Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Ratting On The Kids

Aiden was having so much fun playing phone-phone yesterday.  I got endless calls from him asking me how I was doing.  Suddenly he tells me that its for me.  For me?  When he wants me to play with him it usually means he does all the playing and I just pretty much sit there keeping him company.  I should be honored that this earthling was engaging me in his game.

I take the phone as he hands it to me and begin my monologue with my mystery caller.

Me:  Hello, who is this?  Oh Santa it's you.
His mouth drops.
Me:  What's that?  Has Aiden been a good boy?  Oh yes he has.
He smiles one of his ear to ear smiles.
Me:  Oh yeah, he did bite in school a few times.
Aiden:  I did not!  I did not bite!
He protests with violent head shaking.
Me:  Don't worry Santa, he promises to not bite anymore.  I am sure he will be a good boy from now on.
He smiles again.
Me:  OK.  Thanks Santa.  Bye.

Nothing like some good old fashioned blackmailing.  So much for modern parenting.


Monday, July 26, 2010

The Eagle

 Sunrise  yoga in pajamas. 





Snot Control

After a year of procrastination, I finally take the earthlings to a homeopathic pediatrician.  I love the pediatrician of the boys but seeing a homeopathic pediatrician gives me a sense of balance.  It gives you the option to say no drugs.  We had a homeopathic pediatrician in Spain but never got around to seeing one here, we were still doing the remedies and things were going pretty well in the phlegm and mucus department.  When they have health issues, it usually involves something vile and disgusting like greenish phlegm spat into my hand or yellow mucus shot out of both nostrils after a ground shaking sneeze.  Lovely, my life is truly lovely.

I first sought out homeopathy when Gael was around 10 months old and I was sick and tired of the pediatrician and pneumonologist prescribing him Ventolin AND antibiotics.  That's when Dr. Victor Casaprima came into our lives like the cult leader Charles Manson and showed us the alternative route.  I listened and followed everything he said, I was a convert.  Now, we rarely take a drop of paracetamol, ibuprofen, cough syrup, antibiotics and any other unnecessary drug pharmaceuticals make and sell.    Dear Dr. Victor Casaprima, please move to the Philippines and we can form our own cult here.  We're a total snot house without you.

Actually the snot was under control until a few months ago when Aiden got a cough that never fully went away and was stuffy most mornings.  Gael took to calling him Mr. Mocos and Aiden thought it was the funniest thing to have slime-like snot hanging out of his nose.  Lovely.  While Gael was drenched in sweat all summer with the hellish heat wave we had and this triggered a horrible dermatitis and I succumbed to giving him a steroid cream.  Ugh!  I was kicking myself for having to do this but the poor guy was dying of itchiness.


But I have a feeling my Mercury suki card will soon be lost in the inner most crevices of my wallet, in a place where all the cards and receipt I no longer need are.  I have a good feeling about Dr. Cricket Chen and the boys loved being at her clinic.  She really knows her alternative medicine, she is a genuine homeopath.  I had my doubts since homeopathy in the Philippines is way out of the box.  I've only heard of two homeopathic pediatricians.  You can't just get the stuff at a pharmacy which is exactly what I would do in Spain but you can get it at the homeopath's.  Dr. Chen is at St. Luke's Global City and that's just a 15 minute drive from home, which is the equivalent to 1 kilometer in Philippine traffic.    

I'll let you guys know in a month or so how our natural snot control is going. 


Friday, July 16, 2010

Bite Me

I think I jinxed myself.  I definitely did.  Just a few days ago I write about Aiden, and how he freaks his classmates out with his need for physical contact.  The very next day, I get a note from the teacher.  Actually it wasn't a note, it was an incident report.  Aiden bit a classmate however it wasn't such a shocker to me really.  You all must know by now that Aiden is my enfant terrible, by default I am a part of his naughty and ornery world.

As if that wasn't bad enough, I get ANOTHER incident report the day after.  The little devil bit another classmate!  And he has the nerve to deny it.  "I did not do it, Mama.  I did not."  Yeah right!  Dude, I know for a fact that when kids bite they leave small teeth marks on the skin of their victims.  You can't fool me Aiden.  I've seen those teeth marks on you and your brother after your rounds of UFC-like playing and fighting.

But this tale doesn't begin here.  We already got one of these notes the first week of school.  Yes, the first week of school when he was only there for about an hour.   He bit the yaya in the class.  Twice.  So, that gives Aiden 3 biting episodes at school in not even a month.  UGH!   When my astrologer/mother-in-law told me this one is the one that will get me in trouble she certainly wasn't kidding around. 

