A Tale of Two Blood Draws

A couple weeks ago, I was dropping Benjamin off at school when he turned his face up to me for his goodbye kiss and I noticed that he was looking pretty yellow. Not just regular Asian-skin yellow, but extremely yellow. "My-hemoglobin-is-dropping-mommy-take-me-to-the-doctor" yellow. Then I looked at Calliope, and would'ja know it, her skin was looking pretty damn yellow, too. And her eyes? The whites were so yellow that I felt like I was being stared down by two gigantic lemon-glazed donuts. Sigh. Off to the doctor we went.

Both of the kids have had more than their fair share of blood draws and transfusions, but Calliope has the dubious distinction of having had more. She's the queen bee of blood draws. The phlebotomists always urge her to look away, but she just takes a deep breath, steels herself, and fixes her eyes on her arm while they stick the needle in. It's downright freaky.

Benjamin, on the other hand, isn't quite as stoic when it comes to getting his blood drawn. The tears started flowing before the phlebotomist even touched him, and I was powerless to comfort him. I asked his sister to please offer her support. "Calliope," I said gently. "Your brother is scared. Can you please comfort him and tell him it's going to be ok? Tell him it doesn't hurt. Help him be brave." Here is what she said:

"Ben Ben, it doesn't hurt. Ben Ben, you're crying, but *I* didn't cry. *I* was BRAVE. YOU are crying! HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"

In addition to being freaky, I think she may also be a bit evil. Let's get a closer look at that.

{{shudder}}

Unfortunately, their test results weren't what we'd hoped they'd be, and they both needed transfusions. At the same time. This was a first. Usually, they take turns getting sick, becoming anemic, and getting transfused. This time, they'd be going in at the same time. So what's a mom to do? Take them across the street to the mall and buy them a crapload of toys in a failed bid to make them feel better. Oh, and pray, pray, pray that the nurses would be able to get the IV started in fewer than 10 attempts.

Usually, I have to argue, wheedle, and beg the nurses to call the hospital's IV Team to come start my kids' IVs. The IV Team members are like the Green Berets of the hospital. They're the ones they send in when nobody else can get the job done. Almost every other time, the nurses won't call the IV Team until after my kids have been poked no fewer than six times over the course of six or seven hours. They're sympathetic to my pleas that my kids are difficult to stick, but they still try themselves until they realize that mama wasn't lying about needing the specialists. This time, as soon as we stepped on the ward, I was pulled aside by one of the nurses who confessed that she followed me on Instagram and remembered how difficult my kids were to stick. She said in a conspiratorial tone, "I've already called the IV Team." I nearly cried with relief. Every time someone else even tried to look at my kids' veins, she would park herself in front of him or her and firmly say, "The IV Team has been called." The look on her face and crossed arms brooked no argument. Sure enough, the IV Team showed up shortly, and got the kids going with only a few attempts. Hallelujah!! Looks like we have a guardian angel, and her name is Amy.

My wonderful hubby left work early and came to the hospital so I could go home and get some rest, but I got this picture before I left:

It was really sweet to see them cuddled together in the same hospital bed. Nothing brings siblings together like blood bags and tubing. Oh, and an iPad. That helps, too.

"How Do You Make a Baby?"

This was our dinnertime conversation at Pitfire Pizza the other night…

Benjamin: You remember when Calliope came out of you?

Me: Huh?

Benjamin: How did she get out?

Me: A doctor helped her get out.

Calliope: But how did I get inside you?

Me: ...

Calliope: How do you make a baby?

Me: You mean out of clay? Why don't you guys show me!

Calliope and Benjamin: Yeah! Ok!!


I don't know how much longer I can stall these guys out!!

