Halloween is not what it used to be. I hate to use these words, but back in my day, Halloween was so much more fun.
Kids would trick-or-treat for hours, people would open up their homes or garages and make mini haunted houses, adults dressed up to give out candy and we would have costume parades at school.
Now, it is considered late if you come by a house at 8 p.m. and people prefer malls, zoos and other play places instead of the traditional trick-or-treating.
Somehow, I don’t think standing in line after line for a few pieces of candy is comparable to going home to home and seeing different decorations or costumes and receiving a variety of candy.
I remember when I was a child; my neighbor would always decorate his house elaborately. I remember a giant fuzzy spider he had hanging from his porch that he would drop down to surprise and scare all of the kids. We loved it.
There were several homes that did things similar to my neighbor, and I remember being excited every year to visit these homes again.
My goal every year was to fill my candy bag all the way to the top.
I also looked forward to showing off whatever creative costume I had for the year at school. Most of the kids at school would dress up on Halloween and it was so much fun to admire all of the other costumes while we had treats in the classroom.
Now costumes are not allowed at most schools.
It was also fun to play with the flash lights we would take with us when we went trick-or-treating. It was the whole experience of it that created so many happy memories for me.
It seems every year there are fewer trick-or-treaters and many of them are older kids who really have no business going around asking for candy anyway.
I think it is so sad how just a few people could ruin a fun tradition for so many children. Fears of poisoned candy, predators and bag snatchers has forced people to celebrate in different ways.
Families flock to malls and churches instead of going from home to home. People who fear criminal action turn off their porch lights and lock their doors instead of decorating and passing out candy.
Stupid people vandalize homes that don’t give out candy or smash pumpkins that people spend hours carving and just ruin the whole occasion.
So now I have joined the trend of people who avoid the streets on Halloween and usually opt to take my children to church for a “safe zone.”
This annual tradition has changed so much in the “short time” from my childhood to now. But I guess it’s not about trick-or-treating and more about making happy memories, which we will definitely work on.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Thursday, October 23, 2008
I am so disgusted
Made in China. Those are three words I never thought I would fear. Growing up in the Asian community, I have shopped at the Asian supermarket countless times and purchased many food items from around the world.
Well, who would have thought that candy I have bought, ate and fed to my son would contain poison? Not me!
First, it was the White Rabbit candies I grew up eating. I loved those. But I have never fed those to my son Deven who is a bit picky. I haven't eaten the White Rabbit candy in years, so I was not too concerned when I learned that those were recalled for containing Melamine. Ugh.
But then, another one popped up. Koala cookies. What? Those are my Deven's favorite and I don't even know how many times I have bought those for him.
http://ca.news.yahoo.com/s/capress/081017/health/health_us_cda_cookie_recall
It is just so disturbing and disgusting to know that people would purposely put Melamine in these products (the milk) that indirectly contaminated so many other products.
It is heartbreaking how many children in China have become ill or died because of this. It is just so wrong on so many levels.
Even if no one became ill from eating this cookies, it's just scary to think about how easily dangerous chemicals can find a way into the foods we eat.
Well, this is my rant for the day. I am just so angry over this. We hear about baby formula being contaminated accross the globe, but never realize how something like that can trickle all the way over to our little safe bubble here at home.
Well, who would have thought that candy I have bought, ate and fed to my son would contain poison? Not me!
First, it was the White Rabbit candies I grew up eating. I loved those. But I have never fed those to my son Deven who is a bit picky. I haven't eaten the White Rabbit candy in years, so I was not too concerned when I learned that those were recalled for containing Melamine. Ugh.
But then, another one popped up. Koala cookies. What? Those are my Deven's favorite and I don't even know how many times I have bought those for him.
http://ca.news.yahoo.com/s/capress/081017/health/health_us_cda_cookie_recall
It is just so disturbing and disgusting to know that people would purposely put Melamine in these products (the milk) that indirectly contaminated so many other products.
It is heartbreaking how many children in China have become ill or died because of this. It is just so wrong on so many levels.
Even if no one became ill from eating this cookies, it's just scary to think about how easily dangerous chemicals can find a way into the foods we eat.
