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Monthly Archives
March 2013
A WIN FOR KIASU PARENTING
I think my worst fears have come true and I’m turning into *that* kind of parent. You know, the kind that brings her kids to Popular to buy assessment books as presents.
We were there to look for some kiddie stamper whatchamacallits (What do people call them these days? Chops? Stamps?) and we walked past the assessment book aisle which I usually avoid like the plague. Let’s just say that I have very bad memories that involve this particular aisle and a very impressive collection of 10-year series.
I picked up one with picture of a rocket picture on the cover and mustered my most excitable mommy voice “Guys, would you like to get this really cool book? It’s got rockets WOOOO!! And you can practice your Math at the same time, cool right?” They looked at me dubiously but before they could protest, I was all “Ok, you can pick any book you want from this shelf. You know what? Just pick as many as you want and we’ll get it for you.”
They left the store with 2 books each. I’m guessing they won’t be anywhere as enthusiastic the next time we return to this aisle.
THREADING WITH CAUTION
Every so often, I put myself through the exquisite torture that is eyebrow threading. You’d think that this being 2013, with our advancements in human genome research and our ability to send all manner of animals to the moon, we should have developed a painless and permanent way of removing one’s stray eyebrow hairs from one’s face.
But no, we are still using a length of thread to do the job – the same kind of thread that the uncle uses to cut the egg in my Mee Rebus, I might add. Oh, and did I mention that the whole process is an exercise in pain endurance. In my books, there’s childbirth (pain level = 10), then there’s dentist visits (pain level = 8) and then followed by eyebrow threading (pain level = 7). The 15 minutes that I have to spend twitching involuntarily while the therapist attacks my eyelids is not my idea of fun.
I AM YOUR FATHER…
The husband looked real pleased as he came home with a Darth Vader mask the other day. That evening, he put on some black clothes, pulled the mask over his face and hid in the kids room armed with his red Vader lightsaber in pitch darkness. The plan was for me to lure the kids into the room with some lame excuse and the moment they walk in, we’d play the Imperial March in the background while the husband does his heavy breathing and turns on his lightsaber with the “whoosh” sound dramatically.
They were both visibly stunned for a moment before Kirsten grabbed her brother and whispered in his ear “Wah, very scary man…” In true Jedi fashion, Truett valiantly grabbed his Luke Skywalker lightsaber and slashed off Lord Vader’s limbs in one killer move.
The force is strong in this one.
Finn turns 7 months tomorrow and I just realized that since he was born, I haven’t once checked Babycenter to keep track of his developmental milestones. I used to do it all the time when Truett and Kirsten were babies – get all excited at each new milestone and document all their firsts.
I guess all those things they say about parents with 3 kids are all true. By the time the third kid comes along, whether they crawl or stand at the right age isn’t as big of a deal.
But better late than never right? So here’s baby Finn’s 7th-month developmental update:
– He’s always got a smile for everyone. He’s been like that since he was a month old. If anyone stops to pay him any attention, he’ll break into the widest smile to make them feel real special. I’ve lost count of how many girls he’s made shriek “SO CUTE, HE’S SMILING AT ME!!” with that charming grin of his.
– He’s unbelievably playful. Some might call it unstoppable. He needs constant interaction and even when he’s sitting down with a toy in hand, he’ll be kicking his legs in a frenzy.
– He’s a proficient flipper. He doesn’t know how to crawl yet so the only way he moves from one point to another is to flip over and over like a stick of satay on the grill.
– He sits up relatively well. Occasionally, he falls over on his face (on the bed, relax) which makes the 2 bigger kids laugh their heads off.
– He adores Truett and Kirsten. They’re like his favorite people in the whole world.
– He’s trying to talk by making “bleh bleh blehhh” sounds with his tongue. It’s mostly gibberish but his sing-song intonation is super cute.
– His sleep patterns are like that of an infant. At 7 months, he still wakes up 3-4 times a night for boob chewing sessions. I don’t know how I’ve put up with this for so long.
