Friday, January 28, 2011

Blood - It Does a Body Good!

Benjamin's first year of life was rough. By the time he was 7 weeks old, he'd had two transfusions. He spent the week before his first Christmas as well as the week after his first birthday getting transfused, too. He continued spending time in and out of the doc's office for the next six months, when suddenly he seemed to get better, and for a long time, we almost forgot that transfusions were even something to worry about. But alas, the good times had to end.
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It started early one recent morning when the Boo woke with a fever. By the next day, it was obvious that he had fallen prey to a very nasty bug. Then instead of getting better, we saw the familiar signs that it might take more than chicken soup and TLC for him to recover; his skin became pale, his lips looked blue, and his pulse was racing. Worst of all, he just wasn't himself. Instead of being a naughty little pain in my ass, he was sluggish and quiet. Too quiet. So I called the doctor.
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Thus began the Hurry-Up-And-Wait Dance: Hurry to the pediatrician's for initial assessment! Find out that Benjamin's levels are low and rush to the blood draw center for more accurate testing! Go home and wait by the phone for the results! Wait for three hours, watching bad daytime TV in the meantime to get your mind off of things!! Finally, get the call telling you that either (A) the levels are fine so you can stay home, or (B) the levels are too low, so you have to get your ass to the hospital! All the times in the past year and a half, the phone calls were of the "A" variety, so we were surprised to receive the "B" call instead this time. But we did, so off we went. Calliope was pretty furious that she had to be awakened from her nap, and she let me have it the entire drive there:
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As you can see, Benjamin was so out of it that he slept through all that racket.
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Vince met us at the UCLA Med Center where the nurses tried to no avail to start an IV in Benjamin. This was actually rather difficult for me to watch. It's not that I enjoyed seeing my son get poked with needles before, it's just that the last time he had to go through this, he was much younger and not quite as verbal. "No" and "stop" were the only two words that we could really understand. This time, his words came out loud and clear. I heard "I wanna go home!!" quite a few times. Also, "Mama, they're hurting me!" That one went right through my heart. After over an hour of fruitless poking, they stopped. Rather than continue torturing him, the nurses sent us home with instructions to have him drink lots of liquids to plump up his veins and come back in the morning.
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The next morning, there were some familiar faces to greet us. Marisa, the head nurse for pediatric hematology was there with a big hug for Benjamin. So was nurse Charlotte, who remembered us from when we were there last year. Benjamin didn't remember her, but he probably will this time since she gave him a nice toy at the end of his visit. Thanks, Nurse Charlotte!
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We were set up in a room with a nice view of the Med Plaza and Westwood Blvd. Calliope didn't seem to understand that the glass she was pressing up against had no give, and she kept bonking her forehead against it.
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Then it was the moment of truth. Would the nurses be able to place the IV this time? It took a couple of tries, but they were. Hooray! None of the veins in his arms or hands proved viable, so the IV wound up in his foot. At first, he seemed upset about the strange apparatus protruding from it, but once we told him that his foot was now part robot, he got excited. What little boy doesn't dream of being a robot? So we tucked his little robot foot under his blanket, gave him his favorite monkey to clutch in his hands, and the transfusion got underway.
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As he always does during a transfusion, our sweet boy dozed off into a peaceful sleep. Hours later when it was complete, the change in him was huge:
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Haha! Just kidding!! The transformation isn't quite that dramatic, but it is, nonetheless, remarkable.
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Look at those rosy cheeks! Those red lips! If you think Benjamin looks annoyed in the "After" picture, you're right; I was so excited to see him looking healthy that I couldn't stop kissing him the moment he opened his eyes.
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Daddy was happy to see him feeling well, too.
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In the car on the way home, Benjamin was back to his old self. Remember how he was passed out on the way to the hospital even through all of Calliope's screaming? Well, that Boo was a distant memory.


