Allergies

I have one those kids.  I'm one of those moms.

Yes. I use to silently mock (in my own head) the kids who have dangerous allergies and the moms who sent lists of forbidden foods to the hosts of playdates.  I felt sorry for them.  I thought that their kids are just not as sturdy as they should.

Karma sucks!

After dealing with my now 4 year old's eczema since she was 3 months old by lathering her with daily regiment of lotions and potions, we found out it's due to food sensitivities and allergies.  About 6 months ago,  I read Robyn O'Brien's book "The Unhealthy Truth: How Our Food is Making Us Sick - And What We Can Do About It", a light bulb blinked on in my head.  Food.  Can my little healthy sturdy girl be really allergic to the food I feed her?  Eventually, slowly, I remove the one thing in her diet that I thought was the healthiest, dairy milk.  Miracle!!  She stopped scratching.  Her blistered, sore, red skin turned into healthy smooth kid's skin.  No more crying, no more yelling, no more potions.  It was like magic.

Now that I know food is a big factor in her overall well-being.  They next thing I noticed was the very rare times she ate a tiny bit of peanuts, she started coughing and complained that her tongue feels weird.  We are not a family of peanut butter sandwiches.  It just wasn't in our list of food in the pantry.  But every so often, peanut M&Ms or trail-mix with peanuts would make it across our house's threshold.  Another light bulb blinked on in my head.  Peanuts?  Could it be?  What else?

The pediatrician took her blood for an allergy test at her 4-year check up.  Positive.  All came back positive for peanuts, cashews, coconuts, nuts, nuts, and more nuts.  We were also given an Epi-pen for 'just in case'.  So, she is one of those kids.  I'm one of those parents.  I will be sending the list of no-no foods to the hosts of playdates.  And I apologize to all the parents that I silently mocked for so many years.  I'm sorry.

Dilemma of a Un-Princess Mom

My soon to be 4 year old girl was recently invited to a princess-themed birthday party by one of our good friend. I've been protecting her from the insidious brainwashing of the Princess marketing machine. She knows the names of other non-overly girly and pink Disney characters such as Lightning McQueen and Buzz Lightyear. Now, I have decide if I should succumb to the pink frilly world or make her the oddball among her peers.

I thought about dressing her up of some kind of non-pink princess, like Princess Leah from Star Wars or Princess Daenerys Targaryen from Game of Thrones. But, I know the princess-themed party means pink and frilly. No matter how awesome she will look as Daenerys Queen of Dragons, she will not fit in. As a mom who loves her and will want her to stand out like a sore thumb, I will have to let go. Let her be a princess for a day.

After nearly 4 years of giving her gender-neutral playthings, doing my best to instill in her that she can do anything, and teaching her that if she practice, she can do anything. I think it's time to trust that she's ready to running into the arms of pink frilly silk-taffeta clad 4 year old girls and not forget that her strength comes from her inner abilities and not how pretty her clothes are.

Potty Mouth in Wal-Mart

I blame it all on the Mister.  Four letter words rolls off his tongue much freely when the little girl is around him.  I know he doesn't mean it, but it happened enough times for her to pick up "oh sh*t!".  She even uses it in the right context, such as when things aren't going her way or when she bangs her knee on something.  I subscribe to the concept that if she says it, I won't comment on it and she will eventually forget and will find another way to express her feelings.

But, I still can't get over the hilarious but embarrassing "oh sh*t!" moment in our local Wal-Mart.  The Mister and I took the little girl for an errand run that included trips to Home Depot, A&P, and Wal-Mart.  By the time we got to Wal-Mart, she was pretty mellow but definitely getting tired.  The adults were also getting a bit tired too.  So, we walked in, found the nearest shopping cart, and put her in the child seat, a bit too roughly I guess.  She lets out a louder than normal "Oh Sh*t!".  She's not done.  Before we registered what was happening, she let out at least 3 more " Oh Sh*t!"s.  Each louder than the last.  Oh the looks we got!  I had no clue what to do except to push the cart as fast as I can without calling more attention to ourselves.

Now, our goal is slowly get those words out of her vocabulary.  Her new form of exclamation is "Oh Man!"  I'm hoping that will stick and replace the less acceptable word.

 
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Time Out - Lost in Translation

Supernanny is not going to approve.  The little girl has officially entered her terrible 2'.   Screaming, kicking, yada yada, the usual.  We (I) watched enough of the Supernanny to know, time out is a great way to nib the problem in the bud.  After putting her at the time out corner several times, toddler-tantrum still rares its ugly head.

