Since I've had to turn in my laptop, I've been without a real keyboard which has cut down significantly on my ability to write entries so I know I'm pretty behind. But for now, here's a short musing and revelation I have reached recently:
"Mommy hair" is really "SWO hair".
This is what I mean. After what seems like four ridiculously long years, I was finally able to grow out my short bob to pretty, wavy, down to the middle of my back hair. It's nice, thick, luxurious, and has the capacity to look like Victoria's Secret runway model/artfully toussled "bedhead" when it's down. But that's the problem, as many new moms of young kids, you never wear it down. If it's down, it's more likely to be pulled, yanked, or get covered by whatever food your child now flinging. Recently, Owen and Anduin have used it as a handhold (!) while trying to climb me. With that being said, I always wear it up and out of the way, usually in a nice little bun...
Which is exactly how I wear my hair as a SWO while in uniform.
Arrgh.
So I've been debating about cutting my hair short (just like any new mom does) and basically any female SWO who has actually tried to calculate how much more sleep she could have gotten on a deployment if she didn't have to spend those additional minutes of putting her hair every time she took a nap (or slept, but really four or five hours is not a night of sleep, it's a long-ish nap). It's cute, it's low maintenance, it's...
Exactly what new moms and female SWOs do.
Arrgh. Which is exactly what I do NOT want to do.
So next time you see me on a ship with bags under my eyes, it's because of my vanity for my long hair. And I'll do my best to enjoy it for the five minutes a day that I wear it down (usually right before I go to sleep and immediately upon waking up).
Thursday, January 10, 2013
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Owen - The Spice Ninja
By all indications, Owen will grow up be a chef... a chef who is not afraid of seasoning, spices, and flavor. He has long pulled a chair up to the stove to cook with Niles and me. At this point, we're just trying to make sure he's entertained enough to not catch himself (or anything else) on fire. It was a sad moment when I realized he DID know how to turn on the gas burners.
Once he's got his pot of "food" (meaning extra scraps of what I'm cooking minus raw meat) "cooking" (meaning he's stirring it with a large wooden spoon, rubber spatula, whisk, or his chosen culinary tool), he usually will then push the bar stool over to the spice drawer to choose appropriate seasonings.
Unfortunately, his favorite spices to add seem to be: red curry, onion powder, and garlic powder. And he only knows one amount: half of the container or whenever I stop him, whichever happens first. Other than going through an outrageous amount of these seasonings, the main problem is this:
He' s a spice ninja.
He'll add these items to your food when you are not expecting it. It's one thing for him to season foods under my supervision. It's quite another to do it when we're not watching. Beware of leaving open containers of food on the counter or items bubbling away on the stove at our house.
True story: I was putting away leftover curried beef with spinach and rice into a tupperware container, turned my back to take care of something, and then popped the lid back on. The next day, I wondered why the normally sweet curry burned the roof of my mouth. Then I realized, I had been a victim of Owen the Spice Ninja.
Other victims of the Spice Ninja include: two separate occasions of boxed macaroni and cheese, scrambled eggs, stir-frys, pasta with (now) garlic sauce, (now) garlic mashed potatoes.
So in case you have a spice ninja on your hands, here's my best advice:
- give up trying to get the seasoning out of the dish. Powders are impossible to remove
- adding sour cream and whole milk to heavily curried macaroni and cheese makes it a creamy, spicy, Indian influenced dish
- adding sweetness (honey, sugar) will help cut through some of the heat
- adding more butter to overly garlic/oniony flavored items makes it seem almost intentional
Otherwise, lock up your spice drawer while you still can.
Once he's got his pot of "food" (meaning extra scraps of what I'm cooking minus raw meat) "cooking" (meaning he's stirring it with a large wooden spoon, rubber spatula, whisk, or his chosen culinary tool), he usually will then push the bar stool over to the spice drawer to choose appropriate seasonings.
Unfortunately, his favorite spices to add seem to be: red curry, onion powder, and garlic powder. And he only knows one amount: half of the container or whenever I stop him, whichever happens first. Other than going through an outrageous amount of these seasonings, the main problem is this:
He' s a spice ninja.
