For Mei Lun

Within our close circle of med school buddies, Mei-Lun and Larry take the prize for receiving the absolute worst wedding gift ever (although I'd like to eventually share a doozy of our own). They unwrapped a large box of chocolates with anticipation, only to find inside the box a little printed note:

"YOUR FREE GIFT WITH PURCHASE"

No doubt, Mei would have hired the services of Rat.

Wearwy Me

I am wearwy, so wearwy that I can't even say the word properly. So this is what it feels like to really work hard. I believe I have truly reached the edges of my mental capacity after a 2-day marathon session of frantic preparations for a group project on a deadline. I used to be pretty proud of my womanly multi-tasking abilities, but I almost let the ball drop today with forgetting Connor at his after-school Chinese class were it not for the call from my wonderful nanny (thank goodness she is back!). I would have come home and wondered where my dear son had gone. If nothing else, I must teach my children to look out for themselves at a young and tender age because it's clearly survival of the fittest in our household. Mommy is just a husk today, a mere shell of her former self -- Ah, to sleep, perchance to dream...

Have His Cake and Eat It Too!

At the encouragement of his big brother (why can I see only trouble ahead), Benjamin dove right into his baby brother's first birthday rice cake which tastes sort of like a dense version of the dough in steamed roast pork buns -- yum.

After multiple passes and licks by both mischievous little boys in front of a full table of company, Bobby's dad piped up as the host, "O.K., everyone, let's have cake!"

I have never seen a room full of such nervous smiles before!

The Max Has Chosen

The Prophecy has spoken. Our lots have been cast. With the passing of the Korean first birthday rite this weekend for our youngest son, Max, Bob and I are now secure in the knowledge of what lies ahead of us. Along with the usual festivities, feasting, and fotos, the Korean first birthday celebration typically includes a ceremony where the child is presented a choice of objects to foretell his future -- an ink brush symbolizes scholarship, rice the seeds of many offspring, noodles long life, paper currency great wealth, and so on.

Six years ago, Connor's first choices were not traditional, a neurology reflex hammer and a golf club. At least Bob and I know that one of our sons will inherit our profession and an expensive hobby to boot, which is too bad because as much as his Gong Gong tried to force the dollar bills into his little hand, Connor would have none of it. I guess that means he won't be going into private practice either.

Benjamin on the other hand will be the son to populate the earth with the descendents of the Shin/Ting tribe. Fitting, if you think about it, given his Old Testament namesake. The little guy was so hungry by the start of his ceremony that he went straight for the steamed rice with gusto.

Finally, sweet little Max, bless his heart, will have the greatest fortune and longevity of the three, having chosen the money and rice noodles -- go Max! I guess Bob and I will need to stay in his good graces with the hope that our youngest will take care of us in our old age, a good thing since we won't have a dime to our name after raising three kids. Who needs retirement plans anyway?

Sticks and Stones

The well-known childhood mantra -- Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me -- is well-meaning, something I have even taught to Connor, but lacking in truth. The reality is that words may often hurt a lot more than any physical injury. This may be why some people say that boys, being more rough and tumble, are often not as cruel as girls, who in the words of a patient of mine, can be downright "wicked" with their words when they want to be.

Having seen the movie Walk the Line this week (a Redbox gem), I have been thinking a lot about the lifelong damage that parents can inadvertently make with callous remarks to their children. In the movie, Johnny Cash (Joaquin Phoenix) is haunted his whole life, and driven to drug abuse, by the belief that he had contributed to his beloved big brother's accidental death. He had left his brother behind at a wood-splitting job when the deadly accident occurred. Into adulthood, he hung onto the accusing words of his father after the accident, "Where have you been?" ... "The Lord took the wrong son!"

I remember vividly remarks in my childhood that must have stuck because they were so hurtful. I was probably less than 10 years old, playing with my mother's lint brush, the kind that scrapes off lint in one direction and is cleaned of lint in the other direction. I thought I was being clever when inspiration hit me to grab one of my velvet tops and one of my mother's and use her lint brush to clean lint off my top while simultaneously transfering the lint onto my mother's top. When my mother walked in the room, I said very proudly, "Mommy, look what I did!". I must have caught her at a particularly bad time, because as she gazed upon her lint-covered top, she said, "You are such a selfish girl!" and stormed out of the room. I stood there perplexed, not even knowing what the word meant, and still remember my poor father coming in to comfort me and try to explain away what she said.

