That Has To Be The Worst!

Once, when I was a college student, I was hit with a particularly bad case of the stomach flu. It started Friday afternoon and by Saturday evening I couldn't keep anything down. I was so weak and dehydrated my then-boyfriend and I decided to go to the emergency room.

In the waiting room, just watching an old man take a drink of his Coke made the dry heaves come again. After waiting what seemed like three hours but was probably closer to two hours and forty five minutes, the nurse called me back to take my history.

After height, weight and blood pressure she started in with the usual questions.

"Last menstrual period?" she asked raising her eyebrows.

"I am having my period right now," I answered.

Her eyes softened, "Oh you poor girl, stomach flu and your period? That has to be the worst!"

I have a feeling that that must be how Sophie feels right now. On top of a cold that just will not go away, despite several trips to the doctor and several different kinds of medicine, she is also sprouting two new teeth.

Last night was a blur. Hubs had to be out the door this morning before six, so he slept in Bailey's room since Bailey had crashed in our bed earlier. I made it to bed around eleven. Sophie woke up at midnight, her little nose crusted over. The again at 1:30 and 2:15. Then it was Bailey's turn, he complained that his legs hurt so I gave him some Tylenol chewables and a glass of water. Three o'clock and Bailey was tugging on my pajama pants again. I massaged his legs and no sooner had he fallen asleep than Sophie was awake wanting milk. (The medicine she is taking makes her so thirsty!) Everybody was settled and I was just starting to drift off, when I felt something tickle my leg. I kicked at it.

"Ouch," Hubs replied.

I opened one eye.

"I am going now, just wanted to let you know."

"Ok," I whispered, "be careful."

And then, and then two glorious uninterrupted hours of sleep for everybody and the day began....

From The Library

If I were really serious about this blogging thing, I would find a way to move the computer into the bathroom (or should I say toilet room because our shower and tub are in a totally different room?) because that is where I have spent the majority of my last few days. Thanks, stomach flu!

Not that our toilet room isn't nice, mind you. It smells good (usually) and let's not forget the reading material because really where else would you put a book on potty training besides the bathroom?

It was during my time in the library that I took a quiz from the magazine Mother & Baby. Who's the boss? they asked and I answered the challenge. Turns out I am a strict mum. Yikes, that stings a little. A strict mom, can it really be? And then , I read the explanation.

I was nodding my head through the first part- talk about the need for clear boundaries and a firm hand and then the phrase barking orders and I almost choked. Dear god, that was me to a "T". The recommended remedy? Praise, distraction, persuasion and a bit of tickling. Sad to say that tickling has been in short supply around here lately and not just due to the stomach flu.

The last line- Lighten up and your enjoyment of each other will increase.- stuck with me throughout the day and so by the time Bailey came home I was ready.

We made dinner together and I kept my mouth shut instead of ordering him out of the kitchen when he spilled something. We simply cleaned it up together. No tears were shed. No hurt feelings. This might just work.

Being a parent means picking your battles. There is a time to stand firm. A time to let go. A time to try another tactic. Trying another tactic seems the best for all of us right now.

Somewhere, Super Nanny Is Watching, Laughing

I feel like I am stuck in a bad episode of Super Nanny.

Could it be the episode with the out of control tantrums?

Could it be the episode with the five year old that still uses a pacifier at night?

No, I have lived through the tantrums and the pacifier withdrawal. Those I could handle.

No, this episode finds the Yonekura household plunged into the harsh, cold reality of life with a jack-in-the-box. You know the type. Out of bed every few minutes for an hour or more with a whole lists of wants and needs and you-gotta-hear-this-right-now-before-I-forgets.

I am sequestered in the catch all/ computer room, waiting and trying not to lose my temper. The last thing we need right now while Sophie is sleeping so peacefully, so quietly is shouting and tears.

I wanna poke my head around the corner. I wanna open his bedroom door, but I am afraid of what I will find. At least, for now, he is in his room and quiet. Simple math, or is it wishful thinking?, tells me that :
In his room (plus) quiet (equals) sleep.

Now, how long do I have before his cold feet find their way into my bed ?

Concerning Concerns

There is no short supply of advice/concern for my MIL where the kids are concerned. In the few short hours I was with her today she pointed out the following:

*Bailey really shouldn't be sleeping in his own room by himself until his is at least in elementary school.

*I might want to think about cutting back on what Sophie eats because her legs are a little too chubby.

*We all need more fish and less french fries.

*Bailey runs kinda funny for a boy, you might want to have that checked out.

*How come Sophie isn't crawling yet?

And the list could go on and on, but just thinking about it makes me all anxious. My kids are happy and healthy. I appreciate her concern, but sometimes it is a bit overwhelming.

