Cookies

I don't know why cookies are such a popular fund raiser. What a terrible thing to fling at middle aged parents! I'm trying my best to get ready for my high school reunion this coming fall and I've got to wade through a fund raising mine field.

Shoot, the Girl Scout cookie sale is in March. That shouldn't be too terrible considering that the cookies are all in sealed boxes so I never have to actually be confronted with their delicious yumminess. Cookies are one thing, but cookies with a good cause thereby making you feel like you're doing the world a favor -- well, that's just hard to resist. Both of the girls are taking cookie orders right now so if you're looking for cookies, they can hook you up.

Last fall, my hubby ordered 3 tubs of cookie dough from my friend's kid for his soccer club. It keeps well in the freezer so despite them telling us that the dough was ready, we've avoided having it in our house by never picking it up. It's been a good arrangement. We pay for the cookie dough and we don't have to actually eat it.

But... two things happened at the same time this past week. 1. I was at my friend's house. 2. She remembered about the cookie dough that has been taking up freezer real estate.

Shucks.

My husband had ordered peanut butter, chocolate chip, and snickerdoodles. I'm not really much of a cookie eater. None of this really phased me at all. My hubby's real Achilles' heel is the snickerdoodle. He just can't get enough.

As far as I can tell, it is a sugar cookie with a slight tartness from cream of tartar, and covered in cinnamon before it is baked so you can see the fissures in the surface as the dough spreads from the heat of the oven. Kind of like skin on the aliens from the movie Alien Nation.

When I discovered that a big snow storm was on its way, I decided to cook up the cookies. It would be good to have prepared food on hand for the kids just in case we lose power. It has happened for over a week for us before.

But I decided to stick the snickerdoodle dough in the freezer.

Lil'T couldn't understand my reason at first.

Me:  I don't like us having cookies around much in the first place because I know your daddy might sneak them. He can probably resist the peanut butter and the chocolate chip, but snickerdoodles are his favorite. I don't want it to easily available for him to eat.

Lil'T:  We'll a-course he's gonna sneak them. They are SNEAKerdoodles!

I'm so totally not making this conversation up. My baby girl is hilarious. She made up a joke all on her own.

Genius.

Opposites

Dad:  What is the opposite of hungry?

Lil'T:  Pizza!

Tenses

Last week was Princess's birthday. For other parents out there, you know what this means. It is yet another event that you have to prepare for and really just hope you don't mess up. It means treats for her class, cake to be ordered, the kid choosing the menu for dinner, the birthday present, and planning for the party.

So my day went from busy to frenetic pdq. I started the day at 5am. I needed to get prepped for special birthday breakfast which Hubby thankfully woke up early to make. Turkey bacon, waffles, scrambled eggs with blue cheese, white cranberry peach juice, and milk: a feast fit for a Princess. After I got the family off to their places, Lil'T and I went to the grocery store to get a strawberry cake for dessert after dinner, and ice cream for Princess's class. Surprisingly, I was able to find the strawberry cake easily -- even in March with random acts of freezing weather happening outside. I couldn't find the orange vanilla cups she requested and settled for popsicles which had orange vanilla. I crossed my fingers that there wouldn't be too much disappointment. You never know what is going to set off the whining and much dreaded tears. Living with children is like living with crazy people. Add a birthday into the mix and the crazy only magnifies. Off to the school I went and dropped off the treats with the front office.

I only had until 2 pm to get the next big part of the day done. I was off to the sporting goods store to find a tetherball set. Princess had her heart set on one for her birthday. Then I went to Costco to get her favorite frozen lasagne. I try not to think of it as an insult to my cooking that she prefers frozen lasagne to my home cooking. I instead concentrated on how nice it was that I didn't have to cook on top of everything else.

Lil'T was starting to pumpkin out by the time we had checked out and asked to have a Costco slice of pizza for lunch. On a Thursday in the middle of the day, Costco is the busiest place on the planet. It was so crowded that we were stuck looking for some kind soul to share their table with us. I spotted a tata sitting by himself in the corner. He was wearing a baseball cap the way my dad always did, more like a hat than a cap. It was perched up there not fully pulled down, so he looked like his forehead must be at least 5 inches tall if the cap was touching the top of his head. I walked over to him and asked him if it would be okay for us to share his table. He kind of made an uncomfortable smile and pointed behind me where his wife was walking towards him with their drink cups. I said that it was just the two of us and his wife ultimately answered saying that it would be okay.

I sat down and could tell that Lil'T was not too sure about sitting with these strangers but somehow, that lady sure sounded familiar. I leaned over to T and said, "That lady sounds a lot like Lola, yeah?" That was all it took.

The woman asked me, "Pilipina?" I told her that I was and then it was all better.

