Dayjamas

Kid quote of the day

"Yes, I'm warm enough.  See, I'm wearing my life jacket."

-Kiku, pointing to her quilted vest

J'aime le chocolat

This morning in the shower I was thinking about a bakery I used to frequent several times a week when I was in high school.  I believe it was called Au Cocolat and they produced the most wonderful chocolate croissants.  Those were the days when I could eat anything I wanted without a care in the world, like an entire pint of Ben & Jerry's Cherry Garcia in one sitting.  I miss those days.  Senior year I would take the bus to school and grab a chocolate pastry and large mocha at one of the kiosks downtown before cruising into English class five minutes late.  Every day.  I would sit at my desk with sleep in my eyes, munching on the chocolate goodness and sipping coffee.  My teacher never commented on my tardiness so I never tried very hard to be on time.  This was the same teacher who gave me A's on my papers but rarely left comments in the margins. I always wondered whether he actually read any of them. 

These days I've had to curb my chocolate intake because I've become very sensitive to sugar.  I often get spacey and headachey after eating something sweet, and sometimes I'll even experience cold symptoms a few hours later.  I've read that sugar lowers the immune system and it certainly feels true for me.  Add Kiku to that list.  The few times we've allowed her to devour an entire ice cream cone her eyes got all glassy and she turned into Godzilla.  Sugar is definitely not her friend but she begs for it several times a day.  She will even refuse to eat breakfast right before a birthday party because she knows cake and ice cream are party staples and she wants to make sure there's room in her stomach. 

Even though we do our best to limit her sugar intake, it's a tough job navigating through the Licorice Forest.  Donuts, candy, ice cream, and cookies abound, and can be seen in the hands of young children everywhere.  Why would Kiku want to eat a piece of fruit if the kids at the next table are snacking on cupcakes?  In her eyes, it just isn't fair, and she's not taking it sitting down. 

I've spent a lot of time reading labels in the grocery store since becoming aware of Kiku's sugar sensitivity and I'm amazed at the staggering amounts of sugar that food companies load into their products.  Even many of the "healthy" products found at natural food stores (i.e. Whole Foods) are teeming with the stuff.  Cereal, yogurt, bread, the list goes on.  What grosses me out the most is the unnecessary amount of sugar found in products marketed to toddlers.  Don't even get me started on so-called "energy" bars. 

I'm thankful that more and more companies are using healthier alternatives like evaporated cane juice in their products, but the end result is usually the same in Kiku's case.  It doesn't matter if a cookie is loaded with cane juice or refined white sugar - Dr. Jekyll still turns into Mr. Hyde. 

At this point we're taking the "everything in moderation" route and have designated two nights a week as dessert night.  I've been baking a lot of healthy treats with the help of cookbooks like Deceptively Delicious, so Kiku's been ingesting a lot of pureed veggies unbeknownst to her.  Kiku still begs for sweets every day and it's usually a battle, but I'm hoping that one day she'll just stop craving it.  If it happened with TV ("I don't like watching videos anymore"), maybe it can happen with sugar! 

Sweet tooth

Kiku thinks about candy and sweets 24/7 (when she's not thinking about mermaids).

"Mama, can I have a lollipop?  May I pleeeeze have a lollipop, pleeeeze?"

"I have a great idea, let's eat some cookies!"

"Is it my birthday tomorrow?  Can I have a chocolate cake with strawberries and vanilla frosting when it's my birthday?"

"My favorite thing about the party was the cake."

"Is it dessert night?"

"How about hot chocolate this morning?"

"I'd like Halloween candy for dinner, please."

"I don't like broccoli, but I like chocolate."

Potty down

Potty training is going smashingly!  Kiku is now at the point where she'll tell us that "poop" or "peep" are "coming out" before they actually make their appearance about 75% of the time.  Yesterday she wore underwear for two entire hours and didn't have an accident!  I'm looking forward to saying goodbye to the whole diaper thing, but I'm also shuttering at the idea of having to stop on the side of the highway and hang my daughters tush out the side for her to pee (excuse me, "peep") or worse.  Best to invest in one of those portable potties designed for the car. 

Ten little fingers

Kiku recently learned how to count on her fingers.  It's so damn cute and my heart melts when she does it.  Whenever a counting opportunity comes up she'll hold both of her hands in front of her and try to lift the appropriate number of fingers.  But since she's not that coordinated with her hands yet, she'll often hold up too many or not enough.  I'm not sure if she learned this at preschool or from Sesame Street (or from us?), but it's one of the most delightful things to see as a parent.  I can't believe I just used the word delightful.

'cuz why?

Kiku has officially discovered "why?"  She asks it without warning, at any time of day.  It doesn't matter how many times we answer her question, or if there really isn't an answer to her question, she just keeps asking us "why?" because, oh, I don't know.  Because it's just so much...fun?