So its back to the Baby Whisperer and Love and Logic that have been gathering dust on the shelf.  Just when I thought I didn't need parenting books anymore.  Tsk! Tsk! Tsk! Rone, Rone, Rone, how presumptuous of you!  No wonder something was stopping me from selling them at the last garage sale.

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Zoo Packs Again

Just a few weeks ago I was ranting away at how Rustan's was all over the media about their Skip Hop bags and the Zoo Pack that I wanted for Aiden was no where in Rustan's.  Well, they're at it again.  Look what I see on Smart Parenting.  Do you think they have them this time?  Its too late, school already started and Aiden's got all his gear.  I certainly am not rushing over there again only to be dicked around lied to by the sales staff.

Sunday, July 11, 2010

King of Cling

That's Aiden.  The Leech.

When he was a baby he had to be ON me most of the day.  Yup, you read that right O-N me.  My back will forever be ungrateful.   He was that needy wailing baby that stopped crying the minute he was in my arms.  When he was finally sitting up on his own, he decided to give me a small break.  Just a teeny tiny one.  Instead of being on me, right next to me was now acceptable.

The first 18 months of his life were spend on my boob, in a carrier on my chest, in a sling on my hip, in a mei tai on my back, beside me on the kitchen floor floor while I cooked, in the bathroom in a bouncy chair while I took a shower and in a bumbo in the living room while I had dinner on the coffee table with Gael.  What can I say, I he was my number one fan.

A couple of weeks old   
Three Months Old
Nine Months Old


When we left home I had to hold his hand WHILE I pushed his stroller.  At a restaurant or a friends home he had to be on my lap.  Seriously, this guy could out stalk a stalker.  I was this close to getting a restraining order.  Dude, I know I carried you in my belly for 9 months, gave birth to you and blah, blah, blah but I still need some space.  Do you always have to stick to me like glue?  Can you sit beside me instead of on my lap?

Very gradually this King of Cling is venturing out on his own more and more.  Quite literally, a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.    He still is leechy but it's nothing compared to a year ago.  Or so I thought.  A few days ago his nursery teacher gives me a report of how he's been adapting at school.  Turns out he freaks his classmates out with his touchy-feely self.  At first they thought he was being aggressive then realized that he just needed some lovin'.  Fortunately for me they are only in nursery.  They are three and none of them could possibly tell their parents "Mama, there's this kid Aiden in my class that always wants to hug and hold hands.  It's soooo annoying."  Let's save that exciting moment for the next decade.


Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Macho Macho Boy

The mere thought will probably make you laugh but I was a girly little girl that loved pink, lace, bows, baby dolls and Barbie.  I know, if I weren't talking about myself I would accuse myself of lying.  I used to drive my sister crazy with all frill and frou frou that was all over the room we shared.  Then I hit puberty and the sight of our pink room made me want to vomit.

Well, as karma would have it, Gael is the typical little boy.  He loves anything that involves superheroes, football and dinosaurs.  As soon as he learned to walk he started dribbling a ball  and picking out Spiderman t-shirts and toys.  What?  You think I'm exaggerating?  Take a look at the picture below, he was only 15 months old then.


Zoom in and you'll see the Spiderman ball
 
There are a few problems I have with his being so B.O.Y.

One, superheroes are all about violence.  Their slogans are all about helping and saving. Yeah right, we all know its more about ass-kicking, fist-fighting and killing.  I do not buy toy guns or weapons but I can't control his imagination.  Without the toy gun he just uses his hand or the plastic wrench.  Without the toy gun to blast his enemy's head-off he just karate chops them to death.  I always try to pipe in my hippie-peace-loving crap "Hurting others is not good.  Remember superheros help people, they don't hurt people."  But that only makes him use his sonic force field to make the enemy disintegrate or accuse me of making his game boring.  Me? Boring?  Dude, you should have met me in college.

Two, I'm lethargic.  I don't even know how to dribble a ball (with my hands or my feet) or couldn't be bothered to run to save my life.  Gael is a living action figure, I simply can't keep up with him.  Sometimes he gives in to me and plays go fish, bingo or Lego.  Soon after he's itching for some superhero turmoil, wild rumpus and monkey bar swinging.

Three, I hate to admit it but I guess there still is that girly girl in me.  Dinosaurs stomping around and destroying forests and homes with their tails isn't exactly what I'd call fun.  Every now and then I annoy him and make the dinosaurs say sorry or kiss each other until he gets so agitated he cries "Mama! Dinosaurs don't kiss!"

Masculinity does not have to mean violence and I'm going to make Gael realizes this even it makes me *gasp* boring and corny.  Or even better things could just work out for themselves, he is only five after all.  I was girly till I was about 10, boys mature later so I only have 10 years to go.  Sounds right?