My SIL and I maintain that the best thing to do is just smile and nod.

Don't Rush It

I was getting a little impatient. It was the fourth time Bailey had called me back to his room.

The first time, he asked, "Is this blanket clean? It smells good."
"Yes, it is. Good night."

The second time he asked for another blanket.

The third time he asked me to take one of the blankets off.

The fourth time, I was starting to think that this might be nature's way of telling me I needed more exercise. Back and forth from the living room to Bailey's room and from Bailey's room to the living room.

"What is it now," I snapped.

He mumbled something.

"What? I can't hear you," I said my voice getting louder by the second.

Louder this time, but the words weren't clear.

"Good night, Bailey," I said and turned to close the door.

"You didn't say love you," I heard the sadness in his voice.

I lay down beside him, pulled him close and kissed his forehead. "Love you, Bailey."

"Love you, Mommy."

Bonds

These two were inseparable today. Sophie wanted to be where Bailey was and Bailey wanted to be where Sophie was- at all times. They played together, watched a children's show together, ate breakfast together and when we walked Bailey to school instead of holding my hand, he wanted to hold Sophie's as she sat in the stroller.

Tonight, after their baths, Sophie was so fussy and kept pushing away her bottle and crying. I thought that she must of been full from dinner and so I put her in the crib. I hadn't even closed the door yet when she started crying.

I felt Bailey tug on my shirt, "Sophie said her stomach hurts."

"What should we do?" I asked him.

"Like this," he said rubbing circles on his tummy.

Thinking I could at least give it a try, I opened the bedroom door and reached between the crib rails to rub Sophie's stomach. She burped and passed gas (gosh, that was hard deciding what to write there- I went from pooted to farted to broke wind and back again!!) and then drank the whole bottle and went right to sleep without any fuss.

Next time I am not sure what to do, I will just ask Bailey.

Night Owl

When Hubs is gone, I leave the light above the stove on. I don't know why, I just do. Little did I know that that light would attract a little, buzzing Bailey bug.
::::::::::::::::::::

I heard something. I waited. There it was again, coming from the living room. I struggled to find my cell phone and flipped it open. 1:58 am.

Pushing the covers off, my feet touched the cold wooden floor and I heard a door open and close. Great, just great.

I opened my door and ran smack dab into....... Bailey.

"Mommy," he said, taking my hand, "Let's play blocks."

"Bailey, it is way too early to get up," I said steering him toward the bathroom.

"Can I sleep with you?"

"Ok," I said, "But you have to be quiet. Sophie is asleep."

After he finished up in the bathroom, I got him settled in bed beside me. He fell asleep holding my hand.

Fresh Air

How can you tell if someone is growing up? Witness:

Me: You can sleep in tomorrow. I will take the kids to the park or something.
Hubs: No, I want to go to the park too!
(A wish to revert to childhood?)
Me: Really, it is no problem.
Hubs: But it is the only time I really have to spend with them.
(Sleep used to always win. Do I sense a change here?)
Me: Ok, if you are sure.
Hubs: Yap! They still take naps don't they?
Me: Sure.
Hubs: Good, good, good.

Highly Recommended

Step one: Leave the kids with someone you trust.

Step two: Sit in a darkened movie theater and hold hands. Fall in love all over again.

Step three: Have a nice lunch at a place where the the napkins aren't paper and the glasses aren't plastic.

Step four: Remember happy daddy plus happy mommy equals happy kids!!

Look Away

If you see me in the grocery store and Bailey is yelling, "Ouch, ouch!!" and Sophie is honing her new found screeching skill, please look away. I don't think I could stand another sad shake of the head or demeaning roll of the eyes. After all, the kids and I are just learning together. One stumbling block at a time.

Farewell Friend!

Rocks, a few trading cards, a string, a package of pocket tissues and a stuffed big bird fell out onto the table when I turned Bailey's bag upside down and shook it.

"Hey, Bailey," I said sitting him on my knee, "Let's clean out your school bag."

He quickly grabbed up the rocks and string and said, "Bailey wants these."

"Ok, then how about these cards?"

He looked down at the Thomas cards- one torn, one bent and the other had gotten wet and was coming apart and decided to throw them away.

"Next, pocket tissues."

"Bailey's nose runs," he said stuffing them back into his bag.

Without thinking I put Big Bird back into the bag. Of course he would want it. I remember his first day at school and how after I had convinced him to let go of my hand, he clenched Big Bird around the neck. His security. His lovey.

"No," Bailey said as he took Big Bird out of his bag, "Bailey big boy. No Big Bird."

