This Christmas . . .

This Christmas, like last, didn't feel like Christmas to me. There was no smell of the fresh scent of pine from a real Christmas tree and there was no opportunity to relive the many memories of Christmas time when I put up the unique and symbolic ornaments from so many special friends. You see, every X-mas, before the little feet arrived into our lives, I have a New Years Eve party for my side of friends. The only thing my friends bring to the party is an ornament that is special to them or is representative of something about them so I can always remember who I got it from whenever I bring the ornaments out to put them on the tree. So there is a nice collection now and it's truly a joy to put up ornaments.

Last year, Ethan was about three months when X-mas came and I was too occupied with the new parent experience to organize something. Then this X-mas, we are busy planning on closing two apartments, renovating the one we are moving into, and preparing for this new addition to the family. We just have too much on our minds to have the spirit or the energy to make sure everyone will have a good time. Besides, getting invited to parties was so much easier and we had enough invites to keep us busy every night this past X-mas weekend. With that said, I still miss those moments of X-mas when I look up at the tree and feel so happy because I had so many special friends who really put thoughts into being a part of my life and memories.

I vow that in 2007, we will have a X-mas and New Years Eve party with friends to rekindle the good times . . . and add more ornaments to the tree. I say "we" because my life has changed for the better since marriage. We have built a little family and we have shared so many good times around the holidays that it won't feel the same ever again if we are not together under the Xmas tree or making our New Years resolutions. I am also excited to share the spirit and joy of X-mas with the little ones because it would be their first X-mas tree. I think Ethan will be thrilled to "carry" the tree home with his Daddy and discover gifts underneath them on X-mas day. I believe it is true that at the end of our lives, it'll be memories that count . . . and every missed opportunity to create memories of good times is a missed opportunity to add happiness to our lives.

Wishing you a Merry Xmas and Happy Holiday!

JW

The Family's First Wee Hour Rush to the Emergency Room

It's hard to feel like a good parent when one virus is followed by another with just one week's breathing room in between. Last thursday morning, Ethan was more fuzzy in the middle of the night than the few nights before, crying louder in the night and more frequently. We just thought he was acting up. Finally, I guess, JK put him in our bed. I woke up in shock that Ethan was next to me because I wasn't exercising the care of a mother who knew her young child was next to her. Anyway, I touched him and noticed that he was warmer than usual but didn't give it too much thought thinking he may just be hot sleeping between the parents and fully blanketed. Besides, I was dead tired. So the morning was as usual - rush to get out of the apartment, drop off my two babies, and walk to work.

Then when I went to see Ethan at the MIL's, I noticed that he was very warm again. The MIL assured me that it was because she just bathed him and he was eating and sleeping normal during the day. JK had arranged to have Ethan stay over that night because he was going to be busy in a meeting at the co-op. I was just missing Ethan and wanted to see him before driving home. But Ethan was acting out of norm when he refused to let me go. So my motherly instinct said I should take him home and check his temperature, since the thermameter was home. The ride home was horrible. Ethan cried from the top of his lungs for 30 minutes. Nothing stopped him from screaming and struggling with all his might to get out of his car seat. My only desire was to get home and get help to bring him up since I really can't and shouldn't carry him at this stage of my pregnancy. After numerous calls to JK, he called back just as I was pulling into the garage. Perfect. But he said, "Why is he with you?" In a fit, after explaining why I had to bring him home already, I screamed, "BECAUSE HE IS SICK!" So daddy quietly uttered, "Alright, I'll be right there."

So the night began. Daddy left his meeting and we focused our attention on Ethan. Daddy checked Ethan's temperature - a wopping 104 degrees. Adrenaline started flowing in both of us while Ethan is still his own self wandering around getting into things, with the waddle of a drunk. We dug out the tylenol and forced a dose down his throat. It's cherry flavored and it really doesn't taste bad but this little one figured out that it was not something he had a choice over so of course he had to fight it with major kicking and screams. Then I cooked for Ethan - peas and some other things, and Daddy had cereal and some other crap for dinner. Daddy ran after Ethan and was lucky enough to get him to eat a cup of yogert and drank some milk and lots of animal crackers. Ethan had some peas and some other stuff which I can't recall. Then when his temperature went down to about 101 at about 11:00 pm, we put him to bed, thinking it will continue in that direction. We were really exhausted already.

