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!
Monday, June 7, 2010
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Ice Cream is IN!
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.
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.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Love Thy Brother
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.
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.
Friday, January 22, 2010
Kindergarten: The Throwback Year
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.
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.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Wearing Mom Genes
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?
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?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)