Loud and Clear

Earlier today, I took Calliope in for her three-month check-up. Yes, THREE MONTHS. Can you believe it? On one hand, I feel like it was just the other day that she was born. She still looks like such a little bean, and I still refer to her as a "newborn." On the other hand, there are definite signs that she's growing. Her cheeks are unbearably chubby, she is remarkably alert, and I swear that - although she can't talk - she can understand what I'm saying. Maybe she is able to intuit my emotions because she's my daughter. Maybe it's a woman-to-woman connection. Maybe I'm delusional. Who knows?
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While we were waiting for Dr. Kaminker to see us, we passed the time by shooting the breeze. I asked Calliope what she though about my new jeans, which I'd recently purchased at Forever 21. Were they too young for me? Too tight? Not mom-appropriate? She responded with this:
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Hmmm, not promising. Well, I explained to her that my old jeans no longer fit the same because both she and her brother used to live inside my belly. Well, that just about blew her mind:
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Whoops, this could lead to a conversation I'm not ready to have yet. Time to change the subject! I told Calliope about how I just finished reading the Twilight series, and how I'm, like, TOTALLY on Team Edward, but I find Taylor Lautner like, SO HOT.
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She seemed to agree. Or, was that smile a suppressed giggle at how completely lame I was for being a Twi-hard? Well, if she thought that was funny, then she was going to LOVE hearing about how her dad and Nolan's dad spend hours online playing video games with titles like "Gears of War," "Bioshock," and "Left 4 Dead," while talking smack to the other online players - who were closer in age to her than to them.
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My thoughts exactly! Even so, there are far worse vices for a man to have. I told her about how this guy named Jesse was recently caught straying from his devoted wife Sandra and has since spent every spare moment professing his undying love for her. What do you think about that, Calliope?
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I couldn't have said it better!

Rocket Scientist vs. Kite

On a recent sunny Saturday, the Chan Clan joined neighbors Satish and Monica and their daughters Anya and Anjali in the park for an afternoon of kite-flying.

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Benjamin was amazed by the kite, and he chased it around, yelling at the top of his lungs until he was hoarse. He didn't get a chance to steer the kite, but it's just as well; I would have worried about his 20-lb frame getting yanked up into the atmosphere by the wind, which was particularly strong.
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It might have been that strong wind which pulled the kite into a nearby tree. Satish and Vince tried pulling on the kite and shaking the tree, but to no avail - the kite remained firmly anchored in the tree's branches. Monica and I stood there for the better part of an hour watching with amusement as our husbands went bonkers trying to figure out how to get the kite down. What made it even more amusing was the fact that Satish is a rocket scientist. Yes, an actual rocket scientist.

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In the end, we had to cut the string and leave the kite in the tree. As we walked away from it, it bobbed in the wind, it's tails ripping and waving merrily. I couldn't help but feel like it was mocking Satish.

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Rocket Scientist: 0, Kite: 1.

Sibling Revelry

Calliope's almost three months old now, and she and Benjamin have already developed quite a bond. Though she can't yet understand a word he's saying, Benjamin has other ways of making her feel cared for and secure.
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Every chance he gets, he smothers her with hugs and kisses! It's obvious that he loves his baby sister quite a lot.
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And I would say that the feeling is mutual!

High C

Since Calliope's birth, lots of people have asked me what spherocytosis is. Let me see if I can explain... Calliope's (and Benjamin's) red blood cells are spherical instead of donut-shaped. It is the spleen's job to filter out abnormally-shaped (i.e. non-donut-shaped) blood cells. A problem arises because the spleen doesn't recognize spherocytes as "normal" red blood cells, so what does it do? It QC's those pesky abnormal RBCs and destroys them. Since most of Calliope's red blood cells are round, this can lead to a lot of destroying, which in turn, can lead to low counts of RBCs. Most of the time, that's not a big deal, but when the counts get low enough, she can go into anemic shock, which is a big deal. Our goal is to avoid getting that low, which is why we monitor Calliope's blood counts, which brings me to the topic of this post: Calliope's recent trip to the hospital for her first post-NICU blood transfusion WHEW, that was a mouthful!
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There had been talk in recent weeks of tranfusing Calliope so that we could take a worry-free trip to Chicago for Vince's cousin's wedding. As you can imagine, I was less than thrilled about the prospect of submitting my child to an elective blood transfusion, and I had been on the fence about whether or not the trip was worth that. As it happens, Calliope took the decision out of my hands when her counts dropped low enough to necessitate a transfusion anyway. So last Wednesday, we checked into UCLA Santa Monica hospital to do just that.
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The room we checked in to happened to be two doors down from the room where Benjamin stayed for one of his first transfusions two years ago. I recognized Terri, the coolest nurse on planet. She was able to start an IV in one of Benjamin's impossibly tiny veins back then, and she did the same for Calliope this time around.