I know Connor, at least, is a sensitive sort, and I wonder how Bob and I can avoid such verbal blows, perhaps we cannot. Once Connor stopped going to his favorite Karate class for a whole month, simply because one of the boys said to him during an exercise that his pose made him "look like a Barbie doll". Connor is like an elephant and doesn't forgive and forget easily. And though Benjamin may be preverbal, he clearly knows what we are saying. So we must beware. Sometimes, even compliments can be misinterpreted. Saying that one child is smart while another is athletic may hurt the one child who is not as academic, or the other who is athletically-challenged. How sensitive our little hearts can be. God help us hold our tongues!

One Fine Day

I'm not a terribly superstitious kind of person, but the signs were undeniable that this will be a good day. I'm wearing my new stretchy-waist feel-like-I'm-wearing-nothing pants, I got a parking space near the garage elevator, and on arrival at the hospital rotunda elevators which is usually the start of a 15 minute painful journey to the 12th floor, there was no one in sight, and the service elevator was waiting for me with an open door, granting me a miraculous non-stop express ride to the top; that just does not happen.

Of course a superstitious person would worry that things were starting just too well today, perhaps fortelling trouble ahead. But like I said, not being a superstitious sort of person, I just may buy that lottery ticket today :)

What Bob Must Feel

My Favorite Things Uncensored

-A dead deer on the side of the road, one less pest in my garden
-Retrieving a big chunk of wax from Connor's ear
-The end of my period
-Passing an obnoxious driver who got stuck in traffic
-Getting away with finishing the last bit of really, really old leftovers without poisoning the family
-Letting it fly with abandon after being uncomfortably bloated in a social setting for a whole evening
-Bringing home cool toiletries from a five-star hotel
-A Wegman's run with a girlfriend in the middle of the work day
-Not being charged extra for soy milk in my latte
-A fantastic find at the Dollar Store or the Redbox at McD's

My Favorite Things

Just wanted to celebrate the Spring in the air with a list of things that make me smile:

-Flowers coming to bloom and new buds on the trees
-New green grass
-News that a Wegmans grocery is coming to town (as good as winning the lottery in my book!)
-A thankful, happy patient
-That first sip of a Starbucks single soy latte in the morning
-Pay day or getting a nice fat check in the mail
-Seeing my bathroom after the cleaners have been through
-Finding a personal letter in my mailbox amongst the bills and junkmail
-Gleeful peals of laughter from any of my kids
-When they eat all their dinner and it's not from a can or Mc-D's
-Watching my parents enjoy their grandchildren at their most charming
-Getting comments on my blogs :)
-Email from friends
-Seeing the boys playing well together
-Sleeping in as a family on a Saturday morning
-Laughing 'til it hurts with Bob over something only we would laugh about
-A newly decorated christmas tree all lit up with a star on top (yes, a bit out of season, but it always makes me smile)
-A "100% Wow!" on Connor's math assessment
-Getting Benji a coveted spot in the toddler library program
-Pulling into a primo parking space at the mall
-A spa facial without the comedone extraction
-Bloomingdales <sigh>

The Method

I have been struggling, really struggling, with my dear middle child, Benjamin, who is in the throes of the terrible twos. As sweet, adorable, and precocious as he is, he can also really challenge the frontal lobes, the only thing holding me back from outright murder. Like tonight, what was meant to be a spontaneous fun outing to Rita's water ice turned out to be a night-out for tinnitus as he nearly blew out our ear drums from screaming in the car for his blankie. This experience led me to brainstorm for better nonviolent means of child control, and it dawned on me.

Like our cat, there is no reasoning with a preverbal two year old. So all you can hope for is finding an annoying yet safe stimulus that can be applied as negative reinforcement for bad behavior. Perhaps such a thing would work for kids.

