On stealing and peanut butter...

While driving home, the topic of stealing comes up. Carl uses the opportunity to try and teach Julia about stealing and what isn't stealing...
Carl: "So Julia, what if you are in someone's house and you take something without asking...."
Julia: "Like peanut butter?"
Carl: "Uhm, yea sure...Is that stealing?"
Julia: "Yes."
Carl: "now what if you're in a forest..."
Julia: "what if you take peanut butter from the fridge? is that stealing?"
Carl: "If you didn't ask yes....now if you were in the..."
Julia: "What if you take the peanut butter from the fridge to make a sandwich and didn't ask."
Carl: "Yes, now forget about the peanut butter..."
Julia: "what if you take the peanut butter from the fridge, didn't ask and tried to open it but couldn't and put it back in the fridge?"
Carl: "Forget about the peanut butter!!!"
Me: "Wait a minute, Julia did you try to open the peanut butter from the fridge?"
Julia: "No. Never, mommy. I never steal peanut butter and jelly from the fridge! It's too hard to open."

On Julia....

I grappled with writing this post since much of what I write on here is mainly about Julia and non private events (though Julia may disagree as she’s older).  But I know many of you have been wondering what happened to me and those of you who know what’s going on are probably wondering if I’m ok.  I’ve ignored a bunch of texts, emails and phone calls and I’m very sorry about that.  This may surprise some of you, but I hate interacting with people.  You may think I’m social and I may play a pretty good game at being so at work, but truth be told, I hate talking to you.  Nothing personal, I’m just really socially awkward and find having to exchange conversation face to face or over the phone rather aversive unless we are both drunk.  I haven’t spoken to many people about this, in fact, the only people I spoke to were in this order; my best friend, my husband, my boss/mentor/friend, my mother and heartbreakingly, my Juju.  Ultimately, I’ve decided to write this to avoid having to explain or tell you in person, to pay homage to my beautiful  Julia and to hopefully help me heal.

Unfortunately, my Christmas Day was spent having a miscarriage at 12 weeks, being rushed to the ER and having an emergency D&C (a procedure to remove the baby and all products of the pregnancy).  Worse, my poor Carl has been dealing with all of this with a fever, chills and a nasty throat infection. As I commented to Carl on our way home from this whole ordeal at 6:30 in the evening, “Well, Merry Fucking Christmas!”

I’ve officially known I had a missed miscarriage since 5 nights ago, there was no heartbeat and I was scheduled for a D&C on Tuesday due to the holiday weekend.  Knowing my luck, I kind of instinctively thought this would happen to me on Christmas but I was hoping I would last till Tuesday.  We were able to push through in the morning so that Julia could open her gifts, but shortly after, I was bleeding so much that we began rushing to the hospital.  I made it, I’m physically ok, I went under, I never bled so much in my freaking life and hopefully this is the beginning to an end and I can move on.  This is about Julia and how she handled the loss of the baby.

You see, Julia has wanted a sibling for a very long time now.  She has pestered me about it for a while.  She thinks we are the family from The Incredibles movie – I’m Elasti-girl, Carl is Mr. Incredible and she’s Dash-the fast running boy in the family.  Since she’s seen the movie, every other day or so, she makes us put our hands in together and say “Go Incredibles!” or “Super Incredible Family!” or “Super Golden Incredible Family – to the rescue!” and we all have to throw our hands up in the air.  In order to really complete this family, Julia would remind us that we needed a Violet (the daughter in The Incredibles).  At my 8 week appointment, we took Julia to break the news to her.  When she finally understood that I was having a baby, she clapped her hands together, put on my Dad’s kool-aid grin and said “I’m going to be a Je-je (the Chinese word for big sister)!”  Nearly every day afterwards, before we’d go to sleep, she would lift my shirt up and talk to the baby.  “Baby, I’m going to hold you and take care of you.  Baby, I’m going to feed you.  I’m going to be your Je-je but I won’t change your diapers because I’m too little for that and I don’t want to get poop on my hands.”   

We wanted to wait till after Christmas to tell her about the miscarriage, but after two days of her trying to lift my shirt to talk to my belly…I just couldn’t.  And so I told her.  At first, I started with telling her that the baby got very sick.  She gasped and wanted to know how and why the baby was sick.  She then said “Well, the doctor will make the baby feel better.”  I had to break it to her that the baby had died.  She immediately covered her eyes and tears began streaming out fast.  She bawled, “So I’m not going to be a big sister?”  This was probably the most heartbreaking thing I have ever had to do and it just killed me that I hurt her so much and that she was feeling this loss more than I expected.  I told her that we would try again and promised her that she would be a big sister one day.  She started asking me when did I know, when did the doctor know and did Daddy find out and does Daddy know.  When she realized that I knew “yesterday” (her idea of passage of time is all yesterday if it didn’t occur today), she seemed very offended and exclaimed, “Daddy knows, you know and the doctor knows.  But I didn’t know.”  And later into the conversation she said “I knew the baby was dead.  I thought it in school that the baby was dead yesterday.”  When I told Carl about this piece of our conversation, we were both kind of floored.  This does not seem like a 4 year olds reaction and we clearly understood then that we had a made a mistake in not telling her the night we knew. Apparently, she is quite intuitive for a just-turned-4, 4 year old.  At the end of this conversation, Julia said to me in very typical Julia fashion, “I don’t want to talk about dying.  Dying is a bad word.  I don’t want to talk about this anymore.  Why do you have sad eyes? Don’t have sad eyes, I will sing you a song” and she began singing “You Are My Sunshine”.  She stopped in the middle and said, “Mommy, I’m your golden sunshine and the baby that died will be called the golden baby.”  And that was the end of the conversation. 

We didn’t tell her that we were going to the hospital today.  As we were rushing to drop her off at my parents, she began to say, “Mommy, when we have a new baby and I’m a Je-je again…….” She rambled off some Christmasy things and I began silently crying and didn't hear what else she said.  I mumbled a “yes” and she began happily singing Christmas songs she made up.  Throughout this, I would’ve been a terrible mess if it wasn’t for Julia.  Each day she makes me smile and I feel so blessed and lucky to have her in my life. 

Please don’t tell me you are sorry or sorry for my loss.  I understand that things happen and happen for a reason and believe me when I tell you, I’m sorry enough for the both of us. I’m even sorrier for Julia’s loss but if my girl can accept her “Golden Baby” and see so brightly into the future, so can I.  I can’t be so sad anymore and no one needs to be sad for me or for us.  It’s Christmas and I’ve got my family.

Julia – you are my heart and soul.  I hope that everybody I know can know and feel the light, joy and positive energy that you bring.  Merry Christmas and I hope that 2012 will make you a Je-je again.  I love you so damn much. 

On How the School System Doesn't Support The Working Parent... Part 2

I don't know if I was in complete denial or how it is that I never realized this fact, but I was always blissfully ignorant of how Julia entering the school system would change things as a working parent.  I thought it was stressful just figuring out who was going to take care of her when she was a baby.  But babysitters and daycare centers work around your work schedule.  Despite working in a school, I mistakenly thought that I was in the best position to be able to either drop her off and/or pick her up at school when she started because we would follow a similar schedule.  Since starting Pre-K, it turns out that I can't do either. She cannot start school any earlier than 8:20 and cannot leave school any later than 2:40.  My work schedule is from 8:00-3:30.  So close, yet not close enough.  This new schedule has made it very difficult to work around for both Carl and I.  Carl now drops her off at school which required a reluctant adjustment in his schedule and my parents pick her up daily which was a very reluctant option for me.  Unfortunately, my parents are off to China next week for the next 6 weeks and my best friend and I will be sharing that duty until they return, which means I have to adjust my work schedule which isn't the most preferred option considering I work in a school. But that's temporary and even relying on my parents when they get back is too.  Unfortunately, the after school program housed at Julia's school does not accept Pre-K students right now but it irks me that I will eventually have to depend on and pay for an after school program for the next several years until she can become a "latch key kid" (another thing I hate) just so I can work .