He'll add these items to your food when you are not expecting it. It's one thing for him to season foods under my supervision. It's quite another to do it when we're not watching. Beware of leaving open containers of food on the counter or items bubbling away on the stove at our house.
True story: I was putting away leftover curried beef with spinach and rice into a tupperware container, turned my back to take care of something, and then popped the lid back on. The next day, I wondered why the normally sweet curry burned the roof of my mouth. Then I realized, I had been a victim of Owen the Spice Ninja.
Other victims of the Spice Ninja include: two separate occasions of boxed macaroni and cheese, scrambled eggs, stir-frys, pasta with (now) garlic sauce, (now) garlic mashed potatoes.
So in case you have a spice ninja on your hands, here's my best advice:
- give up trying to get the seasoning out of the dish. Powders are impossible to remove
- adding sour cream and whole milk to heavily curried macaroni and cheese makes it a creamy, spicy, Indian influenced dish
- adding sweetness (honey, sugar) will help cut through some of the heat
- adding more butter to overly garlic/oniony flavored items makes it seem almost intentional
Otherwise, lock up your spice drawer while you still can.
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| Owen the Spice Ninja strikes Niles' dry rub |
Friday, December 7, 2012
The Law of Inertia (and small children)
Okay, so I have just enough physics education to be dangerous. The Law of Inertia, when applied to small children, every parent though is familiar with even if they don't recognize it in those terms. I'm just going to plagiarize the rules of physics to put it further into words.
The Law of Inertia according to Wikipedia:
"In common usage the term "inertia" may refer to an object's "amount of resistance to change in velocity" (which is quantified by its mass), or sometimes to its momentum, depending on the context."
Here's the equation for momentum:
p = mv
Now tailored for small children:
where p equals your ability to actually get your kids out the door by a certain time
where m = the amount of resistance your child provides by taking thirty times as long to do something that normally takes them two seconds or the ability to break down into an unexpected (completely unnecessary) tantrum
and where v = the speed you actually need to get out the door to make some deadline or appointment
And yes, the relationship is inversely proportional... Meaning the sooner you need to actually get out the door (smaller v), the harder your children makes it for you to get out the door on time (gigantic m).
And yes, generally, p is constant, meaning:
1. If it doesn't matter, you'll get out the door with little mess and probably on time.
2. If you are going to be embarrassed by being that parent who shows up twenty minutes late for appointment and throws the entire day's worth of appointments into a tizzy, you're never going to make it there on time.
So in the end, I salute any and all parents who make it to appointments on time (or even somehow early!) with their kids.
The Law of Inertia according to Wikipedia:
"In common usage the term "inertia" may refer to an object's "amount of resistance to change in velocity" (which is quantified by its mass), or sometimes to its momentum, depending on the context."
Here's the equation for momentum:
p = mv
Now tailored for small children:
where p equals your ability to actually get your kids out the door by a certain time
where m = the amount of resistance your child provides by taking thirty times as long to do something that normally takes them two seconds or the ability to break down into an unexpected (completely unnecessary) tantrum
and where v = the speed you actually need to get out the door to make some deadline or appointment
And yes, the relationship is inversely proportional... Meaning the sooner you need to actually get out the door (smaller v), the harder your children makes it for you to get out the door on time (gigantic m).
And yes, generally, p is constant, meaning:
1. If it doesn't matter, you'll get out the door with little mess and probably on time.
2. If you are going to be embarrassed by being that parent who shows up twenty minutes late for appointment and throws the entire day's worth of appointments into a tizzy, you're never going to make it there on time.
So in the end, I salute any and all parents who make it to appointments on time (or even somehow early!) with their kids.
Monday, November 26, 2012
The Great Cookie Heist of November 2012
There is a reason why when I leave to go to work, I kiss the kids and tell them, "Don't cause too much chaos and destruction." They're incredibly smart... and devious... and have a terrible sweet tooth. The last part is really my doing. So a couple of weeks ago, the Great Cookie Heist of 2012 happened... I can only imagine this is what went through their minds:
Owen: Mom gone out of country, Dad distracted by IPAD. Check.