Well, this is my rant for the day. I am just so angry over this. We hear about baby formula being contaminated accross the globe, but never realize how something like that can trickle all the way over to our little safe bubble here at home.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
An inspiration to us all
(This isn't really a parent column, but it is a tribute I wrote about my friend Jamie Gonzales who passed away from cancer on Oct. 14, 2008 at the age of 25.)
Life can be cruel. We all know this; yet witnessing it is something different altogether.
I had the difficulty of witnessing one of my friends slowly fade away.
Jamie Gonzales, a vibrant, funny, smart, thoughtful, caring and wonderful friend passed away last Tuesday.
She had cancer, and I knew her time would be coming soon, but I had no idea it would be this fast. Nothing, and I mean nothing, could prepare me for the blow when she finally passed away.
My heart ached when I got the call that Tuesday night telling me about her passing. I had no clue how to react.
Her wedding was planned for early next year, but her diagnosis changed and she went from being given a few more years to live to having about two more months. Because of this, she bumped her wedding up to mid-November.
I was supposed to be her bride’s maid. We were supposed to go shoe shopping for her wedding. Her bridal shower was supposed to be this past Saturday.All I could think of was that she did not get a chance to get married. She did not get to have her bridal shower.
I just kept thinking of all of the things that she wanted to do but never got a chance to, and it hurt so much to think about.
One minute I was planning her bridal shower and the next, she was gone.
Once everything started going downhill with her health, it went fast, faster than any of us could keep up with.
I had just talked to her on the phone the Monday before she passed, and she told me that her doctor told her she had less than a week left. She did not even get that.
An infection cut her time from two months to one day.
I cried a lot the next few days after she died.
I cried for all of the things she never got a chance to do. I cried for the wedding gown in her closet that she never got to use. I cried for the career that she never got to shine in. I cried for the children she would never have.
She was too young. She was just starting out her life. It just was not fair.
And I hate to say it, but I also cried for myself. I cried because I missed her and because I knew I would never get to see her or talk to her again. No more Jamie text messages on my phone or instant messages online.
You see, my relationship with Jamie did not begin at the Citizen. We went to college together. We worked at the State Hornet, our college newspaper, together. We graduated together. We had the same friends.
Eventually, I stopped wallowing in my own pity and thought of Jamie, who throughout all of her illness, never did.
She always stayed positive. She still managed smiles and jokes. She still kept on working. She was amazing.
And just last month, as sick as she was, she still took the time to get a gift and go to Elk Grove Regional Park for my daughter’s first birthday party. That was Jamie.
Dying from cancer, Jamie would still send me messages asking how my daughter was when she was sick.
Jamie was always so thoughtful of other people. Her first day back at the Citizen office, after being out for her illness and undergoing Chemo therapy, she bought me coffee.
She still thought of me.
Self-absorbed is a word that could never describe Jamie. She never expected anybody to treat her different. All she wanted was the love and company of her fiancé, friends and family.
There are so many stories I could go on about that show how Jamie was just a fantastic friend.
And so now, I have tried to focus on the positive. I have stopped thinking about everything Jamie could not do, and instead, think about everything she was.
Jamie never cared what other people thought. She never felt the need to conform. You would never use the words trendy and Jamie in the same sentence and that is one thing we all loved about her.
She was who she wanted to be. While all the girls in college were wearing low rise jeans and little tank tops, Jamie was perfectly content wearing her regular jeans and a NASCAR T-shirt.
One huge comfort for me has been to reminisce about all of the special memories of Jamie with our wonderful network of friends from the Hornet.
We talked about the Halloween where Jamie came to school dressed as Carrie from the horror movie and how terrifying she looked, while all of the other girls were trying to look like sexy little schoolgirls. We reminisced about her awkward soccer skills.
It may seem strange, but I know these are the things she wanted to be remembered for. She wanted to be remembered for the person she was, not as the girl who died from cancer.
All of the fun times with Jamie have had such a huge effect of so many lives. She has shown so much strength and courage during her fight against cancer.
