied.

Then it struck me: what's so impressive about a marathon? A marathon ENDS. Twenty-six miles, and you're done. If you are tired one day, you can skip your 10-mile practice run. Parenting never stops. Tired? Grumpy? Got the flu? Too bad, you still have to give your kids their bath and make them dinner.

Yet nobody says, "Congratulations! WOW!" when you say you're a mother or a father. You don't get a t-shirt or a free power bar or people passing out water all along the way. Nobody sponsors you for every child you raise (OK, maybe the grandparents do); there is no Team-In-Training program for how to parent.

People do it every day, every minute of every day. But it's not celebrated as an achievement. Nobody answers the question, "What's new with you?" with "My kid is six this year and I helped to get her there." What an accomplishment to bring a child into the world and teach him or her how to be a good person.

Over the holidays, I met someone at a party who told me excitedly that he and his wife were planning to spend New Year's Eve in Las Vegas. "We can finally afford it now that we've put the last of our four kids through college," he said nonchalantly, to which I replied, "Congratulations! WOW!"

Coping with Food Allergies

2007-12-11T22:50:00.000-08:00

For any parent who can throw a sandwich, a cookie, and an apple into a brown bag and call it lunch for your child, consider yourself lucky. Both my kids are allergic to dairy and eggs. My son is also allergic to wheat, peanuts, and fish. My daughter, while she hasn't been officially tested yet, appears to be allergic to walnuts in addition to the dairy and eggs.

When I was pregnant, I had visions of baking cookies with my kids during holidays, having them lick batter off the spatula, maybe stealing the odd-shaped cookies off the rack before packing the pretty ones in baggies to share with friends. When you have a child who is allergic to wheat, eggs, and dairy, that becomes a much harder vision to realize.

On the more serious side, these food allergies mean a quick trip to the grocery store is at least an hour long, as I read over every single food label. I have episodes of anxiety at the thought of my son starting school, where an innocent trade of his potato chips for a friend's Oreo cookie might mean a trip to the emergency room. When we go out to eat, it's always Asian food, so that he at least can have a bowl of rice if nothing else on the menu is edible for him.

It is exhausting to be so vigilant about every morsel they put in their mouth. And this manifestation of my love and concern for them goes unappreciated. You are nobody's favorite mommy when you have to tell your boy that he can't have a taste of birthday cake or ice cream at his best friend's party.

I know I am not alone out there. Google searches have revealed countless web sites, blogs, and chat rooms devoted to this topic. But it feels like being on an island sometimes, to have to carry this worry over something so basic as eating. I only hope that all the care I put into planning my kids' diet and meals will result in healthier kids down the road.

Still, what I would give just to be able to order a pizza for dinner after a long day's work for once.

Stuff I Love: Aden & Anais Swaddling Blankets

2007-12-10T23:08:00.000-08:00

My little girl has allergies, so even though most parents stop swaddling their babies around three months, I still wrap my baby up like a burrito every night so that she won't scratch her face.

What I Love: Aden & Anais Muslin Blankets. They are super big and soft swaddling blankets (44" x 44") that can be used for a variety of other purposes besides swaddling.

Why I Love It: First of all, most baby blankets are 30" x 30". My 7-month-0ld is over 25" long, there is no way a normal receiving blanket is going to hold her. So these blankets get a thumbs-up just for being big enough to wrap my girl up.

But they also come in really cute patterns. I have the "girlie" collection, which features dots, stripes, and stars in pink and brown. And the fact that they are cotton muslin makes them soft, softer with each washing in fact.

And you can use them for more than just swaddling. They make a fine burp cloth or play mat. They are fabulous to drape over your stroller to keep the sun out of your little one's eyes. They are big enough to roll up to use as a bolster. I have even made one into a makeshift sling in a pinch.

You can purchase them at: http://www.adenandanais.com/. At $44 for 4 blankets, they are very reasonably priced for all the use you will get out of them.

If Moms Ran the World...

2007-12-10T22:26:00.000-08:00

At this year's Emmy Awards, Sally Field was censored for making the statement that "if mothers ran the world, there wouldn't be any goddamn wars!" And I recently had an epiphany on why that sentiment is true.

When my son was an infant, he spat up often. My husband and I would joke, "There he goes, making cheese again." I never gave it a second thought because babies spit up. It was never a lot, and he was tracking on the 75th percentile on all the growth charts. We found out after his first birthday that he has a lot of food allergies (wheat, eggs, dairy, fish, peanuts), which was causing his eczema to flare up. Once I cut all the offending foods out of my diet, his skin cleared up.

