Solidarity

“Me too! Me too! Me too!” Thumper utters in one breath as she trails behind her sister, trying to copy her next move, whatever that may be. Sitting at the back of the couch? Sure. Jumping off a mini ledge? Yes. Eating jellyfish and sushi? Of course!

Yes, we’re at this me too me too stage now, and that’s pretty much all we hear all day. The two-year-old may not end up enjoying everything, but she at least tries them because she wants to emulate her big sister, who, at 4.5 years, already has a rather profound influence on her development at this stage.

Big sisters do that apparently.

We get a lot of “I don’t yike this either!” as Thumper joins in on her sister’s protest du jour. And we certainly hear more “Missy hit me pirst (first)!“ than we care to. Naturally, where there are two, there’s bound to be blame and competition: “Me won!” “No, Thumper, I won!” “No, me won pirst!” “There’s no such thing. I won! You lost!” “Yes, me yost!”

There’s also plenty of pretend playing, with the girls alternating mommy and baby roles every day. Today, Thumper declared to me first thing in the morning, “Me the mommy; Missy is the baby” and she called out to Little Miss, “I’ll be wight back, teetaht (sweetheart)” in her most sophisticated mommy voice. It can be pretty hilarious, especially when we’re in public and Thumper runs after her sister, calling, “Mama, mama!” confusing or amusing the strangers around her.

I may not have a sibling, but I expected all of this. I knew this was a natural progression for a two-year-old making her own place within our family, vying for attention, establishing her identity relative to her bigger, more capable older sister.

Yet, sometimes, even when I am fully aware of to expect, I am taken aback when I am suddenly faced with what I knew would happen. Like this moment last Thursday:

After Little Miss huffily stormed into the bedroom and begrudgingly sat on the little green chair in the corner for a timeout, Thumper followed her and planted herself on the floor right beside her, facing her sister.

“Don’t go in there, Thumper. Your sister is in timeout.” I said, but it fell on deaf ears. Instead, I saw Thumper whispering to her sister, and she held out her hand to stop me from entering the bedroom.

Thumper knew I wasn’t pleased with her sister’s irreverence. I think she also suspected that Little Miss had a little bit of defiance left in her as she sat squirming and itching to retaliate further from her timeout chair.

That’s when Thumper gently patted her big sister’s knee and quietly said, “You stay here,” as if to say listen to mommy, stop fighting, and you can get out of here.

And in that same motion, when their eyes met, it felt like she had also assured her big sister that she was there, at her side, and more importantly, on her side.

Little Miss stopped twitching. Both girls turned to look at me with the same dark eyes, in solidarity, daring me to penetrate an invisible shield they had both created from an implicit understanding.

I took a moment to drink that moment in, and then chose to walk away, in awe of what I’d just witnessed. They were on the same side. Two against one.

Suddenly, that part of our future unfolded before me and sent an uncomfortable twist to my sides. I knew they would unite against me someday, but it did nothing to prepare me for it.

I have to admit, as much as I hated being the one to their two, I was proud to see them taking a stand together. Oh how I wish it was the beginning of an amazing and unbreakable bond between these girls.

A sisterhood of shared secrets, spoken and unspoken, of hands and hearts bound together, by blood and by choice.

As with any parent of two or more children, I can only hope that when I’m no longer here for them, they will be there for each other, which is why being one against their two doesn’t bother me as much.

How ironic that my greatest wish for them as a parent may someday also be my biggest challenge. 

 

I Have Issues: The Party Girl Edition

 
I have not yet composed the birthday letter to my newly minted two-year-old as per my usual Extreme Birthday Celebrant self. In fact, I didn’t do much of anything that’s usual for Thumper’s birthday this year.

When a birthday approaches, I get into this mode: I craft, I bake, I create, I get fancy. In short, my brain short-circuits a little, and I live outside my comfort zone for the days, even weeks, leading up to a birthday.





For Little Miss’ first year, I decided to go with a tea party (yes, for the one-year-old who could barely drink out of a cup herself, let alone enjoy the tea). It was inspired by a cameo pendant, so I special-ordered a cake to match it, I scoured the local vintage shops for dainty porcelain tea sets, shopped for attire (for both Little Miss and myself) that fit the theme, made scones, tea sandwiches, and teapot shaped cut-out cookies with her initials that I spent too many nights trying to perfect (and possibly cried over a little at 2 AM when they were nearly done, but not quite, and it seemed like it would never end).