She has touched my life in so many ways. She has humbled me and reminded me not to take anything or anyone for granted. My phone conversations have been ending with I love you much more often.
Jamie, I miss you so much. Thank you for your friendship and for all of the ways you have inspired us all. I will never forget you. I love you.
Life can be cruel. We all know this; yet witnessing it is something different altogether.
I had the difficulty of witnessing one of my friends slowly fade away.
Jamie Gonzales, a vibrant, funny, smart, thoughtful, caring and wonderful friend passed away last Tuesday.
She had cancer, and I knew her time would be coming soon, but I had no idea it would be this fast. Nothing, and I mean nothing, could prepare me for the blow when she finally passed away.
My heart ached when I got the call that Tuesday night telling me about her passing. I had no clue how to react.
Her wedding was planned for early next year, but her diagnosis changed and she went from being given a few more years to live to having about two more months. Because of this, she bumped her wedding up to mid-November.
I was supposed to be her bride’s maid. We were supposed to go shoe shopping for her wedding. Her bridal shower was supposed to be this past Saturday.All I could think of was that she did not get a chance to get married. She did not get to have her bridal shower.
I just kept thinking of all of the things that she wanted to do but never got a chance to, and it hurt so much to think about.
One minute I was planning her bridal shower and the next, she was gone.
Once everything started going downhill with her health, it went fast, faster than any of us could keep up with.
I had just talked to her on the phone the Monday before she passed, and she told me that her doctor told her she had less than a week left. She did not even get that.
An infection cut her time from two months to one day.
I cried a lot the next few days after she died.
I cried for all of the things she never got a chance to do. I cried for the wedding gown in her closet that she never got to use. I cried for the career that she never got to shine in. I cried for the children she would never have.
She was too young. She was just starting out her life. It just was not fair.
And I hate to say it, but I also cried for myself. I cried because I missed her and because I knew I would never get to see her or talk to her again. No more Jamie text messages on my phone or instant messages online.
You see, my relationship with Jamie did not begin at the Citizen. We went to college together. We worked at the State Hornet, our college newspaper, together. We graduated together. We had the same friends.
Eventually, I stopped wallowing in my own pity and thought of Jamie, who throughout all of her illness, never did.
She always stayed positive. She still managed smiles and jokes. She still kept on working. She was amazing.
And just last month, as sick as she was, she still took the time to get a gift and go to Elk Grove Regional Park for my daughter’s first birthday party. That was Jamie.
Dying from cancer, Jamie would still send me messages asking how my daughter was when she was sick.
Jamie was always so thoughtful of other people. Her first day back at the Citizen office, after being out for her illness and undergoing Chemo therapy, she bought me coffee.
She still thought of me.
Self-absorbed is a word that could never describe Jamie. She never expected anybody to treat her different. All she wanted was the love and company of her fiancé, friends and family.
There are so many stories I could go on about that show how Jamie was just a fantastic friend.
And so now, I have tried to focus on the positive. I have stopped thinking about everything Jamie could not do, and instead, think about everything she was.
Jamie never cared what other people thought. She never felt the need to conform. You would never use the words trendy and Jamie in the same sentence and that is one thing we all loved about her.
She was who she wanted to be. While all the girls in college were wearing low rise jeans and little tank tops, Jamie was perfectly content wearing her regular jeans and a NASCAR T-shirt.
One huge comfort for me has been to reminisce about all of the special memories of Jamie with our wonderful network of friends from the Hornet.
We talked about the Halloween where Jamie came to school dressed as Carrie from the horror movie and how terrifying she looked, while all of the other girls were trying to look like sexy little schoolgirls. We reminisced about her awkward soccer skills.
It may seem strange, but I know these are the things she wanted to be remembered for. She wanted to be remembered for the person she was, not as the girl who died from cancer.
All of the fun times with Jamie have had such a huge effect of so many lives. She has shown so much strength and courage during her fight against cancer.
She has touched my life in so many ways. She has humbled me and reminded me not to take anything or anyone for granted. My phone conversations have been ending with I love you much more often.