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Unfortunately, even the most gifted of hands can't prevent a baby from feeling the stick of the needle.
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Luckily, Calliope had visitors to lift her spirits. I wondered if Benjamin would have unpleasant memories of what happened the last time he was there. Would he see the shiny instruments and recoil in horror? Would the antiseptic smell of the room trigger a nasty flashback?
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Nope! He had seemed to have zero recollection of his past experiences. He climbed onto the bed, commandeered the remote control, and started wolfing down my dinner. Go ahead, Benjamin, make yourself riiiight at home.
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Of course, the Boo did more than just relax and pig out. He also took the time to cuddle with his baby sister and offer his support to her.
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That is so cute I think we should see it again and closer up:
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I'm sure that any mom would find the sight of her older spherocytotic child comforting his younger spherocytotic sibling right before she receives a blood transfusion to be extremely endearing. Right?

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The transfusion finally got started close to midnight. Poor Calliope wasn't too happy when the nurses came in to fuss with her IV and kicked up quite a ruckus.
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Once the process was underway, she was able to relax again. Over the course of the next four hours, Calliope received an infusion of "normal" red blood cells that her spleen would not destroy. The transfusion ended around 4 am, after which we both finally fell asleep.
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I awoke around 7 am to the sensation of Calliope's tiny body wriggling next to mine. As I groggily pulled myself from slumber, I heard the sound of cooing and giggling, too.
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That transfusion really made quite a difference! Calliope seemed like a different baby. The night before she was cranky and lethargic. Now, she seemed positively... high. That was my honest impression of her that morning. It was as though she'd been smoking the ganja and was ready to eat a bucket of KFC and watch "Half Baked." Am I allowed to say that, or should I get ready for CPS to come knocking on my door?
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We're jammin'!

Thank You, Mom

Ever since my high school graduation, my mom and I have lived far apart. During my college years when she resided primarily in Atlanta, we were separated by a continent. After college, when my mom began spending most of her time in China, we were separated by half a world. The geographical distance, however, has never stopped her from being there by my side any time I've needed her. When I was a frightened college student paralyzed by depression, she crashed on my couch for two weeks to make sure I didn't feel alone. When I wrecked my car and my body in a freeway pileup, she was at my bedside in two days flat (mind you, it takes two days just to get from China to Los Angeles). After I had Benjamin and was faced with the terrifying prospect of caring for him while Vince was away on business, she quietly changed her flight home to leave after he returned. And this year, when both me and my brother's wife had babies within days of one another, she spent almost four months camping out on pull-out beds and floor mats so she could take care of the newborns, new moms, and tired dads.
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My mom's 2010 odyssey began in January when she flew out to help care for Benjamin while I was hugely pregnant with Calliope. Once Calliope was born, my mom had her hands full helping me make it through what I like to call "Newborn Boot Camp."
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It was important to my mom that her grandson not feel neglected or unloved during this time of change. When she wasn't busy watching Calliope, she made sure to spend quality time with Benjamin. Suffice it to say, she was one busy grandma! She did, however, get an extended break from the craziness of our home...
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...when she flew to Kansas City to help my brother and sister-in-law care for their newborn, Cristian. From what I heard, Cristian was not a great sleeper, preferring - as many new babies do -to spend his nights wide awake torturing his parents. After six weeks there helping Leon and Claire, she returned to LA...
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...and to the particular kind of madness that only exists in homes with a newborn and a toddler. Lucky for her, she didn't spend all of her time caring for the kids.
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She took time off to cook dinner for us every night, too.

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My mom left to go home this past Wednesday. Within hours of dropping her off at the airport, I received a call from Calliope's hematologist telling me she'd have to have a transfusion. After scrambling to figure out childcare for Benjamin and pack a bag for the night, we sped to the hospital. It wasn't until the next day when Calliope was discharged that it really hit me: my mom had gone back to China. And I really, really missed her. When we got back from the hospital, a scene of chaos greeted me: dirty plates were in the kitchen sink, a hamper by the couch was full of laundry was waiting to be folded, and even though I was starving, there was nothing to eat. I wanted to cry. Had my mom been there, the kitchen would have been clean, the laundry would have been folded, and I would have opened the door to the smell of a hot meal cooking on the stove. But more than any of that, what I missed the most was just knowing that she was there, knowing that I could draw on her for strength and support.