Double Whammy

I used to dread cold season when the kids were younger. Because of their blood disorder, run-of-the-mill sniffles would lead to a fall in their hemoglobin, which would lead to pale, yellowish skin, which would lead me to take them for blood tests, which would sometimes lead to blood transfusions. No fun! By their first birthdays, my little vampires had each received a bunch of blood transfusions, but as they got older, they needed them less and less. So I have to admit I got complacent. I'd see them looking pale and yellow and think to myself, "Well, they're always anemic... So they're just fiiiine." And when they started looking REALLY yellow like a real-life Bart and Lisa , I'd say to myself, "Well, they're anemic AND they're Asian... So they're still fiiiine." Luckily, they have amazing people in their lives who aren't quite as inured to their sallow complexions and who aren't shy about speaking up when they'e looking a little too Simpson-esque. That's what happened a few weeks ago when the director of B's preschool, the wonderful Ms. Romy, called me up to tell me that she thought he was looking a bit off. I drove to his school right away, but though I thought he did look pale, he was going to be fine. After all, it had been over a year since his last tranfusion. Even so, Ms. Romy insisted that I take him to the doctor for testing. I remember thinking to myself, "Geez, she's pushy!" but I grudgingly schlepped our asses to the ER anyway. And thank God I did, because Ms. Romy was right - Benjamin was, indeed in need of a transfusion. Thank you, Ms. Romy!

Rise of the Humpdacat

Four-year-olds have healthy imaginations. They don a superhero cape and magically develop superpowers. They're able to spend hours playing inside pirate ships or fortresses that to the rest of us looking cardboard boxes. And they think that having ice cream for dinner is possible if they ask enough times. So I guess I shouldn't be surprised at the existence of the humpdacat - a creature birthed from Benjamin's very active four-year-old brain.

A month or so ago, I noticed a figure popping up again and again in Benjamin's drawings - it looked vaguely anthropomorphic with wide-set eyes, two arms, two legs, and a thick torso. After watching him furiously putting the finishing touches on yet another one of of these creatures, I finally asked Benjamin what it was. He shrugged his shoulders, and said, "It's a humpdacat." I assumed that "humpdacat" was a mouthful of gibberish that Benjamin made up on the fly, so I didn't think I would hear the word again. But I was wrong. Colorful humpdacats continued to show up in his watercolors, hastily doodled humpdacats decorated the margins of his workbook, and the word "humpdacat" peppered his speech. The humpdacat was here to stay. 

I decided it was time to get to know the humpdacat. What is it? What makes it tick? I sat Benjamin down for a humpdacat Q & A.

Mommy: How big is the humpdacat?
Benjamin: THIS BIG. (spreads arms out wide and stands on tippy toes)

M: What is the humpdacat's favorite color?

B: Black and red and orange and brown and purple. That's a lot of colors.

M: Is the humpdacat quiet or loud?

B: The humpdacat is very quiet and very loud and very noisy.

M: What is the humpdacat's favorite toy?

B: Messy dump trucks.

After that last question, Benjamin stood up and demanded ice cream for dinner. The interview was over, and I felt as though I were no closer to understanding this enigmatic creature.

One day, I saw Benjamin writing his name in large letters right next to a humpdacat. A-HA!!! I excitedly asked him, "Benjamin, are YOU the humpdacat?" He rolled his eyes at me and said, "No, Mommy, CALLIOPE is the humpdacat." Hmmmm...

She does have humps...

...And she does sort of look like a cat.



I can't believe I didn't see it before!

It's the Little Things

I know... It's been ages since my last post. So that means that now that I'm finally writing, I should have something phenomenally, fantabulously exciting to report, right? Well, no. Not really. See, the thing that's finally inspiring me to update you isn't all that exciting or important. It's not a milestone, a major occurence, or anything to really write home about. Not that there hasn't been a lot going on in our lives. Come to think of it, there have been any number of things that I could have devoted multiple blog posts to. Such as our recent trip to Hawaii.

What made this trip so remarkable was that we took it sans kids. Yup - our first vacation as a couple since our first child was born! A real grown-up vacation! One that included real grown-up meals in real grown-up restaurants followed by dimly-lit, romantic and passionate real grown-up se-- Nevermind.

We had greatly anticipated this trip for months before, so it seemed like a cruel trick that seemingly everything we saw reminded us in some way of our two rugrats. Sigh. Guess that's parenthood for you.