Jamie, I miss you so much. Thank you for your friendship and for all of the ways you have inspired us all. I will never forget you. I love you.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Packing for babies
(From the Oct. 1 issue of the Citizen)
Taking family trips has always been something that my husband Steve and I love doing, even if it is just a quick getaway for the weekend.
My son Deven is 8 years old, so in addition to our things, we would only have to pack him some clothes, shoes and toothbrush.
But now traveling is not quite the same. We have our daughter Cheilin who just turned 1. We are still amazed at how someone so little requires so much stuff.
Even if we just go to visit friends or family for a weekend, there is special food to pack, milk, clothes, diapers, wipes and so much more.
On top of that, she has a Pack-N-Play playpen that we also have to take with us everywhere we go so that she has somewhere she could sleep.
We cannot let Cheilin sleep on a bed because we know she would roll off, and I just do not want to risk it.
Even if she does not roll off, I worry that she could fall if she tries to climb down after waking up in case Steve or I are not there to carry her. I suppose you can call me paranoid, but it beats taking her to the emergency room for a concussion.
While the playpen is relatively easy to pack, it takes up a lot of space and I could not imagine what it would be like trying to lug it through an airport.
Speaking of airports, we have had that experience once.
We took a trip to Disneyland when Cheilin was 2 months old, and all of her stuff was more than Steve, Deven and mine combined.
And passing through security with a baby and her stroller is no easy feat either. I just felt sorry for whoever was behind us in the line. I even had to take off her shoes.
We had to collapse the stroller and put it through the X-ray machine, but it was too big, so we had to pull it out after it got stuck. Then they just searched through it. It was a long and tedious process, but we made it to our flight on time.
Babies require a great deal of items wherever you go, even if it is just something simple, like going to the mall.
Cheilin’s diaper bag is already stuffed with her basic necessities, then we always have to have a blanket for her, the stroller and a small ice bag to keep her milk and food cold. It takes me 15 minutes just to pack up her stuff so we could go shopping.
As a parent, you really have to be prepared to give up your trunk, because it will become loaded with stuff for your kids. Actually, scratch that. You have to be prepared to give up your entire car.
Between the car seat, toys and books all over the car, it leaves little room for much else.
It has been so long since Deven was a baby, that it still shocks me every time we go out and I see just how much stuff Cheilin needs.
I think I am getting used to it now though. But mainly, I am sure Steve has gotten used to me packing half of the nursery.
Taking family trips has always been something that my husband Steve and I love doing, even if it is just a quick getaway for the weekend.
My son Deven is 8 years old, so in addition to our things, we would only have to pack him some clothes, shoes and toothbrush.
But now traveling is not quite the same. We have our daughter Cheilin who just turned 1. We are still amazed at how someone so little requires so much stuff.
Even if we just go to visit friends or family for a weekend, there is special food to pack, milk, clothes, diapers, wipes and so much more.
On top of that, she has a Pack-N-Play playpen that we also have to take with us everywhere we go so that she has somewhere she could sleep.
We cannot let Cheilin sleep on a bed because we know she would roll off, and I just do not want to risk it.
Even if she does not roll off, I worry that she could fall if she tries to climb down after waking up in case Steve or I are not there to carry her. I suppose you can call me paranoid, but it beats taking her to the emergency room for a concussion.
While the playpen is relatively easy to pack, it takes up a lot of space and I could not imagine what it would be like trying to lug it through an airport.
Speaking of airports, we have had that experience once.
We took a trip to Disneyland when Cheilin was 2 months old, and all of her stuff was more than Steve, Deven and mine combined.
And passing through security with a baby and her stroller is no easy feat either. I just felt sorry for whoever was behind us in the line. I even had to take off her shoes.
We had to collapse the stroller and put it through the X-ray machine, but it was too big, so we had to pull it out after it got stuck. Then they just searched through it. It was a long and tedious process, but we made it to our flight on time.
Babies require a great deal of items wherever you go, even if it is just something simple, like going to the mall.
Cheilin’s diaper bag is already stuffed with her basic necessities, then we always have to have a blanket for her, the stroller and a small ice bag to keep her milk and food cold. It takes me 15 minutes just to pack up her stuff so we could go shopping.
