Day 1298 - Hell on Wheels

Today, we took the kids to Legoland (more about that tomorrow).  It was a fun, but tiring seven hours of carrying, pushing, chasing, and sweating.  Who knew Legos would be so tiring?

After a full day in the sun, I couldn't wait to get into our nice air conditioned car and crank up a little Bananarama.  The kids were pretty tired, so I was looking forward to a nice, quiet trip home.  But you know how you get when you're exhausted, and you start to get the giggles and that leads to uncontrollable laughter.  Well imagine how annoying that would be if you were trapped inside a car for two hours and you mixed in a little pee.

Lisa took video of the kids screaming and laughing in the car.  Although this is just a short clip, you need to imagine this going on long enough that ramming the back of a fuel truck momentarily seemed like a great idea.  We plan on doing a few road trip in the upcoming months, and all I can say is that it's going to be a cruel (it's a cruel), cruel summer...

Day 1297 - Picture Friday: Easter Edition

If you think the basket is going to hurt him, wait until you see the sixteen hard boiled eggs fall down.

"...wow...more jelly beans...sigh."

"Daddy's Kevin James box set collection laid an egg!"

"F&#K!  More jelly beans..."

Have a great weekend!

Day 1296 - Dorky Dancing

Some fathers dream of their sons playing professional sports.  Others dream of their sons becoming a CEO of a Fortune 500 company.  Me?  I just hope Andrew becomes a better dancer.

Andrew is a very active boy.  He loves to run around and investigate every nook and cranny of anything he can get his hands on.  I imagine his dream would be to run rampant in one of those homes from Hoarders -- be careful of the dead cats!

Unfortunately, he brings this same spastic energy and curiosity to dancing.  He started to play with one of his toy guitars and danced over and over again.  You'd figure being the son of a father who once danced on stage to lovely ditties like "Shipoopi" and "We Need a Little Christmas" that Andrew would be a natural dancer.  I guess when he gets a little older, I'll have to show him some moves such as the sashay and box step that will make him the center of attention.

Day 1294 - Revenge of the Silly

Although Emma and Andrew get along pretty well, there are of course occasions when they get along as famously as Lindsey Lohan and sobriety.  Fighting and arguing is par for the course amongst siblings, and it is for the most part pretty innocuous -- although Abel may have something to say about that.

What was once just crying and slapping between the kids has become a little more sophisticated.  They know each other well enough to push each other's buttons, so there is now intentional harassment.  Furthermore, I've noticed a sense of an eye for an eye action occurring too.

Recently, Emma was playing with Andrew's cars.  If there is one thing that Andrew protects more than his groin, it is all of his Disney Cars toys.  He plays with them every day and knows them by name.  So imagine his anger when he saw Emma recklessly playing with all of his Cars toys.

At first he politely asked Emma to stop playing with his toys by saying, "Emma!  Stop it now!  My toys!"  And after he tried to take his toys back, Emma made a run for it.  She grabbed a bunch of his cars and ran up the stairs.

Ordinarily, Andrew would just cry or angrily hit/slap/shiv Emma.  But this time he took a different course of action.  He purposely decided to take some of her favorite toys and play with them.  He hollered to her, "Emma!  I'm taking YOUR toys!"

I thought this was an interesting choice for Andrew.  He knew how angry it made him when Emma took his toys, so he decided to inflict that same anger towards her by taking her toys.  We take for granted how we process our actions, but with toddlers, you're able to see it in a whole different way:  you actually see the genesis of our actions.

But when I saw which toys of Emma's he was taking, I also saw the genesis of another action:  poor decision-making. 

Andrew exacted his revenge by wearing Emma's cherished Disney Princess outfit complete with fluffy high-heeled shoes.  I don't know if Andrew got any satisfaction out of his revenge, but I have a feeling that this picture of Andrew will be used one day by Emma for this very same reason.

Day 1292 - Night Nuisance

I don't know why, but the kids seem to get a second wind every night before we put them to sleep.  The only second wind I get is usually the gastrointestinal kind at around 1am in the morning under the sheets. 