And there's more.

Since Julia started Pre-K, there have been numerous events parents are invited to participate in - fundraisers, mainly, but some other things like "Reading Day" where parents come in and read to their child and classmate(s), school trips to the farm and parent volunteers for Picture Day.  These have or will take place during the day and I will have missed them all.  Just recently, Julia informed me that her classmates parents will be chaperoning her school trip and she asked me why I wouldn't be doing the same.  I gave my usual pat answer, "Well, because mommy needs to make money."  She proceeded to inform me that we already had money, that Daddy makes money too and then continued to question my need to work and miss the field trip.  Be reminded that she will be turning 4 in December.  Needless to say, I was completely blown away by this conversation and not soon after felt pretty darn horrible. 

All of these factors make me question how it's even possible to even BE a full time working parent with a school aged child?  My situation in life does not allow me to NOT work and I know that that's the situation for most, especially if you are living in NYC. Although there will be plenty of school event opportunities that I should be able to at least participate in twice or more during the school year and the never ending PTA/Fundraising events at night that I will be involved in, I'd really would like to be involved in the majority of them but I can't.  It really bothers me that schools do not seem to get that and adapt to that.  Luckily, I have a nice support system in place with family, friends and a job that will work with me - I'm fortunate in that respect.  But what happens when I don't have that support system in place anymore?  What do families without one or single working parents do? How do you negotiate the 5 hour school day with your 8 hour work day? How do you participate and feel a sense of involvement in your child's education without it conflicting with your responsibilities at work?   And what about school vacations/holidays?  How do you monitor, supervise and stay involved in your child's life when they're not in school and your work schedule doesn't follow the same school schedule?

Perhaps I'm wrong and instead of the school system working around the working parents, we need to reform our work standards.  Instead of the typical 9 - 5, it should be 9 - 3:00 and our vacation schedule matches up with each other.  But until Hell freezes over, I will be forever trying to work out the right balance between working and parenting - or well, at least until she graduates high school.

On moving to the big time....Part 1 - Applying to Pre-K!

I was not intending on sending Julia off to public school.  I had every intention of keeping her at daycare across the street from my job, twice a week, paying $630 a month and to do so for another year.  When the daycare staff asked me if she was going to PreK, I said “Nope!” and didn’t think twice about it.

And then I had my first play date with a parent from Julia’s daycare who happened to be a mother of three and clearly much more experienced in this parenting business than me.  She questioned about PreK and brought up the hook, line and sinker…. Public School PreK is free!  But it was June and she was pretty certain that I had missed the deadline for it anyway and I accepted that.  But the thought kept bugging me….

And when thoughts keep bugging me, I go to the Almighty Inter-web to settle my mind and seek answers. And yes, I did miss the deadline.  As it turns out, NYC begins their PreK application process sometime in March and provides their acceptance letters in June. But because there are so many parents looking for placement for PreK who didn’t get in, NYC offers a round 2 which occurs around July.  The Almighty Inter-Web hath spoken!  I was apparently meant to apply!

The NYC PreK process is a lottery system with a priority hierarchy in place.  Your child is more likely to be accepted if your child has a sibling in the school.  There are several other priorities but the lowest one would be not having a sibling and applying to a school that’s out of your borough.  You can choose up to 12 schools anywhere in NYC and based on that priority system and random selection, if the seat is available in the school, then you’re in.

The man and I reviewed every school available for full time PreK in our district and neighboring district.  I mean we REVIEWED.  We looked up their current progress reports from the DOE website and looked up personal reviews from around the web. We strategically choose 12 schools in order of preference and digitally sent our application on its way.  Although our zoned school and my alma mater had available seats, we purposefully left it off.  Very few of the schools we listed were in our district since their progress reports were not the greatest.  We were also concerned about her ability to be accepted by the large proportion of Flushing kids likely to be enrolled in the school since we’ve already had a taste of her being ousted on a local playground by Chinese immigrant families and their children because of Julia’s Chinese mom and Caucasian dad.       

Instead our first choice was a) a school that was extremely well rated, had great progress reports, had recently won awards and was the most sought after school in Queens and b) had just opened up a PreK program in the 2^nd round – so the likelihood of people applying would be slim.  I prepared Carl for the possibility of not getting into any school or getting into one of our less preferred choices.  A large part of me secretly hoped that would be the case as I really was not ready for her to go to school.  School started for all NYC public school children on September 8^th.  We were not informed of her acceptance and placement until August 31^st at 10 p.m. via email.

It was like receiving a letter from Harvard or Yale (or Queens College – teehee!).  I was nervous and wanted the placement to be a good school and at the same time wanted it to say she was not accepted.  As it turns out, we were accepted into our first choice school.  Once again, fate decided for me.  How could I turn down the first choice and most sought after school in Queens?  I believe I did some serious crying at that moment.  Julia, who had been saying she wanted to go to her old school to see her best friend, saw me bawling my eyes out and said, “Mommy, it’s ok.  Don’t cry, Julia’s here. I’m going to have so much fun at my new school! I want to go to my new school! I’m so excited!”.  Either my Beastly Beast was intent on making me cry some more or she’s the sweetest little girl in the world! Once again, fate decided for me… Pre-K, here we come, ready or not!

Things I learned for my pals who are NYC parents:

1 - Sign up for email notification from NYC DOE so you know when to apply

2- You also need to apply for Kindergarten even if your child attends a NYCDOE Pre-K program - but you apply at the school of your choice

3 - Be ready to cry and feel unprepared but for your child not to.

On how I miss sleeping oh so very much....(yet another middle of the night blogging)

I miss deep sleeping. I don't know when I was able to do that last - actually that may have been three weeks ago after dental surgery and some heavy doses of vicodin but before that, I really can't remember the last time I slept well. I mean really slept well - the kind of sleep you do the moment your head hits the pillow and your mind listlessly wanders off as you become less and less cognizant of the familiar nightly noises in the dark. The kind of deep sleep that the next time you open your eyes, it's a beautiful morning and that god awful annoying alarm you've set didn't even go off yet. It's the kind of sleep you wake up from and think to yourself, "Gosh, I think I DO want to go to work today!" I can't remember the last time that has happened in the past 3 years.

My lack of sleep is to blame on, of course, The Beast. She is still in our bed and her usual antics at night such as kicking me in the head, punching me in the face, scraping me with her toenails (I swear I cut them! I have no idea why they are always so damn sharp!) and/or gradually pushing me closer and closer to the edge of my bed, all while she's in deep sleep has kept me a light sleeper for the past 3 1/2 years. But more recently, in addition to all of the above, Julia will occasionally have foot pain at night where she wakes up screaming and crying. Unfortunately, there is not much that can be done about this. According to the Almighty Google, this is actually pretty common in toddlers and may be a result of a) an overactive day, b) lack of potassium/calcium/or other vitamin, c) bad shoes d) a tiny fracture or e) some 'effed up disease that hurts my brain to even say. The only remedy is to either massage her little feet and provide a Toy Story bandaid if requested or turn over three times, stand on my head, shake some peacock feathers over her foot and say "oolah boolah" 5x (I usually do the first, if you're wondering....usually....sometimes I get desperate though...). Julia also wakes up to go to the potty in the middle of the night but lately requires our intervention, lest we want to sleep in pee all night. Want to know real pain? When BOTH of these things happens in the same night (along with all of the sleep kicking, scratching, hitting and pushing me off the bed) aka why I'm up tonight!!

