Family Portraits

I’ve never been one for being in photos. The camera is not kind to me. Point one at me and I’m likely to rush at you with an outstretched palm blocking my face. No, I don’t like having pictures taken of me. I’d rather make strange or silly faces instead of actually trying to look proper. This way, if the pictures don’t come out right, I can attribute it to the fact that I was doing it on purpose. Nothing more embarrassing than trying to look all suave for the camera and then finding out that you’re not the GQ model you thought you were.

Until recently, I’ve never taken a family portrait before. I’m not talking about a casual family picture taken while on vacation, I mean a professional portrait done at a photo studio. I remember going to friends’ houses, seeing their family portraits and laughing at them, thinking how silly they looked. But at the same time, there was part of me that wanted to also have a nice picture of all of us together. Those feelings were quickly brushed off, however, when I’d remind myself that I don’t do photos. Thankfully, my parents never brought up the idea either.

Even after Caitlyn was born, I would still have this attitude of not wanting to be in photos, but I’m getting better. Most of the time, it’s out of reluctance and knowing that I should be in at least a handful of photos so our child would know what her daddy looked like. It was also after Caitlyn was born that I decided we should get some proper family photos of us together.

Our photo package was bought 2 ½ years ago. We didn’t get into the studio until this past summer. During that span of time, we received countless number of calls reminding us that we still hadn't taken our photos yet, and in reciprocation, we cancelled photo sessions countless number of times for no real reason other than we were too lazy to go in that day. And then another five months passed before we decided to go back to the photos studio to look at and choose the photos we wanted. If it wasn’t apparent to you before, it should be crystal clear to you now that we are no slouches when it comes to procrastinating.

Out of 300 plus photos that were taken, I deemed only 10 truly acceptable. Bad photographer or too picky? Either way, it worked out because 10 was the number of pictures in our package. So, without further ado, Caitlyn's and our first family photo shoot!

Party like a rock star

This is Caitlyn speaking

 

Sunny-side up?

Why am I in a cupboard?

 

Knock knock

Baby Chun-li

 

Group hug

I'm the Queen B around here!

What are you pointing at?

Is it naptime yet?

Mission Accomplished

 
A miracle is described as an effect or extraordinary event in the physical world that surpasses all known human or natural powers and is ascribed to a supernatural cause. While ‘miracle’ might be too strong of a word to describe what Caitlyn has accomplished, it’s not too far off the mark.

I’m of course talking about Caitlyn being potty trained. We actually stopped putting in any effort and instead, opted for a laissez faire type approach. I put faith in what I've read online about children learning whenever they're good and ready. No point in rushing when one's not ready, right? I was thinking it would be at least another year before she figured things out herself.

And then the unthinkable happened last week. Caitlyn wanted to pee so the wife took her to the toilet to sit. Usually what happens is she’ll sit there for a few seconds and then ask to have a diaper put on her. So imagine our surprise when she actually peed in the toilet.

Of course, I thought this was an anomaly, a one-time event, but ever since that day, Caitlyn has consistently been going to pee and poo in the toilet. Each time is just as exciting as the first for me. Every time I hear the tinkle of pee, the biggest smile just spreads across my face and I clap my hands in excitement and wonderment. Truly this is a miracle in its own right. Our little girl has finally grown up.

In honor of this momentous occasion, I was feeling compelled to tell another one of my pee stories, but after some thought, I think I'll let Caitlyn have the spotlight to herself for the time being. She deserves it. My time to shine can come later.

Halloween Fell on a Saturday this Year

Trick or treating is something just about every kid in America experiences. In Taiwan, it’s a little different. While Halloween is something most people know about and elementary schools let students dress up, going door to door trick or treating is something that doesn’t really happen. And that’s a real shame, because I think it’s something just as important as dressing up.

That’s why, when the wife’s niece brought up the idea of organizing a trick or treating event for this past Saturday, I jumped at the idea. My wife’s parents, her two older sisters, younger brother, cousins, and us all live within a 2 minute walking radius of each other. The idea was to have the kids go from home to home collecting treats, with a total of 6 stops.