– He’s still on breastmilk exclusively, with a bowl of baby rice puree in the morning. These days, he eats carrots, peas, pumpkins and avocados. Baby steps.
– He has no teeth. Not even one. Nothing in there but gums.
– He’s very grabby. He’s got the reflexes of a ninja and grabs everything in sight. When I try to remove anything from his iron grip, he’ll make his fake crying face in slow motion before bursting into tears. It’s actually cuter than it sounds.
– He loves music and his all-time favorite song is Head & Shoulders, Knees and Toes.
– He giggles easily and often. Which immediately turns my heart into mush.
Last Friday was puddle stomping day.
Why, you ask? Because puddles exist to be stomped on.
This is not one of those philosophical “If a tree falls in the forest” type of douchebag question. I know this because I have 2 preschoolers who will tell you that the very existence of a puddle means that it has to be stomped on with gusto. Also, I’ve been raised to step around puddles when I see them because I’m a lady and ladies don’t get their dainty toes wet but every time I find myself stepping around a puddle, there’s a moment where my inner 3-year-old screams “JUST DO IT, JUMP IN.”
I’d like to be the kind of parent who lets their kids stomp on every puddle but since I’m the one who does the laundry, more often than not, I’m all “Don’t do it, guys, I’m serious. Resist the urge. Put down your foot and slowly step away from that tiny pool of water.”
But my kids are compulsive and they live by the “Stomp First, Talk Later” motto.
Well, since it was raining last Friday and it was too wet to hang out at the playground, we bundled them in their raincoats + wellies and set them loose on all the puddles in the neighborhood.
Who knew that a little rain could be so much fun.
Truett’s Outfit
Shirt: Kiniki Kids
Shorts: Sudo
Shoes: Pediped
Fedora: Milk & Soda
Kirsten’s Outfit
Dress: Sudo
Shoes: See Kai Run
Baby Finn was born with the most glorious hair and I’ve done a Samson on him by refusing to let anyone cut his hair from birth. I loved the poofy, gravity-defying hair he used to have but it’s all grown out and floppy now, which is still cute in a different sort of way.
Only thing is that everyone has been commenting on how long his hair is and even though I dress him in manly togs, 9 out of 10 strangers will assume that he’s a girl. So much so that these days, I just roll with it.
A month ago…
Stranger lady: She’s so cute, how old is she?
Previous me: Actually HE’S a boy.
*Awkward silence.
These days…
Stranger lady: She’s so cute, how old is she?
New me: Thanks! Um, almost 7 months.
Stranger lady: I like her hair!
New me: Yeah, me too!
*Slightly less awkward silence.
Anyway, I’ve decided that it’s finally time for baby Finn to have his first haircut. I thought of bringing him to the place where Truett does his hair but then I figured that since it’s a relatively minor trim, I could save the money and do it myself.
Yeah, I didn’t know that I had it in me to cut hair either but motherhood is all about discovering new skills, innit? That, and saving $20.
So this morning, I put him in his Bumbo, brought him out to the corridor and started snipping. The husband had to entertain him with a song and dance routine to stop him from wriggling and I managed to make it through without accidentally jabbing him in the carotid artery with my scissors.
The plan is to keep his hair long like Henry LaMontagne from Criminal Minds so I only took off a bit of length at the back and evened out the sides.
Voila, what do you think?
Today’s our wedding anniversary and while I was explaining to the kids what it meant, it occurred to me that till this day, they haven’t seen our wedding pictures. So I dug up the photo archives and told the kids all about the day daddy and mommy got married 6 years ago.
Truett indulged me by glancing at a few photos and then decided that the entire endeavor was kind of meh but Kirsten just sat on my lap and browsed every single one of my 328 photos.
People say that after you’ve been married for a while, it’s important to remember all the special moments together and this day is certainly one of them.
Happy anniversary, baby.
After all this time and I still find your weirdness endearing, your jokes funny and your charm irresistible. I think it’s what they call love.
UPDATED: Okay and a couple more poser shots from the pre-wedding studio shoot.