Julia has been nighttime potty trained for quite some time and she has typically held it in overnight. Occasionally, she would wake up and go to the bathroom with very little help from us. Recently, in the past month (or in my tired eyes, FOREVER!), she has been waking up nearly every night to go to the bathroom. She sits up, poised and ready to go but starts to fall back asleep. We have to wake her and tell her to go to the bathroom which leads to her crying..very loudly crying... and very slowly making her way to the bathroom as she orients herself. This has resulted in some accidents while in the bathroom because she took too long getting there. Which in turn, has resulted in me having to get fresh undies, cleaning a puddle of pee next to the toilet (my favorite thing to do at 1 in the morning!), cleaning the Beast and getting her back to bed. My dear ole hubby, my loving, wonderful partner and father to my daughter has decided after many nights of unsatisfactory sleeping conditions, has opted (and has opted many times in the past) to sleep in the living room undisturbed. This, of course, did not deter me from stomping loudly past the couch he was snoring on, muttering obscenities with "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you" and snidely remarking "enjoying your sleep?" while I was getting fresh underwear.... (I don't mean to be a bitch, but I'm very passive aggressive when I'm cranky.)

I have ALWAYS had sleeping problems nearly my entire adult life. If I wake up in the middle of the night, my brain has great difficulty zoning out. It just starts going and I can't stop it until I satisfy it somehow and that usually takes form of jotting down notes, checklists or writing in my journal. In recent years, this has been the product of solving problems at work or a blog post. Adding Julia to my sleeping issues has been really problematic for me. Although many would say it's time to move her out of my bed, I don't feel the time is right right now with her potty issues and all. In fact, I think co-sleeping has helped save my mattress and eventually, hers, from nightly soaks. Her health and development for my sanity is worth it in my eyes and I will be sure to remind her of my sacrifices every day of her life once she turns into a bratty tweenager. However, I will say this and I don't care how backwards or antiquated or anti-fem I sound.... Mothers should not work. There. I said it. I can't believe I said it but I said it. Quite honestly, I do not know how working mothers do it - I don't know how I do it. With all the demands of raising a child, being a working mother means having two full time jobs. I literally don't know how I wake up every morning to go to work. Growing up, I always assumed I would be a working mother, never thought twice about it. Prior to being a mother, even up to the day I gave birth, I never questioned being a working mother. But I had no idea what I was in for. I find it impossible to manage the daily grind of work with the sleepless nights, the sick days for both me and the child, the babysitter's sick days, the limited quality time allowed and add that to the relationship with the spouse and managing the house..... it's absolutely impossible!!!

Would I change it if I could? Probably not. After all, I wouldn't be me if I did. I just hope Julia appreciates that when she's older.

In any event, deep sleep may not be too far away. I'm going away for a conference this Memorial Weekend sans family for four wonderful nights. I really hope Carl enjoys his sleep tonight....

On More Lies I Tell Julia...

Conversation with Julia during breakfast:

Julia: "Mom, look at my fur on my arms!"
Me: "Fur?!"
Julia: "Oh, I mean ha...."
Me: "Daddy! You forgot to shave her last night!"
(Julia looks quizzically between me and Carl)
Me: "I guess its time to tell you, Julia. The truth is....you're really a cat."
Julia: "NO!"
Me: "Yeah, at night you turn into a cat and Daddy has to shave all your fur off while you're sleeping...and cut off your tail and whiskers before you wake up."
Julia: "No! I'm not a cat!"
Me: "Daddy, tell her!"
Carl: "Yup, you're a cat!"
Me: "See?!"
Julia: "I'm..NOT...A....CAT!"
Carl: "Mommy, did you understand her? Oh my god, she's meowing now!"
Julia: "I'M...NOT...A...CAT!!! I SAID I'M NOT A CAT!"
Me: "What? Meow?"

After about 2-3 minutes of this, Carl snickers to me: "Man, she's going to need a lot of therapy when she's an adult, thanks to us."
Me: "Nah, she's well adjusted. Aren't you well adjusted, Julia?"
Julia: "Meow."

On death and dying...

One day, while waiting for Carl in the car while he visited his father's grave, Julia, being naturally inquisitive, asked what we were doing there. I told her we were visiting her other grandpa - Grandpa Bob.

"Remember, the picture with daddy in the funny hat? He was with his daddy. That's your grandpa Bob."

"Oh." Looking around, "Where is he?"

"Well, he's gone, honey. He's not with us anymore."

"Where did he go?"

"Well he's in the ground..." Sensing that this would not make much sense and catching a slight worry in her face, I continued, "and he's in the air, in the mountains, in the trees, in the grass and he's also in you too."

This certainly wasn't the first time we ever talked about death and where people go when they die. It's part of our Chinese culture to visit our passed loved ones' graves yearly in April. During these annual visits a number of rituals are completed at each grave, such as an offering of a huge spread of food like a side of roasted pork, a whole chicken, oranges, apples and some sweets on the grave, some shots of liquor, lit candles and incense and burning of fake money and clothes to get them through the afterlife. Julia has participated in searching for rocks to keep the newspaper that the food is placed on from flying away, watched in awe as Carl or my father stab the burning "valuables" so nothing gets missed and walked with me as I placed a small bunch of incense at each neighboring grave site to pay them respect too. She followed along with the above rituals and kowtowed three times to each grave we visited to people she never met; my great uncle, my grandma who I miss every single day, my grandpa and my great-great grandma who lived to like 104! And she's watched as more elaborate families on these yearly "Hang San"events, have a whole roasted pig laid out and firecrackers going to scare away the evil spirits.

There wasn't much thought involved when it came to whether or not we should expose the darker side to life to Julia. These regular visits were very normalized events for me growing up and the people we visited made us remember who they were in life. But it's easier to discuss and explain death in spirits and rituals to a 3 year about people she's never met, but not so easy when it hits closer to home.

3-4 weeks ago, we came home and found my beloved cat Peepee in convulsions on the living room floor. I had to be harshly told several times to bring Julia upstairs because I was in near hysterics. When I finally ushered Julia upstairs, I panicked and probably walked in circles as Julia desperately tried to get me to talk to her. At that moment, I couldn't get my senses together. I had enough for me to manage to call the Vet Hospital my good friend works at but that was about it. I spent the whole car ride over, apologizing to Peepee for not spending more time with him. I think by the time the doctor pulled me out not wanting Julia to hear the news and catching the grave look on my friend's face, I knew I had to pull myself together. The doctor asked if I wanted Julia with us while she put my beautiful cat to sleep and without hesitation, I answered, "Yes, of course."

I do not regret that decision, Julia really did quite well and was able to say her goodbyes to Peepee. She kissed him several times and lovingly petted his head. We even had some time to sit with him a little bit afterwards and were able to talk about what happened more. Our good friend came in and we chatted about what a great cat Peepee was, my gentle beast and laughed about how he got his name.

In one night, Julia got a huge life lesson on things other than rainbows, princesses, unicorns and of course, Toy Story. She saw fear, hurt, pain, remorse and grief. And like life's cycle, she saw acceptance, humor, laughter and remembrance.

We explained to Julia that Peepee would return to us but in a small box and Carl explained, as best you can to a 3 year old, how the box would be filled with Peepee's ashes and one day we would spread his ashes (and all of our pets that passed on) back to the mountains, dirt, grass, trees, air, water....

I don't think Juju quites gets everything yet although she does have a basic understanding of what it means to be dead and what to be alive. Occasionally, she makes me cry when she tells me "Mommy, I miss my cat Peepee" but then she runs over to me and says "It's o.k., Mommy. He's o.k." and I know she's right.

On why green tokens are better than red tokens...