We got a pumpkin outfit for Caitlyn and while it wasn’t mandated that adults dress up, it was encouraged. I’m not really one for elaborate costumes; in fact, my shining moment probably came in preschool when my mom made me a Batman costume. It was from one of those template patterns you can buy at a fabric store and then cut and sew yourself. It looked nothing like the costume Batman wore, but thankfully, my five-year-old self wasn’t really self-conscious yet, and I thought it pretty cool.

Not wanting to be a party pooper, I convinced the wife to wear a skeleton shirt we both had. Never mind that it was actually a shirt promoting Kimlan soy sauce, the point was that it had bones on it and bones are Halloweeny. More importantly, we wouldn't have to go out now and look for costumes. Extremely enticing for lazy people like us.

While our trick or treating event might not have been exactly how we'd do it in America, it was pretty close. More importantly, the kids all had a blast, and we had a nice dinner party afterwards with lots of catered bbq. Maybe next year, if we do this again, I’ll actually put some effort into putting together a costume. At least I decorated the house. That counts for something, right? 

Grandma and her brood

Treats in a box

 

A princess & her minions

Pharaoh Kimi

 

2nd stop of the night

Don't be scared. I'm a friendly witch.

 

Help! The Pharaoh's got me!

5th stop of the night

 

Let the party begin!

Strike a pose

 

Twin skeletons and a pumpkin

Mind if I hitch a ride?

 

Snow White and her pumpkin

Time for grub

Who Needs Fingernails

After I got the hand, foot, and mouth disease (HFMD), which is a form of the enterovirus, from Caitlyn a few months ago, I figured that the worst of it was behind me. My blisters have all peeled away and healed. Even my bout with epididymitis is all but a distant memory. Things were starting to look up. Little did I know that HFMD was far from done with me. As an added bonus and parting gift, HFMD has now decided to make my fingernails start falling off. You read that correctly. My fingernails are falling off.

Several weeks ago, the wife noticed that Caitlyn’s fingernails were slowly cracking and splitting apart at the base. Not knowing what was happening, she took her to our pediatrician, who said that HFMD was the culprit. It turns out that in certain cases, HFMD can cause the fingernails to fall off. Sure enough, within a week, Caitlyn’s nails were slowly coming off one by one. Thankfully, this didn’t seem to bother her too much, with more of her energy directed at picking at her fingernails and requesting them to be cut.

Around the same time, I began to see a weird discoloration in my fingernails. At first, I wasn’t sure if HFMD was affecting me too, but when one nail completely came off and the other nails slowly beginning to chip off, there’s really no doubt that I have to be one of the unluckiest fellows in the world.

As I said before, when you find out that your child has HFMD, get the heck out of Dodge. You, your epididymis, and your fingernails will all thank me later for it. 

One down, four more to go!

The One

There is one question that is undoubtedly asked to all mothers after they've had their first child, and one we've been asked many, many times. "So, when are you guys planning on having another one?" If the response is, "We're happy with just one," this is followed by gasps and looks of shock and repeated demands of "Why?! For the love of god, why?!"

Is one really the loneliest number? Let's pretend for a minute that we were to only have one child. Would that really be the end of the world? Who's to say that having two or more children is better?

The wife has constantly stated that the reason she would want another child is so that Caitlyn won’t be lonely or grow up weird. Yes, the wife thinks only children grow up weird. I’m not sure where she exactly got this idea from, but she claims she’s read several reports that back this up, though she has yet to show me any of these purported claims. Therefore, I’ve taken it upon myself to delve into and settle this matter once and for all.

There’s an unfortunate stereotype that only children are lonely, selfish, maladjusted, spoiled brats. And weird if we’re to believe what the wife says. However, I am happy to say that none of this is true. There has been plenty of actual research in peer-reviewed journals that proves otherwise.