Lisa and I don't rile up the kids before bed because they usually do that on their own.  I think that's part of the deal with twins.  They really know how to play off one another, and instinctively know how to annoy, irritate, and stress out their parents minutes before hitting the sack.  And by that, I mean my balls.

There are nights when I try to enjoy their playfulness, but more often than not, I'm pulling my hair out trying to drag them into bed.  One night, I grabbed my camcorder to record the stressful zaniness of night time.  And yes, we have camcorders, computers, and abacuses in every bedroom.  What Japanese family doesn't?

Day 1290 - Picture Friday

Emma is being extra careful after watching 127 Hours.

"Hello?  Can you hear me?  My head is stuck!"

I like to call this look Mrs. Roper circa 1979.

Andrew learned enough chords to finally play Stairway to Heaven.

Have a great weekend!

Day 1287 - Speed Racer

On Andrew's second birthday, he received one of those toy cars that he could scoot around the house.  At our previous home, the entire place was carpeted so Andrew was never able to move around that fast.  But at our new home, the main floor has wood flooring.  All I can say is that when Andrew's on that car it's like he just had an illegal concoction of Red Bull, espresso, and cocaine.

Our main floor isn't that large, but Andrew somehow has become a master at living room drifting.  It amazes me that he's able to corner the coffee table, sofa, and dining table without falling or hitting anything.  But this does make me question whether the multiple times he has run over Emma was done on purpose.

His favorite thing to do is to go as fast as he can from the front door to the end of the main floor hallway.  He can do this for hours on end...which we encourage because he goes down for naps a lot faster then.  Here's a video featuring his speediness:

 

Day 1285 - Conversations with Andrew

Sometimes I get bored when the kids take a really long time to eat their dinner.  I try to sit down with them as long as possible, but I occasionally sneak away to check my e-mail or some other geeky stuff on the computer (i.e. gadget blogs, video game reviews, porn).

The other day, I snuck away to the sofa to check my e-mail on my iPad.  But since I have already donated enough money to Nigerian princes, I decided to play a racing game.  This got Andrew's attention immediately.

"What you doing, Daddy?" asked Andrew as he was munching on some apples.

"Oh.  Nothing," I said.

Then Andrew became more specific.  "What you doing on the iPad?" he asked again.

"Umm," I hesitated as I was trying to make a couple of tight turns.  "I'm just...checking my e-mail."

"You not checking your e-mail," Andrew countered.  "E-mail doesn't go 'vroom-vroom'!"

Day 1283 - Picture Friday

This face can only mean one of two things:  Something is cooking in the kitchen or something is cooking in his pants.

iAndrew.  iPad.  heAddicted.

Get ready for Disney's latest Princess... Princess Mama Cass Elliot (ham sandwich not included).

Emma does this to her eyes every time she watches The Real Housewives of New York City.

Have a great weekend!

Day 1282 - What Happened at School

Each day when I come home from work, I like to ask the kids what happened with their day.  I used to ask Lisa the same questions, but I grew tired of her standard response, "What the hell do you think I did today, dumbass?"

Andrew is pretty good at telling me what he did at school.  He'll tell me what he ate for snack, if they had art or music class, and which teacher was smoking pot in the back alley.

Emma, on the other hand, has taken to being very pithy and -- do I dare say -- sarcastic with her reply.  For the past few days, she has told me the exact same thing.  But instead of writing what she says, here's a video of what she says...

Day 1280 - Sundae School

At preschool, when it is someone's birthday the kids get a special treat.  It's usually cupcakes, ice cream or cookies.  My mom was pretty strict about the sweets, so when it was my birthday she sent me to school with rice balls, tempura, or slide rulers.


The last time Emma and Andrew got ice cream at school, they devoured an entire Drumstick cone.  Since we have always given our kids frozen yogurt, this ice cream cone gave them a little bit of a stomachache.  And please do not generalize and assume our kids are lactose-intolerant because they are Asian; they are not.  And by that I mean our kids are half German -- or at least I think our postman is German.