Intricate, fussy work is just not my thing. It’s hardly ever my thing, but I thought, once a year, for my daughter’s birthday, I should do something special. Now, it’s twice a year, and so I toil with each birthday. Sometimes, like an idiot.

For Little Miss’ third birthday, my mom, My Guy, and I became a factory, churning out a gazillion and two cake pops for a balloon-themed party to go with the balloon pit, balloon decorations, and balloon favors. Naturally, I handcrafted balloon-inspired thank you cards after the event.

This year, I got Thumper 20 purple balloons and lost 10 of them to crazy winds before I could even reach home. It was painful to watch it fly away from my inches-away grasp, but not the end of the world, because that was just bonus. After our trip to the water park to celebrate her birthday, I’d resigned myself to a simpler celebration, so the balloons were actually a last-minute addition.

In fact, I refused to even call it a party – just a play date with friends – as a way to trick my brain to chill out. That also meant doubling my effort to quiet the chorus of guilt because this year, for this special two-year-old of mine, I didn’t do anything out of the ordinary.

With only three days from the time we returned from our trip to the weekend, which was when we invited our neighbors and Thumper’s closest playmates over for a belated celebration of her big 0-2, and with work taking up most of my “free” time, I had no choice but to surrender my Party OCD to the stars.

And boy, did I ever.

People were scheduled to arrive at 3:30, and I didn’t get home from the store (after losing half the balloons) until 2:30. Everything was purchased, from cupcakes to snacks, and I barely squeezed in a much needed shower. I only decided on Thumper’s birthday outfit when something new arrived in the mail that afternoon. The other option was something in the closet that she had never found the occasion to wear.

In the end, she had a great time. She didn’t know that the guests were casually invited, mentioned in passing during a play date, rather than an elaborate daddy-designed digital invitation card (he’d created an animated GIF invite for Little Miss’ party one year), she didn’t know 10 balloons were missing (and probably making some other kids smile when they spy them floating in the sky), she didn’t know that the hodgepodge of paper plates were leftovers from previous parties, and she didn’t know her cupcakes weren’t homemade.

Nor would she have cared.

I know.  I have always known, but perhaps having been a full-time working mom before this led me to overcompensate. I felt compelled to make the weekends more lively for the kids (frenetic for the grownups) and the special days more special (but stressful for me) to make up for the time I didn’t get to spend with them.

Yet, despite the grocery-store-sponsored party, she smiled, she grinned, she snorted, she laughed, she said “butt-butt” and “toot” a lot, she announced “cake time!”, she kicked off her own Happy Birthday song, she said plenty of thank you’s, she kissed, she hugged, she twirled and fell, and she twirled some more.

The Teddy Grahams, raisins, juice, cheese sticks, grapes, and Goldfish crackers made the kids happy, and Thumper even got to devour one cupcake and three frostings. After the last of the guests left, she went to bed saying “Night night, mommy…I wub you…see you in the morning,” just like she does every night.

I didn’t have to do more. The thing is, I never had to. But now that I see that pre-party stress prep yields the same happy, contented birthday girl as pre-party no prep, I can’t believe I once cried into a cookie.

Wisconsin Dells in pictures (and words!)

Four days, three nights, seven hundred water slides, and five tons of cheese later, we’re back from our mini getaway at the Wisconsin Dells. It was heaven for the girls - water park, theme park, hotel, restaurants, and movie theater in one colossal, never-ending building. In the words of my four-year-old, who couldn’t help but yell, “Oh my goodness, it’s humongous!” when she first spied the resort.

It rained a lot while we were there, but who cares? We didn’t have to leave the building to get anywhere! Well, except for the occasional trips for our meals (because we could only stand to have so much mediocre resort fare) and shopping. (Outlet mall right down the street!)

The first order of business, before we even set foot in our hotel, was to head to the outlet stores to procure appropriate attire. For this family, it usually means proper footwear. Yes, we have a thing for shoes. Even the little one had an opinion - “Puh-ple shoes!” – but that’s not a stretch. She would’ve asked for puh-ple milk if she could.