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Mom, I can't begin to thank you enough for everything you've done for me and my family. I am so lucky to have you as my mother, and you inspire me to be the best mother that I can be for Calliope and Benjamin. I love you!

Calliope's First Mother's Day

This past Sunday was Mother's Day, and since it was my first one as a mom of two, I wondered if the children (and by "the children" I mean "my husband") would surprise me with something special. Well, they didn't disappoint. Imagine the surprise on my face when Benjamin presented me with my Mother's Day gift - a doggy poo bag.
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Of course, there wasn't actually poo inside the poo bag; the bag was merely my wrapping-challenged husband's attempt at packaging my gift. Inside were two boxes, each containing a pewter photo frame. One frame was shaped like a little boy, the other like a little girl, and each was engraved with my children's names. It was a whimsical, thoughtful gift that made me smile.
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In the afternoon, Vince, the kids, and I went to Vince's parents' house for dinner. My own mother, who was still in town, had headed out early to treat herself to a day of pampering (and some much-deserved quiet time sans screaming children!) and would be meeting us after dinner back at home.
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This was Calliope's first Chan family gathering, and Vince's parents spent much time holding her and posing for pictures.
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Though much attention was paid to the only granddaughter in the family, the grandsons had a great time, too!

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After dinner was over, we headed head to reconnect with my mom. In the car, we gave her a call to let her know we were on our way back. As we pulled into the garage, I was surprised to see her waiting for us there. Before we even had a chance to cut the engine, she already was opening the door to smother the kids with hugs and kisses!

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Though she'd enjoyed her relaxing day away from the madness of our home, it was obvious that my mom had missed her grandbabies. I was fully prepared to give her the rest of the night off from all child-minding duties, but she insisted on getting down on hands and knees to "talk" to Calliope.
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The woman is a glutton for punishment!

"Mama! BOOBIES!"

Since turning two, Benjamin's speech has kicked into overdrive, and he's become quite the chatterbox. Sometimes he'll chatter about his basic needs ("Mama, I hungry. Mama, now, mama. Mama, I eat COOOOOOKIE."). Other times, he'll chatter about whatever happens to catch his eye at that particular moment. Like a passing car, or a bright red fire truck. Or, boobies. Yes, while strolling the aisles on a recent shopping trip at Target, Benjamin suddenly stopped, pointed, and shouted, "Boobies! Mama! BOOBIES!" Of course, it wasn't actual boobies he spotted, but rather a rack (no pun intended) of brassieres. And if that wasn't enough, he started singing a song that wrote for him about the general topic. Unfortunately, he could only remember the first line, and that was what he sang over and over - at the top of his lungs.

Sharing is Caring

One of the reasons Vince and I didn't want to wait too long to have our second baby is because of the idea that our kids might be close enough in age that they would be able to grow up playing with each other. Even so, we didn't expect Calliope to really be able to interact with Benjamin until she was at least a year or two old. Benjamin wasn't willing to wait that long.
.He spent the first month of Calliope's life peeking over the edge of her pack 'n' play, impatiently waiting for her to get up and play with him. A few weeks ago, he got tired of waiting and took matters into his own hands.
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One afternoon while she was sitting in her bouncy chair, he started sharing his toys with her. Rather, he started bringing his toys over and piling them top of her. As the saying goes, if Mohammed can't go to the mountain, then the mountain must completely obscure Calliope. Or something.
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And lest you start thinking that Benjamin's the only one having fun, take a look:
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That looks like a smile to me!

Why God Made Women Moms

Because men do stuff like this:
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Enough said.

Our First Family Portrait

Several weeks ago, we decided to finally have our family portrait taken professionally. Benjamin's mohawk was looking good, Vince's coif was neat and trimmed, my eyebrows were freshly waxed, and Calliope - six weeks old at the time - was finally starting to plump up and look less like a fetus. So bright and early on a Saturday morning, we met up with the wonderful Gloria Plunkett and got to posing.
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Ever the ham, Benjamin immediately jumped into action and started vogueing his little tushy off. At one point, I was even starting to wonder if the rest of us would make it into any of the photos!

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But Benjamin graciously shared the spotlight with Mom and Dad, and we captured several priceless pics with our firstborn.

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And though she was only a newborn, Calliope did her best to act fierce for the camera. Sorry, I've been watching too much America's Next Top Model.

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And, lest we think that this photo shoot was all about the kids, we managed to get it together enough to capture a few sweet moments with all four of us.

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After we got the proofs from our photo session with Gloria, I started thinking about the last time we had our pictures professionally taken:
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So much changes in three short years!