I've finally decided that the beastly beast must have some structured discipline, so I got all "Supernanny" on her butt and put her on a token system. One day after work, in about 2 hours, I printed out a sheet with 5 words with visuals that she could earn a green token for; listening, staying dry at night, cleaning up her toys, eating all her dinner and waking up nicely in the morning. I also printed out 3 things she could earn a red token for; throwing a tantrum, throwing toys and hitting others (that's right, don't be fooled by that sweet cherub face of hers, she's been known to whack ya!). Finally, I printed out 4 different pictures of some of her favorite activities with the amount of green tokens she needed to earn to receive each of them. The most prized activity being a Toy Story movie for all 10 green tokens - (so happy she is not into princesses too much anymore, but DAMN is she OBSESSED with Toy Story!). And finally, I cut out a token board out of foam board and velcroed a CRAPLOAD of green and red tokens I had kicking around (most ABA home case special ed teachers tend to have similar things scattered around the house...i.e. laminating sheets, rulers, pencils, velcro, stickers, bubbles and every imaginable toy that can fit in a bag swung over your shoulder...)

The rules are simple - earn enough green tokens for any of the specific behaviors I indicated above, then exchange them at each prize level for a desired activity until she has earned all 10 and the "final" prize and then repeat. Earn 3 red tokens for any of the specific behaviors I indicated above, then go to "time out". Continue to earn red tokens (God help me if that day EVER happens...) then feel Mama's wrath... Ok, I didn't quite say that but I did tell her green tokens start disappearing and baaaaaad things were going to happen. Hey! Never said I was the perfect mother!

So I explained the rules to "The Beast" and immediately started her off. I left 6 green tokens on, gave her an easy direction which she complied with and awarded her with a green token. The first prize level required 7 tokens (watching one of her shows on Nick Jr) which I exchanged with her immediately after I had her count the tokens and identify what she earned. Over the next 2 hours, we went up to earning all 10 tokens in total (really 4 tokens since I was still keeping 6 on the board) and she seemed quite pleased with herself. Not a single red token was dispensed but I made sure to spend a little time doing the "Oh no, we don't want any red tokens, do we?! That would be baaad!" talk.

The next night, "The Beast" threw a tantrum and I immediately gave her a red token. For someone who didn't get the consequence of receiving 3 red tokens yet, she FLIPPED! She didn't want to put her red token on her board and was so upset that she actually even attempted to try and remove it while I wasn't looking. It was a sad night for her and she did everything in her power to fill the rest of the empty slots with green tokens and start over again.

The night after that, when it was time to restart her token system, she said "Mommy, I don't want to do the tokens anymore. I'm finished with them." Gah! I've somehow made the whole experience aversive!!! Not expecting my almost 3 year old child to say this to me, I composed myself and explained to her this is how it was going to run in the Lai-Waters household. Like it or leave it - then gave her another easy night filled with opportunities to earn her tokens and reap the benefits from them.

It's been a month now since I've implemented this system and for the most part it's working out about as I intended and like most things in life, it has its ups and downs. Most people assumed that Juju has been so out of control that I needed to hone in on my behavior analytic skillz and "ABA" her little behind straight. But the truth is, Julia, for the most part, is a pretty well behaved little girl. Don't get me wrong she has THOSE moments - I mean moments where I look at Carl and think "That little sh*t! I can't believe she just said that to us!" - but those moments are few and far between. Some discipline and structure is good for my little Juju's soul and really, really good for us 'rents.

For a little while there, Juju had an uncomfortably large amount of television in her life. So much so, that the she constantly asks for "myyyyyy t.v." and sweet talks a.k.a manipulates her way into watching t.v. She actually tried bargaining with my mother for t.v.! "Paw Paw, I have to watch t.v. so I can eat all my lunch." The tokens helps minimize the amount of t.v. she watches to a more reasonable amount (about 1 show a night). In addition, for us two hard working parents, it can be very difficult to remember to give a little praise and attention to the things our little beast does right but so easy for us to blow our fuse when she's doing something wrong. I will always be a parent but I'm not always the perfect parent and sometimes I'm a downright horrible parent (especially on days when work makes me want to gouge my eyeballs out) but this token system has been a great way to keep mom (and dad) in check. We identified specific things we knew we needed her to work on (leaving her toys all over the house was driving us mad) and we knew recognizing when she did something good was something we needed to work on. So although there have been days where I wanted to shell out a hundred red tokens her way, I take a little breath, remember my rules and follow them as planned. This way, Julia knows what to expect and I know what to do....in the meantime at least.....

On words I'm not allowed to say anymore.....(dammit!)

A few months ago, Julia became quite independent going to the bathroom by herself. I was quite relieved the day I was able to say "Go to the potty" and she would head up the stairs and into the bathroom without requiring any assistance and much supervision at all. She is able to do everything; even flip the light switch when necessary. When it got hot, Carl would often manually shut the light fixture above our sink off at the base to save energy but leave the bathroom fan on for cross ventilation at night. This would then only allow the light switch to control the fan. Of course, this created a huge disturbance in my two minutes of peace that I gained whenever Julia couldn't turn on the light. After the fifth or sixth time of me climbing up the stairs to turn on the light for Julia, I grumbled, "Daddy's so stupid! He turned off the light again!" Needless to say, Julia loved that and went straight to Daddy when she was done and said "Daddy, you're so stupid! You turned off the light!"

I tried desperately to shift the blame, sheepishly looked at Carl and said "Oh my, where ever did she learn that word?" But of course, I wasn't bullshitting anyone. To make up for it, I had the talk with Julia about how saying stupid is a very bad thing and how mommy was wrong for saying such an awful, awful word. Sigh.

Unfortunately, the word "stupid" is, apparently, a huge part of my vocabulary and Julia, the bad word police, lets me know EVERY SINGLE TIME I SAY IT. She will even go into a 20 second tirade (as eloquently as a 2 year old can) about how terrible it is.

"Mommy, you said stupid! How can you say that? That's not good! That's a bad word! We don't say that! How you say that? We can't say stupid! Don't say that again, ok? Mommy, ok? Stupid is a bad word!"

And as the months have gone on, we have also had to add; "hate", "freaking" (but according to Carl, "freaking out" is ok), "crap", and "dammit".

The worst part is, is that not only am I annoyed at being reprimanded by my 2 year old and annoyed at myself for obviously having an extremely defunct filter, but I also realized that SHE'S IMITATING ME!! CRAP! I'M AN ANNOYING NAG!

And now I've taught Julia to be one too....sigh....

On Julia's second playground brawl...

On yet another day spent looking to entertain the kids, my best friend, her husband and her 3 and 6 year old daughters and my little family decided to spend a Sunday together. We headed out to South Street Seaport and ate at Cowgirl Sea-Horse, a place very kid friendly with a delicious menu that includes some organic dishes. It was also a place that really understands and gets to the heart of things, because an absolutely delicious Bloody Mary was the first thing they offered to all the grown ups! It was a day that I declared drinking on a Sunday morning to be good and all things wonderful! It was also a day I silently wondered, "Why can't I start every morning like this?"

Everyone ate well and some of us, okay, two of us...okay, maybe just me...was pleasantly tipsy by the end of brunch. Of course, the agenda of the day was not for me to get drunk (although, I, at that point, could have been happy ending the day right then and there) but we were out for the kids. I had read some great reviews of the new playground that just opened up across from the Seaport and wanted to check it out.

It was the second weekend of opening and by far, it's been probably the best playground I've ever been to. I'm not sure how long the cleanliness of it will last, a feature which always drops a playground far, far, down on my list no matter how awesome it is. But the nicest thing about it, was the layered deck with large umbrellas that surrounded a small water play area. For us grown-ups and a drunk me, we were quite happy to plop ourselves down on the deck, lean back and feel safe semi-supervising the kids in this gated area. The only feature missing that would've made this the "awesomest" playground evah! was a waiter taking martini orders. But, sadly, you can't have it all....