When Ethan cried at about 1:00 a.m. , I just whispered to JK to soothe him with a hand rubbing his back. Then the next thing I heard was, "He is really hot. Get the thermameter NOW." Off the bed I jumped, which normally would mean serious pain because all my ligaments are loose now, but I can't remember how my hips and joints felt at that moment. I ran to get the thermameter. JK said, "It's 106." My eyes wide open and heart pounding, in disbelief. Daddy said, get the tylenol. I ran to get it. We forced it down Ethan's throat again. Don't know where this little kid got his energy from at 106 fever, but he managed to vomit half of it out in his fierce struggle. I held him with a heartache and noticed he was shaking but still playing with the thermameter. JK said he wasn't shaking. I said he is so we had a little argument there. But JK agreed we should call the pediatrician. It was 2:00 am. For the first time, the pediatrician wanted us to doing something other than to monitor the situation, "Go to the nearest emergency room now and get him checked out." Woah, this has to be serious. We decided to go to NY Presbytarian even though it's not the nearest but that's the pediatrician's hospital and it's one of the best in the nation. At 2:30 a.m., how can there be traffic? So off we went. No traffic and we saw a meter parking space just across from the hospital. Thank God I thought. Everything is going to be okay. By then Ethan's temperature already came down to 102 to 103. So we were making progress.

Progress is not the word to describe an emergency room experience. We were seen by a nurse about 20 minutes after we arrived. Ethan got motrin and his temperature came down quickly to 99 or 100 and stayed there. Then for the next three and a half hours, we were just waiting. Imagine waiting with a sick and cranky child who would only calm down when you are walking around with him in your arms while you are also dead tired. Unimaginable suffering. I felt bad for JK because he did most of that.

When we were finally seen by a doctor, it was good. For the first time, a doctor let me see through an ear probe how a normal ear look and one with an ear infection, cause that's Ethan's right and left ear. But because an ear infection don't normally cause high fever of 106, the doctor wanted a blood test and an urine test for other infections like urinary tract infection. JK assertedly refused any caterer for the urine test . . . and refused it all together because it would be too painful for his little angel. Even our pediatrician who got on the phone with him couldn't change his mind. So we opted to stick a bag in Ethan's diaper and hopefully get him to drink a lot and pee very soon. I knew it was going to be difficult because Ethan had no appetite for anything at those hours of the day . . . not to mention having been awake with no sleep for so many hours. But daddy was correct not to put him through such pain at 15 months of life. Besides, I told him I have to leave the room if the caterer was to be used so that must have made him even more determined to refuse that method. Anyway, Ethan resisted peeing until after the blood test, chest x-ray and a test for possible flu - that was 2.5 hours after the bag was put on him. Oh, the joy of us seeing that pee, inexplicable! We could go home soon ...

After about another hour or so, when the test results came back, Ethan was released with no medication and no diagnosis for why there was a high fever because all the test results were negative. A relief and yet not. For the rest of the day, we monitored him and he slept like a baby most of the day. Both JK and I took a day off even though we both had a lot of work at work. Our son is our priority, we said affirmatively and comforted each other that there shall be no guilt about that.

The rest of the day and weekend, Ethan got better. On Sunday night, we saw red rashes on his body. We were worried again but we had a follow up appointment with Ethan's pediatrician the next morning so we decided to wait unless we see high temperature again. Besides, Ethan was acting normal otherwise.

So what was the cause? Well, apparently there is a virus called Roseola that causes a very high fever for two to three days before the virus reveals itself with a rash. Ethan had finally fought it and would improve from here on. A final relief that came with some knowledge of the cause.

Stay tuned to the next episode . . .

