Monthly Archives: April 2024

Toddler carousel time: the Instagram “experience” vs. the real experience

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I had read about the magical SeaGlass Carousel downtown at Battery Park, how all the glittering animals were from the sea and how glorious the carousel looked just at dusk when all the colorful lights came on. It looked like this picture-perfect Instagram photo op for parents with young children. Given how early Kaia’s bedtime is, I figured we’d wait until she was a bit older to get on this carousel during the evening time. A closer carousel option for daytime would be the one at Central Park, and so today, we went with her school bestie and his parents there for one last playdate before their big move to a Jersey suburb.

Her classmate’s parent suggested we get at least 2-3 tickets each (one per rider, including the adult) because the kids would likely want more than a single ride. I watched Kaia as she observed the carousel go round and round, so I thought she’d enjoy it once we were on. But… how wrong I was. As soon as we got on with her friend and his parent, it was total hell: I tried to get her on a horse, but she screamed that she didn’t want to go on and screamed and cried endless tears for the entire duration of the first ride. Chris and her bestie’s mom were observing, and they wondered if the crying child was Kaia… and yes, they were right. Chris captured a bit of the screaming on video, just to “document” the first carousel ride experience, and I was completely worn out after just one ride of having Kaia scream in my ear and battle me to get off the moving carousel.

The second ride was a lot better: Chris came on board and judiciously chose to have Kaia sit on the chariot with the friend and parent. She happily got on and got off when the carousel stopped. Then, the third and final ride was with me again. She was happy for the entire ride, once again in the chariot, but when it was time to get off, she absolutely did NOT want to get off. And she screamed and yelled that she didn’t want to get off this time. I literally had to drag her off. The operators gave me sympathetic looks as I got off and thanked them.

“I should have warned you ahead of time that the first ride would be brutal,” her bestie’s dad told me. “The first ride, they scream and cry bloody murder and hate every second. Then, the second ride, they have fun. The third ride, they love it so much that they refuse to get off. It’s like a textbook experience, ride by ride. Kaia is the same as Jacob.”

Welp. It goes without saying that we did not capture any good photos during these carousel rides. But hey, maybe in a couple years, we’ll do better?

Corelle: my preferred dinnerware in my 30s

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When I was a young child, I used to have (very riveting) fantasies about the future fancy china I would own. I wasn’t sure if it would be English or Japanese or Chinese, but I did know that they would be handcrafted, in some cases hand-painted, and very beautiful to look at. Back then, I never thought about important things that adults would usually think about when making a big ticket purchase on something like dinnerware… such as, is it durable? Is it dishwasher-safe (most bone or fine china absolutely are not)? If I knock it against another dish, will it be quick to chip? So when I finally became an adult and actually looked at how much these things cost (a lot) and how durable they are (not very much — AT ALL), I started rethinking how important a beautiful, fancy set of dinnerware really was to me. And I got to this point where I realized that I would rather spend more money on better ingredients for the food I put into my and my family’s bodies than invest thousands of dollars on a bunch of plates and bowls… that my child would likely break someday sooner than I’d like, or (gasp) I myself would break because of general wear and tear and the occasional clumsiness.

I had moments when I was in Taiwan, salivating over some beautiful hand thrown pottery that was hand painted (most definitely not dishwasher safe. And if I remember the price, a single tea cup from that set was around $80-100 USD). The tea sets and teeny tiny serving bowls and plates in Japan enamored me both times we visited, but both visits, I knew I was never going to buy any — they were merely eye candy. Then, when we were in Portugal, which is world renowned for beautifully crafted ceramics and tiles, I gazed longingly at all the shiny azulejo ceramic bowls and plates, all hand painted. And while the prices for ceramics in Portugal were relatively reasonable, nowhere as frightening as they were in Taiwan or Japan, I just thought of the hassle of carting them back to the U.S. (not to mention the luggage space they’d require, plus the anxiety I would have at them potentially breaking en route), and I quickly decided – nope — not coming home with us.

