Mommom and Poppop

Growing up, if there was one thing I could count on when visiting my grandparents in New Jersey it was that they would go out of their way to respond to every need, want, and whim for my sisters and me. We felt loved, special, and wanted from the moment we bounded in the door until we walked exhausted back to the van at the end of the visit. Mommom would line her walls and floors with giant rolls of paper, so we could draw and color on literally every surface of her hallway. We'd sleep piled onto an air mattress and giggle long into the night knowing Dad couldn't punish us with Mommom in the house. For breakfast, Poppop made us pancakes larger than our plates and stomachs, and let us load them up with as much butter and syrup as we wanted. We learned to paint and craft around their dining room table, munching on animal crackers and sipping guava juice. There was no place on earth where we felt more loved and wanted.

As we grew older, we began to appreciate our grandparents for more than their unconditional spoiling. I loved hearing their stories from life in Brooklyn with both sides of the extended family, their very vocal opinions on pretty much everything, their dramatic story telling, and their friendly banter back on forth. We were often joined by my great aunt and uncle after dinner, and the four of them would have us laughing until tears ran down our faces and our sides ached. 

They loved knowing what was going on in our lives, and continued to give us undivided love and attention. We'd horrify Mommom with our stories of camping and backpacking, telling her of the bugs and lack of hot water. We'd laugh with Poppop about how cold his house always was, and he joked that he revived the flies with the hairdryer every morning after they had frozen overnight. Even in high school and college, we continued our "argument" with Poppop. Every card we sent him had hidden in it, "Poppop is silly" and every card he sent back had hidden, "Poppop is great". I'm honestly not sure how it started, but I think Mommom may have had something to do with it.

Everyone was welcome at Mommom and Poppop's house. We'd spend holidays in their kitchen preparing a feast fit for royalty. The dining room table would span the length of two rooms, packed tight with our boisterous family and loaded from one end to the other with our feast. Mommom, who worked in food safety, would cook the turkey until it was done, and then just a few hours more, just to make sure. The cousins all fought for the seat of honor at the head of the table next to Poppop. More often than not, we'd be joined by several friends of my grandparents or aunts and uncles who had no close family of their own. We'd feast over laughter until we could eat no more. Then we'd clear plates and bring out the stuffed artichokes before breaking into the fruit, nuts, and dessert. The evening would die down as Poppop sat at the head of the table, endlessly stirring his coffee and straightening his folded napkin.

Five years ago everything changed when Poppop was at work one morning and by that evening he was gone. None of us were prepared for the loss. The large five bedroom house felt big and empty for the first time, and it was so quiet without Poppop walking around, chuckling at his own jokes. Chou and I spent countless weekends packing up the puppies and driving to Jersey to be with Mommom. We laughed, cried, and remembered my amazing Poppop.

Slowly Mommom began to move forward. She got her dream dog, a standard poodle, to spoil and pamper, the very thing she did best. She started painting and crafting again, and loved showing us her latest creation. She was incredibly talented and we loved seeing her masterpieces. We started cooking with her and she taught us so many of our favorite family recipes. Mommom was a master supervisor and would sit at the head of the table as she instructed the rest of us. We made gravy (marinara sauce) with meatballs and braciola, pirogi, pignolis, and pizzelles. Cooking with Mommom was always, "a little bit of this, a little bit of that" and rarely included actual measurements, so we'd make it with her on the weekends, and go home and make the same dish several times in a row until we felt confident we had it mastered. Chou took over breakfast duty in Poppop's absence, and Mommom would always say how nice it was to have real eggs instead of her "phony eggs" she normally ate.

We spent hours and hours going through all her treasures and years of memories as she prepared to sell her home. We found bridesmaids' dresses from the weddings of my parents, aunts, and uncles. We found gifts from her wedding and family heirlooms from my great grandparents as well as favors that Mommom had made for my wedding. We sorted so many pictures of so many amazing memories, terrible fashion blunders, and crazy relatives. We found endless crafts, some completed and others just started. Mommom had a kitchen gadget for everything imaginable, a fair share of infomercial products, and an entire bedroom closet packed with pots and pans (in addition to the ones in the kitchen). We found every closet, cabinet, and dresser packed to the brim with years worth of memories... and junk.

