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Sunday, September 17, 2006

Spoiled Milk

My son is 27 months old. Because we drive during afternoon rush hour, I prepare him a 8oz sippy cup of apple juice and a 8oz sippy cup of cherrios, and I place these cups in a Medela travel bag--the bag is usually used to store breast milk mothers pump during the day to keep fresh. On Tuesday, I decided to pack milk instead, because we ran out of apple juice.

Sometime during the day, the bag tipped over. The milk tipped and dripped out of the not-so-secured bag and spilled onto the passanger seat. As much as I could, I tried to soak up the milk from the seat; however, the smell became unbearable when Thursday came along.

There was a time when my vehicle was spotless inside out. When I met my wife, the car started to collect items that belonged to her. I would find the occasional lipstick or size 6 shorts.

When we got pregnant, my car was home to baby literature and other related stuff. The car started to collect stuffed animals, toys, and the occasional milk bottle under the seat, when our baby came along.

This recent experience tops them all, though. You can dispose a aged milk bottle, but you can't dispose a soaked-embedded-milk-smelling seat. AUGH!

Monday, September 11, 2006

Remembering September 11th

Where were you five years ago?

A week before September 11th, my wife (girlfriend at the time) and I were in Calendonia, New York--an hour east of Buffalo, NY--for her grandfather's wedding. We had arrived there a week before to visit the beautiful areas of western New York state.

During our trip, we were able to visit Niagara Falls, Canada. Security on the U.S.-Canadian border was extremely tight. My mother-in-law--who is originally from there--even commented on the security. It was even more tighter coming back from Canada. Something odd was definitely in the air.

That odd feeling was apparent the day before September 11th. Our return flight to Austin was September 10th from Buffalo, New York. My wife and I thought about going to New York City instead that morning; before the 9/11, changing flight tickets was extremely easy.

We arrived at the Buffalo airport early. Security was tight that morning. We thought it was unusually tight since it was six in the morning. Security were patrolling around cautiously.

We proceeded through security and made our way to our gate. We noticed a lot more police officers walking around the terminal than when we arrived to Buffalo a week before.

We decided to check out the airport gift shop before arrive at our gate. I decided to get two NYPD caps, more because of the TV show; I couldn't fathom or imagine that the following day those caps would be remembered for something totally different. At that point I noticed police officers walking into the gift shop observing the shoppers. Personally, I thought they were expecting me to steal the caps. I bought the caps and we proceeded to our gate.

We boarded our plane, and got to Austin safely. When I got to my car, I received a call from my dad that my mother was in the hospital. He said that I needed to come down to see her before she went into surgery. That afternoon, I got to my apartment, packed another suitcase, and drove down to McAllen, Texas.

The next morning, I woke up and turned my TV to Good Morning America. The programming was the usual. I got in the shower, came out, and got dressed. Diane Sawyer interrupted an interview to report an airplane accident at the World Trade Center. The first plane had crashed into one of the WTC towers. As she was reporting this, the other plane hit the other tower. Diane Sawyer was horrified. This was no accident. It was an attack.

My wife called me to tell me the news. We both were scared. My parents were afraid too. We could only think of the worst. Who did this? Why? Will it continue?

September 11th will always be remembered as the day life changed for ALL of us.

Wednesday, July 26, 2006

The Kid Who Smelled Like Poo


Remember that kid in school who one day came to class smelling like poo? Today, my son was that kid.

While I was driving my two year old to daycare, I noticed him struggling in the back seat. I asked him if he was alright. He just nodded. Then I noticed him pushing. "Are you pooing?" I asked. "No," he responded.

When we got to the daycare, and as I pulled him out of the car seat, I noticed that his bottom was poofy and wet. "You did go poo poo!" I said. "Pee pee," he replied. Pee pee is his way to say poo poo.

I stood him on the ground and took a peek to see the damage. I made the mistake of poking my finger in to double check. Sure enough, it was poo poo. "Oh no!" I responded. My surprise was mimicked by my son.

I decided to change him myself, mostly because I was embarrased to hand him over to the daycare teacher knowing he was dirty. When I removed his shorts, I witnessed the explosion. Poo poo seeped out of his pull-up diaper and onto his shorts. It was terrible.

I had to not only clean my pooed son, but I also had to clean his shorts. I tried my best to clean as much of the poo poo off his shorts. I really did try.

All I could think of was that kid who one day came to school smelling like poo poo. Poor thing, we all made fun of him all through elementary.

Hopefully no one noticed.

Sunday, April 2, 2006

When is it a Good Time?

When is it a good time to take a toddler to dinner at the Olive Garden?

Last friday, the family went to the Olive Garden to eat dinner. To avoid the older crowd, we decided to go early. As usual, the place was crowded with families similar to ours. When we sat down, our child, who is a month away from turning two, started to act like, well, a toddler.

Later, during the dinner, a couple in their mid-50's sat next to our table. Of course, like all toddlers who beg for attention, ours was no different. He used a straw from his cup and started swinging it as if casting spells on me and his mom. The couple next to us were not amused.

The lady seemed quite annoyed as she dropped her fork on her plate several times. Her husband turned to give us the dirtiest look. My wife, being who she is, returned the look, made a comment, and got our son and proceeded outside.

Our dinner had been over and we were waiting for the check, however, the display by this couple just made the conclusion of our meal not so pleasant.

This is where I'll rant: We went to the Olive Garden at 6:00p.m. to avoid the older crowd. Plus, this is the Olive Garden, a family restaurant, which caters to families. Is it our toddler's fault that this sad old lady's husband can't afford to take her to a more expensive restaurant--somewhere private and away from families.

Nonetheless, the food at the Olive Garden was superb.