As amazing as this playground seemed, it didn't lack the one thing all playgrounds have in common: one very annoying/out of control child. And that day, that role was played by a little 5-6 year old, in her bathing suit, screeching every chance she got and grabbing every one of the huge foam blocks and any other available play material in sight. However, the real red flag was her haircut. The moment we entered the area, she was the first child anyone would notice as a parent does a "sweep over" or assesses the area. The kid had a very unique bob haircut. At first, I thought, "ohhh, that's interesting, I guess sort of cute." However, once my eyes did another sweep over to check out the grown-ups in the area, I was immediately able to identify the girl's mom because she was sportin' the exact same haircut, to which my next immediate thought was, "Oh. Ohhh. Oh, not good..." Sorry, but I am one of those people who find matching mother/daughter haircuts to be SO NOT ADORABLE and COMPLETELY REPULSIVE. Someone going as far as to get matching haircuts with their 5 year old is looking for people to comment on how cute they look. If you're not that great looking and you're child is an annoying little shit, pardon my French, trying to garner everyone's attention should be the complete opposite of what you're looking for. But that's just my 2 cents...

And so like any social dynamic, all the little ones avoided the screeching, possessive little girl with the strange bob haircut as much as possible. And if she grabbed one of their toys like a ravenous snake the moment they temporarily dropped it to pick their nose, pull up their pants or just stop to look at the shiny thing on their toe, they all knew not to make a big deal of it, avoid eye contact and walk away, feeling a sense of loss and dejection until a next worthy toy made itself available. Every child knew the unspoken rule here....every child, of course, except my child.

Chalk, being a hot commodity in the playground, was being held on tightly by Julia and her two little gal pals. They all avoided the little girl, opted to stay away from the water where she was playing and decided to draw on the walls. At some point, Julia, being the highly distractable 2 year old, went over to the edge of the water area and threw her chalk down to look at some shiny/funny/interesting thing across the way. Within a second of that chalk being dropped, annoying girl literally snatched it up and continued with her play as if nothing happened. Julia, then proceeds to flip.the.fuck.out. Her head turned as she panned the area for us grown-ups, stopped abruptly in our direction, stared at us wildly and began screaming at the top of her lungs, "SHE TOOOOOOOK MY CHAAAAAAAAAALK!" We all, kind of snickered, said something to the effect of "Well, you shouldn't have thrown your chalk down" and continued to sit there commenting on how wonderful it would be if someone would serve us drinks right now. Now before you think we're mean parents, Carl and I have always felt that Julia needed to stand up for herself more as she is constantly being bullied by someone, even by my nephew who is two sizes smaller than her! And we also felt that she needed to take care and pay attention to the things that she wants in life, even if that includes minuscule things like a piece of chalk.

But instead of walking away defeated, like the rest of the children, our Julia did something very surprising: she called for back up. Realizing that us parents were trying to teach her yet another life lesson, she huffed a sigh of displeasure and dissatisfaction with her grown-ups and tromped off towards her gal pals. As soon as she reached hearing distance to them, she screamed again, "SHE TOOOOOK MYYYYYYYYYY CHAAAAAAAAAALK!!". When her friends turned around, Julia vehemently thrusted her arm out and pointed to annoying girl. There she is! THAT ONE! The annoying one waving the chalk around without a clue. Julia could not have identified this girl more clearly with her silent point and stare. And, this of course, made all four of us stop our chatter and watch in awe at this new turn of events. Annoying girl's mom seemed to sit up a little straighter and looked somewhat confused and unsure of what to do.

My best friend's kids walked up to Julia and they all seemed to confer with each other a bit as each child took a moment to pick their head up and take several glances towards annoying girl. "Oh my God" I said to everyone "What the hell is going on?" Soon, my best friend's daughters began slowly walking towards the annoying girl, on opposite sides, as my Julia stood there, no longer distressed but watching them very carefully as if she paid good money for a service to be provided.

"Oh my god! Julia called for backup!" I excitedly said. "They're going to gang up on annoying girl!"

We all watched fascinated, particularly since three of us are educators,since this was definitely interesting child-social development at play here...and plus, holy crap! my friend's kids were gonna beat her up!

Carl, getting in touch with his guido roots, began providing dialogue.

"Yo, dichoo jass take dis guurl's chawk?! Answer dah qweschoon, dichoo take dis guurl's chawk?"

The two girls continued to approach her and circle her, eyes completely glued onto annoying girl.

"Oh my god, they're circling her!"

"Why donchoo jass puh-down dat chawk!? Do what I say, and jass puh-down dat chawk and no ones gonna get hurt."

"Carl, would you cut it out?"

It's hard to say how much we all would've liked to have let it played out but annoying girl's mom began frantically looking back and forth between us, my best friend's daughters who were now in prance mode and her daughter, who now looked like a cherub, innocently building with her blocks whilst gripping tightly onto the green chalk in question. As the girls simultaneously took a step towards the girl, all four of us shouted a sharp "GIRLS!" and blinking, they stepped out of their lioness stances and looked toward us like sweet children. Julia, finally tore her eyes away and looked too.

"I have another piece of chalk!", I said, shrilly.

"Oh!" Julia said, gleefully.

And peace was restored.

Well somewhat, not long after watching her daughter unwittingly become the potential target for a beatdown by my best friend's kids as my daughter smugly looked on, she declared that play time was over and had to forcefully pick up her screaming child out of the playground; a common occurrence in every playground of which I am much too familiar with. We all looked at each other somewhat embarrassed for her and for ourselves for not stopping the kids sooner but ultimately conceded that that was really cool in a not so appropriate way.

"Did you see that?!"

"They were totally set on getting that chalk back!"

"Julia was like - yeah, these are my bitches!"

"Holy crap! They were, like, about to pounce!"

"This was totally Sopranos!"

"Did you notice mom has the same haircut as the kid?"

"yeah, Ewww..."

On my 3rd time celebrating Mother's Day....

On my first Mother's Day, it went over somewhat uneventful. I didn't have high expectations, in fact, Julia was 5 months old and I really don't remember it at all. That tends to happen when you're nursing for what seems like a 100x a day and working! My second Mother's Day wasn't much different from the first but I recall going to a lovely seafood restaurant in City Island in the Bronx with my parents. Actually, I remember wearing a dress that was bought when I was pregnant, with the intention of wearing it during the time but never having any event to wear it too - it was a little roomier for the belly but it actually wasn't maternity wear. The neighbor girl saw me in what I thought was a pretty nice dress on me, gasped, and said "Mari, are you pregnant?" Perhaps that is why Mother's Day 2 is wiped from my mind. Hmmm, let me try and erase that again...ok, yup, Mother's Day 2, totally forgettable....

Mother's Day 3 turned on the bitch switch for me. I don't know if it was because my last two were so uneventful or if I'm just slightly more overwhelmed this year than I was last year, but I suddenly felt like I understood why all mother's like to remind you about the day you were born. Even though Mother's Day, as Carl likes to put it, is a "Hallmark Holiday", a day so commercialized by every business that wants your money in exchange for some crappy chocolate, wilting flowers or dust collecting Vermont Teddy Bears - I, decided, to heck with that, I deserve to have one day dedicated to me (other than my birthday), to celebrate my motherhood! I deserve to be queen for the day! After all, I spent 4 days in the hospital, I've got a scar on my belly, a year's worth of butt pain from injuring my tailbone (tee hee - I can say, literally, Julia was a pain in my butt!), a body that I cringe at the sight of, dark circles under my eyes, lots of lost sleep, lots of lost time arguing about why it's important to not pick your nose and 2.5 years of being at the absolute beck and call of "The Beast". Where the hell is my crown, staff and throne?!? Didn't I deserve to have one day, where I was revered, respected and grateful for my undying love and dedication to my family? Should not that day be spent doing all things I've done for the family with the exception of changing my poopy diapers and wiping my butt??? Although....ah never mind....