So an unusual thing happened at preschool today.  It was a teacher's birthday, and she made little ice cream sundaes for all of the students.  As she was scooping out the ice cream, Emma went up to the teacher and said, "The last time we had too much ice cream, we got a tummy ache.  So we just want a little bit ice cream."


And Andrew chimed in, "Yah.  We got a tummy ache."


The teacher gladly listened to our kids and gave them a teeny-weeny bit of ice cream. 


I suppose most parents would be proud of their three year old children to display this amount of self-control and maturity.  It is an example of seeing your children developing a more complex understanding of cause and effect. 

But when Lisa told me this story, all I could say is, "WHAT THE F*^% IS WRONG WITH OUR KIDS?"  If I was a kid and I was getting a scoop of ice cream, my response to the teacher would be, "Bring it on, biatch!"  Too much ice cream can always be solved with a toilet and 20mg of lipitor.

Despite my immaturity and sweet tooth, I am pretty pleased that our kids were smart enough and outgoing enough to speak up to their teacher.  Although they have only been in school for three months, Emma and Andrew are really starting to enjoy it and developing into individuals.  Albeit, nerdy and teacher's pet individuals.

Day 1278 - Conversations with Andrew

Each night when we tuck Andrew into bed, he asks Lisa to check on him.  There's not a whole lot that happens for us to check on.  Maybe the sheets are askew.  A monkey doll might be dangling precariously off the bed.  Or a drunk hobo might be doing shadow puppets above his headboard.  I usually hope for the askew sheets.

On this one particular night, Lisa checked on Andrew after she took a shower.  As she tip-toed into the bedroom, she kneeled next to Andrew to give him a little kiss.

"You check on me, Mommy?" asked Andrew.

"Yes," said Lisa.  "I'm checking on you."

"What you do?  You take shower?"

"I just finished taking a shower," said a stankless Lisa.

"Why your hair not wet?" wondered Andrew.

"I didn't wash my hair tonight," answered Lisa.

"Hmm," thought Andrew as he touched Lisa's hair.  "Well, it stinky.  You have stinky hair."

Day 1276 - Picture Friday

Play-doh + O.C.D. = Two hours of fun!

"I'm going to be in big trouble if I have to carpool..."

I know Andrew lost a toy, but I'm afraid to ask Emma where she found it.

Before pillaging a village, Pirate Andrew packs his quiche in a pink, felt lunchbox.

Have a great weekend!

Day 1275 - Stapled Out

Last weekend, we were invited to our friend's 40th birthday party.  Although I have not hit this milestone birthday, I'd rather be known by my maturity age:  six.  Or better yet my I.Q.:  four. 

Our friend's wife invited all of his friends to a Los Angeles Clippers game in a private lounge at the Staples Center.  At first, I was only going to go to the party because we had no babysitters, and I'm such a fan of office supplies (Imagine my disappointment...).  But our friends insisted we come, so they were kind enough to send us tickets for Emma and Andrew too.

The day of the party, Andrew did not take a nap.  So of course he falls asleep just as we pulled into the parking garage.  Before I continue with this blog entry, you need to understand how soundly Andrew sleeps.  Once he's asleep, nothing will wake him up.  Emma crying in the middle of the night?  Nope.  Me crying obscenities at the television set while playing Uncharted 2?  Nope.  Lisa badly singing an aria from Aida?  Actually, yes...

As we exited the parking garage, Lisa carried Andrew and I carried Emma.  Luck would have it that the up escalators were out of order, so we had to trudge it upstairs with our high heel shoes on (What?  Can't I look fancy too?).  I could tell as we got to the top of the stairs that Lisa wouldn't be able to carry a kid any more.  So I convinced Emma to walk, and I carried Andrew.

Do you know that feeling when you're driving and that mountain on the horizon doesn't seem that far away?  But it takes an hour to actually get to the mountain?  That's the way it felt like when I saw the Staples Center from a crosswalk.

