Mama on Call, Papa on Duty

Any spouse of a doctor will know the dread that comes with the phrase: "It's my call weekend."  And so it was this last weekend for us.  As Sumie went into days 6 and 7 of her 12 day work week, I entered two days of kid-ruled chaos.  All call weekends have their challenges, but this one was something special.

Now those of you who are familiar with Mimi and Kuri may think that a weekend alone with the two would be like this...

...but it's far more like this.

Kuri (in toddler body English): Smell my butt!
Mimi: I'm not going to smell your butt!  Papa, Kuri wants me to smell his butt!

Our Saturday began with gymnastics.  Mimi was either absurdly excited to go, or had somehow picked up some crack on the way home from preschool and decided to smoke it up before we left the house.  All went well, despite a bandaid falling off and consistent cries of "My foot hurts!" as she scampered around the floor giggling madly.

Upon getting home, we put Kuri down for his morning nap.  Mimi had a project for me.  We took apart her toy car and then put it back together.  This we got from Great Grandma on a recent visit.  It's a Playskool toy from the 60s or 70s that you can completely take apart and then build again using plastic nuts and bolts.  I have no idea why they don't make toys like this anymore.  It doesn't make any noise, it doesn't take any batteries, and it actually teaches a child how to think mechanically. I wish we had more like this on the shelves today.

After working on the car, it was time to dive into the activity Mimi had been requesting all week: building her Gingerbread house from Trader Joe's.  Sumie had picked up a kit a few days back, and all Mimi could think about was putting it together.  As Kuri slept, we applied icing and built the structure.

Mim got the hang of it pretty quickly.  Before long she was laying down icing as mortar and applying jelly beans, candy bats, and bones everywhere.

As soon as Kuri woke, Mimi invoked the other activity she'd been promised this weekend: "Pumpkin Patch!"  We drove down to a nearby pumpkin patch that had the requisite bouncy houses (this was Mimi's request).  Mimi enjoyed bouncing...

...and hurtling down the slide.

I have to say that I'm pretty proud of her.  In many of the bouncy houses there were gangs of 3-6 year old boys doing what they do best - going crazy.  Mimi simply fought her way through and made it to the slides like a champ.

Kuri was a bit more stoic.  Too young to take part in the bouncy fun, he hung out with Papa and reflected on life's bigger questions, like "Will I really be able to eat this entire biscuit?"

Sunday morning we braved a trip to Costco.  After Kuri's first nap, it was time to head out.  That meant changing him and, unfortunately, Kuri has learned to roll, scoot, and scamper faster than my hands can fly.  Of course, he does this most expertly when naked from the waist down.  I've found hats are a good distraction.  At least for a few seconds.

Soon we were ready to go.  Kuri pointed the way.  He often points the way these days. Unfortunately, the way is usually just the ceiling.

 Just as we were stepping out the door, Mimi insisted that she couldn't go to Costco without a cape.  This turned into an entire outfit by the end.  Here she is with her cape, sunglasses, and homemade wallet (in which there was, sadly, no money).

The shopping went well all the way through check-out.  Then, things started turning ugly.  As we walked by the concession stand, Mimi insisted that she needed a smoothie.  Looking at the line 20 people deep and moving with the speed of a lethargic glacier, I decided we didn't.  Mimi, as you might imagine, felt differently.  By the time we got to the car, this is what I was pushing.  Utter disregard for the hard working Papa.

That was just the start of the troubles, though.  We got in the car and I turned it over.  No problem there.  I put it in reverse, and the engine died.  I started her up again.  Same thing.  I tried drive.  Same thing.  My little BMW wagon has served us faithfully for over 5 years, but that Sunday, she just wasn't having it.  Eventually, by holding down the brake and gunning the engine to get the car into drive or reverse without stalling, and then running all stop signs, we limped home.  I flew into the driveway, cursing that my car had an automatic transmission (not my choice, but that's another post). Still, despite nearly being stranded, I was proud of my little car.  She was hurting, but saw us home.

Once back, Kuri decided it was time to call Mama.  He picked up the nearest remote control...

...and then held it against his ear.  I was kind of amazed at this, but also thankful.  If he's pretending to make a call, at least that probably means Sumie and I are using our phones to talk with other people more than browse the interwebs when we're around the kids.

When Sumie got home, it had been a rough weekend, but we'd all survived.  We enjoyed dinner together and attempted to get an early night's sleep.  Monday found me taking the little BMW into the shop (thankfully, it's not a terminal case) and getting a rental to tide us over.

This afternoon, I finished the principle writing on a massive project I'd been developing for work.  To celebrate, and to get groceries for dinner, I ditched the rental and took Kuri for his first ride in the Porsche.