Anduin: I'll continue to lull Dad into a further sense of false security by playing nearby and making obnoxiously loud, happy baby sounds while playing noisily with my toys.
Owen: Hmm... The only chair that can reach the upper cabinets where Dad's stashed the boxes of Girl Scout Cookies is the bar stool...
Owen moves one of the kitchen bar stools to the upper pantry. He climbs on top and carefully opens the upper cabinet. He then proceeds to search amongst the boxes of dry goods...
Owen: Hmm.... Tagalongs are in the red box... That's just a box of oatmeal Mom keeps trying to feed me... A-ha! Samoas! Chocolate drizzled, caramel coated coconut goodness in the purple box! That's the one.
Owen grabs the box, proceeds to climb down the bar stool, and wanders over to the living room carpet where Anduin's playing loudly and happily. He then proceeds to open the box, open the plastic wrapping, and dump the entire contents of the box of Girl Scout cookies in front of Anduin. Anduin squeals happily as she and her brother hurriedly stuff as many Samoas as they can into their mouths before Dad notices.
Dad only notices after half the box is gone.
And now I know why there were no Samoas waiting for me when I got back...
At least the kids are sharing.
Owen: Mom gone out of country, Dad distracted by IPAD. Check.
Anduin: I'll continue to lull Dad into a further sense of false security by playing nearby and making obnoxiously loud, happy baby sounds while playing noisily with my toys.
Owen: Hmm... The only chair that can reach the upper cabinets where Dad's stashed the boxes of Girl Scout Cookies is the bar stool...
Owen moves one of the kitchen bar stools to the upper pantry. He climbs on top and carefully opens the upper cabinet. He then proceeds to search amongst the boxes of dry goods...
Owen: Hmm.... Tagalongs are in the red box... That's just a box of oatmeal Mom keeps trying to feed me... A-ha! Samoas! Chocolate drizzled, caramel coated coconut goodness in the purple box! That's the one.
Owen grabs the box, proceeds to climb down the bar stool, and wanders over to the living room carpet where Anduin's playing loudly and happily. He then proceeds to open the box, open the plastic wrapping, and dump the entire contents of the box of Girl Scout cookies in front of Anduin. Anduin squeals happily as she and her brother hurriedly stuff as many Samoas as they can into their mouths before Dad notices.
Dad only notices after half the box is gone.
And now I know why there were no Samoas waiting for me when I got back...
At least the kids are sharing.
Thursday, November 15, 2012
It's All About the Environment, Baby
Coworker while in Korea: I used to think my son was so well-behaved until I took him to daycare. He's a bad, bad boy!
I used to think that Anduin was the cutest, sweetest, best behaved baby... And then she started actually growing up. Turns out that she's the cutest, sweetest, most stubborn baby. Cases in point:
When I first went back to work, she decided she would show her displeasure the only way she could: By refusing to eat while I was at work. Others may think it was because she had never taken a bottle before, but she had. And she wasn't at day care. She was being cared for by her grandmothers and Dad, who have obviously taken care of her before. She refused to eat though while I was at work so that when I came home, she was basically attached to me until she went to bed. I figured that after a couple of days of this, she would give in due to hunger pangs.
I was wrong.
She kept it up for two full weeks. At end of the first week, I called the pediatrician. He referred us to a childhood behavioral specialist who saw us nearly everyday for a week. I was a little embarrassed that my six week old required a behavioral specialist already.
And then at some point, she figured out this was how things were going to be. She started taking bottles and never looked back.
Flash forward nine months later. She and Owen are having their real first taste of daycare at the local Child Development Center on base. Niles and I are trying it out to give him a break. It is the afternoon during their first full day at the CDC when I receive the call... "LT Armstrong, your daughter has refused to eat all day." Her voice was full of concern.