Now, I tell her, "stop doing XYZ, or you'll go to time out.  Do you want a time out?"  Her answer, "Yes!".  She wants a time out.  Or at least she answers positively to being sent to the "bad girl corner".  So, I comply.  "Bad girl corner" she goes.  Of course, she cries until she had enough.  Just like Supernanny, I go over, gives her a hug and explains to her why she was sent to time out.  She apologizes.  Time out over.

I'm not sure she understands what time out means.  Maybe in her mind, time-out means, I sit at the corner, then mommy give me hugs.  Need to get it in her little thick skull, I sit at the corner because I did something bad.

 
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Ei Yuv Vu

That's my little girl's version of "I love you".

She's a 28 month old genius (that's what the Mister and I believe).  She can recite the entire alphabet, can count up to 30 without help, her current favorite number is 100.  She can say 'chocoloate please' (chocolat prease), 'thank you' (sank you), 'cat' (in both English and Chinese), 'daddy's cell phone', 'bowling movie' (bowling moosie, aka "King Pin"), among other phrases.

So, I started teaching her to say the three little words that mommies everywhere can't wait to hear, "I LOVE YOU".  I cuddled her close, looked straight into her sparkling eyes and said in my most sing-song voice, "say 'I Love You, Mommy'".  She looked right back into my eyes with a hint of mischief and said "Ei yuv vu, Mommy".  "No no", I said.  "I LOVE YOU".  Making sure that I ennuciated every word and making sure no hint of chinglish leaked through.  Again.  "Ei yuv vu", she replied.

Hmm..., I thought, how can she have difficulty making the sounds "I Love You"?  She was able to say "Jupiter" and "trapezoid" after hearing those words a few times.

Again I looked into her now smiling eyes.  "Honey, say 'I Love You'".  She stared right back at me with more mischief, "Ei yuv vu".  Wiggled free of my hug and ran off.

I turned to the Mister: "I think she's messing with me.  I think she knows that I want to hear it and she is refusing to say it correctly."

Can this 28 month old be so devious and cunning?  I guess.  She is our little genius.

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I'm someone's Mom!

I know I'm a mom.  My little girl is over 2 years old.  But, it dawned on me again in the last few days, that I'm someone's mother.  Animal mothers on the nature shows always sacrifice to protect their offspring.  They hunt, they kill, they starve just so their little ones are fed, protected, and thrive.

Since I'm a human mother living in the suburbs surrounded by SUVs and supermarkets, I don't have to hunt, kill, or starve to make sure my offspring is nourished.  Still, I felt what it meant to be a mother animal.

One day, I was sharing a chicken noodle soup from a can with my girl.  There are limited pieces of chickens and carrots (the good stuff).  She loves the chicken and the carrots.  The noodles, not so much.  So, I picked out all the chicken and the carrots for her.  I ended up with just the noodle and soup.

On pizza night, I give up the sausage and pepperoni because she loves those.  Instead of a pizza with the works, I get plain pizza after she picks out all the meat.

These are just little things compared to taking down a gazelle.  But, now it's chicken and sausages.  Later, what else?  However, I gladly do this and any other sacrifices I have to make, because I love my little girl.

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What was I Listening to?

So, I created a late '80s early 90's hair band Pandora station (love technology). Now I can listen to the music I grew up with any time I want. No more tapes. No more waiting. I am shocked and aghast at the lyrics of those songs. I was barely into my teens when my friends and I screamed along at the top of our lungs. It never occurred to me at the time to really listen to what these hair bands were singing about. Now, I'm much older and finally got around to really listen. Whoa!!! Warrant's "Cherry Pie", Bulletboys' "Smooth Up" (in ya), and Winger's "17"? Don't need to be a genius to know what those songs were about.

My mom didn't speak much English then, and she worked 10+ hours days to put food on the table. Screening what I was listening to probably wasn't high on her priority list.

Now, I'm the mom of a little girl, I will have to assume the role of censor. Granted, my little girl is only 2. Her song list consists of Wheels on the Bus, Twinkle Twinkle, and ABC. But, it won't be long until she graduates to something a bit more mature. Am I prepared? What will I do? What will I say?

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Bottom of the Totem Pole

It's most likely a phase. All the books and mommy websites say, it's a phase. But, it still stings. My baby cries when I pick her up from grandma's arms. When she sees daddy standing behind me, she wiggles to reach for daddy and cuddles in his arms without any complaints. Even the cats get extra attention.
Yes, grandma spends the whole day, every day with her. Daddy plays with her as soon as he walks through the door. Me, the mommy, makes her go to bed and take naps; nothing fun. I know, no child will not love mommy because she is the bedtime and nap police. I just really really can't wait to have this phase end.