We started talking about where we were from, what flavor of Filipino we were, and how at first the tata thought that I was Japanese. He actually tried to speak a little bit of Tagalog and Ilocano to me. Too bad I didn't know any.

And then it happened. The moment when I made a decision to lie a little bit.

Tata asked me, "Are your parents still in Hawaii?"

I sat there knowing that I could answer truthfully or in the way that I wish it were. I went with the latter.

"Yes, my parents live in Hawaii." Followed by all kinds of pronouncements in the wrong tense.

"No, my dad doesn't speak Tagalog, but he's learning Hawaiian."

"My dad's brothers and sister all live in Hawaii."

It was a nice chat. Maybe my kids' crazy is rubbing off on me. Just felt so natural to talk to them like my dad and my uncles who have died didn't. Why did these people need to know my private pain?

Then I jumped right back into the fast stream and raced Lil'T to school (about an hour late), went off to church to walk the kids to religious ed classes, delivered an order of cookies, and then raced off to Aikido where the dreaded whining and crying finally came because I couldn't find Princess' Aikido belt and she didn't want to walk into class without it, despite her sensei having dozens of white belts lying around because the kids test out of them all the time! Raced off to pick up Lil'T and then raced off to the ferry to pick up Hubby. Then it was back to Aikido where Princess had tested up to a yellow belt! Hurrah! Side benefit being that the lost white belt can stay lost. Then it was dinner, cake, ice cream, tetherball, birthday phone calls, and (praise God) bedtime.

It wasn't until later that I could process my conversation with the older Filipino couple at Costco. Somewhere in this world, there are 2 strangers who think that my dad and my uncles are still alive. I know that it is irrational and kind of strange. I'm not entirely sure why I didn't just speak truthfully. Maybe it was their familiar accented English that got me reminiscent and a little heart sick for home. There is a comfort that there are these strangers for whom I am a woman whose dad is still alive and he is still wondering about his next trip to visit the grand babies, still playing his uke and learning Hawaiian, still calling with his recipe for roast chicken. Still.

Fully Programmed

The Great Wolf Lodge sent us some marketing materials earlier this month. We went there for Spring Break the year they opened and I guess they've been missing our contributions to their bottom line. I more precisely should say that they sent the brochure to our 3 kids. It was a glossy full color one complete with word scramble, connect the dots, beautiful pictures of happy children who have parents that look good in swimsuits. Clearly all fantasy shots. But there was a fun little activity that our princess took to immediately. It was a picture of an empty suit case and the directions stated that you draw all the things you need to bring with you to the Great Wolf Lodge. Princess enlisted the help of her brother and Lil'T to figure out what to draw. I could figure out what most of the pictures were. There were 3 sets of bathing suits, a speedo which is the bird shaped drawing in the upper left corner supposedly for my husband. There was a sack lunch and a bottle of milk. There was one pillow. There was dog food, a stick, and even Holly in the suitcase. Tho I'm pretty sure Holly would object to being stuffed in a suitcase. There was one really puzzling picture that looked like a rectangular brush with a dark stripe down the middle.

Me: What's that?

Princess: Oh, that's the money you could be saving if you switched to Geico.

I don't know how I feel about that. I don't think I'll get nominated for parent of the year considering that my kids are so easily programmed. On the other hand, maybe I should switch to Geico. Then maybe we could afford a trip to the Great Wolf Lodge.

Holly -wog

Poor little Holly has such a fun name. All kinds of neat nick names can be made from it. Holly-wood. Holly-wog. Holly Berry. Hollyanna.

A couple of weeks ago, lil' Miss Holly proved that she loves me far more than any of my human children ever could. Maybe it is just that they've not been faced with proving their love for me by putting themselves in mortal danger, so perhaps I am a little unfair in my assessment.

We were at the beach for our last summer hurrah. It was a perfect day for it. The tide was low earlier in the day so when the water came in, it was nice and warm. There was a breeze so we weren't too hot on the sunny day, but it did make for choppy waters. I think the waves were maybe 3 or 4 inches tall but when you're Holly sized (she was maybe 8 - 9 pounds at the time) they're tsunami sized waves.

Lil'T wanted to go swimming so I walked out into the surf with her. Holly is not a swimming dog. Her breed historically lived on farms and hunted mice. They were always far from the sea. Holly doesn't even like to go out in the rain. But she followed me and T to the shore where she howled and barked for me to come back to the dry land because it was treacherous in the water. Surely, T and I should know better than to risk our lives in the sea. T and I played in the surf and Holly looked on completely dismayed. Somewhere in that doggy brain, she made a decision to save our lives and she jumped into the surf, braving waves breaking over her head, swimming (more like thrashing) because she's not an artful swimmer. I've covered how here breed is not a water dog, right? And she swam into my arms. At that point, I was holding both the dog and the pre-schooler. Lil'T was laughing and having a great time. Holly was crying, wet, miserable, shaking in fear, and cold. So I walked the 3 yards to the shore and plopped her on dry land. Again with the crying, whimpering, and howling. And again with the jumping in, thrashing in the water, swimming out to Lil'T and me. It happened about 5 or 6 times.