"Are you sure?" I asked, not wanting to believe that he was ready to leave Big Bird behind. It would mean that he felt comfortable being without me. That he didn't need that little reminder of home.

"OK," he said, zipping up his bag. Before I could respond he was down the hall and putting on his socks and shoes.

Bittersweet.

Multicolored Butterfly

"Come on, Bailey, let's go," I said waving good bye to his day care mates and the teachers.

"Mommy, no English, please. My ears hurt," came Bailey's reply like a thousand needles right to my heart.

I can understand how he feels. He wants to fit in. He wants to have friends. He wants to play and have fun. These are all great, wonderful things. I just don't want him to forget the "English side" of him too.

When he first started going to daycare, one of the teachers pulled me aside and said, "Do you always speak English to Bailey?"

"Yes, I guess so," was my reply.

"That's not really a good idea," she shook her head, "He needs Japanese more than English."

At that exact moment it occurred to me that cultural sensitivity wasn't part of her training. It mad me mad to hear, but more than that it made me sad. As the saying in Japan goes, the nail that sticks up gets hammered down.

It is hard to maintain your own cultural identity when you live in a foreign country. As hard as I try to pass on traditions like trick or treating, Easter egg hunts, the real meaning of Christmas, it all just seems to get swallowed up and mutated to the Japanese way. This is something I have never gotten used to.

I have never gotten used to the idea of Christmas being solely about presents. I have never gotten used to the idea of such a strong group mentality. I have never gotten used to being criticized for doing it the "American way".

I am sad but I am soldiering on with plans for a Halloween party for Bailey's day care- the "American way" with bobbing for apples and treat bags and costumes. Hopefully, someday English won't hurt Bailey's ears as much and he will be proud of the fact that he is unique. Someday my caterpillar will emerge from his cocoon a beautiful, multicolored butterfly.

Without Rain, There Would Be No Rainbows

This morning as Bailey lay kicking and screaming on the floor because I refused to give him gummy worms for breakfast, I wondered how much longer we could both stand it. I was tired of listening to it after fifteen minutes and he had started screaming more and crying less.

When did this happen? When did he transition from sweet, smiling, happy little boy to a temper tantrum thrower at the drop of a hat little boy. His way or nothing at all. Gosh, I am beginning to feel that I am not cut out for this.

Why does he not listen? Why is he so stubborn?

Then it occurs to me- he is just like me. And when we clash, it is horrible. The worst kind of storm with thunder and lightning and high winds. But, when it is over, after all the mess has been cleaned up and the rain has stopped, his voice so soft, so gentle, so broken by tears. "I'm sorry Mommy."

Then, when I pull him close and he lets the last few tears fall, the rainbow appears. This is how I know the true reason behind his tears. What that little two year old boy can not say. Mommy, love me most when I deserve it least.

Nothing Better

At the end of a long day filled with tissues, runny noses, orange juice, soup and cold medicine, there is nothing better than the weight of your baby in your arms as you rock. The breath that tickles your neck as they curl a little closer. The rubbing of tired eyes. Breathing in their sweet baby smell. Nothing better. Even if your baby is almost three years old and hard to hold being all arms and legs. Even if you both smell like Vicks and even if he uses your pajama top as a hankie. Nothing better. Being a mom, getting to watch the little ones grow and change. Laughter, tears, smiles, frowns. Nothing better.

Pass It On

Bailey will be participating in a sports festival or field day or whatever you want to call it this Sunday and the day care asked parents to help out with making some of the decorations. I packed up a few toys for Sophie and we headed out.

A few other moms were there and my job was to paint plastic bottles yellow. There were beans inside of the bottles, so I guess they are going to be used as some kind of musical instrument or noisemaker. I had just finished my fifth when one of the teachers hurried over and crouched down beside me.

"Bailey has a fever. You should go now," she said.

I washed my hands, gathered up our things and went to pick Bailey up. Sure enough, he was on fire and had a cough and runny nose. I debated whether or not to take him to the doctor and decided just to use some OTC stuff we had. Sometimes a good night's rest is all you need and he wasn't grouchy, whiny and clingy like he usually is when he is sick.

A little dinner, a little medicine and Bailey was in bed by 7:30. He slept through the night and I thought all was well. When I woke up my throat was a little scratchy and my voice was breaking. Looks like Bailey passed it on to me. Lucky Mom!!

I Wanna Be An Octopus When I Grow Up

There are certain times in your life when things just seem to click. Certain times when the light bulb comes on and you think to yourself this is what it is really about. Today was such a day.

