Today has been a day of days. At least the morning has.
I've had very little sleep, primarily becasue my oldest son has been sick the last day or so. He;s been running a fever probably from a cold. WE've been judiciously dosing him with Motrin to help keep the fever down, but last night he refused to take it. He was irritable and kept swinging between wanting to take it and not wanting to. This in turn led to very little sleep. Parents of three year olds know this as a fact of life. It it always some kind of dichotomy that drives these youngsters. Finally around 12:30am he took his medicine and within 20 minutes his fever had dropped 2 degrees, which made my wife and I feel better.

But that was just the start.
Around 6:45am or so I recieve a call from my wife and she's had a blowout on the way to work. Today is my late day at work so I don'thave to be there until 11am. So much for my morning.
Truth be told it's not been all bad. The tire place was just up the street and they opened at 8am, the tow was there by 8:40 and they just called and let me know that the work was done. It is now 9:20am. All in all, not too bad, even for an inauspiscious day. I may be able to salvage something from this, but I'm not sure.

I guess we'll have to see.

I call my father every weekend. It's a habit. Something I just got used to doing when my mother was still alive. She would always say, "Don't forget to call your father," almost as if she knew she would not always be there to make sure. I don't suppose there was any foresight involved. She just knew that there was a good possibility that with her health, that he would be around after she was gone. She was right. Still I make the call now more than ever to make sure that things are going alright for him. It doesn't seem like much, but it connects us as a family. And since he is a hundred miles away and the economic times make it more difficult to get up to see him, these phone calls are now more important than ever. I give him an update on how the week went, tell him of the recent adventures of the boys, and get the update on how his week went. It's a habit... and a good one at that.

I guess I get a few more habits from my mother. I learned the value of thrifiness. Not everything that my mother was thrify at, that would be extreme. Rather, I learned that for a little bit of money, you can eat well, and quickly, when you get home from work tired and not wanting to spend hours in front of the stove. You buy in bulk, take a little bit of time on the weekend, and prepare things so that when you are in that somnolent state, you have a range of things that you can do in order to get dinner up quickly without a fuss. I precook cubed chicken and ground beef in family size portions and freeze them so that they can be thawed and used as recipe ingredients. I set up full courses so that they can be frozen and used without having to put it all together. I fill my freezer full of dinner ideas so that my wife and I don't have to think to make meals. It's a habit.

I learned to do without so that I can have later. The big-ticket items that are so in vogue right now don't need to be gotten if you have a servicable alternative right now. Take my TV. I bought a 27" CRT TV about 3 years ago to replace the old one that had died. It's not as great as the LCDs that can be bought nowadays for about the same price as I paid, but it works and it does exactly what I need. I see people going out an buying that 47" LCD to watch the big games and I sometimes wonder what I'm missing. Then I look at my family and my bank accounts and I know that when the time comes, I can get the food and clothes that my family needs, or the car repair that just can't wait. I know I did the right thing. It's a habit.

I look at my family and see my two sons and my wonderful wife. I know that they are going to remember everything about their lives with me. I look at my father and I know that he remembers what life was like with my mother. And I remember my mother if in a good light, and see all that she taught me. I need to do everything I can to make it as good for my family as she made it for her family. To make sure that they have good memories too. I don't know what the future holds, but I know that for right now I'm doing everything right so that we have a future...

It's a habit, I suppose...

My oldest son is a character. Not just in the way that he acts, he is three after all, but also in what says. He speaks clearly for a 3 year old, more so than most 5 year olds I've dealt with. I watch other kids his age stumble through the pidgin-english stage learning new words. My son? Full sentences when he REALLY wants something.

"Daddy I want a treat..."
"That's not very polite, Michael"
"Please, daddy..."
"Can I get it all together?"
"Daddy, I want a treat, please"

Now I know I'm not alone in this particular phase. There are probably a lot of 3 year olds who talk as well, but not in his immediate peer group. And that's why I'm a proud poppa...

But back to the subject at hand. My son is a character. New Year's Day he went hellbent on no naps. We tried. Mickey (Mouse) on the VCR upstairs in "mommy&daddy's room," a comfy pillow, pretty much everything that one can think of. No go. Well, we figured, at least he'll sleep well... we had NO idea.

My wife and I were too tired to clean up after Christmas, so the dining room table had the remnants of decorations and gifts piled on top. We decided that it wouldn't be too bad to take dinner in the living room. My son would have the coffee table, my wife, the recliner (with our youngest and his meal), and myself on the couch in front of the computer. Michael decided that chicken nuggets with "red sauce" (ketchup) were his preferred meal. I nuked 5 for him and poured a splash in a ramekin and set him up. About 20 minutes in the meal, after many gustatory comments from my son, it went eerily quiet. My wife quietly got my attention and pointed to a sight that made me just want to bust out laughing.
[see the picture, you just HAVE to!]



This was the sight that we beheld staring down at that little body lying on the carpet. It was literally up one minute, down the next. My wife just saw the fork, and that's what had her going. It wasn't until I snapped my third picture of future blackmail shots that I noticed the other hand. That is what really had us laughing. He fell asleep eating the nugget... Now I know it's not safe to fall asleep with a fork in your hand and we didn't leave it there any longer than it took to snap the pictures, but it was too classic. He did manage to sleep the rest of the night and didn't really remember falling asleep eating, but he did remember dinner, and I guess that is something...

This isn't the first instance of him falling asleep eating, he did so when he was much younger and skipping naps and all, but this is the first time he's gone from 100 to 0 in just a few short moments...

I guess I'm saying that kids will be kids, and you just never know what's going to happen. I'd love to say that his owner's manual warned us of this, but I guess it's still in the mail... 3 years later...