He was pretty startled when the engine fired up, but overall, I think he liked it.

Driving Kuri around in the 911, I realized just how many firsts he's had in his first year that I didn't experience until 5, 10, 20, or even 30 years later.  He's travelled throughout the US.  He's been to Japan.  He's learning two languages.  He's even ridden in a BMW and a Porsche.  I have a few days left before his first birthday for the two of us to share our first drive in a Ferrari.  So, if anyone can help us out, please let me know.

The weekend was rough, but for all the challenges, I still had a great time.  I came away happy.  I think that's one of the great (but still painful) aspects of call weekends.  They remind you just how painful parenting can be, but also remind you that you'd never have it any other way.

World's Best Dad, Until...

I have a feeling every dad has been through this.

You're the world's greatest dad.  The kid is ecstatic, you're happy, everyone is laughing.  And then, everything falls apart.

I think that's the nature of dads.  It's not always stable.  The highs are always punctuated by the "What the hell were you thinking"s.   At least that's been my case.

Tonight, I was doing well.  I had just fed Kuri and tucked him into bed.  He'd only needed one readjustment of his burp-cloth and he was off to dreamland.  I came out of his room feeling good. Mimi wanted to play.  More accurately, she wanted to swing.

Now, I've done this a hundred times.  I hold Mimi by the hands and the wrists, swing her between my legs, and then up into the air.  Of course, I'd only done this outside or in the family room.  Tonight, Mimi ambushed me in the kitchen.  Already feeling good for getting one kid down so smoothly, I thought, "What the hell, let's give it a go."

First swing, "More Papa!"  Second swing, "More Papa!"  Third swing... oh my god, the kitchen light fixture just shattered.

A bit dazed, I held Mimi in my arms and then set her down where, stupidly, I thought she was out of range of the shattered glass.  I surveyed the damage.  "It could be worse." I thought.  And then it was. To my right I heard a scream of "Bloooooooooood!"  Mimi had cut her foot.  I'd gone from great dad to negligent monster in one swing.  Such is the life of a dad.

Sumie and I cleaned up the mess and Mimi was bandaged up.  I have to say I'm awfully proud of my little girl.  She was a little scared at first, but soon her curiosity got the better of her.  "Why is there blood on the floor?  Why does my foot hurt?  How many band-aids are you going to put on my foot?" I think Mimi's going to make a great doctor someday.  She really was a bit frightened at first, but she was far more interested in what happened and why.

Mimi ended up with 3 band-aids.  She was very excited to have so many at one time.  It was a new record.

As you can see, the initial scare soon switched over to interest and excitement.  Mimi was very good at keeping her foot elevated.  I'm not sure if she really knows what that means yet, but nonetheless, she did a great job!

This evening's wayward adventures followed a packed, but very rewarding weekend.  On Saturday, Mimi and Kuri visited their Great Grandma.  We brought a cake to celebrate, which both Mimi and Great Grandma enjoyed.

As is the case with all grandparents, the grandkids were spoiled.  Kuri enjoyed opening his gifts.

Although here I think he is coveting whatever his big sister was opening.

Back in NYC, we didn't get to see Great Grandma much, but now that we're closer, it's nice to be able to get together.  I think this picture sums up the day well.  Notice that I'm not in it.  There was a picture with me, but unfortunately, both kids were screaming.  Again, the life of a dad is a mixed bag.

On Sunday, Mimi got another dose of gymnastics.  She absolutely loves the foam pit.  Perhaps she has a kinship with the trash compactor monster from Star Wars.  I'll have to ask her next time we watch it.

Sunday afternoon, Sumie headed into the city to meet with friends and took the two kids.  I also ventured into the city for a going away party for a friend of mine.  All told, I think Sumie and I spent two hours together the entire day.  Still, she got some great pics of the kids.  Here's Kuri enjoying a swing in the park.

He's not quite as timid as his big sister was when it comes to swinging.  After all, he is a boy.

Lately, Mimi has been obsessed with the Lego Movie.  I can't really complain, as it's one of the best kids' movies I've seen in ages.  She decided to build her own Lego town, complete with ocean, on her little table in the family room.

Kuri is now quite independent.  He's crawling, cruising, sitting up, and standing on his own. Sometimes he likes  to pretend he's an 80 year old fire fighter from the 1920s.

Mostly, he just likes exploring.  Here he is in the kitchen looking for pots, pans, and tupperware to spread across the kitchen floor.

When Kuri came along (as I'm sure I've said before), I was worried at how Mimi might not get along with him.  Thankfully, I couldn't be more proud of her.  She's a wonderful big sister.   

