Hallow-won’t November 1, 2007

Yup, it’s Halloween, and we took it easy on Mommy’s nerves this year and didn’t do anything. No costume. No party. No pumpkin carving. No trick o’ treating. Just an orange “Mummy’s Boy” t-shirt from Old Navy to acknowledge the occasion.

Admittedly I’m a bit disappointed in myself. For the last two years I have rallied to the occasion and conjured up a very cool night-before costume out of nothing. Two months old? He was a pirate before pirates were cool, complete with a parrot on his shoulder and a nice hand-drawn skull sewn on his striped shirt. Last year? After three failed concepts and who knows how many trips to Goodwill looking for raw materials, I was stumped with a Halloween party to go to the next morning. Somehow I decided to use a white playsuit of his and came up with the idea to make him an Elvis costume. Three hours later and he was the King of Rock and Roll.

The funny thing is, last June when I was flying a red-eye home from Dallas via Las Vegas, I struck up a conversation with a woman next to me who boarded the plane in Vegas. She was a brunette twentysomething wearing a satin jacket with a big pink “V” stitched on the back, and carried a teddy bear wearing a leather jacket. I commented on the bear, and she said, “Oh, his name is Elvis. I just love Elvis.”

“Really? My son was Elvis for Halloween last year.” Using my handy Blackberry I went to Flickr and brought up a few photos. She practically squealed with delight.and then asked me if I’d heard of V-Babes. Of course I hadn’t.

Turns out, she is a host on an entertainment channel (ahem) in Vegas, and part of her persona includes being in love with everything Elvis. Her stage name is Ava, but she gave me her real personal email address and asked me to email her pictures, in case she could convince her producer to use the material on TV. “You know, I could talk about waiting for Baby Elvis to grow up so I can marry him!” Nothing ever came of it that I know of, but like I was saying, it was a damn good costume.

This Halloween? Well, I haven’t blogged in almost two months, so that tells you something. Work has been… work! So I decided about a week ago to let myself off the hook and save the costume creativity (and self-induced stress) for when it counts, when he gets older. I must say I am a much happier and relaxed mom as a result.

We bought candy at the store Sunday and since I haven’t given Atticus any, he was completely disinterested in it, much to my delight. Later, he said, “Candy?” and I said, “It’s to give out to people on Halloween.” Then everytime he saw the bag, he simply said, “Other people.”We did go to the Halloween festival at the farmers market last weekend, thinking we’d carve one of the free pumpkins, but what was I thinking? Atticus and sharp objects?

Next year… there’ll be a hell of a costume next year!

Field Trip August 12, 2007

After nearly a year off work, I’m returning to the full time grind this Monday, the day after Atticus’ second birthday. When I think back on the priceless time we’ve had together and my opportunity to observe my little boy evolve each day, I realize how extraordinarily blessed I am, both to have had the extended break and to be the mother of such an inquisitive and funny child.

The transition will be hard for both of us, and I think (and hope) he’ll adjust better if he gets used to the idea and has a visual picture of where I’ll be all day. So the past few days I’ve been saying ‘Mommy’s going to go back to work soon,” and “Mommy is going to take the bus to work” and “Mommy has a new office where she’ll be working.”

Atticus buried his face in my neck after waking from his nap yesterday afternoon. But as soon as I asked him if he wanted to see Mommy’s new office, his posture straightened, he visibly brightened and then shouted, “Bus!” Given the late afternoon hour and our dinner plans, Mike dropped us off downtown to save time. He’s usually clingy and shy in new situations, but yesterday he confidently marched through the glass door to the elevator and even with all the unfamiliar faces, he never insisted on me holding him as we toured the maze of cubes. There’s even a nice patio on the roof of the building where we will hopefully have a snack or lunch together when his nanny brings him to visit.

We stopped at Peet’s for an iced tea before we walked a few blocks to catch the bus home. Of course he insisted I carry him all four blocks from our stop to the house. Hopefully the field trip will work to ease the separation. Who knows? Maybe I’ll have a harder time than he will!

It’s hard to believe he’ll be two years old tomorrow. At his playgroup Friday they made a fuss over him and had some special face painting. And he had a special playdate at the farmers market today with his best friend. We’re holding off on the big celebration until next weekend, when the extended family will all be here to watch him blow out the candles.

Yip-pee! July 14, 2007

Shortly after arriving at my cousin’s wedding reception my mother and I said hello to my
godmother, whom I call, “Aunt Joyce”. I hadn’t seen her in several years, and in rapid-fire Chinese I heard her say something to my mom about a striking resemblance to someone. “Who did you say I look like?” I asked Aunt Joyce in English. “A big pop star in Hong Kong,” she replied. “Very famous.”