As a parent, you really have to be prepared to give up your trunk, because it will become loaded with stuff for your kids. Actually, scratch that. You have to be prepared to give up your entire car.
Between the car seat, toys and books all over the car, it leaves little room for much else.
It has been so long since Deven was a baby, that it still shocks me every time we go out and I see just how much stuff Cheilin needs.
I think I am getting used to it now though. But mainly, I am sure Steve has gotten used to me packing half of the nursery.
Losing a pet
(From the Sept. 10 issue of the Citizen)
We have lost a member of our family. Rocky, the best Doberman pinscher anyone could ask for, had to be put to sleep last week.
Not really having pets growing up, losing a dog after having him be a part of my life for so many years was a new experience for me. It was one of the hardest things that I have ever had to do.
Even though Rocky was about 14 years old and his time really was up, it did not make it any easier to let go. My husband Steve adopted Rocky from Doberman Rescue when he was around 2 years old.
Rocky has only been in my life for the past six years, but in that time, he has become a part of my life and my family.
My son Deven has also had a difficult time dealing with losing Rocky. Rocky has lived with us since Deven was just 3 years old.
I think what was even more difficult than putting Rocky to sleep was seeing the condition he was in before we let him go.
He has always been a big dog, even for a Doberman, so it must have put too much pressure on his hip, which looks like it broke.
He could no longer walk or even sit up. What was heartbreaking was that he soiled himself because he could not even stand to do that.
We could get him in the house, and he settled in a corner in the garage. He looked so miserable that I broke out in tears every time I saw him.
He would not eat and drank very little water. Before this, Rocky was the most sweet, loving, playful dog that loved taking walks. In fact, we could not even say the word “walk” around him without him going nuts.
Food was another thing Rocky loved. He loved to eat. Deven has many memories of Rocky stealing one of his cookies or chasing him around the house trying to grab his ham. Those were really funny memories.
But the Rocky we knew was already gone. To see his personality gone like that was extremely heartbreaking.
He no longer responded to me, even when I used the magic work “walk.” He looked like he was so embarrassed about his condition.
Selfishly, we wanted to hold on to him as long as we could. No one wants to put their pet down, but once it got to this point, there was nothing else that could be done.
What made things worse was that my husband Steve was in Chicago for business that week, so I had to go through all of this alone.
I was able to load Rocky into the car with the help of our good friend Bobby, who came over to help me take care of Rocky. This was something that definitely could not wait until Steve came home.
The night before I took Rocky in to the vet, I made him a chicken dinner. He devoured an entire plate of chicken breast and bread.
It made me so happy to see him eating. It even gave me a small ounce of hope. The next day, I bought him Taco Bell soft tacos, kind of like his last meal. This time, he did not even turn his head.
That broke my heart, but at the same time, showed me that it really was Rocky’s time. It was nothing like the Rocky that would try to jump on the table and steal our food every time we had Taco Bell.
I think the most difficult thing was explaining things to Deven. I did not lie. I did not keep anything from him because I respect him enough to understand the situation.
He saw the condition Rocky was in and I explained that we could not let him continue to suffer. Deven was devastated but also understood why it had to be done.
I only had to deal with one breakdown with Deven yelling to me, “I don’t want Rocky to die!”
Deven went to the veterinarian with us, but opted to wait in the lobby while the procedure was done.
I stayed and comforted Rocky the whole time, telling him how much we loved him and that we would miss him. Then the vet looked at me and said, “He’s gone.” I am not ashamed to say that I bawled like a baby.
But after that, all of Rocky’s pain was gone. He will be able to have peace now.
Goodbye Rocky. You were the best dog anyone could ever ask for. We love you.
We have lost a member of our family. Rocky, the best Doberman pinscher anyone could ask for, had to be put to sleep last week.
Not really having pets growing up, losing a dog after having him be a part of my life for so many years was a new experience for me. It was one of the hardest things that I have ever had to do.
Even though Rocky was about 14 years old and his time really was up, it did not make it any easier to let go. My husband Steve adopted Rocky from Doberman Rescue when he was around 2 years old.
Rocky has only been in my life for the past six years, but in that time, he has become a part of my life and my family.