Ok, so maybe asking my 2 and a half year old to cook my meals, clean the house, bathe me, feed me, dress me and keep me entertained in any way possible before she burps me and puts me down for a nap is too much to ask (well at least now anyway - I'm sure she'll have to look forward to these things in another 40 years or so). But no matter how many times you tell yourself, it's just not that easy to give a little more attention, respect and love to the ones who love you most on a day to day basis when there's a million and one other things that are going on in a day. So I do appreciate when there are days that are meant to put a little focus on our loved ones and draw us away from the daily stresses of life.

And although I did get breakfast in bed and dinner at Veselka's (my fav cheap eats!), I did spend the day spring cleaning the house, feeding, bathing, dressing and entertaining Julia while only thinking, not repeating, the pains of childbirth, the horrible aftermath of pregnancy and my indefinite servitude to my beautiful, loveable, squishable and sweet, beastly child.

But hey, isn't that what I signed up for when I decided to become a mother?

On the baby purchases I really did need and the things I really didn't...

As a mommy to be, I poured through every article on the internet, read every baby book and spoke to every recent mother only to find out I still had no idea what I really needed to have a baby. I mean, REALLY NEEDED and USED REGULARLY. Had I known now what I known then, I really would've saved a lot of money and would've had people buy some more important things at my baby shower. Here are some of the top things I really needed and the top things I really did not need...

THINGS I DIDN'T NEED
1. Diaper Genie - For one thing, I hate the fact that you have to buy bags for it, for another, I hate how much labor has to go into it. When I had a disgusting, vomit inducing, get-it-out-of-my-hands-now, type of diaper, I wanted it disposed immediately! And then when it's time to empty it out...good lord! You get a sausage ring of poopy diapers from the past 3-4 days. EW! Dispose of yuck diaper in plastic bag, tie, throw in garbage pail. Throw out garbage frequently. Repeat. When you start potty training and you use pull ups, you won't be using the diaper genie. Final word on this: Don't buy a diaper genie, mine is currently sitting pretty with the extra bags on top of it, not knowing what to do with itself.

2. Wipes Warmer - What the hell was I thinking? More work than necessary and frankly, Julia didn't give a damn whether the wipe was cold or not.

3. Bottle Warmer - I froze all my milk in individual packets and when it was time to defrost a packet, we'd take one out and put it in hot water, thus warming the milk. And if we had milk in the fridge that was leftover from earlier in the day, we'd put the bottle in hot water. Why did I need the bottle warmer?

4. Bottle Sanitizer - I used it 3-4 times. It was a hassle. Washing bottles in hot water and boiling binkys and rubber nipples in a pot worked out a lot better for me and kept Julia healthy.

5. Diaper Changing Contoured Pad - We always threw our travel changing pad on the floor, bed, couch, somewhere and changed Julia.

6. Diaper Bag - I did use it but not too frequently and I hated it. It was bulky and really hurt my shoulder. I ended up using my stroller's diaper bag which, although just as bulky, slid right into the stroller when I didn't need it. In addition, when I wasn't using the stroller or needed to go out for a quick run, I was always looking to shove the least amount of things needed into one of my purses. Small and comfortable is good.

THINGS I NEEDED
1. Baby Gates - Have been and continue to be incredibly useful! I particularly love the ones you step on to open and really hate the ones that require you to use your hands. We regularly eat dinner in our living room, so bringing plates and drinks are easier when you can just step onto the pedal and your gate swings open!

2. Binkys - Although I weaned Julia off of Binkys after 5-6 months, I was a big fan of it. It really helped quiet her down especially when we were out in public.

3. Swing set, Jumper, bouncy chair - All loved and used by Julia regularly. It helped for sleepless nights and when I needed "a moment".

4. Ice cube trays for making my own pureed food in advance. I also used ones that were designed specifically for this too which made sending it over to my parents easy because it had a lid on it. But I would make her solid food in advance, puree them and pour them into my ice cube tray which also had a cover for it. After it froze, I would take them out and put them into a ziploc bag in the freezer. Whenever it was time to eat, I would grab one and heat it up. Simple!

5 - Orbitz Stroller and Car Seat - Oh how I love my Orbitz stroller, not a moment goes by when we are out that people ask us about it. It made our first year very easy to transfer her in and out of the car. The car seat easily rotated and snapped right in to the car via a base already in place and to the stroller which allowed us to rotate her any way we wanted. We didn't really need any other stroller until she was a bit older. The toddler car seat and stroller worked out well too even though the toddler car seat doesn't rotate or snap into a base any more, it's installed the same way any other car seat is. But on our trip to Disney, we just snapped her into her stroller from the car and that was that!

6 - Stroller cover/highchair cover - I loved this thing! This not only helped with a lot of gross out moments when Julia would attempt to mouth the shopping cart or high chair but it also worked when there wasn't a high chair available. I was still able to strap her to a chair at Dim Sum and not worry about her falling off.

I'm sure this list would be different for every mom out there, but for me, at least for baby number 2, I'll have a better idea of what I need to do....

On my love for work and my love for Julia and how the two just don't get along...

Pre-Julia, I have always been about work. If I've told you several defining characteristics about me were my love for all things muppets, my karaoke style singing that's too pitchy and my need to be in the moment at all times - I lied to you. If I have to be honest to myself, work is what really defined me. Work always consumed me and I secretly had no problem with it-even after I got married. I think Carl always knew work came first for me. I love what I do and even more, I love the children and people I work with (no matter how much I may complain about them - the people, not the children!).

But since I had Julia, she has become major competition for this prior love affair I have for work and sometimes, if not most times, she wins...and I am just not used to that. Although I have grown to love my "family first" motto, it's hard to always adjust to it when having to work is something I must continue to do, financially and mentally. So most of the week, it's all about work but I anxiously look forward to weekends, holidays and vacations to spend time with Julia.

Unfortunately, this past Spring Break left me very sick which resulted in me being unable to spend time with Julia for 5 of the 7 days I had off. Boy, did I feel so gypped! And throughout the whole ordeal, I couldn't help but think about all the time I lost with her and will continue to lose with her. The night before returning back to work, I so desperately wanted to hand my resignation letter and say "Nope, it's Julia time for the next couple of years and tack on a few more for the next kid too - whenever that is!" I figured Carl would just have to accept the fact that I wouldn't be working any more once he realized checks were not coming in for me after 2 weeks or so. And finally, for once, all would be well and good and Julia would have a mommy again.

But of course, reality set in - our financial needs, my love and need for work, the fact that Carl would kick my ass....well that all reared it's ugly head in the morning and I went to work. I subsequently, forgotten all about my woes by the time my cup of coffee was emptied (except of course when I am up at 3 in the morning and blogging about it).....

So all in all, in the end, work still wins. I just hope Julia never sees it that way. :(

On little white lies I've told Julia so far...

All Slushies from 7-11 are coffee.

The T.V. is broken.

The computer is broken.

We're not allowed to wake up until we see the sun.

The monsters live outside, take you away and only give you water to drink - no ni-ni (milk)....

Carl caught me saying this to her and gave me the look of death...O.K., so the last one was a bit much but she tried to outdo me and I couldn't help but take it a step further- something I do regret and not because she has an unhealthy fear of monsters now...

It all started with her telling me she was "broken" and me, jokingly, responding with "Uh-Oh, we're gonna have to trade you in, get a new little girl!"

"A new little girl?"

"Yes, a new one, maybe Nicky will want to live here."

"And I go to Aunt Laura's and live?"

"No, you're broken, we'll have to send you to the curb for the garbage pick up."

"Garbage?"

"Yeah, we'll have to put you in a box and Daddy will take you to the curb."

"I have to live in a box?"

"Yup, you wanna live in a box outside?"

"Yea!!" she says, eyes gleaming with excitement.

"Err.." think fast, Mariann, think fast..."But then the monsters will come and get you."