Our friend Kiko, who is a veterinarian, was with us at the beach. She saw the whole pathetic display of Holly's undying devotion. She was asked if this was normal for dogs to behave this way. She said that it wasn't normal. That it bordered on pathological. Kiko said that I should spend time away from Holly and let her learn to be on her own a little more.

Pathological?

I think I'm okay with she and me being codependent on each other. I mean, it isn't like I'm enabling her to do drugs or alcohol. She just has a slightly unbalanced attachment to me and I have to admit, I do to her as well. That throwing her own mortal fears to the wind and jumping into the water to "save" me, well, that just sealed it.

Devotion = Holly

My musical Lil'T

I was surprised one day while driving along with Lil'T in the back seat. I was singing this song and she joined in on that one line through the whole song. Too cute! Forgive the change in the verse and also the random brain fart that made me forget the lyric in the middle. Also, I hope that Ingrid Michaelson can forgive my singing. No disrespect intended.

Jose, can you see?

We had a splendid 4th of July. 16 years ago, when we were planning our wedding, I wanted a 3 day weekend. In Hawaii, all the best places were booked at least a year in advance. 3 day weekends, even faster. So the only 3 day weekend available for us to get married in 1994 was on the 4th of July.

We joked back then that we would tell our kids that the fireworks were to celebrate our wedding anniversary. The whole nation celebrated with parades and fireworks our union and I suppose the union of all the states. Eh, splitting hairs.

Yesterday, we totally dug out on our friends with whom we usually watch the parade. See, years ago, you could drop off your chairs on the side of the road a couple hours before the parade started and it was great fun. Now you have to camp out about 5 - 6 hours ahead of time. The thought of sitting in 81 degree heat for 5 hours was simply not appealing. And for goodness sake. IT IS MY ANNIVERSARY! I shouldn't have to do anything I don't want to do. So over the protests of our kids, we decided to skip the parade all together and head over to Dan & Terri's most awesome lake house.

Their lake house is not only bigger, nicer, and better decorated than our regular house -- but it is on a lake. Okay, that kind of goes without saying since it is a lake house. But the lake is so beautiful, the water so swim-able, with canoes, kayaks, and rowboats readily available... I want them to adopt me. They have a son and daughter. Maybe I can get one of my kids to marry into the family. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Anyway, Dan & Teri also have a hot tub. After all the kids were done swimming in the lake, the whole bunch of them went up to the hot tub. Most of the kids were in the 12 - 14 year old range. Lil'T and Princess hopped in too to warm up. Hubby overheard some of the conversation.

Lil'T: What the f-f-f-f...

A hush fell across the group.

Lil'T: What the fireworks!?!

There was laughter and lots of, "I totally thought she was going to say something else." and "What other words start with 'f' that you know?"

The boys especially were hoping, hoping, hoping that my 3 year old might have something a little more scandalous to say.

Too bad, suckas!

I blow you up ... BOOM

This past Saturday was Princess's First Communion. Pictures to follow provided that Hubby gets back from his business trip and remembers to offload his camera. I don't have a card reader for the behemoth memory cards on his SLR. Anyway, Princess was dressed in a sleeveless Cinderella pick up skirt tea length white satin gown. Her hair was up in a big pouffy bun (ala Carrie Bradshaw in Sex In the City) and she wore my handmade veil under it and a rhinestone/pearl tiara in the front. Around her neck she wore my mother's gold cross which Lola gave to her that morning. She wore brand new white shoes with 1.5 inch heels. By the end of mass, I was holding those heels while Princess ran around shoeless. To complete her ensemble, Princess wore white gloves that went up to her elbows. She looked like a real princess. She just needed a scepter and cape.

The kids were asked to be there at 3pm so that they could have their formal portraits taken. I took advantage of my early arrival to reserve seating for the 18 people who were going to be coming to witness Princess's First Communion. We had Lola, Uncle Dwight, who came from Hawaii, Uncle Norm, Aunty Bridget, Cousin Katie, who came over on the ferry, Uncle Davey, Aunty Jan, their kids Alex & Ashley 4 y.o. and Aidan 18 mos., Grams, Gramps, and Aunty Di who came from California. I went to my car and got out every piece of clothing I could find. Came out with a raincoat, hat, bandana, umbrella, paperback, and a bunch of Monopoly money that the now defunct dollar store used to give out as coupons. So I laid out said items and sprinkled a bunch of reserved signs made with the play money all over the pews. Then I waited.