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He's baaaaaack!
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That night, as I was putting Benjamin to bed, I told him that I was so proud of him and what a brave boy he had been that day. He looked me in the eye and said, "Mama, I don't want to be brave." I've become so used to going through all the medical stuff with the kids these past three years that I'm rarely affected by it anymore, but those words brought tears to my eyes. I think it's because they made me realize that he shouldn't have to be brave. More than that, it made me realize that there is only so much that a mother can do to shield her children from some of the more unpleasant aspects of life. So we do what we can do. We surpress the urge to rip to shreds the people who are causing them pain when we know that it's for their own good. We tell them the IV in their feet are magic robot extensions. Most importantly, we make sure that we're there when they open their eyes so we can shower them with love and kisses.
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Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Bento Blahs

On the left: hard-cooked egg with some ketchup on the side; cubed baked yam; and PBN&FM sandwiches. On the right: hard-cooked egg with ketchup; PBN&FM sandwiches; and yogurt. YAWN!

I've been in a bento rut lately. Instead of branching out into exciting new bento territory (I am dying to try this carrot puree muffin recipe), I've been sticking to the usual suspects - egg (boiled or fried), PBN&FM sammies, and yams. Booooring! But don't blame me. Blame this guy:
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Benjamin's been going through a painfully picky phase lately, which means I've had to stick to putting things I know that he'll eat into his bento lunches. For example, he used to love fresh veggies. He'd eat frozen peas and carrots by the handful like they were candy. But then one evening, I served him his dinner of fried rice with chicken and veggies, and he started screaming, "No peas! NO PEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAS!!" My God, what did peas ever do to you, son?? Anyway, I started worrying that he wasn't getting enough veggies, so I had to get even craftier with how I snuck them into his meals.
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Left: PBN&FM sandwiches; tamagoyaki with bean puree added; clementine orange. Right: Yams; PB&J sandwiches; Trader Joe's Organic O cereal; tamagoyaki with pureed broccoli and cauliflower.
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I've found that an immersion blender does an even better job of getting veggies pureed into smooth nothingness than a food processor does. When I used my food processor, I'd notice chunks of whole veggies left in the mix. Granted, the chunks were really small - think the size of the head of a straight pin - but in his uber-picky state, Benjamin's tongue has developed the ability to ferret out any vegetable matter and cast it out with a disgusted, "Phblah!" Another upside to the immersion blender is that it's easier to clean up than all the different pieces that make up a food processor. We all win!
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Left: Christmas-inspired PBJ&FM sandwiches; banana and persimmon chunks; hard-cooked egg with some ketchup. Right: More sammies with tamagoyaki and baked yam.

The one area in which I have been able to do some experimenting is with the shapes I cut the sandwiches into. Oh, my goodness, has there ever been a more housewifey (or grammatically clumsy) sentence uttered? Anyhoo, check out my Christmas-inspired bento above. The little "trees" broke up the visual, if not gustatory, monotony of my recent bento. Guess I'll have to wait until the next holiday to get creative again. That would be Chinese New Year, and this year, it's going to be the Year of the Rabbit, which is my sign. According to my mom, this means that I have to wear red underwear on Chinese New Year's Eve. Who knew my peeps were so kinky? Anyway, maybe I can pack some rabbit-shaped sandwiches in his bento. Or how about some sandwiches shaped like red underwear? Wait, I'm sure that would warrant a call to CPS. I'll stick with rabbits.

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

The Awesomest Playground in Marina del Rey, or "Holla, Glen Alla!"

