A Picture is Worth A Thousand Words

They say a picture is worth a thousand words...
. That one was worth exactly 70:
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Oh, Oliver, no matter what happens, no matter how many rugrats I have or how many years go by, you will always - always! - be my first baby.

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Creatures of Habit 7 or Do Squeeze the Charmin!

As I've mentioned in previous posts, my Dad is obsessed with Charmin. Each time he visits the States, he'll bring a large, empty suitcase to fill with rolls and rolls of the soft goodness to use once he returns to China. Somehow, the details of his toilet tissue proclivities caught the attention of Virginia Wilcox, an ad rep for Charmin all the way in the Big Apple. She sent me this email:

Hi Lily,

I read in your blog that your family loves Charmin! I work with Charmin bathroom tissue and I wanted to send you an email about Charmin Ultra Soft's partnership with HGTV's designer Frank Fontana. I would love to send you a free kit that has a demo of how much you can save by using Charmin Ultra Soft instead of the leading value brand, as well as fun decorating tips from Frank Fontana of HGTV’s “Design on a Dime.”

Charmin Ultra Soft is designed with absorbent cushions that allow you to use less versus other leading brands. Charmin Ultra Soft is so soft and absorbent that you can use seven sheets of Charmin Ultra Soft versus 28 sheets of the leading value brand. Please let me know if you're interested; I would be happy to send you a kit! Enjoy your day!

Yours, Virginia for Charmin

Unlike my father, I wasn't a Charmin user; I was a longtime Target-brand toilet tissue devotee. However, I wasn't about to turn down an offer of free TP. So, I replied, "Heck, yeah!" and several weeks later, a package arrived on my doorstep.

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Inside the package was a pretty blue box from Charmin and a scented flameless candle thingy from Febreze. I really wanted to like the candle, but it just made my home smell like a chic-chic department store instead of the sweaty toddler romper room that it is. The Charmin box, however, came in quite handy. It was the perfect height for Boo to sit on, so for about a month as we worked our way through our existing stash of Target-brand TP, he used it as additional seating in his playroom.
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Fast forward one month later after all the Target TP has been used up. I opened the package to find four rolls of Charmin Ultra Soft, two sample stacks of toilet tissue (one of Charmin, one of another brand), and a removable flash drive. I found the presence of the flash drive to be rather odd. It was positioned between the two pillowy soft mounds of toilet paper, which instantly made me think that I was supposed to stick it in my-- Nevermind.

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I have to be honest with you - I wasn't expecting to like the Charmin toilet paper. It's more expensive than other brands, and I didn't have any complaints about the current brand I was using, so why would I switch? Also, how different can one little square of TP be from the next, anyway? The answer: VERY DIFFERENT. When I used Charmin for the first time, I was shocked by how apparent this was. At the risk of sounding like I work for Charmin, the stuff is pretty awesome. Not only is it softer than Target TP, but it's thicker, and that additional weight means that I can use less of it, which means that I don't have to buy it as much, which means that I can spend that money on other things like gummy bears and salt'n'vineager chips and pickles and ice cream and-- Sorry, those were the hormones talking. Anyway, suffice it to say, I'm a Charmin convert now.

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The only downside to my newfound love of Charmin is that I am now a toilet paper snob. I'll bet you didn't realize it was even possible to be snobby about what you wipe your *ss with, huh? Well, it is, and I am. Whenever I have to use a public restroom or even a friend's bathroom where a non-Charmin brand is provided, a feeling of bitter disappointment washes over me. "Why, oh, why, must I be forced to touch my delicate areas with this sandpaper?" It's not enough to make me carry an emergency stash of Charmin in my purse, but it is enough to make me stop making fun of my Dad. After all these years of laughing at his Charmin-filled, China-bound suitcases, I finally understand!