"The monsters?!"

"Yeah, the monsters! And you'll have to live in their house and they won't give you anything yummy to eat!"

"No ni-ni? Only water?"

"Yup, only water!"

"Mommy, I want to live with the monsters..."

WHAT?!

Once in a while, Julia will continue to remind me that she's broken and needs to live with the monsters and she'll keep up the story about how they'll make her live in a box and how they're scary and somehow, at the end of it, she sings the last piece of it in a Broadway musical version with "And they don't give any Ni-Niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!" with outstretched arms and all but without the spirit fingers (which would've been the pièce de résistance-but who am I to critique?).

I'm not sure whose lying to who now but I'm pretty sure that Julia has got me beat.

On Time Outs and other forms of punishment on that evil beast of mine....

Once, a long, long, long, time ago, I had this sweet baby. She was a compliant, generally happy, easygoing child. I mean, she just hung out there and babbled. I cooed, she babbled, all was good.

Then one day, she turned on me. She turned into a toddler. And suddenly she was looking at me defiantly and telling me "No", flinging objects on the floor out of anger, flailing herself on the floor melodramatically at the lost of "her" t.v. and instructing ME to sit down/don't talk/get up and play. Now don't get me wrong, for the most part, Julia is actually quite the gentle, sweet beast - I couldn't have asked for a better child, but, oh, when she's pissed - watch out! And really, when it comes right down to it, the last thing I want to deal with after a long day of dealing with children acting up all day is dealing with MY child acting up. So one of the first things I resorted to was Time Outs and this started as early as potty training. For every screaming and throwing infraction, she was sent to the corner for a set period of time (they say a minute for every year). And at the end of it, as long as she was calm, she was asked to return, identify what she did wrong, identify her "emotion" and why she engaged in the behavior, apologize and seal the whole deal with a hug and a kiss.

Supernanny, my ass! This whole episode has turned into covering her face and fake crying, while intermittently looking at me to "release" her from her Time Out and automatically coming up to me and saying "I'm sorry, Mommy, I didn't mean to throw the phone. I'm sorry, give me a hug." In other words, rather than reducing this evil behavior (and saving my phone from any further damage!), she has instead learned to chain these things together - throw Mommy's phone, go Time Out, return and apologize insincerely, and get a hug at the end. Done!

Truthfully, I knew this was not a good fix, if a fix at all for that matter. Why this didn't work for her was a multitude of reasons - her behavior being more attention seeking than just not getting her way, the time out not being aversive enough, not teaching her what she could do when she's pissed in the moment....etc. But the last thing I'm doing at 6 or 7 in the evening after a long day of work, is thinking. I am on autopilot at this time and all I'm doing is what needs to be done to end the day and get to bed. The Time Out is for ME, with the tiny hope that it was aversive enough to stop her from flipping out, but to really give me a couple of minutes away from her and her misbehavior instead of feeling like I have to reach out and slap her!! It's a nice little disruption to my "breaking point" when I'm overtired, overwhelmed and really, feel like I might lose it and do something I'm going to regret later. So Time Outs are still, ultimately, a "treatment" of choice for me right now and what I have often recommended to others as well (of course there's a lot more thought and recommendations when I tell this to others though - I just don't listen to my own advice).

But because the Time Out is not aversive enough for Julia, I found myself upping the ante one day after an exhausting Time Out, which resulted in me threatening to trash all her Snow White paraphernalia. "If you throw things again, Julia, I am going to throw out your Snow White doll. If you do it again, then it's your DVD, then your book and your Heigh-Hos (what she calls the 7 Dwarfs)". But the moment I said it, I knew I was wrong and I even knew that I was definitely not going to follow through on this one. But when she looked at me, quizzically, and said "But I want my Snow White doll and DVD and book and Heigh-Hos...", I had a slight glimmer of hope that that was going to be the final end to that. I don't really think it will be until I teach her how to appropriately express her anger, stop providing her so much damn attention to her when she flips out, tolerate when I say she can't have something and keep consistent with teaching her how to follow her activity schedule for the day so her world is not so unpredictable. But until then, I just have to continue to learn like the rest of the mommies in the world.

On taking the Beast to Disney World and what I would do differently...

There were many hesitations prior to bringing Julia aka "the Beast" to Disney World. One of the many, was her age. Most people, including Carl, felt that taking her to Disney, in particular, Magic Kingdom, should have been reserved for the ripe old age of 5 or 7 but definitely not as early as 2. I, on the other hand, disagreed (naturally) and felt that bringing her to Magic Kingdom at 2 gave us the most genuine and sincere reaction we'll ever get. And I was right after seeing her little eyes bug out after seeing her favorite characters come to life and she loved "jumping into the story books", as she liked to call it when we got on the Winnie the Pooh and Snow White rides. However, bringing a 2 year old came with some issues and so here is my advice if you decide to bring your own little beast...

1 - Never go to Disney during peak times. Waiting 30 -40 minutes on line can be hectic, waste of precious vakay time and extremely difficult on a 2 year old. If you do and even if you don't, I recommend bringing your smartphone. We uploaded several Disney movies and her favorite tv shows (Yo Gabba Gabba) onto Carl's phone. This helped for long lines, long car rides and those desperate "I need a moment" situation.
2 - Don't go park hopping. Most toddler stuff will be at Magic Kingdom - there really isn't much in the other parks unless you decide to go to Blizzard Beach (which we originally wanted to do but unfortunately it was closed for the season) and besides, you can spend all day in one area of the park, especially between meal times and nap times.
3 - If your phone is internet ready, go to Disney's mobile website to find out wait times for all the rides in the park and where specific characters are at. Fastpass never did us any good (unless we wanted to go on the rides at 9 in the evening).
4 - If you really want to make it worth your while and your wallet, go for 2 weeks and pay for a week at Disney (you get more bang for your buck for 7 days worth of Disney tickets). Stay at a place with a full kitchen and alternate days to the park and hanging at the hotel so you can rest your weary feet.
5 - Bring food in - they don't care. The food sucks there, unless you truly enjoy watching your child scarf down greasy chicken strips followed by greasier fries meal after meal.
6 - Don't worry about missing parades - despite having scheduled parades at specific times, they seem to have about 3-4 extra parades in addition to, so we were ALWAYS running into a parade. In fact, parades are the best time to get on those damn rides.
7 - If you want to do a character themed meal while not expecting to eat well but to enjoy seeing your little beast go "WOW, it's Cinderella right in front of my face, alive and talking to me!", then know in advance that you want to go and call in months ahead for "advanced reservations". Otherwise, run your butt over there as soon as the park opens and see if there's any openings.
8 - Your child will get sick. I repeat, WILL GET SICK. Every third child was coughing the same exact cough, Julia was coughing. Julia was feverish every night for the first four days - thus tip number 4, it would've been better if my vacation was extended and we could have taken the time to see the parks rather than squeezing everything in three days and not even full days because Julia was sick and not sleeping well the night before.

Just a warning, Disney seems to have gone down hill in the past several years. I remember going several years ago and being awed and impressed with their cleanliness and ability to keep the maintenance people discreet and hidden. Although I had never gone during peak season prior to now, it was smooth and clearly orchestrated to give you the best experience possible. Not so this time around - the bathrooms were filthy with employees dragging their garbage cans in plain view and the music piping through the sound systems were obnoxiously loud and in your face. It was very Americana. The magic of Disney has gone but at least Julia didn't notice...

On "Uhm....are we supposed to do that?"...

I, being the Mariann that I am, did not and could not plan for a big birthday celebration for Julia (forcing my poor best bud to have a small impromptu party for her-Thanks, Laura!). Because of my unpreparedness, I figured I could at least give her a small party at her daycare. The night before, of course, I ordered several cupcakes and then ran to Target to buy some party favors.

