Monday, March 26, 2012
Friday, March 9, 2012
Rare Weekend Off
This is rare for us. A full weekend with both my husband and I off from work!
Our house is a mess. Our yard is a mess. I have an online class I need to finish before April 10. He has things to do for his class. We have loads of laundry. We have a bathroom that needs to be remodeled. I would like to change the vanity in our powder room. I would like to bake. I would like us to cook and consume all the frozen vegetables from last year's harvest. I have books I want to read. I would like to make up for lost sleep. To top it all, we have a toddler who needs constant attention!
Maybe working on the weekends is not a bad thing after all!
Our house is a mess. Our yard is a mess. I have an online class I need to finish before April 10. He has things to do for his class. We have loads of laundry. We have a bathroom that needs to be remodeled. I would like to change the vanity in our powder room. I would like to bake. I would like us to cook and consume all the frozen vegetables from last year's harvest. I have books I want to read. I would like to make up for lost sleep. To top it all, we have a toddler who needs constant attention!
Maybe working on the weekends is not a bad thing after all!
28th Month
Today he turned 28th month. I realized we haven't been updating his baby book for quite a while. I neglected to record his height and weight since he turned 9 month. I don't even remember when his first molar appeared. Oh well, at least, I kept his hair from his first haircut.
What can I say about Benji?
He spits. He curses. He hits. At least now, he stopped biting. Yes, he is the epitome of bad behavior. Many times he embarrasses me in public. He could throw a tantrum wherever. He had broken items in the store (good thing they don't have us pay for those except in oriental store where he broke a bottle of soy sauce). At times, he is just too quick and strong for us. He likes the attention of other people but gets shy once he gets it. His favorite pick-up or attention-getting line is Iowa Public Television Foundation (you could tell, we've been watching a lot of PBS lately.) He only eats hamburger (with or without spaghetti sauce), cheese pizza, granola bar, cookies, Kix, snap pea crisp, candies (of course) and a blended concoction of mango, pears and spinach. I threw all Dr. Sear's suggestions on nutrition because he is just too picky. He needs to be coaxed to drink milk, even.
Most kids (that I know) bring their blankets or soft toys in bed. Benji would bring his hot wheel cars, tooth brushes, mouth swab, ball of socks, etc. He can get so obsessive. He inhales Altoids tin can and dryer sheets like a person addicted to cocaine or glue. It is strange to see a toddler like that. But I have to pick my battles. It does not hurt him. Yet.
He could make our house looks like it's been ran sacked. It takes him just few minutes to trash the house that took us hours to clean up. To no avail, I teach him to bring his toys back to the bin and his books back to the shelves. We just give up cleaning. He would also trash the library if given an opportunity. He'd thrown books and CD's on the floor when he's bored.
Not all about him is bad. He has developed by leaps and bounds since he was born. He loves to sing and hum nursery rhymes, especially Baa Baa Black Sheep. A month ago, he added ABC to his song list, then 2 weeks ago The Farmer in the Dell. I'm pretty sure he knows more songs than what I mentioned here. He also loves listening to the Wiggles' Hot Potato and Fruit Salad. He knows his capital letters (he's still learning small letters) and numbers 1 to 9 (he insists small L as 1). He could count a little bit. He knows his primary colors. But he does not know how to say Bye's and Thank yous. He refuses to do it!
My husband's fear is that he will never get potty trained. My fear is that he will not learn how to read. Maybe, we should worry about his manners , huh?
What can I say about Benji?
He spits. He curses. He hits. At least now, he stopped biting. Yes, he is the epitome of bad behavior. Many times he embarrasses me in public. He could throw a tantrum wherever. He had broken items in the store (good thing they don't have us pay for those except in oriental store where he broke a bottle of soy sauce). At times, he is just too quick and strong for us. He likes the attention of other people but gets shy once he gets it. His favorite pick-up or attention-getting line is Iowa Public Television Foundation (you could tell, we've been watching a lot of PBS lately.) He only eats hamburger (with or without spaghetti sauce), cheese pizza, granola bar, cookies, Kix, snap pea crisp, candies (of course) and a blended concoction of mango, pears and spinach. I threw all Dr. Sear's suggestions on nutrition because he is just too picky. He needs to be coaxed to drink milk, even.
Most kids (that I know) bring their blankets or soft toys in bed. Benji would bring his hot wheel cars, tooth brushes, mouth swab, ball of socks, etc. He can get so obsessive. He inhales Altoids tin can and dryer sheets like a person addicted to cocaine or glue. It is strange to see a toddler like that. But I have to pick my battles. It does not hurt him. Yet.