JW

A Necessary Commitment

The letter read something like, "We are pleased to inform you that you have been approved to live in a cooperative located in Manhattan with 24 hour doorman service, 24 hour gym, 24 laundry facilities, and lots of play space for your kids." Well, at least that's what I remember the letter said. So we were pleased and got ready to dream about closing in the first week of January. Would love to close in December but our bridge financing is not available until the first week of January. I don't like to borrow money in general so we'll just stick to family borrowing for a month or two. We are in contract to sell the lovely one bedroom we are living in now so cash is flowing in soon. All in all, I feel lucky and fortunate that we can have more time with our children in a bigger space soon. Most of all, JK and I may be able to have a life despite having two children since restaurants and other hangout places are that much closer to home and to his mother who may be able to babysit for an hour or two while we try to date again . . . rekindle some old memories of hand-holding etc. Yup, it's a huge mortgage, but anything for love and family.

JW

Battle of the Wills

Two weekends ago, after more than 14 months of sleeping in the couch in the living room, JK realized we have a convertible crib that can become a junior bed, not just a full size bed. This amazing discovery elicited both inspiration and nagging regrets that we haven't made Ethan sleep in his own bed earlier ... only if JW had told him earlier as he kept saying. JK wanted to be the guy in the bed, not his son. So the same day he made this discovery, he converted the crib to a junior bed and was determined to put Ethan in his junior bed and to reclaim his rightful spot in our bed. Those first few nights, which I have very vague memories of now, were on the whole quite successful. JK waited till Ethan was relatively tired, then drunk him with several ounces of milk while his eyes were still closed, then slowly but steadily lowered him into his own bed immediately next to our bed. JK slept between Ethan and me. It worked! Our heads hit the pillow and quickly sank into dreams in those early hours. Unfortunately, like an alarm, Ethan promptly made us jump from the bed with cries that sounded like he was being tortured. On the first night, my motherly instinct got me rushing over to hold him and JK was furious because that must have woke Ethan up completely. Then Ethan wouldn't let go so I had to hold him with him sitting on my 7th month pregnant belly. No, not so comfortable for me at all and God knows what our little girl was feeling. JK, as usual, got the milk and fed Ethan till Ethan sank back into his sleepy state again. Once Ethan went back to sleep, we both just slipped back underneath the comforter, desperate to catch some more sleep before it's time to wake up for work. Then on another night, it was cold and I just couldn't help but worry that Ethan was cold and I couldn't sleep because of that. So when Ethan cried a little, I tried to cover him with his blankets, which JK claimed to have caused Ethan to wake up and cry. So those were the earlier days.

Since my reaction was so unconducive to training Ethan to sleep in his own bed, JK took on the job of responding to him. Hey, no problem. Nothing like not having to get up in the middle of the night. Two nights ago, JK was so tired, he didn't hear Ethan's cries. I didn't know because I just assumed JK was doing what he was suppose to. So apparently Ethan just stopped crying on his own at some point. Then last night, Ethan cried at 12:30 am or so, then at 4:00 am or so, then at 5:00 am or so. Each time JK basically said we have to train him to stop wanting milk in the middle of the night because he doesn't need it and we could all use the sleep. So we did. We slept through his screams. Until about 6:30 am in the morning when Ethan was sitting up and screaming from the top of his lungs. Daddy's guilt came through and got him milk or water I think. In any case, Ethan was soon back asleep, this time Daddy put Ethan next to me and Ethan was quiet once his little hands found me. Feeling his spot was taken, Daddy went out to read and wash the sippy cups. Yes, we are taking Ethan off the bottle too. Why? All the milk Ethan drank to fall asleep in the last few months have our doctor notice we haven't been taking care of his teeth. If the doctor noticed it, then it must be a problem . . . Aaaaaaah!!!!!!!!!! Have we been doing everything wrong? So we have decided it's time for Ethan to grow up which he is completely capable of. We just have to let him.

So far, Ethan is drinking milk and water from the sippy cups and bottles with straws. We decommissioned our bottles. Hooray!! We were unable to make JK's mom surrender the last bottle, which she claims she needs to keep in case Ethan really refuse the sippy cup. Well, we can't start searching her apartment so right now we will let that go. Hopefully, Ethan will be trained to sleep through the night soon and we can enjoy two months of uninterrupted sleep before the next little night terrorist arrive.