A week after our trip to Hawaii, we packed up the entire family for a trip to Asia. The excruciating plane ride over there deserves a blog post all its own. The thirteen hour flight broke down like this:

HOUR 1 - Calliope sleeps. I give myself a smug pat on the back and start reading People magazine.

HOUR 2 - Calliope abruptly wakes up, realizes she's in a tin can hurtling through thin air and begins to wail.

HOURS 3-8 - Calliope does an incredible impersonation of Linda Blair in the Exorcist. I alternate between feeling horrified by the realization that I am the parent of THAT screaming baby on the plane and being in awe of my daughter's sheer stamina.

HOUR 9 - Calliope passes out. I use the restroom for the first time in eight hours.

HOURS 10-12 - Calliope wakes up and stays calm enough to eat something and watch the first five minutes of all two dozen DVDs I've brought with me about five times each.

HOUR 13 - Calliope starts to get upset again and ramps up for another epic Linda Blair impersonation. Thankfully, we land before her head starts spinning.

Torturous flight notwithstanding, our stay in Taiwan was wonderful. It was great to visit with family we hadn't seen in years and introduce our relatives to Vince and the kids.

After Taiwan, we flew to Singapore, the country where I lived before going to college, and the place I consider home. We visited various museums, historical locales, famous restaurants, old friends and the world-reknowned zoo, but what did the kids love the most about Singapore?

The bed in our Four Seasons hotel room.

Aside from the bed, I think what made the biggest impression on them during our Asia trip were the various modes of transport. Forget national monuments or breathtaking natural vistas. Bring on the planes, trains, and automobiles (not to mention the subways and monorails). Speaking of modes of transport, I picked up a nice souvenir while I was in Singapore - a nice new stroller. I also got a nice new...

...tattoo! Well, technically I didn't get a NEW tattoo; I simply added onto an existing one. You see that dragon? That's the tattooI got on my last trip back to Singapore in 2001. See the cherry blossoms and the Chinese characters? That's the new part. In case you're wondering what the characters say, it's "midlife crisis." Just kidding! It's the kids' Chinese names.

I was lucky enough to have the same guy who's been tattooing me since I was a teen give me my latest one. His name's Chak, and he's the one who gave me the dragon tattoo eleven years before, as well as some of my other ink. When I first met him 18 years ago, he was just one of the artists at Johnny Two Thumbs Tattoo. Now he owns the place. I'm hoping that that means that when I go back again in another ten years, he'll still be there to add the names of all my new children to my arm. ;)

It seemed like we barely had a chance to recover from the jetlag of our Asia trip before the holiday season got into full swing.

Keeping the Asian theme going, Benjamin melted our hearts with with a spirited rendition of "Jingle Bell Wok" in the preschool holiday show.

Then before we knew it, Christmas was here! We got the best gift ever when Benjamin rode a two-wheeled bike (with no training wheels!) on Christmas Day.

Not to be outdone, Calliope decided to surprise us by giving up diapers a few days later.

Along with diapers, it looks like she also lost her sense of style. Luckily, her modeling career didn't suffer from her fashion faux pas.

Do you have any idea how terrifying it is to walk unawares into TJ Maxx and see a larger-than-life-size poster of your child hanging over your head? Most people don't realize that just because you're hired for a modeling job doesn't mean that the company that hired you tells you when or even if your photos! So believe me when I say that it was a shock to suddenly see this picture of Calliope. As for the pic on the right, that's for a costume company called Disguise. Little do they know, dressing my daughter up as a witch can hardly be called a "disguise."

The most recent of the many milestones that have happened since my last blog post was the kids' birthday. We celebrated with a rock star party at Music Stars and Masters in Westwood where Benjamin channeled Billy Joel and Calliope dressed up as an 80s fashion victim.

So you can see that a lot of pretty major things have happened, any one of which I could have devoted a blog post to. But it's not the big things that made me want to get off my butt and start writing. It's the little things.

Like the fact that Benjamin still doesn't understand a critical aspect of playing hide-and-seek.

Or my constant wonder at the size of my daughter's appetite...