Now, if only I could be as good of a dad, I'd have everything wrapped up.

From the Headlands to Headers and Hemis

Every four or five weeks my wife takes call at the hospital on Saturday and Sunday. These "call weekends," for Mimi and Papa at least, are really our "adventure weekends," with most of the adventuring occurring on Saturday (Sunday is for recovery). We don't generally have a plan, but most outings begin with a seed of some kind, be it running an errand for Mama, going to a new park for Mimi, or seeking out a pinball for Papa.

Two weekends ago Mimi had a request: find tampopo (dandelions). I decided to take the challenge, little knowing where the next 4 to 6 hours would take us.

On her way to work, Mama had called us to say that there were several good garage sales that she'd passed on her way to the freeway. Never wanting to pass up a chance at a good deal, we jumped in the car around 8:45 and drove the neighborhoods of northern San Rafael, looking for bargains as I considered where to seek out tampopo.

The last time I'd seen anything like dandelions was up in the Marin Headlands. Sure, we probably could've found some in our neighborhood - at the park or perhaps even along the street - but had we simply gone for a walk, we would've missed the view!

I've been up to the headlands countless times, but I never tire of the view. Mimi, however, being a three year old, simply looked out through the railings, yelled out, "Golden Gate Bridge!", and then went back sifting gravel from the dirt walkway to throw over the picturesque headlands.

We walked through the abandoned batteries of cliffs: the remnants of the pacific defenses fully manned following the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor. It still astounds me that today I can now walk these empty corridors, their massive cannon removed, with my half Japanese-half American daughter looking for dandelions. With all the contention in the world today, it's a nice reminder just how short-lived conflict with current enemies can be.

On the back side of the installation we failed to find dandelions proper, but did come across some plants that produced cotton-like puffs perfect for setting free on the bay breeze.

Mimi had been talking about finding dandelions almost constantly for the past 3 or 4 days, but she spent only a few minutes with the tampopo we found before she was ready to head back to the car. As is the case most of the time with toddlers, the thought of something can hold their attention for hours, even days, but once they have it, the magic quickly fades.

Back in the car, we headed further west toward the Point Bonita lighthouse. I have been wanting to take Mimi out here since we moved to the Bay Area but, once again, I realized that she's still a bit young for the walk, especially given that I had forgotten the stroller. Putting off the hike to the lighthouse once again, we headed back to San Rafael. En route, we stopped off at a furniture store, a thrift shop, and a recycled computer shop (Papa would like a new [to me] monitor for his home office). Mimi was a trooper, at least until the last stop. By then she was chanting "Koen! Koen! Koen!" That's Japanese for "park."

We headed over to the park and community center in Marinwood. We had a spot of lunch that we'd picked up earlier (that's right, we'd also gone shopping that morning) and then Mimi hit the slides.

In a stroke of luck for Papa, there just happened to be a neighborhood car show at the park that day! That stroke of luck was tremendously short-lived. By the time we reached the star of the show, a pristine 1963 Split-Window Corvette Stingray, it was 2:00pm and Mimi was ready to head for home. She tolerated the first picture...

made her displeasure known for the second...

and just completely rejected Papa on the third. Yeah, it was time to go home.

Call weekends can be challenging - it's sometimes hard to find the energy to keep up with a toddler, by yourself, all weekend after a full work-week - but I think I'm pretty lucky to have them. Once a month or so I have a built-in Daddy-Daughter weekend: a weekend filled with tiny discoveries, small adventures, big fun, and, occasionally, even bigger tantrums when nap time comes too late. Mimi may not remember these outings in the years to come. But I certainly will.

How to Seriously Disrupt a Dinner Party - Toddler Guide

First off, I know full well it's been more than a week since I last wrote.  The thing is, I don't even remember it.  It's enough for me to frame a coherent picture of the last two days let alone the entire week.  Friday night (from what I remember), Sumie and I were both exhausted.  But it was a good exhaustion.  We're making a real go of this two-job lifestyle, still finding plenty of time to spend time with Mimi and with each other (though a little sleep is lost, if I'm honest, in the process). 

When this weekend came round we were ready for a break, but we had a busy weekend planned.  So busy, in fact, that I'm having trouble remembering it as well.  Bear with me, but I'm going to do this post backwards.  I'll work through Sunday and give my mind some time to recount Saturday's adventures.  Here we go. 

We had three goals to accomplish this Sunday: 1. Get new tires for the BMW; 2. Borrow camping gear from the parents for Steve's camping weekend with the guys; 3. Get a "big girl bed" for Mimi.  While we struck out on the tires this time around (I'm not satisfied with the options just yet), we did get to visit with Grandma and Grandpa to pick up the camping equipment, and we secured Mimi a new bed.  Two out of three is perfectly acceptable. 