Aside from a couple of snarky comments from people who came later and I told that I had reserved the 2.5 pews, people were pretty receptive to me having reserved the spots. To the one lady who exclaimed in disbelief, "3 pews!" I say, 'Chick, I was here for over 2 hours before you moseyed your way to get a seat so shut it. And peace be with you.' In my head of course.

Grandparents and our family took the front pew and the uncles, aunts and cousins took the 2nd. We had a couple of friends in the 3rd. It all worked out pretty well. Except for when the homily started.

The way the church is situated, the main lectern is on the left side of the altar (stage right). We happened to be seated in the first 3 rows of pews directly to the left of the lectern. We were pretty much spitting distance from our priest. So when the homily started, Fr. Emmett (who is a very sweet man) started talking about Pentecost -- a pretty big day in our faith -- celebrating the Holy Spirit's coming to the apostles and giving them the gift of tongues. One might argue that the Spirit was moving my 2 nephews and my niece. After all, are we not instructed to make a joyful NOISE unto the Lord?

So all during the homily, there were some gender clarifications: "Mommy, Alexander called me a boy. I'm not a boy. I'm a girl." There were also some threats of violence: "I blow you up. BOOM!" And general discontent voiced by the youngest of the 3: your basic baby cry. All this peppered by my brother and sister-in-law's desperate whispers of shush, put that down, don't touch that, quiet, etc. It gave me a major case of the church giggles. You know the kind where you can't laugh out loud but your body can't help but laugh so your shoulders start shaking up and down.

Hubby's sister Diane waited to see the famous church pinch that my mother used to deliver to us on a weekly basis. You know the kind right at the back of the arm on a nerve apparently connected to your voice box. One well placed pinch and you are effectively silenced for the remainder of the service. My mother wasn't sitting in the same row as the kids so only could give a stern look which was miserably ineffective. When asked why the pinches weren't delivered, she said simply, "I couldn't reach." She also hoped that nobody would notice the family resemblance and that she could pretend that those grand babies were not hers.

For his part, Fr. Emmett made every effort not to look in our direction. He truly is a soft touch. One can only hope that he didn't hear the ruckus, that he may have left his hearing aid out... but I suspect that everybody heard them. My friend Steve had arrived late to the service and was sitting clear across the church away from us. When we talked about what the kids were saying, Steve said, "That was you? I heard that."

For the rest of the visit with my brother and his family, our catch phrase was, "I blow you up ... BOOM!"

I can't wait to see them again. Even if I get blown up several times a day.

Playdate movie

Lil'T and her friends Ben & Dora were playing together today. Yeah, Dora is the life sized stuffed doll. That Dora is a chair hog and almost knocked Lil'T off the rocker. Sheesh!

Yes, we have no bananas

I live with crazy people. Lil'T is perhaps the craziest of them all.

Me: What do you want for breakfast? There's cereal. There's toast. I can make eggs. There's fruit...

T: Hmmm... Bananas.

Me: We don't have bananas. We have watermelon, apples and oranges.

T: Hmmm... Grapes.

Me: We don't have grapes. We have watermelon, apples and oranges.

T: Okay. I want bananas.

Me: We don't have bananas. We have watermelon, apples and oranges.

This went on for a good ten minutes or so. I was reminded of that scene from Red Dwarf when Holly informs Dave that everybody is dead. Dave keeps questioning if individual people from the crew are dead. Holly resorts to using every permutation of the four words: everybody, is, dead, Dave.

We have apples, watermelon, and oranges. Oranges, apples, and watermelon, we have. Apples we have; oranges we have; watermelon we have. And so on.

Ultimately I let her have spaghetti left over from dinner, canned cranberry jelly and a glass of milk. This was her breakfast.

I have a few errands to run. I'll need to buy some bananas and grapes. Even though tomorrow I've no doubt that she'll want to eat peaches.

I'm sure you can relate

Lil'T still needs some help with the potty. She goes on her own, pretty much. And we have worked out that we get first wipe and then she has a turn (because the other way around is just too messy). She will flush the toilet unless it is too hard to push the lever. She also is in charge of pulling up her pants and underwear herself and then I help her wash her hands.

Today she was dallying in the bathroom -- it takes time to pull up underpants and pants. I was waiting and soon Lil'T became frustrated. She started crying while trying to pull up her jeans. She needed help. Sometimes we all do.

She said, "My pants are freaking me out!"

That just made my day. I don't often get freaked out about my pants but I'm sure that it happens to all of us.