My son Deven has also had a difficult time dealing with losing Rocky. Rocky has lived with us since Deven was just 3 years old.
I think what was even more difficult than putting Rocky to sleep was seeing the condition he was in before we let him go.
He has always been a big dog, even for a Doberman, so it must have put too much pressure on his hip, which looks like it broke.
He could no longer walk or even sit up. What was heartbreaking was that he soiled himself because he could not even stand to do that.
We could get him in the house, and he settled in a corner in the garage. He looked so miserable that I broke out in tears every time I saw him.
He would not eat and drank very little water. Before this, Rocky was the most sweet, loving, playful dog that loved taking walks. In fact, we could not even say the word “walk” around him without him going nuts.
Food was another thing Rocky loved. He loved to eat. Deven has many memories of Rocky stealing one of his cookies or chasing him around the house trying to grab his ham. Those were really funny memories.
But the Rocky we knew was already gone. To see his personality gone like that was extremely heartbreaking.
He no longer responded to me, even when I used the magic work “walk.” He looked like he was so embarrassed about his condition.
Selfishly, we wanted to hold on to him as long as we could. No one wants to put their pet down, but once it got to this point, there was nothing else that could be done.
What made things worse was that my husband Steve was in Chicago for business that week, so I had to go through all of this alone.
I was able to load Rocky into the car with the help of our good friend Bobby, who came over to help me take care of Rocky. This was something that definitely could not wait until Steve came home.
The night before I took Rocky in to the vet, I made him a chicken dinner. He devoured an entire plate of chicken breast and bread.
It made me so happy to see him eating. It even gave me a small ounce of hope. The next day, I bought him Taco Bell soft tacos, kind of like his last meal. This time, he did not even turn his head.
That broke my heart, but at the same time, showed me that it really was Rocky’s time. It was nothing like the Rocky that would try to jump on the table and steal our food every time we had Taco Bell.
I think the most difficult thing was explaining things to Deven. I did not lie. I did not keep anything from him because I respect him enough to understand the situation.
He saw the condition Rocky was in and I explained that we could not let him continue to suffer. Deven was devastated but also understood why it had to be done.
I only had to deal with one breakdown with Deven yelling to me, “I don’t want Rocky to die!”
Deven went to the veterinarian with us, but opted to wait in the lobby while the procedure was done.
I stayed and comforted Rocky the whole time, telling him how much we loved him and that we would miss him. Then the vet looked at me and said, “He’s gone.” I am not ashamed to say that I bawled like a baby.
But after that, all of Rocky’s pain was gone. He will be able to have peace now.
Goodbye Rocky. You were the best dog anyone could ever ask for. We love you.
My little wild child
(From the Aug. 27 Issue of the Citizen)
Accidents happen, but that does not make it any easier to deal with, especially when they happen to our children.
My 11-month-old daughter Cheilin has been walking for a little more than a month now, and it has been a challenge (to put it lightly) to keep her out of trouble.
The first chance she gets, she will head to the stairs or the kitchen or the bathroom. She is very curious, naturally, and loves to explore.
Well, on this particular day, my 8-year-old son finally lost his top tooth. It had been loose for quite some time, and with the help of my mother, we were able to talk him into letting her remove it.
We were at my mom’s house, which is a two-story, so there is always the concern that Cheilin will get to the stairs.
I was in the living room with her when I heard Deven screaming from the bathroom. He finally had a look at himself with the missing tooth and freaked out. He also did not like seeing all of the blood.
My first instinct was to run over to check on him when I heard him scream without even thinking. I stayed in the bathroom with him for less than a minute, and when I came out, Cheilin was already up two steps.
I ran to her and called her name, and it must have startled her, because she fell forward and hit her face right on the edge of the step.
Then there was a long pause, she stopped, and then the wailing started. I picked her up and saw lots of blood coming out of her mouth.
It was a horrible thing to see on my baby. It even made Deven stop complaining about losing his tooth.
I guess her two bottom teeth pierced her upper lip. On top of that, she has been teething with her top four teeth starting to break through. Those teeth broke through her gum and so she was bleeding there too.