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Floor Exercises

Fatigue is very common in pregnancy. During my last pregnancy, I was so tired that I found myself falling asleep in work meetings or nodding off while typing emails. Fortunately, my former boss Cathy was very understanding and always willing to let me slip out for a break when I needed it. Unfortunately, my current boss Benjamin is not quite as understanding. He doesn't let me take breaks, and if I try to slip away, he'll follow me hollering and pounding down the door. As such, I've learned to take my breaks right there in the room with him - by just plopping down flat on the floor.
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At first, all proceeds as usual with Benjamin amusing around the house, hardly aware that Mommy is sprawled out like a beached whale on the living room rug.

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He contentedly plays in his playroom for a while before moving on to investigate the entryway and kitchen. And that's when he notices me.
A-HA! He looks all too pleased to have found me, and what's more, to discover that, for once, he's taller than I am. What better way to exercise his newfound vertical superiority than to...

...Sit on my head. A few moments later, Oliver joins him on the Mommy Couch, too.

Before long, Benjamin is bored with just sitting on me and takes off to stir up mischief elsewhere.

The mischief he stirs up involves getting himself stuck inside Oliver's toy basket, which requires that I abruptly end my break to rescue him.

Oh, well. It was nice while it lasted!

The Daily Boo

Almost a year ago, I developed a substance abuse problem. No, it wasn't booze, pills, or anything like that. I became a Crack(berry) addict - one of those insufferably tech-frenzied morons incapable of going more than five minutes without frantically pecking away at her smartphone device. In order to offset the irritation that my new addiction may have caused to those around me, I began using my Blackberry to snap and send pictures of a certain chubby someone to my closest friends and family.

The very first "Daily Boo."

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In the beginning, there were only a few regular recipients of what came to be called the "Daily Boo" email. They included a few close girlfriends, Vince, and my parents. Now, the regular mailing list has grown to include about twice the original number of recipients, but they all have something in common: they're obsessed with The Boo. Ok, I'm exaggerating... They're not all obsessed with Benjamin - though a few of them are (you know who you are, Auntie Yvonne and Auntie Debbie!) - but they do enjoy getting a regular dose of adorable chubbiness in their email inboxes.

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There's no rhyme or reason to what kind of picture gets sent out as the Daily Boo. It can be any picture of Benjamin taken with my Blackberry. Over the past year, however, I've several recurring themes have emerged. For example, there are many Daily Boo pictures that feature Benjamin and Daddy:

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On rare occasions, Mommy will make appearance in the Daily Boo, too.

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The Backseat Pug is a frequent guest star in the Daily Boo...
...as is Benjamin's partner-in-crime, Nolan.
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Since I believe in keeping it real, sometimes I'll send out pictures of Benjamin in his not-so-charming moments. These pictures are referred to as the "Daily Boo-Hoo":

And these pictures I call the "Daily Poo":


Like I said, I keep it real.
There are certain Daily Boo picture that crack me up every single time I see them:
And then there are the Daily Boo's that just make me scratch my head and go "Huh??"


Sometimes the Daily Boo isn't really a Daily Boo, but a Nightly Boo:

But one type of Daily Boo is my absolute favorite. No matter how tired or cranky I am, every time I see one of these Daily Boo's, a smile spreads across my face, my spirits lift, and my heart swells up.
Seeing that precious smile makes all the Daily Boo-Hoo's, sleepless Nightly Boo's, Daily Poo's, and Daily What-Have-You's just melt away. It fills me with indescribable joy and makes me unbelievably grateful just to be with my Boo. Daily.

O Brother XL 6562, Where Art Thou?

It's been less than a month since I opened the virtual doors to my new shop, and what a month it's been. I've been swamped with sewing, filling orders, obsessing over my Etsy shop, designing Beasties, more sewing, creating patterns, buying fabric and notions, searching for the perfect buttons, and yet more sewing. I have to admit that my housewifely duties have been suffering somewhat - Vince obligingly ate leftovers three times this week, I'm only doing one load of laundry a day instead of four, and I'm groggily trying to push through each day on about five hours of sleep. Come to think of it, it's kind of like being a new parent again. No, scratch that - if that were the case, then I'd be getting only 45 minutes of sleep a night. In any case, my Beasties seem to be gaining momentum, and sales are brisk. Ish. And to think it all started with my friend Lisa's sewing machine. Ah, the Brother XL-6562. We had some great times together. I say "had" because our relationship lasted only two weeks before I got bored and moved on to a sleeker model with more to offer.