Just some tidbits o'ken...

Hope you had a Merry Christmas.
Notice the dichotomy in the title and first sentence? I believe strongly that one should celebrate the holidays as one knows best. Political correctness aside, I will say Happy Holidays but personally I mean Merry Christmas simply because I'm not Jewish, don't celebrate Kwanzaa at home, and I certainly don't ring in the holidays like most Asian countries. Still it is the holiday season, and as such we tend toward those sayings that come most familiar.

My mother was Japanese. It didn't mean that we spent the holidays "cleaning the old year away to start fresh in the new year." This is a very Japanese custom. My mother was in her own way stuck between 2 cultures and she didn't care. She wanted her family to be very American in appearance as this was her adopted nation. She still bought omochi (a sticky rice-cake) and prepared a few other Japanese delicacies around the holiday season, because, as I mention above, it was what she knew best. But she baked Christmas cookies, particularly those from Switzerland ( Mailänderli , a kind of shortbread cookie) as that is where my father grew up, and did the tree and the presents for us kids. It was the person that she was.

My children will grow up cross-cultural if I can help it, but they won't know it until they are older. I still have many things that I do, that are based on my parents and growing up. I take off my shoes upon entering a house. Not because they are dirty, but it was the way I was raised. I must admit it does keep the carpet cleaner. My oldest son is consistantly told to remove his shoes after coming home from daycare. He does it without much thought anymore, but we still remind him. He refers to my father as Ojii-chan (Japanese for Grandfather) as this is how we referred to my parents (my mother was Obaa-chan, or Grandmother). This was more for differentiation than anything else. When you have 3 sets of grandparents (my wife's parents are divorced), you have to distinguish them when your children are at a young age so that they don't get too confused. My mother started the Obaa-chan custom, my wife's mother was Grandma, and her step-mother is Nana. It integrated pretty well with my oldest and he knows who we are talking about when we refer to them as such. He changes them around, but he knows better now. My youngest is starting to get to know the names now...

This is the first major holiday season without my mother. I'd like to say that I weathered it well, but I'd be lying. There were some things that just couldn't be avoided. My brother baked the Christmas cookies this year. Next year will be my turn. He managed to acquire the cookie presses that my mother bought long ago to do the Mailänderli. I'll get them from him next year. We have an Angel, Santa, a Christmas tree, and a snowman. My mother would make the dough, press out the cookies and take a straw and make a hole near the top. She would then frost the cookies in good colors, cover them in plastic wrap making sure that there was a ribbon in the top hole, and distribute the edible ornaments to friends and family. It wasn't the same... I think that next year I'll be crying into the dough and frosting, but I expect that...

My mother was an artist at heart, and I think that this is where I get my mad skillz [grin]. My brother complained that it took so much time and effort to get them done. I suppose he may be right, but he also does other things at Christmas, such as home-made English toffee. I did 3 dozen Mailänderli last year and frosted them in about 4 hours, assembly-line fashion. While my back and neck were a little sore, I felt a deep satisfaction at the looks and compliments that I got for doing it. A tribute to my mother I guess. Next year, I'm going to outdo myself with the coloring, and I think that she'll be proud. Her cookie presses are a good deal bigger than mine. I'd better start in October...

In closing, parents, don't be too worried that your kids are being commercialized by the holidays. Unless they grow up in a remote corner of the world with no access to modern conveniences it's bound to happen. And if you think that they get too many gifts, blame family. You have no control over that. Just make sure that they appreciate what they do get, and what they have. That's the most important thing in this case. As for how to celebrate the holidays... take a tip from my mother: The best way that you want and know how to...

Just a little tidbit o'ken...

My sons are a very big part of my life, from the time I wake up (or get woken up as the case most often is), until the time I go to bed (which is usually in the chair in my older son's room).

Most children sleep until 8 or 9 in the morning maybe take a nap midday and are asleep by 8 pm latest. I don't believe that my older son is a normal sleeper, but we're not what America considers a "traditional" family. Normal by current American definition, but not traditional. Both my wife and I work earlier in the day, this means that we are up and around by 5:30am, which is probably why my son is able to be up and alert that early in the morning. I suppose it IS normal for him. When he finally decides to go down at night, it can be as early as 7:30pm and as late as 9:30pm. Most of the time it is about 8:30pm. I guess that makes it look normal. His naps are steady during the week when he is at daycare. He gets about 2-3 hours midday... at daycare. On the weekends we're lucky if we get an hour or so out of him. When we don't, he goes to sleep a little earlier, but that doesn't happen often. A more likely scenario is that he takes a nap at around 2 or 3 and wakes up around 5 or 6. This sets up for the fact that he doesn't want to go to bed around 8pm... which is why daddy falls asleep in the chair while older boy sleeps in his bed.

This brings up a funny situation... one that I'm sure will be repeated again. My son fell asleep at 4:30pm coming back from gramma's house. I carried him into his bed and let him sleep, figuring that he'd sleep all night. He's done it before. At 9:45pm he comes into our room, awake and wanting a story. I read one (Clifford, the Big Red Dog), get him a glass of water (on the edge of our bed) and walked him back to his room to go back to sleep. He settled in, as did I, and we both started to sleep. I vaguely remember him getting out of bed and coming to see me. When I next saw the clock it was 1:30am and as I got out of the chair my son was nowhere to be found. I went into my bedroom and there, on my side of the bed, he'd fallen asleep, probably not long after I dozed off. Stinker had decided that "mommy&daddy's" bed was the place to be and daddy could well just stay in his room. I now make sure that I try to stay awake until I'm sure he's down for the count... not that I'm sure that I'll stay awake, but I'm going to try.