After that, we spent most of our days in the water. Little Miss wasted no time with Thumper and myself in the tiny tots area. She was off with her daddy, trying every slide she could go on, lucky that she barely made it past the 42-inch height restriction on most of these gigantic, twisty slides.

I was proud of my brave girl, but I was also grateful for the company of the little one who tentatively tried each slide in the section just for tots before she, too, mastered them, sometimes going up and down a particular one so many times that after 20, I stopped counting.

When they’re not growing fins, they’re at the theme park, where we had our first Ferris Wheel ride together as a family, and Little Miss’ and my first go-cart experience. The girls also tried mini-golfing for the first time, although Thumper was more exciting about aiming and throwing the (rather heavy) golf ball at us (ouch!) than actually getting it into the holes.

This trip was planned around Thumper’s second birthday, so on the last day there, we surprised her with a chocolate cupcake for breakfast, complete with two purple candles. Throughout our stay, we’d mention, “Who’s birthday is in X days?” and she’d smile, “Me!” And she would start to sing the Happy Birthday song to herself. "What are we going to have that day?” we’d ask, and she would tremble with excitement as she replied, “Cake!”

On the day of her birthday, we spent the morning in the water after cake and presents, and the rest of the afternoon traveling home. I felt bad that we had to get the birthday girl a Happy Meal for lunch so we could eat on the go, but it’s our special road trip meal that the girls looked forward to, so I suppose, if it did make her happy, I shouldn’t feel so guilty.

This is the same girl who, a few weeks ago pointed at the iconic golden arches as we passed one in the city and cheered, “HotDonald’s! HotDonald’s!” To which we laughed and responded, ”Thumper, it’s MAC-Donald’s!” So perhaps having HotDonald’s on her birthday was actually a good thing. For her, anyway. So, really, (in a tiny voice) go me?

However, we were in Wisconsin, which is famous for their beer and cheese, and everywhere we went had a menu that seemed poised to attack our arteries. If it isn’t cheesy, it’s deep-fried. Or cooked with beer. And by our fifth meal there, we pretty much exhausted the variety of food they had. In the entire town, not just the resort.

You know it’s pretty bad when my two-year-old squealed with delight and exclaimed, “Bwokee!” and “Maaaato!!!” (broccoli/tomato) and set her fries or pizza or chicken tenders aside for those. Granted, she does enjoy her veggies, but that zeal she displayed was especially telling of our poor diet there. Note to self for our next visit: Bring groceries; cook!

That was the one thing I wish I could change about our visit. Our one-bedroom suite came equipped with a nice-sized eat-in kitchen and living area. We should’ve made better use of it. Oh well, at least now I know, and next time (oh yes, there will be a next time) I will be prepared.

When we reached home, Thumper, who left the house a one-year-old and came home a two-year-old, opened more presents, and we ordered sushi and Thai for dinner as a proper celebratory meal for her. She was eager to stuff her face with stir-fried noodles and rice again, and who can blame her? When the spicy banana blossom salad hit my mouth, it was a Hallelujah (think Handel’s “Messiah”) moment for me.

Oh, it’s so good to be back. 

 
* * *

 

So that was our trip in words. And now, the pictures!

Crocs for every girl in the house!

 

 

As if we didn’t have enough to schlep, we had to make sure to bring their pillows and sleeping buddies too

At Cracker Barrel, another road-trip staple

 

 
“Maaaato!!!” (These were actually from the burger fixings station, except to her, they were lunch)

Flight of beer from local brewery

 
Vacation staples: Pina Colada and Giant Margarita

Tentative steps at first

Little slide, little sister

Big slide, big sister





Mad skills, dude!

Ferris Wheel

Top of the Dells (on the Ferris Wheel)

 
Photo booth

Bumper boat

Yes, it’s a blur; I was just that fast. No really, it was me (and Little Miss), I swear

A rite of passage for daddy’s side of the family

 
‘Twas the night before she turned two…




 
It was just Thumper and me in the hotel room while her daddy and sister stayed at the Theme Park on the last night she was one. I kept her up, reluctant to say good night to my baby, knowing that when she awakes the next day, she would be two. Officially, no longer a “baby”. 

  But who am I kidding? These kids, these girls of ours, they’ll always be our babies.
No matter how fast and far they run from us…

 

When life gives you a fish eyeball

When life gives you a fish eyeball (that fell out of your kid’s stuffed animal)…you do your best pirate impression. 