There was so much blood coming out of her mouth, and I felt like the worst mother for letting it happen right in front of me.
It took about 10 minutes to get the bleeding to stop, holding her down to apply pressure to her gums.
We have gates at my mom’s house, but the opening to her staircase is very wide, so we cannot gate that area. We usually fence her into a certain section of the house.
Since I was with her, I let her roam free, thinking I would be able to stop her. I ran to Deven without even thinking, when I should have known that Cheilin would run to the stairs the first chance she had.
Later that evening, when we got home, she hurt herself again. This time, she slipped and hit her head on the floor, which is tiled.
She had a new dress, still on the hanger, and she was holding it and slipped on it. Boom! Right on her head.
Now she had a fat lip and a bump/bruise on her head. But it does not end here.
I decided to take her to the family room, where there is carpet. I thought she would be safer there. I was wrong.
She likes to walk over to the piano, which is in the family room, and hit the keys. She has done this plenty of times without ever hurting herself, but of course, she picked today to trip.
Boom again. She hit her head again on the piano. At that point, I think I was ready to put her to bed just so she would stop hurting herself.
I guess it was just one of those days. I know babies get hurt, but man, I just felt awful. With her fat lip and bumps and bruises, she looked like she got into a scuffle.
Parents cannot be careless when it comes to caring for their children, but on that same note, we are only human. We just have to accept that accidents happen and have the peace of mind knowing that we do everything we can to keep them healthy and safe.
I think the hardest part is knowing that it doesn’t end here. Between Deven and Cheilin, and am sure there will be many more bumps and bruises to come. Just please God, no broken bones!
Accidents happen, but that does not make it any easier to deal with, especially when they happen to our children.
My 11-month-old daughter Cheilin has been walking for a little more than a month now, and it has been a challenge (to put it lightly) to keep her out of trouble.
The first chance she gets, she will head to the stairs or the kitchen or the bathroom. She is very curious, naturally, and loves to explore.
Well, on this particular day, my 8-year-old son finally lost his top tooth. It had been loose for quite some time, and with the help of my mother, we were able to talk him into letting her remove it.
We were at my mom’s house, which is a two-story, so there is always the concern that Cheilin will get to the stairs.
I was in the living room with her when I heard Deven screaming from the bathroom. He finally had a look at himself with the missing tooth and freaked out. He also did not like seeing all of the blood.
My first instinct was to run over to check on him when I heard him scream without even thinking. I stayed in the bathroom with him for less than a minute, and when I came out, Cheilin was already up two steps.
I ran to her and called her name, and it must have startled her, because she fell forward and hit her face right on the edge of the step.
Then there was a long pause, she stopped, and then the wailing started. I picked her up and saw lots of blood coming out of her mouth.
It was a horrible thing to see on my baby. It even made Deven stop complaining about losing his tooth.
I guess her two bottom teeth pierced her upper lip. On top of that, she has been teething with her top four teeth starting to break through. Those teeth broke through her gum and so she was bleeding there too.
There was so much blood coming out of her mouth, and I felt like the worst mother for letting it happen right in front of me.
It took about 10 minutes to get the bleeding to stop, holding her down to apply pressure to her gums.
We have gates at my mom’s house, but the opening to her staircase is very wide, so we cannot gate that area. We usually fence her into a certain section of the house.
Since I was with her, I let her roam free, thinking I would be able to stop her. I ran to Deven without even thinking, when I should have known that Cheilin would run to the stairs the first chance she had.
Later that evening, when we got home, she hurt herself again. This time, she slipped and hit her head on the floor, which is tiled.
She had a new dress, still on the hanger, and she was holding it and slipped on it. Boom! Right on her head.
Now she had a fat lip and a bump/bruise on her head. But it does not end here.
I decided to take her to the family room, where there is carpet. I thought she would be safer there. I was wrong.
She likes to walk over to the piano, which is in the family room, and hit the keys. She has done this plenty of times without ever hurting herself, but of course, she picked today to trip.
Boom again. She hit her head again on the piano. At that point, I think I was ready to put her to bed just so she would stop hurting herself.