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1st day of school

No, my little baby is not old enough for school, or even nursery school. Her grandmother takes care of her at home so she doesn't need to go anywhere. I don't have to deal with the "back to school" separation stress like moms of school age children. But, she waved to us as we gave her a hug and walked toward the front door. No prompting from grandma. She was so adorable.

But, I was sadden that she knew we were leaving for the day. She might or might not understand that waving to mommy and daddy means goodbye. But, her little gesture still tugged at my heart string that my little baby is not that little anymore. She's slowly turning into a little person with thoughts and ideas of her own. And she's only 10 months old.

Time for baby no. 2??

I actually had this conversation with my girlfriends from high school recently. All of us are what the media consider overachieving professional women. Our dreams back when we were graduating HS were to go to top universities, then named grad schools, which leads right into big fancy jobs. Husbands and children were near the bottom of the priority list. The six of us pretty much got what we wanted, at 35, we are now globe-trotters, investment bankers, ad execs, scientists, but only 3 of the 6 have children. Only 1 of us has more than 1 child. We all hit that magical "high risk" age of 35.

Although we are proud of what we've achieved professionally, we certainly lament that fact that our priorities were what they were. The 3 that don't have children have the pretty much thrown in the proverbial towel. The 2 that have 1 child each gave birth months before our 35th birthday.

I'm one of the 2 that just gave birth months before my 35th birthday. I had to literally plan it out and execute on it. I didn't want to be 50 and look back and wished I chose a differnt priority list. Now, do I want a 2nd baby? My brain says no, but my heart is wavering. My brain has been winning all the debates my entire life. Maybe, sometimes, the heart should win once in a while.

Now I Wait

I am now less than 2 weeks away from my due date.  We decided that it's best that I don't make the daily nearly 2-hour long commute into work.    Today, I'm officially working from home while I wait for the "big day".  It felt strange to be working from home.  Not that I haven't done it before.  But this time it is not just for a doctor's appointment or taking care of something near our home.  I'm home getting ready for the ultimate transformation of our lives.  

The nursery is 99% complete.  All the baby clothes and linen have been washed and put away.  The babyseat is installed in the car.  There aren't too many things we can do to prepare for our new arrival.  But, mental preparation still need some work, at least on my part.  

I can feel and see her little feet pushing against my abdomen.  I know she's there and she will come out.  But, a small part of me wish that she stays inside.  As long as she's inside me, I won't have to prepare for her and take care of a brand new human being.

 

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Snap, Crackle, and Pop

More strangeness with my ever growing and changing body.  The latest one that freaks me out a bit is the popping my joints make.  These poping noises are most pronounce when I tries to rollover at night.  Now that I can't sleep my back anymore, I have to sleep on my side.  Since my body is not use to this new sleeping positions, I have to flip from one side to another pretty often.  

With my giant stomach, rotating from the left side to the right side is a concious endeavor.  I am practically fully awake when I rotate.  As I roll to my back, I hear "crack".  And when I finish the roll to the other side, I hear "pop".  The noise is so loud in my ears, I swear that my bones just popped out of their joints.  

 

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I was offered a seat

I was moved by a simple action by a fellow New Yorker.   It was raining pretty hard this past Friday.  So, Evan and I took the subway to Grand Central from work instead of walking.  The train ride is short, only 2 stops.  Evan and I stood in the train like usual since it was only 2 stops away.  As the train door closed and I grab hold of the pole to steady myself.  A young lady offer me her seat.  I kindly refused since I will be getting off the train very soon anyway.  I was touched by her simple gesture.  

I didn't think I was that pregnant to warrant someone offering me a seat, since I still walk from Grand Central to the office everyday, which is about half a mile away.  But, I guess at 8 months, I'm very pregnant in other people's eyes.

 

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New Baby Ultrasound

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Evan and I went to take our 3rd trimester ultarsound.  Our little nugget definitely look alot more human like now.  She is currently weighing in at 4-lb 8-ounces.  That sounds like a lot.  

I was so excited to see her little face.  I was able to see her eyes, her little button nose, her lips, and her little fingers.  Evan was just as excited as I was, but I think he wsa expecting more realistic pictures.  We are both anxious to meet her in a few weeks.  I can't believe that we are going to have a baby in less than 2 months!