I'll never forget calling Mommom to tell her I was expecting E. I told her she was going to be a great grandma to which she immediately responded, "I've always been a great grandma." That was Mommom. All I could do was laugh and agree. It was true! However, Great Grandma was a little too old fashioned for Mommom, and E knew her as G.G.Mom. E was every bit as spoiled and loved by her as I was as a kid. Every picture I have of Mommom in the past two years is of her and E. Every time E saw Mommom she heard, "How's the most beautiful girl in the whole world?!" followed shortly by "Who loves you more than I do? No one. No one loves you as much as I do!" Every single time.

We lost Mommom this month. There are no words to describe how much we will miss her. Her telling us to make it nice, "because nice matters", pointing with a loose sideways fist because somehow that was more polite, and trying desperately to rein in my awesome aunts as they threw rolls from one end of the table to the other in the middle of a nice holiday meal. I'm so thankful that Mommom was my grandma and for the years we got to spend with her. I'm also upset that E won't remember the woman who loved her the most.

  

New York City

I'm a little in love with New York City. I love the hustle and bustle, the ever changing crowds that I could sit and watch for hours on end, the ease of public transportation, endless food options, and the Yankees.

This spring, we snatched Yankees tickets for one of their last home appearances of the year, which landed on a weekday and on my birthday. Up until the week before the game, we had no plans or reservations for the entire trip, knowing that the only important event had been booked for months. We ended up driving to the city and staying in a great little B&B in Brooklyn, walking distance from the Brooklyn Museum and the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens. We enjoyed a stroll through the borough and the gardens, although many of the flowers had bloomed and died as the days grew shorter and the nights grew colder.

We decided to head to the game early to watch batting practice and get to see some of the players up close, since our seats for the game were out on the bleachers, far away from everything but the bullpen. We arrived shortly after 5pm when the gates were supposed to be opening, and were met by a crowd of people waiting. Long story short, they didn't open the gates until 6, due to an issue with that night's giveaway. Needless to say we missed batting practice, and got to our seats in time for E to start an award worthy meltdown. She had been completely content for the 50 minute Subway ride and the hour wait in line, but she was done! We decided to get her some food in hopes of distracting her from her misery, and Chou went off to see what he could find. He returned shortly with an Italian sausage sandwich loaded with peppers and onions. My dear 22 pound, 21 month old daughter ate the whole entire sandwich, bun, peppers, onions, and all, and then continued munching on fries for the rest of the game. I guess that meltdown was merited. Unfortunately, the Yankees lost miserably and we didn't get to see Mariano come in and save the day one last time. However, the Yankees rock and we get a free ticket for a game next year thanks to the bobblehead disaster. I'll take it!

The following morning, we enjoyed a hot breakfast at a cute landmark diner in Brooklyn. Breakfast as a family with no rush, no schedule, and no looming to-do list is nearly unheard of in my house, so our little diner breakfast seemed like a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and we cherished every moment! We spent the rest of the morning checking out the memorial at Ground Zero, and then headed up to Times Square to have lunch with one of my college roomies.

I'm now ready to up and move to Brooklyn, but Chou, who just started a new job that he loves, is a little less convinced. I'm sure next year we'll stay a little longer, enjoy a free Yankees game, and I'll let NYC romance Chou.

That time when canning tomatoes resulted in the fire department in our house in the middle of the night

Yeah, about that.

Yesterday we set out to can bunches of tomatoes. It's the time of year when it seems like every spare moment is dedicated to storing away some local, in-season produce to savor during the long winter months. Last Saturday was dedicated to freezing countless peaches, and the next few weekends are busy, so tomatoes landed on a week night this year. E and I spent the better part of yesterday purchasing tomatoes, gathering canning supplies from my parents' home, buying lids, and prepping as best I could. I had the canner filled with hot water and jars washed and ready when Chou arrived home from work later than usual. Chou took one look at the pile of tomatoes and jars, and was convinced we were going to run out of jars. I had extrapolated last years' numbers when gathering jars and was convinced we had just enough with one or two to spare. Regardless, there was plenty more to do to prepare, and we didn't actually get started filling jars until 6:30pm. I really prefer to do large projects on weekends, but it's just not always possible, and a few late nights in the summer prove more than worth it when we're digging into home preserved goodness mid-winter.