Later, I was talking to my Aunt May at her table, and a guest directly across from us narrowed her eyes and said, “You know, you really look like Frances Yip.” I turned to my aunt. “Who is that?” “She’s a really big pop star in Hong Kong. You look like her when she was younger.”

Well, given that Frances is now in her 60s I’m relieved that I look like her younger self. On the drive home I went online with my phone and found a photos. I handed my phone to my mom, who was sitting in the backseat with Atticus. “My God!” she exclaimed. “You look like her!”

A bit of Googling and I learn she’s “The Diva of the East”, “a national treasure” and “sings better than Madonna” — and of course, Madonna can’t sing fluently in English, Cantonese and Mandarin. Frances has even sung soundtracks to movies with stars like Chow Yun Fat, who starred in “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon”.
So maybe there’s a future for me as a celebrity impersonator. I’ll fly to Hong Kong, looking very Jackie O with a scarf and glasses, but still get mobbed by ardent fans. I won’t even be able to get through take-off without someone asking me for my autograph. The flight attendants will nudge each other; passengers will whisper their suspicions that Frances has had Botox. Or, some big-time movie director will want to make a movie about Frances’ life, and I’ll land the starring role. (Of course, they’ll have to dub my singing voice.)

Hmmm, can you tell this diva is overtired and needs to go to bed?

The Escape Artist July 13, 2007

We returned mid-Monday afternoon from a long weekend in Vancouver, B.C.. The occasion for my incredible (and it turns out, unfounded) anxiety about traveling in a car for a million hours with Atticus was my cousin’s wedding celebration.

Of course, Atticus put up with being strapped to a car seat for as long as four hours straight with little fuss. It didn’t hurt that I was locked and loaded with every imaginable diversion I could muster, including thrift store toys and books as well as new sticker books and the amazing Color Wonder markers, which were a huge hit. We also caved in and, with a lot of justification and misgivings, bought a portable DVD player the day before we left. A neighbor kindly loaned us several DVDs for the road. Of course, Atticus was way more interested in the cheap $3 headphones that Mike bought him than the DVD player. But during the 90-minute wait at the U.S./Canada border, when he was straining to get out of the seat, the DVD player did come in handy. He just LOVED “Chicka Chicka Boom Boom”, especially the “Trashy Town” story.

What I didn’t anticipate was how energized he’d be by staying in a new environment. All these buttons to touch and rooms to investigate. I couldn’t get him to go to bed for hours. (If only we’d packed the playpen so I could have confined him.) At the reception he was a superstar, making it through the entire 10=course meal and extremely late bedtime with nary a whimper or whine. He couldn’t leave without breaking a glass lampshade at the condo where we stayed, but other than that, the trip was pretty smooth.

Now that we’ve been home for a few days, and he’s been making up his eight-hour sleep deficit, a new sleep pattern has emerged. He wakes up in the middle of the night, screaming for me and only me, inconsolable and unable to sleep unless I bring him to bed. After two nights of this, Mike and I decided last night he’d have to tough it out in the crib. So when Atticus woke up at 4:15, Mike comforted him but wouldn’t bring him to bed. He screamed, “Mommy! Ma-MEEEEE!” at a rate of once every 2 seconds for what seemed like forever. So I dragged my sleepy self in there, gave him a hug and a kiss, patted his back and put him back in his crib. More screaming. Then screeching. Then… a THUD!

He was so intent on getting into bed with us, he climbed out of his crib… without ANY leverage. I ran in there and found him sitting on the carpet, clutching his blanket with one hand and scratching his head with the other. He looked up at me and said, “Lion?” He wanted his stuffed animal. We had no idea he could climb like that. In a way, I’m flattered that he was so determined to overcome any obstacle to be reunited with me. It’s the toddler version of “The English Patient” when Ralph Fiennes character endures countless challenges (the desert, being arrested, etc.) to get back to whats-her-name British actress, who is in fact dead in a cave. But I digress.

I am not ready for him to move out of the crib yet! We are going to bed tonight unsure of what to expect, since letting him settle back down in bed is no longer a viable strategy.

Happy 23 Months, Atticus!

ER — no, not the TV show May 29, 2007

Funny, after I posted last, Atticus woke up in the best mood Saturday — chipper, laughing, energetic — and we thought, “Ah, we are FINALLY getting over this hump!” I took him to the farmers market, and while he still had a bit of a bloody maw while eating his oversized muffin from Blue Gardenia and was a bit more inclined to stay in the stroller, he was still 1,000% better than he had been.

