Playing Hero

We were playing around with the light sticks the kids won in their school's Fall Festival. Ian wanted his little brother to look like Avatar Aang from the cartoons The Last Airbender.

Mirror Mirror on the Wall

Last week my husband, Mike asked our first born son, Ian to watch over his little brother, Pupu Panda to make sure he finishes his homework while he went to take a bath. As Mike stepped out of the shower, steam slowly dissipating, this face, like the Cheshire Cat, emerges from the swirling mist. How dramatic.     

The Angry Pupu Panda

Mike noticed a patch of uneven hair right at the top of Pupu Panda's head. "Ok, this ought to be good," I imagined Mike thinking to himself. So in comes Ian, still clutching a pair of scissors. "Dad," he started his defense "he won't do his homework, so I cut  his hair."

You don't need to know what happened after that.

So anyway, here's what I'm thinking. If we teach by example, and children are like sponges and that they are mere reflections of ourselves and all that, where the hell did Ian learn to dole out punishment so swiftly, so ruthlessly? And justice so ill-befitting the crime at that! Did he get that from us? Are we guilty of passing out punishment disproportionate to the crime?

I mean, all we've ever sentenced them to is squatting for 10 minutes while holding up an obsolete encyclopedia or being grounded for 500 years. I'm just kidding, actually, when they err we kidnap their favorite toys (Nintendo DS and a cute cuddly teddy bear in a Celtics uniform) or we hold them for ransom to get them to do whatever it is then still find a reason not to give them back even after they've done whatever it is. I mean where do kids nowadays get this sense of entitlement anyway? 

Ok, what is the point of all this? The point is, justice is a funny thing. You might think you are doing right by your kids by punishing them for mistakes they make. But that only works if the punishment is equal in gravity to the mistake made. If there is an imbalance between crime and punishment, I swear Justice comes back and bites you in the ass. But how do you determine the punishment?

I don't know. All I know is Ian is now sporting the same hairdo as Pupu Panda's.

No, not the funny, uneven one. We took them to the barber's after the incident to even out Pupu's hair. What did you think? We're not monsters.

Old Before My Time

Only for a fleeting period in your life will you ever find this position comfortable. The moment you need a crane to hoist you by the armpits from this sitting position while simultaneously wondering if you'll ever regain full use of your legs again, you are officially grown up.  

This is my son, Pupu Panda. Guess how he got that nickname? That's another story. Anyway, he's 4. After dinner we were coloring and he said "Mom, are you and dad married?" I said "Yes, we are." And he said "When I grow up I want to marry you." As weird as that sounded in an Oedipus Complex-y way, I had to wipe away a tear before it could drop on his page. I said "Honey, you can't marry your mother. Besides, wouldn't you want to marry somebody your own age?" And without looking up from his coloring he said "cos when I grow up, you'll be old and then die?" Nonchalant little bugger, isn't he? Moment over.

I should've know that age would be today's recurring theme. When I brought my eldest son, Ian to school this morning I leaned over to give him a kiss which is what I've always done before sending him off with "work hard!" (which BBC claims is a better pep talk than "have fun!"). Where was I? Oh yeah, I leaned to kiss him and he instinctively took a step back. When he saw the reaction on my face, I can imagine it was something like "What?! You want to cut off my right arm and feed it to your rottweiler?", he took a quick look around the hallway, ascertained that we were alone and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek.

Why don't you just kill me now rather than the slow, painful march toward "old then die"?

Missing Joe

I went to see the doctor because I felt a swelling in my throat. She told me it was caused by acid reflux and that I had to stay away from caffeine for at least one week! One week without caffeine! Even my coffee machine seems sad...

Do you see that? Or am I hallucinating from caffeine deprivation?

Midnight Blog

Ok, so it's the middle of the night and here I am writing my first blog on my iPad in the pitch black nothingness of the room I share with my sleeping husband.  Did I mention it was dark? (I wonder what this blog would look like in the morning?) I feel like Doogie Howser typing into his computer after a busy day. The only difference is I didn't save anyone's life today! Oh that and I can't get my hair as high as his even if I teased my bangs with a toothbrush. Not that I would try it.

Anyway, the thought that keeps me awake on a night like this is "What the hell am I going to do with my life now?" I'm 35, married, with two very young boys. Having just moved 7,295 miles from home , it's a daily struggle just trying to make sense of it all! But then again we moved a little over a year ago. Shouldn't I have figured out by now what it is I want to do for myself ? Don't get me wrong, I love being a mother and if anything, this move has brought our little family even closer. But don't you sometimes feel that you want to do something for yourself, something relevant and independently fulfilling? I never thought I'd say this after juggling a hectic work schedule for more than 10 years before this move, but, I miss having a career.

Oh well, sleep beckons, I know I  have to go to my happy place now for tomorrow brings another day of chaos for which my energy is desperately needed.

Ah, my happy place......justice and retribution.

Aww, come on, I just made them stand there for a minute, two minutes tops! And only because the little one couldn't get past "Mama" in the statement "Mama is the best mother in the whole wide universe!". My little imps.