Alphabet -- revisited again

She finally did it!!! Yay!

Lil'T and the alphabet revisited

This is the video of Lil'T's version of the alphabet song. You'll notice some omissions, especially at the end. I am mourning the loss of "Emily" in place of "Elemeno," but I'm getting over it. When counting, she also forgets the 4 and goes straight to 5. It has something to do with holding up her fingers while counting. When she gets to 4, she can't hold her thumb down so she just skips it. 1, 2, 3, 5... Next year will suck for her because she'll have turned 4 but won't be able to say her age or just show her fingers. I'm sure we'll figure something out.

Thar she blows!

Last week was our Spring Break. The first weekend was Hubby's mother's birthday so we had wanted to head out on Friday after his work and make it to So. Cal. by Sunday, Gram's actual birthday. Sadly, last week, Lil'T and I became human tubes with the stomach flu. Nothing stayed down and everything ran for the closest exits with frightening speed. At one point in the middle of the night while I was retching into a bucket, I actually started weeping. (cue violins) I begged my body to realize that the grilled chicken ceasar that was dinner was long gone and nothing was left inside. I was empty, but in perfectionist mode, my body continued to heave nothing but air for several hours that first night. On Tuesday morning, I while I rested, Lil'T climbed in to our bed and proceeded to vomit all over it. So she and I camped out on the sofa for a good part of the week watching endless hours of Nick Jr. and Dora the Explorer. (I'm the Map, I'm the Map, I'm the Map, I'm the Map, I'm THE MAP!) Lil'T didn't stop spewing until Sunday. We started our journey on Monday and SURPRISE, Lil'T had one last bit of sick in her. Nothing like cleaning your kid up in the parking lot of a Carl's Jr.

I do need to brag a little bit though. Lil'T at 3 years old is the most conscientious vomiter of our brood. Our son was famous for having the bucket in front of his face and turning his head away at the last moment to hit the floor. Once, on a road trip, he actually woke us all in the middle of the night screaming. He then rolled over and went back to sleep. After about 10 minutes, he sat up, vomited on the comforter, and then proceeded to lie down and go back to sleep. Just like a rock star. Are you kidding me? In contrast, Lil'T will always ask for her bucket. Of course it is the 3 gallon, very dramatic bucket with a handle. She could fit in this bucket with room for a rubber duckie. She will cry for it but if it isn't in reach, when she will vomit directly into a toilet, sink, or other within reach vessel. Unless she's in bed and can't get to the edge fast enough. At least she cries. I can be woken from a sound sleep to full alertness by the sound of a whimpered, "Bucket..."

I'll post more on our trip later. Highlights though: Legoland, visiting with family and friends, Laguna Beach & Monterey Bay Aquarium.

Cutest Kid Contest

Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep is a network of professional photographers who help families when they suffer the loss of an infant. They volunteer their time and materials to take pictures of the family so that they can remember the life that was lost. It is a compassionate program and I am going to enter my kids in The Cutest Kid Model Search contest -- a benefit for this organization. Please join me in supporting it. To enter, follow the link above. You'll be asked to donate $1 per vote.

Don't keep your kids out of the competition just because you know that in a throw down, my kids are cuter...

Lil'T and the alphabet

Lately Lil'T has been asking for the "a-b-c song." Very cute. But my favorite is when she sings it. Sure there are the omissions and the repeating of sections:

"A-B-C-D-A-F-G..."

But my favorite is Lil'T's take on the notorious "elemeno," letter. I remember thinking that it was just one letter. It isn't very clear by the song. But here is Lil'T's rendition.

"J-K-Emily-P."

Cool.

Been there

Shopping with kids guarantees that you will visit every bathroom of every store at least twice for any child who needs your assistance. Those that don't need your help will wait until everybody else has gone and then just as you are to leave a store, suddenly announce that he too needs to visit the restroom. This makes a shopping trip that should last only 30 minutes last about 2 hours. At least it feels like 2 hours.

Today we went to Costco and had lunch. I told the family that I was going to the bathroom and asked if anybody wanted to go with me. Nobody did. As is typical, upon my return, Lil'T and Princess both announced that they had to go.

I know this detailed account of our bathroom visits really isn't that interesting to read, but this post is not about us. It is about a mother with 2 kids, likely twins: a boy and girl around 4 years old. I put Teira on the potty when I heard this monologue from outside our stall.