Now in my 30s and as a parent, I’m a lot more pragmatic about dinnerware. Sure, I want the dinnerware we have to look good, but I’m more focused on cost, durability, and the ability wash them in a dishwasher. And that’s when the oldie-but-goodie Corelle comes in: it’s what I grew up with (along with many other practical Asian families), and it’s so durable to the point where if you drop them, they may not even break! They’re all dishwasher safe! They don’t scratch or get bent up easily! They’re well-priced! And they’re very lightweight, so if you’re suffering from even temporary carpal tunnel, you will still be able to hold them and carry them to the table! They basically tick all the boxes. So when we returned a holiday gift back to Amazon in January and I remembered I wanted to replace two of our broken bowls from last year, I didn’t even hesitate: I immediately did a search for “Corelle bowls,” and I found a simple white bowl in the size I wanted. It was six bowls for $24 — where else are you going to get a deal like that…?! I ordered them, and I never looked back.

The oldies are oldies for a reason — they are goodies.

“Turn this way”

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Two nights ago, it took almost 2.5 hours after story time to get Kaia to fully fall asleep. I was nearly at my wit’s end, but had to keep taking deep breaths and reminding myself, this is just a phase. This, too, will pass. And one day, she will not be so little anymore. But in the meantime, it was kind of hard to get mad at her because she constantly insisted on cuddling, hugging, and poking my face and nose. And every time I tried to face my back to her, she would pull my shoulder towards her and say, “turn this way.” It was almost as though she’d gone through this same exercise with a classmate at school during nap time and wanted to now test it out on her mama!

She finally fell asleep. And when I emerged from her bedroom to find Chris on his computer on the couch, he said to me, “That’s what the three muffins did to her. They gave her too much energy!”

I had just baked a new variation of my apple banana carrot mini muffins for her — they had three types of flour (all-purpose, whole wheat, and spelt), two types of seeds (ground flaxseed and whole toasted sunflower seeds), and of course, three types of fruit and veggie (apple, banana, and carrot). They came out very bouncy and moist, with just enough sweetness to be tasty and healthy at the same time. While I’m happy she enjoyed them, next time, she only gets them during the day time and not before bed!

Rancho Gordo heirloom beans delivery

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I first read about heirloom beans during the height of the pandemic. The sale of dried beans in general had gone up once the pandemic and lockdown were in full force in early 2020. People were looking for pantry items that could not only last a long time, but were also economical. At that time, I never thought much about dried beans or beans in general, though I did eat and cook them. I never thought about how they were grown, dried, or packaged up for selling. I didn’t think about their shelf life since when I thought about dried beans, I just thought they’d last forever in my pantry. Most of the time when I got them, I would buy bags of dried beans (since they’re cheaper, healthier, and taste better), plus the occasional can or two as emergency supplies. Beans in the U.S. have always had an association as “poor people food,” or the food that you eat when you don’t have much money. The saddest thing about that association is that beans are not only one of the tastiest things you can eat, but they are probably one of the healthiest things you can consume. There are endless varieties of beans, from big fat cannellini beans to teeny tiny varieties of lentils (dal) in colors of the rainbow. To say that you don’t like beans at all is like saying you don’t like any pasta, any rice, any fruit, or any vegetable — it’s absurd and likely ignorant. And I found out another fun fact about beans: they are also great candidates to aid in crop rotation, as they are able to replenish nutrients in soil. So, they would be perfect to plant in between seasons for other fruits/veggies!

Rancho Gordo aimed to change the image of beans as a cheap food. They wanted to highlight how rich and complex beans can taste, and also aimed to get dried beans even fresher to you (less than two years from picking). They also wanted you to discover the sheer variety of beans from all over the world and how amazing it all could be. Rancho Gordo even has an heirloom bean club that literally has tens of thousands of people on the wait list (including me, annoyingly enough). I was on the wait list for a while and finally came to terms that I was likely never getting off this stupid wait list, so I finally went on their website last week to order several pounds of different varieties and see what the hype was all about. I just got my order yesterday, and I’ve never been more excited to cook beans. I have Christmas lima beans, “Marcella” white beans (literally named after Marcella Hazen for the cannellini-like beans that she said were her favorite from Italy); I also got these interesting ones called Jacob’s cattle bean, which are a bespeckled white and red bean that would serve well in a baked beans application.