It had been a balmy 72 degrees, at most, in San Francisco when we headed out to the east bay this morning.  By the time we reached Grandma and Grandpa's, it was at least 157 degrees Celsius.  Yes, I know I used to live in New York and I know it was far hotter and more humid there, but I've acclimated.  Anything over 90 degrees is just obscene these days.  Mimi thinks so, too, so she insisted on jumping into the sprinkler. 

She'd run as fast as she could and then step on it.  

This was endlessly entertaining for Mimi.  

 It's strange.  She'll scream in the shower if she even thinks water is coming within a foot of her face, but give her a garden sprinkler and she'll soak herself from head to toe.  Gleefully. 

All that playing in the sprinkler wore Mimi out.  She must've been running on adrenaline when we said goodbye to Grandma and Grandpa because three minutes after we pulled away she was dead to the world, passed out in her car seat. 

For Mimi's new bed we went, once again, to Ikea where we found something suitable, i.e. reasonably tasteful and cheap.  Shopping at Ikea isn't all that exciting, beyond the meatballs, so I'll spare you all the details, but I would like to spend a few moments to celebrate the most versatile automobile in history: the BMW 3-series wagon.

I've written of our beloved little wagon before, but it deserves multiple mentions.  Some may believe that an SUV is the ultimate multi-purpose vehicle, but none of them (save perhaps the Range Rover) even come close to fulfilling the number of roles my little 3-series wagon hacks carries off with ease. It's terrible off-road, but that's the only drawback.

This car is nice enough to take up for a weekend in Napa, but pedestrian enough to never raise an eyebrow.  It's safe and dependable, but handles better than some sports cars.  It will seat five in relative comfort, with all their luggage, but is still small enough to parallel park with ease.  It will putter along the freeway without complaint at 60, but feels even better at 80 or higher.  The fuel economy is reasonable, the looks are good, it's reliable, it's handsome, and it's humble enough (at least in white) for the CHP to disregard.  If BMW imported an M edition of the 3 series wagon I'd never buy another car.

Let me give you an example of this car's capabilities.  Today, we loaded up the car as shown below.

The stash included:

1. Camp stove
2. Four person tent
3. Sleeping bag
4. Sleeping mat
5. Fuel for the stove
6. 3 camping chairs
7. A camping set of pots and pans
8. Several bowls from Ikea
9. A complete child's bed frame
10. A full-size child's mattress
11. One insane toddler
12. One petite Japanese nephrologist
13. One fat, balding man of European ancestry

Even with all this baggage, I was still able to cram everything in without obstructing any sight lines.  Had it been the 1950s, Mimi could've even taken a nap on our way home!

Saturday (it's coming back to me) also involved some time in the wagon.  We were hosting a dinner party that night for three of Sumie's medical school friends (Jenny, Jen, and Stephen).  Mimi and I spent the morning picking up tasty tidbits for the party while Sumie stayed home and cleaned the house, a task beyond possibility when Mimi's present. 

Everyone arrived around 6.  Jenny brought her 3 month old son Russell, who the rather pregnant Jen is holding below. 

By 8 we were all having a wonderful time.  The food was good, the company was even better, and Mimi was having a ball playing Mama to little Russell.  And then, as it always does with toddlers, everything went to shit.  Literally. 

Mimi became a little over-excited playing with everyone and when I picked her up for trying to take someone's drink, she retaliated by slapping me in the face.  She's been doing a lot of this acting out recently - she's not exactly sure of the harm she can cause just yet - so I gave her a second chance.  She hit me again.  That was it.  Time out in the back bedroom. 

I set Mimi on the bed in the guest bedroom, facing the corner as usual.  She had two minutes to sit, pretend to moan (she still thinks we'll sympathize), and contemplate whatever it is a toddler contemplates when its parents want it to think about what its done.  Soon the two minutes were up and Sumie went to go get her.  That's when we realized that Mimi's slapping me was not what she had in mind to derail the dinner party.  She had something must more sinister up her sleeve.  Or should I say, under her diaper. 

Sumie entered the room to find a noxious smell and an even more vile river of refuse streaming down Mimi's leg and soaking into the bedspread.  She grabbed the vengeful, and by now quite satisfied child, and took her to the bathroom, where Mimi was placed in the bath tub clothing an all.  I heard from the bathroom, "Emergency!"  and came into the back bedroom to find a miniature Niagara Falls, rendered in septic brown, streaming down the bedspread. 

