What are the Odds

Being a mom changes me.  Day by day, little by little and bits by bits.  I don’t think three years ago I would have pictured myself as of who I am today.  To a certain extent, I feel that being a mom transforms me to a different species both physically and mentally.  

In terms of the physical aspect, oh man, don’t even get me start! After my first born, my hair loss was terrible.  For the first 6 months after I gave birth, big chunk of hair slide between my fingers every time I shower.  Just when I thought I was lucky with the second child, my hair started to lose again after I stopped nursing.  Belly stretch marks and the C-section scar remained after gaining, losing, gaining and losing 40-50 pounds in 2 years. Foot size went from 7.5 to 10, then bounced back to 8 that I have to bid farewell to all of my beloved high heel shoes. My eyesight is different after pregnancy and I wear new contacts now. I can’t even wear my wedding band because it cannot pass through my expanded finger joints. And oh, did I mention my sexy beast pre-baby body? Sexy no more, my friend! Literally, I am transformed from head to toe.

But more surprisingly, the metamorphosis is internal.  I found myself being more aware of personal safety. Not until I have children myself, I used to think people going on a hot air balloon to watch sunrise is such romantic idea.  But now, it’s more of a thriller. What if the balloon pops in the sky and I would leave my children motherless!! To me, it’s not the idea of death that scare me, but leaving my kids behind.  The same kind of alarm system goes along with my kids also. I was a dare devil and I would be the first one to jump on different rides and adventure in theme parks.  But I caught myself thinking twice when I buckled Keke on his so called “Big big wheel” (Ferris wheel) and I was holding him tight in my arm.  My mind couldn’t help but think is this Ferris wheel safely built? Is there a chance we may fall? I was utterly surprised by my own thinking.

Becoming a paranoid mom whom I cannot enjoy life is the least I wanted; but taking certain precautions to prevent regrettable outcomes is considered responsible.  On the other hand, “What are the odds?” as Vincent said when we went into a heated argument on whether something bad may happen if we let our children walk to/ from school in the future. (Talking about proactive measure when Kylie can barely sit up). However small the percentage of risk is, it’s 100% if it happens to me. Question is am I willing to take chances and tolerate the unknown? There’s no easy answer.  I think…..maybe I think too much.

I am not cooking today.

Summer’s Footprint:

Life does not always have plan B. It’s the acceptance and appreciation of the many doubts that makes it free, aspiring and beautiful. This reminds me of a song from Pink- “Try”

 

        

The Crying Party

I guess many of us, as mothers, have gone down this road before-dealing with temper tantrum of a child in public. For me, I finally has the first taste of it a few weeks ago in Target. It was my first time utilizing Target pharmacy service, thinking that I could do some serious shopping while waiting for the medicine. Well, little did I know that it was working against me.

After I filled out some simple forms, the pharmacist told me that they would text me on my cell phone when the medicine was ready. How neat! Off I went with Keke sitting on the front compartment while Kylie rocking happily in her car seat inside the shopping cart. However, happy time quickly came to an end when I told Keke that I need to put the firetruck he was playing back on the shelf because listening to nonstop blaring siren was pure torture. I used my familiar trick of counting to 5 and he was usually very good at giving up his toys.  But not this time. Tears poured out in seconds and what's the fun of tantrum without excruciating screaming and kicking?  With his inflated lungs he yelled "Keke put away Keke put away".  I kept my cool and said I did not like his crying and screaming, and I would let him put it away once he stopped crying.  At home he was able to calm down by himself, but this time he was determined to make a scene. What followed was an escalated crying to a point that the whole store could hear him. The clueless Kylie in the back wondered what's going on with all the commotion decided to join the crying party. Awesome! A cartful of crying kids strolling in Target.  Now it's a good time to check my text message- Nothing.....and I had a cart full of stuff.  I did not mind the tantrum because that's how Keke learned his boundaries but it's not my intention to put the whole store in jeopardy.  I was contemplating should I wait for the prescription or put the stuff back on the shelf and just leave without it? I chose the later alternative. Just when I was hastily putting the stuff on the shelf, the phone rang and finally came the text message like I have been waiting for a million years. By the time I walked out of the store, I was carrying a feisty monkey in one arm while pushing a cartful of stuff plus the crying baby in action. Then came along a mom with her daughter about 6-7 years of age.  She tapped on my hand and offered a smile of assurance" I wish you have a good evening, believe me, I have been there."

Because I was a behavioral analyst helping children with developmental delays in my previous job, dealing with tantrum is not new to me and I am basically immune to crying. Tamper tantrum is nonetheless straining and requires tremendous patience.  At the end of the day, a nice cup of coffee is the ultimate luxury, and to hear Keke says "I love you three"-is music to my ears.


Summer's Footprint:

Hold your grip, breath, and relax! Baby.