I think beans are our future, so I’m all for looking for new ways to cook with beans, as well as more types of beans to cook with!

Independent toy store experience

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While my friend was visiting last month, she popped into a cute independent toy shop in Chelsea and bought Kaia some gifts. One of the gifts was a stuffed rabbit, which, while sweet and cute and incredibly soft, was not something that I thought Kaia needed more of; she has endless stuffed animals, and only a select few that she has any amount of attachment to. So I was grateful that my friend was thoughtful enough to provide a gift receipt. I went downtown to exchange the rabbit for something else. When I entered the shop, I was not only surprised to see how large the shop was, but just the sheer variety of toys and books for so many ages. And it suddenly dawned on me that I had never really been in any toy store for years, much less an independent one. This toy store was most definitely a rarity in today’s day and age.

Most of the purchases we do are online now; it’s the way most of us live and operate. With online shopping being so readily available and Amazon providing so much convenience with a few clicks to purchase (plus free shipping with Prime, or a relatively low minimum for free shipping), it’s just too easy. But as I was perusing all the endless options in the shop yesterday and spending way more time than I’d originally imagined going through potential options, I realized how much value is lost with online shopping; you don’t get to actually see, touch, feel, even hold items in your hand. When you buy a pair of earrings online, they can seem sparkly and pretty… until you receive them in the mail and the gemstones are so tiny that you can barely see them; plus, the size seems almost half of what they looked like on the model’s ear in the online photo you viewed. The same goes with toys: the concept of something like a wooden tea time play set may seem fun (and sustainable); but then you get it delivered, and it seems like flimsy garbage that might give your toddler splinters. There are some things that are definitely better purchased after seeing it in person.

I ended up replacing the stuffed rabbit with a wooden coffee maker play set of the same value (I will never get over how expensive good quality stuffed animals can be!!). I thought it would be a good complement to the cooking/dining play set that I recently got for Kaia from our local Buy Nothing group; she really loves that set and “cooking with mummy.” She played with the coffee set a bit tonight and seems to already enjoy it. At this age and stage of development, there’s a lot of value in “pretend play,” and I hope that these toys can help broaden Pookster’s imagination.

When toddlers intervene when their parents are fighting

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 I think it goes without saying that all couples fight. Therefore, it would also be true that all parents fight. Sometimes, the fights are about substantial matters, like what path forward to move your child into, money, career, etc. Other times, they’re about a whole lot of nothing. In our cases, it’s usually about a misinterpretation over something said/insinuated, or about the method of arguing in itself. Chris likes to assume he’s always right, and he gets extremely defensive when I point out something he does that I don’t like or disagree with. I tell him that he needs to stop for a moment and actually think about what I’m critiquing about him instead of just simply denying it and attacking me back. He doesn’t. And the argument goes on. 

I think about my childhood a lot when I think about the way I am. It’s a bit Freudian to say, but most of the reasons we think the way we think and do as we do are rooted in how we were raised. Growing up, because I was in an environment where I was pretty much constantly criticized by my parents for the most benign or inane things, criticism was like having paint on the walls — it was just always there, like the furniture. And so because of that, when I do get any type of critique, I’m more likely than Chris to think about the validity of the critique and how true it actually is. I do not immediately assume it’s true, but I also do not immediately deny its validity.

Kaia always knows when we’re arguing or having a heated discussion. She clearly gets in the middle of fights over toys and the related at school, and she parrots what her teacher says while we’re arguing: “Stop it right now!” “Knock it off!” “Stop it, everyone!” “No, no, no!” “Everybody, CALM DOWN!” More often than not, Kaia intervening serves as comic relief. But other times, I wonder what impact listening to our arguing really has on her. In the realm of arguing, I’d probably say that our arguing is “low impact,” as in, low overall toxicity. But there’s always the question of: how do you model good arguing and conflict resolution to your child so that she grows up to argue in a rational, well-thought-out, relatively respectable way? An argument in a healthy relationship is supposed to have a resolution of some sort. So if we don’t have a real resolution that effects change moving forward, are we actually modeling healthy arguing to her? This is likely a work in progress, especially as she is developing her language and comprehension skills every day. If there is any motivation to changing how we argue and how we resolve conflicts, then she should be the motivator.