Meet the Husqvarna Viking Platinum 730. I'm sad to say that she doesn't belong to me; she's on loan from my friend Julie. It's a good thing that Julie's not in a rush to get her back, because a new Husqvarna comes with a hefty price tag. I'd have to sell about twenty custom-made Beasties to get one of my own. The humble Brother would set me back only about three Beasties.

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If you've never used a sewing machine, then you probably don't think that there is much that can set one apart from the next. Certainly not seventeen Beasties' worth of a difference, anyway. I'm not going to bore you with the details, but let me just mention a few bells and whistles the Husqvarna has to offer - A needle that automatically stops in the up position! Computerized stitch functions! Automatic lower needle threading! The ability to wind you bobbin without unthreading the upper needle! It's enough to make a girl swoon! Ok, I should stop now before I pass out from sheer giddiness.

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I spent only a few days with the Husqvarna before deciding to return the Brother to Lisa. He just looked so darned sad sitting there all neglected and forlorn, picking up whatever scraps he could get.

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Kinda makes you think of someone else in the Chan household, huh?
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Pumpkin Surprise

We've come a long way down the culinary road since Benjamin took his first bite of solid food. Sure, he may still be eating something that looks like white mush, but at least he's eating it with a spoon now. And if you replace "eating" with "wiping 99% of it all over his face and getting 1% of it into his mouth," then that would be about right.

Poor table manners notwitstanding, it's been interesting to see how Benjamin's tastes have evolved. His list of favorite foods include carrots, french fries, roast beef, shitake mushrooms, Asian fishcake, waffles, cheese, eggs, bananas, ravioli, chow mein noodles, and - most recently - what I like to call "Pumpkin Surprise."

Pumpkin Surprise is surprisingly easy to make - you mix a sauce of pure pumpkin and whole milk with pasta and veggies of your choice. I can't take credit for this meal; a mom in my Friday class mentioned it as a surefire way to get her picky daughter to eat pasta. I can only take credit for dubbing the dish "Pumpkin Surprise." After all, it sounds more palatable than "pasta and veggies with mushed-up pumpkin and milk, right? Ok, maybe "palatable" isn't quite the word to describe it. I'll admit that I'm not too fond of it myself, but Benjamin really likes it.

Correction: Benjamin really LOVES it. It takes him mere minutes to hoover down a plate of Pumpkin Surprise. And in between each bite, he pauses to cackle like a madman while making appreciative grunting and "mmmmm"-ing noises. You could say that Pumpkin Surprise is to Benjamin as crack is to crack fiend.

Because Benjamin requires ample floorspace on which to enjoy his new favorite dish, poor Oliver has to be locked out of the kitchen. I'm not sure that the pug is even partial to pumpkin, but I wouldn't be surprised if he were. He's never been known to have picky tastes. As you can see from the below pictures, the fact that someone else is eating it is usually a good enough reason for him to want a bite for himself.

The Boo's New Muse

In the previous post, Oliver demonstrated his extreme unwillingness to be the object of Benjamin's newly discovered artistic tendencies. Well, it looks like Benjamin's found another pug who's more than willing to fill that role.

Party Like It's 2009!

Hao Po called from China to sing "Happy Birthday" to her grandson.

The most common question I was asked on Benjamin's birthday was, "What are you guys doing for Benjamin's birthday?" Well, the first thing we did was let him get buck nekkid for strangers!!! Rrrrrow!

Ok, that's a half-truth: he did get naked, but it wasn't really for strangers. And the only reason why he dropped trou was because he was obligated to for his one-year physical checkup. But two people who got the free show were women. That's gotta count for something. Right?