The most important finding is that an only child is not much different than children with siblings. In fact, one of the most marked differences is also a positive. Only children have been found to score higher in measures of intelligence and achievement. This is primarily because of greater parental attention. In short, they tend to do better in school and get more education than other kids. This could be our one shot to get our kid into Harvard.

Interestingly enough, while only children lag behind their counterparts when it comes to social skills when they’re young, they are actually more likely to make friends than children with siblings by the time they’re in middle school. Siblings are more prone to just sticking with each other.

I’m not saying that I only want to have one child. But I'm not saying that I'm ruling it out either. I just want to advocate that there is nothing wrong with that if indeed that is what we or anyone else were to decide. Parents shouldn't be ostracized for saying they are content with only having one child. It doesn't make you a bad or selfish parent. Caitlyn won’t grow up weird or be an outcast if she doesn’t have a brother or sister. Maybe a bit quirky, but that’s more than a-ok in my book. Just some food for thought.

Outing with the grandparents

Having fun at amusement park

I win!

Is that an automatic or stick

 

Lonely?

Let's have 6 more babies!

3 better than 1?

The more, the merrier

My Way or the Highway

Ever since my parents came to visit us about three weeks ago, my philosophical approach of “my way or the highway,” for dealing with Caitlyn has been indefinitely put on hold.

While she used to be pretty good about feeding herself and going to bed, Caitlyn has now gotten quite lazy and will now whine until the wife feeds her. She also refuses to sleep at night now unless the wife lies down with her until she falls asleep. Both of these have left me, to say the least, a bit displeased.

Whenever I bring this up, the wife will tell me to take care of things. Taking care of things in my book involves letting Caitlyn sit in her seat until she decides to feed herself and dropping her off in her bed and promptly leaving after reading a goodnight story. Unfortunately, my tactic also involves prolonged periods of crying and screaming, both of which are frowned upon by the wife and Grandma.

When I first became a parent, I vowed that I would not be like my mom and dad. If you ask me about my childhood, the first thing that pops to my mind is all the beatings I used to receive. And the thing is, I don’t even remember  being that bad of a kid. I’m sure most kids got a few licks here and there growing up. After all, if you spare the rod, you spoil the child, right? But there’s a difference between receiving a few light taps on your hand and having your bottom lit up like the Fourth of July where you end up with welts and bruises all over your arms and legs.

My parents’ favorite instrument for dishing out punishment was this feather duster whose handle was made of bamboo. I swear I despised that feather duster as a kid. I remember trying several times to break the darn thing, but never having enough strength to carry out the task. The most I could do was pluck out the feathers from it and be satisfied with that. In order to not let the neighbors know what was going on, my parents would turn on the radio nice and loud so no one would hear my screams and cries as I ran through the house trying to escape from their clutches.

I’m not saying that my parents are horrible people, in fact, they are very lovely, generous people, but their method of disciplining was definitely misguided and I’m sure has affected who I am today. That is why I refuse to hit my child. I know what it’s like and I know how it’s affected my relationship with my parents. That feeling will never go away, no matter how much I want to forgive or forget.

However, my mom commented the other day how similarly I treat Caitlyn like she used to treat me. Excuse me? I don’t see a feather duster in my hand ready to strike my child. But the more I think about it, maybe I am acting a bit like my parents. While I am not hitting Caitlyn, maybe trying to force her to do what I want isn’t the best way. I don’t yell at my child and I am very patient when it comes to dealing with her, but could I be causing a rift in our relationship by being so demanding and wanting things done my way?

I just think back to all the Super Nanny episodes I’ve watched. In the case of a child not wanting to go to sleep, Super Nanny’s advice was always to let the child cry it out, and if they happened to leave their bed, to put them back in. Even if you had to do this 100 times, you kept at it to let the child know you meant business. Of course, this was all done in a calm and patient manner. Eventually, the child would get the picture and do what was asked of them because they knew they had no other choice.