When my daughter broke out with eczema patches, I immediately cut all the foods my son was allergic to out of my diet. Her skin, too, cleared up immediately. I added the foods in one by one to determine exactly which foods exascerbated her eczema. The culprits: egg and dairy. I know this because even a teaspoon of mayonnaise on a sandwich I ate would result in her spitting up after I nursed her.

Then the thought seized upon me: all that "cheese" my son made, was it because I hadn't cut out the offending foods from my diet? Did I short-change him nutritionally because of all the milk he lost when he would spit up? I was racked with guilt - if he ends up being scrawny, is it because of what I ate while I was nursing him?

My husband told me not to worry, I didn't know at the time, and to move on. And that's the difference. Men will plead ignorance and never give a transgression a second thought. Damage is done, but a man will move on.

Mothers, on the other hand, worry. They tie the most insignificant, inconsequential moments to larger events, to actions, to reactions, and they scrutinize themselves, constantly contemplating how their own actions played a part in how a situation unfolds. Mothers consider the people around them, and they take some accountability for the impact, good or bad, they have on others.

There are definitely advantages to being able to move on. Certainly, moving on results in less money spent on therapy (psychological and retail). Yet, I can't help but think that the world might be in a better state if our world leaders felt the accountability for the human race the way mothers accept responsibility for the well-being of their children.

Stuff I Love - The Joovy Ultralight

2007-09-01T14:05:00.000-07:00

Today's parents are beset by all manner of baby gear. Walk in to any baby superstore (the fact that baby stuff must be sold in "superstores" speaks volumes, doesn't it) and you will have hundreds of strollers, car seats, high chairs, bouncy seats, play pens, learning mats, bottles, binkies, and random gadgetry from which to choose. And EVERYTHING is expensive. So what to buy?

Hearing from other parents is always the best way to figure out what to spend your hard-earned money on, but it's important to ask not only what they love but why they love it. Herewith, I give you my first rave review of a product that is worth your money.

What I love: the Joovy Caboose Ultralight stroller. It is a stroller made for two children of different ages, with a seat/infant carrier in the front and a rear-facing jump seat and standing platform in the back.

Why I love it: We had been using an umbrella stroller for my son and a snap-n-go infant carrier for my daughter, and that worked pretty well. It actually still does, and for occasions where we might split up (like at the mall), it is still our usual stroller arrangement. But we have a wedding in Hawaii to attend in October, and the thought of lugging two strollers, a car seat, and an infant carrier for a 4-day trip was unappealing. I decided that as much as I would prefer not to buy another stroller, a double stroller of some kind would really be useful.

My criteria for a double stroller was it had to be: (1) fairly compact (able to fit into a standard sized car's trunk when folded and can fit through a regular doorway when opened), (2) fairly light (can be picked up with one hand), (3) steerable with one hand, (4) not completely ugly.

The Joovy Ultralight meets all the criteria. It is the same width as my Graco Metrolite single stroller, and when folded, it fits in the back of our sedan. It is light enough that I can pull it out of our SUV cargo with one hand, although it's still heavier than most single strollers. On a flat road or smooth floor, it is easy to maneuver with one hand; it still requires two hands to steer it straight on a bumpy surface. And it comes in three cool colors: light sage green (the one I got), creamy sunset orange, or black.

More importantly, my son, who is about 2 1/2, had started to lose interest and willingness to sit in his stroller. Many times, he would want to get out and help me push the stroller. Or rather, take off the heels of unsuspecting pedestrians around us. With the Ultralight, he loves that he can face Mommy or Daddy and talk to us, and he loves that he can stand or sit. When he's standing, it's easy for him to hop off when he wants to walk and hop back on when he's tired. And he likes that he can see his baby sister and is sharing a ride with her.

There are several of these sit and stand strollers out there, but after looking at all of them, I like the Ultralight the best. First of all, it is more compact than most of the others. This is because the jump seat on the Ultralight slides back to give more room when the child is standing and slides forward for when he is sitting. Others with a stationary seat need the extra room so that the child can still sit comfortably. It is also one of the few models that has padded handles for both the child and parent, which make it more comfortable and cooler for both of you to hang on. And it is one of only a handful of models that has a parent organizer tray.

Finally, if you are trying to figure out if the Ultralight Caboose is worth $80 more than the regular Caboose, the answer is yes. The Ultralight has a snap lock for the jump seat, includes the parent organizer (which is purchased separately for the regular Caboose), comes in nicer colors, and really does feel a lot lighter.