Me, however, I knew Anduin's tricks by now and just shrugged it off. We did, though, eat Dunkin's donuts and Baskin Robbins ice cream as soon as I picked them up. Probably not the best way to reward stubborn behavior... but you know, the kid had to eat. :)
I used to think that Anduin was the cutest, sweetest, best behaved baby... And then she started actually growing up. Turns out that she's the cutest, sweetest, most stubborn baby. Cases in point:
When I first went back to work, she decided she would show her displeasure the only way she could: By refusing to eat while I was at work. Others may think it was because she had never taken a bottle before, but she had. And she wasn't at day care. She was being cared for by her grandmothers and Dad, who have obviously taken care of her before. She refused to eat though while I was at work so that when I came home, she was basically attached to me until she went to bed. I figured that after a couple of days of this, she would give in due to hunger pangs.
I was wrong.
She kept it up for two full weeks. At end of the first week, I called the pediatrician. He referred us to a childhood behavioral specialist who saw us nearly everyday for a week. I was a little embarrassed that my six week old required a behavioral specialist already.
And then at some point, she figured out this was how things were going to be. She started taking bottles and never looked back.
Flash forward nine months later. She and Owen are having their real first taste of daycare at the local Child Development Center on base. Niles and I are trying it out to give him a break. It is the afternoon during their first full day at the CDC when I receive the call... "LT Armstrong, your daughter has refused to eat all day." Her voice was full of concern.
Me, however, I knew Anduin's tricks by now and just shrugged it off. We did, though, eat Dunkin's donuts and Baskin Robbins ice cream as soon as I picked them up. Probably not the best way to reward stubborn behavior... but you know, the kid had to eat. :)
Thursday, November 8, 2012
The Asian Genes Are Strong...
Though my kids get 50% of their genes from me and Niles, they don't appear that way. As I've always said, the Asian genes are strong... Dark hair and eyes beat the blond hair/blue eyes from Niles into submission. Owen looks about 99.9999% Asian while Anduin might be 80% Asian. Anyway, below are three true stories. So if your kids are going to be hapa (mixed race) too, you might want to start preparing.
Story 1:
Niles is walking through Toys R Us with Owen, wondering when he can start buying Owen legos. A well-intentioned woman comes up to him and asks, "Is that a boy or a girl?"
Niles answers, looking at Owen wearing khakis and an orange button down shirt, "A boy."
Well-intentioned woman: He is so cute! My daughter adopted a little girl from China. Where is yours from?
Niles: My wife. She's Asian... and somewhere around here...
Awkward silence ensues.
Story 2:
My mother-in-law is watching Owen for the weekend. First off, she's got sandy blond hair and blue eyes. While chasing Owen on the playground, another well-intentioned woman comes up to her and says, "Your son is so cute!"
My MIL: Thanks, but he's my grandson.
Well-intentioned woman: Oh, where did you get him from?
My MIL: My daughter-in-law's lady parts.
REALLY awkward silence ensues.
Story 3:
Niles is at our local polling center doing his civic duty with two young children. One kind poll worker holds Anduin while Niles holds a sleeping Owen. Another well-intentioned woman comes up to Niles.
Well-intentioned woman: They're so cute! Are they twins?
Niles: No, they're 13 months apart.
Well-intentioned woman: You're so lucky to have a boy!
Niles: Well, you know, you've got a 50-50 chance.
Well-intentioned woman: My daughter adopted a baby from China, and they only offered her girls.
Niles: Oh! He's my biological son, or at least that's what my wife says. He just doesn't look anything like me.
Awkward silence before changing subjects and cooing over Anduin...
So in case you think the parent who doesn't look like they've contributed any genes to the baby gets all of the awkward child interactions...
Story 4:
Me at the Dunkin Donuts at base trying to feed two starving children a nutritous snack of donuts and ice cream. Owen is pointing to the letters I ask him while we wait. Another well-intentioned woman in front of me in line starts conversation.
Well-intentioned woman: Oh, they're so cute!
Me: Thanks.
Well-intentioned woman: And so smart! Asian babies are always so smart!
Me: ...
Well-intentioned woman: My daughter adopted a baby from China, and she's so smart for her age.
Me: ...
Because in case you didn't know, all Asian babies are ninjas and super smart. Which is good since the Asian genes are strong in hapa babies.
Story 1:
Niles is walking through Toys R Us with Owen, wondering when he can start buying Owen legos. A well-intentioned woman comes up to him and asks, "Is that a boy or a girl?"