That’s the same philosophy I’ve tried to use with Caitlyn. I want her to know I mean business. I think that’s partly why she’s so much better behaved when it’s just me and her. She knows I won’t cave in to her demands. But when the wife’s there and now Grandma, it’s difficult for me to maintain this persona and it’s beginning to make me question the way I do things.

As my mom likes to say, is it so wrong to feed Caitlyn every now and then? Is it so bad for the wife to lie with Caitlyn until she falls asleep? Is it so wrong to give Caitlyn what she wants? Isn’t it better than letting her cry and get upset?

I seriously don’t know. But maybe I shouldn’t have such a stranglehold on things. Maybe it’s OK to let go sometimes. Just sometimes. And maybe just until Grandma leaves town.

Four-day vacation!

Sharing a smile

 

Who's taller?

Is my food ready yet?

 

Here fishy, fishy

Grandparents are the best

 

Taking a dip with Grandpa

Say, "Three!"

A Tale of Two Frustrations

It’s been about 3 weeks since I first became familiar with epididymitis and after 3 weeks of antibiotics and medication, there’s still a persistent dull ache whenever I move or touch my testicular region. I still hold out on the small glimmer of hope that the pain and swelling will eventually go away like the doctor said. However, forums about epididymitis paint a completely different picture. Take a look at just a few of the quotes I pulled off the Internet from various people talking about one of the worst things to plague man.

“I’ve had it for almost 2 years. 2 years of agony, depression, pain and worrying.”

“This is the WORST pain in my whole life...I have balled my eyes out for days just wishing the pain would let up...I just can’t imagine going weeks, months or even years.”

“One day, I almost passed out while driving because the pain in my left testicle was so severe.”

“OMG!...I have had this for 3 days now and now I’m scared to death after hearing you all having it for months and years...Does anyone else feel the worst pain in your lives because of this??”

“Tell you what, I’d jump at the chance of removing my testicle because it's nothing but trouble. They could always freeze sperms if you wanted children, but I don’t fancy this on and off for the rest of my life.”

“Removing the testicle may be a waste of time. One urologist told me some men still have pain. Now I just live with the pain.”

Maybe instead of feeling depressed and frustrated, I should feel thankful that my pain hasn’t reached such a level as to make me want to cut off my testicle.

Speaking of frustration, I’ve been having the same feeling when dealing with our quest to get Caitlyn potty trained. Good news is she now knows not to pee when she’s in her underwear. At first, I thought she was trying to hold her pee in because she would go hours without having to use the bathroom. But it turns out that lots of kids can go long stretches without peeing. I read online about a two-year-old who could hold his bladder from 7:00 at night until 7:00 in the morning. That is mighty impressive.

Say, you wouldn’t be interested in hearing one of my many stories about urine, would you? That's right, I have just as many stories about pee as I do with fecal matter.

In high school, my friends and I would go to the library at nights to “study.” Most of the time would be wasted chatting and horsing around. One time, I joked with a friend that I was going to ask his sister out. He pretended to get angry and put me in choke-hold. Or maybe he wasn’t pretending because he never let go of the hold and I passed out.

When I woke up, I was in a pool of yellow liquid. For a moment, I thought that maybe someone’s drink had spilled on top of me, but then I slowly realized that I had peed in my pants. Not uncommon because the bladder relaxes when one passes out. Long story short, my friend apologized profusely and cleaned up all the pee on the floor. No way I couldn’t forgive him after that.

Anyway, enough about me. Back to Caitlyn. If she does need to go pee, she’ll tell us to switch her into a diaper. When she says this, we immediately take her to her the potty. In order to get her to sit on it for an extended period of time, we bribe her with the iPad. However, she’ll just play with it until she’s tired of it and then request to have a diaper put on. Come to think of it, that’s a pretty crafty way for her to get in some playing time without actually having to go potty. Even a spiffy new toilet hasn’t really convinced her to go.

So that’s where we’re stuck now. Any helpful suggestions? 

I'll sit, but I won't pee!

Where's my iPad?