"Libby, I'll just hold the door closed for you. Don't lock it. Your brother and I are waiting. Don't lock the door. I said no. (exasperated sigh after she discovered that Libby had indeed locked the door.) Okay, well hurry up, we're all waiting for you to be finished... Are you done? Libby, I asked if you're done. Well, if you're done, wipe yourself and pull up your pants. I said, pull up your pants. Okay, your brother has to go to the bathroom too. John, don't lock the door. Libby, what are you doing? OH GOD! GET UP OFF THE FLOOR! LIBBY! OH GROSS! GET UP OFF THAT FLOOR THIS INSTANT!!! JOHN, GET UP OFF THE FLOOR. OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW!"

At this point she started panicking because she couldn't get the door open. Then kids' grandmother asked from outside the bathroom if everything was alright.

"MY KIDS ARE GOING PSYCHO! LIBBY! OPEN THE DOOR THIS INSTANT!"

This mom totally lost it as both her kids were lying on the bathroom floor of the Costco. (You may have the impulse to rub yourself all over with hand sanitizer. Go with that.) She started pounding on the bathroom stall door.

"LIBBY! OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW!!!" *pound, pound pound* "OPEN THE DOOR! OPEN IT!" Repeat.

Lil'T and I had finished washing our hands so we waited for Princess outside. I didn't want that poor mom to be too embarrassed with us watching. You could tell she had tried to hold it together as much as possible but just couldn't handle both kids peeking out from under the bathroom stall doors. I know that I'd have gone over the edge if I found my kids lying down on the floor of the Costco bathroom. At least it was the ladies room. I've heard horror stories about mens rooms. Hubby says that the bathrooms on the WS Ferries are so filthy that he'd rather hang his butt over the side of the boat than go to the mens rooms. Then again, he may just be telling tales because he hates having to take Lil'T to the bathroom.

The kids must have opened the door because while we were waiting both kids bounced out of the bathroom and that poor mom had returned to normal. She even offered to help them get a drink of water from the fountain.

I'm sure she felt embarrassed, but she's got to know. We've all been there. Every mom of every little kid has been there. At least I have. She doesn't need to feel embarrassed.

In the car, my son was cracking up at the recounting of this mother's harrowing visit to the bathroom. He thought it was so disgusting for those kids to be lying on the floor of the bathroom. This from the same kid who when he was about 4 years old picked up the urinal cake out of the urinal and asked, "What's this?"

Yeah, that urinal cake. The one that everybody pees on. The one that my husband says every guy aims for. That urinal cake.

I didn't burn the boy or douse him in bleach. But I think I used up my entire bottle of hand sanitizer.

I had to rub it all over him and myself just to feel clean again.

Tess and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day

That title is directly from Judith Viorst's classic of a similar name. Just sub Alexander for Tess and you've got it. It was one of my favorite books as a kid. That and the story of Rikki Tikki Tembo Nosarembo Chari Bari Ruchi Pip Peri Pembo. I'm not sure if that is how that was spelled, but I've never forgotten that fictional character's name. He nearly died of pneumonia or drowning because his brother had to say that entire name when looking for help. Go look it up.

I was asked by my dear friend Julia to write this blog post because she has an unhealthy relationship to her keys. I think I'll have to blog on her key problem. It got so bad at one point that my husband suggested she gets one of those lanyards to wear around her neck and couple it with one of those key rings that clips to your belt. With two points of contact with her body, there would be a good chance that she could hold on to them. My situation on Wednesday filled her with a sick kind of redemptive joy. Oh well, here goes.

Hubby left very very early on Monday morning (4:30am wake up time) on a business trip to Houston. Before he left he asked me to go to bed at a reasonable hour. I've gotten a little addicted to Facebook. One of my friends manages to be online at 11pm my time so I end up chatting with her for an hour or so. Next thing you know, it is 1am and I need to get the kids up at 6:30am. This is just not good for my health. So told Hubby that I would try to get to bed on time. On Monday night, I found my friend online and managed to stay up until 2am my time. I was a bit of a wreck on Monday morning but managed to get the kids off to school and then I crawled back in bed with my youngest. I couldn't do that again.

When Hubby called to check in that day and asked when I got to bed, I told the truth. I certainly could have lied and said that I went to bed at 11pm like a good little girl, but I know he is wise in the ways of computers and can figure out exactly when I logged out. For all I know, he has my desktop mirrored on his Blackberry. So I vowed to go to bed at 10pm that night especially since I had an 8am appointment with my son's teacher for conferences on Wednesday morning.

Well, I did better but not 10pm better. I got to bed around midnight but was feeling pretty positive about that time. A good six and a half hours of sleep might just do the trick. That was until 1:30am when Lil'T decided that she didn't want to go potty and would instead prefer to whine a good long while. She also found it necessary to fight me picking her up out of bed to put her on the toilet. I finally got her back to bed by 2 am but because Hubby is out of town, I allowed her sister and her to sleep in my big bed with me. Big mistake. Lil'T kept complaining that her sister was too close. At one point, Princess was practically lying on top of me. That's when I kicked Lil'T out of bed. Around 2:30am. I lay there for what felt like hours before I decided to get out of bed and shop Ebay for a while. I finally got sleepy at 5am. Yeah, 1.5 hours before I had to get up again to get Princess to school. Plus I had to get dressed and ready for the conference.