Certain parts of potty training have pretty much been mastered. Other parts take a team to ensure success. The problem being that Bailey doesn't like to sit still unless he is asleep or eating. So, if a bathroom session involves more than a tinkle, he feels the urge to share the experience or he will quite simply get off the potty, put his underwear back on, do his business and then bring the dirty underwear to me. (Yes, I know this is an awful lot of detail, but I feel the need to share with you the madness that is potty training.)

As he sat there on the potty with Mommy reading a Thomas book; waiting, listening, hoping, Sophie let's us know it is time for milk. Just a few more minutes, I think, then he will be done and I can feed Sophie. But the minutes tick past and still nothing. Sophie's crying escalates. I get up to go check on her.

"Mommy, moooooooommmmmmyyyyyyyy," Bailey wails as I make milk. He is attempting a dismount. Oh dear god, please don't let him dismount. I snatch up Sophie and head for the bathroom. Just in time, one leg stretching, straining to touch the floor, but not quite. A little push from me and he is squarely back on the potty. Sitting on the floor with Sophie happily eating, trying to turn the pages of the Thomas book as Bailey takes care of business, I realize, this just might be my defining moment.

Multitasking. That is how you know you are truly a mother.

In Celebration Of Labor Day

(Note: As I wandered around Blogland, I noticed lots of people wishing their readers a happy holiday weekend. And I thought and I thought some more. Not one of the big ones, I know that for sure. And then it hit me, LABOR DAY WEEKEND. Yes, that's what it is. Think I have been in Japan too long?!?)

In honor of LABOR DAY (or in Hubs' case over-labor day) both kids went to daycare, so Hubs and I could enjoy a little time together. We had a nice lunch at the Hard Rock Cafe (where I picked up t-shirts for the kids) and then headed to one of our favorite places- the bookstore (where I picked up a book or two for the kids). Then it was to the grocery store where we could actually read labels and think before just throwing it into the cart (and I picked up Bailey's favorite juice and rice crackers for Sophie).

Ever notice how those little ones follow you around even when they aren't there?

Pondering.....

I like to ponder things.

Why did Bailey throw up three times last night and then wake up totally fine this morning?
Why does Sophie wake up from her nap the minute I decide to finally go take a shower?
Why does Hubs always, always leave the knob turned to shower instead of faucet?

And my best pondering takes place in the shower. It is pretty much the only time I have complete privacy (except for little hands banging on the door for more juice or to show me something that just can't wait) and a good time to collect my thoughts.

This morning, in between shampoo and conditioner I pondered this post. It has been weighing heavy on my mind since I wrote it, but I just couldn't figure out why. Was it because I didn't try to talk her out of it? Was it because I feel that in some way I helped to kill that little baby? Was it because I am a mother myself now and see things differently than my college self did so many years ago?

I have shared the story with very few people and I thought that it was out of respect for my friend's privacy. I felt that it wasn't my story to tell. But I told it and in a place where anybody could read it. My husband doesn't even know the story and I told it here. Why?

I had debated whether to even tell the story in the first place and had set my mind on a totally different subject entirely. Then, when I sat down to type out it came. It needed to be told. It needed to be dealt with.

I remember being pregnant with Sophie and there was some bleeding. I remember praying to God, promising I would do anything if he would just help me keep this baby alive. Then there were problems with blood pressure and the words of the doctor etched forever on my heart and soul, "If we can't bring your blood pressure down, we will have to abort."

The words caused me to choke. My body went cold. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

That evening, in the shower, I feel to my knees and prayed for that tiny life inside of me. The warm water mixed with my own salty tears and I gave it over to God's Will. I kept repeating, "That which does not kill you, makes you stronger."

Now, when I look at my kids, I know that because of them my heart and my world has changed. Because of them, I know the value of life and the value of being the best mother you can.

Would I help a friend end an unwanted pregnancy again? I am not so sure. I still believe in a woman's right to choose, but becoming a mother has made me cherish, respect and value life more than ever before. I am not that same college kid. I am a mother, a wife and that changes everything.

What's Cooking?

I don't mind cooking. Actually, I like to cook. I remember when we were first married I would spend hours pouring over recipes, making weekly menus, grocery shopping, chopping and dicing.

Then came the kids and I had to simplify. Lately, it seems like I make the same ten things- pasta, sweet and sour pork, stew, Japanese style noodles, curry, baked fish, fried rice, ginger pork and some type of chicken. My family surely doesn' t go hungry but a little variety certainly wouldn't kill us either. Then I saw this over at A Little About Us and this from Tammy, Mrs. Kentucky girl herself and super great ideas from Five Ingredient Friday hosted by Overwhelmed with Joy and I think I am gonna try a few new things, step outside the box and tempt our tastebuds with something different.

Now, if I could just get that knife out of Bailey's hand.......