Arrr!

And that’s reason number I-lost-count why I love my goofy family.

A little back story:
There are two stuffed fish that shares Thumper’s crib when she sleeps. One is pink, called Pink Fish, which is also the mommy, according to Thumper, who classifies all creatures as mommy or baby, and the other is purple, called Purple Fish – What? Don’t look at me. I didn’t name them!  

One day, Pink Fish lost an eye from daddy’s aggressive man-handling, so we made the best of it. But it was Thumper who inspired us when she did a mini role play upon discovering the missing eye.

Thumper, to Purple Fish: Aaahh! Hide!
Then she brings the fish to me and says: Puh-ple Fish is scared!
Me: Oh? Why?
Thumper, with mock alarm: Puh-ple Fish scared; Mommy Fish a Pie-weht! 

I might have snorted water out of my nose then.

In other news, when you’re reading this, we’re either on our way to or already at the “Waterpark Capital of the World” a.k.a. Wisconsin Dells to celebrate my baby’s second birthday - a first visit for three out of four of us. We figured, with a family of daredevil aqua babies, we can’t go wrong with water, rides, water, and more water. And lots of dairy. It’s Wisconsin after all.

We’ve not had a vacation in a long time, so this will be a welcome respite from our routine, even though it’s just four short days, three hours away from home. And, really, when you have kids, vacation takes on a different meaning.

Last time I checked, wrangling little kids isn’t exactly relaxing. It’s just another kind of the stress from which we’re trying to escape (did we pack all necessary electronics and gadgetry plus their chargers? will they nap in the car? another meal with fries?!) – only this version is a lot cuter.

But even then, I just know it’s going to be a blast. With these goofballs, how can it not be?

 

* * *

 

Have a Happy Memorial Day weekend!

p.s. Follow me on Instagram for a play-by-play of our “Wild Nights in Wisconsin”. You know you want to…

Too much

Thumper, who turns two in six days (WHAT??! NO!!!), often preempts my concerns after a fall with a quick, “I’m otay, mama!” or “Me pine (fine), mama!” before I could even ask about her spill. But, on Monday, with a fever that hovered steadily at around 103.5 all day, she couldn’t offer that peace of mind.

She woke at a little after 4 AM drenched in sweat and crying. My Guy brought her into bed with us after he took her temperature, and I knew it was not going to be an easy night. Or day, for that matter. I was half right.

As sick as she was, surprisingly, she didn’t fuss all that much. In fact, in between spikes of fever, she was rather entertaining. When the sound from a siren woke her up for the day, and she found herself between her parents, she exclaimed, “Eet up, duys! (Get up guys!) Fietwuck outside!” Soon after, she heard the birds that prompted her second exclamation for the day: “Hey duys, I heah buh-dies! (birdies)”

Yes, she’s easily excitable. My Guy and I were still groggy, both turning away from her, when this last one finally pulled me out of my sleep-soaked state: “Yook (look) duys! I have bown he-ah! (brown hair)” she announced as she clutched fistfuls of her own hair, like we hadn’t known that previously. I had to chuckle and give up on sleep. Apparently, that part was over, but what a way to wake up, with this smiling, precious toddler between us. It could’ve been a lot worse.

Eventually, it did get there. Her fever rose even higher and all she could manage was to lay quietly next to me in bed. Unlike the last time she was out of sorts, My Guy was at home so he could care for Little Miss, who felt left out because she was healthy and we weren’t doting on her like we were her sister. She started to complain of a headache, which was understandable, but not quite believable, but I decided to play along.

We tried to explain to the four-year-old that we would have done the same for her – to stay right next to her to care for her had she been the one afflicted – but appeals for empathy would only go so far at this stage.

After My Guy brought Little Miss to preschool, Thumper and I spent the rest of the morning in bed. She would only sleep if I was right next to her, with my hand clutched between hers, so as she lay there softly breathing, I thought about all the tasks I had planned for today that had to wait. Thankfully, I had a smart phone that allowed me to get to some client emails, but with only one hand, I accomplished little so I spent the rest of the time thinking about what led us here.