He could make our house looks like it's been ran sacked. It takes him just few minutes to trash the house that took us hours to clean up. To no avail, I teach him to bring his toys back to the bin and his books back to the shelves. We just give up cleaning. He would also trash the library if given an opportunity. He'd thrown books and CD's on the floor when he's bored.
Not all about him is bad. He has developed by leaps and bounds since he was born. He loves to sing and hum nursery rhymes, especially Baa Baa Black Sheep. A month ago, he added ABC to his song list, then 2 weeks ago The Farmer in the Dell. I'm pretty sure he knows more songs than what I mentioned here. He also loves listening to the Wiggles' Hot Potato and Fruit Salad. He knows his capital letters (he's still learning small letters) and numbers 1 to 9 (he insists small L as 1). He could count a little bit. He knows his primary colors. But he does not know how to say Bye's and Thank yous. He refuses to do it!
My husband's fear is that he will never get potty trained. My fear is that he will not learn how to read. Maybe, we should worry about his manners , huh?
Friday, February 17, 2012
More on Story Corps
T.V. and radio are my companions during my long nights of finishing work.... I mostly tune in to PBS or NPR. I am not a music person. I am more of a talk radio kind-of-gal. So, one time I heard this story about an old man telling a story about killing a German soldier during World War 2, and how it haunted him for the rest of his life. Then, I saw the animated short in TV. I dont know why it became my favorite...
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Mild Winter Day
It is a record warm winter. It got to almost 60 degrees here. To the library we went...
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Missing him...
It's been almost 2 mos. since my father passed away. I still miss him. I still feel guilty because I could not care for him as much. I was too busy with my life. I thought I still had time. I never thought his passing would be swift. I thought we had more time than that. I just applied for my FMLA leave the day before he passed. I was hoping that he would somehow make it to Christmas 2011. I think he believed he would make it to Christmas too. I am haunted by the look in his eyes the last time he was conscious. His pupils were dilated from anxiety. He was fish out of water. The hospice nurse (and I) believed he had a pulmonary embolism, which caused labored breathing and rapid decline.
I feel tears swelling up my lower lids every time I pass their apartment and places that remind me of him. My heart stops whenever my baby mentions the word "tatay," which he does every time we visit the apartment my father shared with my mother, who still lives there.
My grief is still fresh and raw.
Our complex parent-child relationship is dysfunctional at best and hostile at its worst. However, since Tatay passed, I remember the good times, the good Tatay (Filipino for father). I think of his sacrifices and hard work so we could have a good education and life. The thing that I will never forget is how his hands looked. I remember his fingers getting crooked as he aged from arthritis and decades of menial jobs. He told me to cut my homemade soap smaller as he had difficulty holding it. When he died, that was the only part of his body that did not really change. He lost a lot of weight. His muscles atrophied. His skin was discolored and pale. He lost his hair. But his hands remained the same, immortalizing in my memory his life of hard work and sacrifices for his family.
It is difficult to lose a parent, no matter how imperfect the relationship is. I prefer him alive, and I know my life was better when he was just 11 miles away. I love you, Tatay... Thanks for everything.
P.S. Despite the breathing difficulty at the end, my father passed away peacefully in Hospice. He was given meds to slow down his breathing and relieve his pain and anxiety.
I feel tears swelling up my lower lids every time I pass their apartment and places that remind me of him. My heart stops whenever my baby mentions the word "tatay," which he does every time we visit the apartment my father shared with my mother, who still lives there.
My grief is still fresh and raw.
Our complex parent-child relationship is dysfunctional at best and hostile at its worst. However, since Tatay passed, I remember the good times, the good Tatay (Filipino for father). I think of his sacrifices and hard work so we could have a good education and life. The thing that I will never forget is how his hands looked. I remember his fingers getting crooked as he aged from arthritis and decades of menial jobs. He told me to cut my homemade soap smaller as he had difficulty holding it. When he died, that was the only part of his body that did not really change. He lost a lot of weight. His muscles atrophied. His skin was discolored and pale. He lost his hair. But his hands remained the same, immortalizing in my memory his life of hard work and sacrifices for his family.
It is difficult to lose a parent, no matter how imperfect the relationship is. I prefer him alive, and I know my life was better when he was just 11 miles away. I love you, Tatay... Thanks for everything.
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