 

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I can have sugar

I'm relieved to get the call from my doctor this week.  My GCT (glucose challenge test) came back elevated, the nurse told me over the phone.  And, I'm slightly anemic, she said.  Okay, 2 possible non-normal incidents.  I have to start a iron supplement for the low blood count.  As for the elevated glucose count, I needed to take the 3 hour long GTT (glucse tolerance test). 

The 3 hour long GTT was boring.  I gave a blood sample early in the day after fasting from midnight the night before.  I swig down the glucose water as instructed.  I sat and waited for an hour until the next sample was collected.  I sat and waited for another hour for the next sample collection.   3 hours, I sat and waited.  4 samples altogether. 

My doctors nurse called me the day after and told me that the GTT result came back normal.  Phew.  I don't have to worry about that non-normal incidents.

She Kicks

I felt it.  I'm pretty sure I did.  When I lied down for bed last night, I felt a strange bubble in the lower abdomin.  The bubble moved from the right to the left side of my stomach.  I knew, I have been expecting it.  My little girl is moving inside me.  Now that I'm aware of it, she kept me up late, way past my normal bed time.  And I'm pretty sure that her little movement woke me at 5 in the morning.  Not something I do.  Well, I guess this is just another part of my life that have and will change with having a baby.

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It's a Girl!

Our little nugget is a GIRL! The technician who performed the sonogram told us that she saw "girl parts". She seemed very confident that whatever she saw in the sonogram indicates that our little growing nugget is a girl. Now, we can start picking out little girl names and Evan is dreaming of the cute little girl that he will pamper and adore.

We got more sonogram printouts. The technician pointed out her spinal column, thigh bone, heart beat, etc to us. It was amazing to see our adorable creation develop so fast. We were even lucky to see her hiccup, at least we saw her mouth moved. However, the sonogram printout makes her head looked just like a skull. The technician assured us that it is normal. The baby will fill in and she will not look like Skeletor from He-Man.

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32 oz and hold

Who's bright idea is it that a pregnant woman has to drink 32 oz of water in one hour and not allow to pee. Today is our second trimester sonogram. The instruction given to me was, "empty bladder at 8am, drink 4 8 oz glasses of water by 9am, the technician will do the sonogram at 10am."

It's 9am now, I'm a few ounces shy of the 32 oz. The only thoughts in my mind are can I go pee and get away with it? Will the technician know that I cheated. Will peeing screw everything up? I think I'm leaking. And I seriously think that I'm going to pee all over myself on the way to the doctor's office.

With all these great medical technology and inventions, why can't someone figure out a way to do this sonogram without the modern day water torture.

2 hours later.....

Okay, I cheated. I couldn't hold the 32 ounces of water for 2 hours. I had to go. I drank more water after I peed to make up for the fluid that I let out.  Then, half an hour later, I had to peed again.  But, the technician didn't notice anything. I wasn't busted.  Everything worked.  I really wonder why I had to go through this painful ritual.

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Children and Parents

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Evan and I attended the first birthday for the son of our good friends, Myhong and Man. The party was attended by many of my friends whom I've known since high school. I haven't seen many of them in ages and it was great to see all of them again. I also haven't seen many of their children. Seems like everyone came with a baby. I, being a few months pregnant, am definitely the "newbie" in the crowd.

Looking across the room filled with people that I've known for nearly half of my life was revealing. I remember the teenage us, what school will we attend? The college us, we were unsure of our future but full of aspirations. The young professional us; the world was in ours to explore. Now, the parent us. Strollers replaced the ever-present backpacks 15 years ago. Small bundles of young lives absorbed our attention instead of the latest movie, bar, or restaurant. Our lives evolved. My pregnancy made me feel part of this evolution instead of wanting to "stay young" forever.

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Super-sized in Wal-Mart

Now that I'm barely fitting into my old cloths, we drove to our local Wal-Mart to see what I can find to fit my new ballooning body. Since I figured that I won't need anything too fancy for maternity cloths, I figure Wal-Mart quality should suffice.

Others have recommended that I look for maternity stuff that's labeled with my pre-pregnancy size. So, we went into the giant Wal-Mart, distracted by the kaleidoscope of stuff for sale, like usual. Finally, after about 15 minutes of roaming through the aisles, we found it. Several large racks stood under the sign "Maternity". I started going through the rack, I was completely shocked. Nothing was smaller than a size 10 or L (large). After going through 3 or 4 racks, I gave up. I was not going find anything for me in Wal-Mart. I'll probably have have to pay an arm and a leg for cloths that I will only wear for 6 months.

My search ended on a positive note. Not in Wal-Mart. There is a Motherhood maternity store in our local mall. I bought 3 slacks, 5 shirts for less than $150. Not bad.

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