We had an unusually busy weekend, which started last Wednesday(!) when we went for a fan sneak preview of the latest Star Trek movie, “Star Trek Into Darkness”, and then went back again for a second viewing after we hosted a small party for friends on Saturday. (Can we say geeks?) Two movies in one week (and the same one, at that) was quite an indulgence, but it didn’t end there.

In between those were play dates with friends at the beach and the park, a jaunt to the library, a highly anticipated concert (The Shins!), and a lovely evening out to meet a fellow blogger, Rudri, who was visiting Chicago with her family.

 

 

I remember thinking over the weekend, man, I can’t wait till Monday (and who actually says that?) because we might have been a little overzealous with our social plans. Perhaps it was in response to My Guy’s more stable schedule, now that his business travels have slowed down, that we tried to fit as much in as we could, as if making up for when he was gone for much of last month.

Of course, the ever-present mama’s guilt led me to think that I might have run my toddler ragged with all the activities. But she didn’t go to the movies and concert or spend a late night out with friends. She was home, asleep! I argued with myself, grasping at any possibility that it might not have been my fault.

The little one spent the rest of the day drifting in and out of sleep, although her naptime in her crib only lasted an hour, which meant I still wasn’t able to catch up on the tasks I had on my to-do list. There were three deadlines that Monday, which I couldn’t get to over the weekend for obvious reasons, but knowing that we would have a sitter Monday morning convinced me that I would be able to get to all of it.

You’d think that nearly four and a half years of parenting would have taught me something. Like “expect the unexpected” and “things don’t always go according to plan”. Like a toddler with an inexplicable fever. So there went my brilliant plan. (Can you tell I’m still struggling with this whole work-at-home-mom (WAHM) thing?)

Thumper wouldn’t leave my side, and every time she was uncomfortable from the fever, she would cry, but she would still remember her manners as she implored “tissue please...” and once it’s in her hand, “thank you, mama,” in between sniffles.

It’s bad enough to helplessly watch her suffer through her ailment, but what killed me were the please and thank you’s that accompanied her requests. It’s so Thumper. Ever so sweet, and so full of surprises.

Watching “The Wonder Pets” at her request and occasionally singing along and cooing, “Aww…” at the sight of baby animals, which told me that she was at least not at an alarming state.

Occasionally, I could still bring a smile to her face, especially when I mentioned her upcoming birthday. “What are we going to do for your birthday?" I’d ask, and she’d respond with a twinkle in her eye, “Sing hattie dehd-day! Bow tandou (blow candle)…Eat tate! (cake) Weh (wear) hattie dehd-day hat!”

I didn’t tell her that we would also be at a waterpark resort at the Wisconsin Dells for the weekend to celebrate her special day. I wanted to wait to surprise her and see the reaction on this water baby’s face when she sees the place.

Her fever finally broke close to bedtime, after a dose of infant Tylenol, much to my reluctance at administering it. While not sprightly, she was delighted with her fruit popsicle, which was the only “solid” food she ate all day. There were multiple “water please” requests, but nothing else appealed to her. Not even the “jook” (rice porridge) that My Guy picked up from our favorite Chinese restaurant, a staple in our house for anyone afflicted by sickness because of my own half-Chinese upbringing that mandated this healing comfort food.

I spent the night finally getting to my tasks and woke early for a run the next day while everyone was still asleep. When I came home at 7:30, I was greeted by the sounds of a healthy toddler on the monitor. The rest of the day was spent at the playground, where she reveled in the sunlight that she missed the day before, slowly returning to her old self.

After naptime, we picked Little Miss up early from preschool, and My Guy took us all out for ice cream to celebrate good health and glorious sunshine. (Can I just quickly mention how much I love our current lifestyle where we can just take a break and spend time together in the middle of the afternoon?)

 

Does this look like a child who had a 103.5 fever the day before?

At the end of the day, when I was trying to console a crying Little Miss (although I forget the reason why – perhaps because they’re often not really end-of-the-world important like they make it out to be) as I was tucking her in at bedtime, Thumper, who was already comfortably snuggled under her own blanket next to us in the crib, called out: “You otay, Missy? Mama, Missy needs tissue.”

Yup, that sounds like the Thumper I know (and adore to pieces), always looking out for everyone around her.

After tending to my big girl, I turned to the little one for a last kiss goodnight and to make sure she had everything she needed for the night, when she offered without my prompting, “Me pine, mama; me happy.”

And all was right with the world again.