After dinner, I pulled out the little party favor bags and declared Carl in charge of stuffing small packs of playdoh into them. Before I could get on in my save-it-for-the-last-minute-maniacal-Mariann-way, Carl asked "the" question that still continues to rear its ugly head presently;

"Uhm, are we supposed to do that?"

I slowly raised my eyes, glared at him menacingly, and asked,

"What....do...you...mean...by....are we SUPPOSED to do that?!"

"Well, I mean, is this really necessary? I mean who does this?"

Thus began my tirade on how parents do this all the time and on and on about how "What? I'm just gonna give 'em cupcakes and that's it? What the hell kind of party is that?" and "You think I'm doing this cuz I like being up past my bedtime stuffing party favors?!"

I think I concluded my tirade feeling vindicated that "I" was the parenting expert and "I" know what all typical parents do and this was one of those things. Secretly, I also gave myself extra "Faking Supermommy" points for choosing the best, most age appropriate and fun toddler party favors while also adding another bonus point for including a "favor" for Julia's teacher/entire class; Julia's favorite Dr. Seuss book. Hey-O!!!!! High-five to the most awesomest mom evah!!!

I dropped Julia off the next day, feeling deftly proud at my mama skillz and assured that all parents do this but I just fake it and do it better - never mind the fact that she was in daycare for three months and had never come home with a single party favor or anything remotely looking like a party favor...

Three weeks later, while going through Julia's bag from daycare, I pulled out a party favor bag filled with candy, a Strawberry Shortcake toothbrush and rinse cup, a Princess lip gloss wristband and a freakin' Tinkerbell jigsaw puzzle that you also color!!! WTF?! I quickly estimated the price value and "fun" value in my head and determined, I was beaten....

A few days before Christmas, Carl walked in and caught me ordering a nice Edible Arrangement Bouquet for the daycare. He raised his eyebrow and asked me the same 'ole question, "Are we supposed to do that? Do other parents really do that?" Before bothering to listen to another lengthy dialogue about good parents and what they do for their kids and the people who take care of them, he walked away. And as I clicked "send" on the gift message declaring them "the most wonderful and caring staff", I quietly answered, "Well, if they don't, they will now!"

On our first playground brawl.....

Today, when Julia and I got to our local park, there were two other little Chinese kids with their grandma. Julia, of course, was excited to see other kids her age and wanted to play with them. Being Julia and much like any other 2 year old I know, she lingered close by to them (but not too close), imitated their actions and waited for any sort of interaction. Unfortunately, these two children kept to themselves and eventually Julia gave up and began playing by herself. She wandered into one of the tunnels and was about to make her way out towards me when the older of the two children came over and intentionally blocked Julia's exit. Julia just sat there looking up at her. I wasn't exactly sure what was going on at first and I don't think Julia did either. So Julia just sat and kept looking up at her, not in fear mind you, but somewhat curiously and annoyed. Grandma desperately tried to get this child to move, I mean, she pulled her off 3 or 4 times and this girl whipped back to the exit with arms clutching the top of the tunnel and literally, glared, at Julia. I, of course, did my mommy thing, "Julia, say excuse me" and looked at the little 3 year old that I was about to slap. Julia politely said " S'cuse me" quietly and continued to look back calmly. I looked at the little girl and said "She said excuse me, you need to move now." and as Grandma peeled her off for the 5th time, I quickly grabbed Julia and pulled her out. Julia walked calmly and quietly out of the tunnel and towards the playground gate. She held the gate for a little bit and looked out towards the rest of the park. Without looking back, she looked up at me and said "Mommy, I want to go to the swings now" and off we went.

Julia can be such a beast sometimes, but I have to say, for the most part, she's a pretty calm and sweet child and I hope that's because she models after relatively calm and loving parents. I don't understand how it is that there are children, particularly children that young, that can already be so mean and awful.

She didn't mention what happened until afterward when Daddy picked us up in the car and I mentioned the incident to him. When asked about the girl, she said "yea, daddy, the girl was naughty and bad!" followed by "Daddy, I wanna go back to the playground!" This is typical Julia, and boy, do I love every bit of her!

On Julia's year in review....

Oh what a year! In 2009, I returned back to work full time, started potty training Julia, went to several amusement parks in the summer and shipped her off to daycare for two days a week.
It is amazing to see how much Julia has transformed from baby to toddler in one year.

In Janauary 2009, most of her verbal dialogue was "Bucka bucka bucka buckaaaa" and "Bye Bye" and "Uh-oh". Now it's "No, Mommy, sit there, I do myself!" or "Listen! Shhhh...listen...I farted!"

She went from not really understanding birthdays or holidays to asking about Santa and his gifts or ripping into her gifts ferociously and oohing and ahhing.

She went from being a relatively compliant little baby to a terror when she's mad. "No! I'm angry! I'm going to the corner!"

She has developed a love for all things princessy and hot pink (despite all my hard work to keep gender neutral in my household) and now asks to put on my makeup.

She tells me now "Mommy, I'm not a baby. I'm a little girl eating my yogurt (or whatever action she's doing currently)".

I loved her as a baby but I love her even more as a toddler. She has grown so much and has learned so much! She has become my little mini me, my sidekick and really, the love of my life.

I hope 2010 is just as a joyful of a year as 2009 was. Happy New Year!

On my half-breed child....

I'm just using the terminology that Cher used. Don't worry, I don't tell Julia she's a half-breed and if I do, it's usually when she's been bad and after I tell her rainbows are just particles of light, Snow White never existed and her birthday is just any other day.

Prior to having Julia, the idea of having an interracial child never crossed my mind as a negative thing. Ever. Growing up in a multicultural community, I never saw the color of someone's skin. My determination of whether we were friends were based on whether you were an "ass" or not.

It wasn't until Julia was born, did somewhere, in the back of my mind, I breathed a sigh of relief that she came out looking Chinese. It was a thought that surprised me a little because I never even thought I had an "issue" with it, in fact, I never even thought about the issues of having a mixed child. I think I even overheard my mom talking to a relative on the phone and saying "Good thing she looks Chinese!". But that was when Julia was first born, as she's growing, her looks are changing and there are moments when I look at her and I just barely see the Asian in her. My Chinese neighbors, for the first year, constantly commented on how "white" she looked. Seriously. Every time I'd walk out the door, one of the little kids would say "Oh my mom says she looks so white!". I'd go to Dim Sum and the cart ladies would say "Oh she's so white!" Relatives, would say, "Oh, she has beautiful white skin!" Even I, after looking at several pictures with Julia, am often taken aback and think "Who is this white kid on my lap?!"

And I would constantly vent "Why are they telling me she's so white?! She CLEARLY has ASIAN EYES!!! She looks freaking ASIAN!!" and I'd carry on as if looking "white" was a horrible thing...all this venting to my "white" husband and "white" best friend. It'd bother me even more because my parents even seem annoyed by the constant barrage of "white" comments.

And then one day, somebody commented on her "whiteness" and said "She must look like her father". At that point, it sort of all hit home to me. It wasn't that I was bothered by her looking different but by her not carrying on who I am and who my parents are. It's funny, I don't think my parents EVER made the color of our skin a barrier to what we could accomplish and I think that's why my sisters and I came out to be so independent and successful in our own way. But a few years ago, when I was pursuing my certification as a school administrator, my dad said I would never get a job as a director or principal because I was "yellow". Although, I didn't believe him, it still hit me hard that he said that and felt that we were still struggling as minorities. (And my god, he called us "yellow"!!!) So here's Julia, with an opportunity to be more successful because of her skin color and the shape of her eyes, but we're bothered by it. I guess it's the struggle, who we are, how we came to be, our culture and practices that we don't want lost in her. I don't care what Julia looks like, but I just don't want her to forget the Chinese in her...or the Chinese in me.