Toddler Kaia eats eggs for the first time

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As a baby, Kaia ate eggs in different ways: strips, omelettes, scrambles. Even back then, she didn’t seem to be a fan of them when they were hard boiled, though she did gobble them up when they were marinated in a Vietnamese caramelized pork belly braise. But after she turned one, she pretty much refused eggs no matter which way they were presented, and I have a feeling it’s because she wasn’t a fan of their squishy texture. Today, I realized I had some languishing tomatoes in my vegetable drawer in the fridge, so I tossed them into a hot pan with leftover scallions, some minced pork, and eggs to make a very saucy tomato, pork, and egg scramble. Because of all the liquid that came out of the tomatoes, the eggs were a lot runnier and soupy than I had hoped; they begged for some rice to soak up all the juices. When lunch time rolled around, Kaia was being fussy with the food we presented to her, so I randomly offered her some of the eggs, thinking she’d definitely reject them. But surprisingly, she actually ate a really good-sized helping. First, she took a small pea-sized amount and put it in her mouth, chewed, and swallowed. Then, she grabbed some more out of the bowl I presented and stuffed more in her mouth. I added some more onto her silicone plate, and she continued to eat it until there were just tiny remnants left. And in the end, she ate a very healthy toddler-sized portion of my tomato scramble.

We tend to assume our kids won’t eat things. We think that after multiple times of rejection, they will just keep rejecting. But it takes a lot perseverance as parents and caregivers to just keep offering a rejected food every time it’s on the menu, even if it’s literally just showing them the food and having them push it away. It takes just a few seconds of our effort. Because you never know when your child might actually say “yes” again.

“Did you have a good gym?” 

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Kaia is speaking in longer, fuller sentences each day. I’m sure a lot of the influence is from school where she hears interactions between teachers and administrators all the time. She also hears us interact at home and likes to mimic us. 

One thing she’s been doing when she’s having breakfast on weekday mornings is yell out for me when I’m coming in through the door, back from my workout at the gym. “Hi, Mummy-Dear!” she will call out before she even sees me. “Did you have a good gym?” 

It’s really cute. Sometimes, she will ask, “Did you have a good day?” at the end of the day when she sees me. And because she knows I am at the gym when she’s waking up and eating breakfast since Chris tells her, she will incorrectly ask if I had a good “gym.” We should probably teach her to say “workout” instead of “gym,” but I can’t help but smile and gush over how adorable this incorrect speech is. It’s like how now that she’s over 2, I still miss the days when she would say “bluey” for blueberry or “mangi” for mango. The speech mistakes are part of the growth, and while I’m happy she learns the correct form of speech, I still reminisce on the incorrect times. 

Secrets to less tightness in your hip: sleeping with straight legs

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For months, I couldn’t figure out how to get rid of the tightness in my hip after running. It all started last autumn when I started running more rigorously. I’d feel fine after the run, but the next morning upon waking, I’d immediately notice a tightness in my right hip when I’d get out of bed. It would linger for a few days, and then eventually fade away. I started decreasing my running and instead, increasing my elliptical workouts for cardio. The trainer at the gym advised me to do specific “pre-conditioning” or “pre-exercise” moves to strengthen my glutes, stretch out my hips, and strengthen my core, before any run. I looked up some videos online for stretches and exercises to help with hip tightness. I did all of these things regularly, but to no avail. I was continually tight in that same right hip after runs. Sometimes, even after elliptical workouts, my right hip would be tight. And for this year, it’s pretty much been consistently tight. I had no idea how to resolve this.