Then yesterday he was unusually clingy and whiny, a bit more tired than normal. He did rally after dinner, when my mom gave him some of her dessert. But today, he was exceedingly tired. He woke up at 6:20, went back to bed at 8 a.m. for over two hours, then slept again between 11 and noon, and yet again from 1:30 to 3:30 p.m. He wasn’t interested in doing anything, and insisted I hold him constantly. Then I noticed a rash this afternoon, and the doctor said to take him to the ER. We are truly lucky to live so close to the top children’s hospital, with its own children’s ER room. Too bad we didn’t realize this when we took Atticus to the ER last June, but that’s a story for another time.

We were there for three hours. The doctor noticed his throat looked red, said his rash wasn’t anything to worry about, and said he thought Atticus had coxsackievirus or hand-foot-mouth disease. He said it’s pretty common this time of year, and almost every kid has been exposed to it. Atticus’ lethargy did concern him, so he ordered a blood test to make sure he didn’t have weird blood cell counts or diabetes. This meant Atticus got an IV on the back of his hand, which DID NOT STICK the first time they tried — the nurse moved the needle around a bit and the poor guy was yelling, “Ma! Da!” over and over. They ended up giving him a saline drip for an hour.

The blood test came back normal — with indication that he is indeed fighting off a virus. So it’s lots of rest, fluids and hopefully he’ll be back to normal by Wednesday.

Not coincidentally, Atticus’ new word for today was “home”.

A bloody mess May 26, 2007

Five reasons for not posting

1. 2nd molar coming in
2. 2nd molar coming in
3. 2nd molar coming in
4. 2nd molar coming in
5. Gingivostomatitis

It started with a fever that lingered for more than a week — we didn’t think it was teething, but, yup, doctor said all four of his second molars are coming in. A little more than a week later, he got this odd sore on his lip, and when his gums just practically gushed blood when he bit into the softest food, we were back at the doctor last weekend and got the diagnosis of the viral infection. And Mike took him back in yet again yesterday, because we were worried that the bleeding hadn’t really let up much a week later. Seems we just need to wait it out.

In the meantime, today was particularly taxing for our poor boy. He woke up around 5:30 a.m., calling out for either of us (“Mom! Dah?”) — it sounded more anxious than usual. Half awake, I stumbled in to find he was apparently dying of thirst, urgently signing for milk or water (his made-up sign for water consists of hitting the palm of his hand over his open mouth while he lets out a whoop, kind of like the noise you make when you’re playing cowboys and Indians).

After a few sips of water and his medicine, we rocked for awhile, and then moved to the sofa, where he fell on sleep first on top of me for almost two hours. After he woke up, we rallied him and went out for breakfast, but he ended up mostly clinging to me the whole time. He wouldn’t nap without me, so I decided to put him in our bed, where he curled up in a tight little knot next to me and feverishly slept for a few hours.

He’s let me explore the back of his mouth with my pinkie a few times. It’s puffy, and there’s only one molar that’s slightly breaking through. I have a feeling this is what life will be like for weeks to come. I just hope that once the viral infection passes he’ll be a bit more comfortable.

Freaky coincidence or artistic genius? May 3, 2007

We have an odd collection of rocks and shore debris that has been collected over the years from numerous vacations to the coasts of Northern California and Gabriola Island. What these pieces all have in common is that we see faces in them. There’s one oceanic relic that looks like Richard Nixon… seriously! And there are alien faces and just odd human-like profiles. Admitting we have accumulated this modest assortment says something about us, but we’re not sure what. And now Atticus has added to our collection with a work of his own.

Several weeks ago I asked Atticus’ nanny to make some homemade play dough. (She used the cooked recipe from a book I ordered called Things to Do with Toddlers and Twos.)

He looooves play dough — he’ll entertain himself for at least 20 minutes. And thanks to a tip from my friend Cheryl, there’s hardly any mess because I only allow him to play with it in the high chair.

So this afternoon, after I’d wiped his tray clean from his snack, Atticus said, “Pa-doh,” and motioned toward the kitchen drawer where I keep the dough and various accessories — an authentic Playdoh hammer with a wheel that rolls a dotted pattern onto the dough, a plastic knife, and a skinny chopstick, the kind that comes free with your takeout order.

After emptying the Ziploc bag of the dough and handing him the tools of the trade, I decided to give my brother a quick call. As he and I chatted, I absentmindedly rolled some dough into small balls and put them on Atticus’ tray so he could smoosh and destroy them, which is his favorite activity.