I guess it was just one of those days. I know babies get hurt, but man, I just felt awful. With her fat lip and bumps and bruises, she looked like she got into a scuffle.
Parents cannot be careless when it comes to caring for their children, but on that same note, we are only human. We just have to accept that accidents happen and have the peace of mind knowing that we do everything we can to keep them healthy and safe.
I think the hardest part is knowing that it doesn’t end here. Between Deven and Cheilin, and am sure there will be many more bumps and bruises to come. Just please God, no broken bones!
Monday, October 20, 2008
Children, the greatest comfort
Losing a friend is never easy, but after my friend Jamie passed away last week, I found the greatest comfort in my children.
Through all of my sadness and heartache, my son Deven and my daughter Cheilin still managed to make me smile.
Deven is only 8 years old, but his understanding of the situation made me proud. I told him what had happened and that I needed him to be supportive and to help me out a bit.
He was sympathetic and never complained when Iwas busy and could not be home because I was meeting with friends or when we could not go get the ice cream I promised or when he had to wait to go costume shopping.
“It’s OK mommy,” he would say. And I hate to admit it, but he said those words more times than he should have this past week.
And his silly personality still managed to make me smile or laugh during moments when I did not think it was possible.
He gave me hugs and kisses when I needed them, and knew when it was not appropriate to be silly. He listened while I talked about Jamie and was caring.
The only other time he remembers seeing me cry was when our dog Rocky was put to sleep last month.
Deven really made me proud. He is already developing into a great man.
And Cheilin did not have to do anything to cheer me up. Regardless of how I felt, all she had to do was walk by me and smile and she would warm my heart.
I still cannot believe sometimes just how much joy a small little baby can bring. Times like these are when I truly need to hug my children and hold them close.
There was so much comfort in my heart when I picked up Cheilin and held her. The smell of her hair and the way she felt just brought me a huge amount of solace.
I was amazed by how much I clung to my children during this time. Deven and Cheilin truly have been my greatest comfort.
No words can really describe all of the emotions I have been going through, but on that note, no words can really describe how my children make me feel either.
The love, joy, comfort, frustration, fear and stress I feel for and from my children all compile into the amazing feeling of motherhood.
They have been my rock throughout everything. My children and my husband Steve have consoled me more than I could have ever asked. The thing is, I did not have to ask.
I guess the greatest cure for sadness and grief is love. It has been for me.
Through all of my sadness and heartache, my son Deven and my daughter Cheilin still managed to make me smile.
Deven is only 8 years old, but his understanding of the situation made me proud. I told him what had happened and that I needed him to be supportive and to help me out a bit.
He was sympathetic and never complained when Iwas busy and could not be home because I was meeting with friends or when we could not go get the ice cream I promised or when he had to wait to go costume shopping.
“It’s OK mommy,” he would say. And I hate to admit it, but he said those words more times than he should have this past week.
And his silly personality still managed to make me smile or laugh during moments when I did not think it was possible.
He gave me hugs and kisses when I needed them, and knew when it was not appropriate to be silly. He listened while I talked about Jamie and was caring.
The only other time he remembers seeing me cry was when our dog Rocky was put to sleep last month.
Deven really made me proud. He is already developing into a great man.
And Cheilin did not have to do anything to cheer me up. Regardless of how I felt, all she had to do was walk by me and smile and she would warm my heart.
I still cannot believe sometimes just how much joy a small little baby can bring. Times like these are when I truly need to hug my children and hold them close.
There was so much comfort in my heart when I picked up Cheilin and held her. The smell of her hair and the way she felt just brought me a huge amount of solace.
I was amazed by how much I clung to my children during this time. Deven and Cheilin truly have been my greatest comfort.
No words can really describe all of the emotions I have been going through, but on that note, no words can really describe how my children make me feel either.
The love, joy, comfort, frustration, fear and stress I feel for and from my children all compile into the amazing feeling of motherhood.
They have been my rock throughout everything. My children and my husband Steve have consoled me more than I could have ever asked. The thing is, I did not have to ask.
I guess the greatest cure for sadness and grief is love. It has been for me.
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