it's only the beginning

The other day I was lecturing Luke on some random thing that I can't even remember what it was. 

Well, I was shocked and surprised when he retaliated and expressed his anger saying something that I was totally not expecting to hear.

He called me an idiot.

Yes, an idiot.

Of course, my jaw dropped.

He obviously heard that from someone in preschool, and NOT in our house.  Because the house rule is that (especially for Dave and I) we NEVER say such words to each other (or in general) in the house...words like "stupid"..."dumb"..."idiot"...

But of course, here's Luke dropping "idiot" like it's the word "mommy" or "water".

Oy.

Needless to say, I lectured him (nicely, of course) about the word idiot and told him that it hurt my feelings to hear him say that to me.

And he knew that it was not a nice thing to say as soon as the word left his mouth and he saw my reaction. 

I later told Dave what he called me and he laughed. 

Indeed, we can't shelter them from these things.  And I know it will only get worse as they start school and get surrounded by kids whose parents utter these words in front of them and have habits that would make me faint. 

But, I need to just trust in our parenting.  And trust that I - we -  are raising them in a way that they will have good judgment to do and say what's right and good when confronted by not-so-pleasant things, words, whatevah...

Ayayayayayayay.

Letter to my Lu-Lu

My Dearest Lu-Lu,

You are my youngest child by one minute and you are now as old as the number of years I spent in college.   My, how time flies.

All too often, your daddy and I have referred to you and your twin sister as a unit. After all, you were conceived together, you lived in my belly and subsisted on my nutrients together, you were born together and have cribbed together. And now, 4 years later, not only do you school together but you are each other's 24/7 playmates. So unique is your relationship with your twin sister that I hope you cherish what you have...it is a bond unlike any other.

Despite all of this, please know that we've always recognized you and your sister as two very unique, lovely individuals who bring such different aspects of delight to our lives.

And, like my letter to your sister, I wanted to write you a letter so that you know who you are but also, and most importantly, so you understand what and how much you mean to me during this crazy, hectic, beautiful time in our lives.

If Hannah is the cat, you definitely personify the loyal puppy dog: you are warm, loyal, welcoming, perennially energetic, charming.  I love it when you run to me after a long day at work and knock me down with your enthusiastic, vigorous, signature Luke-hugs. You have one of the most warm, loving hearts I have ever seen.

There are many sides to you, Luke but at it's core, you are an open book.  On   one hand you are analytical, methodical in your approach to solving problems, organized.  On the other hand, you are a free-spirit and love to go where the wind blows.  You love to be the center of attention;  you are often the life of the party.  You invite people to participate in your world by constantly engaging others around you, including your not-so-gregarious sister.   You love to sing at the top of your lungs.   You love to dance.   You jump up and down when you get excited and scream, "Hurray!"  You are like the Energizer bunny and keep going and going and going... constantly in motion.   You are not easily embarrassed and are completely unapologetic of who you are and what you are doing.  I so admire this quality in you and am in awe of you every day.

You wear your heart on your sleeve, always - whether you are ecstatic or sad, angry or surprised.  You are a quick study.    Your self-awareness and emotional IQ in relating to others constantly amazes me; I only hope you sustain this awareness as you get older...it's a good trait to have.

And perhaps because of your self-awareness, you are able to project this awareness in how you interact with others around you.  You are a sensitive little boy - you are easily amused, but at the same time, you readily get angry or frustrated.    And sometimes this anger and frustration is manifested in playing control games with your daddy and I.  A favorite of yours is to "reset" and start over at the point the affliction was made.  You don't easily let things go; you often want to go back and start over  before you can move forward.   And like Hannah, you picked up a trait (or two...or three) of mine that I am not proud of  and that I am aware I need to change.   I only hope you can cultivate those coping skills as you grow older.

As your mother, I am so aware of your capability to charm and break hearts in the not-so-distant future.    In fact, you already have a following in our neighborhood.  :)   I am sensitive to raise you into responsible young man who is respectful of women and what we bring to the table.  And the only way I can best do this is by role modeling behavior of a woman, a mother, a wife who leads a balanced life.  I am hoping you pay careful attention to the woman who is raising you (and of course, your daddy too).

I love that you are not afraid to show me how you feel about me every day, whether it's jumping on my back and giving me a Luke-hug from behind, or slopping on one of your big wet kisses on my nose.    I especially love when you look into my eyes and tell me "I love you, mommy" and tell me I am beautiful.    What mom doesn't find her son saying such things music to her ears?

You are truly momma's little boy and are one of the biggest delights of my life.

If I were 4 years old again I would want to marry you.

Explaining career decisions to a 3 year old

My fellow work-away-from-the-home mom friends with older kids warned me this would happen soon enough.

Well, it's here and it's happened...or should I say, happening.

It went down like this...

***************************
Tonight, 9pm - Good night routine

Me: Good night my honeys...it's lights-out now. Mommy has to go downstairs and do some work for a little bit.

Luke: Are you leaving us?

Me: No, I'm going to be downstairs in the office.