Niles answers, looking at Owen wearing khakis and an orange button down shirt, "A boy."
Well-intentioned woman: He is so cute! My daughter adopted a little girl from China. Where is yours from?
Niles: My wife. She's Asian... and somewhere around here...
Awkward silence ensues.
Story 2:
My mother-in-law is watching Owen for the weekend. First off, she's got sandy blond hair and blue eyes. While chasing Owen on the playground, another well-intentioned woman comes up to her and says, "Your son is so cute!"
My MIL: Thanks, but he's my grandson.
Well-intentioned woman: Oh, where did you get him from?
My MIL: My daughter-in-law's lady parts.
REALLY awkward silence ensues.
Story 3:
Niles is at our local polling center doing his civic duty with two young children. One kind poll worker holds Anduin while Niles holds a sleeping Owen. Another well-intentioned woman comes up to Niles.
Well-intentioned woman: They're so cute! Are they twins?
Niles: No, they're 13 months apart.
Well-intentioned woman: You're so lucky to have a boy!
Niles: Well, you know, you've got a 50-50 chance.
Well-intentioned woman: My daughter adopted a baby from China, and they only offered her girls.
Niles: Oh! He's my biological son, or at least that's what my wife says. He just doesn't look anything like me.
Awkward silence before changing subjects and cooing over Anduin...
So in case you think the parent who doesn't look like they've contributed any genes to the baby gets all of the awkward child interactions...
Story 4:
Me at the Dunkin Donuts at base trying to feed two starving children a nutritous snack of donuts and ice cream. Owen is pointing to the letters I ask him while we wait. Another well-intentioned woman in front of me in line starts conversation.
Well-intentioned woman: Oh, they're so cute!
Me: Thanks.
Well-intentioned woman: And so smart! Asian babies are always so smart!
Me: ...
Well-intentioned woman: My daughter adopted a baby from China, and she's so smart for her age.
Me: ...
Because in case you didn't know, all Asian babies are ninjas and super smart. Which is good since the Asian genes are strong in hapa babies.
Saturday, November 3, 2012
Because Everything's Better with Ears
Being TDY in Korea has actually given me the luxury to ponder the finite universe of baby clothes. Having spent every available moment shopping here (in order to make up for the lack of shopping time once I return home), I've noticed a distinct clothing trend...
Everything's better with ears.
Think of all those cute hooded sweatshirts that have teddy bear ears that Carter's makes back in the US. I know all of you parents have one out there because let's face it, we know that...
Everything's better with ears.
Here, nearly every single shirt has a hood... and if it has a hood, it has ears on it. Those ears could be bear ears, cat ears, bunny ears. It doesn't matter if it's a boy or girl, it will have ears on it. And it's not just limited to baby or kids clothing either. I found myself channeling my inner 12 year old Asian girl as I carefully studied a hooded sweatshirt with a picture of a bunny wearing glasses... and you guessed it, bunny ears on the hood. I couldn't resist and ended up buying a blue knit hat with ears... Why?
Everything's better with ears.
So next time you want something annoyingly, ridiculously cute for your child, you know what you have to do. Buy something with ears.
Speaking of which, I think there's a hat or two calling Owen and Anduin's names... Gotta run.
Everything's better with ears.
Think of all those cute hooded sweatshirts that have teddy bear ears that Carter's makes back in the US. I know all of you parents have one out there because let's face it, we know that...
Everything's better with ears.
Here, nearly every single shirt has a hood... and if it has a hood, it has ears on it. Those ears could be bear ears, cat ears, bunny ears. It doesn't matter if it's a boy or girl, it will have ears on it. And it's not just limited to baby or kids clothing either. I found myself channeling my inner 12 year old Asian girl as I carefully studied a hooded sweatshirt with a picture of a bunny wearing glasses... and you guessed it, bunny ears on the hood. I couldn't resist and ended up buying a blue knit hat with ears... Why?
Everything's better with ears.
So next time you want something annoyingly, ridiculously cute for your child, you know what you have to do. Buy something with ears.
Speaking of which, I think there's a hat or two calling Owen and Anduin's names... Gotta run.
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