...and temper. Lawd have mercy!

It's Benjamin's recent strange new creation, a creature he calls a "humpdacat."

And speaking of strange, it's Benjamin's cross-dressing tendencies. After he put this outfit on, he proclaimed that he was a Superman Princess. I find this endearing but distressing. Any child of mine should know that that cape doesn't go with that tutu!

So yes, it's the little things that want to share with you. Which brings me back to the first image in this post:

This is Calliope using a Nosefrida Snotsucker. On herself. The Nosefrida is a nasal aspirator for babies and children. The pointy end of the plastic receptacle goes in the nostril, the end of the tube goes in your mouth, you suck, and a little blue filter prevents you from gagging on your beloved's boogers. Yum! Last week, Calliope was sitting on her potty and somehow got her hands on this Nosefrida. I thought it was pretty funny that she was using it on herself, so I took a pic. A moment later, I heard the sound of bubbles blowing. I stopped and saw that she'd put the nostril end of the gadget into her potty and was blowing bubbles into her pee. WARNING: If you think that's gross, stop reading now. Ok, ready? The next thing I heard was silence, which I correctly assumed meant that she was now sucking her pee UP. EEK! I shrieked, grabbed it out of her hands, and took it apart to be cleaned. I was pleasantly surprised to find that none of her pee had made it past the filter into the tube. I guess that thing really does work!

You'd think that I'd be more excited to share stories of our world travels or my son's first bike ride than stories of my daughter sucking pee up with a nasal aspirator. But in a way, I'm not. I have a hunch that, more than these big trips, it'll be these little things which I'll remember and treasure in the years to come. You see, people take trips all the time. Everyone eventually gets potty trained (I think) and learns how to ride a bike (except for my mom who rides an adult-sized tricycle). And everyone has birthday parties. But humpdacats, Superman Princesses and unfortunate Nosefrida-pee incidents? Those are special, because those are the stories that make my babies all mine.

The Naughty List

With Christmas fast approaching, I spent a recent night wrapping gifts. Lots of gifts. So many gifts that I didn't go to sleep until after midnight. I figured I'd earned the right to sleep in the next day, which happened to be a Saturday when Vince would conveniently be available to watch the kids. I left my wrapping paper and ribbon in a neat pile on the dining room table and retired to bed.

The next morning, I slept until the late hour of 8:00 am, took my time getting ready in the morning, and entered the living room refreshed and ready to tackle the weekend. This is the sight that greeted me:

Looks like someone's gonna be on Santa's naughty list, and it ain't gonna be the kids.

Perhaps this was Vince's way of discouraging me from sleeping in ever again? Who knows. Well, like the kids, it's a good thing he's cute, because I think there was enough ribbon left over to wrap around his neck!

Tulle Be, Or Not Tulle Be?

I'm not a girly-girl. Never have been. I'm not a big fan of ruffles, frilly undergarments, beauty pageants, or pink lip gloss. So I guess it's no surprise that my daughter would be the same. At the tender age of 19 months, Calliope already has a definite tomboy streak. Some might even say that her behavior at times is downright unladylike. Though I would prefer that she leave her pants on and refrain from using her breakfast as hair gel, and though sometimes I find that her stubborness borders on outright insubordination, I have to say that I love that my daughter is such a rough and tumble little girl.

Even so, part of me wonders what Calliope would look like with a poufy princess dress on. With her big round eyes, chubby cheeks and pigtails, she'd probably be pretty cute! So on a recent afternoon, I took her to the mall to find out. I found the biggest, poufiest, glittery-ist, most tulle-filled princess dress in the store and put it on her. Unfortunately, it didn't go over well.



Guess I forgot who I was dealing with here. :(

I realize that it's been almost two months since my last post. Yes, I feel really guilty about neglecting my blog. No, I haven't been spending all my free time torturing my daughter with tulle. I've actually been insanely busy!

For one thing, our dear friends the Ilardis came to town. As you can see, Benjamin was over the moon to see his love Kayla again.