While people have used newspaper whacking and even electrically charged collars to shock their dogs into submission, I am intrigued by the rapid and foolproof response we had training our cat with a water pistol. Boy, wouldn't that catch em by surprise.

At the first sound of a tantrum, Psssft!! right between the eyes; no more tantrum. And if Connor even dared peep a whine about going to bed, Pssssft!! up you go! Hey, maybe it can work on spouses too --"Hi, Honey, sorry I'm home late agai-Pssssft!"

All in the marketing

Bob asked me to help him design a flyer to advertise for his martial arts class, a filipino martial art involving hand-to-hand combat with edged weapons and bull whip stuff, so I readily offered my opinion. Of course, I thought he might be trying to attract other guys so here was my suggestion -- include the words "Edged Weapons," the latitude and longitudinal coordinates of the class but absolutely no directions or maps, and anime-type images of boobs, legs, whips, and a can of beer. That ought to draw their attention right away.

So Bob gives me this look, his look that he often throws my way, and says, "I'm a guy, I don't need to know that!

So I offered him suggestions to attract girls to the ad. Substitute the words "Self-Defense" for "Weaponry," include a very easy to read set of directions with landmarks, an image of a hunky guy, with a great backside, and a fantastic pair of heels, on the flyer, not the guy.

Perhaps I have missed my calling.

The Usefulness of Man

Connor on death:

"Mommy, do you know that after the daddy and mommy spider have their babies, the daddy spider dies,
because his work is done."

Makes me wonder why we keep em around at all.

Part II

Don't Ask

Don't ask me why I find this hilarious. We Tings just have an unusual sense of humor in a Pearls Before Swine kind of way:

They get what they want

Connor really wanted a Transformer Deceptacon and saw a way to his heart's desire in Gong Gong's wallet. All he had to do was convince his grandfather to take him to the store. The following conversation ensued:
C: Gong gong! Can you buy me a Deceptacon?
G: Hmmm, I'll have to go look around for one this weekend, and I'll bring it Sunday.
C: You can buy them anywhere. They have lots and lots of them at Target, Walmart, Toys R Us...I can show you. Can you take me tomorrow?
G: Tomorrow won't work because I have to take Po Po to a doctor's appointment.
(Connor flips through a Transformers catalogue in disappointed silence, then perks up)
C: Can Po Po drive herself to the doctor's appointment?
G: Well, Po Po doesn't drive well alone.
(Quiet again for a moment in deep thought, he suddenly turns to me with a revelation)
C: Mommy! YOU take Po Po to the doctor's appointment!
There was no resisting the perseverance of a 6-year-old. Needless to say, Connor got his Deceptacon with Gong Gong the very next day.

A thoughtful cup

Sharing a wonderful quote from my Starbucks cup today:

The Way I See It #27
Do not kiss your children so they will kiss you back but so they will kiss their children, and their children’s children.

-- Noah benShea, Poet, philosopher and author of Jacob the Baker, Jacob’s Journey and Remember This My Children.

Spirit Day

Ash Wednesday today and it's like a spirit day for Catholics and orthodox christians, the one time of the year that they can declare, right there on their forehead for all to see, their religious affiliation. Wouldn't it be nice to expand it to everyone, of all religions, on the same day, just like they do at school... Connor has a spirit day where all the kids are supposed to wear to school their extracurricular uniforms -- for scouts, sports, ballet -- to show their friends what they are involved in. I think we should do the same on Ash Wednesday. Everyone picks some standardized symbol for their religion, a tattoo or stamp, to affix to their forehead so there's no more guessing. You'd be able to tell right away whether that coworker in the next cubical over is of the christian persuation, someone who could share in the fellowship. Better yet, it could help JAPs identify eligible Jewish bachelors in their midst. Hindus wouldn't have to go out of their way to find the right stamp that day, just business as usual. The North Koreans could affix a tiny portrait of Kim Il-sung on their heads, or substitute the trident of Satan. Atheists could just use a little extra Botox to smooth out the lines on their empty foreheads. This would generate a real feeling of comraderie and connection that is so absent in our society. Instead, today, I simply feel a pang of jealousy that I don't have a little ash cross on my brow.