Kiku: Mama, can we go to the playground today?
Me: Sure, that sounds like a great idea.
Kiku: But WHY?
Me: Because it's a really nice day and the playground sounds like fun.
Kiku: 'Cuz WHY?
Me: I just told you, sweetheart.
Kiku: But 'cuz why, mama?

I have admit that I've been waiting for this day to come with lots of anticipation.  Excitement, even.  Don't ask me why!

Giving dairy the boot

I think Kiku has a sensitivity to dairy products.  I've had a hunch about this for a while now, and remember talking to her pediatrician about it when she was around 18 months old.  The doc said that a dairy allergy was unlikely because she wasn't exhibiting any of the usual symptoms, like a red ring around her bottom, or rashes on her face.  But today something interesting happened.  Kiku was in a great mood all morning, until she ate some yogurt during snack time.  About ten minutes later, Dr. Jekyll turned into Mr. Hyde.  It was like a switch was flipped and suddenly she was acting uncooperative, defiant, and irritable.  This has happened before, so many times before, but I'd never been able to attribute it to a specific food until today.  A light bulb finally came on in my head.

I've always felt like Kiku's personality changed when she turned one, which is when we introduced cows milk.  Since then she's become more serious and moody, and I've always had a sneaking suspicion that dairy was the culprit.  I know I should've listened to my gut and not dismissed the idea solely based on the opinion of her pediatrician. 

I've been doing some research on food sensitivities and she has many of the symptoms, like frequent ear infections, stuffiness, mood swings, irritability, hyperactivity, loud breathing during sleep, and the list goes on.  I suspect that sugar might also be partially responsible, so we're going to cut that down (or out altogether) as well.

As of tomorrow, Kiku is going to stop consuming dairy products for 21 days.  It's going to be a challenge to find alternatives, but I'm determined to make this happen.  If nothings changed after three weeks, then we'll cut out sugar and see how things go. 

The good ol' days

Last Friday Kiku came down with a virus and had to stay home from preschool.  She had a fever, a runny nose, and was terribly cranky.  I tried to keep her activity level down in order for her to get some rest, but it wasn't easy.  (She never wants to slow down, even when she's feeling miserable - a quality she gets from JJ who is exactly the same way.)  So I decided to put her crib mattress on the floor and let her jump to get her ya ya's out, and then managed to calm things down a bit with a few books, some playdough, and an episode of Sesame Street.  Three quarters of the way through the morning I noticed that Kiku's eyelids were getting heavy, plus she was running into things and tripping and falling more than usual.  I suggested that she go lie down and rest, but, true to form, she said, "no!  I'm ok!  I wanna play, Mama!"  So I let her continue with whatever she was doing (putting together an Easter egg party, I believe) since it was so close to naptime, but within five minutes she asked me if it was time to take a nap.  I couldn't believe it.  Kiku asking to take a nap?  And 15 minutes before her regular time?!  This could only mean one thing:  the girl was tired.  While we were going through her nap routine I felt relieved that she was finally going to get some rest, but a short lived feeling it was because she just wouldn't let herself sleep.  That's right, no napping occured.  She ended up spending some "quiet time" in her room, which was better than nothing I suppose, but the remainder of the afternoon was pretty miserable (for both of us).  When Kiku doesn't take a nap, she gets all wound up.  She bounces off the walls, has a hard time focusing, and lashes out with fingernails.  At about 4:45 pm, I put her in the crib to "take a break" after she did a few too many things that make parents want to bang their fists into pillows and scream.  She was out like a light, and slept until 3:30 AM.

The rest of the evening was bliss.  I'd forgotten what it felt like to cook in peace.  It was so relaxing to take my time and enjoy the process.  Dinner was calm.  I savored my food and was able to have an actual conversation with my husband.  It felt like the days before our intense child had joined the family. 

Normally, the period between cooking dinner and bed time is very chaotic and stressful.  Kiku usually demands my attention when I'm in the kitchen and asks to be picked up whenever I'm at the stove.  It's not enough to stand on a stool and watch, and rarely is she interested in helping me cook like so many other kids her age seem to enjoy doing.  No, she wants to be held.  JJ often tries to distract her with other things if he's home, but it's hard to pull her away.  She is persistent.

Dinnertime is tense.  Kiku will sit at the table for about ten minutes, doing any of the following:  pick at her food, constantly demand drinks she's not allowed to have (I knew it was a mistake to let her have a sip of soda that one time!), throw food she doesn't like on the floor, pour juice or milk onto the table, or bang her fork or spoon.  All the while we run interference, asking her to pick up what she's thrown on the floor, doing what we can to get her to stop banging, etc.  I can't remember the last time she ate a good dinner.  When she's done, she'll get down from the table and ask us to play with her, as she's not content to play by herself.  We tell her that we'll spend time with her when we're finished, but she still persists.  It doesn't help to set up an activity for her to do while she's waiting for us.   It doesn't help to include her in converstation at the table.  We've tried turning on the TV, but she gets bored after a few minutes and flips it off. 