As I ran a code blue on the bed spread, Sumie began showering Mimi, who immediately decided to slip in the bath tub and let out a wail so piercing that it very well may be the clarion call of the zombie apocalypse.  Our guests,  traumatized I'm sure, continued  to eat and converse in the living room as Sumie and I scurried to hide the horror of our toddler's creation.  It was a full 20 minutes until Mimi was subdued and the laundry was running downstairs. 

The party ended on a high note, though (good pie and even better macaroons), and Mimi made up for her blunder with lots of kisses and hugs as our friends made their way out.  Even when Mimi horrifies, she can still cute her way out of it. 

It wasn't the most restful of weekend, but it was a memorable one.  And that's important when we're so busy.  So much can get lost in the rush of things, but Mimi always has a way of making sure we never overlook her.  Even tonight, after a weekend we won't soon forget, Mimi managed to put a final, personal stamp on our day.  Halfway through this blog post I heard some serious struggling from Mimi's room.  I stopped, listened, and then went back to writing.  A few minutes later I heard a few clunks and clangs and then a "Papa!"  Mimi didn't sound worried.  She didn't sound in pain.  It sounded like she wanted to show me something.  When I walked in, I discovered I was right.

Honestly.  No one but Mimi could think a massive wire rack is the best way to polish off an already overcrowded crib.  When I put her down she was wearing pajamas, and was cuddled with a two blankets and a few stuffed animals.  Half an hour later I discovered that Mimi - in the dark, mind you - had decided to strip off her clothes, move every single item she could lift into her crib, and then jump back in.  I suppose, at the end of the day and the end of the weekend, there is no explaining the toddler mind.  One just jumps in, buckles up, and hangs on.  It is, despite the insanity, still a rather enjoyable ride.

Tomales Bay Oyster Fest

This past Sunday we tramped across the Golden Gate and headed up Highway 101 for Point Reyes and the Tomales Bay oyster beds.  A friend of ours was hosting a birthday picnic composed of sun, sand, and several hundred insanely fresh, yet-to-be shucked oysters.  Yes, it was the adult incarnation of the 8 year old birthday party at Chuck-e-Cheese.  If you missed it, you'd be kicking yourself for weeks. 

We made sure not to miss it, though with Mimi in tow, we were a bit late.  Scheduled for 11:00, we crept in to the Tomales Bay Oyster Company site around 11:40 to find the place beyond packed.  It was like half of Marin had come out for some afternoon shucking. 

We started off with 50 "medium" oysters.  I'm afraid the proprietors of the Tomales Bay Oyster Company have confused the adjective "medium" with "mind-blowingly enormous."  I did not complain.  As usual, it was mutually agreed, but never discussed, that I would man the grill.  I don't know why this is so common for me, but it happens all the time, particularly when I'm surrounded by doctors, which I was on Sunday.   Whenever this happens I can't help but picture the doctor group thinking, "That guy's not an MD.  Hmm.  Maybe we can let him light some things on fire.  He'd probably like that."  Lucky for me I'm decent with a BBQ and I enjoy playing with fire (in this rare case literally, not figuratively).  

By the end of the day the group made it through at least 150 oysters.  A good many of these we roasted, but more than half we downed fresh out of the shell.  Good lord they were good.  This is how people who have never had oysters and are afraid to try them should do it.  They'll make a believer of even the most jaded oyster skeptic.

Mimi wasn't that interested in cooking, so as one batch of oysters roasted, Sumie or I would take Mimi out to the edge of the oyster beds, easily accessible thanks to the low tide.       

Mimi's starting to develop some serious mountaineering skills.  Skills, I'm afraid, that don't quite coincide with her lovely (and now nearly destroyed) red patent leather shoes.  

Back from one of our adventures, I was able to catch a wonderful picture of Mimi and her Mama. 

When it came my turn for a pic, Mimi needed some convincing.  She seemed to think the goal was squatting, not picture taking.

Eventually we got the shot.  This may be the only pic I have from the last year in which Mimi and I are both looking at the camera!

After a couple hours of fun and conversation, a couple pounds of shellfish, and a couple if forearms crisply burned (I forgot to sunscreen my arms once again), we started loading up for our trip home.  Mimi, true to form, decided she wasn't filthy enough for her mother's new car.  She made a dash for the water, where she discovered a mud so nastily thick that it simply had to be spread across her hands, legs, and shoes.  Yes, that will make the car seat nice and filthy.  

It was a fantastic day out.  Looking back on it we realized we didn't have any pictures of our friend, Thach-Giao, whose birthday party it was nor the oysters we'd inhaled.  I guess a little of that toddler narcissism is rubbing off on us.  For shame.  Well, I suppose it's not the first time I've been criticized for acting like a two year old...