Chou getting into a rhythm

Despite the late start, we made steady progress. E was content to sit and watch us for quite awhile, snacking on a tomato or two as she observed. When she got bored with the canning, she sat and read some books to herself while still on her seat in the kitchen. I had to stop and laugh and cringe at the disaster that was our house in the midst of it all, and commented to Chou that it would take a solid twenty-four hours of cleaning to get the house back in order. The contents of our counters were on the washer, dryer, and dining room table to make room for us to work, and boxes of tomatoes and jars made walking throughout the kitchen challenging. Add to that the tomato juice and general splatter than always occurs when canning, and it was a mess. I was in pajamas, and was the most presentable of the three of us. 

E helping out

Several hours in, E moved on and was playing by herself in the living room. I noticed it was too quiet and went to check on her but got distracted. When I got around to peeking into the living room, she was sprinkling dried oregano on herself and the dogs and had already emptied half a bulk container. I mentally added vacuuming to the cleaning list.

E helping herself

Eventually it was time for E to go to bed, so at a nice lull in the canning I gathered her up and headed to bed. She snuggled in with a book, and Chou and I continued on with the tomatoes.  We had a running bet all night on whether we'd run out of jars or tomatoes first so we were anxious to finish. We got down to the last little pile of tomatoes and four remaining jars, both still convinced we were right. It was 11:30 and I was more than ready for bed. As Chou was filling the last of the jars, an alarm went off in our house. We found the carbon monoxide alarm that was beeping and flipped it over to see the alarm as we reached to pull the batteries out. Rather than the "replace batteries" light we were expecting to be lit, it was the "carbon monoxide detected, move to fresh air" light flashing as the alarm continued to beep. Instead of heading to our warm beds, I ran up and grabbed E and some clothes while Chou turned off the canner that was still boiling away with tomatoes. We opened a few windows, took the dogs and E out to the car, and called the cops. Within minutes the fire department showed up, lights flashing and blocking our entire street, in full get-up. So glad the entire neighborhood could share in our excitement.

I was really hoping for a false alarm, even though I would have felt terrible for calling everyone out so late at night, but the fire department's detectors went off before they even got inside our house. They found slightly elevated concentrations throughout the entire house, but couldn't pinpoint a source, so they called the gas company. I sat in the car mortified at the number of people in my disaster-of-a-house while Chou and E got to know our wonderful firemen quite well in the forty minutes it took for the gas company to show up. Most of our neighbors made sure we were fine, and one of them even came and wrapped a blanket around E, because they thought she looked cold. A few of our neighbors popped popcorn. Well, maybe not, but they may as well have. 

By the time the gas company showed up, the levels in the house were back down to zero. They concluded our constant use of the stove for the past five hours had caused the build up and we were good to go, but they suggested keeping the windows open all night and getting out immediately should the alarm sound again (so not comforting.) The fire department also did not approve of our placement of smoke detectors, so they'll be back in the next few weeks to install them where they want them. I guess it's better safe than sorry.

It was after 1am when we were able to come back inside, and we still had several batches of jars to go into the canner. We finally got to stuff the last of the tomatoes into jars, with one and a half jars to spare (point for me!) All three of us were wide awake at that point, so it was well after two o'clock when we finally headed to bed. Needless to say we did not wake up to run this morning. There's always tomorrow for that.

Stone Harbor Tidal Pools

[The post with way too many pictures. You've been warned.]

Last week was my family's annual vacation in Stone Harbor. This year everyone (my parents, sisters with their husbands/families, and my mom's parents) was able to make it, making the time away so fun! My grandparents spent their summers in the area when they were growing up, and my mom visited as a girl. We love this small town with its open beaches, nature preserves, beautiful mansions, and amazing food.

Each year a few of us try to take a day to walk down to the end of the island. As the tide goes out, it leaves tidal pools full of warm water and wildlife. E enjoyed wading in the pools with fish swimming around her and hermit crabs scurrying along nearby.

Nineteen Months

E is 19 months. Currently she:

Is a happy, analytical kid.

Goes to sleep at 10pm and gets up around 5 (ugh). She naps anywhere from 30 minutes to 3 hours depending on they day. Usually once per week she'll skip the nap altogether.

Sleeps in my bed with two teddy bears. My sisters were hopelessly attached to their teddy bears growing up, and it was a huge problem if one of them got lost. I thought I'd plan ahead and make sure I had two different bears E liked so that we were covered if one got lost. Somehow that turned into needing both at night, thus creating more opportunity for drama should either one go missing. I tried.