Marina del Rey is a beachy community nearby known for turtle racing (Brennan's Irish Pub), picturesque waterside walks (the marina), and overpriced, mediocre surf 'n' turf (most of the restaurants on Admiralty Way). Now, it may get to be known for something else - Glen Alla Park, the freakin' awesome new playground on the corner of Glencoe and Alla.
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So what makes this park so awesome? For starters, there's plenty of stuff for a curious tot to climb on.
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There's also a lot to slide down, such as this slide thingamabob made up of hundreds of rubber tubes. It looked like a lot of fun when the kids were on it, but when I tried it, it felt like I was being kicked in the ass over and over by the entire population of Lilliput. Maybe this was the playground's way of telling parents to stay off of the equipment.
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Then there was this big sandpit filled with a sand-filled whale. Did that make sense? Maybe a picture will clear it up:
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It looked like a gigantic ceramic planter to me, but the Boo and his friend Asher sure liked it! At least they did until Benjamin took a backwards tumble over the side of the whale. Oops! Luckily, his gigantic puffy coat cushioned his fall.
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It was crowded during our first visit to Glen Alla Park, so we didn't have an opportunity to let Calliope play on the equipment. Her buddy James made sure she wasn't lonely, though.
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It was a bummer that Calliope had to miss out on the fun during that first visit, so we went back another day when it was quieter. Did she enjoy herself? You tell me:



Unfortunately, the Boo didn't fare so well this time:



I assure you no Boos were harmed in the making of this video.
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See you at Glen Alla Park!

Sunday, January 16, 2011

Practice Makes...


Practice makes...
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...perfect!

Monday, January 10, 2011

The Puffy Pink Coat Conundrum

We're going to Kansas City in March to visit our loved ones: my brother Leon, his wife Claire, and my nephew Cristian, and also our close friends Sheila, Marco, and Kayla. Woohoo! But even though I'm really excited about our upcoming trip, I'm aware that Kansas City is considerably colder than Los Angeles. Just check out this recent picture of Kayla. I'm breaking out in goosebumps just looking at her! To insure that Calliope stays toasty for her first trip to colder climes, I had to get her a nice, warm coat.
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I found this stylish black number on sale at Baby Gap. It's warm, it's puffy, and yes, it does look an awful lot like the jacket we bought Benjamin for his trip to Kansas City over a year ago:
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When we first purchased this jacket for Benjamin, we figured that before long, his little sister would be able to wear it. It is, after all, size 6-12 months.
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As it turns out, our nearly three-year-old son can still wear that 6-12 month jacket, which meant that Calliope was going to have to get one of her own. But did I have to get her a nearly identical black puffer? Couldn't it have been something a little different? A little girlier perhaps? I actually did initially buy her a pale pink version of the same coat.
. Cute, huh? Yes, I thought it was cute, too. Until I looked at it from the front, at which point all those puffy pink flaps just made me think of...
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Friday, January 7, 2011

NYE Party Crasher

Our New Year's Even plans last year were modest: get together with friends Julie and Shawn to play our favorite board game The Settlers of Cataan. Unfortunately, the powers that be (and by "powers that be" I'm talking about my then-unborn daughter) had other plans.
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There I am, 6.5 months preggers and laid up in the hospital hoping that my daughter isn't planning an escape. Obviously, Vince and I had to take a raincheck on our exciting plans to play board games with the neighbors. Thanks, Calliope!
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This NYE, we decided to cash that raincheck. We ordered pizza, filled up our wine glasses, and set up Settlers. Then just as we were about to start playing...
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See those chubby legs in the video display? They belong to Calliope. And see those lights below the video display? Yup, they're red. In case you're not familiar with how baby monitors work, red lights = bad. One bar of red = Baby is crying. Two bars of red = Baby is really crying. Three bars of red = Get your ass into the nursery, mama, because you're not going to get to cash in that raincheck from last NYE after all. Once again, THANKS, Calliope. I tried to look on the bright side, though. Things could be worse. Instead of one red-lined baby monitor, I could be dealing with this:
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Double the fun!
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The next morning, Calliope showed no signs of fatigue from being up all night. No fatigue, and no remorse. When I asked her if she felt bad about ruining mommy and daddy's NYE get-together, she gave me this look:
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Is it possible for a 10-month-old baby to gloat? Methinks, yes.
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Here's to 2010!