So there you have it. If you've got two little ones who are 18 - 40ish months apart, and you want a double stroller, get yourself a Joovy Ultralight Caboose. And if you're lucky like I was, you might find a really good condition one on Craigslist!

Pump 'Til You Drop

2007-08-09T21:48:00.000-07:00

I have two friends who have recently given birth to their first babies, one of them having birthed twins vaginally (I will forever be in awe that she accomplished that). And it seems that when I talk to them, pumping breast milk is a topic that always comes up. When it comes to the natural art of breastfeeding, pumping is a new, hi-tech phenomenon.

The variety of breastmilk pumps on the market today is staggering. Everyone asks which model of pump is best, manual or electric (or both), which manufacturer to get, what accessories are needed, whether to buy or rent.... And those questions come up before ever getting the breastmilk pump. Then the questions turn to how often to pump, how does pumping work with feeding, how does one clean the pump (especially in public), yada yada yada.

For anyone who has questions about breastfeeding, I recommend the Kellymom website (www.kellymom.com), which has a great section covering pumping (www.kellymom.com/bf/pumping/index.html).

If you are a pumping mom, I salute you, because I personally find pumping to be a big fat pain in the boob and a lot of trouble. One of my friends is pumping exclusively - what a hero! If I were in her place, I probably would have switched to formula already. My friend with twins has had something attached to her boobs since the twins were born - either a baby or a breast pump.

As for my own situation, I am lucky to be able to breastfeed directly most of the time, so I use a small hand pump (Medela Harmony) or hand express when needed. I do, however, recommend getting some Medela freezer tubes (www.medela.com/NewFiles/brpmpacc.html#freezer_pak) for milk storage. They allow you to store your milk in smaller amounts, about 2.5 ounces, and you can attach a nipple directly to the bottles to feed. And after you're done breastfeeding, they make great storage for Cheerios in your kiddie bag or lunch box.

Happy Pumping.

Whose Boobs Are They Anyway?

2007-07-30T22:31:00.000-07:00

Breastfeeding mothers today face many challenges. In addition to the ordeals that can come with both mommy and baby learning how to breastfeed, what should be a normal way of feeding is still considered taboo in a lot of public places and situations. But many mothers expect this and understand that strangers may feel uncomfortable when one whips a boob out in a public place.

What this mother did not expect is to encounter so much resistance to breastfeeding from her own mother. I was born in the 1970's, when the prevailing medical opinion was that formula was better than breast milk. "Fortified with all the nutrients science has proven your baby needs!" "Know exactly how much your baby is eating!" "Easy and convenient!" "Liberate the mom from feeding duty!"

Of course, today's doctors recommend breastfeeding when possible. But that didn't change my mother's opinion. Whenever my son was sick or fussy in his first few months of life, my mother would say, "Maybe there is something wrong with your milk," or "maybe you're not making enough". In truth, I think my decision to breastfeed, first and foremost, shattered my mother's ideas of what it meant to be a grandma: she had always pictured herself sitting in a glider, cradling her grandson in her arms, and feeding him a bottle of milk. If I were to breastfeed, she thought that she would never get the satisfaction of feeding her grand-baby. But I think she also may have felt a pang of guilt over not breastfeeding me, even though at the time, it was what the doctors recommended.

When she realized that I could, and would, pump when I went to work, she was a little more supportive, if not more informed. "Why don't you just pump like a quart of breastmilk in the morning before you go to work instead of pumping all day? If there is any left over, you can go out for dinner and I can babysit."

It took a LOT of educating and forwarding of articles and web pages on my part before she came around. And I learned that what she wanted most was to be involved in the process. When I would breastfeed, if my mother was around, she would often accompany me and watch in wonder. If my son fussed at the nipple, she would gently cheer him on, "Come on, baby, it's OK. Your mommy has milky for you."

However, it did eventually get a little ridiculous. At one point, she felt comfortable enough not only to cheer him on, but she would actually jiggle my boob around to help him find the nipple (think Diana Ross's fondling of L'il Kim's jugs at the MTV Video Awards). Mom, really, do you have to grab my boob? This is really embarrassing, the waiter will be back with our order any minute now! If people are uncomfortable seeing a woman whip out her boob in public, I can only imagine how uncomfortable they are seeing that woman's mother bouncing her boob around, too.

So the moral of the story is: When it comes to breastfeeding, if your parents are part of the 'formula generation', education is crucial in getting their support, and don't let them touch your boobs.