Loves to climb.  Onto tables, benches, sofas, beds, people, and any/everything else.

Loves to walk. Serious, all over the city, walks. She can go tirelessly and rarely asks to be carried.

Likes to use the sidewalk curb, retaining walls, and steps as balance beams as she goes. This is extra special because I can remember doing this as a kid and loving it.

Loves to smell flowers. The other day she was smelling tons of lilies on our walk and had a completely orange face by the time we got to our destination.

Is completely potty trained. She still has an accident here or there, but she's doing wonderfully. She's boycotted naptime diapers and removes them as soon as a leave the room. Nine times out of ten she'll wake up and call me if she needs to go during a nap.

Loves shoes! She likes to pick which ones to wear and always pulls a matching pair out of her massive pile of shoes.

Has started wiping the dogs' paws when they come inside, and occasionally when they're innocently lounging around the house.

Has started getting upset when I try to help her out.

Picks out her own outfits, but I'm not encouraging this for my own sanity. She'll empty an entire drawer searching for just the right outfit (um... I still do that!) I can tell her to pick something out and she will go upstairs, find an outfit or two, and bring them down to me.

Would live outside if I let her.

Still loves music and dancing. She can keep a beat and notices immediately when music starts playing.

Likes to boss the dogs around. Her chatty little toddler voice gets super deep and serious. She means business! Usually the dogs comply with her demands and I try to make sure E feeds them treats proportionate to the amount of patience needed on their part.

Can say just about anything, but rarely does. I didn't talk until the age of three, so I guess she gets it honestly.

Still eats pretty much anything. Currently she's loving all berries, tomatoes, and whatever I'm eating.

Can put dishes away!!! All that time spent emptying my kitchen cabinets has paid off. I can hand her anything that belongs in the lower cabinets and she will open the correct door and put it away.

Still doesn't like milk or most beverages. She drinks water with the occasional cup of kombucha or sip of unsweetened coffee if she's lucky enough to get her hands on it.

Loves chairs that are her size. She has an Adirondack lounger on my parents' deck that she adores, and a beach chair she uses daily in my living room... in PA. This morning when she smashed her banana into the beach chair and all I had to do was hose it off, I felt slightly less silly for letting her use it daily.

Panties

E's still itty bitty, hovering around the 10th percentile for weight and the 5th for height (I'm 5' tall, and Chou is Asian, so this really isn't anything shocking.) At 19 months of age, she fits perfectly in her 6-12 month dresses, and has plenty of room to grow in 12-18 month clothes. I love that she's getting plenty of wear out of her cute outfits rather than growing out of them immediately. About once a week I still have a stranger come up and ask how old she is, amazed that she's walking "already."  

While being a peanut has plenty of advantages, I know from personal experience that it also can pose some challenges. I always hated how amusement park rides went by height and not age. I have to climb to reach to tops of my cabinets, and I will always have to hem pants. 

The AAP currently recommends that children ride in booster seats in vehicles until they are 57" tall. For me, that would have meant using a booster seat until high school.

We've already had some challenges with E being so petite. She was born in December and had some adorable dresses, but all the tights came in size 0-9 months. They were longer than she was tall. Most standard walking shoes didn't come small enough to fit her feet when she started walking at 15 months. 

Now that she's potty trained, I've searched high and low, by store and internet, and haven't been able to find any underwear smaller than a 2T, which probably won't fit her for at least a year. She generally just goes commando at home because she prefers it and it just makes things easier. When we're out and about, we've stuck with bloomers from all of her dresses, but it's about time she actually has some panties that fit. Left with the options of buying them too big and needing to alter or making my own, I went with the cheaper route. 

I have a pile of old clothes, sweaters, and blankets just waiting to be put to good use. The softest, thinnest article in the pile was an old vintage fit American Eagle t-shirt of Chou's that had a few small holes. Using E's bloomers as a rough pattern, I was able to get four pairs of underwear for her, for free. I love that kind of project! I didn't have a lot of time, light, or patience, so they're significantly less than perfect, but I actually love how they turned out. Chou's only complaint is that they're lacking a tag to differentiate the front from the back, so I need to add a tag or marker of some sort to make them daddy friendly.

T-Shirt turned toddler underwear

So now we can add to the list of phrases I never thought would come out of my mouth, "E, come here. I need you to model some underwear for me."