In the book, Alexander woke up with gum in his hair. At least he had a good night's sleep. Having the conference at 8am meant waking Lil'T up at 7am. You wouldn't think that was a big deal but she normally wakes up at 8am. A 3 year old deprived of an hour of sleep whiny and clingy. Compounded with the fact that she's on antibiotics for a sinus infection. Way more opihi than normal. How wonderful to have to deal with her while That's teacher was telling me all the ways that he shouldn't have failed Art. Or Science. The boy disliked his Art teacher. I hear it is a common problem. But he shouldn't have totally blown off Art. Meanwhile he's acing Math. He failed Science because he missed the due dates for his project since we were in Hawaii. And instead of turning the project in, he just held on to it. OHN. So, he will be turning in the final project on Monday and hopefully the grades will be revised. No matter what I say, he won't deal with Art. He'd rather just fail.

Then I get a phone call from Julia. She'd had her car serviced and hoped that I could help her out. So I went to pick Julia up at her house, picked up Princess from the bus at our house and off we went. Since we were so close to the mall, I decided to see if Ross and TJ Maxx still had some of those formal white dresses they hauled out for the holidays. I just wasn't thinking 1st communion back in December. I'll remember when it is Lil'T's turn.

Anyway, because we were leaving the island, I let the kids use the DVD player in the car. Lil'T and That wanted to stay in the car and watch the DVD. I told them that they could provided they lock the car doors. I left them my cell phone in case they got harassed by anybody. Then my son could call the police or call the store for help. Plus, I was just going to pop in and out since Princess had a lot of homework to complete before Thursday.

After about 10 minutes in the store and seeing nothing but pink, yellow, peach and mint dresses, we were headed back to the car to leave. Just as we were leaving we saw That and Lil'T coming into the store. My son had to use the bathroom. Here is the exchange that followed.

Me: "Did you lock the car?"

Him: "Yes."

Me: "Okay, let me have the keys."

Him: "What keys? You never gave me the keys."

I ran out to the car and sure enough, he had locked every door. And he left the DVD player running so the car was on accessories power. At least the engine wasn't idling.

Remember, I had left him with my cellphone. He left that in the car too.

So I was stranded a good 17 miles away from my home. My husband was in Houston. And I only had 2 of my friends home phone numbers memorized. Who memorizes phone numbers anymore??? I didn't have enough loose change to make a phone call at the pay phone. Thankfully the TJ Maxx sales people rock and let me use their phone. I called both of them and neither was home. Panic. Then I called my husband on the off chance that he had one or the other's cell phone number. He had Julia's phone number. I hoped and prayed that she wouldn't screen the call. That she wouldn't see "TJ Maxx" on the caller ID and say, "meh, I won't answer." But perhaps the fact that she was driving at the time helped me out because she answered after only a couple of rings. She said that she could come out but she had to find a way to take care of her daughter who was at swimming lessons. I told her how to get into our house and asked her to bring every key that she saw because I had the Toyota keys there too. Wouldn't it have sucked if she got to me and brought the wrong car's keys? And she had to go back to her house and pick up her van because in case she had to jump start my car, she wanted to use the van.

So we shopped and waited. At some point I noticed that Lil'T was walking a little funny. I walked over to her and got hit in the face with that distinctive foul odor that all moms dread. I asked her, "did you poop in your pants?" She got all teary eyed and told me that she had. So I found a 5 pack of panties for $3.99. Yay for TJ Maxx once again. If it had been Nordstrom, I'd be paying at least $10 for one panty.

I tried to get by on the sly. I don't know why, but I didn't want to embarrass her and let all the shoppers at TJ Maxx know that Lil'T had an accident. The doctor told me that a lot of kids on the antibiotic get diarrhea. It is a very common side effect. Unpleasant, but common. So I go to purchase my pack of panties and Princess pipes up, "Mom, I think Lil'T pooped her pants." I swear she was yelling it at the top of her lungs, but I'm sure she wasn't. I just loved the looks I got (real or imagined) from the other people there. The checker cut the panty bag open for me and I was off the the handicap stall in the ladies room. It happened twice, but the second time with more histrionics from Lil'T. She was really upset. Clean up was aided by my quick thinking and a sanitary napkin in her underpants. When you're diaperless, you do what you can with what you have. Thankfully I had the pads. Can you imagine if I only had a tampon?

