shiso mama

Wearing a pomelo hat (courtesy of Fifth Aunt Grandma K) was considered fun in the good ol’ days. Ah, the old country!

Wow, it feels like Thanksgiving was such a long time ago even though the last traces of turkey just left our house today. Hope you had a festive holiday, as we did, with lots of good food and a house full of family/friends (who come in very handy if you’re smart enough to work ahead and plan it so that you can put said people to work wrapping the candy that you give away every year as holiday gifts - ha!).

You know, all this time I’ve been so proud of having a little Asian baby, at least in terms of his diet. Not just Chinese, but really a San Tung baby (where my family is from) since he loves to eat all the food of our people - dumplings of all varieties, whether steamed, boiled, fried, with yeasted dough, cold water dough or hot water dough. But I think this just came to bite me in the butt, since the kid absolutely refused to eat turkey!! In fact, for the next few days, whenever I took out leftovers for myself, he would get slightly panicky and say, “No! No turkey! NOOO turkey!!” I mean, this is a kid who likes to eat lemons, for Pete’s sake! This meal (and the many many meals left over later) are absolutely sacred to me. Boo hoo!

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Another quick story for you, which ties into our recent napping issues at school. Otis and F have been playing this game during their bedtime ritual, where Otis runs his fingertips up F’s arm, pretending to be a spider. And they have some sort of sickeningly cute and funny exchange which only a parent can appreciate. Tonight was this exchange:

Otis: Ooooh! Pider!!
F: Otis! Ask the spider to go to sleep!
Otis: Pider, go to sleep!
Otis (as spider, in deep voice): NOOOO!
F: Uh oh, Otis. The spider said no. What are we going to do?
Otis: Pider, go to sleep! Mama happy!
Otis (as spider): NOOOO!
F: Uh oh, Otis. The spider said no. What do we say?
Otis: Pider, go to sleep! Mama happy!
Otis (as spider): NOOOO!
F: Otis, tell the spider he should go to sleep and when he wakes up, he’ll be happy.
Otis: Pider, go to sleep, wake up happy!
(Spider finally stops moving and starts snoring. Then stirs and wakes up.)
Otis: Pider awake! Happy!

I finally went into the basement and dug out all of Otis’s 3T clothes (I like to buy ahead, especially at sample sales). I’ve been feeling pretty lackluster about getting Otis dressed lately, and I finally realized why - it used to be so much fun to dress Otis up. I mean really dress him up. Like a fun little doll. I mean, remember the tights and thigh high socks? The leg warmers? The ELF HAT? Ah, Fashion Show Sunday was fun in those days. But nowadays, it seems like everything feels so functional and grown up. Not as much fun. Sigh.

I think I can blame school for this. I mean, his school is great for many things like, say, socialization and emotional growth and all that junk, but the kids spend most of their time in activities of their own choice. And for Otis, that usually means sitting in the sandbox, no matter the moisture level of said sand, with a little bit of rolling around in the dirt thrown in for good measure. All of which makes me wonder why I bother anymore. See that nice outfit I dressed him in when we left the house? By the time I picked him up at school this afternoon, he was wearing a dirty old t-shirt, a pair of sweatpants that hinted loudly of the MC Hammer era, no socks, and dirt-encrusted boots on the wrong feet. He was running like a duck.  Maybe home schooling will be the right answer for us. I mean, it seems the only other alternative is to let the kid be a kid, and that can’t possibly be right.

On a related note, we’ve been having this terrible problem where Otis refuses to take a nap at school. We’re OK at home, he’s OK at Grandma R’s, but it’s a no-go at school.  And boy does he need it. We’re stumped. Anyone else experience this?  I’m starting to get desperate.

I couldn’t even remember what number this was, it’s been so long:

Thank you so much, my friends, for all your well wishes and congratulations. It means so much to me that you’re still there, even after the long silence, and the even longer absence of collages. Funny, I don’t really know most of you, yet it was so thrilling to be able to finally tell you. I’m happy to report that I’m actually feeling better! I wouldn’t have believed you before the weekend, but food often actually tastes good again! I’m on less friendly terms with my toilet! And the self-pity, she is on a brief vacation. So, life appears to be all rainbows, puppies and cupcakes. For now, anyways. The pessimism, she NEVER goes on vacation.

How could a kid not love Halloween? Costumes, candy, endless celebrations. Fifth Aunt Grandma K started whispering suggestions in my ear months ago about costumes that I could sew for Otis, but the day I went out and bought a costume, I felt like I could finally breathe again.

It feels like we’ve been celebrating Halloween forever. There was a party at school, with practice trick-or-treating. Then there was a block party over the weekend, with a parade, a potluck, and even two Halloween pinatas, one for the over 5 crowd, the other for the little ones.

The verdict? So much fun, but the over-5 crowd is totally a bunch of cheaters! They all tried to peek from behind their blindfolds or else to hold the pinata with one hand while they whacked it with the other. Does this mean that I only have a couple more years before my baby becomes a punk? When our pinata finally broke, I gave Otis a shove and said, “Get it, baby! Get it!!” And then when he emerged from the pile with two pieces of candy and a huge smile on his face, I grabbed them and said, “Go back! Get more!!” Hmm, maybe punks are made and not born?

Halloween is always tons of fun in our neighborhood. We get huge crowds here. F took Otis out to trick or treat, and they returned with a bag full of sticky candy. Evidently, every time Otis got a piece of candy, he stuffed it, wrapper and all, into his mouth before F would fish it out and stick it into his bag. Now I’m not quite sure what to do with this disgusting mess. Otis eats few sweets and the idea of feeding him this stuff makes me quiver with fear. Do you let your kids eat all their Halloween candy?