Minutes later, with my head tilted to my shoulder to cradle the phone, I saw out of the corner of my eye what looked like a face on Atticus’ tray. I squinted. I kept talking to my brother. I circled back with a furrowed brow. Could it? Was it? Wordlessly I rescued the lump from destruction and placed it on the breakfast table.

We’ve had the chance to ooh and awe over this, and wonder how he, at 20 months, could have possibly made this even accidentally much less purposely. While the dough was still moist, I etched his name and today’s date on the back. This will have a prominent place in the permanent collection of his childhood memorabilia.

Taste of Summer April 29, 2007

Last night we decided to go out for a quick bite, so we drove down to the Pearl to our favorite pizza place. We were only about a block and a half away from Jamison Square, which has a huge, beautifully designed water feature that’s designed for splashing and climbing. We headed there after dinner for an impromptu romp.

Though Atticus is quite famlilar with Jamison Square, most recently he’s been there in late winter with me droning repetitively in his ear, “Don’t get your shoes soaked,” or “Careful splashing, you’ll get your jeans wet, and it’s freezing out!” So it’s not surprising that he looked at us last night with disbelief, as if to say, “You’re really going to let me do this?”

He got soaked to the skin. While he was gleefully cavorting in the water, Mike walked over to Sip & Kranz to get Atticus his favorite milkshake — it’s got orange juice and fresh basil it. Before we got in the car I stripped him down to his diaper . And there he sat, almost naked, happily sucking down a shake.

Who Needs a Teddy Bear? April 22, 2007

He woke up around 6:40 a.m., saying “Ball, ball, ball,” and entertained himself for almost an hour. At various times we also heard him say, “Happy! Happy!”

Dandelion Boy April 9, 2007

I regret not blogging more often — not long after I started this blog, I initiated a job hunt, which has involved a lot of networking and talking to recruiters for the most part. It’s taken up more time and energy than I anticipated.

We spent this past weekend in Seattle without Atticus; Mike bought tickets to see Greg Brown, not knowing the date coincided with Easter. It was a super-easy train ride to and from there. The station was even within short walking distance of the hotel. After the concert, we had a fabulous late dinner at the Purple Cafe, and got a peek into the lives of all the young hipsters who don’t eat dinner until after 10 p.m. It was our first real getaway together since Atticus was born; going to a hotel downtown last December kind of counts, but kind of doesn’t.

My mom took Atticus to an Easter egg hunt at our backyard neighbor’s house. There were 20 or more kids there, and Atticus found 14 eggs! Instead of racing competitively to find the eggs, my mom said Atticus took his time and meandered around, scoring a big basketful. When we got home Sunday afternoon, Atticus handed me a plastic yellow egg that he was struggling to open. After I took it from him, he made the sign for “bird” with his index and thumb (like a bird’s beak opening and closing) — inside was a fluffy chick.

He loves that thing like it’s a real pet. He had the chick give his rocking horse a kiss, gave it a ride on the horse, took it to his kitchen to feed it a piece of plastic lettuce and brushed its hair. He also put it in his mouth and now its hair is all matted, like it has major bedhead. I can’t help but wonder if he’s so sweet and caring because one of his favorite books of late is “Mole and the Baby Bird”.

Last week Atticus started participating twice a week in a shared childcare arrangement with about six other families. Basically, we share a nanny with pre-school experience and the idea is for the kids have “pre-pre-school” time together for the next 18-24 months (or however long it takes for them to get to pre-school age). There aren’t more than four kids at a time, and it lasts for four hours in the morning, rotating from house to house. It felt like his first day of kindergarten for me — I’ve never dropped him off anywhere before, and it really hit me how fast he’s growing up.

I don’t know how Mike and I produced such a delicate, timid little soul, but Atticus has just been heartbroken the three times I’ve left him. The other kids barely notice their moms leaving and get right to playing, but according to the nanny Atticus is pretty much crying or withdrawn the whole time I’m gone. Right now he’s only there for two hours — we’ll work up to longer over the next several weeks. The nanny says she’s transitioned a lot of kids, and that this is normal, especially for a kid like Atticus who’s never been cared for outside the home. And I know he needs to acclimate to new situations, kids and caregivers, so I think this is a good experience for him in the long run.

Otherwise, we’ve been busy in playing in the dirt. Now that I’ve taught Atticus to identify a few weeds, he is obsessed with them to the point that he spent about five minutes underneath the monkey bars at the playground, pulling about 20 weeds up. Parks & Recreation needs to put him on payroll.