Could this day get any longer?

Julia showed up about an hour and a half after I called. I couldn't thank her enough. Luckily, my car started up no problem, even with the DVD player in perpetual menu mode as the movie had finished ages ago.

When we got home and finished eating our $0.89 burritos from Taco Bell because there was no way I was going to cook after all of that, I bathed T, showered myself and felt a whole lot better. Sadly, I still had to contend with Princess's homework. She was up a good 2 hours past her bedtime. Poor thing.

Oh well, everybody has days like these once in a while.

Even in Australia.

Cousins

Lil'T and I have just returned from Hawaii. We went to stay with Mom while she recovered from surgery. While it was unfortunate for us to have to go to Hawaii for that reason, it was good to visit with friends & family. My cousin Sham had us over for Halloween. Her 3 kids and Lil'T went trick or treating together. Sham dressed her kids as Santa, Frosty & an Elf. You might think that my cousin got the holiday wrong but I suspect that her Ilocano roots were showing -- why by 2 sets of costumes when you can reuse them for 2 holidays instead? Brilliant! Lil'T was about the same size (actually a little taller) than her 5 year old boy cousin. Eh, that happens when you're 1/2 Filipino and 1/2 Japanese. This past summer we visited my brother and his family in San Francisco. His kids are about 1/4 Filipino and 3/4 Chinese. Despite Lil'T being about 6 months younger than her twin cousins, she towers over them. I wonder where she gets that height? I hope she doesn't develop a complex. She doesn't seem that much bigger than her haole classmates at preschool.

One of Lil'T's favorite things to do with me is read books. I think this is the part where I characterize her as being an exceptional learner, bound for greatness -- heck, she can even aspire to the 2nd highest office in the land if she wants. But only aspire. We girls need to learn our place. *sigh* Only time will tell. And like thousands of other 3 year old kids out there, she loves Dora. We have a book called Dora's World Adventure. I have learned recently that the devious kid programmers who make Dora the Explorer have also made a music cd and dvd of this book. They have made it unsafe to walk through the video aisle at Safeway. Thankfully, Lil'T is still too young to go to any music stores on her own.

In this adventure, Dora and Swiper take us on a magical journey around the world -- visiting France, Tanzania, Russia and China. In each place we see a picture of kids from that area and learn how to say hello to them in their native tongue. Very cute to hear Lil'T say, "bonjour," in her 3-year old toddler accent. But the very best part was turning the page to Dora's journey to China. Pictured were 5 or 6 Chinese kids -- short, brown, dark haired and slanty eyed. To which Lil'T commented, "Look at all the cousins." It took me a beat to figure out what she was saying. But I guess when all the kids you meet on your travels are brown, have dark hair and slanty eyes, and are called cousins by your mom, that must be the word for them.

Ni hao Cousins!

Beach party

The beach party was thrown by our neighbors at this little community where we own a small parcel of land. Really great people and darned good cooks. It was a little strange to be amongst these folks because for the most part, they're retirees. What was sweet was how they all doted on Lil'T. There are grandmas out there who can't help but feed and chat with little kids like her. It's been a long time since I've been one of the young ones at any function. The one other family who brought their children were older than us. One of them was driving the family car and the youngest had clearly gone through puberty.

There are days that I miss the beaches in Hawaii more than others. Today was one of those days. It was a perfect day for the beach. There was a cool breeze. The sun was shining. It must have been about 70 degrees out. Perfect.

But this was Dabob Bay on Hood Canal. These are not tropical waters.

Hubby decided to go for a dip in the water. Yeah, the water tends to be cold but usually, you can stand in it for a bit and you become adjusted to the temperature. This time however, he said after a good 15 minutes, it still felt like pins and needles all over his legs. Undeterred, he jumped in and swam to the floating dock. About half-way there, he thought only 2 things. 1. "Why am I doing this?" 2. "I think I might die." Too darned cold.

There was one funny moment at the beach though. Princess was standing behind me when I heard a scream of abject terror. I turned around to see Princess holding a slice watermelon with an investigating bumble bee on her hand. The bee had landed on her fingers. Princess had the sense not to move. She was trembling but reasonably still. Hubby shooed the bee away and Princess was a little shaken up but didn't get stung. We reassured her that the watermelon was just too yummy a treat and that she should not worry about the bees. I told her that the bee just wanted a sip of that sweet watermelon juice.

Lil'T had watched the whole event with fascination but what was priceless was how she looked at Princess, then looked at the slice of watermelon in her own hand. You could see the cogs turning in her head. Then she spun around looking over her shoulder both ways just to see if a bee was sneaking up on her.

Neither girl had another slice of watermelon for the rest of the day.