It's amazing how a thirty-one pound toddler can slowly morph himself into the cumulative thirty-one hundred pound cast of The Biggest Loser.  I wouldn't call myself a muscular person, but I've more than held my own in the past when I've had altercations with the elderly and disabled.  Yet, carrying Andrew for almost thirty minutes put a real strain on my body.

Once we made it to the Staples Center, we had to take an elevator to the fourth floor and then literally walk around half of the complex to reach the private room.  I collapsed on a sofa as Andrew continued to sleep on top of me.  He eventually woke up, and as Lisa carried him away, I noticed that half my body was soaked in sweat and the other half in pee (75% Andrew's and 25% mine).

Although it was exhausting to bring the kids to a basketball game, Lisa and I were glad that we were able to be there for our friend's birthday party.  Emma and Andrew now have a memory of their first basketball game, and Andrew has a better understanding of which balls are appropriate to play with.

And just to make things clear, here is a little graphic of what we walked:


















But this is what it actually felt like:

Day 1273 - Conversations with Emma

Every morning I help Emma brush her teeth.  As I helped her squeeze toothpaste onto her toothbrush, I once again forgot how muscular and manly I am because Emma squeaked, "Ouch!"

"Did I squeeze your hand too hard?" I asked.

"Yah.  That hurt!" Emma exclaimed.

Fast forward about fifteen minutes.  I'm driving the kids to school, and Emma asks me, "Daddy.  How did you give me an ouchy?"

It took me a few seconds to remember which ouchy she was talking about.  The iron mace?  The butane explosion?  Oh yes.  The toothpaste squeeze.

"I squeezed your hand too hard this morning," I answered.

"Oh yah," Emma recalled.  "I'm going to tell the teacher you gave me an ouchy."

Holy social worker!  What did she say to me?

"Why are you going to tell the teacher I gave you an ouchy?" I nervously asked.

"Because it was a bad thing to do," she stated smugly.

"But I didn't mean to do it," I pleaded.

"It was not nice to do, Daddy," she replied as I glared in my rear view mirror and imagined a seventeen year old Emma smoking a Virginia Slim.

"But it was an accident," I said as my closing statement.

Emma shook her head and simply stated, "It STILL was not nice to do.  I'm telling on you."

Fast forward fifteen hours as I ask my blog readers if they could recommend any good lawyers for myself.

Day 1271 - Enunciate!

Sometimes it is a little difficult to understand Andrew.  He might slur his words, speak too fast, or use words like "onus" that I do not understand (Isn't an onus the poop chute?).  Although he is always improving with his speech and enunciation, he has always been a good three to four months behind Emma. 

During dinner, Andrew was babbling on about this television show he was watching.  He was telling me how funny it was and then he ended his description with a word I could not understand.  It sounded like pansy or patsy or penis.  But he kept on saying the word over and over again until he began to get frustrated with me.

And then I heard Emma interrupt.  "Daddy," she said.  "Andrew is saying 'panda'."

"Oooh.  Panda!"

"No, no, no," she corrected.  "Daddy.  First say 'pan'."

I said, "Pan."

"Now say 'da'."

I said, "Da."

"Now say it together.  Pan...da.  See!  It is easy."

As Emma continued to eat her meal, I slowly processed what just happened to me.  It's uncomfortable and irritating enough to be spoken to with such condescension, but it takes on a whole new meaning when it is spoken by your three year old daughter.

She spoke to me like I was some sort of idiot.  Even worse, an idiot who she took pity upon.  I wondered where she learned to speak like this, but more importantly I wondered how she became so perceptive.  How was she able to see through my subterfuge of Japanese geekiness and see me for what I really am:  a simpleton dumbass.

I smell the influence of the wife.

Day 1269 - Picture Friday

 "The thermometer says that you're a germophobe and excessively naggy."

"Don't worry, Poppa.  This won't hurt anymore than knowing both of your children are freelancers in extremely competitive industries."

 "Plastic...food...is...hard...to...chew..."

  What Andrew thought was a deserted island was just a piece of stray poop in the toilet roll.

Have a great weekend!