On the days that Benjamin was in school, Calliope and Kayla had a chance to bond. I think Calliope really liked having a big sister to pal around with. And Kayla seemed to love having a little sis to take care of, too. Ahem, Marco and Sheila, I think your daughter may be trying to tell you something!

During their stay, we squeezed in a visit to Disneyland - and Calliope squeezed into a pair off too-small shorts.

My parents took a vacation and paid us a visit, too, though I'm afraid that with the amount of running around they did with the kids, it wasn't very relaxing.

The summer's been filled with birthday parties galore. It seemed that we had one almost every weekend these past six weeks. It's crazy how many kids had birthdays in September and August. Hmmm... Looks like the holidays were a popular time for getting frisky! ;)


Summer didn't seem heat up until after July, so we've been spending a lot of time at the pool...

...and at the beach.

You may notice that in all of these pics, Benjamin's mohawk is MIA. That's because he's decided that he wants hair "like Daddy's." What better way to get him Daddy's haircut than by taking him to Daddy's hairstylist, Chika Furumiya! Though Chika doesn't usually cut the hair of anyone under four feet tall, she agreed to make an exception for Benjamin. We had to improvise ways to keep him covered up while she was working on him, but the end result was well worth it. Look at that smile on the Boo's face! It says, "I'm so handsome that I'll never let you save money by cutting my hair at home again, SUCKAS!"

Though Chika didn't cut Calliope's hair, she did give her some uber-trendy feather hair extensions. They looked absolutely adorable - until Calliope ripped them out three days later. I guess hair extensions and tomboys don't mix.


To get some of that tomboy energy out (and to give her poor mother a break), Calliope is now in Mother's Day Out two days a week. One of those days she goes together with her brother. It's funny to watch them clinging to one another at drop-off, especially since by the time pick-up rolls around, they're pretending not to know one another. I suppose this is a preview of what high school will be like.

So as you can see, it's been a busy summer. But it's not just the days at the beach, trips to the pool, birthday parties, long days with the kids, commitments to the Playa Vista Moms Group/preschool/elementary school fundraising committee/Mandarin playgroup, or out-of-town visitors that have kept me busy. It's WORK.

I have been shooting up a storm these past few months. And though my eyeballs are dried out from editing, though I'm in a constant state of panic about keeping up with my clients and orders, and though some days my right hand feels like it's going to fall off if it has to click the shutter one more time, I am LOVING it. I get excited before every shoot, and as soon as it wraps, I can't wait to get home to look at the pictures.


Especially the ones of the kids! Photographing young children is exhausting, but no matter how worn out I am after a session with them, I always find myself sitting there with a dopey grin as I'm going through their pictures. Their enthusiasm and pure joie de vivre is contagious even through a photograph.

Which brings me back to my own two children.

I see them growing up, and I can't help but feel a pang. It's all happening too fast. Just four years ago, it was just me and Vince living alone in our home. Now we're a family of four. And wasn't it just the other day that I had two BABIES? Now one of them is making his own hairstyling decisions and the other is giving me attitude about what clothes she wants to wear. I love seeing them grow, but is it so wrong of me to want them to grow up just a little more slowly? I asked my mom if she remembered what it was like when my brother and I were this young.


She said that she remembered it all as if it were just yesterday.

Itty Bitty Bootylicious

Just now, after Benjamin went to the potty and was putting his underpants back on (backwards, I might add), he bent over to inspect his posterior and said to me, "Mama, I have a little butt." I chuckled affectionately and said yes, he did indeed have a little butt. He then came up to me, inspected MY posterior, looked me dead in the eye and said, "Mama, you have a big butt." Oh, Benjamin... I have ended relationships over words less cruel than those. Good thing I'm legally stuck with you for at least another 15.5 years. Besides, I don't put much stock in what other people think.
.
Especially when the person in question has his underpants on backwards.

I realize it's been an age since my last post. Despite what my son would have you believe, it's not my lazy fat ass that has prevented me from updating this blog; it's the royal time suck I call Lily Chan Photography. But even aside from LCP stuff, a lot has happened recently, so I promise you I'll post again soon.

Stay tuned!