A date with his doctor wasn't the only thing Benjamin got for his birthday. He also got his very own, very colorful set of table and chairs. In recent weeks, Benjamin had begun using crayons in the manner in which they are meant to be used: as drawing instruments rather than teethers. Therefore, I felt that it was time for him to have his own little table on which he could draw to his little heart's content. I'll admit that this choice of gift had some selfish motivation, too. After he colored on the rug in his playroom, I realized that it would only be a matter of time before he drew on something I actually cared about. Like my precious first-print edition of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. Or for Vince, his fancy, schmancy leather-encased calculator. Nerd!

Unfortunately, the introduction of a table and chair only marginally confined Benjamin's earnest scribbling. After doodling in his coloring book for all of five minutes , he decided that the gloomy day outside could use a splash of color. Since he couldn't actually color the sky, he decided to do the next best thing and color on the window. And after he was done adding cheer to the window, he got to work on the the other gloomy thing in his midst: the pug.

Oliver was a bit less complacent about his makeover than the window was. Benjamin succeeded in leaving two orange smudges on him before the pug yanked his head back, snatched the offending crayon away with his teeth, and ate the top inch of it. Methinks it's a good thing that Crayolas are non-toxic.

Even though every child dreams of getting new furniture and a trip to the doctor for his first birthday, that's not all we did to mark the occasion. Over the weekend, we had a small party for our big boy at our favorite Indian restaurant.

So that he wouldn't feel too overwhelmed, we invited only a handful of people - immediate family and a few family friends. Benjamin's twin Brayden, cousin Tyler, neighbor Berry, cousin Ryan, best bud Nolan, and neighbor Bobby were in attendance. By the way, Brayden's dad David is the photog who took the awesome pics in the two above montages. Thanks, David!

The party was a hit! Everyone had a great time. Well, almost everybody. While we were posing for a group picture with the kids, Nolan had a meltdown. It was so sudden that everyone was wondering if he was hurt. I mean, one second the kid is laughing and smiling, and the next second, he's bawling his eyes out. Dad Shawn assured us that Nolan was fine. He said that Nolan probably felt suddenly overwhelmed by the people looking at him; HOWEVER, this video tells a different story:

I rest my case!

The Pug Stalker: Part 2

It was a little over a year ago that Benjamin's cousin Tyler first exhibited his pug stalking tendencies. At the time, Benjamin was but a bump beneath my shirt, but perhaps Tyler's stalker vibes somehow managed to permeate my womb, because it seems that now Benjamin has become a stalker, too. And the stalkee? Tyler.



Looks like what goes around comes around, Tyler!

Benjamin's Clubhouse

On a recent stroll through Ikea, I made a wondrous discovery: Ikea sells igloos! This place is amazing. Ikea sells not only cheap potties, furniture, and dishware, but also igloos! IGLOOS! Will wonders never cease? Best of all, the igloos sell for only-- Nevermind. I'm not going to disclose how much they go for, because some of the lucky little boys on our Christmas list may be getting one this year.

Since an igloo would be incongruous within our SoCal home, Benjamin -with my help, natch - fashioned a sign for its doorway, transforming the igloo into a clubhouse. And in deference to his mother's anal-retentive wishes, he made a second sign for the inside of the entryway. Anyone who's been to our home will understand.

The beauty of Benjamin's clubhouse is that a substatial amount of our baby detritus is now contained. Now when you approach his playroom, instead of a messy landscape of blocks, dolls, books, and toys, you're greeted by the far neater sight of a single igloo-- I mean, clubhouse.

The one thing that will stay out of the clubhouse is Benjamin's potty. As the saying goes, one shouldn't um... poop where one eats.

Of course, a clubhouse wouldn't be complete without a trusty guard dog. If Oliver looks less than enthralled with his new job, it's because even though he's welcome to stand sentry outside of the clubhouse, there's an understand that's he's not allowed to go in.

Before you start feeling sorry for the pug, know this: along with the igloo, I also purchased a new baby gate to use during Oliver's mealtimes. So even though Benjamin may have his own clubhouse, the pug now has his own dining room - as well as the smug satisfaction of knowing that his nemesis is barred from entering.