Luke: In the home office?

Me: Yes, sweetheart, in the home office.

Luke: And will you be here in the daytime tomorrow?

(sigh)

Me: No, honey, mommy won't be in the home office tomorrow. I have to go to work and be in my work office tomorrow morning. But I'll be back in the afternoon and it will still be daytime. Hope that's OK.

Luke: But whyyyy, mommy? I want you to stay with us during the daytime in the morning. Mommy, we have a home office and you can work downstairs.

Me: Luke honey, I have to go in and be with my work colleagues to get some things done (yes, I used the word colleagues with my 3 year old and strangely, I think he understood).

Luke: But whyyyyy?

Me: Honey, I have responsibilities at work and have to get them done.

Luke: But what about Luke and Hannah?

(sigh)

Me: You and Hannah and daddy are the most important people in my life.   In addition to being your mommy, I work so that I can be a well-rounded and happy and overall better person, which also makes me a better mommy. 

Luke:  (Pause.  He looks at me quizzically.)

Me: (I should have shut up there and left it at that, but I kept going.) ...And I also work so that I can help daddy provide a great life for our family.   I hope you understand that.

Luke: (Pause)   

OK, are we still going to Disneyland next week when we go on vacation?

************************

No joke.

I can't believe I'm already explaining why I work to our 3-year-olds, and something tells me that this won't be the last time I have this discussion.   And if it makes them feel better to know that it helps pay for our vacations and enables us to go to Disneyland, then so be it.

But it still makes me sad.

I hope someday they understand.

A 3-year-old's view of the world

Luke: Mommy, I wanted to show you something.


Me: Yes, sweetie.

Luke: This is what we see on the way to preschool in the morning.

Me: What do you mean, Luke? What is it? (looking quizzically at the toy cars he's placed on the bin)
Luke: It's traffic, mommy. (Like it was the most obvious thing I should have acknowledged).

I smile and think to myself that this is a blog-worthy moment to capture on film and in type script.

Me: And who's this? (pointing to the Transformer)

Luke: This is the guy who tells the cars where to go. And they do it because he's big.

Broccoli

Last Monday night, Dave and I went to our parenting class (which is a totally different post alltogether) so we had Alejandra, our old nanny of two years, watch the kids. When we came back that night, Alejandra told me that Luke ate a whole plate of broccoli for dinner, among other things.

My jaw dropped.

Now let me tell you something about Luke. Like many toddlers and preschoolers (or kids for that matter!) Luke is a carbo-loader by nature. If it's got any form of carbohydrates (especially bread product) in it, he will eat it. He has a natural aversion to anything that does not take a bread-like form. (Although he does like chicken and fish too, thank goodness). But if it's veggies or even remotely non-grain-like in texture, he won't even try it. Even if I entice him with a treat afterward, he shakes his head vigorously. Veggies = "No can do mommy."

So imagine my surprise when I heard that he had a whole plate of broccoli...from someone other than his mommy no less. What gives?!

Once I got over the fact that he agreed to eat veggies from someone other than me or Dave, (after months, years of trying to feed him such nutrients), I thought I would check it out myself.

Sure enough, twice this past week he ate broccoli. And gladly, I gave him his two mini oatmeal cookies as a dessert treat.

Alejandra is coming over again tonight to watch the kids. I think I'll ask her to try spinach and carrots.

Bribery and The Poopy Cake

Ah, the art and science of the #2.  Yes, that #2.  

The science of it all is quite simple, really - from the ever-popular words of Taro Gomi's beloved potty-training book Everyone Poops, "All living things eat, so...everyone poops."

But it's the art that's more interesting.  Especially for Hannah, my 3 1/2 year old who has still not mastered the art of the poop.

In fact, she claims that she is afraid of it.  Why?  I have no clue.

After almost a year of being potty trained, she still won't do it.  Even with all of Luke's gloating when he takes his daily dump, her typical competitive spirit won't budge when it comes to poop.

I saw my cousin in the Bay Area recently and vented to her about my potty training issues with Hannah.  

"Oh, you've got it all wrong."

"What do you mean?"

"Incentives, Clarissa.  Try this."  (gesturing to a piece of colored construction paper posted on her son's bathroom wall with a hand-drawn cake with candles and scribbled-in stars atop a few of the candles)

"What's this?"

"A poopy cake.  Every time she poops, put a star on one of the candles of the cake.  After 10 stars, tell her you'll take her to Target where she can pick out a small toy.  Once I did this, he was pooping like, 2 times a day!" 

"Really?  Isn't this just a form of bribery?"

"Yes, but it works.  Try it.  I guarantee you'll get results."

I obviously haven't caught on to the practice of bribery.  And this obviously is not a new idea. But better late than never. 

So I ended up creating this.

As I write this post, I am interrupted ironically, by Luke, who claims needing help with the potty.

(10 minutes pass)

I just drew another star on Luke's poopy cake and defeatedly, I just threw another dirty, poopy pull-up of Hannah's who held her bowels all day to wait for that extra cushion.

Oy vey.