JW

Already Exhibiting the Family Trait

Just last week, we noticed a little singer in our mist. He sings whenever and wherever . . . twinkle twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are, up above the sky so high . . .

Well, may be I should be more clear. Little Ethan nose-sings the song, but I noticed the notes immediately. It was then that I realized the ABC song and Twinkle Twinkel Little Star share the same music. I wouldn't have known but for the fact that I had to figure out which song Ethan was so constantly singing to himself while he eats, pee, poop, or just walking about the apartment exploring his world. Yeah, I used to do that too before he was born . . . singing everywhere. (But not when I eat pee or poop. That's Ethan's thing.) Those were the more relaxing days and singing is relaxing. Then I noticed JK started doing that too. So sometimes we would do a duet rather than talk . . . so an argument is in the form of a song . . . I would sing one line and he would answer with another. The note changes depending on the intensity of the discussion or argument. So we rarely had fights . . . just arguments sung out in songs. Those memories were great . . . at times calling each other names while we sing like we were performing in an opera. Yup, it's hard to remember we ever argued since we always had so much fun. So may be a fetus does hear the mother's voice while still in the womb. Little Ethan loves to sing. Can't wait till he picks up another melody.

Another little one is coming . . .

We are in the mist of major transitions. We are selling the little one-bedroom we are currently living in and buying a two-bedroom in Manhattan. Both are coops so the process will drag on until early next year. Not a problem for me. In fact, I much prefer the one we are selling to close in April. No doubt it will present a financial drain but we are expecting a little girl in March 07. I am no superwoman who can handle a move, childbirth and recovery, and the incessant demands of a newborn. Especially this time, I expect to weather the challenge with no expectation of help from the in-laws. Granted, my mother-in-law will take care of little Ethan, our 14 month old who would be 18 months then. With all her good intentions, she gives me more mental stress than relief. My best characterization of us is that we are just two women who live in different worlds with different standards and it's best we be kept apart to avoid clashes on important matters like what to feed a newborn - formula or breastmilk. Those who she talks to may be told that she really did want Ethan to be breastfed but all that talk of hers boil me even more because a person should truly be judged by actions. Yes . . . if you haven't figured it out, I have some deep seeded anger that needs to be worked out. My daughter is my chance to do what I wasn't able to accomplish with Ethan . . . I was deferential to my in-laws with the hopes that we maintain a good and long lasting relationship. Besides, I thought at the time when Ethan was born, that my mother-in-law was willing to make the sacrifice of staying with us in our little one-bedroom to help out and to "take care of me". Well, she didn't think very hard about how to take care of a postpartum mother and give her a nutritional diet. I guess like she said, in her days she had nothing much to eat . . . just white rice and vinegar stuff. I was too emotionally challenged and not yet made up my mind to say "hell with what she thinks", go grocery shopping and take back my kitchen. Afterall, my own mother warns about going out in the first month and be exposed to the elements . . . which allegedly would weaken me for the rest of my life. So the opening was there for her to do the Mao Zhe Dong coercion thing on me . . . talk to me everyday about how every women in her village in China did not have enough milk to feed their baby. Granted, each day was a different story about a different woman. How she knows all these private business I dont' know. I was also concerned about the marriage . . . JK is quite deferential to his mother and if I did not try to work things out or try to see from her perspective, I thought my whole life would fall apart. Besides, I loved my marriage and we just had a beautiful child. Only later did I realize that I was losing control over my life in every way . . . and that my life fell apart because I allowed myself to be a prisoner in someone else's world with someone else's idea of being alive.

So in short, I will take good care of myself this time around with all the generous help from family and friends welcomed, but not anyone who comes around to me with "this is how you should eat, drink, and take care of your baby." Kindness of that sort I don't need. To accomplish this, I much prefer to be in my little one-bedroom in Queens, miles away from my in-laws who live in Manhattan.

Finally, I am joining the many who have started their blog to keep friends and family connected to their everyday experience . . . some extraordinary, some just thoughts. So check in once in a while.