Experiencing a calm evening last week allowed me to realize just how miserable we all are at dinnertime, so I've decided that it's time for us to try something new.  I'm going to start giving her dinner early, around 5:00 or 5:30, and then offer a small snack before bed.  JJ and I can eat later, after she goes to bed.  We'll see how it goes.  I have a hunch that our normal dinnertime of 6:30ish might be too late for her, and I've noticed that she sometimes sleeps better when she's had some protein at the end of the night.  I'm hoping this might help improve her mood in the mornings as well.  Lately she's been waking up on the irritable side, and our morning routine (changing diapers, getting dressed, brushing teeth) has been nothing short of a struggle. 

I'm crossing my fingers.

Tilden Park

Soakin' up some California sunshine.

Fickle not pickle

This morning Kiku couldn’t decide what to have for breakfast, changing her mind three times.  I told her she was being fickle.

    “Oh, yeah, I wanna pickle!”

    “No, not pickle, fickle.”

    “I want a pickle, mama!”

    “Fickle.  It means that you’re always changing your mind.  You can’t decide what you like or dislike.”

    “Pickle!”

Kiku wasn’t the only one feeling fickle today.  Last night the three of us returned from a five-day trip to the bay area, and I woke up this morning feeling somewhat unsure about whether I really wanted to move back.  This is after making the BIG DECISION to move a few months ago...in the dead of winter.  (My advice to anyone considering moving away from Seattle: never decide in the winter.) The trip itself went smoothly and it was great to spend time with good friends and family, but I was a little overwhelmed by the whole place. 

I’ve definitely crossed over. 

I’m not sure when it happened, but I know I didn’t feel this way when we visited last summer.  Sometime between then and now I became a Seattlelite and stopped being a bay area girl.  When I stepped off the plane last week, it didn't feel like home.  I felt like a visitor.  I didn't "get it" anymore.  People seemed to be racing everywhere, whether by car or foot.  It felt edgier, grimier, more stressed out, more me-first.  I even found myself disliking the intensity of the sun.  It seemed too bright, and I practically had to glue my sunglasses to my face.   A few mentally unstable types approached Kiku and I (this never happens in Seattle) while we were out and about.  There was the odd guy who offered Kiku a dot-shaped sticker, and then followed us into the grocery store to offer her more stickers.  Harmless enough (probably), but my mind couldn’t get around the possibility of the dots being laced with LSD. Then there was the time when we were walking down the street in a somewhat upscale neighborhood and a tattered woman covered in sores asked me if I knew where the Laundromat was.  I told her that I didn’t live there and she proceeded to violently scream, “no one does laundry around here!” to me and everyone else around.

These kinds of interactions never used to faze me.  It was just part of my everyday environment and it felt normal.  Seeing someone pace back and forth while talking to themselves used to be normal.  Having a homeless person bark at me or call me Yoko was normal.  Now it feels threatening.  I’m sure it’s partially due to my maternal instinct to protect my daughter.  But even so, I’ve gotten soft. 

Seattle is nice, calm, slow paced, easy, clean, and, well, normal.  People (including the bus drivers) smile and say hello, drivers aren’t aggressive, rushing isn’t de rigueur, and there are fewer people flying their freak flags (or at least they’re quieter about it.)

I feel calmer and safer in Seattle.  My mind is clearer.  It’s easier to live here and there are fewer things to worry about.  So why move?  If this is such paradise, why do we want to go back to the land of over stimulation?  Up until recently, there have been three main reasons. 

1.    The weather
2.    Missing loved ones
3.    The blandness factor

But now I'm getting more used to the weather, and the only months that really get to me are Dec-Feb.  It might be more bearable if we can get away to a sunny spot every winter.  I certainly miss my friends and family, and I don't want these people to be strangers to Kiku, but what if we committed to visiting three or four times a year?  Maybe that woud be ok.  Then there's the blandness factor.  Over the past four years I've found myself craving more interesting, stimulating interactions with people who were less reserved.  But now I'm wondering if it matters so much anymore.  Large urban areas are interesting but they come with a price. 

I can't believe I'm actually feeling this way.  I've bitched about Seattle for four years.  It's been hard to adjust to the culture and I haven't felt like I've wanted to stay for the long run.  And now this is happening.  I'm starting to, umm, like it (maybe even love it?) here.  Although it could be that I just need to get used to bay area living all over again.  You know, grow back a thicker skin and adjust my "normal" meter.  The question is, do I want to? 

I'm just too damn fickle.