I kept up my Google searches, hopeful that I’d run into some new article suggesting the magic exercise or stretch that would ultimately find me. And then I stumbled upon something totally new that I’d never thought of before: an article suggested that because we spend most of our day with our legs bent (walking, sitting down), that we could give our hips a “rest” by simply keeping our legs straight while sleeping. So for the last two nights, I tried my best to sleep with both legs straight. Well, I woke up this morning, and for the first time in months, my right hip was NO LONGER TIGHT. I couldn’t believe it. It was almost as though I had a new hip!

Chris blamed it on my “fetaling,” the fetal position I usually like to sleep in. Whatever it was, if sleeping with my legs straight is the cure to my tight right hip, then that’s fine by me!

“Permission to Fail”

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I’m making good progress reading the book Permission to Come Home by Jenny T. Wang. Right now, I’m on the section called “Permission to Fail,” which is exactly what it sounds like it’s about. In life, through big and small events, we’re constantly learning, and in learning, it’s inevitable that we will make mistakes, but that’s part of the process of living. When babies are learning to walk, they will stumble and fall — it’s not a mistake! It’s all work in progress! They learn from their fall, and then they persevere and try again and again until they can pull themselves up, stand up and stay there, then take one step, two steps, multiple steps. The tiny steps that are built into that process are around using arm, core, and leg strength. They are learning little by little how much of each to use to do what movements at which time.

I thought about the process of babies learning to walk when I was thinking about this section of the book. And I thought about the very damaging advice that my mom used to constantly give Ed and me: “One step wrong, and everything in your life goes wrong!” It was such a fixed (anti growth) mindset, a narrow way of looking at the world, putting ourselves in a situation where we’d basically have zero hope… unless we followed everything exactly as our parents wanted, and then, our lives would be perfect! And then, I comically thought of Kaia learning how to walk, stumbling and falling, and my mom yelling at her, “One step wrong, and everything in your life goes wrong!”

Everything, regardless of whether it was rooted in reality or not, was either a major success or failure growing up. If it was a failure, it resulted in my and my family having “no face.” When I got laid off at my first job out of college just nine months after I started (and during the worst financial crisis to date of my lifetime), my mom got angry at me. She said, “You have no face! No one respects you! No one will want to look at you to your face!” She advised me to immediately move home and start looking for jobs there. In the next month, my cousin was getting married in Las Vegas, and she tried to prevent me from going to the wedding. “The wedding isn’t important!” she yelled. “Why are you going to spend money to go to a wedding where no one will care about you because you lost your job? You have no income, so why are you spending money on travel? You have no face at this wedding! Don’t bother coming!”

It was such an awful, demoralizing, terrorizing thing to say to a 23-year-old who hadn’t even been in full-time employment for a year: because I got laid off and had no job, I was not worth seeing. I had no self worth. I was not worth socializing with. It’s never anyone’s “fault” when they get laid off, especially during a financial crisis where everyone, left and right, is losing their job, the economy is unstable, and companies are cutting costs left and right. But she tried to make it seem like it was my fault, as though I did something wrong. That’s why she kept on saying I had “no face.” To my parents, if you were working, you were a “worthy” person. If you didn’t work, if you had a low-paying job, or if you were unemployed/stay-at-home parent/partner, you were “nothing.” That’s how my parents measure value in an adult.

I’ve lost my job a couple times since that first layoff. It was never easy, but I’ve grown a lot along the way. It was never my “fault.” I never saw them as “mistakes,” but as situations to learn from — because that’s what all of life is ideally: continual learning, growth, and personal evolution. But one thing I did learn from that period? I would never, ever tell my parents if I ever got laid off or fired — ever again. They would never provide a safe space for me. They would never be supportive of me in my down moments and instead, would just push me further down. I didn’t need the constant criticism or judgment. I was already such a harsh critic of myself already, so why did I need two other people judging me?

It’s sad to remember these times, especially since these types of interactions were not isolated. But I think the biggest thing here, as the title of the chapter indicates, is giving yourself permission to fail, even if those who are supposed to be closest to you won’t. Who cares what other people think? You have to give yourself permission to fail, to grow, to move forward. C’est la vie — or at least, that’s the life worth living.